The sling was now bonded to the copter’s fuselage and aligned so that Izzy had full access to the rear cabin; but first, we had to let Doc know that we were there. The rotors would mask any small noises he might make. I was more worried about giving him heart failure if a hand suddenly appeared in the middle of the air and tapped him on his knee. Izzy wasn’t as worried. “It takes a lot to surprise Doc. I’ll have the note, plus he’ll see the embroidery on the cuff of my sleeve. He’ll remember the escape tools.”
The escape tools were the special kit that Doc had given her. He had made two virtually undetectable escape kits back in the early days of the dissident movement – one for himself and one for Izzy’s grandmother. Each set consisted of a sawing tool that would cut through plastic or metal restraints; a sharp narrow probe that could be used to open handcuffs, and several miniature screw drivers with different sized blades. Her grandmother’s set was lost when she was murdered by the DPS. Doc gave his set to Izzy when she became old enough to become one of the DPS’ primary targets. They were especially valuable now since he had made them out of hard plastic so that they would not set off a metal detector. When plastic disappeared soon after the oil panics, Doc wasn’t able to make another set.
I watched as Izzy poked her hand through the force field. She maneuvered a piece of paper out of her fist and shook it in the air so that it was fully open. Then, she tapped Doc on his knee and waved the note. The note said, “Are you up for some sky-diving?”
# # # # # # # #
The leg chain was now unfastened – although Doc hadn’t moved his feet; if the pilot looked back, it would appear that Doc was still cuffed to the copter. His hands were still behind his back but the plastic restraints had yielded quickly to the saw. Izzy had shown Doc several hand-written signs that outlined her plan. Then, she had flashed him the “Wait” sign and withdrawn her hand.
That had been half an hour ago. Periodically, Izzy reinserted her “Wait” sign to let Doc know that we hadn’t deserted him. In the picture that Izzy was going to paint, the DPS would conclude that a desperate dissident doctor had used a concealed sawing tool to free himself and then had tried to skydive to safety, fortunately killing himself in the process. The copter‘s film of Doc falling to his death would give him a measure of safety from any further pursuits by the DPS and Izzy had built that into the plan deliberately. We could have snatched him out of the copter quite easily, but not without raising questions of where he had gone. All we had to do was land Doc safely on the ground while making it appear that he had died on impact. Oh, and before that, we had to prevent the copter pilot from shooting Doc while he was plummeting to the ground. Surprisingly, given the challenges, I thought Izzy would actually pull it off.
# # # # # # # #
After forty-five minutes of peering at the ground rolling towards us, Izzy finally saw what she wanted. Her Free your feet sign alerted Doc and made sure that the foot chain would stay in the cabin. The Count to twenty and jump sign gave me enough time to move the sling out of Doc’s way.
We slid below Doc's spread-eagled body while the pilot was turning the copter around. I timed the speed of our descent so that it was a little slower than Doc’s descent. The sling was in a horizontal position with both of us lying on our backs and looking up at Doc. With the baffles open, Izzy was able to reassure Doc that we were below him. She told him the rest of the plan right then and there.
When Doc’s body touched the sling, Izzy put her hands through the force field, undid Doc’s belt, and pulled both loose ends into the sling and then redid the ends of the belt so that she had a loop to hang onto. I closed the baffles tightly enough that Doc was temporarily anchored to the sling and cut all power to the sling’s vertical lift so that we would fall at exactly the speed of a sky-diving body. I maintained some sideways power so that Doc’s body would fall towards the lake Izzy had chosen for him to die in.
We left Doc in a skydiving posture long enough for the copter to catch up to us. As expected, they stayed above him so that the camera in the belly of the fuselage could record his fall. We let them film for a while, but knew that they would be getting worried when they saw the lake that Doc was apparently aiming for. Izzy said, “Wobble,” so I started dipping the sling from side to side, while Izzy was hanging onto the ends of Doc’s belt so that he wouldn’t slip off. Izzy told Doc to flail his hands and legs around like he was frightened and I made the dips even more extreme so that it would appear that Doc was close to losing control. The copter backed off a bit – they were still filming but if they were going to make a strafing run, they’d have to do it soon. I knew Izzy was watching and wouldn’t give them the chance.
