Welcome to the Seaview
Zone.
Next stop - the Restaurant
at the End of the Universe!
(Note: This story follows my story Journey With Fear. It makes more sense if you‘ve read that one as some of the characters were previously introduced there.)
Captain Third Rank Igor
Britanov stood looking around himself in puzzlement at the strange swirling,
shimmery grey fog that had suddenly swallowed him. The buildings of the Soviet
Northern Fleet base at Gadzhievo had seemingly vanished between one heartbeat
and the next, halting him in mid stride. Just what is going on here? Where
are the docks, the boomer I am reporting to as starpom?
A flicker of light in the
distance caught his eye. That shouldn’t be there, he realized as he
turned in a slow circle, trying in vain to spot something, anything, familiar
in the now surreal landscape. Am I dead? Has the base been nuked and I’ve
died? Could this be … Heaven? He certainly hoped it wasn’t Hell. Well, there
was only one way to find out. He squared his shoulders and began to stride
briskly towards the flickering light.
His step faltered only a few
moments later, when he reached the edge of the fog - and the beginning of
something he could only describe as a vast parking lot. But the vehicles in it!
Some of them were huge - and could only be spacecraft of some sort. Others were
clearly ground transport of some kind. There were even ships, blue water ships,
none of which bore more than a passing resemblance to anything he’d ever seen,
even in a book. There were a couple he thought were probably submarines, but
sitting on dry land, it was hard to tell if they swam or flew. Maybe both for
all he knew. Sitting in the center of it all was a low building, with a garish
neon side over the door proclaiming something, but it was too far away
for him to make out what. He took a hard swallow. What am I doing here? What
is this place?
The hand that clapped on his
shoulder from behind nearly gave him a heart attack.. He yelped and jumped,
spinning around to confront what he thought must be an attacker - and found
himself staring down into the blue eyes of a red haired American flag officer.
An officer he recognized. He took a step back in disbelief. It couldn’t
possibly be Admiral Harriman Nelson who stood before him. Or he belatedly
realized, Nelson’s flag captain, Lee Crane, who was standing behind his CO.
“At ease,” the officer
commanded him, in perfectly accented Russian. That proves it, thought
Britanov to himself, I’m dead and in … in Hell. God forgive me for ever
being a Communist!
“Who are you?” asked the
Crane figure, also in perfect Russian.
“Captain Third Rank Igor
Britanov, Admiral, Captain. Starpom K-244, sirs!” Britanov snapped to
attention and saluted. He didn’t know what else to do.
It seemed to amuse the
illusionary Americans though, for he saw the faintest twitch of a smile cross
the Admiral’s face. “Do you know where we are, Captain Third Rank?”
Was this a trick question? “Er, no, sir. Not unless it’s Hell.”
The two officers looked
around and shook their heads. “I don’t think so,” said the Nelson illusion. “There’s
a ship over there with Alyesk markings.”
“Alyesk, sir?”
“Aliens,” said the Crane
figure shortly.
Aliens?
“Perhaps we should go on over
to the building and see if we can find the owner of that ship and see if they
know Seldar or can help us contact him.” The two started across the pavement
towards the building. Britanov hesitated. The Nelson figure noticed and beckoned
impatiently at him. “Come along, Britanov. We won’t find any answers standing
around out here.”
He looked around again and
had to agree. Giving a fatalistic shrug, he followed two Americans across the
pavement, all the while wondering who this Seldar was.
“Your English is very good,”
commented the Captain Crane illusion once they had gotten halfway across. “Where
did you learn it?”
“My what?” he spluttered,
coming to a complete stop.
“Your English,” said Crane.
“But I’m not speaking
English.” That brought the other two to a stop with him.
The Admiral cocked his head
and considered his statement. “Oh? What language are you hearing us in?”
“Russian,” he told them. “Unaccented,
too.”
“Interesting,” the Admiral
drawled out slowly, looking very thoughtful. The Captain just looked irritated.
“Does that mean something?”
Britanov asked.
“Probably,” was the answer, “but
I’m not sure what yet.” Nelson turned and looked at the building. “Can you read
the sign yet?”
Britanov squinted. “The
Restaurant at the End of the Universe. In Russian,” he added, anticipating the
question.
