Visitation - Reality (book 1 of 2)

I spent over an hour chatting with two very ordinary people

There was something about them, in some odd way that I could not quite put my finger on.

The Doctor interjected, “The difference, Ian, is you.”

He was reading my mind again and verbalising it.

“No Ian, it's not that exactly,” he continued, but not in speech, “you are broadcasting at a fairly loud volume; less than the last time I drew your attention to it, you are improving, but still quite loud. This is in addition to your spoken words. You are very lucky that John and Sue do not have your ability. You are sensing things differently now and always will.”

John and Sue were bemused. They knew of the ability amongst their own kind but had never really come face to face with someone who exhibited it as I, apparently, was doing. They had been briefed before coming to see me but they still found it curious that a second hidden ‘conversation’ could be going on at the same time as the one they could hear.

I apologised for the confusion I was causing, I was not being polite. They told me that they could understand in a way or at least accept the difficulties I was experiencing.

They were a nice couple, about the same age as me. They were so expressive of their gratitude as they told me, that I had saved both their lives and those of their newly married offspring. This was an illustration, the clearest so far and as if one were needed, that I had genuinely tapped into something very real and my words could affect lives.

At the prompting of the Doctor, we said our temporary goodbyes, because we knew, or rather seemed to sense, that we would likely be meeting again at some time in the future.

The Doctor, whose name I still did not know and which he declined to advance, prompted me again, in what was becoming my normal means of communication.

“Tidy yourself and this place up a little Ian. I’m, now aware that a very important visitor is on her way to meet you, a visitor of the highest importance that any of us is ever likely to meet face to face.”

“How do you know she is on her way,” I asked, “If she is that important, you wouldn’t be reading her mind surely.”

“No Ian,” he laughed, “I do not have unrestricted access to her mind but she does of mine, in a polite sort of way. She’s very close now, please stand when she comes in; all will be explained shortly, please be polite.”

Before I could ask how it was that he received notification from these mind communications while I stood in the same room and next to him but didn’t, the door opened and in strolled a tall, impressive and assured female figure.

She was taller than me, possibly of six feet in height or so, very slim, in a light beige sort of trouser suit with an open collar and no jewellery that I could detect. Her facial appearance caught me out. A somewhat alluring face that drew me in, mounted above a narrow neck but with an elongated, distended skull shape that I had last seen in photos of the busts of a certain Egyptian queen, the one I had written about indirectly .

Her steps were measured and told of authority. She turned to face me squarely.

“It’s rude to stare, Ian,” she chided and I was absolutely certain that her communication was mental, not physical, but with a cold tone to be found as if she had spoken.

“Have you briefed Ian, or not?” she queried of the Doctor, turning slightly in his direction. “Am I wasting my time, I hope not?”

I was listening to her mental conversation with the Doctor although I wasn't sure if I should be.

“Of course you should be Ian,” she now snapped at me. “At this range, those with the ability can hear each other as though they were talking normally. Have you not been made aware of this?” She glanced again at the Doctor with a sternness developing in her face.

She did not wait for a reply but continued with me; the Doctor, I assumed did not care to intervene.

“Since this is the first time we have met and because you are still not fully recovered, I will forgive you.” Her eyes had a certain sparkle of humour in them as she thought to chide me yet again.

This was echoed in a slight turn of her mouth with the glimmer of a smile. She meant what she said but was putting me right, straight from the off and in a not unpleasant way.

“Yes I am,” Her voice came clearer to me in my head than any I had sensed so far. “My talent for this sort of communication is mainly natural,” she continued, “although I spent many years refining it as a young girl.”

“It comes from the same set of genes that gave me this head shape and the increased mental abilities that sometimes, but not always, go with it. Let me introduce myself straight away,” she said, her mental voice softening.

“My name is Caterin and I am the Project Leader for a scheme that may just see the survival of both a selection of your species and, hopefully, all of my own.”

“My parents gave me this name in honour of a lady that is in our records as being a direct ancestor of my family. It is a name you should recall using yourself in your writing,” she continued.

“I received it when the shape of my head was seen after my birth. I was categorised immediately as a special person and given a special name. My parents did not know just how special until I grew into a precocious, naughty young child and caused a lot of bother, especially since I was not allowed to leave this place.”

“I am a freak by most peoples’ standards,” she explained rather bluntly, “but in reality I am the genetic future, once again.”

I did not understand that last bit.

“Let me explain,” she said. She was good, I had tried to keep my thoughts close to myself and personal but she had detected them nonetheless. “And let me also say, briefly, that it is possible that you will be able to keep some of your thoughts private, as currently you believe you cannot; it will come with time and practice.”

It was hard trying to keep my mind blank. Matters were progressing at a speed that was confusing and almost overwhelming with the amount of information flowing my way.

