Alternative 3, p.27
Alternative 3, page 27
Curtis remembered Jim mentioning that Area 51 was also referred to as Groom Lake. Jackpot. He opened the file and looked inside. There seemed to be a vast number of electrical systems emergency manuals. He scanned through each of them. It wasn’t until he was working his way through the fifth manual that he found something useful. A remarkably detailed amount of information on the base procedures in the event of an electrical failure. They were computer-controlled systems, with a separate backup, and a manual override backup behind that. But what interested Curtis most was the documentation outlining who should do what in the event they lost power.
Curtis looked through the documentation for a reference to the outer buildings. He wanted something close to the border. He found the topside maintenance supervisor. The information was accompanied by handy diagrams showing where the supervisor’s office was — near the perimeter of the base — and where the emergency power control substation was. It looked like it was about two minutes walk from the office. The manual detailed a number of actions and tests the supervisor had to perform in the event of an outage. Maybe five to ten minutes worth of tests. It was enough. Just. Curtis memorised the diagrams, making note of the location of the supervisor’s office. That was most likely where his network connection would be. He saved all the manuals he could find to the desktop of Sam’s lappie.
The next thing Curtis looked for was any information on the base’s power supply. Chances were that if it was computer-controlled, there might a remote access from GE&S. That way they could do network maintenance without needing to visit the base — usual practice for a high-security facility. Curtis searched through the network for any clue to an access number or drive. There was nothing. But he did find some drives that his current profile didn’t have high enough security to access. Curtis went back through the list of names until he found one with a suitably impressive title. Soon he had access on the profile, the password driver programme getting him in instantly. He found a Remote System Maintenance Connection and brought up the access code to Groom Lake. This was it. He wrote down the information he needed to access this connection again, and logged off. There wasn’t much more he could do now until dark. He just hoped the Odd Squad were going to come up with something useful. He was just closing down when Maggie came in again. She carried a tray with a plate of hot food and a coffee.
‘Thought you might want a bite to eat,’ she said. Curtis looked up at the food, and as he caught the aroma his stomach cartwheeled. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was.
‘Thanks Maggie. You’re a sweetheart.’ She placed the food down on the bed.
‘Funny . . . that’s what Jim used to say.’ Curtis realised that Maggie and Jim must have had a thing for each other. No wonder she was so keen to help. ‘Anything else you need?’ she said, going back out the door.
‘Just a few hours’ sleep,’ said Curtis. ‘Can you wake me at six?’
Maggie nodded as she closed the door. ‘You get some sleep. I’ll wake you.’
Curtis eyed the food she had left him. It sure looked appetising. He made sure the door was locked before he sat down to eat, and in seconds it was gone. He sipped on the coffee and thought about what he was going to do tonight, but was too tired to think clearly. He needed to push it out of his brain for a while, and get some z’s. As he lay on the bed with the curtains pulled, his mind went back to Gina. He was still thinking about her when he fell asleep.
The gentle knock on the motel room door woke him. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. The motel. Room three. The knock came again. This time Curtis got up and stood behind it.
‘Who is it?’ he said.
‘Curtis, it’s Maggie.’ He opened the door. ‘Did you get some sleep?’
Curtis rubbed his eyes. ‘Yeah . . . a bit.’
‘Come out to the kitchen when you’re ready,’ she said. ‘We’ve got something to show you. She looked pretty pleased with herself.
‘Yeah, OK . . . thanks,’ said Curtis. He closed the door and took a quick shower, but it did little to shake the weariness. He hid his things under the bed and tidied up. It wasn’t his normal practice to be so houseproud, but he figured the less evidence there was of his presence, the better for Maggie. Especially if the Cammos called again. He examined himself in the mirror. He looked tired, like he’d lost weight. But his eyes were crystal clear, just as he was, about how far he might have to go to get some answers. No doubt about that. For Turk. Curtis ran his hand through his hair and looked at his watch. 6.15. Time to party.
