Undercover As Geek

The Edification

Noah paces from one end of the room to the other, his expression deliberate, and methodically smacks his hand with a yardstick. The projector is displaying an old, smudged black and white photo on the screen that must have been half a century old. As Noah crosses in front of the light, the grainy image bends around him and camouflages his movement. 

Sitting in the lone desk before him, I find myself fascinated with the bending photograph. Today had been long again, and I yearn to go home. My eyes begin to droop.

A sudden, loud SMACK! shoots me six inches into the air. 

Noah, his wooden stick responsible for the gunshot noise, is still now, all business, watching me. "Alright," he says, his voice rough, deep, and prepared for a lecture. "This photo" -- a smack against the screen-- "was taken where?"

"Uh... Roswell?" I guess. Roswell, New Mexico was known for its alleged UFO sightings. I had been to the museum there when I was a child, and was terrified of the alien paraphernalia everywhere. I'd had nightmares about extra terrestrials for months. 

My "professor" ponders me for a moment before nodding. "And why," he muses, "is this such a vital and incriminating piece of evidence?"

In the corner of the picture, I see a black smudge that reminds me of Saturn. It could easily be dirt on the lens or an error in the printing of the photo. I yawn. "The spaceship--"

"Never 'spaceship'," Noah interrupts. "That word is amateur. 'Craft', Kennedy. Always say spacecraft."

I scowl. "The spacecraft is in plain sight to the camera, which means the people there would have been able to see it even better. And this photo roughly lines up with the UFO sighting of..." I squint at a paper in my hand. "...1943. This aligns both testimony and evidence with UFOs."

Noah nods approvingly. "Very good, very good. Now, next one." The picture on the screen changes, and I now see another picture, modern and in full color, of a hand holding a silvery material to the lens. Noah clears his throat. "This, Miss Bradshaw, was discovered in late 2001 in northern Arizona. Scientists believe that it is the remains of a burst weather balloon. Records show, however, that no weather balloons were reported damaged or destroyed by any meteorology corporation within two years of the discovery." He pauses to scratch his noise, then abruptly slams the yardstick against the board again. Involuntarily, I jump.

"Will you quit that?" I ask, irritated.        

In answer, Noah slaps the wall defiantly and glares at me. I hold my hands up in surrender and grumble, "Alright, alright. Continue."

"Ahem." Noah points his abused ruler at me. "Now, what is the importance of the 'weather balloon' discovery?"

"Err... It wasn't a weather balloon. It was actually part of an alien spacesh-- spacecraft."

"Correct." Noah strokes his chin for a moment before looking around the sides of Mr. Morton's room. "Well, researchers, what do you think?"

The UFOrdinance club members are lined against the walls, observing my lesson. All of them hold thick spirals and pens and are scribbling down notes. At Noah's question, they look up. A girl with tangled black hair raises her hand tentatively. Noah turns to her.

"Aubrey," he says and nods.

"Well." Her voice is timid and shy, but it has a pretty lilt to it. "She's doing good, it's just... when is her debriefing on our theories? It's the final breach for club entrance."

Their theories. I will have access to their theories. Asher would pee his pants if he heard this. 

Noah smiles. "Yes, but I am afraid that will be next week. After all, intergalactic space travel wasn't built in a day."