Ending

(Picture Credit - Deepak Chopra)

I’m safely tucked up in bed now. So frail. When I think how fat I used to be. But I’m very, very old. Might even die tonight, in my sleep. Can hear the wind howling outside.

It’s not such a bad place this. The carers look after me well. If I’m lucky they will wheel me into the garden again tomorrow. Hope that wind dies down and the sun shines. Where am I? Can’t recall the name. This Dim Enta thing. So tired now. So tired…

“And wake!”

What? Where am I? On my back! Ceiling. Face! Doctor Sanders!”

“It’s over, Krol, welcome back.”

I remember. Doctor Sanders. I’ve been hypnotised, regressed to a former life. Lived that whole life! And now I’m awake!

Me: “Did I just die there?”

Dr. Sanders: “Yes Krol, in your sleep. Or at least the person you were died in his sleep… But did you get the full life experience this time?”

Me: “Just about, Bob. I can remember back to being about three. My parents, our little dog, a baby sister. Playing with a wooden train or something that you could ride in. But it seems I died in my sleep…”

Bob: “How far back in time was this?”

Me: “I was born mid-twentieth century, not long after the Second World War…”

Bob: “Fascinating. Better get you into Debriefing, before you forget it all.”

Me: “Yeah. It sure was a long life. Lots of history for you. I can’t get over that that was me!”

Bob: “You’ll soon adjust, Krol.”

Me: “That Death thing was scary, Bob. I was afraid of ‘dying’, as they called it, for most of my life. Thank goodness we found a cure.”

Bob: “Yes Krol, things were really rough back then. But come on, let’s get that report of yours done…”

Paul Butters

© PB 13\6\2018.

Elvis Lives

(Picture Credit - Statistics Brain)

(Just found this golden oldie in my archives - you may remember some of the characters involved)

“Where the hell am I?” protested the thirty-plus Elvis. He was straight-jacketed inside a fifteen foot high glass cylinder. Standing in front of him were three white coated scientists (judging by their appearance).  

Central scientist: “What is your name and date of birth please?”

Elvis: “Elvis Presley, 8th January 1935. What’s going on, man?”

Scientist: “There’s no easy way to break this to you, Elvis. You are a Copy of the original Elvis. A complete copy, both physically and mentally. You have all his memories.”

Second scientist: “But we are going to reprogram your memory. Don’t worry, it will be painless. Soon you will have a new life, as an orphan with English foster parents. You will have adapted to losing your father at two and your mother at fourteen.”

First scientist: “The exciting thing, though, is that we are sending you to an alternate universe where there is no Elvis! Our agents there have arranged for you to be fostered in England. The year is 2011 there. It’s a great opportunity for you.”

Third Scientist: “You will remember nothing of this. All you will remember is singing Beatles and other famous songs with your mates at the pub.”

First Scientist: (Into a mike on his chest) “Let’s do it Sam!”

Instantly the cylinder filled with a blinding light. The deed was done. (Actually the memory-reprogramming was done. But once they were satisfied, Elvis was transported to that alternate Earth).

A few months later the X Factor judges were sitting at their table, waiting for the next auditionee to be summoned.

Tulisa: “What a morning!”

Gary: “Manchester is a big letdown today!”

Kelly: “That’s England for ya!”

Louise: “You bet. Ah here’s another.”

Tulisa’s fresh, beautiful face lit up as this swarthy young man ambled across the stage.

Tulisa: “Hello!” Who are you?

Elvis: “Elvis Presley, Ma’am.”

Tulisa: “And how old are you?”

Elvis: “Thirty two.”

Louis: “I hear you were fostered here as a teenager, Edmund.”

Elvis: “Huhuh? That’s Elvis, sir. Yes I was. I lost my mom when I was fourteen.”

Kelly: “Oh my. That’s really sad, honey!”

Gary: “What experience do you have of singing?”

Elvis: “Well, I just like to sing along with my friends at the pub.”

Gary: “How come we’ve not seen you before?”

Elvis: “Well, I’ve been waiting until my family are secure. They are now, so here I am.”

Louis: “What are you going to sing for us today, Elvis?”

Elvis: “Yesterday, by The Beatles.”

Louise: “When you are ready.”

Elvis: “Thank you very much.”

The music started. And Elvis sang...

Paul Butters

© PB 28\9\2011.

Abduction

Tom Parker looked down in horror. His car had just exploded after hitting a wall. But he wasn’t in it!

It had all started only minutes earlier when he had seen a dazzling bright light hovering above him. At that point he was driving home from a very successful political convention. Tom was all ready to slump in his armchair and enjoy a celebratory whisky. Instead, his car engine had cut out. And the instant he’d left the vehicle it had been grabbed by some ray from that “light” and flung into the nearest wall like a discarded toy.

Oh God, those alien abduction stories must be true!

That light was getting nearer: lower in fact. Tom could make out a circular shape… Now a beam hit him! He was lifted into the air, up towards that “craft”.

Horrible visions flooded his mind. He pictured little grey aliens with big eyes. Probes being thrust up his nose. Things being inserted into him in some alien operating theatre. Tom was terrified. Science fiction had become brutal fact.

Soon he could see what was indeed a “flying saucer” of sorts. A doorway slid open and in he floated, into some brightly lit but featureless room. Gently Tom was lowered onto a metallic floor. He sat for a moment, trying to calm his beating heart.

