Saturday, March 27, 2021

Part 6 :Selected by Extraterrestrials My life in the top secret world of UFOs...Proposed Planetary Missions...Pushing Two Envelopes

Selected by Extraterrestrials 

My life in the top secret world of UFOs.,

 think-tanks and Nordic secretaries 

William Mills Tompkins

CHAPTER 17

PROPOSED PLANETARY MISSIONS

THE STRANGE COMPLACENCY

During the early NASA Atlantic Missile Range (AMR) there was a Saturn program briefing that I attended way before my briefing to NASA. This is when the C-1 Vehicle consisted of only the S-I NASA / Chrysler booster and the Douglas S-IV stage. At a meeting that contractors attended, Dr. Kirk Debus (Director of Launch Operations) expressed his concern about the checkout and launch capabilities of the entire Saturn Program.

Even in Douglas Missile and Space Engineering design of the Apollo S-IV there was a sort of a complacent expectation of we are just glad to be a part of this wonderful Moon Program that the “great thinkers” at that big NASA organization have given us. Look at the DAC APOLLO Engineering Organization Chart nearby. Almost all those other engineering section chiefs were concerned with specific areas of design, not needing to address the entire S-IVB systems; let alone study the Apollo vehicle and the Moon and planet missions, the assembly/checkout and launch - even what facilities were required, and the mission to the Moon.

And what if we have a problem during the mission and need to abort? This would involve systems checkout and launch test equipment that must provide an absolute infallible reliability, unlike any other system ever designed. However, look at our last eight years of the Thor/Delta WS-325 IRBM Missile that produced the Thor/Delta Heavy, the most reliable liquid rocket payload booster in history. The NIKE AJAX and NIKE ZEUS Anti-Missile “Star Wars” systems are some of the most reliable in history. The exception was some of the warhead strikes in Zeus R& D test programs, where NIKE ZEUS missiles were launched from Kwajalein in the South Pacific and launched towards ICBM’s from Vandenberg AFB. In some cases, the ET’s distorted our warhead final targeting.

Companies were being acquired by Douglas Manufacturing, simply because they were different management responsibilities and “It was necessary to wait for engineering specifications.” (At that time Manufacturing ran Douglas). The empire-building within the Douglas organizations was unbelievable. We (Engineering) had that same type of manufacturing problem on the Air Force 315-A Missile and the Army’s Nike Zeus Anti-Missile Programs.

The problem that I was faced with was having nine major companies and fourteen thousand subcontractors on the Apollo program, all with the same internal management and contracting problems. With the magnitude of the quality control functions on what is the most complicated technical effort ever attempted by man on this planet, there was no way it was going to work.

I was convinced that I must take drastic action.

I was fortunate in my space checkout and launch test system design section to have seven PhD’s and 130 top thinking engineers who were willing to implement totally different design concepts that I came up with for the development of the Apollo Program.

As you have read, my method to sell a new concept to management and to the customer is only accomplished after extensive study and exposure to the problem. It is to first define the mission, conceive a method to accomplish it and establish its configuration - then prepare two trade-off studies, systematically select out of the three an approach that is most likely to meet all the mission requirements. Then, lay out the design and prepare specifications and reports that define all considerations. Prepare physical perspective drawings, build three-dimensional scale models and design well-supported drawings with photographic documentation supporting my proposals. I then recommend to engineering management that we go with an unsolicited proposal that I will present to the customer principals, present the proposal package to engineering management and acquire approval.

After extensive studies I did this precisely and created the then now famous Douglas documents, “Purpose” and Report SM-42107.

1 Lost control

During the weekly Apollo rain dance, Elmer Wheaton, VP of Engineering, who normally did not attend these knockdown drag-out meetings, had been pulled in to monitor this week’s battle. He tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hold on a second, Tommie,” he said (“Tommie” was the name he frequently called me). “You’re still responsible for the configuration concepts of the RAND contract.”

I slouched in my swivel chair, closed my eyes, and relived the last panic scene. Oh shit, I thought, what did I forget to follow up on this time?

“Yeah, Elmer,” I agreed, looking him in the eye.

Elmer was a big man, but he leaned over anyway, so as not to be heard by the rest of the staff, who were leaving the conference room. He pushed his thick, gray hair to one side. “Roger Fleming has asked me to flag you down about something in that area. If this turns out to be Majestic, I want to know right away.”

“Okay, Elmer, I’ll nail him today.” I stood up and followed the crowd out of the room. Roger was Operations Manager over all the flight test programs. This would be really interesting, I thought. Roger was a handsome guy who, when shopping in Beverly Hills with his wife and daughter, was often mistaken for Clark Gable.

I caught Clark, I mean Roger, as he was leaving his office. I didn’t know him, but he had heard of my extraterrestrial “hobby.” I rushed over to him and walked along at his pace, thrusting out my hand.

“Hi there, I’m Tompkins,” I said. “I was given the task of asking you a few questions.”

“Yeah,” he said, stopping, “I’ve heard of you. If you can, I’d like it if you could talk to my 19-year old daughter about this alien thing. We’ve discussed the problem with our doctor, but he recommended a psychiatrist. Maybe you could shed some light on this thing before we see the doctor again.”

I held up my hands in protest. “Hey, not me! I’m no expert in that area.”

“No, just listen to what she has to tell you,” he said, waving me on.

“I know you’re busy right now, so maybe you could come over later, if you have the time.”

“Okay,” I gave in. “I’ll try.”

He smiled with relief. “Great. I’ll call my wife and let her know you’re coming. How does six o’clock sound?”

I agreed and headed to my office to finish up some paperwork.

At the end of the day, I jumped into my car and headed east off of Sunset Boulevard. I proceeded up to Beverly Hills and drove down their palm-lined drive, past rows of two-story mansions with Cadillacs in their horseshoe driveways. I felt right at home in my own Cadillac, which I had traded in my old one for, last month. Inside and out, Roger Fleming’s home was immaculate, not a really large mansion, but a semi-modern, one- story in an excellent neighborhood. Ringing the bell, I heard the soft chime announcing my presence. Rogers’s attractive wife, Sherrie, invited me through the home and out onto a fabulous covered patio, wonderfully landscaped and lined with palm trees. Nancy, their daughter, was sunning on a large, brightly colored lounge chair by the pool, in a beach robe and a one-piece white bathing suit.

Covering her legs and folding her arms, Nancy cried, “Mom!” She turned and covered her face. “I don’t want anyone here!”

