HomeBase: AEGIS Mark III
Posted: Mon Mar 21, 2011 2:51 pm
“And the rocket’s red glare. The bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night. The our flag was still there.”
Joe’s eyes jerked open. It was hot. Warmer than he usually was. Where was he? The sun was beating down on him. It had to have been, otherwise-- how could things have gotten this dang hot? Was he wearing his armor? Oh god. His armor. He twitched, whirling around to try and get a glance as to what was on him. This wasn’t his usual white and grey. He didn’t feel the familiar flutter of the cape at his back. It felt-- it felt like he was wearing nothing! Like a second skin had curled itself around him like a protective blanket. It felt. Well, he hate to say it. But he felt good. And he was humming. Something strange that he couldn’t quite place. He had heard it before. Thousands of times, but the name was right on the tip of his tongue. There was another surge of heat and his eyes glazed over. When he opened them again the name had popped into his head. The Star Spangled Banner! Of course! He let out a little laugh, wiping his goggles with a squeak. Was he trying to wipe sweat from his brow? Oh, yeah. He couldn’t do that any more. He flushed a bit, and the heat tripled.
“Good, Joseph! Good!” A voice in his head. No, not in his head. In the little communicator attached to the side of his helmet. His hand reached up and he responded, almost without thinking. “Oh, uh! Good? What’d I--?” His eyes flitted this way and that. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. He was in a room. It was about three feet by three feet, covered in what appeared to be a glowing red-- steel? His eyes fluttered. “What’d I just--?” He mumbled. The voice responded without missing a beat. It was soothing. Like his father’s voice. Deep and bassy, with a thrum that made him go limp. Made his arms fall to his side. “You did fantastic, Joseph. You hit a record today! What say we whip you up a batch of our famous pancakes?” Pancakes sounded good. They sounded great. He nodded, head bobbing up and down slowly before collapsing.
And then he was in front of a table, with a few other scientists garbed in white lab coats. They were eating pancakes! Oh, he loved pancakes. In his hand was a little cup. In it were the mixed up remnants of breakfast for dinner. A little bit of pancake batter, whipped up with butter, syrup and milk. That was the only way to start the day. Several of the scientists were talking. To him! “Man, Joseph. You did amazing in there! We couldn’t even look directly at the monitors!” He felt good. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt really good. Like maybe he had done something fantastic. “We’re talking, white hot.” Said one pretty older scientist. Joe knew her by name. Margaret. She said she had two kids and had a way of glancing at him that made him weak in the knees. She was probably married. He had never asked. Joe flushed, looking back down at his shake.
“I, uh. I’m sure it wasn’t that big a deal.” Talking like he knew what they were saying. Talking like he had earned this sickly sweet concoction sliding down his throat. “I mean, uh. It’s the same thing I do every day-- right?”
“This time, Joe. It was crazy!” Several scientists extended glasses of milk and orange juice. “To Joe! America’s next Statesman!” The rest did the same. Some cheered. Joe was grinning like an idiot under his restrictive face-gear. “Hey, we’ve got a new suit for you!” One piped in. Not the pretty lady. But a girl all the same. Joe stood almost immediately, like a dog that had just heard his name. “Wha-- a new suit? But I’ve only had this one for..?” He trailed off. How long had it been? “Old hat!” She said, ushering him over to a space next to the refrigerator. They were in a kitchen. But it wasn’t quite a kitchen. Something was off. “Look at this.” She picked up a small clipboard and started rattling off features. “Padded joints for extra ease and mobility! Ceramic plates that respond directly to pressure. You get hit by a car, they’ll compensate! In-house oxygen storage. You’ll have up to a day of fresh oxygen if the respirator gives out. Several movable sections for studd. Good place to put your iPhone, am I right?” Joe laughed as she nudged his chest suggestively. She was kind of pretty, too. But in a less classy way than her superior. She was still talking, but he wasn’t quite paying attention. He heard some things he didn’t understand. There was another round of applause. He turned to his admiring public. “Thanks-- uh. Guys. You know, for everything. I mean, if it wasn’t for you. I’d still be in--” They nodded, all of them. Understanding.
“We’re here for you, Joe,” The pretty lead scientist talking. Margaret. “Don’t you ever forget that. You need anything and all you have to do is call.” He was blushing again. Hard to think when she smiled at him. “What say we give our boy some privacy while he changes, eh?” The group exited the makeshift kitchen, nudging him on the shoulder. Ruffling his hair. Laughing. Telling him how great he was and how this was just the beginning.
Joe turned to appraise the armor as a small oxygen hood detached from the wall. “Mark III.” He mumbled. “Awesome.”
