by Rae Knightly
Hao clicked on the remote control and the screen went blank. When an image of the three alien pilots appeared, the audience exclaimed loudly. Hao almost had to shout to make himself heard. “The remains of these three beings were recovered from the crash site.” He stared seriously at the people seated before him. “As far as we know, you are looking at the first extraterrestrial visitors to Earth known to Humankind.”
It took much longer, this time, for the room to quiet down. Some faces were flushed with anger, others were pale and drawn, while some attendees flung a series of questions across the room. The High Inspector, Hao and Connelly waited for the excitement to die down.
“Please,” the High Inspector said. “We wish to present the facts to you before taking questions.” He invited Connelly to come forward. “This is Agent Theodore Connelly, a police officer from Chilliwack, currently working for the CSIS. He was the first officer on the site of the crash. He has studied the evidence and has come up with some disturbing conclusions.”
As if he were giving a lecture on some tedious subject matter, Connelly began, “Three ships. Three aliens.” He pointed to an image of the ships and their occupants. “We had assumed there was one alien per spacecraft. However, recent evidence shows this may not be so. As you can see, there is enough room inside the vessels for several more occupants. In vessel number one, which was the first to crash, we recovered DNA from the young alien man in this area of the ship.” Connelly indicated. “But we recently discovered a different, unknown DNA - here. He pointed next to the image of the young alien male, who had been placed virtually within the spacecraft.
The room went deathly quiet as the attendees digested this piece of news. One man wiped the sweat off his forehead with a cotton tissue.
The woman with graying hair and stark composure spoke the words they all were thinking. “Agent Connelly, are you telling us that we are missing an alien suspect? Possibly a live, alien suspect?”
For a second Connelly held his breath, then said clearly, “I am, Minister. One, or more than one, alien suspects, who could be halfway across the world by now.”
***
Inspector James Hao leant back in his office chair, a cold, wet towel pressed against his eyes. He heard his office door open and peeked under the towel to watch Connelly enter the room and throw a file on his desk. The bald man sat heavily in the chair opposite Hao.
“Do we have to do this now?” Hao grumbled, as he massaged his temples. “We just left the meeting!”
“We do,” Connelly confirmed matter-of-factly.
Hao sighed. “This had better be good, wonder boy.”
“It is. This is new evidence.”
“What?” Hao exclaimed, the towel falling from his eyes. “Already?”
“Our meeting attendees got more than they bargained for, so I opted to leave out this piece of information.”
Hao frowned in disapproval but said nothing as he opened the file. A photograph of four broken pieces of glass lay before him. “What’s this?”
“This evidence came from the crash site,” Connelly explained. “When you assemble these pieces, they form a lens. I believe it is from a telescope.”
Hao frowned, his interest piqued. “Telescope…telescope…” he mumbled. Then his eyes brightened and he got up to search through a box on the floor labelled WITNESSES. He went through several files before fishing one out. He flipped the file RYAN ARCHER on his desk. “Yeah,” he said slowly, as he scanned the notes inside. “This witness stated he was stargazing in a field near his house when The Cosmic Fall occurred. Must be from his telescope.” He shrugged as he closed the file. “Makes sense.”
“But it doesn’t,” Connelly corrected. He removed another picture from the file he had brought. This time it was a close-up of the lens. There were distinct fingerprints all over it. “I had these fingerprints analyzed,” he explained. “Most belong to the witness, Ryan Archer. But these smaller ones didn’t come up with a match.”
Hao sat up straight in his chair to analyze the information. Slowly, he said, “Are you telling me that we have a missing witness?”
Connelly nodded. “Ryan Archer wasn’t alone on the night of The Cosmic Fall.”
“…and he failed to mention it,” Hao finished, a million thoughts crossing his mind. “One missing alien. One missing witness,” he began slowly. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Get a team together and find out who was with Ryan Archer that night!”
He watched as Connelly picked up the file and stood with a smug smile. Just before turning to leave the office, Hao thought he saw the Agent’s eyes change from green to honey-brown. He raised an eyebrow, then shook his head. “Trick of the light,” he thought, as he placed the wet towel over his face again.
***
By the time Ben and Laura reached Highway 1 Eastbound, it was after five o’clock, which meant they were stuck in rush hour. Ben fell asleep as the sun set behind them in a myriad of yellow and orange streaks, while Laura navigated from one busy lane to another. They had travelled half the distance to Chilliwack when Ben woke up. He stared at the cloudy night, his mind wandering. A sudden thought crossed his mind.
“Mom?” he began, irritated by his own trembling voice. “Are we staying at Grampa’s house?”
Laura glanced at him. “If we can’t stay at the hospital, then yes, of course we’ll stay at the house.”
“Really?”
Laura sighed. “I can’t afford to go to a hotel, Ben, you know that. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. There’s more than enough room at Grampa’s house.” He shot her an angry glance, so she added, “It’s still our family home! What happened in the fields next to it doesn’t change that.”
Ben slumped back, scowling.
Laura’s eyes softened as she said more gently, “You love that house, Ben. You remember that, don’t you?”
He shrugged, saying nothing.
