Falling Against Gravity Read online

  Just then, a loud boom went off and a piece of the gatepost exploded near Fort’s head. Fort immediately ducked, turned, and ran headlong into the other gatepost, knocking himself flat out. As he started to come to, he thought he saw a blurry image of an older woman standing over him with twigs and leaves in her hair. She was holding a muzzleloader shotgun and frantically pulling a rod out of the barrel, wearing only her grass stained slip and bent spectacles. She pointed the shotgun into Fort’s face.

  “Don't move, Martian! Your invasion stops now!” she yelled, spittle flying from her lips.

  Fort scrambled from his prone position. He put his back up against the gatepost, throwing his hands up in front of him. The woman jabbed the shotgun in his direction, closing in on him.

  “I got you, Martian! Hold still!”

  “No, ma'am! Please, don't shoot! I beg you.” Fort continued to wave his hands frantically between them.

  “Mrs. Proctor, don't shoot Mr. Fort! He's hunting Martians, too! He wanted to meet you. He's like you!”

  Fort pointedly looked the woman up and down. “Well, I’m not sure if that's quite accurate,” he noted, a bit snidely, and then immediately regretted it when she raised the barrel to his head.

  “Garfield, how do you know this Martian?”

  “He’s not a Martian, Mrs. Proctor. He came to town looking for Martians, too!”

  “Well, yes, I suppose,” Fort said, slowly standing up. “I heard you came face-to-face with the creature.”

  She lowered the shotgun. “I did. It was horrible! And there's another one around here. I saw him crawling around out here.”

  Fort wildly twisted his head back and forth. “What? Really? Where?”

  “My glasses are a bit broken. He had the same shiny suit as the other feller had. I saw him over by the garden shed, and I was heading over there when I saw you.”

  “You really think there's a spaceman in your garden shed?” Garfield whispered, excitedly. “Like, right now? This very instant?”

  “They’re brazen. He waved at me, boy! It's the beginning of an invasion, I'm telling you!”

  “Can we see it, Mrs. Proctor?” Garfield asked.

  Fort started to slowly to lower his hands. “How about we investigate it together? What do you say?”

  “I think you look unarmed,” Mrs. Proctor said, gripping her weapon tightly. “And you're not touching my shotgun. You’ll need to fend for yourself.”

  Fort nodded. “Very well. Show us the way.”

  As the trio walked through the yard, the boy picked up a shovel and handed it to Fort. “You might need this,” he suggested as he gave him the weapon.

  Slowly, the strange partners rounded a corner of a building and saw the garden shed. They stared at it silently when all of a sudden a silver-sleeved arm smacked the side of the building from underneath. Fort and Garfield’s eyes popped out of their heads. The old girl stayed cool, raising her gun slowly. “I told you they were here.”

  ***

  Zoya stopped in a precarious position, almost upside down, while still nimbly working amongst the craft’s rafters. She turned to face Ripley, who was still staring at the floor. “I'm sorry, Leroy, are you going to try and tell me Mr. Fort found a spaceman under that woman's garden shed? I cannot believe this.”

  Ripley smiled. “Now see, you're jumping ahead. You …” He looked up at Zoya and started to retch. “Don’t do that! Please!” He almost threw up as he saw where she was stationed midair.

  Zoya nimbly righted herself and effortlessly climbed with a spider’s grace into the ribs of the upper hull. “Keep watching the floor and let out some more of the cable. And please, carry on with your tale.”

  With a heavy sigh of resignation, Ripley lifted his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I can’t remember where I left off.”

  Zoya turned back to her work. “There was something underneath the garden shed.”

  “Oh, yes. Right. So the trio continued to move forward towards the object, not knowing what they were about to encounter…”

  ***

  Again, Fort, Garfield and Mrs. Proctor saw a silver arm smack the building, as if someone were trying to get out from under the small space beneath the building.

  “Hold your fire, Mrs. Proctor.” Fort tilted his head. “He looks stuck under there.”

  “You grab him by the arm and pull'em out. Then I'll blast him.”

  “Please, Mrs. Proctor, he might be hurt.”

  “That's when they're the most dangerous. When they're wounded.”

