by Philip Elrod
Jim had no problem meeting women. He was tall and quite good-looking with dark hair and deep blue eyes. His athletic build and outgoing personality made him a high priority target for the ladies. Tonight was different. He needed to think about his assignment and try to decide how to proceed. Working on weekends was not unusual for the “grunts." And Jim Slater, in spite of his fancy title, knew full well that he was just that.
Jim ordered a draft beer and signaled the bartender that he’d like to be alone. The bartender smiled and nodded that he had gotten the message.
Jim Slater had just started his second beer when he noticed that the bartender was looking intently at someone who had just walked up. Jim turned just as the man spoke.
“Good evening, Dr. Slater, or may I call you Jim?”
Jim was more than surprised to see Tom, the old man from the mall, standing beside him. He quickly waved to the bartender that this was a friend.
This evening, he was dressed casually and wore a French beret. Always dapper, he looked like someone who belonged on the Riviera. In fact, his tan was even more pronounced, even in this dim light, and Jim wondered if he’d been spending some time in the sun. Tonight, he wore a softly colored scarf around his neck, tied cravat-style. The colorful swirling patterns were almost distracting. They seemed to be constantly changing. Jim decided that this was either an optical illusion or he shouldn’t have another beer.
Tom removed his beret and placed it on the bar and then he hopped on the stool next to Jim with surprising agility.
“Good evening, thanks for letting me join you.” He motioned for the bartender to take his order. “It’s no accident that I’m here. I came to help you with your new assignment from Mathew Walker.”
Jim almost choked on his beer. “I know that gossip travels fast in Washington, but this is ridiculous. How could you possibly know about my assignment? I only got it late this afternoon.”
Tom winked and smiled knowingly. Just then, the bartender returned with Tom’s drink, a Japanese beer. Strange order. thought Jim.
“I’ll explain,” said Tom. “But, first, let’s relax and finish our brews. Then, we can go somewhere private to talk. The information that I have for you is quite complicated. It will take a bit of time to tell you. And, of course, it’s also highly confidential.”
Jim thought for a moment before answering, “We can go over to my condo. It’s pretty close, and I can stop on the way and pick up some more beer.” He instantly wondered about his sanity in inviting this man, who was almost a stranger, to his home. Cities could be dangerous, and Washington was certainly no exception.
Tom nodded his agreement. It was as if he already knew that Jim would suggest going to his condominium.
They quickly finished their beers with little conversation. Jim was still most confused about the situation and kept trying to figure out how this old man could know about his assignment.
Jim picked up the tab and led the way to his car. Tom followed without uttering a single word.
Upon arrival at the liquor store, he hopped out and went in to buy a carton of beer. Since it was the weekend, he also picked up a couple of bottles of good California red wine and headed toward the checkout counter.
On the way to checkout, he noticed a shelf dedicated to single malt scotch. On a whim, he grabbed a bottle of Macallan. It was expensive and he usually only bought it for a special occasion.
Macallan always reminded him of a special celebration. He had just received his Rhodes scholarship and feeling more than generous, bought his first bottle and shared it with several of his Navy friends that evening. After many toasts and tall tales, the bottle was history, and the pride of the U.S. Navy had to resort to less costly means of achieving a buzz.
“What the hell, this is a special occasion—my first real assignment.” Tonight that bottle of that precious eighteen-year-old nectar of the gods just seemed to have his name on it. To hell with the price, he was facing possible disgrace if he made a mistake in his analysis of that weird, possibly alien object. Furthermore, this old man, Tom, had appeared suddenly and seemed to know all about his assignment. Surely, if he could ever justify a fine bottle of spirits, this would be the night. Besides, it might be his last opportunity for such an evening for a long time to come if things didn’t go well on his new assignment.
Back in the car, the old man spoke. “I notice that you got some Sam Adams. That’s one of my favorites. Seems like I remember that it’s your favorite, too.”
Jim said nothing. He was growing more than a little tired of his long-running joke. Tom just knew too much. Someone from the office must have given him all his inside info. But no, that was impossible. He had told no one about his call from Mathew Walker. Besides, how could this old man have known that he would be at the tavern? How did he know that his favorite beer was Sam Adams? They’d never had a drink together until now, and even at the bar, he had ordered a draft beer. Something was very, very strange here.
He was determined to get to the bottom of this tonight. He suspected that, shortly after their arrival at his condo, the doorbell would ring, and several of his prankster friends would burst in and admit to the trickery. Then, they would all sit back, have a few more beers, and end the evening with a toast to friendship.
But, what if it wasn’t a trick? What if the old man knew something about the object? He decided to keep playing the game for now, but very cautiously.
During the short drive to the condo, Jim made sure to warn Tom about Mitch and her rather unusual personality. He explained that there would probably be a very chilly reception, and she might take umbrage at a proffered friendly hand and decide to nip at it. Jim was positive that she would be in a very cranky mood because he had been gone so long this evening.
Jim parked the car, and they climbed the steps. After he had opened the door, he stood in front of Tom as a protective measure just in case Mitch might be in one of her royal snits. As expected, she met them at the door but, much to Jim’s astonishment; she wagged her tail and looked sweetly up at the tall stranger.
