Two Birds, One Feather: The Lives and Times of Lorewyn & Rhianyn in America

by C. J. Pearson

  A woman with a cross around her neck tried to shove Lorewyn away. Lorewyn put her hand up forcefully. “I’m warning you,” she said icily, loud enough so that those around could hear. “If you try to physically stop either myself or her, that’s assault, and I’m pressing charges! I’m not bluffing!”

  Her words were enough to cause the woman to back off a foot or two, but the people kept crowding, not physically interfering but yelling and chanting all the way to the door of the clinic. The private security guard quickly opened the door to let Elena and Lorewyn in, then closed and locked it as fast as he could.

  “It’s a madhouse out there!” he exclaimed. “A madhouse, I tell you!”

  The chants could still be heard outside. “Thou shalt not kill! Abortion is sin! No more Roe v. Wade! Murderers shall be judged!”

  Lorewyn helped Elena to the receptionist and got her checked in. She stayed with her until the doctor actually came to speak to her.

  “I can do this from here… I think,” Elena told her.

  “I’ll be in the waiting room,” Lorewyn assured her. “I’ll make sure you get home safely when you’re done.”

  Elena hugged her and the door closed. Lorewyn walked back to the lobby area, the yells and bullying from outside still audible and clear. She just shook her head and picked up a magazine from the nearby table.

  It was then that she noticed the gym bag on the chair next to her. She hadn’t really paid attention to it when she sat down, but now as she was seated and was able to survey the room for a bit, it was evident that the bag didn’t belong to anyone. Placing the magazine down, Lorewyn took one more look, just to make sure. There were a couple of other people in the waiting area.

  “Does this bag belong to anyone?” she asked, pointing to it. Those close by shook their heads in response. Lorewyn was about to pick it up and take it to the receptionist to see if anyone lost it, but her keen Elven hearing picked up something… even with all the shouting outside.

  It was a faint ticking… like the hands on a watch. Very soft. No one else in the room would’ve been able to hear it, not with average Human hearing.

  Puzzled, Lorewyn reached over and slowly unzipped the bag, peeking inside. She had to resist the urge to react or verbally curse in alarm.

  It was an electronic mechanical device, no bigger than a toaster, with an analog timer, some wires, and C-4 attached to it.

  It was a bomb!

  Lorewyn hastily glanced at the timer before carefully zipping the bag closed again. She only had a minute or so left. She stood up, trying to act casual, and walked over to the receptionist. She leaned in and whispered to her.

  “I need you to get every single person out of here… now!”

  The receptionist just looked at her funny. Lorewyn shook her head, a bit frustrated, then motioned discreetly to the bag on the chair.

  The receptionist seemed confused for a second, but then got it, her eyes popping out. “Oh my God!” she shrieked. “A bomb!”

  Dammit! Lorewyn winced to herself. Not like that!

  The people in the waiting room started screaming and running for the door. The security guard was fumbling for his keys, but the people just ran him over. They were pounding on the door, panicking, until the guard just threw the keys at the nearest person while he was prone on the floor. They got the door unlocked a moment later, and people started tearing out of the clinic like it was on fire.

  Prepared for the chaos when the receptionist erupted, Lorewyn was already in the hall, urging everyone out of the exam rooms and toward any exit, as fast as possible. The cat was out of the bag now!

  “Bomb!” she exclaimed. “Bomb! Move it!”

  Elena hadn’t started the procedure yet and came running out. Lorewyn didn’t stop, just urging her to keep going, to get out.

  The clinic was evacuated with about 15 seconds left on the clock. Lorewyn grabbed the bag, set it on the floor, and started in on the somatic gestures for her mother’s powerful shield spell.

  Mother, I’m trusting you, she thought. I saw how it held back Pirryneus once upon a realm… I’m hoping it can contain an explosive blast!

  10… 9… 8…

  She almost had it. She could possibly save this building! The people were out. She was the only one at risk. Blackbird, I know… I’m a crazy S’trysthyl!

