Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Driving Lesson Chapter 2 Page 2

The tall woman picked him up and carried him into the garage. She had to use both hands that time since she was not in a power armor - she wore regular personal armor instead.

George was brought straight into the room at the back, where he knew personal weapons and armor were stored. The Vixens were going to provide him with armor. Hopefully, with proper armor that time around. Not female armor like in his previous adventure.

There was another armored woman waiting in the armory at the back. She was of average height, which made her taller than George. Without her helmet, the boy could see that she had her brown hair tied into a bun. It was Mabel.

And George was in luck. There was a new set of regular armor for him, one that was the proper shape for a man. It came complete with helmet and mask, breastplate and backplate, pieces of armor for limbs and joints, gauntlets and armored boots too. And it fit his small frame.

Mabel had a jolly happy time slapping the armor onto George. Once she was done, Tricia carried him out to the main work area.

Being handled and moved around, George felt like he was a piece of cargo. Or a mannequin.

Sitting at the front of the work area was an armored pickup, which George assumed was their ride for the day. The pickup was different from those that George was familiar with. The general shape was the same. However, it had an open cab with four seats for passengers, and it had two pairs of large wheels. Under the hood in front, it had an oversized combustion engine, unlike those in the city that ran on electric motors.

There were several lockers in the cargo space in the back. Installed between the two back seats and dividing the cargo area was a tall narrow box with a lid on top. It appeared that there was machinery to open the lid on its own.

George could not guess at the function of that box. Perhaps it was a more secure storage for cargo.

There were roll bars around the passenger area. Plates of armor had been attached all over the vehicle though the top was noticeably bare. Nicks and dents on the armor showed that the pickup had seen some rough use. In fact, one of the lights on the roll bar above the passenger seats looked like it was slightly out of alignment.

George was dropped into the front passenger seat. Tricia took the driver's seat while Mabel sat at the back. Shortly after, they were off to face the fearsome creation of man that guarded the land exit out of Covenant: paperwork.

"This would go quicker if you did this," Mabel grumbled in the back seat as she filled out a form on a datapad. It appeared that they would be stuck at the city gates for a while.

"It's your turn," Tricia said, "Hey, that form doesn't mention anything about declaring vegetables, does it?"

"Don't be silly, I wouldn't... Argh, I've been filling the wrong form!" Mabel stabbed a finger at the back of Tricia's head. "This is why you should be filling the forms!"

Tricia chuckled. She turned to George. "Hey, Squirt, take one of these." She pulled a narrow length of hose out from between the front seats.

George pulled out another tube. He noted that the other end was attached to a device of some kind. With his view of the device blocked by the seats, he could not guess at its function. "What's this for?"

Tricia plugged the hose into a socket at her side, beneath her armor. "To keep you cool out there. Remember to disconnect it before jumping out."

Earlier, George had been puzzled when Mabel put a strange vest on him, one that had many tubes. It was worn underneath his breastplate and backplate. The temperatures in the wasteland were known to be unbearably high and their vehicle did not have an enclosed cockpit. When exposed to the elements, the vest would help keep him cool.

Tricia slid aside the armor under her left arm to reveal her wristcom. "Now we need to hooked you up to the vehicle's computer."

George also uncovered his wristcom. Following Tricia's instructions, he downloaded applications to connect to the vehicle's onboard computer and to his mask. When he activated the applications, data appeared on the Helmet Mounted Display (HMD) within his mask. He recognized a compass heading, a speedometer and an altimeter.

There was a pause as Mabel continued filling forms. "Don't you need a power armor out there?" George asked the tall Vixen.

"I don't think I'll need one today," Tricia replied, "We're not expecting serious combat. Besides, a power armor is hardly useful in a moving vehicle. And it's bulky and heavy and synthetic fuel isn't cheap."

George considered her explanation. The extra weight of a power armor would mean that the pickup would require more fuel to move. There was already the weight of the armor plates attached to the vehicle. That also explained why the top had no armor.

He looked about the vehicle. Since he had realized the significance of weight, he saw that the pickup had been modified to be as light as possible. Their seats were mere skeletal frames with the thinnest of padding. There were actually gaps at his feet where George could see the roadway beneath.

Eventually, Mabel was done with the forms. Once the paperwork had been processed, they were cleared for departure. Tricia took them out the city gates onto the ramp beyond. She accelerated down the ramp and onto the sandy ground.

George had heard from Mabel that the sandy ground had once been a highway of the old city on which Covenant had been built. All around him, he could see the base supports and foundations of buildings that had once been part of that old city.

There were other vehicles on the broad sandy thoroughfare. There were transport trucks, dune buggies, other pickups and the occasional tank. Most of them were in orderly groups. More than half of them were heading away from Covenant.

Tricia sped the Vixen pickup past convoys of other vehicles. Their speed eventually took them past the old city limits and out into the open wasteland where the sand stretched as far as George could see.

He checked that his breathing mask and his cooling vest were working fine.

***


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