NNL 0800 hrs. February 6

Jarod went over his presentation as the Backstep team arrived. The first to show was Dr. Ballard.

“Good morning, Dr. Ballard.” Jarod shook hands with the permanently seated genius.

“Morning, Dr. Seaborg, I'm excited to hear what you've got for us.” Ballard buzzed up to the conference table, his motorized wheel chair moving smartly over the gray carpet.

“Please, call me Jarod.” The Pretender knew from Ballard's file how eclectic he could be. Just in time to save Jarod from a dull conversation about quantum physics, Frank and Donovan walked in.

“So, Dr. Seaborg, how many more days can you squeeze out for us?” Frank asked as he took a seat. Easily, he put his feet up on the chair beside him and yawned lazily. Jarod studied Lt. Frank Parker before answering.

“Three days, maybe more.” Jarod responded, not quite sure he trusted Frank. He would have to keep an eye on the chrononaut. Frank was smarter than he acted.

“Good morning everyone.” Dir. Talmadge strolled in, followed by the rest of the Backstep team. Olga sat across from Frank, Ramsey seated beside her. For the next two hours everyone was all ears, except for Frank. The chrononaut let the technical stuff slide over him like water from a shower head. As long as the ride didn't get any rougher he didn't care about time phase or streamlining fuel cycles. It all bored him to death.

Jarod took questions and explained concepts. Most of the questions came from Ballard. The man had an insatiable thirst for knowledge.

“Now, if there are no further questions, I believe Dr. Seaborg should see the sphere hangar.” Talmadge ended the meeting. The team dispersed quickly, leaving only Dr. Ballard, Talmadge and Jarod.

“Jarod, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to the hangar.” Ballard waved him toward the door.

Scene Break

The Centre Blue Cove, Delaware February ?

“Miss Parker, the jet is finally ready to take off.” Broots rushed in to Sydney's office. They'd been stuck at the Centre for nearly thirty-six hours. Broots lamented to himself how much babysitting money he was going to owe the sitter.

“Finally, those flyboys are such pansies. Sitting here with you two, I've never been so bored.” Miss Parker moved swiftly, leaving Sydney and Broots running to catch up.

Scene Break

Las Vegas, Nevada February 5

Nevada was calm and warm, especially compared to ice covered Delaware. The Centre team shed their coats aboard the plane.

“Where do we start, Miss Parker?” Broots asked, “the clearances to get onto the Air Force base haven't come through yet.”

“Then we start with the people in the newspaper article, use your process of elimination.” Parker's ice blue eyes narrowed as she hissed near his ear. The trio took out across the boiling tarmac of the Las Vegas air strip. All three felt relieved to be warm again. The storm in Delaware had dumped four feet of snow on the ground in twenty-four hours and caused electrical outages across the northeast.

“Who's the nearest, Broots; David Barber or Cheryl Helms?” Sydney asked as they walked toward a black, Lincoln town car.

“Um, Cheryl Helms, she lives in a subdivision not far from here.” Broots searched the file he carried as he walked.

“Great, single story, stucco, ranch houses, here we come.” Miss Parker groused.

Thirty minutes later...

Indeed, Cheryl Helms lived in a single story, stucco ranch with a red, Spanish tile roof. The whole place looked prickly. A palm tree loomed from behind the house and cacti lined the cement drive way as well as beneath the windows along the front of the house. Miss Parker stepped out first. Her leather dress boots stomped across the weathered walk quickly. She had left her navy blue blazer in the car. A faint breeze made Parker's ice blue, silk blouse flutter around her as she took long, graceful strides. The impatient brunette waited for her knock's answer when Sydney and Broots caught up.

“Ms. Helms, may we have a moment of your time?” Miss Parker asked, a thin veneer of charm added to her appearance. A short, chubby lady peeped out from behind an arched door. A door chain kept the older lady hidden. After looking the three strangers over suspiciously, she allowed them in.

“Ms. Helms, we're here to speak to you about an article you were quoted in, March of 1970.” Miss Parker opened as they walked into Ms. Helms' living room. An ancient, floor model television played the History Chanel. An overly serious sounding announcer rambled on about UFO's during Biblical times.

“Oh, dear, that's been some time ago.” She laid a chubby, sausage link hand on her cheek.

