Alien Virus

by Steve Howrie

  So it was with Frank – who now was officially Steve Saunders.

  Frank smiled at himself in the mirror in the hospital: he was happy with his choice. A decent body – an athletic twenty-eight year old with jet black hair, brown eyes and rugged features. The only damage was from an overdose of sleeping pills – taken in a successful suicide attempt after the death of his wife and child in a tragic fire. Frank was glad that he didn’t have to endure the tortuous thoughts and emotions that Steve Saunders had lived through before taking his own life. Memories always left the body with the soul, and Frank’s knowledge of Steve’s life would be pieced together by what he read in the newspapers and conversations with the nurses at the hospital. But amnesia after the trauma of the death of his family was perfectly understandable in his case, so Frank was never worried about doing too much research into the former inhabitant’s life.

  But staying in hospital for long was not on Frank’s agenda. For one thing, the virus was rife in there, as it was in most hospitals these days. It may go under many names: MRSA, Staphylococcus Aureus, Salmonella, or E-Coli, but it was merely the same virus under different guises. Now, as Steve Saunders, he had work to do: he could not rest until the virus was defeated.

  *

  After our earth–shattering night in the Bothy Bar with Tony, we couldn’t think about Frank in the same way again. We couldn’t even call him ‘Frank’, I suppose. Who was he – where was he? And where were the others of his kind? Tony said there were thousands. Did he know any more of them? As I lay next to Kate in the Kirkwall Hotel, I couldn’t get that evening out of my mind.

  “Kate – are you awake?” I whispered. It was three am, but I had to talk.

  She groaned softly, her face towards her pillow.

  “What is it? I’m so tired Kevin…”

  “I’m sorry, but I need to talk, Kate. I can’t get over last night.”

  “Go ahead,” she groaned, “but you’ll have to talk to yourself,” and with a deep sigh she tried to go back to sleep.

  “Katie – I’ve got to ask you something.” She sighed deeply again, but didn’t answer. “I need to know if you believed everything that Tony told us tonight.”

  “No, of course not – he’s bonkers,” she groaned. With that, she fell into a deep sleep. I nodded to myself. Kate was a scientist – and what Tony told us that night was more science fiction than science. But astronomers were already admitting that life on other planets, in other galaxies or Universes, was far more likely than not. And if life did exist beyond our own solar system, we’re not talking about one or two life–forms – they’d be millions. The chances of all of them being less evolved than Man must be practically zero – when you think of how humans have treated each other, other animals, and their planet in general. And if there is more intelligent life than Man, it must follow that it would achieve intergalactic travel in some form or another eventually.

  *

  The next day, I was woken with a call from Sandi: she wanted to talk to me – to find out what I thought about Tony’s incredible revelations. So I left Kate sleeping and arranged to meet Sandi for breakfast at Trennabies.

  “Do you recall my Aunt Penny?” she asked me as I sipped my coffee.

  “You mean the one that went all religious?” I said.

  “Yes, that one. The reason she became a Buddhist was her experience during an operation. She went in for a hip replacement, but it went horribly wrong. Some mix–up with the oxygen and anaesthetic – you know the sort of thing that can happen in hospitals.” I nodded. “Anyway, she died on the operating table – flat lined, as they say, for a full three minutes. Then, miraculously, she recovered. Brain activity returned, heart restarted. Fortunately she suffered no brain damage – just a loss of feeling in her left arm for a few weeks. But the biggest effect was on her personality. She really was a different person after that.” I put down my coffee and thought about this for a moment, letting it sink in.

  “Are you saying that your Aunt Penny’s body could have been taken over – by an alien force?” Sandi considered for a moment.

  “No, I don’t think I’m saying that.”

  “What then?”

  “I don’t think we are our bodies – I think we just inhabit them for a time on Earth, then leave to go somewhere else. I don’t believe that once you’re dead, that’s it – big void, no thoughts, nothing… cease to exist. There’s no point in that – it doesn’t make sense. There’s got to be some purpose to life, and though I can’t say I believe everything Tony told us last night, it’s a lot more credible than what you hear from any religion.”

