I woke up to find myself in a white room. A woman dressed all in white was standing beside me, her fingers on my pulse. Had I been sick? Was I in hospital? For a moment I couldn't remember what had happened.

But before I could do more than clear my throat, a man wearing a military uniform of some sort, came into view and stared down at me.

"Gabriella Apperlin?" he asked.

"Yes?" I answered, still confused.

"I need you to get up and come with me," he said in a no-nonsense voice.

"Hold on, Colonel. You'll have to wait until I give her the all-clear," interrupted the nurse with a frown. "She's been out for twelve hours."

"We've wasted too much time already," he grumbled. "I'll give you five minutes. Oh - and can you get her to change into something more suitable?" he spoke over my head to the nurse. "I'll be back in five minutes," he repeated as he left the room.

I looked down and saw I was still wearing my pyjamas.

The nurse checked my pulse again with impersonal fingers, then my blood pressure, before gesturing to a pile of clothes on a nearby chair. "You're fine. There should be something in there that fits you," she said. "Better get a move on, the Colonel doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Where am I? What am I doing here?" I blurted.

The nurse shrugged infinitesimally. "You'll have to ask the Colonel."

I stood up, feeling a bit dizzy, and looked at the pile of clothes. They weren't mine, but they were my size. A pair of jeans, a tee-shirt and pair of sneakers later, I felt better. It was amazing how vulnerable, bare feet and pyjamas could make you feel.

The Colonel knocked once on the door before opening it and putting his head inside. "Ready? Let's go."

I folded my arms and tried to look determined. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happening!"

He frowned. "We haven't got time for this."

"Then make time. I think I deserve an explanation. Why did you grab me like that? Why on Earth didn't you knock at my door like a normal person? And who's going to fix my kitchen?" I added, suddenly remembering my smashed door.

He grunted, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Sorry about that. There was a little misunderstanding with the instructions to bring you in. And there's no need to worry about your kitchen, it'll be fixed today."

"Hmph," I said, not totally convinced. "I still don't know why you wanted me here in the first place."

"I hear you can see aliens."

"How-?"

"That twitter feed."

"But why me? What-"

He interrupted again. "It's not just you, you aren't the first civilian we've brought here to test. But someone thinks you're different. We'll soon find out," he added with grim determination.

I wondered who thought I was 'different.' My brain buzzed furiously as I followed the Colonel down a long corridor. He had answered a question I hadn't actually been going to ask. The question I had been on the verge of asking was, what use was my ability to see aliens now? What did my aliens, the Third Kind, have to do with the current crisis? As far as I could tell, they had nothing to do with the latest, huge, attacking ones. (I had privately started calling them the Third Kind, because they reminded me so much of the aliens in that old sci-fi movie.)

One thing I was absolutely certain about, I needed to keep my mouth shut until I found out more.