Blackstar, p.21
BlackStar, page 21
She wrote herself a note to fill Eller in on the latest developments when she talked to him next. One thing was sure, she was going to have to wait for him to call. Wherever he was, she couldn’t get a signal through. His cell phone recording said that he was out of the service area.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- GROOM LAKE -
The dinner with General Devin was amicable but strained. You did not have to be a genius to feel the hostility just below the surface. Devin was a man used to getting his own way and having total autonomy. Now he was going to have to deal with Eller, and it was definitely a burr in his shorts.
Raymond had driven back to his quarters after the dinner and re-read the files supplied by the White House staff. He wanted to make as few blunders as possible. After dressing the next morning, he drove over to the main base mess hall. People seemed to avert their eyes whenever he would look at them. They were trying to size him up. He was sure that rumors had already circulated as to who he was and why he was here.
At breakfast he intentionally sat down at a table that was almost full. The conversation died immediately. He took a few bites before saying anything to those seated near him. It was a typical military mess hall. The standard long tables with laminated tops, fixed bench seating and cheap silverware continued to be the norm. One thing was different; the plates were real and so was the glassware.
“Hi, my name is Raymond Eller. What do you guys do around here?” he asked.
“Dr. Taylor Dristan,” the man to his left waived, “Mr. Eller, before I say too much, we have been told to keep our mouths shut about what goes on here in our little world. We have all signed confidentially statements and they are in our files.”
“Doctor. I understand that. I assume it was General Devin that said that, right?”
“I would rather not answer that,” he said.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am here because the President of the United States sent me. I have the highest clearance authorized by the President. Certainly higher than any of you I would suspect. I have been briefed on every project currently under development. That includes the CIA projects as well as all others. You may be unaware, but General Devin now reports directly to me, and I report to the President. When I ask you what you do, I would appreciate a straight answer. Is everyone clear on that?” he said, shoveling a large bite of scrambled eggs into his mouth and downing it with a drink of strong coffee.
Heads nodded around the table and a murmur of acknowledgement.
“Now, Dr. Dristan, what do you do around here?”
“Well sir, I was working on the Su–11. I am one of the engineers. Specifically, I work on the skin of the ship. The tiles.”
“Has a determination been made as to what caused the crash? The last report I got said it could be a combination of factors including pilot error or tile failure.”
“The jury is still out on that. It could not have been just one or two tiles that failed. It would take a whole block before it would cause enough damage to result in the destruction of the vessel,” the doctor said.
“Excuse me,” a young looking woman asked.
“Certainly. You are?”
“Dr. Betty Sanders. I worked on the advanced stealth capabilities of the 11,” she said, dropping the Su from the name.
“Dr. Sanders, nice to meet you. What would you like to ask me?”
“Why are you really here?”
“Nice and direct. I have no problem with that. The President wants a full update of everything that transpires here at Groom Lake or whatever your name for the place is this month. He does not have the time or the inclination to learn about all of the projects personally. I am the person he has designated to be his eyes and ears. If you’re worried about my being here to see if funding should continue for your projects, quit worrying. This is not about funding or cutbacks,” he informed.
He could almost feel a collective sigh of relief. They had been worried that he was here to report on what project should get funding and which should be eliminated. Now that it was cleared up, they could breathe again.
“Thank Mr. Eller. In that case, I don’t think you will have any problems asking any of us about what we are trying to accomplish. How much do you know about the 11?”
“Just what I read in the briefing and what I know about the crash of the prototype,” Raymond replied.
“Then let me elaborate. The Su-11 is our next leap into space. It can be launched like a regular plane but it has the capability of breaching the earth’s atmosphere and going into space without all of the complicated support equipment. It can hold up to twenty crew members and stay in space indefinitely, food being the only limiting factor. It can link to the space station or operate independently. The cargo space can hold roughly 125 tons. Calculations indicate it could hold more, but for now we are working on the safe side. The 11 has been into space five times without a major flaw. Not one major system has ever malfunctioned. The stealth capabilities are many times more advanced that any radar station in the world. It can launch and return without anyone being able to detect it, even if they know the flight path in advance,” she explained.
“Very impressive. What is its real primary purpose? Not the politically correct answer, the real one he said.”
They all exchanged glances.
“What do you mean?”
“I may not be a rocket scientist like many of you are, but I can certainly see no reason to build a shuttle with stealth capabilities. Not unless…”
“Unless it was used to deploy other items that we didn’t want anyone to know about,” one of the other men said.
“Yes. Especially spy satellites or even weapons,” Raymond said, finishing the last of his coffee.
“It has been a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure I will be seeing all of you again very soon,” he said excusing himself.