  “What about Tony’s story about the body in the medical school?”

  “A good one for Halloween!” We both smiled. It was good to know my friendship with Sandi had not been killed off by my closeness to Kate.

  “How did Gareth react to Tony’s ‘Frank’s an alien’ story? He didn’t say much at the time.”

  “I think he took it quite hard. Having spent a few days with Gareth, I know how much he looked up to Frank. It was always, ‘Frank said this, or Frank did that.’ It was a big shock to find out that Frank isn’t actually Frank at all – he’s an alien!”

  Then a thought struck me. “What about Audrey?”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s Frank’s mother. Do you think she knows who he really is? Assuming that what Tony told us is true, of course.” Sandi sat back in her chair.

  “God – that’s a point. I hadn’t thought of that.” We’ll have to ask Tony.

  “Where is Tony, by the way?”

  “Oh, he’s gone back to the Bothy bar for another drink with Gareth. They wanted to try another Orkney beer before we left.”

  “It’s only ten in the morning!”

  “That’s Gareth for you.”

  *

  Gareth and Tony were seating close to the open log fire in the Bothy Bar, nursing pints of ‘Skullsplitter’. Tony knew that Gareth always thought the world of Frank, and wanted to help him to come to terms with the bombshell he’d dropped the previous night.

  “What do you think about it?” Tony asked, having taken a sip of his brew. Gareth nodded slowly.

  “Not bad. Not quite as smooth as the one last night. That was fucking brilliant.”

  “It didn’t leave a bitter taste?” Tony asked.

  “Now you come to mention it, it was hard to swallow at first.”

  “But at the end? Was it a beer you could believe in?”

  “Frankly speaking?” replied Gareth.

  “Yes,” Tony smiled.

  “Well, I’d always thought there was something ‘other worldly’ about Frank. I’d put it down to him being a microbiologist at the time. Did you know that I nearly followed him down to London when he left?”

  “No, I didn’t know that. What stopped you?”

  “Emily. Not that she said I shouldn’t go, or anything like that. I mean, I didn’t even tell her about Frank. It was just that I didn’t want to leave her. I liked her a lot, y’know. And I thought that Frank would come back. When he didn’t, I was very hurt. I felt like packing it all in. Then I thought of going down to London to carry on where he left off.”

  “So?”

  “Well, Kevin and Sandi came up, and I thought I was needed up here.” Gareth smiled at Tony, who smiled back.

  “I bet you did,” he replied picking up his drink. “But seriously, how do you feel about Frank now?”

  “Well, if it’s true, it’s fantastic. Unbelievable, but bloody fantastic! And I don’t see why it shouldn’t be true – it all makes sense... if you believe in aliens. Where do you think he is now Tony?”

  “I would guess still in London. There’s no way of knowing who he is, or what he’s doing now though. We’ll have to wait until he contacts us.”

  “D’you think he will?”

  “I hope he will.”

  ***

  Sixteen

  Audrey’s heart skipped a beat when she hear
d the coded knock on the front door. She tiptoed to the entrance and peered through the keyhole magnifier at the figure standing there. He was about five foot nine and wore a green parker, which covered his head. She had to be careful. She make sure the chain was in place and opened the door, looking through the crack. He pulled down his hood to reveal a shock of jet black hair.

  “It’s me mother.” She stared into his deep brown eyes – and she knew it was him. Removing the chain, she threw open the door.

  “Frank!” He grabbed her and they hugged like long lost friends.

  “It’s Steve now, Audrey,” he said.

  “Oh, I can’t keep up with all these names – you’ll still be Frank to me. Come on in and I’ll make us a drink. We need to celebrate.”

  Frank entered the living room he knew so well and removed his coat. It was always strange going back to the same old place in a different body. The first thing he always noticed was the change in height. Frank had been two inches taller. He looked at the photographs of himself.

  “You’ll have to get some new pictures,” he called into the kitchen.

