"Okay," Kelly murmured, "before Alec explodes from sheer curiosity, let's have it. When and how?"

"You mean, when and how did it start?" Nyquist smiled. "Oh, I'm not reading your minds, Commander. For one thing I would not, as a matter of honour and courtesy...and for another, Colonel Freeman's drink and your glass of water contain, I believe, a certain beta-blocker of sorts."

"It inhibits telepathy," Kelly told Alec, who was now staring at his whisky as if it was poisoned, "a little something Jackson came up with. Purely precautionary," he barely smiled, taking a sip nonetheless.

"Good to know," Alec replied shakily.

"To continue: I have always had a modicum of talent, but unlike Croxley I learned to cope with it. I was fortunate in that my powers are not so great as his were; they developed more slowly. I'm told they pushed the poor man too hard, and rushed things rather."

"Told by whom?" Alec inquired. "And who are 'they'?"

"One thing at a time, Colonel," Nyquist chided mildly. "Last year I seemed to reach a plateau of sorts; it was only then that I actually felt them in my mind, though in fact by their own admission they first touched me eight years ago."

"Eight years ago?" Alec demanded. The implications hit him at once; he stared accusingly at Kelly.

"Yeah, I already knew, Alec, even then," Kelly admitted a tad sheepishly, "but the only person I discussed it with - because I wasn't sure then of what I'd discovered or what it meant - was Ed. But I did keep an eye on Andrew, just in case." He smiled wryly. "And, of course, he did absolutely nothing that could be construed as spying; nothing about his behaviour changed.

"I eventually realised he wasn't a spy, but that still didn't tell me what he was. When the new appropriation came up and we finally got the L-79s built, plus a design nearly finalised for the L-80s, I decided that was the time to bring you on board, even if I did misdirect you - for which, again, I apologise, but as I said, I had to know what they were up to and I honestly couldn't see any other way to find out."

"Okay," Alec sighed, "fair enough. Apology accepted." They shook hands, but Alec scowled. "But I'm still mad at you!"

"You'll forgive me for not being surprised," Kelly quipped dryly. Alec couldn't help chuckling.

"Perhaps at this point I should clarify exactly who 'they' are, gentlemen," Nyquist told them. "The Aliens are like us in more ways than we knew; like us, they as a species are far from being united, though there is not so much diversity." He looked sad as he mused, "Hardly surprising, in a dying race. Their society is currently divided into three groups: a military junta, who have ruled for decades; a moderate party, who would rather cooperate with Mankind than conquer us; and the general population, who for decades have believed whatever the military told them...until recently."

"Until forty-two years ago," Alec realised. "It was them! The Aliens speaking through Croxley were these 'moderates', weren't they?"

"Very good, Colonel," Nyquist applauded. "It was the military who were responsible for the destruction of Croxley's house and the death of his poor wife; they intended to use him to murder Commander Straker and your good self. The moderates discovered what they were doing, and hijacked the communication channel, as it were."

"Is that why the UFO flew so erratically?" Kelly wondered, recalling the notation to that effect in Straker's original write-up of the incident. "Both sides were fighting for control of the pilot and/or the UFO?"

"Indeed, yes," Nyquist confirmed, "but Croxley himself was never fully under either faction's control; instead he was fed suggestions, hostile thoughts, so that he would blame SHADO for his wife's death, and strike back in his understandable grief and anger. The fact that they could only influence him, not control him, was the reason he could allow himself to be shot by Colonel Foster. It was a way out for him, a release from the pain he could no longer bear." He sighed. "After all he had suffered, he wanted to die...and, really, who could blame the poor fellow?

"The military then attempted to silence the moderates, but were not entirely successful; they went underground, secretly contacting influential members of the Alien society, keeping them informed and waiting as patiently as they could for their opportunity. You see, the junta came to power by promising a quick and easy occupation of a rich but primitive planet, inhabited by uncivilised barbarian animals; such they have always described Earth to their populace. The military-faction Aliens have, in fact, been coming to Earth for over six thousand years."

