More Narrative

Vince is not thinking about the ridiculous amount of money about to come his way, from Arnold the Furher of Commiefornia is going to play him to that the multi-billion dollar Shadow Gov’t payout, he has other concerns. He needs the planes wings to not fall off to collect any of that money.

That is not a guarantee.

Vince is a sky Pirate he is used to risk. He knows whenever he takes off there is a risk he wouldn’t return. He knew when he modified the boat he could get into space. He figured he would be able to get a ride back on a shuttle or an escape pod or something, you know, designed for space. This was going to be a tough landing.

He is glad to have Eliza sitting next to him.

She is an ace pilot and she has such a nice rack. But Vince doest’t have time to think of things like that. He is mostly glad because she has gotten though tougher spot than this. Well, maybe not tougher, this one is a whopper.

This was a plane monster, a Boeing 314. Built in 1938 to cross the pacific, San Francisco to Hong Kong. Vince liked the idea of an old plane like that floating in space for the next thousand years, but instead he’ll fly it home.

Damn.

“Eliza, we need the shield on full up front.” Vince says.

“Already there, I also have placed a filter to take Jack off the intercom.” Eliza replied.

“Good thinking. He is an annoying cuss, but useful I suppose.” Vince replied.

He didn’t really want to think about Jack. He certainly didn’t want to hear Eliza talking about him. Vince didn’t get Jack. He was not tough or smart. He just was, full of pop culture and other such foolishness. Weird.

None of that was on Vince’s mind., the plane was.

“Alright, here we go.” Vince mumbles.

He pressed the stick forward and exits space. The stick presses back. This old plane likes not having to deal with gravity or air or water. You can’t rust in space. Vince however needs all those things and fight the plane to get them.

“How are the shields holding, Eliza?" he asks as he looks back at the port wing. “Good, still there” he thinks.

“They are doing great. I think we have a chance,” she says “ Just not a good one.”

The port wing starts to oscillate. The sweat starts to gather on his brow. He starts to wonder if he has any tricks up his sleeve. He goes through all the files and can’t find one about landing an ancient plane from outer space. So he is down to luck, and how well rivets were made 71 years ago.

He'll need a miracle. What he'll get is Jack.