Chapter 18: Chapter 18
“PERILOUS RETURN”
The sky was still dark outside the motel. Inside, the hallway was quiet and empty when Dr. Kjell walked out of his bedroom yawning and wearing old pajamas. He picked up a newspaper outside of the door and walked over to Dr. Palmer’s room.
“Knock, knock, knock.” Kjell listened carefully through the door and held back a yawn.
“Doctor? Dr. Palmer? I hate to wake you, but I believe your flight will be leaving in an hour, and I really want to go in and check on our patient.”
As Kjell listened with his ear up to the door, Dr. Palmer suddenly pulled the door open and stepped out wearing a nice suit looking clean and professional. “Good morning Dr. Kjell. Did you sleep okay?”
“I don't know. I haven't woke up yet”
“I will be leaving on my flight back now. I have a scheduled press conference and much further preparation.”
Dr. Kjell was surprised. “Do you have a way back to the airport?”
“Yes. Rico is in the room down the hall. He’ll be dropping me off before sunrise, and will then be driving you to the hospital.”
“I’m impressed. Where did you get this driver?”
Dr. Palmer smiled, “Rico came highly recommended. Do you know today’s treatment?”
“Well, I’ll first check the cranioplasty to see if Lacy’s body is accepting the artificial skull tissue,” said Kjell deep in thought.
“When she can survive without life support, we’ll transfer the body to the Neurological center at Science Exploration.”
“I will not leave until her brain is able to support life in her body. That is my number one priority.”
Dr. Palmer nodded in agreement. “Thank you Dr. Kjell. If you detect further aneurysm, any further treatment is paid. Science Exploration is deep in debt to Lacy Meaux, and keeping her alive is the least we can do.”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
Palmer then walked down the hall and knocked on another door. Rico the taxi driver finally opened up and looked half asleep. “Is it time?”
“Be ready to take me to the airport in five minutes.”
“Yes sir,” answered Rico before rushing to put on clothes and a hat. “I’m almost ready.”
“I’m going to check out, and you will be staying with Dr. Kjell and driving him anywhere he needs to go.”
“Not a problem,” answered Rico as he tried to slide on pants.
Palmer then closed Rico’s door and walked hurriedly down the hall.
“Good morning Ben,” said the computerized clock next to Ben’s bed. “The time is now eight o’clock, and you have an important meeting at the Science Exploration Agency.”
“Okay, okay,” answered Ben as he got up and walked out to the living room area. “How does that clock know about today’s plans?”
“I set it,” answered Quazum. “I didn’t want to have to wake you up myself.”
“Yeah? Do you know how to turn off the alarm? Permanently?”
“Sure,” answered Quazum as he walked over to the bedside clock.
Ben headed to the bathroom. “Why are you even awake? Did you ever even go to sleep?”
“Sure. I just got up a few minutes ago,” replied Quazum as he quickly pushed buttons on the touch screen clock.
“Alarm settings are now turned off,” announced the computer clock. Quazum then walked back over to the big computer screen and began typing.
Ben walked out and examined the clock. He had a confused look before walking over for a closer look at video playing on the computer, “What are you looking at now? What is this?”
“It’s the documented history of the Quazmopolis moon,” answered Quazum. “This oxygen based moon was discovered twenty-five years ago. Tests on planets in the Kepler Solar System came back negative before the breathable air and temperatures on one moon showed the possibility of supporting life forms.”
“But there’s always been one small problem. Nothing could survive the exorbitant temperature range.”
Computer television continued, “Missions have all resulted in unexplained complications. Dr. William Palmer began financing explorations in attempts to introduce possible new life forms capable of withstanding temperatures.”
Ben stood up. “Quazmopolis always had mysteries, and unexplained injuries in those early missions, that this computer doesn’t even know about. That’s truly what’s behind Palmer’s curiosity.”
“I understand now,” replied Quazum. “They’re not mysteries. It’s my family. My species. It’s life on the Quazmopolis moon that just doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“So where does this life hide out? Where do you think they go?”
Quazum zoomed in on close-ups of rocks surrounding the Quazmopolis surface on the screen. “This is a video taken by satellite images!”
