by

Stranded in a Foreign Land

Copyright © 2013 Vincent Berg, all rights reserved.

Bookapy Edition

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

Product names, brands, and other trademarks referred to within this book are the property of their respective trademark holders. Unless otherwise specified, no association between the author and any trademark holder is expressed or implied. Nor does it express any endorsement by them, or of them. Use of a term in this book should not be regarded as affecting the validity of any trademark, registered trademark, or service mark.

As always, I’d like to thank all of those who’ve put up with me during the highs and lows of this story’s creation. It’s hard supporting temperamental authors, and the rewards aren’t always as clear cut as more time and attention.

I’ve got a long line of people who’ve helped with the story, but I’d like to thank:

•  Edited by: Stephen Mercer, David Lloyd, Ed Edwards, Mike Omelanuk.

•  Cover design by Mia Darien of LKJCovers.

•  Fonts: “Moonhouse à” by  NimaVisual (cover and titles), “The Last Font I’m Wasting on You” by GyakuSetsu (cover) and Debock Regular by Tama Putra (Signature).

•  Chapter header image: “Vintage dividers and borders” by Vector Tradition.

•  Section break image: “Set of decorative border” by lumyaisweet.

The Holes Binding Us Together

Threatened, Peg ventures into her worst fear, the holes she’s avoided her entire life, and discovers magical gates to other places. Are they a blessing, a curse, or evidence of mental illness?

Not-Quite Human

Discovering more in common with aliens than the rest of humanity, a group of misfits set out to learn who they are and search for their ancestral home, or somewhere to call their own.

1)  The Cuckoo’s Progeny

2)  Lost With Nothing to Lose

3)  Building a Nest of Our Own

A House in Disarray

Investigating her boss, NYPD Police Commissioner Eddleson, Detective Em Rules’ life is thrown into disarray by the arrival of her sister-in-law and niece, Becky.

Demonic Issues

Seeing the demons within, the world of those afflicted with mental illnesses radically changes, dragging Phil Walker, the medical establishment and everyone else along as he battles demons, dragons and fairies.

1)  The Demons Within

2)  Speaking With Your Demons

Zombie Leza

A decade after the zombie apocalypse, Leza lives, communicates with and controls thousands of undead. Whether she’s mankind’s last best hope or the source of their demise is anyone’s guess.

The Nature of the Game

The athletes at Windsor High are aiming for professional sports careers. They don’t make waves. When Taylor meets the flamboyant Jacob there’s a distinct cultural clash, as casual meetings under the bleachersr risks millions.

Singularity: The Synthesis of the Ethereal and the Corporeal

An experimental interstellar voyage goes horribly wrong and the deceased test pilot ends up back home, unhurt. Battling through internal, personal and Congressional investigations, Eric Morgan struggles to perceive exactly what he’s become.

Stranded in a Foreign Land

Discovering an injured, shipwrecked alien, Josh shelters it and seeks to rescue its companions, despite being pursued by the American and other militaries.

Stumbling Over

A group of scientists trying to peer into history trigger a tremor in time, radically altering history. Adrian Moore and his companions try to find one another and identify what happened, while preserving the knowledge to restore reality.

1)  History Ain’t What it Was

2)  Reclaiming a Limited Life

3)  Finding Time for Lost Souls

 

Books can be found on my website at:

www.vincentbergauthor.com

“This is your Captain; I’m ordering an immediate evacuation. Head immediately to your escape pods. You have less than five minutes before we evacuate all the air and water from the ship. Everything else onboard will be jettisoned.

“The wounded we picked up in response to our opponents’ distress call were infected with a highly contagious agent. This was clearly a planned sabotage in a desperate attempt to harm us by taking advantage of our humanitarian efforts. We’ve fled that system to prevent our ship from being captured and anyone attempting to rescue us from being infected. It appears the infection spread via the ship’s air supply—generated from our internal water—which we also fear is infected. If we ever hope to return, we must evacuate the ship.

“We jumped to an unknown system far from our normal transit routes and we’ve sent no alerts, so rescue is unlikely. We’ve broadcast a local distress call, hoping any inhabitants of this system will be genetically dissimilar enough not to be affected. Your escape pods are programmed to take you to the only hospitable planet, which does appear to contain an intelligent native population.

“We’ll be on our own from now, on a strange world with few resources. Escaping this poisoned environment may help, but the odds are against us. I hope to see anyone who survives. May God be with each and every one of you! That is all.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” the nervous aide said, shuffling from one foot to the other beside the bed of the most powerful man in the world.

“Err … what is it?” the president asked, opening his eyes, groping around for his glasses. “I certainly hope it’s important waking me and the First Lady up at this hour. What time is it anyway?”

“Uh, it’s three seventeen in the morning, Sir,” the aide said, checking his watch once more.

“OK, OK, I’m up. What is it?” The president wrestled with the sheets tangled around him and his wife.

“I think it might be better if you heard this alone and in a secure location, Sir.”

“It’s OK. My wife can hear whatever it is.”

The aide frowned; he knew this information was critical, but he didn’t want to argue with the man responsible for determining what to do with it.

“I don’t know if there’s a need for any immediate action, but we thought you should know. There’s…,” the aide fidgeted nervously. “We’ve finally received a message from SETI, the Search for Extraterrestr—”

“Extraterrestrial Life, I know.” President Alan Atkinson rubbed sleep from his eyes and looked up at the young man. “What could they possibly report? They’ve never picked up a thing in their entire history.”

“We don’t know, Sir. We can’t decode it. It’s a short message, broadcast every four hundred and thirty-six seconds.”

“You’re telling me they actually received a response from some alien intelligence somewhere?” Atkinson asked, incredulous

“Yes, Sir.” The young aide allowed the president to adjust to this news at his own pace.

“Four hundred and thirty-six seconds, huh?” Atkinson asked, scratching his ear. “That’s certainly significant. But I can’t imagine a signal from some far-flung galaxy needing my immediate attention. I’ll sleep on it and deal with it in the morning. Do we know its origin?”

“We don’t believe it’s from a distant system. It’s too regular and the signal hasn’t degraded over time, but we haven’t been able to track it.”

“I thought that was the whole purpose of SETI, to track broadcast signals?”

“That’s correct, but it’s a strange signal. It’s a very short message, possibly a regularly repeated SOS, but we can’t pinpoint it. It covers a broad spectrum and seems to be echoing.”

“Echoing, huh? I guess the science guys will explain that to me. Here I thought nothing echoed in space. So the experts suspect it may be an SOS?”

“That’s their best guess at the moment.” The aide’s collar felt clammy from the sweat trickling down his neck. This was way above his pay grade, and if he said the wrong thing there was no telling what the fallout might be.

“Yeah, either that or a demand for our surrender,” the president said. “That wouldn’t take many words either.”

“That’s exactly why we wanted you to know, Mr. President.”

“Do you have any idea how far away the signal’s source is?”

“Since it’s so hard to track, it’s difficult to triangulate, but it appears to be very close—possibly within the solar system, Sir.”

The president’s eyes popped open. “Here?” he asked, as if there were more than one solar system under consideration. Even his wife sat up and looked at the aide.

“It’s a very strong signal, Sir; we just haven’t been able to identify it.”

“So we don’t know if it’s on the outskirts of the system, or parked on the other side of the moon?”

“Yes, Sir. Both of those are a very real possibility.” The aide swallowed hard.

“OK, I’m getting up.” The president threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “I want you to contact other major observatories to see if there’s any more intel on this.”

“SETI has already conferred with them. They wanted to know more before they were willing to report the issue. With every step up the chain of command they’ve been sent back to reconfirm. No one wanted to disturb anyone for either an insignificant anomaly or a malfunctioning sensor.” The aide paused for a second. “The signal began fifty-seven hours ago, Sir. That’s—”

“I know how long fifty-seven hours are!” President Atkinson barked. “Two full DAYS?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“OK, check directly with the various observatories and see if they’ve noted anything else or have any other input into this.”

The president got up and the aide hurried to gather his clothing, glad to finally have something practical to do.

“Yes, Sir. What about foreign observatories or nationalities?”

“Shit! They’re likely to have received the same signals as us. Talk to the British, French, German and Swiss observatories. Set me up a connection to the leaders of those countries as well. It’s likely they won’t release anything unless it goes through their leaders first. Don’t contact anyone else. And NO press! Understand?”

“Absolutely, Sir, except … it’s not exactly restricted information. All it would take is someone tuning in to the correct frequency. And, Sir, it’s broadcasting across many different frequencies. So far it’s coming across as interference on radio, television and short wave, but if someone suspects it’s more than just ordinary static, they might figure it out.”

