Chapter 6
Dr. Langford was not good at waiting. While he was always happy to have time for his thoughts, actively sitting around with them was something he didn't quite enjoy. Sitting in the hallway chair, he drummed his fingers against the side of his briefcase and waited some more. It didn't help that his nerves were showing a bit; this meeting would be critical to the program.
He'd started the project with permission from President Roosevelt; most of the early equipment and contributions were items that the president had authorized to program via executive orders, and once things started to pick up, more and more resources were allocated accordingly via several more such orders. It helped that, with the war, shifting some supplies around the nation hadn't been too difficult. In addition, the setup allowed the chain of supply to remain relatively uncomplicated and straightforward; Langford would send a message to the president, and results would happen. It had been a good system, and one he'd enjoyed.
Sadly, Roosevelt had passed away two days prior.
Professor Paul Langford was disappointed by the fact that the uncomplicated method of acquiring supplies for his program was gone, but, more importantly, he was saddened that a good friend, and one who had shared many professional and academic interests, was now gone. He'd mourned for his friend, and the base, as well as Heliopolis (as many were calling it now, in keeping with the know name that once been used as the place's title), had had a day of mourning to honor the president.
Paul had received the call that he knew was coming several hours after Franklin's death. The new president was calling him in to explain what exactly was going on in the warehouse. The meeting had been put off for a day to allow the president to get brought up to speed on a number of other programs and plans that were apparently considered a good deal more important and at least as classified and restricted access as the Stargate. In that time, Paul had prepared a small film reel detailing several of the main discoveries made on the base and on Heliopolis (the techs had gotten a wireless transmitter up and running, so limited video feeds could be sent back and recorded for posterity). He had the documents and various proposals in the briefcase as well. He hoped that it would be enough. It had to be.
He returned to drumming his fingers on the briefcase as he continued to wait. A secretary was busy typing away at her desk, glancing up periodically and smiling, as though to reassure Paul that everything would be all right. After several more minutes, the phone at her desk rang. Without skipping a beat, she picked it up: "Yes?… Okay, I'll send him in, Mr. President." Looking to Paul, she set the phone down and smiled once more. "The President will see you now, Dr. Langford."
Nodding, Paul stood up and walked to the heavy oak door. Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and entered the Oval Office. Harry Truman was sitting at his desk, several papers in front of him, with maps and details and equations Paul didn't know about. Standing next to Truman were General George Marshall and Secretary of War Henry Stimson. Seeing Paul enter, the president deftly collected the papers and arranged them in a neat stack to the side.
"…We'll discuss the device and testing later, thank you for getting me caught up. Now to this next matter." Standing up, the president extended his hand as Paul approached the desk. "Dr. Langford, thank you for coming in. Sorry the meeting got pushed back; I had a lot of catching up to do … and a lot of big shoes to fill."
"I understand, Mr. President." Paul said, taking Truman's hand and returning two quick shakes before sitting. "I'm just happy I was brought in to bring you up to speed on my program."
"Ah, yes, let's get right down to business then. George has been telling me that one of our airborne divisions has been getting rerouted back here, and that several million dollars' worth of supplies have been shifted over to your program … which according to our records doesn't officially exist. I wanted George and Henry here so that everything could be explained more thoroughly. Doctor, would you please enlighten us as to what's going on?"
Nodding, Paul set his briefcase down and opened it. He extracted the film reel and set it down. "Certainly. Would you mind if I borrowed a film projector?"
"No problem." The president said, motioning to his guards. One of them opened a door and wheeled out a small projector on a pedestal, while the other guard dimmed the lights. Paul hooked the reel up and positioned the project so that it projected against the far wall. Paul waited several seconds for it to warm up before it started, first with a shot of the inactive gate in the warehouse.
"Two decades ago, in 1928, myself and a small archeology team discovered this ring-shaped artifact in Giza, Egypt. We had no clue what it was or what the markings on it signified. We've spent many years trying to figure out what it does." The reel began to show the gate technicians attaching cords and rotating the ring. "We could move the inner symbols, but had no idea what it would do. During a random test, we noticed that it would respond to large quantities of power, so we began to hook up generators to it to see what would happen. This went on for a while, our random input of symbols, until earlier this year." The reel shifted to the day when they activated the gate. The seventh symbol locked, and the gate activated, sending out the large wave of energy before retreating and forming a tranquil pool in the gate's center.
