Alien Days Anthology

by P P Corcoran

  Wilberforce led him to the last hangar in the cluster, which housed just one airplane. Placed dead center inside, a near-windowless, olive-toned jet with an oblong fuselage faced out into the sunlight. Its sleek, wing-embedded engines hummed, ready to move.

  Several stone-faced MPs ushered them to a mobile staircase at the front of the aircraft. Jonah searched their uniforms for any patch or insignia. They didn’t look like Maltese forces, although he didn’t know what Maltese forces looked like. To Jonah, it was odd enough to even have government work take him international, much less this international.

  On his first step into the aircraft, Dr. Edwin stopped short. It looked like some kind of sonar jet, filled with computers almost as old as him. Every metal surfaced was scratched and tattered. The lights above had gone yellow with decades of age, and a few had died out.

  “Dr. Edwin,” Wilberforce called to him again. “Our debrief is in the back.”

  “Right.” Jonah meandered along. “So, um, how old is this airplane?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  “Figures.” Jonah sighed. “You’re not concerned about this?” he glanced a few active monitors. They beamed the neon green lettering that came with the earliest of computer designs.

  “If this plane weren’t safe to fly, it wouldn’t have made the flight to this airport.” Wilberforce reached a small seating area in the tail and greeted a lively voice. He sat down in the nearest seat available, revealing Jonah to the wide, bright grin in the aisle.

  “And you must be Dr. Jonah Edwin, no?” a short man in simplistic military fatigues approached Jonah, an unmistakable Australian accent cascading from his lips. A warm grin widened across his tanned face. His long, blonde curls were undone and untouched, far from any military leader Jonah had ever seen.

  “Y-yes, that’s me.” Jonah nodded, giving another nervous glance around the plane. “Can tell me how old this plane is?”

  The man nodded. “Why, yes, I can.” He extended a hand. “Former Wing Commander Rupert Roundy, pleasure to meet ya.”

  Jonah removed his hat shook the man’s hand. “Former Wing Commander?”

  Rupert led him to a pair of seats at the very back, facing each other. “Yes, yes.” He sat down and gestured to the empty seat. “I understand you have lots of questions.”

  “Plenty,” Wilberforce commented.

  “Well, I’m excited to hear them. Our flight isn’t long, though, so spit ‘em out while you can.”

  “Okay.” Jonah sat down across from Roundy, beside one of the few tiny windows. “So, what’s this plane’s story? If you don’t mind starting there.”

  “Ah, yes, they commissioned her back in the seventies and she served well for maritime reconnaissance until a few years ago, when my firm scooped her up.” Roundy knocked against the wall. “She’s seen a lot, but she’s a trooper.”

  “She’s a trooper that’s pushing fifty.” Jonah stirred in his seat.

  “Don’t sweat the design, my friend. This jet design has seen, and since subverted its share of failures, leaving only the timeless innovations.”

  “Failures?” Jonah felt sweat form on his forehead as the plane lurched forward.

  “Don’t scare the doctor, Roundy,” Wilberforce said. “And you said it yourself, this flight is short. Stick to specifics.”

  Roundy snickered. “Come now, Arthur, I’m only answering the man’s questions. You know, being a gracious host.” He eyed Jonah with a straight, unblinking stare. “Yes, failures.”

  Jonah watched the lines on the tarmac drift by as the jet eased its way to the runway. “Care to share the story? Before we take off would be great. I need decide if I want to jump out beforehand.”

  “You wouldn’t make it to the door,” Wilberforce said, not peering up from his version of an in-flight magazine, a computer manual that looked as old as the plane.

  Roundy’s intense gaze drew Jonah’s attention back in, and he began his story, “When they first manufactured these old birds, they were commercial liners. But, not just any commercial liner. These were the first anyone made.” He touched a finger to his ear. “Relatively quiet jet engines, and the first passenger planes to have pressurized cabins. Hypoxia? Never heard of it.” Roundy smirked.

  “Uh-huh.” Jonah’s eyes turned out the window again, watching the plane slow to a stop at the end of the runway. His gut sunk as the jets roared.

