Exiled

By Michael W. Elliott

This is the story of an alien convicted of murder. He is sentenced to death, but due to lack of prison space on his planet, he is exiled to Earth for one year until his sentence can be carried out.

While adjusting to his new environment and contemplating his fate, he meets a woman and her troubled teenage daughteran encounter he neither expected nor desired.

This chance meeting would turn out to have tumultuous effects and change the lives of everyone involved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781496955173

Michael W. Elliott

Mike Elliott graduated from the University of Akron with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Mass Media Communication, with emphasis on Journalism. He also has a minor in Sociology. It was while attending the university that his writing career officially started by being a staff writer for two university newspapers. Mike is a great admirer of Rod Serling. He credits a quote from Rod as being the major influence in his writing. “I like to take ordinary people and put them in extraordinary situations.” This sums up Mike’s writing philosophy. While the actual ideas for his stories come from a variety of sources, Mike firmly asserts the characters come from within his heart claiming there is a lot of himself in each of his characters. Mike describes himself as a hopeless romantic and aspires for these sentiments to come out in his characters. Mike was born in Akron, Ohio and raised in Willoughby, Ohio, before returning to Akron. He now resides in Hershey, Pennsylvania. He has a daughter, Crystal Renee, who was the inspiration for everything he has done since the day she was born. Mike’s passions include music, sports, stamp collecting, films, classic television, and animals.

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© 2014 Michael W. Elliott. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/25/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-5518-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-5517-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Other books by Michael W. Elliott

The Spirit of Romance

XLIBRIS Publishing 2013

ISBN-10: 1483683451

ISBN-13: 978-1483683454

The story of an alien convicted of murder. He is sentenced to death but due to lack of prison space on his planet he is exiled to Earth for one year until his sentence can be carried out.

While adjusting to his new environment and contemplating his fate, he meets a woman and her troubled teenage daughter; an encounter he neither expected nor desired.

This chance meeting would turn out to have tumultuous effects and change the lives of everyone involved.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my beautiful daughter Crystal Renee Elliott who has been the inspiration for everything I have ever done since the day she was born.

Special Thanks to

My beloved parents Edwin and Isabel Elliott to whom I owe everything.

Lori Parsons My soulmate. Thank you for your unconditional love, support, and encouragement.

Monna Robinson May for her continuous support, encouragement and belief in my abilities.

Kimberly M. Roby for her incredible original artwork used on the cover. She can be reached at: [e-mail]

Tina Dollar for putting up with my eclectic mood shifts and my maniacal writing habits of staying up late hours with my music on. Thank you for your patience, tolerance and understanding.

To all my friends over the years, too numerous to mention but they know who they are, who never gave up on their belief in me and have been a constant source of encouragement.

To everyone who bought my first book The Spirit of Romance. Your support and encouragement is greatly appreciated. I sincerely thank you all.

"

Prisoner 16754 approach the monitor."

The unseen robotic voice which emanated from a speaker on the wall woke him from a deep sleep. A computer monitor suddenly illuminated on the desk in the corner of his cell disrupting the darkness.

He sat up and took notice of the activity. Focusing his eyes to the light provided only by the screen in front of him he slowly walked over to the desk and sat on the folding chair in front of the monitor. He arched his aching back. The state issued cot was very uncomfortable and he always woke up with a sore back. That was the least of his problems at the moment.

A man appeared on the screen wearing a white robe, his face stoic, unemotional filling the entire screen with its ominence.

The due process has been completed. A decision has been made, your sentence has been determined.

He took a deep breath and waited for the words he knew were inevitable.

After weighing all the evidence you have provided and deliberating and carefully reviewing all factors you have been found guilty as charged of murder in the first degree. Your sentence is in accordance with the crime you have committed.

He wiped the sleep from his eyes, deep in thought. He had waited for this moment for two weeks as the process of law kept him confined to his bare cell. He had to laugh to himself as he wondered just how much of the evidence was actually deliberated on.

The wording of the statement was nothing more than a ritual. There had been no reviewing, no deliberating. He was guilty the moment they brought him in and he knew it. His fate had been decided the night they arrested him. A guilty verdict would make the state look good and that would be the only consideration. The waiting period was just a façade, a formality. His waiting was now over.

