I'd Rather Be Flying

"Balloon Rides" read the old sign on the shoulder of the lonely two-lane highway that marked the intersection with the dusty side road. A large friendly arrow on it hailed travelers to turn right and seek audience with the airplane hanger off in the distance and tall dry grass fringed the base of its splintering support poles like the loose straw of a scarecrow's collar. The late afternoon son bathed it in a warm light that made it glow against the deep blue of the high altitude sky. The red paint in the lettering had faded so much that in places only the taller ridges of the brush strokes survived and before long there would nothing left but a ghostly silhouette of the lettering.

In the distance an automobile spiritedly danced along the road, slowing to a crawl as it approached. As if pondering the invitation to seek out the hanger, the car almost came to a complete stop before accepting and turning off the highway. The driver gingerly guided the sporty car as it transitioned from the hard pavement to the dusty pathway leading into the old airport, only to pick up the pace once the ruts at the pavement's edge had been conquered.

A short distance from the turn-off down the well-worn parallel dirt tracks, the vehicle passed by what had once been a military sentry shack. The passage of time had withered away its charge so that the only things now remaining under its watchful eye were a tattered barbed-wire fence and the rusting pipes of an old cattle guard. The driver slowed the vehicle again as she drove it through the barrier, being cautious so as to not damage the underside of her new convertible. The sagebrush flanking the gravel path cast long shadows over the car's slippery red surface and dust swirled up over the trunk lid as it was pulled into the slipstream's shadow behind the windscreen. Bright particles of dust began to collecting on its tail lights as it wound its way down the path.

The vehicle's turbine-electric engine sang quietly, barely audible above the stones popping and crunching beneath the wide, high performance tires. A little farther into the airfield, the road meandered past the rotating beacon and automated weather station, gently curving toward the looming hanger. Like a ghost town, sprinkled about here and there were the cement foundations of buildings long passed away.

Rounding the bend, the driver and her passenger laid eyes on two airplanes that slowly revealed themselves from behind a row of unkempt shrubs. The two well used crop dusters were parked dormant on the ancient concrete apron in front of the hanger and gray canvas cockpit covers were neatly fastened in place as they awaited the next day's work. The dry weeds growing in the expansion joints between the cement squares of the ramp formed right-angled geometric patterns, prompting the sunglass bespectacled passenger to remark to her driver friend on how the scene always reminded her an abstract perspective line drawing.

The pathway led directly to the left side of one of the airplanes, and the driver, Pamela, eased her car back up onto hard surface again. It passed close to the plane's wingtips and once clear of the craft, turned to the right towards the hanger, giving her passenger, Rachel, an excellent view of the front of each plane.

Each old bird had a highly polished chrome spinner capping a black, nicked-up aluminum propeller. A single large exhaust stack jutted out on both sides of each nose; bare inconel hued with reds and blues from the hot combustion gases. Crimson preflight inspection streamers hung from various protrusions, dangling listlessly in the still air.

Both planes were positioned for easy departure from in front of the hanger, their tail wheels tied down at the perimeter of the concrete surface. Stenciled in white paint on one of the planes (much like the mascot on an old fighter plane) were the words "Big Horse" and a little cartoon picture that Rachel could not quite make out from a distance.

As they passed in front of them, Pamela recited from memory the make, model, and engine configuration of each plane and even knew (in excruciating detail) the back story on their serial numbers.

"Yes, you tell me that every time" Rachel reminded her friend.

"But they're so cool!" Pam was incorrigible in her enthusiasm.

Rachel was clearly not impressed, though, and responded accordingly with a monotonic "Uh-huh". Pam just smiled as they cleared the two craft, her passenger's disinterest going unnoticed.

Dominating the view ahead was the hanger. The giant building was originally designed to house the large bombers that once populated the airfield and its scale was hard to wrap one's mind around. The segmented doors sealing the gaping maw of the building's entrance were simply massive, covering the entire side of the building. And like the flying buttresses of a medieval cathedral, door support gantries flanked each side of the structure's main entrance. Built at the foot of each flanking support wall were rows of single story offices. Their cinder block walls were painted in a fading olive drab and frames of the multi-paned windows embedded at regular intervals had been glued shut by untold layers of paint. Up top, the structure's corrugated steel roof formed a single long archway above the main doors. To the left side of the main entrance, embedded at the bottom of one of the door segments, was yet a smaller door of the size one could find in a typical home.

Driving on a large expanse of pavement was not unlike piloting a ship in a harbor and Pam patiently set course for the human-sized doorway. On the right set of hanger doors was a big logo that read "Kane's Flying Service" and Pam noted out loud that the proprietor's beat-up old pickup truck was gone. "They must have finished up early today." she remarked to Rachel, who nodded in agreement.

The long shadow cast by the giant building swallowed the little red Honda as it approached and as the distance between the car and the entryway closed, Pam made a slight course change to the left followed by a sweeping turn to the right, coming to a gentle stop with her side of the car directly adjacent to the small door. Satisfied with her arrival, she pulled on the hand brake lever and shut the engine down.

Like the end of so many other convertible rides, the sudden calm and quietness made the atmosphere feel deep and hollow. The fresh memory of the swirling slipstream pounding down on the senses always made for a stark contrast to the sudden calmness one found at the end of the ride. It was much like lying down in bed after a day spent in the waves at the seashore; one still felt as if being pushed around by the rushing air.

As she opened the driver's side door and swung her legs out to stand, Pam asked her passenger to retrieve a set of keys from the glove box. Rachel cheerfully complied with her friend's request.

Handing the keys to Pam, she then exited from her side of the car, closing the door behind her. In the stillness, the precision mechanism of the latch made a pronounced yet satisfyingly tight "kuh-lok" sound as the striker met the locking plate and the sound echoed off the lumbering hanger doors. Pam was already at the small entrance door, peering through the dusty glass panes into the darkened interior as she searched for the right key. The deep shadow cast by the tall roofline hovered over the two women as they stood there, enabling Rachel to remove her sunglasses and peer into the impossibly deep blue sky without having to squint.

Finding the right key, Pam opened the door to a clunk and a sharp slap that echoed around the interior of the cavernous building in a way that made Rachel's footsteps outside sound flat in comparison. As soon as she disappeared inside, Pam turned to her left and walked directly to the main lighting switch on the wall. Flipping it on, the contacts of a large relay somewhere up in the ceiling snapped together and the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed as they slowly began flickering to life. Rachel followed Pam through the doorway and took in the scene before her.

The sun streamed through the windows along the top of the hanger walls as dust particles danced in the angled shafts of light. Though it was aging, the hanger had been lovingly cared for over the years and one could smell the rich aviation history that dwelled within its walls. The other end of the hanger had the same segmented door setup as the one where the women had just passed through and along the base of the hangers walls were the windowed offices. On the owner's side of the hanger, what windows weren't blocked by shelving or plywood had been blackened out. The only exception was the glass entry door through which Rachel could see a service counter and a waiting area with chairs and a coffee machine.

The walls of the hanger had been painted a light gray a long time ago and rose perhaps 50 feet up into the steel trestles of the rafters. In one corner of the hanger sat Pam's ancient yellow Piper Cub she was so fond of. Next to the plane was her hot air balloon support truck with the words "Team Rathani" emblazoned upon its door in colorful text. But parked square in the middle of the hanger floor and illuminated by the streaming sunlight, sat a spiffy new delivery van with the logo of Pam's employer, CV Technologies, on it's side.

"What's with the van?" Rachel asked. Pam usually didn't have access to company equipment outside of work. "Are you fencing company property, now? I wondered how you could afford a new car right now."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." retorted Pam in a sarcastic tone. Continuing with "You're just jealous", she stuck out her tongue at Rachel with an exaggerated "nyah". It was the good natured banter one would expect from two old friends.

Pam rented space for her flying activities from Luther, the hanger's owner. This, Rachel knew for sure. But she was always telling Rachel about the dangers of industrial espionage and how CVT insisted that its employees keep a low profile. So the presence of the company van was genuinely puzzling. The old airfield didn't see much activity, but it was not abandoned by any stretch of the imagination. Would this not attract undue attention?

Expecting such a reaction, Pam was ready with an answer. "It's alright, I'll explain in a little while" she said. "Go on in while I check on something. There are drinks in the 'fridge." She handed the key ring to Rachel.

Though her curiosity was begging for attention, Rachel suppressed the urge to pepper her friend with a barrage of questions. She merely smiled, said "Okay", and made her way to Pam's rented office, fumbling for the right key among the dozen or so on the ring as she walked. Pam's office door was always easy to find. It was the one the closest one to the main hanger entrance and had an old, professionally hand painted sign that said INSTRUCTORS ONLY. Rachel inserted the proper key in the lock as she reached the door. She always was taken by surprise by the absence of an audible tone or blinking light when she opened the door. It was so ancient that it was purely mechanical in design. As the door opened, Rachel peered in.