“Shit! OK, put out a short press release in the morning. Say it appears there’s some sort of space anomaly—, no, that’s no good. Don’t admit ANYTHING. Just make sure SETI doesn’t release any information. Also, rein in anyone connected to this.”

The aide shuffled uneasily. “That’ll be hard to do, Sir. SETI has been crowdsourcing their data, asking the general public to review it for any anomalies.”

“Damn, shut down SETI’s communications. Claim their computers have crashed. Blame the Chinese or the Iranians. If the information isn’t available, no one can pick anything out of it.”

“Except there are astronomy labs in colleges and universities around the world; anyone there could detect this signal. Hell, if it interferes with public or private broadcasts, it won’t take long for them to discover what’s going on.”

“We can’t afford for this information to get out,” Alan stressed, speaking slowly and emphasizing each word, glaring at the aide. “It could cause panic and disrupt the entire economy. If this becomes a crisis, the last thing we need is a disorganized response. We can’t afford to let a bunch of students gossip about matters of National Security.” The president paced back and forth in his pajamas, considering it. “Issue strict instructions that no one is to publicize or even talk about it to anyone but us. Threaten them with the Patriot Act. Hell, threaten to send them to Gitmo if necessary. No one is to talk about this. Threaten to cut off all government funding, not only to their programs but to their departments, their universities and their private student loans. Make it painful enough that no one would dare whisper this information to anyone. I want all electronic communications about the topic shut down, now!”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll take care of it immediately, Sir.” The young man laid the president’s suit on the bed and quickly backed out of the room, closing the door before turning to the people outside anxiously awaiting word of President Atkinson’s response.

“Get me someone at the Pentagon, the FBI and the CIA,” he ordered. Everyone scurried away to do his bidding, but he had little chance to gloat. He knew if he screwed this up, he’d likely end up in a Gitmo prison cell along with whatever science nerds wound up there.

Another aide stepped into the room. “Mr. President, we’ve got an update on the SETI information.” He stepped out of the doorway, clutching the latest reports in his hand and waited for President Atkinson to acknowledge him.

“Good. It’s been too long since the last update.” The president turned so he was facing the aide, lowering his glasses and focusing his attention squarely on him.

“We’ve been able to locate the signal, Sir.” The young man in the perfectly tailored suit held the slim report aloft while glancing at both the president and the impressive yet familiar décor of the Oval Office. This was his first time addressing the president in this room, and while he appreciated it, it also terrified him. The formality of the room echoed the importance of his message. What he was revealing could very well change history. “The reason we couldn’t identify the source was because it’s being sent across a variety of alternating frequencies, originating from several different locations.”

“Several?” President Atkinson asked, cocking his head to the side. “What does that mean?”

The aide, Robert Finch, opened the report and raised his voice to be heard at the president’s desk. “Well…, it either means there are several sources or ‘ships’ broadcasting, or … we think it’s more likely it’s an attempt to hide their actual location.” Not having been invited in, Robert remained by the door but closed it to ensure their privacy. “But the signals originate within the Oort cloud, that’s much further than Pluto.”

“So there isn’t much chance of us reaching this ‘ship’ then?” Atkinson asked, resting his elbow on his massive oak desk.

“Sir, even if we knew where it was, it would take our fastest ship several decades to reach it.” Robert shifted from one foot to the other to ease his tension. “These are tremendous distances we’re discussing.”

“Do we know how long it would take them to reach here?” President Atkinson asked, changing the focus.

Robert cocked his head, not sure how to address the question. “No, Sir, the signals don’t seem to be moving.”

“If it’s an SOS, why don’t they broadcast from a clearly designated position where we could respond?” the president asked rhetorically, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Probably because they don’t know our intentions. I’d assume they’re broadcasting some sort of standard distress call, but won’t issue a specific location until we return an acceptable standardized response.”

“A reasonable supposition, however it’s important to remember it’s only a guess. We have no idea what these—I hate to say ‘people’—are thinking.”

“Understood, Sir. We’re continually monitoring for any signs of change and we have experts reviewing the information.”

“Good,” Atkinson said, putting his fingers together and glancing over them at Robert. “Now, who else knows of this?”

“Uh … you’re not going to like this, but it’s pretty much an open secret. Basically any scientifically capable government knows, and most of the Astronomy Department heads and researchers already know. However we’ve had the Pentagon, the FBI and members of the staff calling the various agencies, applying pressure to keep this under wraps. They’ve all agreed there’s to be NO press coverage of any kind concerning this news. We feel secure we can keep a lid on it for now, but we can’t limit those who already know. With so many people aware, it’s only a matter of time until someone leaks the news.”

“Damn it, I hate losing control,” the president swore, clenching his fists and staring at the young aide.

“Sir, I don’t think this was ever under our control. It’s an open broadcast to whoever is capable of listening.”

“All right. As always, keep me informed,” the president told him, effectively dismissing him with a wave of his hand, his mind already on other things.

“Yes, Sir,” the aide responded as he hurried away. While it was impressive being involved in something this major, it was nerve-racking having no control over what was playing out, and especially having no clear answers to report.

“Mr. President?” President Atkinson looked up from his economic report as yet another aide stepped forward to deliver the latest news. “There’s been a change in the mysterious broadcasts, Sir.”

Though he still didn’t have enough information to convene a national security meeting, Alan Atkinson had canceled most of his scheduled events to be better able to respond to these multiple interruptions.

“I’m listening,” he said, giving the senior aide his full attention.

“They’ve halted. Well, not completely. It’s stopped signaling constantly over a variety of channels. Now it only broadcasts on a single channel every 5.83 hours.”

“Hmmm, I wonder what that portends?” Atkinson asked, glancing at the ceiling as he pondered the question.

“We don’t know, Sir, but we believe whoever sent the signal assumed no one would acknowledge their message and set the signal to repeat for an extended period instead, possibly to save on battery life.”

“Hmmm,” Alan responded, still considering its potential implications. However the aide didn’t wait for him to figure it out on his own.

“That could be good news. It supports the SOS theory. If their ship was damaged, they might be looking to save power over a long period of time.”

“I sure hope that’s it. Any change in the basic message?”

“No, Sir, it’s the same.”

The president ran his hand through his graying temples. “And we’ve had no breakthrough in decoding it yet?”

“No, we haven’t. We assume it is being broadcast in a foreign language using an unknown encoding, so we have no idea which is message and which is formatting.”

Alan sighed. There were just too many unknowns. He knew this was the single most important incident of his entire presidency, but he didn’t have enough information to come to any conclusion about what risks they might be exposed to.

“Have we tried broadcasting anything back?”

“Yes, Sir, several locations have been broadcasting a variety of messages, including repeating the same broadcast and sending simple binary arithmetic signals. The hope is they would see we’re trying to communicate and respond with something we could use to establish communications, but so far there’s been no response of any kind. It may even be a recorded message of some kind. There may be no life forms connected with it at all.”

“That’s certainly a consoling thought, but we can’t assume it’s the case. Even if it is, we’d have to assume it’s broadcasting messages home, alerting whoever sent it. We still don’t know whether this is a request for aid or a threat. Since we have no way of responding, it would be nice to know there’s no danger of invasion, but we need to consider our options. There has to be some way to evaluate what’s happening. Is there any way to determine what’s at the source of these broadcasts?”

“I’m afraid not, Sir. The object is too far away, and it’s in a region of the sky which doesn’t reflect any light. What’s more, being in the Oort cloud, there’s a large number of objects there, and without better optics we can’t differentiate between the objects we can observe.”

“Damn. OK, keep me apprised. We already have experts working on the issue, but if anyone has any new ideas, bring it to my attention immediately, understand?”

“Yes, Sir, we’re focused on this and everyone is scrambling to come up with a solution,” the aide answered before President Atkinson turned his attention back to his daily briefings. Realizing he’d been excused, the aide left with no specific task but to report to those in the outer office how the president was handling the situation.

“Alan, we need to discuss something we really shouldn’t do here,” the Chief of Staff, Samuel White, whispered to President Atkinson during a highly publicized dinner with the Chinese Ambassador to the US. They were attempting to impress the Chinese to gain some latitude regarding the Chinese government’s responses to political discourse in their own country. As such, the president wasn’t happy being interrupted.

“Can it wait?” he asked, addressing the handsome man leaning over his shoulder, not attempting to lower his voice. “As you can see, we’re only part way through our meal, and I hate to inconvenience the ambassador and his lovely wife,” Atkinson said, pouring it on thick.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but it’s a time critical event,” Samuel stressed.

There was something in the way he said it which got Alan’s attention. Looking up at him, he tried again.

“Is this concerning Anton?” he asked, using the name of the latest boy band singing celebrity as a code word they’d devised to discuss the presence of a minor celestial body. He was a relative newcomer with a lot of clout and prestige despite his youth who was popular with young girls eager to listen to his latest message.

