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  "You will go to my home? You will entrust me with your life?" the voice asked faintly. Despite the terror almost immobilizing her, Melanie realized it was growing dimmer and seemed to be coming to her as if muffled by a blanket.

  As if to catch hold of the strange presence, she opened her arms and let the lamp fall to the carpet with a thud. "I will do anything you ask. Just get me away from here before they kill me," she pleaded as the door began to slowly glide open and the drapes moved.

  Melanie heard her scream echoing around in her head even while she felt herself begin to fall. Only she wasn’t collapsing to the floor, but floating down a long tunnel of light. A giggle that was the laugh of a hysterical woman on the brink of madness burst from her throat. Would she, like Alice, encounter a white rabbit at the end of her fall?

  ~ * ~

  Melanie had stopped falling. Moving stealthily, she found she was reclining on a luxuriant bed. Padding, as soft as swan’s-down, surrounded her body. With a soft sigh she snuggled down, not wanting to come out of this dream that wasn’t really a dream.

  If she opened her eyes she would return to the horror of being stalked by a killer. Another moment and she knew she would have been dead. But here, wherever here was, was safe.

  Warm, secure and safe.

  Melanie swallowed, grimacing at the bitter taste in her mouth. A taste brought on by terror. She moved her head on the soft padding.

  "You may open your eyes," the now familiar mild voice ordered. "You are secure now. Do not panic as you become aware of your surroundings, Melanie Ross. Nothing or no one can harm you here."

  Melanie followed the instructions. The voice was so coaxing. Somehow she knew there was nothing to fear. As her eyelids slowly lifted, the first thing she saw was a blank gray wall. Steel perhaps. There was nothing but this blank wall to be seen and a feeling close to panic hit her.

  "Where am I?" she croaked, moving her head to the right and seeing nothing over there but the same plain grey sheet of steel. "Am I in an elevator?"

  Melanie hated the things. Had since, as a ten year old, she’d been trapped in one for hours with twelve sweaty, panicked people. Trying to lift her head a dizziness swept over her and she flopped back down again with a small groan. "Please, let me out. I hate it here." The sense of well-being and security fled like a puff of smoke blown away by the wind.

  "How can you hate something you have no knowledge of?" the voice queried faintly. "I will give you a sedative soon. It will calm you down. But first we have to be sure you are still willing to accept the challenge and go back to my home. I have very little time. We must be quick."

  "Where are you?" Melanie cried. "Why aren’t you in here with me?" Once again she lifted onto her elbows and stared about. The chamber was about eight feet by ten feet and her mouth went dry. She began to tremble and fear over-rode all other emotions.

  "You have no reason to be afraid, Melanie Ross. Relax," the coaxing voice urged.

  "Easy for you to say." Melanie twisted to put her legs over the edge of the strange bed. She felt light-headed, but at least the dizziness had dissipated. "You might be used to being trapped in this coffin, but I hate it! Get me out!" Her voice screeched.

  That same light touch drifted over her brow and suddenly all panic fled. A feeling of contentment began to fill her as she looked about. "Please. Show yourself."

  "Ah, Melanie Ross, unfortunately I cannot do that. My powers are fading fast. If you do not agree to my proposal soon, we will be out of time and I will have to put you back on your planet, leave you to face the dangers awaiting you there." The voice was filled with sadness.

  "No! No, please don’t do that," Melanie pleaded, reaching her arms out as if she could touch the alien entity. "All right. I agree. What else can I do? But would you kindly explain where I am and what is going to happen to me."

  Stretching her toes towards the floor on unsteady legs, she stood. As she moved away from the bed, the walls seemed to move with her and recede so the room seemed bigger. Or was her imagination playing strange tricks? Perhaps she was already dead and this was a stopping station on the way to the after-life.

  "No, you are still very much alive," the voice assured her. "I convinced your mind the chamber is larger than it really is, just to temper your panic."

