Act Normal, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 9 Read online

helped me many times with difficult cases and had asked little in return. He even saved my life on one occasion when an assassin was on my trail. I never suspected his generosity was calculated for a specific end. I guess I had been incredibly naive. But, I knew it was the CIA and the bureaucrats who were calling the shots, not Mo. He had tried to protect me as best he could, but I had let myself get recruited. It could have been avoided if I'd just said no thanks in the beginning.

  "Better," I said.

  "How about your wife?" he asked.

  Rebekah. That was another story. She'd never be better. She had been more or less a zombie since the funeral. Luckily her mother lived nearby and had been able to stay with her and the children. I dreaded going home at night. There were no smiles, no small talk, just silence. Rebekah hadn't said it, but I knew she blamed me for Peter's death; and well she should. It was my fault. There was no doubt about that.

  "The same," I said.

  "Hmm. Sorry."

  "So, what do you want?" I said bitterly.

  Mo sighed. "We have a situation and we need your help."

  "I'm listening, " I said, pressing the phone hard against my ear. I had been waiting for this call—wondering why the aliens would need someone like me on their payroll.

  "We can't talk about it over the phone. I'm around back at the service entrance to your building in a blue BMW. Come on down."

  "But—" I started to protest, then realized there was no point. "Okay, I'm coming down."

  I looked at my briefcase wondering if I'd need it, then decided I better take it. There may be some paperwork involved in the assignment or I might need to take notes. After stepping out of the elevator I turned right, took the back corridor through the mail room and passed the service elevator. As I exited out onto the loading dock, I saw the blue BMW, walked toward it, and got in.

  Mo took off with a jerk and turned left toward LBJ freeway.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "To meet Kulchz," he replied evenly.

  My skin turned cold again thinking of the alien commander who was in charge of the abduction of thousands of American children. What kind of a man was he? Was he really human? The aliens looked like us. Mo had said they were human, but how could that be?

  "Can I ask questions, or do I have to just do as I'm told?" I asked.

  Mo smiled. "Sure, what do you want to know?"

  “You said the aliens were human. How can that be?"

  "I don't know. I've been told that Earth and Tarizon are sister colonies having been settled about the same time. Apparently we have common ancestors."

  "Common ancestors?"

  "Yes, apparently millions of years ago there was a planet out there somewhere inhabited by humans. As technology advanced and life expectancy increased, the planet got overcrowded and couldn't sustain the population. Because of this, settlers started journeying out into space searching for alternative places to live. One of those groups of settlers found Tarizon and another, Earth."

  I sat back and closed my eyes trying to fathom all of this. It was just too bizarre and impossible to believe. Yet I'd seen their spaceship, the memory gun, the frogmen, and they'd taken my son. How much proof did I need? "What about the frogmen? I asked. “Tell me about them."

  "They call them Seafolken," Mo said. "They're slaves who man the ships and do all the hard labor."

  "I thought this society was advanced. How come they still have slavery?"

  "I don't know. All I know is the Seafolken are strong, fast, and have psychic powers you wouldn't believe. You don't want to mess with them."

  "If they are so fearsome, how do the humans keep them in line?"

  Mo shrugged. "Hell, I don't know. You can ask Kulchz. Maybe he'll enlighten you."

  We were on I30 now heading east. When we got to the Lake Tawakoni exit, Mo got onto the state highway and headed south.

  "Why are we going to Lake Tawakoni?" I asked.

  "That's where the aliens moved their headquarters after you screwed up their base of operations at Possum Kingdom Lake. They have to land near a lake so the Seafolken can feed."

  I nodded. A few miles down the road, Mo took a right onto a county road that took us deep into a wooded area. He made several more turns and each time the road got narrower and was less maintained. Soon we were on a dirt road deep in the middle of nowhere. Finally, he stopped at a gate. He got out and unlocked it.

  In the distance I could see the lake. Mo got in and drove us through the gate and then stopped to lock it behind us. Nobody would find the aliens out here, I thought. I doubted I could even find my way back to Dallas, if something happened to Mo. We drove another ten minutes and finally stopped by an old, dilapidated oil storage tank. As I got out of the car, I noticed a door had been cut into the side of the tank. Mo led us through it.

