Virago 4

By JW Luff

Some people say that religion was created to control the masses. That God is nothing more than a figure of our imagination. What if, as we explore the universe, we encounter creatures that not only know of God but actually know God. Jake Simms is traveling to a world ravaged by war. He's trying to solve a 3000 year-old mystery, and not get killed in the process.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781105604140

Book preview

Virago 4

Virago 4

Virago 4

First Edition

Copyright 2012 JW Luff

All rights reserved

ISBN: 978-1-105-60414-0

BY

JW LUFF

To Dora,

Thank you for loving me.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 1

Sleep, if you could call it that, the creature wasn’t fully unconscious but its brain functions were certainly reduced. Resting was more an accurate definition for its current level of consciousness. Looking similar to a giant squid from earth except it was the size of a city bus with a brain roughly the size of a small car. It was suspended in a vat of liquid methane. The species itself had been around for countless millions of years. This one, in particular, was considered middle-aged by its normal lifespan just a few thousand years old.  Even in this semi-conscious state the creature’s mind could still reach out and monitor the immense ship it resided on along with the crew and of course its passengers. It would not read another’s’ mind without permission, that was morally wrong. But it could get the mood of the crew and the ship’s passengers. But now a power greater than it, even than the universe itself reached out and touched the creature’s brain. Bringing the creature instantly awake. It recognized the Master’s call. Its brain responded," SPEAK LORD, for your servant, is listening."

High in Earth orbit, a communication satellite transfers signals from one spot on Earth’s surface to another. Launched from the space shuttle Endeavor’s cargo bay a decade ago it has done its duty without any major glitches. Now a signal approaches. This is not a microwave signal that the inhabitants of this planet use. This signal travels many times faster than the speed of light. Normally a signal of this type would not even be detected. However, this particular satellite has some extra equipment onboard. A small gray box bolted to the inside and with its own power source suddenly comes to life and establishes a connection between a giant alien vessel traveling through space and the planet below.

On a secret government base deep underground in the Nevada desert, a man works at his desk. His world consists of security clearances and black operations. Secret agencies with secret agendas. The knowledge that he carries could destroy political careers or even topple governments. He has ordered men and women on secret missions knowing that they would not return, doing dirty work that no one wants to admit to or even talk about. He has paid a heavy price for this life. Although his actions have saved this country and its allies from countless attacks he could not save his own family from leaving him. No one but a select few in the highest government circles knows what he has done. Now he is in charge of a covert operation working with intelligences he can only try to understand. A light on his computer screen illuminates followed by a soft ring.

He reaches for the intercom. Yes.

Mr. Davenport, you have a call…..from the Client. The female voice on the other end responds.

He types in the access code. The computer screen lights up and a voice, probably mechanically produced. It certainly wasn’t of human origin speaks across the vast emptiness of space.

"Mr. Davenport, I hope this evening finds you well." Richard Davenport has spoken to dignitaries, terrorist, dictators, and even modern day pirates. He has always had the upper hand militarily. Until now, the intelligence on the other end of this communication network could squash him and this planet like a bug. But for now, it is a peaceful coexistence, much like a mutually beneficial business deal.

I am well, and how are you? He replies politely.

The alien voice continues." We are well also. I have contacted you to discuss the list of new candidates that you have selected for our ongoing operation on Virago 4."

Couldn’t they just accept the list when he submitted it? He thought.

This is getting to be annoying. The leader of the free world takes his word on personnel recommendations why can’t this thing?  Sure, is there someone, in particular, you have a concern about? He replied.

"Two of the submissions that you have sent us for clearance have prior military backgrounds, numbers 16 and 19." The creature continued. "As you are aware we cannot allow military personnel, even those that have left the service to be allowed clearance onto the project, except of course the small number of security personnel that both parties have agreed upon."

