WILLIAM E. LOPEZ

 

 

Approx. 1,498 words

Copyright © 2001 by W. E. Lopez

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EXPLORING

By

W. E. Lopez

 

A sudden brightness flared inside Jan’s head and brought her to instant wakefulness.  She managed to sit up and found she had been lying on the floor in an apparently strange motel room.  Shakily, she got to her feet and knew she was going to be in big trouble; a man’s body lying on the floor on the other side of the bed.  She didn’t see any blood, but somehow she knew the man was dead.  He was fully dressed, as was she, and she was relieved there hadn’t been that kind of a problem.

Through the drawn curtains she became aware of flashing red and blue lights.  Jan had seen enough movies to know the police were just outside.  An amplified electronic voice called, “Come out now, Morissey.  Give yourself up and no one will get hurt!”

Morissey, could that be the dead man’s name?  Jan had no idea of what had gone before.  The voice called again, “Let the woman go and come out with your hands in the air!”

What the hell is going on here, Jan asked her self?  She didn’t remember any heavy drinking… had someone slipped her a drug?

“Uh, sheriff?  Officer?” she called.  “My name’s Jan Hardy!  There’s a dead man lying on the floor here but I have no idea who he is or how I came to be here!”

“Okay, lady… we hear you.  Stand back now, we’re going to hit the door!”

Jan backed away from the door until she was standing against the opposite wall.  There was a crash as a heavily booted foot struck the door and it flew inward.  Suddenly she found herself confronted by three armed men in SWAT black.  They quickly swarmed into the motel room.  One of the men in black held a shotgun pointed at her and she raised her empty hands to the ceiling.  The other two checked the bathroom and clothes closet, then the dead man.

“CLEAR!” the man kneeling over the body called.

Three more individuals entered the room, filling it to capacity.  A man in blue carrying an EMT bag kneeled over the dead man, accompanied by a uniformed officer.  “No vitals here,” he told another man in a dark gray suit.  “I guess the party’s over.”

          “You can lower your hands now,” the man in the suit told Jan.  “I’m Detective Houser, Greenville Police.  Can you tell us what has happened here?”

“Not really,” Jan said as she brushed a hand through her hair.  “I suddenly awoke, lying on the floor, when I heard you calling from outside.”

Houser was distracted by a commotion outside the motel room.  “You can’t go in there, Miss… Miss...!”

She came into the motel room with a badge held high and announced, “Special Agent Kerry Martin, FBI.  I’ll try to keep out of your way.”  She stepped over to the body on the floor just as the paramedics were rolling him onto a backboard.  “Yep, that’s him,” she said softly.  She looked around and her eyes settled on Houser as the only suit in the room.  “You in charge here?” she asked.

“I like to think so, Agent Martin.  Can I see your ID once more?”  Houser checked the photo ID she presented for his inspection.  “Okay, you’re federal.  What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Can we continue this at your headquarters,” the woman asked.  “Mean while, I think you should put out an all points on the woman here.”

“What?  You’re kidding,” Houser said.  Why put out an APB for someone already in custody?

“I’m not laughing,” the FBI woman said.  “Humor me, please.  I’ll explain when we get to your station house.”

“Shall I cuff the witness?” Houser asked.

“Don’t be sarcastic.  She’s harmless and most likely doesn’t know a thing.  Just bring her along for her own protection.  We don’t want any of your other men arresting her by mistake.”

The assembled police officers, the witness, Special Agent Kerry Martin and Detective Sergeant Gene Houser left the motel room and loaded into half a dozen squad cars and the SWAT van in the parking lot.  Ten minutes later, Agent Martin was briefing Detective Houser behind closed doors.

“We’ve been after Morissey for three days,” she said.  “Before that he was Sandra Beaumont in Plainville, Indiana.  Three days before that he was Tony Durand in Whitefish, Arkansas.  Before that he was Susan Townsley in Beckley, Alabama…”

“Are you sure you haven’t been drinking or smoking something, Agent Martin?  He, she, the dead man, you’ve been following them across country?”