“Let me start again to explain and try not to think out so loud when you’re in close proximity to someone else, even I can be put off by that,” she continued. “Please be seated, and you Doctor, and I, will start to explain as much as possible.”

With that, she sat down on one of the easy chairs (there were now three in the room) with the Doctor and me following suit.

“I am the chance product of a mixture of DNA sequences originating with our people, as they once were on our home planet, diluted from the expediency of having to mix with your people here on this planet for survival, and now recombining,” she started in a pleasant, calm tone.

“If we had continued along our genetic path before the disaster then, perhaps, we would belong to a race where this ability and head shape were the norm.”

“You are similarly a freak Ian,” she said as her eyes sparkled and stared straight into mine most firmly.

A penetrating searching look that was not at all intimidating, just seeking for something that I did not recognise. She held the stare for a little time more than I was comfortable with.

“You will come to recognise what I am looking for in your eyes, and what it is that I see right now. There will come a time when you will also find yourself looking into someone else’s eyes and you will then know why and you will remember this moment, I promise you.”

“But you are a freak in a nice way,” she offered, “and for the same reason as me.”

“The DNA we introduced into your species so long ago, nearly lost completely by your own great disasters, and over the many thousands of years slowly recombining or being lost as generation succeeded generation, is now reaching a critical stage of development. There have been instances of some very clever people in your recent history that could be described as geniuses; they were one expression of the specific DNA combination being almost fully there or becoming activated. The Doctor has explained this already, has he not? But I believe a little more might just reinforce it.”

She seemed to pause for breath, yet she wasn't using her voice.

“Others, mainly in the ancient past had the trait of the elongated head, as my own, and this was also a part expression of the dominant DNA strand but different, more often than not, to the one that provided the intellectual nature.”

“You are neither a genius nor do you have an elongated head,” she stated quite simply.

I could have said that, as she smiled at me, clearly realising what I was thinking.

“You are a combination that is particular to your species where a degree of intellectual ability combined with a talent for creativity is evident. Most importantly, a talent to be aware, in a conscious way or not, of what we call the Universal Presence or Universal Consciousness, depending upon the point of view adopted, is also very evident.”

“That’s a fairly lengthy explanation but if I can put it into simple terms, let me put it this way. You are able to have contact with another place, not properly known to us or yourselves, that can provide guidance and information, whether you know it or not. Many of your species have hints of this ability but they often combine it with a religious sense and as a result generally lose any real cognisance of what they are actually experiencing.”

“This is again the DNA effect coming to fruition but in a fairly minor way, though it seems to be given much prominence, incorrectly, by many of your kind.”

“You Ian,” she said now focussed completely on my presence, her eyes looking directly and deeply into mine, “have a particular combination that showed itself when you were very young, although it was not recognised at the time.”

Her gaze was unflinching, but somehow it developed subtly into warmth, an inner warmth that I had not experienced before now. I found myself totally relaxed but completely engrossed in every word she spoke.

“It later became developed as a direct result of your innate desire to seek information of a particular sort and reach, you could say, a holistic understanding of your existence. The desire to select the subject matter that you did in bookshops, for example, was a direct, although unknown, effect of your contact with the Universal Consciousness.”

This was ringing bells.

“As your self education over many years slowly increased, so did your mental capabilities. You clearly did not recognise it as such and, of course, neither did we until this book of yours was published, a story you believed to be completely fictitious.”

“Others also came to a similar conclusion about you as we did and were determined to remove you from this life to prevent what might happen if they did not. They were wrong to try this only to satisfy their own agenda. What you can offer to both our species, now that we have carefully nurtured and switched on more sections of your DNA, you will come to realise in time, possibly a very short time.”

“We know we were correct because of what has now become your natural ability in using your mind to communicate with others similarly gifted; an innate gift that has been on the verge of coming to fruition during your lifetime. This is exemplified by the apparent guidance and communication with the other place that you must have experienced, and which has now been brought to a full potential by our genetic modifications.”

“You are not the only one of your species to develop like this, there are others, perhaps not as advanced as yourself, but who we have spotted and are now here in this haven, or being actively collected. You are simply the first and possibly with the greatest potential talent, that has come to our attention so far.”

“For that reason and because events are moving at a pace we did not anticipate, you have been selected for a very special purpose which may result in the salvation and continuation of both our species despite what these nefarious aliens, now here on this planet, are believed to be plotting.”

I had listened to a great deal of information, some of it making good sense to me, other existing within a cloud of slight confusion. I was reminded of some of the technical seminars I had attended as an engineer where the mud has to be allowed to stick until a point is reached where the meaning suddenly becomes clear and it all has relevance.

I believed that I was taking it all in but I was becoming swamped with information and concepts sufficient to need a rest badly.

“Fruit juice,” the Doctor announced.

