The Abduction Chronicles

by Thomas L. Hay

  “Hello, Tom. I am so excited to finally meet you,” Tom-Tom said as he grabbed and shook my hand.

  It was weird to be looking at myself and yet not using a mirror. I suppose identical twins would know the feeling. Tom-Tom’s handshake was firm, so I knew he was no hologram.

  He wasn’t wearing a helmet, so I spoke out loud, “Ditto.”

  It was all I could think to say, as the cat seemed to have my tongue. It’s not every day one is introduced to oneself.

  D-Day had arrived. To say I was anxious and a little apprehensive would have been an understatement. The air became thick with suspense. You could have heard a pin drop, as I waited for Monroe to explain exactly what I was doing here, why I had been cloned, and why he and my clone required my help.

  We require the two of you to trade places, he finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

  Tom, we need you to stay here in this time frame and have Tom-Tom take your place in your time frame, my grandson continued.

  Trade places? Why would I want to trade places with my clone? I asked, as I could scarcely believe what I was hearing.

  As I explained before, cloning was thought to be the answer in saving the human race from extinction. Unfortunately, the clones were found to be sterile also. Since the clones couldn’t reproduce, a plan was adopted to have the clones trade places with their originals. The originals would stay here in the future in order to help preserve the human race. Your clone would carry out your legacy in your time frame.

  Are you getting this folks?

  That’s what all this had been about from the very beginning? Starting with my abduction outside Clinton, to the abductions in Oklahoma and California. Stealing my sperm, enhancing my genes, cloning me, and all because the future human generation and their clones are sterile. Since neither can reproduce, this would cause the human race to be in danger of becoming extinct.

  I can hear you saying it now, who is going to believe this shit? This is feeling more and more like a sci-fi tale by the minute.

  Monroe further explained that abductees couldn’t just disappear from their time frame. It would disrupt future events and cause a tear in the time warp. That’s where the clones came in. They were programmed with their originals memories and would continue with their life events. This would keep the time line from erupting. The originals selected for this switch were those known to have had no more children and to have lived a normal life span in their time frame. This switch would not affect history or timelines. No one in the past would suspect the switch had occurred, not even the clones, as they would be given a memory block of their life here in the future.

  Many clones and originals had already agreed to the switch and were in their places. My clone was ready and willing to do his part. They were anxiously awaiting my decision.

  Wow! I think I will need a few minutes to absorb all this, let alone believe it, I said, trying to recover from the bombshell dropped upon me.

  I understand, but you need to make a decision sooner than later, Monroe said, with a bit of edge to his thought.

  “What’s the hurry? You should have all the time in the world.”

  It is complicated for you to comprehend the vast details. Press this console on the wall when you have made your decision, he hurriedly replied.

  With that, he and Tom-Tom departed, leaving me to contemplate my situation. Do I really have a choice? What would they do if I refused? As you can imagine, all sorts of things were going through my head.

  This led me to wonder about something else that I had had in the back of my mind. With all this time travel and technology, maybe Monroe could do me a little favor, in return for me helping save mankind from extinction. After all, that would be a historical deed, so I pushed the button on the console.

  I would like a favor in return, I told him, when he returned.

  What favor would you require? He asked slightly agitated.

  Can you find out what happened to my second wife, Fiza? She disappeared a couple months ago.

  I had no idea if he could achieve such a feat, but I was compelled to ask, considering all of the advanced technology he had at his disposal.

  I shall grant you that favor. Provide her full name, date of birth, and the date, location, and approximate time she disappeared, he said.

  I gave him the information.

  I will return in a few minutes with an answer.

  That had to be the longest few minutes of my life. Did I really want to know?

  I am sorry to announce sad news for you. Are you positive you require this information, Monroe said, upon his return.

  Yes, I need to know.

  She was taken back to Saudi Arabia by her step-brothers and placed into a Bedouin tribe.

  In the back of my mind, I had suspected she might have been cloned and abducted by our future generation, so that put that thought to rest.

  She was sold into slavery and used to entertain visiting male tribe members. She committed suicide two weeks ago, (in your time frame) by the bite of a king cobra. Suicide was her escape to keep you and your children safe. I am so sorry, Tom.

  A river of emotions flowed through my heart and soul. My eyes filled with tears and I couldn’t help breaking down and bawling like a baby.

  Why can’t you go back in time and abduct her just before she dies? I cried, hoping for a different outcome.

  I am sorry, Tom, it does not work that way, Monroe replied. Her disappearance would disrupt the time lines.

  But you could clone her and have the clone take her place, I pleaded.

  We cannot ask a clone to take the place of someone who suffers an unfortunate death before their time. You must face the fact that she is gone. If you wish, I can implant a memory block to erase her memory from your mind.

  No. I want to remember her, always.

