Samantha felt as if her stomach were doing somersaults. Though the stratoskimmer’s gravity dampeners were designed to maximally decrease G-forces, their rapid decent overwhelmed these buffers.
Samantha could barely breathe as the mounting G-force overwhelmed her ability to expand her lungs. Marissa, too, gulped for air in this oppressive environment. Though they wanted to scream, their deflated lungs provided them with no air to utter a single sound.
The Atlantic Ocean became bigger and more distinct the closer they approached. Within a second, Samantha could see the waves’ white foam crashing down upon the water. The sight provided her with a brief moment of peace as she remembered her younger carefree days of playing at the beach. She also recalled fleeting memories of the good times she and Alex had at the shore in their early 20s—drinking at the sandy bars and hanging out with friends. It provided her solace when the end seemed but a moment away.
Tom slowly moved his hand up to the dashboard using every fiber of muscle strength he had in an effort to overcome the unrelenting force of gravity. His tendons and ligaments were pushed to the limits as they strained to their maximum capacity. With one final effort he pushed a yellow button, which caused sizzling smoke to encase their entire ship, obscuring all visibility outside the windshield.
They were then violently jolted as the ship suddenly began to spin. Samantha bit her lips and swallowed, attempting her best not to vomit. Marissa fared no better under the circumstances; for a moment she felt death would be the preferable option.
“Whoa!” Tom finally shouted as the ship stabilized.
Though they still could not see outside their windshield, only holographic images of two ships remained on it as opposed to the two dozen that had been cluttering it moments before.
Tom then flipped a switch from underneath the dashboard and the steering wheel expanded. Two semicircular wheels full of buttons and lights emerged from both its sides, creating a massive yet intricate steering column.
“Time to even the odds,” Tom said, now repositioning his hands on the wheel. It reminded him of his special ops days, flying a covert mission. A mix of adrenaline and genuine enthusiasm pumped through his veins as he activated one of the new switches that had emerged on the expanded wheel.
Red crosshairs appeared on a submarine-shaped white ship displayed on the windshield. Tom pushed another button and the ship began to blur and finally pixelate into nothingness.
Tom shouted with excitement, “Score!”
The sizzling fog quickly began to dissipate around the stratoskimmer, revealing a black, starry sky in front of them instead of the blue, watery grave that once filled the windshield.
Samantha turned to Tom. “I don’t know what you just did,” she said catching her breath, “but whatever it was, thank you.”
Marissa coughed up a congratulatory remark also.
“Let’s hold the praise until we’re the only ship left.” Tom cautioned, pointing to the one vehicle remaining on the windshield.
He then banked the stratoskimmer hard to the right and angled it downward.
“That’s an elite striker craft!” Marissa warned, staring at the long cylindrical-shaped ship with four tail fins equidistantly positioned around its rear end and two slender wings running down its entire length. Well-versed in modern and ancient military warfare after dating Alex, she instantly recognized the implications. “That’s the premier assault vehicle of The New World Order’s fleet. You can’t attack that, no matter what modifications you’ve made on this stratoskimmer.”
Samantha turned back to look at her friend. “A what?”
“There are only a half dozen of these ships commissioned thus far,” she responded. “It’s a top secret project only recently deployed. Alex showed me the specs just last week.”
Samantha was about to ask how he acquired this secure information when Tom interjected, “And I showed it to him last month.”
He smiled with confidence. “Where do you think we acquired the electrostatic smog I deployed?”
“The what?” Samantha asked
“That sizzling white stuff that just saved our asses,” he commented. “Alex engineered the smog based on the specs I so happened to acquire.”
“You mean stole?” Samantha added with a grin.
“I consider it a present,” Tom said, “that I happened to find and felt compelled to gift to Alex.”
Samantha laughed. “I hope there are a few more presents on this ship.”
“Is that what saved us from crashing into the ocean?” Marissa inquired.
“We were never going to crash,” Tom confidently stated. “That was just a ploy. I let those New World Order bastards think that they had damaged the ship when in fact I easily deflected their energy pulses. Then when it appeared as if we were about to hit the water, I deployed the smog and flew straight up into the stratosphere, creating a massive smoke screen that hid our ship in the process.”
The striker craft began to make a few evasive turns as its image flipped and rotated before shooting a few flares from its side, blurring their view of the craft.
“The smog then jammed all the attacking ships’ sensors and obscured their view of us at the same time,” Tom explained. “And because the smog expanded at an exponential fashion, it filled thousands upon thousands of square miles of the atmosphere within seconds.” He smiled. “And unless The New Reality ships knew the exact frequency to which it was deployed, they were all left virtually blind in its wake.”
The striker craft then appeared to fire a few pulses from its front, obscuring the space in its immediate forward trajectory.
The stratoskimmer began to shake and lose altitude. Tom did his best to stabilize the ship, but it continued to sway despite his best efforts.
“Let me guess,” Samantha chimed in, holding on to her seat. “This time you’re not faking.”
