Authors: Gordon Mackay
The commander was informed the ship had docked and the crew were expected to appear at any moment. He replied he wanted the ship’s captain to report to him immediately. The order was sent to the ship, then by telepathy when no answer was received. It was suspected the crew were already on their way after disembarking as the message
travelled. A reply was not expected as the ship’s captain would heed the order and head straight for the commander’s position at once. The commander relaxed, pleased with himself that the stupid human vessel had not detected the base and finally vacated the area. He was in no mood for visitors, but protocol dictated he had to entertain his subordinates upon their arrival for a short time, to simply hear their report and listen to anything important they had to pass on. Then it would be back to running the base and listening to the pathetic military communications that his operators thought might be important to the Empire. With not much being heard while they were in a shut-down mode, he was only too happy to feel relaxed, having secretly enjoyed the peace and quiet of the past few days isolation, even though the lack of communications had been disquieting for him.
Scott had left the bay, taking stock of the absence of viewing windows and arrival crew, thinking how different it all was from the RAF that he knew only too well. With any arriving aircraft, there had to be a Seeing-
In-Crew, where they would marshal the plane onto its hard standing before connecting electrical power and earth-cables. The crew would disembark while the Ground-crew got on with their tasks of recovering the aircraft for its next sortie. Gases and liquid containers would be replenished, with checks and measurements carried out and recorded. Everything from tyre pressures to radar-coolant would be logged, with reported faults rectified when a diagnosis had been verified and spares obtained. But unlike a military jet, there was no ground-crew, fuel tanker, cables or smells to be seen, heard or suffered from.
He remembered the little bikes stowed in the ship’s rear, wondering how easy it would be to carry one. “It would need to be one very big bag to carry it through customs,” he said.
The ladies just shook their heads in confusion, not understanding what he was on about or why.
He saw their confusion, smiling humorously. “Hey, don’t look so worried. We’re back on Earth.
I was born here and know the place rather well.”
Each of the ladies allowed their shoulders to drop at his sense of humour with a loud sigh, as if to say,
Shut up!
He saw and heard their feelings.
A door wide and high enough for a bus to drive through opened by itself as they approached. It sang a song like a siren for the few seconds it took to fully open, warning any in its vicinity of its thrusting travel. Its movement had been much faster than they were ready for so were left standing in full view of any who might have been on the opposite side. Fortunately for the intruding gang of three, there were none to witness their
embarrassed stance.
The corridor beyond was massive, looking as if it was deliberately built to receive enormous loads from arriving ship
s, forcing Scott to inhale deeply as if to try and draw a gale of wind along its length.
“Do we have any knowledge of this base and its layout,” he asked, not expecting to be told they did. So he wasn’t
surprised when they both replied,
“No!”
“Well then, I guess we need to push on and see what the heck’s down there,” pointing the way to go.
Belinda rushed forward as Scott began his rapid stride forward, placing a hand on his suit’s collar, pulling him to an urgent standstill. He almost choked at the shock of his progress being so short-lived, his head being thrown forwards and his chin bouncing off his chest.
“Bloody-hell, that flaming well hurt!” he coughed out in surprise and an
noyance.
Belinda stood her ground with an expression that said,
don’t fuck with me
!
“What the hell’s the matter?” he implored while feeling intimidated by her scowl.
“Will you please try to speak in a tongue we can all understand? And plain English if you think you can manage it!”
Even Phyllis was taken by surprise by Belinda’s outburst, but understood why she felt the need to say so. She nodded in agreement to Belinda’s request, making Scott feel vastly outnumbered and under attack.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. I get the message and the look. I promise to speak in the plainest form of English known to man… and woman too.”
Belinda looked relieved. “Double promise?” she asked.
“Blimey, I must have been worse than I thought! Okay, it’s a double promise?”
“Thanks!”
“That’s okay,” he agreed. “I double promise to speak in proper English as much as possible.”
Belinda caught the look from Phyllis, picking up her message. Scott did too. Another door opened, a smaller one at the far end of the corridor.
“Jeez!” said Scott. Belinda sighed. Phyllis tightened her muscles as if to respond in defence.
The commander was tired of waiting for the ship’s captain to appear, wondering if the wait to enter Earth’s atmosphere had dulled his senses. He informed his subordinates he was retiring to his quarters and to inform the arriving ship’s captain he will now have to report when contacted, not before and not much after, such was the frustration at being kept on station well after the ship’s arrival. It never occurred to him there was anything amiss or untoward with the
time taken for an arriving crew member to report, but after such extenuating circumstances it was understandable. And the fact that the base’s commander didn’t react to a slow crew, the rest of the base didn’t consider an absent captain anything to be concerned about.
No one appeared from the opened door and no sound or voices could be heard. It was just an open door as if to welcome the latest arrivals with no special ceremony whatsoever.
Thankfully
, thought Scott.
“We are taking too long to arrive,” stated Belinda.
“We must move quicker,” insisted Phyllis.
“Well, let’s get a grip then,” answered Scott, regretting his choice of words, while expecting a slap from Belinda for it. When it didn’t arrive and no form of retribution occurred, he felt he should say sorry. Belinda stepped into his line of vision before he could utter any words of consolation, taking him completely by surprise.
“Double promise?”
“Triple! I will not do that again.”
She smiled and said she knows he will not repeat his mistake. It was his turn to release a sigh.
“I still think we should make a move.
” he said. “Let’s head for the door as quickly as possible.”
