Where No One Has Gone Before Pt. 05

Upon arrival, Dad led us to his SUV, where we loaded our luggage and piled inside. Fortunately, it was large enough to seat six people comfortably.

"I almost feel like kissing the ground," Gloria exclaimed when we were seated comfortably. The rest of us chuckled at that.

"How far is Jupiter from Earth, anyway?" Tom asked.

"About 357.5 million miles," I said. Tom whistled at that.

"And to think it took us longer to get from SeaTac to Spokane than it did to go from Earth to Jupiter," he mused.

"When you do the math, it makes sense. It takes light anywhere from 35 to 50 minutes to travel from Jupiter to Earth, and we were traveling just a bit faster than light, so it all adds up," I explained.

"That's amazing," Tom said.

"Trust me, even after ten years, I still struggle to wrap my head around it all sometimes," I told him. We watched the scenery as Dad drove through Spokane and then to Coeur d'Alene in north Idaho. We got off the Interstate and took US Hwy 95 north to Sandpoint before jumping off the highway. We finally ended up at the family home, a log house built nearly 100 years earlier by a retired federal agent.

"This is beautiful," Tom exclaimed when he got out of the SUV. "And the air is so clean and crisp. Maybe we'll move up here after we retire. What do you think, Gloria?"

"It is very nice," Kyra's mother responded as she looked around.

"What's that?" Tom asked, pointing at a round building with a dome.

"That's my observatory," Dad said.

"You have an observatory? With a telescope?" Tom asked, shocked.

"Yeah. Built it myself. Get some pretty good views from up here. Not too much light pollution, so I get some excellent pictures. Maybe if we have a clear night, I'll fire it up," Dad promised.

"I'd like that very much," Tom said. We heard something in the trees not far from us and turned to see a deer poke its head into the clearing. It didn't move but stood there looking at us carefully.

"Oh my God. What is that? Is that a wild animal? Is it going to hurt us?" Gloria asked, frightened.

"Oh no, that's just a deer," Dad explained. "There's a bunch of them up here. I put out some corn and stuff for them and they just come out and help themselves. I've seen as many as 15 or 20 of them out here at one time." We settled down and enjoyed a hearty meal, then Dad pulled out his banjo.

"Think you can still keep up with the old man?" he asked.

"Any time," I said, picking up my acoustic guitar. Dad played the first five chords, and I knew what he had in mind. I tuned up the strings and played the same chords on the guitar. Dad started picking, and I joined in as we played "Dueling Banjos." By the time we finished, everyone was clapping in time to

the music, having a good time.

"That was wonderful," Tom exclaimed. "You guys do that a lot?"

"Oh yeah," Dad said. "I'm sure you've heard the family that plays together, stays together. Music, that is. We've done this as long as Bill's been alive, haven't we, son?"

"Sure have," I confirmed.

"Kyra took flute and violin lessons when she was a little girl," Gloria chipped in.

"Yes, we know," Mom said. "She played a bit for us the last time they were here."

"She did? It's been years since I've heard her play anything," Gloria exclaimed. "Come on, sweetheart, would you mind playing something for us? Please?" I looked at my wife, who seemed a bit nervous.

"Well?" I asked. "Did you bring your flute?"

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Kyra asked in a small voice. "What if I make a mistake?"

"So what?" Dad asked. "We probably wouldn't notice anyway. Besides, we're family."

"Well, alright," Kyra said as she grabbed her flute from her bag. "You wanna do that old Tull song we've been practicing?"

"Sure, why not?" I asked in response. Kyra found an online version of an old Jethro Tull songbook for the "Living In The Past" album. We practiced several of the acoustic pieces from that book. "Are you ready?"

"I guess so," she said.

"Here goes nothing," I said as I played the guitar intro.

"When you're falling awake

And you take stock of the new day

And you hear your voice croak

As you choke on what you need to say

Well, don't you fret, don't you fear

I will give you good cheer

Life's a long song

Life's a long song

Life's a long song

If you wait then your plate I will fill..."

Kyra jumped in with her flute and played her part to perfection. No, she didn't sound like Ian Anderson, but to my knowledge, no one could. We had spent many hours practicing this song, and I enjoyed hearing her play. We finished the music, and our parents happily applauded.

"That was beautiful," Gloria said. "What was that, anyway? I've never heard that before."

