Lights
* * *
“Coffee, Jack?”
“Are you going to talk to me or not?”
“Sit down, will you? You know I can’t talk about that. Just let it go.”
“I will not let it go, Michael. If I have to go out there myself –”
“It’s been a long time since we’ve just talked. Can’t we do that? How
is Millie? Nancy suggested that you and the family join us up in
Maine this spring? What do you say?”
“He was our friend. Not just yours. He and I were flying radio
control models together years before the Air Force.”
“I know that.”
“We flew more than a hundred missions over Nam together – ”
“I know that, too.”
“ – and he convinced Clark to send a rescue mission after me in Laos
when the rest of the brass were ready to let me rot.”
“I had something to do with that as well.”
“I know you did! I know that! And you and I both know he’s like our
brother and would never leave us out there. So either you’re going to
tell me where he is and give me help, or I’ll make my best guess and
go out there by myself.”
“What? You’ll just leave Millie and Jonathan and Sarah? Now
you’re talking crazy.”
The two men stared at one another for several wordless seconds.
“Forget it. So you’ve decided it’s none of my business. And it sure
as hell isn’t your business what I do from here on out.”
Jack turned and headed for the door of Michael’s office.
“I can’t tell you anything, Jack! I can’t! It’s not my decision!
You’ve got to know that!” shouted Michael after his friend.
“Yeah, I do know. National security. You can tell me, but then
you’d have to kill me.”
Jack was at the door.
“Jack!”
Jack opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
“All right! All right!”
Jack looked back towards Michael. Michael’s head was in his hands,
looking down at the desk. Slowly, Michael looked up.
“What?” Jack asked.
Without looking at him, Michael motioned his friend to come back
into the office. Jack stepped towards Michael and shut the door
quietly behind him, but went no further.
“You’ll tell me?”
Michael didn’t say anything at first. Then he whispered, “Yes.”
Jack returned to his seat.
“I’m listening.”
Michael reached underneath his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled
out a bottle of scotch and two glasses.
“No thanks.”
“Just humor me you jerk. Can’t you do that much?”
Jack relented and took the shot. He even managed a weak smile for
his old friend.
“What do you remember about that night?” Michael asked Jack.
“Just what you have in the report. Nothing more.”
“Sure. But tell me again.”
Jack sighed and relayed the events that now haunted his dreams
every night.
“I was pilot in command. We landed on time in Seattle, just after oh-
four-hundred. Eastern flight 273. Red-eye out of Chicago.”
“Yes.”
“We only had sixteen passengers.”
“Seventeen.”
“Okay. Seventeen plus me and my crew. Who’s telling this story?”
Michael smiled.
“When we disembarked the suits were there to greet us. They flashed
badges. Said they were with the DoD’s Special Division for Space
Science. I told one of them that I’d never heard of such a division
within Defense. Furthermore, I said I didn’t believe they were who
they said they were. But you’re here, so I guess they were for real.
There were a couple of Air Force there as well. I told my story to a
Major Straton and one of your guys.”
“And your fingernails weren’t pulled? Or did they follow my orders?”
“Well, they asked that I keep all this to myself. Obviously this is
something big. They knew I was retired Air Force, so there was an
understanding between Straton and I.”
“But they didn’t know you knew Dean, did they?”
“No, they didn’t seem to.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I was wondering what they were telling my passengers,
because they were already shaken up as it was. I’m thinking they
could make things worse.”
“Christ, Jack!” laughed Michael. “We’re not Neanderthals!”
Jack shrugged his shoulders.
Michael sighed and said, “It doesn’t even matter. If anyone wants to
talk, we wouldn’t care. Discrediting such a ridiculous story won’t be
hard.”
Jack nodded.
“Tell me about Missoula,” said Michael.
Jack remained silent. Michael began to tell Jack's story.
“Bright object at thirty five thousand feet and a heading of two-three-
zero.”
“Best guess,” said Jack.
“Weather clear. Waning moon less than a quarter full is behind and
just barely over the horizon.”
“Yes.”
“Object crosses in front of plane and draws up along right wing tip.”
“Right. But you forgot. Me and Jackson and Peters – ”
“Copilot and navigator.”
“Yes. We watched the object approach us from below our cruising
altitude.”
“Then once the object is along side you, it mirrors you.”
“Yes. It mimics my control inputs. I do something, it does exactly
the same thing at exactly the same time. I bank right ten degrees, it
banks right ten degrees. I bank left, it banks left. I nose up, it noses
up. It knows what I’m going to do before I do it!”
“This goes on for some five minutes.”
“Approximately. And the passengers are at the cabin door asking
what’s going on.”
“And then you decide to radio.”
“No. We’d already been trying to radio since we saw the thing! We
were out of range of Chicago. We weren’t close enough to Seattle.
We’re just over the mountains, so we get Missoula. They scramble
two fighters.”
“Atkins and Dean.”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“Dean and this Atkins fella – I never got his first name – they get to
us about ten minutes after radioing the base. Soon as they pull up,
the object shoots off. And I mean shoots off. Unbelievable. Near
instant vertical acceleration. If it’s Soviet, then we’re in deep
trouble.”
Michael nodded in agreement.
