As they finished their dessert and waited for their after dinner drink, a crewman arrived from the bridge with a message for Captain Gantarro. Leaning close, he conveyed the information privately in Gant's ear. Jack watched with interest, but no one else seemed to notice the transaction. Gant's eyes widened at what Jack imagined to be astounding information, then narrowed, as he nodded his approval of action taken.
The Captain of the Princess Hedonist stood, taking the crewman aside. And, with his arm around the young man's shoulder in a fatherly fashion, spoke quietly to him. The crewman saluted and hustled off. Gant stood motionless and watched him weave his way through the restaurant.
Jack stood, more to stretch his legs than anything else, but he was curious. "A problem?"
Gant turned and smiled, he eyes still far away... "No my boy, everything's just fine." The words sounded hollow, false. Jack did not move away, he felt the man wanted to say more. "We've gotten an automated distress call from a private yacht called the Eliza Meru... we've altered our course to intercept her drift."
Drift? thought Jack. His pulse quickened, "Pirates?"
Gant shook his head in distaste, "God, I hope not, they've never been seen in this sector before. If they are here, they're a long way from any of their normal patterns." He pulled at his chin, "No, I'd have to say this is probably a routine mechanical failure of some kind. In any event, we're required by legal sanctions to assist any call of this nature." He put his hand on Jack's shoulder, "Do me a favor though, stay sober tonight, ok? We might need a shuttle to go out for recovery. Oh, and not a word of this to anyone."
"No problem."
"Good, let's go have some fun!" Gant moved to the head of the table and clapped his hands for attention, "Let's go dancing, people!" Chairs scattered as the group of over twenty rose to their feet amidst hoots and a chorus of applause. Gantarro's mind continued to work on the situation, though he played well at levity. If the pirates were indeed out in this sector, it did not bode well for the UFW. True, he argued, the pirates were becoming more aggressive than ever, but this would be a stretch even for them. He prayed it was just an innocent call for assistance. He tried to put it out of his mind for now, he'd know more in a couple of hours.
The band in the Starlight Lounge played the most intriguing music, compelling one to dance. In a wide variety of music, they mixed fast and slow dances so couples had a chance to raise their sexual blood pressure with a pounding beat before dancing to a slow, sensual grind. It must work, because the steady flow of groups of singles entering the club was only matched by the volume of outgoing couples. In fact, this was the only thing that kept the club from bursting at the seams. One of the couples ready to join that outward flow was Brian and Seeta. They had not left each others' side since their introduction in the restaurant, and it was not physically possible for them to get any closer without privacy or the removal of clothes.
Jack and Maria were sitting out a dance with scattered remnants of their original dinner group when Brian and Seeta wandered off the dance floor in search of cool refreshment. Their eyes were wide and glassy, their faces shiny with sweat. Seeta clung to Brian's waist and rubbed her face on his arm. "I want to be alone," she reminded him.
Brian shushed her, "I know, I just want to say goodnight to everyone." Retrieving their drinks, they bid everyone well and made their way through the crowded nightclub and out the door.
"I say," said Professor Edgars, "quite a short farewell, eh?"
"I daresay," returned Derrik, "I would have done much the same with a lusty lovely like that on my arm."
"A horny little tramp," muttered Maria.
"Oh, and I suppose you're not?" Jack pulled her hair and she almost fell off his lap. "Stop being a snotty little bitch," he scolded.
"If I'm a bitch, you're a dick," she retorted.
Jack rose from his chair, almost dumping Maria on the floor. He caught her by the waist, "Gentlemen," he said, pulling Maria close, "I think it's time I take my drunken Senorita home and remind her of her manners." It seemed beyond a certain volume of alcohol consumption, her behavior changed from amorous to catty. To his dismay he had not yet identified that point of diminished return.
Someone asked Jack how he would punish her. "Spanking, I suppose."
Maria pushed him away, "You and what army?"
"Me, myself and I should be enough," said Steele, hoisting her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"What if she likes it?" someone asked.
