Time Will Tell

by Mary S. Palmer

  After some discussion and planning, they decided to let her go. There was no question at all that she would voluntarily return; they trusted her completely. The plan was agreed upon. As soon as it got dark, Mona would leave. With luck, she’d return before daylight, bringing all the food that she could carry. Hopefully, it would be enough to last a few days. It would buy them a little time, at least.

  Inside the Aliens’ ship, Torpi walked the floor. Their supplies ran low, too. Except their condition was critical. They were extremely low on pills — barely had enough to get through the day. In Rob’s presence he told the ship’s crew, “We must eliminate this man. He is of little use to us, and he’s using up pills we need for own survival. And even without him, I do not know how long we can exist. If any of you have ideas, tell me now.”

  One man spoke up. “I have a solution, but I would like to tell you in private.”

  The two left together for another part of the ship. Torpi came back, smiling with his arm around his cohort’s shoulder.

  “Parker, come with us,” he ordered.

  Rob didn’t move, so two men lifted him and brought him into the other area. Without advising him what they were doing, in seconds they put him to sleep. Rob didn’t know how long he slept or what was being done to him while he did. All he knew was that when he awakened, he felt totally exhausted.

  Looking up, he saw Torpi leaning over him. “Surgically, we have inserted something inside you that has the potential to kill you. Whether or not it does is entirely up to you. Listen closely. This is the plan: you will go out and bring food back. If you do as we say, we will remove this object upon your return. If you do not, you will die. So that you will know, double vision is one of the first symptoms of impending death. If that occurs, it may be too late to save you. Go now and return as quickly as possible — for your own sake.”

  Rob broke out in a cold sweat. For a few seconds, he could neither respond or attempt to rise. Whether it was because of what they’d done to him or from fear he didn’t know.

  Torpi frowned. Had they done too much? Since Rob’s survival was contingent upon his own, he called his men to administer to Rob. Whatever they did worked. In minutes after the “rub down,” they had Rob on his feet and feeling refreshed. He tried to talk, but the words just came out a slur. He wanted to tell them he didn’t know how he could get food without arousing suspicion. He was a reporter and people from the media would be out looking for him. But he didn’t get the chance; words just would not come.

  Torpi and his men got Rob to the door and they literally pushed him out.

  “By the time you get away from the ship, you will be able to talk. Obey our orders,” Torpi admonished.

  When Rob hit the ground, he knew his only chance for survival was to do as they said.

  He slogged through the soggy turf beneath his feet and pondered the difference between this and the last time he walked through these same woods. He was lost then, but now he might be lost forever. How he could do what was required? He wasn’t even sure he could find his way out of the woods. He hadn’t been able to do it before.

  At least they’d given him a flashlight. He could see where he was going this time. Still, his only chance would be to quickly find a store, try to act natural while making his purchase, then slip right back into the woods again. Money, he thought, I’ll need money.

  Oh, my God! he thought. How can I buy food? I don’t have any cash and I rushed out of my house so fast that I left my credit card stuck in my checkbook in my other pants. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to risk giving away my identity in case they’re looking for me and someone recognizes my name. In his wallet he found two one-dollar bills. Feeling the loose change in his pocket, he didn’t even bother to take it out and count it. By the size of the coins, he knew that at most he had about fifty cents. That wouldn’t buy enough for one meal. He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers and bewailed the problems piling on problems.

  What am I going to do? Die or not, he had to sit down for a moment to think. While he rested, he searched his body for scars. There were none. In fact, there was no visible marks anywhere. Scratching his chin, he wondered how that could be. Suppose this is all a ruse, he thought. I know they have some strange powers, but maybe they didn’t do anything at all to me. I have no scars. I see no sign of any incision. Could they have put something in my blood? What can I believe? In a gesture of desperation, he scratched through his hair and found nothing. Overcome with the fear of the unknown, he leapt from the spot to search for an exit from the woods.

