PPD Base #2

As was usually the case, my clearances had taken longer than myself to arrive at my next base. With the line of work I was in, if proof of your clearances weren’t available you were essentially out of work until they were. This was the case during my first few weeks at PPD Base #2.

I took advantage of this unexpected down time and visited some friends a short drive away.

My unofficial vacation didn’t last long. My clearances eventually arrived and I found myself being briefed on what I would be doing at my new duty location and how it related to the big picture.

The contrast between my first PPD base and this one was enormous. At my first one, we had under 50 people all working to support a little site seemingly in the middle of nowhere. This one was an enormous place with thousands of people working under one roof. The overall differences were like night and day. But with respect to the PPD mission, things were identical... at first.
 

I had been there for almost three months before I finally received a third party introduction to my next PPD commander.
It was late at night, during a 12 hour shift, and I was working at my station. I had just finished one of my routine tasks when I noticed two men approaching my workstation out of the corner of my eye. I immediately recognized one of the men as Captain Stanley, my PPD commander from PPD Base #1. I was quite surprised. I had never seen my first PPD commander, Captain White, again so I never expected to see Captain Stanley again either.

I got up and met their approach with a smile and a handshake.

“Sergeant Sherman, great to see you again. How have you been doing here at your new base? Have you settled in nicely?” he asked. I couldn’t help but wonder if the person he had with him was my new PPD commander.
“Yes, Sir, it’s a great place. There’s a lot more to do here than our last base,” I joked. “How have you been?”
“Can’t complain. Actually, I’m here for a little business and decided to come say hi. I also have someone I’d like you to meet. His name is Captain Gregory and he’ll be your new program commander.”
Just like that! I looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. The closest person was almost 20 feet away and deeply involved in whatever they were doing. The ambient noise where we were standing was quite high. My quick assessment was that no one could hear what we were saying but it didn’t appear to be a concern for either of the two captains standing in front of me.
“I see,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I stood there dumbfounded, not knowing where to go with the conversation.

Luckily Captain Stanley kept the conversation going by asking me to explain what my job was and to give him a tour of my workstation. This made me feel more comfortable since it gave me something else to talk about while I assessed what to do or say next concerning PPD and my new commander.

I finished showing both of my visitors around my workstation when Captain Stanley announced he needed to leave. He said his good-byes and wished me luck in the future.

Captain Gregory stayed behind.

“So how long have you been involved with the program, Sergeant Sherman?’ he asked as soon as Captain Stanley started walking away.
“I went to school in the early part of 1992 and became mission ready around the beginning of November that same year. How long have you been involved, Sir?” I asked back. I was trying to get as much information as possible before he defined the terms of our relationship like all my other PPD commanders had.
“Not very long,” he answered, sounding as if he just started. “You’ll be receiving comms soon. Let me show you how to access your reporting window.”
He went over to my computer monitor and sat in front of it. I could tell he didn’t know anything about my regular job because he asked how to remove the screen that was currently taking up the entire monitor. I got rid of the screen for him.
“You simply place the pointer on the background and press the right mouse button and F10 at the same time,” he instructed.

What he didn’t know was that I had already checked the background to see if the window I would be using was there. It was there, but I didn’t know my new password. I listened patiently for him to tell me my password. He told me my new password and then asked if I was all set. I told him that unless he had something else to tell me, I was ready.

It was at this time that he gave me my “medicine” as I came to call it. The pills came in the same shiny gray bottle they had come in at my previous base.

He began to tell me what dosage I needed to take and I interrupted him, “I know, take two every day I come to work.”
“Actually,” he said “you only take one every day of work.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a bit embarrassed about my know-it-all attitude. “It’s changed since my last base.”
“I guess so,” he said. “I assume you know where to keep them?”
We didn’t have the personal secure space here that we had access to at PPD Base #1. “I guess I’ll have to keep it in my filing cabinet drawer.”
“That’s fine,” he said, probably knowing I had no other choice. Of course, there was no way I would be allowed to take them home.
“If you ever have to reach me, send a message by e-mail. I’ll get back with you as soon as possible.”
He gave me his e-mail address. It sounded like his office was located elsewhere. I was curious, so I asked “Is your office here on site or somewhere else?”
“You will see me around the building from time to time but if you have any questions, confine them to e-mail and I’ll be sure to respond quickly. This position is such that you will not need much interaction with anyone. Just report your comms when they come in and go about your normal duties otherwise,” the captain said, completely ignoring my question.

