Revolution (17 page)

    These controls are easy. If I step on the gas pedal, the dual rocket tubes in the rear ignite and propel the car forward, and if I step on the brake, the retro tubes in the front will force it to stop.

    Feeling a rush of exhilaration, Rayne decided to abandon the instruction booklet for the sky. Slamming the gull wing door, he turned the key in the ignition. He lifted the anti-grav lever and felt the vehicle rise into the air. He scanned for an exit door. Looking up, Rayne saw a large panel opening in the top of the dome.

   
Wow, turning my key in the ignition must have activated the panel.

    Rayne pulled upwards on the anti-grav shift and felt another rush of exhilaration as the vehicle ascended. It was as smooth as riding an elevator. The air-car shot out of the opening into the clear blue sky. Feeling a sense of awe, Peter gazed out at the massive skyscrapers and buildings of the New York cityscape. Looking down, he saw the gleaming transparent roof of the Central City’s Mile Mall spread out below next to the parking dome.

    Rayne turned the wheel hard and the vehicle spun 180 degrees until the nose of the car faced the glittering steel and glass Breechlere Corporate Tower. He figured he was level with the tower’s twentieth floor. Looking up, he saw the building disappearing far above in a linear perspective.

    He tried to estimate where Broderick’s office was on the fiftieth floor and thought about crashing into it. Turning the wheel, he felt the car do another smooth 180-degree turn until he was facing the city.

    Let’s see what this thing can do.

    His foot came down hard on the gas pedal. A thundering roar blasted out as the rear rocket tubes ignited and the air-car shot forward like a missile. Glancing at the speedometer, he saw he had gone from 0 to 80 in a second. He eased up on the gas pedal and lifted the anti-grav shift, causing the vehicle to ascend as it raced forward.

    The air-car was faster than he had anticipated. Glancing down at the speedometer, he saw he was traveling at 150 miles per hour. He found himself rocketing toward a skyscraper, closing the distance fast. Taking his foot off the gas pedal, he made a sharp turn and the air-car shot by the building. He saw that he was headed toward a cluster of smaller buildings beyond the skyscraper. Pulling up hard on the anti-grav shift, his stomach fluttered as the air-car ascended above the buildings.

   
That was close
.
I’m going to need some practice
.

    Pulling up again on the anti-grav shift, Rayne reached the air-car’s maximum altitude; five hundred feet. At this altitude, he was higher than most of the buildings.

   
Now, I can increase speed
.

    Rayne hit the gas pedal again, feeling euphoric as the buildings raced below him in a gray and black blur. Glancing down at the speedometer, he saw it now read 180 mph.

   
I need to calm down a little
.

    He reduced his speed to 125mph, but found himself heading toward another cluster of buildings high enough to reach him. His right hand pulled up hard on the anti-grav shift again, but to no avail. The air-car had reached maximum altitude. Taking his foot off the gas pedal, he slammed on the air brakes. The air-car rapidly decelerated, but it wasn’t slowing down fast enough to miss striking the closest building.

    Turning the wheel sharply to the left, he felt G-forces pressing against his body as the car veered toward the left side of the building.

   
Come on, baby. You can do it
.

    Rayne held the wheel tight in an extreme turn. Suddenly, the building disappeared in front of him and he realized he had made it past the left edge. Glancing right, he saw the wall of the building about twenty feet away.

   
I almost would have made it with the brakes
.
But almost
isn’t good enough
.
I have to calm down
.

    Rayne tapped the gas pedal cautiously, accelerating to a more reasonable 80mph.

   
I have to be careful from now on. This thing has even more power than I thought.

    Glancing down, he saw a long line of anti-grav vehicles far below moving slowly with the flow of ground traffic. This was the first time he realized there were probably rules of the sky.

Pushing down on the anti-grav shift, he slowed and descended toward the ground roadway. His car leveled out and he saw the line of anti-grav vehicles traveling approximately one hundred feet above the ground traffic. He descended into a gap in the air traffic until he was following the other air-cars. The air-car in front of him put on its left blinker and turned onto a side street.

