The Angels of Destiny (12 page)

"I
’
m sorry
…
I didn
’
t mean to shout."

"Do you want to talk about it Rich?"

"There
’
s nothing to talk about. I
’
ve told you. I just need some rest that
’
s all."

"Why don
’
t you have an early night? Why don
’
t we both have an early night?" Susan said, smiling suggestively.

Richard was not able to think about such mundane matters as sex. His mind was firmly set on other things.

"Another time love, when I feel like I
’
ve got the energy to satisfy you."

“
I never thought I see the day when you
’
d turn down the offer of sex."

Richard didn
’
t respond to her comment because he wasn
’
t listening to her.

"Have you thought about seeing a doctor? Perhaps you
’
re run down and need some kind of tonic."

"What?
…
No, I
’
ll be okay."

"Then why don
’
t you get away for a few days and have a break like you used to do?"

“
Yeah
—
Yeah
—
Maybe that
’
s not a bad idea. I
’
ll give it some thought," he said, as he walked out of the room onto the veranda.

Susan looked pleased that her suggestion had been considered with some seriousness. Richard's mood worried her and she knew her dad was not the only thing on his mind.

Hell, she thought. What if he
’
s got another woman. I
’
ve just given him a reason to get away. She would approach the subject in bed tonight; she needed to get to the bottom of it.

It was evening and Westheimer was busy. McPherson indicated and turned off right into Brier Grove and continued the few hundred yards until the restaurant came into view. There were still parking spaces available and he pulled the truck into one near the main entrance. Even the short walk was uncomfortable in a relative humidity of 98%. Vicki was hungry but then she had been for months, ever since the baby had taken first priory over her energy supply. McPherson was looking forward to the evening and the chance to relax in an atmosphere of good food and wine.

"Good evening sir and madam, do you have a table reservation?" asked the smartly dressed waiter as they walked into the welcoming cool of the air-conditioned reception area.

"Yes, we do. It
’
s booked in the name of Doctor McPherson," he replied.

"Ah yes, I have your reservation. Please be seated, your waiter for the evening will be with you soon."

Subtle pink floor-lighting deflected off the white washed stone walls and lit the ceiling, where fishing nets draped as if drying in the heat of the sun. The smell of roasted coffee filled the air to complement the chatter of enthusiastic diners.

"Hi guys my name is Simon and I
’
m your waiter for this evening. Can I fix you some drinks while you take a look at the menu or would you like to come through now?"

"I think we
’
ll go through now," replied McPherson.

"Certainly, follow me please," said the waiter, as he gestured the way to their table.

At six months, it was now obvious that Vicki was pregnant and her stomach was a great source of amusement to McPherson, especially when the baby was active and kicking. He would lay in bed with his ear to her tummy listening to the variety of swishing noises that emanated from her
‘
lump,
’
as he called it.

The day of the wedding had yet to be agreed but they both planned to have a quiet affair with just family and a few close friends. Being in public with Vicki made McPherson very proud. Not only was she beautiful but she was radiant as well. Pregnancy certainly suited her.

After being shown to their table in a corner of the restaurant they spent some time in silence while they both studied the menu.

"What a difficult choice," said Vicki.

"I know. It
’
s all good."

"I think I
’
ll go for fish this evening
…
brain food you know."

"I feel like I need some of that, after today. All that data and not one Martian to be seen
…
or rather heard."

"Well, did you think it would be easy darling?"

“
No
…
not at all."

"Rob... What if God did make the heavens and the Earth?" Enquired Vicki with a frown.

Rob considered the question for a while. "I read somewhere that back in 1650, an Archbishop
‘
somebody
’
used the biblical chronology to sum the lifespans of all the descendants of Adam, and from that he calculated that the World was created by God in 4004 BC. That doesn
’
t add up does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," responded Rob. "We know now that the world is at least four-billion years old, not six thousand."

"Yeah, but that doesn
’
t explain how we got here does it. I mean as good as they are, these geologists, they don
’
t have an unbroken history of man
’
s evolution do they? Life on Earth may all be made of the same thing, but where did we get our souls? Maybe God
’
s hand had something to do with it, you know, the Holy Spirit and all that stuff. All right, perhaps not quite the 6 days as described in Genesis but maybe some kind of divine intervention. After all, the Bible wasn
’
t written by God was it. It
’
s man
’
s interpretation isn
’
t it? This baby that
’
s growing inside me, this little miracle of life; is it possible to say that it has evolved from a primordial broth? I find that hard to believe somehow."

"The official line is that we are the only ones, but you know Raymond
’
s view is very different. His experiences suggest that there are others out there and I must say I have seen some strange things."

