Alien Embassy

GARRY KILWORTH

Evelyn hardly noticed the other passengers on the flight to the island. She was still desperately upset and wrapped in her own hurt. It was more like grief after a death than the pain at the end of an affair. It was unbearable. Images flooded her mind, washed out all awareness of the world around her. Vivid pictures of her and Tony sharing sweet moments, walking, laughing, talking together. Making love. Lying in each other’s arms afterwards, warm, secure, enfolded in a soft but impenetrable cocoon by his use of the word ‘forever’. Forever. A word which now carried painful parasites clinging to it. Agony. Oh, how . . . Evelyn checked a sob, suddenly conscious of the woman sitting next to her. She stared out of the window at the bumpy cloud plain, wishing she could jump.

On landing she collected herself together a little. Rallied enough to be interested in her surroundings. Well, not so much the scenery as those who inhabited it. She was now in that place the rest of the world called the Alien Embassy. The tropical island given to the aliens thirty years ago. They had come, in peace, had negotiated, had given their word. No one had trusted them of course. The human race had watched them like hawks. Once or twice there had been minor alarms, which had been generated by misunderstandings, nothing really. The world leader at the time of the visitation - the benign but clever and firm Alicia Sergovia - had not been foolish enough to allow them an embassy building in the middle of one of Earth’s major cities. Oh no. An island, with natural walls to keep them contained. That had seemed to her to be the answer. Any talks were held at the embassy itself, the newcomers forbidden to travel in-world.

Inevitably, the people of Earth got used to having them on the planet. After ten years the embassy held an ‘open day’ when visitors were allowed on the island, were shown round. The aliens had done some marvellous things. Constructed some beautiful buildings in their own strange but alluring styles, all curves and points, reminiscent of but certainly not derivative of eastern architecture. They had an easy, friendly nature, it seemed, which robbed everyone of their guard. The open days became annual, extended. Became, eventually, more like open weeks. Now the place was offering free holidays, on a random basis, in order to foster good relations between Earth people and the Visitors. Evelyn was one of the first to take advantage of that change of status.

Evelyn had received the free ticket through the post. The accompanying letter said her name and address code had been entered into a computer and she had been one of the few successful ones. It came at a time when she felt like suicide rather than sunning herself on tropical sands. But what had finally attracted her, made her take up the offer, was the promise of solitude. Many of our beach houses are situated in remote areas, it read, those couples or single people wishing to be alone in order to have time to meditate or contemplate, should indicate that fact should they take up the offer of this fabulous free holiday.

Tony, when he heard about it, had been against it, had called her a fool. To go amongst the aliens? That was asking for trouble. So they’d been here a few years. Still no one really knew them. Free tickets? Yeah, he had snorted, free tickets to abduction, or worse. All right, she wasn’t his girlfriend any more, but he felt honour bound to give her sensible advice. He might not care for her, but he still cared what happened to her.

The trouble is, Evelyn thought as she studied the immigration officer checking her credentials, they look too much like us.

She had seen holograms of them of course, many times. But this was the first time she had met a real alien. This one smiled at her, waved her past without another word: gestures which actually startled her. They seemed too normal, too human-like. Not that this creature was attractive in any way. Very smooth skinned. Plastic looking. She walked through, seeing more of them, finding it disconcerting that they differed from each other as much as did humans. A drink was offered, floral, fruity, and then she was taken to waiting transport, which would carry her to her beach house. The helio carried her over the treetops, high above the forest canopy, and deposited her in a sandy bay several miles from the Visitors’ Centre.

Standing on the verandah of the admittedly wonderful beach house she began to feel uneasy. There was a light tropical breeze blowing along the golden curve of the bay. The fronds of palms and other foliage, standing back from the coral lagoon, gently waved to her. The lagoon itself was a washy green which melted into deep blue at the reef. Beautiful. But. But she felt so isolated. There were no other beach houses in sight. The bay swept out on either side of her holiday home, the ocean strand empty of any other signs of life. Perhaps Tony had been right when he had said, ‘Look, Evelyn, this is stupid. You don’t know anything about these creeps. They could …’ and he had listed, graphically, all the nasty things that could happen to her while she was ‘in their power’.

She had responded with spirit, reminding Tony that his advice was no longer required by her, that he had no say in her life whatsoever. She would do what she wanted and he could go to hell. In fact, she had been quite proud of herself, the way she had put him in his place. Yet now she was regretting her rashness, just a little. A loneliness, a hopeless loneliness washed through and she allowed herself to cry for a while. Then, as ever, she rallied, wiped away the tears, went inside the beach house, explored, found all sorts of wonderful gadgets at her disposal, all manner of food and drink. Lavish interior. A soft bed. Comfortable furniture. Everything she could want.

