horrible reality, the machines had taken over. Baloo pounded his fist against the chair’s arm. If only he hadn’t lost that race! This entire mess was his fault. His fault and his fault alone, and there was nothing that he could do about it. And Baloo hated feeling helpless.

Kit popped his head out of the kitchen, from which emanated the delectable aroma of fried chicken. With a sad sigh, the boy asked, “Baloo, what are you doing sitting in the dark?”

“It’s dark?” the big bear mumbled, looking around dazedly. “Guess it is.”

Kit flipped on the desk lamp. “Dinner’s ready.”

“You go ahead, kid. I’m not hungry.” Baloo wearily rubbed his eyes with his palm.

The young navigator’s jaw dropped. The Baloo he knew would never have turned down dinner. Eating was his third favorite sport behind flying and napping. “I made fried chicken. Your favorite.”

Baloo grunted, yet remained in his seat.

“C’mon, Papa Bear, you have to eat something.” Kit took Baloo’s paw and dragged him into the kitchen.

Baloo dropped into a straight-backed chair. “Kit, we gotta get outta here. Outta Cape Suzette.”

“But...but...where will we go?” Kit asked softly, passing Baloo a plate containing two pieces of chicken along with a steaming hot baked potato, carrots, and a buttered piece of bread.

Baloo glanced at the delicious food on his plate, but pushed it away. Not even eating could cheer him up. “Don’t care. Far away from here as possible. Somewhere where no one’s heard of stupid ol’ Baloo, the pilot who was dumb enough ta lose a race to a gear-headed gizmo. I was thinkin’ somewheres like Anaesthesia. Good place out in the middle of nowhere for forgettin’ who ya are.”

Kit nodded slowly as he bit into a chicken leg. The thought of leaving home made him lose his appetite. He mechanically chewed and swallowed. Then, he asked a question that he didn’t want to ask. “Will we have to leave the Sea Duck here?”

After a long while, Baloo said quietly, “‘Fraid so, kiddo. Becky’s got the pink slip. Don’t matter, I guess. A rotten pilot like me’s got no business flyin’ anyways.” He pushed his chair back, scraping the legs on the wooden floor. “I’m goin’ ta bed. G’night, Li’l Britches.”

“Goodnight, Papa Bear.” Kit watched the big bear leave the kitchen, then glanced at Baloo’s untouched plate. His appetite gone, he stood and began cleaning up.

The Cunninghams’ Apartment

Clad in a white nightgown dotted with pink rosebuds, Rebecca Cunningham stared without seeing at the open ledger on her desk in her living room. At the moment, she felt drained. Drained and stressed and guilty. Business had dropped off markedly since Baloo had lost the race with the Auto Aviator.

She wasn’t mad at her pilot. She didn’t blame him. He had tried his best and failed, that was all. Everyone failed sooner or later, including herself. After five months of building Higher for Hire into a profitable business, she had failed. For five hectic, yet exhilarating months, she had battled competitors, plane breakdowns, stupid shipping clerks, lost cargos, etc. She had clawed her way up the ladder of the air cargo game, but was stopped short by a machine - a wall that she couldn’t get around or climb over. In fact - she reminded herself for the thousandth time - if she hadn’t rented theSea Duck to Martin Torque, none of this would have happened. Technically, all of this mess was her fault.

The petite brown bearess snapped out of her downhearted trance, yawned, passed a hand over her bedraggled hair, and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn’t have slept. She had to figure out a way to keep from getting further into debt. With no money coming in, it was impossible to make payments. Higher for Hire hadn’t exactly been swimming in black ink before the whole Auto Aviator affair, and there seemed no viable solution to make money. Shere Khan - and the Auto Aviators - held the monopoly on Cape Suzette’s air cargo business.

She gulped down the rest of her lukewarm coffee and rinsed her cup in the sink. She then crossed the apartment to Molly’s room, opened the door and tiptoed in. The little yellow six-year-old cub was curled up in her bed, clutching her favorite doll, fast asleep. With a sad smile, Rebecca pulled the coverlet over Molly’s shoulders and tenderly touched her cheek. If nothing else, she had to be strong for her daughter’s sake.

Rebecca closed Molly’s bedroom door quietly, then mechanically made her way to the living room couch where she sat down and stared at the waterfall rushing by the window. There was only one way out, loath as she was to admit it - close Higher for Hire and sell the Sea Duck to pay off the remaining debts. First thing in the morning she would have to call a broker.

