Artificial Heart

Scott

Night shift. Stuck in the station. Not Scott’s favourite but at least he could while away the hours without having to deal with any of the usual dickheads causing mayhem in the darkened streets. He couldn’t find it relaxing, however, since he had reports to do. Lots of reports. The thought made him swing back in his seat and blow a raspberry.

‘Something wrong, Constable?’

Scott sat up with a start. ‘Michelle.’ He peered through the glass divider. The policewoman was gripping onto a stumbling, bedraggled girl with smudged makeup by the elbow. ‘You’re here already.’ He opened his computer to log their prisoner in.

‘I don’t stuff around,’ Michelle returned with a smirk. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail. Her dark eyes were looking tired.

‘Where’s Rick?’

‘In the car, attending a call.’

Scott typed away as she gave him the girl’s details. Drunk and disorderly. Property damage. Minor assault. The usual. Scott yawned again.

Michelle yawned too. ‘I need my coffee.’

Scott stood, collected his card and swiped the girl into her holding cell. The door clanged shut and he slumped back down into his seat. Michelle disappeared into the staff kitchen.

‘Get me one too, would ya?’ he called.

Scott put his feet up on the bench and yawned again. The chair creaked as he stretched. Then Rick entered and he quickly dropped his feet and straightened up.

‘All right, Sergeant?’ Scott said respectfully.

‘Not much going on tonight,’ Rick said. He snorted. ‘Surprisingly.’

He sat down in one of the seats at the front, shifting his belt and straightening out his legs with a groan. His ginger hair gleamed against the light. There was a spattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. ‘Getting too old for night shifts.’

Scott laughed.

‘Here you go.’ Michelle handed him his coffee.

‘Thanks, darl.’

’You’re welcome, honey.’

They smirked at each other. She was about to sit on the edge of the desk, saw Rick and leaned against the wall instead as she drank.

‘Got an interesting email,’ Rick said.

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘I’ll send it to you.’ He took out his phone and swiped through it. Scott heard a ding as his phone received it. ‘You won’t believe it.’

Scott stared. ‘What is this? Is this from ASIS?’

Rick’s eyes were twinkling. ‘Yep.’

‘You’ve gotta be shitting me.’ Scott laughed. Michelle put her coffee down. ‘This is not real. Good job, though. Looks authentic.’

’It is authentic. I’m not bullshitting you. It’s legit.’

Scott and Michelle looked at each other. She rolled her eyes. Scott looked over at Rick again with a frown.

‘I’m telling the truth,’ Rick insisted.

Scott looked down at his phone again. It contained information concerning the woman involved in the so-called alien encounter in the United States. They were actually looking for her. She was real. The encounter was real. Aliens were real. According to the Australian Secret Service, at least.

’Jesus.’

‘Know of anyone like that?’ Rick said.

Scott studied the woman’s description:

Australian born.

General Australian English of Queensland origins. Specifically the South-East.

Likely Indian ancestry.

Height: 5’7. Build: Slim to athletic.

Age: Anywhere from 30 to 55.

Likely middle-class with an average to high-paying occupation, casual or home-based. Field indeterminate.

Likely lives alone. No children. Possible partner.

Known or unknown disappearances for hours or days at a time. May have been registered as a missing person.

They then listed the dates as to when the woman may have disappeared. They also went on to say that she might have vanished years before and to not restrict their search.

‘This could take forever,’ Michelle said.

‘Yep.’

Scott tried to rifle through his memory but he’d dealt with so many people and it was hard to think on so little sleep.

‘We’ll send the agency all that we have that might fit her description,’ Rick said.

‘Shouldn’t be many.’

‘If any.’

‘You want to do it, Michelle?’

’God, no.’

Rick laughed.

Scott continue to stare at the screen.

‘Are you all right, Scott?’

‘Just thinking.’

A woman’s face suddenly flashed in his mind. Several weeks back. A missing person. A lost female hiker and a fretful sister.

I got abducted by an alien.

Scott’s heart thudded. Did the dates align? He looked up at his sergeant. ‘I think—I think I have a pretty good candidate.’

Rick’s auburn eyebrows shot up. ‘Who?’

*

Prisha stood by the window, twisting her fingers together. Rain pattered against the window. Large, heavy drops left streaks against the glass. It was cool enough that she’d pulled on her thick jumper for the first time for the year.

Prisha sighed. The seasons were changing too quickly. Time moved too fast. Another week had passed and still no Alf. It was the longest time between visits and she was getting worried. Had something happened to him? Was he ever coming back? Didn’t he care about her at all? Surely, he wouldn’t just … do what he did and then leave.

I thought you were a good guy.

At least the news reporting had died down—somewhat. While mainstream media seemed to have lost interest, social media was becoming more and more obsessive. There was no new information, no revelations about the second encounter. Still, the less they knew the more determined they were in discovering the truth. Making assumptions. Making judgements about her. As a woman. As a potentially older woman. She thanked God they didn’t know her skin colour.

It was becoming very difficult to like people right now.

