Chapter 1

(The Escape)

 

As soon as the security shield deployed and the conference room was completely isolated from the outside world, President Thompson said, "Okay, what's so damn important that we had to meet here in the Top Secret, glass room with the fog for this briefing? I hate this room."

Mr. Canton, the president's National Security Advisor, said, "Something happened that needs to be reported that is classified far above Top Secret, involving matters only you and a select few are authorized to know."

The president's face wrinkled in frustration and he said, "For Pete's sake, Tom. What is the subject?" said the president.

"It involves the Star Children Project."

The president's face froze and his eyes bulged at the mention of the project name. He jumped to his feet and blurted, "Clear the room! I want only the directors of the CIA, FBI and NSA to remain. All others leave."

The president, normally intimidating anyway, but suddenly standing to his lean, straight 6' 3" height, combined with his obviously stressed demeanor, radiated the impression he was not to be fucked with, and they should comply immediately.

He continued, "This involves 'Need to Know', and you others don't need to know at this point." No one argued, although the Secretary of State seemed to pause slightly before getting up to leave. But, one look at the president was all it took to know this was not the time to debate over protocol.

When only the five of them remained and the security shield re-established, President Thompson said, "Okay, Tom ... continue."

NSA Canton said, "There has been an accident reported at Area 51. The dormitory where the Star Children were being housed blew up, killing them all."

President Thompson personally picked and appointed NSA Canton to his position. Tom was not physically impressive in stature, being bald, short and plump; but the president trusted him implicitly. If NSA Canton said something was so, then he believed him.

"All of them?" asked the president.

"There are 151 confirmed dead out of 157. It seems four were scheduled to arrive but never showed up, and one had already left. No additional information is available."

The president's hands shook with obvious emotion as he said, "Damn, they were children! Most were around ten years old as I remember."

FBI Director Setliff coughed to gain their attention, then said, "Sir, I don't know anything about the Star Children Project Can I be brought up to speed?"

"Harry, ... sorry, I mean Dir. Setliff, we will get you up to speed. We will need some of that investigative intellect of yours I'm sure. That's why I want you involved."

Director Setliff's actual name was Jack. Harry was a nickname Dir. Setliff's ex-wife gave him years ago, because, according to her, he looked like Clint Eastwood, tall and lean. She called him "Dirty Harry", and the name stuck among those who knew him well, which is one reason she became his Ex.

Tom said, "With your permission, Sir." The president nodded. "Well, where to start? I'm sure you know about Area 51, the secret, government facility that everyone seems to know about. Yes, there is a recovered alien flying saucer there, and we have been reverse engineering their technology for decades. What you may not know is that we are also supporting a colony of live aliens there as well. We call them 'Greys' for obvious reasons if you ever saw one. Well, these Greys are, we believe, the same aliens from the crashed ship. They are supposed to be helping us with that technology. Anyway, the Greys convinced those in control at the time that they had also been doing genetic engineering on humans and asked for our help in finding them and housing them at Area 51 so the Greys could educate the modified humans in their new abilities. The last administration agreed and named the project 'Star Children'. You are more involved than you know. The mandatory DNA database for school children, which you administer, has been locating these genetically modified children for years and delivering them to Area 51."

The president's tight expression refocused and he interrupted and asked, "How many Greys were killed in this, so-called, accident?"

"None were reported, Sir."

The president continued, "I smell a rat!" The presidents bear paws clinched and slammed down on the conference table, startling all. "I think we have been duped. I never trusted the skinny bastards. They give us some technology, but it is like pulling teeth to get it. So far every administration has been afraid of them, because of their advanced technology. But, that ends with them killing children under our watch. Of course, we probably won't be able to prove that, and we don't want to start a war with an alien race we know nothing about. Still, it's becoming obvious we have done their work for them by gathering the children together where they could be eliminated."

"The question we should be asking ourselves is: WHY? What mysterious abilities do these Star Children have that frightens the Greys enough to execute them, which is apparently what they did? But, if the Greys didn't modify the human genes, who did ... and why? There are a lot of questions that need to be answered, but our first priority is to save those surviving Star Children we know about and any others that may exist. We need to know more about them. Director Setliff, you're charged with finding those yet to be identified. Director Jones, NSA is charged with finding, saving and protecting those missing children. Director Martinez, the CIA will help the others and house and protect any Star Children found at Langley."

