"Manipulated" Epilogue

The darkened ballroom murmured with the anticipation of the three-hundred or so assembled guests. Most were seated, facing the empty stage, but some had opted to stand along the back wall.

Music suddenly erupted through the hotel's sound system, the melodious synthesizer theme of the "X-Files" TV show whipping the crowd into cheers and applause. A spot light shone down on an empty podium, behind which a banner displayed for all to see "Welcome to C-Con 2006!"

A man in his early thirties strides up to the front of the stage, his T-shirt mirroring the display behind him. The cheers increase as some of the seated throng rise to give a standing ovation. The man at the podium speaks into the microphone, barely audible over the music. "Welcome friends! Welcome to the sixteenth annual Conspiracy Conference!"

More cheers, more whistles, hoops, and hollers. The crowd is in a frenzy, too much excitement for a group that normally finds solace home alone in front of a computer, digging for the truth. The man on stage lets them continue until the music ends, before he motions with his hands for them to settle down. They reluctantly follow his request for silence and gradually return to their seats once again.

"We have a lot to get through this week, over twenty different speakers, five authors, ten seminars, and all time high forty-seven display booths!" He paused to let the applause begin anew, then silenced them once more.

"To kick things off right, this year I've invited one of the most well respected authors in the field of secret U.S. Government Projects to be our keynote speaker. Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you... Professor Marcus Rosenberg!"

Thunderous applause, the crowd once again rising to their feet en masse, as a thin man dressed in classic business attire comes on stage to join the first speaker. They exchange handshakes before Rosenberg usurps the podium.

"How's everyone doing today?" he asks the crowd as they seat themselves, listening in rapt attention to one of their heroes. "As most of you know, I've been writing now for nearly twenty years, most of you probably own at least one of my books."

He picks up a small remote, clicking a button to turn on a slide projector located somewhere behind the crowd. A bright image is displayed on a screen behind him, the unmistakable picture of a mushroom cloud in full bloom.

"The year is 1935; Adolph Hitler is in power, the Nazi party controls Germany. Hitler starts pulling in all of his resources, the top minds in his country, to begin work on a number of special projects, projects that push the boundaries of science and technology. Hitler wanted to build the perfect soldier, to send rockets into space, to make his air force the best in the world, long before the United States even imagined doing so.

"His scientist were given free reign over their projects, and with this freedom many atrocities were committed. Mostly at the expense of the Jewish people, a race he deemed unequal to that of the Aryan Nation.

"When word of Germany's scientific progress reached the U.S., our government found itself falling far behind, and they scrambled to catch up. We began our own top secret projects, projects so secret that not even the President was made aware of all of them."

Marcus clicked his remote, advancing the slides, the cover of his first book now displayed.

"1941... the Manhattan Project is born. Scientist are under the impression that they are researching atomic energy as a renewable power source, in reality they are developing a weapon that will forever change the way in which the world is run."

"1943... Project Rainbow... better known as the Philadelphia Experiment. The U.S. Navy investigates the use of magnetic fields as a means to make their ships invisible to the naked eye. The experiment was a horrific failure. The ship shifted out of phase with our reality, and killed nearly all on board. Those unlucky enough not to have died during the experiment continued to shift in and out of phase for years, until death finally claimed them."

"1945... Project Dreamland is begun in the Nevada dessert. Also known as 'Area 51', it is here that scientists explore experimental physics, bending the natural laws of our universe in order to develop new aircraft. This has led many to believe that the government is in possession of alien technologies. Whether this is true or not, I still haven't deduced."

"1946... Project Paper-clip... World War Two has ended. Nazi scientists are smuggled into the U.S. to escape trials for war crimes that they have committed. They are given asylum here, as long as they continue their research."

"1953... Project MK-ULTRA... the CIA, seeking a means of mind control, exploring the existence of telekinesis and telepathy, and under the direction of ex-Nazi scientists, develop the mind altering drug LSD. Test subjects are given the drug without consent, and in some cases, without knowledge."

"These projects continue even until today. My newest book deals with one that started in 1975, but has ties going all the back to 1957. Project Stargate... another CIA idea. This project further explored the uses of parapsychology, namely, using remote viewer's as spies, and in some instances, assassins."

