Thomas’ decision to spill the beans to Harriett had triggered her in a way that scared him and was out of his control but also engaged and delighted him. She had found an intellectual motivation to push into business proper, beyond being a sole trader with a specific skill. This was to be applauded. She had visions that were set in a real world context, which she could articulate and even work towards in a totally legitimate fashion. Nothing she had done or would do was remotely questionable. With Harriett having just turned 50 when she started Hall Associates and both kids long gone and settled, they were largely free to pursue their own agenda. What scared him was the prospect of decisions yet to come that could lead her into his darkness. In this respect, he was operating on pure faith in Harriett’s formidable skills and judgement, supporting and advising her wherever possible. His delight came in seeing her so invigorated, driven and quickly successful. It felt good to be working together, connected by a secret.
“When we’re doing these contract and legal translations, tons of it is standard wording, so any translator can do a lot of the work very, very fast, just from pattern matching. Then, they just spend the time translating the contract-specific phrases. That drops our workload massively, we bill the full estimate and take a massive margin. The translator works less or more, as they prefer, gets a decent rate and is motivated to be efficient. This won’t last forever but make hay while the sun shines.” Harriett was good at working smarter, not harder.
“There could be legit need for government translation work. There’s a backlog.”
ECHELON had been hoovering up communications globally via IntelSat and other networks that the US had tapped into. Every call across the US border was recorded as well. There weren’t enough people to listen to all the material that the Agency wanted to listen to, a lot of which didn’t even need translating.
“There’s going to be $45,000 in the company at the end of this year if we keep up at present work rate. I need to think about planning now. One year, five years and ten years. How do you fancy an invite to my board meeting?”
“Depends who else is invited?”
“Just some redhead broad who has a penchant for French wine and ballroom dancing.”
Harriett didn’t need much in the way of guidance. She was already in command of her own vision. Civilian work followed straightforward, replicable patterns. Expansion across the US was the next sensible step to just grow the model that she had. Getting into government translation and listening work would, as she saw it, require cultural change. Linguists were direct employees of the various services, which meant they were fully vetted and cleared. In a time of need or backlog, there was an opportunity to get the government to engage with the private market on highly specific remit. That could mean piecemeal work with lower clearance levels that could be trusted to the right contractors. Military contracting was nothing new, so contract language work wasn’t such a leap, provided it was pitched correctly.
Further down the line, Harriett’s interests expanded radically. Breaking into the field of audio surveillance gear was intellectually interesting to her and could be a product line. Her time in Bletchley with Turing took her down other avenues. It was clear to her that the computing field was key to the future, even if she wasn’t sure exactly how things would pan out. She saw the distinction between data storage and data processing, where processing had the greatest value.
“What’s the point in a library if you can’t read? You can have all the information, but you need to understand it.” she asked.
“But a computer doesn’t understand English or Chinese, so that’s not going to plough through all the translation and language work.”
“No, but they do understand, in part, the universal language of maths right now. It’s a question of how much they can understand and what you can build on top of that. That’s all processing.”
As a cryptographer, Thomas understood her faultless logic. That she immediately raced off into big concepts pleased him immensely.
“Turing wanted to build a brain. That’s happening now, it’s just that people don’t talk about computers in those terms. What could you achieve if you constructed an artificial brain?” she asked.
“It’s as much to do with the quality of the programming as it is to do with raw power. Do you want to build a computer or build a program, or both?”
“Not sure, I’m not expert. It’s not the thing, or the how, but the end result I’m interested in.”
“Do what DARPA does. If you get a question or a problem you want answering, fund it for a fast turnaround. You could buy research time from smart people at universities. In fact, you could try it with audio products. See if they can find you one thing that makes a mic or a bug better than the last one.”
“Harriett’s busy, it’s great to see. She’s so good at it all. Very satisfying, Sir.” Thomas was pro-active. He was maintaining transparency with the Agency on his terms by telling Director Colby what was going on to pave the way for her work. “She’s set up the translation business across Washington and New York. Civvie stuff - legal, personal, business. She had regular government work when she was solo, so she’s looking into what’s available at scale in that field now. She’s trying to grow what she’s got state-to-state. Busy, like I say.”
