by Laer Carroll
The first was Johnny Cash's "Ragged Old Flag." Jafari had a growling bass voice that did credit to Cash's spoken lyrics.
Another was “Pink Houses” by John Mellencamp. Alberto sang the lyrics and played the guitar. The rest of the band lent only incidental music.
Another was Neil Diamond's "Coming to America." It was a challenge to score because it could be played with up to a dozen parts. Jane had called on the Poly School's musical faculty to help with it. They boiled it down to five parts. Its simple driving guitar line was well played by Alberto. Mailey sang the lyrics in an achingly emotional soprano.
The next song was as patriotic as the other three, all of which had brought tears to a good many eyes, but the group had decided that the audience needed a change of pace. They chose Red Foley's "Smoke on the Water" with its lyrics of warning to the enemies of freedom who would see "smoke on the water" if they persisted in folly. A number of the crowd took up the bouncy country-and-western tune and danced rock and roll.
They followed that with Merle Haggard's “The Fightin' Side of Me." Wang got his chance to sing that. He did an even better country-and-western twang than Alberto. The swing dancers did the simple piece proud.
Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA" was growled out by Jafari and Alberto added the guitar licks.
The last of the selections was Bob Dylan's "Blowing in the Wind." Alberto played guitar. Wang took up the harmonica to play under Jane's sad contralto.
The program played three times at the festival: near the beginning, the middle, and at the end. As people began walking out the quintet played one last piece: the Dead March from the Middle Ages.
It began with Jafari playing a drum rhythm: Bump bump bump. Bump bump bump. Clackity clackity clackity CLACK. Clackity clackity clackity CLACK.
Over and over again to the tempo of a slow march.
Then Wang came in with a fife playing a haunting melody, simple, sad. Then drums only. Then drums and fife. Drums only. Drums and fife.
People stopped to listen. Then they began to walk again, more slowly, many stepping to the march beat of the drums forever walking, walking, walking, quieter and quieter and quieter. Till finally, after seeming forever, the music ceased.
<>
The next day the Times first-page headline of several about the Veteran's Day celebrations was Simple Sad Moving. Under it the news story began "The Polytechnic prodigy begins a new chapter of her musical career."
The story reviewed the seven pieces they'd selected, questioning of following rousing patriotic songs with country and western songs and the lively dancing the latter excited. Only to say the quintet had redeemed themselves by ending the evening with the funeral march commemorating the veterans who'd died for their country.
Jane studied the story with calculation. Her feelings were not engaged. She was doing an experiment, not a personal journey.
Not so the other members of the quintet. They were by turns elated and incensed in their phone calls to her. She decided she needed to calm them down and focus them on the future. She called them to meet her at Poly in a rehearsal room. On a Saturday in the middle of summer several rooms were available.
After a few minutes she spoke up. "OK, big deal. Your feelings were hurt by the Times reviewer. You're old enough to know they only say things to show how superior they are to the slobs playing the music. Toughen up. The show producers we try to sell our acts to are going to be more savage. Now let's think about our next gigs."
"OK, little mother." "Slave driver." "Bossy."
"That's better. Now who are some of our future customers?"
Only Wang had no opinion. He was still in graduate school at CalTech and focused on his studies. The rest were professionals several years into their careers.
Some of the venues were night clubs. They were tough to get into; there were plenty of older musical pros who had better ins with the owners. They did get a few gigs. They were tough. Most of the audiences would rather talk than listen. The ones who listened were in the dance clubs. Mostly they wanted recent hits or oldies that let them dance mindlessly.
One incident changed the rest of the quintet's view of Jane. It happened after 1:00 in the morning when they were about to leave a night club and they were in the manager's office.
"Here's the money. But I want a little something extra from you. You, kid, come here."
Jane stepped near him. He grabbed one of her tits and said, "Just as I thought. Nice and little and--"
Jane's strike to his gut was so sudden and fast no one saw it. They just saw the manager's shocked face and his lean forward over his injured gut. He was lucky that Jane had carefully measured her punch. It had only hurt him, not crushed his insides.
She looked at him clinically, nose to nose, her face totally without expression. She said, "You puke on me and I'll tear your balls off and cram them down your throat. Nod, shit-head. Or you'll get worse."
He nodded.
"Now sit down and write out a note, including the amount, our name: J-Group Band, the date, and 'Paid in Full Evening Performance.'"
He hobbled over behind his desk and fell into his seat. Slowly he wrote out the note. She took it from him and read it. As she did so she said, "You pull out that pistol in that drawer and I'll take it away from you and cram it up your butt. You put a hit on me or mine and I'll hunt you down and kill you. Slowly. Nod if you understand."
He did. The smell of shit and piss filled the air.
Jane stood looking at him. She'd have shown more expression if she was sizing up a dress to buy.
"Remember this. Tell all your buddies that I'm a demon from Hell compared to you sad little gangsters and would-be gangsters. Oh," she said as she turned away, "We have a gig here next month same time same fee. Put it on your schedule."
So frightened was he that he took up a schedule book and began to write in it.