Davenport was caught off guard; how this creature from light-years away can find every operative he tried to sneak onto the project. The operation itself was almost terminated five years ago when military personnel tried to steal alien technology and bring it back to Earth. Ever since then, only civilians with absolutely no prior military service could ever be considered for the project.

I can’t understand how this could have happened, He lied.

The two men in question were black-op specialist that had their identities changed and personnel files buried so deep that even Davenport’s clearance level would have had a hard time finding. And they were tagged as if they had shown up wearing their dress blues. It was as if this creature could cruise through the most secure computer data storage facilities like most of us stroll through a park.

I’ll speak to the Human Resources Department and make sure this doesn’t happen again. He said, Is there anyone else?

"Yes. The creature replied. We were curious why you have rejected number 22 on the list that we supplied to you."

Davenport resented that the creature could cruise the internet and find personnel posting their résumé’s online.

Davenport checked the list. Let’s see…..number 22…..Oh yes; he was rejected because he’s a religious fanatic. Believe me, you don’t want someone like him anywhere near the project.

The creature’s voice came through the speakers. "We don’t understand what you are basing that assessment on."

Davenport’s patience began to thin.

"Our records show he is a member of what you refer to as a church…in fact, he is considered one of their elders. The creature replied. We have cross referenced ….we believe you call it a Website for that organization he is associated with and we see no evidence of violence or any activities that could be considered radical by your own definition. Only outreach programs for the poorest and neediest members of that community."

Davenport was starting to really resent this thing; he tried to hide his frustration.

People like that cannot find out about what is really out there, their entire life is based on a fantasy that they believe is truth and as soon as they find out everything they ever believed in is false they will have a nervous breakdown or worse try to destroy it because they think its blasphemy, Davenport said.

The creature responded, unconvinced. "Mr. Davenport, we have the capabilities to tap into your planet’s communication network."

Davenport physically sat back in his chair, for the ramifications of that statement were enormous.

The creature continued. "We have no desire to listen in on your government’s secret operations."

It’s as if the creature could sense Davenport’s emotions.

"However when someone submits documents for a position on the project they have authorized your organization and ours to check on certain information, and that includes unsecured communications. The creature continued. We have obtained a recording of a conversation between the person in question and another individual. We believe you refer to the device as a Cellular Telephone."

The first sound that could be heard was the ringing of a phone:

Hello,

Brother Jake?

Bobby, is that you? How’re you doing my friend?

I’m fine, have you got a minute to talk?

Sure Bobby, I’ve always got time for you, how’s that new baby?

Oh, she’s fine… sleeping almost through the night now.

That’s great.

Davenport was really starting to lose his patience now. Is this going somewhere? I know you must be fascinated with newborn human children and their sleeping habits. He said sarcastically But I really need to get back to work.

"Please continue to listen." The creature replied.

So what’s on your mind, Bobby?

Well, I was wondering if you watched the news last night.

Sure, I watched it...Are you concerned about that violence in the Middle East…that bunch has been killing each other for centuries, they’re not likely to stop anytime soon.

No Brother Jake...I was wondering about the other story.

Which one?

The one about those lights people saw in the dessert….around Phoenix.

Oh yeah, I saw that one…you know everybody loves a mystery.

What do you think it was Brother Jake? I mean some people said it was probably some kind of new military plane and ….well….others said it could be maybe something else. Or someone else, I mean, you’re a pilot, have you ever seen anything like that?

I’ve spent a lot of time in the air over the years and I have never seen anything that couldn’t be explained.

So you don’t believe in UFOs or aliens.

Now I didn’t say that, just that I haven’t seen one.

I don’t believe that God made this huge universe and we are the only intelligence out here...Now that wouldn’t make sense.

But what about what the experts say that it would take so long for a spacecraft to reach us from across the galaxy.

Bobby….some of the so-called experts have a tendency to ignore certain facts. For instance, it took Columbus three months to cross the Atlantic Ocean. That was three hundred years ago. Right now there are airplanes hanging in museums that were designed in the 1960’s. That can make the same trip in less than ninety minutes. That’s called progress. So what do think a civilization could accomplish if it had a thousand year head start on us or even a million? Their capabilities would seem like magic to us.

