Fleming didn't look too badly hurt, although he was bleeding from his mouth. Roger ripped open the hatch and lowered himself inside. The fire trucks were finally moving, but the flames were still rising. He pulled the emergency release lever and dragged the other man out of the control center in an awkward fireman's carry. 

He balanced against the Big O's hand and quickly tapped out a sequence on the remote. The wrist rotated and the hand opened, and Roger dragged Fleming on to it. "Up!" he hit the remote. He could hear a dangerous pinging sound coming from the area of the fire. Although the Flying Duo had run out of fuel, it was likely that there were more than enough vapors in the tank to make an impressive fireball. As Big O's hand lifted them, Roger entered the command to turn and move away. Once they had a bit of distance, Roger looked around for the ambulance. He stood and waved at the driver to stop where he was.

Fleming was starting to stir a little as Roger directed the Big O towards the other side of the field and the waiting medics. "What the hell happened?" the other pilot asked groggily.

"My guess is that you lost a fuel line," Roger told him. "Hold still, I don't know how badly you're hurt." 

"I'm fine," Fleming told him, sitting up slowly. "I think I bit my tongue." An explosion sounded behind them and he tried to struggle to his feet. "Flying Duo!" 

"Get down!" Roger dragged him back to a sitting position. "Do you want me to mess up and dump both of us? This isn't very easy!" He breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the ambulance. Lowering the Megadeus' hand, he helped the other man to the stretcher.

"It's not too bad," he told Fleming, looking over to the fallen Megadeus. "They've got it under control now. Looks like all it will cost you is some wiring and a new rocket tank."

Fleming sat up on the stretcher, ignoring the protest from the medics. "Thanks, buddy," he extended his hand. "Good match."

Suddenly they were surrounded by people and the snapping sounds and flashes of pictures being taken. "Is Fleming going to be okay? How did you know it was going to explode? Weren't you afraid?" A babble of voices surrounded them. 

Roger looked to the medic, who gave him a thumbs up. "He's going to be fine, he's just shaken up a little. I saw the fire start because I was right there on top of it and I didn't want to take any chances. No, I wasn't afraid, there was plenty of time," he fended off the reporters. "I have to get Big O back to the bays, and Mr. Fleming needs to go to the hospital," he told them. "I'm sure you can get a statement from the officials a little later, let's let these guys do their job." He rapidly climbed the rungs to the control center, breathing a sigh of relief when he was safely inside.

"Can you get the truck out here safely?" he radioed his crew. "I used the last of my reserves getting Fleming to the ambulance."

"Yeah, it looks like everything is under control out there," Cooper responded almost immediately. "I'm on it. Nice match, by the way!"

A beeping sounded from a distance. Roger looked around for a minute and finally spotted his headphones on the floor. He put them back on. "...Rosewater, please respond." He switched to the private channel and keyed his mike. "Rosewater here, sorry."

"How quickly can your crew get you fueled? On us, of course, but we could use some help out here." It was one of the match officials. Roger looked out to see the truck had almost reached him. 

"Within 10 minutes, is that soon enough?" he asked. 

"Perfect," came the response. "Stay on this frequency to coordinate." Roger tapped his fingers impatiently as the crew got the Big O refueled. Finally the truck pulled away and he returned to the damaged megadeus. Two of the other competitors, probably the ones whose match was after his, were there waiting.

With a great deal of good-natured heckling, the three managed to safely lift the Flying Duo to the carrier. "That's a tough act to follow," Gold joked. "Beck Victory Deluxe and I are going to have to work at it!"

Roger chuckled. "You're an artist, I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"But you keep stealing the show!" the other pilot broke in, pretending to whine. "I saw that gorgeous woman of yours waiting for you in the private box. Leave some ladies for us, Rosewater!"

"So many babes, so little time," he mocked. "Nice working with you guys. I don't know if we'll get to second elimination today, but undoubtedly I'll see one of you soon!" He was relieved to finally get the Megadeus parked in the bays. He stole some sandwiches from the crew's mini refrigerator and went to check on Dorothy.

"That was wonderful!" the android greeted him, throwing her arms around him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Roger cringed as he heard the pop of a flash. 

"The hero gets his just reward!" came a familiar voice. 

"Come on, Dan, let me get some lunch," Roger growled. "That's enough, Dorothy." He kept the comment low so the reporter wouldn't hear. Neither noticed her sudden stillness, and it passed in an instant.

