jchrisobrien (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jchrisobrien) wrote2003-06-22 01:18 am
jchrisobrien) wrote2003-06-22 01:18 am
Futureperfect: Elektronaut
Malcolm stood behind the pilot of the skimmer, his helmet tucked under his arm. Two monitors showed different views of the back of the hovercraft they were parked on. The images were filtered for night vision, but didn’t show anything unusual. Long rows of bulk heads stretching the length of the ship, the occasional exhaust port, the flashing lights to warn other crafts of its presence. The dorsal fins cut an imposing silhouette as the camera tracked by them. Malcolm noticed an irregularity at the base of one of the fins. He tapped the pilot on the shoulder and pointed to it, asking for magnification. The pilots’ fingers danced over the keyboard, and the image sprung into focus. A small shuttlecraft nestled against the fin. It was smaller than the skimmer but of similar design, triangular with swept back crescent wings. As information on the made and model of the shuttle scrolled onscreen, the shuttle slipped backwards, sliding off the back of the hovercraft and faded from view.
Malcolm pulled up a seat in the cockpit as the pilot prepped the skimmer for take off. Metal clamps retracted from the hull, the engines of the skimmer flared to life, and the sleek black ship peeled away and up into the night. They banked around the rear fins and
The shuttle craft was small, and no match for the speed of a police skimmer. It was highly maneuverable though, and the pilot was apparently highly skilled. It flitted erratically in front of the shuttle, the pilot trying and failing to lock it in their sights. Malcolm didn’t want to destroy the craft though. There were over the heart of the city, and the debris would kill dozens of people below. There were far easier ways to bring the ship down. Malcolm began typing in override codes to broadcast to the shuttle. All vehicles were connected to a wireless network that broadcast from towers scattered through the city. It would be easy to access the ships computer and override the flight commands, to bring it down safely on a rooftop and seal the ship until the skimmer arrived. He tried to beam the first string of codes to the fleeing shuttle. No response, the code was rejected. Malcolm couldn’t find a signal to lock onto. The ship seemed to be flying independent of the network, which made it highly dangerous. If it couldn’t be seen, then other craft couldn’t see it either.
Accessing the ship’s computer enough to block over ride signals or take it off the network was not possible for most citizens. Only someone with a scientific or police background could do so. Were the hijackers members of the police? The though made him want to vomit. Why would someone who helped create and protect this perfect future now endanger it?
Malcolm’s attention turned back to the view screen. They were now entering the upper reaches of the city, and the sky was getting very crowded. The shuttle flew by the antenna from a broadcast tower, one of the highest structures in the city. The skimmer flew wide around them, continuing in its pursuit. The shuttle weaved by the tallest skyscrapers, massive structures honeycombed with reflective glass. They darted under vast expanses of solar panels, great wind turbines, and fat Tesla coils spitting electricity into the air. The pilot scrambled to narrowly avoid a radar dish, which the shuttle avoided with ease. It banked and twisted down, diving lower into the crowded airways of the city.
Malcolm tried again to search for the ship. They were too close to the ground and building for radar to work, and there was still no computer lock. He told the pilot to radio for backup, alerting any police in the area of an unregistered shuttle operating off the broadcast net. He raced out of the cockpit, putting his helmet on and heading to the skimmer’s drop room. He grabbed a metal cylinder and slung it over his shoulder, and added a few small grenades to his belt. Each grenade could generate a small electro-magnetic pulse, enough to black out a small building, or if worse came to worse, a shuttle.
The other officer’s were prepping a gravity sled for him. The sled would easily be able to maneuver in the city, and should still be powerful enough to catch the shuttle. Malcolm gunned the engines and gave a thumb’s up. The drop doors opened again, he twisted the accelerator and the sled raced from under the skimmer and dove into city traffic.
The night sky was orange, green, and yellow at this point in the city, illuminated by a thousand neon suns. Hover cars and shuttles crowded the airways between the buildings, with monorails snaking along below them in a vast web as far as the eye could see. Towers of glass and steel stretched nobly to the heavens, chrome gleamed and marble shimmered like water. Though there were many cars in the air, collisions were unheard of due to the broadcast channels. The cars and shuttles were restricted to certain speeds, and automatically veered away from each other when the reached a certain distance. The shuttle was under no such protection, and Malcolm followed the trail of near collision lights through the traffic.