"As Straker suspected," Kelly noted, "but there was no definitive proof."

"But - why didn't they conquer Earth then?" gaped Alec. "We wouldn't have stood a chance!"

"True, but their planetary situation was nowhere near as desperate back then, Colonel; the warning signs were there, but..." he sighed, "as I said, they are very like us. They ignored those signs and continued in their depredations, as we are still doing even though we know the harm we are doing to our world. They took a few specimens from Earth, but no more at that time.

"Their technology was not so advanced back then, either; they were limited to sublight speeds, and even given the Lorentz-Fitzgerald Contraction the voyage to Earth took many years. Only in the last sixty years or so have they developed - or rather, stolen from yet another race - the capabilities we have seen."

That last was very interesting...but it'd have to wait, Kelly reluctantly decided. He'd ask Andrew about it later. "So what's changed?"

"The military junta has lost its slim majority, Commander," Nyquist answered simply. "They promised a quick solution to their people's problems, but they have failed to deliver on their promises, and so the moderates have now taken control. They have told their people the truth about Earth and its populace. The question they asked through Croxley has been answered."

"Why do you attack us?"

That was the question that had consumed Ed Straker for years, Kelly knew: why had they asked that? Now, at last, they had the answer. "They didn't know, did they? They genuinely didn't know!"

"No," Nyquist confirmed gravely, "they did not know. Their people did not know, for the junta chose not to tell them. But now, they do...and they understand that we want to live as much as they do. And they have had enough, my friends - enough of empty promises, and lies, and wastage of resources they can ill afford to expend. The Alien people themselves voted the junta out of power, and the moderates in.

"It was they who contacted me, who offered to increase my sensitivity to the extent that we could communicate even over light-years, and give me the ability to act as a negotiator. This is necessary, because although in theory the Aliens can speak, they do not - they no longer even have a spoken language. Nor have they had for ten millennia, since they first developed telepathy and their mind-transferring capabilities. That is why they needed me; I will be the bridge between us."

Kelly was listening ecstatically. Everything Nyquist was saying confirmed Ed Straker's theories...and his hopes.

Coast of Cornwall, one mile from the Komack-Straker residence

Eight years ago

"Haven't you ever wondered about the inconsistency of the Aliens?" Ed asked, as they walked.

"How so?"

"Well, first they apparently try to talk to us, through Croxley, even though they killed his wife and destroyed his house; then later they target a Navy ship dumping deadly nerve gas at sea, attempting to wipe us out - not to mention that earthquake bomb they planted years before," Ed expounded on his thought.

"Yeah, it does seem odd," his companion agreed. Various operatives in the STAND had written papers and conducted analyses concerning this apparent contradiction, but had come to no firm conclusions. It didn't make sense that they wanted live humans for organ replacements and/or living bodies on the one hand, and yet had tried to wipe out Mankind on the other. For his part, Kelly had concluded they were all missing something; maybe Ed had discovered or deduced what that 'something' was. "I take it you have an explanation?"

"More of a theory," Ed admitted. "Suppose the Aliens are even more similar to us than we think - even to the extent of having different political parties, or whatever? What if their political landscape is unstable, shifting, and their strategies are reflected in that?"

"So they mount military-style operations when a military faction is in control," Kelly mused out loud, "and diplomatic when a more, um, moderate faction is. Yeah...yeah, that makes sense, Ed." He nodded slowly. "But...where does that leave us? We've no way of predicting their political shifts."

"No, that's true," Ed granted, "but if I'm right, SHADO should be prepared for both possibilities - the latter especially."

"Yes, I see...because whenever the moderates gain control -"

"- there's a chance for peace," Ed finished, "hence Project Hope."

