Project GALATINE (Version 3)

PROJECT GALATINE was a secret program within the NSA. And, within that secret, there was another secret: GALATINE was a fraud . . . or at least it was supposed to be.

GALATINE in its embryonic stage was "foisted" off on the NSA by the FBI. The FBI had collected a lot of "magic girl" reports, some of them linked with suspicious deaths or disappearances. They seemed like a lot of B.S., and a career-sinker for anyone who handled the stuff. The FBI "convinced" some people in the NSA that this was a national security issue, because strange technology might be involved.

GALATINE, named after the sword King Arthur drew from the stone, was supposed to be about identifying and recovering this technology, if it actually existed. Dr. Walford of the NSA coined a word for it: "crypto-technology." Walter Rostov, then a rising star in the National Security Agency, supported Dr. Walford, explaining while he didn't believe the stories verbatim, they could be covering something. And, after all, there were a lot of Soviet secret programs that seemed to have just disappeared with the breakup of the Soviet Union. There was bound to be some real crypto-technology, and these cases might involve it, at least some of them.

Gradually, Rostov moved to a new view: There was some organization, or perhaps even an individual, who was using this technology for his own ends. The "magic girls" and "angels" sometimes associated with incidents were diversions--perhaps even illusions. The Michigan incident seemed to confirm this.

In reality, Rostov and a few others were turning GALATINE into their own little, well-funded empire. It was quite easy to skim off some of the appropriations.

A little over two years before, things had changed. An incident in Oakland, California had been televised live, nationally, and recorded from multiple viewpoints. It appeared there actually were "angels"--deadly ones.

A nightmare had followed for Rostov and his fellow conspirators: the President had ordered disclosure, for questionable political reasons. But Rostov and his people were able to withhold the most critical evidence, even from--or perhaps especially from--the President. In fact, mastering the new data and presenting parts of it properly, Rostov recast the GALATINE program into a desperately important attempt to find the source of these dangerous cyborgs or biological constructs, all the while keeping America from becoming unduly alarmed. So successful was he that when the latest President took office, Rostov became the head of the NSA.

And all without disclosing that he actually knew who the angels were, or at least some of them . . .

Rostov and Walford had organized GALATINE so that only they, with David Brunn, the specialist in fund diversion, knew what was really going on. They did not meet often, at least alone. This meeting was in an anonymous hotel room.

"What's on your minds, Walter, David?" asked Dr. Walford as soon as he saw Brunn was also present.

Brunn produced a newspaper clipping, with some highlighted text. Walford scanned it, and said, "Hmmm. Crawford again. I don't think it amounts to much, though. There have been rumors about Michigan for years now."

"This could be a bigger problem," said Rostov. "He had a source within the agency."

"Yes, a Mr.--Walter, did you say he had a source?" said Brunn.

"Past tense," said Rostov. "I've already had that leak plugged. Dave, you will arrange an honorarium for Mr. S. and Mr. J? The usual fee."

Brunn shuddered. "Yes, of course . . . but you should have consulted me."

"If I had waited, who knows what else he would have leaked? And to whom?" Rostov pointed to the clipping. "My guess is that Crawford knows more than he's willing to print right now."

"About us?" quailed Brunn.

"No, if he sniffed anything about our irregular activities, I'm sure he would have written something about it by now. Jack Crawford has never been shy about printing rumors, if they support his cause. No, that is something we don't have to worry about yet."

"I think you are right," said Brunn, relieved. "He has never been good at following money."

"What do you see as the problem with Crawford, then?" asked Dr. Walford.

"I think he may be getting close to identifying the angels," answered Rostov. "Remember, he's not only a reporter, he witnessed the Lake Merritt incident."

"But that was over two years ago. Why wouldn't he have published by now?"

Rostov shrugged. "He's a reporter and a writer. Perhaps he wants to do an authorized work on them. Or some other nonsense." He pointed out the clipping again. "But even if he doesn't figure it out, someone else will. Another reporter, a police detective--very possibly the FBI. I think they may have identified our men there."

"I always like to hear good news," smirked Walford. "Let me guess your point: We won't be able to keep the angels under wraps much longer."

"No, not with the measures we are taking now."

Brunn sighed. "If we have to get away soon, why did you have Mr. Galway terminated? That sort of thing could lead to exactly the sort of investigation we don't want now."

"It was handled well. Mr. S. and Mr J. did not leave a mess," said Rostov. "Besides, I don't believe we should get out."

"I'm afraid I agree with David this once," said Dr. Walford. "Much as I hate to walk away from my work, it seems the prudent thing to do. Once the angels are discovered, there will be questions about GALATINE. I think the most intelligent move would be to disappear ourselves before the story breaks."

Rostov tilted his head ever-so-slightly. "That is an important consideration. But not the most important one."

"And what would be more important to us?" asked Brunn.

"The most important consideration is how the angels will deal with us. We may be able to flee from extradition, but we assuredly will not be able to flee them, if they come after us."

Walford began tapping the table with one finger, a rare sign of nervousness. "Yes . . . I am afraid Walter is right about that, David. The subjects have demonstrated an uncanny ability to seek out their targets . . . You are suggesting eliminating them?"

"Yes."

Brunn winced. "These creatures are very powerful. Sykes and Jensen couldn't even handle them. Look at Lake Merritt."

"They are not invulnerable," said Rostov.

"True," said Walford. "One was wounded at Lake Merritt. But not in her metamorphized state, I think. Perhaps we could pick off several, but the others would be alerted. We cannot be sure we have identified them all."

"Even if you could get them all together," added Brunn, "You'd need a fucking army to take them out. Or a nuke."

"We will have both, if needs be," said Rostov. "But first we are going to do some preliminary work. Dr. Walford, do you have the weapon ready for deployment?"

"Yes, I do have a working prototype. But not much of a fire control system. It won't work against these creatures in flight."

"It won't have to. Brunn, I will need a woman. She can be a hooker, but she also needs to be able to act. And she also has to be frangible--we can't afford to be sentimental with this."

Brunn smiled, for the first time. "I think I know what you have in mind. If we can pull it off, we won't have to hunt them down."

Walford saw more. "I think I know what you are thinking, David. But Walter is thinking of a longer game, is he not?"

Rostov shrugged. "Maybe the whole prize, if our luck is exceptional. But we will neutralize our special problem, at the very least." Rostov held up one finger, a gesture he used to introduce a new point. "There are some other things we can do. I will need to hire some temporaries, so I will need you for a little longer, David, to arrange the funding. But I don't see why you have to stay, Doctor."

"If you don't mind, I would like to hear about those 'other things' before I go."

Rostov shrugged. No one here was under the illusion that they were bound by friendship, or that any one of them would not betray the others, if that seemed in his best interests.

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