Part-Time God

by E.W. Pierce

I nodded. Though it ate at me that Alice didn't seem to like me, I had no desire to bump into her again.

  *

  "Tighten up, UV3." Dad's voice came through the radio.

  I goosed the throttle and nosed the drone closer to the others. Outside, sand dunes undulated to the horizon.

  Red numbers scrolled past on the heads-up display. Our target was a terrorist stronghold. According to the mission profile, the base was heavily guarded, with standing turrets and ground-to-air missiles.

  My mouth was dry and my hands felt heavy on the controls. When Dad asked, I told him I was ready.

  A series of buildings rose in the distance- square, angular shapes. The proximity alert suddenly screeched.

  Dad swore. "Incoming - evasive maneuvers."

  Plumes of smoke marred the blue sky as the missiles screamed toward us. Already, the other drones were rolling and diving. I punched the throttle fully forward and spun off to the left.

  The missiles were displayed as red dots on the radar. One of the dots turned to follow me. The radar beeped, steadily grower faster. I spared a glance back. The missile loomed over the drone like an enormous gray shark.

  The drones were quick and agile, and were meant for quick-strike, surgical operations. They were not overly fast, and certainly didn't have the thrust to outrun missiles. But that didn't mean I was doomed.

  I leveled out and, when I was sure the missile was directly behind me, flicked a switch, releasing flares. If I was lucky, the flares would confuse the missile's tracking mechanism. I held my breath and watched the display.

  The missile kept coming. The radar beeped urgently.

  My heart leapt into my throat. I tugged on the controls, twisting and turning, but the missile matched each maneuver.

  "I can't shake it," I yelled into the comm.

  Other shouts greeted mine. Dad's voice cut through the chatter. "Stay calm. Deploy your measures."

  "Tried that. Shit - it's gonna get me."

  Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew that I wasn't truly in danger. But it was such a real, tangible moment that I felt like I was truly in the drone's cockpit, about to be split into a billion tiny, bloody, pieces. My hands felt sweaty on the controls and I was afraid they would slip off completely.

  I flipped the drone up and around, flashing the wings at the sky. The missile flew past, slowed, reoriented. The rest of the drones had moved toward the base and were trading fire with the turrets.

  A bright explosion ripped open the sky over the base. The cockpit darkened against the flare. Voices shouted over the comm.

  "What happened?" I checked the radar and then tapped my finger on the display, not believing my eyes. There was only one green ship on the screen. Mine.

  "Head in the game, three," Dad said.

  The radar beeped incessantly, growing louder with each cycle. I punched the throttle, sending the drone toward the black smoke and the crumbled, white shapes spinning toward the ground like scorched snowflakes.

  The missile rode at my back as my drone sliced through the clouds of smoke. Sweat ran down the side of my face. It was gonna be close.

  The turrets starting firing - too late - as I screamed over the wall. I angled toward the line of missile launchers. Below, bearded men in tattered robes smiled and danced.

  I shared the smile as the drone crashed into the nearest pile of ammunition.

  *

  The headline read Boy Destroys Terrorist Camp.

  That hadn't exactly been my intent - I'd just been hoping to take out the missile launchers. But as witnessed by Captain Philmore on the sat scan, the missile had followed my drone right into the stockpile of ammunition. The resulting explosion had toppled most of the base. Enemy casualties were confirmed at 90%.

  School was abuzz. Everyone came up to me, congratulating me or giving me five. Even cool kids and seniors. At first, I felt self-conscious, and I kept an eye out for Kyle. But after a while, I felt safe in my newfound notoriety.

  Judy skipped over to my locker. She wore a fitted, button-up white shirt, hip-hugger jeans, and a seductive smile.

  I smiled. "Hi."

  She grabbed my arm. "Ohmygod, Jordan - I read all about your last mission. Were you scared?"

  I thought about being macho and saying no, but staring into her soft, chocolate eyes, I couldn't lie. "Yeah, a little. I mean, I knew I wasn't in danger, but it's so real, you know?"

  "What was it like?"

  "What - being chased by the missile?"

