by steve higgs
‘My mother taught me not to get into cars with strange men.’ He fell squarely into the strange category.
‘Nothing strange about me, love.’ This did nothing to modify my opinion.
‘Tell me what you found please.’
‘It will be better if I show you.’
‘Perhaps, but I am not going to see it unless you convince me that I should. Maybe we should start with your name. I’m Amanda.’
The man pulled out a camera. An expensive digital one with a telephoto zoom lens thingy on the front. I was no good with cameras, so I didn’t know what I was looking at, but it looked expensive.
‘Oh, err. Fred Carter.’ He said as if remembering himself. ‘I came here to capture images of the lights. I arrived a few days ago and have been moving around to find the best spot.’
‘Have you seen anything yet?’ I asked.
‘Oh yeah!' He replied with glee. ‘The aliens are here quite often. I think it is a reconnaissance mission ahead of an invasion.' He was fiddling with the camera as he talked. ‘Here it is.' He said, offering me the camera screen to look at. ‘I was a British Army Officer for many years, their movements represent a typical tactic before a big offensive.' He claimed knowingly. ‘Now that I have proof, the Ministry of Defence will have to listen to me.'
There were several pictures of a clearing in a wooded area. The grass in the clearing was scorched, a dozen equal sized circles evenly spaced to look exactly like something with twelve rocket engines had blasted off to the sky. I didn’t know what to make of it, however, I was curious enough to want to see it for myself. It could be nothing, but it felt connected to everything else that was going on here.
He started speaking again as I handed the camera back. ‘I found the site this morning. I have been trying to track the lights to see if they touch down anywhere. The Defence Secretary will want to know about their weapons, what they look like, whether they are armoured or have shields our weapons will not penetrate. I think the reason I have had so little luck tracking them to a landing site until now is that they have cloaking technology. The lights we see are nothing more than ion particles from the fuel dissipating in our atmosphere.'
Okay. So, the chap with the moustache was bat-shit crazy. I still wanted to see the landing site for myself.
‘I’ll follow you.’ I indicated my car.
He laughed. ‘You won’t get that anywhere near the site, love. It’s cross country most of the way.’ He was waiting for me to get in the car with him. It was not an appealing choice but if he planned to attack me, I had dealt with worse.
‘Okay.' I conceded and went around to the passenger's door. Sliding in, I asked, ‘How do you know about me?'
‘It’s all over the news. A lady was shot by an alien with a freeze gun last night and an alien was seen at Brompton farm. I went there earlier today because the Supernatural Times ran a story on it.’
The Supernatural Times?
‘One of their reporters was there trying to get a story and she told me that there was a woman hired to investigate it all. I asked around and it wasn’t all that hard to track you down.’
I had yelled to be let in yesterday. The reporter must have been in the crowd of space nutters trying to get in to see the footprint.
Every Idiot They Could Find. Thursday, November 10th 1451hrs
I didn’t have to worry about making conversation with Fred while I was trapped in his car being taken into a wood because he wouldn’t shut up. The journey took less than fifteen minutes but felt longer because we were going slow most of the way. He wasn’t lying about it being cross country. He had the Land Rover in crawler gear half the way because the tracks were slick with mud after the recent heavy rain. He prattled on about alien invasion theories, about government conspiracy to cover up previous alien contact and how there was an entire branch of the Ministry of Defence that was dedicated to alien invasion preparedness.
‘That was why they kicked me out of the Army, you know.’ He said at one point, finally eliciting a response from me.
‘What was?’ I asked to fill the brief silence.
‘I found out about BARF. BARF is the British Alien Response Force, a secret branch of the MOD that monitors and makes ready for repelling alien invasion when it comes. I tried to join them. Put in my papers six times and they kept writing back saying I had it wrong and there was no such branch. I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t want me to join their ranks. I had an exemplary service record. I had deployed on numerous operational tours and I had combat experience. Instead, they said I was nuts and discharged me.’ His tone turned bitter as he spat out the final few words.
