The tiny remote mars explorer spun its camera about 360 degrees.
It was a long day for the analyst at NASA.
"I think were just about out of juice." one tired scientist remarked.
"I think the space program is out of juice." his fellow rejoined.
"Did I see a foot?" the first scientist wiggled the remote camera
back to the image. "That's a humanoid" he stammered, "with wings?"
In a matter of minutes the empty command center was full of NASA
technicians. They widened the camera lense.
An Angelic figure was looking into the camera.
The humanoid creature spread its wings and flew away.
"That was Comcast in the feed right?" a technician queried.
"Remember the time the signal got scrambled and we got Jeopardy?"
"Yeah. That was in 2005 or 6?" The conversation rambled on.
It was decided to have the film reviewed and do a point check of the
"I know what we saw was impossible, but it was recorded."
Helen was the PR manager. She had to think up a spin on this
quick. They were thousand of NASA subscribers watching the signal
"We have been hacked." she said firmly.
"It's like that face on Mars or the solar spaceship.
Some hacker put that into our transmission."
Helen smiled and looked about the room of NASA best analysts.
They all knew the budget was tight and they could be fired by Helen.
"Um-I suppose that's a reasonable explanation." a grey haired scientist
"Well, that is the official response.
I don't want any Angels in our Mars program."
Helen commanded all everyone to sign a nondisclosure agreement.
She walked stiffly to the exit.
"Do you think it was a Martian?" one timid analyst asked after Helen
"It's not Comcast. Don't know what to say, accept that it's some
radical evolution on Mars." The grey old man laughed and typed in
a re-tracking of the sighting area.
"Hmf?" the Mars rover was not responding and the video was blank.
" Oh God.. not another one toasted." The grey old man sat back in his
chair and sipped his coffee.
"Guess were going to pull some overtime on this.. What the Hell?"
The video popped up with an image of the Martian Angel holding it.
The Martian was speaking into the camera, but there was no audio.
"Should we call Helen?" the timid analyst queried.
The room was silent.
"Dose anyone read lips?" the old man asked.
One analyst came forward, "Yes. My sister is hearing impaired.
But, that's not English."
The old man took a deep breath and called Helen.
The official story would still stand.
The Central Intelligence agency would handle the rest.
"Okay. Anybody want to get something to eat?
I think were done here." The old man smiled and put on his Apollo Jacket.
Since the beginning of scientific inquiry, science has been at the
mercy of politics. No Martian Angel would change that.
© Copyright 2012 bob county (UN: muzzy43 at Writing.Com).
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