Flightsuit (12 page)

Taylor sat by the river looking at the bottom of the checklist, with no other minds nearby to boost his think rate, and realized things were horribly, and possibly irrevocably, off plan.  As he tried to figure out some missing logic that would connect his otherwise insane plans, he thought of something else and felt a spike of fear. 

What else have I done?   I might have done even worse things than this.  What if I've already killed someone?
  Unable to trust his thinking even now, with his mind finally, inexplicably, clear, he searched his memory for the past days.  He remembered making arrangements with Sowyer to swap the forged artifact, and enough to decide that his memory wasn't faulty.  At least he could remember doing these things, even though looking back he couldn't see any reason to do them. 
Other than the checklist
, he thought. 
They were on the list and I did them
. 

He picked up his bound checklists and thumbed from page to page, reliving the past year.  Most of the lists dealt with running the business and dealing with clients.  The lists seemed to make sense, until the ones after he'd learned of the artifact. 

He'd picked knowledge of the artifact from an earlier client.  Timeshared memories of a Senator suggested a strange artifact had been found and was being researched by the NSA.  After that, he saw checklists focused on human networking with the right people.  People who could introduce Timeshare, Inc. to Hack Samuels' chain of command.  The planted seed eventually grew into the suggestion that brought Samuels to him.  There were still a few checklists after that that dealt with other business, but as weeks passed, the checklists were all geared toward the artifact.

Sitting in the car, Taylor looked up from the checklist.  I
have to think of a way out of this.  Need more brainpower.  Need to drive back to town and look for a group to draw from.
  He reached for the key, and was about to turn it over when his head exploded.

The explosion was a simultaneous sensory overload of all of his senses.  Instead of the river sliding by, he saw a maelstrom of jagged colors
, and a Picasso-kaleidoscope of random images from memory, all flash popping in his eyes, or his mind's eye.  The sound was a scream of shattering gears and screeching chalkboard.  He jumped, impossibly trying to draw back in every direction at once as he felt the shock of skin-scalding heat all over his body.

And then it was over.  His hands weren't burned raw, he could hear the river as the sound came back to his awareness
, and he saw the morning's sunlight like glass shards on the water. 
What was that?
Taylor already feared it would happen again.  He waited pensively, tense.  After a moment, an image came to his mind.  It was like a memory, like recalling something. 
That's no memory.  I haven't done that.
  The image was him getting out of the car, and walking to the steep hill across the road.  He saw himself begin climbing, gripping trunks and exposed roots of small trees to pull himself up.  He craned his head out the car's window to see the top of the hill. 
There's nothing special up there.  Why would I do that?

The sensory flash returned.  He screamed into the morning quiet.  Frustration seared into him.  He was angry and frustrated. 
No.  Wait.  I don't feel frustrated.  Something else is frustrated, and it's being communicated to me with these mental explosions.  Something or someone wants me to keep following orders and if I don't obey, I'm being shown consequences.
  He looked at the hill again and opened the door.  He locked it and walked across the road.  Just looking back at the car raised an electric tingle across his shoulders, promising a more painful coercion if he went back.  Taylor began climbing.

They both looked down into the hole.  It wasn't deep, less than two feet.  But it was wide.  They'd found something larger than the sleeve. 

The other sleeve lo
oked the same as the one Leo found, although this one was still covered in dirt.  It didn't appear to be broken or cracked, at least in the part Ethan's digging had exposed.  It was attached to a very large chest and torso.  Ethan sat down on the edge of the hole and rested, with Leo standing behind him.  They stared into the hole.

The torso was face-down.  Ethan's excavations outlined a shape that would fit a large man.  It was smooth, with no visible openings, just a solid glass-metal shell to cover someone's torso, chest and shoulders.  Someone with a large chest. 

Ethan gripped the neck collar and pulled.  Like Leo, he misjudged the force required to move it and when it came free, he fell backward.  He sat hard on the tin sheeting making a horrendously loud screech.  Ethan looked at Leo sheepishly and grinned. 

"I did the same thing," Leo told him, smiling back.  "You're ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Ethan said, "This thing is huge."

