Flightsuit

by Deaderick, Tom

  They both thought there had been a bomb in the car. The suit's camouflage system hid Leo so thoroughly that only the curious cop had seen anything. When Leo lifted Taylor's journal from the passenger seat, they saw the journal float out of the car window and hang in midair. They had a target, and training took over even though there was no explanation for what they saw.

  They fired seven rounds before stopping. Five rounds hit Leo in the chest and abdomen, two coming through the journal first.

  As it stood on the cliff face, waiting for Taylor to arrive, the suit's energy systems had collected solar and neutrino energy preparing for the blast of focused energy that would send Leo and the alien's essence, in the form of a neutrino pattern, hundreds of light-years away. Having fulfilled the final routine of its programming, it would continue collecting energy until fully recharged and would then detonate. The explosive release of energy would have created a ½ mile wide crater and flattened trees for a full mile around.

  When the return trip routine cancelled, the suit was left with a full charge.

  The bullets tore through the air, faster than sound. Computer programs written on a planet, eons away in time and space, processed information through photonic processors, 800,000 times faster. Against such a slow attack, the flightsuit's programming determined that a full-cover repulsion field was unnecessary and raised the field only in calculated impact areas.

  Then the flightsuit waited for the bullets to arrive.

  As the bullets reached the field's outer periphery, two inches from the flightsuit's glass-metal surface, the suit began its analysis of the arrival vector. The program allowed the bullet to travel almost to the other side of the field, the outermost surface of the suit, as it collected trajectory data. Then, it reassigned the bullet's kinetic energy back to the vector's point of origin. Since the bullet's inbound velocity was so low, relative to the suit's defensive design parameters, it drew energy from storage and boosted the bullet's return velocities.

  The two rounds that deflected through the journal flew back through the same holes they created. The suit's calculated point of origin for these rounds sent them harmlessly past the two cops.

  The other rounds returned to their precise points of origin with a thousand times their initial energy. The result was horrific.

  At such close range, the suit precisely calculated the point of origin for the five rounds. One bullet actually impacted another round as it left the barrel. The other four rounds hit the guns and the cop's hands. The impact force blasted gun and bone fragments backward, instantly transforming them into a maelstrom. The cop's arms exploded backward into their face and chest. They stood for seconds with the stumps of their arms still extended. One round continued its travel, exiting the cop's disintegrated shoulder blade. Their faces went instantly white as they stood looking at their destroyed hands. The younger cop turned around to stare at the curious one who'd fallen to the ground when the car windows blew out. His face had a stunned look as if he was asking, "Is this really happening?"

  The curious cop stared at the scraps of skin and bone hanging from his partner's elbows and then at the bone and pistol shards still sticking from the bloody Kevlar vest.

  Leo could not believe what was happening. He'd snuck down to the car thinking he could snatch the journal and bag without any plan other than sneaking close to the car. The suit had massively overreacted to the attack and rather than the bullets just bouncing harmlessly off like he thought they would, it had blown them back at the cops. Their arms are blown off. He just kept thinking their arms are gone as he stood there gawping.

  He took a step toward the injured cops. His natural reaction was to help them in some way and apologize, as if that were possible, for what the suit had done. He stopped himself, realizing that the suit might actually, somehow, do something even worse. Just get the bag, he thought. Just get the stupid bag and hide.

  For a moment, both of the injured cops stood. The younger cop, a new father, fell first. His eyes lost focus, staring into the air and he leaned over backward. His head hit a smooth brown river rock laying in the sand. In thousands of years, no human had moved this rock, never sat upon it. It was unnoticed and unremarkable until the young cop's head split open upon it like a ripping melon. It would sit upon the curious cop's desk until his retirement years later – as a terrible reminder of how close he'd come.

  The curious cop stared in horror as blood ran off the rock and into mica-sparkling sand. The young cop's exploded open wrists bled into the sand with the last beats of his shocked heart.

