“I’m sorry, Scott,” she calmly apologised. “There’s such a lot to explain to you and there is not much time left available.”
“You’ll forgive me if I say I don’t understand,” he exclaimed. “Either I’m fast asleep within my tent and dreaming, or, I’m really standing here in my underpants being told I’m not dreaming, which is confusing to say the least. And, if I am in front of you in only my underpants, and you say I’m not dreaming… Christ’s sake! Hang-on, that doesn’t make sense… or does it? I’m going nuts with all of this!”
She let out a little giggle at his obvious confusion, assuring him that he was definitely standing in front of her while wearing only his extremely revealing underpants.
Rubbing his tired eyes again, before looking down at his pants and the tell-tale bulge, he asked, “Then where the hell am I and how did I get here?”
She began her explanation in as simple a way as possible. There was so much to tell him, while she knew there was only so much time to spare. She began by relating the story that had been within his head all along, a story that seemed so farfetched it could have come straight from any number of science fiction books. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His secret book was being told to him by a stranger, a woman who he thought he recognised but couldn’t quite place her. The entire episode served only to convince him he really was taking part in a dream and there was nothing real about any of what he was being confronted with. For instance, how could anyone else know anything about his secret story? However, he continued to listen in silence, reliving the tale as this mysterious woman described it to him. There came a point where his own story was overtaken by additional episodes that he hadn’t yet imagined. He continued to listen, taking in every word and syllable, trying to remember the entire explanation.
“I can use this in my book,” he said, picking-up in spirit. “Wow, on second thoughts, that wine is bloody good stuff after all!”
The elation did not last long and his shoulders slumped as his eyelids flickered towards closed.
Belinda approached him, taking hold of his shoulders and giving him a gentle shake. “Scott, wake up! You’re really here. You’re not dreaming and I’m standing right in front of you. Honestly! Everything I’ve said is true. The Grey Empire, the abductions, Frell and her daughter, your daughter… everything. Please believe me.” Her eyes glistened with the truth, giving her an additional air of authenticity. He didn’t know what to say. She had made him out to be some kind of hero, a general she had called him. Ha! He thought. No one had ever referred to him in this way, except perhaps his late grandfather who jokingly referred to him as an Admiral, which was only because he’d considered joining the Royal Navy at an earlier and more innocent adolescent age.
“Do you not recall, Drang? He was your pilot. Or perhaps the Mothership where you mated with Frell. You made an enormous emotional impact with the other female crewmembers while you visited us, by the way. Oh Scott… if only you knew!”
He screwed up his face as he tried to recall the so-called past events. “Then why can’t I remember all that you say? Why don’t I remember any of it?”
“That is because the memory was removed before you were returned to Earth. We couldn’t allow you the luxury of remembering what had happened to you. Can you imagine how your life would have changed if you had returned while retaining the knowledge of Frell and everything you experienced? Your mind might not have survived! Your life would definitely have changed.”
Scott sat down on the floor again, noticing it wasn’t soft anymore. He felt so tired without sleep, and this new adventure was draining him of any remaining energy as he attempted to orientate himself mentally into the recited story.
“I did lose a day when I was on Skye last year but I could never work it out. Are you telling me that’s when it happened?”
“Yes.”
Jesus Christ and holy shit!” he cursed as he began to believe her with a realisation the story within his mind was factual and not fiction after all. “I’m sorry I swore,” he apologised.
“It’s all right, Scott. I know how you’re feeling. I’ve tried to be as straightforward with an explanation as I can possibly be while not overloading you with details. It must be strange for you to be told things that you’ve forgotten. I wish I could make it easier for you.”
“Bloody hell,” he said. “I honestly feel like I’m going off my flaming head!”
Belinda took hold of one hand. The softness of her skin and warmth of her touch seemed to waken him. He looked her in the eyes and said he could remember something, but only a sequence of shadows.
“I have this idea for a story, you know? It’s all about a blonde woman who I fell in love with, making passionate love to; and you’re now telling me it’s all true? That is, you’re telling me that it actually took place, that I really did have sex with that blonde babe of a woman. Wow… and bloody hell!”
“Yes, Scott, that is what I’m saying.”
Giving a gentle tug to his arm, she suggested he should stand up and follow her. She wanted to show him more of where he was. What he didn’t know was the ship he was in was presently travelling towards its Mothership, which was a very long way off.
Stepping through the doorway, she stooped to gather something just out of site around the corner. She spun round holding a pair of blue coveralls, just like the pair she was wearing.
“Please wear these,” she said.
In silence, he reached out and accepted the bundle, noticing how light they were. Allowing the coveralls to unfold he saw there were moulded shoes incorporated into the clever design.
“Hey, these are brilliant! Scott was impressed as he slipped them on. His attention was captured by how flimsy they felt, suspecting they might tear easily if he manhandled them too severely. “They feel as if there’s no real substance to them,” he added.
