Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Flying
Flying
Flying
Ebook624 pages9 hours

Flying

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Chris goes asleep watching the meteor shower and falls off the roof of the Elliptic Skye building. Lilly thinks she's the only one who can fly and wants to be a superhero. Chris keeps banging himself up trying to fly. Other people, not so nice or good, also acquire the ability to fly.
Billionaire Jack Harris is kidnapped and his ex-wife fires everyone. Orville becomes a flying fighter to pay for his kids' medical expenses.
Lilly organizes the rescue of Jack Harris.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherTed Stetson
Release dateFeb 19, 2016
ISBN9781311628305
Flying
Author

Ted Stetson

Ted Stetson is a member of SFWA. He was born in Brooklyn and raised on Long Island and went to Seton Hall and Hofstra. He graduated from the University of St. Thomas, Houston, Texas. He was awarded First Place by the Florida Literary Arts Council and First Place in the Lucy B. McIntire contest of the Poetry Society of Georgia. His short fiction has appeared in Twisted Tongue, MysteryAuthors.com, Future Orbits, State Street Review, and the anthologies; One Evening a Year, Mota: Truth, Ruins Extraterrestrial Terra, Ruins Terra and Barren Worlds. His books include: Night Beasts, The Computer Song Book.

Read more from Ted Stetson

Related to Flying

Related ebooks

Fantasy For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Flying

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Flying - Ted Stetson

    Flying

    By Ted Stetson

    Published by Three Door Publishing

    Copyright © 2016 Ted Stetson

    *****

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    *****

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    *****

    Cover Art by Moi Cody

    *****

    For Gail

    *****

    Contents

    Start

    Chapter 1 – Party

    Chapter 2 – Wimp

    Chapter 3 – High

    Chapter 4 – Hard

    Chapter 5 – Wet

    Chapter 6 – Impressions

    Chapter 7 – Flying

    Chapter 8 – Hot

    Chapter 9 – Apt

    Chapter 10 – Parris

    Chapter 11 – Cowboy

    Chapter 12 – Ex-Wife

    Chapter 13 – Police

    Chapter 14 – Peso

    Chapter 15 – AKA

    Chapter 16 – Bald

    Chapter 17 – Super

    Chapter 18 – Fly or Not

    Chapter 19 – Oval

    Chapter 20 – Statement

    Chapter 21 – Invention

    Chapter 22 – Was Here

    Chapter 23 – Understanding

    Chapter 24 – Reversal Fortune

    Chapter 25 – Flyers

    Chapter 26 – Upheaval

    Chapter 27 – Cement Angels

    Chapter 28 – Treetops

    Chapter 29 – Last Chance

    Chapter 30 – Promoter

    Chapter 31 – Found

    Chapter 32 – Fight

    Chapter 33 – Bets

    Chapter 34 – Flighty

    Chapter 35 – Tapestry

    Chapter 36 – Legging It

    Chapter 37 – Visitor

    Chapter 38 – Caller

    Chapter 39 – Hakim

    Chapter 40 – Ambush

    Chapter 41 – Grace

    Chapter 42 – Storm

    Chapter 43 – Boxcar

    Chapter 44 – Run

    Chapter 45 – Hunter

    Chapter 46 – GPS

    Chapter 47 – Warehouse

    Chapter 48 – Taxi

    Chapter 49 – Walmart

    Chapter 50 – Limit

    Chapter 51 – Caught

    Chapter 52 – Hideout

    Chapter 53 – Nearby

    Chapter 54 – Limo

    Chapter 55 – Denny

    Chapter 56 – Taphone

    Chapter 57 – Skylight

    Chapter 58 – Lawyer

    Chapter 59 – Safeco

    Chapter 60 – Main Event

    Chapter 61 – Abducted

    Chapter 62 – Count

    Chapter 63 – Cheater

    Chapter 64 – Trap

    Chapter 65 – Fire

    Chapter 66 – Keeper

    Chapter 67 – ‘X’

    Chapter 68 – Dark Alleys

    Chapter 69 – Rescuers

    Chapter 70 – Cameras

    Chapter 71 – Heroes

    Chapter 72 – Hacker

    Chapter 73 – Rescue

    Chapter 74 – Wake Up

    Chapter 75 – Plummet

    Chapter 76 – Aftermath

    Chapter 77 – New Meteor

    Chapter 78 – Red

    Chapter 79 – And Then

    Other stories

    About the Author

    *****

    Flying

    *****

    Chapter 1 – End of the World Party

    The day Christian Kirby fell off the roof was not the best day of his life.

    Chris flew out of his apartment, jumped into his car and raced onto the 405. Seattle’s finest pulled him over and he wasn’t able to talk his way out of a ticket for improper lane change. By the time he reached I-90 it was a parking lot. Then his parking garage was full and he drove around until he found a parking spot by Pike Place Market and ran to work. He almost was hit crossing the busy streets racing to the chrome and glass Elliptic Skye building. Then the elevators were packed and he had to wait in line. Before he ever reached his floor he knew something was wrong. Everyone on the elevator had that tight lipped nervous look.

