Scully: I have never met anyone so passionate and dedicated to a belief as you. It's so intense that sometimes it's blinding.


Researchers


3

What Lance hadn't thought about what that if they were to leave on a seven o'clock flight, that meant they would have to show up to the airport at least a couple of hours early. When he met his partner at the terminal, Kogane was clean, awake, and presentable. Lance, who was not even sure he had packed any full set of clothes in his hasty preparations for the trip, held up one finger and opened his mouth, about to speak, before placing his bag on the ground in front of his partner, turning, and walking away. He was sure this would look strange to Keith, but all was explained when he returned a few moments later with a very large cup of coffee from the airport Starbucks. Kogane smirked, and Lance just picked up his bag and kept walking toward the waiting area, grumbling a "morning" as he slumped by.

A few hours later they were soaring across the country toward New Mexico and Lance, no longer feeling he needed to put on a cool front of confidence for his partner—at least not at a repeating seven A.M. as they traversed time zones—snored across the country. Keith simply readjusted his position in the seat, between his partner, whose face was smeared against the window, and an elderly man who had paid for the noise-cancelling headphones back in the terminal so he could watch Beverly Hills Cop 2 in peaceful silence. That was all fine for Keith, who simply opened the case file again, searching through the same information he had practically memorized over the previous few days.

By the time they began their descent—and Keith would not admit this, but—he was nodding off to sleep, as well. He was brought back from his half-slumber by Lance, who had the habit of stretching when he woke.

An hour later, they were in a rented car on their way to Karin, New Mexico, a small town where the meteorites had been found. Lance had the case file in his lap in the passenger seat, going over the details anew.

"So," he said, "we're going to meet the guy who sent you the pictures."

"The guy who sent me the close-ups, yeah." Keith's hands flexed around the steering wheel, and he kept his eyes on the road ahead.

"You know him?" Lance noted with interest that there was no name listed along with the picture, nothing that would identify the photographer except the location and a thirty-minute timeframe of how long after the shower the picture was taken (seven hours, forty minutes to eight hours, ten minutes).

"I do," said Kogane, keeping his eyes ahead still. There was a pause, and Lance spoke up.

"Would you like to share?"

"Not really," said Keith. Lance scrunched his eyebrows together, but before he could complain further, Keith sighed. "His name is Takashi Shirogane."

Lance's eyes widened and his draw dropped. "You—what?"

"I take it you've heard of him." Keith didn't sound surprised.

"I'm an astrophysicist!" Lance threw his hands in the air, almost scattering the file as he did so. "How could I not know about Shirogane?" He turned to Keith. "That's why you waited until now to tell me who we were meeting."

Keith shrugged.

"God damn it," said Lance, dropping his hands into his lap. "You ask me to keep an open mind, but you're basing your investigation on what he says he's found?"

"He knows what he's talking about."

"Do you?" Lance placed a hand on his forehead and shook his head. "There's a reason they sent him home from NASA so quickly. There's a reason the Kerberos program is shut down." Lance glanced to Keith, whose knuckles were white as eh gripped the steering wheel, facing ahead as he continued to drive, his jaw set.

After a moment, he spoke. "Why do you think they were shut down?" His words were slow, careful.

"Because Shirogane is crazy!"

"No," said Keith quickly. "Because Shirogane is right."

4

The house was a glorified shack, and it was in the middle of nowhere, but a little bit more out of the way. The peeling paint and stagnant windmill gave the impression of a drought-stricken abandoned farm, but the blacked-out windows painted a different picture. They stood on the creaky wooden porch, and Keith knocked. They stood and waited for a moment. Lance could hear someone inside of the home moving to the door, probably looking through the peephole in the door. After another moment longer, the deadbolts on the other side of the door began to turn.

The door opened, and a tall, muscular man with a white streak in his bangs stood on the other side, stone-faced. "You said you would come alone."

Lance raised an eyebrow, and Keith glanced at him sideways. "This is my new partner," said Keith. "Special Agent Lance McClain. He will not be a problem." The way Keith said this, Lance felt that was directed more toward him than toward Shirogane. "We'll leave your name and any identifying information out of our reports." Lance's eyes widened and he looked to Kogane, brows almost touching his wide eyes, but Keith looked only at Shirogane, ignoring whatever looks his partner was giving him.

