The Demon Drivers BOOK III - Chapter 1: Kamikaze
The Demon Drivers BOOK III
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“No way, Jose!” said Colby, finally breaking the silence.
“That’s General Ramsey to you, son,” said a large technician sitting at the computer console.
“That’s okay, Tupper,” said General Ramsey, “Colby is entitled to his opinion.”
“That’s right,” said Colby. “And my opinion is that this is nuts.”
“I won’t deny the element of risk inherent in the mission,” said General Ramsey.
“The element of risk?” said Parker. “This whole place is crawling with risk. We’d have to be crazy to go up against Go-Boy Ultra. Even if there are five us. Like Colby said, it’s nuts.”
“But Parker,” began General Ramsey.
“This is going to be so much better than Skycade, huh, Parker?” said Bubba. Parker was virtually blinded by Bubba’s massive smile. “No orphanage. No crummy base housing. And no Maryland military school. We can stay together, just like we said. And we’ll be real pilots. Just like we always wanted.” Bubba’s energy was infectious.
“You mean you’re actually going to do it?” exclaimed Colby.
“Opportunities like this don’t come along very often, Mr. Max,” said Bubba.
“Opportunities for suicide missions?” said Colby. “Forget it.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair.
Parker considered Colby’s statement. Everyone’s eyes were on him.
“Sunny, what do you think?” asked Bubba. Parker thought he saw her blushing. He felt bad that all of a sudden she was on the spot.
“I dunno,” she said, “I get scared riding the monorail back home.”
“But Parker said you play Go-Boy with them at the arcade,” said Igby.
“I do. But this is the real deal, like you guys said before.” She turned in her chair and surveyed the nearby Battle-suit.
“Are you afraid of flying? Afraid of heights?” asked General Ramsey.
“No,” said Sunny, “not really. Whenever I get on an airplane, it occurs to me the plane could crash, but there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s no sense in worrying about something over which you have no control. Besides, I know the airplane pilots want to make it in one piece. If they survive, so do I.”
“Tough to argue with that logic,” said Igby. He smiled at Sunny. She smiled back. Parker didn’t know why, but he didn’t like it.
“Then why do you close your eyes on the monorail?” asked Bubba.
“Because,” said Sunny. She took a deep breath before she continued. “When I was a little girl, I was at a carnival one Saturday afternoon with my parents. It was upstate, not far from G.I.T., actually. My mom and I were in line for The Mouse, a small roller coaster. My mom loves roller coasters. At least, she used to, before my brother got killed. While we were standing in line, some people asked if they could go ahead of us, so they could ride with their friends. I didn’t want to let them go in front of us, but my mom said it was okay.
“Everyone was talking and laughing when the train pulled away and went up the hill. We watched as the people put their hands in the air. They were screaming and laughing as the train rushed down the hill, then back up again and into the first turn. Then, just as it reached the turn, it jumped the tracks and broke through the railing. I watched it fly off into the air. It did a nosedive, flipped over, and landed upside down in the parking lot. Everyone died. All I could think as I watched it happen was that if not for my mom, she and I would’ve been on that train. We would’ve died, too. I wish I would’ve closed my eyes when it happened. Then I wouldn’t know what it was like. Now, when I ride the monorail, I close my eyes. If something bad happens, I don’t want to watch.”
“You never told me that,” said Parker.
“Yeah, Sunny,” said Bubba, “how come you never said anything?”
“It’s not the kind of thing you go around bragging about,” she said.
“But still,” said Bubba, “if I’d known all that, I never woulda tried to make you ride up front with us.”
“I know, Bubba,” said Sunny, “I know.” She looked across the aisle at Igby. “Are you sure the Battle-suit is safe?”
“Considering what it’s designed to do, it’s as safe as I can make it,” said Igby. “I designed it so I could be the one to fly it. Go-Boy Ultra is for grown-ups but the original Battle-suit is built for kids. I’d be the dumbest genius ever if I invented something I couldn’t use myself. Naturally I wanted it to be as safe as possible. If anything goes wrong, the pilot interface will help you. If you get nervous, just relax and ask the F.M.S. for help. If you have an engine failure, there are redundant parachute systems which deploy automatically. And a standard Emergency Locator Transmitter to help us find you in case of an off-airport landing, like if you crash in the wilderness or something and have to eat tree bark and worms and weird berries and stuff.”
“Sunny,” said General Ramsey, “that carnival ride was a temporary structure. Go-Boy is a half-billion-dollar piece of hardware. Igby’s made it virtually idiot-proof.”
