David Golemon - Event

"Controlled violence? I guess I finally understand what you were getting at after all," Lee said. "It seems I just now realized I am capable of it."

He gestured for the FBI agents to assist Hendrix, but knew the old man had only moments more to live.

"Let's go home, Jack."

On a desolate piece of land once worked by a rancher named Mac Brazel, Senator Garrison Lee felt he had come home. He stood leaning on Collins and had an arm around Alice Hamilton, who raised her sunglasses and wiped a tear from her eye. As Lee watched, Niles Compton was leading the actions of the forensics team, who were removing the first casualties of the invasion from another world.

"I hoped not to get too emotional over this," Lee said as a light, cooling breeze sprang up.

"Old man, it's all over now. You owe those men your emotions, they deserve anything we can give them, the least of which is the memory we have of their friendship," Alice said as she used her handkerchief.

"You did the right thing, exchanging this for letting Farbeaux out of the country," Jack said.

Senator Garrison Lee lowered his head, and finally a tear was shed as he watched Niles and his team bring the last body out of the ground where they had been buried and hidden close to sixty years before. Dr. Kenneth Early's body was the last to be identified and the last of the skeletal remains to see the bright sunlight. Lee watched and stood straighter as his old friend was quickly covered by an American flag that caught the light breeze and rose slightly, then settled over the last member of the Event Group to finally be thanked for his duty to the country.

Two days later, after the quiet arrests and the return of their long-lost heroes, a loud cheer erupted in the Computer Center of the Event Group complex. The large back-projected viewing screen came alive for the first time in days.

The space shuttle Atlantis had successfully refueled the KH-11 satellite 41672, otherwise known as Boris and Natasha, from their own fuel stores, saving the flamboyant KH-11 from a fiery death. The shuttle crew had also had her solar batteries replaced and a new charger put in. When the old girl was turned back on, the picture was still locked on that small Arizona valley, cleared of all debris of the crashed saucers. As the applause died down, a tune could be heard coming from the speakers set behind the main viewing screen, courtesy of the shuttle Atlantis. Frank Sinatra was singing "Fly Me to the Moon."

As Collins, Niles, Alice, and the senator watched, the picture became clearer as it zoomed in on the valley floor. They were amazed at the clarity as Boris and Natasha centered her picture exactly where it had been prior to the satellite's supposed demise.

"We have something," one of the computer techs called out.

As they watched, the valley and its occupants came into the camera's view. "Go to maximum magnification on my count," Niles called out. "Three, two, one, now, max-mag on-site."

They all smiled as the images became crystal clear. Jason Ryan, on a thirty-day leave from the Event Group, held hands with Julie Dawes, and she in turn was pointing a finger at Billy, partially hidden under a large beach umbrella, who looked to be teasing them. Then Gus stepped into the picture, pointing at a large hole in the ground and gesturing wildly around the rocks. He was holding something out to the others, and you could tell he was smiling and happy as he danced an old-time jig. Then he clapped his hands together and the gold dust shimmered in the sunlight and fell to the ground as the old prospector kept dancing.

Another beach umbrella was next to the one Billy was under. This was brightly colored in a pattern resembling a galaxy of stars, and a large pair of cowboy boots were sticking out from under it, both gifts of the Event Group. As the wearer of the overlarge boots leaned forward and caught some of the gold particles before they hit the ground, the assembled Event staff saw it. The hand that was reaching out was green and protruded from a long-sleeved white shirt that was obviously overlarge. Then the small figure moved from beneath the beach umbrella and the arms reached around the old man's legs and hugged him. The full view of the body was hidden beneath a giant white cowboy hat, but they could tell it had cutoff Levi's shorts on.

They couldn't help it, they all laughed as Mahjtic stumbled in the oversize cowboy boots he was wearing and caught himself on Gus's trousers. Then for no apparent reason and to the complete surprise of all the people at the Event Complex, Matchstick looked skyward.

"I suggest you leave them be for a while before fully debriefing Mahjtic and questioning him about the Grays and when he expects them to come visiting again. I suspect Hendrix was right, next time they will come themselves, and my guess is we'll be fending off a full invasion," Lee said.

The others looked at Lee and said nothing. They all knew the Grays wouldn't stop at sending an animal; they would eventually take care of Earth the hard way.

"So, we're sure at this point the Gray that Gus and Matchstick killed was the lone survivor of its vehicle?" Jack asked.

"As a matter of fact, while you were recuperating, the army found the remains of the second and third crewmen of the hostile ship. They had ejected over the desert in the moments leading to the crash. I'm afraid they ran into the animal life indigenous to this planet and found them much smaller than the Talkhan, but just as unforgiving," Niles said.

Virginia Pollock entered the Computer Center and nodded at her colleagues. She carried a file and handed it to Niles.

"The autopsy report?" he asked.

"Yes."

"This time we hung on to the bodies long enough to finally complete our files from Roswell. The other intelligence services threw a fit, but the president stalled until we got our answers. He said the government owed Dr. Early and his team at least that much," Niles said sadly.

Garrison Lee lowered his head as he spared a thought for his long-lost men.

"Anyway, if we knew at the beginning what we were up against, a lot of boys would be alive right now," Niles said. "Virginia..." He gestured that she should explain.

"First, the results of the animal, or Talkhan, won't be available for many years. I suspect our friend Matchstick, who knows the animal better than anyone, will be able to shed some light on its planet of origin and biological makeup. Second, the three Grays that were recovered: the two in the desert, what was left of them anyway, and the being that was dispatched by Mr. Tilly." Virginia looked from one person to the other. "They were dying. It will take years to figure out the toxicology, but it looks as if they were a victim of their environment. Their world must be in the final stages of a massive breakdown of their ozone layer. Not only that, their bodies were so full of toxins from their natural environment that we can only conclude that, besides the two different forms of skin cancer they displayed, and also the cancerous nature of their reproductive systems, they have mere generations left to them."

"So, that means they will not delay in moving on Earth."

"We notified the president. This time I think we'll let someone else do the fighting. We lost a lot of good friends this time around.

"There is one more thing," Virginia said.

Niles was puzzled. "Yes?"

"You're not going to like it, I know I didn't," she said, looking at her feet. "We did the blood workup on Matchstick." She frowned and couldn't look anyone in the eyes. "He has the start of the same symptoms, but I think we can help him. You see, Matchstick is very young in his years, he'll fight this off, but the rest of his race, if they stay in their current environmental conditions, they'll die."