“I know it sounds odd, Detective, but it’s the truth.  In every case, there has been an unexplained disappearance of a man or a woman, usually followed by a robbery or murder or other act of violence.  After 72 hours the perpetrator, the one you just found in the motel room, suddenly dies.  Followed by another disappearance and the cycle repeats.  It’s like he uses the body for three days and then dumps it, but we always find the real individual alive and well and not too far from the body.  I think we just caught up with the suspect as he was changing again, this time to Jan Hardy. 

“Trust me, your men will find a duplicate of the woman in your squad room somewhere nearby, unless the double manages to get out of town fast.”

“That’s crazy,” Houser said.  No sooner had he spoken than two uniformed officers entered the squad room with a doppelganger of the Hardy woman, arms cuffed behind her.  “Well, I’ll be a son of a….”

“We’ve got it now,” Agent Martin said.  “I’m gonna use your phone, Detective.  We’ve got several hundred agents combing the south looking for this subject.  We’ll need reinforcements now.  I want you to keep anyone from the press out of here, and caution all your men not to say a thing unless cleared by the Bureau.”  She turned away from him and picked up the phone.  Houser stood dumfounded as the scene in the squad room suddenly froze.

Officer Jensen was talking with Sergeant Malloy who was sticking a cigarette in his mouth.  His hand stopped at least six inches from his face and stayed there, frozen.

Officer Craig was typing a booking report with a teenaged prostitute sitting along side his desk.  Suddenly his fingers froze in mid air.

Frank Savoy, the desk sergeant was pouring a cup of coffee from the large coffee maker behind his desk.  Suddenly the brown liquid appeared to freeze and stop pouring.

Gene Houser watched all of this from his own frozen position of immobility.  He heard Agent Martin as she began to push the buttons on the telephone, then there was an abrupt silence.

A faint blue shimmer entered the squad room and went directly to the doppelganger.  Suddenly the woman’s arms were freed of the hand cuffs behind her back and a second shimmering image appeared in the air where she had been standing and her body suddenly dropped to the floor like a marionette with the strings cut.

“We had to free you for our own safety, Rab,” the blue shimmer telepathed to the new arrival.  “Something has gone wrong and we must leave this planet.”

“I’m aware of that,” Zurn.  “I assembled my corporeal body from raw elements in the immediate vicinity of each Earthling and set about to learn what I could of this world and these beings.  But something was flawed.  I felt myself unable to prevent violent acts upon others of this species.  Thinking the fault may be with only one sex, I transmuted into a member of the opposite sex the next time, but the violence continued.  Perhaps it is a chemical in the bloodstream of this species?  Perhaps something in the atmosphere?”

“We’ll continue analysis when we return to the ship, Rab.  For now, we will simply post this planet as dangerous until a more scientific examination can be made.”

“I agree, Zurn.  Here There Be Dragyns.’  Let’s return to the ship and be away lest this condition become permanent.”

The two shimmering images drifted through the door of the squad room, which had closed after the last human had entered.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Frank Savoy shouted as the hot coffee overflowed his cup and splattered both legs of his trousers.

“Hey!  What happened?” Officer Larry Abbott said.  “I never touched her!  She just dropped to the floor!”

Sergeant Malloy finally managed to get the cigarette in his mouth and flicked a Bic while Officer Craig looked up from his typewriter to see what the commotion was all about.

As Rab and Zurn boarded their craft, Zurn said, “You realize there will be an inquiry, Rab.”

“Yes, I know, there always is in these matters.  But the council acknowledges that exploring can be fraught with danger and unforeseen happenings.  We did not intentionally set out to harm any of the humans.  The final report should not be too severe.”

“I agree, Rab.  You have to expect some casualties as the cost of exploring alien planets.  Why, it might possibly have been one of us!”

“That’s not an encouraging thought, Zurn.  Not encouraging at all!”

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