24

GOD OF WAR

I remember well the encroaching dusk of that long Sunday. As usual I was sat in my study racking my brain for some semblance of a plot for the next novel. I had it in mind to write a fantastical whimsy but nothing would come, not so much the germ of an idea and there was I, one of England’s foremost novelists or so I told myself.

Then upon my front door came the most thunderous knocking like an angry devil hungry for my soul, fierce and persistent it drilled into my tired mind and drove away any hopes of writing a decent line. At first I thought my housekeeper would answer it, but as the racket continued I realised she was away tending to a heavily pregnant sister. There was nothing for it but to abandon my meditation and return to the mundane world. Ha, if only I had known what lay ahead.

My good friend the Jewish businessman Jacob Marx stood on my step with cheeks like sour cheese and trembling fists, his whole aspect was that of a man clutched by a tumult of fear. Before I could ask what ailed him, he implored me to leave my house and walk with him onto the common.

“You must come and see it George, it is an amazing sight and lights up the common for miles around I’m surprised you haven’t seen it from your upstairs windows.”

Locked away in my study for hours I hadn’t been up the stairs all day. “Jacob old friend I’m busy, can’t this wait?”

No his eyes told me it can’t, “It is an astounding mystery, just the sort of thing that would appeal to a novelist. Oh quickly George before it stops.”

As Jacob was a good and trusted colleague, and it was a warm night conducive to exercise I buttoned my waistcoat grabbed a stick and followed. Perhaps a brisk stroll on the common would clear my head enough for new ideas to flow, and who knew perhaps there was a mystery to see. Jacob wasn’t the nervous fanciful type far from it, as a hard-headed accountant he didn’t read any fiction apart from mine or so he told me.

We had not gone many yards when my eyes did indeed behold an extraordinary ambience over the common, a livid orange corona of a type I had never before seen. It certainly wasn’t the setting sun, as on this drab day it had barely peaked out from behind thick clouds. No this light was emanating from the ground, from a point beyond Horsell Wood and it had an artificial quality like a cluster of gas lamps only stronger still. It certain wasn’t a fire as flames leapt and twisted in the wind, and they produced a noxious smoke. With this glow there was no movement and no smoke, nor was there that sickening odour in the air of roasting timber.

Jacob had been right this was a queer thing and slightly unnerving, and as we reached the common I was struck by how deathly quiet it was as if every bird and squirrel had fled; there wasn’t so much as a tom cat.

“So what do you think?” My friend asked me as though I had clairvoyant powers. Would that I had, but I am a mere mortal man.

“I’m not sure,” I confessed. “It’s a strange light to be sure, and there’s nothing in the wood that could produce such an effect. It’s a bit like phosphor or magnesium, but the wrong colour.”

He nodded and forced a smile, “Shall we go closer?”

He already knew the answer to this, how could I resist? Yet as we progressed I became aware of two things, firstly a growing feeling within myself that we were being observed in some way by those we ourselves couldn’t see which on the surface was quite silly. And a low sound coming from the wood that I can only describe as a kind of musical note although not produced by an instrument that I am familiar with and my wife is a concert pianist it was not made by a piano or a flute yet had the qualities of both.

It was obvious that Jacob could perceive it to as several times I saw him touch his ears, as if to clear them of some internal ring.

“There is a noise,” I said to solicit a response.

“Aye there is, and there can be no doubt as to the source.”

The strange glow, as if glow and noise were related. The nearer we got to both the greater my feeling that I was being watched, that the two of us were not alone on this night. I had walked the common many times alone and with my dog, and I had never felt so out of place as though I didn’t belong here tonight, I was intruding in some way in matters that didn’t concern me.

There from behind a bush came a darting movement, it was so fast that I almost missed it but stopping and gripping my friend’s coat I pointed. He saw it to, something large moving with the rapidity of an infantryman. It could have been an animal but I doubted it, as there were no beasts of any kind here tonight. Plus my impression was of something upright like a man with dark skin or dark clothes, the silhouette topped by a bulbous, bald head possessing only one feature, a pair of strange turquoise eyes of a large, slanted nature.

“Who is the fellow?” Jacob cried taking out a small pistol I knew to be a Remington, it was the sort of weapon a gentleman carried for self-defence and very necessary in certain areas of London.

“Easy,” I said. “It could be some harmless vagrant.”

Such people often slept out here although not usually in autumn, and my impression had been of something entirely different – not man or animal but creature.

