Sarah’s Dilemma

INTRODUCTION

As the sun streamed into the kitchen, Isaac Abraham sat drinking his coffee the way he liked it, cold, black, and no sugar. An apple Danish made up for the lack of sugar, some of which flaked off onto his shirt. He didn’t notice as he sat there thinking aloud about the conversation he had with his mom. “Mom said she had to take care of some business and would be back as soon as possible. This was another of her undisclosed trips to which I have no idea where or what matters were so private that she couldn’t tell me. My uncles were just as evasive. She did tell me that on the desk in the office was a box with my father’s picture on it and in there would be a letter explaining everything.”

PART I

I remembered what they had said as he sipped more coffee, “Mom, what’s going on? You’re acting crazy like an old lady who is loosing her mind.”

“Isaac sweetie I’m 90 something years old and I’m allowed some eccentricity.”

“You’re 90? Mom come on, you’re no more than 60 or so. Look in a mirror. You’ve never been a nip & tuck type.” I stopped and then said, “Okay, sure I’ll read it when you leave but you make me crazy, along with Uncle Wan and Uncle Tu.”

Musing I considered more of my home situation. As far as my two uncles’ went, I was not sure from what side of the family they came from. I certainly didn’t have what I assumed was their partial Asian DNA. Uncle Wan and Uncle Tu were tall, blue eyed with dark curly hair. They looked like twins. Tu could be Wan and Wan could be Tu. It was only the tone of their voices that allowed me to know the difference, Tu being high and Wan being a bit lower. Me, I’m short with hazel eyes and not Asian in any form and my voice is not alto by any means. I do have curly hair. I’ll give them that. They lived in a separate wing in the house. Mom explained Dad had passed away before he knew he had a winning lottery ticket and before I was born. Mom purchased this huge mansion. My uncles offered to help and become my guardians. It seems to be working arrangement. They are the only family I know.

Speaking of old, Mom’s best friend, who I know as Aunt Kathy, really did appear old, and came to live in a suite made especially for her when I was young. I mean she really did look old. Being polite I never asked or made mention of it. She was like a step mom or nanny to me.

I asked Mom why she had never remarried on my dad’s birthday. She said, “I would know one day and until then it was none of my business.” Then she also offered up an apology and a kiss. She seemed happy except on the anniversaries of Dad’s death and their marriage.

I went to the room and found the box. I sat on the padded bench next to her vanity and opened it.

PART I I

Isaac, if you’re reading this it means you are 21 years old and its time you learned the whole story about you, your dad, your uncles and me. This short diary was passed on to you by my oldest and dearest friend Kathy or one of the people you always thought of as your uncles. I was going to give this to you and answer questions I know you would have. I wrote this soon after the incidents described so they would be fresh and not colored by the years after you were born. I have not made any changes. I will explain later.

The letter began like this:

Under the thick widow’s veil I hid a wan smile. Yes, I was sad but and “but is a word that negates all that comes before it” your dad Jacob would always state, I knew this was the life what we both wanted and we both enjoyed it to the fullest. Consequences known and unforeseen were accepted with eyes wide open. That was 21 years ago today.

Thanks to my friend Kathy the thick veil I wore hid my face from the others. I had to remember where I was. I caught myself just in time. I was shaking nervously and almost began to laugh-cry remembering when he came running to me out of breath. The memory of those last few months passed through my mind in seconds.

It all started while he was shopping early one evening. He purchased an old radio, TV and some other junk and brought it home. “Sarah you’ve got to see this,” yelled Jay as he ran from the workroom. I smelled something electrical burning.

“Jay, what? No don’t tell me. You fried the cable box attempting to get free broadcast so we could save a few dollars?” When it came to electronics he was always screwing something up. Mechanical work he could do. He would have been better off just putting his fingers into a socket than playing with those electrons. I lost count years ago keeping track of the electronic systems he fried while attempting to fix them.

Jay had said, “You remember my Sicilian grandfather owned an electrical and appliance repair store in the Bronx. He would only leave the store for delivery or repair pickups. When he returned my grandmom, a Polish Jew, would take me to her favorite deli where she could be herself and speak in Yiddish. To my parents chagrin I picked up some Sicilian and Yiddish. They wanted me American and no foreign language were allowed in the house. That was the current thought for first generation citizens at that time but a huge mistake that left a cultural hole in my life.”