***

At the age of sixteen armed government agents seized Tom Bradley from an Oklahoma orphanage where he lived for as long as he could remember. Terrified, he didn't know what he had done to be treated like a criminal, and after three year he still had no idea. The agents thrust him into what they called a school for Star Children, a name that was never explained. But in reality, the school felt like a prison would probably feel, the worst kind. The children were confined, and there were armed guards everywhere. The complex itself had many layers of locked fences and state-of-the-art security. School? Right.

There were other children there, but they were much younger. He was the oldest by far, and he had no real peer friends. He felt alone and isolated and without hope. His life at the orphanage had been bad enough, but forced imprisonment at the school was far worse.

Living without parents and love had taught Tom to be self-reliant and to depend upon himself. He had to grow up fast. Still, when he was plucked from an already bad life and thrown into something totally alien, he depended upon himself and his own judgment.

To make matters worse, many of his instructors were actually aliens, which he knew nothing about. He didn't know where they came from or why they were there, and no one would tell him. Tom had to fight the fears that gripped him and rely upon himself even more to survive.

At nineteen now, Tom had survived at the school for three years. He simply endured the first two years, but this last year he had grown increasingly uncomfortable, due to his escalating ability to sense thoughts and images from those around him, especially the aliens.

Tom Bradley saw the disaster coming. To be more precise, he sensed it in the minds of the aliens interfacing and instructing the children. The aliens' hostility toward the children was not visible to anyone else, especially to the adult human supervisors and attendants, but it was there, and he alone sensed it. It hovered just under the surface and was reaching a dangerous level.

He began to sense more from the aliens. Hostility and hate radiated out from the aliens' minds and invaded his. His ability to sense the underlining emotions of the aliens was increasing, and it was disturbing.

The aliens instructed the Star Children, but he sensed their real purpose was to observe the children and discourage any abstract thought. They taught the children to resist abstract thought as if it was something bad. They wanted the children molded into fixed patterns of behavior, and he sensed the purpose was to stifle their mental growth. He didn't know why.

As he began to understand their hidden purpose, he became determined to do the opposite ... secretly. When the Greys instructed the children not to allow their minds to control their bodies, he sought to search his mind to discover how to let it loose to control his body. When they told him to resist his mind's control, he opened it. Of course, he experimented in silence and secretly, mostly during the sleeping hours. The startling discoveries came slowly. He had already accepted the fact that his ability to feel the alien's emotions was one such ability, but his second discovery came suddenly and surprising.

One late night he let his mind free to search itself. He felt unusually calm and let his mind take him soaring into the sky. This fantasy of defying gravity and floating and flying comes to most children, and it now came to Tom. He allowed this abstract thought to grow and willed his body to ignore the force of gravity and rise up. When his face hit the ceiling, he jerked awake. With his concentration broken, he fell back to his bed with a hard thump and a sharp pain, which he ignored. The impossibility of this action made his mind reel, but he could not control the grin that spread across his face with the realization of what he had done. His mind overcame gravity!

Over the next month, he continued to experiment. He learned how to become weightless and float at will. When his body became free of gravity's control, he felt intoxicated and his mind whirled as he explored the fantasy that was now real. He had no restraint or pressure on his body. Being weightless was almost like floating in a pool of water but better. He never felt so free.

In water he would have been able to pull, push and kick against the water to move through it. Moving through weightlessness required altering gravity's direction to push his weightless body in any direction he wished. With practice it got easier and soon he began to master the ability. When all were sleeping he would experiment and quickly realized that his discovery was much more than just ignoring gravity, it was redirecting gravity. Gravity became a tool for him to use to lift, push, pull and manipulate. He could float through it, rise and fall with it and even direct gravity of other objects. He became gravity and its master.

With this discovery Tom's excitement soared like those eagles he fantasied, realizing that he had found his way to escape the prison. He could simply fly over the barricades and security.

