Mobile Gundum: Mercury Rising (pictureless version) A young man encounters the fringes of technology as he dreams to become a fighter pilot in a new age. He slowly uncovers a righteous path which takes deep heart and courage, as he discovers the limits to his physical world, clearing a path for others to follow. He eventually pilots his way through the deepest charted areas of space while he simultaneously uncovers inner workings of the politics in the time in which a war machine and the holders of peace are dispute within a constant physical and intellectual battle. Love and life is on the line as the hero becomes confronted with his dreams. The hero and his best friend Andy M. find themselves immersed in a world of harsh encounters and twisted endings. They must each find a place within the world while living through dreams, always following their conscience. Our hero will step blindly with huge strides, taking the world head on in a match of wits and comedy.


Mobile Gundum

Ross D. Kelly

      I was ascended by the lift up to the scaffolding around this giant angel. It had the shape of a man, with wings outstretched, clearly for antigravity purposes. This had to be the latest of the single man ships equipped to fight in any galactic wars. Its power held me awed as the lift creaked against its own weight, moving me toward the head, several stories in the air. It looked fast enough to fly through a city throughout all the blocks to the next habitable land in seconds. The silence it emanated was almost as powerful as its appearance, combined from white and darkened grey panels across the body segments.
      The arms ended in agile fingers, ready to pull the trigger on the huge black cannon readied on its back. I stood at its eye level with the scientist, who declared that it was fueled and ready for test flight.
      I had no idea how this giant came to existence or how many of these exist, but I knew that it was being entitled to me for a reason of which I would quickly understand. Attached to the giant from the second they spoke to me, the scientist explained the call to summon the robotic arms. One hand outstretched, its palm up to the sky, reaching down toward me.
      I as I studied the mechanical eyes, its hand deliberately moved towards me, without any menace, that I knew it was now in my control. I stepped into the palm and it moved me to the cockpit door, at the center where the diaphragm may be if it were a real beast. The very process of entering the machine was monumental on my view of human’s grace in our new age as warriors.
       Elevated into the cockpit in the head, I looked through the visor out of the eyes while simultaneously looking at computer screens to the left and right. Above the image of the scientist flickered on to a third screen with an intercom. He explained the controls, which seemed to be seamlessly designed in the cockpit for the human form.
      It allowed me to turn the body and face the hanger door, which opened. With the slight push of one throttle the gundum hovered out silently, then shot into the sky as my face pulled by the pressure of the rockets. I nearly blacked out rising high into the atmosphere, now weary of my position and potential to hit other aircraft.
I       I was alone with my good friend, Andy, speeding along a wet and dreary highway.
      The lights bounced off the moisture, glazing over our eyes as the sedan hummed forward, pulling the road under us. We were talking over a recent guerilla terrorist attack against the citizens of an industrial town in Germany. Speaking of the news which said that an uprising the region was calling for a change in authority within the Eastern Union.
      Our lives were changing because of the threat of violence, and although we lived across an entire ocean, the uprising continued to grow in portion, encompassing small outposts in most of the European countries with a large unified government. Most felt secure under the large umbrella government which had formed after years of treaty and declarations of peace within the region, which was why this guerilla violence seemed controversial, even between my best friend and me.
      Many people believed that freedom was found through small government with unimposing authority over the people. They called themselves freedom fighters, but they did seem to cause more casualties than the larger bureaucratic government. These people continued to resist the growing world powers from within, even taking to arms in a display for the distaste of the impersonal government control.
      Andy and I disagreed over the justification of violence in this case. My belief was that freedom safety must be maintained by the public, and the decision to fight comes from this perspective of thought.
      Andy saw violence as a problem and viewed the government as natural peacekeepers within a society, not understanding the reasons to revolt very well in his case. I understood his side as best I could, seeing that he had no natural enemy, and he would never have to fight, should he not choose to.
      In my opinion he did not see the involvement of authority in society as an institution which needs to be kept in constant check by the people to assure the right action on its behalf.
      We were however almost arriving at a large house, in a clear open scene, ready to put on our jackets and casual smiles, meeting with our good friends and our ladies of the night. Andy had a tuxedo hanging from the back of the Mercedes window. The large engine was at a muffled idle as we pulled up to the valet, and I put my jacket over my shoulders, tucking the white shirt nicely as I stood up.
      Already inside, the cocktails were in hand as many people took sips and said hello. Through my mind I pictured the drinking, the talking, meeting with the people as we all went home different people. I had an interest in many of my rowdy old friends, but also on one woman in particular with whom I had not spoken in a while. I hoped for the best, and knew I would at least hit it off well before I left and looked for my next destination, where I could try again if I needed.

      Although the temperature was dropping to a harsh cold, we loved to remain outside as the people moved indoors for the season, Andy and
I.


