3. Not Just Another Fairy Tale
(A UFO Story)
by Denise Felt 2011

Chapter 1

Dr. Jackson fluffed the special extra-loft pillow on the narrow hospital bed one last time in preparation for his most difficult patient.  He had found a long time ago that, when dealing with the commander in a medical situation, psychology had to play a much larger role than normal.  In fact, he had to count on the bed looking so inviting that the commander would want to lie down.  And the standard flat pillows used for these beds had no chance of enticing Straker into relaxing. 

So the doctor had ordered a very special pillow just for the commander’s occasional visits.  The results so far had been encouraging.  Straker continued to grouse about having to be examined.  He still frowned at the mere thought of having any wound tended.  But his eyes always betrayed him by glancing longingly at that comfortable pillow, and eventually he would give in and lie down on the bed. 

The doctor smiled to himself as he stepped back from the bed.  He was ready for the commander today.  He had a nurse standing by in the adjoining room, awaiting his signal to bring in his tray of surgical instruments.  It would never do for the commander to see them before he was on the bed.  Even the pillow wouldn’t work in that instance.  But the doctor had seen the commander’s car when they brought it in for study, so he had a fair idea of the shape his most important patient was going to be in when he came into the Medical Centre.  Once he was able to get the commander examined, the first order of business would be to sedate him.  That way, when he woke up in the hospital instead of the Medical Centre, it would be far too late for him to complain about it.

He had been surprised to learn that the Commander wasn’t being brought in on a gurney.  Apparently, he was still able to walk without assistance.  This was a concern.  No one should be capable of walking around after hours of heavy bleeding.  Unless –

But Jackson cut his thoughts off at that point.  He had no intention of entertaining such hideous conjectures until forced to do so.  It was more important to focus on the fact that the commander had been found and was coming in for treatment.  After all, a positive mental attitude was a physician’s most effective tool.

He turned with a welcoming smile when the door slid open.

Commander Straker walked into the Medical Centre’s examining room.  “Jackson,” he said, hiding his own smile at the sudden look of consternation on the doctor’s face.

“Commander,” Dr. Jackson murmured, noticing the immaculate condition of his patient with a great deal of shock.  After a dumbfounded moment, he met Straker’s eyes and asked blandly, one brow raised, “You were injured in the crash, weren’t you?”

Straker momentarily allowed his smile to emerge.  “Oh, yes.  Quite enough to have incapacitated me, I assure you.”

“Indeed?”

The commander nodded calmly, as though they were discussing the weather.  “A pretty severe concussion, complete with double vision, nausea, bleeding, and a nasty bruise.  I’m assuming one or more ribs were broken or at least badly cracked, because breathing was a chore.  I know that I had internal injuries, as well as a deep gash on my right leg.”  He considered for a moment, then added, “Actually, that wound may have nicked an artery.  I can’t be certain, but I do know that it bled like the devil and took the longest to heal.”

“I see,” said the doctor, who clearly didn’t.  “And can you explain why you no longer have those injuries, Commander?”

“Certainly,” Straker answered promptly.  “I had help.”

Jackson searched that enigmatic face, trying to discern if the commander was serious.  Not that Straker was given to joking, but the . . . situation was certainly unique enough to make him wonder.  After a moment, he said, “Would you be willing to submit to an examination?”

The commander sighed.  “Of course, Doctor.  I owe you that much, at least, don’t I?”

Jackson wisely did not answer that sarcastic question.

* * *
Several times during the checkup, the doctor frowned as he examined his patient.  Normally, Straker would have peppered him with questions, his aversion to submitting to the indignity of a physical exam forcing him to try and retain some sense of control.  But this time, the commander resisted the desire to speak, well aware that the doctor was out of his element and trying to establish a measure of control himself.  It wasn’t until the exam was finished and the doctor was removing his stethoscope that Jackson even met Straker’s eyes.

“Well, Commander,” he said as calmly as possible.  “It appears that you did indeed have some ‘help’ in your recovery.  In fact, I see no sign that you were ever injured.  How was that accomplished in the limited time frame of one night?”

Straker grimaced slightly.  “I am well aware that my injuries would have kept me in the hospital for at least a week, Doctor.”

“Oh, at least that long,” agreed the doctor blandly.  He didn’t bother to add that such a time frame was assuming that the commander survived his injuries.  He knew the commander had to have been aware of the seriousness of his situation without being reminded.  “Would you mind explaining why such a stay is not necessary?”

“That may take a while.  First, however, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright.”

“Do you remember just over a month ago, when we spoke about the problem with the leak in our R&D department?”

“Yes.”

Straker nodded.  “Yes.”

Dr. Jackson stared at him in confusion for a moment before understanding.  “Ah!  And you wish to ascertain that neither of us is under alien control before you speak any further on the subject of your recovery.”

