The Portent
Page 30
“You should appreciate the gift.”
“Whatever. If he didn’t heal me, the whole thing was a premeditated deception designed to make us believe he was extraterrestrial. If he was really an alien, you wouldn’t have needed to deceive us.”
“But he communicated with you, and with others.”
“Something was inside our heads, but I don’t think it was Adam. It makes no sense that something who could do that couldn’t also heal me. So why the ruse?”
“Maybe he’s alien but not a healer. Maybe we thought a healing would take you off the fence of unbelief.”
“Major Sheppard told us that you could create the Adam we experienced.”
“Are you sure he wasn’t lying?”
“He was ready to lose his life to have that conversation. I believe him. It may shock you, but some people can feel guilty enough about the crap they’ve done to try to make amends.”
“How sentimental. What else did Sheppard tell you?”
Brian thought for a moment, not only for memory’s sake but also to weigh his response. “He told us that he saw another creature at the base, one that was very tall.… He said he saw it kill Kevin Garvey but wasn’t sure exactly how. Sheppard was the one who’d given him directions for access and was hiding in the Auroral room. I don’t know what he saw, but if it was a real extraterrestrial and you wanted us to believe in them, you could have made that meeting happen. You didn’t.”
“Well, there you have it,” the Colonel answered coolly.
“There I have what?”
“He lied. I killed Garvey. I killed him just before I went to our meeting and invented the heart-attack explanation.”
Brian balked at the brazen admission. He tried to retrace the events of Kevin’s death through his mind—the layout of the base facilities, the timing of the Colonel’s presence at their meeting—but the details were blurry.
“I can certainly believe you’d do it,” he finally responded, “but regardless of what really happened to Kevin, I still believe Sheppard’s explanation of what was going on, at least as far as he knew.”
“Why?”
“The phony bodies Melissa and I found in our beds. Sheppard said you could do that with nanotechnology. It’s a workable explanation. The bodies would have nothing to do with anything alien. It was another misdirection.”
“More like a demonstration,” the Colonel corrected him. “Sheppard was wrong about that, too—at least about how we did it. We don’t need nanotechnology for that, though it could add some nice effects. You must realize that Sheppard was muscle, a paid assassin, not a scientist. All we need to create bodies like you saw is a DNA sample and a 3-D printer. We had those devices long before the public knew about them. Should I describe the process?”
“Sure.”
“I thought you’d be interested,” he said with a knowing expression. “We had your DNA as soon as you got to the base, of course. Any number of items were useful for that—blood taken from you while you were sleeping, a single hair collected during housekeeping, and so on. Once we reconstructed a DNA sequence, we compared it to millions of other sequences that are part of the human genome database. Based on that comparison, we learned about your ancestry and a range of genetic markers, some of which relate to things like body type, facial features, and hair color. We add other known elements, like your age, weight, and height. Those data get put into a computer, which in turn tells our 3-D printer what to produce. The printer utilizes a chemical mixture that’s similar in composition to artificial skin that is produced around the world today in hospitals and burn centers. The goal, of course, is a familiar look and feel. With me so far?”
Brian nodded.
“So what’s the obvious gap at this point?”
“Adam,” Brian replied without hesitation. “You had no DNA sample to make him. Consequently, he was something else, or he was made through a different process.”
“Excellent,” the Colonel said. “You are indeed paying attention. So hear this clearly.” The Colonel leaned in toward Brian, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. “There are no extraterrestrials, Dr. Scott,” he said in a low voice, “except the ones we make. And if there are no real aliens, there are no real alien hybrids, unless we make those as well. All that is another way of saying your intuition about Adam was correct, even though you lacked knowledge of the method.” He sat back.
“So what’s the process?” Brian asked, deciding to press for as much information as he could while the Colonel was predisposed.
“Have you ever heard of synthetic biology?”
“Yes, but I doubt that I could define it accurately.”
“Then let’s begin with some things with which you’re vaguely familiar. You know about nanotechnology, of course. That’s essentially about creating working machines at the nanoscale from existing material, such as DNA, and then assigning certain tasks to those machines. Genetics and genetic engineering are, of course, about DNA. Scientists safely inside the secrecy of the military industrial complex that you were exposed to this summer have been working in both those fields for some time now.”
“How is synthetic biology different?”
“In terms of public science—the kind that operates under the auspices of law and public scrutiny and the wider scientific guild—synthetic biology is still largely the stuff of science fiction. At Dreamland we’re playing in our own sandbox, as you well know. To put it simply, synthetic biology is artificial. It’s the ability to construct or redesign biological organisms from the elemental level on up. In other words, today we have the capability not only to read and use DNA—we can write it. Do you understand the implications?”
Brian looked down at his untouched meal, trying to process what he was being told. It didn’t take much imagination, especially in the context of his present company. “Whoever can do that can create life—new life forms that have never existed,” he said. “It’s well beyond splicing DNA and altering a life form’s genetic code. A capability like that means you’re as God—or gods, if you prefer.”