This guy was slicker than I had thought. I was initially under the impression I could get out of him more information than I could my other PPD commanders. Evidently I was wrong.
 

My life at PPD Base #2 was perhaps the loneliest I had experienced up to that point in my Air Force career. At PPD Base #1, I had managed to find a few friends that I could pass time with during my off-duty hours and I had been involved with the base theater club putting on plays for the base populace.

But I was increasingly withdrawing into a cocoon that was harder and harder to escape from. During the first few months, after I found out about PPD and my role in it, I went through feelings of superiority. I felt so much pride that I was one of the people given this interesting and, apparently, important ability. As time went by, though, all that seemed meaningless if I couldn’t share it with someone. It’s like being rich beyond your wildest imagination and being stuck on a deserted island without anyone to share it with or anywhere to spend it. I was becoming emotionally isolated and started to hate what I was doing.

I compensated for the increasing loneliness I was feeling by spending money. I started to take solace in material things. I didn’t feel like I had to hide what was going on in my life from things, so buying them comforted me. My first comm at PPD Base #2 came about three days after my impromptu meeting with Captains Stanley and Gregory.

I showed up to work for a normal 12 hour midnight shift when I started to receive a pre-emptive message to prepare me for an incoming comm. I hadn’t received one for more than three months by this time and it took me by surprise just as it had the very first time. Only this time I knew I had time to prepare myself and my computer to receive it.

At this new base, it was much easier to report comms because workstations were farther apart, located within a huge open room. Most of the time I could work totally uninterrupted. But when interruptions did occur they were more unpredictable. At Base #1, I would know if I was to have a visitor so I could prepare. At Base #2, anyone could walk up at any time and completely take me by surprise. I became very good at sensing if anyone was approaching my workstation while I was reporting a comm. It was quite easy to suspend a comm if need be, so I often would do it to head off any nosy questions.

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Enter Bones

The first comm I received at PPD Base #2 was of the same structure as all the others I had received up to that time. More numbers and seemingly codified strings of numbers and letters. But I realized that I was not comm’ing with the same grey contact as I was before. It seemed Spock had been replaced. I could sense the change from the texture of the message.

Communicating intuitively is like touching and feeling an exquisite tapestry when compared to our normal means of communication. It was so much more vibrant than any of the senses we humans typically use in touching, hearing, seeing, tasting and smelling. All these are sensed in a one dimensional world compared to the richness of communicating intuitively.

During the first comm at my new base, I noticed the texture of the “tapestry” had changed. Before, when comm’ing with Spock, I had nothing to compare his tapestry with because it was my first and only grey contact. I had come to expect every comm to be the same. This one was quite different.

As soon as I had logged into my reporting window, I gave the go-ahead for the first of many comms I would receive from the grey contact I called “Bones.” (The irony of the nickname I had given to my first PPD contact did not so readily apply to this one. So with no descriptive name coming to mind, I continued with the Star Trek theme.)

I immediately sensed that this was a different grey. As Bones was about to sign off I sent a comm, on the other plane, asking why my contact had changed. I wasn’t sure if he just didn’t receive my comm before completely signing off or he totally ignored it. But he was gone.

After he signed off I tried to assess the differences between his comm and Spock’s. It was like he had a different shape and texture to his tapestry. Spock was definitely more rigid, with his comms being more punctuated and tighter around the edges. Bones appeared to be more “human” than Spock, in that his emotions were more readily apparent. I couldn’t help but wonder what emotions their race was capable of. I was very intrigued and couldn’t wait for my next comm. I was also looking forward to trying the higher plane, again, to see what his reaction would be; or if he even would react.

