GENESIS (Projekt Saucer)

by W. A. Harbinson

  Scaduto was shivering. He shook his head and groaned and cursed. His fingers scrabbled at squares of rush matting, the steam still rising off him. Stanford stood there, saying nothing, breathing deeply, fists clenched, feeling cold and removed from himself, but now determined to finish it. Eventually Scaduto moved, pushing himself with his hands, shaking his head and struggling up on his hands and knees, a colt learning to walk. He coughed to clear his throat, took a deep breath, turned sideways, then hauled himself on to the couch and slumped there, looking stunned.

  Stanford walked across the loft. He had left his shoulder bag on a table. He picked the bag up and unzipped it and pulled out a small taperecorder. He set the tape-recorder on the table, letting the bag fall to the floor. Scaduto watched him, his glassy eyes wary, still red and unfocused. Then Stanford went back to him, knelt down in front of him, reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him a little.

  ‘You’re going to talk to me,’ Stanford said. ‘You’re going to tell me all you know. We’re going to stay here all night, you’re going to talk and keep talking, and we’ll go over it again and again until I’ve got what I need. You don’t have to be formal about it. Just lay it on me as it comes. I’m putting it all on tape, I’m going to cross-check and edit, and when I’ve finished it should be in sequence and sound reasonably intelligent. I’m not bullshitting, Scaduto. I want to drain your brain. I want everything, from your first day to your last, and I want no evasions. If you’re a good boy I’ll reward you: I’ll let you shoot up. If you’re a bad boy, I’ll beat the shit out of you and then start again. And don’t try lying, Scaduto. Don’t leave anything out. If you lie, or if you leave anything out, I’ll go straight to the CIA. I’ll show them what you’ve given me. That should be enough to excite them. They’ll be around here so fast, you won’t know your balls from your ass. So don’t mess with me, Scaduto. Talk long and talk well. If you give me what I need, if it’s believable, I’ll never mention my source. I’m turning the tape-recorder on now. I’m going to sit right here beside you. Just relax, put your feet up and talk, and the night will soon pass.’

  Stanford went back to the table, picked the tape-recorder up, bent down and picked up his shoulder bag and then returned to the couch. He sat down beside Scaduto. He reached into the shoulder bag. He withdrew a lot of cassette tapes and set them down on the arm of the couch, where they formed a neat pile. Scaduto stared at all the tapes. He licked his lips and shivered slightly. Stanford picked up the first tape, slipped it into the tape-recorder, turned the machine on and then sat down, looking right at Scaduto.

  ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Talk.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘My phone’s been bugged,’ Epstein said quietly. ‘That’s why we’re out walking.’ It was night time in Washington, DC, and they were strolling through the busy streets of Georgetown, passing discos and restaurants, hopefully anonymous in the crowd. The town looked like a Christmas card in its blanket of snow.

  ‘Bugged?’ Stanford said. ‘You’ve been bugged? Why the hell would they do that?’

  Epstein turned his collar up. He looked older and extremely frail. He coughed a lot and rubbed his eyes constantly, rarely raising his head.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘It must have been done when I was away. I think it has something to do with young Richard Watson.’

  ‘No one knew about that.’

  ‘My passport,’ Epstein said. ‘It makes me nervous. They must have us under surveillance. I think it may have started in the Caribbean.’

  ‘Mr Gerhardt.’

  ‘That’s right. They’re disturbed about how much we witnessed. I’d like to know why.’

  ‘Damned CIA.’

  ‘Yes,’ Epstein said.

  ‘Where we go, people disappear. It’s not a comforting thought.’

  They were in Wisconsin Avenue, passing kids wearing baubles, the outdoor vendors bravely hawking their wares despite the freezing cold. Stanford saw little around him, now buried inside his head, obsessed by the girl in Galveston, by his experience in the Caribbean, by the revelations of Gardner and O’Hara, by Scaduto’s minutely detailed story. Stanford couldn’t leave it now: he was a fish hooked through the throat. No matter what might befall him in the future, he now had to continue.

  ‘You said Scaduto was sensational,’ Epstein said. ‘All right, let me hear it.’

