Fly Another Day

by Adam Graham

  Captain France ran to him and crouched. Sweat soaked his face. “Mon ami, zey are closing in. We must get in. How do you open zis thing?”

  “I invented a most ingenious device.” Powerhouse reached into his costume’s hidden pocket, pulled out a key fob, and pressed the button.

  The Firebug honked its horn and unlocked both doors.

  “Brilliant.” Captain France rolled his eyes.

  A bullet landed an inch short of Captain France.

  He and Powerhouse jumped into the Firebug and closed the doors.

  Outside, Robolawyers fired bullets, shot energy beams, and slammed their metal bulk on the Firebug.

  Powerhouse shifted into drive.

  Captain France panted. “Shields holding steady at a hundred percent.”

  A half dozen Robolawyers crashed against the machine, shaking it.

  McCall looked up, eyes wide. “You sure this thing will stay together?”

  “Positive.” Powerhouse dusted off his costume, puffing out his chest.

  Several energy beams hit the Firebug in unison.

  Captain France inhaled sharply. “Ninety-five percent.”

  Another blast hit the Firebug.

  “Ninety percent.”

  Uh-oh. Powerhouse spun the driver’s wheel and turned the Firebug. It raced across the field away from the Robolawyers pursuing in his rearview mirror. “It’s going at top speed at 35 miles an hour. I could crawl faster.”

  Another volley hit the ship.

  The Pharaoh cackled over the Robolawyers’ loud speaker. “Ah, Powerhouse. This is a battle I’ll win. You could beat any one of these robots alone, but not hundreds of them. Quantity can beat quality. Every Robolawyer in the city is in here.”

  Where was Zolgron? Powerhouse glanced at the overhead videoscreen.

  The same alien symbol as before flashed on the screen.

  The Robolawyers froze.

  Powerhouse glided the Firebug across the playing field toward the other side of the stadium.

  A pudgy, bald TV lawyer appeared on the videoscreen in a 1960s courtroom. “Your honor, with the court’s indulgence, I’d like to ask the witness to cluck like a chicken and hop on foot while singing ‘Old Man River.’”

  The prosecutor stood. “Objection, your honor. This is irrelevant, undignified, and just another one of Mr. Stoneworker’s theatrics.”

  “I’ll show relevancy if the court will indulge me,” Stoneworker said.

  The judge adjusted his glasses and held his hands together. “To allow this would go against every legal precedent on this planet for the past five thousand years. However, I will allow it for you. Proceed, Mr. Stoneworker.”

  The head of the Robolawyer nearest to them spun around and flew off into outer space. It fell apart in a heap.

  McCall chuckled. “I react the same way when I see those dramas.”

  Another scene began to play on the videoscreen.

  Captain France trembled. “We must get out before zey explode.”

  “Look!” McCall pointed. “There’s a man over there.”

  Powerhouse peered out the window.

  Across the stadium, a dark-haired man in a green polo shirt and a pair of shorts was taking pictures.

  Ugh, photographers. “Captain France, get the Firebug out of here. I’ll get our shutterbug away.”

  “But mon ami—”

  “I’m the only one who can reach him. Get McCall to safety.” Powerhouse jumped out of the Firebug and dashed across the stadium.

  Another Robolawyer exploded in front of him.

  Chapter 12

  The Triumph of Powerhouse

  Powerhouse raced across the stadium.

  On the videoscreen, a gray-haired lawyer with a southern accent asked a beautiful, long-haired blonde, “Do you like chatelaines?”

  A female prosecutor said, “Objection, relevancy.”

  “Your honor, I’ll make everything clear, if y’all will let me finish my questioning.”

  “This better be good, Mr. Ruglock. Proceed.”

  Powerhouse grabbed the photographer and ran across the field. Across the stadium, the Robolawyers exploded. Powerhouse ran down the player’s tunnel through the locker room and out of the stadium.

  Explosions continued to rock the stadium. Shrapnel flew around him. Powerhouse kept running until he was several blocks away. He stopped in the parking lot of a book store. Captain France pulled the Firebug in front of him and parked.