  7… 6… 5…

  The spell took effect, creating a bubble about five feet in diameter around the bag. The shield shimmered in the air.

  4… 3… 2…

  Lorewyn dove under the receptionist’s desk, sliding like a base runner into first after a bunt.

  The bomb went off.

  The floor beneath the bag shook, nothing like the quake a few years earlier that Lorewyn and Rhianyn had experienced, but still a decent rumble. The bag blew apart, and the blast filled the shield bubble.

  The spell worked… the shield held!

  A moment later, the blast effect subsided within the containment. There wasn’t much left, just a few charred pieces. But the timer itself and some wire bits seemed relatively intact for some reason. Lorewyn picked that piece up and exited the clinic.

  People were shocked that the building was still in one piece. Lorewyn approached a group of protestors.

  “You can tell whoever planted that bomb that it was a dud,” she exclaimed. “Kind of like the lot of you!”

  One of the protestors yelled back in disbelief. “Bomb? What bomb?!”

  “This one,” Lorewyn replied, tossing him the timer remnant. The man gasped in terror, the timer landing at his feet. He dropped his sign and fled, along with most of the other protestors.

  The clinic re-opened an hour later, following a check-in with the police and building inspection. But the damage had been so minimal… just some busted up floor in a surprisingly neat and contained five-foot diameter. Elena went through with the procedure, and Lorewyn got her home safe.

  After what had happened, Elena decided to go ahead and tell her parents. But she told them everything, about how she would’ve possibly died in a bomb threat had not Lorewyn evacuated her and others. Her father, who actually turned out to be the proprietor who had argued with Lorewyn earlier, insisted on speaking with her.

  “You saved my daughter’s life,” he said. “I don’t blame Elena for what happened to her… she was a victim. She was raped. And even though I don’t approve of abortion, the truth is that my daughter is alive… and that’s pro-life! For that, I am thankful, and I thank you Lorraine Silvestri for helping her. I am in your debt.”

  Lorewyn offered him a humble smile. “Work with me to help that man outside of your market,” she said, “and I’ll consider us even.”

  And help he did. Mr. Petrakovich split the cost with Lorewyn and Rhianyn to get the man into a program with services, a transitional living situation, and he was given a part-time job at the market.

  Rhianyn had been working a flight rotation when the incident at the abortion clinic happened. When she came home, Lorewyn offered a caveat to any future adventures the two of them might share together.

  “Blackbird, there are some situations where we should not strive to blow shit up together… deal?”

  CHAPTER 27

  Author’s Note: This chapter contains a fictionalized account of Rhianyn’s experiences as a commercial airline pilot on the morning of September 11, 2001 when the 9/11 attacks took place. The narrative describes what Rhianyn and other characters witnessed and heard being in flight on a fictional airline at the time the two plane strikes on the World Trade Center occurred. Some actual text footage taken from Air Traffic Control transcripts is used to supplement the fictional narrative. As we are near the 20th anniversary of 9/11 at the time this novel is being published, and since this can be a delicate topic for some readers, these comments are offered in advance. This chapter is written as a tribute to those who died… and those of us alive who remember.

  ***

  Lorewyn and Rhianyn moved to Santa Rosa in 1996. Lorewyn had com
pleted her dissertation and was offered a job teaching History at Redwood State University. She didn’t know it at the time, but it would be the longest career she had up to that point living on Earth… retiring 30 years later. Rhianyn was still with Cavalier Airlines, a position that she likewise would keep and retire from many years later. Had she been a daily commuter, she might’ve objected to the move to Sonoma County, seeing that she was still based out of SFO and it was a considerable drive. But her flight rotation enabled her to work a few days, then come home for a short break before doing her next rotation. And while working, she wouldn’t commute, instead staying overnight with her crew in local paid-for hotels and being transported by shuttle to and from the airports that they were flying into and out of.

  They bought a home in Bennett Valley, just a few acres but some nice scenery… and their neighbors had horses. Lorewyn had kept her 1968 Mustang California Special garaged while in Berkeley but finally got it out and started driving it again. Rhianyn had been riding a motorcycle to and from SFO.

