by V. E. Lemp
Ariel scrutinized Karen. “You were in love?”
“Yes. Yes, we were. But that was over long ago.” Karen leaned back against the sofa cushions.
“Not for him, I think,” Ariel said gravely.
Karen closed her eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“Because the messages I’m receiving aren’t about things from the past. The emotions feel like something happening now.”
It was as if a weight settled on her chest. “Do they?” Karen shot a swift glance at Ariel. “Maybe it’s all a bit garbled. He’s quite far away, you know.”
Ariel looked puzzled. “Is he? Because I don’t sense that anymore. I used to, but now …”
Karen straightened. “But now?”
“It doesn’t feel the same.”
Karen stared at the girl for a moment. “And these messages—what are they?”
“It’s hard to explain. I pick up feelings more than anything else. It’s like the sender is so confused or emotional or something, I can’t really figure out the exact words. Although …” A faint blush tinted Ariel’s pale cheeks. “Some of it’s kind of …personal. I don’t think I’m supposed to be hearing these thoughts. I think I’m just receiving them because they’re so strong and because, somehow, you and I are connected.”
A door opened. Karen turned her head to watch Mark and Myron enter the room from the patio. “Ariel,” she said quickly, “I hope you can block out at least some of these random thoughts. Do you have any way to do that?”
“I can work on it with one of Dad’s friends, but not until I get back to New York.”
“Then I’d suggest you just ignore these particular messages as best you can,” Karen said as Mark approached the sofa. “While I see if I can do anything to help.”
“Help with what?” Mark asked.
Heat rose in Karen’s face. “Oh, I might need to do a little lucid dreaming to assist Ariel with something.”
“Really?” Mark raised his eyebrows. “What might that be?”
“I’d like to keep that between Ariel and me, if you don’t mind.”
“No, that’s fine. I’m sure if it’s important you’ll eventually tell me.” Mark gave Karen a look. Great. She was definitely going to be questioned about this conversation later.
“I’m all right.” Ariel met her father’s concerned gaze. “Don’t worry.”
Myron shook his head. “I always worry. That’s my job.”
Ariel grinned. “And you do it so well.”
Karen opened her mouth to speak but was startled into silence by a series of loud knocks.
“That must be Sam. I’ll get it, Mary,” Myron called out as he headed for the front door.
“Who’s Sam?” Karen stood and crossed to stand near Mark.
“Samuel Lester,” Mark said. “Myron was just telling me about him. He used to work at some secret government installation.”
“Really? Was it here at Archuleta Mesa? I thought you said there was nothing to that story.”
Mark glanced at her and shrugged. “I’ve been proven wrong before.”
“Sam contacted Dad as soon as we arrived,” Ariel said. “He’s followed Dad’s research on UFOs through our website. When he read we were coming to Dulce to cover the recent sightings, Sam emailed Dad to set up a meeting.”
“So you’ve met him?” Mark asked.
“Yes, and I think he’s telling the truth. At least that’s the sense I get.”
“And you’ve answered my next question,” Mark said. “Well, that’s interesting.”
Myron walked back into the room followed by a stocky, well-muscled man who appeared to be in his late thirties. Karen noticed the stranger had the bearing of a soldier, and his black hair was cut close to his scalp, military fashion. The man’s eyes, a striking tea-brown several shades lighter than his skin, surveyed Karen and Mark with curiosity.
“This is Samuel Lester.” Myron introduced Karen and Mark. “The Hallams are deeply involved in our efforts to expose Exocorp and the Oneiroi.”
“Always a pleasure to meet others dedicated to the same mission.” Samuel Lester’s words were clearly enunciated and pronounced with a tone of command, as if he were accustomed to giving orders.
“Sam was once assigned to an installation in Montana,” Myron said. “Not one I’ve ever heard rumors about, which is odd, but I don’t know everything.”
“A military man, then, Mr. Lester?” Mark asked.
