"After Roswell", A.H. Roberts [the best motivational books txt] 📗

That it is certain in this room. He is not here to play games. Its better to remain silent. Unless I'm questioned. Only speak when spoken to. If I talk too much. I could give away secrets. Also I have to retain some control in this submissive state. My information that is stored in my mind. Is of important value to these secluded individuals. Surprise action. As number two puts his face to mine. Then he continues on."We have found out some recent evidence. Which proves your not Lucas McDermont". He backs away and turns around. Where he pulls out a piece of paper from his briefcase. I still remain silent. I let the man speak. "I found out some interesting things about this so call name you assume to be. It states here; Lucas McDermont, died in World War Two. D-Day of 1944. Apparent mortor shell fire. He rescued four men that day. Statements from these men. Had him pulling them off the beach during the invasion . Awarded the Purple Heart. The military confirms this twice". He pulls out another sheet of paper from his briefcase. Again he reads to me what is written."Now here in my hand. Is a piece of paper that is illegal to have. As well as a disgrace to this man's name". Once again he pulls out other papers from the briefcase."Here are some forged documents. Filed under the City of Alburquerque. You lived at this address under the stolen identity of Lucas McDermont. A soldier of the United States Army. For about ten years you worked under that name. A few locations have records of you working for them". He points with his finger at a certain spot on the paper."Have you worked at this local hotel listed here"? There on the paper is the place I was employed at. Which also serve has living quarters. He continues on about the other places I've worked."Also you've held a job at a nearby bar. Owner Thomas Kelly claims you worked under him. Even dated his daughter. ALQ.88.3, a radio station on the outskirts of the city. They have you on a payroll account. Even an application for hire". From the briefcase. He pulls out one last paper."Now we have this warrant. Issued by the police department for your whereabouts. Also they wanted to questioned you. About homicide of an technician who worked for the radio station". With a long pause after his statements. He continues with the closing of his interrogation."Another question we have for you. Who are you? There is no records of any other Lucas or Luke McDermont living near these locations". After a few minutes. He turns around toward the door. He opens it. Before leaving. He ends the conversation with these words."Think about what I've said". I slowly turn my head from the door and into the bright light hanging above. I think hard about some of the information he shared with me. He knows the truth about me. No playing dumb. Accept the facts infront me. A small secondary thought looms behind my cortex. That staying alive. Might be just as important as returning home.
A long wait, and just being bored, has put me to sleep. Dreaming has become very difficult since my capture. Falling asleep into a dark endless hole. With no color or mental picture to guide me in the right direction. So I wake up. Here, strapped to the gurney. No sign of the agents. I yell for the men."Agent Foster, Agent Green! I'm ready to answer your questions". Not a good response. Since it makes me looks desperate. Need any logical assistance I can get. If it keeps me alive, to play by their rules. Then so be it. I've endure more grueling efforts to get back home before. After minutes of yelling for the men. They finally enter the room. Number two takes a seat against the wall. Number one or Agent Foster stands next to the gurney. He shows more comfort and confindence in the words he speaks."Were not here to hurt you. But only to ask you certain questions. Questions that give us a better understanding on your attentions". His deameanor and attitude towards me is way different from the other agent. He doesn't want to harm me. Has no plan on killing me. I'm more of prize if left alive. Less important if dead. After a brief silence. Number one loosens the restraints."For your comfort in this interview. I'm taking you out of the restraints. Don't! Make me regret this". I hestitate for the moment. Shocked that they trust me enough to be free within this room. Especially knowing my attributes and strengths. He ask me a personal question. Something that hasn't been spoken in some time."What is your real name? Whats your rank within your society"? I respond."Commander Ebe On'Ce, from the First Regiment; Exploration and Recovery". He marks something on the clipboard in his hand. While doing this. He request my permission. "Do you have a problem if I record this interview. Something for our report". I don't see much harm in doing so. Any information I give will be of no importance to them. So I give the agent my permission. "You may record". Number two makes a gesture with his hand. Telling someone behind the mirror to start the recording. Agent Foster, who for some odd reason I'm beginning to like. Begins the interview."Where do you come from? How did you get here"? Agent Foster slowly paces from side to side. Looking carefully at me. I don't keep him waiting. So give him the answer. "A planet called Argon. I crashed here about thirteen years ago". Not taking much time in between questions. He continues."Were you involve in the crash of 1947? A crash that happen in the deserts of New Mexico? A place called Roswell"? I gulp nothing but air. I only now have determine. That they know everything. So I reply."Yes I survive that crash. A crew of three including myself. We were on a mission to explore your planet. Our ship malfunction. We crashed landed on your planet". Once again he writes notes on the clipboard. I can only imagine what kind of things he is writing about me. Everything from the time we enter the system to the problems that happened on the ship. It seems the interview is over. As minutes pass. Which feels like an hour has gone by. Foster continues to write. While number two leans up against the wall. I start to feel hungry. Being bored usually craves my stomach to feel this way. I ask a request. A way to break the silence."Do you mind if we take a break. I'm feeling starve. Haven't eaten anything solid for days". He places the clipboard on the gurney. Number two signals to someone behind the mirror to cut the recording. They both exit the room. As I'm left alone to ponder. What will happen next? I hope there satisfy with the results?
