The Blue Corvette

The Blue Corvette
by
Raman Jalota

    Jim Bailey gently cradled the steering wheel in his hands. He pressed down on the accelerator, zooming past the two semis and onto a clear stretch of road. This baby has been worth it. I love the way it moves.
    The road curved at the edge of his vision, dead man's curve was approaching. He smiled in anticipation of the smooth feel of his Corvette going around the curve. He gently moved the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator. I have done it at 80 miles before. Let's see if I can take it at 90.
    Everything slowed down. He could see the car at the apex of the curve, the tires flattening against the road as he pushed it to 90 miles. At the moment the car was at the farthest edge of the curve, he saw the six-inch rock just under his left front wheel. The tire flattening to take the curve didn't have enough force to push it out of the way. It gave way and the wheel jerked the steering out of the soft control of Jim's hands. Before he could grasp the steering wheel back and control the car, the car gently slipped towards the left, hit the railing and flew into space.
    Oh damn. What do I do now?
    The car flew thirty feet in the air and moved towards the left. It hovered in space for a moment and started nosing down towards the side of the mountain. Jim gripped the wheel stunned and unable to do anything but stare with wide eyes as the rocky mountainside rushed up to meet the blue Corvette.
    He stared into unblinking deep blue eyes. After a while, he realized he was staring into his own eyes. His face lay pressed against the rear view mirror. There was a pulsating pain on the side of his head. His body was completely immobile.
    The seat belt must be holding me in. Probably saved my life. What do I do now? He tried to feel his legs. Nothing.
    Where are my hands? Nothing. Panic built and rose spiraling out of control, he screamed as he blacked out.

.....

    Jim Bailey gently cradled the steering wheel in his hands. He pressed down on the accelerator, zooming past the two semis and onto a clear stretch of road. This baby has been worth it. I love the way it moves.
    The road curved at the edge of his vision; dead man's curve was approaching ahead. He smiled in anticipation of the smooth feel of his Corvette going around the curve. He gently moved the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator. I have done it at 80 miles before. Let's see if I can do it at ....
    Something nudged him, as if trying to wake him from a deep sleep. He could not make the connection.
I have done it at 80 miles before. Let's see if I can do it at .... if I can still do it at 80.
    Everything slowed down. He could see the car at the apex of the curve, the tires flattening against the road as he maintained it at 80 miles. At the moment the car was at the farthest edge of the curve, he saw the three-foot boulder sitting just left of the middle of the road. He didn't have enough time to clear the boulder. He was going to hit it. He hit it with the left side of the car, the impact tore the steering wheel off his hands. Before he could grab the wheel back and slam on the brakes, the car hit the railing and flew into space.
    Oh damn. What do I do now?
    The car flew twenty feet in the air and turned left, nosing down towards the side of the mountain. Jim gripped the wheel stunned and unable to do anything but stare with wide eyes as the rocky mountainside rushed up to meet the blue Corvette.
    He stared into unblinking deep blue eyes. After a while, he realized he was staring into his own eyes. His face lay pressed against the rear view mirror. There was a pulsating pain on the side of his head. His body was completely immobile.
    The seat belt must be holding me in. Probably saved my life. What do I do now? He tried to feel his legs. Nothing.
    Where are my hands? Nothing. Panic started to build up and rise spiraling out of control, he screamed and moved his hands towards his face.
     Something was different. I have been through this before ... but not exactly. What's different? I can feel my hands; and my face.
    Something was covering his mouth. The device had a strap that held it over his face. The pulsating pain on both sides of his head was a little more decipherable. It felt like two disks were stuck to either side of his head. Small metallic disks sending through jolts of pain.

.....

    Doctor Johan Foster moved away from the operating table. He took off his gloves and stood with his back facing the nurse. She removed his surgical gown quickly. He pulled off his mask and breathed deeply.
    “It’s getting close. I think he may be ready for release now.”
    “Are you really sure Johan? Bailey is getting close to unveiling the secret. Can we let him loose with just two treatments? I think we should evaluate him when he regains consciousness. Do you agree?”
    Johan had listened quietly to commander Wilson, chief of north regional operations. That’s what he was bred for. To listen, to analyze and to follow. Always to follow. The brain surgery was added to his components as the need arose and his talents added up correctly.
    “Absolutely sir. There’s nothing worse than taking a chance with the secrecy of our operations. He could jeopardize our mission if the modification is not fully absorbed. I’ll be back tomorrow for the next installment, see you tomorrow.”
    He weakly waved his hand to the nurse and walked out to his office. He felt happy and lightheaded, this had been a good day. He looked out the window of his office. The bright October day was warm and inviting. A good day to fly, he thought and got ready.

.....

