TWELVE
I fell asleep instantly and was soon visited by the alien again. As on the last occasion, I was convinced I was awake: the clarity of the vision was not at all dream-like.
The alien hovered over me, peering down. I stared up at its thin, axe-blade face, curious but not in the least apprehensive. The being—or whatever it was—emanated a sense of calm and goodwill.
It told me, again not verbally, but by some kind of telepathic process, that I had been chosen by the Yall. What they wanted me to do would change things for ever, the alien claimed, and in the process transform my life. I would need the help of my friends—Matt and Maddie and Hawk—and together we would bring about a new Golden Age for humankind.
And then it told me what I had to do.
It filled my head with information and I absorbed it all in wonder. It told me everything but the reason for what it had asked me to do.
That, it said, would become evident in time.
“But the Yall,” I recall saying, “why can’t they…?”
The Yall no longer inhabited this galaxy, I was told. They had done their work here, left behind them their gift to other emerging sentient races, and left for the next galaxy.
“Their gift?” I echoed. “You mean, the Golden Column?” My alien visitor assented.
“But… what is it? What does it mean?”
“That is a secret only a race advanced enough can find out.”
“And we—humans—have reached that stage?”
Affirmation filled my head.
I wanted to ask more—determine precisely what would happen when my friends and I carried out the alien’s bidding—but the apparition faded, and I slipped further into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I came awake suddenly, disoriented. I recalled the dream—the vision that had all the fidelity of a waking encounter—and what the alien had requested.
I stumbled from bed. I had fallen asleep in the afternoon, but it was dark now. How long had I slept?
The bedside clock told me that it was seven in the morning. I had slept through the evening and the night. I stood up, realising that I felt refreshed, invigorated.
I showered quickly and ate an even quicker breakfast, my head full of what I should do next.
At eight—a suitable time, I judged, to rouse my friends—I called first Matt, then Hawk and Maddie.
Matt answered instantly. He stared from the com screen, peering at me. “David? What’s wrong?”
“I need to see you. I was visited last night. By the alien. And I know now what it wants.”
“David?”
“How soon can you get over here?”
“I’m on my way.”
I cut the connection and got though to Hawk and Maddie, with the same results.
I sat before the viewscreen, staring out at the sweep of the bay. The curving red sands and the beach-side chalets were quiet now, not a soul in sight. Storm clouds piled on the horizon over the sea, and a wind was blowing up. Soon the bay would be whipped into a frenzy, and winds would lash the foreshore for an hour or two. I hoped my friends would make it before the storm set in.
I sat and thought about what the alien had told me…
Matt arrived first, riding his wave-hopper around the far headland and along the beach rather than risk crossing the choppy waters. Seconds later a battered roadster drew up beneath the nose of the starship, and Hawk climbed out and limped up the ramp and into the ship after Matt.
“In the lounge,” I called out, just as Maddie came into sight along the beach, a small doll-like figure, her home-made cape pestered by the rising wind.
Minutes later all three were sitting in the lounge, pouring coffee and looking at me expectantly.
“Well?” Matt said.
I stared at my friends and wondered where to begin.
“I had another dream,” I said, “only it wasn’t a dream. It happened. The alien came to me and explained what it wanted.” Matt sipped his coffee. The others watched me expectantly. I looked at Hawk.
“Do you think you can pilot the Mantis?” I asked.
He stared at me, puzzlement lending his experienced, battered face a sudden look of innocence. “Pilot the ship?” “Get it running, get it up and flying?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know… In principle, yes.”
“I know the codes,” I said. “I know the override commands that will start the engines. They were given to me by the creature.”
“Then… in that case it can be done. But not by me.”
I stared at him. “Hawk?” Disappointment flooded the word.
He looked pained. “David, I haven’t flown for thirty years. For that long I’ve tried to forget what happened…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t bring myself to even think about flying again.”
“Not even one last time?”
Hawk stared at me, wrestling with demons.
Matt leaned forward and said,“Why?” watching me closely.
I shook my head. “That I don’t know. The alien said it wanted us to fly the ship. It gave me the co-ordinates for the flight. All we need to do is get the ship running.”
Maddie said, “It wanted us to fly the ship, David?”
I nodded, dredging the dream for the alien’s explanation. “The ship needs more than the pilot to get it up and moving. Don’t ask me for the technical details. We’d be… plugged into the systems matrix, in some way powering the vessel. Our presence is vital for its operation.”
“And where would the ship be bound?” Matt asked. “And why?” Again I shook my head, spreading my hands in mute appeal. “I don’t know that. The alien told me that what we’d do would change things—it said that the Yall had given the galaxy a gift, and that we humans were now advanced enough to accept it.”
We stared at each other.
Maddie said, “I’m up for it. How can we refuse?”
Matt inclined his noble head. “I agree with Maddie. We’ve got to do it. Imagine not taking up the challenge, and looking back at our failure, and forever wondering…”
I looked across at Hawk. He was staring down at his big hands. He looked up, staring past me through the viewscreen.
The storm had started. They sky had darkened. Wind howled around the contours of the ship, whistled through aerials and antennae, and the rain came down in torrents.
“Hawk?” I said.
“I don’t know…”
I said, and I wasn’t proud of myself for what might be considered a blackmail tactic, “If we do it, Hawk, then the alien said it’d banish my nightmares. I know, there’s a greater thing we need to do it for, something we can’t even guess at as yet. But one of the results would be that I’d no longer be haunted by the nightmares of what happened.”
Maddie said in a small voice, “What did happen, David?”
I nodded, and gathered myself, my thoughts, the memory of that day, and I told them what I had not told anyone before.
“Three years ago I was involved in an accident which killed my daughter,” I began.