All communication now seemed to be mentally driven, use of our normal voices being dropped by everyone. The room was so quiet and yet it was filled with the sound of our thoughts.

“We have some fresh and I think we would all benefit from a glass each.”

I didn’t see a nurse bring any into the room but there on the locker was a full pitcher and by the look of the condensation, again starting to appear on the outside of the glass, it was recently chilled.

“Good idea,” Caterin agreed.

“This is very good for maintaining a healthy mind and body. It is produced from a selection of fruits that came with my species so long ago. A significant component has been carefully nurtured for many, many generations but is not to be found growing in the outside world. The rest of the fruits are commonly available and regularly consumed by everyone on the outside but do not have the same effect until combined properly and with the one we keep here, separated from the outside world.”

The Doctor did the honours and imbibing the cool juice provided a genuine feeling of relaxation. Whatever was in it certainly seemed to have the desired effect. My head cleared, the information just received nicely stowed itself away in my grey matter and I felt totally at ease.

“That’s correct Ian,” she said, “relax while I continue to come to the crux of why I am here and talking to you in this manner.”

“We, that is the leadership of our peoples, have developed a plan designed to save both our species from a future we believe to be catastrophic for all of us.”

“This is because our joint existence, your species and mine, is threatened by the alien presence that has been accumulating on this world for some years now. A presence that certain governments believe they have the ear of and will be protected by, when their true plans are revealed. We consider they are deluded and we fear for the worst.”

“I am the one chosen to execute and lead that plan to fruition and you Ian, by our good fortune at both finding you and discovering your potential, have been selected to play a significant role. I want you to accept this and give of your best, regardless of what you may have to face; you are after all, beholden to us for your life, are you not?”

“We know from your history that you have faced this kind of option on more than one occasion and you did not shirk from the duties imposed upon you then; we need you to take this approach once again.”

My life had been saved, I had to accept that and it made sense. My family were with me and they were safe, that was a great comfort. What was being explained to me fitted into place. I realised, however that I was being directed, gently pushed, possibly even coerced, along a narrowing path the ending of which was not being presented yet.

I was no longer the young man I was when those referred to duties had been placed upon me nor in the uniform I wore at the time. But I did feel in much better physical form than before I was ‘collected’.

I had an obligation, that was clear, but what was this ‘significant role’ I was about to be unable to say ‘No’ to? A pressure had now been applied that I should have anticipated perhaps. I could not disagree with a plan that I had no details of nor refuse the role in it that I may have been given. I had the feeling, however, that with the receipt of the good news, if that's what it was, I was now about to receive the worst; the sensation I felt deep in the pit of my stomach told me so. I had no choice, but would, what was required of me, be that onerous?

“That depends on how you view your task, Ian,” Caterin said, reading minds yet again

Of course she was reading minds, wasn't I, wasn't the Doctor? I had now realised that this had become almost natural and I had no need to concern myself, as I had previously, about whether or not I would adapt to or make proper use of it and so soon.

Caterin managed a half smile before continuing. “Let me explain a little more before I tell you what we wish you to do,” she said as a cold matter of fact.

The sinking feeling in my stomach was becoming worse.

“More fruit juice,” she suggested. She could pick up on my slightest thoughts or emotions. I just let the Doctor refill my glass as I now realised the other side of this mind reading coin.

“Stop panicking Ian.”

“At present this is new to you and there is much more that you will come to learn. You will not always be this susceptible, if that's what you might like to call it, nor will you be this loud in your use of your new talent. I don't really want to say that you are like a child with a new toy to play with, but I think you will understand where I'm coming from. Can we proceed?”

She wasn't chastising me or putting in my place, just explaining in a straightforward adult manner. I nodded.

“A little history first,” she started.

“We took refuge in this place when we first arrived those many thousands of years ago, because of its inaccessibility and because we could mine deep, down into the surrounding mountains, to create a hidden refuge.”

“This has been developed beyond recognition over time and has become a thriving, modern city concealed from even the most advanced of your technological detectors. A disadvantage, however, is that we could not build externally for risk of giving ourselves away and as a result you will see no large communications dishes or anything of that sort on the surrounding mountains.”

“For the short range that we needed to communicate to our craft while flying round this planet we have an entirely different means of communication based on the space displacement principal, that you so correctly identified in your book, except that we vibrate space for communication instead of making the large displacements we need to fly with. A similar system, piggy backed onto your web network, is used by our people scattered round the world to keep in contact with each other, and this base.”

I remained silent and listened attentively.

“For many generations we even toiled and pleasured ourselves in the sunny plain outside, mixing with some local people who came to this place and readily accepted us. That all finished many hundreds of years ago and it is now imperative that we stay completely hidden until we leave this planet.”

