The Gemini Divergence (21 page)

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Authors: Eric Birk

Tags: #cold war, #roswell, #scifi thriller, #peenemunde, #operation paperclip, #hannebau, #kapustin yar, #kecksburg, #nazi ufo, #new swabia, #shag harbor, #wonder weapon

BOOK: The Gemini Divergence
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The Cold
War / Sunset For The 40s

 

Four Kentucky Air National Guard P-51s were
flying from Marietta Georgia towards Standiford AFB in
Kentucky.

Reports from all over the area were coming
into the Kentucky State Police from multiple civilian sightings of
a bright reflective object moving south in the sky over
Kentucky.

After local air port controllers confirmed
the sightings, the four fighter planes returning home were alerted
to investigate at approximately mid afternoon.

After sighting the object and climbing to
dangerous altitudes in order to pursue it, two of the planes broke
off and returned to base. Captain Thomas Mantell and another flyer
continued to investigate.

Once they had climbed to a high enough
plateau for a clear visual confirmation, Captain Mantel radioed
back that it was enormous in size and highly reflective, it must
have been covered with polished metal. He also reported that it was
moving at a slower speed than the pursuing fighters.

After continually climbing to even more
dangerous altitudes, the third flyer finally broke off pursuit, and
Captain Mantel continued climbing in pursuit of the very high, yet
slowly moving object.

Captain Mantel’s last reported altitude was
30,000 feet, nearly five miles above the ground.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, he was then
reported to have crashed into the ground near Franklin Kentucky,
only moments after his last radio transmission.

His watch was stopped at 3:16 p.m., which was
the moment of the crash.

The sightings continued south over Tennessee
for the remainder of the afternoon.

Investigators never figured out what it was
that he was chasing, but they figured that he had run out of oxygen
and passed out, loosing control of his aircraft and crashing.

*~*

Gus and Jack were working with some
Geophysics laboratory scientists on a new sampling balloon while on
temporary duty to Holloman AFB, just a few miles down the road from
where they had been working at White Sands and Roswell.

Jack was holding an access panel open, as Gus
was doing some electrical work inside of the small scientific
capsule, when Jack glanced at something on the horizon.

“What the hell are those?” exclaimed Jack as
he pointed to the bright silver objects coming towards them over
the desert.

“Their flying saucers,” shouted one of the
scientists in a panic.

There was nowhere to run, so they all just
stood and watched in great apprehension as the two objects
approached and then circled them.

Gus and Jack were fairly calm, but the three
scientists were fit to be tied.

Gus was calm because he partially believed
Lemay’s story about captured German aircraft, Even if he was still
suspicious the story was not entirely true, he was totally in the
belief that the unknown craft had human pilots and not aliens.

Jack was calm because Gus was calm, then he
said, “Boy, those things sure look like what we cleaned up at
Roswell.”

Gus answered, “I was just thinking the exact
same thing.”

One of the scientists inquired in a
frightened tone, “What the hell are you two talking about?”

Jack put his hand on the balloon release
lever, and in an overly dramatic gesture asked sarcastically of
Gus, “Should I release the saucer killer?”

Gus burst into laughter as the scientists
looked on in disbelief and horror as these two were joking around
when the saucers were still circling.

After circling a third time one of the
saucers rose straight up into the sky until it disappeared as the
other continued off to their west.

One of the scientists pleaded with Gus, “What
do we do, who do we tell?”

Gus just casually responded, “Oh, I’ll tell
Volmer. Volmer will tell Lemay, and I’ll never hear another word
about it.”

Jack than added, “That’s how it usually
works.”

Gus finished with, “Yup, S.O.P.”

“Fubar S.O.P.” responded Jack under his
breath as he was returning to his work.

*~*

Schwerig and General Kreutztrager were dining
in an officer’s dining room that overlooked one of the New Swabian
hangers.

From this vantage point they could purvey all
of the saucers and maintenance activity through a window on one
side, and the splendor of the Antarctic panorama through a window
on an adjacent wall.

