by L. V. Lloyd
Perhaps he should go online and have a look himself, see what all the fuss was about. He couldn’t possibly risk his personal information getting out there, but he could have a trial run. He’d buy a brand new tablet, specifically for Contact, and use a false name. Then he’d destroy it. Not that he was paranoid, but in his position, he couldn’t take security precautions seriously enough. He’d pick up a tablet on his way home tonight.
Later that evening, alone in his study, Rodriguez set up his new tablet and easily found the Contact site.
“E-Contact—where people connect.
World’s Best online dating service. Guaranteed. Contact for FREE until 14th February. Don’t miss out! Find out more...
“E-Contact. The better the points of contact, the better the match. Just follow our easy three-step process. These multiple choice questions will guarantee to match you with your perfect partner.”
His lip curled. Were people really fools enough to get taken in by that? As if any computer program could find you the perfect partner—as if a “perfect partner” even existed!
Still, he supposed as long as he had gone to the trouble of getting the tablet, he might as well follow through and answer the questions. See what sort of woman they tried to fob off on him.
Two hours later he sat frozen, staring at the tablet, an ugly red flush staining the back of his neck, flooding his cheeks.
A face like an angel stared back at him, sun gold hair, sculptured cheekbones and sapphire-blue eyes that held a wealth of knowledge in their depths. The curved lips smiled.
How dare they! Quivering with outrage, Rodriguez threw the tablet as hard as he could against the wall. Then he went over, picked up the pieces and took them outside into the yard. Wielding a hammer, he smashed every last piece into smithereens.
Tendrils of fear wove around his heart. How had they known?
By the next morning, Rodriguez had regained his composure. Contact—or the people behind it—had just made an almighty mistake. If they thought to intimidate him, or even set him up for blackmail, they had chosen the wrong man to target. He hadn’t got to be the head of the most important clandestine military project in the world without having access to the best investigators, both physical and cyber.
He made a few phone calls and sat back, satisfied. He smiled. Contact wouldn’t know what hit them.
O’Neill gazed into the warmest brown eyes he could remember seeing. A soft hand reached across the table to rest lightly on his. He smiled and picked up his fork, wondering how soon they could leave the restaurant and go home to bed.
They had only been going out together for a few weeks, but already he knew Carla was the best thing that had happened to him in his whole life. She filled his days with fun and laughter, his nights with passion. He couldn’t imagine how he had lived so long without her.
Only last week they’d flown to Bora Bora, after Carla had found pictures in a magazine and he’d told her he’d always wanted to go there.
“What are you waiting for?” she’d asked. “Life is too short to waste. Let’s take a holiday.”
So he had—his first holiday in years. Surely work could manage without him for once. Looking back, he’d spent all too many hours at the office and even when he’d gone home he’d still been working most nights. It wasn’t as if he needed the money either, he had millions.
It was time to do something for himself, enjoy life and step back from the constant pressure of work.
True, the Indian contract still needed attention but, as Carla had suggested, he could easily turn the project over to someone else to complete. It was only another coal mine when all was said and done; it was hard to understand now, why he’d thought it was so important.
And Bora Bora had lived up to all his expectations. Five marvellous days of sun and crystal water, cocktails on the beach and a charming wooden hut over the sea to sleep in. They were already talking about going back in a few months. After they returned from their skiing trip to Switzerland.
Rodriguez frowned as he reread the report from his best agent. At least he’d thought Volkov was the best—until now. After weeks of painstaking digging and research, he’d come up with nothing. It was as if Contact had sprung into life out of thin air—fully formed. The company was based off-shore, apparently hidden behind an impenetrable wall of shell companies, firewalls and invisible staff. Once he’d realised they weren’t getting anywhere investigating the company, Rodriguez directed Volkov to turn his attention to some of the “dates.”
While tech assistant Brian Manning had been only too eager to talk about his new girlfriend, Melanie, Volkov had run into a brick wall. It seemed Melanie had arrived in town with no history, no record of her birth, education or previous life that Volkov could find. When Volkov reported the same results for two more Contact “dates,” Rodriguez was almost certain he was confronting a sophisticated scam.
Despite the late hour, he rang Volkov on his mobile.
“I read your report. What’s going on?” Rodriguez demanded. “It’s obviously some sort of racket, they must be making money out of it somehow.”
“That was the first thing I tried,” Volkov protested. “Follow the money trail, the first law of detecting, but there isn’t one. Signing up is free. At least at the moment. Who knows what will happen down the track? But that’s not the issue which worries me most. Where are they getting all these women from? That’s what I want to know,” Volkov had said.
“What do you mean?”
“You must have noticed that nearly all of them are what you’d call physically attractive, beautiful even. Far more than the population average. Where have they been all this time—before joining Contact I mean? Why were they all still single and available?”
Rodriguez frowned. “Hmm.”
“It’s as if they have a factory somewhere, churning them out!” Volkov added. “Like in ‘Stepford Wives’.”
Rodriguez found himself actually considering the idea for a moment, before he joined in Volkov’s wry laughter. No one had that sort of technology, not even the US, and he should know.