  ‘I need my notes.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You have that famous photographic memory, handed down from your family. All gifted. All with photographic memories. So you don’t need your notes.’

  This was true enough. Stanford still had fond memories of his childhood in San Jose, California, the family breakfasts over the long pine table, his mother and brother and two sisters competing noisily with the facts and figures that the five of them all held in their photographic memories. It was a family inheritance, his mother had informed him. Her own mother and her brothers and sisters had all possessed the same gift. And it was that gift, the gift of instant, accurate recall, that had helped Stanford to be a brilliant researcher. So, no, he didn’t need his notes. He remembered Scaduto’s every word, down to the very last, minute detail.

  ‘I don’t know where to start,’ he said. ‘The whole story’s just incredible – and it’s pretty damned complex.’ He glanced briefly around him, his vision dazzled by the neon lights, hearing the disco music pounding out from crimson-lit, basement doorway. ‘Okay,’ he continued. ‘The basic background to Scaduto is that he was working for the National Investigations Committee on Aerial Phenomena way back in 1957, when it first started up.’

  ‘The NICAP,’ Epstein said. ‘A civilian organization. Not too strong a background at all. The outside looking in.’

  ‘They’re an efficient organization,’ Stanford said, ‘and damned well you know it.’

  Epstein smiled, huddled up against the cold, almost lost in his thick, fur-lined coat, the street lights washing over him.

  ‘So,’ Stanford said. ‘I trust I can now continue… You know, of course, about the Levelland sightings.’

  ‘Naturally,’ Epstein said. ‘The most remarkable sightings on record so far. November 2, 1957. Seven different automobile drivers, all at different locations around Levelland, Texas, suffered at approximately the same time inexplicable automobile disablement and subsequent recovery after coming across large, egg-shaped, glowing metallic objects that were sitting on the roads before ascending vertically and disappearing. The Air Force later caused themselves acute embarrassment by (a) not examining the reported landing sites; and (b) attributing the cause of the sightings to an electrical storm that was not in fact in the area of Levelland at the time.’

  ‘Full marks,’ Stanford said. ‘So, the Levelland sightings formed a sort of grand climax to the biggest UFO flap since 1952. Those sightings did indeed cause the Air Force a lot of embarrassment – and led to the NICAP pushing for congressional hearings. In August, 1958, John McCormack’s House Sub-Committee on Atmospheric Phenomena requested a week-long hearing in closed, secret session, but the NICAP’s pleasure in this was quickly squashed. Any hope that the hearing would be a fair one was destroyed by the evidence of Captain George Gregory, then representing Project Blue Book, who came out with so many half-truths, he made Donald Menzel seem almost Christlike. Given this, as you can imagine, the House Sub-Committee decided to take no further interest in the matter.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So the members of the NICAP were furious. And they were even more furious when, in December of that year, the Air Force published a staff study that came down heavily on the civilian UFO groups, accusing them of being biased and sensationalist. To make matters worse, it was during the same month that the NICAP learned, through one of the more influential members of the NICAP board, that the Robertson Panel, in making their recommendations back in 1953, had, when discussing civilian UFO groups then in existence, used the chilling phrase: “The apparent irresponsibility and the possible use of s
uch groups for subversive purposes should be kept in mind.” And, further, when they discovered that both the FBI and the CIA had been keeping extensive records on people involved in UFO investigations, including quite a few members of the NICAP.’

  Epstein nodded wearily, rubbed his eyes and coughed again, looking away in embarrassment when an elegant prostitute started coming toward him. Skipping around her, Epstein and Stanford kept walking, both aware that the prostitute had turned around and was following them, though keeping her distance, possibly still hopeful of some trade.

  ‘Now,’ Stanford said, ‘stories about the CIA’s involvement in the UFO phenomenon had been circulating for years, but a lot of people put it down to paranoia. However, after Gregory’s performance in front of the Sub-Committee, and after learning about the Robertson Panel recommendations, some of the members of the NICAP, including Scaduto, decided to check out the situation. Then, just after they began their investigations, one of the members of their board came up with a pretty amazing story.’

