Madeline and Adam had to wait a day for the personal jet to arrive. Another day of shopping would have probably killed Adam so he persuaded her to do a spot of sight seeing around Quito instead. Even sight seeing though, brought on another headache but then he realised it was the altitude. Of course Madeline had no such problem, altitude didn’t affect her as she (Poppy) was actually - probably in Buxton England. True, Buxton’s claim to fame was that it was the highest town in England but Quito was eight and a half times higher – the highest city in the world. It was ever likely Adam’s head was pounding like it was He dearly hoped the Learjet was pressurised as the aspirins weren’t working at all.
The Learjet landed smoothly on a private runway just outside Quito and taxied almost right up to Madeline’s and Adam’s feet. Zol Pidem greeted them and welcomed them on board. They half expected him not to be there, passing the mammoth task on to one of his minions but he was true to his word – he was taking them.
Madeline got quite annoyed that, despite the fact that she had saved the world many times and was known throughout the world she still had to have a passport to basically prove who she was. However if you had loads of money, enough to own your own private jet, you could bypass all that bureaucratic authoritarian crap. Of course that was life, it was and always would be money that pulled strings, opened doors and enabled you to avoid confrontations with officious immature, overweight, pincushions.
The first leg of the epic journey was a straight forward flight across to Florida. Once the plane had reached cruising height, Zol left Grayling at the controls and sat with Madeline and Adam.
‘All right?’ said Zol brightly.
‘Yea, fine thanks… Unusual name?’ Madeline probed.
‘Zol? I suppose it is. I’m South African – as you’ve probably guessed. My parents seemed to have a sense of humour; Zol is a hand rolled cannabis cigarette.’ explained Zol.
‘So, how’ve you made your money, in cannabis cigarettes?’
‘No, not exactly - Pharmaceuticals, mainly sleeping tablets.’
‘So why have you changed sides?’ asked Adam.
‘Good question. As good as it is, I realise now that this world, this utopia cannot go on forever. We either irritate or harmonise with our host – with you.’
‘You put up the funds to attempt to keep me here?’ said Madeline.
‘Nuttall has a different approach to the situation. It all seemed a good idea at first but now I have my doubts,’ said Zol.
At that moment Grayling, the co-pilot called him on the intercom.
‘Excuse me, seems I’m needed.’
Madeline and Adam were left on their own in the luxurious seats, each with a glass of champagne.
‘Do you trust him?’ asked Adam.
‘What have I got to lose? He seems genuine enough…’
Adam finished off his champagne, reclined his seat and quickly fell asleep. Madeline had far too much on her mind to drift off. The evidence was there, irrefutably, this world, this life, everything about it was of her own fashioning. Apparently it was all in her subconscious – it was her dream – it wasn’t real. But this was nonsense, surely? This world was real, as real as a cold shower, a rainy day, Marmite on toast, smiles and sadness. It was indistinguishable – she lived, was alive in this, her own world. And it was not as if she had any control over her ‘own world’. At times it was a cruel place, a sad and tormenting place. Altogether a far direr prospect was that this wasn’t a dream world and those white figures at the top of the mountain were angels beckoning her to her makers, to the pearly gates, to her death.
Then with a rush of reality, she homed in on everything about her – she was in a tank. Everything she saw, heard and felt was relayed from Madeline, a robot. Small TV screens in front of her eyes and earphones were permanent fixtures. Numerous direct connections to her nerves gave her feeling. She had become accustomed to it, so much so that it was second nature but it wasn’t real – it never could be. However she looked at it, life wasn’t real. She was either in a dream state or saw it artificially through the wonders of technology.
She became depressed with her thoughts, a saline tear formed. Zol returned from the cockpit, Madeline snapped out of her gloom and surreptitiously wiped her tear away.
‘Landing in Ocala in a few minutes. We’ll refuel and be off again in about an hour,’ said Zol.