  "No." She bit her lip. "How did it feel to kill them?"

  I frowned. In truth, I hadn't really thought too much about it. I remembered seeing the men's faces blur past. But then the drone had ran into the launcher and the display had darkened.

  "I don't know." I searched for some powerful analogy, something poetic to make her swoon, but words were never my specialty, especially with girls. "Good, I guess. They were terrorists, right?"

  She nodded solemnly. "You are so brave." She reached into her purse and pulled out scrap paper and a pen. After a second of scrawling, she passed the slip to me.

  I glanced at the paper, at once suspecting, but afraid to hope. It was her phone number.

  "Call me sometime."

  "Yeah," I mumbled, nodding. "Okay."

  She winked. "See ya."

  I watched her go, dumbfounded. My stomach fluttered and a slow grin crept across my face. After a few seconds of standing there, grinning like an idiot, I hurried off to find Tommy. He was headed for class when I caught up with him.

  "You are never gonna belief what just happened."

  He cast a thick black brow at me. "Kyle Stevens admitted that he likes to suck monkey balls?"

  "Better."

  He frowned. "What's better than that?"

  "This." I shoved the hot pink paper into his hands. "Judy's number."

  His mouth fell open. "You son of a… how'd you pull that off?"

  I smiled easily. "She finally came to her senses and realized what a stud I am."

  He laughed, harder than I thought necessary.

  I felt my face reddening. "That's funny?"

  "Dude - you've been after her since the third grade, and never once has she even noticed you."

  "That's not true."

  Tommy rolled his eyes. "Sixth-grade lab partners doesn't count."

  "She told me I had steady hands."

  "You're such a tool. She just didn't want to do the dissection." He lifted a hand, forestalling my response. "Whatever, dude - that's prehistoric. Don't you see what's happening?"

  I blinked.

  "This thing you're doing - you're so popular now, because everyone thinks it's cool. Blowing up terrorists and shit. That's why she gave you this." He waved the pink paper in my face.

  I snatched it. I knew he was right, but didn't want to admit it. "You're just jealous."

  He scowled, and for a minute, I thought he was going to slug me in the arm. But then he grinned. "Hell yeah I'm jealous! That's some AAA tail. Good on you."

  "Still," he said, "you gotta realize - this won't last forever. What happens if the war turns, or if people start saying bad things about the VCF?" He stopped walking and looked at me. "All I'm saying is - don't get too attached."

  I had already realized that my 15 minutes would be short-lived, and the fall-out likely severe. But that was a concern for another day.

  *

  I talked to Judy on the phone over the next two weeks. She asked lots of questions about the VCF, though I didn't have anything exciting to tell her, just recounts of drills. I asked about her brother a few times, but she always changed the subject.

  Every time, after a few minutes on the phone, my initial euphoria faded into a murky malaise. My tongue felt fat in my mouth, and either my mind was completely blank of things to say, or those that I hit upon were so stupid they were better left unsaid.

  It was in one of these awkward silences that I asked her out. I had been mulling over the idea for a long time (since t
he third grade), and desperate to find something to say, it slipped out.

  To my surprise, she accepted. We agreed to the movies the following Friday night. It was a safe date, only a couple of hours, and minimal conversation. I would have to work very hard to blow it.

  Plus, everyone went to the movies Friday nights. Her being seen with me would feel like validation. Tommy's voice whispered through my head. She's just using you.

  I pushed away such thoughts. Even if she was using me, I felt confident that I could make her like me, given time and opportunity.

  Neither of us had a license, so we agreed to meet outside the theater. It was a late fall day, the kind where leaf-choked puddles line the streets. She wasn't there, so I tucked my hands into my jacket and waited.

  We lived in a small town, one with an old-style main street. The theater - a small, three screen affair - crouched on the corner, rising above the other red brick buildings. Douzi's, an ice cream parlor, butted up to the theater.

  I was looking at the colorful depictions of gigantic ice cream cones painted onto Douzi's front windows, contemplating if I should buy Judy a cone after the show, when Alice stepped out onto the sidewalk, a double chocolate cone in hand. She was focused on her cone and didn't see me.

