Pilot: Chapter 9

Chapter 9 is posting early because I won't be near a computer on Wednseday. Enjoy. v

Chapter 9

Elena was led into the dining area of the ship. The aroma of bacon and syrup stained the air and her stomach rumbled in response. Heat crept up her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said. Her grandfather laughed.

“I suppose we did miss dinner last night,” he said. “My apologies at the oversight.” Elena looked around the dining room. A central table was laid with snowy linens and sparkling crystal. Around the sides were various stations where one could have waffles or an omelet prepared by the person manning that station. Remembering her favorite Sunday morning weakness, her grandfather led her directly to the waffle station. “They have strawberries,” he said. Elena smiled.

“Of course they do,” She replied. “You can’t have a waffle with out strawberries.” Alexandro left her to have her waffle made. By the time the chef handed her a warm plate, Alexandro had returned with his own plate. Elena looked at his dish.

“I guess they had mushrooms,” she commented, looking down at his omelet.

“Of course,” he replied. “You can have an omelet without mushrooms. It would be uncivilized.” They made their way to the table and took their seats. Other Council members loaded their plates and did likewise. A starched and pressed waiter appeared to Elena’s left.
“Would you care for a beverage madam?” He asked.

“Coffee would be nice,” she replied.

“Regular or decaf madam?” he asked.

“Regular,” she said. She waited for the other questions usually accompanying a coffee order, but they never came. Instead a simple cup of black coffee was placed beside her plate. The others around the table were not asked for their preference, drinks were simply placed in front of them by the efficient staff.

“It’s because you are new,” Peter said taking the seat across from her.

“Oh?” she asked.

“Yes, most of us dine here often enough that our tastes are known.”

“I see,” she said. “So you travel aboard the Lorenzo often?” She asked, as she cut a small bite from her waffle and raised it to her lips. The strawberries smelled sweet and fresh, complementing the warm waffle. The melted butter filled the square holes and completed it. She took a bite smiling at the taste. It brought back images of lazy Sunday’s spent with her grandfather.

Waffles were the only thing he was ever able to cook with out risking a fire. Personally, she always thought this was due more to the built in timer than his skill with a griddle. Sunday, was also the day Marcus and Carla took off. Carla was the cook and general housekeeper at Alexandro’s house. Elena could still see the faint lines of worry that would crease her forehead as she left on Saturday evening. Leaving a reckless child and a crazy old man alone to wreak havoc on the orderly house she left behind never set well with her. Thinking back on all the damage they wrought over the years when it was just she and her grandfather, Elena found herself sympathizing with Carla’s assessment.

“The Lorenzo is the primary gathering vessel for the Council and we have had to meet a bit more often as of late.” Peter answered.

“Is it?” She responded, pulling her mind from her memories.

“You didn’t know?” he asked.

“Therese was always the one who paid more attention to politics,” She said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the muscles tighten in her grandfather’s jaw. Her lack of political interest had always been a sore point between them. “I’m just a pilot.” Her grandfather sighed and asked a question of John Havers who was seated on his other side.

Elena took a deep breath and let it go. Sore points were a matter of private family discussion. She turned her attention back to Peter. She noticed his eyes slide between her and Alexandro and realized he had not missed the exchange. Luckily he was too polite to mention it.

“Hardly just a pilot, I would say.” Peter commented. He broke his scone in half and picked up a knife. “Many pilots are still trying to break a few of your records.” He spread clotted cream on his scone. Elena smiled, a bit uncomfortable with the implied praise. She hadn’t set out to break any records, at least not intentionally. A matter which usually raised Alexandro’s pride and Therese’s ire.

“I believe I’ve met your cousin Therese.” Peter continued. “She favors you in coloring a bit although I remember her being a little taller.”

“Yes she is a good three or four inches taller than I.” Elena said. In truth Therese was exactly three and one quarter’s inch taller than Elena, a fact Therese made certain Elena knew.

“And her hair is longer.”

“It would be hard not to be,” Elena commented with a smile, running her hand through her hair. Most pilot’s either kept their hair long so that it could be tied back and out of the way while ship board or cut it nearly as short as the men’s hair. Elena’s chin length bob was quite an anomaly among the pilots.


“I saw her last month at Danvers.” He said. Elena nodded and smiled.

“That makes sense. It quickly became her favorite haunts once she was old enough to get in the door.” Long before Elena was born a man named Michael Danvers had established a bar of sorts at the docking facility where people could come and talk council politics, possibly even snagging the ear of a council member or two for a few minutes. Michael Danvers had long since turned to dust, his grave lost and forgotten but the bar he established still played an essential part in the unofficial daily business of the Guild. Absently Elena wondered if any of her accomplishments would be remembered in such a way.

“Have you ever been there?”

“Once,” Elena answered. “It wasn’t really to my taste.” On her right she heard her grandfather’s snort of laughter and knew he was monitoring her conversation with Peter. She frowned in his general direction but couldn’t fault his derision for her massive understatement. Her first trip to Danvers had ended in what could politely be termed a brawl. As Therese later pointed out, the first ever brawl Danvers had ever seen, earning Elena yet another record breaking feat. Elena disliked fighting and regretted the embarrassment it caused her family but could not find remorse in her for breaking Troy Anderson’s nose.

“I see,” Peter said. Idly she wondered if he did or if he would find a way to ferret the old story into the light. To her relief, he let the topic of politics drop. “Alexandro tells me you have built quite an impressive enterprise in the years you have been gone.”

“Calabrese Imports,” her grandfather said, giving up all pretense of ignoring the conversation. “It is magnificent.”

“Thank you,” Elena said. “I don’t know that I would refer to it as an impressive enterprise but I am quite proud of it.” Elena’s empty plate was whisked away and her coffee cup refilled. She took a deep sip of the fresh coffee, unsure what else to say about her business. She knew Peter would just as easily see the links for his business as her grandfather had and the thought made her uncomfortable. Thinking about working with her grandfather was one thing. She knew and trusted him. He may be Council but she tried very hard not to delve too deeply into those details of his life.

Peter was a different matter. The stories involving him were always dark and usually frightening. ‘Would I find those same stories about grandfather if I looked?’ she wondered silently. ‘Perhaps,’ she was forced to admit. ‘Which may be why I don’t look to hard at the politics.’

“From what I have heard you are being quite modest,” he said. Elena raised an eyebrow.

“Stories from who?” She asked. “Grandfather first saw my place when he came to pick me up and he hasn’t had time to relate what he saw as we went straight into the council chambers.” Elena narrowed her eyes and cut them towards her grandfather. He once again appeared to be deep in conversation with John Havers. John had a slightly bemused look on his face. Elena looked back at Peter and saw the tips of his ears had reddened.

“Yes, well I believe my brother Nickolas was passing through your fair city a while ago and stopped to take a look. His description was quite favorable. Perhaps there will be time for me to have a look inside while we are taking care of this situation.”

“Perhaps,” Elena said allowing the subject to drop. After all nothing more needed to be said. Nick was his brother’s right hand man and as her home was far removed from the normal course of Guild business, Peter would have had to send Nick specifically to see what she was up to. While a part of her understood the suspicion, the fact she was spied upon rankled. At the other end of the table Siobhan stood and walked over to them.

“Elena,” she began. “Riko and I are retiring to the library. Would you care to join us or would you prefer to see if Peter has another foot he would like to try swallowing?” Elena smiled and realized the question was more rhetorical than anything else. Her presence was requested and required. She stood up.

“I would be delighted, thank you. Mr. Baranov should finish his scone before trying another foot.” Elena turned towards the table. “If you gentlemen would excuse me, Mr. Baranov. Grandfather.” Elena stepped away from the table, following Siobhan out of the dining area and into the corridor.

Pilot: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Council recorder sat with his hands poised above the keys of his machine, not looking at anyone. Elena realized that the Council had respected her enough to give her the privacy to answer personal questions without a witness. It was not a courtesy she would have expected of them and she felt grateful.

The recorder began clacking away at his machine and as no one was speaking Elena assumed he was recording the filing information that stated date time and location. He clattered to a stop and looked up at the Council.

“Please state your name for the record,” Peter said.

“Elena Bastianne Calabrese,” she responded.

“Our records show that you have been absent from the Guild for five years. Is this correct?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Let the record show the Council has been satisfied that the reasons Elena Calabrese chose to leave the Guild have no bearing upon the current matter. The Council is satisfied with her account.” Peter shot a look at Alex who frowned at Elena, the grooves on either side of his mouth deepening into canyons but he remained silent.

“And during this time did you receive any form of financial support from members of your family still associated with the Guild?”

“No,” Elena replied wondering where this was actually going. All she wanted to do was pass the problems Ian and the military represented and go home. Riko smiled encouragingly at her and her grandfather refused to meet her eyes. It was clear he was here for the Council but would not interfere. She was on her own.