"Have you seen another form of intelligent life with your own eyes?" Vicki asked quietly. McPherson hesitated for a moment.

"I
’
ve seen the bodies in Washington." Rob said in a whisper.

"Come on."

"Keep your voice down...I
’
ve seen them with my own eyes."

"You're kidding me!
”

"No, I am not kidding you."

"Well, what do they look like?"

"Please keep your voice down; this can
’
t get out Vicki, it
’
s top secret and I'm sworn to secrecy, you know that."

"Okay, so what do they look like?" she repeated, with a determined whisper.

McPherson looked edgy.

“
If you don
’
t tell me, I
’
ll kill you.
”

“…
Not that dissimilar to us I guess. They
’
re
dead
for a start, so they look kind of spooky anyway. They have no hair but they
’
ve got two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and ears. Their fingers are much longer than ours though."

"Five?"

"Yeah, five."

"So how do we know they
’
re aliens? They may be twins from a traveling freak show."

"They tried to cut their skin with surgical knives, and couldn
’
t." Vicki just stared at Rob in total disbelief.

"There
’
s no sign of tissue deterioration after 18 months at a temperature of 38 degrees, and if that
’
s not enough, they
’
re four times heavier than the equivalent human male. We don't know what sex they are, because they don't have bits."

"You mean a penis?"

"A penis or a vagina, there's nothing there at all."

"So how do they mate?"

"As they're dead it
’
s not easy to ask them is it?
”
Rob responded sarcastically.

"Am I likely to see this evidence?"

"I doubt it. Not even you are cleared at that level."

"So what happens when we start talking to Martians? Do we apologize and say we can
’
t stop long, because we don
’
t have the clearance?" The comment brought a smile to McPherson
’
s face.

"After all, it
’
s in Raymond
’
s interest to say these things, isn
’
t it? It
’
s keeping him in a job."

"Don
’
t you believe me?"

“
Yes,
…
Of course I believe you, I
’
m sorry
…
It
’
s just so bloody
incredible
."

"Raymond
’
s a very serious guy, I know I
’
ve worked with him."

"Where?"

"In Ohio, years ago. I was called out to a farm one day, very strange; an entire family had gone missing over night, their two dogs as well. Upstairs there was a tape recorder switched on and it recorded the whole incident. It was quite disturbing really."

"What happened?"asked Vicki, completely intrigued.

"Well, it appears that someone or something entered the house, that
’
s when the dogs started barking, unfortunately, because it made it difficult to hear what was being said after that. The old man seemed quite horrified by what he saw and took a couple of shots at the things. His wife was hysterical the whole time. You could hear the old man shouting: Don
’
t take us away. God help us. Please God help us.' The son
’
s voice can be heard saying. 'What are they, Mom, are they aliens? Will they hurt us, Mom?' McPherson stopped for a few moments to compose himself. "When I analyzed the audiotape it was clear that there were noises at the very top end of the audio range, almost inaudible to the human ear as if there was more than one and they were talking. Not talking as we know it, but definitely communicating.
’

"Do you know what they were saying?"

"We don
’
t know. All we know is that the entire family were never seen again."

"Rob that
’
s terrible. And, it
’
s very disturbing."

"They
’
re out there,Vicki and we must be the first to find them."

"Why don
’
t these alien visitors want to talk to us though?"

"I don
’
t have the answer to that one. Anyway, enough, just relax and enjoy yourself and worry about that tomorrow darling, my tummy
’
s making strange noises."

"I know the feeling well," said Vicki smiling, as she poured a glass of iced water. Her thoughts stayed on the subject of impenetrable alien skin. She wanted to ask Rob where they kept the aliens but the moment had gone. She was prepared to wait.

Back at the Ellington Building the next day.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the White House has instructed me that this project will continue into the foreseeable future at least." Hunter said, smiling. "The government wants us to carry on even though we haven
’
t yet had any success. In reality of course they realise that we
’
ve only just begun to listen to a source that is almost unimaginable in size and number. What we need now is a comprehensive plan of attack. Yuri and Rob will, over the next few days, set out a program of actions defining where in the Universe we point our sensors." He looked at McPherson as he spoke and he acknowledged him. "Are there any questions?"

Jerzy Rozanski raised his hand, like a child in a classroom.

"Yes, Jerzy?"

"Do we know if the Chinese are having any success?"

"We believe not. At least that
’
s the latest word from intelligence. Remember, we are able to listen to signals far weaker than them and they
’
re using ground based technology that only allows them to listen to a specific point in the sky for under 12 hours a day. We listen constantly thanks to our technology. As George Washington once said my friends. Put none but Americans on guard to-night."