The walls of the little office were decorated with that cheap plywood paneling that had been so popular at one time. The ceiling tiles were musty and had brown water stains in many places. In fact, it looked like the last time the place had been remodeled must have been during the middle of the previous century. The room even had the old military surplus furniture left there when the airfield had been decommissioned. Along the outer wall was a window with yellowing curtains and a door leading to the tarmac outside. The windows along the interior wall where Rachel had just entered afforded a panoramic view of the hanger floor through disarrayed Venetian blinds.

Next to the exterior door was an old tubular steel-framed couch with thick vinyl cushions. In the couch's center was a large tear that had been amateurishly repaired with silvery-gray adhesive duct tape. Despite the presence of a coiled spring that was valiantly trying to poke through the ancient material, a deep depression on one side of the couch advertised the fact that it was the best seat in the house.

In the middle of the room was a stout gray metal desk and on it sat a decidedly modern nodebox and printer along with a cordless telephone and base station. Next to the computer was an ancient automotive AM/FM radio and a homemade power supply that also served as its pedestal.

On the wall behind the desk hung a whiteboard with cryptic aviation and weather jargon scribbled all over its surface and navigation charts and computer print-outs festooned its perimeter. Humming away in the corner on the opposite side of the office (facing the desk) was a full sized refrigerator that Pam had saved from the scrap heap. The room's final compliment was a small entryway beside the appliance leading to a pair of restrooms.

Rachel entered the room and sauntered toward the refrigerator along the well worn path in the linoleum, uttering the command "Lights" as she was half way across. Immediately, the ancient fluorescent tubes came to life, save for one in the corner fixture sputtering as it's ballast buzzed softly in protest. The room's smell matched its appearance and was a medley of ancient office furniture, the exhaled smoke from countless cigarettes and cigars, and spiced with a hint of mildew.

The raven-haired woman could not have been more of a contrast to her surroundings. "Poised" was the perfect word to describe her physical presence and she moved as if modeling the latest couture at a Paris fashion show. Her graceful movement was something that she had never actively cultivated. It just came naturally. With a face often described as Elvin, she had a long, graceful neck with soft creamy shoulders and a wasp thin waist. Her hips flared below, wide and curvy and flowing into long legs. Befitting the rest of her figure was as full and round bust - a feature she felt was a curse because of the unwanted attention it often brought her.

In her professional life, she wanted to be taken seriously as an artist and candidate for tenure at Enormous State University's CattyN School of Fine Arts, so she felt that accentuating her chest wasn't conducive to her goal. She thought it made her appear anti-intellectual instead. So it became habit to always dress in a manner that concealed her bounty. The method of camouflage this day was a loose white short-sleeved blouse and a yellow bandana that hung loosely from her neck. But if one looked closely enough, though, gaps along the buttons up front would yield a quick, yet cheap thrill. Her dainty leather sandals clicked and tapped on the delaminated floor covering as she glided across the room toward the refrigerator.

Reaching the dilapidated appliance, she opened the bottom door and peered in, pondering her choices. Inside was a collection of lunches never eaten, molding away in their containers, a diverse array of partly used condiments and quite a few soft drinks. Among the soda cans and bottles on the top shelf, was a rectangular plastic food container that looked like it was half filled with flour.

Pondering her drink choices, she opted for a Zero-Carb Diet Caffeine-Free Vanilla Limon Sievert! Cola (only 1 calorie per serving). She took one, paused a moment, then grabbed an additional one for her friend. Turning around while simultaneously bumping the door closed with a heel, she headed for the desk in center of the room. As she held one bottle in her hand, she placed the other against her slender mid-section with her forearm. With her free hand, she twisted off the plastic cap of the gripped bottle, mildly grimacing from the effort. A quick check of the cap's underside revealed that she had not won anything in the drink company's latest promotional giveaway. "Sorry" apologized the writing under the cap. "Play again for a chance to win!".

"I never win any Toys." she complained aloud, rolling her eyes.

Upon reaching the far side of the desk, she pulled a reclining swivel chair from behind. It creaked and groaned as she sat down in it and she surveyed a mosaic of old photographs displayed beneath the desk's scratched Plexiglas surface as she settled in. The collection had been built up over the years, added to by numerous other tenants.

Every time she visited, Rachel always thought it was fun to try and piece together the story told by the scene. In many of the pictures were poses of men and women standing next to long forgotten aircraft; some exotic, some mundane. Other pictures were obviously family portraits and one looked like that of someone's girlfriend. The clothes worn by the various subjects clued the viewer into the vast time line encompassed by the display. To round out the collection, Pam had contributed a few pictures of her own.

A check of tomorrow's weather forecast was in order, so Rachel pressed the power button on the box to tap into the net. As the interface shimmered into existence above the desk surface, she flipped on the power supply for the radio.

The stereo was an old in-dash unit and just happened to be the last surviving part from a car Pam had driven back when the two were undergrad roommates at ESU. The vehicle had been one of those cute little right-hand drive British Minis Pam's father had bought for her to drive while in school and it was supposedly one of the last originals off the assembly line. This fact had been a great source of pride for Pam and she never passed up an opportunity to tell people about it. So, to say that the radio had a lot of sentimental value would be an understatement.

Two unmounted stereo speakers had somehow been attached to the correct wires in the tangled harness at the back of the unit, each at opposite corners of the desk. Music played as the radio powered-up and Rachel could see the Noise Reduction logo displayed next to the dancing light bars of the graphic equalizer. The illuminated "Carnatic" logo was visible in the display screen. The radio's Reception was quite exceptional despite being so far out of town.

Pam walked in as Rachel was looking at the weather forecast. Smiling, she closed the door behind her and asked how things were looking for the next day.

"Pretty good" came the response.

"And this evening?"

"Hold on - let me check." Rachel moved her hands in a precisely choreographed manner over the sensor pad and a three dimensional weather map appeared as lines of text scrolled down a window in the holographic interface. "Not bad. Clear, mild, with light and variable winds."

"Great!" exclaimed Pam, suddenly brightening even more than her normal cheery self. She bounced on her heels as she stood in front of the desk.

"Oh - got one for you. It's nice and cold" said Rachel, holding out the unopened soda bottle.

Pam thanked her friend and took the bottle, enjoying a big swig of the refreshment after opening it.

"Well, did you win anything?" inquired Rachel.

Pam held the bottle cap up to the light and smiled. "Awright! A free pass to see 'Mondo the Great' perform at Six Flags!"

"Ugh." Rachel growled, again rolling her eyes. She couldn't help but feel a small twinge of jealousy toward her friend.

That's always the way it was with Pam - good fortune always followed her. Not only had she been hired right out of one of the hottest tech graduate schools in the country by CVT, but in just a few short years she was earning large piles of money and advancing steadily in her career.

Meanwhile, Rachel's own path seemed like it was stalled and going nowhere. She spent her days suffering the indignity of having to teach class after class of dumb football jocks on scholarships and sorority princesses seeking their "MRS" degrees how to hold a sketch pencil. Despite her love for art and the broad education she had earned, some days she felt like simply quitting and taking up avocation in the exciting world of retail grocery sales.

It certainly wasn't Pam's looks that explained her advancement. She was by no means unattractive, but she was not a stunning beauty either. She was clumsy in movement and plain in manner. She had no fashion sense, or at least felt no urgency to ever dress up. The faded ESU intramural T-Shirt, sweat pants, and tennis shoes she was currently wearing were de rigueur. The most she ever did with her shoulder length light brown hair was to either braid it or put it up into a ponytail. And while not quite lanky, she certainly wasn't very shapely. At least she had finally heeded Rachel's pleas and gone in for corrective eye surgery, eliminating her need for glasses.

Despite this, she never had to put much effort into dating; men always seemed to flock to her and as of late it appeared that wedding bells were in her near future. For this, Rachel had to concede her friend's gifts of intelligence and a genuinely friendly nature. Deep down, Rachel had to acknowledge that the professional and personal success Pam enjoyed were well deserved.

Rachel had known her friend long enough to realize that Pam's bouncing and barely suppressed smile signaled nervousness.

"You're hiding something. What's going on?" she asked pointedly, looking Pam square in the eye.

Pam glanced away, stealing a quick look at the hanger floor over her shoulder. Her barely suppressed smile turned into a barely suppressed, guilty smirk. Happy guilt, yes, but it was an unmistakable look of guilt that washed over her face.

"I lied to you" she blurted out, her smirk now in full bloom.

Rachel pursed her lips at hearing this, raising an eyebrow. A keen understanding of body language was one trait with which she had an advantage over her friend. "Like, 'duh' Pam. I can read you like a book".

Pam's shoulders fell a bit at hearing this and she became a little more serious as her bouncing momentarily ceased. And when she was serious about something, it was as if her techno-geek coefficient dropped an order of magnitude.

