Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (28 page)

Ok,
thought Jack, I walked into that one. He was not surprised
that
Voorlak knew about Earth history or George Washington. Many
offworlders he'd met so far, knew segments of Earth's history and
found it fascinating. Ok, so I'll bite, he thought. "So how do
I become like George Washington?"

"Well..."
said the old man, "let's see... it was quite an amazing
chain
of events back home, that deposited you and your friends on this
ship, was it not?" Jack had to admit it was. "Are you a
positive thinker?"

"Well,
I like to think so..."

"Logical?"

"Yes."

"Good!
Then you believe everything happens for a very distinct
reason?"
It was a statement more than a question, and Jack agreed, not
completely sure where this was all going. "Right, now then,"
he took a deep breath as if all this was requiring a great effort,
"since destiny, fate, whatever you wish to call it, has taken
such great pains and effort to bring you here, then isn't it logical
to say that you must be fairly important to the general scheme of
things?" Jack conceded to this also. "Good, now, the
crucial part. Then it is being
here
that makes you important!" The old man paused to sip his brandy
and let it slide down his throat, warming him. "This means your
better choice of destiny must be
out
here
.
You will choose, Jack, between
Captain
Steele... or our old friend Herman Shimp."

For
the first time since he entered this room, Jack smiled. "Ok I
get
the
point, but why me?"

"You
are a natural leader, my boy. If you lead, your friends will
follow,
you will never be alone. But make no mistake, Jack, the course of
history is rarely an easy one... just ask George Washington."
He smiled and took a moment to adjust his cloak as if he was
preparing to meet royalty. "I know you better than you think.
You would never be satisfied in a life like Herman Shimp... too
boring, no excitement, no risks, nothing to strive for." He put
the empty brandy glass on the bar and moved over to the child-pilot,
some two thousand years his junior.

Jack
rose from his seat without thinking why and Fritz stood at his
side.
The pilot stared into the wizened old face and tried to fathom the
depths of knowledge that lay behind it, but was able to glean no
more than the feeling that he had met this man before, and his words
were to be taken as the complete and utter truth.

The
old man bent down and extended his hand to the Shepherd who
stared
at him with shining black eyes. Fritz leaned into the stranger's
hand as it scratched his head and felt no fear or threat. With one
last pat, Voorlak straightened up. "He is a remarkable
animal... he loves you more than life itself," he shook his
head, amazed at the unselfishness. "He would defend you to his
death." He could not bring himself to tell the young man that
some day this might come to pass. They stood face to face once again
and the Ancient pulled the hood over his head in preparation to
leave.

"Wait,"
said Jack reaching out. There were so many questions, but
surely
he would know that...

The
old man placed his hand on the pilot's shoulder. "I'm glad
we've
had a chance to meet, Jack. I know now, you will make the right
decisions. Of that I have no doubts." Jack felt a strange
feeling of elation that accompanied the hand touching his shoulder.

"But..."
Jack had one last question.

Voorlak
squeezed his shoulder. "Ah yes, your mother and father,
I
feel your concern. Go see them if you must, for you must reconcile
your past before you can live your future." He adjusted his
garments, pulling them close as if he was bracing for the cold. "Now
I must go... sit, finish your brandy." He turned and moved to
the wall of the suite that would face the outer skin of the ship.

"Will
I see you again?"

"Yes."
The Ancient's form seemed to dissolve like a fog as he
reached
the wall and passed into deep space. "Tell n
o
one
of my visit, Captain..." said the fading voice from the
darkness. Then Jack was alone, alone except for the Shepherd with
the shining eyes, who was sound asleep at his feet.

All
in all it was a pretty spectacular departure, as stage exits
go.
For some strange reason, Jack expected no less, but was still
curious enough to walk over and touch the wall through which Voorlak
had disappeared. It was, of course, solid. Jack sat back down and
sipped the Ditarian Brandy, felt its warmth, took a deep breath and
reviewed the conversation. So, he would have his own ship to
command...
that
stuck
in his mind. He'd wanted to ask how soon, when, what kind... but
these were just a few of the many questions he had that went
unanswered. He somehow lapsed into dreamy thought about home and all
the things he missed most. It seemed like an entire lifetime ago.

"Jesus,
dinner!" said Jack, jumping to his feet. He had opened his
eyes
and in a moment of panic, realized he had no idea how much time had
expired. It seemed like hours. He had awakened Fritz with a start
and the Shepherd stared at him indignantly. Jack put his empty
brandy glass on the bar next to the other and headed for the door,
the yawning dog at his side. It wasn't until he stepped out into the
well-lit corridor that he realized he was not on Promenade 5. He
should be facing the open expanse of the upper Ecosphere because
Promenade 5 rings it like a giant balcony. All the Promenades do.
Instead, he was looking at the opposite wall of a corridor... his
corridor! Fritz looked as confused as Jack.

Jack
turned around and stared at the door to his own suite. Now
he
was truly confused! Had he imagined it all? Was it a dream? He
rushed back inside and turned on the lights. Two empty, but used,
brandy glasses sat on the bar. "Too weird," he said to the
dog, who stared at him with unblinking eyes. He decided they'd
better get up to the restaurant. Maybe somebody else knew what the
hell was going on.

