Falling Against Gravity Read online

  When he accepted the lucrative contract to work for Mr. Fort, he had no idea he would be spending so much time around Serbians. He had killed many Serbs in the past, and seeing the faces of Nikola and Zoya reminded him of it every day. He didn’t hate Serbians or Bulgarians or any of the people he fought during the war; he was just doing his duty. His only crime was being a loyal soldier. But if they found out his past transgressions they would surely hate him.

  CHAPTER 12

  With a hard snap, Zoya spun the hand wheel above her. She gave the hatch a firm push with her shoulder, causing her to wince a little. She stuck her torso out of the hatch at the very top of the craft and gave the exterior surface of the ship one last inspection from this vantage point. The beauty of this vessel caught her more and more often lately. As the sun reflected off the large, rounded copper plates, she grew a little satisfied smile. Everything was so new, with very few blemishes or dents. They were so nice and smooth, overlapping one another like giant fish scales. They shimmered boldly in the sunlight, forcing her to squint. She was lost in the beauty when she heard a gentle thumping behind her. She had to lift herself completely up through the hatch and sit on its edge to see what was making the sound. She strained her neck a little and then spotted a small white owl with its wing wedged under a plate. The caught bird fluttered and flapped itself against ship’s surface. Zoya looked at the uncomfortable owl for a few moments. She felt pity for the trapped creature. She scrunched up her face. “Oh, ok. Hold on a minute.”

  She popped up out of the hole and got up on her feet. “You must have been stuck there all night, little one.” She gently walked over to the bird, gingerly stepping over one panel and then another. As she got to the small owl, the slope was becoming quite steep. She lowered her center of balance until she was on her hands and knees, ultimately crawling to the frantically flailing bird.

  “Easy now,” she cooed. The owl stopped moving and stared her in the eyes.

  As she reached for the owl’s wing, it suddenly burst free, flying towards her face. She tightly squeezed her eyes shut as she screamed and jerked back, losing her grip. She started to slide, unable to grab anything. Stumbling and skidding, she picked up speed and fell headlong off the side of the ship, kicking and flailing as she plunged face first into the darkness below. A voice boomed all around her, “KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN.”

  Zoya snapped back in her small bed, banging her skull on her headboard. Her bed sheets went flying to the floor. Her heart pounded in her throat. She breathed deeply, panting a little. A tear ran along her nose as she reached back to where she bumped her head. She rubbed it, cursing quietly as she slipped back down into her bed, grabbing the remaining blankets and pulling them over her. She curled into a ball, trying to slow down her heartbeat and breathing. Exhausted, she stared at her alarm clock and wondered if she could ever fall back to sleep again before its bells rang.

  The next day, Zoya rested in the pilot seat of the Nimbus, her eyes closed and her feet up on the controls. She was wearing a leather shoulder brace. Ripley came up the stairs behind her with an ice bag. Zoya stirred and shook her head awake.

  “I brought this for you,” Ripley said as he placed the ice bag on her shoulder. “I can’t believe Nikola has his own machine that makes ice.”

  “Oh thank you, Leroy. That's very sweet.”

  “Are you up for this tonight? It was only two nights ago you were hurt. And you look worn out.”

  “I'll be fine. I just need a nap. This brace Nikola made really helps. And I fear Mr. Fort will go ahead with the test tonight whether I'm ready or not.”

  Ripley’s face crumpled in concern. “I-I could speak to him, if you want. I can try to make him understand…”

  “That's kind of you to offer, but I'm becoming as determined as those two are to see if this beauty is going to fly.”

  Zoya smiled and put her head back. The cold pack felt good on her sore shoulder.

  Ripley gazed at her for a moment, but then quickly looked away, realizing that she could open her eyes at any minute and he’d be caught staring like a pervert. “I'll let you get some rest. You’ve certainly earned it.” It was hard to keep his eyes off her, so best take his leave.

  “Thank you again, Leroy, for everything.”

  “You’re welcome, my lady,” he spun and said with a bow but then felt silly because she couldn’t see him. He headed down the stairs quietly with a smile.

  Later that night, everyone was sitting around Fort's office. They were all quite serious and somber. Envar refreshed everyone’s coffee as they held their strategy session.

