Alien Abduction: The Wiltshire Revelations. Brian Stableford
the ovarian cysts, more real than the hysterectomy, more real than any of the thousand diseases and hundred deaths I witnessed week by week and year by year at the hospital. It was the realest thing I ever experienced, or ever will.
It’s possible, I suppose, that the time-travelers got the wrong idea. It’s possible that they thought that the adult was attacking me, and that the hand it put to my throat was about to strangle me. It’s just about conceivable that they thought they were doing the right thing, the ethical thing. They were, after all, afraid of what Imhotep and I might have wrought…and, for that matter, of anything and everything else that their project might yet produce.
They didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand.
They were not, after all, adults themselves.
I am an adult. I do understand. I understand better than they did, and better than Imhotep did. Nothing can ever take that away from me, even though it’s no longer my secret, my private torment, my heaven and hell on Earth. Whatever anyone says, it wasn’t twenty past three to me.
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