“Exactly.”  The commander smiled wryly.  “I’m sure the isolation chamber was already planned as a part of my examination, wasn’t it?”

“Definitely,” agreed the doctor.

* * *
For a moment after the lights in the tiny room went out, Straker had to fight an overwhelming need to shudder, because the foetid smell of the cave immediately came back to him in the darkness.  He was forced to remind himself repeatedly that he was no longer there, but in a small room in HQ.  Eventually, the smell faded.  But for those endless seconds, the isolation chamber had seemed imbued with that odor of decay and death.

Suddenly, a small hand pressed against his fist as it clenched the chair’s armrest.  “Nyt?” he whispered in the dark, his terror evaporating with her presence.  After a minute or two, he was able to let go of the chair and hold her hand instead.  “Thank you,” he breathed, too grateful for her comforting touch to be ashamed that she was aware of his weakness.  He had thought that his claustrophobia was no longer a major problem, his ordeal in the wrecked submarine last year having forced him to endure until it abated on its own.  But he now realized that this recent crisis had brought him right back to the beginning with the phobia, and it was as if he had never conquered it at all.  It was not a pleasant prospect to consider, but he supposed he could not have expected Nyt and her fellow keepers to be able to heal his mind as well as his body in the wake of the crash.

When he left the isolation chamber, he found Jackson frowning over the readout.  “Trouble?” he asked calmly.

The doctor glanced at him and shrugged.  “Only the same minor anomaly that occurred last time, Commander, just toward the end.  A blip that goes off the chart.”

“I see.”  Straker smiled softly.  “I think I can explain that.”

“Oh?” the doctor asked, surprised that the commander was willing to volunteer information.

Straker’s smile widened.  “But first . . .”

“Of course, Commander.  My turn.”  Jackson headed into the isolation chamber.

* * *
They did not return to the examining room after the tests were complete, but instead went directly to Dr. Jackson’s office.  The doctor poured them both a cup of coffee from his pot, then sat behind his desk while the commander took a chair in front of the desk.  Jackson set his cup down after taking a drink, folded his hands on the desktop, and said, “Well, Commander?”

Straker held his coffee between his hands and met the doctor’s eyes.  “When the incident occurred with the R&D team, I told you I’d had a tip about a possible traitor in our midst.  Do you remember?”

“Of course.”

“You never asked who’d given me the tip.”

Jackson’s brow raised.  “Since you didn’t offer to tell me that particular detail, I respected your silence.  We all have our own particular avenues of information, after all.  If I don’t ask you for yours, perhaps you won’t ask me for mine.”

Straker grinned.  “One thing I like about you, Jackson, is that you always see the big picture.”

The doctor’s lips quirked.  “Why, thank you, Commander.”  After a moment, he sat back, sobering.  “I take it that I’m about to learn the identity of your informant and that this person has some bearing on your recent crisis.”

“Yes.”  The commander took a deep breath.  “Her name is Arianythra, and she is a fairy.”

The doctor was surprised into a chuckle.  “Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

After a long silence in which the doctor’s eyes never left the commander’s, Jackson asked, “Am I to assume that when you call her a fairy, you are not referring to her sexual proclivities?”

“You may.”

“I see.”  Whatever the doctor had hoped to hear about the commander’s adventure – and he had been fairly certain the story would be incredible – he had not expected something quite so . . . fantastic.  True, Straker had somehow managed to survive an alien attack, a car wreck, and extremely serious injuries.  True, he had also somehow managed to return to HQ completely unmarked by his trials.  But the doctor had hoped for an explanation that at least made sense.

Straker said, “Perhaps it would make things easier if I gave her the title that she uses in reference to herself.”

Jackson’s brow raised.  “Which is?”

“She is a keeper of Gaia.”

Jackson blinked. A keeper of Gaia.  Now, that was a phrase he had heard before.  Somewhere. He wasn’t even certain he remembered the reference anymore.  He’d have to look it up to refresh his memory.  But if his recall was even close to being right, the keepers were female and had been compared to the valkyrie of Norse legend, mostly because they were both winged female creatures.  However, instead of worrying their heads over warriors as the valkyrie did, apparently keepers focused on protecting plants and animals.  As he met the commander’s calm stare, he wondered where Straker had heard of them – and why he would think including them in his tale would make it more believable?

“Commander . . .”

“I know what you’re going to say, Doctor, but hear me out.”  Straker sat forward in the chair and set his cup on the desk.  “It sounds crazy, I admit.  But it happened.  Do you have another explanation for how I could have survived that attempt on my life?”

“Yes, Commander.  Actually I do,” Jackson said unexpectedly.  “It may not be one you’d like to hear, though.”

Straker’s lips thinned.  “I see.  Occam’s razor and all that.  The simplest explanation is most likely the correct one.”

