An Alien Rescue (7 page)

“That’s fantastic.” His eyes were aflame with surprise. His mind was opening up to the thought there might be lots more of this kind of magic to come and couldn’t wait to see more. However, as always, there was that faint memory still lingering in the background of his overloaded mind. He suspected this knowledge was already there but wasn’t quite reachable… yet; or was it? There was the small metal container he discovered in one of the motorcycle panniers from the previous year’s trip and was mystified as to how it came to be in his possession. It contained gritty black dust that enjoyed sticking to his skin and under his fingernails. The mysterious box had lain undisturbed for the best part of a year since he’d placed it high up on a shelf in his garage out of harm's way. He sometimes wondered about it though.

He interrupted Belinda as she was about to speak again. “I think I may already have some of this metal back home.”

Belinda paused as she heard his comment, but didn’t acknowledge his words. There should be no reason why Scott should have a sample of this metal at his home, she considered, especially as the element wasn’t available in his solar system. He could not possibly have any… Or could he?

“It’s really light and looks like the metal this ship is made of,” he added. “It’s a small container full of black dust.”

Could Frell have given Scott a container made from this metal? Belinda puzzled herself with the question. Might Frell have allowed him to take a sample of his planet’s lunar satellite back to Earth with him? She tried not to think of it, especially as it would have broken one of the
Council’s strictest rules to do so. The doubt was there though. They
had
been to the moon and she knew Frell was in love with Scott. Moondust was black and how better to let him take some home with him.

“Phew,” she relented. “I think your little container is a secret between you and Frell only,” she suggested quietly, almost as if her comment might be overhead. “I think you should keep this information to yourself and not disclose it to anyone else.”

“OK,” he readily agreed.
Whoops
, he thought to himself. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. He also felt a little excited knowing he might own a little bit of flying saucer metal and began to formulate a simple experiment to test this revelation when he returned home, should he be allowed to remember all he had just heard.
A simple battery with a couple of wires should do it,
he figured.

“What’s the black dust then?” he wondered out loud.

“It’s probably dust from your moon, which is very black on the surface.”

He almost jumped with joy. “Holy smoke, I’ve got my own Moondust! I’ve got some bits of the moon in my garage. Hey-hey and bloody-hell. Fan-friggen-tastic! I’ll definitely try and remember all of this.”

Belinda was a little concerned. Should all this information get into the wrong hands, the evidence for extraterrestrial life and intervention would be readily at hand, and many secrets would be available. She knew she had to change the subject - and very quickly.

Taking him by the hand once again, she gave him a not-so gentle tug to distract his thoughts. “Follow me,” she commanded.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to have the metal box or the dust, so decided not to raise the subject again, unless prompted to do so.

She led Scott to a slightly raised platform, directly below an opening in the roof.

“This looks like an elevator. Is it?” he asked inquisitively, even though he already knew what the reply would be. Everything he was seeing he felt he already knew; it just needed to be shown and explained to him again.

“Yes, it is an elevator, as you call it. It will take us up to the Control Deck.”

“The name, Drang, means something to me,” said Scott. “As soon as you said Control Deck, the word entered my head. You mentioned the word, Drang, earlier. Why?” he asked.

“Drang is the name of the pilot who coordinated the ship you were on with Frell.”

“Erm, does that mean there’s a pilot on this ship too?” he asked wondering if there was another person on board.

“Yes, there is another. You will meet her in a moment.”

Scott’s stood open-mouthed. A,
her,
meant another woman, and,
she,
was a pilot. He was impressed. Female pilots were a recent innovation in the Royal Air Force and he thought the idea was brilliant. There were plenty of excellent female drivers back home too, where he would often see a woman handling her car with the enough grace and style befitting that of an expert. He’d sometimes wondered if they could pilot an aircraft as well as they drove. He enjoyed seeing women in technical jobs, employment where male chauvinists firmly believed only men could manage. Scott could never stifle a grin when he chanced upon any woman in one of these occupations, feeling pleased for them and their against-convention efforts. He could never bring himself to tell them how pleased he was to see them doing what they had chosen for an occupation as it would have sounded patronising to the extreme, possibly as if he was just trying to get into their pants. He never fancied a slap across the face either! There were many girls serving in the RAF, many doing jobs that some chaps thought they shouldn’t be. He always gave them positive encouragement and corrected any misgivings slighted by some ignorant male colleagues.

“Please stand very close to me and keep your arms close by your sides?”

Scott practically stood with his body pressed against hers as he took hold of one of her hands. Once again, he felt how soft and warm it was, enjoying the sensation as a comforting feeling entered him. She was so pleased he had done this and felt surprised. She could hear his breathing while he stood alongside her and felt the warmth of his breath on her neck; such was the closeness of their bodies. She released another sigh, but much shallower than previously.

Without any other movement by Belinda, they began to rise. Upwards they travelled, through the ceiling’s aperture. He thought it could have done with being a bit faster but it served the purpose, he supposed.

They entered the ship’s Control Deck, stepping off the platform. With a suddenness, which took Belinda by surprise, Scott exclaimed loudly, “Oh my God, I remember this. I have been here before!” He turned to face her, saying, “I really do remember all this, and it’s how I imagined it would be.” He released his hand from Belinda’s and took a step forwards.

“I remember it all, all of it, including Frell. It feels like I’ve just wakened from the strangest dream or the craziest of sleeps; a feeling of being blind for so long but now I can see again.”

