Orb

Orb

by Thomas O’Farrell

Copyright 2014 by Thomas O’Farrell

http://www.tomofarrell.ca

ISBN 978-0-9938130-0-9 Smashwords Edition

This book is a work of Fiction.

It is an entertainment.

Nothing is to be construed as real.

All persons, Organisations, places, and incidents,

come from the Authors mind.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced

without the Author/Publishers written permission.

Except that small excerpts may be used for review purposes only.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1- Miracle

Chapter 2 - Build

Chapter 3 - CSIS

Chapter 4 - Divorce

Chapter 5 - RCMP

Chapter 6 - Putin

Chapter 7 - Planning

Chapter 8 - Greenland

Chapter 9 - Bunty

Chapter 10 - Iceland

Chapter 11 - The Admiral

Chapter 12 - France

Chapter 13 - Obamaland

Chapter 14 - England

Chapter 15 - Julian Assange

Chapter 16 - Aftermath

Epilogue

Author

List of Security Organisations in this book

Prologue

I wondered if the police would kill me, or Julian Assange, or both of us.

My ballistic protection would not stop armour-piercing bullets.

But everyday police, if armed at all, would only have standard issue weapons.

I hoped.

The Police on guard at the Ecuadorian Embassy on Hans Crescent in central London

would have only seconds to react to my coming down in Orb, out of the dark sky and in total silence,

to Julian Assange climbing into Orb, and to us lifting off flying him away to freedom.

I hoped that, in the dark, they would not see Orb at all.

So I went ahead with my plan to do exactly that, and to get Julian Assange out of England.

Free of the Anglo-Saxon chains that had held him for far too long.

Chapter 1

Miracle

Some people call Orb a Spaceship, others call it a UFO, and Governments are trying with every resource in their arsenal to take it from me, and to hell with Governments. Every blasted one of them.

Orb started with an accident. An accident, and we’re all supposed to be so advanced.

Einstein or someone like that told us that most scientific discoveries have actually happened as a result of an accident. This is certainly true for me for I am no genius, not even close.

Scientists tend not to publicize this: it might affect their grants.

I found an old copy of a book authored during the Second World War by F. Jantsch, Ingeneur. It was published by Joh. Kasper & Co. Berlin W9. During 1943 but I don't have an actual date.

It was titled Fahrzeuggeneratoren, Bau, Betrieb und Einsatz. enough to put anybody off.

The book was very important to the Nazi German Reichsminster Albert Speer to whom it was dedicated. At this stage in the war Germany was suffering from a lack of gasoline and coal supplies were limited. Germany was hunting around for any answer they could find as to what could replace them for the tanks and ships so essential to their war efforts. One answer was wood gas. The book is about how to design wood gas generation units.

I had the book translated from the German, and I built a successful unit, and it actually did run an engine on wood gas. There was considerable interest. It died off.

I had found small handwritten notes with diagrams, placed inside my old copy of the book. Something to do with light and refraction of light so I ignored them for years. They just remained there inside the old copy of the book.

Later on I came across the book. I found the hand written notes again, and I actually read them, slowly translating on my own, thank God.

And how mind-blowing this was.

They laid out a theory that was far too incredible to be taken seriously. The notes described how to build a small model to experiment with the hidden properties of light.

The theory was a product of the writer's mind, and while Einstein did tell us imagination was more important to human development than intelligence alone I had not really agreed with him.

I do now, big time.

The notes and what they said just wouldn't go away. What if it works? Was it is possible to actually harness the energy that drives light across the galaxies?

The latest finding by astronomers is that some of the light we see has been travelling towards us for 15 billion years to reach earth. What powers the light? That was why he designed the ingenious model that he so briefly described in his small hand written notes.

I decided to build the model the German Engineer had described, it was not all that difficult, just a strange thing as it really defied all logic, well at least my logic at the time. Now I know better.

I tinkered with it, and then I tinkered some more, for a long time.

One day as I bent over the model to adjust the spectrum-controlling oscillator that I had set at a reasonable attenuation level for spectrum co-relation, by accident I nudged the separate amplification over-ride lever and straightened up.

My model was slowly floating upward dragging the worktable up with it.

And now it was all so obvious. So damned obvious. Why had I not seen it before?

Increasing the amplification beyond the spectrum equilibrium reversed the co-relation, for God’s sake, it was so obvious.

