The Po Drive

By Blair Smith

On the prairies of Wyoming, Blair and Boni witness a spectacular crash of a small UFO. Upon investigation, they find one of the Aliens still alive, but trembling and fearful of the two barbaric humans. Blair and Boni win his confidence and hide him so that he can build a communicator to contact his people. In return for their help, the Alien, named Po, teaches them how to build an anti-gravity drive, not a star drive, but something to putt around the earth with at three thousand miles an hour. How fast is that....5 time that of any fighter jet on the planet! Of course the CIA and KGB, and every other powerhouse nation want to get their hands on the technology. Building the drive was just a fun family project that turned into a life and death struggle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blair Smith
• Release date: Jun 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301902491

Blair Smith

Blair Smith is a retired airline pilot who splits his time living between Arizona and Alaska. In his youth Blair was either driving a tractor on his Farther's farm in Montana or surfing and playing basketball in southern California. After playing basketball in College he entered a flight school in Billing, Montana and earened several pilots licenses that allowed him get hired by a major airline were he worked for thirty five years. Blair married his wife a few days before getting hired to the airlines and they raised five precious children together. Blair has always been very active and has engaged in a variety of diversions with his wife and kids, from radio controlled airplanes to windsurfers, water skiing to snow skiing, hunting big game to fishing, racing catamarans to flying Ultra Light airplanes and turning out beautiful pens on a mini lathe. Blair and his family did every thing while he continued flying Boeing 747s around the world. Blair met his second wife in Alaska and helped raise her two children. He has seventeen grandchildren and has high hopes for more. His health, which has slowed him down, has given him the time the write this and other books. He really enjoys writing and says the stories that are in him seem to be bursting to get out.

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The Po Drive

By

Blair Smith

Copyright © 2013 by Blair Smith

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE: THE ENCOUNTER

CHAPTER TWO: HOMEWARD

CHAPTER THREE: PO’S INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER FOUR: ELEMENTS OF THE DRIVE

CHAPTER FIVE: THE LAST DAY

CHAPTER SIX: OVERWHELMED

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE MECHANISM

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE CHRISTENING

CHAPTER NINE: SAM

CHAPTER TEN: THE CIA

CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE KGB

CHAPTER TWELVE: ESCAPING

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE CONCLUSION

PROLOGUE

My name is Jacob Smith. Today, March 15, 2013, I am making public part of a journal I found after my grandpa’s sudden disappearance. My dad, Jared Smith, is the eldest son of Blair and Bonnie Smith and a distinguished character in Grandpa’s journal. My grandpa was Blair Smith and the story that follows is taken almost word for word from his journal.

These entries to his journal were made mostly in 1989. Some of you will remember that time. My grandpa told me there were no cell phones or global positioning devices (GPS). Technology has come a long way since then! It also was the time of the Cold War with much mistrust between the USA and Russia, and some of the other global powers.

My dad was just sixteen years old when this was written, and this story explains how Grandpa, with his wife and five children, had to leave this planet we call Earth and roam the galaxy for a time. That roaming and their subsequent return the Earth is another story, to be told after we find out where Grandpa went.

I read this journal looking for clues as to where my grandpa is. But I enjoyed the story so much, that I share it with you. I hope that you will enjoy it, and perhaps, if you find some helpful clues you will share them.

Read on!

Jacob Smith

CHAPTER ONE: THE ENCOUNTER

All we wanted to do was change the world a little bit. Does that sound so bad? Don’t you think there are a few changes that could be made to improve things? My family and I sure did, so when the opportunity presented itself we decided to give it a go.

It all seemed so wonderfully easy, at first. We did some research, some study, and a little work out in the garage and presto we were ready to change the world!

Perhaps help this poor world might be a better way to put it. We proposed to help our little world out of the dinosaur age, into a new, fantastic, wonderful era!

Po gave us the know how, helped us at first, and told us to go for it! He didn’t actually say go for it, but that was what he meant. He said something more like, It is a very worthwhile, although ambitious endeavor. I believe you should extend every effort to accomplish the task!