“That’s great to hear, Thomas. We all need something to fill the space the chicks leave when they’ve flown the nest. Her pedigree is good, so it’s no surprise. You wouldn’t have married her otherwise, would you?” Director Colby’s WW2 record was serious. He’d been a Jedburgh, operating behind enemy lines as a full on covert operative and knew all about GC&CS. Since then, he’d been involved in classic field work, although Thomas didn’t know the nature, just the rough departments. Colby would offer what he wanted to. Thomas laid out in transparent detail what Harriett might attempt over the next year: translation services expansion across the States; branching out into comms gear via some funded tech research.
“That’s what she’s interested in, all based on her experience at The Park. She probably should have done it years ago, but better late than never. I’d like to clear all this with you, Sir, and understand what’s possible in your eyes, please.”
“Appreciate the candour, Tom. On the level, you know the rules and the boundaries, so you can’t help her. Too much. If the work’s above board and she’s got a good product, that’s her business. Who she sells it to becomes a question of what it can do. If it meets a government spec that’s one thing. If it’s good enough to be a ‘weapon’, that’s something else. But cross that boundary when it comes, if it ever does.”
“Would there be an issue with Hall Associates putting in for any translation work with any of the Services? Would that conflict with me?”
“Let me check properly. Gut feeling is security of the material, process and clearance required. Depends which Services and nature of the material. Does she want a job with us?”
“Not really, Sir, but thanks for asking. She’s a good Director. She’s looking to grow work for the company rather than for herself. A full-on job here isn’t quite her thing now, if you know what I mean.”
“Been there, done that, sure. Leave it with me, Thomas. In the meantime, might be worth readying her latest books and reports. Possible interviews required, maybe a quick flash over her vetting. If it’s clearances she eventually needs, we’d manage that formally after any initial assessments.”
“Great, none of that’s a problem, Sir. I’ll give her the good news.”
“Work is good news?”
“It is to Harriett! That’s another reason I married her, Sir.”
“And that’s why she’s doing well. Long may it last.” Colby’s sympathies were genuine.
“Why don’t you come for dinner, Sir? Harriett would love to see you and hear a few war stories.”
“Ha! Bullshit, Thomas. We’d be trading stories, all three of us! Don’t be so polite. How about Thursday? What’s Harriett like to drink?”
They had all been borne of the same fire. Of all the clubs to be in, this one was uniquely special.
“Do you mind if we pick out a car?”
“Not at all, Sir. If there’s a premium to pay, we can make up the difference.”
“We’ll be back in a sec. After you, doll.” Thomas held the door for Harriett and they strolled from the rental counter to the lot. “Pick anything you want, darling. Maybe pick something you actually don’t like?”
“Well, that’s probably…” she stopped, shielded her eyes from the bright sun and scanned the lot. “…easy. Those… or… that, if it’s actually theirs to rent.” Thomas erupted in laughter when he saw what Harriett pointed at. Towards the end of the lot were three VW Campers parked next to a Dodge Travco RV. As there was only one Travco, it was ruled out. Thomas ran to guard the VWs while Harriett went to bring the agent over with all their keys and the necessary paperwork.
The deal was done on the spot for one they picked at random, in a reasonably appealing dark blue, and they headed straight off in the direction of Virginia.
“Looks like we won’t need that hotel after all, love! This is one way to charm your wife - reliving a past life that she never had. We missed out on the hippy era. Are we making up for lost time?”
“We can do whatever you like, doll. How about giving me the benefit of your opinion?”
“As long as you’re satisfied the van’s secure.”
“Random chance and short notice action are two ways to make sure the vehicle’s clean. You’ll have to put up with backroads for a while until story time is over, just to be sure.”
“In ‘68, we got a technological breakthrough, but it was by tedium. We worked out the busted ship had windows and some kind of biological interface. I’m not joking when I say this: it’s taken 20 years to flick a switch, or rather work out that there’s a switch and how to flick it…”
“I thought your lot were the cleverest clogs in Dam Square?”
