THE BRINK - OPERATION DEEP FLIGHT Read online

  She looked at the stunned faces around the room as what she had just reported was being absorbed.

  She continued, “Our VLA system is not designed for such close work. We are set up for deep space exploration so it has not been possible to pinpoint the exact location of the transmissions. What I can tell you is this.”

  She stopped and took a drink from the glass in front of her, “Since our first detection we have logged over twenty-three thousand of these narrow band transmissions. When I say narrow band I mean exactly that. We have no technology that would allow us to send a message through space in such a defined band. I wish we did. Anyway, we are ninety percent certain that it is originating either within the confines of our own solar system or being relayed. That would seem to indicate gentlemen, that we are not alone. Not in space. Possibly not even within our galaxy and maybe our own solar system. How long these transmissions were occurring before we discovered them we have no way of knowing,” she said and sat down.

  Silence like a thick fog rolled through the room as each man tried to comprehend what had just been revealed in that room today. It was mind boggling and almost impossible come to grips with. We have missing submarines and bombers and now the possibility of transmission signals from within our own solar system. Many in the room had always suspected that we were not alone but none of them expected them to be our neighbors.

  “Mr. President I would like to ask an intelligent question but after hearing all of this I don't know if I am capable. This is almost overwhelming,” commented Lance Dupree, the Secretary of Defense.

  “Believe me Lance, I totally understand. This is why I asked them to come and present this information to you first hand. If I had waltzed in here and told you all of this you would have had me hauled away in a white jacket,” the President said, trying to lighten up the conversation a little.

  “We still might,” the Secretary of Defense said, and they all chuckled.

  “I have a question if I may,” Bob Dolan of the CIA said.

  “Shoot,” the President responded.

  “Are we saying that these transmissions are linked to the other incidents?”

  “We cannot be one hundred percent certain but the frequency of the transmissions significantly spikes just before each disappearance according to the timeline we have established,” Dr. Long replied.

  “I’m just doing some calculations. From what was just said I estimate that we are missing a combined three nuclear submarines and four bombers.”

  “That is correct,” the President confirmed.

  “So how many nuclear devices is that?”

  No one spoke. The realization that far too many of the world’s most deadly devices were suddenly unaccounted for had been overlooked in the room thus far.

  At last Admiral Potts spoke up, “We estimate that between the Kentucky, Potempkin and the Petrovich we are looking at 436 possible nuclear devices.”

  “My God!” Vice President Tim Williams shouted out, half rising out of his chair. The level of noise intensified as each tried to talk at the same time.

  Finally it quieted down enough for the President to say, “We have the bombers as well. Our B-52 had six multiple warhead missiles on board. That’s another forty-two and Ambassador?”

  “Each Tu-22c was carrying eight missiles with six MRV’s. That makes forty-eight all together,” he said wiping his brow again.

  “That is enough fire power to destroy half of the world,” the CIA director said.

  “The entire world,” Tom Arnold corrected.

  “Look I don’t want to seem dense here but could someone walk me through this? I mean, could this be a terrorist group or groups? I don’t think I like the other implication,” the Secretary of Defense said after the noise level had died down again.

  “Doctor? Why don’t you go over our discussion from earlier today,” the President suggested.

  “Gentlemen it appears that our planet Earth is receiving signals from some sort of alien life form. They are either originating within our solar system or they have at the very least established a transmission relay link close to us. We have been searching for transmissions in deep space but have not been successful so far. If we could locate the closer source we might be able to backtrack to the original source, if there is one. In a nutshell, like it or not, we have visitors. They are here, investigating, just passing through, or looking for a home. In any case, they appear to be linked to the disappearance of your war toys,” she told them.

  Pandemonium almost broke out among the usually serene group of national leaders. Each one wanted to ask question after question, trying to find a more reasonable and palatable answer. In the end, even the most skeptical could find no other reasonable answer. The President dismissed the other guests but asked Doctor Long to stay behind and continue to discuss the options.

  The Chief of Staff followed the others out and made sure they were debriefed. Even the Ambassador, usually excused from such formalities as debriefing, was included this time.

  The President and the NSC continued to discuss and develop plans long into the afternoon. With the expertise of Dr. Long, they finally worked out a plan to try to locate the destination of the transmissions. Dr. Long was given carte blanch to requisition whatever she needed with no restrictions.

  Secretary of Defense Dupree and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, ‘Iron Mike’ Nelson, were to ensure that she ran into no resistance from the various military elements she might encounter. The CIA was given direct orders to make sure she was assisted in every way possible. Armed with her new authority, she returned to the VLA headquarters to begin one of man’s greatest endeavors.