"Spank her harder," added Derrik.
"Works for me," said Jack with a grin.
"Captain Gantarro to the bridge, please. Captain Gantarro to the bridge..." the message came over the address system, momentarily interrupting the music.
The Captain rose from his seat at the table, "Jack?"
"I'll be right behind you. I need to deposit this," he pointed at Maria's bottom, still slung over his shoulder. Gant nodded, turned and left.
Shoot, thought Jack, I was really looking forward to putting a rosy color on her butt. Jack made his way onto the dance floor and cut in on Paul who was dancing with Myomerr. He knew if he was going to fly he would need a copilot "You sober?"
"Sure."
"No questions, just meet me on the bridge, ten minutes. Ok?"
"You got it."
"Thanks," Jack turned and hustled through the crowd, the protesting Maria bouncing on his shoulder. "C'mon Fritz!" The Shepherd slid through the undulating throng with little apparent effort.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PRINCESS HEDONIST: WRECK OF THE ELIZA MERU
Paul Smiley stood in the corridor outside the entrance of the bridge and waited for Jack. He wondered what he was there for. He leaned back against the padded corridor wall, arms folded and closed his eyes. The pilot-warrior within him began to speculate about circumstances that would bring him here late at night. If he had been back on his carrier, Shenandoah, he would know what to expect. At the very least, he'd have heard some scuttlebutt, but here... Paul opened his eyes at the swish of the elevator doors. "Hey, Jack. So, what's the story?"
Jack stepped out of the lift alone. "Well, I'm not so sure, it was kind'a sketchy, so I'll let Gant fill us both in. C'mon, we'd better get in there." About to enter the professional side of the interstellar traveler's world, the two pilots did an unconscious tuck and primp to neaten their already spotless appearance.
Jack touched the numbered keypad and the door slid open with a hiss, admitting them to the bridge. The lights in the command room were muted, almost to the point of being cozy, but it was actually so the bridge crew could read their instruments and see their consoles better. The two pilots stood just inside the entry and waited to be officially noticed and admitted. The room containing the bridge was shaped like a half moon, the entrances from the corridor on the flat side. A domed ceiling met walls without seam, providing the perfect surface for a panoramic vidscreen.
Ceiling and walls, except for the flat side, sparkled with points of light like the planetarium Jack remembered from his childhood. Science and navigation vid-stations lined the curved left and right walls while the ships communication station occupied a huge console in the center of the balcony overlooking the pit. The pit and the balcony were not so far away as their names implied. In fact, the pit was only about eighteen inches below the balcony, much like a sunken living room.
The pit was where the actual physical control of the Princess Hedonist took place, three helm stations, a security station, and in the center, the Captain's Command Chair. The CCC, as it was commonly called, held three vid monitors, so at anytime the Captain could view any three vital work stations at a time, checking operations in progress or even intervening if necessary.
The two pilots watched the te
amwork on the bridge and admired the efficiency and diligence. They watched the crew, studying their consoles, faces bathed in the multicolored light of the vidscreens, "In range of the visual pick up..."
"Good, on screen," said Gant.
"Yes, sir. Video in four... three, two, one." Where the forward floor length view-screen had previously shown only distant stars and empty space, a small ship wavered into view.
"Focus, please." Gant's voice was almost fatherly.
Jack and Paul stepped forward in a reflex effort to get a better look at the ship which seemed so lost amongst all those stars. One of the crew caught their movement in her peripheral vision and looked up from her work station. "Officers on the bridge," she announced. The two pilots became a momentary center of attention as bridge personnel glanced up from their work.
"Come in, gentlemen," said Gant, "we've just reached visual range." The view-screen image became clearer as the crew adjusted focus, and the Princess Hedonist drew closer to the drifting craft. "So far we've had no communications contact with the Eliza Meru. Either they're unable to transmit, or there is no one left to transmit. We'll find out soon enough."