Everything - except Tony and the baby he had promised they would make.

She had wanted that baby so fiercely. Had craved it with such vehemence - but had failed to conceive. They had secretly blamed each other, she and Tony. She had wanted them both to be checked out. Tony had refused of course. Anything that threatened his manhood, she thought with a flash of hatred, was totally rejected by him. Finally it drove a wedge between them and he had left, even though she had lied and told him the baby did not matter. He knew she was lying. He knew her well enough for that.

She made herself a strong cocktail and went back out on the verandah to watch a bright orange sun dip down into a turquoise sea.

‘Would you like me to refresh that for you?’

Evelyn jumped, her heart racing.

‘I’m sorry, I startled you. That was unforgivable. Didn’t they tell you I would be here?’

A shortish man - no, an alien - had appeared beside her with a tray. Where had he come from? Out of the back of the house?

‘What do you want?’ she asked, coldly, now furious. ‘Sneaking up …’

‘No, no.’ He looked distressed. ‘I didn’t intend. Look, I’m your host while you stay on our island.’ He gave her one of those disarming smiles. ‘I’m here to see to your needs. I come with the accommodation, like …’ he looked around. ‘Like that swing-seat over there. I’m part of the furniture.’

‘Well, I don’t want anyone here.’ She glanced along the darkening empty beach, wondering if she should add something to that sentence, and finally letting it stand.

‘That would be your choice, of course,’ replied the alien with regret in his tone. ‘We don’t like to impose. Only, I could make your stay so much more comfortable.’ He stared at her with dark liquid eyes for a moment before adding, ‘I’m quite harmless, you know. Would you like to contact Reception, check on me? They can verify, dispel any doubts you might have as to my - authenticity.’

‘I’m sorry. It - it doesn’t feel right. I’m sure you’re perfectly authentic - I mean, I expect you’re meant to be here. But I don’t want looking after. I just want to be alone to - to think a little.’

‘Of course,’ he murmured.

Evelyn bristled at something in his tone.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, you’re obviously upset. I can sense it. We - we aliens,’ he said the word with a tinge of mirth, as if he were laughing at himself a little, ‘are quite sensitive to the feelings of other creatures. Especially creatures so like ourselves.’

‘I find that intimidating. How dare you assume.’ She knew this sounded ridiculous. Haughty. ‘My feelings,’ she tried to explain, ‘are my own business - nothing to do with - with the staff of a holiday complex.’ That was reasonable, wasn’t it?

But he looked downcast, stared at the floor. ‘Of course.’

Evelyn was suddenly aware that she was speaking to someone not of her culture - at all. She regretted her remark. ‘I - I hope you understand that.’

‘We try to understand. It’s not easy. We’re from different worlds, aren’t we? You don’t really know us, nor we you. It’s difficult. I shall leave first thing in the morning. I’m sorry I can’t leave tonight. They won’t send out transport in the dark. We try to keep the island in a natural state and the sound of an engine will disturb the nightlife. First thing though.’

Was that right? It didn’t seem to be. What about the daylife. Wouldn’t the noise disturb that too? But she was now weary. Jetlagged as her mother used to say. The strong drink was having its effect. There was no real fight left in her. She gestured towards the living-room.

‘Where are you sleeping?’

‘I don’t. That is, I stay in that hut over there, on the edge of the rainforest. Heavens,’ he said, looking up at the stars, ‘listen to the crickets. Don’t they make a racket? I’ve got used to them but when I first came here they were quite disturbing. Yes, yes, I can see you’re tired. I shall go.’

He left. Evelyn went to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. She allowed herself to wallow in nostalgic despair. Soon she was so maudlin she did not care if the alien came hurtling through the door with a weapon in his hand and tore her from stomach to throat. Not caring about anything really except this overwhelming sense of being without Tony. She clenched her fists. Bastard. Bastard. She unclenched them. Oh how she wished he were with her. Why did he - how could he? Oh, God, it hurt so much.

She sobbed herself to sleep, fully clothed still.

When Evelyn woke the next morning she was aware she smelled of stale sweat. She undressed, put on a robe and went down to the sea to bathe in the warm waters of the lagoon. Later she returned to the beach house and showered, listening for the sound of the transport. At 10 o’clock she had still heard nothing and wondered if it had come

and gone while she was still in a deep sleep. However, ten minutes

later there was a rap on the door and he came in with a tray of fruit

and a drink.