  CHAPTER SIX

  - VLA Socorro New Mexico –

  Dr. Long immediately set to work on a plan to narrow the possible locations where the transmissions were being directed. Because of the narrow bandwidth she decided to concentrate on the area where they had detected the most transmissions. Within hours her team had settled on an area that formed a rough triangle beginning at the Solomon Islands and heading east to the Philippine Islands. From there it went north to the Bering Sea. It took a bit of persuading to get the military to redeploy the three satellites that were necessary to get a triangulation fix.

  They identified this particular area because following their initial discovery they had recorded over one thousand separate transmissions directed to that general area.

  “So?” Dr. Long said turning to the man listening on the headset.

  “Man they go so fast. That transmission lasted .609 milliseconds. It’s quite difficult to even begin to react before the transmission ends. I have set up the computer to begin capturing the instant a transmission is discovered but even then it’s going to take a certain amount of luck,” he told her scratching his head.

  “Paul. I can’t wait for luck. Getting the military to consent to repositioning the satellites was a major battle. I figure they are going to give us only a few days before they start screaming again,” she told him.

  “We need a longer transmission. I do think we can close the search area some more. I honestly don’t think they are going any farther north than Japan.”

  “Based on what?” the doctor asked, looking over the top of her glasses.

  “Based on the residual bleed off. Look at this signature. See how strong it’s registering toward the center of the area. It drops off to almost nothing. Can we get them to tighten the field any?”

  “Sure, why not. They can kill us but they can’t eat us,” she joked.

  “Are you sure? It is the military after all,” he joked back.

  “Good point,” she conceded.

  Six hours later the three satellites had been repositioned to form a tighter triangle. The transmissions had no set pattern that they could detect. They varied in length and time sent. Sometimes they would come in waves and then go silent for hours. It was slow, tedious work. They continued to monitor the transmissions around the clock but after six days they
were no closer than before.

  As Dr. Long had predicted, the military started clamoring for the release of their satellites. It took the intervention of the Secretary of Defense to get the military back under control. One of the major reasons for discretion regarding the nature of the search was the fear that the military would take too active an interest and start tapping into the data they were trying to collect. It wouldn’t take the military long to discover what they were after. By the second week everyone was getting tense and tempers were starting to show.

  “Whoa! Hang on,” Paul shouted excitedly.

  “Don’t shout. I’m not deaf, or at least not yet,” Dr. Long snapped at him.

  “I’ve got a long one,” he said loudly, paying no attention to what the doctor had just said.

  “How long?” she quickly asked.

  “It’s still going,” he answered excitedly.

  “Have you got a lock?”

  “Getting close.....closer.....Shit! It just ended. Man 1.515 seconds. That’s the longest we have ever monitored. Let me get the printout and see if we can get a fix,” he said, rushing to print out the signal graph.

  It seemed to take forever but soon they were pouring over the piece of paper and studying the topographical map of the target area.

  “Hey, something is wrong. This isn’t the same location as the others at all,” Paul said.

  “The frequency is the same but look at the resolution signature and bleed off,” Dr. Long said.

  “It is definitely west of the Philippine Islands and certainly no further north than Tokyo. What’s in that area?” Paul asked

  “Let’s look,” Susan said, rolling out a huge map of the Pacific Ocean.

  “See how the signature bleeds off? The strongest resolution is around 14 degrees longitude and 145 degrees latitude. Do you know what this means?” she asked, not really expecting an answer, “It means the transmissions are being directed to either a relay station or they are going to something underwater.”

  “How do you now they aren’t going to the Yap Islands?”

  “Look at the resolution. It doesn’t register below 10 degrees of latitude. The Yap Islands fall below that. I’m telling you, it’s going to the Mariana Trench area,” she said studying the map again.

  Paul looked at the signature graph and the map for several more minutes before saying, “I hate to say it boss lady, but when you’re right, you’re right. The Yaps are too far east and south. But what in the hell could be out there to receive a signal?”

  “That’s weird. This transmission didn’t come from the same general area as the others,” Paul said.

  “Hey, that’s not my problem. All we had to do was locate a reasonable search area. This now becomes someone else's headache. Look we have really cut a huge part of the world out of the search area.

  “Still, you have to wonder about the other transmissions. They aren’t even close to this last location,” he said.

  “What the hell does this all mean? Damn it Paul, this may not have a doggone thing to do with anything then,” Dr. Long said, tossing her glasses on the desk.

  “No, the frequency is the same. I double checked, even triple checked. We know the others were sent to some place west of the French Polynesian Islands. Not far from the Tropic of Capricorn.”

  “What in the world is going on here? There is hardly a thing in that area. Once you get past the Polynesian Islands it’s pretty much just small islands and open water,” Dr. Long said.

  “There is the Tonga Trench,” Paul said softly.

  “And the stray one we thought we picked up in the Atlantic,” Dr. Long added.

  “There is that,” Paul agreed.

  “Let’s give it a few more hours and see if we can confirm our hypothesis. We may even get lucky and narrow the area further,” she told him.

