Pilot: Chapter 13

Sorry for the dalay folks. Life interupted.

Chapter 13

Elena stood in the doorway of her assigned suite and blinked. For a moment she felt as though she had stepped into a 1950s movie set. Looking around she half expected Marilyn Monroe or Jane Russell to walk by. She shut the door behind her and began taking stock. Everything was polished to a high gloss. To the right of the doorway was a wet bar inset into the wall. She opened the cabinet above and found a wide assortment of liquors. They had been poured from their store bought containers into crystal decanters of varying in shapes and all had little silver nameplates proclaiming their contents. The decanters themselves were fitted into cushioned forms to provide stability and to keep the bottles from clinking together. Elena closed the cabinet.

In the corner sat a mahogany desk. It had a leather edged blotter, with matching pen holder. Stationary emblazoned with a raised golden L sat atop the blotter. Elena pulled a pen from the holder and tugged off the cap. As she suspected the pen was a fountain pen rather than a ball point. She replaced the cap and returned it to its holder.

“Apparently they aren’t really worried about the guests stealing the portable items.” She said picking up a large silver lighter. “More like a paperweight,” she mused flicking the lighter on. “Looks like something Humphrey Bogart would use.” She replaced it on the desk. Elena didn’t bother to open the cigarette case beside it but the small canister behind it interested her. It was the size and shape of a cotton swab holder. It was silver, like the rest of the smoking set and had a little knob on the top of its lid. She pulled the knob and the lid rose. It had a rod attached to the center of it and leading to a fitted base. When it slid up, matches fanned out around the center rod.

“Interesting,” she said closing the match case. She vaguely recalled seeing something like it in The Maltese Falcon. “I think that one was for cigarettes though. I wonder why you would have matches and a lighter?” She flipped open the box placed at the corner of the desk and found it full of cigars. Dimly she recalled her grandfather saying something about always lighting cigars with matches. “Something about the taste,” She muttered. Elena shrugged, closed the cigar box and moved away from the desk.

She opened the door next to the desk and found it to be a closet. Padded satin covered hangers were placed on the bar and a rack for her luggage was placed below. The few clothes she had brought for this trip were hung up on the hangars and her empty bag was on the rack. It looked rather deflated. Elena knew they meant nothing personal by unpacking her bag and were in fact helping her keep her things from wrinkling rather than rummaging but it still felt like an invasion of privacy.

“Next time I’ll have to remember to put anything personal in my purse,” she said closing the closet door. She took two steps towards the bathroom door and stopped herself. “Next time,” she repeated. Elena rolled her eyes at the thought, hoping there really wouldn’t be a next time. She pushed the bathroom door open and found her toiletry bag placed on the built in vanity. The modern waterproof travel bag looked out of place next to the silver containers filled with cotton swabs and cotton balls and cut glass perfume bottles. The bathtub was nearly big enough to swim in and the toilet tucked discreetly behind a half wall. A silver rack piled high with fluffy towels sat next to the bathtub, as did a small rack containing bottles of bath salts, oils and bubble baths.

Elena decided she would try out one of them in a long soak before bed. She picked up each bottle and pried the cap off to test the scent. She decided on some pink crystals that smelled of rose. Elena turned on the tap and tossed a handful of the bath salts under the pounding water. She returned to the bedroom while the tub filled. The only item not investigated was the bed. She fervently hoped it too was not a hold over from the 1950s. She sat down on the bed and sank into softness. Apparently the Lorenzo had followed the trends of other more commercial cruise lines and gotten top of the line bedding. Elena glanced over at the two items on the bed with her. The first was a leather bound notebook with a hot pink post-it note attached. She reached over and pulled the notebook towards her. The post it note was short and to the point.

“For recording information about your dreams,” she read aloud. There was no signature. “Apparently they aren’t wasting any time.” She set the notebook down on the night stand and pulled the second parcel over to her. It was wrapped in brown paper and ties with a string. She shook her head wondering what store other than a meat counter actually wrapped up parcels like that any more. “And with the meat they use stickers instead of string.” She untied the string and opened the paper. Inside the brown paper was lavender tissue paper that smelled of lavender. She folded it back and found she was holding the underwear she had asked Regina to secure. It was a matched set festooned with black lace and pink accents running through it.

“At least the lace is soft and not scratchy,” she commented. “She walked over to the closet, opened the door and set the underwear on top of her empty satchel. “And at least I brought dark clothes for tomorrow so the bra won’t show through the cloth.” She closed the closet door and decided a long soak in the bathtub was in order.

By the time she crawled out of the bathtub she felt boneless and sleepy. The exhaustion of the last few days swamped her and she wearily pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. Elena snuggled down into the softness and closed her eyes, unsure if she wanted to dream or not. Within moments she was asleep.

Elena awoke from her dreams, with her head pounding. She pushed her hands to the side of her head as if trying to keep her brains from exploding out of her ears.

“I wonder how long I have to pay attention before the pain clears?” She muttered. The dreams as usual were a jumble of flashing images. Already they were slipping away. Remembering her promise, and the promise of possible pain relief she slid out of bed and picked up the provided notebook. She walked over to the desk, sat down and picked up a pen. Elena stared at the notebook and ran her fingers over the leather of the cover. Somehow the book looked official. She almost wished the council had given her a simple spiral bound notebook to jot down her thoughts.

“They wouldn’t seem as real,” she thought. Elena opened the cover and began to jot down her thoughts. It didn’t take long as the images were just random snapshot of places she had never seen jumbled together. ‘It is as if I were looking at someone’s holiday photographs through a cheese cloth,’ she wrote. “I had the impression that all I had to do was pull the cloth aside and I could see down the pathway the same as I could with a regular channel.’ Elena looked at her words and thought about scratching them out. They seemed so silly. After all that isn’t the way the channels worked. A pilot didn’t just create channels; they piloted the existing ones.

The paragraph she placed in the notebook was brief and somewhat disappointing. She shrugged off the disappointment. She knew better than to thing all of life’s great mysteries would be solved in one sitting. Elena closed the book and decided to see if any coffee was available to dull the pain in her head. She dressed in the new under garments and the clothes she had brought with her. She packed the rest of her belongings and hefted the bag to her shoulder. Elena figured they would soon be leaving and she could just as easily tuck the bag under the table during breakfast.

“Not that I actually feel like eating,” she muttered to herself. Along with the usual headache the morning had re-awakened all her nervousness about the upcoming military confrontation. Elena made her way to the dining area. The coffee area was set up but no one had yet arrived. She poured herself a cup and settled in to one of the chairs. The caffeine worked its magic and her headache began to slowly ebb. By the time she was halfway though her second cup it was almost completely gone.

“You might want to get a to go cup for that,” Peter said walking into the room and gesturing towards her. “The car is ready and we need to be on our way” The muscles in Elena’s stomach knotted.

‘Great she thought, not only do I have to deal with the military, I have to spend the entire day alone with Peter and his bodyguard.’ She set the cup down on the table. ‘This should be interesting.’ She picked up her bag and followed him out the door.