Jackson spread his hands.  “You know your science.”

“I know what happened!”  The commander visibly reined in his temper.  He’d known this wouldn’t be easy.  “Fine.  Say what you’re thinking is what occurred.  Say the aliens did get their hands on me.  Say they did patch me up.  Why?  Why would they want me strong enough to fight them?  And why would they send me back here where you would certainly figure out what they’d done?  It makes no sense.  In this case, Doctor, the simplest solution isn’t the logical one.”

Dr. Jackson’s brow raised sarcastically.  “And you’re saying that your story is?”

“I had a choice,” Straker said softly.  “I could tell my crazy story to Gen. Henderson, who knows me and trusts me – even when I sometimes sound lunatic.  Or I could tell you.”

Jackson’s head tilted slightly.  “Why did you choose me, Commander?”

With a sigh, Straker said, “Because I know the general as well as he knows me.  And I know how he’d respond to this information.”  He shook his head.  “That’s not a scenario I want to see enacted.  You, on the other hand, at least have an open mind.  Your solution to every problem isn’t to immediately blow it up.”

“I’m flattered.”

“I doubt it,” the commander said waspishly.  “However, given practically no choice in the matter, I chose you.  If you refuse to listen, I guess I’m stuck in quarantine for the next three months while you try to find some evidence of alien tampering in me.  But since your isolation chamber has already proven that I’m not under alien influence, you’ll be setting yourself a hard goal.”

“Perhaps,” the doctor replied, steepling his fingers under his chin.  “Or perhaps not.  If they did somehow tamper with you in the hopes of sending you back to SHADO to destroy it, there is the possibility that they have realized that their previous methods were being recognized and stopped by us.  In short, they may have tried something new.  Something we have no way to detect yet.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”  Straker’s temper snapped.  “You’d rather believe a story that farfetched than accept that I might actually have experienced something extraordinary?”  He crossed his arms and glared at the doctor.  “And I thought you were open-minded.”

“Commander, even you have to accept that it’s not such a farfetched scenario.  They have sent someone back to us before.”

“Don’t you bring up Craig!  Damn it, Jackson!  Don’t you dare!”

The doctor folded his hands on the desk, his calm a marked contrast to the commander’s heat.  “Commander, let’s face facts.  There could be a hundred explanations for what happened to you last night, many of them at least marginally plausible.  But because the situation ended with you in better health than when you left, I can’t help but be a little suspicious when all you give me is an absurd story of fairies.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” Straker muttered.  “How do you know it’s absurd?”

“Commander, be reasonable.”

Straker sighed.  The thing was, he did understand Jackson’s reservations.  Nyt’s intervention, while he was quite grateful for it, was bound to cause certain unfortunate repercussions once the commander returned to his own reality.  She’d only been trying to save his life.  It wasn’t her fault that she took healing seriously enough to remove all trace of any wound whatsoever.  Suddenly, the commander caught what Jackson had said.  He asked, “What do you mean, ‘better than when I left’?”

Dr. Jackson’s brow raised.  “You didn’t notice?”

“What?” Straker asked warily.

“You have no scars.”

The commander frowned.  “I know that.  I could tell when I took my shower that both the head wound and the leg wound were completely gone.  There wasn’t even a red mark to show where either area had been cut in the accident.”

Jackson shook his head.  “No, Commander.  You don’t understand.  You have no scars – at all.”

Straker gaped at him.

The doctor nodded, pleased that he finally comprehended.  “Your shoulder has no scar tissue from the bullet wound you received seven months ago.  Your back no longer bears the marks of the tissue damage you received when the minister’s car was bombed.  Even your appendix scar is missing.  Which makes me wonder: if we took x-rays, would we find your appendix back where it hasn’t been for over twenty-eight years?”

“I don’t . . . !”  The commander was flabbergasted.  “Gone?”

“Entirely.  In fact, if I hadn’t examined your body numerous times over the years, so that I know it well, I would think that you weren’t even the commander at all, but someone else put into his place.”

Chapter 3

Straker woke sometime during the night from dreams of a brightly lit meadow and the warmth of a fairy’s gentle touch and found himself blinking in the dim lighting of his cell.  He wondered momentarily what had awakened him, then saw her sitting at his side on the cot.

“Nyt?” he asked drowsily, unsure if he was still dreaming.  His hand came up to touch her cheek, trying to ascertain if she was really there, and she smiled softly.

“What is it that you do to me?” she whispered in her melodious voice, her ancient eyes on his face.

“What I do?” he asked in bewilderment.

She rubbed her cheek against his hand, reveling in the sensations that coursed throughout her body at his touch.  “You cause me to feel things that I cannot describe, in parts of me that I was not aware could feel.”

His breath caught as he began to understand her meaning.  “Nyt, I . . .”

She leaned closer.  “What is it?” she demanded.

