Chapter 2: The Connection
Anthony McGee sat quietly in the small cold room. It seemed to him that everything with the exception of the one way mirror on the opposite side of the room was made of the same metallic material as the chair that he sat on and the walls around him were composed of.
He picked the little pack of cigarettes placed on the table in front of him up, and proceeded to light one as he waited. As soon as he had inhaled his first drag of his cancer stick, the door in front of him swung open, crashing into the side of the room as it did so.
“Mr. McGee, it’s so good to see you safe from back in the field. You know why you’re here I suppose,” the agent dressed in an all black suit, with a white button up shirt, and matching black thin tie.
“Yeah, I”m here to report my Mityushikha Bay nuclear testing range assignment,” he responded with a casual drag of his cigarette.
“Good, that would be exactly correct Mr. McGee, and what did you find,” he let out, grabbing the pack of cigarettes as he did so and lighting himself one as well.
“My name is Anthony McGee, and I’m reporting on the Russian nuclear testing of the Csar Bomba which they detonated at 11:32 Moscow time, and I want the record to show that that was not all that I found on my mission,” Anthony answered, brushing his long messy black hair from out in front of his eyes with his free hand as he did so.
“Is that so Mr. McGee? Then tell us, what exactly did you find as you observed the testing done in the Mityushikha Bay. Was it anything that was, out of the ordinary, the special agent asked, using his free hand to push his black thick framed spectacles further up the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, I would like the record to show that I witnessed that the Csar Bomba detonated at the given location at 11:32, and that that was not all that I bear witness to. At approximately 11:35, I want the record to show that I observed an Unidentified Flying Object enter into the airfield in close proximity to the mushroom cloud, emerging from out of the bay as it did so.
“I thought that you said that it was a flying object. How is it then that it came from the depths of the waters? That sounds more like a submerged object. How can it be both?”
“I don’t know, all that I know is that that was what I saw sir,” Anthony answered, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray provided on the table as he did so; flashing his many tattoos on his arms to the agent as he did so.
“Can you please describe the UFO to the best of you abilities Mr. McGee?”
“Yeah sure thing,” he said with a quick glance over to the mirror of the interrogation room. “The spacecraft rose from out of the bay, and it seemed to be made of a foreign black metallic substance. It arched all away around and was parabolic in shape with two parabolic arches forming into a tail at the back; sort of the same shape that you’d expect from a crescent moon. The aircraft just kind of hovered there for a bit, after which it shot off into the direction of the heavens and was gone as quick as it had come.
“I see. So are you telling me that to the best of your knowledge that the spacecraft wasn’t of Russian make,” the agent asked, pulling a comb from out of his jacket and combing over his perfectly parted jet black hair as he did so.
“No sir, I do not believe that the UFO in question was of Russian design. For that matter I don’t think it was of earthly design. After the words had parted his lips, the agent took his turn at looking at the mirror on the other side of the room.
“That all sounds very interesting indeed Mr. McGee. With that fact being kept into consideration would you speculate that there is any type of correlation or connection between the event of the Csar Bomba, and the UFO in question?”
“Yes, based on the information available and the behavior of the aircraft I would guess that the two events are interrelated,” Anthony answered nervously, paying close attention to the way the agent kept looking over to the mirror.
“Now answer me this. If there is in fact a correlation between the two events, do you think that the Russians are aware of the mysterious UFO that you speak of, or do you think that we are the only ones that have this intel?”
“I think that given the circumstances that the Russians are in fact aware of the described phenomena. It would have been very difficult to miss, unless they were that engrossed by the nuclear weapon alone.”
“Thank you Mr. McGee, you’ve been extremely helpful. Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to leave you here for the time being while we discuss the fact in the other room. I’ll have you know that it will be recorded that you were more than cooperative. With that, the agent adjusted his tie and made his leave from the small cold metallic room.
