The mecha burst through the other side of the fireball in a tornado of shear forces, and the battle cruiser's exterior-mounted automated- defense systems started firing anti-aircraft weapons at her immediately.
Out of the frying pan!
Indeed.
Kira yanked and banked the HOTAS with her right hand and continued to push full-throttle forward on the stick. The g-forces pressed her body into the seat with the weight of a small hovercar on her chest, nearly knocking her unconscious since she was not wearing a g-suit. Kira realized all too quickly that she couldn't take the forces of combat without the proper gear and would have to get out of this vehicle as soon as possible.
Bursting out of the side of a battle cruiser in dock was hard enough, but Kira quickly realized that she was flying directly inland toward the spaceport city's skyline, where further high-g maneuvers might be required. On the other hand, flying toward the city actually worked to her advantage. She altered her vector slightly away from the beachfront and more inland, directly at the city skyline.
In order to avoid unwanted civilian casualties, the battle cruiser's automated defense system ceased fire. The AI controller would no longer continue to fire when civilian casualties became part of the firing solution. Unfortunately for Kira, the battle cruiser hadn't stopped firing until after it had managed to pepper the engine section of the fighter pretty well with the anti-aircraft guns. Smoke and flames consumed the rear of the fighter.
"Warning, power module rupture in starboard engine. Warning, engine failure eminent." The Bitchin' Betty of the mecha repeated her message of doom several times before Kira yelled at Allison to shut it off.
"Well, we couldn't fly this thing out of here anyway, and the gees are killing me," Kira commented. Already soaked from head to toe with sweat, her body ached from the extreme g-force pressuring against her. She just couldn't take much more maneuvering. Kira pulled the visor of the helmet down and banked the fighter onto a collision course with one of the fast-approaching skyscrapers. The visor sealed against the chinbar with a sticking sound, but the hiss was vacant as there was no g-suit sealed to the helmet.
"God, I hate doing this. Eject, eject, eject," she shouted out of trained habit and jerked down on the red-and-white-striped, do-not-ever-fucking-touch-this-under-any-circumstances-unless- all-has-gone-to-hell handle.
The cockpit blasted away, and then the pilot's seat launched with more than four gravities upward. Kira struggled to maintain consciousness and not to throw up. The fighter mecha continued forward with black smoke pouring from its tail. The ejection seat thrusters shut off, leaving Kira tumbling head over heels in the night sky. The spinning weightlessness was almost a welcome change from the harsh g-forces.
For a brief moment, her mind could only focus on the wondrous spectacle of the large purple, red, and violet Jovian planet spinning overhead, coming into view and going out of view, then the beach, then the Jovian, there were some stars, then the city skyline and a flaming mecha, then the Jovian, and so on. Then her spinning was abruptly disrupted with a mind-jarring snap.
A primary gliderchute had popped free from the rear of the seat's harness, stopping the roll with a good solid yank, throwing Kira hard against the restraints. As the motion slowed to within the design limits of the safety system—a second later—the larger secondary chute popped open too.
Finally in an upright position, Kira shook her head to clear it just in time to see the flaming mecha explode against a high-rise building just ahead of her about a kilometer or so from the beach. Kira could barely make out the breakers crashing from the violet lighting reflected across the night from the gas giant. The early-morning winds were very cold and blowing between the skyline buildings and out to sea. Chillbumps raced down Kira's arms and back from the sudden temperature change.
The spaces between the buildings acted like rocket nozzles funneling and accelerating the night winds, and they formed wild, eddy currents in the airflow that whipped her gliderchute around violently. Kira fought against the shrouds of the chute, struggling to keep the glider wings in a stable flight mode. She knew that if she drifted too close to the wrong building, there could be even worse turbulence and probably even severe downdrafts, which would mean serious problems. Serious problems.
So, Kira tried to guide the chute to the surface as fast as she possibly could by pulling the guide handles to bleed off her altitude. A ripstop section of the chute opened up, flapping against the wind and reducing the drag. Doing so doubled her drop speed, but it couldn't be helped. Besides that, she was a sitting duck in the air. There was no doubt in her mind that she was currently lighting up multiple radars, lidars, and QM sensors at the spaceport. Her presence was being tracked. Sooner or later, somebody might start shooting at her or at the least chase her down and apprehend her.
She had to get down and lose herself in the populace quickly. She circled rapidly in a downward spiral over the smaller buildings at the outside of the city. There were several major highways leading into the city and away form the beach with stores, shops, and apartment complexes lining them. Kira turned the chute beachward as best she could, hoping not to get caught in a swift air current that either slammed her into a condo or dragged her out into the ocean. The high-speed gusts blowing through the tall buildings persisted and several times turned the chute almost parallel to the ground. The main streets below her ran north and south, parallel with the shoreline a kilometer or so from what was the major part of the city. That street was the main strip along the beach and would be the easiest place to get lost in a crowd of late-night partiers. But there were plenty of obstacles to avoid on the way, like buildings, light poles, communications towers, holoboards, and the occasional local version of a palm tree.