“What do you feel?” he asked, stalling for time.  He would have loved a moment to gather his thoughts, but her nearness was scattering his senses.

Her pale grey eyes gleamed in the low light as she stared at his lips.  “I want to . . .”  She ran her tongue over her lips, which sparked its own reaction in him.  She met his eyes and murmured, “I want to touch your lips with mine.  It makes no sense.  Why can I not stop thinking of it?”

His lips parted as if she had, and he struggled for some semblance of control.  “A kiss,” he said, needing to say something – anything! – to stop his unruly thoughts.  “We call it a kiss.”

“Kiss,” she whispered, leaning closer still. 

He held his breath as she gently laid her lips on his.  Fires flared suddenly all over his body, but he kept himself still with an effort, his hands fisting at his sides.  She had no idea what she was doing, after all.

After a moment, she drew back slightly and met his eyes.  “Did you like it?” she asked softly, her soft breath fanning his face.

“Yes,” he said, unable to keep the huskiness out of his voice.

She grinned impishly.  “Again?”

He nearly groaned.  “Nyt . . . !”

She pressed her lips to his once more, firmly this time, and his hands came up of their own volition and ran through her hair, holding her closer as his mouth reacted to her boldness.  He kissed her back, seducing her into opening her mouth so that he could explore its depths.  She murmured something incoherent and pressed more closely to him, her body covering his where he lay on the cot.  He was on fire and wanted nothing more than to take this dream as far as it would go, but after a while he became aware that he might not still be asleep.  In which case, what he was doing was bound to lead to very shaky ground very quickly. 

He jerked away from her, sitting up on the cot and taking deep breaths to calm his riotous senses.  She looked at him in surprise, then doubt, but thankfully did not come any closer.  “Ed?” she asked him tentatively.

Straker shivered ecstatically at the sound of his name on her lips, wishing nothing more than to return to his dream.  But Nyt was not a dream.  She was here in his cell – and he had to somehow salvage the situation in a way that wouldn’t completely destroy the friendship they had forged.

“Nyt, we cannot . . . I cannot . . . it is not wisdom to pursue this!”

She frowned at him.  “What harm is there in it?  It is pleasurable to touch lips with you.  Why should we not?”

He sighed.  There – right there – was the reason, if she but knew it.  She might be ancient, but in the ways of human interpersonal relationships, she was completely innocent.  And he refused to be the one to educate her, to bring this majestic creature down to the human level.  But how to explain that to her?

“Because kissing, for all of its delightful aspects, is not an end goal in and of itself, Nyt,” he told her tersely.

Her head tilted slightly, her eyes searching his face for his meaning.  “Why not?” she asked.

He almost smiled.  If only passion could be that simple.  “Because it’s a preliminary.”

Her eyebrows raised at that.  “Really?  To what?”

“To more.”

More.  Her eyes widened as she thought of what he might mean.  While they had been kissing, she had found her body pressing against his in imitation of what their lips were doing.  It had been quite an unconscious move  – and very exciting.  New sensations had broken out wherever their bodies had touched, and she had found herself pressing against him again and again to feel more of them.  If that was what ‘more’ entailed, surely it was a desirable state?  But after a moment, she paused, considering this situation further in the light of her knowledge of human interactions.  She frowned.  “Do you mean animal congress?”

He almost scowled.  That hardly sounded flattering.  “I’m not sure.  What does that mean to you?”

She fluttered her hand in a vague gesture.  “Coupling.”

“I see.”  The commander had to fight the sudden desire to snap her head off for equating him with an animal. He’d stopped, hadn’t he, before things got out of hand?  He took a deep breath, then said, “I suppose that is what I’m saying, although humans generally consider themselves above animals in that respect.”

Nyt shrugged.  “It looks the same, whether between humans or between animals.  There is a distinction?”

“Yes.  A very important one.  We don’t couple by instinct alone, Nyt.  Emotional attachment is involved.  Feelings of love and tenderness.  The need to give and receive pleasure.  We’re not mindless animals.”

She sighed, her sensitive ears catching the sternness in his tone.  “I have offended you.”

He shook his head.  “It’s just that you don’t understand.  And that’s the heart of the matter, Nyt.  How could you possibly understand?  You’re a keeper, one of an entire race of fairies that have served Gaia since its formation.  Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“But there are no males among you.  Without men, there is no coupling.  Without coupling, there is no reproduction.  No children.  You remain eternally isolated that way, greater than the humans who share Gaia with you, but unaware of one of our most basic relationships and a fundamental purpose for our existence.”

She nodded sadly.  “I see.  And you are only interested in coupling with other humans, those who intrinsically understand your culture because they too are human.”  She stood up and met his eyes, her chin lifted proudly.  “Thank you for explaining the matter to me.  I shall not trouble you with my foolishness again.”

