Flight to Ascendency
Lorn Skye
Flight of Ascendency
By Lorn Skye
© 2024 Lorn Skye
Cover Art by Tugba
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Chapter One
It was a boringly normal flight, like hundreds of others that I had taken. There was no turbulence that was out of the normal, there were no storms and no lightning, the departure was on time and we landed within a few minutes of the scheduled time.
Even now, thinking back on the flight, it seemed no different than hundreds of other flights I had taken before. But that flight from Memphis to Toronto, that exceptionally mundane flight, where nothing seemed out of the ordinary was the beginning of my new life. And it all started as we arrived at Pearson Airport in Toronto.
Maybe I should start my tale there, with what happened as I stepped off the plane.
I was distracted by the flight attendant as I turned the corner to step off the plane. I had been upgraded to first class, a fairly routine occurrence for a frequent flier like I was, and the seat beside me was empty so I had plenty of room to stretch out. I had been in the first row, so I was the first to get off the airplane.
The looks that the flight attendant had been giving me the whole flight left little to the imagination. Her voice, the sultry undertone when she had offered me a drink and “Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir” made it clear that all I needed to do was ask. And while it was tempting, I was already a member of the mile-high club and I needed to focus on the business meetings that I had planned for the rest of the day. As I exited the plane, she handed me a card with her name and phone number written on it.
So, while busy trying to extricate myself from that situation, I didn’t see the gate agent standing just at the exit of the plane. And so, of course, I walked right into her, stumbled, tripped, and dropped my bag, causing papers to scatter across the jet bridge.
“Oh my God!” I heard her exclaim as I landed on the ground, “Watch where you are-”
I heard the pause, if a pause could be audible, and the sharp intake of breath. Then she was kneeling beside me.
“Oh sir, please forgive me, I didn’t know you were coming out. No one told me to expect you yet.”
I just nodded, having no idea what she was talking about and not knowing what else to do. I just started to gather up my belongings so I could get out of the way of the people behind me.
Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to do.
“Oh Sir, please let me do that for you,” the woman cried out and began to carefully gather the few papers and cords that were scattered and blowing around the jet bridge. I watched, somewhat stupefied as she carefully neatened them and handed them back to me with her head bowed. I took them and stuffed them into my bag, noticing that she appeared to be shaking as she stood there, staring down at the ground.
With everything restored, I stood to clear the jet bridge, cognizant that I was holding up the line of those waiting to disembark. I turned to apologize, but there was no one in the door.
The woman, who was dressed in an airline uniform, had taken my bag and proceeded up the jet bridge, so I turned and hurried after her, not wanting my bag to disappear from my sight.
“I’ll take that now, thank you,” I said to the woman when I caught up with her, reaching to take my bag.
“I’m happy to carry your bag for you, sir,” she replied.
“Thank you, but I’ve got it.”
“As you wish, sir,” she replied and meekly handed the bag to me and stepped back, head still cast down and looking at the ground.
She appeared to be Japanese, so I wrote off her deference to her Asian culture, but that was only the beginning.
As I neared the end of the jet bridge, the door was opened by a gentleman who seemed to bow as he opened the door. I nodded to the man and walked out, looking up to figure out where I was and which way to baggage claim. It took a couple of moments to realize that it was very quiet in the terminal, and there weren’t any people waiting for flights. It appeared as though the terminal was empty save for the airport staff.
It was then I noticed the four police officers standing to the side. They appeared to be dressed in the full uniform of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. When one of them noted I was looking their way, she walked over to me.
“Sir, we’re ready to go anytime you are. We didn’t have much time to prepare, so we’ll need to walk quickly if you don’t mind,” she said in a lovely Irish accent.
“Am I in trouble or something?” I asked, not sure what was going on and why there were police waiting for me when I exited the airplane.
She laughed softly, “I can only imagine the kind of trouble you can get into, Sir, but I’d like to get going to keep your exposure limited.”
Not knowing what else to do I nodded, and as if telepathically, the other officers gathered around me and we started walking down the corridor.
“Why is the terminal so empty?” I asked.
“We directed the plane to an unused portion of the terminal to keep your exposure limited,” the same female officer replied.
When we neared the end of the corridor, I noticed that we were headed for the normal exit and not the immigration corridor. Normally, the regular exit is blocked so you have to go through immigration.
“Umm,” I stammered, “Don’t we need to go through immigration?”
“We’ve alerted them that you have arrived,” she replied.
Before I could object further, we were whisked through the door by additional guards who were waiting there, quickly closing the door behind us and then falling into the formation.
As we moved along the walkway that overlooked the baggage claim area, I noted the masses of people that were gathered below, all of them looking up at me as I walked through, cheering and yelling as I went along. There were a few flashes from cameras in the crowd and what looked like a television camera set up to capture the scene.
I was starting to feel a bit like a celebrity, but I was just a normal guy from Memphis, Tennessee. This wasn’t my first trip to Canada, but I was certain that visitors weren’t treated like this, and my company was far too small to garner this kind of attention.
Soon enough we were through the terminal and another officer was standing near the exit with my suitcase. Then I was hustled through the door and into a limousine that was waiting there.
It wasn’t until we were on the road and headed downtown that I finally got my wits about me and wanted to ask some questions. The problem, was that there was no one to ask. There was just the driver and his English was a bit difficult to understand.
