Act One

"State your name for the record."

The Naval officer looks at Cal in confusion for a moment. He sits with his cover on his knee, his back straight, his dark hair is cut short in the favoured military style. On his sleeves are the golden hoops that denote his rank and on his chest are the medals celebrating his service.

"I've always wanted to say that," Cal gives him a grin. Beside him at the table, Gillian shifts slightly. They're in one of the interrogation rooms. The door is closed for privacy but there is no one on the other side of the glass analysing footage. Loker is standing there anyway, a pencil pressed to his lips, listening.

Inside the interrogation room the naval officer shifts slightly in his seat while Cal watches on impassively. "Lieutenant Commander Randall Edison."

"Oop, now that's not true," Cal points a finger at him and circles it. "Try again."

"What do you need my name for sir?"

"Tell me your hair colour then," Cal suggests.

"You can see my hair colour sir."

Cal looks at Gillian.

"For Doctor Lightman to believe what you have to say about the UFO crash, he has to be able to establish a baseline," Gillian explains calmly. "In other words, he needs to see you when you tell the truth and when you lie so he can make a comparison."

"Go on then," Cal prompts. "Tell me you're a blonde."

"I have blonde hair," the Commander responds in a dry tone.

Cal gives Gillian a raised eyebrow. "I wonder if the curtains match the carpet."

"Cal!" Gillian gives him a sharp but quiet reprimand.

"Nah all right," Cal lounges on the table top. "What's your rank?"

Edison looks at Gillian. She gives a slight nod. "I'm a Lieutenant Commander."

"Yes you are," Cal gives a nod of confirmation. "I can tell by the hoops." He studied the officer's medal rack. "You served in Iraq?"

The navy man shifts in his seat and his chest puffs out a little in pride. "Yes sir."

"I was in Bosnia."

"My father served in Bosnia."

"Aw now that's nice," Cal almost coos. "Let me guess, third generation navy man?"

"Yes sir," more pride.

"Tell me bout this UFO then," Cal slouches back in his chair as he waves a hand in dismissal. Gillian has been taking notes and even she pauses to look up and wait for the Commander to answer.

"The site they're reporting on the news, I drive by there every day on my way to Norfolk," he leans forward earnestly on the table top. "There's no meteor crater."

"Sure there is," Cal interrupts. "There's a giant bloody hole in the ground in the middle of Mason Neck Park."

The Commander shakes his head. "No. That's not a meteor crash. It's just a front."

"A front for an unidentified flying object?" Gillian cuts in.

"Exactly," Edison nods.

"You saw it?" She asks next.

"No, but, I know a meteor hole when I see one."

"Expert are we?"

"Well read."

"What department are you with?" Gillian asks. His uniform bears no marks to indicate, no symbol for doctor, lawyer or clerical.

Lightman's office. Day.

"If his story is true, then there's definitely a cover up of some sorts going on. I thought that kind of thing would be right up your alley," Gillian expounds as they walk towards his desk.

Cal throws himself back in his chair and looks up at her. "I can't believe you bought his UFO crap. He has no idea what crashed in that field."

"Yes but what he is sure about is the false time, the false location, the falsified documentation..."

"Oh come on," Cal interrupts. "You believe in little green men don't you? You're a Mulder type! I never would have picked that!"

Gillian gives him a little huff and sticks out her hip to rest her hand on. "Governmental cover ups? Why aren't you jumping all over this?"

Cal stares up at her. He gets up suddenly. "All right darling. We can go check out the alleged encounter site. So long as you don't harp on about crop circles in the car."

"You know," Gillian notes conversationally as she follows him back across his office. "Not all crop circles are physically or geometrically possible. Some of them can't..."

"I said no crop circles!" Cal complains loudly as he exits his office doorway.

"We're not in the car yet," Gillian points out.

Lightman's car. Mason Neck Point State Park.

"You promised no talk about aliens," Cal complains.

"No, what I promised was to not talk about crop circles," Gillian counters happily from the passenger seat. "It's arrogant to think that in the vastness of the universe that we could be the only intelligent life."

"And I'm not denying that," Cal argues back. "I just think if we can't fly ourselves further than the moon, what makes you think any other being out there is smart enough to do the same?"

Gillian is saved from having to answer as they pull past a media circus and yellow tape hanging between pine trees and drifts of dirtied snow. "Who knew a meteor was such big news," Gillian notes softly as they quietly slide by.

"Maybe they're there to try and interview the crash victim," Cal answers snidely as he takes the car further around. Gillian turns her head to stare at him and he steadfastly ignores her. They splash through muddy slush puddles until a little clearing on the side opens up on the right and Cal pulls into it.

"I didn't wear the right shoes for this," Gillian notes as she steps out into ankle deep snow. She wraps her scarf quickly around her neck as Cal stomps around to her side of the car. It's still and quiet and just a little bit eerie. "We're not on private property are we?" Gillian is worried.

"Does it matter if we are?"