  “I think this is the first car you’ve actually kept from one identity to the next,” she commented to Lorewyn when her wife removed the cover on her pony after seven years of non-operational use.

  “Yes, but this one’s special, you know that,” she replied.

  “Obviously,” Rhianyn teased, running her finger along the “California Special” emblem on the car’s side.

  Lorewyn just gave a laughing scoff and tossed the cover at her. “It was a gift. There’s a lot of meaning behind it… and that transcends alias, at least for me.”

  Rhianyn nodded, understanding. She gave the horn a playful honk. “I hope Reggie’s still doing okay… and the firm is still successful.”

  “Me too,” Lorewyn said softly.

  ***

  Rhianyn’s new First Officer, Abigail Fischer, was already on board and doing some pre-flight checks when Rhianyn stepped onto the plane at JFK Airport in New York. Cavalier had just assigned her the San Francisco to New York run at the beginning of the month. As such, this necessitated a different plane, one better suited for transcontinental flights. And as it so happened, she got a new Co-Pilot as well.

  “Captain Davenport,” Abigail said enthusiastically in greeting as Rhianyn stepped into the cockpit. “Good morning! I hope you don’t mind, I got here a bit early… my first time on this rotation… you know, just making sure.”

  Rhianyn stowed her case and took the captain’s seat. “No complaints with you starting early… it means less for me to do. And Marlena is fine when the rest of the flight crew and passengers aren’t around,” she replied casually. “Actually, you can just call me Lena. Most everyone does. And glad to have you as my First Officer… you come highly recommended. Former Navy pilot, yes?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Abigail replied with a friendly salute. “And you can call me Abby, if we’re going casual. Lena… I like that name. Lena from Palesteena.”

  Rhianyn glanced at her with a curious side grin. “That’s a bit before your time, isn’t it?” she jested, checking the manifest and starting her routine systems inspection.

  “I like the classics,” Abby stated. “Jazz, swing, all that. New York style especially. Have you ever spent time in New York before?”

  Another grin from Rhianyn. “A little. I’m from the other end of the country, though. California.”

  “That’s partly why I was excited for this rotation,” Abby explained. “Seeing California. I’m from upstate New York actually. West of Albany. The Adirondacks.”

  “That’s a very beautiful area,” Rhianyn commented, making the fuel report.

  “Have you been there before?” Abby asked.

  “Once or twice,” Rhianyn replied vaguely. “So, have you ever flown a Boeing Triple Seven before?”

  “Hmm, once or twice,” Abby smiled, then laughed.

  Rhianyn took a moment to look over the young lady in the co-pilot’s chair. Abby was no more than 35, but looked ten years younger. She had a somewhat innocent expression, with short-styled strawberry blonde hair and light brown eyes. She looked very much like a young Human woman that Rhianyn had flown with once before on a Giant Owl… long ago.

  “I have a feeling you and I will get along just fine, Fischer,” Rhianyn said with a bit of a nostalgic smirk.

  The flight attendants checked in, the rest of the pre-flight procedures were completed, and passengers started boarding. It would be a full flight.

  By 8:00AM, Eastern time, the boarding was complete, the doors were closed, and Rhianyn was making her welcome speech.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Cavalier flight 1042, non-stop from New York to San Francisco. This is a Boeing Triple Seven aircraft. I’m your captain, Marlena Davenport, and your first officer on this flight is Abigail Fischer. We have three flight attendants on board to see to your needs and help make your trip with us more comfortable, Eric Salazar, Tanisha Brooks, and Jennifer Chang. We’ll be cruising at an altitude of 35,000 feet for most of the flight, with an estimated arrival in San Francisco at 12:15 Pacific time.”

  Rhianyn closed the mic, turning it over to the attendants for their safety procedures review. Abby started the taxiing maneuvers toward the runway. There were some delays with a few other flights, and Air Traffic Control had to place Flight 1042 in the queue for a few minutes. Rhianyn got the all-clear signal at 8:35.

