CHARACTER PROFILES

An examination of the characters who made this story a classic A personal perspective from Richard Furness

John Loengard
played by: Eric Close
(appears in episodes 1-19)
(The voice of the present day John was provided by Gregory Harrison)

“My name is John Loengard. This program is being presented as fiction to protect those fighting in the resistance, but I will tell you the truth now, if you will listen.”

John Loengard fulfils a dual role as both narrator and protagonist of Dark Skies, the one constant in an ever-changing world, our anchor in the turbulent waters of this story. Like us, John arrives in Washington knowing absolutely nothing of the truth behind the facade of normality which is 1960s America and, just as we do, he slowly comes to realise that very little is exactly what it appears to be, his character growing along the way and wondering, like songwriter James Taylor, if where he’s been is worth the things he’s been through.

On the face of it John seems to have everything going for him as he prepares to take his “first real job” on the staff of his home town Congressman, Charles Pratt. He’s handsome, athletic, intelligent and lucky enough to have found a girlfriend willing to set up home with him even though they aren’t married, a situation she seems more content with than he is. Two things stop us resenting his apparently limitless good fortune, the pure and unselfish love he feels for Kimberly and his ingenuous, good-natured way of dealing with others. What you see with John Loengard is always exactly what you get.

John is twenty-four years old when the story proper begins, hailing from a moderately prosperous farming family in California’s Central Valley, and having inherited a highly developed sense of moral values during his upbringing. The desire to see truth and justice, honesty and integrity in all areas of society are what attract him to John F Kennedy’s vision of a “New Frontier” and stimulate his interest in politics. His expectations know no limits – he truly believes that one day he could be sitting behind that desk in the Oval Office, and if, as Kim remarks, he never knows “when to quit” then wasn’t that just the sort of dogged determination which he’d need to show if he was to make a career for himself on Capitol Hill?

Yet John is certainly no dour puritan, fitting into the surfing set on Santa Monica beach, a stone’s throw away from UCLA, with ease. After his graduation he tells us that he couldn’t wait to get to Washington but always dreamed of returning to southern California, his spiritual home and the scene of the happiest days of his life, when just to breathe the air was its own joyous reward.

How his hopes and dreams begin to topple down around him after his investigation into Project Blue Book brings him into conflict with Majestic-12 and the alien Hive is a story so familiar that it seems pointless to go over it in detail, but all the same John’s reactions to the events between December 1961, when he first encounters Frank Bach, and October 1962, when Kim is abducted and implanted, are worthy of examination.

The most far-reaching decision he makes during this time is to tell Kim nothing about his terrifying experience on the way back from New Hampshire, figuring that there’s little point in bothering her with a problem he doesn’t understand himself. Later, once Bach has indoctrinated him into Majestic almost against his will, John knows that if he disobeys the order to tell no-one on the outside the things he’s discovered that day in February 1962 he’ll be placing Kim in very real danger; not only that, but to reveal the full truth might well destroy the childlike innocence which is what he loves most about her. At the very least she’d worry herself sick every time he left the house.

John tells us he became adept at leading this double life, but the truth is he was never cut out to be a Majestic agent, as is amply demonstrated by the lie he told his office before being sent to Idaho on his first assignment. Pratt checks out his story straight away, resulting in Bach’s decision to render his newest operative “untouchable” by blackmailing the Congressman and ensuring that John’s card is well and truly marked. It’s difficult to be certain, but everything points to this incident as the pivotal moment in John’s life – Pratt, who of course was under alien control, saw John’s abduction as a way of ridding himself of this thorn in his side, and the rest is history.

In the aftermath of Kennedy’s assassination, with John forced to flee Majestic and the Hive whilst at the same time determined to expose the truth to a sceptical world, two major developments in his character may be noted. The first is apparent right from the start, as he attempts to use Majestic’s tactics against them by shooting up his beloved ’57 Chevvy in Oklahoma, sounding and sometimes acting in a way Bach might even have approved of in Las Vegas and Fresno. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” he tells Kim after the couple decide to allow Howard Hughes to go on believing that the gamblers fleecing the Desert Inn casino are part of a Communist conspiracy. Approaching the Loengard family home, Kim asks John how much of the truth he intends to reveal to his parents, to which the reply “only what they need to know” comes swiftly and without the slightest trace of irony.

Despite all this John manages to retain the essential humanity which is the core of his being. Bach may have him abducted and taken to Vietnam on an operation where his survival is “a real long shot” but he cannot leave him to die there. Just days later he plunges into the beam of light which is about to transport little Monica Gresham into a flying saucer without a thought for his own safety. Even Kim’s loss to the Hive fails to crush his spirit entirely, witness the broad smile on his face as he looks upon the baby girl recently delivered to George and Ruby Thomas, or the time he finds for Ben Kendall in Berkeley when most of us would have simply told him to get lost.

The second, more insidious change which came over John results in his quest becoming an obsession. It’s first noted by Tug Barrow in Chiliwack – “You have the look of a hunter. I should be afraid of you” – but it’s only when faced with Kim’s request that they attend her sister’s wedding rather than travel to Socorro to investigate an alleged UFO sighting that it begins to affect his judgement. He later admits that all those months on the road had sapped her immense reserves of inner strength but he clearly has no idea of the real torment she’s going through. Significantly, after their temporary separation, Kim begins to play a much more independent role, having learned how to pick locks by the time the two of them arrived in Mississippi, and I can’t imagine her mother showing her how to do that!

