S D Falchetti [Falchetti - Hayden’s World Box Set 2

In a small kitchen in the 1970s, a small black-and-white television rested on a counter. Silver rabbit-ears stretched up from it, and often I pinched them between forefinger and thumb, becoming part of the antenna to clear up zig-zagging static. On the screen, Shatners voice announced that space was the final frontier. Id sit there, transfixed, watching the Enterprise swish across the galaxy.

The 70s was an interesting decade to be a boy. Wed just put men on the moon in 1969. Big-budget sci-fi cinema ran with this momentum: Star Wars (1977), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979), and Alien (1979), to name a few. I remember seeing other children with Close Encounters lunchboxes, the alien mothership raised in the lids stamped metal, all of its glowing masts like radio towers over mountains. I had a plastic model of a Klingon cruiser Id glued together and painted. The Enterprise kept an eye on it from a string in my bedroom.

What I appreciate about stories from this time is the theme of adventure. Kirk gets a bloody lip and torn shirt decking the bad guys on a fantastic world while the crew of the Nostromo encounters an alien which they dont fully understand. Its a throwback to the pulpy fiction of the fifties and sixties. Weve all seen those retro book covers and posters hand-painted space ships streaking against spattered stars. You could imagine an entire story just looking at them.

So, when I set out to write the Haydens World stories, it was on a foundation of sci-fi serials watched on a tiny black-and-white tv. Its stories about visionary captains and brave crews going to fantastic places no one has yet seen. The first few stories were meant to be bingeable short reads the type you might read in bed before drifting off to sleep. As the crews missions have become bigger, the cast growing with it, the stories have matured into full-fledged novellas and novels. Because of it, Haydens World: Volume 2 is a bit different than Volume 1, containing only two long stories: Janus 2 and Bernards Promise. Theyre the perfect two to pair together, however, because James Haydens dream finally becomes reality.

Thanks for coming along on another interstellar adventure with me, and, as always, keep dreaming big.

L ate-day sun drenches asphalt as the motorcycle winds along the coastal highway. James banks right and the sky leans left. Kates arms encircle his waist, her chest rising and falling with each breath. To their left, the Pacific is a tapestry of shining diamonds with a single sailboat silhouetted against a goldenrod horizon. They watch the boat bob against the waves for a moment before James rotates the throttle, the motorcycles engine whining, veering them off the highway onto a dust-soaked road.

A little off-roading? Kate asks over her helmet mic.

James glances back over his shoulder. I want to show you something.

The landscape flattens as the bike clears the crest. Two buildings stand to the right, the first a long-abandoned convenience store with sand-blasted lettering. Dirty windows show hints of counters and chairs inside. The second is a twenty-meter rectangle with a girder roof and two huge sliding white doors. Parallel one-kilometer roads run in front of the buildings, the closest overgrown with dirt and grass, and the furthest paved and clear with white dashed lines and huge block numbers reading 30. James pulls the bike beside the sliding white doors.

Kate removes her helmet and runs her fingers through her blonde hair. A silver ring dangles on a chain from her neck. Shes eighteen, same age as James. Why do I get the feeling were trespassing?

James grins and waves a hand. No worries. I got permission from the owner.

She arches an eyebrow. You asked permission for something?

He motions to the door and walks over towards the handle. Dont you want to see whats inside?

Her eyes dart to the structure. Okay, now Im curious.

James anchors himself and tugs with both hands. As the sunlight spills into the hangar, the white wings and black propeller appear. Gold glares from chrome accents on the nose and the livery is marine blue with brick-red stripes stenciled with N147CP.

Woah, Kate says. Will you look at that? She walks over and runs her hand along the airplanes cowl. Its a classic. Did youdid you buy it?

James nods. Found it in a salvage yard. Bought what was left, pieced it back together. Purrs like a kitten.

Whats it run on?

Good old gasoline. Nineteen-ninety-two Piper Arrow Three. They only built six that year. He moves to the passenger-side. A foot-step juts out from the fuselage and the wing has a black non-slip surface next to the door. James leans over, opens the door, and steps up. He extends his hand and Kate accepts. They slip into the cockpit and settle into their seats. What do you think? James says.

She sets her hands on the yoke and turns it slightly. He points over her shoulder at the right wing and she watches the aileron move up and down. Oh, this is awesome. I love it.

James flicks the red battery switch on. Indicator lights illuminate. Would you latch that door?

She pauses a moment, a smile creeping across her face, and pulls the door closed. Without saying a word she slides the seatbelt across herself. Where are we going?

He hands her a headset and motions towards the planes nose. Rich blue sky awaits. You know, that-a-way, just higher, he says over his mic. When he flips the beacon switch, red light spins in the hangar. Leaning towards the window, he says, Clear prop!

The propeller sputters to life when he turns the starter. He adjusts the throttle and turns on the avionics and navigation lights.

Kate taps the Garmin in front of her. The individual pixels of the airplane stick figure are visible. Oh, wow, look at this navcon. Thats.is that even a computer?

James taps the power button off. We dont need it. Guys flew for half-a-century with nothing but eyeballs and radios.

You sure this is safe?

Safe as anything else in life. Wanna go?

She eyes the crystal sky and glances back. Yeah. A little different than your dads planes, huh?

James snorts. Youre just along for the ride in those. This He turns the yoke. this is real. He clicks the thumb button. Fairway Cove Traffic, Piper one four seven charlie papa at east hangar taxiing to runway three zero.

Kate quirks her head. Who are you talking to?

Whoevers out there. Maybe theres another James and Kate puttering around in a seventy-year old plane. Gotta do it right.

She sets her hand on his. I think the universe can only handle one James Hayden.

He winks at her and edges the throttle forward. Well, Im lucky this one found his Kate.

* * *

James at forty-one doesnt look much different than he did at eighteen, one of the fortunate blessed with a baby face and sandy hair hiding any hint of gray. He taps the Sandpipers controls and watches Earths blue marble spin away. As the star field pans, Hayden-Pratts MEO2 shipyard swings into view, a brightly-lit lattice cradling a sixty-two meter wedge. Gold interior light glows from the wedges cockpit and spotlights illuminate patches of the fuselage. Black registry letters read HP-G01 Gossamer Goose. In the ships aft, robotic arms spin hull plates into place.

Ananke is beside James, her slate affixed to the dash. Blue ripples spill across her screen. I remember the first time I saw