Homo Cosmiens:
Samuel (Sam) Fraser
Lieutenant Colonel Samuel (Sam) Fraser watched television in
his home in Georgetown. Gathering intelligence about the Vessel
was his newly assigned job. He pressed the channel change button
on his television remote.
"Mother of six claims the Vessel took her children. News at
eleven," squawked the voice from Sam's television.
His handsome face grimaced as he listened to the babble about
the Vessel. He pressed the button on his remote again.
"Will you intervene in our current financial crisis?" the
interviewer asked in a demanding tone. "What is your position on
big government? Do you plan to run for office?"
Sam's short haircut made his ears appear to be the prominent
feature on his head. His strong hairline formed a peak, low on
his forehead, which made his hair seem to sit on his head like a
cap.
The Vessel replied, to the interviewer, in a dry and controlled
voice. "We are not here to change anything in your world. We are
here only to help you achieve your goals and to ensure your
continued existence. We will not interfere with your
governments. We will not impose ourselves on you at all."
A frown formed on Sam's kind face. "What a circus surrounds the
Vessel and how absurd it all is," he thought. He pressed the
button again.
"...Watch Dave have intergalactic fun tonight with his special
guest star: the Vessel," said the excited television announcer.
Sam Fraser believed in country and duty above all else, he
learnt this from an early age. These feelings drove him into his
life of service. While at military school in Mississippi, they
reinforced the idea that God and country were everything. Again,
he pressed the button on his remote.
"Oprah interviews the Vessel to talk about its early years..."
"Why would people talk to a creature like the Vessel in such a
way? What does this thing want with us? That is what they should
be asking." All he knew, for certain, were his suspicions of its
motives and that he would defend his country against it, with
his life, if need be.
A photo on his sideboard caught his eye. The noise from the
television faded. Three young men sitting on an armored vehicle
looked back at him with solemn looks. He could smell the dust on
their uniforms. His mind drifted to Iraq. He found himself back
in combat. Children, looking at him with pleading faces, reached
up and touched him. He was walking down a rubble-filled street
past the bullet-hole riddled façade of a crumbled building. He
saw again the horrible acts of brutality against innocent men,
women, and children. He heard the explosion of an improvised
explosive device and his skin went cold. He fell back to his
living room and his current reality. He was in a cold sweat and
trembling. He pressed the button on his remote again.
"So what is it like not to have a body," asked Ellen in her dry
manner. A roar of laughter irrupted from Sam's television.
His faith in god had become confused after Iraq, but his loyalty
to his country had grown stronger. "How could god allow such
things?" he found himself thinking. "Democracy, the founding
fathers, and manifest destiny, these things are real not god."
The din from the television faded again. "Sammy, did you say
your prayers?" asked the soft voice of his long dead mother.
"When I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep,"
continued his ghostly mom. "...Sammy, we will be late for church.
Come on get out of bed and get dressed or I will call your
father." Her voice melted away.
"Sam, honor is all a man has in the end, do not forget this
son," his long dead father spoke in a stern voice. "...Attention
Samuel! Stand up straight, shoulders back, eyes forward,"
commanded his fatherly specter. "...I do not know Sam if god
exists, but I know that America does. It is our job to defend
her Sam, you remember this son."
More laughter from his television greeted Sam as he returned to
the real world. He asked himself, "Why all these memories now?
When will I be able to forget?"
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