At six fourteen, their time, on that unusual Thursday morning, Susan, Priscilla, and Brian all sat close together on the living room couch, popcorn bowl in Priscilla’s lap so they could all reach it, eyes glued to the television.
The mysterious golden sphere lowered itself, and the handicapped space probe it carried, to the ground on the edge of the two-hundred foot circle of low barricades. The city police were supposed to be patrolling that circle, but at that moment they were as awe-struck as the thousands of other people standing in the cool morning air.
Observatories and people with telescopes had only learned that the space probe was not alone less than an hour before. That knowledge had not reached the city officials until just ten minutes ago. The police and people on the ground, and the television cameras, were just now finding out.
The probe was placed on the ground very gently, almost like a sacred offering, right in front of a tent on the edge of the circle from which the mayor and city council watched with open mouths. The eight grappling arms retracted and disappeared, and the golden sphere floated upward.
A minute later it disappeared among the clouds, and everyone let out a collective sigh.
“I guess I was wrong,” Priscilla said, “and this doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
After staring at the broadcast for a few more minutes, the trio of housemates filtered away, but no one bothered to turn off the television.
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Priscilla was brushing her teeth, feeling her mind shutting down for a long sleep, when she happened to hear something from the on-going news broadcast.
“. . . and we’ve just received a report from our affiliate station in River City, that the golden ball was spotted high over the shopping center, heading west . . .”
Priscilla quickly landed on her knees on the living-room carpet and turned up the volume, but the station had already switched back to events in Capital Park, where space-agency technicians were beginning to examine the probe.
“Map of the country!” Priscilla nearly screamed. “I need a map of the country! Please tell me you have one, Susan.”
“Of course I have one. Slow down, Priscilla. Breathe. Here it is . . .”
“Brian, yard stick!” the excited sixteen-year-old commanded.
He smiled and opened the broom closet.
Within a minute, Priscilla had a straight line from the capital, through River City, all the way to the coast. The three stared with wide eyes.
“Goes right through the Appala Hills, just west of here. Isn’t that about where . . .” Brian’s voice trailed off, seeing the two females staring at each other.
After a long moment of silence that seemed to last forever, but only allowed their hearts to beat once or twice, Priscilla spoke. “We have to call everyone and tell them to meet at the facility!”
“I’ll do that,” Susan declared. “You, wash your face and make yourself presentable. Brian, pack some juice and snacks. Everyone meet in the driveway in five minutes.”
“But I don’t have clear . . .” he began.
“Forget that crap,” Susan asserted. “Let’s move!”
As soon as they were in the car, Brian had questions. “Susan, how did you call all those people in just five minutes?”
She smiled into the rear-view mirror. “I didn’t. I just called Lisa at the facility. The place is empty and she’s bored stiff, so she volunteered to call everyone else while we drive.”
He nodded. “Why did you bring your dance bag?” he asked his young wife
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beside him.
“I have a hunch that’s what I’ll be doing today. I’m not a space-probe technician. I’m not a diplomat who can represent Ko-tera to visiting aliens.
I’m just a dancer.”
Susan chuckled from the front seat. “You and I both know it’s not the aliens who will be the problem.”
Priscilla grinned toward the rear-view mirror for a moment, grabbed a can of juice and drained it, then snuggled against Brian to try to get her racing heart to relax.
“I’m thinking we should just park in the grass on the other side of the road,” Susan said as they approached the facility. “Getting everyone into the parking garage would take forever.”
Priscilla opened her eyes. “Yeah. And that way maybe no one will notice Brian.” She looked at him. “Act like you’ve been here a hundred times and this is perfectly routine.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
“I think I see Sam right behind us,” Susan said, beginning to slow down,
“and there’s another car behind him.”
Priscilla turned and looked. “I think that’s Betty.”
Susan pulled the car onto the grass, and Lisa emerged from the rarely-used sidewalk door of the facility, then pointed for the following cars to park beside Susan. George stood in the open doorway observing.
Priscilla said quietly to Brian, “Stay with Susan,” just before she climbed out and crossed the road. “Hi, George!”
“What’s
happening,
Priscilla?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but if I had to guess, I’d say we’re about to get a ride to Capital Park so I can dance for the people there.”
“You mean, in a . . .”
“I think so.”
“I’ll . . . have to report it, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But . . . I don’t suppose anyone will notice if I happen to wait until after it’s gone . . . with your non-cleared husband, of course, whom I . . . didn’t see.”
NEBADOR Book Nine: A Cry for Help 411
“But George, you’re part of the team! You should come, too!”
“No. Someone has to run the safe house. The television will keep me informed.”
Priscilla nodded. “Thank you. For everything. For being a very reliable father figure to me for the last nine years.”
He shooed her away, just as another car pulled in.
“John!” she greeted as he hopped out of his rented car and took a moment to finish buttoning the coat of his uniform.