  "How did you do that? How did you know what I was thinking?" Melanie demanded, uneasy. But at least the panic threatening to engulf her before was gone.

  "My people have the power of what you call telepathy. I can understand all your feelings and read all your thoughts, after I convert them to my language. That is how I tuned into your fear on Earth and guessed you might willingly go along with my plan. Now, as to where you are. You are in the control capsule of my craft. I have programmed the robots to return the vessel to Amaryllis. By the time you dock there, you will be conversant with the knowledge needed to land and to acclimatize to our planet’s ways.

  "As to why you cannot see me, I am almost gone. The influenza virus has practically immobilized all of my faculties and I cannot waste energy on visualizing. The last of my strength will be used to put you in a state of nirvana for the journey to our planet."

  "Your planet." Melanie was very nervous again.

  "Yes, it is on the outer rim of the universe. While you are in a trance, you will be instructed in the ways of my people so you will not feel too disorientated when you arrive. You will also be given the vital instructions needed to land the capsule."

  "Oh my God." This was all too much to take in. These things only happened in movies.

  "You must warn them of the dangers inherent on Earth. Emphasize the warning Shan will already have delivered. Two of your days and nights is the longest period it is safe for us to stay. I dallied for a few hours more than I should have. This was my undoing."

  "Were you the only female in this expedition?" Melanie asked, as she tried to come to terms with what this voice was telling her. This had to be a bad dream. There were people who believed in inter-galactic travel and UFOs, and even some who claimed to have been taken into space ships by extra terrestrials, but she’d always pooh-poohed such nonsense.

  Touching the soft couch she pulled back sharply. The fabric had the feel of leather and the look of suede, but was neither.

  "No, the squadron consisted of equal males and females. It was the proudest day of my life when I was selected." Distress clouded the fading voice. "Now, Melanie Ross it is time. Please, you must return to the couch. Lie back, relax, and fear nothing. When next you awake, you will be in the outer orbit of Amaryllis and programmed to set the capsule down and then live as an Amaryllisan. Reve will be waiting for you."

  "Reve?" Melanie asked as she lay back, her limbs shaking.

  "Yes, Reve. He is the commander of our Starship, Victus. He will be the person you will report to."

  This spirit, alien, or whatever she was must have put her under some sort of spell already, for suddenly Melanie felt light-headed, worry-free and quite prepared for whatever life held in store for her.

  ~ * ~

  The woman had succumbed to the trance. Irena fed the last set of instructions into the remote panel and then set a message on the screen for Reve’s attention. By the time this Melanie Ross got to Amaryllis, she would be acquainted with the ways, customs and appropriate data to enable her to make the easy transition. She would be well able to exist on Amaryllis. The robot would set the capsule down when it reached its destination. This Earth woman would gain the knowledge needed to perform this task or any others should it be necessary.

  Irena’s work was done.

  With one last look at the woman and a glance to ensure all was set in motion for her craft’s return to Amaryllis, Irena prepared to dematerialize and return to Earth. She would die beneath the waters of the largest ocean and end her life in the environment where Amaryllisans felt most comfortable.

  "Farewell, Earth woman," she said, as she left her craft for the last time.

  Four

  Melanie b
linked her eyes and stretched her limbs.

  Peering around, she was still in the small chamber where she’d gone to sleep. How long ago was that? It seemed no more than moments. It was disconcerting, but she instantly knew by the information fed into her brain it had been months.

  Putting her feet to the floor, she pressed a button at the side of the couch. With a faint whirring sound one entire wall slowly slipped back to reveal a scene that made her insides lurch. A world was growing larger by the second as the craft neared.

  Amaryllis.

  Irena’s home. Her new home. If only temporarily. With a soft gasp she looked down at herself. Her outfit was made of soft leather-like material. The fabric hugged a figure any woman would be proud of. Melanie ran her fingers over a slender waistline. Not a smidgen of the plumpness of before remained. Her breasts were still as full, but now were up-tilted and firm. And her legs! She stared down at limbs at least a foot longer than they’d been. This space-traveling business had some good points. Threading her fingers through her hair she pulled a tress forward to see the most beautiful titian mane. It flowed in silky waves to her waist.