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Bones’ Revelations

After that first comm with Bones, and realizing it was a different grey I would be communicating with, I was anxious to attempt going to the higher plane. Based on my experiences with Spock, I assumed he would also be curious at my ability to go to this other level.

I was not mistaken. The very next comm came a few days after the first. I went to the other plane as soon as he was finished with the preamble. He asked the identical question Spock asked, if I had intentionally switched planes. I answered to the affirmative; I had indeed done it on purpose. Bones immediately continued with the normal comm on the normal plane as if nothing had happened. I was so pre-occupied with his reaction that I don’t think my comm reporting was very accurate. How could he completely ignore it and go on? I received the comm like normal, not knowing what else to do.

As the comm came to a close, instead of signing off like normal, Bones began to communicate with me on the other plane once again. This took me by surprise, as I fully expected him to sign off after the comm.

“What are your intentions by communicating on this plane?” Bones asked, being quite forward in his question.
“I was able to find this plane while comm’ing with my previous PPD contact, quite by accident. It was interesting to find there was another level of communication, but I was unable to fully explore communicating on this plane with the previous PPD contact because I moved shortly thereafter. There was so much I wanted to ask him. I thought I could ask you, now that you are my contact. Would that be okay?” I asked.
“We have no preferences regarding communicating on this level,” he replied.
“Is that a yes or a no? I’m not clear on your answer,” I answered back, wondering what he meant by his last statement.
“You are not clear on the answer because you expect a different one,” he said enigmatically.
I wasn’t sure what he meant but I didn’t care, I was going to move forward. “How come I can comm with you so informally on this plane but not on the other?” I was intentionally asking the same question I had asked Spock in order to compare answers.
“There are no specifications on the formality of your communication with us. It is true the lower plane is a plane used solely for the purposes of pre-existing communication subjects, but I have never pursued non-pre-existing comms with you because there has never been a reason to do so.”
That was a great answer, because it was how Spock answered the same question. Continuing with the comparison, I asked, “Is communicating on this plane authorized?”
“There is no harm in this communication,” he said responding the same way Spock had months earlier.
Not wanting to cover too much of the same ground as I did with Spock, I tried to think of other things to ask. Because of my own personal needs at the time, the most profound thing I could think of was, “Do you eliminate waste like we do?”
I could swear that if they were capable of laughter, I could “hear” it in the background. I could sense a bubble in our communication like I had never experienced before. Was it laughter? I don’t know, but it might have been.
“Yes, 118, we have that need as well, but not in the same manner,” he answered back without any embarrassment or any other emotions that we as humans would feel if asked the same question.

With that, he signed off.

Our first higher plane comm went smoothly I thought. Bones was just as abrupt as Spock - when he wanted to end communication, he ended it. There were no formalities like we have...i.e., “Well, gotta run, you take care...etc.” I would receive “end of comm” and communications would cease.

Over the course of 10 months at PPD Base #2, I received over 75 comms from Bones. During that time we communicated on the higher plane on numerous occasions. What I learned from Bones during that time frame doesn’t come back to me in a neatly packaged chronological order. I remember the things I learned from Bones more as a gradual progression of knowledge that built upon itself over time.

I must also say that I don’t profess to have learned a great deal of earth shattering revelations from my comms with these “people.” I was able to glean some information over the time period I comm’ed with them but I didn’t learn as much as I would have liked. When you’re making up a story, like so many people out there who claim to have “channeled” or spoken to aliens, you have creative license to come up with as much stuff as you need to fill your book. (To clarify; I am not a channeler. The way I understand it, channeling is when a person takes on the identity of the person, or entity, they are trying to contact.) Unfortunately, I didn’t receive an encyclopedia of information like so many others.

