Ben Archer

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Ben Archer Page 40

by Rae Knightly


  ***

  Victor Hayward considered his options while he brushed his teeth. As he pushed out the toothpaste, he considered the pros and cons of delivering the subject to the American military. Or, he could start a bidding war between major world powers. It would pay off a good deal of his debts. If only he had been able to make the alien talk, things would have been so much easier, but that alternative was fading fast.

  The important thing was to keep the Canadians out of it. They had, after all, stolen the spaceships off his land, claiming it was “federal property.”

  “Federal property,” he snorted with a mouth full of bubbles.

  “What, sweetheart?” his wife called from the bedroom.

  He spat into the sink. “Nothing, dear. I’m talking to myself.”

  He got back to brushing his teeth, mulling over the idea, but he didn’t like it. The extraterrestrial was his. He had caught the alien. Not the CSIS, not MI6, not the KGB. Not any of those secret services, but he, Victor Hayward–because he was the one who had discovered the alien lying among the debris of the crash.

  Hayward quickly dismissed the uncomfortable memory of his first contact with the being. He had approached it, thinking it dead. But when the alien had moved its head, Hayward had shrieked and run for his life. Not one of his finest moments, he had to admit.

  Fortunately, the alien’s facial traits had been burned into his mind–enough for him to send out a quiet face recognition search among his Victory Air crew across the globe, with the positive outcome.

  For goodness sake! This creature had been travelling the world doing God-knows-what since its arrival. If not for Hayward, it would most likely still be going about its business with complete impunity.

  He filled his cheeks with water and pressed on his phone to pull up the security screens of his underground laboratory, his toothbrush still in his hand.

  That’s when he saw the boy.

  He gagged on the water in his mouth.

  “Are you ok, sweetheart?” his wife called while he coughed raucously into the sink.

  He rushed into the bedroom–toothpaste stuck to the side of his mouth–and jumped into a pair of trousers and shirt.

  “Sweetheart?”

  He left his startled wife, grabbed his phone and jacket and practically flew down the stairs of his mansion. He swung open the front door, struggled to put on his coat, then dialled a number on the phone while sprinting towards his limousine.

  When he knocked loudly on the windowpane, his chauffeur–who was fast asleep in the driver’s seat–jumped so hard Hayward thought he was going to have a heart attack. The man scrambled to catch the hat that slipped off his head, then clumsily extracted himself from the vehicle.

  Hayward’s cellphone was stuck to his ear, ringing on the other end. He heard a click as his assistant picked up.

  “A boy! There’s a boy in the room with the alien!” Hayward screamed into the receiver.

  He grabbed the chauffeur’s car keys and pushed him aside. “Move over!” he yelled, plunging into the car, then turned on the ignition and screeched away into the night.

  ***

  Forgetting his own safety, Ben rushed to the hospital bed and found the alien extended on it. Mesmo’s cheekbones protruded through his grey skin. Gone was his friend’s rock solid frame.

  Ben held back a cry.

  He looks deathly!

  The alien turned his sunken eyes to him and managed a small smile. “Benjamin,” he whispered, opening his hand. The watch with the spirit portal rested in his palm.

  “It worked!” Ben gasped, though he had to muster up the courage to speak.

  Has Mesmo been in this state all this time?

  Could Mesmo make his spirit appear healthy and strong, while in fact, his physical body ailed? Ben didn’t dare think of the answer.

  “I’m here now,” he said encouragingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out. I just need to figure out where we are.”

  A phone rang outside the room. Ben heard the man’s voice who answered it turn to alarm. There was a thump and the sound of running feet.

  “Go!” Mesmo urged. “You are a spirit. You can go anywhere, as long as you stay in the vicinity of the portal.”

  Ben nodded, his eyes wide. “Hang in there, Mesmo,” he begged.

  He turned, closed his eyes and headed straight for the wall. When he opened them again, he was standing in the corridor once more, the two men staring at him from the lab door, mouths agape.