Instead, I spent the time trying to recall what had happened along the way. Replaying the flight over and over in my head, and the way the gate attendant had reacted when I bumped into her. Even the short glimpse of the crowd outside the airport was mind-boggling. It appeared that there were reporters there with cameras and microphones.
And even now, there was a convoy of cars taking me into the city, two motorcycle escorts, and three black cars in addition to mine. I wasn’t sure that the prime minister got this same level of protection.
All too soon, we were pulling up in front of the Fairmont Royal York in downtown Toronto. The ongoing work on Union Station made the traffic around Front Street a mess usually, but police corridors had the whole area blocked off. However, replacing the cars and clustered all around the entrance, was a throng of reporters. Cameras were running, flashes were going off like crazy, and microphones were all pointed toward the car. A small corridor was being maintained by police leading into the hotel and I noticed a red carpet, literally a new red carpet, that led the way into the hotel.
“Well, I guess everyone knows I am here,” I muttered sarcastically.
“Oh, yes, yes sir,” replied the limo driver, “It was on the radio and everything.” It was the best English he had spoken the entire trip.
And then the door was opened and the cacophony of the press poured through the door.
The dash to get inside the hotel was a blur. It was a mad mass of humanity screaming questions and yelling my name. Up until then, I had harbored the hope that this was all just a case of mistaken identity but when strangers are yelling your name and sticking cameras and microphones in your face, that illusion quickly disappears as an option.
When I got into the hotel, I was escorted directly to the elevator. The doors closed with just me and the hotel manager, and I found I had to ask, “I take it we are heading directly to the room?”
“Of course, Sir, the airline called as soon as you landed and we have our best suite available for you.”
“But do you know who I am?” I asked, finally just asking the question that seemed too obvious to ask.
“Yes sir, I would bet that everyone knows who you are!”
“And why is that?” I asked, trying to get a straight answer to what had happened to me.
This question appeared to fluster the poor gentleman and he stammered for a bit before his reply, “Because you are Tim Dekker”
I took pity on the hotel manager and quit asking him questions, for which he seemed eternally grateful. A moment later, the doors opened and we were on the top floor of the hotel and the royal suite was open and waiting for me. There was a line of staff at the door, and as we neared, they bowed their heads and refused to make eye contact.
I expected the manager to introduce them, but instead, we walked straight by them and into the suite. I noted that they filed in silently behind us, save for two security-looking types who remained at their post by the door.
I noticed my suitcase was already in the room and sat by the closet. One of the housekeepers walked over to it and started to unpack it, carefully hanging clothes in the closet and folding others into drawers. I just hoped that my clothes were clean and there were no holes in my socks.
The rest of the staff went about their work in the suite while the manager showed me around. And while he didn’t introduce the staff, I noted what they were there to do. For instance, in addition to my housekeeper who was unpacking my clothes and putting them away, I had a full-time butler who would assist me in getting what I needed and a chef. Two security guards were posted full-time, and I had been assigned a personal secretary, whom I was informed, would be available to travel with me should I so desire.
When we were done with the tour of the suite, the manager turned to me. “We are so honored that you have chosen to stay with us on your visit to Canada. Please do let me know if you need anything at all.”
Once I found a moment to myself, sequestered away in the study of the hotel suite, I decided to call my assistant to see if I could figure out what was happening to me.
“Mister Dekker’s office,” she answered the phone as she always did, and I released a deep breath that I didn’t realize that I had been holding.
“Mary, it’s me, Tim.”
“Oh, yes sir. It’s so good to hear from you. What can I do for you, sir?”
I paused, as Mary never called me sir.
“I was just calling to get an update on my meetings tomorrow here in Toronto. Have there been any changes or updates I should be aware of?”
There was an uncomfortable pause and I wondered if Mary was still on the line, but then she spoke just as I was about to speak.
“Those meetings were all canceled some time ago. I apologize that I didn’t let you know sooner. All of the contracts have been signed off and work is well underway.”
“Seriously, even the Atkins account?”
“Yes, they were one of the first to send in their contract. It seems that you have nothing on your calendar for the next few weeks so enjoy your time in Canada!”
“Doesn’t James want me back in the office?” I asked, somewhat stunned. James was a longtime friend, but he could be a bit of a slavedriver. I worked because I wanted to, but James and I still tried to set an example for the other employees.
“No, not at all. We were all so glad to hear from you that he told me to tell you to take as much time as you need. So, enjoy your time and we’ll see you later. But please do call on me if you need anything, anything at all,” she added.
“But has there been any news about me, or anything else going on I should be aware of?” I asked, growing somewhat desperate for information given how even Mary was treating me.
“I’m not sure what you mean, but we were all so happy to hear you arrived in Toronto! Call if you need anything at all. It is so good to hear from you.”
I sighed and thought about pressing her for more details, but I was fairly certain that I wouldn’t learn any more than I already had. I quickly ended our conversation and tried to think of other ways of figuring out what was happening.
I stepped out of the study and found the butler standing just beside the door.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
“Would it be possible to get a newspaper?” I asked.
“Certainly sir, which would you prefer? We have the Globe and Mail, the Star, and the National Post.”
“Can I get one of each?” I replied, figuring that the more information I had, the better off I would be.
“Of course, sir, I’ll return in just a moment.”
Before I could return to the study for some solitude, I noticed a young woman standing beside me.
“Can I offer you something to drink or perhaps a small snack before dinner?” she asked.