Outside in the parking lot Jane stood for long minutes looking back at the exit from the club.
"What are you doing? Let's leave!" said Jafari.
"I'm waiting to see if he or one of his men come out after us with a gun."
"What are you going to do?! Against guns!"
"Kill them all, then call the police."
"My God, Jane, are you crazy?!"
"No. Just realistic. You all can quit if you want. I can get someone else."
"I'm leaving," said Wang. He giggled. "See you at next rehearsal."
The others left too with backward glances at Jane.
<>
She stood there for 47 minutes. Then the club owner came out. He saw her standing perfectly still, looking at him. She could have been a statue.
He screamed. Then, when she did nothing but look, slowly walked crabwise to his car, his gaze never leaving her. She turned slowly, her eyes shadowed under the neon lights overhead, never once losing what seemed like a target lock on him. He got into his car and slowly drove away.
Inside her the supersmart robot which was another half of her lapsed back into relaxation.
In those minutes in the manager's office Jane and it had become one, a machine with no emotions except a fierce determination to survive. She was never after to become fully and only a human being.
<>
The others of her quintet were wary of her the next time they met, but slowly they relaxed as she kept on acting exactly as she had before. They even came to argue with her when they disagreed with her.
The next month they had their same gig at the club where Jane had literally scared the shit out of the manager. As before they took requests from him, though delivered through one of the bouncers.
Their gigs slowly picked up. They were reliable and capable, able to play a wide variety of pop and rock pieces.
<>
Thanksgiving came and went. So did Christmas. The next Poly semester began. All Jane's applications to colleges and universities came back approved: CalTech, UCLA, USC, Stanford, several more from out of state.
It also incl
uded the US Air Force Academy. Application there had been quite complicated, with all sorts of requirements such as passing a physical exam and athletic tests such as a mile run and pull-up tests. She also had to get an endorsement from one of a variety of people, including a member of the US Congress.
Her pilot course was nearly complete. Jimmy, with her permission, had made it more complete and difficult than he did for most students.
<>
On the second day of February they were taking their last flight together as he was quizzing her in the air about ten miles east of the El Monte Airport. When they landed he'd leave the plane and she'd remain in it for her final solo flight, which would gain her a license for limited activities. She was in control of the plane as he asked her questions.
The last question was delayed. Too long. She glanced at him.
He was leaning back in his seat, looking upward at nothing. He had his hands pressed against his chest, breathing shallowly. His face was twisted in pain, but slightly because all his attention was focused on fighting the pain.
He was having a heart attack.
Cold washed over her and she felt her robot come fully awake. The world slowed, became brighter.
The robot prompted her to put a hand on Jimmy's neck. She did so. Influence flowed out of her into him, stabilizing his body almost completely. But even the robot's super science could not cure him. His body was still trending toward death.
Jane keyed the microphone on the dashboard. Speaking calmly and clearly she said, "El Monte Control, this is single engine Piper Archer id number N937CZ. We have an emergency."
"Roger Piper 7CZ. What is the nature of your emergency?
"My pilot instructor is having a heart attack."
"Roger 7CZ. Return to this airport. We will have an ambulance here in fifteen minutes."
Jane, her metabolism now sped up so that the world seemed to move more slowly, calculated a number of relevant factors.
"Negative, El Monte Control. There is not enough time. I am diverting to land on Highway 210 near the Methodist Hospital. Call the Hwy Patrol and have them block off traffic--"
"Negative, negative, negative! Land here. We'll take it from here."
A slight burn of anger sipped into her calm.
"El Monte Control, I was just about to solo. I can land on the freeway with no problems. Now get your ass in gear, or I will personally tear your fucking eyes out when I see you next. Jimmy is dying and he has not a second to lose."
"7CZ, you are in big trouble, young lady. Return--"
Abruptly his voice cut off and another voice came on.
"Piper 7CZ, will comply to your request. Where are you?"
She gave the speaker her location and vector toward the landing spot.
"Roger, CZ. We are on the phone now to the State Police and the highway will be blocked off for one mile near the hospital. Are you OK?"
Behind the voice on the radio she could hear faint sounds of outrage but also someone on a phone to the police.
"I am fine. I recently had my physical and my appointment to the Air Force Academy. It's my friend who is in trouble and I'm going to do anything I can for him. Including killing anyone who stands in my way."
There came a chuckle over the air. "I'd normally think you were fucking loony toons but I know a little bit about you. Baker Air owner is here and she vouches for you."
"Good. Tell her I'm in full control here and perfectly calm. Now please only speak to me if absolutely necessary. I'm closing in on 210 and lining up my approach. I need to focus on this job and not handholding any of you."
Out the windshield she could see the freeway coming up as she lowered toward it. Flashing red lights on the freeway showed that the police were blocking traffic. A few vehicles had entered the freeway but had pulled off the roadside as far as they could go and parked. People were out of those vehicles and looking up toward her.
She moved a bit to better line up exactly along the roadway below her. It was floating up toward her. She calculated a slightly too close an approach to an automobile and a bit ahead of it to a moving van. She made adjustments.