"Tell you what. I will on the condition that you promise to give me an interview later," the other man told him.

"Okay, okay," Roger knew when he was beaten. "But if you don't mind, I'd really like to just sit still for a while!"

"Here's my cell number, just call me when you're ready," the reporter handed him a card. He sauntered off, whistling. 

Roger followed him and locked the door behind him to prevent any further interruptions and gratefully sank down into a chair. "That was an excellent match, Roger. Your timing was impeccable," Dorothy sat down beside him.

"Thanks," he muttered through a mouthful of sandwich. They sat in silence while he ate and watched the cleanup crews preparing the field so the tournament could continue. "I don't know if there will be another match for us today," he told her. "The fire really delayed everything."

"What will they do?" she asked.

"Well, the third round is scheduled for next month, we were supposed to finish the second round today, so I expect that they will try to do a couple of afternoon matches before then," he told her. 

"I would like to go to see them," she said.

"Sure, maybe Alex will take you if I don't have to be there," he said noncommittally.

"I would prefer it if you brought me," Dorothy said seriously. "I have begun to analyze your opponents."

Roger raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" he said. "Okay, as long as I'm free, I'll bring you."

"Thank you," she said. "Tell me, how much more fuel do you use when you go into overdrive?" He was a little surprised at how easily she could draw him into conversation, but her thoughts turned out to be worth listening to. Her analyses of the strengths and weaknesses of the other megadeuses as they watched the rest of the matches were accurate and very much to the point. 

She seemed very interested in the fuel limits. He explained that for safety reasons, the pilots were only allowed to carry a specific amount of fuel, about fifteen minute's worth for an average megadeus. Good strategy included getting the maximum out of the available supplies, and Roger had won a number of battles by causing the other pilot to run out, leaving the opposition helpless and unable to move. The mechanics were always trying to find ways to push the envelope, but to the best of his knowledge, the longest a match had ever lasted was 21 minutes.

True to his prediction, the sun was setting and the competitors had not yet finished the first round. Roger could not remember the last time he had had as much fun sitting there on the sidelines, unless of course he counted the times when he was too young to pilot and he was watching with his grandfather. Usually he paced like a caged tiger and tried to find something to do with himself while he waited for the next battle.

"You promised an interview to that reporter," Dorothy reminded him as the final match finished and they walked back to the bays. "While you talk to him, would you allow me to go inside Big O's control room?"

"As long as you don't power him up," Roger answered absently, looking for the business card. He found it and brought out his own cell phone, calling the reporter and arranging for them to meet in fifteen minutes at the bays.

"I'd like to check out the control system, you need power for that, don't you?" she said. "I don't need to operate him, though."

"All right." Roger normally didn't let anyone other than Norman into the Big O, but he didn't think she would do any real harm, and it would keep the reporter from asking awkward questions about her. They climbed the portable stairway to the control room and he powered up the Megadeus. "Big O, meet Dorothy," he said as he tapped in some commands on the keyboard. "Dorothy, meet Big O." The megadeus' eyes lit up and a quiet humming sound filled the room.

"This will only take a minute," Roger told her, and dug out a strange looking cap with wires attached that led to one of the control panels. "Take your hat off for a second." When she did so, he put the cap on her head and typed some more.

"R. Dorothy Wayneright, second pilot," she read over his shoulder.

"It will scan you and keep your identity on file," he explained. "You need that level of access to be able to check out the things I think you are interested in. Don't try to move him until I have a chance to teach you how. Do you understand?" He spoke the programming command firmly and removed the cap, stowing it away where it belonged..

"Yes, I understand," she answered, sounding almost preoccupied. "Thank you, Roger." She moved to the keyboard and began calling up information.

Roger had just enough time to check on Fleming's condition--a very mild concussion and a badly bitten tongue--when the reporter arrived. With the ease of long practice, he managed to avoid the questions he didn't want to answer while still giving enough information that the other didn't feel cheated.  It was a relief when the interview was finally over, though. Dan Dastun knew him well enough that evasion was more difficult than it would be with another reporter.

Almost on cue, as Dan left, Dorothy powered down the Megadeus and came down the stairs. "Are you ready to leave?" she asked.

"More than ready. Let's go!" He was glad the tournament was over--he was getting hungry again.

Next Page >< Previous Page