  Could she have taken on Irena’s physical features? Perhaps there were distinct advantages to temporarily being an Amaryllisan; her diminutive height and her far from glamorous appearance had been the bane of her life. And she’d wanted long hair for as far back as she could remember. Her numerous foster parents had persisted in cutting it to an unflattering crop. Even Chris had insisted she get it trimmed regularly.

  Glancing about, she looked for the console that would have the switches needed to land the craft safely, and to open up the walls of the capsule to give her access to the rest of the craft. With little trouble she followed the procedure. Everything seemed so simple. Of course the robot did most of the work. She merely had to set it in motion with a few well-placed jabs.

  Melanie looked again to the window and to the world she approached at a startlingly rapid rate. Amaryllis was practically covered by water. Although she’d known this, it still came as a shock to see no land. The high structures were the platforms housing the Amaryllisan population. She caught sight of one of the mountains--the only land left on the planet. From here it looked arid and colorless.

  After she depressed a button near her hand, a screen appeared at eye level on the opposite wall to the window. Lettering came up on the screen and then a whining drone heralded the cut out of the engines. Slowly and with startling grace the ship drifted towards a gaping hole in the top of a massive vessel that was the star-ship Victus, largest and most important of the planet’s ever-circling stations, where she would dock. Victus was about as big as ten aircraft carriers and looked nothing like any of the spacecraft she’d seen in the movies. Numerous arms stuck out like tentacles from the main body and gave it the appearance of some monster.

  In a matter of moments the whine became a soft drone and with the barest thud her craft made connection with a platform in the central hangar of Victus. With a touch of her previous hesitation, Melanie watched as her ship was made secure. It hit her like a thump in the middle just what she’d done. Little Melanie Ross from Sydney, Australia, had actually traveled to the far side of the universe. It seemed inconceivable.

  For a moment everything went dark and her insides flipped over as the craft was lowered deep into the bowels of the Starship. The activity on the landing platform came into view. It was all eerily familiar.

  Another soft whine heralded the last thrust of the engines and then all was quiet.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked on feet that moved of their own volition to the panel beside the small screen where she depressed one of the myriad buttons. The door slid back effortlessly and then she was on the ground beneath the ship. A slight touch of nausea attacked her. She had experienced her first go at self-transportation.

  "Welcome to our planet, Earth woman." A man, at least a foot taller than she and with copper colored hair reaching his shoulder blades, held out his hand. Melanie hesitated a moment before some sense told her it was Shan, leader of the squadron that had left Irena back on Earth. His features were striking and he reminded her vaguely of a Herculean warrior she’d seen in a recent television mini-series.

  "You managed to get Irena’s craft back safely. Reve will be elated." He didn’t look too overjoyed with this feat. In fact he appeared to be eyeing her with downright suspicion. But this was to be expected. Melanie was still coming to terms with the fact he was so handsome, not what she would have expected an alien to look like at all. In the first moments of consciousness, she had known a deep sense of panic as she’d visualized all sorts of weird creatures inhabiting Amaryllis. Every science fiction movie she’d seen in the past had flashed before her eyes. At least he resembled an Earthman and didn’t have a pointed head, no ears and round piercing eyes.

  "I presume you know the facts about me," Melanie said, taking his outstretched hand and touching palms with him in the Amaryllisan greeting.

  He removed his hand hurriedly and bowed his head. He stood back a pace. "It is not for me to discuss this. Reve is most anxious to see you immediately." He had hesitated before speaking, as if pondering what words to use.

  "Where will I find him?" She looked about, feeling nervous and just a little scared.

