Jo-el

Chapter 23 MEDIA FRENZY

The storm in the south of California had petered out by the morning, moving on to Arizona. The region returned to its usual glorious sunny weather. In San Francisco, the day started out misty and cold, with rain threatened for later. I was in the kitchen drinking coffee, reviewing events on my heads-up display. Before going to bed Gabby had posted the video on Facebook she’d snapped of me and her friends landing at the Best Western, but she was still asleep. She hadn’t yet seen the firestorm that she had brought down on herself. Twelve news vans were headed for Palm Springs, discovering her location from re-postings of her video by friends from her home in Indiana. The FBI were also on their way to interview the three hikers. It was going to be an interesting day for Gabby and her friends. But what could they say in truth? A man with wings, called Jo-el had rescued them from freezing to death on Mt. San Jacinto. That was about it. And would the media and public believe them? Who knew?

The independent reporter in Providenciales had sold his story to USA Today. It basically said that every single person he’d interviewed had sworn that the birdman was not a hoax. The beach where the rescue had been recorded was rated as one of the most beautiful in the world and the cost of staying on the Island was not inexpensive. Many of those interviewed were from wealthier backgrounds which added potency to their claim.

I had a small TV in the kitchen that I’d tuned to one of the morning news shows and they had mentioned both the sea rescue in Turks and Caicos and the recent nighttime rescue in Southern California. But they had nothing else, so they didn’t elaborate much. One comment had been, assuming just one birdman, he’d flown from the Caribbean to California in what was less than twelve hours. Obviously possible by commercial jet but unlikely by what they were calling ‘bird-speed’. They had pointed out that the fastest bird, a Swift, could reach over one hundred miles an hour, but only for short bursts. Most commentators were still highly suspicious of the existence of this flying man and many were saying that if he did exist why didn’t he come forward and speak to the media. It was a fun news item that amused the talking-heads but was not being given much certitude.

I considered my situation and wrestled with seeking out another rescue so soon. To be honest I didn’t know what I should do. It didn’t seem a bad idea to take my time over breakfast. My housekeeper was due in at eleven that morning, so I planned to be out of the house by at least ten thirty. She preferred it when I wasn’t there, which suited me. I was feeling great; no doubt the effects of the pills Sally had prescribed. My usual nagging lower back ache had completely disappeared. My energy level was as good as I could remember and when I looked in the mirror, as Dave, I reckoned I looked ten years younger. Sweet!

At a little after ten that morning I was enjoying a brief ray of sunshine in Golden Gate Park, when Sally interrupted my peace.

“There’s a fire in an apartment block in Shanghai.”

“Show me!” The image of a high-rise in a busy neighborhood, with flames licking the sides about three stories from the top appeared in front of me. It was nighttime. “People in danger?”

“About twelve are above the fire line. Three kids,” she added. “Ladders won’t reach.” I could see three fire-engine ladders ending well below the fire line, fire-men squirting water up as best they were able.

I sat watching the action on the heads-up. This was a major step for me, I couldn’t rescue everyone in danger around the world single handed, just as I couldn’t stop all the rapes. I needed publicity to be taken seriously about the pending catastrophe threatening the planet. That was my goal. If I rescued these poor people, I would have to explain how I was able to get there. The flight time to China was more than the eight hours that had elapsed since Mt. San Jacinto. Then Sally showed me the face of a little Chinese girl, crying in the arms of her mother. They were trapped in the apartment. That did it. Mr. Softy.

There was a bathroom close to my bench. I sought the privacy, changed into Jo-el and bounced to a point about two thousand feet above the apartment. No one could see me appear out of nowhere in the darkness at that height.

Sally directed me to a window away from where most of the stranded people were hiding from the flames. She covered me head to toe in the smart-suit, leaving the face part transparent. Sally smashed the window and I went into the burning building. It was hot and smoke was everywhere but breathing wasn’t a problem. Eight of the twelve people trapped were in the next room. How would they react when they saw me? Had they seen anything about the other two rescues? I didn’t have time to worry about it. I crossed a stairwell and went in.

The faces I saw resembled the kids on the mountain and Marianne. Fear emblazoned in their eyes, their impulse to back away. I stood my ground and said in English “I will take you to safety.” It came out in Shanghainese. The faces showed more calm, but they pressed back away from me when I took a step in their direction. Then the same thing happened as on the mountain and a young girl, maybe sixteen, stepped forward toward me. She stopped and waited for my reaction, so I beckoned her to come to the window near to where I was standing. I backed up to the window and forced it open. No double pane glass here. It was small but large enough for one person to go through. I stepped onto an outside ledge, holding onto the side with one hand as I beckoned for her to join me. She hesitated for a while then slowly inched closer. Even when she was within reach I didn’t grab at her. I needed her to show the others that it was their decision. This winged man was on their side.

