by A. D. Winch
The next day he tried to find Agent Angel to explain that he would be of no use. Instead, he discovered that Agent Angel had left the base and would return when the pod was opened. In other words, he could not leave until the job was done.
During the course of the next few weeks, he passed all the information he had about the ‘old’ dart, and his past experiences with it, to the other five scientists he was working with. He told them everything that he knew except for the most important detail - he had not opened the dart; Ingrid had. He preferred to say that he thought it had opened by itself.
While he was passing on information, the other scientists ignored this detail but by the middle of October he had nothing more to tell them. The pod refused to open despite using all the latest technologies that were available.
In November, they had access to a powerful laser which could cut through anything on Earth. After a week of pointing the green beam at every square millimetre on the pod, they had to accept that the laser would not penetrate it. Relationships between the scientists and Professor Schwarzkopf became strained, and conversations were short. Meetings and discussions on the best way to move forward became longer and longer but less and less was said. Professor Schwarzkopf started to feel that, unless there was a miracle, the pod would not open. Every possibility that he and the other scientists could think of had been exhausted. They had tried a logical and systematic approach but privately he thought the only thing that could open the pod now was luck.
By December, almost three months after Professor Schwarzkopf had arrived at the base, the other scientists’ faith in him ran out. As he had feared, nothing he could physically do would open the pod. He knew that they doubted his intellect and his ‘aged’ mind.
Following a pre-lunch meeting one day the five scientists, led by Kurtz, challenged him openly. She harshly questioned his memories, knowledge and skills while the others stood behind her nodding uncomfortably in the background. He knew why they were worried. They had been told that Agent Angel would be visiting before the end of the year, and they had no results to show him.
Professor Schwarzkopf felt sorry for them. They lived in a ‘now’ society where they could do everything, and get anything, at the touch of a button. Despite feeling this, he had still been hurt by the things that had been said.
After Kurtz’s rant, all the scientists went for lunch and left the Professor to his thoughts. He sank down onto a chair next to the pod, buried his head in his hands and closed his eyes. His mind filled immediately with memories of happier times and images of his beloved Ingrid.
If she were here, she could open the pod, he thought.
She had been the only person on the planet who knew how it could be done, and she wouldn’t tell a soul. Not even her husband. He chuckled to himself; she always was better at keeping secrets. The happier thoughts were replaced by sadder ones. He wished she could still be with him; he wondered what it would have been like to grow old together, and he regretted that they had never had any children. The one thing that he really missed was her determination to finish anything she started and to inspire him to do the same. He heard the faded memory of her voice encouraging him, lifted his head from his hands and opened his eyes.
The pod was open.
The reaction of the scientists, when they returned after lunch, was mixed. Kurtz congratulated him without meaning it, and she failed to hide her lack of trust in the Professor. The other four were amazed, then extremely apologetic, and then excited by the task ahead. Professor Schwarzkopf saw in them Ingrid and himself, sixty years younger, energized by their work.
The inside of the pod was very different from the dart. In the centre of the pod was a cherry red object that best resembled a bed. It was made from a material that obviously had not been seen on earth before. The ‘bed’ was the same size as a baby’s car seat, but it moved as if alive. The scientists soon discovered that if they put their hand on the ‘bed’ the material would wrap itself around their hand, cocoon-like, leaving it warm and snug. If the scientists put a non-living item on the material, it would do nothing. Their next discovery was that the material could expand to accommodate different living things bigger than itself. To test this they experimented with the base’s dog, an Alsatian called Ben.
From wet nose to fluffy tail Ben was three times as long as the ‘bed.' The mild mannered dog was picked up and gently placed onto the red material, much to Kurtz’s dismay. Ben lay down and the scientists watched with interest. Within a few seconds the bed began to grow upwards, around Ben. He began to whimper but was told sharply by Kurtz to stay where he was. In less than a minute, it had covered all of him except his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and funnily enough, his bottom. His whimpering stopped; his tongue hung out of his mouth, and he looked perfectly content. At first the scientists were pleased by this discovery but when they tried to get Ben out they cursed themselves for putting him on the ‘bed.'
It was impossible to pull the red material away from the relaxed dog. They tried to use their hands and tools but, as the craft itself, the material was impossible to get into. In the end it was decided that, if they could not get in, Ben would have to get out. A very large bone was acquired from the mess hall and waved in front of Ben’s mouth. Saliva dripped from his jaws; the material pulled back from his body; Ben jumped out, and the ‘bed’ returned to its original state.
Surrounding the ‘bed’ were multi-coloured tubes, wires and probes, which could have easily come from Earth. The engine or propulsion system was virtually identical to the dart, but much smaller, and based on technology apparently from another world. The on-board computer looked quite dated on the outside. However, when it was opened up they found electronics that companies were only just including in their most expensive and up-to-date machines.
After three weeks of studying and dissecting the pod the scientists, supported by Professor Schwarzkopf, concluded it was an alien/human hybrid craft - a machine built using both alien and human technologies. When Agent Angel visited the base, Professor Schwarzkopf told him of their findings.