As we drove through the woods, I could see bright colours ahead of me. It looked like vehicles I was seeing between the trees.
‘Dammit.’ Fred swore from the driver’s seat.
Ten yards later I knew what he was getting upset about. There were others at the site already. Word had spread, or someone else had found it.
As we came into the clearing, there was a swarm of people. Jack Hammer, his cameraman Bob, and my Uncle Knobhead with the world’s biggest grin plastered to his face were all directly ahead of us. Jack was filming already, but there was another film crew just setting up to our left and two more to the right, one of which was a local television news channel.
Fred was muttering about the evidence being ruined by bloody amateurs as he climbed out his side of the car. Jack had seen the car coming but even when he saw me, he didn’t flinch from the flow of garbage he was spouting to the camera. He was in full presentation mode.
Uncle Knobhead also saw me, my presence distracting him from what he was supposed to be doing. He began to hurry across the clearing in my direction.
‘Cut.’ Yelled Jack. ‘Norbert, I told you, you have to stay on your mark. The camera was just about to pan to bring you into the shot. Then we get to talk about your encounter with the aliens.’ Jack sounded frustrated, an emotion often associated with my Uncle.
‘Sorry, Jack.’ My Uncle replied.
‘Okay, let’s take five. We have visitors it would seem and, dare I say, a fan?’ The question was aimed at Fred who was advancing towards Jack with a determined gait.
‘A fan? A fan of what?’
Jack didn’t know what to make of the response as if it were implausible that Fred not know who he was.
‘Look, never mind whatever nonsense you are doing here. This is an important military site and I must ask you to leave.’ Fred cupped his hands around his mouth to make his voice heard. ‘Everyone stop what you are doing. BARF will be here shortly to secure this site. You are contaminating the evidence they will need to help identify where the aliens will attack.’
There was a pause, then three different camera teams tried to get to him first, all shoving microphones in his face.
‘No, no. You don’t understand. You need to leave.’ I could hear him getting ever more frustrated as the reporters tried to ask him questions.
‘How did you find us? Uncle Knobhead asked me. He had completed his trek across the clearing to where I was inspecting the nearest of the scorch marks.
Without looking up, I indicated Fred. He was now arguing with the reporters about sovereign rights to any evidence found at the scene. I was certain they would soon determine that he was just mental and not of interest.
‘Isn't this exciting?' Uncle asked. ‘Real aliens and I am going to be on Alien Quest with Jack Hammer interviewing me.'
I decided the question was rhetorical and continued with what I was doing. The grass was burnt completely away, right down to the soil beneath and it formed a perfect circle. I wanted to measure it but had nothing with me that I could use. Tempest would have produced a tape measure from his bag, the thought causing a mental note to carry more stuff in future. I thought about what I did have in my pockets. The answer was nothing much, but a pack of disposable tissues allowed me to scrape up some soil and wrap it into a little pouch. I shoved the remaining tissues into my
pocket and used the plastic wrapper they came in to stow the tissue containing the soil.
It smelled vaguely of petrol or something similar. I was going to get it analysed.
I stood up. Fred was arguing with the camera crews and trying to wrestle a tripod from the hands of a man twice his size. When he gave up and looked like he might try his luck with the gear a petite woman was holding instead, I intervened.
‘Fred, I have seen enough. Please take me back to my car.’
He glowered at the reporters for a moment before allowing his gaze to flick down to meet my eyes. I smiled at him which was thankfully enough to erode his resolve. His shoulders slumped slightly, the excitement passing.
‘You will all have your footage confiscated by BARF before the day is out. Mark my words.’ He warned them all. No one paid him any attention.
