“Do you think it actually matters whether or not I design aircraft?”
“I meant it matters to you.”
“Oh. What about you? Are you going to jump right back in the saddle after your leave is lifted?”
“I have no idea, John. I haven’t been thinking much about it, honestly. I’m awfully wrapped up in the recent past. I simply hold onto the fact that the job will be waiting for me when I’m ready to go back, and that’s enough to keep it out of my mind.”
“Okay.”
There was a pause. John and Ray huffed and puffed.
John looked up the trail. “I certainly hope Ari’s waiting for us at the top, or we’ll never find her out here. If she got lost, her bad aim is going to be the least of her problems.”
“Too bad it’s not the least of ours.”
Some hours later, the trio was in various stages of refreshing themselves from the hike. Ari was indeed waiting for them at the summit, announcing their performance as akin to geriatrics and saying little else. John and Ray would have been happy to stay up there longer, but the fact was that the sun would set before they returned if they lingered. Despite Ari’s mechanical pace up the mountain, she idled back down the trail without enthusiasm. John guessed that her emotional stress and physical exhaustion had finally caught up with her. He sincerely hoped that a stiff belt of gin would help restore her more amicable side.
After they’d each in turn dunked their heads in the nearby stream and changed out of their sweaty clothes, John broke out the Genevir.
“Don’t you think we ought to eat something first?” Ray asked.
“It’s never too soon to start drinking,” said John.
“Roger that,” added Ari.
“Well, I don’t feel like cooking,” said Ray. “So if anybody wants anything other than bologna sandwiches, step right up.”
“Bologna sandwiches,” John and Ari said together.
Ray rolled his eyes and opened the cooler. He began to assemble the sandwiches. John retrieved his Beretta and unloaded it.
“Annie, get your Glock,” he said. “I’m going to show you how to clean a pistol.”
“Ooh, exciting,” Ari said, reaching over to her backpack and withdrawing her weapon. She unloaded it and placed it on the table.
“Do you have any idea how to take that thing apart?”
“No.”
“Allow the master to do his thing.”
Ray smiled. He always appreciated John’s sense of humor. He finished his simple task and grabbed one of his creations.
“Sandwiches are on the counter.”
As John walked Ari through the steps of cleaning, Ray allowed himself a moment to be alone. He munched on his sandwich in no particular hurry, staring at the faint lines of the dying sunset through the window. He was glad he came, but the tragedy of Thursday afternoon was inescapable. He had been doing a mighty job of keeping it from consuming him, and indeed he wondered if John and Ari thought him to be too quickly recovered. Still, he didn’t know how else to address the issue with them.
Ray never wanted this. Even if Pete had survived, the experience was powerful enough to change Ray’s mind about combat forever. When Ray first got involved in firearms after college, he longed for the day he might get to test his skills in combat. Ray got into the habit of going for long walks at night, mostly for the fresh air and time alone but also to stroke his secret desire to get into some trouble.
Due to the massive amount of time he spent doing this, he did find trouble on occasion. Nothing bad ever came of it, and the police were never needed. However, these incidents made Ray realize that carrying a firearm didn’t give him more freedom to deal with troublemakers, it gave him less. Fully aware of the seriousness of involving a firearm in a situation, Ray found that he couldn’t respond as forcefully as he wanted. When confronted by a lone antagonist, for example, Ray couldn’t stand up to him. With a pistol under his jacket, he had to turn around and all but run away. The consequences for allowing such a situation to escalate were far to dire to allow anything else. These realizations tempered Ray’s attitudes about firearms, but also galvanized his desire to do the right thing in all situations. This was responsible in part for bringing back his motivation to become a cop, which was his goal after college but had become muddled with four years of odd jobs, little money, and the end of what had been a good relationship with Kate. The fact that Kate had left him over the guns he was buying was an uncomfortable detail that Ray tried to avoid remembering. “Choose me or the guns,” she had said. Ray knew this was a flawed argument, and thought he could have talked her into a compromise, but his ego got in the way. He never came right out and said which he preferred. Kate knew by his lack of action and the gun safe which didn’t disappear.
John, his roommate at the time, was sympathetic. Having no girlfriend he had no reason to compromise on his firearm (he only had the Garand back then), and he was only helpful to a degree. Then again John was never as militant about the entire situation as Ray. Ray wondered what Kate was up to these days. He was surprised to think that it had been two years since he’d seen her.
“Hey Ray, are you going to stare out that window all night?”
John’s voice sounded distant. Ray turned around and sat at the table. He didn’t see the bologna sandwiches any more so he had to assume they’d been consumed. John and Ari were hard at work cleaning their pistols. Ray grasped the glass of gin that had apparently been poured for him. John looked at him.
“Aren’t you going to start cleaning your Remington?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’m in no hurry. It’s a very forgiving machine.”
“Am I supposed to clean the magazine?” Ari queried.
“Wipe it down,” said John, “it doesn’t need much else for now.”
“Is this supposed to take this long?”