Pam let out a brief sigh as she began to speak. "The ruse was to get you out here without anybody at the party getting suspicious. I haven't been up in my balloon in almost a year, yuh' know. But I've got to keep people thinking otherwise."

Well, THAT was no big surprise. Pam was always cooking up one hair-brained scheme or another. Rachel answered with another rendition of her monotone "Uh-huh."

"Besides, I think you'll like what I have to show you". Pam brightened with this thought and began bouncing again.

"So, pray tell, O great techno-girl" Rachel pressed, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back in the creaking chair. She lowering her gaze to look Pam directly in the eye. "Just what IS the plan for this evening?"

"It's kind of a secret."

"Kind of?" Rachel reacted sardonically. Why was it that engineers could be so vague like this?

"Well, I'm finally allowed to tell a few select people. But you have to keep this quiet." Rachel was a little taken back by the implied meaning of the comment and was visibly bristled.

Pam, realizing her gaffe, defensively raised both eyebrows at Rachel's reaction and tried to explain herself. "Look, I'm really serious" she blurted out. "We can't even trust the government on this one. Once we're ready to go to market, we can quickly perform some 'official' clinical trials." She pantomimed little quotation marks with her hands and fingers when she said the word "official".

In her excitement, Pam was several steps too far ahead in her rapid-fire explanation of things. But from the context of the situation, it was quite obvious to Rachel that all the theatrics had something to do with Pam's work. "By then, we'll have had a good lead on the competition" continued the woman in a rapid staccato. "Industrial espionage is always a danger. I'm taking a real risk showing you."

Pam's poor choice of words elicited an instantaneous response from her friend. "You'd think that I would go blabbing your secrets to everybody?!" Rachel protested, quickly sitting up straight and unfolding her arms as she subconsciously balled her fists.

"I'm not saying you would." Pam's geek coefficient went back down again and she held her hands palm out in a calming gesture, causing Rachel to stifle another retort. "But I have to stress this to you: if you were to accidentally mention in any way, shape, or form about seeing something interesting here this evening, it could be devastating to the project. Every little tidbit of information or seemingly off-hand remark could be added to all kinds of other little pieces to form a whole picture. Believe me when I tell you that someone is always watching and waiting."

Rachel nodded in reluctant understanding and visibly relaxed a little as she realized that her friend did not mean ill towards her.

Pam regrouped her thoughts and started over, pausing with an extended blink of her eyes. "All I'm saying is, don't tell anybody anything about what you're about to see here, okay?" Her tone was much more soothing now. "All we did was pull out my hot air balloon equipment to prep it for a flight in the morning. That's the official story - okay?"

"Uh-huh" came the response. The more diplomatic approach had worked to reassure her friend. Though often socially awkward, Pam was a quick study and often was able to pull herself out of self-inflicted embarrassment in a spectacular manner. Rachel quickly realized that Pam was actually placing a lot of trust in her and as she acknowledged her understanding, injecting a bit of humor with a big, exaggerated wink.

"Good!" exclaimed Pam, beaming and bouncing.

"Rachel, you have a pretty good idea of what I do for a living, right?"

"Yeah, Kinda." Pam had explained it to her before, but always got so caught up in the details that much of it was lost on Rachel. "Medical applications for nano machines, I think."

"Right."

"Didn't CVT's founder patent the first practical uses for them?" Rachel had read up a little on Pam's employer.

Pam was impressed. "Yeah, he did most of the foundational work when he was still a professor at ESU. He worked out of Clovis Hall right next to where you teach." As usual, Pam got caught up in the excitement of the moment and began pummeling her friend with more information than was necessary. "He and one of the students that worked for him. They left academia and started Critical Volume Technologies with the money they made off that first patent."

"So tell me what's going on." Rachel was willing to suffer her friend's idiosyncrasies, but her curiosity was making her impatient.

Pam continued with a little background. "Along about the time that first project was wrapping up, they found some interesting side effects from another product they were working on. That's when I came into the picture: for my first assignment at CVT, I wound up being put on the team developing the product for market. We're in the final testing stages before we go for government approval."

"So, what is it?"

"It's an auto safety product."

"Um....okaaayy." Rachel wasn't quite sure what this had to do with her. "What does this have to do with me?"

Pam was unfazed. "It's been thoroughly tested in a laboratory environment for the last three years, but we wanted to get some real world reaction before we applied for government approval. Like I explained, we have to keep this quiet. So, it was decided to enlist the help of personal friends and family members."

"So, I get to be a guinea pig then" was Rachel's response.

"No, no, no!" Pam protested. "The theory is very sound. We haven't had any major problems during the program. Each of the members have had a chance to try it and it works really well. This is more of a marketing test than anything else."

"Okay" said Rachel, dryly, knowing that there had to be more to the story.

"But, in my spare time I've been playing with it and have discovered some more interesting effects. CVT's owner said to go ahead and try them out 'cause it sounded like it had promise."

Bingo! "Uh-huh. So, you haven't tested this new version?" Rachel said, skeptically.

"Yes, I have." Pam insisted. "It works just like the regular version and I assure you it's quite safe. In fact, it's actually fun to use. Do you wanna try it?"

"Umm, I still don't know what it is."

"Well, it can sound rather bizarre at first, so I'm trying to introduce you to it gently."

"Just tell me, already." Rachel pressed her friend.

Pam drew in a deep breath, pausing for effect. "You know I've had my hot air balloon rating for awhile, right?"

"Yes."

"It's really fun, but the logistics can be a pain. It's not like my Cub, where I can just get in, fire her up, and go for a ride."

Having helped Pam with the balloon many times, Rachel agreed.

"What if I told you I had a way to go ballooning without all that equipment?"

"You mean like the those guys who did the cluster ballooning at the last rally?" guessed Rachel.

"Kind of, but with even less equipment than that."

"What, like with a suit or something?"

Pam smiled at this, bouncing. "Yeah, or something".

"TELL ME." This obtuseness was really getting annoying.

"We've figured out a way to eliminate airbags for cars. No inflating airbag. No inflating suit." Pam again paused here for dramatic effect.

"Just you."

"Huh?"

"You - the driver - inflates in a crash." Pam explained.

Rachel blinked, disbelieving.

"We call it the 'Internal Airbag'."

Rachel blinked again, her face blank with incomprehension.

"It's going to revolutionize the industry!"

Again, Rachel blinked, eyes widening as the entire picture suddenly snapped into focus. Though her education in the hard sciences was lacking, she was well aware of the progress made in the computing, bio-engineering, and nano-technology fields over the past several decades. What may have once been the stuff of movies or magical wishes just a few short years prior was now plain old boring reality. The only thing missing was for clever individuals to put it all together for use in various ways. Apparently, one of those individuals was bouncing on her heels right in front of her.

A smirk now formed on *Rachel's* own lips. "How?"

Pam sat down on the corner of the desk and explained the process, kicking her legs against its side and sipping her cola as she talked.

The genesis of the Internal Airbag actually began as a failed attempt at a nanobot-activated sunscreen. The lotion worked well on test volunteers, but a side effect was that there was no way for the body to rid itself quickly enough of the nanite's nitrogen byproduct and users reported irritation of the skin where it was applied. The company moved on to more immediately successful products, but CVT senior management decided not to kill the project altogether. Instead, they put it on the back burner for the purpose of further developing those "detrimental" side effects.

It was around that time when Pam was hired on at CVT as a research assistant. In a flash of brilliant counter intuitiveness, she was able to tweak the nanite design so that it *increased* the N2 output.

Taking quite a risk, she tried it out on herself one night in the lab. When the smiling CEO came down later that morning to personally offer his lab coat as a replacement for the one destroyed by Pam's inflating bust line, it was obvious that the company had a hit product on its hands. The marketing department immediately commenced brainstorming sessions and out of one of these meetings came the idea for the Internal Airbag (in addition to some rather obvious products). The project was moved to the top of the development heap and given the code name "Wren".

There were two major hurdles CVT had to jump through before they had a successful product, namely: inflation control and skin elasticity. Pam's expertise was brought to bear on both problems.

The way it worked was fairly straightforward. Once ingested, the nanites migrated to their preprogrammed destinations in the epidermis and subcutaneous fat cells. There they modified the cell walls and built several small elastic chambers in each cell. After networking together and mapping a user's body surface, they would cease acting autonomously and await further commands from an external digital radio transmitter.

The little machines worked their magic by producing nitrogen with a patented cold fusion process, injecting it into the artificial vacuoles. A cell could grow quite large as it was pumped up with the gas, yet normal cellular processes were not affected. The cumulative result of billions of cells inflating in unison was that a user appeared as if he or she were inflating like a balloon. With a little creative programming, the network (and thus the inflation) could be controlled very precisely.

Skin elasticity was controlled by a similar way but (theoretically at least) there were limits to this elasticity and as a precaution, safety mechanisms were built into the whole process. Testing had not yet revealed the upper size limit, however.

