About Z

By Don L Clark

A college professor stumbles onto a lovely alien woman who has crashed on earth. He takes her back to Bozeman Montana where the two become a pair and she, using her unique skills, saves the First Lady, helps the CIA and the local cops, befriend a media mogul implicated in his wife's death and finally end up in a struggle against an evil messenger from her homeland.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Don L Clark
• Release date: Sep 30, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458060723

Don L Clark

Mr. Clark is a retired USAF colonel and college professor/administrator. During his USAF career he primarily worked in Intelligence and also served as a military attache in the USSR and on the Joint Staff where he provided military imput into strategic international negotiations such as SALT. MBFR, Laws of the Sea, etc. He has a third degree black belt in Juo and taught courses at Montana State University in International Affairs (how to get a date in Paris).For sseveral years he wrote weekly newspaper columns about international affairs entitled "Hither and Yon" and excerpts from it were occasionally exceprted on Voice of America.Mr. Clark's novels are all action/adventure types in several settings ranging from Texas rangers who team up with a Chinese female assassin back in the late 1800's (Yala) to what UN Peace making force might be like by the year 2030 (Sunday in Sudan.) All of his novels are intended for adults and all include some sexual implications as well as proffer what he thinks would be better ways for the USA to deal with the problems it is facing globally and internally today.His novel Yala was nominated for (but did not win) an international Frankfurt Award for e-booksBesides writing he currently engages as a CASA volunteer. His one foray as an author into non-fiction is "A Fix for America" in which he proffers moderate soultions for all of the major issues dividing this nation.

Book preview

PART ONE

Z OF HUYLIP

CHAPTER ONE

LIGHTENING BOLT?

Entranced by the crisp beauty of the early summer morning scenery, Tom walked down to the lake shore to catch his breakfast. Man, do I feel sorry for Cam and Billy for having to miss this, he thought. The sunshine always seems more brilliant up here in the Crazies. As the college professor approached the shoreline, however, an unexpected sight caused him to slow his pace. Is that someone laying down there on the edge of the lake? He wondered.

Tom didn't want to be around people. That's why he'd hiked up into the remote Crazy Mountains: to commune with nature and regenerate his enthusiasm for his work and life. He changed his angle of approach to the lake a bit to the west so as to avoid having to share this pristine spot with another human. Damn! He cursed under his breath and then rambled on to himself. I've stayed up here for days this time of the year without seeing another soul. Don't tell me the population density's growing up here as fast as it is in town. I hope that guy's not part of a big group. Well, hell, if he is I'll just pull up stakes and climb on up to the upper lake after breakfast.

But just as he made that mini-alteration to his path, the angle between the sun and Tom changed just enough so that the figure lying on the ground came into sharper focus. Tom now realized that the person was naked. Indeed, he was also pretty sure he spied a bosom, and there was something disturbing about the way she—if that was a bosom—was reclining there. The body posture suggested that the person might not be sunbathing, as had been the professor's initial impression, but that she might have fallen there. It even looked as if she might be unconscious.

Tom stopped and stared, placing his right hand up to his forehead to try and shade his eyes from the bright glare of that nearby sun. Indeed, old Sol actually was warmer and brighter at the almost seven thousand feet altitude to which he'd climbed the evening before. Reluctantly, the would-be-fisherman decided he was obligated to approach that body and insure that it wasn't someone who needed assistance. His reluctance was primarily predicated on the fact he simply did not want to sacrifice any of his precious relaxation time—even if it was spent doing the right thing. Additionally, since that possible bosom also looked bare, Tom didn't want to make some strange female angry by intruding on her privacy or acting like a gawking bozo—if she was just sunbathing after all.

Ten feet away from the body, Tom began to have second thoughts about its gender. He began to realize it was a very powerful appearing body. Third thoughts also sprung up when, in spite of the glare of the sun, he also began to suspect that her clothing had not been shucked normally. There definitely seemed to be some remnants of it clinging to a few parts of her body. He could see shards and pieces that suggested the materials had been ripped off or even burned off of her rather than just removed.

Jesus! Tom thought. Could that lightning bolt I heard early this morning have struck her—him? He stepped forward again with a little more purpose to his step and called out. Mam, are you OK? I don't mean to surprise or bother you but…but have you been injured?