“Nancy,” Sherrie comforted her daughter, “Mr. Tompkins is here to visit with you. He just wants to help. I’m right here. You don’t need to be afraid.”

I held up my hands in protest. “If she’s troubled right now, I can come back at another time.”

“No, its fine,” Nancy answered abruptly and started to cry. “He gets on top of me; enters my body. I don’t want him to, but he holds me down and goes in me. I don’t want him to do that stuff to me.”

“Who did this to you?” I asked.

“They did. They do it all the time. Any time they want to. They stay as long as they want. I think they enter me to find out how I function.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m trying to tell you! They get in me all the time and I can’t stop them.”

Have you called the cops to have them arrested? That’s rape. How many guys are doing this to you? And how often?”

“I don’t know, quite a few. He doesn’t understand, Mother. He’s no help, either.” She started to cry again.

“Try to be quiet dear,” said Sherri. “Mr. Tompkins is trying to help you.”

I nodded my head and tried to look sincere. “Where are you when this happens?”

“Anywhere! Sometimes, when I’m driving home, the pricks jump in my car, force me to pull over, pull me over the front seat, on to the back seat, then pull my clothes off and hold me down. I can’t stop them. Sometimes they do the same thing at two in the morning in my bed. I try to scream, but I can’t make a sound.”

I scratched my head. She just kept repeating the same story over and over again. It was as if she was worked up to the point where she could only say the same thing.

All I could say was, “Why?”

“That’s what I am asking you! You’re the fucking asshole who knows everything. You’re the goddamn expert.”

Putting her hand over Nancy’s mouth, her mother said, “You shouldn’t talk to Mr. Tompkins like that.”

I tried to sympathize, but she blurted,

“No, you don’t understand.”

Well I didn’t before, but I understand now.”

“Hooray for you. At least someone realizes that these things are entering me to find out what makes me tick. So, why do you think they’re doing this to me?”

“I guess I don’t know. But I am really sorry this is happening to you.”

“Maybe you are, but that won’t stop them. I’ve lost control. I have no control over myself. I’m not myself. I feel like I’m someone else. I’m looking for a place to cover up and hide all the time; this isn’t me. Someone has taken over my body and mind and is inside of me.”

She started shaking. “It’s as if they’re making me into one of them.”

Holy cats, I thought, this was not my area. How could I get out of here?

“Speak a little louder if you can, dear,” said Sherri, as if I hadn’t heard her.

“They are converting me into them!” Nancy yelled. “Also, I have something in me.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“I mean, they stuck a thing in my upper leg with one of those big needles. The needles have claws and they left this hard little thing in me.”

Pulling off her robe to reveal her hip, Nancy yanked the side of her bathing suit above her waist with three fingers and exposed her bottom. “Right there,” she said, grabbing my hand and placing it on her hip.

“Inside. Can you feel it?”

Oh, Nancy, cover yourself up!” said her mother.

“Why? He’s a doctor, isn’t he?”

“I am so sorry, Mr. Tompkins. Nancy is just upset.”

Rubbing her eyes, Nancy asked me, “What’s your first name?”

“Bill,” I answered, pulling my hand away. I had felt something like a hard callous on the inside of her skin, covered with soft flesh. “Have you shown this to a doctor?”

She shook her head. “They all say that it’s nothing, that it’s not cancerous and they aren’t worried about it.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked, perplexed.

“No.” She pulled her robe back up.

“But I think they use it to find me somehow. Is that possible?”

Her robe slipped down again, exposing her legs, and Sherri reached down to pull it up. “Tie it, dear,” she said.

Not answering Nancy, I thought that she sure as hell could be right about them tracking her, but this was way out of my league.

They come inside of my body,” Nancy went on. “Don’t you understand that? I can’t tell the doctors the truth; they would put me in the nut house! These ‘guys’ all tell me they love me and will protect me. Protect me from what? They’re hurting me terribly, raping me. How am I being protected? I’m constantly fighting whatever’s inside me. Do you think you can understand that?”

I was frustrated, but I said, “I’m sorry this is happening to you. The best way for me to help you is to ask you some specifics. Are you okay with continuing?”

She sighed. “I thought we were already doing that. None of this is ever going to be okay until it stops or I stop.”

I collected myself. “What do these creatures look like?” I asked.

“If it was Dean Martin fucking me, I would enjoy it,” she spat.

But these guys are from out there. Way out there. They’re extraterrestrials. What else can tell you?”

“What do they look like?”

“They never let me see their faces.”

“I don’t understand . . . they’re lying on top of you?”

“Yes, but they always have their faces turned to the side.”

Are they nude, like you?”

“Sometimes. They often wear a sort of tight material, like skin.”

“What color is it?”

“Silver blue.”

“What color is their skin in the tight outfit?”

“Light green or brown.”

“How do they get their privates out? Do they have a zipper?”

“How the fuck do I know? It’s always dark and I am scared out of my mind. I’ll ask them to stop fucking me next time, grab them, and examine their stuff for you.”

I didn’t get angry at this. Instead, I asked her, “Do you think it’s possible they’re doing this to control us, here, on this planet?”

“Damn it! You people know more about these things than me. I don’t know why. I guess it’s possible. Why me? I think they’re trying to punish my Dad. This hasn’t happened to any of my girlfriends.” Then she got offensive and added: “Maybe it’s your fault.”

I stepped back at the thought. “Hold on there, lady. You can trust that I am definitely not going to hurt you.”

Sherri interceded. “She is so upset, Mr. Tompkins. Maybe you should let her rest now.”

Nancy jumped up from the pool chair. “No Mother! I want him to help me. At least I can tell that he believes me!” She turned my way. “Can you fix this?”

At that moment, the phone in the living room rang. Sherri left the pool area to go answer it. Swinging her legs off the lounge chair, Nancy got up in my face, dried her tears, and put her hands on her hips. “Now you listen to me, Mr. Spaceman,” she said. “Daddy told me you’re the fucking expert over in the Think Tank; that you know all about these ‘people’ out there. I’m going to let you off the hook for now, but you’d better be back soon with help. Do you understand me? I’ve told you what’s happening. Can you help me or not?”

I nodded and tried to hold back how helpless I felt. “I’m knowledgeable about the abductions,” I replied. “Your situation is under study by the finest experts on the planet. I’ll try to get you help, okay?”

“No! It’s not okay. Don’t ‘try’ to get me help. Do it. You got me? I want you back here in two days, same time, same pool.”

Boy is she spoiled, I thought. How am I going to do this? “I’ll try to get back here in a couple of days,” I answered. “And I’ll see what I can find out about your dilemma.”

