Alien Agenda: Why They Came, Why They Stayed Read online

  After the first dozen pulses that shot through my body, I became disoriented and a little nauseous with each new and more powerful bolt that cut through me.

  The bluish light, now complimented with magenta, clicked on and off so quickly it almost seemed constant. Its magnitude continued to increase.

  A pulse ripped through me and I nearly collapsed with vertigo. Sister Fran dropped to her knees and clasped her hands in prayer. She was shouting, but the continuous bass tone blocked all sound now.

  The powerful blue light, now mixed with flares of magenta and neon green, seemed to ignite. If it had been bright before, it was now unbearable to see. It was like staring directly at the sun on a desert noon. My eyes slammed shut, but even so the afterimages took on a solid realness. I could see the pulse moving toward me in extreme slow motion now. It was a thin, vertical line brighter than the rest of an expanding bubble. Somehow I knew that Sister Fran saw her own thin line of energy coming directly at her. Even in super slow motion it came at me fast. Just before it hit me I flashed on a memory.

  Have you ever been in an earthquake? They are not all the same. The oddest earthquake experience I had happened twenty-something years ago on the beach in Acapulco, Mexico. I had just stood and was brushing sand off my swimsuit when two things happened. I felt a slight feeling of dizziness, and out of the corner of my eye I caught movement.

  Turning my head to see up the beach, the palm trees were now swaying. They were shaking violently back and forth three or four times, then they came to a stop. It was if the shaking trees were charging toward me. The next thing I saw was people performing balancing acts on the beach, some more successful than others. Finally I saw the hump in the sand. It was a small mound, maybe a foot high and three feet wide. It emerged from the ocean, ran across the beach and onto the golf course above. It moved at tremendous speed. Just before it reached me I could see grains of sand dancing a foot into the air above the mound. As it moved beneath my feet I was downed like a student surfer on Hawaii’s north shore.

  The earthquake on the beach was nothing like the line of energy speeding toward me. It was, however, the only experience that even relates to the pulse.

  When it hit my body, it split me. I was me on the left and also me on the right. The subatomic particles where the force split me were flung away from the line and, as it passed, they panicked, like the sand grains on the earthquake hump, trying to restore their balance. As the light passed beyond my body it sealed the split, but in the joyful reunion of particles there were tiny differences. I fell, not knowing when the fall had started.

  The next think I remember was the feel of Crista’s soft hand on my shoulder. She gently pulled, physically imploring me to rise. My eyes opened and I saw Sister Fran still locked in prayer with Melanie stroking her face soothingly.

  We made it back to the tents. Neither Fran nor I spoke the whole way back. The kids went into their tent and climbed into sleeping bags. Sister Fran had planned on sleeping in the pickup truck’s cab but changed her mind and brought her sleeping bag over to my tent and settled in.

  I loaded the fire up with wood and climbed into my bedroll, thinking I would have no sleep tonight. About a minute later I was out like a light, a blue, pulsing light that took me to faraway places.

  The next morning we packed up and headed back to the village. Sister Fan and I passed the time speaking of mundane things. It was several weeks later, at our favorite coffee shop, before we finally began to exchange stories about that fantastic night.

  As I said, it’s beautiful here. I have a house on a beach. My book royalties are deposited in an account on the Isle of Man. The advance on my new book swelled the balance to ten times its highest previous amount.

  I sent the first three chapters and outline for this book to my publisher. They loved it, hence the advance check that led to the house on the beach.

  The best news of all is next month my ex-wife and children are meeting me for two weeks in Fiji to celebrate my one-year anniversary of sobriety.

  It turns out 1947-07 was right about everything except Melanie. Watching Melanie and Crista perform their magic, thinking about how valuable they are to the HUC, I wondered why the aliens didn’t just abduct Melanie when she was still in Virginia, or why not right here. Then I figured it out. The aliens’ genetic program created something they didn’t expect; something of which the sum is greater than its parts. They are afraid of her.

  Yesterday, over bread and coffee, Sister Fran told me that Crista was beginning to communicate with her in the same manner as Melanie. Sister Fran felt this was some kind of breakthrough.

  I am happy the girls don’t communicate with me often. I find it a creepy experience, and some part of my consciousness wants to reject it on the grounds that if they can put things in my mind, they can take things out.

  The big news Sister Fran had for me is Melanie and Crista told her together. It was one communication in her head but she knew it was both girls. They told her soon everything will be perfect. Their sister is coming.

  THE END