by Lee Alan
“Would Madam care to see her transportation arrangements?” He asked theatrically.
“Madam would,” she replied with forced enthusiasm.
He took her hand and led them to a brightly lit control panel on the front of the building. Its digital display read “Authorization.” Anna had expected to see some kind of numerical number pad, but, instead, a mirror–like interface greeted them.
“Ever seen a thumb scanner?” Corey asked.
“Yeah, sure—I’ve got one on my laptop,” she said, finding his nerdy questions irritating in the face of the monumental task ahead. A bunch of flowers and a movie would have done, but I got Buck Rogers, she thought.
“Check this out,” he declared.
Corey moved his face in front of the panel, and, as he did so, a spread of red laser light scanned his chiselled features. Within a split moment, a composite image had formed into an exact likeness of his face on the display. The representation looked so detailed that it replicated the cute scar above his eye. With the scan complete, Corey’s name appeared on screen in green letters.
“What do you think? Cool, huh?” He asked, grinning at her with that puppy dog look again.
“Wow,” she replied, with what she hoped sounded like a suitable amount of enthusiasm. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes, noting that boys really did love their toys.
A second later, the front of the hangar parted to reveal a shadowed interior. Anna could only make out the silhouette of something large and smooth in the gloom. When the opening sequence had completed its automated routine, a bank of flood lights washed the interior with intense, electric illumination. For a second, Anna’s vision became dazzled by the sudden contrast, but her eyes soon adjusted.
The plane looked pitch–black, and its polished surface reflected the surrounding environment perfectly. At a first glance, the machine seemed like the other business jets she’d seen dotted around the airfield. On closer inspection, however, there were subtle differences: its wings appeared to be much longer than its conventional counterparts, and the fuselage had fluid–rounded edges.
“Say hello to HELA,” Corey announced.
“Wow!” This time, she really meant it. “Why’s it called HELA?”
“It stands for High Efficiency Light Aircraft.”
With that, Corey strode over to the barely–discernible outline of a door on the side of the plane and activated another device identical to the one on the outside of the hangar. This time, the access request prompted the fuselage door to open with a whoosh of compressed air, followed by a set of retractable, chrome stairs, which unfolded to the concrete floor.
“Your carriage awaits, milady,” Corey said, gesturing toward the interior.
Anna gulped and approached the waiting plane, while supressing the terrified screech threatening to escape her throat. She had the sudden urge to run into the desert, like some crazed banshee, never to be seen again.
The inside of the craft seemed reassuringly luxurious: ebony–colored panels and chrome surfaces dominated the décor. Everything appeared polished to the same high standard as the exterior. Molded against the curvature of the inner shell was a stylish, black couch, surrounded by all the creature comforts one would expect for a wealthy traveller, including an intricate, silver drinks cabinet. Subdued, blue lighting gave the furnishings a mellow glow.
“It’s amazing!” She exclaimed, running her hand over the soft cushions of a recliner.
“No expense spared,” he agreed jovially. “She’s only just passed her final test flights, and you’ve given me an excuse to give her a proper spin.”
“Glad to be of help,” Anna replied, wishing he hadn’t used the phrase “test flights.”
“Don’t we need a pilot?” She asked, pointing toward the empty cockpit.
“He’s already here, and the best pilot on Earth, in my humble opinion,” he replied, with a smirk playing across his mouth.
“Oh. But, I don’t see…” she looked puzzled.
Corey seemed not to hear her and proceeded to seal the outer doors behind them, before heading to the cockpit nestled in the oval–shaped nose of the plane. Anna followed, looking around them for the elusive pilot.
Jesus, is this guy tiny, or something? She wondered. Maybe it’s another robot? She didn’t relish the idea of being flown by bunch of circuits.
Anna stared in bafflement at myriad technicolored instruments and data displays.
“Take a seat,” Corey said, tapping the chair she assumed belonged to the co–pilot.
“Oh, I don’t think I’m supposed to…”
“It’s fine—trust me,” he reassured, his mischievous twinkle remaining.
She sat, and then buckled herself into the seat with haste.
“Seriously, though, Corey, where’s the pilot?”
In response, he made a point of plonking himself into the pilot’s seat, his cheesy, infectious grin returning. “You’re looking at him,” he replied. “Like I said, I’m the best pilot I know.”
At first, she thought it a poor joke, until she realized he sounded completely serious. “No fucking way! You can fly?” He didn’t reply and just gave a bigger grin. “Oh, hell,” she blurted.
“Captain Corey Young at your service! Pilot number five–four–three–six–nine,” he said, giving a salute from his imaginary cap.
I trust him, she thought, surprised by the certainty of the feeling. “Let’s do it!” She said, unable to resist his relentless eagerness.
“Excellent! Secret destination, here we come!”
“You’re not telling me where we’re going?”
“Nope, sorry, but I don’t do spoilers.”
“Argh! You’re an ass, Corey!” She replied with mock exasperation, her anxiety levels increasing with each passing moment.
