The Last Christmas On Earth

EPISODE IV-4

"Mr. President, you know very well that among my requests there was the one to personally choose every single element of the team So if I have to be honest, yes, I do mind it. I am very sorry, but on the other hand you are the boss here and so you can do as you wish" he replied, dismissing the question simplistically when he was sure he had regained his composure.

"I knew you would understand and thank you very much, I really appreciate it," the President replied, breathing a sigh of relief, but knowing him well, he knew he had just made a new enemy. Then he turned to the scientists. "Now I believe that the time has come for our guests to deal with some private business, like for example warning families. Soon they will have to cut the bridges with the rest of the world and we all hope that it will only be for a few days," he said finally going to turn on the lights in the room.

Helen grabbed the mug because before leaving the Country Hole she wanted at least to finish her drink, but a sudden sharp cry scared her and she threw it over her.

"Damn, you're pretty tense," said Mike.

"I would like to see you, in my place!" She replied, annoyed, the drink had poured on her uniform and on her hand, awakening a terrible burning sensation on her little finger, which up until then had not bothered her.

"What is this noise?"

"It's Meg," said Mike.

"What the hell is she screaming for?" Helen asked him. Meanwhile, she had resumed scratching her little finger with resignation without having the courage to remove the bandage to control it.

"She's in the other room and she drunk a lot tonight too, right now she's talking to two journalists and she's all taken by her interpretation."

"And what can the dear old Meg have to say so interesting, to even bother journalists?"

The barman sighed, shaking his head, but said nothing.

"Are you going to answer by the end of the day?" Urged James impatiently.

"At least this one I wanted to save you ..." Mike said, twisting his mouth in a half-smile in the hope of convincing them to fly over. "All right, as you wish ... Meg claims to have seen the Martians," he explained.

"... the Martians?" Helen echoed incredulously.

"What do you want, for a five-dollar bill to be converted into beer that woman is able to tell of being the reincarnation of Napoleon."

"You're right ..." Helen admitted thoughtfully.

"Are we going to eavesdrop?" James suggested.

"And the meddler?"

"You said it yourself, if he stays until the end of the Lobster's Festival we'll find him at Sally's later, or at least tomorrow."

She hesitated, she had absolutely no desire to find a tough nut to crack.

"Come on," James insisted, "maybe we'll have some fun."

"And so be it!" Helen agreed, but she was convinced that there would be nothing to laugh about.

"So I can serve you the fries now?" Mike asked hopefully holding out the new drink he had prepared for Helen.

"Let's go with the chips," she said, grabbing the glasses. James took the fries and went to the small room.

"... Then there was like a wave of light, like a big beacon that hit the car for a few seconds ..." Meg was saying, all excited, but as she saw Helen and James appear lowered the volume of her voice and turned her back on them.

"Now what, have you run out of fuel again?" Muttered one of the two men in his colleague's ear, hinting to get up, he was convinced he would have to make yet another trip to the counter because the old woman needed to fuel up. The colleague grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him down to his seat, pointing at the newcomers with a glance. Helen and James placed beer and chips on an open table and joined them.

"I'm Sheriff Helen Burn and this is my deputy, James Robinson. Journalists, right?" She went straight to the point.

"What made you think so?" The older of the two quipped.

"Dressed like that you couldn't have been anything but journalists or clandestine bookies, but Meg stopped running for a while ..." she replied sarcastically repaying him with his own coin.

"We're from the Paranormal Journal of Denver," the younger informed her, handing her a business card.

"Never heard before," Helen said carelessly slipping the ticket into her shirt pocket, not knowing what to say, the young man shrugged and looked away.

"What prompted you to come so far and talk to our dear Meg?" James asked him.

"Our magazine specializes in reports on mysterious facts, we are here to interview the lady about a certain fact," the other replied. Meanwhile, Meg didn't even bother to turn around.

"And who told you that the lady witnessed a paranormal event?"

"In our environment, the voices circulate very quickly."

"It will be as you say," Helen said skeptically, then turned to the old woman.

"Meg, have you seen Martians around here?"

Finally, she raised her head to look at her, but right after she bowed her head without answering.

"So, Meg? What, did you drink your tongue tonight?" Helen urged. James stubbed her toe, because she had been too mean.

"It's getting late," the woman mumbled getting up, but she staggered and James held her before she could fall.

"It's getting late for us too, if you want we can give you a ride home," the older reporter offered his arm chivalrously, to Meg.

"Goodbye," he greeted James and Helen, but James grabbed Meg's other arm.

"Leave me, I have to go," she protested, struggling, but Helen blocked her way.

"Meg, did you make that anonymous phone call?"

Meg didn't answer.

"Meg ... this is really important ... would you help us, please?" Helen insisted.

"I ... I said I have to go," she repeated after a brief hesitation, freeing herself of James with a yank. Then she held out her elbow to the oldest journalist who took her arm and left.

"Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Helen asked James.

