Ben Archer

by Rae Knightly

Laura wandered the streets of Toronto aimlessly, her mind in turmoil. She clutched the object Mesmo had given her for safekeeping several weeks earlier: the one which he had said contained information.

  But what kind of information?

  Was the frozen symbol at the fountain meant for her? Did Mesmo expect her to uncover a secret message contained in the gadget somehow?

  She slipped into a back alley and crouched against the wall behind some garbage bins, then pulled out the object and studied it up close. It was the length of her pinkie and was made from a heavy material. She noted once more that it vaguely resembled the musical symbol commonly placed at the beginning of music partitions. There were tiny indentations and bumps along the surface, but nothing giving the slightest hint as to how it functioned.

  Laura leant back and let out a shaky breath.

  What now?

  A racket down the alley made her start. She peeked out of her hiding spot behind the garbage bin and saw a form hunch out the garage doors of a warehouse, pushing aside empty boxes that stood in his way. She tensed, preparing to flee. But the man headed in the opposite direction without noticing her.

  Is that…?

  “Bob?” She got to her feet instantly. “Wait up!”

  The bearded man glanced at her, then hastened away.

  “Hey!” she yelled, sprinting after him.

  Bob broke into a run, but not fast enough that she couldn’t catch up with him.

  “Stop already!” she panted, grabbing his arm. “Why are you running?” She fell back at the sight of his harried look.

  He cringed at her touch.

  “What’s the matter?”

  His eyes darted from side to side. “Danger,” he muttered. “Have to go…”

  “Wait a minute! What happened? Tell me!”

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “This police officer came to my condo…I thought he was…but his face! His face…Not normal…”

  “I know about him already. The police just took Ben away. He’s in grave danger! We have to do something!”

  Bob rocked on his feet without looking at her.

  “Bob!” she yelled, trying to shake him into action. “Come on! We have to save Ben!”

  Ben’s father remained silent.

  Laura’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God! You’re running away from him again!”

  Bob scrubbed at his face with his hands. “I…this is not…You never said…”

  Laura pressed her hands against her stomach, stepping back from him. “You’re doing it again,” she said accusingly. “I thought you’d changed, but you haven’t.”

  Bob dropped his chin to his chest as if she had just slapped him in the face. “Too dangerous… We…we could get killed…Need to hide…”

  She watched him mutter half to himself as he distanced himself from her, feeling too numb to retain him. She so needed Bob’s help right now, but clearly, Bordock had left a lasting mark on him. Could she blame him?

  I’m terrified of Bordock, too.

  But turning her back on Ben was out of the question. And with that in mind, she realized there was only one thing left for her to do.

  ***

  Connelly drove further and further away from any signs of civilization, with Ben catching glimpses through the small dust-covered windows of traffic-jammed Toronto streets to hills covered in maple trees that went on and on for as far as the eye could see. Darkness fell, making the whole trip even lonelier.

  Where’s he taking me?

  The longer the drive, the more desperate he became, especially after the van veered on to a bumpy road, away from the main, asphalted highway.

  This spirit travelling didn’t sit well with him. He yearned to return to the real, physical world and be in charge of his movements. The invisible pressure exerted all around him made it hard for him to concentrate. It was as if an elephant sat on him, making it necessary to focus his every thought on not getting crushed.

  Now I know how Mesmo felt all these months.

  The van finally came to a stop many hours later, in the pitch of the night. Ben briefly caught sight of a convoy of trucks and soldiers bustling around an open area illuminated by LED floodlights, in the middle of which stood a dull, concrete building.

  The van, however, came to a standstill under the shadow of trees, far enough not to be noticed.

  Connelly turned to him. “Don’t try anything funny,” he warned, before getting out and shutting the door.

  The shapeshifter’s footsteps faded away, leaving Ben in a crushing silence.

  How’m I going to get out of this one?

