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From: kenn_ghannon@hotmail.com
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Subject: {ASSM} Stranded, Ch.1: What Goes Up... [nosex] by Kenn Ghannon (The Missing)
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Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2004 06:10:05 -0400
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Disclaimer: While the following work of fiction contains no sexual
content, future installments will.  If written accounts of acts of a
lewd or sexual nature offend you or are illegal for you to read,
please discontinue your perusal of this story.

All people here are fictional.  Any similarity to people living or
dead is purely coincidental.

If you've gotten this far, I hope you enjoy.

Author's Note: I don't know if anyone is actually reading this story,
but...   I'm going to try to post a chapter a week, Deity willing.
This will usually occur on Friday (thought it may slip to Saturday or
Sunday, depending).  I just thought you might want to know...


Chapter One: What goes up...

It was a beautiful day for flying.  The sun was shining and there
wasn't a cloud in the sky.  Weather reports along my flight route
were unanimous in their forecasts.  It was going to be gorgeous.  There
was nothing to mar the day, nothing except meeting the reproachful gaze
of my sister.

I was nervous when the vans pulled up.  I also had a large portion of
guilt and shame hanging on my shoulders, a cold, wet cloak hovering
around me.  I hadn't seen Jamie in over a year and I wasn't sure
how I was going to face her.  My failure lay large in my thoughts as I
prepared myself for what was coming.

They piled out of the vans unceremoniously, a rather attractive blond
leading them.  My eyes, however, were on Jamie.

She still kept her beautiful red hair long, but now it lay in soft
ringlets around her face.  The hint of a red mark lay on her thin
button nose.  It was probably from acne but somehow that blemish only
served to accentuate her striking beauty rather than detract from it.
Her eyes were still the soft green of a perfect, flawless opal.  Her
freckles still covered her cheeks in a soft blanket of color.  The
intransigence of her beauty was remarkable.

Not everything had remained the same, of course.  She had grown since
I'd seen her last, maybe 5-5, 5-6.  She had developed a number of
soft, womanly curves as well; this both unsettled and drew me closer to
her.  She was laughing lightly with a willowy blond who was a few
inches shorter than her and while there remained hints of the girl I
once knew the lilt of her laughter had deepened somehow; it had become
more meaningful and commanding.  When she saw me, though, her thin lips
set in a line and she barely looked at me as she passed.

"Michael." I heard her throw behind her in greeting as she passed.
It carried the finality of a tomb in that one word.

"Mr. Devan."  The attractive woman had reached me.  She was blonde,
like me, but where my hair was always a nuisance and unruly, hers was
well managed and hung to her neck in a bang.  Her eyes were blue, also
like mine, but where mine were the icy blue of a cold winter stream
hers were the pale, soft blue of a promising morning.  She wore a
patterned peasant blouse, some type of flowery thing and a neat blue
skirt.  Neither article of clothing did much to hide her beauty,
however, especially her well developed legs which I gave a brief
appreciative glance.  Luckily, she didn't seem to notice.  She stuck
out her hand.  "I'm Ms. Clemons, but you can call me Sarah.  Your
assistant said she would supervise the loading of the luggage.  Are we
okay to board?"

"Of course, Sarah," I said as I shook her hand with a somewhat
forced smile that I hoped looked more friendly than I felt.  I know
that I deserved Jamie's reaction but it still hurt more than a
little.  "Please, call me Michael - or better yet, just Mike.  The
young woman, though, that isn't my assistant.  She's my
co-pilot."  Jan would have laughed had she heard.  She was a
bright-natured young woman and she would have teased me relentlessly to
be called my assistant.

We were soon in the air.  It was a three and a half hour trip down to
Miami from Vermont and an hour stop there while I topped off the jet
with fuel.  During that time, I had found every excuse I could to go
into the cabin and each time Jamie had studiously ignored me.

I guess my emotions were plain on my face, because Sarah pulled me
aside on one of my frequent trips around the cabin.

