by Thomas Zman
Luke snapped a bottle cap from his fingers and it sailed passed the Lieutenant to ricochet off the stove. He snickered insolently, his wide hand smoothing his short-cropped beard. Wendy reached sneakily up into the cabinet and took out a bottle of capsules. She emptied a couple onto her palm, swallowing them down. She smiled nervously as she felt everyone’s eyes upon her.
“Medicinal purposes,” she said.
“Wendy!” the mother yelled, then returned her attention to the Lieutenant. “So you came to talk about Frank,” her tone sobered. “Well I can tell you that we already know. He’s not coming back.” She shifted her stare to Luke.
“Yeaaup,” the crude man agreed, responding with a slight burp to his tone. “We consulted the Ouija board. It told us that he was gone for good.” He stretched his arms over his head and took a deep breath. “That’s too bad,” he said in a sly manner. “Really gonna miss him. He was like a son to me, right?”
“He was my son!” Gretchen yelled, leering at Luke. “A great son! A great child at that! Not like this other one here.” She looked at Wendy.
“Maaa,” the pink- robed woman cried.
“Frank took care of us. All of us! Even found himself a fine girl.”
“Haven’t heard from that one in a while,” Luke commented.
“The Government didn’t have to tell us,” said the mother. “We have ways of knowing such.”
Harbinger felt uneasy: the dogs barking, banging up against and digging at the door. He asked to clear a little place on the table, and then proceeded to lift some documents from his attaché.
“Wendy, honey,” said the mother. “Why don’t you go en see if you can quiet them dogs.”
THOUGHTS
I awoke feeling stronger than I had during the past few days. I came to discover the alien metropolis did operate on some sort of day/night cycle; how long the light/dark periods were I could only imagine for there were no clocks. Until now I would sleep for long durations – at least that is what it felt like – only to wake and find myself unrested, having trouble getting out of bed and carrying out a full day’s activities. However, I no longer have those anxious feelings that plagued me the first few days I was here. (At first I kept track of the days, but have since let that go) Sometimes I would awaken and my heart would race and an intense heat would sweat my body; my thinking of the past and what lay ahead: the uncertainly of it all. Those anxieties have now subsided and I calmly think only of what the day before me has to offer. I do believe my body has finally become adjusted to this alien environment.
Frank was still asleep in the next room. I knew this for I had yet to hear music; though could still hear his booming snores. I enjoyed laying here in the peacefulness, daydreaming a few minutes before having to get up. I’ve been kept busy in the city, mostly working on dismantling planes, cars, what have you – you name it, the Phoebians had plans for its pieces. I’ve also rebuilt some captured components with stepped-up variations to meet the needs of this advanced society. They’ve been testing me to uncover my strong points. The changing work routines making time pass quickly.
The transition I underwent enhanced my mental capacities greatly and I have learned considerably from most of the people I’ve met here – but I have also come to realize not all residents of Neuphobes have had their mental horizons broadened. Learning here isn’t repetitions and intense studying like that of the surface. Show me something once and I retain it by ‘progressive assimilation’; not only dismantling and reassembling, but comprehension of all its component’s functions as well.
Thoughts of Jean and the twins still weighed heavily on my mind. The initial trauma of our abduction still lingers; but I have accepted the inevitable: an opportunity very few humans could ever experience. Letting go of the past is painfully haunting, but if I’m to further benefit in this new life I must endure the sorrow and live for tomorrow.
. . . enough of this dawdling, I had better wake the Captain, for now the video screen on the wall was beginning to glow and we’d soon be getting our daily schedule ---
Frank appeared in my doorway, stretching and yawning. “Figured I’d save you the trip,” he said, his eyes still nearly closed.
The screen pulsed a rainbow of colors, which soon coagulated into the focused image of a young attractive woman. “Good day, gentlemen. I am glad to see the two of you are now requiring less sleep,” her voice soothingly British. “Your activities for the day include a brief period of labor at the Transmutation Complex, then it’s off to the Delta Towers for your first ‘encounter session’. An escort will arrive momentarily to see you both to your objectives. Have a wonderful day.” The screen faded.