“We came close to disaster in the war you so well documented and we do not believe we could now survive another of the same; the odds are definitely against us. We have deliberately avoided being involved in any way with the continuation of wars between your various factions. We are aware that one, possibly another also, of those aliens embedded in your planet, got themselves involved with one the two warring sides in the last great conflict. We don't know why, but they were not on the 'winning' side, thank goodness.”

“I'm wandering off the purpose of this briefing, Ian,” she almost apologised. “You see I can almost be human like yourself.”

Then her brief smile rapidly disappeared.

“It is our plan to move on, without discovery if at all possible, to find another place, another planet, for us to live in peace and pass on our genetic material yet again where we can. As our cousins, Ian, those of your people who exhibit the genetic advancement that would be of mutual benefit and, of course, that we can accommodate, we wish to take with us.”

“That was the simple part, but now it becomes a little complicated.”

“Are you serious?” I asked as my head started to reel from a further flow of information. I felt certain that I was not up to this sort of intensity or pressure just yet.

“Doctor,” Caterin asked, “Would you say that Ian up to the stress of continuing, this really is important and I must push on? We do not have the time for dithering.”

I really could have done with simply getting back into bed and closing my eyes for an hour or two but these thoughts, bubbling just below the surface, I actually and strangely consciously managed to suppress instead. I had to go with the flow, be counted, be thankful, play my part, and just get on with it. Thoughts like that could be dangerous, perhaps, or was I over exaggerating.

“Ian,” the Doctor replied, “I’m sure you have had to take in much more than this over your lifetime, even when you have experienced a hangover from too much alcohol the night before; have you not?”

He was right, I was feeling only a little delicate compared to previous years but they were long ago when I was the young man that I am not now. Had he come to my rescue?

“But you are young again, Ian,” the Doctor went on.

Was he picking up on those thoughts that I believed I had suppressed, I hoped not.

There was no flicker of recognition on either the Doctor's or Caterin's faces. Perhaps I really was getting the hang of this mental thing, or were they so good at it themselves that they could suppress any acknowledgement of what was going on in my head, even though they had detected it, as a teacher may encourage a pupil at some critical point?

My thoughts were going in circles, I had to stop this whether they were picking up on it or not.

“We have been repairing you while you were asleep, not just kick starting some DNA. Now come on, pull yourself together and give it a try.”

This was the kind of plain speaking I could easily respond to. When I looked inside myself, there was a feeling, a strange feeling, of being somehow younger and fresher than I believed myself to be. I had not felt so good for such a long time; he was correct.

“Go for it,” I said, “I’m all ears and I will give this my best shot.”

Caterin explained that it had always been thought that there had been no survivors from their home world catastrophe and since their local communications systems did not have the strength to reach across the vastness of space to confirm one way or the other, this had to be the accepted thesis. No signals had ever been received from their home world and the subject of survivors had had to be buried until recently.

One of their kind had become a very talented scientist and as a young man in the outside world, had become, quite intentionally, part of the team involved in the building of the latest planetary robot explorer. He had managed to build-in to the ground communications platform, one of the Settler's local devices that regularly piggy backed onto the web and was unable to be detected by any normal means. He had concealed this amongst the mass of electronics he had personally designed and constructed to receive the signals back on Earth; nobody had the ability to challenge him or check his work.

Everything that was communicated between the Mars buggy and the Earth would not only carry the additional concealed signals but also be relayed to the safe haven undetected; this all went a little pear-shaped when the 'black-ops' team took over.

The Settlers had undertaken research over the preceding years as to how the previous great computer, believed destroyed in the catastrophe, may have functioned. As a long shot, they had assembled a software program that just might be able to communicate with the great computer system, if any of it still existed deep beneath the Martian surface.

This was with a view to possibly energising one of the ancient converted exploration ships that had been called during their period of use, the New Arks; they were now being referred to again but in a simplified form, as 'Arks'.

The central idea was to have an Ark function undetected, assuming it could still do so correctly after the millennia it had been left circling in orbit above their destroyed home world. The intention was for it to come to the Earth where the local craft here could take up enough technicians to make it fully functional, if this was required, and to operate under their direct control. If possible an intended exodus could then start with as much secrecy as possible.

Assuming all went well, it would then return to Mars, hopefully with the intended populous in board, to attempt contact with the descendants of any possible survivors who may have continued some sort of civilisation beneath the surface.

A brief glimpse of a face smiling into the camera carried by the buggy, despite the scrambling, although this had terminated unexpectedly, had confirmed the view that the descendants of survivors did indeed exist.

The black-ops may have thought that they had fresh control of the entire mission, denying any information flow beyond themselves or the inner circle for which they operated, but the piggy-backed technology had been sufficiently robust.

The race was on to locate and re-unite a common people, and their cousins, to leave what was about to become a very hostile place to be, the Earth. The home planet, Mars, had been a hostile place, for the survival of life, for such a long time but it was considered possible that it may be made much worse by whatever real plans the 'exploration' missions concealed.

