Read Online Black Onyx Duology by Victor Methos - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Victor Methos
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uses magnetism; I think that’s what powers it somehow.”
James shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Give me a week, James. Forget that, give me a couple days. Let me show you.”
“It’s half Henry’s and then you and I only have a third stake ownership each. They may not wish for us to keep it.”
“We’ll buy them out. They’ll be millionaires, what’ll they care.”
James exhaled. “The diamond mines of Zaire.”
“How long have we been saying we would go there? I’ll fly in, take as much as I can carry, and get out of there. It’s not like De Beers is going to miss it.”
James looked back to the suit. “We don’t know what it is, Dillon.”
He thought a moment and then stood up. “I’m going to the mainland. I’ll meet you there.”
“We’re over the ocean. Just be patient.”
Dillon walked to the suit. He stripped down to just his thermals and got inside. The suit instantly filled him with a calm euphoria. He looked up and began to drift. Pulling his arms close to his body, he sped over the ship and glanced down to the inky black ocean below. The Falklands weren’t far and he tilted forward and began heading in that direction. The wind flowed over him like the sea and he drifted upward to the low flying clouds and slowed as he went through them. He then shot up into the sky, gaining altitude so quickly he felt sick.
The ship was just a dot of light below him now. It was amazing how quickly he had lost all fear of this suit. It was almost as if the suit could sense his fear and calm him…sense his sadness and give him euphoria.
He propelled himself forward toward the mainland. Wanting to see just how fast the suit could go, he straightened himself like an arrow and concentrated.
The ocean below him was a blur. The land raced at him, moving so fast he was barely able to register what he saw.
He shot past the Falklands and continued over the sea. He turned north, having only a vague sense that he would hit South America eventually. He loved Rio de Janeiro; maybe he would take a quick stop there?
As he concentrated, emptying his mind and allowing the suit to guide him with its momentum, the speed only increased. He had to see where he was going using the periphery of his vision, much like speed-reading. Everything else was distorted and out of focus.
He flew until his back ached and his neck was throbbing from the strain. When he finally slowed, he was so far inland he could hardly see the ocean. He was hovering over a massive city, the lights sparkling as brightly underneath him as those in the sky. Coming in low, he could see a dance club with a line outside. He spotted a park nearby and landed among some trees. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, the suit was open. Stepping out, the warm weather was like a blanket around him, and he could smell the fresh scent of grass and trees.
He was wearing thermal pants and a Columbia collared shirt with Vibram shoes. Not the best outfit for fitting in, but not the worst either. The suit, he found earlier, was essentially immobile. It weighed probably upwards of two to three thousand pounds, James had guessed, and even with a winch and five men they couldn’t budge it. Dillon wasn’t worried about theft.
Walking across the park, he got to the main street and tried to look at the license plate s on the cars passing him. He was able to speak some Spanish and though the language on the plates was close, it wasn’t identical. It was Portuguese. He was in Brazil, though he couldn’t guess which city.
He walked across the street and found the club that he had eyed. The line was only ten or so deep and he waited. There was no cover charge and he knew the watered down alcohol was where they made their money.
The club was packed and the heavy bass of the music vibrated his feet. He walked to the bar, which was off to the side and a little quieter than the main floor. He sat and the bartender came to him.
“ O que posso fazer
James shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Give me a week, James. Forget that, give me a couple days. Let me show you.”
“It’s half Henry’s and then you and I only have a third stake ownership each. They may not wish for us to keep it.”
“We’ll buy them out. They’ll be millionaires, what’ll they care.”
James exhaled. “The diamond mines of Zaire.”
“How long have we been saying we would go there? I’ll fly in, take as much as I can carry, and get out of there. It’s not like De Beers is going to miss it.”
James looked back to the suit. “We don’t know what it is, Dillon.”
He thought a moment and then stood up. “I’m going to the mainland. I’ll meet you there.”
“We’re over the ocean. Just be patient.”
Dillon walked to the suit. He stripped down to just his thermals and got inside. The suit instantly filled him with a calm euphoria. He looked up and began to drift. Pulling his arms close to his body, he sped over the ship and glanced down to the inky black ocean below. The Falklands weren’t far and he tilted forward and began heading in that direction. The wind flowed over him like the sea and he drifted upward to the low flying clouds and slowed as he went through them. He then shot up into the sky, gaining altitude so quickly he felt sick.
The ship was just a dot of light below him now. It was amazing how quickly he had lost all fear of this suit. It was almost as if the suit could sense his fear and calm him…sense his sadness and give him euphoria.
He propelled himself forward toward the mainland. Wanting to see just how fast the suit could go, he straightened himself like an arrow and concentrated.
The ocean below him was a blur. The land raced at him, moving so fast he was barely able to register what he saw.
He shot past the Falklands and continued over the sea. He turned north, having only a vague sense that he would hit South America eventually. He loved Rio de Janeiro; maybe he would take a quick stop there?
As he concentrated, emptying his mind and allowing the suit to guide him with its momentum, the speed only increased. He had to see where he was going using the periphery of his vision, much like speed-reading. Everything else was distorted and out of focus.
He flew until his back ached and his neck was throbbing from the strain. When he finally slowed, he was so far inland he could hardly see the ocean. He was hovering over a massive city, the lights sparkling as brightly underneath him as those in the sky. Coming in low, he could see a dance club with a line outside. He spotted a park nearby and landed among some trees. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, the suit was open. Stepping out, the warm weather was like a blanket around him, and he could smell the fresh scent of grass and trees.
He was wearing thermal pants and a Columbia collared shirt with Vibram shoes. Not the best outfit for fitting in, but not the worst either. The suit, he found earlier, was essentially immobile. It weighed probably upwards of two to three thousand pounds, James had guessed, and even with a winch and five men they couldn’t budge it. Dillon wasn’t worried about theft.
Walking across the park, he got to the main street and tried to look at the license plate s on the cars passing him. He was able to speak some Spanish and though the language on the plates was close, it wasn’t identical. It was Portuguese. He was in Brazil, though he couldn’t guess which city.
He walked across the street and found the club that he had eyed. The line was only ten or so deep and he waited. There was no cover charge and he knew the watered down alcohol was where they made their money.
The club was packed and the heavy bass of the music vibrated his feet. He walked to the bar, which was off to the side and a little quieter than the main floor. He sat and the bartender came to him.
“ O que posso fazer
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