by Rae Knightly
Praise for the
Award Winning
THE ALIEN SKILL SERIES
Reviews:
“Full of Awesome Adventure and Emotion!”
“This series will be around for years!”
“You might want a box of tissues for some scenes.”
“Wouldn’t I just love to have the skill!”
“I loved it! Every bit of it!”
BOOKS BY RAE KNIGHTLY
Prequel
The Great War of the Kins
Subscribe at: www.raeknightly.com
THE ALIEN SKILL SERIES
Ben Archer and the Cosmic Fall, Book 1
www.amazon.com/dp/B0888W8SCY
Ben Archer and the Alien Skill, Book 2
www.amazon.com/dp/B088YRBTBX
Ben Archer and the Moon Paradox, Book 3
www.amazon.com/dp/B089RTJ6VX
Ben Archer and the World Beyond, Book 4
www.amazon.com/dp/B0843RVPFT
Ben Archer and the Star Rider, Book 5
www.amazon.com/dp/B086RK31LT
Ben Archer and the Toreq Son, Book 6
www.amazon.com/dp/B08HWQYPH5
BEN
ARCHER
and
THE ALIEN SKILL
Human or alien?
Rae Knightly
BEN ARCHER AND THE ALIEN SKILL
THE ALIEN SKILL SERIES, BOOK 2
Copyright © 2018 by Rae Knightly.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information, go to:
www.raeknightly.com
Cover design by PINTADO
Book Formatting by Derek Murphy @Creativindie
Published by PoCo Publishers
ISBN Ebook: 978-1-989605-10-3
Second Edition: May 2020
For Elianne and Diego,
who were born of two cultures.
C O N T E N T S
CHAPTER 1 The Spacecraft
CHAPTER 2 Poison
CHAPTER 3 The Declaration
CHAPTER 4 Kimimela
CHAPTER 5 The Crow
CHAPTER 6 Enceladus
CHAPTER 7 Gift
CHAPTER 8 Northern Lights
CHAPTER 9 Cold Friendships
CHAPTER 10 Ice
CHAPTER 11 The War of the Kins
CHAPTER 12 Viral
CHAPTER 13 Breakthrough
CHAPTER 14 Rejection
CHAPTER 15 Not Human
CHAPTER 16 Dreamcatcher
CHAPTER 17 Trapped
CHAPTER 18 Acceptance
CHAPTER 19 Grizzly
CHAPTER 20 Convergence
CHAPTER 21 Confrontation
CHAPTER 22 The Wrath of the Kananaskis
CHAPTER 23 Doubt
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 1 The Spacecraft
Once more, Inspector James Hao found himself staring at the final report containing the results of the blood sample. No matter how hard he tried to make sense of it, the evidence remained undeniable: the individual the sample had been extracted from was not a human being.
Hao couldn’t believe that, a little over a month ago, he had been sitting opposite the subject in the interrogation room of the Vancouver Police Department. Never would the Inspector have suspected that, behind the innocent features of a twelve-year-old boy, lay a creature from another planet. Hao’s stomach twisted at the thought.
A week ago, High Inspector George Tremblay, Head of the National Aerial Division of the CSIS, had tapped the file with the tips of his fingers. “This file remains between us,” he had said, eyeing Hao and his collegue, Connelly. The three men had stood in the High Inspector’s office, facing each other.
Tremblay had lifted an eyebrow at Connelly. “You took the sample without my prior authorization. I should fire you for acting in such an unprofessional manner. You can consider yourself lucky that your hunch about the subject was correct. Nevertheless, this information will not enter the official investigation and is not to be mentioned beyond this office. The fact that this child, this Benjamin Archer, is an extraterrestrial must remain between us. Is that clear?”
Hao had observed Connelly out of the corner of his eye, secretly satisfied to watch his colleague being reprimanded by their chief. Even though he had taken a dislike to his colleague and had personnally disapproved of the blood extraction, he had to hand it to Connelly for getting results. All in all, he had to admit that Connelly’s methods of investigation were particularly efficient if not particularly legal.
The cell phone on Hao’s desk buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. A message arrived, accompanied by a tiny image. Hao’s forehead—creased in concentration a second ago—softened, and a chuckle escaped his lips. He pressed the image to enlarge it, and the huge, black nuzzle of an English Shephard appeared. The black dog was checking out the camera of whoever was taking the picture.
The message read: DID YOU FORGET ME?
Hao smiled and checked his watch. It was close to midnight at the Dugout, located in Eastern Canada, which meant it was nine pm where the message had originated.
What am I doing, still stuck at my desk at this hour? Hao brooded.
He hesitated for an instant, then pressed on the message to dial the number. The phone rang once before someone picked up, and a woman’s voice answered in surprise, “Hello?”
“Hi, Lizzie,” Hao said.