The one drawback to the whole deal was that inflation was too slow to be effective for its intended use. So the nanites were further modified to receive and make use of electromagnetic energy to supercharge their output. The radio transmission frequency was increased up into the microwave range and used to both communicate with and power the machines.

All that remained was to refine and miniaturize the control equipment and to run the system through a rigorous testing regimen. The trials went extremely well (Pam became particularly animated as she recounted her part as a volunteer test subject) and it was during this phase when the idea of using the equipment to go ballooning came to her. Only a minor change involving the cold fusion process was required for the nanites' design: instead of nitrogen, helium was now produced.

Upon being told of Pam's new development, CVT's owner enthusiastically blessed it.

For the final version of the standard Wren, the user simply ingested the nanobots - the transmitters being embedded into a vehicle's seat. These transmitters, in turn, were controlled by the car's central computer and activated during a crash.

Pam's new version differed somewhat, however. The transmitters took the form of two metallic armbands worn on the arms above each elbow. The armbands were actually small computers that communicated wirelessly with the little robots to both inflate and deflate the user - they provided some external power as well.

But the central control for the this version was actually the inflatee's brain; commands were made with pure thought. The armband transmitters were tuned into a user's brainwaves using standard human/machine protocols and the data link was via nerve induction along surface of the skin. Pam's last addition was to make use of one of the earlier versions of the transmitter plates to speed-up the initial inflation.

"So, whaddaya think?" asked Pam expectantly of her friend, resuming her bouncing as she stood back up.

Rachel paused, blinking as she contemplated what she had just been told. "I'm really not sure" she finally said.

"Do you want to try it?"

Rachel sat in the chair, staring silently at her smiling, bouncing friend.

"I assure you it's safe."

Finally, letting out a pronounced sigh as she rolled her eyes at Pam, Rachel agreed. "Oh, alright. If it will make you happy." The whole thought of the situation was so crazy and so off-the-wall that it simply had to be some sort of joke. It was only for the sake of not disappointing her friend that Rachel agreed.

"Great!" Pam exclaimed as she clasped her hands together. She was almost bouncing off the floor in her excitement.

The first order of business was to get the nanomachines into one's body. There were several ways to do this, direct injection being the quickest. But Pam thought it better to have her friend take them in orally, as Rachel was squeamish about needles. It was as simple as adding the nanite powder to Rachel's drink, but it would take about one half hour for the little machines to be in place and ready.

Pam stood up from the desk, walked over to the refrigerator, and retrieved the plastic container with the white powder in it. This elicited a knowing "Ohhhh..." from Rachel as she realized what it was.

Setting the container on the desktop, Pam pulled open the lid and produced a kitchen measuring spoon that had been hiding inside. She then plunged it into the white powder and brought forth a heaping spoonful.

"Give me your soda" Pam requested. Rachel complied.

Pam shook off some of the excess powder from the spoon then carefully poured the rest into Rachel's half full soda bottle. The mixture bubbled slightly and Pam put her hand over the opening, tipping the bottle upside down then right side up to mix the powder in. She then handed the bottle back to Rachel.

"Once you drink this, the nanites can only be deactivated by a special program at the lab. Is that okay?" Pam asked.

Rachel looked intently at the bottle and then cast an unsure gaze up to Pam. "They can be removed at any time?"

"Yes, at the lab. Trust me - I wouldn't do this unless it was safe."

Again, Rachel intensely pondered the soda bottle. After a moment of heated internal dialog, her face relaxed and she brought the bottle to her lips. In three quick gulps, the liquid was gone. The nanite base powder gave the cola a chalky taste, making it slightly bitter and she could feel a slight tickling in her throat.

Pam's face was beaming again and she bounced on her feet. "It takes about a half hour for the nanites to be ready. In the meantime, let's get everything set-up"

The first thing Pam asked of Rachel was to put on what she called a "Flight Suit". One had been readied for her in the restroom. "Be sure to completely strip down before putting it on" Pam cautioned. "You don't want anything getting in the way."

"Huh?"

"Think about it. Just how stretchy do you think cotton is, exactly?"

"Ohhh" Rachel pantomimed with her lips as she pondered the thought of her brassier constricting her chest as her blouse exploded and sent its buttons shooting across the room.

Pam motioned for Rachel to enter one of the bathrooms as she entered the other. Rachel closed the door behind her as she voice-commanded the lights on. An out-of-balance bathroom vent fan loudly whirred to life as the room lit up. Along the tiled wall, next to the sink was a white jumpsuit draped on a clothes hanger. A pair of tan slippers sat beneath. The fabric of the suit was woven, slightly stretchy, thin and had a smooth sheen to it. Rachel undressed, neatly folding her clothes and undergarments and placing them in a pile on the edge of the sink.

Once she had put the flight suit on, it was apparent to Rachel that it was much too large for her. In fact it looked more like a sleeveless skydiving jumpsuit as the pleats and folds of the material billowed out around her. The low cut front draped over her chest, emphasizing her now bra-less cleavage rather nicely. Without her underwear, her breasts swung pendulously under the fabric of the flight suit and the material lightly danced across her skin with the slightest of air movement. It was so thin and light that it almost felt as if she was still undressed.

The slippers fit perfectly, however and were very comfortable. Looking in the mirror, Rachel noticed that the suit had a green stripe that ran the length of the garment, playing hide and seek amongst the folds of excessively loose material.

From through the wall, she could hear Pam closing the cupboard beneath the sink and then open the door to her bathroom. With one final glance in the mirror, she opened her own door and stepped out. The light extinguished automatically as she left and the noisy fan was silenced.

Pam was standing at the desk in an almost identical suit and slippers, the only difference being that hers had a purple stripe. It, too, was much too large and it billowed in the air as she moved.

Correctly anticipating Rachel's first question, Pam explained "I made them from the same material used in my hot air balloon."

"Why so loose?" asked Rachel, grasping the pleats of excess fabric from around her midsection and holding them out to her sides.

"Believe me, you'll need the extra room" Pam explained.

"Ohhhh - gotcha." Rachel wondered just how big she would soon be getting.

Pam made for the door and motioned for Rachel to follow. "Come."

Once on the hanger floor, the pair walked over to rear of the CVT delivery van, the fabric of the suits rustling and flowing in the air as they walked. As they reached the rear of the truck, Pam opened the double doors and stepped up on the rear bumper to enter.

The interior of the vehicle was packed with computer equipment, cables, cabinets, and a small table along the left wall. Near the driver's seat was a large spool wrapped with a thick electrical cable.

"Did you design all of this?" asked Rachel.

"Some of it. Mostly, I just wrote the software." Pam opened one of the cabinets and removed a small aluminum briefcase, setting it onto the work table as Rachel looked on from the rear of the van. Inside the case, packed in gray egg crate style cushioning foam, were two sets of matching metallic armbands. Pam carefully removed one set and placed it on a fixture in front of the closest computer terminal.

"Rachel, I need you to place your hand here", Pam said to her friend, pointing to a black rectangular pad next to the console keyboards. "I have to tune your armbands to you." Rachel obliged by stepping up into the vehicle and placing her hand on the pad. Pam then tapped a few keys on the console and fiddled with the mouse, opening and closing different windows and dialog boxes on the computer's holographic display screen. "All done."

"That was quick" Rachel noted.

"Yeah, it doesn't take long" Pam said. Handing the armbands to Rachel she added "Go ahead and slip these on just below each shoulder. Make sure the power button faces outward."

Rachel accepted the golden colored metal rings and slid them up her arms. The bands were very thin, having a slightly oval cross section, and were highly polished and smooth. On each band, a single fine line was etched around the circumference, biased to one side and terminating in a small circle with a red dot in the center. Rachel surmised that this was the power button.

She put them on as instructed and noticed how snugly they fit; almost as if they locked into place.

"Now, while I move the truck, would you open the hanger doors?" Pam asked.

"Sure." Rachel had done this before and got a kick out of running the ancient electrical motor system.

"Don't open them all the way, to the first mark - maybe about fifteen feet or so."

Rachel nodded in acknowledgement as she climbed out of the van. The tickling sensation was gone from her throat, but now her skin was tingling and the movement of the billowing fabric gently caressing her skin gave her goose bumps. She made her way over to the control panel in the corner (the same one that Pam used to turn on the lights). Pam started the delivery van's diesel engine.

Reaching the control panel, Rachel found the correct switch for the set of doors on her side of the building and twisted it to the "OPEN" position. She could feel the ancient contacts inside the panel close and immediately a loud ringing klaxon sounded as the doors parted, moving slowly but deliberately as the segments slid along their iron tracks embedded in the floor. Pam leaned out of the open driver's side window of the truck and shouted the word "Recess!" above the harsh rumbling of the truck's engine, making an allusion to childhood school days.

Rachel rolled her eyes again as Pam laughed and smiled from the driver's seat.