Malcolm’s ire at the recklessness of the shuttle was beginning to be replaced by respect. There were a few near misses, but the pilot hadn’t crashed into anything yet. It took a terrific amount of skill, to say nothing of nerves, to navigate the skies of the city and maintain that speed. It just made it all the more likely that the pilot was a renegade scientist. He could still barely comprehend it.
The shuttle dipped lower again, flying close to ground level, where airships were strictly forbidden. They were unable to fly that low due to the broadcast overrides, but that meant nothing to the shuttle. It screamed over long streets lined with trees, over grassy parts and glass gardens, where the statues of famous scientists, politicians, and artist looked forever skyward into the future. The parks were dotted with people, but nowhere near as crowded as it would be during the day. Malcolm gave thanks for that. He clenched his knees tighter and coaxed more speed from the sled. The engines whined in protest but obeyed, the needles rising from green to amber, and slowly into the red.
The shuttle turned to fly down the mall, a long stretch of grass with a reflecting pool running the length of it. There were no buildings, and no traffic. This would be the best chance he had. He swung the cylinder around from his shoulder and dropped a grenade into the opening at one end. He lifted it to his shoulder, triggering a small laser site on the launcher. He listened intently until her heard the high pitched beep that told him he was locked in, and pulled the trigger.
The grenade arched towards the shuttle, impacting on one of the rear sweeping wings. Malcolm immediately decelerated, his finger sliding over the detonation button. Five seconds later, he trigged the grenade. There was no explosion or flash of light, the engines of the shuttle just fluttered, then died. The shuttle began to fall, nose dipping towards the ground. The pilot would be unable to decelerate the craft, and steering was almost impossible. It crashed through several trees before impacting on the ground, digging a dark brow scar in the lush grass. Malcolm eased the gravity sled down next to the crumpled ruins of the shuttle. The front half was in the reflecting pool; behind it a glittering trail of metal, glass and plastic confetti.
Malcolm swung his leg over the sled and walked towards the wreckage. The top of the shuttle had peeled off in the crash, the long nose and engine compartments crumpled back in on it. Malcolm looked into the exposed cockpit, saw twisted metal and frayed wires, and a body clad in black from head to foot sprawled over the control panel. He checked for a pulse, and found nothing. They would not be getting any answers after all. His helmet’s radio chirped at him; police and ambulance shuttles were on the way. Perhaps the figure could be revived. He rolled the figure over, noticing that it was female for the first time. He pulled the mask that she was wearing off.
He stared for several impossibly long seconds into his dead wife’s eyes
Malcolm pulled up a seat in the cockpit as the pilot prepped the skimmer for take off. Metal clamps retracted from the hull, the engines of the skimmer flared to life, and the sleek black ship peeled away and up into the night. They banked around the rear fins and
The shuttle craft was small, and no match for the speed of a police skimmer. It was highly maneuverable though, and the pilot was apparently highly skilled. It flitted erratically in front of the shuttle, the pilot trying and failing to lock it in their sights. Malcolm didn’t want to destroy the craft though. There were over the heart of the city, and the debris would kill dozens of people below. There were far easier ways to bring the ship down. Malcolm began typing in override codes to broadcast to the shuttle. All vehicles were connected to a wireless network that broadcast from towers scattered through the city. It would be easy to access the ships computer and override the flight commands, to bring it down safely on a rooftop and seal the ship until the skimmer arrived. He tried to beam the first string of codes to the fleeing shuttle. No response, the code was rejected. Malcolm couldn’t find a signal to lock onto. The ship seemed to be flying independent of the network, which made it highly dangerous. If it couldn’t be seen, then other craft couldn’t see it either.
Accessing the ship’s computer enough to block over ride signals or take it off the network was not possible for most citizens. Only someone with a scientific or police background could do so. Were the hijackers members of the police? The though made him want to vomit. Why would someone who helped create and protect this perfect future now endanger it?