  ***

  The heavy Dugout elevator came to a standstill. Three soldiers stepped out of it, flanking the alien that Hao had been searching for for a good six months. The Inspector watched, along with a dozen other bystanders, as the tall subject strode across the hangar dominated by the hovering spacecraft.

  He looks so normal, Hao observed, feeling a chill run down his spine. How many others are out there?

  He followed the apprehended suspect across the hangar, briefly noticing that he was getting used to his crutches. But while the soldiers took the alien to the interrogation room, Hao split from the group and headed down to the last floor.

  There, he found men in protective suits rushing around the safe room containing the three lifeless aliens, and Hao watched as the boy was rolled on a stretcher beside the alien girl.

  The medical team shouted orders to each other and Hao had to wobble aside as a heart monitor and other medical equipment were rushed to the boy’s side.

  “What’s going on?” Hao asked sharply, addressing a passing medic. “Is he alive?”

  The practitioner lifted his surgical mask. “Barely,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his arm. “His heart rate is dangerously low. Zero reflex responses. We’re treating it as a coma.”

  Hao pressed his lips together.

  The practitioner covered his mouth again and adjusted his latex gloves. “It would help if we knew what happened to him. You could consider slipping the question to his alien accomplice.” Without waiting for a response, the practitioner went to join the rest of the medical team.

  Hao backed away with dullness in the chest. He did not like it when an investigation went awry. In his mind, if anyone got hurt–be it police, civilian or suspect–it meant unprofessional coordination of the special forces. A successful intervention should occur in a quasi-invisible and swift manner, with as little disturbance to civilians as possible. Hao exhaled air out of his puffed cheeks.

  This case is one mess after another, he thought scornfully.

  He clambered back up the stairs and headed for the interrogation room. The soldier standing guard moved aside sharply.

  Good, Hao thought. This one still thinks I’m in charge.

  He entered the dark room and observed the alien sitting behind the one-way mirror. A soldier stood guard beside the subject, while another flanked the wall beside Hao.

  “Where’s Agent Connelly?” Hao asked the guard.

  “He’s debriefing the High Inspector, Sir,” the guard replied. “They’ll be down in a minute.”

  Good. Out loud, Hao said, “Well, I don’t have all day. Open up, will you?”

  “But Agent Co…”

  “…will be down in a minute, you just said. I’m to begin questioning the suspect at once.”

  The guard shifted, but Hao knew he still exerted enough authority to be obeyed.

  Might as well use it while it lasts, he thought bitterly.

  “Yes, Sir.” The guard straightened and hurried to unlock the door with a code. It buzzed open, and Hao stepped in.

  “I’d like to speak to the suspect, alone,” he told the guard who stuck by the wall like a poster.

  “That is not advisable, S…” the guard began.

  “I’ll determine what is and what isn’t advisable, soldier. You will leave me with the suspect!”

  The soldier knocked his army boots together. “Ye
s, Sir!” He exited the room with quick strides, and the door clicked heavily shut behind him.

  Hao paced the room, his crutches clicking on the floor.

  The subject sat with his eyes closed, his skin a light shade of grey, his cuffed hands resting on the table before him.

  Hao couldn’t help but stare at the extraterrestrial in fascination. Had this individual really crashed in one of the alien spaceships that they had recovered on the fields of Chilliwack? Up until this moment, Hao had felt like he had been chasing a phantom. Months of research had only revealed fleeting glimpses of the subject: a lousy image from an airport camera, a grainy picture from a funeral, and a glance of the man fleeing on the Kananaskis Mountains…

  Just look at him, Hao thought, observing the man’s traits: wavy, brown hair, high cheekbones, square chin and straight nose. Slightly taller than the average male. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  He dyed his hair, Hao realized suddenly.

  Placed next to the other aliens, there was an undeniable similarity. And then there were the hundreds of questions he had about inexplicable whale and crow attacks, the fact that this individual had survived a massive avalanche unscathed, and the many news reports that were surging of the Berczy Park incident with a mysterious, frozen symbol perched on top of its fountain.

