He checked the dashboard clock. It had only been two hours since he had turned off the main road, yet it seemed twice that. Maybe he should have listened to his wife when she told him he shouldn't be coming out here alone.

Work had played on his nerves for months now. He had come to feel like a caged animal, with no chance of escaping. Long hours, relentless stress, and constant bickering with the management over projects that had no hope of ever being completed in the near future had driven him to this point. He knew if he didn't get away for the weekend, he would end up going back to work the following Monday and turning in his resignation.

Then he really would lose everything.

He looked over to the vacant seat next to him, and wondered if he should have brought his wife along. She had argued with him considerably about his plans. But he simply had to get away from everything and everyone. He wanted to be alone and, at the time, he thought the mountains would be perfect for him.

His father had brought him here on a camping trip that seemed an eternity ago. He had been only twelve years old then, and his father had grown up in this area. Dear old dad had known these woods like the back of his hand, and Ken wished he had the old man there now to tell him where the hell he was. He also wished he had paid more attention to his father when he had tried to teach him the way of these woods.

Ken smiled sadly. It had only been a year since his father had died, but that, too, seemed like a life time ago. He missed his father horribly. The guilt of leaving home to only see the old man maybe every other Christmas had also been playing on his conscience lately. If only he hadn't been so caught up in his career, or if he had chosen to stay closer to home where he could have at least checked on his father other than with the occasional phone call, perhaps things would be different today.

Karen tried to understand how he felt about everything his life was giving him lately, had tried to help him with words of wisdom all the way, but she simply couldn't understand the way he was feeling now. He glanced down at the cellular phone, and wondered if he should call her.

The truck's engine roared as the road disappeared from under it. Ken slammed the brakes hard, but the vehicle continued to slide down the embankment where the bridge had washed away. With a splash that smothered the windshield with mud, the truck met creek bottom and Ken met the steering wheel hard.

When he woke, panic seized him. It was so dark! Why couldn't he see anything?

He quickly realized he must have been knocked out for a while. As he looked toward the drivers side window, he could see the faint speckle of stars hovering over the tree tops. It was then that the pain hit. He reached up slowly, then drew in a quick breath as his hand brushed

against the still moist spot across his forehead. The stickiness of the congealed blood left him wondering exactly how bad the cut was. Gently, he rubbed at the swollen area above his eye. He had hit his head pretty good across the steering wheel.

"Great!" he muttered to himself. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of his seat for a few moments to get control of the knot of fear suddenly welling in his stomach.

"Ken, you really know how to screw things up," he said aloud.

With a sigh, he reached for the phone beside him. He picked up the handset and punched the power button. When the familiar electronic sounds he expected to hear didn't come to him, he let loose a string of curses. He flipped the phone over to look at the display. The lights weren't even on.

"Wonderful," was all he could manage as he tossed the dead unit onto the passenger seat. He was supposed to have called Karen hours ago. She was probably all nerves by now wondering where he was. He frowned. Even if he was able to reach her, he wouldn't be able to tell her where exactly he was. His frown deepened. She would kill him when she got a hold of him again. If he didn't die out here first.

He reached down and turned the ignition key.

Nothing.

Not even a click to let him know the vehicle had an ignition.

He again leaned back into his seat, releasing a deep sigh. Could things possibly get any worse?

Beyond the closed interior of the vehicle, he heard the songs of the night birds as they joined the chorus of crickets and the other animals which roamed in the dark. The backwoods of Arkansas boasted wild life in abundance. He remembered this fact from his childhood as well. Deer, raccoons, squirrels, more birds that he could count! But his father knew the names of every kind. He also remembered his father telling him of the bear, mountain lions, and wolves which roamed the woods.

How was it then, he had thought he would come out here in the middle of thousands of acres of woodland, armed only with a dead cellular phone, his lap-top pc, and a two man tent with a weekends worth of food?

When he and Karen had married and moved to St. Louis, his father had told him

not to forget his roots. Ken had sworn he would never forget. And now… Some good a dead phone would be against a hungry mountain lion.

Just one more little screw up to add to the list.

There had been an old house a few miles back down the road. He doubted the house had a phone. Hell, they would probably be lucky to have electricity. But maybe they would have a vehicle to take him back to the town. Or better yet, maybe a tractor to haul his truck out of the muck of the creek bed. Either way, he would have to wait until morning. This time, he would make sure he listened to his father's advice from so long ago. He wouldn't travel these woods at night without a gun.