      I was alone thinking, I have to have a good night tonight while everyone else was comfortable at home. I was with my gracious friend as he drove me through high class politics and simple humanist disgruntle. We knew the party was going to last for the night, so we stayed indoors for the moment, sharing the warmth of good friends and good people. In his high class luxury, I found little more than a pleasant life to which material possessions were meaningless as long as the mood and the general shelter remained the same. The sedan was waiting for him to drop me at home as Andy fled home to rest, his trail completely hidden within the brush of both our minds and the literal surrounding. I continued on to my own home, after I shut the door, and walked the few steps up to my front door, turning the key, stepping into my friendly and quaint wooded home.
      He didn’t focus a single thought toward the dark sky but his mind instead wandered pervasively through the road as he drove my tall Range Rover back home from his job, carefully winding the car through turns, making idle talk to himself, pressing the wheels against the ground as he rounded each one in control, safely.
      Any night in the fall, just as this night, could bring such weather, but there was intensity behind the clouds that I sensed with a bit of quickening in the air and a light pleasant hum. Maxwell however drove on, anxious to return my car after the previous night, although his strength could never stop increasing rapidly, he knew the battle for the night was over and it would have to be continued another day.
      The car continued to accelerate towards my home for the night.
      He handed me the keys in my driveway, talking as the night closed for both of us, and we spoke of meeting later in the week. We were good friends with similar goals, although our paths are very different, with the exception of one particular day, in which they would collide in entirety.
      Together, I felt like making the best of our time, so we were always in the right spot, working towards an exciting future. We would do well in class, then play a sport, suiting up for a night with some ladies. As he took his leave, this night became more than mundane. I liked the predictable times with little pressure. However, I always find it necessary to plan events in my near future. I lived for the excitement, but I didn’t find life tiresome without it.
      It was cold, and was coated with a dark layer of gray fog which prevented any vision through the atmosphere to the top of the sky. We were just two bodies shielded from the road on the at a cold luminous home on my private road.
      The car was warm and humming. I directed Andy to my garage where he found his Mercedes, without a speck of dust, flawless as the night before. He drove home quickly where he went to relax in his surrounding, talking to his family.
      I was invited by the road, but even more by the sky, calling me. I saw him drive off my home became silent yet again. The cold cement building stood tall in the driveway, near my basketball hoop over the connected garage. I knew I wasn’t going to stay home tonight. It was a sort of feeling which comes before you expect something big. I just looked up at the dark skies, seeing stars, a few airplanes, and possibly a satellite. Turning around, I looked at my home.
      The door was unlocked, and I went inside the house with central heat, moving into my kitchen. I was thinking about the past two weeks, trying to get my past into perspective. An interesting call from my boss made life a little more intense. I was getting through many steps of my work and training with his help. I would be going back to work again Monday, the very next day.


      I was looking forward to the ceremony tonight, having my own suit and tie dressed for me in the car, but it was fun to take in Andy’s pleasant nature along with me. His mind started to wander to his lighted house, only a few bends up the suburban road, riddled with trees and beautifully wooden shingled houses.
      It was only a few street lights down from my own. I unfortunately was bound by service to the area at an army airstrip while he was only a pilot for recreation. We both had promise in the field of flying, as Andy M. scored well on government’s standards.
      He was about to pull up to and over a curb and into a shaded driveway next to one of these fine old classic houses. The car shot over the small incline and instantly grabbed the higher ground, skidding with intention to a stop. He had put the car into park and its usual parking place, beneath a light shining by the door. He then light up the dark pavement as he moved himself through the driveway into the house. The driveway was a lopsided circle with a garden, paved by hand.
      Andy exited his car and walked down the driveway and turned right towards the front door, where, the glimmering reflected image of the stairs shown brightly into his steady eyes from a light beneath a small inclined roof, above the door. Andy M. hopped the steps one at a time, and then, leaning forward stepping up the stairs to unlock the door and entered his otherwise dark house.

      I sat at the airport, ready to take the next order for the flight out. I saw mostly small jets coming down the strip, although a few supply ships landed on the runway as well. There didn’t seem to be any rush to the army base otherwise.
      I was excited, yet had the patience to wait through years of more training before demanding to take another ship out of here. Rumor had it there was a new shipment coming in as Napoleon informed me. One or possibly two versions of a new sort of jet. We were planning on scoping them out as they came in the land. I was directing flights from my jet as air traffic control for the civilian planes. But dealing with lettuce carrying freighter airplanes is less than exciting, so I joined the armed forces.
      There was a lot to be said about the interesting social life while sitting around a dinner table in the armed forces with commanders and colonels. The food was good but the thrills were better. I was eating like a king and pushing my body with training every day.
      It only takes a few years


