Beyond Sol Bk. 01 Pt. 01

"State your name and reason for being here?" the same voice said. Only this time, it wasn't crushing my eardrums.

The man it belonged to stepped forward, and I could just make out his features. He was tall, well into his fifties, with broad shoulders and a thick head of neatly styled snow-white hair. His piercing blue eyes studied me intently. His flat expression giving nothing away.

"Now!" he barked in a stern, no-nonsense voice.

"Jason. Jason Stone. I was driving home and saw this coming down," I gestured to the ship behind me.

"Was there anyone with you, Mister Stone," he asked.

"No, just myself," I replied.

The white-haired man raised his hand, and the lights dimmed with a motion of his wrist. They were still bright, but they weren't blinding. White spots dance across my vision, and it took a few seconds of blinking my eyes until I could see clearly again. I cautioned a quick glance over my shoulder to see the figure in the black suit was still standing where I'd seen them last. Tiny red dots floated across the alien's bulky black chest plate, drawing my attention back to the men formed up in front of me. They were all armed with military combat rifles, and each one of them trained on the alien figure by the ship's boarding ramp—all except two, who pointed their weapons at me.

"Good. You will get in your car. You will leave, and you will never speak of what happened here again. You never stopped on your way home. You never saw this object, and you never saw my men or me. Am I clear?" The white-haired man said in a polite tone. His smile was friendly, a smile someone's kind father might use when asking if you wanted a beer. It was more than a little unnerving when you took in the dozens of armed soldiers.

"What about..." I started to say. But he cut me off.

"What about what? I don't see anything here that concerns you, Mister Stone," He added in a much firmer tone, never dropping his smile.

The two men with their weapons pointed at me took a step forward, and I raised my hands to show I wouldn't resist. I couldn't see any markings or logos on their black uniforms, and all the soldiers apart from the white-haired man seemed to be in tactical gear. I did not want to piss them off.

"I'll get in my car then," I said. My heart slammed in my chest as I struggled to stay calm. Never in my life had I even held a gun, let alone had one pointed at me. Now I'd been threatened by men with guns twice in one night.

"Good lad," the older man said with another one of his friendly smiles. "My men here will make sure you find your way out safely. I'd hate for you to get lost."

The white-haired man gestured to the soldiers pointing their weapons at me. I nodded but kept my mouth shut. One of the soldiers approached me, lowered his gun, and placed a gloved hand on my shoulder as he roughly pushed me in the direction of my car. I didn't know how I would leave since the SUV's the men had arrived in were blocking me in.

We reached my car, and I placed a hand on the door handle. Once I got in and drove away, I'd have to forget this happened, and I couldn't tell anyone what I'd seen for fear that whoever the fuck these guys were, would come after me. I'd also never know what happened to the alien standing a dozen metres away from me. I felt a gun barrel between my shoulders when I hesitated.

"Just get in the car," I said to myself. "It's not like I could do anything anyway."

"What did you—" the soldier behind me started to say. Then someone shouted in alarm.

That's when shit hit the fan.

A commotion from the other soldiers drew my attention, and I looked over just in time to see the black-clad alien impale one of the men. The alien threw the dying man into his comrades and darted forward with incredible speed. The blade in its hand lashed out, cutting down two more soldiers with each strike. The weapon was about three feet of dull, flat steel that was wide at the base tapering into a point with a slight curve. The single-edged blade pulsed with an orange glow as the blade slashed cleanly through the soldier's body armour like a freshly sharpened knife through an overly ripe tomato. The wielder moved quicker than any human I'd ever seen, and within seconds, six of the soldiers lay on the ground in pools of quickly growing blood. Only two of them made noise. The rest were in at least two pieces.

"Shoot it!" the white-haired leader barked as he stepped away from the blade-wielding alien.

Gunfire erupted, filling the night with an endless barrage of deafening staccato blasts as each soldier unloaded into their lone enemy. Their bullets seemed not to affect the extraterrestrial being. Shot after shot seemed to ricochet off an invisible barrier that pulsed with bright flashes of light under the brutal barrage. The alien seemed invincible as they cut down another two men with ease.