    What’s wrong? he asked a little guy he’d seen at company functions.

    The accountant gave him a horrified glance as if the last thing he wanted was to be singled out and shook his head and partially turned away.

    The company was in an uproar. Someone had hacked into Elliptic Sky again; the Vice President in charge of security, Larry Charles, had promised that would never happen. By eight A.M. the VP had cleaned out his desk.

    On his way to his cubicle his supervisor, Carol Riley, tore into him. Why are you always late? Me? I’m not always late. Don’t talk back to me. If this happens again, you can hand in your resignation. While she was reprimanding him other employees, stepped off the elevators, saw her and quietly flew to their desks. Carol heard them, cut off her tirade and hurried to find someone else to admonish.

    Chris and the other programmers were tasked with closing the breach. Chris had been against the system from the start, but at the end of the day he was the only one still trying to patch it.

    He sat at his cluttered desk typing furiously, entering code as fast as he could. He'd found the backdoor and had been trying to close it for hours. Every time he thought he had patched it, a new backdoor popped up, a few times with the phrase: Denny was here. He turned to ask one of his coworkers if any of them had seen this and discovered they’d all left. All the other desks were empty, all the other cubicles vacant.

    He picked up his coffee and took a sip; it was cold. He set it down spilling coffee on the printouts. I don’t have time for this now, he thought as he took a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped off the wet pages. His handkerchief became sopped and coffee dripped onto his starry blue Trump tie. He made a fist, wanting to pound his desk, but there was no room. He dropped the wet handkerchief in the trash, wiped his damp fingers on his black slacks and went back to typing.

    When the phone rang, he almost jumped. He snatched up his cellphone.

    Yeah.

    Hurry, come up, Lilly Longwell, the new receptionist, said. You're going to miss it.

    It took him a moment to come back to earth and realize what she meant. I'm almost done.

    This is a once-in-a-lifetime happening. Her voice was filled with excitement.

    Whereas my getting fired is an annual event?

    It can wait till morning. Everyone's up here.

    Just a few more keystrokes.

    Mr. Harris is here.

    God came down from his cloud?

    It's a penthouse, not a cloud.

    Not from where I sit.

    He was asking about you.

    Chris doubted the President of Elliptic Sky would ask about a lowly programmer, but maybe after the breach he had.

    The whole office is here. Guess what, Carol is schmoozing.

    He could see Carol trying to scheme her way into the V.P. slot; if she did, he’d be out of a job. Be right up.

    Hurry. Lilly sounded like a kid who can't wait for the movie to start.

    On my way.

    Chris set a subroutine to compile and backup his changes. He shoved his chair back as he stood up and rolled down his sleeves, buttoned his collar, and straightened his dark blue tie.

    When he stood, he looked around. The whole office was empty. Even the afterhours cleaning crew was not there. Most of the overhead fluorescents had been turned off, one light buzzed on and off; whole sections of the office were dark. The shadows, the blinking light and silence gave him a creepy feeling.

    The office partitions were arranged in a maze. Papers and notes hanging on the bulletin boards didn't flutter. There was no draft, no whirring in the vents. The air conditioning was on nighttime mode. Even the elevators were silent, the red arrows above the doors all pointed down. And there was no background music. No sounds of other workers talking on their phones. It was way too quiet. Chill bumps ran up his arms.

    The first time he'd stayed after hours had been strange, but it was more so now. He’d been so focused on typing code, he hadn't heard anyone leave. Had anyone said good night? Or had they just slipped out? It reminded him of that movie where everyone suddenly became a zombie.

    What was he doing in a place where people sneaked out on him? He’d had big plans, but here he was, just another ant in the anthill. When he started working, he'd told himself he was going to do something important. He didn't want to be Bill Gates or Paul Allen, but he intended to be someone of consequence. Now what was he? Desk number umpteen, on floor number umpteen.

    On the walls were posters from Elliptic Skye games. World War I Ace with biplanes dog fighting. World War 2 Ace showed a Seversky P-41 diving at ships. That was followed by Korean Ace, then Vietnam Ace. Iraq Ace had jets bombing enemy targets. In Martian Ace spaceships fought and bombed alien targets on the Martian red landscape. And the newest addition—he thought it’d be a lemon, but it was taking off—Birds. On your computer you could fly like any bird, from a Pterodactyl to an eagle through any period of time or history. Fly over the Crusades, the Civil War and change history or fly through a zombie world.

    He put on his dark blue Seahawks windbreaker as he hurried to the elevators, past awards the games had won. It was so quiet he could hear his footsteps. He’d never heard his footsteps at work before. He paused and looked around. Both elevators were on the top floor waiting to come down. He was on the seventh floor. By the time they arrived, he might miss the chance to meet the great Jack Harris.