So Brother Jake, what do think it was?

I don’t know Bobby...I just don’t know.

Well, what if it was an Alien ship…..what does that say about the Bible?

Bobby, all I know is that you either believe the Bible or you don’t.

There is no halfway here, and if there are aliens out there, then they were created by God like everything else in the Universe.

The creature interrupted the recording. "The recording continues, but nothing that pertains to our conversation."

Davenport countered. I can’t believe you are even considering someone like him, given the recent findings on Virago 4.

The creature was firm." We could contact him directly ourselves if this task is too difficult for you."

Davenport listened, was that a threat? Absolutely not, we have a hard-enough time covering up sightings like the one he was referring to in Phoenix last week. If you’re convinced he needs to be considered for the project, we will bring him in for interviews and training. Davenport continued. However, if he doesn’t pass the simulator and flight training it won’t matter anyway.

"Well if he is found not skilled or fit for the project we trust you will have all the appropriate data and documentation to prove your assessment." The creature said.

Of course, as always, our data on personnel is always available to you, Davenport replied, and thought as if I or anyone else on this planet could stop you.

"Then if there is nothing else we will not keep you further from your duties." The creature said.

No that covers it, Davenport replied

"Good evening Mr. Davenport" and with that, the creature terminated the connection.

Davenport pulled up the Churches website and scrolled to the Elder’s page. On it, a picture of a smiling couple in their 50’s with the names Deacon Jake Simms and wife Laura. In the world he lived in there was never time for a wife and family. There had been once but with last minute assignments too far off countries that he couldn’t talk about and the stress associated with that. He had traded his home life for the greater good. Protecting people like Jake and Laura with his sacrifice and they didn’t even know it.  And now this civilian was standing between him and getting a new operative onto the project. They were always short of personnel and if he could get this church boy out of the way he might be able to sneak one past. He couldn’t just fail him, the powers he answered to had software installed that prevented falsifying records. He would have to be creative, besides it wouldn’t be his fault if the guy just up and quit.

Davenport looked at the picture and sneered. Well, Mr. Simms, you’ve just made a new enemy and we haven’t even met yet.

Chapter 2

He had to keep reminding himself this was just a simulator, albeit a very sophisticated one. No one has ever been killed in a simulator…..right? It certainly looked and felt real. The helicopter itself was real with the rotor blades, engine and tail boom removed. A large hydraulic arm attached at the rear suspending the body of the helicopter in midair with the capability of bouncing the occupants around just like they were flying.

The chopper was suspended inside a large ball onto which the visual effects could be projected to complete the illusion. At the technician's whim, they could have you on a leisurely flight over green meadows in calm winds or flying over a raging sea in the middle of a hurricane. The latter of which he now found himself.  This simulator was even equipped with actual water being sprayed onto the windshield to reduce the visibility and the flashing strobe lights were just about as close to lightning as you could get. To make matters worse, not only could the technician control the weather but they could also control all of the mechanical functions as well. Making systems fail at the worst possible time. The running joke was the guy that tortured the king’s enemies in the dungeon in medieval times evolved into modern simulator technicians. The helicopter jerked to the side slamming his shoulder against the door frame. That’s going to leave a mark, he thought as he tightened the straps on his harness. He still had 30 minutes to go before he attempted a landing on the computer-generated oil rig, in a computer-generated storm. Too bad that bruise on his shoulder wasn’t computer-generated. Between lightning flashes, he could see his reflection in the Plexiglas windshield. The middle-aged man that looked back at him looked fragile. The short graying hair, the clean-shaven face. Trying to slow his breathing and conserve his strength he reflected on the events of the last month. There was the phone call, his resume had been tagged and would he be available for an interview? With the economy in the toilet full-time pilot jobs were hard to come by. Especially those that paid as well as this one did. In the interview process, he had met that delightful man….Richard Davenport whose mission in life seems to be to insult him and make his time here as hard as possible. He had even warned him that this was a government organization and not to discuss anything religious with any of his classmates, it was all about separation of church and state. So why did he make all the snide comments about Christianity?

