Eye Candy

by Ryan Schneider

  In one swift movement, Barney raised the gun and pointed it under his chin and pulled the trigger.

  There was a flash of white light and a loud BANG! Barney’s arm fell to his side and his body sagged in the chair. His red eyes flashed once and went dark.

  Sparkles of rainbow-colored light filled the air. Candy looked up. In the air all around her floated a cloud of rainbow dust. The bullet from Barney’s gun had gone through his cranium and lodged in the ceiling. Barney’s positronic pathways had been completely destroyed. His very thoughts seemed to hang in the air.

  Candy stood immobilized as rainbow dust settled onto her blond hair and the shoulders of her coat. Rainbow dust settled into the palms of her hands. She rubbed her hands together and the dust smeared, staining her skin green and pink and purple and blue, like the inside of an abalone shell she’d seen once when she was a little girl, the same day she’d gone swimming into that cold and salty ocean.

  Candy sat in the chair beside Barney’s inert form. She reached down, took hold of his hand, and held it between her own.

  Chapter 12

  Egg Rolls and A-Holes

  Danny arrived at the Santa Monica subway terminal and parked in the passenger loading zone. A few minutes later, Howard appeared on the escalator. He climbed into the convertible and Danny headed for the airport.

  “It’s a nice day to fly,” said Danny.

  “Every day is a nice day to fly.”

  Danny drove past the airport terminal building and through the aircraft-owners’ security gate, then to the rows of hangars.

  He pressed the white button on the wireless opener hooked to his car’s sun visor. The massive door of hangar nine began to fold into sections as it lifted upward.

  Danny checked the position of the sun, then checked the time on his watch. Thirty minutes to pre-flight, an hour of flight time, and then he’d be back on the ground in time to meet Harley for her turn in the airplane. Harley had literally screamed when he’d called and suggested they go up. He wasn’t yet certain where things were going with Candy, but Rory’s endorsement of Harley warranted that he at least honor his agreement to take her flying.

  Danny drove into the hangar and parked near the Viper Jet. He and Howard got out and stood before the aircraft.

  “What do you think, Howard?”

  Howard surveyed the hangar, his head sweeping in a grand arc, and came to rest pointed in the direction of the airplane parked in the center of the hangar. The upper half of the jet was a shiny black, the lower half a vibrant metallic green, with a silver swoosh joining the two colors together, creating the effect of speed even when the aircraft was on the ground. Painted on the nose of the jet was a monstrous shark mouth, replete with two rows of triangular white teeth, and an eye with a mean-looking eyebrow.

  Howard read aloud the white sequence of numbers and letters painted on the fuselage just below the vertical stabilizer. “November-Niner-Six-Niner-Victor-Juliet.” Howard turned to Danny. “Victor Juliet? Is this in reference to it being a Viper Jet?”

  Danny nodded.

  “Clever,” said Howard.

  “I’ll prep for the roll-out, you grab the chalks.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Danny ran around the aircraft, removing the red protective covers from the air intakes and the engine’s thrust nozzle at the rear of the airplane. He carefully looked into each cavity, checking for birds or bird nests, a common phenomenon at airports.

  Danny completed the remaining items on his exterior preflight checklist while he watched Howard remove the yellow triangular-shaped blocks of wood from around the jet’s tires and hang them on their hooks mounted on the wall. He was impressed that Howard had known where to put them without being instructed to do so. He handed the tow-bar to Howard. “Want to tow it out?”

  “I’d be honored, sir.” Howard quickly attached the prong of the tow-bar to the jet’s nose wheel and pulled. The jet rolled forward, and Howard backed up, pulling the aircraft out of the hangar.

  “Nicely done, Howard!”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Danny raised the canopy. He flipped the Master switch to On, activated all exterior illumination, and lowered the flaps. After circling the airplane once more to confirm all was as it should be, he turned them off and placed the tow-bar in the hangar beside the chalks. He grabbed two parachutes off the shelf and rejoined Howard at the jet.

  “Ever been skydiving, Howard?”

  “No, sir. I’ve not yet had the opportunity.”