"It was a project to find someone who could act as an intermediary," Kelly explained. "It was long-term, and entirely speculative, but based on the Nostradamus research. Even though it was a long shot, as he was the first to admit, Ed was convinced we'd get a chance at it one day. And now," he smiled, "we have."

"Yeah, but can we trust them?" was Alec's next, blunt question. He'd downed his drink in one and poured another, figuring he could use a beta-blocker about now. He wasn't feeling the intoxicating effects of the alcohol at all; what he was hearing was keying him up too much for that. He'd discovered early in his SHADO career that he had a peculiar metabolism which reacted to the combination of alcohol and adrenalin by imbuing him with remarkable mental clarity. But it wasn't his imagination, wishful thinking or a variation on the placebo effect; Jackson's tests had actually proved it.

Kelly knew this, which was why he hadn't pulled Alec up on the question of his drinking on duty - nor had Straker ever done so, for the same reason. Alec only succumbed to the alcohol's intoxicating effects after the action...and, in accordance with the principle that every benefit has a cost, he didn't just feel those effects - they tended to fall on him like a ton of bricks and leave him wishing he were dead for the next two days.

Right now, though, he needed that enhanced clarity of thought. He'd be happy (to phrase the matter loosely) to pay the price later.

If there was a 'later', of course - if anything went wrong with this venture, most likely it wouldn't matter any more.

"That's a necessary if obvious question," Nyquist acknowledged. "There is of course considerable risk to us, to Earth. They suggest we proceed cautiously, for our sake. Their proposal is that one UFO should land a safe distance from Moonbase, at a time and place of our choosing, where the landing site can be surrounded and secured by SHADO forces after the landing. One Alien will then disembark and proceed, unarmed, to meet them.

"A Moon Mobile can ferry the envoy to Moonbase, where you and I, Commander, will meet him in a secure, isolated environment. This will ensure the security of Moonbase, and of Earth." He sighed. "Then, finally, we shall end this destructive conflict, and bring peace at long last."

It seemed reasonable, with built-in safeguards; Kelly nodded when Alec signalled his assent. If it was good enough for his Exec, it was good enough for him. At worst, if it was a trap they might lose one Mobile and its crew (who, he decided instantly, would be volunteers), and Moonbase might be minimally damaged; that was an acceptable level of risk. As for the UFO on the surface, it could be taken out by the remaining Moon Mobiles and/or the Interceptors if need be, with relative ease.

"What terms are they asking for?" Kelly queried.

"None," Nyquist answered simply. "They know what you will ask for: medical and other technology in exchange for resources."

"FTL - the full theoretical description, from first principles," Kelly intoned flatly, "that's on the table or no deal."

Nyquist's features took on a blank, faraway look for a moment, as if he were listening to distant music only he could hear.

In a way, he was.

He shook himself abruptly, life and animation returned to his face, and he smiled. "They agree."

"What, just like that?" Alec wondered sceptically. "They're so willing to give up a major asset?"

"They lose nothing, really, since they know we already have the technology - albeit in a relatively primitive form - and would surely develop the full version on our own, in time," Nyquist pointed out mildly. "They have no objection to providing us with a shortcut, as it were."

Kelly exchanged glances with Alec. The latter was wary, cautious, but Kelly's face was alight with excitement, clutching Alec's arm. "They're giving us a chance at the stars, Alec! We've got to take it!"

"We have to inform Henderson," Alec reminded him, in an effort to keep his friend anchored and focused. He managed a chuckle. "Even if they give us the tech theory, we'll still have to develop it...and that'll cost."

"Yeah, yeah," Kelly grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it, Alec knew. He had to admit he was excited himself at the prospect. Given that human technology was constantly advancing and improving, surely they could develop the full theory in time by themselves, and maybe even improve on it, but a shortcut would certainly be welcome. Sure, it seemed too good to be true, but...

Hell with it. Kelly's right, it's worth the risk. At worst, we'll be back to where we started, and at best...!