There was no answer—no movement. Damn! Tom cursed again. He strode up to the prostrate body without hesitation now, speaking out loudly all the way to its side. In essence, his talking was designed to assure the stranger that he was not trying to sneak up on her—or him. Mam–Sir? Are you injured? If you're sunbathing, I think you've overdone it. The altitude up here makes one's skin quite vulnerable to skin burn, and yours is looking pretty red in spots.

But red was not really the dominant color that leapt into Tom's consciousness as he stared down at the body now almost directly below him. Whiteness was the more operative word—for this creature was exceptionally white. She/it was almost albino white except where the sun was beaming down on her. There, but only there, the sun god's bright rays had turned her primary whiteness into dark pink and red. And yes, damn it—she was definitely almost totally naked and it did look as if she'd fallen.

The body was lying mostly on its stomach with the head turned slightly to the left and resting on top of the left arm—which looked limp and lifeless. The right hand was lying flat on the ground—palm down. It was bent at the elbow as if it had been used to try and push the person up off the ground but then collapsed in the process. The person's left leg lay straight and very near to the edge of the shoreline. The right leg was bent much like the right arm—as if it, too, had tried to push up off the ground but had not been up to the task.

Lightening? Tom puzzled; I don't know. There's no sign that her body's been burned that bad, yet clearly her clothes look as if they've been sheared off. But how could that have happened without also burning her skin? This is weird. Tom’s breaths were coming faster than normal. He recognized it and took a couple of deeper ones before his examination continued. Plus there's no indication on the ground around here that something like a lightning bolt struck, he concluded. Tom had previously observed lightening strike areas in the woods, and there had always been more extensive signs of a calamity than he saw here.

Frustrated, the nervous camper made one last effort to get a response from the body he now feared might be that of a dead person. Mam—can you hear me? Are you all right, Mam? Were you struck by lightning? He saw no sign of breathing by her but could definitely feel and perhaps even hear his own heartbeats. He had also concluded that indeed the body was that of an exceptionally powerful looking female.

He was now speaking almost directly into her ear, but his eyes were scanning the whole shape of her body from head to toes looking for wounds or signs of breath or heartbeat. Tom's rationality was wrestling with the facts that confronted him. Denial was trying to will her into being a mere sleeping beauty but the cold hard facts belied that wish.

Damn! The frustrated professor muttered for what seemed the umpteenth time. I'm going to have to hike back down that trail, drive into Big Timber and seek some help. It was quite an attractive body he was examining. She appeared tall—at least five-ten or more, he guessed. But then while studying her head the doubts about the body’s gender again came rushing back into his mind. That’s a very bald head, Tombo, he noted. You'd have to shave it to keep it that bare. Not many women shave their heads, do they? And isn't it larger than most? Then again, maybe the baldness makes it appear bigger than it is, he postulated. Didn't Yul Brynner seem to have an exceptionally large head in that movie about the king with all the kids?

At that point it sunk into Tom's brain that as far as he could tell there was a total absence of hair anywhere on this body. He spied shards of cloth clinging to it here and there and little matted strips of a faded blue synthetic material on the ground nearby. One of her feet also had a gnarly piece of leather clinging to it that looked like the remnants of a melted sandal, but her other foot was completely bare.

Be careful, Dr. Jefferson, a little voice nagged its way into the tense male's consciousness. You could become a suspect in a murder if you do something stupid here? See, I told you to buy a cell-phone before you came up here alone. Yeah, Tom decided, this certainly settles that debate; I'm gonna buy one of those damn contraptions first thing when I get home.

Nervous thoughts, cowardly and clearly wrong thoughts now intruded into his brain. Should I just move on up to those higher lakes and pretend I never saw her? But wait a minute; if this is a female surely she must be up here with someone. Why not just let them worry about her? OK, but if there is someone else shouldn't I call out to them? He started to do just that when another thought—a scarier one, popped into his mind and stifled the call. What if the person who came up here with her is also the one who killed her?

Tom was thoroughly confused about what to do. Rejecting all of the above thoughts, he very softly placed his hand on the body's right shoulder and shook it gently. It was warm, but he was not sure if that was a sign of life or just a product of the beaming sunshine. Can I help you, Mam? Are you OK? Besides speaking he was now trying to recall the steps involved in rendering first aid to an unconscious person. Does one check for a pulse or breathing first? He tried to remember his long ago Marine training. He shook the shoulder a second time—resisting the unsettling conclusion that he'd stumbled onto a dead body.

Suddenly, or did it just seem sudden to a very nervous camper—the body moved. The unexpected action unnerved Tom so much he almost jumped out of his skin.