“And did you return to the Guild for reasons of monetary gain or reward?” Peter asked, interrupting her thoughts. She focused solely on him allowing everything else to slip away.

“No,” she replied. Peter nodded.

“Then let the record show that Elena Bastianne Calabrese has stood as an independent two years past the required three and proven she is a Friend to the Guild and has chosen to return without the promise of monetary gain nor under duress. She is therefore under Council law regarded as the head of her own family.” Peter finished and the recorder click clacked the words into council record. Elena swallowed hard.

Essentially she was now only bound by official Council law and allowed to run her own affairs as she saw fit while operating with the Guild instead of being bound to her grandfather’s will. Normally such an honor and responsibility would not be placed on the shoulders until they had much more age on them than she had.

Elena also realized that she had also effectively been brought back into the Guild with one easy step. She fought back a snap of temper at the assumption that she would want to return. After all they had not asked her. However, a sly thought whispered in the back of her mind, there might be some benefits to being a head of house in the eyes of the council.

The only benefit she knew of was that Therese could not hold her choices against her in public or she would risk the direct censor of the Council. Therese would no doubt find some way around it but it would annoy her to no end. No doubt there were other benefits besides discomfiting her cousin and at some point she would have to find out what they actually were.

“On the fifteenth of this month, Elena Calabrese contacted her family’s council member advocate and mentioned that the military had taken an interest in both herself and Ian Jensen, a former Guild member under the House of Barton. Given the relatively public way in which this information was conveyed details were few. The Council would like to hear a fuller account from Ms. Calabrese.” Peter inclined his head towards Elena, indicating she now had the floor.

Elena took a deep breath and related her Sunday morning adventure to the council. She noticed her grandfather’s knuckles go white when she mentioned her street corner abduction and caught the look of surprise on both Riko and Siobhan’s faces when she reached the USS Navigator.

“They passed to me a map showing the stretch of water where the Marta Channel is located although McMillan did point to a location on the map that was at least three leagues off.”

“Had you been in the vicinity of the Marta Channel recently?” Peter asked.

“No,” Elena replied.

“Yet you know he was off in his estimation of the channel’s location?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I am a pilot,” Elena responded with a frown. “I don’t have to actually see the channels to know where they are.” Riko leaned forward and raised an eyebrow at Peter.

“Let the record show, Inoue Riko wishes to raise a question.” The reporter clacked away recording Riko’s name. She didn’t spare him a glance but transferred her gaze from Peter directly to Elena. The weight of those eyes made Elena want to squirm. She tried to resist.

“How far can you stand from a channel and tell its location?”

“I have never had a problem locating them anywhere I have gone on this side of the channels. On the other side, a day’s journey can tell me where each Earth-bound channel rests. I have a harder time with those leading to channels on other worlds but if I have been there once, I can usually tell within two hours before entering the channel where on that world the channel is located and make the necessary adjustments for the ship.”

Riko’s eyebrow once again rose in surprise and she began calling out the names of Earth’s channels; the Marta, the Felecia, The Gerta, the Yolanda, the Mei Ling, each named for the first woman known to pilot a ship through their waters. Elena closed her eyes and pictured her mental map of the Earth’s oceans, each Channel clearly marked in her mind as if etched in fire.

As each name was spoken, Elena called out the latitude and longitude of the channel. As she spoke Siobhan pulled a blackberry from her coat pocket and began scrolling through. Elena opened her eyes. Riko ceased listing channels well before the list was exhausted and turned towards Siobhan. Her fellow council member nodded in confirmation and Elena guessed the blackberry to contain an e-mail or something with the current known locations of the channels on it.

“Can you also tell the current depths in the same manner?” Riko asked.

“Yes,” Elena prepared to list the current figures but Riko waved her to a halt.

“Incredible,” Riko said. Elena frowned.

“Just because I no longer actively pilot doesn’t mean my skills faded completely away.” She said, realizing that her pride had been pricked. She had been a damn good pilot, one of the best if truth were stated. Having her skills dismissed so easily simply because she fell pry to the Calling hurt more than she imagined it would.

“Of course not,” Peter said soothingly. “No one here meant to imply otherwise.”

“My questions are complete.” Riko informed Peter. He nodded and turned back to Elena.

“So you believe the military took a ship through the Marta Channel?” Peter asked. Elena frowned at the question.

“No,” she replied.

“Why not?”

“Even if McMillan was lying about the location in order to trick me, by August 25th the Marta Channel would have been too shallow to allow passage for even a regular channel rider. The USS Navigator sounded substantially larger.”

“So you believe they did not take a ship through as they claimed but were trying to gather information?” Peter continued. Elena thought of the pictures of lost personnel and shook her head.

“I have thought about it and I believe the military did manage to take a ship through. I can only guess at the size but I believe it was large. The only Channel it would have been able to pass through would be the Blood Channel and they would have had to go at least a month earlier than the stated date to still allow passage through. Any time after Mid September and even the Blood Channel would be too shallow to allow entry.”

“The Blood Channel has been closed for over 100 years,” Peter said. “How is it that you know if it?”

“The blockade placed on the other side of the channel to prevent completed passage would stop anyone from using it but it is still a Channel and I can sense it like any of the others.” Peter nodded.

“Ian has not been mentioned yet.” Alex said, his desire to hear how his family fit into the scenario overriding council protocol.

“This is true,” Peter, said, annoyance flashing briefly across his face. “Elena would you please state how and when Ian Jensen became involved.”

“As I was being escorted from the building I saw Ian with others from the military.”

“You are sure it was him?” Alex shot out.

“I called out his name and he turned towards me. He recognized me.”

“Was he being coerced?” he shot the question out.

“I do not know,” she responded.

“Could the others have been guards?”

“Possibly.”

“How did the military react?” Peter asked, cutting off Alex’s rapid-fire questions.

“Smith was escorting me and he stepped between me and Ian and tried to hustle me towards the gate. I had the impression he did not want me to see Ian.”

“Is it possible that he did not want Ian to see you?” Peter asked and Alex turned red with suppressed comments. Elena thought about it, running the scene through her mind.

“It is possible.” She said. Peter looked at his fellow council members.

“I believe the matters of earlier this fall need to be brought up at this time. Are there any objections?” Silence met his question and he nodded, turning back to Elena.

“The council routinely sends ships to check on the barrier at the Blood Channel, to make sure it is still holding and that no one from either side has attempted to tamper with it. Earlier this fall, in September,” he said with a smile, “Debris was found floating by the entrance to the Channel. Evidence suggests that it was much larger than a normal Channel rider and it was believed that someone tired of the weight restrictions enforced by the usual commercial channels. It seems logical to assume that it was the remains of the military ship we found.”

“It is logical,” Elena agreed, “But it doesn’t make much sense.”

“Logic does not make much sense?” Peter asked. The laughter in his voice brought a blush to Elena’s cheeks.

“No pilot would attempt the Blood Channel, even for a deeper drought. Within ten miles of the Channel any pilot would sense the blockade and know that it was impassable. The blockade was meant to be as discrete as a blinking neon arrow in a Bugs Bunny Cartoon.”

“This is true.” Riko said. “It was meant as a glaring warning. A pilot would have to be crazy.” She blinked a few times. “Maybe they have a crazy pilot.”

“If that is so then they have no pilot left as the pilot and crew would have been killed when the ship smashed into the barrier and all on board were sent drifting into space.”

“You are correct then,” Peter said. “In this case logic makes no sense. The only ones who would know the truth of this matter would be the military and Ian. In this case I suggest that Ian be brought in for an accounting. All in favor?” Peter raised the motion and in half a breath it passed with Alex abstaining in the face of the yes votes. “Are there any changes to what was decided earlier?” Silence met his question and he nodded.

“Very well, in the morning I will accompany Elena back to the military base and we will settle this matter.” Elena fought not to roll her eyes. Peter could have just come to her apartment in the first place and saved her a trip. But the council had operated as it had for centuries and was not likely to change now.

“I call this meeting officially to a close. Thank you Ms. Calabrese for your assistance.”

“You are welcome,” she answered as the reporter clattered to a halt, stood up and wheeled his machine out of the council chamber, closing the door behind him.

“I believe brunch is being served in the dining area,” Peter said. The council members stood and Elena was momentarily unsure what to do. “Will you join us Ms. Calbrese?” Peter asked.
“I would be delighted,” she said rising to her feet. Now that she had finished her interrogation, Elena’s butterflies had calmed and her stomach was intent on reminding her she had skipped both dinner and breakfast. Her grandfather smiled at her and for a second the stony mask of the Council member crumbled and she could see the relief written large in every line of his face. He offered her his arm and they followed the rest of the council up the stairs. Elena shook her head. The Council was about to go up against the military. ‘It might be fun to watch,’ she thought to herself. ‘Even if it does get me killed.’

