

                      Argument for Secrecy


First struck by lightning, then shot out of the sky, then taken
prisoner, and now strapped to a table while a bunch of ugly
humans in white coats poke her with their primitive instruments,
Ibikhok had decided upon a good name for this planet. She would
call it, "Place of punishment for being so stupid as to sign on
with this expedition in the first place!"

"How's it doing?"

"I have no idea," the doctor shrugged. "We don't have any clue
what's normal for these creatures. We just took a blood sample,
and the lab's doing an analysis. Beyond that... all we can do is
watch and learn."

General Phillips nodded, more than a bit worried about the status
of the hospital's newest patient. The President would be there in
a matter of hours, and if anything went wrong, it would be his
ass hanging out to dry.

"No more blood samples. Just leave him alone for now."

"Yes sir."

As the hours ticked by, more and more bits of the alien
spacecraft were brought in. Not enough to get a true picture of
its size, but enough to get a taste for their technology.

"These shards... what are they made out of?"

"We don't know yet, Sir, but we're getting there."

The General nodded, a little uneasy. We don't know yet? He dared
not imagine what might happen if the aliens took this incident as
an act of war. What if this had been a diplomatic mission they'd
shot down? There could be no telling the repercussions.

He was still thinking this over when the President's plane
landed. They were aiming for secrecy, so no red carpet was rolled
out. In fact, none of the airmen on the ground had any idea who
it was that the plane carried, and when Harry S. Truman came out,
he was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and sun-glasses. Phillips
waited for the entourage of secret service officers and various
top aides to get to the hanger before he came out and introduced
himself. The President had smiled and asked how "his guest" was
doing.

It was about an hour later, after some failed attempts at
communication with this so-called guest, that they finally sat
down for dinner. Truman was tired, and the lines of worry on his
face weren't going away.

"The key question is how we break this to the press," he finally
stated over a cup of coffee. "How do we come out and tell people
that... that we shot down a flying saucer?"

There were a few embarrassed smiles, oddly enough, perhaps akin
to those the cavemen first had when they "accidentally" downed
their first mammoth. Phillips, however, wasn't amused.

"Mr. President... are we sure we should tell them?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is... well, we might be better off if we let this
rest for the time being. No doubt, the aliens are looking for
their lost ship by now. Perhaps, for all they know, it never even
made it to Earth."

The President smiled, then laughed, then wiped his lip and sat
back a little bit further so as to get a good clean view of the
man he was talking to. "General Phillips... that's the darndest
thing I ever heard."

"I'm serious, Sir."

"I believe you are," the President nodded, still smiling.

"Sir, if we tell the world we have a saucer... they're going to
want to know how we got it, and the truth is going to come flying
out. There is no telling what might happen. No telling. What if
these spacemen are communists? Or worse... what if they're
Nazis?"

"Nazi spacemen," Truman nodded, savoring the thought. "Have you
considered a career in comedy, General?"

"Sir, I'm not joking." Phillips ignored the laughter. He didn't
know these people and he didn't care to. What he did know was
that the U.S., indeed, the whole world, was on the verge of
something big, something they couldn't control, something that
could end up being devastating, and once they slipped over the
edge, no matter what happened, things would never be the same.

"Okay, everybody," Truman waved down the laughter. "Let the man
speak. No more jokes, alright General?"

"Sir, in the first place, we don't know anything about these
aliens or their technology. It might serve us to hold off on the
press announcements at least until we've had a chance to analyze
what little we have."

"And in the second place?"

"In the second place, the moment word gets out about the saucer
and the alien we're holding, the Communists are going to have
this place crawling with spies. Consider if the situation were
reversed. Wouldn't you try and prevent them from taking sole
advantage of their 'guest'... not to mention the saucer?"

That one stuck a sore spot, Phillips could see. Clearly the
President had considered this. Or perhaps he hadn't, and that's
why the notion came as such a shock. Truman put down his coffee
and looked around the table at his advisors. They were no longer
laughing. Not one of them.

