Caleb 46 - Vacation

Author's Note

It seems that the closer we get to the end of Caleb's college career, the further we move away.

I had thought that we would be at the end by this time, and that the first book would be done, and yet here we are, Caleb still has a year of study. And before that, a European vacation.

I wonder what might happen there.

As Always thanks to Dr Mark for his editing skills, help and advice. And thanks, you guys for sticking with me for so long.

PM

Caleb 46 - Vacation.

I reclined, dozing on a sumptuous leather sofa, Amanda's head on one shoulder and Mary's on the other. Jules and Ness were sleeping on the chairs opposite.

We had been in the air a little over seven hours, and had over two hours left before we reached London. Flying, I had decided, was boring, at least as a passenger. I'm sure Gerry and our co-pilot were not nearly as bored as I was

Gerry had approached me late the previous afternoon, and told me that he had spoken to Dean about my taking all his flying knowledge. I had taken the offered memories. His mind had been nowhere as regimented as Kevin's, or Dean's, so I knew I wouldn't assimilate his knowledge quickly. However, I had had a decent night's sleep, and now another five or six hours of boredom on the plane as we flew. I'd finally assimilated all of his aviation memories. Theoretically, I should be able to fly both fixed and rotary wing aircraft - but as with everything else, knowing the theoretical basics was only half the story. I needed flight time in order to develop the reflexes and muscle memory to make me a pilot. I determined that I would start my training as soon as I got back to the US, using my birthday present from the twins.

Dean had hired a second pilot, a woman named Judith. She was a charter pilot who usually worked delivering pre-owned aircraft to their new owners once they were bought. She was in her mid-thirties and trim. Apparently, you can't be fat doing her job since some of the smaller planes had a weight limit.

Judith had been introduced to us when we had boarded, but apart from that we had had little communication with her. They had taken turns leaving the flight deck to eat and use the lavatory, but that was about all.

Judith was only going to do the trip from the US to London. Once we arrived, she was off to another job, although I had no idea where or what that was. I got the impression that she took this gig to get her to London, where she would collect another aircraft. Gerry would have a different co-pilot for the return leg.

I looked around the interior of the plane. Cheryl and Dean were both dozing near the front of the cabin, while Louise was asleep in Josh's lap. Josh had his seat reclined, head back, snoring quietly. The pilots had darkened the cabin to allow us to try and get some sleep.

Stiff from being seated for so long, I eased myself out from between the twins and stood. I moved to the rear of the cabin and into the galley where I made myself a coffee. I wondered if the pilots would like coffee also. I decided to make them each a cup, just in case. I already know how Gerry liked his coffee, and I had seen Judith make herself one earlier; I made them both a drink, and took it up to them on the flight deck.

Both were wearing headsets so neither heard me enter. I could tell that the autopilot was currently controlling the aircraft. I examined the screens and, amazingly enough, was able to read and understand all the controls and displays in front of me.

I tapped Gerry on the shoulder. He looked up and grinned as I passed him his drink. Judith noticed me as I was doing this, looked up and smiled at me as I passed a drink to her as well. She took off her headset.

"How's it going back there?" she asked.

"Boring," I said. "They're all asleep."

"What?" she said, "All those women and you can't find a single one to join the Mile High Club with?"

"Is that actually a thing?" I asked. "I thought it was just an urban legend."

"It's real," she said.

"And I suppose you're a member." She looked insulted.

"Of course," she said. "I've been flying since I was ten. I lost my virginity in a Bombardier a number of years later - but to be fair it wasn't flying the first time."

I smiled.

"How much longer do we have?" I asked.

"Just over the hour," she said. "We'll be starting our descent in about fifteen minutes. Perhaps you should rouse everyone and get them ready for landing. Seat backs in the upright position and tray tables stowed and all that."

I shook my head. "You sound like a frustrated airline pilot?"

"Fuck no," she said. "They're nothing but glorified bus drivers. Give me private charter and delivery any day of the week. I never know where I am going from one week to the next, nor what I will have to fly or how it's going to be."

"You're only flying this leg with us?" I asked.