Satisfied with the new opening in the wall, Rachel let go of the switch, stopping the door's progress. As the ringing klaxon was silenced and the remnants of the bell's pulsating din echoed off of the walls, only the pulsating rumble of the van engine could be heard.

Pam began backing the vehicle up to the opening while its safety alarm pulsated in a high pitch beep, warning nobody in particular to keep clear. Leaning out the open driver's doorway, she looked back toward the rear of the van while spinning the steering wheel with her right hand. Once it was maneuvered within twenty feet of the door opening, she stopped and shut down the engine. The acrid diesel fumes hung in the still air and Rachel scrunched up her nose in protest of as she walked back to it.

Pam disappeared from the driver's seat and into the back of the van, emerging with a large, heavy disk attached to a thick black cable. Gingerly stepping down off the back of the truck, she seemed to be taking great care in handling the object. The cable dragging behind her was unspooling from inside the van and she was now sporting a pair of the armbands as well.

Rachel met the giddy woman as she stopped short of the hanger door opening and examined the device in her arms. It was a white plastic disk several inches thick and about three feet in diameter. The edges were beveled and on one side were a series of concentric circles molded into the surface. On the opposite side were four small cylindrical protrusions scattered evenly about the perimeter. The cable entered the edge of the disk at a small rectangular box. Pam stooped down and placed the disk on the floor, her flight suit billowing around her.

"So that's the transmitter?" asked Rachel.

"Yeah - we used it in the first round of testing about two years ago" Pam explained. "The cable goes to the wireless control unit in the van that links to our armbands. How are you doing?"

"My skin is tingling all over" Rachel answered, rubbing a forearm.

"Good", Pam smiled. "When that feeling starts to fade, you're about ready".

Pam jumped back up into the van and Rachel watched as she worked the computer equipment. As she did, the individual rings in the transmitter began emitting a green glow that pulsated and blinked in a random fashion as a test program ran.

"Everything is looks good" Pam called out from inside as she reached up above the desk and pressed a button on one of the consoles that beeped and illuminated in response. "There. All set to go".

Pam exited the van by jumping off the back in a spirited manner and her smile seemed to light up the entire hanger. In her hands she held what looked like a coil of thick string. "Let me tell you how this works" she said, becoming a little more serious as she assumed the roll of instructor. Her expertise in what was about to take place clearly gave her confidence, though she fidgeted with the string as she spoke.

"To begin, you step onto the transmitter and press the power button on each armband. You'll feel a tiny jolt like a static shock when you do. It's normal"

Rachel nodded.

"That will initialize the nanites. From then on out, you are in control."

"So, what - do I just think 'inflate' and it happens?" asked Rachel.

"Not quite" Pam corrected her friend as she shook her head slightly. "The equipment cannot translate commands originating from your brain's speech center. You need to use its visual processing area" she explained. "You have to visualize what you want to happen."

Rachel nodded again.

"Don't worry" Pam assured her friend, "I'll go first and I'll talk you through when you go".

Rachel pointed to the coil Pam was holding. "What's the string for?"

"Oh - it's parachute cord, actually. I'm going to tie our wrists together so we don't get separated once we leave the hanger."

Suddenly, the evening's itinerary became crystal clear and Rachel chided herself for not seeing it earlier. Up to this point, she hadn't realized just where Pam's little adventure was to take them. Rachel's eyes widened and her face blanched as the blood drained from it. "What? W-we're going to do this outside?" she finally managed to stammer.

Pam failed to grasp the depth of Rachel's heightened unease and playfully castigated her friend. "Why did you think I asked you to open the doors, silly? Don't worry. It's okay - I know what I'm doing. Okay?" Again she bounced.

Rachel was almost catatonic with dread at this point and it was the only thing preventing her fleeing the building in a blood-curdling scream. but instead (as if hypnotized) she nodded her head slowly. Was she nuts? "Why did I just DO that?" she screamed in thought.

"Good!" Pam bounced out, grinning. "How is your skin?"

"The t-tingling is fading, l-like you said." Was she trembling, now, too? Rachel consciously wished the little machines would just take their damn sweet time, thank-you very much.

"Good!" And with that, Pam fished for the ends of the cord, each of which had a Velcro strap attached. Finding one, she proceeded to wrap it around her right wrist and test its security with a sharp tug. "Give me your left hand". As Rachel complied, Pam wrapped the Velcro of the remaining end around the nervous woman's wrist and then tested the tether's security as with her own. "All set."

Rachel's heart was pounding in her throat as she watched Pam step up onto the little platform and her mouth was drying out from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

"Stand over there" Pam said as she pointed to a spot about ten feet away from the transmitter. "That will keep you far enough away from the beam."

Again, Pam's ill-worded remark did not serve to comfort Rachel. "And if I'm not far enough away?" she thought to herself. But she nonetheless nodded meekly and did as she was told. Pam's voice seemed a distant echo in her mind now as the adrenaline fanned the flames of her fight-or-flight response.

At last, Pam noticed Rachel's panic. "Hey - it's alright. Take a deep breath. We don't have to do this" she said, stepping off the dais to gingerly approach.

Rachel almost took up Pam's offer to bow out right then and there. But instead, she closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and let it out slowly. "I'll be okay" she assured Pam as she reopened her eyes.

"Are you sure? Really, it's safe. I've done this many times - it's fun. I'm not going to get angry if you don't want to." Pam smiled in genuine concern.

Rachel smiled back. "I'm OK, just a little disoriented. Go ahead and show me."

"Then I guess it's show time" Pam announced as she stepped back up onto the transmitter. She reached up to each armband and pressed the red buttons.

What happened next took Rachel completely by surprise. In a matter-of-fact tone, Pam looked directly at her and said "Ya' know Rachel, I've always wanted a big chest like yours."

The comment was so off-the-wall that Rachel momentarily forgot her nervousness. Pam just smiled, though, and looked down at her chest. "Let's see what we can do about that."

She held her hands up to her chest, palms out, as if to present it. Rachel just continued to stare, the comment not quite sinking in yet.

The transmitter surface suddenly illuminated, its rings emitting the same green glow as before. Through the baggy material of Pam's flight suit, two lumps suddenly appeared on her chest. As the mounds pushed out on the loose fabric, it looked as if Pam was arching her back.

The lumps quickly became mounds and began to round out under the fabric. The suit's neckline separated a little, exposing the skin of her chest. Suddenly it became clear. Pam wasn't moving - her breasts were getting larger.

Rachel gasped audibly as she realized what was happening. Were they....inflating?

Hearing the reaction, Pam's smile broadened and she continued to look down at her swelling chest. As the inflation continued, the suit's fabric began moving across the surface of the mounds, separating the suit's neckline enough to reveal newfound cleavage beneath.

Not only were breasts swelling, but they seemed to be pushing slightly upward against the suit. Pam was no longer flat, but instead now sported a mammoth chest that was rapidly filling out the top of her suit. She looked up at Rachel with one eyebrow raised and then placed her hands over her new assets, stroking her new cleavage lightly with her fingertips. "Not bad, eh?"

"Like...balloons" was all Rachel could manage to say.

"Exactly". Pam's hands were steadily pushing out from her chest, carried by her growing bazooms. Her forearms were now wrapped around the sides of each and she interlaced her fingers, hugging herself as her elbows were slowly pushed out by the inflation. When she did this, Rachel could hear a little squeak as each breast rubbed against the other. Pam giggled.

Soon, her expanding chest had gotten so big that Pam could no longer hold her hands together. As she unlocked her fingers, her hands sprang apart. She then moved them up along the tops of each.

Pam now had the most impressive cleavage that Rachel had ever seen. Suddenly, she let go, moving her hands up and away. To Rachel's amazement, each breast bobbled upward, their flight only restrained by the fabric of the suit. It was interesting to see how it had been tailored to contain them in this manner.

The suit was no longer loose around Pam's chest, filling it out nicely with rounded curves at the top and loose fabric dangling below. Pam raised her chin slightly, speaking to Rachel over here floating breasts. "But wait, there's more!" she said, imitating a television announcer.

With this, she lowered her arms and placed her hands on each thigh, letting the loose fabric of the suit bunch up between her fingers. Just as with her chest, Pam's hips started to swell outward. Beneath the suit now were the unmistakably shapely forms of two inflating legs. The fabric disappeared between her fingers as the suit became more and more taut.

While the expansion of her hips and thighs steadily progressed, Pam reached around to her backside and Rachel watched in further amazement as that, too began to swell. The woman was looking more and more like a cartoony parade balloon.

Pam's swelling thighs were pushing her legs apart, making her knees press together and it was obvious that the suit was not nearly as roomy down below as up top. The fabric seemed to be almost fully stretched out around her hips and Rachel could hear it creaking along Pam's thighs, fighting the pressure. But just as quickly as it had begun, the inflation ceased.

It was amazing. From inside, two huge balloons pushed out from Pam's chest, trying to squeeze each other out of the suit's neckline. She had insanely curvaceous thighs leading into rounded hips, and Rachel could only speculate that Pam's midriff was still it's normal self; the loose fabric below Pam's chest hid it.

