SOMETHING WOKE HIM from a dreamless sleep.
He lay on his back, blinking up at the ceiling, and it was a few seconds before he became aware of the soft golden glow emanating from the adjacent lounge.
He sat up carefully, so as not to disturb Sally, pulled on a pair of shorts and moved to the open door. On the way he took the softscreen from where he’d left it on the bedside table, an instinctive action he was hardly aware of making.
He moved to the threshold of the lounge, and stopped.
Someone… something… was sitting on the edge of an armchair on the far side of the room.
Allen took a step forward, then another, and dropped into a chair opposite the figure.
It was humanoid and glowed with a golden lustre, its surface seamless and unmarked, but beneath its surface, within the creature, paler golden lights moved and roiled. It sat forward on the chair, its elbows on its knees, hands clasped, and seemed to be staring across at Allen. Seemed to be, for its face was without eyes or other features.
Allen thought of the head-and-shoulders shape that had stared down at him during his episode aboard the plane, and now, as then, felt an abiding sense of peace.
He surprised himself by asking, “Why don’t I feel in the least frightened?”
The figure stared at him. He had the odd, inexplicable impression that it was somehow larger than the dimensions it presented here.
It replied, but he was unable to tell if he heard the words, or if they somehow simply manifested in his head.
“Because there is nothing to be frightened about, Geoffrey Allen.”
“This… why you are here… it’s about what happened to me on the flight out?”
“This is the corollary of that experience, yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“We mean, I am here because of what we did to you then, Geoffrey Allen.”
He sat back in the chair. He needed its support. He took deep breaths and asked, “And what did you do to me?”
“We chose you,” it said.
Allen nodded, as if this were a very reasonable explanation. “And why did you choose me?”
“Because you were deemed suitable.”
“Suitable…?” he echoed. He glanced back at the bedroom door, slightly ajar, and considered Sally sleeping in there. Was this a hallucination, a hypnagogic episode brought about by lack of sleep and the excitement of recent events?
“Suitable for what?”
The figure did not answer at once, and the wait was almost unbearable.
“Suitable for what lies ahead, for the changes that will visit your race, your planet. We need people like you to present the human face of that change.”
His blood felt as if it had turned to a slurry that his heart was having difficulty pumping around his body. He said, “Who are you, and why are you here, and… and what changes are you speaking of?”
“We are in the employ of the S’rene, or the Serene, as you will come to call them.”
“But… but you’re not one of the S’rene yourself?”
The figure inclined its featureless domed head. “I am a self-aware entity in the employ of the S’rene,” it said.
“And the S’rene? Who are they? What are they?”
“The S’rene are a race that hails from a star known as Delta Pavonis. They are peaceable, and benign.”
“And the reason you, they… are here?”
A pause. Then, “To help you,” it said.
“To help us?” he echoed, with the first stirrings of excitement.
“To help you, before you destroy yourselves,” said the golden figure.
“That would be inevitable?”
The figure, the self-aware entity as it called itself, inclined its head again. “That would be inevitable. The S’rene have seen it happen before, to other races, before they were in any position to help.”
“Other races…?” Allen said, his mind spinning.
“Hundreds…” It paused, then went on, “The galaxy teems with life, with civilisations, a concordance rich beyond your imagining.”
His cheeks felt suddenly wet. He realised he was weeping.
“And how will you help us?”
“We have started already,” it said. “But that is only the start. Much work lies ahead, much change. The world, life as you know it, will alter for you out of all recognition.”
Allen nodded. “And how can I help?”
The figure stood suddenly. When seated, it had given no indication of its true dimensions. Standing, it appeared at least seven feet tall, as proportionally broad, and it reached out a hand to him now.
“Your softscreen…”
He fumbled with it, standing before this towering giant, and held out the softscreen. The golden figure touched it, then dropped its hand to its side.
“That is all?” Allen asked.
“You will go to Entebbe at eleven in the morning. Present your ’screen at the information desk in terminal two. A vessel will be waiting to take you to the Nexus.”
“The Nexus?”
The figure gestured to the screen in Allen’s hand. It flared, startling him. Upon the screen, he saw, was an image of the conjoined starships above the greened Sahara.
“The Nexus,” said the figure.
“And there?”
“There, you will learn how you and others like you will help to bring about the change.”
Allen sat back down again, or rather slumped, and when he looked up he saw that the figure that had stood before him, so imposing and dominant, had vanished.
He was aware of another figure on the edge of his vision.
Sally stood, naked, in the doorway to the bedroom.
“Geoff… I heard you talking, and when I…” She came to him. He stood quickly and hugged her to him, needing her reassurance.
“Christ, Sally…”
“What happened?”
“You didn’t see…?” He gestured to the opposite chair.
“I saw you talking to yourself. You seemed agitated, overcome with emotion. I saw you stand, and then you held out the ’screen, and moments later it suddenly flared, and you gasped.”
He stared into her eyes in the semi-darkness of the room. “Sally,” he said, “they are the Serene, and they have come to help us.”
She took his hand and led him gently back into the bedroom.
“Come to bed,” she said, “and tell me all about it.”
THEY LEFT THE park at first light and drove south-east to Entebbe.
“Apprehensive?”
He thought about it for all of three seconds. “Oddly, no. Like last night, that figure… had someone said beforehand that I’d be confronted by an extraterrestrial… self-aware entity, as it called itself, I would have thought I’d’ve been scared to death. As it was…” He shook his head. “They instil reassurance in us, Sally. We have nothing to be apprehensive about.”
“It’s a lot to take on trust.”
He agreed. “It is.” But how to explain the sensation of benignity that the representative of the Serene had emanated last night?
They arrived at Entebbe fifteen minutes before eleven and parked in the shadow of terminal two. Allen had no idea what to expect as he entered the airport and approached the information desk, Sally at his side.
A smiling Ugandan woman took his ’screen, scanned it and passed it back. “If you would like to make your way to departure lounge three, there will be a representative waiting.”
They crossed the busy concourse and hesitated before the check-in.
“So much for a week’s quiet holiday together,” she said.
They stood facing each other, Geoff began to speak, then fell silent.
“What?” Sally asked.
He laughed. “Oddly, I don’t want to go, Sal. I don’t want to leave you.”
She pushed him playfully. “Don’t be silly. You’ve got to go.”