Eyes of an Eagle a Novel of Gravity Controlled Read online

  The muscles in my lower abdomen hurt from the pressure of my over extended bladder and laughter. I slowly finished cleaning and limped to the kitchen. I needed to replace my fluids! I was on my second glass of orange juice when I fell asleep.

  Bang, bang, bang. I didn't want to move but the pounding continued. I tried to wake, but failed. I tried again and succeeded in lifting my head. I watched the warm glass of orange juice for a while. Then I saw Move-over staring at me from the other side of the kitchen table. Finally, I focused on the front door and the knocking coming from it. I started to answer the door but had to turn back to set the glass back on the kitchen table. When I got to the door, it had turned quiet. For an instant, I stopped to wonder why the door had stopped making noise. Opening the door, I saw a figure walking away.

  “Yes” I croaked out.

  The figure turned. It was Tabitha. “Hi, I thought no one was home.” She walked closer. A grin came to her face. “You must keep late hours.” Before I could say anything, her face turned serious and she continued, “With the cops, lawyers, and everything else I never got a chance to thank you.” After a pause, “Thank you."

  “Come in. I'm still half-asleep. I'll make coffee."

  When she hesitated, I said, “Come on. I need to wake-up and the coffee's not going to get made standing out here."

  The grin came back to her face. “If you don't mind me saying so ... You look like hell."

  “I've been busy."

  With what?"

  I had to tell someone about what I had found, someone who would understand. “I think I just discovered a way to make artificial gravity."

  “Sure you did ... You're serious!"

  The next hours were more fun than I had in years. I explained what I had done and showed her the equations and computer predictions. The computer room is crowded when two chairs are put in front of the screen. I could feel her excitement, her movement, and smell her scent. It was stimulating. It was erotic.

  Suddenly she turned. Her face was alive. “Let's build it and see if it works?"

  “Let's!"

  She grabbed me and hugged. For the first time in my life I melted into another's arms. I held her till she stopped moving. I finally forced myself away. I looked at her face. It was soft now with a hint of moistness around her eyes. I finally took a deep breath. “Let's make a list. We need to span as much of the electromagnetic spectrum as we can. The equations show that we need a broad band of frequencies for it to work."

  “Yes a list."

  Chapter 5

  Experimenting

  I needed to get outside after spending the last few weeks’ proofreading and working on artificial gravity. This is northern Minnesota so I loaded number 7 birdshot in my father's old Harrington single-shot shotgun to carry. I wasn't planning on using the gun, but for walking through the woods it is expected to carry something—a saw, an axe, a gun, or a camera.

  The morning was beautiful. Ice fog covered the land. The trees, grasses, and buildings were frosted. The morning light penetrated the low-lying clouds reflecting off the frosted ground in sparkles of pink and blue. The ground was slightly warmer than the ice fog so the mist stopped about five feet from any objects. If I squatted down, I could see clearly the forest line across the field. The frosted grass crunched with every step. Every breath I took was fresh and clean. Frost formed on my eye lashes and nose hairs. By the time I reached the logging road at the end of the field, I was in heaven.

  The farm's woods were crisscrossed with trails wide enough for a tractor pulling a wood cart. I entered the maze grateful to be lost for a while. In the corner of the woods, a red oak had blown over a few years back during a storm. My father and I had cut the broken tree into firewood but we had left the shattered stump. When I had moved back home this last summer, I had taken my chainsaw and carved the stump into a chair. That was my first goal for the day. I sat on the cold wood. Closed my eyes. And listened to the soft sounds of the forest.

  When Tabitha and I started the project, we knew we would need a base to build the contraption on. My father, like all old time farmers, had an equipment graveyard behind the fields in the woods. There were three cars, two Alice-Chalmers tractors, and a 1953 Ford truck stripped and rusting in between the trees. The vehicles had given their parts to keep the other farm equipment working. We pulled the empty transmission case from an old Dodge and mounted it on blocks in the garage.

