Far, far away

WHERE TO, PAL?

 

Her long golden hair coils down her back. She speaks. 'I have been here a long time, taught you much. You have taught me also. Now I must go. Goodbye.'

 

I watch her walk, almost drift, away into the horizon. I try to walk in her footsteps but they disappear just as she does. The sky turns an eerie green, unlike any I have ever seen. A thunderous whoosh rings thru my skull. As the noise fades away, the sky returns to azure blue. The sun makes a successful attempt to come out from behind giant, billowing white clouds. My head drops to my chest as a sadness, a loneliness envelope me.

 

The building I walk to is my home base, Dept. Of UFO Research. As usual everything is hectic but under control. Phones at every station ring off the hook. Frightened, curious voices report sightings.
Computers calculate. I fall into a silent frenzy. What I have been sworn to, absorbed in for six months, is still between the golden haired visitor and myself. This mission has been dangerous, unreal. It may one day open doors but may just as easily cause a world panic.

 

There are coded reports I must make immediately. Four Star General Courtney stands waiting ram-rod straight in front of my controlled office. Our fingerprints and eyes are scanned before the heavy metal door flashes 'go.' I have noted the General's fingers are exceptionally broad and permanently stained from years of smoking. I believe I still can detect the yellow smell of smoke. He seats himself in my reclining chair and silently goes over my demeanor as I consider his.

 

I start. 'The lady has gone. Her vehicle is already out of our range. It's speed far exceeds anything we have on hand or on plan. General, I will refer to the lady as N12. She claims to come from a planet we have not yet discovered. It is called Napir, the largest one in her galaxy. Their advanced rocket ships have power and speed twice what we have accomplished. However, N12 advised me that the speed is cut to half on her return to her land. I am assuming would apply to us, in reverse, if and when we can attempt such a feat. '

 

My mind is bursting with the accumulation of information I must pass electronically. I take a chance, state my case of needing time to be prepared to be in the mold for several hours. I gather the guts and ask the General if I may be excused. His brows wrinkle. His face contorts but he agrees, lifts the red phone on my desk. He speaks quickly to President Baylor, 'Copious mental notes that you require from D210 will be ready for you tomorrow, 4 a.m. Stand by.' As he hangs up, he says only, 'Have a calm evening, Officer Herado.'

 

My room is immaculate. I shower, dry the steamed mirror and am overcome by a strange sweet smell that closes my eyes. Sleep comes of its own accord. Something grips my arms, my legs. I try to scream but no sound comes out.

 

Then I see her, N12. Her long twisted hair curls around my throat. It is choking me. Her laugh cackles The last thing I hear is, 'Thanks for the information. President Baylor will never have ours.'

 

My eyes close for the last time.