John’s experiences before the Warren Commission and in Vietnam drive him to a point where he’s prepared to consider any way, no matter how far-fetched, to present the truth to the world. At Bent Creek he can see no alternative but to rejoin Majestic and tries to rationalise his decision to Kim by telling her that sooner or later Bach will make a fatal mistake and that other members of the organisation will come round to their point of view, conveniently forgetting that in seventeen years nothing like that has ever come close to happening.

It’s only natural for John to feel guilt over Kim’s loss, but in all honesty he cannot really be expected to take any of the blame. As Bach told him, protecting her from the Hive was a virtual impossibility, and Steele’s attempt to implicate John in Majestic’s warmongering policies wouldn’t have cut any ice with her had she not been severely traumatised by the kidnapping of her new-born child and in a state of extreme emotional disorientation due to the re-grown ganglion. Juliet’s later accusation that it was his own fault that Kim went over to the enemy seems designed to provide a channel to release his anger and frustration rather than anything else, and of course she has her own reasons for wanting him to consign her memory to the past.

After Kim’s defection John becomes, in his own words, “the perfect Majestic agent”, though he never loses sight of the fact that this is only a means to an end in his desire to free his son from what he sees as captivity. He appears to have become resigned to Kim’s loss fairly early on – “If I can get through to her I can get my son back” – and the readiness with which he accepts Juliet’s advances showed how much he wants to put Kim out of his mind.

Easier said than done. The typical “’60s relationship” he admits to sharing with Juliet is very much a one-sided affair, and there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that if a way had been found to perform a successful eviction of Kim’s ganglion he would have devoted the rest of his life to her, even if the operation resulted in her becoming as comatose as the captured gray. That much is evident from the effect the photographs he stumbles upon in Chernobyl have upon him, and his reaction when he finally finds his son aboard the Hive mother ship.

The way John copes with the distressing events he was forced to suffer is a lesson for us all. He’s far more than the hero of a fascinating story, a metaphor for humanity’s resilience in the face of apparently insurmountable odds and the embodiment of the basic goodness within our souls. To me John Loengard was a friend, someone who was capable of inspiring me to know who I am and accept that as the best of all possible things, but more than that he taught me to appreciate what I have, for it is so easily lost. His resolve helped me to cope with Kimberly’s loss, and there can be no finer testament than that to the debt I owe him. Here’s to you and Ray, John. I hope one day you can both look back and savour your victory over the Hive.

Kimberly Sayers
played by: Megan Ward
(appears in episodes 1-17, 19)

One of the many wonderful things about Dark Skies is the number of levels at which it appears to work. Unlike most other programmes in the SF genre, viewers react to the story and the characters in markedly different ways. For some the struggle between John Loengard and Majestic must take centre stage, with Kim Sayers a supporting player who turns (or is turned, depending upon your point of view) against humanity, a plot development one correspondent to a British TV magazine described as “interesting”. Others, including so-called professional critics, have ignored Kim altogether, which suggests that they are either entirely devoid of anything remotely resembling compassion or that they are writing from a position of ignorance, having seen fit to base their judgements upon a few episodes chosen at random from the early part of the series. I can forgive whoever it was summed her up as “a bit of a babe” but the cretin who thought she was “as dull as dishwater” may already be beyond redemption.

The main question which has to be asked about Kim is not why she chose to abandon her humanity – that much is obvious – but how she came to be in the position of having to make such a decision in the first place. In examining the various factors which led to the impossible situation she found herself faced with, namely a straight choice between her new born child and John, it’s hard to believe that the Kim Sayers we knew in The Awakening would have settled for anything less than both. Something has changed, and it’s got nothing to do with the regrown ganglion in her head or the revelation that Majestic has deliberately escalated the conflict in Vietnam for financial reasons. In order to discover what made Kim give up the struggle it’s necessary to travel back to Washington DC on October 3rd 1961 and watch her arrival with John, this time armed with a little background information. We’ll find even at this early stage that there’s a great deal more to this young woman than meets the eye.

What we can see at first glance is both captivating and enchanting. Kim is certainly no statuesque beauty, being somewhat below average height and with features which are appealing rather than striking, but her warm smile and the natural charm with which she is blessed are more than enough to explain why John fell for her so completely. As the series progresses the list of those smitten is regularly added to, the attraction invariably platonic rather than physical – Ty Yount, Jim Morrison, even the captured alien gray which felt “betrayed” by her in the end, but most remarkably Juliet, who is won over seconds before the Hive take Kim from her hospital bed in Los Angeles, and who prevents her being gunned down in Oakland after she has crossed over to the enemy.

Looking a little more closely, however, it becomes clear that Kim Sayers is not quite as ingenuous as she might appear. Her observation that their landlord won’t ask too many questions about their marital status as long as the rent is paid on time is surprisingly cynical for a practising Catholic who comes from a family reputable enough to warrant a substantial column in the local Denver newspaper when her sister Andrea’s engagement is announced. She can refuse John’s rather less than romantic proposal in the certain knowledge that she can change her mind any time she wishes to. Later, John refers to her procurement of a position in the First Lady’s office as “another ruthless power grab”, suggesting that she has used her considerable charms to influence people many times in the past.

