Fallback (The Adventures of Eric and Ursula Book 3)

by A. D. Winch

  Before he left the computers, he located the research that Andrea and he had done on the children’s condition plus the five CDs from Ingrid. He found three USB sticks and, even though he knew he was being paranoid, copied the same data onto each one. He had no desire to come back to Prague, and if he wanted to help the children, he did not want to cover old ground due to losing their research.

  Sasha was sat on the floor next to Andrea when he went back into the cellar’s large room.

  “Your toilet is from communist time,” she said disapprovingly as he approached her. “And there is no signal for phone.”

  “We are underground. Of course there is ‘no signal.’ Who do you want to phone anyway?”

  “I have friends,” Sasha replied with a huff.

  It took over an hour to reattach Andrea’s eyeball. Sasha held a torch while Alexander connected wires and soldered circuits back in place. Once satisfied, he turned his attention to the central power cable at the base of her head. This was his biggest concern. The bullet had sliced it in two before exiting out of the back of her neck. Sharp shards glistened off of the cable in the torchlight and Alexander stopped.

  “This is going to be difficult,” he said. Before he could even hope to repair the cable, he would have to collect the metallic splinters that were either resting or embedded inside the head. He looked at his watch. It was nine thirty, and they would have to go soon.

  Alexander found some cling film amongst the tins of food.

  “We need to leave but first we need to seal this hole.”

  The two of them lifted Andrea into a seated position. Alexander wrapped the cling film around Andrea’s head until the hole was completely sealed. Sasha rolled her up in the sheet and placed the body back in the duffel bag. While she did this, Alexander collected more resources that he felt would be useful.

  When he was ready, Sasha asked him where they were going.

  “We are going on a tour of Europe,” he replied and she followed him out of the cellar.

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  ***

  Chapter 23 – A Friendship is Born

  The cargo ship slowly left the busy port of Velacruz in Mexico. Two tug boats that looked tiny in comparison pulled it out into the North Atlantic Ocean. Eric walked out onto the deck and looked at the thousands of multi-coloured containers packed high in front of him. They dimly awakened a dream in his head, but he could not recall it clearly. All he could remember were containers stacked like toy blocks beside a road, and a feeling of fear mixed with relief.

  The engines grew louder as they reached open water and rumbled under his feet. The tugs departed. Black smoke belched from their funnels and blew upwards, across the deck. The cargo ship slowly drifted away from them and began its long journey.

  Eric no longer felt worried that he would be caught and dragged back to Roswell. They had had a week in Mexico, trying to arrange transport away from the Americas, and had not been found. Alexander’s paranoia had taken hold of Eric, and he was now grateful for the training. Whenever they saw security cameras they ducked their heads, avoided policemen and did not enter any building unless they could see more than one exit. Eric had worn his cap whenever he was outside and insisted that Johan buy a hat. His choice of sombrero was amusing, but it did the trick. During their seven days together, this had been a rare moment of levity. They had both been so focused on their escape that they had talked about very little else.

  Eventually, Johan had successfully bribed them passage onboard this cargo ship and they had been given a small cabin. Eric did not care about its size nor that they were sharing. He liked the old man even though they had yet to get to know each other properly. In Eric’s eyes, the cabin was not a cell, and this was all that mattered to him. He appreciated his freedom and that he could walk out onto deck or around the ship as and when he pleased.

  The ship was heading out into the Atlantic and back towards Europe. A seagull squawked above his head, and he watched it fly back towards land. The Mexican coastline stretched out behind him, and he was happy just to watch until it disappeared from sight.

  A door scraped open, and Johan joined him.

  “I wondered where you were. I have a present from the captain. He told me that these are the best way to stay in contact while onboard.”

  He handed Eric a small, yellow walkie-talkie.

  Johan pressed the button on his and spoke into the hidden microphone, “How are you?”

  His voice echoed out of Eric’s.

  Eric breathed in the sea air and soaked up the view all the way to the horizon before he replied.

  “I’m good,” he said with a smile and slid the walkie-talkie into his pocket.

  “I am pleased to hear it, Eric Meyer,” he paused as something occurred to him. “Meyer? I never thought.”

  “What?” Eric asked.

  “Did you know that your name comes from the German word ‘meiger’ meaning higher or superior?”

  “No, I didn’t,” smiled Eric. “With my parents, I thought I was a European mongrel.”

  “A mongrel – a mixture of different breeds. Interesting, perhaps you are a superior mongrel then?”

  “Perhaps,” Eric replied. “And how are you, John Blackhead?”

  This time it was Johan’s turn to smile. “It sounds better in German, no? Johan Schwarzkopf or John Blackhead? The way you say it, I sound like a zit or a pimple.”

  Eric laughed, and Johan stepped forward to stand beside him. He took hold of the metal railing around the deck and tried to think of an answer to Eric’s simple question.

  “I do not know. Most of my adult life was spent at Roswell, and around North and Central America. Since my twenties, I have been connected to this area in some way. This has gone, and I do not know where I am going. How do I feel about this? I feel exhilarated, I feel sad, I feel excited, I feel nervous, I feel free and for the last hour I have felt… bored.”

