Undisclosed, p.1

Undisclosed, page 1



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  NY Times best-selling author

  Steve Alten

  A&M Publishing, L.L.C.

  West Palm Beach, FL

  Other titles by Steve Alten


  MEG (Viper Press, a division of A & M Publishing)

  The TRENCH (Kensington/Pinnacle)

  MEG: Primal Waters (Tor/Forge)

  MEG: Hell’s Aquarium (Tor/Forge)

  MEG: Night Stalkers (Tor/Forge)


  DOMAIN (Tor/Forge)


  PHOBOS: Mayan Fear (Tor/Forge)

  The LOCH NESS Series

  The LOCH (Tor/Forge)

  VOSTOK (Tor/Forge)

  GOLIATH (Tor/Forge)

  THE SHELL GAME (Tor/Forge)

  GRIM REAPER: End of Days (Tor/Forge).


  SHARKMAN (VIPER Press, a division of A & M Publishing)


  (WJM Books, a division of A & M Publishing)

  A comedic novel, written under the pen name L.A. KNIGHT


  Copyright © Alten Entertainment of Boca Raton, Inc.

  Published by A&M Publishing, LLC

  West Palm Beach, FL 33411


  ISBN: 978-1-943957-05-7

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017937983

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used nor reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information, email all inquiries to …

  [email protected]

  Printed in the United States of America

  Special thanks to NASA for the incredible pictures that are throughout this book.


  Other titles by Steve Alten


  Author’s Note

  Part 1













  Part 2







  Part 3













  Part 4














  Part 5



  It is with great pride and appreciation that I acknowledge those who contributed to the completion of UNDISCLOSED.

  First and foremost, many thanks to Dr. Steven M. Greer, and his wife Emily, for giving me access and permission to incorporate the information Dr. Greer painstakingly acquired from hundreds of hours of incredible testimonials by military, intelligence personnel, and scientists who were eyewitnesses to UFOs, extraterrestrials, Unacknowledged Special Access Projects, zero-point-energy, subterranean bases, and other secrets woven into the storyline of this book.

  My thanks to the dedicated team at A&M Publishing: Tim Schulte, Barbara Becker, Belle Avery, Michelle Colon-Johnson, Doug and Lisa McEntyre at Millennium Technology Resources, as well as my dear friend, Mark Maller, and our cover artist, Erik Hollander of Erik Hollander Design (ErikHollanderDesign.com). My gratitude to my long-time agent Danny Baror and Heather Baror-Shapiro at Baror International.

  To my wife and soul mate, Kim, our children (Kelsey, Branden, Amanda & Chad) and grandchildren (Savannah, Leanna, & Alexandra). Finally, to my readers: Thank you for your correspondence and contributions. Your comments are always a welcome treat, your input means so much, and you remain this author’s greatest asset.

  Steve Alten, Ed.D.

  To personally contact the author or learn

  more about his novels, go to www.SteveAlten.com


  a free nationwide teen reading program for secondary

  school students and teachers.

  For more information, click on


  Author’s Note

  On Saturday, December 14, 2013, at approximately 11:10 p.m., my wife, Kim, and I were returning home from dinner and a movie. As we drove through our neighborhood, I noticed something bizarre moving toward us in the night sky—pale amber lights like nothing I had ever seen. There were eight to twelve of them flying in staggered pairs, approaching from the south, less than a thousand feet (estimated) above Route 441/State Road 7 in Palm Beach County. They were far too silent and smooth to be helicopters and they were definitely not planes. As they came closer and passed almost directly overhead, we could see the outline of a … well, their saucer-shaped vessels.

  By this time, I had parked the car. Kim and I stood and watched them, the two of us incredulous as they moved north through a cloudless night sky … until, pair by pair, they simply faded into the ether. Let me be clear here, they didn’t move out of range or shut off their lights or disappear into a cloud bank—they slipped out of existence.

  My wife and I were both fifty-three at the time, and neither one of us in our combined one-hundred-plus years on this planet had ever seen a UFO. Far from being scared, we felt exhilarated, like we had just been treated to something very special.

  Three days later, we drove to Miami Beach and had dinner with Dr. Steven M. Greer and his wife, Emily—the first time the four of us had ever met.