Maggie was waiting for him in the kitchen. The diner was busier now, but he couldn’t see any sign of his three fellow conspirators. Maggie waved him out another door, and took him across the road to a house. She headed towards an old makeshift aluminium garage. The lights were on inside. She took him round the back and in through a door, where he found Al, Rita and the Dweeb standing over some sort of contraption in the middle of the garage floor. There were papers and plans strewn over a workbench behind them.
‘You guys been busy?’ said Curtis, closing the door.
The Dweeb was beside himself with excitement. ‘Have we got something for you!’
Al wiped his hands on a cloth and threw it on the bench. ‘It might not be conventional,’ he said, ‘but you’ve got yourself some transport.’ Curtis checked out the bizarre-looking, three-wheeled go-kart contraption in the middle of the garage. He had to admit, it looked intriguing.
‘OK, let’s see what you got,’ he said, perching on the end of the workbench. He could see the pride in their eyes. They were obviously pleased with the result of their afternoon’s work. Must have been a nice little team effort. Al couldn’t have been more Al-like if he tried, as he explained the brilliance behind their DIY penetration vehicle.
‘We had some limitations to work within . . . the composition and weight of the materials, the height and speed of the vehicle, and of course, stealth properties.’
Curtis almost smiled. ‘Stealth properties?’ Al nodded.
So did the Dweeb. ‘Yeah, man! This is something that fits between the cracks! You know what I mean?’
This time Curtis did smile. ‘OK, maybe you better give me the dummies’ version. What does it do?’
Al continued. ‘Well basically we have a golf-cart chassis —’
‘Hold on — a golf cart? Out here?’
‘Came with the motel.’ That was Maggie. ‘Old guy who ran the place was a golf nut — even had plans for a nine hole course out in the desert. I use it to deliver the linen and room service. Don’t worry, it’s going to a good cause.’
Curtis couldn’t help but shake his head at their ingenuity as Al got back into the spec-talk.
‘It’s low weight, with a non-metallic body and it’s electrically powered,’ All continued. ‘So it’s silent,’ he added helpfully.
Curtis nodded. ‘OK, got that.’
‘We trashed the body and made a new one that will hold you lying down, to keep you under the opticals.’ Curtis realised the tangle of pipes and canvas was a seat. He would basically be luging in this thing.
‘We welded together, thanks to Vaughn here,’ Al dipped his head to the Dweeb, ‘aluminium pipes, around which we wrapped black canvas, which will hold you in position.’ Yep, a luge, thought Curtis. Great.
But Al wasn’t finished. ‘We’ve also removed the two front wheels and welded the axles onto the support for the single wheel in front. The tyres were too small for our purposes. So we trashed them as well and installed mountain-bike wheels. Except for the front wheel — that’s a high-pressure racing wheel. Very light and very hard. Vaughn had a whole heap of bike parts in his van.’
‘How do I steer?’ said Curtis.
‘With your feet,’ said Al, pointing to the two foot pedals either side of the front wheel. The accelerator is down here.’ He pointed to small lever down the side. The contraption was basically an aluminium and canvas hammock with an electric engine underneath it, on bike wheels. It did look mean though. Every component had been sprayed black.
‘OK,’ he said, running through things in his mind, ‘so it’s small enough not to set off the motion sensors, and it’s low enough not to set off the optical sensors . . . what about the ammonia sensors? And don’t forget it’s going to be pitch-black out there. If this thing goes too fast I’m gonna end up face-planting.’
‘We thought of that,’ said the Dweeb. ‘Rita came up with the answer right away, and we couldn’t think of anything that would work better.’
‘Well, what is it?’ Curtis could sense that he was about to experience the masterstroke.
‘A wetsuit!’ said the Dweeb, lifting up a black neoprene bodysuit. Of course. A wetsuit. The Dweeb must have picked up Curtis’s scepticism. ‘It’ll be cold out there, so you won’t need to wear much else. Covers your whole body, and even has a hood and booties.’
‘You mean one of you actually bought a wetsuit all the way out here into the desert?’
The Dweeb nodded proudly. ‘I scuba dive, man!’ Curtis shook his head in wonder. These people were almost as surreal as everything else that had happened to him over the last couple of days.
‘But this isn’t just any wetsuit,’ said Rita. ‘This one will be lined on the outside with tinfoil, and then painted over black.’
