“Dr. Underhill, aeronautics, Jet Propulsion Laboratory. Our expert at flight.”
“Dr. Cruise, MD.”
Gullick wasted no further time on the people. “I would like to welcome Dr. Duncan to our group for the first time.” He looked down the table at her. “I know you have been given the classified inbriefing papers on the history of the Majic-12 project, so I won’t bore you with that information, but I would like to run through some of the highlights of our operation as it currently stands. “First, everything and anything to do with the project is classified Top Secret, Q Clearance, Level 5. That is the highest classification level possible. Majic-12, which is the official designation for the people around this table, has been in existence for fifty-four years. Not once in all those years have we had a security breach.
“Our primary mission is twofold. First is to master flying the bouncer disks and reverse-engineer their propulsion system.” He flicked a button and an image of nine silvery disks appeared, lined up in a massive hangar. It was hard to tell details from the photo, but five of the disks appeared to be identical to one another, while the other four all differed slightly.
“We have been flying bouncers for thirty-three years and keep double flight crews current on their operation. But we have not had as much success discerning their method of propulsion.” He glanced down the table and arched an eyebrow. “I’m current on that research,” Duncan said.
Gullick nodded. “We are continuing flights of the bouncers to keep the flight crews current and also to continue tests on the propulsion system and their flight characteristics. We have several prototypes of the bouncer engine, but have not yet succeeded in engineering one that functions adequately,” he said, understating the massive problems they had encountered over the years and eager to get past the failures of the past and on to the future.
“Our second purpose — the mothership — is a different story altogether.” An elongated black cigar shape appeared on the screen, again nestled inside a hangar with rock walls. It was impossible to tell the scale of the ship from the photo, but even in the two-dimensional projection it gave the impression of being massive.
“For all these years the mothership has defied our best scientific minds, but we finally believe we have gained enough knowledge of the control system to activate the propulsion system. That is currently our number-one priority in the project. It will—”
“It will be a disaster if we activate the mothership,” Von Seeckt cut in, looking at Duncan. “We have no clue how it operates. Oh, these fools will tell you we understand the control system, but that has nothing to do with the mechanics and the physics of the engine itself. It is like inviting a man into the cockpit of an advanced nuclear bomber and believing that the man can operate the bomber because he can drive his car and the yoke of the bomber is very much like the steering wheel of the car. It is madness.”
Gullick’s left eyebrow twitched but his voice was calm.
“Thank you, Dr. Von Seeckt, but we have been over all that ground already. We will never understand the mothership if we do not attempt to investigate it. That is the method we have used on the bouncers and—”
“And we still don’t understand the bouncers’ propulsion systems!” Von Seeckt threw in.
“But we’re flying the bouncers and using them,” Doctor Ferrell, the physicist, said. “And we are getting closer every day to figuring them out.”
“It is dangerous to play with tools we don’t understand!” Von Seeckt cried out.
“Is this test dangerous?” Duncan asked, calm in contrast to Von Seeckt’s wavering and excited voice.
Gullick looked across the table at her. Just before this meeting he had studied the classified file Kennedy had amassed on her. He knew more about her than she probably remembered about herself. Thirty-seven, twice divorced, a son in private high school back in Washington, a doctorate in medical biology from Stanford, a successful career in business, and now, due to her friendship with the First Lady, a political appointee to perhaps the most sensitive post in the administration. Of course, Gullick knew, the President didn’t fully comprehend the importance of Majic-12. And that was one of the Catch-22’s of the secrecy surrounding the project. Because they couldn’t really tell anyone what was going on, they were often neglected in the big scheme. But there were ways around that and the members of Majic-12 had long ago perfected those ways.
“Ma’am,” Gullick said, reverting to the military form of addressing a woman, “everything is dangerous, but test-flying is probably the most dangerous occupation in the world. I flew experimental aircraft early in my career. Over the course of a year at Edwards Air Force Base, eight of the twelve men in my squadron were killed working out the bugs in a new airframe. And here we are dealing with alien technology. We didn’t design these craft. But we do have an advantage,” Gullick added. “We are dealing with technology that works. The largest danger I faced as a test pilot was getting the technology up to speed so it would work. Here we know these craft fly. It is a matter of figuring out how they fly.”
Gullick turned his chair slightly and pointed at the mothership sitting in its cradle of steel beams. “We are currently slightly over one hundred and thirty hours from the first test flight. But before we attempt that, we simply are going to start it up and see what happens. That is the reason this meeting is scheduled for today: so you can see for yourself in a few hours that there is no danger. To use Dr. Von Seeckt’s analogy — but in the proper perspective — we are simply going to put our man in the pilot’s seat and have him turn the engines on and then off. The craft won’t go anywhere. And our man is not a child. We have the best minds in the country assembled here working on this project.”
Von Seeckt snorted. “We had the best minds back in eighty-nine when—”
“That’s enough, Doctor,” Gullick snapped. “The decision has been made. This is an information briefing, not a decision briefing. At thirteen hundred hours local time to-day the mothership’s engines will be turned on for ten seconds and then immediately turned off. The decision has been made,” he repeated. “Now, shall we move on with the briefing?” It was not a question designed to be answered with anything but assent.
For the next thirty minutes the meeting went as scheduled with no further interruptions. Gullick formally brought it to a close. “Dr. Duncan, if you would like, you might want to take a tour of the hangar and our other facilities and be present when we conduct the test on the mothership.”
“I would like that very much,” she replied, “but first I’d like a moment alone with you.”
“If you would excuse us, gentlemen,” Gullick said. “Designated personnel, please wait outside,” he added.
“There’s quite a bit that I don’t understand,” Lisa Duncan said as soon as the room was clear.
“There’s quite a bit we don’t understand,” General Gullick amended. “The technology we are working with here is overwhelming at times.”
“I’m not talking about the technology,” Duncan said. “I’m talking about the administration of this program.”
“Is there a problem?” Gullick asked, his voice chilling the room.
Duncan was blunt. “Why the secrecy? Why are we hiding all this?”
Gullick relaxed slightly. “Numerous reasons.”
“Please enumerate them,” Duncan said.
Gullick lit a cigar, ignoring the NO SMOKING signs that adorned the walls of the Cube conference room. Government bureaucracy found itself into even the most secret of locations. “This program began during World War II, and that was the reason it was initially classified. Then there was the Cold War and the requirement to keep this technology — what we did understand of it — out of the hands of the Russians. One study by our staff even found a high possibility that if the Russians ever discovered that we had this technology it would upset the balance of power and they might launch a preemptive nuclear strike. I would say that’s a damn good reason to keep this secret.”