An Alien Rescue

by Gordon Mackay

  “I think Scott is trying to help you understand that the Isle of Skye is part of the country called, Scotland, Patricia. And unless I’m mistaken, and Scott can correct me if I am, the Scottish people are very proud of their country and their heritage.”

  Scott turned to Belinda, smiled while giving a cheeky wink, and then said, “Damned right we are… Very flamin’ proud!”

  Patricia sat motionless while still trying to appreciate Scott’s quaint turn of phrase. All she could do was smile encouragingly.

  Belinda wasn’t sure about the wink. She wanted to ask him if there was something wrong with his eye, but decided to forget what she saw. If there were a problem, he would mention it. She knew there was a lot to learn about Earth-human communicative skills and interpretation.

  Patricia continued. “The last time was when you were returned. Was there anything unusual about the return trip that might help us understand why they went missing?”

  “Anything unusual?” asked a confused Scott.

  “Yes, anything at all. Were there any communications with another ship while on the return trip to Earth, for instance?”

  The memory of the encounter with the Grey ship rushed back to meet his thoughts. He recalled the dilemma they were in and his taking control of the ship and his team. The reference Frell made to him by calling him her General made him smile with pleasure. He remembered Frell so well; oh, how he was really beginning to miss her.

  Both the commander and Belinda picked up his thoughts, quickly recognising the battle that took place above Earth. They never knew! No one knew, except the Grey Empire, no doubt!

  Patricia climbed out of her seat and rapidly stepped across the room to the door. There was a pause before the door into Scott’s room opened with a start. “Are you telling us you destroyed a ship from the Grey Fleet?”

  Scott took a step backwards before replying. “I never said that!

  Patricia looked at him in disbelief. “You did, you just passed that information to me.”

  Belinda stepped between them before explaining to Patricia that Scott was unaware of his extraordinary potential with telepathy, not fully understanding he was intermittently communicating with others hearing him. His abilities were on the increase, almost like an infant learning to speak.

  The commander began to understand why Scott was considered so valuable. She would need to be more understanding of this man if she was to recruit him as a rescuer.

  “We did not know about the destruction of a Grey ship. It does not surprise me the Greys are seeking revenge for what you did. It appears to me, Scott, the Grey Empire are after you as well. I sense a trap in the making.”

  Within his memory, Scott could still see the stricken Grey vessel foundering above the planet’s atmosphere with its structure breaking into smaller fragments. Both women saw the vision as it flashed across to them from his functioning mind.

  “This puts a different perspective on everything,” added Patricia. “This information must be passed to the Council immediately. Scott, I need a complete report of all your experiences following your departure from this Mothership following your previous visit.”

  With an understanding nod of his head, he agreed.

  No more words passed between Belinda and her boss, none that Scott was aware of. The final conversation was a briefing, full of instructions and commands. Patricia turned to Scott, picking up the inference of, General from his loud mind. “Did Frell refer to you as a General during the battle?”

  “It was mainly afterwards,” he answered. “After I’d given the Grey’s a good kicking.”

  “You physically kicked them?” she asked, unable to imagine how a man from Earth could possibly kick the Greys.

  “Only in a manner of speaking,” he added. “And should I ever meet another brown Grey, he’ll get a Glasgow kiss!” He let out a loud laugh at that statement.

  Patricia understood. Like Belinda, she was beginning to see the wider implications in the way he spoke. She was also beginning to tune into his increasing telepathic skills, recognising the correct meaning of his words through the fuzziness of his logical thoughts. The imagined scene of a head-butt didn’t encourage or amuse them, but eventually recognised it was his humour in the making.

  “There is much to discuss Belinda, so I will let you carry-on with what you must do.”

  With this said, Patricia put out her hand to Scott, who in turn reached out and shook her hand in Earth-human style. She knew this was a friendly method of greeting and saying goodbye, so decided to use it. Scott, on the other-hand was surprised. Patricia’s ulterior motive was to use it as an excuse to touch the man everyone wanted to meet. She felt his strong grip and bodily warmth for the briefest of moments, possibly hanging on for a little bit longer than she should have. He sensed the hesitation, thinking it was probably just a new experience for her, although a sharp image entered his head for that moment. He saw a picture of him… and her, both naked with arms and legs wrapped tightly around each other. He was sure there was a glint in her smiling eyes as he thanked her. Was the thought deliberately passed over, or was it his fertile imagination working overtime again. He couldn’t be certain, but enjoyed the interesting sensation anyway.

  The commander turned and left the room. She had to be decontaminated and was on her way to the appropriate station. Belinda placed a hand on Scott’s broad shoulders, saying, “I need to know the entire story, everything that happened between here and Earth when you were returned. It needs to be documented in every detail. You must include the entire journey back to earth, including things you may regard as insignificant. Scott carried out her instruction to the very smallest detail, including the scotch and soda with ice, the apprehension by the Grey vessel and their hailed demands. Belinda listened in astonishment when he explained how he turned their own little ship around and took the battle back to the Greys, with good old-fashioned military grit. They were fighting for their survival, she thought, and they could have died fighting too. Belinda knew there had to be something extraordinary about Scott for the Council to approve his selection, and now she understood their reasoning. He finally explained the huge ship’s destruction in colourful detail, adding his fears for the crew’s fate. Belinda felt his compassion within the uttered words, she didn’t need to read his mind to know it.

