Collision

by John Williamson

  “But strictly speaking sir, even if the US Government could persuade the Brits to let us examine it, any information would belong to two governments; not DT.”

  “Don’t worry about that; the President owes me big time for funding his last campaign; and that craft has cost me $20 billion already. I don’t care what you do or who you pay off to get access to that technology; I want it. You’re not long away from retirement, are you? I suspect an incentive of say twenty-million dollars would go a long way to meeting your retirement needs, wouldn’t it? Get me that technology and you can have your retirement fund now.”

  “But I couldn’t accept money sir. It wouldn’t be… legal.”

  “Don’t worry, once you retire there are dozens of ways of making it legal, and I have hoards of lawyers to make sure it happens. What do you say?”

  “Well, the President has given me considerable latitude to help you, and supporting DT would be supporting the national interest; so okay.”

  “Just don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t sir.”

  “Then we’re finished for now.”

  The General turned and walked out of the room.

  That was unexpected, the General thought. Just as well he chose Jean Daniels for this project. She would carry his orders without question, as though they had come from the President himself.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Elle thanked the truck driver and jumped down from the cab. She was in a local high street shopping area; the type she had seen in archives of history videos. After a sleepless night in an all-night service station, she felt tired and irritable. She walked down the high street looking in the shop windows. As she passed by a local store that displayed newspapers, she saw the date on the newspaper: Monday 11 July 2011. The computer had already told her the date and year, but it was still difficult to comprehend that she was in a time thirty-five years in her past.

  Ahead of her she saw the shop she was looking for that the truck driver had told her about. It was a grubby little shop. Only the three hanging balls over the doorway gave any clue as to the nature of the shop. Elle opened the door and a bell rang. The shop stank of stale tobacco and was full of goods of all descriptions. The more valuable items, mainly jewellery, were stored in display cabinets with toughened glass and locked with large padlocks. The man at the counter reminded her of Fagin from Oliver Twist. He was watching a television screen playing some X-rated porn movie.

  Elle went up to the counter.

  “I need some cash,” she said.

  His eyes didn’t leave the screen. “What ‘ave you got.”

  Elle put two diamond stud platinum earrings on the counter. He picked them up and looked at them through a spyglass.

  She turned away from the television so it was not in her line of sight; but she could still hear the moans and groans from the actors. It was obvious what they were doing. Elle waited as he examined the earrings.

  “Not bad. How much do you need?”

  “A hundred pounds,” she said.

  He grunted a laugh. “Forty is the best you’ll get here.”

  “I need more than that.”

  “So you’re desperate. What about the wedding ring?” She did not see him look in her direction, but he obviously noticed it.

  “That’s my mother’s ring. You’re not having that.” Elle thought about whether she was wasting her time. She only needed some loose cash until she could make other arrangements. She was already regretting coming into the shop.

  By now, the groaning from the sound track reached its climax.

  “Fifty and that’s my best offer.”

  “They’re worth a lot more than that,” she said.

  “Maybe they are. But that’s all I’m going to give you. Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless you give me some satisfaction. Like in the movie.”

  He came out from behind the counter and unzipped his fly.

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “Come on, do it like in the movie, and if you’re good I’ll give you the full hundred.”

  “I’m not that desperate. I’ll just take my earrings back and go.”

  “Too late now. There’s a redemption fee to pay. Come on. Don’t play all innocent with me. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

  “Keep away,” she said, “I warn you; I’ve done martial arts.”

  He sniggered. “Yeah, course you ‘ave.”

  He pressed a button, and she heard the buzz of a lock closing shut. It must be the shop door. Elle took a deep breath as he came towards her. She took half a step forward and kicked hard, catching him solidly in the groin. The man went speechless and grasped his testicles; his knees buckled, and he was gasping for air.

  “I tried to warn you,” she said. She walked past him and picked up her earrings.

  She reached for the button and pressed it. The lock released, and she turned to walk out of the shop.

  He tried to get up off his knees, and she grabbed his tie pulling it tight around his neck and pulled it down hard. He fell back down onto his knees.

  “I would stay down, if I were you. Next time I’ll cut them off,” she said.

  He looked up at her and she could see fear in his eyes. Good, perhaps he won’t try that stunt again with someone else.

  She walked past him and out of the door. Perhaps she had not studied martial arts, but she had studied dance; and a dance kick requires the same precision as a martial arts kick.

  “What now,” she said to her computer. “I still don’t have any cash.”

  “You need to get to a bank,” said the voice in her ear.

  “A bank? They just don’t give money away.”

  “Leave it to me.”

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” said Elle quietly while standing in front of the bank’s cashpoint machine. Her hand was trembling with fear as she held her bank card. She had never done anything illegal in her life. She would much prefer to face the creepy pawnbroker than facing the cashpoint machine and the impersonal security camera that was watching her.