  The curious cop looked up, but not in time. The older cop fell across him, knocking his pistol into the sand. The older cop reached up to him with the shattered stump of his arm. It slid down his shoulder before falling leaden onto the ground. He'd wish afterward that he'd held his friend and said something comforting as he slipped away. But his reflexes were faster than his good intention. He slid himself out from under the body and watched his friend pass alone, too horrified to even say anything. Their eyes met. After a few seconds, he realized nothing remained behind his friend's frozen gaze.

  Shaking now and near shock, he remembered the ghost. He looked to the car and saw nothing at first. Then he saw the journal bobbing in the air. It moved toward the trunk. At times he could see the journal in full, but it occasionally disappeared altogether or was only visible as a sliver.

  As he watched, blinking, trying to focus the hazy apparition into clarity, the car dipped and shook on its shocks. The bouncing stopped and the haze disappeared entirely, leaving only the floating journal to mark its presence. Then it screamed. That didn't sound angry, the cop thought, it sounded frustrated. Maybe scared. What is this?

  Then the haze returned, and the cop saw the apparition take form. For less than a second, he saw it. He'd later tell the NSA agents, it looked like a man in a spacesuit. He saw the figure's arm swing from overhead to crash into the car's trunk. The impact almost lifted the car's front tires off the ground. As the bounces settled, he watched the trunk lid rip itself loose and fly out across the road. It clanged into a heap against the rock wall and fell noisily to the ground. A large black duffle bag jumped out of the trunk and floated in the air with the book. The cop shook his head, trying to clear his vision, but could only see the slight haze now, along with the book and duffle. They floated around the car and toward him. They stopped ten feet from him and just floated in the air. He looked over at his pistol. He could reach it, but didn't want to try after seeing the thing defend itself. He looked back up at the thing he knew was there.

  The ghost said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to hurt anyone. Please help them, and don't let them die."

  Then the bag floated slowly toward the road. Reaching the road, it shot through the air to land on a hilltop of tall yellow grass. The cop watched, but it never reappeared.

  63

  "You've got to get yourself under control," Ethan told him. "You're shaking, and the suit's amplifying it. I can't get near you." At least I can see him now. If the kid had been hurt, and the suit kept him invisible it'd be impossible to find him.

  Leo was exhausted and in shock, "I kn-know wwit. I can'tt help it. I don't know wh-what's happening to me. I'm scared."

  "It's going to be ok son. We'll find a way to get this off you. Can you lay back on the grass and put your feet up on that rock for a few minutes?"

  Leo twisted his shoulders around to see the rock. "Yes. I can. Wwill that help?"

  "Yes, I think it will."

  When he'd settled into the grass with his feet on the rock, Leo asked, "Do you think they will die?"

  Ethan paused with no idea what to tell the boy. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "I don't know if they will." No ambulance sirens yet, he thought. "The suit did that Leo. That wasn't you." He knelt close to Leo but far enough away to avoid accidentally touching the suit as he searched the boy's eyes through the helmet. He'd only known Leo for a day and his only interaction with the world had been through t
he news he received from the radio and tiny television. He'd heard many stories of increasingly violent young people. He imagined they had little similarity to kids from his generation, or Ray. So he was relieved when Leo spoke again.

  "The suit just…it just," Leo started, breaking into tears.

  Ethan watched helplessly and waited for him to stop crying. He heard the sirens now. Too late for them, he thought. Too soon for us. We've got to get moving.

  Ethan reached into the backpack and pulled out a canteen. He drank a couple gulps and let it down into his lap, looking at Leo. How in the world…

  "You must be getting thirsty in there. Do you see any way to open that helmet?" If we can't get him out of that can, he could die of dehydration or starve in there.

  "I'm not thirsty," Leo replied. "I've been drinking from this little tube."

  "What?" Ethan leaned over, peering into the helmet. "How did you know it wasn't poisonous? There's no way an alien would eat or drink the same things we do. It might make you sick."

