TIME MATTERS – CHAPTER 21: Gina Smells Something Funny

Abstract representation of Gina smelling the pipe tobacco smoke

The knocking seemed to be taking place on a very distant door. Slowly, and I mean very “despacito”, it pulled me back to the world of the living. I got up, shuffled my feet all the way to the door to open it and find Gina standing there with a worried look on her face.

“How did the presentation go?” I mumbled.

“What’re you taking about? It’s Sunday. Ray are you OK? You look worse than yesterday. And what’s that smell?”

“Sorry, lost track of time. You wouldn’t believe what happened after I left last night.” And then it hit me. “Wait, what did you say? What smell?”

“The tobacco stench. Did you start smoking?”

My eyes opened wide and I grinned, “You can smell it?!”

“Jesus Ray, I’m sure your neighbors two floors down can smell it. But it isn’t the typical cigarette odor, it reeks more like pipe tobacco. Oh my God, don’t tell me you’ve picked up pipe smoking.”

“It is the smell of pipe tobacco. How did you know?”

“My grandfather used to smoke pipe and I learned the difference between the smell of cigarettes and the scent of pipe tobacco when I was little. Ray, what’s going on? The security guard downstairs told me they didn’t find anything on the surveillance tapes(1) and that he’s worried about you. When I asked him why he was telling me this he said you had recently added me to the list of people to call in case of emergency and that he thought I should know this. What were they looking for in those tapes? What aren’t you telling me? But please, before you say anything go brush your teeth; it’s past noon but your morning breath is killing me.”

“Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

I went over to the bathroom and from there I asked her where were the kids and to what did I owe the honor of her visit on a Sunday afternoon.

“My sister picked them up after breakfast this morning and something told me that it would be a good idea to check up on you. You didn’t look too well yesterday and as soon as I talked to your Scottish friend downstairs I realized my hunch was right on the money.”

After brushing my teeth I put on a fresh shirt and went back to Gina.

“I thought you didn’t babysit coworkers,” I said with a smirk.

“I was checking up on a friend not a coworker,” she said without missing a beat, as usual. “Now, is there anything you would like to share with me? Something about certain surveillance tapes, perhaps.”

“You better sit down,” I said. “There’s something I didn’t tell you about the dreams. Einstein was never part of them. He’s been visiting me… I know this sounds absolutely crazy. I thought it was all a figment of my imagination until a few minutes ago when you noticed the tobacco smell. He’s the one who’s been smoking pipe during his visits. Well, in his earlier ones, until I told him to stop smoking in here(2). Building security has been checking the surveillance tapes since the first day he showed up. The fact they haven’t found anything in them isn’t the strangest part of the story, the truly bizarre aspect of all this is that nobody but me seems to be able to see, hear or notice the guy. Well, until now that you smelled his pipe smoking.”

“Wow… I don’t know what to say Ray. This is worse than I thought.”

“What do you mean worse…?”

“Well, I thought you might be suffering from exhaustion, or maybe a virus, not that you were having hallucinations. Yesterday you told me that Professor Murdock thought you needed professional help. Was he referring to these Einstein visits? Does he know about it?”

I nodded in the affirmative and went over to my room to pick up Einstein’s handwritten note. When I came back to the living room I handed it to the Gina.

“He gave me this during one of his visits. The professor checked the handwriting and it matches the real Einstein’s. These are not hallucinations Gina. The fact that you can smell the pipe scent is proof of that.”

“Does the professor think that all this is real?” she asked.

“Not exactly…”

“Raymond Young, spit it out.”

“He thinks these encounters might be schizophrenic in nature, and has an explanation for everything that has happened(3). But he hasn’t been in this apartment and thus hasn’t been exposed to the pipe smell.”

“Ok, let’s invite him over and see if he can come up with one,” said Gina.

 

(1) For more details on the surveillance tapes check out Chapter 5: Der Depperte and Chapter 7: Desperately Seeking Subtitles

(2) Read how Ray tells ‘Einstein’ to stop smoking in his apartment  in Chapter 13: A Not So Silent Night

(3) Take a look at Professor Murdock’s explanation in Chapter 10: The Akashic Records and Chapter 11: The Professor Calling

TIME MATTERS – CHAPTER 22: The Dear Ray Letter

Ray reads Einstein's farewell letter

I tried unsuccessfully to contact the Professor and after a few tries I finally left him a somewhat cryptic voice mail:

“Hi Professor, it’s Ray calling on Sunday at 2:20 in the afternoon, please give me a call as soon as you can. There’s been a new development that you should know about. Come to think of it, it would be better if instead of calling, you could stop by my apartment. I’ll send you the pin. I’m not going anywhere, so anytime will be fine. Thanks.”

“Well, that’s that,” I told Gina, who was getting ready to leave.

“I have to stop by the office to make sure everything’s in place for tomorrow’s Chronologix presentation. Please keep me in the loop. I mean that Ray, whatever’s happening with you is really serious.”

I escorted her to the door and as soon as she was gone I heard his voice again.

“Zat young voman is special to you isn’t sche?”

“Yes she is,” I said smiling.

