Time to Time: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective (Ashton Ford Series) (5 page)

Chapter Nine:
 
Body Language

"Sorry,"
I explained, "you walked in on a little conversation I was having with
myself."

She
looked at her feet as she replied, 'Talking to yourself is okay, they say. It's
when you start answering"

I
said, "Oh well, I'm certifiably crazy anyway. How far can I get beyond
that?"

She
looked up at me, started to say something but checked herself, stood up with a
bounce, and went to the window to peer out onto the ocean. The sun was setting,
streaking the sky with awesome reds and purples.

She
was dressed simply in blouse and short skirt, walking shoes, carried the same
tote bag that I'd noticed the first time she came calling. I could see the
outlines of her thighs through the skirt as she stood at the big window, and I
kept getting flashes of the way she'd looked in the string bikini.

Strikingly
pretty girl, I decided, and wondered why she hadn't struck me that way the
first time.

"I
hope you're not crazy," she said while still gazing through the window.
The mood was sober, almost somber. "Because I am really scared and I need
someone really sane to talk to."

I
went to the bar, said: "Then we'd better start with some lubricant. What's
your brand?"

She
turned to me with a tentative smile, said, "What?"

I
picked up a bottle and shook it gently.

She
said, "Oh. Maybe some white wine, if you have it. Or..."

"Have
it," I assured her.

I
floated an ice cube in a glass of bourbon, poured some Chablis, carried the
drinks to the couch, invited her with my eyes to join me there. She came over
and sank down at the far end—far enough that I had to stretch the arm to pass
the wine to her. She sipped it delicately with no evidence that she was even tasting
it and we sat there in a sort of brooding silence while she rehearsed her
speech or whatever and I quietly allowed it.

Finally
she said, "Maybe I'm going crazy myself."

"Maybe,"
I replied agreeably.

"You
asked me today if..."

"Yes?"

"You
were asking about Penny, and you asked if she'd been having these memory gaps
and...all that."

"Yes?”

"Well
she has. And I think I have, too."

"Since
when?"

Those
eyes hit me at full voltage then receded back to the other side of the galaxy
as she replied, "Will I'm not sure. But at least for the past year. The
first time it happened, I mean the first time I was aware it happened, Penny
told me that I had probably just left the body for a moment."

"There's
a way to check that," I suggested.

"Really?"

"Yeah.
Tell me exactly what you were doing the first time you noticed a
discontinuity."

"Of...?"

"Of
time, of experience."

"I
was driving along the Hollywood Freeway."

"And
what happened?"

"Well
I wanted to get off on Sunset. I woke up on the Ventura Freeway in Sherman
Oaks. I totally spaced twenty minutes. It was the middle of the
afternoon."

"Tell
me what you were thinking just before..."

"I
was thinking I had to get off on Sunset. I was supposed to be meeting Penny at
her agent's office."

"And
where were you at that time?"

"Just
a couple of exits away. I started moving to the right so I could exit and the
next thing I knew I was in Sherman Oaks. I know I wasn't unconscious because it
was very heavy traffic and I have a hard enough time with that when I'm fully
awake."

I
said, "Give me another example just like that but not while you were
driving."

She
immediately replied, "Well this afternoon. I was sitting in the lanai
reading, and Penny was doing her pool time. I heard her in the water and I
always keep a corner of the mind alerted when she is in the pool. You know, I
try to stay aware of her. And I was aware and alert to her even though I was
reading. But then it was like a snap of the fingers and you were sitting across
the table from me and Penny had left the pool."

"You
don't remember us sitting there talking while Penny swam?"

"No
I—"

"You
don't remember her getting out of the pool and joining us at the table?"

She
wet her lower lip with her tongue. "No."

"She
spoke to you about the dolphins."

"What
dolphins?"

"The
dolphins for the pool."

That
struck her as funny, even through the worry. She laughed softy and said,
"That would be the ragged end for Ted, I'm afraid."

"Penny
told you that Ted was no longer a problem."

"Meaning
what?'

I
shrugged. "You don't remember any of that?"

"No.
So what is happening to us?"

I
said, "You began this by reminding me that I asked you today about Penny's
memory gaps."

"Yes?"

"Do
you remember when I asked you that?"

"Today
sometime. Wasn't it?"