“To a point, they are, but the problem is bigger than their foreheads are high, even when you stack ‘em all up. The first ship crashed and is busted, but we know there’s some kind of functioning power source. The entity seems to rely on rejuvenation inside the craft. It goes in, sits in the chair and doesn’t do anything. Sometimes, but not every time, there’s an electromagnetic signal that’s fast, sweeping from ultra low to microwave, but if it’s got a signal in it we can’t find it or decrypt it. It’s like a burst transmission, or an initiation system test, something like that. Maybe. The entity doesn’t do anything. We think that some interface or its thought process is allowing it to control something in the ship. But the ship’s busted, right, so we don’t know anything of a lot: what’s on the ship, what should work and how, and what shouldn’t work and why. We’re blind. When we go in the ship, it’s kid size. That’s what they’re called on the base by some of the team - “the kids”, although “Marvin” is its specific nickname. Yeah, not exactly original, but that’s the military for you. It’s tough to get people inside the ship to do much because it’s so tight. There’s no markings, no identifiable controls. The whole thing is like it’s built in one form inside, all curved joins and radii, not panels and components joined together. There’s some possible controls, a rounded lump near each seat, but literally no markings or panels or screens. If Marvin’s doing something, he’s doing it onboard, in the seat, by touch or thought. We’ve watched him every time with cameras and just sticking heads in. Nothing we did activated anything, ever, even by accident. Imagine if there’s a specific spot for the “ON” switch, or a sequence, what are the odds we’ll find it? Do you wanna know what the world’s most boring weird job is?”
“Inspecting Presidential trash?”
“Hmm… OK, the world’s second most boring job is following computer-generated testing patterns that tell you which bits of the ship to press with the severed hand of an alien corpse. Seriously. We’ve been at that for years. Well, some poor bastard has. In ‘68, we found a window control. Press in a spot then move the finger and the windows go to clear, like some bi-phase material. It’s an incredible effect. Imagine aluminium turning transparent! But that’s it. 20 years of that kind of tedium. Well, on and off. No one’s been at this for 20 years straight. So, now we know: there’s an interface that’s probably sort of biological; something on the ship works regardless of the damage; the material has this property; probably other systems or sub systems might work. Plus, the burst transmission thing happens sometimes…”
“Oh God…”
“What?”
“Please tell me, you aren’t going to ask for my opinion on alien skin gloves?”
“Ha ha ha ha! Have I misjudged your anniversary present?” Thomas reached back behind the seat in pretend. “That’s on the list of options, trust me! So, we’ve got that breakthrough that kept us in the game. Then, something else kicked off. A massive ice shelf - Ross, NZ territory - was being explored. Radio echo sounding shows fissures and a sub-glacial cavity - a lake - with maybe a 50’ diameter round object. The imaging wasn’t great. NSA overhears the whole shebang, we get to hear. We direct a sub there, it sprays the whole area with sonar, radar, blah blah…”
“BlarBlar? Is that better than radar?”
“Cutting edge noise tool. Can deter people from over 100 miles and attract suckers from about 50. All of that shows that yep, there’s a lake, 200 meters wide, with this thing in it sat at the top of the lake, not the bottom. Long story short, the Navy boys applied surgical brute force, blew the ice open with two torpedoes aimed at the fissures. Clever lot then got two reduced-charge torpedoes in the lake - wire guided, literally drove them in - behind the object, and blew it out with the pressure wave and displacement. It’s buoyant and floats up to our merchant ship. Long story short, we nicked it, towed it, the sub escorted and then a carrier battle group joined. The Kiwis couldn’t do anything, everyone just denied everything. Relations are a bit icy, but they’ll thaw in time. This thing is a ship, like the wreck, but the edge of its hull is a bit different, gently curved not sharp. So we’re thinking it’s an older version of that ship from the same origins. An obvious test of the windows might confirm. ‘Cept we can’t get in! What do you think?”
“Errm… hmmm… What was it doing in the lake? Any idea?”
“Zip. No clue. If there was anything else in the lake, it ain’t coming out now. The lake was 200m down and it’s busted.”
“Well, Captain Kirk, Vulcan logic would suggest: power, different interface, encryption, pilot specific, it’s knackered, or it’s actually very different.”