Moonbase Control

One hour later

One UFO breaking formation on schedule, SID reported, new course Two-Seven-Eight, Three-Zero-Six, Green, speed SOL 4 and reducing. Trajectory termination: Lunar surface, coordinates One-Two-Seven, Three-Zero-Nine, ETA twenty-six minutes.

"Acknowledged, SID," Gay answered. "Moonbase Control to Interceptor Leader: come in."

"Leader to Moonbase: receiving loud and clear. Orders, Colonel?" Harmony's beautiful, sultry voice returned, sounding professional for once. As mischievous as she was, Harmony knew when to get down to business.

Dear God, I still can't believe my little girl's out there, Gay couldn't help thinking apprehensively, flying the fastest, deadliest war machine Man's ever built...

Then she took a firm hold of herself with the steely grim discipline that had become second nature to her in the first month after her recruitment. Harmony was not, she knew full well, a 'little girl'; she was a professional, trained and experienced - technically a veteran even, as she had actual combat experience. Her youth was irrelevant. So Gay put aside all such doubts and crisply ordered:

"New course: Two-Seven-Six, Three-One-Eight, Green, speed SOL 3. Rendezvous with incoming UFO and follow it down. Maintain defensive posture, missiles to be armed - repeat, armed. Rules Of Engagement as follows: Escort, relay observations, do not open fire without my express order or unless you are fired upon. Acknowledge."

"Yeah, yeah, we got it flat, Mum. Jeez."

"Acknowledge," Gay ordered again, harshly. On the other hand, this was no time for girlish attitude! God, I could slap her sometimes, SHADO regs or not!

Harmony conceded the point, sighing. "Interceptor Leader acknowledging, ROE confirmed - missiles hot, keep an eye on 'em, don't fire unless they do. Leader to Flight: form on me above Beacon Nine. Keep it tight, girls."

"Two to Leader: Acknowledged," Sabrina Rogers returned.

"Three to Leader: Roger," came the response from Ingrid, Harmony's closest friend and daughter of IAC Delegate Donna Svensdöttir.

Gay had time to feel intense pride in her daughter as the Utronic radar tracker showed Alpha Flight maintaining a very tight formation while they made their turn smoothly, precisely on course. Visual relayed by SID confirmed. In an amazingly short time she'd welded her pilots into a deadly, effective team; the manoeuvre was performed flawlessly. If Gay hadn't known better, she'd have sworn they'd been flying those Interceptors for years, not a few months.

UFO maintaining course and speed, SID announced. Interceptors will rendezvous in three minutes. No further UFO activity detected; main body of UFO fleet maintaining position.

So far, so good, Gay thought, confirming SID's report for herself with the habit of long practice (even though she knew perfectly well that SID never made mistakes). "Control to Moon Mobiles: immediate launch. Proceed to designated coordinates One-Two-Seven, Three-Zero-Nine." This was a small crater some 200 kilometres from Moonbase's outer perimeter; the distance was purely precautionary...perhaps excessive, but with the Aliens, you never knew. Having the UFO land in a crater would automatically afford the Mobile crews the high ground and thus a tactical advantage if things went south.

"Mobile One, roger," came the instant reply.

"Mobile Two, launching."

"Mobile Three, on our way, Colonel."

"Control to ground defences," Gay called.

"This is Ground Defence Control, Colonel, receiving."

"Deploy as ordered. Check all stations."

"All fire control stations manned and operational. Tank One now deploying."

Tanks Two and Three quickly followed suit, taking up positions around Moonbase to cover it from all directions. Each was armed with the latest laser and nuclear weaponry; Moonbase itself was now equipped with recently-installed laser cannons, deploying from heavily shielded and fortified positions on and around Moonbase. Some were manned, others remote-controlled; this was partly a matter of cost-cutting and partly field research to determine which would be most effective in the long term. Kelly would make his decision, in conjunction with Alec, Paul and Gay, following the next UFO attack on Moonbase.