"That's an old Jethro Tull song, from way back in the 1970s," I told her.

"1970s? Wow, that is old," Gloria said. "Well, I enjoyed it. Thank you for playing, sweetheart. That's the best I've ever heard you play."

"You're welcome, Mom," Kyra said. That night in bed, I held my wife as she shed tears on my shoulder.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" I asked.

"That's the first time in my whole life my mother said she liked hearing me play," Kyra sobbed.

"Well, maybe tomorrow we can start our investigation," I said.

"Into what?" Kyra asked, confused.

"Into finding the alien pod that replaced your mother," I joked. Kyra giggled at that and kissed me deeply before climbing on top of me. We made sweet love to each other for what seemed like forever before drifting off to sleep.

As promised, Dad took us all out on his boat the following day. The women sat under the cover, sipped drinks, and gossiped while Dad, Tom, and I manned the fishing poles. We caught quite a few trout, which Dad put on a stringer and stored in his catch bucket. It was a very relaxing day, and we had quite a feast that night.

We had a pleasant visit with Tom and Gloria that week. I took them on a tour of Coeur d'Alene and the surrounding area, and they seemed to enjoy themselves immensely. Still, I could tell this was definitely outside their comfort zone.

"Now you're talking," Tom said when I took him to the country club and golf course in Hayden, a somewhat more affluent area just north of Coeur d'Alene. "Do you play golf, Bill?" he asked.

"I tried it once when I was just a kid. Never could get the hang of it," I told him.

"Tell you what... Next time we're together, I'll show you how it's done. Deal?" Golf wasn't my thing, but I realized Tom was trying to connect in a comfortable zone, so I accepted.

"You got it," I said. "Might be a few years, though."

"That's okay. I'll be here," he said with a smile. Their visit ended that week, so Dad, Mom, Kyra, and I took them to the Spokane Airport and saw them off. I could tell their short visit to north Idaho had relaxed them considerably, and I was sad to see them leave. To my surprise, Gloria actually had a tear in her eye when she hugged me.

"It was so good to see you kids," she said. "I know I'm not the best at this stuff, but I do love you."

"We love you too," I told her. This was definitely not the same woman Kyra introduced me to five years ago. She was actually warm and caring, not overbearing and demanding.

"I meant what I said, Bill," Tom said as we shook hands. "Next time you're home, I'm teaching you how to play golf."

"I look forward to that," I said.

"Thank you for putting up with us this week," Gloria told Mom. "I know it wasn't easy."

"Nonsense," Mom said. "We loved having you guys up. Come on back, any time you want."

"Thank you again," Gloria said. We watched them board their flight before leaving. We spent the rest of the month with Mom and Dad and had a terrific time. Before we left, Dad cornered me and handed me a small box and a book.

"What's this?" I asked.

"It's a family heirloom," Dad said quietly. I opened the box and saw a small crucifix. "Supposedly given to your Grandfather Greg right before the Second World War. It's been handed down from father to son ever since. Given your new job, I thought I'd give it to you while I still can."

"Well, thank you. I never knew about this." Looking on the back, I saw the initials "EJ." I looked at Dad before asking, "Who is EJ?"

"Supposedly one of your ancestors, Elijah Jones. He was killed in the Civil War during Sherman's March to the Sea. His wife wrote about that time, and her journal was later published. There's an old adobe down in south Texas they supposedly lived in back in the 1850s," Dad said. "State made it a historic landmark, believe it or not."

"We'll have to check it out," I said.

"You should. It's eye-opening." Our time there ended too soon, as far as I was concerned, and we headed east to attend Leesa's wedding.

A limo driver met us at the Portland airport and, after stowing our luggage in the trunk, drove us the 29 miles to Kennebunkport. Neither of us had ever been to this part of the country, and we enjoyed the scenery along the way. We pulled up in front of a large old wooden house.

We followed the driver, who took our luggage into the house and to the room where we would be staying. Leesa met us outside our room, greeted us with warm hugs, then took us on a quick tour of the place. George caught up with us and took over the tour before introducing us to his parents.

"So, you're the fella who kicked that asshole out of an airlock into open space, ain't ye?" George's father, Abner, asked after our introduction. I noticed he sat in an electric chair that doubled as a scooter.

"Yes, sir, I am," I told him. "But it's not something I like to think about."

