Maggie's Story (Intergalactic Matchmaking Services) (4 page)

“Okay, Maggie. I appreciate your honesty. I’m going to give you a web address with a password. This is a portal to our personality test. Just log in using your name and use this six-digit number for the password. The password is keyed to you alone. Once you take this online test, the results will come to me and that will help me determine if you are a likely candidate for Intergalactic Matchmaking Services,” said Claire as she handed a small slip of paper to Maggie.

Maggie looked at the paper and saw the web address, her name, and the password she was to use. Still confused on the term
intergalactic
, Maggie had to ask, “Could you please tell me more about the name of your company? Intergalactic? Doesn’t that imply space travel?” Maggie couldn’t suppress the chuckle that bubbled forth.

“For right now, will you settle with me reminding you that the flyer did say we were looking for adventurous, open-minded women? I promise, I can explain more fully after you take the personality test online,” said Claire.

Maggie decided to take a leap of faith and go with the flow. She did, after all, have an adventurous spirit. So wouldn’t waiting for the answer be a part of that adventure? If it offered her a chance at finding that someone special, specially a soul mate, then all the better.

“Sure, I can wait a little longer, Claire,” said Maggie.

“Do you mind if I take your picture for your file, Maggie? Or do you have one that you would like me to use instead?”

“I can give you one of my school pictures from last year. It was in Minnesota, but I haven’t changed since then,” Maggie said as she rummaged through her desk drawer for a picture. She handed this to Claire.

At this time the matchmaker rose from the chair, gathering her belongings to her. “Then on that note, I will take my leave. As soon as I have your test results, I will give you a call and set up another meeting time, if necessary,” stated Claire.

“May I ask a question before you leave?”

“Of course, anything you like, dear,” answered Claire.

“What about my cat? Mamzell has been with me for three years and I won’t get rid of her. She would have to go with me if I moved.” Maggie knew this may be a deal-breaker, but she wouldn’t simply get rid of her companion as a matter of convenience.

“Oh, well, yes, that is irregular. Let me think on it and see if we can’t work something out, okay?” asked Claire.

“All right, thank you for your time, Claire, it was a pleasure meeting you. I will take the online test tonight. Please have a safe trip back to Seattle.” Maggie walked the matchmaker to the apartment door, unlocked all three locks, and then secured the door behind her after her last good bye.

“
Mrawr
,” chimed in Mamzell as she walked up to Maggie. She seemed to know she had been included in the conversation.

“Well, Mamzell. Looks like we better get out the laptop and start this personality test. How about soup and a sandwich for dinner first?” said Maggie as she walked into the kitchen. First things first after all.

CHAPTER 7

After eating a quick dinner and grading her students’ papers, Maggie settled into the comfortable sofa with her laptop. She typed in the web address, then her name and the password Claire had given her. Maggie read through the simple instructions and the description of how the test worked.

“This test will ask many questions, some quite personal, to help Intergalactic Matchmaking Services evaluate you in five key areas. These are: Openness, Adventurousness, Extraversion, Likability, and Conscientiousness. Please answer each question as quickly as possible. Questions will be asked in a random order. This test can take up to 30 minutes to complete.”

“Sounds simple enough,” said Maggie as she stroked Mamzell’s soft tan fur.

“
Mrawr
,” purred Mamzell.

“I agree, Mamzell, may as well get started.”

Maggie quickly pressed the
Begin
button and answered the questions as quickly as she could. She assumed over-thinking the answers would affect the results, so she tried to answer each question with her first inclination. The answer choices were usually
Strongly Agree, Agree, Do Not Agree or Disagree, Disagree,
and finally
Strongly Disagree
. Sometimes there were
Yes/No
questions, though, just to spice up the variety.

“
Do you like art museums? Are you currently in a relationship? Do you exercise daily? Do you ever over indulge? How many sexual partners have you had? Do you like children? Would you say you judge people on their looks? Was your last romantic relationship more than two years ago? Do you consider scars unattractive? Do you have tattoos? Are you opposed to tattoos?”

“Sheesh, Mamzell, these questions are all over the place!” said Maggie. It was hard to imagine how the computer would put all of these answers together and come up with a complete picture.

“Do you panic easily? Do you have a criminal record? Do you consider yourself neat? Do you have any communicable diseases? Do you have any phobias?”

After 200 questions, Maggie was finished with the Personality Test and hit the
Complete
button on the screen.
“Thank you for taking the Intergalactic Matchmaking Service’s Personality Test. A Matchmaker will contact you soon with the results.”

Maggie rose from the couch to put away her laptop. As she turned from placing it on her desk in the corner of the living room, she parted the curtains looking out over the block. Looking to her right, she could see the three Snake gang members still watching her apartment. One turned to look at her windows before she could drop the curtains back into place. He seemed to stare straight into her scared green eyes. So the vigil continues, she thought.

“Come on Mamzell. I hear the pillow calling us. Let’s turn in for the night.”

“
Mrawr
,” agreed the petite cat, following her closely to the bedroom.

☆★☆

Maggie woke early the next morning; she even woke before the alarm clock could jar her awake. After preparing for another day of school kids, she collected her things for the trip to her truck. She fervently hoped she didn’t see any gang members this morning. The constant worrying was bound to give her an ulcer, she figured. Unfortunately, as she was leaving the alley behind her apartment, she saw two Snake gang members standing in the path of her vehicle. She applied the brakes and quickly engaged the door locks.