But one thing was certain right now...he had to get out of the truck to relieve himself. If only he weren't so dizzy! For moments, the world seemed to turn on end, and he gripped the side of the door for support. Several deep breaths cleared his head.

As he opened the truck door, the sound of the birds and the chirping of the crickets grew. For a few moments, he merely sat, listened and stared at the beauty around him. No where else, he was sure, would he ever have this chance again. The music of nature was lit only by the stars of the heavens. He listened to his own ragged breathing against the staccato of the night birds' chirps, the cricket's chorus, and the babbling water of the creek in the background. How could he have forgotten the wonders of the woods? Never, in his entire life-time of living in the city, would he hear sounds like this from the streets below his and Karen's apartment. This was his childhood come back to life for him. Under the stars of ages, lying on his back with his father close by, camping. Alone with only the sounds of nature itself, reminding humanity of its own roots. If nothing else worked out well during this trip, this moment would never be forgotten.

Then, the familiar tightness of his bladder forced him to remember his purpose for opening the door in the first place. He climbed out of the truck and walked up the side, carefully avoiding the pools of water which had collected from the ruts made by the tires. Finally stopping behind the truck, he unzipped his fly.

"Hello."

"Shit!" Ken nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun toward the voice that had called to him from the night. His heart leapt into his throat as he frantically scanned the area with only the twilight to focus his eyes. He couldn't see anyone! He hurriedly readjusted his pants, not liking the vulnerability of his position.

He started to speak but experience caught up with him and he thought fast. He may have grown up in a small town but, for the last ten years, he had lived his life in the city. Murder was no stranger.

"I have a gun!" he called out, still wondering where the stranger was.

"Do you feel you need one?"

The voice sounded like it was right beside him, but no where could he see even the silhouette of the person who spoke.

"Who are you? Where are you?" Ken called, his voice nearing panic. He forced himself to take deep breaths, forced his heart to stop its racing. He tried to focus in the darkness, to find the stranger who had slipped up on him.

Still, nothing.

The voice didn't answer for several seconds and Ken used that time to start moving slowly back to the still open door of the truck.

"Your vehicle seems to be rendered inoperative. Are you injured?"

That voice! It seemed to be coming from everywhere!

"Look, man. I don't know who you are, but I'm armed!"

"I see no weapon."

God! The guy knew he didn't have a gun! How long had this person been out there? Had he been around since the accident? Had this person already searched the truck while he had been unconscious?

Ken looked to the open door. It was only a few feet away, but he was so frightened now he couldn't make his legs move.

"Are you injured?" the voice persisted. "I can offer assistance."

"Where are you?" Ken demanded, wondering at the calmness of his own voice.

"I am here," the voice responded.

Ken jerked his head around again. Behind him, just a few feet away, he could see the dark outline of the stranger. Tall, thin, motionless.

Ken turned around to stand in front of the stranger. "Who are you?"

"I am here to help you."

"Who are you!" Ken demanded again. If this stranger was here to take his stuff, and kill him in the process, then he at least wanted to know the person's name.

"You are afraid. I do not wish to bring you harm."

"Then tell me who you are," Ken said again, for the first time realizing the strangeness of the figure's voice. It seemed to whisper to him, yet held firmness, and still seemed to come from all around, not just from in front of him.

"My name," the stranger said finally, "is very important to you. I can...tell this. Very well then. My name is Frederick."

Ken stood stilll for several heartbeats. He considered the fact that the bump on his head had been worse than he thought. Just maybe he was imagining this entire thing.

"You are injured," Frederick said, not questioning this time.

Absently, Ken raised his hand to his head, again rubbing at the swollen spot above his left eye. "I hit my head pretty hard."

"May I assist you?"

Ken lowered his hand and straightened, not wanting the stranger to think he was so hurt he couldn't defend himself if he had to. "Do you have a car or truck around? I don't think mine is going to come out of the creek too easily."

Frederick seemed to hesitate slightly before continuing. "I do not have a car or truck here."

"Do you live close by?" Ken asked, slightly confused. Perhaps the man was a hunter or something.

"No," Frederick said, almost too quickly. "No, I do not live near here." He slowly walked closer. "But I have supplies which I may be able to assist you with. You are injured."

Ken remained still, watching as the shadow moved closer. If he could trust his eyes in the dark, Frederick was a good six and a half, maybe seven feet tall, but very thin. Yet even with the man's size, the twilight of the stars seemed to illuminate everything except the stranger.