“Yes,” I said. “You mentioned this a number of times.” I wondered where this was going. He always began his sales pitch with a story.

“There were a lot of small shops selling all sorts of things, a drug store, a shoe store and furniture store and more. They’re all gone now. I remember the storeowners complaining about the big discount stores and people moving out of the city. Adults would talk freely around a kid. We weren’t considered a threat or even people. I would just listen and take in as much I as I could understand between all the languages. I just knew even as a six year old not to ask too many questions.”

“I did remember the streets and sidewalks were cleaned every morning before the stores would open. The sidewalks would be swept and the street cleaners with their metal carts and big brooms would then pick up the refuse pushed to the curbside. The cobblestone street made the metal carts rattle. This was before the use of automotive street cleaners.”

I remembered this part vividly and knew there was trouble coming when he added, “So today, out of nowhere, I decided to visit the old location on Kingsbridge Road and to my surprise the store was still there and under the same name HOWARD ELECTRIC & REPAIR. I made a mental note that it did not state electronics. I went in.

“The old man stood behind the same huge old cash register that was there when I was a kid. He looked up and nodded recognizing me as a potential customer and let me browse about. It appeared as if he concentrated on repairing and selling older appliances. I didn’t notice any new items. After a few minutes he asked me, “If there is anything you might be interested in I would be happy to assist you if I can. My name is Mr. Howard.”

“I started to laugh and I told him, ‘Oh no, not really. My grandfather owned this store a century or so ago. I was passing through the neighborhood and to my surprise the store was still open. I figured why not stop and take a look. Where do you find the parts for these things?’

“So you’re Howard’s grandson was his answer. He seemed pleasantly surprised as a smile broke out across his face. I noticed his teeth seemed perfect.”

Jay proceeded to explain, “Howard Electric was the name of the store. My grandfather just used the Howard name. It was vanilla, and back then being Sicilian or Jewish vanilla was a better business idea.” But he didn’t answer my question either.

“The old guy looked at me rather closely for a minute and then he asked pointing to me, “Where’s your cell phone? Everyone has one. People can’t seem to keep them out of the front of their faces.”

“I only carry a flip phone in case of family emergency. My mom’s got dementia and I’m the point of contact. I have no real use for social media, I answered him.”

“He smiled, chuckled a bit and asked, “Have you ever thought of short wave? It’s a different world. I have a very old set in back. It’s so old and vacuum tube based. It’s also connected to a TV set. Now that is most unusual. The repair ticket was lost or misplaced years ago. No one has ever claimed it, and I can’t even give it away. So its been sitting here waiting.”

“I looked at him and replied, I remember vacuum tubes. And to answer your question yes I have given it a thought every now and then. In fact a neighbor’s father has a modern ham radio room in her house. He told me he talks to his friends in South America.”

“Then I mentioned I used to help Pop out a bit as a kid. There was an old safe in the back workroom. I once took the front door off and reverse engineered the combination for the tumblers. They had been lost and Pop would never lock it because of that. I remember taking a chance and locking and then unlocking it. I was all of 6 or 7 years old.”

“Yes, the safe is still here. Your combination still works. Do you care to see it?” the owner asked with a sly grin.

Jay continued his story to me: “A lot of memories came back. There it was, in the same spot behind the shop door, at least 4 to 5 inches of thick steel at a minimum. It had no wheels and would take a forklift to move it. I just laughed remembering sitting there on the floor in the dark poorly lit shop working the tumblers.”

“He went to the safe, leaned over and showed me that it worked. Of course I didn’t remember the combination.

Then he said, ‘Take the radio and the whole set up. It’s just taking space.” He pointed to the back. “The work you did on the safe paid for itself many ways. He didn’t elaborate; I didn’t ask.”

“He walked to a shelf and pointed to a big box further in the back. It was dark. I remembered it was always dark and spooky back there. The only lights were over the repair table and a grungy skylight that looks as if had never been cleaned. “Take it. It’s yours,” he declared.

“As Jay elaborated, ‘we spoke a bit more. I accepted the equipment only after he and I agreed to a fair price. I made him take the money. What I did as a kid had no bearing on today.”

I remembered Jay pointed proudly stating, “You see the boxes there.”

Those boxes sat on a shelf for some time. Finally one day he decided to work on it. He said, “I was considering alternatives to the Internet and all that facebooger garbage and figured why not.”