“Do you see something? It just looks like hills of solid rock,” answered Ben.
“There! That green and red rock!” said Quazum as he pointed at the screen. “I saw motion! Can you see it?”
“I just see a lot of rocks.”
“It’s life on Quazmopolis that just can’t be seen by humans. Just like me.”
“So you think forms of life are all over the surface, but humans just can’t see them?”
Ben’s computer continued speaking, “New undocumented information shows extreme temperatures on the surface of Quazmopolis. Plus, the excessive gravity may explain the impossibility of life forms capable of surviving.”
“That’s why we’ve got no reason to explore or even attempt communication with life on Quazmopolis.” Ben walked back to his room.
Quazum looked up at the screen. “But that might be it. My family on Quazmopolis just wanted to save my life! And continue the species on another planet!”
“So why don’t you just stay here?” asked Ben. “They sent you here for a reason.”
“I want to learn about where I came from. I want to meet all my true relatives. I just want to go home.”
“Okay, okay,” replied Ben. “We’ve got a dangerous mission today. We’ve got to get you into the SEA Headquarters and sneak you into that Solar Jet. You can return home and communicate with your species. Let’s go.”
Quazum turned from the computer monitor and walked over, “You really think we can do it?”
“I have a few ideas. But it’s not going to be easy.”
Dressed formally, Palmer walked up to the dark front desk of the motel and looked around. The receptionist finally walked out with a yawn and looked surprised.
“Good morning. I’m Dr. William Palmer here to check out.”
“Yes. Mr. Palmer,” answered the receptionist as she punched in the name on the computer. “You had three rooms, right?”
“Yes. There are two guests who will not be checking out now. They will be staying by the day.”
“Yes sir,” answered the receptionist as she typed on the computer and opened files. “Did you happen to see any ghosts in your room?”
Dr. Palmer was surprised by the question but answered calmly, “I’ve seen no ghosts.”
“No unexplained noises? Or irregular motion inside your motel suite?”
“No,” answered Palmer again. “I presume you’ve had reports of ghost sightings?”
The receptionist’s eyes lit up as she explained, “I saw them myself. A beat up guy checked into this motel with weird sounds and requested a room with two beds, even though he was by himself.”
Dr. Palmer thought about that description. “So what was the ghost sighting?”
“Well, housekeepers and other guests said they heard noises. And when he checked out, his car door opened and closed by itself. Lots of patrons saw it. Not just me! And the news came and asked questions.”
“Who was the man? Do you have a name?”
“He had no ID and paid with cash. But he said he knew the sheriff and would be flying home to California... all for some space mission.”
Dr. Palmer looked around the room before answering. “All right. Thank you for the information.”
The receptionist finished calculating the bill and went on with regular work. Dr. Palmer walked out to the driveway as Rico and the cab pulled right up to the door.
SEA Headquarters appeared very busy with office workers and explorers in a panic running from room to room. Scientists were dressed partly in uniform and partly in exploration suits as they carried boxes and computer screens back and forth. Phones were ringing, and Alice was taking calls from reporters and from the media.
“The mission will be implanting the Cacti plant in a Composite Base in hopes of creating life forms on Quazmopolis,” said Alice into a phone. “It’s not the first mission but shows a lot of promise at Science Exploration.”
Chris Evans then ran up to Alice’s desk. “Do we have information on the disambiguation grip for the Solar Jet?”
Alice pulled a file out of the cabinet and handed it to Chris while continuing on the phone. “New sightings of motion have not been verified. Mission will be exploring and uncovering signs of genetic mutation.”
“How long before the press conference?” Pilot Jenkins ran by carrying exploration gear.
“It starts in one hour,” answered Alice. “Yes, the mission will include a search for possible forms of life among an assortment of natural rock, but we have no affirmation of a life form capable of surviving the climate.”
“When’s Palmer supposed to get here?” asked Pilot Jenkins while running by. “Have you heard anything new?”
“Soon. He’s on a flight. That’s all we know.” Alice then picked up another ringing phone. “All those details will be given at the press conference before take-off. Thank you.”
