The next morning he was up and out hours before his normal pattern. He hoped this would not bring any attention to him, but he had to get some answers and he knew that it would take time. Time, he felt, was now his premium asset.
Dropping off the last load of books he had taken to his quarters for study, he then asked where he might find the medical section? He stated he wanted to look up some medication for Headaches. Pointed in the right direction it took little to almost no time to find the book he was looking for. It was labeled Physicians Desk Reference, which sounded right to him.
Thumbing through the book he found the section named Product Name Index. Looking under that heading he found a page reference. The first reference showed him pictures of a small green tablet, but nothing was stated there. Referring to Product Name Index he found another reference that indicated it was a tranquilizer and could be given in tablet or intramuscular injection. The drug was indicated for the management of psychotic disorders.
The most interesting thing listed about the drug was that it was listed with all military ID numbers. This he had to assume meant that it had been developed by the military. Why, he wondered? The only other information he gleaned was the list of side effects that ran the full gambit from insomnia to the exacerba tion of psychotic symptoms including hallucinations. Now, what the hell does PRN mean? He looked through the PDR, it gave him no clue, so he started pulling out other books from the shelves and thumbing through them looking for PRN.
Finally as he was about to give up his eyes fell upon an old paper back book, listed on its cover was, Medical Dictionary and Health Manual. There he found the answer to what PRN meant. It was listed as a prescription abbreviation signifying pro re nata, "Whenever Necessary.". So, he now knew that his friend had suffered some sort of psychotic episode. Because of this hehad been hospitalized, relieved of duty and given an open-ended prescription of Haldol. Which could induce even stronger and more intense hallucinations than he had supposedly suffered from to begin with, what did it all mean?
What condition was his friend in? He had intended on looking for more information regarding the drawings and such, but now his attention and focus were turned to finding out more about Joe and what had happened to him. Did Joe just lose it, or was there another answer???
Never before had he been quite so pleased in his position as chief intelligence officer at the facility. It gave him the ability to move around more freely than others and it also enabled him to run a covert investigation with less chance of it being uncovered. His next move would have to be to find Joe. According to the records he had obtained, Joe had last been living in the area of Sedona, Arizona. This would be where he would go next.
Heading back to his quarters he was glad that it was time to do another inspection at Luke Air Force Base, outside Phoenix, Arizona. It would be a great opportunity to see Margie, with her flowing red hair and emerald green eyes. She was something special in his life.
Of course, as always they would be unaware of what was really going on, this time more than ever. He figured from the hubbub of Phoenix he could easily slip away, rent a car and make the two hours trip to Sedona and look for Joe. With any kind of luck Joe would still reside at the same address as given in his files. If not, at least he could pick up his trail there.
Before he had left the library he had picked up more books detailing past civilizations, cave writings, hieroglyph's and the like and as he entered the main compound he couldn't resist the temptation to stop by the Alien's quarters. He was in luck, no one was observing and it was close enough to lunch time to assume nobody would be for at least an hour or so.
So, on impulse he entered the room. Setting the books down on the table, the investigator then choose one of them and began leafing his way through it in front of the caregiver. Suddenly the caregiver dropped his hand between the pages to stop him as he smiled broadly. The caregiver then tried to take the book from him. He allowed the book to be taken and the caregiver walked over to the bed where the Alien laid quietly. Suddenly, the Alien's eyes had a spark of recognition. Then it happened again that warm friendly feeling flooded over the investigator. Watching the caregiver as he leafed through the pages of the book, it appeared that he was showing them to the Alien? Even more intriguing the Alien could be seen lifting his hand in some sort of recognition. There must have been a dozen or more times that this was done. When they completed the first book another was given to the caregiver and again there was recognition. The last book, had on its cover, a recently discovered area in Peru that was called the Nazca lines area. The cover of the book was an aerial shot of those lines in South America. When the book was lifted into the view of the Alien, both the caregiver and the investigator threw their hands to their temples. In immediate disorientation.
The investigator lacked any way of knowing what the caregiver was experiencing, but he felt as though he were in a centrifuge trying to look down at the Nazca lines. The harder he tried to understand what he was experiencing the more confused he became, until out of frustration he grabbed the book away.
Then fighting to regain his sense of balance and perception he staggered toward the door. When he closed it behind him he had almost recovered his sense of balance. How thankful he was, that there was no one in the observation room to witness what had just occurred. But what had occurred, he didn't know, but, he realized he had better find out.
Taking the books back to his quarters, he put them away. Putting them out of view so that no one who might enter his quarters would stumble upon them. It was becoming clear to him with every move he made that there was something happening beyond his comprehension. He began to realize that he clearly had no choice, but to get to the bottom of it, before it got him.
Feeling this urgency, he set about putting the wheels in motion, so that the next day he could leave for his inspection of Luke Air Force Base. He filed his report for the week and then typed a memo to Headquarters of his impending inspection of Luke and sent it off via telex. He then called Base Operations and arranged for a T-33 jet to transport him to Luke AFB at 0600 hours the next day.
Before trying to get a nights rest he decided to pack up the books and the photos of the files and take them with him. Better with him, than left for someone to stumble upon. Sleep he would find, was nearly impossible, for he knew that he was about to cross the line beyond which his entire career was in jeopardy and from which there was no return.
