by Dean M. Cole
"These hangars look like they've been here since the—" Vic stopped as a black Hummer zipped from behind the building.
"Well, I'll be a son of a…" Jake said, through a startled chuckle.
The vehicle slid to a stop in front of them. "Are you ladies just gonna stand there all slack-jawed?" Captain Richard Allison asked.
"I was wondering when your lame ass would show up," Jake said.
"Go to Hell," Richard said through a grin.
Wiping more sweat from his brow, Jake glanced at the sun hovering over the western mountains. "I think we're already there."
Richard gestured to the sweat stains adorning his own flightsuit. "I hear you, brother."
"It's good to see you," Vic said as he and Jake climbed into the Hummer. "We've seen nothing but admin types all week."
"Well, it's time for that to change. I'm here to show you the meat and potatoes of the operation." While speaking, he pulled onto the flight line and headed toward the runway complex.
Jake studied the maze of tarmac, taxiways, and concrete runways. "I know more about the layout of this place from what I saw on Google Earth than I learned from all the briefings we suffered through." He pointed ahead. "For instance, from what I saw in their imagery, I know those are some of the longest runways in the world, a few extending well into Groom Lake's dry bed to the north."
As Richard pulled onto a ramp linked to one of the main runways, Victor pointed at a jet-blast shield in front of a low flat hill. "There's a familiar structure."
"Yep," Jake agreed. "There's been at least one at every Air Force Base I've been to." Positioned behind an area designated as a jet ground-run area, the blast-shield worked like giant louvers. The curved overlapping slats diverted a jet's exhaust away from the ground.
"Not like this one," Richard said turning south, toward the structure.
Jake studied the metal panels. Airport planners usually positioned them in front of buildings or roads. However, this shield was cut into the side of rising terrain.
As they approached, the shield began to lift and fold horizontally, revealing a large hangar hidden in the mound.
"That's not a natural hill," Jake said. "It looks like the hangar was built and then covered in earth."
"Bet you didn't see that on Google Earth," Richard said through a smile. As he pulled the Hummer through the opening, the blast-shield-clad hangar doors lowered.
Within, Jake discovered it lacked a few of the necessary fixtures to qualify it as a hangar. No hoists, offices, or ancillary equipment adorned its well-lit interior. They were in a huge metal box, big as a hangar, just not equipped as such.
Just as Jake and Vic opened their mouths to comment, a deep clunking noise sprang from the box's metallic walls. A tremor shook the Hummer.
After a few moments, Jake sensed vertical motion. "We're descending?"
Richard nodded. "The upper levels we're passing through are used for projects too sensitive to use the above-ground hangars. The lower we go, the more sensitive the project."
"Guess we're heading to the bottom," Jake said.
"As far as I know, but as far as the crews in the floors above us know, they are the lowest and most secret project here." Pointing to the wall ahead, Richard continued. "Each level has its own blast and soundproof door separating it from the lift. In addition to their normal functions, they prevent prying eyes from seeing or hearing more than they should."
"Need-to-know and all that," Vic said.
"Compartmentalization," Jake said. "Gotta love it. Sometimes I wonder if any one person knows everything that happens here."
Richard nodded. "With all the military branches, plus the CIA, NSA, and who knows how many other 'A's…" He shrugged, letting the Area Fifty-One salute finish his sentence.
"As you already know, your I.D. badge contains a tiny radio frequency or RF chip that allows access to your authorized facilities. The lift works the same way. Approach and it opens. Enter and it takes you to your assigned level."
As Richard finished, the lift came to a gentle stop.
Another clunk echoed through the box as the door ahead lifted open.
In the topless Hummer, Richard grabbed the upper frame of the windshield and pulled himself out of his seat. Sitting on the driver's seat back, he spread his arms wide over the windshield with an exaggerated flourish. "Gentleman, I present Earth's most advanced fleet."
