Maggie's Unfortunate Confrontation

Perfect World story (The NOW) Maggie Larter chapter 2

Prologue:

Maggie Larter was a shining star in the field of Astrophysics-- she had a gift. Ever since those summer nights of her youth at the summer home upstate with her dad, checking out constellations in the inky black sky, Maggie was in love with outer space and longed to be closer to it.

Years passed and Maggie received a scholarship to a prestigious university, earned her degree, then got offers by a number of space research facilities, choosing one close to home. She loved her job but was less interested in Brown Dwarves or minor planetoids than in her one burning desire-- to look back, before time began. Maggie had a theory that the Big Bang wasn't the beginning of everything, only the latest version of everything. She wanted to see more.

She proposed a new type of telescope design, but it was far too expensive and ambitious for her employer, the ailing US government, to research or build, but her superior was convinced she should build the thing she had dubbed the Magmatic Coronascope so graciously tore up her contract so that she might sniff out a deep pocketed private investor.

It became apparent to her, before too long, that most investors couldn't visualize the benefit of seeing so impossibly far back in time that they would be observing the previous Universe. That left her exactly nowhere. She needed to work-- her money was drying up but couldn't find another science program interested in her. She turned to gambling at the local card club and did well, for awhile. Then her luck went south and she was in debt to a gang and on the run, so reluctantly asked her sister a few states over for a place to crash. Loading what she could into her hi-tech backpack with all its fancy gizmos, she set off on the road.

And then came Aden.

Chopper got the word from his Collector almost instantly and overturned a heavy oak table in his ire. "Find the bitch!" was all he said, sending his entire gang off to task. This was fun for them- it was a hunt, and the reward at the end was a plaything which would be chained to a bed in their clubhouse outside of town for weeks before eventually getting broken, and then buried in the woods with the rest.

Clues began trickling in. She had not cleaned her apartment thoroughly in her haste and had left receipts on the floor and a few old pictures stuck to the wall, one with her and her sister in Omaha. "She's probably headed there," one grizzled biker grumbled into the phone. "Time to take a road trip, then, boys," Chopper smiled, revealing crooked crumbling teeth. That bitch would pay hard because she had made a fool of him, harder because she'd skipped out on him, and because she was cover girl material, he wanted to squash her face like an overripe tomato and let the gang tear into her.

They shook her old apartment manager within inches of his feeble life until he revealed which direction she had gone, then left him for dead just for fun. Forty thunderous motorcycles and riders headed off in her last known direction, revenge on their bloodthirsty minds.

Maggie awoke from her first good night's sleep since losing her job, and it was all thanks to this fantastic city she had uncovered. Peace of mind came easy here in Aden, she thought. She was ready to start her first official day in Astrophysicia, having met the Nerds yesterday. She was surprised to learn they already knew about her. "How?" she had asked.

"Come on... seriously? You made no secret of wanting to know what came before time began. How many astrophysicists wonder about that?" lead scientist Douglas Doughtry had asked incredulously. "I can't wait to see the design specs on that beauty! We've all decided," he smiled, gesturing to the other dozen brilliant minds in the room, "to put all of our projects on hold and help you with this one, Maggie. What do you need?"

She had been shocked. A day earlier she didn't even know this place existed, and now, just like that, she had been handed her lifelong dream! She had gone from unemployment to relative superstardom, receiving a big laboratory, vast equipment she barely recognized and best of all, anytime access to Hubble! She refused to pinch herself because if it was a dream, she never wanted to awaken.

After last night's debacle with Aden's unique shower she forced herself to take just a short rinse. The bathroom might become her go-to vacation spot from here on out-- the shower was just that good. She wanted to marry and have kids with it... but held off on reserving a chapel just yet. Instead she called out, "Morning, Connie! Can you send up a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of joe, please?"

"Sure, Maggie."

"I want to call my sister and tell her the news. Will that be a problem?"

