Currently he was attempting to type up an account of the previous nights UFO event, if you could go so far as to call it that. It was a tried and trusted routine he always performed after one of his encounters, as he liked to call them. Best get it down while it was still fresh in his mind.
But it wasnt just the infuriating vagueness of last nights incident which had him depressed. Dave was no stranger to the intense feeling of anticlimax which often followed a sighting this went deeper than that. He had often reflected how UFO watching was much like being in the infantry in time of war; ninety-nine per cent stupefying boredom, one per cent shirt-drenching panic. After any fleeting high came an equally dramatic and far less fleeting low. The growing suspicion that someone, somewhere, in a darkened room, wanted it that way didnt help in the slightest.
With a heavy sigh Dave concluded that this depression, like most of his others, could be traced back to a far less mysterious source. For the ninth time that day he checked his email to see if Kate still cared whether he lived or died. The answer on this occasion was no different from his previous eight attempts to will his incoming mail prompter to go ping. Not for the first time that day he re-read her last message.
Dear Dave,
Hope youre enjoying yourself as much as I know you are able. Have you met any other Californian beach babes yet? I do like a spring wedding.
All hells broken loose back home. Have you heard the news of what went on at Glastonbury? Its all people are talking about over here.
All hells broken loose at work too. After one of the most nauseating shows I can remember weve started researching a special one-off to go out in just a few days time. Words come down from the very top that we have to be on-air ASAP. Its to be the usual format, Mr Sunbed-Tan and a studio full of real people queuing up to have their insanity beamed out for all the world to see. But this time, the subject matter will interest you. Were getting an audience together of folks who claim theyve seen flying saucers. You know, Im having an aliens love-child, that sort of thing, all the stuff youre into.
Went over to the west country the other day to interview a farmer with a funny tale. Ill pass on the details when you get back. Perhaps you can line me up some other cranks to swell the ranks. You must know a few? Its appalling that my career has come to this. Thinking of you as I scan the appointments pages.
Love K
x
P.S. Give me a chance to reply, why dont you. Some of us do have better things to do than sit in front of a computer all day typing emails even if we arent on holiday.
When he finished it Dave re-read it a second time. It was hard to focus on her sudden interest in Ufology, or the latest rock-and-roll PR stunts, with such a clear subtext underpinning her every word. Was it his imagination or were there signs of a subtly increased level of affection tucked in there? Of course she always ended with Love K, though this time he got the sense shed wanted to say much, much more.
But wait a minute, she had only signed off with a single lower-case x. All last week shed used capitals, and on Wednesday shed used three. Dutifully Dave got out the small notebook he carried with him everywhere and entered this months total email kisses. At home he had a wall-planner solely devoted to graphically charting the perceived fluctuations in her affection; it would be filled in on his return.
It was at this moment that Dave concluded, not for the first time, that he was a very sad individual indeed. Yet if he could recognize that fact, didnt that mean he wasnt so sad after all? Or, alternately, all the sadder for being unable to do anything about it? Catching himself before he could slip into one of his all too unproductive bouts of doubt and self-loathing, of which this was just the relatively mild first stage, he composed another reply to the woman of his dreams. The fact that hed sent three now without response didnt deter him for an instant.
Dear Kate,
As you know, the trip so far has been a resounding success. Obviously I cant go into details over an open channel, but I know youll be enthralled when I show you my snaps of Area 51. The up-coming show on The Phenomena sounds good glad to see youve finally taken an interest. Perhaps you can get me tickets.
The people over here are so friendly Ive hardly had a moment to myself. Despite the impression I might have given in my last note, Im just friends with April and Nadine. Im meeting them both for drinks later. Who knows where well end up probably back in their jacuzzi again. Gosh, they wear me out.
Gotta run, Im giving a speech to the Nevada State Saucer Convention. Ill have to write it in the limo theyll send to pick me up.
Love as always, see you soon,
Dave
He didnt put any xs on the end of his mail. Despite the overwhelming emotions he felt for Kate, Dave couldnt bring himself to remind them both of it at every opportunity there was only so much his fragile ego could take. She knew how he felt about her, and he had no desire to appear as desperate as he actually was.
Dave felt no guilt over the little white lies he told to spice up the trip, Kate would see through them immediately. What was important was that Kate knew she hadnt entirely crushed his heroically indomitable spirit.