Pilot: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Elena blinked her eyes open momentarily confused by her surroundings. She had slumped in her seat while sleeping and could feel the seam in the leather car seat pressed against her face. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yawning hugely. Elena looked around at her grandfather. He was sitting as he had been when she drifted off, notebook open and pen scratching away. He looked well rested and crisp as if the journey had not affected him at all. She frowned in his direction.

“We will be there shortly,” he commented without looking up. His movements were smooth and easy but Elena had known him all her life and caught the snap of tension in his voice. She suddenly felt queasy. Elena pulled a compact out of her purse and grimaced when she saw the seam line running down her cheek from where it had been pressed into the seat.

‘Great,’ she thought. ‘I get to meet the high and mighty Council while looking like Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein.’ She ran her hand through her hair in an attempt to instill some form of order. As they pulled up to the docks she gave it up as a lost cause and resigned herself to looking travel worn while possibly being held accountable for treason.

“What time is it?” She asked. Her voice was thick from sleep and she coughed to clear her throat.

“Nearly ten local time.” Elena put her compact away as her grandfather tucked his pen and notebook back into his briefcase.

“I suppose asking if local time and my time are the same as well as where we actually are would be pointless?” Alexandro smiled at her petulant tone.

“We are at the docks.” He opened his door and Elena followed suit. The scent of the sea was strong and she took a deep breath with a smile before she thought to look around. They were in a parking lot by a set of docks and there were warehouses behind them with no distinguishing skyline features she could see. Elena shrugged and followed her grandfather and Marcus as they began walking down the docks and towards the individual piers.

The air was brisk this close to the water and Elena hugged herself for warmth as they walked. She wished she had a warmer jacket but was thankful that the cold air slapped the last of the sleep from her. They reached the last pier and were greeted by a man who rivaled Marcus in size but had a blonde crew cut instead of a brown one. He was even dressed identically to the big man and she wondered if there was a bodyguard uniform she had previously been unaware of. There was no talk as the man led them to a small skiff tied up at the end of the pier. Her grandfather didn’t seem to expect any conversation so she let the matter lie as she settled into a seat.

It didn’t take a genius to see where they were going once the motor was started and they aimed at open water. There appeared to be only one ship anchored off the coast. The yacht gleamed white on the dark water and Elena caught flashes of light winking from the brass fittings as the sun kissed her. She didn’t have much knowledge of pleasure craft but she could easily tell those wanting their tastes for luxury indulged designed this beauty. By her estimation the ship would be able to hold several hundred passengers on an ocean going voyage with ease. It was easily the largest ship she had ever been on and wondered if it had started life as a member of a high end cruise line. As they approached, the name of the ship came into view. She read the large, black scripted letters and felt some of her panic ease.

The Lorenzo was a Council owned vessel, paid for by contributions from all of the Families. Even though she had never seen it she knew of it. The jointly owned ship was held in trust by the Council and served as neutral ground. Violence of any kind was not allowed on neutral ground. No matter what the council ruling, she would be safe while on board. Her relief was tempered by the booming reality the ship represented. She could enjoy seeing her grandfather again and be amused by his lack of directional sense but this was serious business.

The skiff pulled along side the ship and docking clamps were lowered and attached to the bow and prow. Slowly the machinery turned and the little skiff was lifted out of the water and hauled up to the deck. The wind caused the skiff to rock like a cradle and Elena resisted the urge to look over the side to see the receding waterline.

Once the skiff was secured the large, unnamed man jumped out. Marcus did as well, with her grandfather following at a slower pace. Elena stood and prepared to do the same. She was surprised by the hand Marcus offered for assistance, but took it gratefully and smiled. He smiled back and squeezed her hand in reassurance. The distance was greater than Elena anticipated and without Marcus’ support she would have toppled.

“This way please,” Her grandfather said indicating the open door the other man had used before Elena could look around and get her bearings. She took in his stance and tone of voice and realized that he was purely a Council representative here and she would have to behave accordingly. She swallowed hard, belatedly realizing that was what Marcus had tried to tell her with the hand squeeze. Elena took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She crossed the deck to the open door and descended the staircase.

The staircase let out into a room that fully lived up to the opulence she expected from such a pleasure craft. Everywhere wood gleamed and fittings shone. The fact that the people arrayed around the room were just as well acquainted with the smaller merchant craft as she was had no bearing on the power she could almost see pulsing through the air. The room had been turned into a council chamber and Elena sifted through her memory to place names with faces. The names she had grown up with but only one other besides her grandfather had she seen before.

Her eyes scanned the room, her mind working quickly. The seven small tables had been arranged in an arc with an empty chair in the center. At the far edge of the arc sat a small boned woman with black hair, liberally streaked with white and neatly trimmed in a layered cut still long enough to tie back when needed, and a very no nonsense air about her. Elena guessed her to be Siobhan Connelly. She was dressed in an off white cable knit sweater and camel colored slacks. Her legs were crossed at the ankle and neatly tucked under her. On her desk sat a small teapot and a mug of tea. Both were bold red in color and Elena remembered hearing Siobhan preferring bold colors in everything but her clothing.

To her left was a large man with thinning brown hair styled in a comb over so thin the hairs looked like pencil lines across his scalp. He had a bushy mustache that more than made up for the lack of cranial covering and was a large walrus of a man who no doubt looked even larger between the two ladies. Elena was betting that he was Robert Jensen. His appointment to the council had only taken place two years before Elena left. It had been somewhat of a surprise for reasons Elena couldn’t recall.

Politics had never been her driving interest as it was with Therese. He wore a brown suit and his feet appeared to be planted firmly in front of him indicating that he would not stand for any tomfoolery. Elena personally thought he would be the kind of man to actually use words like tomfoolery in a sentence and not think it at all silly.

Inoue Riko, the only other woman on the council, sat to his left and was as delicate looking as a china doll. Her black hair was neatly bound behind her head and even though she had not a speck of gray, Elena knew her to be nearly of an age with her grandfather. The lines were starting to show around her eyes though even though the rest of the face was not heavily lined. Those were the kind of lines one would get from too many years as a Pilot, squinting into the sun. Siobhan had them as well. Even at her age, Elena had already seen the faint tracings on her own skin.

Next to Riko was the only one of the six she had met. Peter Baranov. He was young compared to the rest and had come into the council when he was a little younger than Elena. He was about the same age as her cousin Nate, possibly a little younger and he smiled at her as she walked in. Peter was wearing a black three-pieced suit and dress shoes. The thought of dress shoes on a ship almost sent Elena into fits of nervous giggles. She was used to much smaller working vessels where the shiny gloss would soon where off and the owner would curse their lack of tread. With a ship this large though she suppose d that wasn’t much of a concern. He had soft brown hair that was neatly trimmed yet always managed to look slightly mussed.

Continuing around the arc she found John Havers, a man so black he seemed blue. The suit he wore was also black and it made the white collar of his shirt seem to glow. His face was completely blank. He was built like a linebacker, which contrasted sharply with Alex Barton on his left who was milk pale and gaunt almost to the point of painfulness. Alex had long tapered fingers that reminded her of a cave spider she had come across while spelunking one year and somewhat frightened her just as the spider had. It didn’t help that he was scowling at her.

‘He would be the head of Ian’s family,’ she thought to herself, realizing that was probably the reason for the scowl. Her grandfather nudged her towards the central chair and left to take his seat in the semi-circle, filling the one unoccupied desk. Marcus fell in neatly behind him, taking his place in the back row of standing bodyguards. Elena took her seat, her pose unconsciously mimicking Siobhan’s as she tucked her feet underneath her and clasped her hands loosely in her lap. She willed herself not to show any outward signs of panic or tension.

Elena had no clue about council protocol and decided the wisest course of action would be to keep all her answers polite and to not speak unless asked a question. Peter rapped his fist on the desk, calling everyone’s attention to him. Elena heaved an inward sigh of relief that Alex was not in charge of proceedings. Peter may have had the more ruthless reputation but he at least was not facing her with open hostility. The trick would be to keep it that way.

“Elena Calabrese, thank you for joining us today. The Council recognizes that you have left the Guild and have lived as an independent for five years time.” Elena caught a tone to his words, realizing they were important but not quite understanding their full meaning. “We thank you for returning to us now to bring potentially damaging information to our attention.” Peter paused but did not really seem to expect a response from her so she kept her mouth shut. He cleared his throat and continued.

“We realize that the reasons a person may choose to remove themselves from the affairs of the guild are often times quite personal. For this reason the reasons are usually only given to the head of the family and if the head is satisfied it remains a family matter.” Elena felt her eyebrows rise in surprise and blinked hard. If she had given it any thought she would have supposed the Council already know why she had left.

“However in this case we must pry into what is essentially only a family matter to determine if it has any bearing on the information you bring.” Elena saw Alex lean forward in his seat a little and she realized he was hoping for something that would discredit her potential accusations of Ian.

“The answer you give will not leave this Council but I must ask, Elena why did you leave the Guild?” Elena felt heat in her cheeks and took a deep breath.