“Interesting,” he said without showing the slightest bit of interest whatsoever. “Now tell me, what was in it? Whatever was in it is dangerous, and it ain’t there now. As I told you before, John, it is a danger to our way of life. Of that, I am certain.”
Over the next few days, they searched everywhere in the pod looking for evidence of a living thing, cursing the fact that they had put Ben inside and ignoring Kurtz’s moaning. Every hair, speck of dirt and bit of dust that they could find, was analysed to see if it contained DNA - the building blocks of life. It took them two and half days to rule out every hair Ben had shed; a day to dismiss every skin cell and hair dropped by the scientists, and another half a day to rule out the dirt and dust. On the sixth day, Professor Schwarzkopf found a white flake. It was on the end of one of the tubes which had been checked once before and was barely bigger than a full stop. He was pleased that his old eyes had not failed him, but his find also stirred deeply buried and unpleasant memories. More than sixty years previously he had discovered a similar sample - a sample that he had always regretted finding. He hoped the same would be not true of this white flake.
The flake was placed on a glass slide and placed under the microscope. Professor Schwarzkopf sat at the table and stared at it through the eyepiece. He did not recognize it and asked the others to have a look. Doctor Karima Khan, a specialist in human biology, stated straight away that it was a piece of dried saliva. The computer was connected to the microscope and tests were run while the scientists waited. The word ‘testing’ blazed across the screen and then suddenly it vanished and was replaced by two words, ‘Human DNA.' No sooner had they appeared than they disappeared, to be replaced by one word, ‘Error.' They flashed up on the screen repeatedly, ‘Human DNA. Error. Human DNA. Error. Human DNA. Error.’
Dr Khan took the slide into her lab to run further tests. Her findings matched those of the computer: it was Human DNA, but there w
as something wrong with it. Something she had never seen before.
On the seventh day, Professor Schwarzkopf and the other scientists took a break. They had done what had been asked of them and after working almost twenty hour days they were exhausted. Their last remaining energy they used up on a party to celebrate. Kurtz attended only briefly.
The following morning, feeling slightly worse for wear, they met Agent Angel in the briefing room. He was sat on a front seat looking serious and expectant. Professor Schwarzkopf had been elected to lead the briefing despite Kurtz’s protests. Nursing a sore head, he stood at the front of the room. He spoke about the discoveries they had made without using the whiteboard or computer, and his only prop was the sealed slide of saliva. Occasionally the other scientists supported what he was saying but for the most part they just listened. Near the end of his speech, his lungs started to give up, and every other sentence was broken up by a bout of coughing. Agent Angel’s cigarette smoke did not help.
After the presentation Agent Angel and Professor Schwarzkopf changed places. Professor Schwarzkopf placed the slide carefully on the desk in front of him, and Agent Angel stood, domineering, beside the whiteboard. While flicking his cigarette ash onto the floor, he thanked them all for their hard work.
“Did you find anything else? Any data files or documents?” he asked.
The scientists shook their heads. The computer on board would not reboot, and the files were irretrievable. Unhappy with their answers, Agent Angel dismissed them all except Professor Schwarzkopf. Kurtz loitered in the corridor outside.
“I’m glad I pulled you out of your humdrum retirement, John,” he said, sitting down on a chair next to Professor Schwarzkopf.
“It’s been interesting,” replied Professor Schwarzkopf honestly.
“Good, I’m glad, because I may have need of you again.”
“When?” asked Professor Schwarzkopf and moved uncomfortably in his seat.
“I don’t know,” replied Agent Angel, taking a drag of his cigarette before continuing, “but you go home now and rest. I’ll get my boys at the lab onto this.”
He picked up the slide carefully and examined it.
“Consider your job here done. Go and pack. A driver will be waiting to take you when you are ready.”
He directed Professor Schwarzkopf towards the door.
“See you around, John. And thanks again.”
He held out his hand and the two men shook.
Professor Schwarzkopf left the room feeling slightly uneasy. He followed Kurtz down the corridor and was passed by six men who looked like marines. They all looked the same: closely shaven heads, dressed in black soldier’s gear and built like tanks. He watched as they entered the briefing room, one by one, in a neat file.
“Team Omega, reporting for duty, Sir,” said one of them in a regularly drilled voice.
The six men stood rigid with their arms by their sides. They were squashed behind the chairs, and the room seemed to have shrunk since their arrival.
“At ease, Team Omega,” ordered Agent Angel.
In a synchronized move their shoulders dropped, their arms fell behind their backs, and their feet parted.
“Your mission is to find out who this DNA belongs to.” Agent Angel waved the slide in front of them. “They are a threat to our national security. Once you have found him or her then you will make sure that they are never again found by anyone else. Ever!”
“Yes, Sir,” chanted Team Omega.
“Dismissed.”
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Chapter 12 - Christmas Cheer
The sun rose to reveal rain washing the Christmas day snow away. Eric did not want to get out of bed. His Christmas wish was to sleep for the rest of the holiday and to wake up the day before school began. The villa was empty except for himself and Andrea. However, Andrea was always doing something else which did not involve him, and he knew that he would hardly see her. No matter what he did, in any of the large rooms, he would feel alone. If he would play cards, it would have to be patience. If he played chess, his opponent would be a computer. When he picked up his guitar, there would be no band to play with, nor an audience to perform for. When he turned on his games console, he would have to select ‘one player.’ He was alone, alone, alone. He almost wished that Ursula was there. In many ways, he had started to get used to having her around, not as a friend but more like a bad smell which once gone you notice is missing.
