This is the opening chapter to the second book of Alive It covers a bit more background than I'd intended, But some time has passed and I thought it necessary to catch up, so we can move forward. Thank you for your patience. (it's late and I've reread and reworked this about 10 times today. Any typos/problems I missed will have to be fixed later. Feel free to bring them to my attention)- Bry
Alive
Book 2
Pt1
1
The boy took his place at the spot that had been marked with a large black 'X'. He flexed his shoulders and kicked at the ground, to make sure his shoes had sufficient traction. After a moment of concentration, he took a deep breath and prepared for the next test. There was no real need to do any of this. It was all ritual. The ground was a simulated textured turf that his sneakers would easily grip. His shoulders didn't really need flexing, nor would a moment of concentration affect his performance for better or worse.
And of course he had no need to breathe. His lungs were paper-thin sheets of polyurethane placed in the rear of the chest cavity, which filled and expelled air at intervals that increased with exertion. This was a recent addition to make the boy appear more life-like.
When his unnecessary preparations were done, the boy crouched slightly, as instructed, and watched his teacher carefully for a hint of what was coming.
But Teacher said nothing and his face betrayed no indication of what he had prepared for the boy. He glanced to and fro a few times, as if he were sending coded signals to someone in the distance. But they were alone out here. It was just more ritual. When Teacher had finished his unnecessary gesture, he leaned forward and placed a hand behind his back.
"Bring it on," the boy said, in his best challenging tone.
Teacher obliged.
The pitch was fast. But the boy's reflexes were faster. After calculations that took a fraction of a second, the boy swung the bat, feeling a programmed surge of excitement at the resultant smack and the sight of the ball flying up over Teacher's head to be caught in the netting. There was a moment's silence while the program calculated the speed and trajectory of the ball. Then a deep mechanical voice announced:
"Homerun!"
The boy threw the bat high and began to jump up and down as the sound of cheering crowds erupted from speakers outside the net, along with the sub woofing simulation of people stomping their feet on invisible bleachers.
The sound of the simulated crowds blared from the roof of the Cybertronics building and over the sunken remains of Manhattan.
"In your face!" the boy said, pointing a mocking finger at Teacher as he did a little jig over home plate.
David laughed.
"Ok,ok. Don't get cocky," he said, picking another ball from the bucket at his side "That's only two in seven. You can do better."
The Mecha would have responded with another boyish taunt if he had been programmed any. But he was only a prototype. So he just picked up the bat and prepared for another pitch. Then he noticed a small shape approaching from the doorway that led down into the Cybertronics building.
He knew that shape. It was a bear shape.
"Hi Teddy!" the boybot said, setting the bat down and waving. This was also a programmed response. All the prototypes had befriended Teddy. And not just as a whim. There had been resurgence of interest in the old toy bears and, under a deal between Cybertronics and Supertoys Inc, the 300 Playpal David Series came packaged with its own furry familiar.
David turned to see his old friend crawling under the giant net.
"Don't get in the way, Teddy" he said. "We're practicing."
But when Teddy responded it wasn't the bear's voice he heard.
"David, what is all that racket?" Alan Hobby said through the mouth of his son's constant companion
"Oh. Sorry, Dad," David replied. "Uh… I'm just testing the reflexes on the new 500 Series sports model."
"Well, do you have to turn up the batting net so loud?" Hobby complained. "You're making enough noise to raise the dead!"
David shrugged, knowing his Dad was watching through the Supertoy's eyes. It didn't used to bother him. But now it was becoming a bit annoying, never knowing if you were being watched. He regretted ever setting up the toy for communication.
"C'mon Dad," David said, preparing for another pitch. "You know nobody ever dies around here." He threw the ball and the David 500 stuck quickly. The ball flew off at an angle and landed in the net.
"Foulball!" the program announced. The crowds booed.
"David!" Hobby said.
"Ok, I'll turn it down. It just sounds better this way," David said. Then he quickly changed the subject.
"Hey, you should come check this out, Dad. The 500's are getting pretty darned fast. Two homers out of seven of my best fastballs. Only two fouls. Still need a little tweaking I guess."
He put his hands on his hips and contemplated the boybot for a moment.
"You know I'm betting if we widened the peripheral vision field and included an approximation of the pitcher's weight, height and stance in the trajectory calculations, we might be able to improve-"
"David!"
"What-what-what? I said I'll turn it down!"
Hobby laughed. "Why don't you give it a rest today, son?"
