Bug Park by James P. Hogan

“How was that for navigation?” Kevin said. “Right down at your feet. Let’s see you match that.”

“Huh. Doesn’t look too difficult.”

“Wait till you try it.”

“A good slingshotter is what it takes—to send you up right in the first place.”

Kevin and Avril reached the area by the water where the trees opened out, in front of the boat dock. Corfe had already repacked the chute and was securing it to the mec with a new rubber band.

Ray shook his head in amazement. “Well, I don’t know. If that ain’t the darnedest thing I’ve seen in years. And did it seem like you were really there inside that thing?” he asked Avril.

“It was unbelievable,” she told him. “It’s just like you are it. And that was only receiving the visual. I can’t wait to try driving one.”

“One thing at a time,” Kevin said.

“Gotta have a try at this myself,” Ray said.

“You will,” Corfe promised him. A beep sounded in his shirt pocket. He fished out his phone. “Yuh? . . . We are, just about.” He looked over at Kevin. “They’re ready up at the house. Do you want to shoot it this time?”

“Sure.” Kevin took the compressed pack of mec and chute, and held it up in front of his face.

“Taki and Janna are coupled through,” Corfe announced, looking away from the phone.

Kevin leered at the mec. “Aha, I’ve got you in my clutches now, Taki. About that two dollars you still owe me, eh?” He tossed the mec up in the air, spinning it deliberately, and caught it again. A squeal that could only be Janna’s floated down from an open window in the house.

“Here.” Ray held out the slingshot. Kevin took it, placed the mec in the sling, and aimed high.

“Get set, guys,” Corfe said into the phone. “Hold onto your hats. Three. . . . Two. . . . One. . . . Fire!”

It might have been some perspiration on the grip that caused it to twist in Kevin’s hand; or maybe his concentration just slipped a little. . . . But he could feel the slingshot slew to the side as he let go. Sunlight glinted off metal climbing high above the trees—but it was wide of where he had meant it to go. The wait was excruciating. . . . Finally the puff of white blossomed high above and began drifting serenely back to earth. Once again, it had opened perfectly—but this time out over the water.

“Dang, I don’t reckon he’s gonna be able to do much about it,” Ray muttered. “The wind’s the wrong way.”

“Taki doesn’t sound too appreciative, Kev,” Corfe said, looking up from the phone.

They watched helplessly as the chute descended. Then it caught on the end of a pine branch hanging out over the water. And there, it hung.

“Decidedly niftless,” Kevin opined glumly.

Eric, Taki, and Janna came down from the house a few minutes later to survey the situation.

Taki talked about climbing the tree, but it was obvious that the branch would never support him all the way out to its extremity. Kevin wondered what there was that they could maybe lash together to make a long enough pole. Corfe suggested that they take the boys’ boat out underneath the branch, where they could use a shorter pole. And then Eric had one of his brainwaves. “We don’t need to mess around making poles at all,” he said. “Taki might not be able to climb out to it. But Ironside could.”

Corfe, Kevin, and Taki looked at each other. “Of course,” Kevin said.

“It just might work, at that,” Corfe agreed.

“I still get to do the climbing,” Taki told them, getting his claim in right away.

“Who the hell is Ironside?” Ray asked everybody.

Eric answered. “One of the early Neurodyne prototypes. More of a DNC test-bed—before we started miniaturizing them. It would be big enough to carry the other mec that’s stuck up there and bring it down.”

Corfe, standing fists on hips, squinting against the sun, looked up at the tree limb again, then down at the water below. “You know, it mightn’t be a bad idea to have the boat underneath, anyway,” he said to Eric. “That branch is going to sag more. If Ironside comes adrift from it, we’d stand to lose both of them.”

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