‘I thought you might like this before I go.’ He grinned. A real human grin. ‘My last service. They won’t be able to send anything until midday. They’re rather busy this morning, I’m afraid. We hadn’t anticipated this. A great many of the guests are requesting us to leave them alone.’ The last word was apologetic. ‘I guess we really screwed up.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Shall I draw the bamboo blinds?’

‘If you like.’

He did so and then remained at the window, looking out to sea.

‘A ship,’ he said. ‘Out there on the horizon. Almost hull down. It’s an endless source of fascination to me. We don’t have seas where I come from. Underwater lakes, but nothing on the surface. All that open watery space. Scared me at first. But then the ships passed in the night, encrusted with lights, like jewelled floating houses. Wonderful things, aren’t they? I hope one day to be able to go on one, see for myself…’

She was able to study him in the morning light. He was smaller than her. About shoulder height, but leaner and harder-looking. Evelyn was inclined to, well, just a bit more weight than she desired. He was better looking than that official at the airport.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘about your having to go.’

‘Oh, that’s all right.’ He turned to look at her and shrugged - another very human gesture. ‘They’ll find something for me to do, I’m sure. I shan’t get the sack, you know.’ He laughed.

They talked on, finding quite a lot to say to each other. Evelyn explored. He did the same, each of them finding out more and more about a race which was relatively new to them both. At one o’clock the transport had still not come. A glint of suspicion flashed in Evelyn’s mind, but she figured that if she was going to be raped or murdered, it would have happened by now, when she had been lying drunk on the bed.

‘I’m going for a walk along the beach,’ she said, suddenly feeling impulsive. ‘Will you come with me?’

‘What, walk with you?’

She tried not to sound wild. ‘Yes. Call Reception. Tell them not to come just yet, if you want to. I’m going to change into my sarong.’ She left the room quickly, her heart beating fast, before she could alter her own mind.

They walked and talked. He was extremely knowledgeable about the fauna and flora, about everything to do with the island really. He -she found his name was Xavier (or close enough) - had obviously been well trained in entertaining his guests. Without being didactic, he was interesting, letting her name things, explain what she knew about her own world. By the time they returned to the beach house, where he cooked her a delicious vegetable curry, Evelyn was beginning to enjoy herself. Just a spark of enjoyment, nothing more. Nothing like joy in the true sense of the word. But for a few moments, here and there, she could suppress the hurt. There had been one huge pang, a few seconds of absolute agony, when she had looked back along the sand and had seen two sets of footprints, meandering together. The trouble was the larger set did not belong to Tony. They belonged to an alien.

The day drew to a close. Again, she was a little drunk and when he excused himself, going to his small hut, she fell asleep in the chair, waking in the early dawn and crawling between the bedsheets. He woke her with coffee and toast, a lightly boiled egg, and one of those smiles.

That day was nicer, even, than the previous one. The scents of a tropical paradise were heady, intoxicating. Fragrant flowers, salt-scented air, the smell of fermenting fruit. By the time evening came she had definitely made up her mind. Here was an exotic man - yes, a man (they had bathed nude in one of the warm rockpools) - and she was attracted to him. There was a vicious side to it as well. Evelyn was relishing the thought of telling Tony, afterwards. I have an alien lover. He was better than you. A thousand times better. I hope that sticks in your craw. It was going to be sweet. Tony would be incensed, blazing mad, and she was going to laugh in his face. It helped. It helped to ease the pain. She had a few drinks, then spoke the words: ‘Would you like to stay here with me tonight?’

‘Not tonight.’

She felt as if her face had been slapped. It must have shown, for he said, ‘It’s not what you think - it’s not that you are undesirable. I wish to - to be with you. But we must be sure, I think. I would rather you were in a better frame of mind.’ His dark eyes explored hers, tried, successfully, to create a sense of understanding between two creatures from different worlds.

‘You want me sober,’ she said, bluntly.

‘I wouldn’t have put it so crudely, but yes. I would like you to be fully cognizant - that is, to be aware of yourself, what you are doing -and be able to appreciate what we are doing. That alcohol you humans love so much dulls the mind and the body. You know it does.’

Candidly. ‘Yes, but it helps with confidence.’

He smiled gently. ‘You don’t need that kind of support, Evelyn. You are a beautiful woman. Warm, interesting, very, very attractive. Please, ask me again, tomorrow. I tell you, I can hardly wait. Really. I feel, so privileged.’

‘Privileged?’ she snorted out a laugh, then suppressed it when he looked offended. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not the word we would use under the circumstances. I think I know what you mean, though.’

