As if from nowhere, he awoke on a park bench. He looked around, the sun was just coming up and he felt a little chilly. “Where am I?” he thought. Worse still, “who am I?”

 

The poor guy did not have a clue. It was as though this was his first day on earth. He didn’t even know what he looked like. He could tell from his hands that he was white, he had black jeans on and a large grey coat, but other than that he was none the wiser. 

 

He just sat there and watched as people were rushing through the park to get where they needed to be. A man whizzed by on a bike and a couple of teenagers strolled past. A harassed woman pushing a buggy with a whiny toddler, almost sprinting, went by.

 

Yet he just sat there. He saw some dogs running around and a squirrel scampering up a tree as though it was being chased. Then the man saw a road and vehicles in the distance. At that point he thought he’d get up and have a look around. 

 

He walked towards the road and the closer he got the louder and busier it became. As he got to the road he stopped and watched as the world was travelling around so quickly. He turned left and walked past a shop window; it showed his reflection. He took a moment to look at himself. 

 

He didn’t recognise the person staring back at him, he felt confused and completely lost. He saw an elderly looking man looking back at him, he was average. Average height, average build and had short hair. He couldn’t really make out any details. 

 

He felt hungry and could smell food coming from a few shops. He checked his pockets to see if there was any money and he found a small leather wallet. He pulled it out and there was a ten-pound note, nothing else other than a business card. It read, The Sea Breeze BnB, Chester Road, Brighton. He looked up at the shop signs to see if there was anything that might have a familiar name, but there wasn’t. There was a Tattooist a bit further down the road and it said on the window in garish bright green writing, “The Best Tattoos in Brighton”. 

 

“Well, that confirms it then, I’m in Brighton”, he said to himself. First things first, breakfast. He found a little cafe and ordered a hot sausage roll and a cup of tea. It went down well, and the sound of his stomach rumbling had ceased. He felt better, but then didn’t know what to do, he felt like a child that had lost his mother. 

 

He had the address of the Bed and Breakfast but didn’t have a map and certainly no phone. He wondered around for a while and saw a few people at the bus stop. He approached a nice-looking lady in her late fifties and asked her if she knew where Chester Road was, she didn’t, but a younger man said he knew and pointed him in the right direction. 

 

The problem with Brighton is that it’s incredibly hilly, and he was already tired from his morning's efforts. He found another bench and sat down to rest. Within a few minutes a scruffy looking fella sat down next to him. He smelt a bit stale and then clicked open a can of cider. They looked at each other, and the scruffy man said, “Do you want some cider? I saw you looking at the can”. 

 

The lost man said, “No thank you, I don’t drink, or at least I don’t think I drink”. 

 

The younger man looked at him for a few moments and said, “what do you mean you don’t know if you drink? What’s the matter with you?”

 

The lost man said, “Well, I don’t think I’ve been here before, so I don’t know if I drink alcohol or even what my name is”. 

 

“What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind? Or did you just drop to earth this morning from space?” said the young man, and he laughed at his own wit. 

 

Looking a bit dazed, the older man said, “I could have, I mean I don’t know how I got here. I don’t remember anything at all”.

 

The younger man replied with a smile, “In that case, you’ll be known as, The Spaceman.”

 

“Oh, very well then, if that’s what you think is best”, said the older man in a deflated voice. “What should I call you?” The scruffy man replied, “you can call me, Banjo”. 

 

That was it, the Spaceman was now his name. After a few more minutes he slowly got up and told Banjo that he was going for a walk up the hill to find Chester Road. Banjo said,

“Ok Spaceman, I’ll come with you, I have a mate staying up that way”. 

 

Off they went very slowly up the hill to find the bed and breakfast. By the time they reached it, both men were out of breath and sat on a garden wall to rest. They looked over at the Sea Breeze BnB and it looked terrible. The paint was peeling off the walls, the curtains were filthy and there was a build up of rubbish in the front yard. However, it wasn’t as bad as the neighbours. It had boarded up windows, the front door was broken and hanging off the hinges. It looked like it was ready for a bulldozer.

 

The Spaceman said, “What a place! That is disgusting, who would live there?”

 

Banjo smiled and said, “my mate Dave stays in that place”, pointing to the run-down derelict house. “It’s a squat, people come and go, it’s chaos, nobody really lives there. My mate Dave has been there for a few weeks, it’s a bit of a drug den, but they have some fun parties. Last week someone overdosed and died, poor girl”. 