  Back at the police station, Lt. Paul Ramundi chewed his cigar down to a nub. When Frank Dees came into his office, he bit off the tip of the fresh one he’d just put in his mouth. Spitting it out, he barked, “Look, Dees, I know it’s gotta be big stuff to bring you over here, but damn it all, man, don’t you get on my back, too.” His dark eyes glared to match his Italian temper. He tapped the end of his pencil on the desk. “I know two of your reporters are involved. Hell, your whole staff is involved, but has it occurred to you that those two might have run off together?”

  Dropping the pencil, he turned up open palms and continued. “Parker and Stewart’s disappearance might not have a damn thing to do with this other thing. You have no real tie-in. There may be no connection at all. Could be a coincidence, you know.”

  Frank let him finish. Then he told Ramundi, “You know damn good and well those two had no reason — ”

  Not being as courteous a listener as the editor, Ramundi interrupted. “Hold it. I don’t know anything — except what I read in the papers.”

  Ignoring the slur, Dees continued. “You know these things fit together. First Mona has a wreck in that gully. But she keeps going back. God knows what for — said she wanted to buy some property out there. Anyhow, Rob goes looking and he disappears, too. Something’s wrong. It’s weird.”

  “Sounds like you’re buying that U.F.O. story, Frank,” Paul interjected in a slightly friendlier tone.

  “I’m buying nothing. I’m reporting facts, you hear, just facts. But they can’t be denied. Mona’s gone. Her brand new car is left deserted on some God-forsaken road, and two men are mysteriously killed with no clues. Then Parker disappears.” He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair and slumped into a chair. “Look, Paul, something’s cockeyed and with very little to go on, I came here to get your help. How about filling me in on what you know?”

  While Dees anticipated an informative answer, the one he got was totally unsatisfactory. Ramundi lit his cigar, puffed on it for a minute, and sighed out smoke from his mouth and nostrils.

  “Nothing. We’ve uncovered nothing, and that’s the truth. Everybody, and I mean everybody, is on our back — people who claimed to see U.F.Os., the UPI and the AP, every member of the media in the entire city — make that county — and my superiors. When John Q. Public gripes, they want results. So far, we haven’t turned up as much as a rusty knife.”

  He shook his head in dismay. Leaning over the desk he put his hand on Dees’ shoulder. “Frank, I knew both of those policemen and their families — helped break Dan in, and Mahoney and I go back a long way. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to bring their killers to justice.” His voice trailed off at the end of that sentence.

  In a form of apology, Frank offered agreement. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Sometimes you wonder what it’s all about. We’re seasoned professionals, why can’t we figure it out, Paul? The answer’s got to be out there somewhere.”

  Dees rose to leave, but turned to add one statement. “If by any strange chance my two reporters are pulling some stunt and have left together, God help ’em if I ever get my hands on them. Oh, hell, if that were true, they probably don’t know anything at all about all this U.F.O. stuff. Either way, I guess this isn’t their fault.”

  Ramundi pulled at his ear. “Frank, for their sake and yours, I hope to God they have left together.” As Dees left his office, he muttered under his breath, “But that’s a chance in a mill
ion.”

  Back in the woods, Rob plodded back through the brush and trees, feeling like an animal about to be trapped. He could sympathize with the little creatures whose destiny it was to be caught and caged or, worse yet, caught and used as a fur coat. For the first time in his life, a fur coat, which always appeared to him as a thing of beauty used to adorn the shoulders of those who could afford it, became the ultimate example of cruelty to animals. Suppose someone decided to take a human hide to keep warm, how would that victim feel?

  Rob was being ridiculous and he knew it, but the mere thought of such a thing happening made him shudder. Besides, something had to occupy him while he struggled on his way. Better to think of a subject that would take his mind off his own problems. Still, the thought of an unknown object inside his body about to kill him was devastating. Not even knowing what or where was worse. If he could get to a doctor, would that help? What could he tell a doctor anyway? “Doc, something dangerous is somewhere inside me?” He could imagine the response that would bring. All of this was awful. He just kept tromping along, hoping he could make it back to that ship in time. First, he had to get food.

  That was one problem he’d solved. He’d decided that the only way to get food was to steal it. Nervously, Rob muttered plans to himself.

