He wore a custom-tailored suit of white that bridged the gap between a military uniform and something that might be a fashion rage in the near future. The jacket, which was cut to his waist, featured a double breast with lapels flared on either side looking almost like wings. The slight flare to the legs of his slacks allowed him to wear white boots without having to tuck the pants into them.
Arrigo El-Leichter strode to the dais and mounted it in one easy step. As he took his place behind the podium, the spotlight dimmed and the house lights came up a bit. Track lights on the ceiling illuminated the Galactic Brotherhood banner, and a vent somewhere shunted enough air at it to make it wave slightly.
Arrigo raised his right fist to thump his left breast, then extended it upward and out in a salute mimicked by some members of the audience. "I bring you greetings and best wishes from the Galactic Brotherhood Institute. Those of you who are with us for the first time might not know it, but we were formed three decades ago to help all mankind realize the unity of their creation and to help them attain their rightful place in the galaxy."
Sin felt the room's tension build as uninitiated folks like him began to wonder what they were doing there, but Arrigo drained it off with a smile. "You have probably heard many things about us and our work here—many wild and wondrous and even crazy stories about what we do and who we are." He laughed lightly, and the audience joined in. "Well, I will leave it to you to judge, after this evening, if any of those things are true. All I ask of you, right here and now, is to open your minds, and try to put aside your preconceptions. Don't ask yourself if what I will share with you is true or false, but ask yourself if it could be true, then judge from there what action you should take."
Sin smiled. The man's request sounded reasonable on the surface of it, but Sin saw the logical trap. He knew that if he were to accept as possible what the man said, then act on that possibility, he could be talked into anything. Arrigo was asking him to disable his decision-making faculties, then suggesting he could make a decision based on whatever he had left.
"The story I am going to tell you is going to sound strange and perhaps even disjointed. It is, in fact, far more complex than I am able to present here, and researching every facet of it is the main work of our organization. Rest assured that I would not offer any of these facts to you had not extensive and exhaustive studies been done of them."
The Galbro leader leaned heavily on the edges of the oak podium. "Over 60 years ago, on July 2, 1947, a spacecraft of extraterrestrial origin crashed during a thunderstorm on a farm outside Corona, New Mexico, in the United States. This has popularly been referred to as the 'Roswell Incident,' though it took place nearly 80 miles from that city. From the crash were recovered four EBEs—extraterrestrial biological entities—three of which died in the crash. The fourth remained alive and even recovered from his injuries. His name was Krlll.
"Krlll served as a liaison between the United States government and his people, a space-faring race we know as the 'Grays.' The Grays were, at the time of the crash, involved in a program of human kidnapping and animal mutilation. They managed to hide evidence of this from the United States government and, in return for aid in developing high-technology devices like antigravity spaceships, entered into an alliance with the United States and her allies. They later concluded a similar agreement with the Soviets and, by the time President Kennedy challenged America to put a man on the moon, the Grays, in conjunction with the CIA and KGB, already had an operational moonbase called Luna in place."
Sin frowned. Man's race to the moon had taken place well before his birth, but he'd studied it avidly as he grew up. He'd also read enough about UFOs to recognize the reference to the Corona crash, but all of that had been explained away as a downed weather balloon. This is nuts.
Arrigo went on, keeping his voice low and sincere. "The Grays, to this day, continue their predation on mankind. They steal our people and use them for genetic experiments. Under terms of their agreement with the governments of the world, they built a number of underground bases, and the Grays use them to clone themselves and make hybrid Gray humans. You have heard of them from the few that have escaped. In some places in the United States, these forlorn individuals have become bogeymen, known variously as Gray devils or Gray-man or Grimmands.
"Through the alliance and agreements made in it, the Grays have succeeded in implanting one in 40 humans with tiny devices that, at an appointed time, will react to a signal and turn the afflicted into an army of zombies that will destroy the world as we know it. Those of you who have awakened with blood on your pillow from what you thought was a nocturnal nosebleed could well have been plucked from the safety of your bed and unwittingly turned into an implantee against your will!"
Various members of the audience apparently recognized themselves in Arrigo's description. Several rubbed at their noses, and one man in the back honked loudly as he blew his nose into a white handkerchief. Sin found himself wrinkling his nose unconsciously, then he frowned and exerted conscious control to banish the itching.
"I would be irresponsible, my dear friends, if I were to drop this bombshell on you without having some sort of solution to the problem the Grays pose. As you can imagine, they are not the only ET race in the universe. In fact, within a year of the Roswell Incident, a representative of another intergalactic race, the Noorn, arrived on our world and offered a warning about the Grays. He was ignored and ridiculed, mainly because he claimed to have come from Venus, when he really came from much farther. His name was Valiant Thor, and for years he worked to try to keep us safe from the Grays."
