Red Death, Page 2

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  He awoke in a red room. The walls, the ceiling, the floor – all fire engine red. The hard bed he found himself lying on was also red.

  His clothes were gone, replaced by a red thing that covered him from neck to toes. It was shiny and tight, like a rubber glove that had been sprayed on.

  He looked around at the empty room. He could see fine, but couldn’t tell where the light was coming from.

  He reached up and felt his face. The beard was still there, and his head hair was several inches longer than normal.

  As he thought the question, a voice in his head answered it.

  You are aboard our vessel.

  Okay, that was weird. Jim was about to speak another question, but once again, the answer came as a voice in his head.

  We are of the Yoo-Mynh Enclave.

  The voice sounded like a man. But it was soft, airy, with a slight metallic edge to it. It was right in the middle of his head, like a good stereo headphone mix. It seemed to have a slight Asian-sounding accent.

  Jim started to form another thought, but was cut off by the voice.

  All will be explained.

  Without thinking about it, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the red bed. He stood and headed toward the wall. He didn’t seem to be moving under his own power, though he was not being moved against his will. He just felt like he was riding a bus to somewhere he wanted to go, though he couldn’t remember where it was he was going.

  As he got within a few inches of the red wall, it disappeared and he walked on through.

  Beyond the wall, a large silent room. More like a shopping mall, with multiple levels, balconies, stairs, corridors, and elevators. Just no stores.

  And everything was red.

  Jim walked along, looking around like a tourist. He couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t scared.

  He entered an elevator that took him down two floors, where he stepped out to a group of about fifteen people, all wearing the same skin-tight shiny red rubber outfit, and all wearing the same expression – peaceful, yet bewildered. H
e imagined he looked the same.

  The people came in all shapes and sizes – all were about twenty to forty years old. All the men had beards and shaggy hair like his own.

  The voice entered Jim’s mind, and he could tell from the look on the others’ faces, it permeated all their minds.

  You are chosen because you are compatible.

  Jim heard his own question in his mind, and it sounded like a chorus, mingled with the same question asked by everyone else like an echo.

  “Compatible with what?”

  Our form of travel.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  You are safe. You will understand when we arrive.

  “Arrive where?”

  Home.

  “When?”

  Now.

  Suddenly, the red walls surrounding them disappeared, revealing a green, sunny landscape. Soft, trimmed lawns rolled away in all directions until they reached forested foothills and then snow-capped mountains. The sky was dotted with puffy white clouds, and the air smelled like springtime flowers.

  It seemed like a perfect paradise. But something was not right.

  No birds – no bugs – no sound at all.

  And no wind.

  The sun overhead gave off no warmth.

  “What is this? Where are we?”

  We have traveled approximately six hundred trillion light years. This is home.

  “Maybe for you. But this isn’t my home. Why have you done this?”

  Jim heard all the other voices – his fellow captives – all in agreement. Yet, none spoke: all the voices were in his head. They just stood there in their strange red paintjobs staring at each other in wonder or looking around to try to figure out where the alien voice was coming from.

  Earth gone.

  “What? Where did it go?”

  Earth will be gone. Earth is not yet. Time is different for you.

  Jim pondered. It made no sense. He’d watched a lot of sci-fi, but this was just too bizarre. He decided to try to talk to the others, since these aliens or whatever spoke in riddles.

  He made eye contact with a ginger-haired woman of about thirty. She looked pretty good in her red paint suit.

  “Where are you from?”

  “I – I was just sitting on the back porch, watching the night sky. Then there was the light.”

  “I know, I saw the same thing,” said Jim. “But where are you from?”

  “Oh – um, I’m from Santaquin, Utah. Well, near there, anyway.”

  Jim had a thought, and asked, “When are you from – I mean, what’s the date?”

  She looked perplexed. “July 9th, 1964, of course. Why – what do you think the date is?”

  Jim blinked. “Huh. Well, for me, it’s August 12th, 2013.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “You tell me – you’re the one speaking telepathically with a man wearing red rubber paint on a fake planet a gazillion miles from Earth.”

  The girl smiled. Then actually laughed. “My name’s Anna.”