  The photographer trembled.

  Powerhouse put him down. “What were you doing in there?”

  “Getting pictures. What else?” The photographer beamed and pointed at his chest as it puffed out. “Nobody got stills like I did.”

  “What part of public safety hazard didn’t you understand?”

  “I heard, ‘Pulitzer Prize.’ Besides, I knew you’d rescue me.”

  Somebody always tries to take advantage of superheroes, I guess.

  Chief Bachmann marched up to Powerhouse. “Good job. Definitely did a lot less damage than the Navy drones would have, but old Century Link Field’s not going to be the same without a bond issue for repairs.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Powerhouse flew over the stadium and imagined the stadium as it was before the Robolawyers had moved in.

  All the damage disappeared.

  He flew back to the chief. “It’s as good as new.”

  The chief whistled. “You’re amazing. How did those videos defeat the robots?”

  Powerhouse snickered. “An alien symbol flashed on the screen and put them back into legal analysis mode. We realized, if we could show something totally absurd with no basis in reality, it would fry their logic circuits.”

  “And what could be more unrealistic than American legal dramas? I got you.”

  Captain France and Brent McCall emerged from the Firebug.

  Powerhouse glanced over the bruised McCall. “You still want to be my lawyer?”

  McCall dusted off his suit. “Of course. I haven’t had such an interesting day in years. I’ve got a few things to tend to at the office, but you be sure and fix anything that might present liability issues.”

  “Will do.” Powerhouse nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a fireworks warehouse to reconstitute.”

  Captain France stretched. “Mon ami, it was a grand adventure, but it did interrupt our conversation. What is it we were talking about?”

  “An idea for a joint adventure for the comic books.”

  “Right. What shall we do?”

  Um, duh. Powerhouse laughed. “That’s worked itself out.”

  Captain France scratched his head. He chuckled. “Oh but of course.”

  The chief slapped Captain France’s shoulder. “Good work, Batman.”

  “Batman?” Captain France pointed at the emblem on his chest. “I’m Captain France. Zis is a tricolor flag, not a bat.”

  Powerhouse super-imagined the symbol blue, white, and red.

  The chief smiled. “Yeah, I see it now.”

  Captain France slapped Powerhouse on the back. “Mon ami, you have my gratitude.”

  Major Speed wanted to applaud. Wow! The Pharaoh never told me there were heroes like that. Major Speed smiled. That Powerhouse had old Ace’s style.

  Karen stood at the edge of his bed, shaking. She swallowed. “Okay, I’m really scared. I know you’re immobile, but you’re not going to like what I have to say. I’ll take care of you, but I’m not going to watch all that garbage on your TV list.” She wiped her brow. “I’m a person, too, aren’t I? I shouldn’t have to watch that junk. I sinned by doing that. I had to sin in order to follow the rules, but I’d rather follow God’s rules.”

  Thank you, Lord, for this precious lady.

  She took a step back and blinked. “Look, I’m sorry if it’s intolerant, but we’re going to watch stuff that’s not trashy. Maybe it’ll help you get better.”

  What had the world come to that a woman had to apologize for not wanting to watch di
rty and violent movies?

  She changed the channel. “This is more like it.”

  On the screen came a black white picture of a ditzy blonde.

  Gracie Allen! I never thought I’d be so glad to see you.

  Mitch Farrow sank lower in his office chair. Over his Bluetooth ear piece, Dr. Fournier’s number rang and rang.

  The line finally clicked. “Dr. Fournier is not available right now. Please leave your name and number. Beep.”

  The Pharaoh rolled his eyes. “Einstein was an idiot.”

  “Now see here!” Dr. Fournier laughed. “Just a little joke, sir.”

  “The joke is the programming job you did on those Robolawyers. We spent millions on them, we are going to have to pay out millions more in damages, and we didn’t get Powerhouse.”

  “I guess I should’ve dug deeper into their programming for weaknesses, but you wanted to defeat Powerhouse right away. Haste makes waste.”

  “Spare me. I want better plans for next time. Get to work on it.”

