Читать книгу PW-1 - Spencer Scarcello - Страница 6

THE TAPING

Someone peaked their head in the door and said, “They’re ready for you guys.”

“Tell them we will be right there,” Carol answered.

”One last thing,” she said. “Joyce thinks you are here solely for the Food Formula interview. I told her after she introduces you to ask how you came up with the formula. I know this seems a bit sneaky, but we want to get her reactions on tape when you tell your amazing story. Stuff like that is pure gold!”

We entered the studio by going through another security point. Joyce immediately came to meet me and said, “Of all the stories I have done over the years, this is the most exciting. I am truly very pleased to meet you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I said.

“Let me introduce you around,” Joyce offered. She knew everyone’s name and all about them ― the camera people, sound engineers, everyone. The studio was state of the art. Other than the cameras, sound equipment, and monitors, I didn’t recognize anything. We sat down at a solid glass table with the most comfortable chairs I had ever been in.

“In a couple minutes we’ll be starting,” Joyce said. “Pretend it’s just you and me having a conversation over drinks. If you need a break or want to answer a question differently, just say, ‘Stop.’ We are very informal here and want you to feel as comfortable as possible.”

The lights suddenly went up, and from behind me I heard Peter Fallon, the director, say: “Okay, places everyone. At this point we will have just aired about forty-five minutes of the Food Formula story, and Joyce will introduce our guest, Mister Ralph Diamond. In three . . . two . . . one . . . ”

He then pointed at Joyce, who said, “Welcome back. Now the moment we have all been waiting for. It is my distinct pleasure to introduce the man that will end world hunger, Mister Ralph Diamond.”

“Thank you, Joyce,” I said. And as I thought of how much money people are paid for these types of interviews, I suddenly realized why everyone always says, as I did, “It’s a pleasure to be here. Please call me Ral.”

After a few get-to-know-you-type questions, she asked, “How did you come up with this formula ― are you a chemist?”

“Let me tell you a story,” I started. “My wife and I live on forty acres of wooded land in a rural area of Central California. I love riding around our property on my ATV and was doing so one day when I saw this.” I opened a large envelope and slid a photograph across the table to Joyce.

I continued, “As you can see, there is a large elliptically shaped translucent object sitting right in front of a fenced-in storage area. Since you can see right through it, notice the fence poles behind the form. They are ten feet apart and five feet high. Using them as a gauge, the object appears to be about fifty-five feet wide and fifteen feet high.

“I shut off my ATV and just sat there for several minutes trying to remember every little detail I possibly could. I had no idea what this thing was. I thought perhaps it was a methane gas bubble that came out of the ground, but it didn’t move or change shape. Then I thought it might be something experimental from a nearby military base. I had seen on TV where the military was experimenting with invisibility, and perhaps this was some type of flying craft, or even a UFO,” I concluded.

“Were you scared?” Joyce asked.

“No, just curious. I decided to go back to the house and get my camera. I had seen enough UFO documentaries to know you need to have evidence. Nothing is more frustrating than hearing someone say, ‘My son Billy and I watched this huge thing over our house for an hour and a half, then it just took off at a tremendous speed.’ ‘Damn!’ I would say to myself, ‘Didn’t either of you think to go in the house and get a camera?’ I was not going to be that person,” I said.

“I started up my ATV, turned around slowly, and headed toward the house, almost as if I thought I might scare it away with the engine noise. I returned, camera in hand and took a few pictures.” Then I paused, adding, “Well, perhaps this will explain it better.”

I put my index finger up to the side of my neck, pressed down, and removed a small round disk that was a brilliant greenish color and roughly the size of a dime.

“My God!” Joyce exclaimed. “Did you just pull that out of your neck? What is that?”

“It’s a recording device,” I replied.

“May I see it?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not,” I said. “I was warned by the people who gave this to me that this device was tuned to me and me alone. No one else can operate or even touch it without becoming violently ill. Let me show you how it works and everything will become clear.”

I set it on the table and touched the top of it with my index finger. A thin beam of white light shot up about three feet, stopped, and slowly came down while expanding outwardly into several colored concentric rings. Each was about two inches wide and spaced about an inch apart; there were ten rings in all. The outer ring was about three feet in diameter with the rest getting progressively smaller toward the center.

“That is absolutely beautiful!” Joyce said.

I glanced over at her face, and she had one of those looks of amazement that Carol had hoped to capture on tape. “It’s not just a lovely centerpiece,” I said jokingly. “It contains recordings of everything that happened to me from the time I took that picture until they brought me back.”

“You lost me,” Joyce said.

