Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1)

by Burger, Jeffrey

  Jack half smiled, half smirked. "Let me get this straight," he began, "you built this eye out of assorted spare parts?" He found this astonishing.

  "No no no. It would not be so crude if I had. Had to fashion most of it."

  "By hand...?" said Jack, thinking out loud. "Out of odds and ends... Just stuff you found lying around?"

  "Quite." said Hecken Noer with a curt nod.

  "Man! I'd love to see what you could do with the right stuff..!"

  The old man smiled like Santa Claus again, pointing at Jack. "Your own parents could never tell. I guarantee it."

  Jack liked him already, admiring his self assuredness. "Well," he began, shaking the man's hand again, "thank you for what you've already done. And if you care to make a list of what you need, somehow we'll find a way to get it for you..."

  Hecken assured him it would be done.

  Jack sat back in his chair and relaxed, watching the crew talk amongst themselves. It was the first moment he had taken to just look around. The flight bay had taken on a much different look since he saw it last, crowded with fighters, shuttles, supplies equipment and parts. Even ground vehicles. "Where the hell'd we get all this stuff?" he asked Alité in a whisper.

  "Off of ships at the depot," she answered. "You ought to see the cargo hold too. Lots more down there. We're almost full to capacity."

  That's when Jack saw him, a shadow between the shuttles in their revetment. "Voorlak..." whispered Jack. He felt the Ancient's smile though he could not see his face.

  "He says you must be careful when you get home," said Alité.

  Jack's head whirled in her direction. "You've seen him?"

  "Uh huh," she said, staring at the swirls in her wine glass.

  Jack looked back but the shadow was gone. He turned back to his wife and grabbed her hand. "When?"

  "When you were in the infirmary," she replied, meeting his eyes. “He came to tell me to have faith, that you would come back to me... “

  "What else did he say?"

  She shrugged. "We talked..."

  "About what..." He was torn between the thought that it felt like there was something she was avoiding, and the fact that she seemed to take his appearance so casually.

  "He said things at home are not safe for you. We will not be able to stay, and you should be very careful while we're there. He said you might want to stay but I shouldn't let you." Jack's eyes widened. "He also said," she continued, "I cannot go home. My planet has fallen to severe unrest and local civil wars. There are traitors and spies everywhere. My father fears for the safety of the entire Royal family."

  Jack looked down at his hands and back up, thinking about the fact that her brother and sister had been murdered in the life pod they'd been recovered in. He had decided not to tell her unless it became absolutely necessary and up to this point there didn't seem to be any reason to force her to re-live her grief or complicate her life. "Did he have anything good to say?"

  She smiled. "He said you would live at a time when I thought you might not, he said it was important that we had found each other...” she leaned in toward him whispering, “you and me...” She sat back again. “He also told me, you were special."

  Jack cocked an eyebrow, "Special?"

  Alité smiled and ran her finger across his lips. "The word he used was gifted, but then again, he wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know." Jack smiled at her insinuation, but he wondered what Voorlak had actually meant by that.

  ■ ■ ■

  It was several days later when Jack felt well enough to fly on patrol, that he strolled into flight briefing clad in his flight suit and carrying his helmet. He slipped quietly into the darkened room and sat in the back, wiping the thin layer of dust off his helmet with his sleeve. He was listening to Paul's instructions on patrol pattern and reminders of protocol when a figure in a UFW uniform entered and sat next to him.

  "Pardon me, sir," began the young man, "I hope I'm not being too forward, but I was told I needed to talk to you if I wanted to fly..."

  Jack looked at him in the darkness. "You're the Vulcan pilot we picked up, aren't you." It was more a statement than a question, Steele knew exactly who he was.

  "Yes, sir." He extended his hand. "Ensign Duncan Taylor."

  Jack took his hand and they shook. "Good to meet you, Duncan." He eyed the Ensign's human features. "I don't mean to be rude, but are you human?"

  "Half," answered Duncan. "My father was human, my mother was Domarist."