      Walking by sheer memory, Andy M. swiftly moved through a reception room filled with dark red hues and one tall, cozy, rug which was ever shifting under the feet. The house was also cozy, and though Andy currently lived alone; it was always assuring to have such a secure and warm place to return to. Navigating through the room, the lights abruptly switched on causing images to momentarily form within Andy’s sight as he continued through the room and toward the kitchen. He was ready to turn in, knowing his girlfriend was already asleep. The pictures slowly faded as the light settled into his eyes. A bright countertop took the place of the pictures which had momentarily clouded his sight.
      He lived well, and kept his business favorably about him. The kitchen of the house was full of wood and hanging pots and pans. It had light marble counters and a tiled floor. Andy washed a favorite frying pan in the large white sink.
      Tossing it on a lit flame on the stove, the water slowly sizzled away, as Andy buttered the pan and then proceeded to cook some sausage to mix with spaghetti and sauce, accompanied with a side of freshly made garlic bread from the oven. He was wondering what Grace, his fiancé had done all day with her time. Her sweet embrace was waiting in bed, tired from the high energy days she put herself through.
      Sipping back on some wine with his dinner, Andy thought how grateful he was for such a house, Andy and said some other thanks for the blessing of a car which he drove. He was so content for the moment before he turned in to sleep. He was a fan of cooking things from scratch whenever it was convenient, mostly for the sake of taste, the effort not need be considered.
      Andy M. had a well paying job within a local large scale produce firm through which he could collect an assortment of discounted fresh foods, and also afford a moderately sized home.
      During the weekend he toyed with his assortment of cherished vehicles. He had an aching in his bones that kept him moving. His day was most exhilarating when he could sit down and drive down a long road, passing into the future while different places whizzed by his slow life.
      I pulled off my jacket and hung it on the wall. She was eyeing me from across the room, looking down, then back at me, lifting her lashes with a hint of a smile. She leaned in and took a deep breath. I could not move. I wanted to lean in, but I was transfixed, looking into her eyes. She took the few inches between us with a brisk peck on my lips. Her soft lips were ever so slightly moist, and closed upon my still face. She pecked my mouth, closing her own, then leaned back and turned away. I longed for her to look over her shoulder as she took a few steps away. Without thinking, I leapt forward and grabbed her shoulder before she could leave.

      But for now, he enjoyed to be still and to dine with his meal while watching the news on a small television screen in the kitchen, pondering the political situation and his world, not bothering to sit down at the table. Leaning forward on the counter, Andy watched the news flash colorful pictures in the dim room from the ongoing war. It was mostly a religious conflict, though many ideals of the United States were at stake which dragged citizens of Andy’s stature into the war. He knew his fiancée did not want him to get dragged into the battles, and he rather regretted that it may have to be a possibility. He was anxious about being dragged into battle, but he knew as long as he kept his job and continued school, he would be able to stay at home with her, and they could continue life as it went.
      Andy watched with displeasure as his own opinions of the war conflicted with the strategies displayed by the news. Many people misunderstood the need for war in today’s world, said Andy in his mind. People figured that isolationism would be the proper technique to today’s warfare when more violence could be suppressed by large armies in stalemate. In Andy’s mind both sides were upholding the laws. He saw war as some sort of technological game which was being waged between two superpowers. The casualties were so low now that he knew it was nearly a time of complete ceasefire. Warfare however continued, and Andy considered the risk it held.
      However, many protesters still chose to continue to picket against the war. They felt that violence was never an answer, though in Andy’s mind, it inherently was part of human nature. The media unwittingly proved this by constantly portraying the war in the news, never turning our eyes away from it where we could realize peace. It was played so much that it was almost dulled in everyone’s mind as normal.
      He preferred to think that his own home could be his castle, safe from all intrusion, including the government. He could not see any reason to allow war to violate to the constitution, especially with its inherent longevity. His ideals contributed to his distaste for violence, yet he still found the war necessary to keep the fighting across seas, letting the focus of war against the liberal United States to be far away from its shores.
      As a charter pilot, he and his fiancée were living strongly, out of sight of the war. Andy D. felt empowered in his place in the civilian world. He finished his meal in the cozy kitchen, then retired to bed.
      I was across and down the lighted street, green with envy for the civilian life which Andy D. had. Yet, I still held an excitement for my life in the armed services. I was excelling in the tests, and quickly had gathered experience and licenses for restricted airspace to fly jets. The adrenaline from the daily life of a research pilot held its own share of intensity. He was, however, lucky to have a steady house and someone to come home to.
      I was due back at the airstrip at seven hundred hours in the morning, so I made the most of my sleep, only a few hours at best.

      I pulled the coupe to a halt in front of a large hanger door, in the center of the private enclosed military base off the coast of Southern California. The ground was starting to warm up for the day as I closed the car door behind me, and slide open the large white rolling doors.
      Sitting in the middle of the hanger was my vixen thunderbird, jet turbine. The wings swooped forward with a high performance angle of attack, sleek and fast.
      I drove under the wing and to the back wall. Getting out, I pulled the canopy open, dropping in onto the seat, checking the engine, and calling contact, I pulled out to the taxiway.
      Sitting at the throttle of the machine warmed by body in the early in the morning just after I had breakfast. Nervous by the treat of the event of an attack, the war was causing violations, so Andy and I thought it was necessary for only particular reasons.
      Most people heard of the isolated horror stories within the war, though on the large scale, fairly little was still happening. On the North American’s side, advanced technology resulted in next to zero lives lost during the conflict and the death toll of citizens had dropped since the beginning of the war although the war was still highly apposed in the media. The countries allied in this region firmly believed in passivism to the largest extent; however, they still armed forces within the Middle East as a focus for inflicted hate in the world.
      It wasn’t the same story for the other side, which fought using guerilla techniques in most major battles and largely supported the war through media. A significant number of causalities came from terrorist tactics and suicide bombings. These tactics angered Andy the most. He could not acknowledge a radical set of beliefs which provoked the death of its members, and excused it with more deaths of those outside the fanatic group.
      But, I felt some confidence being inside the cockpit of a jet owned by the strongest nation on the planet, problems insignificant inside.
      I was ready to take off for the day, looking forward to the long one ahead, which happened to end in a banquet to promote a new officer, in which a rumor of a new troop to be created was hanging around.

