The Prometheus Effect

by Jonathan Davison

  Coffey waited until the team had returned safely to the shuttle and gotten out of their suits. Corrigan led them into the cockpit and they began to ready themselves for re-entry.

  “What the fuck is going on here? Why don't you people talk to me?”

  There was a cool silence as none of the crew felt the need to answer him with any haste. Finally Mahindra answered, she was the dark skinned Science Officer who had been short with him from the start.

  “What do you want us to say?” She asked obtusely.

  “Well, I'm pretty sure that something is seriously amiss here and I am obviously the only one who is out of the loop. Is anyone going to give me an explanation why we just dumped a billion dollars worth of hardware on a crash course for the Pacific?”

  There was another silence as the team did not care to look at the enraged navigator and began their re-entry check-lists.

  “Is this some kind of 'need to know' bullshit mission, if so, just say and I’ll shut my mouth.”

  Mahindra looked up and spoke sharply.

  “You said it, now get your shit together Commander.”

  Coffey slumped down on his seat. He might expect something like this in the military but he had never been wilfully kept in the dark on a space flight before. It was hard to believe that NASA would send up a crew that were all working from a different page. Coffey signalled to Kallowitz to strap him in and he obliged in rough style. Being left out in the cold was one thing but the open hostility was something else. For the first time in his career as an astronaut, Coffey wanted with all of his heart to be back home. Back on Earth, back to Florida.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Royal Standard Hotel, Islington

  19:39 November 11th 2020

  Joshua sat on a plush brown leather sofa in the quiet lounge bar of his hotel. Supping a Gin and Tonic, he clutched a small digital Dictaphone which he had set to record at the push of a button. He intended to secrete it in a loose pocket somewhere on Jimmy's arrival. He wanted Jimmy to be open with him and feel at ease. Shoving a recording device in his face was not the way to go. Indeed, it was unlikely that they would stay in the public bar. Joshua's room was spacious and contained a nice seating arrangement around a tray of tea and coffee making facilities.

  Joshua grew concerned that Jimmy had stood him up. Joshua's punctuality was legendary and thus many had fallen foul of his high standards in the past. The reporter had to give him some leeway though, the London traffic was always bad. If it was not road works then it was an accident.

  Joshua perked up as he caught a glimpse of a very sheepish looking man peering through the large windowed fascia. A brief wave was enough to confirm he had got to the right location and as he walked in, Joshua realised that Jimmy had gone to some length to ensure that his usually bedraggled appearance was cast off in favour of a leisure suit jacket and some corduroy slacks.

  “Looking good Jimmy.” Joshua said as he stood to greet his source.

  “Well, I don’t come to these posh places very often. Thought I’d make an effort.”

  Joshua shook Jimmy's hand firmly and asked him what he would like to drink. Jimmy hesitated as if embarrassed by his regular brew.

  “A pint of bitter please.”

  “Any particular?”

  “Nah, anything thanks.”

  Joshua watched Jimmy from the bar. He could not help but feel sorry for the cabby, he was indeed a fish out of water and he fidgeted incessantly on the luxurious chair as if he felt he did not deserve the privilege to sit there.

  Joshua placed the frothing vessel before Jimmy who swiftly whipped it from his grasp and chugged a third of the glass before Joshua had the chance to sit back down.

  “I'm very glad you came. It sounds like you have quite a story to tell. I just want you to know that at this stage I’m just gathering information. I can't guarantee anything you say will be put into print, however, if you are OK with it, I may use your account in detail, is that alright with you?”

  Jimmy nodded, never looking away from his pint. Joshua could detect his unease and decided to take it easy at first.

  “So Jimmy, You've been a taxi driver for a long time then?”

  “Yup.” The answer was short and to the point but Joshua would need more than monosyllabic answers to his questions if he were to progress. Joshua tactically altered his tack.

  “I bet your taxi cab was a bit different when you started out eh?”

  “Hmm, yes, very different. Drove like a tank, cold, uncomfortable ride, although that never bothered me. I'm into classic cars from the 60's and 70's, they didn’t have air conditioning in those days did they?”

  Joshua smiled and nodded. He knew that at heart, Jimmy was a conversationalist, all he needed to do was dissipate the nervousness. Joshua decided then that he would not even mention the reason why he was there until after dinner and a couple more drinks. Best to fill Jimmy's stomach then tackle the issue at hand.

  Jimmy certainly took Joshua's hospitality and ran with it. Unable to resist the mixed grill, Jimmy chose the most expensive meal on the menu and then gorged himself on a platter of well cooked meats whilst washing them down with a quantity of ale. Joshua hoped that the end product would be worth the hit to his pocket, he was not on expenses yet. As the beer flowed and the desert menu was offered, Joshua could barely get a word in edgeways as Jimmy bent his ear about the state of the London highways, taxi politics and a dispute with his neighbour concerning a tree that overhang his garden fence. Joshua knew that if he didn't get him upstairs soon that he would talk, eat or drink himself into a stupor and be a lame duck in terms of a productive interview.