Thankfully, there had been time for the program transmission to be effective, in its clandestine manner, with a returning acknowledgement signal received from whatever remained functioning of the ancient great computer. Any further communications that may have taken place, following the interruption of the visual system, were lost by whatever clampdown had been subsequently imposed by the 'black-ops' team.

A great exodus of the people now securely waiting here on Earth and those survivors on Mars was planned with the aim of re-uniting the disparate populations of a common ancestry to be followed immediately by leaving this system in search of a new ‘home’.

The stumbling block of the project that Caterin had been describing would almost certainly be the limited numbers that could be accommodated in one Ark or even both to leave this solar system. The ‘limited’ numbers were unknown and may turn out not to be a problem at all; only time and events would tell.

Many Settler scientists and historians had poured over the ancient history and believed they had discovered where a great craft, a ‘Mother Ship’, that had probably brought their civilisation to Mars from somewhere in the general direction of the Orion constellation, may be parked in, or just outside of, this solar system.

If one of the local Arks could be fully energised then perhaps it could travel to the outer edge of the solar system where, it was believed, the great but ancient mother craft might be located. It was also assumed that in this case it might not be that difficult to find.

I did not understand how this could be in the vastness of space but I was assured that if it was there, it should be relatively straightforward. The technology for cloaking craft, regularly used locally, was almost certainly incorporated in the Arks.

If this was indeed the case then searching without detection should not present any difficulties. Similarly, the ancient communications systems in employment locally on the Earth, it was hoped, would also be integral to the Arks and reduce the difficulties to perhaps an acceptable level.

Success in locating the ancient Mother Ship, assuming she still existed, was resting upon a heap of assumptions, but it was considered better to try than to do nothing at all.

“This is where you come in Ian,” Caterin looked at me with her inquisitive eyes directly staring into mine. “Your ability to use your mind to both transmit and receive thoughts is of a kind and intensity that may best be described as potentially a crystal clear beam of the greatest brightness; you are unique in this respect.”

“Here in this place, we have been accommodating your intensity which, as predicted, is increasing at an alarming rate each minute that it has been in operation.”

“I must ask you, however, to now make the conscious effort to keep it under control. Because for those times that you were in initial conversation with the Doctor, you did not realise, but it was as if you were shouting very loud. It has been increasing with each subsequent minute.”

I hadn't realised that. I was a learner again and there were many things I now had to learn and skills to master and quickly.

“During my stay with you, you may have achieved an element of control, but your ‘speech’ is becoming unbearably too loud even for me and I know that this will only go on increasing if you let it.”

“If we were to ask you to try for, shall we say full volume, as we will eventually, then you would likely cause us all great injury from the power we believe you can probably be able to bring to bear.”

I hadn't expected that.

“This full volume, carefully tuned and directed,” she explained, “is the key, when we arrive in orbit round our home planet, to locating the descendants of the survivors.”

“You will be the instrument for attempting to communicate, from the great height of the orbit and while we remain cloaked, to those others similarly gifted amongst the survivors' descendants, who hopefully, have retained a similar talent to ourselves. Our natural ability does not provide us with the strength to communicate across the great distances between our two planets and that is why until recently, we had no idea that there was any possibility of there being any descendants of the survivors of the great catastrophe.”

“The strength of communication you exhibit now, when developed further, practised and focussed, will be at its most useful when you are capable of directing it properly from the height of an orbiting Ark.”

“It is hoped and believed that your ability to receive may be as strong as your power of transmission; only time will tell.”

Far from expecting the 'bad news' to follow the good, I had heard something that filled me with excitement.

This project would be of the sort to be found in my old 'Eagle' comics and annuals. I was privileged, excited and starting to bubble inside, this was firing me up. I WAS a young man again, everything inside told me so; why the earlier trepidation?

“Steady Ian,” the Doctor interjected, “calm down a little, my head's hurting. I don't know about Caterin, but unless you get this under control quickly, and I'm sure that you can, we will have to leave you and come back later.”

“Concentrate on the volume of your words, just as if you were speaking the old way, try to maintain a sense of control and you will,” he added.

I was being excited by what I was being told and it made sense that I was indeed running away with my new found talent. I steadied myself and touched on something within my thoughts that almost presented itself, of its own accord. I found that I could hold on to this and it seemed to be the key to control. Something was working as looks of joyful relief came across both the Doctor's and Caterin's faces.

Caterin composed herself reverting back to the authoritarian presence she had displayed at the very start of this lecture, when she first entered the room.

“Think about this for a moment Ian. You wrote a series of stories and had them published in a book several months ago.”

“Your description of the new design of explorer buggy and the black-ops takeover had not occurred when you wrote down the words. You were not only tapping into the past but also looking into the future.”

