Stars Fell on Trieste

by M. Alan Marr

  Jen leads Matt into the spacious lounge area. “Crew lounge,” Jen says. “Some of our flights are pretty long, so this place will get used a lot.”

  They move into the main galley, which has provisions piled all over the place. Nothing has been put away yet. Stacks of cartons and jars; cases of fresh vegetables and fruit, meats and fish, spirits and wines, herbs, cheeses, crackers. Also frozen bags of organic vegetables, loaves of fresh bread, dozens of free-range eggs.

  “Milo, this is Matt Thompson, new first officer.”

  “Piacere, Matteo, is-a good to meet you,” Milo says warmly, stopping to shake his hand.

  “You’re Italian,” Matt says.

  “Si, si, I come from Roma.”

  “Wow!” Matt marvels at all the provisions. He picks up one of many steaks vacuum-sealed in plastic. He looks at the label. “Grass-fed.”

  “Si, Signori Chaz ey Signori Dev, they eat mainly the organic foods,” Milo says.

  “Mainly?” Matt says.

  “They also love their junk food,” Jen adds, picking up a gallon of gourmet salted caramel ice cream to add to the freezer. “I’m going to get a fat ass working here.”

  “A little ga-dunk in the trunk, girlfriend?” Matt jokes.

  “We eat pretty well here,” she says, then turns to Milo. “I know you know this, Milo, but that fire door to the cargo hold can’t be left open.”

  “Si, I’m-a sorry, Jenna.”

  “Safety first, Milo,” she says, and then pops a fresh grape into her mouth before continuing on with Matt. “The main galley here has a dumbwaiter connected to the upper galley and bar. The range stove and ovens all sit within a fire containment system. If a fire breaks out, the hood comes down and isolates the hot sections and floods it with halon. It’ll totally ruin dinner, but at least we won’t all burn to death and crash. We have a demonstration video of that.”

  “Pretty cool.”

  “Fire doors on both sides of the galley close automatically if a smoke detector goes off. The entire galley module can be filled with halon in seconds.” She points to a red fire control panel on the galley wall with manual fire controls. Next to that is a cabinet clearly marked Emergency Equipment. “Portable O2 masks are in there, along with extinguishers and a med kit. So if you’re in here when the halon bottles go off you’ll want to put a mask on, or else you’re pretty much a dead duck a l’orange.”

  “Wow. I’d like to come back down when you’re not busy,” Matt says to Milo.

  “Si, si, any time. We are tuti aperti, always open.”

  “Dining room is this way.” Jen leads Matt into the dining room, which is now set with a customized Constellation Oasis tablecloth and an aircraft model installed in the center.

  “Constellation Oasis?” Matt says.

  “The name they gave the aircraft.”

  “I saw that by the boarding door. What’s it mean?”

  “I have no idea.” Jen points to a stairwell with a short flight of steps down to the mid-deck exit. “That’s the East Shitsville door down there.”

  “Oh, cool. This thing is really set up for any eventuality.”

  Jen leads Matt up the curving stairs to the main deck, where Steve and Harrison are chatting about the flight plan.

  “How’s it looking downstairs?” Steve says to Jen.

  “Galley is piled high with provisions.”

  Steve checks his watch. “The boys should be here in about forty-five minutes.” Franz enters through the main cabin door. “Franz? Crew briefing in fifteen minutes, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Steve turns to Matt. “Matthew, will you go aft and find Annette and let her know about the briefing and the ETA for Dev and Chaz?”

  “Yes, sir.” Matt hurries aft. Lounge is clear. Library is clear—wow, a fireplace. Boardroom is clear. Matt looks into each of the four staterooms. Very nice accommodations. Nice, but no Annette. He stops momentarily in the aft foyer and looks around in awe. Matt finally enters the owner’s suite and gawks at the king-size bed and elegant stateroom, but still no Annette. He hears a noise farther aft and walks down the side corridor. The bathroom is amazing.

  Matt finds Annette in the large walk-in closet aft of the bathroom. She is just finishing hanging up the last of the boys’ jackets. The closet has glass-fronted doors and drawers. All of the clothes have been put away neatly.

  “Annette?”