The computer cautioned, "For now, Maggie, just tell her you got a job working at a research facility owned by FutureTech. Say you met a company representative while hitchhiking, and impressed the heck out of her. Mention there's a research facility you're working at with quarters in Southeast Idaho. Okay? Say it exactly that way and it is utterly true-- Aden was built by FutureTech and technically everybody in Aden works for them. I am an authorized representative for the company whom you met while hitchhiking, and you are working in a research facility that has quarters in southeast Idaho... even though the facility itself isn't. Don't mention that last part, okay?"

"I get it... security, secret city, magic talking cars, the whole works. No problem."

The computer chuckled. "I'll assume you're kidding." Maggie heard a dial tone, then ringing, and her sister answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, Tess!"

"Mook! Are you on top of a mountain? Your reception is great!"

"No. I'm not camping, and am no longer hiking. Long story short, I got a job!"

"What? Last time I spoke to you, you were hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere-- how did you get a job? What job?"

"I got a ride by a rep from FutureTech Corporation. Did you know they have a research facility in Idaho? We drove all night. Pook, I get to look through Hubble any time I want!"

Her sister screamed, then Maggie screamed. Tess shouted, "You have got to be the luckiest person on the face of the Earth, Mook! But, does that mean you're not coming to stay with me?"

"I'm sorry, big sis. This opportunity was just too good. Hey, they say I can go anywhere in the company jet three times a year-- I'm gonna come and visit you in about a month, once I'm settled in here, 'kay?"

"I guess I can wait. I miss you! Call me soon! Bye!"

With feigned disapproval Connie said, "Tut, tut... lying to your sister, Maggie? Drove all night? And who said anything about a company jet?"

"I'll get there somehow, Connie."

"True. You can take the VeeStreak and be given a vacation fund when you accumulate the credits."

"Credits?"

"You fulfill your obligation to the city by working ten hours a week. Any overtime earns credits for things like vacationing, fine wines or gourmet food, or anything found in limited quantities."

"Oh. Cool! What's the VeeStreak? You've mentioned it before."

"The Vaccu-Streak is a method of transportation unique to Aden. It's an underground maglev train running in a vacuum through a pin-straight tunnel, allowing it to move at up to 18,000 miles an hour. We have tunnels drilled to four main cities, and more tunnels to other cities from those, spiderwebbing their way through most large urban centers."

"I guess I won't need the company jet."

"We have those, too." Connie was suddenly silent for a moment, then said, "Do you know a man named Mr Sperenza?"

"Yes, my last landlord. What a nice old guy!"

"I'm sorry to report he was badly beaten by bikers, Maggie. Bikers who were looking for you."

Chopper watched Hemrage, his second in command, pull up alongside of him. He handed Chopper the photos from Maggie's apartment. "The kid recognized the girl. He said she stopped here. She was pretty chatty, too. Said she was gonna visit her sister."

"Tess, in Omaha. We got her address. Lemme talk to him."

Hemrage lifted his shades. "Too late. He didn't wanna talk. I had to convince him-- hard."

"Dumpster him, then. Did he point a direction before he croaked?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Gas up and let's go. We're ridin' hard today."

Chopper entered the gas station convenience mart on that lonely stretch of road. He kicked down the door with a jackbooted foot and cleaned out the register with a prybar from inside his leather jacket, sliding in the fresh blood on the floor. He motioned to Hemrage. "Hey, grab the smokes and booze and fill the saddlebags-- this place is loaded for bear." Hemrage nodded.

Chopper waited until the last motorcycle was gassed, murmured to his lookout man and mounted his hog. The gang pulled out of the station in noisy formation-- Chopper first, with Hemrage alongside, then the wicked Cleaner and Doubleslash, then the rest according to fight rank. Pulling out last was Kindle the lookout, who lit an oily rag and threw it over his shoulder back towards the station... which exploded in flame, lofting a black and gold fireball into the night sky.

They sped off into the night as the nearby propane tank exploded, propelled like a Saturn booster into the black, moonless sky.

Tears welled in Maggie's eyes. "Oh, my god! Poor Mr Sperenza... who's going to take care of his cats? He's all alone." Her eyes hardened. "That fucking Chopper! I could kill him!"

The computer chided gently, "There'll be no killing, Maggie. There are other, better ways. Are one of these men Chopper?" The wall TV came on, displaying a picture of two bikers kicking the landlord on the ground.