Then her head came up off the ground, or more accurately off the arm on which it had been resting. A woman, definitely a woman, rolled over onto her back and stared up at Tom with the biggest-darkest eyes he'd ever seen. Indeed, hers seemed to seize his even as she said nothing. Slowly and with obvious difficulty she sat up—all the while with her eyes still locked on Tom's.

There's plenty of life there all right, the professor realized. Her hands came off the ground and clasped together in her lap. She was clearly not embarrassed by her state of near total nakedness. Then again, Tom figured, maybe she was just so addled she was unaware of her lack of clothing. Well, one thing’s for sure, his mind shouted at him, there's no longer any doubt about gender. Those are definitely female breasts all right. They were quite large, yet not oversized because they were attached to a broad and unusually thick chest. Her body was very athletic appearing, Tom thought. He unconsciously visualized it being used in one of those power bar commercials.

Tom expected her to say something but she did not. She just stared at him as if that was all that was necessary in order to communicate. He spoke again, a bit timidly since he was aware of his obvious admiration of her nude body. In fact, he was gawking at her total bareness. He also spoke hesitantly because her hypnotizing gaze somewhat intimidated him. It almost warned him not to break the silence.

I hope I didn't just interrupt a sunbathing session, Miss, but I was afraid you'd been hurt. You didn't respond when I spoke several times from afar so I...I…are you OK?

The woman gazed at him even steadier, if that was possible. It was a look with a mission—as if she was dissecting him—reading him—x-raying him.

God, she's pretty, Tom thought, and as that thought registered on his brain he noted a flicker of a smile appear ever so slightly on her lips. Those are the biggest and blackest visual orbs I've ever laid eyes on in my life, he instinctively registered. She now reminded him of one of those contemporary comic book heroines.

Tom tried once more to break the awkward silence. Well, it was awkward to him anyway. Forgive me, Miss, but do you need assistance or don't you? Hey, maybe you can't hear? Is that it? Sometimes a lightning strike does that. He placed his right hand behind his trying to impart the question can you hear?

Tom then shouted out quite loudly. ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? WERE YOU HIT BY LIGHTENING? I HEARD A BLAST EARLY THIS MORNING.

The woman's tense eye contact continued—unwavering. She seemed to ignore his shouting although ever so slowly a smug smile crept over her face. Tom had the feeling his staring and shouting made him seem like a Nerd to her.

But ever so slowly it dawned on the questioner that he alone seemed confused by their standoff. Her expression was one of concentration rather than apprehension or perplexity. Tom tried out Spanish and German on her before he went back to English. I've got a campsite up there a couple of hundred yards. I've got extra clothing, sun guard, food, and a first aid kit. Where's your campsite? Can I go get your partners? You really should get out of the sun with that light skin of yours. It can cause skin cancer, you know?

But she just continued to ignore his words with her eyes locked onto his. The only change of expression she generated was to occasionally squint as if trying very hard to focus her mind.

Then the realization hit Tom's brain that it wasn’t her eyebrows that had knitted—she didn’t have any. There were lashes but no brows. In fact, there was no visible hair anywhere on her body. Even down there—in that place where he knew he ought not to be glancing.

Tom had about reached the limit to his patience. Look, lady, I was on my way down here to catch my breakfast when I saw you and thought maybe you were injured or something. You look OK now so if you don't want to talk, I'll just go on up shore and do my thing. But if you're still here when I come back, I warn you, I'm gonna at least go get you some clothes.

The stare continued—nothing else. So, Tom shrugged his shoulders, turned on his heel and strode away from her, albeit reluctantly. As he turned the realization hit him that she was probably the most spectacularly beautiful woman he'd ever seen and leaving her was going to be difficult. Except that remaining there with no communication beyond that stare was even worse—for that was proving downright excruciating. So, Tom walked away, his mind whirling with thoughts and questions about her appearance, sanity and safety. Tom took four steps before she spoke.

Please—don't—leave. The words were spoken hesitantly, as if she were unsure of their pronunciation, even though they came out almost perfectly—almost exactly as Tom would have said them. They were uttered in an extremely deep voice that was both masculine and yet somehow simultaneously seductively female.

Tom stopped and turned back in her direction. He smiled his most charming smile. "Hey, you can speak. I was really getting frustrated. If you're embarrassed by your lack of clothing, please don't be. I'll go get you some. You really do have nasty sunburn, and you were hit by lightening—weren't you?"