Anthony sat alone once again in the room, with more questions than he had been recently asked. Did this mean that there was in fact intelligent life out there in the universe, and if so what did they want on planet earth? Was the government trying to hold such information from the public, and if so why? He wondered how this would impact his job, and what his next assignment would be, and whether or not it would be related to this issue.
Suddenly, the door in front of him swung forward once again, and two men wearing white lab coats walked into the room, making Anthony all the more uncomfortable table with the given situation. He highly considered finding other work as they made their way across the room and sat themselves in the chairs on the opposite side of the little metallic table in front of him.
“Mr. McGee, Agent West and staff thank you for your cooperation, and now we have just a few more questions for you before we finish with our interrogation,” the man to his right said, with Anthony’s anxiety peaking as this was not typically part of standard procedure.
“Ask away,” Anthony shot back, trying more than possible to be as compliant during his interrogation.
“The record notes that you observed a type of UFO flying around on your mission. Can you tell us how long you’ve been having this type of visual hallucination,” the man to Anthony’s left asked with a stern yet sympathetic look etched across his face.
“Visual hallucinations? I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. I’m telling you that that is exactly what I saw,” Anthony roared in response in sheer disbelief.
“Note that the patient is in denial in regard to his delusions, and became irritable and agitated during our questioning.”
“Patient, hold on a second, what’s going on here. I’m telling you everything I know exactly as I saw it.”
“Let the record show that patient Anthony McGee shows tale-tell signs of Schizophrenia, and is recommended for treatment of said diagnosis at the asylum just outside of the base.”
“Schizophrenia, treatment, asylum, what are you guys going on about!” Adam stood up and slammed his fists down on the desk in front of his. “I have certain unalienable rights, and this goes against every one of them. I want my lawyer. I can’t believe this shit.”
Before the words had left his mouth, two other men in lab coats had entered the room, and made their way over to where Anthony was sitting. The One closest to him pulled out a syringe from out of his coat pocket and gave him a shot in his buttocks. Anthony almost instantaneously became drowsy and slumped back down in the chair in which he had been sitting.
The four men pulled Anthony from off of the chair and started dragging him out in the direction of the doorway. In his half sedated state, Anthony tried his hardest to pay close attention to his surroundings in order to make out where he was. There was a sign in the hallway to their immediate left that read Area 51, and military personal made their way in either direction as the men in coats carried Anthony away.
Anthony felt a surge of anger shoot through his being as they passed a hanger in which there was a spacecraft of similar design as to that in which he just described within the hanger bay.
Still the men in white carried Anthony throughout the military barracks until they rounded a corner, and lead him outside to where an ambulance was waiting for them. Anthony was loaded up into the vehicle and placed in restraints once they were inside.
“None of this ever happened,” Anthony heard an agent tell one of the men in white coats from outside the vehicle once he had been strapped down.
“Of course. We’ll wipe all records, and take him to the asylum in Nevada City,” one of the doctors replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You can’t do this to me. Do you hear me,” issued Anthony as shook in place on the gurney holding him up, but to no avail. The doctors closed the doors to the patty wagon behind them and the ambulance took off into the night with the doctors giving Anthony another shot for the long journey ahead of them.
“I feel bad for the poor guy. It’s not like he asked for any of this,” Anthony heard one of them say as he began to fade out of consciousness.
“Yeah, I wonder how headstrong this guy is because this all is really going to break him and seriously fuck his shit up.”
Tears began to form at the corners of Anthony’s eyes. “You can’t do this to me, you just can’t do this to me. You have no right,” he kept saying repetitively as the ambulance carried him away into the cold crisp night.
Chapter 3: The Visitors
It was at a time when the world was at the brink of war, nuclear warfare at that, when the alien species made their appearance. As if the prospect of nuclear annihilation was not enough, we also had a foreign enemy to deal with at the same time.
In December of 2020 we learned that we were not alone in the multiverse, or at least that’s what we thought at first, but that is another story involving tachyons from residual nuclear energy and time travel.
