“Let’s stick with weather anomalies,” suggested Smith. “We’ve reviewed Ivan T. Sanderson’s work more than once, thinking his Vile Vortices might explain why there are so many accounts of disappearances at 12 identified locations.”
“No matter what some scientists proclaim, Sanderson’s work is not outdated. In fact, his planetary grid research goes back to Plato’s geometric patterns, which suggest how earth’s energies are organized. Maybe that’s where we begin again.”
“You do have some ideas, don’t you?” Smith smiled. “I think you and I might be close to working on the same page, Charlie.”
Chase nodded, “Maybe so. Think simpler. Sometimes less works better than more.”
“That is certainly a place to begin,” smiled Smith who was trying to sound ingratiating.
For the first time in a long time, Walking Einstein was convinced someone was genuinely interested in his work. It was work not entirely off the scientific grid, but still far enough away from prevailing theories that most of his former colleagues would brand him as too much of a risk-taker. And now, standing next to him was a man who just came out of the night, a man whose intentions were not entirely known to Chase, but a man who was not only willing to listen, but anxious to put Charlie Chase at the head of the line—at least for the moment.
Chapter 25
“X–rays . . . triangulation . . . the Piezoelectric Effect,” said Charlie as he walked across the room to a table strewn with papers and books. Picking up a book, he returned to the desk, but didn’t sit down. Instead, he opened the book, removed a paper that was heavily creased with two folds, and put it on the desk in front of Smith who took a pair of glasses from his pocket. “We know they occur in outer space as a form of light. Electromagnetic radiation. Perception of this light, call it the Chandra Effect, can be observed with the use of special telescopes.”
“Yes, that’s right,” agreed Smith.
“What if I told you that certain conditions make it possible to observe this light with the naked eye?”
Smith nodded, “Explain how that’s feasible.”
“It’s been proven that ley lines have certain properties and these properties have electric charges. There are times when unusually heavy charges are produced.”
“Batteries,” suggested Smith.
“Yes—batteries. At or near these ley lines, especially at latitudes north of the 37th parallel, certain rocks, especially those under pressure, can act as insulators, and then become semi-conductors that produce electric current and create outbursts of light. Granite is an excellent conductor of electricity, and the more pressure exerted, the stronger the electric current passing through the granite. Ionized air begins to glow, much the same way gas is activated in a fluorescent tube.”
Smith looked at him closely, “You’re speaking about the Piezoelectric Effect.”
“To some extent, yes.”
“In theory, it makes sense, but . . . ”
Cutting Smith off abruptly, “I can assure you it’s more than theory.”
“You’re suggesting deliberate actions are required?”
“That’s right,” answered Chase. He walked around the desk to open one of the drawers, and took out a canvas bag, which Smith recognized at once. Placing the bag on the desk, he slowly unfastened the straps, looking at Smith the entire time. Removing a rock, the size of a softball, he placed it gently in front of Smith, “You need a trigger.”
“Quartz?”
“Or feldspar.”
Shaking his head and looking at the rock in front of him, Smith asked, “So let’s say you have found a way to manufacture this light and observe it without the use of a telescope, what’s the point?”
He picked up the newspaper that Smith had brought with him, unfolded it, then took a few seconds to glance over the article, until he found what he was searching for. “This is the point. Witnesses reported seeing a green shaft of light at both the Newburgh and Saint Meinrad sightings. It’s right there in front of you.”
“We’ve had numerous reports of green lights at various sightings, not to be denied. But we decided these were a phenomenon relative to atmospheric conditions, nothing more than that,” said Smith.
“This is not about atmospheric conditions. It’s not ball lightning or anything like it, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Charlie stated. “I think you’re seeing a split or crack in time . . . a portal.”
“What comparative data do you have—if any?”
“Not much,” Charlie confessed. “There are reports of strange lights in several places. Those places with higher frequencies of UFO recurrence need to be considered more seriously. Though academics are studying these phenomena, too many questions about their origins remain unanswered. You’ll agree that some sightings are reminiscent of foo fighters so prevalent during World War II.”
“We’re aware of all that,” admitted Smith. “It’s old news.”
“To frame this in a more recent context, and primarily out of curiosity, I ran spectrum analyses on the Marfa lights, and the strange lights at Brown Mountain in North Carolina.”
“And . . . ”
“I’m convinced we’re dealing with different phenomena.”
“If you’re asking us to read between the lines, Charlie, there are still too many pieces missing, important pieces that offer definite resolutions to a complex phenomenon, which some of the best minds have studied for decades. It can’t be something as simple as quartz or feldspar.”
“Deposits of feldspar are abundant as veins in both igneous and metamorphic rocks, and though this mineral is found in many different types, only the parallel striations of K-feldspar seem to create the right properties necessary to generate a charge. Excessive amounts of electricity create magnetic fields, which in turn create lift.”
“I’m listening,” Smith assured him.