“I want you to keep looking,” instructed Rodriguez. “They’ll have to slip up sooner or later.” He ended the call on Volkov’s reluctant agreement.
Contact had to be a scam, but who was behind it? Setting up new identities and deleting the back trails so efficiently was a highly specialised and expensive process. Not for amateurs. Some crime syndicate perhaps? Or more likely, a rival power—the Chinese possibly, or the Russians. But to what purpose? Extortion? Blackmail?
Contact had spread across the planet, no country was immune, though Volkov reported that it was having a higher success rate in some places more than others. Rodriguez knew from his own observation that half his staff were either already dating Contact matches or else in the process of doing so. His blood ran cold as he thought of possible consequences. What if it wasn’t about money at all? What if the sole purpose of Contact was to infiltrate key organisations, to discover secrets—influence decision making?
Eventually Rodriguez rubbed his tired eyes, stretched, and yawned. Time to pack it in for the night. Dimmed lights glowed faintly from each room on the floor as he walked down the corridor, emphasising the silence. It appeared he was the last one to leave, apart from the security guard. He frowned. Normally there would be people working all hours until the current project was completed, it appeared Contact was already having a deleterious effect. Instead of being hard at work, his staff had left early, hurrying home to their Contact partners.
Rodriguez was still too wound up to sleep when he got home. He made himself a sandwich, then flicked through his collection of sci-fi movies, searching for something to take his mind off the problems posed by Contact and help him relax.
Aliens. Barbarella. E.T. His lip curled, surely the most unlikely scenario yet. He wouldn’t have kept it except that it was a present from his young niece. Galaxy Quest... entertaining, but hardly realistic. Independence Day. Now the
re was a plot he feared all too likely. Matrix. Eventually he selected The Day the Earth Stood Still. He liked the picture of the robot on the front and besides, he hadn’t seen it yet.
Later that night, he awoke in terror. He sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding and sweat beading on his forehead. He’d been dreaming—a nightmare. Something about aliens appearing from a cloud of fog. Always, he’d pictured aliens as having a distinct physical form—whether humanoid or other—but what if they didn’t? What if they came as particles and then took any shape they wanted? He fought to recover the last wisps of the dream, but it melted away, out of reach.
Then he laughed, rather shakily. That damn film! That would teach him to watch a suspense movie before bed. He would have been wiser to choose Galaxy Quest after all.
He yawned. Tomorrow was Saturday, perhaps he’d allow himself a bit of a sleep-in for once. Go into work after lunch instead of before.
He was just finishing a late breakfast when the doorbell rang. He looked through the peephole and saw...
Rodriguez flung the door wide, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and outrage.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded harshly. “How did you get this address?”
A beautiful young man stood there, with sun gold hair, sculptured cheekbones and eyes... For a moment Rodriguez could have sworn his eyes were bottomless holes, filled with pinpricks of cold light... before they turned sapphire blue.
“Hullo, General.” His Contact date smiled. “Can I come in?”
Alien Love Story
Surreptitiously, Kel shifted his feet and rolled his shoulders as gently as he could. It was surprising how stiff you could get, just standing motionless in one spot. Still, only another hour before he was off duty and he could go for a run. He cast a quick look over the crowd in front of him, automatically picking out the five most important people in the room. The city Mayor, wearing a floor length sky blue evening gown, the Spaceport Manager in his dress uniform and the most important guests of all, the three aliens.
His first aliens. He remembered his surprise when they’d entered the building a few hours earlier. But they’re human! he had thought, half amazed—half disappointed. Except they weren’t. They were Sirians. Not that the aliens called it that of course—they knew the star Sirius B as Ardra, and their home planet, Arae. The Araean delegation was on Earth to set up an Embassy, as a preliminary to a trade agreement and to invite humans to establish a reciprocal Embassy on Arae.
Although they gave the initial impression of looking human, on closer inspection there were subtle differences. For a start, Kel had soon noticed they had six fingers on each hand instead of five. And their eyes, there was that touch of red in the whites, which Kel saw flare to full crimson for a brief second as they adjusted to the bright lights of the Reception Room.
Ambassador Vard, the lead diplomat, was tall—taller than anyone else in the room—though both his associates, a male and a female, were of average height so evidently stature was not a distinguishing feature. They all wore elaborate gowns of embroidered cloth, covering them from wrists to ankles, hiding any other differences which might have been noticeable.
Kel found it hard to take his eyes off them. As a Protector, brought in specially for the occasion, it was part of his job to watch them—and to watch anyone who came near them—but that wasn’t the reason. Well, not the only reason. Quite simply, the third alien was simply the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Once again, he thanked his lucky stars that Ortega had been struck down with the flu and he’d been called in to take his place.
Kel tore his eyes away from the aliens for a moment to glance around the rest of the room, checking to see that there was nothing out of the ordinary. Fifty guests milled around the room, staring dutifully at the intricate, stylized murals of Old Earth as they waited for their turn to be introduced to the aliens. More were drawn to the huge window which filled one entire wall, showing the lights of the city, reflected in the water of the lake surrounding the Reception Centre.