   
I don’t even
know where the blinkers are in this vehicle
.

    He scanned the instrument panel’s multiple rows of buttons and switches, but he had no idea what most of them did.

   
I need to read the owner’s manual more carefully
.

    Rayne looked up from the instrument panel and concentrated on keeping himself at least two car lengths behind the car in front of him. Arriving at a large intersection, he saw a red traffic light hovering above the roofs of the anti-gravs ahead of him.

   
They even have anti-grav traffic lights up here
.

    He came to a stop behind a long line of air-cars.

   
I never even thought about having to follow
the rules of the road
.
Or more accurately, the rules of the sky
.

    The anti-grav light quickly blinked to green and he found himself moving forward in the line of traffic at a modest forty miles per hour.

   
This is almost as bad as being in
ground traffic
.

    Rayne finally located the right blinker and turned onto a side street. Sighing with relief, he realized he was the only air-car on the road. Looking down, he watched sporadic ground traffic moving like tiny snails far below.

   
I’m glad I’m not down there
.
I’m lucky that most people still can’t afford to buy anti-grav vehicles
.
If they could, the sky would be as congested as the roads.

    Accelerating to 65 mph, he began to enjoy himself again.

   
The traffic is not as bad if I stay off the
main avenues
.

    Rayne cruised some of the back streets of Central City. His sleek vehicle glided past numerous apartment complexes and parking garages. Occasionally, he would pass another air-car. Most of the time, he had the sky to himself.

   
It’s so peaceful when you
are high above the hustle and bustle of the city
.
I don’t know how I ever made it without an air-car.

    Rayne steered back into traffic. He hated to leave the tranquility of the side streets, but the main avenue was the most efficient route to the nearest exit ramp taking him directly to Inner City. 

   
Broderick told me my new apartment will be ready tomorrow. Then, I can move out of the slums and live like a real human being.

   
Tapping impatiently on the dashboard, he followed a long line of air traffic toward the nearest ramp leading to the sky highway. Glowing anti-grav markers indicated the lanes.

When he came off the ramp, it was a whole new ball game. Stomping on the gas pedal, he joined the fast-moving flow of air-traffic on the skyway. The sleek anti-gravs raced above the ground vehicle highway far below, leaving their crawling counterparts in the dust. Rayne followed the lead of the other air-cars in the lanes around him.

Approaching his exit, he tapped on his right blinker and curved around the exit ramp until he reached an all-too-familiar street in Inner City. He recognized the long, wide street where he had run into the protest march two days ago.        

    Horrific images from the past two days flooded his mind like a poison river. Closing his eyes, he tried to push them away. The air-car slowed to a near stop. Horns beeped behind him. After several tense seconds, he recovered enough to accelerate into the decaying Inner City.

   
I only have to survive one more night in my old digs and I’m out
of here
.

    Rayne steered onto familiar side streets and navigated his way through a complex road network that sliced through the decrepit tenement apartments and abandoned buildings like an urban labyrinth. He ignored the incredulous stares of the legions of homeless people camped out on the sidewalks and alleyways. As he drove by, the homeless stopped whatever they were doing and stared, mesmerized, at the air-car hovering high above the unplowed streets.

    Eventually, Rayne maneuvered his airborne machine into his old neighborhood. He glanced to his left at the abandoned, half-demolished apartment building located directly adjacent to his home. His eyes focused on a pair of tattered white curtains blowing outward from a shattered window like angry ghosts. Reaching the front steps of his apartment building, he lowered the anti-grav lever and drifted his new car gently onto the snow-covered sidewalk.

   
Ahh, good to be home.

    Peter turned off the engine, reached over to the glove compartment, and pulled out the owner’s manual. He skimmed through it until he found the material concerning the car’s security system. He would need it in this neighborhood. After reading a few paragraphs, he punched a code into the dashboard computer. According to the manual, the code would render the car useless to anyone else.