I’ve taken the liberty of consolidating some of the things I remember discussing with Bones, in no particular order:

• Time -
I learned that time, as we know it, does not have the same meaning for them. They still age as we do, but they are not as bound by the physics of time as we currently are. Of course, this would be an obvious assumption for anyone who follows any amount of science fiction. I have always been fascinated with time, therefore it was one question I asked on multiple occasions. Their means of travel across vast distances is heavily dependent on the manipulation of time but not as we perceive it. I asked if they can travel through time: for example - can they go backward or forward in time? He told me that it was not possible to witness a reality that occurred in some other time but the present. In order to go back in time, one must assume that there exists a reference point from which to measure backward or forward. This is an impossibility. Essentially, they weren’t able to travel through time but around time and from time. I never really understood what Bones meant by this.

• Religion -
Being brought up in the Christian faith, I naturally had questions about the meaning of faith and the institution of religion in general. One question I remember quite clearly was when I asked if they had a soul. As was usually the case, his answer was quite curious. Perhaps someone reading this will be able to understand it better than I. He said that any entity that realizes its own existence has intellect and therefore must have a soul. We have been created from the same oneness (my interpretation), and out of that creation came intellect and non-intellect. These are the only forms of life in the universe. We were both (them and us), along with many others, a part of the intellectual aspect creation.

When I asked if there was a God, he answered that it was not his place to answer that question. But he said something like “the question you ask answers itself.” It was all kind of obscure to place any concrete meaning to. Based on what he was saying at the time though, I do remember coming to the conclusion that there must be a “God” that we all shared.

• How long they’ve been visiting -
He said they have been visiting us (again, he used the term water-vessels or some such equivalent) for a very long time. I really didn’t understand the terms he was using for time when describing to me how long they’ve been here, but I remember thinking it must have been a long time. He said they had visited cultures from time to time throughout our history. None of the direct contacts they’ve initiated turned out well. This is one of the reasons they are not “common” (my interpretation of another unfamiliar term) visitors today. However, he said that it was much easier to visit our people in the past than it is today. They revealed themselves on many occasions in the past and even contributed to certain societies and their technologies. They learned much from the engaging of other people. But since our technology has leap-frogged, the risk of revealing themselves on a worldwide scale, at this time, is not a worthwhile endeavor.

My own readings have led me to believe they most likely impacted the Incan, Mayan and Egyptian societies. I think these would be obvious assumptions, if you knew aliens exist and visited past cultures. It is also very possible that the lost continent of Atlantis is a remnant civilization that was effected by aliens. I never asked this question, although now I wish I had.

• Interbreeding -
I stumbled upon a piece of information during one comm but I can’t quite remember what the line of conversation was about. I do remember thinking that they had interbred with humans at one time. Maybe it was another species of aliens... I can’t remember. But I feel it is quite possible there are people living today that are descendants of “inter-terrestrial” parings. My suspicions are, if this is true, that the Basque people of the mountains between Spain and France are the most likely candidates in the search for their progeny. I have read that the Basque language has no identifiable roots and that they are also genetically different than all other humans on the planet. As far as I can tell, from the scientific community, they are a human anomaly. This could explain why.

• Other intelligent life -
According to Bones, there is a vast number of other “intelligences” in the Universe. I got the feeling when I asked this that he felt it was a dumb question.

• Sexes -
I had asked at one time if they had two sexes like we do. The answer was yes. It seems they procreate as well, but not in the same manner. I didn’t go any further in my questioning, and he didn’t volunteer any more information.

• Mode of travel -
When he answered this question, I didn’t understand half of what he was telling me and couldn’t translate it if I did. What little I got from the conversation was that they somehow use time and electromagnetic energy as a source of propulsion. (There were times when I regretted not listening more closely in Physics 101.)

• Life span -
Their life span is similar to ours but I was not able to understand the time measurements he was using. I always had a hard time understanding any aspect of time when it was discussed in reference to a timetable. Bones made me understand that their life spans are similar to ours, perhaps even shorter.

• Energy -
When asked about energy and what form of it they use, he didn’t mention their energy source but did speak about our energy sources. He told me that our sun was very unique and that someday we would understand how it really worked and how we could utilize the same methods they use but on a smaller scale. He said our scientists have just begun to understand how the sun can be used as a source of energy for our future needs.