Belinda stood perfectly still as she watched him put them on, taking note of his exceptional physique. The stories concerning Scott and Frell mating on the Mothership had been told countless times, right across space. The passion felt by Frell had passed telepathically to the other women on board, with a small sexual revolution taking place in consequence. Scott had become a legend in his own lifetime and many would love to meet him. She regretted not being there when it all took place, the sexual activity between him and Frell, to have briefly felt the sensations passing between them. She had only just left the Mothership and been on her way to another base to personally pass on necessary data concerning Scott and his persona to the Council of Six, the ruling body of inhabited intelligent space. She could only imagine what she had missed; trying to piece together the episode from the fragments of information she had learned from those who felt the experience. Yet here he was, standing right in front of her while wearing only a small pair of pants with that bulge between his thighs. He was bending over as he pulled the blue coveralls upwards, beginning to stand upright. The man of her dreams and secret desires was here and all she could do was look upon him. She unknowingly allowed herself to release a very long and loud sigh. Scott heard it and looked up.
He asked with concern. “Are you feeling OK?”
Belinda hesitated for a moment before dragging herself from her wishful fantasy and replying. “Yes…, I’m fine…, thanks.” She had replied in a voice no louder than a whisper, which he was acutely aware of with a tingle running up his spine at the sensuality and suggestiveness of the sound. Her mind was preoccupied with other things, secret thoughts of physical sensations she could only imagine, but was on the verge of wishing out loud. She was desperate to tell him her secret thoughts and desires, but could not allow herself to do so.
With the coveralls finally on, he couldn’t work out how to fasten the frontal opening. There were no buttons or any kind of visible connections he could recognise. She saw his dilemma and stepped forward to assist him. Her pulse quickened as she reached down to his groin area to place a hand at the base of the opening. Oh, how she
wanted to go further and place a hand inside the suit to touch this extraordinary man’s genitals. She almost did as he stepped closer towards her. She unknowingly held her breath for a moment as her hand almost brushed his underwear’s material, missing a couple of heartbeats in the process. Instinctively shaking her head, she attempted to recover her senses. What was she doing, she wondered? These wild thoughts of him and her were enveloping her logical mind, making her forget her important mission for the briefest of moments. Taking a firm hold of his hand, she placed it on the suit, almost where she’d seen the manly bulge. Holding her breath again, her hand led his upwards. He observed the almost magical performance as the material joined without leaving a mark or a seam. Looking on in amazement, as if faced with something extraordinary, he let out a gasp of disbelief. With the suit finally closed, she released her grip on his wrist, but not before giving it a slight squeeze. Her held breath was slowly exhaled, making a sound as if the closing of a pair of overalls was either a great effort or ... it aroused her. His instincts told him there was more to the little squeeze on his wrist than he was supposed to know, but chose not to pursue it. Until he was more informed he felt completely out of his depth, and there would be no trouble from him.
Stepping back slightly, she said, “There is much to tell you, but I will show you the ship first.”
He wanted to ask a whole lot of questions, but chose to wait until he’d seen and heard more of where he was. She led him through the doorway and asked him to wait one moment. Turning to face the door, she explained it was about to close. Her explanation began with how the ship’s metal can flow like a liquid when an electrical voltage is applied. With predetermined contacts already imbedded in the ship’s metallic structure the applied electrical power could be selected and altered as and when required to restructure the ship. And sure enough, the wall melted and flowed like liquid, taking in what he saw with a keen interest.
“That’s fantastic.” His eyes were aflame with surprise. His mind was opening up to the thought there might be lots more of this kind of magic to come and couldn’t wait to see more. However, as always, there was that faint memory still lingering in the background of his overloaded mind. He suspected this knowledge was already there but wasn’t quite reachable… yet; or was it? There was the small metal container he discovered in one of the motorcycle panniers from the previous year’s trip and was mystified as to how it came to be in his possession. It contained gritty black dust that enjoyed sticking to his skin and under his fingernails. The mysterious box had lain undisturbed for the best part of a year since he’d placed it high up on a shelf in his garage out of harm's way. He sometimes wondered about it though.
He interrupted Belinda as she was about to speak again. “I think I may already have some of this metal back home.”
Belinda paused as she heard his comment, but didn’t acknowledge his words. There should be no reason why Scott should have a sample of this metal at his home, she considered, especially as the element wasn’t available in his solar system. He could not possibly have any… Or could he?
“It’s really light and looks like the metal this ship is made of,” he added. “It’s a small container full of black dust.”
Could Frell have given Scott a container made from this metal? Belinda puzzled herself with the question. Might Frell have allowed him to take a sample of his planet’s lunar satellite back to Earth with him? She tried not to think of it, especially as it would have broken one of the Council’s strictest rules to do so. The doubt was there though. They had been to the moon and she knew Frell was in love with Scott. Moondust was black and how better to let him take some home with him.
“Phew,” she relented. “I think your little container is a secret between you and Frell only,” she suggested quietly, almost as if her comment might be overhead. “I think you should keep this information to yourself and not disclose it to anyone else.”