“It is, Sir, and you need to make a decision about him right away,” Samuel told him, smiling at the women at the table. “Otherwise you might miss the tickets for his opening night concert.” The women giggled at the idea of President Alan Atkinson attending an Anthony Anton concert, but Alan didn’t miss the reference.

“I’m sorry, but it seems I’m being called away on some pressing business,” Alan joked, standing up and placing his napkin beside his plate to show he was done. “Alas, the job of president is never finished. Sometimes one has to put one’s preferences aside to take care of important matters. But there’s a certain thirteen-year-old who’s waiting for my immediate response.”

The women giggled again at the striking contradiction in his words, but the ambassador wasn’t so easily fooled. He’d been briefed on the ‘astrological anomaly’ and had been asked to observe how the president and his staff responded. It wasn’t hard to tell this was hardly a trivial matter, and if the president was rushing out, he assumed it was because something important had happened. Not being privy to the latest intel, he only knew he had to relay the fact President Atkinson seemed ready to take some decisive action. His superiors would be interested in knowing what the Americans were up to.

Once the president left, the ambassador signaled his secretary, writing out a short message in the Chinese Wu dialect he knew no one at the dinner would be likely to decipher. He whispered a key word to her, indicating it was to be sent immediately to China using the strictest security protocols. She hurried off as the ambassador got back to laughing with the president’s wife, who like the ambassador, seemed more concerned with her missing husband than with the current table talk.

Once they’d reached a secure location a safe distance from any potential eavesdroppers, President Atkinson confronted his Chief of Staff. “OK, what’s so important you’d interrupt a critical State Department dinner?”

“Anton’s tickets are starting to drop,” Samuel said, still keeping to the code they’d worked out ahead of time.

“No one’s listening,” Alan responded in exasperation. “Speak English. This is too important to obfuscate.”

Samuel took a deep breath, readjusting the explanation he’d planned to deliver. “We’ve observed several meteors streaking across the sky. While meteoric activity in the middle of the day is odd enough, these are even more so. There were a variety of them which appeared simultaneously, and each struck the Earth’s atmosphere at an odd angle, as if skimming the surface.”

“You think it’s the alien invasion force?” Alan asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

“It’s too small to be much of an invading force, but there’s no other reasonable explanation for it occurring at this particular time. Our guess is it’s an expedition unit, gathering information for the main force.”

“Or the aliens really were hurt in some sort of accident?”

“Then they could be seeking refuge,” Samuel acknowledged. “Either way, it’s an alien force trying to access the Earth through less than open methods. What’s more, if they were seeking aid, why not announce they were landing and pick a safe place we could watch and observe each other from. No, this seems too calculated. It’s only a few craft, they’re cleverly disguised and it just seems … disingenuous,” he concluded with a shrug, indicating he was expressing a hunch with no supporting evidence.

“How many meteors are we discussing?”

“Since they appeared so quickly and no one was actively recording it, we really don’t know. But there were at least twenty.”

“Where were they detected and where were they headed?” Alan pressed, his brow furrowing as he tried to determine just how bad the situation was.

“That’s the thing. When they first appeared over the western Pacific, visible from the coastal observatories, they burned brightly for several minutes and then completely disappeared from sight.”

“Come again? What about our satellites, radar and missile detection systems?”

“We have the best in the world, but it didn’t help. We observed the initial approach mostly because they used the friction of reentry to burn off their momentum; as soon as they’d slowed sufficiently for the friction to dissipate to less than incendiary, they vanished. None of our technology could trace them.”

“Damn! So we’ve got no clue where they were headed?”

“None whatsoever,” Samuel responded as he waited patiently for the president’s next question.

“Where were they headed before they disappeared?”

“We couldn’t tell. As I said, it appeared to be a braking action, burning off their momentum. They were only skimming the upper atmosphere, just dipping low enough to generate sufficient friction to slow them down. But once they had, there was no way to track them.”

“Shit, we’ve got to locate them! We’ve got eyes all over the globe, both commercial and military. We need to know where to look. Where’s their most likely destination?”

“It appears they’re trying to hide, using basic physics to hide in plain sight,” the Chief of Staff explained. “While our satellites can observe much of the surface of the Earth, there’s currently a major low pressure system moving eastward across the North American continent. I’d guess they’d head there, using the cloud cover to hide their motion and land undetected.”

“And just where is this low pressure system?” President Atkinson asked, unable to believe Samuel would force him to pry each and every minor detail out of him.

“Ah, that’s the thing, it’s a major system. The cloud bank covers from Canada all the way to Mexico, spanning thousands of miles. If they wanted to use it as cover they could be anywhere in it. Or, if their technology is advanced enough, we may not be able to photograph them anyway, in which case they could land anywhere. But if that were the case, I’d expect they’d head to where it’s currently night, in order to avoid being casually observed by people wandering the streets during the day. That would put them somewhere on the Asian continent.”

“Damn, we can’t let them slip away. For all we know, this could be the first wave of an invasion. If not, they hold the keys to a technology centuries ahead of ours, and we can’t afford to let it slip out of our hands.” President Alan tapped his finger against his temple, considering the situation before continuing.

“As soon as the clouds start to break up, I want all our satellites photographing the whole region. On the off chance they went to China or Russia, set one or two up to locate anything there that looks odd. And increase our electronic eavesdropping. Any suspicious comments from any foreign government or entity gets reported to us. We’ve got to get a handle on this. This could be the defining moment of my Presidency, making everything else I’ve accomplished pale into insignificance.”

“I’ll get on it then. Your staff and the various military and security people are gathered in the Situation Room. They’ve got satellite images of our target areas so you can see what we’re facing.”

“Good work. Let’s get things moving. I don’t want these … things getting away from us.”

“So what are your plans for the afternoon?” Melissa Evens asked as her kids ate lunch at their well-worn kitchen table. It had been another long morning of chores on the family ranch. Their day started just after dawn performing the daily chores, but the afternoons were for the extra jobs required to keep the ranch in good working order. “With these clouds moving in, we’re going to get some heavy rains. You’d better get started working the fence line. You won’t be able to dig post holes once the ground gets wet.”

Melissa didn’t look like the typical rancher. Despite her calloused hands, the 40-year-old mother was trim, blonde and attractive. She’d helped her husband maintain the ranch, but balanced her time between ranch and maintaining her looks for her husband, which he appreciated. Once he died of a sudden onset heart attack, she’d continued the daily beauty treatments and yoga exercises for her own sake. She also didn’t date. With just her and her kids running the ranch, she had no intention of letting some two-bit hustler take it over because he managed to woo her.

“Geez, Mom,” Josh said, waving his forkful of food as he spoke, “I can’t get much accomplished before we’ll have to stop again. I was hoping to handle that when we can do the whole thing at one time.”

Josh, short for Joshua, was a sophomore at Northern Arizona University and wasn’t used to working quite so hard when not on the ranch. Although the school liked to stick the newer kids with the early classes, he typically woke at 7:30 AM for an 8:00 class, instead of starting work at 5:00 AM here at home.

Melissa sighed, putting her hands down on the table. “Joshua, it has to be done, and it’s better to do it when you can rather than waiting for the perfect opportunity. Which, may I remind you, never comes,” Melissa lectured her son for what felt like the thousandth time. He’d never learned to apply himself and was always looking for some excuse to shirk his duty. His sisters, on the other hand, hardly ever complained about the work, despite volunteering for much more onerous tasks than she ever required of Josh. “For having been raised on a ranch, you’ve never quite grasped the concept that work doesn’t wait for you. There are tasks to finish and you do them when they need doing, not when you feel like it,” she finished with a barely concealed scowl.

“The problem is Josh doesn’t think the farm is good enough for him,” Josh’s 17-year-old younger sister, Janet, responded with a sneer. Both she and her older sister, Frances, had heard this routine before. Josh was habitually unmotivated. He had to be forced to do the tasks he knew had to be completed every day, as if they simply weren’t necessary. It frustrated her because she worked hard and applied herself. Janet knew what she wanted and was willing to do what was necessary to get there. “Not only does he dislike working for and contributing to the family, but he’s always had a superiority complex. He thinks he’s better than everyone else,” she accused.

Despite having the looks to skate by on her beauty, Janet dedicated herself to getting ahead in school. She apprenticed with a local vet and already had plans to study veterinary medicine in college. Like her mother, she was relatively short, thin and gorgeous, but she hid her beauty behind a no-nonsense pair of glasses and plain clothes. She dressed up only on special occasions, not wanting to be distracted by her high school classmates constantly hitting on her. Although she flirted with a few guys at school and had dated sporadically, she planned to do most of her dating during college when there was more likelihood of finding someone willing to put up with a veterinarian rancher.

