He removed a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and unfolded it. “I just received this letter the other day from six-year-old Amy.” He cleared his throat and read. ‘Dear Mr. Byrne, I’m very worried about the world. I don’t want the bad rich people on Earth to scare us. The people from space should be our friends. I want to play with them. Please, Mr. Byrne, tell everyone that we should all just get along and be friends.’
His voice cracked.
“Excuse me,” he said, wiping his wet eyes.
Was this Harvard lawyer about to cry on stage? Were his emotions legit, or was this the TV evangelist? I was betting on the latter.
Daniel held up the letter for the audience to see. With crayons, Amy had drawn a large-headed alien holding hands with a stick figure girl. Three planets hovered over them in the paper sky. He folded the letter and stuffed it back into his pocket.
The woman in front of me was sniffling and wiping her eyes.
“Dear little Amy is right,” Daniel continued. “We’ve got to stop the government from destroying our planet and our relationships with each other and with our extraterrestrial visitors. Our cosmic friends want to share their knowledge, but they are cautious. They’ve been watching us for thousands of years and know the destructiveness of our leaders. Humanity has let them down, and when they have tried to communicate with us, we’ve misconstrued the intent and demonized them. Those experiencers that do come forward to speak the truth about the objectives of the visitors are ridiculed. Cosmic racism, frankly. Just because the EBEs look different and we don’t know them. They may have different DNA, but they are intelligent, sentient beings, made of the same stardust as you and I.”
“That’s the truth,” an audience member shouted.
Daniel continued. “Our consciousness has been moving backwards. It’s like we are stuck, stuck by primal needs of egocentric self-preservation and greed, and we keep doing the same things over and over again, hoping for a different result. You know what that equates to?” He paused, looking out at the crowd.
“Insanity,” a few people called out.
“That’s right, insanity,” Daniel said. “It’s nuts. But we can reverse this crazy path we are on, if we work together.”
The audience erupted in applause.
He waited, then cleared his throat again. “I have to admit, there are times when I feel alone—like I’m Atlas, you know, holding the weight of all of this on my shoulders.”
Someone in the audience yelled, “You’re not alone, Daniel!”
“Thank you for that,” Byrne said. He stood up straight and walked to the front edge of the stage.
“We need to step up contact with our visitors. It’s more important now than ever before that we come together and honor their arrival. We need to let them know that we welcome them. And remember, there’s no need to panic when we start seeing them. Panic and fear are just what the government wants you to experience.”
A woman shouted, “I’m not welcoming them. I don’t want to see them again. They are molesting me! You welcome them, but you shouldn’t!”
I scanned the audience. It was Anna Jo. Her face was red, and she was breathing heavily.
Daniel looked toward the voice. “I’m not here to discredit anyone’s experience. Whatever has happened to you is obviously unpleasant. It sounds like you are a victim of a secret government program to fake abductions. The military does that, you know. It’s called MILAB. They can stage abductions to instill fear in good people like you. I invite you to come out to our facility in Montana. The Foundation would like to hear about your experience and learn from it to warn others of such abductions. What do you say? Will you come and visit us?”
Anna Jo nodded. “Yes,” she promised, her eyes wet but her mouth smiling, the woman next to her patting her shoulder. The crowd applauded.
“Folks, we need to work together,” Daniel said. For a brief second, our eyes met. “We must seek the truth. Now, let’s watch some videos from our viewing events this past year. If you haven’t been with us or seen these before, they will give you a sense of how wonderful it is to make contact with our EBE friends.”
Here comes the sales pitch, I thought.
After several dozen photos and short videos of previous viewing events, he showed the video I’d been part of two nights before. The audience seemed to be astounded. The guy next to me leaned toward me and said, “It’s the real deal, I’m signing up.”
I nodded, saying nothing. Did Byrne have plants in the audience to persuade others to sign up?