  Fort scanned the faces around the table. He could see the weariness on them. He didn’t like driving everyone so hard, but they had a timetable to meet. He couldn’t miss his opportunity to find the mysterious mentalist Zoltar. So much depended on it. When Fort put out the word that he was looking for any information about Martians, one of his contacts, an information broker and cafe owner in Egypt named Farouk, let him know of a timeless mentalist who returns to Cairo for Ramadan every third year, leaving on the full moon and disappearing into the desert. The mentalist, Zoltar, claimed to know the secret history of the world and about ancient invaders from other planets. Fort needed to know what he knew.

  Looking around the room, he realized the crew needed a pep talk from their leader. And for better or worse, he was their leader. This was a first for him and the notion struck him that an impromptu speech would be appropriate. Out of nowhere, he slammed his hand down on the desk and stood. “So, this is it. Tonight is our moment of truth. The culmination of nearly five years of work. And over ten thousand hours of design and building. Nikola and I've gone through the schematics a hundred times. I’m certain it will work. And make no mistake, what we do here tonight will go down in history someday. The things we say and do will be written down and studied by school children around the world in the future. So we must remember that to be bold, we must shed any fear and face the unknown.”

  Nikola leaned to the side in his chair, expressing poorly timed flatulence. Everyone wrinkled their faces and turned away. Fort just lowered his head in disgust.

  “What time are we starting?” Zoya asked.

  “Batteries will be ready within hour,” Nikola piped in. He straightened up and flapped his heavy apron to dissipate the smell.

  Fort ignored his rudeness. “So ... shortly after that, I guess.”

  Zoya adjusted in her seat and winced in pain. She tried to hide it, but Ripley noticed her discomfort. She delicately moved her shoulder around to help loosen it.

  “Nikola,” Fort began, “when we start the engine, you will handle the polarity of the Fortium–”

  “Teslum,” Nikola interrupted.

  “Fortium. And remember, everyone, once we power up the Fortium–”

  “Teslum,” Nikola corrected.

  Fort cleared his throat and ignored Nikola. “Once we power this machine up, we can’t shut it down easily–”

  “Or possibly at all,” Nikola interjected. He shrugged and made a weird face.

  “Would you please stop interrupting me?” Fort snapped. He checked his rising temper, taking an extra deep breath to calm himself down.

  “Nikola and I will monitor and adjust the Faraday Field as needed and will make sure the magnetos are working properly. Then we'll stabilize the gravitic fields by adjusting the voltage in the mercury to get it just right. After that, we'll get Zoya to test the steering one last time before releasing the moorings. Zoya, you need to confirm that full steering is working and available. We won’t be going very far, just out of the hangar and into the secluded yard beyond the poplars. Once we know we have steering control and before we release the moorings, I'll need you, Ripley, to open the roof.”

  Ripley’s eyes pinged wide open. “What? Me? Operate that old mechanism? Are you sure? Why not Envar? Mechanical things are really not my forte. He would be much better suited.”

  Nikola rolled his eyes in disgust as he sipped his rich
coffee.

  “Envar has other responsibilities already tonight,” Fort explained. “And Zoya is at the helm. So, Ripley, I need you to open the skylights. There’s no one else. And trust me, Ripley, it’s a simple task and you’ll be well out of harm’s way.”

  Ripley continued to question the notion. “Why not just open them now?”

  Fort’s tone started to rattle in frustration. “We don’t have the power to spare yet, and there’s a high probability of continued rain showers tonight. I don’t want any more rain getting in here than there already is. Trust me, Ripley, you can do this.”

  Ripley straightened up in his chair. “Okay, then. Show me what to do.”

  Relieved, Fort nodded. “Thank you.”

  After the meeting when everyone else had left Fort’s office, Ripley stuck around to talk privately with his chum. He could see the pressure was getting to Fort – and everyone else for that matter. Ripley casually strolled around the office, running his hand along the table’s edge, looking at all the blueprints and wiring diagrams pinned to the walls and cork boards. Without even thinking, he took the spoon from beside Zoya’s empty coffee mug and slipped it into his pocket. He was distracted. He was searching his mind for the right words. He wanted to get this right without angering his closest friend. Before he found the right opening, Fort got to the point.

  “Just say it, Ripley. I can tell you want to say something.”

  “I do, Charles. I’m just not sure how to.”