  “Flight Attendants, prepare for take-off,” she said into the mic.

  At 8:37, the engines on the plane were fired up, and Flight 1042 began to race down the runway, lifting off and ascending into the air above JFK.

  “It really is a beautiful day,” Abby commented, noticing the clear blue skies and exceptional visibility.

  “New York in September,” Rhianyn offered quietly.

  The plane was ascending now over Brooklyn and approaching Manhattan. Rhianyn always liked to indulge a bit when flying out of or into JFK, to take a peek at the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building from her vantage point. On a clear day, like this one, with her superior vision, she could usually make out both structures at a distance. Just memories, she would think.

  The advantage of having a co-pilot… she could afford that indulgence.

  Abby had the helm as Flight 1042 was now almost over Upper Bay near the mouth of the East River. That’s when Rhianyn picked it up.

  Startled, she adjusted her headset and flipped a switch. It had only been for an instant, but now it was gone. Abby saw her reaction and looked over at her.

  “What is it?” she asked, a bit concerned.

  Rhianyn didn’t answer right away but got on the radio to Air Traffic Control.

  “New York, this is Cavalier 1042, we just picked up a faint ELT on 121.5 megahertz. Repeat, faint ELT, check our transponder, possible…”

  “Confirm, 1042, we got two other reports coming from US Airways and Delta flights saying the same thing. Maintain flight, 1042, switching to airborne common.”

  Abby whispered over to Rhianyn. “ELT?”

  “Emergency Locator Transmitter,” Rhianyn replied. “Used if a plane crashes, but we only got a brief blip of…”

  Rhianyn stopped mid-sentence. She had been glancing out the window, catching a glimpse of Lady Liberty, when suddenly her eye caught a plane in the distance, over Manhattan, flying perilously low. She knew the appropriate ascent and descent vectors for flights in and out of JFK and LaGuardia. And she had a vivid memory of the Graf Zeppelin, now over 70 years ago, coming in too low over Manhattan and slicing a bit off the New York Times building.

  Rhianyn continued watching, assuming this was some sort of error and that the pilot of that craft would pull up… but her assumption was wrong. She watched over the next couple seconds in horror as the plane came right in at high speed… crashing into one of the towers of the World Trade Center.

  “Oh… my… God!” she found herself whispering.

  Abby wouldn’t have been able to see it. No one else on board her flight would’v
e been able to either had they been looking out the window in the right direction. It was just too far for Human vision to perceive.

  Radio chatter was coming through on airborne common.

  “… Looks like we lost the primary target about twenty west of Kennedy, and we had a report of an ELT in the area. We’re gonna… guess we’ll get some Coast Guard activity up there.”

  “Well, we lost the track too.”

  “Boston, this is New York, what type of aircraft was the American?”

  “767.”

  “This is the ACI watch. Say again if you lost track of the aircraft, over.”

  “Boston has lost track, on our frequency we had some threats that it was a hijack…”

  “New York confirms that we lost track as well, and we were… had report of an ELT in the area that the track was in.”

  “Kennedy Tower reports… are you serious? Kennedy Tower reports that there was a fire at the World Trade Center. And that’s… that’s the area where we lost the airplane.”

  Abby was listening to radio, her eyes widening in fear. “Are they saying…?” She began to activate the mic to alert the flight attendants. Rhianyn reached out, batting her hand away. She felt bad for doing that, but…

  “Stay off the com!” she ordered. Rhianyn pressed the transmitter button on her radio. “New York, this is Cavalier 1042, confirm World Trade Center hit by airplane, repeat, World Trade Center hit by…!”

  The airborne common started chattering up again.

  “Anybody know what that smoke is in lower Manhattan?”

  “I’m sorry, say again.”

  “Lot of smoke in lower Manhattan.”

  “A lot of smoke in lower Manhattan?”

  “… Coming out of the top of the World Trade Center building, a major fire.”

  Air Traffic Control suddenly came on, directing their call at Rhianyn.

  “Cavalier 1042, this is New York, repeat last message… again, we didn’t get your last message…”