    Over the years, Rayne had watched many entertaining television commercials advertising anti-grav cars. He had learned that this simple feature was not the car’s only security system. Scanning the manual, he found the method for activating the car’s primary anti-theft system. He found a succession of five switches with tiny lightning bolts engraved over each one. It turned out that all he had to do was flip these switches to activate the primary system.

    Rayne had heard about the air-cars’ primary security system from gossip in the warehouse. Once the system was activated, if anyone tried to force the doors open without a key, a high voltage shockwave flowed through the car’s metal hull and electrified the entire surface. Of course, any object touching the car would also be electrified.

    For some would-be thieves, especially those with previous heart conditions, the attempt to break into an air-car was fatal. More fortunate criminals ended up in hospitals with electrical burns. They even got a new hairstyle thrown in with the deal, which resembled porcupine quills.

   
My car will be safe. Even in
this neighborhood
.
By this time in the history of air-car usage, word has gotten around
.

Chapter 15

    The next morning, Rayne left his apartment ready to start his first day of work as an Executive. His excitement was abated slightly when he saw the damage done to his gorgeous new vehicle. It had not been broken into, but the flag engraved on the door had been roughly painted over by vandals. A large splotch of bright red paint was splattered over the American flag. It looked like dried blood. Rayne cursed the scum who did this to his new car.

    They should figure out a way to improve the security
system to deal with vandals
.

    Rayne glanced nervously around the neighborhood. He reached behind him to make sure his antique revolver was stuffed securely into the back of his pants.

    I don’t want to get mugged before I get in. Then, all the security systems
would be for nothing.

     Turning the key, Rayne stepped back as the gull wing door opened smoothly with a hissing of air. He sank into the plush leather upholstery. Inserting the key in the ignition, he fired up the powerful rocket engines. He flipped the switch activating the car’s anti-gravitational force. A rush of excitement shivered through his body as the car rumbled to life.

    Then, he thought about the red spray paint on his door.

   
They’re just jealous because they
can’t have what I have
.

     Pulling up hard on the anti-grav lever, Rayne felt another rush as the vehicle shot into the air. His stomach dropped as he ascended to the height of his five-story apartment building. Stomping down on the gas pedal, he heard the strain of the powerful engine as the rear rocket tubes ignited. G forces pressed into his body as the car shot forward like a catapult. 

    Peter had his fun with the air-car yesterday, so he decided to drive conservatively today. He didn’t want to bring any unwanted attention to himself, especially since he was still a novice to the rules of the sky. He soon became accustomed to good old air-car 424. He hardly paid attention to the fact he was traveling a hundred feet above the ground, except when checking the anti-grav flight levels from time to time.

    A short time later, he reached the immense parking garage located next to the Breechlere Corporate Tower. Looking beyond the tower, he saw the broad black roof of the Breechlere warehouse next to the transparent Plexiglas roof of the Mile Mall. The immeasurable mall roof glittered in the early morning sun like a crystalline lake.

    Descending fast, his free hand shielded his eyes from the bright gleam reflecting from the parking dome. He watched other Executives lowering their vehicles into the top of the glass structure like bees entering a giant honeycomb beehive. He maneuvered his air-car directly above the octagon-shaped opening in the dome roof and pushed the electromagnetic lever carefully downward. He began a slow, cautious descent into the greenhouse-like dome while the other anti-grav cars dropped rapidly around him. He was starting to feel self-conscious.

    What am I doing wrong? How am I going to find my parking space?  Maybe I have to use the computer to make a complex landing
.

    Peter clicked on the AUTOPILOT option on the computer screen and typed into the DESTINATION column; Breechlere Corporate Parking Garage, space four hundred twenty four. After he typed the information and hit “enter,” the Artificial Intelligence program in the car’s onboard computer took a few seconds to process the information. In the meantime, he watched as the other anti-grav vehicles descended fast all around him as he hovered stationary in the air.

    Suddenly, his car was lowering itself through the parking garage under its own volition. Computerized sensors in the car’s hull ensured the progress was perfect. The car never traveled closer than twenty feet to any of the air-cars landing in the structure. He felt a sense of awe as the vehicle parked itself in the proper space.

