Authors: David Lynn Golemon
Tags: #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction
“No, but we’re still looking. We have several more leads to follow up on.” Collins saw the eyes close and the head shake. Matchstick’s hand slowly released Jack’s own and he decided to go easy on the green guy for a moment. “Sarah’s in Uzbekistan right now and she still has to file a report on the Russian claim of 1972.”
He saw Sarah’s name made the alien smile for the first time. He nodded his head as if knowing that Sarah was out looking for what they so desperately needed made his burden, whatever it was, far less than it was only a moment before.
“Sarah,” Mahjtic said, repeating the name of a woman the alien had always liked. Jack had noticed that she seemed to have that effect on the strangest of people. Henri Farbeaux flashed through his mind and stuck momentarily.
“Now, tell me what’s wrong. Will here says you’re not sleeping and working far too hard. Let us help with whatever it is. The saucer search isn’t what’s bothering you. You knew from the start it would be a long and maybe futile effort to find one. It’s something else.”
Matchstick looked as if he were thinking, then pushed some of the old newspapers aside to find what he was looking for. It was a yellow file folder with
5656
stamped upon the front. Jack looked over at Will and Charlie; they too noticed it was also marked
CRYPTO SCIENCES
. Charlie stepped forward, took the offered file, and opened it. He quickly scanned a report Charlie had filed himself more than ten years before for a class he instructed at the complex.
“Matchstick,” Charlie began, “you were supposed to be assisting us when your other duties allowed you to do so in the Captain Everett situation, and report on any theory of time travel you could possibly know about. Why are you delving into mass disappearances?” Charlie held the file up and Jack and Mendenhall saw the title of the report:
WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO ROME’S NINTH LEGION?
Jack raised his brows and Will stepped up to the small desk, picked up another Crypto file from Charlie’s office, and opened it. He shook his head and then also held it up so Jack could read the heading of Ellenshaw’s conclusions as reported through Europa. This file was fifteen years old.
ENTIRE CHINESE ARMY DIVISION VANISHES IN 1938.
“Do these have something to do with the research you were assigned on the possibilities of time travel and how Captain Everett’s watch could be found in ice two hundred thousand years old?” Charlie asked. Collins touched the front page of the newspaper. “Are the Grays responsible for this?”
Matchstick looked up into the face of the colonel and then his eyes narrowed. He shook his head in the negative, which threw Jack a curve.
“Okay, what do you suspect?” Jack asked.
Mahjtic stood and pushed away from his small desk, took Jack by the hand, and led him to the glass wall. Then Matchstick held up his long, thin arms for Collins to pick him up. Jack shook his head but lifted the small being into his arms and sat him on the window sill that looked out on the desert from the ground view of the basement. Jack didn’t care for the way Matchstick was acting. He looked out into the afternoon sun with his long fingers framing the sill.
“Someone … has … a working power … plant.” His obsidian-colored eyes blinked against the bright sunlight as he turned to face the colonel.
“Sarah and her discovery teams haven’t found one trace of any of the crash sites you sent her to. So I doubt anyone, anywhere has a working saucer engine.”
Matchstick sat on the protruding sill and then eyed Jack. “Someone on this … planet … has a working power plant, and they … are … creating … wormholes.” Matchstick hopped down from the window sill and landed at Jack’s feet, then pulled the
National Enquirer
from the desk to show him the big hole in the ground where the Lebanese resort site had been. “Wormhole effect when … tunnel strikes the … surface of … the … planet.”
“I’m not following your logic,” Jack said. Charlie and Will came closer as they too became interested in the theory the small alien was putting forth.
Matchstick went back to his desk and with the keyboard humming his long fingers flew across the keys. Soon Europa was online to answer their questions.
“Colonel Collins. It has been determined through debriefing that the technology of wormhole travel is complicated. When travel ends, the wormhole must not be in contact with the destination itself. The exit has to be situated no less than three thousand feet above the surface of target destination. If not, the destructive forces of the transit hole will produce catastrophic effects in the area where contact is made. By contacting the surface of target area the ground is pulled up and back into the wormhole.”