  I do not intend to rush you, but it is imperative I have your decision. Perhaps there is another with whom to converse, Monroe said, as he reached to open the door. She might assist you in your decision.

  Was Monroe throwing another monkey wrench into the equation? Now who could this person possibly be?

  The door opened and in walked—you’ll never guess who? Golly! Surprise, surprise, surprise.

  In walked Claudia, my first wife, the one who went rogue on me and started this whole shebang in the first place. I bet the look on my face would have stopped my granddaddy’s clock. I could perceive a major meltdown coming, with all the different emotions swarming through me. First, I was shocked, and then came hurt, followed by anger, anxiety, and last but not least confusion.

  You have a few minutes alone to converse, Monroe said, as he departed the room.

  “Hello Tom. I hope you now realize everything we went through wasn’t my fault,” were the first words out of Claudia’s mouth. “I had already made my decision a long time ago. My clone, CJ, replaced me right after our son was born. It was she who discovered how to melt her mind block and became confused and divorced you, not me. She kept trying to tell you, but you would never believe her.”

  “You don’t say,” was all I could mutter.

  The cat had my tongue again. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

  “Legally, we are still married, though in this society there are no marriages. Still, we can have a friends-with-benefits relationship and help preserve the human race. That is our primary purpose now, to reproduce. I am currently three months with child. What say you?”

  “Whatever?”

  What else was there to say?

  This better not be another dream. I was about dreamed out. It was going to take a while to comprehend all this. My human mind was limited in capacity and was getting stretched to the limit.

  “I realize you must be shocked to see me,” Claudia said, staring into my eyes.

  “I have been there and know the feeling. But Monroe will need your decision soon,” she reminded me.

  I had a tough decision to make and I had to make it sooner than later
.

  Needless to say, by this point I was more than a little perplexed. My intellectual and emotional capacity had maxed out. I felt like I was either in the Twilight Zone or in the Outer Limits. The picture was getting fuzzy and out of alignment. Please standby.

  PART TWO

  ABDUCTION

  REVELATION II

  Truth Be Told

  CHAPTER ONE

  Back to the Past

  Well folks, as you probably have suspected, Tom bellied up to the plate and did his part. After all, except for Marvel hero’s, how often does one get the opportunity to save mankind?

  Behold, it was I, Tom-Tom, (Tom’s clone) who got a memory block and was sent back to 1978 to continue his legacy. So far as I and the rest of the world know, the visit from NASA never happened. Tom never met Monroe, never traveled to the future, and I hadn’t a clue that I was his clone. There might have been a new kid in town, but no one, including me, knew the difference. Neither Tom’s parents, sisters, brother (Mike), children, or friends had the slightest suspicion.

  Keep in mind that I am no different from Tom. We share the same appearance, memories, personality, age, and health. We are more than twins; we are the same, only living in different bodies and time frames.

  I wouldn’t worry about him, though. I have been having some pretty erotic dreams lately, and those dreams indicate that he is gallivanting in the future, footloose, and fancy-free, on a quest to save the human race from extinction.

  *****

  As you recall, Tom’s second wife, Fiza, had just disappeared and he was in a state of shock. It was a struggle to get through each day, as gloomy thoughts of her disappearance assailed and tormented his soul.

  He could only speculate what actually happened to her and how she disappeared. He missed her more than life itself. He craved the feel of her hand in his, the taste of her sweet lips, the embrace of her warm, soft body, and the sensual love making they had shared. Only it’s me (Tom’s clone) who is now wallowing in his agony.

  Adding to my distress, I started having weird dreams of being lost in a strange futuristic world and longing to return home.

  *****

  “Do you ever change your clothes?” I asked Monroe. We were ambling down the main thoroughfare in a Dome. The pure scented air and the lush vegetation put me in mind of God’s biblical Garden of Eden.

  Yes, I have several of these suits.

  Monroe indicated to the gray metallic fabric jumpsuit which clung to his body. I was still getting used to the telepathy thingy with Monroe invading my head with his thoughts. Got to get used to the irritating fact that the little critter don’t talk just thinks thoughts at me. I scratched under the head helmet device that made telepathic communications possible. Sometimes it makes my head sweat and itch.

  “I mean, do you ever wear anything but those funky jumpsuits? Any of you?”

  I looked down the street to see clusters of the alien looking beings all wearing the same boring gray attire. I’d be a monkey’s uncle if I could tell them apart. They all looked the same, with their buggy eyes, no ears, thin lips, and same height. The gray outfits just made it that much harder to tell them apart.

  They are practical. They keep you at a constant temperature, they are impervious to water, resist tearing, have anti-inflammatory chemicals integrated in them, and are cheap to manufacture. You will get yours soon.

  “No way Jose’. Not my style. I don’t want to look that boring.”

  It is mandatory. Have you chosen Jose’ as my nickname?