“Sure, if you want to do a good job. You can maximize your efficiency if you’re pressed for time, though. That’s why we started with the barrel, recoil spring and recoil rod. If you’re in a hurry, you can concentrate on those first. Then, clean the slide the best you can. The frame is the last priority. If you’re interrupted during the process, hopefully you’ve done as much as you can to keep the weapon running reliably. Of course, we only put a hundred rounds through each pistol today. Ideally you could fire five times that much without cleaning them.”
“Wow. If this is the result of a hundred rounds I’d hate to see five hundred.”
“Yeah, things get messy.”
“Well, I need a smoke break.”
“You can smoke in here, you know.”
“I want some fresh air, too.”
“Okay, I’ll join you. Ray?”
“No thanks,” said Ray, holding up his glass, “I’ve got some catching up to do.”
John and Ari stood up, grabbing their jackets from the backs of their chairs. Ari retrieved a cigarette and lit it. John opened the door for her and they exited. The cold air was an instant relief to Ari, who was a bit displeased with the gun cleaning solvent. John shut the heavy front door, cloaking the pair in darkness.
“Do you want to walk up the hill?” Ari asked.
“Sure.”
The cabin was at the bottom of a small hill, the slope of which constituted the only open ground besides the road. It was too small to afford a view above the trees, but there was nowhere else to go. John followed the dancing ember of Ari’s cigarette as they walked. At the top of the hill, Ari unceremoniously flopped down and sat cross-legged. John joined her.
Ari sighed and directed her gaze upward. The stars were astonishingly clear that night, and the Milky Way cut an impressive swath across the lower portion of the sky. John knew some of the larger constellations, the rest were a mystery.
“I’m sorry I was such a bitch this afternoon,” Ari said.
“It’s all right. Ray and I know when to let you work out your anger.”
“It was so frustrating. To hear you guys talk about it
, shooting is the easiest thing in the world. I mean, Bruce Willis jumps around corners, rolls on the ground, and flies through the air and bad guys fall like dominoes.”
“Now you know how much bullshit all that Hollywood action really is.”
“I’m so disappointed.”
John loved the smell of clove cigarettes, but not so much so that he ever had the inclination to buy a pack. They fit her perfectly, being expensive, hard to find, and hazardous to your health.
“John, remember that time I came on to you?”
“How could I forget?”
“I think I owe you an apology.”
“What for?”
“Because you were right. The reasons you gave me for not getting together were absolutely correct. I don’t know why I thought that it was a good idea. We were obviously wrong for each other.”
John noticed that Ari said “were” and not “are.” He blushed at the implication and then dismissed it.
“You did put me in a difficult position. Not the least of which was that you were dating Silas at the time.”
“You and Silas were never friends, right?”
“Not really, we liked each other fine, but he could have easily stomped my ass, given enough of a reason.”
“You could have taken Silas in a fair fight.”
“I don’t think about things like that.”
Ari laughed. “You just contradicted yourself. How do you know he could have stomped on you if you hadn’t thought about fighting him?”
John rolled his eyes despite the darkness. “I meant that he could have tried. I make no predictions about who would have won. My philosophy is that if you are forced to fight, you have already lost. Stopping the attack while avoiding serious injury is a hollow victory.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I’m coming from the perspective that winning is an inherently positive thing. The idea is that fighting is an inherently negative thing, so to win a fight is a hollow victory. You have still suffered from the antagonism of another man.”
“So what, you should feel bad about winning a fight? With all due respect, John, that’s really stupid.”
“Feeling bad about harming another human being, and regretting the use of force are different things. I regret not the use of force but the harm done.”
“If you ask me, that’s splitting hairs.”
“Perhaps.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry I came on to you. It was inappropriate in the least and potentially harmful to our friendship at the most. I’m just glad you were so egalitarian about it.”
“You didn’t make it easy for me.”
“I know. I mean, I... wait, what do you mean?”
“Come on, Ari, I have eyes. It’s not like I wasn’t interested. At least in the physical aspect of things.”
“Really? I always thought that you were the Zen master of impulse control.”
“Maybe so, but... that star is really bright. I forget which one it is.”
John looked up at the starfield. Ari nudged him on the shoulder.
“Sometimes I wonder how much we’ve changed since then. I wonder how that scenario would play out now.”
“Is that Altair? Is that even Aquila?”
“John, I’m asking you a question.”
“What?”
Ari slipped her arm around John’s. John snapped out of his stargazing and looked at Ari with surprise.
“I said, what if I was to ask you now?”
John sat in stunned silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that star again.
“Ari, that star is moving.”
“Damn it, John, I’m asking you for a straight answer! This isn’t easy for me, you know.”
John stood up, allowing Ari’s arm to fall away from his. He stared up at the sky, his jaw hanging open.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell is that?”
Ari looked up. A bright blue star was moving down towards the horizon. It was the brightest thing in the sky.
“Maybe the space shuttle is passing overhead,” said Ari.