“Hmmm. And we see it in
English. Interesting place here.” Nelson set off again, leaving the two junior
offers to exchanges glances and shrugs before they once again fell in behind
him.
“Does he always charge off
like that?” Britanov dared to whisper to the Crane illusion beside him.
“Frequently,” came the dry
reply.
Britanov shook his head. “It
must be terrible to serve under an officer so reckless.”
“Not really reckless,” came
the reply, surprising him. “At least not most of the time. Just running ahead
of the rest of us. It took me while to figure out he does that so his enemies
concentrate on him rather than his friends and subordinates.”
It was a motive so untypical
of the average Soviet officers that Britanov knew that it momentarily froze him
in his tracks. The Crane illusion simply smiled somewhat sadly and walked on.
After a moment Britanov gathered his wits enough to follow. They weren’t the
real Americans, so surely what he’d just heard couldn’t possibly be true!
Could it?
Ahead of him Nelson had
reached the door of the building. The admiral paused, waiting for Crane and
Britanov to catch up. Once regrouped the three of them entered together.
“Huh. Guess we don’t have to
find Seldar after all,” said Nelson. He pointed across the crowded room at a
corner table.
Britanov thought his eyes
were going to bug out of his head. The place was filled with all kinds of
creatures; the three of them appeared to be the only humans in the place. He
looked at the table Nelson was indicating and saw a small four armed creature
with light rust colored fur - and four green eyes. The creature was indeed
waving them over.
He looked at Crane. “You know
this Seldar?”
“We met him on Venus a couple
of years ago. He rescued us from the Centaur after they kidnapped my XO’s space
shuttle and then grabbed us.”
Britanov blinked. Yep, I’m
definitely dead. There’s no way I could possibly be dreaming this. It’s just
too weird.
By now Nelson had led the way
across the room and was pulling out a chair at the table where Seldar sat.
Crane joined him, leaving Britanov little option but to join them as well.
The creature they’d identified
as Seldar looked at him curiously. “This is not Commander Morton,” it said in a
high child-like voice, “though he bears great resemblance to him.”
“Seldar, This is Captain
Third Rank Igor Britanov.”
What passed for eyebrows
above the largest pair of eyes arched upward. “He is Russian? I thought your
nations were enemies.”
“We didn’t bring him,” Crane
told the alien. “He was already here when we got here.”
All four of the creature’s
eyes blinked in what Britanov thought might be astonishment. He was pretty
astonished himself. This alien knew he was Russian just by his name and rank?
“That is very interesting.”
“So’s your accent, Seldar. Or
perhaps I should say the lack thereof.”
Seldar laughed, a very human
laugh Britanov thought. “It is this place, Admiral. None of us are really here
- it does not exist in a physical sense, at least not as any of us would
understand it.”
“So it isn’t in the
Federation?” asked Nelson.
“No,” Seldar told them. “As
far as we’ve ever been able to determine, it exists outside of both our normal
space and time. This is the first time I myself have ever been here. I had
wondered why when I first found myself landing here, but I think now it was to
greet you. You are the first humans to ever be honored with seeing this place.”
“Honored?” asked Crane.
“It’s not just a restaurant -
it is meeting place for those who have been chosen for greatness.” The alien’s
eyes slid back to Britanov.
“I have no idea why I’m here,”
he told them. “One minute I was heading down the street to the docks, the next
I am here. Perhaps a mistake?”
Seldar considered, then shook
his head. “The Elders don’t make those kinds of mistakes. If you are here with
them,” he inclined his head towards Crane and Nelson, “then in some fashion
your fates are linked.”
“Our fates? Then I’m not
dead?”
“No. You are, however,
suspended in time. When you go back, you will find that no time has passed
there. You may or may not remember what happened here clearly.” Seldar gave a
four shouldered shrug. “It depends on what the Elders choose.”
“Who are these Elders,” asked
Nelson with some irritation, “that they think they can toy with us like that?”
“I believe, Admiral, that
your people might once have considered them gods. Mine certainly would have.”
Being dead might be
preferable. And if I do get back, I don’t want to remember this!
“Once would have considered
them gods?” There was a note of wariness in Nelson’s voice. “So just what are
they then?”
“Powerful beings, who from
time to time take a direct interest in mortal affairs,” said Seldar in a
serious tone, “though they are neither omnipotent nor omnipresent. However, one
crosses them at his own peril.”