“I’m going to play the first recording and you will see what I am talking about,” I explained. “I have to warn you, though. This is like nothing you have ever experienced before. You will think you are actually there. You won’t be able to see anything you see now; we won’t even see each other. You will, however, be able to look all around, including up and down as if you are actually there.

“The recording will fill this entire studio, so I want to caution everyone not to try to walk around, as you might fall over something. If anyone feels uncomfortable or overwhelmed for any reason and wants me to stop the recording, just say so.”

As I reached forward with my index finger, the outer ring stretched out to meet me. With that touch the first recording began to play, and everyone in the studio gasped.

“Everything inside the craft looks dimly lit because of a power problem. Off in the distance you can see me taking pictures. I’m sure by now you have noticed the five beings standing inside the craft looking out at me. The recording is being made by something inside the craft ― I have no idea what ― but it is so far beyond anything we have. You can see me getting off my bike and walking toward the craft,” I continued. “I’m now about ten feet from the edge of the object, and I am reaching down to retrieve a small rock to lob at it, as I still don’t know if anything solid is actually there.”

I went on, “As the pebble contacted the top of the craft, it made a strange low-frequency humming noise, something like I had never heard before. Now I know there is definitely something there. As you can see, I’m turning my head and covering my eyes with my arm while reaching out with the other arm to try and make physical contact with it. I have no idea if it has an electrical charge or something else that may cause me harm, so I am being very careful.

“After several cautious swipes, I made contact. Thrilled I was still vertical, I put both hands on the surface. I am searching for telltale signs such as rivets, welded seams, or screw heads that would tell me that this was a terrestrial object. I found nothing; it was perfectly smooth. It felt like my hands were on a large pane of glass.”

“Cut!” Peter said in a loud voice. There was a collective “Oh, no” from everyone else in the studio.

“Take thirty people,” and looking at Carol, he said, ”We need to have a pow wow.”

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

“Not at all,” he said. “You’re doing a great job. The problem is that there are six camera persons and only one of me. I can handle two or three, but there is so much to see here, and I don’t want to miss anything. Usually, I know exactly what is going to happen next and can plan accordingly. With this, I have no idea what’s coming. We need two more people to help direct the other cameras. In my opinion this will have to be shown in a split-screen format at least some of the time. It’s your call, Carol.”

“I agree with you one hundred percent, Peter. Let me see what I can do.” Carol got up from her chair and walked out of the studio.

As everyone left, I said, “Peter, can I see you for a minute?”

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Let me show you something that might help.” I reached down and turned the disk on again. After the rings had all formed, I pointed toward a small white dot on the outer ring. “See that?” I said. I placed my finger on the dot and moved my hand backward. This created a viewing area about six inches in diameter. “If I move my finger to the right, you will see the recording begin to play within the viewing area. The further I move to the right the faster the recording. Conversely, moving to the left goes in reverse. If you would like, you can preview what’s coming up so you know where everyone needs to be.“

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “That’s fantastic! When we snag two more bodies, you can show that to the three of us, and we can plan the shots accordingly. Thanks. Come with me, I want to show you the break room.”

We left the studio and walked down the hall to a glass-enclosed room that was actually a restaurant; it was beautiful. I was expecting a typical lunchroom atmosphere with a refrigerator, sink, and vending machines, but this place was incredible. I was kind of hungry and ordered a sandwich and iced tea; Peter ordered a salad.

“This is on me,” I said.

Peter responded, “Everything here is free.”

“Still on me,” I said. He smiled. The food was amazing ― with giant proportions and large drinks.

“You guys are so fortunate to have such a nice place right here on the same floor.”

“Yes we are,” he said, “but it isn’t just a wonderful gesture on the part of management. Most of the stuff we do here is ‘hush hush,’ and they prefer we don’t mingle with others in the building for security reasons.” Makes sense, I thought. He continued, “Besides, under ‘Platinum Security’ we are not allowed to leave except for emergencies.”

“Where is everyone?” I asked. “I thought the rest of the gang would be in here.”

“They are all trying to find the two extra people I asked for,” he said.

“Wow, now that’s teamwork,” I replied.

“Everyone here was hand picked by Marty Talbert when he started Hard Facts; they are all the best of the best. If there is any sort of problem, regardless of whose area of responsibility it falls under, we all pitch in to find the solution. . . . It’s very effective.”