  Everywhere there was activity. Ships of varying sizes were being loaded and unloaded, cargo being packed and stacked by robots over seven feet tall. These robots had no faces, but a flat surface on the front of the head like a TV screen. Melanie knew by the knowledge installed in her brain, these were scanners, picking up information and passing it on to the inner mind of the robots. Well, it was a computer. Obviously no mechanical object could have a brain.

  Large machines, rather like front end loaders, were moving great containers. More craft than she could count were lined up, parked on piers. The noise was deafening, making it clear why Shan and all the other workers wore ear-pads.

  "He’s in the administrative office. Where else? Reve will be aware you have landed and be expecting you. I won’t keep you. You know the way?"

  "Yes."

  Already he had his ear-pads on. With a small nod of his head, Shan left her and headed towards another craft.

  She swallowed as the old Melanie resurfaced for a moment, but then the new persona she’d adopted pushed her aside. For now, to all intents and purposes, she was an inhabitant of Amaryllis and would act accordingly.

  ~ * ~

  Stretching out her hand, Melanie tentatively pressed her palm over the iridescent panel. Silently the doors slid open and she marched through into the quietness of the interior office. She passed banks of computerized control screens where robots worked diligently at their places. These robots were smaller and more compact than the ones in the loading bay and had two openings on their head, more like eyes. One or two of the six supervisors looked up and a distinctly wary expression passed over their faces, but other than that no one paid her much attention.

  She’d noted with surprise that every male she’d seen so far had flowing hair of copper or gunmetal grey. Every female, and she’d seen only two in the loading dock, and three on the way here, had the same titian hair as her own. Another disquieting fact was they were all beautiful specimens. Not a disfigured, ugly, or even plain face amongst them.

  As she stepped through the door opening, one of these copper-haired men turned from a screen he’d been studying. For just a moment, his face looked ravaged by despair--his eyes cold as they assessed her thoroughly.

  With a small cry of distress Melanie put a hand to her throat.

  "Chris!" Her dead husband’s name burst from her lips.

  This man she knew must be Reve, the commander of this Starship, resembled her late husband so much she must be going mad.

  A small taut pause passed when the air seemed to crackle with tension. "No, I am Reve. You, of course, are the impostor returned from Earth in Irena’s place." His imperious tone was laced with ice. Yet, at some abstract level Melanie r
egistered the deep timbre of his voice did something weird and wonderful to her insides. It slid over her senses like warm chocolate.

  "Impostor! You know who I am. Irena must surely have implanted information in the data banks of the craft that brought me here." She suffered a moment’s fear beneath his scrutiny as he moved to within a foot of her and grasped one of her hands. She dragged it free. "You look just like my husband. At least your facial features are his." Fluttering began in her lower abdomen and soon spread to her extremities. "Do you know the details of how I came to be here in Irena’s place?"

  "Not minutely. I suggest you tell me in your own words." With a small shrug of impatience, or annoyance, he beckoned her to follow him through a door at the end of the room. After closing the door he pointed to a couch at one side of the chamber.

  "Be seated," he commanded.

  It was as deeply padded as the one on the craft had been, but as she sank onto it, its soft luxuriousness did little to suppress the uneasiness engulfing her.

  His unnerving eyes still on her, he sat opposite her.

  "First, could you kindly explain why you bear such a striking likeness to my dead husband? How can this be?" Melanie asked, knowing her nervousness came through in her voice, although she was trying her utmost to conceal it.

  He shrugged massive shoulders. On closer inspection just his face resembled Chris’s. His luxuriant hair of burnished copper flowed unrestrained to his waist, and every part of his body, from his broad shoulders to his solid chest was so much more powerful and impressive than Chris’s had ever been. Following him into the room she’d not failed to notice his powerful legs and body, his trim and taut buttocks, clearly defined beneath the skintight breeches he wore. She found him intimidating. And his eyes, the color of chocolate, were coldly assessing her every movement and making her feel a bit like a bug under a scientist’s microscope.