I saw the second soldier assigned to escort me to my car aim at the alien, and my legs were moving before I could consider what a stupid idea this was. I charged the gunman and shoulder-checked him hard. I wasn't an athlete, nor was I super strong. But I was big. My impact knocked the soldier into the dirt like a hockey player hitting a toddler. The momentum of my charge carried me down with him, pushing the air from my lungs as I hit the ground. I forced myself to my feet as quickly as I could and landed a solid kick to the soldier's armored head as he rose, causing him to slump to the ground once more. I looked over to the alien just in time to see it sever a soldier's right arm. Blood fountained from the stump; the man let out a blood-curdling cry of pain before slumping to his knees clutching the remnants of his mutilated limb. I couldn't see the alien's face through their mirrored helmet, but I knew I was looking into its eyes. Time seemed to slow as we regarded one another over the heap of corpses and writhing bodies that filled the space between us. I saw the remaining soldiers as they reloaded their weapons and brought them to bear down on the lone alien. I even felt the man behind me fingering the trigger of his rifle.

I heard a mumbling voice in my head a split second before time seemed to speed up and return to normal. The world came to life around me once more, and I knew I wasn't getting out of this.

"Run!!" I screamed.

A loud crack of gunfire rang through the air, and pain ripped through my back. I felt the ground slam into my face as I toppled over and the sounds of gunfire and men screaming dimmed with my vision as darkness enveloped me.

Chapter 2

I swam in a sea of darkness for what felt like an eternity. I looked down at my hands every so often, and each time I did, I realised once more that I didn't have any. I didn't have a body of any kind: no legs, arms, or even torso. I just was. I didn't know if I floated, stood, or swam in the thick layers of the void around me. Nothing moved. It was neither hot nor cold, and there was no wind. I didn't even know if I was breathing. Each time I thought to attempt to breathe independently, I forgot to do it. I would repeatedly come to each of these conclusions, and each time I would forget. All I knew was the blackness of the void. And the voice.

The voice came to me almost every second of existence in the void. At first it was faint and far away, like someone shouting your name through a megaphone from a great distance. After a time, it was louder, closer, and clearer. I could never understand what the voice said or to whom it belonged. All I knew was they called to me. The voice was asking for my help and offering theirs in return. I knew the voice needed me, and I needed it. But each time I tried to think of my own body, my breathing, or where I was, the voice vanished, and I forgot everything. The voice always returned, and each time I remembered a fraction of a fraction more than I did before.

"Jason," the voice came from the void.

"Yes," I replied, shocking myself.

I had never understood the voice, let alone spoken to it. It felt like years since I first heard the distant sound and even more years between remembering and forgetting it existed. How long had I been here? Was I dead? Would I even know if I was?

I forgot once more until the voice brought me back. "I'm here, Jason," the voice echoed.

This time it was closer. It was distinctly feminine, but I couldn't place the slight accent even though she spoke perfect English.

"Where are you," I asked. I tried to turn my head to search the darkness; then I remembered I didn't have a head here. Right before the moment of forgetting, I scolded myself for thinking of my non-existent body and making myself forget once more. But this time, I didn't forget.

"I'm here with you, Jason," the voice echoed again. "The link is becoming stronger, and you are remembering."

"Link?" I asked, raising my non-existent eyebrow with the question.

"Yes. My link to you and you to me. It is how I have kept you safe," the voice continued.

I wasn't sure if the feminine voice was speaking English or if I now understood her language. I wasn't even sure if we were speaking at all. I was in a coma somewhere for all I knew, and this was some messed-up dream.

I ran my hands through my hair and gasped when I saw them. I wiggled my fingers in front of my face, and half expected them to vanish and to forget once more. But I didn't.

"I won't let you forget, Jason," the alluring voice said as if reading my mind.

"How do you know my name?" I asked.

"You told me, "She replied.

I wasn't sure when I had told her my name. Had it been one of the thousands of times I'd forgotten? I could have had this exact conversation each time I remembered, then forgotten it immediately. How long had this been going on? Then another memory came back to me.

"The alien?!" I gasped.

"Correct," the voice sounded amused. "Although I do have a name. You've just forgotten."