“Has the solar jet been sealed?” yelled another scientist as she ran by.
After hanging up the phone, Alice looked up. “If anyone hears anything from Dr. Palmer, let me know!”
“Are we supposed to bring the thermal vacuum helmets?” asked Oliver.
“Just pack everything that Dr. Palmer has ordered,” replied Alice.
The phone continued ringing, ignored by Alice, while the scientists rushed back and forth carrying boxes and equipment.
“Does that include a Trace Analyzer?” asked Chris. “This should be in jet storage!”
“All information on safety tethers can be found on achronal office mail posted five days ago,” replied Alice. “All logging data is to be documented as tests are being performed.”
“I don’t know if Palmer saw some of this new video when he posted instructions,” mumbled Oliver. “We’re now seeing signs of motion and close-up video clips of sliding granite boulders at this new location. This is all new.”
“Are we releasing this to the press?” asked Jenkins.
Scientists continued racing back and forth before Alice yelled out, “Dr. Palmer will make decisions of all information released. Hello. Science Exploration...”
“Just stop answering that phone,” yelled Chris.
“I can’t. It’s my job.”
Phones continued ringing before Pilot Jenkins ran up the hall yelling, “Has anyone seen the belt of urethane coated nylon?”
Sheriff Rob Neil was driving down the old roads and highways through Louisiana. He was deep in thought as old-fashioned cajun music played on his radio.
When a news voice started, Neil reached down to change the station before stopping to listen. “The last ghost reports came in yesterday from the airport. Voices were heard coming from a suitcase carried on board a jet bound for California. There have been no further local sightings since that jet took off.”
Sheriff Neil reached down to change the station when the jockey continued, “People in California better get ready for the ghosts!”
Neil looked out of the car window and appeared to be thinking before pulling into his personal parking spot at Back Bayou Police Department. He again saw the same reporters and news vans scattered through the parking lot and in the lobby.
After thinking for a second, Neil walked around to the back of the station and calmly headed for the back door. Reporters immediately ran after Neil and began asking questions.
“Sheriff, have there been undisclosed reports of more sightings?”
“Are you investigating ghosts spotted at the local market?”
“Do you believe sightings at the airport may be related to original sightings in the Back Bayou?”
Neil answered no questions as he pulled the door closed, then continued down the hall as police officers surrounded him with questions.
Officer Covert approached the sheriff first holding a computer monitor with video and graphics playing. “Sheriff, we have information that it was Ben Thomas rolling a suitcase onto the jet where sightings and voices were heard yesterday. We have pictures and videos.”
Sheriff Neil ignored Covert and continued walking towards his office.
“Captain,” said another officer. “We also have new witnesses confirming it was Ben Thomas that paid cash at the motel where other ghosts were reported.”
“Media is reporting ghost sightings around the world, and they all started here,” said Vera while holding up a phone.
Sheriff Neil looked around the office at all the policemen and finally answered calmly, “The ghost investigations are over.”
“What? What are you talking about?” asked Officer Covert. “We’re finally turning up real information.”
“Sheriff, we can’t just drop the investigation,” said Vera. “It’s just getting started.”
“Ben Thomas and the mystery suitcase have returned to California,” answered Neil. “It’s now out of our hands.”
“Can we at least contact the California airport?” asked Covert. “And maybe their police?”
“No, that’s it. No further mention of ghosts.
Cab driver Rico was parked outside the motel when Dr. Kjell walked out carrying his suitcase and climbed into the back of the taxi.
“Good morning Dr. Kjell,” said Rico. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I slept fine.”
“I dropped Dr. Palmer at the airport, and he said to just drive you anywhere you decide.”
“That’s fine,” answered Kjell.
“So you think this girl can live without a brain?”
“Keeping her alive is not the problem. Lacy’s survival is dependent on whether her body can communicate with unnatural implanted brain cells. That we just don’t know.”
“How difficult is that?” asked Rico.
“It’s the frontal lobe of the cerebrum connected to the limbic system,” answered Kjell deep in thought. “And that’s all attached to the cortex of her brainstem. I don’t know.”