  “No problem,” said CAI’s voice in her ear. “Just place your card in the machine, enter your security code, and I’ll do the rest.”

  Elle placed her own bank card in the slot and keyed in her security code. To her amazement, the system responded, by asking how much she wanted. She keyed in ‘£500’ and a few seconds later the notes appeared in the tray. After putting the money into her pocket, she moved away from the cash point as quickly as she could. She could not believe how easy it was.

  “How did you do that?” she said.

  “Oh, these antique systems are unbelievably easy to circumvent,” said the voice in her ear.

  “But I’ve never done anything like this before. I mean, illegal.”

  “You haven’t taken anything that you’re not entitled to. I made some money while I was in standby playing poker on the Internet. Not too much to be noticed; but more than enough to set up your account with the bank. The only thing you’re guilty of is some security hacking to set up your account.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Elle saw a taxi approaching and raised her arm. She wanted to get away as quickly as possible.

  The taxi pulled up.

  “Where do you want to go love?” said the cabby.

  “The university please,” she said, climbing into the cab. Now all she had to do was find somewhere to stay near the university; then try to persuade Doctor Ben Turner to help her.

  Jane was watching the breakfast television, while munching on some toast. A news reporter was giving a report from a beach location:

  “Last night hundreds of people reported sightings of a UFO over East Yorkshire.” The reporter chuckled to himself. “However, the sightings turned out to be nothing more than the test flight of a new military aircraft that got into difficulty and attempted a landing on a beach. The MOD has closed the beach while the debr
is is being removed for forensic testing.”

  The scene cut to reporter interviewing a representative from the MOD.

  “Mr James, can you confirm that there is no threat to public safety from this craft that has crashed?”

  “We are still in the process of a forensic inquiry into the cause of the crash, and the potential environmental effects it might have; but at this point, we are confident that it is unlikely to have any long-term effects on public health.”

  “Then there is some risk?” said the reporter.

  “There is always some potential risk when dealing with the high-tech polymers used in the construction of these vehicles. That’s why we have closed the beach. But no one should be concerned, unless they’ve come into direct contact with the craft.”

  Jane’s mobile phone rang, and she picked it up.

  “It’s me,” said Ben.

  “You dirty little stop out!” she said. “What were you doing last night?”

  “It wasn’t like that, Sis.”

  “Yeah, pull the other one.”

  “Look have you seen the news about that MOD crash?”

  “It’s on the telly now.”

  “Well, that’s where I was last night — on that beach. The military brought me here, wherever here is, and I’ve been here all night. They’re doing some medical tests on me, because of the biohazard, and I have to wait for the results.”

  “Poor you… When do you think they’ll let you out?”

  “They said sometime tonight.”

  “I might miss you then; I’m on call tonight at the Medical Centre —”

  The doorbell chimed.

  “I’m going to have to go; there’s someone at the door.”

  “Okay, talk to you later,” said Ben.

  Jane opened the door. Standing before her was an attractive young woman in her early twenties with pale blue eyes and long blonde hair, wearing a black Chinese-style tunic and black trousers.

  “Hi, I’m Elle. I’m looking for Doctor Turner?” she said.

  “Well, that’s me,” said Jane, as she tried to think why this woman was knocking on her door. Then Jane remembered — the previous day she had put an advert on the university website for a new flatmate.

  “But, but… you’re a woman,” said Elle.

  “I should hope so,” said Jane.

  “You’re a physicist?”

  “Oh, no that’s my brother; I’m a medical doctor. Is it my brother you want to see?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then I’m afraid he’s not here at the moment.”

  “Oh. Do you know when he will be back?”

  “He said he would be back late tonight… So you haven’t come here about the flat-sharing advert?”

  Elle’s eyes seemed to light up.

  “You’re looking for a flatmate to share with?”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought you were calling about.”

  “That’s fortunate,” said Elle, “I’m looking for a place to stay. Can I take a look?”

  “Sure, come on in.”

  Jane led her around the apartment. The front door led into a large reception room, with twin settees, a coffee table and TV. Jane looked around the room and cursed under her breath: a week’s supply of used newspapers and a pile of Ben’s laundry were left on the settee. And over in the corner of the room was Ben’s desk, which was littered with his books and papers. She had given up on reminding him to pull his weight in the tidying-up department. The other side of the room led into an open-plan kitchen. Four rooms led off the reception room: three bedrooms and the bathroom. Jane showed Elle the spare bedroom.

  “I’m sorry; it’s all a bit of a mess at the moment; but what do you think?” said Jane.

  “Oh, it’s perfect for what I want,” said Elle.

  “Good. Then why don’t you sit down and I’ll make coffee.”

  Elle sat down on the settee while Jane made coffee. Jane felt the need to make polite conversation, but she had already made up her mind about taking on this new flatmate. She needed the money and with another woman in the flat, perhaps she could whip Ben into shape.

