Oh No You Don't!

By Arwen Jayne

So her boss wants her to stay behind late on Friday to finish work he should have been around in the afternoon to give her. Same old, same old. But her supervisor's about to realize Terri's no walk over. Terri's got friends. Friends who couldn't care less that she's got some strange inability to touch anything electronic without first donning a pair of EMF protective gloves. Off work she's either in her radio shack, cruising the airwaves or down at the local pub enjoying her favorite cider and chatting with her friends. What could go wrong? Aliens, a vengeful madman on the loose, shifting dimensions and the sun's about to have a glitch. Hmm, let me see.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arwen Jayne
• Release date: Aug 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005103385

Arwen Jayne

My passion is writing paranormal fantasy romance with a metaphysical twist. When I'm not writing I'm either reading other people's romance and erotica novels, gardening or learning about the myriad of things that interest me: meditation, brain change, metaphysics, linguistics, genetics, myths, magic and the odd bit of science and engineering.

Book preview

Oh no you don’t!

Arwen Jayne

Copyright © 2020 Arwen Jayne

All rights reserved

Disclaimer

While reference has been made to some actual historical events or persons and some real locations all other names, characters and places are fictional; the product of the author's overly imaginative mind. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or places is purely coincidental.

This is a piece of fiction, enjoy it but if you’re looking for science facts you might find it lacking. The story is purely a creation of my imagination.

In memory of two special Welshmen

In memory of a special person who taught me that if you want to do something you can find a way to learn how. From his early life in Wales, learning how to make radios during the war, using crystals and wire, to having his own amateur radio station, building up computers from salvaged parts and making his own radio programs for community and National radio. This from someone who was three parts deaf due to an infection in his childhood. I imagine he would have been thrilled if he’d ever contacted an alien on the airwaves.

In memory, also, of a particular Welsh unionist I worked with for some ten years while I was in the television industry. He died a few years back. I hope somewhere in the universe he is having a chuckle and approves.

Acknowledgements

To my good friend and indispensable editor Jen, an adult literacy advocate who walks the talk, improving my grammar, giving me feedback on the draft stories and this time round co-writing the court scene. I know nothing of the legal side so I fleshed out a basic plot for that scene and back came a finished piece that fitted seamlessly into the story.

Cover photo credit

Many thanks to Alain Seigné for the spectacular cover photo. You can find Alain Seigné’s art at https://www.instagram.com/alainsphotographe/  on Instagram or on his website https://alain-seigne-photographe.fr

1

Friday. Five minutes to five pm. Any minute now. Wait for it. Bending down I picked up my handbag from under my desk. As I straightened there he was. My nemesis. Robert, I acknowledged courteously, knowing what was coming.

I'm sorry to do this to you Terri but some urgent correspondence has just come in. Could you do up a reply before you go?

No.

Robert froze, confusion etching his face, Pardon?

If you're referring to the file that's been in your in-tray since before lunch, no, I'm not staying behind. You do this every week. If you'd been here at all this afternoon you’d have seen it but no, you were in an ‘important meeting’ weren't you?

Robert smiled benignly, as if he had me on that point, You know I was. You have access to my diary.

I'd been waiting for just this moment. Phone in hand I pulled up the security footage the local publican had sent me. I hit play and showed it to Robert, right at the moment he started to get all kissy and cuddly with a lunch date I didn't recognize. Your important meeting I take it?

Robert’s face paled then rapidly turned bright puce. You spied on me. I'll have you sacked for this.

I shrugged my shoulders, I can't exactly be to blame if someone doesn't like you and decided to send me this footage. I neglected to say it was from the bar's security camera. That I'd asked Bill, who owned the bar, to keep a casual lookout if he saw my supervisor on Friday afternoons when he was notoriously in ‘important meetings’. It turned out that Robert was a regular customer and always offhand with Bill, like Bill was his personal servant and should give him special treatment.

Robert paled again, uncertain but prepared to go on the offensive. Then that footage is none of your business. I demand you delete it from your phone right now! He raised his voice but this only  attracted a larger audience.