The torso and chest were barrel-sized.  Every visible surface was the same glossy white glass-metal.  Leo noticed stylized arcs and swirls on the new sleeve like the ones on the left one he wore.  Ethan was amazed by how light it was.  The thing looked solid and heavy, but it was an optical illusion.  He couldn't imagine anything other than plastic that would have a comparable weight.  Even aluminum would be heavier.  Ethan held the entire frame from his extended arm amazed.  Grasping it in both hands
, he slowly turned it over to look inside.

"See if there's muck in the sleeve," Leo suggested, "try to dump it out".

Ethan shook the sleeve, emptying a small pile of dry dirt.

Ethan pulled an old handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the chest, looking for markings.  The dirt came off easily, leaving a glassy almost wet-looking surface.  The trees overhead cast shadows that made it harder to focus, Ethan said, "Let's move over here where we can see it better". 

They moved a few feet over and sat on the log remains of the clipped treetop. 

"Is it some kind of space suit?" Leo asked. 

"Maybe.  That's what I would think too, but…" Ethan held the hand with two fingers up to finish his thought.

Ethan continued wiping dust from the suit, looking at the markings. 

"Look at how the dirt just falls off of it," Ethan said.  "I've never seen anything repel dirt like that.  It just falls off.  After a few minutes, the suit was clear of dirt and shone in the sunlight.  Even the areas Ethan didn't wipe were clear of grime, leaving the suit uniformly clean.

Leo reached over to feel the surface.  When his hand touched, they heard a buzzing, almost musical hum.  Ethan dropped the suit, snatching back his
hands as if he'd been shocked.

The suit dipped when he turned loose, but dropped only
inches, bouncing slightly, floating in the air.  As it did, Leo almost fell into it as the sleeve he was wearing yanked toward the suit.  He rebalanced himself to avoid tipping into it.  Even after he'd stabilized himself, the sleeve he wore seemed heavier, pulled by the weight of the floating suit somehow.

They both looked at the suit floating a foot from the ground.  It rotated slowly about a foot from Leo.  As it moved, Leo felt slight tugs on the sleeve as if he were holding the suit in his arm and moving it himself, although he wasn't touching it at all.

Ethan reached for the suit, meaning to pull it back from Leo.  It was unnerving to watch a mechanical thing acting on its own.  It felt menacing and dangerous, like an animal acting on instinct in a way that you couldn't predict.  As Ethan's fingers tightened on the suit's collar, the musical hum came back with a sharply-rising tone. 

Ethan sprang back from the suit, s
tinging pain in his entire hand and crumbled to the ground with his back against the log.  The stinging didn't abate. When he tried to move his fingers, they didn't respond.  "My hand is paralyzed." 

Even as he said it though he felt the stinging sensation rising up his arm.  Forearm, then upper arm felt
the stinging fire and his arm dropped paralyzed into his lap.  The paralysis reached his chest and shot quickly through the rest of his body, deadening everything below his shoulders and setting his nerves afire.  Sweat dripped from his forehead and ran down his scalp.  His breathing became heavy and desperate.  He had to concentrate to pull enough air in and work to exhale room for more.  Ethan realized that if the paralysis continued he could die.  He closed his eyes and worked desperately to control himself.  Moments passed before he reopened his eyes, first looking at Leo's face and seeing that he was still ok.  He then looked down and saw the grass fading from bright green to dust brown.  He concentrated on breathing.

He let himself catch up a few breaths
, then said "I can't move Leo.  It's done something to paralyze my arm and legs."  He gasped for air as he finished. 

The stinging nerves faded, leaving him unable to move anything below his neck. 

He looked up at Leo, who was breathing hard and slumping down to his knees. 

Ethan made himself calm down.  He took breath after breath, deeper and deeper to calm himself.  The grass around them
turned brown and dusty dry.

"Are you ok, Leo?" Ethan asked. When Leo didn't respond, he asked louder, "Leo!  Are you ok?"  Ethan pressed his lungs like heavy bellows.