The accusation that Josh had an insufferable attitude cut him deep to the bone. While he prided himself on his intellect and his unusual friends, he’d always had troubles getting along with most people for just that reason. In this region everyone affects an ‘aw, shucks’ attitude, even though many of the people he knew were quite bright. But instead of taking pride in their intelligence, they played it down with false modesty as if ashamed of their ideas. It rankled Josh and fed into his discomfort with his life here.

“It’s not that it isn’t good enough for me,” Josh responded, dropping his fork in frustration at being picked on by his mother and sisters once again. “It’s just that ranching isn’t what I see for myself.” He swept his long sun-bleached hair out of his eyes and paused to collect himself before continuing. “I can’t picture dedicating my life to working the same dusty plot of land for the rest of my days. I’d like to accomplish something, and I just don’t see myself achieving much here. I mean, there isn’t even anyone else here. They’ve all had enough sense to move away a long time ago.”

“Ha! It’s not like you’ll accomplish anything anywhere else,” Frances responded. As the eldest, she’d always taken on all the ranch’s heavy jobs, trying to impress her hard-working parents while taking care of her younger siblings. Naturally, she felt the same about her brother’s lackadaisical attitude as her mother. “You spend all your time getting high at school and running around with your friends. You’re barely passing. If you really wanted to accomplish something, you’d apply yourself. You haven’t even picked a major yet!”

“It isn’t unusual for students to be undecided about what they want to study,” Josh responded defensively. They’d fought over this same issue many times. Both his sisters already had their lives planned out. Janet was studying to be a vet while still in high school so she could help out on the ranch while also bringing in extra income from nearby farms. Frances, always a bit of a tom-boy, wanted to branch out, so she dove headfirst into the male-oriented world of electrical engineering. She hoped to apply the knowledge by installing a solar farm and wind generators to power the ranch, making it more self-sufficient. Everything they planned centered around helping the family’s ranch. They couldn’t comprehend that it just held no interest for Josh.

“Yes, but most students who waffle about what to ‘do with their lives’ end up doing nothing,” his mother responded. “The vast majority of kids today end up achieving little, which is where I’m afraid you’re heading. It’s one thing to complain, but you’re not even making any plans.”

Josh sighed theatrically, tired of defending himself. “I’m sorry, but I just haven’t found what motivates me yet. I’ll find it eventually, but I’ll tell you what; it isn’t working on a dead-end ranch out in the middle of nowhere. I want to achieve something that’ll make a difference, something more important than simply eking out a living just getting by.”

“Listen, young man,” his mother answered sharply, jabbing his brawny chest with her finger, “your father and I took over this ranch from your grandparents, and it’s been good to us. It feeds people, it’s provided for you and your sisters, and it is good honest hard work, something you need to learn.”

“Mom, I know all about hard work,” Josh replied, taking on a quieter, less argumentative tone. “You’ve drilled it into me my entire life. This ranch was the dream of you and Dad. You chose this life, and I’m glad it means so much to you. But I never chose it for myself. I’m still looking for what I want, and as much as it upsets you, I don’t think spending the rest of my life stuck here in the middle of nowhere is going to get me anywhere.”

“Your sisters don’t have a problem with it,” Melissa reminded her son. “And they haven’t let it limit them either. They’ve branched out, discovering things that challenge them which also benefit the family. You talk a mean tale about ‘finding yourself’, but until you do, you need to do your part. This family depends on you. Since your father died we’ve had to struggle to keep this place going, and frankly, your continual whining doesn’t keep the place operating on a daily basis.”

“Look, I’m not afraid of hard work,” Josh repeated, his voice once more rising in pitch. He was tired of being blamed for not being happy with his life, and if his family wanted to make a fight of it, then he’d take them on. Still, he struggled to keep his voice calm and his tone reasonable. “I’ve put in plenty of work around here. But if this isn’t how I see my life unfolding, you can’t expect me to be satisfied with it. This is your dream—a dream which killed Dad, I might add. When I find what I want to do I’ll work hard to achieve it, but so far I just haven’t discovered it.

“Yeah, right, as if you’ve ever done anything but complain,” Janet commented as she stood up, washing her plate and silverware. She normally tried to stay out of these family arguments about Josh, but she was tired of listening to him bitch about what the rest of the family worked so hard for.

“All right, this discussion is getting us nowhere,” Melissa declared, standing up and putting an end to the family squabbling. They’d been over this ground before and she knew they weren’t going to settle it now. “How about you get out there and start work on the fence while you still can, and maybe you can contemplate what you really want to do with your life while you’re actually accomplishing something?”

Josh swallowed his remaining complaints with the last of his juice. He knew the women in his family. They were just as bull-headed as the cattle they raised. They were so focused on the family business they couldn’t see or understand anything else.

Josh put his stuff away and headed for the door, his sisters falling in behind him. Working the fence line is something which requires several hands, and while they relied on Josh to do the heavy work of digging the post holes and manhandling the posts into position, they all worked equally as hard at it.

Melissa regarded her kids as they headed out the door. For all his complaining, Josh was right. When it came to it, he got his work done, but he just wasn’t satisfied with the work itself. His sisters had worked to make the family business their own by figuring out how to adapt their dreams to their situation, but she knew Josh would never be happy doing what the others found so important. She just hoped he’d find something important enough to motivate him to succeed.

Letting the screen door slam behind him, Josh took a deep breath of the dry Arizona country air, allowing his tensions to drain from him. His family made him crazy, but he’d learned long ago to let conflicts go so he could do the needed work properly.

As much as he complained, there was a lot to like about this region of the country. The family ranch stretched over two thousand acres of scrubland at the base of the mountains. Entirely too dusty and dry to raise crops, it worked for raising cattle, as long as they got the occasional rain to keep the dirt from blowing away. Growing up, most of Josh’s friends were from the nearby Navajo reservation in the mountains overlooking the ranch. Many Native Americans used the local schools and came here for the few jobs available in the region while remaining close to their homeland. Josh and his family had learned a healthy respect for the environment and life in general from them. Life, like nature itself, was something you couldn’t own. You were only given a piece of it to watch over during your lifetime, and you did your best to preserve it for those who follow you, because otherwise it would be gone in no time.

That had always formed the basis of Josh’s philosophy. Having adopted it as his own life mantra years ago, it was a view which frequently got him into trouble. Living in a solid Republican state, he liked their idea of limited government because he’d clearly seen what happens when government is left to its own devices. It always overreached, taking whatever it wanted leaving only what the wealthy and powerful could fight to protect; meanwhile the poor and voiceless were simply swept aside. However, that perspective also proved difficult, even in this conservative enclave, especially given Josh’s ‘in your face’ attitude.

Josh found the Republican style of government overreach just as onerous. Whereas the Democrats tended to create bureaucracies, at least they professed a desire to help people. The Republicans, though, interfered not just in what people could do with their own businesses, but into their lives and their bedrooms. They sought to dictate who people could love, what they could do and which morality they were obligated to follow, even when they didn’t believe in it themselves. Frankly, Josh didn’t like either perspective. They both wanted unlimited power to expand, and he felt it necessary to resist on both fronts, even if he was largely powerless to do so.

As a result he developed the reputation of a troublemaker. Though he listened to the more conservative news stations everyone in the region relied on, he frequently argued with people over what they said. He also wasn’t afraid to stage his own protests, showing his displeasure over whichever form of government intervention was currently constraining the people he knew. He realized his attitude would be difficult to maintain if he moved to a more populous metropolitan area. It was already proving so at his college, but he knew he couldn’t remain here on the ranch like his siblings planned. No, despite the freedom he enjoyed, ranching was too constraining for him. He wanted more out of life.

He appreciated his solitude, spending his time reading or fantasizing about better things, but life here was lonely. Their nearest neighbors, the McCrearys—whose daughter just happened to be his ex-girlfriend—lived several miles away. Now, in addition to the difficulty of getting together on a regular basis, he felt awkward doing so, leaving him feeling that much more isolated.

Letting those concerns go, Josh scanned the fencing dividing the property line. They had a lot of distance to cover and he wanted to determine how much time they had. If it was going to rain, he wanted to be closer to home. But if it held off, he’d prefer to deal with the fences further out.

While scanning the horizon, he heard an odd whistling sound—surprisingly loud—farther to the west, close to the base of the mountains the ranch abutted. Turning towards the disturbance, Josh wondered what would cause such a sound in such a peaceful setting when his eyes located the source amidst the flat dusty terrain: a rising dust storm.

Shading his eyes, he tried to study it, but all he could see was a mass of spinning brown dust. Then he saw something darker slowly descending into the swirling cloud. He assumed that was what kicked up the dust.

