Page 45 of Identity Unknown
“As old as this place may look,” Tron says, “don’t be fooled. It’s got everything needed. A separate mechanical room runs the decontamination system. There are autoclaves, powerful disinfectants, positive pressure suits.”
We follow them through an airlock into a locker room with a toilet, a sink, two shower stalls, a chemical shower and not much else. Cardboard boxes of PPE are stacked against a wall, and I place my briefcase, my jump-out bag on an old wooden bench.
“All electronic devices go in here.” Lucy opens one of three tarnished copper lockers, essentially Faraday cages that shield electromagnetic transmissions.
Phones are followed in by “smart” jewelry like my ring, and the black ceramic fitness bracelet Dorothy gave Marino for Christmas. We’re told to check our pockets and bags, making certain we have nothing else electronic. Tron hands out Level-A protective gear that’s the same as what we had on earlier today, these suits bright yellow instead of chartreuse.
CHAPTER 17
Polypropylene rustles and smells like a new shower curtain as I shake open a pair of folded coveralls. In addition to self-contained breathing apparatuses, we have battery-powered in-ear headsets to amplify what’s said over a secure telephone landline.
“The hardwired phone is encrypted, and when it rings you pick it up and switch it to speakerphone.” Lucy directs this at me. “Everyone will need to talk loudly and clearly. That’s how we’ll communicate during the examination.”
“When you’re ready, exit there through that airlock.” Tron points to a steel-clad outer door that’s scratched and dented, the dull metal freckled with rust.
She and Lucy leave the same way we entered, and Marino and I are alone. But that doesn’t ensure privacy. I’m mindful of possible hidden cameras, and don’t want to mention my suspicions out loud. Nor should I have to, but Marino is too excited to pay attention.
“How is it possible we’ve never heard of this place?” he marvels as we sit down on benches across from each other.
“I suspect there are a lot of places we’ve not heard of,”I reply as we bend over to unlace our boots. “If there isn’t a legitimate reason to share information, we aren’t going to be informed by anyone, including Lucy and Benton. Or Sal Giordano for that matter. Frankly, if there isn’t a reason to know, I prefer not to anyway.”
“You’ve been working with the Armed Forces M.E.s all your career. And you swear you never got a hint about Area One? Or the SLAB?”
“I haven’t.” I tuck my pants cuffs into my socks.
“Seriously?” He’s not sure he believes me. “You’ve never once gotten the slightest indication that something spooky might be going on at Langley Air Force Base? And probably their NASA neighbor? I guarantee they’re in this together and have been all along. They’ve got to be.”
“My guess is that most of my colleagues in the military and otherwise have no idea about Area One. I doubt most NASA or Space Force people do either.” I begin putting on the bright yellow coveralls over clothes still clammy from the rain. “And those who know can’t talk about it any more than we can. That included Sal.”
“Did he ever see a UFO?” Marino shoves his big stockinged feet through plastic pants legs. “Maybe he was inside one, maybe at a crash retrieval? I wonder if he ever saw an ET dead or alive?”
“He never said.”
“Maybe he dropped a few hints?”
“Not to me.” I work my arms into the sleeves. “But certainly, he believed other intelligent life is out there and was trying to communicate with it. He was convinced that Mars was once habitable before something catastrophic happened.”
“Earth was plan B. It’s where the Martians escaped thousands of years ago when their own planet was about to be destroyed,” Marino replies as if it’s commonly known.
No doubt he learned this and more fromAll Things—Unexplained,Ancient Aliensor one of his other favorite podcasts and TV shows. He and my sister both tune in religiously, and it makes for lively dinner conversations when all of us are together.
“Dorothy’s into the SETI stuff the same way I am,” Marino is saying as we pull on rubber boots. “Not telling her about this place and what we’re doing right now is going to kill her. She’ll never forgive it.”
“Not if she doesn’t know.” I give him a look, trying to shut him up, but he’s not getting the message.
“How am I supposed to keep quiet? And why the hell should I?” He’s getting overheated by our conversation and the PPE’s thick plastic. “Last I checked we don’t work for the feds.” He gets up from the bench. “I have a right to talk about my life. I’m not a damn spy.”
“You have a right to do anything you want as long as you’re prepared for the consequences.” I zip up my coveralls.
“Well, we’d better decide on a good story to tell Dorothy about where the hell we’ve been today. Or we’ll never hear the end of it.” Grabbing a towel off a stack of them, he mops his sweaty face and the top of his head. “You know how she is when she wants to know something,” he adds, and he’s just as bad. Worse, actually.
“A military mortuary is as much as we need to tell her and anyone else.” I continue looking around for cameras while being careful what I say, and he ignores my cues. “Beyond that,the case isn’t something we can discuss. Marino. This is serious business.”
“I’ll tell you what I’m wondering.” He works his hands into a pair of thick black rubber gloves. “Maybe those freezer drawers we just saw have to do with Roswell, which you probably don’t believe was the real deal.”
“By real deal I assume you mean of an extraterrestrial nature. I’m no expert and don’t know the details.” I pull on two pairs of nitrile gloves instead of rubber ones because I have to feel what I’m doing during an autopsy.
“Trust me, what crashed in New Mexico wasn’t a weather balloon,” he replies. “It was a spacecraft with aliens on board who used vibrations to move in and out of different dimensions. I’ve seen official memos and other intelligence. You wouldn’t believe the information Janet finds for me. She knows what I want and downloads it directly into my email. I don’t even have to ask.”