above the maelstrom of unbearable reality.
—William Faulkner
Cosmic Top Secret
Bravery and fear often walk hand in hand.
When Angelina approached and touched the alien craft I thought her the bravest person I had ever known—mind you, I tend to idealize the women I love.
But the moment after, when the hatch flew open, I saw her shrink back in terror and my heart went out to her. I’ve always had a soft spot for wounded birds.
“What did you do?” I asked her.
She was trembling so hard her teeth were chattering.
“I don’t know—I swear I just touched the hull of the craft. I caught a whiff of a disguting odour—it was like nothing I ever smelled.”
“I’m sure it was,” The army officer told her. “We just sent a robot exporer inside and there were two skeletal remains. The craft has been hermetically sealed ever since, so you were inhaling alien decomposition.”
Angrlina’s eyes grew huge and she staggered away from us and puked behind a rocky outcropping.
“Something I said?” The officer smirked.
I gave him a look that could kill and was tempted to do it.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?”I roared, “You think that was funny? Get to hell outta here.”
I don’t know if I had the right or authority to challenge him, but his cynical humour was insensitive, to say the least.
I suppose anger has its privileges, because the man actually turned pale and backed off.
“Sorry,” he muttered, as he left.
I grabbed some Kleenex and a bottle of water and took them to her.
She was still bent over, leaning against the rocky outcropping.
“Here,” I said, “wipe your lips and wash out your mouth.”
“Thanks,” she whispred weakly. “I think that moment will be forever imprinted on my mind.”
“I only wish my footprint were imprinted on that oaf’s bakside. What a boorish man.”
While we were talking a black and white military police vehicle had appeared and a high-ranking officer was being briefed on the situation.
“Oh, Oh!” I moaned, “I may have gotten a bit out of line. I tore a piece off that officer, but damn, he was insensitive.”
“Don’t worry,” she smiled, “we have first access rights—he actually answers to us.”
There was a roar from the raod behind us and we turned to see a convoy of motorized vehicles approaching. They stopped just behind the military police vehicle and a platoon of elite troops began pouring out of the trucks and taking up positions, cordoning off the crash site.
The elite officer I previously pointed out to Angelina started to walk toward us.
He was wearing an air force uniform and from his badges and insignia appeared highly decorated.
He formally addressed us, “Good day, Ms. Sommers and Mr. Newson, I’m General Lloyd Thompson, Chief of Defence.”
We shook his outstreched hand and he motioned us toward a small canteen that had been set up under a huge tarp where coffee and various baked goods were set out.
“I hear you had a spot of trouble—I apologize for that. Those men weren’t special operations but were moved in on a temporary basis. However, now the Precise Forces unit has arrived. They’re specially equipped for these operations and are known for their professionalism and discretion.”
“Pardon me, General, but are these troops The Joint Task Force?”
He nodded. “JTF2 is, as you probably already know, an extremely high readiness unit. There will be no more rough blotches, I assure you.”
“In my line of work I’ve heard of them, General, and am impressed they’re here.”
“This operation is classed by NATO as Cosmic Top Secret and we respond accordingly.”
It was the first official acknowledgement I heard from the government and I felt totally awed by the responsibility.
But we weren't in this alone.