  “Couldn’t you have a face–lift,” she quipped as she brought a pot of tea and biscuits into the lounge.

  Frank sat down and relaxed. It was good to see Audrey again.

  “I tried to call Tony, but it switched over to his voice mail.”

  “Probably no reception where he is – it’s not very good in Orkney.”

  “Orkney! What’s doing there?”

  “They’re all there – Tony, Kate, Gareth, Kevin and Sandi. Oh, you won’t know Sandi. But you did meet Kevin, didn’t you? He’s the reporter.” Frank had no trouble recalling Kevin. His mental processes were sharp, and his mind felt fresh and invigorated.

  “Yes – I met him in a pub in London. He wrote for a magazine…”

  “Mind2Body.”

  “Yes, that was it.”

  “Well Sandi works with Kevin in London – or used to. After your accident, they got into a bit of bother and came up here.” Audrey filled Frank in on what had happened in Edinburgh whilst he’d been away. He listened intently.

  “It sounds like a good move up to Orkney. I was listening to the news today, and the virus is pulling out all the stops.”

  “Fighting for its life,” observed Audrey.

  “Yes, could be. Anyway, we’ve got to act soon. I’ll travel up to Orkney as soon as I can.”

  “Why don’t you stay down here for a few days. Give them time to settle in – and make an old woman very happy.” He smiled and hugged her, and she kissed him on the cheek.

  *

  The next day, we took the morning ferry over to Eday. It didn’t take Tony long to realize the potential of the island. It could easily be our home – just about the perfect retreat. After a good drive around the island looking for property, we stopped off at one of the long sandy beaches on the west side and took out the sandwiches we’d brought with us.

  “So what do you think Tony. Possibilities?” I asked.

  “Absolutely,” he replied enthusiastically. Then as an afterthought, “What are the natives like?”

  I was about to admit we hadn’t met any yet, when a couple arrived in their Landrover and parked close to our vehicle on the beach.

  “Well, why don’t you ask them yourself?” I said, waving to the couple. They waved back, and walked over to where we were encamped.

  “Hi,” the woman said, “Enjoying the sun?” We all nodded.

  “And the sea air, the view, the atmosphere… and now the natives,” I replied.

  “So you’ve met the locals?” the man enquired.

  “Well, I think Kevin was referring to you two,” Sandi added. We all laughed and introduced each other.

  “Just visiting, or something more permanent?” the man asked, whom we discovered was called Harry. His partner was Joanne.

  “Possibly the latter,” replied Tony. “Do you know of anywhere available?” The couple looked at each other, and then Jo said:

  “We’ve got some self–catering chalets for rent at the north end. You’re welcome to stay there whilst you’re looking around. You really need a week or so to find out about property up here – who owns it, where the solicitor is…”

  “That sounds great,” I said. Can you accommodate us all?”

  “There’s six chalets, and five are free at the moment – so yes,” replied Harry. “We can give you a group discount.”

  After leaving the beach, we followed Harry and Jo to their chalets at the far end of Eday. They were hardly visible from the main road, which explained how Kate and I had missed them the previous time we came over to the island. Down a rough track, we turned into a car park, and there was the accommodation in front of us.

  “Cool!” exclaimed Kate. “Right next to the sea – and so private.”

  “A little oasis,” remarked Sandi. “What a find!”

  “I hope you’re comfortable here,” said Harry. We all expressed our satisfaction, as Jo whispered something in Harry’s ear. He then added, “Why don’t you come over to our place for dinner tonight? We stay near Millbay, the other side of the airport – you’ll be very welcome.” We all looked to Tony.

  “That would be very kind of you,” he said. “What time would you like us there?”

  “We usually eat at seven. Say six thirty?”

  “That’ll be lovely,” replied Sandi.

  *

  Harry and Jo showed us our chalets, explaining how everything worked, then left us to settle in. The rooms were bright and clean, and made us feel very comfortable straight away. Kate and I shared one Chalet, Sandi and Gareth another, and Tony had another to himself.