"Was
it?"

I
saw a flare deep in the eyes. She screwed up her face and gazed across the
room.

I
asked her, "Are you even sure I spoke about that?"

After
a moment she replied, "No. I can't remember the exact..."

I
said, "It was this afternoon in Brentwood. In the lanai, beside the pool.
Penny was in the pool. You and I sat at the table and talked. Focus on
that."

"I...I
can't seem—I don't even remember you leaving."

I
said, "That's because you left first. But we talked, and we talked before
and after Penny left the pool. Don't you remember any of that?"

"No."

"You
don't remember discussing dolphins for the pool with Penny."

She
laughed again. "No."

"Or
anything in particular I said while the two of you were talking about the
dolphins?"

"No."

"Yet
you retained what I said about Penny."

      
After a moment she said, "Maybe I
dreamed it. I don't remember hearing you say it but I know you asked about
Penny's memory gaps."

      
"As though," I suggested,
"maybe someone else told you about it."

      
She showed me a worried frown.
"Yes."

      
Her glass was empty. I took it from her
and went to the bar to refill it. The phone rang before I could do that. The
caller was Ted Bransen. He sounded far away, totally nonaggressive, frightened.

      
"Ford? Something crazy has
happened."

      
"Where are you, Ted?"

      
"You're never going to believe this.
I've been trying to reach Penny for half an hour. Do you know where she

is?"

      
I looked at Julie. She was lost in her
own thoughts, curled onto the couch, gazing across through the window at the
final rays of the setting sun. I think I will always remember her just that
way, in just that moment.

      
I told Bransen, "I don't know where
she is but I'll try

to find her if it's
important. What's happening? Where are you?"

"Jesus,
I still can't believe it. I'm in Buenos Aires, Ford."

I
muttered to myself, "Not another," then raised the voice to inquire,
"How's the weather down there?"

"Weather's
fine. I'm not. I don't know how the hell— my secretary says I called her at
nine o'clock from my car while en route to the office. I told her to cancel all
my appointments for the day, or so she says. How the hell did I get to
Argentina?"

I
sighed, looked again at Julie, said, "You don't remember."

"I
do not remember a goddamn thing except driving along this strange goddamned
street. I stop for directions and discover I'm in Buenos Aires, for God's sake.
It's like the goddamned Twilight Zone, Ford. I've lost more than eight
goddamned hours. This is crazy. I don't know anybody in Argentina. Why would I
come to Argentina?"

I
asked him, "What is the last thing you remember before Argentina?"

He
replied in a voice still shaking: "Goddammit, I was on my way to
work."

I
was mainly just trying to calm the guy. He sounded as though he could shatter
at any moment. I said, "So you went on to the airport instead and hopped a
flight to anywhere. Happens all the time, in this high-pressured world we live
in. Just relax and—"

"I
don't have my fucking passport!" He was screaming at me. "I didn't
take any fucking airplanes! Don't you understand what I'm telling you? I'm on
my way to the office. Okay? I'm driving along and suddenly realize I'm lost,
don't recognize anything. I stop and ask and they say fucking Buenos Aires, for
God's sake. I'm not crazy. I'm telling you I'm not crazy!"

I
said, "Try to cool it, Ted. Of course you're not crazy. It is not crazy to
have a spot of amnesia. It is not—no airplanes? Are you saying...?"

"My
car, right, same car, the Bentley—I'm driving to work in the Bentley and next I
know it's eight hours later, I'm still driving the Bentley, but now I'm in
Buenos Aires. Amnesia doesn't move a car from Santa Monica Boulevard to Buenos
Aires in eight hours, does it?"

I
said, "Ted, listen..."

"I'm
in all kind of trouble, dammit. No passport, no sticker for the car, can't
explain how I got into the country. I can't tell these people I was just
driving to work, can I? What the hell do I tell them? They'll put me in a
straitjacket if I..."

I
said, "Hold the phone, don't go away. I'm going to give you the number of
a man to contact there locally. Now call the guy. He'll understand and he will
not put you in a straitjacket. Just a minute, I have to get the number."

I
put down the phone and went into the study, found the name and number in Buenos
Aires I was looking for, picked up the phone in there, and passed it on to the
bewildered Ted Bransen. He said, "Thanks," in a barely audible voice
then asked me, "What is going on here, Ford?"