  I discovered Dr. Greer’s work in 2010 while writing my eleventh novel, Phobos: Mayan Fear. I write “faction”—fictional thrillers woven in fact, and I sweat the details. Extraterrestrials played a small part in the storyline I had been working on, and during my research, I had come across a YouTube video of The Disclosure Project. I was blown away by both the encounters and integrity of these eyewitnesses, many of whom held top security clearances in the military. I emailed Dr. Greer seeking permission to use excerpts of these testimonials between chapters as a means of entwining fact with fiction. The Greers generously agreed. I thanked them in the acknowledg-ment and sent a signed book when the novel was published a year later.

  In August of 2013, I received an email from Emily. She loved the book and said Steven would like to meet me—perhaps we could have dinner together when they came down to Miami Beach in mid-December.

  Of course, the first thing we spoke about was our UFO experience three nights earlier. Dr. Greer explained that these close encounters happen to many of the people he is going to meet for the first time, the ETs “checking us out.” I’ve since learned that advanced species communicate through consciousness; it was during meditation that Steven Greer discovered how to initiate his own close encounters.

  Having spent several hundred hours with Dr. Greer, a thousand more researching his work, and a few startling moments in the presence of far more intelligent (and peaceful) life forms not from our planet, I can tell you without a shadow of doubt that the public
is being lied to. UFOs and extraterrestrials exist—that is fact, not fiction. It took an emergency room medical physician to figure out how to communicate with them, and the path led him down a dark rabbit’s hole. This is his story and it is ours, told in the hopes that, by awakening the masses, we can veer humanity off our current path—a path purposely intended to lead us to Armageddon—and instead usher in an era of universal peace.g—

  —Steve Alten, Ed. D.

  February 10, 2017

  While many of the characters in this book are real, and the evidence and history of UFOs and ETs woven into the storyline is based on actual testimonials from eyewitnesses in the Armed Forces and Intelligence Services … this novel remains a work of fiction.

  For Kim …

  Part 1

  “The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”

  —Gloria Steinem

  (Derived from Joe Klaas’s Twelve Steps to Happiness)

  “If the world in 1916 was complex, or the world of 1945 was complex, the world of 2016 is intensely complex, and I can tell you that from personal experience. You’ll be dealing with terrorists, you’ll be dealing with hybrid armies, you’ll be dealing with little green men, you’ll be dealing with tribes, you’re going to be dealing with it all, and you’re going to be dealing with it simultaneously.”

  —General Mark Milley, Army Chief of Staff

  April 21, 2016

  “We already have the means to travel around the stars, but these technologies are locked up in black projects and it would take an act of God to ever get them out to benefit humanity.”

  —Ben Rich, Former Head of Lockheed Skunkworks 1975–1991

  UCLA School of Engineering Alumni Speech; March 23, 1993


  North Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  September 5, 2032

  MICHAEL ANDREW SUTTERFIELD crept down the staircase, the soft whirring sound of the blender helping to cover the report of the wooden steps creaking beneath his weight. Bypassing the kitchen and his mother, the twelve-year-old made his way through the dining room to reach the basement door.

  Another flight of stairs led him down into the cellar. Squeezed among the washer and dryer and a handyman’s work station was the pod. Sphere-shaped and twelve-feet-in-diameter, the device was anchored in a seven-foot-high aluminum frame which enabled the object to rotate 360-degrees. The exterior shell was white, composed of fiberglass and tinted plastic. Emblazoned across its midsection in navy-blue was: GVP-5000.

  A control panel featured a retinal scan and emergency shutdown switch. A digital clock displayed the time as 07:39 a.m. EST. Three names appeared in the USER menu.

  Sutterfield, Edward M.

  Sutterfield, Tina K.

  Sutterfield, Michael A.

  Retrieving his personal headpiece and visor from its charger, the adolescent pressed his name on the touch-screen and submitted to the retinal scan.

  The pod immediately cracked open, revealing a padded black bucket seat which rotated into position for its occupant, its four female receptors moving to accommodate four male sensory devices built into Michael’s neoprene body suit.

  The boy was about to climb in when he heard, “Freeze, mister.”

  His mother descended the wooden stairs, carrying an 8-ounce glass filled with a pink smoothie.

  “C’mon, Mom, it’s the first day of school. Do you want me to be late?”

  “It’s only 7:39. Class doesn’t activate until eight, and you’re still grounded.”

  “Twenty minutes of zero-gravity … what’s the big deal?”



  “No! Here, drink this.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Drink it anyway. The machine will shut down if it senses your blood sugar is low.” She handed him the strawberry-banana protein shake. “So, your first day of junior high school, huh? A chance to meet new friends.”


  “Michael, can you at least try?”