I looked down at my wrist, realizing that I had left my watch on the desk in the study. I figured it was early afternoon, despite the fact that it felt like an eternity since I left Memphis.
“Yes, please, I’ll have a bourbon and coke. Perhaps that will help me understand what is going on here!”
“Of course, sir, I have Knob Creek as I believe that is your favorite brand?”
I nodded and she quietly scampered from the room. I noticed that she was quite cute as she hurried away, but my musings were disrupted by the return of the butler with the day’s newspapers.
“I also brought an iPad so you could read the latest news online and most of these papers were printed this morning before you arrived,” he added as he handed me the papers.
I turned my attention to the newspapers which were of no help whatsoever. They had gone to press last night and I hadn’t arrived until mid-morning. I threw the papers down in disgust and turned to pick up the iPad to see if there was anything online about my arrival.
There was my drink on the table, and it was mixed to perfection. I took a long sip of the drink and turned on the iPad to read the daily news. The drink was well made, just the perfect mix of bourbon and a splash of coke, so I was happy when I managed not to inhale it when I saw the front page of the online edition of the Globe and Mail.
“Savior Returns” read the headlines over a picture of me walking along the corridor in the airport.
The other papers had similar headlines, though the picture seemed to vary from the airport to the front of the hotel mob scene. Even the USA Today online edition reported a similar story.
As I read the stories I got the gist that sometime in the recent past, there was an event that took place, the details of which were a bit sketchy in the articles, where I had sacrificed my life to save the planet from certain destruction. They had all witnessed my disappearance into a disturbance of some kind after which I seemed to have vanished for several years.
I quickly drained the rest of my drink and searched my name on Google.
I was shocked by the results, millions of hits, in languages from all over the world. Most were dated from just the past few hours, from my arrival at Pearson Airport in Toronto. So, I pulled up the advance search and set the search for items dated before today.
And that was when things got really weird.
The first result was a Wikipedia entry. What I read there was unbelievable. Three years ago, to the day, I entered a large alien spaceship and saved the world.
It was June 4th, 2018, when an emergency alert was broadcast around the world. At first, NASA thought it was an asteroid headed for Earth, one that they had not identified. But the asteroid wasn’t an asteroid, it was a spaceship. Over the next several weeks, it approached the planet, slowing and entering orbit around the planet. Despite numerous attempts to make contact with the alien ship, there was no response at all.
Finally, after two weeks in orbit, a rocket was prepared and sent to rendezvous with the craft. However, as soon as the rocket was launched, the alien ship left orbit and settled in the middle of a field on the other side of the Mississippi River from Memphis, Tennessee.
For two days the ship sat in that field and there was no sign of anything going on inside it. Every scientific observation that could be done showed a large rock, consistent with an asteroid. When a scientist approached the asteroid, nothing happened. They reported that it felt like a rock, not even warm from its entry into the atmosphere.
They tried to test the rock, to see what the mineral composition was, but they couldn’t get a sample of it. It failed to give up a piece of itself, being harder than even a diamond-tipped chisel.
On the third day, a message went out from the ship. It was broadcast on every frequency, repeating over and over, in every spoken language on the planet. The message was as follows:
“We have observed and studied your planet. You are a dangerous race, a hazard to everyone. We have found no redeeming qualities nor even one individual that should be spared. You have ten rotations of this planet to find an individual that is worthy of being spared. If you cannot, we will eradicate all human life on this planet.”
And then a doorway into the asteroid opened. For three days people lined up to go in the door. The crazies who wanted to go into space, the bible thumpers who were certain this was God testing them, the politicians and world leaders. They all went in but no one came out of the asteroid.
On the ninth day, a new message was broadcast, again on every frequency and every known language.
We have examined the many candidates you have sent us and found them to be lacking. You have one rotation left to find an individual that is worthy.
By now, the line outside the ship was down to two or three people, and by noon that day, there was no one in line. Of all the people who went into the ship, none had emerged and the militaries of the world were preparing to attack the craft.
And here is where I came into the picture. Apparently, I had gotten into my car at work and driven to the site. I hadn’t said anything to anyone and I hadn’t left any notes or said goodbye. I had walked straight into the asteroid, and within a few minutes, a final message went out to the world.
“We have found this candidate acceptable. Tim Dekker is worthy of saving the planet. We will leave your planet tomorrow and Tim Dekker will be returned to you in the future.”
And then they left. They left no trace. The only sign they had been there was the video from the cameras that captured the event. The many measurements of the asteroid showed that something had been there, something that was massive, but the ground looked untouched. There was no indentation, not a bent blade of grass. Perhaps the only sign that was present was the trampled ground around where the ship had been located.
And, of course, there were the missing persons. All the many people who had gone into the asteroid, including me, had never been seen again.
Until I appeared getting onto an airplane in the Memphis airport headed to Toronto.
When I looked up, it was dark outside and I realized I was quite hungry. I tried to think back to that day, to the events that had happened, but I had no recollection of the events. I didn’t remember the asteroid appearing, or the call for worthy individuals, and I certainly didn’t remember going into the ship or anything that happened thereafter.
I realized that I did have a gap in my memory, but it didn’t seem like a gap to me. It seemed like yesterday was June 3rd and I was supposed to take a trip to Toronto on June 4th, which is what I thought today was. In fact, it was June 4th, just three years later than I realized. I mean, who looks at the year on your boarding pass or the newspaper, or anything else for that matter?
