Your Truth is Out There (Find Your Truth Book 1) (10 page)

Rock on, my children!

Rock on, my love!

Rock all day and rock all night,

Roll in the sounds, from heaven above.

After the music stopped, Henry watched as his new alien friend appeared to be trying to tell him its name. Although he didn’t understand much of what was said, he did catch the word “Zef” repeatedly as it pointed to itself.

Following suit, Henry said his name as he pointed to his chest. Zef nodded understanding and repeated Henry’s name in near perfect English.

Henry smiled and tried to think about what to say next. He was about to try some different music, when he noticed Zef was looking very intently at something over his shoulder. Henry turned around and realized Zef was staring at his paintings, which were still arranged in the clearing behind him.

“What? You want to look at those?”

Clearly he did, as he had already started walking toward them. Henry followed his new eight-limbed friend, who appeared to be totally captivated by his latest works.

Zef started with the painting closest to them and slowly progressed from painting to painting, paying no attention to Henry or anything he was saying. The alien stopped at one painting in particular, clearly moved by what it saw on the canvas.

“You like that one, huh?” said Henry, not really expecting an answer. “I have to admit it’s my favorite too. It has … um, special meaning.”

Indeed it did. It was the last one he had painted and depicted a sun, which had almost completely set behind a gorgeous, snow-capped mountain range. In the foreground was a single figure, sitting on the ground with head in hands. All around the figure lay blank canvases.

“I call it ‘Sunset Over an Empty Life,’” said Henry quietly.

When Zef looked up at him, Henry noticed a single tear flowing down the alien’s light blue cheek and wondered how this being could relate so closely to Henry’s most intimate work. He hoped he might find out someday. Zef pointed to the figure in the painting, then pointed to Henry.

Henry nodded. “Yes, that’s me,” he said.

Zef looked at the painting again, then turned suddenly and started back toward his ship.

“Wait!” Henry said. He picked up the painting and handed it to Zef. “I want you to have this.”

Their eyes met and without further words, there was understanding. Zef accepted the painting with a low bow. As he arose, Henry saw another tear rolling down his face. It was all he could do to not break down himself. They walked back toward the ship in silence, each deep in their own thoughts.

Without warning the peace of the moment was torn apart by a loud voice, which seemed to come at once from everywhere and nowhere.

“ALIEN BEINGS, REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE, WE MEAN YOU NO HARM, BUT YOU MUST COMPLY WITH OUR COMMANDS.”

“Are all units in place?” asked the General.

“Yes sir,” came the answer from the other end of the line.

“Continue with stage one greeting, all known languages and dialects.”

His command was clear and sure, with no indication of the mixed emotions he felt inside. This was no place for any of the personal concerns he might have about their mission. The ramifications this mission would have on his life could be dealt with later. With so much at stake, first contact with an alien race of unknown intentions, there was no room for uncertainty. He hoped the non-terrestrials would be peaceful and they would understand the necessary precautions he had to take, but that was a lot to hope for. Friendly or not, understanding or not, he and his troops would do what was necessary.

The first step, of course, was to try and establish verbal communications, which is why the initial greeting was broadcast in every possible language known to man, including ones based on mathematics and other sciences. This was a long shot, of course, but it had to be tried. The next step would be much simpler and more straightforward; they would take the non-terrestrials into custody, using force if necessary. It would then be up to the linguists and diplomats to sort things out.

“Within visual range, sir,” said the voice in his ear.

The general looked out the window of his chopper and saw a rather tiny spacecraft, with an automobile parked next to it and what appeared to be an alien and a human male in the middle of the clearing.

“Damn,” he said. “It looks like we’re not the first to arrive. Major, be sure to secure the human, as well.”

“Yes sir,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

“ALIEN BEINGS, REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE, WE MEAN YOU NO HARM, BUT YOU MUST COMPLY WITH OUR COMMANDS.”

