Read Foreigner - A Science Fiction Short Story Page 3


  *

  I could hear footsteps around me and people talking. In that blissful moment of not knowing what had happened to me, I actually believed I was back home, but then reality slowly sank in and as my memories came back, so did the fear of having been taken away by beings that looked like humans, only weren't.

  I opened my eyes and saw only darkness around me. I couldn't quite breathe properly, and realised my head was covered with a hood.

  I could also feel handcuffs digging into my wrists and a steel chair supporting me.

  It would be futile to fight, so I sat there awaiting my fate. I could still hear footsteps, and now it also sounded like two people were whispering.

  Then there was the sound of a heavy door being locked.

  The hood was removed and I was face to face with another man. I blinked through my watery eyes, trying to adjust to the bright lights. The man looked at me, his poker face not giving anything away. He was of heavier build and wore a black suit. His greying hair suggested he was nearing his fifties, but he had bright eyes and flawless skin. The man gently placed the hood on the table between us.

  He cleared his throat and tapped the table with his thick index finger.

  "Mr Anderson, my name is Officer Pearce," he said, emphasising my last name as he looked at my suit, which had F. Anderson sewn into the left breast pocket. "Let's make this nice and simple. Why don't you start by telling me your real name? This will save you a lot of pain and trouble, believe me. I'm a busy man and I don't have time for any of your bullshit."

  I could not believe what I was hearing. Not only was I stunned by the fact that he spoke perfect English, but he seemed like any other normal man back on Earth. And for some strange reason, he didn't believe Frank Anderson was my real name.

  All I could do was shake my head in disbelief. I had no idea what to say to him.

  "What? Don't you speak English?" he asked.

  "I - ah… Yes, sir. I speak English."

  The man leaned back in the chair and locked eyes with me.

  "Well, that's a start. Okay, now tell me your name."

  "Frank Anderson."

  He laughed, but there was no humour in it. I could tell he was frustrated and growing more impatient.

  "Okay," he said. He flexed his jaw and I worried he would lose his composure and my head would come crashing down on the steel desk at the force of his big hands.

  "Sir, I'm sorry, but I am telling you the truth," I said.

  I knew I would not be leaving here until this man heard what he wanted to hear. Yes, I was in serious danger, knowing that I was a foreigner - an alien on this planet, despite its striking similarities to humans and Earth back home, but I also knew that if I didn't tell him the truth, I would die on this planet and never see Anna again.

  He looked at me with one thick eyebrow arched. Amused and intrigued, but he didn't respond, so I continued.

  "My fellow crewmembers, Andy Sullivan, Leo Merov and Sam Griffin all died in the crash of the Alpha spaceship. We were on an expedition from Earth to Alpha Q741 a recently discovered Earth-like planet, but our ship was hit by a meteoroid and somehow we ended up on this planet. I am the sole survivor, and as I'm sure you would have already seen, the ship is not operational. I must return home as soon as possible."

  The man looked at me with an unreadable expression. Then he shook his head and retrieved a packet of cigarettes. On the red and white packet, the letters spelled Marlboro.

  I couldn't believe it. What the hell was going on?

  "I see this is pointless, and it looks like you've lost your marbles, young man," he said, leaning closer. He lit his cigarette and blew the first puff of smoke in my face.

  "Let me tell you a secret… This. Is. Earth," he whispered and leaned back in his chair. Then he laughed so hard, the last few chuckles turned into a smoker's coughing fit.

  I thought I was going to be sick. I could feel the acid rising in my chest and up my throat. I swallowed hard, closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  That is impossible…

  Just when the man composed himself again, the door opened, and a beautiful blonde woman walked in. She too was dressed in a black suit and she wore black high heels. She didn't look at me once. The woman leaned in to whisper something into Pearce's ear, handed him a tablet and left again, closing the door behind her.

  Pearce's face had turned dead serious after the woman had spoken to him.

  After she had left, Pearce looked at me, his expression one of utter disbelief. Now it seemed, he was the one who has been rendered speechless.

  He activated the tablet and the holographic screen emerged from its base again, then flicked through several pages, one of which I was certain showed a photo of my crewmembers and myself. But I couldn't speak. I wasn't sure what to think anymore.