  Shoplifting shouldn’t be so hard. Millions of dollars of merchandise are stolen daily. I’ll just have to distract the clerk. I hope I can find a fast service store. They usually just have one clerk on duty. Maybe I can ask for something he’ll have to get from the cooler, then grab something fast. If I can just get away, I’ll make it. If I sneak off into the woods, I can be long gone before he notices that anything’s missing.

  Even though Rob had never stolen anything, the situation justified it. Oddly, the risk and the challenge excited him. The prospect of stealing went against his grain, but the alternative of dying was much less desirable. Right or wrong, it had to be done.

  Rob’s knowledge of the area was all but nonexistent. Had he passed a fast food store while driving down Airport Boulevard? It wasn’t important to pay attention on his drive out here, so he couldn’t remember. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of traffic. He had to be close to a highway — probably Airport Boulevard. Rob proceeded with caution as he hid behind the safety of the brush on the roadside. As he neared the sounds of moving automobiles, he knew this couldn’t be Airport Boulevard. That city artery would be more heavily traveled. It had to be another road, but which one? He was completely confused. The events of the past few days had disoriented him. To get his bearings, he stood behind a huge oak tree trunk and carefully listened. If a plane flew overhead, he could probably tell whether the airport was to his left or right by its pattern.

  Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. In just a few minutes, a plane flew over. From its direction, Rob could tell that it approached for a landing.

  So, he mused, I must be on Lingers Road. That means north is to my left. If I head south near the airport, I should find some kind of store. But where? He racked his brain to try to remember. Suddenly, it dawned on him. A little country store was just a short distance away. Rob stopped there for gas last winter and he remembered the place because there was an old wooden stove right in the center of the building, an anachronism. It struck him as funny because each time the storekeeper made a sale he had to walk around that pot-bellied stove to ring it up on his electric cash register. Rob recalled jokingly telling the proprietor, “Hey, man. You’ve got the best of both worlds, the old and the new.”

  “Yep,” the man replied pointing to the stove. “Old Bessie here works, too. Keeps me warm in the winter. See? It’s heating the place right now. I don’t have none of them sky-high fuel bills. Plenty o’ wood around here. When I need more,” he pointed to the wood stacked up next to the stove, “I jus’ go right out back and git all I want.”

  “What about summer?” Rob asked. “What do you do for cooling?”

  “That’s easier than winter, son. See that big window over yonder? Well, I just open her up, turn on my big, old fan and let her blow.”

  Rob could picture him now, linking his fingers into his belt loops or rubbing the stubble on his chin.

  “She’ll pull more air through here than any damn air conditioner you ever seen.”

  Before the old man could say any more, Rob heard a voice in the background. “Papa, you deaf? Come help me git this firewood into the store. You know I can’t kerry it by m’self.”

  “Papa” must have been a little deaf because Rob had to tell him twice what the old lady wanted.

  “Harumph,” he’d groaned. “She thinks I kin jus’ leave any old time. Don’t she know somebody might run off with the whole place while I’m gone?” He’d stomped out, leaving Rob alone to do just that if he chose.

  Now, that information might be useful. Rob sure hated to steal from that old man. He made a silent promise to return later and pay for whatever he took. It salved his conscience. With that thought, he saw the neon sign for Miller’s Market in the distance.

  As he reached the entrance, he was relieved to see a dim light still on inside. For all he knew, the place might have closed at dark. The old man looked as if he were working on a set of books when Rob entered. The thought of taking advantage of a struggling senior citizen who probably made more money for the U.S. Government than he did for himself gave Rob a guilty twinge. He almost left without accomplishing his mission.

  Looking over the top of his glasses, the storekeeper asked, “What kin I do ya for?”

  Rob detected no sign of recognition and was relieved. When he did not reply immediately, the man showed slight irritation.

  “Whatcha need, young man? We’re closed, but since I’m here anyways, I’ll hep ya.” Wearily he stood to wait on Rob.