  His last words described him making love to Frell, eventually taking her from behind. Belinda’s mouth fell open as she listened. He wasn’t just recounting the experience in words, but also in pictures, which she was watching. She was speechless.

  Scott’s report of the events was at an end, but Belinda remained motionless and silent. Her eyes were looking at Scott with unseeing eyes. Her complete attention was captured by the vision of Frell and Scott, and so was that of the other females on board the ship. Scott couldn’t control his telepathic thoughts yet, or the strength with which they were sent out, almost like shouting at the top of his voice instead of whispering. His thoughts were like a deafening roar to those closest. Just like the previous time on board the Mothership, when Scott and Frell made love in her quarters, she released a long scream of ecstasy with almost every female on board hearing her. This was the beginning of the rumours concerning Scott’s sexual exploits, which have continued through to the present moment. After this new outburst from his mind, the living legend of Scott has just reached new and incredible heights. How the others were going to react to the pictures and sounds of Scott making love to Frell in the way they had was going to be very interesting, to say the least!

  Looking into her glazed eyes, he quietly asked, “Belinda, are you alright? Are you okay?” He was unsure if she was communicating with anyone as he remembered Frell standing very still and quiet when she did. His questioning words were quietly asked just in case she was in conversation and didn’t want to disturb her. It might be important.

  Belinda blinked once, twice, before her pupils seemed to acknowledge his presence. A small tear appeared in the corner of one eye, mak
ing Scott feel protective and concerned.

  “Is there something wrong?” he asked, wondering if he had said or done something to make her sad.

  She exhaled her held breath with a loud gasp; she hadn’t experienced anything like it in her life. Her closeness to Scott while he had been shouting his recollected memories had affected her in a way she couldn’t begin to comprehend. The visions of destruction and the assured demise of the attacking crew were bad enough, but the experience of lovemaking had left her feeling drained and incapable of movement. She had become all hot and sweaty, practically shaking from head to toe. She felt as if they had just made love and was on the point of having an orgasm.

  Scott waited briefly before taking her clammy hands into his, feeling her shake. She slowly looked down at his supporting grip, before managing to recollect her thoughts and controlling her mixed feelings. The Mothership’s female crew had been affected in a similar way, including Patricia. She was undergoing the decontamination procedure when Scott’s feelings reached out and engulfed her. She had to sit down before collapsing onto the room’s foggy floor, unable to stand while the experience was transmitted. She gently writhed to the feelings shared by Frell and Scott, taken over by the physical sensations of sex in all its glorious physical detail. All the ship’s workstations were affected, even the decontamination controllers who were supposedly monitoring their commander while she was cleansed. If the process hadn’t been automatically controlled, Patricia would also have been completely purged of the symbiotic bacteria within her body, which would have caused her severe health problems… or worse.

  Practically every female had to sit or lie down, wherever they were. As soon as Phyllis felt the excitement rushing through her, she instantly knew what was happening and who was responsible as her thoughts picked up the telepathy. Her legs practically gave way as she struggled to maintain her stance, gripping the back of a chair to help keep her balance. She had never experienced sensations like these before; they were deep, full of meaning and primitive desire, her body and mind collapsing into sexual turmoil. Those members of the Mothership’s crew who had been sleeping weren’t spared the effects either; they would remember the best dream of their life when they awakened, wondering why their bedding was wet and in such disarray.

  Scott was completely unaware of what he had done, he just couldn’t understand or realise how powerful his thoughts were. He smiled as he finished his story, remembering the last time he saw Frell, wondering when he would see her again.

  Chapter seven

  Earth’s thin veneer of atmosphere was brown and filthy with toxic pollutants and carbon, giving the once-upon-a-time blue sheen a much darker and sinister shade than its previous colour when viewed from afar. The Grey ship entered the outer limits of its target planet, unseen and without human knowledge. Military radar systems missed this event because it just wasn’t designed to detect an alien ship that could absorb energy from external sources, unless the system was deactivated or faulty. No signal would rebound from its structure and no signature was transmitted. Earth’s search for extraterrestrial life was a non-starter, even though there were many comings and goings all around the globe.

  The Atlantic Ocean loomed below the descending craft, the drifting clouds gave it an unbroken, frosted appearance from above. With the continent of South America indicated to one side of its trajectory, the ship carrying the two frozen bodies of Frell and Drang levelled out from its almost vertical dive before dipping downwards at a more gentle angle. The secret base was ready for the new arrivals, forewarned there might be a plan in operation to rescue them in the near future. Security had been tightened and all human craft within several hundred miles of the base were being monitored and plotted for possible interception, should the Greys suspicions be alerted.