CHAPTER NINE
Hurtling past damp rough black stone, Lord Thrakst stomped down the hallway. Bursting onto the bridge, he glowered at the busy officers as they monitored Commodore Salyth's fleet preparations for the coming Light-Jump. Growling, Thrakst pointed at the communications officer. "Remind the young Commodore to have his ships disable their drive suppressors," his deep voice thundered, more felt than heard.
"Yes, Lord," replied the officer, forwarding the order. "Commodore Salyth confirms drive-level set to five and drive suppressors off, my Lord."
"Excellent, I wouldn't want him to get there too early. And, if they're too quiet, the Argonians might miss the party."
Through the bridge's view-wall, he watched Commodore Salyth's attack party move into formation for the Light-Jump to Sector Sixty-Four. Like his command ship, the dreadnoughts were a combination of natural and artificial structures. Engineered asteroids cobbled together by massive superstructures, their menacing appearance brought terror to all those unfortunate enough to cross them.
Except for the sculpted bridge section, the asteroids maintained their natural rough, cratered rocky exterior while the zoxa-formed interior was engineered to provide a Zoxyth atmosphere and climate. The zoxa-forming also fashioned bays for systems, weapons, and personnel. The ship's rocky jutting angles formed jagged silhouettes interspersed with smooth glistening metal of the connecting superstructures.
Thrakst scanned the nearest ship, Commodore Salyth's newly renamed command ship, the Forebearer's Revenge. Glowing green portals interrupted the patchwork of rock and alloy. Shadows moved across ports, as warriors within hastened about, performing their assigned pre-jump tasks.
At the allotted time, Salyth's ships appeared to wink out of existence as his fleet slipped into parallel-space.
Thrakst's talons anxiously scratched at the floor. Drool dripped from his gleaming gnarled teeth as he salivated at the thought of feasting upon his soon to be defeated enemies. "Happy hunting, Commodore."
CHAPTER TEN
Studying the object of her concern, Sandy ran a hand across her flat stomach. From its perch on a bed of perfectly folded toilet paper, the pregnancy test stick sat like a religious offering waiting for an Indiana Jones wannabe to scoop it up. After another glance at her washboard abs, she dissolved into a fit of laughter. The comic-book mental image of her round pregnant body rolling down the cavern, chasing the idol-snatcher from her own temple of doom, was more than Sandy's hormonally charged emotions could contain.
Just as quickly as it started, the laughter morphed into silent tears. "Shit!" Sitting on the closed toilet, she continued through her full library of choice curse words. Muffled by the hands cradling her face, her diatribe sounded like Charlie Brown's schoolteacher in the midst of a Turrets-Syndrome-fueled meltdown.
Her profanity reserves tapped, she sat in silence. Placing tear-soaked hands in her lap, Sandy stared at the ceiling. She took a deep calming breath. Letting it out in a long exhalation, she looked at her phone on the vanity top. Picking it up, Sandy turned it on. Jake's goofy grin stared back from the phone's screen. She nodded her head toward the pee stick. "What are you going to think about this little tidbit of news, mister?"
After a moment, she pressed the send button. Without ringing, the call went direct to voicemail. "Hi, this is Jake. I'm either flying or doing something really important. So, you know what to do." After the phone beeped, Sandy said, "Hey, babe, it's me. Give me a call when you get in. I miss you, mister Mysterious."
Ending the call she stared into his eyes. "What are you guys up to?"
&
nbsp; In the two weeks since he'd returned from D.C. Jake had been very tight-lipped about what happened. His whole attitude had changed overnight. He'd left dejected and confused and returned happy and confident.
The return of Victor was incredible news. Outside of the major that had interrogated him, Sandy was the only person Jake told about the loss of his wingman. So, she was the only one wondering what had happened to Vic that night. All Jake would say was that they'd stumbled into a highly classified program. A wall of secrecy had slammed down over the whole situation.
Also, the two disappeared each day. When she tried to call either of their phones it went straight to voicemail.