  The intercom buzzed. “Mr. Farrow, your ex-wife is here to see you.”

  Just what he needed. “I’m in a conference. Tell her to go away.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A thunk and a grunt trickled in from the outer office.

  The door swung open and Rachel walked in. “I must thank you once again for those Judo lessons. They come in handy.”

  “Your honor, I’ll have to call you back.” Mitch hung up on Dr. Fournier and glowered at Rachel. “You’ve got your alimony and your child support. What else do you want?”

  “For you to remember you have a daughter who needs you.”

  Mitch wiped his brow. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her.”

  “Time to do more than thinking, Pharaoh.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know you’re the Pharaoh.”

  Mitch swallowed. She couldn’t know. “What gave you that loony idea?”

  “It’s glaringly obvious to anyone who knows you.” She pursed her lips. “‘Nobody gets out of here without singing the blues.’ Dearie, that’s from your favorite movie.”

  “But lots of men love Adventures in Babysitting.” Okay, that was lame. He stared at her. She just suspected. “Look, babe, you’re not going to get more money out of me by trying to blackmail me. You want to go to the cops and tell them I must be the Pharaoh because I like Adventures in Babysitting, too, knock yourself out. If you’d go that crazy, I don’t think you’d be fit to have custody, though, and I got lawyers who can see to it.”

  “I’m not here to threaten you.”

  “Good. If I were the Pharaoh, I wouldn’t be the ultimate boss. There’d be people over me who wouldn’t care for your suspicions and might take action even if I didn’t want to—and our daughter needs you.”

  Tears streamed down her cheek. “What’s happened to us? I can’t believe you’re threatening my life.”

  Woman, I’m trying to scare you off to save your life. Mitch swallowed. “I’m just pointing out an implication of your belief.”

  “Mitch, regardless, I’ve been reading up on Dorado Incorporated. This isn’t you, dearie. Everything this company does is wicked and sinful.”

  “Ah, there’s that hateful, old-fashioned word.” Sneering, Mitch imitated his grandma’s voice. “‘Sin will take you farther than you want to go, keep you longer than you want to stay, and cost you more than you want to pay.” He laughed and stared into Rachel’s wide eyes. “What you call sin is the only way to make a difference in this world. I will change this world, and there’s no sin I won’t commit to do that.”

  She backed out, paling even worse than usual. She swallowed. “Very well, Mitch. I love you, honey.”

  Rachel ran out, weeping.

  Mitch resisted the urge to go after her. He had a job to do.

  He was allowed his choice of diversions. He walked out of his office. His blonde secretary lay slumped on her desk. Mitch slapped her awake.

  “Ouch.” She rubbed her head. “As frail as your ex looks, she packs a wallop.”

  That was his Rachel. Mitch half-smiled. “She’ll surprise you. Get some ice on that and then cancel the rest of my appointments.”

  “If anyone asks, what do I tell them?”

  “Tell them the truth. I’m busy getting stone drunk.” Mitch stomped back into his office and slammed the door.

  Dave sat in the living room recliner, reading Grandpa’s manuscript.

  Naomi sat cross-legged on the couch with the newspaper. She looked up. “It’s too bad you can’t hang that citation the mayor gave you on the wall.”

  Yeah. Dave sighed. “That’d be bye-bye, secret identity.”

  Zolgron came in from the kitchen’s direction. In one hand he carried a glass of milk. In the other he held a bowl of homemade sweet potato chips.

  “It’s not fair.” Naomi glanced up at Zolgron. “You deserved a citation too.”

  “I asked for my involvement not to be disclosed to anyone.” Zolgron swallowed. “I caused the problem by introducing the Robolawyers to your world. Your planet was not ready for such powerful technology. You need to learn the ways of peace before you can enjoy the greatest of technologies.”

  “How did your planet learn to live in peace?”

  Zolgron grimaced. “An apocalyptic civil war killed three fourths of our people.”

  Wow. Dave whistled. “You know, maybe the world could make do without Robolawyers. Though, we’d like to keep ours.”

