Dolores knelt on the floor alongside the now prone llhaesa, professionally and personally seeing to the health and well-being of her client, while all around her, pandemonium reigned.

While what happened moments before left her stunned and shocked, there was no time to review and contemplate this event – llhaesa might need medical assistance, and until emergency medical technicians arrived, Dolores chose focus on llhaesa.

Quickly glancing around the room, Dolores saw that, besides her and llhaesa, there were the three members of the filming crew, as well as two people who worked in the adjacent office, and another that worked upstairs.

The others were talking about flashes and singing and changes and knocking things over, each sharing what they saw, sometimes with more than one person talking at the same time. Occasionally they would look upon Dolores and llhaesa, using words like ‘unbelievable,’ ‘impossible,’ and one offered with finger pointed at llhaesa, ‘transformed.’

Dolores could hear the words, though not all of what they were saying registered in her mind. Yes, she thought, I saw what happened; and yes, those words apply, excepting they ignore the fact that llhaesa is here, and… Tim is gone.

Again looking around, Dolores saw her office as dishevelled and in disarray. A chair and table lay upended and upon their sides; a lamp and film equipment lay upon the floor; and one window allowed the cool and raw weather of out of doors to filter in; glass lay strewn on the floor just below the window.

“Llhaesa, rest easy, you have been through what must be a horrific experience, not to mention an energy draining experience.” Dolores softly talked to llhaesa, offering reassurance and words of encouragement. “Help is on the way. We will take you to the hospital, and evaluate your condition. How are you feeling?”

Llhaesa looked up at Dolores and smiled, though rather weakly. In truth, she felt exhausted, both body and mind. The reclamation required intense energy, and the flaws in the genetic masking undoubtedly supplied this energy, but it sapped her strength. Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could still see traces of the powerful and intense flashes. Since it seemed the others retained their vision, when the transformation peaked, their eyes must have closed as the flash and light increased in intensity.

Slowly, thoughts trickled into and through her mind, now remembering “Ronnie… Addison! Serada! Goddess, what will the girls think of this change?” Llhaesa then followed with, “Jahrae!”

Llhaesa was apparently unaware of blurting out the four names. As she did so, Dolores listened intently, recognising the first three spoken names, but who was the last person mentioned. Was it even a name?

Playing an educated guess, Dolores began to ask, first stopping to ascertain she had correctly heard llhaesa’s name. “Llhaesa – do I have that right –la.hay.ess.sa – llhaesa?”

“Yes, that is right.”

“Thank you. Who is Jahrae?”

Llhaesa again looked up into Dolores’ eyes; Dolores immediately observes the very probing and piercing blue eyes of llhaesa – and immediately fashions an impression: this person normally would not miss much going on around them. Dolores continues with the evaluation and impression: eyes that project trust, welcoming, and caring, someone who carries compassion through everything they undertake in life.

Llhaesa interrupts the impromptu personal evaluation by answering, “Jahrae… is my wife.”

“Not Ronnie?” Dolores is stunned yet again. Ruh roh.

Llhaesa softly sighs – sorting through the recovering thoughts is obviously painful, the pain coming from the increasing comprehension of how an old and new life commingle and complicate. “Ronnie is Tim’s partner. I married Jahrae before meeting Ronnie… as Tim.”

Llhaesa paused, searching the now rapidly reassembling and sorting thoughts, the ongoing organisation helping to guide her following words. “Dolores, before we go any further, I must explain something else for you, to help you comprehend.”

“Yes? What is it, llhaesa?”

Llhaesa draws a deep breath, and then blurts out the words. “I am not of this world.”

Seconds pass before Dolores’s mind grasps and processes llhaesa’s words; she is not sure she heard correctly, and if she did, not sure of what llhaesa intends to convey.

“What do you mean by ‘not of this world? Define ‘world,’ and explain why you are not ‘of this world.’ While you are at it, what is ‘your world’?” Dolores asks, wondering if llhaesa is delusional – until she recalls what just unfolded. OK, so she is probably not so delusional.

“I was not born on this world. 51 Pegasi. Look up information on 51 Pegasi, my world is the fourth orbiting that star.”

“But how did you get here? How did – what just happened to Tim?”

“Tim was fictitious, the result of genetic masking. I will attempt to explain, though I only surmise, since I have not studied the equipment and the science used. This… was done against my will, as punishment.” Llhaesa stopped for now, knowing that the explanation would be far longer, and she too tired for a long explanation at this point.

