02 July 1947
Desert near Roswell, New Mexico.
The desert held its breath.
The radio didn't.
Deputy Carl Whitaker kept roaming the scrub, with no clear name for what he was feeling right then, but he knew, deep down, that something wasn't right.
"We searched the whole place, Carl. I think it was just the wind." Hank didn't even believe what he said, but he had to say something.
"The wind doesn't look like a black figure, Hank, and the air out here is too warm; we can't be that delusional."
The crew was hiding in the dark, somewhere in the mountains.
They were able to hear them talking, thanks to the ring.
Lys eased the cloak, just enough to let the ring show for both of them.
"I know, but—" Hank stopped talking immediately, eyes wide, jaw low.
Carl didn't dare turn around to see what made his partner go quiet, but curiosity was stronger than him. He turned.
He saw it.
Finally he knew he wasn't crazy, but what stood in front of him was beyond crazy.
It was a strange-looking kind of machine.
It was the ring something he had never seen before.
It was intact, no burn, no damage.
All black, with hints of gray.
No obvious doors, no windows.
Human technology hadn't gotten that far yet, this was revolutionary.
Is this an Army plane we shouldn't know about? he thought.
There was silence.
An eerie silence.
Not a single word exchanged between the two men.
Suddenly there was a sound, a rattle on Carl's shoulder radio. One word came through.
"Help."
It wasn't loud, it wasn't urgent.
It was soft but desperate. It was a woman's voice neither of them recognized.
There were no women in their department, and that made it worse, it scared them, and both felt their heartbeats climb.
"Who was that?" Hank asked, knowing Carl didn't know either, but needing to check because he felt like he was already losing his mind.
"I don't know, Hank."
Carl didn't take his eyes off the thing in front of him. He didn't feel able to talk or react.
On the other side of the ring, somewhere hidden in the dark scrub and ridge, Lys watched Carl and Hank standing there.
"We need to start slow and soft. We can't scare them like every time," Lys whispered to her crew.
"I know we should, but is showing them the ring really a good idea?" Nyro asked.
"Yes, we had this conversation before, Nyro. Relax, please."
Lys tried to reason with him; even though he wasn't convinced, he just nodded.
"Now, Zia, your turn touch his radio, and don't say much, just the one word we came here for."
"Help."
They all watched as Carl and Hank stood there, frozen.
"Can we skip to the part where they do something?"
"Oh, shut up, Keanu. They're shocked," Zia said. She's the quiet one, but this was already a stressful moment, and Keanu wasn't helping.
"Rightfully so, they're facing a giant wagon they've never seen before. That's the perfect first impression, guys. We should've just kept it hidden like it was when we landed," Nyro muttered, still stuck on the same remark.
"That's not the time for this" Lys said, her teeth clenching. "If they hear us, we're done."
They fell quiet and focused on the two men who were still just staring.
Carl finally decided to take a step toward the ring. The voice they heard was clearly a message from someone inside this thing that's what he thought. It was English, which meant this was an Army plane or some new project and a soldier was trapped inside.
"We don't know what that is, Carl. Don't get too close. It could explode."
"Don't worry, I'm aware. Call for backup."
He kept moving, but as he'd already noticed, there was no entry door. He circled it, looking for a seam that wasn't there.
Then he noticed something on the ground.
A strip of cloth. That didn't worry him, what did was what was written on it.
REVIVAL.
English. As far as he knew there were no Army uniforms with that word on them. Or maybe there were, and he just didn't know.
"I can't raise anyone" Hank said. "Signal's weak."
"Get up to the main road maybe you'll catch a signal."
"And leave you here on your own?" Hank sounded genuinely scared, which wasn't usual for him.
"I'm armed don't worry."
"All right, I won't take long."
Carl stayed there, looking at the strip in his hand.
Then he heard something else.
It wasn't the wind.
It wasn't one word.
It was a full sentence.
"Guys, should I say it now?" Lys whispered.
"Yeah, I think it's time. Hopefully he gets it this time," Keanu said, arms folded across his chest.
It was the moment they had risked everything for.
The moment to clear the way for the other landing.
The moment humanity was depending on.
"We are people. Wait fourteen minutes. After every visit from us, wait fourteen minutes. It's for your safety."
This can't be real.
He must be afraid and hallucinating.
"Don't chase. Just watch and listen until the fourteen minutes are over."
Those fourteen minutes were the safety window.
The problem is, it's not measured with real time.
That made the timeline far from clean.
This was what broke the pattern in every loop.
Through all this time the buzz and noise didn't stop. It wasn't coming from the ring, it was in the air.
If Carl waits, he won't see their faces. He won't get sick or confused by the field. The Army will roll in as they leave.
The fourteen minutes weren't up yet.
Carl felt heavy and wanted to chase the voice he heard.
But this time he didn't.
He stayed still, waiting for the fourteen minutes to be done.
He grabbed his notebook and wrote three words and underlined them twice: Wait fourteen minutes.
He looked at the cloth in his hand one last time before putting it inside the notebook.