I
replied, "Not sure. Just call that number, tell the guy the truth, he'll
help you."

"Is
this a doctor?"

"Not
a medical doctor, no. But he is a scientist and he will understand and he will
help. So call him."

"Okay.
Try to find Penny. Tell her I'm okay, but dammit, don't tell her about
this."

I
hung up before replying, "She could probably tell you about this, Ted."
I stared at the telephone for a moment just trying to size the thing in my
mind, then I went back to the other room and hung up that phone.

Julie
was now standing at the window.

And
standing right outside the window—well, actually, hovering at about twenty
yards off the deck, was a bright blue oval light about twelve feet in diameter.
Another stood slightly above and several hundred yards to the rear, and it was
much larger. It is very difficult to describe these things because the colors
are unlike any color we usually experience on earth and the movements are
unlike anything we usually see moving through our skies. Even the light itself
has a different quality, otherworldly, totally alien.

The
small saucer was doing a little dance.

Just
sort of like a graceful wobble, tilting on its axis in a rhythmic dance.

And
Julie's body was sort of like duplicating that motion.

The
implications were fairly obvious.

They
were conversing.

Chapter Ten:
 
Wish Upon a Star

At this point, things
become a bit jumbled in my mind, almost dreamlike, but I knew and I know that I
was not dreaming. It was happening in the real world and in real time. I just
did not know how to define "it."

I
think I saw the small saucer moving closer to the house but there was no sound.
It just sort of floated in to hover with the leading edge almost touching the
deck outside. I turned to check out Julie at that moment, who was just standing
there now like in a trance and softly humming a tune like a lullaby but none I
could identify.

When
I looked back toward the saucer again, a ramp had come down from the center of
it and these little creatures were scampering across it. They had very quick
movements with occasional freezes, like squirrels do, or like someone who is
not well coordinated, or maybe like mechanical devices. Maybe they were robots.
Whatever, they had the ability to run, walk, fly, and hover with a minimum of
effort, and they moved very quickly.

I
have a very difficult time describing these entities, so please bear with
me—and I don't even know what to call them, so let's stick with entities. I'd
say around four feet tall, sort of thick bodies but very skinny limbs. I think
there were four limbs but I wouldn't swear to that. No obvious waist or neck; I
don't remember hands or feet. The eyes were what you really noticed. About the
size and shape of small eggs, very black and glittery, took up most of the
face. Not sure if what I saw at the sides of the heads were ears or antennae.
No nose, very strange mouth—just a slit from ear to ear. They are almost
comic-looking and so were their movements. No sounds that I recall. I think
more than likely they were robots.

I
don't remember them coming inside. I do remember feeling very alarmed. Okay,
scared; I was just about frozen with it. I do remember thinking that I should
not resist but just let it happen and hope for the best. They were fully in
charge of the situation and I knew it. No physical resistance was possible, I
was thinking, so I may as well relax and go with it.

That
is what I tried to do.

I
don't know how many there were. But they were all around me. They lifted me up,
I guess, and carried me out—and I probably weigh more than the whole bunch put
together. Come to think of it, I'm not sure that they lifted or carried me. I
don't think I walked but also I don't remember being touched. It was more a
floating sensation. I don't remember being taken out of the house or entering
the saucer. I do remember a cramped room in very bright light but no sensation
of movement. I believe the small saucer than rendezvoused with the larger craft
because I also remember "floating" along this very long ramp, like
going up into the bowels of a very large structure.

I
went through a couple of air locks—or something like air locks—and then I was
on my feet, I was alone, and I was walking along this brightly lighted corridor
toward a huge, domed room. A Michael Rennie type of character (
The Day the Earth Stood Still)
walked
out to greet me. He wore a jumpsuit and soft black boots. The suit was made of
some soft, thin fabric that fit him like skin from his neck to his ankles and wrists,
no cuffs, a sort of glowing metallic silvery color.

He
was about my same height and build and he wore a very gentle and reassuring
smile. The lips were a bit thin but I have seen lips that thin on earth; the
eyes a bit almond-shaped and I could not discern an iris, but not all that
noticeable; ears rather small and shaped sort of like upside-down from ours.

We
talked just like people.

