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Chuckling, I step back into the elevator—without Meredith. “C’mon, big guy. Let’s go clean out the engine room.”
My intention is clear... and the elevator this time heads down.
Chapter Twenty-five
A Strange Case Closed
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the two Xiphos aliens on the lowest level surrendered without a fight.
Kingsley thinks I’m too nice. Still, despite that these guys were working on collecting forty humans to take them to another planet to effectively be tortured for as long as they could endure lab experiments, I don’t have it in me to execute-slash-murder people (or aliens) who surrender.
Xaan puts them next to the other two in the same tanks they kept us in, then explains he’ll take them back to their homeworld. The four aggressive Xiphos will probably spend the rest of their considerably long lives living among the peace-faring Xyphas. Apparently, if their kin ever learned that those in the engine room had surrendered, they would be executed in an exceptionally painful manner.
Since we have complete control over the ship and there is no further need to stay on high alert, I take the opportunity to put my clothes back on and make sure my phone still works. It does. Awesome. But, alas, still no service.
Xaan goes on to explain that their homeworld is similar to Earth—if our population consisted of only two nations. It isn’t their native planet; they colonized it about 7,400 years ago. Xiphos and Xyphas had formerly been the same people, but thousands of years of climate and cultural differences resulted in physiological changes and two identifiably different species.
Oh, Xaan also explains the zappy thing the Xiphos bridge crew used on me was supposed to knock me out—by pausing all biological activity on a cellular level. When it didn’t work on me, the aliens panicked in much the same way as a human might if they shot a charging lion with the biggest hand cannon money could buy and the bullet bounced off.
He asks me why it didn’t work on me, and how I—and Kingsley—shrugged off the anesthetic. Okay, fine. I may as well explain it to him now. Wait. He said concepts are more efficient than thoughts. After asking him tonotbroadcast our conversation to the others, I have him dip inside my head while I think about my crazy life thus far. His eyes do that thing again where they change from round with a hint of being almond-shaped to complete circles.
That is most peculiar, Samantha. We have not encountered such anomalies before among your species. Perhaps you would allow my people to study you at some future date?
I point at him. “Possibly. But no kidnapping.”
Of course.
“Also, it’s basically magic. It’s outside science.” I shrug. “Hard to explain.”
Fair enough. Thank you once again for my freedom. Please allow me to apologize on behalf of my cousins for the disruption to your lives. It is a violation of our ways to remove spec—subj—humans from their native environment.
“All right. And thanks for the effort to call us humans.” I smile. “Have a safe trip.”
I shall endeavor to do so.
With that, we—meaning Kingsley, myself, and the human survivors—enter the elevator chamber. It takes a bit of convincing to get Velma to leave the plasma gun on the ship. Can’t really let alien technology—especially something so destructive—loose on Earth. It’s difficult enough to get a permit to own a firearm in California. The government would lose its damn mind over plasma weapons.
I think about leaving the ship and wave my hand at the control spot. The elevator goes down past the bottom hull. When the doors open, we’re greeted by fresh air and a small ramp extending to the ground.
As soon as the last person is off the ramp, the metal slab retracts into the bottom of the cylindrical chamber, which then retracts up into the ship, leaving a flat, seamless hull. I just told Xaan that ‘magic doesn’t science,’ but metal isn’t supposed to behave this way, either. It looks more like a solid hull reshaped itself than a movable cylinder extended down and went back up. Hmm. Guess it’s true what they say. Sufficiently advanced science seems like magic to anyone who doesn’t understand it.
Of course, I stand by my earlier statement. No amount of science is going to explain me having angel wings or Kingsley turning into a giant wolf.
Gemma wraps her arms around Carson. “Can we please pretend this didn’t happen?”
“Yeah.” Carson rubs a hand up and down her back. Nothing like an alien abduction to bring two people together. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”
“Sam said we should all act like we woke up in the woods and don’t remember what happened to us.” Meredith absentmindedly buttons her flannel shirt.
The others all agree to this plan. It’s a bit sketchy for all of them to ‘wake up’ in a group in the same place at the same time. Only alternative I can think of is maybe teleporting them around to different places and asking them to lay low, revealing themselves days from now one after the next. But, no. That’s far too much coordination and effort to generate needless confusion. The truth is already wild. I’m sure the conspiracy theory nuts will be all over this. Some will no doubt correctly assume alien involvement.
Wow. Those wingnuts might’ve been right all along. Who’d have thought?
Since Carson’s cabin is a rather short walk from here—and it’s currently a little past midnight—we hike in a group there. Carson readily offers to let everyone spend the night. Once he sees his Jeep sitting there intact, he also offers to give everyone a ride back to civilization in the morning. He and Gemma are quite done with their weekend away. Meredith is upset because she wants to call her family and can’t. There is no cellular reception out here, nor does she still have her phone. We couldn’t find it in any of the storage bins, nor any of her clothes. At this, she bashfully admits that she ‘might have been’ skinny dipping in a creek with her boyfriend when the aliens got them.
Carson and Gemma both had their phones on them when they were taken, but the devices are missing. Evidently, the aliens objected to human technology. Did they think their kidnap victims would try to call the police or something? Heh.
Anyway, we’re all in a communication blackout until tomorrow. While the group mills about uncomfortably, yet totally relieved, I step over to Carson and Gemma. “You’ve seen aliens. If you can tolerate a bit more unexplainable stuff, I can have Shane back here in a few minutes,” I say. “If you don’t mind me waking him up. I’m sure he’s asleep by now.”