"It isn't my place to say, Michael," she began.  The look on her
face was one of compassion and concern.  Behind her eyes, though, I
could see more than a hint of mischief and laughter.  "But everything
is going to be okay.  I know your sister pretty well; I've been her
teacher for the past three years.  She's been mad at you for a long
time, a very long time.  She thinks that she hates you but I know that
she doesn't.  If she truly hated you she wouldn't be trying to make
you suffer so badly.  Every time you walk away, that puppy dog
expression on your face, she watches you until you shut the cockpit
door.  My guess is that she's going to make you suffer for a little
while longer and then she'll find some excuse to make up with you.
You could, however, speed the whole thing up by suffering more
publicly."

Her words were light and the message cheered me up a bit.  I smiled at
her, not forced this time and she smiled back.  "I'll try to do
that, Sarah.  Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Then, with a final smile, she returned to her
seat.  I made sure to look extremely forlorn every moment after that
and I found myself glancing to make sure that Jamie was noticing.

The re-fuel went uneventfully; I let the children exit onto the tarmac
for a few minutes to stretch while the plane finished re-fueling and
Jan made sure our flight plan was filed.  Customs came out and checked
everyone's passports, the normal stuff.  It was incredibly routine,
except for the hang-dog expression I wore whenever I was near Jamie.
Jan, of course, took one look at it and just burst out in a gale of
laughter.  I guess I was overdoing it, if only a little.

Flight time to Brasilia was about 10 to 12 hours, depending on tail
winds and flight controllers.  I was spending split time between the
cockpit and the cabin, trying to accelerate my suffering.  I wasn't
really trying to make light of Jamie's anger, I just wanted my sister
back and I somehow wanted to make up for all the years that I'd
neglected her.  Acting worse than I felt was impossible, of course, so
I just tried to let a small portion of the misery I was feeling through
to my features.

I sat with Sarah while I publicly suffered, both because it was in
plain sight of Jamie as much as because Sarah was attractive.  I found,
luckily, that she was also a great conversationalist.

It was a banal conversation for the most part.  We discussed authors we
both enjoyed reading (Ludlum and Heinlein, oddly enough) as well as
those we didn't (Niven, Loughlin).  We talked about the attractions
the kids would be seeing during their 5 week journey through South
America.  She regaled me with funny stories about the students she had
taught.  All in all, it was a great way to spend time.

The shuddering of the plane was the first indication that something was
wrong.  At first I thought it was pretty much normal turbulence but
when the plane dropped twice in a row, I knew something was up.  A
quick look out the windows showed a dark band of greenish clouds that
certainly hadn't been there earlier.

I excused myself from Sarah.  "Students, you'd better buckle up,"
I said as I made my way to the cockpit.  "Looks like a bit of stormy
weather.  I'll see about climbing above it."  I nearly choked on my
words when the plane shuddered hard to the right and I was nearly
thrown off my feet.  My hand on the cockpit door handle was the only
thing that kept me from falling.

"Jan, what the heck is going on?" I started as I staggered into the
cockpit.

"Thank God, Mike," Jan said as she looked up.  "I haven't any
idea where these clouds came from.  I looked down for no more than a
minute to measure our progress against flight plan when the plane first
heaved.  I looked up and there were those damn green clouds where blue
sky had been a moment before."

I quickly took my seat and buckled in.  "That's impossible, Jan.
Clouds don't come up from nowhere.  Not that fast.  No chance you
were dozing?  It's a long, boring flight."

Jan gave me a long, hard look before returning her eyes to the console.
"You know me better than that, Mike.  They came out of nowhere in
minutes...no warning, nothing."  She began tapping hard against the
console.

The sky had turned so dark I had to turn on the overhead night lights
to see what she was tapping.

"What's the matter with the compass?"

"Hell if I know.  It can't make up its mind which way is north."

The pit of my stomach fell away as the plane dropped like a stone
through the air.  The sharp tightening of my stomach told me that we
had just dropped a lot more than 50 feet.  A lot more.  I heard muffled
screams coming from the cabin as I struggled with the suddenly less
than responsive yoke.

