Close Encounter

"All right, let's run this down one more time, Major Radcliffe."  The man from the Intel Shop was leering into his face.  Will had to fight back the impulse to crush the little prick's larynx with a swift blow from his right hand.  Just a quick jab, and the sneer would turn to an open-mouthed gasping for breath.

"It wouldn't do any good, Weird...."

"Ward!"

"Whatever!  We've been over it a dozen times.  You know everything I know." (Except one.)

"Yeah, well humor me, Will.  Run it down one more time."

Their eyes dueled, but the IS man had the rank in this situation.

"I was scrambled out of McChord at 00:58 Zulu, and vectored into the area of an unidentified bogey.  It was at angels 72 and descending.  I went AB and climbed to meet it."

"Did you get a visual?"

"Not at first.  The radar showed the bogey as right in front of me, but I could see nothing."

"Then what happened?"

"Suddenly, it was there -- like out of nowhere.  I had to jerk the stick to avoid a collision."

"Which way did you roll?"

"Left.  Then I stabilized, and looked for it again."

"Did you see it?"

"Yes.  It was a spherical, pulsating light that shifted colors constantly.  The colors seemed to speak to me."

"They did?  What did they say?"

"They didn't SAY anything, but I picked up the feelings -- peace, solitude, goodwill."

"Feelings?  That's all?"

"I believe it was their form of communication.  A mental thing."

"So you believe this thing was extraterrestrial?"

"What else could it be?"

"You tell me.  You were the one that was there."

"I know.  So, why don't you believe me?"

"Give me a break, Major!  What did you have to eat or drink before you flew this mission?"

"When I'm on standby, I eat only the rations we keep in the Alert Barn.  I drink only water."

"Are you on any medications?"

"For the fifth time, no."

"So you saw this ... what was it again, that you saw?"

"Get outta my face, Ward!  You've done this a dozen times now.  It was a light -- a friggin light.  It will always be a light, no matter how many times you ask.  I don't think you're listening."

Ward raised his hands in surrender, "Okay, flyboy.  I just want to make sure we have all the facts straight."

"You've got all you're gonna get.  Now, beat it!  I'm gonna get some sleep."

As the IS man exited, Major William Radcliffe leaned back in the huge chair and closed his eyes.  Once again, the scene replayed through his tortured mind:

"Viking One, this is Norad Control, do you see the bogey?"

"Negative, Control ... Wait ... Jesus!"  Heavy breathing echoed in the oxygen mask as he fought the controls to bring the supersonic fighter back to level flight.

"Viking One, say again?"

"Control, Viking One.  I see it now.  It seems to be a brilliant glowing orb -- shifting colors ... Yahhh!"

"Viking One, Control.  What's wrong?  Please respond!"

Control, Viking One.  I'm okay.  It seemed to be trying to communicate.  I got ... feelings ... like peace.  It wants us to know it's peaceful."  The breathing in the mask was fitful, sporadic.

"Viking One, Control.  we are scrambling assistance.  Please maintain position and tracking."

"Control, Viking One ... Shit!"

"Viking One, say again?"

"It just crossed in front of me and accelerated away like I was standing still."  The breathing echoed in staccato bursts.  "It's gone, Control.  It just flew away."

Will's muscles twitched in his sleep, his fingers flexing.  The final scene fled through his mind -- the one thing he'd held back from the debriefing: great white wings thrusting soundlessly, as the beautiful figure swept upward toward the heavens.  The clarity of the stars stood out in glaring reality as the figure receded into them.  Then he felt it ... it was like a mental wink.  A wink from God.

No, he'd never tell them what it was.  He knew he'd never fly again, if he did.  Then again, he also knew that it wouldn't matter if he couldn't fly again.

He'd flown with angels.  He'd never be the same again.

Dallas D'Angelo-Gary 01