It was three more days, and three more nights, before they actually made love. They returned from a long walk along the beach, picking up pretty seashells. Evelyn had put the seashells in a bowl on the verandah. When she returned to the living-room Xavier took her hand and led her to the bedroom. There they spent their passion.

It was not as good as Evelyn had expected it to be, but then as she lay beside him in the darkness she chastised herself for being disappointed. After all, she had been with Tony for three years. She was used to Tony. It was different being with another man - not even another man - an extraterrestrial. It would probably be some time before things happened in a way that brought utter fulfilment. After all there was no love between them, yet. It was a purely physical thing. Love made a difference, it had to. It would be better once the affair developed, blossomed in the way that hers and Tony’s had. These things took time and patience.

She felt Xavier move in the near darkness, saw the outline of him sitting up, against the starlight coming from the window.

‘I have to …’ Xavier didn’t complete the sentence. And his voice sounded peculiar. Croaky.

‘Are you going to the bathroom?’ she asked, as his shape moved in that direction.

This time he said nothing in reply. She heard the door to the bathroom being opened. Then there was the most terrible crash. She jumped up, alarmed, and switched the light on. She could see his bare legs, from the knees downwards, twitching. He seemed to be lying on the floor, half in the bathroom and half out. The feet flopped around. It seemed that Xavier was having some kind of fit.

‘What’s the matter?’ she cried, rushing to him. She pushed back the bathroom door and tried to lift his pale form from the floor, but he was heavy. ‘What’s wrong?’

He turned his head, his complexion a ghastly colour now.

‘I’m dying,’ he croaked.

His words shocked here. She let him go, unable to hold him up any longer. He flopped onto the floor, his whole body jerking spasmodically.

‘What can I do?’ she asked, trying to calm herself with deep breaths. ‘Tell me what to do.’

‘You-you can do nothing. This is the way it is.’ He reached out with his hand, found hers. His touch was cold and clammy. ‘This is the way it is with us, every time. This happens. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Natural. It’s natural. I’m glad it - was - you.’ His voice faded towards the end of this last sentence, his eyes glazed over, his mouth went slack. He fell back with a last gasp onto the wooden floor, obviously dead.

Evelyn surprised herself. She didn’t panic. Walking calmly from room to room, she sought some means of contacting Reception. Increasingly, as she ran out of rooms, she became frustrated. Then she remembered the hut where he had slept the first few nights. It had to be in there. Xavier had, once or twice, talked about speaking to the resort’s centre.

But there was nothing in the hut, either. Now she became angry. What was she supposed to do? Surely there was some means of communication with the outside world? With Xavier here, to cater for her needs, she hadn’t found it necessary to call anyone. Her personal phone was at home, left behind at the request of the resort. They had told her its use would interfere with the island’s telecommunications.

She had no idea how far it was to the nearest beach house, or any other habitation. The bay was locked in by two great rocky headland horns. There was no going round them except by sea and Evelyn was not a strong swimmer. If she was going to fetch someone, it would have to be through the rainforest.

‘I’ll do it in the morning,’ she told herself, rather doubtfully.

That night she slept in Xavier’s hut. Actually, she didn’t sleep very much at all. Most of the night she lay awake, fearful of what was happening to her. The morning light brought a little relief and some peace of mind. Things always look better in the sunlight. Yet when she stared at the rainforest, it looked extremely dense, formidable. It would be very easy to get lost in there. Very easy. She had not panicked before now, but she felt the fear bubbling up within her.

‘I have to go,’ she told herself. ‘I can’t stay in a house with … with that there.’

She forced herself through the front door again, into the kitchen, not looking into the open bedroom doorway as she passed, in case he was visible from there. One by one she opened the cupboards. Incredibly, they were empty. The cupboards had been full of food. Where had it all gone? Searching frantically through the rest of the house, she even forced herself to go into the bathroom again, in case Xavier had for some reason taken all the provisions in there. Nothing. Not a crumb. Angry now, she used her foot to lever Xavier’s legs out of the way of the door and then closed it on him. Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully. One thing struck her, penetrated her foggy mind as she shut him inside: it seemed his corpse was undergoing a weird sort of chemical change. His legs had been very light and easy to move.

But she was in no frame of mind to inspect dead bodies.

She sat on the beach staring out to sea, trying to make sense of it all. Someone must have robbed her of her stores. Why would they take all her food? Why hadn’t they made their presence known? It was bewildering. Now she could not leave, even if she raised enough courage. How could she even attempt a walk through the forest without provisions? Even a short flight in a helio was a very long walk. The foliage was dense in that airless, lightless interior. She would be lucky to make a mile a day. And how would she navigate? Evelyn could picture herself walking round in circles, dying by degrees. And now she recalled that ridge of sharp volcanic mountains in the middle of the island. Could she attempt what seemed impossible?

