In front of the craft is an eight-foot tall, bipedal creature. Its arms and legs are rectangular with claw-like hands and feet at the ends. The body is neckless and bulky. It resembles the Transformers I played with as a child—the ones that shifted from a robot to a car or a truck.
I walk into the field, straight at the creature, until I stand face-to-face with the thing, my rifle raised to my shoulder. My heart is pounding, and I feel sweat trickling down the center of my back and into my shorts.
The creature shifts, and its arms and legs come together as if it’s standing at attention. I hear a hissing sound as it moves, and it makes me think it runs on hydraulics. A claw-like hand rotates and the fingers open. There’s a distinct hum, and a flickering image appears in front of the creature. It comes into focus and solidifies before my eyes.
The image is vaguely human. It’s tall with thin arms and legs, and the hands are misshapen with two fingers and two thumbs, mimicking the claws on the creature. The image is devoid of clothing though there are no sexual parts displayed—no genitals, no nipples. The image appears to have long hair, but there are no individual strands.
The face of the image though…the face is Hannah’s.
“Greetings, Falk Eckhart.” The voice is feminine but hollow. It’s similar to voices heard on navigation systems and smartphones.
I slide my finger over the trigger and try to see past the image, well enough to determine the most vulnerable spot on the creature behind it, as a sense of déjà vu creeps through me.
I’ve been in this exact position before.
“You have questions,” it says.
“A few, yeah.” I can’t hide my aggressive tone. I’m sure it doesn’t understand the concept of sarcasm anyway.
“Ask, please.”
The image’s hand rises, its palm pointing upward as the head tilts slightly to the right. I swallow hard as I aim the rifle at the space between the creature’s head and torso.
“Your high velocity projectile weapon will not impact me.”
“That isn’t you,” I respond, nodding toward the huge metal contraption.
“You are correct,” the image says. “My body is encased in a protective covering that provides suitable conditions to sustain my life. Your weapon cannot penetrate this protective covering.”
“You said that the last time.” I don’t lower the rifle. I’ve believed this thing before, and I don’t have any reason to believe it now, assuming it is one of the three I’d encountered previously.
“I am not here to harm you, Falk Eckhart.” I tense as it speaks again. “You have questions, and I am willing to answer them.”
“Are you Vole?” Images of a similar creature along with two companions fill my head. In the dim light coming from the craft, I can’t be sure if the protective suit it wears looks exactly the same as the one I had seen or not. There is a symbol over the front of it that resembles an atom, and I remember seeing the same symbol before. The first time, they were in the desert near the border between Saudi Arabia and Iraq.
“I am.”
“The image you’re projecting is different.”
“The image locks onto your psyche,” Vole says. “At the time, the person in the forefront of your mind was a young man under your command, one who had been killed in an attack shortly before our encounter. Now, your focus is on your mate.”
I narrow my eyes at Vole’s choice of words but don’t argue the semantics.
“You lied to me,” I say. “You said you were going to pass us by.”
“My exact words were, ‘I see no benefit in further observation or interaction with your species,’” Vole says. “That is the information I conveyed to my superiors.”
I’m frustrated by the inability to see the creature’s face—observe its expressions, assuming I could understand them at all. Not knowing what it really looks like unnerves me. I want to know the face of my enemy.
“You said we weren’t ideally suited for your needs,” I say, not wanting to waste any time with this thing, “but you took the women and children. Why?”
“We were in need of vast labor forces,” it says. “It was determined that the females and offspring of your species best fit those needs. They were deemed more likely to cooperate than human males. Your species is not ideal, and I did not see any benefit to its use, but we had deadlines to meet.”
“Deadlines?”
“Our supplies were running low. There wasn’t adequate time to locate another population.”
“Where are they now?”