Kreutztrager asked, “So you are quite sure
that the Allies will never be able to figure out how to produce the
vril?”

“Quite sure,” responded Schwerig, “I oversaw
the destruction of that facility myself. There is nothing left. And
all of those scientists and laborers were important enough to be
transported here. There are none left back in the old world.”

“What if we have another crash, and the
allies are able to recover some of it, can they duplicate it?”

“There was none left at Roswell,” replied
Schwerig, “It is more volatile than Freon, it evaporates instantly
when not under pressure and containment. Unless they are able to
scoop some up and put it in a sealed container at the instant of
the crash, they will never recover any.”

“I hope that you are correct,” responded
Kreutztrager, after he ate a small bite he continued, “Have you
heard that Skorzeny has been able to escape from the Allies?”

“I thought that he had already been acquitted
at the Nuremburg trials on a technicality?” asked Schwerig.

“Yes that is true, but the allies then
transferred him to a POW camp and detained him indefinitely. They
still did not want to let go of him,” answered Kreutztrager, “I
have been told that he has already been granted exile by the
Peron’s in Argentina, if he can make it there. Now he is just
trying to make it out of Europe undetected. He would be an immense
help in recovering more of the Third Reich’s hidden fortunes as
well as helping recruit expatriate Nazis to come join us. I hear
that he has already created a recruiting organization called Die
Spinne, and that his new organization has already developed ties to
the Nachtrichtendienst.”

Schwerig responded in awe, “I have never
ceased to be amazed how that man can pull miracles out of thin air.
You would never believe it if you were to meet him. He is such a
fun loving swashbuckler; you would never think he was such a
producer.

A waiter then came by the table and offered
wine. Schwerig politely declined but the General signaled for the
servant to pour more.

“Herr General, have you read about the
Americans airlift to Berlin against the Russians?”

“Yes I hear the Russians have built a wall
right across Berlin, as well as fenced off half of Germany.”

“It’s a little Ironic, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Goering failed to supply Field
Marshal Paulus in Stalingrad by airlift, after promising that it
could be done,” answered Schwerig, “Now Lemay is doing it;
successfully thwarting the Russians on German land.”

The General chuckled and responded, “Yes, I
suppose that is very ironic, very ironic indeed.”

“This American General Lemay seems to have a
bizarre sense of humor. That is a relief, because he is being a
tremendous thorn in everybody’s side,” after a pause, Schwerig
changed the subject, “I hear that the New Swabian Facilities Energy
Division engineers have fired up their atomic reactor.”

“Yes,” answered Kreutztrager, “I had
reservations about allowing that.”

“What on earth for? Don’t you believe that it
is a magnificent break through in technology?”

Kreutztrager grimaced and said, “Yes, but I
believe that it may also be a beacon as bright as a lighthouse;
bringing our enemies to our gates… We already know that we can’t
further our atomic bomb project because the British are watching
every port on the planet for the export of key supplies needed for
that exact research. Now that we have an atomic reactor, I fear
that it will be the single item that will be detected, and will
then give away our hiding place here. You already know that if we
are discovered, we will have to move immediately.”

The General looked out into the hanger as he
sipped his wine and then put down his glass and asked, “When do you
believe that we will be able to leave these facilities for
space?”

“There is still much safety research work to
be done, even before construction of a space station can
begin.”

“We don’t have much more time here.”

“I realize that Herr General, we are working
as quickly as possible, I myself have still not been able to make
it into space to oversee the progress.”

“When do you believe that will be
possible?”

“Perhaps within the year, we hope to start
construction by the early 50s.”

“What about the new weapons… the
Strahlenkanones? Have they been able to finally mount them onto the
fighter versions of the saucers?”

“Yes, Herr General, I am told that the
weapons systems are fully functional now. If we are to run into
hostile aircraft in the future, we will be able to dispatch them
with little effort… But now we have a new problem.”