 

With that the Spaceman got up and walked over to the BnB, he knocked on the door and a smart woman answered. She looked at him, grabbed his arm, pulled him in and shut the door. Banjo was stunned and knocked at the BnB to see what was happening, but no one answered. He waited for a while then shrugged it off and went next door to see Dave. Within a few minutes Banjo and Dave were smoking a joint. 

 

Meanwhile, the Spaceman was dragged into what looked like the lounge, it was old fashioned and beige. He sat down and two men came in and sat opposite. They stared at him and the taller man said, “Where have you been? We lost you.”

The Spaceman was stunned, he didn’t say anything, he couldn’t because he didn’t have an answer. They repeated the question and just watched him. The Spaceman, replied, “Do I know you? Is this where I live? Am I in trouble?”

The two men stared at each other, the tall one said, “we’d better take him downstairs”.

 

With that they pulled him up by his arms and guided the old man downstairs. The stairs were dark and smelt of damp, as they got closer to the basement, it stunned the old man, he was nervous. Suddenly it was all bright and shiny, it took his eyes a moment to adjust. It was as though he had entered a new dimension. There were huge touch screen TV’s on the walls and people dressed smartly looking busy pushing buttons and speaking into headsets. It was extremely high tech and the men shuffled him past into a smaller room to the side.

 

The Spaceman could see the room looked softer and more welcoming, there was a sofa, a small bed and a sink with some cupboards. He felt like he was at the doctor’s surgery. He sat on the bed, whilst the other two men perched on the sofa, looking confused. Nobody said anything for a few minutes, which was uncomfortable and also surreal. A woman opened the door and was wearing a pristine white three-quarter length coat, she was holding an iPad. 

 

She was in her late thirties, with her hair tied up in a bun, she seemed quite pleasant and asked the old man how he was. He replied in a concerned manner, “I’m fine, but why am I here? Who are you? What’s going on?”

She said, “My name is Zara, and I’m here to extract the intelligence you have obtained for us. I know you have a lot of questions, but your memory should be back soon. First of all I need you to take some tablets, they will help you.” 

With that, Zara, pulled the tablets out of her top pocket and went over to the sink to pour a glass of water. 

 

The Spaceman was in a difficult position, firstly, he didn’t know who he was, where he was or what he was doing, and secondly, he didn’t know if he could trust these people that he’d just met. After plenty of reassurance and encouragement from Zara, he took the tablets and lay down on the bed. The two men left the room and Zara sat down and was tapping away on her iPad. Within a few minutes, the Spaceman began to hallucinate, he was seeing all sorts of colours flying from the walls and around the room, an owl appeared in the corner and just stared at him, it then flew towards him with its talons out and just before contact was made he was out, completely unconscious. 

 

When he awoke from his drug induced sleep, he was alone. The lights were dulled, and it was dead silent. The Spaceman got off the bed and walked over to the sink, he poured himself a drink and sat on the sofa. He still felt a little dazed, so took a few minutes to hydrate and wake up. Once he felt more stable he stood up and walked over to the door, it was locked. He tried to force it, but there was no chance of opening it. He knocked and said, “hello”, nothing, so he tried again, nothing, so he went and sat back down on the sofa. 

 

Around an hour later, the door opened, Zara walked in. 

“Well, Mr Smith, you’re back with us. Now we need to debrief you. Let’s take you into Interview Room 3, come on.”

The Spaceman followed Zara into the bare room, it just had a desk and three chairs, no pictures, no signs, nothing. They sat down opposite each other and Zara looked at him for around thirty seconds before she said,

“Mr Smith, tell me about the Wrecking Crew? What did you find out?”

The Spaceman replied, “I didn’t find anything out, I have no idea what you are talking about, what’s going on?”

“This is most odd Mr Smith; you should have your full memory back by now. You’re not holding anything back from us are you? These people are incredibly dangerous and we’re expecting an attack ASAP. If we don’t stop this group, they will kill somebody, they’re reckless.”

Zara said in a slightly concerned manner. 


“Can I go please? I have a friend waiting for me”, asked the old man. 

“No you can’t, you will wait here until you tell me everything you know about the Wrecking Crew. Just tell me”. Zara was clearly getting annoyed and impatient, her voice was becoming higher pitched and louder, she was on the verge of screaming. 


Zara made a quick call, the two men walked in and grabbed the Spaceman, both were either side of him and they took him into another small room, it looked like a laboratory. It had a CT scanner, which dominated the room, he was motioned to lay down on it and not move. They started the scan which was making all sorts of noises and moved around his head, it was loud and scary. Once it had finished, they told him to wait. They took blood and hair samples and even took his fingerprints. 

