The Visitor (14 page)

He is behind, or a part of, a company that is presently retrofitting older and desert-worn Saudi Humvees with armor and a French 20 mm gun on a turret with a very expensive targeting system that shoots on the fly at full speed. The retrofit involves an interesting program of having the Humvees come to a Saudi hanger. There, a company that he is behind, completely strips the Humvee, and then all parts that wear out are replaced, such as the motors, drive train, half shafts, etc. A new US diesel from Cummins in Columbus, Indiana, or one from Volvo in Europe is installed along with all new parts that wear out. All the electrics are replaced. The result is sending out a sort of zero-time Humvee, guaranteed to give as much life as a new one, but for half the price, and it is supposed to be better than new. However, when in the hanger, they added the armor on the floor, the sides, and weak point, along with special windows, to reduce the killing effects of bullets and Improvised Explosive Device (IED) bombs of the Taliban. He also adds a 20 mm turret on a number of them. All of this is very expensive.

He is known to be very rich and travels and lives in very high style. Could he be behind the flight over the US? If any individual would be capable of creating such a craft, it might be him. But why? What motive? What could he possibly gain from making such a daring, public statement, especially when his business and wealth come from keeping a low profile?

As far as we know, all of his business is on the side of the West and Western allies. Has he gone crazy? There has been no ransom or other signs of him, or anyone for that matter, wanting something. And the ability to create a craft capable of going seventeen-thousand miles an hour in the atmosphere is beyond the capability of any country or, as far as we know, anyone. There now are some private flights into the edge of space, planned by an outfit called Virgin Air, but there is no reason for those people to take off without a flight plan, and they cannot go that fast in the atmosphere.

We have not got much to go on. I am in touch with the CIA and will try to see if this baron is up to something. I am asking the CIA to assist. I am sending a contact number. I want you to tell the CIA that I want to see if their people can get us a DNA sample of that woman.

(End message from Director Hauser)

CHAPTER 11

The following morning, Baron and his alien lover sat in the picturesque hotel restaurant to have breakfast. As they sat, sipping strong coffee, they smiled at each other, with little talk at first.

He prepared her a freshly baked roll, spread with butter and locally made blueberry preserves, a delicious way to start any day with a new lover, even if she was from outer space.

“The different foods have certainly been one of my greatest experiences here,” Tak said. “Is the German food different from Polish?”

“Well, there are subtle differences, even if you are from a different planet. In Poland you had Polish sausage, and here you can try something similar, but it’s still a sausage. The countries are close together, at least on a map of Earth, so I suppose the foods will seem much the same.”

He made his order to the pretty young waitress, who was the same girl working at the desk the day before. “
Bitte
...” Then he realized he must speak in English so that Tak could experience the moment. “Make us each two Bavarian Weisswursts, boiled in water, with a sprig of Italian parsley, or your equivalent, to remove any odor. Serve with Bavarian mustard.” As she left, he decided to broach a subject with Tak. “Last night was the most amazing sex I’ve ever had. You have something extraordinary in your
Alien Style
.”

She turned to him with a sobering observation. “Human evolution has unfortunately left you with sexual components whose operations do not fully satisfy human desires, which seem to occupy a great deal of your thoughts, during waking hours. This is why, I now believe that I may have confirmed the reason that humans engage in what you call oral sex. It seems to me, as an anthropologist, that oral sex is a perversion of what parts of your bodies were intended to be utilized for reproduction. You will have noticed that last night, with my race, that it should not be necessary to pervert the use of our bodies to use oral stimulation for gratification and the organs that we have are sufficient.”

All Baron could muster was, “But then why did you try it?”

“Well, I am a field anthropologist,” she said sheepishly.

“Will it further your study if we have alien sex again?” he asked.

She smiled. “It may take additional practice. What have you in mind for today, or would you like to spend the day in the room practicing intergalactic sex?”

“The answer is simple. We will go back to the room for more practice and then out to the village where we can look about, window shop, and enjoy the scenery. Oh, I want to tell you something. In order to show you places other than these European nations that are part of what is called the European Union, it is necessary for me to get you a passport. I can take you to Berlin if you wish, where I have an office and influence, and I can get you one there. However, I must have your solemn promise that you will not report to any Earth authorities how I got you the papers.”

“As I trust you not to reveal my existence, I’ll reciprocate and do whatever you ask. Are there any other perversions of sexual reproduction that you wish me to experience?”

He grinned then nodded.

“Is there a name for my anatomical differences,” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Area 51.”

***

Later, window shopping and absorbing the ambiance of the quaint village, they came upon a small watch shop. They turned in as Tak was infatuated with the mechanical devices.

She asked to see a skeleton pocket watch with both sides of the watch in glass, showing the many gears turning about.

“This is amazing! This sort of thing has not made for many ages. Where I come from, time is not measured by gears and springs. This is an art of the far distant past. Imagine how much time it must take to make such a device!”

“You could fix this to your waistband with a chain and put the watch in your pocket,” Baron said.

Tak, mesmerized by the device, continued to look at the gears going round and round.

“Is the case on this piece solid gold?” Baron asked the shopkeeper.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Solid twenty-two karat. It’s from Switzerland.”

“Have you a gold watch chain?” Baron asked.

“Of course.” The clerk produced a thin, black-velvet-lined drawer with many chains, in silver and gold, and laid the drawer on the glass.