  "I know. It was just right next to my mouth, and I was so thirsty standing in the sun all that time that I drank from it without thinking. It tasted fine though. I'm pretty sure it's just water." He sipped again from the tube as a demonstration.

  "Ok, well that's good news, at least"

  The ambulance was getting louder and more sirens joined the chorus.

  "Time to get out of here. Can you get up? Are you feeling any better?"

  "Yes. I can get up. I'm not shaking anymore." The image of the cops standing with their hands blown off wanted to get his attention. He felt jittery knowing it was there and pushed it aside, staring hard at anything else. Leaves rustled in trees covering the mountainside. He watched them, careful to keep his peripheral vision away from the police cars and the red spots of sand. He'd glanced down at them once and started to breathe fast and feel sick before he turned away and thought of something else.

  Leo asked, "Where are we going?"

  "I think I know of a place they won't look," Ethan told him. "At least, I hope they won't."

  "Is it far?"

  "No. We can walk there."

  Leo paused a moment and asked, "Won't they follow us?"

  Ethan stopped. Damn. They will follow us. They'll get dogs to trail us. Even if they can't get a scent from the suit, they'll be able to track me and see me if they get close enough.

  "I could lead them away in the suit," Leo offered.

  No better options, Ethan decided. "That's a good idea. Are you sure you're up to it?"

  "Yes, I can do it," Leo replied, a little excited by the prospect and eager to get away from the river carnage.

  "Ok. Hang on." Ethan sat down and pulled off his boot, then the sock. He put the boot back on and stood up, looking around. He found a long stick. He wrapped the sock around the bottom of it and pulled it into a tight knot. He handed the stick to Leo. "Drag this along behind you when you want the dogs to follow your trail, and lift it in the air when you want to confuse them. Lead them down along the river as far as you think you should go then throw it in the river and jump as far as you can away. That should break their trail. Then jump and run to get to mine #12. Do you know which one is #12?"

  "Yes." Leo had visited most of the mines, exploring. Some of them no longer had signs. People had taken them as souvenirs. The "Mine #12" sign was rotten and wet. No one wanted it. "Are we going to hide in the mine?"

  "Yes," Ethan told him. "Are you ok with that?"

  "Yeah, that's a great idea."

  Ethan smiled at his resiliency. "Ok, great. The first thing we've got to do is get me away from this hilltop, break my trail. We'll need you to jump with me as far as you can," Ethan looked around, "in that direction, maybe land near that stream if you can control it that well."

  "Ok, let me lift you up."

  He's a lot more eager for this than I am. Even as scared as he is, he enjoys using the suit. Maybe this will distract him from what happened back there. Ethan nearly jumped out of his skin when Leo's gloved hand reached around his back to lift him. It's amazing but it's also deadly and beyond our understanding. I'll be glad to get him out of it. Then they can have it and do whatever they want with it.

  Leo adjusted his hold, trying not to squeeze Ethan too hard. "Ready?"

  "Just try not to make pancakes out of us." Ethan thought for a second and added "Don't jump us into the atmosphere either." He didn't have any feel for Leo's control of the suit, so it was pointless to give advice. "Sorry," he added, "just use your judgment. You're doing fine." Except for the cops, Ethan thought. He tensed, readying himself for the leap.

  Leo stared at a flat grassy spot across the little stream 200 yards away. It was pointless to think of controlling the suit's jump the same way he would gauge the effort necessary to jump without it. There was no comparison. Although he was certain he'd not yet reached the limit of the suit's capability, he'd already jumped great distances. His normal jumps without the suit might be off by inches, and he'd never notice. A suit-powered jump on the other hand, would be much greater and misjudging it might change his landing point by ten or twenty feet. In fact, he thought, there's no way to know how it's going to amplify it. It might go clear over the mountain instead of just down to the stream. The more thought he put into the effort, the more uncertain he became. It was becoming more unnatural as he stood there, and he had to keep mentally rehearsing what it felt like to jump as if he might forget it. There were rocks around the further side of the little patch he wanted to land on and there were briars and small trees to the right. The stream was the left boundary. He didn't want to land too hard or it might hurt Ethan. He was sure the jump wouldn't hurt him inside the suit, but he didn't think it would be as protective of Ethan. He shook his head, frustrated and decided to just jump.

