Chapter 6
The early morning sun streamed through Fairfax's office window. Waterman had spent most of the rest of the night typing up his report of the skirmish with the Aliens and could barely stifle a yawn as he waited for his Commanding Officer to finish reading it.
He glanced at his watch: Eight fifteen. Waterman would normally be tucking into one of Mrs Harris' home-cooked breakfasts right about now.
Fairfax finished reading the final sheet, closed the report and laid it on the desk. He looked up.
"Well, that seems straightforward enough. It's just a pity that we couldn't capture it intact. "
"We did manage to find some pieces, sir" replied Waterman "and we've also got the bodies of the crew and one of their weapons"
"OK" replied Fairfax "I'll see about getting them sent to Farnborough for analysis." If the scientists at the Royal Aircraft Establishment couldn't make anything of it, no one could.
"What's the news on Jenkins?" Waterman's report had mentioned the casualties.
"He was hit in the shoulder sir. " Replied Waterman. "The MO reckons he was very lucky. "
Fairfax nodded. "I'll look in on him later. " A thought occurred to him, "This civilian…"
"Ford, sir" Waterman offered.
"Yes, Ford. What do we know about him?"
"He's a reporter, sir, working for the BBC. " Replied Waterman. "He used to be a Flight Lieutenant up at Fylingdales. He got fed up about five years ago and put in his papers. He told me about it as we drove back to my digs." Waterman yawned, stretched and winced; his spine was still recovering from the compression caused by the ejection seat. What had started as a routine training mission had rapidly become anything but after the Lightning he'd been piloting had suffered engine failure just after take-off. He'd ejected in time but the explosive acceleration of his seat away from the aircraft had compressed his spine. Temporarily unfit to fly, he'd been posted to an Air-Defence squadron until such time as he was given the all clear by the doctors of the Central Medical Establishment at Kelvin House in London; a stone's throw from the Post Office Tower.
Fairfax realised just how tired the young officer must be. "How's the back?"
"Hurts like hell, sir"
OK, Waterman, push off home and get some sleep. Tell Ford that I'd like to talk to him about what he saw last night. Bring him with you when you come back on duty. I'll arrange a pass for him. Dismissed"
Waterman snapped to attention, saluted smartly, turned and left the room.
As Waterman's footsteps faded away down the corridor, Fairfax picked up his telephone.
"Can you get me Personnel Records, please?"
SANDRINGHAM HOUSE
PRIVATE PROPERTY.
MAIN ENTRANCE
100 YDS
The Alien looked at the sign blankly - the polished metal plate with the strange engraved squiggles meant nothing. For several hours he had trudged across the dark alien countryside, trying to put as much distance between himself and the landing site as possible. The humans would obviously comb the area, he was sure. He could not let himself be captured and interrogated.
Finally, his path had been blocked by a high stone wall with this mysterious metal plate on it. Set into the wall was a small wooden door. He tried to open it. Locked.
Climbing the wall was impossible - the flint facing and vicious-looking spikes set into the top made sure of that. He would have to walk around the perimeter.
As he pushed his way into the bushes, he became aware of a low hissing sound. Curious, he cocked his head to one side. The sound was coming from quite close by. Intrigued, he followed the sound deeper into the undergrowth. It was much louder now, more insistent. Something shifted under the Alien's foot and he was suddenly aware of a stinging sensation in his ankle.
Looking down, he was aware of two small puncture wounds in his boot, through which the life-support liquid slowly seeped. He sat down on a tree stump, placed his gun on the ground and opened the suit repair kit that he always carried. The quick setting solution should do the trick.
Funny, his fingers seemed fuzzy and slow to react. He fumbled as he carried out the repairs to his suit. He blinked - everything seemed to be out of focus.
The tube slipped from his fingers. He reached out for it. It seemed further away. His chest felt as if it were being squeezed in a giant vice. He coughed and pink foam appeared at his lips. What was happening? The world seemed to be slipping away. He blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision. Gasping for breath that would not come, the Alien slumped to the ground. As he slipped into a coma and his vision faded to nothing, he could hear the rush of blood in his ears and feel the thumping of his racing heart.
Poison sacs now empty, the adder, upon which the unfortunate Alien had stepped, slithered away into the undergrowth.
Group Captain Fairfax's request was taking longer than expected. His call for a summary of Ford's personnel file had been referred to RAF Innsworth, in Gloucestershire. Despite the hour, the staff were already at work. So far, without success.
"What do you mean missing?" Thundered Sue Haysey, the Higher Clerical Officer in charge of the Registry. "I mean it's not there," replied Joyce Eames, the hapless registry Clerk.
"Well look in the cards to see who's got it then" Haysey snapped. "Honestly," She muttered to herself. "Kids o' today know nothin'. "
With a heartfelt sigh, she realised she'd have to show the clerk how to do the job properly.
Poliomyelitis, contracted whilst a child, meant that she spent most of the time in a wheelchair. At a pinch, she could walk, aided by crutches, but the heavy metal callipers she needed made every step difficult and tiring. She trundled her wheelchair over to the four-drawer filing cabinets that lined the walls and began the search.