“I’ve seen that happen before, that doesn’t look like...”
John interrupted himself and grabbed Ari’s arm. Ari was about to swear at him when she looked up again. The star was getting bigger.
“What the...”
The light, which was blue, grew in intensity. Subtle shadows began to appear around them. The object seemed to grow closer. Ari grabbed John’s arm, and they stood watching, transfixed in horror. The object began to pulse. John had no idea how far away it was until the light reached the top of the trees a hundred yards out. It moved into the woods, lowering itself with maddening slowness. The blue light cast an ever-changing dance of shadows off the trees. John wanted to call out to Ray, but the words wouldn’t come. The object came to a stop somewhere in the woods. The pulsing light continued.
“What’s going on, John?” Ari whispered.
“I... I don’t know.”
John’s voice was equally hushed. He was terrified beyond rational thought, and struggled to regain control. He finally had a coherent idea.
“Let’s get back to the cabin,” he said.
This sounded like a terrible idea, since they had to walk toward the object to get back there. Slowly they began to move, a force of will that was akin to walking a tightrope. After what seemed like an hour, they arrived at the front door. John turned the doorknob slowly, and opened the door a crack.
“Ray!” he whispered hoarsely.
There was no reply.
“Ray!” he said again, this time so loud he made himself jump.
Ray came to the door. “What the hell are you two playing at out here?”
“Shh!” John and Ari said together.
“Get out here, damn it!” John whispered.
Ray came out onto the steps, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yes, your majesty?”
John pointed and Ray followed his arm.
“Is somebody coming up the... what the hell?”
Ray fell silent. The trio stared at the light for a moment. John said something that he could hardly believe.
“We’ve got to go check it out.”
“Are you insane?” said Ari.
“What else can we do? We’re all alone out here.”
“What if it’s dangerous?”
John and Ray looked at each other. They rushed into the cabin, with Ari quickly following.
“What do you have left?” asked John.
John began to reassemble his Beretta with lightning speed while Ray retrieved his Remington. Their swift motion belied their near panic.
“Five rounds of buckshot,” Ray replied. “And you?”
“I’m out of ought-six. I have sixteen rounds of nine mil.”
“Shit.”
Ari stood in the corner, aghast. “You blew off all your ammo? We’re screwed!”
John loaded his Beretta. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with. If you’re coming, get your Glock back together.”
“I’m sure as hell not staying here.”
Ari fumbled with her piecemeal pistol. Ray stepped in and put it together for her.
“This is pretty much insane,” she said, loading it.
“Are you going to top off the mag?” John said.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Okay, single file, even spacing. Ray, you go first. Ari, you watch our six.”
Ari shook her head. “Can’t we just get in the Expedition and get the hell out of here?”
“The road goes past that point,” Ray began, “if it’s harmful we should deal with it on foot first. Otherwise we may not make it by vehicle.”
This made absolutely zero sense to Ari, but John and Ray had obviously made up their minds.
“Let’s go,’ said John.
Carefully, the three made their way through the door. Ari pointed her pistol at the ground like John was doing. Ray led the way.
They soon en
tered the tree line. They couldn’t yet see the object, only the pale blue light it was emanating. The unknown pattern of pulses made everything seem distant and uncertain. Ray held up his fist. John stopped, and Ari almost bumped into him. Ray gestured to his right, and John moved that way. Ari did the same. As the trio drew abreast of each other, they were all able to see the object.
Before them was a sphere. It was about the size of a basketball, and was suspended about five feet off the ground. It was incandescent with blue light, making it difficult to see its actual dimensions. It was stunningly beautiful and thoroughly eerie.
John took a step closer. The orb did not give off any heat, nor did it make a sound. In fact, the night was completely silent save for the breathing of the three humans. The pattern of light resembled the effect of an underwater electric lamp. John moved closer.
“Wait,” whispered Ari.
John looked mesmerized. As he continued to draw near, he held up his hand to shield his face from the light. Almost as soon as he did this, there was a change in the orb. The light began to fade and the surface became darker. John stepped back. The orb remained almost completely dark. The surface looked metallic. John took a step forward, and a shape appeared on the surface. It was an outline of a human hand.
John, Ray and Ari stared at the orb. Nothing else happened.
“What should we do?” Ari said.
“I think I’m supposed to touch it,” John said, holding his left hand up as if to do so.
“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” said Ray.
“What else can we do?”
“Fine, go ahead. It’s your ass.”
John crept forward until he was close enough to touch the orb. He flipped on the safety on his Beretta and tucked it into his belt. Drawing a deep breath, he reached forward and placed his palm against the orb.
It was cold. No, it was warm. It was both. John had no idea what he was actually feeling. It reminded him of the feel of mentholated rub. The surface was as smooth as glass. There was a slight vibration coming off of it. After a few seconds, nothing changed.
“Nothing’s happening,” John announced.
As he said this, two more shapes appeared on the opposite sides of the sphere. John turned to look. There were two more handprints.
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