The Most Dangerous Dame

“Hello Mick.” I couldn’t tell if the voice belonged to a male or female. It was filtered through some type of scrambler that disguised its true tone and cadence. “You like to be called ‘Mick’ now, don’t you?”

“Who the hell are you? How’d you get this number?”

The laughter came across as crackly static. “Anything coming back to you? Any sudden flashes of clarity from the past?”

I jabbed a finger at the screen. “Listen, pal. You’re boring me with the cloak and shadow shtick. Howzabout we sit down somewhere and talk things over a drink? Better than ominous calls and veiled intentions.”

The figure tilted its head. “But it wouldn’t be as much fun, would it? I want to know who you really are, Mick. I want to know if any of the real you is inside of that ridiculous façade Dr. Faraday created.”

I felt my blood turn cold. “How do you know that name?”

“Let’s play a little game, Mick. Remember the trials you went through before you became an agent? Think you can shake the rust off and think on your feet? Let’s see if you still have what it takes.”

The screen went dark. I scratched my head, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in my stomach. “Benny, I think we need to—”

“Mick, we got trouble.” Benny nearly choked on the words as he pointed to the side window.

I tilted my Bogart back, allowing a clear view of the airbus that hurtled across the opposite airlanes straight toward us. The long, massive metallic beast was usually packed with passengers and floated slowly from one stop to the next. This one appeared to pick up speed with every passing second. The headlights were twin moons, blinding me to anything except the approaching collision.

“What the ever-lovin’ hell?”

Floaters are programmed with evasive maneuvers in emergency situations, which was the only reason we didn’t get plastered like bugs across the airbus’ windshield. The side thruster pulsed, slamming me against the interior panel. The airbus still clipped us on the backside with a crunching sound. We span toward blurry lights and buildings while fragments of the fender whirred around us. I tried not to think about the swirling alcoholic contents in my stomach because things were drastic enough without throwing airsickness into the equation.

“Dive, kid. Get this crate on the ground!”

Benny’s eyes rolled in his head as the floater revolved in a tailspin that threatened to send us into the nearest building or turn us into street pizza if we couldn’t get it under control.

“I can’t… it’s in autodrive.” I couldn’t see clearly, but it looked like tears streamed down his face. He looked outside the window and gave a very unmanly scream. “We’re gonna die. Oh God… ”

I leaned over and actuated the steering controls so they slid over to the passenger side. “If all you’re gonna do is sit there and cry, you can get out right now, boy. Saves me the trouble of shooting you when we land.” I clicked over to manual operation. The floater’s holographic aide flickered on, revealing a headshot of a cute blonde dame who was too perfect to be anything but a synoid.

She smiled. Thank you for activating the Help System. Warning: manual control is illegal except for emergency situations. Please be advised that—

I thumped the console with my fist. “Whaddya think this is, a walk in the park? Stabilize this crate and find the nearest place to land safely — pipe that?”

Initiating emergency landing protocol. Stabilizing with backup thrusters.

The sensation of imminent death lessened when the floater quit spinning and sputtered into a semblance of controlled flight.

Warning: suspected threat approaching. Evasive maneuvers limited by engine and thruster damage.

“Where the hell is it?” I frantically peered out the window, but couldn’t spot the airbus. The rain was gleefully intent on reducing our vision to blurry streaks of light and mammoth shadows. I tapped the patented Instavision button in the corner of the window to clear the distracting drizzle and light up the view, but still couldn’t clap peepers on the attacking tank of a floater.

“I don’t see nothin’!” Benny's side windows were completely fogged up, and he appeared on the verge of tears again. What a load he turned out to be.