 

Zara came back in after a few hours, she said, “Unfortunately, the results have been analysed and the damage to your memory could be irreversible. We haven’t got time to waste waiting to see, so we’re going to send you on your way. Whatever you do, do not speak of this place, otherwise we will come for you.”

“Ok, but who are you? Who’s Mr Smith?” said the Spaceman. 

Zara, snapped back, “We’re from a government agency, we keep people safe, that’s all you need to know”. 

 

The Spaceman was unceremoniously kicked out of the BnB or safe house, or whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t his home. As he left, Zara said, “get yourself to the council, it’s about fifteen minutes away, head down the hill, it’s a huge building, they might be able to help you”.

There was a sound of a banjo coming from the squat as he walked off, he thought about knocking for his new friend but decided to leave it, it looked intimidating. 

 

The Spaceman followed her directions and found the grand council building, he told them that he didn’t know who he was, and he was recently kidnapped by secret agents. The kindhearted housing officer, who had intended on helping the Spaceman with temporary accommodation, realised that he wasn’t safe to be left alone, he wasn’t making any sense, so called the police who eventually arrived and sectioned him, for his own safety. 

 

They took him to the local mental hospital where he was assessed by a nurse. They gave him his own small room and reassured him that the doctor will come and examine him the following day. He was fed, given clean clothes and slept. 

 

At first Dr Brown thought the Spaceman had a simple case of amnesia. Maybe due to a bang on his head or possibly a seizure due to a tragic event which his brain was trying to delete. However, the more he spoke with the Spaceman the more he was intrigued and fascinated by what he had to say. 

 

After a few sessions the Spaceman began to talk about the planets and the solar system. He had a deep knowledge of the 8 planets, 290 moons, 1.3 million asteroids and about 3900 comets. He knew their names, their routes, he even knew locations of some black holes. It was extraordinary. 


Doctor Brown was convinced his new patient was a lecturer at a university or worked at the UK Space Agency. He made the relevant calls but nothing, he wasn’t even listed as a missing person with the police. 

 

The Spaceman just spent his days watching TV or reading. He spoke to other patients but on the whole, he kept himself to himself in between treatments. He still didn’t know who he was, and couldn’t explain his incredible knowledge, he was turning into the scientist Dr Brian Cox. 

 

Then one day, the Spaceman spoke about leaving and told the Doctor that his friends were picking him up. The Doctor questioned this and told him that he wasn’t ready to be discharged. Then the Spaceman said something that shocked the Doctor, he said, 

“My friends don’t need your permission; they will take me this Friday. No one will be able to stop them”. 

The Doctor had so many questions, but the Spaceman casually walked back to his room without saying another word. In fact the Spaceman didn’t say another word for the rest of his stay. 

 

On Friday morning the Doctor got into work early and rushed to the Spaceman’s room.

 

 It was empty. The bed was made and there was no sign he had ever been there. The doctor ran to the dining hall, he also spoke to staff. No one had seen him since Thursday night. He checked CCTV, nothing. The Spaceman had disappeared, like the invisible man. 

He didn’t leave a trace, other than a small business card for The Sea Breeze BnB, Chester Road, Brighton.

 


 

Six months later, there was an explosion at a university building, the Wrecking Crew had targeted it due to the experiments on animals. They’d targeted the logistical aspects of the university; they wanted to destroy the IT systems. 

 

The Wrecking Crew used far too many explosives and took out the whole building, killing one person and maiming another. Zara and her team were working day and night trying to find out who and where these guys were. The injured man was in a serious way and the doctors wouldn’t let anyone near him for fear of contamination, he had 40% burns and internal bleeding. He was going to need constructive surgery to repair his injuries. 


The dead man was taken to the coroner, he had no identification on his person, his DNA had not been traced, but he had a few tattoos. The police released pictures of these in the media, trying to get a family member or a friend to come forward to identify him. The tattoos were of a Celtic cross on his arm and a banjo on his chest. 


The injured man was in intensive care for two weeks, the police were eventually able to test his DNA and fingerprints in order to identify him. 


It was Mr Smith, the Spaceman. 


Months later, when the Spaceman was well enough to talk, he had a visit from Zara. Amazingly he had regained his memory, he wished he hadn’t. He had a tragic tale to tell. 


At 17, he moved to the US, after his father got a job with NASA. He had a great life, he became a Biochemist, he married a beautiful woman called Sara and they had a wonderful son called Zak. Last year, Sara and Zak went out for dinner, they were caught up in a robbery and both were shot and killed. Mr Smith had a breakdown and couldn’t live with the pain he was suffering; it was too much to bear for him. He decided to return to England and get away from the memories. 


