Alien Agenda: Why They Came, Why They Stayed Read online

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: Huntsville, Alabama

  Before they circled the gas station a second time, they saw the Suburban and fell in line behind it. In less than a mile they pulled into a large warehouse complex’s loading docks. A white-haired, red-faced man with bushy eyebrows left the Suburban, shot them a quick glance and waved then went to a security keypad and entered a code. A ground-level loading-dock door rose. The man reentered the Suburban and drove inside.

  Mr. Blue followed.

  The warehouse, which Jim thought might be close to half a million square feet, was nearly empty.

  The blustery-faced man turned on a bank of overhead lights and walked over to the Mercedes’s driver’s door. As Mr. Blue exited, the white-haired man held out his hand in greeting. Blue took it without a word.

  The man smiled as he exchanged greetings with Sister Fran and Melanie.

  When he and Jim shook hands, their eyes locked, and Jim thought there was something familiar about the man.

  “Well, you all must be very tired,” White Hair said. “We have an hour before we leave here. Follow me and I’ll take you to the showers where you can get cleaned up and refreshed.”

  He disappeared through a set of double, swinging doors and the rest followed.

  The showers were of the industrial type for warehouse workers. Jim Sees and Mr. Blue showered without speaking. In the locker room, stacked on benches, were new clothes: camouflaged jumpsuits of the deer-hunter variety, and packages of new underwear and socks.

  “Nice,” Mr. Blue said reading the size label in the jumpsuit in one of the stacks.

  “A little too close to prison, if you ask me,” Jim said, eyeing the clothing.

  Jim finished dressing first and went out of the men’s locker room then back through the double doors.

  White Hair extended an unopened bottle of ice-cold water, saying, “Sorry, I was so excited I forgot to offer this to you before. I have some soft drinks if you would rather.”

  Jim nodded and said, “Thanks, this is great.” Jim could not help noticing how familiar White Hair looked. He couldn’t help himself. “I think I’ve seen you before. I just can’t…”

  White Hair went from cordial to all business in an instant. “Better not go there, son. Maybe when this is all over we can belly up to a bar somewhere and give each other knowing winks about how we pulled the wool over the government’s eyes and fucked it up the ass. For now, the less we know….”

  “The better.” Jim cut him off by taking a long drink, the icy water cleansing and refreshing his throat. “Are we waiting on a call from Mr. Big?” Jim asked, emphasizing the last two words.

  “Yes… we are waiting on a call, but not from whoever you think Mr. Big is.” White Hair gave Jim a slightly disapproving look.

  Jim thought White Hair did not look like the kind of guy he wanted disapproving of him, so he thought it best for him to shut up so long as his anxiety and fear were showing in his speech.

  Mr. Blue came through the doors and was handed a bottle of water. A few minutes later the girls came out wearing their own jumpsuits.

  No one wanted to talk. Each person was lost in his or her own wonderings and fears. Just as it was becoming obviously uncomfortable, a phone rang.

  White Hair pulled it from his shirt pocket and said, “Ready?” He paused for a second, then said, “Be there in ten minutes.”

  He turned to the others and motioned toward his Suburban. “If you will, we have to be somewhere soon.”

  They loaded up in the car and pulled out of the door. Once the door was down and locked, White Hair drove the big vehicle deftly as a sports car.

  Jim watched from the backseat, trying to remember street names so he could find his way back to the Mercedes if he needed. After a few minutes they turned left and drove into the Madison County Executive Airport. White Hair drove up to a guardhouse next to a twelve-foot-wide gate in a sturdy, steel fence. He lowered the window and winked at the guard, who pressed a button and the gate began to retract along the fence.

  White Hair passed through and stopped the car twenty yards away from a Falcon 900 private jet.

  “Here we are, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s go,” White Hair said, exiting the car and beginning a conversation with a pilot who had come to the car.