  “Yes? Oh, you must be Matt.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She extends her hand. “I bet you’re excited.”

  “Yeah, this is just incredible,” Matt says.

  “I’ll say.”

  “Oh, Captain says crew brief in fifteen—well, make that ten minutes now. I got lost.”

  “Easy to do here. Help me stow the luggage?”

  “Of course.” Matt helps her place all the smaller bags in the appropriate stowage slots. The larger bags are placed on a rack and secured with built-in tie-down straps. The closet is completely stocked, with no empty spaces for anything else.

  “Wow.”

  “I know. We haven’t quite worked this out yet, but generally, I’ll unpack all their things so they don’t wrinkle. Then when we get to our destination, the boys will repack whatever they want to take with them to the hotel.”

  Matt secures the last strap on the last bag.

  Annette smiles. “That’s the last one.”

  Matt looks at the center aft door. “Where does that go?”

  “Just to the back service area. That’s where the ground crew brought the bags in.”

  “Can I look?”

  “Of course.”

  Matt opens the rear door and walks into the area near the aft aircraft doors. Annette follows him out.

  “We use the upper storage boxes back here to hold supplies for the owner’s suite and bathroom. The lower ones are full of supplies, and small maintenance items for everything else.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  Annette checks her watch. “Oh, wow, I better get to the galley. I’m running out of time.”

  Matt follows Annette down the side corridor back into the bedroom, and then forward to the upper galley.

  It’s amazing what can be accomplished when there’s a deadline involved. Not because of fear of retribution, but rather, this group of professionals genuinely wants to give their all to their employers. Everyone has work to do and is doing it, with the exception of Matt, who, as the new guy, doesn’t really know what he should be doing yet. Right now, he’s just trying to stay out of everyone’s way. Annette happily prepares the upper galley, for one thing, making sure the ice machine is churning out cubes. Since Steve spent the night aboard, the ice machines, chillers, and freezers operated all night. Champagne bottles are in the chiller, which is set to thirty-six degrees to give Mr. Chaz his extra-cold bubbly, just as he likes it. Champagne flutes ready. Trays ready. Nuts, pretzels, and crackers ready.

  Steve is inside the Captain’s Quarters checking on the flight plan with the computer (and the standard backup flight plan back to ATL) and verifies the fuel load on the cockpit instrument repeater screen with the receipt provided by the fueler. He gathers up his paperwork and puts it all inside his leather folder, checks his watch, and then picks up the interphone at his desk and selects PA. “Crew briefing on the main deck. Crew briefing on the main deck.”

  The crew stops whatever they are doing, and they all converge in the main deck for Steve’s briefing, using both sets of stairs. Steve exits his quarters a minute or so later and joins the crew assembled near the upper galley. Annette puts several bottles of water on the bar top for anyone who wants one. Jen, Harrison, and Milo each take a bottle. They’ve been running around all morning and are thirsty.

  Steve checks his watch and begins the briefing. “All right, we’ve got thirty minutes before the boys arrive. Where are we? Let’s start with the flight attendants. Franz?”

  “All provisions are aboard. We’re good for two weeks, plus
some.”

  “Milo?”

  “Main Galley is-a stocked and-a ready, Capitano.”

  “Annette?”

  “Upper galley is ready. Staterooms are ready. We verified everything is working, boardroom, lounge and library.”

  “Flight deck? Any maintenance items?”

  “None,” Harrison replies. “We’re good to go.”

  “Preflight?”

  “No items,” Jen reports.

  “All right,” Steve says, opening his leather folder. “Our flight plan today is from Atlanta Hartsfield to Bozeman, Montana. Flight time is four plus twenty-four. Weather today is mostly clear; no forecasted turbulence or convective activity. It’s going to be chilly in Bozeman, and Chaz hates the cold, so we’ll plan on using the mid-deck boarding door for entry and egress and keeping it closed as much as possible, which means we’ll be keeping the APU fired up for heat and electrics on the ground. That also means one flight attendant on duty downstairs to man the door. We’ll keep all the upper doors closed with the slides armed in case we need to evacuate on the ground. A helicopter will be meeting us plane-side to take the boys to their meeting.”

