Bad Vibes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
December 21, 2012 the world will change forever.

Submitted: September 17, 2009

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Submitted: September 17, 2009

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Bad Vibes
“Shortly after the recovery of alien bodies from the wreckage at Roswell in 1947, President Truman organized the MJ-12 to collect intelligence on UFOs. Soon after President Eisenhower founded the Jason Society, a group of scholars in charge of evaluating data about UFOs and making contact with alien life forms. Through the years these societies and others like them have merged into the Illuminati…”
I stared at the computer screen, my eyes growing dry from the long hours I’d spent searching for information about the Illuminati. The term had been completely foreign to me up until six months ago. An old friend of mine, Jack, introduced it to me on a lazy summer afternoon. He called me out of the blue to get together one day. I hadn’t seen him in about three years, though we tried to keep in touch despite the absence. We still sent each other the yearly Christmas card. Occasionally we sent an email here and there, but even that had started to trickle down a bit. I was eager to reconnect with him and I met up with him on a weekend in late June at an old favorite fishing spot of ours just four hours northwest of New York City. His wife Jenny made all of the arrangements. She booked the cabin the moment I named a date. She was very anxious for Jack to get some relaxation and expressed so to me repeatedly. He had been let go from his job and it had taken its toll on him. Jenny couldn’t stand another day of his puttering around aimlessly and his unwillingness to talk about his depression only exasperated matters further. She had hopes that I could bring him back to his former self. I was not so sure that I could after laying eyes on him that day. Three years had done much to age him. I hardly recognized him at first. If it hadn’t been for his signature fly fishing hat, I might not have. He arrived at the cabin looking quite disheveled. Worry and despair were etched on his face. I grabbed him and gave him a hearty hug that walked a fine line between manly and compassionate, which was not well received I might add. Jack gave me the “not you too” look and he broke free from the one- second too long embrace. He was a strong man and didn’t take well to pity. It was hard for me to view him as pathetic; it was a color that he didn’t wear well. We both shook it off however, and before we knew it we were in a more familiar setting, rehashing old stories of times gone by. We had been afloat in the middle of Otsego Lake when I assumed that he had downed one too many beers. He started the conversation with the very generic, “How long have we known each other?” I knew that he was about to lay something disturbing on me. I, being an attorney, feared the worst. It was however an incredible tale of a secret society known as the Illuminati. I looked at my friend in feigned interest, until I could no longer hold my composure and I burst into laughter. It did anger him and at that moment I believed, that he believed what he was telling me was true. I did what any good friend would do, I humored him. The grey at his temples was slick with sweat as he spoke and he mopped his forehead with an old rag occasionally to soak up the rest. The afternoon air was mild and I contributed his condition to his paranoid state.
Jack worked for NASA for the past twenty-five years and was no stranger to conspiracy theories. He admitted to there being a grain of truth to the so-called Project Blue Beam. The original story circulating on the internet was that NASA was planning to shine the beam into the sky and claim that it was an alien invasion. It would supposedly falsify all religion by causing doubt to be cast on their origins. People would be torn between believing in a God in heaven and a God from another galaxy. Friction from the dissension of the two beliefs would create mass hysteria. The subsequent result would be an establishment of a new unified religion, a new world order. NASA had such a beam Jack explained, but it wasn’t designed to instill fear and chaos, it was to be a signal for salvation. Jack did not elaborate further on the subject and instead groped in the cooler for another beer and when in hand, proceeded to chug it greedily. The beam, he explained had been destroyed in an accident at the lab. NASA had been experimenting with sound waves. The objective of their test was to collect data about plasma instabilities and wave-particle interactions. The experiment shook the entire building. Windows, computers, and many other things glass had either shattered or cracked, including the beam’s lens. It was at that moment that Jack had seen them. The force of frequency had rattled their cloaking device, exposing their true scaly form bleeding through their human exterior. He had only seen one, but estimated that there were five. He imagined that they were the ones that ran from the room as everyone else stood frozen, taken by the surprise of the sudden disruption in the office. Jack exhaled heavily as if he were no longer burdened by a huge weight. He looked up at me searching for hope that I would believe him. It was something that he admitted to not quite believing himself, but something that he had seen with his own eyes. Who would believe him? He felt, for lack of a better word, alienated.
He began to search the internet for explanations to what he couldn’t explain himself and found one. The Illuminati were alien-human hybrids that were formed with one objective, world domination. According to what he had read, they had been around for many years. Intergalactic beings that had set their sights on our planet .They preyed on man’s desire for money and power. It was in this greed that they were able to control some of the most wealthy and prominent people. I stared at Jack as his eyes widened with childlike exuberance as he explained how they possessed their hosts with the use of quite subtle frequencies. They were able to inhabit them through vibrations invisible to us. “It’s like a radio,” he said. “It has different channels. Just because you’re only listening to one doesn’t mean the others don’t exist. They have channels all over, “he continued. “They are everywhere and everyone, from the White House to the big screen.” Anyone who was remotely influential was a prime candidate to be a host according to him. They worked together as a whole toward the common goal