  “Now, this was in the fifties,” Roundy explained. “To folks back then, these were game-changers. Alas, they didn’t yet understand the science behind what they were doing.” He clicked his tongue. “How could they, right? Perils of being the first to do anything. The Marie Curie effect, we may say.

  “They never fully grasped the effects pressurizing and depressurizing a plane of that era would have. And, not long after they hit the skies...” he made an explosive gesture with his hands, followed by a toothy smile as the heave of departure hit. Roundy let the moment sit while the plane bolted down the runway and lifted. “They called it the Comet. And, sure enough, they went through the sky in flames.”

  Jonah couldn’t hide the terror on his face. Although, it probably helped that he glued himself to the window, watching for any sign they may careen into the Mediterranean. This guy needed to debrief him on his government contract, but all he did was scare Jonah shitless. “So, uh, why are we flying on a Comet, then?”

  “Oh, this isn’t a Comet,” Roundy said. “This is a Nimrod.”

  “A what?” Jonah stifled a snicker. “A Nimrod?”

  “Yes?” Roundy showed a bemused look before craning around to Wilberforce. “Where d’you find this gent?”

  Wilberforce glanced up from his light reading. “The States, where nimrod means dumbass.”

  Roundy shrugged and turned back around. “Well, I can see the humor now.”

  “Let me see if I got this,” Jonah said. “The ‘airplane of the future’ burns into oblivion and kills a bunch of people. Then, they give the rest to the military to soup up and name after a moron. Now, we’re flying in one of those souped up morons, going somewhere you have yet to tell me anything about. Is that right?”

  “I mean, that’s a wee bit of a simplification, but yeah.” Roundy nodded. “And we did far more than ‘soup up’ these jets. They’re damned near unrecognizable now, much safer. And, if that ‘airplane of the future’ had never burst into bits, it would’ve been another somewhere else. Sometimes tragedy is needed to make a little progress.”

  Jonah sighed. “Is that your way of telling me I’m flying to my death for the sake of progress?”

  “Heavens, no.” Roundy chortled. “Don’t be so gloomy, you serve an important purpose here. Though, I’m afraid there have been no authorized briefs regarding this project. I can say that what we’re taking you to is of the utmost secrecy.”

  “Come on, the feds back home already gave me the ‘if you talk, we’ll make you disappear’ lecture,” Jonah tried his best to speed things along. His curiosity beat at him harder the further the plane took them out to sea. “I already know I shouldn’t be talking, but I have yet to hear anything about what I shouldn’t be talking about. Feel free to skip to that part.” The plane lurched under turbulence and Jonah nearly leapt out of his skin.

  Roundy leaned in, an ear-to-ear grin on his face. “Aliens.”

  For a moment, Jonah just observed the strange Australian’s expression. Humorous, a little silly, but not without seriousness. Jonah scoffed. “Okay, now I am upset I didn’t leap out before takeoff.”

  “Come now, Dr. Edwin. If anyone would ever tell the truth about alien life, would it not be some international government officials and contractors? We are the people most invested in keeping crazy sounding shit like that behind a long, heavy curtain. Welcome to the other side of the curtain, mate.”

  Jonah shook his head. “For me to believe that, I’d have to believe I would serve a purpose in it. I’m a psychologist, Mr. Roundy.”

  “You’re a psychoanalyst
,” Roundy corrected. “Beyond that, you’re a specialist in abnormal psychology, neuro-divergent psychology, psychology outside all perceived normality. What awaits you at the end of this plane ride is the pure opposite of normality. But you have a purpose, I promise.”

  The plane lurched again, and a voice came over a raspy, crackling speaker, “We’re beginning final descent, belts fastened please.”

  Wilberforce tossed his computer manual aside. “I said you should have started the debrief sooner, Roundy.”

  Roundy rolled his eyes. “Descent has only just begun, I’ve got some minutes to clear it up. I’ve done a lot more with a lot less, I assure you.”

  Back to staring out the window, Jonah searched the sapphire seas for any sign of where they were landing. Nothing but open water, although his view was far from expansive.

  “Penny for your thoughts, doctor?” Roundy inquired.