  “I’m in a little bit of trouble, partner. My car broke down and my flashlight won’t work. If I could just borrow another light, I believe I could fix it. I think it’s just a loose battery cable.” As a reporter, the truth was important to him, so twisting it bothered Rob. Actually, though, he told the truth: his car was broken and his own flashlight didn’t work.

  Mr. Miller didn’t even question his story. “Well, suh, I don’t sell flashlights, but if you’ll just watch the store for a minute, I’ll go into the house and see if Mama can round one up.”

  What a break, thought Rob as he marveled at the gullibility of some people. Here was a man asking a perfect stranger to “watch the store.” It was ironic. Rob felt extremely guilty as he piled groceries into the biggest brown bag he could find with all the staples he could stuff into it. While he hurried and scurried about, vowing to repay double the worth of these groceries, he found himself taking the least expensive items and only what he felt they’d need to survive. It didn’t take long to fill up a couple of bags, which was all he could carry.

  He stopped short when her heard the old man shuffling along, coming back in his direction. Rob snatched up both bags and hustled out of the door. By the time Miller came looking for him, he darted into the woods. Feeling he’d reached a safe spot, Rob sat down on the grass to catch his breath and to make sure he took the right way back to the ship.

  Guilt made him edgy. Wow, he thought, that’s a drag. There must be an easier way to make a living. Realizing that he’d just joined the ranks of the criminal element of society, he added a personal observation. If this is what a life of crime is like, they can have it.

  Chapter 7

  THE WOOD WERE FULL of sounds of all kinds by the time Mona got into the thicket. A little wild rabbit darted across her path. Thinking it was a rat, she let out a yelp. Shining her flashlight reserved for emergencies, she saw that the animal was too large to be a rat and recognized it for what it was. She looked around. No signs of light or life, so nobody heard her scream.

  Mona had been in many compromising positions in her life, but never before had she been alone at night in an area so far removed from other human beings. She’d tried to hold on to Pep, but he
’d gotten away from her. The woods seemed formidable. This was different from the trips bringing food to the space ship occupants. They knew she was coming and looked out for her. But now she was all alone. This was strange.

  Before she walked very far, many worries plagued her. Even the name of the nearby road seemed ominous — Wolf Road. Did that mean wolves inhabited the area? So many things went through her mind. How could she find her way? How far away was civilization? Where was the nearest main thoroughfare? She was so turned around that she could be going in circles. Nothing looked familiar. Furthermore, if and when she did reach a populated area, then what? What would she do?

  Unlike Rob, however, Mona had money. Since she’d been buying groceries for the Svarians, she always had a couple of twenties tucked away in her purse. She’d left her pocketbook behind; it was too bundlesome to bother with, but she’d placed one of those bills safely in her shoe. Now, she had to find a place to spend the money. Where would it be?

  A long, low howl made her crouch behind a tree. What was that? A wolf? No, it sounded more like a big dog. Mona consoled herself with the hope that if it were a dog, then people were nearby, too. She dreamed up a new worry. Suppose he’s not on a chain? He may bite me, she thought. He sounds fierce. There were just too many problems to face. Mona decided that she’d have to pick and choose which ones she’d allow to take precedence.

  The insignificance of past irritations came to mind, and she wondered how any of those things could have disturbed her in the least. One by one, they ran through her mind — the time she became upset over a run in her pantyhose, the phone ringing just as she stepped into the shower, and the most upsetting — her boss calling her for an assignment on her day off. How unimportant they seemed compared to her present situation. Oh, what I’d give to swap all those petty things combined just to get out of this mess, she thought. Yet, she knew that was impossible. If she could get out of this at all, it was going to be due to her own ingenuity. A cricket chirped right under her foot. Frogs hopped out of her way. A slithering black snake ignored her and followed the frog instead. Glancing at her watch, Mona saw that she’d already been out of the ship and wandering around these woods for almost half an hour. That was bad. She had to find the right track somehow. She’d moved in what she thought was one direction and should be close to the highway by now. But things hadn’t worked out that way. Listening for noises, she heard animals and wind whistling through the trees, nothing else. Would she ever get out? What would happen to her? Would Pep come back? Would she ever see him again? She sat down on a log and began to cry softly.