He
said, "Hello, Ashton. Thank you for coming without a fuss. Please be
assured that we mean you no harm. You may call me Donovan."

I
said, "Is that your real name?"

He
replied, with a chuckle, "No, but it's close enough. You would have
trouble with our pronunciation."

He
led me into the domed room and over to a large oval window. I could see the
lights of Southern California, from Santa Barbara to San Diego, spread like
sparkling jewels far below.

"Do
you recognize that?" he asked me.

I
said, "I've never seen it from this height but I know where it is."

Donovan
smiled and said, "Stay right here," then he

went to a control
panel about twenty feet away and did something there.

I
felt a slight lurch, barely noticeable. Donovan called to me from the panel,
"Now what do you see?"

It
sure wasn't Southern California below me now. For one thing, the image was
reversed. As though we had swung around the earlier scene to regard it from the
other side.

I
looked at him and shook my head. He did something else at the panel and I
experienced another faint sense of movement. When I looked out the window
again, the scene below was much closer. I could pick out moving streams of
lights that had to be cars moving along highways—a number of bridges, tall
buildings.

I
said, in a voice much too quiet for him to have heard, "L.A. to New York
at the snap of a finger."

But
he heard that. He called over to me, "Very good," and then as I was
watching we blipped over to London for a closeup on Big Ben, to Paris and the
Eiffel Tower, to Honolulu and Diamond Head.

When
Donovan rejoined me at the window, California was again directly below.

"How
do you do that?" I asked him. "You just broke every physical law in
the universe."

He
laughed quietly and replied, "Not quite. But we keep trying."

The
guy was very "human." Wouldn't take much Hollywood makeup for him to
be indistinguishable in any crowd on earth. I felt like a mental pygmy in his
presence, though.

He
must have read my thoughts because he told me in very gentle tones: "We
are not that different, Ashton. Not as close as brothers, perhaps, but
certainly closer than cousins. Your origins are my origins."

      
I asked, "Where would that be?"

      
He said, "It no longer exists and
has not during the time of man on earth, so how could I tell you in terms that
you would understand."

      
I suggested, "But you know all about
man on earth."

      
He smiled. "More than you might
believe. Oh, you are a troublesome bunch. But we love you nonetheless."

      
I said, "Well that's comforting. A
lot of people think you mean to eat us or something."

      
He smiled again and replied, "Please
be assured that we are confirmed vegetarians."

      
Before I could think of anything else to
say, we were joined by another couple.

      
Both female.

      
One was Julie, dressed just as I had last
seen her.

      
The other was Penny Laker, or a pretty
close double. She wore an outfit identical to Donovan's and on her it was a
knockout.

      
Julie's eyes looked a bit glassy,
otherwise she seemed okay in every respect. She gave me a tight smile and said,
"Isn't this exciting?"

      
I replied, "Better than
Disneyland."

      
The four of us laughed.

      
Penny touched my hand and said, "We
have important work, Ashton. Will you help us?"

      
“Time to conquer earth?" I asked,
trying to smile as I said it.

      
She did not quite know how to handle my
humor, passing it to Donovan with a little frown.

      
He told me, "We could manage it
ourselves, but it is

best we don't. Best
for all concerned. We cannot and would not force you. Ashton, why should we
conquer you? We already..."

      
I said, "Already what?"

      
He smiled, squeezed my arm
affectionately, told me, "We already love you. Be assured that we mean no harm
to any resident of earth. Will you work with us?"

      
Well there was only one thing I could say
in sanity; right? So I told him, "Guess I'm already part of it. May as
well go for broke. What do you want me to do? Please don't ask me to publish a
UFO newsletter."

      
Donovan laughed.

      
Penny frowned.

      
Julie clutched my arm and whispered,
"Be careful."

      
Next thing I remember, Julie and I were
walking hand in hand down the long ramp. I was feeling great, almost elated.
Julie seemed to be upset, though; she was trembling and maybe sobbing a
little.

      
That particular part is like a mere
snapshot in my mind.

      
The next I know, Julie and I are
embracing on the floor of my living room and she is moving her fully clothed
body against mine in considerable urgency. There are tears on her cheeks but
she is smiling through them as she says to me, "I find it convenient now,
Ashton, that you attack my brains."

      
And that, pal, was only the very front of
the night.