“I like her, sche’s ein Princetonian. From 1933 to 1955 I vorked at zee Institute for Advanced Schtudies in zee town of Princeton und lectured regularly at zee Univerzity, vich, by zee vay, has produced zirty-zeven Nobel laureates. Mostly phyzicists und mathematicians.”

“She knows you’ve been here. The pipe smell gave you away.”

“Hmm ja, zee lingering scent of pipe tobacco. I uzed to step outzide zee room vere I’d been smoking zo I could reenter it a few minutes later und enjoy zee aroma better. It feels different vile one’s smoking. It is ein rather pleazant smell ven compared to zee very much offenzive cigar und cigarette stench.”

“Forget about the pipe smell. Listen, all this time I’ve made my peace with the fact that you could very well be a figment of my imagination, but now…”

“Relax Ray, I’ve come to zay goodby.”

“What? Why? Where are you going?”

“There’s nothing elze for me to do here. It’s all your doing from now on.”

I was about to ask him what was it that I was supposed to do when he simply raised his hand signaling me to hold my tongue and listen to him.

“I’m not good at farevells zo I vrote you zomething in your compuder. It’s been ein real pleazure knoving you Ray Young. Now if you’ll excuze me I’ll find mein vay to zee door.”

And just like that my strange visitor, the one I had come to believe was truly Albert Einstein, turned around and walked away through the same door Gina had used a few minutes earlier. I stood motionless staring at it for a while, hoping that it was all a joke and that he would come back. I had grown fond of the old man. After a while I slowly turned around and went to my computer. His message was on the screen.

 

Dear Ray:

It will probably be hard for you to accept the true nature of what has transpired here this past week. I know my presence has defied all logic and made you question your own sanity. Everything will become clear in due time and regardless of what others might think in the days to come, rest assured that all will be well in Ray Young’s mind.

You are a creative director, a concept man. Viewing situations from a new or unexpected angle is what you do for a living. Imagination is what fuels your everyday life. As you may know, I believe that imagination is everything. Without it there would be no new inventions or new developments. The raising of new questions, new possibilities, requires creative imagination. Knowledge is what we already know, but imagination is a preview of life’s coming attractions. Unfortunately the establishment many times values knowledge more than it does creativity. It will always fight new ideas that promote change because it feels threatened. It perceives the acceptance of a change in paradigm as an acknowledgement of having being wrong instead of it being part of an evolution process.

During this process you have come up with a new hypothesis for the nature of time. But you’re not a physicist or an astrophysicist, so the establishment will not take your ideas seriously. In the beginning it will ignore you completely. If compelled to acknowledge your ideas then it will ridicule them and try to discredit you.

Remember that when you rattle a cage, the creature inside feels threatened. That’s why some members of the establishment will even call you crazy and disregard your ideas as those of someone who knows nothing about how the universe works. They will say that I must be turning in my grave, but we both know that’s a physical impossibility ;-). They will call you many names and discredit your ideas. But somewhere there’s going to be a young physicist who will come in contact with your concept and think that there might be something there. That physicist will follow the procedures accepted by the establishment, will do the math the way it should be done, discard what doesn’t work, keep what does work and someday that person will present a solid thesis inspired by your story.

It’s been a pleasure working with you Ray, and if anybody tries to make you feel like an unknowledgeable clod, tell them that the true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination. Tell them Albert Einstein said so.

 

After reading his message I was convinced I lacked the knowledge of the language needed to express how I felt. I got up and walked zombie-like to the kitchen to get me a cup of much needed java. The canister where I kept the ground coffee was empty so I opened the cupboard where I stored the extra coffee. A small plastic bag was peeking out from behind a new can of a Puerto Rican gourmet brand. Pulled the can out of the cupboard and there it was: a pipe with a bag of tobacco.

I felt nauseous. I heard a knock on the door but the whole room started to spin and I lost consciousness.

TIME MATTERS – CHAPTER 23: Bedside Manners

Image of ghostly figure in hospital room bed

I woke up quite disoriented… on a bed that wasn’t mine… in a room I couldn’t recognize. Professor Murdock was seating by the door reading something on his iPhone. He noticed me waking up and approached the bed.

“Welcome back to the world of the living Raymond. You gave us quite a scare back there.”

“Where am I?”

“St. Joseph’s Hospital.”

“What? Why? I asked still groggy.

“I got your message yesterday asking me to stop by your apartment, but when I arrived nobody answered the door. Figured you had gone out and decided to leave, but as I walked through the lobby I casually mentioned to the security guard that you weren’t in. He found that curious because Ms. Caulder had left just a bit earlier and you hadn’t been through his station after that.

“I told him about the message asking me to stop by and he got worried. Exaggeratedly so, I might add. He asked me in a heavy Scottish accent to accompany him back up to your apartment, and once upstairs he knocked on your door and dialed your phone with no answer to either. He then called somebody to ask for authorization to enter the apartment using what he referred to as ‘the security protocol’. After explaining the situation to whoever was at the other end of the line he got authorized to enter.”

“His name is Alastair. The security guard’s name is Alastair,” I interjected.