“Jimmy?” the woman said. There was shuffling in the background and Hao heard Lizzie’s muffled voice, “Still! Sit still, Buddy!” Then her voice sounded clearer. “Oh my gosh! You should see that! He knows it’s you! Yes, Buddy! It’s your daddy! Your long-lost daddy…”
Hao heard the English Shephard bark happily, and he was reminded people lived normal, tranquil lives out in the real world.
“Jimmy?” Lizzie began. “I can’t believe it’s you. I sent that picture of Buddy, but never thought you’d actually have time to call back. Must be my lucky day!”
Hao grinned. “How are you, Sis?”
Lizzie sighed in an exaggerated manner. “Do I really need to tell you? Buddy uprooted my rosebushes this afternoon. You know how we love him around here, but, honestly, I love my flowers more.”
Hao could hear Buddy panting in the background.
Lizzie continued, “I haven’t heard from you in ages! When are you coming home?”
Hao’s mood darkened as his eyes slid back to the blood file on his desk. “Not anytime soon. I’ve got a big case on my hands. Probably the biggest I’ll ever work on.” He sighed. “I realize Buddy’s a burden for you. Do you want me to contact the dog kennel we talked about?”
Lizzie remained silent for a moment, before answering earnestly, “Of course not. I love my roses, but if it helps you, then I'm happy to keep Buddy for a bit longer. You know Geoffrey and I wouldn't want to see him cooped up and miserable.”
Hao let out a silent breath of relief. “Thanks. I owe you one. When this is over, we’ll go pick out some rose-bushes together.”
“You?” Lizzie scoffed. “In a plant nursery? Never gonna happen!”
The
y both laughed.
“Seriously, Jimmy,” Lizzie said with a concerned voice. “There's always a new case popping up. You make it sound as if you were the only one catching the bad guys. I know I'm repeating myself, but bad guys will be around with or without you. And, trust me, there's a dozen younger James Bonds out there longing to take your place.”
Hao scoffed, “Take it easy, Sis, I’m not that old!”
Lizzie clicked her tongue which meant to him that she wasn’t ready to crack jokes. She pushed on. “If you were still married, your wife would be the one scolding you instead of me. So brace yourself while I nag you for a bit!”
Hao stood with a knowing smile. He paced along the office window overlooking a cavernous hangar and let her have her moment.
“I know how important it is to you to put the criminals behind bars and I, more than anyone, appreciate how hard you work to keep we little citizens safe,” Lizzie spoke. “But, you have to stop acting like you’re the only one carrying the burden.” Her voice sounded thick with worry as she added, “I just want to make sure you stop in time.”
While he listened, Hao gazed at the impressive, alien spacecraft that hovered a few feet from the concrete floor at the center of the dim hangar. Everyone, except for security, had left for the night. Only a couple of emergency and forgotten office lights illuminated the area. He thought he saw a movement blend into the shadow cast by the spacecraft and leaned forward, forgetting the phone stuck to his ear.
Lizzie’s concerned voice came through to him again. “I know you. You wouldn’t call unless something was wrong. Is something the matter?”
Since nothing moved in the grey hangar, except for his own reflection in his office window, Hao’s well-built frame relaxed, and he turned to head back to his desk.
“Jimmy? Are you listening?” she asked.
“Hm, yeah, I’m listening,” he replied with a tired voice. He sat back in his office chair and rubbed his left temple as he shut his eyes. He needed to rest, but the case wouldn’t let him go. And suddenly he realized why.
“It’s weird,” he said thoughtfully, speaking more to himself than his sister. “You know me: you know I’m an expert at telling good from bad, right? I mean, I understand the mind of a murderer; I know how to pick out a crook; I’m always a step ahead of elaborate thieves. I catch them and put them behind bars, where they belong.” He broke off, picking up the file in front of him. “But these ones, Lizzie? Jeez, for all I know, they could start World War Three tomorrow, and I wouldn’t even suspect.” He shook his head, surprised at his own confession. “The thing is, for the first time in my career, I’ve been asked to chase down criminals I don’t understand.” He paused. “And that frightens me.”
* * *
Agent Theodore Edmond Connelly paused in the shadow of the spacecraft until Hao disappeared from view. The bald, green-eyed man set his jaw: he had almost gotten caught by Hao as he snuck up to the hovering spaceship. Had Hao spotted him, it would have led to a load of unnecessary questions, something Connelly could not afford to answer right now.
He grimaced while he waited. As soon as Hao moved away from his office window, Connelly reached out to the sleek ship. At the touch of his fingers, an invisible door opened faster than the eye could see. Connelly jumped inside and the door slid shut behind him.
Without delay, the bald man approached the front of the spacecraft where he pulled up hovering screens filled with undecipherable patterns and intricate symbols.
Behind these transparent screens, the ship's large window dominated the concrete hangar. Connelly was not worried about being caught. He knew that, while he could look out, no one could look in. He was safe.
After performing a couple of movements over the screens, he connected to the Dugout surveillance cameras. He made sure that they remained disabled and showed static, then worked remotely to activate them again. His mouth turned into a thin line of concentration.
