Pit Bulls vs Aliens (13 page)

The senators looked back and forth at each other.

“A mad scientist perhaps,” Senator Weingold said with a chuckle.

“Maybe,” Dr. McNair said, taking the steam away from the intended sarcasm. “We don’t have that information. But the information about the wall, the current, and the climate is all real. Frankly, I thought the committee would like this news.”

Senator Biddle looked at him. “You realize this means all of your former reports are wrong, don’t you?”

Dr. McNair smiled. “I do.”

“Then why would we like this news?” Senator Butler asked.

“Because,” Dr. McNair said, “it is news that you can all agree on. We don’t have to stop drilling for oil, or buying it from the Middle East, or stop doing anything you claim hurts the economy. For the first time, we have a tangible problem that can be dealt with.” Dr. McNair began putting Sally’s papers back in her briefcase. This was his signal to the committee that they were finished. Sally followed him toward the door.

“One more question, Doctors.”

Dr. McNair and Sally stopped and turned around.

Senator Malcolm continued. “Do you think this has anything to do with the alien invasion?”

Sally laughed.

“What are you talking about?” Dr. McNair asked, knowing Senator Malcolm was not the kind of person to joke. In fact, she was the only one on the committee whom he respected.

“Have you not watched the news lately?” Senator Weingold asked.

Dr. McNair glanced at Sally, then back to the panel. He walked a little closer. “No. What has happened?”

“Just rumors so far,” Senator Butler answered. “But the rumor is that aliens have landed in Central America and are setting up shop.”

Dr. McNair shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything. But as to a connection with what’s going on in the ocean, I couldn’t possibly say.”

As the two left the building and walked out into the sunlight, Thomas, who was waiting for them on a nearby park bench, jumped up and ran over. “Well?”

Sally shrugged. “It’s like talking to a brick wall. I don’t think they believed any of it.”

“Have you guys heard about the alien invasion?” Thomas couldn’t control his enthusiasm.

Dr. McNair laughed. “We just heard. What do you know?”

Before Thomas could answer, a marine in uniform walked out of the building. “Are you Dr. McNair, sir?”

“Yes, I’m Stephen McNair.”

“Will you please wait right here, sir?”

Dr. McNair nodded. The marine disappeared back inside the building. A couple of minutes later a young man wearing a jacket and tie, and quite uncomfortably it seemed, rushed out of the building.

“Dr. McNair?” He rushed up to them and bent over to catch his breath. It was the small man who had sat in on the meeting before the oversight committee.

“It’s okay, son,” Dr. McNair said. “Take your time.”

The young man finally caught his breath and stood up. He took off his rim glasses and used his tie to clean them. “I hate suits. Sorry.” He placed the glasses back on. “I’m Dr. Darren Mitchell with SETI.”

“SETI?” Thomas yelled. “Hey, how are you?” He was obviously glad to find a kindred spirit.

“Sorry,” said Dr. McNair. “He’s our alien expert, Thomas Freeman. What can I do for you?”

“Thomas Freeman?” Darren repeated.

“That’s me,” Thomas said, shaking Darren’s hand. “Perhaps you’ve read my books.”

“Yes, yes, I have,” Darren said. “All of them. The last one,
Mark My Words: They’re Coming
, is my favorite. I’m a huge fan.”

Thomas stood there in a daze while Sally and Dr. McNair laughed.

Darren released Thomas’s hand and looked at the others. “Uh, I need your help. I’m in charge of putting together a team for a situation that has unfolded, and I need experts in several fields, including climatology.”

“Is this a government project?” Dr. McNair asked.

“You could say that,” Darren answered.

Dr. McNair looked at Sally and Thomas. “Well, we’re a team. You don’t get me without these guys. Sally is a marine biologist.”

Darren smiled. “I’ll take you all. Follow me and I’ll brief you along the way.”

“Don’t tell me,” Sally said. “This is about the alien invasion, I suppose?”

Darren opened the door to the building they had just left and held it for them. He looked each one in the eyes and then answered. “Yes, it is.”