“You did not realise exactly what you were doing, communicating naturally with the Universal Consciousness, when you wrote the words. This is why attempts were made on your life; you were publicly disclosing something of the utmost secrecy, concealed itself within a secret society, which was still in the planning stage.”

“We were incredibly thankful that you did not also pick up on, and write about, our clandestine communications work for the buggy; it had just been completed and was almost ready to go. If you had, we may not be having this conversation right now.”

“Perhaps your selective scenarios were being guided, who knows.”

That last statement struck home. I had indeed felt like that as the words had come fast and clear to me, as if receiving dictation. I had not written them down on paper, as I would normally after many years of ingrained practice, before approaching my PC to type them up.

I found that I had been driven to type complete sections of my book, directly from thoughts to fingers and not in chronological order, until I had to stop from exhaustion.

Caterin moved on, knowing that her words had had great significance for me. She was smiling now, only slightly, but a constant smile nonetheless.

“Receiving a simple clear acknowledgement from the great computer system filled us with great excitement. This was further enhanced by the simple data stream it also sent, that one of the Arks had responded satisfactorily. It was going to energise itself and we determined, would become operational to continue with its original task of so many thousands of years ago.”

“Our scientists had guessed correctly and the plan, of which we both now are a part, was put into operation.”

“But how was it that the data transmission was not spotted?” I queried.

“It was, we came to understand,” Caterin responded, “but since the information was encrypted in manner that might take many centuries to decipher, if at all and also because it functions, shall we say, in very compact bursts, it was seen more-or-less as transmission spikes or static and not considered too much further. Normally we do not rely on these electronic types of communication but in this case we were piggy backing onto a system current in your world. Our means and those of the aliens here as we have detected, use a spatial vibration mode of communication.”

“This is, coincidentally, why much of the communications between these aliens and their off world cohorts are not detected by your monitoring systems; they are looking in the wrong manner with what we consider as ancient technology.”

“You cannot be aware, also,” she continued, “that there was a small furore in astronomical circles a few weeks ago because one of the supposed satellites circling round our planet simply disappeared. This has not been disclosed for general consumption so far.”

“It tells us, however, that one of the Arks is now really on its way here and our preparations must pick up speed accordingly to be fully ready when the opportunities arise.”

“We anticipate its arrival, still cloaked, in about two weeks time from now; that’s all the time you have to finish practising, before the off.”

“Without going into detail, a technical crew including you, aboard a local craft, will travel to and enter into this Ark with a minimum of visible un-cloaking. We believe, or rather hope that this will go unnoticed here on Earth until it is too late.”

“Several alien craft, of which we are aware, have been circling Earth for many years now. I doubt you are aware of this as any news has always been officially suppressed and only appeared in what is described as UFO crank web sites on your internet system.”

“This is mainly because these craft are cloaked for the majority of their time in orbit and only un-cloak briefly for their local craft transfers.”

“We intend to do something similar, and expect not to be spotted until we are well advanced in our plans.”

“If it seems practicable, we will attempt to ferry all the occupants of this base up to the Ark in series of transfers, quickly enough to minimise detection. It will all hinge on what we find when we get aboard it when it comes close enough and the time we think we may have available.”

“It may be that all we can achieve initially is the boarding of an Ark with the team, to be followed immediately by passage to Mars. If we are spotted, then that is most certainly the plan we will have to adopt.”

“The project's primary plan is to travel to our ‘home’, with a full Ark or just the project team, as events dictate, to locate and make communication with the survivors we know must exist because of the buggy TV picture.”

“This is your part in the scheme, Ian, to make that initial contact in locating exactly where they are.”

“From that contact we will determine the best location to land our local craft and start the exodus of our people from their underground refuge to our Ark. We will become aware at this juncture of the possibilities of not only collecting all the survivors from our ‘home’ but also from here, if they are not already with us, of course.”

“There are a lot of unknowns in this plan which will only be resolved as events move forward. We cannot plan any better with the minimal information we have to hand, but the time for action is upon us.”

“Our future on this planet Earth is even more uncertain; our intelligence paints a bleak picture if we do not leave soon.”

“A further possibility is that a second Ark, the other satellite orbiting our planet, might also be brought into operation. This may be essential to cater for the total numbers of our, and your, people we wish to save; and 'save' is the key word now.”

“We believe, from the manner in which events have moved so far, that this second Ark is a distinct possibility and could be made ready to collect as many of the survivors and ourselves as we possibly can.”

“If not, then further decisions may have to be made. We are being optimistic but must be prepared for some disappointment.”

“As I have said, events as they unfold will dictate our course of action. Your arrival can only be described as serendipity; really most fortunate, providing the catalyst that has prompted us to take action sooner rather than later.”

“I have spoken at great length now, Ian, and you have not been distracted, have been most attentive and not flinched at your prospects, as precarious as they may be. Can I take it now that you are fully with us and will put yourself at risk in pursuing our aims?”