The CEO, Dan Sutton, who'd stepped out of his office to see what was going on, held out his hand, Let me see.

Terri! Robert now pleaded with sheer panic in his eyes. But I couldn't very well deny a direct request from the CEO, could I? Would he decide to delete it and cover for Robert? I had no way of knowing. I handed the phone over.

As Dan watched the video apparently it was his turn to go red in the face. That's my wife, he declared in a shocked whisper.

Oh hell, this I hadn't anticipated, Um, borrow the phone if you wish Dan. I'd just like to go home. And the correspondence Robert's worrying about, I dealt with it hours ago. The draft's in his email and I sent you a copy. Not that the letter seemed to be anyone's priority now.

The boss handed the phone back to me. Just send me a copy of that video before you go for the weekend Terri, would you please. Robert, in my office. Now!

I left them to it, quickly doing a forward of the video as requested. Guilt assailed me now. It had only been my intention to put a stop to Robert's Friday afternoon lack of consideration but it appeared I'd stepped into a whole bigger pile of poo. I had to wonder if I'd even have a job come Monday but I'd promised myself that I wouldn't let fear stop me teaching Robert a lesson. It was the right thing to do. I was by no means the only one whose life he'd gleefully tried to make a misery. I'd only been working for the company for a few weeks since Robert's last secretary had resigned. A little digging and I’d found out why she'd left. He’d start with simple innocuous requests and once he thought he had your trust he’d start with the less reasonable. I'd let his late on Friday emergencies ride for a couple of weeks while I watched him and gathered my facts. I hadn't been sure of how much of an issue I could make of it, whether in fact, anyone would listen to me at all. It was an idle conversation with Barman Bill, who I do get on with, that had given me what I needed. Robert had been going to the bar every Friday afternoon like clockwork, silly boy. And he'd been seen with a pretty middle-aged blond.

As I turned to leave, I was surprised to see all my coworkers still there. It was well after five. Shirley was the first to step forward, pride for me in her eyes, Thank you, thank you, thank you. I wasn’t in a position to do what you did. I have two small kids and a mortgage. I couldn't risk it.

Next was Dirk, business card in hand, If they're too stupid to keep you on after this my brother is looking for an office administrator and he sure doesn't mind a woman with a bit of get up and go.

Thanks, Dirk, I accepted the card graciously, I may need it.

Gareth Davies, the shop steward, shook his head and pushed in front of the others, The union has your back, Terri. If they want to pick a fight with you they'll have all the union members to contend with too.

Hear hear, I heard several voices of agreement.

I was taken aback. I hadn't expected this, I don't know what to say to you all. Thanks.

Just go and have a good weekend Terri and don't you worry ‘bout a thing. Whatever happens we'll see you right.

A warmth filled my solar plexus, a certainty. In that moment I knew they really would be there for me.

The ride home on my mountain bike helped to settle the remaining adrenaline in my system. Had I been scared facing down Robert? You bet. Would I do it again? Yes, in a heartbeat. These days the world was too full of people getting away with being assholes because they knew most were too polite or too powerless to do anything about them.

My one woman crusade had started way back in high school when a particular sleazeball of a teacher would work his way around the prettiest of the year ten physics class, casually placing his unwelcome hands on places no teacher should. He tried it with me. Trained in self defence by my military dad I reacted on reflex, turned and kneed him where it hurt. As he doubled over in pain I'd made a very lackluster apology. Sorry Sir, I didn't see you there. I just felt someone wiping their hands on me and reacted. You know there’s a towel over by the sink if your hands are sweaty. The whole class had erupted in stitches of laughter and that was the last we saw of him. He went off on stress leave and never returned. Of course I'd been reprimanded by the headmistress for injuring a teacher but rather than expell me she'd been sympathetic to my cause, Just next time come to me first.

Yes Ms Marshall. I still remembered her smile of quiet approval. She couldn't openly endorse what I'd done but she wasn’t sad about it either.

