An Alien Rescue (13 page)

The Mothership and its crew were left far behind in the fading distance of stars and distant nebulae, too small and dark to be seen by visual methods. Communication was still an option and the best wishes of all on board was despatched personally by Patricia. She would always remember Scott for the feelings she experienced, doubting if any other man could fulfil the sensations she enjoyed.
Lucky Frell
, she thought quietly.

Phyllis hovered over the controls, making occasional adjustments where and when required, although not very often. While the pre-programmed destination determined what speed and direction the ship travelled, Phyllis would monitor their progress and check all was well. Her main task was the environment surrounding the organic and living computer that ran all things. It was likened to a brain, living organic cells that could operate and control most of the ship’s functions. It’s survival was largely dependent upon its own intellect, except for one flaw. The cells were incapable of pain, which meant it couldn’t adjust its own environment to ensure its own safety and survival. This was the responsibility of the ship’s pilot. Sensors surrounding,
Brian
, an anagram of brain, would trigger an alarm if a dangerous or detrimental situation occurred. The crew were at great risk if anything should befall, Brian’s brain.

Scott was shown to his quarter’s, a room that appeared exactly like the one Frell and Belinda had escorted him to, although Frell’s had been a whole lot more fun, he recalled. Belinda had mentioned it would be some considerable time before they would arrive at their solar system destination and he should rest as much as possible. Scott would be informed of their impending arrival before they entered the outer limits so he wouldn’t miss anything of importance. Until then, she assured him, there wasn’t anything to see or do.

Scott recollected the events both he and Frell shared when there wasn’t anything to see or do, wondering what Belinda would be like as a lover. However, he thought, Frell was absolutely gorgeous and he loved her deeply. There wasn’t anything or anyone who could entice him away from her. He would die to save her; he would also die to save Belinda and Phyllis too, he added to his determination. He knew there would be some kind of fight involved with the rescue, and he didn’t have any weapons. He hadn’t asked for any, always hoping something like a ray gun or miniature nuke would be presented to him at some point in time. He still hoped.

Belinda communicated with her base, getting an update of their situation. A greater increase in communication traffic had been detected among the Grey Empire, a possible sign that their departure was known. It was envisaged there might be a trap set for their return to Earth’s system and all precautions were to be taken.

The small asteroid close to Pluto’s orbit was the chosen setting for an ambush. It was perfectly situated for observing the outermost boundary and all craft that might enter from outside. It consisted mainly of iron and nickel, interspersed with basaltic lava and carbon crystals; all frozen solid and as hard as any material could possibly be. The system’s solitary sun was so far away the temperature was at its lowest point. Even water would freeze harder than that of a diamond on Earth.

The ship slowed as it approached the border where communications would cease. Their approach stopped short of the boundary as a final communiqué was despatched. With the last message of departure the small ship gingerly entered into a system of silence, save for the confused signals from Earth and that of interstellar noise. Pulsars kept them on a true course, natural beacons derived from collapsed stars that rotated so quickly with unique frequencies. They were the lighthouses of space whose signals were able to enter the system.

A black ship monitored the approach of the smaller craft that carried the rescue team, waiting for the right moment to catch them. The Grey ship’s commander had been ordered to detain them without harm, especially as their soft endo-skeletal bodies were fragile and needed careful treatment to prevent injury. The male human was the most important of the crew and was to be protected as much as possible, until he was delivered to the Martian base. His body parts were to be saved for the hybrid project. The others could be used for whatever purpose the base could think of.

Belinda had already called Scott to the Control Deck, where his suspicious nature made his concerns audible.

“Belinda, Phyllis,” he said. “If I was to set a trap I would wait for the enemy or prey to approach
me
before I sprang it. Surprise is a great advantage for attack and capture.”

Belinda stopped the craft, considering Scott’s feelings and advice.

“What would you suggest we do?” she asked.

Scott ran his fingers through his hair while considering their predicament.

“How much trouble would it be if we turned around and left the system?”

Phyllis turned around to look towards Scott, wondering why he would ask such a question.

Belinda picked up her questioning thought and asked, “Why?”

“Because, if I was after a ship, just like this, and in these circumstances, I would plan to intercept it as it entered an area where I would expect it to be;
just exactly like this
. And as it happens, I’m on board
this
ship and I’m trained to think ahead, to prepare for any possibility of an ambush or a trap. Therefore, to avoid capture, or worse, you must think like the enemy and how they might plan to spring such a trap.”

