Invasion

"Of course, Mr. Nile," Ms. Bryer said. She blinked. Her voice echoed in the now empty ballroom. She smiled to herself. It had been the strangest sale she'd ever made, but what a commission!

The rain sounded like grains of sand as it pummeled the window off to the right of Jesse's desk. Peals of thunder added to the atmosphere. Jesse liked lightning storms. It reminded him of summertime during his childhood back in Detroit.

It was late afternoon and under normal circumstances Jesse would have been ready to head home. Unfortunately Vince Garbon had called in sick that morning, and Jesse had to do work for two. With another hour of paperwork to go, Jesse picked up his empty coffee mug and pushed back from his desk. From years of experience he knew that one more cup wouldn't keep him up that night, and it would help him get through the rest of the day.

On his way to the communal pot, Jesse was struck by how many of his fellow officers were coughing, sneezing, or sniffling. On top of that were all the guys out sick, like Vince. Something was going around, and Jesse considered it a blessing that he'd not been stricken.

On his way back to his desk, Jesse happened to glance through the glass divider into the captain's office. To his surprise the captain was standing at the window facing into the squad room with his hands behind his back and a contented smile glued to his face. When he caught Jesse's eye he waved and flashed a toothy grin.

Jesse waved back. But as he sat down, he wondered what was up with the captain. First of all, he rarely stayed this late unless there was some special ops, and second of all he was always in a bad mood by the afternoon. Jesse had never seen him smile after twelve.

After getting himself comfortable once again and with his pen in his hand poised above one of the innumerable forms, Jesse hazarded another glance into the captain's office. To his surprise the captain was still in the same spot sporting the same smile. Like a voyeur, Jesse stared at the captain for a beat and tried to divine what on earth the captain was smiling about. It wasn't a humorous smile. It was more a smile of satisfaction.

With a bewildered shake of his head, Jesse refocused his attention to the stack of forms in front of him. He detested paperwork, but it had to be done.

A half hour later, with several of the forms completed, Jesse again got up from his desk. This time it was nature calling. As usual the coffee had gone right through him.

Heading for the men's room at the end of the hall, he glanced into the captain's office and was relieved to see it was empty. Inside the lavatory Jesse didn't dally. He did his thing and got the hell out because there were a half dozen guys in there coughing and sneezing and blowing their noses.

En route back to his desk Jesse passed by the drinking fountain to wet his whistle. That took him by the property booking desk, where he was spotted by Sergeant Alfred Kinsella through the wire mesh of his cage.

"Hey, Jesse!" Alfred called out. "What's up?"

"Not much," Jesse answered. "How's that blood problem of yours?"

"No change," Alfred said. He cleared his throat. "I still have to go in for a transfusion now and then."

Jesse nodded. He had given blood just like most of the guys on the force for Alfred's benefit. Jesse felt sorry for Alfred. He couldn't comprehend what it would be like to have a serious illness the doctors couldn't even diagnose.

"Want to see something bizarre?" Alfred asked. He cleared his throat again and then coughed forcibly several times. He put a hand to his chest.

"You okay?" Jesse asked.

"Yeah, I suppose," Alfred said. "But I've been feeling a little punk over the last hour or so."

"You and everyone else," Jesse said. "What do you have that's bizarre?"

"These little guys," Alfred said.

Jesse moved over to the chest-height counter of the property lockup. He saw that Alfred had a row of black discs in front of him, each about an inch and a half in diameter.

"What are they?" Jesse asked.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," Alfred said. "In fact I was hoping you might be able to tell me."

"Where'd they come from?"

"You know the rash of first-time offenders being brought in the last couple of nights and booked for crazy stuff like lewd behavior or having mass meetings in public spaces without permits."

Jesse nodded. Everybody had been talking about it, and Jesse himself had seen some strange behavior lately.

"Every last one of those people had been carrying one of these black miniature frisbees."

Jesse got his face close to the wire mesh so he could get a better look. The black discs appeared like container tops. There were about twenty of them.

"What are they made of?" Jesse asked.

"Damned if I know, but they are heavy for their size," Alfred said. He sneezed several times and blew his nose.

"Let me see one," Jesse said. He reached through the opening of the wire mesh cage with the intention of picking one of them up. Alfred grabbed his arm.