My pushbike ride home was a pleasant one, mostly on the flat. Nearly everything was flat on the Western side of the Great Dividing Range. I hardly even worked up a sweat in the late afternoon sun. The so-called city I lived in wasn't actually that big. The central business district gave way to a thin rim of suburbs with their recently built McMansions; large brick houses that took up most of the block they sat on. Nearly all with a second story and a twin garage for the token BMW or Audi and the ‘show I've made it’ boat that rarely, if ever, saw water. It was a sign of the affluence the city had enjoyed since it had become an industrial hub.

Me? I preferred the smell of gum leaves on a hot afternoon. I adored my resident family of apostle birds and the two rare parrots that inhabited a hole in the gnarly old dead wattle tree behind my post world war two weatherboard bungalow. The double block I'd inherited from my dad afforded me a modest amount of privacy and enough distance from the neighbors that my radio antennas didn't broadcast a signal into their TVs and radios. Speaking of which, if I just grabbed a quick snack I could retire early to my radio shack out on the old porch and lose myself in surfing the frequencies for new and interesting people to chat with as well as my regular contacts.

I ran my hand over a patch of wall where I'd wired in an electric circuit. No, not legally wired but don't tell anyone. There are strict electrical codes for buildings and heavy fines for any uncertified electricians caught doing their own wiring. But the radio shack isn't on the grid. Isolated from the circuits the house used, my shack instead is powered by solar, wind and me. Yes, curious isn't it? By some unknown accident of nature, my body generates its own excess bioelectricity. If it builds up too much my hands start tingling with an electrical prickle that can zap people with static, fry my toaster or send me spiralling into a crippling migraine. Nothing like the feeling of a hot blade being shoved into your eye or head to motivate you to look for a cause and a cure. There was no cure. Some doctors suggested, with a kindly or condescending smile, that it was all in my mind. Others suggested bucket loads of very expensive or nasty medication fraught with worse side effects than the actual problem.

It had been a practitioner of Taoism who'd finally given me my first clues on managing it. Use it. So when I ran my hand over that part of the wall, with the circuit I’d installed my electricity threw a switch, turning on the lights and the power to my equipment. It was the first thing I had learned to do with it. The second was on a bench, awaiting my daily practice. A light globe with no power connected to it. I hovered my hands over it. Using my mind to direct my energy to the globe. It flickered a moment then blazed to life. As it did I felt some of the excess energy that had built up in me from the afternoon's stress ebb away. A coolness brushed my temples. I took a deep breath into my lower belly, held it then let it out, enjoying the release. I could now use my precious equipment without frying it or resorting to the insulating gloves I wore at work when I used phones or computers. No, I’m not protecting myself from electromagnetic frequencies. I’m a source of them. It was everyone and everything else I had to be careful of. Really, I like electricity.

Settling into my cosy, recycled executive's office chair I slowly turned the dial on the transceiver, seeing who might be out there. My usual friends were nowhere to be found. The airwaves were surely doing strange things tonight. An atmospheric inversion perhaps but I’d leave the science of that to someone else. All I knew was that I was hearing signals from many faraway places I never normally reached. A strange clicking hash of sound caught my attention.  Encrypted? Possibly. I fed the signal into a computer program I used to hack such things.  Months ago I'd copied the code from a computer hacker I’d found on the dark web, Yiannis someone. I couldn't remember. Anyhow, I’d adapted the program to decipher jammed or coded signals I found while cruising around the radio bands. Why? Curiosity and the challenge of it I guess. The program was slow deciphering this one. I changed a few parameters, tweaking the code. Ah, there It was, loud and clear.

You had any luck yet finding any more blood donors?

A few. Naira's using her brother's contacts to distribute profiles of all those still in a coma, or at least those we're keen to bring back from their long sleep. Some, well, you know.

Naira is wise to prioritise those who are more likely to be amenable to the new, more egalitarian society we’re building. I’m guessing though that it's not easy to find humans willing to make a commitment to being someone's long term blood donor, especially given the strong bonds of love and friendship that develop between the donor and the recipient.

Our scientists have a theory about that. They think they're imprinting. The first blood they receive becomes the one they prefer.

Interesting. That must make them damn protective of their donors.

