The Portent

by Michael S. Heiser

  “Do you believe in coincidences on such a grand scale?” asked Malone. “I thought you believed in intelligent evil—and providence.”

  “I do, on both counts, but that doesn’t address the question of whether these agenda items are really motivated by intent.”

  “We’re not saying everyone—or even most people—who hold power in these areas are involved,” Malone went on. “We’re saying that there are enough people in important positions of power who are committed to these ideas that it matters. We don’t believe in conspiracy theories like an Illuminati running everything. Even if one exists, you don’t need it. All you need is enough people of power and wealth to believe in a set of ideas, along with enough arrogance to think that they should be part of a global ruling class. I’d say that’s quite theologically consistent with both human nature and intelligent evil.”

  “Well, put that way, I can’t really disagree. It’s just hard to believe.”

  “Because you don’t want to believe it,” Neff said. “We understand that feeling all too well. You need to read the CIA’s National Intelligence Council report called ‘Global Governance 2025.’ It’s on the flash drive. It was written in 2010. I printed off the preface, since I figured we’d get to this point in the conversation.” Neff handed Brian a single piece of paper.

  The United States’ National Intelligence Council (NIC) and the European Union’s Institute for Security Studies (EUISS) have joined forces to produce this assessment of the long-term prospects for global governance frameworks … The US and the EU do not always see eye to eye on every issue on the international agenda, but they share fundamental values and strategic interests to an extent not matched by any other partners in the world. Transatlantic agreement is no longer enough to effectively manage global challenges. Doing so will require renewed efforts to address governance gaps and strengthen multilateralism, in partnership with other pivotal centers of power and with the international community at large.

  “Does that sound like there’s no intent behind global governance?”

  “Well … no.”

  Neff looked at his watch. “We could go on and on with other examples. We deal with this stuff with disturbing regularity. We have an associate who devotes her full time to researching all of it and archiving resources. We live with it.”

  “Well, I promise to read through as much of what’s on the flash as I can over the next few weeks. I can see some relationship …” He hesitated.

  Neff and Malone immediately heightened their attention. “Such as?” Neff asked cautiously, trying to gain a sense of what Brian was thinking.

  “Well, the US intelligence community has a long history of using its resources to manipulate thought—to frame peoples’ perception of reality. UFOs and the alien question have historically been a part of that.”

  “You mean things like Operation Mockingbird? COINTELPRO?” Malone asked.

  “No, I’m not familiar with those. What were they?”

  “Mockingbird was a CIA program used in the fifties to manipulate members of the mass media. The 1976 Senate Report on it is on the flash drive. COINTELPRO had different aims, like infiltrating and disrupting political groups—basically to interfere with the democratic process. The program used psychological warfare and illegal activities—stuff like burglary and vandalism, all the way up to discussing assassination.”

  “Anything on the flash about that?” Brian asked.

  “Yeah, the final report of the Church Committee. That was 1976, too,” Malone replied.

  “So what were you thinking about?” Neff pressed.

  “Several things. ECM Research, Project PALLADIUM …”

  “What’s ECM?”

  “Electronic Counter Measures. Basically, it’s technology that the CIA used to create false radar readings. It goes back to the fifties as well. Dr. Leon Davidson—who had worked on the Manhattan Project—said publicly that the CIA had used this technology to create phony flying saucer sightings. They could put phantom saucers of any size, going at crazy speeds, on radar—but it was all contrived. But to me, what Wernher von Braun said was scarier.”

  “What did he say?”

  “What I’m thinking of comes through his former spokesperson, Dr. Carol Rosin. She was a missile defense consultant to several agencies in the intelligence community. Back in the seventies, she was the corporate manager at something called Fairchild Industries, an aircraft company. That’s where she met von Braun, who was dying of cancer at the time. Rosin testified that she and von Braun talked about aliens—what he called ‘off planet cultures’—several times. But there’s more than one way to take what he told her. If you have a second, I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”

  “Sure,” Malone said, turning his open laptop toward him. Brian quickly navigated to a search engine and produced a transcript of UFO witness testimony given by Rosin. “Here.” Malone and Neff looked at the screen and read Rosin’s words:

  What was most interesting to me was a repetitive sentence that von Braun said to me over and over again during the approximately four years that I had the opportunity to work with him. He said the strategy that was being used to educate the public and decision makers was to use scare tactics.… That was how we identify an enemy.

  The strategy that Werner von Braun taught me was that first the Russians are going to be considered the enemy.

  Then terrorists would be identified, and that was soon to follow.… Then we were going to identify third-world country “crazies.” We now call them “nations of concern.” But he said that would be the third enemy against whom we would build space-bead weapons.

  The next enemy was asteroids. Now, at this point, he kind of chuckled the first time he said it. Asteroids—against asteroids we are going to build space-based weapons.

  And the funniest one of all was what he called aliens, extraterrestrials. That would be the final scare. And over and over during the four years that I knew him and was giving speeches for him, he would bring up that last card. “And remember, Carol, the last card is the alien card. We are going to have to build space-based weapons against aliens, and all of it is a lie.”

