Angelique Rising (38 page)

             
I wanted to be rescued, but at the same time the sound of that particular rescue force was terrifying, and the result was useless indecision on my part.

             
I should have run, not that it would have made much difference I suppose, but at least I would’ve made the effort, not been such a damned pansy cowering there in the leaves and dirt swirling up around me. But it felt like I was cemented to the ground, struggling to control the turmoil in my head, not to mention my bowels.

             
The first of the helicopters set gingerly down on the swath of fallen trees I’d unfortunately provided for them. Lights appeared everywhere, giant burning searchlights finding me, concentrating on me. Men appeared everywhere too, shouting, pointing, an excruciating conflagration of noise that left me even more confused and frightened than I already was. I just wanted to go home, leave me alone I gulped, just let me go, please.

             
I don’t know what I expected, anything from being shot to being hugged as a returning hero. I was kneeling beside an object any fool could plainly see was a UFO. I waited for hysteria, astonishment, or awe from those men as they raced about around me and the ship.

             
They did not speak, but several at once surrounded me, keeping their lights concentrated on me. I saw no weapons. Seizing the last of my courage in my hands, I searched for a statement, some incredibly brilliant opening words of greeting that explained my circumstances reasonably and understandably.

             
“Heh!” I called out.

             
Nothing.

             
“I’m not--”

             
“Remain still, Sir,” one of them commanded. “Help is coming.”

             
Did he mean help for me or help for them?

             
“I’m hurt,” I shouted back. “I think my head’s bashed in! I need an ambulance!”

             
“Help is coming, Sir.”

             
“Who are you guys? Forest rangers? Where am I? Oregon?”

             
No response. I dared a small step forward. They were, I saw, all wearing some kind of uniform-type jumpsuit that looked military to me, though I couldn’t place what. Through my bumbling and disorientation I did manage to figure out that I was in the hands of some special kind of group which sent my heart thumping even more wildly as I pictured what kind of kill-em-all good ol’ boy militia might be calling these woods home. The kind of folks who don’t take kindly to a spaceship dropping in on them.

             
“Look,” I said in forced rigid calm. “I’m Floridian! My name’s Mark Hemmings. I’m hurt, dammit! Don’t you have a medic or something?”

             
“Certainly, Mr. Hemmings,” a warm and reassuring voice called over the din of the still rotating helicopter blades. “As a matter of fact,” the man said slipping through the cordon of men around me, “I’m a doctor. And I’m here to help you.” His voice was compelling and earnest, just the sort you wanted to hear when you were in dire need.

             
“You won’t believe what happened to me,” I jabbered in a rush of relief, “but that spaceship over there proves it. I was kidnapped, I was taken by--”

             
“By aliens, Mr. Hemmings, we know. We are quite knowledgeable about this sort of thing. Who else is in the craft?”

             
“No one. I stole it. Look, I need help here. Take me to a hospital. I’ve got insurance. I don’t have the card with me, but I’ve got student insurance.”

             
“Don’t worry about that, Mr. Hemmings. We
are going to take care of you.”

             
The way he said that made me wince. He was being too patient, too determined to control the excitement in his voice. His eyes shifted from me to the ship and back again, like a kid greedily sizing up presents under the Christmas tree. He appeared to be about forty-five years old, twenty years older than me. He wasn’t wearing a jumpsuit like the others but a white lab coat. Who wears a white lab coat into a forest at night? It was as if he was deliberately announcing he was a doctor, sort of a have-faith-in-me statement. His salt and pepper hair was a bit too long, curling round at the nape of his neck trying too hard to still look the rebel. His face was both handsome and fatherly though, and his build was solid. A cut glass brandy decanter kind of man. He was six feet tall and looked like he could take any of the younger men scurrying about him easily, or even me for that matter, and I’m no slouch. When he looked at me, however, his smile was genuine and friendly.

             
“If there’s no one else in that ship, who flew it here?” another voice demanded.

             
I turned and saw a bear of a man, about fifty years old. He was dressed in what was unmistakably an Air Force uniform. I didn’t know how to tell rank from such a uniform, but from the glittering metal on his, I knew he had to be pretty high up there. Unlike the doctor, his hair was a standard military cut. His face was puffy. It was his hands I noticed the most though, they looked like giant meat cleavers that could crush my skull like an eggshell. Something about him was reptilian --his eyes I think-- but his voice was the most pleasant silken voice I’ve ever heard. It forced me into answering.

             
“I did,” I said as agreeably as possible. Here was every I-am-God law professor I had ever miserably faced. “I stole it from the aliens.”

             
“We’re here to help you,” he smiled congenially while his eyes bored into me. “I’m General Peerless and this is Dr. Montgomery.”

             
I wasn’t so sure I wanted their help. Something felt wrong. The Doctor and the General must have sensed my apprehension because without warning I was seized, a needle plunged into my arm, and I was laid down on a large cradle-like device, strapped in and carried off toward a helicopter.

             
“This is it,” I heard the Doctor say quietly to the General. “This is the break we’ve been waiting for.”

             
“Incredible,” the General said. Before I drifted off, I saw his stare fixed on me in delighted fascination.

CHAPTER THREE

             
Whatever they gave me that night left me in kind of a twilight world where the pain was gone and I felt pretty darn good. Not too coherent mind you, but pretty good. I knew I was in the helicopter with the doctor examining me. He was barking orders, to who I don’t know, but always he was smiling that warm smile at me. Oddly, wherever we were going didn’t seem too important to me. It was a long ride which I didn’t really want to end, being happily ensconced in the little pink cloud my mind was floating in.

