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Sunday, the morning after the crash
The town hall was as packed with as many people as a small town like Startere could muster, all insisting to know what happened and brandishing telescopes and newspapers and other assorted things that didn't really have anything to do with the topic at hand. The excitement was building upon itself, causing the crowd to surge and intensify as time went on and even more rumors started flying around. With a little effort, the mayor managed to squeeze through the admittedly quite small crowd to stand behind the short podium at the front of the hall. After banging a comedically-oversized gavel on the podium a few times with no success at calming the really small and actually quite orderly crowd, he had Johnson, Startere's only police officer (who incidentally was also self-appointed), shout into a megaphone to get everyone's attention.
"HEY! EVERYONE LOOK UP HERE AND YOUR QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED!" The megaphone screamed mechanically with every other word and everyone in the building stopped and covered their ears and some screamed.
"Thank you, Johnson." The diminutive mayor cleared his throat and continued, his bushy white moustache shuffling as he spoke, "Fair citizens, over the past few weeks, we have all seen the bright lights flying over our town. And if you haven't seen it, you've surely heard it! I can't imagine how anyone could sleep through that blasted whooshing and whirring and buzzing."
This comment was met with nods and murmurs of agreement throughout the crowd.
"Last night, I decided that enough was enough, so I took matters into my own hands and shot the damned thing down, whatever it was. So today, we are putting together a task force to go investigate the crash."
At this, the crowd started bubbling with activity again as everyone started talking about seeing what that thing was and "giving it a piece of their mind" and such comments. Johnson shouted into the megaphone again and everyone stopped talking again.
The extremely short mayor continued talking. "We are looking for volunteers to come and help us figure out--" The crowd exploded again with statements like "I'll go!" and "Take me!", cutting off the mayor. For a third time, Johnson shouted into the megaphone, the squeals of which were again more effective than Johnson's shouting.
The tiny mayor (who really could easily have been confused for a child if it wasn't for his white hair and wrinkles, I mean come on) continued again, more urgently this time.
"Please know, we don't know what this thing is, so it could be dangerous! We need any volunteers to know this and be willing to charge headlong into danger nonetheless!" A slight, uneasy silence gripped the crowd. "So those who are willing to risk their lives for the sake of curiosity, please come forward and we'll figure out a plan!"
Only three men came forward: Ronnie the general store owner, a gangly man with patchy stubble and a hammer looped into his gray canvas apron; Stewart, Harry's grandfather, a wrinkly old gentleman in a fancy-but-old-fashioned suit; and Hans, the gigantic foreign body builder who nobody knows how he ended up in Startere but who helps with construction and other heavy lifting jobs.
"Oh, and you two, Isaac and Harry. You come, too! You two youngsters are the oldest youngsters in town, and you need to learn how to become men. So you'll be coming with us!" Stewart piped up, pointing at the boys as the crowd dispersed around them.