Shirogane narrowed his eyes and looked both of the men over one more time before stepping back and gesturing for them to come inside. The agents entered, and Lance was surprised.

He had expected this place to be reminiscent of Kogane's office, full of clutter and strung-together paranoid theories. But this was a normal house for a normal person, or at least it seemed so. They followed Shirogane into the kitchen, where they sat at the counter on stools. They waited for a moment while their host left the room to re-lock the front door before rejoining them again.

"So, Lance," said Keith, "This is Takashi Shirogane."

"I'm glad to meet you," said Lance, holding out his hand to shake the man's. Shirogane held up his own hand, which was not a hand at all, but a prosthetic. Lance hesitated, and then took and shook it, considering that though it was awkward, it would be more awkward if he didn't take it when offered.

"So," said Kogane, "you know why we're here. We need to know more about the meteorites."

Takashi stiffened, and Lance felt uncomfortable in his position. Whatever Shirogane was about to tell them, he wouldn't be able to relay with any good conscience in his report. And without being able to make any identifying notes about him, there would be no way for him to communicate his reasons for believing Shirogane to be an unreliable source of information.

"You received the picture I sent. And I have more pictures, but I think—it would probably be best if you saw the pieces in person."

"You are sure you know these…" Lance searched for the word, and settled on the same on Shirogane had used. "…pieces are the result of the meteor shower, and didn't just happen to be in the same area, a dumping some of old VCRs or something after a rowdy bonfire or something?"

Shirogane lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms, his prosthetic on top of his other arm. "A skeptic, huh?" He exhaled, and turned to Keith. "You know he might make it easier for you to legitimize this kind of investigation."

"It might also make it harder to investigate," said Keith, glaring at Lance like he'd made him look a fool in front of the popular kids at recess.

"But I can verify within a very small margin of error that the remnants I found came from the meteor shower," said Shirogane, turning back from the counter behind him and retrieving a file from it. He opened it up and slid it across the counter to Keith and Lance. They leaned in to get a better look at it as Shirogane continued to speak. "By tracking the shower and using some triangulation techniques, along with some readings from a device a friend of mine constructed for this very purpose, we were able to determine that these were the meteorites we saw in the sky. There were no other remnants around the estimated point of impact that could have been from foreign objects."

Lance glanced up at Takashi from his admittedly well-documented notes of the shower. As much as he didn't want to admit it, and as much as he didn't want to trust Shirogane or his friend's homemade astronomical equipment, the numbers checked out. "Okay," he said. "So these really are the meteorites. How do we know they're anything more than conveniently shaped rocks for anyone with a claim of abduction?"

Shirogane winced, and Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance. "What?" he said, and Keith rolled his eyes.

"I think what my thick-headed partner is trying to say is that we would really like to see the meteorites for ourselves, and have the opportunity to investigate firsthand."

Lance was about to chime in to protest his label of "thick-headed," but Keith kicked him in the shin before he could. Lance clamped his mouth shut and glared at his partner.

"Well, I figure I could have my friends bring us all out there; explain the readings…" Shirogane trailed off.

"I think that would be best," said Keith. "If we get a close-up look at the things, it'll put us one step closer to figuring out where they came from."

Lance choked back a comment about the legitimacy of the alleged extraterrestrial artifacts and just nodded. Whatever they were trying to pass off as space debris would be easier to delegitimize if he saw it in person.

"How far out is it to the site?" asked Keith, standing from his stool. Lance and Takashi stood, as well, Shirogane pushing his stool in as he did.

"Only about fifteen minutes," said Shirogane, taking some keys from a bowl on the counter. "If you would like to follow me in your car, I can call my friends—they constructed the equipment, and can explain the mathematics a whole lot better than I can—and have them meet us there."

"Please do," said Kogane. "And know our offer of confidentiality extends to them, as well, as long as they can prove to be strong enough contributors to this investigation."

"Thank you," said Shirogane, reaching for his phone in a cradle by the refrigerator, and Keith motioned to Lance for him to lead the way out of the home, which he did, pausing to unlock the series of deadbolts before gaining access to the other side.

5

"Well," said Kogane once they were in the car and following Shirogane's truck down a dusty desert road. "You did an excellent job of being a perfect jackass back there."