At that, Nancy walked away, as if to lead me through her house, to the front door. I followed her, but she pivoted and waved me back towards the pool. Thinking she was too pissed off to show me to the door, I took that as my cue to get out. Sherrie, her mother, was still on the phone as I reached the door. The whole house felt cold.

Back in my Cadillac, I felt better. I mulled over a few things in my mind. Who could I talk to about this? Who could help this girl? How could we protect her, or protect anybody for that matter?

With very little sleep that night I called Cliff and Ralph to make arrangements for before work at 6:00 a.m. breakfast tomorrow morning. We met at a Santa Monica Boulevard coffee shop. Before I could open my mouth Cliff said, “Bill, you don’t look so good. What did Wheaton want yesterday?”

I threw up my hands and let it all out, “Well, apparently Roger Fleming’s daughter was having an alien problem. Roger and their family doctor wanted to put her into the hospital for psychoanalyzing. They thought that she was just delusional. They wanted to talk to me first.”

Cliff patted me on the back and laughed, “They wanted to give you the first crack at the alien problem? Well, that must have made your day.”

I exclaimed, “No, didn’t want anything to do with it. I’m no psychiatrist. The girl practically ran all over me. I’ve never meet such a rude and spoiled little brat.”

Cliff shrugged his shoulders, “First off, we better have Jessica get her alien buddies to back off on Fleming’s daughter.”

“Nice thought, Cliff, but Jessica will never admit that she is not from here. Besides, her people don’t carry big enough sticks to make these black hats back off. Their horses are no match for these entities.”

“No time to study; we need a plan now,” Ralph added.

Cliff disagreed, “No, It’s important to figure out similar circumstances. Remember that propulsion service rep that Howard talked to? His name was Spenser. Bert Spenser.”

Ralph said, “He got hit a lot at White Sands on the NIKE ZEUS program.”

Yes,” I reminisced, “They continued to abduct him even on the Thor system launches from Vandenberg.”

Cliff continued and thrust out his hand to make another point, “And then there was that Dotty, the girl who was working on the structures of the WS-315A Thor. She was abducted.”

Ralph attempted to join in, “Hey, even that guy Ray something over at El Segundo, he is a supervisor in product development.”

I countered, “No. He is in Operations on Navy aircraft at El Segundo.”

Cliff agreed, “You’re right, Bill. His name is Raymond Sutras. They have been abducting him continuously since he was 4 years old.”

I started to feel relieved that I was actually getting some help, “That’s good, you guys. I’ll have Jessica round up our background on them for a start.”

Ralph added, “Could you pull any or all reports on this in our CSI files?”

I answered, “Yes.”

“That’s right Bill; I know at least six in there alone.”

“Cliff, could you hit Klemp on this?”

“I am going to get with Dr. Harding; let’s get together at 11:30 and compare notes. Okay, gentlemen.”

“Thanks for helping Nancy last night Tommie,” Earl said. I have known her since she was a baby; Roger’s daughter is a really fine young lady.”

“This is a terrible thing that she is going through. I know you are loaded but it would help if you can find some way to assist her.”

“Now, you know this is actually one of our problems that Klemp has,”

I interrupted him, “This is a major element that is applicable to at least six of the eight alien species that we are trying to understand.”

“When you can, I would like you to inform me as to whom our finest experts on the planet are that are studying the abductions; I really need to talk this over with them.”

“Ouch; that hurt, Mr. Wheaton,” I said.

“Well, Tommie, at this point in recent history, meaning right now, those finest experts on the planet are in Klemp’s file. Maybe if you and your buddy Klemp in the Think Tank could look at the New Program Requirements file. I think its No. 14 ‘still to be developed. Am I wrong in this?”

“Ouch, that really hurts, Mr. Wheaton,” I answered.

“Making that up at that time must have helped Nancy, but that means that you are now Project Engineer on No. 14, finest abduction expert on the planet, as in other hobbies, have fun.”

“Seriously, everybody is overloaded; however this subject interfaces, and may affect far more of our ability to expand our understanding of the alien threats and agendas. We must develop methods to understand these different beings that could have developed the capability to move off their planet out into the galaxies fifty million years ago.”

“Wow, Elmer, where did that come from? That’s my line,” I said.

“Gather up who you need and form another study group. We’ll meet in my conference room at 5:00 p.m. this afternoon; bring your girlfriend Jessica.”

“Bill, you have got to be nicer to her, get her input more than just a suggestion.”

“Elmer, she is Nordic. We have no advisory contract with them like Truman who gave away the fucking store to the tall Grays back in ‘47.”

“She is a volunteer and will not acknowledge who she really is; you know that.”

“Well, yes, but she is advanced so far above us in this galactic area; we really need help.”

Everyone showed up at 5:00 p.m. After Elmer and I brought them up to date, Klemp hit us all with sex: interbreeding and control; that’s what two of these extraterrestrial civilizations want, the reptilians and the grays.

He added that one strain of grays - who at times work for the reptilians - really need to be dealt with. They are very bad people that are sometimes useful but always troublesome.

Several strains of the reptilians must also be dealt with, as they are extremely violent ones, very dangerous, the worst, and a race of killers.

If it is established that the Federation of Planets and or Federation of Galaxies do exist, then it is assumed that the distances between stars and galaxies are so great that establishing a military control over these species at this time is impossible. Control over these reptilian species will be very difficult. That being said, it is a given that we will have very little alliance for support at this time.

Knowing that they are vicious and very difficult to control, we are defenseless against them.

This reminded me of my earlier conversation with Nancy, Roger Fleming’s daughter, who had been having personal attacks.

“A force came out of those violent eyes, right at me and into my eyes; splashing my face, nearly knocking me off my feet and snapping my neck back.”

“Has this happened before?” I asked.

“No; well, not like this.”

“I grabbed my head with both hands; desperately tried to pull my head back in place. I fainted, that’s all I remember. I woke up sitting in the front passenger side of my car.”

“The same thing happened to me last night at the Brown Derby on Wilshire Boulevard. I rode back to the parking lot with the cute parking attendant to meet my friends. Thought I saw them drive their own car way back there. It was very dark behind that long row of palm trees, couldn’t find them; started walking back out to the Derby entrance when he grabbed me.”

“More hunched this time, may not be the same one.” ”He flipped the head thing off and I froze, couldn’t move, it was evil.”

“Much worse than a zombie, ominous, red orange in those massive green-black eyes; a cross between a jackal and a gargoyle. I thought it was going to eat me and I fainted.”