  “This is the kind of thing that troubles me,” Brian explained, again being careful to cloak the depth of his personal attachment to the issue. “People who want to believe there are aliens will assume the lie von Braun refers to is that the aliens are hostile. But what if the lie is that there are aliens at all? Von Braun is suggesting that the military-industrial complex will use all these points of fear to justify militarizing space and producing all sorts of exotic technology in the name of defense.”

  “Which would then, in turn, be used against its own citizens—like drones are now,” Malone followed. “All of the ways the government collects information on us and spies on citizens. You think the alien idea would be useful to erect a police state.”

  “Well, that’s one application,” Brian said, choosing his words carefully, “but there’s nothing in the public arena to really prove that something like that is in operation. I just see how it could work. Frankly, something that paradigm stretching could be used to make people believe almost anything.”

  27

  I do not believe in a fate that falls on men however they act; but I do believe in a fate that falls on them unless they act.

  —G. K. Chesterton

  “All done with the end-of-semester death march?” Dee asked, looking over her glasses at Melissa with a friendly, knowing smirk as they sat in the cafeteria.

  “I’m done with everything I have to do here, anyway,” Melissa said, opening the plastic lid of her salad. “I still have a little grading to do. I just didn’t want to take committee work home. Skipped lunch to get it all done. Brian will be here in an hour, but I just have to eat something now. I’m famished.”

  “You sure?” asked Malcolm. “Your salad looks like it’s been sitting a while. The place is all but cleared out.”

  “I’ll nibble on the croutons if I ha
ve to.”

  “Why not come with us tonight? We’re out of here in less than an hour.”

  “What’s tonight?”

  “The Christmas reception for faculty and administration?” he answered. “Did you forget?”

  “Oh, that. I’m really not into receptions and parties. How would you know about that anyway?”

  “Neff and Malone are going, now that they’ve been grounded. They insisted we tag along. He assumed you and Brian were going. We told them we’d see if you were still in your office and that we’d meet them here in the cafeteria.”

  “Grounded?”

  “They were going to visit one of their orphanages,” Dee informed her, “but the airport is closed down because of the snow. Are you sure Brian can get here? It’s getting nasty out there. I heard we’ve got a foot on the ground already, and from the look outside, it’s not slowing down.”

  Melissa looked out through one of the windows. “I didn’t even notice. There are no windows in my office. But Brian will be here. He’d come even if he had to walk to tell me we’re stranded.”

  “Why don’t the two of you just hang with us then?” asked Malcolm.

  “I just want to stretch out and relax, especially in my condition.”

  “I hear that,” Dee followed. “Pregnancy takes a lot out of you.”

  “Besides, Brian would rather wait on me at home than do anything social.” When Malcolm and Dee laughed, Melissa continued. “I’m not kidding,” she said, picking through her salad, chuckling at her own words. “He’s a homebody zealot. I hardly have to do anything. He does the cleaning and the laundry, loads the dishes, takes out the trash—really he does everything except cook. He’d starve without frozen pizza and macaroni and cheese.”

  “Sounds like you have it pretty good,” Dee suggested, glancing at Malcolm while Melissa was distracted by a tomato. He caught her drift.

  “Brian has a lot of laudable character traits, but ‘fun-loving’ isn’t one of them—trust me. Honestly, though, it suits me. I’m not really one to hit the town, either. And we’ve had to be cautious.”

  “So what’s it been like?” Malcolm asked.

  “What?”

  “You know, living with Brian. What’s it been like?”

  Melissa sat back, an amused look on her face, eyeing both of them. She started to laugh and shook her head.

  “What is it?” asked Malcolm mischievously.

  “Some of the stuff he’s done, you’d think I was making it up.” She laughed again. “I shouldn’t talk about him, though.”

  “But you want to,” Dee teased, grinning.

  “Absolutely.”

  “So dish, honey.”

  “We’re all friends,” Malcolm added, putting on his most sincere expression. “You know he’d laugh too if he were here.”

  Melissa nodded agreeably. “He’s so socially awkward, but it’s actually endearing, most of the time. He can be like a teenager.”

  “I can see that,” Dee agreed, smiling and leaning forward.

  “When we moved here, we obviously had nothing, so we had to do a lot of shopping. Buying clothes for him was an exercise in patience, let me tell you. It was like he had no concept of the sort of thing a married man in his thirties should be wearing.”

  “He probably doesn’t. He’s been alone since leaving for college,” said Dee. “There’s never been a woman in his life. You can’t expect much.”

  “I didn’t, but I was still unprepared for it. He told me one day he was going to Walmart to shop for clothing, but I threatened him with divorce if he did it.”

  “Excellent!” Malcolm laughed.

  “Then, when we did go shopping, it was all blue jeans, sneakers, underwear, football jerseys—you get the idea.”

  “So how did you win the argument?” Dee asked, enjoying the description. “He looks just fine, so I know you did.”

  “I told him that if he didn’t dress well enough, no one would believe I’d married him. That buried every objection,” she explained with a satisfied smile.

  “No doubt,” Dee said. “I remember some of our conversations back at the base. He’s got some self-esteem issues.”

  “He’s getting better. He’s had to in order to make our little façade believable.” She started chuckling to herself again.