He took the things apart. They had been kept sealed and looked in pretty good condition. Upon closer inspection Jay said he had found a yellowed envelope stuffed deep inside. Then Jay, Mr. Cook The Electronics said in a solemn tone trying to impress me, reassure me, or himself, “You have to remember and consider the space needed to keep vacuum tubes cool. I could have started a fire. I was going to throw it out but there was another envelop, even more yellowed with age.”

Jay pulled the envelopes out, opened both and showed them to me. The first document was in a language I had never seen written anywhere. It looked like Sumerian for all I knew. However the second document I read was in English and a piece of cake from the looks of it too.

****

On the day we took the leap I remembered him calling to me stating:

“Sarah he said, no, no, seriously, really this is strange and so weird. It worked! Just like that! I cleaned everything and plugged the system in. I began tuning the frequency modulator and this strange station came on. I entered a contest too. Look and…” he started to say.

I interrupted, “This is a joke right? You what? Are you totally out of your mind? You’re the security nut. Don’t do this, don’t enter that, yada yada yada.” But when I saw the screen and the strange background view, I instinctively knew this was different. “You played into a good scam is what you did,” I said. With my eyes on the strange looking creature on the screen I said to Jay, “Okay Jay, tell me. This had better be good.”

He did and ended by stating and I quote, “That if we won we would be getting a call in an hour or so and if we wanted to accept the prize a representative would be visiting in a few days real time.”

I shook my head and asked, “Real time, what does that mean?”

“Don’t know,” was his reply with a sort of questioning look and his hand doing that sort of propeller twist thing, a what the hell thing he did when he was stumped.

I was about to laugh in his face when the phone rang. I never answer the phone unless I know the caller. Jay on the other hand would always answer just to have some fun. Once he answered and said, “This is the orbital weapons laboratory. You have reached an insecure mind and have been GEO located by our satellites. Please put in your security code or be blown to bits.” The funny or the not so funny thing was who ever made the call thought he was serious and that persons’ boss called to find out what was going on because his employee was in the corner hiding. I personally thought that anyone making cold calls should be made of sterner stuff.

Back to this nuts-o contest thing, I remember his face when he got the call. I though maybe someone died until I saw the smile break out. He hung up and said, “We are one of ten who won it.”

“Yeah, right. And they know our language just like that, and taxes. How much do they want us to pay for all this so they can validate it and steal our money? You’re a turkey, a certified dope and a veritable nut case!” I said. I was laughing but I was serious too.

Jay said almost pleading, “No, it’s not like that. The representative will be here in two days to go over what it is, how it works along with any potential pitfalls. This is real.”

That’s all I had to hear, pitfalls. “I’ll be polite when this representative comes, but count me out of your dumb-assed schemes.”

“Just give it an open mind. Have you ever seen a station like that? The phone number worked. It just might be legit. Come on. There is no obligation.” He finished with that not quite honest smile he has. I knew what it meant. It meant he wasn’t so sure himself.

I turned and stomped back to my art studio. He’s one nut case and I married him.

Two days later the phone rang. I never answer it unless, and, well you already know that. He answered it.

“The rep will be here in ten minutes,” he hollered from his workroom.

“Rep, what rep? What? Oh shit, you’re kidding me. I’m not even ready. I forgot all about your silly contest.”

I rushed about and fixed my hair. “What do you want for a ten-minute notice?” I asked him when he gave me that you’re not going out like that look.

The doorbell rang and we both answered it. He was rather handsome, very tall and did I mention handsome? He wore a well-tailored deep blue suit with thin off white pinstripes. On his feet were these very fine and had to be expensive cowboy boots. I could tell he worked out. He had a nicely trimmed mustache, dark curly hair, a nice tan and these deep, deep blue eyes that penetrated my very being. If there were gods, he had to be one. He shattered that with a squeaky, “Hello. I’m The Representative and energy accountant from the contest. May I come in?”

We ushered him into the kitchen big room. He looked about and smiled. “Nice place you have here. We seldom journey to these parts, things being as you might imagine.”

I looked at my husband, gave him a what’s he talking about rolling my eyes and looking back at our guest.

Jay shrugged his shoulders and replied, “No, I don’t quite know what you mean.”

I quickly interrupted, “Wait a minute,” and piped in, “What he might mean is you look like everybody else and not like that being or whatever it was on the screen. How do we know this is not some sort of scam and…”

He quickly morphed into the being on the screen and back again. “Satisfied?”