Adam was still asleep, oblivious to his girlfriend’s state of mind. Zol noticed the tear but remained discrete. He smiled at her and returned to the cockpit.
The jet landed smoothly as usual, piloted by Zol. All but Grayling got out and stretched their legs. Strictly speaking Madeline didn’t have to do this or drink that glass of champagne but she didn’t want to make Adam feel uncomfortable. Madeline’s legs certainly didn’t need stretching and when they did, to circulate the oil, it was wise do behind closed doors with a carefully chosen audience.
A black fighter jet landed some distance away. It may have been a common sight on this airstrip but Zol and Adam watched on uneasily, as a tanker raced over to refuel it.
Madeline was more concerned about her short flimsy pink dress clashing with the paisley lining of her white leather jacket. This was easily remedied - she took the jacket off off.
The next leg of the journey to Alaska also went without incident. Adam got bored and in desperation, read the in flight literature which amounted to a few Home and Beauty magazines. Madeline caught up on her tweets; this was something she felt necessary to do. She was now a bona fide fashion icon with a rapidly growing cult following regarding her dress sense.
At the next refuelling stop, the temperature was noticeably cooler, especially for Adam. Florida was a comfortable 28 degrees; Fort Yukon airstrip in Alaska was a spine chilling minus 10. Despite this, Madeline refused to put her jacket back on. After all, it was a lovely short pink dress with a daringly low cut neck line and three quarter length butterfly patterned lace sleeves – such a shame to cover it up.
There was nowhere really to go, it was just a matter of breathing in a lung full of icy fresh air and then getting back on board.
Strangely enough, a black jet fighter happened to land close by. It looked exactly like the one gracing the airstrip in Florida but surely that would have been too much of a coincidence.
Chapter 43: A black menace
From now on they would be leaving the strictly supervised American air space behind and head towards the desolate and inhospitable parts of Russia and beyond. From out of the window Madeline could make out the Bearing Straits where America ended and Russia began she could also make out a black jet fighter in the distance, rapidly heading towards them.
‘Zol, I think we’ve got company,’
Zol peered out of the window and immediately headed towards the cockpit.
‘Oh my God, it’s firing at us!’ screamed Adam in an unusually high pitched voice.
The seat belt sign came on and the plane aggressively dived without warning. Adam watched as the missile past over the top of him and the plane. Zol came through on the intercom.
‘Madeline, see if you can talk some sense into Nuttall; can’t see a way out of this.’
‘Nuttall, Nuttall!’ yelled Madeline to herself.
No reply came back. He was either out of range or he was ignoring her. Either way, this was bad. It wasn’t the best place in the world to crash a plane. The sea below was icy cold and certainly nobody would be around to rescue them… if anyone happened to survive. The plane levelled up and then tried to gain some height. The twin jets screamed on full throttle. It was a very agile plane but was never designed for even the mildest form of combat. Adam spotted the enemy jet turning around for a second pass. The first pass, they were lucky, they wouldn’t get away with it again. The jet fighter rapidly approached. This time Zol couldn’t out manoeuvre it, he tried to climb out of the line of fire but this time the missile was on target, moments later it hit. The starboard engine instantly stopped screaming and dramatically e
xploded. Many bits of turbine spewed out of the rear nozzle along with flames and thick smoke. The Learjet was now running on one engine.
‘He’s targeting the engines… we’re a sitting duck,’ shouted Zol through the intercom.
Madeline ran in to the cockpit.
‘Zol, I need the door open!’
‘Can’t at this height… have to depressurise!’
‘Do it!’ yelled Madeline.
Zol put the Learjet into a serious dive. Fortunately Adam had his seatbelt on but Madeline hadn’t. Weightlessness was a strange and wasted experience for an android. She floated gently out of the cockpit, past Adam and towards the rear of the plane. Finally the plane levelled up. The oxygen masks dropped, the interior suddenly went cold and misty and Madeline dropped heavily to the floor.