She nodded. "I have a pickup to do from the Manchester area, a little airstrip called Barton. I'm meeting up with another guy for the return leg. There is a plane there that we need to take back to the US. It's going to be a long haul."

"Well good luck with that," I said. She grinned at me, but then a beep from the autopilot told her, and me, that we had reached a waypoint. Gerry started talking to ATC on his radio, and I nodded to her and retreated to the cabin, leaving them to get on with their work.

Dean opened his eyes as I came back into the cabin.

"There's a bed in back," he said, "If you wanted to take her and join the Mile High Club."

I grinned at him. "No time," I said. "We're about forty five minutes out. We need to prep for landing."

I moved through the cabin, picking up cups and bottles and took them to the galley. I made sure that there was nothing loose lying around. Then I nudged Louise awake and suggested she move back to her own chair for landing rather than on Josh's knee.

The landing was uneventful, and we arrived at just after six in the evening local time.

"Remember," said Dean, "they are very touchy about weapons here. Anything and everything is classed as an offensive weapon. That knife of yours, Caleb, leave it onboard. You will get arrested here if you get caught carrying it."

"Really?" I said. "It's a pocket knife."

"It's illegal here," he said.

I shrugged and took the knife Dana had given me for my birthday and put it in one of the lockers on board.

Gerry helped us unload our luggage from the baggage compartment. He was going to go do his own thing while we were in London. We intended to spend a week here looking around and seeing the sights.

When we hit passport control, the officer scanned my passport and frowned. He looked at his screen, scanned it again, and then picked up the phone in his booth.

A couple of minutes later, a short man in a uniform came to the booth. He took my passport from the officer and asked me to follow him.

"What's going on?" asked Mary through the connection.

"I have no idea," I said. "I'll let you know just as soon as I do."

I was taken to an office up a flight of stairs. The man in uniform knocked on the door and, at the shout from within, opened it and ushered me inside.

The man sat at the desk in the office wasn't wearing a suit. He wore tan pants, a shirt, and no tie. I guesstimated he would be about the same height as me, but he looked twice my age. His hair just beginning to recede and he was starting to grey at the temples.

The man in uniform handed my passport to the man behind the desk and stood back.

"Thank you," the man behind the desk said. "Wait outside please."

The uniform nodded and retreated, closing the door behind him as he left."

"Mr Stott," said the man. "My name is Colin Goode. I just need to have a quick chat with you."

"About?" I asked.

"I was contacted by Matilda Bree," he said. "She informed me that you were travelling to the UK. It's a courtesy when power users come in from overseas. We like them to check in with us, so we know who's who and what they're up to."

"Oh," I said. "It would have been nice if she'd told me about it. I wasn't aware of the 'requirement', otherwise I would have made contact ahead of time."

"She told me that there has been some..." he paused, searching for the right word, "reorganization over on your side of the pond. We have yet to make contact with your new council, and since there wasn't really time to do so, Matilda facilitated your first overseas trip."

"Okay," I said. "So, what do I need to do?"

"Do?" he said. "Nothing. I just wanted to introduce myself, and let you know that we know you are in the country. Please," he said handing me his card, "take this. If you should have occasion to use your powers, I would take it as a courtesy if you would contact me and let me know. It saves us a lot of stress and trouble if we keep on top of things."

"When you say use my powers?" I asked.

"You have Compulsion," he said "Yes?"

"I..."

"I, myself, am a Telepath," he said. "Not a particularly strong one, but one all the same. It comes in useful in immigration and customs.

"We have found," he continued, "that when power users come in from overseas, they sometimes stumble across situations they feel they need to deal with. We would request that you not use your powers in the UK unless absolutely necessary, as in to save life and limb. And should you use your powers at all, I would ask that you contact me, so we may minimize any fallout."

"Is that just Compulsion or any powers?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You're a multi?" he enquired.

I nodded. "Compulsion, Empathy, TK, Telepathy." I informed him. "Two of my fiancées are also Empaths."

"I am aware of that," he said. "Their power is not a concern to us. Your Compulsion, however, is a reportable power according to the international agreements."