  “Fortune favors the bold. Just say it,” Fort directed with a weary tone.

  “All right, then.” Ripley took a deep breath before spouting out, really fast, “I think you’re pushing too hard. Yourself, Zoya, Nikola, this mission, everything. Zoya is injured. Envar is cranky. Nikola is making wild accusations and acting out. And you, you look terrible, exhausted all the time. When was the last time you slept in your own bed? Or been home with your wonderful wife? It’s been days. And for what? Maybe this thing flies, maybe it won’t. Again, for what? This Zoltar character you’re obsessed with finding, what if you can’t find him? What if he doesn’t know anything or doesn’t want to talk with you? Or tell you anything important? What if all this stress and pressure is for nothing? Even worse – what if someone gets hurt or killed in this insane plan? Will it be worth it? That’s what I want to say.” Ripley’s poise stiffened as he finished speaking.

  Fort leaned back in his chair behind the cluttered desk, a little surprised. His hands dug along the leather arm rests as he let his trusted companion’s words sink in. Feeling somewhat awkward standing there motionless, Ripley’s face squirmed a little as he waited for Fort’s response. Then Fort sat forward and rested his elbows on the desk, making a steeple with his fingers in front of his nose. Slowly a smile began to grace his face. “Good for you, Ripley. That probably wasn’t easy for you to say. But … my good, kind and thoughtful friend, the answer is yes. It is worth it. There’s something happening and I don’t know what it is. And it involves me now, it involves all of us now. There are men out there who have hurt me and carelessly risked the lives of people I care about, and these killers are practically at our doorstep.” Fort drove his finger into the table repeatedly with growing fervor. “They won’t stop, Ripley, until they know they’ve silenced me. And they don’t seem to care who gets hurt in the process. At this point, Zoltar is the key! I’ve been told by a reliable source overseas that he knows what is going on. And I think I can get him to talk to me.”

  “What source exactly? Not that Farouk character, is it?”

  Fort’s face squirmed a little.

  “Oh, Charles! You can’t be serious? Everything you’ve ever told me about him makes him sound shifty and untrustworthy!”

  “Farouk is a very reliable man. He has a good sense of honor and fraternity.”

  “He’s a liar, a smuggler, and a card cheat, you told me. Many times.”

  “Yes, well, that’s all in good fun.”

  “Does he know you’re rich now…?”

  Charles thought for a moment. “Well, regardless. He has information about Zoltar. And he assures me that Zoltar knows … well, things.”

  “Zoltar! Zoltar! Zoltar!” Ripley threw his hands in the air. “Always with this Zoltar! Tell me once and for all – without your usual obfuscation – what is it you think he knows?”

  Fort paused for a moment. Now it was his turn to search for the right words. “I think he knows about an imminent Martian invasion and why men like Blake are willing to betray their own humanity for these other-planetarians. I want to find the evidence and warn the world to prepare.”

  “Oh, Charles! Not the Martians again? You can’t be serious?”

  “Ripley, you’ve heard my account! Seen the element! You’ve seen the ring! How can you not believe me?”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe you – or in you, for that matter. It’s just … I have a difficult time agreeing to your hypothesis with the given evidence.”

  “What do mean?” Fort implored with exasperation. “What do you think the evidence points toward?”

  “Well, back in ‘97, the people in the town said it looked like a human and you said it yourself the body in the coffin was a man. Maybe he was some wealthy fellow like yourself. Maybe he found the element somewhere, and built his own experimental flying ship. And maybe he was out flying around in it one day and crashed it into that windmill. What about that? Maybe he has men like Envar who work for him, just like you? What if it was his men who recovered him and the ship?”

  “They weren’t ‘men like Envar’, they were different! And reportedly, his last words were ‘All for Mars’!”

  “Oh, Charles! They sound exactly like hired henchmen! And maybe he was saying, ‘All for Marsha’ or ‘All for Margaret’ and died before he could finish! Maybe he loved his wife and she was the most important thing to him!” Ripley caught himself and slowed down, lowering his eyes. “The ring is just a ring, and this Zoltar thing could be some wild story. This is not solid evidence or good testimony, Charles. You may be biased yourself. Maybe you want there to be Martians out there to chase?”

