The Traveller

By Trevor Lloyd

Tony Clarke is a science teacher who whilst searching for his dog came upon a craft of extra-terrestrial origin. From the moment he met the occupants his life changed and he became one of their agents; those agents took up the tasks to revolutionize the planet in the face of overwhelming odds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trevor Lloyd
• Release date: Apr 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533745460

Book preview

Prologue

For we met once more on the road far less travelled

Contents

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Chapter  Page

1The Lost Dog      5      2  The Lost Cause            14

3Meet, Greet and Deceit 21

4Holding the Reins 28

5New Day  33

6The Trial 37

7A Sporting Chance 41

8 Town Hall 46

9All Washed Up 50

10Whitehall   55

11Selling the Dream 66

12 Knave of Hearts 76

13Ministrations 81

14New Broom 82

15Je Me Souvienne 88

16Mindful 97

17Daydreams 102

18Rendezvous 107

19Decisions 113

20Starlight Starbright 115

21Deep Trouble  118

22Remember Hainan! 125

23Making Tracks 130

24End Game 133

25Vista  140

26Expulsion 146

27Fixation 149

28Wings    155

29Monkey Business 159

30Cold Trade 163

31The Text 165

32No Touching  168

33To and Fro 176   

List of Characters

Admiral Lunin Admiral of the Black Sea Fleet

Aichi Toma Prime Minister of Japan

Aleixandre Korolov Midshipman

Alphonse Demu President of Gabon

Artem Bilech First Secretary of the Russian Federation

Benning Hall presidential advisor

Brian Palmer Housing Manager

Brie Barnardian

Cathy Purnell Canadian First Lady

Christine Mellor Health and Housing Minister

David Cameron Prime Minister of Great Britain

Ellen Wilson HR Manager

Feliks Stronolov T99 Tank Commander

Florence Cameron daughter of David Cameron

France Caron Librarian

Graham Marston Prime Minister of New Zealand

Jagdev Singh Prime Minister of India

Jane Bonnet Koenig First Lady

Jason Hyde Designer at JPL Pasadena

Jemima Davenport Florence’s best friend

Jerry Purnell Canadian Prime Minister

John Kemp Land Agent

Kemal Beazler Turkish Leader

Kenneth Smith Government Scientist

Kevin Shale Transport and Communications Minister

King Charles

Marjorie Field Cabinet Secretary

Martin Hatch New Zealand Ambassador

Michael Cravetch Midshipman

Miss Penelope Streather Head Mistress of Thornton Road Primary School

Morris Foulks Captain of the Coldstream Guards

Neville Johnson Prime Minister of Great Britain 

Paul Tallis Captain of the Lovell

Peter Koenig President of the United States of America

Rabbi Jonathan Sacs British Head of Jewish Faith

Ricky Morgan Radio DJ

Rudd  GCHQ Cheltenham

Serge Levenov President of the Russian Federation

Shelley a much loved dog

Simpson GCHQ Cheltenham

Sir Frederick Grant Ambassador of Great Britain without portfolio

Stanley Pym Reporter

Steven Macready, the Prime Minister of Eire

Tony Clarke Science and Education Minister

Vera Blaine Prime Minister of Australia

Victor Solway Prime Minister of Australia

Vincente Mocamba Kenyan Prime Minister

Yuen Tung Mayor of Hong Kong

1 The Lost Dog

He was a on his way at last. His new car a small `island blue` Toyota Yaris registered that summer in 2014 lay in a colleague`s empty stable where he had put on his full Bergen type rucksack before setting off.  He’d promised himself that this camping trip would be his end of term reward, a mini break shared with his old hound Shelley.  Drawn by the adage the grass is always greener on the other side, he ventured on into the late afternoon until weariness beckoned. A hot drink was all he would need once his tent was set up so with practiced care a suitable site was selected and the trench latrine was dug, the fibre glass poles were assembled then fed into the canvas tunnels of his igloo tent, the ground however was quite firm and he was forced to use his mallet to fix the tent pegs into the solid earth; with a satisfying pop his portable gas stove ignited and the milk slowly simmered in the saucepan as it sat on the hob. He looked around and saw that the terrain was sparsely served by a copse at one end of a rectangular field of about 100 meters in length, 50 metres in width; he was at the other end of the field; where the wild landscape dipped into a sloped quarry.  Presently he was drawn back to his task by the sibilant hiss of boiling milk and with deft handling managed to stir tinned powder into his mug. No tea drinker he, favouring hot chocolate instead; he supped contentedly.  His dog Shelley, a comical German shepherd had finished marking and sniffing the surrounding area before submitting to his evening meal of meat and biscuits, companions again Shelley exhaled a satisfied mewl of agreement and languidly crossed his sizeable paws before resting his head on them.