‘Okay, we’re depressurised, the door should open. He’s coming in again for another go!’ said Zol through the intercom.
The black fighter jet was now on its third pass and was approaching with almost the speed of a bullet. Madeline already had her laser finger set on full, she threw the levers and yanked the door open on its hinges. Air rushed into the cabin along with thick smoke from the destroyed engine. She found a grab handle to hold on to with her left hand and carefully aimed her right hand with the laser finger directly at the pilot’s eyes. Time slowed down, milliseconds turned into seconds – it had to be the adrenalin in her veins. She waited until the last possible moment and then fired. The green laser beam sliced a hole in the fuselage. A hit but just a superficial wound, the jet was still on course. She instantly fired again but missed the plane entirely. In the mean time, another missile had been fired and was now on its way heading for the second engine. Moments later the missile hit. Zol saw it coming but with only one engine powering the plane, couldn’t do much about it other than sit there and grit his teeth. Luckily the missile missed the port engine but clipped the wing. The Learjet was now unstable, Zol fought with the controls to keep it steady.
The fighter jet was now approaching for the forth time; it had wounded its prey and was now in for the kill. The next missile would surely finish them off.
It was a gambol, her energy reserves were down to 8% - she engaged explosive motion, level 3. (Now she could do this in an instant with the training she had with Vampire bats). Her left arm firmed up like the arm of a JCB digger, her grip locked like a blacksmith’s vice on the grab handle. Much better, she held perfectly still and fired her laser for the third time, the whole of the cockpit lit up.
That was the end of the jet fighter; it plummeted into the cold sea below leaving a column of black smoke above it.
‘Adam!’ screamed Madeline, ‘Nearly out of power, can’t hold on.’
Adam could see her plight. She was dangling out of the doorway. He raced over to her and grabbed her right hand just as her left hand released its grip on the grab. The plane jolted and Madeline was outside the door - outside the plane. Adam wrapped his feet around the nearby seat frame and held on to her for dear life. She was heavy and his grip was slipping. Sweat poured from Adam despite the freezing air rushing into the cabin.
‘Sweetheart, you’ll have to let me go. I’ll be alright,’ Madeline shouted.
‘Not on your life, I’ve got you,’ Adam lied.
‘No you haven’t!’
The writing was on the wall - the grip was failing. Madeline was going to fall, without a chute this time, many thousands of feet into the sea below. Adam cried out, he tried to increase his grip but Madeline was too heavy – much heavier than a normal size zero, one, two or three – whatever, slip of a girl. Adam desperately needed explosive motion but he didn’t have it. He knew Madeline, despite her invulnerability, almost certainly wouldn’t survive the fall. Madeline could see Adam was in pain but recognised his fortitude. Adam sensed her slacken her grip, however it was not through surrender but because she was completely out of power, even her backup batteries were spent – she was dead again.
There was little hope, within seconds Madeline would be falling towards the sea below at terminal velocity. The only way out now was a little help from a fairy Godmother – she obliged.
The Learjet hit an air pocket and plummeted downwards. Suddenly Madeline was weightless and floated upwards, Adam seized the moment and dragged her into the cabin. His whole arm was numb with pain but he found strength to close the door and then flaked on the plush carpet.
It was touch and go, Zol continued to fight with the controls to stabilise the plane but Adam was unconcerned, he had faith in Zol. All that mattered was that Madeline was now safe.
After a few minutes, Adam gained enough strength to lift Madeline into her seat and plugged her into a handy 13 amp power socket. Then he strapped himself into his own seat and fell asleep.
Being dead, Madeline (Poppy) was now disconnected completely from her android body. She had no way of knowing her fate. Most likely she was now bobbing about in the cold Bering Sea and if that was the case there was very little chance of survival even for an android. Realistically Adam couldn’t possibly have pulled her into the plane. Her last sight was seeing his hand slipping off her hand. That was the end then, only DVD’s to look forward to. She was considering feeling sorry for the pilot she had just vaporised but… he asked for it. He shouldn’t have fired missiles at a defenceless little Learjet.