  One chocolate torte later, Joshua invited Jimmy to his room with the enticing lure of a bottle of single malt which the journalist had cleverly bought earlier. Jimmy came across as a good fellow, not the brightest but the 'salt of the earth', a well meaning loner who had seen better days. As the taxi driver swirled the pungent whiskey around in the glass, he looked up to the ceiling, his eyes were glazed. Joshua could tell that this was going to be a big ask on Jimmy, he had obviously been emotionally traumatised by his experience in whatever manner it transpired. Joshua pulled his striped tie away from his collar and took a seat opposite. The room suddenly fell unnervingly quiet as they realised they were at the business end of the evening.

  “I know that you're not going to believe a word I tell you.” Jimmy started. Joshua expected this, his subject was not wrong. Joshua was always sceptical to begin with and offered the chance to be proven incorrect rather than the other way round.

  “Obviously I have to begin with an open mind. It is up to you to convince me that your telling the truth, I can't help you with that. I would not have invited you over if I did not believe you had something important to share would I?” Joshua tried to remain open to suggestion.

  Jimmy started slowly at first. His explanation was erratic, he would jump forward and backward in time, his recollection of times and dates was poor yet Joshua could soon tell that this event had been impactive on the cabby to the point that it had altered the way he led his life. Jimmy had become fixated on anything printed or broadcast concerning UFO's, alien sightings or abductions. He had become quite an authority on the matter and Joshua suddenly felt that his knowledge on the subject was rather shallow.

  Jimmy visibly trembled as he recounted the abduction itself. His memories of the pain appeared to be a lot less vague than if he was recounting an accident or something less sinister. His description of his 'abductors' was a familiar picture, the classic 'Grey', the same image portrayed across the globe in media, video games, literature and comic books. Joshua certainly had the feeling that Jimmy was being truthful, at least as far as he genuinely believed what he was reporting one hundred percent. To fake the emotions which he displayed in recalling the horror would take a piece of acting genius seen only in the best Shakespearean theatres. By the climax of his story, Joshua was transfixed by the compelling account and had many questions. Jimmy was vi
sibly exhausted by the release and wisely, the journalist called a brief halt to the interview and called down to reception for a couple of stiff espresso’s. Joshua was not overly enamoured by the instant coffee sachets provided in his room.

  “You never expect it, you never think it could happen to you. I wish for one moment you could have been there and felt what I felt and saw what I saw. You would never be the same person again. Ever.”

  Jimmy wheezed as he lay his head back, sniffing hard to relieve his airways. Joshua nodded as if acknowledging Jimmy's statement as a truth but he was still not convinced. A knock on the door briefly broke the tension and Joshua jumped up to accept his room service.

  The porter entered the room holding a small brown tray and asked where the occupant would like him to deposit the small but pungent vessels of ground beans and water. Joshua pointed to the small table in front of Jimmy who was still slung low in his chair, his eyes reddened and watery. As the porter carefully placed the tray upon the table, Jimmy's eyes opened wide and he leapt bolt upright in his seat. He suddenly looked confused, panicked and alert. The porter noticed Jimmy's odd behaviour and looked over to Joshua for some kind of reassurance. Joshua could not offer any, his interviewee had suddenly taken on the appearance of a cowering, caged animal.

  “Are you OK Jimmy?” Joshua inquired with some concern.

  Jimmy did not answer, he fixed his gaze at the porter and looked him up and down with a terrified expression upon his face. Joshua could see that something was very wrong.

  “Jimmy. Jimmy. What's the matter?”

  Jimmy looked over to Joshua, his face scrunched up into a wrinkled mass and he breathed rapidly, obviously in some kind of shock.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God. He's one of them.”

  Jimmy ranted in between shallow and fast breaths. The porter suddenly felt very uneasy and backed off, Joshua moved in between the two in case anything unexpected were to happen.

  “One of what? No he isn’t, he's just the porter bringing you some coffee. Look, it's coffee, he's the porter.”

  “No. They've come back for me!” Jimmy whined loudly enough to have caused passing guests to pin their ear to the door to figure out what was happening.

  “What makes you think that? Tell me so that I can understand!”

  At this point, the porter was making his excuses to leave but to Jimmy's horror, Joshua demanded he stayed for a moment. It was this natural curiosity which separated the average man on the street from an award winning investigative journalist.

  “The smell. That smell. I know it, I know it.”

