James watched as realization washed over his patient Nicholai. After living his life, James felt connected with the Cosmonaut. His misfortunate life somehow had struck his heart. James felt pity, and admiration, for the man that sat before him. Nicholai no longer looked possessed, no longer seemed to be living in a different world. It was as if James had brought back the old Nicholai, the one that had gone into the make-shift Russian spacecraft without fear and been one of the first out of the Earth's atmosphere. Overall, James enjoyed this Nicholai more. He didn't have a reason, he just knew there was something different. James looked on as Nicholai rubbed his neck, absorbing all that he had learned from a telepathic probing. Then, without warning, he stood up abruptly. He didn't look at James, but instead looked past him to a window with a few of the night sky. The stars, shimmering in the darkness like beacons of light, were beckoning to Nicholai. James felt like he was being overlooked, he felt like a little grain of sand compared to the mission of Nicholai. This fluttered, the thought of being a little grain of sand, through James' brain as the Russian spoke. "I have to thank them. I'm getting a ship, I'm going back there. I need to talk to them."
James intercepted the Russian's thoughts, making sure he could not be tangibly felt as he did so. James configured from the thoughts of Nicholai that the crashed ship that the Russian had arrived on would be the first ship the man would try to go back into space with. However, it had been badly damaged. Reconstruction would be difficult, way to difficult. The Telepath grasped the thought of stealing a ship, and an idea immediately fluttered into his head. Area 51, although slightly abandoned supposedly, would be the perfect place to search for a ship. A ship that had been constructed from supposed 'alien' technology. James rubbed his chin, focusing on the wrench on the table.
"Well, I know you have to thank them Nicholai." he said, telepathically knowing. "However, I'm sure there is no need for you to 'rebuild' your wrecked ship. Especially when the United States Government and Government's around the world have been reconstituting crashed alien technology into their own. They call it reverse engineering. It is a sophisticated subject, however the main idea is that crashed UFO's have been taken to secret airbases and then military scientists have used the technology to create better, more advanced technology for human use. I've also heard of drafted plans for proposed 'spaceports.' Much like the airports we have today, spaceports would be places that spacecraft could takeoff and land on. Area 51 would be a good place to start. And I'm sure we could... apprehend a ship much quicker then fixing up your old ship."
Without asking the Russian on his opinion, James pressed a buzzer placed near the door. Charles voice issued from a small box. "Yes, Sir James?"
James pressed down a black button on the small, black box. Every time he spoke, he had to press the button for his voice to be heard by Charles. "Yes, Charles... I need a flight to Las Vegas, Nevada." James took his finger off the button, and spoke to the Russian. "Area 51 is eighty something miles from Las Vegas, we should fly in from there. There is also prior knowledge that the workers fly in from a special airplane that takes off from the Las Vegas airport."
The Conspiracy Theorist pressed the button again, reverting his attention to Charles. " Make it a private jet, actually. You can fly it."
"That, I can," Charles responded. After a few short moments the Butler spoke again. "We can leave now, sir. There is a private jet sitting on the tarmac and they have no problem with letting us use it, after I had offered a substantial amount of dollars."
"That will be just fine, ready the car."
"Yes, sir."
James turned to Nicholai, and with a sly grin said: "Oh, and if it isn't apparent. I'm coming with you."
Newark Liberty International Airport
It was early in the morning when James and Nicholai, shepherded by Charles, reached the airport. Charles was already inside the jet by the time James had started his ascent onto the airplane. As he climbed the steep steps, he found himself in a lush interior. There were only eight plush seats total, equipped with tables in between them. In the back was a section reserved for caviar and wine, including more expensive and exotic rarities. There were several microwaves, two stoves, and even three refrigerator-like metal rectangles. James seated himself in a chair and fastened his seatbelt. "Ah, Charles please serve us a meal before we arrive in Area 51. I think autopilot can do its proper job for forty-five minutes."
Charles nodded, the cockpit open and visible. "As you wish."
Then the butler turned, focused on the controls, and the plane began to takeoff. James could see Nicholai seated, looking out the window. He began to look out the window as well. He looked into the sky, and began to think about all the possibilities. This would be the first time he had contacted an other-world species, and he hoped he would be able to have an intelligent talk with such advanced beings. He was a little unsure of himself, and as he looked into the stars he felt even more unsure. But, as he remembered Nicholai's determination, he knew he had someone to back him. He wouldn't be alone. He would be with an ally, their goals parallel to each other. The aliens would be the one thing in common, the one thing that had been able to unite the two. "It's time to catch us a ship," James said aloud, awaiting the moment when he would be able to say he had been in space.
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