I was stiff and tired from sitting and reading when a soft voice spoke from across the room. I was a bit startled.
“Sir, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you need to eat. It is quite late and I was worried about you.”
I turned and saw the young woman from earlier who had made such an excellent bourbon and coke.
“I am a bit hungry, now that you mention it.”
“The kitchen called earlier to say that they would be happy to stay open all night to prepare whatever you might like.”
I thought for a moment what I might like. I decided I would keep it simple and go with typical Canadian fare. Poutine, a Montréal smoked meat sandwich, a pint of Rickards Red, and a large bowl of vanilla ice cream with Cadbury chocolate sauce.
I related my thoughts to her and she nodded and backed out of the room, as a servant would leave the room of the Queen of England. I certainly wasn’t royalty, but with everything that I had read and everything that had happened since I landed, I didn’t think that anything that happened now would surprise me.
And as I would come to learn, those could be famous last words.
Dinner was delivered to the room by two young women who were dressed in the uniform of the hotel, but their uniforms were as tight as I could imagine them being without being made of spandex. There was little if anything that was left to the imagination under those uniforms and if they were wearing undergarments, they would have had to be made of plastic wrap.
As they set up dinner in the small dining room that was part of my suite, they seemed to have to bend over quite a bit, making sure they were facing me or directly away from me every time.
I wondered if they were twins, and at a minimum, I was certain they were sisters, and clearly of Nordic heritage as they were tall, blonde, extremely curvy, and of pale complexion. When I offered to sign the check, the woman who was looking after me in the suite shook her head at them and ushered them out into the hall, closing the door firmly behind them.
“I apologize for their behavior and will let management know of their disrespect toward you, Sir,” she said quite submissively.
“I wouldn’t want to get them in trouble,” I ventured, “But I don’t understand why two women that young would want anything to do with an older man such as me. I mean, even women my age don’t have a lot of interest in me.”
She looked at me as if I had grown a second head and her mouth was moving as if she were trying to say something, but she just couldn’t get the words to come out.
Finally, she seemed to regain her composure.
“I can only speak for myself, Sir, and I have read the accounts about your life before the event, but I would hope that if I had met you before the event, I would have paid attention to someone like you.”
That response took me by surprise, and then it was my turn to search for a response. I sat down at the table, letting my instincts take over while my higher brain function shifted through what she had just said.
It was only when I had regained my wits that I noticed that she was again slowly backing out of the room to leave me alone with my meal.
“Please stay and accompany me while I eat. Maybe I can order something for you?” I ventured.
She froze and got that deer in the headlights look again.
“I would love to sit and share a meal with you, Sir, but it wouldn’t be proper,” she answered and again a submissive tone in her voice rang through.
“Didn’t you just say that you would pay attention to a guy like me?” I asked, “Then sit down and at least talk with me while I eat. Maybe you could shed some light on what has happened to me.”
She seemed to struggle with a decision for a moment, and then she nodded almost imperceptibly before walking to the table and taking a chair near the other end of the table.
“No, sit up here beside me,” I said.
And again, she froze, seeming to struggle with my request, her face a surprising mixture of emotions, before she walked down the table and took the seat at my left hand.
I took a bite of food and realized just how hungry I was. For a few moments, I was lost in the sensation of the warm poutine, a true Canadian delicacy. It was only when she cleared her throat that I realized I had ignored her since I had asked her to join me.
“Sir, may I ask a question?” she said rather timidly.
“Of course, but only if you tell me your name.”
“My name is Alexandra, but I go by Alex.”
She paused and when it was clear that I was waiting for her question, she continued.
“Is it true that you don’t remember anything about what happened?”
I nodded. “As best I know, I left my office Friday afternoon, went home and packed my suitcase. I then spent a rather boring weekend at home alone before getting up this morning and driving to the airport. I was supposed to be in meetings today, trying to discuss projects that we would be starting in Canada. My office confirmed that all those meetings were canceled and all the contracts were in place already.”
“Do you remember anything about the time you were in the spaceship, or why you entered it?”
“I don’t even remember a spaceship being spotted. The last thing I remember is the day before that announcement went out,” I replied somewhat exasperated.
Alex looked down at her lap, her dark brown hair draping around her face hiding her expression from me.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I am having a hard time absorbing this. I wasn’t questioning your truthfulness at all.”
She sounded so scared and apologetic that I was immediately sorry for raising my voice and showing my frustration.
“And I am sorry that I let my frustration about this situation be directed toward you just then,” I responded, reaching over the table to push her hair out of the way so I could see her face.
She cringed when I touched her and I could see her shaking. I pulled back and wondered what would make her so afraid of me, of this situation.
“You can touch me if you want, I don’t mind,” she said, quite hesitantly.
When I pushed her hair back I could see that she was blushing like crazy.
“I can’t believe that I am acting like this, I feel like a teenage schoolgirl again.”
“Why?”
“Because I am in the same room with the most desirable man in the whole world,” she replied as if I were insane.
That made me pause. I was in my early thirties and while I had never lacked for female companionship, I wasn’t exactly the most handsome guy around. But then again, I supposedly saved the world, sacrificing myself. How must that seem to someone, I wondered?
Alex reached up and took my hand, pressing it to her face then, tilting her face into the palm of my hand. I was struck by just how warm and soft her skin was. It had been a while since I had been in a steady relationship, my last girlfriend had cheated on me and when I had discovered it, I had not been able to trust women for a while.
