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“Yes, a very good day thanks.” I waited for an expansion on the comment but Veronica just leaned back into the chair, her skirt rumpled up to her ...aked mid-thigh. She stretched her arms towards the ceiling, yawning, and I watched her breasts perk up within her roomy sweater. “Fancy a nightcap?” I asked. “A brandy or something?” “Are you having one?” And before I could reply, she said, “Yes, I will thanks. Scotch and dry ginger, please. With ice.” At the drinks cabinet, I mixed Veronica’s. One figure was clad in a bulky white space suit, and waved an instrument in the air while watching a glowing display. Looking towards the other figure, dressed in a black and silver combat suit, she reported "Oxygen, carbon dioxide, nitrogen, . . . No bacteria, viruses, or poisonous gasses detected. Air is breathable." With that the black and silver clad figure removed her helmet with a hiss, and took a deep breath, adding "If not a lil' stale." This was Silvia "Silver" Lancaster, captain of. Dempsy was still a little in shock; "4 oh my god you lucky bastard! Oh sorry sir." Dempsy quickly said. Derrick and Hartwell started to chuckle, leave it to Dempsy to get over excited about technology. They both watched as he tentatively reached out and touched a panel here, a screen there. A moment later he walked up to Derrick and asked, "Commander sir? Anyway I could stay here,... forever?" Only a half smile on his face Derrick turned back to Hartwell before he answered. "Fraid not Dempsy,. Maybe what he holds in his hand today is what aliens will be holding in their hands in the future. ‘Come inside,’ he said closing the door behind her as if he was Igor welcoming her into Dr. Frankenstein’s Transylvanian castle instead of into this Pennsylvania farmhouse. The only thing missing from his diabolic plan to have his wicked, sexual way with Kathy as he planned to do with Donna, was him laughing evilly and hysterically in the background. Trapped in his hypnotic trance of a web, he.
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