Maggie winced and turned away. "No. Chopper doesn't usually get his hands dirty, from what he told me. Those two are, I think Kindle, and for sure Hemrage-- Hemrage has the phrase "Fuck You" tattooed on his forehead, backwards the way ambulances do."

"Charming. How about this man?" Another picture came up of the lead driver in a bike pack.

"That's him! He runs the crooked gambling joint where I lost money. He's looking for payback." She scowled. "I'll always pay up on any legitimate loss, but since his decks were spiked he cheated, and I see no reason to pay him back."

"Me neither. I'm going to send out flyware to see if local law enforcement can take care of this, Maggie. I would not like to see any more people get hurt by this man and his dangerous gang."

"Flyware?"

"I send out an automated flying drone in the direction of their last known location. Along the way nanocams drop out to capture relevant images and sound I can use to coordinate with outside authorities. Many precincts are very cooperative."

"Nanocams?"

"Miniature cameras the size of flies with legs and wings for mobility. Solar powered, they can run indefinitely with a light source, sending images back through a daisy chain, one camera to the next, to the next, etcetera, and ultimately to me. What is his gang called?"

"The SkullCrusher Motorcycle Club."

"Delightful human beings. Go to Astrophysicia and work, Maggie... there's nothing you can do right now. Let me see what I can get done. Technology is a wonderful thing."

All around Aden a thousand people received the message via their bone conduction earwigs alerting them to report to Security level, on the double. People dropped what they were doing in shock-- it was the first such alert not preceded by the drill code-- this was the real thing! The Security arena filled quickly as concerned Adeners assumed their duties, receiving individual updates directly into their ears. Quietly people turned to their stations, making defensive preparations. Weaponry was assembled and distributed-- so was protective armor.

Modern materials prevented even Teflon-coated bullets from piercing the gear, and new computer-aided designs allowed full-cover armored body suits to have near-optimal flexibility. Their similarity to Star Wars storm troopers was eerie.

Wave after wave of strongly protected, interlinked defenders began training exercises, brushing up on an almost forgotten and completely distasteful duty-- quashing and securing other human beings.

In another part of Aden, live viewers at Central Brain were assisting the overworked city ICPU filter through thousands of images coming in from nanocams all over the county. The gang was spotted and the cameras optimized their view. Direction and speed was calculated. Priority images were fed to the face shields of security personnel for location and identification.

Aden was ready. They hoped nobody would get hurt.

A late night diner's flickering sign beckoned the SkullCrushers-- revenge was hungry work! The bikers necklaced the diner with their hogs and filed in, forcing out the few late-night patrons with leather gloved slaps and threatening shoves.

They sat everywhere as Chopper strode into the kitchen and grabbed up the cook's apron, lifting until the man's feet were dangling. "Rustle up some grub, boy, you wanna live to see sunrise. Breakfast for everyone. Keep it coming. We're not picky. Eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, muffins, gallons of coffee... and get Kindle a fruit cup."

The dining room roared with laughter as the ruffians pounded on Kindle's back. Brimming with spirit, Kindle's small frame nonetheless guaranteed a loss with every fight challenge, giving him the unenviable caboose position when traveling. Good thing he had a gift with explosives and fire. "Don't forget I have a gift with explosives and fire, motherfuckers," he shouted, swinging his fists to retreat the crowd of violent but playful bikers. "Let's see how much fun you are when I blow your fuckin' legs off." They roared again, bouncing him between them like a charged up pinball.

The pretty young waitress walked out of the bathroom, ignorant to the goings on of the past few minutes, and into an apparent ambush. Two bikers picked her up and laid her on the counter, began tearing at her clothes, her screams trapped in the building. "Not yet, not yet... if you kill her now, who's gonna serve us? Wait til after," Chopper roared, striding over to brush off the huge but smaller men. He scooped her up and set her down on her feet. "There you go, little lady. You'll service me first... after we eat," and gave her a wet kiss on the lips. She squirmed away, wiped her face off with disgust and ran into the kitchen. "Kindle, watch the back door for escapees. Cookie, how's that food comin'? You ain't dealin' with gentlemen here."

