The House of Rumour

by Jake Arnott

  I know now what happened in that mansion in Manhattan Beach. At the time I was a confused child, made to think of it all as a game. They took pictures of me. Some as a Grey alien, some of me naked. I was made to pose with other kids, with adults. Then there were parties where me and other children were made to work the room. The cult used blackmail as control. Operation Paperclip was a secret mission to recruit Nazi scientists after the war. Their files would be sheep-dipped. That meant they would falsify their employment records, clear them of war crimes, cover up the fact that they had been Nazi Party members.

  Most important of all were the rocket scientists and the ones who had been experimenting with anti-gravity technology. That’s why they needed pictures of aliens: to spread rumours about the Greys, to hide the fact that the Nazis were in possession of advanced interplanetary knowledge and had now established themselves in America. That was the cult that used me and countless other children. And every new religion needs a new devil to blame the bad things in creation on. Something to frighten people. The Grey alien became a sort of scientific Satan.

  And when they had finished posing me and the other children as Greys, they would take pornographic photographs and get us ready for the evening parties. It has taken me a long time to recover the awful memories from that time. For many years I suffered from traumatic amnesia. Now I can recall everything, just as I can recall many of my past lives.

  I was abused not merely for pleasure but as a form of control for the people who attended the parties. Influential figures that the cult could use: the rich, the powerful. I remember how I watched them and felt their desires, their ambition. Their fear. They weren’t necessarily paedophiles; often our job was to trick them. Drunk or drugged, the guests could be fooled into incriminating positions. I remember Walt Disney and Wernher von Braun. I remember Ronald Reagan and Howard Hughes.

  And I remember the devil. I mean, the real devil. He ran the show and sometimes he would appear in person. In disguise. He wore a lounge suit and dark glasses. He had a little goatee beard. He smiled and spoke softly but when he took his sunglasses off you could see the infinite cruelty in his eyes. Red-lined, the whites yellow as brimstone, jet-black irises like scorch marks burning into you, making you do whatever he pleased. He cast a spell with a simple gesture, a sign of abominable power.

  The devil’s device is a five-pointed star, inverted so that the two points stick up like horns. Like legs in the air. You see, the pentagram is a benign symbol when it is the right way up. It represents humanity. A human figure, star-shaped, with the head on top, two arms, two legs. But when it gets turned upside down, it loses all reason. Its genitalia are exposed and above all the other organs of the body. Then the head is at the lowest point, where the private parts should be, the mind hanging down, all dizzy and shameless. Every man and every woman is a star but when they get turned over they become a fallen star, a fallen angel, a demon. A slave to desire and debasement. This is how the devil exerts his power. The devil knows all about sex, you see.

  The devil taught me. Just as my mother and my stepfather did. And all the casting directors that Mother told me to be nice to. Dexter Roth was the first person I met in show business who didn’t want to demean me. He cast me in Fugitive Alien because he said I had a luminous kind of innocence. He saw that I could have been the right kind of star. By that time I had forgotten all about the cult in Manhattan Beach, but when we started rehearsing all these strange flashbacks came to me. I got to know Larry Zagorski when he was doing the rewrites. He seemed to understand me. Dexter encouraged me to go deep into my character, to imagine what it would actually be like to meet someone from another world. I know now that this was a message because one night after filming I saw my first flying saucer hovering over the Hollywood Hills.

  The film itself used actual footage of a UFO. It’s become quite well known; people still remember me from it. A ‘cult’ movie, they call it: now, doesn’t that tell you something? Mary-Lou Gunderson who directed it was a bit cold towards me. Maybe she knew that I had been involved with the house at Manhattan Beach and Operation Paperclip. It was those people who killed her ex-lover, the rocket scientist Jack Parsons, by blowing up his laboratory. He knew too many of their secrets and had planned to use his technical skills in Israel. The Nazis certainly didn’t want the Jews to have their own missile programme.