It was at this point she remembered, also, that there were deadly snakes in the rainforest. Cobras. Kraits. Giant reticulated pythons, who might or might not be dangerous. While she did not have a phobia about snakes, she naturally feared an encounter. Wild boar. She had been warned about the wild boars by Xavier. Sunbears, too, which could be vicious. And spiders. Large hairy-legged spiders. She shuddered, having already seen one arachnid as big as her hand the previous day.

Where would she sleep? On the bare ground? The trees were immense things, with massive buttress roots, tall as cathedrals and lacking in lower branches. She could not envisage herself climbing a tree. It was hopeless. Evelyn realized she was trapped, until they came for her.

It was still several days to the end of her holiday.

That night she slept on the beach and was badly bitten by sandflies. The next morning she went in search of food, finding only small shellfish. There were no coconuts. She had expected to discover some, but the palms seemed bare of them. She cooked the shellfish, but they were not enough to take away an unnatural hunger which was gradually possessing her.

After three days the craving in her belly blotted out all sense and reason. Evelyn tried eating roots and leaves, but they only cause her to vomit. Finally, she went back into the house and began rummaging through it again in search of anything edible. Anything at all. She ate a jar of cold cream which had accidentally rolled under a sideboard earlier in the holiday. There was nothing else. It failed to satisfy, of course, and the frenetic search continued.

When she entered the bedroom, the smell hit her. Not rotting corpse. Nor anything like it. A sweet, enticing odour not unlike that of marzipan. She adored marzipan.

Evelyn went to the bathroom, the source of the scent, to investigate further. The thing on the floor no longer resembled a body, having gone through some kind of metamorphosis. It now resembled the empty carapace of some giant insect and was the colour of golden, syrup. It glistened like crystallized treacle. She bent down, broke a piece off with her fingers. Crisp. Sticky. And with that unmistakable essence. Somehow it went straight into her mouth, without any fuss. Delicious. Quite delicious.

The horror of what she was doing suddenly hit her. She retched immediately, slamming the door on him. She only had one more day to go. Evelyn was determined to make it without deteriorating into some kind of cannibal. Determined even despite that terrible tearing pain in her belly. She wouldn’t be turned into an animal. There was a distinct sense of being manipulated and Evelyn had had enough of being used by others.

That night she paced the sands, fighting the craving, the agony. When the blessed morning came she simply stood in the shade, watching anxiously, listening for the sound of the helio. Nothing. Later, much later in the day, Evelyn realized they were not coming. She burst into tears before going into a foul-mouthed rage, cursing men, aliens and God: screaming at the sky, spitting venom at the sea, tearing leaves from the forest trees. When she had spent her wrath, she went on one of her desperate wretched searches for food. She discovered a nest of termites just inside the forest, some way from the house, and ate the creatures live, in handfuls.

A few days later she was no longer recognizable as Evelyn. She was a wild-eyed yet pathetic being: a filthy naked scavenger, claw-fingered, stinking, lank-haired. Anyone seeing her scraping away at earth mounds in the hope of finding insects or spiders would have winced in pity. Finally, in the middle of a moonlit night, she remembered what was in the house. Those who were watching saw a cunning look appear on her face, a sharp brightness come to her eyes. They knew that at last the abnormal hunger inside had told her exactly what was needed to satisfy the pangs.

She entered the house again, went straight to the bathroom.

Mantis-like, she crouched over the confectionery, devouring it slowly, piece by piece, satisfying the craving that plagued her belly.

When she had finished him they came to collect her.

She had questions. There were honest answers. There were also assurances from both sides that no one would ever say anything about the incident. They had their reasons for secrecy and she was certainly not going to tell anyone she had eaten her dead lover. And she now knew what Xavier had meant by her time. That had puzzled her at first and she had thought he must have meant something else. It was why he had waited, of course, to make love to her, knowing it could only be done once. On the flight home, her hands rested on her abdomen. She had made love with Tony many, many times without becoming pregnant, but the aliens of course had a different chemistry. The males could only do it once: it had to be a sure thing. What was essential to ensure conception, they had since told her, were the ingredients in the afterfood. She should feel no shame. Her baby depended upon it.

Her baby. How wonderful. Her baby.

She stared around her, trying not to feel smug. There were several other single women on board. Evelyn felt only slightly less special when she saw how rosy-cheeked and fulfilled one or two of them looked, just like the person she had seen in the mirror this morning.

Table of Contents

Start