After Kim has encountered Congressman Pratt, had her row with John, been abducted, implanted and given an apparently successful ART it is crystal clear that something has gone missing from those bright eyes. The vast reserves of inner strength she is forced to call upon to survive her ordeal have done their job, but at the cost of her smile – the vivacious girl who fools Carolyn Bach into believing she is a substitute teacher who has lost her way is no more than a very good actress, and although the completion of the delivery of the Roswell artefact into John F Kennedy’s hands cheers her up enough to cause her to bring up the subject of marriage, the devastating events surrounding the President’s assassination inflict permanent damage.

A noticeable feature of this second phase of Kim’s character development is the gradual way she builds up her independence, beginning with her offer to climb through the narrow window in Jack Ruby’s club. Then she gingerly picks up the gun from the floor as she takes charge in Denver, and is eventually able to operate on her own initiative in Mississippi and Los Angeles. She knows that at any time the Hive or Majestic might take John from her, in which case it will be up to her to carry on the struggle alone. Of course, when that eventuality finally comes about she is far from ready for it, but before the disillusionment of the Warren hearing she performs better than might be expected from someone with no formal training whatsoever.

Of course that’s all on the surface – what’s really going on in her mind is something far more profound. The evidence is there in almost every episode from Mercury Rising to The Warren Omission, that this is an outwardly calm, brave young woman who is tormented inside. Homeless, almost friendless, unable to confide in her family, deprived of even the hope of a solution to the mess she and John find themselves in, her dream of being able to bring up their children in a secure environment a distant fantasy, Kim soldiers on, kept going by one thing and one thing alone, her enduring love for her partner. The scene in Hostile Convergence when she allows John to get his own way and visit Socorro is significant for the way she places his feelings before her own, only making the decision to leave him behind once she knows he has Jesse Marcel to assist him in his endeavours.

Three separate blows conspire to wear down her resistance and ensure that she will be in no state to fend off the effects of the ganglion when it begins to grow back. The first of these is the discovery in Las Vegas of the residual alien tissue in her head, which she stoically promises to use against their enemies, though it must have taken all her will-power not to give up at this point. Next there is the abduction of the little boy she and John have rescued from Majestic’s clutches, who would have given her a fresh sense of purpose and whose loss shredded what remained of her heart. Finally Bobby Kennedy’s betrayal takes away the only hope she and John have that they can expose the conspiracy by legitimate means – when Kim snatches the money offered by Barrett on Kennedy’s behalf, and which John has refused on principle, this is the action of a woman who has decided enough is enough.

From then until the terrible scenes in Oakland we see Kim’s humanity eroded in fits and starts as the ganglion makes its presence felt, a kind of saltation which only becomes truly apparent in the Hive laboratory in Watts, but which goes a long way towards explaining the actions she takes when she learns that Majestic have taken John and probably sent him to his death. Maybe holding Bach’s wife at gunpoint is simply Kim’s way of dealing with one loss too many – it’s certainly not possible to condemn her too harshly for what she does – but coming so soon before her link with the captured gray is confirmed, it makes you wonder.

This gradual disintegration of her personality, reaching a climax in the episode Both Sides Now, where she appears to be in a state of bewilderment for much of the time, is not an easy thing to analyse. She herself clearly has no idea what is happening to her until the moment the Hive come for her in Los Angeles. After that her only concern is the well being of her baby, and if it means allowing the alien inside her to gain control then so be it. One of the supreme ironies of Dark Skies is that Kim’s decision to cross over and become one with the alien mind is made out of a pure, elemental love, one which could almost be said to define our species, and which those fighting for our survival, John Loengard excepted, appear to have lost completely.

When Kim reappears in her incarnation as one of the alien Hive it’s tempting to think, as Juliet does, that she is, to all intents and purposes, dead. To my mind this is a gross over-simplification. The woman who charms her way into William Paley’s TV network as a secretary retains far too much of Kim’s personality to allow the conclusion that she has been obliterated, and although John can find nothing left of the girl he loved this is only because her attitudes and values have been changed so much that he fails to recognise her. Juliet’s statement seems to be designed to encourage John to let go of her rather than a proven fact – if Kim retains any memory of her past then she’s still Kim, no matter how she views her former self.

By the time the events in Bloodlines are described Kim has been a member of the alien Hive for almost two years. The sad but inevitable conclusion is that we will never again know the lovely girl we first met in Washington so long ago, but then again there have been so many unexpected twists in her story that who can really say for sure that she’ll never find her way back? Maybe it’s not the answer, but whether or not the question is asked at all which is the important thing here.

Without wishing to second-guess the series’ creators, to my mind one of three things could happen to Kim. The least likely outcome is that a way will be found to perform an eviction which will return her to humanity; this, in view of the emotional impact her crossover had during Season One would also be the least satisfactory outcome and entirely unworthy of the series. A second possibility is that she manages to gain a measure of control over the creature inside her which results in a gradual erosion of the Hive’s ability to influence her thoughts and actions, but whether that would mean she regained her original personality is extremely doubtful. The third and perhaps the most likely part she will play in the continuing story is as a recurring villainess who serves as a constant reminder of the magnitude of the stakes we are playing for – mind you, many more episodes as tense as To Prey In Darkness and I’ll need a cardiac arrest team permanently on stand-by.