Paul pointed to the screen, "What's that weird glow behind her?"
"Science…" called Gant.
"She's trailing what appears to be a mixture of atmosphere and fuel sir. It's a pretty bad leak."
"Any signs of life?"
"Can't tell at this range sir, but some of her systems are still operating or she would've run out of atmosphere long ago."
"Thank you, Ensign." Gant turned to his own command panel and pushed a comm button, "tower?" The flight bay's control tower, acknowledged their presence and Gant ordered the work craft readied. He turned back to Jack and Paul, "You two ready for a little flight?"
"Sure."
"Good. We want to check for occupants and after that shut her completely down. Don't waste any time, we don't want to linger in this area. Ok?"
"No problem," said Jack.
"Good. The engineers going with you will meet you in the bay. While you suit up they'll brief you on recovery procedure. We'll be watching you from here. Don't use ship-t0-ship communications unless it's really necessary."
Jack and Paul left the bridge and headed for the air tunnel station on the bridge level, knowing it would have the least traffic. They carried with them, the uneasy butterflies caused by the unique combination of excitement and the uncertainty of the unknown.
As the air car whistled along, neither man spoke, both lost in their personal thoughts. Even when they passed through the upper reaches of the trees in the Ecosphere, an impressive sight, neither moved or spoke. Jack glanced over at Pappy, his head rested back comfortably on the padded headrest and his eyes were closed. He looked to be totally relaxed. Jack took a deep breath and did the same.
■ ■ ■
The flight bay was a hub of activity. A ten person work craft sat on the loading ramp, its systems already up and running. Mechanics scurried about and technicians made last minute checks of special equipment.
Jack and Paul were ushered to the ready room, fitted with atmosphere suits and given sidearms. On their way down the ramp, Jack looked more closely at the work shuttle. It looked weathered and beaten. "Geez, what a piece of junk!"
Another form in an atmosphere suit, stepped out of the hatchway of the craft, "True, she's not much to look at, but she's got a good heart." He extended his hand, "Trigoss, Chief Engineer... our tech is already aboard." They all shook hands as they stepped through the entry hatch. "This is our spare tractor," said the Engineer as he affectionately patted the inside of the hull. "We had a newer one but no one seems to know what happened to it."
"Mechanical problems?" asked Pappy.
Trigoss shook his head as he closed and sealed the hatch behind them. "No, missing."
"Missing?! How in God's name do you lose a shuttle craft?"
Trigoss was a short, burly figure, with hands like hams. Because of a heavy olive complexion, no hair and a short, flat nose, he somewhat resembled a reptile... sort of. He rubbed a sizable hand across his forehead. "Well, not lost. More probably stolen."
Jack was having a difficult time fathoming this and he was hoping he wasn't being dense. "Why, how, would someone steal a shuttle? I mean, what would they do with it? Where could they possibly hide it? This bay is big, but there can't be that many places to..."
Trigoss was shaking his head and waving his hand. "No, Commander, not like that. Steal as in starting the engines and leaving in it."
"Oooohhh." Now he did feel dense.
Paul made him feel better. "Well that would be pretty stupid though wouldn't it? Their range is fairly short."
"True," agreed the Engineer, "but there may have been a predestined meeting coordinated. Leave, cruise a short distance, then wait. A little risky but usually successful."
Curiouser and curiouser thought Jack as he climbed into the command seat. Paul drew the copilot's seat. For Jack it was a natural inclination, and if Paul had any objections to it, he kept them to himself. The controls were laid out almost identical to the regular shuttles and neither pilot had any trouble acclimating to the ship.
The tower cleared the little ship for takeoff and Jack taxied it slowly toward the open bay door and the void beyond. At the door, Jack gently tapped the thrust button on the control stick and it sent them slowly out into space. "Gear in?"
"Done," replied Pappy, flipping the switches. Jack throttled up and headed for the drifting Eliza Meru.