"Please, tell me your name. I won't forget it this time," I blurted out.

The memory of the alien encounter flooded my mind and everything else that happened that night. The robbery at work. The kiss from Amy. Speaking to my friend Doug and the police report. The late-night drive home and seeing the alien spacecraft for the first time. The white-haired man with the devious smile and the short but brutal fight between the alien and the black-uniformed soldiers. And finally, to being shot in the back.

"I am Shara'liana," the voice answered.

"Nice to meet you, Shara'liana," I replied, sounding out the strange name slowly so as not to get anything wrong. "Do you mind if I call you Shara?"

"The pleasure is mine Jason, and no, I do not mind," the voice replied, and I got the impression she was smiling.

"Am I dead?" I asked after a dozen seconds passed.

"No, not at all. You were badly wounded, but you are very much alive and mostly healed," Shara replied.

"Then where am I?" I asked.

"Physically you are in a cell similar to the one I am in. But as for where we are speaking, we are in a safe place I have created through a mind link between us," Shara replied, sounding a little like a professor lecturing her students.

"A safe place? Safe from what?" I asked, more than a little confused with her answer.

"A place for your mind to heal and for us to converse. A place where our captors cannot intrude on our conversations, and a place where I can help prepare you," Shara replied.

"Prepare me for what?" I asked.

"Escape," she said, the words echoing throughout the darkness.

The thought of escape hadn't even crossed my mind, and I didn't even realise I was a captive anywhere let alone where I was. The void hadn't felt like a cell. It felt safe and secure, and I almost didn't want to leave it.

Maybe I could just stay here.

"You cannot stay here," Shara said as if reading my mind.

"Can you read my thoughts?" I asked.

"Yes, but only here."

I should have felt worried about an alien from another planet reading my mind. But I didn't. I knew I had nothing to hide from the mystical being that brought me to this strange place, and I knew with certainty that she was my friend and would help me. Just like I knew I would help her. No matter what.

"So, how do we escape?" I asked.

"You need training, and we need to develop our bond. It will be easier now that you are well enough to become lucid in the link," Shara replied. "I've spent quite some time repairing your mind. But I was worried you might not ever become attuned to our link."

"How long have we been captive?" I asked, now walking around in the void. Or the link as Shara described it.

"It has been sixteen of your planet's days since I landed here," she replied.

"What the hell! I've been in here for over two weeks?!" I gasped. Had I been unconscious the entire time? It was hard to remember.

"Yes, your body has been unconscious for that time, but we have been in the link for longer. Time moves far quicker here, allowing your mind and, therefore, your body to heal much more effectively," Shara said without any emotion.

"How much quicker?"

"I estimate it to be about ten times faster than your planet's time," she said.

I was stunned at the information. Had I really been in here for nearly half a year? I seemed to remember waking up countless times and then forgetting it all again. It felt like I'd known Shara for months, but that wasn't possible. It had only been just over two weeks since that fateful night. My mind was reeling but I immediately understood the benefits of having this connection. I was in a time chamber right now and able to speak with this alien woman while the world outside moved ten times slower. That benefit wasn't lost on me, especially if we had to communicate at a great distance or form a plan. I could see why my new friend had kept me here until I was lucid enough to speak with her.

"Shara?" I asked the darkness.

"Yes?"

"Why can't I see you?"

"Because we are too far apart in the real world, and I am too weak right now," Shara replied.

"Can you see me?" I asked.

"No," she replied.

Then I realised for the first time that I had no idea what Shara looked like, only that she was humanoid. Humans had an odd fascination with aliens being those little green men with big black eyes. But the figure I'd seen was only a few inches shorter than me with human proportions. I hadn't noticed any feminine curves to her body under that suit she wore. But then again, I didn't know anything about her species. Maybe the men and women looked more alike than on my world.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked.

"We need to escape this facility," Shara said.

"How do we do that?" I asked. "I don't even know where we are."

"I have a plan, but I'm going to need your help," Shara's voice dimmed in the void.

"How can I help? I'm not a fighter. Hell, I can't even run very fast," I sighed, feeling useless and more than a little overwhelmed.