  “Where’re you from?” said Jane.

  “Cambridge, and before that London.”

  “So what are you doing at the university?”

  “I’m doing some independent research and I was hoping to use the university facilities here. I had heard that your brother had worked in the same field, and I thought he might be able to help me.”

  “Well, at least you’ll have an interest in common.”

  There was a pause while Elle sipped her coffee.

  “Don’t you find it a bit strange sharing with your brother?” said Elle.

  “It is a bit,” said Jane. “Ben split up with his girlfriend about three months ago, and one of my previous flatmates got married, so he moved in on a temporary basis. I wasn’t expecting him to stay this long, but things have drifted on a bit. Does it bother you sharing in a mixed flat?”

  “No, we had mixed halls of residence when I was an undergraduate,” said Elle.

  “Well, if the sight of a man in his boxers at breakfast is too much for you to stomach, you might wish to reconsider,” said Jane. “We have a somewhat relaxed dress code around the flat.”

  “Don’t worry, it doesn’t bother me.”

  Good, Jane thought. “Okay, anything else you need to know.”

  “Are there any house rules I need to follow?”

  “Not really, you can do whatever you want provided it doesn’t annoy anyone else… I see you’re wearing a wedding ring. Are you married?” said Jane.

  “No. It’s my mother’s ring. My parents died when I was twelve; a car accident.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Jane.

  “No need to be. It was a long time ago.”

  “Have you a boyfriend, Elle?”

  “No. Too busy at the moment.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s the research. It takes up all my time… What about you?”

  “Oh, I have a boyfriend, Greg. He’s a medic with the army in Afghanistan. I don’t see him much; but we make up for it when he’s on leave.”

  “Anything else you want to know about me?”

  “Not really. You don’t do anything weird at all, do you?”

  “You mean apart from drugs, demonic rituals and group sex — no.”

  “Dam, I’ll have to cancel the bondage sessions on Thursday,” said Jane.

  They laughed together.

  “I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” said Jane.

  “Look, I shouldn’t say this, but I’m really, really desperate to find a place.”

  “It’s £300 per month. Is that okay with you?” said Jane.

  “I can give you cash now if you want? Or I can transfer the money into your account,” said Elle, pulling a tablet computer out of her bag.

  “There’s no rush. Let’s try it out for the first month and see how we all get on together. I mean you haven’t even met Ben yet.”

  “He’s not an axe murderer or anything?”

  “No, he’s just a typical male.”

  “Let me guess. Principal interests are sex, beer and football?”

  “You’ve met him.”

  “Don’t worry I know the type. I’m sure we’ll get along… When can I move in?”

  “Right now, if you want.”

  “Good, I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Be my guest… Oh, one small thing,” said Jane, “the lock on the bathroom is broken. Just hang the ‘don’t disturb’ sign, on the door handle, and you won’t be disturbed. It’s on the inside of the door,” said Jane.

  “I will,” said Elle, heading towards the bathroom.

  “What about your stuff?” said Jane.

  “This is all I’ve got,” said Elle, patting her rucksack. “I travel light.”

  As Elle disappeared into the bathroom, Jane wondered if she had done the right thing, but she found Elle so easy to get on with. She
liked her. But would Ben?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “So can I interview the witnesses?” said Daniels.

  “Okay,” said the Major. “I suggest you tackle the dog man. He saw the most, but he’s probably the most unreliable.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He claims he saw a cat woman; and he’s the one who took the photograph I showed you. But he’s a bit of a UFO geek. We’ve already interviewed him; but you’re welcome to speak to him.”

  Five minutes later, Daniels opened the door to the interview room. Inside was an over-weight and balding middle-aged man with spectacles, sitting at a table looking rather bored and dejected.

  “Who are you,” he said.

  “Hi, I’m Daniels. If you don’t mind, I would like to ask you some questions.”

  “More questions?” he said, with a sigh. “I’ve told your people everything I know. Hey, aren’t you an American?”

  “Yes that’s right; I am. I’m working with the UK government. I know it’s a pain going over it again, but could you please tell me in your own words what happened last night.”

  He shook his head from side to side, “I really haven’t got time for this.”

  Daniels expression changed in a flash: her smile turned to a grimace, and her eyes bore into his. In a split second, she had covered the distance between them, thrown aside the table in front of him, and grabbed him by the throat. She pulled him away from the chair he was sitting on and slammed him against the wall. While her right hand held his throat in a vice-like grip, her left hand got hold of his testicles.

  “Ahh…” he screamed, until her grip choked off his noise.

  “I’ve tried to be nice to you; but if you want to do it the hard way, it’s your choice. But either way, you’re going to tell me what happened last night.”

  “Please, please,” he said, “I’ll tell you.”

  She let go of him. “Sit down.”

  He sat down; his hands were shaking.

  “So tell me,” she said.