"I guess not," Gillian supposes pulling her gloves on. "We're not going to do anything but have a look."

"Shall we?" Cal suggests starting to move is way around her.

"Sure," Gillian agrees.

"But no poaching or loading up the car with illegal firewood all right?" Cal shoots over his shoulder as he takes off. They pick their way through the snow to the edge of the trees, the disturbance of their footprints only visible to those who would take the time to look. Their journey would remain until the next blanket of snow came along to reset the world again, in the chance that the first round would be forgotten by an even better sequel. No one else could mess with the path they have made without drawing far more attention to it; not even the two of them could go back and make changes without making a bigger mess. All they could do now was just keep going, keep on moving forward. Cal strides easily up the slight incline, his hands shoved deep within his pockets.

Gillian is several meters behind and breathing heavily as she catches up. In the meantime, Cal surveys the scene around him, bouncing slightly on the spot. There are severe wet patches on his jeans half way up his calves. Across the way he can see the yellow tape again. He looks over his shoulder to see Gillian, arms outstretched for balance, placing her feet carefully in his footsteps. Behind her he can see the exact point where their paths have converged into one. Gillian looks up at him and gives a wan smile. "Not as fit as I used to be," she notes wryly, as she goes back to focussing on breathing and the length of Cal's gait. "With my reduced lung capacity," she adds taking another purposeful step. Cal continues to watch her sadly for a moment. She's wearing her favourite red coat and her cheeks are pink, along with the tip of her nose. Her hair is pulled back into a short ponytail. The combination of the stark white snow and bright red of her coat make her eyes seem bluer. Cal realises he's staring too hard.

As she gets closer he steps back and offers her his hand. The incline is not so steep that she runs the risk of falling, nor does she need his extra strength to get lost last few feet. But she reaches out for him anyway and he pulls her gently to stand next to him. "Well that is definitely not a meteor crash site," Cal notes as he surveys the scene in front of him again.

Gillian comes up beside him. Her breath harsher in the still air. "No it's not," she agrees, her eyes slightly widened in surprise.

"That's no crash site for anything," Cal turns to her. Gillian swallows before she starts to suck air heavily again and gives a nod.

Lightman Group. Day. Lab.

Cal, Gillian and Loker stand in the lab staring up at the large screen. They show different expressions. Loker is frowning. Cal is bored. Gillian looks interested.

"I mean, it could be a meteor site," Loker notes.

"Maybe if you squint a little," Cal answers immediately, his expression not changing.

"Anything small enough to make such a shallow impression would have burnt up entering the atmosphere," Gillian notes. Cal turns to his left to look at her. She gives him a slight shrug. "I'm not allowed to know about meteors?"

"That was no bloody meteor," Cal responds. "I could have gone into my back yard and dug a hole like that."

"Maybe not with the same diameter," Loker muses.

Cal turns to his right give him a glare. Loker moves off to his desk, but not before glancing down at their matching pair of sodden trousers. Cal and Gillian go back to staring up at the image. What is displayed is a low dip in a clearing of trees. All around his covered in the whiteness of frozen water, aside from an area in the bottom of the dip roughly the square footage of a modest home. The black earth is exposed, peeled back, but not in any neat order. There's no evidence of a crater or specific point of impact. In fact, it looks like the earth has merely been thrown around haphazardly.

"If someone dug it on purpose," Loker speaks again. "Where are the tractor tracks?"

"If I was digging out my yard, you think I would get a bulldozer in there? Or used a spade?" Cal shoots at Loker.

"So someone found a clearing, took their spade, and dug out a shallow hole to make it look like a meteor has crashed?" Loker surmises.

"They did a bad job of making it look like a meteor crash."

"Don't you dare suggest to me a craft of any sort crashed or landed there," Cal raises a finger to absently point at Gillian.

"What I was going to say," Gillian sounds unimpressed. "Is that I'm freezing and I'm going to change."

"All right," Cal is immediately softer.

"And we need to talk to the Lieutenant Commander again," Gillian adds. "But this time, we need to ask a very different set of questions."

Cube.

"All right I'm interested," Cal slams the cube door closed and pulls out his chair. In the seat opposite, Edison straightens his shoulders back.

"Did you go out to the site sir?"

"I did," Cal confirms as he slouches down. The glass walls of the Cube are fogged out but that doesn't seem to bother the Commander. Gillian and Loker sit at the computer station outside and watch the feed. "That's no UFO crash site. In fact, that's not a crash site for anything," Cal whips a photo out of the folder in his hands and skims it over the desk to the navy man so he can see. A brief surprise expression crosses his features. "And by the way. Why aren't you at work?"

The navy man shifts in his seat again while Cal watches him intently. "You gone AWOL?" Cal asks as though the man is a delicate flower.

Lieutenant Commander Randall Edison looks up at Cal, square in the eyes. In an even tone of voice he asks: "Have you ever heard of weather control Doctor Lightman?"