  Jim Sees wasn’t sure of anything anymore. His visions of doom and imprisonment for life in a mudhole in Guantanamo Bay had eroded any confidence he had about this misadventure. He didn’t know much about the Falcon 900 other than it was built by a French company and could cruise at nearly six hundred miles per hour for four or five thousand miles without refueling. This one had two additional fuel pods tucked under its wings that could add a couple of thousand more miles. If he stepped on that plane, he could be anywhere when it landed.

  “I’m not going,” Jim said flatly. “This is it for me. I did not sign on to become an international fugitive.”

  White Hair gave him that disapproving look again, only this time without the courtesy of reservation. He told the pilot to prepare the plane for takeoff immediately and turned back to Jim. “If you stay here, son, there’s a good chance you will be arrested and spend the rest of your life in federal prison for some trumped-up crime you didn’t commit. Your jailers will be instructed to make sure your charming fellow inmates will take turns fucking you up the ass until you bleed to death.”

  White Hair stared steadily at Jim. Seeing he was making no headway, he went on. “I’m not a patient man. You’ve seen only my good side. I have my instructions and I’m going to make sure they are followed. Do you understand?”

  Jim unconsciously took a half step back. It pissed him off to be spoken to this way. Then suddenly, like a flash from the blue, something about White Hair’s angry, threatening expression triggered his memory and he knew who White Hair was. He started to say his name, then thought better of it. Instead he said, in as cool a voice as he could muster, “I appreciate your candor, but I am not getting on that plane.”

  White Hair seemed to swell up, his face glowing bright red, anger seething.

  Mr. Blue said, “Now everyone just calm down a moment,” as he walked casually over to Jim.

  He leaned close to Jim and said very softly, “Mr.Braveheart, I understand your concern. I’ve even had some of the same thoughts and doubts you have, but there is no turning back from this until it is finished.”

  Jim kept his eyes on White Hair, who now had a hand in his jacket pocket, fingering a gun no doubt. “Mr. Blue,” Jim spoke as softly as he had been spoken too, “we don’t know where this plane is going, and once we are on it we lose all control. I’m not going.”

  Mr. Blue touched his elbow, almost gently and whispered, “I don’t know you and you don’t know me. You’ve been okay so far and I don’t want to give you a reason not to like me, but you can either get on that plane on your own, right now, or you will wake up on that plane and hate me for the rest of your life. It’s your choice.”

  Jim looked in the bigger man’s eyes. There was no malice, no enjoyment, only resolve.

  “Okay,” Jim said, and started toward the plane.

  Inside he took the seat closest to the door and cockpit. The others filed past him, including White Hair himself.

  The copilot closed and sealed the door and took his seat as the plane began accelerating down the five-thousand-foot runway. In no time, they were airborne and the plane was climbing fast.

  When the plane leveled out, the copilot reappeared and showed them the bathroom and the galley with a small refrigerator stocked with drinks, snacks, and sandwiches. He then explained how to use the video screens and keyboards that popped up from the chairs’ arms.

  After the copilot returned to the cockpit, White Hair rose and went to the galley area and stood only a few inches from Jim.

  “Well, get cozy everyone. Next stop, Columbia. That’s about seven or eight hours of togetherness.” He glanced at Jim as he continued, “Our ‘travel advisor’ has provided travelling documents
and cash for each of us, which will be distributed before we leave the plane. So sit back and enjoy the flight.”

  White Hair leaned down and said to Jim, “I am glad you came.”

  A very unhappy Jim raised his eyes in defiance of one of America’s richest and most ruthless men. He wondered what 1947-07 had done to enlist the help of Charles Merit, a.k.a., Mr. White Hair.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  There is a neurological condition with a broad range of symptoms, ranging from minimal levels allowing near-normal functionality to those who are essentially mental cripples, unable to function in society. The falling dominoes spelled autism.