“A very nice fellow. A little rough on the edges, but very capable. Anyway, once inside we found you unconscious on the kitchen floor. That’s when Alastair called 911 and we ended up here,” said the Professor gesturing with his arms to show me the hospital room. “The doctor says you need plenty of rest because the whole chain of events was most probably caused by acute exhaustion. They still have to do some tests but that’s the initial prognosis.”

“What do you mean by the whole chain of events?”

The Professor’s answer was delayed by the entrance of Gina and Bob.

“Oh good, you’re back with us,” said Bob. “Sorry it took us so long to get here buddy but the Chronologix presentation kept dragging on an on.”

“That’s usually a good sign in a new business pitch. Good for you guys!” I said.

“Well you know how it is. These things can be very unpredictable. Some times they make you feel like you hit the ball out of the ballpark and then give the assignment to somebody else. So we’ll do all the follow-up antics during the next couple of days and keep our fingers crossed. We’ll know for sure in a week. How are you feeling?” said Bob.

“Dizzy… a bit unfocused… like I’ve been disconnected from reality for ages. How long was I out?”

“Close to 24 hours,” said Gina. “I got here last night after Alastair called…”

“Alastair called you?” I asked surprised.

“Of course he did. You added me to the list of people to call in an emergency. You remember that don’t you? I tend to agree with him that finding you unconscious on the floor of your apartment qualifies as an emergency. Anyway that’s not all he did. He also made sure that the people in the hospital knew that the Professor and I were authorized by you to receive information regarding your medical condition.”

“Wow, I didn’t know he could do that,” I said.

“Which brings me to the point at hand before you two arrived,” said Professor Murdock. “You’re here today Ray because of a whole chain of events that started way before you started seeing this Einstein character.”

“What Einstein character?” asked Bob.

“We’ll explain to you later Bob,” said Gina.

“You had been working very long hours and sleeping poorly for a while,” said the Professor, “and that brought forth an exhaustion induced brief psychotic disorder during which two things happened. First you bought a pipe and some tobacco and started smoking it without any recollection of doing so. That’s what caused the blister on your tongue by the way. Then the pipe smoking served as a trigger for the Einstein hallucinations.”

“So Einstein was never there…” I said with a hint of sadness, “but it all felt so real. It still does…”

“All in your head,” said Gina.

“And speaking of that, I brought something that will make your head feel a lot better,” said Bob as he got a Stanford cap out of a paper bag and placed it on my head. “Don’t you feel a lot smarter now? I figured you would need one after Saturday’s YO! Bowl.”

I took the cap off my head and looked at it while pondering the consequences of my alma mater losing the Notre Dame/Stanford game.(1)

“Thanks for the gesture Bob, I’ll be sure to wear it when I get back to the office,” I said sarcastically.

“I’ll have the cameras ready to go,” said a grinning Bob.

A nurse came in the room and announced that visiting hours would be over in 10 minutes. Gina said something to the nurse that I couldn’t hear and soon after, everybody said their goodbyes and I dozed off again… just to ‘wake up’ almost immediately back in the Anteverse.

 

(1) For the details on the consequences Ray has to face due to Notre Dame losing to Stanford  see CHAPTER 16: Bowl Time Revelations

TIME MATTERS – CHAPTER 24: Mind Over Matter

Dreamlike image of man running in the clouds

I opened my eyes to find myself back in the Anteverse.

“You’ve been a pretty busy man,” said a voice behind me.

I turned around and came face to face with the unearthly Timekeeper.

“The materializing process associated with your ideas has been pretty interesting,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Although ideas are immaterial, pure energy constructs if you will, they do produce actions in the material realm.”

“I don’t understand…”

“As you lay in a hospital bed, people are reacting to your ideas and furthering the concepts you’ve brought forth.”

“But how can that be? I haven’t…”

“Your friend the Professor has been making inquiries. And those queries have prompted other minds to question their previous beliefs. Your ideas on time have taken on a life of their own Ray.”

“But ideas are energy, as you said; how do you come in contact with them in the materializing process?”

“Ideas shape the present. Many times in the human experience matter is shaped by the ideas that first envision its form.

“Some people believe that what happens in the mind is not real, but the truth is that everything that transpires in the energy universe residing in your brain is as real as the material world around you. Even the most outlandish ramblings of a mad person are real because they exist in our reality. The only difference between the energy constructs within our mind and the physical ones around us is the presence of matter in the latter. But matter is not what makes something real. If such were the case, then we would have to conclude that feelings like love, pride, and gratefulness don’t exist.

“This is important because it would be erroneous to believe that your interactions with Einstein didn’t happen because they only occurred in your head.”

“But the doctors…” I interrupted.

“The doctors gave you their diagnosis and I ask you: did it say that nothing happened?”

“No of course not, it said that I had some sort of psychotic disorder.”

“That’s right. And that diagnosis certifies that the events, which transpired inside your mind, did in fact occur. As I said before, everything that happens in your mind is real. And by definition, so are dreams like this one. If you take only one thing with you from this experience let it be to keep on dreaming Ray. Dreams define the shape the world takes in the future. Einstein once said that imagination is a preview of life’s coming attractions and if so, then I would say that dreams are the trailers.”