Rico seemed confused with the explanation. “Dr. Palmer said he’s going to have that girl shipped to California? You think that’s a good idea?”
“She will be moved to California Neural Hospital, when her heart is capable of maintaining life.”
“Even if she can’t think and can’t move? You’ll continue the treatment, right?”
“Cerebral body function is the ability to pump blood and breathe while not connected to the life support of a machine. What’s important is reviving the cerebrum of the brain which contains memory of an entire lifetime.”
Rico nodded his head as he pulled into the Memorial Hospital. “Oh yeah, that is important.”
Dr. Palmer was sitting on the jet in a middle seat next to one lady with a crying baby and a heavyset man. Palmer uncomfortably tried to type and search on his laptop computer.
The stewardess approached and said politely to Palmer, “Sir? I’ve checked the information you requested. Seats in first class will not be available till this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” replied Palmer. “That is fine.”
“And no one in first class is willing to give up their seat,” continued the stewardess. “And I told them you would pay any cost.”
Palmer looked around at the crowded jet and politely answered, “I understand.”
“So, anything else I can get for you?”
“No thank you. I’m fine,” replied Palmer as he looked down to his personal laptop computer.
The passengers sitting next to Dr. Palmer looked annoyed. Lady rocking her baby asked, “So, you’re unsatisfied having to sit next to regular folks?”
“We’re so sorry for your inconvenience,” mumbled an older gentleman sarcastically.
Palmer ignored the comments and read from classified video taken from the satellite. His computer then spoke out into his earphones, “Unexplained motion has again been detected by new satellites on areas of Quazmopolis, but no life forms have been observed.”
Close zoom-ins on rocks and study of the reported motion showed no recognizable movement. Palmer then slowed down video of the heavy rock surface and noticed small unexplained waves of motion.
The computer continued, “Hard boulders natural to Quazmopolis are reported to be some of the hardest and heaviest matter known to man. Excavation is planned to create a soil of composite base. It is believed that plant life may now survive the extreme surface temperatures.”
“You know the ‘C Group’ is exploring that planet,” said the curious lady with the baby.
“It’s the Science Exploration Agency,” answered Palmer politely. “And Quazmopolis is a moon.”
“I thought it had something to do with ‘C’.”
Palmer’s phone suddenly began buzzing, and Palmer reached into his jacket pocket. “Yes. This is Palmer.”
Surrounding passengers look around to Dr. Palmer and listened closely. “No. This mission to Quazmopolis will be taking off at the scheduled time. There will be no delay.”
Passengers were suddenly impressed by Palmer’s identity and continued listening. “All costs and obligations are being picked up by Science Exploration. There is no tax money being spent on the mission. Excessive expense complaints hold no weight.”
“Are you involved in that mission?” asked the older man. “I always get a kick out of rockets and space exploring.”
Palmer ignored surrounding passengers and continued. “I am flying in right now. Announcements will be made at the press conference before take-off.”
“What are you looking to find on this mission?” asked the heavy man sitting next to Palmer. “I thought all exploration ended after the last mission.”
The baby next to Palmer began crying again as Dr. Palmer touched buttons on his phone. The lady then asked, “You think your cactus plants will survive this time?”
Palmer continued touching his screen and held the phone up to his ear. “Get me Alice at SEA Headquarters.”
“Telephone calls cannot be made from the traveling jet right now,” replied a computer voice. “You will be notified when outer phone lines are open.”
Dr. Palmer continued pushing buttons on the computer until he got an answer.“Get me SEA Headquarters, now!”
“Calling Science Exploration Agency,” responded the computer voice. “Please hold.”
Older passenger tapped Palmer on the arm. “Will those cactus plants survive this time? Any idea?”
“It’s a composite base, and they are all responsive to the temperature variations,” replied Palmer.
“I don’t care about Quazmopolis,” mumbled the lady with the baby. “Nobody lives there. Maybe you could build a retirement home locally instead.”
Alice’s voice on the computer answered. “Yes Dr. Palmer.”
“What is the current status of the mission?”
“SEA scientists are very busy,” replied Alice as she looked around. “But all is going as scheduled.”