Pam repositioned herself on the transmitter platform, making adjustments for her newfound growth. Though her feet were now spread out farther apart than her shoulders, her inner thighs were still touching and the weave of the fabric rustled as each of her legs brushed against the other. "And now" she announced with a flourish, "without further adieu, the finale."

This time, she tilted her head back a little and closed her eyes as her hands moved to her stomach, pushing the folds of loose fabric flat against it. Gathered in her hands, the pleats in the fabric acted as mooring tethers for each of her pneumatic breasts and she pulled down on them, testing their buoyancy. When she let go, they floated back upwards to just below her chin.

But something else was happening, now. Rachel watched as her friend's hands began moving outward. This time, it was Pam's midsection that was growing. Her flat tummy now took on a pleasantly plump rounded shape as it swelled. Her chest seemed to be growing as well - not her breasts - it was as if she were breathing in deeply.

Rachel soon realized that Pam's entire upper body was inflating - from her shoulders down to below her belly. The growth was much faster than before and she could even hear a slight hissing sound emanating from her friend.

Pam's hands gently pressed into her belly as it swelled outward like an inflating weather balloon. Her breasts lifted a little more, separating as they began to obscure her face. As Pam grew, the hissing seemed take on a more hollow quality.

As her belly steadily pushed out, Pam bent her knees and began to straddle her inflating torso. Her entire front was ballooning out before Rachel's eyes and it was now too big for her to wrap her arms around. Beneath her inflated breasts, her chest expanded outward and farther down her suit pushed out between her thighs. Her arms rested along its side as the last of the loose suit fabric began to smooth out across the expanse of her belly. She was simply huge - a human Zeppelin.

Her swollen breasts had been pushed outwards and separated by more than a foot as her chest had inflated beneath. The suit's neckline was now a huge "V" that ran from around her neck and shoulders, over her boobs, and down to the top of her inflated belly. Rachel could easily see the sides of each breast through the huge gap in the material, resembling two soft, flesh-colored balloons sitting atop the woman's weather balloon belly. Her knees bent to either side as she straddled herself. It looked like she had taken an air tank and inflated one of those huge advertising balloons inside her flight suit.

The hissing stopped and Pam raised her arms in front so that they were level to the ground. As her upper arms pressed against her boobs, she opened her eyes and leaned forward toward Rachel, attempting to lay down on the transmitter pad. She was so big that there was no need to move very far before her belly touched down and once there, seemed to bounce slightly. It looked as if she was already quite buoyant.

Once down, she rocked forward, her belly now taking her entire weight. She moved her legs forward along it, like a jockey on a horse, and positioned her arms along her expanded breasts (the suit was doing an admirable job of keeping them down). She rested her hands on the top of each.

Though on her stomach, Pam's feet did not touch the ground and her eyes were almost at shoulder level with Rachel.

Rachel just stood there with her mouth agape.

Other than her derriere, Pam's back didn't look like it had inflated much. The final process seemed to restrict itself to her chest and belly and possibly her shoulders and upper arms. The flight suit's green stripes were now plainly visible, running from beneath each of Pam's arms down along her rib cage and flowing along her hips and thighs toward her feet.

"See? It's as easy as 'Inflate, 1-2-3" Pam gleefully announced. "And awaaaay weee gooo!"

Rachel heard the hissing noise again and then, as if on a hoist, Pam slowly lifted off the ground and hovered a moment as the parachute cord dangled from her wrist. Her swollen tummy reflected the bright green glow from the transmitter as she rose.

With another hiss, Pam continued upward, waving her hands in the air to maneuver herself around to face the hanger door opening. She was almost twenty feet in the air now.

"Rachel, will you walk me to the door?" she asked, floating in mid air.

Rachel felt like she was on autopilot as she spoke. The surrealness of what she was witnessing blotted out almost all thought except amazement. "S-sure. Which side?"

"Oh, the left I guess. There's a railing there." Rachel moved toward the line dangling from her friend's wrist, gathering up the slack in the cord as she moved. Looking up, all she could see was the huge inflated expanse of Pam's belly and the hanger's giant rafters above and beyond.

Gently, she guided her friend over to the door (only a dozen or so feet away). It was like Rachel was holding the string to a toy balloon. Pam bobbled as Rachel gently guided her along. As they reached the door, Pam grabbed for one of several railings that ran horizontally along the door. Rachel had not noticed these before on any of her previous trips out to the place and by their looks had just been recently installed.

With her left hand holding the bar, the ballooned woman effortlessly twirled herself around so that she faced the opening in the hanger doors. Craning her neck to see over her expanded chest, she announced that it was now Rachel's turn.

Rachel, still looking up at her friend in amazement, was dumbstruck. A thousand butterflies seemed to take flight in her stomach.

"It's Okay. You'll be fine." Pam reassured her. "Just go stand on the transmitter."

Reluctantly, Rachel obeyed her friend. She cast her gaze up over her shoulder as she shuffled over to the little platform, paying out the tether as she went. Arriving at the transmitter, she hesitated a moment, then stepped up onto it and turned toward Pam.

"Hit the power buttons, dummy."

"Oh, right". Carefully she reached up an pressed the button on her left armband and paused, waiting for the jolt.

"Both armbands have to be on before they initialize." instructed Pam.

Rachel reached up and pressed the switch on her right armband. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, it felt as if she had placed her hand on a running Van de Graaff generator and she jumped. The jolt was followed by a momentary but intense tingling over her entire body that made her shiver.

"You okay?" Pam called down to the wide eyed woman.

"Yeah. Uh, wow".

"You're ready, then. Give it a shot."

"Any suggestions?" Rachel inquired as she looked up at Pam.

"Start with your chest the first time out. It's the easiest, plus you'll find it makes balancing in the air easier."

Rachel stood on the transmitter for a moment with a look of concentration on her face, trying to visualize her breasts growing. "Nothing is happening."

"You're probably not giving it a good enough image. Think of two balloons expanding on your chest. Remember the costume you wore to that Halloween party? Try thinking of that."

Rachel concentrated on the memory of wearing the country singer costume and of how drunk she had gotten that night. Still, nothing happened.

"What gives?" she called out plaintively.

"No, no" admonished Pam. "Think of the balloons inflating. Remember how it looked as you blew them up inside the costume? Think of that again."

The mental image entered her mind as soon as Pam recounted it and immediately Rachel heard a faint hissing sound coming from down below her chin as she felt movement on her chest under the suit. Eyes suddenly wide again, she looked down and gasped. The surface of the transmitter was alight, enveloping her feet in a bright green glow. Her breasts had actually grown. "Oh my God!" was all she could blurt out as she reached up and grabbed them. Was it true? Was this really happening?

Pam snorted a knowing laugh at her friend's astonishment. "Keep going."

The inflation had stopped momentarily as Rachel's surprise had broken her concentration. Her heart was racing again as she began contemplating her new "powers". Again, she recalled the mental image of the inflating balloons. But this time, instead of the small party balloons she had bought for that particular occasion, she now imagined using those huge ones that her apartment manager put out by the street every morning for advertising.

The hissing enthusiastically resumed as Rachel felt the pressure in her breasts rise. The platform glowed even brighter than before. It felt as if someone was lightly caressing their entire surface of each breast with a soft blanket. She could actually feel her skin expand, billowing like a thundercloud in the summer sun.

As she pressed down on her breasts, the swelling caused her fingers to separate along their expanding surfaces. Her cleavage was showing much more noticeably through the widening neckline of her suit and she could feel the bottom of each swelling breast spread down over her rib cage and then along her abdomen. Her hands continued their journey outward.

Despite her burgeoning growth, she could feel that her boobs were still very soft, she found that her nipples became a turgid as the fabric slid across them. The suit top was filling out nicely now and she was already too big to clasp her hands together as Pam had done, so she was content to rest her arms along the sides of each boob. As she did this, she noticed something else - a lightness on her feet. She stood up on her toes briefly and then bounced back down onto her heels to test her buoyancy. There was no doubt about it - she was getting lighter.

The actual mass of each breast had not changed, but with their newfound lift they bounced easily in response to her test. Curious, she shook her shoulders back and forth to see the result. The pendulousness of their normal state was now almost gone and they bounced off of each other instead.

"You can feel it, I see" said Pam from up above.

"Oh my God!" (Rachel was a real wordsmith at this point), "It really works! I'm huge - it's like magic."

"Yes - of course it works. And, no - it's science, not magic." Pam smiled as she said this, happy that her friend seemed to be warming to the idea of becoming a human balloon. "Tim sure likes it when I play with the equipment. You should see what *he* can do with this stuff!"

Again, Rachel's concentration was shattered. She just stared up at Pam again. "You mean you two..."

"Oh yeah." Pam had a very devilish gleam in her eye. "Last week I brought this stuff to my place and we had a little fun" she giggled.