  *****

  This dream gave me an overwhelming sense of loss. Like I’d been a plucked dandelion in a field of clover. Pulled up by the roots, dumped in an alien environment, with no four leaf cover in sight. Not my lucky day.

  Like most dreams, not much made sense. But I did sense that I had been there once upon a time and that I was feeling lost and homesick.

  After a few more miserable days, I finally convinced myself that it was time to pick myself up and dust myself off. Fiza was gone and there was nothing I could ever do about it. Wallowing in misery was not going to get me anywhere but a ticket to a nut house.

  The dreams and navel gazing had gotten me thinking. Why was I here? No, not the esoteric question, just plain, down to earth, why was I here in California? I had no family and no one I could call a dear friend. My brother and his wife were still in Saudi Arabia. I missed my roots of the good ole’ Midwest. I missed my old friends and my family.

  I concluded that California was just not my forte. Sure, the weather was great, the beaches pleasurable, but the natives were not all that friendly. The traffic was horrific. It was time to get back to my grass roots.

  I began searching the company ads for suitable jobs. So, when I saw a job opening posted for a Manual Technical Writer in Kansas City, Mo., I applied as I had always had a desire to write.

  ...Going to Kansas City, Kansas City, here I come. They got some crazy little...

  So, in November of 1978, at the age of 35, depressed, homesick, and brokenhearted, I packed my bags, loaded up my pride and joy 280Z, and headed back to the Midwest.

  The Comeback Kid was making another life-changing decision. Would it finally be the last? Will I finally be able to find some peace of mind that would last? Two to one, I bet your thinking the odds are not in my favor. At this time in my life, I’d best pass on that bet.

  Right off the bat, I reconnected with some old friends and family. The second day on the job, I ran into an old friend with whom I had worked in the Instrument Shop when I was first hired with TWA.

  “Hey, Ricky. How’s it going? Long time no see.” We had some fun times partying together back when we first hired on.

  “Son of a bitch. Where in the hell have you been? Haven’t seen you in ages. What’s going on?”

  “We’ll have to get together sometime and I’ll fill you in,” I replied. Knowing that he probably wouldn’t believe half what I would tell him.

  I especially enjoyed connecting with my family. Unfortunately, not with my kids who were still on the East Coast with their mother.

  “What’ca been doing these past few years?” they wanted to know.

  “Nothing much,” I replied.

  Yea, if only they knew. And if only I knew.

  It was the first time I had been with family in six or seven years. Right away, we celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed those holiday meals Mom would cook. And how much I missed teasing my sisters. They were all married with families of their own. I had nieces and nephews I had never met.

  When I was sailing the seven seas, I had my ship mates and a girl in every port. I thought at the time that was all I needed. When I met Fiza and found my soul-mate, I realized that something had been missing. But it was only now that I was home again that I understood what family truly meant. Seeing the world was nothing like seeing your roots.

  I took up golf and joined the TWA golf league. Dad and Mom played, so I had something fun to do with them. It also provided us time to reminiscence about when I was growing up. More than once, I was reminded how ornery I was. Now we could laugh about the stories.

  I also joined the TWA tennis league and played on the TWA softball team. I was reconnecting, doing all the things that I had enjoyed in my youth and it was about to get even more exciting.

  CHAPTER TWO

  League of My Own

  Santana’s black magic woman cast a spell on me. She waltzed into my life at a most opportune time. Colleen had me the first time she flashed her big brown hungry eyes at my innocent baby blue ones. She made a devil out of me as I surrendered to her magic sticks.

  She was prettier than a chocolate cupcake, with a tasty and joyful personality sprinkled on. She had an infectious smile that radiated extreme charm and red-hot sexuality. On a scale of one to ten...she came in as an eleven.

  Cleopatra eat your heart out.

  For the first year after moving from California, I hardly dated at all
. Fiza’s disappearance was still haunting me. I would flirt with a few girls at work but never got into anything serious.

  Colleen was one of these girls. As she was married, I never thought about taking it further. But she was definitely occupying my fantasy dreams, which I was having quite regularly.

  Hot dignity-dog if Colleen didn’t work in an adjacent office, so I would see and chit chat with her daily. Her friendly smile and attitude made getting up and going to work a joy each morning. I developed a crush, big-time and started visualizing she wasn’t married.

  In our conversations, I eventually spoke of Fiza. Colleen was very compassionate and comforting about what I had gone through. That’s when we really connected and became very good friends.

  Saturday Night Fever had made disco the ‘in’ thing. It was totally cool to dance like John Travolta. And the ‘in’ place to hang out was the Plaza, where hot-blooded males could connect with hot-to-trot females. It was fun, relaxing, and, of course, a good way to meet and impress chicks. If you remember, that was how I had met Fiza.

  One night, to my surprise, I ran into Colleen. She was there for a girl’s night out.