      So, Andy turned off the television. He was tired, and was considering whether to watch entertainment TV and inevitably sleep on the couch, or to go straight to bed. His intuition said that the couch was a fine place to sleep the night away; however this decision abruptly was interrupted as he recognized the sound of a jet overhead of his house.
      Attracted to such incidents, he became alert quickly. He listened for a moment before he was able to notice that the sound of the jet seemed to be still, with no motion. He was hardly breathing as he listened to this curious sound with all of his attention. The momentary thought of danger instantly faded as his logical conclusion and interest took control of his body. A rush of adrenaline excited his mind, driving the nervousness away, as he froze, standing with his back arched, resting of the front of his feet.
      As Andy wondered about the type of aircraft that could create such a noise, the sound disappeared. A tired mood overcame his state of mind, leaving Andy to let his interest go and turn in for the night. He slept in his bed until the early hours, ready to go to work, again, in the morning.


II

      Napoleon sat at the airport, on duty, as he was for the majority of the year, being an active officer in the naval branch of the United World Government. He was maintaining piece in countries with guerilla war and terrorist threat, as all citizens of the government deserved the respect of peace in all regions of their world.
      He was driving the jeep across the taxiway of the airport, speeding down to the last hanger in the furthest row to the back of the airport. With a large brass key he unlocked the large front gate and opened the hanger doors back to the side. It revieled his airplane and service shuttle for maintenance above the stratosphere.
      There is no fog today as Andy suits up for work. He is calm and collected. Having good night of rest, he is looking forward to the long winding road toward work. The rush of driving through the streets at speeds calms Andy, letting his heart rate slow, and his reaction times quicken. He rushed out the front door, and turned left, briskly walking toward his car. He buckled his seatbelt, pressing down his shirt and tie, organizing himself.

      Napoleon was miles away from Andy, and did not even stop to think that their two days were about to become severely intertwined. But this day, the government decided to act, and was going to try to simultaneously collect the two along with another figure whom they hoped to manipulate into their cause.
      It is going to be a casual day at work, perhaps even enjoyable; sitting still with work to be done makes time cruise by without much haste or stress for him. Staying still is a different kind of experience for Andy than driving or flying or piloting any sort of automobile. Much happens during the work day for Andy, but the time feels constant, whereas; in an automobile, the thrill of accelerating and decelerating along with chemicals pumping through the body makes time seem to slow and speed at different rates. So, sitting still at work calmed Andy in a way which focusing on a single immobile task could do. So he headed on his way.
      Backing out of the driveway, he made sure to listen and check to see if the road was clear, and being clear, he put the car into drive, and straightened out down the road, watching the trees speed past him. He knew the every feeling the road and the car and the gravity and the air; he recognized that being in motion was where he wanted to be.
      His hands were steady on the wheel as he pulled into the parking lot of his work, rolling the car around a corner and into a parking space, stopping with intention. Andy drove quickly at times, but he always put extra attention to stopping abruptly. So, just as carefully as he had parked, Andy dropped out of the Range Rover to the ground, heels clicking against the ground as he briskly turned to step towards the office building. He fell into his chair with a half turn, and leaned over his desk. The papers weren’t intimidating.
      There were more papers than usual today, but Andy would always finish his work quickly with careful planning. He would always finish the orders before he filled out summary forms, and he always put the summary forms before his own break time.
      He was popular at work for his extra effort at break where he would relax and chat with fellow employees, possibly lending a hand for work. It was calming. His boss would always check in after he took a break, strategizing the best way to market their fruits and vegetables, keeping up with seasons and the retail stores to which the foods were to be delivered. His name was Mathew Jupiter.
      He pulled both throttles to full, spinning backward in space. The burners were trusting through his body pulling him into the seat, at near black-out speeds. He fired three shots at a target over a mile out in space. The target jumped behind him yet again, as he pushed the suit forward, spinning upside-down pulling the beam cannon trigger yet again, but the shield on the enemy arm deflected one as it moved in on him, dodging the other two shots.
      They pulled forward as Andy M. sat in the cockpit, considering the next move. He pulled the left arm over to the right, pulling a pole into the air as a green beam of light shot out into the shape of a sword. He swung upwardly at the face of the enemy suit. The enemy countered, blocking the sword with his own yellow beam, but shot a rifle blast from the left hand into the gut of Andy’s suit, hitting the cockpit doors. Andy’s suit was disoriented as he tried to turn and shoot his own gun. Another two shots hit directly into his chest. The suit was malfunctioning, so Andy slammed his hand down on the self-destruct button, and with a white flash, the suit exploded into tiny pieces.