Despite the many words I have written about Kim Sayers since Dark Skies ended its run in the summer of 1997, I still find it impossible to sum up her character in a way which does her justice. To the best of my knowledge there has never been anyone quite like Kimberly, certainly in the field of TV drama and quite possibly in the whole of Western literature. Her fate takes the concept of tragedy to an altogether new level given that there was no inherent flaw in her nature to explain her desertion of humanity’s cause, and that in addition it seems unlikely that there exists any hope of redemption for her. All I can say for sure is that along the way Kim Sayers taught me the real meaning of the verb “to love” and for that reason I can never, ever forget her.

Frank Bach
played by: J T Walsh
(appears in episodes 1-4, 6-9, 11-19)

The man Juliet Stuart describes as perhaps the most powerful in the world is not all that imposing a figure unless he is seen resplendent in his US Navy Captain’s uniform. Despite a fastidious approach to personal hygiene he often appears slightly dishevelled, a stocky, lumbering figure dressed in a three-piece suit that has definitely seen better days. Overweight, and exhausted by long hours and extensive travelling, he has the look of a man who is fast reaching the limit of his endurance in the long battle he has been chosen to fight.

Bach’s motives in this story are clear and simple: there is a threat to humanity and therefore to the security of his country, which he has dedicated his life to protecting. When he is put in charge of “cleaning up” the Roswell incident by none other than President Truman himself, Bach immediately knows how he must proceed in his task. The elimination of the alien presence is the sole objective, to which all other considerations must play a subordinate rôle; neither his nor anyone else’s feelings have the slightest relevance, and every means may be used to produce the desired end, even cold-blooded murder. Using blackmail to persuade Air Force Intelligence Officer Jesse Marcel to change his story is just the beginning.

In many ways Bach and Majestic-12 are inseparable, the organisation’s ethos and modus operandi having been inspired by his leadership. This is not a man who sits behind a desk giving orders all day – if a field operation is important enough he will be found leading it. The wreckage in Vietnam must not fall into the hands of a foreign power so he goes there himself, suffering torture at the hands of the Vietcong; in Chiliwack he is seen eating his breakfast from a mess tin on the hood of a jeep, just like any other soldier.

His is a cold, unemotional world which does not allow any place for sentiment. Some have expressed the opinion that his relationship with John Loengard is similar to that between a father and his son, but this could hardly be further from the truth. Kim, as the first ART survivor, and with some kind of link to the alien Hive, is his “asset”, a specimen which may yield valuable information – John, as far as Bach is concerned, is simply a Majestic agent who happens to be her partner. Once Kim turns Hive she is no longer of any use to him, and in that eventuality she must be killed.

Assertive and manipulative rather than aggressive in his dealings with others, Bach uses his rich, powerful voice to get his own way by refusing to admit that there is anything to argue about. When faced with opposition from General Thompson at Chiliwack, he calmly redefines the situation and states his requirements. “To that end, you will provide…”, going on to list the men and material he needs to complete his operation. Again, in Watts, the Mayor of Los Angeles is understandably reluctant to send a fire truck into the heart of a riot zone – Bach informs him that if he is not given one, he will take one anyway. Whatever the Mayor decides, the outcome will be the same.

Bach’s methods are based on the assumption that the general public are incapable of reacting to the news of an alien invasion without resorting to mass panic and a primitive disregard for civilised values, an opinion which would seem to be borne out by the general lawlessness witnessed during the Cuba crisis. Majestic-12 must therefore remain a secret organisation, accountable to no-one but its own board members, who decide which politicians and high-ranking military personnel are to be made aware of its existence. If they think an incoming President cannot be trusted to deal with the invasion in the manner Majestic thinks appropriate, then he is not told about it, simple as that.

“Need To Know” is Majestic’s unofficial catch-phrase, the answer to every question. “Why wasn’t I informed?” “Because you didn’t need to know.” The inhabitants of this planet, in Bach’s opinion, will not benefit from the knowledge that an invasion is taking place – quite the reverse – so why tell them? The problem is that no mechanism exists to provide any checks or balances outside the twelve board members, who Bach is constantly able to outmanoeuvre until the very last. He himself is certainly no Hitler or Stalin, but Majestic veers uncomfortably close to a totalitarian approach far too often and many of those who lose their lives at its hands are killed on Bach’s direct orders.

That there may be other than a purely military response to the alien threat does not cut any ice with Bach. We will only defeat the enemy by matching their formidable technology and using it against them. This strategy worked against the Germans and the Japanese during World War Two, and until events prove otherwise this is the approach which must be taken while this conflict lasts. A more perceptive mind than Bach’s may have questioned the wisdom of assuming that a race of extra-terrestrial beings would necessarily wage war in the same way humans would, but until John Loengard arrives on the scene no-one appears to show the slightest dissent.

One of the story’s key issues is whether by resorting to methods which can only be described as amoral, if not evil, Majestic and its operatives lose the very humanity they claim the right to protect. They effectively become another Hive, a covert force whose individual members are not important; joining this “very exclusive club” is rarely voluntary and almost always for life – the parallels with the alien collective consciousness are manifold.

There is another side to Frank Bach, although it’s hardly ever shown, and that’s his rôle as a husband and father. As he reads the story of Tom Thumb to his little daughter Jennifer the love and tenderness in his voice are a striking contrast to the manner he adopts at work. No doubt he views the alien presence as a direct threat to his wife and children, and this reinforces his determination to let nothing stand in his way as he leads humanity’s response to the invasion.