  Joshua was perplexed, there was no particular aroma in the room, the porter had a slight fragrance, a musky aftershave at the most. He was not odorous in the slightest. The porter remained silent but visibly annoyed at the accusation. He was a young man in his twenties, very smartly attired, he obvious took a pride in his appearance.

  “I don't smell anything Jimmy.” Joshua reiterated much to the exasperation of the cabby who brought his hands to his head in frustration.

  “The smell. He stinks of them, I can smell it!”

  Turning to the porter, Joshua used his hands to calm the young man who was visibly disturbed by the extraordinary performance of the old man.

  “Your aftershave, what is it?” He inquired.

  “Err, I don't know mate, something my mum bought me for Christmas.” The porter stuttered.

  “What brand is it?” Joshua continued, hoping to bring the whole spectacle to an end.

  “It's called err, 'Legion', it's some fancy stuff from Paris, my mum bought it for me from Paris! Dunno who it's made by. I don't even like it but my girlfriend thinks it nice. Can I go now?” The porter looked as if he was about to cry and Joshua put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a tenner then shoved it in the young man's palm.

  “Sorry. Have a good evening.”

  Joshua ushered the lad out of the door and closed it firmly behind him. Looking back, Jimmy was weeping, his head buried in his hands.

  “You have a good sense of smell my friend, but I don't think you can sniff out an alien yet.” Joshua tried to lighten the mood.

  “No. NO! That smell is real. It was there, it brought it all back to me, every detail, the fear, it all came back to me in that instant.” Jimmy was insistent and Joshua could not help but be convinced by the unusual outpouring of emotion.

  “But Jimmy, can you not see what this might mean? Since when did alien life forms wear tacky Eau de toilette from some French department store. I have no doubts that fragrance could be connected to your experience somehow, but in many ways, it brings about a lot of questions regarding the incident itself.”

  Jimmy inhaled deeply and snorted up some dripping mucous from his nose.

  “So you don't believe me...I can live with that.”

  Joshua sighed and sat down in a tired slump.

  “I believe you had a traumatising experience. I can see that, the porter could see that. However, I can't rule out that this was some kind of sadistic prank by a group of medical students wearing alien costumes either. It is all very...confusing.”

  “It's OK, I understand. Just be thankful that you're not the one who has to live with it for the rest of your life... I think I’ll be going now.”

  Jimmy rose and then fell back down, both the alcohol and emotional tiredness taking its toll.

  “Just sit tight my friend, I will arrange for a taxi.”

  Joshua sat on the bed and picked up the phone. He looked back at Jimmy, he was a wreck. Despite all his reservations, there was something so disturbingly compelling about Jimmy and his story that he began to question his own scepticism. It was an experience that he would not forget for some time. It was an interview which would leave a thoroughly lasting impression.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kennedy Space Centre, Florida

  November 13th 2020

  Coffey sat in the lounge sipping a strong blend of Colombian beans. Unlike the other crew members, he was not married nor did he have children to greet him on his return. The only one who would yearn his return would be his English Bulldog 'Buzz' who would no doubt be beside himself with joy at his masters presence after a number of days way.

  The lounge was empty. Forty of fifty chairs filled the large open space arranged in groups of four. A vast window overlooked an expanse of green grass, blue waters and in between, launch platforms 39A and B. The weather was fine but not too hot, it was a good day with which to come back to Earth.

  “Good job up there.” A voice came from behind Coffey, a familiar voice. It was the Director of Operations, Bill Janus. A small, grey suited man with a tuft of white hair and round spectacles, he sat as Roger Coffey acknowledged his presence. Bill Janus was not a close friend but a trusted and respected man within the NASA set up. Coffey instantly recognised that this was probably not going to be a chat about the weather.

  “Morning Bill.” Coffey said warmly.

  “It's the afternoon if you hadn't noticed. Good to see you. Enjoying the tranquillity?” Janus sat and picked up the coaster on the table and ran his fingers around it as if they were orbiting the object like a satellite.

  “Sure. You would think that in space you would get some peace and quiet, but it doesn't work that way.”

  “I wouldn't know.” Janus smiled. He had never been up and like many others, were envious.

  “Let me get to the point Roger.”

  Coffey raised his eyebrows, he knew this was not a social call.

  “We appreciate you stepping in at such notice, that took some guts considering the fact that you knew Paul Niemechek well.”

  “That's true. How is Jill holding up?”

  Coffey was referring to the late astronauts grieving wife with whom he not only knew well from his friendship with Niemechek but had also dated many years before hand.

  “Not so well if I’m to be honest. It came as a shock as did it to all of us. There seems no sense in it.”

  Janus did his best to l
ook concerned but Coffey knew that his boss only had a passing interest in her grief. Janus was a busy man and not one to become embroiled in the human side of things.

  “Do we know why yet? Any suicide note?” Coffey inquired.