Downing her drink, she said, “Okay, Spaceman; ball’s in your court; spit it out: what the fuck is happening to me? Don’t just sit there–tell me right now! "

“Name is Bill; I think you should give up the pot.”

She jumped up, wearing those four-inch heels, spread her legs out, and put both fists on her hips. She glared down at me and said: “You fucking son of a bitch.”

“Well Nancy, that really helped you, at least now you are not scared.”

“Now you listen to me, Billy Boy, or whoever you are.”

I cut her off: “Okay little girl, your inflated ego won’t work with me anymore. All you need is a little love.”

“Well you certainly aren’t big enough to take care of that.” She spread her legs even more and sat down on my lap with her face in my face.

At the next day’s meeting on the new project, Wheaton asked me if I had found a way to help Roger’s daughter through her current problem.

Well yes, Elmer I have talked to her and it seems that she is not as frightened now. I really believe she will continue to improve.

At that time, we in the Tank had a large number of alien species documented in our files. They included copies of commercial/military reports, drawings, sketches, poor photos and naval/private citizen abductions. These were acquired from military and private encounters, as well as from the CSI reports from all over the planet. We, almost from the first enlightenment, were still in denial to accept that we were not alone and could really be in trouble. As I have said before, somehow, it didn’t bother me, but most of the PhD’s simply could not accept that there was an alien race out there. Even worse, that it was possible nineteen different species were really fouling up our planet, not knowing where the number nineteen came from. However, we all were continually forced to accept new and different types of aliens, like the seven and eight foot tall Grays who appeared to be the bosses. We studied every type of alien to understand who they were and what their agenda was. In addition, we wondered: what type of habitable environment does their planet have? In addition, through interbreeding with some other controlled planet out there, how many new species did that group create? Also, what about those insect-like aliens, the ones with the large eyes: did they live underground? We were fascinated by all of this.

Oh, yes, when all the stuff started to sift in on Presidents Eisenhower’s rain dance with the Nordics in ‘54 at Edwards AFB, we in the tank had a ball with those different aliens.

Jessica said, “Surprise, surprise; you guys are finally understanding there are thousands of different others in this sector of the galaxy alone.”

“How do you know that?” Bob asked.

“Yes,” Cliff said, “I got one of Bill’s flashes that one of those four star Admirals in full dress uniform was educating Ike at Edwards’s. You’re in the Nordic navy too?”

Before Jessica could answer, I walked in and said, “Get off my little girl’s back, Cliff.”

Jessica pulled her standard answer, “I won’t tell.”

2 Hollywood, the Brown Derby and Dr. Handen

My older cousin, Walter Handen, my older brother, Tom, and I were raised together like brothers in Hollywood, California. And yes, the three of us frequently sat on the floor of Uncle Harding’s living room in his large elaborately furnished Santa Monica home. We were fascinated by being surrounded with ancient Egyptian artifacts. Dr. Harding was chief surgeon at the Santa Monica Hospital. He and his three young daughters also sat on the floor, reading. They had, for years, made numerous trips to the pyramids, acquiring hundreds of photos and actual artifacts. They were attempting to decipher the hieroglyphics.

Back in Hollywood, Walter lived with his father and mother in a small rented house with a dirt back yard. The three of us boys regularly dug holes in the dirt. Some of our tunnels were four feet deep. We were boring the holes while being watched by several three foot tall “Borts.” They looked like half rabbit and half- gopher. The Borts would sometimes just appear from around the side of the house as soon as we started digging. They sort of jumped around watching us, making no sound. We paid no attention to them. Walter utilized his imagination to create images of very large boring machines. I made drawings and helped him build models of his Juggernaut type boring vehicles that would bore down into the earth. Most of them would fire light beams ahead of gigantic corkscrew-nosed boring machines to explore the interior of the earth and gain access to exotic materials.

Much later in his life, Walter changed his name to John Handen and drilled the deepest hole on the planet. He went to UCLA and got his BS in Geology while in the ROTC. He was commissioned and served in the Pacific theaters of World War II. He got malaria while fighting in the Pacific. Walter came back to Hollywood, went to UCLA, got his doctorate and went to work at the Shell Oil Research Center in Houston, Texas. He was the Senior Scientist on the government’s Geographic Deep Drill Hole Program. The earth sciences research program was conducted off the continental shelf in the Atlantic Ocean. He researched astrophysics, combining earth structural strata with solar system planet elements and structures.

Later in the late 1960’s and 1970’s John attained the distinction of Dean of Texas A&M in Houston. He was one of the principal geophysicists / astrophysicists on the planet. John continued his astrophysics studies as lunar, planetary and star advisor at NASA, also located at Houston.

He frequently flew out to Los Angeles, alone, for several days at a time as principal speaker at UCLA, CALTEC, JPL and TRW. Some of these briefings were highly classified government programs. Missing the mountains and the beautiful southern California weather, he always stayed in our home in San Fernando Valley, with my wife and our three children. As we had always been very close, keeping in touch with our families gave us an opportunity to combine his star and planetary programs with my Douglas and, later, TRW Think Tank penetration into the Universe. We talked with each other about the extraterrestrial threats until three in the morning, laughing at each other’s concepts. At times his involvement was addressing the Navy sponsored unmanned and manned planetary fly by probe space vehicle missions that I planned earlier at Douglas and more recently at TRW.

Several times John revised his thoughts on the potential advantage of technical interface communication with the aliens. He never got into remote viewing, like I did, however. He was extremely interested in the aliens’ knowledge of tectonic physics and their galactic experience. Our discussions on this subject were extremely interesting to me because the same thoughts had surfaced in my mind, or someone alien put them in there. We needed to somehow take advantage of the aliens’ vast experience and establish specific trouble areas on our planet and develop earthquake building codes to protect our population.

Now, remember, John and I were involved in totally different technical fields. So, John continually pushed me to sweet talk my little plaything at Douglas to help us. I tried to explain to John that Jessica has never said that she is a Nordic, even though she flirts almost daily with me, exposing her unbelievable knowledge of the universe. And, yes, she frequently stuffs my head with exactly what is needed on a program. When I implement the plan it works every time. When I tell John this, he shakes his head in disbelief. But we separately came to the same conclusion about the necessity that at some point in time we would recommend leaving our home planet, because this planet at one time in ancient history had only one continent, causing it to be extremely unstable. That the continents did slowly separate helped, but did not prevent major catastrophic events. Our planet also has a very bad history of one tectonic plate climbing on top of another and forcing the other down into the magma, causing volcanic eruptions along several thousand miles at the same time. Like down from Alaska through the U.S. and Ecuador to Chile.

