Anti-Grav Unlimited

by Duncan Long

  “That probably won’t be right away because—”

  “And buddy,” he continued, not listening to a word I had said, “if I were you, I’d quit wearing that dress in public. You’ve got to think of the image you’re projecting.”

  I stood speechless as he drove off. Then the ribbing from the lab team and Nikki began about my soggy dress. I felt like I might have been better off leaving them all in the prison.

  We finally located a vending machine at the port and Nikki and I both dialed up some plastic unisex coveralls. The prisoners did likewise and in a few moments, we were outfitted in regular attire and our prison uniforms and dresses were discarded down a garbage shut. By the time we’d purchased new outfits for everyone, Nikki and I had run through all the credits in the pockets of our bag lady outfits. I need to write a note to Dobrynin to pay his bag ladies better so there’s more money to spend next time we roll one.

  At any rate, we now looked like paupers rather than prisoners or wayward bag ladies and I was no longer self-conscious about my outfit.

  “Phil,” Tom Berrel, one of my old lab group, said as he gripped my arm in his muscled hand,

  “we gave you quite a ribbing… But I’d like to say thanks for getting us out of there. There were ready to—”

  “No thanks is necessary guys,” I said. ” I know that you’d have done the same for me. And Nikki did most of the work anyway. And if I hadn’t dragged you all into this in the first place…

  Tell you what, just quit talking about that crazy outfit and we’ll call it even.”

  Everyone laughed. The looks of gratitude on the faces of those Nikki and I had rescued was all the thanks we needed.

  With the problems at the stadium, no one in charge seemed to be too concerned about the escape of sixteen political prisoners even if they knew that everyone hadn’t remained in their cells when the prison flooded. The Warden—whom we’d left sleeping soundly on the floor of one of the cabs—probably wouldn’t be saying anything for another two or three hours, either.

  Nevertheless, things were tense since we had several major problems.

  The worst was what we were going to do for transportation.

  There were sixteen people we’d released from the prison and Nikki and myself. Even when Jake arrived, we would only have rides for three people. Though we could stack everyone into the van like a load of bots, the gravity rods would put too much stress on them if we flew the van and if we didn’t, getting from Miami to Jake’s place in Texas would take forever.

  Since none of us had money or cards, there was no way to purchase a ride on a rocket. And we wouldn’t dare to try to commandeer a ride; it was too easy for the ground control to change the destination or even blow up a rocket. Hijacking rides was a thing they did only back in the good old days of the early 21st Century. Even though Jake usually carried some money, it was doubtful that’d he’d have enough to pay for more than two or three passengers’ fare.

  So that was one big problem. Another of more general interest was that it looked like we might have been too successful in dismantling Dobrynin’s empire. In fact, as I watched the small 3V in the waiting room at the port, I thought we might have succeeded in putting the whole planet into a neo-dark age. The announcement of the discovery of anti-gravity and the dissolution of the World Energy Corporation (an addition that Nikki had added herself while in the communications room—save us from vengeful females) created quite an impact. The world stock market fell to record lows before being prematurely closed for the week. Adding to the confusion was the spontaneous walk-off of from jobs worldwide as people headed toward the nearest 3V.

  (The French were the worst; they threw what looked like a nation-wide celebration boasting that

  “Hunter” was actually a corruption of an old French name—a contention that undoubtedly made my ancestors somewhere rotate in their abodes).

  Soon rioting broke out in Britain, Japan, and most of Africa while an interview with the president of the Flat Earth Society revealed that they thought I should be drawn and quartered. I made a note to put the Flat Earth Society at the bottom of my speaking engagement list.

  Then the corporations brought out their own media guns. Slowly the 3V news specials started wheeling out the usual tired experts who explained why anti-gravity wasn’t possible and/or what impact the technology could have on our society and economy with the usual (ho-hum) graphs and file footage.

  But it was too late. The cat was out of the bag, even if the public only had an inkling of what might be achieved with my research team’s new invention.

  In fact I suspect that many people would have gone into shock if they’d realized that almost all types of travel and energy production would shortly become obsolete and that the whole solar system could now be used for raw materials.

  Fortunately, in all the confusion, the police and bag ladies at the rocket port were all busy leaving to attempt to sort things out at the stadium and other areas that were now in full riot. All of our group just stuck close to the crowd milling about the 3V and Nikki and I kept our shotguns hidden but ready in case we got into a real confrontation.

  We took up our guard duty in a spot that allowed us to watch both the 3V and the parking lot where—we hoped—Jake would be showing up shortly. Night fell as a formation of fighter planes went screaming overhead. Apparently authorities had decided to stop the rioting around the stadium in a hurry; a brilliant column of fire soon rose over the stadium area after the planes dropped their loads of napalm. After that, things calmed down since there probably weren’t many rioters left following a few more napalm runs.

  Nothing like a little urban renewal to solve clashes, I thought.

  “There’s the van,” Nikki leaned over and whispered to me and nodded toward the parking lot.

  I stood up and addressed our small group around me, “OK. Everyone stay here while we go and talk to Jake and try to sort everything out.”