  “Five minutes of zero gravity?”

  “Dad told me you selected a science and space curriculum. That sounds exciting.”

  “They do CE-5.”

  “He told me. He also said the training sessions won’t begin until after you pass all your prerequisites.”

  “A nutless monkey could pass them.” He checked the time display on the side of the pod … 07:41. “Come on, Ma! It calms me down.”

  Tina Sutterfield could see her son was getting hyper … then again, he knew all the right buttons to push to get her to acquiesce. “Fine. You can stay in zero gravity until school starts, but first drink your smoothie.”

  Michael drained his breakfast in one steady gulp, handing her the empty glass while expelling a loud burp.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Can I go now?”

  “Did you feed Myrtle?”

  “She died.”

  “What? When?”

  “I don’t know? Last night, I guess. I went to feed her this morning and she was on her back.”

  “Honey … I’m so sorry.”

  “I chucked her in the trash, she was starting to smell. Can I go now?”

  Squeezing her eyes in defeat, she managed, “Go.”

  He climbed inside the pod, sealing the hatch before his mother could lean in to steal a first-day kiss.

  Tina watched the machine activate. Then she headed up two flights of stairs to her son’s room.

  The terrarium was empty.

  She and her husband had found the box turtle on a walk around the park. The reptile’s left rear leg had been crushed by either a bicycle tire or a jogger. Against her better wishes, Edward had brought it home for Michael to nurse back to health; father and son accessing the turtle’s internal anatomy on a zoological app inside the GVP.

  Locating the wastepaper basket, she found Myrtle’s remains. While she had wanted to believe the creature had flipped over and suffocated on its own, the evidence suggested otherwise.

  Tina examined the incisions that had extricated the turtle from its shell. Clean cuts … he’s getting better.

  She wiped back tears. Maybe he’ll be a veterinary surgeon …

  * * *

  Arguably the most popular technological development since the iPhone, the prototypes of what would eventually become the Global Village Pod had originally been designed by the entertainment industry to enhance the video game experience by encapsulating the user in a holographic world that transcended reality.

  By merging the system with cell phone technology, the GVP evolved into something far greater.

  Almost overnight it seemed, new virtual apps hit the market, allowing executives to “virtually attend” a business meeting, saving travel time and money. Families could get together in any location, real or imagined. Sporting events and concerts, both live and pre-recorded, could be experienced from the best seats in the house.

  A new line of sensory body suits raised the bar, allowing one to experience everything from being weightless aboard the International Space Station to the appendage-numbing temperatures and effects of extreme altitude training during a simulated assault on Mount Everest. A medical app replaced doctor visits while a line of interactive adult entertainment apps “virtually” put strip bars and prostitutes out of business, begetting a line of marital counseling apps.

  But the Global Village Pod’s most important contribution to society was its ability to provide a high quality, individualized and affordable education for everyone, regardless of their household income level or location.

  By law, attending kindergarten through sixth grade remained mandatory for a child’s social development; however grades seven through twelve, college, post-grad, and all vocational training were now offered in the interactive realm of the Global Village, saving state and local governments billions of dollars while placing public and private schools on a level playing field, allowing each student to learn at their own pace.

p; While the GVP changed the way the world learned, played, worked, and socialized, its primary function served a new division inside the Department of Homeland Security. Its neural sensors were able to analyze the brain waves of its users, allowing it to identify and track the five percent of the population exhibiting the traits of a sociopath.

  * * *

  The blind caterpillar crawled in excruciatingly slow endless circles along the bottom of the empty glass jar. Every two or three laps it would stop and raise its furry head, as if searching the void for landmarks.

  The hologram of the attractive Chinese-American woman sat across the table from the boy, the teacher’s looks and age strategically selected to hold the adolescent’s interest while still establishing her as an authority figure.

  “Mr. Sutterfield, I am still awaiting your answer. Please describe what you see.”

  Michael rested his chin on the table, rolling his eyes. “For the twentieth time, I see a hairy worm crawling along the bottom of an empty jar. When’s lunch, Amy? I’m starving!”

  “You are in junior high school now, Mr. Sutterfield. Temper your hunger and think deeper please. And you will address me as Ms. Shau.”

  “Think deeper? I don’t know what that means.”

  “Perhaps a different perspective might help.”

  The tiny holographic jar suddenly expanded so that it engulfed the boy, who found himself trapped inside the glass container with the caterpillar, which circled him like a three-foot-high wiggling mass of fur.

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