He checked the time. It had been almost four minutes since he had cut the power to the cameras—thus allowing him safe access to the spacecraft. Way too long! If he didn’t turn the system on again soon, security would notice—if they hadn’t already.
This was all Hao’s fault. What was his colleague doing in his office at this time of night? The man’s diligence irritated him.
Sure, it served him well, but he had to constantly be on his toes to avoid Hao’s scrutiny from focusing on him. For now, Connelly was satisfied to remain in Hao’s shadow. It avoided him having to interact too much with others. Hao did all the talking, while Connelly watched and learned. Yet the man kept on intercepting his own progress. Connelly knew that, should Hao become a burden, he would have to silence the man permanently.
At the moment, though, he had more pressing matters. It only took him half a minute to bring the Dugout cameras back online, yet by the time he was finished, his brow creased in pain.
Connelly stood and staggered backwards into a cubicle to the side of the spacecraft. At a wave of his hand, a stream of energy washed over him in blue surges, and his face began to tremble with unnatural speed. He sagged against the back wall, breathing heavily, unable to stop the transformation from taking its course.
Out of his bald head grew spikey, white hair; his nose lengthened; his muscles tightened; and he stretched a few inches taller. He groaned, leaning his forehead into the cradle of his arm.
When the shaking stopped, he glanced up with empty, honey-brown eyes. Bordock stepped out of the cubicle, then stretched his neck and shoulders, exhaling slowly as he did so.
This shapeshifting business was proving harder than anticipated, yet he knew he had no choice but to hold up the pretence that he was Connelly if he was to find Mesmo and the boy. Time was not on his side. He should have been gone long ago. Yet all trails of the fugitives had gone up in smoke. His pulse elevated at the mere thought.
His eyes fell on six, large circles outlined on the back wall of the ship—three above at eye-level and three directly below. Small lights blinked at him, inviting him over. He couldn’t resist the temptation and pressed a couple of buttons on the lowest circle to the right. A long tube ejected from the wall. It contained a form inside.
Bordock stared at the pale face with white lips and closed, sunken eyes of the man who lay in the tube before him. He noticed how a soft blue light reflected on the man’s bald head.
“Enjoying the ride, Connelly?” Bordock smirked.
He noted with satisfaction that the features of the real Connelly were well preserved in the tube, meaning he would still be able to shapeshift into the agent. In fact, the man looked like he was sleeping peacefully. Bordock tapped on the small screen that should have indicated an extremely slow heartbeat brought on by induced sleep.
There was nothing.
“You’ll have company soon enough,” he promised the dead man.
Bordock let the real Connelly slide back into his unusual coffin, then tapped the other incubators for good measure. They would fit Mesmo and the boy, as well as Mesmo’s other three companions, who lay on the last floor of the Dugout. Then, and only then, would he have the necessary proof that his task was complete and he could leave this repulsive planet behind.
With that in mind, he headed back to the front of the ship, where he called up an impressive amount of screens. He surveilled them with renewed determination. On one of these many screens, Mesmo’s face appeared, while behind it an innumerable amount of live camera images from road surveillance cameras flickered with thousands of faces on them: the computer scrambled to find a match.
Below it, the same operation was happening with Benjamin Archer’s face.
As the night wore on, the alien shapeshifter searched for the fugitives from within his spacecraft, while in the office a few feet away, he knew that Inspector Hao was doing precisely the same thing.
CHAPTER 2 Poison
Wake up!
Some part of Benjamin Archer’s mind whispered to him, but the words did not match the inten
se dream he was having. In it, he was caught in the middle of a lightning storm. He was surrounded by bright sparks that gave off bluish, electric charges which shot into the darkness, in such a way that he did not have time to figure out where he was. Were his feet even touching the floor? He didn’t think so.
He became extremely apprehensive as the storm intensified. It reminded him of a girl with long, white hair. She was grasping his hand, staring at him fiercely as she discharged a flow of energy into his body.
He squirmed in his sleep, trying to escape something he could not run from. But as he did so, he felt himself drop into darkness at an alarming speed. His arms flailed in a meek attempt to slow his fall, while a deep, repetitive sound reached his ears. Whatever it was, he was careening towards it.
Thud-thud, thud-thud it went, louder and louder.
A roaring sound reached his ears, and without warning, he was thrust into a thick liquid, surrounded by nasty, blue filaments.
Poison!
He writhed at the realization. The blue threads followed him into the dark-red rivers that were his own blood. His mind zoomed out and he saw the complex network of his veins, like a million tree-roots, all heading in the same direction.
Thud-thud, thud-thud.
In an instant, the poison would reach his heart and be pumped throughout his body.
He scrambled to stop this from happening, but it was as if he were swimming in dense water. His heart pounded like a drum, releasing the poison to every living cell, ingesting, expulsing, ingesting, expulsing.
Stop!
Wake up!
Two voices were fighting for attention, one internal, the other external.
How does that even make sense?
