Finally, I’d be able to share this information in public. After that the responsibility for knowing about the meteor storm wouldn’t be depending solely on me. “Deal.” I replied.
I got the details from his assistant and started packing for the trip. This could work.
I had never been in a television studio before. What passed for a relatively large stage was in fact rather small. The background was made to look further away by perspective lines and shrunken features like fake windows and outdoor scenes behind them. It looked strange until I remembered that a camera doesn’t have any depth perception. After going through makeup and some prep discussions we were finally ready to go.
Cy entered the stage as the director counted down from five to one.
“Welcome to today’s show,” he said as the applause from the small live audience died down. “With me today is renegade NASA engineer Carl Palminteri to tell us about the end of the world. Carl?”
Here I am trying to warn people of what’s coming and all of a sudden I’m a renegade? What was he doing? I struggled to regain some sense of composure.
“I’m not a renegade, but I came across some important information regarding a very large meteor storm that is threatening the earth and I believe people should know about it before it’s too late.”
“Like the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs?” Cy asked.
“No. That was a single, very large asteroid,” I answered, “This is actually a massive cloud of billions of meteors that the Earth will pass through within the next two years.”
“And you know this because?” Cy asked.
“It’s happened before,” I replied, “Sixty three thousand years ago the earth passed through the same meteor cloud. There was a very advanced civilization existing at the time, much more advanced than we are today. The meteor storm destroyed everything that had been built and accomplished at that time. According to the research I have done, less than a thousand people survived the meteor storm.”
“In what country?” Cy asked.
“On the entire planet.” I replied.
“Less than a thousand people survived on the entire planet?”
“That’s correct,” I answered. “The only people to survive were those who sought shelter in caves. That’s why our scientists believe we started out as cave dwellers. We didn’t start out in caves; we survived the meteor storm there.”
“And this so-called advanced civilization, where was it supposed to be?” Cy asked.
“Where India is now.”
“Isn’t that civilization just a myth?”
“Well it’s certainly presented that way, but from what I’ve learned and the evidence I have, it’s as real as the world we know today.”
“And what, or who is your source for this information?”
“I can’t really give you that. The source is classified and I am not authorized to divulge it at this time.” I hoped that slight lie would make this whole thing sound more credible.
“What do you think people should do about this meteor storm?”
“The only chance we have for survival is an underground shelter or cave. All of our buildings and infrastructure will be destroyed. The more dirt and concrete you can have between you and the meteorites the better.”
“Exactly when do you believe this meteor storm is going to happen?” Cy asked.
“Soon,” I replied. “It could happen any day now, but certainly within the next two years at the latest.”
Cy turned toward the camera. “Will the Earth really be destroyed? The answer to that question right after the break.” Cy turned back to me and shook my hand. “Great job,” he said. “Thanks for being here today.” He pointed off the stage and a stage hand escorted me to the door of the studio.
I stood in the lobby of the studio watching a television monitor waiting for the commercials to end. I wanted to see what was next on the show. Cy’s question, “will the Earth really be destroyed” had me puzzled.
“Welcome back,” Cy said to the audience. “My next guest is Doctor Shelden Woolser from NASA.”
Oh no! I thought. Could this get any worse?
“Doctor Woolser, is the world really going to end?” Cy asked.
“Certainly not,” Woolser said. “There is no evidence whatsoever of any kind of a meteor storm, or anything else for that matter.”
“Well, what about Mr. Palminteri’s claims?” Cy asked.
“I’m afraid Mr. Palminteri has suffered some sort of mental meltdown,” Woolser replied. “He was reassigned from his regular work because of an emotional break down last month. He was required to attend weekly sessions with our staff psychologist, but has failed to show up for any of his appointments. Unfortunately we have had no other option than to terminate his employment at NASA.”
“And his classified source for the information on the meteor storm?” Cy asked.
“Mr. Palminteri wrote computer programs for the accounting department. He had no security clearance and no access to classified materials. I’m afraid this is all a figment of Mr. Palminteri’s imagination.”
I felt sick to my stomach and dizzy. I couldn’t take any more. I walked out the door of the studio and headed back to the hotel. I thought things couldn’t get any worse, but they were about to do just that.
CHAPTER 5
Two hours later, I was in a bar down the street from the hotel working on my fourth whiskey sour. I still had three hours before I had to be at the airport for my flight back to California. Sports were on the television set above the bar, so I was spared any dialog about my humiliation on the Cy Cobb show.
I became aware of a man standing next to me and looked up at him. He was tall and well dressed in an expensive three piece suit, classy shoes and short dark hair. He didn’t have a tan, so he wasn’t from around here. He also looked seriously out of place in a sports bar. He stared down at my travel bag next to the bar stool and then looked back at me.
“Carl Palminteri, I presume?” he said.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I’m thinking we can help each other out here.” I looked around the bar to see if anyone else was listening. It looked like it was just the two of us.
“I’ve already been helped out of my job, what do you want to help me out of now?”
He smiled, “May I?” he said as he motioned to the stool next to mine.
“Whatever,” I said as I waved my hand toward the stool. I downed the last of my drink and motioned to the bartender for another.
“I saw you on the Cy Cobb show,” he said. “How did you know about the meteor storm?”
“Does it matter?” I asked.
“It does to me.”
I looked at him again. He didn’t seem aggressive, nor interested in continuing my humiliation.
“And why would you want to hear anything I might have to say after the Cy Cobb show?”
“Because it’s classic deny and ridicule strategy. They use it to discredit real information when it opposes the existing paradigm.”
“Deny and…”
“Ridicule,” he said. “Very effective in the public forum.”
“Yeah, you got that part right,” I replied, taking another sip of my drink.
“So how did you know about the meteor storm?” he asked again.
Maybe it was the alcohol; maybe I just didn’t have anything else left to lose. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time,” he said.
I stared at him for a moment. He seemed honestly interested.
“What the hell, why not?” I replied. I told him about the robot’s head being found on the moon, and how I ended up with it in the Clark Street Storage Facility.
“And the missed appointments with the shrink?” he asked.