He was repeatedly told if things were too tough he could always quit. Sorry, not an option he thought. With him out of work for over a year, 2 kids in college and Laura’s job getting ready to end this seemed like the only option. He and Laura had prayed over their situation and unless God brought something else this was it. The idea of being gone for 2 months and back home for a month wasn’t the best situation but the health care and wages were nothing to sneeze at. And there was that whole secrecy thing. He still didn’t know where he would be actually working. The information was vague, to say the least. He was told he would be working outside of the country for a foreign power that requested to remain anonymous flying supplies and personnel for another contractor to certain sites from a central base. They certainly had an odd assortment of aircraft, small helicopters, and single-engine and multiengine airplanes. Reminded him of a bush plane operation instead of a government contractor. And then there were all the forms he signed, promising not to discuss what he was seeing. And when he finally did get the whole story that is if he completed his training, if he ever breathed a word of this to anyone the government would turn him into kibbles and bits. And especially strange was the fact that none of the personnel considered for the job could have any military background at all. The foreign power had requested it, he was told. The area he was going in was completely safe and there was absolutely no need for the military’s presence there. The turbulence slammed him against the straps throwing him forward jerking him back to reality….well, simulated reality anyway. ETA 10 minutes, according to the GPS. He still had an hour and a half of fuel on board, well inside the safety limits if he had to divert to the other rig. The weather was better there anyway.

Sometimes they threw so much at you that the best decision was to abort the flight, checking your decision-making skills along with your flying abilities.

In the technician’s booth, Richard Davenport stood watching the simulation unfold. The two technicians had been monitoring Jake fight his way through the storm and to say the least, they were impressed. How’s he doing? Davenport asked.

The first tech answered. Better than most, he did learn to make sure his harness was tight. But he's operating within standards.

Davenport looked at the weather conditions displayed on the screen. Then turned to the first tech, Increase wind gust to 50 knots.

The first tech looked up from his screen. Sir, that is outside normal parameters. We wouldn’t dispatch a flight in those conditions.

Davenport glared at the tech. I said increase wind gust to 50 knots!

The tech sheepishly looked back at his screen typing in the commands bringing the simulated gust up to 50 knots.

Inside the simulator, Jake could see the rig slowly appearing out of the rain. He knew as he got close the turbulence would increase due to the wind blowing around the structure. He punched up the current conditions on the GPS….winds gusting to 50 knots...Not going to make this easy are you, he thought. One of the reasons he was hired was the fact that he was qualified in airplanes and helicopters. Dual rated as it was known in the industry. And the fact that he had a lot of flight time in most of the aircraft this organization used. Now he was on his last qualification flight on the last aircraft in his training and he wasn’t about to give up now. All the written test and simulator torture was coming down to this. As he approached the rig he felt the turbulence, he had made the decision to make one attempt and if that was unsuccessful divert to the alternate rig. Sometimes they were looking for the right decision in a bad situation. He began to slow the helicopter by easing back on the cyclic control between his knees with his right hand and simultaneously pushing down on the collective control on his left side. The helicopter’s nose began to pitch up as it reacted to the control inputs. The turbulence was fierce as he fought to maintain control. He had the landing pad in sight and noticed the structures on the other side. He concluded if he had to abort the landing he would have to do it before he was over the pad. There was no way he could climb up and clear the obstacles on the other side of the landing pad.  This was going to be close, the turbulence got worse and then there was that awful feeling of being out of control. The helicopter was falling toward the pad at an alarming rate. He must be caught in a downdraft. The decision was made, he shoved the cyclic to the left and lowered the collective, the scene in front of him swirled as the rig moved out of his field of view and