  “I think she’s right,” Garfield piped up. “Just like wild animals, Mr. Fort.”

  “Will you two please calm down?” Fort implored.

  They continued to creep closer. They could see a silver sleeved arm lying with its palm up, and one of its fingers moving slowly. Fort noticed that it had a decadent ring on its middle finger. Garfield stepped on a brittle stick and the arm spasmed at the sound.

  “Don't be alarmed,” he started, loudly and clearly. “I am Charles Fort, a human ambassador of Earth. We mean you no harm.”

  “Like spit, we don’t!” Mrs. Proctor whispered.

  Fort crossly looked behind him. “Mrs. Proctor, please! Point that blunderbuss somewhere else.”

  “It’s a shotgun, you ninny,” she spat.

  Fort shook his head and reached down to grab the shiny wrist. He braced himself and pulled. The severed arm came free and Fort fell backwards, startled by his gruesome and bloody find. An angry dog instantly burst out from under the building, barking maniacally. Fort sat back on his haunches, surprised to find himself holding a bloody arm. The angry canine leapt for the flesh and bone wrapped in a crinkly, foil-looking sleeve. Fort rolled away in escape and scrambled to his feet as the dog made another running leap. Fort swung the arm in defense, battling the dog, until it turned into a vicious and disgusting tug-of-war, Fort pulling on the hand, and the dog tugging at the humerus bone. Suddenly, the ornate ring came off as Fort fell backward. The dog realized that this was its only chance to escape with the bounty and ran down the hill with the arm.

  Mrs. Proctor fired into the air. “Get outta here, Ozzie! You horrible creature!” She regained her composure and explained to Fort, “That's the town's mangy fleabag. Disgusting!”

  Fort looked stunned. He crawled over to the ring and held it up, looking through it. “Mrs. Proctor, was that the arm of your dead spaceman?”

  “Ha! I'll bet it was! He was missing one. Good riddance.”

  “Where is the rest of him ... of it? And the craft?”

  “Well, Jeremiah had some local fellows haul it all away somewhere, three days back. Martian, machine, all of it!”

  “That's the judge, her husband,” Garfield explained to Fort.

  “Excellent! At least it's been taken somewhere safe, out of the elements. And where can I find the good judge?”

  A half hour later, Fort and Garfield briskly strut down the wooden sidewalk alongside Main Street. Mrs. Proctor let them know that her husband was working today, and Garfield knew the location. “It's right up here, Mr. Fort!”

  “Most expeditious, my young man. Good job.” Fort pulled a wrapped sweet out of his pocket and pushed it at the boy, tussling his hair with the other hand.

  Once they got to their destination, Fort instructed, “Wait out here, and please don't go anywhere. I'll need your tactical help again.” Garfield dutifully nodded his head and sat outside on a bench in front of the building. He was never so excited in his life. His mother never let him have candy, they couldn’t afford it. He slowly and blissfully unwrapped the treasure and popped it in his mouth. He crinkled the wrapper, noting how it sounded like sparks. Then he heard Fort yelling inside the office. At first, he couldn’t differentiate the words. The boy climbed up on the bench and placed his ear next to the glass window.

  “You did what with the evidence?!” Fort angrily sputtered.

  “We carted that evil refuse down to the old sour well out the old town road,
broke it into pieces and threw it all down the well. Then they poured rocks and boulders on top of it,” Judge Proctor responded.

  “Why would you do that? That was evidence! That could be amazing and valuable technology from another planet.” Fort paced the room, pulling at his hair.

  “The wife said it was Martian, but I say it was the devil's technology. And meant for no good man.”

  “And the ‘Martian'? You didn't throw him down there too, did you?”

  The judge sneered with disgust. “We are a highly civilized people here in Texas, Mr. Fort. Doc Conway declared it dead. We gave it a proper Christian funeral and buried it in the back of the old town’s cemetery.”

  “Of course you did! Lunacy!” Fort put his hands on his head, pulling his forehead back in disbelief.

  “Watch your tongue with me, sonny.” Judge Proctor pointed a stubby finger at him.

