---
Half a world away in the capitol, President Wicker leaned back in the leather chair behind his desk thinking, space aliens might land, but cogs of government keep turning. He had ten minutes before his next appointment.
Almost at once, a knock sounded on the door. He sighed and sat forward, “Come in.”
It was his secretary, “Excuse me, Mr. President, but you said I should contact you if anything related to the…alien ship developed.” Wicker nodded for her to go on. “Congressman De Bella is demanding to see you. He claims that he is the head of…” she consulted her note pad “the Alien Contact Advisory Panel.”
The President closed his eyes and frowned. De Bella was the chairman of that eighty year old group? He couldn’t believe it. He did not know De Bella very well, but his impression of the man wasn’t favorable. He didn’t think that he liked the man, nor that De Bella could be trusted. However, De Bella belonged to the other party and it was possible that he wasn’t being completely fair to the congressman.
“Mr. President?” his secretary prompted.
Wicker opened his eyes, “Please wait five minutes and then escort Congressman De Bella in.”
After his secretary left, he picked up his com device and contacted his Secretary of State. “Ed, what do you know about Congressman De Bella?” He listened for several minutes as Ed Fisher told him what he knew, which was next to nothing. Wicker thanked him and disconnected.
Wicker’s secretary escorted De Bella in and Wicker motioned him to one of the chairs in front of his desk. De Bella was in his sixties and was huge. He sat in the chair, placing his large leather brief case on his lap.
Wicker noticed that De Bella could barely fit into the chair. Wicker estimated he was about five-foot-eight inches tall and must weigh close to 350 pounds. His fat face and bald head were a pasty red color which matched his swollen nose laced with spider veins. His lips bulged outward in a perpetual pout. Wisps of wild, stringy gray hair exploded from above his ears and the back of his head. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly high pitched and feminine sounding, especially for such a large man.
“Mr. President, as chairman of the Alien Contact Advisory Panel, why was I not contacted as soon as it was determined that we were being visited by alien ships?”
Wicker raised an eyebrow. Upon seeing De Bella, Wicker’s unfavorable impression of the man had come sharply into focus. However, what did he really know about him? Giving him the benefit of the doubt seemed the proper thing to do. It seemed Congressman De Bella was a direct man and his question was a fair one. Wicker would respond in kind.
“Congressman De Bella, the Alien Contact Advisory Panel has been next to inactive for decades. When is the last time your panel met? When was the last time the Alien Contact Procedures Manual was updated? Do you even know where it is?”
The President’s mention of the procedures manual seemed to delight De Bella. “Your point is well taken, Mr. President. No one really thought we’d ever be contacted by aliens and I must admit my chairmanship of this panel was, even to me, more formality than anything else. The panel has met twice, both times at the Sand Side Golf Course, and we had drinks and played golf.” Wicker laughed out loud, his dislike for the man lessening despite himself.
The congressman continued without skipping a beat, “The procedures manual has never been updated, but I did read it and…” De Bella opened his briefcase and pulled out a large bound book marked ”top secret” and held it up “… I brought it along with me.”
Wicker blinked. He was impressed. Perhaps he had been wrong about this somewhat scary fellow.
He briefed De Bella on what had been done and, somewhat reluctantly, put him in between himself and the team he had assembled with the condition that he be updated continuously.
Chapter Four – Recovery
“!! INTELLIGENT LIFE FROM ANOTHER STAR !!
Aliens bring injured man to ER! Today the most significant event in the history of our species occurred: intelligent beings from another star made contact with us. At 6:20 AM a spacecraft estimated to be seven miles in length appeared in the skies over the Northwestern Continent. At 2:22 PM a second spacecraft, estimated to be about 160 feet in diameter, landed at Hillcrest Medical Center…”
Network*News Headline News Bulletin rn377327.9971
The Amular Network*News! All the news that’s NEWS!
Source: The Archive
From the back door, through vacant eyes, Grace Maximus watched her son Nero play in the small sand box. It was lunch time and she would call him in shortly.
Grace was tall, lean and tanned, her long blond hair tied into a ponytail. Her striking blue eyes were now blood shot with dark circles under them. Still, her high cheek-boned face was smooth and beautiful belying her fifty years.
Normally she always wore a contagious smile with which she infected everyone around her with generous portions of joy. As one of Amular's top eye surgeons, she both figuratively and physically found the sun light in every dark corner. In her eyes, the future that spread before her was lit with brilliant rays of hope and promise. But today, none of this was present. Five days ago, in an instant, it had all been stripped away.
Nero looked up at her from across the yard then returned to filling the sand bucket. He took after his father with deep blue eyes and light reddish brown hair. Even at this young age he was taller than the other boys. He knew something was wrong, but thankfully, he had not asked what. Grace was putting off telling him for as long as possible.
Eighteen hours had passed since the alien ship had landed and Adamarus’ wife and son, plus the other two people staying with them, were perhaps the only four people on the planet who knew nothing of it.
It had been five days since the uniformed men had come to her door and told her that there had been an accident—that her husband had been killed.