“’Encounter Session’,” Frank mocked. “What are we going to ‘encounter’? More aliens?”
I grinned, then pardoned myself to shower.
I opened the translucent door and entered the shower stall. Surrounded by reflective tiles I stood beneath a series of lights. Before me on the wall was a knob, by turning it the cubicle instantly filled with a brilliant illumination. Instantly my whole body warmed to a prickly heat. I felt energized. My skin glowed with shimmering waves as I bathed in this cathartic iridescence; turning myself slowly, raising my arms up and down several times. I remained immersed several seconds until a sweetness filled the shower, whereupon, automatically the lights faded as so did my lavation.
I exited and gave myself a quick shave with an electric razor, then slipped into a pair of my gossamer work clothes. A touch up to my new short-cropped hairstyle, compliments of a local barber, and I was ready to go. At this time, Frank was doing the same as I. No sooner had I exited my room than a ring comes from our hallway door. Upon answering it I find the enigmatic Dan. Frank soon joined us.
“The day I can get into these clothes without a hassle will be a welcome one,” he commented, tugging at the garments that just didn’t seem to fit him quite right.
I laughed; Dan produced a slight grimace.
The elevator whisked us to the roof where we climbed into an awaiting auto-hopper. An ebony man, stout and muscular, awaited us; a NIM at the controls. We were promptly introduced:
Our new friend’s name was Jhal. He shook our hands and spoke with a deep, “How do you do? New to our city, I understand.”
Frank and I acquainted ourselves as the hopper flew over the city. We arrived at the Transmutation Complex in no time and entered the mammoth building. We told our names to an audio register unit and it issued us each a scanner card to be placed on our clothes. We strode the long the sweeping corridor as Jhal and Frank chatted light-heartedly; Dan and I were quiet. We entered an inner-cell room -- one that was all too familiar to that in which I spent time after having first come to this city -- whose window now gave view to the immense Mega Dome Complex and the Solar Port at its center. We awaited confirmation by our scanner cards to enter the work area; the cards acting as biosensors, deducing vital signs to assure our safety in the voltaic complex.
“Did you hear that, Steve?” Frank bided my attention. “The after work activities around the city that Jhal is talking about?”
“I’ve heard of such things from others, but I’ve been too tired after our shifts to go to anything.”
“Well,” said Jhal. “Tonight you will be just fine. Guaranteed. I recommend the Gregarious Galleon. We should all meet there.”
“That’s if Steve’s not too tired,” Frank joked.
Jhal laughed a booming laugh.
“Right, Steve?” said Frank. “Sounds good. It’ll help with – “
There was that awkward moment of silence. Frank and the others stared out the window.
“Adjustments,” Dan filled in.
A tinny bell chimed and the door slid open allowing us access to the Mega-Dome Complex. We stood atop a stratum walkway, which encircled the expanse. Leaning against its rail we overlooked work crews carrying out their familiar activities, then we walked down a flight of stairs and suddenly buzzers interrupted our descent. Work stopp
ed its normal proceedings and the crews took on landing preparations.
“We are just in time gentlemen,” sighed Jhal.
A wave of technicians, both human and Phoebian, took up positions at the computer terminals ringing the Solar Port. Forklifts whizzed passed to park in cordoned off areas while torches and power tools were shut down silent; only to have their cacophonies replaced by the deep, tremulous hum of the now enlivening Anti-Hydrox Unit. A series of commands were relayed through the technicians’ headsets as they methodically entered in calibrations to their consoles. The Mega Dome Complex dimmed it lights. The Solar-Port lights brightened, responding to master codes, which also increased the lighting in the entrance tunnel above to a blue brilliance. The large landing pad in the midst of the arena began glowing a hazed yellow as the oscillating buzzers throughout the Complex faded to oblivion.
Some workers, like our group, stood a safe distance away from the Solar Port. It was intense: for Frank and myself this was the first time we had gotten to witness a saucer coming in through the ocean’s gate. I looked up to the stairways surrounding the Complex and saw the last of a few individuals scurrying through hatchways. Then all was sealed tight.