  This is Earth… he had said to me. Where the hell was I? A journey of over six months does not end back on Earth. Could it be that this was an alternate dimension? A different reality?

  "Well," Pearce said, freeing me from my thoughts. "You say your name is Frank Anderson?"

  I nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

  "Could you tell me your date of birth?"

  "I was born on the fifth of March 2042."

  Pearce's face went stone cold. He turned his attention back to the tablet and flicked to the page with my photo in it. I recognised it now. It had been taken three weeks before we left Earth.

  "That's impossible," he muttered to himself.

  He kept looking at me, then back at the photograph as if he must be missing something.

  The door opened again and this time the woman glanced at me for a split second. She was terrified of me. This time however, she stopped by the door and said, "No chip has been located, sir."

  Pearce could no longer hide his shock. He thanked the woman, and she left again. Then he looked at me and asked me to tell him everything from the beginning. And so I did.

  Two cups of coffee and a glass of water later, I finished telling Pearce every single detail there was to tell about the expedition, my fellow crewmembers and myself.

  He shook his head, still unable to fathom what I had just shared.

  "Thank you, Anderson," he said.

  "I believe it's only fair if I tell you the reason for us keeping you here," he added.

  Suddenly he seemed sympathetic towards me. His hostility had vanished in a matter of seconds.

  "This… situation is a little complicated to say the least. As I've already told you, this is Earth. The planet Earth. You and I are the same. I assure you, you did not crash on some alien planet that is similar to Earth," he explained.

  "We still don't know exactly how and why this happened and believe me, we are working on it as we speak, but it seems that your ship somehow crossed through alternate dimensions. You see, the year here is 2155."

  This was the moment I thought I was going to pass out. I could already feel my consciousness fading, and if it weren't for Pearce passing me another glass of water, I would have blacked out.

  I took a few sips and the soothing cold immediately pulled me back into the present.

  "2155?" I asked.

  Pearce nodded, although he too was struggling to believe it.

  "That means, I somehow ended up seventy-nine years in the future, in an alternate dimension?" I asked, but didn't really expect an answer, because there was no way Pearce could say for sure either.

  He shrugged and then said, "It appears so."

  Then he added, "This theory seems even more plausible by the fact that your body scan, which we performed while you were unconscious, didn't locate a microchip. Every single person has one implanted in their neck. It has been like this since 2060."

  I was stunned, but above all I was exhausted. There was so much to process and everything I had just found out was more than I could take. All I wanted to do was sleep and pray this was all a bad dream.

  "I am so sorry, Frank," Pearce
said, sensing my thoughts.

  "I have to figure out a way to get back home… my home," I said, in complete shock.

  "We'll get onto this as soon as we can, but for now, you should get some rest. And my apologies in advance, the holding cell is all we can offer you at the moment. Unfortunately you are not free to go yet."

  The next morning, the blonde woman brought me breakfast. She placed the tray on the small table beside me and smiled.

  "I thought you might be hungry," she said.

  "Thank you."

  "I hope you managed to get some sleep. These bunks don't look too comfortable."

  "It's ok. I was very tired, so I didn't mind," I lied.

  "I'm sorry," she said awkwardly, "my name is Alison. I'm Pearce's assistant."

  "Nice to meet you Alison," I said and sipped the cold orange juice.

  "Anyway, I better get back to work. I just wanted to say goodbye in case we don't see each other again. I hope they find a way to bring you back home… back to your Earth."

  She smiled and before I could reply, she had already closed the door behind her.

  I ate my breakfast. It was a ham and cheese sandwich and a jam filled donut. When I finished, Pearce came to get me and led me to a large meeting room.

  A man with white hair and a thick moustache was already sitting there with his arms crossed. As we entered, he stood to greet us and shook my hand.

  "Professor Phillis, this is Frank Anderson," Pearce said.

  Phillis looked at me as if I was an alien and a tentacle would jump out of my mouth any moment.

  We took our seats, and Phillis went straight to business.

