Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (17 page)

"Slow
down...
he's fine, he's with a crew member and we'll get him in the morning,
it's too late now, so let's just go to bed."

Steele
nodded, he felt better now, like a great weight had been
lifted
from him. But something she said triggered a thought. "Um, when
you
said
let's
go to bed, did you mean; let us go to
our
beds,
plural
,
or, let us go to
a
bed,
singular
?"

Raulya
stopped in mid-stride and turned to him, backing him up
against
the padded corridor wall. "Do you mean to tell me..." she
began seductively, "after all I've done for you, you'd begrudge
me some show of gratitude?!"

"I
guess a handshake wouldn't do it?"

"I
don't think so..." she smirked.
At
least, Jack hoped it was a smirk. "Well, what have you got in
mind?"

She
pressed herself against him, pinning him to the wall and
covered
his mouth with hers. She kissed him long and hard, grinding her body
against his. Finally she released him.

"Whaa..."
he blinked hard and inhaled deeply.

"So?!"
She stood with her hands on her hips.

"Well
I, you, that is, we, I mean I..."

She
smiled crookedly, "You mean to tell me, you haven't even
thought
about
it?!"

"Well
yeah, I mean no, not exactly, but I..."

She
pinned him again, this time even longer. While she licked his
lips,
she asked him again, breathing gently on his face,
"Sssooo?"

He
nodded, his brain felt like jello.

"Good.
I knew you'd see it my way." Taking him by the hand, she
turned
sharply and headed for her quarters. Jack wondered if he was the
entertainment... or the main course.

■ ■ ■

Raulya
stood in the bathroom, facing the mirror, "C'mon and take
your
shower, we don't want to be late to brunch." Steele opened his
eyes in the darkened room and, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs
with a sweet, heady perfume, forcing recollections into his foggy
mind. He stretched achy arms and legs, casually wondering what was
in the incense Raulya burned or the perfume she wore. It seemed to
have a very strange physiological
effect
on him. Hell,
she
had quite an effect on him. He thought that
erotic
dance she performed for him last night would drive him insane. But
no, she had other plans, she wanted to give him a heart attack
through sexual exertion. He was glad he stayed fit.

Jack
sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes,
"Sure,
I'll be there in a sec'," he yawned. He looked up and eyed her
profile, a silhouette in the light of the bathroom. Christ, what a
figure, he thought. He stood and stretched, watching the silhouette
primp and apply makeup. "Hmph, women and make-up. Good to see
there are some constants," he muttered to himself.

"Did
you say something, my sweet?"

Jack
cleared his throat and made a mental note about her exceptional
hearing,
"Ahem, um no, just talking to myself," he said, as he
padded past her to the shower.

Smiling,
Raulya leaned back as he passed and pinched his bare butt,
"Just
don't do it in public or you may find yourself in a rubber room
somewhere..."

Or
another night or two like last night might do it
,
thought Jack.

Steele
stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed and sharply
awake.
Raulya called him into the other room as he toweled his hair. "I
had some clean clothes sent up from the commissary for you, I hope
you'll like them... boots too."

"What's
wrong with my boots?"

"Oh,
nothing, it's just that these are meant for the outfit."

Jack
held up the pants, "These will never fit, they're much too
small."

"They
stretch, try them on before you decide."

Jack
sat on the bed and dressed. The pants were dark blue, a heavy
material
like denim, but they stretched remarkably and fit to every curve of
his muscular legs. The boots were black leather and highly polished.
They snugged over his pant legs and ended just below his knees. The
shirt was a blue-gray, double-breasted button down, with embossed
brass buttons. The material was weighty like a dense cotton, but
much smoother, almost like satin. It reminded Jack of the shirts
worn by Union Cavalry soldiers in the late 1800s. He remembered John
Wayne wearing shirts like this.

Looking
in the mirror, Jack unbuttoned three buttons on one side
and
let the flap fold down, smoothing it with his hand. "Hmmm...
something's missing... ah!" He went to the bedside and picked
up the 1911 and holster, belted it on and returned to the mirror.
Strapping the holster to his leg he stood and scrutinized himself in
the mirror. The black belt crossed his waist at an angle, holding
the holster perfectly at hand height for his right hand. He turned
to Raulya and smiled, "I think you've found me a totally new
look."

"Then
you like it?! Oh, I'm so glad I think you look absolutely
dashing!
I got the idea from the Ketarian Royal Air Force, their uniform is
similar, only theirs is red with gold braid. Frankly, I thought blue
and gray would suit you better."

