Justin Stone and the Iris of the Madonna

[joegoda]

Jonathan hopped into the front seat of the rail runner, fastened the safety belt around his middle and over his shoulder, and waited as Justin climbed in behind him. He slid the canopy backward just a bit, so that it would deflect the majority of the wind that was about to be stirred up and move it away from him and his brother.

Reaching down to the small brass control panel, he depressed a green button that was marked GO until it was flush with the control panel cover. This caused a red button, marked STOP to rise up. There was a tiny popping sound, and Jonathan thumbed open a tiny access panel, about the size of a postage stamp. Inside, he saw an electric spark leaped across a tiny aperture. This ignited a small flame to appear, which in turn heated a round copper plate, about five inches in diameter.

A temperature gage on the control panel rose steadily from zero. "Just a few seconds, Justin," he said.

"Some day," was Justin's reply, "you will figure out a way to have this beast start up immediately. You never know when we might have to leap into action, rather than slowly crawl."

"You're never happy, you know that?" The temperature gauge read 120. Jonathan flicked a small switch and a gentle vibration rose through the machine. There was a red topped lever on the right hand side of the panel. The slot the lever ran in was marked 'Slow', 'Faster', and 'Very Fast indeed!' Jonathan pulled the lever down to it's first notch.

The propellers on either side of them started to rotate, slowly at first and then faster and faster. The leaves on the track directly below the ducts whisked away into the night.

Jonathan adjusted the mirror on the right hand side of the canopy, so he could see behind the rail runner as it slid out of the way station. He saw, gathering on the platform behind them, three lumpy shadows in the night. What little light there was on the platform gave the shadows form. As expected, the three that had been outside the pawn shop had followed them.

"Time to go." He grasped another lever, one that sat on the left hand of the panel. It had a green top and it sat in the middle of its slot. The middle was marked 'NO GO'. Above was marked "FORWARD" and below the lever was marked "REVERSE". Jonathan slowly moved the lever upward, and the ducted propellers tilted forward. "I hope you put your belt on!" His voice was lost to the noise of the fans.

The runner started to move slowly forward as the fans shoved hard against the air, pushing all the leaves and trash that was behind the runner back towards the platform in great spiraling whirls. The clamps holding the runner on to the rail scraped and screamed with resistance until Jonathan turned a small dial on the control panel. Then, with the aid of an electromagnetic generator, the rail runner lifted slightly from the rail and shot forward at great speed.

The canopy protected the riders from the wind that was generated by the runner's forward movement, but it didn't do much against the sound of the ducted fans. Communication was impossible as the vehicle sped down the tracks.

The track curved gently to the left as the runner rocketed down the rail. Jonathan looked into the mirror and saw a dark shape, high in the night sky. It might have been a rain cloud and if the night had, indeed been overcast, he might have mistaken it for one. Instead, the few clouds that hung in the sky were not enough to keep the moonlight and starlight hidden, and he could see that the shape was cylindrical and seemed to be following them.

Jonathan looked back at Justin, trying to attract his attention. Justin's head was bowed, his eyes were tightly closed and his mouth was set in a grim straight line. Justin had a tight grip on the arm rests of his seat and his knuckles were white.

Jonathan reached back and gently touched his brother's left hand. Justin jerked his hand away and opened one eye to glare at Jonathan. Jonathan pointed, jerkily, at the apparition behind them.

Justin opened both eyes and turned his head, his mouth still set tightly. His eyes opened wide and he turned his head back to meet Jonathan's gaze. Justin mouthed the question, "How far".

Jonathan looked up the track, searching for a sign that mentioned the next depot or station. He didn't wait long, and a small green sign that read "Neely Street - 2 miles" zipped past them. He held up two fingers and Justin nodded acknowledgement, closed his eyes and ducked his head down again.

Jonathan his eyes moving between the mirror and the track up ahead. The dirigible above them was gaining on them, incredibly. The track was straight and moving downhill. The whistle of the wind and the sound of the fans was deafening. The runner on the downhill slope picked up a bit of speed and put a bit more distance between the men and the dark shape following them.

That was not to last, however, because at the bottom of every hill, there is an incline and that slowed the runner enough that the dirigible overtook them and passed them. Jonathan once again touched his brother's hand and this time pointed straight up. Justin took notice of the shape overhead and nodded. The runner had slowed down enough that Jonathan heard Justin's shouted warning, "Be careful! Watch for anything!"

Jonathan nodded and shouted back, "I will!" He knew as he turned his head back to watch the dirigible and the tracks that Justin had once again closed his eyes in fear and pain.

