ARCANA Chapter 13 by William James Johnson

"Mr Thorpe, was the airship being tracked on radar when it disappeared?"

"Constantly. Airship Nobile was in unbroken contact until it suddenly vanished from our screens."

Weeks of searching the barrens of the high Arctic revealed no clues to the missing airship. Fearful it may have come to the same tragic end as the ill fated "Italia", Gerald Thorpe reluctantly agreed to a press conference. Crowded around the bank of microphones set up in the Rose Garden against a background of the White House, reporters listened to his brief preamble and then began firing questions.

"Sir, do you think the ship crashed somewhere in the Arctic?"

"After thousands of man hours of searching, we have not been able to locate any evidence of a crash. You must understand that the barren land makes it somewhat easier to find a downed craft the size of Airship Nobile. I can assure you, we have done everything that we could, but there is not a trace to be found."

"Have you consulted with the Russians? Could it be that the craft got into Russian territory, and the communists forced it down?"

"You all know there were two Russian scientists on the Nobile, Dr. Nicholas Moysev, and his assistant, Professor Helga Korb. Our friends in the USSR have put in more time on this search than we have, and they have had no more success than our search teams."

"Can we believe them, Mr. Thorpe?"

"I have no doubt they're telling the truth. Ever since the depression in Europe and China, our former enemies have become our friends. It was unfortunate it took a nuclear holocaust in the Middle East to make the world realize once and for all that planet earth is a space ship in the universe and what happens to one country happens to all. I have no doubt the USSR is telling us the truth."

"Suppose they aren't, and that they have captured the crew of the Nobile and it turns out there really is a hole in the Arctic that leads to another world and they want to keep this information for themselves. Have you given that any thought?"

"Yes, I have. But as far as I'm concerned, that kind of hypothesis should be best left to science fiction writers. What would the USSR have to gain by withholding such information?"

He had intended this to be a simple rhetorical question and became annoyed when a reporter began to theorize further.

"They could get back into the power race. Who knows. Maybe the creatures inside the earth would give them secrets which would permit them to hold the rest of the world as hostages."

"Gentlemen, this briefing is now over. I came here to tell the world that the brave crew of the Nobile are lost. After weeks of intensive searching, we're now going to discontinue our efforts. Unfortunately you want to make something more political out of this, but I will not participate in your wild speculations. I wish to personally assure our friends in the USSR that we are saddened by the loss of their courageous scientists and I also wish to apologize for the lack of tact expressed by some of you reporters today. We in the west want a peaceful world. You don't get such a world without mutual trust. Thank you for this opportunity to bring our people up to date on the fate of the Nobile."

As Thorpe walked towards the side entrance of the White House, he was met by his attractive wife, Kathryn, who took his hand. Thorpe relished this chief executive role he had taken on since the mysterious kidnapping of his leader. Although not an elected official, he had been the President's White House Chief, and he was grabbing as much attention and power as possible. Many in the government resented what he was doing, but no one understood the inner workings of the Modifier Party better than Thorpe. He had been at Koster's side from the beginning. Despite their resentment they had to let him continue as their chief spokesman.

Numerous telegrams of sympathy from nations all over the world poured into Washington when the news of the US decision to end the search broke on the International News Satellite. Premier Stakanov of the USSR called Thorpe on the red phone and expressed his personal appreciation for his friendly words of peace given at the news conference.

Thorpe was convinced that when free elections returned to America, he would have no difficulty becoming the next president of the world's mightiest power. Three weeks after this historical announcement, in the early hours of the morning, Thorpe was awakened by an aide with an anxious request that he accompany him to the War Room. Pulling a robe over his pajamas, he rushed to the large planning room which housed the inputs from satellite listening stations all over the world.

"It came in about fifteen minutes ago, sir, at about eighty seven degrees north. The low frequency analyser identifies it as a target with characteristics similar to the Airship Nobile."

"Have you made audio contact with the target?"

"Not yet, sir. We have challenged it with all the existing codes assigned to the crew when they left for their mission, but as yet the target has not responded."

"Can it be a missile launched from the Urals?"

"Negative, sir. It's moving too slowly. It really does seem to be the Nobile."

Thorpe was elated with the possibility that the crew had penetrated the earth and was now returning. Happy as he was at being a part of this fantastic mission, he was disappointed that the crew could be bringing back President Koster. This would end his rule in the White House.

"Keep trying to make contact. I'm going back to my room to dress. Give me about twenty minutes. If anything happens, call me immediately...and remember, not a word about this to anyone."