The taller of the youths looked to be of Hispanic origins, while his shorter, younger looking companion was so pale he seemed to glow in the early morning light. Each had a yellow bandana wrapped around their neck. They continued to stand in front of her truck until the older one lifted his hand and made the sign for a gun. He was the same gang member that had made this sign to her through her living room window on Monday. After raising his hand to his mouth, and blowing on the tip of his index finger, they both stepped closer to her truck. They began banging on the hood, making dog-like sounds. Maggie decided enough was enough and she didn’t want to wait around to see how much further they would go with their intimidation. She floored the gas pedal, shooting out of the alley. Luckily there was no traffic coming, she would have surely side swiped anyone unfortunate enough to be in her path at the moment.

Maggie’s hands shook on the steering wheel all the way to Maddigon Elementary School. She quickly pulled into the teachers’ parking lot and turned off the truck. As the adrenaline from her scare burned out of her system, she was left short-breathed there in her vehicle, with a death-grip on the steering wheel. At that moment, her cell phone started ringing in her purse. Letting out a startled gasp, Maggie dug it out of her purse and answered a bit breathlessly.

“Hello?” asked Maggie. She was proud of the fact her voice didn’t come out in a simple squeak.

“Good morning, Maggie, this is Claire O’Donnell. I hope I’m not calling too early. Are you okay? You sound a little breathless,” said Claire kindly.

“Oh, hi Claire. Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, thank you. I just had another scare this morning from the Snake gang members. It’s fine, though, you caught me before I went into my classroom. How can I help you?” asked Maggie, grateful for the distraction from her worries.

“I wanted to let you know I got the results from your personality test and am happy to say you would be a perfect candidate for our services. If possible, I would like to set up an appointment for you to see our doctor for a physical.”

“Oh, wow, that was fast. Umm, sure, I don’t mind seeing your doctor. You said the cost is covered, right? I hate to ask, but things are a bit tight right now since I just moved here.”

“Yes, the cost is covered by IMS. The doctor has an appointment available at ten a.m. on Saturday if that works for you? I understand it would be hard for you to get down to Seattle during the week, so I double-checked that the doctor could see you on the weekend,” said the matchmaker.

“Saturday works fine for me. Give me the address and I’ll be there.” Claire read off an address and Maggie wrote it down on a small notepad she kept clipped to the visor. “Thanks again, Claire. I’m sorry to rush, but I need to get to class; the first bell just rang.”

“Certainly, Maggie. I will call you again on Monday after the doctor gets his test results to me. Have a good day.”

CHAPTER 8

Claire O’Donnell hung up the phone with Maggie Cline and turned to her companion.

“Well, Ambassador Pacer, I hope this candidate proves to be worthy. She’s a really nice young woman. I really enjoyed meeting her and her Personality Test scores are promising.”

The Ambassador turned his black eyes to her. “I hope so, too, Claire. There have not been very many viable candidates for this program since it started last year. We Nordonians would like to see this effort work, not just for ourselves, but your government, too.”

“Of course, Ambassador,” replied Claire. “As soon as we have her tests results from Dr. Vidortan we will be able to proceed, so long as there are no issues with her health. I wish we were having better results with the program, too, but without telling these young ladies upfront that they will end up in space, not many are answering our ads. Not too many women are willing to leave their Earth lives behind so completely.”

“I understand, Claire, it is not your fault. Unfortunately, we have more men willing to mate human women than we have human women answering your ads. Maybe one day the secrecy will not be necessary, but for now … we will just have to continue on as we are.”

The Ambassador ran his large hand over his head, drawing Claire’s eyes to his family clan tattoo. It was a large black bird, the head of which was tattooed on the top of the Ambassador’s head with its wings wrapping round the sides. The wings stopped just short of his small ears. It looked similar to an outlining of an eagle, but she recalled being told the bird on Nordo was larger than the men who wore their likeness in a familial marking. Each family grouping had an animal or symbol that their members had tattooed onto their scalps when they reached adulthood. Claire couldn’t imagine how painful that had to be.

“I must be getting back to our ship. I will contact you next week for another visit and an update on this Ms. Cline.”

“It was nice seeing you again, Ambassador Pacer. Until next week then.” She watched as the large Nordonian walked to the back of her office and exited to the private alley. She knew he had a cloaked four-seater space craft in the alley. They could not come to Earth often; there was no way they could be taken for humans. Nordonians were about six inches taller on average than most human males. They also weighed about a third more and all of that was muscle. Fortunately, in Claire’s opinion, that muscle did not make them look muscle-bound. With slightly feline features, the muscle weight was evenly distributed and carried well by the aliens.

Claire personally found the ambassador to be quite attractive, but she would never say that to anyone. She felt he would be a wonderful candidate for the matchmaking program set up by the U.S. government and the Nordonians. She didn’t feel, however, that she was an appropriate candidate. At the age of 40, she had resigned herself to never having children. Having children this late in life would mean higher risks for complications and she did not think she was up to that responsibility. She was well aware that the Nordonians needed human women to continue their bloodlines.

A chemical warfare attack by one of their enemies had wiped out all of the females of their race. It was a terrifying attack that will prove fatal for all Nordonians if they did not find other races to breed with. While they were a long-lived race, they were not immortal. The ambassador himself was about 100 Earth years in age, but was considered middle-aged for his race. One hope of the U.S. government was that the children produced from these pairings would have extended lives, too. It is unknown if living among the Nordonians would extend the lives of the women; there was not enough data to make that determination.

This was where Claire, and others like her, came in. They operated Intergalactic Matchmaking Services in the hopes of finding likely candidates for the program. This business had been active for only about 18 months and so far there were only a handful of viable candidates who chose to stick with the program. Most of the women chose to return to Earth, with their memories wiped clean of the time they spent with the program, instead of giving up their Earth existence. For this reason, Claire looked for women who were without family that would tie them to this planet.