Chapter 44: A special android
Only one engine and a hole in the wing necessitated an emergency landing at a place called Kresta bay on the far outskirts of north east Russia. It wasn’t a particularly smooth landing, not because of the serious damage but because of the state of the landing strip. It was unclear if it was made of tarmac, concrete or hard mud but it was clearly not designed for Learjets with pretty little alloy wheels.
Adam considered himself to be in a bad way: He had another pounding headache, the depressurisation and breathing through an oxygen mask hadn’t helped and his arm was aching - but these things were relatively trivial. It could have been a lot worse. If both engines had been hit, the Learjet would have had to have ditched in the icy sea then they all would have frozen to death, drowned or have been slowly eaten by sharks.
Unfortunately, with Madeline temporarily dead, Adam had no one to comfort him with his throbbing head. This used to be one of Madeline’s top talents (inherited from Poppy but he didn’t know this). She could position her fingers in just the right spot on his temples and massage the throbbing pain away.
Zol emerged from the cockpit; he needed to see the hero of the day. It was now clear to him that Madeline was inordinately unique. Normal people can’t shoot fighter jets out of the sky with their finger. Normal people don’t hook themselves up to the onboard power supply to recharge, they just eat. Zol opened another bottle of bubbly.
‘She may be what she is but I love her more than life itself,’ said Adam, holding his painful head.
‘She’s very special, she saved our lives up there,’ said Zol.
‘More than special, she gives us everything and I don’t want to loose her,’ said Adam with an emotional choke developing.
‘You won’t loose her, you’ll always be there. Whenever the real Adam pisses her off, lets her down, falls short of being her perfect gentleman, you’ll be there. You’ll take his place. You are a very fortunate man.’ said Zol quietly.
‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ asked Adam seriously.
‘Yes it does. I have so much money, so much power and it matters not a jot. I misguidedly tried to fund an extended life by keeping her here but now I know that was immoral.’
‘And unsuccessful,’ interrupted Adam.
‘Yes quite. I realise now, everything here in this world is a gift. We must accept matters and make the most of it while we have it.’
‘She’ll remember you too… with a name like that, she’s bound to!’ Adam smirked
Zol smiled and patted Adam on the back.
‘I suppose I better go and see the state of the old girl,’ said Zol.
Ma
deline roused with a jolt just as the Zol left the plane.
‘I’m still alive! Missed anything,’ she chirped cheerfully.
‘Just a right old pounder, almost gone now,’ said Adam.
Chapter 45: Off the shoulder number
Eggynogg was like no other place Madeline or Adam had ever been before. Surely the surface of the moon was more hospitable than here. It was ridiculously cold and apparently remained freezing, even in the summer. No trees, plants or flowers, all to cold for that. It was bleak, sparsely populated and untidy but it had its own beauty. Mountains in the background as old as time, bare, grey, splattered in snow, swaddled the small town. The indigenous People however were hardened to it, would have it no other way and because of their isolation knew little of Madeline Bull. This was refreshing.
It was peaceful and stress free and Madeline especially, loved it. Even though the buildings bore a severe lack of any architectural skills, they were considerately painted in bold primary colours to brighten the place up – how nice.
The Learjet was, as expected, grounded until parts could be flown over. Parts for Learjets, not surprisingly, were not stocked anywhere close.
Zol, with all his money managed to seal a deal on an old Dakota style aeroplane. Clearly it had awaited adoption at the side of the runway for many months if not years. Of course the old bird had nothing like the range of the Learjet but hopefully it would get them to some sort of civilisation.
It would take a day to get it ready and fuelled, this meant time together in one of the most remote parts of the world. With remoteness came a different life style - very little luxury, not the best of restaurants or the most comfortably hotel rooms. In fact there were no hotels or restaurants in the small town. The previous owner of the old plane kindly offered to put the four of them up for the night.
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