“Oh, Scott,” she said with genuine feeling in her voice. “This can’t be easy for you, to suddenly remember.”

“You’re bloody damned right it isn’t, it scares me to half-to-death just thinking about it. To be confronted with everything you’ve told me then to realise it’s all perfectly true is as mind-blowing as it comes. I suspected it was just a dream within my mind, a sort of escapism I suppose. I always thought there was more to it. A lesser man would breakdown and possibly crack-up after what I’ve been told; but me, I’m the sort that can handle the pressure,” he joked.

Belinda turned to look Scott in the face, looking beyond his blue eyes and joking expression. She knew it took a strong type of human to accept what was happening, to control their emotions while understanding the situation. She also recognised that Frell had broken the Council’s strict rules by leaving a certain amount of memory within his subconsciousness - if not all of it. How much of the experience they shared was left within him was presently unknown, but in time, she and others would find out. Frell had breached the current regulations concerning contact between their kind and humans from Earth, and she wondered why? What reason had persuaded her to leave him with the memory? “Hmm,” she hummed a thought.

Belinda took hold of Scott’s hands and gave them another squeeze, saying, “Frell needs your help; and her pilot too. They are in desperate trouble.”

Knowing there really is a woman called Frell, and a pilot named Drang, he listened intently without asking questions. He would ask when it seemed appropriate, but this wasn’t the time. Not yet anyway!

His whole persona had just taken on a new meaning. His body straightened upright with legs slightly apart and his eyes squinting in concentration as he listened. His erect figure looked very
military as he removed his hands from hers and placed them behind his back, clenched tightly. He was standing at ease while waiting for his briefing. If his dreams were indeed reality and the six-foot beauty actually existed, then she was definitely worth fighting for, especially if they were lovers.
Hell
, he added to his thoughts,
she was worth dying for
!

“Tell me everything,” he commanded. “And I mean absolutely everything.”

She was again taken by surprise. Belinda had seen Scott as a legendry lover and had fantasised his presence while she slept. The stories of his sexual exploits with Frell had made him desirable to many, but especially to her as she had previously met him and was able to envisage the love scene better than most. She was aware the males and the females of their small population were trying to re-enact the sensations many had felt on board the Mothership, but never spoke of it in open conversation. It had become known as, Scott’s Time and many wanted to experience it. Now, though, she saw him as a warrior as well as a great lover. A sensual man who was capable of waging war on a foe who had stolen his lover.
I think this is called romance
, she thought,
and a great romantic battle is about to take place
.

She began her explanation of Frell and Drang’s unaccountable disappearance, intending to tell him absolutely everything, as demanded.

“They were posted as missing one of your Earth years ago. We know
your
return was a success, you are the living evidence for that part of the mission, but Frell’s craft never returned to the Mothership. There has never been any other contact with her or Drang from the moment you were deposited back on Earth.”

He listened carefully, trying to link what he remembered to what he was hearing.

“How did you know I had been returned? I’m aware I’m standing in front of you, but how did you know I was back on Earth?” He was wizening to the implications there were might be methods of tracking him and wondered what they might be.

Oh dear
, she thought. It had crossed her mind it might occur to him there were methods of knowing where he was and the troubled possibility he might ask.

With a slight hesitation in her voice, and a hint of visual nervousness shown by her blinking eyes and her unsteady body language, she began her explanation. “There is an implant within your brain.” She had said it quietly, but with caution. She was unsure how he would react. It had been known for other humans to be told the same with them going quite mad at the news, eventually taking their own life. Some people can handle the information and accept it without too much fuss, whereupon others… just couldn’t.

“When was it inserted?” he asked with a very large measure of uncertainty as to whether he really wanted to know.

“When you were young, during the time you were initially picked-up and tested for potential gene viability. It’s a simple process and doesn’t interfere with your normal functions.”

This reply gave him a lot to think about, things he had never considered before. “How were you able to know when I would be on the Isle of Skye? I mean to say, it seems you were already in position to pick me up. Come to think of it, you
were
ready to pick me up!.
You were here waiting for me!”

Belinda’s orders included the knowledge that this amount of realisation might happen as circumstances began to unfold and she should be as truthful, open and as honest as possible.
There was to be no hiding any details, for if truths were to be hidden or twisted and he found out he would never trust their kind again and an extremely valuable donor would be lost forever.

“The implant can be used to exert small influences upon you too. For instance, the feeling you wanted to return to the Isle of Skye was influenced. We couldn’t initiate when you would go, just the need. You would work out the time to visit and we would ensure a collection would be on standby. We’ve tracked you for all your adult life.”

“You’re kidding me, aren’t you? You’ve gotta be telling me porky-pies!”

Belinda’s mouth dropped open with a gasp. Porky-pies? What was Scott saying? Had his mind finally given up and started to shut down with gibberish for language? Was he undergoing some kind of mental seizure? Was she now facing a man whose mental grasp on the current situation had deteriorated into the uttering of strange words and nonsensical meanings?

“You’re telling me,” Scott continued – a little bit louder, “that I’ve been followed, or tracked, as you termed it, for most of my life? Huh? You’re making me feel like I’m some kind of remote-control toy.”

“Scott,” Belinda replied with feeling, “you’re an extremely valuable asset to my kind, someone we need rather badly. We have never manipulated you or your decisions to such an extent where you would do anything you did not wish to, but we have been aware of your position on your planet, wherever you were.