A Simple Truth (38 page)

"Ranjit
,"
said Lincoln groggily, raising himself up on one elbow.  "What happened?"

"You fainted, it must be the heat."

Things became clearer, he remembered his former terror but the force of it had subsided.  He was once more in full control of himself, but acutely disturbed by his experience.

"No
,"
he said with conviction, "it wasn't the heat."

"Will you go to the ship
?"
asked Khan.

"I have to
,"
answered Lincoln solemnly.  "I have to go."

"Welcome back
,"
said
Jack Arnold laughing, "
You
can't get away that easily."  But Lincoln was in no mood for laughter.

"Tell them I'll go tomorrow morning, and fix up some transport for me please."

"What about us, we'd all like to see Pleiades too
,"
complained Arnold.

"No, I shall go alone."  And with that Lincoln left the room and the building.

It was uncomfortably hot outside.  The air was still and there was little shade to lessen the sun's powerful rays.  The heat did not worry him.  He was filled with deep feelings of affection for all his surroundings, for his friends and acquaintances, even for the oppressive weather.  He was about to enter one of the city cars as he usually did but thought better of it.  'No, I'll walk
,
' he said to himself.  It was a way of prolonging the present, of putting off the inevitable future.  It was a
t least
ten kilometres to his home, but Lincoln savoured every step of the way.

His route was not very inspiring.  Once outside the pleasant WSA surroundings the road ran straight for about four kilometres before it entered the suburbs.  There he became aware of things that he normally ignored completely; the strong healthy look of the well tended trees, the gentle rippling of the shiny leaves, the laughter and excited chatter of children playing at a nearby school.  He studied the gardens and the people, discovering a new and keen interest in everything.

He remembered feeling the same way after graduating.  He had worked long and hard to earn his degree, and once the work was over and his prize won he spent a whole day just wandering aimlessly around, savouring the sense of achievement tinged with nostalgia.  The association of his surroundings had always been with work and study, but only when his work was over could he see the place objectively, and with a deep affection.

He stopped to talk to an elderly couple who were lovingly tending their garden and was pleased that they did
n
o
t recognise him.  It was pleasant and unusual not having a deadline to meet, being a
ble to indulge in innocent chit
chat with people who appreciated someone to talk to.  If only he had found time for this sort of thing before.

But what was he thinking of?  Surely there would be other days to enjoy these things?  Lincoln argued with himself but deep down he knew things would change.  Just what the change was to be he could not imagine, but he knew
that
it would be
complete
.

Emma saw him long before he noticed her and she waited for him at a corner.  Her stare somehow penetrated his daydream and he suddenly became aware of her presence.

"Hi
,"
he called, "thought I'd leave early for once."

She was delighted and showed it.

"I was on my way over to the store, come with me.  I felt like a walk too."

They walked along together in silence for a while.  Then at length he said
,
"I'm going to visit the alien vessel tomorrow, I've had a special invitation."

He said it as casually as he could, but his wife sensed the tension behind his words.  She looked directly at him, questioning.  She didn't speak, her expression spoke for her.  He knew he could not hide anything from her, even an irrational foreboding.

"It's only for a friendly visit
,"
he explained, "but I have a strong feeling that somehow it's the culmination of a planned sequence of events.  I can't explain it, and it's purely a feeling, yet I'm certain that my visit will have far
-
reaching effects, but what I don't know."  He looked at her to see what she made of it.

"
Be careful
,"
was all she said, but her simple re
mark carried a wealth of feeling
.

It
had been a long time
since Lincoln had been inside a food store.   People looked and then looked again.  They could be seen nudging one another and pointing
,
not very discreetly.  He was a celebrity now, and like it or not he was set apart from the general public.  It gave him an uncomfortable and vulnerable feeling.  Being known to complete strangers robbed him of his preferred anonymity.  All very well for actors and politicians he thought, they sought the limelight, but not he.  It was part of the price he had to pay for a controlling hand in the alien encounter, and that he would not have missed for the world.  Emma seemed to enjoy the situation.  She lapped up the reflected glory of being seen with him, and he was sure she prolonged the visit deliberately.

They walked over to the local school in time to meet the boys.  They were among the last out as usual.  William came out with a group of boys engrossed in a deep
discussion but when he saw his m
um and
d
ad he abandoned his mates and ran over to them.

"Hi Dad, What's the occasion?"

"Hi, can't a man meet his sons out of school once in a while?"  He ruffled William's hair playfully.  David was on his way out with another boy, his coat slung over one shoulder and
his
socks round his ankles.

"Look at the state of him
,"
remarked his mother
,
"
c
ome on David
,"
she shouted.

He kept stopping to look at something belonging to his friend, then he heard the shout and looked up.  A broad beaming smile lit up his
face as he caught sight of his d
ad.  A brief word to
h
is pal, then he raced over in a sprint that would have done credit to an Olympic champion.  Lincoln was very touched.  Was it really such an event his being there to meet them?  He knew that it was.  For months now the children had been in bed by the time he arrived home, and if he managed to snatch half a day off in a week he counted himself fortunate.