“About seven years past I began to feel The Calling. It was growing stronger and five years ago rather than endanger my ship by risking The Calling growing strong enough to cause me to pilot the Wind Dancer out of the channels and into the black, I left the Guild.” Siobhan and Riko winced in sympathy even as Alex leaned back in disappointment.

“You are awfully young to have The Calling come upon you,” Siobhan said, her voice filled with understanding. Elena recalled The Calling had grounded several of her family’s pilots as well. It wasn’t something that was ever talked about and Elena tried to swallow the embarrassment of having it discussed in such a public way.

“If you please, Elena,” Riko asked, her voice whispery soft with an steel blade edge, “when did you begin your training?”

“When I was about seven.” Elena answered.

“Ah, that would have been before the deaths of your parents?” Elena’s gut clenched with the question.

“About a year before,” she said, swallowing down emotions.

“You went to live with your grandfather then, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you primarily reside during this time?”

“Mostly at the docking facility,” Elena said. Riko and Siobhan exchanged a heavy glance Elena could not interpret.

“And who was your primary instructor?” Siobhan asked taking over for Riko. The men stayed silent, after all they were not pilots.

“Deana Lang,” Elena said, “of the House of Felini.”

“And do you still have the headaches?” Elena blinked hard.

“I didn’t realize they were related. I thought the dreams might be, but thought the headaches were just the aftermath.” Riko and Siobhan exchange another glance and Elena wondered if the nightmares were common. That they were a symptom of some larger ill and not something unique to just her would make her feel marginally better about the scenario.

“We would like to discuss this further with you but that can wait,” Riko said. She turned towards Peter. “We are satisfied, you may proceed,” she said with a rather imperious wave of her hand. Peter inclined his head in her direction.

“Are there any more preliminary questions?” Peter asked. Alex leaned forward, nearly popping out of his seat like a living Jack-in-the-box. Somehow Elena had known he would and thought she could probably guess the question.

“Can you tell us how you know Ian Jensen?” It was the question she expected.

“I went to his cousin Eliza’s sweet sixteen dance. She and I are the same age.”

“You are friends with Eliza?”

“We are on friendly terms,” Elena responded. “We were a small class and everyone was invited. I haven’t actually seen her in over 10 years.”

“How would you describe your contact with Ian?” Alex’s eyes gleamed.

“I believe someone introduced him and I said nice to meet you. He was ten at the time I believe. I saw him once again a few years later at a lecture my cousin Mateo was giving. I think I said hello.” Alex leaned back in his chair, his face blank. Peter waited to see if Alex would comment. No further comments arose from him.

“Any further questions?” Silence was his answer. “Very well then. What has been spoken remains a private matter and not a part of the public record.” Peter looked towards the man behind Siobhan who nodded. He left his position and opened a door opposite the one Elena had used to enter the room.

“We are ready for you now,” he said and then returned to his place, leaving the door open behind him. The man who entered was rather non-descript. He was not too tall, and not too short and had a face you would forget moments after he had left the room. He wheeled in a small cart with a machine that bore a keen resemblance to a court recorder’s typewriter. He then went back for a chair, closing the door behind him. He settled himself at the machine as though quite aware everyone was watching him. When he was settled he looked up at Peter. Peter nodded.

“Let the official recording begin.”

Pilot: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They stepped from the shelter of Elena’s apartment building and onto the street. Both shivered in reaction to the brisk wind tugging at the edge of their clothing.

“I should have worn a coat,” her grandfather said with a bit of a rueful smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I have anything that would fit you,” she answered. He waved away her concern.

“It is not far and I have endured much worse.” She smiled at him. “It is good to see you doing so well out here on your own. The family was concerned.” Elena felt her smile slipping into a bit of a sneer and turned her face from her grandfather. With the exception of her cousin Mateo there were few members of her family she spared a thought for. And while Mateo was friend as well as blood, to keep in contact with her after she had left would have proved extremely problematic.

“Not concerned enough to visit,” she said. Her words puffed in the air. Therese declared Elena shunned by the family when she left and none of them had bothered to call or drop a post card in the past five years. “How worried could they be?” She asked.

“It has been quite busy,” Her grandfather answered. Alexandro Calabrese had never admitted to the rift between Elena and Therese and she didn't expect him to start now. When pressed he would simply claim they were both passionate women and often held differences of opinion, nothing more. They were blood and there was love, at least to his mind. Elena shook her head letting it drop. Once his mind was made up, changing it was often more trouble than it was worth. While she had very few feelings towards Therese, her cousin actively hated her, of that she was sure.

“There is to be a marriage soon,” he continued. “Nathanial has found a mate.”

“That’s nice,” Elena responded. Nate was Mateo’s older brother and not a bad sort of person. He was about fifteen years her senior and so their paths rarely crossed. “Is she a Pilot?”

“Yes, of the house of Carloti,” he answered. He smiled, pleased that she had bothered to ask. “The wedding will take place next fall, at the end of the busy season so they can take a nice long honeymoon. You’ll be coming of course.”

“I’m invited?” Elena asked with some surprise.

“Of course,” Alexandro said. “You are family.” Elena saw the calculated gleam slide through his eyes before he blinked and smiled. “All of the family will be there.”

“I see,” Elena said. She had the feeling her grandfather would bring pressure to bear to have her invited and a grumpy time would be had by all. She put tomorrow’s troubles away. Today’s agenda was already more than full.

Luckily the store was but a handful of steps away. Soon they could pause the family chatter and with luck the council would be meeting close enough that she wouldn’t have too much catching up on family matters to endure. Elena tugged her keys from her pocket and reached towards the door handle. Her grandfather reached out and grabbed her wrist. She looked up at him over her shoulder.

“They do love you.” His face was serious and his eyes pleading. Elena sighed.

“I know,” she said. “In their own way. I’m sure they have been busy.” She kept her tone neutral. He let her wrist go.

“Yes, for all five years,” he said softly. There was a sadness in his voice that made Elena swallow hard. She turned back to the door, unlocked it and pushed it open.

“I have to leave some details for while I’m away. Feel free to look around, just don’t open the back door. Those alarms are still active.” He nodded and turned to walk around the store. His slow measured stride let her know he was taking in all the details. Elena smiled as she took Emily’s chair behind the register. They had worked hard this afternoon and the store showed their efforts, even in the dim half-light. She was proud of what she built and even with the inner turmoil it caused, she was proud he could see it. Elena slid a notebook out and began to make a list.

She usually dealt with the details surrounding corporate client purchases. While she knew any of her staff were more than capable of dealing with the clients, the logistical arrangements were usually left to her. She jotted down notes for the ones booked for the next few days as well as a few suggestions. Between Max and TJ she knew all would be well. Even Emily would do well with the clients if she didn’t let the scale bother her. The individual clients she could handle. The ones seeking large-scale purchases frightened her because she thought there was too much at stake. Elena planned to work on that with her but doubted this would be the time for a road test. She finished her notes and left the open notebook on the counter. She stood up and her grandfather circled over to her.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded.

“Just finished. Have you seen everything?”

“I doubt I could see everything if given a week locked in here alone. This is quite a fine place. But it is time we leave. I will call Marcus.” Alexandro pulled out his cell phone and pressed the needed buttons.

“We are ready to leave,” he said. There was a pause as he listened. “Of course,” he replied. He turned off the phone and tucked it into his pocket. “Do you need assistance locking up?”

“No,” she replied. They went to the front door and after shooing him outside she reset the alarms and locked the door. “So where do we go now?”

“This way, if you please,” he said leading her away from the store. They walked in silence, for which Elena was grateful. She didn’t think the quiet was necessary as her grandfather was muttering under his breath as he walked. She smiled and kept her thoughts to herself. His sense of direction was not the greatest in the world and no doubt he had simply memorized his instructions from Marcus. She was content to follow along and not derail them. He sighed with relief as they reached the street corner and Marcus pulled a car to a halt in front of them. He opened the door and Elena slid inside. He followed and Marcus led them out of the city.

“You shouldn’t laugh at your elders,” her grandfather said peevishly. Marcus laughed, a deep, low, rumble of a laugh.

“Was he muttering to himself again?”

“Yes,” Elena replied.

“I have no need to learn my way around. On ship I have a Pilot and on land I have Marcus. I need only know where I want to go, not how to get there.” Elena smiled and shifted to get comfortable in her seat. A few minutes of silence passed.

“I greatly liked your store,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Tell me how do you come by your goods?” Elena smiled at the question.

“I travel, Grandfather. We are small and somewhat high end. I go on buying trips and sell what I find.”

“From companies?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time I talk to individual or small scale artisans and craftsmen who need outlets for their goods.”

“Interesting,” he replied. She could tell that his thoughts were circling around and he was trying to place her comments into one of his schemes. She sighed knowing it was inevitable.

“These last five years have not been kind to us,’ he began. “Our world is changing.”