“He’s moving away from us,” Jacob said following the motion as best he could with the pistol. No I thought he’s moving across our line of vision but not gaining distance. Stopping at an oak the creature peered at us with only one visible eye, its colour so unearthly that I clutched my chest.

“Are you armed George?”

I never carried a gun, as my beliefs now were very anti-violence. If humanity couldn’t rise above war and cruelty, what hope was there?

“No I’m not, and I don’t thing this chap is armed either.” Surely if he had been and meant us ill he would have opened fire. “He’s just watching us, observing our actions like a scout.”

“George, tell me what you see, for surely my eyes deceive me?”

“A tall, slim, dark figure with large, slanted eyes. I can make out no other details and these alone are queer.”

“A foreigner?” Jacob gasped, if so I had never seen the like in my life and I was well travelled across both Africa and the Indies. Certainly this creature was not from our land or any I was familiar with.

“Let us proceed,” I said taking a step. J followed but did not put his weapon away, seeming to draw comfort from it like a soldier on patrol. As we merged with the trees I lost sight of turquoise eyes, but the musical note in the air changed gaining in stridency as though whatever produced it was aware of us and not happy about the fact.

“It’s getting hotter,” J had opened his collar I noticed, and he was right. Despite the falling of night the temperature had increased by degrees making me perspire.

“The heat is coming from the orange light,” I said.

“Do you think the wood is on fire?”

If so we would be choking on dark brown vapour by now and we weren’t, further more the warmth wasn’t the inferno you get from a forest fire. “Can you hear the cracking of flames, or smell burning? No neither can I, this is a different kind of warmth more like a radiation.”

He looked at me askance, as if thinking me fanciful. Well I was a writer with a keen imagination, why else had he chosen me as his nocturnal companion?

“George, do you think we are in any danger?”

An odd thing to ask me now, it would have been better considered at the house over a good port.

“From what, nothing we’ve encountered so far has been hostile merely strange.” I included turquoise eyes in this estimation, he was watching us but taking no overt action I would construe as violent.

As I came to a clearing though my beliefs took a bit of a knock, ahead of us was a round lake I had never before seen. No such lake had existed on the common in the 25 years I had walked it, the nearest body of water was the river Fleet some miles to the east. This lake sat in a perfect circle, so perfect it couldn’t be natural. The crater was roughly a mile in diameter and it looked deep, it was ringed by a series of orange globes that at first I thought were hung from trees until I realised that they weren’t touching any trees that in fact they were just hovering in the air at a height of twenty feet.

Each globe was twice the span of a horse’s head, and the light given off by each was uniform in its brilliance. I counted a good forty of them going all around the lake, and serving no other purpose than to illuminate it but why? “Moses protect us,” Jacob mouthed. “What manner of sorcery is this?”

“Stay rational,” I beseeched him. “This is science we’re seeing.”

“Is it, can you explain it?”

He had me there for I was at a loss despite my university education and my love of books; this was no science I was familiar with. Nothing could defy gravity or produce light without gas or flame.

Movement to our left made us spin that way like two nervous children, this time it was not the rapid dash of turquoise eyes but the slow, stately stride of a taller, heavier set being who wore what I can only describe as something resembling a deep-sea diving suit minus the helmet. A bright silver colour, this suit was more lightweight and tapered to hug the body. Its constitution was both flimsy and strong, and I could not guess as to what material it was made of.

Yet its occupant drove all theories from my mind by his unutterable strangeness. This was no foreigner but something vastly more bizarre and inhuman. Man-like in shape his skin had a rough bluish grey texture more akin to that of a month-old corpse than anything alive. Utterly devoid of hair or ears, he had two large lemur-like eyes that stared unblinkingly at us, there was no hint of a nose and the long lipless mouth was down turned like that of a fish. I saw no hint of cheekbones, but the high forehead was cerebral in the extreme as though it belonged to one of great intelligence.

As tall as us the entity had about him a field of electrical potential that made our skins tingle, and so weird and unearthly was he that J raised his gun and fired without thinking.

“No,” I knocked the gun aside too late but its bullet had no effect on the alien, either he was immune to such projectiles or it had been deflected away from him perhaps by his personal field. He did, however, come to a stop at the sound and flash - but still the eyes did not blink nor the expression alter in any way.

Then he raised his right hand and in it I perceived a lamp-like device that gave off no light, and from this came a series of pulsing notes of a type I was not familiar with. It wasn’t Morse code, but there was a definite pattern to the sounds.

“He’s going to kill us!” Jacob cried and gripped by panic he fled back the way he had come imploring me to run for my life. Whilst I retreated I did not run, instead I raised my hands.