What the IAC didn't know - and Kelly certainly had no intention of telling them until it was too late - was that he would implement whichever policy worked best even if it proved to be the more expensive of the two. On the principle that it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission he would make his decision, order the construction of whichever type was required and, if the IAC objected to the added cost, point out that it would in the long run be more expensive to halt and then restart work. He would keep a perfectly straight face as he did so, too.

Naturally the IAC had screamed about the overall cost - after all, both options were unavoidably expensive - but the tactical necessity was undeniable as even they had to admit; Moonbase was and always had been a primary target. It was argued - and even Kelly had to admit this was a fair point to civilians doubtless unfamiliar with the finer points of warfare and tactics - that perhaps only the tanks or the laser cannons, not both, were needed.

But even Henderson dismissed this; a combination of mobile and fixed defences was always best when defending a fixed position, as he well knew from his military experience (plus from his point of view it wouldn't hurt to score points with the Commander by building up goodwill for the future).

Finally, satisfied, Gay reported:

"Moonbase to SHADO Control: we're ready, sir."

Nyquist's only, mild comment on viewing the tactical board displaying the deployment of Moonbase forces was:

"All that for one UFO, Commander?"

"One is all it takes," Kelly shot back grimly. He turned to Alec. "When's the next lunar flight scheduled?"

"2200 tonight," was Alec's instant answer. Lunar flight scheduling was part of his job, so of course he always knew.

"Have it moved up to immediately we get to the field," Kelly ordered.

Alec shrugged. "Okay, but it'll need more fuel -"

"Alec, do you think I care right now? Reschedule it! Mr. Nyquist, you and I are going to Moonport!"

Lunar Module Two-Nine, SHADO Moonport

Thirty minutes later, T minus 180

There was no preamble, no warning from the ground crew. The radio speakers abruptly blared:

"McAllister, what the hell are you DOING?"

"Putting us both out of a job, I hope," was Kelly's cheery reply as he continued launch preparations. Everything looked good.

"Is there any verification of this? When Freeman called me, I couldn't believe what I was hearing!"

"This is in my job description, General," Kelly told Henderson. "The purpose of SHADO is to -"

"- destroy the Alien threat!"

"No. Its purpose is to defend the Earth. But nothing in the SHADO Charter says we have to destroy them to do that. Nor does it say we have to let them die out. I have all the authority I need to negotiate on behalf of Earth, as SHADO is a UN-chartered organisation. Check the regs and you'll see."

"I know the regs, dammit, I wrote half of 'em! You're taking a pretty broad interpretation of your role, Kelly...and you're risking everyone on Earth in the process!"

"Do you seriously think," Kelly asked very quietly, "that I don't know that?"

Henderson didn't reply for a while. With that, Kelly knew it was a done deal.

"You know what Ed would have done?"

The silence from Henderson's end went on a few seconds longer, and then he sighed, "Exactly what you're doing, dammit."

"Liftoff in two minutes, Commander," the pilot reported.

"Alright," Henderson conceded. "I guess peace is worth the risk. Good luck, you crazy fool."

"Thanks...I think," Kelly returned, and closed the channel. "In your own time, Matthews."

"Aye, sir," the young pilot, Arthur Matthews, acknowledged.

Fingernails were being abused all over SHADO as the UFO made a leisurely descent, tracked all the way by Interceptor One, which stood ready to blast it into scrap the instant it did anything untoward; Two and Three were holding station above them as cover. There were at least three breaches of regulations (and UK law) as people nervously smoked, but no-one bothered to chastise them. Everyone's attention was reserved solely for viewscreens and the intercoms.

UFO now on final approach, SID declared, Interceptor One maintaining course. UFO touchdown in ten seconds.

Harmony banked to keep the UFO in sight as she pulled up, close enough to the lunar surface for daisy cutting, had the Moon had daisies. "Lookin' good, Control. Five...four...three...two...one..."

As the tension mounted, Harmony finished:

"...touchdown! Crowd goes wild!"

