“The meeting will be led by General Pickler of Air Force Intelligence,” the colonel said, indicating the man at the head of the table on the big screen. “So you know, Mr. Danielson, they can see several other conference rooms from their screen. My report will be one of several that will be made at this meeting, and the objects of your report will be one of several I will be reporting on. You will speak only when asked to, and only on the topic of your report. This meeting will be classified level P5 based on the presence of you and some other low-level civilians. So you know, I checked and confirmed that your Armed Services Secrecy Act Agreement is up to date prior to approving your attendance here today. Consider yourself informed that this meeting most definitely falls under the auspices of that contract.”

Neal noticed the colonel was looking specifically at him as he said this. He nodded seriously, but inside him he felt two conflicting emotions coming to the forefront as the colonel spoke: firstly, how damn cool it was to be attending a classified meeting, but secondly, it was also dawning on him that he had clearly just signed up for what was probably going to be two hours of serious tedium. This would be a thorough test of his inherent allergy to monotony, delivered as only the military can deliver monotony. He only hoped he didn’t actually fall asleep as he had so often in class. No, that would be bad, he thought. Shit, have to stay awake, he thought. Shit, what am I doing here, he thought.

The colonel then turned briefly to the doctor, seated calmly on his other side in her somehow smart white T-shirt. On top of the T-shirt she wore a knee-length, grey, thick-knit woolen cardigan, which framed an exquisitely well-polished silver necklace from a trip to the Mayan Riviera decades ago.

“Dr. West,” he said, “as with all our meetings so far in your stay with us at the Array, this falls under the Agreement you are no doubt very familiar with. Level P5, as I said before.”

Laurie nodded professionally and they all turned to the screen, where they too seemed to be coming to some kind of order. Barrett clicked on the sound button and ‘Mute Off’ appeared briefly in the center of the screen.

“… ime we got started, gentlemen, ladies.” said the general at the head of the other table. The hubbub died down, the general nodded to his aide and scribe to his side, and began:

“Good afternoon, everyone, let’s get started. Plenary Briefing of United States Air Force Intelligence, Surveillance Branch, September 27th, General Pickler chairing.