As the Timekeeper talked I felt myself being pulled away from his realm back to the hospital bedroom. It was dark but I could see Gina sitting next to my bed reading something on her iPad. There was a knock on the door and a nurse came in with some pills for me to take.

“What time is it?” I asked Gina as soon as the nurse left.

“Close to midnight,” she said.

“This might be the medications talking, but I could have sworn I saw you leave with the others once visiting hours were over.”

“I did, but just to pick some stuff in my car, and then came back up. Talked to the head nurse about staying with you for the night.”

“I thought you didn’t babysit coworkers,” I said with a smirk.

“Ray, Ray, Ray you can be so dense for some things. Of course I don’t baby sit coworkers,” she said and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

 

EPILOGUE

Commencement day at Princeton University some years later… Gina and I are walking hand in hand through the beautiful campus.

“I really liked the main speaker’s speech,” said Gina.

“Absolutely. I read some of his work on the matter of time and found it fascinating. It’s amazing what brilliant scientific minds can do with science-fiction concepts. They always find a way to make the impossible a reality. He deserved the Nobel,” I said.

“And look at you, with a Princeton degree.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I said kissing her.

“Well, you’re a Tiger now.”

“An Irish Tiger,” I said.

“That sounds German… Irishteiger,” said Gina smiling.

On a bench close by, an old man lowered the newspaper he was reading, looked at me and winked. I could have sworn he looked exactly like Albert Einstein.

 

T  H  E     E  N  D

 

Please help keep the stories flowing…

THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 1: Moonbeam

Full Moon over the ocean

Lucas Aldrich was already sipping his margarita at the Mexican restaurant when his daughter arrived.

“Hey Dad! Sorry I’m late. Clients sometimes forget that one needs to have lunch.”

“Don’t worry about it Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam was Lucas’ nickname for his daughter Vega. The moniker’s inspiration was a TV interview he had seen of Astronaut Gene Cernan’s daughter in the early 70’s in which she claimed her father had promised to bring her a moonbeam from his trip to the Moon. One day, many years ago, while playing with her daughter, Lucas tied a beach towel around his neck and called himself Rocket Man. Little Vega wanted to be a superhero too, and he suggested the name so they could become the space adventurers Rocket Man and Moonbeam. She loved it and the nicknames evolved into terms of endearment between them. The fact that Vega developed a keen interest in her father’s two favorite hobbies – baseball and the 1960’s space race, helped perpetuate their special sobriquets.

But that was a long time ago and now she was a very busy professional woman so a while ago they had started a tradition of having lunch together, just the two of them every Wednesday rain or shine. Nice father/daughter quality time. This time it was at their favorite Mexican restaurant.

“Hey Rocket Man, easy on the tequila, you’re not so young anymore.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” he said.

“I didn’t say old, I said not so young.”

“Leave it to lawyers to nitpick about the language.”

“Hey you’re in communications. You’re the one who taught me to be meticulous about the words I choose to express an idea.”

A waiter briefly interrupted the conversation to ask Vega what she wanted to drink. She ordered a frozen margarita and asked for a minute to decide on an appetizer. They went with their usual chihuahuas with jalapeños.

“So, how’s everything? How did it go with Dalia’s aunt?” Vega asked her father.

A couple of weeks ago Vega had introduced Lucas to her colleague Dalia’s aunt, a pretty attractive divorcée that she thought would be a good match for her widowed father. They seemed to hit it off, and during their last lunch together Lucas mentioned they were going out on a date that following Friday.

“It was OK,” said Lucas matter-of-factly, “she’s a very smart woman…”

“Buuuuut…” said Vega waiting for the perennial ‘but’ that her father had her accustomed to.

“I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. I just couldn’t find a meaningful connection.”

“Dad, Mom died ten years ago.  I know her absence still hurts but It’s time to move on. No one will be like her, but you must give yourself a chance to experience a meaningful relationship with someone different.”

“I guess I’m just not ready yet Moonbeam. Not ready,” said Lucas looking at his margarita.

“Sorry Dad, I didn’t mean… I just want you to be happy.”

Vega’s frozen margarita arrived with the spicy chihuahuas and before they both dug in they ordered lunch. Again, no surprises there, a Swiss burrito for Lucas and chicken fajitas for Vega.

“Did you watch the game last night?” she asked changing the topic.

“You bet I did, the Indians came from behind in the ninth inning. Sorry about your Yankees,” said Lucas.

“This is the year… right,” said Vega smiling.

Lucas was a Cleveland Indians fan, a major league franchise that hadn’t won a championship since 1948. But being a fan of such a hard luck team wasn’t always the case for him. In the 70’s Lucas was a hardcore fan of the Cincinnati Reds – the fabled Big Red Machine. And in his hometown he cheered for a local team called the Lions. Both enjoyed several championship runs when he was a kid. Then in the 1990’s he saw a movie called Major League and he became infatuated with the then hapless Indians.