“Better hope I don’t fly like one,” he said, but the light–hearted comment didn’t help her one bit. He proceeded to place a wireless headset over his head before flicking a bewildering array of bright buttons and dials. “We’re good to go, Jed,” he spoke into the headset after several minutes of calibrating instruments, which appeared lifeless to Anna.
She heard a brief, muffled reply, and then the sound of a mechanism rotating. Her expectation had been that the hangar entrance would open and allow the aircraft to taxi out, but, to her surprise, the roof began to fold away above them until the Milky Way shone in all its glory through the cockpit window. Dumbfounded, she watched as the process of unveiling continued. It didn’t stop at the roof—the walls also disappeared like a giant, folding garage door surrounding them.
“You’re kidding me! What the hell is this thing, Corey?” She asked, her adrenaline levels off the chart.
“Would you mind pressing that, please?” He replied, ignoring her strained question and pointing to an ominous, red button.
“What does it do?”
“Press it and find out,” he replied with infuriating calmness.
OMG! A red button!
Taking a firm grip on her swirling emotions, she reached out a trembling hand and pressed it. Immediately, the previously blank panel leaped into life with a thousand LEDs blinking at her from every direction. Rising above the other instruments, a holographic representation of the plane formed the center piece of the display. It’d been divided into dozens of segments, each one colored a healthy shade of green.
“All systems optimal,” Corey spoke into the headset. “Roger,” he added in response to an instruction she couldn’t hear.
Although Anna knew next to nothing about aircraft, she couldn’t help but notice that it all looked very different than anything she’d seen on TV. Corey became focused, pressing controls and performing what looked like a series of pre–flight checks. Eventually, he stopped and turned back to her.
“Are you ready?” He asked.
The thought of letting him down overrode her instinc
t to chicken out. She nodded. In response, Corey pressed a small, black switch to his right. As he did so the sound of liquid pouring through pipes surrounded them.
“Primary fuel cells deployed,” he confirmed to the listening ground team. With that done, he wiggled his fingers, before taking hold of a flight stick in front of him. “Say hello to my little friend, called vector thrust!” He said, looking over at Anna and obviously loving the moment.
He proceeded to flip open a plastic cover in the middle of the instrument panel to reveal another red button marked “purge.”
Purge! Holy fucking spiders!
He pressed it and the mother of all roaring noises rose from beneath them. Anna sent up a silent prayer as she gripped the sides of her seat for dear life. She could feel a definite lifting sensation as the machine rose gracefully upward. The mighty power of its engines drowned out any other noise. This continued for a few minutes, while Corey did little more than inspect various data feeds. Suddenly, the upward motion stopped, leaving them hovering several hundred feet above the ground.
“Launch sequence complete—proceeding with flight plan,” he relayed, seemingly relaxed about their current status. Corey pulled on the stick, and, incredibly, the vehicle’s nose tilted up at an angle. “Here we go!” He said.
The HELA Mark II thrust into the night sky, like a giant bat carrying one jubilant billionaire pilot and one ex–waitress who wondered, and not in a good way, if she would need a clean pair of under garments before the evening concluded.
***
The plane moved at an incredible rate after having levelled again, and the initial deafening cacophony had subsided. Anna relaxed enough to un–dig her fingernails from the arms of the co–pilot’s chair.
“Deploying props,” Corey stated, and then pulled a lever next to the disturbing “purge” button.
Now what? She thought, alarm rising again.
This time, she heard the rotation of gears spring into action. In response, the holographic representation of the plane changed to show twin prop engines on its virtual wings. Shortly after, the gentle hum of turbines replaced the sound of roaring jets.
Trying to distract her mind from the nerve–racking situation, she tried to think of things to ask. “You said it did well in testing?” Her voice quivered.
“Sure did! The Mark II is our most advanced prototype, yet,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“You mean this is a test plane?”
“Yep. Don’t worry, though—we haven’t had any serious issues since the Mark I.” His attempt at reassurance didn’t have its intended effect. “The same solar cells you saw at the Estate power the props,” he added. “It’s far superior to the previous gen of solar planes. Actually, you’re sitting in the world’s first hybrid jet. Basically, once it’s reached altitude, it can switch to electric flight.”
“But it’s night. Cells won’t charge in the dark,” she replied, puzzled.
“High capacity batteries,” he replied, as if it were obvious. “They charge during the day. That’s only part of it, though: the cells on this baby are so delicate that they can draw power from moonlight. It’s not enough to power the engines alone, mind, but it keeps the juice flowing way beyond anything that came before.”
Anna’s apprehension quickly turned to wonder, as her gaze drank in the stunning panorama surrounding them. Thousands of feet below, lunar light bathed the rolling hills of the Badlands. In the distance, she could make out the neon, yellow streak of the interstate winding through the wilderness like a great, electric snake. Contrasting with the man–made illumination, the lights of the stars twinkled with an intensity she’d never seen before, framing a full moon that shone like a beacon guiding the HELA to its destination.
“Am I allowed to know where we are headed, yet?” She asked.
“A little place I’ve got in mind,” he said enigmatically.
“Corey, I can’t cope with any more surprises today. If you don’t tell me where we’re going right now, I’m gonna kick your ass!”