    Rayne pressed a button on the dash and the driver’s side door rushed open with a familiar hiss of air. He left the car and used the remote on his key ring to close and lock the door.

    Rayne smiled with satisfaction as he looked down at his new attire. He hadn’t worn a double-breasted suit since he worked as a computer programmer in 2051. He was overjoyed to have the opportunity to wear anything other than a bland gray warehouse jumpsuit.

    Rayne strode confidently down the hallway with a spring in his step and bounded onto the elevator. He pressed the button for the twenty-fourth floor to go to his office to begin the first assignment of his managerial career.

    As he ascended the elevator, Rayne thought back to his confrontation with his so-called “friends” yesterday. Sinbad and Ryder had betrayed him. They had treated him like a pariah for no apparent reason.

   
Maybe
it’s time to give my old friends a little payback.

    As Peter reached the twenty-fourth floor, he pushed the “close door” button and hit the button for the ground floor. He grinned as he imagined the facial expressions of Sinbad and Ryder when they saw him walk into section 1, level 6 of the Breechlere Warehouse wearing a suit designating him as an Executive.

    Won’t they be surprised
.
Maybe they’ll think
twice about the way they treated me yesterday.

    Peter felt a rush as he descended. The transition from powerlessness to power was intoxicating. He knew that few people were lucky enough to experience the payback he was going to enjoy.

    Rayne repeatedly pressed the button for the ground level as he waited impatiently for the elevator to descend. It seemed to take forever to journey down the twenty flights. He paced the elevator to alleviate some of his nervous energy.

    When the doors opened, Rayne cut across the elevator lobby and took a left down the long, narrow corridor leading to the warehouse. He strode into the warehouse with the bearing of a victorious general returning to his country at the head of an immense army.

    As he entered the warehouse, a young man wearing a drab gray warehouse jumpsuit approached him.

     “Sir, how may I help you?” the young man, who couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five, asked him.

    Rayne thought the young man was looking at him as if he were a visitor from another planet. He knew why. During his eight years as an employee, Peter had never seen an Executive set foot in the warehouse. This employee was probably wondering what he was doing “slumming it” with the working people.

     “Get out of my way, grunt! Don’t bother me!” Rayne shouted, sneering at the fawning young sycophant.

    The young man darted out of the way as if he had been struck by the fangs of a serpent.

   
I’ve always wanted to say that,
Peter thought, grinning.

    Wherever he walked, employees scrambled to get out of his way. Employees who normally wouldn’t have given him a second look in his warehouse uniform stared at him with wide eyes as they scrambled to get out of his path. Forklifts screeched to a halt as drivers’ spotted his suited form stepping in their way. He eventually reached section 1 and walked past the freight elevator toward the Supervisor’s elevator.

   
I think I’ve earned the right to take this now.

    Rayne smiled as he stepped into the clean modern elevator. He pressed the button for level six and had the first smooth ride up in eight years. Stepping off the elevator, he strode toward a small group of employees walking toward the freight elevator.

    “Hey, grunts! Where’s your Floor Supervisor?” he shouted.

    The group of four employees turned casually toward him. When they realized he was wearing a suit, their bodies stiffened.

    “I asked you a question,” Rayne said, confronting the group.

    “He’s back there,” a young employee said, pointing toward the far end of the warehouse platform.

    Rayne turned away from the workers and made long, confident strides across the platform. He had to find his old friends and show off his new position. The expressions on their faces would be worth all the irritation of the past eight years.

    Rayne felt his pulse quicken as he spotted Sinbad behind his wooden podium. Sinbad was talking with none other than his traitorous friend, Billy Ryder.

     To heighten his amusement, Rayne decided to sneak up on them. He approached stealthily in Sinbad’s blind spot and came up behind him. He clapped him hard on the back with the flat of his hand.

All conversation ceased as Sinbad turned like an enraged tiger to face his unknown aggressor. Sinbad glared at the suited apparition, his face slack, as he tried to process what was happening. Billy Ryder stood next to Sinbad, dumbfounded, staring at Peter with wide eyes. Peter thought it was as if the two of them were looking at a ghost.