    He stepped over to the stairwell door. It crossed his mind the gray door would be locked and he would be trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone. He shoved the handle hard and the steel door sprang open banging the gray cinderblock wall behind it. He rushed up the metal stairs, his steps echoing. The stairwell was dimly lit and smelled musty. Orange night lights on the walls gave it an eerie glow. He paused; the echo of his steps died away, and looked down, seeing only gray railings going down and down and down. No one else was in the stairwell. The twentieth floor was the top. The roof was above it.

    He was winded when he hurried through the dark red door. A sign on the door: No Admittance. Someone had taped a printed sign over the door: Abandon hope, all who enters. It was rumored that Larry Charles, the ex-VP had printed it back when he was having trysts with Carol.

    He opened the door and the cool wet Seattle air greeted him. In the east loomed Mt. Rainier, the snow covered peak glowing in the moonlight. Night lights ringed the perimeter illuminating the chrome band near the top. All around the Elliptic Sky building Seattle sparkled like a jewel.

    Pipes stuck up on the roof, broken masts on a ship. At first, he saw no one and thought it was a prank or miscommunication; the party had been canceled or moved and no one had told him. He was always left out, not told things. He was reaching for his cellphone to call Lilly when he heard Elton John singing, 'Rocket Man'. The red door faced east. He peeked around the boxy enclosure. The west side of the roof was lit with Christmas lights; green, red, and blue leds wrapped around the low safety railing.

    Over here. Orville James the bald muscular security guard directed him past the solar panels to the open west side of the roof. Orville was an ex-cop with thick shoulders and a slim waist. His wry smile greeted people at work every morning. Watch your step.

    Dozens of people were partying on the west side of the roof. Some people were dancing, a portable conference table held beer, soda, chips and dip. Fortunately, Seattle’s wind had taken the night off.

    By the refreshment table Joel Levine was holding forth on something he probably knew nothing about. Joel walked around with a weight belt under his sport coat, said it was helping him lose weight, like constant exercising, but he seemed to be gaining. His curly brown hair was thinning and receding. According to Joel a model had married him because his mother had promised to leave him a fortune when her bad heart gave out, but that was years ago. Mom was still alive and the wife was not so stylish anymore. Next to him in a yellow silk sheath dress stood Carol Riley, her dark hawkish eyes watching everyone. Nearby stood H. Raji Singh, two buttons on his white shirt open, holding a beer, trying not to look plastered. At his side was Nadia in a flowery tent dress, searching for a man, a girl, someone to go home with. Behind her glasses her dark eyes appraised Chris. She smiled, but he kept walking.

    Then he saw an angel and froze. It took him a moment to realize it was Lilly. With the lights shining through her dress sleeves she looked like an angel waving her wings. She was standing beside someone. Chris walked through the aromatic smell of Takai Matsuo’s pipe, around people talking and dancing, carefully avoided pipes coming out of the roof and over to ‘Legs’ Longwell.

    You finally got done, Lilly said as if they'd been together for some time, not like she'd just started work a few weeks ago. She was tall and slender with long blonde hair and a sweet innocence about her. She wore a light blue shirtwaist dress with see-through batwing sleeves.

    She was talking to a stocky gray-haired man wearing a dark gray suit with white pinstripes, blue shirt and a red tie. She smiled warmly at Chris as if they were more than friends.

    Chris, she moved closer to him, this is Mr. Harris.

    We've met, Chris said.

    We have? Jack Harris, five feet seven, mischievous blue eyes and a once handsome face, now aged and going soft, glanced at Chris.

    Other company functions.

    Oh! Harris ran a hand through his graying hair.

    You finished plugging that security hole? Lilly said.

    Just about.

    Harris motioned at Chris with his Guinness beer bottle as if work was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

    You need another one? Lilly smiled at him.

    Waiting for those damn meteors is thirsty business, Harris said.

    I'll get it, Lilly said. Chris, will you keep Mr. Harris company until I return?

    Lilly handed Chris a tall red plastic cup, her blue eyes saying here's your chance, don’t blow it.

    Quite a girl you've got there. Harris smiled as she walked away. Lilly seemed to sense she was being watched and turned to smile at Chris.

    Chris figured Lilly had said something.

    Yes, she is.

    Harris walked to a lawn chair and sat. Chris stepping around pipes settled in a webbed chair next to him.

    Keep away from the edge, Orville said, rushing over. No one falls on my watch.

    We heard. Harris waved him away.

    Half a dozen chairs had been tied to the deck by paracord so they wouldn’t blow off the roof. The chairs faced Puget Sound. Across the water, lights shined on Bainbridge Island. Puget Sound was filled with lighted boats. People had gathered on many other roofs for meteor-watching parties. The internet and print tabloids had headlined:

    The Sky is Falling.

    I don't have to remind you we have a company policy against employees dating.

    Chris took a drink from the red cup to give himself a moment to think and discovered Lilly was drinking rum and coke that was very light on the soda. He hadn't eaten and the liquor went straight to his head.

