a 50-meter radius security fence around the crash site. One of the trucks was the science lab that contained the more sophisticated equipment we needed to do a thorough study. I had that truck park in the cleared close to the impact crater. The locals probably thought the circus was in town, but there were not going to be any tickets on sale by Tolson anymore. The fence was chain-link covered with canvas so no one could see inside, and it had razor wire at the top. There was one walk-in entryway and one truck entry, both guarded by security men. I though all this was a bit much, but it was SOP (standard operating procedure) for a Code Yellow.
By mid-morning, the fence had been completed, and most of the equipment on the science-lab truck was up and running. Data was already being taken and, via satellite link, was being sent directly to Washington for collateral processing. During all of this activity, Mr. Tolson came down to the site and asked to speak to me. It took a while before I could get a moment to speak to him.
When I did, I handed him a legal paper. I explained, "That essentially says that we can do and take what we want. I'm sorry for all this [which was true], but it may prove to be a matter of national security [which I doubted at the time]. I suggest that you return to your house and remain there until further notice with your daughter. A medical team will visit you soon to give you both physicals. I need to make it clear that your cooperation is appreciated but not required."
Without saying anything, Tolson took the paper, turned, and went back to the house. I sent one of the security men to stand outside his house to both to keep an eye on Mr. Tolson and daughter and to prevent anyone from visiting them. I went to the Medteam and told them to perform physicals on Mr. Tolson, his daughter, and the two boys who worked with Tolson. I volunteered to give Jenny Tolson hers, but they did not appreciate my humor.
By mid-afternoon, the data we had collected was beginning to make me nervous. I called a meeting of the science leads to gather in the trailer at 5 PM. The trailer had a very small conference room that could seat about six people uncomfortably around a rickety table. It was secured and would allow us to have conversations without risk of anyone eavesdropping. There was a coffee machine in one corner, but it looked like a biohazard, so no one touched it. In addition to Glen and myself, the three leads for the mechanical, chemical/nuclear, and biomedical science teams were there.
I asked Stan Gurnie, the mechanical lead, "Well, what have you got so far?"
"Not much, and it's becoming less as we speak. The so-called spaceship in the crater has almost completely liquefied. The entire system seems to have been of organometallic origin. This means that, if it was a craft capable of flight, maybe even off-world flight, it must have been grown or transmuted in some way for that purpose. I cannot tell much beyond that right now. Whatever it was, it seems to have been very sophisticated."
"Steve, have you tried to arrest the disintegration?"
Steve Carson, the chemical/nuclear lead, responded, "Yes. We have tried freezing it in liquid nitrogen and liquid helium, and we have tried irradiation, but nothing seemed to work. The thing is breaking down at the molecular level. It's as if the chemical bonds are dissolving. Even if we could find a way to stop it, I think it’s already too late. In about 24 hours, the only thing that will be left in the crater is a stinking pool of green slime, heavily contaminated with heavy metals and radiation by-products. We also found similar traces of radiation all along the gouge in the earth."
I turned to Janet Nettleton, the biomedical lead. "Janet, what have you got to add to this mess?"
"The biological team has made some DNA studies of the green jelly and have managed to get some partial strands. Even though some of the strands are similar to strands listed in the database, there are no exact matches. We are not sure what this means."
"Are you saying that this is a new type of DNA?"
"Not at this point. We have more work to do, and this is only our preliminary stab at this."
"The radiation indicates that some type of reaction was taking place,” Steve stated. “This is not something that can be bought at your local drugstore."
I said, "It is relatively easy to dig a crater and trench and plant some green goo, but it is not easy to create unknown DNA strands and radioactive by-products. We may have something interesting on our hands, gang." By now the little hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. "Janet, what about the physicals on Mr. Tolson, Jenny, and the two boys?"
"There is nothing special, medically that is, about the woman and the nephews, but Mr. Tolson has to be the healthiest 71-year-old we have ever examined. He would be considered a very healthy 50-year-old. The amazing thing is that he shows no evidence of arthritis, even though he has a medical history of a severe case. I have never heard of arthritis disappearing of its own accord.
We also found what appears to be a small injury on his ankle. The injury resembles an entry wound. It'd almost healed, and, when he was asked about it, Tolson said he did not even remember hurting himself. The only reason he had found it was because it had bled a little into his sock. It's not strange for a person living on a farm to have cuts, bruises, and abrasions, but the nature of the wound seemed to be different from that of an injury obtained doing farm work."
I was not sure what to make of Janet's report. Is someone's being in perfect health evidence of an alien visitation, clean living, or divine intervention? Letting that thought simmer, I sent out orders that security guards be sent ASAP to all seven of the neighbors that had visited the site the second day. They needed to be brought here so we could gather more information.
I sent Glen back to the boarding house to pick up our things, since we now had an on-site trailer to live in. It was just as well, since I thought the good food and clean air was beginning to affect my health. While he was gone, I got into a long discussion with my supervisors back at HQ. "We want to upgrade the situation to a Code Amber."
I replied, "If you do that, I will lose control of the investigation. The press has already gotten wind of this, and pretty soon every story-starved, rag reporter and crackpot will be down here, trampling over the evidence and yelling freedom of the press and government cover-up."
"We'll give you one more day to see what you can find out, but, barring a major discovery, we’re upgrading the situation the day after tomorrow. We're sending another detachment of security men in the morning to help control the area."
I could already feel things slipping out of my control. I have always been a team player and have made it a point of pleasing my bosses, even when I might think them an idiot. I had too many years into the service to rock the boat now. I knew Frank was on the call and that he would back me up as much as he could. He knew that the man in the field had the best perspective on the situation. "I don't need men with guns making the locals more nervous. What I do need is about 20 low echelon investigators to come do some grunt work asking questions and compiling lists. I also need a helicopter to transfer around 15 people to the main medical facility in Washington for very thorough examinations. I'd like to send the Tolsons and all seven of their neighbors there instead of having the exams done here. Frank, you know how hard it is to get good data in the field."
With Frank’s prodding, they agreed to the helicopter but said they were going to send the security men anyway. I could hear the sound of approaching bureaucratic feet. I had to work fast to get as much hard, scientific evidence as I could before the big guns came in and screwed things up. I needed to know what was happening, and things were not making any sense yet. I now had only one more day to find out.
The next morning, the situation got a lot more complicated. The security guards showed up in their own helicopter, and I put them on perimeter duty. When the investigators arrived, I had them begin compiling a list of everyone that had visited the site. Their tasks would be to interview everyone in the area. Obviously, we would never get all the names, but we had to try and get as many as possible. I had a s
trong hunch that the list would come in handy.
At around noon, I saw Tolson and his neighbors being brought into the investigation site. They seemed willing to cooperate, which, considering the inconvenience, was rather nice of them. I think they enjoyed the excitement. They boarded the military helicopter for their ride to Washington. As he was boarding, Mr. Tolson told me, "It is very important that I not be subjected to any type of radiation or internal imaging."
"Why is that?"
"I am not sure why—I just have a very strong feeling."
"The doctors know what they are doing. They’ll be very careful, but I’ll phone ahead and let them know your concerns." I then helped Tolson board the helicopter. After they’d left, his statement slowly began to bother me, and I wasn’t sure why. I called the lead doctor at the med-center in D.C. and told him that any imaging of the patients be done with great care. I also told him not to do any imaging on Mr. Tolson. This proved to be extremely important.
The rest of the day was spent collecting data on anything and everything about the site and the so-called ship, but the pickings were becoming very lean. The alien craft in the crater had pretty much disintegrated into nothing of use to us, and we