    Jim Bailey gently cradled the steering wheel in his hands. He pressed down on the accelerator, zooming past the two semis and onto a clear stretch of road. This baby has been worth it. I love the way it moves.
    The road curved at the edge of his vision, dead man's curve was approaching. He smiled in anticipation of the smooth feel of his Corvette going around the curve. He gently moved the steering wheel and flattened his foot to feel the accelerator. I have done it at 80 miles before. Let's see if I can do it at ....
    Something nudged him, as if trying to wake him from a deep sleep. He could not make the connection.
What had happened here, before today? I have done the dead man’s curve at 80 miles before. Let's see if I can do it at .... no, I must slow down.
    An unknown panic hit him. Brake! The thought flashed into his mind.
    But why? Why should I brake? What happened here? What’s supposed to happen here? Everything slowed down. He could see the car at the apex of the curve, the tires flattening against the road as he slowed it to under 50 miles. Dead man’s curve. He looked at the towering mountain that rose to one side and the deep slope on the other side. It looked so majestic and peaceful. What could happen here? At the moment the car was at the farthest edge of the curve, he felt the road shake. Huge rocks started sliding down the side of the mountain pounding the road ahead. He didn't have enough time to think. Before he could start braking and turning the car, he hit one of the fat boulders. He hit it head on, the impact spun the car 90 degrees. More rocks came hurling down the mountain pushing the car off the road.
    Oh damn. What do I do now?
    The car screeched against the broken ends of the railing, pointed down and started rolling down the slope. Jim gripped the wheel, he slammed on the brakes, nothing ... the engine was dead ... and so were the brakes. The car carried him down, stunned and unable to do anything but stare with wide eyes as the blue Corvette raced down the mountain. Two hundred feet down, it decided to turn and roll, faster and faster, spinning his head.
    He stared into unblinking deep blue eyes. After a while, he realized he was staring into his own eyes. His face lay pressed against the rear view mirror. There was a pulsating pain on the side of his head. His body was completely immobile.
    The seat belt must be holding me in. Probably saved my life. What do I do now? He tried to feel his legs. Nothing.
    Where are my hands? Nothing. Panic started to build up and rise spiraling out of control, he screamed and moved his hands towards his face.
    Something was different. I have been through this before ... but not exactly. What's different? His analytical mind raced through his memories.
    Is this real? Is this really happening?

.....

    Special agent Jim Bailey walked into a building that didn’t exist in any record of the Pentagon. The Sargent checked first his ID and then his face against the picture his monitor displayed from the database. He motioned him to proceed.
    “This is special agent Jim Bailey” he spoke in the microphone and pushed his hands on the flat scanner.
The two guards with the automatics watched as the steel door unlocked with the combination of his identity algorithm and he breathed a sigh of relief. He knew if the security computer didn’t let him in, the guards won’t let him live either. This was dangerous work. Secret, volatile and critical for national security. No one had to repeat the importance of the job after he had been inside the building the first time.
    Project AA had a security ranking of seven. He had wondered if there were projects that had higher ratings and what would they consist of? He dared not ask. The ten years with the marines and the FBI had pushed him in a direction he had never imagined. His analytical ability and intuitive decision making combined to create the man most suitable for the AA project.
    AA stood for Alien Appearances. The two file folders that he had started with three years ago had since grown into three file cabinets and 20 pita bytes of computer data. Instances of human appearances with suspicious backgrounds ... people appearing with plausible explanations of who they were and why they had come to where they had arrived ... but a thorough investigation revealed holes in the histories of people who perhaps really didn’t exist but could have existed.
    Jim’s job was to explore, analyze, predict and present his theories and findings. He had no limits on how long he might take to finish his study. Unlimited resources or as close as any one could imagine. It was a dream job like no other that ever existed, it fitted his mental capability and working style perfectly.
    Jim walked to the end of the fourth floor corridor and touched the sensor with his right hand and the door clicked open. He walked into his office and turned on his computer. He flipped through the two files on his desk, scribbling notes on the files. He looked up to see special agent Marla Scott at the door. He buzzed her in.
    “What’s new Marla?”
    “We have three more cases in the finished file. And that makes 31. Over 10 percent. You ready to move to the next level Jim?” She was beaming. The next level was what they had been waiting for forever.
    “Oh boy! I knew we could do it within a few months, but already ... in October. Wow. 298 cases logged, 14 resolved at stage two, and now, 31 with impeccable proof of non-existence. People who do not exist, whose histories have critical info holes that we can prove and no explanation of why ... only facts that are impeccably proven to be false.”
    “We should celebrate, what do you say Jim?”
    “Sure, time to celebrate and then we hit the road, at long last the fifth and final stage starts now.”

.....