"Please—don't—speak—yet. Confuses me. Just stand there—for—a—bit—longer. And please think whatever you—you wish. This sentence was actually spoken a little faster than her first one had been, but still not at normal conversational speed. I'm just learning your…your language," she added, almost as if it were an afterthought.

Tom responded, And quite well but....

The mystery woman's hand covered her mouth, signaling for Tom not to speak. But unlike an American she'd placed the back of her rather large hand over her lips rather than just the inside or side of a finger or two. She bounced the hand a couple of times against her lips.

As instructed, Tom just stood and stared even though his brain remained quite active. Do you suppose she's had radiation treatment and all her hair fell out? He speculated. Or could the lightning bolt have done that to her, and she doesn't even realize it? Poor girl, why is she staring at me so intently? She said she was learning my language. Surely she didn't mean right now. God, I feel as if she's draining my brain. Is that what she meant? Is this some weird science fiction scenario? Man, I can't take much more of this.

But he did—for about another forty-five seconds Tom stood in front of her almost transfixed—even though he felt befuddled and showed it by shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other.

At last, the woman stood up and said, Thank you. I think I have enough words now. You’re very kind and I am, I think, not injured. I tried to tell you that earlier and thought you were rude since you would not quit talking long enough to hear my thoughts. But you can't read thoughts, can you?

Tom decided instantly that she was even more breathtakingly gorgeous standing than she had been as a sitter. Mind reading, no, that's not an art I've had much success with. He replied awkwardly. "And if you're doing it to me, I’m rather embarrassed. What happened to you—to your clothing?" Tom smiled a nervous grin and emitted that awkward laugh we all use but wish we hadn’t when we’re uneasy. He was anxious because if she could read the thoughts he was having about her—well, that would definitely be embarrassing to say the least.

"I was struck; I guess one might say and by an electrical flash, but I don't think it was lightening. It seems my clothing did not survive the explosion as well as my body." It was clear she knew what she was saying for she accompanied her words with a glance down at her breasts and a motion with her hands that swept all the way up and down her virtually bare torso.

I'm very sore, she went on, "but everything about me seems intact and working. Apparently I was so exhausted from the experience that I either passed out or was sleeping the sleep of the very weary. Very weary, do those words go together properly? I got them from different places in your mind."

Tom looked puzzled. Are you pulling my leg?

"You wish to ask if I was...teasing you?" She hesitated on the word teasing, as if she was not absolutely sure it was the correct choice. "Oh, I see—that’s what pulling a leg means, but than what do you say for this." She bent her right leg, put her right hand just below the knee cap and pulled up on it.

Tom laughed. He was slow in answering her because of the chuckle, but even more so because he was amazed by how with each spoken word her English seemed to improve. She was gaining confidence in the language with lightening fast speed.

"That's also called pulling a leg, he answered. The context clarifies the meaning."

"I think I understand. You must have a very advanced language here on earth. Please do not be embarrassed by your thoughts. I find them quite complimentary. It appears my skull is larger than yours, and if you're typical my eyes are also bigger and set deeper. As for my lack of hair, it is my natural state. It was not caused by radiation or lightning bolts. Where are we?"

Now Tom was really taken aback. He'd not verbalized some of the thoughts to which she had just responded. Could she really be reading his mind? You really don’t know where you are? He asked—feeling extremely awkward.

I'm afraid that's so.

But how could you be here if you didn't come deliberately? This is the Crazy Mountains—in boondocks Montana—USA. Are you a foreigner?

I am definitely a foreigner. The woman laughed a bit self-consciously. This is not part of China?

Now Tom was the one laughing, also self-consciously. China—no way; are you sure you aren't confused? I'm afraid that lightening, explosion, or whatever it was that struck you may have addled you more than you think. You're nowhere near China. Where's your campsite? Let me help you get back to it, or go get your companions and bring them back to help you.

"Companions, oh, how I wish that you could, but if we are where you say we are, I'm afraid I am definitely without companions."

How could you have gotten here if you don't even know where it is? I think you better lay down. You may have a concussion or something that's very seriously affecting you mentally. Why don't I carry you over to the shade of one of those trees up there and let you rest while I go get you some clothing and some sun guard from my backpack?

"You're very kind, and I guess I could use the clothing. I think I am starting to feel the effects of your...your sun. That's what you call it—that bright ball up there? She pointed in the direction of the sun. Where did it come from? Earlier it was so dark here, except for that other white ball. Where did it go? The captivating woman looked genuinely confused but pressed on. It would seem unnecessary for you to carry me. I really feel quite well—sore and tired, perhaps but not at all addled. Wasn't that the word you used?"