Lance scoffed. "Me?" He placed his fingers on his chest in faux incredulity. "I'm the jackass? Which one of us promised confidentiality when it could more than likely hurt the investigation's validity when we turn in our results?"

"Are you stuck in Academy, or is your mind still in your astrology lab?" asked Keith. "Because the only way we were going to get any information from Shirogane is because I promised him anonymity."

"Yeah, all of the information we can't use because of who it came from!" Lance grumbled and slumped back in the passenger seat.

"He has experience…"

"He has claims!" Lance could feel how red his face was becoming in his anger, but he couldn't believe how completely dense his partner was. "He has nothing but wild claims and a crew that never came back!" He paused to take a breath, his face not diminishing its color at all. "So excuse me if I don't count him as a reliable source. NASA obviously didn't."

"And what about his scars?" asked Keith, his hands rotating on the wheel as he drove, as if he were attempting to accelerate a motorcycle.

"What about them?"

"What about his arm? Do you think that he just claimed it away?"

"I don't know what happened," said Lance, feeling the ice in his voice and the heat in his cheeks, "but I highly doubt it was due to alien experimentation."

"There's that 'open mind' you were keeping. Great to see you've been able to try to learn new things."

"We're talking about aliens!" Lance threw his hands up with such gusto that he thwacked his wrist against the light panel in the car's ceiling.

"And?"

"You believe in them? You're a grown man and you believe in aliens!"

"Does that delegitimize my place in this investigation?" asked Agent Kogane.

Lance paused, and was careful with his words. "It… It puts you in a biased position, one that might tamper with an unbiased, scientific account of what's happened."

"Oh?" said Keith. He almost looked from the road to his partner so he could argue with him in a more straightforward way, but he then kept his eyes on the road. "And your biased, 'rational' position doesn't immediately discount—"

"No!" shouted Lance, and he knew that his tempter had outweighed rationality, but didn't particularly care. "No, it doesn't discount your ideas of extra-terrestrials! But I am going to be wary of half-baked delusions of little gray men!"

The rental car filled with silence after that, save for the slight whrrr of the air conditioner as it blew lukewarm air at their faces. The silence was broken with Keith's quiet murmur that there was no evidence of any extraterrestrial being having the construct of gender, but Lance didn't even acknowledge it. He crossed his arms and leaned back into the passenger seat, watching Shirogane's tailgate ahead of them and the endless desert disappearing into mesas on every side. He was going to do his job, and do it right, no matter what his delusional partner had to say about it.

6

They pulled off of the road onto a dirt road seeming to stretch to nowhere, which they followed for just a minute or two before Shirogane pulled off to the side, stopping his truck. Kogane pulled off of the road and parked next to him. Kogane got out of the car and went to Shirogane, probably to pick up some extra details or small talk while they waited for Shirogane's friends. Lance just hoped that they would be a bit more rational about this whole thing.

He also knew that he shouldn't get his hopes up.

He gathered up the camera he had kept in the backseat and shed his jacket before emerging into the desert heat. He rolled his sleeves up, squinting into the horizon beneath the sun as an SUV bumbled down the dirt road toward them. Lance joined Shirogane and Kogane without saying a word to either of them as the SUV pulled up next to Shirogane's truck and two people stepped out of the front seats. Shirogane went to them and greeted them, leaning to the shorter one and whispering something in their ear before they nodded and the three of them joined the two agents.

"Hello," said Keith, holding out his hand to them. "My name is Special Agent Keith Kogane, and this is my partner, Special Agent Lance McClain." Whatever animosity that was between them in the car melted away, at least for these others to see. Lance simply held his hand out and shook the hands of the two newcomers.

"I'm Hunk. Garrett," said the larger man, a grin spreading across his face.

"And you are?" asked Lance, looking toward the smaller person. "Mr.…" He hesitated, tried again. "Er—Ms.…"

"Doctor Gunderson," replied the small one, adjusting their large glasses. "Though I suppose you could just call me 'Pidge.' I know Hunk will." Hunk beamed.

"We need to show them the meteoroid pieces," said Shirogane. "And maybe you can explain what you've found about the shower itself, Pidge." He gestured with his prosthetic hand toward Lance. "Agent McClain here was formerly an astrophysicist before joining the bureau. I'm sure he'll be able to make sense of what you've found."