“That’s where we begin.” He sat down behind his desk, regarded Smith carefully, as though he wanted to be sure of the man’s reaction to what he was about to say. “I tell you again that the answers are in energy grids, and unless you’re willing to consider them in a broader context, beyond what you expect to find, those answers will remain light years away. You know as well as I do, or I wouldn’t be sitting in front of you now, that the parameters of many hypotheses are too narrowly defined. Confinement leads to presumptuous narrow-minded thinking, which always comes up short. Discovery is too often outside of the box. Nikola Tesla was on the right track with his Wardenclyffe Tower idea, just way too far ahead of his time—or ahead of J. P. Morgan’s money.”
Smith stared at the carpet, his arms crossed and both feet fixed firmly on the floor, as though he was hesitating to respond to Chase’s remarks about Tesla. “You are not the first to express this more radical perspective, and as far as I know nothing definitive has come from such thinking.”
“I’m saying there are times when chance has a higher probability rating than the methodical, time-intensive, plodding rigidity of mainstream science. Suppose Tesla was really onto something with his alternating current research, his wireless transmitter concept.”
“Go on, Dr. Chase.”
“What if equally powerful transmitters could be created by using natural resources? Furthermore, what if there are numerous places where these Tesla-type towers already exist, and have existed for millennia? Consider the possibilities.”
“Suppose you’re right,” began Smith, regarding Walking Einstein carefully. “If you know the matrix, so to speak, then you can create a gateway?”
“No, not yet anyway. The fundamentals are there, but not the solution.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There are too many variables.”
“Screw the variables,” snapped Smith. “We’re not the only ones working on this.”
“I think these time slips are natural phenomen
a,” admitted Chase. “But suppose there is a way to control a source of power that is essentially unattainable.”
“Controlled, but unattainable. You’re playing both ends against the middle here,” Smith alleged sharply. “The question is why is this power so damned unattainable?”
“Because it’s generated or manufactured power that needs to be manipulated,” Charlie answered.
“You want me to believe it’s alien intervention?” Smith was trying to get a more precise response and seemed irritated at Chase for proposing what Smith considered, “ambiguous clutter, in the way of clear thinking.”
“No.”
Smith, still regarding Chase with a hint of skepticism, “Then what are you saying?”
“Not unless we’re the aliens. It is often prudent to look behind—at the past. Solutions are not always in the present or discovered by looking ahead.”
“There’s nothing profound in that thinking.”
“It’s not meant to be profound. Suppose ancient Egyptians had contacted another civilization in the Orion star system, for example. We know how important the Orion belt was to other cultures like the Hopi of Northeastern Arizona, whose mesas are said to correlate with the three belt stars of Orion. The point is that a transmitter was needed to make the connection. Again, ley lines played a significant role in these early efforts, the same as they do today. So, I’m saying there are key geographic regions, many of them already identified, and these are the places where we begin to establish accelerators. If you continue to underestimate or deny the importance of these sites, you’ll move backward—not forward. That much I can assure you.”
“You’re holding something back, Dr. Chase,” stated Smith firmly. “What is it?”
“Only that by synchronizing the vibrations of certain towers, possibly in patterns yet undiscovered, and with enough current passing through them, it might be possible to generate energies strong enough to create a portal, a wormhole in the fabric of space and time.”
“What else?” Smith pressed.
“We already know that musical notes create patterns of sound waves. Pushing further, and with the right technologies, these energies or vibrations can be transmitted into space with one specific intention—to communicate.”
“We’re already doing that, Chase. The Sirius star system has been a target for decades and we’re still looking at recent data that suggest a possible response.”
“But to manufacture the necessary energy for a time portal these rock transmitters, especially those at sacred sites, need to be utilized. These particular sites are there for specific reasons, and because many of these sites have been rebuilt on over the centuries, there needs to be a thorough chronological examination of them as places where existing energies are still present—places where those energies can be manipulated.”
“There must be a logical reason for rebuilding at these same locations, something that’s always there—something indigenous and found at each site.”
“Sand,” said Chase.
After looking closely at Walking Einstein, Smith removed a mobile phone from his suit pocket and punched in one number. “I think we’ve got something.”
Chapter 26
Charlie Chase knew he was walking a tight line. Government people were usually impatient and wanted answers immediately. National security was always an issue. No reason to think this time was different. The whole situation had shadings of the space race. With technology this extreme, the ones who controlled it had the assurance of utilizing its capabilities and powers to accomplish several hegemonic objectives. Although that kind of potential was still not entirely comprehended, Chase was convinced that interdimensional travel, if it could be called that, could eventually alter the landscape so enormously that the world in which he lived would never be the same. He knew also that Smith was not going to let him drag his feet too long. Something continued to cause anxiety. These were thoughts that the military was less altruistic than Smith wanted him to believe, that already being considered were dark sinister motives, which had everything to do with military directives.