“What was that?” Melissa asked, stepping out of the house and approaching him from behind.

“We don’t know,” Janet responded, adjusting her glasses as she pointed off to the side. “It seemed to have come from over there.”

“No, it’s there, out near the cliffs,” Josh corrected her, pointing in the correct direction. His eyesight was good, but he assumed they just hadn’t noticed it yet. “Something seems to be over there, and if there’s something that large here, it just might be serious.”

“A dust devil?” Fran asked, confused about what he was describing.

“No, it’s too wide and it doesn’t extend up very far,” he explained. “Besides, I saw something generating the dust cloud. It looked more like a helicopter trying to land, but we’d have heard a helicopter approaching.”

“I can’t see anything other than the dust now,” his mother commented.

“I saw it earlier, but I couldn’t tell just what it was,” Josh told her. “It was too far off, so I might have been imagining it, but….”

“Well, if you think someone is in trouble, you’d best get out there and check,” Melissa told him. “You investigate while I stay here and get the first aid kit prepared, just in case.”

Josh was already heading towards the back to get his pickup when Janet called. “I’m coming with you, just let me get Chestnut. After all, if it’s nothing, which it probably is, I can use her to work the fence line.” Josh stopped to consider, then shook his head.

“No, we’d better use the pickup. It’ll get there faster. It’ll take too long to wrangle the horses. If necessary I’ll bring you back, but I want to make sure it’s not something major first.”

“Well hold on then,” Fran said. “As long as you’re heading out, I’m coming along. It’s probably nothing and there’s no use all of us wasting our time. If nothing else, I can start setting the fence line while you’re busy ferrying Janet back and forth.”

Janet rewarded her sister by sticking her tongue out at her, but otherwise let the comment pass. She was more curious about what was occurring as it wasn’t often surprises like this happened out here in the middle of nowhere.

The drive out took some time, during which they worried what they’d discover. Once they arrived, it was difficult to make anything out, as most of the dust had settled. Josh located a small ridge of recently displaced soil. Climbing out of the pickup, Josh and his sisters approached a small depression rimmed by the just created ridge. Cresting it, they observed a large bullet shaped black object. Its top was open, slid back along its length, revealing a dark interior. A lone cow, just as curious as they, was nosing one end of it.

“What is it?” Frances asked, peering around her brother, who took the lead.

“I don’t know,” Josh answered, looking it over. “The best I can guess is a military aircraft of some sort, possibly a drone of some kind. It’s pretty sophisticated and very professional, but it has no markings of any kind.”

“Yeah, and there aren’t any military installations anywhere near here,” Fran reminded him.

Janet, seeing something, reached out and touched Josh’s arm, alerting him. Looking again, Josh noticed someone inside the capsule. His sisters followed him a few steps behind as he approached the strange craft for a better look. Nudging the cow aside, Josh peered in. Inside sat one of the strangest creatures he’d ever seen. Its skin was mixed copper and red, covered with strange markings. It wore some sort of clothing which appeared to be damp, apparently from sweat. It was leaning back, as if exhausted and unable to move on its own. It was also wheezing for breath, making a high-pitched, almost indecipherable whine.

Janet and Fran gasped, stopping to gawk, but Josh didn’t pause. All he saw was someone in distress. Without thinking he moved to help. Josh knelt, reaching over the side attempting to lift the strange creature from the small craft, but found it incredibly heavy. Motioning Fran forward and explaining his plans, they both struggled, lifting the ship’s occupant out of the craft. Man, was it heavy! Josh had no idea how to reference it, as it didn’t look either male or female. He knew the convention was to always refer to someone of indeterminate sexuality as ‘he’, but he felt reluctant referring to something this alien as ‘him’.

Once out in the light, Josh and his sisters could observe more of the creature. It was indeed sweating heavily, rivulets tracing through the brown dust coating its skin. It had no hair of any kind, only colorful featherlike ‘fur’ decorating its skin. No ‘little green man’ as so often portrayed in the movies, it was oddly shaped, kind of from the bottom up. It was bigger lower to the ground and got thinner the taller he/she/it rose. It had four legs, situated not like normal human’s paired legs, but one on each side of its body. They were thick with joints that moved in a crablike fashion, extending away from its body. It also had four arms, though smaller than its legs, each appendage ending in four thin claw-like fingers. It looked like it could scuttle in any direction like a crab. It breathed in heavy gasps and shivered. Josh’s confusion about its gender was settled, as it bore four smallish breasts.

Setting her on the ground, Josh considered what to do next. Fran backed up, looking skittish, while Janet stepped forward to observe her closer up. She tried speaking, but they couldn’t understand as it sounded more like the barking of a seal than anything else. Seeing as they couldn’t understand her, she stopped trying to resist, letting them decide what to do on their own.

“Jeez, Josh, what the hell did we stumble onto?” Janet asked, her voice trembling.

“I have no idea,” Josh responded, sounding surprisingly calm, “but she looks incredibly sick. We’ve got to get her to the house, in bed and under covers.”

“Are you crazy?” Fran asked. “We don’t know what it is, what it might do, or whether it’s dangerous or not.”

“Well, clearly she’s intelligent. She’s dressed in some kind of uniform, in an advanced ship and was trying to communicate with us.”

“Uh, if it’s sick, should we even be touching it?” asked Janet, the aspiring vet and the only one with any medical training. Meanwhile the cow, who Josh recognized as Bessie 3, edge forward and sniffed at the alien.

“Please, Bessie, give her some space. Not everyone wants a wet nose jabbing them in the face,” Josh complained, shoving the large animal aside. However, it wasn’t quite so easy. With an animal that big, he had to edge it in one direction and wait for it to get around to moving on its own. But it did give them time to consider the situation.

“Well, since she’s not human, I’d assume whatever she’s suffering from won’t affect us,” Josh said, taking in the sickened creature before them, “but no, we really shouldn’t. We’ve all got gloves and long sleeves, so we should be OK. Just be sure to strip your clothes, clean them separately and sterilize everything with Purell and hopefully we’ll be fine.”

“Hopefully?” Fran asked skeptically.

“I’m not so sure, but if you say so,” Janet responded, sounding doubtful but not as disturbed as Fran.

“If she can infect us, it’s already too late,” Josh concluded, “but we can’t leave her. She needs help. Come on, Fran, help me lift her into the back of the truck.”

“The hell with that,” Fran responded. “She’s too heavy for us to lift her that high. We’ll need Janet to help too, and even then it’s going to be tough. She’s one heavy alien.”

“Hey, she’s not heavy, she’s my sister species,” Josh joked, unable to resist.

“That’s terrible,” Janet said, slapping him on the shoulder. “How can you joke at a time like this?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Anyway, come on,” he continued, urging his sisters forward. “The longer she’s out here, the worse she’ll be. She needs to be inside, under shelter.”

Fran was correct, for the strange creature’s diminutive size, she shouldn’t have been nearly as heavy as she was. It stood—if it was capable of standing—only about four and a half feet, and aside from the heavy legs, wasn’t very wide either. Josh idly wondered whether she wore lead underwear beneath its clothing.

The girls joined him—Fran hesitantly while Janet seemed more curious. After Janet backed the truck up, they struggled to lift her onto the back of the truck. Almost losing their hold several times, when they got her onto the truck the entire truck bed sank noticeably as the springs had difficulty keeping the frame off the ground.

Janet, her vet instincts taking over, climbed in after her and held her, trying to keep her warm. Josh climbed behind the wheel while Fran took the passenger seat. Josh pulled away, trying to drive slowly enough to avoid jostling her, while not wasting too much time getting her to safety. Bessie idly watched them depart and then wandered away, her curiosity satisfied. Fran opened the small interconnecting window, asking Janet how the sick alien was faring.

“She’s not doing well,” she replied. “She’s shivering and isn’t aware of what’s going on.” That inspired Josh to drive faster, despite how badly it tossed the two in the back around. Janet could have easily steadied herself by holding the railings, but instead braced herself with her legs so she could steady the alien.

The return trip seemed to take forever but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. Once they skidded to a halt in front of the house Josh called out for his mother, while Frances helped Janet maneuver the … thing, to the edge of the truck bed.

“What the hell?” Melissa exclaimed when she came outside and saw what they had in the back of their truck.

“We found her crash-landed in the field,” Josh explained as if this happened all the time. “She’s clearly sick, sweating like a pig and shivering. We’ve got to get her into a bed and try to lower her temperature.”

“Uh, are you sure that’s wise?” she asked. Her two daughters stopped, turning to debate the issue, but Josh was having none of it.

“Absolutely! She’s sick, homeless, far from home and has no one to stand up for her. We can’t just turn her away. If we don’t help her, she’ll die where she lies. If you don’t want to take care of her, then I will. So tell me now whether you’re going to help or not, but don’t waste time quibbling over it. If you aren’t comfortable treating her, then just get out of the way.”