Professor Rosenberg paused, trying to look into the faces of those gathered but finding the spot light too bright to do so. He let out a long sigh, the sound system amplifying it to an unintended level.

A sea of waving hands, like wheat blowing in the wind, rose up before him, confirming what he already knew.

"I've been hyping this book for over a year now, I think it's time I told you about my next book, even if my publicist doesn't agree. Would you all like to hear about it?"

An unintelligible murmur of agreement flooded the room, some clapping, and some whistling.

"I've recently been contacted by someone who promised to let me in on another of these top secret projects. His descriptions of strange experiments in psychology, neurology, sexuality, biochemistry, genetics and human development, piqued my curiosity, but I needed more proof before I could make the information public. Through several phone conversations he convinced me that he was, in fact, legit.

"Over the last few months he anonymously dropped information into my mailbox here in Philly, but we had never met in person. That is until last night.

"I received a strange phone call around two in the morning. He sounded scared, paranoid that he had been discovered by his superiors. He felt his life was in danger and he wanted to meet with me, to give me one last bundle of information he had been able to smuggle out of the facility he worked in.

"I agreed to meet him, of course. I never got to see his face, he merely pulled his car close enough to hand me a thick file folder before he drove off into the night.

"What he gave me turned out to be a virtual gold mine of information. Records, project listings, experiment results, signed documents... it was all there in my hands. Proof of possibly the first project ever started here in the U.S., one started in 1939 under the code name Phoenix.

"I was so excited I almost didn't come here today. I spent the rest of the night poring over those files, and what I've discovered is absolutely shocking!

"More shocking was the fact that, at some point, after I had fallen asleep, someone broke into my home. The documents were stolen away from me, my computer's hard drive removed, and all traces that I had ever held those papers in my hands erased. I think my phones have been tapped as well. Just before coming here, I received a call. The person on the other end of the line warned me not to tell anyone about what I've seen and heard, or I would find myself in grave danger. I believe I'm now being followed, watched to see what I will do next.

"My friends, Big Brother does not want you to know about what I have discovered! My life has already been threatened if I speak openly about this Project Phoenix, but you deserve to know the truth! The whole world deserves to know the truth! I will not be silenced! I will shout out to all who are willing to hear and believe!

"THEY ARE CREATING HUMAN-ALIEN HYBRIDS TO FIGHT IN WORLD WAR THREE!"

In the back of the now roaring ballroom calmly stood a man in a dark suit. He was smiling.

'I can't believe how easy this is. They'll believe anything if you make it look official, ' thought the man as he slowly made his way to the exit. Once out of the conference, he found himself surrounded by several booths, each decorated with proof of the conspiracy they wished to prove true.

All of his old favorites were here, Roswell, JFK, Martin Luther King Jr., Free Masons, and the Illuminati. Some took an old idea and used a new twist, like the one he now stood in front of that touted 'Nostradamus Knew About 9/11'.

Still smiling, he pulled his cell phone free of his pocket, flipping it open and putting it to his ear in one smooth motion.

"Hey doc... it's Reynolds. Just wanted to let you know that everything's been taken care of... Yes... you were right. Chase was smuggling out files... don't worry... yeah I know... I took care of it. Yeah, two birds with one stone. Chase is gone and the leaked info has been tainted... no one will believe it now, except for a few nut-balls... I call it hiding in plain sight... works for area '51' so why not us? Speaking of which, I spotted a few of their boys here... two so far, but I'm sure there are others. Yeah... Oh, the Council... I called them an hour ago... you're in the clear..."

Reynolds made his way between the booths until he found the escalator leading down to lobby.

"... So, how's the project going? Good, good... She's still having nightmares? I warned you about altering her past... She's just a kid, Mal. Maybe if she had something more comforting to snuggle with... How about a Teddy bear? I could pick one up before I head back... No problem... Do you want me to bring you back a cheese steak? I'm in Philly, Mal, where did you think I was? By the way, what did you decide to name her? Really? Are you kidding me? No... No... Believe me, I get where you're coming from... it's just that, don't you think that's a little uninspired? I mean, you and your team are supposed to be the brightest and most creative people in the country... and you chose to name her Eve? It's just so... so... obvious, don't you think? Listen, I'm almost outside... I'll talk to you about this name thing later, okay? Bye."

