Saxon followed the wiring and pipes down to where he wanted to go. He used his


    shoot power on anything that looked like it supplied the rest of the ship. He couldn’t


    tell how much of an effect he was having, but the Mark was outside. If the ship fell


    toward the city, he would have to trust the hero to catch the thing and drop it where


    it wouldn’t hurt anybody.


    He ducked back as more of the metal men came out of a storage closet. He supposed


    they were going to fix the sabotage he had committed. They were going to see him


    first. He raised his hands and prepared to fight.


    He was able to fire off a couple of shots before his power ran out. He looked down


    at his hands. He turned and ran. He was powerless until his cooldown period passed.


    The metal men chased after him as he tried to keep ahead of them. He should have


    thought of keeping an eye on the clock. Now he was running.


    Maybe he should arm himself if decided to keep doing this crazy stuff.


    His buttons came alive. He pushed the jet buttons as he reached a corner. He nodded


    as the power rolled into his hands. It was time to reverse course.


    Saxon turned and used his visual overlay to target legs. He concentrated fire to drop


    the crew in place with busted knees. He didn’t bother to go for the power packs as


    they collapsed in a pile and blockaded the hall.


    He would have to go around.


    Saxon shook his head. He had a general idea of which way he should go. He worked


    his way back around the pile up. He reached the door heading into the engine room


    and paused.


    He hoped it was the engine room.


    He stepped across the threshold. Giant engines and dynamos spun power to feed the


    rest of the ship. He could build his own company from this if he had the schematics.


    The metal men drew his attention since they were charging him.


    Saxon decided to concentrate fire on the dynamos. Shutting the power down seemed


    more important than the advancing artificial men rushing him as fast as they could


    move. He moved to the right to shoot around his oncoming enemies. He nodded when


    the lights blinked out for a moment.


    He had to do more damage to allow the Mark to push the thing away from the city.


    It was the only way to protect the civilians from harm.


    He fired jet after jet into the works. Several of his targets folded from the beating


    without resistance. He knocked a flywheel with a belt off another engine down the


    way. He shook his head at having to destroy the kind of thing his boss would cut off


    a hand to work on.


    The ship shook around him. Had he done enough damage? What did he do now? He


    decided to head for the top deck and hope he hadn’t made a mistake.


    Crashing the thing into downtown Los Angeles was a loss. He didn’t want to think


    about the deaths he would cause when the thing hit.


    He very much didn’t want to think about his death if he was still onboard when the


    thing hit.


    Saxon rushed upstairs to the deck. He took potshots at any of the metal men who tried


    to get in his way. He didn’t try to wreck them. He didn’t have time for that.


    He ran out of shooting power as he rushed up toward the main deck. He thought that


    was what he needed. He didn’t need to get into another fight when he could just run


    away.


    He decided his ground surfing power was what he needed for this since his flying


    power wouldn’t work that well in a confined space. He didn’t want to keep hitting the


    walls while making his escape.


    He activated the buttons and slid along the staircase. He jumped up where he thought


    he wouldn’t hit anything, or could slide along the walls to avoid any impact. He


    reached the door to the main deck. Had he shut the field down?


    Saxon paused on the deck. Some of the rotors had stopped revolving. The air ship


    listed to the left side. He couldn’t tell if the field was still up.


    If the thing hit the ground, it would still wreck the city more than itself as long as the


    shield was protecting the main body of the aircraft.


    The back half of the thing broke off. He looked toward the stern. Had he done enough


    damage to cause that? It blasted across the sky toward the ocean.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He realized that Doctor Sybil had rigged part of the aircraft for a quick escape in case


    the Mark had broken through.


    That left the bow to crash into the street.


    He didn’t think he could stop it with his rocket power. Flying fast didn’t equate to


    moving mass anywhere.


    Could he push on the bottom of the ship and cushion the impact? Did he want to try?


    Could he save the city with just his jets?


    Saxon looked at the clock on his hand. He looked about ready to time out. Did he


    have enough time to save the day?


    Two minutes was forever.


    He touched down on the deck as his slide power ran out. He felt the buttons. They


    were cold to the touch. He started to slide down the incline to the lower side of the


    aircraft. If he fell off now, he wouldn’t have to worry about the ship hitting the street


    on top of him seconds after.


    Saxon slid toward the edge. He tried to grab part of the deck to keep from falling off.


    He wound up hitting part of a buckled plate and holding in place. He didn’t like the


    way the deck kept turning toward the street.


    How long did he have before it rolled over completely?


    The buttons on his hand warmed up. He pressed them all so he could fly. He jumped


    into the air and flew out. The wall was down so he didn’t crash into it.