    Oh, we're not dating, Chris stumbled over the words, wondering what Lilly had said.

    Harris laughed. I’m just busting your balls.

    Yes sir, Mr. Harris.

    Call me Harris; only my ex-wife's lawyers call me Mister Harris.

    Yes, sir.

    Harris gave him a look.

    Chris shrugged thinking it wasn't such a good idea to meet Harris if all he did was put his foot in his mouth.

    I had presumed from what she said . . . .

    We want to, Chris improvised, the drink making his head whirl, but . . . it's against company policy, at least that’s what my supervisor said. He glanced at Carol—she was watching him closely—deciding at the last minute to keep her name out of it.

    Harris nodded understanding. Wasn't my idea. The security consultants advised us to do it, considering that was the way I met the last ex-Mrs. Harris.

    Chris grinned like he was closely following what Harris said, and he was, but he was so nervous.

    Harris gazed at Lilly at the buffet table. She's sweet on you. The breeze lifted the loose sleeves, and a light shined through the thin material, making it look like she was about to fly.

    Don't know if I would call it that exactly.

    Hell, I'd date her behind my back. Harris laughed as if he was kidding.

    That would be hard to do, Chris said, the booze giving his tongue too much freedom.

    Harris sipped his beer.

    When I was your age I had girls chasing me. I was a programmer for the city, a different city, and the data clerks liked me. Problem was, my boss acted like they were all in his pride. Harris waved away the past and looked at him. Oh, yes, I'd date her in a heartbeat.

    How would you keep it from your boss?

    Deny, deny, deny. Harris waved his beer bottle.

    She's much too nice to lie about.

    Harris gazed at him as if he had a lot to learn.

    Chris took another sip. Lilly's strong drink hit his empty stomach hard. His head was starting to spin. The lights on another roof blinked. Was someone sending an S-O-S?

    I plugged that hole, Chris said to have something to say.

    Hole?

    That security hole.

    Oh, that. Harris acted like that was yesterday's news.

    A breeze gusted and the wind was cool and refreshing. One of the nearby lawn chairs moved in the breeze. A white feather was blown along the roof and over the edge.

    As he was changing tunes the D.J. said, People in Canada and France are spending the night in caves. But not to worry. The meteors aren’t big. Life as we know it will continue ad infinitum.

    Chris glanced at Harris, their eyes met. He feared the D.J. was putting the mouth on it, that something was about to happen, maybe not the destruction of the planet, but something cataclysmic. He saw the expression on Harris’s face, he shared the same apprehension.

    The D.J. went on to say that across the country many people huddled inside structures. Some in fallout shelters built decades ago. Subway tunnels were crowded with survivalists.

    Lilly returned with two bottles of beer. Why so glum?

    Chris shook his head and Harris said, All these prognosticators.

    She handed a bottle of beer to Chris and one to Harris. She took her red cup back.

    I drank some.

    I'm immune.

    You want my seat?

    I'm fine right here. She stood next to him, her hand on his shoulder, keeping him between her and Harris and gazed into the distance, her blonde hair feathering in the breeze.

    More people flocked up onto the roof to join the party. The music on the radio paused and the DJ promised to inform listeners when the meteors arrived. Don't worry, my little fireflies, all will be well in Gotham tonight.

    Where is that damn meteor shower? Harris said.

    Lilly looked at her wristwatch. The news said any minute.

    You know, our solar plane, Chris explained, the orbits of all the planets, is almost at a right angle to the galactic plane.

    What does that mean?

    If our solar plane was in the galactic plane, scientists say we wouldn't have so many meteors or comets. They would pass us by.

    Ice comets brought water and meteors destroyed the dinosaurs, Harris added. The good with the bad.

    Chris glanced back at the refreshment table. And the ugly.

    Harris chuckled and clinked his bottle against Chris’s.

    Do you think it will harm us? Lilly said.

    Harris waved away her concerns. Chris noticed a crucifix ring on one hand and a Star of David ring on the other. Guess he was making sure he was covered.

    Supposed to be from deep space, Chris said.

    Do you think anything will happen?

    Harris gave them a look like they were making too much of it. Just another hunk of iron and ice.

    Orville came over to check on Mr. Harris.

    Anyone fall off the roof? Harris asked.

    Not on my watch, Orville said.

    Harris nodded.

    Look! Orville pointed and everyone turned to look up at the moon.

    The bright moon shined in the black sky. Suddenly, a green puff blossomed on its surface.

    A meteor must've hit the moon, Orville said. The green puff expanded into a cloud and spread across the surface, turning the moon pale green as it spread. Several people oohed and aahed.

    That must’ve been big, Chris said.

    No atmosphere on the moon, Orville said.

    Green moon at night, sailor's delight, Harris said.

    Red moon at morning, sailor take warning, Chris said.

    You're making that up, Lilly said.

    Harris smiled at Chris. To story tellers, Harris said and they clinked bottles again.

    One drink later the radio announcer said, Okay, my little fireflies, look to the north.

