Dulce Base (The Dulce Files Book 1) (6 page)

“The Grays function in a mode that’s apparently military in nature with a rigidly defined social structure that holds science and ‘conquering worlds’ to be the prime movers,” Stan went on. “Physically, they stand 3 to 3
1/2
feet in height, have a small, thin build and heads much larger than a human’s. There are no auditory lobes, no hair, just limited facial features, a slit mouth and no nose to speak of.  Their arms resemble those of a praying mantis in its normal position, and they reach to the creatures’ knees, the long hands with the small palm and claw-like fingers of a various number of digits – often two short digits and two long, but some species have three or four fingers. They have small feet with four small claw-like toes, organs that are similar to human organs but which have obviously developed according to a different mutational process. Each has two separate brains, movement that’s deliberate, slow and precise. The two separate brains are held apart from one another by a mid-cranial lateral bone, meaning they have an anterior and posterior brain, though there’s no apparent connection between the two. Some autopsies have revealed a crystalline network which is thought to have a function in telepathic functions, probably to help maintain the group-consciousness between them. Functions of group consciousness does have a disadvantage in that decisions within the larger Gray collective come rather slowly as the matter at hand filters through the group awareness to those who must make a decision. To top it all off, they’ve also evolved beyond the need for reproductive systems or digestive systems and now only reproduce by cloning.”

“So no kickin’ ‘em in the balls,” Tommy laughed, and a few of the other men joined in, mostly the young and less-educated, like Tommy himself, and Bobbie. They were the two constant jokers of the team, but two they had to put up with – they were super soldiers. Turn couldn’t help but think the men’s opinion of he and the others was diminished because of the silly antics of those two. But then he knew they were just blowing off steam, getting ready for what lay ahead of them.

“How ‘bout kickin’ ‘em in those big, stupid eyes of theirs instead?” Jerry piped-up next, eliciting another round of laughter.

“Ah, yes…the eyes,” Stan said, his voice rising over the rowdy men. “They have large tear-shaped eyes – slanted approximately 35 degrees – which are opaque black with vertical slit-pupils.”

Stand paused, as if he were waiting for something, but when it never came, he continued with the lecture.

“These cloning techniques have been given to our government in exchange for ‘favors,” Stan continued with only a slight frown, like a tired high school teacher that’d heard and seen it all before. “Their genetics are partly based on insectoidal genetics, close relative to the insect family. The larger Grays – known as Type B, or Bellatrax, Grays – apparently have some vestigial reproductive capability, and some of the hybrid species that have been cross-bred with the taller Reptilian species have full reproductive capability.”

“Ahem,” Ellis coughed from the side of the room, “why don’t we get into their minds…if you will.”

Stan nodded. “The brain capacity of a Gray is estimated to be between 2500 and 3500 cc, compared to 1300 cc for the average human. Due to the cloning process, the neural matter is artificially-grown brain matter, and the Grays have technology that enables them to insert memory patterns and consciousness into clones in any manner or pattern that they wish.”

“Clones?” Charlie echoed.

“Their science deals largely with the study of other life forms and genetic engineering,” Stu took up from the back, drawing the men’s attention. “They’ve supposedly had a part to play in the alteration of human genetics over thousands of years. It seems that they may be trying to cross breed with humans in order to create a ‘mixture race’ that would be better than either. It’s commonly believed that they’re a dying species, one that’s cloned so much that now, with each successive cloning, the species grows weaker. They’re trying to infuse new life into their species by creating the mixed breed.”

“There seem to be two main social classes,” Stan picked up. “One is the more hawkish, more abrupt, crude and blunt. The more dove-like ones are more refined and capable of a business-like behavior towards humans, and prefer to use more ‘diplomatic’ behavior to gain control over humans. This type of Gray is what I believe is being referred to as the ‘Orange’ class of Grays.”

“So how do we kill the bastards?”

Stan smiled as the men chuckled to Jerry’s remark.

“The Grays are photosensitive, meaning any bright light hurts their eyes.” Stan paused and waited for the men to get themselves together. “They avoid sunlight, and primarily travel at night for this reason. Camera flashes cause them to back up. That could be used as a weapon against them, but they recover quickly. Still,” he continued, giving the men a hard look, “that could buy enough time for an average person to escape. Use commands, or nonsensical words in the form of commands and they will back up. Their brain is more logical than ours and they do not create ’fun’. They don’t understand poetry either, so start spouting gibberish if you’ve got nothing else. What really confuses the hell out of ‘em, however, is saying things in Pig Latin. We learned that in a hurry upon our initial infiltrations after the base was lost in ’75, and used it against them quite well.”

“But not well enough to win,” Ellis reminded both Stan and the men.

Stan nodded before continuing. “The Grays read your intent, because they use your body’s frequency. The human race broadcasts a frequency, one that they recognize as an electromagnetic impulse. Each person has a slightly different frequency, and that difference is what we call ’personality’. When a human thinks, they broadcast strong impulses, in the case of ’fear’ the frequency is ’loud’ and easy to recognize.”

“And by the same right, a calm and composed mindset should be far more difficult to ’recognize,’” Carl pointed out.

“We can shield ourselves against them, however 95% of the human race never tries to control their thoughts, and controlling our own thoughts is the best weapon,” Stan pressed on. “The average person rarely thinks in a clear pattern. That allows the brain to think in a chaotic way. Control your thoughts, and the chances that the Grays can control you – or worse, abduct you – goes way down. Controlling my own thoughts has kept me alive for years.”

“You make it sound like bullets won’t kill ‘em,” Turn said.

“Oh, they will,” Stan said, “it’s just that they’ll probably kill a good many of you before you have a chance to make those bullets do any harm.”

