Star Trek The Original Series From History's Shadow Read Online Free PDF

he did or saw while attached to this new project—Majestic 12—never was revealed to the public. This was important; it was historic, and here he was, James Wainwright, at the beginning of it all.
    “Tell me something, Professor,” he said after a moment. “What do you think we’ll really find? I mean, once we start digging, what are you hoping for?”
    Pursing his lips, Carlson pondered the question for several seconds before answering. “You mean do I hope we find friends out there, with all manner of advanced technology they’re willing to share with us? Absolutely.” Sighing, he took one last puff on his cigarette, watching the smoke swirling above him before crushing the butt in the ashtray. “But if there are enemies out there looking to kick our asses? Then, yeah, I want to be ready for that, too.”

FOUR
    Muroc, California
    October 15, 1947
    With his back to the wall in the corner booth of Jack’s Roadside Diner, Adlar divided his attention among the other patrons, the door, and the two-lane highway beyond the restaurant’s gravel parking lot. Only the occasional passing car disrupted the otherwise tranquil scene of the arid, barren terrain bordering the western edge of Muroc Army Air Field. Dust from a car leaving the diner was carried on the slight breeze, adding new layers of grime to the other vehicles scattered across the lot. Inside the restaurant was a mix of men and women, many of them dressed in military uniforms. There were a few examples of men dressed in clothing denoting some form of social or financial stature, but to Adlar, most of the diner’s other patrons appeared to represent various forms of labor-intensive if not outright servile endeavor. Listening to several of the conversations taking place at other tables, Adlar heard more than one person complaining about the heat. He found the warm temperatures here rather comfortable, given the similarity to the climate on his home planet.
    The various, competing odors of fried, boiled, and grilled foodstuffs filled the air inside the diner. It had taken some time for him and his companions to acclimate themselves tothe numerous forms of human sustenance. Even now, three years after their arrival, Adlar and the others still relied upon the nutritional supplements that were part of the equipment and supplies brought with them to Earth. Still, Adlar had acquired a taste for a broad spectrum of Earth-centric cuisines. Careful scans of some of the meals he had prepared using native ingredients had yielded an interesting, often humorous and sometimes frightening array of information regarding the different foods’ dietary usefulness. To his occasional amusement, Adlar was forced to admit to the odd contrast between a particular item’s taste and its worth with respect to his health. One food in particular, bacon, had become a personal indulgence during his time on Earth, yet appeared to contain no discernible nutritional value.
    As his waitress—a middle-aged, bored-looking female with the name “Maxine” stitched on her blue shirt—delivered a plate containing eggs, toast, and bacon, Adlar’s attention was drawn to the diner’s front door. He looked over to see his companion, Gejalik, entering the diner. Like him, and thanks to her own mobile camouflage emitter, she was able to effect an outward human appearance. In keeping with her current cover identity, Gejalik presented herself as a human female. Her long brunette hair was pulled back and secured in a ponytail, and she wore a conservative gray skirt and white silk blouse. The heels of her shoes clicked on the diner’s tile floor as she approached, before she slid into the booth to sit across from him.
    “You’re late,” Adlar said by way of greeting, the subcutaneous translator inserted beneath the skin of his throat rendering his speech in flawless human English.
    Gejalik nodded. “I know. I wasn’t able to leave the office until the colonel returned from his staff briefing.