  Jack had heard of the Domarist and knew them to be intelligent and peace-loving. "If you're half Domarist, what're you doing out here flying a fighter?"

  Duncan shrugged. "It's all I know. My older brother was my flight leader, and when he was my age, my father was his flight leader. I was even born on a carrier."

  "Really..." Jack pondered. "Well tell me about your father."

  Duncan thought for a moment. "Well I didn't know him very well... he died when I was still pretty young."

  "Tell me what you remember."

  "Ok. Well, as far as I know, he was always a pilot. When he came to the UFW, he had already flown in a military called the United States Navy. I'd never heard that name since, or knew where that was, until I talked to Lieutenant Warren and Commander Smiley. They told me they served there too and explained how you and they came to be out here. It's much the same as I remember my father telling it. The Lieutenant also explained you're returning home. I've always wanted to see where my father came from... meet his people. I've always wondered if they were as dedicated, as selfless as he was."

  "Some are, some aren't," commented Jack. "About the same as out here I guess."

  Duncan seemed to drift off for a moment, then snapped back. "He was killed about fifteen years ago during the battle for Lander's Cluster in the Omnecron Sector. My brother raised me since then." He paused again, searching for the right words. "Look, Captain, I think I know why you're asking all this, you want to know where my loyalties are. And I don't blame you, I would too."

  "And?"

  "I was doing my job before," stated Duncan. "I took my orders with faith and executed them to the best of my abilities, with intelligence and integrity. But it's obvious to me the Vice Admiral was mistaken. You are no more criminals or pirates than I. In fact, I see the same qualities I saw in my father... and my father was a good man."

  "And what if we have to defend ourselves from the UFW before we can straighten this all out?" If we can straighten this all out, thought Jack.

  Ensign Taylor considered this for a minute, it wasn't something he'd honestly thought of before. "Well, I feel at home here. And you're closer to being my people than anyone could ever be. So if you say defend, then I defend. If my brother was here, I think he would feel the same." He pinched his lower lip for a second then continued with his eyes closed, reciting from memory, "Defend what you know in your heart to be right and let no other deprive you of your given freedoms with false claims of what is just or unjust." Duncan opened his eyes again. "A man named Voorlak told me that. I think he was a Wiseman of some kind..."

  Jack's eyes widened then crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Indeed!" Will wonders never cease, thought Jack. He adjusted the helmet sitting in his lap and offered his hand to the Ensign. "Welcome to the Freedom Fighters, Mr. Taylor."

  ■ ■ ■

  Paul, his helmet tucked under one arm, pulled on his gloves as he walked across the flight deck next to Jack. "Didn't think you'd be flyin' for a while yet..."

  Jack shrugged as he pulled on his own gloves. "I was starting to go stir crazy, I need to get out."

  Paul nodded. "Yeah, I know... it'll do you some good. So, you're going to let the kid fly, huh?"

 
Anyone good enough for Voorlak is aces with me, thought Jack. "Yeah, why not, seems like a good kid. By the way, I didn't see LaNareef at briefing, where is he?"

  "No idea," said Paul. "He's acting a little weird too. Do yourself a favor, Jack, keep an eye on him when he's around. Don't turn your back on him."

  Steele paused while he slid his helmet on then continued to walk. "What's his problem anyway?"

  "I don't know," said Paul, "I just don't trust him." They stopped at the ladder to the cockpit of Jack's Lancia and Paul turned as Ensign Taylor emerged from the ready room in flight gear. "Pretty amazing, huh?"

  "What?" said Jack, missing the left turn of the conversation.

  "The kid," said Paul.

  Jack glanced at the approaching Ensign then back to Paul. "What about him?" asked Jack.

  "Well, his dad being Lieutenant Charles Taylor," said Paul, as Jack turned away.

  "So? Who's Charles Taylor?" asked Jack absentmindedly as he checked his fighter.