“Yes, at one time. And please, call me Sam. Mr. Lester always makes me think of my father.”
“And when you were in the military you were Sergeant Lester? Or Lieutenant?”
“Sergeant. But I don’t use that title anymore, Mr. Hallam.”
“Mark. And I think you’d better call my wife Karen instead of Mrs. Hallam. She hates being viewed as my appendage.” Mark flashed Karen a brief grin.
“Karen is one of the original Morpheus Project subjects,” Myron explained. “She worked for Vance for a time and is quite familiar with his activities.”
“And she can communicate with the Oneiroi through dreams.” Ariel’s fervent tone indicated she thought this a marvelous talent.
Sam looked Karen up and down. “Really? I’ve heard something of that project but never met anyone involved with it.”
“Well, now you’ve met two people,” Mark said. “I was the government liaison for the original project. That’s how Karen and I met, years ago.”
“Thought you were a government man. I’d take a guess as to which agency, but perhaps that’s not welcome?”
“I’d rather you not. And I doubt you actually could guess, to tell you the truth.”
“I sure as hell haven’t been able to,” Karen muttered, “and I’m married to him.”
Mark grinned. “So, Sam, you say you worked at an installation connected somehow with our alien visitors?”
“Yes. Can we sit?”
“Of course, of course,” Myron said. “Please sit down everyone. No need to stand on ceremony.”
Karen took a seat on the sofa between Ariel and Mark. Myron pulled two of the room’s other seats closer to the sofa and gestured Sam toward one of them.
“Sam’s told me,” Myron said, as he sat in the other chair, “he was assigned to the Montana installation about ten years ago. He had no idea what to expect when he arrived and no real interest, or belief, in anything to do with UFOs or extraterrestrial beings.”
“No belief at all. I thought I was going to be working with experimental weaponry. I mean, I knew I was assigned to an installation with the highest possible security clearance, so I expected to encounter some surprising secrets. But what I found”—Sam spread out his hands—“was so far beyond anything I imagined, I was shocked to the core.”
“And that was?” Mark’s stillness betrayed his interest in the answer.
“That we were actually guarding a site where a company called Exocorp and … others were engaged in some highly irregular research. At least I felt it to be highly irregular. I’m not certain my entire unit felt the same, but there were enough of us disturbed by this research that we decided to bring it to the attention of our superiors.”
“Who did nothing,” Mark said.
“Who did nothing.” Sam stared at Mark quizzically. “You already know all this, don’t you?”
“I’ve heard something of it.” Mark leaned back against the sofa cushions and placed his arm around Karen’s shoulders.
Karen reached up to cover Mark’s hand with her own. “This research, did it involve beings not of this world? Machines, perhaps? Or something else?”
“There were machines. Robots, I suppose you could say. Or, what is it? Androids. Something like that. They looked like all those typical depictions of aliens. You know, little gray men? But there were also some more human-looking beings. You wouldn’t know that they weren’t human, really, except for their eyes.”
Karen frowned. “Those are their avatars. Created and controlled by the beings Ian
Vance has termed the ‘Oneiroi.’ Though that isn’t their real name.”
Sam stared at Karen in a way that made her press closer to Mark’s side. “It isn’t? That’s how all the Exocorp staff referred to them.”
“I was told it wasn’t, and by someone who knows.”
Ariel’s eyes appeared too large for her face. “Were they experimenting on humans?”
“Yes. At least I believe they were. I saw people brought in …” Sam glanced at Ariel. “Perhaps I shouldn’t go into detail. Suffice to say the Exocorp staff seemed to be aiding and abetting this experimentation, although they didn’t participate in it directly. They did let the abductees go, eventually, but I felt that wasn’t enough to excuse what they were doing. Our own kind …” He closed his eyes for a second, as if to gather his thoughts. “That was the worst of it, you know. Human beings allowing this to happen to other humans. Assisting in this terrible practice, with no apparent sense of guilt or remorse.”