      Mr. Jupiter was relatively tall and always full talk and ambition. He arched his shoulders back and slicked his hair in the same fashion every day. It waved upwardly in back, the top raising away from the rest of the hair on the back of his head, which fell downwardly. This wave constantly grew in degree as the slick wore off during the day. Both Andy and Mr. Jupiter got along surprisingly well. They were also strikingly similar in appearance and build, except without the same slicked hair.
      It was undoubtedly those two men who helped boost Jupiter Produce to the top of their market. Their work time was filled with intention although they also both had habits of slacking off. The day never had to last too long to Andy. He always finished his fair share of work, allowing him to excuse himself from his work, early, if he pleased. Mr. Jupiter never objected with this, and in fact he often tried to skip out early along with Andy whenever possible, having a chat in the parking lot, leaving the workers alone and without assistance as they wandered out in the late afternoon.
      This habit of finishing work with such ease impressed those around Andy, and made him popular among co-workers. He was always quick to finish the work. Always, before he knew it, it was time to go home, or on this particular day, it was time for Andy to head to a local pub to drink with one of his good buddies.

III

      The pub was cool and dimly lit. Rotary fans hung above the customers, and a young yet responsible bartender stood behind the bar. There was a row of mostly empty cushioned bar stools, except at one familiar spot, where Andy spotted Napoleon. He was already sipping on a full frothy beer, chatting with the bartender, laughing with his familiar grin and wrinkled forehead. Andy walked briskly, taking well placed steps, one in front of the other, until Napoleon caught his image out of the corners of his eyes. He looked over the top of his glasses, partly rolling his eyes as he speedily wrapped up his antics with the bartender, and turned to greet Andy, stretching out a large slightly shaky hand to his friend.
      Andy shook Napoleon’s hand, as best friends, they both clenched hard and grinned.
      “Hey one more for my brother, he just walked in the door,” said Napoleon with a large, unrestrained smile, while he clenched his eyes into small slits.
      “Of course, barkeep; you know the deal.” said Andy. He was referring to a long time deal between Napoleon and himself. Andy never had much to drink, always staying well under the legal limit. His passion for the road kept him sober, even when he and Napoleon were trying to wittily engage in a conversation with pretty women. And, with few women in sight, and a long road to navigate back, the deal would still apply tonight.
      This deal encompassed another few factors; Andy always paid for Napoleon’s drinks, easily keeping up on the tab, though Napoleon could guzzle more than a car. Andy would always also drive Napoleon home after the pub. In return, Napoleon would find spontaneous ways to make up for the favors whenever he came up with some crazy concoction. His latest gift was the stunning Range Rover in the parking lot, with Napoleon’s special touch: a rebuilt and finely tuned engine.
      “Well what the hell, I’m feeling up to an early night tonight boys. I’ll take that drink now, but maybe I’ll tack another one on when I turn in tonight at home,” Andy said to the bartender and his best buddy from childhood.
      As the night wore on, the conversation lifted to a quiet and low rumble of the few patrons left who could commit to the long hours of a pub life. With no trouble to Andy, a heated debate between the two friends had run on longer than an early night while drinks piled up, and the final consensus was that Napoleon was a bit past his prime of the night, and they would agree to disagree. Andy stuck to his first drink although a few cranberry juices and a cigarette or two had been thrown in the mix. So, with the night gone, they left for the road back to their respective homes.
      On the homeward trip, Napoleon dazed out, but silently kept his head about him. He would take all in at once, while only God could know where the thoughts ended up. The thoughts were deep, but assuredly good and to well intent in their ends. He was so smart that it was an oddity that he appeared so average in every way. Napoleon was the master of small talk and good conversation, though he would often follow Andy’s deep intellectual conversation, with it hard to tell whether he was at the same pace, or even ahead of the words spoken. They were brothers to a deep degree.
      So, one friend dropped the other off in an oval driveway next to a tall one story house with large windows in the front. The shades were pulled at various and random angles, some tilted, though all aimed to block the morning sun which rose in the east, in direct target of the kitchen and one bedroom. The front of the house was like a painting, so well maintained that it appeared to be an art made of oil. The center of the driveway was filled with a garden of various plants, including two tall trees which leaned away from each other, though very close by the roots.
      In the driveway one car was parked outdoors toward the far left bend. The Acura was rustic and old, from the late eighties, passed from father to son, still in the original care of owners. Although it had been clearly used to great extent, it also appeared as if it received perfect care in its later years. The upholstery was original brown suede. The car had seen a lot of years of driving, yet was tuned well on the whole, just as its driver.
      The house matched the car showing its age yet neatness. The tall one story house was full of chandeliers, expensive figurines, and priceless art. While the home was relatively spread out, it was not ready a home for children.
      So, Napoleon collectively stumbled out of the car, always glad to have a friend to spend time with at the pub, and to care for him afterwards. At once, Napoleon paused a while as he looking back at Andy, grimacing, ready to say goodbye and head back into the tall house with his favorite pieces of art. But in the moment of this pause, a familiar sound was in the air.
      Andy heard a noise which was still and quiet, yet showing very little variation in tone. Interested, Andy hopped out of the car and looked up to the sky, seeing very little. It was a clear and dark night but still it was hard to make out anything at depths in the darkness, although he now recognized the sound to be very close to the two friends in altitude.
      Napoleon mimicked Andy, slightly joking at first, until at once, Napoleon concentrated and they both looked into the eyes of the sound. It was mechanical, like the sound of many small jets, or the hum of an engine from inside a well insulated car. Napoleon recognized this sound to be abnormal at once as well, though neither had a clue as to its origin.
      They both could see nothing. They didn’t know what to expect; neither of them could. So, Napoleon turned away and went back into his house, while Andy, slightly more interested, stared a good long while. He did not move, and the sound, unflinching, stayed there until he decided to leave, slowly driving away in his snug car.
      He had pulled away from the oval driveway and turned towards his own house. It was a confusing night, and Andy knew he could not talk this over with anyone, since he had scoped with full attention toward the mysterious noise. The sound and memory of the incident still bothered him the next morning as he had recollected himself, and headed back to work.
      In his office, Andy was silent and contemplative. He was considering work, his social life, and also the incident from the night before. Thoughts wandered in and out of his mind’s eye as people, places, and fantasy mingled. He was particularly interested in the thought of flight, which left an anxious want to discover the origins of the jets he had heard the night before. Through his knowledge of the devices and innovation which were constantly consuming the news along with the war he knew it could be something completely foreign to him along with most of the world.