Kathryn was sitting on the edge of her bed as her husband entered the room. "What is it Gerald? What's happening?"

"Damned if I know. At first I thought maybe Stakanov had made his move."

"I don't understand."

"The plotters in the War Room have picked up an unidentified object coming out of the north."

"What has that got to do with Stakanov?"

"It's just like him to try to hit us when our guard is down."

"But you told the world we have to trust each other. Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, that's what I said. You ought to know by now that what I say and what I believe are not necessarily the same thing."

For once he was being honest with her. She had learned to live their life of duplicity and had become skilled in covering up for her husband. "And you really believe the Russians have launched an attack?"

"If it is, it's coming by bow and arrow."

"What do you mean?"

"The target is moving very slowly...more like an airship, than an aircraft."

"The Nobile?"

"Could be. Only time will tell."

"After all that searching...how can it be?"

"Must have been inside the earth. I can't see any other explanation for it."

"Then this could mean Koster is with them too."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing telephone beside Thorpe's bed.

"Thorpe."

"Sir, we have made contact with Airship Nobile."

The words gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Good. I'll be there right away."

It took the Monad crew four days to complete their journey from the Domain in the Arctic. Little did the anxious Americans realize that the crew of the returning airship were the result of electronic cloning in the inner earth. The duplicating of the former crew of Airship Nobile had been complete in every detail, even to the reproduction of their memories and the raunchy instincts of the buoyant pilot of the craft, Captain John Robins.

The slender pylon which had been constructed at Andrew's Air Force Base for the mooring of the giant dirigible was finally going to be used. It had been more than nine weeks since the launching of the airship at Pozzuoli, and now the cameras of the world pointed skyward as the slender silver craft appeared on the horizon coming out of an autumn Canadian sky. It gave the throng of spectators, both in the official party and tightly packed outside the fence, the same exhilarating feeling they experienced when the space shuttle made its first return to earth back in the eighties.

The Monad Commander, Carlo Nobile, assisted by Monad, John Robins, moved the huge craft gently towards the tip of the pylon where tentacles constructed into the end of the narrow structure grasped the nose of the ship and anchored it securely. Beside the metal mast was a large extendable crane with a crew basket attached to it. Slowly the crane operator raised the extending arm of the device towards the crew pod underneath the airship.

As the door of the crew compartment opened, the crowds roared excitedly as they saw Carlo standing resplendent in his navy blue flight suit. Only Thorpe and the communications men in the War Room knew that President Koster was not on board. The public had been told that no information about the mission would be given until the crew had been thoroughly debriefed. The anxious spectators watched eagerly as each crew member entered the crane basket for their descent to earth. They counted carefully in the hope that David Koster would be the eleventh member. But when the crane moved slowly to the ground with only nine members, the press and dignitaries debated about who must be missing.

The Marine band struck up "Hail to the Chief", and Thorpe and his wife moved forward to welcome home the courageous crew. Flashbulbs burst, and the cheering throng surrounding the fence pushed forward trying to get a glimpse of the historic team.
Carlo saluted the American and extended his hand grasping his damp palm. Thorpe's smile was betrayed by a slight twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Welcome home, Commander. You have no idea what a great relief it is to have all of you back with us."

"Thank you, Mr. Thorpe. We're delighted to be back."

John stepped forward and grabbed Thorpe's hand.

"We owe our lives to that young man over there." He pointed to the smiling Eskimo youth, Tuma Tittigapu.

"Your selection of him as a crew member was brilliant."

Thorpe was devouring this adulation which was being seen throughout the world. He went directly to young Tuma and hugged him warmly.

"Thank you, Tuma, for getting them back to us."

Kathryn Thorpe, not to be outdone by her husband, kissed the young man on the cheek, and the shy native pulled away from her embrace.

The returning party were led to a line of black official sedans which took them to the helicopter pad at the other end of the aerodrome. Airlifted above Andrew's, they were shuttled to the rear of the White House, where they landed on the helipad used by the President on his many sojourns to Camp David.

Another photo opportunity was pursued by anxious photographers who wanted to be the one whose picture would be seen all over the world. Patiently the crew gave them a chance to take individual pictures and group shots. Thorpe decided when there had been enough and waved them off. The Nobile crew was guided to the side door of the White House, and they entered a small corridor with a moveable panel at the end. It opened to an elevator which carried them to the War Room beneath the President's residence. It was here their debriefing began.