“It’s been done before,” Myron said thoughtfully, “and without alien participation.”
“Yes, I know. But as I told you before, Myron, I couldn’t tolerate the idea. I was under orders, but I couldn’t continue to stand by and do nothing.”
“So you took action? Is that why you’re no longer in the military?” Karen asked.
Sam lowered his head and stared at his hands. “No, I didn’t act then. I should have, I know that now. But I was too well trained … Anyway, I served out my assignment, and when it came time for me to re-up, I just didn’t. I decided to expose them, but not from within the military. I couldn’t do that. I guess I had too much respect for the service to use my position that way. Although now”—he met Karen’s gaze—“I wonder if I did the right thing.” His light-brown eyes were shadowed with pain.
“We all have doubts,” Myron said. “I often feel I should have taken more drastic action before this. I’ve always told myself I needed more evidence before I took that last step, but perhaps it was really fear. I don’t know. I do know I’m ready to take a giant leap now. I’m hoping you, as well as Karen and Mark, and others, are willing to assist me.”
“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can,” Sam said.
Mark was watching Myron with concern. “What exactly are you planning?”
The older man straightened in his chair. “I’m creating a file. An extensive digital video file that includes interviews with people like Sam, or you and Karen, or abductees like Lee Oshima. It’ll have as much factual information and visual footage as I can assemble. I want it to be hard-hitting and very solid. Undeniable proof.”
“There’s no such thing,” Mark said.
“Perhaps not, but I plan to make this video as clear and logical as possible.” Myron rose and paced the floor, gesturing as if he were presenting one of his lectures. “No hysterics or over-the-top sweeping pronouncements. No speculation, just whatever facts I can assemble. It may be disputed or denied— in fact I’m certain it will be—but I hope it will also plant a seed in the minds of everyone who sees it. I want to make them wonder and question and perhaps think for themselves.”
Mark stared intently at Myron. “And exactly how is this video to be distributed?”
Myron stopped pacing. “Elena Charles, who you just met, is more than a young woman who’s befriended my daughter. She’s also an abductee. She traveled here from the West Coast and sought us out to offer her assistance to our cause. She’s only nineteen, but she possesses a unique talent.”
“She’s a hacker,” Mark said. It was not a question.
Karen glanced at her husband and noted the conflicted expression on his face.
Myron was also watching Mark closely. “Yes.”
“You’re going to broadcast this video?” Karen asked. “Something more than just posting it on your website?”
“Yes. We’re creating a virus to carry the video across the internet. If it works the way Elena’s promised, it’ll take over a substantial portion of sites for a short time. And then disappear. But not before it’s saved and downloaded and uploaded and shared as much as possible.” Myron sat back down, still watching Mark’s face.
“Interesting,” Mark said.
“I hope you’ll not feel compelled to report this to your superiors.”
Mark sighed. “I’ll have to think about how to handle that. I may have to provide them with some cryptic information, or they’ll question why I had no knowledge of this activity before the fact. That would blow my cover, and I’d be of no use to your cause in the future. But,” he added, as Myron opened his mouth as if to frame a protest, “if I phrase things properly they’ll probably ignore the warning. They’ve done so before.”
Myron spread out his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’ll leave it to your judgment. I know you have the experience to back your decisions.”
“One never knows. But I think I can manage to protect you and appease my bosses. If not”—Mark shrugged—“I’ll err on the side of protecting your efforts. That’s the higher priority.”
“Thank you,” Myron said.
“Yes, very good of you,” Sam said. “I know what it’s like to worry about endangering your career for this cause.”
Mark shook his head. “I’m not being totally self-sacrificing. I have vested interests in this matter. My niece, Amy, for one. She was abducted, you see. And of course, there’s Karen.”
Karen sat up, dislodging Mark’s arm from her shoulders. “What about me?”
Mark looked at her, his eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses. “The harm done to you, and your friends, through the Morpheus Project. Also, Ian Vance has always wanted to reclaim you. To force you to work for him at Exocorp. We still have that concern hanging over us.”