“We mean you no harm,” I said. “I am a writer and philosopher.”

The pulsing notes ceased and the next thing to come from the lamp was my own voice repeating the words I had just spoken, as though the device had recorded them. Looking down for a moment the alien nodded his head twice, then regarded me and in my head came another voice unmistakably his.

“We are not of your world.”

At that I to ran, driven by the horses of terror and disbelief. Dear God in heaven, the voice I’d heard had been mental and it had confirmed my worst dread. These things were not of our world.

Try as I may I could not match the speed of my friend as I wasn’t used to running, and very soon a stitch hit me under the ribs of such viciousness that I had to stop and sag against a tree to get my breath. My throat and chest were raw, and in my skull was an odd dizziness that followed the telepathic voice as though it had drilled a hole in my consciousness that would never heal.

If not of our world then what world I wondered, hell itself or some nebulous in between dimension? What were such creatures doing on the common, and why had they created their own lake?

A rustle close by made me sink to my knees, was it J had he come back for me? But no as a bush parted I made out two bluish green slanted eyes peering back at me from a totally black face. He was in his way even stranger than the lemur, even less human as he had no mouth or features he was just a void wiped clean of colour save for those eyes, and they weren’t proper eyes with pupil or cornea just gaps.

“Please have mercy,” I croaked. “I’ll leave if you want.”

Raising his left hand he revealed the fact that he to held one of the strange lamps, and from it my words played back at me

They were trying to understand my language I realised, or perhaps the kind of person I was. Hoping the impression given was favourable I remained rooted in place, and soon felt the mind of turquoise inside my own head.

“You will learn nothing here,” it said and he extended his free hand, which clearly I was meant to take. Fear paralysed my muscles preventing any response.

“Perhaps you do not wish to learn, or grow.”

It wasn’t a condemnation but I could feel his sadness, he was disappointed in me and made me disappointed in myself. There I was the author of fantastical romances cringing like a whipped dog, unable to move or speak.

Pulling myself together I made myself stand up, and then with a mighty effort I reached out to clasp the black hand. Electricity jumped into me at once like a charge, and with a cry I let go.

“You will not be harmed,” the mind said. “My power field has been turned down low.”

“I was just surprised that’s all,” when I took his hand again there was no surge of power. Like a parent with a child he led me back to the lake, and the suited lemur was waiting for us. Oddly he didn’t seem so forbidding now, as if a layer of mindless panic had dropped from my mind like a heavy sheet. As turquoise let go of my hand, lemur waved for me to follow him and he approached the lake.

“I cannot swim,” said I. “I have a phobia of water.” As a boy I’d almost drowned in the public baths, and since then had avoided any body of water.

“You will not drown,” lemur’s mind said. “This is not water.”

And as he stepped onto the lake he began to rise not sink, literally floating into the air as though transported on something I couldn’t see. Encouraged I to place a foot over the water and felt not water but a solid step, there were stairs present that I could not see and they held my weight easily.

“What is this?” I asked, “An invisible staircase to heaven?”

“To our ship,” he said. “It is cloaked and cannot be viewed by outsiders.”

A ship, there was a boat present on the common?

“You have a galleon?”

“Our ship travels through time and space not over the ocean.”

And the next instant we were inside it, within a chamber made of different coloured metals and illuminated by hovering lamps smaller than the ones outside. The chamber had doorways leading off from it, but no doors or locks as if these people had no fear of thieves and no need for privacy.

“I shall hand you over now to our captain.”

A woman appeared from one doorway, I call her a woman in fact she was an exotic beauty. Extremely tall she towered over us with the finest figure I had ever seen, hugged by a close fitting one piece outfit unlike any I’d witnessed in any fashion shop. It was shinny and extremely flexible, sort of wet looking yet dry and highly provocative, as it hid none of her womanly curves.

Possessing purple hair, yes that’s right I said purple, she had a strongly defined face that was youthful but also radiated the wisdom of years. Her eyes were bigger than normal and somewhat slanted, as was the norm for these beings presumably. She had rings in both ears and wore them on every finger, although I felt they served some purpose beyond mere jewellery.

“Ooolah,” the lemur sang at the woman.

“Ooolah,” she replied in a lilting voice and unlike him she spoke with her lips, the first of these people to do so. As he turned and left the invisible ship of time, the woman smiled at me. “Ooolah,” she said. “It is our greeting and wishes you well.”