"Bullshit," Abner said as he puffed on his pipe. "From what I hear, he had it coming. You did mankind a favor, son, whether you know it or not. I don't care what those pansy-asses on television say." I hadn't heard what any of the pundits had said and, for that matter, didn't know the incident with Travers had been a topic for discussion. I looked at George, hoping to find a clue.

"Dad's pretty opinionated about some things," George finally said.

"Damn right," Abner said. "You don't get to be my age without forming an opinion about something."

"Well, to be honest, Mr. Herman, I haven't had much time to pay attention to those pundits. All I did was defend myself. It was either him or me."

"Of course. And my name's Abner, by the way. Mr. Herman was my father," the old man said with a wry smile. I wanted to change the subject - fast.

"This is quite a place you have here, Abner," I said. "I love your view."

"Thank you, Captain. Or can I call you Bill?"

"Please, call me Bill. Not unless you just joined Star Fleet." The old man laughed at that.

"I see you DO have a sense of humor, Bill," he said. "My great-grandfather built this place. They say a former president once lived right over there," Abner added, pointing to another estate in the distance. "Grandad didn't care too much for him, though. Said this way, he could always look down on the man without saying a word." I chuckled at that.

"And I hear your father runs XNN Interplanetary," Abner told Kyra.

"That's right, he does," Kyra acknowledged. The old man grunted at that.

"Never cared for it, myself. But I guess someone has to do it."

"My father is a good man, Abner. He always tries to do the right thing," Kyra snapped.

"I'm sure he is," Abner told her. "I just never cared for that channel. Although I do like that cute little gal they have on late in the evenings. You ever meet her?"

"No, I haven't. I'm too busy with my own work."

"Of course. I was just curious. But if you ever do meet her, tell her ol' Abner Herman says hello," he said with a knowing wink.

"Um, sure, I'll do that," Kyra said nervously.

"Well, George, why don't you finish giving these good folks a tour of the place. I have to go get my daily dialysis. Pleasure meeting you folks," he said as a woman in a white smock entered the room.

"Pleasure meeting you as well," I said as he left. I looked at George, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry about that," George said quietly. "Dad hasn't been himself since the accident."

"That's alright," I told him. George finished showing us the estate, which was quite large and well-appointed. We had a large dinner that evening and spent some time listening to Abner pontificate about this or that. Andrea, George's mother, listened quietly as her husband droned on. After the meal, I was ready for bed, and I could tell Kyra was also.

"Well, that was delicious, Abner, but I'm a bit tired, so if you will excuse me, I think I'll hit the rack," I said. "We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Nonsense, Bill," the old man declared. "Why don't

you and George join me for a cigar and some brandy out on the veranda while the women talk about whatever it is women talk about when the men aren't around."

"Uh, sure, Dad," George said nervously, glancing at Leesa, who didn't look too pleased. "C'mon, Bill, let's go have a nightcap and a cigar."

"Okay," I said, seeing the displeasure on the women's faces. George and I followed Abner onto the veranda, where the older man handed each a cigar. One of Abner's men lit it for us before venturing back inside. We made small talk for a while, then Abner hit me with something right out of left field.

"I get the feeling we've met before, Bill," Abner said.

Shocked, I answered in the negative. "I don't believe so, Abner. I've never been to Maine in my entire life."

"Are you sure? You look an awful lot like someone I met several years ago."

"Quite positive, Abner," I told him.

"Well, maybe it's just me, then. I swear you look just like someone I met years ago." We finished our cigars and brandy, then headed back inside. I went to our room and saw Kyra looking at the book Dad had given me.

"Anything interesting?" I asked.

"Very," Kyra said. "Have you ever read this book?"

"No, I haven't. I know Dad kept it on one of his top bookshelves for years, but he never pulled it down and I never asked about it. Why?"

"Check this out," Kyra said, turning to a picture inside the front cover. It was a black-and-white photo of a man and a woman in 19th-century clothing, and the date on the bottom read 1861. The woman was quite striking, but the man's image caught my attention. "This could be you," Kyra said quietly.

"Damn, you're right," I said. I took the book into the bathroom and compared the image with my reflection. We could easily have been twins. Looking at the information on the next page, I realized this was my great-grandfather Elijah, taken just before he left Indiana to fight in the Civil War. I handed the book back to Kyra, but my interest was definitely piqued.

"Any idea why your father never showed you this before?" Kyra asked.

