Atmosphere

Home > Other > Atmosphere > Page 18
Atmosphere Page 18

by Michael Laimo


  "I really gotta get me one of these things," Frank said, sipping his coffee, watching the computer screen as the results of Hector's searches on the internet came up.

  "Nothing of interest here," Hector said, commenting on his most recent query results. In the forty-five minutes since they’d begun surfing the web for information, they’d come up with very little in the way that could help them any further with the investigation. Frank, being quite inexperienced with computers beyond the data entry and retrieval systems at the 12th precinct, hadn't realized the extent to which the World Wide Web could be utilized. "It's complete chaos," Hector had explained. "Free speech run amok. If you need info, here's the place to go. My guess is that someone somewhere out there has all the info we need, and is willing to share it with the world. All we have to do is find it."

  Their searches were varied:

  A query of Bald, Sunglasses, Kidnapping brought hundreds of meaningless sites pertaining to fashion, hair care, music, club scenes, and beach attire. Hidden amid the fray however were a number of Los Angeles police beat reports revealing a bit of information on the facts they already had: the disappearances of a number of teenage boys from the local area, and profiles of the witnesses' accounts.

  Another search they made consisted of Kidnapping, Bald, Sunglasses, and at Frank's request, Techno. This spewed out a number of music sights delving into the city club scenes and the appropriate styles one could adorn themselves with should they decide to partake in the lifestyle. A few additional police reports came up, but did not offer any further information.

  "Try this, Hect." Hector cleared the search engine's query space and readied himself to type. "Bald, sunglasses, techno, and atmosphere."

  Hector nodded and typed. "Now how come we didn't try that first?"

  "Were both pretty tired, that's why."

  Hector hit the 'search' button and the computer's hard drive growled.

  The screen displayed the following:

  Query results: six hits.

  1) North Pole's Hole In The Sky Caused By Alien Invasion.

  http://www.Sanskrit.com/hole in sky

  2) Alien Invasion

  http://www.Sanskrit.com/alieninvasion

  3) This Is Not Fiction! We Have Been Visited!

  http://www.Sanskrit.com/nonfiction

  4) Alien Abduction: My Return From The Mother Ship

  http://www.Sanskrit.com/abduction

  5) Alien Methodology Revealed: Binaural Beats Utilized To Manipulate Brainwave Patterns.

  http://www.Sanskrit.com/alienmethodology

  6) Beware The Men In Black: This Is No Joke!

  http://www.Sanskrit.com/meninblack

  An uncomfortable silence ran between them. Frank could hear Hector's increased breathing along with his own pounding heart as they read the titles of the webpages. Finally, Hector broke the silence. "All these pages have the same domain address, which means they've been authored by the same person or persons."

  "So somebody else knows something about what's going on, even more than we do perhaps."

  "Aliens? Don't get your hopes up, Jetson. It looks like the author has a highly active imagination. At first glance that is. And besides, the keywords we searched for could very well be used in an entirely different context than what we're looking for."

  Frank inched up his chair. "Let's check it out."

  Hector clicked on the first title, North Pole's Hole In The Sky Caused By Alien Invasion.

  An article came up, topped with a detailed sketch of the earth looking down on the North Pole. A series of arrows pointed out the location of lower and higher ozone levels in the atmosphere. Below a subtitle read: Scientists covering up true cause of ozone hole.

  Hector read the article aloud:

  The sky above the North Pole has developed an "ozone hole" in the atmosphere that is allowing extra amounts of cancer-causing ultraviolet rays to fall on the United States. The hole, which has been seen in the past two years, develops for brief periods early in the Spring when sunlight suddenly hits the clouds of ice particles in the atmosphere, liberating chlorine-based chemicals. These chemicals eat up ozone, which is important to life on Earth because it screens out much of the sun's harmful ultraviolet light.

  Until now, the northern hemisphere hasn't been as vulnerable to ozone loss as the southern hemisphere, apparently because of differences in air temperatures and circulation. But in the past two years, air in the north has grown especially cold, and the ozone has thinned dramatically over most of North America.

