The Lifeboat

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The Lifeboat Page 34

by Keith Fenwick


  Bruce thought about the dogs. He wandered over to the kennels to let them out, marvelling at how good he felt. It was surreal really. One minute the weight of the world was on his shoulders, the next, while he was still aware of the task required of him, he was more at peace and relaxed than he could remember being for ages. If the Transcendents were responsible for that state of affairs, he would do anything they wanted. Within reason, that is.

  As he got to the kennels his father’s dogs and his mother’s decrepit old corgi started barking wildly. Bruce could hear a car coming down the road, the sound of the tyres crunching on the gravel and stones clattering against its undercarriage reaching him before the purr of a modern diesel engine. The dogs knew who it was, and as the ute came into sight around the last corner, descending into the valley where the house was, so did Bruce.

  Oh fuck! The weight of the world was firmly back on his shoulders. The serenity of the last few moments was quickly forgotten – life was about to get a lot more complicated. Again. It had completely slipped Bruce’s mind his parents were due home today. He had a shitload of explaining to do and to the toughest audience he was ever going to have.

  Bruce let his dogs out of the kennels and they leapt about madly, Punch and Can jumping up and placing their paws on his chest, trying to lick his face while Cop pretended that kind of behaviour was beneath his dignity. Bruce thought his arthritis was probably playing up.

  Yeah right, the old dog said cynically. Never felt better.

  Bruce let his father’s dogs out and the three huntaways charged off across the paddock to intercept the ute that had come to a halt at the police checkpoint at the main entrance to the farm. He let his mother’s old corgi out which huffed and puffed after them for a moment, thought better of it, and scuttled away to the house instead.

  With a heavy heart and feet that felt as though lead weights had been applied to them, Bruce followed the dogs across the paddock to the gate.

  He could see his old man getting out of the ute and start talking to the police. He could also hear the outraged tones of his mother demanding they be let into the property, over his father’s more hushed and reasonable tones as he tried to establish what was going on.

  The senior cop emerged from the house holding his walkie-talkie and started towards the gate, and now Bruce was close enough to be recognised he waved at his parents. At the same time the cops at the gate must have got the message – his old man got back into the ute and headed up the drive towards Bruce.

  Bruce was momentarily lost for words as the ute drew up beside him. The expression on his father’s face was unreadable.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here, son, but I sure as hell hope you have a very good explanation,” was all he said.

  Bruce nodded gloomily, not sure he had an explanation his father would believe.

  “Bruce!” his mother shrieked. “What have you done this time? Who are all these people?”

  “Now, Mavis, I’m sure there’s a very good explanation?” Cyril Harwood cocked an eyebrow so it was almost a question as he tried to soothe his wife.

  Bruce could just about imagine how the two of them must feel – they would be exhausted after their long trip and now there was going to be a whole lot more drama in their lives.

  Seventeen

  There is panic on the streets of Portland tonight after revelations the alleged terrorist-related incidents across the city and the wider north-west in recent days were raids undertaken by special teams of military operatives who have been interdicting advanced units of an attempted invasion of the United States by a radical group of alien origin.

  Panic buying has cleared the shelves of supermarkets as people stock up with supplies, and there has also been widespread looting and rioting which is stretching police resources as panic spreads. Gun shops report a roaring trade and have been stripped of automatic weapons, hunting rifles and ammunition.

  “This is like something out of the Men in Black movies or The X-Files,” said one man interviewed on the street, “as it appears a team of special operatives has been working in our area without the knowledge of local law enforcement officials.”

  Several aircraft have been impounded at the Portland International Airport, and there are indications several suspects have been taken away for questioning. For some reason the aircraft had been allowed to leave and return several times with no attempts made to interdict them. There are also rumours unnamed but very senior US Government officials were aboard at least one of the craft on one of the alleged flights.

  The White House has yet to release any statement on these allegations. A spokesperson speaking anonymously, because they were not authorised to disclose any details, indicated the White House was not in a positon to confirm or deny these reports. This suggests the White House is being left out of the loop and is another indication President Mitchell’s administration is seen as irrelevant by the leaders of congress, the senate, and senior business and military leaders. This raises some constitutional issues and begs the question whether Mitchell’s presidency has been subject to a coup.

  Other related video footage shot in the downtown Portland area is alleged to show a suspected terrorist killing a number of peaceful protesters who had blown his cover. Authorities have not responded to questions regarding the source of the video and how the terrorist came to be in the area at the time.

  Furthermore, in the aftermath of the alleged alien landings at the Portland Air Force Base, a number of servicemen and women on duty at the time have been transferred to a secretive Indian Ocean supply base at short notice.

  In an unrelated incident it has also been revealed today that an unusual birth occurred recently in the OHSU Centre for Women’s Health. It is reported the baby’s physical development had been much more rapid than was the normal and it was under investigation until the baby and his mother recently disappeared while under surveillance.

  The father of the woman who is alleged to have borne the baby refused to comment. His daughter has gone to ground at an unnamed location. Attempts to locate the father have been unsuccessful, leading to suspicion the government is in the process of covering up a botched investigation into an alleged alien invasion. Or in fact an invasion is under way, and has been for some time, and government agencies have been keeping this information from the American people.

