by David Sloma
The professor stared at the screen, taking it all in, trying to come up with an explanation.
“Please shut off the sound,” Lang said and sat down on the couch. He looked at the floor and put his head in his hands.
“Think it’s the end?” the professor asked him.
“No, just bad timing. This was predicted to happen,” Lang said.
“What? A UFO invasion was predicted?” Charles laughed.
“Actually, yes. And they may not be what they seem.” Lang pointed at the screen. “How do we know who is in those saucers, if anyone is? And who made them? For all we know, they could be made on Earth, released in tandem to make it look like an invasion from space.”
“Mr. Lang, come on…” Wendy scoffed.
“Then why did Ronald Reagan mention that a UFO invasion from space would unite humanity in his speeches as President? Several times! Why has this been documented as a plan in many of the so-called elite’s writings? This is no joke! This has been planned for a long time.”
“But why now?” Wendy pressed.
“Because they want to stave off the forces of good. It’s not just our Guild here on Earth who is fighting to free us. There are cosmic forces at work and cosmic timings. The powers that be follow the stars, and they know the time is close for a major strike to be made to their evil order. They are trying to hold it off, to buy themselves some time,” Lang said.
“That’s a lot to buy at once,” Wendy said and shook her head.
“He knows things, Wendy,” the prof said.
“I-I…” she stared at the screen. “This is unbelievable! OK, so why? Why would governments—our government—do this to us?” Wendy asked.
“They have their agendas, and they don’t let us in on them. They’ve been known to do a lot of terrible things. And then lie about them. Why would you believe that anything they do is good, now? Or that they’d tell the truth about an alien invasion, real or not?” Lang raised his eyebrows.
Wendy snuggled into her husband and watched the TV. “I dunno, I just don’t know…” she said.
“The funny thing is…there is a real alien threat behind all of this,” Lang said and smirked.
Charles and the professor knew enough to smile along with him, as did Tom, but Wendy seemed afraid.
“Don’t worry, honey. We’re with the best people to be with if this is real. And, if it’s not real, then we have nothing to worry about, right?” the prof said.
“I dunno about that…” she said. “Even if it’s not real, that means our governments really are that bad. And, if it’s real, then we’re probably sunk anyway. Not a good outcome no matter what.”
“Don’t give up hope so soon. We have a lot of things in motion behind the scenes that may turn things around, yet. Speaking of which, we should get back to work.” Lang got up and looked at Charles and the prof.
“Yes,” the prof said, standing up. “You’ll be alright without me for a while?” he asked his wife.
“Sure. Just check on me, later, OK? This is most upsetting.”
“I will.” He bent down and kissed her, then he and Charles followed Lang out of the living room, back to the makeshift lab.
The UFO reports played over the TV constantly all day, and leaders of many countries came on camera to say basically the same thing: we have been contacted by an extra-terrestrial race, and we are working hard to establish communications with them. Marital law was placed over most countries. It was only because the RV was in the Mexican countryside that they escaped running into a military roadblock.
Lang had the driver pull off the main road and take a small dirt road through the jungle. They didn’t quite know where they were going; the goal was just to get as far away from the main road as possible, and then get the RV hidden.
They came across a farmhouse that was falling apart, with no signs of people being there recently. The grass was all overgrown and wild. There was a large barn on the property, and though it was long abandoned too, it had some structural integrity. Best of all, the door was big enough that the RV could drive through it and inside.
“They don't build them like this anymore,” Lang said, as he stood in the doorway, guiding the driver of the RV backwards with hand signals.
“Think it's going to stay up?” Charles looked up at the rafters. Light was coming in through the boards and beams, and several birds had taken up residence inside.
“Should,” the professor said, shaking the wooden frame. “Besides, we're not putting any stress on the structure just being down on the ground level.”
And, ground it was, Charles saw, a dirt floor.
“If we don't get any heavy storms, with rain and wind, this should be just fine. I'd hate to see what a big wind would do to this place,” Lang said, looking up into the barn.
Tom backed the RV deep inside and killed the engine, then hopped out. “What do you think?” he asked Lang.
Lang shrugged. “Should protect us from a flyover, at least visually. Maybe not if they've got FLIR. You have the camouflage tarp for this?”
Tom nodded and went to a compartment on the side of the RV with the other guard. They pulled out a large camouflage green pattern tarp and put it over the RV.
“It's got some shielding in that tarp, too. Might just help keep us hidden from prying eyes from above,” Lang said.
“This feels like a camp out,” Wendy said.
“It will be pretty much like that,” Lang said, smiling. “Might even be some fun, despite the circumstances. Might as well make the best of it.” He went inside the RV.
Later, after they'd had dinner, Tony searched the radio frequencies for news and also for troop movements. He had a program on his laptop that would scan all of the frequencies from short wave into the military bands. With the laptop being hooked up to the antenna on the RV, it was able to pull in these radio waves.
Charles looked over the laptop, amazed, as he'd never seen one like it, neither had anyone else. “That's some laptop.”