It feels like a whole day has passsed. But I wouldn't know? Its been awhile since I stepped outside. It could be day or night? So far during the interview. I gave them what they wanted to hear from me. Nothing that could put harm to my people. Lets face it. These humans haven't even send anyone into space yet. Still I haven't got any closer to the end of the story. What happen to the navigator? I've answer their questions. Should I ask my own? It could cause some major problems. Again, the other side of my mind tells me otherwise. What problems can arise by asking a few questions? Walking back and forth from one end of the room to the other. Its making me tired. Also because the lack of food in my stomach. It has left me with no energy. I wonder if I'm even going to be taken care of while in their custody? Soon I hear a noise behind the door. In a defensive stance. I back up. Waiting for a possible attack. Not knowing what new face might appear? From behind the door. A soldier has entered. Dressed in a plain, blue jumpsuit. No weapon, only a tray in his hands. On the tray is an assortment of different food items. A pitcher of an unknow brown substance next to the food. Utensils and a cup are placed neatly to the side. I pour myself a glass of the brownish liquid. Which to me looks like iced tea. I'm right. Its iced tea with a pinch of lemon juice. As for the food items. Sliced beef smothered in brown gravy. Steamed vegetables with melted butter. Carrots, string beans, and peas all mixed together. Dinner rolls have a plate of their own. A range of different jams and spreads are arranged around the plate. While looking over all the food. I don't even notice that the guard is still posted inside. I look at the soldier. With a verbal attack. I fight them with my kindness."Thank you for the food". Turning towards the mirror."Thank you as well." After the comments to the soldier and the others behind the mirror, I begin to eat my meal. Soon the soldier leaves the room. With plenty of time to spare. I enjoy the meal. I take my time eating every portion. Savoring each flavor. As it could be my last meal. Maybe the reason they left the room? Doesn't matter. I continue to eat after the thought. A slight, but very small smile reveals itself. How the euphoric moment can stimulate my senses by eating food. But its good and keeps me craving for seconds. I finish the meal and relax in my seat. Holding my stomach. Which has grown twice as large from before. Only for a few minutes did it look alien to me. Not to I took a piece of the beef, vegetables, and all the other items. That it taste familar. I push the plate a few inches from me. I stay seated, calm and relaxed. Now I wait for my possible execution. My final breath of life. An end to my story as we know it.
Soon after my meal had settled in my stomach the door opened again. Enter this time, only one agent. Agent Foster. Thats the agent I'm more comfortable with. He sits across from me. During the moment he enter the room. I was ready for somekind of confrontation. He motions me to take a seat."Ebe is it. No mind do you. If I call you by your first name?" Being under the identity of Luke or Lucas for all these years. I've grown accustomed to being called by that name. I prefer if you call me Lucas. It has suit me very well". I give the agent a cocky attitude during the response. He proceeds with more questions."A huge sheet of offenses you've accumulated over the years". He takes a file from his jacket. Lies it on the table. With a slow touch of his finger. He opens the file. He points to a name. Gabe Rute is written on the paper. Under the name is an address. Its a street and avenue I remember. Its from a little town located in Alburquerque. But name is completely oblivious to me. I become angry. Only as a self-defense technique. Physically outnumbered. I need the powers of my mind to overcome the situation. I respond."Whats is this oppose to mean? Someone I know?" I toy with his ego and mind. Let him do most of the talking. Agent Foster continues. Jogging a memory by the explanation in details."Well you might not know him. Yet you did encounter him. About three years ago. He was murder. No reasonable explanation, no signs of foul-play". He takes out some pictures of the man. Pictures of him with his family. Soon he spreads the pictures out