Twelve years ago Anthony Gregory Clarke (Tony to his friends and Mr Clarke to his pupils) found Shelley as a puppy abandoned underneath an upturned boat at Porthallow beach on the Falmouth coast in Cornwall.  Ignoring the poet Percy Bish Shelley’s nomenclature the puppy was discovered playing with shells situated in the surrounding sand and he was simply named after them.  Clarke thoughtfully stroked behind his dog’s ear and knew instinctively that there wouldn’t be many more holiday excursions to look forward to with Shelley. Sorrowfully, he realised he would miss his canine friend deeply when his time came.   

Clarke had been a soldier in his younger life and had seen action against the Argentinean invaders on the Falkland Islands at Bluff Cove and Telegraph Hill in the late spring of 1982.  At 50 he was slim built and still carried his 5 foot 10 inch frame in an erect fashion, a habit from his marching days in the 6th Parachute Regiment.  His dark hair and eye colour were linked to his Welsh forebears but even so he was beginning to show definite signs of age with grey hair developing above his ears and a tendency to use glasses when reading.  After the Falklands War, Clarke had seen the way his country was headed with unemployment on the rise so he had enrolled at Birmingham University. Whilst reading Physics, under the assisted graduation placement for ex military personnel, he began to be interested in astronomy.  In fact he had met his late wife at an introductory class, a pretty blond whose singular view on the meaning of life was that it allowed the individual the privilege of witnessing as many new discoveries as possible. As students they grew to respect each other’s background his father had been a sheet metal worker her father was an electrical technician and although university life was busy they supported each other in their chosen fields and inevitably fell in love.  It was during graduation day that he proposed under ‘Old Joe’ the famous clock tower in the university grounds, which had been dedicated by Joseph Chamberlain - a famous son of Birmingham.

It was still a vivid memory, he had kneeled in his borrowed mortar board and gown with the tassel draping over his eyes as he looked seriously up at his beautiful partner and asked. "Will you marry me, Christine my love?

Christine laughed out loud at the tassel which was being blown over his earnest brow and then covered her mouth and gazed at his features.  Yes my love, I will.  She assured him.

That long warm summer made it easier to plan their future and they eventually married each other at a local church which had allowed Christine to be a ‘spinster of the parish’ before becoming an appealing June bride.

His M.A. in physics was achieved within eighteen months following his degree graduation and happy marriage to Christine.  Then later on whilst studying for a teacher training course he managed to secure a teaching post at Worcester senior school in the autumn semester of 1988. Together Tony and Christine Clarke had fun tackling the decorating chores of their married quarters and the strenuous but pleasurable gardening committed the Clarkes to their happy home. He taught Physics at O and A levels to classes of 25 at a 200 complement school and he counted himself fortunate that he was able to catch his learner’s early attention in such an interesting subject. His wife taught lunar observation and star mapping after school as extra curriculum subjects and he would often sit in on her classes enjoying the moments when they viewed the rings of Saturn and saw the Galilean moons of Jupiter; they were kindred spirits and always spoke of other solar systems harbouring life. Though their marriage had been childless they had both been happy with the number of keen pupils who were eager to learn, indulging them as a substitute family instead.

More painful to bear in mind, he had been horrified at the bewildering news of his wife’s death after her car was caught in a pile-up on a fogbound motorway in the Severn valley. She had been returning home from comet hunting at an observatory in Stroud and he had been preparing a welcome home meal with Chardonnay on ice when the telephone rang; it had been the local constabulary a woman asked his identity and thanked him, no explanation had been given at that point until a police sergeant had personally called and told him gently that his wife, Christine had been involved in a motorway pile up and that her body had been recovered from the crash scene, the police officer had asked him if he was able to identify his wife’s body and Clarke still unbelieving had accepted the lift without argument.  He still had hurtful memories of the broken corpse which had been crushed by the impact; still petite but lifeless as a rag doll, above all her eyes had remained open just as if she had been as startled at her sudden end as he had been; he knew instinctively that no one else would ever replace her, the thunderbolt of love had never diminished. That had been four years ago and thankfully he had kept himself busy burying himself in his work to relieve his sorrow, culminating in a field trip to Rome to visit the ESA Arianne rocket manufacturing plant last spring.

