PHOENIX: (Projekt Saucer series)

by W. A. Harbinson

  The UFO photo was gone.

  The men in black had been real, too.

  Still in a state of shock, Dwight slid out of bed, hurried across to the window, opened it and looked up at the sky.

  There were lots of stars up there. Look too long and they seemed to move. Dwight looked a long time and thought he saw one moving - that big one, almost directly above

  - but he couldn’t be sure. He kept scanning the sky, looking for something unusual, but saw only the glittering lights of that sea of stars in the infinite darkness.

  Shivering, though still sweating, trying to still his racing heart, he walked back to the bed, picked up the bottle of bourbon and drank too much of it too quickly.

  Now, with his nerve cracking, fearful for Beth and Nichola as well as for himself, he was determined to leave the air force for good and put all this behind him.

  It was best to be silent.

  PART TWO

  Chapter Twenty-Three ‘I think you all know why we’re here,’ President Eisenhower said. ‘Yesterday, at Cape Canaveral, Florida, Project Vanguard’s first rocket, which the American people had been led to expect would put up the first earth satellite in history, blew up on its launching pad. I want to know why.’

  Richard Horner, assistant secretary of the Air Force for research and development, coughed nervously into his fist, glanced at the other men in the Oval Room in the White House, then said, ‘We still haven’t ascertained the exact cause of the explosion, but according to Mr Fuller, here, Wilson was responsible.’

  Eisenhower was standing beside his vice-president, Richard Nixon, framed by the window overlooking the Rose Garden and hazed slightly in the incoming morning sunlight. Both men, Fuller knew, were fully aware of the political seesaw arrangement with Wilson. The 34th President of the United States stared directly at him.

  ‘That’s correct, Mr President.’ Fuller was unfazed by Eisenhower’s stern look, which struck him as being that of a bachelor schoolteacher, rather than that of the most powerful man in the country. While admiring Eisenhower as a West Point graduate, renowned World War II military commander, supreme commander of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation, or NATO, and active anticommunist, Fuller viewed his support of desegregation and the Civil Rights Act as unhealthy manifestations of liberal soft thinking. Nor was he keen on Eisenhower’s vicepresident, Richard Nixon, whose support for the sleazy Senator Joe McCarthy and his self-serving witch-hunts had gained even decent anti-Communists, such as Fuller, a bad name. ‘Wilson phoned me an hour before countdown to say the explosion would occur and he’s arranged it as a warning that we were making progress too quickly for his liking.’

  ‘Maybe he’s displeased with our plans for the creation of a National Aeronautics and Space Administration,’ said Major General Joe Kelly of the Air Force Legislative Liaison, or SAFLL.

  ‘He’s not,’ Fuller informed him. ‘That’s the first thing I thought of, but Wilson wasn’t concerned about NASA. He’s annoyed by what he described as our increasingly naked desperation to beat the Russians into space.’

  ‘So he arranged the explosion on Project Vanguard’s first rocket,’ Eisenhower said, displaying anger for the first time.

  ‘Yes, Mr President,’ Fuller said. ‘Of course, as soon as he’d phoned me, I passed the warning on to the launch team. A last-minute check on the rocket showed no faults at all, so it was decided that Wilson was bluffing and that the launching should continue. Then the rocket blew up – just as Wilson had said it would.’

  ‘So how did he manage it?’ asked Major General Arno H. Luehman, director of information services.

  ‘With some kind of explosive device,’ Fuller replied, shrugging.

  ‘We can all assume that, Mr Fuller,’ Nixon said disdainfully. ‘What we want to know is how he got it on board.’

  ‘It had to be one of our men,’ Richard Horner admitted. ‘But with so many working on the project – and nothing found in the debris that relates to any known explosive devices – we’re having great difficulty in finding out who it was or how it was done.’

  ‘But we do at least know that Wilson has one, or even more, of his men planted in our rocket research teams.’

  ‘It certainly looks that way, Mr President.’

  ‘Either he has some planted in our rocket research teams,’ Fuller corrected him, ‘or he used some kind of remote-controlled device. Whether one or the other, he proved his point... He’s way ahead of us and we’re still at his mercy.’