Afterwards, Daniel introduced his new iM4ET or Intra-dimensional Meditation Assistant for Extraterrestrial Togetherness app. “It’s a great way to learn our protocol and practice it on your own or with groups in our ambassador’s program. It’s free at all of the app stores. I hope that you will all download it,” Daniel said.
I was intrigued by the app but suspected it was a marketing tool. Nonetheless, I planned to download it later.
He thanked the audience, bowed with his palms pressed together as the audience applauded, then descended the stage for the meet-and-greets and book-signing. The smile on his face told me that he was in love with the attention.
As I waited in line to speak to him, I pondered his real motivations. Perhaps the lawyer life got to him 20 years ago. Selling the aliens-are-here-to-save-us schtick is a great way to make some cash, given that there was no shortage of willing takers. Then there’s the celebrity attention. But maybe he really did believe that aliens are here and had good intentions.
I shook his hand. “Nice talk,” I said.
“Thanks, Ben. It needs to be said, but I’ve been saying the same things for two years now. I hope I’m getting through to people.”
“From the looks of this crowd, I’d say you are.”
“Well, the Foundation and our new facility is the best bet we have to move us forward.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Patricia has put together a dinner for the main speakers tonight. Why don’t you join us as my personal guest? It will be good for you to meet them. They have a great buffet here in the hotel, it’s out of this world.”
We shared a smile over his out of this world allusion.
I agreed and asked him if Nadine would be joining us. I was hoping to ask her more about the Proxima finances. He said she was at the spa with some girlfriends in town. Maybe she’d been to enough UFO conferences. I found myself wondering about their marriage again.
5: Resonance
Dinner was at the restaurant in the hotel. In attendance were Daniel and Mike, Patricia Neumann, Dr. Mazzotti, Dr. Steiner, and Chester from the lived experience panel. I became a bit nervous and embarrassed when I saw them at the table. I hoped that the latter two weren’t upset by my questions at their talks. Still, talking with these characters would make for excellent background.
Daniel introduced me and told them that I was doing a story on the Proxima Foundation. He also told them that I had an interest in UFOs, and that I’d been witness to the Phoenix Lights.
“Ah, so you saw them first hand,” Mazzotti said, smiling. “Where did you see them and at what time was it?”
“We were camping up near Prescott. We had run out of wood for our campfire. My friend Jonathan and I went looking for more wood around our campsite. We had wondered off, I’d say, a few hundred feet, and then I think we both saw the lights at the same time. They were in formation and flew over. It had to have been around 8pm. Not sure.”
“That would have been when the craft was heading south towards Phoenix,” said Mazzotti.
“You think it was one craft?” I asked. “I’ve always assumed that there were several B-2 Stealth Bombers in formation or maybe several planes refueling in-flight. No one really knows, do they?”
“It definitely wasn’t Air Force,” said Mazzotti. “It was a giant V-shaped UFO, nearly a half mile across. Most people get confused by the Phoenix Lights because there were really two events that happened; One was the flares from A-10s that were in a
military training exercise over at the Barry Goldwater Range on the other side of the Estrella Mountains. That was seen from Phoenix. The other was the V-shaped mothership fly-by that you witnessed.”
“Governor Fife Symington came out that he saw it, too,” said Patricia, “as did Kurt Russell.”
“That’s right, he did,” said Daniel.
A waiter took our orders while I continued my questions. “So, if it was an alien craft, what do you think the EBEs were doing? Why fly so low over a major city area?”
“They could have been on a reconnaissance mission, maybe picking up probes. That’s what I suspect,” Mazzotti said.
“I think it was more likely Air Force,” said Steiner.
I waited for Daniel’s response. I was expecting him to tell some story about how he was meditating that night and caused the lights to appear.
“There’s no doubt that there were two events that night. One was the A-10s maneuver, the other was most likely a TR-3B test flight.” Daniel looked at me. “The TR-3B is a giant V-shaped spy craft built by reverse-engineering alien craft. They look almost identical to alien craft. They would have been flying south from Nevada, and the timing makes sense.”