Jim went into the kitchen to put the beer in the refrigerator. He opened a couple and returned to the living room with them along with a couple of coasters, which he placed on the coffee table between them.
He saw an unbelievable sight; at least, it was unbelievable to him. The old man was sitting on the couch with Mitch beside him. He was gently caressing her ears.
Impossible!
“Good girl," he murmured softly. Mitch turned toward Jim, and he could swear that there was an impish smile on her little face.
Jim handed the old man one of the beers and took a seat opposite the sofa. He was still in shock at the sight of Mitch sitting on the sofa and being petted by a stranger.
Jim gathered his thoughts and decided that it was time to get some answers. It was obvious that Tom had sought him out from that first meeting on the mall. It was time for the truth, and he would accept nothing less than total honesty.
He leaned forward and looked directly into Tom’s innocent looking face. He was attempting to look very stern and authoritative but hardly succeeded. He had never been much good at acting and tonight was no exception.
“We came here to talk, so talk. I’m listening. This game, whatever it is, has gone on far too long, and we need to put a stop to it, now.”
Mitch, that little traitor, snuggled up next to the old man and went to sleep.
“Jim, forgive me. I know that you don’t have a clue as to what’s been going on. It’s time that I tell you everything but be prepared for a long and bumpy ride. You’re not going to want to believe me, but I can assure you that every word I am about to tell will be the truth.
“Your assignment was to research that foreign object that the Japanese and Chinese astronomers observed. It isn’t a hoax, and it isn’t an aberration. It is real. But, to understand what’s going on, I’m going to have to begin my story with a faraway planet named Mylea. My story will be long and complicated, m
aybe even frightening, but you must listen carefully. The future of millions may be hanging in the balance and I, along with your help, have the power to change the course of history.”
Jim sat there, mouth agape. That was certainly not what he had expected to hear. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to accept what this strange old man was telling him, yet a cold chill had begun to edge its way up along his spine.
The old man stared intently at Jim. The usual twinkle in his eyes was replaced by a piercing, steely aspect. The look was not threatening, but very serious.
He lowered his voice and began to tell the story of Mylea.
“Many thousands of years ago, Mylea was a planet situated in one of the rather small elliptical galaxies that make up what is called the ‘local group.’ These small galaxies surround the Milky Way, which, as you know, is our galaxy. This local group is composed of many small galaxies, and they are all within the gravitational effect of the Milky Way and in the process of merging with it.
“About twenty thousand years ago, Mylea’s galaxy began to merge with the Milky Way. That sort of thing regularly happens throughout the universe and is usually uneventful.
“Unfortunately for Mylea, this merger would be neither uneventful nor routine. A small black hole, possibly from another galaxy that had already merged with the Milky Way, was moving steadily toward Mylea’s sun. The ultimate result would be the utter destruction of Mylea.”
Tom continued his story for another hour. He told Jim of Tanaka’s grandiose plan to save Mylea by building the interstellar transporter. He described the colossal computer, Maxx, and his extraordinary accomplishments. He described the disappearance of the Mylean people during the epic voyage. He told of the MCM and the conundrum facing Maxx.
Finally, he got to the part about Maxx finding a potential solution on a small blue planet in an outer band of the galaxy, Earth. He described how Maxx had manipulated the DNA of this earthling and later had controlled his life while he sped to Earth from far away in the galaxy.
And lastly, to Jim’s total shock, he announced that he, Tom, was that unique individual that Maxx had come far across the galaxy to see.
With that revelation, Jim Slater stood up and went for the bottle of Macallan, saying, “Sir, I need a drink, and I need something stronger than beer. I hope you like Scotch Whisky.”
The old man responded, “All this talk has made me quite thirsty, as well. Let’s take a break and try that scotch. I used to drink it when I lived in Scotland. Great stuff. Nectar of the gods.”
Jim held the bottle toward the light to appreciate its golden amber color. Then, he opened it and took an appreciative sniff of the whiskey. Yes, indeed. It was just as he remembered it: earthy and rich; peaty. He poured a generous amount into two crystal glasses. No ice for this stuff. It was too good to dilute. He handed one of the glasses to the old man.
Tom raised his glass, “Go mbeannai’ Dia duit!”
“I thought that a Scottish toast would be quite appropriate. I learned it in the Highlands. It means, ‘May God bless you.’”
Jim raised his glass and touched Tom’s gently.
Mitch snorted slightly. Jim smiled as he looked at her. He was still incredulous at her behavior. Mitch the Bitch had suddenly become Mitch, the pussy cat. Somehow, it had brought Jim at least some relief. If the old man could tame Mitch the Bitch so completely and effortlessly, he had to be someone worthy of his trust. Maybe, just maybe, his tall tale wasn’t so tall after all.
The old man seemed to be reading his mind. “I can certainly understand your hesitancy to believe my story, but I have proof.” He slowly removed the uniquely colored scarf from his neck and handed it to Jim to examine. He explained that it had once been owned, and worn, by Tanaka and that it had been a gift to him by Maxx.