  That statement led to a brief, uneasy silence and the rising anger of Vice-president Nixon. ‘It’s a public humiliation,’ he said. ‘Made even more obvious by the fact that it was the Russians, and not us, who inaugurated the space age with their recent launching of the first man-made satellite, Sputnik 1.’

  ‘That’s old news already,’ Fuller responded, enjoying needling Nixon. ‘Last month, they sent up that dog, Laika, which orbited Earth in a second Russian satellite, six times heavier than the first.’

  ‘Right,’ General Kelly said. ‘And that Sputnik is also equipped to measure cosmic rays and other conditions in space, a good one thousand miles above Earth.’

  ‘That damned dog,’ Major General Luehman said bitterly, ‘is being tested for its response to prolonged weightlessness, so it’s a precursor to future manned spaceflights.’

  ‘They beat us into space,’ Nixon said angrily, ‘and now this Wilson has deliberately emphasised our humiliation and set the space programme back again. I thought we had a deal with that man!’

  ‘We do,’ Fuller said, ‘but it’s a seesaw arrangement. We give him a little, he gives us a little back, but whenever he thinks we’ve stepped out of line, he also gives us a warning.’

  ‘Like the explosion on our Project Vanguard rocket,’ Eisenhower said.

  ‘Right, Mr President. We’re only allowed to advance behind his technology. If he thinks we’re coming close to catching up with him, he pulls these little stunts – and he’s very good at it.’

  ‘So we’ve learnt to our cost – as have others. I believe he was also responsible for the crash of the British Airways Viscount in March this year, for the fire in the Windscale atomic works in Cumberland in October – ’

  ‘The Windscale piles are used to make plutonium for military purposes,’ Richard Horner interjected.

  ‘Exactly,’ Eisenhower said. ‘He’s also suspected of being responsible for the death of that Royal Navy Commander, Lionel Crabb, found headless in the sea near Chichester Harbour, England, in June this year. That was shortly after Crabb was accused of engaging in espionage activities against the Russians. There are even reports that he might have been responsible for exposing the spying activities of Burgess and McLean in 1955, in order to sour East-West relationships.’

  ‘He doesn’t like it when we talk to one another,’ Fuller explained. ‘He prefers us to be in conflict. We’re convinced that this deal he has with us he also has with the British and the Russians. He’s one real smart cookie. As for causing a little accident each time we advance too quickly for his liking – I believe the Brits and Russians have also had disasters caused by him – we’ll just have to be more careful about what we’re doing in our research establishments, particularly those in the White Sands Proving Ground.’

  ‘You mean our own flying saucers,’ Nixon said.

  ‘Correct. However, it’s even more important that we continue to keep hidden the fact that the flying saucers most often seen, and also known to abduct people and animals, are in fact man-made by a highly advanced foreign power – which Wilson can now rightfully be called. If the public finds out about Wilson’s flying saucers and Antarctic colony, we’ll have mass hysteria to contend with.’

  ‘I agree,’ Richard Horner said. ‘We must continue, as a means of disinformation, to encourage a widespread belief in the possibility of extraterrestrials. It’s vital that we prevent the general public from learning that we’re being threatened by a totalitarian regime using mind-control, laser-
beam technology, and other highly advanced weapons and forms of parapsychological warfare. That knowledge would be more terrifying than the revelation that the saucers have an extraterrestrial source. Distance lends enchantment. The reality of the Antarctic colony could give the populace nightmares.’

  ‘Unfortunately,’ said Major General Luehman, director of information services, ‘stopping speculations about UFOs won’t be easy, as there have been more reports this year than any other.’

  Fuller knew what he meant. In 1956, the ATIC had recorded 670 sightings, but this year, 1957, that figure had risen to over 1,000, with a gradual increase throughout the year, reaching a peak of over 500 for November alone. Remarkably, in this second week of December, those figures were continuing to climb, making this the biggest year for UFO sightings since 1952.

  The sightings, Fuller knew, were due to a combination of Wilson’s saucers, secret Air Force and Navy saucers, and wishful thinking, or mass hysteria, caused by the launching of the second Russian Sputnik. Nevertheless, their crucial factor was that Wilson was now flying more saucers than ever and doing it with impunity. In fact, Wilson controlled the skies.

