As for our appearance, through the years, humans experimented with human gene splicing. Genetic manipulation has caused humans to evolve to our current appearance. Your descendants are what you think are aliens.
Well, I’ll be darned, I thought. Now don’t that beat all. Who would have ever imagined that scenario?
This puzzle was starting to come together. You got to admit, there is some sense to it. But, don’t get the wrong idea here. I still was not falling for all this science fiction crap. I figured I might as well keep playing along, though, and see where it led.
Ok, if you are who you say you are, besides my help with the communications device, what else could you possibly want with me? I asked.
We require your assistance in a dire situation which concerns your brother.
Ah haw! My brother! Now why am I not surprised at that? I should have known he would have something to do with all this.
If you recall, my brother and I didn’t really get to know one another until after I got out of the Navy. That’s when we started running around together. I saw him step in a lot of shit, but some way, he always came out smelling like a rose.
Now I wondered what shit he had stepped into this time. I worried that maybe his luck had expired and he might now be in dire straits. But then again, how in the hell did he get involved with Monroe and the future?
The last I knew, he was doing quite well in Saudi Arabia, I reminded Monroe, hoping that Fiza’s brothers hadn’t taken their anger of me out on him.
I am not referring to your biological brother Mike. I am referring to your other brother. He is called Tom-Tom.
My other brother? Called Tom-Tom? I asked, playing along with this charade.
I knew it! The milkman must be involved after all. He seemed to be always coming around when Dad wasn’t home. If not the milkman, the only other explanation that I could think would be that this was a stunt for that new popular TV show, Candid Camera. So where was the camera?
He is your clone, Monroe said. That is why he is referred as a brother.
“That’s it,” I said, throwing up my hands. “I’ve heard enough. I’m out of here.”
As I turned to leave, however, the two NASA officials blocked my way. “You might want to stick around and hear him out,” one strongly suggested.
It seemed that I had no choice but to heed his advice.
This is so frickin nuts, I thought.
Do you require nutrition? I heard from Monroe.
Now why would he ask that? No, I do not require nutrition.
I do require some common sense that would make good sense. A good yoga class might come in handy right about now.
Okay, just in case I’m not understanding you, I finally said. You’re saying that I have a cloned brother, whom you call Tom-Tom. Is this correct?
That is correct. We used your DNA and cloned you, Monroe explained. He has now matured to your exact age and is an exact replica of you.
The abductions and Monroe, my greatest of all grandkids, had started to sink in, but now a cloned brother? An exact replica? Reality is getting a little farfetched, don’t you think?
Come on, man. That might be reaching for the stars a bit, don’t you think? Last time I checked, it wasn’t April Fool’s day or Halloween. All this has got to be some kind of a joke, I thought, knowing it was all likely to be true.
It is no joke, it is not April Fool’s day, and I am certainly not wearing a Halloween costume,” Monroe replied, with a bit of irritation in his thought.
I kept forgetting that he could hear my thoughts. I realized that I probably needed to exercise a little more caution because I sensed that he might be getting a little frustrated with me.
Let us return to the subject, Tom. Unfortunately, cloning has not gone as planned, he continued.
Excuse me? Surely it didn’t have anything to do with my genes.
No, Tom. There was not anything wrong with your genes, except maybe your eyesight, but we fixed that, along with some other enhancements. Originally we had not planned to abduct you. You happened to be in the right place at the right time.
I’m thinking it was the wrong place at the wrong time.
So, it was you who caused my car wreck?
No Tom, you hit a pothole, remember? At least that is how you informed your father, Monroe quickly pointed out.
We happened to be in your neighborhood and witnessed your automobile spin out of control. We pulled you out just before the vehicle crashed. We knew you would survive the crash with minor damage. Therefore, abducting you would have no effect on the time wrap. We have to be very careful not to disturb it, as it would change the future. We determined that you would be a good candidate to help develop a communications device. During your examination, we discovered your testosterone level to be very high. This made you a perfect candidate for our cloning program.
Well, thank you. Thank you very much, I said. Of course, my Elvis impression flew right over his head, as I saw a blank look on his face.
So why on earth are you cloning people from your past? I asked, getting back to the subject on hand.
Future generations wanted a perfect world where all human negative behavior could be eliminated. Imagine a world with no jealously, envy, war, pollution, crime, or disease. A world with one race and one creed. We created our almost perfect world. Unfortunately, during the
creation, we lost the ability to reproduce. To save mankind from extinction, we needed healthy reproductive glands. The only place to get them was in the past, Monroe said, with a sad look on his face.
That’s what caused the blood in my semen? You stole my sperm?
