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.”