  “I can’t believe your floccinaucinihilipilification! Is that what you really believe, Ripley?”

  “I don’t know what that means, Charles.” Fort smirked as Ripley shook his head of the distraction before continuing, “And I’m not sure what to think. I feel like if it wasn’t Martians, you would still be running off chasing something, somewhere. You seem to avoid ever going home and it doesn’t make any sense. You have the most beautiful home and an absolutely lovely wife. When was the last time you even saw Anna?”

  Fort thought for a moment. “Sunday. I was home for dinner on Sunday and spent the night.”

  Ripley scrunched up his face and grabbed his forehead. “Charles, today is Sunday. It’s been a week. Don’t you think she might be worried about you?”

  Even Fort was surprised to realize it was indeed Sunday again. “No. I send messages with Envar most evenings. She knows I’m going away and that I must prepare.”

  “She still doesn’t know about any of this, does she?” Ripley gestured towards the blueprints of the Nimbus on the walls.

  “No. She can’t. She wouldn’t understand any of this. Ripley, Anna is fine. She’s happy with her routines, the parrots, and going to moving pictures. That’s all she wants and needs.”

  “I’m sure she must want more.” Ripley involuntarily lowered his eyes again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Fort raised his eyebrow. The silence was becoming unbearable when Fort finally spoke. “A tendency to estimate something as worthless…”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Floccinaucinihilipilification. That’s what it means. A tendency to estimate something as worthless. It’s what you’re doing to something I care very much about.”

  Ripley was puzzled. “Are you referring to your wife?”

  “No. Yes. I’m talking about this whole project! Ripley,
with this ship I will be able to investigate and collect evidence and specimens from supernatural and paranormal events wherever they happen. And then I can transport it wherever I want. Here in New York, London, St. Petersburg, anywhere. We can navigate to an exact place without having to cross deserts or jungles. Cross any seas and ignore any border. Ripley, we’ll be free men!”

  “So you’re not speaking of Anna?”

  Fort pursed his lips. “What are you saying?”

  “Well, maybe you’re the one who’s doing the flockelnauseling-thing with your wife,” Ripley said with a little snark as he looked toward the ceiling.

  Fort sighed and shook his head. “Let’s end this conversation. I’m leaving for Egypt as soon as possible to find the man Zoltar. And not you or Anna, or any Martian sympathizer is going to stop me. That’s the end of it. Now will you still open the hangar roof for me tonight or do I need to find an alternative measure?

  “Yes, yes, of course I will, Charles.”

  “Good. Then let’s head downstairs and I’ll show what I need you to do.” Fort got up and walked around his desk. He put his hand on his shorter friend’s neck and squeezed it hard. “Come on, Ripley, old boy. Everything is going to be fine.”

  As he was pulled to the doorway, Ripley had the most troubling feeling in the pit of his stomach that everything wasn’t going to be fine. Not at all.

  Fort and Ripley walked downstairs in silence to the hangar floor. They were both thinking about what the other had said. They had been best friends for many years and often debated, but this felt different. It was like something important was fraying.

  Coming down the stairs they could see Envar setting up yet another large work light on a metal stand. Several were already in place, but not turned on. All the electricity they could spare was being directed to charge the Nimbus’ enormous dry battery array. It was hoped – or more accurately, hypothesized – that if a sufficient amount of energy could be put into Fort’s experimental Gyrocore with the element in its center, then perhaps the system could maintain enough electricity to run itself perpetually. The element had proven capable of magnifying a charge; now if they could split the discharge in the right amounts, they would be able to operate the Gyrocore, feed the element, and keep the batteries full. It would be a perpetual motion machine. The key was to syphon off enough energy to the batteries and the Gyrocore to keep the element from becoming an unwieldy nightmare. Fort had intentionally neglected to explain these parts of what was about to happen to Ripley, knowing full well that it would be too much for him to handle. And as confident as Fort and Nikola were in their theories and designs, the truth was they really did not know what would happen when the experiment was tested. They were bold pioneers entering a dark realm of the unknown, and it was no place for fearful men. They knew there were grave risks involved, but if they were right they would wrestle away the hold gravity held over them. For a man with dreams like Fort, he would risk everything for that ability. As for Nikola, it was another opportunity to abuse the fundamental forces of the universe itself like a heretic of science.