  It is first seen in children around two or three-years old. It is quite possible for a two year old to speak beautifully then, over the next four months, lose it all. The child may be left unable to learn, think, communicate, and interact with other humans.

  Those on the lower end of the syndrome do not suffer to this extent, but live with various degrees of learning disabilities. The worst cases sink into an abyss of disability, unable to speak or function, and trapped in repetitive, seemingly pointless movements.

  Autism was identified in the 1940s. Early studies indicated it was a rare disorder among children. Studies conducted between 1947 and 1950 estimated that 1:10,000 suffered from autism. These cases probably included only extremes.

  During the 1960s and 1970s, additional studies held steady at about 2:10,000 of the population, up a little from 1950, but not drastically. The occurrence of autism appeared to be on a slight upward trend, but no one showed concern until 2007.

  The CDC began broad-based studies of autism in 1996 and found that about 7:10,000 people were autistic (still less than one per thousand). Between 1996 and 2007, the number grew from .07 to 5.5 per thousand—in other words, in 1996 less than one child per 1000 had autism. By 2007 one out of 185 was autistic. Between 2007 and 2010 the number rose to 1 person out of every 150.

  So how did we go from 1:10,000 in 1950 to 1:150 today?

  In 1990, the new Individuals with Disabilities Act added autistic children to its list of people served under the educational provisions of the law. This alone is enough to create a huge swell in the number of kids diagnosed and receiving benefits in the form of special schooling. Additionally, the symptoms included in autism expanded, including many people before who were otherwise classified as disabled.

  Another theory that sent parents running to attorneys was that the MMR (Measles, Mumps, and Rubella) vaccination caused autism. The study that ‘proved’ this turned out to be impossible to duplicate, which in the scientific world usually spells s-c-a-m. Which it was. A prominent researcher in the UK, David Wakefield, perpetrated the fraud to maintain and increase grant money from the UK National Legal Fund administered by Richard Barr, a prominent class-action-suit specialist. The test subjects were eventually revealed to be children of Barr’s clients between the ages of 2 and 9 years old, some of which did not even have autism. The plan was to reap billions from the companies that manufactured the vaccine.

  The CDC put all their numbers in their giant computer and came to the following conclusions:

  The changes to the Americans with Disabilities Act in 1990 increased the number of cases.

  The high level of awareness about autism today compared to before 1990 stimulates more parents to have their children examined for autism.

  Broadening the symptoms placed under the autism umbrellas, which allowed people who before were diagnosed with mental retardation, Asperger’s, and other syndromes to be included in the autistic spectrum increased counts.

  Accounting for all of the above, the CDC concluded the autism epidemic is real. The total new cases represented by the reasons above might, if given the most liberal translation, account for 30 percent of the increase. The other 70 percent of the increase remains a complete mystery. Well, not a mystery to the people who keep it covered.

  The Roswell illuminati know the increase in autism is directly related to the number of abductions. Today the increase in autism will continue even without increasing the number of abductions. The HCU has achieved critical mass. Enough peas are planted.

  So, what causes autism? More importantly, why would anyone want to increase the population of a planet with people who could not function in society?

  What causes autism? No one really knows. The brain is the most complicated thing so far encountered. We are only now obtaining a basic understanding of how it functions. There are solid theories about what creates an autistic brain and how the HCU can poke around and increase the frequency, so let’s address what we know.

  Mild to severe autistics generally possess some or all of the following conditions:

  Repetitive movement such as hand flapping, making sounds, head rolling, or body rocking.

  Compulsive behavior is intended and appears to follow rules, such as arranging objects in stacks or lines.

  Sameness, which means resistance to change: for example, insisting that the furniture not be moved, or refusing to be interrupted.

  Ritualistic behavior involves an unvarying pattern of daily activities, such as an unchanging menu or a dressing ritual. This is closely associated with sameness, and an independent validation has suggested combining the two factors.

  Restricted behavior that is limited in focus, interest, or activity, such as preoccupation with a single television program, toy, or game.