“And you meant by these parts?” I asked almost not wanting to know. If I were standing I might have buckled at the knees at his answer.

He answered in a very polite and somewhat formal manner as if talking to children. “Your planet is not welcoming to, let’s say, anything different, okay? Can we leave it at that and get down to what I have to present to you lucky two?” At that he smiled a smile that warmed the room. We looked at each other, grinned and simultaneously said, “Sure let get on with it.”

He pulled out two pieces of paper and handed a copy to each of us. He instructed us, “Please read them. They are the same. You may swap them to make sure. This is a rather simple prize with nothing untoward.”

We did and as we read we kept looking at each other and at him. He was beaming, or laughing, I wasn’t sure maybe both.

“While you’re reading that, I need a quick blood dot from each of you to make sure we have the genetics correct. Please, each of you stick a finger out.”

At this point I figured what the hell, I said as I stuck my middle finger out with a giggle wondering if he understood the gesture. Jay did the same.

“I didn’t feel a thing,” said Jay.

“Me either,” I said

“All I need is to see your finger. Our instruments are not as crude as yours. Though you have to do it on your own volition for them to work,” The Rep answered.

I nodded as I laid the paper in the table. I looked up and said, “Let me get this straight. We can any time we want get our bodies and mind back to any set age we choose? However, the cost, and there is a cost, you call it an energy cost is for every hour we spend in this age state we will loose 1 to 2 days maximum of our end of life-time depending upon the energy cost and our actual life time expectancy as based upon our genetic make up.”

He nodded. “Correct,” he said. “Energy can be transferred, altered but never created or destroyed. The laws of the universe are the laws of the universe. If you take you have to give. It takes a lot of energy to allow these transformations.”

“And what do you get? What’s your fee?” I asked waiting for the real shoe to drop.

“We get 2 hours of energy from each day you loose. You’d be surprised what we can do with it.”

“Yes, I guess we would,” answered my husband. “So this is it, this simple contract?” He pointed to a line. “We simply can’t tell anyone?”

“And who would believe you?” he answered laughing. “By the way, you can no longer get our frequency. I don’t know how you did it to begin with. We are true to our word. You won it, though we cannot have too many others discovering our existence just yet, maybe in a few of your centuries; just not now.”

That we all understood only too well.

The Representative stated, “This is official. Now I need a picture of the time age you would like to be. You only get one age each. Your body will morph into that age with all the proper life functions associated there in. Your memory however will maintain the current seniority that you are presently even as you age. Again the age you pick is the age you will drop back to.”

We had photos of us when we were dating in our forties. I ran and got them. We picked our picture ages and handed them to him.

“Now, I suppose you are wondering how this occurs. Am I correct?” He asked while both of us were smiling like idiots and nodding yes.

I was giggling like a little kid. “This has to be a dream. Jay, pinch me.”

Jay grabbed my hand. “No dream. It’s real, so far, more than real.”

He waited for us to stop and pay attention. He reminded me of a teacher who would wait until the class settled down before beginning his next sentence or my father’s disapproving but not over the line…yet look.

“Are you two ready yet?”

“Yes, I said.

“Yep,” Jay said.

“You simply say ‘Lets Go Back’, while holding each other’s hands. It’s as simple and wonderful as that. And when you want to return to your current selves you say ‘Done’ holding each others hands again.” And with that he stood up and disappeared.

I looked at Jay. He looked at me. We held each other’s hands and said, “let’s go back.” I was looking at a Jay when he was about forty. He looked at the photo of me and said, “Come look in the mirror.”

There I was all of forty-five in the best shape I had ever been in. I looked at him as he stood behind me looking over my shoulder both of us looking into the mirror. He wrapped his arms around me.

“Remember how sensitive these parts of your body were?” he laughed as he cupped my breasts.

I was wetter than I ever recall being. Its as if every hormone was working overtime to make up for the lost time. I turned around and grabbed his hands and pulled him into the bedroom. We screwed, we fucked, and we made love. We spent a few more hours that afternoon in each other’s arms and then came back to our present bodies. “That should have taken a week or two off our life line,” I said when we sat down for a drink. We were both hungry and exhausted.

The first few weeks we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. It was as if we were teenagers or on a honeymoon.