“I saw one of the V-shaped motherships the night I was abducted,” said Chester, speaking slowly with his usual blank stare. “I saw it fly over the road. At first, I thought it was a big jet. Next thing I knew, I was twenty miles away and it was three days later.”
I bet he was naked too, I thought unkindly. “What did the EBEs look like?” I asked.
“They were the greys and they told me that they were from the planet that orbits the red dwarf Proxima Centauri.”
“That would be Proxima b,” said Daniel.
“Are you absolutely certain about that?” asked Patricia. “Maybe they were from Zeta 2 Reticuli, unless we are talking about a completely different species here.”
“I have to agree with Patricia on this,” said Richard. “There are massive solar winds on Proxima b, as far as we can tell. It would make it awfully tough to build a civilization there.”
“Oh, I’m certain about Proxima b,” Daniel said. “Remember, it’s just over four light-years. That’s nothing in interstellar travel terms, and it’s quite habitable for a technologically advanced civilization.”
Patricia smiled. “Daniel knew about Proxima b before it was discovered in 2016. Can’t argue with that.”
Daniel nodded self-assuredly.
“That’s incredible. How many species of extraterrestrials are there, anyway?” I asked.
“Sixty-four known species have been documented,” said Patricia. “Only about five have been visiting us regularly, though.”
Mazzotti interrupted. “The greys, the reptilians, the blond Nordics, the short blues….”
“And don’t forget the cat people,” added Patricia, “they come from Lyra…”
“But we are mostly visited by the Proxima greys,” said Byrne. “The ones with the small eyes. That’s who we’ve been in contact with, and they are friendly, regardless of reports of some abductees.”
I looked at Patricia and then Daniel. “Why is it that all of these alien species are humanoid? In theory, couldn’t they be in other shapes and forms? They could be like dolphins or something, couldn’t they?”
Daniel smiled. “Have you ever heard of Morphic Resonance Theory?”
“No.” I was curious but expecting nothing more that some New Age pseudoscience explanation.
“Morphic resonance theory was developed by the evolutionary biologist Rupert Sheldrake. His theory states that each individual life form inherits a collective memory from past members of its species, or other species. This process also feed backs into the collective memory, which will affect other members of the species in the future.”
I saw where he was going. “So, the human form, the upright biped with a head, two eyes, etcetera, is found elsewhere in the universe because of this resonance theory?”
“Yes. And it’s more than just physical attributes, of course. How our minds work is influenced by the resonance as well. Our memory, our awareness, our consciousness, is not hard-stored information but influenced by the collective. Think of it like this: our minds are not video cameras, watching the world and recording what we directly experience. They’re more like television receivers picking up information, whether we are conscious of it or not. This is also how collective mediation can influence the world; the more people resonating with a particular thought, the more powerful the influence will be.”
Patricia smiled widely. “It’s marvelous, isn’t it Ben?”
I nodded. “Yes.” I looked at Chester. “Chester, I’m wondering about these visions you said you have. Anything come of that?”
Daniel answered for him. “I should have mentioned earlier. Chester is one of our consultants on a very special project we are working on.”
“What kind of project?” I asked, intrigued.
Byrne grinned. “I wish I could tell you, but we are keeping it secret until we finish running proof of concept tests. Mr. Petulli is helping us out with it, and we have the project funded through the end of the year, but it’s going to need more.”
Of course, it will, I thought, more funding is always needed.
“It’s a zero-point anti-gravity device, isn’t it?” asked Mazzotti.
“We’ll make an announcement soon. But for now, let’s just say that the device will disrupt every industry. It’s a game-changer.”
I saw images of Daniel and his assistants in a basement laboratory, trying to make bowling balls levitate.
“I’ve been experiencing high strangeness, too,” blurted Chester, “a lot recently.”
Everyone went silent, all eyes on him.