  The dank interior was only illuminated by a single blue light above the door. I stopped to let my eyes adjust and asked, "Where are we going?"

  "Kulchz has an office underground," Mo replied, pushing me forward. "Just up ahead you'll see a hatch that will lead us down to it."

  I walked forward with caution, and as my eyes adjusted to the low light, I saw a metal railing protruding up from a hatch. Mo nudged me toward the railing, so I grabbed it and started down. At the bottom I found myself in a long corridor that went in both directions. It was stark white and well lit. I waited for Mo.

  "Which way?" I asked.

  "Follow me," he said. As best I could tell, he went south toward the lake. A few minutes later he stopped in front of a door, looked into an eye hole, and the locking mechanism clicked. He pushed the door open and walked in. I followed him with much trepidation.

  Kulchz was a tall human with broad muscular shoulders and a rugged face. He looked at me intently as I entered the spacious office that appeared to be made of glass or crystal. There were thousands of lights, control panels, and monitors of every sort. He motioned for us to sit down. The room was furnished with several chairs and a sofa cushioned by a soft, white substance. When I sat down, the seat conformed itself to the shape of my body. As I sank into it, I felt like I was floating on air.

  Kulchz sat in front of a large, glowing desk. With the faint blue glow came a steady humming noise that changed pitch from time to time. I looked at it curiously.

  Kulchz nodded slightly. "Mr. Turner, at last we meet."

  "Yes," I said. "I figured one day we would. This is quite a place you have here."

  "Yes, it will do for our limited purposes."

  My hands were shaking so I slipped them under my thighs to quiet them.

  Kulchz smiled. "There's no reason to be nervous, Mr. Turner. We mean you no harm and your son is doing quite well on Tarizon."

  Anger swelled in me as I thought of Peter being a captive of these intruders. As if he'd read my mind Kulchz said, "He's not a captive. He's been assigned temporary quarters and has been provided a guide to teach him the ways of Tarizon."

  "Really? So, he got there okay? He's not sick or anything?"

  "No, he's perfectly healthy and actually enjoying himself, I believe."

  A monitor clicked on and there was an image of Peter being led down a crystal hallway by a woman dressed in a white gown. As she stopped in front of a room she looked toward the camera. She was young and quite pretty. She said something and Peter laughed. He seemed quite taken with her and looked as happy as I’d ever seen him. Tears of joy welled in my eyes and I could scarcely keep from crying. Peter was alive! He was okay!

  The monitor went blank and Kulchz smiled. "So, worry not about Peter. He'll be fine as long as you do your job."

  "My job?" I said. "What is my job?"

  Kulchz sighed. "There's been, what would you call it, a . . . ah . . . botched, I believe is the term . . . a botched extraction."

  "Really? What went wrong?"

  "Nothing with the extraction itself. Everything seemed to go as planned. It was staged as a parental abduction as it often is, but there is a police detecti
ve who won't accept this explanation. He thinks the wife is involved in the disappearance somehow and is out to prove it."

  "Who's the detective?"

  "Kramer. Will Kramer," Mo replied.

  “Hmm. I don’t know him. Does he have any evidence?”

  "We don't know. All we know is that this detective must be stopped, and you've got to do it."

  "So, you want me to represent this woman?"

  "Yes, defend her and prove she's innocent. You must stop the detective too. If he keeps digging, he might discover the truth and then we . . . well you know what we'd have to do."

  I knew only too well what they'd do. The two options that had been explained to me were having my memory erased or being exiled to Tarizon. The problem with memory erasing was that it was imprecise and unpredictable. It was quite possible that months or years might be erased unnecessarily. There was even the possibility of brain damage. Living on a strange planet away from family and friends didn’t offer much appeal either.

  "Yes, I guess I do. . . . So, why don't you just abduct the woman and save us all a lot of trouble? Take her to Tarizon to be with her family?"

  "We can't do that. Our treaty with the U.S. government doesn't allow it nor do we want the Earth mothers on Tarizon where they might try to interfere with the home family."

  "What about Peter and Dr. Gerhardt?" I asked. Did the treaty allow you to take them?"

  "If the program’s invisibility is in jeopardy, then it can be done as a matter of national security, but that is not the case with this woman. We have to try very hard to resolve these kinds of problems without resort to violence