Taken by surprise, Melissa stepped back at Josh’s vehemence. She’d never known him to be terribly committed about anything and she’d wondered whether he’d ever take anything seriously. She was shocked by his response.

“No, you’re right,” she agreed, nodding after a moment’s delay. “I’ll help. But I needed to know you were sure of what you’re committing yourselves to.”

Seeing the discussion was settled and not wanting to argue about abandoning someone in need with their brother, Janet and Frances returned to helping the strange … woman from the truck.

“We should keep her in the house,” Josh added as he helped. “If anyone comes looking for her, they’d need a search warrant to enter the house, whereas they could simply walk into any of the outbuildings.”

“That’s where I was planning to put her, assuming it is female,” Melissa told him. “I figured I’d put her in my room, while I take the couch in the den.”

“She’s incredibly heavy, so you’ll need to remove the bedsprings so they aren’t damaged,” Josh explained. “Now, I know it’s terrible to issue instructions then run off, leaving all the work, but I want to bury her ship. I’m sure the government is going to search for it if they have any clue she’s here. If they do a flyby, I have no idea whether it will show up inside a garage, so I’ll bury it to be sure.”

“Are you really sure…?” Melissa started to ask before stopping to consider it. As obsessed as Josh was about the government, he had a point. The government would clearly be interested if they knew of this, and would likely stop at nothing to get their hands on her.

“I’m sure. We’re all risking our lives by doing this, so no one mention this to anyone. No gossip, no innuendo, nothing gets said,” he insisted.

“Don’t worry,” Janet told him. “No one would believe me anyway, and if I send them a photo they’d assume it was photoshopped.”

“Good, I’ll be back as soon as I’m done, but I have to finish while I still have cloud cover. Being caught burying something would be just as incriminating as having a strange space vessel in the backyard.”

“Wait, we’ll need help carrying her,” Fran objected.

“We can manage,” their mother insisted. “Janet, grab the handcart, we can do it with that. I think I’ve got an old stretcher we can use to get her onto it. We should be able to manage with those.”

“All right, I’m off. Take care and be careful about exposing yourselves. We don’t know how contagious what she has is,” Josh said as he ran for the shed to grab the tractor he’d need to both transport and bury the craft. He knew if the ship was anywhere near as heavy as the creature, he’d have a lot of trouble managing it with a tractor.

“So, how’s she doing?” Josh asked, reentering the house while wiping the dirt caked on his damp skin off his brow.

“She wants to see you,” Melissa told her son.

That stopped him in his tracks. “She doesn’t speak a word we can understand and she’s a species we’ve never encountered from a planet we don’t even know exists. How the hell do you know—”

“I know,” Janet answered from their mother’s bedroom. “I’ve been around animals all my life and I’m studying to be a vet. I don’t need someone who speaks English to know what someone wants.” Janet walked into the kitchen where Josh and Melissa were.

“She’s been waiting for you, continually watching the door and fidgeting nervously. She’s won’t rest until she sees you, and she won’t improve until she does. You need to get this over with.”

Josh nodded. He had no clue what this alien wanted. After all, she didn’t know him from Adam, and he certainly didn’t represent anything to her. But still, his curiosity was piqued.

Stepping into the other room with both Janet and his mother following, he saw the … whatever, looking up at him. Fran was standing near her as she lay on the bed.

“We’ve been cooling her with damp cloths,” Fran explained. “We’re afraid to use aspirin. It’s probably safe, since she’s so heavy, but we don’t want to run the risk. We also don’t know her base temperature, so we don’t know how much of a fever she has. Mainly, we’re just trying to keep her hydrated to flush anything we can out of her system.”

Again, Josh nodded, though no one else paid any attention to Fran. All eyes were on Josh and this alien.

Josh approached and glanced down. She struggled to sit up and Fran rushed to assist. Standing this close, Josh was better able to observe her, seeing her now not as an oddity but as an individual. Her eyes were unlike any he’d ever seen, including those in his Intro to Biology classes. He recognized the red color rimming them, the hacking cough and the damp sweat, clearly marking just how ill it … she was.

Where most human women minimized their body hair, her skin was decorated with a translucent feathery display, each hair-thin feather showing an intricate colorful pattern. Josh assumed her people judged each other based on those patterns, much as humans judged women’s attractiveness based on how symmetrical their features were. The feathering got taller on the top of her elongated egg-shaped head, but it was slicked back now. He noted gaps where she’d lost many of her feathers. She wore a thin form-fitting bluish metallic costume beyond his wildest imaginings. He figured it was a uniform as it had markings of various kinds on the chest and the end of its sleeves, though they could simply be decorative.

“Why’s she still wearing her clothes?” he asked, never taking his eyes off her.

“We didn’t know how to remove them,” Janet answered from behind, “and she wouldn’t let us, even if we knew.”

The strange creature pointed to his arm and made motions indicating rolling his sleeve up. That was the first time Josh was really sure she was intelligent. The ship she’d arrived in was a strong sign, but it wasn’t direct evidence, and her guttural barking was hardly impressive. But seeing her trying to express herself in a cogent manner assured him she was indeed quite rational.

When Josh rolled his sleeve up as she’d indicated, she started fiddling with her arm. He hadn’t noticed it before, given how shocking her appearance was, but she wore something metallic on her arm. She pressed a couple of things and it sprang free. Again motioning Josh forward, she grasped his arm, pulling him closer and reached up to his face. As Josh warily watched the nimble claws dance around his face, she reached around and jabbed his ear.

“Ow!” he cried, pulling back, but the creature was still surprisingly strong for being so incapacitated. While Josh was distracted, she pulled his arm closer and placed the device against it. As soon as it touched his flesh, it jumped out of her hands, wrapping around the contours of his arm and fastened itself to it.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed again, jumping back as the thing bit into his arm. Yanking his arm free, he shook it, trying to wrest the strange device loose, but it held firm. Realizing the initial shock was over, he stopped to examine it carefully.

It was constructed with the same dull colored metallic finish as her ship, but the coloring and odd texture made it seemingly blend into his skin. It wasn’t immediately apparent he was wearing anything, despite the wide variance between their skin colors. The surface had a variety of odd prominently colored markings, none of which made any sense to him. They made him think they were some indication of rank or something otherwise significant. Curious, he turned to the creature, looking for an explanation she clearly couldn’t supply.

Still struggling to remain alert, she reached out and her claw like fingers danced over the surface of the device. She took her time, clearly showing him what she was doing as her fingers nimbly touched several of the symbols. He made sure to memorize the sequence; since he was sure she wanted him to remember. When she finished, nothing happened, but she turned and looked at him. Thinking it was a test of his memory, he repeated the same sequence. When he hit the final key, it lit up with various lights which seemed to glow from within.

Josh examined it as the others peered at it from the side, trying to observe it as well. The numerous lights seemed to have a certain pattern. There was a central green light with scattered yellow lights surrounding it. Confused, he looked at the … alien once again. She made an odd facial expression, which he assumed was some kind of a smile, and tapped each light, then pointed in turn at Janet, Frances, and finally his mother. Then she pointed at the central green light and poked Josh in the chest. He jumped a little, unintentionally, but the meaning, though cryptic, was clear. The green dot represented him, whereas the yellow lights represented the … female creature’s companions, and the spaces between them must represent their respective position to where he now stood. Looking closer, he could see gradations in the background color. He wasn’t sure what it represented, whether elevation or surface elements in the surrounding terrain, but he was sure they represented something.

She looked him in the eyes and pointed into the distance. Again, the meaning seemed clear, but he wondered whether he was simply reading into the action what he wanted to believe, but he felt clear what it meant. She wanted him to rescue her crewmates, just as he had her.

He nodded, but she cocked her head to the side, apparently unsure what that meant. He tried a couple of hand motions and tried bowing. Finally he pointed at the lights on his arm and walked off in the direction of the closest light. Turning back, he saw it satisfied her, and she seemed to collapse, exhausted by the communications.

Fran rushed to grab her before she collapsed, while Janet hurried to her side.

“I’ve got to go,” Josh told his family. “I’ll leave you to take care of her. Whatever you do, don’t let anyone in the door where they can see her.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” his mother asked, surprised that Josh, who’d been so vehement about taking care of her, was taking off again.

“She apparently wants me to rescue her companions,” he explained, turning to address Melissa. “I’m guessing they’re in the same shape she’s in. I’ve got to find and help them.”

“Is that a good idea?” his mother reiterated.

“Mom, there are … people like her lying sick out there, with no one to help them but me.”

“Maybe so, but anyone who observes you will report it, and as much as you carry on about the federal government, anyone you encounter is going to call for reinforcements. It’ll only be a matter of time before the military you’re so paranoid about is after you.”