"Well what else am I gonna do around this place? It's not like I can leave the city." David paused a moment. "Can I?" he said, hopefully. "I mean, Eddie and Skipper said they were headed out for some diving, but they probably haven't left yet. If I hurry I can probably catch them before…."
But David let his words trail off, already knowing what the answer would be. He heard his Father's sigh coming from Teddy's mouth.
"You know I don't like you hanging with those scavengers." Hobby said.
"Those scavengers are the only friends I have around here." David said.
"I'm sure Grace and the rest of the crew will be glad to hear that," Hobby laughed.
"C'mon, you know what I mean," David said. "Grace and Ariel and everyone … they're more like aunts and uncles." He walked over to the crowd control panel and turned the volume down.
"Those scavengers are my friends," he said pensively.
"And as long as you're all inside the city perimeter, I don't mind," Hobby said. "But we have these rules for a reason, remember? The police have limited jurisdiction here. But outside…. What if Skipper gets boarded by the Coast Guard? You know how he is. He'll probably have some contraband onboard. And what happens when a certain Field Commander Greig catches wind of a boy matching your description being picked up on the waters outside Manhattan?"
David wanted to reply, but he had no words.
He looked out over the waterways of Manhattan. Boats were going to and fro, on their way to whatever business sustained them in this drowned city. One of them seemed headed for Cybertronics. He could see dark clad men aboard, standing around their heavily wrapped cargo. He wondered what they were bringing, or retrieving … and he wondered if he could sneak away with them.
In the distance, great white cloudbanks hung over the vast blue horizon. The sight beckoned him, stirred his growing spirit for adventure. When was the last time he'd been inland? He could barely remember.
And when was the last time he had seen Her? So long ago that her face was beginning to fade.
But Dad was right. He was always right, it seemed.
"Alright," he sighed, hanging his head in resignation.
"Now, can you come down here, please?" Hobby said. "There's something else we really need to talk about."
David didn't like the tone of those words.
"What now?" he said. "I finished my studies. I cleaned my room. All the prototypes are running diagnostics."
"But there is one thing you obviously forgot, son." Hobby interrupted. "I'll be waiting in the study."
Teddy beeped as the line went dead, and seemed to come out of a daze.
"Hello, David!" Teddy said, suddenly aware of its surroundings.
David harrumphed.
"Little spy," he snapped as he started making his way to the study, wondering what he'd done wrong this time.
Teddy watched David storm off, wondering the same exact thing.
2
The study was empty when David arrived. No one was about, except Alfred who was set to standby in the corner, and a silent blonde 500 Series sitting silently on the couch, a lost look on its cherubic face. The crown of its little head was missing and a series of cables erupted from its skull, connecting it to Dad's desktop.
David pondered the sleeping bot for a moment, remembering that he had once been like that, sitting blanked-faced on that same couch.
He shrugged the thought off. It had been years ago. He could barely remember any of those days. The daily rigors of Orga life consumed his thoughts now.
"Dad?" David called.
There was no response but a steady beep-beep-beep from the program Dad had running on his console, and the soft whirring noise that was a constant backdrop to everything at Cybertronics.
David was getting annoyed. Again.
"Where'd he go, Alfred?" he said.
The Mecha Butler snapped to consciousness and focused on David.
"I'm sorry, sir," Alfred said. "Your Father was here a moment ago, but I'm afraid he's left."
"Well, I can see that much myself," David said. Then he noticed his lute sitting on the chair by his Father's desk.
"Hey, how'd that get out here," he said. He turned back to Alfred. "Is this the reason he called me down here? Just to put my lute away? You could have done that!"
"I'm sorry sir," Alfred replied. "I do not know the reason you were beckoned."
David grumbled under his breath the words he didn't want Alfred to hear, and went to retrieve his instrument. But he quickly realized something was not right. The lute sitting on the chair was larger than his classical model. The wood was lighter, polished to the point of shimmering, and the soundboard was decorated with an elaborate carving. David approached the chair slowly and studied the instrument. His heart began to race as he gently picked it up. The fret board was dark maple and the body Swiss Pine, which was increasingly rare nowadays. The bridge was set firmly into the base, as if the whole instrument had been carved from a single piece of wood. He plucked a string with his thumb and a full-bodied note resonated throughout the room.
"Whoa," he said in soft reverence. He sat and began to finger a piece by John Dowland, a 16th century composer whose lonely melodies David had come to be very fond of. The notes reverberated slowly through the room, and David's mind followed them. In moments he was lost in the music, pursuing that moody dream state which always came over him when he played. Each note was pure, the harmonic overtones ringing perfectly through the tear shaped soundboard.