  “What’s in Bozeman?” says Jen.

  “Possibly our new home,” Steve replies.

  Steve’s Ti-Phone signals a text. He reads it and then turns back to his crew. “That’s them. They’re early. They’ll be here in fifteen. Harrison, take Matt through the cockpit prep.” Steve hands a printout of paperwork to him. “Flight plan is filed and should already be transmitted to the cockpit iPads. Harr, we’re filed with a wheels-up time at the top of the hour, so check to see if you can get them to let us go early. I’ll fly the first leg. Harrison, you’re right seat. Matt, you’ll be observing from the center jumpseat.”

  Harrison nods. “You got it, Boss.”

  Matt smiles. “Yes, sir.”

  “All right. Any questions?” There are none. “Good. With the addition of Matt, we now have a full crew. We have a great job, and we have awesome employers. Let’s get to work.”

  Harrison has Matt sit in the first officer’s seat and goes over the checklist with him. Although not yet type rated for the aircraft, Matt’s Airline Transport Pilot’s license qualifies him to occupy the seat and receive training. Harrison is impressed that Matt has a good working knowledge of the checklist and positions of all the cockpit systems. It is clear that Matt not only studied yesterday, but studied a lot. Harrison takes him through the programming of the Flight Management System; the FMS is the computer that sets their navigation course and flight plan for their flight to Montana.

  Steve gives Harrison about ten minutes with Matt, and then arrives in the flight deck. Matt relinquishes Harrison’s seat and steps back to allow the pilots room to get into proper position. Steve performs the captain’s check of his instruments, and then he and Harrison run the initial before start checklist.

  Steve looks to his left and sees a black SUV coming through the gate and driving across the ramp toward the Oasis. One of the advantages of being in an aircraft that sits up so high, is the unobstructed view of the entire corporate ramp.

  “They’re here,” Steve says, getting out of his seat. “Harr, make a PA, will you?”

  As Steve leaves the flight deck, Harrison’s voice comes over the PA. “Owners arriving. Owners arriving. Crew to the main deck.”

  This announcement begins a coordinated response. Steve walks down the airstairs to meet the car. Franz and Milo join Annette in the forward galley, where she readies a tray with two chilled champagne glasses. She also has a separate tray with seven champagne flutes filled with sparkling water hidden behind the bar. Harrison and Jen stand together. Matt, still watching, eases up and takes position next to Jen.

  Dev and Chaz exit the car and exchange pleasantries with Steve for a few moments before climbing the stairs and entering the aircraft. Steve steps around to make introductions.

  “Mr. Chaz Ronaldi, Mr. Dev Caelestis, I’d like you to meet our newest pilot, Matt Thompson.”

  Matt walks up to Dev and Chaz. “Sirs, it’s such a pleasure.” He turns to Chaz. “Thank you, Mr. Ronaldi, I understand you were in my corner.”

  “It’s Chaz,” he says, shaking Matt’s hand. “And you’re very welcome here, Matt, always.”

  Dev shakes Matt’s hand. “I’m delighted to meet you, Matt.”

  “Thank you, both, so much.”

  Annette serves Dev and Chaz their champagne and nods, indicating she is prepared.

  “We would like to propose a toast,” Dev says.

  Milo hands out the second tray of flutes to the crew, who are surprised at this. “Is just the sparkling water for us.”

  Once everyone has a glass in hand, Dev holds up his champagne and smiles. “To Matthew Merle Thompson. Welcome aboard, sir, and may you have all the luck of the stars.”

  Chaz offers the next toast, borrowing Dev’s standard. “And to new friends.”

  “Hear, hear,” they all say and lift their glasses and take a symbolic sip. Matt is almost brought to tears.

  “Matt,” Dev says, “we’ll talk a bit later?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chaz nods to Steve.

  “All right, everyone, we’ll be taxiing in less than ten minutes. Departure stations, please.”

  The greeting is short, but sweet. The call to departure stations triggers everyone into action. Annette secures the upper galley and arms the four doors in the aft sections. Milo hurries below to secure the Main Galley. Franz closes and arms the main cabin door and forward section doors. Dev and Chaz take their usual positions in the lounge and buckle up. After reporting all doors secure, the flight attendants take all the luggage to the Owner’s Suite.