She came down to exactly where she wanted to be and gently set the craft down, a three-point landing on the three fixed wheels of the aircraft. She reversed the propellers to slow her down but not too much. She wanted to coast to just short of the white ambulance she could see at the blocked western edge of the freeway.
Jimmy's pain had eased enough through her robot's efforts that he'd been aware of how her landing went. The tiniest smile showed on his mouth.
Jane pivoted the aircraft as it eased up to the ambulance and turned to put Jimmy's side to it. The plane stopped. She killed the engine and the propeller and set all control surfaces to tilt up. This would make any wind flowing over the craft push it down and more solidly to the surface.
The plane door on Jimmy's side came open and two medical people took hold of him as Jane flipped Jimmy's seat belts to open. They carefully pulled him out of the plane.
Jane got out and walked around the plane, making sure it was as solidly down as possible. She wished she had tie downs for it but did not have them nor anything to tie them to. She turned toward the ambulance.
She got only a few steps toward it before a big Highway Patrol officer grabbed her, spun her about, and pulled her arms behind her. She let him. She was surely stronger and more athletic than he but fighting would be a bad idea.
He handcuffed her and began pushing her toward a patrol car. Her robot remained watchful but did not interfere. She kept pace with the man, moving with him as if they were martial arts partners flowing with each other before a clash. It disconcerted the officer. He was used to resistance, not assistance. He pushed harder and she still flowed with him.
"Stop doing that, bitch!"
Another officer met the two. He said, "Jackson! Halt! What do you think you're doing?"
"I've apprehended the perpetrator of a criminal act."
"A criminal? Right now a dozen photos and videos are being taken of this action. Reporters are already here and scrambling to get here. To all them she is a hero. And look at her. A hundred pounds soaking wet, skinny, and a teenager. Hardly a threat to anyone."
Dimly as her robot receded back to near sleep it quirked an eyebrow, or at least it seemed that way to Jane. No threat? It could wipe everything for a hundred feet around clean off the surface of the planet.
She sent a message to it. Behave, you imbecile.
Distantly she heard a chuckle from the supposedly emotionless robot as she felt the handcuffs being removed. The older officer apologized to her. She smiled at him.
"No need, sir. Officer Jackson was just doing his job."
<>
By the time she got to the edge of the crowd several reporters with their photographers and one TV cameraman had forced their way out of the crowd. One pushed a microphone hear her. Her police captain friend, or maybe sergeant, moved to block the reporter but Jane spoke to him.
"I feel up to a few questions. You--" She addressed the TV reporter, a pretty Latina. "What was your question?"
"Did the police actually just arrest you, Ms.--"
"Jane Kuznetsov. My father is Dr. Kuznetsov. He teaches at CalTech.
"Nobody was arresting me. I was pretty shaky when I got off the plane. Officer Jackson was helping me."
"It didn't look like help. It looked--"
"I can't help you with your delusions. Next." She pointed at another reporter.
For the next few minutes she got across that she was a student pilot. And no, she hadn't had any problem landing. She'd had her solo flight and was fully qualified to land by herself.
"A freeway, this one anyway, is a piece of cake compared to the runway at El Monte Airport. Not that it is bad. It's just it a bit shorter than a freeway."
Why didn't she land at the airport? Why had they allowed you to come here?
"Jimmy, my instructor, was in a bad way. Every second counted. Now excus
e me, I've got a ride to the hospital. Don't I, Captain Lopez?"
Her "friend" said he believed she did. Officer Jackson was free just now.
Jane insisted on riding in the passenger seat of the Highway Patrol car beside Jackson. After making sure she was solidly buckled in he turned on the siren and forced his way through the crowd on the freeway.
Once they were in the clear he said, in a low voice, "Thanks for letting me off the hook, Ms.--Kuznetsov. My ass could really been in a sling."
"I could see you were doing your duty. I'd never penalize someone for that. How long have you been on the job?"
She didn't have long to continue their chatting. The Methodist Hospital was less than a mile away. Jackson parked the patrol car directly in front of the entrance but to the side to allow any ambulance better access. He accompanied her into the building and up to the reception desk.
"This young lady has a friend here, just admitted. A--" He looked at her.
"James Patton. He had a heart problem."
The receptionist looked at his computer screen and said, "He's in surgery. The waiting room is that way. Just follow the signs."
"Thank you. And thank you, Officer Jackson."
"You don't need me to escort you? I can."
She smiled at him and went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
"No. I can read signs and ask for directions. Stay safe."
He grinned at her. "I suppose if you can find your way to a freeway and land on it you can find a hospital waiting room. YOU stay safe."
<>
Jane called her parents and found they were on the way to the hospital, having heard of her situation from Baker. That person arrived shortly, closely followed by her parents. They were upset and hugged her hard. She broke away from and said, "I was never in any danger. Jimmy taught me well and I had just graduated from flight school after my solo check flight."
She figured the lie was not a lie. She HAD had her solo check flight, just not in the usual way.
