Unwilling From Earth Page 5

  Mark rushed to get off the bus and started to walk to the office. Suddenly, he stopped dead as a thought struck him and he pulled together several threads that had happened in the last couple of days. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he felt a bit sick. He stopped so suddenly that a young woman who had been walking closely behind him walked right into his back, nearly knocking him over. She stumbled and swore at him as she stomped past but Mark was so shocked by his thought that he barely noticed the collision and was oblivious the young woman’s colourful insults.

  After a moment, he smiled, shook his head and dismissed the idea as being too ridiculous for words, and resumed his walk to the office.

  Once again Mark found the archive door open and Alan already there.

  “Good morning Mark.” Alan greeted him. “Still no sign of your leopard.”

  “There is no leopard – it’s a joke,”

  “A joke leopard?”

  “No, it’s a quote from a really well known book, The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy. You must have heard of it.”

  Alan paused a moment and said “Oh yes, the book by Douglas Adams where Arthur Dent tries to get to the plans to demolish his house but they are in a locked filing cabinet in a locked room with a sign that says ‘Beware of the Leopard’ on the door. Very amusing.”

  “Now how did he suddenly know so much detail about that when a moment ago it meant nothing to him?” Wondered Mark.

  Alan walked down to the section of the archive where most of the papers from the mid-twentieth century were kept. Mark shrugged, hung up his coat and started sorting files and stacking them outside the door, ready to be collected for scanning.

  The day passed much the same as the day before, with Alan asking for help finding something mid morning and Mark spending the rest of the day helping Alan find files and papers that were of interest to him.

  It was only late in the afternoon that Mark remembered his dreams from the previous night and looked across to Alan.

  Alan was preoccupied with some handwritten papers and waving his mobile phone over them. Alan had a good look at him. Six feet eight inches tall, slim but with an unusual pot belly, a coat buttoned up to the neck that reached almost to the ground. Pale, tight, almost white skin. A tight beany style hat pulled down over his head with no sign of any hair, stubble or, he realised, eyebrows. He also wore wrap-around sunglasses which were never taken off even in the gloom of the poorly lit sub-basement where the archive was located.

  The same cold shiver went down his spine that he had felt on the walk from the bus stop to the office and he had to sit down. Mark found himself in a dilemma. If he voiced his suspicions to anyone else they would think him mad. If he insisted that people listened to him he would probably be sectioned and spend time in a secure room with a psychiatrist. But – he might have information that affected the whole human race. He knew where he sat on the courage spectrum. Down near the bottom. He was starting to hyperventilate at the thought that he might be right. He knew he had to find out.

  “Are you all right?” Asked Alan. “You don’t look well.”

  “Uh, no. I’m not all right. Where do you come from?” Mark blurted out.

  “I told you when we first met. I am a history professor at Illinois State University in Chicago.”

  “No, I mean, where do you really come from?”

  “Ah. Not from around here. Why do you ask?”

  “Your story about why you are here is unlikely. That email that came after I told you my name – as if Hank Petersen would have ever heard of me, let alone know that I’m doing a job that should be done by someone from General Admin. That’s suspicious enough, but you, well – you don’t look human.”

  Now that he had said it, Mark realised just how ridiculous it all sounded. He wished that he could wind time back a bit and relive the last few minutes without saying anything. He sat waiting for Alan to be either outraged or to laugh and sneer at his idiocy.

  But neither of those things happened.

  “You are very perceptive Mark.” Alan said quietly. “Considering how aware your people are about trivial things like the colour of skin, accents and the country where someone was born I am surprised that I haven’t been challenged before. But as I am almost finished here now and will be leaving in a couple of days it shouldn’t really matter. Trust me, I mean no harm here. What do you propose to do now?”

  Mark couldn’t speak. The room seemed to be moving around him. It really was true. He felt a bit sick. Then the room moved a bit more quickly.

  Mark looked up. He had been dreaming and wanted to go back there. Alan was leaning over him holding a glass of water.

  “Stay there a moment,” Alan said. “you banged your head when you fell off your chair.”

  Mark felt at peace, still half feeling he was dreaming and he didn’t want the dream to stop - although he couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about. He was not at all phased by the sight of Alan looming over him.

  “I’m fine, fine thanks.” Mark said.

  Alan gently picked Mark up as if he were a doll and carefully sat him in his chair again, making sure he was secure and half propped against a table.

  “Do you remember what we were just talking about?” Asked Alan.

  “Oh, oh God – you are an alien!” Mark tried to stand up but Alan put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat.

  “Wait a moment,” Alan said, “rest a while, you fainted because the blood drained out of your head and we need to make sure your blood pressure is back up to normal before you start moving about again.” He paused while Mark sat back in his seat. “You are correct, I am not of this world. But you have nothing to worry about. I know your culture has a fear of aliens, both terrestrial and extra-terrestrial, but you don’t need to, particularly not from me. My story about me being here to do historical research is true. I am a researcher just here to study and I have almost finished. In two days I’ll be gone and nobody apart from you will ever know that I was here.”

  “Gone? Are you going back to your planet?”

