Darius is dead. No one can take a direct hit from a thermonuclear missile without fatal consequences. Darius is no exception. The pearly cloud in the north is a mute testimony to Darius' fate.

The first link in this chain of events was forged back in Palmdale with the unveiling of the space shuttle. Darius was disappointed. "Too big, too much bulk!", he said, indicating the shuttle.

He explained to me that the engine-to-payload ratio was wrong and added some technical jargon that was above my head. Anyhow, he was unhappy about the shuttle and had a facial expression that just spelled stubbornness.

I did not see him for three days after the shuttle was unveiled. In that time I only heard from him once, a brief phone call. He asked that I keep people away from his house for a couple of days. I asked if there was anything wrong, but he said there was not. Finally, shrugging it off as another of his eccentricities, I let the matter rest.

When I did see Darius, he was nearly intoxicated with joy. He came over to my place to pick me up.

We went to his shack near Lancaster, where He showed me inside. "My workshop," he said with a blank stare and trancelike smile, "and my work!" An object in a well lit corner of the shack caught my attention. It was almost rectangular, about twelve feet long, five feet wide and not more than four feet high. There was a slight taper on the end facing me, and a transparent veiw port was on top, about half way back. The whole object had a streamlined appearance. Although it had no wings, I knew it was made to fly.

Darius broke my spellbound gaze by requesting that I help him with another object. There were two of them, cylindrical, with a maze of wires and relays making up the main bulk. Darius and I lifted one, with much difficulty, and fitted it in a hollow tube in the back of the larger object. He did likewise with the other cylinder. Darius spent almost an hour making connections between the cylinders and their housings. When he was apparently finished, he broke into a satisfied grin and said, "No reason we can't test it, huh?" All I could do was nod in agreement.

The thing flew better than any plane I'd ever been in. The ride was smooth even under high acceleration. The seats were small, but comfortable. There were few controls; just a few gauges, switches and an electronic throttle. Darius took it up to 60,000 feet where the view was astounding. I could see the ocean to the west, Edwards AFB and Rogers Dry Lake to the Northeast, and Palmdale to the south. The sky up there was a deep purple that blended into black at the zenith, although no stars were visible. It was definitely anticlimactic when Darius brought the airship back down.

I was out of work at that time, so it was no trouble for me to move in with Darius. The day after the test flight I brought some of my personal effects over and put them in a foot locker.

After I had put my stuff away Darius called me over to the airship. He was checking the seal on the view port and asked me to hand him a ball peen hammer. I accidently dropped the hammer before he could grasp it and it fell, hitting the side of the airship. Just then there was a flash of light and a slight phosphorescence where the hammer had hit. Darius had a look of annoyance and I frowned, wondering why he would build that into his airship. Must have been another one of his eccentricities.

About a month after the airship's first test flight, I had gotten a part time job in Lancaster and had moved all my belongings in with Darius. During that month he taught me to fly the airship and how to perform some basic maintenance. It was at that time that he decided to introduce me to one of his more recent inventions. It looked like an ordinary Sony TV set, but I knew it was something special. "What is it?" I asked. Darius was quick to answer, "Radar set, I'll show you how it works." He showed me how the channel selector adjusted the range and the UHF tuner adjusted the frequency. There was even a pulsating red dot that marked the position of the airship. I guess the neat thing about Darius was that he always thought of everything.

When Darius had a call on the World Band radio, I could detect the urgency of it, in spite of the caller`s foreign language. After the call, Darius explained, "That was a friend of mine in the Soviet Union. One of the generators at a power station there has overloaded. They need me immediately."

"You'll take the airship?"
"Yes, I have to get there quick."
"How can you?"
"I'll go into space. Just a sub-orbital hop, but it will save time."

We agreed that I would moniter the flight with the radar set. In just a few minutes Darius had loaded up his tool kit and took off, leaving me to tend the shop.

In a matter of hours, Darius was on his way back. The pulse and the on the radar set became steadier and stronger as he approached. I wouldn't have known what happened had it not been for the Government Band radio Darius had. A conversation came from the loudspeaker, "Edwards four two zero, bogie at eleven o'clock, range is seven four one!"

"Vandenberg fire control, bogie confirmed! Can't get a fix on her though."

"Four two zero, she's a Ruskie, maybe four yards in size, approaching fast!"

"Roger! We'll pick her off. Vandenberg fire control, out!"

The speaker went silent. I rushed out the door, taking the radar set with me, and set it up outside. As I watched the screen, a small dot converged with the red dot of the airship. Toward the north there was a blinding flash of light and as the ground tremored slightly, I stood there transfixed, unable to do anything.

As the initial shock of Darius' death wears off, I find that I am shaking. I've got to pull myself together, to be calm until I can sort out the facts from the overwhelming emotions. I take the radar set with me as I go inside, casting a final glance at the glowing patch of sky. It is nearly dark outside and the room is poorly lit, so I lie down on my bunk. I must consider the practical matter of notifying the authorities of Darius' death, but I wonder who would believe me. Thoughts like these drone in my mind as I drift into a dreamless sleep.

There is a monotonous noise, like water dripping from a faucet. My watch says it is three A.M. I am still a bit groggy and the noise is puzzling. Where is it coming from? I scan the room. My God, it's the radar set! I bolt upright and get to it in time to see a red dot materialize on the screen. It is approaching rapidly. I run outside, still in a daze. Toward the north, a bright star drifts across the background of the sky. it gets brighter, then takes on a definite shape. The airship is returning.

Now it is I who is intoxicated with joy as Darius and I sit and discuss the night's events. The awesome relief I feel cannot be expressed. After a protracted greeting we collaborate information. "What happened to you when the missile hit?" I venture to ask.

"Do you remember what happened when you dropped that hammer?"

"Sure!"

"Same effect from the bomb, except for the engines.

You see, they're powered by thermonuclear fusion, same as the bomb, so the explosion charged my engines."

"But you disappeared! Was it some kind of time warp?"

"No, it's more like suspended animation. The energy difference between the bomb and my engines was small. It gave the airship a small time velocity factor."

"A small what?"

"It works out like this; in the fifteen seconds it took me to discharge the engines and get back into real time, nearly nine hours had gone by for you."

That makes sense. Darius had been hit by the missile only a few minutes before he landed, by his reckoning. We continue discussing the experience as dawn's light glows in the east. Darius takes notice that it's nearly sunrise. "I had the flight recorders running," he says, "and have many observations on the suspended animation effect." I yawn, casting a weary eye toward my bunk as he continues, "So, let's get to work!" Impossible? Maybe so, but somehow I know he'll succeed.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 21.08.2011

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