The gang all came into the lounge together about ten minutes later, with two additional people ― problem solved. Only fifteen minutes had passed and everyone was anxious to get started again. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be the only problem that day. No one had ever tried to tape this kind of recording before and being coupled with an interview, a number of technical problems had to be solved. For instance, studio cameras are meant to record on a fairly level field. They will tilt up and down but not much. There were things directly overhead and straight down that needed to be captured as well. Peter asked for yet another two people from the news department with hand-held cameras. Now there were a total of eight cameras trying to capture all the action. . . . This was unheard of. After all those problems were solved, we had a power outage due to an overload from all the additional equipment that had to be brought in.

I was extremely impressed by the professionalism displayed by everyone. There was no cursing, dirty looks, or someone blaming someone else for a particular problem. In fact they repeatedly apologized to me for the delays. With what they were paying me, I didn’t care if it took five years to finish. The day was more than half over, and we had accomplished very little. Peter got everyone’s attention and told them to stand by. He and the other two directors asked me to show them a preview of what was coming up. They decided collectively it would be best to preview a section, tape it, and move on to the next preview, tape it, and so on. After the entire recording was taped, Joyce and I would do a one-on-one interview, and she would have a better idea of what questions to ask. I resumed playback just where we left off.

I continued to feel my way along the object, and when I was about one-quarter the distance around, I suddenly found myself inside. There was one alien being in front of me, and four more about ten feet behind him. ”You boys aren’t from Spruce Valley Lake, are you?“ I jokingly asked.

They all looked nearly identical, about four and a half feet tall, average in stature with very long arms, having three long fingers and a thumb. Their heads were the same size as mine, which was large for their bodies, with faces that were very childlike . . . actually cute.

They looked to me to be about twelve years old; their noses, ears, and mouths were smaller than mine, with much larger eyes, which was their only distinguishing feature. The pupil was black like mine, but outside of that, the color(s) completely filled the eye socket . . . no white at all, and the eye colors were amazing. Some had a solid color, while others had many patches of color; they reminded me of those paintings that were so popular in the seventies of children with very large eyes. Their skin was kind of pinkish-gray, completely smooth and blemish-free, and they had no visible body hair whatsoever. They were all wearing identical light, yellow-green, one-piece suits with no sleeves, and metallic-looking shoes. Underneath the suit was a transparent garment that covered everything but their heads.

The one closest to me said, ”Please do not be afraid; we mean you no harm. In fact we desperately need your help. I am Zo-L. We are travelers from another planet and have come here simply to observe your civilization. We have lost all main power, and our auxiliary power is nearly depleted as well. We have been stranded here for six of your Earth days. Will you please help us?“

”Yes, of course.“ I said, ”What can I do?”

“We are in need of sodium chloride and oxygen,” came the response.

“By sodium chloride do you mean salt?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

I then asked, “How much do you need?”

“100 kilograms.”

That’s about 220 pounds, I thought. “I have that; now as for the oxygen, I have a small tank that is part of my welding outfit. Will that work?”

“Where are these items located?” he asked.

I turned around, pointed, and said, “Over there in my house.”

I said to Joyce, “I’ll have to pause at this point and explain a few things.”

Everything was frozen for the time being, and everyone got a chance to look around and see all there was to see without being distracted by doing his or her job.

“First of all, Zo-L can read my mind so he knows what I am going to say before I say it. Also, everything you are about to see occurs in real time. Nothing has been cut out; what you see is as it happened. Finally, the recording you see inside my home is taken by something on or in his uniform. You will see everything around him but will only see his arms or legs come into the frame occasionally.”

I continued the playback.

“May I see these items?” Zo-L asked. As the word “Yes” came out of my mouth. We were both standing in my living room.

“Wow! You’ll have to tell me later how you did that,” I said. I knew he was in a hurry, and probably scared to death, so I quickly said. “The salt is in the laundry room. Follow me.” I lifted the top off my water softener to reveal the salt tank, and I reached in and grabbed a pellet and handed it to him. “The tank holds 350 pounds of salt; there’s about 300 pounds in there now. Will that work?”

He raised the pellet to his mouth and tasted it. “This will do nicely,” he said.

“The oxygen is in the garage,” I said. Then I opened the door. There are two steps down entering the garage and as I pointed to them I said, “Be careful.” He didn’t respond, and I thought to myself, hmm ― no sense of humor.

My welding outfit was behind some other stuff, as I rarely use it. I pointed to it and said, “Let me get it out and by the gauges we can tell how much oxygen there is left.”

“No need,” he said. “I can see how much is in there.” I was amazed. It’s a steel tank and the valve was closed so the gauges were at zero. “May I have these items,” he asked.

“Before you do anything, please wait,” I said. “Of course the answer is yes, but I would like to ask a favor of you. Will you please allow me to take a few pictures of you and I together, and then take me back into the ship with you so I can take a few there as well?”