"What's our altitude?" I asked, taking my mind off my losing
battle with the stick long enough to try to gauge how far we had
fallen.  My eyes scanned the dark clouds as they wrapped themselves
around us, gently stroking the plane to and fro.

"No idea, Cap.  That's out too.  Damn near everything's acting
funny."

"Did we take a freaking lightning hit or something?  There's no way
so many systems could go out..."  I got a slight shock when I grabbed
tight at the stick.  "Damn it...we're hit.  Lightning or something.
I'm getting a feedback charge from the controls.  It's mushy.
Unresponsive.  We're dropping air here!"

"Cap, it's worse than that.  We're blind.  I've got no
altitude, no compass, nothing.  Everything's gone freaking nuts.  The
radio's quiet too.  I can't even get an echo."

I grabbed the headset and turned to the emergency channel.  "This is
November four niner seven five zulu.  Mayday.  Mayday.  We've taken
electrical damage and are flying blind.  Please advise.  Over."

"Won't work, Cap.  I been trying that for the past couple of
minutes.  We're dark."

"Open the emergency kit; I keep a compass in their as a souvenir,"
I barked at Jan.  I was scared and my fear tempered my words far more
than they should have.  "I'm going to try to turn us around, maybe
get us over, under, or through these damn clouds."

Jan turned and pulled the emergency kit out, opened it, and extracted
an old compass.  I had found the old compass in the hangar when I had
bought the charter business.  I had hung onto it superstitiously; I
figured it had brought me a lot of luck over the years.  I never
thought I'd actually have to use it.

"Jesus," Jan exclaimed as she looked at the old dial.  "Look at
this Mike!"

I looked and a chill filled my stomach.  The dial was revolving so fast
you could barely see it; as fast as a prop propeller.  The stick jerked
out of my hand and the nose tipped down dangerously.  Rain started
pelting the glass in front of my face and I knew that things were going
to get a lot worse.  The rain was so heavy that we were flying blind in
more ways than one.  I needed to come up with a plan real soon but
unfortunately nothing would come to mind.

I grabbed the stick and pulled us up slowly but I couldn't tell how
far we had plunged.  The engines complained a little and it felt like I
was lifting cement, but I eventually managed to level us off.  It
wasn't easy, the wind was in more control of the plane than I was.
It howled around us, angry at us for disturbing its sleep with our big
steel bird.

"Jan, keep sending that distress call.  I'm going to try to keep us
pointed in one direction and see if I can't climb above this."  My
voice was filled with unwarranted comfort; I had no idea where we were
nor where we were going.  The pushing and pulling of the near gale
force winds threatened to tear the stick out of my hands, but I
valiantly pulled the yoke back.

A bright flash lit up the sky almost in front of me and the
accompanying boom thundered in my ears.  I blinked away dark dots
floating in front of my eyes, desperately trying to see.  I thought the
boom had been thunder until I heard Jan scream.

"God, Mike.  We're hit!  We're hit!  Left engine is burning!"

I felt the plane start a shallow, flat spin and I eased back the
throttle on the right.  I banked hard left, into the spin, to try and
get some control but for some reason it only got worse.  I hit the
engine fire button, but it didn't work.  Nothing seemed to be
working.  I went full flaps, hoping to get us into a roll and out of
the flat spin.  The plane shuddered, the hand of the wind shaking her
like a petulant child shakes a doll.  All the while, I could hear the
muffled screams behind me.

I don't quite know how I did it, but I came out of the flat spin with
my heart in my throat.  The yoke was still sluggish and hard and my
prize plane felt like a dying, beached whale.  I eased the right engine
up some and tried hard to compensate for the dead left wing.

"Mike, we're losing altitude fast."

"I can't help it, Jan," I said.  I marveled at the sound of my
own voice, how cold and detached it sounded.  "The right engine
isn't giving us enough of an upward thrust.  I can't help it now.
We're going to go down."

For a second that was an eternity, time stopped.  There was no sound as
my words sank into Jan's brain and her eyes went wide.  She screamed
into the mike "Mayday!  Mayday!  Mayday! This is..." but that was
all she managed to get out as the plane, my prize plane, plowed long
into the raging sea.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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