She had found that she had come to terms with her gender remarkably quickly, and the Captain had confessed that they had to ‘tweak’ her mind so as to make it more acceptable for her. She wondered how many other ‘tweaks’ they had done and weren’t telling her.
They had produced identity for her, a Ukrainian passport in the name of Michelle Nadia Czakan. They had even managed to produce a perfect replica of a birth certificate, showing her born in the Ukraine on the 11th August 1980, making her just twenty-three.
She was curious to know how they managed to acquire the original passport from which to copy hers. She was told that a great many encounters with humans (of the third kind) had occurred, so they possessed a vast number of documents. Their mental powers were such that they could eradicate any trace of memory in all but a few isolated cases.
The plan was for her to give herself up to a police station in Britain, and give the story that she managed to escape from a group of men who wanted to use her as a prostitute in London.
She would use her mental powers to ‘persuade’ the Immigration authorities into allowing her to stay in Britain, grant her asylum and then citizenship.
The technician managed to acquire a complete language program, and whilst Michelle was asleep, they imprinted fluent Russian and French onto her hyper-efficient brain. When she awoke, she was immediately aware that she had the ability to converse in all languages (including English).
The Captain found itself intrigued and fascinated by the large human. They would sit and converse for long periods of time, as Michelle described some of the exciting events of her former life, both in the Air Force, and later as a police officer. The Captain was eager to find out more about this strange race.
Their whole non-intervention policy had kept contact, and indeed research of the humans, to an absolute minimum. The Captain had never before been in the position to openly converse with one in a completely open and voluntary manner.
Michelle was a colourful character, and as such was prone to guild the lily whilst spinning a yarn. A concept as complex as exaggeration and deception were as alien to the Captain as was Michelle herself. The Captain discovered the whole ship’s company stopped doing what they were doing to ‘listen in’ to Michelle’s stories.
After several days, the Captain knew that it was time to throw the fish back, and wondered whether to eradicate all memory of the ship from her memory.
<<Don’t bother. Firstly, I don’t think you could, and secondly, even if you could, I see no point. You told me yourself that no one would believe me, so how could I be of any assistance to you if I don’t know about you? If I suddenly appeared, with no memory and in suspicious circumstances, all the alarm bells would ring, and the last thing I want to do is draw undue attention onto myself,>> she said.
Once again, the woman had managed to discern the Captain’s innermost thoughts, and seemed quite unperturbed that she had possession of such awesome power.
<<It’s only awesome if I use it to instil awe. I don’t intend to be stupid enough to shine out. If I use those gifts you have kindly given me, it’ll be subtly and for the greater good. And perhaps just to give myself a social boost every now and again,>> she said with a chuckle.
PC Rob Chapman had been a traffic officer for six years. Having spent five years at Reading as a shift officer, he had transferred to traffic, and loved every minute.
He was on the M4 motorway patrol with his colleague PC Colin Mitchell in a marked Land Rover Discovery. It was six o’clock in the evening and the rush hour traffic out of London was dying away slightly.
It was November 2003 and it was raining, which had already been partially responsible for two damage only accidents on the motorway already. The main cause was people driving too fast and too close to the car in front, but no matter how hard one tried to tell them, they would never learn.
Their 4x4 was parked on a special elevated ramp set off to the nearside of the hard shoulder, so they could observe the traffic safely, yet be a visible deterrent for the speeding motorists.
“I got dragged off Christmas shopping, last rest day,” Colin moaned.
“Already, but it’s only November?” Rob said.
“Yeah, but Rachel likes to get everything done by the middle of December, less panic, she says.”
“Jenny isn’t bothered, the kids can’t make up their minds as to what they want. Apart from Simon, he wants an X-Box.”
“Everything is so bloody expensive. I’ll have to do some major overtime to pay for it this year,” stated Colin.
The radio broke up their scintillating conversation.
There was a report of a lone female walking on the Reading bound hard shoulder, a couple of miles past Maidenhead, in the forest area.
“Silly cow, she’ll get herself killed,” said Colin, as Rob drove onto the Motorway with the emergency rear red lights flashing.
They drove slowly down the hard shoulder, keeping an eye out for the woman.
“Probably some silly tart broken down and decided to walk for it,” said Rob.
But they came across no broken down vehicle.
“There!” said Colin, as Rob saw her at the same moment. A tall woman was walking away from them on the hard shoulder.
Tall?
She was in excess of six foot three.
They pulled along side the woman and Colin wound down the window.
He looked out at the girl, who stopped and looked at them. She was stunningly attractive.
She was wearing a knee length skirt, a white blouse and a dark jacket. She had high heel shoes on and was carrying a small case. She was wet, and her long blonde hair was plastered to her back.
“Get in,” he said, opening the back door.
The girl got in, pulling her hair back from her face.
“Why the hell are you walking along the motorway? It’s so dangerous, apart from being illegal,” Rob asked.
He watched the girl in the mirror, but was shocked and surprised to see how beautiful she was.
“Tank you. I has bin rooning vrom sum ver bad men,” the girl said. Her heavily accented English displayed that she was not English. Even Traffic officers picked up that one. She had an incredibly sexy voice, very husky and melodic.
Michelle smiled, but was rather shocked to find herself the same height as she had been as Mike. The Aliens had been so small, she had not even considered that they would make her in any other size than average. It never would have crossed their minds, as they were almost all the same size, it was inconceivable to them that she should have been smaller than her male counterpart.
“Where are you from?” Colin asked.
“I kum here vrom Ukraine,” she said.
Colin frowned and glanced at Rob, who rolled his eyes. They came across eastern European asylum seekers every day, but rarely looking quite as good as her.
“How did you get here?”
“I vas in a trook. Zere ver eight girls. De men say ve verk as, how you say, helps in hotels, but zen I find zey vant oos to lie viz men for sex?”
Colin looked at Rob, both men were aware that there was a case going through the courts in London about the sex traffic. Girls were being promised good jobs and when they arrived they found themselves forced into brothels and working as sex slaves for East European gangs.
“Why are you here, on the Motorway?” asked Rob.
“I roon avay. I yam not a girl who give sex for men, not unless I vant to.”
“Good for you. Where’s the truck now?”
“I don’t know, ze trook, it slow in ze traffic, und I joomp. Many kilometres I haf walked.”
“Did you know what the truck looks like?”
Michelle shook her damp head.
“Joost a green one, Hungarian, I sink.”
“Would you know the men if you saw them?”
She shook her head again.