“This is the year,” said Lucas smiling and winking at his daughter.

“Are you playing fantasy baseball this year?” asked Vega.

“Oh yeah, the Red Lions are at it again and we are off to a good start. We play the Kitty Hawks tonight.”

“Kitty Hawks as in the Wright Brothers’ Kitty Hawk?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh nothing, just found it curious. The manager must be either an aviation enthusiast or a space race buff like you.”

Vega, like her father, knew that Neil Armstrong, the man famous for being the first man to step on the Moon, had carried during his Apollo 11 mission, a piece of fabric and a piece of wood from the flyer the Wright brothers had successfully tested at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina in 1903.

“Yeah, he must be…” said Lucas suddenly deep in thought.

 

 

Please help keep the stories flowing…

THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 4: The Patch Collection

Image of binder containing Vega's collection of Apollo mission patches in front of her bedroom closet

Vega entered her apartment after another long day at the law firm, and went straight to her bedroom closet. There, on the top shelf, was the cardboard box she was looking for. From it she pulled out a three-ring binder with gold lettering embossed on its black cover.

It was his father’s old collection of the Apollo program mission patches. He had given it to her when she was 10 years old. His way of showing her how much he loved that she shared his interest for the space race. This had always been one of her most precious possessions. A treasured symbol of the special bond she had with her dad.

Since lunch, a little voice kept telling her to look into that collection. She began staring at the colorful embroidered patches in the album without really searching for anything in particular. While doing so she could hear her father explaining them to her like it was yesterday.

“The Apollo astronauts had a lot to say about their mission patches. Some of them even took it upon themselves to design theirs. Looking at them is like taking a trip into the astronauts’ minds,” he told her the first time he showed her the collection. And then he would go through each one of them explaining their missions.

Apollo 1 mission patchApollo 1’s patch irony was not lost on her. She couldn’t help thinking about the astronauts’ family members while staring at the patch showing a command module orbiting Earth.  A mission that never left the launch pad where a fire ended the life of astronauts Gus Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee.

The mission numbers then jumped from one to seven. According to NASA there were some unmanned missions between 1 and 7. Her father always doubted their official numbering story.

Apollo 7 mission patch“The mission commander for Apollo 7 was Walter Schirra, one of the Mercury seven original astronauts,” her father would say.  “After the Apollo 1 tragedy, NASA needed all the positive vibes available in the universe. So they went with lucky number seven. Remember that all the Mercury missions used that same number and they were all successful. Of course NASA would never accept they were as superstitious as the next guy so they came up with this cockamamie story about obscure unmanned missions that only they knew about, or understood for that matter.”

Vega noted something she hadn’t before in the Apollo 7 patch. Although the key visuals on it were similar to Apollo 1’s – they both featured a command module orbiting Earth – on this one the ship’s engine was lighted while on Apollo 1’s it wasn’t. Did the astronauts do that on purpose? You know, to indicate that this one would get off the ground… and avoid their predecessor’s fate after featuring what could be referred to as a dead engine in their patch. Was this superstition at work again? She wondered… but moved on.

Apollo 8 mission patchApollo 8’s had always been her favorite – a very sleek design that featured a red “8” denoting both the mission number, and the circumlunar trajectory of the mission. The design was first conceived by mission astronaut Jim Lovell who then prepared a sketch and gave it to the NASA artist in charge of the project.

Apollo 9 mission patchApollo 9’s mission patch was probably the least appealing of them all. Her father used to compare it to an elementary school textbook diagram. She moved over quickly to the Apollo 10 patch – another one of her favorites. Apollo 10 mission patchA pretty busy design, unlike Apollo 8’s sleek one, but somehow it worked in a very pleasant manner. Mission astronauts Young and Cernan designed it and its shield-like outer shape gave it a space ranger flair.

She turned the page and came face to face with the most famous patch in the history of space flight – Apollo 11’s landing eagle insignia.

“This one here is where it all started,” her father would tell her. “When I was a little kid I swallowed NASA’s official version regarding the meaning of this design. The eagle with the olive branch in its talons representing the United States going to the Moon in peace. And no astronaut names on it because the feat was an achievement for all humanity. But as I grew older I started to feel there was another more revealing meaning to it.”

Apollo 11 mission insigniaThe first time he said that my eyes opened up like Frisbees, thought Vega.

“Mission astronaut Michael Collins designed the insignia,” he would go on, “and I truly believe he and the rest of the crew decided to leave their names out of it for another reason. In case they didn’t land on the Moon and had to go to their backup plan. The one  in which only the image of the United States accomplishes it. What if their real mission was to make the world believe they had landed regardless of whether or not they did.  Back then, there was a great deal of pressure on NASA to fulfill Kennedy’s dream. Plus the reputation of the United States was on the line. Not to mention the political pressure associated to the Soviet Union’s parallel efforts to reach our companion in the cosmos.”

But they did land on the Moon Dad, Vega could hear herself say with the innocence of a ten year old.

“The United States did, yes,” he would say, “but not Apollo 11. To the astronauts’ credit, they tried, but had to abort and go with the backup plan – make the world believe they did.”