“I do.” A sinister chuckle escaped from the Colonel’s curled lip. “You’re correct. We can create life forms as we see fit. Biologically speaking, this also explains Adam’s consciousness, though not necessarily his communicative powers. Many higher animals have consciousness ‘according to their kind,’ to borrow a biblical phrase. Dogs, cats, elephants—those sorts of animals with higher brain function—have dog, cat, and elephant consciousness, if you will. They can remember, respond to non-verbal cues, be trained to behave contrary to natural instinct. All of that is produced by their biology.”
“So Adam was essentially a skinny, gray, upright puppy?”
The Colonel smiled darkly. “You have such a knack for distilling complicated things in memorable ways. That’s far more droll than calling him a biobot. Yes, that’s a workable understanding.”
“So what about the communication?”
“That came from another source—but that’s a peripheral matter for now. I want to venture down the road of synthetic biology a bit more with you. Now that you understand the biological power we wield, I’m sure you can imagine the application. What might we do as gods with synthetic biology?”
“From what I’ve heard,” Brian began, choosing his words thoughtfully, “a catalyst for moving the world to believe that extraterrestrial life is real is completely within your grasp. You don’t need an actual panspermia discovery. You don’t need NASA to go public with some organism found on a Mars rock. You can just make the biological proof yourself, at will—DNA that has never been known on earth and whose composition can’t occur naturally on earth in any evolutionary circumstance. You’d only need to concoct a scenario for public consumption as to how the life form was ‘discovered.’ And that would depend only on its nature—is it microscopic, or a large, intelligent being? And since so few know what was done to fabricate the proof, the world’s scientists would be in the dark. They’d have no ammunition for denia
l.”
“Precisely—and well said,” the Colonel replied with an arrogant tone of approval.
“It begs a question, though,” Brian added. “If you’re capable of all this, why scoop us all up this past summer and feed us a bogus environmental scenario, followed by a contrived ET disclosure plan? You don’t need any of that if you can write your own extraterrestrial DNA.”
“There are many ways to answer that,” the Colonel replied.
Brian could tell from his tone that he was being forthright, but had no idea why.
“For one, last summer the Group never actually got down to mapping out how their ET disclosure plan would work. Synthetic biology would eventually have become part of the conversation. For another, our plans are not the Group’s plans. Don’t presume that the Group’s strategy reflects our agenda.”
Brian sat up straight in the booth, his surprise evident. “So … you were part of the Group but were working against them?”
“I wouldn’t say against. The Group proved useful at times. Indifferent probably captures our attitude more accurately. You must realize that even in the world of black-op projects, there are competing agendas.”
“You keep saying ‘we’ and ‘our.’ Who is ‘we’?”
The Colonel sat back again, cocking his head to one side. Brian could tell he was thinking about how to answer.
“Me and my … associates.”
“Oh, that’s clear.”
“Trust me, doctor, it will become frighteningly clear. But you’ll have to work for the more transparent answer. Waiting for people like you and Benedict to experience the terror of such discoveries is what keeps me entertained.”
50
No enterprise is more likely to succeed than one concealed from the enemy until it is ripe for execution.
—Niccolò Machiavelli
The Colonel pushed his empty plate to the side before continuing. “Understanding the power of synthetic biology is fundamental to discerning what lies on the horizon. It not only allows us to create life, but also to create and mold thought. And thought, or belief, is the primary mover.”
“You’re talking about giving life to myths—like new Nephilim?”
The Colonel smirked. “That was part of the Group’s thinking. We’re not so naïve. Once they saw your credentials, it wasn’t hard to convince them to get you involved. They viewed you—as do I—as useful. Our reasons for that assessment, though, are miles apart.”
“The Group would have known I wasn’t buying the idea.”
“They could see you were hesitant. That was partly why they decided to allow me to introduce all of you to Adam.”
“But a scrawny, gray alien? Even if I believed he was real, the relationship to Nephilim wasn’t at all coherent.”
“Agreed. Frankly, the Group was too influenced by simplistic end-times thinking. They presumed you’d buy what other Christians interested in these subjects were selling. Have you ever heard of the Collins Elite?”
Brian rolled his eyes.
“I see from your reaction that you have. I share your low estimation, but you should know that they’re real.”
“Seriously? There’s a secret, informal faction of Christians inside the intelligence community that talks about creating an American Christian theocracy to protect us from demons riding around in UFOs?”
“As absurd as it sounds, the answer is yes,” the Colonel said with no hint he was kidding. “Many of its members are DIA and Air Force intelligence.”
“They’re theologically under-informed, if they’re real.”
“Again, I agree, but you have to admit their flawed thinking would resonate with many of your fellow travelers—how we need to conform society to God’s laws so that God would be predisposed to bless this wonderful country and save it from invading demonic hordes. I know that pains you, but many would think it reasonable. This sort of theocratic thinking is plied by the power-hungry right-wing in American politics. Some of the Collins Elite have also found a home within The Family.”
“The Family? What’s that?”
