The Eyes of Tandor, page 13
Focused on its need to discover how members of the humonid universe had detected and turned back the wavefronts sent by the previous Conclave, X pushed the merged probe into the quantum space occupied by humans. There, instead of the great barrier it had feared, X perceived only a fragile network of devices armed with miniscule creatures encircling the planet where the human civilization had taken root. Reassured that this pitiful attempt by humans to defend themselves could be easily overcome, X summoned the power of its merge to push beyond their insignificant barrier to dive deeply into the minds of humans already identified as being both powerful within their society and susceptible to alteration.
Once again, X had to pause as it encountered what appeared to be a general weakening of the determination of its targets to turn away from new ideas that could help their species reach out into space. Research had already begun in areas of science X believed should be forbidden to humans as it might allow them to discover truths governing life in all realities—truths reserved, in X’s view, for Tandorans to use in maintaining control of all sentient life.
Hardening its resolve to bring this troublesome species back under control, X instructed the merge to blanket these known individuals with more powerful resonant frequencies than had ever been used when altering molecular structures in genetic code. Fear of change, of losing control, fear of each other, and fear of the future must emerge as the dominant drivers in the minds of these humans.
As Sern watched the Conclave push its way into the minds of the highest placed humans, it summoned its own forces through the network of the Awakened to quietly pull against the onslaught so that X’s merge found it increasingly difficult to continue their attack as time went on.
When X saw that the merge was near exhaustion and about to collapse, it broke off the invasion and retreated back to the plains of Tandor, furious that it had been unable to reestablish complete control in the humonid universe.
“WEAKLINGS!” it bellowed with such force that all Tandorans cringed before its echoing anger. “WHAT HAS BECOME OF THE COMMUNITY OF KEEPERS IF A SIMPLE ADJUSTMENT OF THE HUMAN CIVILIZATION IS TOO DIFFICULT FOR YOU? WILL YOU SHRINK FROM IMPLEMENTING OUR SACRED PLAN IN THE FACE OF THIS INSIGNIFICANT CHALLENGE? WHERE IS YOUR PASSION? WHERE IS YOUR STRENGTH? AM I NOW THE ONLY TANDORAN WILLING TO POUR ITSELF INTO THE HOLY PURSUIT OF ENSURING THE PLAN BECOMES UNIVERSAL LAW?”
But the Keepers who broke apart from the Conclave were not listening to their leader at that moment. More than spent, they were wounded. Some lay prostrate, in solid form, on the gathering grounds, staring silently into the air. Some flowed about the area, keening their mental pain. Some huddled together to provide comfort to their brethren, hoping that X would allow them to rest now that they had given their all in its service.
Sern and the rest of the Bodywatchers remained near X’s pulsating, bloated form, ready to help if its bulk required support. For some reason, this group did not appear to be as tired or damaged as the other Keepers, something X noted with both satisfaction and suspicion.
“RETURN ME TO MY DOMAIN,” X commanded when its rage began to cool. “WE MUST PLAN OUR NEXT CAMPAIGN NOW THAT WE KNOW WHAT WILL BE NEEDED TO OVERWHELM THE HUMANS. THE TIME FOR RECONNAISSANCE IS PAST. THE TIME FOR WAR HAS ARRIVED.”
As the troop of Bodywatchers retreated with their leader back into its halls of power, Sern silently hoped it could buy its podmates enough time to mount a campaign of their own, one that might open a second front on Tandor itself.
19
Real Time
As Tess assembled her speaking notes on the podium at NASA Goddard’s largest auditorium, she noticed that although the gallery was nearly empty, the main floor was almost full. When the title of her presentation, “DETECTION OF SCHUMANN WAVE STORMS IN 360-DEGREE GEOSYNCHRONOUS ORBITS,” appeared on the large screen behind her, courtesy of a technician giving her a thumbsup in the AV booth at the back of the hall, the lights dimmed and the ambient noise subsided.