The president's eyebrow raised slightly, but none of the men said anything. Paul continued as the reel showed Ernest suiting up in the diving gear and preparing to step through. "My future son-in-law, Doctor Ernest Littlefield, volunteered to go through. Once he stepped beyond the gate… he was transported to another world, and I mean that in the literal sense. The device, now definitively alien in origin, sent him to another planet, a fact he ascertained by the absence of the moon and any known constellations at his location.
The reel cut to the interior of Heliopolis. Several soldiers were milling about. Then the control room, with the strange, illuminated panels, and then again to the light projector room, in its active state, with one scientist moving amongst the swirling shapes.
"For almost a month now, we've been establishing some form of operations on Heliopolis, the name we've given the planet. For the most part, at first, it was just Ernest, unable to return, exploring the location. At the start of the month, though, we sent the first of several groups through the gate. Scientist, technicians, linguists, and soldiers…"
The reel cut to its final few moments, the part Langford considered most important: the makeshift probe's video feed shortly before its destruction. Paul heard several sharp intakes of breath when the creature with the staff shot several bolts of light at the camera before it cut off.
"While Ernest tried to reconnect with earth, dialing blindly much as we had, he found a second gate address. We sent a small cart with a camera and transmitter through. That's what was on the other side. That's why we've been appropriating military resources for the project and 'borrowing' one of the airborne divisions." Paul explained as he disconnected the reel from the camera and placed it in its tin before setting it down on the president's desk. The three men were staring at Paul, all three quite serious, but with a hint of surprise behind their eyes. Paul decided to give them a moment or two to soak up the information and process it.
The President removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose for several seconds before taking a breath and replacing his glasses. Speaking slowly, he looked at Paul. "So, professor, what you're telling me is that the United States is in possession of an ancient alien device capable of sending people across the stars to other planets?"
"That's correct, Mr. President, though I suspect that Roosevelt left you some notes about it."
"He did. His note under you and your project simply said Hold onto your pants, Harry, this one's a doozy. Well … looks like he was right." Pausing for several more seconds, he looked to his two advisors, and then to Paul.
"Well, first things first. The security implications. What the hell was that thing we saw in the film that shot those blasts at the camera?"
"Currently, we don't know with absolute certainty, but we suspect that that particular alien individual might be some kind of soldier or servant of Ra or another god." Paul said, and then silently kicked himself for having forgotten to mention their alien god theory.
"What?" All three men exclaimed before the president spoke again. "Doctor Langford, are you telling me not only are the ancient Egyptian gods real, but they're hostile?!"
"Not exactly, Mr. President. I apologize for forgetting to mention this, again, I only had a day to prepare, but in the Heliopolis site, we found two ancient texts, an older one that appears to be some form of Latin, and another, newer one that is strongly Egyptian. We've gotten a rough translation of some of the Egyptian text, and, according to it, the location was claimed by 'The Supreme Lord Ra.' We don't believe that Ra is an actual god, but perhaps an advanced alien who used technology to pose as one and subjugate the Egyptians thousands of years ago. Given that there were multiple Egyptian gods and a recurrent theme of animal heads on human bodies, and well…" he trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air.
"Doctor Langford, if these … gods … are real, then why do we still have this gate operational? It seems like a huge risk to have a gateway to Earth that… Ra or one of these other beings could return from."
"Basically, Mr. President, we've been operating under Occam's Razor. Since we know we're dealing with a race of aliens who possess technology powerful enough to pose as gods, it stands to reason that they have means other than the Stargate for travel. Even if we stopped all activity and buried our gate like the Egyptians apparently did, for all we know, there might be an alien armada out there that they could send. I admit, if these aliens did rule Earth at one point, but we buried the gate, I'm not sure as to why they didn't return in said hypothetical ships, but, again, it stands to reason that they more likely would have the capability than not."
"That's a valid point, but that still leaves a massive doorway that an army can march through."