The copter banked to the left and I heard Izzy yell, “Dive, Will!” She reached through the force field, grabbed Doc’s left knee and pulled it into the sling, all the time maintaining a tight grip on his belt. I pulled Doc’s right elbow through the force field and then spun and flipped the sling towards the ground in a death plunge that was too quick for the copter to catch us.
At ten-seconds before impact, I ensured that the sling was underneath Doc. At eight-seconds before impact, I cut all spin so that Doc was falling face first. At seven-seconds, both Izzy and I pushed Doc’s knee and elbow out of the sling. At five-seconds, I closed the baffles completely – no water could get in and no belt could get out. At four-seconds, I activated the sling’s lift function to significantly slow our entry. Just before we hit the water, I drove the sling to the bottom of the lake making a huge splash in the process.
As the lake bubbled up around us, I kept the sling pressed down against the lake bed, opened the baffles, and waited for water to fill about half the sling before closing the baffles again and letting us drift slowly and naturally to the surface. Full of air, we could have popped completely out of the water – something that a human body would never do. Doc’s face was pressed against the surface of the sling. He had air bulges in both cheeks and was making little hand waves at us to tell us that he was all right. We felt Doc’s body broach the surface and I put enough downward power onto the sling to hold it under water. Doc could turn his head enough to get a few good breaths. Meanwhile, both Izzy and I had our faces pressed against the top of the sling and we were taking deep breaths in the little pocket of air that remained there. We felt the current take us towards the falls at the outlet of the lake.
Since we were under water, visibility was almost nil in the sling, however we could hear the roar of the falls approaching. Once again, Izzy and I pulled a knee and an elbow into the sling and I waited until we were falling before pushing Doc’s body to the outside edge of the cascade of water so that the copter could see him falling. Then, I re-immersed us into the heavy deluge and made a slow, controlled descent to the boulders marking the base of the falls. As expected, a small cave had been carved out of the cliff face by the surging water. Izzy and I released our hold on Doc’s clothes and body and he slid off the sling and into wet safety.
Izzy had planned one last piece of disinformation. She stepped out of the sling into the cave and helped Doc remove his shirt. She placed Doc’s shirt on the outside of the sling and I pulled the sleeves and the tail through the force field. I closed the baffles down tight, and flew into the turmoil at the bottom of the falls where I lodged Doc’s upper body next to a large boulder that could be seen only occasionally in the spray and mist of the falls. From time to time, I could see the copter circling but knew that they couldn’t come too close because of the buffeting air around the falls. I waited a full fifteen-minutes after they left before returning to the cave with the shirt. Both Doc and Izzy were shivering so we couldn’t stay long. However, Doc gave me an exuberant manly hug as well as a heartfelt thank you. I also received a hug from Izzy and a whole bunch of whispers – "Thank you, Will.” Her teary smile told me that she was already close to the edge. So, when she put her lips against mine in a soft, tingly touch, I made sure that my kiss wouldn’t cause her to cry and run away.
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Chapter 3
From Izzy's journals: November 5, 2081.
It was strange. Doc’s rescue, that is. Right from the beginning, I had myself under control. I knew that if we failed, Doc would be tortured; knew that we might accidentally reveal our secret weapon; knew that I hardly any time to make a plan. Still, I never thought about that. I saw the plan clear in my head; told Will everything. Thank goodness, he didn’t argue. I really appreciated that; couldn’t have handled an argument with Will while Doc’s life was on the line.
The operation went perfectly. I wasn’t even scared when the water in the sling reached my nose; knew Will was watching everything and he wouldn’t let us drown. Even when I was helping Doc off with his shirt in the tiny hole behind the falls, and he was shaking and had that look of being old and vulnerable, – I still was in control of myself. Why was it then that I turned into a blubbering idiot ages after the danger was over and Will was disappearing into the mists of the falls? I mean, one minute I’m the calm, cool strategist and the next minute I’m bawling my eyes out into Doc’s bare chest.