  The prostitute kept trailing them, swinging her shoulder bag, looking prosperous in her long coat and boots, as Stanford noticed when he glanced back over his shoulder. Seeing her, Stanford thought of the girl in Galveston, experienced a sudden, shocking lust, and then waved his hand from left to right, indicating ‘No.’ Glancing back over his shoulder again, he saw the woman shrugging and turning away, prepared to look for trade elsewhere. A neon light flashed green and red, and the snow drifted lazily along the sidewalk as Epstein stared at his own feet.

  ‘Apparently,’ Stanford continued, ‘just a few weeks earlier – this was 1959 – the Office of Naval Intelligence had heard of a woman in Maine who claimed to be in regular contact with extraterrestrials and brought this fact to the CIA’s attention. Since this seemed like a typical crank contactee case in which the woman, a psychic, had used automatic handwriting for communication with the extraterrestrials, the CIA naturally gave it a miss. However, the Canadian government had also heard about the woman and they sent their leading UFOlogist to interview her. According to the Canadian expert, the woman, during a trance, had correctly answered highly complex questions about space flight. Surprisingly, when the US Navy learned about this, they sent two intelligence officers to investigate. During the subsequent interview, one of the Navy intelligence officers, who had been trained in ESP, tried to tune in to the woman’s contactee; this experiment failed, so he and his associate returned to DC and informed the CIA. This time the CIA showed more interest than before and arranged for the ESP-trained intelligence officer to try making contact in CIA headquarters. Six witnesses – two of them CIA employees and one of them from the Office of Naval Intelligence – get together in the office in Washington to observe the results of the experiment – and this time, when the intelligence officer went into his trance, he reportedly made contact with someone.’

  Stanford glanced at Epstein, trying to gauge his reaction, but his friend was gazing down at the snow-covered ground, looking frail even in his heavy coat.

  ‘At that point,’ Stanford continued, ‘one of the men in the room demanded some kind of proof that they were in contact with extraterrestrials. The intelligence officer, still in his trance, said that if they looked out the window they would see a flying saucer over DC. The other three men went to the window and were amazed to see a UFO in the sky – a description of which has never been released. However, it has been established that at the time of the supposed sighting, the radar center at Washington National Airport reported that its radar returns had been blocked out in the direction of the sighting.’

  Epstein glanced up at the night sky, saw dark clouds drifting lazily, lowered his gaze and stared forlornly at the snow, rubbed his eyes, coughed again.

  ‘So,’ Stanford said. ‘Major Robert J. Friend – who had since replaced Captain Gregory as head of Project Blue Book – was informed of these events by the CIA and asked to sit in on a latter trance session during which, reportedly, nothing unusual took place. Nevertheless, Friend felt that Duke University’s parapsychology lab should investigate both the female psychic and the intelligence officer, which subsequently they did… but their report never materialized, Blue Book released no analysis of the UFO sighting report, the government did nothing about the Washington radar blackout, and what the intelligence officer saw over DC remained a tight secret. Not only that, but the CIA then took, quote, “punitive action” against the men involved, and had them transferred to other positions in other locations.’

  ‘That story is authentic,’ Epstein said. ‘Major Friend wrote about the whole affair in a Memorandum for the Record – a memorandum that can now be found in the Air Force Archives at Maxwell AFB, Montgomery, Alabama.’

  ‘Right,’ Stanford said. ‘And that’s exactly what got Scaduto going… First, Scaduto wondered at the unusual amount of official interest shown in a civilian female with supposed telepathic abilities. Scaduto was aware that the Russian KGB and the CIA had both been investigating the espionage potential of telepathy, psychic photography and other forms of parapsychology, and he therefore wondered if there could be any connection between that fact and the female psychic from Maine. Since communication by telepathy had already been achieved with moderate success both in Russian and American laboratories, and between submarines and land bases, it was possible that the CIA was genuinely concerned with the woman’s knowledge of the more complex aspects of space flight. It also stands to reason, since they themselves were interested in the espionage potential of telepathy, that they would have certain men trained in ESP – thus, they’d sent one of their men to attend the trance sessions.’