“Good day to you madam,” I said with stiff British reserve. I did not know if she was married or not and so couldn’t use her proper title, had lemur called her the captain?

“Do I take it that I am your prisoner? I am a subject of the British Empire, I assume you’ve heard of it and we expect certain conditions to be observed.”

Smiling broadly she reached out and caressed my cheek in such a sensual way that I blushed, even my wife of twenty years did not behave thus.

“We have no need of prisoners,” she said. “You are my guest and will be treated with great care and attention, please note there are no locks, bars or guards.”

She was right I did not feel restricted except by my own fear and rather conventional behaviour, no doubt my father would have been proud. A straight back and a stiff upper lip is all an English gentleman needs to assert himself, papa had often told me.

“Come this way,” she said and took us through a different doorway to the one she’d previously used. A short passage led to a wide circular room that seemed to be made of glass; certainly I could see through the floor and ceiling as easily as the walls. But what I could see was astounding yes the common was visible but in greater detail than I’d ever imagined it.

When I focused on a blade of grass it came into sharp relief with every cell and molecule visible, the same for a leaf or a tree or a droplet of water. I could even see the germs within the water, and atoms within the germs. Down below me the earth was exposed as layer after layer of soil, rock and clay and deep below I could even spy the fiery, molten core of the planet and this to jumped into sharp focus if I peered at it for long enough, turning into a blazing sun with all of its elements and gases exposed. Up above where the stars, but this time they were not the distant pinpricks a man had to squint at. Each system magnified under ones gaze to reveal the type, colour and age of its star. How many planets orbited that star, and whether life teemed on the surface which I have to say it did on many of them?

“This is a place of wonders,” I cried. “It’s as though I can view all of creation here, I have a god’s eye view of the universe. What manner of substance is it made of, and how can distant things be made to leap into clear view?”

She smiled at me as though I were a child in a toffee shop with a pocket full of money not knowing what to buy first.

“We can travel to any of these places instantly,” she said.

I gazed at her, unable to believe it. “The outer galaxies?”

“We come from what you call an outer galaxy, on this ship distance and time have no meaning.”

“So the other chap spoke truly,” I shook my head. “Where was this miracle of engineering constructed?”

She drew my gaze to a body much nearer to us than the far off alien worlds beyond man’s conception, to a small red planet not much further from earth than our moon (figuratively speaking). “Mars,” I said. “You’ve been to mars?”

“We have a city there, although we don’t call that planet the same thing.”

“Mars is the god of war,” I said proudly.

“But we do not fight wars,” she told me. “War is pointless when one lives in harmony with creation.”

I felt humbled by her idealism, by comparison I sounded like some ancient reactionary.

“Have you lived on mars in this city?”

“I have lived on many planets; in fact I haven’t been home since I was a child. I grew up on this ship, trained here and was eventually promoted to my current position. It is the way of our people; we are nomadic explorers with the entire cosmos as our backyard.”

How I envied these people their extraordinary freedoms, “May I ask your name? I am Herbert George Wells, a writer.”

From her smile it was clear she knew who I was, “My name is Xania.” She said, “We only have one name and it usually relates to our position in the universe at the time of birth, this means that every name is unique. Your people are rather fixed you keep repeating the same sound vibrations.”

“We cannot leave our small planet,” I sighed. “Although some of us dream of fantastical journeys, myself, Mr Verne, one of two others; too few if I’m honest. Most men never even think of life on other planets, they are so enmeshed in the mundane trivia of day to day life.” I thought the word Xania was beautiful, and it suited this bewitching Amazon perfectly.

Her smile was sympathetic, “Then let me take you on a guided tour of the ship, to give you some idea of its majesty. The interior dimension is quite different from the outside shell, it occupies a larger area.”

Was she saying that the inside was bigger than the outside; this was a physical absurdity I thought?

The next room we came to was bathed in soft lights of many colours and the luminosity was flooding in through the walls, these were honeycombed with hundreds of bars or tubes. When it came into the room the light pooled in one of six bays, where it seemed to swirl and ferment changing into a denser matter that was siphoned off down cables to other parts of the craft I assumed.

“This is a processing plant is it not Xania?”

“Very good George, what we’re absorbing are the vital energies that cocoon this world, they are totally free and cannot be exhausted.”

“What kind of energies?”

“Different types of radiation that we use to fuel our ship, you see it does burn coal or oil.”

“And this energy is free you say?” I was staggered as I thought of the vast dirty oil and coal industries that mined the land and sea, stripping it of ever greater resources every year.

“Free, clean and spiritually enhancing to all those who use it.”