    Jim Bailey gently cradled the steering wheel in his hands. He pressed down on the accelerator, zooming past the two semis and onto a clear stretch of road. This baby has been worth it. I love the way it moves.
    The road curved at the edge of his vision, dead man's curve was approaching. He smiled in anticipation of the smooth feel of his Corvette going around the curve. He gently moved the steering wheel and flattened his foot to feel the accelerator. I have done it at 80 miles before. Let's see if I can do ....
    Something nudged him, as if trying to wake him from a deep sleep. He could not make the connection.
What had happened here, before today? I have done the dead man’s curve at .... I need to slow down .... I must slow down.
    An unknown panic hit him. Brake! The thought flashed into his mind.
    But why? Why should I brake? What happened here? What’s supposed to happen here? No that’s not correct? What has been happening here? I’ve been through this before? Haven’t I?
    Everything slowed down. He could see the car at the apex of the curve, the tires flattening against the road as he braked to slow the car to less than 20 miles. Dead man’s curve. He looked at the towering mountain that rose to one side and the deep slope on the other side. It looked so majestic and peaceful. What had happened here? What’s supposed to happen here? He had a vision of his car flying through space and coming crashing down hundreds of feet below. He glanced at the road cautiously. As the car approached the farthest edge of the curve, he felt the road shake. Huge rocks started sliding down the side of the mountain pounding the road. A rock slide. He stopped and stared. Is this what they call clairvoyance? Did I predict this event somehow? As he toyed with the thought, the road split in two ... this is no rockslide, this is an earthquake. He didn't have enough time to think. The hole grew larger and larger. The car slowly floated down the hole that was growing wider by the second.
    Oh damn. What do I do now?
    The car was being pounded by rocks and the windows were covered with dirt and mud. It was pitch black. Jim gripped the wheel, shaking and shouting in impotence. The car carried him down, stunned and unable to do anything but stare with wide eyes as the blue Corvette raced down the abyss. Several hundred feet down, it decided to spin.
    He stared into unblinking deep blue eyes. After a while, he realized he was staring into his own eyes. His face lay pressed against the rear view mirror. There was a pulsating pain on the side of his head. His body was completely immobile.
    The seat belt must be holding me in. Probably saved my life. What do I do now? He tried to feel his legs. Nothing.
    Where are my hands? Nothing. Panic started to build up and rise spiraling out of control, he screamed and moved his hands towards his face.
    Something was different. I have been through this before ... but not exactly. What's different? His analytical mind raced through his memories.
    Is this real? Is this really happening? Have I lived through this before? Have I died through this before?

.....

    Doctor Foster raised his head and inquired loudly, ”Is the reading still at one hundred percent?”
    “Yes Doctor.”
    “How long has he been there at one hundred?”
    “Thirty seven minutes.”
    “Good, I think we can leave him hooked for the full two hours. I’ll be back to close him up then. Keep monitoring for any fluctuation.”
    Johan changed and walked to Commander Wilson’s office.
    “Bailey has been steady at a hundred percent for the last thirty seven minutes. I want him hooked for the full two hours. Would you agree that this should be enough?”
    “I like the progressive spiral you have tuned him for, but I have heard nothing but extreme praise for this man and his genius. Can you short circuit the recording?”
    “That would be extremely delicate. But if that’s what you want. I’ll prepare for that.”
    “Yes, Johan. A little more work but I feel it would be worth it.”
    “O.K. commander.”
    He walked back to his office and faced the monitor, ”Open blue Corvette.”
    He studied the programming algorithms for a long time. He picked up a pointed probe and touched the monitor with the probe, gently tracing a path that would loop at several points. It took him more than the estimated two hours. Finally he laid the probe down.
    “It’s done. Compile.” He waited for the monitor to acknowledge its readiness.
    “Catalog and burn.” He smiled with the contented smile of a difficult task accomplished flawlessly.
    He pushed a button on the voicecom, ”You should be receiving the new disk shortly. Change the recording for Jim Bailey.”
    “Yes doctor Johan. The disk is just coming in. Will do.”

.....

     Jim Bailey gently cradled the steering wheel in his hands. He pressed down on the accelerator, zooming past the two semis and onto a clear stretch of road. This baby has been worth it. I love the way it moves.
    The road curved at the edge of his vision, dead man's curve was approaching. He smiled in anticipation of the smooth feel of his Corvette going around the curve. He felt the steering wheel shake slightly and instinctively looked down at the steering. He looked up.
    The road curved at the edge of his vision, dead man's curve was approaching. He smiled in anticipation of the smooth feel of his Corvette going around the curve. He felt the steering wheel shake slightly and instinctively looked down at the steering. He looked up. The road curved at the edge of his vision, dead man's curve was approaching. He smiled in anticipation.

.....

    Marla and Jim walked into Rudy’s. The maitre de greeted his regular customers and showed them to their table in the back.
    Sipping her Sherry Marla looked into Jim’s blue eyes, ”What are you going to do with your bonus?”
    “Well, it will all depend on how much we do actually get.”
    “Well, you know damn well, we have concluded the fourth stage and we are ahead of schedule. What do you get? Thirty or forty K?”
    “I get thirty. Don’t you get the same?”
    “Yeah, so; what are you going to do with the thirty thousand?”
    “I think its time for me to get another car. A toy this time. A Corvette.”
    “Yeah, you look like a guy who would drive a Corvette. I bet you want a red Corvette.”
    “Wrong Marla. I want a blue Corvette.”

The End    3223 words

Copyright © 2004 Raman Jalota. All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

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