‘Would you not rather stay with us?’ Asked Uncle Knobhead. ‘Jack says this episode will be the best ever and will get more views than ever.’ I glanced across to where my Uncle was stood. Next to him, but facing away to the distance, Jack was whispering instructions while pretending to be doing no such thing. It wouldn’t have fooled a five-year-old. ‘I bet the show would be even more popular with a…’ he paused while listening to the next whispered line, ‘an attractive female co-host.’ Another pause. ‘One that would give gravitas to the content and compliment the male host’s magnetic personality.’
He lapsed into silence. Jack turned around so he was facing me now and hit with a smile full of teeth.
Good grief.
‘Now, Fred.’ I insisted.
Fred looked confused by my exchange with Uncle Knobhead but shrugged his shoulders and trudged back to the car behind me. As I got to the passenger’s door, a glint in the foliage to my right caught my eye.
Fred was climbing into the car, so didn't see me wander off. The engine came on as I bent down to see what it was that I had seen. In the grass, mostly concealed, was an odd-looking piece of metal. Made from an alloy of some kind, the object was about seven inches long and round but bent twice along its length. It was perfectly smooth and had a bulbous knob at one end and tapered point at the other. About halfway along its length, a lug protruded with a small, perfectly round hole in it.
Whatever it was, it had not been there for long. I slipped it in my pocket and got into the car.
Stroppy Wife. Thursday, November 10th 1612hrs
Fred continued to mutter and moan about civilians trampling his evidence all the way back to my car. He was driving direct to Whitehall to find the Defence Minister right now he assured me as I got out of his car.
I had a question, ‘Fred, if I wanted to see the lights for myself, where would be the best place to go?’
That I had taken an interest instantly perked him up. He turned away and rooted around in the door bin to his right. Producing a map, he then did his best to flatten it out and fold it to show the bit he wanted.
‘There is a raised piece of land here.' He said while pointing to the map. Sure enough, there were contour lines depicting a small hill. On the map, it was labelled as Hogget's Hill. ‘From there, you can see all the way across the Thames Estuary to Essex on a clear night. If you want to see the lights, that's your best spot and you will find others there already. There is a stack of alien fanatics there every night, amateurs obviously.' He said proudly because he considered himself professional.
Professional nutter maybe.
‘They are camping there and discussing ridiculous conspiracy theories. None of them know about BARF of course, but they will soon enough when the troops arrive to repel the invaders.’
I thanked him for his help, wished him luck and was glad to wave him goodbye.
The sun was setting, soon it would be fully dark. Atop the steel-sided barn ahead of me a floodlight mounted on the eaves cast light down to illuminate the yard. The farm was strangely quiet, and I realised that for the first time I could not hear any cows. On previous visits, there had always been a continuous background mooing. Now it was absent.
I still needed a milk sample. Kieron had sent it for testing already, the results undefined but I had to question what the Health Ministry might have checked for. Simon and Steven at the crime lab could tell me more about it and I would be able to interrogate their findings.
I knocked on the door of the Farmhouse. As I waited for the door to be answered, I checked my phone. I had a text message from James:
Will you get back here before I finish? I have turned up a few things of interest.
I would call him shortly. Before I could though, noises came from behind the farmhouse door, the sound of someone approaching. Without responding to James’s question, I slipped the phone away. The door opened to reveal Kieron’s wife, Lara.
Her belly looked fit to burst and she seemed unhappy or displeased or some other negative emotion as she stood in the doorway looking at me without speaking.
‘Hi, we haven’t been properly introduced.’ I said as I smiled and put out my hand.
‘You’re Amanda Harper, the crappy fake detective that has fooled my idiot husband and is costing me money. I’m Lara and I don’t like you.’ She replied without taking my hand.
Righto.
I slowly lowered my hand. Her overt hostility didn't feel like it was genuinely aimed at me. She was angry about something else. Possibly she had been fighting with Kieron and I had offered a release point for her frustrations.
‘I’m sorry you feel like that. Do you believe that there is nothing odd going on here? How do you think the milk is getting contaminated?’