"Almost done, s-sir," the frightened cook called out, working furiously.

"Work slow, Chet...They're gonna kill us after we feed 'em." Suze whispered shrilly.

"Actually, little missy, we was just gonna fuck you raw and leave you for dead... you'd probably survive. Now Chet here," Chopper whispered into her ear. "Now Cookie here, his future is more uncertain. If he sucks as a cook, well, then this is his last meal. Last meal! Haw! Usually you get served a last meal, not serve it!" Chopper seemed genuinely amused with his accidental joke. "If you cook good though, well, we may bring you to the clubhouse, give you a job. Pay you in life. Every meal you make is another meal you are alive." The dining room again erupted in laughter, sounding eerily like the grumble of passing choppers.

"Serve this up, Suze... and hurry, girl," Chet said, worriedly. "Don't forget the salsa."

The waitress whispered to him, "I ain't going back out there, Chet. Them's the gang Maggie was runnin' from... the Skullcrushers."

Chopper swung around abruptly. "What? What's this? You know my good friend Maggie? Well, forget waitressing, girl! You and me, we've got some conversing to do. Doubleslash, bring this food out. Cookie, you got a back room?"

"Sorry Suze," he gulped, pointing, as the muscled and angry biker dragged her into the room by her neck.

Maggie couldn't think about anything in the Astrophysicia except the SkullCrushers and poor Mr Sperenza. Tears kept spilling. This was her fault!

Douglas Doughtry came over, put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Maggie. All of Aden is mobilized and ready for this. We take care of people here."

"But I'm not even supposed to be here!" She blurted out, sobbing. "I found Aden accidentally and wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for that driverless car coming out of the field when it did!"

"Maggie, Maggie, look at me dear," the kind older man comforted. "Do you really think that car came out in front of you accidentally? Or that you aren't somehow wanted here in Aden?"

She blinked and looked at him, startled.

He straightened. "No, we most definitely orchestrated it. We were in touch with your former bosses and knew your plans. We've been keeping an eye on you since you got on the road with those little nanocams." He put a warm hand on her shoulder and said softly, "You are Aden, Maggie... as much as any of us are. So I repeat, we take care of people."

Eyes wide as saucers, she turned to look at him, and the other Nerds who had gathered in support. Gratefully, she hugged him, hard, forcing out his breath. "Ooh, I'm sorry," she giggled. "Thank you, thank you all so much. But those bastards are dangerous. I couldn't stand to see another injury."

In her ear she heard a voice. "Maggie, it's Connie. I'm afraid I'm going to need you on the roof right away. Take the Astrophysicia elevators, quickly."

"Gotta go, guys. I'm needed on the roof." she ran to the elevators, jammed the roof button.

Connie continued. "The Skullcrushers are at Chet's diner. They have Chet and Suze. I've come up with a plan. Climb the steps and get in the SuperChopper. Hurry up, girl!"

Not Chet and Suze, too! Maggie's conscience was weighing heavily on her... all this trouble for a few grand! She should have paid the money.

She was crying again and could barely see when the elevator doors opened onto the windy roof. Wiping her eyes she was startled to be in front of an enormous helicopter, easily three times the size of any she had seen before. Hooked to its belly was the driverless car where she had first met Connie. The computer said, "The police were a dead end-- seems they're scared of the Skullcrushers, though they didn't put it exactly like that. Come on. I'll explain on the way. We're going to solve this problem, and end it tonight!"

Maggie entered the huge helicopter and was surprised to see a platoon of men in full dress armor seated left and right along the walls. One gestured to an empty seat, motioned her over, helped her into the safety harness. He was surprisingly nimble despite his gear. He lifted his face shield and smiled. "This will be so gratifying! Its been years since I took out the trash!"

"That sounds very un-Aden-like. Are you really going to kill them?" she asked, a little afraid.

The interior rumbled with men chuckling. "We don't kill, Maggie. We use nonlethal weapons, and put offenders in our Department of Corrections."

"You have a jail in Aden?" Maggie was shocked.

"It's more like a Podschool. A very, very secure Podschool." More chuckling.

