The Tuesday Tales feature continues with a new story this week. The previous story was Shadow of the Beast  To read the story, click on each link: Shadow of the Beast Part 1 | Shadow of the Beast Part 2 | Shadow of the Beast Part 3

This story is a a departure from fantasy for me and into a bit of science fiction where the science is more setting and the fiction is nuanced with it. Click this link to read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Endless Doors

by P. H. Solomon

Part 7

Weeks of preparation followed. Jake moved aboard his ship, The Pilgrim’s Rest, and met his officers. He organized his command and explained his expectations. Anyone he deemed deficient in proper motivation–regardless of age–he requested be replaced. Unknown danger in the form of lost ships awaited his own expedition so he reserved no tolerance for hopelessness. Archangel-Commander Patterson approved every request.

Jake attended more meetings, especially smaller ones and dinners where George Patterson detailed the assignment and its dangers.

George drank his brandy as they sat after dinner the night before the launch. “Jake, with those lost ships exploring between The Afterlife and The Jesús, that quadrant remains unexplored. Many here don’t care, but we’re serving for life and that means we keep moving forward.” Patterson brushed his close-cropped tufts of white hair.

“I understand. That’s why I’ve asked for those most motivated. It’s an earth-year of travel to the other station.” Jake sipped from his own glass.

“And why I’ve given you what you need. Who knows what happened to the others but I’ve got to give you every chance to succeed.” Patterson stared at the darkness beyond the nearby porthole. “Who knows what happened. I think sickness of the mind is just as bad as that of the body. With all us geezers on-board it can be like a plague once it’s loose. Mistakes are made then.”

Jake nodded.

George held up his glass. “To discipline and success.”

Archangel Lassitter joined the small group with them in the toast.

Jake slept in his ship quarters and rose fresh and ready for the launch. He ate with a smile and checked through last minute well-wishes from officers he’d gotten to know in his short time aboard The Afterlife. He sat back as time drew near to embark. The ship floated in the bay like a babe in a womb waiting for birth. It was good to do something. All the waiting at home had sapped his morale. Purpose renewed him. He leaned back in his chair. His wife followed him in space by now. If only he knew her destination.

Bridge com lights flashed and he opened the channel. “Captain-Archangel, here.”

His older second, Baxter, appeared in the projections. “We’re near launch time, sir.”

“Just coming, old man, just coming.”

Jake didn’t need his ID to show him around his ship anymore. Projected console lights winked in the dimness of the bridge. The crew acknowledged him and he sat.

“Status report, please.” Lassitter plugged his ID into it slot in his chair. His controls projected in front of him.

Baxter stood near Jake. “Plasma screws are functional and providing optimal energy for all ship systems and engines, sir.”

Jake suppressed his grin. “Good, and guidance rockets?”

“Fueled and on-line.”

“Well done. Show screen of the bay door. I believe we’re ready. Baxter, request permission to open bay doors and embark.

Across the bridge, the screen displayed white bay doors with lights trained upon them.

Baxter relayed the request to The Afterlife. “Request acknowledged and permission granted.”

Jake leaned forward as the bay doors parted to empty space. “Engage rockets.”

The navigator tapped his console. “Engaged.”

The Pilgrim’s Rest accelerated toward the bay. As the ship left the station, the bay lights filled the screen for a moment and then the ship cleared its host.

Jake stared at the ceiling. He drummed his fingers and sat back. If only they could reach their destination. If only his wife arrived there. Jake and his crew left all that was familiar in search of The Jesús in the boundless, cosmic void.

END

Thanks for reading today. For more information about my writing, please see the page about my epic fantasy series, The Bow of Hart Saga, which includes two award-winning books.

About the Author

The Tuesday Tales feature continues with a new story this week. The previous story was Shadow of the Beast  To read the story, click on each link: Shadow of the Beast Part 1 | Shadow of the Beast Part 2 | Shadow of the Beast Part 3

This story is a a departure from fantasy for me and into a bit of science fiction where the science is more setting and the fiction is nuanced with it. Click this link to read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Endless Doors

by P. H. Solomon

Part 6

No one indicated interest in the assignment when Jake checked later. That was good – and not. Missing ships indicated danger. He tapped a finger on his desk. “These officers act like they expect to go home. But then, life shouldn’t be wasted either.”