Trust me, lady, it's always better to be safe than sorry?

OK, I'll let you help me walk over to the trees then. Do you really think I should let you carry me after all those titillating thoughts of yours? She flashed another guileful smile and then added. See, I can pull leg too.

She let Tom serve as a crutch as they walked up from the shoreline about thirty yards to a clump of trees. There, she sat down, tiredly laying her head back against a tree trunk.

You have a name? She asked.

Tom Jefferson.

Thank you, Tom Jefferson. You're very kind. That's a quaint name.

Quaint? That's a new reaction to it. What's yours?

"I guess in your language it would most accurately be sounded as...Z."

Z-e-e or Z-e-a? Tom spelled out the two versions of the sound she had used.

"I would say just Z."

That's it? No other names? Where are you from?

Yes, as far as I can tell in your language my name would need only that one letter. In mine it calls for four. It’s my only name. Almost all of my people have only one name. That is why I found your use of two names so unusual. I’m from Huylip. Does that mean anything to you?

Sorry, afraid not. I thought I was pretty well informed about the world but that's a new one to me. Is it one of those new African nations? You don't look African.

I don't know Africa. I just know China and not much about it. Perhaps after you get me some clothes we can discuss this place and Huylip in more detail.

Of course, I'm sorry. I'll be right back. Are you hungry?

Not really—perhaps later. It just feels good right now to sit and relax, to think and not feel so alone.

I'll be right back. Tom left her. He broke into a slow jog up the incline towards his camp. He was thinking about what to bring back to her, but as he progressed up the hill he began to reconsider some of the things this strange woman had said. His reflections raised suspicions.

Am I being set up here? He thought. Could Cam and Billy have something to do with this? Is this why they both backed out of this trip at the last minute? Who in the hell ever heard of Huylip? And no one can learn a language in a few minutes. How could she not know where she is? On the other hand, it sure appeared as if she read my mind—or did she? It could have been just cleverly calculated planning? I mean, after looking at her any guy's initial reaction would be to think about her breasts—or those incredible eyes and her bald head. It wouldn't take a mind reader to guess that. And Billy and Cam know me well enough to prep her as to how I would react. I smell a rat—in fact, two rats.

CHAPTER TWO

A MESMERIZING TALE

At his campsite Tom went straight to his backpack and dug out a synthetic warm up suit in his university's blue and gold colors. He figured that with its cuffs and zippers it would fit Z without smothering her. He also fished out an old pair of Nike running shoes which he toted around for fording rivers. He tried to remember how big her feet were and was a bit embarrassed by the fact that he couldn't recall them at all. Too many distractions, he laughed. I'm referring, of course, to my worry that she might be dead or seriously injured, he kidded himself.

On second thought, I think I'll wear these Nikes and let her wear my Tevas, he decided. With the Velcro straps the sport sandals can be more readily adjusted to her feet. He sat down and put on the Nikes. Delving back into the backpack he pulled out a tube of sunscreen, a jar of Vaseline and a baseball cap with the Montana State Bobcat logo on it. He always kept an extra hat or two on hand so that he could dump the original after sudden rain storms or in case he got upended in the lake and his headgear became soaking wet.

Tom hovered over his stash a few additional seconds trying to think what else he might have in there that she could use. When the light came on in his most thoughtful brain cell, he added a plastic water bottle and a spare pair of sun glasses before he stood up to leave the camp. Then he paused and looked around the area, searching for signs that someone else might have been there. The someones he had in mind were his two buddies—pals who owed him one after the last practical joke he'd pulled on them.

Cam! Billy! Come on out. Tom shouted but not very loud so that Z wouldn’t hear him down below. It's a pretty good trick but I'm wise already. He wasn't though. He was just testing the water and had done so not very robustly because he wasn't yet totally convinced that Z was part of a scam.

The perplexed camper walked back down the hill toward Z more slowly than he'd left her. He was thinking of questions that could test her veracity while debating with himself as to whether or not she was part of a con. Where’s this game headed? He wondered. It looks to me as if she's going to try and tell me she dropped out of a flying saucer or something. Those alleged friends of mine both know I follow flying saucer stories with gusto—even if it is tempered with doubt.

When he came within sight of the woman again though Tom realized their relationship could also be headed in another way. For his blood pressure definitely