  We needed to concentrate the waves so the first thing we did was buy a satellite dish and mount it on the face of the transmission. We would have trouble adjusting frequencies in the light range so we began by

  buying four identical laser pointers. Mounting them on the edge of the transmission case with bolts and clamps we lined them up so their beams met at the focus of the dish.

  If you throw two rocks in a pond, you will see that the waves on the surface will interfere with each other. They will build up in spots and disappear in others. We wanted the electromagnetic waves to build at the focus until they collapsed and became gravity. From my work, I knew that certain frequency ratios like 3:1, 5:2, 4:1, 2:1, and 7:2 were unstable. I also knew that other ratios like 1:1 and 3:2 combinations were stable. Using the frequency of the lasers as a starting point, we mounted radio transmitters in the stable frequencies that would broadcast into the dish. I talked the local phone-company into selling an outdated microwave transmitter to me and Tabitha borrowed an infrared unit from the college. Before we could start testing, we needed at least one more microwave transmitter and two more in the radio broadcast range.

  Tabitha had gone to see what else she could get from her college and to clear up some problems she had with her financial aid so I had taken the day off. When I opened my eyes, I knew what I would see.

  Three feet away a red squirrel stood on his haunches watching. In a near by tree, two nuthatches hunted for food. They took turns. One watched while the other fed.

  The air became warmer, but the fog didn't lift. It thickened and settled closer to the ground. Without the frost, the damp leaves made no noise when I walked. In a silent blanket, I wondered through the woods. The only sounds I heard were the rustling of the small animals that watched. From memory, I threaded my way back home. Nearing the edge of the woods, I stopped. The nuthatches fluttered in front of me. They settled on a near by tree. One looked off to the edge of the woods and the other glanced back and forth between his mate and me. I followed the bird's gaze. Slowly out of the mist, I made out the back of a man. He was watching the farm buildings.

  “Is there something I can help you with?"

  The man jumped. Dropping his binoculars, he stood nervously looking at me. As he tried to clear his throat to make a reply, I could see him glance at the old shotgun I had in my hands.

  “Just walking in the woods ... I got turned around in the fog.” He turned sideways to me and pointed past the buildings. “Is that county road 26?"

  “Yes."

  “Thanks."

  He headed off across the fields. I walked over to where he had been standing. The grass and leaves were dry. He had to have been standing there for hours watching the farm. What was going on?

  * * * *

  The Chameleon loved this planet. Unlike most intelligent species the one here had very little herd or family organization. This species consisted of individuals with only a visage left of family units and the herd had fragmented into strange overlapping groupings. Regional herds were fragmented by national, which were then fragmented by state and various local communities. Then overlapping herds made up of religious and social groups spread across the large territorial groupings, making a mesh of competing loyalties. That meant the Chameleon only had to deal with one individual at a time. She was more than a match for anyone she had encountered.

  She did to the people she encountered what her Users did to the worlds they savaged. She learned everything she could about the person. Swindled what she could from them and stole the rest. She used five people since she too
k her last prey. Her bank account now numbered in the millions of dollars. There again she thought, “What a wonderful planet!” Money was such an anonymous way to calculate success here.

  The Chameleon would start her new job today, executive vice president. The old vice president had been her lover until she doctored the books and told his wife about the affair. Her new office had just been refurbished. After all, you can't just scrub clean brains, blood and bullet a hole after a suicide. Great Users! She loved this planet. Maybe she would retire here. It was so fun.

  Chapter 6

  Response

  Leena had trouble sleeping. The bed was cold. She had sent her husband Fred to sleep on the couch after she heard about his helping Blythe and Jones mess with the Czeminskis’ bank accounts.