Dolores was not ready to give up. The EMT’s would arrive shortly, and she wished to understand a bit more before they were within earshot. “Why were you punished, llhaesa?”

Llhaesa gives a basic accounting of what happened to Dolores, her explanation interrupted by the arrival of the EMT’s. Dolores feels confident she had the gist of the basic story, and senses she hears the truth, however incredible it all seems.

The EMT’s check vital signs, and see that there are no immediate health concerns. Dolores gives them a sanitised version of what happened, omitting the transformation, just relaying a story of collapse. Llhaesa is loaded onto a gurney, and brought downstairs to the waiting ambulance. Dolores climbs in the back of the ambulance with llhaesa.

Once underway, Dolores placed a call to Chief Endicott, and requests that he meet her at the hospital emergency room immediately, and the Chief promises to head for the hospital.

The hospital was but a three-minute drive from her office. The EMT’s wheel llhaesa inside and into the emergency room patient area, where they shift her onto a hospital bed, and inform the attending nurse there is no immediate issues, but that the patient will need evaluation. The nurse quickly appraises the situation, and then both she and the EMT’s head in separate directions.

Dolores looks for and finds a chair, pulling it alongside llhaesa’s bed. “Llhaesa, we haven’t much time before the doctor comes to check you out. I have asked the Chief of Police to come here. He is a good man, and he will help us, once I explain what unfolded – and he checks on the story with the others that were with us when this unfolded.

Please leave things to me for now – the less most of this staff knows, the better. I fear this will eventually be headline news, and worse – I suspect the government will be quite interested in you. It is imperative we get you out of here, but for now, we need to make sure you are healthy, and run some tests to see if our medical needs and practices might prove harmful to you.”

“Dolores,” llhaesa began, “there are no issues of biology. We are of the same species.”

“How can that be – you just told me ten minutes ago you were from another world.”

“It is yet another long story, but the short version is we have common ancestry – and diverged 15,000 years ago, via the active interference of an unknown people who seeded numerous worlds with various species of animals, including us. There are but minute differences in our DNA.”

Stunned again – or so Dolores felt in that moment. She had an uneasy feeling that stunned would be a normal mode of existence for some time to come.

The doctor arrived; Dolores considered Dr. Sullivan to be trustworthy, as well as a good friend. Dr Sullivan was of average height, in her mid-thirties, and rather cerebral looking, but with a country bedside mannerism with her patients.

Chief Endicott arrived seconds later. The Chief held the position for the last 25 years, and closed in on retirement, with dreams of fishing and sailing never far from his mind. Both the doctor and the Chief heard the short version of the incident, both rendered sceptical looks that melted down via Dolores’ determined insistence, and both succumbed to the story and vowed to help.

Dr Sullivan recommended they call in a specialist on anthropological DNA, which Dolores quickly assented to doing. She saw to llhaesa’s admittance under the name of Tim Salston, and then arranged a quick move of llhaesa out of ER and onto one of the patient care floors.

Since there was ample bed space available, a private room proved a quick find, the better for mitigating spread of the story.

John Carlson, expert on biological anthropology at a local college, arrived a half hour later, now taking his turn at hearing what he deemed ‘a whale of a tale.’ Looking at the serious faces around him, he had no chance to question whether this was humour, and went about his assigned task professionally. A nurse arrived, and drew blood, with part of the draw given to him; John trod off to begin analysis of llhaesa’s DNA.

“Dolores,” Chief Endicott, now weighed in with his take, “we cannot keep her here for long – no later than tomorrow afternoon, and we have to find another place for her.

You mentioned others saw this, saw the flash, and saw the damage. People talk, and someone will hear that talk, someone who might wish to dig deeper, and then all hell will break loose. If we wish to keep her safe, to help her, we have to bring her where she cannot be found.”

“I agree Chief, and I think I know the perfect place to use.”

It might prove perfect from the standpoint of detection, but not so perfect from the standpoint of llhaesa willingly remaining there.

Dr Sullivan re-entered the room, talking of llhaesa’s need of sleep, to which llhaesa assented. The doctor administered a sedative, while Chief Endicott arranged for one of his officers to guard the room.

Once the officer arrived, Chief Endicott and Dolores headed for her office to secure things, and more fully discuss the days astounding event.