She had cut off all news since then. She was numbed by shock for the first day. The second day, it had hit her and she had cried until she had run out of tears. On the third day, both her younger sister and her best friend had arrived from out of town joining in her seclusion. She had been glad for their support. Now the fifth day, she wondered once again how to tell her five-year-old son his father would never be coming home.
The doorbell rang. She ignored it.
Her sister Tanya entered the room behind her intending to ask if she should answer the door. She was shorter than Grace and had a beautiful face and thick brown hair. But unlike Grace who could eat anything and remain rail thin, Tanya always waged a losing battle against her weight. The death of her sister’s husband had caused her to drop eight pounds in three days, but she was still shaped like a pear. She decided against bothering Grace and quietly left to answer the door.
After a few seconds, Grace could hear people approaching behind her. She turned and looked at the two men with her sister. More uniformed men, she thought numbly. They seemed nervous.
“Mrs. Maximus.”
She nodded and waited, wondering what more could happen, what more they could want.
The same uniformed man turned to Tanya, "Lt. Tanya Bonnet."
Grace's sister nodded.
"Do you know?" he asked Tanya.
"Know what?"
"Good," the uniformed man said. He glanced outside at Nero then focused on Grace again, "Mrs. Maximus, outside of your sister and son, are we alone?"
Her girlfriend was currently asleep in the guest house. Mystified, Grace nodded.
He again turned to Tanya. "Lt. Bonnet, effective immediately your security level is elevated to Red Raven Limited and what you're about to hear is classified as such. Do you understand all I've said?"
Dazed, she nodded.
He returned to Grace and cleared his throat, again looking nervous. The second uniformed man remained stiffly at parade rest silently watching. The first one blinked, swallowed then said, “Mrs. Maximus...it’s your husband...”
Grace’s hand suddenly flew to her mouth. O
h God, she thought, they had found his body and wanted her to identify it. She felt faint and leaned further into the door frame.
The uniformed man continued, “...we would like you to come with us.”
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes.
“Understand, he’s still unconscious but…”
Grace’s eyes went wide with confusion and an audible gasp escaped her. She screamed “What? What did you…” her mouth moved but for a moment nothing came out. Then, in a hoarse whisper, she managed, “… unconscious?”
Tanya had reacted as well, stepping back in shock. Then she lost control and physically grabbed the man who had been speaking and yanked him around. Her voice rose, threatening to break. “What are you saying?” She was shaking him now. “Are you saying that Adamarus is alive?”
Now both men looked shocked. Outside Nero ran over, burst through the sliding door and grabbed his mother’s leg. The officer Tanya had grabbed was still speechless, but the other one, still looking at Grace's reaction managed to stammer, “I’m sorry…has no one contacted you…”
Grace grabbed the door jamb to steady herself. Nero looked up and cried “Mommy!”
Tanya’s grip on the officer tightened and she pulled him forward almost lifting him off the ground as she half hissed and half yelled, cutting off each word, “Is—he—alive?”
The other officer stepped forward and tried to pry Tanya’s hands away from his partner as he said “Well, yes…and I’m sorry if…”
At that point Grace cried out interrupting everything. It was a tortured sound somewhere between anguish and joy. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she dropped. All of them rushed forward and caught her before she hit the floor. Nero dropped to a sitting position and started crying.
---
Eighteen hours later, in the early morning hours, a black limo with dark tinted glass flanked by two police cars and surrounded by four police motorcycles sped through the streets of Hillcrest. The police vehicles had their lights flashing with sirens off and the motorcade was passing cars left and right.
In a daze, Grace watched the city pass by through the tinted glass. The elaborate motorcade had been waiting for them at the airport. As soon as the plane taxied to a stop, it had pulled right up to the plane and they had been ushered into the limo.
Nero slept peacefully in her arms and Tanya sat next to them staring straight ahead, clutching her purse. Grace’s friend, confused but unable to be told anything, had stayed behind–family only was all she had been told.
It was still too early for the morning traffic. The sky was clear but Grace knew it was chilly out there. On the fifteen-hour flight, she and her sister had caught up with the news, learned of the alien ship in orbit and the shuttle which had landed at the hospital and delivered Adamarus. She had also heard that alien technology had saved his life, was keeping him alive right now, and would presumably allow him to make a full recovery. Then they both finally slept. Forty minutes before landing they had been awakened and fed.
The car came to a barricade surrounded by the news crews it held back. The tinted driver’s window rolled down and they were then allowed to pass. The car continued down a tree-lined road which soon curved, bringing the hospital into view. Suddenly Grace’s heart sped up and she held her son tighter. Her sister stroked her arm and said something Grace could not focus on.
The limo pulled up to the front door and stopped. The driver and a uniformed man who had ridden up front got out. The door beside Grace opened allowing in the chilly air and bright sun. Nero woke, rubbing his eyes. After a moment they got out of the limo and entered the glass doors with their uniformed escort while the driver returned to the limo. The unmistakable smells of a hospital washed over them. The lobby was filled with uniformed men. Behind a wooden counter three nurses busied themselves.
The uniformed man led them through the crowd towards a group of men whose uniforms Grace recognized as being more senior than the others. But before they got there, she heard her name called out and turned towards the sound. She immediately recognized Commander Radin Talvin. He rushed towards her and she fell into his arms and began to cry uncontrollably.