    Everyone stopped talking and dancing and turned; the roof grew quiet, only the sound of the wind breaking the stillness. Stars dotted the black sky. In the north a solitary white line streaked across the blackness. As it fell lower in the atmosphere, it grew more incandescent and glowed brightly. The lower it went, the brighter it burned and soon they could see the glow was greenish. It streaked downward, one lone green sparkler in the night sky.

    Will you look at that, Harris said.

    Are they supposed to turn green? Lilly said.

    I don't think so. Takai Matsuo had wandered over with Carol, her perfume an invisible shield around her. The more nervous Takai was the more he puffed on his pipe.

    Harris waved away the smell of Carol’s perfume.

    Give us some room here. Lilly motioned him to get rid of the pipe, but Matsuo shook his head.

    Carol looked stricken. Matsuo continued to suck his pipe as he moved away guiding Carol by her elbow. She reluctantly followed in his wake, but not before giving Chris a dirty look.

    Lilly looked at Carol’s lipstick and winked at Chris; he recalled she’d called it blood-sucker red, and grinned.

    Harris shook his head. Never heard of them turning green before. He glanced at Chris and Chris shrugged, he didn’t know what to make of it either.

    Orville said, Hey look, and another meteor streaked into sight, then another and another, then dozens of meteors streamed across the sky.

    ***

    New York:

    Times Square was filled with people. At midnight the lights on many skyscrapers had been turned off so that everyone could see the sky. People shouted and applauded when the first meteors came into views. Then as each meteor exploded like a Fourth of July firework they gasped and some people became frightened and hurried down into the subways.

    ***

    South Atlantic:

    Location: Classified.

    Admiral Kelly stood on the bridge of his flagship and looked at the radar signatures of the fleet around him, many ships riding low in the water. The submarines had dived when the first meteor crossed the sky. They were not far from the Falkland Islands, but that was not their destination. Winter was approaching in the South Atlantic, but his top secret destination, if everything went to hell, was the South Pole. If everything didn’t, the President handed him a long list of potential mission objectives. If this doesn’t happen, do this. If this happens, proceed with caution to these coordinates. Officially they were heading for the Mediterranean, but that was just for the nosy press. So far he didn’t know where their destination heading or what they might be expected to do.

    First sighting, one of the crewmen standing outside looking through a telescope said.

    Admiral Kelly lifted off his cap and ran a hand over his bald head.

    Gentlemen, Admiral Kelly said. There is no shame in being afraid, every real man is afraid, stay true to your course and we’ll get through this.

    ***

    England:

    The royal family rose early at Buckingham Palace and waited outside while servants served breakfast. As the eastern horizon started to lighten they turned north to look at the meteors streaming across the sky. Several members of the royal family were not in residence, but at country estates that were more easily defended.

    The grounds of King’s College London were full of students and professors standing about, looking at the sky watching the meteors descend into the atmosphere. When the white incandescent trails changed to green they put forth theories of possible reasons and outcomes from the sublime to the silly to the ridiculous.

    Aren’t they supposed to be red or white? a young lad asked.

    A professor removed a pipe from his mouth long enough to say, White, I believe.

    Why is it green?

    Must be some unknown metal.

    Something from deep space.

    Something strange this way comes.

    Where’s Isaac Newton when you need him? someone quipped. A few laughed nervously, while others quietly prayed.

    ***

    France:

    The streets of Paris were filled as if they were celebrating the end of World War II, but no one was celebrating. Oh, a few were drinking, but in the large crowd they were the exception. The grounds of the Louvre were packed above capacity, but no one was inside the famous museum; everyone was outside, talking quietly, looking upward. Des Champs-Elysées was wall to wall people, no cars or buses moved. The Arc de Triomphe was packed like a rock concert. The Eiffel Tower held the maximum number of occupants, most armed with telescopes and cameras. On cue all the lights in the City of Lights were turned off and the crowd quieted as if in Cathédrale Notre-Dame and turned skyward as dozens of meteors became hundreds.

    ***

    Italy:

    St. Peter’s Square in Vatican City was packed with pilgrims as were all the nearby streets. Pilgrims knelt and prayed most of the night. During the long night Cardinals had taken turns at the window of the Apostolic Palace leading the vigil, but now that sunrise was imminent the Pope stepped outside, spread his hands and prayed for God’s protection and blessing.

    An aide whispered in the Pope’s ear. When His Holiness turned skyward everyone turned. Hundreds of greenish meteors were streaking down out of the blue dawn. The lower they descended the brighter they burned and when they became very bright they exploded—like in a fireworks show—in bright green starbursts. Such explosions were usually followed by a loud sound and the crowd recoiled, but the meteors were so high up no sound reached the earth. Instead, each starburst became thousands of green streaking meteor fragments streaking every which way.

    Some of the crowd shouted, a few gasped and a few of the faithful fainted. Medical personnel rushed through the crowd to help those who had fainted or worse.

