“Okay, what we need to know now is where to go from here?” said Jim.
“Sir, can I play catch-up? Just how the hell did you get her into the Air Force so damn quick, or is this not what it seems?” Kyle asked.
“Kyle, Michelle contacted me last evening, and so yesterday I contacted the General. It seems we are flavour of the month again, and tomorrow a group of visitors will be attending the base for a discussion and a display of Michelle’s, ah, qualities.”
“What visitors?”
“I had to explain that I had been approached by someone who had been in contact with our visitors, and that she was in a position to give us valuable insight into various aspects of their strategy and intentions. I also said that she needed to be kept in the loop, and that a commission in the Air Force in her new identity was the ideal solution.”
Kyle frowned.
“And he went for it, just over the phone?”
“Not just over the phone.” said Michelle. “I had to give him a little tweak, just to clear away any reservations he may have had.”
“Shit, you can do that?” Kyle asked.
“Yes, but rather like a hypnotist, the subject has to be amenable and willing to go that way.”
“So, the General approved, you get your new identity, the Air Force gets another officer. As the boss said, where do we go from here?”
Michelle looked at these two men. Kyle was a doctor first, and an Air Force officer second. He was intelligent and determined to understand the alien physiology. It was a burning ambition, for as soon as he became aware of them, he wanted to understand them and know more.
Jim, on the other hand, wanted to understand what they wanted, and whether humans entered into their scheme of things, in what capacity. He had seen things that few other people had and, although subject of mental interference, he had a high level of resistance to their attempts to cleanse his memories of anything concerning them.
“One, you have to understand that they are not here as a militaristic or acquisitive mission. They are a very ancient race, and nearing the end of their time. They are long-lived and few in number. Their home system sun went supernova a long time ago, so they have been destined to roam the stars seeking a host planet to continue their existence.
“Earth is one of a few planets capable of sustaining them. They have numerous colonies already on this planet. All their colonies are independent and have little connection with the others. They select the more remote and less populated areas for their sites, and keep their involvement with the local area to a minimum.
“What you have to understand is that they are a dying race. Their birth rate has dropped to an alarming figure, which means that deaths occur more frequently than births. Although they might live a lot longer than us, they will only have one or two offspring in their long lives. Life is priceless, so they are respectful of life in all its forms, even nasty human lives.”
Jim watched the tall girl as she spoke. She was articulate, and spoke with no hint of her Ukrainian accent. In fact, her English was faultless, and had no accent he could discern. It was real British English, without the nasal upper-class whine.
“Just who the hell are you, Michelle?” he asked.
She smiled.
“I’m me. In fact, I can be whoever I want to be, but in time I may tell you,” she said.
Jim nodded.
“Ever been to New Mexico?” he asked.
“You mean like Roswell?” she asked, teasing him.
“No, never mind. It can wait.”
Michelle smiled, while Kyle watched the exchange with interest. He knew she was not anything to do with sergeant Dunwoody, as he had taken the DNA samples himself. What was the Colonel after?
<<He still thinks I’m that policeman,>> she thought to Kyle.
<<Are you?>>
<<What do you think?>>
<<No, there is no way you could ever have been a male.>>
<<I love you too, sweetheart.>>
Jim watched the other two, as his own mind was clicking over. He was only too well aware that this girl was an enormous risk, but she was also the most important potential breakthrough he could have wished for.
<<I’m also not an enemy.>>
He smiled. That was the third problem, as there was no hiding from her.
<<I do not intrude all the time, but I’ve trained myself to be aware of when others think about me. It’s called self-preservation.>>
“It would be helpful to see exactly what you are capable of,” he said.
“Okay. Physically or mentally?”
“Both.”
“Well, you know I can read minds, so that’s not a problem. I can manipulate minds to a degree, in that I can just gently suggest a particular course of thought or action, or I can eradicate memories completely. Thus I’m able to literally walk past someone, and they will never remember seeing me.”
“What about the Russian incident?” Kyle asked.
She smiled.
“Ah, that’s the other thing. You really never want to piss me off. I was able to persuade one person to shoot another, several times. Useful really, but not something I enjoyed, and neither am I particularly proud of it. But the police were hopeless, so I had to do something. After all, the bastards killed my fiancé and damn near succeeded in killing me.”
“There was one man who had no marks on him, yet his brain was severely traumatised.”
“Oh, that was the boss, Big Ivan. I was quite impressed with that. It was really quite amazing. I simply pointed my finger, like this,” she said, pointing her right index finger at Kyle, who immediately pushed it so it pointed away.
“Just point that somewhere else, if you don’t mind.”
“Sorry, Kyle, nothing personal, and this one isn’t loaded. And then I simply said, ‘bang.’, and he sort of died,” she concluded, and both men stared at her still pointing finger.
“Bang?” asked Jim.
“Bang,” she said, and grinned. “But I did focus as much mental force behind it as I could. But it seemed to do the trick.”
“Okay. We get the picture. What about physically?” Jim asked.
“Eyesight, enhanced by a factor of ten. Hearing, similar, and selective to different frequencies and levels. Smell, they kindly left alone, but strength and endurance. Put it this way, if I went in for the Olympics, I’d come away with a heck of a lot of Gold medals.”
“In what area?” asked Kyle.
“Every area, sweetheart. Is there a gym here?” she said.
Twenty minutes later, having changed into a leotard and jogging bottoms, Michelle entered the base gym. It was well equipped, and had everything one would expect in a modern gym.
Kyle and Jim appeared, still in uniform.
She smiled.
“Not joining me?” she asked, and they grinned.
There were a few servicemen working out on the apparatus.
“Okay, where would you like me to start?”
Jim looked around.
“Your choice.”
She went to the running machine.
She started it off and gradually worked it up until it was at maximum elevation, and she was running at a fast sprint. The two officers watched as she completed the first mile, up hill and in a time of 3.23 minutes. But she kept going, and clocked the second mile in 6.45 minutes.
The other men walked over and stared in awe at the female athlete. She finished three miles in 7.3 minutes.
“No way, man,” said a burly sergeant, who could not believe his eyes.
“That just ain’t possible,” another remarked.
Michelle was hardly breathing heavily, and she certainly looked as fresh as she had been at the start.
She smiled at the men, and walked over to the bench press. She set the weight at the maximum, so one of the weight lifters went to tell her that it was way too heavy for her, but Jim held his hand out.
“She knows what she’s doing.”
She bench pressed 300 pounds, and hardly looked as if it was an effort.