"Do not worry, Jason. I have spent a long time here with you, teaching your mind many things. You may not remember it all, but your body will," Shara explained.

"What do you mean?" I asked in confusion. I couldn't remember anything other than being shot. And the last few minutes of conversation with my new alien friend.

"I must go, and you must wake. He is coming for you. Trust your instincts and look for my signal," Shara's voice faded with each word until I had to strain my ears to hear the final words.

"What signal!" I yelled into the void, but there was no reply.

A sudden flash of light in the blackness burned my retinas, and I had to cover my eyes. I felt myself lying on my back, and the weightless feeling vanishing with the blinding light. I opened my eyes slowly and brought my hands up to my face to rub them. It felt like I'd been asleep for days, and I was finally waking with the emperor of all hangovers. My head throbbed with the pulse of my heart, and it felt like I'd washed my eyes out with sand.

"Good morning, Mr. Stone. It's about time you woke up."

I rubbed my eyes before sitting up and squinting into the brightly lit room. My vision was a tad blurry from being asleep for so long, and I felt dizzy. But I didn't feel like I'd been bedridden for two weeks. My arms moved without any issues, and I shifted the muscles in my legs to find they responded without protest. Was this something Shara had done? If it were, then whoever had taken us would likely want to know why I recovered so quickly. I decided to stay seated on the narrow bed to avoid any questions.

I finally looked about for the source of the voice and saw the white-haired man seated on a black folding chair beside the door. The room was about four metres squared with little furnishings. The bed I lay on, the chair the man sat on, and a toilet and sink combo in the corner. It looked like the prison cells I'd seen in movies, television shows, and documentaries. The large iron door with a peep-hole window also looked like something you'd see in a maximum-security jail.

"Where am I?" I asked the white-haired man.

"You are nowhere," he replied.

"What do you mean?" I asked with a confused look.

"Where you are technically doesn't exist," he shrugged. "Just remember that when you answer my questions. You've been missing for a while, Jason. Help me so I can help you return home."

I was probably in some sort of black-site facility that didn't exist on any records. Somewhere the laws of the government didn't apply to its citizens. I was surprised I wasn't just left for dead or executed and buried in an un-named grave somewhere. I took a wild guess that they didn't need me for anything in particular, but this man was at least curious enough about me to keep me alive.

"How long have I been here?"

Shara had told me, but I didn't want to let on that I had had contact with her. I was also interested to see if that conversation was real or just a crazy dream. I felt tired, and I'd already noticed I was a lot thinner than when I'd finished work all those nights ago. Not that I'd been super overweight. I preferred to think of myself as husky and un-sculpted.

"A little over two weeks," the man replied. His expression was so neutral, so calm, and I had no idea what was going on in his head as those piercing blue eyes studied me intently.

"Two weeks!" I said with surprisingly good mock surprise.

"Yes. You were badly injured when you interfered," he said.

"I was in a coma?" I asked, knowing the truth but wanting him to say it.

"Not exactly. You were in and out of consciousness for the first few days," he said. "But after that, you slept like you were dead. At times the doctors thought you were."

"Shit," I said under my breath.

I wasn't sure if I was fooling this man with my act. He gave no indication of his reactions, thoughts, or intentions towards me. If it wasn't for the jail cell and massive iron door, I never would have thought I was a prisoner.

"Please excuse my poor manners, Jason," he stood from his chair and extended his hand out to me. "My name is Marcus Gibson."

I took his outstretched hand in my own and shook it. His grip was solid and firm but not crushing. I realised my hands looked thin and weak in comparison. Almost skeletal.

"How have I survived?" I asked the obvious question as I looked over my scrawny hands and lifted my shirt to see my flabby stomach was now gone, and my ribs were showing through the skin.

"We've kept you alive with saline and liquid calorie solutions. You'll be feeling quite hungry by now," Marcus replied, giving me a fatherly smile that failed to put me at ease.

"Now that you mention it, I could eat a horse," I said. "Thank you for keeping me alive. I know you didn't have to."

"I'm sure we can figure out a way for you to repay my generosity," Marcus smiled, taking his seat once more.