  “Does that mean you would like to go skydiving?”

  “I believe I would, sir. From what I’ve seen on television, humans seem to find the experience most exhilarating. I would someday like to experience it for myself.”

  “Well, not today.” Danny held up a parachute packed into its backpack. “I don’t anticipate you’ll need it, but this is a parachute. In the event that we have to depart the aircraft, I will blow the canopy, trim nose-down so that the airplane goes into a dive, and I’ll say, ‘Eject, eject, eject.’ You release your seat belt and climb out of the airplane. When you reach the designated altitude, the parachute will deploy automatically. If it doesn’t, pull the red D-ring. If that chute fails, pull the white D-ring. This deploys your back-up chute. If the back-up chute also fails, grab your ankles and kiss your ass goodbye, and try to smile when you hit the ground. Any questions?”

  “No questions.”

  Danny placed the parachute on the ground and Howard stepped into the leg straps. Danny helped Howard shrug the pack up onto his back, and buckled the buckles. Danny then donned his own parachute.

  “Climb aboard.”

  Howard deftly climbed into the cockpit and Danny showed him how to operate the four straps of the seat belt. He demonstrated the use of the helmet and its attachable oxygen mask before he realized Howard had no need of the oxygen. Danny climbed into the front seat, secured his own seat belt, and ran quickly but methodically through the remaining items on his checklist. He casually observed Howard adjusting the helmet, and making himself comfortable. Howard’s head swiveled in small, measured increments; he was studying the cockpit layout, studying the flight controls and glass panel displays; as any good aviator would.

  Danny closed the canopy and started the engine, relishing the high-pitched whine and the slow, rumbling wind-up as the engine spooled up. Unlike those on his convertible, these sounds were authentic.

  Danny glanced in his rear view mirror at Howard. Howard’s red eyes glowed.

  Danny radioed the ground controller and got their taxi clearance, taxied east to the beginning of Runway 21, and taxied into the run-up area just short of the runway.

  Beside them, in an old white-and-brown, high-wing Cessna 172 Skyhawk which looked to be easily fifty years old, an older man, clearly a seasoned pilot turned Flight Instructor, was attempting to teach the student in the seat beside him. Though both of them were fairly gawking at the green and black Viper Jet.

  “Your jet attracts a lot of attention.” Howard’s robotic voice sounded smooth and calm in Danny’s headset.

  “Yeah, that tends to happen from time to time.”

  “Understandable. Your aircraft is very sexy.”

  “Sexy?” Danny smiled. He’d never heard a robot use an adjective as subjective as ‘sexy’. He laughed. “I’m glad you think so, Howard.” With his thumb, Danny pressed his push-to-talk button on his joystick. “Santa Monica Tower, this is Niner-Six-Niner-Victor-Juliet, ready for takeoff.”

  The airport wasn’t busy, and the tower controller responded quickly. “Roger, Niner-Victor-Juliet, you are cleared for takeoff Runway Two-One. ATIS information X-ray is now current. Winds calm. Sky Clear. Visibility is better than five thousand and five. Altimeter two-niner-niner-seven.”

  “Two-niner-niner-seven, roger,” said Danny, “thank you for that.”

  “Who you got in the back seat, Danny?” the tower controller asked.

  “That’s my friend Howard.”

 
“You’re a lucky man, Howard. You fellas have a good flight. I’ve got a Gulfstream 950 on a three-mile final, so keep it moving around the corner, Danny.”

  “Roger that, tower.” Danny released the push-to-talk button so only Howard could hear. “Ready to go flying, Howard?”

  “Affirmative, sir.” Howard’s eyes positively glowed. “Quite ready.”

  “Roger that.”

  Danny throttled up and got the jet moving. He taxied onto the runway, aligned himself with the runway centerline, and advanced the throttle.

  Within seconds, the Viper Jet was rapidly picking up speed.

  At ninety knots, Danny pulled gently on the joystick. The nose of the jet lifted into the air and the airplane flew off the runway. Danny retracted the landing gear and continued climbing until they flew over the coast, and the Pacific ocean filled the horizon a glorious blue.