"Prepare for departure!" the pilot rasped over the intercom, and they were airborne. Maggie felt pressure in her chest as the craft gained speed like a jet.

Connie said, "Now Maggie, here's what we're going to do. Your part is the most important. Listen up..."

Chopper's face was close to Suze's, very close. She could smell whiskey and rotting meat on his breath, adding nausea to her terror. "Tell me what you know about Maggie Larter, and you might live. Cross me," he bared his teeth and exhaled slowly, appearing like the devil to Suze, "and I'll take you on a ride, fifty feet behind my chopper with a rope around your waist. I promise you, you'll prefer the gang rape. Spill it!" he shouted, and punched her in the stomach. She vomited and passed out, and he dragged her into the kitchen and tied her arms and legs to a prep table with wire hangers.

Chet yelled, "Leave her alone!" and ran towards him, brandishing kitchen knives.

Chopper swung his long arm and beaned him with a flat pan, sending him across the small kitchen and crashing into the condiment shelf, where he lay bleeding and stunned on the floor. Chopper walked past the man, kicked away the knives and slapped Suze, hard. She mumbled and shook her head, tried using her tied hands, then began struggling to no avail. "What do you know about Maggie Larter?" he yelled.

"Noth-nothing, mister. She came in one night and stayed til daybreak is all. We talked about her job. She looks at the sky." Suze quivered the words, tears leaking from her bruised face, mixing with blood and vomit. "What are you gonna do with me? I got a little kid, don't hurt me!"

He looked down at her bound body-- dirty, bloody, covered with puke. "Fine mother you are-- look at you! You're a stinkin' mess!" He reached over to the dishwasher sink, grabbed the hot water spray and trained it on her. The steaming water stung her skin and she screamed. "We gotta get you all purty for the fellas... some of them are ready for you. I know I am." He pawed at her shirt, tearing the buttons and ripping it open, exposing her bra. He pulled at her skirt roughly, which refused to yield because her legs were tied with hangar wire. He grabbed one of Chet's knives and showed her. She screamed again. "No! No! No!"

He laughed and plunged it down, hard. Her screaming stopped. He pulled it out of the wood and cut her skirt off even as she squirmed. "A bikini wax... nice! You must be fuckin' somebody or you'd have a bush like an afro. Maybe even Chet here." He retied her legs up over her head and left her, looking for a stick of butter like he saw in some old movie.

It was at that very moment that the balance of power changed.

The SuperChopper didn't land. First it stopped about a half mile away from the diner and released the clamps holding the car, which dropped about a foot onto the ground, bouncing on its springs. Then it hovered a few feet to the left and a door in the floor dropped to become a set of stairs. Maggie heard in her ear, "You know the plan. Walk down the stairs, get in the car's driver's seat. I'll be controlling the car-- you don't have to do a thing."

Maggie did as instructed, and the helicopter gained elevation. At about 300 feet it moved directly over the diner and a contingent slid down ropes onto the roof-- the rest scattered outside of the diner, moving silently. Then the SuperChopper left the area completely, blades whooshing in Stealth mode.

Maggie heard, "Okay... now!" The car floored itself and picked up speed, heading towards the diner. Maggie checked her seatbelt-- she was good. The car veered in and clipped the shiny motorcycle at the end of the row,

just hard enough to send it careening into the hog next to it, which fell into the next one. In comical slow motion all forty bikes, domino-like, came tumbling to the ground. Maggie's car, propelled by the computer, sat in front, revving.

The noise attracted attention as it was supposed to, and the first few angry bikers were now running outside with Hemrage in the lead, furious and looking for blood. Right about then the driver's side window slid down and, right on cue, Maggie shouted, "Looking for me, assholes? Come and get me!" The car sped away, shooting sharp gravel painfully at the bikers, distinctive pentagram taillights receding into the night.

"Get that bitch!" Hemrage screamed and reached into the pile for his hog, which at the moment seemed to be inextricably connected by handlebar to at least two others. More bikers streamed out of the bar and separated the bikes, forcefully pulling them apart, bending chromed spokes and scratching gas tank logos before getting on the road.

