Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1)

by Burger, Jeffrey

  "Oh, I wouldn't say that," interrupted Gant, "I've been thinking, this ship has three shuttles... and only one shuttle pilot. If you would be interested, the simulator could teach you how to fly shuttles, and it's not really all that different from your kind of flying... besides, it would compensate for your food and quarters."

  "You mean like a job?" queried Brian.

  "You could call it that," said Gantarro, smiling, "but unless we're at a scheduled planet tour-stop, there isn't much to do besides relax and enjoy our hospitality until we hit port. Pretty easy actually."

  "Well, we weren't really planning on staying," commented Jack. "We appreciate the offer and at any other time, believe me, I'd take you up on it..." he glanced at Maria and back at Gant, "but we have unfinished business at home. So if you'd just drop us off..."

  "Where?" Asked Gant.

  "Where we came from, of course," answered Jack.

  Gant shook his head, "Impossible."

  "What...? Why?"

  "Because that was almost a week ago, Jack. We're almost two systems away from Earth already. To return, you would delay our cruise schedule two more weeks, and we're behind as it is..."

  "But we just got here yesterday!" protested Jack.

  Gant shook his head again. "Five days ago. We didn't know you were here till yesterday when we noticed an overage on our weight. Our guidance system for our shuttles must have drawn in your aircraft before we departed."

  "You mean we slept for four days?" asked Paul.

  "It appears so," answered Gant.

  Jack cleared his throat. "Just how long will it be, before we can return home then?"

  Gant rubbed his chin, calculating the equivalent earth time. "Well, considering the cruise line doesn't always run voyages along duplicate routes... and including our return time... hmmm, anywhere from about twelve months to maybe, oh, say four years."

  "You're kidding," said Brian, deadpan.

  "No," said Gant, sipping his tea.

  "Geez... isn't there a faster way?" asked Jack.

  “Yeah," added Paul, "I figured maybe a month or so, but one to four years? That's nuts!"

  "Look," said Gant, "pilots are hard to come by out here, they make exceptional money, get a tremendous amount of respect, travel whenever and wherever they please and generally lead privileged lives."

  "You make it sound so rosy," quipped Pappy.

  "I may be exaggerating, but not by much. Besides, I thought Humans were the pioneer type, ready for a challenge, fearless and all that..."

  "Well, we are..." said Jack, "but usually by choice."

  "Don't be so picky, my friend, an opportunity is an opportunity, no matter what form it comes in. Recognize it for what it is and take advantage of it."

  "No offense, Captain, but I guess it doesn't seem like we have much choice, does it?" remarked Jack. “We're pretty much in it for the duration... whatever it happens to be.”

  "If you're in, I'm in," said Paul, “like you say, it's going to be a while...”

  The others concurred. "Sounds like an adventure to me!" said Mike with a grin. Brian glowered at him, he was going to miss at least one whole football season, and a Superbowl to boot.

  Gant smiled. "Good, it's settled then, we'll find quarters for each of you. On level three, of course, that's the same as the flight deck. Oh, I just thought of something! Your air ships are probably worth a great deal to a collector, I'll see if I can dig up a reliable dealer for you before we get back to port. That alone could set you all up quite well!"

  The four pilots agreed things could be worse and decided to make the best of things, after all, this was going to be home for a while. After some thought and contemplation, Steele was beginning to like the idea of selling Stephen's B25 out from under him and living well off the cash proceeds... It seemed like more than a fair trade for the Shelby Cobra he left sitting in that bastard's hangar. There was a feeling of ironic justice to that.

  Notified by a crew member he was needed on the bridge, Gantarro excused himself and departed, leaving the pilots to finish their breakfast and discussion. Fritz, looking freshly groomed, trotted up, tail wagging, tongue lolling, and promptly began to beg for food. Jack frowning, feigned anger, "Where have you been, mister?!" In turn, Fritz feigned hurt feelings, he lowered his tail and ears, put his face on Jack's lap and blinked his big brown eyes. It was a contest of wills and Jack was losing, he couldn't stare into those beseeching brown orbs and not react. Fritz knew this too, and his tail began to tic slowly from side to side.