  It was immediately obvious they were not going to land on the little grassy spot. When he jumped, he'd put more effort in than he intended, and the suit sprang forward. The leap carried them over the soft patch. They were still rising as they passed over it. Leo was looking ahead trying to see where they would land. Until the leap began to arc down, it was impossible. They sailed over the crest of the other hillside with the suit slipping between treetops on the downslope. It landed on a smooth grassy downslope and slid to a stop.

  "Woohoo!" Leo forgot about missing his intended target in his relief and the excitement of flying down to a smooth sliding landing between the trees. "This thing is amazing!"

  Ethan slid down from the suit and backed up a step. "It is," he agreed. "I've never seen anything like it." Ethan knew the government would pull out all stops to acquire the suit. They'll never let us live to talk about it, he thought, let alone let him keep it. We've got to hide and do this on our own terms, or we're dead. Good news though, the kid's temporarily distracted from the injured cops.

  "Ok. So you're sure you know where to come, right?"

  "Yes, mine #12. I will meet you there."

  "Jump back to the hilltop where we were and drag the sock stick behind you as you run. Head down the river for a few miles. That shouldn't take you very long in the suit. Hopefully, it will camouflage itself again when you go. That white stands out in all this green. Anyway, you'll probably beat me to the mine entrance. Wait for me there."

  "Don't worry, I will be fine." He hunched down and leaped away. Ethan watched him fly through the tree trunks and disappear over the mountaintop. Have to assume he made it, he thought. He listened for a moment for gunshots, but only heard the blaring sirens as they reached the cops. Then he started running.

  64

  It's nice here, Leo thought. They were ¼ mile underground, according to Ethan. The mine entrance was low, and Ethan had to walk bent over. He stopped frequently to kneel down and straighten his back. Leo had to crawl on hands and knees to fit the bulky suit through the shaft. The clearance was close, but adequate, while they traveled the main shaft. It was larger to accommodate the small-gauge rail lines for the little wooden ore carts. When Ethan t
urned off the main shaft, the walls closed in around them. Leo had to wriggle his shoulders and twist himself to get past. He felt himself beginning to panic several times. The suit was already tight and confining. When he jammed into a seam and felt resistance on all sides with a thick hard padding around him, it was just a terrible feeling, like he was burying himself. He had to be careful not to panic when he became stuck because the suit might amplify his jerky attempts to free himself and bring tons of rock down on them.

  The suit broke edges off the rocks as Leo wound himself through the crawl space, making just enough room for him to press himself through.

  When he caught up to Ethan standing in front of a wall of iron bars, he'd been horrified, thinking there was no way he could actually turn himself around to crawl back out. He saw Ethan digging through his backpack with a little flashlight. The helmet made it easy for Leo to see in the mine's utter darkness, although everything was a different shade of blue, except where the helmet amplified Ethan's flashlight. Before Leo could ask what they were going to do, now that they couldn't go further, Ethan pulled out a shining silver key. He held it up for Leo to see and gave him a wide reassuring grin. The key slid easily into the rusty old padlock and Ethan pulled it open.

  Leo followed him through the iron gate and waited while Ethan crawled around behind him to lock it again.

  They'd squeezed through another 300 yards before coming to a large open room. There was a wooden picnic table in the center, with four tall metal cabinets along one wall. Ethan showed him the stores of canned food and water. All of the cans were rusty on the outside, but Ethan claimed the food was still good inside, although it might taste odd. A rack of breathing tanks and masks filled up the other wall. At one end of the open room a large tunnel led to a similarly sized room. This one had a small table in the center, with steel-frame bunk beds. They'd picked pieces of mattress off the steel mesh. Rats had eaten through it.