Chapter 9
Panic at the Pentagon
Colonel Benjamin Martin, an imposing, no-nonsense man standing six foot-four, was raised a Catholic but he hadn’t been to church since his wife had died of breast cancer six years earlier. He didn’t understand how God could let someone suffer the way Carol had those last few months. All his life he’d been told that God had a plan and that we had to accept that whatever happened in life had a purpose, whether we understood it or not. People had to have faith, he was told, trust in God and obey His law without question. If they did this, they’d eventually end up in heaven and enjoy everlasting life. But Ben didn’t buy it. He thought that most of what religious leaders spouted off today was just rhetoric, designed to keep people in line and the church’s coffers full. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in God, he just didn’t believe the theologian knew anymore about God than he did.
Since he had never actually witnessed a miracle or believed anybody who claimed to have witnessed one, he was pretty sure there was an explanation for the Bat Mountain phenomenon. His theory was that it was caused by a shift in the Earth’s crust or pressure from deep down in the center of the earth—a thermal shaft, an uplift, or perhaps the beginnings of a volcano. The problem with these theories was that they usually took hundreds, if not thousands, of years to accomplish or they occurred after a violent earthquake or volcanic eruption. But there’d been only minor earthquakes in recent years and no volcanic activity in Inyo County for thousands of years. So, when Senator Howard Rawlings, a close confidante of the President, came by the following week to see how the investigation was coming, he didn’t have anything new to tell him.
“Senator. It’s so nice to see you,” Colonel Martin said.
“Yes, likewise. How have you been?”
“I’ve been better,” he replied soberly.
“So, how is our cathedral doing?”
Colonel Martin frowned. “Well, it’s not really a cathedral. It’s just rock pushing up out of the ground. It may loosely resemble a cathedral but it won’t ever have a functional interior or a roof unless someone builds one with traditional building techniques.”
“So, how tall is it now?”
“Over twelve feet.”
“Wow. Do you think it will ever stop growing?”
“I don’t know. There’s no way to tell for sure.”
As they were talking Randy Perkins from the Park Service joined them.
“Randy,” Senator Rawlings said with a nod.
“Hi, Senator. Sorry I’m late, but traffic in the park has been unreal and we were not anticipating this sudden surge in tourists, so we’re understaffed. It seems like I’ve been dealing with one brush fire after another.”
“That’s alright. I was just trying to coax the Colonel into a bet on when the cathedral will stop growing. He’s noncommittal. What do you think?”
Perkins shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. It’s a crap shoot since there’s never been anything like this ever reported to my knowledge.”
“Well, a hundred dollars says it will exceed five hundred twenty-five feet,” Senator Rawlings said. “I think the tallest cathedral in the world is about 524 feet so, I’m betting whoever is behind this will be going for the record.”
Colonel Martin frowned. “If it’s a geological event it could easily top 500 feet, but my money is on a chemical reaction of some sort, so I don’t think it will get that tall,” Colonel Martin replied. “I’m betting it won’t grow more than an hundred feet.”
“Okay, I’ll take the middle ground,” Randy said. “Two-hundred fifty feet, the person who comes closest wins, and just so this doesn’t drag on for several decades, once it stops growing for a ninety-day period the height is established for the purpose of our bet.”
“Now, fun and games aside,” Senator Rawlings said with a grim look on his face, “have your people figured this thing out yet?”
“No, not conclusively,” Colonel Martin confessed. “Like I said, one theory that our people are throwing around is that someone injected a combination of chemicals into the ground, or they came together by some natural process, and what we are seeing is a chemical reaction.”
“That sounds like a viable possibility?” the Senator agreed.
“Yeah, but the problem is nobody can come up with a formula that would produce this type of a reaction. Besides, our top geologists have analyzed the grey crystalline substance that’s being produced and no one has ever seen it before.”
“So, you’re back to square one then?” Randy asked. “Pretty much, nothing that’s happened here makes any sense and the brass at the Pentagon are getting pretty nervous. The President is wanting answers but they haven’t been able to provide any.”
“So, it’s looking like a real miracle, then?” Senator Rawlings suggested.
“No. I don’t believe in miracles.”
“Well, if it’s not a natural phenomenon and not an act of God, what is it? I’ve heard a rumor about an alien landing there.”
“I don’t believe in aliens either,” the Colonel said. “But, it does look like that circular footprint near the cathedral was the result of some sort of aircraft landing. So, either somebody here on Earth has an advanced aircraft that we’ve never seen before, or someone created the footprint to make it look like aliens landed.”
The three men just looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Senator Rawlings said, “Well, the President isn’t going to allow you to suggest aliens have landed, so how are you going to explain what’s happening to the American people?”
“That depends on how big this thing gets. Once it stops growing hopefully the public will lose interest in it. But if it grows five hundred feet tall we’ve got serious problems.”
“So, we wait, then,” Senator Rawlings concluded.
“For now,” Colonel Martin concurred. “We’re looking into this Bat Mountain Corporation. They could be behind this—some sort of publicity stunt, perhaps. But so far the FBI hasn’t been able to track down any of the board of directors or stockholders.”
After a while Senator Rawlings and Randy left, leaving Colonel Martin depressed and defeated. When he took the assignment he was sure that he’d solve the mystery, given enough time and the proper resources, but none of his experts had been able to figure out what was happening. He couldn’t accept the Miracle-of-God or alien theories. They were just cop outs. There had to be an explanation. What am I missing?
As he was feeling sorry for himself the phone rang. It was Air Force Lieutenant Mason Andrews who had been researching air traffic over Inyo County during the one year period prior to the discovery of the landing site.
“Did you find anything?”
“Actually, we did find something that occurred about three months prior to the discovery.”
“What was it?”
“The pilots of an American Airlines jet traveling from LAX to Houston, Texas observed a large object entering the atmosphere. At the time it was thought to be a meteorite. Its trajectory would have put its landing near Death Valley.”
“So, was it a meteorite? Do you know for sure?”
“Three fighters were scrambled to investigate but they couldn’t find anything on the ground, so it was presumed to have burned up in the atmosphere.”
“Very interesting. As it turns out, our landing site is quite soft. Some of our engineers believe something may have churned the ground to about thirty feet.”
“What do you mean?” Lt. Andrews asked.
“At first we thought the site had been compressed due to the weight of whatever landed there, but on a more careful inspection, the ground turned out to be soft like a garden would be after you dug it up prior to planting.”
“I see.”
“So, one explanation for that would be if the aircraft had burrowed itself into the ground to escape detection.”
“That wouldn’t be an easy thing to do.”
“No, but not impossible. I’m sure we could
build a plane with that capability if we thought we needed it.”
“Probably,” Lt. Andrews agreed.
“So, did the pilots who observed this object descending into the Earth’s atmosphere give an estimate of its size?” Colonel Martin asked.
“They said it appeared to have a diameter of about 150 meters.”
“That’s about right for our footprint.”
“So, you think a spaceship entered the atmosphere, landed at your site and buried itself?”
“It’s a theory,” Colonel Martin confessed. “Not an acceptable one, but something we have to consider.”
“We didn’t find any satellite photos of that area during that time period, unfortunately. So, the pilots’ report is all we have.”
“Okay. Send me contact information on the pilots. I may want to interview them.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.”
Colonel Martin hung up not believing where his investigation was leading him. If he told the brass at the Pentagon that aliens were responsible for what was happening he’d be reassigned and probably demoted. He had to come up with something else. Aliens were not an option.
Tarizon: Desert Swarm Page 9