  But wait a minute, no. This was after we’d finished filming. No, I think Mary-Lou was hostile because she and Larry had had something in the past. Larry always claimed that they’d never slept together but he was certainly still in love with her when we started dating. It didn’t bother me to begin with but I didn’t realise then what a mess Larry was in.

  At first, you see, he’d listen to what I had to say. He’d let me talk without interrupting. And I thought he understood. I read everything that he wrote when we first started seeing each other and it all made sense to me. The problem was that he didn’t understand his own writing. He didn’t understand how he was being used. They had got to him and were using him to send messages. He didn’t even know it.

  I saw all the good things in Larry then. We fell in love and got married. But it was me that supported us both, before he’d had any real success with his books. I’d imagined that writers could make good money just by getting their stuff into print, but this wasn’t the case. Larry worked like a demon: he sold stories to magazines and wrote the occasional script for the Dimension X radio programme. But they didn’t pay that well. Then he had a couple of short novels published. Larry complained that they paid only a five-hundred-dollar advance with little chance of royalties. He hardly made enough money to keep going without me.

  I was struggling to make some sort of career for myself. I was the female lead in a couple of B-movies: Dead Men’s Tales and Dangerous Juvenile; I got a small part in The Blue Gardenia. All the time I was preyed upon by directors, producers, studio men. I even tried to get Larry more screenwriting work but he wasn’t interested. Oh no, he always had a story to finish or a great novel to start.

  I’d come home from work to find him unshaven and barely dressed, hammering away on his typewriter in a sort of trance. He hardly noticed me when he was inspired. I often wondered where all this writing came from. It’s all out there somewhere, isn’t it? You have to tune in and it all gets typed out. But I learnt this only later when I met the Watchers.

  I know that people now think of me as the crazy one in that marriage but both me and Larry had psychological problems. And it was Larry who was taking all those drugs, drinking all the time. Gin or vodka or both, with lime juice and lots of sugar. He’d picked up a reefer habit, too, from Nemo, his Cuban friend he wrote the film with. Then there was all his prescribed medication. Semoxydrine for his anxiety, Nembutal to help him sleep, and any number of other drugs he tried along the way. He became quite the pharmacist, knowing all these pills with names as curious as the alien life in his fiction. It became a running joke that he would be ‘on planet Dexedrine’ or ‘in the fabled city of Pentobarbital’.

  Larry tried to blame his mental instabilities on his wartime experiences but I knew that his problems were deeper than that. Neurotic conditions, labyrinthitis, vertigo, agoraphobia. He’d been seeing a psychiatrist before the war. He had all these confused feelings of guilt and anxiety, mostly about his mother who, of course, never approved of me. And I had my own troubled childhood to deal with. An irresponsible mother, who taught me to always act seductively towards men. A stepfather, transformed from a kind and gentle man into a monster after a few drinks. When Larry was in liquor it would sometimes bring back awful memories.

  ‘There ain’t no devil, Sharleen,’ Stepfather would slur with bleary and lustful eyes. ‘It’s just God when he’s drunk.’

  I went to a Dianetics therapist once. They did something called ‘auditing’ with this funny little machine like a lie detector called an ‘e-meter’. They said they could clear me of all the bad stuff in my head from the past. Larry didn’t approve
. He said it was all baloney. He made me promise not to go again but he also asked me all these questions about it, like he was really curious. It was from the auditing that I first learnt about my past lives and started to have a clear idea of what had really happened in my childhood.

  Nineteen-fifty-six was a really big year. I got a small part in the television soap opera A Family Practice. I played Nancy, a new character to the series, a secretary in the Henderson law firm. It was hard to know whether Nancy would become a regular or not: there were hints of a romantic storyline between her and Adam Henderson, the son of Buck Henderson, the gruff patriarch of the show. But Buck didn’t approve of his son’s interest in Nancy, the flirtatious blonde, so it could go either way. There was a chance of some stability in our lives for a while. Back then I was happy to work so that Larry could write at home and not worry about the bills. That was before I found out what was really going on.

  Nineteen-fifty-six was a big year all right. It was the year of the flood.

