When Happy’s laughter had subsided, Wanda asked, "What ever happened to his brother, Millard?"

Happy looked up with surprise. "Why, Wanda, don’t you remember? Millard moved away to New Hampshire and became a Baptist minister. Last I heard, he had his own Sunday morning radio show down there."

He gave his eyes one last, good swipe with the bandanna. As he bent over to stuff it back into his pocket, something fell out of his left eye and tumbled with a clink onto the kitchen table.

"What the FUCK is that?" Happy pushed himself away from the table so fast that his chair almost went over backwards.

Wanda leaned forward, picking the strange object up and held it in her hand turning it over curiously. She put on the reading glasses that were hanging around her neck for a closer look.

It was smaller than a dime, round in shape and slightly concave. It’s color was milky white and it vaguely reminded Wanda of marbles they used to play with as children ...... only this one had been broken in half. The sides of this thing, though, had been smoothed and, as she peered more closely, she could see a tiny hole that ran all the way through the center of it. No doubt about it, whatever this thing was, it was machine made.

"Jesus Jumping Up," exclaimed a badly shaken Happy, "what the hell is it and just what the HELL was it doing in my goddamn eye?" He poked at the object suspiciously, as if he were afraid it would bite him.

In the kitchen on the other side of the house, Martha wasn’t scrambling the morning eggs for her family ..... she was beating them.

Kevin shook his head as he watched her scurry about from sink to stove, slamming everything in her path. His wife had been this way ever since she’d gone over to Sam’s the morning before.

"Would you calm down?" He said, giving her a friendly swat on her butt on his way to the breakfast table. "Sam is just fine."

"Sam is not fine, you idiot!" Martha replied hotly, slapping an overflowing plate of eggs, sausage and toast down in front of him. "Something’s happened."

"Well, maybe she’s finally found her little green men." Chuckling at his sudden flash of wit, Kevin began to devour his breakfast.

"Gentlemen," Jake Gorham said solemnly, "may I present Dr. Samantha Coley."

Sam was escorted into the conference room by the plain clothed security guard who had been standing at attention outside in the corridor where she had been impatiently waiting for the past hour.

Why am I not surprised to be the only woman in this room? Sam silently asked herself.

As she placed her attache case on the spacious mahogany table, she quickly looked around the room at the nine faces turned expectantly towards her. Not counting Jake, there were two SETI representatives that she recognized. The remainder of the group were made up of suits and military.

Rapidly realizing her ex-boss was not about to waste valuable time with social introductions, Sam set about giving a brief overview of her findings.

She talked and answered intense questions for the next four hours. Time seemed to pass by in a blur. When finished, she was politely asked to remove herself from the room. Jake walked with her down the hall to the row of elevators.

"Good job." Was his only comment to her.

"Where do we go from here?" Sam asked tiredly.

Jake came to an abrupt standstill in the middle of the hall. "WE don’t go anywhere. It’s entirely out of our hands now. The government has the ball." He moved to hold the elevator door open for her.

Sam stepped into the waiting elevator. As the automatic doors started to slide shut, Jake distincly heard her ask, "Doesn’t that make you nervous?"

Once on the ground floor, Sam joined the flow of office workers emerging from the building outside onto the late afternoon Boston street. She stood there for a moment, as if perplexed, wondering what to do next. Crowds of harried people jostled by her.

All Sam wanted to do was to go home. Funny how quickly the Island had become that once again. But she knew that even if she made the long drive back to Maine now, she still would have missed the last ferry over. She resigned herself to having to spend the night in town. Probably all for the best, she realized. She was worn out from her presentation and the intense question and answer period that had followed.

Sam quickly decided against looking up any old friends and instead took a room for the night at the downtown Sheraton on Boylston Street. From there she took a cab to the Northend where she treated herself to a good bottle of wine and a quiet dinner at one of her favorite restaurants. After all, she didn’t know when she would get back to Boston again.

Sam was back on the Island by mid-day. As soon as the ferry docked, she drove directly to Minturn. She owed Martha that explanation.

She found her coming from her grandmother’s apartment, loaded down with dirty laundry.

"Wash Day?" she asked cheerfully, bending over she picked up the items Martha was dropping.

"No," Martha bit off, not slowing down her pace one small iota, "I’m on my way to go dancing."

Sam could see that she had her work cut out for her. Martha knew how to hold a grudge. While her friend put the laundry in, Sam went into the kitchen and rummaged around in the cupboards. She was looking for the bottle of brandy that she knew would be hidden away somewhere. Martha’s father used to call it his ‘cough medicine’. Sam had a good couple of fingers poured into a pair of juice glasses by the time Martha walked into the room.

"What are you doing?" Martha asked, spying the bottle sitting on the counter. "It’s barely past noon."

"We’re celebrating." Sam handed her the glass with Fred and Wilma Flinstone on it.

"Celebrating what?" Martha asked suspiciously, as she automatically took the cup.

"We’ve positively identified life outside of our own universe." Sam replied excitedly.

Martha managed to look extremely unimpressed. "You mean California?" she asked meanly, tossing back the brandy in one good gulp.

Sam sighed. She knew better than to get exasperated. She’d hurt her friend’s feelings and payback from Martha had always been a bitch.

Patiently, she recounted her last few days to her friend. She gave Martha every detail, from finding the first communication to yesterday’s meeting in Boston.

When finished, she sat back waiting for Martha’s reaction. She didn’t get the one she’d expected.

"This is just great ..... just friggin’ great! S’cuse me." she muttered, reaching past Sam for the brandy bottle.

"First, I’ve got Nana prattling on and on about Gluskabe, scaring the shit out of my boys and now this." she rubbed her forehead tiredly.

"Gluska ...... who?" asked a bewildered Sam.

"Never mind" said Martha, "you wouldn’t understand."

First, she poured for herself and than splashed some into Sam’s glass.

She’s thawing, Sam noted happily.

"What the hell are you talking about, Sam? And don’t forget ... we didn’t all go to fucking MIT."

Sam paced back and forth as she talked. Her hectic schedule over the last few days was starting to catch up to her. Fatigue was setting in. When she finished speaking there was complete silence in the room for a few moments before Martha finally broke it.

"Shit. Kev’s never going to believe this one."