He reached for her.  “Nyt, that’s not what I meant at all!  Please, listen to me!”

She evaded his hand, her posture stiff with the need to suppress her hurt from his view.  She knew it was unfair to leave without hearing his explanations.  But she could not bear to remain, allowing him to see how much his rejection wounded her.  Courtesy warred with self-preservation, but there was no doubt which would win in the end.  With a swirl of her wings, she was gone.

And Straker slumped back against the wall, wishing like hell that he could redo the last fifteen minutes, so that he would have been awake and aware when she came.  If he hadn’t been dreaming of her, if he’d only realized sooner that he was awake, if only he’d explained himself better . . . but such recriminations couldn’t change what had occurred.  In the end, his human desire for her had undermined everything, and he’d made a mess of it.  Instead of nurturing her carefully through her first budding awareness of passion, he’d gotten caught up in it himself and fumbled, terrified of introducing her to sensations he had no business showing her.  Then, of course, the crowning moment when he’d tried to tell her why they shouldn’t pursue a physical relationship.  He winced in disgust.  Oh, yeah.  He’d done a masterful job of explaining himself – with the result that she would probably never speak to him again.   
   
Damn it all to hell!

Chapter 5

“I mean it, Paul.  Leave it alone!”

Col. Foster paced the HQ office with a scowl.  “Damn it, Alec!  You know as well as I do that Jackson’s only keeping him locked up out of spite!  You’re his best friend.  I can’t believe you’re protecting the bastard!  I’d have thought that you’d be leading the charge!”

Freeman sighed.  What he wouldn’t give to do just that!  “Ed said no, and that’s final.  As long as he’s willing to put up with Jackson’s highhandedness, who are we to say different?  He’s the commander.  His word is law.”

Foster’s scowl deepened.  “Why?  Why’s he putting up with it?  He hates Jackson as much as the rest of us.  Why would he let him push him around?”

The colonel had a pretty good idea why Ed was allowing Jackson to get away with his stubbornness.  He hoped to win the doctor over by virtue of patience.  He could hardly prove that he was still himself.  How did a man do that, after all?  The most he could hope for was that the doctor would finally give up trying to prove him otherwise.  Without any evidence to the contrary, he’d eventually have to accept that Ed hadn’t been tampered with and let him go.  But Alec wasn’t so sure that his friend and commander had the patience to sit around doing nothing until Jackson gave up the fight.  More than just about anything, Straker hated being idle.

“Don’t worry, Paul,” he said now.  “It won’t be for long.”

“How do you know?”  Foster came up to the desk eagerly.  “Is he planning something?  A jailbreak?”

Alec’s attention was suddenly diverted as the fairy appeared in the office.  He quickly turned back to Foster and shook his head.  “Look at it this way, Paul.  How long do you think Straker will let himself be kept from his desk?  Huh?”

Col. Foster thought about that for a minute.  A slow and decidedly wicked grin spread across his face.  He rocked back on his heels, considering.  Then he nodded briskly.  “Right.  Keep me informed, okay?  If he needs me, I’m his man.”

Alec was already opening the office door.  “I’ll let him know,” he said in dismissal.

He didn’t even glance over until the door slid closed once more.  Then he sat back and scowled, “What now?”

Nyt grinned at him.  She liked his gruff demeanor and found his bluster amusing.  She knew from watching their interactions over the years that he had a great regard for his friend and commander.  She would have prized him for that alone, but his sharp tongue added a certain spice to the acquaintance.

“Ed needs to speak to Col. Lake.”

Alec blinked at her for a minute.  “What?  You’re his messenger now?”

She smiled sweetly at him.  “I am pleased to do whatever he needs me to do.”

“Yeah, I can see that.  Damned fool can charm the birds out of the trees!”

She approached the desk.  “It’s those eyes,” she confided.  “He looks right inside you and sees you for who you really are.”

The colonel nodded and said gruffly, “Yeah, but it’s more than that.  He accepts you for who you are.  That’s the part that’s irresistible.”

Her smile widened in agreement.  “Will you send her to him?”

Freeman sighed.  “Yeah, of course I will.  What Ed wants, Ed gets.  I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

As she turned to leave, he said, “Nyt?  How’s he holding up?”

“He does what he can.  With Col. Lake’s help, perhaps he can do more.”

“Right.  Jackson won’t let me visit him again.  Would you tell him . . . ?  Tell him to let me know if he needs anything.”

She spoke softly.  “I will tell him.”  She was quite aware that he had changed his words at the last moment.  From the look on his face, he was too embarrassed to say what he truly felt.  She almost sighed as she left in a swirl of flickering light.  Humans could be so strange.

