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?