“Good afternoon,” Tess began. “I’d like to thank the conference organizers for allowing this last-minute addition to the program. Due to the lateness of the entry, we were unable to provide the usual content summary and source documentation in your conference materials, but my colleague, Dr. Richard Stonger, will pass these out to anyone who raises their hand during the presentation.
“So let’s begin. How many of you know what Schumann resonances are?”
When a scattering of hands shot up, Tess nodded to Stonger to give the hand-raisers a copy of the presentation documents.
“Not most, I see. So for those who did not raise their hands, let me explain.”
As Tess began narrating her carefully crafted slide show, flashing pictures of lightning, satellite networks, and the electromagnetic spectrum on the screen, she noticed a dozen men wearing black suits and dark glasses entering the hall from side doors. As they moved down the outer aisles, she could see some speaking into their wrists while others pressed their fingers against listening devices embedded in their ears.
Tightening her belly to control her rising fear at seeing what she assumed to be “government agents” coming toward her, Tess looked out over the audience to see that heads were turning in the direction of the intruders who, by then, had encircled the audience.
Determined not to be intimidated, Tess lifted her chin and began to tell the audience about the diatomaceous radiation detectors she and her colleagues had developed, when the screen behind her suddenly went blank.
“Hello?” Tess called to the AV booth in the back of the darkened auditorium. “I’m not sure what the trouble is, but can someone hit the lights so I can continue?”
When the ambient lights in the hall came back on, Tess saw that the person formerly running the AV booth was gone, replaced by one of the black-suited men.
Speaking into the microphone on the podium, Tess found that it, too, had been cut off. It was then she saw the black suits moving among the audience members, gathering up the documents Richard had distributed.
When the sound came back on with a piercing whine, a harsh male voice made an announcement to the crowd that was protesting the surrender of materials. “Please proceed to the exit at the back of auditorium. Quickly and quietly, please. Leave your materials and any notes you may have taken with the gentlemen passing among you. Lack of cooperation will result in your being taken into custody,” boomed the speaker.
“Wait a minute!” Tess shouted as loudly as she could over the shuffling of people heading for the exit. “What’s going on here? What are you doing? Who are you?”
Just then, a black suit crept up behind Tess where she was still standing behind the podium.
“Please come with us, Ms. Bailey,” he ordered in a tone that ordered compliance. “It’s for your own protection.”
“Protection from what?” she demanded.
With that, the man applied a paralyzing grip to Tess’s elbow and dragged her with him to the side door of the auditorium where she saw that Richard was receiving the same attention from other black suits.
“Let me go, goddam it!” yelled her friend as he was unceremoniously ushered out of the building and shoved toward a waiting black SUV.
Seeing that her protests were not likely to stop what was happening, Tess jerked her arm away from her abductor and climbed into the back seat of the vehicle to sit beside Richard, who was still complaining loudly.
“Tess, we’re being kidnapped!” yelled the old scientist over the roar of the car engine being revved as a black suit took the front seat.
“Seat belts, please,” the driver said calmly to his two passengers.
“Fuck your seatbelts. We want out of this car right now!” yelled Stonger.
“Buckle your belt, Dr. Stonger. You, too, Ms. Bailey, or I will buckle it for you,” threatened a second black suit riding shotgun.
“Do as he says, Richard,” said Tess, trying to calm her friend. “I don’t think we have much choice in the matter right now.”
“Very wise, Ms. Bailey. As a matter of fact, you don’t.”
As their SUV and several chase cars turned onto the highway, Tess shook her head at Stonger to prevent any further outbursts, wondering where they were being taken, and hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t to some undisclosed location.
***
The conference room in the bowels of CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia looked like every other government conference room Tess had seen. It contained the standard-issue oval table made of polished oak and surrounded by twelve black plastic, ergonomic rolling chairs. But this windowless room felt different. Maybe it was the blank expressions on the faces of the officials sitting around the table or the fact that she was the only woman inside or outside the room, as far as she could tell. Whatever the reason, Tess was getting the distinct impression she and Richard were in a situation you might see in the middle of a spy thriller movie and that the conference room was a set up for the big plot reveal, where the hero and heroine are told either that they’ve been chosen to go on some dangerous mission or that their lives were about to come to an end.