“OK,” he readily agreed. Whoops, he thought to himself. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. He also felt a little excited knowing he might own a little bit of flying saucer metal and began to formulate a simple experiment to test this revelation when he returned home, should he be allowed to remember all he had just heard. A simple battery with a couple of wires should do it, he figured.
“What’s the black dust then?” he wondered out loud.
“It’s probably dust from your moon, which is very black on the surface.”
He almost jumped with joy. “Holy smoke, I’ve got my own Moondust! I’ve got some bits of the moon in my garage. Hey-hey and bloody-hell. Fan-friggen-tastic! I’ll definitely try and remember all of this.”
Belinda was a little concerned. Should all this information get into the wrong hands, the evidence for extraterrestrial life and intervention would be readily at hand, and many secrets would be available. She knew she had to change the subject - and very quickly.
Taking him by the hand once again, she gave him a not-so gentle tug to distract his thoughts. “Follow me,” she commanded.
He knew he wasn’t supposed to have the metal box or the dust, so decided not to raise the subject again, unless prompted to do so.
She led Scott to a slightly raised platform, directly below an opening in the roof.
“This looks like an elevator. Is it?” he asked inquisitively, even though he already knew what the reply would be. Everything he was seeing he felt he already knew; it just needed to be shown and explained to him again.
“Yes, it is an elevator, as you call it. It will take us up to the Control Deck.”
“The name, Drang, means something to me,” said Scott. “As soon as you said Control Deck, the word entered my head. You mentioned the word, Drang, earlier. Why?” he asked.
“Drang is the name of the pilot who coordinated the ship you were on with Frell.”
“Erm, does that mean there’s a pilot on this ship too?” he asked wondering if there was another person on board.
“Yes, there is another. You will meet her in a moment.”
Scott’s stood open-mouthed. A, her, meant another woman, and, she, was a pilot. He was impressed. Female pilots were a recent innovation in the Royal Air Force and he thought the idea was brilliant. There were plenty of excellent female drivers back home too, where he would often see a woman handling her car with the enough grace and style befitting that of an expert. He’d sometimes wondered if they could pilot an aircraft as well as they drove. He enjoyed seeing women in technical jobs, employment where male chauvinists firmly believed only men could manage. Scott could never stifle a grin when he chanced upon any woman in one of these occupations, feeling pleased for them and their against-convention efforts. He could never bring himself to tell them how pleased he was to see them doing what they had chosen for an occupation as it would have sounded patronising to the extreme, possibly as if he was just trying to get into their pants. He never fancied a slap across the face either! There were many girls serving in the RAF, many doing jobs that some chaps thought they shouldn’t be. He always gave them positive encouragement and corrected any misgivings slighted by some ignorant male colleagues.
“Please stand very close to me and keep your arms close by your sides?”
Scott practically stood with his body pressed against hers as he took hold of one of her hands. Once again, he felt how soft and warm it was, enjoying the sensation as a comforting feeling entered him. She was so pleased he had done this and felt surprised. She could hear his breathing while he stood alongside her and felt the warmth of his breath on her neck; such was the closeness of their bodies. She released another sigh, but much shallower than previously.
Without any other movement by Belinda, they began to rise. Upwards they travelled, through the ceiling’s aperture. He thought it could have done with being a bit faster but it served the purpose, he supposed.
They entered the ship’s Control Deck, stepping off the platform. With a suddenness, which took Belinda by surprise, Scott exclaimed loudly,
“Oh my God, I remember this. I have been here before!” He turned to face her, saying, “I really do remember all this, and it’s how I imagined it would be.” He released his hand from Belinda’s and took a step forwards.
“I remember it all, all of it, including Frell. It feels like I’ve just wakened from the strangest dream or the craziest of sleeps; a feeling of being blind for so long but now I can see again.”
“Oh, Scott,” she said with genuine feeling in her voice. “This can’t be easy for you, to suddenly remember.”
“You’re bloody damned right it isn’t, it scares me to half-to-death just thinking about it. To be confronted with everything you’ve told me then to realise it’s all perfectly true is as mind-blowing as it comes. I suspected it was just a dream within my mind, a sort of escapism I suppose. I always thought there was more to it. A lesser man would breakdown and possibly crack-up after what I’ve been told; but me, I’m the sort that can handle the pressure,” he joked.
Belinda turned to look Scott in the face, looking beyond his blue eyes and joking expression. She knew it took a strong type of human to accept what was happening, to control their emotions while understanding the situation. She also recognised that Frell had broken the Council’s strict rules by leaving a certain amount of memory within his subconsciousness - if not all of it. How much of the experience they shared was left within him was presently unknown, but in time, she and others would find out. Frell had breached the current regulations concerning contact between their kind and humans from Earth, and she wondered why? What reason had persuaded her to leave him with the memory? “Hmm,” she hummed a thought.
Belinda took hold of Scott’s hands and gave them another squeeze, saying, “Frell needs your help; and her pilot too. They are in desperate trouble.”
Knowing there really is a woman called Frell, and a pilot named Drang, he listened intently without asking questions. He would ask when it seemed appropriate, but this wasn’t the time. Not yet anyway!
An Alien Rescue Page 6