The message was getting louder and was being repeated over and over in English, French, German, and hundreds of other languages Henry couldn’t make out. As he looked around, he could see military choppers moving in. In the distance, dust was rising from the dozens of ground vehicles heading their way. They were being surrounded.

Henry had watched too many sci-fi movies to believe any military or government, particularly his own, would actually mean no harm to Zef.

It’s more likely they’ll take him to some secret location like Area 51, or something like that,
thought Henry,
and perform unspeakable experiments on him. I can’t let that happen. Zef has to escape, and it’s up to me to help him.

“Zef, take the gun,” he said, as he raised his hands and jerked his head toward his back.

He looked at Zef, who didn’t appear to comprehend. Looking around to see how close their captors were, he risked reaching back with his right hand, keeping his left raised, to point at the gun and then at Zef. He raised his hand again and turned his back completely to Zef.

He glanced back at Zef, who now appeared to understand. Henry felt the gun being removed and they made their way slowly back to the ship.

“Sir, it appears the human has been taken hostage,” said the voice in the General’s ear.

“I can see that Major,” he replied. Alcorn thought for a moment, leaning heavily on his instinctual abilities to read people and situations. “I’m not sure I buy it, but proceed with the hostage alternative.”

There was hesitation on the other end of the line.

“Major Wellston, do you copy?”

“Uh, yes sir. Pardon my asking sir, but what makes you think it may not be a hostage situation?”

“Call it a hunch, if you want to. Proceed with the hostage alternative, but be prepared for anything, and that means taking down the human, if necessary. Is that clear, Major?”

“Yes, sir.” No hesitation this time.

For not speaking the same language, Gsefx believed Henree and he were actually communicating quite well. When Henree raised his hands and pointed to the weapon, it was clear to Gsefx that Henree wanted him to act as though he were taking him hostage. Apparently Henree didn’t trust his fellow Irtlings very much. All the more reason why he shouldn’t trust them either. He was glad he’d met Henree first.

Their ploy seemed to be working; the incoming air and land vehicles had slowed and were currently holding their positions. Gsefx wasn’t sure how long the act would keep the other Irtlings away, but if this planet’s militia was anything like it was on the worlds Gsefx was familiar with, it wouldn’t be long.

Once they made it back to his ship, all he would have to do is get in and take off. He wouldn’t be able to make it home. He wouldn’t even be able to get out of orbit, but he could easily outrun their primitive airships and make it to another location on the planet’s surface. Perhaps one a little less active.

Gsefx kept the weapon pointed at Henree with one hand, opened the door with another, and gently put the painting in the back seat with the remaining two before slipping into the pilot’s seat. Henree remained in front of the doorway, doing his best to block Gsefx from the view of the encroaching military. Gsefx set the weapon down and began strapping himself in, thinking about how nice it would be to take his new friend with him when he left. Languages were easy enough to learn, and after the events of the last few ebyts, he knew they would always be friends.

He shook his head roughly.

By the Gods! This is no time for sentimentality,
he thought.
I've got to get out of here!

He reached over to start the engines, but was struck by the shape of the primitive weapon sitting on the seat. Picking it up again, he gave it a closer look and noticed something he’d missed before.

This is getting serious
, Henry thought as he stood in front of the doors of the alien ship. He knew his own capture was inevitable, even if Zef got away. He wasn’t exactly sure what the military would do to him, and though he wasn’t looking forward to finding out, it would be worth it if he could help his new friend escape. Perhaps he could get his gun back before Zef took off. Then he could still complete his original plan. Suicide might be preferable to the nightmare of being a military prisoner.

Even as he thought this, he shook it away. After all that had just transpired, and after seeing the impression his work had made on a being from an entirely different world, he knew he could no longer voluntarily end his own life. He had to continue painting. He had to find a way to live for his art, even if it meant finding and holding down a mind-numbing day job.

If I get out of this in one piece,
he thought.

