by Philip Elrod
Jim continued to grovel but to no avail. Mitch sat and watched as the woman’s face grew redder and redder. Mitch hoped that she might have a stroke, and Jim was afraid that she would.
She continued screeching, “My back hurts. I may become paralyzed. I think I need to go to the hospital. I’m going to call my son, the prominent lawyer. Oh, God, look at that I broke a nail!”
On and on it went.
Finally, Jim just picked Mitch up and walked away as quickly as possible. It would be a long time before he had the nerve to show his face there again, at least while walking Mitch.
Mitch simply looked back and smirked.
****
Tom, the old man, made the trip to the Solomon’s Island in his car, a sporty little Italian number that he usually drove with the top down, as he did today. It was, of course, bright red.
The inn, his destination, was a renovated colonial-style building. It was quite easy to find and located right on the waterway. It was quite charming and just what he needed. In fact, he would be sure to tell Jim just how much he liked the place.
After checking in, he unpacked his weekend bag and put on a colorful floral shirt, white walking shorts, and flip-flop sandals. Next on the agenda would be a little sunshine. He simply adored baking in the sun and never seemed to burn. Maybe it had something to do with being half Mylean. The King George Inn had no pool, but he knew that the hotel nearby had just added a small one that would be quite acceptable for him
He strolled down the street and went straight through the hotel lobby as if he owned it. He had looked up the hotel on the internet and already knew how to access the pool area. He quickly opened the gate and entered. The gate had a large sign that clearly stated, “Guests Only." Tom strode to a sunny spot and selected a lounge chair that afforded the most sun at that time of day. Perfect.
There were only a couple of others taking advantage of the glorious weather, and that did nothing to affect his cheery mood. He quickly removed his sandals and shirt and stretched out on the lounge chair. There would be no umbrella for him.
Tom noted that a pool attendant was at the far end of the pool folding towels. He waved for the young man to come over. Tom said, “Good day. Would you please ask a waiter to bring me a fresh fruit salad with lots of strawberries? And along with the salad, I would like a croissant and a glass of good Chardonnay.”
“Yes sir," the attendant replied. “I will place your order right away.” He turned and trotted off to the restaurant.
Ah, yes, a perfect day to enjoy the sun. He was already incredibly tan. It was a healthy tan, not that horrible, wrinkly color that people get from lying in the sun for too many years. His skin was smooth with only a few small lines and wrinkles giving him the appearance of being much younger than he was. With his silver hair, contrasting with that dark tan, he was quite the handsome fellow. Right now, he wished for one of those delightful Havana cigars that he had in his room. They had been rather difficult to obtain, but his Cuban “contact” had managed to provide him with a supply of excellent quality at a fairly reasonable cost.
A waiter delivered his order promptly and asked for his room number for the bill. Tom was certainly far too clever for that. He reached into the pocket of his bathing suit and pulled out cash to pay the young man. He sent him away with a wave of his hand indicating that he did not need any change back. That very nice tip should ensure his privacy.
The Chardonnay was quite acceptable as was the fresh fruit salad. At first glance, he knew that the croissant had been a mistake. Horrible. A mass-produced disaster. Any boulangerie in Paris, who tried to serve such a wretched excuse for a croissant, would probably get torched. Without even tasting it, he began to break the bread into pieces and toss them to the birds who hopped frantically around the edge of the pool looking for a handout. He wouldn’t have been surprised if a few of them hadn’t fallen into some a seizure immediately after eating the loathsome concoction.
Tom finished the fruit and wine and then stretched out comfortably on the lounge chair again. This afternoon would be devoted to reviewing every detail of his elegant plan. Yes, it must be perfect, and he couldn’t afford the luxury of a single mistake.
Jim Slater was crucial to success, and he must use finesse. He saw himself as an artist, a master painter, studying every brush stroke before touching the canvas. His masterpiece would be sheer perfection. Jim had been carefully selected for his leading role in this drama, and now, he would surely be a willing participant. Even that cute little dog, Mitch, would play a part. Tom smiled to himself, at last satisfied; he closed his eyes and took a nap.
He awoke, now alone at the pool, as the shadows crept across the area. He stood, looked around and then put on his shirt and sandals. After a quick stroll back to the inn, he retrieved his tablet computer, turned it on, and anxiously accessed the Night Sky Network site. He had to confirm that there were no additional reports of sightings of the alien object. The Japanese and Chinese astronomers had been carefully selected, and they would be the only humans to detect the object. Now, after their reports, NASA would surely be frantic with activity. He could only imagine the fevered commotion as they searched to identify the mysterious object.
He shut off the computer and mused to himself, “Maxx and I make a great team. No one will see the object again until I’m ready for it to be seen.”
****
NASA constantly monitored the Night Sky Network so anything unusual reported would be flagged immediately for review. The situation was most perplexing and curious. Two different types of astronomers from two far-flung locations had detected a strange object in the heavens. At first review, the sightings appeared to be credible since two different types of astronomy had been used. One seemed to verify the other.