"Oooohhhh...." was all Rachel could manage to say.

"Yeah - 'oohhhh' is about right." Realizing what she had just said, Pam was a little embarrassed by the impromptu confession and quickly changed the subject. "Keep going - I'm getting lonely up here."

Rachel closed her eyes. With furrowed brow and a tongue planted firmly in the corner of her mouth, she visualized weather balloons and very tight blouses. The hissing returned as her chest seemed to surge out into her arms.

The upper portion of the suit was rapidly reaching it's limits and Rachel could feel it becoming tight around her inflating chest. Weary of going too far, she cleared her mind to halt the inflation. She felt even lighter on her feet now.

As she released her embrace from her around her chest, her breasts floated upward, rebounding as they encountered the suit's restraint. Looking down over her nose, all she could see was her deep, soft cleavage filling the v-neck as her breasts heaved toward the roof.

Again, she bounced on her heels to test how light she was. Her balloons generated enough lift that she found that she was able to lean quite far forward and back without falling over. Beneath her bust line, the suit was still loose and it cascaded below her chest like a waterfall.

"I'm filled with air?"

It was amusing how Rachel's excitement seemed to suddenly drop her IQ a few points. "No, silly - I told you - it's helium. And it's mostly *you* in there, anyhow."

For a moment, Rachel was lost in thought. "How big can I get?" she suddenly inquired.

"As big as you want. Even bigger without the flight suit." This answer made Rachel smile in a way Pam had never seen.

"Really?"

"Yes, quite big."

"Then, why the suits?"

"Because I don't want some farmer asking why there are two naked women standing in his pasture."

Pam's words echoed around the interior of the cavernous room as she explained from above. Rachel gazed up and nodded as Pam talked.

"When we land, we'll deflate and it will look like we're two lost skydivers from the airport. Besides, it's not like we need to airlift a tank or anything." Lift...a...tank. Pam cringed inside the moment she spoke that last phrase, suddenly realizing that she may have revealed too much about the project to Rachel. There still were many aspects of it that required secrecy and, friend or not, Rachel was not supposed to know them. Clumsily, she changed the subject again. "Try your butt and legs." Perhaps the comment would go unnoticed by her friend.

"Okay." This time Rachel found it less difficult to operate the system. She simply imagined her thighs inflating and filling up the suit. The mental image was rewarded by another hiss and the addicting sensation of soft pressure along the skin of her legs. The rising inflation in her now insanely curvaceous thighs pushed them together and began forcing her knees apart. Her buttocks blossomed out behind her in soft rounded curves while the smooth fabric rustled in accommodation. Just as with her chest, the hissing took on a more hollow sound as her legs puffed up and before long she found it necessary to move her feet apart (before they sprang apart by her swelling thighs).

As the suit began to tighten around her legs, she could feel her soft flesh being gently squeezed, trying to free itself from confinement. Just as she was beginning to become concerned about the tightness, the hissing ceased.

Bouncing up on her toes, she was amazed at how weightless she felt. "I feel so light on my feet, like I'm going to float away" she remarked as she explored her new body with her hands.

"Well, that's the basic idea."

Rachel's breasts were so huge that all she could see was swollen cleavage when she looked down, bordered by the glistening micro fibers of the suit. Not even the transmitter platform was visible. Through the loose cloth dangling over the edge of her bust, she could still feel her flat tummy. Exploring her new body, she slid her hands between her breasts and ribcage.

They actually did feel like balloons. They weren't tight, but instead were soft and warm and gently pushed back as she sank her hands into them. Even the surface of her skin looked softer, reminding her of rising pizza dough. And Pam was correct: it really was all her in there. She could feel every movement of her hands as she explored herself.

Her hips felt gargantuan as they flared out from her wasp-thin waist. So inflated were they that her arms would not dangle straight down as was normally the case. Instead, her forearms came to rest at an angle on their curving slope. And though the suit hugged her lower extremities in a tight embrace, she could tell that the flesh beneath was just as soft as that of her breasts.

Pam continued talking. "And it's a good thing you stopped when you did. It gets kind of uncomfortable if you make yourself any bigger."

Rachel looked up at Pam, furrowing her eyebrows. "You mean it hurts? I thought I could get really huge."

"It's just difficult to move and balance if they get too big. That's why the flight suits are cut the way they are. Can you move your legs okay still?"

Balancing on her left foot (a task she found rather easy now that there was so much less weight on it) Rachel picked up her right foot and bent her leg at the knee. The pressure did restrict her movement somewhat and she was surprised to find that her calf bounced against the back of her leg much sooner than when she stretched before a jog. It obviously had expanded as well.

She found that bending her leg at the hip took quite a bit more effort, but it was still manageable. When she relaxed her leg, it seemed to spring back straight. "Seems okay. It's a little stiff, but I can still bend."

"Good! This is it. Are you ready?"

Rachel raised her eyebrows and looked back up at her floating guide. "As ready as I'll ever be".

"Go ahead and inflate your tummy - that will finally make you buoyant enough to fly." Pam's toothy grin was so infectious that it actually had a calming effect on her pneumatic friend.

Gulping again, Rachel meekly registered an "OK", closing her eyes as she took another deep breath. Her hands found her belly through the cascade of loose fabric as she let the air back out of her lungs. She then held her arms out to her sides and slightly behind her the way Pam had done.

Once again, she conjured up a vision of an inflating balloon. But this time, imagined it slowly blowing up inside the suit over her stomach. Curiously, the sound of the hissing gas was muted and she could barely feel any expansion. With her eyes still closed, she called out to Pam. "Nothing is happening!"

"Visualize yourself taking a long deep breath that fills your lungs" Pam advised.

But before Rachel could try this, Pam blurted out a warning so quickly that it was almost incomprehensible. "Oh - wait - Stop! I've-got-to-warn-you-about-this-next-part."

The sudden alarm in Pam's voice motivated Rachel to rapidly open her eyes and stare expectantly up at Pam (who's own expression of panic was not the least bit helpful).

"WHAT?? NOW A WARNING??" Rachel shouted plaintively. Her heart once again leapt into her throat and she found herself short of breath.

"Um, Yeah. sorry - I should have told you earlier. This last part could be really dangerous." The nonchalantness of the remark was maddeningly obtuse, even by the measure of Pam's famous understatements.

"What do you mean, 'dangerous'??" Rachel's eyes were wide in panic as her imagination ran wild.

Slowly, as if approaching a ticking bomb, Pam explained. "Rachel, whatever you do...."

"WHAT!?"

"W-Whatever you do - I mean this - DO NOT...oh, God.."

Rachel squeaked in fear.

"Do not...do not allow the image of my hot air balloon being inflated enter your mind."

"WHAT?? WHA-" was all the poor woman could manage before she felt an enormous pressure in her belly. Instinctively, her hands flew back to it as it surged outward, the helium hiss loud and ominous. Not only had the image entered her head, but it was all she could think of.

"OH MY GOD!" She cried as the full meaning of Pam's warning played itself out in her mind. She was fixated on the image of the huge fabric balloon swelling up off of the launch field as the word "DANGER" screamed in her head as if from a loudspeaker.

Above the hissing gas, she could hear Pam shouting at her. "Rachel - oh my God! - get that image out of your head - you'll explode!"

"Explode" was a choice of vocabulary that was not very helpful at the moment.

Rachel shrieked as the inflation seemed to intensify. Indeed, it did feel like she was taking in a huge breath. Through her panic, she could feel her whole torso swelling, rounding out as it did and pushing out against the flight suit. Her breasts began to separate and lift as the flesh beneath them inflated. Her hands were quickly sliding off her belly, no longer able to reach around it. Even her arms and shoulders were feeling puffy as they, too, began to swell up.

She could feel her belly inflating below as her lower body pressed down against the crotch of the suit. Soon, it was pushing out against her thighs, forcing her legs to straddle around it as it swelled. Though still loose, the material of the suit was rapidly filling up and Rachel could feel it sliding across her burgeoning tummy. The loud hiss of the helium was becoming increasingly hollow and it seemed to echo around inside her.

"Oh my God, Rachel, no!" was all Pam could shout from above as she held her hands up against her temples. Her face was painted in horror.

By now, all Rachel could see before her now was the ballooning surface of her chest as it pushed her breasts aside. Each one was now spread far apart from the other as the fabric material stretched over them, thwarting their escape. Her belly was so big that she could not see over its horizon to the bottom of the "V" that had formed in the suit's neckline. Her chest was inflated almost all the way up to her chin and if she tilted her head down could actually make contact.

Then, above the flowing gas Rachel heard another sound - a low, angry groan. The suit was definitely reaching its limit now but she could not be sure that it wasn't her own flesh she heard.

As the groaning intensified, she shrieked again and balled her fists as she held her arms out straight. "So this is it" she thought. Dying would be bad enough, but the thought of losing her life by popping like a helium balloon had such an unreal finality to it that she was at a loss for what else to think. As the pressure surmounted, she clenched her teeth and shut her eyes, awaiting her fate.