Arrigo looked down and seemed almost profoundly embarrassed for a moment. "Valiant Thor, while working with Dr. Frank E. Stranges, met and married my mother. I am his son, and his mission, after his murder at the hands of the Grays, has fallen to me. We have here, at the Galactic Brotherhood Institute, the equipment necessary to rid you of the Gray influence. We have training that will make you able to resist them and thwart their plans." He paused and smiled gently. "And it has been reported to me that one side effect of our training is an apparent increase in the material well-being of our students."
Arrigo stood up straight and clasped his hands before him humbly. "I know this is an incredible amount of information for you to digest. If you will turn to your left, one of my associates will start a video presentation we have that will show you much of the proof we have brought to light from beneath the shroud of a government cover-up. After that, I will gladly answer questions, then we can adjourn to a more informal setting where we will offer you refreshments."
The lights again went down, and a projection screen descended from the ceiling. Sin turned his chair toward it, and sat back to watch the presentation. It consisted of grainy photograph after grainy photograph of UFOs with complete listings of when and where they were sighted. Pictures of faces on Mars and clips from classic films like ET and Close Encounters of the Third Kind were included, the narrator noting their presentation as "fiction" was part of the Gray disinformation campaign designed to make people think of EBEs as harmless.
The barrage of pictures and short "eyewitness" segments appeared to Sin to be long on circumstantial evidence and twisted logic. He saw some of the thoroughly discredited Billy Meier photographs being touted as genuine, and heard once again the accusation that UFO debunker Philip J. Klass was a CIA agent. Claims of duplicity were made about people long dead, and the narrator asked questions designed to implant doubt in the minds of the viewers, using formulations like "Isn't it curious that . . . ?" or "Could it possibly be coincidence that . . . ?"
Sin found everything woven together in a nice package that connected utterly disparate elements into a web designed to gather everyone in. The shotgun approach to describing phenomena meant that almost everyone in the room would find one "fact" that rang true to them. Because that part of it checked in their mind, they seriously considered the other "facts" and weighed them accordingly.
The result was a
conspiracy matrix that explained everything from natural disasters like the hole in the ozone layer to the assassination of President John Kennedy—allegedly at the hands of one of his own bodyguards. Taken as a whole, the conspiracy could be lifted out, and events would have still functioned the way they did, but the conspiracy made larger, sinister sense out of isolated incidents, it fed into the nascent sense of paranoia triggered in everyone when asked, "What if this is true, but the government doesn't want you to know it?"
Unconvinced, but impressed at Arrigo El-Leichter's ability to manipulate an audience, Sin watched the man return to the podium as the lights came back up, and the screen retracted into the ceiling. He's very good. He offers hope and a promise of power, because he's manufactured the threat precisely so he can prescribe and provide the cure. No wonder Ryuhito would find this seductive, and why his grandfather is worried.
Arrigo smiled at the crowd. "Thank you for letting us show you that very important information. Now, if you wish, I will entertain questions."
Sin concentrated on the man's face as a whole series of people asked him questions. Whether they were banal or probing, Arrigo never lost his smile and never seemed exasperated. He fielded every inquiry with the skill of third baseman playing pepper and managed to personalize each reply, yet added a bit of a message that included the whole audience.
I can't stand this. Sin raised his hand. Arrigo nodded to him, so Sin stood. "Sinclair MacNeal, Mr. El-Leichter. I've heard you say that the Grays control the world's governments in fact and through things like the Trilateral Commission—I believe, actually, that you said the Trilateral Commission took their name from the Gray coat of arms. What I would like to know is that if these people are so powerful and have labored so hard to keep their secret, how are you allowed to continue to exist?"
The edge in Sin's voice and the logic of his question immediately prompted nods from other members of the audience. Arrigo took this in stride and broadened his smile a bit. "Mr. MacNeal, that is an excellent question. What has protected me is the fact that I have gone public. If they were to hit me now, all of you would know that what I have said is the truth. So, instead of doing that, they allow me to speak and they labor to neutralize the people I have trained and those who would help us in our researches."
"Neutralize, sir?" Sin shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't follow that."
"For various reasons, we don't include this information in our video presentation, but the United States government maintains prison camps in Arizona to sequester those who know too much."
Sin made a great show of being surprised. "Mr. El-Leichter, I come from Arizona. There are no prison camps there."
The smile on Arrigo's face shifted from one of amusement to a mask of beneficence. "Don't exist, Mr. MacNeal, or you have never seen them? You would agree there is a difference?"
The jaws of the trap snapped shut on Sin. He bowed his head. "You're right, there is a difference. And, no, I have never seen them."
"The Grays are very crafty, Mr. MacNeal. They do not take chances." Arrigo scratched at his right ear. "In fact, during your last stay in Japan, it is entirely possible that your father's corporation actually worked to construct one of the underground breeding camps south of Casa Grande."
Sin sat slowly and immediately knew his father was more than capable of making a pact with the devil if it meant shareholder dividends in the next quarter. There are plenty of jobs that I don't know about. Build-more could have easily . . . wait a minute.
