“Here is your hole for the next six weeks,” barked the tall beast of a man with the nameplate Lucie.
“When will I get my key card?” Lucie glowered down at the young man. The young man had recently just graduated from Harvard at the top of his class with honors in every class since pre-k. Lucie, on the other hand, had never been so good in at studying in school of the few times he actually made it to school but hadn’t mattered to him because he has had years of experience in his job. Since he was a young child he would sneak out to his father’s workshop early in the morning to avoid detention and help his father test alien technology he found around the countryside: to him, experience trumps intellect any day.
“You didn’t receive it in with your supplies,” Lucie growled. The young man shook his head. Lucie rolled his eyes in annoyance at the failure of the housing department. The people in that department got paid heftily for the secrecy of their job and did their job very well, except for Lucie is; indeed, it seemed to Lucie that they seem to be out for him since he bested the head manager at poker just a week earlier. “Go tell the housing department yourself. I have work to do.” The young man shrugged and walked back to the housing department. It seemed patent to him that Lucie is not a fan of him.
“Back so soon?” The young man smiled at the older woman sitting behind the counter.
“Yes. It would seem that I didn’t receive my key card yet.”
“Name, please?”
“Dean. Dean Silver.”
“Ok. Here is your card.”
“Thank you.”
“Straight back to your room now, please.” Dean nodded as he placed his key card in his lanyard around his neck. He is quick to understand that everything in Area 51 is done quickly and effectively. On his way back to his room, he is startled by a loud alarm booming from next to him along the walls of the hallway.
“What the. . .” Before he could even finish his sentence a troop of guards headed by a group of five scientists ran into him.
“Hurry up newbie. This is a level zero emergency,” one of the scientists yelled over the blaring alarm helping Dean up. Dean nodded and quickly stood up to match the pace of the important looking scientists. Dean quickly realized that the scientists seemed to have their own agenda in this type of emergency as they turned in the opposite direction of where Dean knew the exit to be.
“Where are we going!?” Dean shouted, turning to the scientist that helped him up.
“The command center! There’s a sticky note with a number we're supposed to call in these emergencies!”
“Shouldn’t I go the other way with everybody else?”
“You're alright! You may be needed if the rest of us don’t make it there!”
“What!”
“Helix room has been compromised! Repeat, Helix room has been compromised!” Even the computerized voice from the ceiling sounded a bit strained and panicked to Dean: nothing looked promising to Dean. His confidence is lowered even more when he looked around at the others to see them frown and shake a bit as they transitioned from a march to a run. Dean immerses himself deep in thought as he uses his photographic memory to bring to mind all the winding directions he took since he left the housing room to place it on the map of the facility that he glanced at this morning when he first entered. He became so drawn to his thoughts, figuring out which way to run that it took the lights exploding behind him to realize that he was running alone. Dean turned around slightly to see at least sixty pairs of eyes in the darkness of the lights exploding. Dean snapped his head back forward as he picked up speed seeing the command room just fifty feet ahead. Dean in his head slowly counted down every ten feet, thanking his prejudice uncle for pressuring him to join his school’s track team every year since he entered high school. Eight years of track had prepared him well for his mad dash to the well-secured command room with the who-knows-what monsters hot on his trails.
Bam!
Dean slides into the command room, throwing his flashlight at the emergency close button on the wall outside of the room next to the door. A strand of his hair fluttered in the wind caused by the four doors of protection for the room slamming shut centimeters away from his head.
Bam! Screech! Bam!
The bright yellow sticky note with a number scribbled on it stuck out like a sore thumb in the dark room. Dean pushed himself off of the floor towards the sticky note and dusty ancient phone it was stuck to. There was a short pause as Dean analyzed the phone. The rotary dial phone looked to be largely unused with a thick layer of dust over it. Also, it’s material Dean realized touching it dial the number on the sticky note is made of chromium, the hardest metal in the world.
“Hello, Area 51 is compromised and this is a level zero.” Of all the voices in the world, Dean was not expecting to hear one he recognized. In fact, more than recognizing the voice, it is the voice of a person pining for him so much that he hears it every morning at 9 am on the dot who he asks for a frappuccino for the past four years at the local café that Dean has worked at during his college years.
“Dean? From Cafe Le Francis?”
“Marco. I’m sorry I must have dialed the wrong number I’ll just. . .”
“Wait no! If you’re in Area 51 then this is the right number.” Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and looks at the phone with his face scrunched up.
“Really?”
“Yea. I gave them my number a while back to call if anything happened. I, um, almost forgot about giving it to them too.” Dean accidentally dropped the sticky note and reaches down to pick it up, noticing a small piece of paper on the back. Dean turned it towards the red lamp on the wall next to him to see that there was writing on the back of the sticky note. “So you said that there’s a level 0 over there right?”
“Oh, ah yeah.” Dean pulled the sticky note closer to his eyes to read the note.465Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOSmkM5H4AZ
465Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhlZtYNmjs0
Received from Marco Black to Agent Cody Realms in command of Area 51 for the price to which Mr. Black sets should a level 0 ever happen. 19th April 1856.
“Hey, Marco are you named after someone in your family?” Marco chuckled.
“If you wanted to know more about me, you should have just said so and to answer no Dean I’m not. So my best knowledge I’m the only person in my family with my name.” Marco then chuckled again as Dean swallowed tightly.
“Oh well hey, how ago did you leave your number there.” Marco sighed.
“I don’t actually remember. It was a while ago back when some guy Cody Rezno, Riley. . .”
"Realms, Cody Realms.”
“Yea back when he ruled the place. Why are you jealous?”
“Um no, it’s just that. . .”
“Cat got your tongue?” Dean sighed before collecting his thoughts to speak up again.
“Marco just what are you then because Cody Realms made this place and hasn’t been in charge for over two hundred years, so you are lying,” Dean sighed and slowed down, “right?”
“Oh.” Another moment of pause. “I didn’t realize so much time has passed already. I hope me being older doesn’t bother you too much.”
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