IMAGINATION'S PLACE
FICTION
SOMEONE TO TALK TO
By Gerald A. Polley
Major Rita West entered the operations room. Her first week as
the night shift commander at the strategic air command had been
interesting, to say the least! She had found out things she
wished she hadn't found out! Every time she went into confession
there were things she desperately wanted to tell her priest. But
her absolute understanding of her duty kept her from saying
anything.
As she was getting ready to check in she saw several of her men
at an extra station staring at the screen and laughing. She went
over. "Hadn't you gentlemen better be preparing to take your
stations?"
"Yes, ma'am!" everybody snapped and began to take off.
She saw one of the sergeants roll up something and put it in his
pocket. "What is that, sergeant?' she asked.
"Oh, just a tabloid, ma'am!" he remarked, "Nothing
of any importance."
"Give!" the Major snapped.
The sergeant handed her the paper. She opened it up. "The
National Reporter? Really!" the Major sighed. "You
don't really believe any of this stuff, do you, sergeant?"
"Well, not too much of it, ma'am," the sergeant
answered. "But sometimes we think they get a few things
right! May I show you something, ma'am?"
"Of course!" the Major answered.
The sergeant worked the computer. "See this report, ma'am?
"Bat Boy Seen Again In Wisconsin Town"? Look at these
reports, ma'am, on the tracking of our night fliers. Look at the
date where they were on this date!"
The Major looked at the screen then stood up with a worried
expression on her face. "I see!" she remarked.
"Yes! I most certainly see! You and the others have been
aware of this, sergeant, and you have not reported it?"
"Well, really, ma'am," the sergeant answered, "we
doubt if somebody doesn't know about it. It's all being dismissed
as hysterical people with vivid imaginations. Nobody takes it
seriously!"
"Get to your post!" the Major snapped. "Yes,
ma'am!" the sergeant answered, and hurried off.
The Major rolled the newspaper up and put it in her back pocket,
checked in, and went to work. When things quieted down a bit she
plugged her headset into a secure jack, and punched out a number.
A few minutes later a pleasant female voice answered, "SU,
night operations!"
"Hi, Pat!" the Major began. "My turn to call you!
Are you aware of the Bat Boy reports in The National
Reporter?" "Oh, yes!" the FBI agent on the other
end of the line answered. With all the damned cameras out there,
with all the damned cell phones it's getting more and more
difficult for us to intercept every picture and to keep them from
being published. If we can just keep the major videos off the air
we're happy! I don't know how much longer we're going to be able
to keep it up. Sooner or later somebody out there's going to
realize there's something to all this, it isn't just mass
hysteria! We usually convince people that it's just a bat and the
image is distorted by odd atmospheric conditions."
"And people buy that?" the Major asked. The agent
laughed.
"They bought swamp gas, didn't they, and weather balloons,
and chimpanzees exposed to rapid decompression? When they don't
really want to believe, when they want you to give them an
alternative, they'll believe almost anything!"
"I thought my job was bad!" the Major commented,
"You're not Catholic, are you, you don't have to deal with
confession?"
"Well, yes I am!" the agent answered, "But we've
got a priest that knows and we can talk to him. It really
helps!" "Wow!" the Major sighed. "Wish we had
one of those in Wyoming! Well, I'll let you go. It's almost
midnight. Things should start happening here any minute."
She could hear a sigh on the other end of the line. "I hope
we don't have to explain another runaway dumpster!" the
agent remarked. "We're getting tired of trying to explain
that all the time! I wish he'd find something else for a
weapon!"
The Major laughed. "Yes!" she remarked again, "I'm
glad I don't have your problems!"
She saw one of her men raise his hand and knew it was time to go
to work, broke the connection, and hurried over.
"Sacramento," the sergeant remarked. "I don't like
the velocity at which he descended, and he was awful solid. I
think you better send out an alert ma'am!"
The Major quickly started punching numbers again. California had
been taking a beating for the last few weeks. Somebody out that
way was in trouble, a lot of trouble!
THE END