He had no input in the process other than wait patiently for the verdict. That is how things were done. The state decides everything, always to its favor. The evidence had been provided, his statements and position were given through the indoctrination process, and his role in the proceedings was over.

Fear over took him. He had never been afraid of anything in his life before now. He hated not being in control of his fate. He wasn’t use to that. He was always in control; he made sure of that, it was important to him. For the first time in his life he felt helpless.

He fully understood what he had been charged with and the possible consequences of the crime. He had hoped for mercy but expected none. The state had a low tolerance for these types of things. It was election year and he feared he would be made an example of. He had become an easy scapegoat for the state and he knew they would take full advantage of the opportunity.

He knew a guilty verdict would make the incumbent appear tough on crime, an issue that had become quite debated recently. He tried to be relieved that the uncertainty, if there ever were any, was finally over but the fear of death interrupted that train of thought. He was certain he would receive the death penalty.

"You will be executed by dematerialization one year from today. Due to the lack of adequate prison space you will be put in exile for the next year until the date of your execution arrives at which point you will be returned.

There are standard procedures which must be followed regarding this exile and arrangements are currently being made. You will be informed when they are completed. That is all for now."

He stood up and returned to his cot where he closed his eyes and sat alone with his thoughts.

The morning sun was valiantly trying to seep through the small slot of a window above his cot. The brightness was unwelcome and out of place in the otherwise drab and dreary cell.

He stared at the cold gray cement floor. He studied the chipping paint on the gray walls. The filthy toilet and sink in the corner and the desk with the monitor which has now returned to its normal black screen. There was nothing within the four walls to instill confidence, to imply compassion or anything positive. That, of course, was by design.

He thought of the past two weeks he had called this cell his home. The boredom, the apathy confinement brings and the anger over allowing him self to be caught. He thought further back to the fateful evening when this night mare began.

The bastard deserved to die, he was doing the state a favor and yet he was the one being punished. He knew the man’s past and knew it had to end. No one was doing anything about it so he took matters into his own hands.

He thought about how the bastard would brag to him about manipulating funds from the state to invest in his personal drug ring, activities that he knew had been responsible for many deaths yet he was never convicted. How he sold the stuff to the very people who are now prosecuting him.

He thought about how he approached the authorities with this information and how he was ignored. No one would listen to someone with his record and background. He cursed himself for even trying. He knew he would have to be done away with. He held secrets that the state would never allow to be exposed.

It was a simple choice for the state; to do away with one undesirable or be exposed for the corruption only he knew was taking place. No…. his fate had been determined long before the man on the screen ever appeared.

He laid down and pondered his worthless thirty five years of existence and how ending it might actually be a blessing in disguise. What would he really be leaving behind? He had no family and no friends. He was certain he had a future which would only mirror his past. Drugs, alcohol, crime, maybe even another murder or two. What the hell did he have to live for anyways? Maybe the state was doing both of them a favor by executing him.

After thinking more about it he discovered the fear of death had left him. He found himself almost looking forward to ending this lurid ordeal. If ever there was a man who had nothing to live for, it was him.

He pounded his fist on the blanket. Damn it all he thought. He was angry, bitter and frustrated. He went back to sleep at least thankful that the uncertainty of his future had finally been resolved. Hours of dreamless sleep passed before he was awaken by the same computer voice.

Prisoner 16754 approach the monitor.

He sighed and sat back at the desk. The same man appeared on the screen.

"Your preparation for exile will begin this evening. You will be admitted to our medical building for the necessary procedures. You will first be implanted with a tracking mechanism and interpretation device. The tracking mechanism will allow us to keep track of you during your stay on the planet. This of course will make any thoughts of trying to escape impossible. This will be implanted inside your brain and send off a homing signal.

We will know where you are every minute of your stay. The device will be meticulously attached to your spinal chord making removal impossible without severing the spinal chord and of course causing immediate death.

The interpretation chip will translate your words into their language and also enable you to understand them. This chip will be surgically implanted onto your vocal chords.

The chip is very comprehensive; it has a vocabulary capability of over seventy thousand of their words. We have spent years studying their language and I assure you that you will have no trouble communicating with them.

These procedures are harmless and you will not even notice their presence once the procedure is finished.

Your brain will also be provided with a data program, an encyclopedia of knowledge about their planet. This will be accomplished by implanting you with a data chip within the synapses of the brain itself.