Until the scene where he is murdered by Albano, having been stripped of his power and thus rendered a liability to Majestic, Bach’s shadow looms menacingly across almost every scene in Dark Skies from beginning to end. Not a villain in the true sense of the word, his is nevertheless the guiding hand behind most of the events which conspire to work against John and Kim, the latter of whom he never ceases to regard as anything but one of the enemy. Yet such is his commitment to the struggle that in the end we can only despise his methods, not the man himself. That he finally gives his life for humanity’s cause, tormented by his executioner and with the certain knowledge that all his efforts have proved futile, is enough for us to mourn his passing. He did what he thought was his duty, and never shirked from his responsibilities – it’s a fitting epitaph.

Juliet Stewart
played by: Jeri Lynn Ryan
(appears in episodes 12-19)

The barnstorming arrival of the Majestic agent known simply as “Juliet” in The Warren Omission is the signal for a major change in direction for Dark Skies, though of course it was impossible to know that when the episode was first broadcast. What I think most viewers felt on seeing her incapacitate both John and Kim within seconds of her appearance on screen – the former in a most impolite, not to say excruciating manner – was that here was a character capable of grabbing the show by the scruff of the neck and who we definitely didn’t want to be written out after just one episode. On neither count were we to be disappointed.

Jeri Lynn Ryan had been brought in as a mid-season replacement for Megan Ward, who it had already been decided would not finish as “leading lady”, mainly because of the plot developments which were to lead to John and Kim’s separation, and of which we remained as yet unaware. The way this was done was subtle and inventive – at least until Kim’s virtual disappearance from the last two episodes, to my mind a grave misjudgement – but until the end of To Prey In Darkness the way the emphasis on the two female characters gradually shifts in Juliet’s favour is one of the most satisfying aspects of the entire series.

Sassy, sexy, assertive in the extreme and possessed of immense self-belief, Juliet is everything Kim is not. She wouldn’t look out of place in one of the early James Bond movies, a woman who would just as soon put a gun to his head as sleep with him, the archetypal double-agent. It’s no real surprise to find that she’s not everything she appears to be – she’s not exactly a Majestic agent, nor is her name Juliet Stewart – and as for the ultra-confident exterior, well that too may be just an elaborate facade…

Lev Stolnatchky’s wife – soon to be his widow – is in reality an observer, seconded to Majestic by its Soviet equivalent Aura-Z. She’s thirty-five years old but looks ten years younger, with glossy blonde hair framing striking features with high cheek bones and full lips which she accentuates by painting them a deep red. The physical impression she creates is reinforced by her confrontational attitude towards just about everyone she comes across, with the exception of Bach, whose single-minded approach she admires. The aggressive macho stance employed by Albano she has no time for. “It’s called being humane, Phil. You should try it some time.”

Juliet’s relationship with John undergoes a dramatic transformation as the story reaches its conclusion, but what may be just as important is the way she comes to care for Kim. In The Warren Omission she refers to her as John’s “woman”, someone she’s ready to take out if he continues to make waves during the hearing. Her respect for Kim grows after the latter has taken Bach’s wife hostage. Knowing that her own partner is in similar dire straits causes a bond to form between them which is finally cemented during the episode Burn, Baby, Burn when Juliet, reluctantly at first, places her hand on Kim’s swollen stomach as she lies in hospital awaiting the birth of her child. In a moment as tender as any which pass between herself and John, Kim covers Juliet’s hand with her own and giggles as the child kicks; the look upon both womens’ faces abruptly turns more serious and it’s plain to see that there has been a meeting of minds here.

This may be the reason why Juliet prevents Albano from shooting Kim down as she flees their approach in Oakland, but to my mind something else has happened to make her value Kim’s survival. That she is physically attracted to John from the beginning is pretty obvious, but as the two of them begin to spend more time together it develops, on her side at least, into more than that. In Shades Of Gray she tells him about her experience as a child abductee in Moscow, admitting that not even her late husband knew exactly how badly it had affected her, and by the time Kim has been taken by the Hive in Watts she knows him well enough to predict his reaction when it becomes clear that their attempt to rescue her from Steele has failed.

She and John are destined to become lovers, but this is not enough for Juliet, whose tragedy is that she can never possess his heart as long as Kim is alive, and therefore in theory at least capable of being returned to humanity. This is why she attempts to persuade him that the creature inside Kim’s head has to all intents and purposes killed her, and that he has to learn to let go of the past in order to move on. It doesn’t work, however, primarily because the evidence doesn’t fit Juliet’s theory, and the pair of them settle down to what John describes as a typical ’60s relationship. One last unexpected opportunity arises for her to put an end to Kim in San Francisco, but again she hesitates and the moment is gone. Far from freeing John from his memories of her, Juliet suspects that he may never be strong enough to cope with her actual death, especially if she has been the one to do the deed. Besides which, she’s needed for the rest of the story. Sorry Jools.

The only question left unanswered is Juliet’s fate aboard the Hive mother ship, which she has been taken to after clinging to John as he was “abducted” in Ronald Reagan’s place. Left floating as John goes off in search of his son, the experience has caused her to fall into a catatonic state, which is where we must leave her. Whatever happens aboard that ship it’s doubtful she’ll ever be the supremely confident “kick-ass” agent who burst into the story like a force ten gale, but maybe her life has been so full of tragedy already that she’ll shrug it off in no time. I wouldn’t bet my house on it not being the second outcome.

