Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (71 page)

"Sure,"
said Myomerr waving to the empty copilot's station, "have a
seat."

"Am
I a prisoner?" he asked as he sat down. "They took my
sidearm."

"Depends
on how you look at it..." she realized he was staring at
her
and stared back. He was handsome, to the extreme, she thought. Ice
blue eyes, shiny white-blonde hair, chiseled features... and
smelling like burnt electronics. She wrinkled her nose reflexively.
"Do you feel like a prisoner?" She turned back to her
controls.

He
shrugged, "Not much." He studied her features and wondered
what
a
prisoner felt like. "You're a Ketarian, aren't you?"

Myomerr
nodded. "Yep. Why?"

Duncan
smiled a boyish grin, "I've never seen one... you... your
race
I mean. You're very pretty."

"Thanks,"
she replied, "you're pretty cute yourself."

He
extended his hand, "Duncan. Ensign Duncan Taylor to be exact.
My
friends
call me Dunk. Y
ou
can call me Dunk if you like..."

She
shook his hand. "Ok, Dunk. Ensign Myomerr. No second name, no
nicknames."
She angled toward the stern of the Freedom. “So what happened
back there...?

“
I
had an electrical fire, e
verything
was dead, the ejection system included, thank God there was a manual
emergency release on the canopy or I'd still be locked in there. I
even had to cut through my damn belts.”

“
You
might want to contact customer support about that, sounds like a
warranty issue...” She grinned, her canine teeth showing,
staring at him again briefly, then turned back to the controls and
approached the stern of the Freedom to land.

“
Yeah
maybe, huh? Wait...” he grinned, “funny.” Duncan
stared at the open stern of the Freedom, as it grew in the shuttle's
windshield. “Has this thing been here the whole
time?"

"Sure,"
she answered without breaking her concentration. "About four
weeks."

"We
never saw it. Hellion, I flew right
over
it and never saw it..."

The
Ketarian smiled. "You weren't supposed to. Bet you never saw
our
fighters either..."

"Fighters?
What fighters?"

FREEDOM,
HESPERRIN SYSTEM :
METAMORPHOSIS

Jack
was stretched out on the couch in the quiet darkness of his
ready
room and listened to the healthy rumble of the ships engines. The
only light in the room was provided by the holochart hovering above
the conference table, a thousand-plus points of light shimmering
like magic. But he was staring at the green line which ended at the
glowing yellow cube at his end of the table. That was home. Fritz
stirred where he lay on the couch across Jack's feet. The Shepherd
made little noises in his sleep and his paws made running motions.
In his mind, he chased noisy seagulls across a warm golden beach,
watching them scatter. Then he ran into the surf to play.

Steele
shifted his view from the holochart to the ceiling and
pensively
touched the black eye patch Doc had exchanged for the sterile white
one. It sort of made him look rogueish like a swashbuckler, but he
decided it would take some getting used to and would prefer his
sight back. Doc had mumbled something about how well he was healing,
but Jack had been too busy thinking about home to listen. He hadn't
thought about it for months, but he wondered if his Cobra was still
parked along side of Brian's pickup at the back of the hangar at the
airport. He fantasized about the feel of the car on solid ground,
how it handled, how it felt and sounded.

Steele
was asleep, the holochart still on, when Paul, Mike, Brian
and
Alité, entered his ready room from the bridge. Fritz was
awake instantly, poised for defense over his friend's sleeping form.
The long- haired Shepherd hadn't spoken much lately, the novelty of
it having worn off. He'd reverted mostly back to his instincts and
training in weeks of late and most of his memory and distinct
personality had resurfaced as reliably as a fingerprint after
sanding. Yet, he remained more than he used to be and enjoyed his
uniqueness. With the sense of discord he'd felt recently from
LaNareef, the Shepherd rarely dropped his guard or left his friend's
side.

Paul
called up the lights after entering but only saw the dog in a
relaxed
position, the animal's acute sense of smell identifying the visitors
as the door opened and before the lights. "Hello," said
Fritz quietly, wagging his tail.

“
Hello,"
replied Alité softly.

Mike,
Paul and Brian, were studying the holochart. "What is it,
Pappy?"
Asked Mike.

"Our
route home," he answered.

"That
must be home," said Brian pointing at the yellow cube at the
other
end of the chart. Paul nodded in confirmation.

"It
looks so far..." said Mike in awe.

"It
is," mumbled Jack from the couch, his eye still closed. He
swung
his
feet off the couch and sat up, slowly running his fingers through
his hair. "But we'll make it." He rubbed the sleep from
his right eye and adjusted his eye patch. "I'm hungry," he
announced.

"I
shouldn't be surprised," commented Alité, "you've
been asleep for
twelve
hours."

"Awww,
not again."

"It's
Ok, Skipper," said Brian, "you didn't miss anything. It's
been
real
quiet. We're heading into the Hesperrin System soon."