■ ■ ■
Trigoss stuck his head into the cockpit, "Circle 'round her one time, give us a chance to decide the best place to board her. Ok?" Both pilots affirmed the request.
The Eliza Meru was at one time a beautiful and graceful ship. Sleek, comfortable and fast for a private ship. She was now twisted, broken, and blackened. "Christ..." murmured Paul, "what happened to her?"
Trigoss stood between the seated pilots, "Doesn't look natural,” he said, rubbing his chin. He turned to the rear of the shuttle, "What d'you think Marcus?"
"I've got traces of mercury and argon coming up on the scanner," came the answer.
"Mmmm..." Trigoss nodded thoughtfully.
"Holy cow, look at that!" Pappy's eyes widened as the shuttle coasted around the stern of the Eliza Meru.
"Jesus..." added Jack, his voice barely audible. Massive blast holes raked the stern. One of the ship's twin engines no longer existed. The other trailed its vitals and fuel behind it. A twisted hole in the hull just forward of the engines, trailed atmosphere vapor.
"Pace her here." Trigoss pointed to the hole forward of the engine section. "And hold us steady above her hull."
"Ok... So, what's the mercury and argon mean? And what the hell happened to this ship?" Jack adjusted the throttle to coincide with the Eliza Meru's drift.
"Pirates, probably." Both pilots turned to look Trigoss in the eye, expecting to see some humor there. There was none. "So, we don't want to hang around here too long." He turned away, "Marcus, those grapples ready?"
“Yep."
"Fire away then!" The small shuttle vibrated as the grapple points fired, trailing tether cables. The points pierced the hull of the Eliza Meru around the hole in her hull and opened to hold the cables fast. "Ok, Marcus, they've stuck, winch us in." Trigoss was watching from a starboard observation port. The winches hummed as the cables pulled the two ships together, the shuttle's hatch covering the hole in the Eliza Meru.
"Ok, boys, we're all the way in. Give us a little reverse thrust, let's stop this drift." Jack applied back-thrust as Paul gathered their gear. Above the top of the crippled hull, Jack could see the Princess Hedonist in the distance, about ten miles out. For some reason, she seeme
d farther away than that.
The four men donned their helmets and popped the shuttle's hatch. A great whoosh and the air disappeared, lost to the starry void through the gap between the ships. The special suits the men wore were not the clumsy, bulky suits worn by Earth's Astronauts. These fit more like a scuba diver's suit, though not quite as tight. The climate and air support equipment was small enough to fit on a utility belt that plugged into the waist of the suit and provided about four hours of life support.
Jack checked his sidearm as he stepped through into the darkened interior of the Eliza Meru. Trigoss touched him on the elbow from behind, "Relax kid, you won't need that. Won't be anything but ghosts here..."
Paul and Jack exchanged glances in the darkness, their faces illuminated by the systems lights in their helmets. Neither said a word. They both had the feeling their Chief Engineer had seen this kind of thing before. The artificial gravity system was still working but just barely, and the men had to carefully negotiate their way through the corridors. Lighting glowed faintly but inconsistently throughout the ship and Paul was glad for the hand-spotlights they carried. Signs of struggle were everywhere. The once gracious interior was strewn with ruined furniture, the walls and ceiling marred with black burns from small arms fire. Since there was no atmosphere, there was no sound and the stillness was eerie and chilling.
The four men split up to inspect the ship, connected only by the comm units in their helmets. Jack's hand itched. He longed for the weight of his .45, but all he had was the lightweight sidearm issued him in the flight bay. He pulled it from its holster and returned it, his common sense telling him, weapons were unnecessary here. The hair at the back of his neck and his alarm senses made him pull it back out again, it made him feel less naked.
Paul had been in three rooms and found nothing. He was about to head to the bridge where they'd agreed to meet, when he stumbled over something in the hallway, some kind of an animal, a pet most likely, its head and brains blown across the corridor deck and walls. "Ugh." He turned away in disgust and continued down the hall. He reported what he saw into the comm unit.
Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) Page 19