"Too athletic and too well dressed, too polite and too fragrant! And too bulky tools in their shoulder holster, if those two were journalists, well I'm the Dalai Lama," he said.

"FBI?" Said Helen.

"I have no idea, but something in their eyes tells me that they are really those who last night pretended to shoot at us. I'm sure they are laughing at us right now."

At the end of the meeting, the President wanted to personally shake hands with each one of the Team members. He had done this by bestowing words of encouragement and recommending to keep it secret as absolute as possible. The secret services of other nations were always lurking and could hide even in the most unexpected of neighbors, not to mention the anti-American enemies and all the snakes who use every means possible to steal information. Then he had insisted on the importance of secrecy, because they never knew who to trust, one word on the subject would have sufficed to unleash panic in the Congress or, worse, hell on the entire world. Finally, he had offered them to use of his inviolable telephone lines so that those who needed them could communicate with their family members in complete safety, but in truth, there had been only a few of them who called home. Professor Hamilton had in fact included among the criteria for choosing his collaborators the fact that they had no family, because in certain situations family members are always a terribly effective blackmail weapon. Finally, it was time to get on the military helicopter that would take them to the Nellis base. The Ch-47 Chinook flew to Arlington and hurriedly flew above some states to arrive in Nevada, on a non-stop journey that lasted for about five hours and that had been devastating for all passengers, now severely tired by the grueling meeting they attended before. At departure time, everyone had chosen a seat and had closed himself in his own thoughts. After a few minutes the most of them, lulled by the vibrations and the rhythmic buzzing of the blades, had succumbed to fatigue and allowed themselves to go in the arms of Morpheus. Among the few remaining awake there were those who wondered if they could spend Christmas at home and who, instead, how they would have justified their long and silent absence with their friends; there were those who prayed and those who wondered if in the interest of the nation, after having used them as rags, they would have disappeared one by one in the most disparate ways, in order not to leave traces of that mission. There were those who worried about having to face a hoard of rabid aliens who rushed to free their mate and who wondered how he could have been forgiven by his son for not being present at his Christmas pageant. For her part, Margareth had continued for a while to wonder how hard it would have been to regain Louise's friendship. The helicopter flew over the circular chain of the Groom Mountains and then began to lower, the loudspeaker announced they were close to their destination, and all the passengers appeared at the portholes to observe from above that mysterious land, apparently nothing but an arid desert, known as "Skunkworks" or "Dreamland" because of the many secrets it contained. Meanwhile, some members of the Team had put aside the tiredness to start discussing the issue again, discussing hypotheses after hypotheses, almost shouting to overwhelm the noise of the flight. The only one who had remained aloof during the entire flight was Abel Parker. Apparently, she had spent that time by listening to music from her MP3 player and she had been careful not to socialize with anyone. She had not even responded to the smiles of circumstance that from time to time someone had addressed her, thus showing that she was lacking even a single shred of education. Looking at the sand-covered plains on the edge of State Route 375, someone noticed the bonfires of the hundreds of enthusiasts who used to meet there all year round: they were equipped with video cameras designed to shoot in the most extreme conditions and sensors of various kinds, detectors purchased via the Internet or self-produced in their garage and contraptions designed to report the most absurd things. The helicopter gently touched down on a large "H" inscribed in a circle, its occupants descended and found a group of soldiers armed with M16 rifles to welcome them and with harsh manners invited them to get on a van. At the end of a short journey, the scientists were dumped in front of a building about a mile from the central body of the military installation, of which they vaguely sensed the outline silhouetted in the darkness of the night. The building, guarded by sensors and surveillance cameras, was surrounded by a pretty little garden that in the middle of the Nevada desert was a miracle. A tall officer with a straight and stiff back gave them ritual recommendations about what they could and could not do. At the end of the explanation, he gave each of them a memo bearing the internal regulations. He repeated several times that they were inside a military base with a very high level of secrecy, they should have been careful not to break the rules, because otherwise, they would have been subject to court-martial, even though they were civilians. Once explained all the formalities, he greeted them and wished them a good stay and a good job, then he jumped on the running board of the truck and the driver left quickly, raising a fuss.

Luke Mc January was walking satisfied under the pergola adorned with fragrant honeysuckle flowers. He had just enjoyed a delicious dinner ended with a tasty dessert accompanied by a homemade liquor and now he couldn't wait to get some sleep. Sally took care of him in a special way, because he had been able to ingratiate her from the beginning using gentle and veiled allusions that had made her suspect that he was timidly courting her. His way of looking at her and talking to her had made her feel young again and had made her dream, and Luke was glad to have succeeded without arousing the jealousy of her husband, who ignored her devoting himself, when he wasn't busy at the Service Station, in reading frivolous novels. He turned the corner and walked the short path that separated him from his room, breathing deeply; here the columns that supported the sloping roof and the wooden railing were covered with grapes of fragrant wisteria flowers. The moment he put the key in the lock on the door, Helen and James materialized at his sides and he gave a blank look to one and then to the other.