“
Since
we can skip the trip all the way to UFW Blackmount in Feerocobi for
repairs,” added Paul, “we can stick to the less traveled
routes if we wanted to.”

Jack
rose and stretched. "I can't focus on this on an empty stomach,
anybody else hungry? I'm starved."

Mike
grinned widely. "A man after my own heart."

"How
ya' feelin' big guy?” Paul asked quietly, as they moved out
onto
the
bridge.

Alité
came up on Jack's blind side and took his hand. "I'm Ok I
guess,"
he replied. They crossed to the exit and continued down the
corridor. "But I can't seem to help feeling a little sorry for
myself. I haven't looked at it in a mirror yet... afraid to. And
flying's out of the question..."

"We
ought to stop and see Doc before we eat," said Alité,
changing
the
subject.

"Geez,"
groaned Jack, "haven't I spent enough time in sickbay?"

"Just
for a minute or two," added Paul. Mike, Brian and Fritz,
trailed
just behind.

"Ok,
Ok," sighed Steele, "let's get it over so we can go see
what Marna's got cooking in the galley. I guess my appetite's coming
back - that's all I can seem to think about lately."

■ ■ ■

CABL
M7 dried his hands on a sterile towel and walked over to where
Jack
sat, reclined in a contoured chair. "Ok, Captain, let's have a
look, shall we?"

Jack
turned to Alité and the others. "Go wait outside, I
don't want
you
to see..."

She
squeezed his hand. "We already have, we're staying." Jack
made a
face
of distaste. "Never mind that," she told him. "Go
ahead, Doc." She'd remembered not to call him M7.

M7
removed the patch, opened Jack's sunken eyelids and examined the
socket
with his micro-zoom optical. The lens extended and produced a faint
whir as M7 zoomed in. "Absolutely perfect..." he muttered.
He straightened up and backed away. "I'm very good you know,"
he told Jack. "In fact, I'm exceptional." He smiled,
pleased with himself. "Well," he said, turning away to a
surgical implement caddy, "You're ready."

"For
what?" inquired Jack, worried.

"For
this, of course." Doc turned back and held up a small cylinder
little
more than an inch long, between his thumb and forefinger.

"What
is it?"

M7
returned to where Jack sat and held out his rubber gloved hand.
In
it was a small metal cylinder with a tail of wires at one end.
During closer scrutiny, Steele saw small rods along its sides and a
convex lens wider than the cylinder at the other end. "It's
your new eye," the doctor told him. "Temporary of course.
We'll get you a more natural one later if you like." It looked
much the same as the one Doc had, or even Fritz's, but it was
smaller. "It won't stick out like mine does," said Doc.
"You'll be able to close your eyes normally."

Jack
was getting over his initial fear and studied it carefully.
"How
does it work?"

"Well,
I had to put a small chip in your brain and wire it in,"
explained
M7. "And we put little clips on your eye muscles. They'll hold
onto these little rods which control the eye and hold it in."
Jack was fascinated and said so. "It'll feel funny for awhile,"
he continued as he bent over Jack to put it in, "but you'll get
used to it."

Using
a long set of tweezers, M7 reached to the back of the empty
eye
socket and plugged the eye's tiny wiring connector into its mate.
Jack jumped like he'd been shocked and suddenly realized he was
seeing the palm of M7's hand. "Easy, Jack," he breathed.
M7 glanced up at Alité. "Hold his head still..." he
instructed. She complied and Jack could feel her closeness, which
was reassuring. The room moved as M7 lifted the eye and inserted it.
Clikit,
clikit, clikit...
One by one, Doc clipped the muscles onto the control rods, creating
a great deal of discomfort for Jack. "Done!" he said,
straightening up. He pulled a small vial from his pocket, and with
it, put several drops of liquid on the eye's lens. "How's
that?" he asked, backing away.

Jack
blinked, both eyes tearing. "Wow..." he said quietly, "I
can
see!"
He stood up, a little wobbly at first and moved to a mirror. It
didn't look natural, but it wasn't hideous either. The lens was
shaped the same as the front of a real eye but it was all black,
looking like a piece of shining, black opal. If he looked real
close, he could see the mechanical iris inside. He smiled as the
iris moved, "Neat..." He turned around. "Thanks, Doc.
Thanks a lot!"

"Well
I can only take part of the credit," said M7. "You'll have
to
thank Hecken Noer, he built the eye for you."

Jack
didn't recognize the name. "Who's he?"

"Our
new Chief Engineer," said Brian. "He was one of the
refugees."

"Guy's
brilliant," added Paul. "He's got the engines operating
way
beyond
original specs," he said with an expansive wave of his hand.

"Says
he can do our fighters like that too," added Mike.

For
the moment, Jack forgot his hunger. "Well let's go see this,
Mr.
Wizard..."