Doc said something about post stress reaction; said he had it too; said his legs were still shaking; said it didn’t mean anything. It was just a biological reaction to stress.
I agreed it might be that partly, but there was more; knew that I wouldn’t have much time alone with Doc; snuffled my way through everything that was wrong.
I told Doc how Will and I couldn’t agree on strategy; how Will would always take forever to make up his mind – which I didn’t mind. Sometimes I make up my mind too quickly; good to have a more reasoned approach too. But, after Will makes up his mind, he won’t change it. And, because all of his deliberations are done inside his head, I can’t convince him to change his mind because I don’t know why he decided the way he did. He offers to print out his mental spreadsheet, but all he has on it is numbers! I ask him for his reasons. Will says that Math is math, as though that makes his decision automatically right. I tell him that you can’t make decisions solely based on probability analysis and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. So, I end up being argumentative, and he becomes stubborn, and we just walk away and find something to do by ourselves because neither of us wants to fight.
I also told Doc that I was worried about Will’s anger. He’s been without his brain-band for months now. Wouldn’t he be able to control his emotions by now? But, he's not! Will used to kiss me gently. Then, we had our arguments; now he kisses me so hard that it hurts. He denies that he’s angry with me; but why is he using kisses to hurt me? Now, I try to avoid his kisses whenever I can. Wouldn’t that tell him that I don’t like him mangling my lips?
Doc listened, but we didn’t have any chance to talk about it. When Will came back to the cave, I wanted to thank him properly for saving my volunteer-father; raised my lips to his; found out that he’s still angry at me.
# # # # # # # #
One sling wasn’t big enough to transport three people invisibly, so I said that I would shuttle each of them back to our base camp separately. Will said that he didn’t mind staying in the cave; said that Doc and I should go first because we were shivering. Doc suggested that we camp in British Columbia tonight because it was closer and safer. I retrieved my pinky-computer from Will, bundled Doc into the sling, and headed west.
Airborne, the sling heated up quickly and we both felt better. Doc told me that three agents had been waiting for him at the lake and jumped him after he had built the fire. Doc saw them coming in time to drop the special log onto the flames. The agents hadn’t known who Doc was – just that he was an aboriginal dissident without a brain-band walking through Alberta's woods. Doc had no idea how they had found him.
I was digesting that information when the trees beneath our flight path abruptly ended. I flipped the sling into a U-turn and stopped. At least fifty-meters of forest in front of us had been clear-cut, and I mean entirely clear-cut. The line of trees I was hovering over ended in a perfectly straight north-south line. Part way into the cleared zone, a solid-looking wire barrier attached to high metal towers extended as far north and south as I could see. A second set of towers and a wire fence ran parallel to the first but about twenty-meters away.
I hovered and scanned for traps. We agreed the fences were made of barbed wire with razor wire on top and motion detection cameras were bound to be in the nearby trees. Large wooden signs warned of land mines in the soil between the two fences. Doc knew from dissident arms smugglers that the IOF had installed a big fence blocking access into British Columbia a long time ago; the smugglers hadn’t said anything about a parallel set of fences with landmines buried in between.
Manufacturing metal towers would take a tremendous amount of electricity. Alberta has some hydro-electricity plants; however, the IOF relies almost exclusively on solar power because our winters are so mild and the summers positively boiling. Producing enough metal to install a fence along the IOF’s entire western border would have meant power shortages for everyone. Doc asked why I thought Zzyk would have installed fences on only the western border.
The reason for my U-turn was because I didn’t know if the DPS had installed any exotic electronic devices on the border. Will had identified several ways that the sling could be detected – thermal imaging being one of them. So, I lifted the sling as high as it could manage before tiptoeing slowly across the border. Two valleys later, I set Doc down next to a small lake surrounded by dense vegetation. All of the Aboriginal Nation land appeared like that. A solid cover of trees everywhere with no signs of habitation anywhere.