  Eric looked at him but didn’t know what to say. He said nothing and continued to look out at sea.

  “I am sorry if I am too direct. I am not used to talking to young people.”

  “Don’t worry. After the last six months I’ve had, I’m not used to talking to people at all.”

  Professor Schwarzkopf laughed which resulted in his doubling over as he had a coughing fit.

  Eric grabbed him, scared he may fall.

  “Are you okay?”

  Johan ignored the question and once he had composed himself asked, “I do not suppose you play chess, young Mister Meyer?”

  “I love chess.”

  “Then I think we may get on very well,” smiled Johan and they walked off in search of a chess set.

  The games of chess brought Johan and Eric together. The games were evenly matched, and both opponents were surprised at the other’s abilities. One evening, half way through the journey, they were enjoying a titanic struggle. They had been playing for almost five hours, and the game had reached its conclusion.

  Johan’s hand hovered above the board and the crate that supported it. He took Eric’s knight and said, “Neither of us can win now. Would you like to end the game as a draw?”

  Eric surveyed the board. There were only four pieces left and, unless Johan made a monumental blunder, he was telling the truth.

  They shook hands and relaxed into their deck chairs. The Atlantic Ocean surrounded them, and there was no land in sight. It was still warm, even though the sun was slipping below the horizon.

  “My brain is fried,” Eric announced.

  “I have just the thing, my young friend,” replied Johan and left the deck. He was not gone long and when he returned he was carrying two bottles.

  “Have you ever drunk beer before, Eric?”

  “I’ve tried it, but I didn’t really like it.”

  “Tonight, that is going to change. I found these below deck. These are German beer, and I have not had a genuine one for over fifty years. I would like you to join me.”

  The caps we
re flipped off, and Johan pressed a cold beer into Eric’s hand.

  “Prost,” said Johan and raised his bottle in the air before slumping back into his deckchair.

  “Prost,” repeated Eric and they both took a mouthful.

  The cold, malty liquid hit the back of their throats, and Johan immediately coughed.

  “Wunderbar. It is only now that I have left America that I realise how much I have missed,” he said, watching the orange sun cast its light over the Atlantic waves.

  “Like beer,” asked Eric.

  “Yes, like beer. And food. And places. And people.”

  “People from home.”

  “Not so much. I miss my colleagues at the university in Berlin. I still miss my parents, but they died in the war before I left Germany. I miss my wife, and I miss that I never knew my son.”

  “How did you find out about him? You mentioned that you had been lied to but nothing else.”

  “I overheard Buddy Angel talking about him and worked out that my wife must have been pregnant when she left the base.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “Yes, he had adopted part of mine. His name is Alexander Johansen.”

  Eric almost spat out his beer, “Alexander!”

  “You know him?” Johan asked eagerly, trying not to choke on his drink. “Of course you know him! Es ist keiner so blind, wie der, der nicht sehen will. There is none so blind as those who cannot see. I never joined the dots. He was your companion! What is he like?”

  Eric erred, “He’s a good person but… well, we didn’t really get on. I wasn’t very friendly.”

  “Oh,” said Johan, deflated.

  “But he looks like you.”

  The news pleased Johan, and he raised his glass in the air and toasted, “My son.”

  They drank in silence, gazing at the reflection of the setting sun on the waves.

  “What do you miss, Eric?”

  He took some time to reply.

  “Right now, I only miss people. The OSS left me alone for so long.” He felt his eyes welling up, and his hand squeezed the bottle tightly. “I miss my parents. They weren’t the best, but I still miss them. I miss Andrea. She was my nanny and has always looked after me. I miss the Benjamins, Ursula’s grandparents. I miss Ursula. She’s the only one who really understands what it is like to be different. I didn’t appreciate that until I was put in isolation. It was her thoughts that kept me going.”

  “What do you mean? Her thoughts?”

  “We can sort of read each other’s minds,” Eric said with embarrassment.

  “Fascinating,” replied Johan, leaning towards Eric. “It is like the pods. The space crafts. I believe strongly that the mind also operates them. I could open and close them. I think I made one rise in the air and you turned one into a one-way window. Fascinating.”

  “You are a remarkable specimen, Eric.”

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  “I didn’t mean that negatively. You are remarkable. Your abilities are extraordinary. What you are capable of, in so many areas, puts you on par with the greatest academics, thinkers, athletes in the world today. You are a super human. You are truly a Meyer!”

  “But I’m going to die,” Eric replied. “That’s what Andrea and Alexander said. When I’m fourteen. That’s only seven months away.”

  “We are both going to die. Who knows when? Cures are discovered all the time.”

  “So you agree with them?”

  Johan paused, “Would you like me to speak frankly?”

  Eric nodded.

  “When you were a prisoner we analysed your blood and your tissue. At first I thought it looked normal but when I ran more tests, it pointed to one vital fact – that your life expectancy was short. It made no sense and inferred that you would die from old age within a year.”

  Eric tried to interrupt, but Johan continued to speak.

  “I thought this was all because of the amount of medication you were on, but if Alexander thinks the same then it can only point to the fact that this must be true. Exertion ages you faster, did you know that? After these exertions, you rest and over the following days you seem to recover and your energy levels return. The physical signs fade, but they do not disappear entirely.”