“Oh,” Elena replied. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to know details?” He waved the comment away with a twisted smile.

“That is politics. This is business,” he replied but she could tell he was thinking more about his words before he said them. “The world in general has changed. Before when we brought a shipment in we could invent stories to cover our supply lines.” His voice slipped into a sing-song type of tone as he imitated one of the merchants.

“Come see our wares, Signore, taken from the far-east, from the distant kingdoms at the edge of the world.” He chuckled to himself and his voice dropped into its normal range. “Now they want to know what Province it came from, the year it was built, the artist who designed it and exactly what sort of materials went into it. Sometimes they even ask how the materials were harvested to make certain it was done in an Earth-friendly way.” He snorted. “We can hardly tell them the truth can we? Of course Signore, it is earth friendly, neither the materials nor the artist are from the Earth. I am certain that would go over well.” He shook his head.

“And these shows the televisions are so fond of making,” he continued. “The crime investigation ones where they use microscopes and testing on the least little things.” He shivered theatrically. “It is not good for business. What if one of them tests a rosewood cabinet and discovers not only that it is not rosewood but not really any type of wood at all?”

“You could pass it off as synthetic in some cases.” Elena commented but only half-heartedly. While her grandfather was known to go over the top about many things he did raise a point. He waved his hand in the air and blew a raspberry with his mouth.

“And the locations of our suppliers? Do we show them the bill of sale? The provenance? Or did the goods just drop out of the sky like gifts from an over generous God?” Elena grimaced. She knew her grandfather well enough to know what he wanted her to say and where he wanted to lead her. She shook her head. Some things didn’t change.

“Well logically, for a price you could probably get some of the artisans in some of the far off places you say you import from to sign off on the items and give a bill of sale for the records.”

“Ah,” he said, obviously pleased she had gone along with him. “But to do that we would have to have a network of trusted artisans that we had built a relationship with.”

“Yes you would.” She answered simply. He looked at her, his eyes piercing, willing her to say something. Elena kept her mouth shut and stared right back at him, reminding herself that she was no longer a part of the guild and therefore not a part of the business. Alexandro smiled and chuckled beneath his breath.

“You would make me ask?” He said teasingly. Elena made her eyes wide and tried to look innocent.

“Ask what?” Marcus’s chuckle rumbled from the front seat.

“She is your granddaughter.” He said.

“Therese never gives me this much trouble and she is my granddaughter.” He replied. Marcus shrugged.

“Elena is not Therese,” he said simply. Alexandro snorted.

“I can tell the difference, you know. I have eyes in my head do I not? Very well,” He continued, turning his attention back to Elena. “You have a connection of artisans that you presumably trust and are more than likely located in the right districts for our purposes. Would you be willing to work with your family to assist us in making these connections?” Elena braced herself to say no. To tell him that when she could no longer be of use to them as a pilot they had ceased to take an interest in her and they could therefore rot for all she cared.

“I don’t know.” She replied, the words surprising herself even as they tumbled from her lips. “I’ll have to think about it.” Elena leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. What had she done? Silence filled the vehicle.

“Therese would have instantly said yes,” her grandfather said. Elena opened her eyes and turned towards him.

“As Marcus pointed out, I am not Therese.” A strangely thoughtful look passed over his face.

“No you are not.” He stared at her as if deep in thought. “You should try and get some sleep. We will have to drive through the night to reached the arranged place in time for the meeting.” Elena nodded and turned away from her grandfather to stare at the dark world beyond the window glass. The wind had whipped the treetops into a frenetic dance and they cast odd shadows when they passed in front of the streetlamps. Rain began to tap on the glass and slide down in diamond droplets. In the reflection Elena saw her grandfather tug his briefcase from under the seat and pull a leather bound volume from its depths. He placed the notebook on top of the briefcase and pulled out a pen, writing as if the briefcase were a laptop desk. Marcus switched on the radio and something soothing and classical filled the dark spaces between them all.

‘I’ll never fall asleep,’ she thought to herself leaning her forehead on the cool glass and closing her eyes. ‘There is no way I could fall asleep.’ It was her last thought before sleep claimed her.

Pilot: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Elena hugged her grandfather and deeply inhaled. To her he always smelled of the sea just before a storm. It was the scent of home. She let him go and unlocked her front door.

"You've cut your hair," he said as they entered the apartment.


"It's actually grown out quite a bit," she told him, absently running her hand through her chin length hair. "There was no reason to keep it long enough to tie back any more." A look of sadness crossed her grandfather's face at her words. She wished she had the power to pull the words back down her own throat. "Um, you are looking well," she said with a bit of a wan smile. He smiled brightly back at her.


"I feel well," he said. "And the family sends their best. Therese says hello." Elena swallowed the sharp report, reminding herself to keep things pleasant. Her cousin Therese had never been her favorite person and had taken great delight in the fact Elena left. Therese was more likely to send a swift kick to Elena's head than a polite hello but heading down that particular pathway would do no one any good.


"I hope she is well," Elena said. Her grandfather settled himself on the couch while Elena locked the door behind them and settled into her favorite chair. Her heart was beating as fast as a rabbit hiding from a hound. Manners dictated the polite small talk and she enjoyed seeing him again but they both knew the reason he was here.


"I stopped by your store today," he said. Elena's eyebrows shot up in surprise.


"I didn't see you," she said.


"No, you were very busy and I just wanted a quick peek around. Calabrese Imports," he spoke the name and Elena felt a sense of pride in the words. She smile. Naming her store with the family name she had done partially for herself, partially to irk Therese and mainly because she knew it would be a sign to her grandfather that she had not completely left the family behind. Ceasing to pilot did not make her any less a Calabrese, regardless of Therese.


"It is a nice space," he continued. "Elegant, charming." Elena felt a warm glow of pride, which she tried without success to tell herself was foolish. "Imports?" he said with a laugh behind the words.


"Imports," she said, he same amusement in her voice. "It is in the blood." He nodded.


"It certainly is. You seem to be doing well with it."


"It was slow getting started but things have been picking up now that we are a bit more established."


"Your father was always good with the business end of things, got that from his mother, God rest them both. I could never make anything but a mess of it. It is good that you inherited that as well as her smile. I'd like to see a bit more of the place if there is time."


"I'd like that." She said. "If we have time." Elena took a deep breath as silence fell between them. The unacknowledged elephant in the room had just read its head. Deciding that enough small talk had passed that courtesy had been served, Elena decided to move matters along.


"I didn't expect an in-person visit," she started. "I thought you might call back."


"Yes," her grandfather said slowly. "The council is feeling a bit edgy based on the players in our current drama." He leaned forward and his eyes met hers. She realized that he was no longer her grandfather but a representative of the council. This was no longer a family conversation.


"I can see that," she said carefully. He nodded, realizing she had noted the change.


"Because you have left the Guild there are some things you are not privy to." Elena swallowed, surprised to find the words stung. Such a sentiment she would have expected of Therese but not of her grandfather.


"I understand," she said, carefully keeping her tone neutral. She saw a flash of pain in his eyes before they hardened, council sharp.


"By bringing this information to our attention without promise of personal gain you have been named as Friend of the Guild. This does allow us some freedom in discussion." Elena nodded although privately she had to admit that not having the council suspect her of treason and hold her accountable would be a substantial personal gain in her books.


"It was not known that Ian was working with the military. He left the Guild approximately three years ago. As you are well aware this matter would normally be between him and the head of his family and not a public concern. However, once he left the Guild he disappeared." He stopped and watched Elena, judging her reaction to his words.


She blinked hard and took a deep breath. The council was harder to shake than the IRS. They always knew where those carrying the bloodline were. That they had lost Ian meant he was very careful or had substantial help. Thinking of Smith and McMillan she was betting on the latter as the more likely possibility. She knew the families had known where she was and what she was doing. She was hardly hiding when she used the family name in the name of her business. Foot high letters and publicly listed address were not generally viewed as subtle. Unless it became a matter of public importance, why he left the Guild would be no one's business but his and his blood, just as it had been with her. So Ian had left and was involved with the military on a large enough scale that two ships were built without Council knowledge.


"Good," her grandfather continued. "I see you understand. The council is pleased that you have brought this information to our attention and assures you that you are in no danger of reprisal at this time." Elena raised an eyebrow at the phrasing of the sentence and sensed a giant however looming around the corner.


"The information you provided was, due to the manner in which it was conveyed, rather lacking in details. we would like to hear all of the information you have on this matter. The entire council would like to question you first-hand. Obviously there is too much danger involved for the entire Council to appear here, so transportation has been arranged to convey us to a more secure location." Elena stared at her grandfather, wondering if she had the right to say no. Somehow she doubted it.


"I see," she said. Her brain was working fast. "And when would we need to leave?"


"Shortly," he responded.


"You do realize it is the beginning of my busiest season?"


"We understand the complications." Elena sighed and ran a hand through her hair.