  “Where should we go, Howard?”

  “I have no preconceived notions about our flight path, sir. I am simply happy to be in the air.”

  “You must have been a bird in a former life, Howard.”

  “Indeed, sir. Perhaps I was a positronic bird.”

  Danny laughed out loud. “Get on the stick with me, Howard. She flies like a shuttle, only a lot more maneuverable. And a lot more fun.”

  Danny banked right and turned to the north, following the coastline. He could feel a minute increase in the pressure required on the stick, the result of Howard’s hand clutching the joystick between his robotic legs. Howard had a light touch. He had certainly proved it when he bounced their damaged shuttle off the surface of the Salton Sea yesterday. “Let’s keep it at one thousand feet above ground level and four hundred knots.”

  “One thousand feet A-G-L and four hundred knots,” Howard confirmed.

  Danny let go of the stick and pulled his feet away from the rudder pedals. He would let Howard do the flying.

  “Hey, Howard. We forgot to check this thing for explosives.”

  “Too late now, sir.”

  “You’d think we’d have learned our lesson.”

  “Indeed, sir. Particularly given that two out of the three potential targets on board our sabotaged shuttle are now on board another aircraft. We certainly aren’t making the saboteur’s job very difficult.”

  Danny laughed out loud once more. “Was the mechanic at the shop going to call the cops or am I supposed to do it?”

  “Mr. McGherrity volunteered to take care of it, sir. A detective from the LAPD should be contacting you. What will you tell him?”

  “Good question.”

  “Do you believe the individual or individuals behind our accident are members of one of the anti-robot activist groups, sir?”

  “Seems likely. What do you think?”

  Howard did not immediately reply. Danny glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Howard’s head was turned and angled downward. He was watching the shoreline pass by one thousand feet below. Danny was content to wait for an answer, content to give Howard time to think.

  Finally Howard replied, “I think robots and humans can live in peace. If members of both groups will simply let it be so.”

  “Amen, Howard. Amen.” Now Danny looked down. At 400 knots, the coastline and the beautiful homes built along the beach raced by. People on the beach looked up and pointed at the jet. Then they were gone.

  “Enough of that,” Danny said. “Let’s do some flying. You think you can fly this thing?”

  “I can try, sir.”

  “You can do a lot more than try. I got off the stick five minutes ago.”

  In the mirror, he saw Howard look down at the joystick in his hand, then back up at the sky around them. “I’ve been controlling the aircraft?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Intriguing.”

  Danny laughed. “You have the flight controls, Howard.” Danny lifted his hands in the air, where Howard could see them, and wiggled his fingers in an unmistakable demonstration of positive exchange of flight controls.

  “Roger, sir. I have the flight controls.”

  Danny was pleased, and amazed, at Howard’s textbook response. He should’ve debriefed the procedure for deciding who was flying while they were still on the ground. Nonetheless, Howard seemed every bit the seasoned aviator. Danny had no doubt that were he to suffer a heart attack and lose consciousness, Howard was fully capable of returning him safely to the airport.

  “Hey, Howard. What’s that at our nine o’clock?” Two objects were approaching on the left. They appeared to be aircraft, though from this distance it was impossible to say for certain. But Howard had more powerful eyesight.

  “They appear to be a flight of two U.S. Navy-issue F-35 Lightning fighter jets. And they’re coming this way.”

  “We’re not too far from Vandenburg air force base. They’re probably out on maneuvers. Are we outside the restricted airspace?” Danny tapped the moving map display on his LCD screen, verifying their position; he and Howard were indeed well outside any restricted airspace.

  “It appears they wish to say hello,” said Howard.

  The Navy jets drew closer, until they were a mere wingspan away. They sported blue and grey livery, and a great golden dragon emblem adorned the vertical stabilizers. Both jets were a mottled grey color, with slightly rounded edges and corners. Danny had no doubt the fighters could be completely invisible on radar when they chose to be.

