It moved. I said, jumping back from the bank of monitors in the observation room, I knew immediately that I would get grief for my reaction.

Well, well, well, Richard said as he pushed back from the monitors, swiveling his chair around to look at me.

For a big guy, you're kind of jumpy, aren't you, Wilson? I heard Barrett, my new boss, chuckle from her spot on the corner of the small,

electronics-filled room.

I'm not jumpy, I said, defensively.

I just, just, what the hell is that thing anyway?

What's it look like?

Pritchard asked, turning back to the bank of monitors.

The figure on the screen, as seen from different angles, was small and covered with a large white sheet.

It looks like a damn kid in a cheap ghost costume, I said, although I couldn't see any of its features thanks to the sheet.

That's what it looks like, Pritchard said, his tone turning serious.

But it's definitely not a kid. Whatever else it is, it's not a kid. Best you remember that.

What did you do to get sent down here?

Barrett said from the corner. I turned toward her, trying to think of a lie.

Nothing, I said.

Just had a disagreement with my last CO. It was blown all out of proportion. I heard

you punched him, Barrett said, stepping out of the shadows to stare at me. I said nothing.

Of course, she already knew.

Listen, Barrett said. They clearly didn't tell you anything before sending you down here.

The foundation never tells us Grunts anything. Situation nominal. But let't tell you anything before sending you down here. The foundation never tells us grunts anything.

Situation nominal.

But let me tell you this.

...