  ‘UFO speculation won’t be lessened,’ Major Kelly said, ‘by the forthcoming Congressional hearings, brought about by relentless pressure from that former Air Force major, Donald Keyhoe, and his civilian UFO group, the National Investigations Committee on Aerial Phenomena. The problem of handling the hearings and answering Congressional enquiries about the UFO programme has fallen to us at SAFLL. So far, by using Special Reader Report Number 14 for our information, we’ve been able to insist that there’s a total lack of evidence for anything unusual in the skies. However, I don’t know how long we can support that claim if we’re forced into open hearings on the matter.’

  ‘Congressional hearings on flying saucers!’ Richard Nixon exclaimed, aghast. ‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing!’

  Turning to his assistant secretary of the Air Force for research and development, Eisenhower asked, ‘Can you help?’

  Horner nodded emphatically. ‘I’ve already told subcommittee chairman Donald O’Donnell that hearings aren’t in the best interests of the Air Force. He’s trying to get the subcommittee to drop the issue, but it’s early days yet. Meanwhile, I’ll keep stonewalling Keyhoe and the NICAP.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Major Kelly said, ‘if we are forced into Congressional hearings, we’ll simply use the subcommittee as another tool of disinformation.’

  ‘Very good,’ Nixon said, flicking beads of sweat from his upper lip and looking as shifty as always.

  ‘Meanwhile,’ said Major General Luehman, ‘my department is continuing the education of the public with the use of psychologists specialising in mass psychology. We’re also using military training film companies, commercial film and TV productions, such as Walt Disney Productions, and popular radio and TV personalities, including Arthur Godfrey, to put over whatever we deem fitting. We’re also continuing to disseminate negative literature about the civilian UFO organisations, including Keyhoe’s NICAP and Dr Frederick Epstein’s Aerial Phenomena Investigations Institute, based right here in Washington DC. Last but by no means least, we legally harass them on the slightest pretext. Similar treatment is being meted out to Air Force pilots and commercial airline pilots reporting UFO sightings.’

  ‘Terrific!’ That was Nixon.

  ‘It all seems so sordid,’ Eisenhower said, looking uneasy.

  ‘But necessary,’ Fuller insisted, amused when Nixon smiled encouragingly at him. ‘We have to gradually kill off public talk about UFOs and trust that it then becomes a forgotten subject.’

  ‘What about Project Blue Book?’ Nixon asked. ‘That damned project has done more to stimulate interest in UFOs than any other branch of the services.’

  ‘It’s now well under control,’ Fuller said. ‘Blue Book’s been run down and is now under the supervision of the 1006th Intelligence Service Squadron, which knows practically nothing about UFO investigations. As for the vastly more experienced Captains Ruppelt and Randall, both have been pressured into leaving the Air Force for good, ensuring that the UFO projects, our own and Wilson’s, won’t be discovered by either of them, accidentally or otherwise.’

  ‘Let’s hope they’re not discovered by someone else,’ President Eisenhower said. ‘Gentlemen, thank you.’

  Fuller was first to leave the Oval Room, pleased by what he had heard there.

  You simply couldn’t trust anyone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four Dwight was drunk again. He was in that state a lot these days, but it was always even worse at Christmas, which reminded him of the family that he’d lost after leaving the Air Force. Now, sitting at the dining table in his untidy clapboard house, by the window overlooking the rusty pumps of the gas station located on a desolate stretch of road just outside Dayton, Ohio, he was listening to the Christmas carols being sung on the radio, sipping from a dangerously large glass of bourbon, and staring out at the dark, dust-covered road.

  He was really surprised when a battered Ford pulled up and Beth stepped out. ‘Oh, Christ!’ he whispered involuntarily, talking to himself, caught between pleasure and embarrassment that she should find him like this. Sipping more bourbon, trying to calm his agitation, he studied her as she closed the door of the car, smoothed down her hair, then glanced nervously across the yard at the house.

  Dwight slipped a little sideways, to ensure that she couldn’t see him, then watched her advancing up the path to the front door. Wearing a tightly belted overcoat and high heels, she looked as trim and attractive as always. When she reached the front door, vanishing from his view, a lump came to his throat. Then the doorbell rang.