  Self-injury includes movements that injure or can injure the person, such as eye poking, skin picking, hand biting, and head banging. A 2007 study reported that self-injury at some point affected about 30 percent of children with ASD.

  No single repetitive behavior seems to be specific to autism, but only autism appears to have an elevated pattern of occurrence and severity of these behaviors.

  Autistics are simply wired differently. Their brains are physically different from those of the general population.

  What we don’t know about autism will eventually fill many books. What we do know about the autistic brain is:

  At a certain point in post-natal development, autistic brains are larger.

  Testosterone is linked to autism.

  Certain portions of the brain, such as the amygdala, may be enlarged in autistic brains.

  Certain parts of the brain may function differently in autistic people.

  “Mini-columns” (small structures within the cortex) in the brain may be formed differently and be more numerous in autistic brains. (This results in autistic brains having less ability to block sensory input.)

  The entire brain may function differently in autistic people.

  Some autistic brains show clear signs of inflammation, suggesting the disease is associated with activation of the immune system. These findings reinforce the idea that immune response in the brain is involved in autism. It is not clear if the inflammation is a consequence of disease, or a cause of it, or both.

  In many autistic people, the brain develops too quickly beginning at about 12 months. By age ten, their brains as a whole are at a normal size, but “wired” atypically.

  While people with autism are handicapped in social and communication skills because of the brain’s different wiring, they are likely to have other enhanced abilities. One such example is an ability to use visual stimulation and the right side of the brain to compensate for verbal skills. For example, autistic kids generally find “Waldo” much faster than control children. Often, as the test progresses, the control children are unable to find “Waldo” at all while the autistics continue to locate the cartoon character.

  The evidence in the 1970s and 80s indicated genetics had little to do with autism. Between then and now something changed—drastically. Between 10-15 percent of autism cases now have an identifiable Mendelian (single-gene) condition, chromosome abnormality, or is associated with numerous genetic disorders.

  So, back to the question: why would aliens annually abduct tens of thousands of people (in the US alone—probably hundreds of thousand
s worldwide) with the goal of engineering the births of autistic children?

  They aren’t. That would be silly, unless they could receive something of value from the autistic population. So what could be mined from a planet full of autistic people?

  We already know autistic brains are wired differently. We also know specific areas of the brain are enlarged and more active than normal brain counterparts. Their ability to block input (sights, sounds, odors, etc.) is diminished. We also know the oversized areas of the autistic brain function faster than their counterparts in the normal brain. If brains were made by HP, the normal brain would have a 2.10 gigahertz processor and the autistic brain would have a 3.76 processor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Can you spell savant?

  Savants’ brains have superpowers. The powers differ from one to the next but they almost always involve one or more of the following:

  Photographic memory

  Counting

  Match

  Repetition of pattern

  Total Recall

  Perfect Pitch

  Exactness of memories

  See all details but often not the whole (facial recognition)

  All of these people are extraordinarily special. They are also extremely rare. Below is a list of the top 10.

  Kim Peek

  Leslie Lemke

  Alonzo Clemons

  Gottfried Mind

  Gilles Tréhin

  Jedediah Buxton

  Orlando Serrell

  Stephen Wiltshire

  Ellen Boudreaux

  Daniel Tammet

  These are the most famous in a current world population of approximately 50 gifted savants.

  Kim Peek died in 2010. He was the inspiration for the character Raymond in the movie Rainman.

  Orlando Serrell is interesting because he was not born a savant. He was hit in the head while playing baseball.

  Probably the most interesting is Daniel Tammet. So far, he is the only savant with the cognitive ability to tell us what he sees in his mind and how he does his amazing mental feats. For example: he became famous by carrying out Pi to 22,514 decimal places—in his head. He also decided to learn to speak Icelandic, a terribly difficult language. He moved to a cabin in Iceland. Three weeks later he was fluent.