The smell of electricity accompanied the Dome’s increasing air pressure. My ears clogged and I swallowed repeatedly to clear them. The Anti-Hydrox Unit steadily intensified its brilliance, pulsing life into the huge blue connecting tunnel above. From where we stood I could see technicians’ fingers busily adjusting dials and slide controls as a gradation of multi-colored lights flickered across their consoles. The Anti-Hydrox Unit increased its power still, increased its output until the Unit’s hum was amplified to a thunderous roar and the landing pad’s yellow haze became ‘the white’ of pure energy. Everything surrounding the Solar Port glowed ominously; figures nearby took on grimacing proportions. The air about developed tenacious characteristics, clinging to my body. I swallowed attempting to clear my ears again, only to have them pressure clog again and again.
The Unit blazed a brilliant beam up through the tunnel, its intensity so blinding that I was forced to turn from it. Jhal had warned us not to look directly at the beam. Others around me shielded their sight with crossed arms. I wondered how the technicians so close to the unit were able to withstand its brilliance; then realized they wore specially protective lenses over their eyes. A wind began to stir from the Port; freed ions no doubt being reflected from off the Saucer’s hull as it descended down through the tunnel. This static-wind made peoples’ hair fly about as it combed the entire Mega Dome with a disheveling phenomenon.
Soon, however the wind faded, along with the hum of the Unit. The resplendencies of the Arena subsided and there was silence. Then the Solar-Port’s lights were dimmed down and the Mega Dome’s again alighted, bringing a subtle luminosity to the immense expanse once again. I peeked through my folded arms at the still faintly glowing Port and beheld the massive outline of a Phoebian Inter- Planetary Saucer.
The silence was broken when conversing technicians walked up inclines towards the landing pad, where the glistening Saucer sat perched upon its three struts of landing gear. No windows or hatchways were visible on the craft’s smooth continuum of metallic hull, which one could only describe as being convexo-convex. Blinking lights were arranged around its protrusive bottom, lights that pulsed in unison with the unremitting computer terminals.
Groups of technicians milled about the Saucer’s base: some wearing headsets while others handled large touch-screen tablets. Groups of workers then mounted stairways surrounding the Solar-Port and lined up beneath the interplanetary vessel, acquiescently awaiting instructions. It was after a good amount of them had gathered that the underbelly of the ship opened from an imperceptible seam, its bay doors receding and a gangway emanating from deep within the vessel’s bowels. Several of the technical entourage entered up into the ship; one of the remaining technicians, thin yet sturdy with a chiseled beard, studied his computer-pad, then with a booming voice commanded:
“Groups 1 and 2, onboard for a cargo check. 3 and 4 ready the lifts and cargo basins . . . “
“We’re group 11,” Dan informed us.
“I hope you are feeling energetic,” Jhal commented. “We have the honor of helping unload this beast!”
We hastily made our way up the Port’s stairway just as our group’s number was yelled out. It was upon the stair’s handrails that I noticed a thin film of powder, and then on just about everything in sight, including myself.
“Salt,” Dan answered before I had even spoken it.
We were handed blue hardhats upon reaching the top of the pad; it was still warm for I could feel it through the thin soles of my shoes. We stood a moment next to one of the ship’s landing struts: a tapered metallic beam shadowed beneath the huge saucer. I looked around me, noticing there were several Phoebians up here, and one in particular that I had come to know. I couldn’t say how but I just knew it was Nayrb.
I shouted his name over the bustling workers, attracting some inquisitive glances. Nayrb looked up from a small device he used to scan the underside of the ship:
“Hello, Steve,” he communicated telepathically; giving that ever so slight look of Phoebian concern. “Your adaptation seems to be progressing well. I apologize for not being able to further socialize. As you see I am conducting a stress inspection on this vessel. We both have work to attend now, though we will see each other later. ”
I felt a little offended by his curtness; but then thought as to what he meant by ‘see each other later’. No matter. A supervisor wearing a white hard hat and clutching a computer-pad quickly led us up into the hold of the saucer by way of a tubular lift.
