Miriam faced the woman without fear. As long as the woman remained seated, she was harmless. She took a deep breath and focused. I must remember everything! Miriam took a step away from her boss. She gazed at the seated woman, taking her in.
She could be human. She looked human. The woman had long, red hair that ran halfway down her back. It flowed behind her partially obscuring the tubes and wires connected along her back and neck. From an angle Miriam saw the woman didn’t sit all the way in the back of the chair. A metal brace of some kind came from the chair and went to the center of her head. Another brace was in her lower back. The woman was immobile.
Miriam relaxed. The woman couldn’t rise from the contraption if she wanted to. It was as though she were seated or strapped in something that resembled an electric chair. With that fact in hand, Miriam gave the woman another glance. It was a human face. Gray eyes, eyebrows, thin nose and lips, and prominent chin. Her neck was soft and a steady pulse came from the side. Miriam moved back to the face to search it once more. She saw small diamond earrings.
Miriam gulped.
Moving down passed her neck to her chest revealed alien fabric. Maybe she wasn’t human after all. The fabric stretched from shoulders to knees and looked thin, translucent. It moved. No way was Miriam about to touch it. She would write that it was a thin material of foreign origin and leave it at that. Curiosity made her look at the woman’s body. She told herself she needed the information for her report, she didn’t. She was curious. The woman had well-developed breasts and the outline of female genitalia in the lower regions.
From millions of miles away, yet they developed as we have. Maybe we are related.
Next, her eyes wondered to the woman’s legs and then her feet. For some reason, Miriam found herself wondering what kind of shoes the woman wore. She would not get the answer to that question; a container hid the woman’s feet. The container looked metal, but she knew it wasn’t. The foreign material would have to be studied by experts. For her report, she would write the woman’s feet were in a metal container and leave it at that. As for the shoe question, that question would have to go unanswered.
To her surprise, Miriam had somehow moved so close to the woman she could touch her. Yet, she didn’t recall how she got there and the woman never looked at her. Had her curiosity taken her that close? She slowly backed away from the woman to stand nearer to the President.
President Connors remembered his office and his duty. He approached the seated woman. The woman’s unnerving eyes followed him. He took a step back. Miriam stayed at his side in an effort to offer him strength and gain strength from him. Miriam met the cold eyes and kept eye contact. She felt her boss was doing the same. Maybe they could stare the woman down together and gain an advantage. She steeled herself for the mission. Inside she winced under the heavy gaze, but outside she showed her metal.
“Are you Norman?” Connors asked.
“I am Norman,” said the woman.
“You are not the voice on the phone?”
She repeated, “I am Norman.”
“Perhaps, Mr. President,” said Miriam in a quiet voice. “Perhaps we should accept that and move on.”
“Well said, Miriam,” said the President. “I am here. What do you want of me?”
The woman’s voice had a slight metallic edge to it as she spoke. “I am from the system you refer to as Sombrero galaxy in the constellation Virgo. We call our home planet Isdale.”
“Okay,” said the President. He kept looking at the woman and then posed a question. “Is this your form? Are your people human, like us?”
“Our bodies are greater in shape and design.”
Miriam’s heart thumped. “How do you know what our body design is?” She hated she interrupted, but the question leaped out of her mouth before she could stop it.
Norman was silent. Could it be true? Miriam and her boss looked at each other and she was sure of the rage on his face. How barbaric were these aliens? Her rage grew with his.
“Have you been ex-experimenting on my people?” asked President Connors. His fingers closed into fists as he strained to get the words out through gritted teeth.
More silence.
“Have you been experimenting on the people of this planet?”
“You are the only sentient life-form we have encountered. We wish to meet you. Communication is necessary for that goal.” The words flowed with no hint of deception or malice.
“That’s a yes then,” said the President, his face showing scorn. “You have violated the people of this planet. What race, what intelligent being would violate those they came to communicate with? How dare you perform experiments on my people! How dare you—”
A bright light came from the seated woman. A low hum followed, then a strong circling wind. It caught him off guard and cut his thoughts midsentence. The light spread out and forced a retreat to the far wall. President Connors and Miriam pressed themselves into the wall, determined to push themselves to the other side as the light came toward them.
“Please! Please!”
Miriam’s plea stopped the light. It stopped moving while they cowered and clung to each other, afraid for their lives. The light faded and the wind died. To their right, the metal wall shimmered. It turned from solid to the liquid metal they had come accustomed to seeing. A light shone from the wall. They saw another room beyond the now transparent wall.
A figure stood at the wall, gazing at them. It was tall, nearly seven feet with two arms and two legs like a man. Three long slender digits were on each stump of a hand. The body was light gray or green and wrinkly, no, those weren’t wrinkles, she thought, veins. Yes, they were veins. Just last week Miriam had spider veins removed from the back of her left leg and these resembled those veins. Miriam pressed in closer to the only man present, hoping for his protection. Her heartbeat was loud, intertwined with his. Connors held Miriam tighter. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled with electricity of fear. She thought of home and her family and wondered if these were her last moments.