Now a decision needed to be made when to escape and what to do once he did. Tom grew up in an orphanage, effectively without anyone close. He had always been alone and depended on himself. So, he had no family to help him financially. The only thing he had to offer was his newfound ability or gift. He had never heard of anyone having this ability. Maybe this might be useful to a scientist, maybe at a university. He thought they would want to study him and maybe help him to understand it better. Possibly they would even pay to study him.

Once he had this tentative plan of action, all that was left to do was decide when to escape. The aliens made that decision for him.

Through his increasingly heightened ability to interpret the aliens' emotions, images began to emerge. When they spoke together in their guttural language he began to understand some of their communication through these radiated and intercepted images. The hatred and, yes, fear became more pronounced, but he also saw their intent to destroy the children after the next Star Children delivery, which would apparently be in two days. His escape must be before this delivery. So, his escape must be tomorrow night.

There was nothing he could do to save the other children and couldn't bring himself to see or be around them. Every time he did, tears formed in his eyes. He was the oldest of the group, with most being far younger, too young and innocent to teach them how to fly and heavily indoctrinated by the Aliens. It was just him, and he could not fight the aliens and guards. Sadly, the others must be abandoned if he hoped to survive, and his self-preservation instincts were undeniably strong. He must survive, that rule was chiseled into his DNA. But, maybe, just maybe, he could save those Star Children en route.

***

The last few days of Sue Chamber's life seemed like a nightmare. Nothing had gone well. In fact, everything went wrong. Sue was with her third set of foster care parents and reasonably happy, considering, when a knock at the door abruptly changed her life.

A man introduced himself as Agent Black with the National Security Agency. He never spoke to her, only to her guardians, "Sue Chambers needs to come with me. It is a matter of national security." Additional conversations with her foster guardians ensued, but little information was forthcoming. She could detect little from his demeanor or thoughts, and she had always been good at that. She realized that the agent probably knew nothing more, he was simply sent to get her. Agent Black presented all the right credentials and necessary paperwork, and her foster guardians weren't about to jeopardize their income. They helped her pack, wished her well and turned her over to the agent.

Sue shook with rage. She hoped her foster parents would fight for her, but no effort surfaced to look after her. As they were leaving Sue anger got the best of her. She turned and said, "That's it? Bye and good luck? After two years and that's what I get? Well, you can kiss my ass." They hung their heads in shame but said nothing further. The release of the built up tension soothed her stress. Oh well, they weren't that helpful, anyway.

Sue's body shook and quivered but fought back her tears. She was only seventeen and not of legal age. She felt like a grown, mature woman, but she had no legal rights. The State of Arizona was her official legal guardian, and they gave her over to the federal government. She still had no idea why, and those few she met afterward would only say that it would all be explained to her soon.

She was transported to, the road sign said, Phoenix, to a dormitory facility without windows. Her room had no inside knobs on the door, only key slots on the inside, with no way to leave. Sue sensed no hostility nor friendship either. All she could do was wait ... alone. Sue hugged her shaking body and tried to understand, without success, what was happening to her.

After two days of living with silence and fear, four more children joined her. They were younger, but they were like her, at least they seemed as lost and frightened, and they were also all blond with green eyes ... like her. It didn't seem to add up how they could all look so much alike physically, it felt like they were somehow related. Also like her they all carried their life's possessions in a suitcase. There were two boys and one girl all about fifteen or sixteen years old, and one frightened little girl of about ten. Sue's heart went out to the tearful, little girl and beckoned her and took charge of her immediately. The little girl clutched her in a tight, bear hug.

After a moment of comfort, Sue asked, "What's your name?"

The little girl kept her arms tightly wrapped around Sue but looked up at her and said, "My name is Tina." Her voice quivered but came out clearly.

Sue said, "Tina, don't be afraid. I will take care of you. I don't know what is going on either, but you just stick with me. We'll face it together." In response Tina hugged her tighter.