  The moment Jack's face cracked to a smile Fritz was up in his lap licking his face, tail wagging madly. "Ok, Ok, I forgive you, you rotten mutt! Now get off me and behave like a gentleman!" Jack slipped Fritz two large pastries and a bowl of milk which were devoured with pleasure.

  Raulya and Myomerr went on duty after breakfast, leaving Jack, Brian, Paul, Mike and Fritz to explore the ship, unguided. Maria seemed to have vanished on her own and none of the pilots seemed to have any comment.

  ■ ■ ■

  After shuffling a guest or two, the pilots were assigned four consecutive rooms in a corridor on the third level, overlooking the forest in the Ecosphere. The Ecosphere Lounge, one level, almost directly below, quickly became their favorite place to meet and dine. The four fliers sat at a table in the lounge after inspecting their newly assigned quarters. Jack moved their drinks aside and unfolded a brochure he received from an olive-skinned ship's porter. Spreading it on the table revealed a series of maps for the different levels of the ship.

  "Well, looks like we're here..." said Jack pointing to the Ecosphere Lounge on the map.

  "What's that? said Mike, pointing at a rather large room toward the bow.

  Most of the symbols on the map were self-explanatory, but this one was completely unfamiliar, "Don't know," said Jack pulling on his lower lip. "Looks important though, it's on five levels according to this map." Jack looked through the index that had been printed in English for the new human passengers. "Says here, it's the C.H.A.I.R. room."

  "Oh, yeah sure, the chair room, I know what that is..." Brian rolled his eyes and slurped his drink.

  "You do? What is it?" asked Warren.

  "I was being sarcastic Mike, don't be an idiot, I haven't the foggiest idea..."

  "There's a note here, says CHAIR stands for Computerized Holographic Assisted Interactive Room."

  "Oh, that's a big help," said Pappy.

  Jack shrugged, "So, let's finish our drinks and go explore, that's the best way to find out."

  The men up-ended their drinks and stood. "I say, chaps," Jack mused, "shall we walk 'round, or take the rail?" His attempt at an aristocratic English accent was excellent.

  "That's a bit of a far plod, old boy, Wot?" Pappy grinned at Jack, pleased at his own attempt. "Time is of the essence, I daresay we should take the rail!"

  Jack nodded approvingly, "Well done."

  "Then we're off!" Brian suggested.

  "Tally-Ho!" added Mike.

  Fritz bounced excitedly in circles and bounded off to lead the way to the air tubes.

  Startled offworlders stepped away, relinquishing the awaiting air car to the excited Shepherd and his four human companions. Fritz jumped in claiming two seats all to himself as Jack and the others seated themselves, waving to the apprehensive aliens to find seats. None moved, declining his invitations. Shrugging, Pappy punched in the destination and the car sped away, entering the Ecosphere and passing between the trees and foliage. Fritz leaned over the side, tongue hanging, to let the wind whip his face and watch the birds zip past. Jack could see the waterfall cascading into an emerald pool of water on the far side of the forest. Several nude forms frolicked in the spray, but try as he might
, Jack could not see more detail through the trees.

  Fritz bounded out of the cockpit of the air car as it hissed to a stop and slid on the carpet in front of the CHAIR suites, scattering strolling offworlders.

  "Fritz!" Jack snapped, "behave yourself!" the Shepherd shook his hair into place and sat, obediently waiting for Jack. The four pilots climbed out of the car and headed for the entrance to the CHAIR suite with the Shepherd following closely behind.

  Jack found it difficult not to stare at some of the more bizarre looking offworlders and voiced this quietly to the others who agreed whole heartedly, laughing. It was quite amazing to see the different shapes, sizes and colors. The four men were quickly becoming good friends, and Jack was enjoying the camaraderie.