“No ma’am,” Tom remarked, attempting to stabilize the stratoskimmer. He then flicked two switches on the steering wheel causing the ship to level off and fly without further alteration.
Samantha watched as the image of the striker craft continued to grow in size, indicating that they were moving closer to it. At first she thought it an illusion due to the fact that it was the only ship remaining in view. Now, she could no longer deny its continued growth. “And why does it appear as if we are headed towards the striker craft instead of flying away?” she then asked warily.
“Because we are,” Tom said.
“Of course we are,” she responded, nodding her head, sarcastically, as if it all made complete sense.
“The problem is,” Marissa commented, “we can’t run. At this range, it’s locked onto us. If that smog didn’t hide our ship, nothing will.”
“But you made it seem as if attacking it would be futile,” Samantha responded.
“With those shields, armor, and speed,” she said, “it is.”
“Who said anything about attacking?” Tom interjected with a large grin appearing on his face.
Tom accelerated the stratoskimmer at top speed towards the striker craft. Surprised by the advancement, The New Reality vehicle changed its course and soared directly towards them. It was like a 21st century game of chicken.
“He’s taking the bait,” Tom said to himself as he opened his eyes as wide as they would go. “A little closer…”
Still much too far to make visual contact with the striker craft, Tom watched numerical readouts begin to encircle the ship’s holograph on the windshield. His pupils widened while he steadily placed his hand over a red switch on the console. “Just a little more.”
Seconds seemed like hours as the numbers around the ship changed.
“Now!” he exclaimed as he flicked the switch.
From the underbelly of the stratoskimmer, four discs shot out of its magnetic cannon towards the striker craft, each completely missing the target. With The New Reality vehicle’s maneuverability, it quickly dodged the incoming projectiles without any difficulty.
“You missed,” Samantha said, pointing out the obvious.
“Consider this a high stake game of horseshoes then,” Tom rebutted as he flicked another switch on the steering wheel.
Suddenly, the striker craft began to rapidly decelerate and lose altitude. They all watched as the vehicle started to jerk and fly erratically. It was as if the pilot had suddenly lost control of the ship.
Tom then angled the stratoskimmer towards the upper atmosphere and began to accelerate the ship at its maximum velocity. The striker craft’s size diminished in size by the second until no image of it remained on the windshield.
“I’m impressed,” Samantha applauded, relieved by their remarkable escape.
She patted Tom on the shoulder and smiled at his magnificent flying.
“Fantastic,” Marissa chimed in. “Were those magnetic vector field decouplers that you deployed back there?”
“Exactly,” Tom proudly remarked.
Samantha surmised the decouplers’ purpose. “I see what you meant by horseshoes now. Those magnets you deployed must have had enough magnetic force to destabilize the striker craft’s engines and drag the vehicle with it as it headed toward the ground. Ingenious.”
Tom smiled and nodded his head in agreement. “Where to now?” he asked, looking at the dashboard.
Samantha typed in the coordinates she had overheard from William. “Time to pick up a few more passengers,” she then replied.
Tom raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response only to be met with Samantha’s cynical smile.
***
“That’s odd,” Tom commented after about another 10 minutes of flying, looking at the dashboard. “We’re almost over the area now, and it seems our flight path is being automatically diverted. Could you type in those numbers again?”
Samantha complied but the ship again made an unnatural adjustment to its course.
Tom stared at the dashboard and watched his ship change direction. “Whoever’s at those coordinates,” he said aloud, “certainly doesn’t want us or anyone else to find them. It looks like they have some remote device that is able to supersede the stratoskimmer’s controls and divert our ship if we fly too close.”
“Try the electric smog,” Marissa suggested. “Maybe that will jam their divert signal.”
“Great idea,” Tom agreed, pressing a button on the dashboard.
Smog began to spew out from the ship’s underbelly and engulf the entire stratoskimmer, completely obscuring their view out the windshield. This time, however, Tom watched the digital readouts on the dashboard as their ship flew directly towards the designated coordinates without further interference.
As the ship landed, they felt a slight jolt letting them know they were safely on the ground. Because Tom only deployed a small fraction of the smog he had previously released, the sizzling smoke began to rapidly dissipate. As their visibility returned, they realized that they were surrounded by what appeared to be an array of both modern and more classic-styled military tanks. More began to appear out of thin air until at least fifty completely surrounded their ship.
“It looks like someone’s giving us a welcome party,” Tom commented. “But if they thought a few holograms would scare us away, they’re certainly mistaken.”
The tanks immediately fired upon them. Before Tom could react, the stratoskimmer was knocked to its side as the incoming projectiles exploded upon impact. The ship shook as each new volley of attacks continued to make contact.
“I thought they were just holograms?” Samantha said, taken off guard by the inexplicable authenticity of their attackers.
“I’m taking us out of here,” Tom yelled as he flipped a yellow switch and began to repolarize the engines.
Samantha reached over and flipped the switch the other direction as another direct hit almost threw her out her seat.
“We’re going nowhere,” Samantha exclaimed. “Not unless we have Alex.”