    ***

    Israel:

    It was after 7:00 A.M in Jerusalem, but you would hardly know it. There was no morning hustle and bustle. The military was on full alert, but there were no terrorist threats. Instead, everyone was watching the blue sky. The meteors had exploded into thousand of bright green sparklers racing in all directions across the heavens.

    The radio newscasters were calling it 'strange', and people watched with apprehension as more glowing green meteors streamed down and exploded, the sparklers falling everywhere. The newscasters said, there was no cause for concern, they were small and wouldn't really hit the earth.

    ***

    Saudi Arabia:

    9:00 A.M., Mecca, the Sacred Mosque packed to overflowing. Everyone was kneeling and praying. The streets filled with pilgrims. Those faithful who had not performed the Hajj pilgrimage before, hurried to do so before the meteors came.

    Suddenly, someone shouted.

    People pointed skyward.

    Even though the morning sky was bright blue, the greenish glow of the meteors could be seen. Then when the meteors exploded people screamed. The sparklers came down like a giant fireworks show and when they exploded again and again many people ran for cover.

    ***

    Australia:

    Sydney was a ghost town. After 4 P.M. there were people about, but no one was doing anything. Everyone in the cities and the Outback looked skyward. Dozens of people huddled near the base of Ayres Rock —Uluru—as if that would protect them. The TV stations had been broadcasting again and again, ‘On the Beach’, adapted from Nevil Shute’s novel where spreading deadly radiation kills the world. Not everyone was as stoic as Gregory Peck. Many panicked in fear of the unknown in different ways. Some went to the Outback fearful of a Mad Max type catastrophe. Others went to the beach. Most stayed at home with the family.

    In the last few weeks black market trafficking in pistols and rifles had exploded. Ranchers in the Outback were doing everything they could to keep trespassers off their land. Chaos and anarchy lurked just one ill-timed incident away.

    After the meteors exploded, few remained outside. Those who did watched the sparkling flares curling this way and that.

    Maybe the gobsmack will lob in top end.

    Only a drongo would think that. This is the dinky-di.

    Stuffed I’ll be, which way is safe?

    Dunno, but I’m bailin’, takin’ my barbie to the beach.

    Ace! I’ll bring the Fosters.

    ***

    South Pacific:

    Exact location: Classified.

    Sunset, the Seventh Fleet cruised the calm ocean, every ship so overloaded they sat low in the water. Every inch of space was crammed with: guns, ammo, food, seeds, plants, shovels, and medicine—everything needed to rebuild or supply a world that might be devastated by disaster.

    Per orders, Admiral McNamara maintained communication with the fleets in the Indian Ocean, the Mediterranean, the Red Sea, the Antarctic, and the Atlantic, but not with Washington. No one in Washington, especially the politicians and reporters, could be trusted to keep their mouth shut.

    When the meteors were spotted, word spread and the Admiral allowed most of the surface crews to come on deck and see for themselves. Then he ordered all submarines attached to his fleet and all the other fleets to dive to the depths of the ocean.

    The Secretary of the Navy turned to Admiral McNamara and said, Well, here we go.

    The Admiral glanced at a nearby Marine; his eyes silently saying if the Secretary speaks again throw him in the brig.

    The thick Marine nodded once.

    ***

    In Seattle Jack Harris turned to Chris and smiled. Front row view.

    Of what?

    Harris twisted about to take a good look at Chris; he hoped he wasn’t one of those naysayers who predicted dire circumstances. It’s just a meteor shower.

    I hope you’re right.

    The display went from a few dozen meteors to a few hundred.

    Wow, Orville said.

    Elegantly said, Harris commented. My sentiments exactly.

    Chris looked at Orville and the security guard motioned him to smile, not turn it into a big deal. Chris shrugged and hoped he was right.

    Then the hundreds of meteors burst apart becoming thousands of green sparklers.

    On the roof people oohed and aahed, pointing at how some of the meteors curled, veered off a straight course.

    They’re entering the atmosphere, Takai Matsuo said. It’s causing them to change direction.

    As long as it’s not alien ships, Chris said under his breath.

    Lilly had put her hand on his shoulder and now dug her fingers dug into it. Okay, he would keep his mouth shut.

    Then as the meteors descended, they split or burst apart again.

    People on the roof gasped and some started to make their way off the roof.

    Then as the meteors descended even lower they blew up into a million fragments. Not a sound was heard. There was no boom; the sky was eerie silent as bright green dust floated down.

    There goes that invasion, Orville said.

    Amen to that, Harris added and drained the last of his Guinness.

    Chris breathed out; he hadn’t been aware that he’d been holding his breath.

    Now people on other roofs cheered. People in the Vatican City turned to the Pope, and an aide told him to raise his hands and bless the crowd. The Pope did so and people cheered as if the Pope had destroyed the meteors, the aliens, whatever the hell it was. On his flagship Admiral McNamara gave the order for everyone to return to their station. The Secretary of the Navy said, I’m glad that’s over with. And the Admiral looked at him. He wanted to say ‘Who the hell said it was over?’, but being an Admiral required letting the assholes say what they want and remembering what they said and when.

