April 18, 1961 Captain’s Log:

The USS Constant was growing cold, the air thin, and the morale scarce. We sent our best six fighter planes into the gray fog and haven’t heard a lick from them since. They went into the expanding phenomenon to promote first contact. It was my way of getting the fight started.

Although we were on a mighty ocean we might have had a better chance if this was a terrain attack. Retreating or calling in reinforcements would have been much easier. Germany and France had promised to send their Flagships over two days ago, but they have not arrived. And we lost all communications with command.

In other words, we are on our own.

We were all biting our nails as we waited impatiently for something to happen. Anything. I watched my second in command as he unfolded his body from his command chair and moaned as he did. He glanced around and could almost see the entire crew shaking in their government issued boots. He patted a very young helmsman on the shoulder and then dropped back down into his chair, staring at the gray fog, thinking about what was coming.

The aliens had not attacked yet. Our fighter planes had not made contact. And all our hopes remain hanging beneath the gray fog. The waiting is making us stronger, mentally if that’s possible.

Or impossible…

April 19, 1961 Second in Command’s Log:

The captain was issuing orders on deck. I heard his command as he ordered everyone to brace themselves.

The gray fog flashed white.

It was a blinding white.

Pure White. Like driven snow.

It was so bright that even the best sunglasses on the market wouldn’t have been enough to stop it from burning the eyes.

Then the ship was hit.

Hard.

Several times.

One of the crewmen tumbled over and rolled hard onto the steel deck, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Medic stumbled, but got to him before he could roll out into the ocean.

Suddenly, the light from the gray fog flickered and for a moment went black. Then the attack came back stronger. Bombs were exploding on the decks causing heavy damage and casualties. The noise was like the worst earthquake rumbling and deep, filling every space, moving through the water like a speed boat. That’s when we realized that the attack wasn’t coming from the aliens. It came from our own fighter planes. We were being attacked by our own men. They shot right out of the gray fog guns a blazing and hadn’t realized the damaged they caused until their third pass.

They thought they were still in the gray fog battling the aliens. Then as quickly as they hit, it stopped. The gray fog was normal, the noise gone, and our fighter planes crashed into the ocean one by one as if being led there be an escort.

Our captain stood tall on deck and just held his breath…

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