“What would that be,” queried the
General.

“We need to develop a communication system
that can not be intercepted by the forces of the world anymore. We
are no longer able to use the radio frequencies that we have been
using for years, because now we are aware that we have been being
monitored.”

“Well, get your best technicians working on
it, I am confident that they will develop something.”

*~*

Volmer was unpacking at his new home in
Huntsville.

It was a much larger and beautiful home than
the military Quonset hut that he lived in back at White Sands.

He was even marveling at the row of Pine
trees that lined the back yard. They reminded him of his childhood
home.

The feeling of being shackled in the desert
had been lifted. His hard work was paying off.

But his solace was broken by the annoying
ring of the telephone.

He thought who in the world would have this
number already?

As he lifted the phone and answered, “Hello,”
he heard the person on the other end exhale before talking, and
already recognized that it was Lemay.

“Have you finished your move yet, Mr.
Volmer?” asked Lemay.

“Not quite yet,” answered Otmar, “What can I
do for you, Herr General; I didn’t think that I was due to report
until the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh, I just called to make sure we didn’t get
too far out of touch, with so much going on, you know,” chimed the
General, “we got the results back on the fuel tests of the Roswell
Debris.”

“And what did they show?” inquired
Volmer.

“Not too damn much, really, the results say
that it was a carbon based fuel,” then he turned sarcastic, “like
there is any other type of fuel.”

Volmer then shyly suggested, “Well there is
hydrogen, for one.”

Then Lemay, suddenly embarrassed, recomposed
himself and continued, “It does say that there was an unusually
high amount of ozone, and remnants of tungsten plated boron fibers,
if that makes any sense to you?”

Volmer paused and then, suggested, “Well the
plated fibers could be used as a filament or a corona, and actually
the corona would also explain the ozone. But coronas are usually
used to create large magnetic fields; I don’t understand what they
would need that for, and the boron would give them unusually high
strength for just normal use. I would need more information to tell
you why they would use them, or if I am even close to thinking of
the correct explanation.”

Lemay blurted out, “Well, you just suggested
more in five seconds than the white coats at Los Alamos could come
up with in five days.”

Then Volmer changed the subject, “General, I
must tell you that Gus called me earlier, and he and Jack saw a
couple of the craft again. He said that they looked just like what
could have made the wreckage at Roswell.”

Lemay suddenly raised his tone, “What, where
the hell did he see them?”

“Holloman AFB, Herr General,” answered
Volmer, “they were working with the geophysics lab on some new
balloon instrumentation.”

“Shit,” exclaimed Lemay, “That’s right down
the damn road from White Sands… They must still be sniffing around
for something.”

After a brief pause he continued, “They also
clammed up on the radio, I have been tuning in every night when I
get home, but the voices have vanished. They must have figured out
what your device was… Has the Airman figured out what they really
are yet? Is he asking you what they are?”

Volmer responded, “I think he has surrendered
to the fact that information that he gives me to give to you, never
comes back the other direction.”

Lemay responded with a chuckle, “Well I guess
that’s ok for now, at least until it grows too old for him to
stand. Sooner of later he’ll start asking more questions.”

“Perhaps that will be at a time when we can
give him an answer, Herr General.”

“Perhaps.”

“Where are you, Herr General? I do not hear
the bombers.”

“Oh, I’m on temporary duty in Germany, The
Russians built this damn wall, and I had to figure out a way to get
food into Berlin. I have the Russians all pissed off at me because
my men are throwing candy to their children, and the world press is
filming the whole thing, it’s really quite a spectacle.”

“Well it sounds just like the kind of thing
you might enjoy, Herr General.”

Lemay laughed, “Yah, even I get some kicks
once and a while.”

*~*

There were more reports than Gus’s sighting
at Holloman, while Lemay was away in Germany; his inbox was filling
up with reports of encounters.

 

1 October 1948

A North Dakota National Guard P-51 engaged in
an evening dog fight with shining metal discs over Fargo.

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