He could hear feel the eyes on his back as he went out the door. He got in the Hummer and after looking at the map, headed for the S-4 facility. He had only gone about a mile when a white Jeep Cherokee came racing up behind him with flashing lights. He slowed down to let it go around him but as soon as it passed him it slowed down, forcing him to break. Two military MP’s got out of the car, one holding a semi-automatic at his side and the other taking a position up by the passenger door with a shotgun.
“Sir. Can I ask what you’re doing on this road?”
“Sure. I’m headed to the S-4 facility. This is the correct road isn’t it?”
“I need to see your ID,” he said. Raymond could see his own reflection in the man’s sunglasses.
“No problem. I’m Raymond Eller. Director of Homeland Security and now Director of Area–15.”
“Yes sir. Please remain in the vehicle,” he said, heading back to the car with is ID badge.
He said something to the other man and then he got in the car and Raymond could see him talking on the microphone. The MP on the passenger side never took his eyes off of him or lowered the shotgun. It was only 8:15 a.m. and the air was already starting a steady climb in temperature. The MP in the car got out and walked back.
“Sir, General Devin said he did not know you were going to come out here on your own. It was his understanding that you would wait until you knew the area better. He requests that we escort you back to the main facility.”
Raymond didn’t respond immediately. He tapped his hands on the steering wheel.
“Sir?” the MP said.
“Son, I want you to tell the general that I intend to go to S-4. Now, you can either show me the way or I will go on my own. Either way, I will go.”
“I can’t tell him that.”
“I suggest you do. That badge says ULTRA TOP SECRET on it. I can, and will, go anywhere I want on the facility. Now you go tell the general I said that.”
The MP stayed still, moving his trigger finger back and forth over the side of the trigger guard. Finally, he turned and walked back to the car. A few minutes later he came back, this time with his gun in the holster.
“The general says that we should show you the way for your own safety. If you wouldn’t mind, please follow us. You may want to drop back some so that all the dust doesn’t blow up in your face,” he said.
“Thank you. My badge please?”
“Yes sir,” he said handing it back to him.
Raymond waited until they were several hundred yards ahead of him before he drove off. It was easy to follow them from the long dust trail they left.
Fifteen minutes later they arrived at the base of a mountain. He could just make out the entrance and the hanger doors in the side of the rock.
The MP circled around his car and said, “This is it sir. Swipe your card over there by the door. I told the guards you were coming. It will let you enter. Someone will come and take the car into the parking facility.”
“Thank you,” Raymond said as the MP saluted and drove off.
He got out and walked over to the door that had both the texture and coloring of the surrounding mountain. He swiped his card and heard a loud click. He pulled the door open and once again was met with a refreshing wave of cool air. The first thing he encountered was a large window with two armed guards.
A drawer slid out and one of the men said, “Please place your car keys and your badge inside. Sign the sheet with your name, rank and time in. Then state your name for the voice print recognition system.”
Raymond did as instructed and put DIRECTOR for rank. The two men looked at it and returned his badge through the drawer. Another door opened and he walked into a huge hanger bay.
A man in a white coat greeted him, “You’re Mr. Eller. The general called and asked me to meet you and show you around on Level–1,” he said pleasantly.
“I appreciate that. You are?”
“Sorry. I always forget to introduce myself. Dr. Bruce Lawrence.”
“Dr. Lawrence. Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine. Now, what would you like to see?”
“Everything. I want to see everything there is down to the broom closet.”
“Oh dear. Well, I see you have a Level–9 clearance so I suppose it will be alright. I do not have that kind of clearance. I can only escort you to Level–6. I guess we can start in Bay-1,” he said leading him to another door.
“Do you have any idea what’s in the bay?” he asked.
“No, but I guess I’m about to find out,” Raymond said as the doctor opened the door.
Even though the President had hinted at some of what he was going to find there was nothing like reality, he still wasn’t ready for what he saw. The spacecraft was right in front of him. He blinked once and shook his head. It was true. It was all true. Just looking at it he knew it was not from this planet.
“Oh my God,” he whispered, his knees almost buckling.
“Yes. Most of us felt that way the first time we saw it. It changes everything doesn’t it?”
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Raymond repeated.
“Come, let me show you what we do here,” the doctor said.
Raymond followed in a bit of a daze. While the doctor was explaining the various functions and tests they were conducting, only half of his brain seemed to be functioning. The rest was trying to come to grips with the immense implications of this. The President had been right, it was beyond comprehension. Doctor Lawrence led him from one bay to another.
Each discovery was like a new jolt. The one that they had retrieved from Aztec was mammoth in size. It could hold twenty or more people it was estimated, according to the doctor. He then corrected himself and said twenty aliens. It was almost dark by the time they had finished seeing everything on Level–1.