    Jack Harris and his employees watched the meteors break up and the sky fill with glowing green dust—like a strange Aurora Borealis—and the dust raining down. In London the dust turned the sunrise green. In Jerusalem people crowded against the Wailing Wall as if that would protect them.

    And a few more Elliptic Sky employees decided to get off the roof.

    Then as the remaining spectators continued to look skyward, newscasters reported that none of the meteors had actually hit the earth.

    Carol cheered, then realized only she was cheering and put her hand over her mouth.

    Matsuo had his laptop logged onto CNN and the display showed green meteors exploding all over the world. Everywhere scientists told everyone they had nothing to worry about, that similar things had happened to Earth many times. As long as there were no direct hits, life would go on as before.

    Life would go on as before, echoed from Orville’s radio and Matsuo’s TVs.

    Were any of those ancient meteors were green? Lilly said.

    Orville said, Maybe that's how life started on earth.

    Must be some metal, Harris said.

    I always associate green with life, Orville said. Plants, algae or bacteria.

    You think we're being invaded? Harris said.

    No way, Orville said. I work in security and I can tell you, it wouldn't happen like this.

    I hope you’re right, Harris said.

    Chris turned. I read an article where a scientist said that man was just an ape until a meteor brought a virus to earth that caused a mutation in his DNA, which made him smarter.

    I read that comic, too. Orville grinned.

    Just what I need, Harris said, my ex-wife getting smarter, hiring smarter lawyers, the current Mrs. Harris figuring a way around the prenup. He shook his head.

    Life is full of surprises, Orville said, his face taking on a sad bitterness as he thought of his own circumstances.

    Thinking about alien invasions works up a thirst. Harris motioned to Lilly that he needed another beer.

    She gave him a look. She wasn't a barmaid, but he was the boss and she was new to the company. She turned to Chris, but he was staring up at the sky as if something was about to happen. The expression on his face worried her.

    She handed Chris her tall red cup of rum and walked to the refreshment table. He took a stiff drink. Watching the world not end was thirsty work. The booze hit him hard. The long day and not eating was catching up to him. Everything was catching up to him.

    Chris smiled and fought the liquor in his system as best he could, until one moment he was listening and the next he was sleeping. At first he was barely asleep and could hear them talking. He heard Lilly worrying about him and Harris said let him sleep, he was the only one who had done any work that day and deserved to rest. And by the way did she need a lift home? Then Chris fell into a deep sleep and came partway out of it briefly to hear Lilly worrying about leaving him on the roof—did she tenderly touch his hair or was that the wind? Harris said Orville would keep an eye on him and Orville, in a less than thrilled tone said, Right. Then the sound of footsteps walking away and the roof became very quiet.

    Chris dreamed about submicroscopic alien bacteria raining down on the world, burrowing into everyone, becoming part of their DNA, and their DNA changing, but not changing as everyone expected. Changing them into . . . .

    ***

    Chris woke suddenly. One moment he was sound asleep and the next he was awake. Awake with a splitting headache. He put his cool hands on his forehead and moaned. He shouldn't drink on an empty stomach. He had dreamed, but he couldn't remember it. He thought there had been something about alien bacteria changing everyone into . . . monsters. Why does it have to change us into monsters? We're monsters just the way we are. He looked about and saw everything covered with green dust. Then the migraine hit and he squeezed his eyes closed and grimaced.

    He stumbled out of the lawn chair. For a minute, he didn't know where he was. He saw the six lawn chairs in a row, the cleared refreshment table. He didn’t see any green dust. For a moment he thought he was at someone’s patio party, then he saw he was on a roof—a roof?—and then the pounding behind his eyes made it hurt to see and everything went blurry. He saw stars, the skyline, lights on distant buildings, but it didn't make any sense. The headache walloped him like a sledgehammer and he put his hands over his eyes and staggered about. It was so painful he could not see where he was stepping. He bumped into a chair.

    I'm coming, a voice said sounding like it came from the other side of the roof. He recognized the voice as Orville's and looked in that direction. At that moment, Orville shined his led flashlight at him. The bright beam hit his eyes like an exploding sun.

    He staggered back, away from the light, knocked into a lawn chair, and stumbled back another step. His feet snagged on something—paracord—and he tripped, lurched backward and then something hit the back of his legs and he wobbled backward, his arms windmilling. As he fell, he glanced at what he'd hit, it was the safety railing, and then he was over the edge going down. And down.

    At first he thought so I’m falling and wasn't alarmed, didn't cry out. Then his mind kicked into high speed—a scream echoed from his soul; OFF THE ROOF!—and he saw he was falling past the lights in the chrome rim of the roof. He flipped over, and now saw the little lights in the parking lot below coming up at him very, very fast.