  “I’m Jim. Jim O’Connell. I’m from Oregon. I was camping with my buddy. He died when they tried to take him. I guess he wasn’t ‘compatible.’”

  “Why do you think they did this? And who are they? What are we gonna do?” the questions came from Anna’s mind like a machine gun.

  “I wish I knew,” said Jim. “I think we need to organize ourselves if we’re going to make it through this.”

  He looked around at the rest of the people. A handful had dispersed – cautiously exploring the environment. Others were starting to form small groups or pair off. A couple of them seemed dazed – standing and staring into space. Another sat on the ground and wept quietly. None of them spoke – no doubt communicating the same way Jim was with Anna – directly through the mind.

  “Well,” said Anna with her mind, “I nominate you.”

  “For what?”

  “To organize us – to lead us.”

  “You don’t know me very well. I’m a born follower.”

  “Everyone changes,” said Anna. “I mean, I bet you’ve never worn red rubber paint before, or hung out on a distant world trading thoughts with a pretty woman.” She smiled at him.

  Jim smiled back. “No – nope – I haven’t. I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

  As if telepathy were second nature, Jim “called out” to the group by directing his thoughts at them all. It surprised him how easy it was. “Everyone – gather round – let’s discuss our situation.”

  Everyone looked toward him. Some seemed relieved, others stared blankly, a couple appeared resentful for some reason.

  “We are all here against our will,” Jim said. “We need to get some straight answers if we want to get back to our homes. We need to come together and figure this out.”

  “Who made you the boss?” The thought came from a burly young black man. His beard was long and his hair had grown into a large afro. “Why should we trust you?”

  “I’m not the boss,” said Jim.

  “I nominated him to take charge,” said Anna. “Before you go all ‘Lord of the Flies’ on us, just hear him out.”

  Half the people understood the reference, half just looked quizzically at Anna. Jim suspected the confused half lived in time periods from before the publication of “Lord of the Flies.”

  “Look,” he said. “I know we’re all scared and confused. I’m not trying to make it worse – I just think we may be able to learn something about our situation if we all share some stuff about ourselves – maybe we all have something in common that can explain why we’re here. Maybe we can pool our ideas to figure out how to get home. That’s all.”

  The big black man softened. “All right, man. That’s cool. I’ll start. My name’s Austin. I’m from Detroit.”

  “Thanks, Austin,” said Jim. “Can you tell me what year it is?”

  “Huh?”

  “The year. On what date were you abducted?”

  “Uh, it’s April 27, 1975.”

  “Interesting,” said Jim. “For me, it’s 2013, and for Anna, it’s 1964. What about everyone else?”

  An onslaught of answers, like a crowd yelling, hit Jim’s mind. However, unlike a crowd, he was able to distinguish all the different answers and comprehend them.

  1922. 2001. 1936. 1996. 1985. 1944. 1887. 1999. 1913. 2008. 1971. 2022.

  “Okay, okay,” Jim said. “It seems that the time we come from is not something we have in common. We range from 1887 to 2022. Where are you all from?”

  Another wave of answers rocked his brain. Only two people shared the same place of origin.

  “Okay. So, we’re from all over the United States, some parts of Europe, Australia, and a bunch of other places.”

  Oddly, he comprehended even the foreign place names, even if he wasn’t sure exactly where they were.

  “Well, were you taken at night or in the day?”

  The unanimous answer came, “At night.”

  “Were you alone, or with someone?”

  Some were alone, others with someone. Only two people came together – the rest reported their companions being killed at the time they were abducted.

  “You two,” said Jim to the couple who arrived together. “Tell me about yourselves.” It occurred to Jim that it may be easier to figure out what these two had in common than what all the others had in common. “Why do you think the two of you were brought together?”

  The man answered. His telepathic voice had a French accent. “Well, Nicole and I are twins. I am Eduard. I am her older brother. By five minutes.”

  “Must be your very similar physiology – something in your DNA, perhaps,” said Jim.

  “What are you, some kinda doctor or something?” asked Austin.

  “Actually, yes,” said Jim. “I’m a podiatrist.”

  “A foot doctor, right?” asked Anna.

  “Right,” said Jim. “I fix feet. Had to go to medical school for that. Of course, I haven’t practiced in about two years.”

