So earlier in the week I got a phone call from the head of DAMOCLES. I was still dealing with the day of Computerfail and unable to really comprehend what he was telling me. Something about a UFO being found in the sea between Sweden and Finland, and how they hadn't noticed it'd been found by some group of high tech scavengers looking for lost champagne on the sea floor until the company went public with !@#$ video of the thing.
The saving grace, as he told me as I tried to get the SPYGOD SCOUTS to fix my computer and stay the !@#$ out of my porn folders, was that the thing was too grainy to make out, and they couldn't go back and take another look because they were on a budget. That gave them a lot of time to get down there and fix the problem. But could they possibly borrow some COMPANY aid in the matter, if necessary?
Me, I'm keeping a bunch of curious young men and women from seeing exactly how their SPYGOD makes himself happy late at night, so I tell him "yes." Then I curse him out for his lousy timing and hang up with so much force that a window breaks.
So earlier today, I'm only slightly mystified to discover that, apologies to Thomas Dolby, one of our submarines is missing. The crew of the Thunderball was told to step off, go get dinner, and pretend they saw nothing. Normally that's our line, so I call up to Deep Ten to ask if this was about that alien thing he called me about on Monday, but he's not answering calls right now. Or later.
We still have Thunderball on the big board, of course. It's on a course for the Botnia Gulf at full speed. We call out for a confirmation but get nothing but silence, and then the !@#$ disconnect the tracker and we got !@#$ all.
A couple hours go by. No word. I'm thinking about sending out another sub just to see what the !@#$ is going on when I get word that there was evidence of a series of explosions in that area. One bubbled all the way to the surface, apparently. Debris field. Gas slicks. The whole nine yards.
And if there's one thing I know from my time in this world, doing what I do, it's that UFOs do not create gas slicks when they blow up.
So I call back up and demand to speak with their director, right the !@#$ now. No can do, I'm told. Still busy. Can't say why. I threaten to fly up there and kick down the door and ram his desk up his !@#$ but am politely informed that his office has neither a door nor a desk. Then they hang up on me.
(Am I ever that rude with people? Honestly.)
Then we get another alert from the area. A pulse beam descended from the atmosphere, hit the water, and moved from east to west, keeping time with the Earth's rotation. Once it struck the area where the explosions where witnessed, there was another, larger explosion. Then the pulse beam sputtered out.
The official story was atmospheric disturbances in keeping with increased solar activity, and they've got a few experts on the television and internet already promulgating that theory.
A few Finish sailing vessels reported blind sailors, but that was it in terms of casualties. That we know of, anyway.
So what was really down there, then? A crashed extraterrestrial spacecraft? An alien superweapon DAMOCLES decided they needed to get their hands on, first? Something from their own arsenal that was hijacked, or that stole itself, HAL 9000-style?
I do not know. I may never know. I will try to find out, of course, but I know that I will be stymied and stalled every step of the way.
What I do know is that my counterparts at DAMOCLES not only have weapons pointed out, but in, and we should all be more than a little wary at that.
(SPYGOD is listening to One Of Our Submarines (Thomas Dolby) and having an Olvi Sauna beer)