Pre-release excerpt from More than Human: The Mensa Contagion…
[Note from Steve: This sci-fi novel is a stand-alone epic about an ET virus and its effects on human society and its space exploration. It will be released soon. Maybe this excerpt will brighten your tax day?]
Groom Lake, Nevada
Chief Master Sgt. Bob Sanchez studied his monitors and laughed. “You have to see some of these signs, Lucy.”
Senior Master Sgt. Lucy Chang was studying high-res satellite images taken of the base. The UFO fanatics’ signs were often creative. Sometimes that was the only way base security could determine when they were planning some shenanigans. She stopped, walked over, and joined Sanchez, looking over his shoulder at his screens.
He glanced up and smiled. Among their colleagues, it was no secret they were sleeping together. Their commanding officers wouldn’t approve, of course, but everyone collaborated in keeping their secret. It was a code of honor followed by everyone working at the top secret base; it existed because life was hard enough in the desert without the added stresses associated with liking someone and not being able to do anything about it.
Still, she didn’t like relationships started at work, never had, but there weren’t many alternatives at the base. Sanchez was a nice guy, but she didn’t know if he was husband material. Until she figured that out, she was OK with the present situation—two consenting adults having a bit of fun. Nobody’s business, and everyone looked the other way.
“They’re entertaining, I’ll give them that. Even the drawings. That one even looks like Major Moore. I like that sign saying, ‘We’re all going to become zombies!’ No wonder they wear Grateful Dead T-shirts.” She laughed and looked at her watch. “We have a new record, I think. The president made his announcement not long ago. Where’s Guinness when you need him?”
Sanchez pointed at another sign. “That’s why.” The sign said, “Aliens Have Taken over the White House!” “How do you know what’s on the T-shirts? They’re all sweaty and dirty. I can’t imagine why, though. It’s only 105 degrees out there, and I have it on good authority these people don’t often bathe.”
“Not surprising with the lack of water. This desert bakes anyone. It’s so dry we’d both turn into Egyptian mummies even without embalming fluid.” Her hair brushed against his cheek. “They’ve all become desert rats. I’m from Seattle, but I’m becoming one too. What we won’t do for a job.”
Chang reached over and jiggled his mouse. Sanchez saw her frown.
“What’s up? Did you see something?”
“While we’ve been talking, the crowd has been growing. It’s doubled in size at least. See the buses?”
Sanchez reached for his radio mike. “Perimeter security. Red alert. You might need reinforcements too. I’m calling it in.” He switched channels and rang the barracks where the security staff members relaxed when not on patrol. “This is a red alert. Move to the main gate. On the double. Code 5.”
Code 5 meant a breach was eminent, something military leaders at the top secret Air Force base never wanted. At the very least, it would represent mountains of paperwork and processing of those persons who entered and were arrested.
“Maybe we should also send some backups to Area 51,” said Chang with a laugh.
“I’m not sure that’s something to joke about. Considering the circumstances, that’s where that crowd of crazies might be headed. I’m glad we’re not securing the perimeter in person.” He turned to the room behind him. “Can someone make the damn A/C run cooler?”
***
Rich Little wasn’t a violent man, but he always thought his government was out to get him and his family. Or worse, perform experiments on them by injecting alien disease strains into their bloodstreams. He was more reasonable than his colleagues, though, because he thought some of them just made up stories about their abductions by aliens.
He was the doubting Thomas, secure in his belief about a government cover-up but agnostic about the abduction stories. Yet he was a de facto leader in the little encampment, a mayor of sorts for a town of RVs the government tolerated. They lived on government land, but the fly-boys inside the fence didn’t care as long as they stayed where they were. We might need to change that in a hurry!
Claire and the two kids had headed for Vegas that morning in the old sedan because they needed groceries and one of the kids needed to visit that free medical center in the outskirts, so he was left alone to spend time discussing things with other true believers. Their only thing in common was they were hot.
One older woman, her face weathered by staring at the sun too long, had decided to go topless, her wrinkled old boobs looking like huge figs from Mediterranean climes. No one seemed to mind except him. I’d feel differently if she were thirty years younger.
He wasn’t in such good shape himself. The family eked out a living with his disability check and the few odd jobs he could muster in the area, but his daughter was already calling him a useless old hippy. She was four months pregnant but had no idea who the father was. Talk about useless! Little thought hospital bill and repairs coming due on their old RV would force Claire and him to find steadier jobs in Vegas. He didn’t look forward to that. He was dedicated to their cause.