  “Get him!” one of them yelled.

  Ben turned and sprinted down the corridor, the men’s heavy shoes thudding behind him. He headed for a door with a red EXIT sign on top of it, raised his arm and plunged, expecting to crash straight into it. Instead, he landed on the other side, unharmed.

  Sooo cool! ...I think?

  He hiccupped in nervous excitement. He could have sworn his spirit body was covered in goosebumps at the idea that he was passing through physical objects. But there was no time to analyze the idea.

  The men pushed against the emergency exit door behind him.

  Ben clambered up several flights of stairs–his pursuers huffing loudly behind him–until he found a sign that said 1ST FLOOR.

  Charging head first through the door like a bull, Ben suddenly found himself in an enormous reception area. The massive, red symbol of Victory Air ornamented the back wall. A night guard stood behind a reception desk, talking to a group of police officers who wore jackets with the letters CSIS on the back. In their midst, stood Bordock.

  Ben froze.

  The two men burst through the emergency exit behind him.

  All groups faced each other, their eyes wide.

  Ben didn’t wait for them to come to their senses. He dashed over the marble floor–the hall erupting with warning shouts around him–and slipped through the main doors to the outside world. Taking refuge behind a column at the foot of an extended flight of stairs, he shut his eyes tight.

  Take me back, Mesmo! Take me back!

  Panic engulfed him as threatening voices neared his futile hiding spot.

  There was a whoosh of air, and the ground beneath him fell. His spirit connected to his body with a bang. He yelled as if someone had just hit him with a hammer.

  “Ben?” Laura’s shrill voice called him in the dark.

  The bed light came on, and Ben found himself sitting upright, gasping for breath.

  “Ben! What is it?” Laura cried.

  He cast a distressed look her way and burst, “We have to get Mesmo out, NOW!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Deliverance

  Laura ran into the middle of the road to hail a passing taxi cab. The driver barely had time to hit the brakes, the bumper ending so close to her that its headlights illuminated dust rising in front of her jacket.

  She gestured for Ben to get into the car, and soon they were racing down Toronto streets towards the Victory Air headquarters.

  It didn’t take long for them to get there, and as they neared the building, the red and blue lights of half a dozen police cars became visible from afar.

  “Stop here!” Laura ordered the taxi driver. She threw several dollar bills at him and clambered out after Ben. They both hurried closer to the scene of the tumult.

  “What should we do?” Ben asked worriedly.

  “We’ll have to find another way in,” she said. “Maybe through that service street there.”

  “No, wait!” Ben held her back. “I have a better idea.”

  ***

  Victor Hayward’s phone kept on ringing. He had no intention of answering, his eyes were glued to the road before him as he sped into town way over the speed limit. But the phone rang again, and when he glanced at it, he realized it was his assistant. He picked it up at the risk of ending in a ditch.

  “What?”

  “Boss, the police is here.”

  “The what?” he bellowed.

  His assistant’s voice wavered. “Yes, Boss. The CSIS is here with a
warrant to search the building. They say they are searching for proof that we knew our oil extraction fields were depleted.”

  Hayward snorted into the phone. “Yeah, right! Bunch of liars. They know we have the ‘package.’ Resort to Plan B. I want the ‘package’ removed at once. You have two minutes. Do you understand?”

  His assistant sounded distant and nervous. “Yes, Boss. Removing ‘package’ at once.”

  ***

  Ben decided he wasn’t enjoying this spirit travelling much. He’d much rather soar on a bird’s wings or dive into the deep on the back of a whale, but right now he had no choice.

  He wasn’t sure where he would end up, or even if Mesmo was up to the task of connecting with him, but as soon as he focused on the alien, his spirit jolted out of his body and materialized in an underground parking.

  Hearing voices, Ben hid behind a car and watched as Mesmo was rolled on the hospital bed into a waiting ambulance. They caught sight of each other for the briefest instance before the ambulance doors were shut on him.