    It shot through his mind that he'd fallen off the roof and he tried to scream, but the rushing air took his breath away. He tried to think of something to do. Couldn't. Tried to think of a way to stop falling and . . . and couldn't. Willed himself to . . . to stop falling.

    And . . . .

    *****

    Chapter 2 – Wimp or Not

    John Lewis Harris, Jack to his friends, raced his red Jaguar up the long curved driveway. He stomped the brake pedal and the Jaguar came to a sliding screeching stop in front of what he called Tara West. Or when he was in a bitter mood; Gone with the Money. He climbed out and gazed at the mansion his money had bought. Beige stone exterior and dark green fish-scale tile roof with green trim — God, he hated green — and tall red brick chimneys.

    If only his father could see him now. They had lived in trailer parks in Dallas and Fort Worth, in Galveston and Houston, among other places. His mother had left when she realized Jack Senior couldn't give her the lifestyle she desperately wanted. He'd only seen her a few times since then. Once she came up to him at a programmer’s convention, wanted him to carry her purse and guide her around, introduce her to all the millionaires. He walked out and swore never again would he let her come between him and his chance to make something of himself. She'd tried to reconnect when he first made it big, but he’d have nothing to do with her. That was followed by requests from her lawyer of the month for money. The last time she came to see him, she was in a wheelchair. He threw her out. A few minutes later, he looked down at her abandon the wheelchair, she'd walked away. He went to tell Dad, but the old man still missed her and he lied, said that she’d asked about him. That was when he was putting every dime back into the company, before his first wife miscarried and died.

    Dad didn’t live to see his success. It’d taken too long, been too hard. If only Dad could have seen this. If only he could have shared it with him. If only he wasn't so alone.

    He took the heavy bottle of Dry Fly from the passenger seat, finished it and tossed it into the fountain with the statue of an angel. The changing lights in the fountain turned the angel green.

    The hunter returns from the forest with the spoils of the hunt, he announced with a wave of his hand. Make ready the feast.

    He walked to the massive oak door and let himself in. He turned off the security panel, stepped past the small elevator in the white marble foyer and looked around. The spacious foyer, decorated like he was a descendent of royalty, was empty. No kids, no servants, no loving wife. No dog since Emily was allergic. He might as well be single, he was so alone. It's against human nature for a man as rich and virile as me to be alone, he said to the quiet house. Not even an echo.

    He hiked up the winding marble stairs singing, The Long and Winding Stairs. He liked Lilly, wished he’d met someone like her five years ago. He glanced in a mirror at the square chin going soft, the distinguished graying hair, and the rugged face getting old. If he wasn't careful, he'd need another facelift.

    Well, okay, make that ten years ago. If he'd met her ten years ago and had taken her out in public, maybe people wouldn't think she was his daughter. He wouldn't have felt so old next to her. He'd feel young, walk younger, act younger.

    He walked into the luxurious master bedroom. The California king was an island on the blue carpet. Wearing a red sleeping mask Emily slept under the champagne silk sheet snoring like a trucker. She resembled the beast from Atlantis with large purple rollers curling her ice blonde hair and yellow 'Youth Renew' cream covering her face.

    He tossed his dark gray suit coat on a chair and was about to sit on the edge of the bed and undress when he saw the balcony window was open. He stepped over to close it and noticed the outside lights were on again as if he owned the electric company. It was one thing to be rich and another to throw hard earned money away. He sighed. First there had been extravagant Kate — now his ex-wife, the always-suing Kate — and now he had spendthrift Emily.

    He frowned sadly. Where did he find these women? It was like his mother was the matchmaker. He could hear her laughing; I told you I’d be back.

    It looked nice outside. He stepped onto the small balcony and breathed in the gentle breeze, then gazed down at the pool. The clear blue water was inviting. It was probably too cool. The one change the Chairwoman of the Conserve Energy Committee had chosen to show she was conserving energy was by not heating the pool.

    This end of the large kidney-shaped pool was close to the house. The other end lay by the white and green cabana. Emily had had a contractor build a hot tub close to the cabana. It’d cost more than his father made in a year and she had used it only once.

    Once.

    He stared at the small pool with the white tile steps and the cement bench.

    ONCE! He still wanted to scream about it.

    When he’d complained, she’d echoed her shrink saying he was overreacting, needed professional counseling. Trying for an end run around the prenup. Harriet, Dr. Fredrick Patrick's secretary, kept him informed for a fee.

    He gazed at the clear blue water. At her last party, one of Emily's drunken guests had climbed onto this balcony and tried to jump into the pool. She'd called the men wimps when they pulled her down. He hadn't wanted to call the police. That would be just another item for Emily to add to her psychiatrist’s list; he was so crazy he let people jump from the balcony.

    He heaved a sigh. When had life turned into a convoluted game? He’d become rich by taking chances selling computer games. Now the only chance he took was what tie he wore. The only game he played was outwitting his wife. Even his cars were a joke. The last bastion of manhood, his car, but Emily had wanted him to get a sedan so

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1