that Julian wrote for, and it had been the first to post the video of her and David fleeing the underground bunker. The site’s header was an image of a green alien in a flying saucer. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence in terms of reporting excellence, but she knew that Julian took it seriously, and she trusted Julian. She went back to reading the post.
WHAT IS PRESIDENT RANDALL TRYING TO HIDE?
By Jason Briggs
Posted August 7, 2014 at 7:43 PM
Tags: aliens, UFOs, conspiracy, cover-up, Reese Holloway, David Li, Elizabeth Randall
During President Randall’s press conference earlier today, she stated the following:
“After the ship that you saw in the video lifted off, we have had no further contact from the Imria. At this point, we are alone, again, on our planet. So, I say this to the Imria: If you are watching, I invite you to make public contact with us. We will meet at a global summit. We will begin our relationship anew. And to my fellow Americans, I offer my heartfelt apologies. On behalf of all the administrations before mine that kept this secret from you: I am sorry. I hope we can move forward into a more truthful and open future.”
Let’s take this point by point:
1. Half an hour after her press conference ended, a black triangle appeared in the skies above San Francisco and came to rest over the Noe Valley neighborhood where Reese Holloway (one of the two teens recently returned to their families from Area 51) lives. Given all the advanced technology that the president has at her disposal, how could she not know that the Imria were still around? But let’s give Randall the benefit of the doubt (for once!). The Imria obviously have even more advanced tech than we do. They could have cloaked their spacecraft after they left Area 51 and Randall might truly have had no evidence that they were still on the planet. But the question that follows is: Why did they come back?
2. Though Randall’s apology might appease some people, it’s hardly enough to explain the decades of silence and denial the government has perpetrated. If they’ve been secretly in contact with aliens since 1947 (and let’s not even get into the crazy significance of that date), they can’t seriously expect one tiny apology to wipe away the last 67 years of lies. If the United States government really wants its citizens to trust them, they need to do way more than offer one throwaway apology. How about starting with full disclosure about what happened at Roswell? Some things might need to remain classified, but I think it’s safe for the government to admit that they covered up the truth about what happened in New Mexico. That would be a great first step toward rebuilding the American people’s trust in their government.
3. Moving forward into “a more truthful and open future” sounds good, but it won’t work if the government silences key witnesses like Reese Holloway and David Li. These two may be only teenagers, but they were trying to do right by telling the truth about what happened to them. It did not reflect well on the Randall Administration’s declaration of openness to have the teens’ press conference shut down by a man in black. It’s imperative that Holloway and Li be given a chance to tell their story. That’s why I’m inviting them to tell their story right here on Bin 42. I will do my best to make sure that their words won’t be edited or censored. Reese and David: call me!
4. Finally, to determine whether Holloway and Li really do have fast-healing and telepathic abilities, they need to submit to testing by an independent board of scientists. If they do have these abilities, it is totally revolutionary, and could mean amazing advancements in medicine. While I’m sure they’re not eager to become lab rats, they need to realize the incredible significance of their situation. I hope they’ll let science prove to the world what they’ve said they can do.
There were already 138 comments at the end of the post, but Reese didn’t scroll to the bottom of the screen. She saw a link in the sidebar to a video clip from the press conference, and despite the nervous twitch in her belly, she clicked on it.
There she was, standing with David on her front steps, their hands clasped. Her hair was tangled, and there were shadows under her eyes. The clothes she wore didn’t fit well. The long-sleeved blue tee was lumpy on her, and the pants made her look hippy. The outfit looked better on David, but he also showed signs of exhaustion. His face was ghostly pale, and his hair had a cowlick in the back and was plastered down in front as if he had tried to tame it with water. Through her computer’s speakers, she heard herself talking, and her voice sounded like a stranger’s.
That was when Amber came down the stairs and turned Reese and David around. Reese couldn’t see Amber’s face in the video—it was obscured by the back of David’s head—but she saw Amber lean into her, whispering in her ear. A moment later Amber walked around them to talk to the reporters. In comparison to Reese and David, Amber looked like a movie star. She was dressed casually in a red hoodie and jeans, but Reese knew that it didn’t matter what Amber wore; what mattered was the way she wore it. She had a face that was made for the camera, with her big gray eyes and glossy lips. When she walked through the reporters toward the erim and the small craft, the cameras followed her until the craft took off. Then, with a jerk, the video turned back to Reese and David. They looked shell-shocked, and it took a minute before the press conference returned to the subject of what had happened to them.
After the video ended, Reese shut off her computer, but Amber’s face lingered in her mind’s eye. Reese didn’t want to think about her. She was still angry about Amber’s lies—angry and hurt. How could Amber expect Reese to believe her offer of help? She couldn’t believe anything Amber said, even if she said it by whispering in her ear. Reese remembered lying on the beach with her, Amber’s mouth against her skin, breathing her name.
She opened the door of her bedroom as quietly as possible and tiptoed down the stairs in the dark. The door to the guest room where her father slept was closed. In the kitchen she poured herself a glass of water from the filter and looked out the window at the backyard. Was the black triangle still out there? She opened the back door, stepping onto the brick patio in her bare feet. It was an unexpectedly clear August night, with no fog misting the air. The bricks were rough beneath her toes as she tipped her head back and stared at the dark sky. Few stars were visible, but she could see the triangular ship above, where white lights defined its three corners. It hung still and silent: a black ornament on a tree of night.
She thought about the question raised in the Bin 42 blog post. Why had the Imria returned? There was one possibility that made immediate sense to her. They came back because they wanted her and David. Why else would that ship be hovering over her house like an omen? It wasn’t a comforting idea.
CHAPTER 3
Reese’s parents were sitting at the kitchen table with a pile of newspapers when she came downstairs late Friday morning. “Good morning,” her dad said.
“How’d you sleep?” her mom asked.
“Okay.” Reese went straight to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup, adding milk. She heard the beat of rotors outside. “Are there still helicopters up there?”
“They’ve been there all morning,” her dad said. “The spaceship is still there, and people are still coming to look at it.”
She went to the back door and peered out the window. She couldn’t see the black triangle from this angle, but she could see a helicopter making an arc across the sky. “How long can they fly around up there?”
“I don’t know,” her mom said, sounding resigned. “As long as that ship is here, probably. There’s nothing to stop people from coming to look, either. It’s created kind of a traffic jam out front, but as long as people keep moving, the police can’t force them to leave. It’s a public sidewalk.”
Reese went into the living room, pulling the curtains aside a few inches to look out. The normally quiet street was choked with traffic and pedestrians. Cars moved sluggishly down the block, and the sidewalks on both