One clear sunny morning, Jessica, being nosey as usual and aware of my cousin and his interest in history said, “Billy, call your cousin over at CALTEC. Let’s meet at the Brown Derby, cocktails at six.”

The Derby is on Wilshire Boulevard and a really nice place to get together. John had arrived earlier than Jessica and me. Our maître de ushered us both to John’s glass table. I had told John several times about this gorgeous plaything that I had at Douglas. But he was still not briefed enough before the meeting, at seeing her sashay in a flowing orange mini that was so short it exposed all the little pink things underneath. John, being a gentleman, stood up and nearly knocked the table over and almost spilled his drink. Now, I have told you guys reading this book about Jessica’s entries, before. But poor conservative John was just not prepared for Jessica. With her flirting smile she sat down across from John, spreading both of her arms wide up on the top of the leather booth back cushion, while crossing her legs.

The expression on John’s face said it all. He lost all memory related to sciences. Jessica pulled him back with:

“John, what do you know about Admiral’ Riis’ maps?”

John was thinking that this is so funny - an intelligent, sophisticated, historical question coming out of a dumb, blond showgirl. That brought him into another spin that he was unable to answer. Jessica playfully reached over the table and took his hand. She pulled the glass out of his hand and downed the cocktail.

Billy, I though you told me he was up on the alien stuff?”

Just then our waitress popped in. Almost before she could even say her name - which was Helen - Jessica slapped her on her bottom and snapped, ”Double Margaritas all around, now. Let’s get this party going.”

Groggy John said to me, “It must be really fun working at Douglas; could I have one like that?”

Reading his mind telepathically, Jessica blurted out, “No, little John, you can’t order another one like me, I am the only one in this Galaxy.”

“How about the universe?” John said.

In three minutes, and with a sheepish smile, Helen showed up with our drinks. She served them from the other side of the table. Where Jessica could not smack her again...

Now just sipping her Margarita, Jessica said to John, “I know all about you sneaking out into the Atlantic Ocean on the continental shelf, and at night, mind you; so no one could see you drilling a deep hole in your lopsided planet. There are laws about people doing things like that. That won’t work now. Some of us have bigger eyes and can see everything you do. It’s bad enough that you were punching holes in the dinosaurs; you use them to stink up the planet but you, Dr. little John, were really trying to find gold. Also I saw you with that drill in your hands and complaining all the way down of the grinding noise. Well, little John, for your information, those were the dinosaurs hollering and you know it.

“And about your questionable past, John; you sold your soul to that dumb Shell Oil Co. back when… back when you quit school and started pumping the dinosaurs up to Houston. Yes you did run the school; teaching how to rob the dinosaur’s graveyard in six easy lessons. But you never tried to push the Trilateral to get the World Bank to fund electromagnetic and antigravity energy. And wait just a minute. What have you done to stop cancer and get you guys to live 2,000 years, like sensible people do.”

“Jessica, that is my line. That is the biggest pitch I have ever heard you say; I love you.”

“Well, Billy, I love you, too, but this cousin of yours has got some explaining to do.”

“Dr. Little John boy, speak up. If you can’t justify how you broke the law then answer my question. The Admiral Riis charts; what do you know about them?”

By this time my cousin, John, was on his fourth margarita. He answered,

“You are right Jessica, I can’t justify my past but I have changed. I am out of the corruption to the planet. However, I did extensively study the Admiral’s maps. And yes, we came to the conclusion that they were drawn before the last Ice Age. Not making any assumptions about, it but I think Jessica, one of your great Grandfathers drew them.”

“Bill, get out of digging dirt holes in the back yard and give me more about what goes on when looking at the stars at two in the morning.“

“Well Blondie, I am certain that you know more about warming up a cold night than I did at that time because I was really a late bloomer. Besides, I can almost see the stars in your beautiful eyes and that gorgeous smile right now, so let’s get on with it.”

The point here is that two boys, for whatever reason, grew up together with an intense interest in what makes up our planet and galaxy. We then separately accomplished major achievements, professionally, and then reunited twenty years later - at the highest possible technical level - contributing on the most important programs ever attempted by man. Neither of us participated in heavy sports or had time for girls - because we didn’t have the time - All our efforts were devoted to studying every aspect of our different technical fields.

That did not prevent either one of us from becoming exceptional, passionate, lovers later, however. When I looked into her gorgeous starry eyes, everything in the universe changed for both of us: we got married and we are still lovers years later.


CHAPTER 18

PUSHING TWO ENVELOPES

The Air Force Thor Weapons System WS 315A was, to some of us in the Tank, a learning curve for the automated system required as a prototype for the Mars and Planetary stations. Still pushing the envelope on the Moon underground center and the Mars surface Naval communication station facility, we were pulled out of the Tank again for Elmer’s ballistic missile program. However, I had to wear two hats for that missile system development. Still with one foot in the Tank door, I was privileged to utilize the extremely advanced electronic missile systems we were developing on the expanding requirements for the Mars facility.

After the Roswell events of July 4, 1947 finally sank in at the Pentagon, elements of the old Army Air Force and the Naval Intelligence worked secretly investigating the alien problem. The Air Force and Navy missile and space vehicles research and study contracts started pouring into Douglas Engineering Advanced Design.

Elmer Wheaton’s Advanced Design Proposals, that I had been designing for the Air Force, were for an Intermediate Range Ballistic Missile weapons system program that paid off big. I don’t mean to repeat myself but this accomplishment was astounding at that time. It was a major contract to deploy hundreds of 2,000 mile range IRBM‘s with mobile launching capabilities. Douglas had been in competition with the German rocket technicians. These people were part of “Paperclip,” bringing several hundred of the top German rocket people over to the U.S. to continue their rocket development. Their latest was our Army’s Jupiter Rocket IRBM designed by these German V-2 scientists at the Army’s Redstone Arsenal in Huntsville, Alabama. During early IRBM studies at Douglas, Ramo-Wooldridge consultants (my first design contact with the later TRW) had been advising the Air Force and creating our design concepts.

We won the Phase I Concept and then the production contract, which became the Air Force WS -315 A Missile Program (Douglas DM-18) that was deployed in Europe. And we created a new Missile and Space Department A-260.

The Douglas design Thor DM-18 Missile was by far the simplest and most reliable large liquid propellant rocket ever built on this planet. It has been in operation continually since its storage at the end of the Cold War. The Thor Delta II heavy rockets are now the standard launch vehicle that NASA used to place the ion-propelled spaceship probes to Mars.

