Monica closed the door on her way out.
“Thanks for texting me last night, Nate,” James said. “Sorry that I didn’t make it back to the office in time. Damn… a standard text-based file disguised as a sound-track. No wonder the IBM was going crazy. We never even considered programming in such simple logic.”
Taking a gulp of coffee, Nathan nodded in acknowledgement.
“So, you three were able to crack something where half a billion dollars’ worth of super-computer equipment failed,” James said, and then smiled. “I hope you don’t all expect pay increases.”
“What? That’s a bit off,” Sven said, almost seriously, reaching for another cookie.
Not only did James trust this team, he also afforded them as much slack as they wanted. They had, after all, saved his company last year, and for that he had awarded them generous bonus’s. James also knew that outside these four walls, each of them would show professional courtesy befitting to the CEO of SkyTech.
James spoke of LaForgue abruptly dismissing Yvonne Baird, the non-disclosure and the directive not to discuss any of this until further notice. He also suggested that for now, all analysis on the data should cease.
“She was particularly adamant about not communicating through any form of electronic media, and God forbid, should any of this ever reach the NSA, CIA or FBI,” James said in mock horror.
“But I thought she was NSA,” Sven said.
“No. LaForgue is Director of the OS,” James said.
“The OS? What’s that?” Nathan asked.
“The Office of Security,” James replied. “It’s a division of Internal Affairs.”
“Ah, Infernal Repairs,” Sven joked. “What do they do?”
“Ensure that the other departments involved with national security behave themselves,” James answered. “Much like the watchdog monitoring programs that run on the IBM; basically, keeping things in check.”
“Spies monitoring spies,” Sven said with amusement. “They’re all completely paranoid.”
“So, as far as LaForgue is concerned,” Nathan reasoned. “She doesn’t know yet that we’ve decoded the data.”
“Her own fault,” James said. “She was clear about only discussing that face-to-face.”
“That’s going to vex her when she finds out,” Emily said. “It’s true though, we have decoded the file, now, we just need to figure out what it means. I still have to unscramble the illustrations.”
“LaForgue rubbed me up the wrong way the minute she walked in,” James said. “Not the most eye-catching woman either.” He kept the particulars to himself. “Getting information out of her was like trying to get shit out of a rocking horse. Pardon the expression, Emily.”
“No offense taken,” she said, smiling.
“Based on what you said earlier, JW, we stop all analysis on the data,” Nathan said. “But for now, we’ve simply been commissioned to find the exact location of the transmission’s origin.”
“That’s about it,” James said.
“So, where do we start?” Emily asked.
“Groom Lake,” James answered.
Emily lifted her eyes in surprise. “You’re joking, of course.”
“Nope, deadly serious,” James said. “My reaction was exactly the same as yours when LaForgue grudgingly told me.”
“This must surely be some sort of hoax, James,” she said. Emily was the only one at SkyTech who didn’t call him JW.
“Hang on,” Nathan interrupted. “What exactly is Groom Lake?” He was a published author and an expert in his field of technology. Nathan had many other absorbing interests; history, cooking, micro-bots. He also had an endless supply of trivia floating around in his head, but when it came to geography, even within the USA, Nathan was extremely ill-informed.
“You actually know it very well, Nate,” Sven said. “In fact, it’s probably the most famous place on the continent.”
“Yeah, right,” Nathan said, feeling a little lost.
James listened to the exchange with amusement but said nothing.
“Its other official name is Homey Airport, and more unofficially, Paradise Ranch,” Sven said, enjoying Nathan’s blank expression.
“People that work there have another name,” Emily butted in, adding to Nathan’s bewilderment. “Dreamland.”
Nathan was none the wiser. “Okay, guys,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I give up. What’s Groom Lake?”
Laughing, Sven and Emily responded almost in unison, “Area 51.”
The salt flat geographically known as Groom Lake is situated seventy-five miles northwest of Las Vegas in Nevada and is the classified remote extension of Edwards Air Force Base. Area 51, its more familiar name, was first used in a CIA document from the Vietnam War. Contrary to what conspirators believe, Area 51 is not a location where the US government conceals all its secrets following the Roswell incident of 1947. They do, however, fuel that belief on a regular basis with perceptibly false denials. It allows the US Air Force to build and test stealth technologies best kept out of reach of the public eye; the population’s ignorance and false beliefs being the best cover-up.
Groom Lake certainly wasn’t a secure repository for alien artifacts; it was a weapons and surveillance factory developing technologies far beyond what even the best science-fiction writers could conceive. Telescopes were created with extremely high-resolution lenses and reflectors. They were precise and powerful enough to read the brand off a pack of cigarettes in the pocket of an unsuspecting pedestrian on another continent.
Crystal voice detectors were created with unbelievably high accuracy. These pinpoint lasers were constructed to detect infinitesimally small aberrations from a vibrating surface. The time difference between sending the laser’s beam and receiving the reflected pulse was converted to an audio pattern. Bounced off a car windscreen, discussions from the occupants could be ‘heard’ hundreds of miles away.
And this technology was conveniently fitted on board the so-called weather satellites orbiting high above the Earth’s atmosphere. Using heat signatures, those same satellites could follow the movement of people in the basement of their homes. Nobody had privacy any more. People’s concerns about having personal data hacked from their Facebook, Instagram or Twitter accounts were laughable in comparison to what today’s intrusive technology was capable of.
“No, this is definitely not what you think,” James said, giving it some thought. “Unless some other-worldly intelligence just happens to know the location and use of long-wave transmitters/receivers, or knows all about ZIP and MP3 files, or ASCII encoding formats, this is very much closer to home.”
“When are we expected to go to Groom Lake, or Dreamland, as you call it?” Nathan asked.
“I have a call coming in from a Dr. Lovinescu at ten,” James said. “Nate, I’d like you to stay for that. You can bring Emily and Sven up to speed afterwards.”
“Sure,” Nathan said. “It’s probably nearing that time already.”
Emily and Sven got up to leave James’s office.
“Want the door closed on our way out, JW?” Sven asked, reaching for the last cookie.
“Please,” James replied.
Chapter Fourteen
At precisely ten a.m., James’s monitor came to life with the circular seal of Internal Affairs; a crested American eagle clutching a gold key in its talons. In times of peace, eagles on all official US Government icons faced left. After a momentary pause, a large Accept button superimposed itself over the symbol. There was no choice to decline the incoming video conference. When a security department of the United States called in, you accepted.