Malcolm’s attention turned back to the view screen. They were now entering the upper reaches of the city, and the sky was getting very crowded. The shuttle flew by the antenna from a broadcast tower, one of the highest structures in the city. The skimmer flew wide around them, continuing in its pursuit. The shuttle weaved by the tallest skyscrapers, massive structures honeycombed with reflective glass. They darted under vast expanses of solar panels, great wind turbines, and fat Tesla coils spitting electricity into the air. The pilot scrambled to narrowly avoid a radar dish, which the shuttle avoided with ease. It banked and twisted down, diving lower into the crowded airways of the city.
Malcolm tried again to search for the ship. They were too close to the ground and building for radar to work, and there was still no computer lock. He told the pilot to radio for backup, alerting any police in the area of an unregistered shuttle operating off the broadcast net. He raced out of the cockpit, putting his helmet on and heading to the skimmer’s drop room. He grabbed a metal cylinder and slung it over his shoulder, and added a few small grenades to his belt. Each grenade could generate a small electro-magnetic pulse, enough to black out a small building, or if worse came to worse, a shuttle.
The other officer’s were prepping a gravity sled for him. The sled would easily be able to maneuver in the city, and should still be powerful enough to catch the shuttle. Malcolm gunned the engines and gave a thumb’s up. The drop doors opened again, he twisted the accelerator and the sled raced from under the skimmer and dove into city traffic.
The night sky was orange, green, and yellow at this point in the city, illuminated by a thousand neon suns. Hover cars and shuttles crowded the airways between the buildings, with monorails snaking along below them in a vast web as far as the eye could see. Towers of glass and steel stretched nobly to the heavens, chrome gleamed and marble shimmered like water. Though there were many cars in the air, collisions were unheard of due to the broadcast channels. The cars and shuttles were restricted to certain speeds, and automatically veered away from each other when the reached a certain distance. The shuttle was under no such protection, and Malcolm followed the trail of near collision lights through the traffic.
Malcolm’s ire at the recklessness of the shuttle was beginning to be replaced by respect. There were a few near misses, but the pilot hadn’t crashed into anything yet. It took a terrific amount of skill, to say nothing of nerves, to navigate the skies of the city and maintain that speed. It just made it all the more likely that the pilot was a renegade scientist. He could still barely comprehend it.
The shuttle dipped lower again, flying close to ground level, where airships were strictly forbidden. They were unable to fly that low due to the broadcast overrides, but that meant nothing to the shuttle. It screamed over long streets lined with trees, over grassy parts and glass gardens, where the statues of famous scientists, politicians, and artist looked forever skyward into the future. The parks were dotted with people, but nowhere near as crowded as it would be during the day. Malcolm gave thanks for that. He clenched his knees tighter and coaxed more speed from the sled. The engines whined in protest but obeyed, the needles rising from green to amber, and slowly into the red.
The shuttle turned to fly down the mall, a long stretch of grass with a reflecting pool running the length of it. There were no buildings, and no traffic. This would be the best chance he had. He swung the cylinder around from his shoulder and dropped a grenade into the opening at one end. He lifted it to his shoulder, triggering a small laser site on the launcher. He listened intently until her heard the high pitched beep that told him he was locked in, and pulled the trigger.
The grenade arched towards the shuttle, impacting on one of the rear sweeping wings. Malcolm immediately decelerated, his finger sliding over the detonation button. Five seconds later, he trigged the grenade. There was no explosion or flash of light, the engines of the shuttle just fluttered, then died. The shuttle began to fall, nose dipping towards the ground. The pilot would be unable to decelerate the craft, and steering was almost impossible. It crashed through several trees before impacting on the ground, digging a dark brow scar in the lush grass. Malcolm eased the gravity sled down next to the crumpled ruins of the shuttle. The front half was in the reflecting pool; behind it a glittering trail of metal, glass and plastic confetti.
Malcolm swung his leg over the sled and walked towards the wreckage. The top of the shuttle had peeled off in the crash, the long nose and engine compartments crumpled back in on it. Malcolm looked into the exposed cockpit, saw twisted metal and frayed wires, and a body clad in black from head to foot sprawled over the control panel. He checked for a pulse, and found nothing. They would not be getting any answers after all. His helmet’s radio chirped at him; police and ambulance shuttles were on the way. Perhaps the figure could be revived. He rolled the figure over, noticing that it was female for the first time. He pulled the mask that she was wearing off.
He stared for several impossibly long seconds into his dead wife’s eyes