This part will blow you away. To acquire a perspective and an understanding of what it has taken for all of us to make this trip into our galaxies and the Universe, you must first understand the complications involved in the design and development of one of the first major large rocket systems. It was first necessary for us in Advanced Design to reverse engineer the entire World War II German V-2 rocket system. Then we established where the weaknesses were in their system and conceived automated new designs that simplified the overall system operating functions and provided unbelievable reliably. This was accomplished primarily by the Missile Check-out and Launch organization that I was assigned to as Assistant Group Engineer responsible for all program launch operating functions.

For you to improve your understanding of the magnitude of designing the most critical elements in the launch of the most reliable heavy space vehicle ever built on our planet, you must look at the automated system. I don’t know how to put it any other way; this was a magnificent accomplishment at that time.

As is often the case in progressing from a research and development phase to a production phase it was necessary for the DM-18 advanced design group and engineering to reorganize. The Ground Support Equipment and launch test had required more engineers than the missile. With so large a proportion of the engineers in the original design phase, it was only natural that the reorganization had such a great effect on all of engineering.

A new DM-18 Missile Design Group was created in 1955 and I was pulled out of Advanced Design and assigned as Assistant Group Engineer of the Douglas DM-18 IOC (Interim Operating Capability test equipment group). Using missile system checkout and launch techniques developed during all the Douglas Engineering years of Navy and NIKE series missile design, manufacturing test, field prelaunch and firing, development and operational Deployment gave us the heads up to the Moon and Mars.

1 Jessica: still in the old wooden hangar

It was nearly eleven o’clock; most of the Apollo people had gone home. “Cliff.” I said, jumping up from my chair in my office, “I know it now; remember way back when we were just getting started with Apollo, back in the old wood hangar with the splintered floor?”

Startled, he said, “Yeah, what’s the problem?”

“Remember when Jessica fell down the wooden stairs going down to the blueprint files?”

Before he could answer I continued, “Well, I saw the whole damn thing.”

“What are you saying? We were in your old office with Bob and Ralph when that happened.”

“I know that, but I saw the whole accident; heard everything they said, in another flash, just now! I was in her mind, Cliff. Even heard that boss of hers trying to get her to wake up. Now, Jessica hardly ever talks to me telepathically. She just throws me a picture of what the situation is; or should be. You know; like the other Nordics do. But this was very different; she slipped me into her mind. Just like I told you back then about Max Stanley, Chief test pilot at Northrop.

“It was its first flight; when he took that B-49 Flying Wing bomber off the short Northrop Hawthorne runway. Somebody dropped me in Max’s head and I rode right along with him in the front seat, under the bubble canopy. Could see, feel and even smell that new green aluminum primer paint coming up from the flight engineer’s station. The vibration noise, from the flexing of the outer wing panels from the rough concrete runway, was even louder than the four 4300 Pratt and Whitney pusher engines.”

“What are you saying, Bill, is that those white hat aliens have the ability to enter our minds and implement their agendas. Expose us to exactly what they want. If we expect that, then the black hats can control the Russians in the same way.”

“Oh boy, we are really in trouble.”

2 Hitler and the SS

Oh My God! We’re out of Apollo again and back in Advanced Design. Dr. Klemperer was giving me a hard time as usual, right after our 10:00 a.m. coffee break.

Billie boy,” he said, “you are spending too much time playing with your ‘How to do it games.’”

He has been calling me that ever since he heard my secretary Jessica - back on the Apollo program section - call me that when she really wants something. Barbara, the hottie from Corporate in a mini skirt, overheard this time and jumped in before I had a chance to defend myself: “Oh Billy, that’s so cute of Dr. Klemp to call you that. But he is right, why are you fooling around drawing all these little blocks? Didn’t your mother ever give you real blocks to play with when you were a baby?”

She added, “I am cleared way above top secret and I have a need to know! What are you and Klemp really doing here now?”

“You know Barb, you are so full of that stuff it isn’t funny. And stop shaking your little butt at Klemp or you will give him ideas, too. But if you must know so you can report back to your fucking corporate bosses. Klemp replied, “Go ahead and tell her Bill; Elmer said maybe it would help if they understand that part of our Think Tank operations.”

Barb said, “Well, really, Bill, Dr. Klemp is right again. If they hear it from me it might really help you guys and get them off your backs. How did this whole Klemp thing get started?”

“Well, Barb, as you know, Dr. Klemperer came on board in 1934 before Paperclip flew von Braun over from Germany after World War II. There were several dozen, weren’t there, Klemp?”

Klemp got a call and had to leave.

“Go ahead Billy, tell me!”

“Well, yes, we got Klemp and he had this list of all those guys mostly from Germany. All those would-be intergalactic fly boys were driven to go to the stars. Farmers, shoe salesmen, and engineers driven to design and build the propulsion and a spaceship and fly to the stars.”

“Oh, Billy, you are pulling my leg again, aren’t you?”

“No Barbara, each guy got the same type of thoughts to leave this solar system. Not to go to the Moon or Mars, but to take their family to a nicer planet orbiting another star. I think it got started about 1872 and continued until Hitler and the SS found out about their fantastic research. Imprisoned them in underground sweat shops to continue their research. Hitler wanted to use their vehicles to control this planet and possibly establish a master race on the planets in our solar system.

“Hitler lost the war and Dr. Klemperer got this list and brought it to Douglas for us to evaluate and find the most promising propulsion systems. That list is now refined with their concepts, prototypes and is our Douglas MTM-622 Unconventional Propulsion Schemes.”

“Okay, I get it,” Barb said. “Then you, Carl and Jim used Klemp’s most promising propulsion systems, such as electromagnetic and antigravity, to power your proposed large Navy starcraft carriers that will operate at more than light speed.”

Yes, and we have also acquired some of the alien green integrated circuit boards, microchips and fiber optic wire that were from crashed and acquired alien vehicles. We are back engineering them and designing our control and power versions of Klemp’s propulsion systems and some of our Apollo checkout and launch systems.”

Barb interrupted,

“Hold it right there, Billie Boy! Don’t try and convince me that you guys stole that new stuff on the floor of Hangar 18 at Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio! Oh, you little so and so. I remember you did stop off there last March on your last trip to the Pentagon.”

“Well it was not Hangar 18, Barb; that was full up to the ceiling with their stuff. It’s possible that some things fell in our pockets while we were peeking into Hangar 16. Well, Barb, the Air Force said that no alien craft exist, so they can’t put us in prison for just borrowing a few little trinkets, can they?”