  Leena had had a crush on Earl Czeminski in high school. He was so tall and his legs looked so good in his basketball shorts. Martha was a cheerleader and had the inside track with Earl but Leena just couldn't help fantasizing about Earl's long legs and butt during each basketball game. She never regretted marrying Fred but she always had a soft spot for Earl. She was furious with Fred for helping those out-of-towners, Blythe and Jones, hurt Earl and his family. Fred was the president of the bank. He should have stood up to Blythe and Jones even if Blythe had the most money in the bank. Fred knew that he personally would take care of Earl's financial problems or he wasn't going to get back into bed anytime soon.

  Leena decided she would call Olga in the morning before the first soaps started. Oggie would know how to handle outsiders.

  “Oggie?"

  “Leena. Did you catch the end of Hospital? I think Julie is going to leave Spencer."

  “You're, kidding. Is she going after Carlos?"

  “I think so."

  “Oggie, do you remember Earl Czeminski?"

  “Oh, yes. He had great legs. I loved the way his ass looked when he bent over bouncing the ball before a free throw."

  “Well, that rich guy Friedrick Blythe and his lawyer Johnny Jones have it in for Earl."

  “You're kidding! Why?"

  “You know about those kids trying to rob the video store a couple of weeks ago."

  “Ya."

  “The girl that stopped them was Earl's daughter Tabitha and the boy that helped was Danny Karpinen, Hazel's boy. Wellll, it was Blythe's son, Jordan, with the Jorgenson brat who tried to rob the place. Blythe wants to get back at Tabitha and Danny.

  “My Fred told me that Blythe and Jones said they would pull their money out of the bank unless he called in all the loans the Czeminskis had. Fred pulled the loans but I told him he had to fix things or he would be sleeping on the couch for the next year."

  “Good for you. My Tom better not be helping Blythe or he won't be doing any sheriffing in my bedroom.

  I'll make sure that Tom will spread the news to the other deputies to keep an eye out for any dirty tricks by Blythe or Jones."

  “Ya ... Uknow, Oggie. I think Julie is pregnant with Mitch's child."

  “Damnit. I knew I should have taped Days yesterday..."

  * * * *

  “Erma?"

  “Sylvia?"

  “Yes. Just got off the phone with Oggie. Did you hear Mitch got Julie pregnant?"

  “You're kidding, Mitch? I thought it would have been Bruce."

  “And did you know about Blythe making trouble for Earl?"

  “Not Legs Czeminski!"

  “Yup, Legs. And he is also going after Hazel's son, Dan."

  “Goddamnit, Syl. We godda do something about that..."

  * * * *

  “Emma, this is Betty again. I just got off the phone with Eleanor. She talked to Zoe, Stella, and Fran. With Helga, Johanna, Marta, and Gretta we will have enough votes to pull the investments of our Coffee Klutch Club from Blythe's company. Gertrude said her Al will take care of placing the new investments.

  “Did you hear what Margrete did when she heard about Jeff helping Blythe?"

  “What?"

  “She grabbed him by the nuts and hauled his ass outside. She yelled at him for twenty minutes. Someone called the cops because Leena's Tom showed up. Tom got things settled down."

  “That sounds like Marg. Do you remember the time in tenth grade when she found out David was seeing Sylvia on the side?"

  “Oh, yes. David couldn't walk straight for a week and Syl still doesn't talk to Marg."

  “Julie left Spencer and moved in with Carlos."

  “Damn. Blythe made me miss Hospital. He's going to pay for that..."

  * * * *

  John W. Jones was worried. Friedrick Blythe was not a man to take bad news lightly. By now Earl Czeminski should have been trying to sell his assets. The video store closed. The small laundromat should have a ‘for sale’ sign in the window. And he should have been laid off his job at the electric co-operative.