If she hadn’t been so nervous, Tess might have chuckled when the occupants of the rolling desk chairs all stood in unison to acknowledge the entrance of a young man obviously in charge, someone neither Tess or Richard had ever seen before. Although he seemed too young to be in charge of such a serious group, he carried the unmistakable air of authority in his manner and body language. This was someone who was used to being obeyed.
“Good afternoon,” said the newcomer, walking around to occupy the space at the head of the table. “Please, everyone, take a seat.”
When the shuffling died down, he looked directly at Richard and Tess and began.
“As some of you already know, my name is Taylor Ormage. I’m special advisor to the president of the United States. As such, I head the National Nuclear Safety Agency, the NNSA, and am tasked with ensuring interagency collaboration in matters of Homeland Security. Which is why you, Ms. Bailey, and you, Dr. Stonger, have been asked to join me at this meeting today.”
“‘Asked’ is not exactly how I’d put it,” Richard growled. “More like hijacked.”
“Perhaps that’s how it felt, Dr. Stonger, but let me assure you, that was not my intention,” said Ormage with practiced ease. “You must admit, however, that the information you were presenting to the conference at Goddard was somewhat alarming. Naturally, my people responded as they would to any revelation of a potential threat to the security of our nation.”
“Wait a minute, son,” said Stonger, challenging the explanation for their high-handed treatment. “First of all, we were presenting a paper at a NASA conference, which, in case you don’t know, is a place where scientists, not government cops, get together to figure stuff out, something we were just starting to do when your bully boys busted in and broke up the party. What gives you the right to interfere with a NASA conference, anyway? NASA’s a civilian organization, not an arm of the military or the Department of Energy, which I assume runs your NNSA. We don’t deal in weapons, nuclear or otherwise. We deal in science, pure and simple, and sometimes discoveries that can end up helping people. We don’t threaten them, whether they live in this or any other nation!”
Tess reached over to put a calming hand on Stonger’s arm. Unlike Richard, she wasn’t about to challenge these people until she knew the extent of their interest in and power over their discovery.
Ormage let the ensuing silence hover over the table before responding to the scientist’s statement.
“Actually, Dr. Stonger, the president of the United States gives me the right. And I have to disagree with you that science presents no threat to our security. I’m sure you remember that it was our best scientists who discovered nuclear energy in the last century and developed the weapons to use it—weapons that still present the greatest threat to global survival to this day. So perhaps you can understand how someone like myself and the gentlemen in this room, might take more than a passing interest in what scientists are discovering these days. But let me assure you once again, this meeting is just our way of trying to determine the possible implications of your discovery in this dangerous world we live in.”
Pressing down on Richard’s arm to restrain him from responding, Tess finally spoke.
“Who exactly are the other gentlemen in this room, Mr. Ormage? Are we speaking to the military or the civilian branch of government here?”
“Both, Ms. Bailey. And if you are really as smart as my staff tells me you are, you already know that there’s no real dividing line between the two. When Congress slashed the NASA budget in the 1970s and ‘80s, your bosses had to look elsewhere for the dollars to keep your science projects going. What was the phrase used by John Glenn back in the day? No bucks, no Buck Rogers! Where do you think they found those dollars, Ms. Bailey? The American people didn’t want to pay more taxes to keep you in the business of stargazing. They were, and still are, more concerned with safety than science. So the money went to the military. Fortunately for NASA, our military had some scientists of its own working for DARPA.”
At Tess’s puzzled expression, Ormage elaborated.
“The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, tasked with developing emerging technologies. Surely you’ve heard of them. Dr. Bennett, on your left is one of their chief scientists, I believe in your field, Dr. Stonger. He heads up their physics research programs.”
Stonger stared at the sallow-faced man sitting on the other side of Tess.