Just then, Dr. Sylvester Morrison and Dr. Philip Greaser, both on the expanding RAND Think Tank staff, walked in and Dr. Morrison said, Tompkins, Dr. Klemperer suggested we sit in on your method of conceiving your advanced 2000 weapon development plan. We are keenly interested in your precise thinking process and your step by step analysis/definition.”

He went on saying, “Your briefings have interested Dr. Greaser and me extensively. Where did you complete your advanced concept thesis? Was it under Dr. Bromberg at CalTech?”

Barb said, “Gentleman, you timed it well.”

William was just getting started on my corporate report. I ignored their sarcastic education background crap; they always consider the Advanced Design Tank as a step-child to their operation. I went on, explaining how difficult it has been to think of all the steps necessary to check-out and launch our NIKE ZEUS anti-missile missile (that later became “Star Wars”), using old outdated Army mule operating methods. I conceived my functional flow vertical analysis of virtually every element necessary for the design, build and firings of these very high velocity missiles and warheads. I included each event that could malfunction. I also established backup elements to correct them and move on to a useful launch, using this engineering concept for all our Douglas unsolicited government proposals.

Particularly for the development of very complicated launch systems, I also initiated functional flow block diagrams for all our Advanced Design space star ships. In 1953 several of us had flown back to White Sands Proving Ground in New Mexico to evaluate the German V-2 unguided rockets and their crude mobile launchers. We roughed out a plan and conceived how to reverse engineer and convert these uncontrolled V-2 rockets into computer-controlled guided intermediate range missiles with checkout and launch systems located in mobile trailers. These would be deployed all over the planet. We can move them whenever the other guys find out wherever our launch sites are located.

I then conceived and listed every necessary element to develop my entire weapon system development management plan. Using my detailed functional block diagram concept, including every item in the entire weapon system, I utilized task and functional flow items as advancements from the old DM18 vertical activity plan of every event required to successfully conceive, define, develop and operate an entire weapon system. Then I established and chaired a system group and requested each design section chief to define every task and system that is required for their missile or aircraft development, requiring all to be summarized to show how our section integrated the entire development plan. Then I integrated every item into horizontal block diagrams and functional flows in the entire list. I separated the then 44- page list of events into Concept, Definition, Development and Operation. I established these into phases and listed them into a horizontal, long, foldout management document that we used in the design of our Army NIKE ZEUS anti-missile/missile program. Every element in this plan is identified in blocks that are in four major phases: concept phase, definition phase, development phase, and operation phase.

A rough of my management plan later became the first deployed Army NIKE ZEUS battery. An underground operational control launch center and of missiles that we (I) designed in the Advanced Design Think Tank was actually built and deployed outside of Boston in 1957. We had an unsolicited proposal with the Navy, first as a complete submarine launched IRBM weapon system, and then as a plan for their submarine- launched long range missiles. This unsolicited proposal concept engineering effort resulted in our design requirements for unsolicited bids to the Army for the NIKE ZEUS antimissile/missile program and the Air Force WS-315A (Douglas DM-18 Thor) Intermediate Range Ballistic Missile programs that we won almost single-handed because of our Advanced Design understanding of the alien threat. We had simulated it in an unsolicited bid before they ever transmitted an industry (RFP) request for proposal.

Even later I proposed it to the top brass at NASA on the Apollo Moon program and it got us to the Moon. For a number of years we (I) in AD continued to accept all the fuss and praises because of our near perfect concepts.

More recently we have accepted that not all of the approaches that seemed to be on track are really thought out in our brains. They may be from telepathic suggestions stated by aliens, allowing us to accomplish tasks that were instigated by their agendas.

Now, not all of this stuff fell together in my brain at the same time; but those alien guys, primary star girls who have very attractive physical characteristics and who operate in pairs here in Douglas, kept sort of dropping stuff between my ears. The systems just fell in place.

Dr. Greager said, “Tompkins, please don’t expect us to accept dreaming and men from Mars to support your success. You are constantly saying I developed this one, I managed this. We all know that aircraft and missile engineering is a profession that is accomplished by hundreds of far more talented people than your limited experience could possibly provide. So, really, who is the brains that has helped you accomplish these amazing developments?”

“Go fuck yourself, Doctor!”

3 It’s northeast of the slot machines at Vegas

BLOW THEIR STACKS, REVERSE ENGINEERING

It was 6:30 in the evening at the cocktail lounge, again Dean’s Place, on the beach in Santa Monica. All the glasses sparkled behind the counter in the low lights and in the smiling eyes of that darling little thing. Holding out her arms, she said, “You space boys really need hugs tonight.”

We were on our first drinks. Cliff, Ralph Malone, and I were trying to justify our complete change from NASA’s contract for manual checkout and launch of our Apollo S-IV Stage. Change to an automated system for our Rocketdyne restartable single J-2 engine S-IVB Stage.

“Corporate will blow their stacks when they find out what we’ve done,” Cliff said.

“You may be right,” I said, “but it will be nearly impossible trying to get those NASA hardheads to sit down and listen to a concept that isn’t a German idea.”

“NASA will be easy compared to Douglas manufacturing,” Ralph said. “Those guys have been running the entire company for ages. Remember NIKE ZEUS and the DM-18 missile production manufacturing? They always had their manual test equipment contractors lined up for big under-the-table kick back dollars.”

“Okay, gentleman,” I said, “it’s imperative that we accomplish our plan. Do you remember how we got into this in the first place?”

“Yeah,” Cliff added, “you conceived a concept; you waved your arms, drew those sketches, and away we all went to put your designs into the project like we always do.”

“No, Cliff, I mean after that extraterrestrial craft crashed in Roswell, New Mexico in ‘47. The Army Air Corps went out into the desert, picked up all the crash material. They flew it to Wright Patterson Air Base in Dayton Ohio, and then dumped all of it on the floor of the big hangar. Their powers to-be picked up the telephone and called the top engineering design guys from missile and aircraft companies. They instructed them to get their asses back to Wright-Pat, and then asked them: ‘What the hell is all of this crash material on the floor?’”

We know that, Bill. What’s your point?” Cliff asked.

“You guys may not be aware that the Navy has also acquired a dozen more UFOs since then, some we shot down.”

Wow,” Ralph said in a shock. “We shot them down?”

I added, “They have been studying them in large underground hangars at the Area 51 Base. It’s northeast of the slot machines at Las Vegas.”

“We know that too,” Ralph said.