  This was crazy. Fred at the bank was putting off talking to him. Jeff at the co-operative stopped accepting his calls. And his local contact in the prosecutor's office had said that she wasn't going to be giving him any more information. He still had the local prosecutor in his pocket but the judge was starting to act hinky. Plus, it seemed that Blythe's companies had become a take-over target for some Wall Street investor. Jones was trying to stem the losses while finding out which investment firm was organizing the raid. But the biggest stock sale hadn't come from New York. It was some small Midwest company he couldn't track down that was incorporated under the strange name of Coffee Klutch Club.

  God. It was only a half-hour before his next meeting with Blythe. He couldn't even give Blythe something on Daniel Karpinen. His employer was in Chicago and the company was large enough that Jones hadn't found any leverage that would work with the company to get him fired.

  Chapter 7

  Fizzle

  It was the Christmas holidays and Tabitha and I were finally ready to test out our contraption. We worked for hours in the old garage so we could finish testing the setup before she had to leave for the start of the next semester in January. Tabitha said her financial problems were finally straightened out.

  The old garage was cold so I dragged in an old propane salamander to keep the edge off while we were working. The salamander was able to hold the temperature just warm enough so we could work without our gloves and jackets. The old cement floor never got warm from the heater. I layered a dozen old gunnysacks around the Dodge transmission to cushion the concrete and keep the cold back. My legs just couldn't handle the hours of kneeling on the cement without the layers of burlap.

  The salamander had been running for an hour. Our breath stopped making steam and we started to sweat. Taking off my jacket, I snatched a quick look at Tabby while she shrugged off hers. The fabric of her shirt pulled tight as she wiggled free. God was she built!

  We triple checked the connections. The satellite dish was bolted firmly to the Dodge transmission. The four laser pointers were as close as we could get to the focus of the dish. We had five radio transmitters placed around the outside of the dish using the dish to reflect the signals to the focus. The two microwave and one infrared transmitters were balanced between the other units along the edge of the dish. We backed away, shaded our eyes and turned the switch on.

  Nothing happened.

  I rocked the switch back and forth a few times. Still nothing happened.

  I looked at Tabitha. She looked at me. A smile formed on her face. Giggles started and full belly laughs followed. We hung on to each other, sides hurting, legs wobbling, trying to keep from peeing.

  Through the laughter I felt Tabby's muscles move. Still laughing, I wanted to feel more. My hands went beneath her flannel shirt. Her hands unbuckled my pants. We rolled onto the gunnysacks, clothes pulled apart, laughing. Our skin felt so warm compared to the cold of the garage. We pressed ourselves together reveling in the warmth. The course weave of burlap rubbed the skin where her warm flesh didn't touch. The laughter stopped as the burlap rubbed my knees raw and started again when we finished.
>
  We pulled our clothes together, turned the salamander off, and ran to my bedroom. Clothes went flying again but this time there was no laughter. I watched every move her body made as we rolled and moved in time with each other. It was much later. Tabitha was asleep. I was watching small droplets of sweat roll down her body around her breasts. Every droplet took a different path. I blew on her bare chest watching the goosebumps change the direction of the droplets. That was it! The equations showed that every electromagnetic transmission had to be at an exact frequency and at an exact nexus. Our contraption couldn't be exact. Just the changes in air temperature would sift the transmissions. I would have to fuzz the transmitters so they would cover a small band of frequencies close to what we needed. That way they would combine when, by chance or chaos, everything matched the frequencies we wanted.

  I blew again on her bare skin. This time not only did goosebumps form but her nipples hardened. A pair of arms grabbed me and pulled me in.

  I woke first and slipped out of bed. I started to tiptoe out of the bedroom until I saw the two hearing aids on the headboard. I felt eyes on my naked body. I looked at sleeping Tabitha. Eyes shut. Move-over was on a dresser top lying upside down and stretched out. His slitted eyes glowed from under his nose and between his dangling front paws.

  “Move-over, you old voyeur. Did you get an eyeful?"

  I dressed and went to the garage. I had an idea about running the output from an old boombox into the transmitters to fuzzy the signals. I was just bolting the boombox to the Dodge transmission when the door opened.