She wished it was as easy to dislike Alf. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Prisha pressed her forehead against the window with a sigh.

Later that morning, Prisha was busy speaking with a client over the computer when she turned at the sound of voices.

‘Just a moment, Pat,’ Prisha said. Leaning over, she twitched open the curtain. Just a couple of arguing kids making their way to school. She dropped the curtain back into place.

She finished up with her client and was just about to fill in some reports when she turned again at the sound of a car pulling up. Like she did several times a day, she went over and checked, expecting nothing, hoping for nothing. Her eyes widened. Her heart sank into her guts.

Prisha was careful to stand out of view as she watched a familiar figure getting out of his police car. He looked different. More intimidating.

She had her wallet bursting with cash. She had plenty of money in her account. A car filled with fuel. She even had a bag packed. If she needed to run, if she needed to hide—she was ready.

Not really.

A second police officer climbed out of the other side—a woman. They briefly studied the street, then her house. Officer Scott’s eyes turned in her direction. Prisha stepped back, the curtain falling back in place. She turned and looked towards the backdoor, thinking, thinking, thinking.

Precious seconds were wasting away. A knock at the front door made her jump. She froze, uncertain what to do. Several seconds later came a second knock. What if she didn’t answer? What if she just stayed put? Prisha hid behind the door so they couldn’t peer at her through the curtains.

A third knock. ‘Prisha Rogers?’ Scott spoke. ‘I know you’re in there. I saw you. You’re not in trouble. We just need some information.’

Prisha released a shuddering breath. Surely, she had a right not to answer. But what would that do? Wouldn’t that prove exactly what they suspected? But what did they suspect? You’re making assumptions. Maybe it had nothing to do with Alf at all. Prisha chewed on the end of her hair like a child.

‘Prisha …’

Prisha went over. Taking another deep breath, she slowly opened the door. And there they were. Standing there as big as houses. Like a bad dream. Like a nightmare. Nobody liked police at their door.

‘What do you want?’ Prisha’s voice was a croak.

‘We just want some information,’ Scott said with an uncharacteristic smile. ‘About the events that happened—’ he glanced at a small electronic notepad ‘—on the 5th and 12 of March.’

‘Why?’

‘Something has come up.’

‘What?’

‘We can’t go into details.’

‘Then I can’t either.’

‘Okay.’ His smile fell away. ‘You told me you were abducted by an alien.’

The female police officer brushed something off her shoulder.

‘I was joking.’

‘Your sister left a detailed report, stating what you told her.’

‘Like I said—joking.’

‘Were you?’

‘Of course!’ Prisha laughed nervously and she hated herself for it. ‘There are things about my life I don’t want my sister knowing about, okay?’

‘Such an odd thing to say, though. Of all the things you could have said.’

Prisha sniffed. ‘You told me to get out and left me alone at the train station.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry about that.’

Prisha sneered. She went to close the door.

‘If you won’t talk to us, then you’ll talk to someone else,’ the woman said suddenly.

‘Excuse me?’

‘There are people looking for you.’

Prisha froze. ‘What—what kind of people?’

She shrugged.

‘Is this a threat?’

‘If you prefer it that way. Are you her? The woman they’re talking about?’

‘What woman?’

‘You know what woman. The woman on T.V.’

Prisha scoffed. ’The “alien woman”, you mean? Get real.’ And she closed the door on their faces.

‘If you change your mind and you want to talk, ring the station,’ Scott spoke through the door. ‘Here’s my direct number.’ He slid a card under the door.

Prisha stood away with her back up against the wall. The two cops murmured something. Then she heard footsteps. Shadows moved. She went over to the window and crooked open the curtain. Scott looked towards her one last time, then got into the car.

They drove off.

Prisha stumbled backwards, then bent over her lap. There was a crushing feeling in her chest that made it hard to breathe. The air wheezed in her throat.

What if they take me?

They will not.

Prisha straightened. Closing her eyes, she got control over herself, then went over and picked up the card. She stared at the number.

There are people looking for you.

What people? She should have asked more questions. Someone in government? The federal police? ASIO? Could it involve the American authorities? What the fuck was on that chip that they were so anxious to find her?

Prisha’s hand shook as she folded up the card and tucked it into her pocket. She folded her arms, then unfolded them to rake her fingers through her hair instead. She was feeling cold but sweat beaded behind her ears. This was bad. This was very bad.

She stopped. She raced to the window again and drew the curtain open. Still, nothing. No police cars. No men with guns. No black sedans and men wearing dark sunglasses. Prisha laughed nervously.

There are people looking for you.

Someone or someones were coming. And when they did, she was fucked. They could lock her up. They could freeze her bank accounts. They could stalk her for all hours of the day, every day. They could blackmail or torture the truth out of her.

They could kill her.

She’d seen a lot of movies.

She’d never be able to see Alf again.

Prisha pinched the bridge of her nose. There wasn’t much she could do. But she might be able to give herself enough chance to see Alf again.

One last time.

She went into the kitchen and picked up her phone. Her sister answered almost immediately.

’Nay, I’m in trouble.’