He couldn’t even remember eating lunch but he must have. He wasn’t particularly hungry. When he was ready to leave, they brought his Hummer to him and he just sat in it, letting his mind try to grasp the implications of it all. He sat and watched as the sun started its descent toward the mountain tops but it was like he was transfixed. He couldn’t seem to get the will to start the car and drive.
He had planned to visit all levels and now realized it would be impossible to even get through the first few in less than a week. Finally, he realized that he needed to get back, he did not want to try to make it after dark. He quickly scanned the map and started out to the main base.
The general sat at the main security post, watching as Eller started the Hummer and put it into gear. Well, now he knows for sure, he thought. With the BlackStar up on the Hump, there was no way he could stumble across it. It would remain there until he left. Let the bastard look around until his eyeballs fell out. Then he could make his little report back to the President. Other than the real reason for the Su–11 and the BlackStar, he had nothing to hide.
He hoped the damned aliens didn’t suddenly decide to drop in. It wouldn’t be a critical thing, but it wasn’t necessary for the President to know that we were in contact occasionally. Then he would want to know more. No, it would not be good for Eller to witness that, especially after the last visit.
He was still trying to figure out if they were angry because of the weapon or something else. It had to be the test firing of the BlackStar but how in the hell could they know from 41 light years away?
It wouldn’t matter much once he had the thing in the air. They could get as mad as they wanted. If they got too pissed, he would aim the BlackStar at them and poof, no more aliens. At least from that planet. With this weapon we would be invincible. The feeling of power swept through him once again.
“Base, Eye-5. Subject made a wrong turn but backtracked and is going in the correct direction.”
“Roger Eye–5, Base out.”
Dumbass can’t even follow a map, Devin thought. Maybe he should let him get lost and let nature take care of him. Unfortunately that might pose a risk too. Screw him, he thought, I’m sitting here when I could be over at the club having a good dinner and some fine whiskey.
“I’m out of here. Make sure this yahoo gets back to his quarters okay." Devin said, jerking his thumb toward the screens around the room.
“Will do, general.”
These were his people. They would only do what he said. That little pissant was in his backyard now and no one would tell these men what to do except him. They were totally loyal and Devin had gone to great lengths to ensure that loyalty. When push came to shove, they would stand behind him, of that he was certain.
He walked out in the rapidly cooling night air. The sun was setting rapidly now. In five or six more minutes it would be down and then the temperature would drop even more. He decided to walk to the club and order a big fat T-bone.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- HOMELAND SECURITY HQ -
It was five days before Sarah received a call from Eller. She wasn’t worried, but could use his input about a few things. She was actually glad when he finally did call.
“Raymond, nice to hear from you,” she said.
“Yes. I thought I should check in,” he said.
She frowned, it was Raymond but something was different.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“I’m fine. A little overwhelmed by everything going on but I’m fine,” he said.
His voice was dry and had no spark to it. Nothing like the way he usually sounded. Sarah was worried that something might have happened to him and he couldn’t say anything.
“Is there anything you need?” she asked.
“I was going to ask you the same question. Do you need anything from me?”
“I have a couple of details that I could use your expertise with,” she admitted.
“Go ahead, shoot,” he said.
She went over a short list of items that she wasn’t sure how he wanted handled. His answer was essentially the same each time. Do whatever you think is best or whatever you feel is right.
“Are you sure you’re doing alright?” she asked when she got to the end of her list.
“Really, I’m fine. Just a lot to do. Look, I can’t complain, I volunteered for this. You on the other hand were drafted. I need to be giving you the pep talk,” Raymond said, trying to force some humor into his voice.
“I wasn’t the only one drafted. You can say what you like but I know how the President gets volunteers. They are more like drafteers, sort of a combination of volunteer and draftee,” she said.
“Drafteers. I like it. It’s more accurate than draftees. Look, I need to get back to it. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, just don’t wait so long to call if you feel the need. I won’t take it personally, honest. I can’t call you. Is there something wrong with your cell phone?” Sarah asked.
“No, they have a system here that blocks all incoming and outgoing signals that are not of a specific frequency range. Cell phones don’t operate in that range,” he told her.
“That explains a lot, I'll wait to hear from you then,” she replied.
“Oh, before I forget, how are you and Laura doing?”
“She is sullen, but doing her work. That’s all I require from her,” she said.
“Good woman. I’ll be in touch,” he said, and hung up.
She looked at the receiver for a second before hanging up. Geez, had the pod people from outer space taken over Raymond? She chuckled at the thought. Almost as soon as he hung up her phone rang again. It was Willis.
“What’s up?”
“I think we have a line on our mysterious surveillance team,” he told her.
“Excellent. Who are they and where are they from?”
“We were able to follow one of the off duty teams going back to Georgetown Guess who has their offices in that area?”
“EG & E Inc.”
“Exactly. EG & E. We tailed them back to the building but didn’t want to press our luck by going inside,” Willis said.