He talked like that. He wasn’t too sharp on the local idiomatic expressions. My five children had a lot of phrases that were just too much for him to grasp. Totally rad, man! was one of the best, or worst, depending on how you looked at it. He always listened to the words instead of what was being said! We didn’t hold that against him; we loved him dearly! He never, never gave up trying to understand us. He watched and listened to every detail with the utmost care and patience. He became one of the family and brought to us the wonderful goal of changing the world.

I’m getting way ahead of myself. Let me go back to the beginning!

THE BEGINNING

Have you ever been to Wyoming? If you have, you’ll readily picture this scene. Boni and I were driving along about 70 MPH (it’s impossible to go slower in Wyoming!) on one of those absolutely crystal clear nights with the full moon lighting everything. One of those nights when you are tempted to turn off the lights because it’s soooo bright and there is no one else around for a billion miles.

We had just finished visiting my brother who lives in Shell, Wyoming (50 inhabitants, including jackrabbits and antelope) and were on our way home. Now you may ask why we were driving at night instead of leaving in the morning like normal people. Well, I really like to drive at night, the roads are less crowded and the car seems to run better and one can see a lot more animals and somehow it is just easier to concentrate on the road. (Winky, our thirteen year old daughter, just told me that the last sentence is a run-on sentence. Whatever that is, I’m sorry! Please try to keep in mind; I’m just an airline pilot, not an author.)

Anyway, as we were driving along Boni was commenting on all the bright stars and how much easier it is to see them away from the pollution and lights of the cities. We had seen a couple of falling stars (I know, meteorites) and it was so clear it looked like they might land right beside the road! Ironically, not five miles after Boni’s comments, one of the meteorites didn’t burn up and go out the way they are supposed to. It just got brighter and brighter, lighting up the whole sky. I’m not overly excitable, so I very casually turned to Boni and said, I suppose it is a little late to repent of a few small indiscretions?

She didn’t think that was too funny and was seriously becoming concerned. I stopped the truck (my new custom cab Toyota 4X4, man is it neat!) and we both jumped out to watch. Looking back, it was kinda touching. There we were, standing by the truck, holding hands, mesmerized by the awesome sight of the fiery ball descending towards us at incredible speed, fully expecting not to survive.

Blair, what is it? Boni asked with considerable alarm.

I really don’t know, I said, but I don’t think it’s a meteorite! Look real close at the very center!

At its center could be seen a definite shape that to me was obviously manufactured. That is to say, it wasn’t just a lump of dirt or molten rock or whatever a meteorite is made of. All this was happening very fast. It sounds like it took half the night, but mere seconds had passed. The burning was coming right towards us! I thought it was going to hit us for sure, but it narrowly passed over our heads in a blast of light and heat! Considering the speed, I would say fifty feet was very close!

Depending on where you are, Wyoming can be extremely flat or beautifully mountainous. It’s a wonderfully diverse state. We were in the foothills with gullies and washes. It landed, no, it crashed into one of these gullies, where we were unable to actually see the crash, but only the mushroom cloud of smoke and dust and fire. I might add, that I referred to it as it because, in the last instant before it disappeared, having only the briefest glimpse, I had the nagging feeling that I had never seen anything like it before. It did occur to me that it was, or must be, one of the satellites. I’d heard of decaying orbits and reentry crashes. How long ago was it that the Russians had a space lab or something reenter somewhere up in Canada? My only real doubt was the fact that I thought I saw windows.

I’ve often been described as a very active and impetuous man, sometimes acting on instinct, or perhaps reacting to circumstances before I do a lot of thinking. This particular character trait has got me into a lot of trouble a few times, but for the most part, I do consider it a positive attribute. In my profession as a pilot, that is often the best course of action, if there isn’t time to step back and consider the emergency. I think this trait of mine is mostly inherent, reinforced through training with the airlines.

I told Boni to get in, and with all four wheels throwing sand and dirt, we headed off the pavement straight for the crash. Boni didn’t say anything. I’ve been a constant source of excitement in her life, so why should she want to miss another sizzling episode?