I sure would like to know my vertical speed, she thought. I'm gonna go for that condo's parking lot over there. Kira focused on what appeared to be a fairly lush condo that had a large parking lot and was farthest from other tall buildings. There was a lighted patch of Sol System grass—probably Bermuda, as that stuff would grow just about anywhere in the known universe—large enough for a putting green and surrounded by several local trees just in the center of the parking lot. The lot was filled with cars and had two lanes for traffic between each row. If Kira was lucky, or good, or a little bit of both, she just might be able to land between the putting green and the condo front- to-back and within the traffic lane between rows of cars in the parking lot side-to-side. It was a damned tight squeeze all around, but she had done as tough before. Hell, once she'd even bailed out of a fighter plane at high speeds, under fire, while a nuclear bomb was exploding a few tens of kilometers away and then landed on a jumperball field between giant Martian fir trees in extremely high, nuclear-blast high, winds. This would be a piece of cake. Of course, that was years ago.
I've got an idea about your speed, Allison said, and paused for a brief instant that seemed like forever as the ground continued to loom ever closer and faster. Way too fast, Kira! Flare now! Flare now!
Kira let up on the control handles, flaring the chute to its full size. The wind filled it almost instantly and threw her back against the seat restraints. Seconds later, the seat collided with the surface at nearly fifty kilometers per hour and rolled forward, tossing Kira helmet-first into pavement. The chute caught another gust of wind and pulled the seat back upright after dragging her upside down for a few meters. Dazed from her head being pounded into the asphalt, Kira saw stars briefly.
Release the chute, Kira!
"Uhn . . . right." She struggled to regain her wits about her and then pulled the yellow-and-black-striped release pin. The camouflage gliderchute pulled free of the ejection chair and was whisked away by the seaward breeze. The last glimpse Kira caught of it was it dragging across the top of the several-story condominium looming above her and then flapping out toward the ocean.
Move, Kira! Allison shouted in her mind. As if someone had slapped her across the face, Kira regained her focus and began unstrapp
ing herself from the ejection seat as rapidly as she could. She was several kilometers from the battle cruiser at the spaceport now, but it wouldn't be long before the beach would be crawling with troops.
The ejection seat? Kira kicked at the monstrosity sitting in the middle of the parking lot traffic lane.
Leave it; you were probably tracked all the way to the ground anyway, Allison suggested.
Right. Spysats overhead? Kira looked up for any bright spots in the sky moving against the star field or in front of the gas giant. She saw none.
It would have been damned lucky for the Seppies if the orbit just happened to match when you landed. Now forget about it and get the fuck out of here.
When you're right, you're right. Kira scanned around her to get a full three-hundred-sixty-degree view of her surroundings. The bird's- eye view she'd just been privy to had been filled with far too many rapid decisions at once for her to conduct proper recon. Hell, she was lucky she'd survived that far. Kira tossed the helmet and other gear off. The helmet skittered across the pavement and then rolled up underneath a multi-passenger hovervan.
Fortunately, it was the middle of the night, and there was nobody on the beach as far as she could see. Kira got her bearing about her and then started moving. She ran underneath the condo parking garage and onto the beach. She followed the footpath from the condo to the beach. She walked until the breakers crashed around the soles of her boots and then looked up the mostly deserted beach. There were a few couples lying on loungers here and there and the occasional drunken partygoer wandering his or her way back to one of the many condos lining the ocean. None of them were concerned with her, so she wasn't concerned with them.
About three kilometers northward up the beach was the hottest nightclub in town. She'd been there once a year or so before with Elise Tangier, her first wife. That is where she needed to be. Kira rolled her head stretching her neck and then flapped her arms to loosen them.
I guess I could use the exercise, she thought, and then began to run along the beach, letting the crashing waves wash her footprints away.
You said it; I didn't, Allison added with a laugh. Kira ignored the comment and focused her mind on her footsteps. The crashing breakers made running all the more difficult.
Okay, Allison, we've got a few minutes while I run. Tell me how you knew my drop speed. A moment of just running had allowed her mind to focus, and she realized that Allison had pulled off something short of a miracle a few minutes earlier. It had been a miracle that had saved them both. Now she wanted to know the trick. She wiped at the sweat beading on her forehead and continued splashing one foot after the other. Occasionally, the sea spray would mist her and chill her slightly. It was a welcome, refreshing stimulus each time.
It occurred to me that we were near a whole bunch of condos. I did a quick check, and all of them had wireless network hot spots. Allison paused briefly.
And? Kira kept focus on one foot after the other.
And, I connected to several of them and watched how the data rates changed as we fell. It only took a few clock cycles to estimate our velocity to within a ten-percent error margin.
Why'd you need to access more than one hub? Kira asked.
Triangulation.
Duh.
The run had taken less than ten minutes, but the evening was beginning to take its toll on her. Kira was tired and looked a mess. Sweat and seawater poured off her forehead and down her back. If her pants hadn't been baggy battle dress, she was certain there'd be sweat-soaked spots running down her legs. She rinsed her face off with a handful of seawater and ran her wet fingers through her red hair. That reminded her.
