seconds—"
The doomed pilot looked at the spinning sky and saw that the pilots of the two other gliders in his formation were following him down and their gliders were nowhere in sight. He looked down and in the time since he last saw the ground a huge red cloth had been stretched over the street with two corners tied around two lampposts.
"You will be fired upon—"
plop-plop-plop
The pilot fell on the red cloth, and the two others followed. He was alive. The cloth gave way like a trampoline. He rolled across a red valley, felt himself bump into one of the other pilots, and tried to get to his knees. He felt nauseated.
"You have ten seconds—"
He saw the far ends of the cloth and what was holding onto the corners there. The man in blue. He felt the surface below him give way like a beach blanket as he was thrown by an irresistible wave against the sky and several times the pressure of normal gravity mashed his face in.
"—starting NOW"
Superman calculated that the force with which he flung the three men into the air put their initial velocity at 160 feet per second. They would rise 400 feet into the sky and it would take them five seconds going up and five dropping back down. These thoughts flew through his head as he untied the corners of his red cape from the lampposts and fastened the clips inside his shirt as the cloth snapped back to its normal size. And the helicopter loudspeakers filled the air.
"Nine seconds."
Superman directed a narrow blast of air between his two front teeth. A block away one of the three rotors keeping the glider stable began to spin too fast. The front end of the craft nosed down, dropping the pilot out. A red-and-blue streak drew a parabolic curve under the glider as Superman snatched the falling criminal from his fall.
"Eight seconds."
As he swooped through the sky, the last son of Krypton threw a glance in the direction of a glider hovering over another bank building less than a block away. Banks were thicker in midtown than Cadillacs in Teheran. It was more than a glance that Superman shot at that glider. Its pilot felt unsteady; he looked up and saw his fiberglass kite crackling with intense heat over his head. It was bubbling, becoming disfigured into little globules of molten silicon that could not hold the wind, much less the pilot. As the craft began sailing into the nearest street the pilot made a whirling leap at the bank roof, hoping to land on a particularly padded part of his suit. He didn't land at all.
"Seven seconds."
The flying man carried his two charges by their padded trousers up toward a high ledge of the Galaxy Building and set them down. The ledge was at the level of the building's air conditioning system, so the only way off was by air. On the way down Superman went into a 300-foot power dive at his new targets, his arms flung behind him like the wings of a falcon.
"Six seconds."
He swept between two gliders over two adjacent buildings at a speed just under mach one. The reduced air pressure in his wake dragged the two of them together before they could think. A blast of heat vision Superman tossed back over his shoulder fused the roof doors of the adjoining buildings closed. These two would have nowhere to escape.
"Five seconds."
The lunchtime crowds on the streets hadn't yet figured out what was going on overhead. And an irresistible force came barreling out of the sky at the thronged plaza faster than any eye could possibly follow. He banked toward a scrawny tree standing on the sidewalk in a four-foot round concrete flower pot. Arcing upward, he snatched the plant with him pot and all. By the time he was six stories above the ground he was moving slowly enough so that the pilot of the glider above could see him coming.
"Four seconds."
Seven down out of the dozen. The eighth knew what was coming and couldn't get out of the way. His kite was about to get caught in a tree. Superman pronged his prize like a jouster and continued upward to drop the
The doomed pilot looked at the spinning sky and saw that the pilots of the two other gliders in his formation were following him down and their gliders were nowhere in sight. He looked down and in the time since he last saw the ground a huge red cloth had been stretched over the street with two corners tied around two lampposts.
"You will be fired upon—"
plop-plop-plop
The pilot fell on the red cloth, and the two others followed. He was alive. The cloth gave way like a trampoline. He rolled across a red valley, felt himself bump into one of the other pilots, and tried to get to his knees. He felt nauseated.
"You have ten seconds—"
He saw the far ends of the cloth and what was holding onto the corners there. The man in blue. He felt the surface below him give way like a beach blanket as he was thrown by an irresistible wave against the sky and several times the pressure of normal gravity mashed his face in.
"—starting NOW"
Superman calculated that the force with which he flung the three men into the air put their initial velocity at 160 feet per second. They would rise 400 feet into the sky and it would take them five seconds going up and five dropping back down. These thoughts flew through his head as he untied the corners of his red cape from the lampposts and fastened the clips inside his shirt as the cloth snapped back to its normal size. And the helicopter loudspeakers filled the air.
"Nine seconds."
Superman directed a narrow blast of air between his two front teeth. A block away one of the three rotors keeping the glider stable began to spin too fast. The front end of the craft nosed down, dropping the pilot out. A red-and-blue streak drew a parabolic curve under the glider as Superman snatched the falling criminal from his fall.
"Eight seconds."
As he swooped through the sky, the last son of Krypton threw a glance in the direction of a glider hovering over another bank building less than a block away. Banks were thicker in midtown than Cadillacs in Teheran. It was more than a glance that Superman shot at that glider. Its pilot felt unsteady; he looked up and saw his fiberglass kite crackling with intense heat over his head. It was bubbling, becoming disfigured into little globules of molten silicon that could not hold the wind, much less the pilot. As the craft began sailing into the nearest street the pilot made a whirling leap at the bank roof, hoping to land on a particularly padded part of his suit. He didn't land at all.
"Seven seconds."
The flying man carried his two charges by their padded trousers up toward a high ledge of the Galaxy Building and set them down. The ledge was at the level of the building's air conditioning system, so the only way off was by air. On the way down Superman went into a 300-foot power dive at his new targets, his arms flung behind him like the wings of a falcon.
"Six seconds."
He swept between two gliders over two adjacent buildings at a speed just under mach one. The reduced air pressure in his wake dragged the two of them together before they could think. A blast of heat vision Superman tossed back over his shoulder fused the roof doors of the adjoining buildings closed. These two would have nowhere to escape.
"Five seconds."
The lunchtime crowds on the streets hadn't yet figured out what was going on overhead. And an irresistible force came barreling out of the sky at the thronged plaza faster than any eye could possibly follow. He banked toward a scrawny tree standing on the sidewalk in a four-foot round concrete flower pot. Arcing upward, he snatched the plant with him pot and all. By the time he was six stories above the ground he was moving slowly enough so that the pilot of the glider above could see him coming.
"Four seconds."
Seven down out of the dozen. The eighth knew what was coming and couldn't get out of the way. His kite was about to get caught in a tree. Superman pronged his prize like a jouster and continued upward to drop the
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