“Yes, I know Dr. Bennett,” said Stonger dismissively. “We booted him out of NASA twenty years ago for sloppy science and questionable motives. I see he’s found a home that suits his talents. Who else is in this rogue’s gallery?”
Ignoring the insult from Stonger, Bennett introduced several of his colleagues in the room as top minds in the fields of chemistry, biology, communications, computer science, and propulsion, all the specialties needed to develop advanced weapons systems.
“Okay, Mr. Ormage,” said Tess. “It’s your meeting. What do you want from us?”
“Please repeat to these gentlemen the discovery you and Dr. Stonger were presenting at the conference. I’m sure you will find them most attentive.”
After exchanging confused and dubious looks, Tess and Richard recounted the series of events leading up their appearance at the conference, taking care to omit any specifics about how their data were developed or who, beside themselves, were involved in the project. While they were speaking, Tess took note of the facial expressions of the scientists in the room. To her amazement, they actually appeared to be not only interested, but enthusiastic about what they were hearing. Although the still-anonymous power brokers scattered around the table continued to be guarded in posture and language, Tess felt their audience might actually be open to accepting the extraordinary possibilities associated with their discovery of extraterrestrial ELF waves bombarding the planet.
Then, just as Richard began fielding questions from the scientists in the room, Tess glanced at her smartphone to see it flashing a silent alarm signaling detection of another wavefront bombardment from their CubeSat network.
Her heart pounded as her brain swirled with questions about how this latest invasion might be affecting people. When she looked up from her phone, Tess was horrified to see that the wavestorm was having an impact right in front of her eyes, in real time. Body language and attitudes in the higher ranked scientists began to change. From one moment to the next, she saw faces go from open and questioning to closed and shut off. It was like watching a slow-motion ballet where the dancers suddenly shifted from fluid movements to stiff march steps.
More ominous was the change she saw in Ormage. At first guarded but interested, he now declared himself to be an outright adversary. Sucking the oxygen out of the room, he stood, interrupting Richard’s answer to a question about the connection between ELF frequencies and alpha waves in the human brain, to signal the end of the meeting. “Gentlemen, thank you for your time, but I think we can all see that these wild speculations about space wave invasions are simply that, wild speculations.”
As the others filed out in lockstep into the underground corridor, he turned to Tess and Richard with a deadly serious expression on his face. “Dr. Stonger, Ms. Bailey, I warn you to stop these attempts to go public with your supposed discovery. What you are stating as fact is not only implausible, but patently impossible. And I’m telling you, I intend to report your unauthorized use of government resources to NASA HQ, which I am confident will be contacting you for restitution. Before that happens, though, it would be wise to stop whatever it is you are doing right here and now.”
“And what if we don’t?” shot Stonger, pushing back against Ormage’s naked threat.
“Then you will be putting not only yourselves, but whoever you’re working with at risk, personally and professionally, and let me assure you, we’ll find out who they are,” Ormage warned.
“We understand,” said Tess, cutting off another challenge by her enraged friend. Somehow she had to get Richard alone long enough to tell him what had happened in the room.
“Will your driver take us back to Goddard so we can make arrangements to return home?” she asked as meekly as possible.
“Fine,” said Ormage. “But remember what I said. This ends now!”
***
“What the hell were you thinking, Tess?” demanded Richard after the black SUV disgorged them in front of the Goddard entry gate and peeled off. “Why did you let that bastard push us around?”
“Quiet, Richard,” said Tess, looking around nervously. “I’ll fill you in when we’re on the plane home. Till then, you’ll just have to keep your head down and trust that I’m trying to get us to safety in one piece!”
“Safety? You don’t think that little pipsqueak would actually harm us, do you?” Richard asked, lowering his voice a bit.
“I know he would, Richard,” Tess replied under her breath. “And I think I finally know why. But I also know our only chance to get out of this alive is to look like frightened, whipped puppies to whatever surveillance assets are trained on us right now so that Ormage and the rest of his crew think they’ve scared us off. Seriously, Richard, try to look old and defeated. I’ll take care of looking scared, which is exactly what I am and what you should be too!”