“Yes,” he said. I quickly raised my camera and took two pictures. Moving beside him, I stretched out my arm and took a couple more of the both of us.

“I’ll get some buckets and a scoop and start loading up the salt.”

“No need,” he said, and with that, we were back in the ship, which had become even darker than before as the power continued to wane. If power is completely lost, the ship will loose its invisibility cloaking and will become a solid object to be seen by all. The salt and oxygen were on the floor next to the wall between the four chairs the Travelers use. Zo-L has a separate chair a few feet in back of them. I wasted no time and began taking pictures using my flash hoping my battery would hold out.

The salt was just standing there in a perfect column as if it were still in the tank. It should be on the floor in a pile, as they are individual pellets. Both the salt and the oxygen tank moved slowly forward and went right through the wall, as if it weren’t there. The room was completely silent; I don’t believe they were even breathing. Everyone’s eyes were transfixed on the large section of wall just in front of the four chairs. The wall went all the way around the inside of the ship but there was a narrow shelf protruding underneath this particular section. I figured this must be the ship’s bridge or control center.

I said a silent prayer for the Travelers as we all waited for something to happen. After what seemed like forever, the wall section and shelf lit up brightly with all sorts of colored symbols on them. The room also became brightly illuminated, although there was no visible light source. The ship was now totally transparent except for the control area. The boys went crazy! They were hopping from side to side on one foot, then the other. They had their arms extended in the air and were making a whooping noise repeatedly. I dubbed this “The Happy Dance.” They then all began hugging each other while continuing to jump around ─ it was fantastic!

Zo-L suddenly turned in my direction and flew at me so fast I didn’t have a chance to react. He threw his arms and legs around me and hugged me tightly. The other travelers suddenly stopped moving and became quiet, as if frozen in place. Zo-L then released me and quickly retreated back to where he was. They all acted as if he had done something terribly wrong. I smiled at him, extended my arms, and said, “Come here, you.”

He immediately resumed hugging me as everyone smiled. I again extended my arms and beckoned the others to join us . . . they did. I was now holding five alien beings in my arms, and it was great. They can levitate themselves, so I felt no extra weight at all. When they hug you, there is a physical feeling attached. For want of better words, I would call it love, and it increased as each one joined in. I had never experienced anything like that before; it was truly beautiful.

The four travelers soon returned to their chairs and seemed to be checking the status of everything, as I continued to take more pictures. The inside of the ship was perfectly smooth; there were no switches, knobs, screwheads, or fasteners of any kind, nothing I was expecting to see in a spacecraft. Everything flowed together; the chairs seemed to just rise out of the floor with no seams between the two. It was as though the entire inside was one continuous piece.

Zo-L looked at me and said, “You must come with us to our planet, Ar-Z, so we can tell Overseer and our people what you have done for us. I know they will want to meet you.” I immediately began thinking of Einstein’s theory of general relativity, which states, “Nothing can exceed the speed of light.” The nearest star, Alpha Centauri, is nearly four and a half light years away, which means I would not be back on Earth for nine years. Not good.

Zo-L, reading my mind, responded, “Your science is very young. What does the time piece on your arm say?”

I lifted my arm up, looked at my watch and said, “It’s 10:30 a.m., Saturday, July 15, 2023.”

“I promise you, Ralph Diamond, I will return you here before four Earth hours have passed. It will still be Saturday, July 15, 2023.”

“Well, you’ve never lied to me before,” I joked. “So yes, thank you. I‘d love to come with you.”

He laughed and said, “Good one. That was even better than the stair joke. See . . . we do have a sense of humor.”

Abruptly Peter yelled, “Cut! That’s enough for today, people. Good job, everyone. Back here tomorrow ― 9:00 a.m. sharp.”

I turned off the recorder, and everyone in the room came over to see me. They expressed how blown away they were with what they had just seen, and how proud and happy they felt to be included in such a history-making story.

“What was the stair joke?” someone asked.

I said, “As Zo-L and I were walking into the garage, I pointed down at the two stairs and said, ’Be careful.’ I was referring to how ridiculous it would be for a person that had just transported himself and me from inside a spacecraft to inside my house to fall down two stairs and end up lying face down on the floor.”

“Oh,” came the response. “I completely missed that one.” Everyone laughed as they exited the room.

As Carol and I waited for Meg and Tina to return, she said, “Let’s go to my office.” We sat down and she leaned over and opened her desk drawer and removed a bottle of 20-year-old single-malt scotch. She said, “This is just for special occasions, and they don’t come any more special than this.” She poured us both a glass, and we toasted our first day of taping. “Here’s to changing the world,” she said.