For all of Justin's bravery and despite all of his achievements, he had one fear, and that was the fear of not being in control. With Jonathan in the driver's seat, the only thing that Justin could do was hang on and be terrified.

Jonathan watched the dirigible slip above them and in front of them. It seemed to hang there like some monumental bloated vulture, waiting for something to happen. A long stretch of straight track appeared in front of the runner and the two vehicles, the one in the air and the one on the track paced each other.

Another green sign appeared. "Neely Street - 1 mile." It faded quickly into the background.

Jonathan watched as the dirigible veered off to one side and saw small something drop from it. The object fell onto the tracks and the world became bright very quickly.

Once the haze that was the world had faded a bit, Jonathan saw that the track, not more than five hundred yards away had disappeared. Where track and rail had once been was now a gaping twenty foot wound in their path, the track sheared away as cleanly as if done with an acetylene welding torch.

"A magnesium bomb!" Jonathan yelled, back at Justin, not knowing if his brother had heard or not. He started to move his hand to the directional lever to throw the runner into reverse, but his hand was stopped by another, grabbing his arm.

"No!" Jonathan turned to look at Justin, wide eyed, pale, and shaking his head. The word came faintly, and Jonathan raised his hand to his ear, indicating for Justin to repeat himself.

"Faster!" Justin mouthed. "Fly!" Justin screamed, first pointing to the ducts and then pointing up. "NO GO!"

At first puzzled, and then suddenly nodding in understanding, Jonathan brutally shoved the lever all the way forward and the runner leapt with even more speed. The gap in the rails loomed closer and closer. The runner screamed as its rail clamps tried to keep the vehicle connected to the earth. The little machine bucked underneath the two men and shuddered with a horrible vibration as it hit the first part of the damaged rail.

"NO GO!" Justin's voice could barely be heard. "Now! NO GO!"

The track disappeared from below them, and the runner shot out into the empty air, preparing to fall. Jonathan grabbed the directional lever and pulled it back sharply. The runner shuddered and bucked as the ducted fans rotated on their pivots to point down at the ground, far below them.

Jonathan had only a few moments to look below, at the twisted, melted metal and burned wood that was the remains of the ruined monorail trestle. The forward momentum of the runner slipped them across the empty space and slid onto the other side of the trestle. The clamps underneath broke away on the metal cross ties that bound the sides of the trestle together. Sparks flew as the undercarriage slid, screaming along the track. No longer tied to the rail, it was an arrow, flying without direction. The runner hit one of the crossties and the rear of the runner lifted, threatening to overturn. The canopy ripped off with the sound of tearing metal and shattering glass.

Jonathan was furiously busy, moving the ducted fans to point forward, trying to slow their momentum, and at the same time keeping them directed downward. The force of air from the ducts was the only thing that was keeping the runner from flying off the track and out into the air. He would nudge the directional lever backward, to move the flow of air forward, pushing against their direction, and when the runner would shudder and try to catch on a crosstie, he would move it back toward center, so that the runner would lift up just a bit.

Eventually, he reached an equilibrium, where the ducts were pointed more down than forward, but forward enough to slow them. This position allowed the front of the runner to lift up just enough that it slid over the crossties, rather than catch on them.

Screeching and still throwing sparks, the runner slowed, slowed and stopped, smoking on the tracks. Unbuckling his belt and shoving the broken canopy forward, Jonathan climbed out of his seat to examine Justin. His hands were bloodless and there were indentations under his fingers from where he had gripped the armrests. Justin's eyes were closed and there was a trickle of blood leaking from where he had bitten his bottom lip, but he was breathing. A bruise was rising above his right eye, where he had hit his head against the driver's seat.

"Justin!" Jonathan gently patted his brother's face. "Justin!"

Justin's eyes fluttered open, and he weakly smiled. "That's what I have you for," he muttered.

"Are you all right?" Jonathan checked to see if there were any broken bones. He unbuckled Justin's belt and helped his brother climb out of his seat.

Justin stumbled from the wreckage and leaned against it. "Just a moment to catch my breath, old chum." He looked back at the gaping hole in the track, as he pulled a kerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from his mouth. "What did it, do you think?"

"I think it was a magnesium bomb," Jonathan said. "Judging from the way the rail evaporated, and how bright it was. Mixed with iron oxide and hydrochloric acid it can be a pretty nasty ray of sunshine." He turned and looked back at the ruined trestle. "Probably had an electric igniter, like what we use in the runner here." He patted the wrecked vehicle fondly. "I'm sorry, old paint," he said. "Looks like I'm gonna have to shoot ya."

"Where's the dirigible?" Justin looked up. There was no sign of the floating menace. "Where did it go?"

"I don't know, Justin," Jonathan said, "I was too busy trying to keep us alive."