Eventually twilight turned to dusk and after cleaning up his cooking utensils he turned in for the night and lay on his unzipped sleeping bag for a bed.  He left the tent door partially unzipped so that Shelley could come and go at will and gradually succumbed to sleep. The following morning Clarke awoke alone, he was quite restored and glanced at his watch which read 06:41, Shelley was not in view but this was nothing unusual; he had been known to wander on his own for short periods before now. Putting on shorts, a sweater and a pair of plastic sandals known as crocs Clarke wasted no time and went about his ablutions and filled the solar shower before breakfasting on scrambled eggs on toast, hot chocolate and a few biscuits.  Next he did the washing up, shaved and stripped off for a shower, the early morning sun had obliged and heated the bag of water to tepid warmth. After towelling himself dry he donned the same shorts, a new tee shirt and kept his crocs on so that his feet would dry naturally once the morning dew had evaporated. And then he went to look for Shelley.

First off he walked in the direction of the tree line at the other end of the field and noticed that the birdsong got louder as he approached, he kept on walking in a straight line and felt the heat on his left die away as the tree canopy gradually blocked the sun.  The light appeared to shimmer as he passed through the forest under nature’s umbrella; branches and twigs snapped as he stepped onto the undergrowth.  His senses grew keener; he hadn’t felt like this since his days with 6th Para.  He turned his head to and fro to maintain his 360 degree vision and quartered the copse slowly, but still there was no sign of his dog.  Clarke didn’t panic, he noticed an ash tree near an old oak but kept his emotions in balance taking his time; and then he remembered an old saying, oak before ash you’re in for a splash ash before oak you’re in for a soak. It looked as though the oak had come to leaf before the ash so a relatively dry summer was on the cards. Eventually he emerged from the woodland and back into the field and strolled back to his camp.  The late morning sun was heading south forcing him to squint as he finally entered his tent and sat down to think. 

The dog had left the tent in the night, with a restlessness that belied his age.  Something was about and he feared for his master’s safety, his eyesight was not strong but his sense of smell never betrayed him and something smelled wrong.  A man stood away from the tent, he was taller than his master and pointed a stick, perhaps he wanted to throw the stick, and maybe he wanted to play.  Then a noise only audible to the dog assaulted his ears and he collapsed.

Clarke considered his next action and decided for some reason that this was a search and rescue mission and so he dressed accordingly, he would need better footwear for his trip into the quarry and something to carry a compass, binoculars and water etc.  He donned camouflaged trousers, jacket and laced his trekking boots. As per his military training he made sure nothing rattled or reflected in the sunlight.

He approached the edge of the field 20 metres from his camp and crab crawled to the edge; he could see that the sloping ramp of land to his right went down into the base of the quarry and that the quarry floor was flat and striated.  Clarke unhooked his 8x50 binoculars and looked through them for signs of Shelley.  Nothing was apparent apart from some flattened rocks leading to a shadowed overhang directly beneath him.  He backed off, reversing his crawl to camp and his training kicked in despite the anxiety he felt for his missing dog. He had been taught the S code many years before, learning never to reveal himself by his shape on the terrain or shine by reflection of equipment or to show himself on the edge of high ground to be at all times silent giving hand signals only and when necessary staying perfectly still, never to use strong soap or aftershave to betray his smell to others and being aware of his silhouette in front of moonlight or firelight.

Clarke took a swig of water and refilled his bottle so that the liquid wouldn’t slosh about during movement and headed down-slope to the quarry floor, loose shale rolled under foot and he took it steadily keeping his eyes on his foot work as he slowly descended toward the quarry bottom. The sun was in front of him now, casting a long shadow behind and he felt its heat on his face causing him to sweat.  Gradually, stumbling once in the process, he reached halfway and took a deep breath before continuing down the gradient keeping his concentration on one hesitant step after another, knowing that a broken ankle or leg at this stage, could lead to his demise; he shuffled the rest of the way with utmost care behaving as if he was crossing an ice covered pavement in the midst of winter.  His sense of achievement grew as he crept the last five metres to the end of the incline realising that it would be a less hazardous climb on his return and he stood and turned to look into the quarry workings immediately on his left.