  ‘I don’t see what this is leading,’ Epstein said.

  ‘Patience,’ Stanford said. ‘The first thing Scaduto had to accept was that telepathic communication had been made with someone in that CIA office in Washington, DC, and that the man in a trance, if not actually making it materialize, had been informed that there was a UFO in the sky. If he then kept in mind the fact that certain secret military laboratories had succeeded in training people in telepathic communication – which had been done in primitive fashion years before

  – it then seemed more believable that the woman from Maine had actually been in contact with some telepathically trained government employee.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Epstein said, looking a lot more interested. ‘Are you suggesting that the UFO over Washington, DC, was a government aircraft?’

  ‘Yes,’ Stanford said. ‘And for Scaduto, this possibility became even more intriguing when he thought of the US Navy Intelligence’s interest in the matter; and, even more intriguing, when one of the members of the NICAP’s board of directors, reminded him that the Canadian government and the US Air Force had both acknowledged their involvement in supposedly unsuccessful flying saucer construction projects.’

  Epstein stopped walking, glanced up at the night sky, then looked all around him, at the snow on the ground, at the discos and restaurants and bars, his eyes bright with excitement.

  ‘I’m hungry’ Stanford said. ‘Let’s get something to eat. Also, I’m not keen on all this working and I’d like to sit down.’

  They went into Clyde’s, instantly savouring the warmth and the saloon atmosphere; once seated, they gave the waitress their orders and didn’t speak again until she left. Stanford studied Epstain’s face: he looked alive, but more alive. Stanford thought of them both, of Epstein’s fate and his own obsessions, and he had to control the cold rage that now drove him relentlessly. His old friend was soon to die. The pains of cancer now assailed him. Stanford wanted to give him something – all the answers – before death cut him down.

  ‘Okay,’ Stanford said. ‘Bear in mind that at least some kind of flying saucer prototypes had actually been built by the US and Canada: first, the US Navy’s Flying Flounder and the Air Force’s Flying Flapjack – projects reportedly worked on between 1942 and 1947 – then the mysterious flying saucer that the Canadian government claimed they had ab
orted and passed over to the US in 1954. Now, the most interesting thing about those projects was that, one, the US Navy claimed to have dropped their project back in 1947, but were known to be still involved in super-secret aeronautical projects scattered around the White Sands Proving Ground; and, two, the Canadian government, while admitting that the enormous UFO seen over Albuquerque in 1951 was similar to the one they had tried to build, then claimed that they had passed their project on to the US because they couldn’t afford to continue it.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is that the UFO over Albuquerque might have been a US product based on the 1947 Canadian designs.’

  ‘Correct… And that everyone who admitted that they’d once tried building flying saucers, were now denying that they’d succeeded. Which could well be a lie.’

  ‘I see,’ Epstein said.

  ‘Now remember,’ Stanford continued, ‘that Scaduto had started to investigate these mysteries in the Year of our Lord, 1959. One of the things he remembered was that the first major UFO sightings – the Kenneth Arnold sightings of June 24, 1947 – had taken place near Mount Rainier in the Cascades in the state of Washington – which divides Canada from Oregon – and that Arnold had stated that the nine UFOs had flown off in the direction of the Canadian border. What is not so widely known is that on the very same day another man, Fred Johnson, prospecting about four thousand feet above the Cascades, reported seeing six similar objects, and that three days before, on June 21, Harold Dahl, on harbor patrol in Puget Sound – which runs from the Canadian border to Tacoma – was following the coastline of Maury Island when he reportedly saw five UFOs maneuvering about fifteen hundred feet above the coast before disappearing toward the open sea. Throughout that whole month – even ignoring the crank reports encouraged by the initial sightings – there was a disturbing number of sightings over the northwest corner of the United States; and by the first week in July there were reports of, quote, “strange, luminous bodies” in the skies over the Province of Quebec, Oregon, and New England. The following week those sightings spread to California and New Mexico, and by the end of that year – the same year that the US Navy had, apparently, dropped their flying saucer project – flying saucers were being reported from all over the world.’