“But what about these old disappearances, Matchstick? What do they have to do with this wormhole effect? I mean, they happened so long ago it seems moot.” Charlie Ellenshaw raised his glasses to study the diagram of an animated wormhole that looked exactly like an upside-down hurricane formation ending in a faster-than-light-speed funnel cloud.
Collins looked at Ellenshaw and raised his eyebrows.
Europa answered for Matchstick when the alien typed his answer.
“It has been determined by the slave races of their home world that the wormhole effect is also a means of entering and exiting before IP contact is made. Exiting the wormhole before IP contact with the atmosphere of target area will whiplash the traveler inside to another time realm—thus the suspected experimentation with the alien power plant has affected the earth’s past in several key points.”
“Boy, you have really lost me now,” Mendenhall said.
Matchstick quickly typed in more commands.
“The suspected power plant in use must be in an experimental stage as the nation using it powers it up. While miniature wormholes have been initiated by suspected engine, the knowledge to control the wormhole has not been fail-safed or regulated. Experimentation is creating wormholes that are thus far uncontrollable.”
Again the three men exchanged looks of incredulity. Matchstick was getting frustrated. He typed in more commands and the Europa screen went to full illumination as an animated effect started. It was a wormhole as produced by Europa and her advanced graphics. The hurricane-like storm was spinning in a counterclockwise swirl. It would slink one way as a tornado would and then straighten. The animation showed the wormhole forming outside of Earth’s atmosphere, where it snaked across the screen like an undulating and angry snake. With a bright flash the end of the wormhole opened amid the violence of the storm in space and then a momentary funnel cloud formed. Several saucers flared out of the exit and into the atmosphere.
“This is … a wormhole as … the Grays … use it.” He tapped more commands. “This is what … is happening … now.”
On the screen the wormhole suddenly shot downward through the troposphere, then through the high cirrus clouds until the tunnel mouth slammed into the ground. In moments the wormhole started back up and everywhere—land mass, water, or mountain—the hole touched had gone back up with it.
“I see.” Charlie lowered his glasses back down to his nose and studied the screen further. “You’re saying whoever is experimenting with this power plant isn’t using it right?”
Matchstick closed his large eyes and then vigorously nodded his head so hard Jack thought it would fly from his shoulders.
“And the experiments have caused these mass disappearances throughout our history?” Collins asked as he pulled up one of the small chairs and sat next to Matchstick. He looked deeply into his eyes, wanting to understand why the small alien was so terrified. After all, if someone had an engine from a downed saucer it would allow Matchstick and Compton the tools they needed for Operation Overlord—whatever that was. “How are these experiments with a wormhole opening up rips in time?”
Matchstick typed more commands and then Europa tried her best to transcribe them.
“It has been determined that the wormholes are being shut down too soon after contact with the surface of the Earth, thus the victims, or area of the strike, are pulled upward into the exit hole. When power is shut down the affected traveler will exit the wormhole at a point where it wasn’t meant to go. As the traveler moves through the wormhole an exit can be found anywhere in time; if the exit appears before it hits space the subject will be tossed out. The time frame runs backward from the initial point of contact.”
“So you’re saying that the lower in the wormhole you are, the closer to real time. The higher you are the farther back in time you are?” Charlie asked as he went to a knee in front of Matchstick’s chair.
The alien nodded again, but he wasn’t sure if the humans grasped the science at all—after all, after a million years the Grays still didn’t completely understand it.
“Do you need the power plant from a saucer to create your own wormhole for Overlord?” Jack asked, knowing he was entering into very highly classified territory where Overlord was concerned.
Matchstick looked around, knowing that he was told how secure the Overlord plan was. But as he looked into the eyes of Colonel Collins he knew that if this man could not be trusted, there was no hope for this planet anyway. Mahjtic shook his head negatively once more.
“If they don’t shoot us for asking, what do you need the engine for?” Mendenhall asked ahead of Jack.