  The entry to the CHAIR suite slid open, and the pilots strode through the archway, into a hallway lined with art and colorful graphics that oddly enough, resembled movie posters. Fritz wandered down the hall to sniff an unusual piece of sculpture, something that resembled a human but had a technical flair to it. Cautiously, the wary Shepherd walked around it, inspecting it in great detail. Jack watched, unmoving, "You pee on that buddy and I'll smack you!" Brian, Pappy and Mike instantly burst into laughter. Fritz broke his concentration and ambled away sheepishly, watching the statue over his shoulder as if he expected it to move.

  Still laughing, the pilots turned their attention back to the posters. Fritz growled a deep-throated snarl and the four men spun, Jack's hand already on the butt of the 1911 at his hip. "I'm terribly sorry if I've startled you," said the moving statue, "I would have greeted you sooner, but I was doing a systems check when you entered."

  Jack called Fritz back to his side, who glowered at the figure over his shoulder disapprovingly. "Great way to get shot, pal... say, what are you anyway?" Jack suddenly realized his rudeness. "No offense intended."

  "Oh, none taken... my name is CABL 5..." His skin was a pallid gray-white, one eye socket held an infra red photoreceptor and he only had hair on the very top of his head, a wavy shock of gold. In various places, small tubes or strands of wire protruded from his skin only to re-enter somewhere else. His voice sounded metallic and raspy.

  "What kind of name is CABL 5?" interrupted Brian.

  "Well, it's not a name exactly. It stands for Computer Assisted Biological Lifeform, and I am proud to be your host today and every day, here at CHAIR."

  "What does that mean... exactly?" asked Pappy, rubbing his chin.

  CABL 5 began to explain the word "host".

  "No, no, no," said Pappy, "your name, what you are..."

  "Oh! Well, I was born a lifeform, and in adulthood, altered by means of electro-micro surgery. Wherein mechanisms, electronics and bio-chips are permanently added to my being, so I may function more efficiently."

  "You mean you elect to have this done?" Jack felt slightly indignant that an intelligent being would allow this to be done to his or her own healthy body for the simple sake of efficiency.

  “I do not know, all memories prior to the bio-work are erased."

  "Wow." The pilots exchanged puzzled glances. "Um, look CABL old boy, tell us about CHAIR, Ok? What is it?"

  CABL 5 took the men into an open CHAIR suite and closed the door. In the small room about nine foot by nine foot, sat a solitary hi-back, padded leather chair with a control panel on a pedestal. The pilots clustered around the chair as CABL 5 switched on the control panel. The room lights dimmed as CABL 5 initialized the panel and turned into a three-dimensional holograph of an eerie, alien landscape. Brian stepped away from the chair and reached forward but touched nothing. CABL 5 explained; "Computerized Holographic Assisted Interactive Room..."

  "Ok, Ok, we get that, and the image is fantastic, granted..." said Brian excitedly, "but what does it do?"

  CABL 5 motioned to the seat, "If one of you would please be seated..." Mike jumped forward and plopped into the seat. CABL 5 continued. "As you can see, the computer's information is converted into a very realistic, three dimensional world, including the vehicle in which you have chosen to use." Jack looked down to see he was standing through the middle of a wing on Mike's aircraft. "Now, it's called interactive because you control the program," he moved the acceleration handle and instructed Mike to use the control stick on the module. The aircraft cruised above the surface of the cratered red planet. The men were extremely impressed and said so. "You can also smell and hear if there is an atmosphere to do so, this is a dead planet, so there is none in the program. You may also change the program, at will," CABL 5 punched some memorized numbers and Warren was flying an intercept fighter into a dense interstellar battle. "There are over a half a million cataloged titles, and I can assist you in any choices, or even help you write a new one." Impressed with his demonstration, the pilots thanked CABL 5 and since it was upon dinner time, excused themselves, promising to return soon.

  Mike was exuberant. "Man! That was soooo cool!"

  "No doubt!" added Brian, bouncing as he walked.

  Jack grinned wildly, "Like the ultimate video game! Can you imagine the fortune you could make with that back on earth!?"

  Paul shook his head in disbelief, "Simply amazing..." The four men and Shepherd strode down the corridor headed for the air tubes, acting a little like overgrown juveniles.

