(Continues from Firefly)
The sky laid an egg with our company logo embossed it. Wonderful, I’d be charged for using company property the one time I’d earned it.
The capsule’s rear thrusters switched to hover mode as small gouts of flame issued from lateral thrusters to maneuver the egg-shaped transport close to the platform. A door slid up, and a metallic hand beckoned me inside. The first robot handed me off to the second one. I played human skin sack and allowed my metallic friends to manhandle me into a couch. Restraining belts issued from all corners of the gray upholstered nightmare sucking into its comfy niche.
My former robotic companion froze in the act of withdrawing with its smooth head tilted in thought. Maybe the mothership, aka the big boss, radioed in a request. He must have heard about my shocking incident.
“I’ve been informed that your trip is being covered by the company. Have a pleasant evening. Do keep in mind if you develop any further symptoms such as dizziness, loss of balance … ” the robot rattled on for a good five minutes before finishing with, “seek professional medical treatment at your earliest convenience.”
Yeah right, me seek ‘medical care?’ I hated needles and all the attendant horror of doctor visits. Tongue depressors used to send me into fits of uncontrollable laughter. But I finger-waved my assent from the couch retraining me, and the door slid closed.
I never gave my destination, but perhaps it was obvious where we headed. So the capsule engaged its thrusters and sped off through a cement and glass jungle. Dodging other personal flyers, we zigzagged through downtown and then swerved into the suburbs. Through the window, I watched the ‘burbs blur past in a jagged line of buildings. We hovered near one, and a pane of glass slid aside so the building could stick out its silver tongue at me. The egg lowered until it touched the landing pad and my restraints retracted dumping me onto the floor.
Some had placed a convenient ramp there, and I rolled off it onto the landing pad. The egg’s thrusters engaged, and it lifted off as my building retracted its tongue. The landing pad tilted and I rolled into the building, down its throat and came to a stop at a door. I bumped it, and an electric eye peered out the keyhole from suite number 55503–my home sweet home.
The door louvered aside, groaning a bit for good measure. I dug my fingers into the thick pile and belly crawled inside. The door sensor malfunctioned as my waist passed the threshold. The door crashed into my side shoving me into its rebar frame. Pain erupted. My spine crunched and my internal organs ground against each other.
My son toddled into the living room, dropped his blankie and screamed.
To be continued …