  It was in November that me and Larry went along to a meeting of a local flying saucer club. This was unusual: Larry had cut himself off from all sorts of social groups that might have interested him in the past. He had long since stopped attending the Los Angeles Science Fiction Society that met at Clifton’s Cafeteria. He said that he didn’t want to get stuck in what he called the ‘SF ghetto’. But a member of this club had written a charming letter, inviting Larry to talk about his work. I think it gave him some encouragement. Anyway, we were treated like celebrities. Larry pretended that he didn’t care for all the attention but you could tell that secretly he loved it. Actually, I think that he was even slightly resentful of the fact that more people knew who I was that night. Some of them had seen me in Fugitive Alien; a few recognised me from A Family Practice. And after Larry had talked, as many of them wanted to ask me questions as they did him. I saw him frowning when I told everybody that I had seen a flying saucer. So I got him to talk about the strange ‘foo fighters’ that he had witnessed during the war when he was in the air force.

  At the end of the meeting a woman called Martha came up to me and Larry. She said that she was part of a group called the Watchers who met in a community church near by. It was a kind of study group for people who wanted to know more about the visitors from other worlds. Martha said that they had already made contact and there were warning signs of some great disaster ahead. She invited us along. Larry was very polite but I caught this kind of mocking half-smile on his lips.

  It was like he always thought that he knew more about these things than anybody else. But he was curious enough to come with me when I went to the next Watchers meeting. It was here that Martha first explained the different beings located in ‘the astral’. She said that there were good and bad forces out in space. Knowing that she had the power to make contact with them, she had prayed very diligently that she might not fall into the wrong hands. I understood this at once, especially when she mentioned that Lucifer was actually a star being who, under his guise as the ‘bright one’, was intent on bringing chaos into the astral as well as here on earth. Lucifer is abroad in the world, leading our scientists to build ever greater weapons of destruction. In the past, Martha explained, there had been a great apocalypse when the two great lost civilisations — Atlantis in the West and its sister continent Mu in the Pacific — were destroyed with ancient atomic weapons.

  Martha stated that two kinds of alien have been visiting earth: the ‘Space Brothers’, who seek to help us, are from Sirius and from the constellation of Pleiades; the bad aliens (who I know now are the Greys) are from the fourth planet of the star system Zeta Reticulum. She told us that she had been in contact with the Space Brothers and that they had some important information for us. When I asked her how she communicated with them, she told me that it was done psychically. This made sense to me as I remember clearly, when I saw the flying saucer over the Hollywood Hills, a distinct feeling of an unintelligible message being transmitted directly to my mind. Martha demonstrated that she could decipher these signals with automatic writing. She went into a sort of trance. Then, with a simple pencil and paper, she wrote down what the Space Brothers wanted to tell us. That night their announcement was: ‘We are coming soon to gather up the Chosen Ones. But take heed: those who instruct the people of earth in slaughter will soon meet a dark and awful justice.’

  On the way home Larry didn’t say much. When I asked him what he thought about the Watchers, he said: ‘Well, they’re pretty good material for a story.’ He was working late that night. He often wrote through the hours of darkness and slept during the day. I had this strange dream that the whole city was in a panic about a great catastrophe that would occur any day now. I woke up and went to get a glass of water. The study door was open and I caught sight of Larry at his desk, pecking away at the typewriter. I crept up and stood in the doorway to watch him. He didn’t notice me there and in that moment I felt a grim knowledge creep over me. Larry’s face was blank, an empty mask of strange intent. I realised that what Larry did was automatic writing also. He claimed his work as his own but I knew then that he was being used to send messages just as Martha was. And I feared that it might not be the Space Brothers who had made contact with him. Maybe he was possessed by the star being Lucifer, or the Greys, or even the devil himself.