Sin smiled and nodded his head. El-Leichter had succeeded in finding the "fact" Sin would latch onto. Very smooth. Probably has an earpiece linked to someone at a computer console. That's good, because my placement has got to make me a ripe candidate for recruitment.
"Well, then, if that is an end to the questions, please join us for refreshments in the lobby." Again Arrigo gave the audience a self-effacing smile. "My staff constantly reminds me that we do have certain costs, so some of my books and tapes are available outside, if you wish to learn more. We also have some GBI staffers there to help you with inquiries about our classes. Thank you for coming this evening."
Mild applause broke out, then the audience began to drift out toward the lobby. Sin purposefully hung back, yet provided the perfume man no opening to engage him in conversation. Sin assumed that he, as well as a number of other people in the crowd, were shills pimping for Galbro.
Arrigo El-Leichter strode over to where Sin sat. "I want to thank you for your question, Mr. MacNeal."
Sin laughed lightly. "Thank me? I hardly towed the party line here, Mr. El-Leichter. I would imagine you find doubting Thomases an annoyance."
"Ari, please, and may I call you Sinclair? Thank you." El-Leichter composed his face in a serious expression. "A question like yours shows you have actually been thinking about what you've heard. I could have hundreds of thousands of these people believing me in a second, many because they want to believe in anything. Now those people have as much right to our help as anyone, but they are not the sort of people who can help us."
"I'm not sure I follow you, Ari."
"Simply put, Sinclair, the Galactic Brotherhood can use everyone and welcomes everyone, but we need people who can think and who can lead." He glanced down at his hands, then back up into Sin's eyes. "I know this is a difficult time for you, and I applaud the sense you had in coming to Japan to get away from your divorce with Christina. It means you are capable of change and recognizing and making the difficult choices in life. I'd like to offer you a chance to maximize your potential."
Sin folded his arms across his chest. "You seem to know a great deal about me." Including the divorce factoid that went into my file only two days ago. "Your researchers are very good."
"Coming from a man with your background, I take that as a supreme compliment. Also, with your background, you'd know me to be an utter fool if I did not screen people to learn if they are Gray agents or not."
"Touché, Ari." Sin gave him a genuine smile. "What is this offer?"
Arrigo snapped his fingers, and one of his maroon-jacketed staff members slowly drifted over. "Mr. Handy here will drive you back to your hotel. We have a week-long workshop starting at midnight. I think you will find it very enlightening and rewarding. If you are indeed the sort of man your file makes you out to be, you will avail yourself of this opportunity.''
Sin stood. "How much?"
"Good, very good." Arrigo smiled as he took a step back and gave Sin some room. "Always thinking. This workshop is free. Your accommodations and meals will be provided. All you need to do is pick up a shaving kit and a change of clothes. We will provide uniforms for most of the time you are here—we do that to promote solidarity in our cohorts, as I am certain you understand."
"All right, I'll do it." Sin started to offer the man his hand, but Arrigo had already moved beyond that range.
"Excellent." El-Leichter glanced at the security door through which he had entered the auditorium. "I will go make arrangements. You will find this very rewarding." He placed his hand over the scanner plate. The neon-green light outlined the bones in gangrenous hues, then the door clicked open and El-Leichter waved.
Sin returned the wave, then looked at his guide. "Shall we go, Mr. Handy?"
"Yes, sir." The man smiled and pointed toward the door. "You won't regret this, sir. You'll find this the most interesting week of your life."
Sin slapped him on the back. "Somehow I'm confident you are very, very right."
Rajani kept her finger on the elevator's "Door Open" button as Natch had instructed her. She quickly glanced out at the empty lobby one level below the New Palace Hotel's penthouse suites. "All clear, is that right?"
Natch popped some chewing gum. "Word up. We'll have you being a proper spotter in no time." Natch raked the lockpick in her right hand down while pressing up with the pick in her left. The lock next to the "Penthouse" button shifted slightly to the right, and Natch cursed. "Damn Corbin lock!"
"What does
'Corbin' mean?" After flying to Japan seated next to Natch and spending her first day there with her, she'd gotten a lot of the woman's street argot down, but Corbin was a new term.
Natch smiled gently. "Corbin is a brand name, kid." Natch used the pick in her left hand to probe the lock, "It has mushroom tumblers in 3 and 5."
"Does this mean you cannot 'pop' it?"
"Child, there is no lock I can't pop, Corbin or otherwise." Natch frowned and went back to work on the lock. "Jes have to be really delicate with this one. Need the touch."
The tip of Natch's tongue appeared at the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. Rajani marveled at how Natch was able to focus on her task. Her hands moving with the skill of a surgeon, Natch played the pick down through the middle of the cylinder, then used the tension bar in her left hand to press up. She jiggled the tension bar, then raked the pick through the lock. Rajani heard a click, saw the cylinder twist to the left, and Natch laughed triumphantly.
"Let the door go." Natch hit the "Penthouse" button. "We're on our way."
Fiddleback Trilogy 2 - Evil Ascending Page 18