He had been in military security for almost twenty years and often he had done things that rubbed his grain the wrong way. Some had even been against his moral character. He had done these things because he had been convinced it was for the good of the country. That was how they had convinced him to originally work on this project. The orders had come down that there was to be no confirmation of the existence of any space craft or Aliens, let alone a living Alien in their control. The reason given had been simple, to avoid public panic and for National Security. He was beginning to tire of the phrase, for National Security. After all, he mused, if there were two ships and at least four beings then there must be more. And, if there are more what is their purpose? Where did they come from? Why are they here? These were the questions that kept him awake through the long night.
By Cherie J. Gierak
The alarm jarred him awake, he smiled to himself, wouldn't you know it, finally fell asleep and it's time to get up. Well that's okay, I've got to get to the bottom of this. A quick shower, a double check of his suitcase to make sure his civvies and uniform were properly packed. A few details and then he jumped into his flight coveralls and proceeded to the mess hall for breakfast. Sitting there staring at his eggs and ham his stomach kept telling him it was to damn early to be eating. His head however was in control and he knew that with his plans for the day there would be little opportunity to stop and eat. So he sat there pushing his food around the plate and trying to convince his stomach that his head knew what was best.
He happened to look up just in time to see his pilot with a tray in hand, the pilot remarked,"Good morning Colonel, may I join you for breakfast or would you prefer to be alone?"
"Certainly, join me, and please let's drop the formality, I'm Paul, and if memory serves me your John, correct?"
"That's right sir, I mean Paul. Of course this informality will hold only while we are alone, is that correct?" John queried.
"Yes John, we can't forget we are in the military, and rank doth have its privileges," was Paul's reply.
"So Paul, what's this, another of your infamous surprise attacks, I mean inspections?" John asked.
"Yeah John, just another surprise inspection, so you know the procedure no radio traffic indicating who your passenger or intent of flight relates to." Paul responded.
"Yes sir," John said.
"We're alone now, no need for the formality of the Sir," Paul quipped.
"Okay Paul, you've got it," John smiled.
After they finished their breakfast they meandered over to the motor pool to get a car to take them to the surface and the little piper cub that would take them to Holloman and their jet. Reaching Holloman John went directly to flight operations to pick up their flight plan. Then they both boarded the aircraft and taxied out to the end of the runway in preparation for take off. John, being sort of hot shot, engaged full throttle for a spectacular takeoff, much to the chagrin of Paul who could never quite get used to jet capabilities.
Their flight was short, but it gave Paul the opportunity to think over his plan. He would climb off the plane more than ever convinced that he had to find Joe and as many others who had ended up in Joe's position as possible. If memory served him right there were at least two others who had presumably gone mad and had left the facility. Hell he thought that's more than one every six months! Something was very wrong with that. Three mentally stable men don't just all go mad in the course of little over a year and a half! Damn, he wished he had paid more attention to what had been going on in the early months? But, then he remembered security had been so tight that even he had not been aware of the presence of the Alien until at least two of the men had left the base. He had been told that all they had, were parts of a possible UFO for over six months. That's what he believed it was until his superior officer started acting strange and talking even stranger that he had been let in on the secret. It was when his superior had suddenly retired that he had been elevated into his present rank and had been let in on the whole secret. Even then he wasn't told that the Alien was alive for several weeks. That had come about when another of the soon to be RETIRED men had cracked and ran amok through the main facility. When he found the guy, he was rambling about hearing voices and seeing pictures.
When he was turned over to the Doctors he had told Paul "He's alive and he wants to go home."
Paul had asked him, "Who's alive and wants to go home?"
"The Alien, the Alien," the guy had screamed at him.
Because of this encounter Paul was now included in the small circle of people who were not only aware of the Alien but had direct contact with him. Paul's initial response to all this had been excitement and curiosity. As a boy he had fantasized about Martians and Aliens and traveling to strange new worlds but now, right here was a real living extraterrestrial!
He looked on the whole thing as an adventure and wanted to know all he could about the Alien. But there wasn't much to find out. He had spent hours in the observation room and there had been almost nothing to see.
In the first few weeks he had seen the Alien moving about his room, however he seemed in constant distress. Then as the weeks passed into months he did less and less moving, in fact the last several weeks Paul hadn't seen him out of bed even once. In fact it now seemed that even moving a limb took extreme effort for the creature. It was becoming clear the Alien was dying, but no one knew why or what they might do to help him. That had been when they had found the caretaker to look after him.
Sitting there in the plane he was more convinced than ever that there was a lot more to this whole thing. More he needed to know because if he was right he could be the next one to go mad and be RETIRED. Whatever doubts he might have had were now nonexistent, he now felt that his life may be on the line.
His inspection of Luke went off without a hitch and he was able to find just enough wrong to warrant his staying a few days to oversee their correction. This had been the pivotal point in his trip. He had to find things wrong so that he could have the time he would need to make the trip to Sedona. Also, raising hell at Luke and finding regulation violations made it easier for him to move around without question. Everyone was scurrying around trying to cover their own butts and were not much concerned about his comings and goings.
All they wanted was to get on his good side and get a clean inspection rating. He had given them three days to GET THEIR ACT TOGETHER. What he had really done was to give himself an excuse to be away from his base for three extra days. He would have to use this time to find Joe.
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