Dave was startled by the melodic chimes which signified incoming mail. For one second he thought it might be from her wasnt she getting eager? But when he saw the address his heart sank. It was undoubtedly junk-mail advertising some sordid anatomically-minded site. Who had ever heard of Alien@Outerspace.org anyway? Already filling with righteous indignation, he clicked open the message and read it, waiting to be incensed. He wasnt to be disappointed.
Greetings Earthling,
I am an Alien. Hard to believe I know, but in this case completely true.
If you want to meet up, I shall be at the Hungry Dog Diner, at the junction of Lincoln and Twelfth Street, for the next two hours. Its not far from your motel get back to the main street and walk three blocks west. When you arrive my companion will make himself known to you.
I need your help. Please come quickly, and be sure to come alone.
Yours,
An exotic Friend.
Dave snorted in disgust. Another feeble practical joke. He was reminded of the wave of obviously faked photographs his magazine had been sent over the previous month, and of that ridiculous Glastonbury stunt the lengths some hoaxers were prepared to go to made him shudder. Advanced alien civilizations no more used email to communicate with mankind than they used crop circles or thirteenth-century Mayan tomb carvings, despite what some of Daves esteemed colleagues might think. That some spotty thirteen-year-old hacker had obtained details of his personal account was only slightly less preposterous than the notion that aliens resort to 3D Martian landscape graffiti to get their message across.
When it came to his lifes work Dave had a very poor sense of humour. Hed met enough cranks in his time to take his privacy just as seriously as he took his UFOs. Theyd be at the diner all right hunched in some dingy corner, sniggering into their crusty keyboard laptop. He meant to find the individual responsible and give them a very stiff lecture on responsibility in this wired world. After all, he was a busy man. Or at least he would be if the Nevada State Saucer Convention ever actually phoned.
Even so, despite his best efforts Dave couldnt help a tiny buzz of intense hope charging through his veins. There was always the million-to-one chance that this tip-off was genuine. If he didnt check it out hed never know for sure. After all, it wasnt as if he had anything better to do. Grabbing his shades and wallet, Dave hurried to the door.
15. Rendezvous
Frank looked up from his cheeseburger and checked the highway one more time. Good no ice-cream vans, and none of the equally ubiquitous black stretch-limousines with the tinted windows, which the clandestine forces of government used when they were undercover and attempting to be discreet.
Hed cruised down Sunset Strip earlier that day in his stolen vehicle, experiencing a perplexing mixture of numb amazement and dim recognition. He knew this town, but he didnt think hed ever lived here, or even come to visit before. Driving past the casinos and the theme-park-sized hotels hed been struck by their splendour, but also by their monotonous familiarity.
Frank was reminded yet again of the one central fact of his existence there were huge chunks of his life which remained forever off limits to his straining memory. Over and above the fact that hed once served in a very special military unit, the rest was just a blur. These days he accepted his black patches the same way he accepted the ever-present mutterings in his head. It was that just at moments like this, when some small detail sparked a flash of recollection like the shape of a building, or the smell of gasoline from across the street it became hardest to bear. The voices didnt help. Though the upside of being a paranoid schizophrenic was at least you always had someone to talk to, even if the conversations werent up to much. The one claiming to be God which told him to go out and kill prostitutes was rather worrying, but he kept it well under control. Hed got the better of them and knew hed beat these memory lapses too. He swore hed beat them; he would do if it killed him.
At long last his aimless journey had taken him to the less opulent side of town. He didnt know where he was going, just that he was fleeing his former flat and the uninvited guests hed left many tired miles behind. The dull rumble from the trunk reminded him why theyd come a-calling.
When he spotted the run-down diner he experienced a maddening sense of déjà vu, all over again. He was sure hed been here before, just as he was sure the short-order chef was a huge shovel-handed New Yorker with Marine Corps tattoos plastered up each arm. It wasnt until hed almost drawn level with the establishment that he realized he hadnt eaten since his cereal that morning had been so rudely interrupted. His rumbling stomach had the final say in the matter. Swerving across two lanes of late-afternoon traffic he hung a left into the half-empty car park.