* * *
Straker didn’t sleep any more that night, but sat up on the cot and thought about what Nyt had told him.  Idly, he ran the strip of silk through his fingers as he considered the implications of what she’d said.  He glanced down occasionally at the shimmery fabric, marveling at its resilience.  He’d washed it yesterday in the small sink in the tiny lav attached to his cell, and all the blood stains had sluiced out of it as quickly as if they were fresh.  The silk had dried almost instantly afterward and now showed no signs that it had ever been used for anything.  There wasn’t any seam on the scrap, nor was there a hem, but the raw edges didn’t fray, and he had to wonder how the fabric manipulated itself around Nyt’s figure to create such a beautiful garment?  He’d love to look at it under a microscope, just to get some idea of its properties, but that wasn’t going to be possible for a while.  He sighed and closed his eyes.

He had far more worrisome things to think about than her clothing.

Time.  The aliens had attacked them using time before, and it took all his will not to cringe whenever he remembered the horror of those hours spent trying to undo the effects of their time freeze.  Nyt hadn’t mentioned that the aliens had tampered with time before, so he had to assume that she either didn’t know about it (which was rather unlikely) or the freeze hadn’t negatively affected the atmosphere, thereby causing Gaia concern.  The aliens had made a kind of bubble over the studio and HQ, giving them a confined space to freeze until they were able to destroy it.  Although he didn’t know how they’d accomplished the bubble, he was fairly sure that – whatever they’d done – they hadn’t ‘torn the air’ as they did this time.

It sounded oddly poetic the way Nyt described it; but nonetheless, the words had made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.  What manner of device could do such a thing?  And what degree of desperation had brought them to a place where they would even consider it an option?  They had to have known the damage it could do.  And from Nyt’s brief description, it sounded as though the tear would not heal on its own, and indeed, would only worsen if Gaia did nothing to stop it.   Why would anyone go to such lengths, creating havoc and destruction wherever they went?  Where was the logic in ignoring the consequences of their actions?  Didn’t they realize that they had to live here if they won? 

But it did no good trying to figure out their reasoning.  They’d tried stunts before that didn’t take into account the aftermath if they’d succeeded.  Hell, just two years ago SHADO had been forced into a sea battle with them in an effort to keep them from destroying a shipload of toxic gas that was scheduled for dumping.  That scenario had made even less sense than this one.  What could they possibly do with a planet permeated with poison gas?

He sighed and leaned back against the wall.  He was tired, but his mind refused to let him sleep.  However, it was useless to speculate on the aliens’ reasons for the stunts they pulled.  They rarely made sense in any way, shape, or form.  The commander was quite aware after all these years of fighting them that logic – human logic – simply wasn’t part of their way of thinking.

He wished he could spend the day picking Nyt’s brain.  She had knowledge that might help them handle this situation, and if they could only discuss it at length, they might be able to come up with a solution.  Her words about Gaia’s possible answer to this crisis may have been vague, but the tone had been resolute.  And although Straker wasn’t certain what course of action might require the normally serene fairy to show that degree of resolve, he was sure of one thing: it probably wasn’t something that Earth was going to enjoy.

* * *
When Col. Lake entered the detention cell in the morning, Straker calmly folded the length of silk and returned it to his pocket.  She would have liked to ask about it, but one look at his closed features told her to leave it alone.  Being a highly intelligent woman, she did so.

“Good morning, Commander,” she said, taking a seat on the wall bench at his gesture.

“Colonel,” he replied cordially.  “Thank you for coming.”

“How are you doing, sir?” she asked.  He looked well, a little rumpled from sleeping in his clothes perhaps.  But much better than he had when he’d first come into HQ after the accident, his suit bloody and torn.  “I was worried when we heard that you were being quarantined that Dr. Jackson wouldn’t allow your wounds to be tended.”

The commander shook his head.  “No.  Jackson wouldn’t do that.”  He spread his hands.  “As you can see, I’m fine.”

She almost spoke, but paused first to give him an inquiring look.

Interpreting it correctly, he said quietly, “Probably.  He’s a thorough man, is our Jackson.”  He’d been fairly certain from the beginning that the room was bugged, but could only hope that the dim lighting used in the cells at night concealed his conversations with an invisible companion.  He doubted very much if anyone ever saw a fairy without their express permission, but even if they could, if Jackson had seen Nyt, he’d no longer have a reason to deny her existence.  Other than pique, but Straker didn’t think the doctor was quite that petty.

“I see.”  Folding her hands in her lap, she said, “Alec said you wanted to see me.  What can I do for you, Commander?”

He sat forward.  “We know how the aliens managed to bypass our upgraded radar.  They somehow warped the space-time continuum to make a hole for them to slide through into our atmosphere.”

Virginia wanted to shudder at the concept of the aliens using time against them once more, but she suppressed it.  More than any other person, the commander was as aware of the heinousness of such a tactic as she was, and neither of them needed to dwell on the memory of it.  So instead, she turned her thoughts to the details.

