Making the Galaxy Great
Team Player

Jason was silent for a moment. Then several more moments.

Aliens!

The thought of working for a secret government organization that worked with aliens — actual aliens — was terrifying. And awesome.

Colonel Williams kept staring at him expectantly. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible because his nerves were strangling his throat. “You want me to work for DOS? What would I do? Like, working with alien tech and stuff? I’m not a scientist or anything, but you know, maybe I could be the person that documents everything for you, or files stuff away in a secret warehouse. I drove a forklift one summer during college and—”

The Colonel help up a hand to signal that Jason should be quiet. There was something in the way she did so that told Jason she was accustomed to giving commands and having them followed. And since she looked as if she could go 10 rounds with the terrifying Agent McCauley, there was even more reason to comply.

“I’m not talking about putting you on warehouse duty, Mr. Fleming. I was thinking more of having you in the field.”

“In the field . . .” Jason muttered. “You mean, like McCauley? You know, I think I might want to politely decline that offer. First of all, I have zero training. And second, I got shot today and I didn’t like it and it scared the shit out of me. Pardon me.”

Colonel Williams held up her hand again and nodded her head in understanding.

“Yes, you got shot. But your quick reactions probably saved the life of one of our best agents. And then you managed to drive all the way here with a pulser wound. And you even ran our Russian guests into a ditch, which made it pretty easy to pick them up. McCauley was impressed. And as I’m sure you’ve guessed, she is never impressed.”

Jason took a deep, slow breath to calm himself. “I was just running on adrenaline . . . I’ve never driven like that before. And I wasn’t even thinking when I saw that first guy with the gun. I just grabbed McCaul—”

“Mr. Fleming,” the Colonel cut in. “We all run on adrenaline when we’re in danger. It’s just that some of us run better than others.”

She let the words hang in the air for several seconds while Jason continued to knead the sheet on the bed, which now looked like a long white rope. Finally the Colonel spoke again. “So, what do you say? Want to be part of our team?”

Jason really wanted to take a piss more than anything. But Colonel Williams and Michael were eyeing him as though he were about to divulge the true secret hiding place of the holy grail. “What happens if I say no?”

The Colonel frowned. “Well, I wasn’t totally truthful earlier. We can wipe your mind, using a Marjan mind probe. It’s designed to repair brain injuries, but it works for this kind of thing, too.”

As she spoke, Michael seemed about to jump in, but the Colonel held up her hand. “Only problem is it’s not calibrated for human brains so it might wipe out, say, five years of memories. That happened last time we tried it.”

Five years of memories? That would take Jason back to about the time he and Candice got divorced, when Shelby was only eight years old. He tried to will his hands to stop trembling.

“Why is all of this secret, anyway?” asked Jason. He didn’t expect a straight answer, but he felt he had to address the turd on the table. “I mean, why shouldn’t the world know about the aliens? Think of all the knowledge—”

“I just take orders, Fleming. And this has been our policy for seventy-odd years. And you’re stalling. I need your answer.”

Jason’s answer was more questions. “I don’t understand how you can simply ask me to become a government agent, just like that. You must have some sort of screening and recruiting process. I mean, how do you know I won’t just go out and tell everybody about this secret base full of alien tech?”

The Colonel’s eyes bored deep into Jason. “Because we would turn you into a paranoid lunatic in about five minutes.”

“What?”

“You would be all over social media with crazy conspiracy rants. There would be incidents that showed you’d lost your mind, posts from people who claimed you behaved strangely . . .”

Jason waved his hands. “I don’t even have a Facebook account.”

“You will. And it will be convincing.”

As Jason absorbed the full, dreadful weight of the threat, the Colonel said cheerfully: “So, what do you say? Want to join our team, or turn into one of those crazy people everyone avoids on the street?”

Joining the team certainly seemed like the better choice.

“So,” Jason began slowly, “How would this work? Do I quit my job and start training? Do I get a badge?”

“No, no and no. You keep your job. You’ll just help out Agent McCauley when she needs you.”

Agent McCauley?

“Isn’t there somebody who’s less . . . who’s more of a . . . people person?”

A huge grin rippled across the Colonel’s face. “That is precisely why you would work with her. Agent McCauley has many gifts, but there are times when she could use the help of someone who has more of a . . . human touch. We think you might be that person.”

“Have you told her this?”

The Colonel nodded.

“And?”

“She didn’t say no, which for her is like a big yes,” offered Michael.

Jason wasn’t so sure about that. But by now, his mind was hopping like a cricket from one thought to the next. “Would I have a weapon? One of those pulser—”

“No.”

That was probably a good thing, Jason had to admit. The only weapon he had ever held was a paintball gun.

“My car . . .”

“We’ll get it repaired and change your license plate.”

Jason’s eyes widened. “Oh right. If they got my plate number, they can figure out who I am and where I live. Those guys were Russians, did you say? What did they want? Would they try to kill me? I have a daughter, you know.”

The Colonel shook her head. “One thing you need to learn is not to ask so many questions. As for your license, we’ve already hacked the local DMV and linked your old license plate number to a fictitious guy who lives at a non-existent address a few miles from your house. Don’t worry; we’ve been around this block a few times.”

Jason relaxed slightly. He slipped out of the bed, only to discover he was dressed only in his boxer briefs, then jumped back into the bed.

“Oh, sorry about that,” said Michael. “Your clothes were pretty badly burned. We’re trying to replace someone around here who’s the same size.”

“Go see if they found anything,” the Colonel ordered. “Now, Mr. Fleming, back to your assignment. I did mention that it’s unpaid, didn’t I? I don’t really have a line in my budget for civilians who show up unexpectedly in our facility.”

“Umm,” said Jason. “You mean I could get shot at, and I don’t even get paid?”

The Colonel smiled. “You will be serving your country. And we have great medical care, as you can see. But I don’t intend to get you shot. McCauley is only to use your help in non-lethal situations. And we want you to go back to your regular life and regular job. Otherwise, we draw even more attention to what happened at your workplace this morning. And by the way, your story is that we’re chasing an interstate opioid ring and that our informant mistakenly slipped you a flash drive with records we needed to put them away. McCauley brought you in to make a statement.”

“But there was a gunfight,” Jason pointed out. “In the parking light of my work. You can’t just act like that never happened.”

The Colonel shrugged. “If anyone tries to examine the video from the parking lot camera, they’re not going to replace out there was an inexplicable glitch in the system. And those pulsers don’t make much noise, so we’re pretty certain nobody inside your building heard anything.”

“Yeah, and it’s a shit building with almost no windows,” Jason observed. His head was spinning and his pulse fluttering. He was talking to people who could manufacture events and make events disappear with equal ease. “So, I go back to my regular life, and I tell people I just blundered into some drug gang thing. Then what?”

“McCauley will contact you if she needs you.”

Jason breathed an invisible sigh of relief. From what little he’d seen of her, Agent McCauley was unlikely to call upon him for assistance, so he should probably relax and start the arduous process of trying to un-remember the remarkable events of the last four days.

The Colonel looked at her phone, which had just beeped. “Clothes are on the way, Mr. Fleming. Welcome aboard.”