  “What now?”

  “I was just thinking of our first ‘married date.’ It was unforgettable, but in all the wrong ways. We went out for dinner at the only nice restaurant in town. Right as we were finishing our meal, he leaned over in a panic to tell me he left his wallet in the car. I told him I had my purse, but he was embarrassed at the thought that someone would see the woman paying for the dinner.”

  “Did you have a fight?”

  “No. That may have been better, though.”

  “This oughta be good,” Dee cracked, glancing at Malcolm.

  “He got up to go out to the car but didn’t look behind him. He elbowed a plate right out of a waitress’s hand. Most of what was on it wound up on the floor, but some landed in a customer’s lap.”

  Malcolm hooted, clapping his hands. “Did you get any video?”

  “I’m not through—or I should say, he wasn’t through,” she added over their laughter. “The waitress and the manager had to talk him out of helping to clean up the mess. This is in front of a dozen or so people, mind you. After he sat down, I tried to hold his hand and tell him it was okay, and he flinched like a bug had crawled on him. He told me later he just didn’t expect it. Needless to say, we got out as soon as we could.”

  The table shook as Malcolm slapped it, laughing hysterically. Melissa tried to return to her salad, but she couldn’t from the sight of Dee, who was laughing so hard that tears filled her eyes.

  “We’re making a scene,” Melissa finally warned, gaining her composure.

  “Oh, who cares?” Dee said with a sniff.

  “Man, that’s sweet!” Malcolm exclaimed. “I’m sure that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “Trust me, it is,” Melissa agreed. “It feels good to laugh, though, even if it’s at his expense.”

  “Well, despite his misadventures in other areas, Brian sure has good taste in diamonds,” Dee said, looking at Melissa’s hand. “Or did you pick out that rock?”

  Melissa held up her hand, gazing at the gem for a few moments. “We picked out the bands together, to keep up with appearances,” she said, “but he bought the engagement ring himself. I’ll admit, it’s fabulous.” She turned her hand, looking at the ring once more. “He spent too much, though,” she added. “He paid for it out of his own money and wouldn’t tell me what it cost.” She showed it to Malcolm.

  “I don’t think I would have, either,” Malcolm said, eyebrows raised, taking a good look. “The other night when we were at your place, I remember hearing how he gave you most of the money that Neil and Father Benedict had given him. He must have blown it all on this. It’s huge.”

  “I don’t know what he has left,” Melissa said wistfully. “We use a joint checking account to help maintain our married identity, but he won’t touch it. He insists it’s mine and refuses to buy anything personal with it. I know he bought a laptop and a lot of books besides the ring, so he might not have a dime left of his own. He won’t tell me.”

  Malcolm and Dee looked at each other again, then at Melissa.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Melissa,” Dee said in a serious tone, “what we really want to know is how you are with your situation … with Brian.”

  Melissa’s eyes dropped to the table. She sat thoughtfully for a few moments. “I’m okay. Life with him is, well …”

  “You’re happy,” Dee supplied the term with a knowing look. “And you don’t really know how to process it.”

  Melissa paused again, but this time only for a second. “You know,” she acknowledged, “you’re right. That’s a good way to describe it. As odd as it sounds, I’ve been happy—except, of course, for the circumstances th
at put me here. I never would have expected it. I’m living in the middle of nowhere, teaching undergrads who scarcely know why they’re here or what they want to do with their lives, but every time my mind isn’t seized with terror at the thought of getting caught, I feel … content.”

  “You know that wouldn’t be the case if Brian hadn’t come with you.”

  “I know,” she said. “I—” She stopped short. Dee and Malcolm could see the misty look in her eyes. “Shrink,” Melissa said good-naturedly, wiping her eyes with a paper napkin. The other two chuckled.

  “That’s what I do, honey. If you weren’t happy, we’d all know. We remember the angry Melissa.”

  “I made sure of that, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did,” Malcolm agreed. “But the old things have passed away.”

  “It’s strange,” Melissa mused, “I have a lot of things to be angry about now, but I’m not. I’m scared, but I don’t have the edge any more. The rage is missing. And every time I think about what Brian did … well … he didn’t have to come here. It was a crazy decision.”

  “Not for him,” Malcolm said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, really, what—”

  “Come on, Melissa. Brian loves you. And I’m not talking about being smitten or some infatuation. He loves you more than his own life.”

  Melissa sat silently, looking from Malcolm to Dee.

  “As much as I relish contradicting Malcolm any chance I get,” Dee said, “I have to agree with him. This one doesn’t need a diagnosis—it’s obvious. We saw it already back at the base.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Melissa replied faintly.

  “Why?” asked Malcolm.

  “He’s never said anything like that. Frankly, he says almost nothing about what he thinks or feels. I don’t go fishing—too much, anyway. But there have been opportunities for him to open up, and he just won’t.”

  “Why do you care?” Dee wondered, looking her in the eye.

  “I … I just want to know where things stand,” she answered calmly, straightening herself in the chair, returning Dee’s gaze. “After all, we live together. I’m grateful he’s here and that I’m not alone. It’s just good to know.”