“Yep. Agreed. So, now we’re trying to get into the intact ship in the same way as we found the window control, but who knows if that will ever work? We don’t know if Marvin knows about the other ship. If we let him at it and he activates it, we don’t know what to expect. He might escape or God knows what, so that’s been off the books unless we get a communications breakthrough with him… with it. Thoughts?”
“Why don’t you just copy what Marvin does to get in the wreck? Do that to open the other one?”
“Clever bastard never operates the door. It’s busted open in multiple places around the hull and the door’s open. We’ve never seen him operate the door. I suspect it’s totally deliberate. He ain’t a sharer.”
“Where are you up to now with communications efforts with ‘Marvin’? Do you actually call him… it… Marvin?”
“It’s been thirty years and Marvin has held the cards close to his chest. No, we professionals don’t call him that - he’s got three names…”
Its assigned codename was DICE, which was a recognition of the chance of the crash, and the degree of chance that human reality seemed to be based upon. Once NoVeL Comms had been established, it had said that its name was Yentekota, although the way this sounded or was mentally pronounced was not how the closest English spelling suggested. It sounded like a blend of Russian, Arabic and Hebrew, such that its pronunciation was something like Hyjen-te-ch-ko-ter. The entity itself suggested it adopt a human name. A young corporal, Jason Crichton, who was involved with the initial contacts suggested “Abra”, as a shortening of Abraxas and Abracadabra, both of which suggested magical power without having strong overtones or meanings. Its technical classification was NETV01A, indicating which craft it was associated with and that it was the first crew member (A), given that it was the only living entity of the four.
Abra had displayed consistent behaviour that was antithetical to human expectations and research attempts, but was probably exacerbated by the way it had been treated. It interacted and examined every object it was given, accepted its conditions, adopted simple practises like sitting in chairs and lying in a bed, but never by default adopted human behaviours as its practise. It did not consistently sleep in the bed nor sit in a chair. When stationary, it defaulted to a stable upright stance or sat on the floor cross-legged or knees bent in front with feet flat in front. It could maintain these positions for long periods of time. It explored sleeping in a bed, sitting in a chair at a desk, writing with pens and so on, but it never adopted those practises fully, almost as if it was sampling the practicalities of human behaviour and practise, but not needing to use them.
Abra became willing to communicate about its immediate environment and the objects to which it was exposed. The guards tasked with interaction worked up to explaining purposes or practises that they had been authorised to “discuss” through the use of a script, which was read verbally, but Abra was always communicating via NoVeL, asking questions about the day’s topic or object. This lead to conversations that could not be directly monitored or recorded, and depended upon the imperfect recall of them by the guards. This quickly resulted in a guard constantly verbally expressing both sides of a conversation into a recorder, but eventually all guards’ efforts would wane in preference for NoVeL and they would fall quiet, at which point a klaxon would sound to end the session and recall the guard for debrief.
Abra maintained a confounding silence in the face of questions relating to its technology, mission, purpose and biological nature and origins. It even displayed little to no detectable emotion within NoVeL. What it would do is reflect back to the guard their own emotions, almost like projected mimicry. The results of this were peculiar. Guards who became frustrated in a session tended to become extremely worked up, losing their temper and sometimes physically acting out. Negative emotions like this could enter a spiral which had to be cut off quickly. When things had been allowed to run, states of repetitive, violent action could result, like guards punching and banging the window that separated them from it, or headbanging or similar, as might be seen in a clinically unstable person. From these states, guards found it difficult to recall the details of why and how they came to enter the state, beyond the early phases of the conversation that led to a moment’s frustration at its unwillingness to share or reciprocate. Conversely, there were times when guards were spun up into hyper positive states when they had been authorised to discuss topics that led to happiness on a personal level. This had happened frequently when guards had been allowed to discuss their children and wives. An extreme outcome came in the form of a blissed out, somewhat drunken stupor, akin to some kind of drug-induced high of being “loved up”. Blood chemistry analysis revealed varied elevations of dopamine, norepinephrine, phenylethylamine, serotonin and oxytocin, all of which could be self-generated. This had downstream effects. Guards built strong feelings of affinity for Abra and sought to re-enter those conversations in pursuit of the state. Both extremes meant that guards were cycled off communications duty following two extreme states, no matter what. Shielding had been variously explored. Blocking sight or hearing made zero difference to NoVeL. Helmets and Faraday cages of various types and materials did not have significantly noticeable impact. On this basis, it was further assumed that NoVeL was a dangerously asymmetric state of affairs and communications protocols were shortened and degraded. The notion that “you take in what you find and bring out” was adopted, meaning that guards became more guarded and topics were depersonalised.