  Bringing his arms down and clenching his palms together, Fort passionately implored, “Why couldn’t you have just stored the wreckage away or put the body somewhere cool until proper authorities arrived to decide what should be done?”

  The judge stood up at his desk. “Look here, Mister New York City! Around here I am the ‘proper authority’! You don’t come down to Texas, sir, and tell us how to do things! We know what to do! Getting rid of that abhorrent, unholy machine was the right thing. Who knows what kind of evil that thing brought to our good town or what kind of evil it could attract here? You have no idea the horror that, that … thing brought down onto my good wife. It’s made her insane! So, yes, I got rid of the damned thing and it couldn’t be done soon enough. There is only one way into heaven, sir, and a flying contraption isn’t it!”

  Fort burst out the judge's office loudly cursing to himself, and was about to take off when he realized he wasn’t sure which direction.

  ***

  Zoya stood at the top of the frame of the Nimbus ship. She looked at Ripley and started laughing. “That is hilarious. I'm surprised Mr. Fort didn't go and dig it up. I've seen how he gets.”

  Ripley looked up, shrugged his shoulders, and sheepishly let out a “Weeeeeelllllll…” He had nothing to do with what he was about to share, so he was unsure why he blushed a little.

  Zoya’s bright eyes widened. “No! He didn't!”

  Ripley winced as he nodded. Zoya's mouth was completely agape. Then they both shared a chuckle.

  “Now you have to tell me more. You talk while we work.” Zoya loved a good story, but not at the expense of productivity. She lifted her chin, motioning Ripley to his task. “We need to put the cable around the rail and pull it taut and hold it tight.”

  Ripley did as he was told, carefully lifting the spool up and passing it over and under the rail a few times. He then pulled it as tight as he possibly could. He was a bit embarrassed that Zoya might be stronger than him. He looked at his spindly hands and wrists and sighed. He was not a physical man. His keen interest in books kept him from living life in the real world. He was more comfortable reading about strong men than being one. Nevertheless, he had a task to do and would try hard to do it as well as he could. “Alright, I'm holding it. Now what?”

  “Pull it really tight. Hold fast.”

  Ripley pulled on the spool with all his might. Zoya then unhooked her harness and slid down the cable using only her wrench. Ripley had his back to her so he couldn’t see what Zoya was doing but he could feel her weight pulling down on the cable as she zoomed along the line. He tried to look over his shoulder to see what was happening, but it exacerbated his vertigo. Zoya’s boots made a loud booming sound as she landed on the metal plate floor directly behind him. Ripley jumped a foot in the air with fright, squealing loudly before falling over backwards.

  “Mercy! Don't do that! My heart can't take it!” he gasped, clutching himself. He looked up at where she came from and realized what she did. “And that's n-not safe either! Not one bit!” Ripley leaned on the railing, placing two fingers on his neck to take his pulse. He was sure he was going to have a heart attack. Or die of embarrassment.

  “I'm sorry, Leroy, I am just in a rush today. I truly did not mean to scare you.” She put her hand on his shoulder and her touch made his stomach tingle.

  Suddenly, Fort and Nikola hurriedly entered the space.

  “What happened?” Fort asked, concerned. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, we're fine. I just gave poor Leroy a start.”

  Ripley stopped taking his pulse. “Yes, Charles, I’ll be fine. As soon as I swallow my heart again.”

  Fort dubiously looked at the pair. “That’s good … all good.” He changed the topic and got back to business. “Have you replaced the fin control cable yet?”

  “We've just got the cable hung,” Zoya reported. “I still need to cut it to length and splice it.”

  “Zoya, we're falling behind schedule again. We have to start test flights before week’s end and we'll only be able to do the tests at night. I have to be in Cairo before the end of the next new moon. And we don't even know for certain what this ship’s top speed is yet!”

  “Mr. Fort, I am only one woman. If you don't want to bring in more help, I can only do so much. But if you stop wasting my time, I'll be done of my work sooner.”

  Fort looked at her, agog. “Wasting your time?”

  “She is not responsible for your timeline, Fort.” Nikola piped up. “You are trying to rush a miracle.”

  Zoya was offended that Nikola felt the need to step up to her defense. She climbed through the rail and jumped down to where the men were standing. Annoyed with both men she snapped, “I can speak for myself, Niko.”