And she waited.

The hissing continued and she waited some more.

And then.....nothing.

The hissing had stopped; she could feel that her body was no longer expanding. When this finally registered with her, she began to carefully calm herself down. Maybe she was going to be okay. But, what happened? She had fully expected to die only moments before yet still seemed to be in one piece? So, slowly then (as if a computer rebooting) she opened one eye and then the other.

Then she heard it. It hung in the air like a mischievous fairy. At first, it was a giggle that became a chuckle. Soon the chuckle became a laugh, the laugh became a snort, and finally, the snorting gave way to boisterous guffaws.

Rachel's relief quickly became anger and she turned her head upwards and glared at her tormenter. Pam's face was illuminated with delight as she laughed uncontrollably.

"That....wasn't....funny." was all Rachel could say through gritted teeth.

"Oh yes it was! You should have seen the look on your face." Pam was able to say between guffaws. "I told you it was safe! We didn't spend a billion dollars of R&D money for nothing, you know. The system will not let you rapidly inflate past a certain point. You can safely get a lot bigger than that, anyhow."

Rachel continued to glare up at Pam. And then, slowly at first, the anger seemed to leach out of her. As she tried to fight the smirk forming on her lips, the trickle of departing anger became a deluge and she began laughing in relief.

The Power of Suggestion: that was the oldest trick in the book and Rachel had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. It was a trick in the same vein as telling a friend not to think about swallowing. Immature, yes. But oh so very entertaining for the prankster.

"You looked so uptight, I just had to have a little fun. You were taking too much time anyway."

"I'm gonna get you for that, Pam."

"Sure you will." came another friendly taunt. "But first, you need to finish. Lean forward and try to touch the ground."

Still somewhat shaken, Rachel leaned forward. With her knees bent and spread far apart by her giant inflated torso she was just barely balancing. In fact, she was only managing as well as she was because of the tremendous upward lift her newly inflated body was creating.

Holding her hands straight out over her sides, she slowly teetered forward. Before she was expecting it, her belly touched the edge of the platform and then bounced back up. This caused her feet to slip and she rolled forward while instinctively throwing her hands in front to catch herself when she hit the floor.

But she never did. Instead of falling on her face as she was expecting, her entire body rotated forward and bounced off the platform. She found her self face down and resting on her stomach. Her legs straddled it as her rear-end rose high into the air. It was a very uncomfortable position with her head so far down.

Seeing this, Pam called out some more advice. "Inflate your breasts a little more - that will bring your head back up."

Rachel complied. The inflation came easily now and as she pictured the balloons again was rewarded by the familiar hiss of the gas. As her body rotated back and her head leveled with her back, she realized that her stomach was no longer touching the ground. The sudden cognizance of this elicited a stifled shriek as she thrust her arms out in front as if to reach for the floor. Slowly she was rising off the ground over the transmitter.

Coming to her senses, she halted the futile attempt to grab the floor. "Hey, I'm floating!"

"Of course you are! Don't stop - you're still over the platform. Inflate a little more and get up here."

Rachel visualized her swollen body pressing out farther against the suit and was rewarded by more hissing. Slowly upwards she floated - 3, 5, 8 feet as passed above roof of the company van. As she tried to get a glimpse of the floor directly below, her butt inflated, tilting her forward. She corrected herself by simply willing herself to roll backwards. This inflated her breasts and brought her level again.

"Ahh - you're getting the hang of control, I see." Pam was impressed by how quickly her friend was learning. As the tether cord left the ground and arched between them, Pam began taking up its slack as she held herself in place with a foot hooked over the railing. Rachel continued to rise and she spun around in a lazy circle as Pam pulled her closer with the tether. After a few moments, the two women found themselves face-to-face. As Rachel reached for the horizontal bar, Pam transferred the lasso to her right hand and grabbed hold of the bar with her left.

The two women were quite a sight as they hovered near the vertical edge of the opened doors. They floated there as if taking a break at the side of a swimming pool, their huge bodies bouncing off the door when they made contact. Other than their massively swollen cleavage, it looked as if each had caught a ride on a weather balloon and drifted up to the door. Rachel found it very easy to maneuver and rotating herself took almost no effort. Floating there, it was almost as if they had gone scuba diving in a giant water-filled cavern and Rachel felt as if she could go for a swim in the air.

"I still can't believe this is happening" she finally managed to say, breathless.

To Pam, the feeling was completely understandable. "Sometimes, neither can I. It gets addicting - I've been coming out here several times a week. Too bad I can't log the flight time!"

Rachel smiled and nodded her head in agreement.

"Are you ready to go for a ride, now?"

Rachel briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay. I think so."

Pam smiled and concentrated for a moment. With a slight hiss, she let go of the railing and floated up over Rachel who watched as the woman's hugely inflated belly passed over her. Pam pulled her self along the door hand over hand. "Follow me."

Rachel spun herself around and worked her way toward the opening, following below and behind her friend. As Pam reached the edge, she rotated so that she could see Rachel and she let go of the looped tether. The slack fell, suspended between the two. "OK, - I'll move around the edge to the outside and let go. Keep right behind me. Once we're outside, you can use the arm bands to ascend or descend. They don't have as much power as the regular equipment, so the inflation happens more slowly. It's very calm out so we won't go far. I'll call for a ride when we're down." Pam pulled her hair aside to show Rachel the phone attached to her ear. "Okay?"

"Uh..." This was it. They were actually going to leave the safety of the building.

"Trust me - it'll be alright."

With a smile, Pam bobbled once again as she rounded the corner. The last glimpse Rachel had of Pam was of her fingertips she pushed off from the edge of the giant door. From outside, she heard Pam call out for her to follow.

It was only a few feet to the edge and Rachel approached cautiously. Peeking around it she saw the blue sky above and the cord dangling from her rising friend. The door edge seemed to go on forever vertically in both directions. "I feel like I'm going to fall if I let go."

Pam called down "I know! The same thing happened to me the first couple times. Its normal. Just let go!" Her voice sounded flatter now that it no longer bounced off the hanger walls. Rachel could see that she was slowly rising.

It was like trying to find the first step on a ladder when climbing down off a roof. One knew it was there, but without being able to see it, could not be sure it really was. That first step was an act of faith. Rachel slowly worked her way around the edge so that she was now outside and the fading paint on the corrugated sheet metal of the door stared back at her from a few inches away. She closed her eyes.

She paused for a moment and then pushed the door away. Nothing seemed to happen.

"Geez, open your eyes, dummy!"

As soon as she did, Rachel gasped and tried to reach for the door. but it was too late - she was now almost thirty feet up and well away from it. The ground was slowly receding below. Pam was slightly above her, smiling as she looked down.

Rachel could see the parked car in front of the door. The concrete slabs of the apron made a checkerboard pattern that faded into the distance along the vast expanse of the ancient facility. Even the weeds between the cracks began to disappear and Luther's two airplanes seemed much smaller from up here as well. Up above, the sky seemed bluer than ever.

"Inflate a little more and get up here" Pam called down. Looking up, Rachel concentrated and thought of the hot air balloon again. The helium flowed into her and she ascended. This ballooning, it was becoming very easy.

Before long the pair were level with the curving surface of the hanger roof and rising higher as they drifted off in the still air. Once above the roof, the sun bathed them in its warm glow. Pam greeted Rachel as the two reunited. "Ready? Let's go higher. The view is great!"

By now, all Rachel had to do was to think about following her friend upward for the effect to occur.

Pam gathered the slack in the tether so she could face her friend as she caught up. "You helium floater, you! You're a natural!"

"I think I could get to like this." She really could, Rachel thought as they floated towards the highway.

"I knew you would. I think it's going to be rather popular when we introduce it."

"Ya' think?"

The two women laughed. As the sun made its way toward the horizon, the pair floated off into the distance.

 

EPILOGUE
********

Further down the highway and out of site behind a dilapidated billboard, sat a parked rental car. Inside was a burly, darkly complected man wearing an ill-fitting brightly patterned shirt, a bushy moustache, dark sunglasses, and several days of beard growth.

His mouth was wide open in astonishment as he slowly lowered a pair of binoculars to his lap. On the passenger seat next to him was an old film camera with a high-powered telephoto lens and in a near panic, he fumbled for it, finally grabbing ahold from among the used potato chip bags, road maps, and empty soda cans littering the area. Once he untangled the shoulder strap from around it, he brought the viewfinder up to his eye and furiously began snapping pictures of the strange sight off in the distance.

"Da boss eez-a not gonn-a believe 'dis" he muttered as the camera clicked and whirred. "Dis meen promoshun". Visions of a new uniform and sunglasses danced in his head as he softly hummed the Elbonian National Anthem to himself.

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• I'd Rather Be Flying
• floating
• helium

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