“It is. Guild special,” Tony said.
“And that must be some antenna,” the professor said.
Tony pulled the headphones off his bald head. “The secret is not just in the antenna portion you can see, but the wires that go around the whole RV several times. We've got miles of antenna here.”
“Wow,” Charles said. “Can we have a listen, too?”
“Sure,” Tony said. He disconnected the headphones so the sound came through the laptop speakers. He moved through the dial, giving them a little “tour.”
“What are we listening to, now?” Charles asked, as some foreign voices came on.
“My guess is the local military. Sounds like Spanish to me,” Tony said.
“Do you know what they're saying?” Charles said.
“A little. Doesn't sound like much. But then it's probably coded language. Plus, anything really sensitive they'll be talking over scrambled lines,” Tony said and shrugged.
“And you're getting all that from a wire antenna system?” the professor asked. “I thought those sorts of frequencies were of a much higher level and would require a different sort of antenna.”
“Don't underestimate what we've got here,” Tony said. “One of the things we deal with in the Guild is frequencies. This antenna is based on the work of Tesla and others who knew how to make antennas that would pull in just about anything you wanted them to. We've got some special modifications on ours.”
“Thought so,” the professor said.
“Would you expect any less?” Lang said. He walked up to the table in the kitchen where Tony had set up the laptop and had the wire running from it to the antenna hook up in the wall. “Yes, we know frequencies can harm or heal—your choice. They're not just for communications. In recent years there has been some public disclosure about energy weapons, but these things have been known about in secret for a lot longer. But the thing about this world is that there is always a counter force, so we have healing tools from frequencies,
too.”
“Where did those come from?” Charles asked.
“You might look into the work of Royal Rife and Wilhelm Reich when we get out of this jam. I think you'll find a lot of material there,” Lang said.
“I've never heard of them before,” Charles said.
“You wouldn't have, going through the regular schools,” Lang said.
“I've come across them. I'd love to find out what you know about their work,” the prof said to Lang.
“When we get the chance, one day, when this battle is all over, sure. I'd be glad to open our archives to you, friend,” Lang said and put his hand on the prof's shoulder. “For now though, we have work to do. I think the time is getting short for us to act in a big way, in fact I know this is the case. Please excuse me, I need to contact our home base and see if there's been any news.” Lang picked up the satellite phone and went to his bedroom to make the call.
Night fell, and it got very dark, very quickly in the countryside. All of the special light-blocking shades on the windows were put in place.
Lang had been on the phone for hours, and when he came out of his room the others were sitting around the table finishing dinner.
“I knocked, but I don't think you heard me, and I didn't want to disturb you further,” Wendy said and shrugged.
“Oh, that's fine,” Lang said. “I can warm something up.” He looked at the leftovers, the pasta, bread, and salad on the table, amongst the dirty dishes, which Wendy quickly picked up and put into the dishwasher.
“Sure is a nice night out there,” Charles peered through the window at the stars.
“Did you want to sit outside? I think it's safe,” Lang said, looking at the guards, while he stuck some bread in his mouth.
“Should be. Our scanners show nothing around for miles, except some animals,” Tony said.
“Yeah,” Tom agreed and nodded.
“What scanners are those?” Charles asked.
“Come on, I'll show you,” Tony said and waved him towards the cockpit. Charles went with him.
“Yes, would be nice to sit out. Is it warm enough?” Wendy asked, drying her hands.
“Best just sit inside the barn through,” Lang said.
“OK,” she said and smiled.
“Would be good to stretch the legs and get some fresh air,” her husband said. They got ready to go outside.
In the cockpit Tony explained the screen that had a sweeping hand moving over it, like a radar scope. “This is set to look for metal objects around us, up to about ten miles.” There were only a very few things to be seen, and they were not moving.
“Not much,” Charles said.
“No, no close threats. I can switch it to seek heat, next.” The guard flipped a switch and suddenly many small objects appeared on the scope.
“What are those? People?”
“Maybe some. But they would more likely be animals.”
“Those are all animals?”
“Yeah. Makes hunting easier!”
“I'll bet.”
“Come on. Let's see what they're doing outside. You'll like this!” Tony popped the screen out of the dashboard and took it with him.
“Neat!” Charles said.
“This is a great RV. Custom outfitted, in case you didn't get the picture, yet!”
“Oh, I'm getting that idea.” Charles followed him into the barn.
Lang came and sat out with them, carrying a camp chair. The others were sitting on bales of hay and stumps. There was a battery-powered lamp on the ground with a red shade on it, so the light could not been seen very well from a distance.
“Any word from base?” the prof asked him.
“Yes. The satellite hookup is still working; no one's shut that down, yet, probably because they haven't found it. But I'm sure they will before long. It's only a matter of time.”
“So, what did they say?”
“They said, as I have suspected, that they agree that it was a “false flag” event, a faked alien contact.”
“Shit.” Charles shook his head.