Leo looked up at Ethan, "Yes," he breathed heavily.  "I'm just so tired, all of a sudden, like that thing just really made me tired."

"Its ok, Leo," Ethan told him, trying to reassure him, "It's under control now." 

He must be crazy
, Leo thought. 
If he thinks this is under control, he must be crazy.  This is the definition of 'not under control'. 

Leo felt a tiny quick tug on the sleeve and looked back to the suit.  A blue line appeared on left side of the suit, running from the collar to the belt.  Leo saw another line on the right side in the same spot.

The blue line flared with a slight neon glow and the front half of the chest floated free of the suit.  As it did, Leo had to shift his weight to adjust as the center of gravity changed on the entire floating assembly.  It felt like the sleeve was being tugged as the components moved. 

Then the suit came toward him with the chest piece staying in front and the suit circling around behind him.  Leo was scared by the suit trying to get behind him and twisted around to keep his position.  As he turned
, the suit stayed in position relative to him, so even though he turned, it was still moving further around behind him.  He was like a dog chasing its tail.

Leo stopped turning and looked back over his shoulder, more afraid now that some of the suit was behind him. 

It floated closer.

Unable to move, Ethan watched the horrifying scene. 
It's putting itself on him
. 

It was impossible for Ethan not to attribute hostile intentions to the suit.  He'd dug up an inactive mechanical thing from the ground, something that had been buried for years. 
Six years assuming that its impact was what finally brought the old shed down.  It lay there for six years, waiting?
  Now it circled around Leo like a tiger stalking a goat. 
What does it want?

Leo was breathing quickly, terrified by what was happening.  He watched the open collar coming around his neck as the suit floated closer.  When suit brushed against the back of his shoulders, he called "Ethan! Help me!"

Ethan could do nothing.  He realized that he'd actually been telling himself "it's ok" over and over under his breath when he'd said it loud enough that Leo heard him.  Leo just stared back.

The suit settled close against Leo's back and shoulders.  He watched as the left sleeve snapped into the suit with a dull "click" followed by a tiny
, almost inaudible musical hum.  Then nothing happened for a second, and another.  The only sound around them was Ethan breathing hard in and out like he'd just run a race.

Leo clutched his right arm tightly to his chest, preventing the suit from sealing.  He looked fearfully into the gaping upper arm of the right sleeve trying to see if there was a spike waiting. 

I won't put my arm in there. That only makes it more impossible to get it off.  There's nothing it can do to make me.

Leo looked up at Ethan. He was struggling to move now.  Leo saw one shoulder move forward in a jerk as Ethan looked down at his own body, concentrating. 

He looked up at Leo and they both heard a "click".  Leo looked down at the floating chest plate and began repeating "No, no oh, no, please, please". 

"What is it?" Ethan shouted
and again louder when Leo didn't look up.

"The whole inside is full of them!" Leo screamed. 

"Of what, Leo?  Full of what?"

"Spikes!  There are more of them inside like the one in the sleeve."  There were six long spikes on the
suit's interior.  These were longer.  Long enough to reach his heart if the suit seated close against him.  "What do I do Ethan?"

There was another click and the chest spikes retracted, leaving no seams to mark their presence in the inner surface.  "Click!" they extracted again
, then "click" retracted.

"It wants me to put my arm in the other sleeve.  I think it's trying to tell me that if I do what it wants – it won't use the spikes," Leo said.  "Do you think that's what it means, Ethan?"

"I don't know Leo," I wish I did.

The chest plate floated closer, within inches of sealing with the sides and collar.  The spikes extended again, but this time did not retract.

Leo closed his eyes and pulled his right arm up against his chest, sliding it into the sleeve.  It felt cool and damp.  As soon as his arm seated against the upper sleeve, there was a "click" and the chest plate made a soft metallic thump as it connected to the suit.  Leo watched the line marking the seam disappear with a tiny "pop" that he barely heard.

He waited.  Tensing against the stick of the spikes reaching into his chest.  If they extended now, he knew he would die. 

Tension drained slowly out of his exhausted body as he waited.  He sat down and looked at Ethan.