“Mr. President, I-I-I—” Miriam wanted to say she was proud of him and if they died she was glad he stood up for human rights. The words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. She stared dumbfounded at the alien.
The figure lifted an arm and pointed a long finger at their opposite wall. The slim finger ended in a knob. President Connors turned back to Norman’s wall. Light shone down on the wall. Norman looked at them with a face nearly human. Miriam looked back at the wall with the alien, he was gone and the wall was solid once more.
“My apologies,” said Connors to Norman. “I meant no offense.”
Tension rose in Norman. Miriam watched the woman’s mouth twitch then tremble as if trying to fight to move. Her lips became something of a smile with the ends quivering. The gray eyes changed with the face and were now blue.
“I-am Nor-man,” said the woman, with a return to the accented robotic voice.
“Yes?”
“The real Nor-man.” The eyes fluttered for a minute and then opened full blue. “I am Norman,” this time her words were smooth and perfect English with a hint of an accent. “I am from this planet. Found by Isdale. Through me, you will communicate.”
Shackles unbuckled with a strange sound. Norman lifted a hand they thought could not move and pointed to the solid wall the alien stood behind.
“We need a barrier between your people and mine until an appropriate remedy comes to pass. You will communicate through me until that time.”
“Remedy? Explain this need for a remedy.” President Connors was back to being strong again.
“Our people are incompatible. You contain diseases that may harm us.”
“We? We can harm you?”
Norman raised an arm and directed them to their left. The wall became transparent and there they saw two bodies lying on the floor.
“Oh my God!” Miriam gasped.
She turned her head from the gruesome scene. She couldn’t look on it. Yet, s
he had to record even this. Slowly her head swiveled back to the wall. It was like watching a train wreck, she couldn’t help but to take it all in.
Little machines moved on wheels around two bodies. The machines prodded them with metallic attachments. The two bodies were corpses. The first was roughly seven feet with the arms and legs of the previous alien. It was one of them. The second corpse was small with human sized limbs, presumably a man. Both had puss-filled boils and charred skin. Both beheaded. Near them she saw bits of charred flesh and wondered which of them the pieces belonged to.
“Norman,” said the seated female. She pointed at the human body. The body lay on its back.
Miriam winced. “My God!”
“What happened to that man?” asked Connors.
“Incompatibility. If we expose ourselves to you openly, this is the result for both our people. I have searched my mind and this has occurred in our history long ago.”
“Your history?” asked Connors.
“Ours, Mr. President. She means ours.” Miriam paid attention to the woman’s chaotic speech and knew she was correct. She braved a question. “Is-Is that right?”
“Yes,” said Norman.
Connors took a step closer to the seated woman. “The plague?”
“Yes.”
“And the bodies? Why are they not destroyed for safety’s sake?”
“They are isolated and used as research. A cure will come in time. Until then, I will interface with you in this form.”
“What is it exactly that we need to interface about?”
“An exchange of information. We will study your people and send others back to tell of your existence. We will then continue to the next system and continue our search for sentient life-forms.”
Miriam smiled after hearing that news. “You’re on a quest or a trek, like Star Trek.”
Norman’s eyes moved rapidly from side to side. They stopped and fixed on Miriam. “Seek out new life and new civilizations. Boldly go where no man has gone before.” More rapid eye movements followed. “Yes, a trek. A non-hostile trek to seek sentient life-forms.”
“Well, you came to the wrong planet for that.” Miriam gave a nervous chuckle.
Connors smiled at her. His smile said ‘be quiet.’ He smoothed his suit and took a step forward. “I am the highest authority of my people. Am I speaking with the leader of your people?”
Norman’s blue eyes returned to Connors. The blue dulled as if overtaken by gray. “I am Norman. Consider me your leader.”
“My leader?” Connors puffed up.
“Correction, the leader. To begin, we wish no communication with the outside world. We will gather information and leave your world without interfering. We will follow your Prime Directive.”
Miriam lowered her head to hide her smile. Suddenly, they were not fearsome aliens. We may yet survive.
Chapter Twelve: Reilly
Vice President Reilly watched a monitor from an undisclosed location. He sipped his favorite tea with extended pinky while keeping his eyes trained on the screen. He watched with anticipation as he saw a helicopter descend to the mountain, drop off its two travelers, and ascend again.
He smiled.
Soon, he would have his greatest desire. The cover story was in place, complete with photographs of suspected terrorist cell members. The plan held no flaws. He went over the sequence of events once more. It would be a three-part plan: first, President Connors goes into the cave with his fake aliens. Second, his assault team levels the mountain. Third, with a sympathetic tear on his cheek, he goes on the air to announce the President has been a victim of a terrorist attack. Of course, his wife and two young sons would remain in the White House, for show. Later, he would kick them out and send them to the god-awful Number One Observatory Circle, three miles into oblivion.
