Space Scout - The Peacekeepers

by S A Pavli

  It was a warm late spring day and I was invited to dinner at a friends house. I was an only child, my parents had separated and I had been raised by my mother, who had re-married and moved abroad, so I had no family in London. But I had a circle of good friends, some ex-school chums and acquaintances. Colleagues from the SES, like my fellow Captains Tim and Alain would also contact me when they were in London. A regular supply of girl friends also ensured that I had a busy social life.

  My invite this evening was from a couple of married ex school chums with whom we would occasionally share a meal and a few bottles of wine. I was standing at the door about to leave the flat when the doorbell chimed. I opened the door without looking at the view screen to find a female figure standing to the door with her back to me. Tall, long black hair, tiny waist and shapely figure wearing a business suit, waistcoat and short skirt. She turned and I jerked back in shock. She was the image of Manera. No dammit, she was Manera! But how could she be here?

  I realised that I was gaping at her with my mouth hanging open.

  “Hello mister Earthman. So this is where you live.” That musical voice was the one I remembered.

  “Manera! God’s sake, is it really you?”

  “Have you forgotten me already.” She came into my arms and we kissed. It was a perfunctory kiss because she pushed me away.

  “What… how?” I began but she interrupted me.

  “I’ve come a long way and I need the toilet.”

  “I’ll say you’ve come a long way!” I laughed and ushered her into the apartment. I pointed to the toilet door and with a look of comical urgency she ran across the room, dropping her heavy shoulder bag onto the settee as she passed it.

  I waited for her to come out, my mind buzzing with thoughts. I was delighted to see her of course, but, how had she got here? The Hianja could not have discovered Earth already surely? Unless….

  I groaned at the thought, and suddenly the admiral’s words came back to me. “…. you may have been compromised.” More than that, duped, used. Surely not?. I did not believe it.

  When she came out my guts turned at the sight of her beauty. She looked at my face and paused.

  “Darling, what’s the matter?”

  “How did you get here Manera?”

  “We did not hear from Earth about contact. We wondered why.”

  “Yes, but how did you know where the Earth is? And how did you travel here without being detected?”

  “You think I have been lying to you?” She looked hurt, her eyes huge.

  “Maybe not you. But others have used us both?” I spoke hopefully and she sighed.

  “I understand. Paul, we were able to follow your Hyperspace trail to Earth.”

  “I didn’t know you had such technology.”

  “Neither did I. The Peacekeepers informed us that they knew Earth’s location after you failed to make contact.”

  “The Peacekeepers?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I suppose they had the technology to transport you here?”

  “Yes. One of their fighters. They have a sort of cloaking technology. It absorbs and dissipates radar. We came in using the AG drive over the ocean and landed in an uninhabited location. I’ve travelled six hundred miles from northern Scotland to get here.”

  “Jesus Christ Manera, how did you do that?”

  “I caught a train of course.”

  “What did you do for money?”

  “I sold some jewellery. Most lucrative. They loved it, told me that they had never seen jewellery like it before and if I had more they would buy it.” The sheer effrontery of it left me speechless.

  “But Manera, why did you come?” She looked dejected.

  “You are not happy to see me?”

  “I am baby, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. I am just shocked to see you. And, where did you get those clothes? You look like a business secretary from the twentieth century.”

  “I saw an Earth movie. Perhaps it was an old one?” I laughed.

  “Perhaps it was. But you look gorgeous. Bloody gorgeous baby. Come here.”

  Some time later I remembered that I had been invited to dinner by my friends and sent them a message that I was unwell. We sat on the veranda and enjoyed the night view over the park with a couple of cocktails.

  “Why did you come Manera? You never answered my question.”

  “Because I love you and can’t live without you of course.”

  “Well, that goes without saying.” I gave her a smug smile. She dimpled and batted eyelashes at me. Funny, the Hianja didn’t have eyebrows, but they did have eyelashes. Manera’s were particularly long and she fluttered them demurely.

  “I volunteered,” she continued, “to find out why Humans have not contacted us.

  “It’s those bloody military machines, the Peacekeepers,” I said. She shook her head questioningly. “The military are afraid that they are a threat.”

  “They are called the Peacekeepers for a reason,” she said, giving me a knowing look.

  “Yeah, I get that, but they are also uncontrolled AI with fearsome military weapons. They may decide that Humans are a threat. Don’t forget what they did to the dissidents.”

  “Yes I see.” She looked thoughtful. “And they are so concerned that they do not want to proceed with contact?”

  “Yeah, bloody paranoid I know, but that’s the military for you.”

  “I’m not sure they are being paranoid Paul,” she said. I remembered how the leader of the Hianja Guardian Council had tried, unconvincingly, to persuade us, and himself, that the Peacekeepers were not a threat. I thought at the time that he had looked like a man holding the proverbial tiger by the tail.

  “At least, these things are not a threat to the Hianja,” I pointed out. “They are programmed to defend your civilisation.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think we want them telling us who our friends should be,” she said. I grinned at the thought of a bunch of over-protective machines laying the law down.

