USS Constant April 18, 1961
April 18, 1961 Captain’s Log:
The USS Constant was growing cold, the air thin, and the morale scarce. We sent our best six fighter planes into the gray fog and haven’t heard a lick from them since. They went into the expanding phenomenon to promote first contact. It was my way of getting the fight started.
Although we were on a mighty ocean we might have had a better chance if this was a terrain attack. Retreating or calling in reinforcements would have been much easier. Germany and France had promised to send their Flagships over two days ago, but they have not arrived. And we lost all communications with command.
In other words, we are on our own.
We were all biting our nails as we waited impatiently for something to happen. Anything. I watched my second in command as he unfolded his body from his command chair and moaned as he did. He glanced around and could almost see the entire crew shaking in their government issued boots. He patted a very young helmsman on the shoulder and then dropped back down into his chair, staring at the gray fog, thinking about what was coming.
The aliens had not attacked yet. Our fighter planes had not made contact. And all our hopes remain hanging beneath the gray fog. The waiting is making us stronger, mentally if that’s possible.
The next installment:
© 2011 Frank Atanacio