  Pursing his lips, Ben noticed the ramp that the vehicle would use to escape–and he instantly knew what he needed to do.

  ***

  The limo screeched to a stop. Victor Hayward exited the vehicle and ran up his meticulous stairs to the entrance of his headquarters. He pulled the doors wide open, making sure his voice boomed into the reception. “What’s going on here?”

  His short legs took him swiftly to the dozen-or-so police officers who were assembled under the red symbol of his company.

  A man detached himself from the group. He was not wearing the CSIS vest like the others, but a neat, light-grey suit that Hayward would have approved of in other circumstances. A sense of authority hung around the agent, perhaps because the lights reflected on his shaved head, or maybe it was because of his emotionless green eyes. Either way, Hayward knew instinctively that he had to tread with care–he recognized a person with his level of intellect when he saw one.

  “Mr. Hayward?” the bald man said, showing him a piece of identification. “I’m Agent Theodore Connelly, with the National Aerial Division of the Canadian Security Intelligence Service. We have a search warrant for the premises.”

  “Naturally,” Hayward growled icily, noting that Mister Bigshot here wasn’t even hiding which department he was working for. He can wipe his nose on his search warrant for all I care–as long as he doesn’t find the alien…

  “Mr. Hayward, I need to talk to you privately,” the agent said.

  Whatever keeps them busy, Hayward thought. Out loud, he said, “Follow me.”

  Agent Connelly gestured for his men to spread out and Hayward noted with satisfaction that they were heading to the elevators, which–he knew–did not go down to his secret, underground laboratory. Only one separate elevator did that–and he had the key.

  Both men entered the room that the receptionists used to work in when they weren’t out front.

  Hayward leant against a desk and crossed his arms. “Well? Let’s have it. What’s this all about?”

  Connelly finished closing the office door, and when he faced Hayward, he wasn’t smiling. The agent’s eyes bored into him. “Mr. Hayward,” Connelly said in a low, threatening voice. “You have exactly two minutes to deliver the alien to me.”

  Hayward’s arms dropped, as did his mouth. “Wha…?” But his voice caught in his throat because something entirely abnormal was happening to Connelly’s face.

  ***

  Ben raced up the ramp of the underground parking area. Far below him, the ambulance roared to life. He ignored the closed garage door and dashed through it, finding himself in a dark service street close to where Laura and his physical self were located.

  It took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for.

  “Please let this work, please, please, please,” he begged to himself, as tires squealed up the ramp of the garage door behind him.

  Ben hid beside it and waited.

  ***

  Connelly called for reinforcements as he headed for a separate elevator located not far from the receptionist’s office. It was locked with a security system.

  Unfazed, Connelly pulled out the security card Hayward had given him willingly only moments ago as he begged for his life, and scanned it. The elevator door opened and soon Connelly was heading down to the level indicated by Hayward.

  The shapeshifter glanced left-and-right at the corridor that appeared before him. He headed to the right, finding an open door at the end which led to some kind of laboratory.

  His sharp ears caught the sound of distant, screeching tires. He tensed, then doubled back and searched for the source of the noise.

  ***

  The garage door lifted slowly, the driver of the ambulance pressing on the gas pedal impatiently, making the motor roar.

  The door had barely raised sufficiently when the vehicle lurched forward into the service street, which was closed at one end. It turned left with the intention of joining city traffic.

  Only, a young boy stood right in its path.

  The driver swerved so hard that the ambulance swayed and collided into a fire hydrant located at the exit. The jet of water that was released upon impact was so powerful that it enveloped the ambulance under a swirling waterfall.

  Ben watched expectantly.

  It didn’t take long. The flow slowed and hardened, turning to ice. It crackled and gleamed under the street lights, its churning form caught in time.