Curtis understood instantly. ‘Infrared cameras. Body heat,’ he said. ‘OK, what about vision?’ They all looked over at Maggie. As Curtis turned to look at her, she held up a set of night-vision goggles.
‘Maggie,’ said Curtis in mock surprise. ‘Are they yours?’
Maggie nodded, somewhat embarrassed. ‘Jim and I used to go on night hikes together.’
‘I can’t imagine where to . . .’ said Curtis. He looked at the butchered golf cart on bike wheels. Then he looked at the Dweeb’s scuba suit. Finally he looked at Maggie, still holding up her garden-variety night-vision goggles. This might just be crazy enough to work. Not that he had any other options.
‘All right,’ he said finally, ‘I’ll give it a go.’ The Dweeb, Al, Rita and Maggie looked so excited Curtis thought they were going to burst. They were like proud parents getting the thumbs up on their baby.
‘I’ll need to take it for a practice run after dark,’ said Curtis. ‘Let’s meet back here at nine. I can fill you in on the plan over dinner in my room if you want to join me.’ They nodded in agreement. ‘You guys have done an amazing job — if it works! I’m blown away. Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome,’ said Rita. Al and the Dweeb — Vaughn — beamed with pride.
‘OK, I’m in room three. This is it, people. I’ll see you there soon.’
Curtis walked back to the motel with Maggie, leaving them to finish tweaking their baby.
‘You sure you’re up to this?’ she said as they closed the garage door behind them.
‘No, I’m not,’ said Curtis. ‘But it’s the only option left. It has to work.’
‘You be careful, Curtis,’ said Maggie. ‘I don’t know what you’re up to, but I don’t want to lose another customer. It’s really bad for business.’
Curtis smiled. ‘Yeah, you must have a whole cupboard full of beans waiting to be eaten. Maybe I should have some tonight. Just to keep the snakes away!’
Maggie smiled for the first time since Jim’s death. But deep down Curtis knew he could be next. If he gave them the chance. And he had no intention of doing that at all. No way.
Curtis had time to rearrange the motel room to accommodate his visitors, and Maggie brought in some extra chairs. Eventually the group arrived, and judging by the armfuls of equipment they carried, they’d been busy preparing for the night’s adventures. Al and the Dweeb turned up carrying a whole bunch of electrical equipment. Rita came in carrying rolls of tinfoil and several bottles of spray-on deodorant anti-perspirant.
‘Figured we may as well set up your room as our HQ,’ said Al apologetically. Made sense, Curtis figured. What the hell. Maybe including them in on the plan had been his stroke of genius. They were clearly very smart people. Unorthodox, yes, but there was no questioning their enthusiasm or commitment. They were here for business. Just like Curtis.
‘What the hell have you guys got there?’ said Curtis.
‘Radio gear mainly, and a few scanners and sensors,’ said Al, dropping them onto the bed. ‘We raided Jim’s trailer a while back. Figured he wouldn’t mind the stuff going to a good cause.’
‘OK,’ said Curtis. ‘Maggie will be in with some food soon. Let’s get started, shall we?’
Soon they were all seated around the tiny table in the centre of the room, discussing the plan of attack. They questioned every aspect of Curtis’s plan — much of which he was making up as he went along — not that he told them that. But it was worth the effort. By the time 9 p.m. rolled around, they all knew exactly what they had to do, and what would happen if any of the huge number of what-ifs they’d gone through ever eventuated. Curtis was satisfied it was the best plan he’d be likely to come up with. This was it. Show time.
‘Let’s go and test this thing,’ said Curtis, getting up and stretching. He could tell they were nearly as tired as he was and, he had to admit, they’d put everything into helping him. He realised he’d been way too quick to judge these people back in Jim’s pick-up. What he’d written off as their paranoid speculation was turning into reality before his eyes. Curtis could never have imagined that Alternative 3 was more than something concocted by a demented mind. He was having trouble believing it himself. But he had seen the proof. Even the FBI were investigating it. It was time for people to know. Curtis was going to blow the whole thing so far out of the water they wouldn’t know what hit them.