“Anyway, Dean takes off after it. Don’t see how he thinks he’s going
to catch it, but he follows. We’re those his orders?”
Michael shook his head no.
“They weren’t?”
Michael continued to shake his head no, but voiced a nearly
inaudible, “Yes.”
Jack just watched his friend. They were quiet for some time.
“Atkins escorted us to Seattle. That’s it. That’s all I know. Now you
tell me what you know Colonial.”
Michael looked up at the ceiling.
“It’s not what we know. It’s what we don’t know.”
“Just tell me.”
“We don’t have anything. There’s no plane.”
“No wreckage? Nothing?”
“Not a shred.”
“So what? It’s a big place out there. You’re still looking, right?”
“No. We’ve searched over a hundred mile radius extending into the
Canada. Nothing.”
“But you gotta keep looking! For crying out loud Michael! He’s there
somewhere! At least find his body and allow Allison the dignity of a
funeral.”
“We can’t look forever! It’s been months. He’s dead. We can’t send
men tramping through the snow in the middle of February in the
Rockies!”
Jack stood up and slammed his empty Scotch glass down.
“Wait until Spring,” said Michael, trying to placate his buddy.
“You’ll go then. Do you hear me? You’ll lead the expedition.”
“I’m going now, Michael.”
“Don’t be a fool.”
“He’d have done it for us.”
“No. No he wouldn’t have. Dean was a tremendous friend. A
brother. But he wasn’t stupid.”
“I’m not discussing it anymore. Obviously, you’ve made up your
mind. Well, so have I.”
Jack again headed out of the office.
“Wait, Jack! Don’t go out there! You can’t go out there! There
something else you need to know.”
Jack turned with a look of impatience. Michael stood up and sighed.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” Michael hesitated, unsure of
himself for a moment. “I’m violating direct orders from the top. Do
you understand me?”
Jack nodded.
“There were words.”
“Words?”
“Dean’s last words.”
“What were they?”
“Something about lights.”
“What?”
“Something about lights. ‘Oh my God. The lights. There are so many
lights. They’re beautiful. So beautiful.’ ”
“Beautiful lights? Those were Dean’s last words?”
“Yes,” said Michael with a solemn nod.
“That’s the best you can come up with? Lights? What the hell is that
supposed to do? Scare me?”
“I’m telling you what Dean said – ”
“So, did you just come up with this silly voodoo story and hope that
I’ll walk away and decide to not go find Dean?”
“ – verbatim, Commander. I’m telling you what he said verbatim!
Look! You reported the object yourself. What do I need to make-up?”
Jack glared at Michael.
“I wasted my time coming to see you. I don’t know you anymore,”
Jack said softly, and once again turned to leave the office. Michael
wasn’t looking at him. His attention was directed at something in his
desk. Jack opened the door and stepped over the threshold when his
limbs froze. There he stood in the doorway, still. Ice water flowed
through his veins as the voice of Commander Dean Benjamin’s
reached out to him from that night over starry Montana. Michael was
playing a tape for him. The player sat on his desk and the words
drifted out. There was quite a bit of static, surely adding to the
effect. There was something not right about the voice. Yet it was
Dean’s. Clearly it was Dean’s. But it was a voice from a million
miles away. Disembodied. Not part of this world. Not even wanting
to be part of this world.
Oh my God! The lights! There are so many lights! They’re
beautiful! So beautiful!
“Play it again,” Jack said.
Michael did. Two more times.
“What does he mean?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know, Jack. Missoula recorded it. It was the last thing heard.”
“What are you up to? What’s really happening? Is it the Russians?
Are we in danger?”
“We don’t know. We want to know. We doubt it’s the Russians. Our
intelligence indicates they may have had similar encounters. At the
moment, you know as much as anybody. You want in? Fine. I can
make that happen. Just wait a little bit.”
Jack slowly shook his head, saying, “No. You’re not serious. That
recording – good God! You almost had me fooled! I thought that was
really Dean’s voice for a second!”
“Jack! It is Dean’s voice! No tricks. I swear.”
“This must be something big – ”
“Yes, it is – ”
“ – for you to go to this trouble – ”
“Dammit, Jack! Listen to me! No one is trying to hide anything from
you! I’m not! I’ve told you everything! The truth.”
“I’m going after him. Now.”
“I – I don’t know why, Jack, but I don’t think there’s anything to find.
I feel that in my gut. Don’t go. Not now.”
“What are you going to do if I ignore you, Michael? Am I going to be
shot? Car accident maybe?”
Michael shook his head, and in a sad voice said, “No, of course not.
But I’m going to ask you one more time. Please don’t go. Not alone.
In Spring I’ll give you my best men. I’ll go with you. I need to see for
myself, too.”
Jack just smiled and waived his hand dismissively. With that, he
walked out of the office and this time kept going. Michael continued
to stare at the empty doorway. He played the tape again. Dean’s
voice repeated it’s rapturous exclamation. Michael shuddered, and
then got annoyed with himself for doing so. He walked to the
doorway and took one look down the long, sterile, empty hallway
with its harsh lighting. Pulling the door shut, Michael whispered
softly, “Bye, buddy. Good-bye.”
Alan J. Levine © 2008