One afternoon Jay said, “Maybe we should cool down a bit. I am seventy. I have no idea when my real time is supposed to be up.”

“You’re in great shape. The doctor said you have the body of a 50 year old and all that other nonsense,” I answered.

Jay laughed and put his arms around me. “I love you. Who could imagine this? What the hell, why not? He held out his hand. I held his.

“Lets do it. LETS GO BACK.”

Eventually we did back off a bit. We did have work to do and we weren’t kids any more. After a month or two, I began to feel funny. “Jay,” I said, “I’m feeling rather odd these days. I’m not sure. Maybe I should go to the doctor.”

He looked up from his desk and asked, “Do you want me to come with you?

“No, I’ll go and see. Maybe this thing we won is having a wearing out effect on my now body.”

I came back that afternoon. I didn’t know how to tell him.
Jay looked up and said, “Sarah, What’s wrong? What did the doctor say?”

“Jay, nothings wrong, but nothings right.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Jay, I’m pregnant. I’m seventy years old and I’m pregnant. The doctor said I have the internals of a forty-year-old woman. He can’t understand it. He made three tests and they all came back the same.”

Jay looked at me and asked, “What, how, I mean, I don’t know what I mean?”

And then it hit me. I said, “I forgot to mention to The Representative that I had had my tubes ties when I was in my thirties. I had had a lot of issues and getting pregnant was a danger to me. The alien representative fixed my body completely and I mean completely. I needed birth control. I’m pregnant.”

Jay got up and reached out. I reached out. “Let’s go back.”

We made love long and slowly all that afternoon. We stayed entwined together that way for a long while before returning early the next morning. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. When I woke up Jay was dead.

Some how The Representative knew what had occurred. He showed up and explained, “Energy transfer,” he said. He assured me, “You would remain younger for years to come. We hadn’t considered that possibility. We’ll take responsibility.” And then, like before he disappeared.

WALKING FROM THE GRAVE SITE

As I left the gravesite I said to Jay, “Jacob Abraham I will miss you for the rest of my borne days. The baby growing inside me has changed the game. I know you can’t hear me and we can’t go back. God, I miss you already,” I said beginning to sob.

Kathy’s arm came around me and guided me to the car. Through my tears and veil I couldn’t see clearly but I knew the gentleman holding the door of the limousine was The Representative when he bowed slightly and I heard that voice say, “Ma’am.”

When I think back on that day it played in my head like a video, in what seemed like seconds. It’s funny how memory works.

PART III

“Really did she have to put all that in there?” he groused. “She said she had to leave with Uncle Wan and would be back as soon as possible and something about a contract. In the mean time she asked me to read the letter that was in the box on the table.

Isaac read the long letter his mom left for him a few times. He contemplated all that was presented. He reiterated his earlier thoughts. Mom is a strange one. She claims she’s in her 90’s. Looking at her belays that. Mom can’t be a day over 60. As for my uncles, I never knew from which side of the family they came from. I certainly don’t look like them except for my curly hair. I’m short, pale skinned.

Isaac sat there. Kathy was not there. He began to realize Mom and Kathy really had to be in their nineties. Kathy would be over later. He would ask her about all this but guessed she too was kept in the dark. But how could that be? His other uncle, Uncle Tu was down stairs. He always thought it strange that his uncles lived in their house. It was certainly big enough with separate living quarters but now it made some sense. He needed to speak to them and find out what was expected from him now that he had this information, if it was true.

But instead of going down to talk to Uncle Tu, he quietly treaded up to the old attic office where he knew that old radio mentioned in the letter was covered in a sheet. He pulled the sheet off and was careful not to get the dust flying all about. Still he coughed. He looked at it and wondered if he could reconfigure it to pick up the station his dad did? He did have a degree in electrical engineering. He figured at worst he might be able to see where the changes were made since it was an old tube based system. There might be some tell tale indications.

He didn’t hear his uncle walk into the room and jumped when he said, “I don’t think that’s going to work. I believe I know what you’re planning. Let me tell you more. Are you sure you’re ready?

“After reading this Uncle Tu, or my representative I assume,” Isaac replied and passed the letter on to his uncle. “I think I’m ready for anything.”

Uncle Tu morphed into his real form and back to the human form.

