Chapter 3: Crash Plain

The strange black mask they had given him had no holes for eyes, nose, or mouth but, it was transparent nonetheless. At least from the inside. Terry stared harder into the mirror trying to see through the black mask. He had been promised that the mask was proof against all forms of technological or mystic attempts to view the wearer. It certainly seemed that the RMF had enough brainy people on hand to invent stuff like this but it seemed just a little "sci-fi" to Terry. He had already donned the rest of the costume he had been supplied for the testing phase of the tryouts. He was wearing a black bodysuit with a large white letter "J" on the chest and black gloves with some kind of no-slip coating. The suit was made of an uncomfortable but nearly indestructible material known as metaweave. Terry made a mental note to ask for an under layer for the rest of the test period. He had heard of the wondrous material of course, all the fashionable heroes were wearing it this year. According to fellow hero fan chat room members it was believed to be resistant to penetration by anything less than a .50 caliber bullet. It also could be "programmed" to resist a hero's own powers, although how it does such a thing was beyond the average comic geek.

He looked around at the small room he would occupy for the duration of the testing. Terry wondered if the other candidates had similar rooms. Having been deployed on an aircraft carrier, he had been assigned much smaller quarters in the past.

The knock at the door for which he had been waiting this past hour had finally come. Terry stood, quickly checked the mask in the mirror again, and opened the door.

"Hello Candidate J." said the small man at his door. "My name is George, and I'll be your helper and guide for the test phase."

"Hello George." Terry said extending his hand. if you're gonna be my sidekick why didn't they give you a suit too?" His voice seemed strange because of the voice disguiser on the mask, a small black nickel sized disk situated over the wearer's voice box. So that's what the little button thingy does, he thought.

The look of shock and surprise on George's face was priceless. "Uh, sir I'm not, I mean, uh..."

"Kidding George, just kidding. Lead on." he stepped into the hallway.

"Oh, of course sir." George said too nervously.

He led Terry down a hallway into a maze of corridors. Terry was possessed of an excellent sense of direction, and was quite certain his guide had doubled back on himself at least twice when they stopped for George to check a set of instructions he carried on a clipboard.

"Just a little further." He said in a tone clearly meant to be reassuring.

Terry was in no particular hurry. "If you would like a hand with those instructions, I'm pretty good with maps, see I used to be..."

"No, no please don't tell me anything about your background sir," George pleaded, "I'm not supposed to know anything about you or any other candidate."

"Fair enough," allowed Terry, "but in case you are lost, the room I was just in is right down there." Terry pointed down the hallway to his left.

George looked like he had failed an important task. "I'm sorry sir, George said, "I'm just very nervous about these tests."

"Is this your first time?" Terry asked.

"No sir I was involved with the last tests in '88, both runs."

"Both?" asked Terry, "do you mean two phases or two tests?"

"There were two tests in '88 sir, none of the first group made it." George gave what looked like it was supposed to be a reassuring smile.

Terry decided against asking if there were two tests because no one survived the testing. Poor George already looked like he thought he might not survive the testing himself. He did recall that 1988 was the year without a Rocket Man, something which had never happened before. The long delay between the third and fourth Rocket Man had caused some great deal of speculation that the entire program was a wash. Julie's obvious obsession with finding a good candidate and hitting the ground running could be understood. If there was yet another long pause in the program it could cause the public to lose confidence, and donations would suffer. The generosity of the public had waned dramatically in the twenty months it took to get up and running again in '89.

After some turns not taken before the pair came to a large hangar that housed a sleek looking aircraft that was being loaded with a good deal of equipment by a rear cargo ramp. Terry didn't recognize the type of aircraft as it did not quite match any he had seen before, but it appeared to have been a very modified wide body passenger liner. The engines were strange looking, enough so that he wasn't sure they were even jet engines. He looked around the building noticing that there weren't any hangar doors on any of the walls, looking up he saw that the roof was retractable like some big league stadiums.

Other men dressed as he was with different letters on their chests were standing next to people who must have been their "sidekicks". All of the "men of letters" as Terry considered himself to be, were spaced far enough apart to make it obvious that the distance was intentional. Terry sized up the competition. A man about 5'10" or so but muscled like an olympic weightlifter was to Terry's left. The human gorilla had the letter K on his suit, over which his arms were crossed. He seemed to be not interested in the least with anyone or anything going on in the busy hanger. Gorilla man stared straight ahead at nothing. "Psyching out his opponents" Terry said to no one in particular. George looked at him curiously but Terry waved by way of explanation.

Candidate I was just the opposite, both because he was looking at everyone and everything, and because he was tall and lanky, Terry doubted he could lift a metal suit, he would need to use the rockets just to walk.

Mr. L was a cool customer his easy stance could only be confused for a lack of preparation to move by someone who was about to get kicked in the face. He was neither tall nor short but well developed enough not to stand out either. "If that guy's not a special forces soldier I'll eat my hat." Terry told George who looked worried to know even guesses about the candidates.

M stood with the patience that spoke of experience waiting. Terry considered there to be a large possibility that this guy was former military too. His impassive stance could only be duplicated after years of training in the hurry up and wait culture of government work.

A crew member made a signal to the helpers who began to lead the candidates on the plane, starting with Mr. K. Terry thought the "K" was for kong.

As the candidates filed onto the aircraft, Julie checked her ever present clipboard for the talking points for the in flight briefing. At least she was pretending to do so. She was actually watching the interaction, or lack thereof, between the candidates and their handlers. She was aware that amongst the technicians on the flight today would be several Behavior Analysts. The mental and emotional health of all prospective members of the various super-teams was scrutinized closely before any real training would begin. In the case of Rocket Man, they had the additional advantage of choosing the candidate before training would begin.

She looked on as the first candidate, K, boarded the aircraft. Candidate K moved to the bottom of the boarding stair and briskly took the steps three or four at a time. "Type A" personality, Julie thought, Overly aggressive. His name was Matthew Clayton, or "Mad Matt" to his fans. A professional wrestler, race car driver, and adrenalin junkie. This would never be the man to lead the Young Champions, much less the Champions Club. She could, or would, not interfere with this man's chances at qualification. She did not believe there was any need, at any rate, as his lack of caution would be his undoing in Julie's estimation.

Nor would she need to in any way bias the results of Candidate I. His thin frame and clear nervousness marked him as Daniel Harrison, the engineer chosen by the committee members who had trumped Julie's protests. They believed that the complex nature of the new systems would require an operator with a sophisticated understanding of machinery. She was simultaneously angry and sad to be reminded of Travis Winter, the recently departed Rocket Man, himself an engineer and amatuer scientist. She had spent many hours trying to explain the workings of the last project to Travis, who although intelligent, was not nearly exceptional enough to understand the technology of the RM4 project. It had been decades ahead of it's time. The RM5 project was probably at least a century ahead of the curve. The intensity of the new equipment coupled with the physical demands placed on the candidates would surely eliminate Harrison from the competition.

Candidate L was Arthur Wenton, a First Class Petty Officer in the U.S. Navy, was a member of the ultra black DEVGRU erroneously known as SEAL Team Six. Although deadly in a fight with more pedestrian weapons, he had never fought at the speed of sound while maintaining ground separation. No need for her intercession here.

Candidate "M" was an entirely different matter. Lt. Col. Geoff West was an Astronaut. He held degrees in psychology and thermodynamics. He was a certified genius (IQ of 158) and a son of a U.S. senator. He was gifted, even talented but not passionate. Col. West was a natural achiever and rarely inspired anyone she had spoken to in the interviews.