Ken's nervousness grew. He wanted to dart for the truck, to jump inside, to lock the door and hope that the stranger would just walk away and leave him alone. But given his options, the distance he was away from the nearest house that he knew of, and not really knowing how bad his wound was, he found he really had no other choice than to trust the stranger. At least for now.

"I hit my head pretty hard," he said again as Frederick came closer.

The stranger reached up and placed his large hand firmly around Ken's arm, then walked him back to the door of the truck. Ken was amazed at the gentleness of the man. As Ken sat down on the trucks seat, he heard what sounded like velcro straps. He quickly turned his head, afraid that Frederick was pulling out his own gun or something.

"I am unarmed," the man said, as if knowing Ken's thoughts. "I am only retrieving a medical device."

"A medical device?" Ken asked, clearly confused. Who was this man? And why did he talk so strangely?

"It is a device which I use that can more accurately assess the damage done to your body."

"Are you a doctor or something?"

Frederick paused again, then continued, "Something like that."

Ken watched as Frederick's large hand withdrew a faintly glowing object no larger than a pencil. The tip was glowing deeper red than the rest of the device. It was nothing Ken had ever seen before.

The small red light cast an eerie glow across Frederick's lower features and Ken could see he was dressed in clothes unlike any he had ever seen. Form-fitting, silvery fabric covered the man's chest and arms. Ken strained to see his face, but realized instantly he couldn't.

Frederick moved the glowing device closer to Ken's face and he flinched, noticing that the redness of the light grew in intensity. He heard a soft humming.

"What the hell is that thing?"

Frederick ignored the question. "You have a slow leakage in one of the sub-surface arteries behind your sinus. This will help decrease the blood flow until the help arrives."

"Help?"

"Yes. There are surveillance vehicles on their way to this area. They will be able to find you when they arrive."

Ken felt his heart begin beating faster again, though this time it was not from fear of the stranger killing him, but from fear of the thoughts that were racing around in his head.

"You aren't from around here are you, Frederick?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Your voice. Your clothes. I don't know what this device is you're using, but I know for a fact no doctor I've ever known of has a device to stop blood from seeping from a wound without stitches or something."

"What are stitches?"

That was it! Ken didn't have to ask any longer. Either this person was from a foreign country… or from a lot further away.

"You are growing frightened again," Frederick said. "Please attempt to remain calm.

Excitement will increase your blood pressure, adding further duress to the sealing wound."

Ken looked toward eyes he wasn't even sure were actually there. He still couldn't make out the face. "Where is your ship, Frederick?"

The man stopped his movements abruptly, as if his hand had been physically grasped. "I do not know what you mean."

Ken licked his lips nervously. He was still afraid, but curiosity was taking over now. He had always believed in what he was thinking. Ever since he was a boy, going to the theaters to see the old science fiction flicks on Saturday afternoons, he had believed in this. "You're not from this planet are you, Frederick?"

"Please do not speak any more. Your heartbeat continues to increase."

"Why are you helping me, Frederick? You're not about to take me with you to the mother ship are you?"

At that, the stranger actually laughed a little. Then, apparently finishing what he had been doing, he reached into his pack for something else. "Mother ship? You are truly representative of your species humor. And rather quick with reasoning. How may I address you?"

Dear God! This was really happening! It wasn't a delusion! He could actually feel the aliens breath across his face, could actually feel the effect of the device that had been used on his head! He could feel the fabric covering the aliens leg as it brushed against his own hand! Wait until Karen hears about this!

"My name is Ken," he said. "I'm here on vacation."

"And a very unfortunate start for your vacation Ken." Frederick said absently, as he withdrew a box from the pouch strapped to his waist. The box was large enough to fill the alien's hand as he held it in front of him. He pointed it toward Ken. It began making a series of quick chirps and beeps.

"And why are you here, Frederick?" Ken asked, wanting to say a million things, but not knowing how to start. He suddenly felt completely stupid. All his life, he had dreamed of this moment, and now look at him--unsure of what to say!

"We were performing low altitude sampling when we discovered your vehicle here. We scanned and determined the vehicle contained a life form. I am here to assist you, but I can not stay for long."

"We?" Ken asked. "There are more of you here? Now?"

"Please," Frederick interrupted. "If my superior knew I was speaking with you now, he would be most displeased. I assured him you were unconscious."