Yes, of course I remember. But that was before…
“You know, you’re going to have to talk to Grampa.” Laura interrupted his thoughts. Ben pretended to ignore her. She continued in a tender voice, “He’s in intensive care, honey. He had a pretty big heart attack; he couldn’t even remember his name. The nurse said the only thing they found on him was my cellphone number, which is how they got hold of me.” Her voice wavered. “The thing is, I’m not sure how long he’s got… You and he need to have a serious talk about what happened on the night you disappeared.” She paused for a moment. “I need to have serious talk with him.”
Ben turned to her, showing interest in the conversation for the first time. “Are you still angry with him?”
It was Laura’s turn to remain silent as she ran things over in her mind. “Grampa has always there for us when we’ve needed him. I was so proud of him for helping us out after your Dad died. Remember when I told Grampa you had the measles when you were four years old? He jumped on the first bus over! And every time a school break started, you couldn’t wait for me to drive you to Chilliwack! You were having so much fun with him over the summer holidays! I could tell from our phone calls!”
She broke off, then chose her words carefully. “But what happened on the night of The Cosmic Fall is beyond me! Why did Grampa abandon you? What were you doing miles away from the house? How did you get there? And where has Grampa been all this time? All I got from him was a single phone call in the early morning after The Cosmic Fall letting me know that he was fine but urging me to come and pick you up in Chilliwack. Since then, not a word to find out how you were doing, or to let us know where he’s been. If Tike hadn’t found me that day and led me to that tree you were lying under, who knows what could have happened!” She stopped herself as she shifted in her seat. “So, yes, I am still angry!”
Ben read his mother’s face like an open book.
Not to mention out-of-your-mind with worry!
Ben turned his attention to the starry sky, mulling over what she had said, wondering whether, he, too, was angry. But he found he
was having a hard time grasping the feelings he had for his grandfather. Although his memories with his Grampa were very good, his feelings for him tended to become entangled with the murky nightmare he kept having. And that was not something he wanted to linger on.
***
Over an hour and a half later, Ben followed his mother into the Chilliwack General Hospital with a heavy heart. He barely listened as a nurse explained that Ryan Archer was in a stable condition, and had been resting all afternoon in the Coronary Care Unit. However, he was not out of danger yet, she said. She also mentioned something about filling in some forms at the reception desk, as they were missing key information on their patient. But that could wait until later. First, she would take them to see Grampa.
Finally!
Ben saw Laura nod through the whole thing, though she seemed too shook up to reply.
When they entered Grampa’s room, Laura placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder to guide him to the hospital bed. Ben wasn’t sure it was a gesture of comfort, rather, he guessed she needed someone to lean on, just as much as he did. And he understood why, because as soon as he saw his beloved Grampa, he had to swallow a huge lump in his throat.
Grampa was barely recognizable, tucked away in a hospital bed under crisp white sheets, his face covered by an oxygen mask, his chest hooked up to an intravenous pump and a heart monitor, beeping at the rhythm of his heart. Ben’s vivid memory of a robust man, who stood tall as an oak, collided with the frail form that lay before him, and for an instant he thought they were facing the wrong patient. The old man’s fading ash-blonde hair was almost completely white, while an unkempt beard dotted his chin.
Grampa wouldn’t allow this!
Ben knew how much his Grampa railed against men who wore short stubbles, which, he declared, were neither clean shaven nor proper beards. Such laziness would not do, and he made a point to meticulously shave and comb his hair every morning. Ben held his breath as he remembered how his Grampa would affectionately attempt to paste down the lock of hair that always stuck out the back of his head.
Laura placed her hand on top of Grampa’s. Ben fought against his tears as he noticed the bones under the long, thin fingers.
“Daddy?” his mother whispered.
There was no response.
They stayed beside Grampa for several hours, both crying silently, yet neither able to express their sadness.
When another nurse came by to check on Grampa, she told them they were welcome to spend the night in the waiting room. Or if they preferred, they could go home and rest: the hospital would call them immediately if there was any change to Grampa’s condition.
Laura gave Ben a concerned glance. He took it he didn’t look too great-and he didn’t feel it, either.
“I’m going to fill in the forms at the reception desk, she said. “Why don’t you get us something from the cafeteria? Then we’ll head over to Grampa’s house.”
“But…” Ben objected.
“We can’t leave Tike outside the hospital all night, Ben. He’ll be safer at the house. There isn’t much we can do right now, anyway.” She spoke without much conviction.
Ben knew it was because she wanted to stay, but was deciding against it for his sake. Yet he was too exhausted to argue, and the idea of his four-legged friend waiting outside the hospital was enough to make him agree.
Ben scouted for something to eat. The cafeteria was closed, so he settled for two rather dry-looking cheese sandwiches from a vending machine. He wrinkled his nose, but fed the coins into the machine anyway.
After getting the nurse to promise again that she would call if Grampa’s situation changed, Laura and Ben headed to the house, which lay twenty minutes away on the outskirts of Chilliwack, surrounded by corn fields. It was almost two o’clock in the morning. The house loomed under a cloudy sky without a moon or star in sight.