Vega was incredulous the first time she heard her father’s theory. Then, after reading a great deal about the Apollo missions through the years she had to conclude that something didn’t quite match. Especially suspicious were those of Apollo 12 and 13, just ahead of the Kitty Hawk mission.

THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 5: The Tell Tale Missions

Psychodelic juxtaposition of the Apollo 13 crew against a scene from Hair

As fate would have it, while Vega was going through the Apollo missions’ patch collection, Lucas was watching the Indians game on TV and reviewing some of his old notes on the Apollo program. His theory on the hidden missions of Apollo 12 and 13 still sounded valid after all these years.

In the summer of 1969 NASA was not ready to land on the Moon. They had known since 1968 that it was nearly impossible to do so, but the pressure to fulfill Kennedy’s dream was enormous and there was no room for failure in that respect. The President’s words were crystal clear: “Land a man on the Moon before this decade is out.” The end of the given timeframe was approaching fast and the powers that were at the space agency panicked.

By December of 1968 the lunar module was still not ready. That’s why Apollo 8 went all the way to the Moon without it during Christmas. The first manned test of the lunar module in space didn’t happen until March 1969. The problems with the machine were widely known through all spheres at NASA. So, they developed a secondary protocol of missions. One that would be put in motion if the primary mission couldn’t be carried out due to any type of malfunction on the lunar module. This secondary protocol was structured to foster the public perception that NASA had been successful in achieving Kennedy’s goal.

After all these years Lucas still hadn’t figured out exactly how they did it but he had a general idea of what the plan entailed. And he did because the astronauts had been good soldiers but better fellow citizens. They had worked through the NASA smoke screen to leave clues as to the true state of the endeavor. Starting with Apollo 11 and following up with 12 and 13.

He truly believed that Apollo 11 never landed on the Moon. And some of the most compelling proof is found in the clues left by the astronauts of the next two missions.

The astronauts, besides meddling with their mission patches, had a lot to say regarding their spacecrafts’ call signs as well. The name of the Apollo 12 command module was “Yankee Clipper” and its lunar module was “Intrepid”. Employees of the ships’ prime contractors suggested both monikers. It felt almost as if the astronauts didn’t have much interest in it. Apollo 12 mission patchFurthermore, the mission patch had a clipper ship sailing around the Moon as if to convey the idea of never stopping at that port. But, with regards to that mission, what knocked the ball out of the park for Lucas was the fact that the video camera got damaged. There was no video feed from the Moon!

From Apollo 11 the world saw a very grainy video supposedly from the “surface of the Moon”, and from Apollo 12 got plenty of visuals from inside the spacecraft and nothing from our satellite’s surface. How convenient!

Apollo 13 mission patchApollo 13 seemed more obvious. So much so that it makes the world back then look extremely naive. By April of 1970, since public perception was that the U.S. had already beaten the Soviets in the Space Race, American society was rapidly losing interest in their own nation’s Moon landings. Lucas believed  NASA designed this mission to heighten public interest on the program again. The truth is that, in hindsight, everything about it seems pretty well planned from the communications standpoint. Starting with the selection of “Odyssey” for the command module’s call sign. It was as if the astronauts knew beforehand what their voyage would become.

But even more revealing was the lunar module’s number. It was LM-7. Lucky seven!  Apollo 13 had lunar module number 7. As if they knew  that particular spacecraft was going to be their lucky charm and lifeboat for the unlucky 13th mission. Add to that the name “Aquarius” and you have a Hollywoodesque script.

The Age of Aquarius

Remember this was the spring of 1970, and just a year earlier a song titled “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In” from the musical “Hair” was topping the charts. Lucas had written some of the lyrics of the song in his notebook:

When the moon is in the Seventh House
And Jupiter aligns with Mars
Then peace will guide the planets
And love will steer the stars
This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius
Age of Aquarius
Aquarius
Aquarius

Harmony and understanding
Sympathy and trust abounding
No more falsehoods or derisions
Golden living dreams of visions
Mystic crystal revelation
And the mind’s true liberation
Aquarius
Aquarius

The first verse mentions the Moon, the planets and the stars and ends with the statement that this is the dawning of a new age – the Age of Aquarius. Then the second verse tells us what that age is all about including “no more falsehoods and derisions, golden living dreams of visions”. Lucas did not buy for a moment that this was a coincidence. It was obvious to him they selected the name “Aquarius” because that particular lunar module was pivotal in the astronaut’s assignment’s drama. The center stage from which they were to pave the way for the truly historic mission. The one that would both end the phase of lies and finally see Kennedy’s dream come to life. It represented the last lie and thus the dawning of the age of truth.

THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 6: Houston, Do You Copy?

Montage of Houston Astros Logo over LBJ Spece Center display and old photo of the Wright Brothers Kitty Hawk flight

The night before, the Indians lost to the Yankees in extra innings with the Bronx Bombers coming from behind, and over in the fantasy league Lucas’ Red Lions lost to the Kitty Hawks by a run. Nevertheless, in that particular morning those results felt perfect for they gave Lucas a good excuse to contact the Hawks’ manager again.