I would not say stole, more like borrowed. You are quite capable of producing more.
This started to get interesting. Maybe, just maybe, I had started to believe. How about you?
That doesn’t really explain why you are cloning people from your past? I pointed out to Monroe.
As you can see, I am really getting into it now.
I will explain everything in due time, he replied, but for now, your brother and I require your assistance and time is running short. I need you to come back to the future with me.
Did I hear that right?
Had he just said he wanted to take me back to the future? Surely, I’d be waking up from this dream world any minute now. But on second thought, let me be. This could turn into an amazing and intriguing adventure.
Move over Doc, Marty, and Biff. It’s time to fire up the flux capacitor. Looks like I’ll be joining you in the future.
CHAPTER TEN
The Journey
One of my NASA buddies handed me something that resembled a surgical mask.
“You might want to put this on,” he advised.
“What’s it for?” I asked, “and please don’t tell me it’s another need to know.”
“You’ll find out soon enough, smart ass. Just put it on and don’t remove it until you’re told. You’ll be wise to follow my advice. This is as far as we go. Have a nice trip,” he sarcastically added, as he and his partner departed the room.
Hey dude, why the sarcasm? Probably another need to know. Or, perhaps maybe he was a wee bit jealous? Never did get either of their names. I didn’t know it at the time, but I would be seeing them again.
I noticed Monroe put a mask on too. I would discover later that our future siblings were susceptible to ancient smells and germs, especially from primitive kinfolk.
Hey, it wasn’t my fault that I hadn’t showered that day or the day before, and maybe even the day before that. Things had been moving so fast that hygiene was put on the back burner and the least of my concerns.
An exit suddenly appeared in the dome and Monroe stepped out.
Please follow me, and watch your step.
He led the way down a flight of narrow and steep slippery stairs that led to another room. There was condensation everywhere. The adjourning room was smaller than the cavern we had just left. It was filled with all types of
lighted panels, flashing every color imaginable as it emitted creepy sounds. It looked to be something right out of a scary Frankenstein movie.
Entering the room, I got hit with a God awful odor. The same type smell Missouri gets when the west winds blow from the Kansas farm lands. Yes, I could smell it through the mask.
Shit, I thought.
Are you required to relieve yourself? Monroe asked.
That may be a good idea since it has been awhile and I have no idea when I may be near a john again, I replied.
Who is John? He asked.
Just another ancient expression. A place to get relief can be called a john, a bathroom, a restroom, or an outhouse, among a few others and depending on which culture or time frame a person’s from.
I supposed being of a future generation would make it difficult to understand so many different expressions having the same meaning. Maybe ole Monroe hadn’t kept up on his English lessons, or idioms are no longer used in the future.
After visiting the John, (yes mom, I washed my hands) Monroe led the way down another narrow and dimly lighted passageway. We emerged into a humongous room craved out at the base of the volcano. As I looked up, I could see the night stars emerging through the opening at the top. Millions upon millions of stars lit up the night sky. I stood there in admiration of the astonishing display. It reminded me of my navy days on the USS Hancock flight deck in the middle of the ocean.
I looked into the vast room and saw another amazing sight. A flying saucer was parked in the middle of the room. That’s really the only way I could describe it. It looked to be as big as a football field. It was grayish in color and was suspended in the air about two feet from the ground. It had strobe lights at the top and at the bottom. An entryway was open and a walkway extended to the ground. There was a constant humming reverberation that tickled my ears. The size and sight of the ship put me in a trance.
Monroe snapped me back to reality when he explained that they had established an operations base at the bottom of the island’s largest volcano. Being from the future, they knew it would not erupt anytime in their time line. Easter Island was safe and secure, and was their only time entry base.
Their main time craft was called the Mothership. She carried smaller craft in compartments on her outside hull that were miniature versions of the Mothership. The smaller craft were mainly used to travel around the globe, once they had entered a conciliatory time quantum.
Most UFOs observed were probably the smaller craft. They always traveled in a tight formation of three. Why three? Need to know.
Got’cha!
Most abductees would be taken to the Mothership for their examinations and gene enhancements. Don’t ask how, he didn’t explain. Most likely, another need to know.
Monroe mentioned that I had been on the Mothership twice before. Of course, it wasn’t by choice and I wasn’t given a tour either time onboard. As I passed through the Mothership entry door, Monroe directed me to a small room that resembled a shower. I was instructed to remove my mask, undress and step into the compartment.
A fine, sweet-smelling mist sprayed my body. He explained that the mist sanctified my primitive odors and germs. A one-piece gray metallic cloth outfit, similar to the one Monroe was wearing, was waiting for me when I stepped from the shower.
