"After Roswell" - A.H. Roberts (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) 📗

through the night. A mild side-effect from the mixture of meds. Heart rate is improving, he seems to be stable. Infection seems cure for the moment as temperature returns within the safe zone. He was burning up from a severe fever that could have killed him. Letting him rest, I go downstairs to form a synopsis to explain myself. Get some answers as time is drawing near. I've made plans to go forward with the metamorphosis into human form and steal.......I mean borrow Hank's blood. I need to mask me as a person instead of five-foot grey-skinned alien. First time I've morph into another species without consulting my higher commands back home. Usually DNA is traded by pirates or other civilizations so we can conceal are true nature. Even these humans, complex of course, still are primitive in design and evolution. How hundreds of years will pass before they can manipulate their own DNA. My facial features and body structure was an evolutionary conquest for our scientist. It became a perfect design, it made us immortal against the unknown elements. Many explorers before me died going to uncharted locations, usually from airborne diseases and other complications. Some were lost never to return again, while others died in colonial combats. Political ambitions played a huge part with DNA coding, making our people live longer and increase us physically. Genetic modifications have became a norm on our planet. War veterns who lost eyes, legs, and arms regain those missing parts because of genetics. Learning more about genetics gave birth to cloning. I'm a product from cloning. I basically have no birth parents. I was grown from an embryo. Egg and sperm were donated from selected members in the High Council Command, they in sense are my parents. We mostly refer to them as the "Elders". Also certain instructors were responsible for the modifications on my own genes. These "mods" produce certain attributes. Entitled me as SBC officer. It meant I was a "Speciality Breed Clone" for astronautical exploration. I was born to be a leader and an exploror. Taught from an early age to be strong and careful on the decisions I make. Soon I prep my mind and close my eyes to store the collective memories of todays events.
I wake from the kitchen dining area, fully alert, still maintaining my posture when I sat down earlier. Getting up from the chair I proceed to check up on Hank's condition and maybe exchange some words between us. I hope he made it through the night? Life signs are detected as I hear his sonorous aches as he wakes from sleep. He seems to be feeling better but pain has surface. Opening the door with my palm around some medication, I hide the treatment to lure him into a comfortable encounter. I show him my graditude by offering him medication he had store in the waste room. His intelligence floats out when he extends his hand to receive the pills. These pills look familar to him. A reason why he took them without hesitation. Even though the encounter is awkward and no words are spoken, he remembers me slightly from yesterday. Conclusion utters out after he ingest the pills. "Yer da creature from the that meterorite. Yer be fooling around my house taking stuff." He reveals a smile that is not part of his character. It takes him some effort to form one. I'm shy to respond, fearing want I've learned might not make sense to him. I want a fair balance understanding I don't feel I can deliver. I try with the sake of having this oppourtunity arrive for the first time. Its crucial I respond. "My name is Ebe On'Ce from far away." I point to the ceiling giving reasonable but not technical direction were I'm from. Hank responds, pointing up at the ceiling as well. "Yer from up there...right....another place with others like ya." I respond with gesture of the right answer. I give him a name of the world I call home. "Argon......my home" He responds but with little understanding. "Yer home, thats your home. Whatever you say I don't have kner idea were that is. I aint that edbucated partner. Just me, my farm, and the wildlife that surrounds me". He was talking a dialect I couldn't put together. No logical thought toward the comment. So I just stood there, remaining silent. He begins to yawn. During his tired release of exhaustion, I prink his arm with a medicated needle. As his eyes shut, I sit near him. Instead of going back downstairs, I'm trying to think what else to discuss about next when he awakes. I take a biological scope across every part of his body. Recording data about the human body in full detail. During the first encounter with Hank I was able to take samples of skin and hair that clinged to his clothes. Now with him sedated with pain relievers I take another sample of blood containing his genetic DNA code. Further examination of the code will draw a complete picture of his genetic history. Hair and skin samples are great, but its blood that we have total understanding about. We have a complete DNA archive of every single species we've encounter. Thousands of years in our medical science we have engineered blood. Are own world is on the edge of demise, but our historical bloodline will live on. Our colonies will preserve our legancy. We have develop a clever way, in our near future, to understanding the true beginning of the universe. Analysis is complete. It reveals the blood is red when expose to oxygen as my blood turns green from exposture outside the body. Also his T-cells are getting back to the