“Anyone could be one of them,” Sandra told Dr. Maurice.
“Could I be one of them?” he asked her, adjusting his hat, as he did whenever he asked her about them.
“You more than most,” she said. “That’s why you specialize in helping people with my particular type of delusion. You want us to believe that we are delusional.”
“Quite the contrary,” said Dr. Maurice. “I want to help you remember, not forget. My therapy uncovers the memory behind the memory, helps you to understand why you are having these so-called delusions. Once we do that, you will be free.”
Sandra sighed. She tried to conceive of a life in which she was free from the memory of alien abduction that had tormented her for as long as she could remember. It was the classic story; she was lying on a table under a bright light surrounded by beings that she knew were not human.
“They were communicating with me,” she told Dr. Maurice, when he asked her to describe the memory in detail. “But not with words. They were talking to me inside my head, telepathically.”
“What were they saying?” he asked, again playing with the hat that Sandra suspected he wore to hide a bald head.
“Well, they were talking about their plan to unleash The Plague on humanity, to prepare the planet for colonisation.”
Her other therapists had told her that The Plague was probably the reason for her delusion. This was certainly a time of great angst for the entire human race. The Plague that had afflicted all of humanity just after she was born had not made people sick or die, as plagues of the past had done, but had made them sterile. And it had caused many members of her generation, herself included, to dedicate their lives to environmental activism. Most did so in the hope that Mother Earth would forgive them and restore their capacity to procreate, but not her.
“So you think aliens unleashed The Plague to end humanity,” Dr. Maurice clarified. “Why not just kill us all instead?”
“Because they’re not evil,” said Sandra, surprising herself by how defensive she felt of them. “They knew that if humanity continued, it would destroy itself and the planet. They had to end humanity to save the planet, but they didn’t want to inflict suffering or end a life that had already begun.”
“Very good,” said Dr. Maurice, as if she’d given him the correct answer in an exam. “So why did they abduct you?”
“To study me,” Sandra said with less certainty, “I think. They said I was courageous for volunteering – as if I would volunteer to be probed by aliens! This part doesn’t really make sense. But I do know that they were planning to come here, to live among us, so they could start undoing the damage that humanity has done to the planet. And that’s why I became an environmental activist, because I believe that if we can demonstrate to them that we, humans, have the capacity to save our planet, they will allow us to continue.”
“A common misconception,” said Dr. Maurice, but refused to elaborate. “What else do you remember?”
“Well, I remember feeling scared, and them telling me not to be scared, that everything would be okay. And then they said they were sorry, this would hurt, but only for a moment. I felt a sharp pain in my head, right here.” She indicated a spot just above her forehead. “And then I couldn’t hear them anymore. And everything went black.”
“Can you remember what they looked like, Sandra? This is very important.”
“What they looked like? Oh.” No therapist had ever asked her that before. They weren’t normally interested in the details of her abduction but in how it made her feel or what it symbolized. Sandra closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the beings. At first she couldn’t see anything but the bright light, but then she saw a face. It was a human face, kind and gentle. But on its head, just above its forehead, was a protrusion, like a small horn.
“They look like us, except for one thing.” Sandra opened her eyes.
The doctor had taken off his hat, revealing his bald head, and was pointing at a small round scar above his forehead. “It’s what made us telepathic,” he said. We had to have it removed before coming here. But when the time of colonisation begins, we will have it restored. You see…”
Sandra ran out of the office and into the elevator, trembling in shock.
As she descended through the building, the doctor’s words sank in: “I want to help you remember… A common misconception… It’s what made us telepathic.” Us, not me. And when she parted her hair and looked at her reflection in the elevator mirror, she found the same small scar on her head. She too was one of them.