Justin straightened, and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "And damned glad I am that you did! More than likely the dastards flew off, certain of our destruction." He winked at Jonathan. "Well, we fooled them, didn't we?"

He tugged at his sleeves and pulled on his lapels. "Where's my hat?" He looked inside the tiny passenger compartment of the runner. He retrieved his walking stick, but his hat was nowhere to be found. "Probably disappeared with the rest of the track. Pity."

He looked toward the Neely Street station. Sirens were starting to sound, where police cars were converging on the street below. "Come along, Jonathan. The police will want to know our version of what happened here."

Justin started walking toward the station, which was about two thousand yards a way. Its canopy and brightly lit interior could be seen, shining in the darkness. "It's too bad you couldn't keep the runner moving just a bit further. It would have saved us having to walk."

"Our version?" Ignoring Justin's last remark, Jonathan reached into the cab of the damaged runner and pushed the red Stop button. He flipped the postage stamp access and made sure the flame had gone out. "Our version?" He turned from the runner and giving one more tender pat, he ran to catch up with Justin, already well on his way. "What do you mean 'our version'?"

"We can't very well say we were bombed by a dirigible, can we," Justin asked. "That would start all sorts of questions to be asked and panic to ensue among the general populace. That would never do, Jon." He reached the station and stood on the platform, looking up at the sky. "That would never do," he repeated quietly, almost to himself.

Jonathan climbed from the track to the station. "Well... what are we going to say, then?"

He walked over to the little kiosk where the station master would be during the daytime, and unlocked the small entrance door. Letting himself in, he went over to a small box with a dial and a microphone. He flipped a switch on the box and the dial lit up. A crackle of static came from a hidden speaker over his head.

Justin walked over to the outside the kiosk and casually leaned against it. Raising a perfect eyebrow that was just a tiny bit disheveled, he said, "Lighting."

Jonathan cast a curious eye at his brother. "Lightning. You want to say that lightning cause this?" The light from the dial grew a bit brighter and the crackle from the speaker faded to a hum.

"Absolutely!" Justin smiled. "A lightning bolt crashed down from the clear blue sky and blasted the track just as we were traveling on it, making our monthly inspection!" He looked up at the barely clouded sky. "An absolute freak occurrence, and our survival merely shows how prepared we are for any accident, and any situation!"

Jonathan picked up the slim microphone and held it, looking at his brother, open mouthed. "Hey, you don't have to sell it to me, Justin. It's the cops you gotta sell it to." He turned the dial just a bit and pressed the button on the microphone. "Charlie? You there?" Silence. He pulled the microphone close to his mouth and yelled, "Charlie! Answer the radio, dammit!"

A sleepy voice crackled over the speaker. "Yeah? Zat you, boss?"

"No, it's Santa Claus, you slackamore. What are you doing sleeping on the job?"

"I wasn't sleeping." A large yawn said otherwise. "I was resting my eyeballs."

"Okay, you were resting your eyeballs." Jonathan rolled his own eyes. "Look, Charlie, we have a... situation down near Neely Street station. Grab your boys and get over here."

"A what?" Charlie yawned out of the speaker. "A situation? What sort of situation?"

"The tracks been blasted away by a...," Jonathan looked over at Justin, who was looking up at the sky. "By a lightning bolt."

"A lightning bolt? It ain't even raining!"

"You heard what I said," Jonathan yelled into the microphone. "It was a lightning bolt. That's the story and I'm sticking to it. Got me?"

"Sure boss, sure." Charlie sounded uncertain. "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough that you and your gang are going to be pretty damn busy getting it repaired in time for the four o'clock train. There's a hole about twenty feet blasted away at the top of the trestle. Get a move on!"

"Twenty feet?" Charlie paused. "Damn! Must have been one big lightning bolt! Anyone hurt?"

"No," Jonathan said. "Justin and I were out... inspecting... when we found it." He paused. "Oh, and a rail runner got wrecked, so you might want to see what you can do with it, too."

"Damn boss... What were you two doing out at this time of night? And since when do you inspect the rail?"

"No gripes, Charlie, and no questions, okay?" Jonathan said. "Its easy work and we pay you pretty good."

"I know, I know," Charlie grumbled. "But... damn! It's four hours until the first train."

"Shake a leg, buddy," Jonathan said before turning the radio off. "The tracks not fixing itself." He flipped the switch and the radio went dead.

"Okay. Charlie's on his way, and the lightning story is officially out there." He turned to Justin. "What now?"

"Now, Jonathan, we go talk to the policemen waiting at the bottom of the stairs." He pulled his gaze from the sky. "Maybe they'll give us a lift home."