“Oh, say does that star spangled banner yet wave, o’er the land of the free. And the home
of the
brave.”
Joe’s eyes jerked open. It was hot. Warmer than he usually was. Where was he? The sun was beating down on him. It had to have been, otherwise-- how could things have gotten this dang hot? Was he wearing his armor? Oh god. His armor. He twitched, whirling around to try and get a glance as to what was on him. This wasn’t his usual white and grey. He didn’t feel the familiar flutter of the cape at his back. It felt-- it felt like he was wearing nothing! Like a second skin had curled itself around him like a protective blanket. It felt. Well, he hate to say it. But he felt good. And he was humming. Something strange that he couldn’t quite place. He had heard it before. Thousands of times, but the name was right on the tip of his tongue. There was another surge of heat and his eyes glazed over. When he opened them again the name had popped into his head. The Star Spangled Banner! Of course! He let out a little laugh, wiping his goggles with a squeak. Was he trying to wipe sweat from his brow? Oh, yeah. He couldn’t do that any more. He flushed a bit, and the heat tripled.
“Good, Joseph! Good!” A voice in his head. No, not in his head. In the little communicator attached to the side of his helmet. His hand reached up and he responded, almost without thinking. “Oh, uh! Good? What’d I--?” His eyes flitted this way and that. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. He was in a room. It was about three feet by three feet, covered in what appeared to be a glowing red-- steel? His eyes fluttered. “What’d I just--?” He mumbled. The voice responded without missing a beat. It was soothing. Like his father’s voice. Deep and bassy, with a thrum that made him go limp. Made his arms fall to his side. “You did fantastic, Joseph. You hit a record today! What say we whip you up a batch of our famous pancakes?” Pancakes sounded good. They sounded great. He nodded, head bobbing up and down slowly before collapsing.
And then he was in front of a table, with a few other scientists garbed in white lab coats. They were eating pancakes! Oh, he loved pancakes. In his hand was a little cup. In it were the mixed up remnants of breakfast for dinner. A little bit of pancake batter, whipped up with butter, syrup and milk. That was the only way to start the day. Several of the scientists were talking. To him! “Man, Joseph. You did amazing in there! We couldn’t even look directly at the monitors!” He felt good. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt really good. Like maybe he had done something fantastic. “We’re talking, white hot.” Said one pretty older scientist. Joe knew her by name. Margaret. She said she had two kids and had a way of glancing at him that made him weak in the knees. She was probably married. He had never asked. Joe flushed, looking back down at his shake.
“I, uh. I’m sure it wasn’t that big a deal.” Talking like he knew what they were saying. Talking like he had earned this sickly sweet concoction sliding down his throat. “I mean, uh. It’s the same thing I do every day-- right?”
“This time, Joe. It was crazy!” Several scientists extended glasses of milk and orange juice. “To Joe! America’s next Statesman!” The rest did the same. Some cheered. Joe was grinning like an idiot under his restrictive face-gear. “Hey, we’ve got a new suit for you!” One piped in. Not the pretty lady. But a girl all the same. Joe stood almost immediately, like a dog that had just heard his name. “Wha-- a new suit? But I’ve only had this one for..?” He trailed off. How long had it been? “Old hat!” She said, ushering him over to a space next to the refrigerator. They were in a kitchen. But it wasn’t quite a kitchen. Something was off. “Look at this.” She picked up a small clipboard and started rattling off features. “Padded joints for extra ease and mobility! Ceramic plates that respond directly to pressure. You get hit by a car, they’ll compensate! In-house oxygen storage. You’ll have up to a day of fresh oxygen if the respirator gives out. Several movable sections for studd. Good place to put your iPhone, am I right?” Joe laughed as she nudged his chest suggestively. She was kind of pretty, too. But in a less classy way than her superior. She was still talking, but he wasn’t quite paying attention. He heard some things he didn’t understand. There was another round of applause. He turned to his admiring public. “Thanks-- uh. Guys. You know, for everything. I mean, if it wasn’t for you. I’d still be in--” They nodded, all of them. Understanding.
“We’re here for you, Joe,” The pretty lead scientist talking. Margaret. “Don’t you ever forget that. You need anything and all you have to do is call.” He was blushing again. Hard to think when she smiled at him. “What say we give our boy some privacy while he changes, eh?” The group exited the makeshift kitchen, nudging him on the shoulder. Ruffling his hair. Laughing. Telling him how great he was and how this was just the beginning.
Joe turned to appraise the armor as a small oxygen hood detached from the wall. “Mark III.” He mumbled. “Awesome.”
“Oh, say does that star spangled banner yet wave, o’er the land of the free. And the home
of the
brave.”