“But you’ve ‘spoken’ to Abra, haven’t you?”
“Only once, in ‘61. Jesus, that’s 14 years ago. I haven’t been able to risk going back, because of my clearance. If Abra can read minds and he’s doing a burst transmission, I’m a massive security risk…”
If Abra had access to Thomas’ sub-conscious or memory, Abra could tap his knowledge on classified and Top Secret work. Thomas had only spoken to Abra for three minutes. He had intended to ask Abra fairly standard questions about origins, purpose, intent, and so on, but tried to deliberately provoke Abra by calling it the wrong name over and over, right at the start of the conversation. He had greeted Abra as Yeftin and then Charles.
You know the terms of address. What are they?
Thomas capitulated and immediately felt embarrassed.
Abra… that’s the agreed name. Yentekota… that’s what you gave us.
He then proceeded to question Abra, but no answers were forthcoming. As he had asked the questions, he became increasingly overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment, smallness, pettiness and shame, to the point that he withdrew and almost ran to his windowless office 2 floors up in the old holding facility. His feelings had been far in excess of what was appropriate for his deliberate mistake, and seemed to feed on themselves, which he recognised now as a possible loop like others had experienced. Since then he had kept away from direct contact because the lack of self-control was the most disarming and disturbing experience of his life. He had faced mortal fear, watched friends and family die, and killed men and women in overt and covert combat. None of it compared to that encounter, which left him disturbed. None of this found its way into a report of any kind. He had been very careful to underplay the reporting of this to limit panic at higher levels, couching it indirectly in questions about what NoVeL might mean for knowledge acquisition so that he could keep research funding going to answer questions that he already had brief, partial and chilling answers to. Dulles was paranoid enough to join some dots and Helms was naturally perceptive and extremely intelligent. Both of them preferred versions of tight experimental control and extreme forms of non-threatening containment, which had resulted in the Groom Lake and S4 facilities and protocols.
“You’re a slow worker aren’t you, Tom?” she said, smiling.
“Hey, it’s not all my fault. Anyway, I wouldn’t trust all these people with a ray gun. Would you? They’re all goddamn kids. Dulles would’ve taken over the planet.”
She sat quiet for a few minutes, digesting Thomas’ latest major security breach as they rolled through back roads past farmland and woods.
“If you look at this a bit differently, you could try something else.”
“Go on, what do you mean?”
“Well, you’re basically paranoid. You’re - the Agency, the government - is paranoid about power. All these nuclear base sightings, plus what you’ve got underground, it makes you all paranoid. You know it’s not the Russians or Chinese, which is worse, because now you know you’re all powerless. These entities can mess with nukes and have done. So you take that paranoia into everything you do with Abra. How you communicate, about what, so on. That’s very limiting for both of you. But! I understand why, from your point of view, you have concerns about what Abra actually is and you don’t know what the motives are for being here…”
“No need to soften me up, doll, just hit me with it.”
“Regardless of what Abra is, you have to accept that these things have the ability to be here and muck about on their terms. Abra’s crash could have been staged to get the interactions going, you’ve got no idea. Anyway, madness is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different outcome. If you’ve gotten nowhere, why don’t you take a gamble? You could speak to him… it… and if you don’t like the outcome, don’t let it back to the ship, ever, or just accept that we’ve already been invaded and you’re not stopping them from doing anything.”
“We don’t know what we’re doing. Or not doing. That’s a big problem. Imagine Abra is a biomechanical probe to gather intel and report back, like a pathfinder, and what we’ve been doing has delayed or stopped more coming, or something happening. Then I go in and change that, then something happens. That could be… career limiting.” He laughed.
“They came independently regardless of what you might have done since. The ship in the lake shows you that. If shit hit the fan, it’s unlikely to really be your fault, although I take your point about your career.”