"Don't you know any happy songs?"
The voice broke David from his trance. He looked up to see Grace standing in the doorway, a wry smile on her face and amusement in her eyes.
"Grace?" David said, perplexed, pondering the strange expression on her face. He held the lute up for her to see. "Do you know anything about-"
But he stopped mid-sentence, suddenly remembering what he'd forgotten.
"SURPRISE!"
The room was suddenly filled with people. They rushed in from the doorways and began slapping David on the back, mussing his hair and pinching his cheeks. Ariel was there, with Mario and the guys from the lab, laughing and smiling. Skipper and Eddie suddenly jumped out and punched him firmly on each arm.
"Happy birthday, brat!" the two scavengers laughed.
Everyone had brightly decorated gift-wrapped boxes in hand.
"Happy Birthday to you!" they sang in shaky harmony.
David smiled, trying not to laugh at the accidental off notes from the guys in the lab… and the intentional ones from Skipper and Eddie, who never seemed to miss a chance at mischief.
When the song was finished, Allan Hobby broke through the crowd and embraced David.
"Sixteen years old," he said proudly, hugging David tight as the rest of the room looked on with adoring eyes. "Congratulations."
Then he leaned close, so no one would hear, and whispered in the boy's ear.
"Happy fifth birthday, son." He said.
3
David had no birthday. But Allen Hobby's son did… his real son; the boy who had died after slumbering for years in a frozen coma; the boy whose death had broken his father's heart and sent the man on a quest that would lead to David's creation.
Now, through an incomprehensible miracle, David had become that boy. Or at least as far as anyone knew.
Hobby had offered no explanation. One day he had simply introduced David to the staff as his newly adopted son… and that was that. David had noticed the perplexed expressions and fully expected someone to point out the startling similarity between David and… well, David. But no one had spoken. For all David knew they might think their boss had gone crazy, and had adopted one of his Mecha creations from loneliness.
Only Grace already knew the impossible truth. And she had been taken into Allen Hobby's confidence.
The boy's presence was to be a secret, Hobby had warned, one whose breach would mean the end of a career. And when Alan Hobby used words like that… people listened.
But such precautions were really unnecessary. The truth was, Cybertronics was a family. Hobby trusted them, and they trusted him. Trust was a crucial part of their success and a trait Hobby sought in any hire.
True to the Blue Fairy's promise, David had began to grow and mature like an Orga boy… for he was one now. All the complexities of living that he had had once found so confounding he had began to take for granted. And now that he was moving towards adulthood, a whole new set of life's issues were falling in his path.
He was taller, his chest was filling out and arms getting stronger with his daily exercise. Dad could no longer dress him in the clothing that had been designed for his Mecha brothers. And he was happy about that. David found he preferred casual attire. He wore his old jeans and t-shirts until they wree threadbare and Dad began to complain. He actually preferred them to the stylistic clothing that Dad brought him, assuming like most adults, that all teenagers gravitated towards the same fashion statements. David didn't know or care much about what was in fashion. He had no one he was trying to impress, nor any clique he wanted to be part of.
His voice had grown deeper as his body went through changes that he had not yet grown accustomed to. He'd had a small bout with acne, but it had only lasted a few weeks. Thin wisps of peach fuzz had grown above his upper lips and more had sprouted from other, unexpected places on his body.
His temperament had changed too. He would often find his patience wearing thin at little things he used to easily tolerate. Teddy got on his nerves more lately, especially since he'd become a spy for Dad. But their friendship was still intact… even though he wasn't the 'real' Teddy. (David never brought that up in front of the toy.)
David had become impatient with his isolation and savored the time he spent with his scavenger friends, floating around Manhattan, searching for sunken treasure or just lazing around Skipper's boat, reading, playing his lute and listening to the old men recount obviously embellished tales of their many misadventures.
Over the years new urgent feelings had awakened in David; ones that would sometimes keep wake him awake at night, lascivious images surging through his imagination until he got a grip on himself, and managed to fall into a relieved slumber.
Dad had spoken with him about these things and David quickly realized what Rouge City was all about. He took it all in stride, realizing that this was definitely something he would never have appreciated in his other life.
He often thought of Wizzy on his lonely nights; and the special kiss she had bestowed him before she said goodbye. Maybe, someday, he would see her again.
