A Drop in the Ocean

by James Cooke

  Eghert watched the entire twenty-second clip, mouth wide open before asking, ‘What the fuck is that?’

  The object, whatever it was, was heading directly towards the satellite and in doing so, grew larger and larger until it filled the screen. Suddenly the picture became scrambled before finally going dead. Before he could say another word, Harrison piped up, ‘Sir, we have analysed the recording and can confirm that it is genuine. Furthermore, we have no indications that it was any of their birds, I mean Russian or Chinese, Sir.’

  Eghert frowned, shaking his head slightly.

  ‘Play that again, but slow it down this time, for Christ's sake.’

  Eghert moved closer to the screen.

  ‘There, Sir! Patterns or geometric shapes on the surface and a definite structure to it.’ Harrison noted adding ‘It doesn’t seem natural, I mean a meteorite or something similar, sir.’

  ‘Hexagon’s,’ William’s added.

  Eghert glared at Harrison and said, ‘I’m not fucking blind Harrison. So, what you’re telling me is that this thing, whatever it is, isn’t Chinese or Russian or anybody else’s come to that?’

  ‘Yes, Sir, it certainly looks like it. We’ve quickly checked with the European’s as well, nobody can account for it.’ Harrison said.

  ‘You do realise what you’re suggesting, Harrison?’

  ‘Well, err, yes. I guess it only leaves one explanation.’

  ‘A fucking UFO?’

  ‘Err, yes, sir.’ Harrison felt like he was apologising for the fact. What’s up with this guy, it is what it is, for fuck’s sake?

  Eghert screwed his eyes up in frustration and raised both hands.

  ‘Okay, listen up. Get me Director Westlake at Fort Meade on my line immediately.’ Eghert ordered as he stormed back to his office.

  *

  Director John Westlake, based at NORAD, Fort Meade, was talking on his hands-free telephone when his secretary put a priority code-one call through to his desk.

  ‘Excuse me, Sir, it’s Frank Eghert from the Pentagon. He's asking to speak to you immediately.’ Westlake’s secretary said.

  ‘Ok, Mary put him through, this had better be important.’ Westlake responded abruptly.

  Westlake ended his call. ‘General, I’m sorry but I’ve got a code-one call coming through, I’ll get back to you.’ He hung up the speakerphone just as the call was put through to a specially dedicated telephone, reserved for the highest priority code-one calls which required additional security measures. He answered the phone. ‘Westlake.’

  ‘Sir, Lieutenant Eghert here. I'll get straight to the point if I may. We have lost AVT-1X, and, well not to put too fine a point on it, it looks like it collided with a UFO Sir.’

  There was a long pause, and the line went very quiet. Eghert wondered if he should repeat himself, but he knew from experience that Westlake wasn't a man to piss off unnecessarily. Finally, Westlake replied. ‘Did this happen over the North Pole at approximately 15:00 hours?’ It wasn’t exactly the response that Eghert was expecting, as he regarded the telephone at arm's length with a puzzled expression. He gently placed the phone to his ear, hoping to save his eardrums.

  ‘Well yes Sir, in fact it did how but how ...’ and before he could say anymore Westlake interjected, ‘Never mind that Eghert, I've just been speaking to General Roberts over at Thule Air Base, and he has already confirmed a UFO entered our atmosphere at 15:35 earlier today and that it was tracked to a site in Northern Canada. But this is this thing Eghert, and probably what you’re not aware of, is that this thing changed course at least twice before they lost it. So, we know that it wasn't a meteorite.’

  There was another brief pause. ‘Listen very carefully Eghert, we're sending in a team now to the crash site, and I want you there to oversee things, do you understand?’

  Eghert knew precisely what the only response would be if he wanted to keep his job.

  ‘Yes Sir, I understand. I'm already on my way.’ he replied, before putting the phone down.