Lara eyed me for a second, then turned her back on me. ‘I already told you. There are aliens here. I saw one. It killed my friend, Tamara with a freeze gun.’ She turned away with a final comment. ‘I’ll send Kieron out.’ and she kicked the door shut in my face as she went. Her rudeness was surprising. I had to wonder what was motivating it.
A breeze blew across the yard, moving a few leaves around and making me cold. I was glad of the layers I had on today, they had kept me warm, and my feet were snug in my boots but my face and hands were cold.
I shoved my hands inside the sleeves of my coat to keep them warm. Thankfully, the door opened again a moment later and Kieron’s far more pleasant face appeared.
‘Hi, Amanda. Did Lara leave you outside?’ He asked. He looked a little shocked at the concept but I was sure he already knew the answer.
I didn’t have to respond, he ushered me inside where the warm air was ever so nice on my face.
‘I just came for the milk sample.’
‘Oh, yes. Well, come in for a moment while I fetch it from the fridge.’ I followed him through the house to the kitchen/living area I had been in yesterday. Lara was there, but upon seeing me she turned and hurried through a door to vanish from sight. She had something to say as she went though, ‘I told you to sell.’ Echoed back through the doorway.
‘Why does she want you to sell?’ I asked.
‘Farming is a tough but rewarding life. I don’t think she expected it to be as hard as it is and I had to borrow a lot of money to set this place up. She has been questioning whether we ought to sell and do something else since I met her.’
‘She married you though?’
‘She did, but it was a whirlwind romance so she didn’t get to see what farming was like and next thing we knew she was pregnant.’ Somewhere, deeper in the house, a door slammed. Kieron sighed. ‘Sorry about Lara. I don’t know what is wrong with her recently.’
‘It’s fine.’ I started saying.
‘No, I think it is just the late stages of the pregnancy. She is uncomfortable and swollen, I get that, but it is one thing to take it out on me but she seems to be aiming her malice at everyone. The baby is due any day, it will be a relief to everyone, I'm sure. Honestly, I expected her to be happy. We were talking about kids from the first date. It was all she wanted and…' he tailed off.
‘Go on.’ I prompted.
His cheeks coloured
. ‘Well, she was very keen to get on with the process of getting pregnant. Let’s put it that way.’
What I read from that was, she was ripping her knickers off minutes after meeting him but had then gone on to marry him so perhaps she just knew she had met the right man. I couldn’t think of anything to say so I stayed quiet. He sighed again. ‘Sorry, I’ll get the milk.’
He went through the same door Lara had escaped through to return five seconds later holding a large mason jar full of white liquid. It looked like milk if I ignored the soft green glow coming from it.
I thanked him and reassured him that I would get to the bottom of the mystery. Leaving the farmhouse a few minutes later, I regretted the statement. I had no idea what was going on. Why would I tell him I was going to solve the case?
Sensing that I was wallowing in self-doubt, I called James.
His deep voice came on the line. ‘Hi, Amanda.’
‘Hey, James. What did you find?’ I had left him looking into various angles on the case.
‘I have prepared a report and emailed it to you. Have you not got it?’
‘One moment.’ I switched between apps on my phone to see the email with an attachment from James three from the top. ‘I have it. Is it a long one?’ James liked to include a lot of detail.
‘Not really. There isn’t much to find. You said you already searched for alien sightings in Kent and for crop circle explanations, well I think you found most of what there was to find. Kent is too boring for aliens to visit. Until now that is. Do you want to read the report or have me give you the highlights over the phone?’
‘Highlights for now, please.’
‘The crop circles were first reported in September. There was a small news feature on the local channel at the time because they had never been recorded in Kent before. Your report has a link to the YouTube film of it. You said there were two college kids poking around the farm asking questions at the time?’
‘I did. Kieron couldn’t remember their names. Lee and something.’
‘Lee Davenport and Christian Rogers.’ James supplied. ‘They are art students at Greenwich College. I haven’t been able to ascertain what their interest in the crop circles might have been. There seems to be no connection between their studies and the events at the farm.’