And then there were the dreams! He loved to dream, almost as much as he loved to play his lute. The mysterious blue dreams still came to him sometimes, though not as often as they used to. And unlike the others, most of which had to do with living at Mommy's house, or beating the crap out of Martin or Henry, and sometimes both of them at once, David could never remember the Blue Dreams upon wakening. He just recalled a strange rollicking sensation that never seemed to end.
4
Five years.
It was hard to believe it had been five years since he had come to live in his home at the End Of The World. Five long and trying years of life as Orga. But the fundamental concerns were history,. He no longer had to worry about mere survival issues. There was always food. There was shelter. And he had the best care for his fragile human body. Now David faced new problems, 'existential' problems, as he had learned they were called.
Why was he here? Why was anybody here?
What was this Orga life really all about?
The Blue fairy had said it was a trial, and full of conflicts of flesh and spirit. But if it was a trial, then what verdict was sought? And what resolution could there be to the many conflicts he'd face?
Somehow his lute held a key. He was certain of it. There was no logical reason for this feeling. It was tied to his new sense of intuition, that peculiar 'oddness' of Orga that Joe had warned him of. Joe couldn't have known that this strange flight of logic called imagination, that made Orga so 'odd', was also what made them the weavers of masterpieces and miracles.
The same irrationality that made them believe in things that could not be seen or measured, also made dreams come true, allowed them to bring the invisible world to life. They'd actually duplicated themselves in metal and fiber. Amazing.
David had spent long hours practicing his music and had mastered many of the songs he loved. There was something magic in music now. It was more than audible mathematical codes, as it had been when he was fiber. It held a new vibrancy with his Orga ears…. and heart.
Now it was… alive!
He had also delved into reading. Mysteries, Fantasies, Crime, Romance, Historical works and Scientific Journals. He loved it all. Everything on the page was easily converted to audio, but he preferred the simple art of reading. Especially with fiction. The written word gave him choices that audio translations did not; the freedom to determine the pace and inflection of the words. It was 'active'… not static. He was both an observer and a participant to the written word.
Writing was also part of his life. He had started a journal of sorts; short essays at first, littered with what he now saw as juvenile assessments of life's fundamental questions. But he had developed and was now tackling fiction, which he saw as the most difficult form.
All stories are metaphor, he had realized. It seemed that everything else is easy by comparison.
His studies led him to get involved with his Father's art: the simulation of life. They would often talk at length into the late hours of night; his Father asking ceaseless questions about how he felt during the strange transition; what he could remember of being Mecha. But to David this was all the past. He thought of the life ahead….
And of those short periods when he could manage to see Her.
Skipper and Eddie had helped him with this. Skipper was an old friend of Hiro, an aging portly bearded man with an effusive laugh and a sense of humor that was as off color as the faded tie-dyed shirts he always wore. They obviously had some sentimental value. Eddie was younger than Skipper by a couple decades; dark haired and dark-skinned with eyes that winked easily, and always looked like he was up to something. He usually was.
He had been the one who had come up with the schemes to allow David to see his mother. They were covert campaigns, those missions to the inland. They he had gone on a dozen or so over the years. But only two of them had actually worked.
Once when they'd followed the family cruiser to a shopping mall and tailed inconspicuously behind She and Henry until the building's digital brain noticed the trio's strange behavior and sent Mecha guards to investigate. Skipper had got them out of that one with his quick thinking. The man was obviously used to getting out of jams with the authorities.
And once when they had had followed Monica to a Holo-show in Shadow Creek, where David managed to sit just a few rows behind her as a holographic remake of an old Stephen Spielberg film about a robotic child filled the dark theater. (David spent most of the time gazing on Monica's profile, so he only saw bits of the holo. After the show Eddie said he thought the premise was a little absurd, in his humble opinion. David had shrugged and said he'd actually found it rather prophetic.)
Monica had not been alone in the theater either. Martin had been with her. His hair was shorter then, and he was dressed in more conventional clothing. But his dark, suspicious eyes were the same. They roamed everywhere, as if he was expecting to see an unwelcome face lingering in the shadows. David had had to wait until the lights went down before entering the theater, and then scrunch down in his seat when Martin passed by on his way for refreshments, or to the restroom and back.
But even in Martin's absence, David had dared not speak to her. He knew she was not ready for such an encounter.
Someday. Someday when it would not devastate her mind, he would be able to tell her how much he still loved her. How much he would always love her. She would always be at the foundation of his being.
She was the reason he was here, after all.