Phil Albano
played by: Conor O’Farrell
(appears in episodes 1-4, 6-19)
(Does not appear in the original version of The Awakening)

Frank Bach’s sardonic, gum-chewing second-in-command was introduced in the re-shot version of The Awakening, but it wasn’t until eight episodes later that we began to discover there was more to Phil Albano than might have been suspected. From the moment he tells Bach that he doesn’t “feel good” about burning down Langston Poole’s church in We Shall Overcome, he gradually develops into a character whose complexity is second only to that of Kim Sayers. Bach and John Loengard may have had diametrically opposed visions of how the conflict against the alien Hive should proceed, but both possessed the absolute courage of their convictions. Albano’s resolve was far less sturdy and finally crumbled after the loss of Kim, though how much this contributed to his decision to betray humanity is open to debate.

Most of his colleagues at Majestic must have regarded Albano as almost unapproachable as they went about their daily routine. His laconic style was occasionally peppered with a dry sense of humour as demonstrated when John was brought into Majestic HQ during the events following Kennedy’s assassination. “If you’re going to do all this work, Loengard, you should’ve stayed on the payroll.” Later, as John was being apprehended outside a corner store prior to being sent off to Vietnam, Albano saw the bottle of bubble-bath he was carrying and suggested he may have discovered “a new way to get a ganglion out”.

In more serious moments he gave the impression that each of his words had been chosen with extreme care. “We’re looking for something similar on a mutual enemy,” he told J Edgar Hoover in Mississippi after presenting him with evidence of his affair with Clyde Tolson, fixing the outraged FBI chief with a gaze of pure steel. This was a man determined to do exactly what was necessary in order to carry out his directive, a point he made crystal clear to William Paley, himself a Majestic board member, when the stolen Roswell footage was about to be broadcast on his TV station’s nightly news show. His cold, unemotional voice contained the unspoken threat that only he stood between you and the full weight of Majestic’s wrath. “I’m giving you the chance to do this the easy way,” his manner seemed to suggest. “Co-operate and everything will be fine – cross me and you won’t know what’s hit you.”

His understanding with Bach bordered on the telepathic, so well did he know how the mind of Majestic’s leader worked, and sometimes he needed only the slightest movement of an eyebrow to tell him how to proceed. Yet if Bach appeared to trust Albano implicitly, he still failed to give him clearance to examine the Roswell wreckage, and it was the best part of a year after John and Kim went on the run before he revealed the “other plans” he had for the couple.

They received precious little sympathy for their plight from him. John Loengard was “a whistle blower”, Kim he would refer to as “Sayers” or “the girl”. A confirmed bachelor, Albano explained his reluctance to involve himself in a relationship by stressing the dangerous nature of his work, though this wasn’t seen by either Bach or Steele as an obstacle to a happy marriage. It may well have been that the contemptuous attitude he showed to women made it impossible for them to remain with him for any length of time, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find someone in his past who he had lost and simply couldn’t replace. It happens.
Things changed in dramatic fashion after Kim found out she was expecting John’s child. Now Albano was full of concern for her welfare, and during his interview with the captured gray in an attempt to discover where the Hive might have taken her he became almost a changed man, his eyes lighting up in childlike wonder as the creature told him it wanted some strawberry ice-cream. When John began to lose control a few weeks later, with Kim still missing, his grave demeanour seemed to indicate that he was just as upset about the way events had turned out as her partner. “She’s important to us too,” he told him, and those words didn’t sound as if they came from anywhere but the heart.

I’ve said on more than one occasion that I have a gut feeling – and that’s all it is – that Albano may have harboured feelings for Kim, and while there’s absolutely no evidence to support this assertion it would go a long way towards accounting for his astonishing decision to offer his services to the Hive. Of course we only have Albano’s word that he went to them voluntarily; it may be that he only wished to torment his former boss still further before firing the shots which ended his life, and yet I don’t believe this to be the case. At some point between November 1965 and August 1966 he lost faith in humanity’s ability to withstand the invasion, but to assume that he simply wished to finish up on the winning side is to underestimate his intelligence, for he had seen with his own eyes what had happened to Kim and Steele, and he must have realised that whatever personal gains he might have made, they would cease to matter to him once he became part of the collective mind.

What if, instead, he saw being taken over as a way to escape the guilt and loss he was feeling after Kim’s defection? Too late he had come to realise her value as the representative of all that is fine and noble in our species. Too late he saw the part Majestic had played in putting her in an untenable position, thus making her betrayal an inevitability. John had Juliet to console him, Bach had a wife and two lovely children to go home to. He had no-one, and now his work, to which he had to all intents and purposes been married, had lost its appeal. Desperately lonely, he must have been susceptible to any suggestion the Hive cared to make. The prospect of a completely fresh start may have been all the alien mind needed to offer him.

Phil Albano was one of the many characters the series gave us who never failed to arouse our interest and whose on-screen presence was captivating episode after episode. The archetypal “Man In Black”, smug to the point of arrogance in his dealings with those unfortunate to cross Majestic’s path, he nevertheless exuded an air of supreme self-belief in the face of a terrifying enemy that turned out to be nothing more than a mask to protect himself from his own inner demons. When they reared up once too often he cracked under the strain, and which of us could honestly say we’d have done any better in those circumstances?