• Project Preserve Destiny -
When queried on this subject, Bones would almost always sign off. There were two occasions he didn’t though. Once he answered the question of how many countries were involved with it. His answer was less than exact but it was an answer. He said, “more than one.”

The other question was concerning the future event that I had been told this whole project was about. He said only that “the Earth is in its geological infancy and that we should expect much change.” With that he signed off. What did he mean by this? Was it just a ruse, and the project was for something else? I’ll probably never know.

• Noise cancellation technology -
So what did my run in with the white van have to do with anything? I asked Bones about noise cancellation and the significance of same. This was one of the topics I never received an answer for. I thought it quite odd that he would either not answer or sign off every time I asked about this topic. Of course, by reacting this way, I became even more intrigued than if he would have given me a simple answer and moved on.

To this day I still wonder what noise cancellation has to do with PPD. I have done much reading on the subject over the past few years (since the white van incident) and have come up with some interesting information, but nothing necessarily linking it to PPD.

If taken to its extreme, noise cancellation has numerous military applications. Some forward thinking physicist may even be able to correlate it with propulsion somehow. Noise cancellation works on the principle of negative phase theory. If you analyze the frequency of the noise you want to eliminate, determine its discreet phase angles at a very high data rate, you can generate an identical frequency calculated to be 180 degrees out of phase with the original frequency. If you mix the two frequencies together in a process called “heterodyning” you get 180 - 180 = 0. Of course, I’ve summarized this explanation for the sake of simplicity. It is my theory that the government is working on this type of technology and is eons ahead of the civilian noise cancellation world in terms of advances. Again, if taken to the extreme, this technology can go beyond the original uses of simply canceling an unwanted noise. Light is also made up of electromagnetic energy and has a frequency. What if a person could control the cancellation of light at will? Think of the implications if a country had full use of this ability. I’m not a physicist, but I can tell you that the uses of this technology are innumerable.

My final conclusion on the white van, after much thought, is this; as you have learned in this book, grey projects are always hidden behind black projects. While I was attending PPD school, Captain White told me that I wouldn’t be briefed on the black project that cloaked PPD there at the school, because I wouldn’t be working on its mission and therefore had no need-to-know. So it is my contention that the black project located there had something to do with noise cancellation and perhaps had no tangible connection to PPD at all. Or, maybe it did have something to do with it.

Regardless, I’m anxious to know more about this technology - hopefully any advanced applications relating to this technology will filter its way down to the consumer market someday. Fascinating stuff! Meanwhile, I’m buying stock in that company!

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Abduction Data

My comms started to change over the period of time I was at PPD Base #2. It was almost as if it was another step I was taking in my progression as an IC. The data started to become more pictorial in nature. I reported an abundance of launch data immediately after launches of the Arianne, Shuttle and other nation’s rocket programs. I remember one launch in particular. There had been a malfunction during the launch which ended up destroying the vehicle. During the comm I received following that launch, I could actually “see” where the malfunction had occurred but I couldn’t report it because I didn’t know how to describe what I was seeing. It was quite odd. I simply reported what I could translate into words. I’m sure if they would have shown me pictures, I could have pointed out where it malfunctioned. I did report at the end of the comm that I had received mental images of the malfunction but was unable to describe it. Evidently it wasn’t important enough to follow up on, because I never heard anything about it later.

But it wasn’t until I was at PPD Base #2 for 8 or 9 months that I started to receive information that was, on the face of it, startling to me.

Within about 5 months of my arrival I had been moved into a management position pertaining to my non-PPD duties and, as such, was working a day schedule. I had access to the same computer network that I had prior to my promotion so I could just as easily, if not more privately, access my PPD reporting window from my new desk. This new work schedule made for a more routine comms reporting schedule as well. Evidently, somebody was aware of this because I began to receive my comms during the day only.

It was 3 or 4 months after my positional promotion that I received what appeared to be my first abduction related comm. These comms would begin like all other comms; the sending of the normal preamble information containing my identifying code of 118 and the five digit “zipcode” number. But the rest of the comm was completely different. There would be other items in the comm including such things as “potentiality for recall”, “residual pain level”, “nerve response”, “body normalization” and other more obscure things I can’t recall because they made no sense. My first abduction comm included a latitude/longitude coordinate that I later looked up to find that it corresponded to the panhandle of Florida.