    There was a long pause lasting several seconds as the single brown eye of the grunt supervisor scanned Rayne’s suited form with unabashed incredulity. Ryder appeared equally mesmerized as the cigarette dangling from his lower lip fell to the cement floor.

    “You’re supposed to be in a Work Prison, Rayne,” Sinbad said.

    “Well, I’m not, guys. I’m free and living in luxury,” Rayne said, smiling. “It’s great. They gave me my own air-car. Starting today, I’ll have my own corporate apartment. I’m making big money now. Best of all, I have in my possession a green pass to Virtual-world!”

    It was exhilarating bragging to his friends about his sudden brush with good fortune. Rayne stared at the sweating features of Sinbad and at the pale, drawn complexion of Ryder, but their expressions were gradually changing. Sinbad gritted his teeth and squinted his single furious eye while Billy Ryder lit up another cigarette, took a long drag, and blew smoke into Peter’s face.

    Now it was Peter’s turn to look surprised. He coughed out acrid smoke as his previous euphoria broke apart like a skyscraper obliterated by a tornado.

    “How did you get where you are, Rayne?” Sinbad snarled. “You don’t show up for work and they promote you to Executive? If it was that easy, any clumsy son of a bitch could be president of the company!”

    “Hey, guys, I would appreciate it if you didn’t act like that in front of the others,” Rayne said as he noticed a small group of employees starting to form around them.

    Peter scowled as he realized any form of controversy always seemed to draw attention in the warehouse. His face flushed with embarrassment rather than excitement as he thought about his new position being challenged in front of the other workers.

    “Why, scumbag?” Ryder asked, blowing another stream of smoke into his former friend’s face. “If you got a problem, let’s take it outside. Or did your new promotion turn you into a pussy?”

    “Ryder, if you don’t shut up, I’ll issue you a DP charge,” Rayne said, grasping onto the first thing he could think of.

    “Yeh know what?” Billy Ryder said with a caustic smirk stretched across his boyish face. “I don’t believe you’re an Executive at all. You’re some kind of spy or something! Get outta my face!” Billy forced his open palm into the middle of Rayne’s chest, causing him to lose his balance and reel backwards.

    “That’s it!” Rayne shouted.

    His vast cloud of euphoric energy blew apart and coalesced into rage. No one talked to him like that! Maybe before when he was a nobody, but not now! After many years of servitude, he was finally in complete control. No one was going to interfere with his new vision of himself.

    “Trooper! Trooper! Get over here at once!” Rayne shouted to a patrol officer riding his air-cycle by the sixth level.

    Within seconds, the armored Shock Trooper turned his bike in mid-air and rocketed above the floor toward them. Workers had to dive out of his way like people abandoning a sinking ship.

    “Trooper! I want you to issue three Decreased Productivity charges to Mr. Ryder, and I want two DP charges issued to Sinbad,” Rayne shouted to the approaching officer. “If there are any further outbreaks by either party, I want them recommended for immediate termination.”

    “Yes, sir,” the Trooper said as he parked his hovering cycle and dismounted.

   Peter’s eyes widened and he began to back away when he saw the Shock Trooper reach down to his belt to draw his electrified police baton. He vividly remembered seeing the baton used on his friend, Henry Johnson, shortly before he was executed on national television.

    The only other time he had seen it used was during his first year of work at the Breechlere Corporation. One of his co-workers had gone berserk and assaulted a Floor Supervisor in a different section. After a few strikes from the baton, the enraged psychopath had become as docile as a kitten as he lay on the floor trembling.

    Rayne watched with awful fascination as the Shock Trooper activated the baton’s electric field. It glowed with a blue light as the officer closed in on Ryder. Billy’s eyes widened and he took a nervous drag from his cigarette as he watched the Trooper approaching him. Peter turned when he heard the painful wails of his former friend fill the air. He covered his ears and walked briskly away from the savage spectacle, as other workers began to converge on the scene like scavengers attracted to a corpse.