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Austin Dallas Beaumont"Hi, I am Au-stin. Most Peo-ple call me 'AIIEEEEE!'" |
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Tracking stations in Australia first noticed the strange object entering Earth's atmosphere and passed along its observations to NASA's Houston facility. From there, it was determined that the object was not a high-iron content meteor as was first thought; it was not "falling" as it should have been. As the engineers stared at the glowing screens of their terminals, however, they knew that, whatever this object was, it would be impacting in western Texas in less than 10 minutes.
Had they known then that it was a spacecraft from another solar system, they might not have bothered with impact site predictions. Their hypothesis that this was a dead weight falling from space was at least partially correct, however. Unknown to the scientists, the craft was heavily damaged. Its propulsion system was destroyed, its navigation and communications systems were fried, and its weapons exhausted. Life support was partially functional, however, as was the energy shielding that the craft possessed.
The being inside looked at the damaged control panel and saw that the impact would be cushioned by the ship's energy shield and the inertial dampening field, though he had no idea how he knew this. All he knew for certain was that his head throbbed from what he could feel was a nasty wound on the side of his head. The disorientation and darkness returned and as he slipped into unconsciousness once again. To his own surprise, he actually felt relief as his awareness waned. Something deep inside him knew he didn't want to be awake when the craft impacted the planetary surface, energy shield or not. He would later learn that his craft had crashed and skidded through a small irrigated corn field before coming to a stop a few hundred feet from the Fort Davis VFW Post 419.
When he awoke again, however, he found himself strapped down on a flat horizontal surface with several pinkish skinned aliens dressed in what appeared to be primitive pressure suits looking over him.
In time, they were able to explain to him that they wished him no ill; that they only wished to study him. Rarely had anyone on Earth ever had the opportunity to study a being from another world before. Since he could not remember anything of his past, the alien was more than happy to stay there, at least for a while. They explained to him that he was at a secret part of a place called "Lawrence-Livermore National Laboratory". A long name, he thought, for such a place.
Several months later a young scientist named Gary Uberman befriended the alien. They spoke of all manner of things both scientific and philosophical. In Gary, the alien had finally found someone who could and would tell him about this planet and its inhabitants. It was through Gary that the alien first learned of human emotions, history, habits, etc. It was also through Gary that the alien got his name. Gary figured that, since he'd landed in Texas, he should be given a Texas name! Between the two of them, they soon settled on "Austin Dallas Beaumont". Soon thereafter Gary and all the rest of the scientists were referring to him as Beaumont instead of just "Project 214".
After nearly a year of being cooped up in this facility, Beaumont was beginning to tire of not being able to leave and go where he wished. The things that Gary told him about Earth made him yearn all the more to leave and see these wonders for himself. He petitioned his keepers to allow him to leave for at least a short while but they always refused. Then one day his friend brought him news that gave him hope that he might one day be freed: the inhabitants of this area now knew that Beaumont was there; the secret was out!
Gary showed Beaumont something called a "newspaper" and the lead article was about himself! "Alien Held Captive at Laboratory" read the headline. If these humans were as compassionate as Gary said they were, he'd be out in no time at all once they learned the full extent of his plight.
But then there was Gary Uberman. Gary started calling radio shows anonymously and advocating Beaumont's release. He called TV stations and newspapers demanding that the guarantee of freedom and civil rights be extended to this visitor from the stars. Within a few weeks, Gary had secretly started an organization dedicated to winning Beaumont's release. They would protest by day and circulate petitions by evening. Their numbers swelled as more people were touched by the plight of this alien.
Ultimately, Gary's involvement in these activities became known and he was fired. He kept working to free Beaumont, but as the cry for his freedom became stronger, so did the lab's resolve to keep him. A civil suit was filed, but the lab managed to stall it with legal paperwork. Then one fateful evening, Gary Uberman took matters into his own hands. He managed to gain entrance to the lab and free Beaumont from his room. Together, they tried to escape through the rear gates, but it was not to be.
An alarm sounded. Lights came on. Shouts were heard. And then a shot rang out. Then all was quiet.
The protesters came forward and surrounded them both. Beaumont and Gary had escaped, but a guard's bullet had hit Gary in the neck. As Beaumont knelt over the limp body of his friend, more guards arrived and tried to force their way through the crowd to reach Beaumont. They could not get through. One middle-aged woman stepped in front of the sergeant of the guard and said, "You're on public property now. What are you going to do? Shoot us all? You'll have to, ya know."
The sergeant of the guard looked back onto the lab's grounds and a solitary figure in a suit shook his head briefly and then turned and walked away. The guards retreated into the compound and the crowd waited with Beaumont until an ambulance arrived to see to his dead friend. Everyone was happy that Beaumont was finally free, but there was no celebration that night.
And, with that, he packed his things and moved east to Atlanta and became a member of ARCLight.
With that, he turned and walked down to the street to continue the fight -- the fight for justice.
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