  “No, I’ll finish cataloguing and archiving my research, then go on to my next assignment.”

  Mark had recovered now and was thinking very clearly. Much more clearly than he usually did.

  “Wait a minute, you’re just a researcher?”

  “I wouldn’t say – just – a researcher. I am a Cultural Archivist which is considered to be the most important thing that anyone can do by my People. But if you mean do I do anything else, the answer is no. This is all I do.”

  “So, you go from planet to planet studying their culture?”

  “It’s not only planet to planet, many cultures are on multiple planets and often multiple star systems and it’s a bit more

  involved than just studying their cultures.”

  “So what more do you do – and why do you do it?”

  “That’s a bit complicated. How are you feeling now?”

  Mark had a thought that was like a light being switched on. It wasn’t quite what he had in mind for changing his life, but wow! This would do it! “I’m fine. Look, we’ve been working together and we’ve got to know each other a bit. I’ve got nothing to stay here for – I could come with you and help you!”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I wouldn’t want to take you out of your environment.”

  “Stuff my environment, I hate it here. I’ve never felt like I belonged. I’ve no brothers or sisters and I have to phone my parents once a year to remind them that I exist, then they tell me to come and stay with them in their retirement villa in the Algarve, where they remind themselves of me for a couple of days, remembering all my flaws and the disappointments that I’ve given them all my life. My mum nags me because I don’t go to church and my dad calls me a fool because I don’t touch wood for luck, I step on cracks in the pavement, I don’t throw salt over my shoulder if I spill it or any of the other hundreds of stupid superstitions that he believes in and tells me t
hat’s why I am so unlucky and such a failure. Then they ignore me for another ten days and I go home. I haven’t got any friends here and when I hear about people dying young I just think you lucky bastards, why couldn’t it be me!”

  Mark was breathing heavily when he finished and realised that he was now standing and he had been shouting.

  “You certainly made your point with passion.” Alan said. “it is very irregular. I will have to think about it.”

  “If it’s irregular, it’s not forbidden. So - why not?” He demanded.

  “It’s really not that simple. If you were on a beetle hunting expedition in the Amazon and a chimpanzee started hanging around and you befriended it, would you take it with you when you left?"

  “What! I am not a chimp! You arrogant - arrogant…. I can’t think of anything as arrogant – and insulting – “

  “Bad choice of words,” Interrupted Alan. “I’m not calling you a chimpanzee, it’s just that we are considerably different. Your species has only been at its currently evolutionary level for a short time. My people have been at our level for a very, very long time. The differences are unimaginable for you.”

  “I have a very good imagination.” Said Mark, coldly. “I am sure that we could rub along together and I could survive your arrogance and rudeness.”

  Alan was a bit shocked to hear this. He was meticulous about conforming to the manners of the culture that he was living in, so being called rude was almost like a physical blow to him. He realised that in this culture it was a huge insult to compare a human to another branch of their evolutionary tree even though there was only about one percent difference in their DNA.

  “I am truly sorry to have offended you, Mark. It was not my intention. I’ll leave now, it’s nearly half past five anyway and I know that you like to make sure that the door is securely locked before leaving. I’ll consider your proposition overnight.

  Alan collected his rucksack and walked to the door. “Goodnight Mark, I will see you in the morning.”

  Mark watched Alan leave, still angry at him because of what he had said, but also worried that he would turn him down. His request to be taken with Alan was made on the spur of the moment but it seemed so right, such an obvious solution to his dissatisfaction with, well, everything, that not to go now would be such a disappointment to him that he didn’t think that he could survive it.

  He felt a twinge of guilt, he had just made a friend, someone who had shown him kindness and seemed to like him for some reason, it seemed like a bit of a betrayal to just go off on an ’adventure’ and drop her like a used tissue, but Sally seemed to have a lot of friends in the Chequers. He doubted that she would miss him for long.

  The Day Of Uncertainty

  Mark didn’t sleep well again, but it wasn’t bad dreams that disturbed his sleep this time. He kept waking up turning over in his mind what had happened that day. He had been having a problem coming to terms with what his life would be in the future if he didn’t do something to change it. At thirty-six it was a bit late in life to start again, but this seemed like such an obvious solution, it was as though fate had it in store for him all the time. However, it seemed that Alan didn’t want to play his part in fate’s plan.

  When he got into work he was surprised to find the archive door locked. He felt an empty feeling spreading through his body. He swiped his ID card, keyed in the entry code and walked in. The archive was exactly as he had left it last night. He looked around hopefully, but there was no sound, no movement, no Alan.

  “Maybe he’s just coming in late.” Thought Mark, trying to buoy up his spirits.

  Sally came in just before ten with her usual smile, with lipstick on her teeth. She hung her coat up and looked around.

  “No professor Alan today?” She asked.

  “No, he doesn’t appear to be coming in today.”

  Her smile turned into a big grin. “Never mind, perhaps he’s gone back to – America or wherever it was he said he came from. Tea?”

  Mark nodded and Sally disappeared out of the door again.

  “At least she’s happy.” Mark thought and sat with his feet up on the desk, staring down the length of the archive.