“Good thing,” said Bubba, looking exaggeratedly at Colby. Colby rolled his eyes.
“But,” the General continued, “if you don’t think you can do this, no one here is going to force you.”
“I didn’t say I can’t do it,” said Sunny. “I just don’t want to crash in a parking lot somewhere.”
“Maybe Igby can write that into the software protocol,” said the General, “no crashing in parking lots.”
“Consider it done,” said Igby.
“Well?” asked Bubba.
“Well what?” asked Sunny.
“Are you in? Will you come flying with Parker and me?”
Sunny smiled. “Sure, Bubba, I’ll come flying with you.”
“Excellent!” said Bubba, clapping his hands.
“I guess that just leaves you, Colby,” said Igby.
“He already said to forget it,” said Bubba. “We’ll just have to go without him.”
“Wait just a second,” said Colby. “Give me a chance to make some lemonade of my own out of these lemons the General dropped in my lap. General, are we going to be paid for our services?”
“You mean the warm fuzzy feeling of helping your country isn’t enough?” asked General Ramsey.
“There’s nothing warm and fuzzy about getting my butt shot off by Dr. Red. I’ve done autograph signings in hospitals for disabled veterans. I’ve seen the reality of combat: young, strong, healthy men and women with no legs or missing half their face. I’ve seen the sacrifice made in the name of national duty.”
Parker couldn’t help but envision his dad, running down a dusty street somewhere, being blown up by a buried land mine.
“I’m not saying duty isn’t important, because it is,” said Colby. “I’m just saying if I’m going to jump on this lunatic bandwagon, I expect to be paid for the ride.”
“You’re thirteen years old,” said Bubba, “why do you need money?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I am a celebrity,” Colby replied. “I’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard of living. Plus I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Acting may not be as important as defending the country, but it has its merit. Anyone who’s ever done it knows acting is a lot of work. If I’m going to give all that up to participate in some hair-brained secret mission, I expect compensation. A lot of it.” Colby turned from Bubba to General Ramsey. “Let’s be honest. You’re the ones who let Go-Boy Ultra slip through your fingers and now you need me – us – to clean up your mess for you. Don’t pretend that doesn’t put us in the driver’s seat, in a position to be demanding.” He looked around at the other kids. “Chances are good that at least some of us won’t survive this ‘mission’ as you call it, not if Go-Boy Ultra is as good as you say. If I’m going out on a suicide mission, then at least have the common courtesy to tell me that’s what it is. If we’re kamikaze, honor us as such.”
“Comma-what?” said Bubba.
“Kamikaze, Mr. Black,” said the General.
“What’re they?” asked Parker. He didn’t like the notion of being described by a word he didn’t understand.
“Pilots,” said Sunny. “In World War II, after America was attacked by the Empire of Japan, and both sides were fighting in the Pacific, Japanese pilots flew their fighter planes directly into U.S. warships. They turned themselves into human missiles. They took off from Japan knowing what they were going to do. Knowing they wouldn’t be coming home. They were honored by their commanders, by their families, by the people of Japan. Most of them were young, not even twenty years old. They were called kamikaze. In Japanese it means divine wind.”
“That’s so fascinating and really sad,” said Colby, “but they still lost the war and the pilots were still dead.”
For all the ceremony and honor accorded to young men volunteering to die for their country, Colby was right: dead is dead. Things had just gotten a lot more serious. Even Igby didn’t look so jovial.
“I think Colby has a point,” said Sunny. “If something . . . bad . . . should happen, then at least our families will have something to show for it.”
“Something besides an American flag folded into a triangle,” added Colby. General Ramsey stiffened.
“Very well,” said the General. “I’ll see to it that accounts are set up for you and your families.”
“Before we leave,” said Colby.
“Of course,” said the General.
“Does that mean you’re in?” asked Igby.
Colby looked to General Ramsey. “General? Do we have a deal?”
“As you wish,” said General Ramsey.
“ ‘Princess . . . Butter-cup!’ ” said Colby. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. And I can get that in writing?” asked Colby.
“By noon tomorrow,” said the General.
“ ‘Mr. Silver, you just bought yourself a champion.’ I’m in,” said Colby. There was a noticeable, collective sigh in the room.
“Now,” continued the General, “I believe there is just one more matter to attend to. Unless I am mistaken, each one of you has agreed to volunteer for this mission. Everyone, that is, except Parker.”
Everyone looked at Parker. He felt their eyes drilling into him.
“Park?” said Bubba quietly, clearly confused.
Parker didn’t have the heart to meet the eyes of his friend.
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