I grabbed the worktable trying to stop the upward motion but I couldn’t, then I reached up and grabbed the frame of the actual model, gently at first, then with more determination, then with real force, and finally with all my body weight and strength, and I couldn’t stop it’s rise, couldn’t budge it, not up, down, side to side, or in any direction. It continued on its singular upward path and there was no way to stop it without switching the whole thing off. So I climbed up on the worktable and cancelled out the amplification, and it came crashing down again, me with it, now subject to gravitation.

This was the proof of feedback.

It was as solid in its position in space relative to its light spectrum co-relation as is the earth itself and would have continued to rise no matter what was in the way. Had I set up even more of an over-riding amount it would have blown it’s way up through the roof and, table and all, off into outer space, virtually unstoppable, powered by the Galactic energy it captures.

I ended up in a heap on the floor, with the table almost smashed to pieces and the remains of the model all over the place, and my wife standing at the door with that sly look of amusement on her face, looking down at me.

‘What on earth are you up to now?’ she asked 'having fun? The neighbours are complaining about you again.'

It was hard to appreciate the enormity of what had just happened, what I had done. I had harnessed, by an accident, some if not all of the raw energy in our entire galaxy. The problem now was not how to harness this vast energy. The problem now was in how to control it. How to use it. And what should I use it for.

I never did discover the identity of the person who wrote the note. Who it was is forever lost to me. Was it a man or a woman? I will never know. The handwriting was small and precise, much like my own, clear and not ambiguous it was easy to read. It was European handwriting with their peculiar little squiggles. This I could tell, but is it the handwriting of a man or a woman? I don't know. How it ended up in the old copy of the F.Jantsch authored book I will never know. Was it Jantsch himself? I doubt it for while he was a smart fellow no doubt, this book was widely published and my old copy is one of thousands. Did the author face the ravages of the Russians entering Berlin at the end of the war and slip it into the pages of the book before standing and facing the men whose boots were clattering up the stairs? I will never know.

But I do know that whoever it was had a mind that equalled, perhaps even surpassed the greats of history, Leonardo, Newton, Einstein, all had tried, they had not succeeded. But this genius did. So I keep the original of the note, and I take it out every now and then just to feel it and gain a sense of communication with one of the world's great minds.

I got myself together enough to re-build my model. When I altered the amplification the model would float slowly up, equalized it and the model would stop in a fixed position, reversed it and the model would float slowly down. If I didn’t equalize it would try to drive down through the floor. The very heavy table it was attached to was suspended all the time.

The whole thing felt insane, but it was a fact. That is what happened.

I decided I had to incorporate it into a machine, it really didn’t matter what machine anything would do. Either an electrical generator: or a compressor: or a pump: or a car: or any machine at all. Not to prove anything, it had already been proven. I had to find out if it could be controlled.

But after a while I thought that since it was not just a force but also a directional force at the same time and very powerful, that I would build an aircraft. It seemed fairly obvious.

A Flying Machine, I would call it Orb. It would be wonderful.

I did not tell my wife, I know what she would have suggested: A psychiatrist.

Because the power of the Galaxy could be channelled not to just power any machine, but also could become a weapon the like of which had never even been conceived before, I had to make a really hard decision.

I think human beings having evolved over a very long time and need more time yet to reach the level of maturity needed to underpin a civilized society. Perhaps another few thousand years: if we survive that long. We are simply not advanced enough to handle the complexities we face.

We are Stone Age people in clothes. Cave dwellers with atom bombs instead of clubs.

If I told any person about it they would sell the secret instantly, probably to a Government, and if any government got hold of it they would immediately use the weapon to slaughter a few million, more or less, to subjugate all the others.

World War on a scale only Hollywood and the Pentagon could dream up to star Brad Pitt or Ben Affleck or someone like that.

My decision was to take the secret of what I had discovered with me to my grave.

Since my system had already been conceived, built, and sort of tested, I could rely on the basic design. I decided to build another one for Orb from scratch, a bit simpler, smaller, and better now that I understood how it worked.

After I built the first of what would be several tiny models I tested it. With very low levels of amplification, of course, and outside in case it blew up through the roof. I chained it to my buildings foundation, as a precaution. This was as dumb a thing as I had ever conceived. Tiny as it was it damned nearly pulled the foundations out at my first attempt to set it just to lift off and hover. Then it broke away from the chains, leaving behind a lot of the work table I had built it on and some of it’s own fractured frame and disappeared up into the sky, quite slowly but impossible to stop. It’s probably nearing Mars by now.

My wife was no longer amused: she had become concerned: I got the foundations fixed.

Another model later, with what I fondly imagined would be a basic control system, the same thing happened: it broke free taking off into the sky at a faster rate than the one before this time taking the table and all with it. It’s probably bypassing Jupiter by now.

