decorated to the hilt. Large blue ribbons festooned either end of the Higher for Hire sign at the end of the dock and bunches of colorful balloons framed a gigantic sign saying: 'Big Race Today'. A crowd of pilots, reporters, and curious onlookers milled around the docks. Even the local radio station, K-CAPE, was present to broadcast the historical event.

“We should have sold hot dogs, Li’l Britches. We coulda made a fortune with this crowd,” Baloo remarked to Kit as they watched Wildcat put the finishing touches on a couple of alterations in the Sea Duck’scockpit - objects to help the pilot remain alert on the journey.

“At eight in the morning?” Kit said skeptically.

Baloo grinned. “Anytime’s a good time for a hot dog.”

“Maybe you should have set the destination, Baloo. Forty hours is a long time to stay awake,” Kit said uneasily.

Baloo fondly tousled the boy’s hair. “Aw, forty hours is nuthin’, kid. I remember one time Louie had a mambo-a-thon. The winner got ten free Krakatoa Specials an’ a straw hat.”

“A straw hat? I’m not even gonna ask.”

“Guess who won?” Baloo cleared his throat and casually jerked a thumb at the huge monstrosity of a hat hanging on the cockpit’s wall behind the pilot’s seat.

“You.” The young navigator flashed a wan smile. He had always wondered where Baloo had picked that thing up and why he had kept it.

The big bear grinned proudly. “You better believe it! Stayed awake for forty-nine hours straight. By the time it was over, I couldn’t tell the ground from the sky.”

“I wish I could go with you.”

“Me, too, kiddo. Sure could use yer navigation know-how, but Torque wants it mano-a-machino. I s’pose it’s more fair that way.”

Kit was about to say that the whole race didn’t seem fair when Rebecca approached them and roughly shoved her pilot towards where K-CAPE was set up in front of Higher for Hire. “Hurry up, Baloo! They’re ready for you.”

Dog Rather, K-CAPE’s prominent radio announcer, began the broadcast. “Good morning, Cape Suzette. I’m Dog Rather, reporting from the scene of the great race between that ace of the skies, Baloo,” Baloo puffed out his chest; “and the Auto Aviator, Professor Martin Torque’s robotic pilot.” Torque smiled smugly. “Yes, it’s an exciting day for aviation here in Cape Suzette.”

“At Higher for Hire,” Rebecca said into the microphone.

Dog Rather shot an askance look at the bearess, who backed away, mumbling, “Well, we are at Higher for Hire.”

“In a few minutes, the pilots will take off. Okay, here are the rules.” He pointed to the map hung on the wall behind him. “Pilots will fly to Tundra City, pick up the cargo, and return to Cape Suzette. Round trip forty hours. Any questions?”

Martin Torque smirked. He knew it was an impossible task for any human pilot, but not for his robot. It needed no sleep. The Auto Aviator was sure to win.

“Yeah.” Baloo snatched up the microphone, causing shrill feedback to echo across the harbor. “Why don’t ya start sewin’ my name on the winner’s sash? That’s Baloo with two oos.”

“Pilots to the starting line,” said Dog Rather.

Baloo and the Auto Aviator stood beside the gangplanks leading up to their respective planes on opposite sides of the dock.

“This is gonna be too easy!” Baloo gloated.

“Don’t blow this, Baloo, or us freelance pilots will be out of jobs,” hissed a canine pilot.

“Ready!” shouted Dog Rather.

“Don’t blow this, Baloo, or us Khan pilots will be out of jobs,” whispered one of Shere Khan’s pilots.

“Get set!” yelled Dog Rather.

“You lose this one, and Higher for Hire’s out of business!” Rebecca whispered loudly.

A baffled expression crossed Baloo’s face. There was a lot more riding on this race than he had previously thought.

“Go!” screamed Dog Rather, firing a pistol into the air.

As the crowd cheered, Baloo scrambled into the Sea Duck’scockpit.

“Good luck, Baloo!” Kit called from the dock.

“Don’t worry, Li’l Britches,” Baloo said confidently. “With Papa Bear at the controls, this contest is no contest.”

Kit cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the formidable-looking Auto Aviator in the red airplane. “I sure hope so,” he muttered under his breath, crossing his fingers behind his back.

The two planes zoomed off with the Sea Duck in the lead. After they had disappeared between the cliffs, the crowd began to dissipate.

“Quick, Kit, hand these out before they all leave.” Rebecca shoved a stack of fliers promoting her business into the boy’s hands. “Remember to stress that Higher for Hire has the best pilot in the air.”

“But, Miz Cunningham, what if Baloo doesn’t win?”

“Hehas to,” she said. She shot a fretful glance at the cliffs. The survival of her business depended upon Baloo’s success. “Just pass them out.”