  "Well, I know where we're gonna' spend our spare time..." said Jack, as he pushed the button on the wall to summon an air car.

  "Wanna' come back after we eat?"

  "Sure, Mike, don't see why not!"

  An air car, partly full, hissed to a stop and they piled in, Fritz lay across Jack and Brian. It was dinner time. The tube system and corridors were busy with passengers headed for restaurants in different sections of the ship.

  The pilots disembarked the air car at the exit for the Ecosphere Lounge and strolled down the carpeted ramp. A tall gangly waitress who recognized the pilots met them on the balcony. "Hello, boys, the Captain left a message, he wants you to meet him in the Nova Restaurant on level five." She explained how to get there, they thanked her and departed.

  ■ ■ ■

  The Nova Restaurant was rather elegant, and a formally dressed maitre'd escorted the pilots to the Captain's table. The maitre'd looked disdainfully at Fritz as they made their way through the restaurant, wondering how the patrons of his fine establishment were going to react to such a hairy beast.

  Two men were already seated and involved in a cheerful conversation with the Captain. "Aahhh, gentlemen, good of you to come. I took the liberty of ordering for you, I hope you don't mind. You'll find the food here is beyond compare." Handshakes were exchanged across the table as the men found their seats and were introduced to those already present; Professor Walter Edgars and his nephew Derrik Brighton. Professor Edgars, a noted British historian, spent over fourteen years teaching history and anthropology at Cambridge University. His truly human appearance and British identity, gray tweed jacket, pipe, salt and pepper hair, aristocratic accent, revealed nothing of his true off-world origin.

  As a historian and anthropologist widely recognized through more galaxies than he could remember, he often spent time on a planet doing research. He found a school of higher learning was often the best place. Determined to track not only the history and ancestry of individual planets, but of entire galaxies, he discovered the migration and colonization of solar systems by early explorers, widespread. In his one hundred ninety-odd years of research, he found reason to believe almost all life in the universe was linked with a common origin. He wanted to find that origin, the place Universal Historians referred to as Base Alpha. Though it was a hotly disputed theory, more historians believed it than not.

  Born to Professor Edgars' late wife's sister, Derrik Brighton was indeed, an earthling. In an attempt to pull himself above his
rather dull middle-income upbringing, Derrik joined Great Britain's, Royal Air Force. Standing a slender six-foot even, with ginger hair and trimmed handlebar mustache, Derrik did fairly well with the ladies. He enjoyed the added notoriety and attention that a RAF uniform bought with it and was deeply saddened when discharged after being wounded in combat.

  First Lieutenant Derrik Brighton was flying a close ground support mission over the Falkland Islands in a Harrier Jump Jet, when it was struck by ground fire. Wounded and with a heavily damaged, smoking aircraft, he refused to abort his mission and completed his run. Determined to return the crippled Harrier back to safety, Brighton was forced to ditch in the ocean, just short of his carrier when the aircraft's leaking fuel tanks ran dry. For his heroism, he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and discharged honorably for medical reasons. Unstimulated and bored as a civilian pilot, Derrik jumped at the chance for the excitement of interstellar travel when his uncle revealed his true identity.

  Personally, Derrik was a neat and meticulous person, brought up in the strict `stiff upper lip' style of English tradition. His gray-green eyes were expressive and mischievous. At a late forty-something, his square jaw and chiseled features had lost none of their appeal, in fact, had probably improved with age. His short wavy ginger hair and handlebar mustache conjured images of the dashing young British pilots of WWII. Blessed with a sense of humor, although dry and occasionally a bit macabre, his personal belief was that life itself was a challenge. Challenges entailed risks and without risks, life would not be worth continuing, as man only endures to conquer more challenges.

  Jack, Pappy, Brian and Mike found the Professor fascinating and Derrik very likeable. In the middle of dinner, Maria appeared, drink in hand and plopped into a chair at the table, waving a sloppy hello. All conversation halted.

  "You're drunk," said Jack with quiet distaste.

  Maria shook her head slowly, "Nnooo noo..."