"Harmony," Gay sighed under her breath, not for the first time. Joan and Nina exchanged amused glances. Harmony was usually irreverent almost to the point of insubordination, but they'd never made the mistake of confusing style with intent. She was, they knew, deadly serious when it came to her work, and she knew when to quit the kidding. They both liked her very much.

They'd never dare say it to Gay, but Harmony was very much her mother's daughter. Off-duty, Gay was entirely capable of letting her hair down - her philosophy had always been 'work hard, play hard'. Harmony agreed with this, in spades.

UFO touchdown confirmed, SID informed Moonbase. Positional discrepancy detected.

"Specify," Gay ordered concernedly. They couldn't afford errors -

0.3 metres northwards; 0.18 metres west.

SID was, she was sure, joking with her. She resolved, yet again, to have words with the AI's programmers and developers.

But in all fairness she had to admit she had been tempted to laugh.

Lunar Module Two-Nine, en route to Moonbase

Ten minutes after lift-off

"Have the envoy wait until the Mobiles arrive," Kelly requested of Nyquist. The little man nodded and looked distant again.

After a few seconds, he nodded once more. "He'll wait. In fact, he is willing to wait until we arrive, if need be."

"Might be best," Kelly mused. "Lunar Module to Moonbase: Mobile ETA?"

"Moonbase Control to LM Two-Nine: ETA twelve minutes, Commander," Gay reported. "Interceptors are maintaining cover."

"We'll be landing in - how long, Pilot?"

"Two hours, thirty-two minutes, sir," the young man replied.

"Did you get that, Gay?"

"Roger, Commander. SID confirms. We'll be waiting, sir."

"And if that thing even so much as twitches before the Mobiles get there -"

"- it'll be toast, Commander."

Kelly's face jumped in surprise. The voice was as feminine and as beautifully melodic as Gay's, but Gay it was not. He puzzled over it for a moment, then...

He grinned. After all, who else would it have been? "Harmony, this is a command channel."

"Oh, is it? Oops, sorry, sir," came the sheepish - and mischievous - response. No-one was fooled by her oh-so-innocent apology; the command channels were on a higher frequency than standard or combat channels, and couldn't be accessed by accident...or without command codes which someone as far down the Moonbase chain of command as an Interceptor pilot shouldn't have known.

Not for the first time, he considered rewriting SHADO regs so it would be permissible to spank uppity young female operatives...

Envoy UFO landing site, 200 kilometres from Moonbase outer perimeter

Twelve minutes later

"Control, this is Mobile One, landing in ten seconds."

"Mobile Two, landing in one minute twenty."

"Mobile Three, reporting slight loss of thrust - ETA two minutes seventeen seconds," was the final report. Gay nodded in satisfaction.

"Control to Mobiles: hold your positions just below the lip of the crater," she ordered. "Mobile commanders, disembark and take up observation positions. As a precaution, arm yourselves - I want all of you equipped with sidearms, and at least one on each team with a rocket launcher."

"Mobile One has landed, Colonel - disembarking now. We are all armed."

Two hours later, nothing had stirred; apparently the envoy (if he was one; there was a certain amount of understandable scepticism) was waiting for LM Two-Nine. Lieutenant Abigail Frost, commanding Mobile One, gazed down intently at the UFO through her electrobinocs. "It's just sitting there, Control. No glowy lights, no signs of movement...strike that," she pulled herself up sharply, "movement! There's a hatch opening! I can see an Alien...just one."

"Is he armed?" Gay asked tersely.

"Not that I can see, Colonel." She tightened the focus still further, but could see no sign of one of the slug-throwers the Aliens were known to use. Her mind then proved how capricious human memory could be; she recalled a training class in which she'd asked what she'd thought was a good question:

"Sir, why don't the Aliens have more advanced hand weapons? Why are they still using slug-throwers?"

"Well, what would they use instead?"