"No, I have no idea. I'll have to ask him about that."

"This book was published by the Texas Historical Society years ago, but the journal inside was written by your great-grandmother Elizabeth. It's a very interesting look at how people lived back in those days. Do you think we could stop in Hard Rock and check out this place?"

"Sure, if it's still standing," I told her. The truth was, I was interested in seeing it myself.

"I checked, and it's still there," Kyra told me.

"Well, we'll add it to our itinerary, then," I said. "But first things first." I undressed and took my lovely wife in my arms. She melted into me, and we shared a hot, wet kiss before making love. We fell asleep in each other's arms after a very satisfying mutual orgasm.

The house was a flurry of activity the following day as everyone prepared for the outdoor wedding. Caterers and other workers were busy preparing the food and setting up the chairs and the decorations outside. George and Leesa were busy getting dressed for the ceremony.

With all this going on, Kyra and I felt like we were just in the way, so we hung out in one of the rooms in the seaside mansion until it was time for us to get dressed. About mid-day, we went to our room and donned our dress uniforms, as George requested, then went back for the ceremony.

I stood next to George, who looked good in his tuxedo, and stole a glance at my wife, who smiled as she looked back. The music began, and we saw Leesa in her wedding dress, accompanied by her father. He made it into town early that morning. I had to admit, she looked beautiful, and I smiled as I glanced at George.

"You're a very lucky man," I whispered.

"Don't I know it," George whispered back. The ceremony was charming, and I was genuinely happy for my former commanding officer. Afterward, we all retreated inside for the reception, where I shared a dance with Leesa.

"You make a very lovely bride, Leesa," I told her.

"Thank you, Bill," she answered as we finished our dance. George came up to us, and I handed her over to her new husband.

"She's all yours, George," I said with a smile. He took her hand and led her to the dance floor as I stood next to my wife.

"They make a very handsome couple," Kyra told me.

"Yes, they do," I responded. "Not as handsome as us, though," I quipped quietly. Kyra chuckled at that. "Would you care to have this dance with me," I asked.

"Of course," Kyra said. "You know I love a man in uniform." We swept across the floor as others joined us. Eventually, the ceremony died down, and the happy couple ran the gauntlet of rice-throwing guests as they happily scrambled to the limo that would take them to the airport.

"I have to admit, George did well for himself," Abner said as we watched the limo take off.

"Yes, he did," I replied.

"So, what do you two have planned?"

"We plan to take a nice leisurely drive, go south to see Boston and Washington, then head west to Houston and beyond. We have a month to see the sights and play tourist, so we intend to milk it as much as we can," I said. "Kyra's already arranged a rental and we'll be leaving in a bit."

"Well, I hope you have a safe trip, son. It was a real pleasure meeting you folks."

"And you as well, Abner," I said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get out of this uniform."

"I don't blame you," Abner said. We changed into something much more comfortable, packed our belongings, and said our goodbyes. Pulling our bags, we left when the rental company's shuttle arrived at the house.

From there, we drove south toward Boston. Kyra had always wanted to see the city, and I had wanted to see the old USS Constitution - Old Ironsides. My lovely wife also had another goal - to have sex in as many states as possible. I was happy to help her meet her goal, and we frequently stopped at quaint little motels along the way.

We got to Boston and checked out as many sights as possible. I was surprised at how small the Constitution was - I expected the old wooden ship to be much bigger. But it was an exciting tour, and we ended the day with a small meal at the Faneuil Hall marketplace.

From there, we drove south through New York City and ended up in Washington, D.C. We did the tourist routine, visiting the Capitol and the White House. Of course, we stopped at the Smithsonian and went through the aerospace museum. We were especially interested in the section that housed some old spacecraft.

"I can't believe people actually went up in these things," Kyra said as we looked at the tiny Mercury capsule. "It's a wonder anyone survived."

"Yes, it is," I said.

"Thing is, I can just picture you climbing into one of those things," my wife said.

"You're probably right," I said. From Washington, we drove south along the coastline, stopping to look at some of the old Civil War battlefields. We also stopped several times to advance Kyra's goal.

We headed west and spent a day in New Orleans, walking along old Bourbon Street. From there, we went to Houston, stopping at the Corps Academy to see my old Grav Tac sensei, Don Jacobs. I knew he was set to retire soon and wanted to see him one last time. I also wanted to test out for my red belt.