  A man known to authorities as Bruce Harwood is closely associated with all these incidents. Mr Harwood is from a small country in the South Pacific where sheep and cows far outnumber the human population. New Zealand is well known for its anti-nuclear stance, and as a live set for The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit films, but not much else.

  All attempts to contact Mr Harwood have proven to be difficult but it is known he was travelling and living in the north-west area until just a few days ago and visited an international sports event in Las Vegas. We have managed to obtain a mobile number for Mr Harwood and have put some questions to him but the responses cannot be repeated on national television.

  US border officials have a record of Mr Harwood arriving in the country some weeks ago. According to them he has not passed through any border checkpoints to exit the country so it is assumed he is still at large inside America.

  Members of the general public are advised Mr Harwood is dangerous and should not be approached. He is said to be in the company of a woman known only as Leaf, who is said to be acting as his security guard. Leaf is known to have a number of weapons available to her and also should not be approached. Please report any sightings of these two individuals to your local law enforcement officials.

  “What do you mean an ark?” Mavis shrieked.

  “Hush, dear, there’s got to be a rational explanation for this somewhere,” Cyril said, trying to soothe his wife and think of one without much success. He was feeling more than a little overwhelmed himself and had no idea what to believe.

  Mavis was beside herself when she returned and found her home had been invaded by aliens and pol
ice and a whole menagerie of other people who showed no sign of departing anytime soon.

  At least the police had the decency to duck back to the command post the had set up in the old shearers’ quarters behind the woolshed when she arrived, but the rest of them were just milling about the house and getting in her way.

  The two of them were absolutely exhausted and could have done without coming home to a house full of people – any people.

  Cyril glanced at his son and realised he had never really understood what made him tick. But, he reflected, he and Mavis were actually pretty lucky he had turned out so well, given the way they had dealt with the grief and not a little guilt over the death of his older brother.

  But there was certainly something really odd going on here. Bruce was like a different person. And where was Sue? Bruce had been very evasive about her whereabouts and how he had got back to the farm so quickly.

  The last time Cyril and Mavis had seen him was a few days a week ago when he had left Portland for Las Vegas. Where was his new wife? The baby was here with old Mrs Pratt, who actually looked a lot perkier than the last time Cyril had seen her.

  And what was this talk of an ark?

  Bruce’s phone rang, in itself a miracle – mobile coverage at the farm was patchy, to say the least.

  “Good evening.” Bruce listened for a moment, his face hardening and starting to almost glow red as he became visibly angry. “How did you get this number?” he barked down the phone and then added, “No fucken comment.” Bruce ended the call and muttered, “Muppets,” under his breath.

  “Bruce, do you really think it is necessary to use that kind of language with all these people around?”

  Bruce shrugged his shoulders, which served to wind his mother up a little further.

  “I don’t know how or why or what you have done, but how could you do this to us?” It was all about appearances. “The whole district must know by now something is going on out here and we’ll never live it down,” Mavis huffed unhappily.

  “Mum!” Bruce began, almost dismissively, which further incensed his mother. “Quite frankly what other people think is the least of my worries at the moment.”

  “There, there, Mavis.” Cyril stroked his wife’s shoulder reassuringly. “Bruce, there must be some kind of explanation?”

  “It’s pretty difficult to explain and I’m not sure you would believe me anyway,” Bruce repeated for the umpteenth time.

  “Try me, son.”

  “Sue and I were abducted by aliens, how’s that for starters?” Bruce said more abruptly than he meant.

  “Oh, Bruce, why are you being so flippant and lying to us; it won’t help you in the long run,” Mavis wailed.

  Cyril looked closely at his son. Bruce had always been straight-up – even as a child he was always pretty honest and answered truthfully. But aliens?

  “I can’t take this anymore. I am off to my sisters’ for the night. Cyril, ring her now and let her know I’m on my way.”

  “Yes, dear.” Cyril tried to keep any sense of relief out of his voice. Part of him knew he should go after his wife to make sure she was okay but another part of him was intrigued. There was a mystery here. Bruce did not appear to be in any real trouble. The police were clearly not wanting to take him into custody – they seemed to have some kind of watching brief instead – and the detective actually seemed to defer to Bruce. So what was going on? What was all this about an ark? Had Bruce fallen victim to some kind of fringe religious sect? The Clarks, after all, were from some pretty fundamentalist Pentecostal church. He was tempted to give Bruce a bloody good shake to see if he could knock some sense into him, but belligerence had never been the best way to achieve anything with Bruce.

  “Why don’t we get one of those nice policewomen to use some of our tax dollars and get you into town, Mavis,” Cyril suggested. Neither he nor Mavis were really in a fit state to drive. Not only was she distraught but she was exhausted after the long flight and drive home so was likely to fall asleep and drive off the road if she went to her sisters.

  Cyril took Mavis outside and suggested one of the police team take her into town to stay with her sister. After a brief two-way radio discussion one of the constables took Mavis into town.

  “Now I have your mother sorted out, what is this ‘ark’ business all about, son?”

