Thirty One: A Stones Throw

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1942

The night brings kisses of starlight upon a black vacant canvas. The darkness blankets the lands as if it were a bedtime story told to children. Soft hymns of the wilderness creak and not even the wind blows here deep in the woods of America.

A campsite sits hidden, dark, and quiet - just off of New York.

Tents blackened olive are pitched around the area. Dormant vehicles parked around the site are lined up with equipment - all baring a red octopus with a skull. A soldier in uniform patrols the line of cars, his eyes focusing on the little sounds. Alert for any sign of danger in this foreign land.

Inside one of the tents is a young man sitting on a foldaway chair in front of several large monitors. The boxes are large and chunky with dials and an assortment of buttons. He sits in front of the centre of the table staring at the radar.

Blank.

Nothing is happening.

He blinks slowly. So he adjusts the dial. Still nothing. The young soldier sits back huffing loudly. He puts his chin in his palm and blinks away from the monitor. His chest heaved again. "What am I even doing here?" he questioned himself. Muttering under his breath in his mother tongue, he adjusted the readings again. The time - quarter to ten at night.

The soldier looked around. It was just him in the tent.

Beep.

He looked back. There was a dot on his screen. He turned his body around and tucked his chair closer. He watched as the dial spins around the screen, he watched it as it passed over the dot on his screen appearing from nothing.

Beep.

He sits upright, both hands on the monitor and he adjusted the dials again. Beep. The blip was growing larger. The soldier jumps up and rushes out of the tent. His eyes are focused on the sky above. He turns on his heel looking for something.

Beep.

Then he realised. "It's happening again." He turned on his heel to face the tent. It alerted him again. This time for longer. Then the second monitor started to scream in loud stuttered wails as it printed out a long receipt that looked like shock readings.

The beeping started to become more frequent. The soldier rushed to the pitch of his tent and he turned a lever. An alarm began to sound as he cranked the lever around and around. The camp site flashlights turned on and the voices of men shouting rang out in alarm in the dead of night.

There are soldiers now running in all directions rushing to dress themselves and grab their gear. There is now a slight breeze starting to pick up.

The young soldier see's his superior officer marching towards him very quickly with a squadron of commanding chiefs. He quickly sits in his chair to process the readings. "Zir, it's happening again!" he spat out, his accent thick.

His superior leaned over his shoulder with tight lips and large eyes. "Vat is happening?" he asked, loudly. His hearing affected by gunshots.

"The strange reading in ze sky." replied the soldier. "Something else is coming through again."

The officer straightened himself. "Then ve will capture whatever comes out of that beam!" he announced. He spins around to his officers. "Inform the Commander. Alert the squadrons, ve are moving out immediately!" he pointed a finger to the sky.

The officers turned on their heels barking orders and they split into the camp. The superior officer turns to a telegram and starts to punch in a calculated rhythm. The young soldier dials a telephone and starts shouting into the receiver.

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