Colonel Benjamin Jamison sat on his sofa waiting for his wife, his neatly pressed jacket hanging over the back of the sofa so as not to get wrinkled. Angel, his pit bull, sat beside him. It was Sunday morning and he and his wife were heading to church. The television was on but he was paying no attention. Instead, he was staring at the family picture atop the TV, the one with him, his wife, two sons, and much younger daughter. He smelled his wife’s perfume as she walked up behind him.

“I’m ready,” Belinda said as she brushed lint from her dress. She looked up at the TV. “What are you watching on the news? Are they talking about aliens?”

The colonel laughed as he looked back to the screen. “Yes, I believe so. They’ve been doing a lot of news stories recently about aliens.”

“Is it real?”

“Come on. It never is. Probably a publicity stunt to lure tourists.”

“I have your robe,” his wife said.

The colonel shook his head. “You don’t really expect me to go through with this?”

Belinda stood firm. “Yes, I do. I’m tired of people saying you’re not friendly. You used to love to sing in the choir before—”

The colonel didn’t argue anymore. He knew she was right and knew what she was trying to say. Ever since his daughter drowned in the family swimming pool ten years ago, he had become withdrawn. He had cried harder than he knew he could that day, but not one drop since. He wasn’t sure if he could anymore. Nothing seemed to matter in life. His two sons were grown now, one a second lieutenant in the army and one a veterinarian, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken with either of them. His faith was about all he had left, and he often questioned that, wondering if he was just going through the motions.

He took the robe, and he and his wife went to the door. Angel followed and watched them leave. They got in the car and drove to church.

On the way, he turned on the radio, but after hearing more about aliens, he quickly turned it off and wondered how there could be so many gullible people in the world.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the small church just off the army base where the colonel was stationed. He dressed in his robe, his head and burly forearms the only things visible. His formidable appearance belied the fact that he wasn’t a very tall man; he was slightly under six feet. He joined the choir, ready for the first song.

The congregation of the small church swayed back and forth to the rhythmic sounds of the choir, like lilies dancing in a warm summer breeze. Colonel Jamison held his hymnal and let his baritone voice soar among the other choir members. His neatly shaved dark head glistened in the light and was almost motionless as he sang. He occasionally glanced up to see his wife, who was seated in the pews. Belinda was still a beautiful woman, her shining black hair cut short and accented now by streaks of silver. Her face was still relatively free of wrinkles, except when she smiled as she was doing now. He knew she was his strength; she always had been.

It was a humid summer day in Georgia as the morning sunlight burned through the stained-glass windows, casting distorted replicas along the far walls like artistic abstracts of holy scenes. Suddenly, both double doors in the rear of the sanctuary opened. Two men in full dress uniform entered, several medals adorning the left breasts of their jackets. They stood motionless and stared at the colonel.

The colonel looked up and noticed them. Adrenaline rushed through his body. He was in the back row of the choir, so he closed his book and quietly stepped backward off the platform and disappeared.

Belinda looked confused until she turned and saw the two soldiers. Her head dropped.

Moments later the colonel appeared from the back in just his suit. He had removed the choir robe. He strolled down the center aisle as the choir continued without him. Belinda was sitting at the end of a pew and held her hand out as he passed. The colonel gently caressed her hand as he walked on toward the soldiers, who quickly stood at attention as he neared. He nodded and followed them to the black car waiting outside.

“What is this about, gentlemen?” he asked as they drove away. He looked beside him at the driver and to the backseat at the other soldier.

“Sorry, sir,” the one in the back said, “we don’t have that information. We were only sent to retrieve you. Do you know, sir? Is it about the aliens?”

The colonel scoffed, then sat silently, looking straight ahead. The last time he was “retrieved” like this was when his CO informed him he was going to the Middle East. But there were no current wars and none brewing, at least none of which he was aware. As the car passed the entrance to the base, the colonel realized they were driving him to his home. He knew what that meant.

As the driver stopped on the curb in front of his house, Colonel Jamison got out and went inside to pack. He stuffed all his essentials into a duffel bag, put on his dress uniform, and walked back through the house, stopping in the living room to stare again at the picture on the TV. He took a deep breath and continued. “Come on, Angel,” he called out. His older pit bull quickly rushed to join him.