"How long will I need to be gone?"


"Three days should prove sufficient."


"Three days." Elena tapped her finger against her lips. I'll need to make arrangements." She stood up. "I'll need to make arrangements." She stood up. "Please make yourself comfortable," she told him. "There should be some drinks in the fridge if you are interested."


"Thank you," he replied. Elena pulled her phone out of her purse. She walked back into the bedroom so that she could pack as she talked. She dialed Susan's number then pulled a small duffel bag from the floor of her closet. Susan usually managed the store when Elena left on buying trips and she fervently hoped she was up for a three day stint. Elena tossed a few of her clean cloths into the bag and once again bemoaned the lack of clean underwear. She would have to stop somewhere along the way and buy a few new pairs since there was certainly no time to do laundry now. Susan picked up the phone on the third ring and to Elena's relief was more than happy to fill in. Elena promised to leave instructions at the counter before she left town then quickly arranged for two of her seasonal employees to begin work so the place would not be swamped.


By the time she zipped her bag closed, all of the arrangements were made. She returned to the living room and found her grandfather staring at one of the few personal photos she kept out. She didn't have to see it to know it showed her an her grandfather on the deck of his ship, the Wind Danger. She cleared her throat as she entered the room and he hastily placed the framed picture back down on the table and turned around.


"Everything set?" he asked.


"Yeah," she said. "I just need to stop by the store before we leave." He nodded and pulled out his cell phone. He flipped it open and dialed a number from memory. It was answered almost immediately.


"We are ready." He said and flipped the phone closed again, cutting off any possible reply. A knock sounded at the door and Elena opened it to find Marcus filling the door frame with his bulk. Marcus had been her grandfather's muscular shadow for all of Elena's memory. She had not expected him to appear here because she didn't consider her home dangerous. He nodded at her greeting and reached down to pick up her duffel bag.


"Marcus will take your things so it does not appear to anyone watching that you are going out for anything more than the evening."


"Ah," she responded, not certain what else to say. Marcus turned and disappeared down the corridor. No doubt he had already found the back staircase. She shook her head realizing that she had been away from much more than the ship in the time she had been gone.


"Let us now go see your store," her grandfather prompted her.


"Sure," she said ushering him our into the hallway and locking the door behind them. Elena wondered when exactly her life had catapulted itself into a spy move. 'Just my luck to get one without the dangerously attractive leading man,' she thought.

Pilot: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Elena jolted awake with her alarm, her hand reaching out to slap it off even as she sat up. She blinked hard, puzzled by the light from the overhead lamp. As she struggled out of the covers, memory began to catch up with her and she remembered leaving the lights on in lieu of a nightlight to repel the military and other boogymen in the night.

She shivered, not entirely from the cold and hoped her grandfather checked his messages early today. Elena tugged open her underwear drawer and reached in to grab a clean pair for the day. Her hand struck the bottom of the drawer. She leaned over looking in and blinking with surprise. Why was her underwear drawer empty? Her mind flashed on Smith and McMillan. Why would the military take her underwear? Visions of camouflaged pantie raids began to dance in her head. Before they could begin an organized tango, her morning-fuzzed brain began to wake up. The military had not stolen her underwear. They had just derailed her Sunday afternoon laundry plans.

Elena stretched her hand to the back of the drawer and came up with one overlooked set of underwear. She whooped in triumph until she pulled it out of the drawer. It was a nice lacy set of date underwear. The kind that was very pretty and meant to be admired but not comfortably worn. She sighed.

“This does not bode well,” she said to the empty room as she shut the dresser drawer and walked over to her closet. Elena tugged the closet door open, expecting the pickings to be slim. Most of the hangars were empty but towards the back of the closet she found a white cable knit sweater and grey woolen pants that were a little too thick for early fall. Resigned to a day of discomfort she dressed, pulling her hair up into a loose knot at the back of her head. Elena made her way to the kitchen and stared stupidly at the empty coffeepot, wondering why the automatic brew cycle had not kicked in. She ground her teeth.

“Of course not,” she thought. “They stole my coffee. Maybe I could go back to bed and try again tomorrow.” Images of her employees danced in her head. TJ with his intense need to have everything lined up in neat regimented rows, Max with his desire for artistic chaos and Emily, six months pregnant and watching the silent, polite and inevitable battle that would ensue between them with a giggle from behind the register. Elena rubbed her eyes.

They were a good crew, each contributing in their own way but without a supervisor her customers would probably run screaming from the store. It wasn’t that they were inept. Just very different from each other and very strong willed. They needed a referee to function effectively. For the good of all she would have to see this day through.

Elena retrieved her shoes and sat on the couch while she put them on. She looked around her while she tied the laces. A casual observer would not be able to tell that her living room had been the center of upheaval the day before. Or at least that’s what she told herself as she left for work. Her stomach dropped down to her toes. What would happen when her grandfather got her message? Would Ian have reached the Families first? Elena walked down the three flights of stairs to the street entrance and opened the door to the outside world.

She looked around to see if anyone was watching. Her eyes scanned the street and a couple of people gave her odd looks as they passed. Elena rolled her eyes at her own behavior, realizing she was acting crazy. Even if Ian had reached the Families first she would be held accountable to a tribunal. She wouldn’t be gunned down in the streets.

Probably.

She took a deep breath to steady herself and drew in the scent of fresh coffee. Her head automatically turned towards the smell, a smile tilting the corners of her mouth. Her eyes lit on the coffee house she had visited the day before. Her smile fell and she turned grumpily from it, purposefully walking away from the coffee shop and towards her store. Maybe she could send Max later.

The sight of her shop brightened her considerably as it always did. A classy, old-fashioned storefront done in rich browns, gleaming glass and artfully faded gold lettering. As she let herself into the store her fingertips traced the lettering. Calabrese Imports. She smiled and her world started to steady. Elena tucked her purse behind the counter and began the process of opening the store for the day. Max and TJ soon joined her with Emily shuffling in a few minutes later.

“Sorry,” she called, stowing her bag beside Elena’s. “Got halfway to the elevator and had to pee again.” She confided in Elena.

“Not a problem,” Elena said quickly, cutting off all talk of bodily changes before Max and TJ headed straight to the back. “We’ve got a lot going on today. New merchandise just came in and we’ll need to start switching out the fall displays for the holiday ones. We’ve got two scheduled corporate clients coming in today. One at 10 and the other at 2. Max would you mind doing a coffee run? It’s going to be a busy day and I think we could all use a bit of a wake me up. My treat of course.”

“Decaf for me but with plenty of cream and sugar,” Emily said quickly. Elena smiled, knowing the coffee would send Emily running to and from the bathroom for the rest of the morning.

It was a good day, customers coming so thick and heavy Elena had no time to even think of anything existing beyond the confines of her own four walls. More mundane considerations shoved everything else to the side. The holiday shopping season had barely begun and they were already swamped. Personal shoppers were drawn to the store in droves and everyone in the city seemed taken with the notion of something new for their own homes before the expected holiday company arrived.

Elena closed up the shop and walked the short distance to her apartment. They would need more help, that was a given. At least one, possibly two more people, one for heavy lifting in the back and another to help Emily at the register. Elena noted the out of order sign on the elevator with little surprise and began to climb the stairs. It was rare that the elevator worked for any length of time. She climbed the stairs slowly while her mind ran through lists of possible holiday helpers. As she crested the stairs and reached the plateau of her landing she blinked in surprise and stopped cold, one hand still reaching for her house keys.

“I thought you’d be home a bit earlier than this,” the rangy man standing beside her door said. He had a half smile on his face and despite the tailored pants and shirt he still managed to look windblown and casual. His hair, which had been salt and pepper for most of her life had now gone completely gray but was still lush and thick. She felt a smile tug to her lips.

“Hello Grandfather.”

Pilot: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Elena went up to her apartment, her brain racing as she put things together. She unlocked her apartment door and was relieved to see it looking exactly as it had when she left. The day, however, was worn thin. She had left in the morning but now late afternoon rays were slanting through her windows in a warm buttery yellow that belied the cool shadows creeping around the edges.


Elena locked the door behind her and leaned on it for a while. She couldn't tell if anyone had been in her apartment. 'How did someone tell?' She thought to herself, it wasn't like she could dust the entire place for fingerprints. There was one thing she could know for certain that the military would have taken had they found it. Elena crossed the living room and flipped up the edge of her rug.


When she moved in she devised a secret cache for herself, just in case. The boards did not appear to be moved They appeared to be nailed down just as before. Elena went to the kitchen and pulled her hammer out from under the sink. When she moved in she has pried out most of the living room floorboards so they all looked like they had been re-done at the same time. She then laid her secrets between the joists and nailed the floorboards back in place. In the five years since she had never taken them back up.