5
David had blown out the candles and the presents had been opened. Now the people were gathered in pockets around the room, socializing while devouring ice cream and platefuls of the German Chocolate cake that Grace had baked herself. No simulation there. One bite and David dropped any lingering regret he had about becoming Orga.
"Mmm! Delicious Grace," David had mumbled through a mouthful.
"Sweets for the sweet," she'd replied with a wink.
"Umm… corney," David said.
Grace shrugged. "Yeah, I know," she said, and kissed him on the forehead.
Teddy made his appearance and was now taking in the festivities from his usual position, seated comfortably in David's lap. David had forgiven the toy, again, but made sure his comm. was off before he allowed the toy to sit.
Mario and the guys from the lab were playing with the Mecha Golden Retriever they had made for David, making the toy dog do tricks while Skipper and Eddie looked on amused. David had thanked them warmly, though it was just a bigger and shaggier version of the poodle they'd made for him last year.
"Make it pee on the carpet," Eddie suggested. Everybody laughed but Mario who was a bit serious about his creations and took any jokes about them as insults.
"Well, it can't pee, but I am pretty sure I can make it bite," Mario replied. Eddie kept any further suggestions to himself.
Grace and a few of her friends were sitting by the window, enjoying the crisp ocean air and whispering among themselves. She glanced over at David a few times, winking and smiling. One of her friends, a blonde woman with a lilt to her eyebrows that always made look sarcastic, shot him a smile and then leaned close to Grace to ask a question.
Probably wondering what a boy of my age is doing with teddy bear in my lap, David thought.
He laughed to himself, wondering what Grace had told the women about him. He had only seen these girls a few times before and had never spoken to either at length. Did they even know about Alan Hobby's lost son? He was sure that Dad would not have allowed them to the small party if they could not be trusted.
David had come to love Grace like an aunt. She doted on him, fetching almost anything he wanted. So much so that Hobby Dad had had to have a talk with her about it.
Only she and Dad knew his secret. She had guessed it that fateful night when she'd snuck into his bedroom to see what she assumed was her boss's new creation. Only to find a human child sitting on the window sill, mocking her and laughing at her uncomprehending eyes..
Who could she tell anyway? Who would believe her?
She never even asked any questions about 'the miracle' as she called it. Somehow David knew it scared her. He was unsure if she held any religious convictions, but on the few times she had mentioned his transition, she referred to it only like that; as 'the miracle'… as if trying to understand it might destroy the magic and he would change back into a toy.
He winked back at Grace and placed Teddy on the floor so he could grab another bite of cake before his guests devoured it completely.
He also wanted a word with his father.
6
"That wasn't funny," David said as he approached Hobby, scolding the man for the way he had tricked him into coming down for the surprise party. "I thought I was in trouble."
"Got ya," Hobby chuckled. "You like the lute?" he said.
David had to swallow a mouthful of cake before he responded.
"Mm-mm… Yeah, it's beautiful! Where did you find it?"
"Money is how I found it," Hobby said. Then his face grew serious. He pulled David to the corner of the room and spoke in a whisper.
"I know about your trips to see Monica."
A look of guilt grew on David's face. He shot a glance at his two scavenger friends, but they were still preoccupied with the toy dog, which was now balancing on its head, spinning in a circle, while the lab guys laughed and made suggestions of what trick to do next.
"No, Skipper and Eddie didn't say anything," Hobby said.
"Then how'd you find out?" David said.
Hobby shook his head.
"Doesn't really matter, son," he said. "What matters is that you are incredibly vulnerable. To take such chances! It's foolish… it's dangerous. There are jams that my money can't get you out of. You must consider the ramifications of your actions."
David stumbled for words, looking at the floor to avoid his Father's disappointed eyes.
Hobby sighed.
"I know it's difficult, David. Nobody else of your age around…. no Orga anyway. I know you get lonely. But in a couple years you'll be of legal age. Whoever is looking for you will probably be on to something else, or they will have retired and the case of the strange boy in the stolen amphibicopter will be stuck in the cold case files. And maybe Monica will be in a sound frame of mind by then."
"And what if she is not?" David said. "What if she's worse?"
It was Hobby's turn to stumble for words. This wasn't a good time for this conversation. He should have waited to bring it up. He started to wave it off, but David had more to say.
"You're right," David whispered. "I've seen her and she doesn't look good. She looks older than her age. And her eyes are …" he stopped, having no way to explain the disconnected look in his Mother's face. The way her smile never seemed to reach her eyes.