As they always did, the two boys pushed through the hole in the hedge and crossed the farmer's field. Having lived in the same street for as long as either could remember, Simon and Andrew had become firm friends and spent virtually all their free time in each other's company. The shortcut to school offered endless opportunities, passing as it did beneath a large horse chestnut tree. One day, they hoped to find 'The Conqueror' that would massacre all competition.
Today, however, the topic of conversation was the previous evening's television.
"I liked the bit where the Aliens blew up the Interceptor. " Simon said sagely.
"It was all right," Replied Andrew. "But I like the Submarine that shoots into the air. "
"Yeah, " Replied his friend, but why don't they all fall over when it takes off?"
"P'raps they all hang on to handles or have magnetic boots or somethin'"
On reaching the other side of the fence, the boys came to a derelict five-bar gate; the second and third bars had long since rotted away. To two adventurous youngsters, the possibilities were endless:
"Interceptors, Immediate launch!" yelled Simon, emulating his on-screen heroes. With that, he grasped the top bar of the gate and swung his legs through the gap. Andrew followed him and soon, the two boys, arms outstretched to the sides, piloting their imaginary fighters, were searching the depths of space, hunting for alien invaders.
"So, Mr Ford," Asked Mrs Harris, placing a fresh pot of tea in front of her guest, "What were you planning on doing today?"
"I thought I'd go into town and see if there's a photographer's. " Replied Ford. "I'd like to get a film developed. "
Before Mrs Harris could reply, the door opened and a tired-looking figure entered the room.
"Mr Waterman!" Exclaimed Mrs Harris. "What have you been doing? She reached for another cup.
"I had to work late, Mrs H.," yawned Waterman. "There was a bit of a flap on last night. "
"Well, get this inside you," She replied, passing the freshly poured tea to her guest. "I'm sure you could do with it. "
Waterman gratefully sipped at the warm liquid as Mrs Harris went to prepare his breakfast.
As the door closed behind her, Waterman put the cup down; "The CO would like to see you. "
"Oh?" Ford was surprised.
"Don't worry," Waterman reassured him. "He just wants you to confirm what we saw last night. "
Haysey frowned as she looked at the file index. Each file's details were recorded on a small card. Under the summary, a space had been left for details of who had borrowed it, their branch and the dates of loan and return.
There's somethin' funny goin' on here," She muttered to herself. The card for Flight Lieutenant Keith Alexander Ford, 453216, RAF (Retired) had been very easy to find. Unlike those for the other records, the card was pristine white. In a few months, the card would have yellowed to such a degree that it would be indistinguishable from the others. Obviously, it had recently been replaced. More intriguing was the final entry: 'Transferred to: AS 5e, RAE Farnborough'. The entry was dated the previous week.
"That's not right!" exclaimed Eames, "No files were sent out of this building last week"
"Well, we'd better check anyway. Check the archive again. I'll chase this card." Replied Haysey. She picked up the telephone. "Can you get me RAE Farnborough?"
Twenty minutes after leaving his lodgings, Waterman's car pulled up at the gates of RAF West Raynham. As was normal, the barriers were down. A Flight Sergeant, currently on sentry duty, saluted smartly. "Good Morning, sir. May I see your pass?"
Waterman fished out his ID card and showed it to the guard. "I have a visitor to see the Station Commander, a Mr Ford"
"I'll just check that, sir". The guard marched back to the guardhouse and picked up the telephone.
Fairfax finished jotting down some notes on a pad, The telephone held to his ear. "That's all there is…Right, Thank you. " Deep in thought, he replaced the receiver. The information he'd received from Personnel had been unexpected. At that moment, the telephone rang. "Yes?…Yes, That's right. Book him in and send him up. "
He stood, turned and gazed through the window
The sentry marched back to the car. "If you'd like to follow me, sir, I'll issue you with a visitor's pass. "
Ford followed him into the guardhouse.
Eames was just as unsuccessful as her superior; although she had found the correct drawer in the relevant cabinet, the document wallet, a potted history of Flight Lieutenant Ford's life, was missing. Even a search in the bottom of the drawer proved futile. Noting the shelf number, she hurried back to her office
The sunlight glittered from the alien weapon, catching the attention of the two boys.
"Wow! A ray gun!" exclaimed Simon, picking it up.
Although raised in the country, and familiar with shotgun safety, the Alien weapon was so toy-like; the boys' natural instincts were never aroused
Waterman knocked on the door
"Come In"
Waterman opened the door and showed Ford into the office.
Fairfax stood to welcome his visitor.
"Ah, Mr Ford," she smiled as he shook his visitor's hand. "Thank you for coming. "
He waved his visitor to a comfortable chair. He turned to Waterman; "Thank you, Lew.
"Sir". Waterman saluted smartly, turned and left.
As the door closed, Fairfax turned to his visitor.
"Coffee?"
"Thank you"
"Now," said Fairfax "Down to Business"