Bouncing over the sage brush and prairie-dog mounds, we arrived in our own cloud of dust. With my super-duper Halon fire extinguisher, I launched myself out of the truck, thinking all the time that it just didn’t look big enough to have made all that smoke, flame and the huge hole that it was then setting in. Standing on the edge of the hole, extinguisher in one hand, flashlight in the other, I expected there to be nothing at all left of the craft or ship, or whatever it was.

Instead of a mass of twisted wreckage, it appeared to be largely undamaged, except for a few dents and one large gaping hole toward the front of the craft. Without further thought, I jumped into the hole and started putting out the flames that I could get close enough to. The whole ship or vessel or whatever was very hot, glowing a dull red, like the end of a wire coat hanger after all the marshmallows are gone. It seemed to cool quickly. At least I was able to reach more and more of the flames. As the fire was extinguished and the smoke cleared a little, I was better able to see the rather large hole in the area I considered the front. I considered it the front only because it was the foremost part of the craft in the hole. Curiously, there was also extensive damage to a rather large section at where the tail of the craft should be. If my confusion about the head or tail of the craft seems strange, it is only because the craft was shaped like a discus—only thicker, maybe like two bowls, one upside-down on top of the other. The windows I mentioned earlier consisted of a solid row, unbroken except by a post between each at about two foot intervals, about another two feet up from where you and I would seam the two halves together. Because of the smoke inside and the dirt and soot, I was unable to see into the windows, but carefully proceeded around to look into the craft thru the hole in front. I somehow was not concerned with my own safety, but found myself fully occupied trying to help those inside, if any, to get out to safety. On the Boeing 747 I fly, one can open the doors from outside by way of recessed handles on clearly marked doorways. Shining my light around, I could not find any clearly marked doors or exits. Using the light, I made my way to the torn open part at the front of the craft.

As I looked inside, the place was totally upset and scattered about with broken everything. I could not see anyone at this time but I could see what looked like an instrument panel, unlike any I had seen before. There was absolutely no writing on any of the gauges that I could discern, although there were curious markings inside the faces. From the many lights that were still lit, I realized there was still power on the ship. I remember thinking that this is strange. A good captain would surely kill all the power before impact and thus help eliminate a source of ignition for fire. Having the training I do, I looked at the panels and it somehow seemed logical for one of the two buttons that were on the upper right-hand corner of each smaller panel to perhaps be on-off switches. I took a chance and pushed the left button on the panel closest to me. Yes, I was hoping that they were not the self-destruct buttons. Happily, the lights on the panel went out and I assumed the power to be off on that panel. The hole I was reaching through was not very big and I could just barely squeeze my head and shoulders through, turning off panels as I went. Choking and coughing, I got the distinct impression of stale air, but attributed that to the smoke and fire. I still hadn’t noticed anyone, but my attention was entirely fixed on killing all the power I could, and its possible fire source. When all the panels were dead, I noticed that there was one rather large amber light on the overhead panel that I could not kill. (Kill is pilot talk for put out, extinguish, etc.) On the 747, we have what we call a hot battery bus. It is wired directly to the battery so that there is always power to get the start valves open to start the engines and therefore power all the airplane. I suspected that this was an indication of a similar bus. Now the problem would be to find the battery and disconnect the terminals from the battery. Batteries are not something that you play with every day, so I started looking in out-of-the-way places in the side panels and the floor. Just aft of what must surely be the pilot’s chair, there was a handle indicating access beneath. I opened it up and there was something with two leads attached, but if it was a battery, it was the funniest looking battery I’d ever seen. Have you ever seen a battery that looks like a green pumpkin? I’d been lucky so far, so I took a chance. You know, When you’re hot, you’re hot!. Fortunately my luck held! Upon disconnecting one of the leads, the amber light on the overhead went out. Also, the lighting that I had not even noticed went out at the same time, leaving me with just my trusty Eveready.

Now that the power to the ship had all been shut off, I felt a little relieved about any more fires starting up, and I immediately began to look for passengers. (At that point in time, there are no pilots, everyone is a passenger!)