“Sweet Jesus,” Frank commented; Jhal crossed himself; Dan was stoic. “This is like an Amazon warehouse.”
Inside, the ship was strategically partitioned off into quadrants of freight -- freight as far as the eye could see. Muffled echoes of men and machinery were heard, but ceiling lights all that could be seen while walking through aisle upon aisle of towering crates, logoed with all sorts of earthly enterprises. The maze of merchandise sent my mind was reeling, trying to rationalize the unscrupulous means by which the Phoebians obtained this vast array of commodities. I was ignorant for never giving any contemplation as to how the city was supplied. I asked Dan:
“If you remember the Water Separating Facility, many of the earth’s minerals lie suspended within the billions of gallons of ocean water processed there. One of those minerals is gold. The Phoebians’ simply extract that, plus several other intrinsic rare earth elements, accumulate saleable amounts, and then sell it at one of the numerous exchanges on the surface. We have liaisons in all sectors of society from politicians and businessmen, to shop keepers and college students. All quite nimble as to the logistics involved between our two worlds.”
I smiled. I could just imagine if one of these ‘liaisons’ ever went public with their secrets, how they would be scoffed by society. (Much the same as I would be received if I were to ever leave this place and make known my experiences)
I was about to ask Dan more on the matter when the supervisor we were following made another abrupt turn and came to a halt before a section of shelving packed with long thick boxes.
“Dan,” the supervisor instructed. “Scan each of these items as they are loaded onto this pallet.” A small forklift had suddenly stopped where we stood. “Steve and Frank. Up top with you both. Hand down the boxes to Dan and Jhal.” The supervisor handed off a small computer scan-gun to Dan who promptly configured its settings. Shouts of commands reverberated throughout the hold of the ship; murmurs of contentious cohorts followed. Frank and I climbed cautiously up top of the shelving to the boxes. “Be careful on those items,” the supervisor warned, then turned on his heels and strode off.
‘Listen to everyone belly aching around here,” I said, lightheartedly. ‘You’d think we were wallowing in the mud pits of ancient Egypt.”
“Hustle, hustle, let’ go!” Echoe
d throughout the hold.
I attempted to wax philosophic: “The whip of the ancient taskmaster cracks upon us all!”
* * * * *
Having left Dan and Jhal off at the Archives to study, Frank and I were escorted to the Delta Complex by a NIM -- there were several about the city, I came to learn -- where we sat in a bleak, pyramid-shaped room with four other people. I still didn’t understand why we must always travel in pairs, and with someone of longstanding residency be they Phoebian, human, or robot. Our desk-chairs were arranged in a circle giving each of us an unhindered view of the other five: though one chair at the close of the circle lie vacant. Across from me sat a married couple; this I could tell from their wedding bands and the way they spoke so intimately. Frank was beside me, chatting animatedly to a young, curly haired woman whose soft olive eyes widened with excitement as he told of our toils unloading the Saucer – Frank’s flare . . .
“Hello,” A soothing voice from beside me asked. “What’s your name?”
I turned to my right where I beheld another young woman in our group. I gazed upon her fair skin and full lips, a hue of embarrassment rose in her cheeks –
“S – Steve,” I choked out; my mental analysis broken. “And yours?”
“April,” she replied, smiling; her teeth perfect. “This is my second time here. How about yourself?”
“First -- Frank and myself, that is . . . ” I gestured to my flirtatious friend.
“You know, I feel so uncomfortable in these classes,” the young woman confided, leaning a bit closer. A lock of her golden hair fell across her brow and she blew it back in place with an odd motion of her lips. “I never liked group discussions when I was in school. Self-conscious, I guess. Can’t really get comfortable in front of strangers. My friend over there, Constance, total opposite.”
Having heard her name, the woman chatting with Frank looked over to April. Frank looked at me with inquisitive eyes. I returned an ambiguous nod.