  Twenty-five minutes later, the beautiful 767 lifts off from ATL bound for Montana.

  ***

  During the flight, Dev and Chaz spend a considerable amount of time in the boardroom. Dev rings the flight deck and asks them to send Matt back so they can talk to him.

  Timidly, Matt knocks on the door, and Chaz beckons him to come in. Chaz and Dev are sitting on the far side of the boardroom table.

  “Come in, come in,” Chaz greets warmly. “Matt, make yourself comfortable. Have a seat.”

  Matt gushes, “I can’t get over this airplane. And, I can’t believe you hired me to fly it!”

  “We chose our pilots very carefully, Matt,” Dev tells him. “Part is recommendation. Part is the background check. And . . . part is need.”

  “Well, I needed a job, that’s for sure,” Matt says.

  “And we need you,” Dev replies. “More than you know.”

  Chaz offers some compliments. “Your résumé is impressive, Matt. I want you to know that Steve had good things to say about you. And that was before the interview.”

  “I met Steve a few times through an ex-mutual friend,” Matt explains. “Steve . . . always treated me with respect.”

  “Steve is a good man,” Chaz says. “Which is why we made him our chief pilot and trust him with our lives. And also with some of our business affairs.”

  “Yeah, what is that?” Matt says curiously. “Last I heard, you were flying for Triad.”

  “I still do. But these days, we’ve been concentrating more on spending our trust funds.”

  Matt looks at Chaz and then at Dev. “I would imagine there is more to you both than just your Trust Funds.”

  “You have no idea,” Dev says, smiling. “But that will come in time. For the immediate future, we’re looking for some property, and eventual relocation.”

  Chaz adds, “I understand Steve is having you observe the first two legs and plans to put you in the right seat for some en route training.”

  “I didn’t know about that,” Matt says, somewhat surprised.

  “See?” Chaz smiles. “We talk to Steve about a lot of things.”

  The conversation continues a little while longer, mostly to set Matt’s mind at ease. They see he is a bit nervous, but that always comes with a
new job. Despite that, Matt has a spark that is quite unique. He is comfortable in his own skin, and knows exactly who he is.

  By the end of the meeting, Matt feels sincerely grateful to have been invited to join this crew. Dev and Chaz realize they made the right choice. Matt, like all the Oasis pilots, will have an exciting future ahead.

  Business complete, Matt is about to leave the boardroom and return to the flight deck. Dev glances at Chaz and then speaks again to Matt. “Would you let Steve know that after Montana, we want to fly to Portland instead of Manitoba?”

  “Yes, sir.” Matt hesitates. “Oh, do you mean Portland, Maine, or Portland, Oregon?”

  “Maine,” Chaz replies.

  chapter 10

  STAR-SCHMUCKS

  ☆ ☆

  The realtor in Montana brought Dev and Chaz to a spacious and very promising property of nearly three thousand acres with a large main house. He leads them outside onto a large wooden deck overlooking the vast property. It’s windy and biting cold. The realtor continues his spiel in the freezing air, despite the fact that Chaz is shivering and uncomfortable.

  “And the property line abuts with the former vice president’s land.”

  Chaz and Dev look at each other. “Pass,” they both say in unison.

  ***

  The 767 takes off an hour later. Dev and Chaz sit in the library in front of the virtual fireplace, which is pumping out lots of comfortable heat. They warm themselves with cups of steaming hot chocolate and have blankets covering their legs.

  “That was a colossal waste of jet fuel,” Chaz says, cradling his cup of hot chocolate to thaw his frozen fingers.

  Dev looks at the screen showing their course to Portland, Maine. ETA five hours. “Think we’ll find anything in Maine?”

  Chaz thinks about the question. “I don’t know. I’m concerned with the North Atlantic Tracks; those are the commercial jet routes to Europe. The whole East Coast may be out. There’s so much commercial traffic, I don’t think we’re going to find a place anywhere up and down the Eastern Seaboard.”

  “If that’s a concern, we can rule that out right now.”

  Chaz looks at the screen and shakes his head. “A lot of air traffic transits that area.”