Sandy looked at her watch. It was six o'clock in the evening. Where the hell are you, Jake?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
From the Hummer's front passenger seat in the giant elevator, Jake watched the slow rise of the secret hangar's folding steel blast doors. As the horizontal field of view expanded vertically two recognizable sets of landing gear came into sight.
"Are those the shielded F-22s?"
Richard nodded.
The door continued to rise, revealing the sleek stealthy black fighters resting on the gear. The hangar beyond bustled with activity as personnel of various specialties scurried about. While Jake wasn't surprised by the two F-22 Raptors parked diagonally along the left wall, he was shocked to see the UFO he and Vic had encountered parked beyond the fighters, in the hangar's back left corner.
"What the hell?" he said, turning to look at Vic and Richard.
Vic's shocked face mirrored Jake's thoughts.
Grinning, Richard said, "No, it's not the one you two encountered. However, minus weapon systems, it's the same."
Dropping back into the driver's seat, Richard edged the Hummer into the hangar. Easing past the Raptors, he headed straight for the alien ship.
Peeling his eyes from the spaceship to look at the F-22s, Jake noticed a couple of unfamiliar antennas. Four oval depressions with short metal rods protruding from their centers adorned each fighter. Two left and two right, they looked like side-facing oblong aerodynamic satellite dishes.
Jake pointed at the devices. "Do those shield the fighters from the ship's gravity drive?"
Richard nodded. "They project a negative waveform that cancels out the gravity wave."
Jake considered the concept. "Like noise-canceling headphones dampen sound waves?"
"Exactly," he said. "Within the area where the two fields interface, the two sine waves, one hundred eighty degrees out of phase, nullify each other."
Nodding, Jake turned back to the strange ship as Richard pulled to a stop in front of it.
Stepping from the vehicle in reverent silence, they moved to stand side-by-side facing the ship. Its dark metallic curved surface was perfectly smooth. The skin had no angles or edges. It looked as if it had flowed into its present shape.
"It's like looking at a dark mirror made from black mercury," Vic said.
"Yeah," Jake said. "I can see the hummer's reflection, but barely." Bending at the waist, he squinted at the image. "The headlights look black. It's like the skin is absorbing the light."
"The way it absorbs the brighter light more than the dimmer makes it look like a photo negative," Vic said.
Richard nodded again. "The skin actively absorbs incoming energy, making it virtually undetectable in all but the visible spectrum."
"So, that's why I couldn't see it on my infrared scope," Jake said.
"And, why our threat radar never went off," Victor said. "But, it looks cool."
"Yes it does. I've worked with it for six months now, and I'm still fascinated every time I see it," Richard said.
Jake stood, silently taking it in. The ship was much taller than the fighters, and a little wider than they were long. Disc-shaped, it looked tall enough for at least two internal levels. The flattened conical top flowed seamlessly into the ship's vertical side about five feet above a central horizontal bulge. The semi-circular protuberance was about three feet wide.
Richard stepped up to a pedestal mounted to the floor between them and the ship. After entering a couple of commands into the computer mounted on its top, he returned to their side.
Jake felt, more than heard, a deep hum emanate from the ship as a horizontal multicolored pulsing ring of energy emerged from and began to rotate above the ship's equatorial bulge.
"That's the lights we saw," Vic said in an awed tone.
"The ship generates a rotating energy field the Argonians manipulate to maneuver the ship. The only energy we've been able to detect with our sensors, is in the visible light spectrum, in other words, just what we're looking at."
"Visible light only, no other radiation?" Jake asked.
"Well, none we can detect."
"Are you sure we're safe this close to it?" Victor asked with a nervous step back.
"Yes, the Argonian's promise it's completely safe."
Jake nodded, entranced by the ethereal lights floating only two feet overhead. "How does it work?"
"Basically, that central bulge contains a spinning magnetic ring with an oscillating quantum field. The column Victor saw in the ship's center is a powerful superconducting coil. The strength of the coil's field, coupled with the ring's incredibly high RPM creates a powerful and tunable anti-gravity force."