He wasn’t one of the lucky ones. He’d never been abducted. But he was certain the Air Force had hidden in Area 51 the bodies of ETs taken from crashed UFOs just like the ones who had abducted so many of the people here. He’d listened to their stories. Although some of them seemed like copies of others, it was just too coincidental they were always pretty much the same. Robots or alien MDs with big heads and dreamy eyes buggered the men and violated the women yet insisted their human victims pass on the message they meant no harm. Of course, he didn’t believe their claim. No one else did either. They were planning an invasion of Earth. No, not planning—it’s already here! And Washington is helping them!
He saw a group huddled around a portable TV, approached, and watched the repeat of the president’s message from the night before—the President of the U.S. announced the alien invasion. He didn’t learn anything more from the second showing. The message was clear: The ETs had come in the form of a virus. This made the announcement more believable, although he assumed the big-headed ETs had produced the attacking virus and were waiting in the solar system’s far-out places until all human beings had turned into zombies. They had done all those experiments, after all, so they could design a lethal contagion to attack humanity. But they didn’t experiment on me or Claire. Maybe we’ll be immune!
“We have to go to Area 51!” he said when the rebroadcast of the speech finished. “It’s our only hope. They’ll have a vaccine. You can bet on it. They’ve been developing it for years!”
Most of the crowd nodded their agreement. The consensus started to spread like wildfire. Elsewhere, others were led to the same idea because buses were arriving from Las Vegas. The buses had soon filled with like-minded people willing to travel the 130 kilometers to their campsite.
Little and a few others took charge. A sizeable number of weapons were commandeered—mostly rabbit guns and old souvenir pistols, some even without ammo, but Little had his old Winchester shotgun and brandished it overhead like Fidel Castro making a speech in Havana after his successful revolution. With his beard, old Army hat, and piercing, fanatical eyes, he even looked a bit like Castro. His words whipped the crowd into a frenzy. He felt a surge of adrenalin. Or, is it testosterone? Claire, you’ll be panting with lust tonight!
They started to move toward the perimeter of the Air Force base, a crazed, collective intelligence formed by hundreds of people, Little in the lead, spurring them on.
Security personnel from the base stood on the other side of the fence. They didn’t matter because they only shot their guns into the air. The razor wire atop the fence didn’t matter either. The crowd leveled the fence and overran the guards.
By then the crowd had swollen to over one thousand people. Even with reinforcements, the Air Force security contingent numbered only about thirty.
***
Major Ted Moore was already on the phone to higher-ups when the breakthrough occurred. The monitoring station run by security was far away from the perimeter. The crowd wasn’t headed for them, though.
“They’re all driving or running toward Area 51 like maniacs,” said Sanchez. “That asshole jumped on the hood of that old station wagon! You’d think the old bastard would have a sunstroke. They’re all nuts.”
“That Area’s just a bunch of old hangars,” said Chang. “There’s nothing there!”
Moore knew they were all wondering how many guards had survived the onslaught.
“They don’t know that,” he said. “You heard what that fat guy with the beard yelled. They think we have a vaccine stored in Area 51. I wish. The whole thing makes me nervous. The CDC’s always getting the flu vaccine wrong. I don’t know why Washington thinks they’ll get this vaccine right.” He swallowed. “That’s there; we’re here. I’m calling for reinforcements.”
“They’ll come to their senses when they find there’s nothing in the hangars,” said Sanchez. “Ever since the CIA let the cat out of the bag, we’ve done the secret stuff elsewhere on base. Or, at Los Alamos or Sandia. That’s where we need the buffer zones.”
“But, sir, shouldn’t we arrest the leaders?” said Chang. “They’re responsible for killing or injuring thirty of our people.”
“I know that, damn it! When they come to their senses, I’ll have more security move in and surround them. We have it all on tape. These people will be spending a long time in jail. Don’t worry about that.” He collapsed into a chair. “I hope this same scenario doesn’t play out elsewhere.”
“What about CDC?” said Chang. “They’re in an urban area.”
“I know. Get me National C&C on the com.” That national Command and Control unit was a top secret installation somewhere in Virginia near DC. “Hopefully, they have already deployed the National Guard in Atlanta. If not, they’d better move fast.” Moore gestured to the screen. “All we can do is provide a warning. Damn fanatics!”
***
[Quip #2: “There are more than two peas in my pod,” said Dr. Christine Walker….]
In elibris libertas….