“Feel the material. Look at those colors. There’s nothing like this in the world. Wad it into a tight knot and then release it. You’ll be amazed.”
Jim did as he was told and squeezed the scarf as tightly as he could. He released it and it slowly, gently, returned to its original shape without a single wrinkle. He examined the colors closely and they, indeed, still seemed to be gently changing right before his eyes. He held it toward the light, and he could see through the gossamer fabric. It was weightless, like the whisper of the wind.
He nodded and handed the scarf back to Tom.
Tom leaned forward and looked straight into Jim’s eyes. “The only way that you could ever accept my story as real is for me to take you there. We will visit the interstellar transporter, and you can confirm that everything that I’ve told you is the absolute truth. And, of course, you will be able to gain first-hand information for your report to the president.”
Jim was silent. He had no idea of how he should respond. Tom had just told him a story that even Hollywood would reject as impossible. Had Tom had a break with reality? Was he hallucinating? His thoughts whirled around in his brain like dry leaves in a whirlwind.
Maybe he was the crazy one. Surely no sane person would have listened to such a fantastic story, even after a few beers. He could hardly dismiss the tale completely. After all, a strange object had been detected in the heavens, and he had been assigned the job of investigating the reports. It seemed that he would have to play along for the sake of his job at the very least.
“Tom, your story is beyond incredible, but I’ve known you long enough to believe that you’re an honest and truthful man. I can’t imagine why you’d make something like this up. What would be your motive? Help me out here, I’m totally confused.”
None of Jim’s education and training had prepared him for a situation like this. He had always assumed that almost every question was solvable through deductive reasoning. He was a mathematician and couldn’t embrace outlandish theories or wild ideas.
Just then, Mitch awoke and gave him a rather deadly look. She let out a low growl to emphasize that she needed her beauty sleep and that Jim and Tom were keeping her from it. She hopped down and stomped into the bedroom and jumped into her bed with an audible harrumph.
He thought of his boss, the self-important Mathew Walker, and wondered what he would think if he could be a fly on the wall of the condo. Unquestionably, he would probably be asked to resign immediately.
“Tom, your proposition is intriguing at the very least, but you can understand my apprehension. You’re planning to take me to some planet that’s hanging around our solar system. How do I know that you could, or would, ever bring me back home? I need some concrete assurances that you can pull off this wild escapade without getting us both killed.”
Tom smiled gently and nodded his understanding. “Your concerns are legitimate, but I can assure you that you shall be transported to, and from, Mylea safely. I can guarantee it. I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime. You are the only human, other than me, who will have traveled to what you call an ‘alien’ planet. Just imagine how that will affect your status as scientific advisor. You will stun all of Washington, all of the world in fact, with your report. After that, I think that you’ll surely be able to pick and choose your assignments instead of having menial tasks dumped on you.”
“Well, somehow I can hardly imagine that Walker will embrace me with open arms. He’s hardly open-minded. My report will probably be buried in some archive and will never see the light of day.”
Tom laughed, “Not to worry, old chap. I will provide you with positive proof of your trip. There will be no question of its authenticity. In fact, you may well become the hero of the day. Trust me on this, and I will only ask one very small favor in return.”
Now, Jim’s suspicions were aroused, and his brain went into a red alert status.
“I only ask that you deliver, personally, a letter from me to the president.”
Jim was perplexed and wondered to himself, What a strange request. What could that letter possibly hold? Why would the president even accept it? Besides, he could hardly remember the last time that he’d been in close pro
ximity to the man. How could he promise to deliver the letter as requested?
Suddenly, he surprised himself. He was bored with his job and wanted—no, needed—to do something mentally and physically challenging. His talents were being wasted, not to mention all his education and military training.
He extended his hand to the old man. “Sir, you have a deal.”
Chapter 11
Slater Visits Maxx
“Be Careful What You Wish For” - Old English Idiom
Tom had expected that there would be quite a lot more discussion before Jim agreed to visit Mylea.
He accepted Jim’s outstretched hand. “You’ve made the right choice. I promise that you won’t regret this. Now, let’s get down to business. When can you leave?”
“I can’t leave until Marjorie gets home. There’s no way that I could leave Mitch with anyone else. I can give her a call on her mobile and make sure that she’ll be available.”
Tom could hardly keep from chuckling aloud. “Yes, I understand that your sweet neighbor is having the time of her life in New York with her sister. They have tickets to the hottest show in town.”
Jim again was astonished. How could he have known about Marjorie’s trip?
“Don’t fret about Mitch. I would never think of leaving her here. It would be just too stressful for her delicate nervous system. Besides, can you imagine the price you’d have to pay when you get back? A sobering thought at best.
“She seems to have accepted me as a friend already, so I don’t think that there would be any problems if she just went with us. I’ll make sure that she is comfortable and has plenty of her favorite food on board for the trip. I think that she might just enjoy herself on our little adventure.”
Jim was quite surprised at the suggestion. Could there be an ulterior motive of some kind? Why in the world would Mitch be invited along? She did seem to be quite fond of the old man. Maybe he should just leave the decision up to her.