Revolution

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ercises he’d gone through early in the Flighthawk program, when the developers were trying to get a handle on how difficult it would be for someone in a plane maneuvering at high speed to control the Flighthawks. He didn’t feel exactly weightless, but the exoskeleton relieved what would have felt like a great deal of pressure on his shoulder muscles. He thought about this as he and Da

Confident that he could handle an emergency, he started putting the MESSKIT through its paces, accelerating across the marked course, then gliding into a circular holding pattern.

“You’re getting pretty good with this,” said Da

“Ha ha.”

“How are your arms?”

“They don’t feel bad at all.”

“The thing to worry about are cramps,” said Da

Da

Zen got plenty of upper body exercise, and felt confident that whatever strain the MESSKIT was putting on his shoulders was minimal. His real concern was what he would do if he had a bad itch.

“All right, let’s do a few sprints, then see how you are at landing,” said Da

“Last one to the flag is a rotten egg,” said Zen.

He leaned forward and twisted his throttle. The wind rushed passed his helmet—but so did Da

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

loop. He backed off, slowing immediately. He looked up, and saw that Da

But Da

“Captain, we have an automated alarm going off on Access Road 2,” said one of the security lieutenants, breaking into the frequency. “I have an aerial en route and hope to have a visual in thirty seconds. Maybe a car accident.”

An “aerial” was a small UAV, or unma

“Go ahead and scramble the response team,” said Da

“They’re out at Test Area 12, covering a broken leg.”

“Call Team 2,” said Da

“They’re standing by for the fighter exercises. They’re already covering three ranges.”

Because of the distances involved, not to mention the danger inherent in the base’s experiments, Dreamland procedures called for a pararescue team to stand by near the range whenever live exercises were being held. The recent deployment and a ramp-up in Dreamland’s research activities had stretched the available perso

“Stand by,” said Da

“Problem?” asked Zen, who’d heard the conversation over the radio.

“Maybe a car accident out on Road 2.”

“Why don’t we go check it out?” said Zen.

“Just what I was thinking. But—”

Zen knew what that but meant. He didn’t bother to answer, pushing his head forward and sliding the power reading to 15.

“Major, I really believe you should wait until you’re fully checked out,” said A

“Thank you,” Zen replied, as if she’d paid him a compliment.

There were four access roads to Dreamland, but only Road 1, which ran from Nellis Air Base, was paved. The others were REVOLUTION

67

hard-packed dirt, or as his wife Brea

Road 2 came off the southeastern end of the base perimeter and ran due south for a mile and half before jogging lazily east. Zen started in that direction, then increased his speed as Da

“Security Command, this is Freah. I’m on my way via Exo3.

Major Stockard is with me. Alert the perimeter system—I don’t feel like being shot down.”

Friend or foe identifiers in the gear would prevent the Razor antiair lasers from firing on them, but any uncleared flight over the perimeter fence would elicit an armed response from the robot Ospreys, which would force them to land or simply shoot them down.

The surveillance UAV zipped ahead from the west, dropping into a hover over the road three miles from the perimeter fence. The small aircraft—its rotors would have tucked neatly under the deck of a household lawn mower—was flying about twenty feet below Zen. It looked like a hive supported by a swarm of bees.

“Car is upside down,” reported the security supervisor.

“Roger that, I see it on my screen,” said Da

“McDaniels and Percival are en route from the guard station. They’re ten minutes away.”

“Roger that.”

A FORD EXPLORER LAY ON ITS ROOF ABOUT THIRTY YARDS

from the side of the road.

“Zen, check your fuel,” said Da

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DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“It says ten minutes, plus reserve.”

“When you hit reserve, go back.”

Of course Da

he replied. “I’m going to check the area and see if anyone was thrown out.”

“Roger that. Good idea.”

DANNY WAITED FOR THE UAV TO BACK OFF BEFORE TUCKing his arms into a U-shape and sliding his power down. He settled onto the dusty road about fifteen feet from the spot where the Explorer had gone off. The truck had traveled a good distance before stopping, and the marks in the desert made it look as if it had flipped at least twice.

Dropping to his knees, Da

The front of the SUV was crushed. He could smell gasoline as he got down on his hands and knees to peer inside.

The driver was suspended in her seat, wedged against the roof and wheel, a deflated air bag wrapped against her face and torso. He couldn’t tell if she was alive.

The driver’s side window had been smashed, but the metal was so mangled it was impossible to reach her. He went around to the other side. There was a bit more room there, but it was still a very tight squeeze just to get his hand in.

Da

Alive!

He grabbed his helmet.

“Security Command, this is Da

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“Roger that, Captain.”

“Give them a sitrep. Tell them to be ready with the Jaws of Life.”

“Yeah, roger, roger, Cap. I’m on it.”

The Jaws of Life was a special tool that worked like a hydraulic pry bar; in this case, it would be used to pull the squashed door away from the cab so the victim could be extricated. Da