Picnic(Anthony Colombo) I am a retired police officer. I belong to an organization of officers in the county where I live. That organization owns a property in the hills surrounding the county. The property has three parts to it. As you enter the road splits; to the left it climbs to a pistol range, and to the right it drops down to the campgrounds and the start of hiking trails. For those of us who have retired we meet at a local restaurant once a month to re-live our past glory. At one of those meetings we decided to take our families to the campgrounds for a family weekend.

We would arrive at 6 pm on Friday and set up our camp sites. The park allowed for trailers, campers, or tents. It even had wooden home tents for the less adventurous. Once settled in we would fire up the fire pits for a community dinner. Then we would go to the community fire pit for ghost stories. Saturday would consist of a trip to the range for the benefit of the children that lived with us. Because we all had weapons in our homes, we believed it necessary to familiarize them with how dangerous they were. Then lunch and short rest and finish with a hike to see the wilderness and its beauty. Sunday would be breakfast and taking down the camps, then home.

All went according to the plan. Friday was great, but the ghost stories caused some sleepless problems. I can see you are thinking the kids kept the adults up, but you are wrong. Yes, some of the ladies had trouble falling asleep but the biggest baby was my old partner. His wife told me he could only sleep with his duty weapon under his pillow for fear that a bear or mountain lion was about to pounce.

Saturday started just after sunup. The smell of fires and cooking pancakes was enough to take care of me. I stepped out into cool sunny morning for a September in this part of California. The kids were ready before any of the rest of us. Breakfast was the last thing on their minds, the range was more important.
Three hours later the guns had been cleaned and put away. Breakfast eaten and I was ready for a nap. No, the kids were ready for a hike. I made sure we all had water and our shoes were tied. We looked the part of urban explorers and that meant jungle Jim was over dressed.

We started down the trail and walked for about fifteen minutes when I heard, “Mister Miller I found this.” It was Billy Williams, he was holding a rock in his hand. “it’s a rock and it has a crack in it.”
I took it to look at. “well Billy it is sandstone. It is very fragile and can crumble if you aren’t careful. The crack could be because there was something trapped inside. Now if I do this right, we may be able to open it up.” I gently tapped the rock and it fractured. I pulled the two halves apart and inside was a perfect imprint of a eucalyptus leaf. The leaf had long ago decayed, but its imprint showed the little veins. “I showed it to all the kids and told them, “since this is sandstone and not a rock, I can’t say for sure how old it is, but I can tell you, because of the way this was formed it has to be hundreds of years old.” Just then there was a scream.

I looked around. Standing about ten feet away was Michael Franks. He was holding his hand and moaning in pain. I ran to him. I took his hand and he squirmed in obvious pain. Across his fingers and palm were third degree burns. “Mike what did you touch,” I asked. He pointed down at his foot. There was a rock shaped like a petrified egg. A faint Ice-cold blue light was shining out from under it. The dried leaves and pine needles near it were smoldering. I used my foot and cleared the debris away to prevent a forest fire.

I took my handkerchief out, soaked it with water, and put over the burns. Now it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out there is something real wrong. I told the Kids, “I am afraid this is where the hike ends for now. We have to get Mike back to camp.” I didn’t see a need to frighten them, so I left it at that.

Back at the campgrounds there was a pay phone because cell reception wasn’t always dependable. The members could access the phone by using a code before dialing a number, we are billed, and our dues cover the cost. We are honor bound to use it wisely, who can’t trust a cop, right? I called the Sheriff’s substation and got Deputy Stevens. The deputy is also a member of our group. I told him what happened and asked him to contact paramedics and the county has-mat team. I asked him to make sure they had a Geiger counter.

Twenty minutes later the medics were checking out Michael and dressing his hand. Mom and mike were going to Valley Medical where the states best burn unit was located. Mike and mom would spend the night for observation. The has-mat unit showed up about fifteen minutes after the ambulance left. I took them down to the burn sight. The firefighters were dressed for the occasion. The team leader led the way with the Geiger counter. It was slowly clicking out the ambient radiation, but as we neared the sight it grew louder and clicked more rapidly until it was a buzz no longer a click. Chief Drew held up his hand and said, “this is as close as anyone will go, and no one will spend more than ten minutes here. My people will mark off the area and you legal types will see that the rules are enforced. I will contact NASA Ames and get a crew up here. You guys get a crew together and secure the grounds till then.”

At 6 pm the Ames people pulled in. They were so late because they had to construct a container based on the details provided by the has-mat team. Right behind them was a government vehicle with two men in civilian clothes. I signaled them to stop and was buzzed by the driver. “nice badge, but who are you?”
“Homeland security! Who are you?”
“No one that is going to stop you,” I said with a smile. We all headed to the sight.
The Ames people got their containment device and set about securing the rock. The box was heavy. It was made of lead sheets and lined with the same material as that used as a heat shield on the space shuttle. When it was sealed in the box the lead tech said, “I got some good news and some bad. Which do you guys want first?”
“Well,” I said, “since we have to make sure the grounds are safe, let’s have the bad news first.”
The man from Homeland stepped up to me and said, “You got more security duty in your future.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
The Homeland guy was smiling now, “this is no longer an Ames job. It's ours. They secured the rock that was leaking but they also found thirty more intact rocks. So, we have a crew on the way to take over and you guys will be spending some more sleepless nights.”
“Great,” I said, “what is the good news?”
“When we leave you will have a clean and safe campground again.”

Sunday morning came and went. The sun was setting when the United States Army arrived. They were led into the camping area by The Homeland people still wearing their hand-me-downs that they wore the day before. Behind them a large deuce-and-a-half with a squad of armed men. Second was a dump truck pulling a bulldozer, with armored Humvee bringing up the rear. They pulled to a stop and the armed men took up stations around the grounds. I, personally, found this ridiculous because until now me and my buddies were the only security, but they did look impressive.

Sunday night was the first good night since this whole thing started. We didn’t have to stand guard duty; we had the military. There is something to be said for the military; they start the day with excellent breakfasts. We had nothing to do but stand around and watch. The men assigned to recovery wore chemical combat gear. They had the thirty egg shaped rocks collected and boxed up in ballistic proof crates. The dozer driver had two feet of topsoil scooped up and deposited in the bed of the dump truck all within three hours.

They were preparing to leave when the unit commander checked the rocks. He wanted to make sure they were packed to survive the trip. As he neared the first crate, I heard a voice come from his hand-held radio. The voice was clear but, in a language I had never heard before. I asked the captain about it and he said I must have misunderstood. I borrowed his radio and stood near the crate. This time he heard it too. He called the Homeland guy over and showed him.

“Voyager,” he said.

The captain said that our Voyager never carried rocks, and the Homeland guy said, “No! Not ours, theirs.” He stopped when he saw I was close enough to hear. He said, “this is classified! Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do, and I didn’t hear a thing.”
He turned his attention back to the captain and asked, “did you make the arrangements?”
“yes, we are ready to go.”
“OK, notify the Highway Patrol and let’s move out.”

The parade left in the same order it had arrived with me and the other two retired cops bringing up the rear. We secured the gate and continued to Skyline Drive. A CHP unit was there blocking traffic. We drove through the woods and through the town at the foot of the grade where we came to an intersection. At the intersection there was another military unit with traffic stopped in all four directions. Sitting in the road were three helicopters, a Blackhawk and two fully armed attack Cobras. As soon as the rocks had been transferred, all three lifted into the air and headed north east. The military also withdrew, and all was normal again. Or was it?

Rockwell – area 51?

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