His mouth opened into an O of incomprehension simultaneously the pupils in his irises grew in size comparable to a drug taker on a long established habit, and he momentarily fell to his knees.  Clarke closed his eyes took a bated breath and then opened them like a camera shutter and stared in mute fascination at a curved metallic structure in the space left in the earth workings.  He took a pace towards the structure and discerned its true shape compelling him to move closer "

My God" he uttered.

And continued in child like wonder. It’s a spaceship.

Come.

The metallic sounding voice rasped.

Come.  It repeated insistently.

A door to the ship’s side opened like an iris and deposited a sloped stairway very rapidly. Out walked a human with long blond hair, he stood at over six foot or two metres tall and was dressed in a white coverall and boots. His movement was confident and he was smiling like an all American linebacker on the winning team.

Clarke decided to keep it simple and prepared to run at the slightest threat.

Err hello I`m looking for my dog.  Blurted out .Clarke

Come, I have your dog.  Said the alien.   

Then he lowered his hand and out popped Shelley cantering down the stairs of the spaceship looking none the worse for wear.

Come. He said and gestured with a smile as Shelley licked Clarke’s hand in greeting.

Clarke went toward him.

Where have you come from? asked Clarke curiously.

I have come from your moon. Declared the alien in perfect but slightly accented English.

Then he went inside and returned holding a Hasselblad movie camera from the Apollo era as certain proof.

This was one of several left behind during the moon landings and if there was any way to develop the pictures it would be priceless as evidence. Thought Clarke.

Come in Tony Clarke. Ordered the alien.

He entered into a seated area a where a similarly uniformed blond woman was making notes with a stylus on a pad; she was just under six foot and she smiled.

The linebacker asked him to sit and he explained.   

"To begin, my name is Dail and she is Brii. We come from a close red dwarf system, roughly six light years distant which you know as Barnard’s Star. Your astronomers discovered it in 1916 and before that it was unknown on your world.

We were aware of your thoughts last night concerning your dog and as a gesture of kindness we arrested Shelley’s aging process. It means that he will appear and feel younger as his genes replace themselves more efficiently and as a consequence he will live considerably longer."

Clarke guessed correctly that the aliens had learned his name by reading his thoughts last night while he looked at Shelley and realised that the strain of age had left his face and that he held himself altogether straighter.

We would like to offer this gift to you. We have determined that you have an ingrown toenail, loose fillings, missing teeth and have developed aches and pains in your body joints.

Clarke nodded and Dail took his arm beckoning to a sunken bed. He stretched out while Brii approached and inserted a chip into the bed device.  An array of light played over his body and Clarke relaxed, his eyelids grew heavy and he went to sleep. He had been unconscious for about 20 minutes or so and awoke revived.  Dail and Brii observed him and then smiled.

You will not age and you will appear to be at least 5 years younger than your 50 years.

Clarke experienced a feeling of vitality in his body that he hadn’t felt in years.

We have also made you clean shaven.

He didn’t mind.

Then he said something which made him raise his eyebrows.

Most of our agents are. Then he paused for moment and decided. We would like to put to you a proposition."

Clarke nodded.

We have numerous people on this planet who act as agents. As part of the group you will have some leanings toward science and this is good because we would like to develop science based societies in the influential nations.

I see. Said Clarke, not really seeing at all.

We will offer you the means to an independent life. Dail stood up and Clarke followed him out of the ship. They walked back to his tent.  The climb up the slope was relatively easy because Tony felt in good shape.  Shelley had romped up like a dog in a `Winalot` advert. 

You will buy this area of land and build your house here.

He handed Tony something that looked like a tiny memory chip.

This is a shem. Your abode will be created according to the housing template on the shem. It will tap into zero-point energy and have no running costs.

Clarke felt as if it was his birthday.

Come to us when the sun is at its meridian again and I will explain more.  Said Dail mysteriously.

Then he returned to his ship; his agile limbs swung easily with a long gait and his body rapidly disappeared as he returned down the slope to the quarry. 

Clarke looked at the field in a new light. He must have liked this meadow in the first place and could feel at home here; he accepted the fact that he would make it into his home.  He couldn’t help smiling to himself and at his dog.  He felt more agile as he ran, jumped and skipped without error and noticed his dog follow in an easy trot and then on impulse like a youth Clarke selected a stick and threw it in a long hyperbolic arc toward the tree end of the field and jogged