A further review was needed before the report could be submitted to the administration. Eventually, the report would wind its way, electronically, of course, through the maze of experts and authorities and wind up in the hands of the national security advisor. Mathew Walker, always very busy, would surely just send that ticking bomb of a report to his very capable assistant for scientific matters, Dr. Jim Slater.
The stage was set for Act One.
Washington, the heart and soul of all things bureaucratic, was always so very predictable. No one would be surprised that this rather unusual assignment would eventually wind up Jim Slater’s desk. After all, he was the perfect candidate. Well educated, well qualified, and experienced.
But, best of all, he was relatively unimportant in the overall scheme of things. No one would care if he happened to be left holding the proverbial bag if this very questionable report turned out to be a colossal hoax. The thing had “hot potato” written all over it.
Tom, feeling like the master of all manipulations, only smiled to himself. This report was no hoax and, soon, the truth would rock all of Washington. He could be patient while the events unfolded, just as planned.
****
Meanwhile, back at his condo in Washington, Jim Slater awoke several minutes later than usual after his fun-filled weekend. He tossed the covers aside and hopped out of bed, still thinking about Elaine and the fact that his weekend had been such an unexpected success. As a rather cautious person, he had never trolled the bar scene in search of dates. You could meet someone nice, or, you could meet someone who might be just plain scary. Elaine had been different, and the two had hit it off after that rocky first start. Surely, with a little persuasion, he could entice Mitch into accepting Elaine into their lives, at least for a while.
Work was a letdown. Lately, he seemed to be trapped in the job. His position, at least at first, seemed so promising; even exciting. His boss had been reasonably pleasant for a while, and he had made friends with several co-workers. But, that didn’t make up for the present situation. He was totally, utterly bored and could barely stomach reading another inane report.
Even the weather was not his friend. As the day progressed, the several scattered thunderstorms mo
ved across the area bringing strong winds and rain. It would be no day to enjoy the mall. He would just have to remain stuck inside the four walls of his office.
Tuesday was a repeat of Monday. The July 4th holiday was midweek, and no one wanted to start any new project. Half the city was already out of town and wouldn’t return until the following Monday.
Jim planned to spend the holiday alone in his condo, except for Mitch. She seemed to like it that way. He would catch up on some technical journals and watch a couple of ball games. Mitch, ever on the alert for intruders, sat at the window in hopes that some poor cat might wander into her domain, so she would raise the alarm and send the creature on its way.
The phone rang insistently, interrupting Jim’s ball game at a crucial moment. Somehow it never failed. The damn thing always seemed to ring at a bad time. The caller was Elaine, and that put him into a more pleasant mood. She invited him to go with her to the fireworks show at The Mall that evening. It would be an awesome visual display with fireworks originating at the reflecting pool. The sounds would be deafening, and there would be staggering numbers of people. Jim declined, claiming a headache. It was a little white lie, but he reasoned that it would be preferable to the truth; he just wanted to be alone with Mitch. He and Mitch would watch the stunning display on TV in the comfort of the condo.
****
On Solomon’s Island, Tom continued his sunbathing at the nearby hotel. By now, the staff had figured out his trespassing, but he was so charming that they had no desire to boot him out. In fact, he became something of a pet with the employees who doted on him like a favorite uncle and kept him safe from the wandering eyes of management.
In the evenings, Tom enjoyed fine dining at local restaurants where he never failed to show courtesy and appreciation to the wait staff who served him. He certainly would be welcomed on a return visit.
He had needed this downtime to clear his head and review every tiny detail of his plan. He would need all his skills and mental acuity to ensure success. Dr. Jim Slater was now well positioned for his crucial role, and Tom was confident that his protégée would rise to the occasion like a champion and fulfill his destiny.
****
On Thursday, the day after the holiday, Jim returned to his office expecting another day of boredom. He passed the time by playing games on his cell phone and had even brought his e-reader along to start a biography of Winston Churchill. Nothing seemed to help, and he stared at his blank computer screen and thought of Elaine. He would probably ask her out again, but they had no definite plans. She was quite busy with her research and he still hadn’t worked up the courage to introduce her to Mitch.
At long last, it was Friday, and the report of the sighting of the unknown object would finally reach Jim, just as Tom had planned. As an analyst, he would review the original report in depth and then research every aspect. He would study the two astronomers and their backgrounds. Had either ever made a false claim? He would assess the equipment used and investigate the possibility of an aberration. No stone would be unturned.
****
Tom arrived back in the city on late Friday morning. Rested and refreshed, he was ready to begin. In fact, he could hardly wait. His entire life seemed to have been in preparation for his meeting with Jim later in the day. How would Jim react to the situation? Would he turn and run? Would he just dismiss Tom as some demented old man? He pushed the negative thoughts from his mind. He had groomed Jim carefully, and he was confident that success was a sure thing.