Jim Steele
played by: Tim Kelleher
(appears in episodes 1-5, 8, 11, 15-17, 19)

John Loengard’s nemesis is not a nice man. You wouldn’t want your sister to go out with him, and you wouldn’t trust him with your innermost secrets either. Even before the ganglion which emerges from Grantham’s head attaches itself to Steele’s face and thereby creates a new member of the alien Hive this is someone who clearly loves violence for its own sake, as can easily be seen from his first encounter with “the college boy”. The sadistic way he holds an empty gun to John’s temple and then, turning to see that Bach isn’t looking, delivers a vicious blow to his solar plexus is enough to tell us exactly why he chose to join an organisation like Majestic. Jim Steele is a thug – and proud of it!

There are several reasons why he takes such an instant dislike to John, one of which is his jealousy of the younger man’s good looks. “Tell Romeo not to broadcast his name,” he sneers, “not even on a mic check.” Perhaps more important is the way he sees John muscling in on his position as Bach’s protégé – the news that the new recruit has been chosen to interview Grantham in Idaho an intense source of frustration to him. There can be little doubt that Steele saw himself running Majestic one day and he cannot believe that John doesn’t have similar ambitions.

None of this really matters though, because Jim Steele will always be remembered for his place in this story as the Hive’s main representative, and it’s not so much the man we should be examining as the nature of the alien collective mind itself. What actually happens to someone who is taken over by the Hive? Is the human consciousness replaced by that of the creature inside the host or is something much more subtle going on? Do these hosts even know what has happened to them? These are questions which will only be fully answered after more of the story has been told, but I believe it’s possible to make some informed guesses with the information available after just one season.

Most implantees undergo a take-over phase, during which the ganglion settles inside the amygdala of the human brain stem, the part which mediates our emotional responses. This results in a period of disorientation, varying from individual to individual but usually no more than a few weeks, when the alien presence can be detected using a form of psychological evaluation called the EBE Profile. The affected part of the brain is unable to suppress an instinctive reaction to the tone in which a question is put to the new host, so that if a quite innocuous request such as “Would you remove your coat?” is asked in a terse manner the implantee more often than not will respond angrily. Conversely, if a question is put in such a way as to make the subject feel at ease but is quite clearly nonsensical in content then they will answer as if they have heard something quite normal.

This doesn’t always happen, a notable exception being Clayton Lewis, whose hatred for “coloureds” overcame any emotional scrambling the ganglion caused in his head. Steele appears to have been affected hardly at all, but maybe that’s because his responses to polite conversation were usually unpredictable anyway, so nobody noticed when he went through this phase.

Presumably there came a time when he underwent what Halligan was later to call the “light ball ceremony”, signifying, or so the doctor thought, acceptance of control by the alien consciousness. Langstone Poole in We Shall Overcome tells us that no-one can be forced to “touch the light”, but it seems quite clear that any host reaching this stage has come very close to relinquishing control over their central nervous system, so that they may well discover their hand reaching out towards the glowing ball of light despite all their efforts to hold it back. Clayton Lewis finds his own hand moving in precisely this way, but this seems to act only as a suggestion. The real act of acceptance is always a mental one – nobody ever joins the Hive unless they surrender control voluntarily.

As far as we know, this is an irrevocable step. A kind of energy transfer takes place, blackening the fingers of the new Hive member and beginning a process of physical change which enhances the host’s strength and reactions while reducing their susceptibility to pain and serious injury. Over a considerable period of time this can make for a kind of superhuman, as is evident by the number of times Steele recovers from situations which would have killed an ordinary person. The question is, what becomes of the host’s personality and memories once this process has become complete?

There is ample evidence to prove beyond reasonable doubt that both remain more or less intact. As far as the host’s memories are concerned they remain unimpaired, so that Steele is able to recall the layout of Majestic HQ when he needs to retrieve a file from one of its rooms, and even the combination necessary to unlock the safe containing the key to the filing cabinet which holds the damning evidence linking Majestic’s budget to the escalation of the Vietnam war. Of course Steele was Hive for the best part of two years before he was discovered to be under alien control, but he clearly fooled his wife into believing nothing had changed.

Other so-called “Hivers” appear to have lived perfectly normal lives – Christopher Weatherly Senior, Cassie (the waitress in Socorro) and Ty Yount’s friend and fellow astronaut Augatreux are just three that spring to mind, none of whom could possibly have deceived those closest to them unless they possessed not only the memories but also similar personalities to the time before they became Hive.

The conclusion which best fits the evidence is that the host’s mind is linked to the alien collective consciousness and is controlled by it to the extent that it can be accessed at will. “Jim Steele’s position at Majestic cannot be compromised,” he tells Jack Ruby in the Carousel Club before “strengthening” the man who must kill Lee Harvey Oswald. It’s true that here “Jim Steele” appears to have been replaced by something else entirely, but this is a critical moment in the Hive’s plan and at such times Steele’s consciousness has to be suppressed so that the collective will can be done. At all other times he seems to act naturally, and it can easily be imagined that when he screams “No! Frank, you’re wrong!” as Majestic drag him into the chair in order to perform an ART on him he really believes he’s free of alien influence.