“I don’t think that’s so important anymore. He must know I’d never return.”
“Not willingly, anyway. Which is what actually concerns me.”
“You think he’d kidnap Karen?” Ariel’s gray eyes were wide with concern.
“It’s possible. But I do try to keep an eye out for any possible danger. Don’t worry. I won’t allow Ian Vance or anyone else to harm Karen.” Mark gave Ariel an encouraging smile, the kind of smile he offered Amy when she spoke of the fear of being abducted again. As with Amy, Mark’s air of confidence appeared to reassure Ariel.
“So, Karen,” Sam said, “you’ve spoken with these aliens directly?”
“Directly? No, not exactly.” Karen leaned forward until she was sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Though I’ve spoken to a few of them through their avatars. And I’ve communicated with others through my dreams. That’s why Vance wants me, you see—as a conduit for their information. And to use my artistic talent. In the past I was able to receive messages from the Oneiroi and draw objects and technological specifications Exocorp used to create cutting-edge technology. New products for the market, which made Vance and his backers very rich. Recently, I’ve learned how to talk back, using lucid-dreaming techniques. I don’t do it often, though.” She sank back against the cushions. “It isn’t necessarily something I enjoy.”
A car’s engine rumbled outside. Karen shifted in her seat. “I think Elena and Will are back. Maybe we shouldn’t say anything more right now? I don’t like too many people knowing about my dreams.”
“That’s probably wise,” Myron said. “I did want you to meet Sam and hear about my current plans, but I realize you’ve just arrived. No doubt you’d like some time to yourselves? I’m sure Mary will invite you back for dinner, and I do want you to see our UFO activity as soon as possible, but we should call it a night. I’ll phone you tomorrow to set up another time to talk. I do appreciate you both coming out here.”
“Actually, I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” Mark stood. “You’re an assignment, Myron.”
“Really?” Myron’s intelligent gray eyes examined Mark. “So you were sent to spy on me?”
“Yes, and I’ll do so,” Mark said, with a brief smile. “I’m supposed to prete
nd to support your cause. The fact I actually do simply makes my job a little easier.”
“A convenient assignment then,” Sam said, as Karen gave Ariel a swift hug and moved close to Mark.
“It is. Although I’ll confess it took a little wrangling to obtain it without looking suspicious.” Mark crossed to Myron and Sam and offered both men firm handshakes.
“My husband,” Karen told Sam, as she walked to the front hall, “possesses some unique skills.”
“Apparently. A good man to keep around.” Sam spoke with obvious admiration.
“Well, I certainly think so,” Karen said, and was rewarded with a passionate kiss as soon as they stepped outside, shocking Will and Elena into almost dropping two bags of groceries.
Dream Journal, June 8th:
I stood in a forest clearing. A sound filled the air—the steady fall of water over rocks, like a rush of wings.
“You come to this place often, don’t you, Alex?” I asked, sensing his presence behind me.
“It brings back good memories. Don’t you agree?”
“Memories, anyway.” I turned to face him. He stood at the edge of the clearing, his face shadowed by the heavy foliage above his head.
“Karen, why have you called me here?”
“I didn’t bring you to this place. I only reached out to speak with you, wherever you are.”
He stepped forward. “So where would you meet with me?”
I closed my eyes. When I opened them we were standing in a bare white room. “Here. Where there are no masks or disguises.”
Those brilliant aquamarine eyes studied my face.
“You’ve developed some interesting skills recently.” His beautiful lips curved in a smile.
“So I’ve been told.” I stared at him, realizing he looked the same as when I’d last seen him in this form, over ten years ago. “I suspect you’ve changed, Alex, as I have.”
“But your mind has no image of that. You must see me as you remember me.”
“Unless you allow me to see you otherwise.”
“Ah, but even I’m not so sure of that. The Oneiroi have no use for mirrors.”