This chip will automatically activate when your brain sends signals to it requesting information. It will sense confusion in your thought patterns and activate itself with the appropriate information for that particular situation."

He had always wondered how that was all done. Great, not only were they going to ship him off to some god forsaken planet for a year then kill him when he got back, now they are going to mess with what’s left of his brain, as if all the drugs he had done over the years haven’t already done enough damage to it. He once again laughed to himself thinking he wouldn’t be needing it much longer anyways.

"Upon completion of the surgery you will be given provisions to help your stay. You will be provided with enough currency for their planet to enable you to survive for the year. You will be given basic medical supplies and applications and the opportunity to select a variety of personal items.

An attendant will arrive shortly to take you to our medical facilities. The destination planet was chosen for its atmosphere and the appearances of its inhabitants being identical to ours. Its actual location is of no need for you to know. We have used this particular planet for this purpose for many years.

You will find its atmosphere a bit thinner than ours but very breathable. The climate will be somewhat warmer than you are used to due to their closer proximity to their sun. This may be uncomfortable at first but you will have no trouble adjusting. You will fit in unnoticed and will be amazed at how closely they resemble us. That is all for now."

The screen once again returned to black. He leaned back in his chair listlessly and sighed. He took a deep breath and just shook his head in despair. He asked himself why they couldn’t just execute him now and simply avoid all this exile nonsense. Wasn’t death punishment enough? Why did he have to be tormented even further by being exiled to some extraterrestrial purgatory?

A guard appeared at his door with a tray of dinner. The uniformed man opened the door and placed the tray on the cement floor then relocked the door.

The guard watched him as he examined the tray. He wasn’t even sure what the food items were but took advantage of what little nutrition they gave him. He took a spoonful of unidentifiable mush as the guard snickered.

What the hell is this crap? You expect me to eat this?

The guard just laughed.

I don’t care what you do with it punk, but if you need some suggestions I have a few.

He glared at the guard holding back the urge to lunge at him.

He had heard the state was cutting expenses in the penal system and now saw how they were doing it, by feeding its prisoners this. He stared blankly at what he knew would be his last meal on his home planet.

He started to wonder what the food would be like at his new home. What ever they ate there certainly couldn’t be any worse than this.

He pondered what life in general would be like, what the inhabitants would be like. He came across too many questions to even consider at the moment. Besides, he didn’t have a say in it anyways. He had no other choice than to play the hand he was dealt.

He finished his meal and kicked the empty tray across the floor. He sat back on the cot waiting for the attendant. His wait was a short one.

No sooner had his head hit the flat pillow the state provided him than two uniformed guards appeared in front of him.

Get up punk; we’re going to slice you up now.

Charming demeanor he thought silently to himself.

Yeah? Just give me one chance and I’ll slice you up so your own mother won’t recognize you!

The guards entered his cell. One guard pinned him against the bars. He fought the urge to resist knowing it would be pointless.

The other guard grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back. Magnetized restrainers were slapped on his wrists and a laser prod stick shoved in his back to point the direction they wanted him to go. He felt a sharp jolt of electricity on his spine and was pushed out of the cell.

He was escorted by the two armed guards down the row of cells, encouraged to continue moving by continuous electrical jolts from the prod stick. The walked through the office to the front doors and across the courtyard to a brightly lit medical facility.

The guard directly behind him was jabbing him repeatedly with his prod stick, jolting him with electricity each time. He turned around and briefly faced his tormentor.

Cut it out! You’re lucky I have these magnetizers on you son of a bitch! I’ll see you in hell without these on!

The guard just laughed.

Maybe so, but you will sure get there before I do. Your reservation is already confirmed, you just have a year to go bad boy and you will be there.

They entered the building and one guard went to the front desk while the other remained with him, taunting him with the prod stick. The guard returned with a clipboard full of papers and they went to an elevator which took them down to the basement lab.

They were greeted at the door by a doctor and a nurse. The doctor took the clipboard from the guard and the nurse escorted him to a room crowded with complex medical equipment and an operating table. He was instructed to disrobe and put on a white gown.

He was then led to the operating table and told to lie down. An anesthesiologist placed a mask over his face and he was instructed to breathe in the cold mist normally. He experienced a pungent bitter taste in his throat as the drug filled his head. He felt a brief dizzy sensation and was unconscious within minutes.

He woke up in post-op with a massive headache and sore throat thinking to