Meanwhile Nick stood up. “Hold it a minute,” he said, looking dubious and just a little confused. “Did I hear you right? Did you say you were given a communications bracelet by some extraterrestrials and then released into the ocean? And then the Navy picked you up and brought you back to Key West? Christ, Jefferson, you do have an imagination. Save your creativity for that computer game. Please just tell us the truth.”
“I am,” replied Troy. “Really — ”
“What did they look like?” Carol interrupted, her journalistic training taking over. She had pulled a small tape recorder, the size of a fountain pen, out of her purse. Troy reached over and switched it off.” For now, angel, “ he said, “this is strictly between us . . . I don’t think I saw any of them anyway. Just the wardens and the carpets. And my guess is that they’re just robots, machines of some type. Intelligent, yes, but controlled by something else — ”
“Jesus,” Nick interrupted, “you’re serious.” He was becoming exasperated. “This is turning into the most amazing shaggy dog story that I have ever heard. Wardens, carpets, robots. I am lost. Who are they? What are they doing in the ocean? And why have they given you a bracelet?” He picked up one of the little pillows on the couch and threw it across the room.
Carol laughed nervously. “Nick’s not the only one feeling frustrated, Troy. I was with you down there and I must admit that I’m having a hard time tracking your story. Maybe we should stop interrupting and let you talk. I’ve told Nick what happened in that solar system room up until you ran out and the thing or warden followed. Start from there, if you would, and tell the story in logical sequence.”
“I’m not sure there is such a thing as a logical sequence, angel,” Troy replied, echoing Carol’s laugh. “The whole episode defies logic altogether. The warden thing eventually trapped me in a blind alley and sort of anesthetized me with one of its rods. It was like I was dreaming, but the dreams were real. I remember a similar feeling, after a fistfight when I was a teenager. I had a small concussion then. I knew that I was alive, but I was very very slow to react. Reality seemed toned down, out there in the distance somewhere.
“Anyway, another warden character showed up, same kind of body but different fixtures sticking in the jelly, and carried me to what I think was an examination room. I don’t know exactly how long I was there. I was stretched out on the floor and touched by all kinds of instruments. My brain felt as if it were in superfast motion, but I don’t recall any specific thoughts. Some images I do remember. I relived my brother, Jamie, breaking through the line on a trap play and going forty-five yards for a touchdown in the Florida state championship. Then the bracelet was put on my wrist and I had the distinct impression that someone was talking to me. Very quietly, perhaps even in a foreign language, but every now and then I understood what was being said.
“What they told me,” Troy continued with an intense and distant expression on his face, “was that what we call the laboratory is really a space vehicle from another world. And that it has crash-landed, in a sense, on the Earth to allow time for some difficult repairs. They, that is, whoever built the ship, need help from us, from me and you, to obtain some of the specific items necessary for the repairs. Then they can continue on their journey.”
Nick was now sitting on the floor just opposite Troy. Both Carol and he were hanging on every word. They sat in silence for almost thirty seconds after Troy had finished. “If this story is true,” Nick finally spoke, “then we are — ”
There was a loud knock at the door. All three of them jumped. Several seconds later the knock repeated. Troy went to the door and partially opened it.
“There you are, you little shit,” Carol and Nick heard a gruff, angry voice say. Captain Homer Ashford pushed through the door. He didn’t see Nick and Carol at first. “We had a deal and you’ve welshed on it. You have been back two hours already . . .”
Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Homer saw that there were other people in the room. He turned around to talk to Greta, who had not yet entered the house. “Guess what?” he said. “Nick Williams and Miss Dawson are also here. No wonder we couldn’t find her at the hotel.”
Greta followed Homer into the living room. Her clear, expressionless eyes spent no more than one second staring at each of the trio. Carol thought she saw just a trace of disdain in Greta’s look, but she wasn’t certain. Homer turned to Carol, the tone in his voice markedly more civil. “We saw you two return from your excursion around two o’clock,” he said with a fake smile. “But somehow we missed Troy.” He winked at Carol and turned to Nick. “Find any more exciting trinkets today, Williams?”