“Not what, but who,” the Colonel corrected him. “The Family is a vast network of evangelical Christians who have very serious political ambitions. It was established in 1935 to oppose FDR and his New Deal. They’ve been the force behind every Washington Prayer Breakfast since 1953. They have deep connections with members of Congress, the Supreme Court, and of course Washington’s military and intelligence agencies. Their agenda is simple: They want a Christian state—a benevolent theocracy, as they’d cast it. But let’s not get distracted by what’s behind the American political charade.”
Brian sighed and shrugged.
“You should know that the Collins Elite has something of a history with the Group.”
“How so?”
“The Group introduced one of their own into the Elite to learn what they were thinking. They liked the Elite’s notion that UFOs are demons or piloted by demons from another dimension—opened by occultists like Aleister Crowley and Jack Parsons, the founder of JPL. Recall that the Collins Elite was formed in response to the activities of those occultists, and the UFO angle eventually became a significant focus. The specific demonic connection to UFOs became grist for the Group’s mill. Frankly, it went to their heads and became the linchpin for their own over-reaching fantasy of a global police state. Once a strategy for that began to take shape, they leaked elements of it to the outside in an effort to conduct what one might call a disinformation thought experiment. I’m sure you’ve heard of Project Blue Beam.”
Brian nodded. “So the Group poisoned the mind of that guy from Quebec who published the Blue Beam book? I can’t remember his name, but he died young—more of your work?”
“His name was Serge Monast, and no, in this instance neither I nor anyone in the Group can take credit for his death. Monast was a Christian fundamentalist and an easy target, given his distrust of the Canadian government and his desire to see Quebec secede. Think we could find anyone like that in the Tea Party today?” he taunted.
Brian said nothing, knowing the answer was obvious.
“Like I said, Blue Beam was a thought experiment. The Group combined elements of the theology of the Collins Elite with science-fiction scenarios—from Gene Roddenberry of Star Trek fame, to be precise—in order to incrementally plant the idea that NASA and the UN were conspiring to install a global New Age religion and the New World Order with the antichrist as its leader. Lots of gullible Christians bought it, and still do.”
“So that’s something you aren’t on board with?”
“It’s far too impractical. Think about what Blue Beam included: artificially created earthquakes, an aerial display of spaceships projected onto the sky in three-dimensional holograms, electronic telepathy imposed on the masses, a faked rapture, and then a staged alien invasion—for what? To convince earth’s religions that their God was on the scene or to start a nuclear war so that that the UN could intervene and subsequently be put in place as earth’s protector? It makes no sense at all.”
“Can’t you do those things? What about HAARP?”
“We can do all of them, but only in isolated contexts, which means the entire scenario is terribly vulnerable. There are so many things that can go wrong or that cannot be controlled. While HAARP can be used to transform the sky into a screen, it can’t transform the sky all over the globe, only a handful of square miles. What’s more, a single radar scan from a single airport from anywhere in the region would fail to detect a solid object. The whole idea of faking a UFO armada is fraught with difficulties. But it doesn’t seem that the Christian conspiracists hawking the idea have a firm grasp on any of the weaknesses.”
“Can’t you use your own UFOs?”
“We don’t have enough. The world is a very big place, professor. And think of what else Blue Beam would require. How could earthquakes all over the world be caused? HAARP and other technologies can cause weather and geological phenomena here and there, but no
t on a global scale. After all, prophecies of the end times pertain to the whole world, not just the places most densely populated by evangelical Christians who buy into the kind of literal tribulation we’re talking about,” he added with contempt. “And it’s absolutely sophomoric to think the world’s religions would believe their God drives a spaceship. I don’t have to convince you of that.”
“No, you don’t,” Brian replied, “In today’s world, people would flood the Internet and all their social connections with what they were hearing from a phony saucer God. As soon as followers of the world’s religions started posting messages that contradicted other religions about what the space God was saying, the whole notion of uniting the world’s religions would fall apart. Couldn’t the Group see these problems?”
“Certain members of the Group did see the weaknesses of the idea. The Group began to think about how the idea of alien disclosure could be used in other ways—ways that would allow them to peacefully gain control. A kinder, gentler worldview coup would still allow them to gain control. It seemed more reasonable and more workable.”
“I’m guessing we were part of that new angle—especially me and Melissa—to probe us for how disclosure might work with respect to the religious world.”
“That you were. An alien disclosure could steer the masses toward the political Utopia the Group would craft and control. For example, disclosure might come with the promise of technological solutions to problems of energy, climate, or disease. The Group could use synthetic biology and nanotechnology to create an alien organism that, say, cured cancer or produced an alternative fuel. Mere acknowledgement by the nation’s highest officials that a ‘genuine’ extraterrestrial discovery led to this incredible blessing would fire the imaginations of millions, convincing them that intelligent ET life must be out there and that it offers the prospect for solving all earth’s problems and the next phase of human evolution.”
“You’ve already acknowledged you’re going to use synthetic biology to move people toward the belief that ET life is real,” Brian interjected. “Sounds to me like your thinking isn’t entirely different than the Group’s.”