  The triangular ship was blacker than night with no outside indications to suggest which species it belonged to. It entered the water pointed nose first, the tremendous force field pushing the sea out of its way with an enormous splash. The field enabled the ship to travel extremely quickly through the water, in exactly the same way when journeying through space. The field’s energy produced no drag as the water molecules were swept to one side with a frictionless sweep, but it’s journey generated a powerful shockwave that surged through the sea for some considerable distance before waning. The ship moved silently and quickly, heading south towards the only Grey base left on Earth.

  There was a time when there had been several bases, but as the human population expanded with technological advancements leaping ahead, the bases had to be shutdown. All traces of another existence were removed. Exactly the same procedure had to be carried out on the moon and Mars in later years. One such base on Earth had been prematurely destroyed by the forces of nature; a tragedy of unequalled proportions. The destroyed base was situated close to the centre of the Atlantic, an island thought to be so far from the continents that bordered the ocean it would be safe and inaccessible to humans for many centuries. The mid-Atlantic ridge had ripped itself apart with a suddenness that was completely unexpected, with eruptions exploding from a long line of undersea volcanoes. The blasts tore the heart from the island’s foundations, forcing it to sink to the ocean’s murky depths as it broke apart. The end product was a small island group called the Azores. A fable had grown from the mid-Atlantic island’s disappearance, with the tale becoming one of the oldest mysteries to question and stretch many human minds and imaginations. Atlantis was gone but not forgotten.

  The ship continued its journey through freezing cold and salty seawater. The surge didn’t show at the surface but could be felt beneath the waves. A migrating school of whales just happened to be within range of the surge as the speeding ship passed by. The family’s lengthy and melodic communicating calls were punctuated by the painful and dying cry from one of the males. His blubber-lined and krill filled belly was split wide open as the force hit him square on. The sharp edge of energy had punched a gaping hole along the whale’s body length, slashing his heart out with the force of a thousand sharp knives. The surrounding water turned red in an instant and the cry of pain lasted only seconds, fading to a quick silence with the certainty of death. The unconcerned ship continued to push its way forward and deeper towards its goal, well aware and uncaring of the chaos created by its lethal progress. The base was monitoring the ship’s movement and was ready for its timed arrival. All visiting species knew that whales were extremely intelligent, although limited in their physical capabilities by their bulk and lack of manipulator limbs. Evolution had indeed been cruel to such an intelligent animal, especially when they could have done much more to help themselves and others, if only they could communicate. Their calls for mercy to the whaling ships always went unheeded. The little two-legged creatures that lived on the backs of the floating noisy islands completely ignored their pleas for clemency. This was how they saw humankind, as an animal species that wasn’t bothered or hindered by the terrible pain and the suffering they caused. All of this made whales fear for their safety, their lives, their children and their questionable future.

  The arrival of the cryogenic prisoners was expected soon, with two cells prepared for their arrival. Two human corpses were ejected into the ocean’s depths to make room for the two new arrivals; humans would never know of their sad demise. Hungry fish would not be long in devouring the squalid flesh and the cold seawater would quickly dissolve the bones. The Greys had never shown any respect for the bodies of those they had kidnapped, and they never would. The two ejected individuals were originally lifted from a ship named, The Marie Celeste, a brigantine trader and frequent traveller across the Atlantic. It was another of those famous mysteries, where the ship was found in full sail without a crew; even the ship’s cat was missing. The Greys had taken every living thing for their own purposeful ends, including the rats. The cargo was intact, every last bale of cotton and barrel of illicit brandy and whiskey was accounted for. The dinner table was laid and the galley was cooking. The
ship wasn’t giving anything away and its secrets were never to be told… or guessed.

  The Grey ship approached its destination, a deep hollow in the plain of a submerged basin deep within an abyssal plain between the coasts of South America and Africa. The planet’s military alliances weren’t too active in this region so the comings and goings of extraterrestrial spacecraft wouldn’t normally be a risk.

  An encrusted and heavy door slid open with the course sound of grinding emanating from its sand-filled runners, lost in the engulfing pressure of the deep seawater. The door’s motion caused a cloud of red clay and sea-ooze to spread upwards like a murky explosion. The black ship gradually descended towards the seabed and the open entrance. The ship didn’t lose any momentum as it sped through the doorway into a chamber big enough to hold several large cathedrals. It came to an abrupt halt as it rotated, settling onto a cradle that rose to meet its underside, taking the ship’s weight as if it weighed nothing more than a feather.

  The chamber was pumped dry and vented before the ship’s large access door opened from its belly. Two capsules were lowered from the cargo deck, both covered in a fine layer of frost and ice. Each unit was carefully manoeuvred towards the cryogenic storage facility, where both would remain as bait for the Greys next intended victim. Scott couldn’t possibly imagine what horrors might await him as the two recently emptied spaces received their latest guests.

  Chapter eight

  Patricia unsteadily stepped through the door as it opened. She plucked her suit from its hook, briefly hesitating before wearing it. While resting with her back against the wall as her chest heaved in time to her breathing, she held the suit firmly in one hand. With one last and final deep breath, she released a long and wanting sigh, feeling the stress of the exhalation. Her mind was concentrating on Scott, with the imagined sensation of his strong grip and sexy movements firmly set and working within her postulating mind.