Baron looked at his alien. “Which of these do you like?”

“This one.” She held it up as though it was a treasure.

The shopkeeper attached it to the timepiece.

“How much for both?” Baron asked.

“Well, you know, the price of gold has skyrocketed.”

Engaging in the fun of bargaining, although it mattered not, other than the fun of it, Baron said, “You bandit! You did not pay those prior prices for these pieces. We can always come back next year if we decide to come back again, when the price goes down, when you still have this unsellable relic.”

There being no other business that day, or almost all week and, with a poor European economy and few customers, the shopkeeper quickly came to a reasonable price for the two pieces.

Baron was content with the bargain. Tak, mesmerized with what she considered a priceless antique, accepted his magnanimous present.

“A small present for my favorite alien,” he said when they were out of the shop.

Tak flushed at the wonderful present from her new lover. She gave him a hug “Thank you, Baron! This will always be very special to me.” She attached the watch chain to her waist band and let the watch drop into her pocket. She took it out a few times to admire it.

***

In Berlin, Baron showed her into his office, a two-room suite, with only a single secretary. She was attractive, tall, blonde, and forty, with amazing efficiency. Her name was Ingrid.

Tak was sitting in front of Baron’s desk, behind which was a large window of the city, when Ingrid came in with papers in hand. She handed them to Baron for approval. He looked at them and seemed pleased.

Baron looked at Tak. “I have something for you.”

He handed her the documents, a certificate of birth, marriage certificate, and a passport. All were obtained by Baron’s influence, and all were recorded in official records in case anyone checked. All were fraudulent, but very official. Tak looked at them strangely, not having any idea what to expect. She read the passport with her picture. It read,
Baroness Von Limbach.
“It’s me! I’m a baroness!”

At a sidewalk café near the Berlin office, they sat outside for a light lunch and to watch the people go by.

“Tak, I have a decision to make, or perhaps I should say you have one to make. I absolutely insist on being your guide on Earth for the duration of your stay. I will take you wherever you want to go, or if you do not know, I will take you where I think you would like to go. But I know you are not here to see the tourist spots of mountains and canyons, but people.

“Now, if you like, I can allow you to join me in my business, which I think you will find informative and interesting. However, I must have your absolute assurance that you will keep all details of what you learn a secret from everyone on the planet.

“The choice is yours. Would you like to accompany me on some business and learn a bit about how the Earth business works, or would you prefer to simply learn more about humans that are not engaged in any such activities? Either is fine with me.”

“I’m quite sure I should go should with you on your business,” she answered. “And I will keep what I learn a secret.”

“Very well, that is settled.”

As they sat at the café, they saw many high-fashion women out shopping, walking right by the table.

“I don’t understand something. Earth females want to be treated as equals to males, right?” Tak asked.

“That is so.”

“Then why is it that the females paint their faces and nails but men do not?”

“Good question.”

“Is it that the females would be less attractive to the males if they did not use paint?” she continued.

“That is so.”

“Would I be more attractive to you and others if I painted my face?”

He looked around at a huge department store just nearby. “Why don’t we go into that store to a makeup counter and find out?’

“I would like to try that.”

“You alien females are all the same, always worried about your looks.”

***

Ralls and Klara headed in the direction of Germany, where a few witnesses had seen the Rolls Royce going. After a time, they saw a group of men wearing reflective green vests, the road hazard kind. The nearest had a stop sign in hand. The traffic was reduced to one lane traffic. By a hand signal to another man fifty yards down the road, the traffic was be allowed to pass from one direction, then the other direction was allowed to pass. There was enough room on one side of the road for a lane of cars to pass, but not enough for two lanes, especially with all the pieces of equipment involved, occasionally coming into both lanes. There were no cars in front of them when he arrived, but a few were building up in a queue behind his car as he sat there.

Frustrated by the delay, Ralls sighed and tried to relax, looking about. He tried to see what the cause of delay was. There were two, huge dump trucks filled with dirt, with one dumping its load into a huge hole in the ground. The other truck was waiting its turn to dump its load.

Ralls realized that this was most unusual. He pulled over his car to the shoulder of the road and got out with Klara. The man with the stop sign did not seem to mind, as Ralls was not holding up traffic.

Ralls walked up to the hole in the ground. It was ten feet deep and being filled with dirt as they watched.

Klara asked the crew superintendent what had happened. She then turned to Ralls. “He does not know what happened. Some driver reported this huge hole in the road, and this crew is filling it up. He said that the dirt from the hole is missing. It is not stacked up anywhere, nor is there any debris. So they are having to truck in loads of dirt for the fill.”

“What on earth could have caused it?” Ralls asked, as though she might know.

“I’ve no idea,” Klara said. “If these highway repairmen do not know, I certainly do not. But where the dirt might have gone is the real mystery.”

“I wonder if this huge hole is related to our mystery woman and her fast vehicle,” Ralls said to Klara. “A large hole in the road and many yards of missing dirt. A seventeen-thousand-mile-per-hour female. Are they connected?”

Klara answered with a question. “Why would a female pilot that can go seventeen thousand miles an hour want to make a huge hole in the highway?”

“Where’s the dirt from the hole?” Ralls said. “Both events are very strange. I am going to find that woman. I think she may have some answers.”