“Alec said nothing about this to me.”

Straker shrugged.  “I haven’t had the chance to discuss it with him yet.”

“Oh.”  She blinked at him for a moment.  “Then, who –?  How did you –?”

“Colonel,” he said with a wry look.  “Do you truly doubt that, after all these years as commander, I have my own ways of gaining the information I need?”

“Well, no, sir.  But . . .”

“I asked you here because I need your assistance.  There is a great deal I can’t do while in quarantine that nonetheless needs to get done.  Will you help me?”

She held that gaze, unsure for a moment what was behind his request.  Could Jackson be right?  Had the aliens somehow gained control of the commander while he was out of contact with HQ?  But he seemed the same as ever.  Arrogant.  Demanding.  But with that whiff of charm added to the mix that made it impossible to say no to him.  Besides, no one knew better than she did how differently a person acted after the aliens had tampered with them.  Any charm they may have had was completely gone once they were under alien influence.  It was almost as if the aliens threw such emotions away, finding no use for them.

“Of course, sir,” she said, dropping her eyes.

“Thank you,” he said calmly, as if her compliance was a foregone conclusion.  But inside, he went weak, quite aware of how close he’d come to losing her allegiance altogether.  Damn Jackson and his caution!  The situation called for action, not holding back.  If he couldn’t find an answer that would help the keepers solve their problem, who knew how severe their solution would be?  Now he said, “The aliens had to have chosen their entry point carefully, so that they’d catch me on my way home from HQ.”

She frowned as she thought about it.  “They couldn’t have been there long or our ground radar would have picked them up.”

“Which means that they timed it precisely.”

“But, Commander!”  Her eyes widened at the thought.  “If that’s so, then it means that we have a traitor here at HQ!  Someone who told them when you left.  Because you never leave HQ at the same time every day!”

His tone was grim.  “I know, Colonel.  And trust me, the last thing I want to consider is another traitor in our midst.  But it’s the only scenario that fits the facts.  They had to know when I left the studio.  And there’s only one way they would find that out.”

“Could they have bugged your car with some kind of indicator?”  At his surprised frown, she shrugged.  “I know you do routine sweeps for bugs, but maybe this kind only activates once the car is in motion.  That way they could track you right to the point they wanted you on the road.”

“It sounds plausible,” he agreed.  “Make sure the car is carefully searched for any devices, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.”

“Yes, sir.”

He sighed.  “We can only hope – if the car was bugged with a tracking device – that they didn’t install it near the front end or the odds of us finding it in one piece drop sharply.”

She grimaced, remembering the way the car had looked when they brought it in.  The entire front end of the car had been crushed.  It was a wonder that the commander had even survived impact.  “I’ll get right on it.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”  She sounded so eager to believe that a bug was responsible rather than a person that Straker didn’t have the heart to discourage her.  Besides, she was quick.  Sooner or later, she’d realize that the bug – if there was one – had to have been planted on his car by someone.

“Was that all, sir?”

“No.  We need to figure out how to find and plug the hole their stunt ripped in the atmosphere.”

She stared at him in stunned silence.  How in the hell were they going to be able to do that?  But she knew better than to say that out loud.  Instead, after a moment she asked much more mildly, “Do you by any chance have an idea how we can do that, sir?”

“I have a few theories, Colonel.  What I need is some hard evidence of what took place when they tore the air.”

“Tore the air?”

He bit back a sharp comment at her skeptical question.  Damn it, he didn’t have a clearer way to describe it!  “That’s what they did, Colonel,” he said firmly.  “Our job is to find out how so that we can seal it closed.  Otherwise, they may decide to use it again.”

“I understand the need to do something, sir,” she began, trying to find the words to tell him that what he was asking was impossible.  Once more, she wondered if he had survived the alien attack unscathed?  It wasn’t like him to use phrases that sounded so unscientific in nature.

“Good,” he said promptly, not allowing her to finish her train of thought.  “Take a team out to the site of the crash and check out the environment.  Monitor everything.  Once you have some tangible readings, bring them to R&D.  I want all plausible solutions to the problem thoroughly researched and a plan of action to implement as soon as possible.  Understood?”

She gaped at him. 

He merely raised a brow.

“Sir!” she said finally, trying and failing to keep all sarcasm out of her voice.  “What do you propose we monitor?  We don’t have advanced enough equipment to even find a temporal anomaly, let alone study it!”

“I am aware, Colonel,” he said calmly.  “But whatever they did when they tore time, it caused a massive disturbance in our atmosphere.  We may not be able to see it, but there has to be some evidence that it’s there.  Think about it for a minute.  If something of that magnitude took place, there will be disruptions all over the spectrum.  Barometer pressure.  Ozone depletion.  Water/air molecule ratio anomalies.  Something that will supply us with hard data.  Find it.  Map it.  Then get me a solution.”