Time had given Thomas some answers. Abra was still “alive” after 30 years on Earth with zero noticeable feeding, provided that access to the craft was provided. This meant, in Thomas’ mind that the nature of his biology might not be what humans would consider natural. He had long suspected that Abra was a probe, but beyond that maybe a biological machine. The question of how he became rejuvenated by the craft was unanswered, but it was the only mechanism in play.
This theory gave him a possible safety stop by which to manage risk. If he was going to face Abra, he could time the interaction at the far end of its pseudostasis window then deny Abra access to the craft to force pseudostasis and prevent a communication or transmission event.
“Anyway, love, you’re not quite the same as you were 14 years ago. Maybe take the tapes, play the tones to Abra, or use them yourself when you communicate and see what happens?”
Thomas and Harriett had hypothesised that NoVeL’s possibly boundless nature needed to be dealt with internally, which tied in to work under ESP projects at Fort Meade and elsewhere. It was the Hemi-Sync tapes of Monroe tha t opened up another avenue. Thomas began to work personally with the tapes to ape research he was following in the various programmes to stay abreast of INSCOM and the various Army personnel’s progress. Because of her sympathies and linguistic skills, Thomas introduced Harriett to the tapes so that they could practise the skills together as a closed pair. All of this was off the books. He wondered if either of them could develop any form of NoVeL skill and if Harriett was able to speak to him in Spanish or German and he could understand it, that would indicate a transcendence or bypass of language. By the time of their Camper van road trip to Virginia in ‘75, they had not made progress in this respect, but his dreams had become more lucid, persistent and memorable. Also, they both found it easier to maintain extended periods of concentration and commit more information to memory, which helped him soak up multi-desk information at work. He suspected Harriett’s progress in business was innate.
He was curious about being able to enter a positive or negative loop state with Abra and then break it internally using any technique, possibly while actively listening to the tones on the Hemi-Sync tapes. Perhaps the tapes’ tones would grossly affect or boost NoVeL? Maybe they would trigger Abra or change its ability to communicate? Then again, the power of the loop that he had experienced had stayed with him and what he had seen from footage, heard on recordings and read in reports was worse than he had experienced. To willingly enter a loop state would make him extremely vulnerable and dependent upon other staff, which could trigger untold problems.
You take in what you find and bring out.
Anything he might do was a gamble. It made sense to try to lower the odds, but they would never be in his favour.
He could have taken a direct, private flight into Groom Lake and slashed the journey time, but then he’d miss out on the JANET flight from Las Vegas to Groom. The JANET network was growing in line with Groom activity expansion. His request in 1969 for research restructuring had been granted and contractors working in heavily compartmentalised and fairly short windows brought broader skills and fresh analytical perspectives in to the program. There was no choice but to go beyond the military-led approach. They had been at the limits of that mindset for several years. MK ULTRA demonstrated how closeminded the work had become. Few big picture returns for a lot of cost.
‘72 was when the JANET flights started up in earnest. A single DC-6 shipped contractors from Vegas to Groom Lake on a daily schedule. The JANET network was growing in line with Groom activity expansion. Two craft were housed at site S4, down from the main “Area 51” site. The JANET flights brought various contract specialists to the site to work on aspects of the vehicles - systems, design, propulsion, interfaces, modularity, material science, manufacturing technique. Reverse engineering was the aim no matter its difficulty. Research into operation of the craft was solely within the remit of the Agency, USAF and Navy bound in a Joint Services operation with Thomas at the helm, but was nowhere. Thomas had covertly roped in two Apollo astronauts to selectively review and analyse research results, which had to be disguised as other kinds of work. The two astronauts were the strangest of the bunch. One of them clearly excelled on a technical and operational basis, which is why he had planted the first footprint up there. He was also very insular, measured and deep-thinking. His record showed that he had a workable belief system, which Thomas believed was important. The other astronaut had been on the last mission and enjoyed some of the longest time on the Moon’s surface. On return, he had been affected by the experience enough to start up private projects concerned with planetary-wide ecological issues and the Institute of Noetic Sciences (IONS), concerned with consciousness research and “related phenomena”. These two guys were right up Thomas’ street, but much as he would have liked to, they both had too high a public profile to be formally recruited either inside or outside the Agency.