  Reports show that scientists have 'struggled' in an effort to find a cause to the mysterious 'hole' that appeared two years ago, and a reasonfor the buildup of chlorine in the atmosphere, which has exacerbated the loss of ozone. Falsified satellite measurements show an increase of nitrogen compounds in the lower atmosphere that have consequently fluctuated ozone concentrations. Due to the public's general disinterest in such ecological data, scientists have successfully deceived the curious, easily dissuading them to assume the simple explanation as valid.

  Of course, their explanations are utter falsehoods.

  In or about the month of December, 1996, a spacecraft of alien origins entered our atmosphere at the North Pole. Although visible to the naked eye, the craft remained hidden to military personnel, exercising a nameless technology cloaking it from radar and satellite scans. The alien embodiment within anchored the craft deep within the arctic snow, spending a year or more there, scanning the Earth for particulars it could utilize for its own knowledge and subsistence, all the while manipulating the ozone layer above its position in effort to simulate the chlorine-rich atmosphere found on their homeworld, wherever that may be.

  It seemed that in time the alien body was unable to utilize the Earth's carbon-rich atmosphere to meet their immediate needs for survival, and in turn opted for a different, more extreme course of action, one which serves some sort of acquisitive purpose. Although assumptions have been made, the true reason to their horrifically harsh methodology has yet to be determined. (The entire process will be examined more closely in a subsequent essay).

  The powers that be, our almighty Government, have proficiently accomplished a covering-up of this potentially ruinous crisis, and have easily coerced the scientific community to create a 'whitewash' of the alarming facts at hand.

  If there is a God, let him help us should our Government fail in their measures to rid the planet of the alien virus.

  Ruefully yours,

  [email protected]

  "Quite a tale." The weakness in Hector's voice was most likely a result of fatigue, but it really sounded as if he were trying hard to shrug off the short essay as a crude piece of fiction.

  Frank stared at the words on the screen, his gaze unmoving until the text blurred into a wash of black and white. "I find this interesting," he said pointing to the words on the screen. "It talks of 'harsh methods' and 'government coverups'. Haven't we seen a little of both today? Think about it. The kids in the alley, the weird object one of them held. That could pass as a harsh method, whatever it may be. And then the FBI's efforts to keep the kidnappings under wraps? The person that wrote this knows something, Hect."

  Hector grinned. "I don't know...I think what you've got here is another one of those Heaven's Gate-type kooks who's convinced that space aliens are waiting in the wings for them jump aboard their spaceship to salvation."

  Frank nodded. "Most likely. But this guy seems too smart. He ain't talking space gibberish. There's a lot of science here. It might not be aliens, but there's definitely something out of the ordinary going on, something big enough for the government not to want the public to know about."

  "So you believe this stuff about the ozone layer and the hole in the sky?"

  "Absolutely. Not necessarily the thing about the spaceship, but I do believe it's been caused by something the big boys don't want us to know about."

  "So then what does it have to do with our mystery?"

  "We'll find out no
w. Go back to the page with the lists of essays."

  Hector ran the cursor over the 'back' button on the web browser and brought up the previous page.

  "Look at the last one."

  Hector scrolled down: Beware The Men In Black: This Is No Joke!

  "If his men in black are bald and wear shades, we're balls deep in alien ka-ka." Frank laughed aloud at his own humor, but couldn't help be spooked at the memory of the homeless man in the lobby of Harold Gross' apartment building.

  You come for the man in black?

  Hector clicked on the domain address. The computer's hard drive made a series of grinding noises, and then the web page came up.

  A crude sketch of a bald man wearing sunglasses stared back at them.

  Silence filled the room as the two cops read the caption beneath the picture:

  This is a picture of a man in black. This is a picture of me, Sanskrit.