IV

      Alexander sped across the taxiway of an airport in the remote mountains of California. He hit the accelerator down to the floor as the jeep lurched forward and sped toward an open hanger in the distance. The headlights of the jeep shined ahead, illuminating the grey concrete ground and reflecting light off the metallic props of a large aircraft situated in the center of the hanger. Alexander was wondering if he would find his friend still working on the airplane at such at late hour.
      It was dusk, and the lights for the runway were already illuminating the path for aircrafts to land. Alexander raced ahead, watching soldiers and officers alike running across the way, lining up in front of a mess hall on the right, near the barracks. The base was excited on the whole with word of some mysterious shipment on the way. Even Alexander, so strict in his mindset, was a little jittery from the quickly spreading words.
      As the jeep reached the hanger, Alexander turned quickly and screeched to a halt by the side of the massive door. He hopped over the side of the jeep, briskly landing on his two feet, facing the airstrip. He surveyed the scene from one spot. The mountains were coated with golden yellow grass spotted with trees and short grey shrubs. The pink sun was sinking into the hills, causing a bright glare to shine in Alexander’s eyes as he considered the night ahead.
      Although a loud ruckus was coming from his left, the plentiful aircraft hangers and the mountains seemed to be quiet with little breeze moving through the buildings. It was almost serine while the world stopped for a breath as birds even took a break from the skies. Alexander noted that the whole world seemed to be holding its breath as he did, waiting to hear from his higher officers in the late evening. His excitement matched that of any of the soldiers in line at the mess hall, yet he did not let anxiousness get the better of him in any situation. He was known by his fellow soldiers for his cool composure, even during the hardest flight and combat training.
      Waiting was never hard for Alexander. He turned to the open hanger door and walked inside, slowly watching the building surround him while he listened for the traces of his friend. Finally, he heard the clang of wrench against the side of an open door as Turner pulled his head and body out of the aircraft.
      Alexander could tell, however, that there was plenty happening in the dinning halls. It was teaming out of doors with men conversing with loud shouts over the days action and the excitement on the horizon.
      The training was intensive on this base, even in Alexander’s mind. His physical limits had been pushed over the course of each day, and it only seemed to become harder.
      The men were mostly dressed in either white and grey suits, or standard grey military fatigues. They were roudy, and causing a large ruckus near the dining commons. Alexander checked in with his friend. He was working on the air carrier. They both grabbed a bite to eat in the commons, and were joined by their officers. “I hear there is going to be some training late tonight.” “They will be bringing in some new equipment from the airbase in Texas.” “There will be a selection tonight to determine who will be involved in the testing.” Alexander and Marcus were on the ball, and were excited about the new testing. Jackson and Alexander are sent to follow Andy. “Alexander. Stay back for a moment and come have a chat with me,” said Jackson.

