“Thanks,” Snap said as Jim turned to leave.
“Let’s head down to the mess hall and check it out,” Lieutenant Neal West said to Snap. Neal was the only other officer in the squad.
“Sound good to me,” Snap replied.
The two men walked down the hotel-like hallway, passing several doors that led to unoccupied sleeping quarters. Unlike the large cavernous areas, the crew’s quarters were not carved from rough granite. Rather, the corridors had nice finished walls and were decorated with modern wallpaper and prints of landscapes. If it were not for the fact that there were no windows, you could forget you were underground. The hallway opened into a small lobby. Off to the left was a small but functional mess hall; to the right was the steward’s quarters and gym.
“I wonder if the chef is still on duty?” Neal asked.
“Let’s see,” Snap responded, as they walked into the dining room area that had twelve rectangular tables, surrounded by armless metal chairs. The stainless-steel kitchen was partially open to the dining room, with a pass through and an extra-wide doorway.
“Hello.” Snap announced their presence as they entered the commercial kitchen. In the middle of the kitchen stood a stainless-steel island with an impressive array of pots and pans hanging from a rack attached to the ceiling.
“Good evening, Sir.” Another middle-aged man emerged from around the corner, wiping his hands on a dish towel. The chef was of average height and build, and was wearing black beneath his white apron and hair net.
“Evening, Chef, I’m Lieutenant West, and this is Major Slade. We are going to be staying here for a few nights.”
“I know. I’m Chef Parker. You can just call me Chef if you like.” Chef extended his hand to Snap. Chef had a firm handshake, and made solid eye contact.
“Good to meet you Chef. So, what’s for dinner tonight?” Snap asked, returning the firm handshake. It was obvious to Snap that Chef was more than a simple fry cook.
“Well, Major, since there’s only twelve of you here tonight, I thought I would just cook something to order. I have a menu here, but if you would like something special, just let me know, and I will see if I can whip it up for you.”
“Excellent,” Snap said, as he picked up the laminated one-page menu. All your basic pub food was available, plus a couple of main entrees.
“What do you recommend?” Snap asked as he glanced over the menu.
“I make a mean seared filet mignon with a caramelized onion curry sauce. Alongside it, I place a healthy serving of asparagus in a smooth hollandaise sauce. Then, we finish the evening off with bananas foster a la mode,” the chef said, almost gleefully.
“That sounds delicious. I will have that.” Snap handed Chef the menu. “You got a beer around here?”
Chef pointed at refrigerator in the dining hall that was stocked full of a variety of beer. Snap and Neal each grabbed one and headed back into the kitchen to talk to Chef.
“So how long you been working here on Level 15?” Snap asked, as he took a swig from the brown bottle.
A slight look of concern crossed Chef’s narrow face. He paused for a moment, as if to reflect, and said, “Over 20 years.”
“Wow, you have been a Chef for 20 years?” Snap asked, obviously surprised.
“No. I started out like you, an operator. The work took a toll on my body; so, they moved me to the kitchen.”
“You didn’t want to leave Level 15 and try something different, you know, in the private sector?” Neal asked.
Chef looked puzzled for a minute, as if that thought had never crossed his mind, then said, “Nah. I wanted to stick around here.”
“Place looks empty, where does everyone else eat?” Neal asked.
Chef shuffled his feet and fumbled with a bloody steak, “I don’t serve them. They have their own quarters and DFAC. I only work in the temporary guest quarters.”
“Compartmentalization?” Snap asked.
“Yes Sir. They don’t want the guests in the permanent resident section. Afraid they might overhear something they shouldn’t.” Chef started tossing some ingredients together in a mixing bowl.
A few more members of Lightning Squad stumbled in and placed orders. Chef was getting busy flipping burgers, grilling steaks and operating the deep fryer. Snap and Neal went to the linen clad table in the back of the dining room to wait for their steaks.
“Wow, two days ago we were just a regular squad, training to fight radicalized terrorists in the Middle East, and now, we find out the world is crawling with aliens,” Neal said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean Holy Fucking Shit. This is like some freaking science fiction horror movie,” Neal said in a whisper.
“I know, it’s pretty unbelievable. Ever since the forties, the government has been covering up all this shit. I’m sure you have noticed that ever since we saw the Large Gray, what did they call him? An Ondagra? We have not been allowed out of their sight? Much less been permitted to call anyone,” Snap said.
“Did you know about any of this prior to yesterday, Major?” West asked.
“Nope, I was in the dark, just like the rest of you.” Snap took another sip of his beer.
“How do you think they have been keeping this a secret for the last 70 years? I get that they keep the circle small, but still. No one spills the beans? After 70 years?” West shook his head in disbelief.
“But there have been leaks and plenty of them. Look at all the stuff on the internet about astronauts and pilots claiming to have seen saucer shaped discs and aliens from other worlds. Those pilots are immediately discredited and made to look like clowns. Look at all the whistle blowers that died in mysterious accidents after giving an interview about Area 51 or some other above top-secret project.” Snap made fist a with one hand and leaned his chin onto it.
“Yeah, I always thought those guys were just crazy.”
Snap shook his head in disagreement. “They can’t all be crazy. There are too many of them. Generals, admirals, astronauts, scientists, and presidents have all confirmed the existence of, not only aliens, but also the cover up. They can’t all be wrong, especially when they risked their own careers to disclose the truth. It all makes sense now.”
The last of the squad arrived and were seated at the other tables. None of the enlisted men sat with Snap or West. Snap stood up, “You want another beer?”
“Yes Sir.”
Snap returned with two more cold ones. “Do you think they are telling us everything? I mean, about the Large Grays.”
Neal took a sip of his beer, rocked back on the rear legs of his chair, and took a deep breath, “No, definitely not.”
“According to the scientist that spoke this afternoon, we don’t know how many there are, where they are located, or why they are here. Hell, Ater is one of them, and he could not give us a straight answer as to what their goals are, or why they are here.”
“Yeah, he knows a hell of a lot more than he is telling us. How could he not know exactly how many there are, why they’re here, and where their bases are?” Snap asked.
“I liked it when you asked if there were any other aliens visiting the planet. Did you see the look on his long, gray face?” West laughed.
“Yeah, like, how could he not have seen that question coming?” Snap smirked.
“Did you believe his answer? That there are no other aliens on the planet but the Large Grays?”
“Well, if you believe the internet, and I’m starting to, then you have to assume they are all full of shit.”
West said, “So, we now know that aliens exist, our government has been in contact with them for years; they have been actively covering up their existence for decades, and even now, after telling us about them, they are still lying.”
“Yep that about sums it up.” Snap raised his beer bottle. West tipped his bottle toward Snap’s brew as if to giver a toast. They chuckled.