  “Have I got a story for you, Dad. You might want a beer or two; I think you’re going to need it. If you thought Noah and his ark and alien abduction stories were fantasies, boy, have I got news for you!”

  “Son, is there anything you want to tell me? Is everything OK?”

  Eighteen

  “Son, are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?” Cyril repeated, more seriously, as they had a beer. He nervously eyed up Myfair, Leaf and Mrs Pratt. Old Mrs Pratt seemed ordinary enough – in fact she appeared far more lucid than previously, she looked to have taken on a new lease of life. Her old lined face seemed less creased, she was less a wizened old gnome, if that was possible, and she had a mischievous glint in her eye that wasn’t there before.

  “I’ll try, Dad, but I’m not sure you’ll believe me. I’m in a spot of bother but not in the way you might be thinking. Actually saying I’m in a spot of bother isn’t correct at all – it’s more of an opportunity, a life- and world-changing opportunity.”

  Cyril was unsure what to believe. Like his son before him, he had an inclination to pinch himself to make sure he was awake and not having some kind of living nightmare. He glanced at the others who were watching him, expectantly, as Bruce continued.

  “The Americans are after me, well not so much me, more the promise of technological riches beyond anything you can imagine.”

  “What are you talking about, son? Stop beating about the bush and just tell me.”

  “It might be easier if I showed you.” Bruce had not quite got the hang of the teleporting functionality he now had control over, but the Transcendent came to the rescue. Before Cyril could bat an eyelid the two men were standing on the bridge of the space patrol ship, their beers intact, in front of a monitor showing them satellite view images of the planet.

  “How did you manage that trick?”

  “I’m not actually sure, to be honest. However, I can assure you we really are in an alien ship orbiting Earth and I can fly it just about anywhere I want – within reason. Awesome view, isn’t it!”

  Cyril was nonplussed as a chair extruded itself from the floor, though he slumped into it thankfully and then took in his stride the appearance of a mini robot appearing with another beer for them both. Meanwhile Bruce began to tell his story as the spacecraft continued to orbit the planet below.

  “It’s only been in the last few hours I’ve worked out what’s really been going on and the truth, I can tell you, is stranger than fiction.” Bruce was not sure his father was quite ready for the bits about the Transcendent yet, let alone the talking dog.

  Cyril was looking a bit green about the gills and kept shaking his head disbelievingly, obviously struggling to believe a word Bruce was saying. “I’m sorry, son,” he said shaking his head, “but I don’t believe you. Did you drug me somehow?”

  “Are you on drugs, Bruce? It’s not that I don’t want to believe you but I don’t understand how it could be true.”

  “You think this is some kind of elaborate hoax, don’t you?”

  Cyril nodded. It was all too much for him to take in – in some ways he was just too knackered to make any real sense of the situation. Somehow his son had appeared to have deluded himself into creating this elaborate fantasy world and through some kind of miraculous sleight of hand had created this very realistic mock-up of a spaceship and the very authentic-looking view of Earth to go with it. Somehow Bruce had also contrived to spirit him away to this place by some further magic trick. Cyril looked around anxiously for a door to take him back outside and back to the house.

  On the other hand, there was something really odd going on. How could he explain th
e presence of the police on the farm? What were they doing? Protecting him? If so, from what? This was before he started to wonder how Bruce, the baby and Mrs Pratt beat them home. And where was Sue?

  Cyril drew a deep breath – all of a sudden he had a sense they were moving. Without warning, the planet below suddenly seemed to be rapidly diminishing in size. While he was still trying to make sense of everything, the moon appeared on the screen then, just as quickly, was left in their wake. He dropped his beer and involuntarily grabbed the bottom of his seat; he was sure he was going to topple over as the stars suddenly shifted – just like the movies when The Enterprise engaged its warp drive.

  “Where are we?” he managed to gasp as a robot reappeared with another beer for him and another tidied up his spilt drink.

  “You know the asteroid in the news, the one being sucked into Earth’s orbit? Well, this is it. Automedon,” Bruce told him as they hove to adjacent to the asteroid.

  It then dawned on Cyril they really were on a spaceship and this whole thing wasn’t the elaborate hoax he had imagined – or even a bad dream.

  “Pass me your smokes, son,” he muttered. Cyril had given up smoking years ago but he felt a sudden urge to have a cigarette.

  “It takes a bit of getting your head around, doesn’t it eh? And there’s a lot more I haven’t quite got my head around yet. The Skidians are actually some kind of live-on-the-hoof storage system, the ultimate contingency for a group of people, entities really, who call themselves Transcendents.”

  “Eh? What’s a Transcendent?”

  “They’re the original inhabitants of Skid, and they’ve evolved past the point of not needing physical bodies – they’re sort of like data uploaded to the cloud but their cloud is the whole galaxy. I’m not sure how it all works but even though they discarded their bodies they can still control physical events, theirs and ours. For some reason, maybe because they’re relatively new to all this, they decided they wanted some nice warm bodies to download back into, if they needed to, some kind of ultimate contingency plan. That’s who the Skidians are, they are actually the descendants of humans kidnapped a couple of thousand years ago and shipped off to Skid.”

 

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