  By the time we reached the auto doors leading to the parking lot, Jake stepped through, a big grin on his face. “Boy, you guys really split it wide open.”

  “Yeah. I just hope we didn’t do too good a job,” I said.

  “No, looks like it’s going over pretty well,” he said giving Nikki a big hug. ” It’s nice that you got the credit for your work, too, Phil. You need to get a newer picture of yourself. For the news people. That skin cut hair-do looks wild.”

  “Yeah, that’s my college graduation photo. That was the only shot Nikki was able to dig up.

  Look, we have a problem.” We briefly explained to him about our extra sixteen passengers.

  Jake chuckled. “Money is no problem. My nephew’s proving to be quite a trader. Should’ve turned the business over to him sooner, I guess. Had a customer lined up for some of the industrial stuff we brought back from the Moon. Here,” he took a large wad of bills from his jacket pocket and peeled off two large bills, “this ought to cover it.”

  “Wow, I guess so,” I said. “We’ll have them take a rocket to Houston then we’ll ferry them over to your place if that’s OK.”

  “Sure,” Jake said. “We could use the extra help to get the anti-gravity rods and stuff we brought back sorted out and into the machinery we’ve been planning on building. With the publicity you got today, we’d better get some demo vehicles for the press to see or we’ll go down as the greatest hoaxes in history.”

  Nikki and I got the money to the group, said our good-byes, and then headed out to the parking lot with Jake.

  “Guess we’ll head out after their rocket takes off,” I said, knowing a flight to Houston would be the perfect cover.

  “You guys better let me fly the van, you look pretty worn out,” Jake said as we neared the van.

  “We only look that way because we are,” I said as we climbed in.

  The rocket going back to Houston left only a half hour after Jake had arrived. Soon those we’d rescued were getting safely snuggled down in their rocket and we were waiting in the
parking lot to follow them up.

  We were slipping into our space suits (since the top of the arch of the flight after the rocket would take us into pretty thin air) when Jake said, “You know, I think I’d better use the rest room in the station. Just a minute, I’ll be right back.”

  I figured he must have gotten nervous kidneys thinking about how well he flew the van. He left and Nikki and I got our suits on and waited patiently.

  Then we heard shooting.

  We turned in our seats and saw a group of bag ladies run into the front of the rocket port building.

  “Now what?” I asked, wondering if they’d somehow discovered Jake or my team. It could be trouble.

  We watched a moment and then saw the bag ladies marching Jake out in a small parade.

  There were nine of the look-alike bag ladies in front and two on either side dragged Jake—who appeared unconscious. Four more of the ladies brought up the rear.

  “Oh no,” Nikki said. “What shall we…”

  “There are too many to try to fight,” I said. We only had our two shotguns—which were about out of ammunition—and I’d lost my Beretta somewhere during the day’s activities.

  “Have you seen the rail gun?” I asked. ” I did have it stowed in the van.”

  “No. But I haven’t been in the back.”

  “Keep track of where they’re headed.” I got up and went back to retrieve the rail gun which was still fastened to the inside of the van. I removed it from its straps and brought it forward.

  “Well, we have a lot of over-kill at least. This thing could take on a fighter plane. Where’s Jake now?”

  “They put him in that green car over there,” Nikki pointed. “The ladies seem to be getting into the two cars ahead and the one behind the car they have him in.”

  “OK. We’ve got to stop them before they get too far. If they’re in cars, they must be leaving the rocket port area. We don’t want to lose them in the city traffic as crazy as it is right now.”

  “There’s only the one road off the rocket port into Miami—”

  “Right. If we hurry, we can head them off.”

  “But what will we do if we catch up with them?”

  “This rail gun can take out a car no problem. If I hit it right. We’ll have to try to get the escort cars and cut the odds down to what we can handle with just the two of us.”

  Nikki raised her eyebrows but was too polite to point out just how harebrained my scheme was. Instead she jumped into the driver’s seat, “Let me drive and you fire the rail gun, I don’t know the slightest thing about it.”

  I decided not to tell her I didn’t know anything about the rail gun either, other than what I’d seen in the 3Vs. Why do women always assume that men know all about weapons?

  She put the van into gear and we raced toward the road. The bag ladies’ caravan started at the same moment. We were all racing toward the road with a column of parked vehicles between the cars and our van.

  As we moved down the poorly-lit parking lot and then were in the congested traffic, moving at a crawl. As we inched ahead, the bag lady caravan started to outdistance us. A car pulled out of its parking space ahead of us, blocking our way and we came to a complete stop as Nikki slammed on her brakes.

  We bashed into the car with a resounding crumpling of metal. An angry giant jumped from the car.

  “Sorry,” I yelled to him as we backed away, “we’ve got a friend to rescue.”

  He hurled his hat at us and coated the warm Miami air with curses as Nikki reached the end of the long line of parked cars and turned the van around. Again we came to a stop.

  I turned and watched the bag ladies’ cars which were now at the end of the parking lot, turning onto the road that ran out over the dark ocean that was lit only by car lights of travelers over the bridge, the whole downtown Miami area being powerless and illuminated only by the burning stadium that lit the nighttime sky.

  “There’s no way we’re going to be able to catch them in this traffic,” I said.