Feeling extremely awkward, the boy stood on the dock and handed a flier to every passerby. Most of the fliers, he noticed, were ending up in the trash can or on the ground. One man even spit something into it, crumpled it up, and tossed it over his shoulder.

Kit grimaced. “I’m not picking that one up. Nope.” He turned his eyes towards the cliffs and whispered, “Good luck, Papa Bear.”

End of part 1

From Here to Machinery Novelization
Written by Len Uhley
part 2

The Great Race Continues
Hour One

TheSea Duck and the Auto Aviator’s red plane made their way towards Tundra City - a frigid country near the Arctic Circle. The Auto Aviator made a beeline towards the country, whereas Baloo, sorely missing his navigator, took a more S-shaped route.

Baloo was very optimistic about the outcome of the race. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would win. After all, wasn’t he the top dog on the Air Race Wall of Fame?

“Ha! Ha! No sign of that machine anywheres, baby. We musta out shot him by twenty thousand million miles. Never send a machine ta do a bear’s job.” Tapping his fingers on the steering yoke, Baloo hummed ‘I’m Gone’.

Hour Five

Baloo steered with his feet while wrestling with the map. He turned it this way and that, trying to figure out which way was north.

“Where the heck am I? Sure could use my navigator an’ a sandwich right now. A sandwich an’ a slice of Louie’s pepperoni pizza. Make that two slices with a Krakatoa Special chaser an’ a triple thick Mango Shake...”

Hour Ten

Baloo slouched in the pilot’s seat. His eyes glazed over, the big bear mechanically took a sip of Orange Fizzie.

Hour Fifteen

The sky was pitch black with a million stars. Wearily slumped over the steering yoke, Baloo yawned a gaping yawn that should have dislocated his jawbone. “Shoulda got me some more shut-eye last night.” He rolled down the window to let some of the brisk air into the cockpit.

Hour Twenty

Finally, a grueling twenty hours after departure from Cape Suzette, the Sea Duck skidded to a stop on the icy harbor outside of Tundra City. Baloo literally fell out of the plane headfirst into a snowdrift. “Oh, man, this race is gettin’ ta be a drag.”

The frigid wind revitalized him for a moment. Standing a little way up the dock was a penguin - frozen as he stood in his stocking cap, scarf, and coat. He held a frozen flag that read,‘Yay’. He pointed to two small crates on the dock.

“Where’s the cargo?” Baloo yelled over the blizzard’s howling wind. The snow-covered crates looked like soft, comfortable pillows to the fatigued bear, so he lay down on the ground, resting his head on one. “I s’pose a couple of winks couldn’t hurt...”

Just as he was about to doze off, the Auto Aviator’s plane landed.

With surge of angry energy, Baloo roused himself. “No! No gadget’s gonna beat this bear!” He picked up a crate and pushed past the robot, who was methodically marching up the dock. “One side. Outta my way!”

Higher for Hire
Tuesday
10:30 PM

A warm breeze wafted the smell of the salty sea air towards Kit, who was sitting on the edge of the dock, staring up at the stars. The constellations, as familiar as the back of his hand, comforted the boy. They reminded him that some things remained constant even when the world was in turmoil. The unchanging stars were there no matter where he had been: in the orphanage, on the streets, with the air pirates, or here at Higher for Hire.

The young navigator mentally plotted Baloo’s flight path. If all had gone as planned, Baloo should have been over the north Atlantic Ocean. Kit shifted his gaze from the heavens to Rebecca when she sat down beside him.

“What are you still doing up?” the bearess asked softly.

Kit shrugged and flashed her a slight smile. “Just thinking.”

Rebecca yawned, then grinned at him. “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

He nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“Molly’s been in bed for hours, and I’m ready to join her. I think I’ll even sleep well in that hammock,” she chuckled. “How about you?”

“Yeah, in a minute, Miz Cunningham.”

Rebecca rose and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “He’ll be fine, Kit. If anyone can handle it, it’s Baloo. Remember that tomorrow’s a school day. Don’t stay out too late.”

“I won’t. Goodnight, Miz Cunningham.”

“Goodnight.”

Hit with a sudden thought, Kit said, “Uh, Miz Cunningham?”

Rebecca stopped and turned to look at the boy. “Yes?”

“Could I take Thursday off from school?” Kit asked, whipping his baseball cap off; he fiddled with it. “Baloo’s supposed to come home Thursday morning and...”

“And you’d like to be here to see him win,” Rebecca concluded, smiling. “Well...we’ll see, okay, sweetie?”

He returned her smile, instinctively knowing that she would let him have a vacation day. “Okay.”

As Kit put his cap on and turned the bill backwards, he watched

Previous Page

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Next page