  I went to the next meeting of the Watchers on my own. It was there that I met Dr Headley, another leading member of the group. He was a retired physician who had served as a medical missionary in Africa. He had studied theosophy and told us that all the world religions revealed sacred evidence of extraterrestrial life forms that had visited earth in ancient times. He led the meeting in a group meditation, imploring us to ‘tune in with each other’s frequencies of spirit’. Afterwards he passed around a letter that he had composed, addressed to President Eisenhower, calling upon him to make public the secret information that the air force had accumulated on flying saucers. We all signed it.

  Then Martha announced that a special message was coming in from the Space Brothers. We all sat around her as she started writing. It took her over half an hour to finish the communication. She then handed it to Dr Headley and he read it out loud. The news was shocking. Los Angeles and the whole of the Western seaboard were going to be destroyed in a great flood and the lost continent of Mu would emerge from the Pacific once more. The Space Brothers were to send spaceships to save the ‘Chosen Ones’. I remembered the dream I had had about the commotion in LA and of a great disaster coming, and it all suddenly made sense. Martha told us that the Space Brothers would give us more information next week. The meeting broke up with everyone feeling shocked and a bit elated.

  When I got home Larry asked me about my evening with the Watchers. At first I didn’t want to tell him about the prophecy. I was worried that he would think it was all nonsense. I also had this feeling that it was dangerous knowledge. I remembered the panic in my dream. But Larry was gently insistent and in the end I told him everything.

  But I was right to be cautious. Soon there were complaints to the community church about the Watchers and it was decided that from then on we would meet at Martha’s house. All the group’s energy now went into preparing for our evacuation from the city in the flying saucers sent by the Space Brothers. At first there was a message that they would come on Christmas Day, but later Dr Headley amended that to 21 December. This was the date of the winter solstice, when the earth’s axis is tilted on its furthest point from the sun, creating the best conditions for spaceships to land. He also added that this was the day on which ‘the Essenes left their house and went looking for a new master and teacher. It was on the twenty-first, you know, not the twenty-fifth, that Jesus was born.’

  This was only two weeks away! I didn’t know what to say to the studio. My shooting schedule had started to get hectic; there were big scenes coming up between Nancy and Adam Henderson. And Larry started to pester me about when we would visit his mother over Christmas. I told him: ‘How could a
ny of this matter now?’ We had a row but after he had calmed down I told him that he could be one of the chosen ones too. You see, I really wanted to save him.

  But he just got more and more angry with me. In the last few days I did everything I could to prepare us both for the coming of the Space Brothers, even though I was very busy recording A Family Practice. Dr Headley had told us to remove any metal from our clothing because he said that, while we were travelling in a flying saucer, contact with metal could produce severe burns. When Larry came home one night to find me cutting the zip fasteners out of all of his trousers, he went crazy. I tried to explain to him but this just made him worse. In the end I decided that I would stay at Martha’s until the solstice.

  We all gathered together on the evening of that day. The final message had been sent through Martha, telling us that the flood would come on the twenty-second, and that we would all be picked up at the hour of midnight on its eve. There was a small crowd outside the house, some of them press reporters as there had been some reports of the Watchers’ prophecy in the newspapers and on the local radio stations. The phone kept ringing and Martha or Dr Headley had to answer all these questions from people about the coming flood.

  Midnight came and nothing happened. We waited in silence for nearly an hour and then Martha stood up and said that another message was coming through. There had been a delay, it read. We must wait for a sign. As the hours passed some of the group got up and questioned Martha and Dr Headley. There were arguments and a few people left the house. Then, at six-thirty in the morning, Martha announced that something wonderful had happened.

  She wrote out a communication from a supreme being called the Creator, of a higher power over the Space Brothers. He told us that the great cataclysm had been averted and earth had been spared by his intervention. The Creator and the Space Brothers thanked the Watchers for holding vigil and keeping faith. More information would follow but in the meantime the Creator and his astral brotherhood were sending a message of peace for all on planet earth. Martha went out to the few reporters that were left outside to give them this as a sort of press release. Everybody else started to get ready to go home. Some people were taking pictures. I didn’t want to be recognised so I put on a headscarf and dark glasses. Dr Headley gave me a ride back to my house.