  “I don’t believe I am going to die,” Eric said defiantly. “I’m thirteen and I feel fine.”

  “I hope you are right. In the meantime, I will think about this problem and try to find a solution. I have Ingrid’s work on you stored on this flash drive,” he removed the memory stick from under his shirt. “This should prove helpful.”

  “You make me sound like a specimen again,” Eric said angrily. “Ingrid’s work on me!”

  Johan looked genuinely apologetic, “I am sorry Eric, maybe I have used the wrong choice of words. I did not mean to upset you. It is not easy facing the possibility of death. In these circumstances, let us live!”

  Johan held his bottle in the direction of Eric. The old man’s words had angered him, plus the knowledge that one day he would die. It was not Johan’s fault, he knew that. He had brought it up, not Johan. Eric clinked bottles.

  “To life,” they said and finished their beers.

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  ***

  Chapter 24 - Ingrid’s Diary

  The overnight coach from Prague to Paris had been long and tiresome. They had sat on grey leathery seats which hardly tilted backwards. Alexander slept on and off. Sasha dozed uncomfortably. During the entire journey, she held her phone like a teddy bear. On arriving in Paris, a tetchy Alexander and a grouchy Sasha took a taxi to Le Bourget airport where they met Captain Hudson and Ursula. The reunion and introductions were kept to a minimum as Alexander did not want to spend any longer than he had to in the French capital. Consequently, Captain Hudson drove them straight to Gare de Lyon and accompanied them onto the platform. Ursula hugged Captain Hudson and looked as if she was not going to let him go. Finally, she prised herself away.

  “I have a summer house in Benarraba, Serannia de Ronda,” he said to Ursula, placing a key and the address in her hand. “It is a small village away from the busy coastal resorts but very pleasant. Use it if you need to, but when you leave please lock it up and place the key under the plant pot next to the well in the back garden.”

  Ursula thanked him and then boarded the TGV Duplex with Alexander and Sasha. It was a two floored bullet train that would take them to Barcelona, where they would change for Madrid and then on to Cádiz. After fourteen hours in a cramped bus, Alexander refused to travel in the ‘cheap seats’ and bought three first-class tickets on the train’s upper deck. The purple seats were wide and comfortable, putting him in a much better mood.

  For a while, they talked. Alexander and Ursula were both delighted to see each other again, and Ursula also admitted that she was relieved. When pressed, she explained that Eric had feared that once Alexander had been made a guardian he would empty the Meyer bank account and vanish forever.

  “There’s more to life that money,” Alexander replied sincerely.

  Sasha disagreed and killed the conversation. She became absorbed in her phone, and soon after she fell asleep.

  Ursula was unsure about Sasha. She was friendly but, in Ursula’s eyes at least, this seemed forced. Ursula wondered if Sasha was unused to being with someone who had much darker skin. She did not seem the same with Alexander and he clearly trusted her. Ursula picked up a novel that Captain Hudson had given her and decided not to worry about it.

  On the seat opposite, Alexander took out his mother’s diary carefully from his duffel bag. Despite his continued reading, he could still smell the cigarette smoke clinging to the pages. As he put the diary on his knee, it fell open to a page near the end. He had read the entire diary before, but the words on this particular page had confused him more than any others. It was so unlike his mother and so unbelievable that he could not understand it.

  3rd June 1969

  I feel that I need to write in mor
e detail regarding my first entry in this diary, which I subsequently crossed out. I don’t want you to think that I have gone mad, Johan. This is the last thing I would possibly want. However, on reading it again, I can see that this may strike you as the writings of a crazy woman.

  Alexander held the page and then flicked back to the beginning of the diary. Lines crisscrossed over the sentences, trying to cover up what had been written, but the words were still just visible and he had read them many times before.

  I have become aware of information that I should never have. I knew it wasn’t dead, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They thought I was just another dumb blonde. Now my mind is filled with hundreds of lives lived, hundreds of memories, hundreds of thoughts, hundreds of ideas. They are not mine. They are not my husband’s. They are not my friend’s. They are not human. They should never have been placed in my head. So much that I thought was impossible I can now make possible. All that was improbable I now know is probable. I have the knowledge. I have the understanding, and I have the skills to do it. What am I to do? What am I going to do? What am I going to…

  She was right; it did read like someone who had gone mad but…

  Alexander paused before turning back to the page where his mother had attempted to explain herself. Her explanation was no better. Maybe it meant something to his father but not to him. He began to read, hoping that this time, he could make sense of what she had written.

  Do you remember when we were taken to see the alien bodies, darling? Do you remember my reaction? How I ran? How I had to escape? Do you remember how I told you they were not dead? You asked me how I knew. I replied, ‘woman’s intuition.' And those were the last and only words we exchanged on the subject. If you had pressed me, I would have probably told you. If you had insisted, I am sure I would have let you know all that I know. But you didn’t, and I was too scared that you may think I had gone mad, if I ever brought it up myself. So, I didn’t but I think you have a right to know, and I need to tell you. You’re the only person whom I think will understand, even if it is only in a small way, because you were there.