Dulce Truths

“But… I thought that was when we signed the treaty,” Turn says. “Grays weren’t supposed to have any bases before then, right… most of all not with the U.S. government.”

Up ahead, Bennewitz shrugs. “Let’s not forget that it was Truman that created Majestic 12, not Eisenhower. And let’s also not forget that Ike met with three Pleiadians at California’s Edwards Air Force Base in ’54… a full year before the meeting at Holloman.”

“But did he know about Dulce?” Turn asks

“I’m getting there,” Bennewitz says over his shoulder, a little perturbed by the sound of it. “Now, a year after the first meeting with the Nordics, Ike has a second meeting with them. This time it’s at Holloman Air Force Base in New Mexico. Air Force One lands, Ike tells the tower to turn off their radar, and then just like that, three UFOs appear. One lands, one hovers as a lookout, and one takes off from view. Ike gets off his plane and heads into the landed UFO, stays in there for a full 45 minutes.” Bennewitz lets out a sigh then, something that’s not so easy when running. “Let’s just say that nothing went right. The Pleiadians — like most peaceful aliens in the universe — wanted us to stop our nuclear weapons tests. In exchange, they’d negotiate some sort of positive settlement to the Earth’s problems.”

“But it didn’t happen that way,” Walter says, and up ahead, Turn can see Bennewitz nodding.

“Nope, sure didn’t,” the wild-eyed man says. “Instead Ike signed a treaty with the Grays, mainly because he wanted their technology… something he figured the Ruskies didn’t have. It’s a shame, too, because the Pleiadians — sometimes called Nordics, mind you — wanted to help us get rid of the Grays.” He laughs. “Boy, sure coulda used their help today, huh?”

“I guess what I’m wondering,” Turn says, “is how’d it all go so wrong? How’d we go from peaceful relations to twenty years later shooting it out in these tunnels?”

“Treaty was broken by the Grays,” Walter says beside him, “and in many ways. First, they were supposed to stay out of our affairs and we theirs. That’s easy enough for us — we can’t travel to their planet — but they’ve been embroiled in our politics for more than a decade now, ever since Kennedy was killed.” He shrugs. “Their promise to give us some technology was kept, though I personally feel that they’ve held out on the good stuff.”

“Ha, you’ve got that right!” Paul says from up ahead.

“As far as we know they haven’t made a treaty with any other nations on Earth, which was part of the deal. The public hasn’t been informed of them, which was another. The real clincher however, are the abductions. The original treaty that Eisenhower signed said that the Grays could abduct humans for various experiments, but that they’d also have to provide the names of every person they took. At first the Grays abided by this, telling MJ12 of all the humans they abducted and did God knows what on. But that all stopped in the early-60s, again, around the time Kennedy was killed.”

“What was so special about that time?” Turn asks.

“It’s when our government was stolen from us,” Bennewitz says, “and a shadow government put in its place. No longer is the president in charge — those days are long behind us.”

It was a lot to digest, all that Turn was hearing, and despite the numerous questions in his mind, he couldn’t seem to put any into words. It was probably for the better — he wasn’t sure he wanted to know it all, though he knew that wasn’t true, either. Turn wanted to know it all, every last bit… and he had a feeling the two men he was with were just the people to tell him.

That telling would have to wait for another time, however. Another fork in the tunnel appears, they go left this time, and about a hundred yards down it they finally find something — a door.

“This is it,” Bennewitz says as they reach it, “the time shed.” He looks down at his watch as he says it. “Just in time, too — three minutes.”

“Damn, I hope she’s warmed up,” Walter says as he goes to the door and makes to open it.

Bennewitz chuckles. “Oh, she’s always warm.”

Walter gets his hand on the metal doorknob, turns it, and pulls the door open. There before them is nothing more than a shimmering curtain of light, though that’s not quite right either. If Turn had to describe it as anything he’d say it looked like one of those rain puddles you’d see at a gas station, an oil sheen floating at the top and giving the water a purplish, greenish sort of look.

“What… what… what the hell is that thing?”

“That, my friend,” Walter says as he claps Turn on the shoulder, “is the time machine.”

“And it’s time we get in ‘er,” Bennewitz says, then glances to Walter. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Without another word he turns away from them, goes to the door, and walks right into that shimmering light. There’s no spark or crackle and certainly no explosion. One moment Bennewitz is there, the next he’s not.

“You next,” Walter says.