The Goldilocks Zone

by David D. Luxton

  “Yes, that was me.”

  “I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to be associating with you. All of this crazy UFO stuff. I don’t need my son getting involved in this anymore than he already has. I’m sorry. Goodbye, Mr. Davenport.”

  Brenda and I headed back to the car. “My first attempt at interviews in more than three months and failure,” I said. “Maybe I can try again in a week. Journalistic persistence often pays off.”

  We were half way back to the Home Depot parking lot when my phone chimed. It was an Facebook message from Jared.

  Saw you at my house. I want to talk to you. Meet me at the Skate Park near the river in 30 minutes.

  I showed Brenda the message. “He must have heard me and his mother and found me on Facebook. Do you know where this skate park is?”

  “Yeah, all the kids hang out there after school. Let’s go.”

  When we got to the park, we waited on a park bench. I watched for a teenager who resembled the image I’d seen online. At last, a tall, skinny blond kid rolled up with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

  “Are you Jared?”

  He kicked up his skate board and held it. “We weren’t even out there that night. We were here.”

  “So you weren’t even there? Someone must have told you to say it was you, right? Who was it?”

  “Two dudes in a jeep. One of them gave us a thousand dollars each if we said we did it.”

  “What did they look like?”

  “Short hair.”

  “An East Coast accent like from Boston? Body builder?”

  “No.”

  “Skinny? Blonde hair with sunken eyes?”

  “Nope, two dudes, man, lookin’ like they were in the Army or something.”

  “Had you seen him before or since?”

  “No. When I asked, he just said he wanted to mess with those people who watch UFOs.”

  “When and where did they approach you?”

  “Right here. We skate here all the time.” He dropped his skate board on the ground and kicked it up again. “I’m only telling you because I saw you on TV. Are you really sure the aliens are coming?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, “We’re trying to figure some things out.”

  “I gotta go. Promise not to tell anyone that I told you this.”

  “We promise,” I said.

  He threw his board down again and rolled off into the darkness. I looked at Brenda. “Well, I guess Daniel was right: Someone from the government wanted me to think it was a hoax. But why?”

  “Maybe to get you more involved,” Brenda said. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you come out to my place later this week? We can discuss this more.”

  We made arrangements, then she returned me to the Home Depot parking lot. Not long after I arrived at the ranch, Nadine called me up to the house. I hoped to hell she hadn’t found out about Brenda and me investigating.

  I stood in the doorway of her office as if reporting to a military commanding officer. “You spent a lot of time in town this weekend. Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “I just had some errands, oil change and stuff.”

  “You seem distracted lately. Is something on your mind?”

  “Maybe I’m just nervous about the Proximians coming. I wanted to stock up on some medications and things, too.”

  She nodded. “That’s understandable. Everyone is on edge right now. Daniel needs you more than ever, and I need your head in the game, representing the Foundation and all that we do for humankind. You can do that, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll do my best.”

  She smiled. “I know you will.” She slid a small cardboard box across the oak desk to me. “I have something for you.”

  I opened the box and removed the packaging. Inside was a Blue Tooth headset, identical to the one Daniel used.

  “For your phone, Ben, so you can stay connected while you work. You can keep it all of the time.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll get it set up right away.”

  She smiled widely. “Good boy. Oh, I do have some horrible news.”

  “What?” I felt whatever it was in the pit of my stomach.

  “Remember David Ellis? The police found his car abandoned on a highway just outside of Las Vegas. They found his body this evening. It appears to be suicide,” she said coldly, watching me closely.

  I was in shock but trying to seem unfazed. “That’s terrible news.” Did he really kill himself or was he killed?

  Nadine sighed. “The guilt must have finally caught up with him. May his soul rest in peace.”

  When I got back to the pod, I looked for news articles about Ellis’s death. One AP read, “Skeptic David Ellis Found Dead in Desert.” His body was found in a rural, area of Clark County, on the edge of Death Valley National Park. His wife reported him missing after he didn’t return from the Las Vegas conference. A handgun was found with his body, but no suicide note. From my journalism experience determining suicide as cause of death can take weeks or months. It didn’t seem right. I went over the conversation I had with Ellis in the hotel lobby. Did he really shoot himself or was he snuffed out? Why drive hundreds of miles to a UFO conference and then shoot yourself on the way home? I shot Brenda a text with the news:

  (Brenda) Did he seem depressed to you?

  (me) He seemed level-headed when I met him. But I think he may have been killed. CIA?

  (Brenda) Or he killed himself because of the lawsuit. The Byrnes wrecked his career.

  (me) But why now? Doesn’t feel right. I think there’s more to it.

  (Brenda) Maybe, but you never know what someone’s internal mental state is.

  I knew she was right. How do you really know what’s going on inside someone’s head?

  32: Sally Jensen

  Nadine had me make a run to the FedEx store to drop off some packages the following day. Given that Brenda and I hadn’t had time the day before, I stopped at the Channel 4 TV station on the way back and asked to see the station manager Robert Shaw, about a story, flashing my press corps ID. The station had reported the boys drone hoax, so I figured he’d be interested in more. Shaw was paged, and a few minutes later a middle-aged man in a tweed sports jacket was shaking my hand. “What can I do for you, Ben?”