When the first wave came, there was no connection between where they arrived; a matter that the most advanced physicists had tried to calculate. They just ostensibly popped up at the most inconvenient time at the most random of locations. It was not as if they showed up at all of the capitals of the world, or somewhere based on weather patterns, or anything at all; it really did seem to be random selection as to where they revealed themselves. What was known was that their black parabolic spacecrafts hovered to and fro in place, as if they were fly on the wall observers awaiting some event; perhaps the moment in our history where we absolutely destroyed ourselves.
Professor Emeritus of the Physics department at George Washington University Stephanie McGee was giving a lesson on quantum mechanics to her first years students at the exact time that the visitors made said arrival. She was discussing particle entanglement in correlation to wave-functions when she realized that she had lost the attention of more than half of her students to whom where deeply engrossed on some video displaying from their various different smartphones.
“Would anyone care to bring to awareness as to what is distracting my students from my class,” she inquired, breaking from her train of thought.
“Its all over the news, just turn on the tv,” one of her brightest pupils answered from his seat directly in front of the professor. As soon as the words had left his lips, Stephanie strolled over to the front of the classroom and turned on the television in front of the room.
The television blipped to life, and from its screen came the picture of one of the UFO”s hovering over Moscow with a blue banner at the bottom of the screen that read breaking news.
“This just in, reports of what appears to be alien aircrafts are coming in from all over the globe. We have live coverage of one such encounter here in Moscow, Russia where Vladmir Putin has issued an act of war against the foreign enemy. As you can see, his troops are mobilizing there in response to the threat,” the curly redhead reported addressed right before Professor McGee turned off the television screen.
“Okay class. Let me just say that there is nothing to worry about at this time. This incident is taking place miles away, so,” but she never got to make her point as to why they shouldn’t worry for something overhead caused the entire room to turn dark, to which her students hopped out from out fo their desks and made their way over to the window on the far side of the room from whence the source of the shade had come.
From outside of the lecture hall the undergrads of room B-12 could just make out the outline of a dark black figure suspended in air over the District of Columbia. Stephanie McGee couldn’t believe her electric blue eyes. While she was the leading expert in the field of physics, she had been studying the possibility of alien life as a sort of side hobby since her childhood when her father was taken away from her for having supposedly spotted a UFO of similar make, but nothing in all of her adult life could have prepared her from what she was witnessing from outside of her classroom window.
“Class is dismissed. I want you all to go back home to your families right now,” Stephanie instructed the class. With a loud clatter, her students darted to the exit without so much as another word.
Once her students had made their way out of her class, Stephanie made her way over to the podium and gathered her belongings, after which she proceeded to make a bee line march over to her office where, much to her surprise, she found was not empty by any means. When she opened her door she came face to face with three military personal, all standing in front of her desk awaiting her arrival.
“How can I help you gentleman,” Stephanie asked at the landing of her doorway, forcing a smile as she did so.
“Stephanie McGee, we understand the nature of the independent studies you’ve been conducting for some time now. We’re going to need you to come with us,” the soldier closest to her responded; a big burly blonde man with blue eyes and to whom wore the rank of a Sergeant Major.
“But, I only entertain myself with such theories in my spare time as a sort of hobby. I don’t possibly see as to how I can be of any service to you at this time,” Stephanie rebutted.
“That may be the case, and even granted, but nonetheless we feel your skill-sets are most suited to dealing with this type of phenomena. Not only are we dealing with an alien species to which you have studied for a decade, but their aircrafts seem to omit a type of blueish nuclear pulse which we feel is also in your area of expertise. So, as I said before, we’re going to need you to come with us.”
“Why does it feel as if I don’t really have a choice,” Stephanie questioned, biting on her red lipstick stained lips.
“Because you don’t really have a say in the matter. You’ve been summoned by the POTUS himself so you will be coming with us.”