“I guess we’re quite a bit behind, huh?” I asked.

“Not at all,” she answered. “This is an open-ended taping; we have the studio for as long as it takes. You can’t rush something this big.”

By the time we were notified that the girls had arrived, we were both in full party mode. Carol summoned the limo to take Tina and me back to the hotel. As she walked me down to the lobby and out to the limo, she said, “Good night, you guys. Have a great evening, and I’ll see you same time tomorrow.”

On the ride to the hotel, Tina told me what a great time she and Meg had.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“Shopping, of course,” came the answer. She showed me a couple outfits she had purchased and said, “I’m sure I’ll be able to wear these, as Meg said they are going to take us to some nice places.” She mentioned that Meg had thanked her several times for affording her this “mini vacation,” as she put it. “After a while I got the feeling that maybe she was not completely happy with her job,” Tina continued. “I asked her what it was like being a PA.”

“She answered, ‘Well . . . Carol is the third boss I have worked for. Generally speaking, you really don’t have much of a personal life; you’re on call twenty-four-seven and if anything goes wrong, you generally get the blame.’”

“’Is Carol like that?“ I asked.

”No,“ came the answer. ”She is a sweetheart. She even took the blame in a meeting once for something I did. I didn’t find out about it till two weeks later.”

“Everyone here is so nice,” Tina said to me.

“I know,” I responded. “It’s wonderful.”

We entered our room and both went to lie down and rest for a while. We got up about an hour later and showered, then Tina said, “I have got to take you to this Italian restaurant Meg and I went to today. You are especially going to love it.” (I’m full-blooded Italian, but my grandfather Americanized our last name when he came to America in the 1930s.)

After dinner, we walked around awhile. The sights and sounds of New York were a far cry from the quiet rural life we’re used to. We took a cab back to the hotel. We were still a bit jet-lagged and exhausted from the day, so we retired early. The next morning we tried a new little place down the block for breakfast. The cleaning lady had highly recommended it, and she was sure right. . . . It was great! We waited in front of the hotel again for Carol and Meg to arrive, which they did a few minutes later. We entered the limo and after the usual “good mornings,” Carol leaned toward Tina and me and said, “I have to tell you; I am a bit disappointed with you two.”

“What’s wrong?” my wife asked. “I checked with the front desk this morning, and it seems you two haven’t so much as charged a phone call to the room.” Carol continued, “I thought I told you guys to have a good time! Money is not a problem.”

“We’re not the kind of people to take advantage of a situation,” I said.

“I know you’re not; that’s why I brought this.” Reaching into her purse, Carol then handed Tina an envelope and said, “Here’s a little WAM. . . . Please use it.”

Carol then immediately turned to Meg to ask her something, and my wife leaned over toward me and whispered, “What’s WAM?”

“Walking around money,” I answered.

Tina smiled at me and said, “Well, you heard the lady; if I have to, I have to. Thank you very much Carol. You’re very kind.”

Traffic was lighter that morning, and Carol and I arrived in studio about 8:15 a.m. Much to our surprise, everyone was already there. “You guys are sure early,” Carol said.

“Everyone can’t wait to see what happens next,” said Peter. “I don’t think any of us has talked about anything else since yesterday.”

“I hope you mean with each other. . . . Remember, you have all signed ‘non-disclosure’ forms,” Carol reminded them.

“Yes, of course,” came the reply from several people in the room.

“Well, we’re all here. Shall we get started?” Peter asked. Everyone responded with an enthusiastic “Yes.”

“Okay, places everyone,” Peter directed.

“Oh damn!” I said. “I don’t have the disk.” The entire room fell completely silent as I patted my pockets looking for it. After a brief pause I said, “Oh, that’s right.” I pushed my finger into my neck and retrieved the disk. “Here it is. . . . Damn, you guys are easy!”

“Good one,” came a remark from the back of the room. Everyone burst into laughter except Peter. I think the poor guy was about to have a heart attack. He looked at me with sort of a half smile on his face, pointed at me and was shaking his head from side to side.

“What?” I said. “I was told you ‘show biz’ people always like to start with a joke.”

Someone else said, “Good one,” and the place erupted in laughter again.

“All right, you clowns. I expect this from you all, but not the new guy,” Peter said, referring to me. It felt great to be fitting in with the group.

Peter continued, “Okay, everyone, today will be the beginning of the second hour of the first special. We have gone over the preview, and we are good to go. Joyce will welcome everyone, bring the audience up to date with a brief recap, re-introduce Mr. Diamond, and then we will resume the playback. Any questions?”