Authorial_04_LA_FINAL_low_with watermark

from the darkest parts of our minds, or our
nightmares.
He sat at a table by himself in the Air
Base’s cafeteria, sipping his coffee and
thumbing through the newspaper.The
front page headline read: “Martians
Refuse Tour of the Country.”
“Good grief!” Nathan said. “Another
headline about the ‘Martians’! And
if you stuck wings on a pig it would
be a jet!”
But in spite of his scorn and disbelief,
Nathan’s curiosity still managed to get
the better of him.
“Rumors are swirling about that the
men from Mars have refused a tour of
the country,” the article read. “This has
not been verified, but we do know that
on the few occasions they have shown
their faces in public, they have been met
by overwhelming crowds, which were
both jubilant and fearful. It may be that
the overwhelming response to their
presence is more than they can handle,
but some experts are saying—” Nathan
slammed the newspaper down on the
table and pushed it away disdainfully.
That’s all the foolishness I can take for one
day. Even if these Martians were real,
and of course they’re not, it’s disgraceful
how much attention and adulation they
are getting. All that just for being different
and new? The Communists and Nazis are
also different and new. Does that mean if
they come here people will be ready to follow
them for those differences?
Nathan gulped down the last of his
coffee and pushed his chair back from
the table. But when he turned around
to leave, he nearly bumped into a
Lieutenant.
“Captain Benson,” the Lieutenant said.
“You’re wanted in briefing room six.”
“I’m supposed to fly 30 minutes from
now,” Nathan responded.
“Not anymore. There has been a change
of plans. I’ll escort you.”
Nathan shrugged and followed the
Lieutenant. Briefing room six was one of
the larger briefing rooms. When Nathan
stepped inside he saw that the table had
been removed, and replaced with row
upon row of chairs. Most of the chairs
were already occupied, and most of the
men in the chairs were not men Nathan
recognized. At the front of the room was
a movie screen, and off to the side of
that was a man in a lab coat who stood
next to a large pad of paper mounted on
an easel. The man was thin and bald on
top, and wore round glasses which kept
slipping down his nose.
The Lieutenant sat down next to
Nathan, but they said nothing to one
another. In fact, there was complete
silence for the next five minutes as more
men trickled in and sat down. After that
a general stepped into the room, and
everyone rose and saluted. The general
ordered them to sit back down and relax.
“Now men,” the general began. “You
may have been seeing and hearing
some strange stories about aliens in the
newspapers. I know there have been a
lot of gushy and sloppy opinions and
theories going around, but the facts of
the matter are true. There are Martians
staying in the White House.”
A murmur spread through the room.
“I know, it sounds like something
straight out of HG Wells, but it’s
true,” the General said. “Someone kill
the lights.”
The General stepped to the side of the
screen as the lights switched off.
“Roll the film,” he said.
The movie screen came to life with a
silent film showing the grounds around
the white house. President Roosevelt
could be seen walking with a group
of men. Most of them appeared to be
security, and military officials, but three
of them were strangely dressed. They
were wearing some kind of robes, or
cloaks. They had wide loose sleeves, and
one of them wore a tall and somewhat
conical hat, vaguely reminiscent of
the crowns worn by ancient Egyptian
pharaohs. At least two of the oddly
dressed men had long hair.
But aside from the hair and clothing,
there was nothing particularly alien
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