Star Gift

Chapter Ten

Michael walked toward the back of the room and signaled to Blake to bring his tools to open the larger crates. This Blake did and when the first wooden lid was pried off, the four looked down into the dark container. There was a pile of narrow metallic pieces which were thicker and longer than the foil sheet they had seen earlier. As Michael reached in and took one of the broken sections out of the crate and held it up to the light, he tied to flex it but with all his strength he could not.

"You see the slight arc to this and the other pieces," he asked, pointing out the curved shape of the object. These are obliterated sections of the craft's framework. The interior structural ribbing."

"You mean from the . . ." Russel asked.

"Yeah, the alien ship," he clarified.

"Jesus,"  Blake could be heard saying under his breath."

"Nothing we have in the way of metal is this light and this strong," Michael shared. "And yet, from the high velocity impact with the desert surface the vehicle was destroyed, as were the beings inside it."

All were silent as he carefully put the object back.

"These craft over the years have been clocked at four to six thousand miles an hour on radar and with immediate acceleration and directional change up to eight thousand," Michael continued. He looked inside and asked Blake for the flashlight.

"Hmm. Thought so," he said pulling another cross beam out. "You see these peculiar markings on the edge of the metal here?" He shone the light directly on the flat side of the narrow piece, about the double length of ruler. There were clearly unusual symbols embossed onto the surface as if they were spelling out a name or phrase. The symbols were indecipherable.

Blake reached out curiously to touch the piece.

"Either of you two college boys checked out in cryptology?" Dan asked, smiling.

"If you can, you've got a great job at the Pentagon," Michael laughed.

Russel was not smiling. "So . . . you mean it's never been . . ."

"Nope," Michael answered. "And yet these symbols are consistent with others I've seen embossed on the Roswell debris and a few pieces at the San Antonio crash."

"Roswell?  The actual . . ."

"Yeah. Classified photos of the stuff. And that's definitely the symbology. I've slaved myself over a few of those symbols. It's also consistent with the ancient Minoan disc with spiral lettering predating Geek . . . Linear A, they've called it. And never have cracked it."

"Holy shit," Blake whispered."

"Those same symbols also show up on other anomalous artifacts in Mesoamerican temples and on the walls of a few caves in China."

"Jesus!  But, how did you get pictures of Roswell," Russel asked. "And how did you know all this?"

"I told you guys . . . I'm at Yale, right?"

"Yeah," Blake said, still perplexed.

"Yale's a pretty special place, guys. And I'm not just talking Ivy League stuff. That's all I can really say. You do know it's the foremost breeding ground for our governments' intelligence community, right?"

"Yeah, come on, Blake," Russel butt in. "CIA, FBI . . . all those spooky cats come out of Yale. There's a culture for it. Plus . . . they've got the Skull and Bones guys learning to run the world from there . . . right Michael?"