“I’ve seen things. Little orbs in the sky, in my room at night. Ghosts, too.”
“Ghosts of people?” I asked.
“Yeah, people, what else?” he shot back sarcastically. “I don’t know who they are, but I see them at night sometimes, walking around my house. They are apparitions, definitely humanoid. They seem friendly enough.”
“It’s not uncommon for UFO experiencers to have what is called high strangeness,” Patricia explained for my benefit. “Aliens have a connection with other dimensions of reality. Given that there are portals into other dimensions, you know, it seems experiencers are more sensitive to comings and goings through portals. I describe this in my new book.”
“We’ve been studying the phenomenon at the Foundation,” said Daniel. “There’s so much yet to learn about intra-dimensional travel. In my estimation, Chester is being visited by EBEs through remote viewing. It’s much like what we do to see them. We’d be naïve to think that EBEs don’t meditate like us.”
Patricia had her eyes on me. “You look surprised by all of this, Ben.”
“Maybe a little. These are all extraordinary experiences.”
“It’s okay to have doubt,” Daniel said, “history is replete with extraordinary claims. If someone tells you about something they experienced and know to be true, do you outright believe it as if it were your own experience? Of course not. The credibility of the claimant, their motivation for telling the story, as well as the details of the circumstances, are all relevant.” He smiled at everyone. “But once you experience it for yourself, your perspective changes, doesn’t it?”
“That’s it,” Patricia said.
We talked for another hour or so after dinner. Everyone wished each other well when we were done. I made sure to get each person’s contact information in case I wanted to check facts later for my story.
Daniel walked me to the hotel exit. “I hope you found this useful for your story.”
“Definitely. Thank you, Daniel.”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “Ben, you’ve entered a whole new world here. I’d like to show you more of it. Why don’t you come to another viewing event? We are having one again next weekend. Same place. You should get there early and participate in the lear
ning lecture on Saturday. We’ll waive the fee, of course.”
His hand on my shoulder and the “I’ll be your teacher” thing was creeping me out, but I knew that I wanted to experience a sighting again, whether it was the real deal or a hoax. If the whole thing was bunk, I would need evidence of it, as well. Daniel seemed to trust me, which would give me the opportunity to learn more about him and the Foundation and its’s financial paper trail. I could hear Marcus and Jennifer giving me hell about another trip already, but I’d already made my decision. “I’ll be there.”
Daniel smiled. “Excellent.”
“I want to make sure I get those financial documents about the Foundation. Can you remind Nadine?”
“Of course,” said Daniel. “I’ll remind her right away.”
In my motel room, I sat on the bed exhausted, and downloaded the iM4ET mobile app. I filled out the required registration and toggled through the app’s features. I found the 3D map feature to be of most interest. Apparently, the app could track the location of all of its users on a virtual 3D animation of the Earth, as well as where EBE craft were supposedly spotted. Curiously, the disclaimer stated that the Proxima Foundation made no guarantees of sightings, nor was it liable if injury, psychological or physical, occurred during a sighting. Typical lawyer cover-your-ass jargon, I thought.
I was about to doze off when my cell phone rang. The caller ID read Private. I answered the call. An unfamiliar male voice spoke slowly and softly. “If you want to know the truth about Daniel Byrne, then listen to me. He’s got people launching drones from the north side of the Valley of the Moon. If you want to catch his ruse, you can do it there.”
“Who are you? How do you know this?” I asked.
“Trust me, I know. Good luck Mr. Davenport.”
The caller hung up. I paused to think about what I’d just heard and who the caller might be. Someone from the inside of the Proxima Foundation? An enemy of Daniel Byrne? Whoever it was, they knew that I was doing the story and what I was looking for. I hit redial. A recorded voice said the number was blocked. A mysterious anonymous tip. I was ecstatic. Sometimes they are an investigative journalist’s dream come true.
The Goldilocks Zone Page 5