  “Remember I called you earlier this year about Sally Jensen?”

  “Yes, I remember. I also saw you on 60 Minutes. Interesting story.”

  “I’m still on the Sally Jensen story and want to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay.” I searched his eyes for any signs of apprehension. If there was a government cover-up of Sally’s murder, maybe they’d gotten to him.

  “I’m not going to be in the story, am I, Ben?”

  “No, sir, this can be completely off the record. I’m just trying to understand what Sally Jensen was doing with all the UFO stuff. As you know, I’m interested in the topic.”

  He nodded. “Well, she asked about doing a story on the Proxima Foundation folks. We were not interested in covering UFO stories at the time, but she kept pressing on it. We let her do one short report a year ago. I don’t know why she was so obsessed.” He looked at me to measure my reaction.

  I grinned. “I suppose if you experience something otherworldly, a person can get a bit obsessed. Do you know if she ever went out to the ranch? Maybe to do an interview?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. But I think she met Daniel Byrne at a coffee shop called Bigfoot Java in town.”

  “When was that?”

  “Last fall. She used it as background for the story she did.”

  “What about cell towers and mobile apps? Did she have any interest in that?”

  He looked perplexed. “Cell towers? Come again?”

  “You know, 5G technology.”

  “I don’t think so, Ben, why do you ask?”

  “One of her family members said she had an interest in cell towers. Maybe as background for her story on UFOs?”

  “That’s new to
me,” Shaw sighed, “but we’ll never know, will we? She was a good reporter. The Montana Morning Magazine hasn’t been the same without her. We really miss her here at the station.”

  “What about Jimmy Durst, the convict the police say killed her? Did she have any connection to him that you know of? A story, maybe?”

  Shaw looked me in the eyes. “Not that I’m aware of. Why did he take her up onto the ridge and torture her like that? Maybe he had his reasons, but it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” I said.

  We talked for a few minutes more about Sally. Then he walked me out to the lobby. “Do you really believe in this UFO stuff? The contact with extraterrestrials?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m investigating. Do you believe in it?”

  He scoffed and smiled. “Not really. I think it’s all just a cover-up for technology the government is testing. Drones. I don’t know.”

  When I got out to my car, I called Brenda.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” I said excitedly. “The station manager said Sally met with Daniel for an interview. They met at a coffee shop in town.”

  “What coffee shop?”

  “Bigfoot Java. Know it?”

  “Yes. Holy shit, she met with Daniel Byrne? She didn’t tell my uncle about it. I wonder why?”

  “I’m going there now to see if anyone working there saw them or knows anything else about her meeting with him.”

  “I’ll meet you there. I can take an hour off.”

  When I arrived at the coffee shop, Brenda was already in line. We ordered lattes. I asked the barista if she had been working there last fall. She had, and after a moment she recognized me. “Aren’t you the guy who was on TV with Daniel Byrne?” She smiled. “You were abducted by aliens, right?”

  Brenda and I exchanged glances. I could hear her calling me UFO celebrity now.

  “I was abducted, yes, then invited her to sit down with Brenda and me for a moment. She agreed, so we three sat at a table with our lattes.

  “Did you ever see Daniel Byrne in here?” I asked.

  “Yes, a few times, but not for a while.”

  “Alone or with someone?”

  “He’d meet with some blond woman. I don’t know who she was.”

  “When exactly?”

  “Late last year, winter mainly,” she said.

  “Was this her?” Brenda pulled out a photo of her aunt on her smartphone.

  “Blond, pretty, wearing a lot of makeup. It looks like her,” she said, “I’m not sure.”

  Brenda found another photo. The young barista inspected it. “Looks like her, but I can’t be certain. Sorry.”

  “They were together more than once?” Brenda asked.

  “Yeah, a couple times,” she said.

  “Did they seem like they were just talking?”

  “I guess. Honestly, it looked like they were dating or something. You know, joking and laughing, affectionate-like.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve got to get back to work. Hope that helps.” She got up and left.

  Brenda turned her attention to me. “That bastard was meeting with Aunt Sally.”

  “You don’t think they…”

  “An affair?” She shook her head. “I don’t think she’d do that to my uncle.”

  I sipped my latte. “We need to find out what the relationship was. It’s not like we can just ask Daniel, though.” I also knew we’d already taken a big risk in interviewing people about Aunt Sally. If word got back to the Byrnes, I’d be toast.

  Brenda looked pale as a ghost. “Fucker,” she said, then sighed and stood up. “I should get to back to work.”

  I looked at my watch. It was after two. “Shit. I’ve got to get back to the ranch.” I stood up. Brenda left her latte untouched. “Want your coffee?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. I could tell she was still in shock about her aunt and Byrne “Joking and laughing.”

  We walked outside and stood by our vehicles. “I’ll see what else I can figure out about all of this,” I said. “Brenda, I’m going to help you solve this, I mean it.”