“Las Vegas,” he answered quickly, seeming to get the message loud and clear.
“Las Vegas!” She exclaimed. “But I’m still in my day clothes!”
“It’s taken care of. Take a look in the rear, next to the sofa,” Corey replied, looking pleased with himself.
Anna cautiously unclipped her belt and moved to the interior of the plane. Just as Corey indicated, a plain, black box sat next to the sofa. She opened the lid and moved aside protective tissue paper before lifting out a folded square of soft, black material. It unravelled to the floor, revealing a stunning, cut–out dress. The design shimmered, even under the low light of the cabin, while she turned it round under the soft glow, admiring its finely interwoven stretch fabric and asymmetric neckline. A solid–looking gold zip on the back completed an elegant look. She found more inside: a pair of gold stilettoes, a delicate, fringed drop necklace, and a selection of outrageously expensive looking, makeup accessories.
“I’ll be,” she murmured.
“I hope you don’t mind—I took the liberty of picking up a few things,” Corey said from the front with a note of anxiety. “Size ten is a guess. It would have kind of killed the surprise, otherwise. What do you think?”
Size ten—perfect. The guy buys me a dress worth more than my car and he says sorry, she thought.
“They’re great,” she replied, refraining from mouthing the word, “wow,” yet again.
“Anywhere I can change?” She called back, deciding to go with it.
“Sure. One second,” Corey replied, sounding more relieved than the moment they’d launched into the stratosphere without exploding into thousands of pieces. She heard him flick a switch, and, shortly after, a tinted, metallic screen folded down between the living compartment and the cockpit. “Just tell me when you’re done,” he added.
The compartment seal closed, leaving her alone with overwhelmed senses and soaring expectations. She took the opportunity to let out an explosive breath and tried to sort her racing thoughts into some semblance of order. Unfortunately, this process ended in an image of Corey’s strong features and a corresponding girly reaction in her stomach.
Can’t I just fall for a normal guy, for a change? She thought in protest to her own reaction. Tummy says no…
After changing, she checked the result via a floor–length mirror, which filled the entirety of a cabin panel. The transformation looked gratifying: she appeared the very picture of a wealthy, socialite beauty. Nothing like the care–worn creature who’d stared into a greasy kitchen mirror back in Kingman. Her features remained familiar, yet somehow different. She had the same blue eyes and soft, rounded jaw, but they were now framed by the sparkling drop earrings. Her fuller lips and skin glowed with energy. She felt good—real good.
Am I the same woman, anymore? She wondered.
After a time of contemplating her change in fortune, she finally built up the courage to tap on the divide between her and her date. It obediently folded into a recess in the aircraft ceiling, and Corey pressed a button marked “Auto Pilot” before letting go of the flight stick and turning to face her. Although appreciating his full attention, Anna couldn’t help but feel a little disconcerted by his abandonment of the controls.
“You look like a million bucks!” He said, and then reddened at his own overt enthusiasm.
“Just a million? That’s small change to you, fella,” she teased.
“A billion, then,” he responded.
“That’s more like it.”
“Want to see something else cool?” He asked. Anna groaned.
“Look,” Corey said, pointing toward the window.
Below them, the dazzling outline of the Las Vegas strip approached, like the extended finger of a neon giant flipping the bird to mother–nature in the inky darkness. It lay before them in all its glo
ry, a mighty collection of bustling casinos and fluorescent billboards. In contrast, the sound of rushing wind combined with the stunning view added to the surreal quality of the experience. It felt like holding hands while flying through the sky in splendid solitude.
Without thinking, Anna reached out and gripped his arm.
Chapter 14
They landed at McCarran Airport and found a bright, red helicopter already waiting for them.
“These things scare the crap out of me,” Corey confessed.
“You’re kidding me,” she replied, taking her seat beside him.
“It just doesn’t seem natural. The HELA is far safer.”
“You’re a strange man, Corey Young.”
“I’d take strange over boring any day,” he winked.
“You mean kinky stuff? Women with three breasts, and such?” Her expression became a picture of wicked ignorance.
Hook… she thought naughtily.
“God no!” He reddened. “I meant life in general.”
Line…
She adopted a phony look of extreme offense, as she glanced down at her chest. He glanced over and looked instantly horrified.
And sinker!
“Anna, I’m so sorry—I didn’t realize you meant yourself.”
She laughed, touching his shoulder. “That’s for strapping me to a rocket, you asshole!”
He appeared gratifyingly relieved.
The ride in the chopper felt markedly less comfortable than the smooth plane ride. Anna held on for dear life amidst the turbulence, as it buffeted through the air. Only the thought of puking all over the expensive dress was enough to steel her against the unfortunate possibility. They swooped toward a massive, pyramid–shaped structure at the center of the strip. Explosive jets of theatrical fire shot from its sides in a sporadic visual effect that she found mesmerizing, despite their choppy approach. A monumental billboard on its golden, sloping roof read, “The Grand” in thirty–foot high letters. The less–than–tranquil journey ended after a buttock–clenching landing on a private helipad far above the main building.