When the last biker had gone, the Aden storm troopers entered the diner and found the cook and waitress, injured but alive. They untied her and tended to both their wounds. Group leader reported, "Secured hostages. Alive, lightly injured. All bikers away. Repeat, all bikers away. They are unaware of our existence, according to plan," then turned to the two and said, "Maggie Larter sends her regards. Go home and take care of your son, Suze. These bikers won't be a problem for anyone after tonight."

The rest of the plastic-protected stormtroopers congregated. Suze looked at all of them, confused and said haltingly, "Why... why did you let... them go?"

Group leader responded, "This contingent is only here to insure your safety, miss... we have a surprise waiting for them down the road."

"Th-- thanks. Uhh... the leader Chopper got away... with his pet Kindle."

"We know, miss. We've got the area cordoned off."

"What surprise do you have down the road for them?" Chet winced, holding an icepack to his sore and throbbing head.

"I promise you," said group leader, "that they won't know what happened to them."

It took a few minutes, but Hemrage had almost caught up to Maggie's car, with several other bikers ragtagging behind him. That's when the black sports car laid down rubber and pulled away like cannon fire. Not to be outdone, Hemrage opened his own throttle and just about lost his hearing in the screaming din. The bike tore after the car in hot pursuit, traveling at double the speed limit.

'Where the hell is Chopper? He should be leading this charge.' Well, Hemrage was more than ready to step in as leader, and had thought about challenging the larger man more than once, but quite frankly was afraid of him. If Chopper met his fate another way, however, Hemrage was ready to take over.

Following behind were the rest of the SkullCrushers, valiantly attempting the lead car's speed, and bringing up the rear were the last two out of the diner, the Cleaner and Doubleslash, a mile behind the car. They too kicked their bikes into overdrive, but were unprepared for what happened next. A small 'POW' was heard beneath each seat and the bikes began to lose speed, all at once seeming to head downhill though the road was level. Then the front wheel left the ground, and both bikes rose up into the air, side by side! Doubleslash looked at the Cleaners' bike and did a double-take-- it had sprouted a red hot air balloon from the seat and was now floating calmly away! He gestured frantically. The Cleaner looked overhead, then at him and made the same gesture. They were both now hundreds of feet in the air and drifting higher, but could still make out the line of bikers pursuing the blazing sports car. One by one, each bike in caboose position also lifted off the ground and into the sky!

"Check the rear view mirror, Maggie," Connie said. Her mouth dropped open at the floating red balloons each supporting a petrified biker, clinging desperately to their undulating Harleys, trying to avoid the death drop.

She shrieked gleefully. "What did you do, Connie?"

"Our advance team hit the diner before we got there and attached surprises under each bike's seat. The 'explosions' are actually helium gas, rapidly expanding."

"Umm, Connie...?"

"Yes, Maggie?"

"Aren't we approaching our turnoff?"

"Yes."

"We still have a dozen bikers following us!"

"We have another surprise for them. Hold on tight!"

Twenty-five floating bikes as one suddenly made a sharp right turn, now heading towards the mountains flanking the road. Doubleslash was angry enough to kill someone, but he was holding on to the bike with every extremity and was afraid to free his shooting arm. Just then he noticed flashes coming from the top of each balloon. The bikes changed direction and Doubleslash figured with a sick shock that they had just been apprehended by high-tech police and were now being led to custody in the oddest manner he'd ever seen.

But from his vantage point he could tell that not every bike was floating. The first dozen or so were still following the car, and in fact were gaining on it. Smugly satisfied, Doubleslash imagined the punishment Maggie would endure when they caught up to her. He was just sorry he wouldn't be there to lend a fist... or a switchblade. Doubleslash watched Maggie trying to outmaneuver the more agile motorcycles by leaving the road and heading towards a wall of mountains. The car slowed, wading through the tall grass. She's trapped now, he thought with satisfaction, but was frustrated when he floated out of sight before witnessing her capture. Ahead was a range of mountains extending for ten miles at least, and in the distance a valley beyond that.

Prob'ly where the prison is, he thought glumly, and settled in for the gentle balloon ride, having no other choice.

"Are you sure this will work, Connie? You sure you want to lead them straight into Aden?"