As I look back on it, I could see a gradual progression of how the comms were being reported to me. At PPD Base #1, almost without exception, the official comms I reported were in some sort of code residing in a long string of numbers. As I moved to my next base, the comms began to be more descriptive in nature, with the reporting of the launching events, along with other image-based data. But now, they had taken one more step in the evolution. I would not describe the newest comms as particularly visual, however. The information translated more from a “spoken” context but were altogether disturbing to report.

The ratings assigned to each category I reported seemed to be on a scale of 1-100. What frustrated me was I had no idea which was the upper end of the scale and which was the lower.

Below is an example of what the report of an abduction comm would look like if the typing on the screen would have been visible;

118/23576/Subject10023202036/940107/0430/
PotentialityforRecall72/ResidualPain21/NerveResponseCurve63/BodyNormalization97/03835N14503E///

After receiving the first few comms containing this information, I could see that the format was standardized. I began to report the categories by using the initials of the terms such as “PFR” for potentiality for recall... etc. The “subject” field would always contain an 11 digit number and the field after that was obviously the date of the abduction. I say that because most times it would not correspond to the actual date I received the comm but a date several days earlier. The date would vary between one to three days prior to the date of the report. The next field, I believe, was the time the abduction took place (according to what time zone, I don’t know) followed by the individual explanation fields. The last field was obviously the latitude and longitude of the abduction.

This time I looked up some of the coordinates because I had access to maps in my workcenter. On three separate occasions I looked the locations up and I discovered one corresponded to the panhandle of Florida, another to upstate New York and the other to Wisconsin. Based on my familiarity with worldwide lat/longs at the time, though, I could tell that every one of the abduction scenarios that I reported took place within the continental US.

I finally came to the conclusion, after reporting over 20 apparent abduction scenarios, that I wanted no part of the program any longer. Although I had no reason to believe anyone was being maliciously harmed, I did get a feeling that the abductions I was reporting were part of some sort of higher calling and the feelings of the people involved took a back seat to that calling. I couldn’t help but think about my mother and what she possibly went through during the genetic management phase of PPD.

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Bitterness Grows

Because of the things I began to report regarding the abduction scenarios, I started to question why this was happening.

The beginning of the end started one day after I had reported a comm with the usual abduction sequences. I sat there at my desk looking at my computer screen, after reporting a comm, wondering what I was doing. I suddenly didn’t have enough information anymore. I wanted to know more and my level of anxiety about it all was beginning to rise dramatically. When I was first indoctrinated into the program, I was so awe struck with everything I was learning I didn’t question anything. But now, two and half years later, I was no longer intimidated by my superiors nor the secretive nature and classification of the project itself.

I began to feel bitter. The bitterness began a few months after I had started to receive comms from Bones. It hit a sharp incline when I began to receive the abduction comms and now it hit a crescendo. I was tired of being supposedly so important because of my abilities, yet treated like an underling with no need-to-know. I think I would not have begun to feel this way if I had somehow been made a part of the whole process - if I would have been made aware of the reasons for everything. Why the abduction data? Why had everything been passed in code, mostly, until now? I had so many questions and I wasn’t getting any answers. I suddenly wanted to tell everything I knew to everyone. I felt like a butterfly trying to break out of the confines of the ugly old cocoon. I had been cooped up in this classified cage for too long and I wanted to come clean. People had a right to know what was going on. And if they shouldn’t know, then tell me why they shouldn’t know. It was very frustrating.

I knew as long as I stayed in the military, my feelings of loneliness would persist and most likely get much worse. It had affected my personal life drastically. I had slowly built a wall around myself over the past two and half years because I feared getting close to anyone. I had even sacrificed my love life all this time because I feared becoming involved with someone and coming to a point in the future of telling them about my experiences and them rejecting me because either they wouldn’t believe me or, worse yet, think I was a freak.