He sat down on his computer and wrote the man a message while sipping his first cup of morning coffee.

“Congratulations on the win. Looking forward to our next match. By the way, I’ll be in Houston on a business trip next week, and I see you chose the Astros’ logo for your Kitty Hawks. Are you familiar with the city? Any recommendations as to where to go for a good dinner?” he wrote.

The Houston trip was a lie but it was the only thing he could think of to get the man back on the topic which could lead to the information he was interested in. He had been to the city once for the wedding of a college friend hence he felt confident he could answer with credibility any questions regarding the fake trip. He looked once more at the written message to make sure it was perfect, and then clicked on the send button.

After showering he started his day’s work. An hour or so later he got a call from Vega.

“Hey Sweetie, good morning! What’s up?”

“Well, Mr. Dashing you,” she said in a sassy tone, “I just talked to Dalia and she told me that in her aunt’s opinion you were a real life Prince Charming during last Friday’s date(1). Not bad for a man who’s not interested.”

“Well, you know me, I always try to make the other person feel comfortable.”

“Oh come on, you’re not a sofa. You were enjoying her company and couldn’t help being your adorable and fascinating self.”

“It wasn’t on purpose Moonbeam.”

“Sure Dad, whatever you say. It’s just nice to hear about you having a good time on a date. It makes me happy. Anyway, I thought about you a lot last night.”

“Oh really! What about?”

“I was going through the old patch collection.”

“No kidding? The Apollo mission patches?”

“Yep, I could hear you explaining them to me like it was yesterday. It was a nice trip down memory lane.”

“Funny you mention that because last night I was poring over my old Space Race notebook. Weird, don’t you think?”

“We’ve always been connected. Listen, I’ve been wondering…” said Vega, “is there any way you could find out the real name of the Kitty Hawks’ manager?”

“Already on it.  I’ve had a couple of exchanges with him through the fantasy league’s messaging system.”

“Oh really? Anything interesting?”

“Well, for starters, he told me he grew up near Dayton, Ohio. Do you know who  else was born an hour away from Dayton?”

“Well, John Glenn, Neil Armstrong and Jim Lovell were born in Ohio…”

Yes, but only Armstrong grew up near Dayton.”

“Hmm, don’t jump to conclusions just yet Rocket Man. Keep talking to him. My advice is, don’t be direct. Try to make the man paint himself into a corner by asking innocent sounding questions that allow you to discard other identity options. Oh, and don’t forget, if he is who you think he is, you’re dealing with a very smart person. Don’t try to reel him in with transparent stuff. Listen, I got  to get ready for a deposition, but keep me posted. Ok?”

“Sure Moonbeam, have a great day.”

It wasn’t until after lunch that Lucas got an answer from the Kitty Hawks’ manager.

“A close one,  but I’ll take it any day :-)”, he wrote. “If you like the classic steakhouse menu your best bet is Brenner’s. It’s been there forever and for good reason.”

Lucas didn’t want to waste time in idle chat so he went straight to the point.

“What about the Kennedy Space Center? Is it worth a visit?”

“I’m guessing you mean the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center, right?”

“Yep, sorry about that. The ‘Houston we have a problem’ one.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a very common mistake. The LBJ Space Center is a nice visit if you’re into that sort of stuff.”

Lucas decided to go for all the marbles.

“The Space Race has always been one of my favorite topics. As a matter of fact, Apollo 14’s lunar module was called Kitty Hawk,” he wrote. “Funny that you chose the Houston Astros H logo for your Kitty Hawks. Where you aware of the connection?”

Lucas waited for an answer but the minutes passed and nothing came back. Should he interpret that as good or bad news?

Over in southwestern Ohio an old man stared at his computer pondering his next move.

 

(1)Vega talked to Lucas about this date in Chapter 1: Moonbeam.

THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 7: The Chat Check

Concept art of two persons chatting about baseball and the Moon

Before carrying on his chat with the Red Lions’ manager, the old man thought it would be a good idea to show it to his wife.

“Hey Carol, take a look at this.”

She put on her reading glasses and read the brief conversation.

“Do you think he smells a rat regarding your choice of name? ” she asked.

“I don’t know. But a little voice tells me that the question about the Apollo 14/Kitty Hawk connection is not an innocent one. He’s fishing for something.”

“So, are you going to answer him?”

“Still thinking it over… You know,  the fact that he made the association makes me wonder if he might be the person for my plan. What do you think?”

“Honey, you don’t even know what this man, or woman for that matter, does for a living. Much less whether he or she has the interest or the capabilities to come through with it. What you want done requires a very specific skill set.”

The old man pondered his wife’s statement and started typing on his computer.

“Wow, that’s a connection few people could make nowadays,” he wrote to the Red Lions’ manager. “What do you do for a living? Are you in any way related to the aerospace industry?”

The answer came fast.

“Hey, I thought I’d lost you there for a while.  I’m in advertising. The Space Race is just a hobby,” wrote the Red Lions’ manager.

The old man kept pushing the envelope.

