Alien Affairs
Chapter 22

She sent an email to Jan’s address at the office: “Going to meet Deshler. Please advise the director.” Then she packed an overnight bag and booked a first class seat on the next commercial flight to Albuquerque. Before leaving for the airport she powered-off her phone.

After having gotten used to flying on private planes, the torture of clearing security and elbowing the crowd irritated her to the point of snappishness. The first class passengers received a little better treatment, but after watching her bag being searched and having her hairspray confiscated, she said, “What’s the point now that we’re the last generation?”

The TSA inspector shook her head and said, “Still gots to collect dat paycheck, honey.”

Albuquerque was clear and cold in the middle of the afternoon. She rented a car and added a navigation system after learning how to use it with longitude and latitude coordinates. Before leaving Albuquerque she made an unusual purchase.

It took three hours to drive to Roswell through some of the most desolate terrain Carrie had ever seen. She was disappointed to find that the UFO Museum had already closed for the day and the hotel options were all pretty seedy. After checking into one in the heart of town, she went looking for a meal. She managed to locate a decent hamburger with fries and chased it with a couple of Coors on tap. Looking around the place she decided that it had to have been there in 1947 and it had not changed much.

The waiter was also the cook and the bartender. When he brought the check, he asked, “Where you from?”

“DC”

“Yeah, you work for the government?”

“I do in fact.” Carrie began to wonder how much she should say.

The man said, “My guess is you’re here because of the UFO’s.”

Now Carrie felt defensive. “Why do you say that?”

“In the light of what’s going on, why else would a government agent come to the UFO capital of the world?”

“I’m not an agent, I’m just a bureaucrat.”

“Lady, you don’t look like a bureaucrat.”

“How does a bureaucrat look?”

“Frumpy.”

“Oh, well, thanks, I think.”

“I’m Bill, by the way,” he extended his hand.

Carrie shook it and noticed it was strong but not calloused. “I’m Carrie. Do you pigeonhole all the customers?”

Bill smiled. Carrie thought it was a particularly engaging smile. “Pigeonhole is not a very nice word,” he said. “I was simply wondering about a rather intriguing looking woman, obviously not from around here, who looks like she’s on a mission.”

“You got me, Bill. I’m here on a fact finding mission to the UFO Museum.” She wondered where she had managed to find that lie.

“Isn’t that a bit like locking the barn after the horse is gone?”

“You know the government. There has to be a report made on everything.”

“It’s a little hard to believe that the government doesn’t have more information than our little museum. Want another beer—on the house?”

“Why not?”

Bill returned with two beers and helped himself to the chair opposite Carrie’s. “I see that you don’t wear a wedding ring,” he said.

“Are you hitting on me?” Carrie hid her smile by taking a sip of beer.

“I wouldn’t use a term like ‘hitting’ any more than ‘pigeonhole’.”

“I’m divorced.”

“Me too. There’s a lot of that going around. Got any kids?”

“I have a daughter.” She felt a sudden pang of pensiveness.

“I guess that’s a question people are going to stop asking,” he said. “What’s the government going to do to keep us from dying out?”

“The Center for Disease Control and the World Health Organization are working on ways to reverse the damage that the virus did to our reproductive systems.”

“I got a couple of grandkids and I sure as hell don’t want them to be the end of the line.”

“We are also trying to locate the secondary doses to prevent another infection in two years.”

“’We?’ So you’re in on it?”

“Since you seemed determined to ply me with liquor until I let something slip, I am a linguist for the CIA.” Bill’s eyebrows raised and Carrie said, “Now I have to kill you.”

“Well, if it’s going to be my last night on earth, at least I’m spending it in lovely company.”

Carrie remained silent for a moment contemplating the man across the table and thinking about her recent past not to mention the event that was due to transpire less than twelve hours in the future. “What time are you going to close this place, Bill?” she asked after reaching the conclusion that this could possibly be her last day on earth.

“I’ll close it right now if you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

“I don’t mind waiting here if you’re expecting more customers.”

“Roswell will do just fine without my little establishment for one night.” He went to the kitchen and Carrie heard pans rattling before it went dark. Bill returned to the table in a denim jacket and helped Carrie with her trench coat. “There, now you look the part of a spy,” he said and held the door for her.

Carrie said, “Your place or mine?”

“Your place got anything to drink?”

“No, I’ll follow you.”

Carrie didn’t dare let herself fall asleep, but Bill had no similar commitments. He lay snoring softly while Carrie slipped from his bed and began to dress. She tiptoed into the bathroom to brush her hair. In the mirror she looked into her own light brown eyes, she saw her mother, her father, she saw her daughter and she saw the end of the line. When she stepped back into the bedroom, he said, “Why you leaving, darling?”

