that the costs they rubber-stamped was what it really cost? You’re way too intelligent to believe that. The real development and management cost of projects of this magnitude are in black budgets hidden well away from the eyes of civil servants. If they were published, they’d never be approved, and we’d end up a second-rate power and vulnerable from all sides with the consequent knock on effect to our economy.”
The admiral stopped to light a cigarette. Chester noticed, most unusually, that no one objected. “Of course,” the admiral continued as he took a long drag, “we’re also putting vast resources into a cure for cancer.” There were a few discrete chuckles from around the table.
The Air Force general took up the reins. “It’s the same with threats. You probably think it’s mainly militant Muslims, Columbian drug cartels, Iran, North Korea or the Russian Mafia that pose us the biggest danger. Believe me, there are far greater threats to our security that we have to manage and cope with on an ongoing basis. We have to do this in secrecy so as not to cause alarm, and give the illusion of safety so that people can go about their business in blissful ignorance.”
Unable to keep silent any longer the Colonel spoke. “If I accept, for the sake of argument, and I mean for the sake of argument, you’re not a bunch of intellectual power-crazed egotists, why are you telling me all this? I’m a test pilot, not a politician.”
“Indeed you are Colonel, and you’re a professional,” interjected one of the civilians, “as are we, and we’d like your help. What do you know about Project Aurora?”
Taken aback yet again, Chester thought for a moment, then replied carefully, “rumours mainly. I’ve heard that it doesn’t exist.”
“You are correct,” agreed the suit. “It doesn’t exist officially. Unofficially it very much exists, and to date twenty-five plus billion dollars has been quietly invested in it and many billions will follow. This vehicle can fly higher and faster than anything even in the imaginations of design engineers in the aviation industry. When the programme is complete the machine will be capable of a performance envelope that edges into science fiction. It will be the ultimate reconnaissance vehicle. We’d like you to work on it. You’d be based at Groom Lake Air Force Base.”
He let the comment hang in the air. He had the Colonel hooked, and everyone in the room knew it. They didn’t make mistakes. Groom Lake was regarded in almost mystical reverence in the flying community. Shrouded in mystery and the source of the most outlandish rumours, Chester would have given almost anything just to have a peek over the fence. Even its official call sign was intriguing: Dreamland.
The admiral stubbed out his cigarette. “Yes, Groom Lake, or as our little fraternity refer to it, Area 51 . Sadly, due to the goddamn internet and the fucking X-files so does just about every member of the public.” Once again a low chuckle reverberated around the room. “And no, despite the supermarkets tabloid’s hysterical assertions,” he continued, “it’s not a facility for retro engineering downed UFO technology, nor are there alien corpses there, and we most certainly aren’t in league with extra terrestrials to abduct human specimens so that they can have probes stuffed up their asses. Though if I were able to arrange it I can think of a certain senator that I’d like to put on the list.”
Three days later, after a particularly unpleasantly rigorous medical, Chester found himself in front of his new commanding officer. The CO, a hoary old veteran with hawk’s blood in his veins, bade him welcome. A plaque on his desk displayed a cartoon picture of a round eyed alien with a red cross through it. Underneath the illustration were the words ‘If you think you’ve seen an extra terrestrial….YOU AINT! And that’s an order’.
Chester retuned the Co’s handshake and picked up the
The admiral stopped to light a cigarette. Chester noticed, most unusually, that no one objected. “Of course,” the admiral continued as he took a long drag, “we’re also putting vast resources into a cure for cancer.” There were a few discrete chuckles from around the table.
The Air Force general took up the reins. “It’s the same with threats. You probably think it’s mainly militant Muslims, Columbian drug cartels, Iran, North Korea or the Russian Mafia that pose us the biggest danger. Believe me, there are far greater threats to our security that we have to manage and cope with on an ongoing basis. We have to do this in secrecy so as not to cause alarm, and give the illusion of safety so that people can go about their business in blissful ignorance.”
Unable to keep silent any longer the Colonel spoke. “If I accept, for the sake of argument, and I mean for the sake of argument, you’re not a bunch of intellectual power-crazed egotists, why are you telling me all this? I’m a test pilot, not a politician.”
“Indeed you are Colonel, and you’re a professional,” interjected one of the civilians, “as are we, and we’d like your help. What do you know about Project Aurora?”
Taken aback yet again, Chester thought for a moment, then replied carefully, “rumours mainly. I’ve heard that it doesn’t exist.”
“You are correct,” agreed the suit. “It doesn’t exist officially. Unofficially it very much exists, and to date twenty-five plus billion dollars has been quietly invested in it and many billions will follow. This vehicle can fly higher and faster than anything even in the imaginations of design engineers in the aviation industry. When the programme is complete the machine will be capable of a performance envelope that edges into science fiction. It will be the ultimate reconnaissance vehicle. We’d like you to work on it. You’d be based at Groom Lake Air Force Base.”
He let the comment hang in the air. He had the Colonel hooked, and everyone in the room knew it. They didn’t make mistakes. Groom Lake was regarded in almost mystical reverence in the flying community. Shrouded in mystery and the source of the most outlandish rumours, Chester would have given almost anything just to have a peek over the fence. Even its official call sign was intriguing: Dreamland.
The admiral stubbed out his cigarette. “Yes, Groom Lake, or as our little fraternity refer to it, Area 51 . Sadly, due to the goddamn internet and the fucking X-files so does just about every member of the public.” Once again a low chuckle reverberated around the room. “And no, despite the supermarkets tabloid’s hysterical assertions,” he continued, “it’s not a facility for retro engineering downed UFO technology, nor are there alien corpses there, and we most certainly aren’t in league with extra terrestrials to abduct human specimens so that they can have probes stuffed up their asses. Though if I were able to arrange it I can think of a certain senator that I’d like to put on the list.”
Three days later, after a particularly unpleasantly rigorous medical, Chester found himself in front of his new commanding officer. The CO, a hoary old veteran with hawk’s blood in his veins, bade him welcome. A plaque on his desk displayed a cartoon picture of a round eyed alien with a red cross through it. Underneath the illustration were the words ‘If you think you’ve seen an extra terrestrial….YOU AINT! And that’s an order’.
Chester retuned the Co’s handshake and picked up the
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