“Are you one of those conspiracy theorists that believe the whole thing was a hoax?”

“No those are just a bunch of lunatics with too much time on their hands and and even more free space in their brain cavities,” read the answer.

The old man liked what he was reading so far and decided to probe the other end of the spectrum.

“So you’re a NASA fan huh.”

“Not exactly. I’m a fan of the astronauts and the engineers that sacrificed everything to accomplish the seemingly impossible. With regards to NASA I think the bigwigs there in the Sixties were not as truthful as they should have been with the American public and the world audience.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that the Apollo program was successful in taking mankind to the Moon but the landings didn’t take place the way NASA wanted us to believe.”

“So… you are a conspiracy theorist?”

“I have a theory of what really transpired and it differs significantly from the ones professed by the garden variety of conspiracy theorists. Those are full of crap. If my theory is correct, it would imply that some people over at NASA coordinated efforts to bring forth a plan with the intention of making the public believe something that was not true. I guess that would be tantamount to a conspiracy at NASA. Still, to answer your question: I have a theory yes, and it involves some sort of conspiracy yes, but I refuse to describe myself as a conspiracy theorist ;-)”

“You remind me of Richard Gere tap dancing in the musical Chicago while trying to sell a tricky legal argument,” said the old man.

“Yeah, sorry about that. My daughter’s a lawyer,” said the Red Lions’ manager before adding something that caught the old man off-guard. “By the way, call me Lucas.”

Nope, not yet Mr. Lucas, thought the old man, no name from my end today. But I’ll keep asking questions for as long as you keep answering them.

“Very well, nice talking to you Lucas. Good luck in tonight’s game,” he wrote before signing off.

Lucas felt confident he was on the right track regarding the man’s identity, especially after he avoided giving his name.

THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 8: A Night at The Bar

Shadowy figure in front of bar

Vega’s deposition took almost all day. She was physically and emotionally drained. Most deposition witnesses are difficult, but this one knocked the ball out of the park. The man named Geoffrey Rousseau had obviously been advised by counsel to be as evasive and vague as possible thus making the discovery procedure an uphill battle for Vega’s team. Trying to get any meaningful information out of a witness who is combative, unresponsive, overly and conveniently forgetful, purposefully slow and generally intent in making the deposition go nowhere is always a draining challenge.

One of Vega’s most colorful characteristics was that she always kept a black baseball bat next to her desk. She had named it Betsy after the legendary Shoeless Joe Jackson’s bat Black Betsy. Well, that night, after struggling for eight hours with such an ass of a witness, she wanted Betsy to have a close encounter of the third kind with Geoffrey’s head.

When it was finally over, she needed a drink badly. The whole legal team did, so they went to their favorite watering hole. The place, named simply The Bar, was an establishment designed to cater to members of the legal profession. With cocktail names like Objection, Hung Jury and Guilty Verdict the joint was a favorite for barristers of all kinds – from the ambulance chaser to the mega firm junior partner.

“There was a moment when I thought you were going to introduce Geoffrey to Betsy,” said Dalia to Vega while nursing a specialty beer named Beyond a Reasonable Stout.

“You have no idea how close I was,” said Vega who didn’t go for any of the fancy named drinks and was enjoying the silky smoothness of a single malt on the rocks. “What an asshole.”

“Well, on that subject and on behalf of Oliver, Martin & Simon Law Offices, thanks for saving the firm some bail money today Vega,” said David Roman, Vega’s boss and one of the firm’s most promising junior partners.

“Yeah, anytime Dave. It takes a lot more than a Geoffrey Rousseau to make me lose it.”

“Switching to a more pleasant topic,” said Dalia, “did you tell your Dad what my aunt said about him after their date?”

“I did.”

“Aaaand…” said Dalia prompting Vega for more details.

Before Vega could say anything, Mr. Martin, one of the firm’s senior partners, entered The Bar and quickly approached the group, interrupting their conversation.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, can I steal Mr. Roman for a few minutes?” he said.

The junior partner got to his feet and followed Mr. Martin to a table where two other men waited. Vega and Dalia found the whole thing a bit odd and watched subtly from the distance.

The two unknown men seemed to have been there for a while and it was obvious they were the ones in charge of the conversation. Mr. Martin was taking care of the firm’s side of it while David remained mostly quiet.

After a few minutes, Mr. Martin accompanied David back to the firm team’s table.

“I hereby return your boss safe and in one piece,” he said to the group. “Sorry for the interruption. Dave please have the firm take care of the tab.”

“Will do Mr. Martin, and thanks.”

And just like that, the senior partner left The Bar.

“What was that all about?” Vega asked David.

“Oh nothing, just forerunners for a potential new client.”

“Must be a very important one to have Mr. Martin involved,” commented Dalia.

“One with very deep pockets,” said Oscar Levi the youngest member of their legal team.

David remained quiet throughout the speculation process. A smile here and there but not a single word. He couldn’t share anything with the group and besides, he was still processing the information he had been made privy to and wasn’t sure how to go about it. He needed time to think.

The task wasn’t hard, he just didn’t like what he had been asked to do to one of the members of his team.

 

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