  Not to mention that there’s no trace of him in any official identification system.

  Even though he did not have a shred of hard evidence to link this individual to The Cosmic Fall, his gut feeling told him that the right suspect had been apprehended–meaning he was once more in the presence of an extraterrestrial being. Hao’s stomach felt queasy.

  How does one initiate a conversation with an alien? he wondered.

  Hao wished he had time to ask the millions of questions that crisscrossed his mind, but they would have to wait. He sat opposite the suspect and said, “My name is Inspector James Hao. My partner, Agent Theodore Connelly, will be joining us soon.”

  The alien opened his eyes. They were a deep honey-colour. Slightly unusual, but not impossible. They reflected extreme weariness, yet Hao’s heightened senses also perceived the hint of a connection between them.

  “How is the boy?” the subject asked.

  Hao had hoped for a mutual introduction, but clearly, the alien was testing the ground on which he stood. “Benjamin Archer, you mean?” he replied, deciding to go along with the alien’s side of the conversation. “We believe he is in a coma. You can rest assured that he is closely monitored by our medical team.”

  The alien gave a single nod.

  “Can you tell me what happened to him, so our doctors can treat him accordingly?” Hao asked.

  The alien studied him as if trying to determine how much he should say. “Perhaps you should ask that question to the one you call your partner,” he replied finally.

  Hao flinched involuntarily. “Why?”

  The alien held his gaze with a glint in his eyes but did not answer.

  There’s that connection again. “What would my partner know, that I don’t?” Hao insisted. It bothered him that the subject didn’t look away once. He wants to talk but is cautious.

  Voices came from the other side of the one-way mirror.

  Damn! “Talk to me!” Hao urged. “What would my partner know about the boy that I don’t? I already know he’s not human. My partner took a blood sample from him.”

  The alien leant forward, his eyes glued to Hao, and spoke in a low voice, “Did he, really?”

  Hao opened his mouth, but just then lights came on in the adjacent room, making the High Inspector and Connelly visible through the smoked glass.

  Connelly approached the window to glance at them, then lifted his arm and tapped on his silver wristwatch meaningfully as if indicating that Hao’s time was up.

  The door swung open, and the High Inspector stepped in, eyes protruding. “Hao, what do you think you’re doing?”

  Hao didn’t have time to reply.

  The alien’s reaction was swift. He sprang out of his chair, shoved the High Inspector aside and threw himself at Connelly. The bald man toppled under the attacker’s weight.

  Chaotic shouts broke out. The two guards rushed to Connelly’s aid and tore the alien away from him, then dragged the suspect back into the interrogation room, pinning him down on the chair. The High Inspector and Connelly picked themselves up from the ground shakily.

  Hao gaped from the alien to his colleagues. He grabbed his crutches and hopped out of the room. “Do you have that effect on everyone?” he taunted his partner.

  Connelly glowered at him while he straightened his jacket and wiped at the dust on his arms.

  Hao turned to his boss, “I take it you don’t require my assistance for this interrogation?”

  The High Inspector yelled, “Get out of here! I’ll deal with you later.”

  “Yesss, Sssir!”

  Just before the door to the interrogation room shut behind him, Hao took due note of the furious stare that the alien was directing at Connelly. What’s up with him? He wondered.

  He stepped into the hangar where he contemplated the spacecraft without really seeing it. Connelly, he thought. Everything always leads back to Connelly.

  His mind whirled. He had told the alien that Connelly had taken a blood sample from the boy and he had replied, “Did he, really?” Why had he said that? And why had the alien attacked Connelly specifically? Clearly, something was going on between his partner and the suspect. If only he could figure out what it was.

  “Inspector?” A woman with a grey skirt and white shirt ran up to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Have you seen Agent Connelly?”