“We would appreciate anything you can tell us, Ms. Helms.” Sydney looked at her over his round sunglasses. The older woman blushed as Syd spoke to her in his charming, old-world accent. Broots hid a snicker. Parker rolled her eyes as she fiddled with her aviators.

“Oh, please, sit down.” Ms. Helms showed them to a worn, but clean, brown sofa; complete with throw pillows. “A nice, young man was here the other day asking about this same thing. He drank a quart of ice tea and a whole batch of my sugar cookies. Where did you say you were from again?” The three guests looked at each other, knowing who Ms. Helms' visitor had been.

“A newspaper in Delaware.” Miss Parker answered before either of her cohorts could botch it. Shuffling into the kitchen, Ms. Helms began pouring iced tea for her guests. They heard the rattle of glasses and the slam of cabinet doors.

“I talked to so many reporters after I saw that UFO. They asked me some of the craziest questions.” A tinkling laugh echoed through the small house. “What are you three here about after so many years?” Ms. Helms presented them with a tray of iced tea glasses and vanilla wafers. Syd and Broots helped themselves.

“My colleges and I are working on a national article on the history of UFO's.” Sydney took the lead.

“Have you ever seen a UFO, Mr..?” She sat back in her arm chair with a heavy bottomed thud, the lace doilies fluttering.

“Call me Sydney, Ms. Helms,” Sydney smiled indulgently, “No, I haven't.”

“Ms. Helms, tell us about the UFO.” Miss Parker redirected the conversation, growing impatient with Sydney's flirty tack.

“I was out in the desert with some friends, near the Air Force Base. Bobby Daniels and I were sitting on the tailgate of his daddy's pick-up. We had snuck off from the others, to be alone.” She blushed, looking at Sydney. “I remember how clear the sky was that night, me and Bobby were listening to an old Elvis song on the radio and passing a beer back and forth. We thought we were something else back then.” Miss Parker could see the sadness in the older woman's eyes. “Anyway, I thought I saw a shooting star, but no star is shaped like what I saw. Whatever it was, it landed a few hundred yards away. It was so clear Bobby and I could make out the sides of it. Then, as we were walking towards it, military police showed up. There were all kinds of lights and they brought equipment in from the base I guess. Two of the MP's took us into custody. We were kept for three days at the base, being asked questions, three days that I know of. My mamma swore to her dying day that I was missing for over a week.” A faraway look took over Ms. Helms' face. Her chubby hands toyed with the fabric of her pink house dress.

“Do you remember any of the MP's, Ms. Helms, do you remember any of their names or faces?” Miss Parker snapped her fingers at Broots to pull out the pictures. Choking on a vanilla wafer, the tech ace pulled the folded pictures out of his button down shirt's pocket.

“No, not any of their names, but I do remember a few faces.” Miss Parker handed her the photographs. She lied, “he was one of the soldiers. He asked me questions when the others were gone. Charles gave Bobby and me candy bars that first night. I was so scared.” A happy, excited tone filled the woman's voice as she traced Major Charles' face.

“Do you recognize the other two men?” Parker gritted her teeth to ask. Ms. Helms studied the photograph of Mr. Parker and Dr. Mentnor.

“Hmm, I saw this one on the last day I can remember.” She pointed to the picture of Mentnor before handing it back.

“What happened to Bobby Daniels, do you know where we can find him?” Broots finally spoke, knowing Miss Parker was giving him a death threat stare.

“Vietnam happened to Bobby, you can find him in Arlington, young man.” Ms. Helms wiped a tear out of her eye before it could slip down her round, granny cheek.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” The tech guy mumbled. Miss Parker gave Syd and Broots the signal to leave.

“Thank you, Ms. Helms.” Sydney shook the lady's soft hand, a coy expression on her round face.

“I'll be right here if you have any more questions, Sydney.” Miss Parker rolled her eyes at the gushy sound of Sydney's name as she escorted the three strangers to the door. Turning back, Broots saw Cheryl Helms standing in the doorway waving at Sydney.

“Way to go, Dr. Love.” Parker commented dryly after they'd pulled away from the house.

“Yeah, Sydney, she seemed very interested in you.” Broots added from the back seat.

“I just thought she would be more forth coming talking to someone of her own generation, Parker.” Sydney defended himself logically. Miss Parker gave him a skeptical look in the rear view mirror.

Scene Break