So I put in for an early discharge through my organizational, non-PPD, chain of command. At the time, the Air Force was letting people receive early discharges in select career fields in an attempt to draw down the number of personnel. There had been others who had received an early out in my career field, so I thought I had a slight chance. At the time, we were experiencing a massive draw down of all the armed forces.

A few weeks went by and I was informed that my request was denied. I asked my non-PPD commander why and he told me that I was in a critically manned career field and they weren’t letting anyone out. I knew my next step would be fruitless but I tried it anyway. In a way I’m glad, because it provided the catalyst for my eventual discharge in a ‘round-a-bout way. I sent an e-mail message to my PPD commander. In the message, I asked if there was any way I could receive an early out discharge. Within the hour I had received an e-mail back, summarily denying my request.

So I sent a message back, asking why. He came back with the same answer I had received from my other commander, that my career field was a shortage career field and that it would be impossible to let me out. But this time, within the text of the message, he asked me why I wanted out. I told him I no longer felt that the Air Force was what I wanted in life and that I was anxious to pursue a career as a civilian. I preferred to get out now instead of waiting for my enlistment to be up in November of 1997.

Then came the message that set me off and solidified my resolve to get out at all costs. He sent a message back saying that since I had been officially indoctrinated into PPD, it would be impossible for me to get out, even when my current enlistment came to an end.

This absolutely threw me for a loop. I had never heard of such a thing. I sent back a message asking for clarification because it sounded like he meant I wouldn’t be able to get out until someone else said so, regardless of what I wanted and when my enlistment was over.

“Correct,” came the reply.

I was beside myself with anger. What he was saying, essentially, was that I was stuck indefinitely - even if my enlistment were to end on its own accord. How could they do that? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I felt like an animal that had just been cornered - so I did what anyone would do when cornered - I resolved to come out swinging. I went home that night, plotting my next strategy. I was going to get out of the military now, come hell or high water. They were finished controlling my life. I’m convinced that if he hadn’t made me so angry, I would have perhaps calmed down and at least stayed for the rest of my enlistment. (Even though, according to Captain Gregory, I wouldn’t have been able to get out even then.)

I knew that whatever I did I had to do it through non-PPD channels. I came up with just such a plan.

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Discharge

Towards the end of my involvement with PPD, I noticed Bones was reacting a bit differently. It was at this time that I wondered if he somehow knew of my intentions of getting out of the project. I had always assumed they were not able to read my mind, because I couldn’t read theirs. It’s only after I looked back on this that I question if they had been able to read my mind the whole time. It makes me uneasy to think they could have.

The way I obtained my discharge is not a secret. Anyone can look into my military record and see the reason emblazoned on my discharge papers. But certain self-incrimination legalities prevent me from discussing it here.
Anyone who has a dire need to rid themselves of the military can use this method, but I don’t advise it. It has left an indelible mark on me and I regret being forced to use such drastic measures.

However, I knew this was the only method I could use that would completely shut out the authority of my PPD chain of command. Indeed, upon turning in the paperwork that eventually led to my discharge, I immediately stopped receiving comms and I was never contacted by anyone in the PPD chain of command again. It was as if I had dropped off the face of the earth.

Of course, by being cut off from the PPD mission, I had accomplished what I had set out to do. But unfortunately, I couldn’t stop the ball from rolling by the time PPD wrote me off. The course had been laid and I was destined for discharge. Even if I had wanted to stop it at that point, I couldn’t.

As I look back on my overall military experience, I can’t help but wonder “what if?”. What if I had never been indoctrinated into PPD? What if I had never re-enlisted to accept that cross-training into Electronic Intelligence? What if I had told them, while I was in Maryland, that I didn’t want to be a part of this PPD and to leave me alone? I think of these things because I miss some aspects of my military experience. The one thing I’ll never miss, though, is being a part of PPD and whatever the ultimate goal is - sinister or otherwise.

I only wish I could have continued an otherwise wonderful career of which I was extremely proud. I miss serving my country and being a part of the most sophisticated and well trained military in the world.