"We're actually working on some theories about that as well. The Stargates only allow travel in one direction, from origin gate to destination gate, and anything that enters the wrong end doesn't come out, so we're experimenting with putting some kind of barrier in front of the gate. Some of our scientists theorize that an obstruction close enough to the gate won't allow matter to emerge, or will allow it to emerge, but bounce it back into the one-way connection of the gate, where it is apparently destroyed. Plus, while the gate is large, it does present a limitation on what can be sent through, and how much can be sent through at a time. For example, we could fit a Sherman fairly comfortably through the gate, but larger war equipment would be difficult. While we don't know how small the alien's technology and weapons are, it stands to reason that they, too, can't fit all their heavy toys through the gate. And people can only travel through in rows four or five people wide." Ernest said.
"Plus, Mr. President, with some good planning, you can turn this Stargate into a natural choke point with a highly effective kill zone. With good crossfire and explosives, it would be difficult to breach through, assuming out weapons can hurt these things." General Marshall said, speaking up.
Secretary Stimson looked down for another second at the documents in the briefcase before speaking up. "The potential technological gain alone … Mr. President, this is a rare opportunity for the United States, unique would probably be a better word in fact. While the alien technology is unknown, if we can secure even a fraction of the potential of what could be offered, the possibilities are endless. We can ensure the safety of our nation, and, coupled with the device, we could potentially stand at a new global age of peace. There is risk, but the potential gain is enormous." he said, with Marshall nodding in agreement. "And another thing. There are apparently hostile aliens out there. We presumably do not stand a chance against them at this point. The logical thing to do is attempt to rectify that situation while trying to minimize the risk of stepping on the wrong toes."
Looking to his two advisers, Truman nodded. "Okay… if you two think it's worth it, then we'll go for it. I'll need you two to coordinate with Dr. Langford to get him what he needs. For now let's keep this between the three of us, though I suspect more people will need to be brought up to speed, especially your fellow Chiefs of Staff." Turning to Paul, he continued, "Well, it's been a long time since I was in the National Guard, so I tend to defer to those two for advice on these matters. We'll continue to support your program, Professor Langford. We'll have to finagle the budget a bit, but we can take a hit or two there. Roosevelt gave you several million to work with and run the project out of the warehouse. I'm giving you one hundred million to make an effective base and work this out."
Paul sucked in a lungful of air at the thought of so much money. He didn't know what to say.
"However, there are a few of caveats to this, Professor. First, keeping such a dangerous device in a warehouse won't work. As I said, I want you to build a base out of this. General Marshall can coordinate with you on the details, but I want this thing in a secure location a good distance away from where civilians might get hurt or accidentally stumble upon it."
"We're building some testing facilities in the Southwest; I'm sure we can build one more … test site, and not be noticed. If you can have your people draw up some plans for how to house this thing, I can get the engineers to start working on this, though it may take some time." the general said.
"Which brings me to my second caveat. Until we have a secure location for the gate, I want a moratorium on all travel to unknown locations from Earth until the base is complete. It's just too risky to use Earth as a travel hub until we have everything secure. Use Heliopolis as an exploration springboard, but do so carefully."
Paul simply nodded in agreement; he still sometimes felt shivers when he thought of the probe that had been destroyed by the alien. "We will be limited in our options for several years, Mr. President, but I can agree to that, especially with that kind of a budget."
"I've been thinking," Stimson said, "if we're going to need a dedicated military force to protect our assets on Earth and on other planets we might use, we might as well dedicate a full division to the effort. Obviously, since this will be a slow build-up, it does not need to happen all at once, but, since we're already using parts of the 13th airborne for Stargate defense, we might as well dedicate the entire division to it. We can slowly weed out the members who would not be suited for the task and bring in other soldiers whom we might find useful."
"That's a good idea, Mr. Secretary." Marshall said, nodding in agreement. "I know a lot of the boys in the 13th have been annoyed at being grounded, so this will give the unit purpose, and it'll keep it from being put on Congress's chopping block." he finished under his breath.
All nodding in agreement, the president pulled up a paper. "Well, we'll need a designation for this project. While calling it something like the Stargate Initiative might be accurate, I'd prefer not to give any hints at what this might be. So, for our budget, this will be placed under the category of Area 52."