I wonder what future aliens, discovering this thing in their galaxy will make of it, and us.

I was becoming frantic. I had little idea of how to control it, and feared that I might never be able to.

It was not worth even thinking of the virtually unlimited power that a marginally larger one would produce without a good control system to rein it in, and that if I built it into a small aircraft it could take off into outer space, with me inside it.

Or it could crash into earth, with me inside it.

Or accelerate so damned fast the whole thing would disintegrate, with me inside it, disintegrating.

I had to design a control system, or I would be defeated, and it had to be foolproof: since I would be depending on it for my life.

Then I had an idea. Why didn’t I think of this before?

My control solution was to use only one system at a time and to have as many separate systems as I needed. Eventually I managed to get both gaining altitude and forward direction to work at the same time, which simplifies things from the pilots point of view, well a bit anyway, flying this thing was never going to be easy, or natural.

After weeks that seemed like forever I got it to move slowly in any direction. And to stop which actually turned out to be quite easy.

So I designed my aircraft that was not really an aircraft at all, and it ended up looking like a Spaceship. I named it Orb, after the fairly large camera lens located in the front of the nose cone. But it is not an aircraft, as people understand them to be.

It would be totally silent in operation as there really are no moving parts and absolutely no vibration of any frequency. Not needing fuel the distance travelled would never be an issue, and except for occasional maintenance of the simple equipment I could travel the entire earth. It has a comfortable interior, with bunks: a kitchen: a decent bathroom, large capacity water storage tanks, and lots of storage. I incorporated advanced water filtration and treatment so I could suck up fresh water from lakes and rivers and even a small clothes washer and dryer. A big electrical generator, a high capacity heating and air conditioning unit with it’s own tiny power system. And it does look like a Spaceship, in fact more like one than even I had imagined.

As soon as the design became fixed I needed a place to build it, my own small workshop being no good for a Spaceship 32 feet long and 8 feet wide plus the stabilizers making it almost 12 feet wide. I felt a need for secrecy and I could not find it here, where I was too well known.

My neighbours were very nosy, always asking questions.

I decided to temporarily move a long way from my hometown in southwest Ontario, to move north to avoid curious eyes.

This was one secret I was not going to share, not ever, and that was that.

Chapter 2

Build

I was very conscious of how easily I could lose my secret to the Surveillance States.

There is in real life a Global Spying Conglomerate called the ‘Five Eyes’ and this group is the intelligence and enforcement arm – for the Military Industrial Complex - and denies it exists.

The name ‘Five Eyes’ is wonderfully apt and spooky, worthy of J.K.Rowling herself.

Eisenhower was right in his final message warning not just the US public but the entire western world of the existence and growing menace of this Military Industrial Complex – and, he was ignored.

This complex is rooted in irrational fears of invasion and goes back to the Second World War and even before. But no country seeks to invade any member of the 'Five Eyes'. There is no enemy. The Military Industrial Complex is oblivious to this truth. It has to be. They need the money and their countries need the jobs is their reasoning.

Canada is a founding member of the ‘Five Eyes’. The others are the US, the U.K. Australia and New Zealand. The ‘Five Eyes’ are smug, complacent, and deadly. Their main tasks are creating wars to give their existence meaning, and economic espionage to make sure they stay ahead of the competition. This allows the Military Industrial Complex to thrive, actually it is the only way they can. Economic espionage is vital to the same goal of War, War, and more War, and it's vital to the weapons producing economies of the five countries.

There is also the ‘Nine Eyes’. It consists of the ‘Five Eyes’ plus Denmark, France, Norway and the Netherlands.

There is also the ‘Fourteen Eyes’ officially known as SIGINT Seniors Europe. It consists of the ‘Nine Eyes’ plus Germany, Belgium, Italy, Spain, and Sweden.

They are all equally guilty of every thing each one does. They share everything. In the same way the getaway driver is just as guilty as the ones that go inside the bank to rob it. They routinely torture, assassinate, spy, kidnap, undermine Governments, and lie non-stop.

My concern was that these insane psychotics would learn of Orb, realize it’s potential for Military use, and come after me to get us both.

Western Governments are corrupted, perverted, venal, and debauched. They are all bought and paid for. It’s the super corrupted system we still, without even thinking about it, call democracy.

But what we now have is a hollow sham of a real Democracy. It has failed us and we need a completely different way of governing ourselves, and no more going around chanting like half-wits Democracy, Democracy in spite of what it has become - because we cannot be bothered to think of a better system. No more of championing this failed Democracy crap.

