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The landed seaplane was closer than the wooden vessel, so Jacques decided
to head towards that. Perhaps he could lend assistance. He saw no movement
at all from the aircraft at the moment, which was just riding the swells.
If he had
known his seaplanes, he would have recognised it as the Cessna 208
Caravan, a truly luxurious floatplane, capable of transporting up to nine
people in comfort. As he got closer, he noticed what appeared to be someone waving at him from the cockpit. He brought his motorboat parallel to one of the floats. The person who had waved to him introduced himself as the co-pilot. They had been flying to Bermuda when they had encountered the Black Void - though he didn't call it such - an experience which had knocked out the pilot and their four passengers. The co-pilot had somehow not been affected so was able to land. "Are we the guests of the Triangle, now?" he asked, trying to produce a smile but failing miserably. Jacques nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. Though I don't know if we'll ever be able to check out." The pilot slumped. "What am I to tell the passengers when - or if -" he corrected himself, "they wake?" Jacques stared him squarely in the eyes. "The truth," he said simply.
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11/27/2004 11:43:10 AM
Extending Enabled
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