There was a hearty laugh from the other in the conversation. You don’t say. It isn't a match made in heaven, that's for sure. Nearly all those donating hate being mollycoddled, as Harry terms it.

As I listened to the conversation I wondered if I could help. Procedure dictated that I should give my call sign but given I’d hacked into their transmission that might not be wise. Hey, you guys. Who are these people you need donors for?

Well well, Thallon. Sounds like we have an interloper. I thought we had secure communications.

You do, I confirmed, Very secure. It took a while for my program to crack the cypher.

Ah, a hacker. The one who'd the other had called Thallon commented.

An amateur radio operator actually.  I just dabble on the computer programming side of things. Look, I apologize for eavesdropping but you guys sound like you have a need. You in a war zone or something? If I donated some blood to the Red Cross would that help? I could talk a few of my friends into donating too. Or if you need more I could start a campaign on social media.

Please don't, the other commanded sternly.

Go easy Aranku, she’s only trying to help.

I don't think her knowing our names is a help.

You started it.

Bloody hell!

You've been listening to the Australians too much.

Even more information she doesn't need to know,  Aranku complained. This is a serious security breach. I need to inform our allies. In the meantime, since you're so sweet on her you find out who and where she is.

Sweet on her!

Well, you were defending her.

I just thought it wouldn't hurt to hear what she has to say.

You do that. I’m reporting to the command center.

Fine!

There was silence for a minute, You still there Thallon? I wondered.

Yeah, just making sure that asshole had gone offline. Now sweetheart, you going to honestly tell me who you are?

That depends on how much hot water I've just landed myself in. Seemed like it was my day for landing in the shit.

Don't let Aranku spook you. He used to be part of my team but he picked the wrong side in a disagreement. He's still a bit touchy about that but his faction now lives in another of our cities. I've no doubt he'll report your incursion but I wouldn't be too worried about it. We'll probably just have to hire you to tighten up our communication security. You looking for a job? he asked hopefully.

Funnily enough I might be, but I still don't know who you guys are.

Er, well, there's not much I can tell you without breaching our security more than it has been.

That figured, Tell me about yourself then, whatever you can safely say.

Me?

Well, not that I can tell much by just talking to you but you seem like a nice guy. You stood up for me against Aranku. What are your interests? What do you do?

"Are you, as, how do you humans say, chatting me up?

Humans? Might be. Is there any reason I shouldn't? Like you’re an alien from another planet or something?

Deathly silence.

Thallon?

Sorry, you caught me by surprise there. Er, it's not in me to lie so can I not answer that question?

He was joking, surely, Ok. So what can you tell me?

Challenging. Let me see. Well, I’m male. You might have worked that much out from the frequency of my voice.

Well yes, duh. But then, if he was an alien that didn’t rule out deep-voiced females. And?

And I'm of average height. Light brown hair and what I think you'd call a well suntanned complexion although that is only because of pigments in my skin that optimise my ability to take nourishment from our sun.

A crawly feeling crept up my spine. Are you saying you feed on sunshine?

Um, maybe I've said too much again. I suck at this secrecy don’t I?

And I was liking him for it. You can be honest with me. You know no-one is going to believe me anyway. If I start saying I've been chatting with an alien they'll just call me a conspiracy theorist and ridicule me. And a thought occurred to me. If you are on another planet, how come we're talking in real time? There should be a time delay.

Maybe that is something I can tell you. How familiar are you with wormholes?

I’m familiar with the concept although they're only a theory, as far as I know.

More than a theory, we use micro-sized wormholes to send our transmissions.

Genius, That’s brilliant! Can you tell me more? What Thallon was talking about could revolutionize radio-based communication.

Well, that depends on whether you’d agree to meet with me?

I sucked my breath in, You asking me out on a date?

A date, like on the calendar? he was obviously confused.

I rolled my eyes but his question seemed genuine, You know, sweet talk me, seduce me, captivate me?

Well now, Thallon sounded both surprised and amused. I think that’s just what I'll do. I’ll consult with the others on what’s involved in dating but can I go as far as asking if I can pick you up tomorrow night?