The older children were named Fred, Jerry and Mary. Jerry and Mary looked typical for growing teenagers. They both had short hair, just as white as hers, but Fred's hair was longer and somewhat spiked in a goth style. White hair? Well, some of it was, but each side was dyed or painted. One side was orange and the other side blue. Sue assumed he was what was referred to as a punk rocker. He even had gothic spikes in his earlobes, the kind that required stretching a hole for them. Sue wondered why someone would endure the pain required.

They talked and none of them knew why they were here. Strangely, all came from various orphanages across the country with no memory of their parents.

As they continued to talk and learn about each other, an elderly lady, maybe sixty, entered, pushing a cart loaded down with food and drinks. The lady was of medium height and weight, with large, bouncy breasts and a slightly protruding butt. Her short, brown hair was liberally laced with grey. Sue sensed her friendly attitude and liked her immediately.

The lady cheerfully said, "Hello children. I'm Mrs. Wilks, and I will be your attendant until you reach your final destination. I'm sure you have no idea what is happening to you. I don't know a lot about your situation either, but I will try to help."

Being the oldest and practically grown, Sue assumed the spokesperson's role and asked, "Can you tell us why we are here?"

Mrs. Wilks proceeded to set the food and drinks on a table and motioned them to begin eating as she spoke, "As I understand, this is temporary. I was just assigned, so that's why no one has spoken to you. In fact, we will be leaving in the morning going to another location, a special school, as I understand. I will be traveling with you to take care of your needs."

Sue interrupted saying, "What do you mean by 'Special School'?"

"It has something to do with the mandatory DNA test administered through the school health program." When she received blank stares she continued, "A DNA test comes with the mandatory immunization shots you received in school. It's a test to identify certain genes that might indicate a future health problem or exceptional skills, which you all evidently have. At any rate, the special school is set up to teach those with these special genes."

Sue asked, "What will they be teaching us?"

"Sweetie, I have no idea. I'm sure the school can better explain it when we get there, but the genes you kids apparently have are extremely rare. I expect what you will be taught must also be rare and probably very important to the government."

"Where will we be going?"

"Again, I have no idea. The location is secret. They won't even tell me."

"Why are we locked in?"

Mrs. Wilks smiled and said, "Honey, this is a guarded government detention center. It wasn't designed for the likes of you children. You need to remain inside for your own protection. There are undesirables here. Sorry, if you feel like prisoners, but we will be out of here tomorrow."

Sue detected no deceit and believed her, and, for the first time since this nightmare began, the tenseness of her muscles began to relax, and she began to feel hopeful, even somewhat excited about the future possibilities.

They each had a room in this section, but Tina wasn't about to be separated from Sue. Tina eventually calmed and cuddled against her through the night. Feeling Tina's warm body pressed against her in need, helped Sue to also remain calm.

After the morning meal, Mrs. Wilks escorted them into a huge parking lot to a small, yellow school bus. The fact that they were going to a special school in a school bus gave credence to what she had heard. There were packed lunches, water and drinks in a cooler on the bus, so Sue assumed the trip would be a long one.

For some reason, she wanted to know their destination and decided to memorize the route. The driver, also an armed guard, took Hwy. 60 NW out of Phoenix straight out into the desert. The density of towns dwindled the farther they went until there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to see but flat sandy land dotted with sparse and scrub sage bushes. The road was straight as an arrow and narrowed into a barely visible line in the far distance that finely disappeared into a churning sea of hot air. The never-ending road seemed hypnotic, but Sue forced herself to remain awake, so she wouldn't miss any of the route.

They continued on Hwy. 93 all the way to Las Vegas, at least the sign read, "Welcome to Las Vegas". Sue welcomed the change of scenery, hoping the trip was over. She thought Las Vegas would be a great location for a specialized school, but they didn't stop there. They continued on Hwy. 93 out into the middle of nowhere and back to the boring view and heat.

The bus had air-conditioning, but it failed to lower the temperature enough and the driver's body odor permeated the enclosed air. The kids early on reverted to opening the windows, finding the outside air easier to tolerate.

There were many more miles of nothing to see, but eventually they turned west on Hwy. 375 into an even more remote and desolate area. She didn't think that was possible, but she was mistaken. Wherever this school was, it was certainly isolated and remote, and she was becoming concerned. This was not good, and she didn't like it one bit.