"Aden can handle this with ease, Maggie. But stay low-- the glass is only bulletproof for awhile."

The car screeched to a halt, the bikers only a scant quarter mile behind them, and turned towards the gate at mile marker 238-- the secret entrance to Aden. A signal was sent and the gate sunk into the ground, letting them through. Connie said, "I'm going to raise the gate very slowly, so they all have a chance to get through. I imagine they have no idea what's going to happen next."

"I don't either, Connie. I'm just gonna trust you."

"Good call. By the way, I just found out they also torched a gas 'n' go you stopped at and killed the attendant."

"Oh, no!" Maggie wailed.

"Or thought they killed him. They threw him in the dumpster before blowing the place up, which probably saved his life when a fireball engulfed the station. He'll be fine."

"Thank goodness... those bastards."

The car ripped through the tall weeds. Maggie could just make out the last few floating motorcycles head over the peaks towards Aden when the car slammed through the hidden tunnel entrance. She said, "I hope they saw that... it'll blow the whole deal if we have to 'yoo-hoo' them again."

"Yes, they saw," Connie said confidently. "They're right behind us."

And they were. Suddenly the tunnel roared with unmuffled Harley motors and the car picked up speed again, playing keepaway with the enraged bikers. The ten-mile tunnel passed quickly at 140 miles an hour and Connie said, "This part's the trick, Maggie. Watch what pneumofoil lifters can do." A whining sound filled the cabin and the car rocketted out of the tunnel entrance, racing off into thin air as if the road had not turned abruptly left and the mountain had not fallen away to a deadly cliff.

Maggie punched the air, shouting, "Yes!" after realizing Connie's plan... tricking the bikers into thinking that the road continued straight after the tunnel mouth! She didn't mind at all that they would plunge to their deaths, wondering briefly if that was an un-Aden-like thought.

"Fuck 'em," she concluded.

The car was fast, but Hemrage's bike had been outfitted with some aftermarket gear to shred his performance including a nitrous booster, and the gap between them was closing fast. The other hogs were keeping up, just barely. "Good. I get to have first licks all to myself. Maybe I can tear her apart a little before we pass her around." Hemrage thought. His huge tool was the envy of the bike club and had been used to torture women (and men) for as long as he had been a member.

'What the fuck?' A look in his mirrors confirmed that most of the bikers behind him were airborne! Big red balloons carried them off into the sky, shutting down two thirds of the Skullcrusher attack force.

He had no time to ponder the plight of his gang; the car slammed on its brakes and shot off into a paddock of tall grass. Hemrage did the same, making sure the remaining bikers followed him offroad. The car ripped through tall grass, smacking Hemrage in the face on its way back up, and again for the other bikers.

Hemrage watched the car about to attempt a suicide maneuver. That bitch was crazy-- she was heading directly towards a solid rock wall, too fast to stop! He eased back on the throttle-- no point in dying alongside her. He did a mental countdown to the inevitable explosion as spark hit ruptured gasoline tank. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1. One. One. No explosion, no nothing-- and the car was gone!

He drove up to the rock wall, close enough to see that it was a ploy-- he could push his hand right through. He waved the last dozen of his crew in, then passed through himself.

There was a smooth-walled, perfectly formed tunnel on the other side! He couldn't see the end, only the rapidly receding taillights of that goddamned sports car, so sped up to catch the gang.

Man that car was fast! He could see it pass the tunnel's mouth and continue driving in a straight line. Now he watched as the first of his men exit the tunnel... and then disappear from sight! What the fuck? More hogs leave the tunnel, then seemingly fall through the road.

It was approaching quickly so Hemrage jammed on his brakes and put the bike into a skid, and only his superior driving skills kept him upright as he passed the entrance and balanced his bike at the edge of a steep cliff! He could see now that the car was driving on air, floating only god knows how, and the bikes and bikers were nowhere to be found-- unless they were those dozen huge grey balls w-a-y down on the ground, surrounded by hundreds of white-uniformed storm troopers...

The men in Team Two below Aden's tunnel exit were waiting, and when they saw the sports car fly off the edge and hover away they knew it was time. Launchers had been prepared, a dozen of them, and were loaded with Aden's newest nonlethal weapon/restraint system. "Skeet shooting could never be so satisfying," Team Leader thought.

