Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

28 ∞ something old, something new

Day Seven ∞ Thursday

"LET ME HEAR YOUR UPDATE, Dunn," Colonel Walters said tiredly, even though he already knew what the report said. It was the third day, and he'd hardly slept a wink since he arrived at Maxwell Air Force Base, although a cot had been set up for him in the back of his makeshift office inside the secured hangar. The makeshift office he had to share with the silent, ever-present Agent Barrett. He was thankful he didn't have to share it with Barrett at night as well. "With your experience in repairing subs, what do you make of this thing?"

"Sir, I'm not usually tasked with—"

"Yes, we all know that. Just give me your thoughts on yesterday."

"Well, sir," Dunn put his clipboard aside, "it wore down our specialized sacrificial and tungsten rotary blades without scratching the surface, so we did a Rockwell test and—"

Walters cocked his eyebrow in query.

"That's to measure surface hardness. Though... well... according to the reading, we should have been able to make progress into the hull with those cutting wheels. We tried diamond and CBN blades next. These are some of the hardest cutting implements available, yet," Dunn shook his head, "it manages to eat off the crystal layer. You think the dust is coming off the hull, but when you wipe the blade, it's diamond and boron nitride dust. The only effects observed on the hull... a change of color radiating from the point of contact... and an apparent... inward-outward movement..."

He paused in thought. "It's difficult to explain. But this thing is extremely good at dissipating the heat caused by friction. When the second team utilized heat cutting equipment, we used acetylene obviously, then hydrogen. We even tried the new electric plasma cutter, but... the heat from those were just as effectively dissipated, maybe by electromagnetic means or... We don't know. It's even possible to place your bare hand on the surface immediately after holding the heat was on it for thirty minutes without getting burnt. And we're talking about temperatures upwards of 6,000 and 40,000 degrees here."

Walters whistled and considered that for a moment. "And still no dent?"

"No, sir. Well... That is... While the heat was on it, there seemed to be a reverse reaction from the object."

"What?" Walters hadn't read that in the preliminary report. "'Reverse reaction'?"

Dunn hesitated. "I–I mean, sir, that the effect of applying the heat was the opposite to what was expected."

Walters stared at him. "Meaning?"

"The pressure and heat are supposed to make a dent at the very least... But instead, every time it seems to bulge and get thicker in the affected area." He paused to allow the words to sink in, before continuing. "I.E., it's responding by adding extra layers of protection to the area while under attack."

Walters rose as he stared at the vessel through a section of plastic sheeting that served as office window. "And what do you make of that?"

"I don't know, sir. Except that it's alien and responds as if it's at least partially organic. If I didn't know better, I might even be inclined to say that it's... breathing. But... that's not my area of expertise." The sergeant fell silent and waited.

Eventually Walters said, "Thank you," without looking at him as he left the office. Walters remained standing as he reflected on the preliminary findings of the samples taken on the first day. He'd received the report earlier, and it was all "negative": there was no evidence of alien microorganisms, viruses or viroids embedded in the surface of the vessel.

He sighed and turned to Barrett who was standing in his usual spot at one end of the office, watching the activity around the cocoon with his hands crossed behind his back. "What do you make of this thing?" he asked.