"Good
choice!" he snorted, “I'm not a red kinda guy.”

"Anyway,"
she said, "I thought a pilot should look like a pilot.
Pilots
are greatly respected, no matter where they're from."

"Well,
a pilot, yes, but I'm a little outta' my element, not much to
fly
out here..."

"You'd
be surprised," she interrupted, stepping forward. Raulya
pinned
his flight wings neatly on his new tunic, kissing him on the lips.
"There, perfect! Now, let's go we're late!"

PRINCESS
HEDONIST: TOROMEDE SYSTEM

The
air car hissed to a stop, just short of entering the Ecosphere.
Jack
and Raulya stepped out and onto the second level platform. The car
sped away and disappeared through the trees and foliage rising from
the floor of the forest, one level below. Hand in hand, Jack and
Raulya strolled down the short carpeted ramp from the platform to
the famous Ecosphere Lounge.

"Well,
if it isn't the lost expedition..." Of course, Maria would
be
the first to open her mouth, thought Jack. He didn't dignify it with
a reply. Instead, he greeted everyone at the table, except her, and
shook the Captain's hand.

"You
look well this morning, Mr. Steele..."

"Thank
you Captain. Please, call me Jack if you like."

"Fine,
then I must insist we dispense with all these formalities,
you
must call me Gant, it is short for Gantarro. Now, please, sit, eat,
the food here is wonderful."

The
table was at the edge of the balcony, overlooking the floor of
the
Ecosphere. Below them sprawled a small grassy meadow surrounded by
trees and dense foliage. Obvious footpaths left the meadow and
disappeared into the forest. The sound of a small waterfall could be
heard, and the voices of birds of all types abounded. "Quite a
sanctuary, is it not?"

Jack
swiveled in his seat to face Gant, "Yes, it's beautiful, but
how
does it survive without sunlight?"

"Mmmm..."
Gant paused between bites, "synthetic sunlight, it's
quite
easy to duplicate." Jack nodded, he knew of grow lights, they
were common on Earth, but he never imagined it could be accomplished
on this magnitude. "Oh, by the way..." Gant continued,
"your friend Fritz is down there, somewhere. Playing hide and
seek with one of my crew members I suspect. They'll be up when they
get a whiff of all this food."

Jack
surveyed the various foods on the table and despite their
unfamiliar
appearance, smelled delicious. His grumbling stomach reminded him to
do more than just look and smell.
Conversations
swirled around the table as they ate, and it was
quickly
noticed that although the colors varied somewhat, Jack, Brian, Paul
and Mike Warren all had the same tailor. It was unanimously decided
that not only did they look outstanding, but the clothes were
extremely comfortable as well.

"It
looks like we've got some kinda' squadron image developing
here..."
said Mike.

"Some
squadron..." snorted Pappy. "Four pilots and nothing even
remotely
familiar to fly..."

"Oh,
I wouldn't say that," interrupted Gant, "I've been
thinking,
this
ship has three shuttles... and only one shuttle pilot. If you would
be interested, the simulator could teach you how to fly shuttles,
and it's not really all that different from your kind of flying...
besides, it would compensate for your food and quarters."

"You
mean like a job?" queried Brian.

"You
could call it that," said Gantarro, smiling, "but unless
we're
at a scheduled planet tour-stop, there isn't much to do besides
relax and enjoy our hospitality until we hit port. Pretty easy
actually."

"Well,
we weren't really planning on staying," commented Jack. "We
appreciate
the offer and at any other time, believe me, I'd take you up on
it..." he glanced at Maria and back at Gant, "but we have
unfinished business at home. So if you'd just drop us off..."

"Where?"
Asked Gant.

"Where
we came from, of course," answered Jack.

Gant
shook his head, "Impossible."

"What...?
Why?"

"Because
that was almost a week ago, Jack. We're almost two systems
away
from Earth already. To return, you would delay our cruise schedule
two more weeks, and we're behind as it is..."

"But
we just got here yesterday!" protested Jack.

Gant
shook his head again. "Five days ago. We didn't know you were
here
till yesterday when we noticed an overage on our weight. Our
guidance system for our shuttles must have drawn in your aircraft
before we departed."

"You
mean we slept for four days?" asked Paul.

"It
appears so," answered Gant.

Jack
cleared his throat. "Just how long will it be, before we can
return
home then?"

Gant
rubbed his chin, calculating the equivalent earth time. "Well,
considering
the cruise line doesn't always run voyages along duplicate routes...
and including our return time... hmmm, anywhere from about twelve
months to maybe, oh, say four years."