  The pilot in the nearest plane wore a red helmet with an image of a Chinese dragon spitting fire. The call sign stenciled on the edge of his canopy said Egg Roll. He raised one hand and flashed a series of fingers: 1-1-3-4.

  Danny tuned his number-two radio to 113.4 gigahertz. He listened.

  “You boys got your ears on?”

  Danny pressed his push-to-talk button on his joystick: “Roger, Navy. Got you five by five.”

  “Jolly good,” the pilot radioed back. “I’m Egg Roll and this here’s A-Hole.”

  A-Hole’s helmet looked like a golf ball. Stenciled on the lip of his canopy was A-Hole in One.

  “That’s sure a pretty bird,” said A-Hole. “We were just about to hit an MTR. You boys up for a little Follow The Leader?”

  “Whaddya say, Howard?” Danny asked, checking his rear view mirror.

  “It’s your airplane, sir.”

  “Yes, but your life is more important. You are my responsibility. The airplane can be replaced; you can’t be.”

  Howard did not immediately reply.

  “Howard?”

  “I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, sir.” Howard’s head swiveled toward the two fighters flying alongside. “Have you ever had a chance to fly with Naval aviators?”

  “No.”

  “Then it seems a shame to pass upon what is clearly a rare opportunity.”

  Danny laughed.

  Egg Roll held up both hands: Well, what’s it going to be?

  “I think he needs an answer, buddy,” said Danny.

  “As master Floyd would say, Let’s party.”

  Danny laughed once more, harder this time. “Care to share the sentiment with our Navy pals?”

  “May I?”

  “Be my guest.”

  Danny heard the slight click! when Howard pressed his push-to-talk button, followed by the distinct sound of an open mic. “Gentlemen, let’s party.”

  Danny heard more laughter.

  “Keep it no more than one hundred feet off the deck,” A-Hole radioed.

  “What happens above one hundred feet?” Danny radioed.

  “You don’t want to find out. Break left on my mark. Three . . . two . . . one . . . mark!”

  Both fighter jets broke hard to the left and descended toward the water.

  “You heard the man, Howard! After them!”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Howard flicked the Viper Jet into a descending left turn so sharp that when Danny looked up, the ocean was where the sky should be. Then Howard rolled them upright and fell into the number-three position
behind the second Lightning.

  Danny checked the altimeter in his heads-up-display. The red numbers seemed to float in mid-air a few inches beyond the canopy. They were flying a mere twenty-five feet above the ocean. “These guys are crazy.”

  “It would seem so, sir,” said Howard. “Shall I break off?”

  “Hell no. In it for a dime, in it for a dollar. Let’s see where they go.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Danny wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He found himself repeatedly reaching for the joystick; sheer force of habit. Finally he grabbed the straps of his safety harness.

  The Navy jets screamed through the air. Danny sat in awe as they banked left, turning west toward the Channel Islands. They flew just south of Santa Cruz Island, then ripped through the Santa Cruz Channel. A hard banking left turn careened them around the north side of Santa Rosa and around the smaller San Miguel Island in a tight, banking 360-degree turn, until they finally rolled level.

  Directly ahead lay the coast line. Danny glanced down at the moving map. They were lined up with the Military Training Route, five miles east of Point Conception.

  An oil rig appeared ahead. They roared past it, so low to the water that they were lower than the rig itself. Danny saw a score of people on the rig waving their red, yellow, orange, and white hard hats in the air.

  Then green foliage filled the horizon.

  Danny was rocked side to side, left and right, right and left, and back again. The Navy jets careened through a narrow river valley, averaging 100 feet above ground level.

  A mountain appeared and Howard banked hard to the right, tossing Danny sideways until his helmet bumped the canopy. Their angle of bank exceeded 90 degrees, as did those of the Navy jets.

  “All right, sir?” Howard asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Would you like to take the flight controls now?”

  Another mountain, another hard bank to the left.

  “You never change horses halfway through the race, Howard!”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Another mountain. Followed by another, requiring one long hard pull to the right. Danny looked to his right and found himself staring at the tops of massive oak trees, so close he could reach out and touch them.