"Oh," I said. "I'm a Healer too. I don't know if that makes a difference."

"Well, Mr. Stott," he said. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you to be circumspect with the use of your powers. It is only your Compulsion that would be reportable, if you would be so kind. Like you, we have laws in place to ensure that our citizens are not abused by power users and, as inequitable as it is, Compulsion is still the only reportable power."

"We also have a reciprocal agreement with your our counterparts in the US. Should they, or we, need of a power user, we are able to call upon their agents as they are upon ours."

"I'm not actually an agent," I said. "I'm still a student."

He glanced at my passport, presumably to check my age.

"Ah," he said, "my mistake. Anyway, you have my card. If you have any issues or are forced to use your power for any reason, please call me day or night."

"I will," I said. "Thank you."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Can I ask a question?" I asked. He spread his hands.

"Am I going to get this every time I go to a different country?"

"Most certainly," he said. "I see from your itinerary you intend to stay in the UK for a week. When you move on, we will inform your destination that you are coming, and they may wish to speak to you as I have."

"Oh whoopee," I said bitterly. "Welcome to Europe."

+++++

I re-joined my family as they were going through Customs. We went through the green channel with no problems.

"What was that all about?" asked Dean. I shared my memories of the conversation with everyone for speed. All my girls closed and gave me a hug.

"Perhaps," Dean said, "we should consider reducing the number of countries we visit."

"Nah," I said. "I took twenty minutes and wasn't anything more than him giving me a business card and telling me to behave. I'm sure I can handle that."

There was a passenger van waiting for us outside the terminal. It surprised me a little. I guess I'd expected a limousine. We all piled in and the driver loaded our luggage into the compartment at the back, and we set off for the house Dean had rented.

"It's about an hour's drive normally," the driver began to talk, "but this time of day the M25 can be a bit of a car-park. They call it rush hour, but it starts at about five in the morning and goes on until nearly midnight."

He didn't stop talking for the entire ninety minutes we were driving. He pointed out nondescript buildings, and said things like "See that tower there, well before that was built there USED to be...."

He pulled up to the driveway of what appeared to be a private house, where there was a car already parked. As we pulled up, a middle-aged woman came out to meet us."

"Mr. Steadman?"

Dean nodded. "Yes, hi."

She stepped over to him holding her hand out. He shook it.

"I'm Hilary Garrett," she said. "We spoke on the phone. Everything is as you requested. The larger bed is in the Grange room on the top floor. The rooms below have standard king-sized beds in them. The kitchen is fully stocked as per the list you provided. Here are keys for the property. May I show you around?"

He nodded and we trailed around after the woman, being shown where things were, and how to operate the electronics of the house. Many of the lights were either voice controlled or activated by motion sensors. As you walked into any of the bathrooms the lights and a fan would come on. They would stay on for about fifteen minutes after you'd left.

The house was set out over four floors, with a gym in the basement, living space on the first floor, bedrooms each with ensuite on the second, and finally the master bedroom on the top floor. It was a very nice house.

The only thing I didn't like about it was it seemed shoehorned in alongside properties either side. It wasn't actually attached to the neighbouring properties, but there was less than six feet between the outside wall and the boundary fence, then another six feet, and another house. The driveway was less than half the size of ours back home, and while there was a back yard, I wouldn't have been able to do more than sit on the small patio.

Finally, she was done and I was glad. I was hungry and anxious to see what the kitchen had to offer.

Dean walked with the woman to the door, while I caught Ness's eye, and we both went into the kitchen to see what we could make for dinner.

Hilary wasn't wrong. The kitchen was fully stocked. There were all kinds of meats, fresh vegetables, herbs, spices. Everything a hungry chef could hope for. The equipment wasn't bad either. The knives, while not professional chef's knives, were, once sharpened, adequate. Within half an hour, we had cooked us all a nice dinner, and we were sitting around the huge kitchen table, enjoying it, and each other's company.