Before I realized what I was doing, my hand was traveling along her cheek, over her ear, and into her hair, my fingers wrapping in her hair and pulling her head back so that she had to look up at me.
I’m not sure what I expected to see on her face, but what was there was pure lust. Her pupils were dilated, her lips were parted and her chest and face were flush. Somehow I also knew her breathing rate was increased as was her heart rate.
I wanted her so badly right then. I could feel the arousal surging through me, the desire to grab her and carry her back to the bedroom, toss her on the bed, and have my way with her. And I knew there would be no resistance from her, that she wanted it as well.
But it felt unreal, it felt wrong. She wanted me for something that I had done, for the ultimate self-sacrifice. But I hadn’t done that, at least not that I could remember. Was it right to reap the rewards for something that you had no recollection of ever doing?
She looked up and realized that I wasn’t going to take her, and taking my decision as rejection, she ran from the room sobbing.
The butler peeked around the corner to ensure everything was all right with me, and seeing that I was fine, in good English fashion, shrugged his shoulders and returned to the entry hall.
Taking a bite of food and finishing my dinner, I decided to turn in. My mind was still in turmoil as I tried to digest all I had read and heard. Maybe a good sleep was what I needed, though I doubted that sleep would come easily.
Chapter Two
The sun beaming through the windows of the hotel awakened me. I hadn’t thought to close them as the setting sun on the other side of the hotel hadn’t much bothered me when I went to bed. Toronto wasn’t that far north, but far enough that the sun rose early in the morning in the summer and you needed dark curtains if you wanted to sleep late.
I found the paper lying outside my bedroom door. It was the Globe and Mail and it reminded me that it was a Wednesday, not a Tuesday as it should have been if I hadn’t lost three years somehow. Of course, the fact that I was waking up in the Royal Suite of the Fairmont Royal York was also a clue that something very strange was going on.
I was just looking around for the coffee maker when there was a tentative knock on the door. I pulled on a robe, making sure I was decent, and then called out for them to enter.
It was Alex from last night and she looked quite tentative, almost scared to come into the room.
“I saw that the paper was gone and I thought you were awake. Could I get you some breakfast, perhaps some tea or coffee?” she asked, her voice quavering.
“Alex, we need to talk about what happened last night,” I started but she started shaking so badly that I thought she was either going to bolt from the room again or fall. So, I changed tactics.
“Sit down in that chair!” I commanded, and to my surprise, she immediately sat without any hesitation.
“Now look, I think you are an incredibly attractive woman, and any man my age would be thrilled to have a woman more than a decade younger than him, who looks as beautiful as you, as a companion. However, you want to be with me because of something I did, something that I don’t remember, and somehow that feels wrong to me. It feels like I am taking advantage of you. It would make me feel like a monster.”
Alex paused and I could almost see the force of will go through her body before she gathered herself and looked up at me. In her wide and beautiful eyes, I saw that I had just made the situation both better and worse. While I was sure that we would be able to get past the events of last night, I feared her hero worship was even worse now.
Ale nodded and smiled at me. “I understand Mr. Dekker and let me apologize for my behavior. I wasn’t very professional and let my feelings and emotions get the best of me. I certainly wasn’t considering your feelings and emotions.”
She paused and looked down at the floor as if she were gathering her thoughts, but then she shook her head and looked back up at me and I could see that she was all business again.
“Now how about some coffee?” she asked, “And I’ll put in an order for some breakfast?”
I smiled and nodded, taking the menu she handed me.
I stood in front of the closet and tried to figure out what to wear, having no idea what I was going to be doing today. I had gotten an email from Jim, my boss, explaining that he had gotten an email from a very nice employee at the Fairmont by the name of Alex who had explained that I had no memory of what had happened. He told me in no uncertain terms that they still considered me an employee, but to take as much time as I needed before coming back to work. And of course, he would keep my memory loss confidential unless I told him otherwise.
So here I was in a foreign country, in a big city with nothing to do. Of course, I wondered how I was going to pay for this suite, so I decided that I needed to get a few items like that taken care of right away. Deciding that I needed to look the part of a business person as I negotiated for the room and other services, I pulled out one of my power suits and proceeded to dress for battle as I might when negotiating contracts for my company.
When I was ready, I walked into the main lounge and found Alex there waiting for me.
“Alex, can you ask the hotel manager to come up to the suite as I need to discuss the further use of the suite with him.”
Alex paled but nodded, walking quickly over to the house phone.
“Is there anything I can do, Sir,” she asked as she dialed, “Is there some problem with the service?”
“No, the service is fine, but I cannot afford such luxury as this on my salary. Now that I think about it, I have three years’ worth of bills that I need to take care of back home!”
I felt the panic start to set in and the world went a little fuzzy around the edges just then. Suddenly Alex was by my side, helping me sit in a chair.
“Just breathe, that’s it, just slow, deep breaths.” she was softly saying.
Once it was clear I wasn’t going to pass out, she smiled at me and took my hand.
“Now Mr. Dekker, while you may not remember what happened, you need to be gracious and let people say thank you for what you did. A small part of that is this hotel is providing this room and the service that goes with it free of charge. It is great publicity for the hotel to have you staying here and only the queen herself coming for a visit would cause a problem with needing this floor. I suspect that even she would defer to you!”