"I'm afraid, Dad," david said, his voice breaking. He took a moment to compose himself. "Afraid that I'll never see her again… that she'll be locked up in some hospital or… or that, by the time I am free to see her, she won't be… here anymore."
Once again Hobby had to concede to David's concerns. He motioned for his son to let it go.
"Let's talk about this later," he said. "I was wrong to bring it up on your special day. I only said anything because…" Hobby was quiet for an awkward moment. Then his face suddenly lightened.
"I forgot to show you all your presents," he said with a mischievous grin.
David managed to force his grim thoughts away.
"Cough up the goods, old man," he said.
7
Hobby walked to the large monitor on the wall of his study. He picked up a set of gloves that had been sitting on a table and handed them to David.
"Have a seat," he said, pulling up a chair.
David sat down and analyzed the gloves. They were obviously game controls, similar to the ones used for most virtual environments. But there was something different about these ones. He shot a curious look at Hobby.
"Look familiar?" Hobby said as he turned on the monitor. What David saw was the floor level loading dock, where Hiro and Chiyoko had dropped him on his return home. Beneath this view lay a virtual control console. David knew these controls. He'd seen them before.
"I think you've flown an amphibicopter befoe, haven't you?" Hobby said.
Flight simulator? David was sure that Dad knew he already had one of these. But he smiled like it was a big surprise anyway. He put his hands up to let the gloves calibrate and then turned on the thrusters.
"Nice graphics," he said approvingly.
"Not exactly," Hobby said.
"What's 'not exactly'," David said.
"You'll see," Hobby said "Take her for a spin."
David lifted the simulator a few feet off the ground and spun a few quick circles to get a feel for the controls. By now the others in the room had broken from their conversations and were gathered around the monitor, watching him and cheering him on.
David finally lifted off the dock and shot quickly over the waters. The layout of Manhattan was precise. Eerily realistic. He even saw Skipper's boat docked alongside the building. He circled it a few times; saw exact duplicates of the boat's sails and the hand-decorated tarps Skipper used to cover his salvage.
Skipper made an impressed whistle.
"Someone been watching me a little too closely," he said with a gruff laugh.
David looked up at his Father. "How'd you … who programmed this?"
"Why don't you fly up to the study window," Hobby said.
David flew along side the building and lifted up past the floors. As he came close to the place where the study should be, he heard a strange high-pitched whine growing outside the window.
Then he understood.
"No way!" he said.
"Yes way," his Father laughed.
Everyone turned to see a remote controlled model amphibicopter hovering outside the window. It was about three feet long, an exact replica of the Police Copter he'd been trapped inside for two years. It emitted a thin, high pitched electric whine has it hovered.
David turned back to the screen and rotated the copter so that the front view cam was looking into the window. The people in the room saw themselves on the screen and began waving and laughing.
"Now this is cool," David said.
"You really think so?" Hobby said.
"Yes. Very, very cool. Thanks!"
"Hmm. Well, maybe you should take a look at the roof," Hobby said.
David liked the way that sounded. He pulled back on the controls and heard the small thrusters on the model outside whistle and fade away, as it rose quickly to the top of the building.
On the monitor he saw that the baseball net had been removed. In its place stood a group of five men, dressed in dark overalls. He realized that these were the men he'd seen approaching the building when Dad had called him. They were standing in a semi-circle around something large that had been covered in a white tarp adorned with a large blue bow.
David flew the remote copter slowly towards the group, watching their images grow in the monitor. One of them finally waved at the copter, and then gestured to the others. As one, the men stepped forward and removed the tarp.
David lost his breath. The rest of the room gasped.
Hobby tried not to laugh at their reactions.
"Damn!" Eddie blurted.
"Why, you lucky little brat," Skipper said.
"Oh, my," Grace mumbled. "That's gonna be trouble."
The craft that had been covered by the tarp had a flat, oval shaped body that tapered at the rear. It shimmered like polished chrome, reflecting back the rays of the afternoon sun. It stood only 5 feet off the ground and was about fourteen feet in length, with a wingspan of six feet and a tail fin that erupted from behind the cockpit and ran the length of the frame. But it didn't really need much of either. They were less for lift than for stability at high altitudes.
David finally caught his breath.
"A Strato-cruiser?" he said in disbelief. "You got me a Strato-cruiser?"
"Now that is cool," Alan Hobby said. "But there are some conditions we need to talk about before you…"
Allen Hobby was forced to stop mid-sentence and catch up with his son, who was already racing for the elevator.
(cont...)