We made our way to the cockpit (flight deck, to be politically correct). The room was round with two large flight chairs positioned on a small platform in the middle of the room. The ceiling and walls gave an optical illusion of blending together as one. The outer walls were covered with all sorts of flat screen monitors and panels flashing all sorts of colored lights. Beneath some of the panels were high back chairs that floated above the floor. There were holograms stranded in mid-air throughout the room. Gene Roddenberry (Star Trek) must have been an abductee too.
There were several other beings present, but Monroe didn’t bother with introductions. Most likely they were not relatives. Two were completely different than Monroe. Their human form more closely resembled our generation. They had perfectly proportional bodies. One that you would imagine an Olympic athlete to have. They had distinct features with unblemished olive complexions. Both were extraordinarily graceful, beautiful and illustrated a gentle, calm expression. They had mid length blond-white hair and deep blue sea eyes. Both stood well above Monroe. In fact, they were slightly taller than my six-foot frame. Both wore a one-piece uniform that formed tightly to their body. Each carried what appeared to be a weapon strapped to their waist.
One was most definitely a female. I was hypnotized by her unique beauty and sexuality. She observed my stare and enchantment, and gave me a smile that radiated calmness, gentleness, and goodness. I could have been imagining it, but I could swear she gave me a wink to boot.
Monroe brought me back to reality when I heard his dissatisfied grunt. He was probably reading my erotic thoughts. I’m beginning to wonder if we have the same genes.
Genetically engineered warriors to enforce and protect social order, he explained.
Yeah, she could spank me, I thought.
That thought brought another grunt and throat clearing from my grandson. I was to find out later that the Warriors genetic enhancements also made them highly sexual beings. I bet you can’t wait to get to that part!
After I had recovered from my trance, I continued to survey the flight deck. I noticed some of the panels were similar as those in the small room we had passed through at the base of the volcano. Most of the writings and symbols on the panels were Greek to me. The biggest panel displayed two dates that I could identify. The first was today’s date and time. I hadn’t realized it was Columbus Day, October 12, 1978, at 2307 hours. The other date read: October 12, 2191, 2307 hours. The date that America was discovered and now the date I will discover the future.
“Holy Cow,” I gasped.
I have not the meaning of a cow with holes. Please clarify? I heard Monroe ask.
Another confusing idiom for him. How to explain this one?
It is an expression of surprise, I said, hoping he would grasp the concept.
What is your surprise? He asked.
I just realized that today is my daughter’s birthday.
It is time to depart. Please take a seat and fasten your seat belt. It is still the law, Monroe replied, completely ignoring what I had said.
Yes Siree Bob, I replied.
My name is Monroe, Monroe stated, confused by yet another idiom.
You know, that’s a good question, Monroe. I have no idea who Bob might be. It’s just another English expression, and I have no idea where it came from, I replied.
My blood pressure spiked as the female warrior approached, still smiling, and bent over to help strap me in.
“Hello,” I said. “My name is…”
She quickly put one hand over my mouth and gestured with the other for me to be silent.
“Shhhh. Names are forbidden,” she whispered.
Her cleavage put a strain on my eyes and a bulge in my pants. When her hand brushed my leg, sparks flew from her fingertips and zapped me right between my legs.
“Whoa! Strap me in and fire up the flux capacitor Doc, cause here I come,” I shouted, without thinking.
Monroe shook his head and gave me another disgusted look. He must have thought I had a one-track mind.
Hey kid, mine still works, so eat your heart out, I thought.
I probably should not have thought that, as I felt pressure building inside my head. It felt like he might be trying to fry my brain. This type of communications was getting to be a pain in the neck, but I thought it might be best not to think it or I’d just might get myself toasted. There had to be a way to block some thoughts, I figured, but Monroe wasn’t wanting to inform me.
It occurred to me that I could just remove the helmet when I didn’t want him hearing me, but then, that would probably freak him out. Can’t have a freaked-out grandson running around in a spaceship headed for the future.
Mo
nroe waved a hand over a large red device on the date panel in front of him. I didn’t recognize the symbol above it, as I thought I heard him say Engage.
I thought Monroe might be playing with my mind. He looked me right in the eye and gave me a shit-eating grin.
Oh my God! Suddenly I observed something that I hadn’t noticed before. Monroe had only three fingers and a thumb on each hand. But before I could comprehend what I saw, I heard a loud hum and felt a slight vibration. A tingling sensation covered my entire body and every hair stood straight up. In a blink of an eye, the date panels registered the same date. They both read October 12, 2191, 2309 hours.
The Abduction Chronicles Page 9