"I know I don't," said Hunk, opening the back of the SUV and pulling out a large and heavy-looking piece of equipment. He explained to Keith: "I'm the engineer of the operation. They're more the theoretical brain. I work practical." He lifted the machinery into his arms, a box of metal with some buttons and a small screen, as well as some appendages Lance wasn't going to even to guess the purpose of. He grinned. "This is heavy, so Shiro, you want to lead the way?"

Shirogane nodded and closed the back of the SUV for Hunk, stepping past him into the desert. The rest followed.

"So, you're an astrophysicist?" asked Pidge, walking beside Lance.

"Yeah," said Lance, "or, rather, I used to be, before I joined the bureau."

"Bit of a change in careers there," said Pidge.

"I want to discover new things," said Lance. "It's not really that different."

"…Sure," said Pidge, not seeing convinced of this fact, and kept walking. They were sprightly, and didn't seem to mind the sun and heat as it bore down on them. Lance loosened his collar a bit more and decided he might as well find out a little more about his confidential informants.

"So, what brought the three of you together?" asked Lance. Gunderson met his eyes.

"Oh, Hunk and Shiro and I?" They scratched on their cheek absentmindedly. "Well, Hunk and I go way back. We both have worked together for a while on this magazine—like, an information one, not one of those rags at the grocery aisles—about the stuff that we find."

"What kind of stuff do you find?" asked Lance, immediately wondering to himself if he really wanted to know.

"Extraterrestrial noise, irregular patterns of space debris, chatter on different topics like that…" Pidge trailed off, their eyes flitting over Lance, magnified by their enormous glasses, realizing that he was quickly being lost. "Perhaps a little different than your background."

"A little," said Lance, only realizing after he'd spoken how dry the phrase was, coming out of his mouth.

"Well, it might be, but we don't just chase flies," said Pidge. They pushed their glasses up the bridge of their nose and Lance was reminded that despite their demure appearance, they had introduced themselves as doctor. "While I'm sure you think this is all far-fetched—and I don't blame you, most people do—we are careful and scientific about everything we do. This is all very serious to us."

They weren't lying, Lance could tell that, and he was reminded of what Keith had said before about an open mind. Maybe that sort of an open mind was what had caused Pidge Gunderson—Doctor Pidge Gunderson—to change their focus to conspiracies. He could see Kogane walking ahead with Shirogane and Hunk, talking, and wondered if that was what got him into this line of investigation.

"What about Shirogane? Takashi?"

"Oh, Shiro?" Pidge looked forward at the tall man. "He came to us a little bit ago—after the whole trouble with the Kerberos mission, you know, and said he'd read our magazine. And that was flattering and all, considering his personal experience. We didn't have a position for him in the publication—which was fine, he wasn't looking for a job—but he was happy, I think, to find some people who would believe in him, you know?" Pidge paused for a moment before continuing. "It can hurt, you know, when you've got a truth that you know but no one will believe."

Lance wasn't sure what to respond to that, but he didn't have much of a chance because at that moment Hunk halted to place the piece of equipment on the sandy ground. This prompted Pidge to rush over to admonish him for not clearing out a space for it, saying something about "grains all up in the sensors." Lance joined his partner and Shirogane.

"Is this the impact site?" asked Keith, his eyes scanning the ground around them beneath the improvised visor of a flattened hand.

"Yes," said Shirogane, nodding and pointing toward the area ahead of them. Lance didn't see anything. "But they must have been covered in sand since we were last here."

"There hasn't been any wind since we were last here," said Hunk, standing from where he had been squatting to work with the equipment.

Shirogane's brow furrowed, and he knelt down in the sand, pawing it out of the way with his good hand. After a moment, Keith squatted down next to him, using both hands to sweep through the sand next to him. Pidge and Hunk took a few steps forward, as to join them, but stopped. After a moment, Keith ceased as well. Shirogane kept digging at the soft sand until Keith put a hand on his shoulder.

None of them had to say a thing, because they all knew it already—the meteorites, whatever they were, were gone.


Albert Hosteen: In the desert, things find a way to survive. Secrets are like this too. They push their way up through the sands of deception so men can know them.