    Saxon flew under the aircraft. He picked a spot that looked stable to put his back


    against. He began to push on it with his jet power. He didn’t think he was doing


    much, but the jets did seem to be pouring more power into the pressure on him.


    He knew he would give out before he lifted that weight. His body just wasn’t sturdy


    enough to move the tons of metal trying to fall to the street.


    A young man in a red suit appeared. A green twelve pointed star acted as a tie clip.


    He planted himself against the bulk of the ship and things felt lighter to Saxon.


    “Let me help you out,” said the Red Mark. He smiled as he pushed up against the


    aircraft.


    “Sybil?,” asked Saxon.


    “He dropped into the ocean,” said the Red Mark. “He’s long gone.”


    “All I can do is fly,” said Saxon. “There’s nothing I can do about the rest of this.”


    “Shutting down the force wall was enough,” said the Red Mark. “It gave me a chance


    to break in and drive Sybil off so the city couldn’t be harmed more than it already has.


    I just need to put this out in the desert somewhere and bury it.”


    “Is it all right if I take off?,” asked Saxon. He checked the clock on his hand.


    “Don’t you want credit for saving the city?,” asked the Red Mark. He smiled.


    “I don’t have time for that,” said Saxon. “I have to fly.”


    “All right,” said the Red Mark. “I can handle the rest of this. It shouldn’t take a


    couple of minutes of flight time to get things done.”


    “If you need someone to look the engines over, I know a guy,” said Saxon. “Have


    a good night.”


    He called up the marker for his house and jetted away. He didn’t have a lot of time


    left, but he should have enough to reach the neighborhood without too many


    problems.


    Saxon flew across the country as fast as he could. He wondered if he should have


    landed and recharged the clock. He decided that he could reach Idaville easily


    enough.


    His house loomed up as the clock counted down the last few seconds of his time. He


    headed down and hovered outside of his back door as the jets cut off. He dropped


    silently to the ground. He looked around before he went inside. It looked like


    his arrival hadn’t been as noisy as his other departures had been.


    He walked inside. His back was sore. His stomach growled. His hands bled some. He


    didn’t know why but thought it was some feedback from using his shoot power too


    much. Maybe having the stream so close to his hands rubbed them raw after a while.


    He decided that he should change out of his clothes and put them away before


    someone saw him. He didn’t need the neighbors asking any more questions than they


    already did.


    He changed in the bathroom, taking a shower to clean up, dropping his dirty costume


    in the dirty clothes hamper. He put on pajamas and went to the kitchen. He made


    a late dinner for himself. After he ate, he cleaned everything up and went back to


    the living room. He wondered if there was band music to listen to so he could relax


    and sleep in his chair until he felt like moving on to his bed.


    He listened to the radio until he fell asleep in the dark. Maybe his new power took


    more of a toll on his body than he thought.


    Saxon woke up a few hours later to silence. He looked at the radio. The network must


    have gone off the air for a bit. He got out of his chair, went to his bedroom and found


    his alarm clock had stopped because he had forgotten to wind it up. He checked his


    watch. He had plenty of time to get ready to go to work.


    He heard his stomach growl. Did he need more food in his system? If he kept using


    his jet power, he’ll be spending all of his money on groceries.


    He went into the kitchen. He checked the pantry and refrigerator. He didn’t have


    anything he could cook. He could hit a place on the drive to work. It was the best


    he could do at the moment.


    Saxon got dressed, made sure he had everything he needed for the office, and started


    out to his car. He spotted Maury Chadwick standing at the end of his driveway. He


    held the morning paper in his hands.


    “Any good news?,” Saxon asked. He checked his watch. He was leaving earlier than


    usual, so he had a minute to spare to talk to his neighbor.


    “I don’t know,” said Chadwick. “Some new hero saved L. A. according to the paper.


    They’re calling him the Rocket.”


    “You’re kidding,” said Saxon. “What do you mean the Rocket?”


    “It’s right here on the front page,” said Chadwick. He turned the paper so Saxon


    could read the headline for himself.


    Saxon read the story with a deepening frown. He tried not to give away how he felt


    about things.


    The Red Mark had told reporters on the scene that someone else had forced Doctor


    Sybil out of the air. He was proud that a new hero had taken up the mantle to


    protect the innocent people that would have harmed by the mad scientist.


    Saxon shook his head. Now Doctor Sybil was going to hold a grudge against him.


    He was going to have to move to Mars to stay out of trouble.


    Why hadn’t the Red Mark taken the credit? He wouldn’t have cared. Now he felt like


    his fun power was another burden to carry.


    Saxon got in his car and headed for a diner to eat. He didn’t feel like it, but he had to


    eat.


    Especially since he was a hero now.