“I’ve got an early meeting.”

“The museum doesn’t open ’til nine.”

“It was very nice, so don’t try to get me to say something that will make me really have to kill you.”

He laughed. “It was nice. You going to be around tomorrow?”

“Bill, the truth is, I don’t have any idea where I will be tomorrow.” She kissed him and said, “I’ll let myself out.”

The icy air hit her in the face and the car seat was freezing. The dashboard clock told her it was just after two. With the two-hour time difference from Washington she reckoned her rendezvous was at four. The GPS unit indicated that the exact location of the coordinates was several miles west of town but only twenty minutes away, so she drove to the motel and collected her bag and her unusual purchase. She paused to redo her makeup and checked her hair—wanting to look her best for Deshler. Then she left the key on the nightstand and departed wondering what exactly she was on her way to do.

The county roads outside of Roswell were dark and empty beneath a heavy overcast. Her upper beams revealed the flat landscape of sagebrush with occasional mesquite. The green dot on the GPS display followed a red line getting ever closer to the blue circle at exactly 33.4112175 degrees north, 104.6008534 degrees west. She stopped the car and examined the digital map closely. Naturally the target was not sitting on the road and it appeared that she had passed it, so she executed a U-turn and drove slowly keeping one eye on the side of the road and one on the little monitor. It was then half past three and she felt nervous about the possibility of having to hike to the rendezvous point in heels. While berating herself for lousy planning, she spotted a dirt road and turned onto it. It was deeply rutted but hard packed and the brush cleared well back from the margins. The road might have been surveyed with a chalk line. It was straight, flat, and empty as far as she could see in the headlights. After two miles the dot representing the car looked to be adjacent to the blue circle indicating the destination. She put the transmission in park and killed the lights. It was three forty-five.

With the heater fan on high she opened the driver’s window and looked at the sky. Carrie could remember no fifteen minutes in her life ever passing so slowly. Finally, breaking through the low hanging clouds, the saucer materialized huge and glowing. It came to earth rather majestically she thought as she opened the door and stood by the car with her heart pounding. She did not know why it was harder to walk toward it now than it had been on Bikini Island. Perhaps the absence of a dozen human beings standing behind her was part of the problem. Perhaps she was heading toward something that would forever change her life or end it. Tucking her purchase inside her coat, she started across the field.

The hatch opened in the rim of the disc. It remained empty as she took hesitant steps toward the massive ship. Unexpectedly a white floodlight illuminated above the rectangle of yellow light and an alien shape stepped from silhouette into the bright area.

“Come, Carrie Player. I have longed for this day.”

“Come, Deshler, is that really you?”

“None other. Do you not know me by the size of my heart?”

“I did not think this would really happen.”

“I could not simply leave without knowing you.”

“I am glad of that, but what are we here for?” she asked uneasily.

“You have come to intrigue me, Carrie Player. You are a credit to your species. I esteem you greatly.”

“And I you, Deshler. I have become strangely attached to the one who has destroyed my kind.”

“Well, as you said to Onath, ‘somebody had to do it’.”

“We have still not arrived at that level of acceptance. How did you know I would come here in secret?”

“You have been an honorable adversary. I knew you would not betray me.”

“I admit I had concerns that you would abduct me.”

“An interesting temptation, but alas I only want to present you with a parting gift.” Carrie hadn’t noticed what he had in his spidery four fingers. He offered it to her. “It is my reading device and it is dedicated specifically to you by me.”

“Thank you, Deshler, I shall treasure it always.”

“With it you may learn secrets of the universe and your world as well. Please study closely my personal message to you.”

“I also have a gift for you, Deshler.” She opened her coat and handed the alien something small and furry.

He accepted it and the little dog began to whine. “What is this, Carrie Player?”

“It is a puppy. I am sure you will love her.”

“How do I care for it?”

“She can eat protein and starch. She will adapt to your diet. Teach her to eliminate on a disposable surface.”

“Very thoughtful, thank you. I shall call her Carrie. And now I must say farewell, Carrie Player. How I wish we could have been the same species.”

“I would have liked that, Deshler. Take care and farewell. Wait—” She stepped forward and put her arms around his spindly back. He returned the hug.

Deshler turned and vanished into the ship. It hovered for a moment before it shot through the clouds and was gone. She felt very alone in the universe. Carrie focused on the object in her hands. In the blackness she could not see the display but in her mind she heard, “For the most noble human, Carrie Player, a gift within a gift.” And then she heard it tell her three pairs of numbers in base ten. She felt queasy and with blood throbbing in her temples the understanding dawned of what Deshler had given her.

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