“You find it hard to believe?” Lang asked him.
“I guess so...I mean, I've seen some strange things in the world lately, but it's kinda hard for me to believe that a deception of that magnitude could go on.”
Lang smiled softly. “There's a saying that the bigger the lie, the more people will believe it. It's quite funny, actually, in a tragic way. I wish it were not the case, but the more I learn about how the world is run these days, the more I see it's true. Take your moon landing, for instance...”
“You're telling me that's fake?” Charles looked at him, shocked.
“I'm saying look into it with an open mind. There are a lot of things about that, and many other things besides, that don't add up. In fact, I...”
Lang never got to finish his thought, as the property was shaken by a blast, not far off, maybe half a mile. They could see the flash of fire in the distance.
The guards were on their feet at once, guns pulled out. The lamp was shut off.
Everyone went down on the ground for cover.
“What was it? There's no one around us for, what? Twenty miles?” Charles looked at the screen. Tony took it from him and checked it.
“That's right. I don't see anything around us. It must have been a long-range missile,” Tony said.
“We've got to get out of here,” Tom said, looking around.
“And go where?” Lang said. “They've got a fix on us, otherwise that round would not have come in. If we move, they'll see us. What I don't get is why they didn't just blow us up. Unless it's a....”
Several soldiers in black military uniforms, with helmets and guns, flung open the doors of the barn and shone bright lights on the group.
“...diversion,” Lang finished. He put his hands up, as did the others. The two guards put their guns down, then raised their hands, too.
“Slowly. No sense getting shot over this,” Lang said.
“Don't move!” one of the men called out.
“We won't. Who are you?” Lang said.
“No talking. Come out here. Move,” the man ordered. The other men covered Lang and his group with their guns as they filed out of the barn.
“I'm scared,” Wendy whispered to her husband.
“I know. Don't worry. We'll get out of this,” he whispered back.
The men got them out of the barn and lined up against the wall, face-first.
CHAPTER 38
Lang and his group were searched, then led to the other side of the barn and down a hill, where a large black cargo truck waited for them.
The captives were taken into the back of the truck, in a holding area and locked in. Then, the soldiers got into another part of the truck, and the truck moved off.
“You think they're going to kill us?” Wendy asked, after the door closed.
“No, they would have done that already,” Tony said.
“I think so, too. We're safe for the time being,” Lang said.
“This doesn't look like a military operation,” said Charles.
“It could be, you never know. It could be covert. It could also be our enemies. I don't know who these people are. Any ideas?” Lang looked at his guards. They shook their heads.
Wendy held her husband tight.
“I'm sorry I got you into this,” he told her.
“It's not your fault. It's not like I was going to leave you alone,” she said.
“There goes that great RV,” Charles said and sighed.
“Maybe not,” Tony said.
“What do you mean?” Charles whispered.
“Well, it's pretty easy for our people to track it. I'm sure whoever has us trapped here knows that, too. I wouldn't be surprised if they just leave it alone. Besides, these things are known to have pretty good security systems, like booby traps,” Tony said.
“Oh.” Charles smiled. The other guard smiled, too.
Lang felt the walls. “Probably shielded.”
The guards nodded.
“Shielded against what? Radio waves?” Charles asked. “FLIR?”
“That and a lot more, I bet. There's probably no way we're getting tracked until we get out of here,” Lang said.
“Tracked how?” Charles asked.
“Microchip tracked, by our people. We all have chips, for situations like these,” Lang said. The guards looked at Charles.
“Oh, I get it.” Charles shut up about it, then.
“It's alright. I'm sure they know we have them, or at least suspect. Unless they don't know about them, or don't shield for them, and in that case, I should think our help will be here, soon,” Lang said.
“God, I hope so,” Wendy said, looking scared and pale.
“Me, too, honey,” the prof held her hand, looking quite pale as well.
“Not used to this yet, professor?” Lang smiled. “I thought you'd be getting used to the wild life by now.”
“No.” The prof shook his head. “I like my desk job in the lab. This stuff is way out of my comfort zone.”
“Mine too, to tell you the truth,” Lang said. “I'd much rather we have a world at peace where this sort of thing doesn't happen. Hopefully, we can still bring that about.”
“You think there's still hope, now?” Charles asked.
“I do. What else can we think?” Lang said.
They fell quiet as the truck bumped down the road, going to a place unknown, for a purpose unknown.
***
In an old castle in Prague, an alarm went off.
A red light came on the computer panel of one of the Guild's workers in the control room. Here were rows of computer screens monitoring the activities of members of the Guild all over the world.
There was a large map of the world in front on a screen, and points of light indicated where Guild members were at all times. This was the center of their own worldwide, private and secure communications system.
The alarm was due to Lang and his group suddenly going “off the grid” as it was called; their tracking biochips disappearing from the network. This would only happen to a group of the Guild at once if the chips were all deactivated at the same time, or the members taken to a place where their biochips could not be read by satellites.