Nick had never made any attempt to hide the fact that he did not like Captain Homer. “Why of course, Captain,” he answered, sneering the epithet, “would you believe we found a veritable mountain of gold and silver bars? Looked like that Santa Rosa stack we had on the boat one afternoon, must be about eight years ago. Remember? That was before Jake and I let you and Greta unload it.”
Homer’s voice had a nasty edge to it. “I should have sued you for slander, Williams. That would have shut your loud mouth once and for all. You had your day in court. Now knock off the crap, or one day you’ll have more trouble than you can handle.”
While Nick and Homer were trading insults and threats, Greta was strutting around the living room as if she were in her own house. She seemed to be oblivious to the conversation and even to the presence of the other people in the room. She was wearing a tight white muscle shirt and a pair of navy blue shorts. When Greta walked, she carried her arms high, her back straight, and her breasts erect. Carol was intrigued by her behavior. She watched Greta stop and sort through Troy’s compact discs. Greta pulled out the disc with the cover picture of Angie Leatherwood and licked her lips. This pair belongs in a kinky novel, Carol thought, as she overheard Troy tell Captain Homer that he was busy this afternoon but would get back to him later. What’s their story? wondered Carol. And where does fat Ellen fit in? Carol remembered that she was scheduled to interview the three of them later in the evening. But I’m not sure that I really want to find out.
“We were calling to tell you to bring your swimming suit tonight,” Captain Homer was addressing Carol. She had missed the first part of his statement while she was watching Greta parade around the room.
“Pardon me,” she said politely. “Could you repeat what you just said? I’m afraid I had drifted away for a few seconds.”
“I said that you should come early, about eight o’clock.” Homer replied. “And bring your suit. We have a most interesting and unusual pool.”
During this exchange, Greta walked up behind Nick and quickly reached both arms around him. With everyone else in the room watching, she lightly twisted his nipples through his polo shirt and laughed when he jumped. “You always did like that, ya, Nikki,” she said, releasing him after an instant. Carol saw anger flash in Homer’s eyes. Nick started to say something but Greta had already walked out the front door before he could register a protest.
“Be sure to call me when you’re through here, Homer said to Troy after an embarrassing silence. “We need to straighten out a few things.” The older man turned around, awkwardly, and without additional comment followed Greta toward his Mercedes parked in front of Troy’s house.
“Now where were we?” said Troy abstractedly, as he closed the door behind Homer and Greta.
“You,” said Nick with emphasis, “were telling us an amazing story and had almost reached the punch line, where you were going to tell us what we could do to help some aliens who landed here on Earth to repair their space vehicle. But first I, for one, would like some explanations. I don’t know if I believe any of this wild fairy tale you’re telling us, but I will admit that it is extremely creative. What concerns me at this minute, however, is not the issue of creatures from another world. It’s those two real-life sleazebag human beings who just left. What did they want? And are they somehow involved in our current adventure?”
?
??Just a minute, Nick,” Carol intervened. “Before we become sidetracked, I would like to know what kind of help these ETs of Troy’s want from us. A telephone? A new spaceship? Let’s find this out now and talk about Homer and your girlfriend Greta later.” Her reference to Greta was light and playful. Nick accepted it with good humor and feigned a wound. Then he nodded his assent to Carol’s suggestion. Troy pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and took a deep breath.
“Now you guys must understand that I’m not yet absolutely certain that I am properly receiving all their messages. But this particular transmission, where they list the things they need from us, is repeated every half hour. My interpretation of it hasn’t changed for the last ninety minutes, so I’m fairly certain that I have it right. It’s a long list and of course I don’t pretend to comprehend why they want all this stuff. But I am certain you will both find it very interesting.”