  They continued to read:

  If this man looks familiar, then you have perhaps seen one of the men in black. No, this isn't a secret government agent trying to whitewash alien existence from the public, like in the movies. Nor is it an alien itself. It is a simple human male, like myself, who has been taken hostage by the alien body through a simple yet powerful technique that cleverly utilizes binaural beats to gain control of the human mind (more on binaural beats in linked page #5).

  During their two-year presence here on the planet Earth, the alien body has continuously emitted an extremely powerful alpha wave pulse that, although inaudible to the human ear, is clearly heard through radio transmissions. Once the pulse connects with the correct type of mind (I have discovered that very few individuals have been affected by the pulse; those who have are physically strong males with similar interests and backgrounds that include a difficult childhood leading into an adult life most notably guided by a semi-aggressive, egotistical demeanor, a personality that has made it difficult for them to function with sound acceptance in society), the individual becomes entranced and falls into a state of Delta, an extreme form of unbreakable hypnosis (under almost all circumstances I would assume, mine being a unique case as far as I can tell) and becomes an all-answering slave forced to carry out the shocking demands of the alien body.

  To what purpose these demands incur I have not the slightest notion, but it is a horrifying act that is necessitated, one that while under alien possession seems ecstatic, even orgasmic to those in influence. From what I can gather, the alien body's embrace somehow triggers the pleasure center in the brain, forcing the captive to realize his actions as an act of pure, sexually animalistic promiscuity.

  Which leads me to the real victims of their reign: the boys. The men in black are simply gophers (somehow the word harbinger comes to mind) for the alien body, seeking out the perfect subject for their puzzling needs.

  The perfect subject retains personality traits even more so specific than those of the men in black: they are male, between the ages of fourteen and twenty, with, and this may sound strange, but it is explained as best as possible in linked page #5, a passionate taste for techno and ambient music. That is it as far as I can gather, no additional commonalities exist. The sole purpose of the man in black is to seek out the aforementioned. The purpose of the boys is still unknown, but it is apparent that it fills a crucial need of the alien body, always, most unfortunately as I realize it now, resulting in violent death for the chosen subject.

  Be wary of the men in black. Easily spotted, their hypnotic state compels them to act aberrantly: the skin and eyes become extremely photosensitive, hence sunglasses for the eyes; black clothing is worn, shrouding the body sans the scalp from the sun's ultraviolet rays (ironic it is then that the alien body themselves are solely responsible for the most recent dramatic increase of radioactive ultraviolet rays in our atmosphere; it is my assumption that this error in fact thwarted their efforts to modify the atmosphere for their own accessibility), the chosen color of black preferred to absorb heat from the sun. This conduct patterns that of the alien body, whose habitat I assume to be quite dark and hot, with the atmosphere rich in chlorine.

  It is with great regret that I cannot expound any further as to the intricacies of the alien embodiment and the systematic relationship between the men in black and the young abductees, as memories of my own abduction are somewhat vague, seemingly masked by some sort of post-hypnotic suggestion. However, upon recalling their ability to apply binaural beats to control the human mind, I have analyzed the subject in great detail, and describe them in linked page #5.

  Ruefully yours,

  [email protected]

  "You done reading?" Frank asked Hector.

  "I am now." Hector leaned back in his seat, staring at the screen, squeezing his cheeks with one hand.

  "What do you think?"

  "Well, there are two questions at hand that immediately come to mind. First: is there a problem? You bet. And we're right in the middle of it. Second: do I believe this shit? Of course not. It's Heaven's Gate material, right out of the cult handbook. What you've got is a clan, some underground cult of wackos spreading their word, blaming aliens from outer space for their extremist activities. They no doubt have a leader, this Sanskrit perhaps, not unlike Heaven's Gate's Applewhite, who's got a bunch of hopeless soul-seeking degenerates—the Harold Grosses of the world—shaving their heads and wearing weirdo outfits, following him around like lost puppies and snatching up teenage boys for God knows what perversities their quote-unquote religion calls for."

  "But from what we can tell, they're actually killing the boys, not recruiting them."