“Are they inherently good or
evil?” asked Crane.
“Neither. They simply…are,”
admitted Seldar, “though the ones who frequent here I would call good.”
“And where did they came
from, if I might ask?” came from Nelson.
“We have no idea,” said
Seldar. “They were here when my people first began to travel the stars and we
have found references to them in artifacts from cultures that haven’t existed
for millions of years. They may well be the closest thing there is to immortal;
they are energy entities. We don’t know if they have always been such, or if
they evolved from material life forms like ourselves.”
“So what makes them think
they have any right to meddle in our business?” Nelson clearly had his hackles
up.
“Ah…,” Seldar seemed somewhat
taken aback by the obvious animosity of the two Americans to even the idea of
outside interference in their planet’s affairs. Britanov had to admit he didn’t
much care for the suggestion himself.
“Perhaps I should answer
that,” came a crystal voice from behind. The three humans swiveled their heads
around to behold an ethereal, vaguely hominid looking figure floating towards
them. Obviously this wasn’t a common sight even here, for the hum of
conversation throughout the room fell silent.
“And you are?” asked Nelson,
clearly determined to not be intimidated even by a being that fairly radiated
power.
There was a tinkling
crystalline laugh. “You would not know any of my names, Admiral Nelson, for I
have never been to your world.”
“So why this meeting?”
The figure sighed. “There are
others of my kind, ones who follow the dark, who revel in chaos - they are
currently meddling in the affairs of your world. They are the reason the
Centaur and other races you have encountered invaded your world. I and my …
associates, for lack of a better word - are followers of the Path of Light, and
wish to counter their interference, for we believe it to be wrong to toy with
other races simply for the amusement of it. We felt that by giving you certain
information, we could help your people avoid the direr consequences of that
influence.”
“Ahhh,” said Seldar, to be
echoed by both Nelson and Crane. It was apparent to Britanov that this
statement meant a great deal to both the Americans and their alien friend. He,
however, was totally clueless. Earth has been invaded? By aliens? Nobody
ever mentioned anything like that to me! He did have to admit, however,
that a lowly executive officer on a submarine wasn’t going to be in the loop on
something like that - not unless he were unfortunate enough to be on the front
line of the invasion. On the other hand, it didn’t seem to him that an invasion
was something even the Soviet government would be able to totally conceal, so
perhaps this was just another layer of delusion in whatever was happening to
him. Although, it certainly did seem real!
“That might explain our
being here,” said Crane stiffly, “but what about him?” He indicated
Britanov with his thumb.
“His time has not yet come,”
said the Elder serenely.
“Time for what?” inquired
Nelson somewhat testily.
“To be a hero.”
“And save his country?” asked
Crane, echoing Nelson’s antagonism.
“No, Captain - to save yours.
Then it will be up to you to save him.” With those enigmatic words, the
Elder faded away.
I will what!??? The room began to fade, along with the astonished
Americans….
What?
Britanov stumbled to a stop
in the middle of the street, unsure of what had just happened. It seemed like
there was something he ought to remember, but whatever had just been on his
mind had completely flown out his ears. Must not have been important…
Then why did he feel that
something earthshaking had just happened? He looked around again. There was
nothing different about the base. K-244 lay ahead of him, snug at his moorings.
Nothing different there either.
He looked out across the
harbor at another sub coming in and recognized him as one of the older boomers,
a NAVAGA class boat known to the west as a YANKEE-1. He thought he might be the
K-219. A strange chill ran down his spine as he identified him, forcing him to
remind himself that he was an officer in the Soviet Navy, not a superstitious
peasant. Still…
He decided that at his first
opportunity, he would make a small offering to the powers of the sea; after
all, he was a sailor on the sea and the sea was a big place - big enough to
hold a lot of things no one understood.
And what the Party didn’t
known wasn’t going to hurt them.
*****************
Lee Crane looked across the
chart table at Nelson. “Igor Britanov?” he asked uncertainly, not sure if what
he thought had just happened really had.
“The Restaurant at the End of
the Universe?” Nelson arched an eyebrow in a question of his own.
Crane reluctantly nodded
affirmation.
Nelson sighed as he tossed
his pencil down on the chart table. “I guess we need to keep an eye on our
Russian then.”
END?