  Paul sighed. "Lieutenant Charles C. Taylor, December 5th 1945. He was the Flight leader of Flight 19." He watched Jack's blank look and continued. "A flight of five Navy Avenger torpedo bombers, departs from Ft. Lauderdale Naval Air Station about two in the afternoon for practice bombing and navigational exercises... and disappears over the Bermuda Triangle... A Martin Mariner PBM Flying Boat disappears the same day searching for them. A total of six planes and twenty seven men in a space of about four or five hours... Stop me when any of this rings a bell."

  Jack was staring wide-eyed at him now. He had remembered reading that story as well as dozens of others, the topic had always fascinated him. "You're kidding!" Paul was shaking his head no. "Jesus..." said Jack, straightening up. "And he spent his life fighting for the UFW..." he pulled his helmet off and shook his head. "It makes you wonder how many of us are really out here..."

  "It makes me wonder if these disappearances are more on purpose than by accident," said Paul.

  "Because so many of them are military," said Jack, catching up. "Like they're looking for special people..." His voice trailed off, remembering what Alité said Voorlak had told her about him being special.

  "Right," confirmed Paul. "Warriors, leaders..."

  "What about the regular abductions?" interrupted Jack. "The regular people who get taken away and returned?"

  Paul slid his helmet on. "I haven't figured that out yet. Maybe they're trying to figure out how to breed their own warriors. I remember reading about abductees recalling medical exams and even sexual encounters."

  Jack put his helmet back on. "Y'know, I always used to wonder about that stuff before... but now, so much makes sense..."

  "I know what you mean," said Paul heading for his own fighter. "I know what you mean..."

  As Jack climbed the ladder to his cockpit, he decided it would be something to ask the Professor about. If anybody would know more about personal abductions, it would probably be Walt.

  ■ ■ ■

  "Sure," said Walt leaning back in the sofa and lighting his pipe. "I know exactly who you're talking about." He watched the smoke curl away, and Jack came back from the bar with two full drinks and handed one to Paul.

  Brian paced around Jack's quarters like a caged animal. "Sit down," said Mike, "your're driving me crazy."

  "Sorry." Brian plopped himself onto the sofa on the other end from the Professor next to Derrik.

  "You were about to say who," prompted Paul.

  "Ah, yes. Well, it's got to be the Acrilee and the Baltec, doesn't it." It was a statement, not a question. "Except the poor sods who get snatched would never know that, of course. They look so much alike, nobody ever notices their physique is different. They just remember the triangular faces, gray-green skin, big black almond shaped eyes... the standard rubbish you generally hear." He puffed on his pipe, the smoke was sweet and aromatic. "Occasionally there are reports on more, but since they may not coincide with what is believed to be the norm, they are discounted as a hoax or a lie, when it's simply a different species."

  "I don't get it," said Brian. "From everything I've read, they're either the typical little green men, like three feet tall or something, or their tall and really skinny. Which is it?"

  "Both," said the Professor, expelling smoke from his mouth. "That's just what I was trying to explain to you..."

  "Well then," interrupted Mike, "why can't we... you, they, whomever is being abducted, just smack the little suckers in the mouth and walk off? Why are we... they, you know what I mean, why are humans so powerless to resist abduction?"

  Walt had ceased his puffing and lifted an eyebrow. "Why did you say we?"

  Mike shrugged, "I dunno'."

  "I think you do," said Walt, setting the smoldering pipe in an ashtray. "Come here." Mike hesitated and glanced at the others. "Come here, lad," said Walt in a fatherly fashion. Mike rose obediently and moved around the coffee table, where the Professor had him sit on the sofa with his back to him. "Hmmm," said Walt. He inspected the back of Mike's head where the spine connected to the skull. "Ahhh, just as I thought." He parted Mike's hair to reveal a mole about four millimeters across.

  "It's a mole," said Paul, moving closer.