“And as for your house and bills in Memphis, I can assure you that it has all been taken care of. There is a foundation that took over care of your home shortly after you disappeared. Your home quickly because a shrine and people from all over the world, from all religions and countries, came to pay their respects. Your home is now an even bigger attraction than Graceland!”
While I was sure that Alex wasn’t intentionally lying to me, this was a hard tale to swallow. My modest home in mid-town Memphis was a shrine? A shrine to what, I wondered?
“So, this hotel room is free for me to use as long as I wish?” I asked, not quite believing her.
“Absolutely true,” came the answer from the doorway as the hotel manager, the same man who rode up the elevator with me yesterday, walked into the suite. “While I do not need to know the details to preserve your privacy, I have been informed by Ms. Alex that you do not fully comprehend the gratitude we have for what you did. But rest assured, the use of this suite, and all of the services of this hotel are yours to use for as long as you wish. It is our pleasure to have you as a guest.”
“Thank you, I am humbled by your generosity and you have a lovely hotel and a wonderful staff,” I replied, specifically indicating Alex. “If there is anything I can do for you please do let me know,” I added, mostly out of habit.
“Well, now that you mention it, there has been a throng of reporters camped out in front of the hotel hoping to catch sight of you or hoping you might make an appearance or some kind of statement. Have you considered any of those things?”
“I hadn’t, not really. I’m still digesting everything and adjusting to this,” I replied.
“If I might make a suggestion, a personal assistant, or a spokesperson might be a good idea about now.” the manager commented. “There are several good communication agencies here in Toronto, I could have a few of them send over candidates for an interview?”
Alex spoke up then.
“Mr. Dekker, I was a communications major and interned at King Communications here in Toronto. I’d be happy to serve as a liaison for you with them if you’d trust me to do so.”
“So long as you don’t mind me stealing your employee for a bit of additional activity, I think we have a solution,” I suggested to the manager.
“I look forward to hearing from Alex about a plan so that we can better manage the crowd downstairs,” he said and with a half bow, turned and departed the room.
Alex looked at me, silently asking permission to depart as well, and with a nod from me, she was out the door as well.
And so, I found myself alone in the suite again, wondering what to do with myself. I decided to try and catch up on news that was about aliens that had occurred in the past three years.
I groaned as I looked again at the schedule. If I had known this was the alternative I would have happily continued to take the solitude of life in my hotel suite with nothing to do and only the hotel staff to keep me company.
Alex had returned a short time later with an attractive blonde by the name of Jennifere Winemiller who worked for King Communications. She and Alex were all business as they talked about the many ways I could approach the press downstairs. Alex had insisted that Jennifere sign a non-disclosure agreement before we started speaking. Only then did Alex let me tell her about my lack of memory of anything that had happened.
To her credit, Jennifere was the consummate professional. She immediately launched into a series of options and strategies. There was everything from the hermit option where I did nothing and said nothing to the press and minimized my exposure to the Hollywood star option where I soaked up the limelight.
She had also gotten in touch with the foundation in Memphis, hoping to coordinate a public approach with them, only to find that they were on their way to Toronto on the chance they would be able to meet with me.
We decided on a strategy of minimal exposure but not reclusive, accepting invitations on a very selective basis, trying to cultivate an image of a socially conscious person, but without an “agenda” that the far-right or the far-left could claim.
It would start with a short press conference which would occur tomorrow at 10 am. That would give the story time for the evening news in Europe the noon news on the east coast and the morning news on the west coast. It would make the overnight circuit in Asia and greet them in the morning. Jennifere worked with me on a few themes and promised to return this evening with a draft that we could practice going over.
We’d then get an early start with a few practices in the ballroom before they opened it to the media. Then we’d have a working breakfast with some practice questions and a few more practice sessions before the big event. I was already nervous and dreading the event.
“Tomorrow, we’ll need to address how you want to handle requests for appearances. While you could opt to contract out this work, even though this may sound contrary to my firm, I would advise you to hire a personal secretary, someone who is accountable only to you.”
Now knowing a little about working across international borders and hiring and paying people in another country, when I heard this, I just groaned.
“But could your firm handle it until I get back to Memphis and set about doing that?” I asked. “I do not want to have to navigate the Byzantine laws that make up the labor and employment rules in both our countries.”
Jennifere and Alex both found that amusing because they both started laughing.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Alex said contritely when she realized that I wasn’t laughing. “You have been proclaimed a citizen of the world, hence you can hire and do business anywhere in the world. It was a UN decree, but adopted by almost all countries, at least any that you might want to visit.”
I agreed to consider the proposal, and Jennifere gathered her things and prepared to leave, while Alex busied herself with her job in the rest of the suite, leaving me, once again, with nothing to do. So, I flipped on the television to see what was happening.
“Sir, excuse me,” I heard Jennifere ask quietly from my side.
When I turned and nodded to her, she continued, “I know we just met, and my recommendation doesn’t carry much weight, but I’ve known Alex for a while and she hasn’t had many breaks in life. She is a hard worker and very talented. Her skills would make her an excellent personal assistant for someone in your position. She is also fluent in several languages and that may come in quite handy in the future.”
“Thank you for your recommendation. I’ve been impressed with her so far.” I replied. She was a hard worker, that was obvious, and if she had been trained to deal with the media, that would be very useful. The language skill I hadn’t seen, but I had no reason to doubt it. It was just the hero worship that worried me.