Troy started reading from his handwritten list. “They want an English dictionary and grammar, plus the same thing for four other major languages; an encyclopedia of plant and animal life; a compact world history; a statistical tract defining the current political and economic status of the world; a comparative study of the world’s major existing religions; complete issues covering the last two years of at least three significant daily newspapers; summary journals of science and technology, including surveys of weapon systems both deployed and under development; an encyclopedia of the arts, preferably including video and sound where appropriate; forty-seven pounds of lead; and fifty-eight pounds of gold.”
Nick whistled when Troy was finished. At Carol’s request, Troy handed the sheet to her and Nick read it another time over her shoulder, absorbing every item. Neither of them said anything. “Believe it or not,” Troy added as an afterthought about a minute later, “the first eight items are not too difficult to obtain. I stopped by the Key West Public Library on the way home from the marina and, for a fee, they are preparing for me a set of compact discs that contain virtually all of the requested information. The difficult items are at the end of the list. That’s where your help is needed.”
Troy stopped for a second to see if Nick and Carol were following him. “Just to make certain I understand.” Nick was now walking slowly around the room with the list in his hand, “what you want, or they want if you will, is for us to return to their laboratory or vehicle or whatever it is with all this information plus the lead and gold?” Troy nodded. “But fifty-eight pounds of gold? That’s about a million dollars’ worth. Where would we get it? And what would they do with it anyway?”
Troy acknowledged that he didn’t know the answers to those questions. “But I have the feeling,” he added, “again based upon what I think they are telling me, that partially satisfying their needs will make their task that much easier. So I guess we do what we can and hope that it’s enough.”
Nick shook his head back and forth. “You know, Carol,” he said as he handed the list back to her, “never in my wildest flights of imagination could I have concocted such an intricate and crazy scheme. This entire thing is so unbelievable and fantastic that it just begs to be accepted. It’s pure genius.”
Troy smiled. “So you will help after all?” he asked.
“I didn’t say that,” answered Nick. “I still have lots of questions. And of course I can’t speak for Miss Dawson. But somehow, even if it’s all make believe, the idea of playing the good Samaritan for an extraterrestrial ship is very appealing.”
During the next half hour both Carol and Nick questioned Troy extensively. Troy dismissed Homer and Greta in a hurry, simply stating that he had agreed on Thursday night to keep them informed about what was happening onboard the Florida Queen in exchange for a short-term loan. He also indicated that he never intended to really give them any information, but that was all right because they were crooks anyway. Nick was not completely satisfied with Troy’s explanation. He felt that he was not being told the whole truth.
In fact, the more questions he asked, the more doubt there was in Nick’s mind about the entire story Troy was telling. But what are the other options? Nick thought to himself. I have seen that carpet with my own eyes. If it is not an ET, or at least made by one, then it must be a very advanced robot designed by us or the Russians. As he continued to question Troy, Nick’s facile mind began to construct an alternative scenario, admittedly wild and improbable, but one that nevertheless explained all the events of the previous three days in a way that Nick found just as reasonable as Troy’s crazy story about the alien space vehicle.
Suppose somehow Troy and that turd Homer are working with the Russians. And this entire thing is just an elaborate cover for a rendezvous where illegal information will be passed. Homer would do anything for money. But why would Troy do it? Having Troy participate in a scheme to sell U.S. secrets to a foreign country was the acknowledged weakness in Nick’s alternative explanation, but he rationalized it by convincing himself that perhaps Troy needed a lot of extra money to pay for all the electronic equipment in his computer game.
He certainly couldn’t have saved enough money from his paltry salary, Nick continued thinking. So suppose these computer discs of Troy’s have secret military data instead of all that crazy information he just listed. Then the gold could this payoff . Or someone else’s. Nick asked several more questions about the gold. Troy admitted he did not understand very well what they were telling him, through the bracelet, about why they needed the lead and the gold. He just mumbled something about those two elements being difficult to produce by transmutation and then added nothing else.