  Man, our wonder boy truly has made himself indispensable around here, Hao seethed. The Inspector leant on one of his crutches and pointed behind him. “He’s busy right now.”

  “Oh,” the woman said, her shoulders dropping.

  “What is it?”

  “I have a phone call for him. It’s that woman, Laura Archer? She says she wants to turn herself in.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Fireworks

  What’s happening out there?

  Not knowing threatened to plunge Ben into an uncontrollable panic. He felt as though he were on the edge of a black hole, looking down. The swirling quicksand inside the hole reached its sticky fingers around his spirit, intent on tearing it apart as it tried to return to his physical body. He daren’t try anything for fear he would tip over into the void.

  How did Mesmo do it?

  How had the alien managed to fight off the spirit portal’s powerful tug? He closed his eyes and embraced the despair that swept through his mind.

  No hope…

  Benjamin Archer?

  Something whispered faintly in his ear.

  I’m going crazy, he thought.

  There was a sound like rushing water, and from somewhere far away, he heard his name being called. He opened his eyes again and felt warmth emanating from his hands. They glowed a transparent blue.

  Benjamin Archer?

  Beetrix?

  He held still with expectation.

  Benjamin Archer? Where are you?

  Beetrix! His mind burst with relief.

  Beetrix buzzed at the edge of his thoughts.

  I feared the worst. Your body lies immobile, yet I sensed your presence. How can that be?

  I am trapped in the van. Please help me!

  The bee’s thoughts strengthened in his mind.

  You may come.

  Ben’s eyes rolled back into his head, and suddenly he was floating outside the vehicle, looking back at it. He felt a cool breeze on Beetrix’ wings, and leaves from the maple trees swayed above him.

  I’m free!

  For a split second his mind leapt with elation. But Beetrix’ words crushed his hopes.

  I feel your spirit weakening. I fear for your life.

  Ben felt Bordock’s trap tug at him, exerting pressure from all sides. He hadn’t been miraculously free
d at all.

  I’m only using the translation skill.

  Mesmo’s words echoed in his mind: The skill is not connected to the body. It is connected to the spirit. Meaning Beetrix was providing him with a window to the outside, but his situation had not changed.

  Beetrix’ thoughts reached him.

  What is happening, Benjamin Archer! I sense great danger…

  But Ben wasn’t listening. He had barely connected with Beetrix when he spotted the shapeshifter reach the van, open its back doors and disappear inside. Overcome with panic, he gagged as he disconnected with the queen bee and his thoughts tumbled back into the vehicle. When his sight adjusted, it was to come face to face with Connelly.

  “What are you doing?” the shapeshifter growled.

  “N-nothing,” Ben gasped, wishing he could be anywhere else but here. Beetrix fluttered at the boundary of his mind. He shut her out entirely so his hands wouldn’t glow.

  Connelly eyed him suspiciously, his irises switching from green to honey-brown.

  Ben noted instinctively that the shapeshifter was not in a good mood.

  “I don’t trust you,” the bald man said. “Don’t try anything funny while I go deal with your Toreq friend.”

  Fear gripped Ben’s mind. “Where’s Mesmo? What have you done to him?” he blurted.

  Connelly bent on one knee to check on the black boxes. “You can forget about that scum. His hours are counted.”

  Ben felt the space around him tighten. “Why are you doing this?” he gasped.

  The shapeshifter straightened and set cool eyes on him. “There will be time, later, to discuss the reasons for my actions.”

  Ben’s stomach twisted. I don’t want to be here, later.

  He thought frantically. “Killing Mesmo won’t change anything. Just leave us alone. What does it matter to you? Once you leave with your spaceship, Mesmo won’t be able to follow. Don’t you see? Whoever is waiting for you up there won’t know the difference.”

  Connelly cast him a dark look that made him cringe. “I’ll know the difference,” he said. “His remains will be proof that I accomplished my task.”

  “Proof. For who? I bet even the A’hmun you work for wouldn’t accept such foul actions…”