After several more minutes of discussion, the four men finalized details for America's newest officially classified program. Satisfied, they exchanged handshakes, and Paul prepared to leave as the man in charge of a multimillion-dollar program. As he stood to leave, Truman spoke up "We'll probably have to reassess the budget for your program in a year or two, but be prepared to operate on this amount for a while, the war is starting to wind down, Germany is one the ropes, and Japan…Well that might be a bit longer, but it's an inevitable result. Anyways, we can get away with the budget for a bit, but eventually Congress is going to have to be brought up to speed, even if it's just a few oversight members. I'd prefer you to have everything ready before our fellow representatives start arguing over how to use the thing and how much should be given to it. Good luck Professor."
General Marshall approached him. "Dr. Langford, who was the soldier you said was in charge of the men at Heliopolis?" he asked.
"Sergeant Don Hammond, general." Paul replied.
"Well, given that the location is cut off for a while, and the 13th will be restructured, senior officers will be at a premium. So, when you send your next supply shipment, can you send these through to the Sergeant?" he said as he pulled out a small case and opened it. Inside was a new set of insignia, each one a single golden bar. "I'm officially bumping him up a couple of pay grades to Second Lieutenant. Tell him to keep up the good work."
Smiling, Paul took the insignia and shook General Marshall's hand. Things were looking up for the program.
As soon as Paul left, the three men looked at each other for several seconds before Marshall broke the silence.
"…Well, that went way differently than I thought it would. Truth be told, I thought this was just going to be some archaeological boondoggle…shows what I know."
"Indeed" Stimson replied, puling up a chair. "I am of course worried about those beings that video showed, but again, the sheer possibilities are endless."
"Agreed, however gentlemen, we have a bigger question…are we going to let our friends in on this?"
"Mr. President?" Marshall asked.
"Britain, France, you know, our allies. This is obviously a monumental discovery and has the potential to shape the world in an incalculable amount of ways, the thing is, this project needs to stay secret, lord knows how people would react if they found out spacemen could be on our doorstep tomorrow. However, trying to keep it solely in our hands and hoarding whatever we might find strikes me as a recipe for disaster. If we get found out, best case we alienate ourselves from the entire world, worst case … war."
"Well, we could always bring the French, British and Soviets in on it, they could provide additional assistance and funding" Marshall replied.
"Yeah, but Churchill will go frothing out the mouth if we try and bring Stalin in on the program, Stalin…well who knows what that man will want or do." Stimson rebutted.
"Hm…perhaps we might want to wait and see for a while."
"Mr. President?" both other men asked.
"We obviously can't keep our allies in the dark about this, they will know about it eventually. But for now, with the war and our immediate efforts to stabilize what's left of Asia and Europe, it might be best to hold off on telling them anything. Plus it gives the Professor more time to finish up a base to house the thing. Plus this gives the man a chance to actually prove his program…"
Moscow- 3 days later
Agent Pavel Borodin pored over the files in front of him. In the dim light of the NKGB headquarters' poor lighting, he struggled to make sense of the information. While most of the state's efforts were going towards destroying Hitler's foul empire, they still had assets and other sources of information in other nations. Pavel was one of several agents in charge of figuring out what was happening in America. His specialty was trying to divine the capitalists' intentions by going over their receipts and other government reports and appropriations that found their way into Pavel's hands.
Glancing at this latest missive, it would appear that a new program was being initiated and was given a surprisingly large sum of money. This wasn't the first one he'd seen, or even the largest (that belonged to the nearly two billion dollar project he was having similarly poor luck with), but the fact that it was tied to only one location raised an eyebrow.
"Gah!" he exclaimed after several more frustrating minutes. His office partner, Boris, glanced over.
"Trouble, Pavel?" he asked in a singsong voice. "Still trying to figure out what the Americans are up to with their money?"
"What do you think, Boris?!" he snapped as he sighed and took a long drink of coffee. Boris had it easier; all he had to do was listen to their media and try to guess what was happening by what the mouthpieces of the bourgeois were saying.
"Don't fret, my friend. We'll figure it out. Besides," he said, gesturing to the two documents on Pavel's desk, "We still have to figure out what they've been spending that two billion on before we fret about one hundred million…"