             
Finally I felt the helicopter land, saw many hands reach up for me, and felt myself being strapped onto a gurney. I didn’t mind. A hospital was what I’d wanted though I couldn’t remember why. I was wheeled flat on my back into an immense hall shaped like a Quonset hut, domelike, but large enough to cover a football field. I didn’t catch sight of the entrance I’d come through, but I could see the far end of the hall which was made entirely of plate glass windows, floor to roof. Through the windows I saw a huge stone terrace and beyond that a forest.

             
A scenic view, I fancied. The hall itself was lovely, like an exquisite great library, appointed to perfection, a magnificent understatement. Potted trees, lush sofas, shelves full of books, oriental rugs placed carefully about, and vibrant bright paintings were everywhere. I am in somebody’s palace I thought exultantly inhaling the pricey smell of maroon leather, just as it registered on me that there were also people around, all of whom were staring at me.

             
Many of the people appeared to be my escorts. I had an entourage! Others at a distance just continued to stare. Whaterya’ll lookin’ at, I wanted to shout, but it didn’t seem quite worth the effort. Several of them smiled a little hopefully and waved to labcoat-in-the-woods Dr. Whatsisname. Faces vanished past me, all kinds of faces. Men, women, all ages. No children. All staring. That’s when I saw her.

             
I stared at her because she was my age and she was, as my father would have happily commented, a real looker. A black woman, petite with short cropped hair, standing quite a distance from my little group. She was wearing faded blue jeans and a T-shirt that clung tightly to her perfect form. I flashed her my best hi-there smile but what I got back surprised me, even in the drugged stupid state I was in. Her look was of pity, sheer pity.

             
TRUST NOT, I heard, and went to sit bolt upright, but the straps on the gurney held me back. The message had come from her I was sure, but she hadn’t said anything. She had spoken the way the aliens had, but nobody else could do that, right? Only me. I’d been kidnapped and I’d been taught how to communicate with them, and I’d gotten back. I was, for the first time in my life, unique. So how come she could do it too? I wanted to call out to her, but the gurney was moving at a fast clip and she passed from view.

             
I was wheeled almost directly up to the wall of windows and I got a good look through them. There was indeed a large outdoor terrace complete with patio furniture placed neatly about, the terrace itself ending at a wall several people were sitting on, looking out at the view below. It was set on a cliff of sorts, with treetops visible below and a forest ending at the shore of a shimmering lake. On each side of the lake there was a small mountain just large enough to obscure the view beyond. I expected to be wheeled out onto the terrace, but I was wheeled to the left, through a hallway extending out from the great hall I was leaving. There were people in this small hallway too, but they didn’t seem to be like the people I’d just seen. They were staring at me as well, but in a different manner. Not so much curiosity, more like determination, and these people were all wearing uniforms. Some of the uniforms looked military, some looked maintenance, but most looked medical. Thank God I bought the student health insurance, I sighed mentally. I’m covered for all of this. But how do I fill out the claim form so anyone believes it? If the insurance company won’t pay, I’ll sue. Represent myself, soon as I get back to law school, graduate, get admitted to the Bar.

             
A faint prick in my arm and I fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until the following morning. It was just as well I suppose, probably better I don’t know what intrusive and humiliating tests they performed on me, presumably in front of an audience.

             
I opened my eyes to sunshine and felt moved to tears from such a sight. I was in a sparkling white bed someone had thoughtfully elevated the head of, so upon awakening my first sight was of a window across the room and a brilliant green forest descending below it. I surveyed the room quickly. It was a bedroom not a hospital room, and very comfortably decorated. Bureaus, night stands, even a desk, chair and sofa, all looked new. There were three closed doors: closet, bathroom and exit, I figured. The one disconcerting thing in the room was the man sleeping sprawled in a recliner chair next to my bed, the doctor I’d met in the forest the night before. On the floor beside him I spotted a plastic chart of the type hospitals use regarding patients. My chart? Quietly I reached to retrieve it but the rustling I made caused the doctor to snap instantly awake.

             
“Ah, Mr. Hemmings,” he smiled amiably, his face suddenly shining with anticipation. “Awake at last. You got a nasty bump on the head there but nothing to worry about. I’ll give you medication for any headaches you may have. How are you feeling?”

             
Lousy I wanted to say. “Okay,” I said.

             
“That’s surprising. Most people after your, uh, experience, feel quite
un
well. Can you tell me what happened? What do you remember?”

             
“You’re not gonna believe it.”

             
“You’d be surprised.”

             
“Do you believe in aliens? Space aliens?”

             
“Most assuredly.”

             
“Don’t b.s. me.”

             
“I’m definitely not doing that, Mr. Hemmings. I
do
believe in aliens. Just tell me what you remember. Please.”

             
“I was kidnapped by them --aliens in a spaceship! That ship I flew back is one of theirs.”

             
“Extraordinary,” he whispered.

             
“I’m telling you the
truth.
”

             
“I know you are, Mr. Hemmings. We have the ship right here.”

             
“Here?”

             
“You’re at a very special facility, one that helps people like yourself. It’s just so unusual that you remember your encounter with the aliens. Most people don’t.”