Serialized Science Fiction.

Abduction, abduction, whaat's your function?
Tom Haynes

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As the lights started swooping down out of the Arizona skies, I felt just a moment of fear and even some empathy for ever doubting those hicks way back in Roswell. There had been a rash of sightings and I had been sent in to both alleviate their concerns and draw attention away from the next generation stealth fighter. Why those idiots at Groom Lake insisted on buzzing Roswell was beyond me.

Anyway, I knew those flyboys were being kept under wrap tonight and my weather balloon explanation was patently false. So just what the hell was swooping down on me? The government issued Buick sputtered and then stalled. Great, just great. I got out as the lights buzzed on over head. Luckily they gave me enough illumination to look at the engine. As I popped open the hood, I noticed that the second hand on my watch had stopped - 10:31 and 19 seconds.

The lights were whizzing about me now - they definitely seemed much too small to be planes or even some alien spacecraft. I chuckled at myself as I got a clear look at them; they were spheroid and just the size of weather balloons. I couldn't see what powered them and there was no sign of exhaust. Suddenly I was nervous, real nervous, and I wish I had brought the Glock out of the glove compartment. As they circled me, they spun, each emitting a diffuse glow, building a rainbow effect around me. My only thought was of the gun, but no matter how many times I signaled my legs to move, they stayed rooted to the spot in front of the car.

The whining started then and I grabbed my ears as I screamed in agony. The rainbow coalesced into a white beam which shot up into the heavens, carrying me along with it. As I rose, my limbs spread out and even though the air was torn from my lungs, I screamed the whole way up.

"Captain Buchanan, wake up sir! You're having that dream again, you have to wake up." As I peeled my lids open, I could tell I had been thrashing again. The restraints weren't on, but I knew that if I kept things up, the nurse, surely it was she who was waking me up, would feel no compunction in getting the orderlies to strap me down.

"Wha, what time is it?" I croaked, stalling for time. It seemed like I had just been taken five minutes ago, but I knew, just knew my breakdown had been weeks in the past. I struggled to recall the nurse's name, but it eluded me.

"Its 10:31 sir." she smiled wholesomely, as if by asking that familiar question she knew the violence was not going to engulf me this time and she could spare me the needle I saw peeking out from behind her turned left hand. I could recall needles and other things, but I couldn't recall the time I had spent in the base infirmary. She started to frown as she plotted where my eyes were glued. Evidently the sight of the needle and my probable reaction trumped any ray of sunshine presented by the question.

She twisted her hand back, whether to further hide the evidence or just to prepare to strike, I never knew. I figured more questions were called for, I really didn't want that needle, or its deadly cargo for that matter, near me. "Wha, umh, what happened to me?"

I could see the shock register on her face, perhaps I had finally deviated from some script that we had been rehearsing over and over again? I could still feel the concern for her patient rain down on me from above, but you know what, I don't like things looking down on me from above anymore. I sat up slowly, trying not to startle her any further. Evidently I had no expectations about her behavior and my only clues were to watch her and learn. She however seemed to know what I should be doing. Was it weeks, or much longer?

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