He realised when he got back to England that he didn’t have a lot to come back for. His parents had died, he was an only child, and his friends had long disappeared from the area. He stayed in a small hotel in the Kemptown part of the city, he had some money so didn’t really need to work, he didn’t know what to do with his days.


 He began to find a routine of going for a walk after breakfast, he was into photography so loved taking pictures of the beautiful historical buildings as well as the run-down graffiti covered slums. It was all fascinating to him, taking pictures during different times of the day would give him a completely different image, the colours would change, the people rushing around was always so different. 

 

On one of his walks, he was approached by a woman, Abbie, she was pretty and dressed in hippie attire. She was nice and they made small talk about the weather and where it was good to eat out. A few days later they met again, and it became more regular, it got to the point she accompanied him for his photographic tours, they became friends.

 

After a while, Abbie began to ask more personal questions and spoke about her hatred of animal cruelty. She mentioned PETA and said that there was a movement in Brighton.

She discovered that he was a Biochemist, this fascinated her as it gave her an insight into the scientific world. Their friendship became stronger, and he opened up about his wife and his son. He wanted to hold on to this information as it was so personal but once he started talking about his love for them, and how they still impacted his thoughts almost every second of the day, he couldn’t stop, it flowed like his tears. It was amazing, Abbie proved to be a great listener, she paid attention and let him remember. She was a humanist as well as an animal rights activist. 

 

After what seemed like hours, Mr Smith thanked Abbie, and they hugged. She held him tightly, he cried, for a moment he completely lost control of himself and just wept like a child. He felt absolutely exhausted and went back to his room and lay down. He noticed a small envelope that was slid under his door. He opened it and it was a business card, which read, The Sea Breeze BnB, Chester Road, Brighton, he couldn’t understand why he had been sent it, so just placed it in his wallet, lay down and fell asleep. 

 

During the night, he tossed and turned and wept some more, he was heartbroken. His heart actually broke, and he had a terrible seizure, nature has a funny way of hitting the reset button. He fell out of bed and banged his head on the bedside table. Luckily he was still dressed, he had lost all sense and hobbled out of the hotel, walked to the park and lay down on a bench.

 

Abbie had been feeding her informative chats with Mr Smith back to her friends. Her friends just so happened to be activists in an exclusive group called the Wrecking Crew. At this point they were just out to cause annoyance, leaflet drop, display posters and to cause disruption. All low level ways of spreading the message to the people about animal cruelty. Mr Smith was seen as someone who could be useful and advise them further into how the scientists work with the animals and how they could stop the process. After Mr Smith opened up to Abbie, she realised how damaged he was. She was dead against the group using him, but it was too late. 

 

The next thing he knew, Mr Smith had woken up on a bench in a park in Brighton. He had forgotten everything, his mind had shut down. This is when Banjo got involved, he was the next step in the recruiting process. Banjo wasn’t aware of the Intelligence Department at The Sea Breeze BnB, but he waited and watched. When Mr Smith was sectioned, Banjo had an associate working security at the hospital, the planned breakout was easy. The CCTV was deliberately switched off, and Mr Smith was led out of the front door at 3am in the morning, without any resistance at all. Banjo was there to pick him up and took him to a friend’s house, where he was groomed and indoctrinated into the Wrecking Crew.

 

After years of low level disruption, the Wrecking Crew had plans to make a headline attack on the use of defenceless animals for science at the university. The plan was to blow up the IT server which would set the university back years. A group of four were tasked with the operation, including Mr Smith and Banjo who was leading the team. Due to their lack of knowledge of explosives, Mr Smith put together a chemical reaction which would be enough to cause the damage they’d required. 

Unfortunately, Mr Smith had misjudged the amount needed and had a “you’re only supposed to blow the bloody doors off” moment. The chemical reaction took out the IT server but had a domino effect on the building and the whole place came down. Banjo and Mr Smith were caught in the explosion, Banjo died and Mr Smith lived to tell the tale. 

 

Due to Mr Smith’s mental health issues, he wasn’t prosecuted due to his age and diminished responsibilities, he was put on a care order to see out his days in a controlled care home. He only lived another two years. Abbey continued to visit him, and on occasions brought her son along to visit, he looked just like Banjo, but Mr Smith never asked and Abbey never confirmed it. 

The Spaceman suffered with his long-term injuries, his depression and his old age. He was looking forward to death and had stopped taking his medication. On his final day on earth, Abbie was by his side, he wrote a quote in his diary, 

 

“The only real battle in life is between hanging on and letting go” (Shannon L Alder).

 

With Abbie holding his hand, he faded away to be with his wife and son.


The End.