“I’m well aware of the risk, but I can’t leave them to die alone in a strange land.”

“Then you need to be aware that if you’re discovered helping them, you’re not just sacrificing yourself, you’re sacrificing all of us, and all of these … beings as well,” Fran pointed out.

“Yeah, I’ll need to figure out how to protect everyone. But my best bet is to find them before anyone knows something is up. The longer I delay, the more trouble I’ll have.”

“All right, I can see I can’t convince you otherwise, but just know that this could very well end up with them all in custody, and all of us in serious trouble,” his mother warned.

“So you’re willing to stay and help, despite the same risks?” Josh asked, glancing from his mother to his sisters to gauge their responses.

“Yes,” Melissa sighed. “We’re as bad as you are. I can’t very well leave her alone. It’s probably a fool’s errand which will end badly, but I can’t turn my back on someone in need.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Josh said, giving her a quick kiss. “Now I’d better run if I hope to rescue them before everyone knows what’s happening.” With that he spun and ran out of the house.

“Peter?” Josh asked when his friend answered the phone. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“A favor?” Peter replied skeptically. “Let me guess, another protest? What is it this time? A sit-in at the Army recruiting station? A protest at City Hall over Internet taxes? Man, you give us Arizonans a bad name with your paranoia.”

“No, it’s not another protest. This is much more important. It’s also more involved.”

“So what is it then?” Josh’s long-term friend asked, intrigued but still cautious.

“Well…, I can’t tell you now. This needs to be face-to-face. Meet me in town. I need to find and help someone, and I think I need some people to run interference for me.”

“Interference? You’re expecting trouble ‘helping someone’? Now this sounds interesting. Who is she and how big is her boyfriend?” Peter laughed.

“It’s not…,” Josh tried to explain before giving up and trying again. “I’ll explain in detail when I see you. Let’s just say it’s important and we need to move fast. Figure this will take several days and probably keep us out all night. You’ll have to call Fred and Cynthia for me. Since you live near town, you’ll need to pick up some surgical gloves and face-masks, and tell Fred to bring his scanner. We’ll need to monitor the police and rescue bands.”

“Man, what the hell do are you planning? Aren’t you happy annoying people with your forced intellectual crap? Jeez, I hope you’re not going to try something extreme to get attention for your silly causes!”

“No, I’m not looking to cause trouble, but it’s complicated and is going to take time to explain. Anyway, I need to go. Just do this for me. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m skeptical, but you’ve got me fascinated. I’m curious to hear the details. All right, I’ll make the arrangements. When and where should we meet?”

“I’m on the way now and I’m heading south, so how about we meet at the McDonald’s at Clovis. Just don’t take too long, as I’m likely to take off if you don’t show up on time.”

“All right, but if this is another of your crazy-assed conspiracy theories…,” Peter warned, not bothering to finish his implied threat.

Josh took a second to consider what he was getting himself, his family and his friends involved in. This was a major risk for each and every one of them. Whatever the authorities might do about the aliens, they wouldn’t take kindly to the kinds of subterfuge Josh was planning. Chances are, any one of the many things he had planned would get all of them locked up at Guantanamo where no one, not even civil rights attorneys, would ever hear of them. Peter was right, Josh had pulled some pretty lame-assed stunts in the past, centered around his paranoia about the Federal government’s overreach into people’s personal lives. But if there was a time to be concerned about such things, now was the time, so maybe his paranoia would pay off for once.

Dialing the next number on his list, one he hadn’t dialed in quite a long time, he waited for an answer.

“Hello? This is the McCreary residence, Becky speaking.” Becky was always formal on the telephone, but with her father, she had good reason to be.

“Hey, Becky, this is—”

“I know who this is and you’ve got some nerve calling me,” she answered sharply. “What is this, some attempt to change my mind? Did you concoct some clever plea sitting by yourself late at—”

“Ah, Becky, actually I was calling your father. Is Col. McCreary there?”

The phone was silent for several moments as Becky tried to figure out what this meant.

“My dad?”

“Yeah, it’s important, so if I could speak to him it would—”

“You want to speak to my dad?” she asked, clearly perplexed by the idea. Josh had never been comfortable around her father, not that she could blame him, but the transition clearly confused her.

“That’s what I said. Tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes and that we need to speak privately, your father and I, that is. And tell him it’s important, something he can’t tell anyone else.”

“Look, if this is some attempt to—”

“It’s not, Becky,” Josh stressed, not wanting to waste all his time convincing her he wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on her by pissing her father off. That would be stupider than trying to convince Becky they should try getting back together. After all, she’d cheated on him, and he had no desire to hurt that badly again. “This is strictly between your father and me and has nothing to do with you,” Josh assured her, picturing her expression. She’d clearly be furrowing her brows, staring at the phone as if it had suddenly appeared in her hand and she couldn’t imagine how it had gotten there.

The phone was silent for several moments before she finally responded. “OK, I’ll tell him you’re on the way, but I won’t be here, and whatever you tell him had better not involve me!”

“Just tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he told her before hanging up, not bothering to say goodbye. He knew she’d interpret it to mean something he didn’t intend. He had no idea what he’d say when he arrived, but Becky’s intransigence was almost guaranteed to make an already awkward situation even more difficult.

Pulling up at the McCreary’s house, Josh steeled himself for what he had to do and the likely difficulties involved. Combing his hair, he tried to make himself more presentable. Josh had always been intimidated by Becky’s father, Jonathan McCreary (who always insisted on Josh calling him by his full name). As a retired military man, he was a difficult task master and he’d ridden Josh hard, measuring him against an imaginary role he couldn’t match. This was not going to be an easy discussion.

The McCrearys moved in shortly before Josh and Becky started high school. Becky’s mother, Susan, insisted she remain in the same school throughout her high school years. Her father had taken that as a subtle hint and decided to retire shortly thereafter. He’d married late, being married to his job, and his younger wife didn’t have the same dour mindset as her husband.

Josh approached the front door, swallowing the rising lump in his throat as he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants so he wouldn’t come off as nervous as he was. He was about to ring the bell when he reconsidered, knocking instead. Somehow ringing the bell seemed more impulsive, less ‘serious’, and he was concerned with sending Col. McCreary the right message.

“Well, hello, Joshua,” Susan McCreary said as she opened the door, smiling broadly. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you around here. How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine, Mrs. McCreary,” Josh replied, smiling easily at Becky’s always friendly mother. “Is your husband home?”

“Yes, Becky told us to expect you. He’s waiting for you in his den,” she explained, welcoming him into the house. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” he responded nervously. “I’m in a bit of a rush and really can’t spend a lot of time.”

“Very well…, uh, may I ask what this regards?” she asked curiously.

“I’m sorry, but this is private between Jonathan and me and I really can’t discuss it,” Josh answered, feeling even more awkward. “What’s more, it’d be better if you didn’t press him for any details.”

“I see,” she said simply, giving him an odd appraising look. “Becky wanted me to tell you that she’s unavailable and locked in her room upstairs,” she explained, smiling sympathetically. “She says that if you try to disturb her she’ll be listening to her music, unable to hear your pleas.”

Josh shrugged. “This really isn’t about her, but she doesn’t seem to be willing to accept that. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m not about to bother her anymore, but you’d think the friendship we had for so many years before we got involved would allow for a little hospitality.”

“She’s been a little funny concerning you since before you broke up,” Susan whispered, glancing upstairs as if she might catch Becky listening in. “I’ve never been able to figure it out myself.”

“Well, as I said, I really need to talk to your husband and I don’t have much time, so if you don’t mind?” he asked, politely tipping his head and extending his hand as if asking for hers.

“No, no, go ahead,” she answered nodding. “I understand. Business before pleasure. I’m used to that from my many years as an Army wife. You go ahead. You know where his den is. I suspect you’ve spent enough time in there listening to him lecture you about one thing or another.”

Nodding to her again, he walked to the sliding wood door leading into Col. McCreary’s personal office. Pausing a moment, Josh knocked sharply twice and waited for Jonathon to answer. It was a longstanding rule in the McCreary family that no one interrupted him while the door was closed.

Jonathon slid the heavy door open. “Ah, Josh. Come on in. I’ve been expecting you.” He wasn’t a big man, but was no less imposing. He was older and no longer bore the close-cropped hair of his military career. When he found himself losing much of his hair in his later years, he shaved the remainder off. He now sported a Van Dyke mustache/beard combination which make him look a more like a grizzled professor than a military man.