  "Frank, my team and I have worked through the night trying to identify how the Alpha spacecraft managed to return after leaving Earth seventy-nine years ago and how it is possible for you to still be alive. As it turns out, the only explanation we have - and despite your predicament I am sure you would appreciate just how exciting this revelation is to science and the knowledge we have of the universe - is that there are alternate realities, dimensions if you like, which exists simultaneously and independently of one another. This means Earth is duplicated at least twice, and everything in it has also been duplicated. You were born here on this Earth as well. In fact, we already have a memorial set up in honour of you and your crew. Back in 2080, four years after you, or more like another you, and your crew left this Earth, we knew the Alpha expedition had failed. However, we still don't know its fate. Chances are, exactly the same happened. So, in an alternate dimension another you, Pearce and I are having this conversation right now."

  I listened and concentrated hard to try and make sense of what Phillis was saying. Somehow it did make sense, but I was still struggling to come to terms with it all.

  "NASA have detected an energy field, over 900,000 kilometres away from Earth, but it has started to shrink over the last three hours. We believe it may be the reason your spacecraft landed here. It seems the energy field is a wormhole that made it possible for you to reach our reality."

  Phillis' words were music to my ears. There was actually a chance I could return home. Pearce noticed my sigh of relief and quickly said, "I'm sorry, Frank, but at this stage we don't have the resources, let alone the permission to launch a craft into space. We didn't mean to get your hopes up."

  "But you said that the energy field, the wormhole is shrinking. It could be closing and then my chance of returning will be gone forever," I said.

  How could they not allow me to leave this Earth? This wasn't my planet. This is not where I belong. I had no choice but to return home. The Alpha mission was over, but my discovery of an alternate reality - a second Earth, and my beautiful Anna waiting for me, were the reason I simply had to find a way back.

  "We understand your concern and we are still monitoring the energy field closely, should it really start to close. However, as you would know, launching a spacecraft or even funding a repair for the Alpha craft is not an option at this stage. This leads me to my next point and Frank, I'm afraid it's also bad news," Phillis said.

  Phillis locked eyes with Pearce as if he was waiting for approval to go ahead. Pearce nodded and looked back down at his tightly clasped hands resting on the table.

  I already sensed that whatever they were about to tell me, would be much worse than the fact my only way of getting home was closing its doors as we spoke.

  "Even if we had a spaceship ready to send you home in and let's say you survive the journey back to your dimension through the wormhole, if you were to arrive back on your Earth, our calculations estimate that over two hundred years have passed since you left." Phillis said, cautiously watching me.

  I swallowed hard and looked at him. I understood every single word he said, but hoped I was mistaken.

  "What are you saying exactly?" I asked, fearing he would only confirm what I already understood.

  "I'm saying that even if you manage to return home right now, the Earth you would be returning to would be about two-hundred years in the future. You wouldn't have a home to return to," he said.

  The rest of that meeting was a haze. I remember slamming my fists on the desk, throwing the chair I had been sitting on at the wall behind me and screaming over and over that this was impossible. After I settled back down and composed myself again, Pearce brought me a cup of coffee. Phillis was long gone by then, and it was just Pearce and I sitting in the room.

  "I am really sorry, Frank. For everything… We have already arranged for your accommodation and a few other necessities for you to start your life fresh on this Earth. Perhaps after a few months, once you've settled in, we would like to discuss your future employment at NASA. We'll have a car waiting to pick you up in an hour," he said, and headed for the door.

  He turned back to me before closing the door and said, "This is your home now, Frank."

  Then he left.

  *

  Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and my time on this Earth was moving painfully slow. I struggled to adapt. I cried almost every day and not committing suicide had become a daily battle.

  I wasn't ready to work at NASA yet, but when I found out that the wormhole had closed completely, more than three months after the Alpha craft had crashed on this Earth, I knew I wasn't going anywhere.

  I regularly visited Anna's grave, wondering if this Anna was the same as my Anna back home. The headstone next to Anna's read Maximillian Johnson. This Anna married him seven years after the Frank from this Earth left for his Alpha expedition.

  I crouched in front of the two graves, wondering what their lives must have been like. This man, who was now buried next to my lovely wife, had lived my life - the life I was robbed of. If only I had never left for Alpha. If only the meteoroid hadn't struck us. If only…

  These days I often find myself staring at the night sky, wondering if in some alternate dimension, some other Earth there lived a Frank Anderson, who made the right decision and lived the life I never got to live.

  Thank you for reading FOREIGNER!

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