“
Yes, you have a valid point, Scott. I see what you mean and agree that there is a chance there might be an unseen ship poised to strike. I don’t suppose Frell or Drang had any opportunity to see their abductor so what you say makes perfect sense.”

Belinda began to understand Scott even more since the chances of being attacked or abducted
was
possible. He was seeing things she could never have envisaged. Belonging to such a peaceful nation she would never have imagined there might be danger in their midst.

“What do you suggest as an alternative then?” she enquired, wondering if there might be another battle in the making.

Before Scott could answer, Phyllis interrupted.

“We could leave and circumnavigate the system, entering from another direction, somewhere completely out of the ordinary, somewhere totally different and well away from the normal point of entry.”

“Bloody-hell, Phyllis, you’re a surprise package you are. A bit of a dark horse too.”

Phyllis had no idea what Scott was referring to. It seemed to her that he now saw her as some kind of a package and a dark four-legged creature called a horse. Her doubts concerning Scott were returning tenfold
kiss or no kiss.

Scott recognised her dilemma, realising he’d made another mistake with his earthly references and talk.

“I’m sorry, Phyllis,” he said with a comforting smile. “I’m saying strange things again, aren’t I? You must forgive me. An Earth human wouldn’t have any difficulty in understanding what I’m saying, but you’re not from Earth are you? What I’m trying to say is, you are, or your ancestors were, and you’re not…” Scott paused while realising he was digging a proverbial hole for himself instead of digging himself out of one, as he hoped he might.

“What I’m trying to say is… you’re a clever lady, you’re clearly able to see what I’m saying… except for the cryptic comments I’ve made,” he quickly added.

Phyllis still wasn’t quite certain what Scott had said or meant. She did think he’d tried to compliment her though.

“Does that mean I said the right thing, then?” she asked, wondering if her question made sense.

“Too bloody right you did! Sorry! Yes, you did.” He answered while correcting himself. He was becoming aware he would need to speak politely and fluently if he wasn’t to confuse either of them with the silly talk he’d been using all his life.
Phew
, he thought to himself,
this isn’t going be easy!

Belinda recognised Scott’s dilemma, as did Phyllis. They looked to the other, both smiling at Scott’s puzzled and agonised look. He quickly recovered, shaking his head slightly as if to help clear his confused thoughts.

“Right, that’s settled then. We leave the system where we came in and enter elsewhere in an area where we would be least expected,” commanded Belinda.

“Fair enough, that’s the way to confuse the little Grey bastards,” stated Scott as he felt terrible realising he’d cursed in his little speech.

Both ladies smiled again. They recognised Scott’s embarrassment and thought it funny.

The ship’s external power source was turned off, relying on the ship’s own internal generator. The glowing ship faded into darkness, blending into the blackness of space for safety and camouflage. Non-essential systems were shutdown one-by-one, reducing the emitted magnetic signature as it ventured forth. Belinda already knew what was necessary to minimise their detection; her briefing had been intense as well as interesting.

Scott was impressed as he observed both women working together with their thoughts passing between them like dreams in the night. Each seemed to know what the other wanted and reacted like a well-trained duet. He didn’t need to speak or utter a sound, he understood that they knew what had to be done.

The crushing depth would mean instant death for any man, but to the military nuclear submarine that glided swiftly and silently through the murky waters of the South Atlantic any danger was minimalised. Without the regular heartbeat of a piston, the emission of noxious exhaust fumes or a heat signature, the almost invisible submarine swept the cold and forbidding waters aside as it headed towards its new destination and mission. NASA had informed the Pentagon, who in-turn ordered the captain of this submerged Man-o’-War, there had been a confirmed sighting of a UFO by both visual contact and also by good-luck. The visual sighting was from a holiday cruise liner returning from a once-in-a-lifetime round-the-world trip, where both crew and mostly aged passengers saw what could best be described as a flying wedge. The unanimous description was,
it had no discernable markings, other than it was black, and was shaped like a wedge of cheese
. The other report, which was the lucky break, was from a USA satellite carrying out investigative work on the migratory patterns of the orca and penguins; one was an awesome beast that fed off the other. The penguin may have as much chance of flying through the air as a house-brick might, but as a swimmer and traveller of great distances it was extremely efficient and capable. The nuclear sub didn’t emit any evidence of its presence, it didn’t leave any kind of pollution or reflect any echo from its absorbent tiles, but the Greys’ still knew where it was. It just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time, as far as the Greys were concerned. The Grey Empire always went out of their way to maintain concealment, which is why the planet Mars was believed by humans to be jinxed; especially when the number of visiting exploratory craft failed at the eleventh and most-final hour of landing. No other planet or lunar surface had this record of failure, where a well-tested intricate piece of advanced technological hardware would casually fail as soon as its landing was almost complete. Some had actually reached the Martian surface, just prior to its abrupt and mysterious failure that cut its expensive mission short to the point of being practically non-existent. How the Greys’ scoffed at the naivety of the human race, especially how humans firmly believed they were the only intelligent species to inhabit space. This ignorance only served to enforce the Empire’s belief that humans were undeserving of the valuable blue planet on which they both resided and destroyed. This, however, would soon be remedied, according to the projections and dastardly plans already made by the Grey Elite.