Material science and structural design research had been structured into a loop that fed out from S4 and COATHANGER research, sometimes via the astronauts into Joint Services and eventually into Lockheed and Boeing. In 1966 the SR-71 Blackbird was an example of this loop in action to push design and materials higher and faster into the sky. The aggressive geometries of the Blackbird stemmed from the crash-damaged craft, NETV01, at S4 whose leading edges were similar to the sharp curvature of the Blackbird and had been shown to improve supersonic shockwave characteristics in atmospheric flight. What they did outside of an atmosphere was unknown.
COATHANGER did not necessarily give people answers because reverse engineering was incredibly difficult and slow. What it did, primarily, was serve to tell people that all limits could be overridden, which led to funding justification for semi-credible research in an era of unprecedented money printing. This pushed the exponential technological wave across the globe, beyond the arms race unleashed by the Manhattan Project. COATHANGER occasionally punctuated that with research findings that Thomas was willing to tactically drip feed out in order to keep interest and value where he wanted it.
At the back of the JANET flight, Thomas had time to observe and listen to the contractors and personnel on board. He was looking for a sense of the culture. It was as he had wished: quiet. He aped a civilian contractor in dress, opting for a semi-casual shirt and chinos. A suit or uniform would betray a more serious role. Despite being the Director of the facility and its programs, his name and face was practically unknown to most of the staff. He could get them to do what he wanted and how, without showing his face, so why should he? This visit was an extended trip during which he would be conducting and directing specific research of his own, the findings of which would remain as secret as he could keep it.
He placed his right hand onto the identifier, aligning the web between ring and middle finger with the identifier’s pin, then selected “RIGHT HAND”. The suspended bright white lamp flashed momentarily. It was so bright he could feel its warmth. A light on the box turned green.
“Welcome to S4, Sir. Do you require an escort?” His associated ID carried the name of Harold Burbank, Executive Lead Research. He had full access privileges.
“No thank you, Sergeant. I know my way around.” Apparently, the length of his four fingers in combination was nearly as unique as a fingerprint, adequate for accurately identifying him as Burbank, or whatever name was on the ID and plugged into the access system.
He passed through the security station’s metal detector, was searched by a second member of the four guards then made for the row of vehicles that lay in the corridor beyond the secondary blast door. Unbridled funding could achieve monumental feats. The strategic nuclear weapons network and facilities were proof of this, but S4 was way beyond. The tunnelling through sheer rock was incredible. He knew the geography of the site well enough to be filled with admiration for the capabilities of the US military. Even flat out on an electric cart, it would take 10 minutes to get to the office suite. There was a shorter route by foot using elevators, but fuck that, he was here to enjoy the toys. The tunnels were wide enough to move the largest of the NETV01 & 02 craft from the hangars to research halls underground and could have taken something up to 30% larger. Any of the current stock of fighter jets could have taxied around in there with no problems. Lighting flicked on as he zipped down the run, meaning he was always heading from light into darkness. Whether that was a conscious design with meaning was anyone’s guess.
The tunnel hid all obvious signs of nature. Their semi-circular design was clad in smooth concrete of a darker hue because the rock made up the concrete’s aggregate. The tunnels were fully circular but the road surface bisected the tube. The lower half of the tunnel contained a closed evac corridor with independent atmospheric control in the event of disaster or contamination. That corridor was used in sections to connect labs, facilities, storage and service areas in the lower half. Large hangars lay off the tunnel’s upper half, accessed by hermetically sealed blast doors. In addition to its current purpose, S4 and the wider Groom Lake and Tonopah test ranges served as a weapons and flight research base, and nuclear command, control and preservation facilities. The sites were never really considered complete. If he followed the main tunnel far enough, he would arrive at the tunnel head where all the machinery remained ready for activation if funding for expansion was signed off. What they had at present was sufficient, although in here default catering was garbage.
Thomas was there to undertake a one man mission with unknown risks. Officially, he was conducting a full review of progress and would adopt the required demeanour depending upon the section and the research. Unofficially, Thomas had arrived at a juncture that, in his mind, justified attempting to test his own judgement and his and Harriett’s hypotheses.
The Child Inside - Chapter 13
Red cheatline, “I spy JANET.”