Kira reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small tube, then squirted all the contents of it into her hand. She rubbed her hands together and then massaged the gel quickly into her hair and scalp. The gel reacted with the red hair chemicals and returned it to a more natural Martian black. Once she was certain the gel had been worked in thoroughly, she tossed the tube into the ocean.
"Let's see, this won't do." She pulled at her sweat-soaked top and flapped it to cool her off. The black T-shirt had to go. She removed it and used the only dry corner of it left to wipe off her face. Then she tossed it out into the water, leaving her in nothing but her synthskin black jogbra. The material was microfiber and thinner than paper but did wonders for support and wicking sweat from the body. It left very little to the imagination, however. She was on the beach, so it would do. Kira looked at the camouflage pants she was wearing and the black combat boots and thought they would have to do too. Even though she had been dragged across a parking lot by a runaway gliderchute, the pants had only minor frays and merely looked worn.
The wonders of modern materials, she thought. After all, the club was only a few kilometers from the spaceport, and there were soldiers in and out all the time in worn BDUs. Besides, from the sound of the heavy thrashing music coming from the deck of the place, her attire was likely to fit right in.
Kira walked casually up the steps leading from the beach to the club's deck. There was a hybrid hardcore rock and thrashfunk band playing on stage that was all the rage with the Seppy youth. There were literally hundreds of people there partying and paying no attention to the fact that a flaming fighter mecha had just whizzed overhead and crashed into the city. Kira doubted that they'd have cared if they knew. And that was exactly the crowd that she needed to be within.
Kira paid a bouncer at the top of the stairs the cover charge and paid little attention to the way he ogled at her nipples protruding through the thin material of her jogbra. She managed her way into the lake of people jumping and thrusting their fingers in the air to the music. Once she stopped to dance with a purple-haired thrashfunker, who was wearing nothing but pink and green cotton boxer shorts and flip-flops. Kira let her buy her a drink and finally managed to tear away from her with the excuse that she needed to go to the restroom.
She managed to force her way through the crowd to the restroom, where she freshened up a little more. Then she returned to the bar on the other side of the deck opposite the band and ordered another drink. And then she ordered another one. Allison used a fake account to pay the tab. After a couple drinks more, she stumbled to the front door and bought a bright green T-shirt that read "Beat it. Grab it. Suck it. Swallow it." The shirt had something to do with a new cocktail specialty of the club that was mixed and drunk from within the peeling of a local citrus fruit. Kira hoped to come back and see what that was about someday.
She took a cab to the Madira Beach Spaceport. At the spaceport, she changed her hair color again, this time to blond, and then took another cab farther out of town to a local rural airfield and tipped the cabbie an extra fifty bucks to forget he ever saw her, saying something about her husband not needing to know where she had been.
When she had slipped out of the mansion at New Tharsis to "go for a drink" several hours earlier, she had rented a single-engine plane under an alias and flown it to the rural airport several kilometers outside of Madira Beach City. The plane was still there, and nobody seemed concerned one way or the other that she was getting in her plane and heading out at that time of night. Small airports had been that way for centuries. Pilots could come and go any time of day or night with no need to get clearance from any tower or airport authority.
Allison, I'm tired. You take the stick, okay?
I've got it. The little single-engine craft lifted off the pad and vanished silently into the evening sky.
DTM me some of that download we just stole. And you might want to scan the news boards to see if there is anything about the crash of a stolen mecha fighter into downtown Madira Beach.
Roger that.
Chapter 7
October 31, 2388 AD
Sol System; Orlando, Florida
Saturday, 5:55 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time
" . . . thank you for joining us for this Earth News Network Breaking News Alert. I'm Gail Fehrer coming to you live from the anchor
desk in Washington, D.C. Sources tell us that a detachment of U.S. Marines have been deployed to Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida. We have no information as to why this has occurred this morning, but we do have reports of gunfire and several explosions taking place at the Magic Kingdom. There is also a report that there are several troop carriers loaded with U.S. Army Airborne Armored E-suit Soldiers headed in that direction. Again, we are not certain why. Another note here is that my inside sources at the White House tell me that the president was taking an unannounced vacation with his wife and daughter, and it is believed that they were spending the evening at the amusement park after hours. If this is true, we can only speculate as to what this means. Is there an attack on the president? Are President Moore and his family in any danger?" Gail Fehrer tapped the desk with her fingers repetitively and then looked into another view angle.
"We're going to go now to Orlando to field correspondent Calvin Dean. Good morning, Calvin," the anchorwoman said into the screen.
"Good morning, Gail." The screen split, showing Gail's once- cameraman turned famous action correspondent. He nodded at her as if he were looking right at her. Of course, he could see her in his DTM link as if she were right there in front of him.
"Calvin, what can you tell us?"
"Well, Gail, as you can see in the distance, there is Cinderella's castle at the Magic Kingdom. Seconds ago, there were several serious explosions and what we think sounded like gunfire. We tried to get an aerial view, but for some reason, the airspace from here all the way to Orlando International has been completely restricted and has been all night according to my sources. We did get this shot earlier." The screen switched to an image of Air Force One sitting on a runway.
"Ah, Air Force One is what we are looking at, I assume."
The Tau Ceti Agenda Page 9