Doctor Chris Po-selem, physicist, arrived about two minutes later, then Doctor Larry Bo-leden, philosopher.
Less than a minute after that, the golden sphere descended from the sky, hovered silently for a moment, then sprouted landing struts and settled onto the grass not far from the parked cars. A hatch opened and a short, wiry teenage girl with faint scars on her face stood in the opening and spoke in a loud, clear voice, but was obviously not a native speaker of the language. “I have understand there be Teacher here that need ride to Capital Park, with her team also.”
Most mouths were open and throats too dry to speak even if they knew what to say.
Priscilla immediately liked the alien. She appeared young, but already deeply experienced, especially with the facial scars. Priscilla stepped forward and smiled, hoping the alien couldn’t see the trembling all throughout her body. “I’m . . . I’m Priscilla . . . Priscilla Ka-mentha.”
“What number of team?” the alien asked.
Priscilla looked around. “Nine so far, but I hope a few more arrive in time.”
Just then a car appeared at the crest of the near-by hill, raced the remaining quarter mile, and came to a sudden stop on the grass, sliding the last few feet. Retired Colonel Sarah Ma-soran stepped out of the driver’s seat, went around to the other side, and helped retired Three-star General Malcolm Ko-fenral out of the car as he fumbled with the coat of his uniform.
“Doctor Tu-feltin couldn’t get a ride, and I got no answer at Doctor Po-morna’s home or office,” Lisa revealed.
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“Eleven,” Priscilla said, with finality, to the alien.
“It be little crowded in here,” the alien girl responded, “but we find seat for each you. The flight only last some three minutes.”
George’s eyes snapped open, and he realized he should make a note of that last statement for later analysis.
Even at the leisurely speed the Manessa Kwi had traveled from Capital Park to the Appala Hills, they had out-paced every military aircraft that attempted to intercept or follow, which were many as they crossed the country.
But in the quarter hour the little response ship was on the ground to load her passengers, the location was quickly pin-pointed by spotter planes, and fighter jets were scrambled from the nearest air base.
The interior of the golden ship was dimly lit, and the entering guests could see a view of the top-secret facility on a large screen at the front of the passenger area. Beyond that, at a lower level, several aliens quietly went about their business at consoles with glowing controls and displays.
Colonel John Bo-torin was guided to the back row of seats by a girl with shaggy black hair who spoke no words but was able to put him at ease with gestures and smiles. He found himself seated beside a tank of water, and thought little of it until a gray dolphin head emerged and looked at him, followed closely by a dark-green sea turtle head. He fumbled to straighten his tie.
Retired General Bo-seklin was seated at the far end of the third row, but he soon realized there was one more passenger on that row who did not have a seat — a very large stripped tiger, or something similar, its head level with the general’s. “N . . . nice kitty,” he babbled.
The cat turned its head slowly to look at the human, but did not show any facial expressions.
Doctor Betty Ko-silma, chemist, was guided to a comfortable seat, at the end of the second row, that seemed to adjust itself to her size and shape. Soon she noticed a slight aroma she hadn’t smelled since she was young, visiting her uncle’s farm. Her gaze was drawn to the huge horse beside her on the
NEBADOR Book Nine: A Cry for Help 413
floor who seemed to be looking thoughtfully at the large display screen. She smiled to herself.
As Susan, Priscilla, and Brian were seated in the front row, they noticed a large bird sitting on what appeared to be a kitchen counter, and glimpsed a thick snake raise its head over the counter for a moment, then lower itself back out of sight. Susan shuddered, but breathed deeply to settle her nerves.
The roar of a fighter jet, flying low, was heard by all just a moment before the hatch was closed.
“Greetings,” the short wiry girl said from beside the console at the front of the passenger area. “My name Ashley Riddle. We here not to interfere your society. The flight to Capital Park lasts three minutes about.”
“I need to be the first one out,” Priscilla asserted, “and I want you to play Side A of this record while I dance, repeating it as necessary.” She handed Ashley a vinyl disc.
Ashley handled it by the edges, as Priscilla had done, but didn’t know what to do with it. In the language of Nebador, she said, “Manessa, can you read this disc?”
“Please place it on the steward’s console display.”
Some of the guests looked around for the source of the new voice.
“I can read it, but need to know the speed and direction,” Manessa said.
Ashley translated the query.
“Fifty R.P.M., clockwise, outside in,” Priscilla answered.
Ashley translated for Manessa, and a few seconds later, the music began.
“Wow!” Priscilla breathed. “I’ve never heard it so good! You even took out the pops and clicks!”
Ashley smiled, and heard Kibi whisper something from her station.
“Everyone, prepare to landing, please.”
Priscilla hopped out of her seat. “I need to change clothes somewhere!”
Ashley lead her to the toilet room as the golden ship slowly descended into the middle of Capital Park, where thousands of people still waited, talking about what they had seen, curious about the probe and its memory full of pictures, and wondering what else they might see that day.