  “Aliens.” Jonah shot a glance to Roundy. He had a point before. Everyone he’d met seemed like exactly the kinds of people who would have the job of keeping aliens secret, keeping everything behind the curtain. But, why did he need to be behind it too? “How long have you all known?”

  “Not long. An unknown vessel landed in the waters north of Norway five months ago. Ever since then, it’s just been a whirlwind of information, trial and error, discovery, problems, the whole lot. I’ve been on this for three months; things are moving quick. But there remains a lot of aspects lagging behind, issues that require specialists like you.”

  “I hope you know I’m not a translator,” Jonah replied.

  “We’re beyond the need for translators, my friend.”

  “You found a way to communicate with alien life already?”

  Roundy shook his head. “They did.”

  Jonah wasn’t sure why that answer bothered him so much, but it did. He wanted to ask one of the million more questions swirling in his mind, but couldn’t find the words. Roundy appeared to notice his unease, smile fading and bright eyes turning cold and analytical.

  “Don’t sweat your purpose here, mate,” Roundy said. “You are pivotal, and you ‘re no interpreter or linguist. We just need you to do what you do.”

  “You need me to do what I do?” Jonah took the first moment in ages to think critically about what he did. The titles were obvious, but they only led so far. He excelled in getting the non-verbal to verbalize, the liars to speak truth, and the secretive to show all. But bringing aliens into the mix threw off everything. How could he even take the concept seriously? “I’m...I’m lost.”

  “Understatement of the year,” Wilberforce chimed in.

  “They can speak,” Roundy said. “But, they’re not. We’re not sure why, but they seem rather...perturbed.”

  Jonah couldn’t help but chuckle. “Wouldn’t you be? I mean, this could be the equivalent of rebellious teenagers stealing their dad’s UFO and crashing it into a tree. Except, the tree is this planet, and the tree has now taken them hostage. Sounds perturbing to me.”

  A wide grin returned to Roundy’s face. “See? You’ll do just fine.” He peered out the window. “And you’ve found your voice none too soon.”

  Even though from the window it seemed like the plane was setting down straight into the sea, the familiar jolt of dry land came through. Tires squeaked across runway, bringing momentary ease to Jonah’s uncertain soul. He craned his neck to see what they’d landed on. From any window, they’d stopped in the middle of the water.

  “Off we go then.” Roundy hopped from his seat. Wilberforce was at his heels, albeit with less enthusiasm.

  “You can’t sit back there forever, Dr. Edwin,” Wilberforce called back.

  With a strange mix of hesitance and eager curiosity inside him, Jonah pulled himself up and made his way down to the door. As soon as it opened, and fresh daylight came in, a new pit opened in his stomach. There was a strange, new world waiting for him, and supposedly it had aliens in it.

  In the end, curiosity about where they’d landed drove him through his nerves and to the edge of the plane door. The view on the outside nearly made him jump back, as he’d walked into a surreal dream. Something was there, but not anything he’d seen before. Roundy and Wilberforce stood at the bottom of the mobile steps, tapping their shoes against a runway made of translucent asphalt.

  Descending the steps, the peculiar surface showed its true self. Rather than translucence, the substance appeared to mimic the color of the surrounding waters, even revealing light lines flowing across in kind with the waves. Jonah stepped down onto the watery runway, only to land on a surface as hard as steel. And yet, the false waves kept flowing beneath his feet.

  Further down the camouflaged runway stood large, blocky buildings, all made of the same ocean-mimicking material. This whole complex, whatever it was, blended in perfectly with the water until they were right there in front of it.

  “Can we go?” Wilberforce asked. Roundy gave a shrug and gestured for Jonah to follow.

  The two led the way towards the master complex. Before they reached the first building off the runway, two doors swung open from the blue illusion, and lines of stomping military uniforms spilled out.

  After first noticing their large guns, Jonah eyed the bright flag patches on all their uniforms. All were red, white, and blue, but they weren’t all the same. He took a moment to piece it together, and when he did, he wasn’t sure he believed it. “Are these, French and Russian soldiers?” he studied them as they stood like statues beside the door. The strangest welcoming party he’d ever seen.