"Um, energy weapons, sir - lasers, maybe? We know they have the tech. I've read after-action reports -"

"Energy weapons," her instructor had told her with studied patience, "would pretty much fry anyone they fired at. They wouldn't be much use to the Aliens then, would they? They want their victims more or less intact physically, so they can butcher them for spare parts."

"Oh...oh, yes," she'd recalled sheepishly. "Sorry, sir, I, um, forgot that bit."

Enough already, Frost thought, annoyed at herself. Luckily her moment of recollection hadn't lasted long enough for her to miss hearing Colonel Bradley's next words:

"Cover him," the Colonel commanded, "but you're to hold your fire unless fired upon. The ROE for the Interceptors apply to you, too."

"Copy, Control. The hatch has closed - there's just one Alien. I say again, one Alien only. He doesn't appear to be armed."

"Mobile Two to Control: we have a different viewing angle here. Confirm no apparent armament."

"He's walking away from the UFO, doesn't appear to be in a hurry," Frost observed.

A new voice broke into the comnet: "Lieutenant Frost, are you willing to take a risk?"

Um, didn't I do that when I volunteered for this gig? Frost couldn't help wondering impishly. She almost giggled. Oops, tension's getting to me - gotta remember my training. She took a deliberate breath and answered him, "Yes, Commander. Orders, sir?"

"Put down your weapon," Kelly ordered. "Let him see you doing it. Then stand up."

Everyone in the Mobile crews glanced uneasily at each other on hearing that. Okay, the guy (?) was supposed to be a peace envoy, but still...

To her credit, Frost hesitated only briefly. It's a time to take risks, Abby. She acknowledged and complied, trying to ignore the feeling that someone had just painted a large target on her chest.

The Alien stopped walking.

Praying she was doing the right thing and that Commander McAllister knew what he was doing, she raised her right hand in what she hoped he'd see as a gesture of peace.

The Alien did the same.

"Commander, should we try to call them?" Davina Marks, Mobile Two's CO, inquired.

"They don't have a spoken language, Marks." Kelly informed her, though he was pleased someone had suggested it, as it implied they wanted the peace as badly as he did. "You'll have to make do with gestures. Frost, lower your right hand and raise your left. Tell me what he does."

She did as ordered; the Alien followed suit, as she dutifully reported.

"Okay, good," Kelly pronounced. "Give him a come-on gesture and point towards your Mobile."

"Sir, we'll have to leave someone behind," Frost suddenly realised, "to make room for him -"

"That's a good point," Kelly admitted. "Okay, let's see...yeah, leave your crew on station, with extra oxygen cylinders, to maintain observation on the UFO," he decided. "Once you've dropped him off at Moonbase, you can come back for them."

"Roger," Frost answered. She carried out her orders; the Alien gave her a nod and started walking towards her.

Peace envoy or not, covered or not, well-trained or not, she had never been so frightened. She'd never been so close to an actual living Alien before; then again, few people in SHADO had. True, the guy was just one Alien, but...

...but he was an Alien, by definition an unknown quantity.

He made his way up the crater wall and drew level with her on its lip. The other members of her crew started to raise their weapons almost by reflex, but Frost stopped them with a gesture, glad they couldn't see how pale she was. She held out a hand to the Alien, desperately trying not to wet herself.

Every Moonbase officer's responsible for her own spacesuit, Abby, her mind pointed out impishly. If you pee in it, you'll have to clean it.

The thought brought a hysterical giggle to her lips, but she choked it back somehow.

Clearly he knew human customs, as Paul Foster's erstwhile ally had not, all those years ago; he touched his spacesuited hand to hers. At that moment, Lieutenant Abigail Frost became the first SHADO officer since Paul Foster to put her hand in that of an Alien.

And she did wet herself. She never quite lived it down.

"F - Frost to Moonbase Control," she called shakily, "peace envoy is now boarding Mobile One." Damn, I wish I hadn't done that...