Then why I thought do human beings not know of it, why are captains of industry not rushing to tap into it now? They may not know of course, yes I should be charitable to them.

“The British Empire could make great use of this power,” I said allowed, surprised by my own patriotic fervour.

“In less than fifty years there will be no British Empire,” Xania told me straight faced. I was outraged at such a suggestion the empire would last forever. But she cut into my bluster with calm authority and there was no doubt in her eyes.

“It will exhaust itself fighting one pointless war after another, war is futile George it fosters nothing but pain.”

“But sometimes it’s essential,” I croaked.

“You do not understand the Law of Attraction, which put simply states that what you give out is what you receive in return. Hatred and violence lead to disaster on any planet.”

I had never heard of such a law, although when she explained it there was a certain logic.

“Who created this law?”

“It is a universal truth, and all of us who travel the universe must observe it, to break this or any other law leads to a reduction in intelligence, ability and ultimately suffering.”

I had never heard such a thing espoused at school or college, nor was it ever debated in parliament or church.

“So you’re saying that it’s always wrong to fight, what about self-defence?”

“When you live in harmony with universal law none can attack you, when you rise about violent thoughts you also rise above violent actions.”

Xania seemed to believe this totally, but I was cognisant of our national enemies in Germany and Russia; would they be impressed by such a pacifist viewpoint?

“Things are different on earth,” I said. “There are certain political realities.”

She didn’t argue, but I could tell she wasn’t impressed. What she said was,

“Earth is like every primitive planet I’ve been to, none of them believe things can change but one learns, evolves, shall we move on.”

The next chamber contained more of the crew, but none of them were women like Xania instead I saw more of the lemurs and turquoise eyed entities. When I put it to her that they seemed to be of a different species she smiled.

“The black shadows are androids – machines, you might think of them as robots. But they weren’t assembled like your cars or trains, think of crystals growing in a solution.”

It was an intriguing idea, “So they’re not living, thinking men?” I said.

“Do not fall into that trap, they have consciousness and personality.”

“Do they have souls?” I had to ask even though I wasn’t especially religious; it was the sort of thing my wife would want to know. And to be honest I was curious.

“All life forms have souls,” Xania told me.

“Even androids,” I was unfamiliar with the word? Nodding she moved around the control room, which seemed to be fashioned after a spiral with equipment extending outward from the centre in a kind of swirl. I had no idea what the box-like machines were, not typewriters or teleprinters or engines yet they had the qualities of all three. Streamlined and silent, they flashed many colours and had screens on which shapes and numbers could be seen.

“What of the other beings?” I nodded at one of the lemurs.

“These people are neighbours and long-time allies of ours; they come from a different planet but have always had a close kinship with my people. So they serve on our ships, and some of us serve on theirs. There is a great cosmic brotherhood where I come from, a tradition of cooperating.”

The nations of earth had much to learn I thought here there was nothing but conflict and conspiracy.

“What are they all doing Xania?”

“This is where the ship is controlled from here we can also communicate with any planet in this galaxy. At the moment we are exchanging information with several dozen.”

“How much do you charge for this service?” I asked thinking it highly profitable.

“Charge,” She seemed confused maybe it was none of my business?

“Forgive me it was an impertinent question, everything on earth relates to money.”

Her eyes widened and a smile formed as she nodded understanding, “There is no charge George, my people don’t have money, nor do most of the advanced species we have encountered.”

Now I couldn’t believe that, being a pacifist was one thing and very fine, but no money? Without capital nothing could function, there would be no trade, no employment.

“Xania no economy can exist without payment for goods.”

“George,” she said softly then broke into a chuckle. “The Law of Service tells us that when we help others, we help ourselves. When you assist another to the best of your ability, you yourself receive assistance. It is similar to the previous Law I explained.”

I didn’t understand, if I did my best to help my fellow men for no payment I’d end up broke and considered a fool.

“But this isn’t how it works on earth; one expects to be paid in currency.”

“A system that creates a small number of rich people and a lot of poverty George, wouldn’t it be better if all of your people benefited?”

Yes I supposed it would, but governments would never agree to a barter economy or one based on service.

“I’m sorry Xania but your life style seems very naïve and unworldly for people who are so well travelled.” I said.

“It is a way of life based on compassion and acceptance George that bypasses greed and corruption, I know of no advanced race that uses money.”

Before I could enter into an economic and fiscal discourse she touched me with one hand, and waved around her bridge with another.