I sat silently.

I had guessed correctly that this question may eventually be put to me but now that it had, how could I possibly reply in the negative. After all that had been done for my family and myself against the global situation that I had almost predicted, and all that most certainly now needed to be achieved for survival, as had just been described to me in some detail, how could I say no.

If anything, there was an urge within me to say a very loud yes. The thought of being involved in such a great plan, being offered such a significant role, occurring at this relatively late stage in my life, repaired effectively to be a younger man again and up for adventure, how could I refuse.

With an enormous smile spreading across my face, a single word shot out from my lips, “Yes!”

I was forgetting myself and repeated it once again mentally, “Yes, definitely yes; yes, yes.”

I was buoyed up beyond belief, I had not felt like this for a long time and Caterin and the Doctor sensed my inner emotions immediately. Confirmatory smiles came to their faces and the Doctor nodded in the direction of Caterin.

I had made my decision without consulting Hazel, what choice did I have?

I was sat here in the presence of one of the most important people on the planet, Caterin the project leader, having the entire scheme put before me, being offered a significant part to play that no-one else would, or possibly could, fill. I was not expendable, nobody is, but finding a replacement might not be a practical possibility in the foreseeable future; time was of the essence and I realised it.

I had been prepared by the medical teams here only too well, I was another line on their planning chart but I had not been forced into any sort of acceptance, not yet. I didn't want to consider the possible consequences of refusing, but this was not even an option I wished to consider further. I knew instinctively what to do, where my heart directed me to go and that my mind was satisfied to be in total agreement; no more thought needed.

Caterin's and the Doctor's smiles only confirmed the feeling of warmth they were directing towards me by their level of mental ability. I was among genuine people, in a family of kin, I could sense that, and they were pleased that I accepted the role offered with the minimum of hesitation.

“As I have already said, I have spoken at length, but there is something more that I wish to add; a little more information that you should be fully aware of.”

Caterin's warm demeanour eased as she dropped back, not completely, into her briefing mode. She was now advising ‘family’ and I knew and felt it.

“You may remember some years ago,” she started, “that one of your early probes sent to our planet was also directed to look at one of the ‘satellite moons’. It promptly malfunctioned as it approached one but not before a shadow, of what we think was a local craft, was photographed.”

“If there are descendants of survivors on our planet who have access to and can fly one or maybe two local craft then we do not understand why they have been unable to enter one of these Arks and come towards Earth looking for us.”

“Alternatively if this was not one of their local craft, assuming that they had any in the first instance, then it must mean that the aliens contaminating this planet are also looking elsewhere and that prognosis is not at all welcoming news.”

“Phase two of this operation, assuming phase one goes well, whichever way it goes, is to take all we can of our own, including yourselves who are now with us, off this planet and those we can rescue from our ‘home’, to go looking for the great mother ship at the extremes of this system.”

“The detail is a bit past me but our scientists have concluded that there is a means that should be able to employ to locate it without too much difficulty; on the assumption, of course, that it still exists. If it does, and we must make that assumption, then it is our intention to leave this system behind for ever and travel the universe to wherever we can start a new life, build a new home, with a future devoid of the risk of slavery by maligned alien forms.”

Caterin looked in my direction and I didn't need to hear the question; I just nodded gently in full approval of what I was now hearing. The plan, as loose as it seemed but with a correct and justifiable aim, was unfolding fully before me.

Nothing I was listening to wanted me to reconsider anything, I was committed fully and wanted to get the wheels in motion as soon as possible.

“If we are unable to accommodate the total numbers of people involved or the mother ship cannot be located or no longer functions then the options are open ended. We will have to play it according to events as they unfold but a worst option, resulting in total destruction and the death of all concerned may be the final outcome.”

I nodded in a ‘keep going’ sort of manner; I was not being put off. Total failure ending in death could not be a deciding factor in acting or not; failure is failure with all that entails, whatever it may be, the planning had to consider success, nothing less.

Caterin continued.

“When the Arks have carried out their work and if we do need more capacity, they and the mother ship may have to return, or as close as is sensible, possibly using your Moon as a shield, to transfer all the outstanding numbers left on this planet.”

“Whatever course of action we have to follow, and a lot of the planning is speculative at present, it is our firm intention to leave this solar system to seek other places to live, as probably, our ancestors once did so long ago.”

“There is an ancient proverb . . . ,” she started.

“. . . that we are a race destined to be hunted,” I interrupted, “. . . for eternity and that every many thousand years we will again be put to the test.”

Her eyes now brightened and for a short moment a really large smile spread across her face as she once again looked deep into my eyes. Was she finding now what she had sought before?

“If we don’t move now,” she said changing to a very serious tone but with the sparkle still within her eyes, “the hunted may very well become the next meal for the hunter. Enough talking, let’s have some action.”