Having to declare failure after only five months of being in business rankled. But she had more pressing problems to face. What was she going to do now? She didn’t have enough money to start another business, and it was difficult, to say the least, for a woman to find a job in the male-dominated business world. Rebecca shuddered at the thought of being demoted to a mere secretary. After all, she had a MBA and managerial experience. But that’s probably what she would have to take. She couldn’t afford to be too choosy. She had Molly’s welfare to think of.

But first things first. How would she ever tell Baloo that she was forced to sell his ‘baby’? He loved that plane almost as much as Kit. And losing the plane was only the tip of the iceberg. With the closure of Higher for Hire, the staff that had become her extended family would be split up. In a flash, she realized how much she had come to depend on them, and not just as a flight crew. Would she ever see Baloo, Kit, and Wildcat again? What would she do without their support...or just without them? She quickly pushed the thought of losing her best friends out of her mind. It hurt too much to think of it.

Rebecca flipped off the lamp and laid down, burying her face in a pillow. A few tears squeezed out from beneath her closed eyelids and trickled down her cheeks. The bearess lay there for a long time, sobbing bitterly, feeling that her life was spiraling out of control. She hated feeling helpless. She was finally lulled into a fitful sleep by the soothing murmur of the waterfall outside her window.

Meanwhile at Pirate Island

The pirate captain Don Karnage and his small band of air pirates were reposing in the large cave. Karnage, a brown wolf dressed in a blue coat, was reading a pilfered copy of the Cape Suzette Tribune by torchlight. He got a fiendish idea, noting that all of Cape Suzette’s cargo was now being hauled in planes piloted by machines. It was going to make it too easy to pilfer and plunder.

“I love this doodad!” he laughed, brandishing his sword. “A mechanical pilot. It flies here. It flies there. And always in the straight line. They call it the modern-day miracle. Well, my plundering protegees, I call it the sitting duck!”

End of part 2

From Here To Machinery Novelization
Written by Len Uhley
part 3

Higher for Hire
The Following Afternoon

Rebecca halfheartedly perused the ledger in which all the assets and debits were recorded. The debts far surpassed the assets, but that would change after she sold the Sea Duck.

Her flight crew had taken the news of Higher for Hire’s closing extremely well, Rebecca thought. Wildcat had simply nodded solemnly whereas Kit had stared at his feet and blinked furiously. Baloo had snapped out of his depressed stupor long enough to say, “Kit and me was plannin’ on takin’ off anyways, Becky.”

That information had stunned her. She had never thought that Baloo and Kit would leave Cape Suzette. With that in mind, she hadn’t had the heart to inform them that she was selling the Sea Duck. There didn’t seem to be a nice way to soften the blow, so she hadn’t brought it up.

The bearess jumped slightly when the telephone rang. She stared at it, knowing that it was a bill collector or the bank. It rang and rang and rang. Finally, she answered it.

In their bedroom upstairs, Baloo and Kit were stuffing everything that they owned into a duffel bag and a worn brown suitcase. Kit, glancing sadly around the room, still didn’t know for certain where they were going. He knew that wherever it was, it wouldn’t be half as wonderful as this place.

“Well, I guess that does it.” Baloo shoved his nightshirt into his bulging beige duffel bag and slung it across his shoulder.

After one last look around the room, Kit picked up the heavy suitcase and struggled with it down the stairs. Baloo followed.

Rebecca said into the phone, “Yes, I know what I owe you. I just can’t pay. Business is slow for everyone...What? Same to you, buddy!” She slammed the receiver down and shot a weak smile at Baloo and Kit, who were descending the stairs. “Um...wrong number.”

At that moment, an extremely agitated Molly ran into Higher for Hire as fast as her little legs could carry her. “Mommy, Wildcat’s telling fibs! He’s says we’re gonna close. He says Baloo’s going away.” The little girl looked up at the big bear for reassurance, imploring him with her eyes to say that the mechanic wasn’t telling the truth.

Sorrowfully, Baloo sighed. “Wildcat’s not fibbin', doll.”

Tears of anguish filled Molly’s big brown eyes, causing Baloo’s heart to plummet to his knees.

“No!” Molly shouted petulantly, pummeling Baloo’s stomach angrily with her small fists. “You can’t go! I won’t let you!” Overwhelmed with emotion, she began to cry. Too many bad things

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