Alien Caller

by Greg Curtis

  “True.” He nodded his agreement to the thin air where the voice seemed to come from.

  “So as you humans, or rather as you Earth born Leinians say, let’s make a deal. You help us to help your people safely, and we’ll train you to become a member of our security community.” While it was odd to hear the phrase, it was actually correct, though David figured he could make an equally strong case that Leinians were humans born here. Then of course there were possibly more races still waiting to be found once the Mentans dug up all their ancient records. It didn’t help that the one member of their race who knew where they were buried, and who was locked up for his own crimes committed as he tried to hide them, still wasn’t talking.

  “It’s a good deal for both of us. You get to learn how to become a police officer with us, while we get the benefit of your knowledge of your own agencies, and how they might act towards us. Meanwhile Cyrea can stay with you either on Earth or here, while still remaining in the force, and she can help you learn our ways. It’s the best deal, for all of us.” Which it was. But there were still some problems.

  “There are –.”

  “Yes, I know. There are things you can’t tell us. Like the highly secret nuclear defence projects you’ve been a part of. And your work recovering weapons of mass destruction in the Middle East and so forth. We already know about many of them, without your help. In time we’ll know the rest, still without your help. We don’t want or need you as an informer. We want you as an officer, someone who can protect our people while they try to negotiate your people’s arrival among us. Someone who can show us the risks we face and help us avoid them. It’s an important job and one which no-one else can help us with as well as you can. And if you’re honest, you know we won’t betray either your people or you.”

  David was somewhat taken aback by the way Lar casually dropped his level of knowledge about national secrets on the table. But he also knew he shouldn’t be. The Leinians had been digging ever more deeply over the previous months, ever since Dimock had appeared on the scene. And they did have some advanced technology at their disposal. Then too they had seen Dimock. They had literally disassembled him. David knew he should have felt threatened by it, but somehow he just wasn’t. If anything he felt somewhat easier, as if a load had been lifted from him. The more they knew the less he had to hide. Besides, he'd already told them of every single human experiment he'd been involved with. Given them every name he could remember. Under no circumstances was he ever going to allow another Dimock to be made, secrecy be damned.

  And then he felt something new. Shame. Guilt. Not for what he had done, though that would always be with him. For what he was still doing.

  “Lar, I have a lock up. A garage in Helena where I've kept records of every classified secret project I've ever been involved with. Their yours. And they should be made public. And I will testify as necessary.” Cyrea stared at him, shocked, and he could imagine that Lar wherever he was, was probably doing much the same. The only one who wasn't shocked as he gave them the details was him. He felt only relief. And Hope of course who had no idea what was happening.

  There was silence after that, but he liked to think it was a happy silence. At least he was happy. He wondered only why it had taken so long. And it wasn't until Lar broke it that he cared.

  “My offer still stands.”

  “And I would be honoured to accept it. More than honoured. Happy. So I’d be an agent again?” Which was something that didn’t really appeal any longer, even when he supported their cause.

  “No, of course not.” There was a slightly exasperated tone in Lar's voice, which David knew was probably his fault. He’d said something stupid again. “We don’t have agents. We don’t even have secrets, in case you’d missed that. You’d be what you once called Cyrea, a police officer. Except our goal is to stop crime before it happens.”

  “So I’d be an Ayn?”

  “In time. But I think you’d have to begin as a Re Ayn. For the first few years at least.” Cyrea suddenly snorted beside him, and he knew she was just trying to suppress a fit of the giggles. And it was funny – for her. There would be years as a trainee officer, a cadet, when she’d technically hold rank over him. He’d never hear the end of it and yet all of them knew it wasn’t a choice. He had to do something, he had to start somewhere.

  “Bugger!” Cyrea finally gave in to her laughter and fell about in hysterics beside him, while Hope looked on uncertainly. He grinned and bore it stoically.

  “It is an honourable profession.” Cyrea smiled merrily, as she repeated back to him what he’d told her so long before. And she was right to do so. Though he had been deprecating of the role at the time, policing was something he could feel good about. It was also something he could do, and in time, do well. He kissed her hand in apology and agreement.

  “True. And one I would be pleased to begin. Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow. Today my wife and daughter need my complete attention. We’re going to play in the park or so I’ve been told. There are all sorts of dangers in parks, strange people, stranger animals and perilous playthings. I feel I need to be there just in case.”

  Then too there was the Leinian version of ice-cream, which surely had to be one of the universe’s delicacies.

  Ice-cream in the park. Now that was a plan for a sunny day.