"I just woke up a few minutes ago."

"I know. My sensors informed me you had awakened."

"Then why are you here now?"

"My sensors also told me if your hemorrhage was not rectified soon, your life functions would cease."

"Hemorrhage! I thought you said I had minor bleeding!"

"Please, do not excite yourself. I am not quite finished yet."

Ken slumped back in his seat, releasing a deep breath. How in the hell would he ever make anyone ever believe this was actually happening? He considered the thought for several seconds as he watched the alien continue to touch the box he was holding. He appeared to concentrate intensely on what it was telling him.

"Frederick, do you know how long I have been waiting to meet someone from another world?"

"My readings indicate you are approximately thirty one of your planets rotational cycles old. I assume you have been waiting most of this time."

Ken actually chuckled a little at that. "It's amazing! You act like meeting me isn't affecting you at all!"

Frederick slowly lowered the object he was holding. "I apologize if I offend you, Ken, by not relaying my elation in meeting you. You are the first human I have spoken with in all my travels."

"Offended? I'm not offended for God's sake! You just said you saved my life, and I can offer nothing in return."

"No," Frederick said slowly. "You can offer something in return Ken. Soon, what you call a 'helicopter' will be arriving in this area, tracking my ship. If you want to repay me for my service to you, then do me this honor."

"Anything Frederick."

"Tell the persons aboard that you have this message from my people. Tell them to prepare, for there is a terrible day coming for us all."

Ken stared at him, wanting so desperately to see the face that was speaking to him, wanting to really see the person whose voice seemed to fill his entire head all at once. "I don't understand, Frederick."

The alien reached into his pouch again and withdrew another object. He took Ken's hand firmly in his own and Ken realized for the first time the alien had six fingers. Somehow that didn't surprise him.

"Take this with you, Ken," the alien said, lowering something ice cold into his hand.

Ken looked down at the dully glowing object. Cobalt blue light seeped from what appeared to be some kind of stone, but the light didn't flood anything past his own fingers.

"It is a stone from my own planet," Frederick said. "It is called a Memory Stone. It is comprised of an element not found on your planet. It will be proof enough of my being here to validate my message."

For several seconds, Ken allowed his eyes to drink in the beauty of what his new-found friend had given him, before raising his face to look back toward the alien. "I still do not understand."

"Soon, Ken, your people and my own shall meet. The time has not arrived, as your people are not yet ready. But we shall meet again. Soon. If our two peoples are to survive, we will have to learn to work together quickly. There is an ever growing, evil presence coming to the galaxy. One we must face together."

Ken watched as the alien began to move away slowly.

"Tell them, Ken."

"I will, Frederick," Ken stated, already hearing the distant whump of helicopter engines in the distant background. "But what evil are you talking about?"

"Someday, Ken, I promise, you and I will meet again."

"How will you find me?"

The alien reached up, and touched a long finger to his own head. "Your memories and my

memories are now one, Kenneth Barton. Tomorrow, after you have slept, you will be able to see my face in your own mind. You will also know how the Memory Stone works, and you will be able to prepare your people to meet my own. Use the stone wisely, Kenneth."

"But what about..." Ken watched as the alien walked back toward the trees, then disappeared into the shadows of the night. Ken strained his eyes to look past those shadows, to catch a glimpse of the man again, but couldn't. The sound of the helicopter engines were growing steadily and Ken realized for the first time the pain above his eye was no longer bothering him. Reaching up slowly, he allowed his fingers to brush against the smooth skin of his forehead. Where the cut had been before, he could feel no mark now.

Suddenly, the entire area around his Explorer flooded with light as the helicopter broke over the tree tops. Ken looked quickly over his other shoulder in the direction that the alien had departed and, for an instant, he thought he could see another light streak up the side of the mountain, then climb even faster toward the night sky.

Ken heard the whine of the engines of the helicopter, and felt the spray of water from the creek blown by the powerful blades. He knew the chopper was landing somewhere close, just as he knew he would soon be on his way home.

He had a wonderful story to tell Karen and the rest of the world. He didn't know how he would be able to tell the rest of humanity about this night, but he knew he would have help.

He closed his hand firmly on the coldness in his right palm. The blue light of the Memory Stone filtered though the skin of his fingers. He heard the stones of the creek bed crunching under booted feet and he closed his eyes. He leaned his head back against the seat. His life had just changed forever.