“Yes, sir,” she said as she stood, her mind reeling.  She understood what he was trying to do, but it was like assembling a puzzle without any pieces.  It could be done, she supposed.  But the result wouldn’t be very tangible. 

He smiled slightly at her.  “Thank you, Colonel.  I know I can leave this problem in your capable hands.”

She was terrified at the very thought of putting herself anywhere near a temporal anomaly.  Once had been quite enough for her, thank you very much.  But she was also quite aware that, if he were free to do so, the commander would have already been back out there himself to check it out. And she couldn’t be a coward if he refused to be one.  She drew herself up and said, “Yes, sir.”

Epilogue

Late that night, Straker was reading reports at his HQ desk when he felt a sudden presence in his office and looked up.  Nyt stood nearby, her head tilted slightly to the side as she regarded him.  She was smiling.  An answering smile came into his eyes.

“It is good to see you at your desk,” she said after a moment.

“It’s good to be at my desk,” he agreed, setting the report aside and standing up.  “I’d like to show you something.”

“Yes?” she asked, coming closer.

He gestured to the conference table, where he had laid out the map drawn up by Col. Lake’s team that afternoon.  “We were able to map the probable affected space of the tear, at least at the ground level.  I wondered if you would look it over and let us know how close our readings are to yours.”

Nyt leaned close and perused the map for several moments.  “This is very close to the dimensions of the tear earlier today.”

“Is it larger or smaller now?” he asked.

“Smaller.”  She drew a finger just slightly inside the shaded area, marking the new circle.  “But not by much, as you can see.  It takes a long time to correct each molecule of air to return it to a more natural state.”

“Is it possible to do a lot of air molecules at once?  What do you use as a trigger to effect the change?”

“Water.  The water molecule stabilizes those in distress from the tear, allowing the air to heal.  And before you ask, no, it is not a good idea to bring rain to bear on the affected area.  The air surrounding the tear is already heavily charged with electricity.  A rainstorm would only acerbate the problem instead of assisting in the healing.”

He thought for a minute.  “What about a pond?”

Nyt frowned at him.  “You mean, create a pond below the tear?”

“Yes.  We could do it for you, but I’m not sure the ground would welcome our bulldozers.  However, it would be the least we could do to help out.  Would a stationary body of water beneath the tear speed up the healing process?”

She stared at him in wonder for several moments.  Finally she said, “Why did we never think of something so simple?”  She ran a slender hand through her blonde curls as she considered the possibilities.  “It would change the dynamics of the area, affecting all lifeforms in the vicinity.  But it might not be a bad change, since it would introduce a favorable element: a new water source.  And of course, having the tear healed could only be a good thing for the creatures that dwell there.”  She nodded to herself, then looked at him once more.  “I will present the idea to the Council.  If they decide it has merit, we may be able to repair the damage much more quickly than has ever been done before.  You are a great help to us, Ed.  Your value only seems to increase the longer we know you.”

“Nyt,” he said quietly.  “What would happen if the tear couldn’t be repaired?”

She looked somber for a moment.  “Does it matter?” she hedged.  “I believe the tear can be healed this time.  Where is the concern?”

“The concern was in your eyes,” he said.  “When you spoke of Gaia not allowing such a thing to happen again.”

“Oh.  That.”  She looked away, her fingers fiddling with a corner of the map in a distracted manner.

“Nyt?”

Reluctantly she met his eyes.  “What is in your mind, Ed?  You have some notion of what you ask, don’t you?”

He nodded.  “I’ve studied certain aspects of geology extensively.  Since I’ve met you, I’ve had to rethink some scenarios I learned about through the years.”

“Such as?”

“Global flooding.  Ice ages.  Natural catastrophes on a massive scale.”

She spread her hands.  “You must understand.  Gaia only does such things as a last resort.  It seldom is necessary to take such drastic steps to bring life back into balance.”

“But you’ve had to do it before.”

She nodded.

“And you thought this crisis might be a similar situation?”

She shrugged.  “It was a concern.  Time is not an element easily messed with without terrible consequences.  Gaia has never understood some peoples’ need to tinker with what should be left alone.”

The commander stared at her in silence for a long time.  Then he said quietly, “It would be interesting to know the circumstances of those calamities sometime.  Gaia’s version of the facts.”

She smiled tentatively at him.  “Such things intrigue you?”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps sometime I shall speak of it again.”

“I would like that.”  He took her hands before she could turn to leave.  “Nyt?  Will you let me know what the Council decides?”

She gave him a warm smile.  “Yes, Ed.”

“Thank you.”

She squeezed his fingers.  “Ed?”

“Yes?”

“May I touch lips with you before I go?”

He grinned and drew her closer.  “By all means.”