For her part, Carol grew more and more convinced that the story Troy was telling was true. His inability to answer all the questions did not disturb her; as a matter of fact, given the rather fantastic nature of his story, if he had had pat answers to all the questions, she would have felt less assured of its truth. Despite her critical journalistic background, she found herself intrigued and a little enchanted by the idea that some superaliens from another world needed her help.
Carol’s intuition was just as important as her rational thought processes in the formation of her opinion. First of all, she trusted Troy. She watched him very carefully when he answered the questions and did not see the slightest indication that he was lying. She had no doubt that Troy believed he was telling the truth. But whether Troy was indeed telling the truth, or was instead being manipulated and directed by the very ETs that he was purporting to represent, was another issue altogether. But for what purpose? she reasoned. There’s not much that the three of us can do for them. Even the information they requested, except for the weapons stuff, is relatively innocuous. She temporarily set aside the notion that her friend Troy had become some kind of pawn for the aliens.
Carol could tell that Nick was growing more suspicious. Nick thought it was very peculiar that there were three Navy divers in the water at the exactly correct location when one of the carpets ushered Troy to the surface. And Troy’s report of the interrogation process after they had flown him to Key West was so confused that Nick became exasperated again.
“Christ, Jefferson,” he said, “you either have a very short or a very convenient memory. You tell us that the Navy kept you in custody for almost an hour, yet you hardly remember any of their questions and have no idea why they were interrogating you. That just doesn’t sound right to me.”
Troy was becoming a little angry. “Shit, Nick, I told you that I was tired. I had been through a traumatic experience. Their questions didn’t make sense to me. And the entire time I felt as if a little voice was trying to make itself heard inside my head.”
Nick turned to Carol. “I think I’m changing my mind. I don’t want to play in this game, no matter how clever it is. Homer and Greta annoy me, but I can deal with them if it’s necessary. On the other hand, the Navy scares me. There was some reason they were following us. It’s just too damn unlikely to be a coincidence. Maybe Troy knows something about it and maybe he doesn’t. I can’t tell. But
I don’t like the smell of it.”
He stood up to leave. Carol motioned for Nick to sit down and took a deep breath. “Look, you two,” she said in a low voice. “I have a confession to make. And it seems as if this is the perfect time to make it I did not come down here to Key West to look for whales.” She glanced at Nick. “And not for treasure either. I came here to check out a rumor that a new Navy missile had gone astray and crashed in the Gulf of Mexico.” She paused several seconds to let her message register. “I probably should have told you earlier. But I never found the right time. I’m truly sorry.”
“And you thought the missile was in the fissure,” said Troy a few seconds later. “Which was why you came back yesterday.”
“We were going to salvage it for you and give you a worldwide scoop,” added Nick, his feeling of betrayal softened somewhat by the obvious sincerity of her apology. “You were using us all the time.”
“You could call it that,” Carol conceded, “but as a reporter, I don’t see it that way.” She noticed the tension in the room. Nick seemed especially guarded. “But now it doesn’t matter anyway,” she continued. “What is important is that I have given an explanation for the Navy’s presence at the dive site. During the last two days I have made several inquiries at all levels about the clandestine activities that the Navy currently has underway to search for the missile. Last night that Mexican lieutenant got a good look at our best close-ups of the missile in the fissure. Undoubtedly someone put two and two together.”
“Look, angel,” Troy spoke after another short silence, “I don’t know anything about a missile. And too much is going on for me to be hurt because you lied to me. I’m sure you had your reasons. What I need to know now is whether or not you will help me take this stuff back to the ETs or aliens or whatever you want to call them.”
Before Carol could answer, Nick stood up again and started walking toward the door. “I’m very hungry,” he announced, “and I want to think through this entire situation. If you don’t mind, Troy, I’ll have an early supper and meet you later on tonight with my answer.”