  “Yeah, they’d warn you off me for sure.”

  “You are definitely not what my parents had in mind for me,” she agreed.

  “Hey, I’m a man with prospects if you don’t mind. Well I was, before the bloody Peacekeepers came along.”

  “Was you looking forward to becoming rich and famous?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Yes, but mostly looking forward to seeing you again my Hianja Princess.”

  “Well, you have half your wish.”

  “And that’s completely unexpected.” At that moment the comms unit in the living room buzzed and the screen lit up to display my school friends that I had been meeting up with.

  “Paul where are you man? We got your message and wondered what was wrong with you?” This was Derek who was an engineer, tough as nails but a dedicated family man. His wife Christine was a data librarian, a tall motherly red head. Brian was a detective, average height, mousy hair, grey eyed and intense, his wife Rita a blue eyed blonde, always had a ready laugh. They were probably the closest thing to a family that I could claim to possess. I turned and the camera picked up the noise and focused on us on the veranda.

  “Oh yes, I can see how sick you are!” They spotted Manera next to me and there was a wave of laughter.

  “Who’s your date.”

  “You should have brought her over.”

  “Ah sorry guys. This is … er … Melissa. She popped around unexpectedly.” Manera stood and gave them a Japanese bow. I cleared my throat quickly. “Er, she’s from Japan.”

  “Melissa from Japan. Jolly good, nice to meet you Melissa.”

  “Hey Paul, she’s beautiful even by your standards.”

  “Uh, thanks chaps, listen can I call you tomorrow.”

  “No worries Paul. See you.” There was a chorus of amused good bye’s and the screen went black.

  “Why am I from Japan?” asked Manera.

  “Ah well, only the Japanese greet each other with a bow
. We just wave or say hello. Or shake hand when in the flesh.”

  “Oh sorry, I didn’t know that. I thought all humans either shake hands or bow, I’ve been bowing to everyone from Scotland to here.” We both laughed and I shook my head in bemusement.

  “Manera, just the thought that you can land in Scotland in a space ship and make your way here completely un-noticed is utterly unbelievable.”

  “But Paul, I look so Human. Especially with my new eyebrows.” She pointed to the dainty eyebrows which she now sported. “Hianja cosmetic surgery.”

  “Mmm, I’m getting suspicious now. Is everything else natural?”

  “Would you like to find out?” she asked archly.

  “I think a very close examination may be necessary.”

  Chapter 7

  It didn’t occur to me until the next day that my apartment may be bugged. I asked Manera how she planned to leave Earth and she showed me the contents of her heavy shoulder bag, which contained, among other mysterious devices, a compact microwave transmitter. I asked her if it would not be detected and she explained that it transmitted a compressed digital signal that would be meaningless to anyone should it be picked up. She had to point the aerial in a very precise location.

  “Quite the little Mata Hari aren’t you,” I remarked, then had to explain who Mata Hari was, and the whole concept of a spy. She thought this was delightfully glamorous and I had to promise to dig up a few spy films for her to enjoy.

  But this then triggered the alarming thought that the apartment may have been bugged. I expected any minute to have a bunch of black suited SAS types swinging on ropes and crashing through my patio doors or diving off helicopters to surround the building. Been watching too many action movies mate I chided myself. Nevertheless it was a distinct possibility and we carried out a search of the apartment without finding anything, although we were not sure what to look for.

  Whatever the situation, it was apparent that we had to urgently consider and decide on our future course of action.

  “When must you return?” I asked Manera.

  “That’s up to me but obviously they are waiting for an answer. I should return and tell them what you have told me.” It was morning of the next day and we had showered, dressed and had breakfast and were loitering over our second coffee.

  “Why not stay awhile?” I asked. “I could show you London. It is an ancient and beautiful city.”

  She smiled. affectionately.

  “I’d love that but the longer I stay the more chance that I will be detected.”

  “Then I’ll come with you.” I said that without any thought and she paused and gave me a long serious look.

  “Are you sure? You have friends, family and a life here.”

  “Yes and I will miss them. But I’ll have you. And a whole new world, lots of worlds to explore.” She looked doubtful and I took her hands in mine.

  “I can’t stay here knowing what I know. And when the truth comes out I will be part of the worst conspiracy ever. I don’t want that. What do you say?” She smiled and looked smug.

  “Of course I knew you would want to return with me.” I laughed and leant across the table to deliver a long kiss to which she responded enthusiastically.

  “When shall we leave?” I asked.

  “Whenever you are ready,” she replied. I nodded.

  “Okay, I have to say goodbye to my school friends, and my mother and decide what to pack.”

  “Travel light. We have a long walk cross country to the pick up location.”

  “Right, I’ll call my friends now and we can see them this evening and leave tomorrow. Shall I book tickets on the railway or shall we fly?”

  “I couldn’t fly because they need to see identification,” she explained.

  “High speed rail it is then. I‘ll book tickets for tomorrow morning. Come on, let’s get dressed and I will take you out and show you London.”