Thanks to a few people like Daniel Ellsberg, Julian Assange of WikiLeaks and Edward Snowden, and their helpers of which there are not enough, the ‘Eyes’ are becoming exposed.

The 'Eyes' are vicious, murderous, and relentless in their self-defence. It's an on-going battle and I don't know which side will win. But I do know which side I am on.

So I finally told my wife Kathy about it all, she's a journalist with little income as is the fate of almost all journalists as long as they stay with the dying traditional Media that grovels on it's knees to Governments.

I took her into my workshop where she rarely ever went and showed her the model. I switched it on and operated it, suspended it in space for her, up and down and sideways, and tried to explain it all to her without giving away the secret of how it actually works.

She was no longer amused - but shock does that to you.

I told her of my need to go up north, just for a little while I said, to build Orb in a well hidden place if I could find one, this she well understood, but did not like at all. She was, actually, quite put out by it, not happy about the separation. So she would be left alone, but only for a little while I told her, about six to eight months or perhaps a year at the most.

The time would pass in a flash I told her.

My savings, that were considerable as I had been a successful businessman, would be more than I needed to build Orb.

I went north to find a workshop.

I drove through Sudbury, Timmins and Kapuskasing, then further north to Hearst, a small town but it had all the retail stores I needed for supplies, I wanted to be close enough to a source of materials yet well isolated from people as well.

People are curious and very nosy about secret things like Spaceships and UFO's.

Being not far from a small town was ideal, I thought. After hunting around I still could not find a place isolated enough for me.

Then I thought of speaking to the Chief of a local Native Indian Band, the Wawamanitanae. Their Reservation was about 14 miles west of Hearst, about a mile up a side road from the main highway so I went there.

‘Rez’ is slang for Reservation, it is Indian governed land that white people cannot buy, cannot even rent without either the local Chief’s permission or that of their Band Council.

There was a small store that sold what they called Authentic Indian Art, indeed there was a sign at the main road turn-off that made sure nobody was left in doubt about it, the sign was huge and was an Indian in full war-paint and head-dress, looking very Authentic. Heavily muscled like Arnold Swarzenegger and downright frightening actually, having a huge bow in hand firing a big arrow up the side road to guide me up to the Rez. He had a few scalps tied to his belt, and one foot raised up on the skull of a dead white man, which was a nice touch of Authentic Indian Art. Upon seeing this sign small children would burst into tears.

I went to the store and asked the pleasant young girl behind the counter if I could make an appointment to see the chief. She cast her eyes behind her to a small back room, indicating the Chief was in there. I later found out she was one of the Chiefs many daughters.

‘That’s me,’ said a voice from inside the room ‘come on in.’

I entered what was apparently his office, and was invited by a wave of his hand to take a seat.

‘What can I do for you?’ he asked in a pleasant manner.

The chief was very Indian. He had the broad features, long black hair in a ponytail, and was fairly short and stocky. I placed him at about 50 years but he could have been 70 for all I knew. His small office had a long rack of guns: a really long rack of really big guns: there were dozens: I later found out it was the Rez's entire arsenal; he kept it under lock and key.

I spoke the blunt truth. I wanted total secrecy for my project, was prepared to pay rent in cash, did not need receipts, did not want to buy property just to rent it, probably for six months to a year, the workshop was more important to me than the house but it was not all that big a deal, in other words I spoke his language. And it suddenly became simple. He had a spot for me. Just like that.

‘Billy Plain is doing time,’ he said ‘his place might do.' There was no further talk about Billy Plain, what he had done and how much time he got, and I never asked.

‘Let’s go see if it suits you.’ he said and got to his feet, we walked out to the roadway that was the main street of the reservation, up a little bit to where there was another smaller street off to the right. At the end of this street, which had four houses, was Billy Plain’s place.

It was fairly well hidden and surrounded by trees. A small house, but with a decent sized workshop and a fairly large yard. That it belonged to somebody other than the Chief did not seem to matter to him, so I asked no questions. Always a good approach I found the longer I stayed on the ‘Rez’.

‘Yes Chief,’ I said ‘This will do me fine, how much?’

And we got right down to the important issues on the spot.

‘Twelve-hundred and fifty bucks all in.’ he said, watching me closely, as he wanted to know if I would find it a huge amount and may prove to be a troublesome tenant.

‘Very well,’ I said passing the test easily as I showed no emotion at all ‘I’ll go to the bank and get the cash right now, when can I take over?’

The Chief seemed relieved and said how about