"You'll figure it out on the spot. Son, you need to gain experience making decisions in crisis situations. Here, you've been handed a hothouse problem on a silver platter. If you consider yourself mature enough, you'll solve this problem. I believe in you."
"Great!" Richard said ironically and turned to Alex: "Agent Blade, are you coming with me alone?"
"I'll be driving my own car, Lord Rich," Alex replied to the boy. "We have several agents on duty at the scene, so they'll cover our backs."
- Let's go, sir... Can you tell me about your father?
- No, this is classified information.
- And what about the installation with which he was sent to parallel worlds?
- No, this is classified information.
"There's magic involved, right? Our world's technology hasn't yet reached the point of transferring consciousness into a person from a parallel world."
- No comments.
"It definitely had something to do with magic! And is your father really the coolest MI6 agent?"
- Yes... Lord Rich, no questions. You don't have access to most secrets.
The trip was short. Just half an hour later, the procession of a black Jaguar followed by a Bentley passed open wooden gates hanging on the posts of a low fence made of crossbars. The purpose of the fence is perfectly clear-to keep animals from wandering off the farm property. Such a fence is not designed to protect against thieves or prying eyes, as the bars are quite far apart.
The cars passed a spacious cow pen and stopped near a two-story red wooden house.
Richard left the Bentley and joined the special agent. Meanwhile, Alex Blade was talking on the radio:
- Can you see it through thermal imagers?
"Yes, sir, we have sightings," came the words, mixed with hissing, from the radio. "We have it in our sights."
- In case of danger to people, open fire to kill.
- Accepted, sir.
The special agent put the radio in his inside pocket and turned his gaze to the boy.
- Mister Richard, everything is under control. Please.
A nervous, round-faced man with mouse-brown hair emerged from the house. His brown eyes regarded the visitors with concern.
"Who are you?!" he asked sharply.
"Agent Blade, MI6," Alex introduced himself. "And this is Lord Richard Rich, who has decided to personally help his tenants. Are you Mr. Adam Creevey?"
"Yes, sir," the farmer suddenly lost his fighting spirit. He nervously rubbed his palms on his jeans, as if trying to get rid of dirt. "Excuse me, but you... Lord... Uh... I imagined you as a bit older."
"Mr. Creevy," Richard said, bowing his head politely. "You must be confusing me with my father, Gerald Rich. He asked me to look into your situation. Tell me, did you really capture an alien?"
"A big man," thought Mr. Creevy, and he was not even bothered by the fact that the Lord was too young, looking only ten years old.
- Oh! Sir...
Adam didn't know what to do with his hands. He kept putting them in the pockets of his blue work uniform, then thinking it would be impolite to stand in front of the lord with his hands in his pockets, he took them out.
"Don't think I'm crazy, like those idiots on TV... Oh, forgive my French, Lord," the farmer said, catching himself. "Uh... I'm not crazy!"
"Mr. Creevy, no one thinks you're crazy," Alex said calmly. "Otherwise, it wouldn't have been us, but the paramedics and the police. Tell us everything as it happened."
"Yesterday after lunch, the kids and I were in the field, herding the cows into the corral. And then I saw something sitting in the grass. It was so scary! I thought it was some kind of predator. So I grabbed the shovel more deftly."
"Did you have a shovel in your hands?" Alex asked.
"Yes, sir. Well, that's it... I'm sneaking around with a shovel and suddenly, up close, I see that it's not an animal, but it's not a man either. It's small, gray, with huge ears and long fingers. I knew right away-an alien! He must have hidden a flying saucer somewhere nearby!"
"Are his eyes big?" Richard asked.
"Yes, yes!" the farmer rejoiced and nodded. "HUGE EYES! Such big ones!"
Mr. Creevy formed a circle with his thumbs and forefingers and placed them over his eyes, demonstrating the size he meant. Then he continued:
"And he has a huge nose! Not like an elephant's trunk, but bigger than a human's."
"Go on, Mr. Creevy," Alex said.
"Well, I thought that if I hit this alien with a slash, he'd die. So I quietly turned the shovel over-he had big ears, he could hear! So I whacked him over the head with the handle, right between the ears!"
"So what next?" Alex asked.
- All.
"What do you mean, that's it, he's dead?" the special agent asked.
"No, no, sir. I mean, the alien went limp. I grabbed him by the ears and dragged him into the basement. I tied him up and called the constable. I told him there was an alien in my basement, and he laughed and said, 'Adam, go sleep it off!' So I spent half an hour trying to prove to him, I mean the constable, that I was sober.