  I cursed and glanced around for somewhere to hide and, finding nothing, considered running into the theater. But then I realized that if Judy arrived and didn't see me, she might think I had stood her up.

  I turned so that Alice approached at my back. Maybe she would walk right by, not realizing it was me. Just in case, I pretended to search down the street for something important.

  Her feet were shuffling closer, rubber scrapping on cement. I held my breath, waiting for her to pass… and then the foot steps stopped.

  "Nobody to kill tonight?"

  I winced but didn't turn around right away. Instead, I continued looking down the street and then, almost as an afterthought, glanced over my shoulder. "Oh, sorry - didn't see you there." I returned to my vigil.

  She shuffled forward and shielded her eyes. "Looking for terrorists? Careful - they could be anywhere."

  "No." I bit out the word. "I am looking for my date. Maybe you should start looking for a life."

  "People date killers in this town?"

  "Most people think I'm a hero."

  She licked her cone. "Did you know that the US imprisoned thousands of Japanese-Americans during World War II, for no other reason than fear?"

  I rolled my eyes. "What I'm doing is not the same, so save your history lesson."

  "I don't know what would be worse - that you don't have a brain, or that you do, but don't use it." Brown ice cream dripped onto her hand.

  I felt like knocking her stupid cone onto the sidewalk. "The parallel you're trying to draw is stupid, and so are your clothes."

  I glanced at my watch. The movie had already started.

  "Enjoy your date." She went back to her ice cream, resuming her slow shuffle down the sidewalk.

  I thought about responding with another insult, but there didn't seem to be a point. I sat on the front stoop and waited.

  *

  I didn't hear from Judy until I bumped into her at school on Monday. She seemed surprised to see me, but not embarrassed.

  She said her parents had grounded her, and she wanted to call, but they took her phone away too. She twirled her hair and looked at the ceiling.

  I wanted to believe her, but I didn't. Her fumbling excuse when I asked to reschedule didn't help.

  Tommy wasn't sympathetic when I told him at lunch.

  He sneered over the top of his burger. "What'd I tell you? She's just using you." He took a bite and spoke with his mouth full. "She's probably moved onto another dude already. Whore."

  "Gee - thanks Tommy. You really know how to cheer a guy up."

  He shrugged. "Whatever, dude. I warned you about her."

  "So."

  "So, don't act like someone just took away your new toy. Our kind don't mix well with hers."

  I shrugged. "She'll come around. After we have another big mission, maybe."

  "Don't be stupid - just forget her. There's other chicks in the sea."

  "Not like her."

  "My point exactly."

  "Pfft - like you wouldn't want five minutes alone with her."

  He arched a fat eyebrow. "And?"

  "You're jealous."

  "Maybe, but I'm not stupid."

  I must have looked pissed, because he added, "Look at the bright side - if she's already bored with you, maybe that douche-bag Stevens will be too."

  I felt skeptical about Kyle forgetting about me, but maybe Tommy was right. Maybe everyone was getting used to the idea, and my short-lived celebrity was over.

  It wouldn't be all bad, I realized. Maybe that loony Alice would finally get off my back. "I guess it wouldn't be all bad if things got back to normal."

  He grinned. "See? I told ya. He pointed at my untouched tray. "You gonna eat that?"

  *

  We didn't fly any combat missions the next two weeks. Josh and I speculated about the next mission on the way home from drills one day. I thought it was going to be an assault on another terrorist stronghold. Josh thought we would be flying against helicopters the terrorists were rumored to have acquired. If Dad knew, he didn't let on.

  The only thing we were sure of was that it was going to be big. The drills were fairly intensive, requiring us to hit small, moving targets at long ranges, and often with obstructions limiting our angles. Captain Philmore paced more than usual when he debriefed us on the results.

  Finally, we got the call. We were excited, even Dad was grinning. I didn't really get pre-mission jitters any more. Despite my pledge to Tommy to move on, I hoped this mission was big enough to get me noticed by Judy again.

  Our excitement carried us into the mission briefing, a meeting that Captain Philmore made us sit down for. I was irritated - I just wanted to get into the cockpit.