"How does a ring spinning in one plane create a bubble that surrounds a three-dimensional ship?" Jake asked.
"Varying the quantum oscillation transmutes the ring's polarity, changing the angle it cuts through the coil's horizontal field. RPM variations modulate its vertical component."
"Okay … that was all Greek to me," Victor said.
Jake tried to visualize how a ring rotating on a horizontal plane could have an effect in the vertical plane. In a flash of insight he said, "So, oscillating the quantum field adds a vertical component to the horizontally spinning ring's field."
Nodding, Richard added, "It creates a second, virtual ring that is omni-axial and omni-rotational."
"Huh?" Victor asked with a bewildered look.
Jake looked at him and turned back to Richard with mock exasperation. "Lieutenants!"
"Can't take 'em anywhere."
"Hey, I was a psych major, not physics like you two."
"Just kidding, buddy," Jake said. "To put it in layman's terms, if you had a pair of goggles that could see the force Richard is describing, you would see a cocoon of rings spinning around this ship."
"They'd be spinning and tumbling in every direction," Richard added.
Nodding, starting to catch on, he asked, "Where does the light come from?"
"I was going to ask that too, but the forces you're describing sound familiar. I read an article about a theory that works something like this," Jake said pointing at the ring of light. "If I'm right, those are called gravitophotons."
"I thought you might pick up on that," Richard said, shaking his head with an impressed grin.
"Gravit-a-what-ons?"
"Gravitophotons," Jake said. "The article I read was about some new work a group of theoretical physicists are doing with an old theory."
"Old?"
"Yep, as in nineteen fifties and sixties. It's called Heim Quantum Theory."
"You mean somebody on Earth figured this stuff out fifty years ago?" Vic asked. "Why haven't I heard about it?"
"The theory was created by an obscure self-taught German physicist named Burkhard Heim. This guy was a true genius. In an effort to get around the limitations of chemical rockets, he came up with a modified quantum theory. His equations could predict both the position and energy state of a quantum particle, a feat no one can duplicate, even today."
"It's something quantum physics tells us can't be done," Richard added.
"He claimed it successfully bridged the gap between quantum physics and Einstein's general relativity."
"Okay, so again, why doesn't the whole world know this guy's name?"
"Most physicists of the day dismis
sed him. His work, all in German, was very arcane. However, some of the Germans working on America's rocket program knew of him and greatly respected his work. It is rumored that Werner Von Braun even approached him in the early nineteen sixties asking if they should shelve their work on chemical rockets."
"Wait, how does a unifying theory nullify the need for chemical rockets?"
"His theory postulated that if you spin a large, extremely powerful magnet through a hugely powerful electric field you will generate gravity waves." Turning to Richard with a meaningful look he added, "He also postulated those waves would manifest a new, previously unknown particle: Gravitophotons."
Pointing both hands toward the ring of lights, Richard said, "Ta-da."
"If the ship is 'cocooned' in these rings, why don't we see lights all over the ship?"
Jake started to open his mouth. Reconsidering, he turned to Richard. "That's a good question."
"They're only generated where the virtual rings cross the physical ring."
Jake nodded. "The oscillating quantum field causes the color variances while its spin imparts the rotational aspect."
"Exactly," Richard said, obviously excited by the subject. "The antigravity field has another beneficial effect."
"What's that?"
"It decouples ninety-nine point nine percent the mass of everything within the field's influence from the space surrounding it, enabling the instantaneous course changes you saw, without crushing its occupants."
Jake shook his head. "How could it do that?"
"It decouples the ship from the Higgs Field."
"The God Particle?" Victor asked.
The final piece fell into place for Jake. "So, the anti-gravity wave creates a quantum bubble that shields everything in it from the Higgs Field."
"Almost all of it. They had to leave that tiny fraction of a percent. Otherwise, it would turn photonic and move at the speed of light until the universe ended. Anyway, because it disconnects the vast majority of your mass from the outside world, it's the perfect inertial dampener."