      All was peaceful throughout the United States. The control of the nation was now spread over parts of North and South America as old nations had willfully joined as states and territories during the previous fifty years of reconciliation. Ongoing war between superpowers was isolated and small in scale, but many smaller nations still found it safe and calming to be part of a larger power, such as the US, being protected yet still regaining freedom to legislate within the region.
      The world was now mostly consumed by seven independent superpowers. The seven were engaged in small conflicts throughout the globe. Armored war was constantly in progress, and governments continued to spend a substantial amount of resources for military expenditure. High-tech weapons and vehicles were still manufactured and deployed in battle as violence continued, though almost strictly in the form of moral warfare.
      The few small independent states and nations which remained were empowered by a world government built out of the result of the United Nations and other world powers which were unsuccessful in the past to fully unite the planet. It was now more successful, and though it promoted total passivism between all countries and world powers, it was backed by its own military to ensure that its word was heeded by other nations.
      This United World government encompassed all nations and superpowers in one delegation, but was slow to act on any large issues, and had little control over country’s individual right to hold and maintain military forces. It also had little power to resolve conflict within the major powers since the world was mostly neutral.
      The United States, as a superpower, still stood for the same principals of freedom, liberty, unity, and justice, yet now held much more territory. It still ran under the original power of the republic, and was successful in keeping war out of all of its territories, including the recent territories in space.
      The concept of territory in space was a confusing one. Many space colonies were pushing to gain independent control from nations, and a few were successful. Recently, a Russian colony in space and two from the United British had moved the world parliament and their respective country’s government to accept their right to independently operate under their own government. The two new nations in space now clouded the old ideas of nationality as space-goers now became nationally affiliated with space, rather than the countries on the ground.
      These colonies did not seem too far away for Andy, even in his small cozy office, as he considered his plans for the weekend, and his thoughts for the future. Andy, at his salary, could afford a ticket into outer space. The United Space Station was just a shuttle away, though for now, there was work still piled in a short stack left ahead.
      The rest of the paperwork was waiting on the desk, ready to head out to its respective locations whether it is the boss’s office, the shipping department, or the corporation’s buyers, in the hands of a stern and professional young woman.
      She usually entered Andy’s office with a quick two taps at the door and then proceeded to gather the unorganized pile of completed forms and orders, dropping them into a neat stack with a smile and a word of greeting. Virginia was always polite to exchange a word or two before she went hastily along her way again.
      “Would you like to go to space with me: to the moon, or a colony?” asked Andy as this time as he handed her a neatly stacked pile of well penned papers.
      She was quick to reply, “It would be impossible to make our ways back. These days space can be a confusing place, especially during times of revolt in the colonies. We could get stuck in space among a succeeding group of colonists, and not be able to find our way home. Wouldn’t you hate that, Andy?” She said with a very smooth tone, without a hint of joke. She left the suspense in the air though, and left the room before Andy could really consider what he thought of the answer.
      Deciding that he rather liked the idea of space, Andy continued to complete the stack of papers left on the table. He filled out one very important paper. It exclaimed the total sold of certain types of vegetables over the last year, and his personal opinion as to the significance and implications of these results. He then left the papers to be collected during the next work day, and headed out the door onto his way home.

      On the way back home from work Andy D. was considering space, the sky, the void, and weightlessness as he drove past Vera’s house. Andy was not exactly looking for Vera at the moment, but he could still tell that Vera was not in his house as he passed by the windows. He often had a hunch about such things. Thinking of deep space, his thoughts continued to boarder a free train of thought, though his attention was firm within the construct of his current situation.
      Andy returned his focus to the ground as he felt the momentum pull the Range Rover over the curb and into the driveway which ended at a garage. He then walked to his shingled house to find, sitting in the living room chair, his friend Vera. This was not unusual, for they shared the same houses, “my house is your house,” as they would say. So, unperturbed by the situation at hand, Andy cunningly greeted Vera.
      “How is it to have another day at the house?” asked Andy, getting very little response in return, other than a usual look toward space, and a reasonably fitting, “the same.”
      Vera was always calm and collected, but highly unpredictable. His eyes could penetrate through the toughest of walls, yet left no trace of entrance or rearrangement as they scanned the whole world at once. He was an elusive man, though Andy always knew where and how to find him, whether it was during his jobs as a martial arts instructor or home construction business, or at his home. Although the two were very close, Andy doubted he could ever expect Vera’s actions, even though he knew Vera better than any other person in the world.
      So, they exchanged a no more than a few words, and then Andy proceeded upon his routine almost identically to any other night, except this time, cooking enough food cooked for three. Vera always had a huge appetite, and was never ashamed to say what was on his mind. Though, with the sort of peace that Vera found his place in during the course of the world, there were very few words that were exchanged between the two men.
      Vera was so quiet that at times, people would completely miss him passing by, though they may feel his warm presence. Andy, however, knowing Vera since childhood always noticed when Vera was near, and he seemingly had a sixth sense which alerted him of certain things. Andy seemed to be able to sense his friend around him by his pure energy, which was so unique that it could only belong to one person. Whenever Vera was around, Andy seemed to catch a glimpse of him, or turn just in time to see him heading another direction.
      So, Vera and Andy discussed things naturally, about the war, and about technology, and about their relationship with women without restraint or anxiousness to any degree. They were so caught up in their exchange of thoughts that, they became oblivious to the outside world around them.
      And due to their comfortable exchange, something very exciting was happening. Andy’s neighbor across the street, for one second caught a glimpse of a huge and imposing figure, in the shape of a man, descending quietly in the sky. And then it was gone, no matter how hard the neighbor looked, he saw it no more, and almost at once, he lost all interest. He would forever remember the figure, but more as a surreal thing, until another day.
      The two people talked until the late night, when Vera announced his exit, and Andy was left alone, comfortably in his own home once again.
      Home style life

