Today was the busiest and most hectic day Iris had suffered in a long time. It wasn’t for the reasons the receptionist for the Harley and Burcheck Research Facility would usually be busy. No, the days where the entrance to the main lobby was bustling with researchers, assistants, janitorial staff, and all sorts of visitors was long gone. In fact, the last few days had been eerily quiet. Staff was disappearing left and right. First a few researchers ‘quit’ with very little notice. Then the cleaning crew would sign in for shifts only to never sign out. Even accountants and HR representatives started making themselves scarce.
Instead, today was busy because the facility was expecting visitors, and everything needed to be spotless and in tip-top shape when they arrived. Apparently, whoever it was that was coming gave very short notice, and had enough sway that turning them away was the furthest thing from an option. Heck, even the names of these visitors were on a need-to-know basis. And Iris didn’t need to know. She only needed to do her job, and do it fast.
Unfortunately, time didn’t end up being on her side. She wasn’t even able to get seated from bringing a file of important documents to the director before an entourage of officials walked up to the reception desk. Each one was in full military garb, with enough medals among the five men to stack from floor to ceiling. The toughest looking of the bunch cleared his throat.
“We’re here to see Director Charter. Take us to her at once, and be quick about it! ”
Of course, before Iris could even get a word in edgewise, the director came bustling out of a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only”. She rushed quickly up to the reception counter and put himself between the guests and Iris.
“General Margrave, General Gripley, General Kelver, General Ormin, General Isaacson. Welcome! I was told you all would be coming today. Please, this way.”
One of the men in the back, who from his nametag seemed to be GEN Gripley, spoke up.
“Charter, what is this about?”
“General Gripley. Surely they briefed you all about the specifics of why I called you all here.
“I was briefed on a bunch of stupid nonsense is was I was briefed on! What’s all this about-”
But the director cut him off.
“Not here. It would be better to discuss this when we get to the person I brought you to see. We can’t be too careful about keeping this information under wraps.”
Director Charter looked side-eyed at Iris. Iris quickly pretended to be busy to avoid her gaze. Contented, the director escorted the entourage of skeptical and concerned military men towards the door she had initially come out of.
Before they disappeared behind the “Authorized Personnel Only” door, GEN Isaacson gave Iris a look that told her that she should forget she ever saw this for her own sake. Iris took the implied advice to heart. She was about to pull some forms from a file cabinet when she felt something slimy under a file folder. Looking beneath the manila folders to see what it was that she had accidentally touched, a pile of green, unnatural goop had built up inside the drawer. She began to panic, because she knew what this meant. She tried to call for help. But instead of a scream, she let out a yawn.
Iris hadn’t realized how exhausted today had left her. All this running around had made her tired. Besides, now that the visitors were no longer her problem, she finally felt a cool and tranquil calm rush over her. She needed a break. Nobody would mind if she took a quick nap and let what happens happen. So with a smile on what was left of her face, she flopped down on her chair, kicked her remaining foot on the desk, leaned back, and shut her eyes for the last time.
The generals were put in air-tight containment suits and brought into decontamination. After procedures were completed, Director Charter brought them into a giant room full of medical equipment, with a seemingly empty stretcher at its center. Of course, most of the men there had been briefed enough to know that looks were deceiving.
“Gentlemen, I brought you here today on a matter of great urgency. It seems the meteor your men brought here harbored extraterrestrial life. And the results of first contact have been… well, see for yourself.”
Director Charter brought a magnifying glass to the stretcher for the generals to look through. Laying down in the middle of the stretcher, standing probably only half a millimeter tall was a miniaturized human being. GEN Ormin was so taken aback he almost jumped out of his shoes. He screamed.
“What is that!?!?”
In response to the outburst, a speaker in the corner of the room crackled to life. A booming sound blasted out of the decrepit old amplifier.
“Ach, not so loud!!! You’ll give me a splitting headache.”
GEN Ormin turned around to look at the worn-out speaker, then back to the stretcher. Seeing his clear confusion, Director Charter cleared her throat and, in a far softer voice than before, spoke to the man on the stretcher.
“Ah, excellent! I was going to ask if the microphone we supplied you is working properly. This should make things much easier. Everybody, this is Reginald Bordeaux. He’s one of the interns we brought on about 3 months ago. And unfortunately, he’s also the only survivor of an alien attack that took place in this very facility just two days ago. Mr. Bordeaux, would you care to give us your story? Be sure to include as much detail as you can. The very fate of the world could hinge on it.”