Ben cowered in the car while his mother stood before the front door, illuminated by the headlights, searching for the keys in her handbag. She entered, switching on the corridor lights that splashed into the driveway. Ben reluctantly picked up their suitcases, dragging his feet until he was inside, as Tike followed closely with his ears back and his tail between his legs.
They headed straight upstairs to the two guest rooms they had always occupied when they had vacationed at the house. Laura checked on Ben to make sure there was a warm quilt on his bed.
“Do you think Grampa will be ok?” Ben whispered from under the covers.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she replied, before pecking his forehead to bid him goodnight. He could not read his mother’s face in the dim light.
Ben closed his eyes as soon as she was gone, but his grandfather’s face haunted him. He rolled around in bed and stared at the high ceiling. The room was a decent size. Grampa had painted the walls a soft blue after his grandson was born. Two large windows looked out over the fields. An old carpet, a sturdy bed next to a nightstand, a cupboard with three drawers displaying a couple of photographs of baby Ben and Grampa, a sofa and several shelves with wooden toys and books Ben had played with for as long as he could remember filled the familiar room.
Ben was about to close his eyes again when something caught his attention. He sat, suddenly alert. On a shelf on the opposite wall perched a sleek, white telescope. He had never seen it before. He got out of bed, pushed the sofa closer to the wall and clambered onto it before carefully removing the beautiful object. Ben was surprised to find that it still had the store tag attached to it.
It’s brand new!
As he hopped off the sofa, something clanked inside it. He unwound the lens, then tilted the telescope to release the item that had come loose.
A silver watch slipped into his lap, followed by a piece of paper.
Ben stared at the unexpected items, then unfolded the note. It read, “Dear Ben, I believe this jewel is yours. I found it under the kitchen sink. Remember me when you look at the stars. Love, Grampa.”
Ben stared at the note, then at the watch. At the centre of it there was a beautiful, glittering gem that might have been a diamond, though he didn’t think diamonds shone this much. He wondered if Grampa had had it placed in the watch on purpose. One thing was certain, he had no recollection of it.
He sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, sniffing and wiping his eyes with the back of his shirt as he stared at the items. When exhaustion gained on him, he let himself sink into bed. He covered his head with the bed sheets and fell into a deep sleep, the watch clasped tightly in his hand.
***
Tike was lying next to a sleeping Ben, when a movement caught the dog’s attention. He lifted his head, his ears upright.
A tall man with white, wavy hair stood in the bedroom beside one of the windows. Tike sniffed the air and stared at the strange man from a few feet away. Then the form turned his head, distracted by something happening outside.
Tike jumped off the bed and stood on his hind legs to peek out the other window. Deer had materialized onto the fields, their antlers rising proudly over the cold mist. They remained in front of the house for a long time.
Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, the white-haired man was gone again, leaving Tike staring curiously at the room.
***
In a bright, white office on the third floor of the Dugout, a CSIS fax machine clicked on, releasing a sheet of paper. A police report appeared bearing a picture of Ryan Archer’s face. A red, handwritten note read, “Location: Chilliwack General Hospital.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Tiwanaku
A tall man sat on the large steps of the Kalasasaya temple-an ancient monument that belonged to the ruins of Tiwanaku, a city built many centuries ago by pre-Inca people of South America. A cold breeze blew through the visitor’s white, wavy hair, as he gazed at a stunning sunrise over the dry Andes mountain range which crossed eastern Bolivia. Behind him towered an impressive door built of perfectly carved stones, leading to an open courtyard guarded by a ten-foot monolith
representing some forgotten deity.
In spite of his unusual hair, the man’s strong features belonged to someone in his mid-thirties. He wore a crimson poncho over his long-sleeved shirt, protecting him from the early morning temperature. Closing his honey-coloured eyes, he let the sun warm his olive-tanned face. He did not immediately turn to greet the old Aymara native who had walked up behind him. After enjoying his fill of high altitude sunlight, the visitor stood and joined the older man, who offered him a broad smile.
“Suma urukiya[1], Observer,” the old Aymara greeted.
The visitor’s eyes softened as he answered, “Buenos días[2], Amaru.”
“We have been waiting for you for a long time,” Amaru said, before noticing that the visitor’s attention had turned to the monolith placed centrally behind the gateway. Understanding his attraction to it, Amaru nodded. “It represents our shaman ancestor. A great shapeshifter. A rare skill, indeed, as you well know...” He trailed off.
They stared at it for a moment, before Amaru ventured, “You barely made it here alive. And yet I have been told that you wish to return to the crash site! Are you sure that is a wise decision?”
The visitor’s gaze was lost in the distance as he replied, “Last night I had a vision. A spirit portal called me back to the crash site. Only one of my own could have sent me such a powerful message. It has to be my daughter! I must return to find out if she is still alive!”
Amaru sized up the white-haired stranger, before sighing and reaching inside his poncho. He produced a dark blue Canadian passport which he presented to the tall man. The stranger flipped through the pages until he found the identity and photograph of the passport’s original owner. The name said Jack Anderson from Ottawa, Ontario. The face of a young man stared back at him with determination.