There was a sputtering sound and then a deafening roar as the engine kicked on, and jerked me sideways like I was a marionette to a drunken puppeteer. Still falling, I rolled around in the air trying to stabilize myself. Spreading my arms wide, I leaned forward and was rewarded an immediate yank toward the sky. My toes dipped into the cold water of the Elsie River, and my breath caught in my throat as I flinched before impact. I did not splatter or die, and only had time to give thanks to the Almighty before I was gone, rocketing upwards away from the rocky riverbed.

Experimentally I rotated my shoulder to alter my course a little and promptly ricocheted off the nearest limestone wall. The impact knocked the wind out of me and I promised myself to listen to Doc in the future. I needed practice flying this thing if I was going to be anything more than a target. You’d have to be an acrobat by way of a gymnast to make the most out of it, but the freedom and the mobility it offered- why it could change the war!