  “This is all great,” said Austin, “but we’re not any closer to understanding how to get outta here and get home.”

  “Well, we are, because it’s a reasonable assumption that there’s something about our DNA – all of us – that is the reason we were all chosen. Unfortunately, since I don’t have any tools or any way to test our DNA, we’re kind of at a dead end with that theory.”

  “Besides, who cares why they chose us? What matters is getting home,” said Austin.

  “I know that,” said Jim, “but if we can understand why we’re here, it may help us figure out a way back. At this point, the only thing we have is our own knowledge – information is our only tool.”

  “Why don’t we ask for more information?” asked Anna. “These aliens – maybe we could just ask them more questions?”

  “You heard them,” said Austin, “they don’t make no sense.”

  “Maybe we just aren’t asking the right questions,” said Jim.

  “We’ve asked them some pretty direct questions,” said Anna. “What if we try some more indirect questions?”

  Jim directed his thoughts at the nebulous alien presence he knew was still there somewhere.

  “Uh – why, why are we all wearing red?”

  So we can see you.

  “What do you want us to do now?”

  Live.

  Okay, that one didn’t work. Jim tried a less direct approach.

  “Where are you?”

  Here.

  “Let me try,” said Anna, seeing Jim wasn’t making much headway. She directed her thoughts to the aliens. “What are you feeling?”

  8oklpm

  Everyone winced at the same time, then gave each other puzzled looks.

  “What in the name of –” said Austin.

  “Okay, that was weird,” said Jim. “I thought they spoke our language, but that – that was just – I don’t know what that was.”

  Anna persisted. “Do you care how we feel?”

  Yes.

  “Does it bother you that we are scared – that we want to understand – that we want to go home?”

  Yes.

  “Then do something about it.”

  Anna suddenly winked out of existence.

  “Anna!” Jim called out. “Anna!”

  “Those sons of –” Austin seethed.

  A moment later, she reappeared. She looked different.

  Her face was aglow. Her eyes shone like sapphires. She had a strange look of serenity on her face.

  And she floated about two feet off the ground.

  “All.”

  Everyone turned to her.

  “I have been changed. They have changed me so that I can communicate – so that they can communicate better with you. With us.”

  “So – what is the answer?” asked Jim. “How do we get home?”

  “The Yoo-Mynh Enclave says home as we know it does not exist. We are in a zone outside time as we understand it. In other words, you can’t get there from here.”

  “That don’t make no sense, woman!” said Austin. “I thought you were supposed to be able to communicate with us?”

  “Wait, wait,” said Jim, sitting down on a rock. “So, are you saying that we’re stuck here, Anna?”

  “This is home.”

  “How – how can this be home?” asked Jim.

  “The Yoo-Mynh will care for us. They will feed us, shelter us, and expect us to reproduce.”

  “And they’re watching us? What is this, a zoo? Are we specimens in a zoo?” asked Jim.

  “An apt metaphor,” said Anna after a pause. “The Yoo-Mynh were once like us. From our perspective, they are us, fifty trillion years in the future.”

  “And we’re just an exhibit? Prehistoric man in his natural habitat?” asked Jim.

  “We were taken that they may be,” said Anna.

  “Huh?” asked Austin.

  “That the Yoo-Mynh may exist, we have been taken from Earth – before its destruction. We will be the Yoo-Mynh.”

  “But if we exist – here – outside time,” said Jim, “then Earth still exists – for each of us – in our own time. Its eventual destruction doesn’t matter to us. We just want to go back to our own times.”

  Anna closed her eyes and was silent for a full minute, still as a statue. Then she spoke, her eyes still closed. “The Enclave may have erred. You may not be the ones we seek. We have tried before, and we will try again. All attempts are as one to us.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Austin.

  “You will be returned. Each to your own time. You may experience some – consequences – but you will live.”

  Everyone smiled and looked relieved. Anna floated down to the grass and the glow left her.

  “That was a very strange experience,” she said. “It was like my mind was – bonded somehow – to the Yoo-Mynh. Wow.”

  The fake world around them suddenly disappeared, replaced by the red walls. Before they could speak words of farewell, each of the abducted humans passed out.