I frowned, Are you on another planet or are you not?

Sorry I can't tell you that yet. Shall we say 8 pm, your time, tomorrow? I'll pick you up and don't be late. I'll be trying to fly under the radar so to speak?

You're going to pick me up in an aircraft?

Can't answer you honestly on that one either. What about it Terri, we on?

My breath caught in my throat. I never told you my name Thallon.

No you didn't, but there was a smile in his voice. Aranku's been busy. We already know much about you Terrence Jones. I thought Terrence was a boy's name.

Bloody hell! How could they compile a dossier on me that quickly? It is. My dad wanted a son, but Thallon didn't need my life history. It appeared he already had it. Let me see. Make a run for it and try to hide from them or learn the secrets of wormhole transmissions. If they'd found out about me this quickly there would probably be no hiding from them for long. Despite the dangers, curiosity won out, although I would see what I could do to minimize the risks. You're on Thallon, come alone. But I wouldn't.

I was hoping a few good friends could be talked into watching out for me. I needed to get back into town but riding my pushbike after dark, even with its ultra-bright LED lights, would be suicidal. The local drivers weren't renowned for seeing a motorbike at the best of times, let alone a pushbike after dark. So I found the keys to my dad's old truck. Thankfully I'd renewed its insurance and registration last month. I just hoped the battery was still charged.

As I entered the main bar my eyes quickly scanned the room as my dad had long ago taught me to do. Always be aware of your surroundings Terri. Assess the risks and opportunities. Potential weapons and paths of escape. Yes, dad had had a grim view of the world. His work in the military had made him so. And though he knew I walked in a safer world than he had, made safer in no small part because of the sacrifices of people like him, he didn't see any harm in training me to be attentive. He'd made a game of it for me and soon had me hooked on seeing the world through his eyes. Eyes that at this moment noted Mrs Franson, a woollen rug on her lap and her furball of a shitzu-poodle cross at her feet, chatting to her neighbour, Mrs Alison. With white wine as their fuel, a discussion of crochet patterns was quickly giving way to sharing the latest photos of their grandkids. Ever hopeful, Weasel was further down the bar trying and failing to impress two backpacker tourists. The women, in their twenties, looked to be of Scandinavian or Germanic descent. A group of older regulars were in a huddle down the end, beers in hand, their personal sets of darts beside them, resting after a friendly match. Rona was yelling from the kitchen that someone's order was up.

Bill was still working the bar, Hi sweetheart, what brings you into town after dark?

Hmm, how exactly was I going to explain this? Fancy listening to a really wild story, purely hypothetical of course? I put some money on the bar.

Bill handed me a stubbie of my favorite dry cider, took from the money and gave me some change. His face was alive with anticipation as he served me. Bill was always an avid listener. Even better, what he heard often stayed with him, only to be passed on if it would help someone he deemed deserving. And then only as much as they needed to know. It's what made him such a good barman. Is this about the video I sent you?

No, it ain't Bill. So you going to tell me you didn't know the woman Robert was seeing was Dan's wife?

Bill's eyes gleamed with mischief, It was a rather clear front on shot of her I thought. Who identified her?

Dan.

Ah. Bill pursed his lips, Tricky.

He had that right, I’m not sure of all the flow on from this afternoon's effort but that's not why I came in to see you. I have a problem.

A purely hypothetical one, his eyes widened in interest.

Yeah, let's stay with that theory for now. I told him about my strange encounter on the airwaves and my impending date.

At the start of my tale, Bill had picked up a wet glass from the bar's dishwasher and started drying it with a cloth. By the time I finished my tale it was one very clean glass and Li Li, the waitress who'd had to take charge of the bar, was glaring at us both as she worked hard to meet orders from the other customers Bill had seemingly forgotten about. Well now Terri, I'd have to say that as hypothetical problems go that one beats all. Thinking, hypothetically, of course, I'd say you’d need a few chaperones to watch out for you.

Chaperones?

"Better than an imposing force of bodyguards. We wouldn't want the hypothetical alien