When I returned with Will, it was dusk and Doc had lit a small fire. Will and I had no food or supplies of any kind with us – everything was back at our base camp. Doc had lost his pack when he was captured. We figured one night without food wouldn’t hurt us. Alberta winters did tend to be cool in the mountains. The Aboriginal Nation would be no different. At least we’d be safe.
# # # # # # # #
We were lounging against a big fallen tree in front of the fire – Doc on my left side, Will on my right. I was snuggled into Will’s chest, half-dozing, while Doc told Will about the cameras and the fences. Will started to talk about how the new tactics wouldn’t be effective against us, but Doc shushed him right away. “Don’t tell me anything I don’t need to know,” he said. Will nodded and there was an awkward silence. I was half expecting – dreading actually – that Doc would launch into one of his corny campfire songs when he surprised me.
“Looking at the two of you cuddled up like that has made me realize that I haven’t done my fatherly duty. The two of you left so quickly after the wedding ceremony and I never thought about it until now.”
I didn’t have the foggiest idea what Doc was up to; partly a function of being hypnotized half-asleep by the soothing sound of Will’s heartbeat.
“Will, has anyone ever told you how babies are created?”
If I could have burrowed under the tree . . . Not now, Doc, I thought. Not with me here!
Will said he had done the required reading and told Doc about the geneticist, the Petri dish, the gestation incubator and was warming up to the topic when Doc interrupted.
“Will, I didn’t mean how the IOF manufactures babies, I meant how real people create real babies.”
There was a long silence. I was going to wait for somebody to start talking and then I’d crawl on my belly into the darkness.
“You do know that Melissa is a fertile woman, right? You know that she’s different from IOF women and can have babies.”
Now they’re going to talk about my fertility?
“Yeah, I guess I knew that. Izzy never told me that, but I figured it out when she wouldn’t take her shirt off in front of me. IOF girls don’t worry about that because IOF girl chests are exactly like IOF boy chests; but Izzy did worry about taking off her shirt. So that meant she had something to hide, but I still don’t know exactly what. One time she took
off all of her clothes in front of me, but ... Ow! Ow! Izzy! Ow!”
I was pounding Will’s ribs as hard as I could. “I did not take off all my clothes in front of you, and you couldn’t see anything anyway because your eyes were shut, and you knew that if you had peeked, I would have blinded you for life. Be sure you tell Doc that.”
Doc ignored me. “So, you know Melissa is different from IOF girls, but not how?”
“Well, she has, you know, two bulges under her shirt.”
I gave Will two more blows to the ribs. “How would you know? You have never seen anything and you have never touched anything. Tell Doc that! Repeat after me! I have never…”
“But Izzy, I can feel them when you hug me.”
“Doc, not one finger, I swear. Not one finger. Not one fingernail. Not one fingernail molecule!”
They both stared at me in curiosity until I wound down.
“So, what do you think has to happen for Melissa to have babies, Will?”
“Uhh, she’d probably go to a geneticist who would…”
“Melissa, you’ve had some instruction in how babies are created. Why don’t you tell Will what he needs to know.”
“DOC!!!” I was speechless. I stammered and stuttered some gibberish and got up to leave. A girl doesn’t explain the facts of life to her… to her boyfriend. There, I admit it. To her boyfriend. Doc grabbed my arm as I walked by, pulled himself up, put an arm around my shoulder and walked me away from the fire.
“Melissa,” he said into my ear. “You and Will have to find a way to discuss things so that you can resolve your problems. The only way that you can sort out the difficulties you’re having is by learning how to talk together about serious issues. This is a perfect topic to practice on because it is so important to both of you. Keep it simple and keep it scientific. That’s all Will is interested in. He won’t think it’s unusual for you to explain this to him. After all, you explain all sorts of other things to him, don’t you?”