Her eyes disengaged mine.

“You're on-message now, old son,” passed through my thoughts.

With that Caterin turned to once again stare deeply into my eyes, our faces almost touching. There was no warmth there as before, just a steely penetrating stare that was still seeking something else. I felt her probing inside my thoughts, firm but gently going where she wanted. I didn't feel violated or upset and simply succumbed to her seniority to do as she pleased with me. She was in charge of this project and I had better get used to it.

“I do know you are on-message now, Ian. I have also seen for myself that you truly are a cousin of ours and will give yourself, if the moment arrives, for the sake of the 'family'. This pleases me greatly.”

What if she had not found what she was looking for, what then?

For a moment I was allowed into her thoughts to see the answer. I was not distressed by a moment's hesitation of what I half expected to find, the worst, but pleasantly surprised by the brief experience granted to me and by the warmth that resided there.

The steeliness seen in her eyes, several times now was also there; I sensed it but was not allowed to enter that domain. She was heading up this project, there had to be a hard side to her, and much more besides which I had not even glimpsed yet.

I had been allowed a rare glimpse inside, given a privilege, but a genuine action nonetheless. I had been welcomed in a most personal and intimate manner, I had enjoyed the experience and truly knew that I was a part of a great family. My emotions soared at the wonderful feeling coursing through me. I was a very young man again, experiencing many birthdays at once.

All I could do was let out, mentally this time, a loud undefined yell of satisfaction.

“You are shouting again Ian and it is becoming louder with the passage of time and, I assure you that it really does hurt. Try to control how you use your new found talent, don't temper your emotions but just learn to adjust the volume control.”

She smiled again at these last words. I was becoming truly one 'on the inside' and it was most pleasant; Caterin was making it so.

She continued once again.

“Prepare yourself for what lies ahead, practice, practice and more practice please. I look forward to seeing you in full control and a significant member of our team. The very existence of our greater family is going to depend on it.”

The smile and warmth dropped, the steely presence returned, she was back to her role in an instance.

“And please, please, stop shouting, I keep repeating myself, it hurts,” she let me know yet again, quietly and emphatically this time, but in almost a whisper and with more than the merest of warmth in her eyes.

I got the message; Teacher was having a gentle word, no more, with her exuberant pupil.

At that she rose to her feet, we all did the same sharply, from respect, and she strode straight out of the door that opened before she reached it. She did not look back, nor see the Doctor who was following close behind.

I could not be at all hesitant now, my future and those of our peoples depended upon the part I had been given to play; a key role in an operation of the utmost importance for two great races of people, the Settlers and ourselves. This started to weigh heavily and the nervous sensation, that accompanies the trepidation before a risky enterprise, came upon me from those distant times past.

“More fruit juice please.”

I needed more fruit juice, my mouth was dry and my stomach felt such dreaded emptiness again.

I could feel a sense of fear creeping into my soul combined with that old bedfellow of adrenalin-fuelled excitement at the prospect of what lay ahead.

I was on the cusp of a great adventure that might be truly successful or simply end in a disastrous failure with a lot of innocent deaths, including mine.

Were the chances of success as high as simply stated by Caterin?

Was my new found talent as significant as I was being told and was I to really play such a major part in the operation?

I was starting to relive the excitement of my military days many years ago. I was bouncing, the mouth was increasingly dry, but the empty stomach sensation and the sheer nervousness were being pushed aside as they were replaced by the sheer positivity of what was required.

I was on-message all right, a new high was building up inside, bring it on, whatever. The giddiness grew within me and I didn’t, or couldn’t, stop it rising.

I punched the air with a loud, “Yes, I’m your man, come on let's do it, bring it on, bring it on.”

I had no idea what I was saying, the words came pouring out uncontrolled and my emotions were out of the window. I was elated and losing my sense of control and even though I knew it, I couldn’t, nor did I want to, stop myself.

“Yes, Yes, I’m here, let’s do it, now,” I shouted again at the top of my voice, or whatever I was shouting with.

Caterin had asked me to be a lot more in control and quieter, but I was here on my own, who was I disturbing? I was just not thinking but being carried away in a supreme sense of elation and I didn't care for the moment.

I felt a crescendo being reached within my mind and I went along with it. The sensation was intense but pleasurably so, much greater than anything my memory told me that I had experienced before. Was this the result of the modifications that Caterin and the Doctor had described? I wasn't bothered to think any more on it; sensible thoughts had left me, I was on a high.

The volume and quality of my thoughts increased in a beautiful, intensely so but most pleasurable, scintillating hyperbola of incredible clarity. Then I felt myself sinking into an all-embracing, welcoming soft warmth that I was unable and unwilling to resist. As the beauty of this sinking sensation entrapped me willingly, everything went gently, smoothly and completely blank.

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