When the jeeps, tanks, and other vehicles were within a hundred yards, they stopped and held their position. It appeared they were waiting for something, or someone. If Zef was going to escape, he had better do it now. Whatever they were holding for, it was doubtful they’d wait long. Henry chanced a quick look inside the ship to see what was taking so long. On an afternoon filled with shocking surprises, what he saw offered yet another.

Zef was nowhere to be seen, though Henry could hear him doing something below the ship’s floorboards. What he did see was his .357 magnum, or what was left of it, and five bullets scattered on the floor. The gun had been completely disassembled and the cylinder was missing.

“What are you doing?” he said in the loudest whisper he could manage.

Zef didn’t reappear, so Henry turned back to face the siege party. A jeep was now coming up the road, likely carrying what or who everyone was waiting on. Zef was nearly out of time.

He turned back to the ship’s cockpit. “Whatever you’re doing, you’d better hurry it up!”

From below the floor, Zef appeared, his face all smiles. In one hand he held the missing cylinder to Henry’s .357, and in two of his other hands he held pieces of a strange looking metal that, when pushed together were almost identical to the cylinder of the revolver. Zef showed him the different pieces and pointed down to the area he’d been working.

“What are you trying to tell me,” said Henry, shrugging his shoulders. “I don't understand.”

Undeterred, Zef pulled the two pieces from his ship apart and with his remaining free hand made a downward motion. He then dropped the broken pieces, held up the gun’s cylinder, and moved his hand upward.

“Aha!” said Henry, a light switching on inside his brain. “I get it. That’s why you’re here. Your ship broke down. That’s why it looked so out of control when you landed. It all makes sense now. Okay, get back to work and I’ll do what I can to stall them.” He made a shooing gesture to his new friend.

“STOP WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE DOING, TURN AROUND WITH YOUR HANDS UP, AND STEP FORWARD!”

A frightened look came over Zef’s face. He said something Henry didn’t understand and disappeared under the floor.

Henry raised his hands again, turned around, and saw a large man walking toward him, decked out in full desert camouflage, and four stars on his shoulder.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer,” shouted Henry, trying to sound frightened, which at this point wasn’t difficult. “This thing means business. It won’t hesitate to kill me if you come any closer.”

The General didn’t appear to be concerned with the threat, but slowed to a stop about twenty feet from Henry.

“Just take it easy, son,” said the General. “Everything is going to be fine. We have the situation under complete control.”

“Please don’t come any closer,” said Henry. “It’s already shot at me once and I don’t think it’ll miss the next time!”

The General paused for a moment.

“I can tell you’re scared son,” he said finally. “But I don’t believe it’s the alien you’re afraid of, nor do I believe you’re really being held hostage. No, the way you’ve been fidgeting and turning around, it looks more like you’re trying to protect whatever is inside that ship, maybe even trying to help it escape. Trust me when I tell you, son, you wouldn’t want to do that.”

Henry kept his hands up in the air. The hostage idea wasn’t working and Zef needed more time. His mind raced frantically trying to come up with something that would delay things as long as possible.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” he said finally. He kept his hands raised and glanced quickly back toward the inside of the ship. “I guess we can talk openly. The alien doesn’t seem to understand English very well. I sure don’t understand anything it has said. I’m playing along with it, trying to convince it I’m his friend, so I can get a look inside the ship. It’s working too. It seems to trust me. I’ve had a chance to look around the cockpit. If you keep playing along with me, I might get a chance to learn something more important about it and its intentions.”

The General’s face remained calm and expressionless.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Henry.”

“Henry, listen to me very carefully. I’m General Theodore Alcorn and the soldiers you see around you are an elite division of the United States Army. They have all been hand-picked and extensively trained for a contingency just like this. We are in total control of this situation. I can assure you the non-terrestrial is not going anywhere. I can also assure you we’ll have plenty of time to learn all about it and its intentions. Now just come on over here and let us do our jobs.”