The signal arrived at the Officer in Charge of the Comm’s desk, with its designation of
Top-Secret
classification stamped all over it in red. The officer grasped the communiqué and headed for the Skipper’s quarters at the double.

Admiral
Peter Josef Hoffman, also known as,
Skipper
, was handling the days reports, noting the submarine’s performance, faults and discipline for that week. The crew’s working day was governed by the atomic clock as the entire voyage was submerged, so daylight and night-time meant very little to any of the crew until they returned home to their families and sweethearts. Until then, it was work and sleep, a repetitive world of doing what they were trained to do and hot-bedding the narrow folding bunks. The routine was just that, simply routine, so any kind of diversion was greatly received by all, except the cooks. They were the unfortunate guys who got the criticism if the food wasn’t up to scratch, or if anyone was having a really bad day with an attitude problem and wanted something or someone else to moan about. And when there was any abrupt change to the sub’s schedule, they had to re-plan their meals to suit the nutritional needs of the men. The dishes delivered by these hard-working sailors would have been a credit to any up-market five-star gourmet restaurant, where diners and critics would appreciate the tastes and succulent savouries served with the reverence expected by the very highest of society.

At the sound of his junior Officer’s voice and
more than urgent knocking, Skipper looked over his bi-focal glasses towards the open door.

“There’s an urgent  message from
HQ sir, marked Top Secret.”

The Officer was a youngster compared with the rest of the crew, straight from Military College and on his first submerged cruise around the globe. He wasn’t aware he was doing a tour of the world as the information of the submarine
's whereabouts was concealed knowledge, known only to the Captain, his Executive Officer, known as the
XO
, and the Navigator. The young and spotty looking lad handed the document over, not knowing what information it contained.

CAPTAIN’S EYES ONLY
, was printed in large, bold lettering that was impossible to miss. The navy didn’t take chances with important information, the codes needed for understanding the message was changed every fifteen minutes, regular as clockwork and without fail.

The envelope was opened and the message decrypted. His trained and alert mind was able to decipher the coded letter as quickly as any could, operating the box of tricks that closely resembled the German Code machine from the second world war called, Enigma, but only in looks. The simplicity of the Enigma machines was a thing-of-the-past, an untidy electro-mechanical piece of antiquity, whose
cracking
had ultimately played a huge part in the downfall of the Third Reich
.

The deciphered message included the co-ordinates of the
UFO’s visual sighting, with details of the strange triangular craft entering the sea a little to the south of their present position. His submarine was being ordered to steer for the area and investigate the situation, taking all precautions in case the unknown craft belonged to a foreign power … or otherwise.

The new co-ordinates were entered into the ship’s navigational computer and a course was set. It would take approximately eighteen hours before they would begin to enter the region where the sighting was reported from. The skipper
immediately called his officers to the Board-room for a briefing, including those off-shift and asleep. The cooks looked at one another with a sigh, wondering what was going on and how the meals and times might be affected. The lamb casserole, stews and joints of beef and pork wouldn’t take kindly to extra time in the ovens. The head chef called his friend in the Comm’s room, asking if he had any idea what was going on. “Sorry Cookie, I’ve no idea what’s happening,” was the quick-as-a-flash reply. Even if his friend had known he’d still not have told him, mate or no-mate. Some things just shouldn’t be said or passed on to others not in-the-know.