  “You can.” Zolgron shot a glance at Naomi. “Just don’t watch Ruglock reruns around it. It took me two hours to debug it.”

  “Sorry.” Naomi flinched. “I’ll keep him in the basement when not in use.” She smiled. “Say, did you just admit you were wrong? Does that mean I was right?”

  Zolgron grunted. “The prime directive was right. I was—I was wrong. I’m sorry. I sometimes treat you in a condescending matter merely because I have superior intelligence, wisdom, and knowledge. I should’ve taken your concern to heart.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  Would they let him read already? “Shh, I’m almost to the end.”

  “Okay, though I must say I’m impressed, dear. You’ve never willingly read a book without pictures like this.”

  Crown glowing, Dave reached the end. And so Major Speed departed from my garage for the warehouse in Seattle and was never heard from again. The End.

  “What?” Dave gaped. “Grandpa, you can’t end it there!” He glanced up at his wife and Zolgron. “He just had Major Speed disappear at a warehouse in 1957 and said he was never seen again.”

  Zolgron smirked. “That will never do with the summer movie crowd.”

  Dave shut the manuscript’s folder. “Zolgron, want to check out the warehouse with me?”

  “So long as I’m back by three to put in my soufflé.”

  Figured.

  “You see anything?” Powerhouse asked Zolgron as they stood in a dark warehouse full of crates.

  “Burn marks.” Zolgron pointed at the walls.

  Powerhouse peered at the brown stains on the dusty floor. “Looks like blood.”

  “I’ve got it.” Zolgron scraped a sample of it up. A little black machine of some sort popped into existence. He put the sample in a tiny, oven-like door. “Yes, it’s human blood.”

  “Is this from fifty years ago?”

  “No, this architecture looks like mid-1990s, so it’s been rebuilt. Any evidence of what happened to Major Speed here has been long destroyed, but something did occur here fairly recently.”

  “Weird.”

  Zolgron scanned the building. “Something even weirder. X-ray those crates.”

  Powerhouse examined them with his X-ray vision. “They’re all empty.”

  Zolgron ran to the corner and pulled a piece of paper off a crate. “Odd. According to this, Dorado Incorporated paid for a cargo of empty crates.”

  “What?”

  “It looks lik
e Dorado rebuilt this warehouse, likely due to code issues, kept it full of nothing, and has maintained it that way for over fifteen years.”

  Odd. Powerhouse blinked. “Combined that with that blood, and something illegal definitely happened here.” He clenched his jaw. “We’re going to find out what.”

  Powerhouse will return with Miss Invisible and Marcos Silvano in Powerhouse: Hard Pressed. Also featured: Boomerang Bloke, the Silver Medal, the Warlord Varlock, the Sheriff of Atlantis, and Mister Manners.

  About the Authors

  Mild-Mannered Goofball and recovering journalist Adam Graham is a strange visitor to Earth whose ancestors hailed from Scotland and Ireland. With his amazing powers of wit and poignancy, he writes science fiction stories appearing in Residential Aliens, Light at the Edge of Darkness, and in the Laser & Sword e-zine, and he writes a political column that appears on pjmedia.com. With his astonishing ability to pack twenty six hours into twenty four, he is the host of the Truth and Hope Report podcast, the Old Time Dragnet Radio Show, the Great Detectives of Old Time Radio, and of course the Old Time Superman Radio Show. Our hero does all this with the help of a Journalism Associates degree from Flathead Valley Community College and his auburn-haired leading lady, Andrea.

  High-spirited but serious-minded, Andrea Graham has been envisioning fantastic worlds since childhood and writing science fiction novels since she was fifteen. She studied religion and creative writing as Ashland University. She writes a devotional at www.christsglory.com and posts writing advice and book reviews at her freelance editing service’s website, povbootcamp.com.

  Andrea and Adam live with their cat, Joybell, in Boise, Idaho.

  Other titles by Adam Graham available where fine ebooks are sold:

  Powerhouse books

  Tales of the Dim Knight

  Powerhouse Hard Pressed

  Non-Fiction