Elena pried up the boards nearest the couch and reached into the dark hole, retrieving the leather satchel she stashed there. She sighed with relief when she saw the papers peeking through just as she had left them. She placed the board over the hole and emptied the satchel's contents on the floor. She sat Indian style on the rug behind her and counted. It was all there. She sighed with relief. Now she had to figure out what to do. Slowly she placed the papers and maps back in the satchel. As she picked up the last map she realized it was very similar to the one McMillan had shown her earlier. It had been coated with a sealant to make it waterproof and had creases and markings from heavy use where his was a fresh, crisp sheet but it covered the same section of water. Elena unfolded it and put her finger down where McMillan said the USS Navigator had disappeared. With her other hand she placed a finger where she knew the Marta Channel entry to be. On a map it didn't look that far. In reality, it was a lot of open water.


"And it makes no sense," she said aloud to the empty room. "Marta is variable, no one uses it this time of year." Like many of the channels the Marta varied it's depth from season to season. Marta's peak season would be between February and late May. By mid June few captains would risk their hulls and by August 25th, when McMillan stated the USS Navigator had been lost it would be a noteworthy feat to get an unmanned life raft through without scrapping bottom.


"And the USS Navigator sounds big," she said. "Much bigger than a life raft." Actually anything with a 26-man crew was substantially larger than anything she had ever piloted. Most ships were built along the lines of either an old fashioned cutter or a schooner, depending on the captain's taste, and crewed by 3-5, including the pilot. Elena shook her head and refolded the map, tucking it back into the satchel with the others. She placed the satchel back between the joists and nailed the boards back down. She adjusted the throw rug to make the floor look undisturbed and sat on the couch, her mind twirling with a thousand thoughts. She closed her eyes and rubbed them with the heels of her hands until red spots danced inside her eyelids.


"Focus," she said dropping her hands into her lap and opening her eyes. The specifics of the channel were not important at the moment. The images of the 26 crew members floated through her mind and she sighed. "No," she said. "I can't help them." She had stopped riding the channels and what happened there was no longer her concern. Her primary concern at this time had to be self-preservation.


"Ian," she said. Such a short name, it sounded like i belonged on a soap opera and not involved in this well organized life she had crafted. Ian had seen her with the military. It didn't matter whether he was there because the Families sent him or if he was a traitor to the Guild. He had seen her as she had seen him. Her eyes drifted towards her cell phone sitting next to the couch. She had placed it there to charge the night before and had not grabbed it for a quick run to the coffee shop.


Elena reached over and picked it up, unplugging it from the charger. If she called now she could tell her side of the story, perhaps even warn the Guild of military interest if they did not already know. If they found out on their own that she was somehow meeting with the military things would not be pretty. She dialed her grandfather's phone number from memory, realizing as she pressed the little buttons that this situation was not going to go away on its own. The last words her grandfather had spoken to her as she packed to leave echoed through her brain as the phone began to ring. 'You can walk away from the life, we will not stop you. But you can not walk away from the blood that flows in your veins. Sooner or later it will call you back home.'


The call rolled straight to his answering machine. 'Of curse,' she thought as his voice rumbled out inviting her to leave a message and a call back number. 'It's Sunday.' The one day of the week where her work-a-holic grandfather refused to do business. She stifled a short burst of panic laughter. On Sundays he turned the sound all the way down on his machine so he could not even hear the message as it recorded. Monday morning he listened to them all and called everyone back. His voice rolled to a halt and the electronic beep sounded.


"Grandfather, it's Elena. I... um had a really ... odd day today with some men from the military base here asking me about some of their lost captains, or pilots, maybe it was lieutenants or something. They seemed to think I knew something about it for some reason. I saw an while I was there. Remember Ian Jenson from school? Maybe he told them something about me. You remember how crazy his sense of humor is, all those practical jokes he used to pull when we were kids. Anyway I was just calling because I wanted to hear your voice and see if you were doing well." Elena paused and decided there was nothing else she could say on a recording that could be heard by anyone pressing play or that the military might not add to if they overheard. "Okay well I'm sorry I missed you," she concluded.


Elena hit the end button on her phone and stood staring as the screen blinked to dark. She oddly enough found the words true. She missed her grandfather. The thought of dealing with the military terrified her. Whenever she was scared, her grandfather made the bad things go away. Voice tap and eaves droppers or not she found herself wishing he had been answering his phone.

Pilot: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Elena opened her eyes and her first thought was that her headache was gone. Her mind felt filled with cotton and she struggled to find her last memory. Coffee spilling down the cracks in a sidewalk. A sharp jab into her neck…Her thoughts formed a pattern and she bolted upright. She was slumped in a large cushy chair on wheels. As panic drove her to her feet the chair rolled away and softly thumped against the wall.

Her gaze jerked around the room, pulling in images of the decor the way her mind had struggled to fit the memories together. She was in a conference room. It wasn’t opulent but it was large, comfortable and well appointed. Understated, was the word that flew through her mind as her eyes danced across the comfortable office chairs neatly arranged around the table.

There were two large mirrors at either end of the room. A designer would have said they created the illusion of space. To Elena’s mind they seemed like the mirrors one would find in a police station merely decorated with heavy frames to fool the eye, although that was probably her innate paranoia speaking. There was one door. Elena rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes. Even with the adrenaline flowing she was feeling sluggish, slow like her brain was wrapped tight in a wool blanket. Her purse and coffee were nowhere to be seen.

Elena leaned on the glossy surface of the table and took a few deep breaths. ‘Everything in the purse is replaceable,’ she thought to herself. ‘I am not.’ The thought steadied her. She pushed away from the table and stood straight. Her first few steps were a bit creaky but she got herself moving towards the door. She edged around the table using the backs of the chairs for support when her vision seemed to fuzz.

“This is what happens when I don’t get my coffee,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll have to get another cup.” She tried to encourage herself with the words as she moved. “Different coffee shop though.” She reached the side of the table. From here to the door she would have no more support. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Not so bad,” she complemented herself. She took another step, feeling steadier. Each step pushed the fuzz back and made her feel more normal. The wool around her brain was beginning to fray at the edges and the sharp bite of cold reality was beginning to sting. Panic started to bubble through her system helping to bring her into sharper focus. Someone had grabbed her off the street and brought her here.

‘Why?’ she thought to herself. ‘What was happening?’ She reached for the doorknob, praying the door was unlocked. Her hand was a few inches from the knob when she saw it turn. She stared stupidly as the door opened and a man stepped into the room. She ducked into a defensive crouch really wishing she had learned some sort of fighting style. Somehow her kick him in the crotch and run away method seemed inadequate to the situation. He stared at her in puzzlement as he entered the room.

“Good Morning Ma’am,” he said. Elena noticed he was carrying a tray and that he had the same haircut she associated with the military. Short on top and almost nonexistent on the sides. The rest of his features were rather non-descript. He wore a camouflaged suit with the pants and jacket and the combat boots she also associated with the military. The tray contained several ceramic coffee mugs and a carafe of what smelled like coffee. Packets of instant creamer and sugar were heaped in one corner. Lack of caffeine or not, there was no way she was taking a cup of this brew.

“Morning,” she replied. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say good.” He smiled and she put is age as early 20s at best.

“If you’ll just take a seat. The others will be along shortly. Your meeting will start then.”

“Meeting?”

“Yes didn’t you come here for the meeting?” Uncertainty flickered across his face. Behind him an older man filled the open door.

“Of course she’s here for the meeting.” The younger man looked stung and quickly walked past Elena to place the tray on the table. He stepped around the older man, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

“Please sit down Ms. Calabrese.” Elena stared at him. He had hard lines around his mouth and eyes and the look he gave her made her feel untidy. She started to run a hand through her hair, figuring it was probably a mess but stopped her hand before it could move more than an inch from her side. If she looked unkempt it was his fault anyway. She clenched her teeth, her temper burning away the last of the mental fog. They had no right to bring her here.

“Is this routinely the way you get people to your meetings?” She said, a snap of temper edging into her voice. She decided anger would serve her better than fear. This man also had a military haircut. Elena almost expected him to be in camouflaged clothing but he wore a black t-shirt and a pair of loose black pants with more pockets than seemed rational. He was wearing combat boots to match the haircut.

“Not usually but you are a special case. Please have a seat.”

“And if I don’t want to?” Elena asked, knowing she sounded like a petulant child but unable to help herself. The man crossed to the table, poured himself a cup of coffee, and added one packet of creamer and two of sugar.

“You can of course remain standing if you wish. We only want to talk with you. Present a proposition of sorts. A business proposition. Then you will of course be able to leave.” A tight knot in Elena’s throat loosened. She would be able to leave.

Elena stepped back to the table and pulled out the chair at the head of the table.

“A business proposition,” she repeated.

“Yes,” he confirmed settling himself in a chair.

“You wanted to suggest a business proposition to me so you kidnapped me?”

“Ms. Calabrese, this is hardly kidnapping.” Elena’s eyebrows shot up.

“The hell it’s not!”