“That’s why these weird mind tricks we’re talking about are so important,” Ellis said. “I’ve seen whole teams get wiped out because they didn’t try things as simple as that.”

“Are their minds really that powerful, sir?” Fred asked, his voice skipping a bit. It was clear he didn’t like asking about such.

Stan nodded. “The Grays are primarily situated as 4th density beings, although there are a small number that are 3rd and 6th density. To 3rd density humans they appear cold, cruel and heartless.  Nothing could be further from the truth…to a point. They are, in fact, extremely curious about all aspects of existence, highly analytical and devoid of sentimentality. They can experience emotional manifestations radiated from the terrestrial 3rd density human, and use this ability generally as a mood-elevator. The Grays manipulate humans in order to create situations of conflict or extreme pain and emotion to acquire these sensations. They are, in effect, sensation junkies. The Grays have the ability to pick out our emotions, thoughts and experiences. For them, this is the closest they can come to experiencing feeling. Of course to those beings who have some form of ethical conduct – namely, us humans – the Grays appear psychotic and degrading. They are masters of mind-control and mental implantation technique. Their physical attributes reflect their psychotic souls - we could easily consider them to have anti-social attributes as well as tendencies toward megalomania and schizophrenia. They have been described by some as being absolutely mad. To make matters worse, they’re performing other actions with terrestrial humans that are quite perverse. The Grays are playing a game with us that depends heavily on maintaining a situation where humans view themselves as limited, fatalistic beings with no control over their own destiny. They continually manipulate humans…that is, they’re always playing the domination/control game.”

Stan paused there and the men shifted nervously in their seats, like you’d do after something unpleasant or embarrassing had been said. It was clear to all they were up against something the likes of which they’d never seen before, and something that could end them all utterly, and at will.

“What’s the security look like?” Carl asked of Ellis, trying to ease the tension that’d suddenly built up in the room.

In response to Carl’s question, Ellis nodded at Captain Walter Leathers, who stepped forward.

“There’s so much security at Dulce that’d be nearly impossible to cover it all,” he said, “and I know this from when I worked down there.”

“You were down there?” Billy asked, his mouth slightly open.

Walter nodded. “Was stationed there from ’73 to ’75 – they pulled me out just a month before the base fell, just dumb luck is all.”

“And that dumb luck worked out in our favor,” Ellis butted-in. “Walter here was being trained to take over base security before he was sent to inspect the security system of another base. If he hadn’t been, there’d be no one alive today that would know what we need to know.

The men nodded at the Dutchman’s words, and looked at Walter with some newfound respect.

“The main weapon that the Grays and their Reptilian allies will have besides the flash guns will be a form of sonic.”

“Sonic?” Charlie said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“It’s built in with each light fixture and most of the cameras, a device that could render a man unconscious in seconds with nothing more than a silent tone. At Dulce there are also still and VCR cameras, eye print, hand print stations, weight monitors, lasers, ELF and EM equipment, heat sensors and motion detectors and quite a few other methods…all using this sonic feature that can kill you at any moment, and with just the push of a button.”

“And it’s controlled from their main control station, I’ll bet,” Bobbie said, “so where’s that? We’ll get in, disable it, boom – problem solved!”

“There’s so many types of sensors, radar, infrared, heat sensors, microwave, EMGW, and satellite that I just don’t think you’d make it too far,” Walter said with a frown, for he wanted what Bobbie had said to work, wanted it desperately, but not so desperately that he’d throw away good men like they were blades of grass in the wind. “Most of the sensors are powered by magnetic power, but the only thing you’ll notice on the surface will be an occasional satellite dish.”

“What Walter says is true,” Ellis said, picking up the tale, “There’s no way you could get very far into the base, and even if you
somehow
made it to the second level, you’d be spotted within fifteen feet, your head caved-in like a melon if you weren’t just knocked unconscious, only to wake up in some hell called reprogramming that you didn’t even know had taken place.”

“More than likely you’d just become an inmate and never see the light of the surface world again,” Stu added, much to the chagrin of the men present. “If you
were
’lucky’ you’d be re-programmed and become one of the countless spies for the Ruling Caste. At least then you’d get some scraps from the table.”

“And if I’m
unlucky
?” Tommy asked, that smirk of his front and center.

Ellis looked over at Walter, who only shrugged before turning back to Tommy.

“Chattel, cattle, maybe some reproductive slave…who knows? Many they use genetic testing on, taking away any kind of humanity as we’d call it, for how do you call some cross between a man and an animal – or two or three – a man anymore?”

“That stuff’s down there?” Robbie said, his face twisted up like he was about to be sick at a restaurant and was hurriedly looking for the door.

“I don’t know what’s down there,” Ellis said, “I haven’t been there in years – I can’t imagine.”

There were a lot of deep breaths around the room as men took stock of the situation, and how bad it really was, for their chance of survival, at least.

“So let’s say we do make it in,” Fred said, looking at Walter, “what then?”

“If we can make it past that first port of entry, then we’re really in the clear, as far as what we have to go through.”

Walter nodded. “Security is tight at first, but then once we get past it and to the elevators or vehicle ramps, we may well have the run of the place.”

“Where’s that security command post, the one that could unleash that sonic to kill us with a flash?”

“In the deepest levels, Level 7,” Walter said.

“Well then how the hell do we get to that?” Charlie laughed.

“We take the underground train system.”

9 – Tube Trains

Whooo wheee!

“Told you so,” Walter said with a sideways grin and an equally-sideways look at Charlie, who was now shaking his head after the long, drawn-out whistle of disbelief.

“God damn, the whole
planet?
” Fred blurted out.