Whether signals had been received from the Sirius star system, as Smith had implied, Chase couldn’t say with complete assurance. With the enormous technologies available, it was entirely possible that transmissions had been broadcast and received. If sent messages had been returned, then Smith was in search of something else, and every indication pointed to magnetic fields and their influences on theoretical time portals. Chase suspected that Smith already realized the potential for a portal was not to be discovered in the stars, but in terrestrial locations where there were strong confluences of ley lines.
Charlie was not entirely in the dark, but he was reluctant to reveal too much. Maybe he had said too much already. Smith would quickly realize the conductive properties of sand and make the logical connection to energy grids. When Chase caught Smith’s expression at the mention of Tesla’s name, he was convinced the man was after other information, which had nothing to do with communication towers or time portals. Charlie had a hunch, a seriously troubling hunch that General Moro Eugene Elkins had objectives that were exclusively terrestrial.
Plurality of worlds, or the multiverse, was undeniably prioritized at the highest levels. Whether the military had discovered all the finite elements of a matrix allowing for interdimensional travel, was in Chase’s mind, unlikely. Not only that, there remained too many think tank academics whose idea of time travel involved walking from their desks to the nearest bathroom. These disbelievers were not capable of a single original thought. They sailed merrily along, across smooth seas, the ship always steady, always upright. If originality bit them in the ass, their liberalism would numb the pain. Self-aggrandized freeloaders with inflated paychecks, these narcissistic bastards were the mouthy hypocrites spinning their narratives at universities everywhere—bloggers of progressive insanity.
For Walking Einstein, the future might be in the very same space he was living his life, and if he could discover how to push though the invisible wall, that future would be accessible to him. Reports of pilots lost in magnetic fogs were not uncommon. And there were numerous accounts of people disappearing into thin air—while in the presence of others. Were these people destined to leave this universe for another?
As far as Charlie could figure, Smith did want him to determine with certainty those locations where there were extremely high concentrations of regenerative energies. He already knew about Sedona, Dulce, Marfa, as well as other mainstream locations. The man was asking for something bigger. Walking Einstein knew precisely where to begin, or more to the point, where to continue his search for hot zones, where energy grids had both kinetic and elastic properties. One of those places was along the Ohio River. Like the Abbey at Saint Meinrad, places farther south had magnetic fields that were off the charts. If Smith didn’t already know this, he would want that information as soon as possible.
Dr. Charlie Chase had always been reclusive, had no close friends, and had very little regard for ostentatious people. Progressive liberals were nightmare creeps, and the farther away from them he could get the better he liked it. The problem was that these sanctimonious phonies were too heavily entrenched in academia. College and university administrations were full of them. In classrooms everywhere, impressionable students sat in front of them, listening to these idiots espouse their bleeding-heart rhetoric, and enduring their leftist political rants when election results were not what they expected or wanted. Their fundamental purpose in life was to dazzle the less endowed with their brilliance—and they always came up short. Their hate was suffocating, their whining insufferable, and what they created, deplorable. Group think was imprinted indelibly on their foreheads, pinned to their chests, and they wore this stamp like a badge of honor, as an endorsement, as a definitive statement of everything they were not.
Chase was entirely immune to their insidious venom, and the
world they continued to hammer out would continue to be misrepresented by bigoted news media, which no longer had the vaguest idea what journalistic standards were—if they ever knew at all. It was just a matter of time before these egotistical jerks would destroy the Constitution and push society back to the Dark Ages—and then play the blame game for the chaos that they created.
Then there were the take-your-guns-to-town people, always behind the times, the never-willing-to-take-a-chance people, more like sheep with each passing day, the slow-to-speak people, those cautious, righteous, and safe-inside-the-flock people, the revolutionaries who talked the good fight until their conservative proclamations were chastised by shortsighted liberals. Watch the weak scatter. These were the people who always finished in second place and were entirely okay with that. Cowardice and indecision defined them. As far as Chase was concerned, they came up short on every issue, and their words were too easily, too often silenced by their innate fear of being criticized. They would never find the courage to be independent thinkers.
Chase was not a man dazzled by much of anything. His father had left when Charlie was born. Two years later, his mother remarried an educated man nearly 20 years older. Jim was Charlie’s salvation. He was kind and taught Charlie all the things a father should teach a son. The bond between them was infinite. He never knew why his real father had left, knew only that he was not inclined to know the kind of man he was. Jim was the father any boy would love to have, and even when Charlie went away to school, they were always in touch.
After Chase had finished his doctoral work, he had a short tenure as an associate professor in the physics department at Southern Indiana University. His liberal colleagues found him strange. The Department Chair and the Dean considered him too much of a freethinker, whose research projects were always unfinished and pushed to extremes the established dogma of the University. At one faculty meeting at the end of the academic year, Charlie referred to the Department Chair as incompetent, more concerned with his neighbor’s wife than he was about endorsing legitimate research grants from faculty. As expected, this didn’t go over well.
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