“Are we prepared for the press conference?”
“Scientists are getting information ready to disclose. I think we’re fine.” Scientists rush by picking up documents and keeping busy. “Pilot Jenkins and Chris Evans will be answering questions and reading prepared information... if you’re not back.”
Chris poked his head onto the computer screen and said, “We’re all prepared sir. Expect new Quazmopolis mission to be a complete success.”
“What satellite images are we currently reading?” asked Palmer.
“Digital balance measurements are showing ‘unexplained motion’ but G.E.D. tests are detecting no thermo-imperial movement. All visual motion attributed to high afternoon winds.”
“I see... Prepare for the conference and departure... Everything at scheduled times.”
“Yes sir,” answered Alice. “We’ll be ready.”
“Thank you,” replied Palmer as he hung up the phone.
Surrounding passengers continued staring at Dr. Palmer as he put the phone back into his briefcase and began studying photos and video of Quazmopolis on his computer screen.
Ben and Quazum were being driven by a service through busy freeways in California. Ben was sitting in the back seat wearing a clean SEA suit with fresh brushed hair. His seat belt was attached, and Quazum was hiding behind the seat. Driver was kicked back, and the auto-steering system was driving the vehicle.
“You said SEA Headquarters, right?” asked the driver as he adjusted the computerized map.
“Yes,” replied Ben. “You can exit on Main Street and take streets to beat freeway traffic.”
Driver looked back, and the computer answered. “Open streets will be followed through the inner city to the Science Exploration Agency. Distance remaining is two miles. Expected time of arrival will be about three minutes.”
Ben pretended to be speaking into the phone as he talked to Quazum. “Now when we arrive, you are to remain motionless and just sit on top of my suitcase. You’ll just be an old container of SEA files that I'm just delivering for Dr. Palmer. You won’t speak or move around. Your entire existence will be top secret.”
Driver looked back confused by the conversation he was overhearing, and Ben continued pretending to speak into the phone. Quazum remained still thinking about the mission.
“We can sneak through security and I’ll lay you down in the corner with my case. First chance we get, I’ll get you loaded with the Arid Cacti Plant storage section of the jet.” You’ll have complete privacy, and all the oxygen you’ll need to survive the trip.”
When the driver overheard, he spoke up. “You have special luggage going on-board the Solar Jet?”
“No,” replied Ben. “It’s just some aid I’ll be offering the crew for today’s Quazmopolis mission.”
The computerized car continued driving and the car map spoke out, “Science Exploration Agency is now coming up on the right.”
“Where do you want to get out?” asked the driver as the car drove up to the security guard booth. “You sure we’ll be welcome?”
Ben rolled down the back seat window and noticed Charles sitting in a booth. “Morning Charles.”
Charles was surprised to see Ben sitting in the back seat. “Good morning Mr. Thomas. How are you today?”
“We’re fine,” replied Ben. “I mean, I’m fine.”
Charles laughed and looked at the driver. “Are you here for the big Quazmopolis expedition?”
“I am,” replied Ben confidently. “I just want to help out my old friends to prepare. And maybe help out the crew members during the press conference. Anything I can do.”
“Well, we’re happy to have you back, Mr. Thomas,” answered Charles as he pushed buttons to open the gate. And Dr. Palmer said you are welcome at SEA, and he considers you a full time employee.”
“Thank you, Charles.” Ben seemed confused and began to close the window.
Charles leaned in and tapped on Ben’s window. “Do you have any word on Miss Lacy’s condition?”
“No,” answered Ben. “She took a bullet to the skull, and I don’t think she’s going to make it. She’s now on complete life support. And even if she does survive, she will have no brain function.”
“We heard about that. That Miss Lacy was truly a big hero of SEA. We’re pulling for her.”
Ben looked down at Quazum before answering. “Thank you, Charles. I truly wish there was something we could do. ”
The gates finally opened and Charles saluted Ben. “You are welcome at the Science Exploration Agency any time, Mr. Thomas.”
“Thanks.” The automated car then slowly pulled up to the front door.
Ben looked down at Quazum. “I believe doctors have finally realized what Lacy did for this agency. She deserves the best treatment any doctor can give.”