*****
For two long years, Jim had nothing but routine assignments and unimportant research. He understood that he had to work his way up through the system, but he had never anticipated that it could be so frustrating. He was beginning to feel that his background and education were being wasted. Here he was, a Rhodes scholar, working at a job that could easily be done by some low-ranking clerical type. He even began to wonder why he hadn’t chosen a career in the Navy. Surely, by now, he would have advanced to an important rank.
He desperately needed something to energize himself and to challenge his brain. Then, he got the fateful call. Mathew Walker, Ph.D., national security advisor, and Jim’s boss, called him personally with an assignment. It was already late, almost four o’clock on Friday. Walker spoke in a rather condescending voice.
“Dr. Slater,” he said in his formal way, “I have an assignment for you and I need you to get on it right away.”
He quickly continued without giving Jim an opportunity to reply. “The president has requested that I investigate the reported sighting of a strange object that seems to have entered our solar system. This thing appeared to be quite large and had some unusual characteristics. I have no idea whether this is significant or not. It could be just a malfunction in someone’s equipment or some hacker playing a joke, but, as you well know, we must check into it. I’m putting you in charge of the investigation.”
He continued, “The president wants to know if this sighting is a real object and if so, he needs to know three things: What is it? Where did it come from? Why is it here now?”
There was a brief pause and then, “You will have my full support and access to any and all resources that you may require. Obviously, your other assignments can wait.”
Not waiting for a response from Jim, he finished with, “Get on this now and report back to me as soon as possible. By the way, we don’t want anything to get into the press until we come up with some concrete answers, so be careful with whom you discuss this.”
Walker hung up without waiting to get a response.
Jim sat and looked at the telephone in stunned silence. His first thought was a rather sarcastic, “What other assignments?”
He wondered why he was given the assignment, but the answer was painfully obvious. He was the new member of the team and, therefore, expendable. If his analysis were incorrect, he would be a scapegoat. Goodbye, career.
The thing was probably a hoax perpetrated by some acne-ridden hacker in New Jersey, or it could have originated with the Russians or even the Chinese. North Korea also came to mind. There were many, out there, who would love nothing more than to embarrass the United States government.
He certainly hadn’t expected to be in such an unpleasant situation at this time on Friday afternoon. He would have to be extremely careful and investigate every possibility. Otherwise, he would surely be thrown under the bus in typical Washington-style.
Oh well, he thought philosophically. You wanted something challenging, and now, you’ve got it. He was still staring at the silent phone as if expecting some further explanation. None would come. He was on his own. He put the phone down, still somewhat in shock. He turned on his computer and accessed the report from Walker.
Jim Slater was now into an adventure that would be more than challenging and exciting. It would change his life forever. Unfortunately, he just didn’t know it yet.
After reviewing the NASA report, he accessed the Night Sky Network and compared it to the two sightings made by the Japanese and the Chinese astronomers. They did seem to confirm each other, at least initially, but there was something that seemed a bit fishy. The Chinese had reported that the unidentified object had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. It seemed to have moved away at an incredible speed. Perhaps that could explain why there had been no further observations.
For the next hour, Jim telephoned contacts at NASA, hoping they might be of help. Most of those he called were in a later time zone, so he managed to reach a few. But it seemed that all those he contacted were already in the TGIF mode. No luck. Only one person had even seen the report of the phenomenon and he hadn’t been very impressed with the guy. He wheezed and coughed his way through the conversation as if he were on a ventilator. Probably a chain smoker.
It was almost 6 PM when he finally decided to call it quits for the day. Right now, he could use a cold beer or something even stronger. He would relax and figure out how to handle this assignment. He grabbed his briefcase, t
urned off his office computer, locked up, and headed for home.
Even with the Friday early evening traffic, it didn’t take long to reach his condo. By then, he had formulated a basic plan. His first step would be to contact the Japanese amateur astronomer who had made the original sighting. He made a mental note to check the time difference between Washington and Tokyo. Might be a problem. He just hoped and prayed that the Japanese could speak enough English to communicate with him. No point in trying to reach the Chinese astronomer. That would be very problematic at best. Right now, he would focus on this Matsumoto person.
Since Marjorie, the neighbor, was still out of town, Mitch had been left to her own devices and she had many. Her awareness of time was unbelievable. She, invariably, knew when he was late, and today was no exception. He had to spend an hour after her walk around the block trying to soothe her umbrage, with only modest success. Even worse, he had no beer in his refrigerator, and he needed one. His life had suddenly jumped from a slow boat to China and onto a bullet train. Right now, he could hear his favorite tavern calling his name seductively. It would be the perfect place to mull this over.
Mitch was not pleased when he told her, “I’ll be right back, sweetie, I just have to run down to Henry’s for a quick beer.” Glancing back at her as he closed the door to leave he thought to himself, My God! That look! Probably just as well that I do not know what she’s thinking.
Upon arriving at the Henry’s, he took his usual seat at the bar. Thankfully, there were no other patrons nearby, and he could have some blessed solitude. The last thing that he wanted was some chatty person who had started drinking at the beginning of happy hour to start talking to him. He was also thankful that Elaine wasn’t working tonight. He certainly didn’t need a romantic distraction at the moment.