  I would never have thought that showing someone around my home town would give me so much pleasure. It was perhaps Manera’s delight with everything that made it so pleasurable. For her it was a trip into a ancient and alien world with new sights and smells and odd looking people. The simple activities of sitting at a pavement café drinking coffee and watching the world go by, strolling through a market or watching the children play in the park were all new to her.

  “Our world is too mechanised,” she complained. “Menial jobs are all done by robots.” She was watching the waitress in the coffee bar skipping between the tables to serve customers. “Does she like her job?”

  “Every job has its good and bad bits,” I explained. “Our waitress probably enjoys working with people and the social aspects of her job, but complains about her sore feet at the end of the day.” the waitress passed our table and gave us a cheery smile.

  “She certainly seems to enjoy her job,” observed Manera.

  “She wants us to leave her a good tip,” I said with a grin. “But I’m sure she does,” I added, not to appear too cynical.

  A trip to some of the art galleries and museums impressed her with our culture and we got home late in the afternoon ready to put our feet up for a couple of hours before joining my school friends at a local restaurant for the evening.

  I tackled to onerous task of talking with my mother, which Manera observed with interest. Mother as always was happy to hear from me, then spent most of the time talking about what she was up to. I was happy to listen; talking about my life with mother would inevitably elicit comment and advice from her.

  “Mother, I may be away for a little while this time. Going on a long trip, but don’t worry about me, I’m as happy as the proverbial Larry, whoever he is.”

  “Yes dear, you just make sure to tell me when you get back and take care of yourself and find a nice young lady to look after you.”

  “Yes mum, love you mum. Bye for now.”

  “Bye darling, love you.” I disconnected and turned to Manera.

  “Well, you heard mum. Will you look after me?”

  “I’m not sure I qualify as a nice young lady.” she said. Hianja lived in excess of three hundred years and Manera was in her fifties which by Hianja standards made her almost a teenager.

  “I’ve always liked the older woman,” I said with wink.

  Later that evening we left to walk to the pub where we were meeting my friends. It was in the old part of town called Soho which for hundreds of years had been an entertainment area. It had been re-built many times but still retained the same character. The Old Mill was roomy and modern, the décor all brick and whitewash, with a large pair of milling stones and false water wheel in the lobby. It was all a bit obvious but the beer and food was good and it was quiet and roomy.

  My friends had arrived and acquired a table by the picture windows and they stood to greet us. I made the introductions and they studied Manera with interest. I had prepared a false persona for Manera, but I was hoping she would not be subjected to too much interrogation.

  The evening progressed nicely and I was able to divert the conversation from Manera when it became too difficult for her. Christine and Rita attempted to quiz her on life in Japan, which brought some very vague answers from Manera and I had to quickly rescue her. Derek always liked to question me on my Space trips, I think he was a frustrated astronaut, and I spent some time telling them about the planet where I had met Manera, which I had named Omorphia.

  “If it was Earth like then we should hear about it soon,” remarked Derek. “When it opens up for settlement.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, “But not for a while. They always send a full expedition, a number of them actually, to map the planet and explore it thoroughly. Don’t want any nasty surprises for our settlers, like deadly viruses or bacteria, fierce carnivores, poisonous insects etc.” I noticed that Brian was watching Manera, his grey eyes hooded. He was a senior Detective Inspector for the London Metropolitan Police and I knew he was good at his job.

  “Brian, any good cases recently
?” I asked.

  “Nah. Had a few domestics recently. God what is it about living together that drives people bonkers?” It was a rhetorical question and we all laughed.

  “Do you have a lot of crime?” asked Manera, then added quickly “…in London.”

  “Mostly commercial crime these days,” said Brian. “Theft, embezzlement, smuggling. And what one would call crimes of passion, like I said, domestic violence, people just losing it and doing stupid things. Pre-meditated violence is not common. There’s too much surveillance these days. Anything you do anywhere will be filmed by a surveillance camera somewhere.”

  “What do you think of London Melissa?” The question was from Christine.

  “Yes, how do the fashions compare?” Rita asked. She was a designer for a film company and had an eye for fashion. Fortunately I had bought Manera something more modern than her 20th century business outfit and I thought she looked very chic.

  “Um, London is wonderful,” Manera replied hesitantly. “More space than er… Tokyo. More parks.” We had prepared this and I knew that Manera, with her eidetic memory, would not forget.

  “Where did you get your outfit?” asked Rita.

  “Cousins on Oxford street,” I replied. “We went shopping this afternoon.”

  “They have nice fashions,” agreed Rita.

  “Yes, I liked their summer range,” said Manera.

  “Haven’t seen it yet, do tell,” said Rita enthusiastically. Manera launched into a detailed description from memory. After a couple of minutes I could see the two girls exchanging bemused glances.

  “Melissa has an eidetic memory,” I said, interrupting Manera’s flow. “If she wants to remember something….”

  “That’s fantastic,” said Derek. “God, I wish I could remember such detail. I’ve forgotten what I had for breakfast.”

  “It’s down the front of your shirt,” said Christine to laughter.

  “Think I’ll take a pee,” said Brian standing up.