Isaac almost fainted. He swallowed hard. “That was good and all the proof I needed,” Isaac said. He grabbed his uncle’s hand and said, “Listen, I don’t care where you come from, what you are, but for all intents you and Wan and Kathy are my family and I love you all the more. Talk to me. Where is Mom and what’s going on?” And then a question popped into his mind. “Are there others like us, in this situation or something similar?”

Uncle Tu looked at him and responded; “Now that’s a very good question. All I can state right now is what we have done a few times in the past hoping for different outcomes. Right now it’s you, your mom and that’s all. Kathy has a good an idea but not the whole truth. And you may not tell anyone else either. Wan and I will be with you and explain more as time goes on. At least you have a grasp of science that allows us to talk to you in a matter fitting. We’ll see where this goes.”

Tu took Isaac’s hand and said, “Let’s go to see your Mom. She’s waiting for us”. The two of them disappeared.

When Isaac, Tu, Wan and his mother came together Isaac noticed she looked a lot older then yesterday when he last saw her. She appeared tired. “Mom, what’s going on? Are you sick or something? You look…” He stated in a concerned voice. He was truly worried.

She gently put her fingers on his lips to hush him. “Isaac sweetie I’m old just like I’ve been telling you. I’ve been given gifts that I can’t even begin to elaborate, you being the best of all. Seeing you grow into a fine young man is another. I’ve asked to allow my body to assume its correct age. You have a whole life ahead of you. I would be a burden and I am tired, joyful but tired. Now that you know the truth, you alone will have to live it.” She laughed when she said, “besides who would believe you? They’d lock you up. The representatives, your uncles, will help you and be with you. Financially you are well set so there should be no issue there. Be smart. Listen to your mentors. Now, take us back home. No tears. I’m not dead yet.”

Kathy had been listening to the whole conversation. The representatives had considered and now allowed her to be part of the picture. Kathy came in, hugged Isaac and held Sarah’s hand.

****

The next day Isaac came down to the kitchen where Tu and Wan were drinking their coffee same as him, ice cold as usual. He looked at both of them and asked, “What am I supposed to do? Now that I know, what I know how am I supposed to act like a normal human being? Everything I know is either false and or screwed up. If I went to your world, if I ever were allowed, I’d be a freak.”

Wan interrupted him. He looked at Tu and got a nod of approval. He began, “We could help you meet others on this planet in… let’s say in somewhat similar situations interacting with us. I won’t go into detail but think about it.”

Isaac looked at both of them. “You mean I’m not the only one?” He sounded relieved.

“Oh by no means. It’s safer to keep you all apart for our safety and yours too,” added Tu.

“We’ll work on this issue. We could always erase this part of your memory.”

“NO way, I’ll deal with my reality. I’m not hiding behind a memory Band-Aid,” Isaac declared. “Nope Here I am. There you are and we are in this together. You are all the family I have like it or not.”

Tu and Wan smiled and nodded. This was what they had hoped he would state. “That’s a good answer. Your Mom raised you well.”

THE END

Bio: Richard Tornello began writing short stories and poems about 15 years ago after his exile from the Train Wreck Cluster 811 million parsecs from Earth for blaspheming the local political gods.

To assuage his home sickness, he has self-published 4 children’s books including one self-illustrated book of poems.

Rick was the art editor of Quantum Muse and has been published in Aphelion-webzine.com, Orion’s Arm.com, ShortHumour.org.uk, Poetry Hall a Chinese & English Bilingual Journal and has few stories in the anthologies: “A Flash of Aphelion,” “Fantastical Savannahs And Jungles”, “XENOBIOLOGY”, “BLEAKEST TOWERS” and soon to be released anthology “OF POETS, SPIES, AND THE UNEARTHLINESS IN THE TIME OF SHAKESPERE AND MARLOW” coming out in January 2023 where he has a poem written in an early/mid English style. He’s assisted with the translation of some poetry for a Chinese poet.

He studied at The Art Students League in NYC and later picked up a degree in History with an advanced certification in Asian Studies from Rutgers University. Postgraduate studies concentrated in Chinese maritime history.

He with his 2 partners started and owned one of the first nationally based resume database companies specializing in high tech, computer security and various advanced systems of specialized and classified nature.

Hoping to return home, he continues to have a strong interest in propulsion physics and XXXXXXXXXX CLASSIFIED Alien XXXXXXX CLASSIFIED systems and is working with the Allied Space Commands.

He claims he is not insane and not responsible.

E-mail: Richard Tornello

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