“Could your wealthy empire build a craft like this?” She asked the answer was self-evident. “You need not say anything, it is clear they couldn’t. This vehicle was actually constructed on five different planets by thousands of engineers, and it is a testament to the philosophy of cooperation. The crew are multi-racial as you can see; nobody is forced to travel with us those that do choose to be of service. Nobody here has a wage or salary, nobody here is in debt. Doesn’t that sound like a much kinder system of life than the unremitting drudgery of your money-based economy?”

Put like that it did and I was momentarily lost for an argument, these aliens were kinder than the humans I knew. None had the browbeaten weariness of factory workers, or sailors pressed into duty. The atmosphere was light and stimulating, people came and went as they chose and nobody saluted Xania.

Leading me through an opening she took me into a comfortable lounge that was obviously used for relaxation, there stretched out on sofas I saw men and women of many different colours, sizes and types. So exotic were the mixture of people that I’m afraid I stared rudely at several. None seemed offended as they chatted amongst themselves in fact they paid me not the slightest attention.

Bringing me a tall glass containing an amber liquid, Xania waved to a free sofa and sipped from a glass of her own. Her clothing had changed colour and texture I noticed, it was now lighter and softer like a kind of wool yet she couldn’t have changed as there hadn’t been time so clearly her suit had the ability to transform its nature.

Then she asked me bluntly, “As a writer will you write about your experience here George?”

It had crossed my mind, but who would believe any of it? The publishers of 1890 weren’t ready for these radical ideas I was having enough trouble with them myself.

“I may write something,” I fudged. “A work of fiction that is tailored to the market.”

She smiled a secret smile as if fully understanding my predicament, “So the truth will have to wait for your next incarnation.”

This rather startled me as life after death and reincarnation were not topics I expected an alien to discuss.

“Bring your drink,” she told me. “I have one more wonder to share with you.”

There were two bodies laid on two cots side by side, one was elderly and heavily wrinkled with a wheezing chest but the other was young and virile with clear skin and luscious long purple hair. I would have said that the age difference between the two was seven decades yet it was the old husk that was alive, whereas the young body showed no signs of animation.

Xania said, “When we die our soul can instantly transfer to a new physical body with no loss of memory, hence we avoid the confusion and tedious re-education process of your species. That young body you can see has been cloned from the old one, not an identical copy but it will have similar traits and be free of disease. Through cloning we have eliminated virtually all illness.”

I moved closer, “Who is this poor old chap?”

“My son,” she told me, and my jaw must have sagged a long way as she broke into glorious laughter.

“This geriatric is your child? No I can’t believe it, you’re a young woman of no more than twenty-five.”

Xania shook her head, “This body you see is young and fresh, but my soul is thousands of years old. As indeed George is yours, although you can’t remember any of your past lives.”

No I couldn’t and wasn’t sure if I believed in these Hindu concepts, even if they did appeal to me more than rigid Presbyterianism. Before I could protest Xania raised a finger, the moment of death had arrived. Suddenly the old man croaked and shuddered then was still, all life signs had ceased. Yet instead of tears or screams my hostess smiled.

My gaze jumped between the two bodies, both of which now seemed to be dead. There is no understating the shock I felt when the young chest inflated suddenly, its mouth opened and a breath was taken. Eyes popping open the young man licked his lips and colour suffused both cheeks.

“Ah that’s much better,” he whispered looking up at Xania, who had edged nearer. “Ooolah to you mother.”

“Ooolah,” she replied and bending over she kissed him as any proud mother would. This word of greeting sang across my brain hypnotically, and I knew it was one of the few details I would retain in any novel I wrote about aliens coming to earth.

“Who is this?” the newly born man enquired.

“Herbert George Wells, a native of the most recent planet we visited.”

Sitting up the purple haired man rubbed his eyes, and it was as though he’d taken no more than a long nap. “It is nice to meet you,” he said.

“And you,” I mumbled still in shock. “How did it feel to die?”

Son and parent swapped an amused look, and then the former rose from his cot to walk over to the now lifeless old husk. “Liberating,” he told me, “Which is just how you will find it when you escape your prison of flesh and fly off into the energy dimension to rest and take stock.”

Xania patted her son on the shoulder and said well to him, which was a bit of an understatement under the circumstances as he had performed a miracle I thought reserved to masters like Jesus. No, this wouldn’t be going in my novel.

“I think it is time we returned you to the common,” Xania said, “Before you overdose on wonder.”

“I have just one question for you, will we meet again you and I?”

Again that secret smile and I suddenly understood, next incarnation.