“The … power plant … gives off a … by-product … It … is like a … breeder reactor. I need not only the engine for power but … also … the spent fuel … from that engine.”
“Why?” Jack knew they were pushing their luck, as Matchstick knew the information was the most highly classified on the planet and he had been told by Niles Compton, General Garrison Lee, and the president of the United States not to mention Overlord to anyone—even the Event Group staff. Matchstick started twisting his fingers and rubbing his hands.
The small alien stood from his chair and then looked at Collins.
“Power, immense power in … the … spent … fuel of power plant. I … we … the Earth needs … this for Overlord.”
“Okay, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” Mendenhall said.
“Yeah, we’re getting into the area of treason if the president or Niles knew what we were discussing,” Jack said, straightening up and looking at Matchstick. “Now, what happens if we don’t recover an old saucer for the power plant?”
“We … lose … the war in less than six days.”
Will looked at Jack. “You mean with all of Earth’s firepower we can’t win?”
Matchstick shook his head slowly. “We … will … be totally defeated.”
Mendenhall looked away as he heard the word for the first time: defeated.
The room was silent as the statement hung in the air. Collins took a deep breath and decided if he was going to hang for questioning Matchstick, he may as well go for broke in his treason.
“Matchstick.” Jack placed a hand on the alien’s head and then knelt so he could look into the strangest eyes in the universe. “I know the first part of Operation Overlord because I was in on the planning for troop movements and allied response … but the second part of the plan had been kept pretty close to the vest by the president, Garrison, and Niles. What is the real Overlord plan?”
Matchstick shook his head sadly and turned away from Jack.
“I … cannot … tell … you … Colonel.” He turned and tilted his head at Collins, then gave him a sad smile with the small mouth. “So many will … have … to be … sacrificed to even … get … to … the point of Overlord, that … it is best that … no one … knows.” The small alien looked up, sad. “Not even … the bestest … of friends.”
“Colonel, I think the little guy is saying that Overlord includes plans for people we know, and—,” Will started to say.
“Those people are expendable and they, or we, are not to know the details.” Collins patted Matchstick on the small shoulder and then turned away.
“Mahjtic … so sorry … Colonel Jack. But many, many, friends will not survive … even if … Overlord … works.”
Jack and Charlie heard the low moan escape from Will Mendenhall.
“I knew I should have joined the Coast Guard.”
“I think you may want to wait until Matchstick tells us why he’s in a near panic to find this outside of the Overlord considerations.”
Matchstick realized that Jack was starting to suspect that it was not just Overlord that was weighing so heavily on the small alien’s large brain.
“Well, little guy, is there something else you want to let us in on?” Mendenhall asked, far more worried than he had been.
Mahjtic turned away, shut off the Europa monitor, and sat heavily in his chair. He stared at the scattering of papers strewn wide and far. He then slowly looked from one expectant face to the other. The large eyes blinked, sending the double eyelids in from the temple side of his face. They rapidly opened and closed and then settled on the colonel.
“The use of … the … power … plant now operating will force … the Gray Masters into … attacking earlier than they … wanted when they … believe … the Earth … has wormhole … technology. We must find the … engine … and … remove … it … from … the … country that … is … using it.”
“What are you saying?” Charlie removed his glasses and wiped at them vigorously with one of the discarded newspapers.
Matchstick looked at the white-haired professor.
“The Grays are coming, Charlieeee.”
CIA HEADQUARTERS
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
Assistant Director of Operations Daniel Peachtree sat before the appointed head of Central Intelligence, Harlan Easterbrook. He had been lambasted by the career law enforcement man for the past hour about a subject that had become a political mess for not only the director, but he himself: Hiram Vickers—special desk for “Dirty Tricks.” The euphemism meant Vickers collected technology intelligence from any nation he could gather the information on. The director just discovered Hiram had been doing far more than that.
“First the man runs a tail on a closed operative of the United States Army, and the army is a part of this country, the last that I heard, and like it or not I believe we need them to assist in the securing of this country.”