Exiting
the lift on Promenade 5, Jack and Fritz hustled past the
shops,
barely casting a glance to their surroundings. Knowing it would
prove nothing but wanting to see a familiar face, Jack looked for
the woman selling the living crystals. She was not to be seen. Had
he imagined that too? When they had left the shops behind, Jack
studied the other doors and entryways they passed, they all looked
the same. Which one was it? He felt like he was in the Twilight
Zone. He shook the feeling off and with the Shepherd at his side
headed to the restaurant just ahead, hoping, by some miracle,
everything might return to normal or at least have some reasonable
explanation.

The
Maitre d' smiled politely at Jack as he entered the Nova
Restaurant
and said nothing about the Shepherd who sauntered in wearing the
squadron's colors on a scarf tied around his neck. Jack decided
there was more to the shiny gold wings on his chest, than he'd
originally expected.

Even
in the expansive and crowded restaurant, it didn't take Jack
more
than a couple of seconds to spot the Captain's table. In fact, it
was pretty hard to miss. Four smaller tables had been arranged to
form a giant square with the middle open for the food servers. It
reminded Jack of a Renaissance painting he once saw, depicting King
Arthur’s dining hall. The noise and bustle around the table
was fairly considerable as the busy waitstaff bought steaming
platters of food and the twenty-plus occupants of the table, laughed
and joked unabashedly. Food scraps and litter on the floor in the
center of the square looked to be remnants of a minor food fight
recently subsided.

Jack
scanned the faces seated around the table as he approached.
Gantarro
was there, of course, sitting at what appeared to be the head of the
table, his bridge officers sitting on his left and the group of
pilots on his right. Jack saw Raulya and Myomerr sitting among the
ship's staff, and Derrik's uncle, Professor Edgars near the pilots.
In fact, there were only a few people at the table he didn't
recognize. Maria was sitting next to Brian and Jack assumed the
empty seat between her and Gantarro was his.

"Well,
that was fast," said Maria as the pilot took his seat.

"Huh?”

"You
missed it `ol boy," sniffed Derrik. "Too bad, a right bit
of fun
it
was, too!"

"Got
her good!" said Gant through a mouthful of food.

Jack
looked around puzzled. He knew he must be wearing one of those
stupid
looks but he couldn't help it. He had no fucking idea what they were
talking about...

A
waitress, her uniform heavily stained and smeared with food, bought
Jack
a steaming plate of food and gingerly placed it in front of him. She
smiled sheepishly. "I am sorry about your shirt, Commander."
She turned and left after clearing some empty platters.

Jack
looked down at his shirt then back up. "Huh?" He didn't
know
how
much more of this he could take... Wasn't anyone curious about the
mysterious stranger in the hooded cloak? They acted like he'd been
at dinner the whole time!

"I
only got her with a spoonful..." said Maria.

"Yeah,"
drawled Paul, pointing to Brian, "but
he
got her with a whole
plateful!"

Brian
smirked as he bit into a dinner roll, "Couldn't let her get
away
with dirtying squadron colors..."

"Not
without retaliation," added Paul with a mischievous sparkle in
his
blue eyes.

"This
all happened when I left to change my shirt?" guessed Jack.

"That
and the inevitable escalation," added Professor Edgars with a
wave
of his pipe.

"They
tried a counter-attack but we had them out-gunned," added
Yosha,
a tall Alberian woman from the ship's crew, "they surrendered
just before your return." The bridge crew chanted a hearty
victory cheer.

Jack's
mind rolled his meeting with Voorlak like a film while he
listened
to the casual banter and jokes. Maria's voice at his side made him
start. "Sorry," she apologized, "why are you so deep
in thought?"

Jack
shrugged "No reason." He was just beginning to piece this
all
together.

"Did
the stain come out?"

Jack
nodded, he felt it best to go with the flow of things until
this
was all clearer to him.

The
pilot was not trying to be rude, but he was only vaguely aware
of
his companions and the feast of edibles around him. Distracted, he
ate half-heartedly even though the food was delicious. In fact, much
of it looked and tasted like food from Earth. Then of course, there
were the other dishes, the ones he wouldn't touch with a stick. One
in particular looked like a bowl full of reddish-brown worms. Jack
could swear they were moving. Try as he might, he could not get
himself to stay with the conversation at the table. His mind
wandered.

Platters
arrived full of fresh, hot food and disappeared empty, as
did
the flasks of wine and brandy. It wasn't until dessert that Jack had
assembled a reasonable assimilation of the events that transpired...
Ok, he argued, maybe it wasn't reasonable, maybe it wasn't even
sane, but what the hell, it was the best he could do considering all
the unknowns involved.

Jack
quickly ruled out that the episode with Voorlak was only a
dream.
That would be too easy. No, Voorlak was real enough. Real enough to
pour and drink snifters of brandy, real enough to touch Jack on the
shoulder, these things weren't imagined. But, Jack thought, anyone
who could live over two thousand years and could pass through the
hull of a ship as easily as walking through a door, was no ordinary
man.