VI

      The next day felt more significant to Andy. He was more aware and sharply in tune to the environment than he had felt the night before. He was feeling more alert, and was in tune to everything, including the birds, the wind, the ground, the climate, and the people wandering the sidewalks. Today Andy was going to spend the weekend with care to great expense. He would fully utilize his time off, not allowing his special circumstances deter him from taking advantage of the niche in the technical world in which he felt himself. For many, it is hard to accept a place in society without guilt.
      He drove to her home and looked hard at his dash, noticing how quickly he had hit a dead stop in front of the house where he knew she was staying. There was nothing more intimidating than slowing down and engaging in a conversation that could possibly determine the course of a relationship for the remainder of a lifetime. It would not however be as hard as Andy imagined, because Virginia was already standing with the door open, leaning to one side as she tried to piece together the scene. Andy did not notice yet, instead he quickly spoke to himself under his breath.
      She was watching with a clever expression, lifting one eyebrow and pressing her lips together. She was sure that she could see more in their relationship. All that was left for her to decide was if she could face him at the moment.

      Fog Sun progression Trees never stop moving Sun Rain clouds Confused looks Glint Bright Elevated Well matured

XXXX.

      Surrounded by seemingly nothing, Andy found himself in the presence of a very unusual pool of water. It was alone in space, yet did not seem to be out of ordinary proportions. Perhaps it was the very usual size that made Andy instantly come to peace with his surroundings. He did not question where he was, why the surroundings were nothing more than grey or white emptiness, or why he happened to be balancing on the top of a moving liquid.
      Surprisingly, Andy found himself balancing on the surface of the pool, as if standing on a solid block, long enough and wide enough to encompass his feet as he stood above the turbulent liquid below.
      Below the clear, thin block upon which Andy was standing, the water was predictably swirling counterclockwise.
      The depth of the pool was not significant. It appeared to only be only as deep as one body length, just deep enough to swim.
      He could tell that it was deepest in the middle where the water was still with a depth of one body length. The opaque ground slanted slightly upward as it moved outward in radius.
      The rest of the pool was flowing in a predictable counterclockwise fashion, although it still retained an unusual quality. It seemed to be charged with electricity as little sparks of light flowed with the current of the water, flashing in and out of existence.
      There were tons of tiny fish swimming against the current as one fat and large fish with billowing fins swam with the current.
      The man stood atom the water separated by his thin board which was slowly sinking and ebbing with the flowing water. The water was rushing below, but not at a quick enough rate, so water started to flow over the front.
      Involuntarily another man removed the fat fish from the water as it swam by and, in pain, he held it up for the king, and offering to anyone brave enough to handle such a magnificent specimen of pure lift, fat to the bone with flaunting wings to show its magnificence.
      The man, by pure designed choice grabbed the fish from the other man and as he did so, the water stopped in its tracks, the man slowly sinking as the layer beneath him gave way to water.
      He was holding the fish as he let go instantly in the after, knowing that holding such a fantastic specimen would surely disrupt the world and cause dire change to the environment. The fish shot away, counting its loop in the water, swimming away from the man. But, the small reflective fish caught him from behind, and pushed him at a fast pace toward the swimming fish.
      It was continuing its majestic loop, with tail flared behind its backside. The man sped though the tail wintering and encompassing the fish as he ripped though the tails and gills, killing the fish seemingly as he stopped at its mouth, or perhaps just in front.
      The ripped and stomach dropping sensation was over, as he calmly settled at the mouth. He was peaceful for a moment until the fish, the pool, and the electric guppies were gone, and he was again in his gundum.

      Earth drifts through a black hole in the year 2088. It instantly envelops the Earth.

      The nature in which the world works is one built around the capability of man. He understands and has harnessed the world for his power to build upon his existence. Like caged mice, a man runs in a wheel, however, unlike the mice, he has designed the wheel. He has built the bars of the cage for comfort, and he has built and supplied his own feeding dish and water dispenser. The existence of man has brought him to a forefront of an exuberance of modes in which to enrich his experience. The existence of man is enhanced through the wit and cunning of his mind and material world.
      A new man is born in times where it is hard to find a clear line between many issues in society. People, in their liberal minds, have found it difficult to draw boundaries within society between one section and the next.
      Drifting through life, a boy still at heart, eager for something in which he can define his existence, needs to look away from the average existence of work and social norms. He looks to the dark mystery of his friend’s father’s death to find a longstanding link to his past. He may have been in space before, and his gundum is waiting with his flying specification.

© copywrited copywrite Ross Dale Kelly 5/13/2007 May 15, 2007 et all…

A young man encounters the fringes of technology as he dreams to become a fighter pilot in a new age. He slowly uncovers a path which takes deep heart and courage, as he discovers the limits to his physical world. He eventually pilots his way through the deepest charted areas of space while he simultaneously uncovers inner workings of the politics in the time in which war and peace are disputed within a constant physical and intellectual battle. Andy M. finds himself immersed in a world of harsh encounters and twisted endings. He must find his place within the world while living his dream, yet always following his conscience. He steps blindly with huge strides, taking the world head on in a match of wits and comedy.

Story Copywrite Ross D. Kelly October 2007