Wearily he opened his eyes and looked around his bedroom. At the end of his bed was a big, bulging sack. Obviously his parents had instructed Andrea to put it there while he was asleep. His father had told him that Father Christmas never visited him when he was three years old. The sight of the presents was not a pleasant surprise. The bag just emphasized that his parents were somewhere else in the world without him.
Every year he enjoyed opening his Christmas presents with his parents. It was the one family ‘thing’ they were good at, probably because it involved spending money. On Christmas morning, he would be allowed to open one present in his bedroom. His father would then lift his sack and carry it downstairs. Eric, hand in hand with his mother, would follow. In the lounge under the pine tree, they would open all their other presents, steal chocolates from the green branches and flick the sparkling baubles. But not this year.
There was a knock at the door, and Andrea entered. Andrea fulfilled many roles for Eric, and many of these were as a substitute for his parents. Unfortunately, she was not his parents, and though she was always there, reliable and trustworthy, this was one role she could not play. On top of this, she was not particularly excited by Christmas or any celebration for that matter. Her clothes reflected her lack of interest. Rather than something special she was wearing her usual black, leather trousers, matching jacket and another rock T-shirt. This time for a band called ‘Sunshine.' In her hand, she held a small gift and an envelope.
“Merry Christmas, Eric,” she greeted, attempting to sound enthusiastic.
“And to you,” replied Eric gloomily.
Andrea passed a precisely wrapped present to Eric and waited.
“I think you will like it,” she said.
Eric sat up in bed and slowly peeled back the Christmas paper. He had a feeling that he knew what it was. Underneath the wrapping, he found what he expected, a T-shirt with a picture of four men with fake rabbit heads.
“They are my new favourite band,” Andrea said unconvincingly and pointed to her T-shirt.
“Thank you, Andrea,” replied Eric adopting the same tone too.
“Also, I was told to give you this,” and she handed Eric the envelope. “I will now go and cook you a Christmas breakfast. We are flying to Switzerland at eleven. You can open your presents there.”
Eric watched her walk away. She did not carry his sack of presents and had not held his hand.
With a sense of dread, Eric turned the envelope over. On the front, written in his father’s familiar scrawl was his name, Eric Meyer.
Ursula looked uneasily at the envelope in her hand; something about it felt wrong. She did not recognize the messy handwriting and the stamps were from Dubai. Neither she nor her grandparents knew anyone from the Arabic state. She put the envelope to one side and decided to open it last.
They were all sat on Ursula’s bed - Ursula, Mémé and Granddad Benjamin - and were all intrigued by the foreign envelope. Christmas morning had been lovely, just what Ursula had wished for. They had always celebrated Christmas on the twenty-fifth, rather than the twenty-fourth like the rest of France. Normally this was through choice but this year it was a necessity as she had only arrived home the night before.
Celebrating on this day was Granddad Benjamin’s doing. His anglophile father brought him up with Christmas on the twenty-fifth, and that was where it was going to stay. He rarely put his foot down, especially when going against his formidable wife, but on this he was not going to budge.
Before the sun had even risen, Ur
sula had been woken by Granddad Benjamin poking her in the shoulder with a roughly wrapped present. Ursula thought that Granddad Benjamin was more excited by Christmas than she was. By the time she was fully awake and sitting up in bed, Mémé had also entered her small bedroom. Sweet smells of cinnamon and ginger wafted into the room with Mémé and filled their noses. She was holding a plate of homemade Christmas biscuits which she placed onto the bed.
The three of them took a biscuit each and slowly bit into them. They savoured the taste of Christmas as it filled their mouths and tiny bits of biscuit sprinkled onto the bed. At any other time of the year, Mémé would have had a fit because of the crumbs but on Christmas day she turned a blind eye.
Granddad Benjamin continued to prod Ursula with the present until she took it from him. As she unwrapped it, she felt she knew what the paper was hiding. The card game she had been imagining fell from the paper and into her lap. It was called Mugins. They read the instructions carefully, dealt the cards and played until the sun rose while eating the delicious biscuits. After the last one had been eaten Mémé handed the mysterious envelope back to Ursula.
Using his Swiss army knife, Eric slit open the envelope. Inside it, he found a card with flashing LED lights on a snowy Christmas tree. As he cautiously opened it ‘Oh Tannenbaum’ started to play in horrible tinny beeps. Immediately Eric slammed it shut, pulled the wires out from the card’s battery and silently opened it again. His father’s messy handwriting took up one side of the card, and a concerned Eric began to read.
Dear Eric,
We are having a wonderful time sailing around all these nice hot countrys and we are now in Dubai. At times the seas can be very bouncey but your mother has learned what to do and is staying in bed. I am pleased to be writing that it is infrequently that she is doing this.
