Jessica rolled over in bed. What a terrible nightmare! She'd
dreamed the Tristan had been hijacked and she'd teamed up with a weird priest to try and stop the nefarious terrorist plot.
Why is there sheet metal in my bed?
"Hello!" shouted the priest.
Jessica's bed started shaking. Then she realized it wasn't her bed at all. Then she realized that no one was steering the ship.
"Jessica! Please wake up! The helm, the helm!"
Jessica came to and leapt up. "I've got it! I've got it!" she screamed.
"Thank God!" the priest cried.
Jessica grabbed the controls and the shaking stopped. The ship righted itself and continued to fly smoothly.
"Well done, helmsman. Uh, helmswoman. Um, Jessica," the priest babbled.
"Where's the vampire, Father?" Jessica asked nervously.
"He was thrown out the access door when the ship started shaking. It was a miracle."
She knew he was lying, but there was too much to do right now to question him. She picked up the radio. "Rome Air Traffic Control, please respond. This is the Tristan, Albion Airline, flight 007."
"Tristan, what is the status of the hijacker? Are you okay?" the control tower responded instantly.
Jessica thought about the priest's lie. It was all she had to go on. "The hijacker was accidentally thrown from the aircraft. Request guidance from air traffic control. We have several casualties, including the pilots."
"Sorry Tristan, we can't provide a vector for flight! You need to take evasive action!"
"What?!" Jessica didn't understand what was going on.
The instruments indicated that they were about three or four hours from Rome.
"We are not authorized to continue transmission. Please just take evasive action! God be with you. Rome Tower, out."
"Hello? Hello?!"Jessica screamed.
"What's wrong?" Abel asked.
"The control tower stopped responding even though they know we don't have a pilot!"
The Tristan's beeping radar cut Jessica short. She shrugged her shoulders. "The radar must be broken. According to this, three objects are approaching at six hundred miles per hour. Even airplanes don't fly that fast."
Abel ran to the radar to see for himself. "Cut off the engine!"
"Eh?"
"Cut off the engine and drop altitude! Now!" he screamed.
Jessica didn't understand Abel's sudden expertise in piloting aircraft, but she did as he commanded. She cut the engine, and let out some of the helium from the balloon. The craft descended.
"More, more! Get us almost on the ground!" Abel shouted.
"I've already let out too much helium. What's going on? You're freaking out over a radar glitch."
"It's no glitch," he responded. Abel frantically looked back and forth between the map and the radar screen. "Missiles. The objects are missiles, a lost technology of the ancient civilization. The rumors about tests at Assisi were true."
Jessica didn't understand a word of what he was saying, so Abel continued to explain. "Missiles can track the heat trails of engines, even after they are turned off. We're trying to lose them by dipping low and cutting our exhaust. The missiles might hit the ground. That is, before we do."
"How is that possible?" Jessica asked in disbelief.
He wanted her to fly the Tristan low to dodge these missiles. He was asking her to put them in guaranteed danger to avoid possible danger. Jessica started to protest.
"Just get us lower to the ground. I have an idea," the priest said before darting off.
"Where are you going?" she asked after him.
The Tristan entered a thick fog that hovered just above a deep ravine. Jessica consulted the map carefully and steered the ship hard to starboard. A mountain suddenly came into view on the port side. Luckily, Jessica was savvy enough to avoid it and kept the ship in one piece.
One of the approaching objects fell off the radar, just as they dipped low. So, the priest wasn't crazy after all.
"Come on! We've still got some work to do!" Jessica yelled at the Tristan.
As if responding, the Tristan's huge body shivered and sped up. The ship swung past the treacherous terrain as if an ace pilot were at the helm. A whole regiment of guardian angels must have been looking after her.
"Good Lord," Jessica gasped.
The sub-bridge mirrors showed a ball of light approaching on the horizon just behind the Tristan. It was like a rocket-propelled snake, winding through the clouds.
"You won't beat me," Jessica declared.
She put her whole body weight on the wheel and spun it. She bit her lip so hard that it bled, then screamed, "I won't lose to that thing!"
The tips of the wings dipped low and scraped along the tree line, snapping off the tops of tall pines. The trees burst into flames as they fell. Luckily, the missile couldn't make the turn and crashed into the terrain.
But there was still one left.
"We're not going fast enough for another turn! I can't dodge the next one!"
"It's okay. Thanks for buying me time," came Abel's voice from over the intercom.
The missile was too close. It was going to hit them any second.
Just then, the rear hatch of the sub-bridge opened and the messenger aircraft dropped out of the back, its engines already running. It bobbed in the air, then spun to the side. The ignition fired, leaving a trail of burning jet fuel. The missile adjusted course, latching onto roaring engines even hotter than the Tristan.
Jessica gasped.
The explosion stole her breath. What did the priest do? Did he pilot that plane just to lure the missiles away? She stared at the remnants of the airborne explosion. "Oh no, Father! You did that just to save us." She wept; her tiny frame wracked with sobs.
Then she stopped suddenly. Remembering his words, she gripped the wheel firmly in her grasp. "I'll do my job; you've done yours." Her hot tears fell onto the console. "I never even gave him the sandwich," she realized.
"That's why I'm extremely hungry right now," he whispered.
Jessica turned to see the priest leaning against the console, holding his ribs.
"Father! You're alive?"
"It took a lot of energy to get that plane off and still jump out before the missile reached us. I really am hungry."
Jessica plowed into him, hugging him tightly. She buried her face into his chest and cried.
Abel fell backward, exhausted but happy. "Um, you're choking me, Jessica. And the ship is going to crash."
Like before, Jessica straightened up and chastely collected herself. She took the wheel, restarted the Tristan's engines, and gained altitude.
Abel put his hand on her shoulder and gently stroked her hair. "You did your job well."
"As you did yours, Father."
Abel's expression darkened. The Tristan was safe, but he had some unfinished business. He pulled the piece of balloon from his coat pocket. Somewhere on this ship, a father is looking for his son.
Reluctantly, Abel removed his hand from Jessica's shoulder. "Take care of flying the ship. I need to go check on the other passengers."
Jessica exchanged longing glances with him. Then she remembered that she was staring deeply into the eyes of a priest. She turned her head, embarrassed by her own thoughts.
Just then: BEEP BEEP BEEP!
The radar showed an unidentified object hurtling toward the Tristan.
"The third missile!" Jessica exclaimed. "It's back! We can't dodge it; we can't cut the engines at this angle!"
"Duck!" Abel yelled as he grabbed Jessica to him. They fell to the floor just as the missile detonated. It blew out the windows of the sub-bridge and sent shards of glass raining down all around them. The Tristan heaved to one side.