  "We've only got two dead for sure, as far as we know right now. The rest are missing. Regardless, it doesn't matter. Sure and simple, it's definitely a cult. And they're running around carrying out their sick rituals at will."

  Frank allowed his three personalities to weigh Hector's assumption as a possibility. In the forefront of their views, they all seemed to agree, that he was right and that no logical alternative existed other than to go along with his immediate speculation: that all this time they've been unearthing the doings of some nationwide extremist cult. "It's really frightening."

  "Very much so. Usually, under most circumstances, extremist clans are dangerous only to themselves. But here? This seems to be a unique situation, Charles Manson meets Marshall Applewhite, to the tenth degree."

  Frank's detective mind wandered away from the logical postulation, at once spotting a few details that didn't make sense. "You know, I was just thinking... Bobby Lindsay had actually revealed to us that he was involved with a religious group. It was his excuse for the shaven head—"

  "There you go."

  "—but then how come we never found any evidence outside of his confession and his appearance that there had been any involvement?"

  "You also never found the hole in his bedroom floor."

  Frank nodded within the silence. "Which I guess leads me to my next question. That hole, tunnel, whatever they said was there in his room. It wasn't there, Hect. We turned the entire house upside down. And then there's the tunnel that Harold Gross slipped away in, in the courtyard."

  "That was a cesspool duct, he plucked the manhole cover off it."

  "But there was a tunnel leading away from it down below, you said yourself that it had been dug out somehow. And then—and don't keep denying this—but...that object the kid was holding in the alley. I still think it has some significance."

  Hector sipped his coffee. "A religious icon."

  Frank thought about that. In some countries, people kill others over their beliefs. So it seemed to make some sense that Gross, in a state of religious frenzy, would have risked his life over retrieving the odd statuette. "I agree that everything we've discovered today could easily fall into a case involving an extremist cult—except, of course, the presence of the tunnels. Until these could be explained, I have to keep an alternate explanation under consideration."

  Hector grinned incredulously. "What, like aliens burrow
ed out the tunnel?"

  Hector didn't understand Frank's train of thought, that he had three personalities doing battle at all times inside his head, that he possessed varying viewpoints on almost every subject placed in front of him. Did he really believe in the far-fetched alien theory? Not really. Most evidence did indeed point to the existence of a cult. His weak yet rational personality believed in the cult, so did his strong, truth-seeking detective—for the most part. But deep within his irrational-impulsive personality—the one that usually got him into trouble, the one that wanted to shoot the rat in the gutter—some doubts existed with respect to the obvious answers that lay on the surface. It felt that somewhere deep down beyond the obvious, the real truth to the situation sat cloaked. And since Frank remained faithful to all his personalities, he needed to accept this alternate as a possibility, however debatable it seemed, until he could convince himself with sound explanations to all possible questions.

  "Frank?"

  Frank shook away his thoughts. "Yes...I'm here."

  "It's almost two, we ought to retire. There's much we have to do tomorrow."

  "Wait. I want to see the rest of the web pages, at least the one on the binaural beats."

  "Okay, but this is it. I'm asleep at the wheel. Hector rolled the mouse, aiming the cursor over linked page #5: Alien Methodology Revealed: Binaural Beats Utilized To Manipulate Brainwave Patterns.

  BINAURAL BEATS THE RHYTHM OF SOUND AND ENTRAINMENT:

  Rhythm is the nature of the universe. Everything moves to its own beat. From the micro-orbits of electrons and protons to the macro-orbits of planets, stars and galaxies. In lifeforms rhythm is even more obvious, from the continuous beating of the heart, to the cycles of the breath. The cadence of human beings is intricately woven into the web of cosmic pulsation.

  Soundwaves are measured in cycles per second (hertz or Hz). Each cycle of a wave is in reality a single pulse of sound. The average range of hearing for the human ear is somewhere between 16,000 Hz. and 20,000 Hz. We cannot hear extremely low frequencies (ELFs), but we can perceive them as rhythmic, and the alien body has cleverly utilized this function to their advantage.

 

‹ Prev