  “Indeed.” Roundy nodded. “Did you think this wasn’t an international affair?” he gestured to everything around them. “Everyone who is everyone has their hand in this pie. Who do you think built this place?”

  Jonah furrowed his brow. “Aliens?”

  Roundy pointed to a soldier with a Russian flag patch. The solider didn’t so much as glance at them.

  “Great, I guess.” Jonah sighed. This new world threw a lot at him and gave him no time to process.

  True to that form, a long, white lab coat appeared at the doorway. A tall, slim, dark-skinned man with sweat on his brow and a tired expression greeted them with a weak smile. “I’m happy to see you all made it,” the man spoke with a slow accent Jonah couldn’t pinpoint. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a flag patch to go off. “Dr. Jonah Edwin, we’re happy that you are here.” He extended a hand. “I am Dr. Femi Nagobi, the director.”

  After a puzzled moment, Jonah shook his hand and tried to return the smile. “Hi. What is happening?”

  Dr. Nagobi shot a look to Roundy. “I told you to debrief him on the flight, Rupert.”

  “He only got halfway,” Wilberforce said.

  “I gave him the gist.” Roundy shrugged.

  “Follow me then, all of you.” Dr. Nagobi moved into the watery building. Jonah wanted to hesitate, but he had no time before Roundy and Wilberforce nudged him on. The lines of soldiers followed them in and maintained post by the doors as they shut.

  Despite how unreal the whole complex appeared on the outside, everything inside was normal. White tile floors, whitewashed walls, and white paneled ceilings. It was like walking through a hospital, a militarily camouflaged hospital in the middle of the sea, that housed aliens.

  “How long did this place take to build?” Jonah asked, recalling the short timeline Roundy explained.

  “Much of it came pre-built,” Nagobi explained, only peering back for a moment. “It is a mobile base, can move in pieces almost anywhere.”

  “God bless those Russians.” Jonah laughed.

  “I don’t know if they ever expected to use it for this purpose. But it serves us well here.”

  “So...you guys house aliens here? Like, Area 51?”

  Nagobi spun on his heels, facing Jonah in an instant. “I’m not certain I understand the reference, but we house the extraterrestrial life that made itself known to us several months ago. From here, we study them. And they, we believe, study us. You are he
re, Dr. Edwin, to make that process more efficient, for both parties.”

  “Efficient?” Jonah eyed Roundy, who hadn’t explained nearly enough. “Why don’t you take me through my role here, baseline, because I’m a little confused.”

  “Yes, efficient.” Nagobi sighed. “They found a way to communicate with us, but they’re not communicating. We need someone to speak with them, to get through to them, bridge whatever divide we’re missing. That’s your role here, Dr. Edwin.”

  Jonah nodded. That was a lot easier than gleaning anything out of Roundy, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. He understood where his niche was but doubted he could fill it. Communicational divides with humans were one thing, but he had yet to learn anything about this interplanetary species other than they could talk to him if they wanted. “Okay.” He put on a brave face. “I can work with that.”

  “Good.” Nagobi spun back and continued, everyone close behind. “We will begin introductions now.” He made a sharp turn down a stairwell. “Please know, they can’t hurt you. A pane of Plexiglas separates our environment from theirs.”

  “Are they violent?” Jonah asked.

  “No, no. The separation is for their safety more than yours. Their needs aren’t anything like ours, so they need a controlled environment, like the one on their vessel.”

  “They sure look intimidating though.” Roundy gave Jonah a hearty pat on the back. “Don’t let ‘em scare you though, mate.”

  With another sharp turn, Nagobi rounded a corner at the bottom of the steps, down a dimmer hall. Jonah glanced around, wondering how far below sea-level they’d descended. After another corner, they found a set of doors guarded by two more soldiers, these with German flags.

  In unison, both guards reached out and grabbed a door handle, pulling them open with seamless symmetry. They all piled into a tight room with a wide window on one end, and a slim door beside it. Jonah couldn’t make much out through the dark beyond the glass, but his gaze stayed fixed. He was just feet away from alien life and still feeling entirely out of his element.