That had been more than two hours ago. In that time Frank had consumed four cheeseburgers, exchanging several wary nods of recognition with the sweat-laced kitchen-hand through the cluttered serving hatch.
For Frank this was a familiarly maddening experience. But you couldnt just go up to folks who seemed to recognize you to ask Where do you know me from? it got you funny looks at the very least. For the time being Frank contented himself with the thought that their acquaintance must date back to some chance encounter before his army service came to an abrupt and painful end. He didnt know for sure, but he felt certain hed been happier then, with the warm companionship of comrades-in-arms to pull him through. Hed been alone so long now hed almost forgotten what friendship meant.
Maybe he was going crazy. Carefully, he checked his hands for the first signs of palm-hair, just like the old wives tales advised. Outside in the trunk of his battered vehicle what was undoubtedly the find of the century was slowly rotting so why was he suddenly so assailed by doubt? Maybe he should hire a room and buy some whisky and pills to end it all. Was this war really worth the fight? Slowly Frank rubbed his throbbing temples. What he needed most of all was a confidant; someone to remind him, after hed gazed upon his insane find, or read that terrible book, that this was real after all and his mind hadnt entirely slipped its gears. He also had problems of a more practical nature like what to do next. Grand strategy had never been his area of expertise, the nitty-gritty of combat was his speciality. Frank needed an accomplice he could trust. He rocked slowly back and forth in his seat until his head sank so low it was scant inches above his plate. Closing his eyes he did something he hadnt done for years: Frank prayed for guidance, for some sign that his struggle wouldnt be in vain.
The sound of the bell above the doorway brought him sharply back to his senses Frank couldnt allow his survival instincts to let up for an instant. That was when he got his first clear look at the clean-cut young man who strode in like someone with a very definite mission in mind. But to be more precise it wasnt the first time Frank had spotted him; hed seen that face many times before, and that was why he now sat bolt upright in his chair. The newcomer had the sunburnt, gormless look of a tourist about him, but also the determined body language of a man searching for something he very badly needed to find.
There was no question how Frank recognized him. Not three days ago hed read his carefully chosen words, and studied the small grainy picture above his magazines editorial that was how he knew those serious, bookish features. Frank might have considered Dave to be hopelessly naïve in his conclusions, but there was no denying the young man produced a thorough and well-researched magazine, most of the time devoid of the usual mystic crap. For the moment, Frank was too shocked to appreciate his good fortune.
Pieces of half-chewed cheeseburger cascading down his tie-dyed T-shirt, he lurched to his feet and staggered towards the man he already felt he knew. Frank regretted not having tried religion sooner he could appreciate what folks saw in it now. It seemed his fervent prayers had been answered.
For his part Dave saw the sad perversion of a human being stumble towards him far too late to do anything about it. For one horrible moment he thought the wild-eyed freak was going to pull a gun and demand money. Either that or beg the price of a cup of coffee.
You you came so quickly. The vagrant croaked.
Dave spoke with some venom.
Of course I came quickly. When someone reaches me that way I always want to hear how they did it. Youre party to information not available to the general public and Id like to keep it that way. I hope you know how sensitive we are to such things.
Frank stared back at him with mounting admiration, and not a little awe. How could this man be so blasé about his breathtaking telepathic powers? He must take them for granted, just like any other individuals ability to read or write. And here he was asking Frank how hed done it the clairvoyant elite had obviously guarded its secrets jealously.
Frank lightly tapped the grubby side of his head, just below his tattered bandanna. Dont worry, chum, your secrets safe with me. Well say no more about it. Whats important is that you came.
Just make sure it doesnt happen again, Dave muttered. He looked the unkempt interloper up and down and came to a rapid but eerily perceptive conclusion. Just like Upton Park, this bloke was only two stops short of Barking. He was perhaps the most wizened man Dave had ever seen. His face had that lived in look. Dave got the distinct impression hed been round the block so many times hed lapped people twice his age. Old before his time, perhaps, but he was hale and hearty like a seasoned tiger. His taut skin was like tea-stained leather, his wiry beard could have comfortably housed a family of voles. He was as thin as a rake, but well corded with sinuous muscle from head to toe. Very slowly, as if speaking to the inmate of an asylum for the terminally inane, Dave spelled out every word for the crazed stranger. How did you recognize my face?