We sat for a while after we'd cleared away the dinner things and planned what we were going to do the next day. We were within walking distance of several tourist attractions and there was a tube station less than five blocks away, which gave us access to the whole city. I downloaded the Citimapper app, and set the town to London, so all we'd need to do is tell it where we wanted to go and it would tell us exactly how to get there using the public transport systems or by walking.

Despite all of us sleeping a large part of the day, we were tired. It wasn't much after ten that we climbed the stairs to our bedroom. The bed, which was just slightly smaller than our one at home, was big enough to accommodate us all. We fell gratefully into it and Mary's power eased us into sleep.

My eyes popped open and I stretched. It was still dark but that didn't surprise me - I woke up at four most mornings and there were precious few days of the year when it wasn't dark at that time.

I glanced at my watch, surprised that it was only just past 1am. If this wasn't my bladder alarm clock, then what had woken me.

Perhaps the unfamiliar house. I scanned the house, checking everyone was okay. I could feel my four girls with me, with Josh and Louise in the bedroom below, both asleep. Dean and Cheryl were in their room, although it appeared Dean was awake and moving. Also, there were two strange minds, just entering the house, through the kitchen.

I was on my feet and out the bedroom door before I remembered I was naked, but I didn't care about that. There were intruders in my house, albeit only rented, and I was going to make damn sure that they were not going to steal from us or hurt any of my family.

I was halfway down the stairs when Dean stepped out of his room. He saw me and cocked an eyebrow noticing my nakedness. I just shrugged and continued walking past him to the stairs to the first floor.

The two were in the living room now, opening drawers and trying to get the television down off the wall. I'd had enough. I took control of the pair of them and had them freeze exactly where they were. I also scanned the outside of the house, in case they had accomplices waiting there.

The lights in the hallway, activated by motion sensors, came on as I walked down the stairs, and I activated all of the lights on the first floor. There were two young men, wearing hoodies and facemasks like those worn by healthcare workers during the pandemic. Their eyes followed me as I walked toward them.

I could feel their terror and I remembered, just in time, to ensure that neither of them could void bladder or bowels. I didn't want to have to clean up that kind of mess.

"Take your hoods down and show your faces," I said. They did.

They looked to be in their late teens or early twenties. Both looked rough and smelled worse. I suspected that they were addicts of some kind looking to feed their habit.

My girls came down the stairs, Mary carrying some sweat pants and a T-Shirt.

"Unless you plan to beat them with your cock," she said, "I'd get dressed."

Ness snorted and passed me my trainers.

"How did they get in?" I asked.

"Smashed the window in the kitchen door," said Dean. "They taped it over first, but it must have made some noise. I guess that's what woke us both."

I searched them and found that they both had knives. They were kitchen knives with packing tape wrapped around the handle, but no less deadly for that.

I sighed.

I went back upstairs and retrieved my phone and my wallet. I fished out the card that the man at the airport gave me.

He answered on the second ring. "Mr. Goode?" I enquired. He confirmed. "Caleb Stott. We spoke at the airport earlier?"

I heard him sigh.

I explained the entire situation, and he told me to sit tight. He would call the local authorities and he, and they, would be with us in half an hour.

I made coffee and we sat and sipped at the brew, like some parody of viewers at an art gallery observing a pair of particularly ugly sculptures.

I hadn't released the boys. Neither could move more than their eyeballs. They could breathe, but that was the extent of the movement I'd allowed.

Almost exactly thirty minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Colin Goode, and two police officers, complete with British police helmets, standing on the doorstep. Wordlessly I stepped back and allowed them to enter.

They walked into the living room to see the two boys standing motionless in the middle of the floor. The knives each had carried were on the floor, one by each of them.

Colin nodded at the police officers who moved to take control of the boys. As they each got a grip I released my hold. Their hands were pulled behind them and cuffs were applied. Each was arrested and had his rights read to him. It was strange hearing a different script than the Miranda rights I was so used to hearing.

The knives were collected, placed in evidence bags, and the boys were led outside. Colin came to me.

"Would you be so kind as to share your memory of the event?"

I gave him the memory from the moment I woke, to him arriving. He seemed amused for a moment.