After a few moments that felt much longer she was standing right next to the window, still inside the room. Carefully I reached with my free arm and wrapped it around her waist. She clambered out of the window and I let go of the side. She screamed and closed her eyes tightly, but in ten or so seconds we were on the ground and I’d let her go. The crowd that had amassed to watch the fire gasped when they saw me and screamed when I landed so close to them. A fire-engine was by the street, which was cordoned off. I left the girl there, with a smile and flew back up to the window.

It went very easy after that, the people still in the building had watched me land. The flames and dense smoke was around the other side of the building and hadn’t impeded their view. I found the other four people on a higher floor and took them to safety. By the second trip down, cellphone cameras were pointed at us from everywhere. I also noticed a TV film crew, who were feeding real time coverage of the fire. This would be around the globe in seconds.

On the ground for the last time I saw one of the children I’d rescued crying. She looked about four years old and had been held by her mother as we flew down from the open window. She was shouting at her mother who was also crying. Sally translated what she was saying.

“Pisu, I want Pisu, where’s Pisu?”

“What’s she talking about, Sally?”

“It’s her kitten, still in the building.”

“I’ve got to rescue a cat?”

“Your choice, Joey,” that name, why does she do that?

“Is it still alive?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Okay, direct me to the bloody thing.”

“Don’t you like cats, Joey?”

“No, not particularly.”

I found the kitten, cute little brown and white thing and flew down to the pavement with it in my hand, meowing at eighty decibels. I handed it to the little girl, who immediately stopped crying and gave me the most beautiful grin, her little round face like a Chinese doll. The cameras went nuts. Oh, was I glad I rescued that kitten, front page stuff, Time Magazine front page stuff. The money shot.

Back in the park, the wind blowing cold from the west as usual, the clouds building with rain, I asked Sally for an update.

“Every news network in America is showing the Chinese TV footage of the fire in Shanghai.”

“What are they saying about me?”

“That there must be two of you, or maybe more.”

“That figures.”

“There’s total confusion. A lot of fear. Someone even speculated about invasion from another world. But it only just happened so it’s all guess work.”

“What about the internet?”

“Same thing. But there’s a problem, someone posted a copy of the TV footage on YouTube and part of the internet in Canada just went down, overload.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I think the whole internet in the US will seize up shortly.”

“What’s being done about it?”

“Google are relaying from other countries with less traffic. Countries where it’s nighttime. There’s a lot of Alien Cult and UFO religion supporters posting on Twitter. Interest is souring.”

“Never heard of them.”

“They’ve been around since the 1930’s. The Aetherius Society is a religion that believes in extra-terrestrials. Do you remember hearing about the Roswell incident in 1947?”

“Oh, right. I thought it was a balloon that crashed.”

“We had a base station close by. The US tested the first A-bomb not too far from there in 1945. Trinity.”

“Are you saying it was you?”

“Probably, yes. One of the robots was trying to move the station.”

“Jeez! The A-bomb test damaged your base-station and you tried to move it two years later. How many robots have you got on earth?”

“Just two now.”

“How many did you have?”

“We had six, the other four malfunctioned and we don’t have the parts to fix them.”

“What do they do, the two that are left?”

“Maintain the network. It’s slowly crumbling, Cirion is too far away to help. Now there’s no point.”

“So is the network reliable? Isn’t that how I zip all over the place?”

“It’s okay.”

I wasn’t convinced. The bloody ship is sinking and now they tell me.

“What’s the market doing?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Dow’s down three hundred points.”

“Fear of the Unknown. The market doesn’t like stuff it doesn’t understand.” Knew I should have sold some shares and bought puts.

“What about Europe?” I asked.

“Same thing, but they feel further away. Most of the channels have suspended regular programs and are showing the footage and the pundits are saying whatever comes into their heads. You name it, someone is saying it.”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough, it’s almost twelve, I’m going to get something to eat. I want to hear about the network this afternoon. I’ll be back after Consuelo has finished cleaning.”

The heads-up disappeared and I headed out of the park to a Mexican restaurant I knew nearby. Carnitas tacos seemed like a great distraction.

There were TV’s in the restaurant, all tuned to CNN. The story of my escapade in Shanghai with the video of me carrying the people from the burning building was being shown over and over. The sound was turned down and the close caption feed was running along the bottom. I watched for a while but when the food arrived I was too distracted. By the time I finished eating the anchor woman said the video on YouTube had been removed from all servers due to overload. The internet was now the base for billion-dollar commerce and communication and the government couldn’t allow it to fail. Made sense to me.

I walked home feeling both frightened and exhilarated. I’d stirred up a hornet’s nest and I was the only person on the planet who knew what was happening. It was scary. Could I control the direction this would go; I wasn’t sure? As I entered my house the rain began to fall.