“Now, now…” Radin said as he held her, “Adamarus is going to be fine.”
Grace croaked between sobs “They told me he was dead.”
“I know, I know, but he’s not. I’m so sorry I could not come to you sooner – I just got dirt-side last night.”
“They told us he was dead,” she said again but this time in anger.
“We all thought that he was Grace.” He squeezed her tighter then held her away and looked into her eyes. “It is beyond belief what happened… beyond belief that he’s alive.”
Grace nodded numbly wiping her eyes. Tanya had knelt down by Nero and was holding him. He had started crying when his mother had.
Their escort had gone ahead and talked to the brass in hushed tones. He now returned. He nodded at Radin then said, “Mrs. Maximus,” he motioned at Radin, Tanya and Nero, including all of them, “if you’ll follow me.”
They entered an elevator, rode up several floors and exited. They were expected. A very youthful looking officer saluted Radin and the other officer, and motioned them down the hall. As they walked behind their youthful escort, he turned nervously, unsure of whether or not he should convey the news he had, “Ah… he regained consciousness for a few minutes a while back.”
Radin nodded his thanks and asked, “How long ago?”
“About half an hour.”
They arrived at a door posted with two guards. One of the guards saluted and opened the door. They walked in.
Adamarus lay on a hospital bed covered by a sheet – not much could be seen, though something green seemed to cover half of his head. They could see tubes going into his nose and into both arms. The wall behind was filled with monitors. Like a cliché the only sound was a beeping that kept rhythm to his heart. A nurse stood to the left of the bed with a clip board checking the monitors. She turned when they entered and nodded to them.
Grace and Radin approached the bed. Tanya lingered near the door staying behind with Nero. Grace’s hand went to her mouth as more became visible. What looked like a semi-transparent green gel sack came up the left side of Adamarus’ neck and continued up, covering the left side of his face and head. The right side of his face was mostly visible except for a small bandage on his cheek. Most of what was visible was swollen and bruised – discolored in dark purple with yellow around the edges, but this was on his forehead and along his jaw line. The one eye they could see was closed, but there was no bruising around it. His mouth was slightly opened. His lips looked dry and cracked and there were several small cuts.
Grace took all this in as she approached wide eyed. A tear trickled down her cheek. Radin stayed behind her. She approached until her face was six inches from Adamarus’ and she stayed there for what seemed like a long time. Suddenly she backed away shaking her head. She bumped into Radin who put his hands on her shoulders and backed away with her. When she spoke it was a strained whisper, “No… this is wrong. Very wrong.” She started to shake.
Leaving Nero standing near the door, Tanya came forward. Radin, a concerned look on his face, handed a badly shaking Grace off to her, then turned and took a closer look at Adamarus’ face. Yes, he thought, something’s not right, but at first, he could not figure it out. He could hear Grace’s shaking voice behind him, “He’s not right… not right…” Then Radin saw it. Adamarus’ hair had no gray. But there was more. It had been reddish brown before age had dulled the color. Now the color was back and had a healthy sheen to it. Then he noticed the skin, although bruised and battered, there were no wrinkles, no sagging. This Adamarus looked twenty years younger!
Radin continued to stare in amazement as he straightened up. He was about to turn when Adamarus’ visible eye fluttered open. He looked up at Radin and smiled slightly, then said, “Radin,” it was a hoarse croak. He cleared his throat and continued in a clearer
voice, “You look like shit.”
Radin just stared down in shock. Behind him Grace cried out “Adamarus!” and rushed forward moving Radin out of the way, but then she stopped, the wrongness she had yet to identify holding her back.
Adamarus’ eye shined ever so slightly, “Grace, my love. I’m so sorry.” His face went sad for a second, then he smiled again, “I guess…” he made that familiar ”innocent” expression of his, “I zigged when I should have zagged.”
Whatever had seemed wrong to Grace dissolved and all previous doubts and barriers went down. She threw herself on him, tears running down her cheeks. Then, overcome with emotion, she started softly hitting his chest. “You!” she cried, “You said… you promised…”
“Hey, hey,” Adamarus whispered, “take it easy.”
“Promised!” she continued, then seemed to run out of steam, “promised…you’d be careful,” she ended with a whimper, her voice cracking.
Adamarus was drifting off again. He replied in a slurred voice, “I tried to be, my love… I’m sorry.”
Grace, realizing he was tiring, lifted away and composed herself. She ran her fingers lightly across his eyebrow trying to avoid the bruised areas. “I know honey. I know.”
Adamarus’ visible eye opened larger for a second, “You forgive me?”
“Yes.” Grace gave up on avoiding the discolored areas and her hand brushed his cheek.
Drifting off again Adamarus said, “Good… good… don’t want you mad…”
Grace continued to brush his cheek as Adamarus looked at her with his one good eye half closed. At that moment she saw it and confusion clouded her face. Adamarus noticed her puzzlement and with a slight tilt of his head asked, “What?”
She replied with wonder in her voice, “You look like a young man again.”
Encounters 1: The Spiral Slayers Page 5