He opened the back door and Angel jumped inside and began licking the soldier in the backseat. Colonel Jamison took the front seat again. Once inside the car, they drove to the base and directly to the airfield. A small vehicle like a golf cart took them from there. Angel enjoyed the ride. They drove past several hangars until they reached the one they were looking for. A three-hour helicopter flight later and Colonel Jamison found himself and Angel being driven to the Pentagon.

An escort took him from the car to a guarded room. The colonel removed his cap and looked at the marine guard. “I’m here to report.”

“Yes, sir. They’re expecting you.” The guard opened the door.

The colonel handed the guard the leash to Angel. “She needs some water.” The guard looked confused, but he nodded. Colonel Jamison was more tired than curious now as he entered. He saw his old friend General Nickerson, who was also in full dress, so he walked up and saluted.

“At ease,” the general said after returning the colonel’s salute. “Come on over, Benjamin.”

The colonel noticed several other people in the room. Two were wearing black suits, and, judging by their demeanor, he guessed they were agents. Another was a smaller guy with rim glasses, then an older man, an Asian woman, and a hippie.

“Colonel Jamison, these gentlemen are with the NSA,” the general said, motioning to the agents. “And this here is Dr. Darren Mitchell with SETI.”

“SETI?” the colonel asked.

The little guy got up and walked over with his hand extended, which the colonel shook. “Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. We’re the weirdos always trying to find intelligent life from beyond this world.”

The colonel smiled. “When you find some on this planet, let me know.”

General Nickerson laughed and walked over to the large conference table and sat at one end. “Let’s all take a seat. Benjamin, I’m sorry I had to pull you out of church.”

Colonel Jamison and Darren sat on one side and the two agents, Dr. McNair, Sally, and Thomas all sat around the table. The colonel waited for them to brief him.

“Benjamin,” the general said, “what have you heard about this alien invasion?”

The colonel tried not to smile. “I’ve been hearing it on the news for about a week. I kind of figured it was a hoax.”

“It’s not.”

The general’s quick response and stern tone gave the colonel alarm.

The general looked to Darren. “Tell him what we know.”

Darren turned in his chair to face the colonel. “A few weeks ago, six large spikes of unknown material sped toward Earth and penetrated into the beaches off each coast of northern Panama, each measuring over two hundred feet high. They had writings of an unfamiliar language on them and we weren’t even sure at the time where they came from.” He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a picture, and handed it to the colonel. The pictures showed the spikes in great detail.

“And you say these objects have been delivered by aliens?” the colonel asked no one in particular.

“That’s right,” the general said.

Darren handed the colonel another picture. “And here’s where they came from.”

The colonel looked at the picture but didn’t see anything. “It’s just empty space.”

Darren nodded. “Yes, that’s what we thought. This image was captured by the Hubble. But if you look at this area here,” he said, pointing to the photo, “you’ll see an area of distortion.”

The colonel looked hard. “Okay, I see it. What is it?”

“A spaceship of some kind,” Darren said. “It was able to approach Earth, possibly taking a year or more, and still was not detected. It uses a type of ambient energy to refract light, making it invisible to the naked eye and to radar. It settled into an orbit above Central America. Once we knew where to look, we found it. We estimate it to be a perfect sphere about twelve hundred miles in diameter.”

“And they dropped these spikes?” the colonel asked.

He nodded.

“Why?”

“That’s the sixty-four-dollar question, isn’t it?” the general asked.

“We weren’t sure at first,” Darren said, “but we know now. We think they’re settlers.”

The colonel turned to look at the general as if expecting him to explain this was a joke. He did not.

The general looked at the agents. “Show him the pictures.”

“Those are classified,” one of the agents said.

“Show him!” the general said in a louder tone.

The agent reached into his case and brought out a large manila envelope, which he slid across the table to Colonel Jamison.

The colonel held the large envelope in his hands and searched the faces of all at the table. “Let me guess—little green men?”