As he stood aside, Josh entered without a word. Jonathon slid the heavy door shut, effectively marking their conversation as private—the solid door efficiently deadening any sound emanating from the room. The office was Spartan, filled with metal filing cabinets, ribbons and photographs of comrades in arms in foreign lands on the walls. Jonathon had painstakingly paneled it in oak so it would reflect his previous position. He considered it a place for important business, although he was hardly involved in anything that pressing since retiring several years ago. When he turned back, Josh offered his hand for a handshake, a custom the Colonel had always insisted on before. This time, the older man surprised Josh by wrapping his arm around his shoulder—something he’d never done while he and Becky were dating.

“I assume Susan explained about Becky?” he asked, not elaborating.

“Yeah, it seems she doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Josh lamented. “She thinks this is some elaborate ploy to win her back.”

“It’s not, is it?” Jonathon asked, glancing at him to gauge his reaction. Before Josh could respond, he continued. “No, of course it isn’t. I hadn’t thought you’d try anything like that. You’ve always been very upfront with me, and while we’ve had our disagreements, I’ve always respected how direct you are. Whenever you’ve thought I was in the wrong you didn’t hesitate to call me on it, even when I made it difficult on you. Even more, you always treated my daughter well, despite how she chose to respond.”

He paused as he stepped behind his desk, motioning for Josh to take a seat before him as he sank into the office chair and leaned forward, speaking quietly of personal family matters.

“Personally, I’ve always felt terrible about how things worked out between the two of you. Both Susan and I liked you very much, even though I never showed it. We felt for you, but you understand how we couldn’t take your side and reach out to you. This was between the two of you, and Becky has to learn to live her life by her own decisions.”

“Yes, Sir, I understand the difficult position she put you in,” Josh responded, confused by the direction this conversation was taking. “Since she was the one who broke the whole thing off, and especially how she chose to do it, I can’t understand why she continues to be so resentful.” Josh was willing to drop the whole discussion there, but apparently the Colonel wasn’t.

“How a person responds speaks louder than the actual words they use,” he advised. “The fact you provoke such intense emotions shows you continue to mean a lot to her. Thus she couldn’t take the breakup simply. The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. If you don’t care for someone, you simply don’t care. Instead hatred, like jealousy, is a close cousin of love, one which people often court when their first love doesn’t pan out.”

“Maybe so, but we were friends for much longer than we ever dated. I was willing to let bygones be bygones when she…, when we broke up. She’s the one who seems to be harboring the grudge.”

“That she does. You should see her mother when she gets a bee in her bonnet. There’s nothing you can say to dissuade her, even if she knows she’s wrong. That simple fact won’t budge her. It’s best to address the issue head on.”

“It’s a little hard to do when she won’t speak to me,” Josh pointed out. He noticed his sweaty palms seemed perfectly dry now that they’d maneuvered the conversation onto a side discussion of Jonathon’s daughter.

“No, I’m not saying there are any easy solutions, I’m just trying to explain why she feels as strongly as she does. She needed a clean break, otherwise the pull was too strong. I’m guessing she was afraid she’d get sucked back into your orbit unless she stayed out of your path.”

“Look, Jonathon, I’m sorry if I’m being rude, I appreciate the candor, but I didn’t come here to discuss Becky. I’ve made my peace with what’s happened and I consider it old news.”

“Ah, yes,” The Colonel said, becoming all business as if he’d somehow flipped a switch. “Becky said you had something ‘important’ to discuss. Was there something I could help you with?”

“Yes, Sir,” Josh began, once more feeling ill at ease. “This is a bit unusual and I really can’t explain it, but I need some potential contacts. I figured with your extensive background in the Army you could speak to some people for me.”

“Uh…, if I remember correctly, you were never very big on the military service before.” The Colonel sounded nearly as confused by Josh’s question as he’d been by his daughter’s response to him earlier.

“Actually, I never had a problem with the military itself, just how the civilian command has applied it over the years,” Josh reminded him. He didn’t think it would help his case, though.

“Yeah, I remember,” the Colonel scoffed. “So what is the infamously anti-government Josh doing calling me, looking for assistance with the military?” he asked, clearly intrigued.

“I’ve got a bit of a … situation,” Josh began, struggling to find the right words. “It’s hard to explain, but I’ll give it a try. Imagine a team was lost, out of contact with their superiors in a foreign land with no resources and in dire straits. As a military man, you’d never abandon a man in need, would you? Well, I’ve got a similar situation. I’ve got a group of people who need help, and I need to do it without involving the local authorities, so I wanted people familiar with—”

“Now wait a minute, son,” the Colonel cautioned, glaring at him. “What have you gotten yourself involved in? Who are these people you’re helping that you don’t want anyone to know about? Are you trying to hide some Arab insurgents and you’re asking me to help you circumvent my own government?”

“Please, it’s nothing like that,” Josh hurriedly explained. “But it’s not something I can freely discuss. After all, if you decide you don’t trust me, I’m not about to compromise those I’m trying to protect by revealing their details. I’d have asked you over the phone, but I didn’t want to chance anyone listening in on our conversation and having a stray word kick the conversation upstairs.”

“You do realize those procedures only apply to foreign nationals, don’t you?” Jonathon asked, looking askance at Josh.

“I’m aware that’s the limit of their legitimate use, but I also don’t doubt factions within the organization use it for more than its intended use. There may actually be no one in the Government who would misuse it, but I really don’t want to take that chance. After all, when you grant hundreds of thousands of private contractors top security access to people’s private data with little oversight, there’s no telling how seriously they’ll take the responsibility.”

“Again, if you’re that worried about attracting someone’s attention, it sounds like you’re already feeling guilty. If you don’t think this ‘mission’ is valid, then why would you expect me to put myself out on your behalf?” Jonathon asked, trying to get Josh talking. It was clear Jonathon was reluctant, but he knew Josh was an upstanding guy—even if his mind operated on some weird level the Colonel couldn’t comprehend. But he wanted to get a better idea of what had the young man so concerned he’d risk his own future.

“It’s not guilt, Sir,” Josh answered. “It’s concern. This is a potentially explosive situation. Rather than risking it becoming a political football and becoming bigger than it really is, I prefer handling it myself as delicately as I can. But this situation is nothing like you’re imagining. These people are not a part of any organization the US has any issues with. However, that said, they’d rather remain under the radar. If you decide to put me in contact with anyone, they can come fully armed if they want, and if they think I’m trying to pull anything, they’re free to arrest me and anyone with me. I’ll go willingly, but I just ask that they hear me out first.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Col. McCreary asked. “You’re willing to put yourself at personal risk based on the word of someone you’ve never met, just to help someone you don’t personally know?”

“I never said I didn’t know them,” Josh pointed out, “but you’ve hit it on the head. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. This is very important, and I need people who appreciate the seriousness of the situation, and know what to do in this kind of circumstance.”

“The thing to do would be to ask for help, probably by calling the damn police,” the Col. replied, scowling across the desk.

“I’m sorry, but it’s a bit more complicated than that. Again, I’m not willing to reveal the specific details, but I’m willing to discuss it with whomever you recommend. But time is of the essence. I’m on my way to meet them right now, so you’ve got time to make arrangements. Ideally it would be someone who’s already out of the military, experienced in desert terrain and has some history surviving off the radar in a hostile land.”

“How about if I meet them myself first,” he asked pointedly. “After all, I’m better equipped to evaluate whether someone is being honest or not.”

“Sir, no affront intended, but you’re getting on in years and you’ve got responsibilities, principally those of your daughter and wife. I think it would be better if you stayed out of it so you and your family won’t be implicated if anything happens. I need a few people who can hit the ground running and who can adapt to the situations on the ground. Most of all, I need someone who knows enough not to use force. We’ll have to avoid anyone who’s suffered any post-traumatic events. It’s possible someone may take shots at us, and I don’t want anyone getting over excited and returning fire with the boys in blue if we can avoid it.”

“Thanks for that, son, but despite how the media paints us, not everyone in the military suffers from PTSD,” the Colonel pointed out.

“I understand that, Sir. But I recognize we may be in a compromising position and I want you to be aware of that fact.”

“All right,” Jonathon conceded with a heavy sigh. “I can tell you’re serious about this, even if I have no clue what you’re involved in. Against my better judgment, I’m going to take a chance on this and take your request seriously. Despite my doubts about you in the past, and your unfortunate history with my daughter, I’ve always respected your sincerity and willingness to stand up for what you believe in. Even though you usually piss everyone off with your idealistic notions and fancy talk, you stand by your beliefs. I’ve observed that in many of the men that I’ve served with, and I know what an effective force it can be when applied in the proper direction. That said, just be warned that if you’re taking me on some wild-goose chase, or getting involved with anything questionable, I’ll make sure you NEVER see the light of day again, even if I have to bury you in the woods myself! Understood?”

That was a preview of Stranded in a Foreign Land. To read the rest purchase the book.

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