“If you have lost an item please note it so–”

“Nothing is lost.” He sighed. Sometimes automation wasn’t useful. “Note, I volunteer for this duty assignment.”

“Noted in the agenda.”

“Lead me to food.”

“Guidance to the cafeteria will be indicated on your card.”

With several hours until the meeting, Jake planned his own preparations. He yawned away the dregs of his thirty years of stasis. His stomach rumbled so he followed it and the card to a meal. The meal suited Jake almost as much as the crisp uniform.

When he arrived at the meeting, a soft murmur greeted the new Archangel when the door whispered open. Jake stepped into the bustle of command officers and slipped into a seat. He maintained silence but squinted at those around him. There wasn’t any excitement from this wrinkled crowd. They displayed a mix of complacency and purpose. Jake shrugged. It was probably hard to maintain morale without the motivations of youth.

“You may be seated ladies and gentlemen.” The commander, his face festooned with age-spots entered.

Jake’s eyebrow twitched. Aside from the wheeze of age and the slow gait, his commander exuded purpose. Surprising, given his age and circumstance. The effectiveness of these command assignments probably varied with each new commander’s willingness and interest.

The senior officer leaned on his podium and rattled through the agenda. Jake waited for the inevitable. He fixed his eyes forward. But his mouth went dry–even after all these years.

“And then there’s the volunteer without even a ship. Lassitter!” The aged commander managed a whip-like tone through his wheeze.

Jake stirred and stood. “Sir.”

“Not taking the easy way out, are you?”

“Sir?” Jake suppressed a frown but it carried in his answer.

“Others have used dangerous duty to check out early.” The commander leaned over his podium like a vulture eying a dying animal.

“I, uh-” Achrangel Lassiter cleared his throat. “I just want something to do. Don’t want to let moss grow under my feet.”

“Ah, I see.” The old man tapped his podium. “Still motivated.” His gaze fanned over the room. “Unlike so many here.”

Someone nearby snickered. “That won’t last long.”

Jake resisted slouching but his mouth felt drier. So it was worse than he’d assumed.

The commander cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve a ship for you and this mission. It’ll be weeks before you’re ready though. During that time you’ll dine with me, I hope? Good! Now, let’s wrap this up.”

Jake sat after a sharp nod.

Another voice commented nearby in low tones, “Can’t hold his prunes.”

Few of those gathered spoke to Jake. Those that did patted his shoulder with a rueful shake of their head. He remained in his uniform and later arrived as requested to dine with his commander. The portal doors swished apart to laughter from elderly voices.

He stepped over the threshold and saluted his commander.

“Oh, none of that here, Lassitter.” He shook Jake’s hand. “George Patterson, always glad to have some military discipline show up around here.” He spread his arm wide. “Welcome to dinner.”

At the end of Commander Patterson’s arm was a glass of brandy. Beyond the alcohol, a long table covered with sumptuous food beckoned.

Jake grinned and stepped toward the table. “Don’t mind if I have a spot of that?”

Archangel Lassitter left behind his old friendships and embraced new ones over the feast.

Thanks for reading today. For more information about my writing, please see the page about my epic fantasy series, The Bow of Hart Saga, which includes two award-winning books.

About the Author

The Tuesday Tales feature continues with a new story this week. The previous story was Shadow of the Beast  To read the story, click on each link: Shadow of the Beast Part 1 | Shadow of the Beast Part 2 | Shadow of the Beast Part 3

This story is a a departure from fantasy for me and into a bit of science fiction where the science is more setting and the fiction is nuanced with it. Click this link to read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Endless Doors

by P. H. Solomon

Part 5

The lights in the corridor synced with Jake’s ID and led him through the station’s maze. He passed people his age and older, some bustling and others with halting gaits but all on some duty. The uniforms varied in design and color that left him bewildered as to their functions. Each time Jake passed an intersection, he consulted his ID for directions as it blinked in the direction of his quarters. When he arrived, Jake pressed his card and hand over the sensor and the doors swished apart. He stepped over the runner into the room where dim lights glowed over a neatly made bed.

An automated voice spoke in soothing tones. “Greetings, Archangel. Request what you need and it shall be provided.”

Jake cleared his throat. “Ah, turn on the lights.”

The lights brightened at a gradual pace.

He moved to the closet and found several uniforms pressed and hung. Jake touched them in turn. He nodded at the sharpness of each set. “Good enough.” His old one was not present. Probably lost or discarded when the transport was unloaded.

“Please repeat the request.”

“Nothing.”

“Standing by.”

Jake inspected his quarters further but found nothing beyond his basic necessities. He sat on the bed and slapped his thighs with a sigh. “What to do now.”

“You have a message waiting.” A chime sounded. “Your requested stylist has arrived.”

Jake let a shuffling woman into his room. She motioned him to a chair in front of his mirror without introduction. “How do you want it?”

“Military style.”

The stylist’s wrinkles distorted with a smirk. “Didn’t take you for one of them with that mop. But you move like one. You new? Well, I’m Dot.”

“Please to meet you, Dot.”

She shrugged and set to work. Dot proceeded to monologue through the few minutes it took her to crop his hair. “I’ve got two years ’til I’m eligible for mods. I want new knees first but most of the other stylists think small–their hands.”

“Mods?”

“Yeah they give those out for good service awards. You got to be here five home-years to get one, then it’s something every year. They call it incentives. It’s really bribery against just acting retired.” She shrugged. “What do I care? They start fixing things and I feel better. It’s better than staring out the window and moping.” Dot continued by telling him gossip about people he didn’t know and probably wouldn’t meet.

Jake listened but his eyes drooped by the end of the haircut.

“There, done.” Dot snorted. “Bored you to sleep, did I?”

“No, really, it’s the trip.” And her–but no sense in being impolite.

She crossed her arms, cocked her head and pulled a half-smirk of disbelief. “Not just new but fresh off the ship?” At his nod, she leaned close. “Well, hon, just take your time. It’s not retirement but there’s no hurry here in forever-ville.”

Jake showed her out. “Thanks for the advice.”

Dot shrugged and hauled her equipment away in the corridor.

“Now, where was I?”

His automated friend answered, “You have a message waiting.”

He shrugged. “Show me the message.” Jake stood at the projection console.

A man’s face, lined with age but chiseled with an air of command, projected over the desk and spoke. “Officer’s meeting agenda-”

“Silence and scroll for reading.” The words scrolled in the projection in silence. New assignments rolled past. There was a welcome for Jake. He arched an eyebrow. They already knew he was there. Someone possessed military efficiency. An assignment rolled past. “What’s this?”

“You are viewing the officer’s meeting agenda. Assignment 221984 has just-”

“Go back to that assignment and hold.” Jake leaned forward. He squinted with his mouth open.

“Do you require a larger font?”

“Uh, no.” He swallowed. Three ships lost in an unexplored quadrant and another needed to fill the mission. A long-range sweep to rendezvous with The Jesús. “Mark this assignment for follow-up.”

The marker appeared in the projection.

Archangel Jake stood and paced the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. He tucked his chin as he walked. Something interesting already. Surely others would take it or claim seniority over him.

“Do you wish to exercise? There is a gym–”

“Dim the lights.” There was plenty of time before the meeting. He undressed and lay on the bed. Jake stared at the projection as it hung over the desk. He’d check the status when he woke.

Jake closed his eyes and shifted into a comfortable position. It was a good bed and adequate quarters. A memory hovered behind his closed eyelids of a trip taken during his months of preparation to leave home forever. He’d stood beneath a natural arch of rock and stared at the night sky, what was to become his new home and here he was. The stars flickered endlessly then, like fireflies, as he’d wondered what his future held. Jake remembered those moments, the unfamiliar uncertainty mingled with the approaching finality. He inhaled, then exhaled, and released memories of his old home now thirty years past and slept in new his new one.

Thanks for reading today. For more information about my writing, please see the page about my epic fantasy series, The Bow of Hart Saga, which includes two award-winning books.

About the Author