Initial Arrival 30

Day 4
1 October 1956
Yakutsk, Siberia, USSR

Ivan came back later, perhaps about half an hour later. Jennifer was no longer crying. He sat down and took his notebook out again. “Do you want to continue?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He opened his notebook again. “Before coming here, what was your job?”

“I worked for the air force, a civilian, programming computers and doing calculations.” Jennifer had rehearsed this, so she knew what to say. The truth is more unbelievable and would hurt more people if believed. But she was still embarrassed to lie and uncomfortable with lying. And she couldn't control her reaction, so this would have been obvious to anyone watching her. There was nowhere to run, so she just hid.

Ivan, however, either didn't notice or didn't care this time. “Where did you work?”

“Is this relevant?” This is never going to work. I can't do this. But she did remember some things based on her discussion with the man from the clearing. “Cheyenne Mountain Complex, in Colorado Springs, Colorado.”

“How did you get to Siberia?”

“We flew in a plane.”

“We?”

“My brother and I were there, with some of the soldiers.”

“Why were you there?”

“We were in a plane. I got into an argument with some of the soldiers. They didn't like me. They called me a communist sympathizer. I think they considered my brother to be complicit as well, since he was the one who helped get me the job. So they knocked us unconscious and threw us out at some point with very little gear.”

“That seems very unusual.”

Upon contradiction to statement, Jennifer panicked. She knew he would be able to tell she was lying by her inability to hide her discomfort. As her brain was panicking, one of her thoughts she managed to state out loud, “But how else would I have gotten here?”

“But why would they risk entering Soviet territory? Or giving one of their people to the enemy? How did you even get past the radar?”

“I don't know much. And spy planes have been sent which evaded the radar. I don't know how these things work.” After a long pause, she remembered something. “I think there is one which flies at higher altitude, like 60,000 ft., maybe.” Jennifer believed Ivan didn't understand as he didn't respond immediately. So she thought for a bit, doing the mental calculation. “About 18,000 m.”

“You didn't fall from that height, though, right?”

What am I supposed to know of how these things worked. “I don't know.”

“And what happened to your brother?”

It was the first time Jennifer felt she didn't need to lie, at least not completely. This let her calm down a bit. “I don't know. He … dropped … first. But, when I got to the ground, he wasn't in sight. I never saw him again.”