Contrary to that, when the ‘critical event’ is with a negative value, causing harm or evil, it is much better remembered and defined as more important for the development of the system.
In such instance of negative ‘critical event’ its victims tend to give it names like ‘war’, ‘calamity’, ‘death’, ‘bad luck’, ‘apocalypse’.
“Good afternoon, everyone. I am Major Norman Smith.”
The man was about 50, more than six feet five inches tall, very thin, but exuding strength and power. His aquiline nose was dominating the tanned face and it was only his intelligent and lively eyes that softened a little his stern and rough aura. He was dressed in camouflage military clothes, as if ready to enter a battle at any time. He stood before the sitting audience like a strict teacher, who was examining his students in the end of the term. The multimedia slowly changed the slides with incomprehensible figures and diagrams of meteorological and seismological measurements. Heavy silence hung in the room.
“I know what you are expecting from me now. To explain to you why you are here. Actually, I’ll be expecting the answers from you.”
“Excuse me, sir, but the normal logic suggests that the US Army owes us some explanation, if not apologies for this. You interrupted my holidays, I cannot communicate with my family…” Alan was accumulating speed.
“I also insist on an explanation”, Marcela interfered, having gained courage from the course of the meeting and ready immediately to stride the group discontent.
“Gentlemen… Madam…”, the Major tried to raise his voice over theirs.
“When will we be able to contact our families? How can you keep us in isolation? Are we some sort of prisoners?”, Michael asked.
Only Hans was sitting in the back, not saying a word.
He was the last one to come to the base, but arrived for the meeting with immaculate appearance and exactly on time. The first impression of him was of a plump and agreeable man who could be detected from miles away as a queer fish. His ubiquitous plaid jacket had surrendered to the tropic heat and he had on a light blue shirt, surprisingly not accompanied by a necktie, but all buttoned up. Either for that reason or because of his overweight Hans was constantly sweating, his short curly hair was all wet, the shirt was stuck to his spherical body and his glasses were fogged to a degree that made him completely blind. Poor man took off their massive frames to clean the glass with his shirt and wiped his forehead with a white handkerchief – he had one of these in his pocket at all times.
As a young boy Hans was quite plump, hence a good target for mockery by his classmates. He did not have friends and found a refuge in the thick books with long and complex equations. He was reading a lot till the age of sixteen, then began writing himself – also thick books for which he was highly awarded by prestigious universities.
He was a mathematician by profession, but his true love was physics. Nobody could ever imagine Hans, the genius, deal in something different but dull figures and incomprehensible formulas. When he was in high school there was a story how his mother took him to a piano lesson with the hope that her son would become a musician and Hans described to the poor teacher all notes in terms of physical frequencies and number of oscillations per minute. Or at least something like that. Naturally, both the lesson and his musical career ended on that very day.
This did not prevent him from acquiring his first PhD when he was sixteen, at eighteen he was a professor in Cambridge and when he turned twenty five, he became the youngest member of the Austrian Academy of Science.
Today he was sitting in the room and did not seem surprised or distressed in the least.
Near him, in the darkest corner, two men were sitting who also did not take part in the discussion. One was whispering from time to time to the other and he was nodding approvingly.
“Hans, you have no family”, Alan snapped, “or maybe you would call your assistant. Don’t worry, even without you there will be someone to read your dull lectures.”
“Alan, why don’t you tell us the reason your show was taken from you?”, said Hans, gazing at him icily.
“Oh, easy, easy. I take it you’ve known each other previously”, Marcela said, trying to clear the atmosphere.
Alan just waved his hand dismissively.
The Major changed the slide on the wall and they all froze gaping.
A picture of a submarine was displayed, half of which was buried in a sand dune. Its nose was emerging from the sand, slightly tilted to one side. Everybody watched in amazement, since they would never have imagined such a view.
Norman looked around the room and after satisfying himself that this time he had their undivided attention, went on calmly:
“At the moment we are in a state of 4th A degree of emergency, classified according to category APAUO.”
“Can you say it in English, please, sir?” Michael asked, casting a glance to the others to see if they did not understand too.
“Abnormal Phenomena of Alien or Unidentified Origin. In this case – 4th A degree.”
“What Aliens?” Alan pricked his ears.
“What is 4th degree?” Marcela was completely at a loss.
As a typical military person Norman started reciting the code:
“First degree: Observing from a distance unidentified objects on the ground or in the air.
Second degree: Visual contact with a proven extraplanetary form of non-alive matter. Third degree: Physical contact with micro- or macro-organisms of non-humanoid type. Fourth degree: Verbal contact or contact on informational level with alien intelligence.
A: Level of communication – social and/or scientific.
B: Level of communication – emotional.
C: Level of communication – sexual contact.”
“Which means we have here rational contact with real aliens?” Alan was already writing in his head the script for the TV show.
“Come on, people, you are serious scientists, there’s no way you can believe in some little green men! Sir, this is some kind of joke, isn’t it?”, Michael addressed Norman, who ignored the interruption and went on with a calm voice. At the same time there was an image projected on the wall of empty sand dunes and the sun high in the sky.
“The picture you see was made ten days ago. While this one”, the same dunes appeared but this time with the half-buried corps of the boat, “dates from three days ago. Then the satellite data indicated the appearance of a large object in this region. We located it and made numerous pictures from the stratosphere. You will understand our surprise when we found out it was a submarine and a very real one at that, of which there was no trace only a week ago.
“After the necessary political and organizational actions by our governments we were granted full access to the object and complete cooperation by the Egyptian authorities”, the Major went on. “This is an international operation with the participation of the USA, the European Union with two scientists and Russia. I was appointed in charge of the mission and my boys will be responsible for the security of your team.
“Do you tell me Allen is a part of the team too? I thought you had called him for TV coverage”, Hans said.
Smith was not impressed by the Professor’s remark and went on:
“The science team comprises Dr. Rosenstein, PhD in Mathematics, Mr. Alan Parker, previously having served on a submarine, Miss Marcela Tarantino, a biologist, Mr. Michael Stevens, a history undergraduate, Dr. Sergey Radlichenko, a nuclear physicist. I and Colonel Ivanov from the Russian secret service are in charge of military matters. Please, welcome our partners.