The Alpha Choice (10 page)

Hugo had, in the course of his work, come across many scientists and was fully aware that the clichéd
boffin
, with unkempt hair and appalling dress sense was, by and large, apocryphal. Nevertheless, he thought it unlikely he would ever meet two people less the stereotype.
 

Both of his visitors continued to look straight at him, and while they retained their calm exterior, the woman’s green eyes were now ablaze.
They want to see how I’ll react.
He settled back in his chair, and took another sip of his tea, before speaking, not to the man, but to the woman with the no longer serene emerald eyes. ‘That’s, to say the least, quite a claim and, if you’ll forgive me, a little vague.’

The woman, Tala, spoke for the first time with a voice that vividly contrasted with that of her companion, where he was authoritative, she was reassuring, where he was serious, she was relaxed. ‘We lack experience in making presentations. What we intend doing has never before been attempted, and so there’s no precedent on how it’s announced. The best way, I suppose, is just to have done with it.’ She gave Hugo a winning
here we go
smile. ‘We propose releasing onto the market, amongst other things: a food and water replication device; fusion power; a seeding system that will, permanently, renew your ozone layer...’

Hugo prided himself on never interrupting a client, but this was simply too ludicrous for words. ‘You can't be serious!’ he blurted out, while she was in mid sentence.

‘…and in time, cures for, and inoculations against, all known human diseases. The full list will be impressive.’ She had continued, unfazed, as though he had never spoken.

For all her evident sophistication, she had reeled off her list with the enthusiasm of a young girl describing her first day at school. Yet, while she retained her open and excited look, there was something about her eyes that appeared to caution:
We are judging you, choose your next words, carefully.
It then occurred to him that she had said, ‘
human
diseases,’ and ‘
your
ozone layer.’
 

OK,
he thought,
human diseases, there’s nothing too strange about that, they might be biologists, and scientists need to be precise, but ‘your ozone layer’? Whoever they are, its still ‘our’ ozone layer.
He looked at them for some clue. What he had just been told was crazy, on more than one level, but they neither looked, nor sounded crazy. He had met his fair share of unbalanced people in his time, and there was always something that gave it away. None of those signs were here. Rich, self assured, well-groomed people could still be unhinged, even if he had yet to meet one, before today. What he needed was something to tip the scales one-way, or the other.
 

Tala had clearly read the conflict in his face, answering him with the merest hint of a smile.
 

But that would mean
, he thought,
if ‘human’ diseases aren't their diseases and if ‘our’ ozone layer isn't their ozone layer…
’ the train of thought hung suspended, only half completed, it was even more ridiculous than Tala’s wish list. His reasoning tumbled forward. If his thoughts were ridiculous, why was there a prickling sensation at the back of his neck? A feeling usually reserved for those infrequent occasions, immediately following the breakup of his marriage, when he was about to be discovered in some amorous indiscretion, and which presaged both fear and, perversely, excited anticipation.
 

Then there was the matter of their names, they were single names as though they were a pair of rock stars. Were they first names, or surnames? His visitors were either being particularly informal, or the exact opposite. They spoke flawless English, but their accents were not American. Their speech had a certain artificial, even synthetic ring.
They’re not Slavic
, of that much he was certain.
That leaves Western Europe, but there’s no accent at all, so it still doesn’t fit
, he thought.
 

For the first time, Tala looked at Beron, not out of deference or respect, Hugo conjectured. It was as if she was passing an instruction that she would brook no interruption. He also thought he noted a slight change in the eyes of the man, a lowering of his gaze, almost imperceptible, but definitely there. Hugo felt relieved that his senses were as alert as ever.
 

Returning her attention to Hugo, Tala smiled, that same soft smile, and then began. ‘What I’m about to tell you will strain your credulity, but only if you choose to believe me. If you conclude that what you hear is too incredulous, we’ll leave and nothing we’ve said need ever trouble you again,’ there was a momentary pause, before she added. ‘We will of course reimburse you for your time, after all, you’re a professional.’

Hugo’s only response was to take another sip of his tea.

Her eyes followed the cup as he placed it back on the table, then rose slowly to meet his own. ‘Would you like me to continue?’
 

Looking into the bright green eyes of the woman who had merely whetted his appetite, he replied. ‘Until I hear more from you, I won't know if I can help.’

She nodded. ‘That sounds very fair, although I would have expected you to add a caveat.’
 

Hugo regarded her, silently, which prompted her to say. ‘Let me offer it to you. Should you want to stop the audience at any time, I’ll comply immediately.’

‘I make it a habit to always hear a client out, otherwise I could miss the vital detail that persuades me to take the case, and so thank you, but the caveat is unnecessary.’ Then, seemingly as an afterthought, he added. ‘However, I would normally ask questions as they occur to me.’

Her response was immediate. ‘Agreed. I can sense that certain thoughts are coursing through your mind as to our provenance, probably something to do with our names and,’ she paused briefly, ‘our speech patterns?’

His look must have given something away, as she said, with a look of self satisfaction. ‘I thought so. There’s no easy way to say this. Despite looking like you, and sharing the same genetic code, we aren’t from this planet.’

The earlier, suspended thought tore free from its restraints, filling his mind. He had no idea what they were up to, but one thing was as clear as day: his original assessment of their mental condition was so far out in left field, as to be in another state.
 

‘Perhaps,’ he said, placing his hands on the desk as though about to lever himself out of his chair, ‘now would be a good time for you to leave, I don't think I’ll be able to help you. Your problem is beyond my particular area of expertise, and you did say I could stop this interview at any time. I choose to stop it now.’

