Jackie and Dick
By A.L. Sirois


-So, whattaya think of this, huh?
-My God. My – are they real?
-Are they real. Look at them: six mangled corpses, each in its own separate freezer. And those fuckers are state-of-the-art, Jackie, you won't find these in your local A&P. Anyway, do you think I would have hauled you out of your comfortable house at one in the morning just for a joke? You're the comedian, not me. I don’t joke.
-Torn up, but... there's no blood…
-We cleaned them up. Y'know, it’s interesting that the really small ones look like children. What were they thinking, bringing kids along?
-Do you even know where they came from?
-We don't have a fucking clue. Mars, Venus… I don't know, NASA swears up and down that no humanoid life can exist either place. Me, I don’t know. Alpha fucking Centauri, maybe! Your guess is as good as mine. Ha ha ha ha!
-But this – this is incredible! It's amazing! You've got to tell people, it proves UFOs are real! Six corpses from a crash-landed spaceship!
-Jackie.
-Wait until news of this gets out, it'll turn the whole world of science on its ear!
-Jackie.
-I don't understand why you've got them stashed away at this Air Force base, Dick.
-The fucking thing crashed near here is why, Jackie! Surveilling, my people tell me. Laird thinks they're up to no good but I don’t, uh, I don't believe that. They're just curious.
-Well, if we meet with them and tell them what they want to know, they could, I don’t know – trade information. My God, we'd have the secret of space travel!
-We already have that. And we can't say anything. I can't say anything. Kennedy thought he had the clout to spill it. Right after the Bay of Pigs he wanted to, we looked so goddam bad he wanted to spiff up our image for the world. But you know what happened to him.
-What... are... you... saying?
-I'm saying that I can't say anything, Jackie. It's as much as my life is worth.
-Dick. You're the President of the United States.
-Makes no never-mind, my friend. None at all. I'm just the public face of a private enterprise, and you know it. No, I promise you, if I tried to get word of this out to the networks "something" would happen to me. But I'm a team player, Jackie, heh heh.
-But I could go to, I don’t know, Paley or someone…
-No one'd believe you. You bring a camera team out here, or try to – because you wouldn’t get in, first of all, this is a military base, remember… you bring a camera crew here and there's be nothing but some splinters of wood and an old pin-up calendar on the wall. They'd move the goods, here, to New Mexico or somewhere secure. Come on, Jackie – grow up. You know better. These aren't a bunch of long-haired crackpots. It's the fucking U.S. Air Force.
-Christ. Jesus Christ. Can we get out of here? I think I'm gonna puke. I need a cigarette.
-Sure, it's late and I have to get back before the Secret Service has a shit-fit. They hate it when I give 'em the slip like this. But of course they'd never have let me bring you here if I asked. Keep an eye on our friends here, soldier!
-Yes, sir. Uh, th-thank you, sir.
-Ah, smell that night air, Jackie! A little humid, but that's Florida for ya. You know, you smoke too much. What is it, six packs a day?
-Huh? Yeah, I don't know. Something. But listen, Dick, what are you gonna do with them?
-Oh, study them. Study the wreckage. Though it's pretty well torn up, like you say. That's why they look so bad. They came down hard, apparently. Something went wrong with their craft and it just… augered in, as the test pilots say. Who knows, maybe some asshole at the Cape lobbed a missile at 'em and spooked 'em. We're looking into it.
-Why did you even show me this?
-Jackie, you're my friend. That's what friends are for. You and I share a real interest in this subject; UFOs, aliens, flying saucers. I'm in a position to show you a little treasure we have stashed away. Mmm. You know, they're not like us...
-The, the aliens?
-The Air Force. They don't believe in UFOs. Here they have one and they're shit-scared of it! National security, they say, so I can't talk about it. You know you can’t talk about it, either.
-Oh shit, yeah! I don't want to talk about it!
-'You got it, Ralphie-boy!' Not bad, eh? Maybe you should have me on the show. After all, if I can do 'Laugh In…' All right, you done with your smoke? Gorgeous night, isn’t it? Look at all those stars! Okay, climb in. Fasten your seat belt, Jackie. 'And awaaaaay we go!'


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A.L. Sirois has appeared in Amazing Stories and Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine. He’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and the Nebula Award. He and his wife, author Grace Marcus, are co-authoring a novel, FRAUGHT.