  “There’s a way,” Nikki said. “I’m going to get up some height so we don’t crush anyone with our downward grav wash.”

  We rose into the air. Then I fell back into the seat under the enormous acceleration Nikki was pushing the car into. We quickly pulled up alongside the cars as we flew over the ocean alongside the bridge-like roadway Jake and the bag ladies were on. Nikki had the van’s lights off and no one in the cars seemed to be aware of us.

  “Let’s try moving over and dropping downward over the lead car,” I said. “The wash from our rods might be harsh enough to force them to stop.”

  That was an understatement.

  As we dropped down, the car faltered a moment, bouncing up and down on its shocks and broke through the steel rail and went careening into the ocean with a tremendous splash. The car behind it either felt the effects of our passage or the driver panicked. In any event, it went crashing through the rail on the opposite side of the road and went splashing into the black water as well.

  Nikki pulled up and put the van into a steep curve. I was slammed into the door which popped open and I nearly fell out before I grabbed the seat and held on for dear life.

  “Let’s try that on the rear car,” Nikki yelled, ignoring the fact that I was about to fall out of the van.

  “Yahhhhhhggggggg,” I answered, heroically.

  She ignored me and finished the turn as we wheeled behind the rear car and dropped down toward it as it sped along the road just as I pulled myself back into my seat and slammed the door shut.

  By the time I was buckled in, we went bouncing down over the rear car. Again, the force of the van’s anti-gravity rods caused the car to screech about and go out of control. This time, rather than going off the road, the car bounced end over end and rolled about umpteen times. The bag ladies in that car must feel like they’ve been in a centrifuge at the high setting after that, I thought.

  No one in the car moved when it finally landed on its top.

  The final car Jake was in had come to a quick stop as we passed by it. A spotlight on the car sprang to life as someone tried to track us. We climbed over the ocean and Nikki executed a steep turn and headed back toward the remaining car.

  “Any ideas?” Nikki asked as the bullets from the guns below us started dinging off the outside of the van and the windshield.

  “Don’t drop as low this time; we can’t risk hurting Jake. But come in close. It looks most of the bag ladies have left Jake in the car. Maybe our grav wash will knock them down.”

  Nikki went over them and the bag ladies standing on the road were flattened like rag dolls as we flashed over them. Nikki did a quick stop that felt like it exceeded the limits on my seat belt if not my body and performed another tight turn that again took us toward the car. This time we went over it slowly; a bag lady that had been struggling to her feet was instantly thrown flat onto the plastic roadway and knocked senseless. We circled it twice. No one moved below us.

  Nikki moved out over the ocean and held the van at the same level as the car on the bridge.

  She turned the van’s lights on so that they bathed the car on the road. One last bag lady sat next to Jake who still appeared to be unconscious.

  “Oh, no. I hope they haven’t hurt him,” Nikki said.

  “Probably just stunned,” I said, hoping it was the truth.

  Without warning the bag lady jumped out of the car and went running down the road toward the city.

  “Shall we chase her down?” Nikki said.

  “No, let’s just get Jake and get out of here. The rocket takes off in just minutes and we should get out of here as soon as possible anyway. ”

  Nikki eased the van forward; the guard rail crumpled under us as we went over it. Nikki settled the van down on the highway. I jumped out and ran to the car.

  “Jake! Jake, are you all right?”

  Only snoring answered my question. I pulled him from the van, knowing better that to try to lift his heavy frame; w
earing a truss the rest of my life didn’t appeal to me. “Nikki, can you give me a hand?”

  She got out and ran alongside me. Together we wrestled Jake into the van and got him buckled into the rear seat. We screwed his helmet onto his suit and I put a quick patch, from his suit’s emergency kit, over the spot where the bag ladies’ stun shell had hit him.

  “Do we have to listen to his snoring,” Nikki asked over her suit’s radio.

  “We ought to keep track of him to be sure he’s breathing OK,” I lied. I figured there was nothing like hearing someone snore for a while to kill any romantic interest Nikki might ever have for him.

  Behind us, the sky lit up around the rocket port.

  “There goes our rocket,” Nikki said and pulled off the bridge.

  Just as we crossed over the water, fire covered the roadway, lighting the area as if it were daylight. As the fireball from the road climbed into the air, a fighter screamed over the road, causing the flames to roll as the air was torn aside by its passage.

  Radar had picked up our battle with the bag ladies. Now someone was aiming to even up the score and had just missed turning us into baked beings.

  Chapter 24

  “Oh, ——,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The fighter wheeled about to make another pass at us.

  Nikki didn’t need any encouragement. I fell back into the seat as we flew forward at maximum speed.

  “Get the radar on them,” Nikki said.

  “Good idea.” I struggled to overcome our acceleration and get my hand to the switch to turn the machine on. Then I had to turn the antenna to pick up what was behind us.

  “Let me know if they fire any missiles.”

  “They have those?”

  “You better believe it,” Nikki said. ” I suspect he’s holding off because he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with.”

  “A sitting duck.”

  “But when he sees that we can keep up with the rocket, I’m sure he’ll try to get us before we get away from him—”