Flipping the phone closed, Reynolds stepped from the chill of the air-conditioned hotel into the oppressive heat of a late July sun beating down on an urban landscape. 'I hate this fucking heat, ' he complained to himself while loosening his tie.

Stepping to the curb he scanned the traffic coming towards him, seeking the well known yellow of an approaching taxi. A few moments later he had hailed one, and as he began to open its door a shout distracted him.

"The end of days is upon us! Repent, all ye sinners! Let God into your hearts or ye will truly know the fires of hell!"

Reynolds looked over his shoulder at the homeless preacher yelling his gospels to anyone who would listen. The filthy wretch was dressed head to toe in heavy black robes despite the baking summer sun. Jon pause only briefly to read the cardboard sign the man held aloft:

So shall it be at the end of the world:
the angels shall come forth,
and sever the wicked from among the just

Without further delay he pulled the car door handle open. Just as he was stepping in, the homeless preacher grasped his arm tightly.

Wrenching his captured arm away, Reynolds looked at the man with contempt. "Buddy, you don't know the half of it," he growled before he closed the door.

The taxi moved away, leaving the preacher to seek new disciples. Two blocks away, the car containing Reynolds blended in with a group of other yellow cabs, disappearing into the herd.

... and in other news... The driver involved in last night’s horrible car crash on I-95 has been identified as forty year old Dr. David Chase... Dr. Chase was once a well respected biologist, but he mysteriously dropped out of the public eye almost fifteen years ago, leading many to believe that he had developed a drug habit...

Police are looking for the cause of the accident that killed Dr. Chase and snarled traffic during this mornings commute into the city... The investigating officer had this to say...

"We are at a complete loss. At the time of the accident, sometime around 2am, Mr. Chase's car swerved into the center divider at speeds estimated to be near ninety miles per hour. The impact flipped his car into oncoming traffic before bursting into flames. By the time rescue workers arrived on the scene it was too late, everything inside had been completely consumed by fire. We have not yet ruled out drug use as a possible explanation."

It is unknown if Dr. Chase's family has been informed of this morning's tragedy...

Switching stories now... How about that heat today? Jim, are we ever going to get some relief?

Don't worry, Nancy, temperatures should be dropping off into the sixties tonight after a line of thunderstorms...

The corridor was long. It stretched out in front of him as far as he could see. He was cold, naked, alone. The steel door behind him groaned, the weight of the water too much for it to hold back for much longer.

Once again he heard her call out to him, but he couldn't see her. She was too far away for his eyes, her voice echoing down the corridor of concrete and steel.

The door behind him began to crack, sprays of water soaking him, freezing him to the bone.

"Don't leave me, Robbie!" the mystery girl cried out to him, her voice getting louder the further on he ran.

Then he saw her. She was a young girl, no more than ten years old, hair the color of spun gold, and eyes blue as glacial ice. She was naked and crying, tears streaking her cheeks, her sobs crushing Robbie's heart.

"I'm coming!" he called as he ran to her, but he was too late, too far away from her to sweep her up and carry her away to safety.

The door behind him exploded open, the rush of chilling water coming at him like a tidal wave. He was overtaken, swallowed up by its churning currents before he could react. The water stole away his breath.

He choked, his life starting to leave him as he drowned. Suddenly the face of the little girl appeared before him in the maelstrom, her lips moving silently. 'I love you, Robbie.'

His heart soared even as his lungs burned with choking liquid. His world went black.

Robbie awoke screaming, his covers completely kicked off of his bed. For a long time he just sat there, catching his breath and shaking away the memory of his nightmare. The same nightmare he'd been having for almost two weeks now.

'Who is that girl?' he wondered. 'Why do I feel like I know her? Like she's real?'

"Coming Mom!" he called back. Shaking the remnants of the little girl from him mind, he swung his legs out from his bed and stood up.

"Come on, squirt! If you're late I'll eat your bacon," his sister Steph chided on the other side of his door.

Still nude from sleeping, Robbie opened the door to see his equally undressed older sister moving away down the hall, her sexy ass swaying back and forth with each step.

"You eat my bacon and I'll bend you over the kitchen table and fuck it back out of you!" he called to her.

"Ooooh, is that a promise baby bro?" she giggled as she ran down the stairs, Robbie at her heels, playfully pinching her bare behind.