  She hugged me close. It felt good, and holding her close got me a bit excited.

  33: Digging Deeper

  The camera crew arrived on Tuesday and began filming long-shot scenes for the big documentary. Daniel had me tag along in the golf cart to take photos and video of the shoot for “behind the scenes” bonus material.

  I spent most evenings scanning the Internet for information about cell towers and electronic mind control, diving deeper down into the rabbit hole with every click. A journalist named Jessica Cassidy—a journalist graduate of my alma mater—had been a member of Journalists Without Borders but had gotten into trouble a few years back after being accused of releasing classified information about a new directed energy weapon system the US Department of Defense was developing. She was now living in Costa Rica, surviving as a freelance writer with a hit podcast called Proof Pudding. I made contact with her via a secure messaging app. She was familiar with my work and had seen the 60 Minutes interview I had done with Daniel and Mike. I was worried the secure app wouldn’t function given the possibility of a government conspiracy at play, but it worked. We set up a video call over the same secure app when I knew I’d have some time alone. She wore a silver beanie and dark glasses.

  “I have some questions I’m hoping you could help me with,” I said, “regarding Congressman Matthew Young and his possible involvement with a black project involving 5G. Have you heard anything about this?”

  There was a long pause as she sat thinking, maybe worried about government surveillance or my intentions. At last, she said, “Everyone knows he’s on the Senate Armed Services Committee and supporting DARPA, possibly the secret program called Operation Mindscrew that involves electromagnetic transmitters and mind-altering frequencies. The buzz about this a few years ago went dark after the Presidential election.”

  “Would Mindscrew involve DARPA technology that’s able to cause mass hallucinations?”

  “Delusions, hallucinations—you’ll find all kinds of stuff on the Internet about how the CIA is using 4G and 5G microwave towers for directing mind-control frequencies at targets. No one has confirmed this, though, and Young never mentions it.”

  “Is the program still active?”

  “I don’t know. Journalists, myself included, who’ve tried to find out have been called crazy and ‘canceled’ from social media. No one employed will touch the topic now.”

  “What about testing on Indian reservations in Washington and Montana?”

  She paused again. “It’s possible. You’d have to test towers with a specialized radio spectrum analyzer to determine what frequencies they’re emitting. But with evidence, it’s not like you can do anything with it to convince the public that the government is up to no good. No one will take you seriously, and mainstream journalism is just disinformation and spin for manipulating the masses. Try to report the truth and you get accused of being crazy and then buried. The world is fucked. The best thing you can do is get away from high population density areas and shield yourself the best you can.”

  I held up my beanie.

  She removed her hat to reveal a beanie similar to mine. “You should be wearing it.”

  I slipped my beanie on, then told her about the iM4ET app and what I’d learned from Jonathan Mahue. I asked her what she knew about using electromagnetic fields to target specific individuals.

  “There’s a professor named Dinesh Trivedi in India who’s an expert on this,” Jessica said. “I contacted him when I was doing my research on the directed energy story. He specializes in nanotechnology. You should talk to him. I’ll give you his secure chat link.”

  “That would be great,” I said, “I’m planning to get to the bottom of this.”

  “That’s what a journalist is supposed to do. Let me know what you find out about this app thing and UFOs. Maybe I can have you on the
podcast sometime.”

  Chester was at the door, so I ended the call as he entered and hid my EMF beanie under my pillow. We chitchatted about the events of the day, then turned in. Apparently, Daniel had begun extra-long meditation sessions during the evening, and Chester and Mike were assigned additional security duties around the ranch compound.

  The next evening, I located Dinesh Trivedi, PhD from Stanford and MD from All India Institute of Medical Sciences in Delhi. I sent him a message, telling him that I was a journalist researching for a story on nanotech. He responded the next day and we made arrangements for a call that night.

  “How can I help you, Ben?” He asked in thick Indian dialect.

  “I’m trying to learn more about how nanotechnology could be used to cause hallucinations. Is this possible?”

  “If nanotubes can be used to carry psychotropic medications, they can be used to cause hallucinations, absolutely,” he said.

  “I saw that you are conducting research with nanobots controlled by radio waves.”

  “Yes. The nanobots are armed with radio transceivers for remote control. They can be turned on or off, commanded to release chemical compounds, and remotely reprogrammed. This technology has been in development for more than two decades.”

  “Could cellular phone transmission be used to control these nanobots?”

  “Why not? Cellular bandwidth extends to high frequency radio waves. Nanobots would need to be synchronized and calibrated to appropriate brain frequencies. If you wanted to target just one person at a time, from space, you’d have to keep people apart by six feet or so.”

  “Is the United States government testing this technology?”

  “Oh yes, the U.S. Army, for medical applications, biotech corporations, university labs, my lab here, of course, DARPA. Nanotechnology is the hottest issue going.”

  Congressman Young was a big supporter of DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. There had to be a link. “So, it’s conceivable that 5G millimeter waves could be used to control nanobots.”

  Dr. Trivedi seemed surprised that I was putting it all together.