  Twitching as if whipped, Dwight was about to hide his bottle of bourbon, but realising instantly that he would not get through this meeting without a drink, he just shrugged, had another sip, then went to the door, carrying his still half-full glass. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and looked straight into his wife’s girlish, solemn face. She seemed as embarrassed as he felt, but she gave him a nervous smile.

  ‘Well, well,’ Dwight said, ‘what a surprise! Long time, no see.’

  ‘Yes, Dwight, a long time.’ The winter wind was howling across her, beating at her, making her seem touchingly fragile against the nocturnal sky. ‘Are you going to keep me standing out here all night or can I come in?’

  ‘Oh, sure, Beth, I’m sorry.’ He stepped aside to let her enter. When she brushed past him, the brief touch of her body sent a shock coursing through him. He closed the door and followed her into the living room. She was studying the awful untidiness, which embarrassed him even more. ‘I guess I’m not too good at housekeeping,’ he said. ‘And the gas station keeps me pretty busy.’

  Beth stared at the glass in his hand. ‘That as well, so I’ve heard.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dwight said, ‘that as well.’ He defiantly finished off his drink, then topped up the glass. ‘You want one?’

  ‘Why not? Just a small one. Let’s share a Christmas drink together. Can I sit in this chair?’

  ‘Sure, Beth. Anywhere.’

  He poured her a drink as she unbuttoned her overcoat, letting it hang open, then took the easy chair near the fire. She was wearing a white sheath dress that showed off her fine figure, and when she crossed her long, shapely legs, Dwight wanted to stroke them. Instead, he handed her the drink and took the chair facing her. They raised their glasses in a toast, drank some bourbon, then gazed at one another in silence.

  ‘Who told you I was drinking?’ Dwight asked eventually, wanting to get the subject over and done with.

  Beth shrugged. ‘It’s all over town. At least among our mutual friends. You’ve been seen and heard, Dwight.’

  He grinned, though he didn’t feel good. ‘Yeah, I reckon I have. It’s surprising how these things get a hold. I’m not cut out for a bachelor’s life.’

  ‘It’s been three years, Dwight. I hear you don’t even have a girlfriend.’

  ‘We di
dn’t separate because of that, Beth. I don’t need a girlfriend.’

  ‘Just the bottle.’

  ‘That’s right, Beth. You’ve got it. It deadens all needs.’

  ‘And all fears, as well.’

  ‘Those, too, I guess.’

  He soothed those fears now by having another sip of bourbon, then he held the glass unsteadily in his lap and studied his wife. He had seen her only occasionally since their separation, usually when visiting Nichola, but it seemed like he hadn’t seen her for years, and her presence consumed him.

  ‘You should never have left the Air Force,’ she said. ‘You needed the Air Force.’

  ‘Obviously, the Air Force didn’t need me,’ Dwight responded, unable to conceal his bitterness. ‘You refused to accept it, Beth, but I had to get out. They pressured me until I had no choice. That’s how they stick it to all of us.’

  He meant the officers investigating UFOs. First, Flight Officer Harris of the Roswell Army Air Base, then Captain Ruppelt of the ATIC, then himself. All had been forced to leave the Air Force after receiving too much pressure from above, usually in the form of blocked UFO investigations, unwarranted criticism, midnight interrogations by intelligence officers, unwelcome transfers to bleak spots like Alaska, and even visits from the mysterious ‘men in black’. In the end, you simply couldn’t take it any more and just wanted out.

  ‘Yes,’ Beth said, ‘I have to admit that’s true. Did you hear about Captain Ruppelt?’

  ‘Yep. After leaving the Air Force, he wrote a book, The Report on Unidentified Flying Objects, claiming that the UFOs were real, solid objects. I read it. It was good.’

  Beth nodded. ‘But have you heard the latest? Ruppelt’s done an abrupt about-face. Later this year he’s bringing out a new edition of his book, recanting on his former beliefs and insisting that the UFOs aren’t real at all.’

  ‘I’ve heard that,’ Dwight said. ‘I’ve also heard that he’s not in good health. That isn’t uncommon either. Just look at me, Beth!’