With his right thumb, Scott
pulled back the revolver’s hammer, cocking the weapon and spinning the cylinder complete with its six bullets. He listened to its rotating mechanical clicks like a gunslinger from years gone by before running for the opposite end of the corridor. The gun was as ready as it could be for a quick and responsive action. They stopped just short of the door, hesitating at the edge for a quick look through. With nothing more than another corridor leading away from the larger, Scott led the way again, and at an almost frightening speed. It took both women to keep up with his strides, running at a breathtaking speed. Neither was quite sure why he had found the term,
watching their rear
, so funny, but perhaps in time they might. Until then, they would watch his and do their best to keep pace with him. He stopped suddenly and without warning, with both women running into him. He was instantly knocked forward by their momentum, saying, “Déjà vu,” as he regained his footing. They both understood the implication, almost laughing at the memory.
“We did not see you stop in time, Scott. We were busy watching your rear.”
He would have laughed at Belinda’s remark if the situation hadn’t been so dangerous. Another door had opened as they approached. It was well ahead and off to one side where it had been impossible to see from a distance as it blended into the wall. Scott not so cautiously approached it before peering inside, noticing how dimly lit it was when compared to the corridor where they were grouped. He waited for a moment, watching for any sign of movement while listening. It was deathly quiet and nothing stirred, persuading him it was probably safe to enter. He knew surprise was on their side because, firstly, there hadn’t been any kind of a reception to greet them. And secondly, if their presence was known he doubted they would have been able to proceed as far as they had managed. He didn’t want to spend any time explaining his reasoning for moving so quickly to the women, he hoped they would simply follow him without question, which they had.
He stepped inside the almost dark room, leaving the corridor’s brilliance behind him. The luminescence from the previous corridor poured into the new room, giving it a wedge of
brilliance that faded along the floor with his shadow. Scott paused again, listening intently with his mouth kept open to sharpen his hearing. His eyes were momentarily blinded after leaving the corridor’s light, with his irises slowly dilating to recognise darker images. As the new room’s contents began to appear his jaw started to drop. With a mouth as open and as wide as the Channel Tunnel waiting for an express train complete with illegal immigrants hanging on for their life, he gasped at the sight before him. His eyes never blinked as his line of sight slowly rose up hundreds of partially illuminated cubicles, row upon row of transparent cases that contained what looked like bodies. He stepped warily to the one closest the door from where he had entered. He touched the case, trying to tell if it was made of glass, which it was. It was also filled with an amber-coloured opaque liquid. Immersed within the liquid was a complete body; a male with haggard pock-marked skin on his face, long dark hair and a substantial gold earring hanging from one ear. Etched into the case, close to one corner, was strange lettering that almost resembled hieroglyphics. Scott was unable to understand the meaning of the writing so asked Belinda if she could translate them. Traipsing across the floor to reach him, she bent down to read it. Leaning a little closer to the case, she recognised and understood the Grey language. She read out loud, “Unknown, Crew member,
Mary Celeste
.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” he exclaimed. Any thoughts of concealment were far removed when he learned the inscription’s translation.
“What is it, Scott?” whispered Belinda, hoping his exclamation had not been heard by anyone other than themselves.
“Are you all right?” asked Phyllis, suspecting he might be in some kind of pain.
“Eh?” asked Scott in return as he had not understood anything said by the women. His thoughts were going through turmoil after learning the meaning of the etched words. Belinda stepped over to him, leaning on one shoulder to whisper the same question into an ear. He was seen to visibly shake his head as if to help clear his thoughts.
T
o bring himself back to a state of mental normality
, thought Phyllis.
“Eh, yeah. I’m… I’m okay… Or at least I think I am.” His voice sounded confused. He took a couple of backward steps as if he needed the extra space to think clearly while Belinda still hung onto his shoulder as if to give him support, moral as well as physical.
“It was a Brigantine,” he said. “A ship that sailed across the Atlantic to trade in items such as cotton and elicit whiskey or brandy. Maybe slaves too,” he added as an afterthought. “She ended her days as one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries. The ship was eventually found under sail… in the Mediterranean Sea of all places, but without any sign of her crew. And now I find this… this person in a glass case with the ship’s name written into a corner. I just find this so hard to believe.” He stepped forward and took another look at the man floating inside the case, Scott’s face took on a serious look as he added, “Grey sons of bitches!”
Phyllis approached his other shoulder, gently laying a hand upon it. “There will be many mysteries from Earth’s long forgotten past stored here, Scott. People have been taken for countless numbers of centuries; by the Greys, by others, and by us too. It is something
we
have always regretted doing, but it was necessary to do so.”
He waited a moment before replying, allowing a silence to form between them. It all began to make a whole lot more sense, everything he had learned from Frell, Drang, Belinda and Phyllis, not forgetting Patricia and Mike.
“Yeah! And there was Mike as well! Those evil bastards took him from an early grave in the jungle!” Scott paused, realising what he had said. “I guess Mike was an exception to the rule, though. He would more than likely have died if he hadn’t been abducted.” He smiled at his recollection of Mike’s more-than colourful phrases on Mars. Remembering how he had almost made love to
Akay
, and would have if he could, Scott believed. A smile appeared on Scott’s lips at the thought of Mike attempting to straddle a piece of cold steel while calling it,
Babe
. A faint snigger left his lips, lightening the serious load he was carrying and making him feel better.
“I guess there are answers to a great many puzzles here,” suggested Belinda as she looked from the distant lines of cases then upwards to view the highest rows, mentally working-out there must be many thousands of bodies lying in drowned state.