  Chapter 5

  Brian was making good progress and on schedule to reach Lupin airport in roughly five to six hours. He’d done this particular route about thirty times and felt familiar with it. It was mostly flat terrain except for a few random hills, nothing too tricky. The landscape lay under a thick blanket of snow for hundreds of miles. Conifer trees grew all around in a natural, uncultivated fashion. Just at that moment, he glanced out of the corner of his eye, several musk oxen running some fifty yards out to his left away from the direction he was heading in.

  Could be wolves hunting.

  As he approached the next bend, he saw someone ahead, standing in the middle of the road. He automatically hit the brakes as hard as he could. This wasn’t a good move at the best of times. He wasn’t at all surprised when the rear brakes locked both back axles, which then triggered a jack-knifing situation.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Brian said.

  But it was already too late. He couldn't correct the slide, and the trailer went past the tipping point, over the edge and down into the deep ditch, taking the tractor cab with it.

  He was thrown out of his seat and ended up slumped across the door in an awkward position. He lay there semi-conscious for several minutes, in a dreamlike state. When he regained full consciousness, it dawned on him what he had just seen, the cause of the accident. He couldn’t decide if he was just hallucinating or whether it had been a real person. The cab of the truck had come to rest at a steep angle. A plume of grey smoke rose slowly from the engine bay. Meanwhile, all around, it was deadly silent and getting even colder as the sun approached the horizon.

  He hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, not many truck drivers did. Under the circumstances, it dawned on him that he’d been more than lucky that it was only a ditch he’d crashed into and not down a mountainside, or into a lake. He systematically checked for movement in both hands and toes, in case he was oblivious to any injuries due to shock. He was relieved to feel that all of his limbs were intact and movable, no broken bones it seemed. Something stung his left eye, and when he wiped it with his hand, he recoiled at the sight of his own fresh blood. Glimpsing himself in a broken window mirror, he saw a long cut across his forehead, which oozed blood over his right eye. If that was the extent of his injuries, he could live with that, any day.

  Without any intention, his mind went into overdrive, and irrational thoughts raced through his mind. He was concerned that he might not live the crash down and that he would lose his job, something that he couldn’t afford to happen. The fact that he might quickly freeze to death, all alone and never see Megan again, came later.

  The last thought convinced him to get a grip on the situation. The first thing was to get out of the cab and look at the damage, it might not be as bad as he thought. It was a struggle to climb up and out of the passenger door, but eventually, after a lot of huffing and puffing, he did, and flopped down into the snow. The damage to the truck didn’t seem too bad at first glance even though the trailer had detached entirely and now lay on its side. He thought it fortunate that the cab was still in a position such that it might be possible to drag it back onto its wheels with a bit of luck and be winched out of the ditch by a heavy-duty recovery truck.

  Brian knew full well that he couldn’t afford to take any chances out in the open tundra. If the minus thirty Fahrenheit conditions didn’t kill him then he’d have to run the potential risk of being set upon by a bear or a pack of wolves, he’d be easy meat.

  ‘Shit, Blood.’

  He knew bears could smell it from miles away, and there he was caked in the stuff. He had to mask the smell somehow and had a light bulb moment. He climbed back into the cab and searched for a t-shirt. Everything had been thrown about during the crash. Eventually, he found one and set about ripping it into strips. He opened the cap on the main diesel fuel tank and dangled the strips of cloth into the fuel tank until they were soaked through. He then wrapped several long diesel-soaked pieces around his head, covering the cut.
He was quite pleased with himself at the idea, despite looking like a poor attempt for a turban. He hoped the tactic would mask the smell of his blood. Bear Grylls would be impressed. In any event, dermatitis was preferable to becoming wolf food.

  Brian reasoned that the only option was to walk back towards the airport and hopefully another trucker would eventually come along and save his sorry ass. The initial shock of the accident, delayed until now, was kicking in, and he couldn’t help but cry a little. Nevertheless, he was thankful that he was at still alive and relatively unscathed. Things couldn’t get any worse he imagined.

  The thought didn’t last long, a sudden movement in the trees ahead of him caught his eye. A sense of foreboding came over him.