  “The Tonga and the Marinas,” Dr. Long said, more to herself than Paul. They agreed they would not say anything until tomorrow.

  If they couldn’t do any better, Dr. Long would notify the NSC of what they had discovered. The night dragged on with only a few transmissions and of no substantial length. When Paul and the doctor arrived the next morning nothing significant had developed to narrow the search area.

  The Doctor called Thomas Arnold, the Secretary of State and informed him that she would have a report for them by this evening. They made arrangements to have her flown to Washington for a meeting with the President and the NSC the next day.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  - WASHINGTON DC -

  Rain was falling steadily as the long black limousine pulled up and a uniformed driver escorted Doctor Long to the waiting car. Thomas Arnold was in the car when she entered.

  “Dr. Long. Nice to see you again. You have been the subject of a great deal of discussion around the White House lately. We are all anxious to hear what you have to tell us,” he said with a charming smile.

  “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I do have some interesting news to share with you but I’m not sure what you will want to do with it once you get it,” she told him.

  “As much as I would like to know what you have discovered I think it best that we wait until we meet with the President.”

  “To be perfectly candid, I wasn’t about to tell you anyway,” she said smiling back.

  “I see,” was all he said and leaned back.

  Nothing else was said until they arrived at the White House and were taken to the President.

  Everyone from the last meeting was already present and seated when the Secretary of State and Doctor Long arrived. They all stood as she entered the room. She blushed slightly. It had been a long time since a room full of men had stood when she entered. She briefly wondered if they would feel like standing when she left.

  “Dr. Long it’s nice to have you back,” the President said, indicating a seat just across from where he was seated.

  “I hope you will still think that when I report my findings,” she said, taking the appointed seat.

  “We have all been waiting with great anticipation. Let’s not waste any more time. Go ahead and tell us what you have discovered,” the President said.

  The others in the room were intently focused on her every move and expression. She felt as if she had forgotten to wear any clothes. She pulled a stack of graphs, printouts, and a large folded map from her worn briefcase.

  “Gentlemen,” she said, unfolding the map, “We have been concentrating our search in the Pacific Ocean, a tad over 165 million square miles; one heck of a large area. As you know, the transmission bandwidth is extremely narrow and the duration very, very short. It is similar to the burst transmissions used by our military, only much more sophisticated. With the generous support afforded us this past week we were able to narrow the search area. A couple of days ago we got lucky and were able to track a very long transmission, at least by burst standards. With the use of triangulation we were able to locate the general destination area,” she told them. The room was dead silent.

  “We believe that the target area is right about here,” she said tapping the map at an area circled in red.

  The President leaned forward, as did almost everyone at the table.

  He studied the area for some minutes before finally saying, “Doctor, I hate to say this but it looks like the area you are suggesting is right in the middle of the ocean.”

  “Well sir, not in the middle, but you are correct. Our data suggest an area approximately 14 degrees north latitude and 145 degrees east. It is definitely in the Mariana Trench region. I have all the data to support it right here,” she said, indicating the pile of papers on the table.

  “Gentlemen?” the President said, looking up from the map.

  An immediate flood of questions was directed at Doctor Long and she took great care in answering each one in turn, using the data she had collected. While there was some skepticism as to the accuracy or interpretation of the material, in the end, most agreed with her hypothesis.

  “T
ell me doctor,” the Secretary of State said, carefully measuring his words, “If you know the target area, does this mean that you can backtrack and determine the source of the transmissions?”

  Doctor Long looked at the Secretary for several seconds before answering, “I cannot say with any degree of certainty that we can pinpoint the transmission source but we have been working on that and have a fairly good guess. I must emphasize that our mission was to locate the target not the point of origin.”

  “Yes, but your natural curiosity surely has led you to draw some scientific conclusions,” he pressed.

  “We have run some preliminary searches but I must point out that even a minute error can lead to quite a distortion of the data leading us to the actual transmission location.”

  “Yes, yes,” the President interjected, “But you do have a guess, do you not?”

  “Yes, Mr. President, we do. Our initial findings suggest that the origination is from or near Saturn.”

  Startled gasps and looks filled the room.

  “Saturn? Our Saturn? In this solar system?” the Chief of Staff stammered.

  “Yes sir. If that is not the actual transmission source, it is likely being used as a relay station. At least that is our belief at present.”

  Stunned silence continued to fill the room. Finally the Vice President said, “Just to be sure I understand you correctly, you are suggesting that a transmission source is being beamed from Saturn?”

  “The Saturn vicinity; most likely one of the moons,” the doctor interrupted.

  “To an unknown source, someplace in the Pacific Ocean, near the Mariana Trench,” he continued.

  “Yes sir. As strange as that seems, that is what we have come up with thus far,” she said looking straight at the Vice President.

  Nothing more was said for a time and finally it was the Vice President who broke eye contact.

  “Well, that is one hell of a story lady,” the Chief of Staff said at last.