Even as Kel watched, the Mayor led the visitors over to the window, to see the view for themselves. The other guests moved hurriedly out of the way.
“Our satellite, Luna, your Honours,” the Mayor gestured to the huge silver orb in the sky.
“Beautiful,” commented Ambassador Vard. “We have two moons on Arae, but they are much smaller than this. Perhaps one day you will be able to visit and see them for yourself,” he added politely.
The Mayor smiled, regretfully, “I would have liked that very much.” Already more than fifty years old, she knew there was no chance of that happening. Even with the most recent technological advances, space travel was for the young and fit.
The Reception proceeded along its carefully orchestrated timetable. Kel was just about to heave a sigh of relief that nothing untoward had occurred to mar the evening, when he noticed a man hovering behind the alien female. Probably he was just waiting for a chance to be introduced, but there was something about the way he was standing that had Kel on sudden alert. The man’s shoulders were stiff, as if they were bracing... in a flash, Kel was across the floor. He swung the man around by the arm.
“Excuse me, sir, I’d like you to come with me.”
“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?” the man protested angrily. “Do you know who I am?” He tried to jerk his arm free but Kel kept a firm grip. If he’d made a mistake, he could apologise later.
Kel saw the Mayor quickly usher the aliens back as another Protector appeared at his side. “Trouble?”
“Maybe. Let’s take him outside and we’ll see.” Smoothly, the two Protectors escorted the man into a small room and searched him. Everyone present had been scanned before entry, so they knew he carried no weapon, but some things just didn’t show up. A piece of string long enough to circle a person’s throat for instance—or the fact that a person was capable of killing with their bare hands.
They found nothing suspicious but, even as he apologised, Kel believed he had made the right call. He didn’t like the look in his captive’s eyes. Embarrassment and even anger he would have expected, but not that flash of white hot fury.
Better safe than sorry. Kel made a quick decision to hand the man over to the Spaceport guards for further questioning.
When Kel returned to the Reception Room, he saw that the Mayor was winding up proceedings and that most of the guests were about to leave. Kel went to take up his position against the wall but the Mayor beckoned him imperiously with one hand.
“Protector Kel? Envoy Ziva Juul would like to meet you.”
Kel swallowed as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, gave him a tentative smile. Ebony curls framed a wide forehead, and perfect brows arched above eyes that were the colour of storm clouds.
“Thank you,” her voice was deep and soft. She extended a hand in the human way and Kel shook it gingerly, only just managing to hide the jolt it gave him. She smiled again and he realised to his embarrassment that he was still holding her hand. He dropped it quickly, a red flush staining his cheeks.
Luckily, he thought, no-one else noticed. The Mayor was turning back after talking to the Ambassador. “Protector Kel, the Ambassador has requested a human bodyguard for each of his staff while they are here on Earth. Naturally they have their own people but he has pointed out, quite correctly in my opinion, that they don’t know what behaviour is unusual for humans. What might indicate a potential threat.”
Kel just had time to feel a flash of jealousy toward the unknown bodyguard, when he realised the Mayor was still talking.
“Ambassador Vard has requested you—to serve as a bodyguard for Envoy Juul. I hope that is acceptable?”
“Oh yes. Uh, that is, of course, if my Captain agrees. I’d be honoured,” Kel bowed low to hide his confusion.
Over the next few weeks, Kel accompanied the Envoy whenever she left the security of the Embassy’s private quarters.
To his dismay, he found the more he le
arnt about her, the more he was attracted. As well as being physically beautiful, she was everything he admired, intelligent and generous.
He tried his best to hide his feelings and project an air of polite respect. Not only would it be entirely inappropriate to make any sort of advance while he was her bodyguard, but they were different species!
He had no idea what the sexual practices were for her race, let alone what courting behaviour was acceptable. Did the woman or the man make the first move? Did they even have a similar biology to humans? He tried to find out as much information from the net as he could, but although their political and economic systems were described in lengthy detail, there was surprisingly little about Araean personal customs. Evidently they valued their privacy.
He discovered that they had a custom similar to marriage—a contract entered into between two persons, but only once both parties had attained the age of thirty-five. Before that, they apparently engaged in short term contracts of about two years. He wondered why two years. Was there a reason or simply tradition?
In any case, he had no idea if his interest would be welcome. As far as he could tell, the Envoy liked him well enough, but nothing more.
He was in the Embassy, sitting in the small room that had been allocated to him for the duration of his assignment, when Ziva appeared on the monitor, outside his door.
“Can I come in, Kel?” She spoke softly.
He was supposed to be off duty for the night but Kel leapt to his feet and opened the door. “Of course, Envoy. Do you need me for something?”
Ziva’s eyes were wide and her lips were parted. If she had been human, Kel would have thought she looked distressed. Damnit! She was distressed.
“What’s wrong?” Without realising it, Kel stepped forward and took her hands in his.
“I wanted to tell you in person. I have been recalled to Arae. I leave tomorrow.”
For a long moment they stared at each other, misery reflected on both their faces. The next moment they were in each other’s arms. Kel didn’t know who had moved first.