He stood up, but his visitors remained as they were. Fifteen-seconds passed, during which time neither Tala nor Beron, moved. Then, as if in answer to a prearranged prompt, Beron produced from his inside jacket pocket a silvery, oval pebble, no larger or thicker than a spectacle lens. He leaned over and placed it on the desk between them, and did this without saying anything.

Hugo looked down at the tiny object, and slowly lowered himself back into his chair.

Tala spoke again, her voice tinged with empathy. ‘Your reaction is understandable. We can’t expect you to take us seriously, without some proof that what we say is true. With your permission, we’ll provide you with a demonstration which, hopefully, assures you as to our credentials. Of course, if you remain sceptical we’ll definitely leave, and trouble you no further.’

He thought through what he had heard, and the possible implications. There was nothing to be risked by allowing their demonstration, and he had to admit, despite his initial reaction, his interest was piqued. They, obviously thought the demonstration would elevate their fantasy into reality, and he would like to see what was capable of doing that. He nodded.

Tala looked at her companion, who closed his eyes for little more than a couple of seconds. As he opened them, there appeared above the desk, a group of three-dimensional images. They appeared solid and showed a blue green planet not dissimilar to photographs he had seen of Earth taken from space. Orbiting the planet were two moons. The motion of these bodies was speeded up, and he could see in the distance, as the planet turned on its axis, its star, yellow like the Sun. Approaching the planet was a matt-silver, ellipsoid object, which he guessed was some kind of spaceship. It had no visible means of propulsion, and no protrusions. If he was right, and it was a spaceship, he would expect it to have windows,
but what do I know about spaceships?
he asked himself.

It was impossible to tell its size, but one thing was certain, it was heading towards the planet and, as it descended, his viewpoint altered. It was as if he was descending with the ship.
 

The approach to the surface was very rapid, and as they broke through the clouds he saw, laid out below him, a green brown continent edged by a blue sea, just as he imagined it would be on Earth.

He/the ship’s decent noticeably slowed, as they traversed a vast mountain range. Looking down he could see the shadow cast by the ship on the rock formation below. The ship had to be the size of at least six football fields, if not bigger. As the worn crags fell away behind him, a coastline filled the horizon and, nestled on the edge of a huge bay, lay a city the like of which he had never seen, or imagined.

The first thing that struck him, was how elegant it appeared from a distance, with buildings and spires, sweeping upwards towards high pinnacles at its centre, and that was where he/the ship was heading, at an incredible speed. Despite not being on the ship, he still felt nervous, even more so when they passed the outer boundary of the city, and there was nowhere to land. He/it began to slow, dramatically, while at the same time, one of the central buildings, in one fluid movement, swiftly sank into the ground. Once out of sight, a large landing stage slid, seamlessly, into place from below ground.
 

They descended and hovered, as far as he could tell from his vantage point, almost touching the landing stage. As if in answer to his supposition, the image rapidly expanded, bringing him ever closer to the ground, until he was to one side of the ship, looking at the space below it. He was right, the bottom of the ellipsoid hull was suspended just above the landing stage.

He rose to a point where he could, comfortably, see the ship as well as the central part of the landing stage, and watched as they both descended below ground. Moments later, the image was filled by the re-emergent spire. Everything was back the way it had been, with nothing to suggest the ship had ever been there.

The images disappeared. He was back in the familiar surroundings of his office, and while he was fully aware that he had never left his chair, the impact of what he saw had been intense. He continued looking at the space, which, until moments ago, had been occupied by the images. What he had experienced was so real, he felt confused. When the images first appeared, he had anticipated something resembling a well produced science fiction movie utilising the latest CGI, but there was nothing make believe in what had just unfolded before him.

Despite his bemusement, it was imperative he did not appear awed by his experience. Trying to sound calm, but aware that the slightly strained sound emanating from his throat gave the game away, he said. ‘That was very impressive, but it might be nothing more than a very elaborate hologram, although I have to admit, I didn't think they were so advanced.’
 

Tala smiled, pleasantly. ‘You’re correct, the images are artificially generated, and the process is an advanced form of hologram. However, what you saw is based upon true images of our home planet. Aren't you curious as to where the power, to generate that demonstration, originated?’ She gestured to the pebble. ‘Please, pick up the device, examine it.’

He did as he was asked, and could hardly believe how light it was. Yes, it was small and thin, but this thing was almost weightless, and cool to the touch. He refused to be distracted. ‘A new type of battery?’ he ventured.

She knew he was hooked, and leaned back in her chair. ‘Throw it to me,’ she commanded.

He felt his eyebrows rise involuntarily, before he lobbed the tiny object towards her, and that was the precise moment when his scepticism dissolved. It travelled through the air, stopping about half the distance between them and did, absolutely nothing, remaining perfectly motionless. After waiting a short while to see if anything else was going to happen, nothing did, he stretched out his hand and took hold of it. He felt nothing unusual, no vibrations, no heat, and most definitely, no strings. Turning his hand, so it was facing palm upwards, he opened his fingers, releasing his hold on the pebble. Withdrawing his hand, he stared at the little object, which stayed exactly where it was.

‘How did you do that?’

‘We programmed the device to activate the same field you witnessed in the simulation, the field that powered the ship.’

He looked at the pebble, and then at the woman. While this might not strictly amount to hard evidence in support of their claims, it was still pretty impressive.
If they aren’t telling the truth, then they’re going to a lot of trouble by creating such an elaborate subterfuge?
He decided he had seen enough to let events play out a bit further and, having regained control of himself, if not the situation, asked. ‘What do you want from me? Why on Earth…’ he realised the pun, too late, and from the look on Tala’s face, the unintended humour had hit its mark, ‘are you showing me all this, surely, you should be talking to the government?’