“John Silva takes a United flight to Vegas every week. He stays at the MGM, flies one of those white 707 jets with the red stripes up to Area 51 every day, round trip. He’s stolen a lot of miniaturized extraterrestrial electronic equipment.”

Just then, Barbara from Corporate walked in to the lounge in a mini so short we could see her red panties. She grabbed my drink, downed it and said, “Oh, Ralph, you know Johnnie didn’t steal those alien goodies. He’s back-engineering that equipment in our El Segundo plant. Because you guys never do lab stuff like Jack Northrop did. Gosh don’t you boys know anything?”

Ralph asked, “Barbara, where’s your gray business suit, do you strip in your car after work every day?”

Outwardly pissed at her arrogance, Cliff asked, “How did you know we would be here? Are you stalking us?”

“Oh, come off it, Cliff. You guys are so easy. Anybody could follow you twerps, I don’t need the KGB.”

She went on, “We bought that plant from Jack so he could use the money to build his big Hawthorne plant. You know to develop his B-35 and B-49 flying wings. He has at least nineteen labs at Hawthorne now.”

“Enough,” I said, “Barb, normally I would say you’re full of shit, as usual, but you’re absolutely right…to a point. What you don’t know is when we are not in the plant we’re probably reverse engineering that microchip equipment John’s acquired over at the El Segundo Plant. Where the heck do you think our S-IVB automated wire-wrap came from, which eliminates 99-percent of the manufacturing, installation, and connection time and has the highest reliability on the planet? The wire-wrap connection joint is gas-tight. And, it improves with age by intermolecular exchange at the interface. And we aren’t even using wire; we’re using extraterrestrial fiber-optics.”

“Oh, come on, Bill, you guys have never even seen the inside of a laboratory,” she said. “You wouldn’t even know what to do in one.”

“Some of their automatic equipment appears to be biological. We’ve developed a detector that we’re using as a sensitive metric technique for determining bacterial population by measuring their enzymatic activity.”

“Oh, Billy, that spooky extraterrestrial stuff: don’t give me those big fucking words just because I’ve got long blond hair. I’ll bet you’re going to try to convince me you guys copied the little grey guys touchy-feely control panels, too.”

“No, but we’re working on it. Barb, sit down in that chair and quit wiggling your ass in Cliff’s face!”

“Well, if any of you guys were gentlemen,” Barbara said, “you would have stood up when a lady entered your area, anyway.”

“Fuck you, Barb,” I said. “If you were a lady, you wouldn’t have stolen my drink.”

“No, Bill,” Cliff said, “don’t stop her; she doesn’t need that chair. She’s going to give me a lap dance.”

“Oh, Cliffy,” Barbara played along, squirming on Cliff’s lap. “I love it when it gets hard like this. I bet you three spend all your lunches at the Kit-Cat Club in El Segundo, don’t you? And I bet several alien species hang out there, too.”

“Sure,” said Ralph, “but you’re probably pissed because we don’t invite you.”

Laughing, Barbara said, “Shut up, Ralph. You’re just Bill’s attorney, trying to keep everyone out of jail for stealing all the nice gray guys’ secret UFO things. But, Bill, what are these playing cards you’re not telling anyone about? Something Ralph is getting upset with?”

“Don’t say anything Bill! Barb’s from Corporate,” Ralph said.

But Barbara got up in his face. “Stay out of it, or else,” she said.

“Or else what, you frigging spy? Have me fired?” Ralph yelled. “Who do you really work for, Barbara? Corporate, Manufacturing, the subcontractors, who? You throw your body all around Engineering. Probably screw half of them just to get information on how we know more about the entire NASA Apollo program than von Braun.”

“Sit down, both of you,” I ordered.

“I know they’re not playing cards,” Barbara said. “They’re fantastic, juicy, laminated, electric circuit cards, stand up jumping microchips, and those cute little black 8-legged alien spiders crawling all over them. You guys have reverse engineered them into perfection. Oh no, they’re not strip poker cards, either. You know that if you can make them work, you could launch the entire Saturn vehicle and operate every function required for the missions to the Moon and Mars just with one of them. You guys are so frigging positive that you can really do it. You’re planning to develop seven Douglas subcontractor companies to manufacture every type required.”

“All right, Barbara,” I said. “Cliff and Ralph don’t know about you. Its time they do.”

“Know about what?” Cliff asked.

“Barbara is in the top corporate office,” I said. “But she’s on our side. She only tells them what’s in our best interest, and never lets them in on what we’re really doing until it’s beneficial to our plans.”

“Holy cats, Bill. Barbara from Corporate is a good guy? Both Cliff and Ralph said at the same time?”

“You mean,” Ralph said, “she’s one of us?”

“Let me kiss you Barb!” Cliff added.

“Okay, boys,” Barbara said, telling them that they were sweet and now everything would work out.

“I’m not as good as your alien secretary, Jessica,” she said to me. “Knowing exactly what you’re thinking before you say it. But when I came in here, I did pick up what you three were trying to figure out: how to justify your fracturing of our S-IVB contract. Because of what NASA is doing wrong with the Apollo Program. Well gentlemen, let me tell you. There is only one way to do that: don’t tell anyone what you’ve discovered. Not even marketing. Just prepare all your documents and have your guys in engineering present it to the top people at NASA as soon as possible.”

“Wow,” said Cliff to Barbara. “I love you. Give that little girl another drink!”

Ralph agreed. “Now I know why you showed up here at Dean’s, Barbara. It was your beautiful disclosure.”

Holding up my drink, I said, “Barbara, we salute you.”

And Billy, don’t forget I know some of that Alien stuff leaked out of the Tank and into your desk drawer. After a twenty minute rain dance on all our advanced concepts, in walked Jessica who had been spying, as usual, hanging on the door. She was wearing a white summer uniform of the day.

“Billy, I am surprised; you should know better. Didn’t you ever question why OUR SECTION IS THE ONLY ONE in engineering TO HAVE AN a ATTORNEY? A Patent Attorney; THAT’S FOR INVENTIONS?

“Smiley over there. Mr. Malone. Look at his halo; so innocent. He has nine women working fourteen hours a day trying to keep up with all the ALIEN STUFF YOU GUYS ARE REVERSING EVERY WEEK. Even Ralph really does not know who he is really working for. Right, Ralphie?”

“Well yes, Jessica; but Bill has known all along. I know he has known.” Then I interrupted,

“Jessica just lives for these big dramas, rolling her eyes.”

next

FOUNDATIONS FOR THE BROCHURE


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