With that, she nodded and left the suite, and I spent the rest of the morning watching the news and reading the paper, trying to catch up with current events and what the media were reporting about my return.
Amazingly, there was no word about me leaking out from the hotel. Hotel staff were notorious for their leaks and I was more than a little impressed with the Fairmont and its ability to keep things quiet. While it was true that my exposure to the staff had been limited to Alex, the manager, a butler, and a few odd housekeeping staff, I expected a few cell phone pictures to be sneaking out, or at least a few rumors.
At noon, Alex knocked on the door to the study, where I had started to spend most of my time.
“Sir, could I speak to you for a moment?” she asked.
She had changed out of her hotel uniform but was dressed in a very stylish business suit and heels that at once screamed sexy and at the same moment screamed that you had better take her seriously despite the fact that she was a very feminine and sensual woman.
I nodded and she saw my look of uncertainty at her change in appearance.
“I went off-duty at noon, Sir. Ingrid is here and will be in shortly to ask about lunch. I was hoping to ask for a moment of your time before I gave you a copy of my resume to apply for the job of your personal assistant. I realize that I am being somewhat aggressive about this, but I would point out two things: first, you badly need someone immediately, and two, I am qualified and very much need the job.”
With that she handed me her resume and pulled up her profile on LinkedIn on the iPad I had been using.
“Can I return at 3 pm for an interview? May I remind you that it would be beneficial to have your personal secretary in place to assist with the preparation before tomorrow’s press conference?”
“Can you return in 30 minutes?” I countered.
She nodded a bright smile on her face and walked smartly from the room, closing the door behind her.
While I might be a sucker for a woman in heels and a sharp business suit, I wasn’t a fool and I fully intended to check out a few of her references, so I sent a quick email to Mary, whom I considered my personal assistant. I gave her a quick set of phone numbers and Alex’s name to verify employment.
I made a couple of quick phone calls to references and those who had given recommendations on Linked-In. I only got in touch with three, but they related a similar story, a hard worker who had bad breaks and family health problems that had limited her work.
Ingrid had come in once, and if I had been expecting a blonde Swedish goddess, I got instead an old matron who had a withering look that would put a Valkyrie to shame. I only hoped she was on my side! I asked for a light lunch for two to be served at 1 pm.
At 12:45, exactly thirty minutes after her departure, Alex returned with a knock on my door. I could see just a glimmer of nervousness in her eyes, but she stood resolute and when I asked her to join me in the dining room, she strode confidently there, following my lead and choosing a chair at the head of the table just to my left.
“Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Dekker,” she began, “I know that you already have a personal assistant in Mary Atkins, and while she is very talented, very protective of her boss, and very capable of handling most of the needs of a businessman, she does not have the training or the skills needed to deal with the press. In fact, your company had hired a firm to do that for them after your disappearance, and all questions regarding you are directed to them.”
“However, I firmly believe that by working as a team, we can provide you with a level of service that will be unparalleled. I spoke briefly with her on the phone this morning and I believe we are quite compatible and can divide work between us so that there are no conflicts.”
I could see that she was about to go on, but I had just gotten off the phone with Mary who assured me that she was strongly supportive of Alex’s application and that all of her employment verifications had checked out so far, but she had only gotten through a few of them.
“So, Alex, when can you start?” I asked.
There was a pause as the fact that I was offering her the job worked its way through her cerebral cortex. “Oh right away, Mr. Dekker, right away. I’ve already cleared it with the hotel and they are happy with me leaving to work for you immediately.”
“Good, now, let’s talk about salary. I have no idea how I am going to pay you, but I assume that you have some idea that I can pay you and a salary you would like?”
“Sir, you know I would do this job for the experience and profile of working for you. After this job, I could likely get any job I wanted. But I do need to pay rent and bills, and from Jennifere I understand that the foundation in Memphis is quite well funded, so I don’t think asking for $90,000 is out of the question.”
“Pending my understanding of the funding, then you are hired,” I replied.
Alex wasn’t going to let it go so easily. “Sir, if I can raise the money to pay my salary, would that remove any barriers for you? I don’t think you fully appreciate the position you are in and I want to do a little demonstration for you.”
She paused and turned the television to the local channel. Then she picked up the phone.
“Jennifere, it’s Alex, Mr. Dekker has agreed to hire me, but he is concerned that he cannot pay my salary. If you haven’t announced the press conference, I’d like to go down and make the announcement and raise some money for my salary and your fees while I am there.”
She made a bit more small talk and seemed to take some delight at sharing with Jennifere my inability to take advantage of my situation, but in the end, she was headed out the door and downstairs to announce the press conference to the throngs. Her only request to me was to watch on the television.
Sure enough, about ten minutes later, the television news channel broke with a live story from the Fairmont Hotel in downtown Toronto. Alex was standing at a podium in front of a throng of reporters looking like a true professional.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, can I have your attention, please? I have a couple of announcements for you regarding the recent appearance of Mr. Tim Dekker.”
Pandemonium broke out as reporters started shouting questions and yelling, trying to be heard, one over the other, but Alex was having none of that, simply waiting until they quieted down before continuing.
“I can confirm that Mr. Dekker is a guest at the Fairmont Hotel and he will be giving a press conference tomorrow morning at ten am in the grand ballroom. If your media outlet would like to have representation in the room, you may apply to King Communications, attention Ms. Jennifere Winemiller, for further details. A live feed of the press conference will be made available to those who are unable to be accommodated inside the ballroom.