  Ben heard shouts coming from inside the ambulance. The driver struggled with the door, which resisted under the weight of the ice. It finally gave way with a loud crunch, allowing him to make his escape.

  But Ben had stopped watching. He closed his eyes and returned to his physical body with a jolt.

  “Ben!” Laura called from far away. He groaned at the force with which his spirit reconnected to his body.

  “Get up! Hurry!” Laura half lifted, half dragged him to a standing position.

  He became aware of a grating sound. He focused his eyes and ears and found the back doors of the ambulance opening with difficulty, scraping at the ice that surrounded it. Four men, who shouted frantically to each other, spilled out and scampered away, while water continued to flow from the fire hydrant, flooding the street.

  Laura and Ben approached the opening at the back of the ambulance. Just then, the shadow of a man appeared, making them gasp. The man stepped into the light. His white hair was disheveled, the tone of his skin light-grey.

  “Mesmo!” Ben cried with relief.

  The alien slumped against the side of the ambulance.

  Laura and Ben reached out to him in a hurry. He made to step down, but his legs gave way, and he fell with his full weight on them. They almost toppled over but managed to hold on to him just long enough for him to regain his balance. Laura swung one of his arms over her shoulders, Ben hurriedly trying to do the same, but the alien’s height meant he wasn’t much help. Still, shifting his weight between them, Mesmo managed to hunker forward, groaning painfully.

  The three of them hugged the shadows and made their escape.

  ***

  Connelly sprinted up the garage ramp, anxious to discover the origin of the racket outside. He found the ambulance wrapped up in a small iceberg at the end of the service alley, with water flooding the main street.

  The shapeshifter rushed to the vehicle’s back doors and peered inside. It was empty. He balled his fists and hit the floor of the vehicle so hard it left a dent. His body shook with fury. His eyes switched colour as he struggled to keep Connelly’s appearance under the weight of his anger.

  Running footsteps approached behind him, and it took all of his willpower to contain himself. If he turned around now, he would explode.

  “What’s going on? Is anyone hurt?” a man asked, bumping into him as he tried to glimpse over Connelly’s shoulder into the ambulance.

  The shapeshifter shut his eyes tight.

  Some more men arrived. “Agent
Connelly? What are your orders?”

  Connelly inhaled deeply through his nostrils. He opened his green eyes slowly and was about to respond when he noticed an object at the base of the hospital bed which lay overturned on the floor of the ambulance. He reached for the object and his hand closed on a silver watch.

  At first, Connelly couldn’t believe his luck, but the way the tiny diamond shone in its centre was unmistakable.

  “Agent Connelly?”

  Police sirens whirled to a stop behind him, and more people gathered around the ambulance.

  Connelly clasped the watch tightly and smirked.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Arrest

  Laura and Ben shoved Mesmo into a doorway just in time to avoid the headlights of a passing police car.

  Ben peeked out of their hiding place to make sure it didn’t turn back, then let out his breath as the swirling lights faded away.

  “Let’s go!” he urged, glancing at his mother and the alien. His mouth fell open.

  Wait a minute! Are they kissing?

  Had he just caught Mesmo and Laura in an embrace? He couldn’t be sure, because his mother pulled back with an incredulous look on her face.

  “Hey! Time to go!” Ben tugged at his mother’s arm.

  She blinked at him, then placed Mesmo’s arm around her shoulder again. “Come on. Bob’s condo is just a block away.”

  They stepped onto the sidewalk, but Mesmo dropped to his knees, almost dragging her down with him. “No!” he gasped. “Outside. Water.”

  Ben exchanged a worried look with his mother. His mind whirled. “Let’s take him to the park! It’s not far.”

  Laura nodded. “Good idea. You can make it, Mesmo.”

  Ben couldn’t avoid staring at the alien’s face. It was drawn, his skin almost as grey as Kaia’s had been…

  …when she died.

  He took Mesmo by the arm and stared at the man with intense determination.

 

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