  "This is a very special mission," Philmore said. "Our intelligence has located Al-Habbeb Marwon, the leader of Al Qaeda in Iraq." Josh and I shared a grin, and on the monitor, I could see our squad-mates smiling.

  "He'll see us coming a mile away with conventional forces," Philmore continued. "And since the Pentagon wants him dead, this is an ideal mission for the VCF."

  He cleared his throat. "There is another reason. This strike requires the utmost precision." He brought up a 3-D typographical map.

  "This is where Marwon is hiding out." The map zoomed on a cluster of buildings. "His base is here," a red X winked into view. "The surrounding buildings are not targets."

  I frowned. "That looks like a playground."

  Philmore nodded. "Surrounding Marwon's headquarters is an elementary school, a hospital, and several apartment buildings."

  I blinked. "But isn't it dangerous to attack him when there are so many innocent people nearby? They could be hurt. Or killed."

  Philmore glanced at Dad.

  "This is the reason we are here, the reason the VCF exists. Missions like these," Dad waved his hand at the map, "are too risky to undertake with normal military methods. The collateral damage would be too high."

  I still didn't want to believe. "So you want us to fly into a populated area and take out one guy? Why not wait until he is outside, away from so many innocent people?"

  "We've had Marwon under surveillance for some time," Philmore said. "He never leaves the compound. This is the only way."

  I still didn't feel sure.

  "Marwon has chosen this location for a reason. Men like him are cowards. They would use innocent people as a shield, and then in the next breath, turn on them. The world will only ever be safe by taking out people like him."

  When there were no other questions, Philmore went through the final details of the mission. I didn't hear him. I knew I should be absorbing every detail, so as to not jeopardize any of those innocent people, but all I could do was think about what we were about to do.


  Dad caught Josh and I on the way to the cockpits. "You two alright?"

  I shrugged. "I guess so."

  "It'll be okay. They wouldn't ask us to do this if they weren't sure we could. Just remember what you have learned."

  Dad gave us a quick hug and hurried us to the cockpits. I felt like a robot, watching passively as my hands moved of their own violation. The screens winked on. As the sun-scorched landscape came into view, my stomach soured.

  Something was niggling at the back of my mind, some dark thought that seemed urgent. I tried to pull it to the front, but voices were coming over the radio and I had to focus.

  We were given the go to lift-off. My hands trembled as I reached out for the controls.

  It was a long flight, and with nothing to do, my mind wandered. I realized that Dad had known about this all along. Not this mission necessarily - I doubted the military trusted any of us enough to give mission details in advance - but he knew of the likelihood of just such a mission.

  My face warmed. Dad lied to us about the true purpose of the VCF, but in reality, I guess I had always known. That was why I always felt uncomfortable when Alice confronted me about what we were doing.

  The thing disturbing me the most though was that Dad seemed completely indifferent. When had he become a man that used terms like 'collateral damage' so breezily? Did he love us less because he was willing to sacrifice other children, and therefore couldn't possibly love us fully?

  I knew that wasn't true - Dad had never been a sentimental sort, and though he didn't come out and say it, I knew he loved us. But his love felt dirty and wrong now, and I didn't want it.

  With an urgency that bordered on panic, I suddenly wanted to run away, to get away from him. But there was no where to go. The cockpit was sealed until the mission was over.

  The proximity alert started to beep, indicating we were nearing the objective. Growing on the horizon was a city. Squat lean-tos cluttered the low walls that encircled the town. Further in, gray buildings stood tall against the indifferent sky.

  The radar switched to a top-down perspective of the city, then zoomed down to a five thousand-foot view. The radar painted Marwon's headquarters red, an open wound against the vibrant green color of the rest of the city.

  "Keep to a thousand feet," Dad said. "We'll drop loads in pairs. UV 2 on me - we'll go first. After we're clear, 3 & 4, take your shots. We go until our payloads are deployed, then we strafe the streets and take out any stragglers that sat scan picks up during the attack."

  The line was silent. Building flickered past as we crossed into the city, small houses arranged in imprecise rows.