The mental process of acceptance often has the effect of altering a host’s attitudes and values in a direction which will favour the Hive’s overall plan, and it’s here that we must leave Jim Steele and consider the changes in Kim Sayers’ personality once she makes the decision to abandon humanity’s cause. The most shocking is the complete loss of maternal feelings, which the collective mind has edited out of her emotional make-up. It’s a mistake to believe, as Juliet does, that this isn’t really Kim; it most certainly is, but a part of her – the ‘nice’ part – is simply no longer there, or if it is then it’s buried so deeply that there’s little chance it’ll ever surface again.

So far we’ve only learned the merest fraction of all there is to know about the Hive and the enigma that is Singularity. We don’t know why they want to conquer earth or what the significance of the “tenth planet”, which is due to pay us a visit around the year 2000, may be. Until we know more, then most of the above will continue to remain guesswork.

Steele’s relationship with Kim is one of the most enigmatic the series offers us. It appears that he has been given the task of returning her to the Hive and killing John into the bargain, acts for which he makes the most thorough of preparations. Once he has accomplished the former, the main point of which appears to have been the safe delivery of her child to the Mother Ship, the pair of them begin working together as a team and almost certainly as a couple, the way they exit centre stage in Bloodlines holding hands containing no suggestion that this is simply for appearance’s sake. Somehow I don’t think she took him back to Denver to meet her mother though!

As villains go Jim Steele had everything. Repulsive to begin with, the cataract which covered his left eye after his unsuccessful ART and the skin condition he develops on that side of his face make him just about as unattractive as it’s possible to imagine. His voice simply drips malevolence, even when he is attempting to sell us the Hive’s “positive” side at the start of Both Sides Now. “You’ve only known us in battle, as we fought for our survival,” he croons at Kim and although the words themselves are seductive the intent behind them is evil in its purest form. The fate we must assume lies in wait for him as “Charles Manson” seems entirely appropriate, and it would gladden my heart to know that Kim had a part in his betrayal, whatever her motives might have been.

Langston Poole
Played by Roger Aaron Brown
(Appears in “We Shall Overcome”)

Of all the characters who appear in just a single episode of Dark Skies surely Langston Poole, the Hive churchman from Mississippi, is the most important. This is the first time we’ve been given any real insight into the nature and purpose of the alien invasion – Steele having had very little to say apart from enigmatic statements such as “This is just the beginning” or “You’ll find out soon enough” – and if the former Majestic agent appeared largely unchanged after crossing over then Poole, by contrast, seems more like a shell containing a sinister, inhuman intelligence. Look at his face and you are staring into the heart of the Hive consciousness.

Poole is in charge of cultivating Organic Freeze Orbs, the little pods used by the grays to immobilise abductees, in the cellar beneath his church. He’s already got quite a team working away down there, but when he attempts to add white supremacist lawyer Clayton Lewis to his staff, urging him to touch the light and experience the “joys” of Singularity, he finds his victim reacting violently to the colour of his skin, a human trait which intrigues him. He goes on to give us the most priceless piece of information we’ve had so far, that no-one can be forced to join the Hive. “You must want to do it,” he tells Lewis. So that’s why it disappeared when Kim made definite contact in the opening episode – part of her refused to accept control and the alien mind couldn’t assimilate her.

When Lewis decides to confront Poole in his church over its use for registering voters, an even more significant clue as to the nature of the Hive slips out. “The Hive answers to no God. There’s only us,” he whispers. Now this is interesting. The collective mind clearly believes itself to be some kind of ultimate reality, a little like the Hindu Brahman or the “light” described in the Tibetan Book Of The Dead, the Buddhist scripture which exhorts the individual to submerge the illusory ego within its radiance. At the moment of revelation the “self” becomes one with this reality, thus ending all suffering and breaking the cycle of birth and death. It sounds very much like Singularity to me.

Could it be that the Hive is somehow collecting sentient minds, assuming that all intelligence belongs to it? That doesn’t answer the question of the reason for the “throwbacks” but it certainly goes a long way to explaining why practically every host surrenders their humanity sooner or later. Perhaps what they are shown on a subconscious level by the collective mind through the ganglion is so seductive that resistance becomes impossible. What if our current state of individuality is an anomaly, a unique situation which the entropic force called the Hive is here to rectify? What if shared consciousness is the natural order of things and the Hive is simply here to bring us home?

If this were the case problems of morality and individual choice would cease to exist. The well being of the collective is the only “good” that can exist and anything which furthers this end must by definition be desirable. Suffering is a construct of the false ego and will end when Singularity is achieved; therefore bringing new minds into the Hive by whatever means are available remains the priority, and anything which encourages individual thought must be stamped out.

Poole has one more warning for us as he is led away into Majestic custody, where he was no doubt to die on the operating table. Our conflicts will be our undoing, he croons. While we fight among ourselves the Hive will assimilate us until it is too late for us to join forces and defeat our enemy. “Though you deny it we are your every solution.” Chilling words indeed, and if our very humanity rests upon us asserting our individuality and making the right choices as we live out our lives instead of allowing others to think for us, as we so often do, then consider the forces at work in society which are already eroding our capacity for independent thought.

When the world has finally become a giant McDonalds-Disney-CocaCola theme park, when all TV shows are written to a single formula, when all popular music sounds exactly the same as it did ten years ago, when art is rubbished because no-one can be bothered to understand it any more, then we won’t need aliens from outer space to implant us. We’ll have made our own Hive right here on earth, and if there really are any other civilisations out there, you can bet your life we’d have a go at making them just like us. Now where’s that buzzing sound coming from?