  "Not bloody likely," said Walt. "It's a homing beacon. Under the skin just beneath it is a control chip about the size of your little fingernail. First abductions are done as children. The chips are to locate and control after adulthood so they can harvest when they're ready. To them, the human male is like a gorilla is to you. Without the control chip, you could simply rip them limb from limb."

  Jack cleared his throat. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what do they harvest?"

  "It's harmless really," began Walt, "at least physically. Mentally it scars some people who begin to remember when the chip's power runs low, usually about twenty years after it's placed. But I digress. They are harvesting genes. Some human, some animal."

  "What the hell for?" asked Paul.

  Mike leaned back against the couch. "They're sterile," he mumbled, a faraway look in his eyes.

  "You're remembering," said the Professor. Mike nodded. "He's right, of course," continued Walt, retrieving his pipe. "They've been around Earth for thousands of years, they're scientists. At first they studied man to understand themselves more fully, grasp their past..." he re-lit his pipe. "Now they've reached their height of evolution, every species does eventually, the same cycle they all take... they're dying."

  "Dying?" repeated Jack. "But why?"

  "They've evolved to the point where the thirst for knowledge is all consuming. And in that drive for wisdom and knowledge, they forgot themselves, forgot the simple things."

  "No children," said Mike quietly.

  "Quite," said Walt. "They forgot about sexuality, procreation, enjoyment... Sad actually, a good boff now and again does so much for your general well being. Anyway, they've been using human sperm and eggs to produce their own young, with a few DNA alterations, of course. Then their young adults return to learn and have sex with humans, hoping to create natural offspring no doubt. It's not a bad plan, but it has serious flaws. Mainly, the DNA they're using is their own, and since they have no early DNA maps to work from, from a time they were actually fertile, they produce sterile children. They're doomed to extinction eventually I'm afraid."

  "Isn't there anything that can be done?” asked Jack.

  "Theoretically yes..." began the Professor. "Unfortunately the key to breaking that chain of events or preventing the chain from initially occurring has been lost over eons and eons of time and has yet to be rediscovered." He paused to stare at the glowing embers in his pipe. "Do you remember when we discussed a place called Base Alpha?"

  "At dinner once, I think," said Jack. "Wh
y?"

  "Well," began Walt "that's where scientists believe all life in the universe originally began..."

  "Is that where the Big Bang took place?" asked Brian.

  Shaking his head, Walt tamped fresh tobacco into his pipe. "Not necessarily. It is believed the Bang only formed the stars, planets and universe. We theorize life actually began millions of years after that. It was on one of these original planets that had just the right conditions to nurture life, that it was born. Or placed by the gods," he added. "In either case, that's referred to as Base Alpha. We believe we will find the key there."

  "Yeah but with all the different life on all the different planets out here," said Paul, "how could you possibly hope to find the right one?"

  "Well it's even worse than that, my boy, there are thousands of planets out there that have died but held life previously..."

  "Sounds kinda hopeless to me," said Jack.

  "Not quite," corrected Walt, "you just have to think like a detective and look for clues." He re-lit his pipe and savored the smoke before continuing. "You see, everything goes through a cycle; birth, life, death and rebirth. Planets, continents, civilizations, even solar systems... over different time periods, of course, but they all tie in with one another."

  "I'm not sure I understand, Uncle," said Derrik, his brow furrowed. "How did life get to the other planets?"

  "Well, plant life existed in one form or another on many planets, but intelligent life started on Base Alpha. By the time the Alphans' civilization had progressed to the point of space travel, their planet was dying. So they ventured outward, looking for new planets to colonize and preserve their existence. As this occurred, the new civilizations they created went through a degeneration and rebirth process, losing then relearning technology. As this happened, their planets aged and began to die. Again they moved outward." He puffed his pipe as everyone sat quietly waiting for him to continue. "If you think of each one of those civilizations as a pebble and the reaction it causes when you drop it in a pond, you will remember that they produce outwardly moving ripples. Well soon there were three pebbles, then ten, then fifty, later a hundred... all moving out and about. As planets die, others are born and yet again others reborn. The cycle goes on."