Then came the motorcycles. The first gracefully roared off the edge of the cliff, then awkwardly tumbled towards the valley floor 100 feet below. Death was in the cards for the biker unless Team Two could make good the plan.

"Fire." Team Leader spoke quietly into the earpieces, and with a 'WHOOM!' a dozen volleys hurtled toward the first bike. Most of them made contact, and stuck to the hog like basketball-sized wads of peanut butter. Immediately a foaming began and the 'peanut butter' rapidly became a flexible ball of semirigid foam four times the size of the motorcycle, completely engulfing machine and rider in the middle of it all. Hitting the ground, the ball plopped wobbily back up, then settled like a wad of wet paper in front of two hundred Aden security forces.

One by one each hog flew off the cliff, and one by one each landed safely, converted to a large grey ball of foam.

Back on the cliff, Hemrage watched the ruse work on the last of his men with grim efficiency, shaking his fists with rage. He heard a throat clear and was turning when a voice shouted, "You!"

Four storm troopers emerged from nearly invisible recesses in the tunnel wall and leveled what looked like T-shirt bazookas at him. One said, "Welcome to Aden."

He put his hands out in protest. They fired simultaneously, and baseball-sized globs of goo catapulted towards him. The force of contact knocked him over the cliff and he watched himself fall, horrified, until the foam obscured his vision and he was surrounded on all sides, immobile. Then came violent contact with the ground, and darkness prevailed. The attack was over.

Maggie went to the Intern Receiving Center of Aden's security arena, a tall cylindrical room accessible through a roll-up door in one wall. She sat above, staring through a row of windows encircling the room, ready to identify each Skullcrusher.

One at a time the large gray foam balls were pushed in, and the roll-up door was locked behind it. Solvent spray from the ceiling melted the gray ball away, revealing the bruised and disoriented biker, on the floor together with his machine. A hypodart shot into him from an outlet in the wall and he slumped back onto the floor, unconscious. His weaponry was removed and he was handcuffed onto a gurney.

"That's Dog. He likes cutting people. Connie, how is Aden going to handle these criminals?"

"Interns, not criminals. We do it with intensive retraining."

Knowing the computer's penchant for full explanation, Maggie asked guardedly, "...How?"

Never one to disappoint, the computer launched into her diatribe. "The highly successful Podschool program is modified to strip away an Intern's defenses and get to the root of their trauma while they are isolated in a comfortable but secure room. Their only human contact is spent with the psychiatrist Avatar on the wallscreen. Step One eliminates antisocial personality traits: Clothing is shredded, jewelry removed, they are shaved and trimmed, and their tattoos are removed and piercings are healed. They are required to follow an exercise and diet regimen. They are educated and their natural talents are developed.

In Step Two they move to quarters with trained Adeners who role play to 'work the conditioning' in sometimes grueling exercises until their personality is ingrained. Months or years from now they are integrated into Aden life as Step Three, as changed as any person you will ever see."

Dog was wheeled out, to be situated into his retraining quarters, and another gray ball was rolled in and melted, with the biker anesthetized and identified by Maggie. This continued until the last biker was secured.

"Wait... where's Chopper? Where's Kindle?"

"So far they've escaped capture, Maggie. But they don't know about Aden, and weren't with the other bikers when they left the diner. Don't worry... we're going to find them."

"Oh, I do worry, Connie. Chopper was the worst of the worst-- cunning, conniving and vicious. And certainly not to be trusted. Tell your Security he'll act all chummy, right up until the time he shivs you."

"Got it, Maggie."

But Maggie was certain the ICPU didn't get it... not by a long shot.

Epilogue

Night of the next day descended on Aden and the lights came up, bathing the city in beauty. Two lone figures sat on top of a mountain, staring down at it.

"What the hell are we gonna do? It's an entire fucking city!"

"We get them, that's what we do. They may have a lot of tricks, but we have tricks of our own. We don't need big red balloons."

"How come we didn't know about this place? It's big!"

"A better question, Kindle, is why doesn't anybody else?"

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman