Pilot

  Chapter 20

  Elena's thoughts of once again riding the channels followed her into dreams. She was on board the Storm Chaser this time and could feel the ship moving under her command. The feeling of being one with the ship was back and she laughed in the face of the spray as they moved. The day was clear, the sky an azure bowl above her. Off the lee side dolphins danced in the waves, drawn to the magic a channel rider left scented in the water.

  Elena turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes for a moment feeling the sun on her closed eyelids. She smiled and opened her eyes, scanning the open water. To her physical eyes only leagues of open water met her gaze. She smiled again and saw the world with the sight of a Pilot. The entrance to the channel appeared as if it were an opening between two massive rock formations. She tested the depth and feel of the channel.

  "Easy passage," she said to herself. She steered the ship to the center of the channel and with a bump left the open sea for the open sky. Azure sky bled to black and stars twinkled where once only the sun held sway. The ribbon of water, drawn into the channel with her ship gleamed darkly. Elena breathed deeply. The scent of the sea remained on the ship, as much a part of it as its riggings, but the air no longer held the tang of the breeze. Instead, the recyclers kept air inside the shield fresh and clean. Her hair stirred a little in the currents. The currents were more for comfort than use. Early pilots found without the currents, sailors found the air too still and sailors were an easily spooked lot. The currents helped prove that the ship was moving to those who could not feel. Elena realized she was dreaming.

  "Dreams are better than nightmares," she thought and lay back watching the stars drift by, enjoying the sensations. "I'll have to take this route if I pick up a crew," she thought, recognizing the constellations. At the moment being alone in the great expanse of night was not something she wished to give up. "Besides," she thought, "If it is just me then there is no one else to risk should I give into the Calling." As if on cue, small sections of space around her began to ripple like the air above a blacktop road in the summer.

  "Odd," she thought. The Storm Chaser sailed close to one of the heat spots and Elena stared at it wondering what it could be. Images flashed into her mind the way they sometimes would just before entering a channel. A cold chill raced along her spine.

  "That isn't right," she muttered. Elena turned away from the heat spot, her stomach felt queasy. As her attention left the simmering space, pain exploded inside her head. She woke up and clamped her hands to either side of her head. Her stifled scream came out as a moan. For a few moments she could only rock back and forth slowly and wait for the pain to subside. Gradually it began to recede to the proportions of a normal migraine and Elena let her hands fall to her lap. Slowly she eased her way out of bed wiping the tears from her eyes. She moved cautiously, afraid to jostle her head too much and bring the pain screaming back. She walked over to where she left the leather dream journal and cursed soundly when she realized she didn't have a pen with it.

  "I should have stolen the one from the desk," She thought sourly. She stood in the center of her bedroom and tried to puzzle out where her pens actually were. "I keep buying the stupid things," she said. It didn't help. Pens were simply one of those commodities people were always buying, but constantly searching for.

  "I'm sure there is some sort of metaphor in that, but right now I can't actually bring myself to care." Her eyes locked on the notebook she had been making work notes in before bed and whooped in triumph as she saw the pen on top of its cover. She instantly regretted that decision as the sound cut through her aching head like a knife. She retrieved the pen and took both journal and pen back to the bed. She didn't turn on the bedroom light, but used the light coming in from the outside streetlamp. Its glow was bright enough to work by and didn't hurt her head. She jotted down what she remembered of the dream even though she was certain the first part of the dream was an actual dream and not part of the Calling.

  "Or was it," she mused. The two fit so well together, as if one were the extension of the other. "The dream made me feel a bit like Christopher Columbus or maybe Magellan, striking out into uncharted waters and still afraid of falling off the edge of the world or being eaten by sea monsters," she wrote. Elena realized she was working the situation around in circles and capped the pen and closed the notebook.

  She put the notebook aside and curled up letting thoughts of exploration flow through her. The dreams weren't scary, just odd. The channels didn't work that way. They were established pathways not heat spots in space. She slipped into dreams, flashes passing by with no cohesive whole. A flower, a sunset, a tree, all images of places and things she had never seen. It was a kaleidoscope. She woke in the morning more tired than when she had gone to sleep.