Stubby's Run
“So you're saying that if I go fast enough in this thing, I'll go into another dimension?” Stubby Reiner looked over the car the egg-heads had brought in for him to look at. It wasn't much on the eyes, nothing like his Mark II or the Sweeper he had out back, but it had a certain charm to it, a sleekness he found appealing. Of course, the fact that it ran on dark matter just upped the ante.
“Not quite,” there was an amused quality to the voice of Doctor Pip Landsbury, one that Stubby had been hearing clearly since the Doc and his team walked into the shop. Fact was, he knew they'd been sent to him because he was the best driver in country, something that did no small thing for his ego. They could look down their noses at him all they wanted – he'd gotten the fighting bug out of his system long ago – since when they were gone, he'd still be rich, famous and fast.
“What then, Doc?” Landsbury's brows creased. It was obvious he didn't like the shortening of his title, which meant Stubby would use it more often. His mama had always told him he was a trying child on the best of days, and maybe that's why he wanted to go so fast. People didn't mind talking to him for a few minutes, but after that they wished he'd go away, and as quickly as possible.
Stubby knew his appearance didn't do him any favors when combined with his manners. Big ears, a big nose and small eyes gave him the look of a rat dressed in plaid, and he couldn't help but feel like he'd missed the invitation to the fancy-clothes party, looking at the team Doc had brought with him. Landsbury himself was tall and iron-haired, with a slightly hooked nose and a cast to his face that brooked no nonsense. He alone out of the four scientists in Stubby's garage was wearing a lab coat, probably to convince Stubby that he meant business.
The other two men in the group were dressed in dark business suits, and looked similar enough to be brothers. Both had red hair and freckles, and had to be at least five years younger than Stubby. Ray and Jay, Doc had called them, and though they hadn't spoken, their looks of disdain said it all. They weren't southern boys, that was for sure.
It was the woman who really held his attention, though he tried not to let it show. Long, dark hair framed a porcelain face, and the blue eyes staring out over high cheekbones seemed to see right through him. Lana Rathbone was her name, and after a brief introduction, Stubby had all but ignored her. Doc wanted to ask him something important, or so he'd been told, and he didn't need a woman fouling it all up.
Now that he'd heard what Doc wanted, he wasn't so sure what was so damned important it had brought the man all the way from his lab in New York.
“What, then?” Stubby asked again, moving forward to touch the sloping hood of the car, his irritation rising. One of the red-hairs – Jay, he thought – moved to stop him, but Doc shook his head. They didn't understand, of course. They'd built the car, but that wasn't the same as loving her. Touch and feel were the first warning signs any driver had that something was wrong with his vehicle, and meeting a new car meant shaking hands, getting to know what made it tick. He smiled. It was forward, but he really wanted to see under her hood.
“As I told you, Mr. Reiner,” Doc said in a not-so-patient tone.
“Stubby,” he cut in abruptly. This was his home and his garage, and Mr. Reiner was his father.
“Stubby.” He could hear the strain in Doc's voice, and had to hide a smile. It wasn't that he went out of his way to anger Yankees, just that they seemed to take offense so easily.
“The X-1 won't take you to another dimension, just move you more rapidly through ours. The idea is that at high speeds, the machine can generate enough energy to open a portal, one that's tied to a beacon we've set up in New York. Once it passes through the portal, it should instantly appear in our lab – at a far more reasonable velocity – and we'll be able to assess how well the process works.”
Stubby nodded, not really listening as he made his way around the car. He'd heard enough to understand, but was more focused on the beauty they'd crafted – she was appealing to him more and more as he got a better look. Even egg-heads could get some things right, it seemed.
“First off,” he said shortly, “she's a car, not a machine.” Doc opened his mouth to say something more, but Stubby kept talking. “Second, why do you need me? You could've taken this thing to New Jersey or one of them other northern states to test this out. What the hell are you doing this far south?”
Doc shifted uncomfortably, and then glanced at the woman beside him.
“The truth is, Stubby,” Lana said softly, taking a step toward him. “that none of our team was willing to pilot the car that fast. Combine that with the fact that we haven't done a long distance test and well,” she smiled and gestured in his direction, “that led us to you.”
“Ok,” he heard himself saying, “I'll do it.” He cursed inside his head. He shouldn't have looked right at her – damn blue eyes had caught him off guard. “How damn fast do you need me to go, anyway?”
Doc checked his notes, and a grin spread across his face. “Five hundred and seventeen miles an hour, Stubby, and that's just for the warm-up.”
Fear wasn't something Stubby was used to feeling, so he decided to label it as caution. Severe, heart-pounding caution. This was going to be fun – or deadly. Or both.
- D
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