  Nikola threw his hands up. He thought of Zoya as a daughter. He could see her potential. She had a keen mind that less enlightened men would feel was wasted on a woman. Nikola had no time for gender, such constructs were for lesser minds to consider. He only cared about the intellect, he didn’t care whether the formulas or theories were coming from a man or a woman. Or even the eccentric fringe, like the annoying Charles Fort.

  Fort looked at his crew, his chestnut brown eyes going in both directions. “My timeline is set by forces outside of my control. You two assured me the Nimbus would be ready by now. Otherwise I would have taken a steamer weeks ago.”

  “Well, if you hadn't bumped your head and gone to sleep for week we would've been ready,” Nikola grumbled in his Slavic accent.

  Fort pointed to the deep scar on his head while glaring at Nikola. “I was comatose!” Fort yelled, slowly and loudly.

  Nikola, Zoya, and Fort all started arguing over top of each other. Fort repeatedly pointed to his injuries that were still plastered shut from his recent exploits with the underground mole men. Nikola shook his arms skyward in frustration, and Zoya chopped one open hand into the other to emphasize her perspective, her red hair escaping its ponytail as she whipped her head around.

  The emotional temperature and volume rose to a level that made Ripley excruciatingly uncomfortable. He desperately tried to think of the most rational response to the situation, but as the pressure built beyond a containable level he ultimately just ended up yelling even louder than anyone else. “Stop it! All of you! Stop it!”

  The three abruptly ended their heated debate and turned their heads upward to face Ripley.

  “This isn't helping anything! You all need each other. No one else can do this, achieve this. You need to support each other, not tear one another apart.” Ripley paused for effect. “Only by reinforcing each other and combining your amazing skills and talents is this ever going to happen!” He looked them in the eyes for emphasis. “You know I'm right.”

  Nikola and Fort looked a little sheepish. Zoya was unchanged.

  “Charles, let Zoya and me finish up in here. Go make coffee and a battle plan. Nikola, can you go splice the other end of this cable?”

  Without another word both men numbly nodded and went on their way.

  “We'll all meet in thirty minutes for a break. Now, let's get to work,” Riple
y shouted after them.

  Fort looked back and shared a thankful smile with Ripley. This is why you need to come with us, old friend, Fort thought as he rubbed his chin.

  A half an hour later, the crew met around Fort’s messy desk with hot coffees. The dark Mexican brew was made especially strong to reinvigorate the team. This was a night that they needed to stay awake and be sharp. Fort looked past the steam wafting from the tops of the mugs, his forehead deeply furrowed in thought. “So, really, once we finish calibrating the tail fin, I think we can rotate the rings again. Then we can both add the ‘element’ into the housing and take the mercury up and pour it in the system. After that, how long is your estimate to charge the batteries, Nikola?”

  Nikola did the math in his head. “Two days and one half.” He scratched at his waft of messy grey hair and wrinkled his forehead. “If we use water wheel, as well ... maybe one day and one half. River’s running good.”

  “Oh that's stupendous, let's do that. And Zoya, how long do you think it will take to pump out that drum of mercury?”

  “It will take around one hour to hoist it up there and if two of us go up and pump it ... two hours.”

  Fort looked up excitedly. “Excellent, we'll do that! I'll go up with you and help pump it. And Ripley, maybe you could help Zoya prepare the barrel and hoist while Nikola and I take care of the element.”

  “Certainly. I love, er, enjoy helping Zoya. I mean, if she wants me, er, needs me. Well, obviously she doesn’t need me, she’s very capable but if she’d like my help. I’d be delighted to help her.” Ripley’s soft mousy hair fell over his glasses as he stammered and shook his head. He blew at his hair with a huge puff of breath, releasing his exasperation at his awkwardness in a hearty exhale.

  Tenderly, with a smile, Zoya looked over at Ripley. “Good, you can finish telling me your story.”

  Ripley nodded shyly with a sheepish grin then glanced towards Fort, who was busily scribbling and playing with figures on his notepad. Everyone quietly sipped at their coffee, waiting for him to finish.