  After he had drunk his tea, Mark got up from the desk and started working. He looked across the archive and saw that Sally had moved some of the tables around to make space and was doing stretching exercises again. “Pilates?” He called out.

  “Yes, got to keep it up.” She replied smiling.

  Mark thought that if Alan wasn’t coming back perhaps he should start doing Pilates. It obviously strengthened you up, He didn’t think that he could move those chunky old tables by himself but Sally seemed to have no problem with them. He sighed. That wasn’t really the step-change he wanted to make to his life, but at least it would get him out a bit. Sally wouldn’t mind if he went to Pilates classes with her.

  As Mark was only working slowly and without any enthusiasm, he didn’t mind Sally not working at all. It meant that he didn’t have to chat with her and he really wasn’t in the mood to. He was condemned to work down here for the foreseeable future, with no end in sight, so a temporary drop in productivity wouldn’t make much difference.

  At half past four, Sally moved all the tables back to their original positions and pulled on her coat.

  “it was fun last Friday, shall we go to the Chequers again tomorrow night?”

  “Yes, OK.” Said Mark, without enthusiasm. He was bitterly disappointed by Alan abandoning him without even saying why he wouldn’t take him, but he might cheer up a bit at the Chequers.

  Sally first frowned, then smiled. “OK. See you in reception tomorrow at half past five. Don’t be late.” She gave a grin and walked toward the door, turning to smile and wave at him at the door as she left.

  “Don’t be late!” Mark said out loud to himself. ”She was late last week and almost forgot about it. Huh, women!” He felt rather foolish for having said that because, if ever there was a man that knew nothing about women, it was him. He smiled at this and began to tidy up before leaving.

  There wasn’t much to do, he had done hardly any work all day. He was just about to get his coat and lock the door when Alan quietly came in.

  A Change Of Heart

  Mark looked up at Alan in surprise.

  “What the – I thought – why are you here?” Stuttered Mark.

  “Has she gone?” Asked Alan.

  “What – you mean Sally? Yes, she left about forty minutes ago.”

  “Good. I’ve given your proposal a lot of thought and in the circumstances decided that you can accompany me. This is your only opportunity to change your mind. You could be away for a long time. Possibly forever. It will be completely different from anything that you have known before and you may meet danger. Are you sure you want to come?”

  “Yes,” Said Mark. “Definitely. Anything but this! I’d better call Sally and my Parents and I’ve got to sort out my flat – I’ve got milk in the fridge and half a pizza. Then I’ve got to pack and email the landlord, and there are probably other things I need to do – I forgot, my suit is still at the cleaners, I’d better get that. Stuff the job, it will probably take them a fortnight to realise that I’m not here anyway.”

  “No time for that, we’re leaving now.”

  “What, right now? OK, I’ll just empty my fridge out and pack then…”

  “I mean now. Right now. This instant. Immediately. Come on, let’s go.”

  “What? Don’t we have to get tickets or something? Passports? Where are we going from? What will I wear?”

  “You don’t need to worry about any of that and I can find something for you to wear.” Mark doubted that. Alan always wore the same thing and even if he had spares they would swamp him.

  “Just follow me.” Said Alan as he turned and strode along the corridor towards the stairwell.

  Mark hesitated a second, grabbed his coat, slammed the door shut behind him and ran to catch up.

  Mark almost had
to run just to keep up with Alan, he walked remarkably fast. They walked across the City, which was only a couple of miles, the City was quite small, and reached the industrial area. Alan made straight for the stacked up containers and rubbish skips at the back of the empty unit and walked up to one of them. It was cube-shaped, about three metres on each side and the same high. Unlike the others, it was painted black with no letters or markings on it and had no rust. By now Mark was breathing heavily and sweating from their fast walk, almost a jog, from the office. He noticed that Alan wasn’t breathing hard.

  Alan stood still for a moment, looking at the black container. Silently a part of the wall slid to one side to reveal an opening in the container. It was dark inside.

  “Are we getting into this container?” Asked Mark, gasping to get his breath back.

  “This isn’t a container. Come on, get in.” Said Alan, as he stepped inside. Mark paused and leant his hand against the wall of the container. It was only a few minutes ago since Alan said that they must leave right away and since then Mark had been virtually running to keep up with him. He was out of breath and sweating. Now that he had time to get his breath back and gather his thoughts, he was wondering whether this was a good idea.

  Mark remembered the note that Sally had put in his wallet on their first date last Friday. Sally was the only person who had shown him friendship without wanting something in exchange and she seemed to think that he could actually change his life - which he had consistently failed to do over the years. He had said he would meet her tomorrow night and here he was, about to get into a large steel crate with a weird stranger without even having said goodbye to her. And Alan was a very strange stranger. He could be a homicidal lunatic for all that Mark knew. Even if Alan really was an alien, Mark remembered the girl in the first Men In Black movie who was grabbed by the bug to be taken along with it to provide a meal for it on its journey. Maybe he should tell Alan that he had changed his mind, get a bus back home and go out with Sally again tomorrow night. This could be dangerous and going out with a girl - even if it was only Sally, was probably enough excitement for him right now.