From a hidden surveillance camera he saw President Connors and Miriam moving to the platform. He scowled as he thought of how many times Miriam had put him on hold— him— the Vice President of the United States of America. The scowl faded and a murderous smile filled his plump lips. Justice, he thought. High time she paid for her arrogance. If he could only see her treacherous face at the final moment. To listen to the screams and watch her writhe in pain. Would she burn or suffer a smothering under tons of rock? It didn’t matter, he would beat another opponent as he had done so many times in the past.
Reilly’s thoughts shifted back to the President and his nose flared. The crooked nose scrunched into massive cheeks and offset his beady eyes. He should have been President from the start. He had the record, the finances, and the power base. If only it wasn’t a popularity contest, dictated by the whims of idiots. He would have won the primary and not resorted to blackmail and schemes to get on the ticket. But that meant nothing now. Reilly had searched daily for a way to oust Connors and take over and these creative terrorists gave him the perfect opportunity. He would not let it pass. Seize the moment, his father always said. He would.
On a round coffee table next to his big chair sat a radio. He picked it up and watched the screen with delight. President Connors and Miriam rose on the platform and disappeared. This is it! He leaned forward and checked his wristwatch. He checked the big wall clock for confirmation and salivated at the opportunity before him.
The Vice President waited and constantly checked the wall clock and his wristwatch. He couldn’t wait another minute and activated his radio.
“Black Pawn, over.”
“Black Pawn,” echoed the radio.
“You have a go, Black Pawn. Go!”
“Sir?”
“Don’t sir me. Strike, damn it, strike! Fire at the cave’s entrance.”
“Sir, they have only been inside for forty-five minutes. They have an hour to exit.”
“Fa—!”
Reilly shook the radio in his hand, wanting it to be Fanmer’s puny neck. He almost said the man’s name. What a disaster that would be down the road. Reilly’s pudgy feet found the floor and he wrestled himself from the grip of the chair to stand. His face was red and nervous excitement ran through him.
“Sir, that is murder. I told them they had an hour. You agreed to an hour, sir.”
“You don’t argue with me, I’m holding all the cards here. I’ve got you by the balls and damn well plan to squeeze.”
“My source is not in his cabin. I told him and the others an hour like you said. It will take time to track them down.”
Reilly had heard enough and his plans would be delayed no longer.
“Black Pawn,” he said calmly. He gripped the radio tightly and spoke as clearly as he could. “You have orders to launch this second. If I don’t see what I expect to see in the next minute, I am going to skin you alive. You hear me, Pawn? Alive!” He hissed the last word to bring a chill to Fanmer’s soul.
“Yes, sir.” The response came low, but audible.
“Good.”
The screen held the same picture as before. Nothing was happening. All Reilly could see was the opening to the cave and the platform beside it. He moved in front of the screen, determined not to miss a second of his victory. Fanmer will not fail. He will not fail me.
Chapter Thirteen: Connors
President Connors faced Norman with a slew of questions. The President pondered the idea of peaceful aliens wanting nothing except for the exchange of information. It was a lovely thought, but never had he seen such a scenario in the thousands of alien-based movies he watched over his fifty years of life. What can they hope to gain with such a lie?
Norman was quite an attractive woman. The long, red hair and human features reminded him of an old flame from his high school days. I wonder?
“Norman?”
Miriam had moved to the side to study the connections to the chair without getting closer. Norman watched her with a slight shift of her head. She turned her dark gray eyes toward the speaker. “President Connors?”
“Norman, you are one hundred percent human, is that correct?”
“You are . . . how did you say it, ‘Interfacing through this woman?’”
“I am Norman, I am you, we are Norman.”
Connors ran a hand through his graying hair. It made sense to him now. The woman must be human. The aliens were tall and thin and gray. “Tell me about the beheaded man.”
Norman fell silent.
Connors studied her nonresponse. He needed a new tactic. “To begin our communication, honesty and trust must be established. This body knows those things. Search it and confirm I have not lied.”
Norman’s eyes moved rapidly from side to side. They stopped and centered on Connors. They closed. Seconds later they opened to a softer blue-gray combination. “He is Norman.” Her voice matched her eyes, softer and more feminine.
“He touched one of you and the result was death.” He framed it as more of an accusation than a question. Go on the offense and keep them guessing, a strategy that paid off numerous times in the past.
“No.” Her simple, straightforward response.
Connors pointed at the metal wall to his right. Indignation spread over his face. He felt ten feet taller in his righteousness. “More or less, that man died as a result of his encounter with your species. Yet, you say you are peaceful and mean us no harm.”
It worked. The eyes softened and bluer shone through. Now, the hammer.
“I submit to you that your very presence harms us.”
“That is true, Mr. President.” Norman spoke with a pure feminine voice. The voice of the original fellow human being, he thought. She waved her hand and the wall to their right changed. It showed a picture of their alien laboratory. A human body lay on a metal table covered by a white sheet under floodlights. The small machines they saw earlier were present, performing delicate operations around the man’s head, arms, and legs. Others hovered in the air above the body.
Connors moved closer to the wall. The man had tattoos on his upper right arm at the shoulder, a sickle and a hammer. Below that he saw a band of barbed wire. It was definitely the charred man he saw earlier. He had to know. He moved closer, nearly touching the wall.
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