like the bees in a hive, each with an important task. Although Jack was weaving an unbelievable tale out of internet gobbledygook I found myself curiously engrossed. Some of the things that he touched on made perfect sense. He cited that the government has been covering up alien contact for years, ever since Roswell. Any significant encounter has been investigated, but the abducted have always been discredited. “They were the ones that were taken off of the familiar path, which we as drones follow. Their experiences were quickly debunked. The aliens did their best to make the general public doubt these people. They propagated their own urban legends.” Jack’s words didn’t resonate with me and it must have shown through in my blank expression. “They don’t want us to know about the others. The ones that aren’t here,” he explained. This world was only big enough for one power. There were different species of them, but only one influence and a thorough loyalty to it. It was bred into their genetic code that they worked together as a collective to achieve their goal. Humans were easy to manipulate. The Illuminati would make billions selling oil to them, while preventing inventions of green energy. They would make millions selling treatments for diseases that they already held the cures to. They owned the media that fed them the world at a glance. They did not want another life form setting foot on any part of that world, but they already had. That is how NASA’s beam originated Jack mused. After all of the research he had done, Jack was almost sure of it. An intergalactic “Bat Signal” as he amusingly dubbed it, a distress call that we no longer had. It had been rumored that the lens was given to an abducted scientist who later constructed the beam. He died shortly afterwards of a massive heart attack. In fact, the project seemed to have been scrapped because anyone that was associated with it had either disappeared or dropped dead. It was an enigma to most everyone that Jack knew at NASA. A large white elephant that had been collecting dust for nearly fifty years tucked in the corner of the office. There were holes in my inebriated friend’s theory though and I found myself unavoidably asking, “If the beam posed such a threat to the Illuminati, why didn’t they destroy it sooner?” Jack just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it hadn’t been a threat until then, maybe they didn’t even know what it was for. I don’t know. What I do know is that the Illuminati has no need for such tactics as tricking people into believing that they are God, they are controlling more and more people each day by their own means. They just have to worry about keeping other beings like them away. They don’t need any competition.”
We had been on the lake for the better part of an hour, our fishing rods still without a line in, since Jack began to talk. The sun was just starting to duck behind the evergreens as Jack fell silent. He had more to tell, I could see it in his fidgeting body language. He awkwardly grabbed his rod and grasped the small golden hook at the end of the line. He prodded through the container of worms that had been carelessly left in the sun too long. Rummaging through the soil he found one that still had some life left. It writhed in his hand. Jack stared at it with a look of disgust before tossing it into the lake. “They are using us as bait. They’re using the people that we trust.” He shook with a mounting rage. “It’s my fault! Shit, it’s going to be all my fault!” Jack sobbed. I did my best to calm my inconsolable friend without rocking the boat anymore than the throes of his anguish. I reached out and firmly grasped his arm and told him it would be okay. He composed himself enough to unleash his guilt. It was only weeks before the NASA sound wave incident that Jack had made a surprising discovery. He was in charge of planning trajectories of satellites and spacecrafts so that they would not collide. It was a daily job to monitor their movements and adjust them accordingly, but Jack had figured out a table to determine their position in space from 200 years ago to 2,000 years in the future. In doing this, he also discovered that the Earth itself was spinning at a rate of 3 milliseconds slower than that of the Atomic clock. It may have seemed insignificant, but after the course of 400 days, the clock would be 3 seconds off. Jack could see that he was losing me. “Don’t you see? Time as we know it is corrupted. Today is not Wednesday June 21st, it’s June 20th. If we adjusted the clock to the correct time, Earth’s actual time, it would be yesterday.” I couldn’t wrap my mind around it as hard as I tried and I didn’t understand why Jack was so upset about it either. He went on to explain that the time difference had been such big reason why the Illuminati rituals hadn’t been successful. Many dates that foretold catastrophic events had come and gone. “The Armageddon was long overdue”, he said. That is until he handed it to them on a silver platter.
Dan Burns was one of them, he was the one that Jack saw shapeshift and he was the one that was over Jack’s shoulder when he discovered the time difference. According to Jack, who started to rant like a madman, everything would now align on their astral plane. “The sacrifices held a day earlier at the Great Pyramid on the real December 21, 2012 will take hold. The eye of Horus will open and the human third eye will close, along with mankind’s consciousness. There will be no rescue from the galaxy because there will be no alert of the chaos. Man will exist on only one frequency, their frequency. We will become servants to our new master, hosts for them, and eventually bred out of existence.” Jack sat defeated. He had no more words and I had none to offer him. I pulled the anchor up and paddled to the shore. That was the last time that I ever saw Jack alive. He never made it to the day he had feared, he died of a massive heart attack. At his wake, Jenny gave me an envelope containing a copy of all of Jack’s notes that he had put together for me before he died. To further convince me, no doubt, of the impending takeover. Here I sit in front of my computer’s monitor, its screen emitting an ominous glow which I have been basking in for weeks on end now. Today, according to Jack is the real December 21. Our conversation has never left me. How could it? I have perused the internet ever since, devouring bits and pieces of endless conspiracies, to prove him wrong. Still I have no reason to doubt him. He was a good, good friend of mine.


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