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Prologue

When I look back on my life, there are things that happened that make me wonder if they were related to my ultimate role as an intuitive communicator while in the United States Air Force.

I’ll begin with my mother. When she was a small girl, I believe around 5 or 6 years old, she had an accident that seriously effected her reproductive organs. I believe this is significant to the story because the doctors told her during her first pregnancy that the odds of her being able to carry a child to full term were astronomical. Indeed, she eventually endured many miscarriages in her quest to have children. When she became pregnant with me, the doctors told her the same thing regarding the likelihood of my survival. Much to the amazement of the doctors at the time, my birth was quite normal with no complications. Of course, one healthy child among numerous miscarriages is not unprecedented. But in light of what I know now, my survival must have been the result of intervention coinciding with the genetic management procedures that she and I were being subjected to at the time. Unfortunately, my mother has no memory of ever being abducted.

There have also been events throughout my life that may also have involved some sort of intervention. I realize it’s quite easy to jump to the conclusion that the aliens were behind it all. So I caution the reader: I only write of these things because they may be related to the overall story.

When I was 7 years old, a friend and I had climbed onto the roof of a neighboring garage. From where we stood on the edge of the roof, I’d estimate the ground to have been approximately 25 feet below. We had been reaching out to pick walnuts off the tree growing next to the garage when the branch I was using for support snapped and I went tumbling to the ground. I remember a large source of energy completely taking over my body during the fall. What makes the incident stand out to the common onlooker, though, was that I fell 25 feet and landed on a concrete slab, directly on my back. I immediately got up and cried from the shock of it all, but I don’t remember feeling any pain. Intervention? I’ll probably never know.

When I was 10 or 11 years old, my family managed horse boarding stables in Yuba City, CA. One of our boarders was an SR-71 pilot, Major Roberts. He was stationed at nearby Beale Air Force Base. Beale was home to the SR-71 at the time. Major Roberts was the person responsible for planting in me the desire to join the USAF. He would bring his daughter to the stables and watch her ride while we talked by the fence of the arena. He would tell me how great it was being in the USAF, and that I would surely be a pilot just like him someday. This, of course, has no meaning by itself. But later, during my years with PPD, I surmised that the SR-71 program was one of the first black missions to hide a grey project.

During the SR-71’s early years, its classification level put it in the black category and therefore was a prime candidate to try out this new method of hiding grey programs behind the cloak of secrecy it provided. Captain White had alluded to this transition in grey security during my indoctrination. Was Major Roberts part of PPD? Did he know of my abilities and was therefore planting the seed for me to join the USAF once I became of age? I’m sure I’ll never know. I do know that it was due to him and his wondrous tales of how great it was to be in the USAF that I ended up enlisting right out of high school in September of 1982. Purposeful intervention or not, my path was set.
 

Unfortunately, this story doesn’t come in a tight little package with no questions left unanswered. I wish it did.
One thing I can say for sure is that I truly believe I wasn’t told the whole story regarding my role as an intuitive communicator. I think you can probably surmise the same thing after reading the whole story.

So what is the whole story? That, I don’t know. Are we in for a meteor strike that will leave the world electromagnetically limping so much that they will need the IC’s abilities? Only time will tell. I can only write what I experienced and hope that someone out there may know other things and through a cooperative effort, we may be able to put some of the pieces of the puzzle together.

I don’t think there’s a doubt in most people’s minds that we are, and have been for a long time, visited by aliens. And whether you believe what I have documented in this book or not, the events that countless people are witness to on a daily basis throughout the world will not change. I only hope that some of the light that I have been able to shed will shine on the path we are all heading down in search of the ultimate truth. Can it be far off? I don’t think so. The harder we search the more difficult it will become for them. They cannot keep things hidden forever.

No matter what religion you are, I believe you can see Jesus said it best in Matthew, Chapter 7, Verse 7 and 8 when He spoke in front of the multitudes during His famous Sermon on the Mount speech;

“Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and to he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.”

So if we continue to ask, seek and knock we will most surely find.

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