Fog Bastards 1 Intention by Bill Robinson
Authors: Bill Robinson
Tags: Science-Fiction, adventure, Literature & Fiction, Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Paranormal & Urban, Superhero, Superheroes
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feet.
I don't think I'm any better at the rock toss than I used to be, but it doesn't matter. I don't stay long before heading down the rail road tracks, pausing at Magic Mountain to enter its coordinates into the GPS, and then turning and playing through the mountains and canyons. I try something new tonight, staying north and hitting the ocean well out into the farm lands, then turning and burning barely above the Pacific all the way home.
Disneyland is quiet beneath me, only a few folks out cleaning, when I return. My bag is undisturbed, and actually not too poopy. I change back into me, and then into my clothes, before heading for Starbuck and home. I have to be at the airport and headed to Kona in a few hours, and I need to come up with a new training regime for the islands that will not get me on video.
Boring flight to paradise, especially for a man crossing the 1,000 days to live mark. Miss Mankat was out, so none of the "usual witty repartee," then five hours of Matt talking about what he was planning to do to her now that she had agreed to have dinner with him.
All seven of us, the five flight attendants, Matt, and I, go snorkeling, which, besides being relaxing, gives me an idea for my overnight adventures. After, we shower, change (clothes not faces), eat shrimp by the ocean and wander together around Kona town.
They all go to bed, and I become him. Put on the swim trunks, but not the t shirt, slink out of my room, across the hotel lobby, down to the water's edge and slide in. Lots of molecules by my feet, I push as gently as I can. It works. I am a torpedo, a dolphin, a tuna. Like them, my species is certainly endangered.
I cruise out from the coast, which drops off quickly on the big island. It's dark down there, but I go anyway. I don't stay long. No infrared vision, or super special powers that let me see shit down here. It's just dark. So back up nearer to the surface, which is still pretty dark. It's night, and under water, and I still thought I was going to be able to see. World's stupidest superhero, film at 11.
Idiocy confirmed, I abandon all thought and head north by north west (roughly toward Japan), but at a nice slow submarine like speed. Given my history with high speed travel, I don't want to leave any dead whales or dolphins in my path. Pele hates me, I don't need to get Kanaloa, the ocean god, pissed too.
I cruise for what seems like an hour, but I can't be sure because at least I was smart enough not to wear my watch underwater. I do not need air, so no idea how long I can hold my breath, but hours certainly.
Grab a toeful of molecules, and I shove really hard, breaking the water's surface maybe 10 miles off the Kohala coast. Leveling off at 20 feet above sea level, I rocket up to near the speed of sound. No speedometer, but I have learned my lesson and slow as soon as I feel the air pressure change as I near that barrier.
I make a big loop around Molokai and the north shore of Oahu before rocketing back to the Big Island. I turn inland, buzz a group of burros, and climb to a couple hundred feet, slowing down to bird speed. Hopefully, I will look avian to the airport radar.
Into town, the view is cool, and I land carefully on the roof of my hotel. Probably another chance I shouldn't have taken, but I'm feeling adventuresome. The light is pleased with me.
I take what I mean to be one last look at the ocean, only there's a heavy duty light down by the shore, about where I went in. A boat is gliding quietly around off shore, using a searchlight on the water surface, and there's a Dodge SUV with a small blue light on its roof parked next to the rocks. On Hawai'i, most of the police drive their own cars, with a little blue light stuck on top when they are on duty.
I have a bad thought. Quickly shifting back to me, I run down to my room, get dressed and play the curious tourist out for a late night -
I don't think I'm any better at the rock toss than I used to be, but it doesn't matter. I don't stay long before heading down the rail road tracks, pausing at Magic Mountain to enter its coordinates into the GPS, and then turning and playing through the mountains and canyons. I try something new tonight, staying north and hitting the ocean well out into the farm lands, then turning and burning barely above the Pacific all the way home.
Disneyland is quiet beneath me, only a few folks out cleaning, when I return. My bag is undisturbed, and actually not too poopy. I change back into me, and then into my clothes, before heading for Starbuck and home. I have to be at the airport and headed to Kona in a few hours, and I need to come up with a new training regime for the islands that will not get me on video.
Boring flight to paradise, especially for a man crossing the 1,000 days to live mark. Miss Mankat was out, so none of the "usual witty repartee," then five hours of Matt talking about what he was planning to do to her now that she had agreed to have dinner with him.
All seven of us, the five flight attendants, Matt, and I, go snorkeling, which, besides being relaxing, gives me an idea for my overnight adventures. After, we shower, change (clothes not faces), eat shrimp by the ocean and wander together around Kona town.
They all go to bed, and I become him. Put on the swim trunks, but not the t shirt, slink out of my room, across the hotel lobby, down to the water's edge and slide in. Lots of molecules by my feet, I push as gently as I can. It works. I am a torpedo, a dolphin, a tuna. Like them, my species is certainly endangered.
I cruise out from the coast, which drops off quickly on the big island. It's dark down there, but I go anyway. I don't stay long. No infrared vision, or super special powers that let me see shit down here. It's just dark. So back up nearer to the surface, which is still pretty dark. It's night, and under water, and I still thought I was going to be able to see. World's stupidest superhero, film at 11.
Idiocy confirmed, I abandon all thought and head north by north west (roughly toward Japan), but at a nice slow submarine like speed. Given my history with high speed travel, I don't want to leave any dead whales or dolphins in my path. Pele hates me, I don't need to get Kanaloa, the ocean god, pissed too.
I cruise for what seems like an hour, but I can't be sure because at least I was smart enough not to wear my watch underwater. I do not need air, so no idea how long I can hold my breath, but hours certainly.
Grab a toeful of molecules, and I shove really hard, breaking the water's surface maybe 10 miles off the Kohala coast. Leveling off at 20 feet above sea level, I rocket up to near the speed of sound. No speedometer, but I have learned my lesson and slow as soon as I feel the air pressure change as I near that barrier.
I make a big loop around Molokai and the north shore of Oahu before rocketing back to the Big Island. I turn inland, buzz a group of burros, and climb to a couple hundred feet, slowing down to bird speed. Hopefully, I will look avian to the airport radar.
Into town, the view is cool, and I land carefully on the roof of my hotel. Probably another chance I shouldn't have taken, but I'm feeling adventuresome. The light is pleased with me.
I take what I mean to be one last look at the ocean, only there's a heavy duty light down by the shore, about where I went in. A boat is gliding quietly around off shore, using a searchlight on the water surface, and there's a Dodge SUV with a small blue light on its roof parked next to the rocks. On Hawai'i, most of the police drive their own cars, with a little blue light stuck on top when they are on duty.
I have a bad thought. Quickly shifting back to me, I run down to my room, get dressed and play the curious tourist out for a late night -
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