  He stood behind a fir tree, hoping that it might help his him. At the same time, he kept his gaze on the movement further ahead. Whatever it was, it lured him closer, until eventually, he could see a figure, a woman. He was sure it was the same person that he had narrowly avoided earlier. For what seemed like minutes, Brian and the woman just stared at one another without moving. Brian’s mind was racing, wondering why anyone was out here, alone and seemingly without a vehicle. Something very odd was going on.

  For a few moments, Brian considered making a run for it but came to the conclusion that he probably wouldn’t get very far. Besides that, if the woman's physique was anything to go by, he figured that he wouldn’t get very far. The truck driver’s he knew, weren’t noted for their athletic prowess. Brian thought it odd that she didn’t appear to be affected by the freezing temperature, wearing what looked like a thin wetsuit. He gritted his teeth as if somehow it would make a difference, trying to summon up some courage, and telling himself not to be such a pussy. Shrugging his shoulders and sticking his neck out, he walked over to the woman, his heart felt like a punching bag. As he got closer, the woman remained fixed to the spot, not moving but maintaining eye contact with Brian. With no apparent change in the woman’s expression, he felt emboldened to make his final approach until he stood just four feet in front of her. By now, Brian could hear his heart pounding, and he wondered why she hadn’t moved in the slightest or even blinked. He quickly tried to think what the best icebreaker might be, cursing himself for the lack of preparation.

  ‘Hello. Are you okay, are you lost or something?’ Brian asked.

  There you go Brian, you big sissy, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?

  ‘Help me - please,’ the woman replied, her voice sounded desperate.

  Brian shivered, not because of the freezing conditions. She sounded kinda normal.

  ‘Are you okay Miss. Are you in some kind of trouble?’

  Within milliseconds the woman had processed Brian’s speech within her memory bank, and this was then converted into software machine code. She chose not to explain the entire background as to why she was standing in in front of the man before her, at least not yet, she gave the optimal response.

  ‘I wish you no harm. I am here to save you. You and everyone living on this planet. Every one of your kind and every other living thing on this planet is in great danger. I am here to save you.’ As she did, her iris’s changed colour for a split second, turning from green to purple and back. It was so quick, Brian didn’t notice, he was too busy gazing at her body.

  Brian repeated her words in his head over again, trying to grasp what she had just said. He squinted slightly in doing so. The woman's opening gambit had taken Brian entirely by surprise and left him speechless for a minute. He couldn’t process what she had said, and it crossed his mind that she might just be a manifestation of his delayed shock.

  Oh, bugger, why me? Why the hell have I stumbled into a crazy woman, out here in the middle of nowhere? Punishment for crashing no doubt.

  The woman offered her hand out towards Brian and said, ‘Please follow me. I must show you something.’

  Brian hesitated for a second but without realising, reached out to her.

  ‘Whoa just a minute lady, what’s your name?’

  She cocked her head to one side, ‘I have no name; they did not give me one.’ she replied.

  ‘Oh my god. Look, I’m not exactly sure what’s going on here, but could you at least tell me your name?’ Brian said.

  The women hesitated for a moment.

  ‘I do not have a name; my creators did not give me one; you can call me whatever you want to.’ she replied.

  No name, creators, oh fuck, what the hell is she talking about?

  Not being given a name, anything, all seemed very odd to Brian, but he was in no mood to discuss it. Running through a few names in his head as quickly as he could, he went with the first one that popped into my head.

  ‘Okay how about I call you Lucy, would that be okay?’

  ‘Yes, very well, I am Lucy. Shall we now go?’ Lucy replied.

  Gripping Brian’s hand, he immediately noticed how cold Lucy’s were, with no sign of warmth. He couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t just the freezing conditions, but to feel no heat at all seemed odd. Putting the thought aside, he allowed Lucy to lead him by the hand, through the deep snow, and up the banking to the ice road.

  As they both stepped onto the roadside, Brian thought it was roughly the spot where he had hit the brakes. Fuck, it is her after all, it’s gotta be.