“Also, Mr. Dekker will be accepting donations to help cover his expenses while visiting here in Canada, including the expenses of setting up this press conference and hiring a spokesperson. Please send your donations to the Fairmont Hotel in care of Mr. Dekker.”
“I will now be happy to answer a few questions, but only those that are related to the logistics I have outlined above.”
And of course, the reporters tried to weasel as many details out of her as they could over the next few minutes, and I was impressed by how well she handled herself. She stuck to the logistics of the press conference and got several plugs in about sending donations to the hotel.
When she returned to the room, I could see that she was flush with the excitement of a job well done, but I could also see that she was excited about something else.
“So go ahead and just tell me what it is that has you so excited,” I said as she walked into the study.
“Well, let’s just say that your hotel bill wasn’t going to be a problem, but after paying my whole year’s salary, Jennifere’s consultant fees, and a couple of security guys, you’ll still have plenty of money to pay the hotel bill and leave some for a charity of your choice. And, the money is still pouring in.”
I stood there, dumbfounded. I mean, who would donate money to me? I was just an average guy from Memphis, nothing special about me, really. I wasn’t particularly perfect, I had smoked pot, I broke the speed limit, and I had even cheated a time or two in school. Sure, I wasn’t a felon and hadn’t broken any major laws but there must be millions of people like me out there.
And then, perhaps for the first time since I had landed and all these strange things had started happening to me, I actually started to believe that I might have done what they said that I did. For a moment, I could see myself leaving the office, getting in my car, and driving over the bridge to West Memphis to go into the spaceship. I could see the thought process now, I had no girlfriend, I had no family left as I was an only child and both my parents had died when I was in my early twenties.
Suddenly, my head hurt terribly and the room felt very hot. I felt my knees buckling and felt myself beginning to fall. I saw Alex running for me, screaming for help, and I tried to reach for something to hold on to, but I couldn’t stop myself from falling, and hitting the floor as the pain in my head continued.
Images, images that I couldn’t place, and images that were similar to the ones I had seen on the internet all seemed to be jumbled together and somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I realized I was remembering some of what had happened to me on that fateful day, images of getting out of my car and walking up to the ship, feeling like I needed to do something, anything, to save the world.
And then there was blackness, blessed blackness, and peaceful quiet, and blackness.
And then there was pain and soreness, and a crowd of people standing around my bed, starting with the doctor in the white coat standing over me, shining a flashlight in my eyes.
“Oh, thank God, you’re awake!” I heard Alex exclaim and squeeze my hand from the side of my bed.
“How are you feeling?” Asked the doctor.
“My head hurts,” I replied, “and my shoulder is a bit sore, but otherwise I feel fine.”
“Where does your head hurt?” she continued, putting away her light and taking out her stethoscope.
“Where doesn’t it hurt,” I groaned as she made me sit up so she could listen to my lungs. “There isn’t a specific place that it hurts, just a general all-over headache.”
She then asked me to wiggle all my toes and fingers and hit me with a little rubber hammer that I am convinced doctors use to torture people.
“Well, I can’t see anything wrong with you now, but I know you have been under a lot of stress and I can’t rule out an arrhythmia. I’ve drawn some blood work and will get back to you if I see any evidence of a heart attack. Meanwhile, if you have any chest pain, lightheadedness, dizziness, or other odd symptoms, Alex has my cell number, and I expect her to call me immediately!”
I nodded, but apparently wasn’t convincing to her.
“Look, I was given specific instructions by the prime minister to ensure that you were well cared for while you were a guest in our country. If something were to happen to you while you were in Canada, how would that look to the rest of the world? So if you so much as have an itchy nose, I expect to hear about it, are we clear?” she demanded in the best military voice I’ve ever heard come out of a woman’s mouth.
She calmed before she continued.
“It is not uncommon for people who have lost some of their memory to have overwhelming emotional episodes when bits of memory return. And there are physical reactions that accompany those emotional reactions. These are all perfectly natural, Mr. Dekker, but ignoring them or pretending that they didn’t occur is dangerous.”
“So I’m happy that nothing seems to be wrong, but I want you to call if anything happens again, even if you think it is another episode just like this. I need to be sure you are fine for my sake as much as yours.”
“And besides,” she winked at me, “I can’t wait to tell my girlfriends that I was in bed with Tim Dekker.”
And while that comment should have made me uncomfortable, it was the green rage of jealousy I could see in Alex’s eyes that worried me the most.
Once everyone had cleared out and left Alex and me alone in the room, I leaned back and closed my eyes.
“What happened, Sir?” she asked. “I know something happened, but you didn’t want everyone to know.”
I opened my eyes and looked into hers and I knew in that moment that I could trust her, that despite all the bad luck that she had suffered, she hadn’t been jaded by it. She was still a pure soul despite it all.
“I remembered glimpses of walking up to the ship and what I was thinking at the time,” I replied quietly, laying back on the bed and closing my eyes.
Alex had the good graces to simply squeeze my hand and sit there quietly while I tried to sort out all the images that had flickered through my mind. But no matter how hard I tried to remember, nothing past the moment I walked up to the alien ship would come back to me. I could remember all the fear and all the uncertainty that I was feeling, but also the sense that I needed to do something, that I couldn’t just sit there and watch the world destroyed.