“Please calm down, Ms. Calabrese.” Elena took a couple of deep breaths. The sooner she found out what he wanted the sooner she could leave.

“Why didn’t you just come to my office if it is business?”

“We did not want to risk the possibility of being overheard. All of this is highly confidential.”

“Highly confidential.” She repeated, wondering what highly confidential thing the military could want her for.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to come to your office?”

“Well, Ms. Calabrese, your kind doesn’t exactly have a history of cooperation with the military. If we had contacted you there were a number of things you could have done other than come here. None of them would have suited our purpose.” He answered, leaning back in his chair. Elena felt a tingling of warning start in the back of her mind, like distant alarm bells. She swallowed hard around the thought that was beginning to form. There was only one reason they could have grabbed her and these were dangerous waters.

“My kind?” she asked, keeping her suspicions from her voice.

“Yes.”

“And what kind would I be?’

“Let’s see, what did he call you…Ah yes I remember, the pilots.” In Elena’s mind the bells grew louder and she could feel her stomach begin to knot into big greasy twists. The thought solidified into reality. There really was nothing like swimming with sharks to keep your mind sharp.

“Pilots?” She asked, trying to keep her voice calm. “Like in planes?” She tilted the end of the word up in puzzlement.

“No Ms. Calabrese,” he said with a smile, “You know the kind of pilots we mean.” His words came out with a certainty that sped up her pulse.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” she said.

“There is no need to play dumb. We know all about you.”

“I’m afraid you have the wrong person.

“I don’t believe we do. He said he took a long drink from his mug and Elena desperately wished for a long drink of water. She willed her face to calm.

“Who do you think I am?” she asked.

“We think you are Elena Bastianne Calabrese, a pilot of the Calabrese family. The pilots as you know have the ability to navigate the world gates.” The man sat back in his seat and silently sipped his coffee as he studied Elena’s reaction. She kept her expression calm with a forced effort but felt the blood drain out of her face.

This man was speaking of the channels. She had no idea where he had gotten the term world gates although the term did tug at the back of her mind. She was pretty sure she had heard it before but not where. Right now she couldn’t spare the brainpower to search for it. Whatever he called them, he was talking about the channels. She had opted out of that world more than five years earlier and had not looked back. But even for one who stopped riding the channels there was punishment for revealing family secrets. Talking to the military of any nation about the channels was forbidden. In the Law of the Families, forbidden was always enforced, usually painfully.

“I’m afraid I do not know what you are talking about.” Elena stated. It was a statement she decided she could not afford to deviate from. Punishment for an exile was likely to be even harsher than normal.

“Ms. Calabrese, there is no need to keep up the pretense. We are well aware of the world gates. We know where they are, where they lead and how to access them.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said. Her voice was rough and came out as less strong than she would have liked. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I have never heard the term world gates and I am not a licensed pilot. I know nothing about planes.”

“Ships, Ms. Calabrese, ships, as you well know. The pilots, well, pilot ships across the world gates. Or they did anyway. Now we have a more advanced mechanism. You see the pilots, their guild and their secrecy have become obsolete. We have ships that can take us through the world gates with out the special skills of a pilot.” Butterflies swirled in Elena’s brain. A question began to form and she wondered if she could ask it without stating that she knew about the pilots and the channels.

“I am a bit confused sir,” She began, weighing each word before it left her lips. In here words had meaning. “I do not know what these world gates are but you seem to be able to deal with them just fine. And I wish you luck with whatever that is. But if you can deal with them better than these pilots then why would you need to kidnap someone you thought was a pilot? Or are you just telling me this so that I can be certain that I don’t need to keep a secret that is apparently not a secret?” Elena forced a puzzled expression to her face.

“Ah, well that is the business proposition we have asked you to consider. Obviously the world gates are a military concern. Therefore since the pilots are already working with them we thought you might like to work with them and us.” He gestured towards Elena with his cup. “You are about to be obsolete. This would be some way you could be still involved with the world gates. Sort of keep your hand in.” Inside Elena snorted. Her stomach began to settle. His contempt was oddly reassuring.

“If this group is about to be obsolete then why would you want them to work with you?” The man took a deep drink from his mug, finishing his coffee. He reached forward and poured himself another mug. This time he didn’t bother with the sugar or creamer.

“Oh we really don’t,” he said. We just thought it would be good for you to remain in contact and maybe give the project a sense of history. Maybe you could teach the history of the thing or something since your skills are no longer needed.”

“I see,” Elena said. “So you are being gracious to an out-moded group. That is very generous of you.” The words fell heavily from her lips, weighted with meaning and import. Elena could almost feel them hit the table between them. “So you want these pilots to teach history?”

“More or less,” he replied.

“Well, I wish you the luck with that. I’m afraid you are mistaken about my being a pilot and I really don’t have any inclination to be a history teacher. So I guess I would have to decline the position.” She let the silence stretch while she counted to five. “May I leave now?” The door opened and Elena started as the man in front of her shot to attention nearly spilling coffee down his shirt in his haste. His lazy manner evaporated.

“That will be enough. Be seated.” The man sat back down. Elena turned her attention to the newcomer. I am Macmillan and that is Smith.” He gestured to the seated man before walking around the table and seating himself. He thumped a large file on the table. “I think we can cut through some of the bullshit here.” He opened the folder.

“We have ships that can go into the world gates. It is a new project. We have one that is completely operational and one that will be online in three months. We have recently run into a snag. We believe that while rather limited and out dated, your prior experience may prove helpful in this instance. Our fully operational vessel, The USS Navigator went through the world gate at precisely this location.” Macmillan unfolded a map and shoved it towards Elena. It slid across the slick wood and she stopped it from sliding off the edge out of reaction. She looked down at the map in her hand and frowned at the location marked.

“How long has it been missing?” She asked.

“It went missing on August 25th of this year at approximately 1400 hours.” Mentally Elena translated the time and added that data to her mental files, several things were not making sense but to ask would clearly state that she knew what was going on, a statement she was not inclined to make.

“I’m very sorry sir but I am afraid you have the wrong person. I have no idea what world gates are or what you expect them to do or what you expect me to do about them.”

“26 people were aboard the Navigator, Ms. Calabrese. Our second ship will not be operational for another three months. Your involvement could save their lives.” Macmillan pulled out a sheaf of pictures, laying them out on the table in front of Elena. Bright young people in uniform stared out at her. Inwardly, she sighed. She looked at the pictures, committing the smiling faces to memory. Her mind put the facts together as only a well-trained pilot could do and she knew that not one of those people were still alive.

“They have families who miss them who want them home. You can help get them home.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t help you.” Smith looked as though he wanted to say something but Macmillan silenced him with a look.

“Will you at least think about it and give us your answer in a few days?”

“I can give you the answer in a few days if you’d like but nothing I can do could help those people. I’m sorry. “ Macmillan’s eyes narrowed and for a moment he studied her. His eyes made her think of one of her high school math teachers. Everyone believed he could stare at you and tell if you had ever even thought of cheating. Elena reminded herself she was no longer a student. She met his gaze.

“I only ask that you think about it. We will contact you in a few days.” He stood and Smith leapt from his seat. “Smith will return you to your home.” Macmillan held out his hand and Elena stood holding hers out for him to shake. “We will contact you in a few days when you have had time to think. Oh and Ms. Calabrese, one of the reasons that you were brought here was to illustrated a point. We can find you whenever we want.” Macmillan walked around to the desk, opened the door and let himself out with out a backward glance. Elena felt goose bumps rise on her arms from his words.

“If you will come with me,” Smith said stiffly. Elena followed him out the door. The young man who had brought the coffee was waiting outside the door, her purse in his hand. He passed it to her as she walked out.

“Thank you,’ she said automatically. He smiled and turned away. She didn’t ask him about her coffee beans. Smith escorted her through the hallways and out the main door. Elena found herself blinking in the sunlight, the relief at being allowed to be free of the building washed over her. She was not being held. She looked around amazed at how beautiful the world was. As she turned her eye caught the profile of someone familiar. She blinked hard, the oddity of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar environment momentarily jarring her. She blinked again as if clearing her vision.

“Ian?” she said her voice tilting up to make the name a question. His head turned in her direction at the sound of his name and his eyes went wide when he saw her standing there. Smith cursed under his breath and stepped between her and Ian.

“This way ma’am.” He pointed in the opposite direction. Elena felt her jaw clench. She knew who she had seen. She didn’t really need to see him again, and at the moment talking to him was probably not the smartest of ideas. But at least she knew how the military had come by their information. She allowed Smith to lead her from the base and into a car. He was visibly relieved and she was surprised he couldn’t hear her teeth grinding. More was becoming clear every second she thought about it. Elena managed to keep herself calm until Smith dropped her off in front of her apartment building. She stepped out of the car closing the door without looking back. If Smith minded he didn’t show it. He simply sat there and watched Elena enter the building before driving away.