15
The practice was a complete disaster. They’d wheeled the cart down a side street to the edge of the desert without using any light in case they got snapped by a satellite. Al reckoned he could see to adjust anything using some special black light he’d picked up somewhere. Goodness knows what he’d bought it for. But it was lucky he had because once Curtis was buckled in he slid the throttle up and the cart bounced forward so hard it slammed straight into a tree, the front wheel riding up and making the cart flip backwards, end over end. And Curtis ass over tit. Al and the Dweeb rushed over, as Rita stood watching in the distance. They helped to unbuckle him, and he helped them as they heaved the cart back on its wheels.
‘Nothing wrong with the gas,’ said Curtis. ‘Not sure about the steering, though.’ Al was looking at the cart like he’d hurt a friend.
‘This is a fragile structure, Curtis,’ he said. ‘It’s made for speed, not strength. Give us a few moments, will you, and we’ll try again.’
Curtis stood watching as Al and the Dweeb got stuck into the motor. They were in fix-it heaven. Rita got sick of watching, and went back inside. After a while Curtis started feeling like a spectator too.
‘Hey, I need to go get ready,’ he said. ‘Is it fixable?’
Al wore a grave face. ‘It’ll be ready. You get suited up.’
Curtis waved and left them in the dark. When he got back to the motel room, he found Rita using Sam’s laptop. She looked embarrassed when Curtis entered.
‘I’m sorry . . .’ she said. ‘I was just reading the manuals. Thought it would be more use than standing out there in the dark.’ Curtis looked at the screen. She’d been reading the manuals Curtis had downloaded from GE&S. He’d meant to read them, but had run out of time.
‘Anything useful?’ he asked, taking the wetsuit off its hanger on the window curtain-rod.
‘Plenty,’ said Rita. ‘This is very detailed information. Where did you get it?’
Curtis just smiled. ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you.’ The look in Rita’s eyes said she didn’t find that all too funny.
‘Or are you just trying to kill yourself?’
Curtis did a double take on that one. ‘What do you mean by that?’
It was Rita’s turn to shrug. ‘Either you’re crazier than the rest of us, or you’re very brave and noble. Which is it? Why are you doing this?’
Curtis stopped and looked at her. ‘You guys think I’m crazy? Now that’s one for the record!’
Rita held his gaze. ‘Whatever the reason, Curtis, it’s not worth your life. Don’t take risks out there. This isn’t a game.’
‘I know,’ he said. Curtis was a little dumbfounded at first, but he soon made up ground. ‘Rita, look, I’ve never had someone close to me die before. Not like that. It’s for them. I don’t care about all that Alternative 3 shit. They’re all bastards as far as I’m concerned . . .’
He was getting on a roll, when Al appeared with the Dweeb in tow effectively ending the conversation. ‘Hey, we’re smokin’!’ said the Dweeb.
Curtis picked up the suit and went into the bathroom. He left Rita reading the manuals as Al and the Dweeb nanoo-nanooed to each other over the radio gear. When he’d closed the door, he stripped in front of the mirror. His body looked like he felt. Shit. He picked up one of the sprays Rita had brought in. It was some sort of extra-strength odourless stuff. Some people must be really serious about body odour. He sprayed his body from head to foot, the spray stinging cold on his skin. Then he climbed into the wetsuit, amazed at how much effort it took to put on. But it fit well enough. Next he put on the booties and the hood. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but laugh. Turk had always been the crazy one, but now here he was, dressed from head to foot in a wetsuit, at night, in a motel in the middle of the desert. And it wasn’t fancy dress. Yep, he thought, and who was the crazy one now?
When he went back out into the room, he found Rita had been busy preparing the tinfoil. She wrapped the foil around his legs, torso, arms and head, holding it in place with seams of duct tape, like a tailor. If he didn’t look enough like an alien before, he sure as hell did now. Even Rita found it funny. He put on an old robe and slippers, and a wig over his head that Maggie had magically pulled from nowhere. Curtis had to wonder about that woman. Then they walked him over to the garage. It must have made a great sight for the satellite cameras. ET meets Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. When they were inside, the Dweeb started shaking two cans of spraypaint and walking towards Curtis with intent.