  When we were on our own, Kate jumped on the kingsize bed and smiled wickedly.

  “Mmm… a lovely big bed for me… where are you going to sleep Kevin?”

  “I’ll show you,” I said tying her down to the covers with a bit of arm–wrestling. “But I wasn’t thinking of sleeping…”

  *

  Harry and Jo lived in a two–storey house next to Millbay on the east side of the island. The house lay in a slight valley and had views across the bay to neighbouring Sanday. The couple grew their own vegetables in poly–tunnels adjoining the house, and seemed to be pretty self–sufficient.

  The house was beautifully kept and they obviously took great pride in everything they did. Despite the rough and ruggedness of island life, they maintained a very civilized standard of life and obviously loved Eday.

  “It’s great here – we love it,” said Harry as we sat in their lounge–cum–dining room overlooking Millbay. “We both worked our arses off for twenty years in London. Made loads of money…”

  “And enjoyed the money,” added Jo as she brought in bowls of steaming hot home–made vegetable soup.”

  “It’s true, we did. But there were costs. Always up early and back late. Okay, we had a lovely house, great cars, and holidays in the sun…”

  “When we had time,” observed Jo.

  “Yeah – and that was just the thing. We both loved the countryside, the outdoor life, growing things – being close to nature. But we just didn’t have time for that. Then we came up to Orkney one summer…”

  “My mum had taken a coach tour up here, and she raved about it,” explained Jo. Harry nodded.

  “Orkney wasn’t a place we’d ever really consider for a holiday. But June was so excited by it, we just had to go. Took a flight from Heathrow to Edinburgh, then a small plane to Kirkwall.”

  “It was like stepping into another world,” smiled Jo, recalling that day.

  “Yeah, it really was,” agreed Harry holding Jo’s hand. “And the rest was history, as they say.”

  Dinner was great. We’d told them we didn’t eat any animal products, which wasn’t a problem at all. Both of them were practically Vegans.

  “When we first came here, we found ourselves closer to animals than we’d ever been in our lives…” explained Harry. “We were very much city
folk in London, and big meat eaters in London. After about a week after we arrived on Eday, we were invited round for dinner by a farmer neighbour, and he said: ‘Hope you enjoy the beef – I had the bull killed ‘specially for you.’”

  Jo recoiled at the memory. “We’d seen it running around in his field just the day before,” she explained. “So the day after the dinner, I said to Harry, ‘That’s it, no more meat for me, thank you very much.’ And neither of us went back to it.” They looked at each other and smiled fondly. They were clearly very much in love. We enjoyed their company, and I think they enjoyed ours. From the way they talked, it seemed they didn’t get much opportunity to meet like–minded people.

  After we’d worked our way through three courses of delicious home–made food, Harry turned to me.

  “So what brings you up to Orkney, Kevin? Had enough of the Rat Race too?” I didn’t want to say too much at this stage. Despite the friendliness and apparent openness of Harry and Jo, we really didn’t know much about them. For all we knew, they could be carriers of the virus – though I did doubt it. I told him about my work with the magazine, and that Sandi worked with me, and then fabricated a story about meeting Tony, Kate and Gareth when writing a story on the health of academics. It was only a slight diversion from the truth, and the others backed up my story, knowing I was being cautious. But then something strange happened. Jo looked me straight in the eye and said:

  “And what made you go into journalism, Kevin? What were you doing before Fleet Street came calling?” I went completely blank. There was just nothing there. I searched my memories for a clue, but nothing. Everyone was looking at me quizzically.” Eventually Tony said,

  “There you are Kevin, I always said you were a born journalist. Straight from the womb to the front page – nothing in between.” Everyone laughed, and I smiled – but only to try to cover up my embarrassment.”

  At the end of the night, we said goodbye and thanked Harry and Jo for a lovely evening – promising to call again soon. On the way back to the chalets, I had only one thought on my mind: I had to talk to Sandi. I made the excuse to Kate that I needed to get a phone number from Sandi’s mobile, and knocked on the door of her chalet.