The car pulled up in front of the beautiful SEA building. Ben climbed out and carefully lifted Quazum onto the suitcase on wheels. “Just remain out of sight and completely motionless. Keep your eyes closed. I’ll roll you in.”
“Not a problem,” replied a nervous Quazum. “I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Anything else I can do?” asked the driver as he climbed out of the car and opened Ben’s door.
“No,” answered Ben. “Do you need a payment or a signature?”
“No sir. We got all the information we need from your eye recognition. Just leave your tip on the bill.”
“Great,” said Ben sarcastically as he rolled Quazum into the SEA entrance, and acknowledged old co-workers as he walked into the lobby.
“Well, look who’s here,” said Blanche right away when she saw Ben walking up carefully rolling the suitcase. “Are you here for the take-off?”
“Yes,” replied Ben. “I just want to see some of the scientists to wish them good luck, and offer to help any way I can.”
“Dr. Palmer said you’re always welcome,” said Blanche. “What’s the latest word on Lacy’s condition? Any news?”
“Doctors believe they can save the body. But without a brain, she can never fully recover. So we don’t know.”
Blanche looked remorseful but told Ben, “You know Dr. Palmer said you and Lacy Meaux are now full-time employees, like you never left!”
“He said that?”
Blanche pushed buttons that opened the lobby door. “Just make your way back to the SEA offices. Scientists back there can answer any questions.”
“Thank you, Blanche,” said Ben as he rolled Quazum back to the SEA offices.
The body of Lacy was lying in bed with the half-shaved head partially covered by a clear glass bubble and dripping blood. Machines were pumping, maintaining a heartbeat and controlling her breathing. Dr. Kjell examined levels on the computer screen and measured medications that were continually funneling into Lacy’s body when the nurse walked in.
“All vital system elements have remained consistent through the night. Nothing has changed since Dr. Winston left this morning.”
“Do you have a cerebral recuperation reading?”
“New tests have shown no rejection of brain tissue,” answered the nurse. “But also no signs of restoration.”
Dr. Kjell pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and began shining it through the glass cover, and into Lacy’s eyes. “I see signs of voluntary motion of the pupil. That was not being detected yesterday.”
“Is her brain seeing?”
“It means the Limbic System is taking on hindbrain parts of the cerebellum,” answered Kjell as he began removing the glass cover around the open skull. “Only time can heal the skull opening and damage to the brain.”
“Dr. Kjell? You have a call.” A nurse stood in the doorway holding the phone.
“Who is it? I can’t talk right now.”
“It’s Dr. Palmer,” replied the nurse.
Kjell looked surprised, then walked over and picked up the phone. “This is Kjell?”
“How is she doing? Anything new?” asked Dr. Palmer as the jet was landing.
“I believe her new peripheral nerves are being accepted. But I don’t know if she will ever be able to remember or think again,” replied Kjell. “She may continue with only a heartbeat.”
Palmer thought about the diagnosis before replying, “Continue brain reparation, and proper blood flow. You just have to maintain steady neural waves before we can ship the body back to the Neural Hospital.”
Stewardess then began speaking over the speaker, “Jet is now beginning to descend. Please keep your seat belts locked. When the jet has landed, passengers are to remain seated...”
Palmer covered his ear and continued on the phone speaking over the stewardess, “Continue overseeing Lacy, and I will have another doctor with new equipment and live brain parts shipped down there tomorrow.”
“I think Lacy’s life is dependent on memory.”
Palmer hung up his phone as the jet began touching down. Passengers gripped their seat belts and listened in on Palmer, as he continued reading and opening files.
When the jet came to a full stop, Palmer hurried to put his computer into carry on luggage, but then waited behind the long and crowded aisle. He then checked the time on his phone as he waited for first class passengers taking their time getting off the plane.
Nearby passengers began to encourage Palmer and complement the Quazmopolis mission, “Good luck, doctor.”
“We’ll be checking the mission on the news,” said the lady. with the baby. “Hope you can create plants on the moon.”
Dr. Palmer smiled uncomfortably as he waited to get off.