The newcomer, a petite but very attractive woman with blonde hair, flashed him a dazzling smile. "My goodness, it’s Dr. Newcombe, isn’t it? Charmed to make your acquaintance."
"You’re not supposed to be in here."
"Oh, but of course I know. Just as I know what you and Mr. Dalton are scheming." She raised a finger to her lips. "Mum’s the word. Worry not, Doctor…my goodness, that sounds so formal. Have you a proper name?"
Newcombe gaped at the woman, unaware that he was already falling under the spell of her delightful accent. "Fi-Findlay."
"Well, Findlay, I am Miss Amelia Dunham, but I insist that you call me ‘Amelia, darling’…" She tittered as if it were a great joke, but then continued in a more subdued voice. "Here’s the rub, Findlay. I am a journalist with the London Daily Telegraph on assignment to learn all about the Outpost — oh, yes, it’s not the grand secret you imagine it to be and after I wire my story to the home office, the whole world will know, too. Unless of course…"
"Y-yes? I mean, unless what?"
"Well, I would dearly love to see this Outpost with my own eyes. What do you say, Findlay, dear? Think there’s room for one more aboard your marvelous Float Car?"
Newcombe gesticulated and fumbled inarticulately. "Dodge… How will I explain it to Dodge? Mr. Dalton, that is."
The woman calling herself Amelia took a step forward, extending a delicate manicured hand to take his. "Come now, Findlay, dear. You are a genius, after all. Let’s think of something together, shall we?"
CHAPTER 8 — REACH FOR THE SKY
Dodge arrived promptly at seven P.M. and found Newcombe nervously puttering about the laboratory. "Ready to go, Doc?"
The scientist jumped as if startled. "Ah, Mr. Dalton."
"Might as well start calling me ‘Dodge.’ All my friends do." He started walking through the hangar, back to the area where the Float Car was stabled.
Newcombe’s mouth twitched, but he did not quite smile. "Dodge it is, then. Uh, Dodge, there’s something I need to…ah, explain."
"Can we do it along the way?"
"Well, that’s just the thing. There’s been a little—"
Dodge came to an abrupt halt as he caught a glimpse of a blonde-haired figure standing alongside the makeshift flying machine. The woman flashed a disarming smile. "My goodness, if it isn’t Mr. Dalton."
"Who the devil are you? Doc, what’s going on here?"
Newcombe hastily interposed himself between Dodge and the woman. "That’s what I was trying to tell you. This is Miss Dunham. She’s going to be coming with us."
Dodge shook his head as if trying to wake himself up. "No, she’s not."
The woman — Amelia — maintained her smile. "Come now, Mr. Dalton…may I call you ‘Dodge’?"
"No."
Her full lips turned down in a mock pout. "And I was hoping we could be friends."
"You were wrong, Miss Dunham."
Newcombe moved in close and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "Dodge, she’s a reporter. She knows everything and says that if we don’t take her, she’ll tell the world in her newspaper."
Dodge was unmoved by the threat. "Let her tell them. She’s not coming with us. Now, Miss Dunham, if you’ll excuse us, we need to be going."
The blond woman suddenly scrambled into the Float Car and gripped the armrests of a chair. "You’ll not get rid of me that easy."
Dodge balled his fists, more to hide his frustration than as a display of belligerence. "Maybe you should reconsider the ‘easy’ option, lady."
Before he could advance however, another voice barked out a command. "Everyone stay where you are."
Dodge turned to find a uniformed soldier, wearing a helmet and armband that identified him as a military policeman, standing in the entrance to the storage area with his sidearm extended. "Dr. Newcombe, what’s going on here?"
The scientist gaped and stammered, but no coherent explanation was forthcoming. Dodge raised his hands submissively. "Let me explain, Sergeant. I’m David Dalton, one of the project directors. I can show you my authorization—"
"Can it, pal. I heard what you all were saying in here; something about leaving and taking Dr. Newcombe with you. You can explain it to General Vaughn. Until then, you’re all under arrest."
"Arrest?" The woman’s British accent and almost laughing tone made it seem as though she considered the whole encounter humorous. "Sergeant, I’m certain that you have no authority to interfere with Dr. Newcombe’s activities here."
"Stow it, lady. I don’t know you from Eve. Get down outta that thing and keep your yap shut."
Dodge stared fixedly at the pistol in the MP’s grip. He didn’t doubt that the soldier would take lethal action to prevent their escape, but chances were good that he would use it only if he saw no other alternative. If I can just make it to the Float Car… "Sergeant, she’s absolutely right. You are overstepping your authority and interfering with an important experiment." He took a bold step toward the machine.
"Halt!"
"Sergeant, there’s an unstable power source in this device and if you don’t at least allow me to shut it off, this whole hangar could go up."
The gun barrel wavered just a little and the MP glanced at Newcombe. To his credit, the scientist caught on to the bluff and nodded vigorously. "Very unstable."
The pistol again stabbed toward Dodge. "You stay put. Doc, you can get up in there and shut it down."
"I’ll stay right here." Dodge raised his hands a little higher and, as he did, took a sideways step toward the Float Car.
Newcombe gave a slight nod — a gesture directed mostly toward Dodge, then clambered into the device. "This will only take a moment, Sergeant…oh my!"
"What’s wrong?" The question was asked almost simultaneously by the three onlookers — Dodge, the MP and the attractive woman calling herself Amelia Dunham.
"The metal in your gun is reacting with the bronzium core. You really might want to think about taking a few steps back."
Dodge didn’t think that Newcombe sounded very convincing, but the MP seemed to buy it. Although he kept his bead on Dodge, the soldier began edging toward the door. "Just turn it off before it blows."
"Of course. I’ll have it one… two… and three!"
On cue, Dodge leaped for the Float Car. He felt a tingle of electricity crackling against his skin and at that very instant, a loud concussion filled the hangar as the soldier fired his pistol. Dodge continued his scramble into the vehicle, disdaining the repeated bursts of gunfire and similarly ignoring the yelps of the blond woman.
None of the bullets found their mark; it was as though the gun was loaded with blanks. In the instant that Newcombe activated the exoskeleton, causing the Float Car to lift off the ground a few inches, an impenetrable electrical bubble had been created around the craft. The projectiles from the MP’s weapon had hit a shield of energy that stopped them cold, leaving the occupants of the Float Car unscathed. But invulnerability was not the same as freedom.
Ignoring Amelia, Dodge muscled past Newcombe and gripped the controls. He didn’t know exactly how to fly the machine, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. He slid into the driver seat and gripped the steering wheel.
Newcombe had utilized basic automobile controls — a pair of foot pedals, a steering wheel and a gear shift lever — and for the most part, they worked much like their counterparts in a wheeled vehicle. The steering wheel turned the craft on a horizontal plane, while a tap on the "gas" pedal caused the whole thing to move forward. Dodge however gave it more than a tap and the Float Car burst forward, smashing into the tin wall of the hangar. The sturdy barrier of wood and sheet metal tore apart like wet paper and the craft with its three passengers exploded out into the night, leaving the stunned MP behind while he fumbled to reload his sidearm.