I noticed blood on the floor right next to the battery panel opening that I had not noticed before. My light immediately zoomed in on the pilot’s chair. I had been excited before, but now my heart began literally racing to new record highs. I could hear my pulse in my ears. (I really hate that!) As I was behind the chair, I couldn’t see the person, only the very long and very thin arm that dangled lifelessly over the side of the white plastic looking seat. Were it not for the hand at the end, lying on the floor, I might not have thought of it as an arm. Even the hand took me a second to recognize. It had extremely long fingers; three of them and a thumb to match. Delicate, would be the best word to describe this extremity that I could see from the awkward position I was in. I had been standing on my tiptoes, pushing my head and shoulders through the hole in the torn wreckage. I might be a little slow, but it started to dawn on me that things were not exactly normal! Of a sudden, I grew extremely concerned for Boni and her welfare. Naturally, I wasn’t concerned for my own safety! I wasn’t sure any more what it was that we had here. What at first was a plane wreck, or even a falling satellite, was turning out to be far more complicated. A sense of deep fear and foreboding came over me and I hurriedly extricated myself from the wreckage and, with light in hand, went to find Boni standing on the edge of the hole, waiting for some word from me on what we had found. I really don’t think she was afraid at all until she saw my face. It was very interesting to watch the change of expression go from new adventure, to deep concern, to the beginning of danger. To this day I have never seen that on film. (I never have my camera at the right time.)

Well, there we were, holding hands in the moon light, looking at the now dark hull of a ship that I had to tell Boni didn’t appear to belong to us… Us in the sense of the human race. Silence can be very thick! Breathing can be a very noisy, distracting activity at certain times. This was one of them! I preferred it to not breathing, but wished it just didn’t make so much noise. Nothing! Not a sound or light came from the ship. We waited for a few minutes.

Blair, you said ‘he’ was bleeding. What if you can help him? The mother instinct!

What if ‘he’ doesn’t like big, hairy airline pilots that turn off all ‘his’ electricity? I mentioned casually.

Silence. A long silence. We were both lost in our own thoughts and concerns when an audible click split the night. I think I aged about ten years in a single click and Boni demonstrated vertical acceleration to the max! (To the max! we got from our kids.) We were really holding hands now! Why we just didn’t turn and run or choke ‘em with heel dust, as they say out west, is still a mystery. More clicks and I casually noticed that my anxiety meter was pegged out! It’s really something, how you can be standing out there in the foothills in the moonlight and break right out in a sweat. I know that women don’t sweat, but Boni was starting to glow just like me. More noise and it became obvious to the two of us sweating mortals that someone or something was moving around in the ship. We followed the movement by sound toward the area I had been in to kill the power. There were still no lights on, but the unmistakable sound of someone straining could easily be heard. With all the damage to the cockpit, in my mind I could see that the pilot might very well be pinned in the seat. What a dilemma! Brave thoughts like, Let’s get the hell out of here! came to mind, or Things like this are supposed to happen to the other guy!.

While I was considering what the top speed of a new custom cab Toyota 4X4 might be, Boni had the audacity to say, Aliens never hurt anybody! Let’s go help!

Can you imagine that coming out of the mouth of a 120 pound female? I wondered how fast I could run with 120 pounds on my shoulder.

Yea, come on! I heard come out of my throat.

This is totally and utterly insane! is what rang loud and clear in my head.

We cautiously made our way down to the side of the smallish ship to where the hole was torn in the cockpit and carefully pointed the light inside. There were a pair of those long and skinny arms trying, with great effort, to bend a piece of the front instrument panel that held the pilot pinned in his seat. As our light shown in the hole, the longs arms paused in their effort and began to tremble. Tremble is the only word to express it. You know, like a little puppy might after you worked it over with newspaper for doing something dishonorable on the new carpet.

More words fell out of my mouth, You hold the light, Boni! So, without another thought, I reached my big, hairy, relatively short, arms into the hole and tried to reach the jagged edge of the panel. No luck! I was going to have to squeeze my head and shoulders in like before! You can’t live forever Blair! sounded in my head and I squirmed in. Then it really got scary! (Scary to the max!) Because my head, shoulders and arms blocked off all the light that Boni was trying to direct to the task, I was completely in the black with the arms! You guessed it! I squirmed back out and mentioned in my calmest voice that I couldn’t see anything that way and would have to take the light with me. I was starting to understand tremble real well!

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