  ‘Please follow me.’ Lucy asked.

  As she led the way, Brian followed a few feet behind her. She crossed the road and then headed off in the opposite direction to which Brian had been driving, through the conifer trees. After trudging through the deep snow for a few minutes, evidence of something spectacular came into view. Some of the conifers were broken and lay scattered around, just like a logging operation. The snow was heavily disturbed, and pieces of metal lay scattered around. At this point, Brian had no idea what might lay ahead, past the last few trees. As they broke through those, into a clearing, a pungent, acrid smell hit Brian’s nostrils and caused him to gag.

  Then the full impact of what Lucy had brought Brian to see, revealed itself. Brian’s jaw dropped when he saw the wreckage, smashed and still smouldering. Thinking that he might be suffering from a concussion and hallucinating, he shook his head in disbelief, rubbed his eyes, in the naive belief that it might help. It didn’t.

  ‘Fuck me, is that what I think it is?’ Brian asked.

  Brian moved a few steps closer and scanned the wreckage of whatever it was.

  It didn’t look like a plane or a helicopter, which would have been the obvious conclusion.

  Equally, there were no markings that could be recognised.

  He’d seen enough movies in his time to speculate that what lay before him; the remains of a UFO.

  Judging by the broken trees and scattered debris, it seemed likely that it had crashed in this very spot.

  Brian asked Lucy, ‘Lucy, are you from that thing?’

  ‘Yes, that is correct. Please come with me. I will show you.’

  Lucy beckoned Brian with her hand and added, ‘What is fuck me?’

  Brian shook his head.

  ‘What? Oh, nothing, just tell me what the hell that thing is.’

  Brian’s sense of self-preservation was taking a beating, on the one hand, he felt extremely apprehensive for his own safety, but on the other, fascinated at what lay in front of him.

  ‘This is the remains of the spaceship I arrived in. There is something inside I need to show you.’

  Brian wrestled with his conscience, do I trust her or run like hell?

  Oh god, please let me live to tell everybody about this.

  ‘Okay. Just take it easy, yeah.’

  Chapter 6

  September 1979

  Shortly after four thirty a.m., a call came through to the bridge on the Berge Vanga.

  Captain Gustav quickly answered.

  ‘Yes, this is the Captain speaking, we’re ready for you.’

  Picking up his binoculars, he could just about see the lights of the incoming helicopter that had just left the Marion Island base.

>   ‘Yes, I see him now. Don’t worry.’ Captain Gustav added, then hung up.

  As the lights grew brighter, Captain Gustav kept an eye on Lieutenant Trent who was standing on the port side of the bridge watching the incoming helicopter.

  ‘Captain Gustav, I assume that you have got your men well back from the cargo bay by now?’ Trent asked.

  Captain Gustav rolled his eyes.

  ‘Yes, Lieutenant Trent. Don’t worry, we’ve done everything you’ve asked for. But I will say this, whatever it is you’re bringing on board, it had better be safe and of no danger to my men or the ship. I only agree to this because my boss has sanctioned it, is that understood?’

  ‘Of course, it is Captain, relax. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about’ Trent replied.

  Outside, the weather was relatively calm, with only a gentle forty-knot gust. To the west, the sky was brightening as the sun slowly climbed over the horizon, creating a spectacular warm orange sunrise. Captain Gustav could now clearly see the helicopter making its final approach. Beneath the enormous Sikorsky helicopter, hung an object about the size of a two up two down house, covered in a protective tarpaulin. Four chains, one from each corner, were connected to a central lifting point below the Sikorsky. The pilot came steadily over the bow of the ship and hovered directly over the cargo bay. It was at that point that Captain Gustav noticed the three soldiers descending on lines from the helicopter door. He assumed they were there to oversee the cargo being loaded.

  Lieutenant Trent could sense that Captain Gustav appeared alarmed.

  ‘Captain, relax, my men are not staying. They’re just accompanying the package to make sure it is safely stowed away until you reach Guam.’