"Let's eat out then go to the theatre
,"
he suggested.  It was an occasion and deserved to be celebrated properly.  William threw his case up in the air and David jumped up and down shouting
,
"Good old Dad, yes come on, let's go."

"Well let's change first
,"
said Emma horrified.  "We can't go like this, the children need to wash and change and so do I."

"Life's too short for washing and changing
,"
argued Lincoln, "let's throw convention to the wind and live a little."

The boys could not have agreed more and leapt about like demented demons, but Emma was having none of it.  If she was going to enjoy the evening it would have to be done properly, so half an hour later the boys were washing and changing, much to their acute disgust.

"We should have done this more often, much more often
,"
said Lincoln wistfully as they rode home.  Emma snuggled close to him.  "It's been perfect
,"
she said, "a perfect evening, and we can do it again anytime, lots more times."

"Yes of course we can
,"
agreed Lincoln, yet he knew that the
relentless
approach of whatever was to come would change everything, and carefree family evenings out would be a thing of the past.

Lincoln took his sons straight to their rooms when they got home and began to help them into their night clothes.  They had slept on the way home and were still more than half asleep now.  Emma went to the kitchen to prepare a hot drink then came in to tuck them up in bed.

"I'm going to drink this in bed
,"
she said, stifling a yawn.

"Give me five minutes to get some things ready for tomorrow then I'll join you
,"
said Lincoln.

He walked into the lounge sleepily, a soft light automatically flooding the room as he entered.  Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks.  In an armchair, unmoving, and dressed in an inconspicuous dark suit sat a familiar figure.  He smiled at Lincoln's astonishment, and rose to shake his hand.

"It's been a long time
Arthur;
it's good to see you again."

Lincoln's mouth gaped open stupidly.  Was he seeing things?

"George
,"
he spluttered, "George Dent."

"Sit down Arthur
,"
advised Dent, steering him towards a chair
,
"
a
nd please forgive this intrusion."

"George, how on earth did you get here?  Where have you been?  When...
?
"

Dent raised a hand.  "You will know all that very soon, first there is some important preparatory information that you must be given."

"Preparation for what?"

"For tomorrow, f
or your visit to the alien ship."

Lincoln was dumbfounded.  "That information wasn't released.  How could you possibly know about it?"

"No more questions Arthur.  As I said, you will understand all very soon.  Now listen to what I have to say and please trust me."

"OK George, I'm listening."

"You are already aware that tomorrow's meeting is not just the casual visit that it appears to be.  It represents the most critical encounter between humanity and the aliens.  If it goes well then the benefit will be inestimable."

"And if it goes badly
?"
countered Lincoln.

"That I don't know
, p
erhaps nothing at all, perhaps something very serious indeed."

Lincoln struggled to grasp what Dent was saying.  It made little sense.  There was no hard evidence for his prediction but Lincoln knew with a sickening certaint
y that it was the truth.  Yet it
was comforting having Dent speak openly about it, his old and trusted friend could not have come at a better time.

"I believe you.  I know that the meeting is more than it seems.  Ever since I read the invitation I have had a feeling, no, a conviction
,
that somehow it's the climax of a planned strategy.  But how can you possibly know about
all this
?"

"I know a lot more than you think Arthur.  But try not to feel too involved
tomorrow;
the outcome only indirectly depends on you.  Success is not your
responsibility;
you only have to be there.  Just be your normal self, and when the time comes don't put up any resistance.  Let your mind go blank and things will take care of themselves."

"What time?  And resist what
?"
asked Lincoln.  "If I'm to assist in some transformation at least let me know what it is."

"I can't say more Arthur, I'm sorry.  Just trust me, do as I ask and you will understand all in the end.  And don't
worry;
you will know when
the time comes.  One more thing, d
on't under any circumstances allow the tribespeople to come to earth.  Now I must let you get some sleep."

Dent rose and offered his hand once more to Lincoln.  When Lincoln took it Dent clasped his hand warmly in both of his own, as he had done once before.

Dent looked directly into Lincoln's eyes, and said slowly and solemnly.
 
"All my strength,
all
my courage, and
all
my friendship are yours.  I'll be with you wherever you are and whenever you need me."  Then he went out of the door and away.

Lincoln, still dazed, stood alone for a few seconds.  Then he rushed after him, there was a lot more to be said yet.

Outside the night was clear and the stars shone brightly.  The road was illuminated and ran straight in both directions for at least a hundred metres.

"George
,"
he shouted, ready to run after his friend, but there was no sign of him.  He had been gone only a few seconds, yet he had vanished as if into thin air.  Lincoln ran a little way in the most likely direction and called once more, but there was no reply, and no hint that Dent had ever been there.  In the distance a dog barked, and the muted hum of city activity was the only other sound.

Lincoln walked back slowly, puzzling, trying to fathom the deepening mystery in which he was to play so critical a part.  Of one thing he was sure though, and that was that Dent's visit had given him renewed confidence and strength.  He was no longer alone.  Dent understood what was happening and he was a man to be trusted.  If he could not say more then there must be a very good reason.