proper numbers to fight the rest of the infection. His code is remarkable. Nothing like I've seen before. I will test and study it more later when I get to the barn. Sitting in the chair next to Hank has brought a new experience that I don't usually form on most of my explorations. This experience has stricken my brain with sorrow for the existence of another. Even with small conversation I'm delighted that my people's hope for a future visit with these humans might ease their curiousity. Some great work and effort to set forward on a mission to a world so far away. Were the hazards had the potential for no return. It's been fifty years of research on the blue dot that orbits in calculations comfortable to our planet. Those findings excited the whole population. Yet it was so far away we couldn't be sure if anything was alive on the planet. We set-up orbital stations far outside their solar system. Researching the planet from a safe position. It took some information passed along by traders that gave us the go ahead to start a mission to the faraway world. As I'm pondering next to Hank, my mind begins to travel from my body, making visuals appear infront of me. My mind tries to focus on the images that show buildings and my people roaming around massive statues that bring me to the illusion I'm home. I've tapped into a telekinetic source. Somehow a communication has interconnected me to my lifeblood, making his eyes as the receivers. I struggle to keep the images which seem to be mixed up and trailing into another memory. It feels that my lifeblood is sleeping. I'm receiving his unconscious thoughts. More memories flood my mind until I fall in deep sleep.
My eyes open as the sun shines through the window. I look over to find Hank is missing and fear the worst. Maybe he try to use the waste room and die right there? I quickly open the door and run down the corrider. He isn't here either. I'm worry that he went outside and died of possible exposure from the dry environment. He could be sot-faced again and I suspect he got lost? With quickness I jump from the top of the stairs and straight to the floor. While running outside I hear Hank's voluminous voice and stop. "Hey der friend!" I turn around as he is in the kitchen behind the heating element machine or oven. "I was making us some breakfast while yer up der passed out. Got hungry waiting for you to wake up." I smell the familar eggs and bacon as they call it and with watchful eye walk toward the plate he prepared me. I take a seat with a timid resistance to take a portion of the meal. I don't want to offend his offering so I injest some eggs followed by a piece of bacon. "How yer like it der fella. It aint dat bad. Yer probably have something like dat back home". I feel better after no ill-effects and actually start to enjoy it, taking more portions from the plate. "Jezz yer sure are hungry. Its been serm time since you ate something". After the meal he takes the plate and puts it into the sink. I feel alot better since he is standing, walking around. There seems to be acceptance with the peace offering I just endulge in. What I've read is that some people feel euphoric before they depart from their world. This might be the last time I see him alive. This could be his last brief conversation with me. So I try to understand him to the best of my capabilities. "So friend. Yer ship that crashed. Was yer only way back? Any others looking for ya"? I respond, knowing he is smarter then he looks. "My equipment is damaged. Need something to send a message back home. You know of anything like that.....you know to send a message?"He consentrates hard on my response, getting as much information as possible from the words that come out. "Well....we've got anteni and radios, you know stuff like dat. Maybe yer be able to send a message dat way"? I happy to hear that he isn't to scared of me, that are "friendship" has finally became complete as he tries to assist me with my problems. A way to give back the kindness I've shown him. It seems Hank doesn't have a idea what kind of "person" is in his house and the lengths of travel I came to just investigate any lifeforms at all. My grey skin and alien appearance has no possible effect on him. Hank is a simple character. How the surrounding society is far from here and it hasn't bother him in slightest touch. His isolation from others has cause some mental defects to his mind. That reality is not constant in his mind. Time and space around him have a different function that unables Hank to move from his position. He is stuck here just like me. Something is anchoring Hank to this location were no human on this planet could take it from him. He would have to die before he let it go. This property around him seems to have huge memories of something great in his life. If Hank moved away he might just forget. A similarity has emerged in our lives that Hank and me are the same being, just reside in different systems. After cleaning the plates and utensils the human called Hank takes a sit across from me at the table. Pouring alcohol in a small glass, Hank drinks one after another. He burps and removes a cigarette from his top shirt pocket. A light of his "puff-of-death", has lit up his glazed-over eyes. Only a true warrior would do constant battles with death before they actually face it in war. I wait for him to speak.
We sit opposite sides of the dining table, staring at each other with great amazement. Another shot and he puts out his cigarette. He pours another, again he lights a cigarette. He begins