“Hello Tom.”

A voice came from behind him. He had to turn. A human male!

Human: “Are you okay, Tom?”

Tom: “Er, guess so.”

Human: “I’m Paul Weston. Pleased to meet you Tom.”

Tom: “You’re human?!”

Paul: “Just as human as you, Tom. Please come with me.”

In something of a haze, Tom was led into another room via a sliding door.

Paul: “We call this our reception room, Tom. Please take a seat and strap yourself in. We are about to depart. You need to secure yourself.”

The room was circular, with “flying aircraft seats” fixed to the walls. Paul took a seat and strapped himself in, alongside two other men and a pretty female. They all wore uniform which suggested military. Paul motioned Tom to follow his lead and strap in.

Tom: “But I don’t want to ‘depart’! What the hell’s going on.”

Paul: “Calm down, Tom. You’ll have a rough ride if you don’t strap in, believe me!”

Tom weighed up his options. He was totally at the mercy of these people. Resistance was futile, as the saying went. So he randomly chose a seat and strapped in, with the help of some instructions from the others.   

He was soon damn glad he’d complied. Suddenly the whole place went sort of shaky. It reminded Tom of being put to sleep by “laughing gas” at the dentist as a kid. Everything became chaos. Then, just as suddenly, all returned to normal.

“We’re home,” announced Paul, “It’s time to talk. Would you like a drink, Tom?”

Seconds later, Tom was holding a “plastic” cup of coffee.

Tom: “You people from the military?”

Paul: “Not exactly. And no, we aren’t aliens in disguise!”

Tom: “Who the hell are you then?”

Paul: “Right. Now I must warn you, Tom, this is going to be hard to believe.”

Tom: “Try me.”

Paul: Well, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but from your perspective, we are from the far future.”

Tom: “What?”

Paul: “Yes, Tom, and as soon as we’ve got clearance we’ll take you outside and show you.”

Tom continued protesting, but Paul pressed on.

Paul: “This is difficult, Tom, but we had to come back to your time in order to remove you from the timeline.”

Tom: “Why?”

Paul: “Because, my friend, history tells us that, as a highly successful politician you perpetrated actions which ultimately caused a global war.”

Lady (cutting in): “Our analysts are assessing now whether your, er, abduction is sufficient to avert the blackest part of our history, Tom. Oh, er, sorry to be rude: I’m Amanda Wright.”

Paul: “Come with me, I’ll show you the evidence.”

With that, Tom was escorted by the others to what could best be described as a computerised library containing many “viewscreens”. There he was appalled to witness for himself the historical “reasons” for the decision to kidnap him. He’d actually become his country’s “Minister for Defence” and in that capacity had made some horrific mistakes.

Eventually Tom turned to the others, with shock still written all over his face.

Tom: “I’m very sorry for this. Look, if you take me back I promise on my life not to take the same path again. Well, at all. Understand?”    

Amanda: “Well, first we need to see what the outcome has been for this mission. Yes?”

The others agreed. Off they all went again, this time heading into a spacious Control Room. Almost everyone turned to face them.

Amanda: “Has the analysis been completed?”

A man stepped forward.

Man: “Ah, we’ve been waiting for you. Hello Tom, I’m Captain Mark Middleton. Welcome on board Timeship ‘Endeavour’. Gladly I can confirm that we have a ninety percent success on this mission. Please follow me, everyone, it’s time to go out there and present ourselves for debriefing.”

So Tom walked out, along with his new companions, down some twisting corridors and through the ship’s main exit. The cityscape that now surrounded them was simply awesome.

They were welcomed by a massive crowd of people, all ready to give them a “tickertape welcome”.

There was of course lots of fuss and bother. It was all chaotic. But eventually Tom was ushered into a spacious “lounge” to “meet the other guests.”

Straight away a male “guest” stepped forward to greet him.

Male Guest: “Welcome to The Future Tom. I’m Robert Wang. Come and meet your fellow guests.”

Tom: “All these?”

Robert: “Yes, Tom. You are the 24^th. And yes, we were all taken from our homes, like you.”

Tom: “Wow!”

Robert: “Yes, we just need to get you settled in. We can make plans later. This is the headquarters of ‘The Time Corps’. Be assured there is surveillance almost everywhere. So please, Tom, do behave yourself, won’t you?”

Robert winked and smiled, ushering Tom towards to nearest group of guests. Swiftly he was handed some food and drink.

After this “reception”, the other guests led him out along some “lanes” to a walled “estate” of residences. One residence was an almost exact replica of his own house back in the distant past. Sure enough, Tom was to stay there. Nice touch.

In the middle of this estate there was a park. Robert was very keen to show him this pleasant feature.

Suddenly Robert tugged him through a gap in the shrubbery!

Robert: “Okay, Tom there’s no surveillance here. We can talk freely. But I repeat, nowhere else unless we tell you otherwise!”

Tom: “Got that.”

Robert: “Good. As you can see, we are all well treated. But we are all abductees. No matter how nice it is, this is still a prison. And some of us want out. Yeh. And some of us reckon we can take that timeship and get us all back home. Back to our loved ones and all. Are you in?”

Tom: “Sure am.”

Paul Butters