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.