"I for one want to find out what happened to Dr. Armstrong," stated Thorpe.

"I'll explain in a moment about Henley. First let me tell you what happened to our ship," said John.

"When we struck the pack ice, we got lodged in between two massive sheets which concealed our ship. We even heard the aircraft that were searching for us, but apparently our signals were not being received."

"It's true", said Carlo. "We tried continuously to make contact but nothing was heard. It must've been the shielding effect of the ice."

"How did it happen? What made your ship come down?"

"Let me explain", said Moysev. "In all my studies about the magnetic field, I never expected the polarity would reverse itself at its source. Apparently the charge I put on the ship to prevent our dematerialization in the zero magnetic area caused a massive attraction charge from earth, and our ship fell like an elevator with a broken cable."

"We became firmly wedged between the giant icebergs. That must have been the reason you couldn't see us on your search radar," explained John.

"We were there for days, and our food supply was exhausted. Tuma caught seals and prepared them for us. We really thought we were going to be there forever," said Sandra.

"That's when Henley said he was going to try to walk out of the Arctic and get us help," she continued.

"Why did you let him go?" asked Thorpe.

"I didn't," said Carlo, knowing full well that they all remembered what happened to the crew members of his grandfather's doomed "Italia".

"He's telling the truth, Gerald. Henley left on his own without telling anyone."

"You should've gone after him."

"It was not as easy as that. One hour on foot in any direction and you were lost forever."

"Forget about Henley for now. How did you finally get out of there?"

"Tuma suggested we release some of the gas in the airship chambers which were wedged between the ice and his idea worked. It took several days to reduce the pressure enough to free the sides, and then we had to dump much of our computer gear to make the ship light enough to rise again. But as you can see, we made it."

"And the opening...what about the opening?"

"Sorry, Gerald. No such thing."

"Did you get far enough north to be certain?"

"We sure did...but believe me those photos from our satellites are the real thing. All that white in the Arctic is ice and snow, not light like Arnhem told us."

"Then what do you think happened to President Koster?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"But he was taken by a UFO. That's on the record."

"Sorry, Gerald. I wish we could've found an opening. I really do. The world could use a shot in the arm."

Thorpe recoiled at John's choice of words. He knew many of his countrymen were hooked on narcotics as their only relief from the misery brought on by his totalitarian party.

"No one can say that you didn't give it a gallant try. We all owe you a tremendous debt of gratitude. I'm awfully sorry to hear about poor Henley, though."

The Monad crew were relieved that their contrived story of Henley's loss and the disappearance of the airship had been accepted so easily. They had served IAM well. Man would no longer look to the north as the source of a mythical Paradise on earth. Life in the Domain would continue undisturbed.

Several weeks passed before the cloned crew members returned to their homes. News interviews, panel shows, and even talk of a feature film occupied them endlessly. Eventually Nicholas Moysev and Helga Korb were given a grand reception in Moscow. Dr. Liu Chow stayed on in the United States to continue working on his new concept for retrieving energy released from the use of the SIC. He had Moysev's assurance that in the future they would resume working together on this project.

Tuma Tittigapu returned to Baker Lake and married his childhood sweetheart Meelanie. His best man at the wedding, which took place in a small mission chapel, was Michael Easton who was going to stay in the north and continue his research on flora and fauna. André Goulet was to rejoin his two friends in this northern clime after returning to France, where he was given the Legion of Honour.

Carlo Nobile became a folk hero back in Pozzuoli and the memory of his tragic grandfather was soon forgotten because of the heroic mission completed by this young Italian. Soon after his return, the tabloids began rumours that Carlo and Helga were to be wed. An Italian film producer delayed the wedding by taking Carlo to Australia where he was given the lead in a feature film about a romantic loner who discovers an ancient civilization in the harsh Australian outback.

The true love story to conclude this record was between John Robins and Sandra Wright. The only two members of the crew who knew the true cause of Henley's death were bound together for life by this incredible secret. Sandra got what she wanted out of her career when she became a photo journalist for ISN, and John returned to flying dirigibles over NFL football games and other sport spectaculars. He divorced his wife Carol, but he and Sandra never married. They both felt marriage got in the way of love and they didn't want to risk a good thing.

It must be remembered that these were the ongoing lives of the Monad duplicates of the crew of the Nobile.

The real crew was still trapped in the Domain of IAM.

Please comment on your reaction to my book. Sincerely, William James Johnson