Weather Underground Chronicles

Of Spooks & the Press

That's all the Naranjas papers. But there's more to it yet, I'm afraid.

My department was set onto Naranjas after he had contacted several researchers and professors around the country, a few of whom happened to be doing very classified research. Apparently Naranjas was trying to interest them in the things he has written about.

Of course, most of them threw him out as being a nut, but they let us know about everyone who talks to them, and after the 3rd person in Operation Afterglow noted his showing up, we got a little suspicious. So we started the investigation. Here's what we have so far.

1. David Fnord Naranjas, DOB 11/13/55 born in the Ft. Bliss (El Paso, Tx) base hospital. Father unknown (mother raped by man with "Southern-sounding accent"). Mother, Major Anne (Annie) Gertrude Smythe: DOB 11/19/39, born near Andersonville, SC (county records lost in fire 3/12/84, but service records available) to 3rd- generation Irish farmer and very distant descendant of Harriet Beecher Stowe. Mostly a loner all the way through public school. High-B student. Favorite subjects included science, geography & history. Final high school was North Macon (grad. 1974) in Macon, GA. Attended Georgia Institute of Technology 73-75, 77, 79, 81. Dropped out 1 elective short of graduating with a BEEE with a minor in CS. Self-employed until midsummer 88, at which time he disappeared. Evidence indicates the above manuscript covers the time period from shortly after that until about 1 moth ago. No known friends. List of contractees attached. No contact with mother during previous 7 months (Maj. Smythe currently involved with Project Fizzies, and is incommunicado until El Paso declared open again),
2. Naranjas claims to have found several large oil deposits in various undersea locations. Staff geologists have studied the known data for these locales and dismissed the possibility for various reasons (see attached report SSC-GGO-33127-A). Naranjas left samples reportedly from said locations with two of the researchers he visisted (Higgins @ Afterglow Station 3 and G. Smurtzl @ Afterglow Station 7). Both researchers threw him out. Subsequent sample studies indicate that Naranjas either told the truth or is capable of forging geologic evidence that we can't yet forge. SovU Division investiating their capabilities re said forgery capabilities.
3. Naranjas produced hitherto unknown fossils, assumed at the time to be fakes, for three varieties of sea-life, one homonid, two canines, one avian, and four felines. All are in excellent shape, and have since been pronounced authentic. All evidence is currently under wraps, and individuals involved all have security clearance for related projects. Somehow the UCB student paper has got hold of this; we currently have them tied up in court, and have estab- lished RTC surveillance. The really spooky part is that Naranjas claims all these fossils were within 30 square meters of each other at the same depth under the sea floor. Sverin in Paleo swears this is impossible. Kulta (Paleo) claims it supports the flood theory. Either way, it's big. But of course, at this point nobody knows where he got the fossils. Report SSC-PEO-1491 is attached, and describes the fossils fully with several expert opinions.
4. Meredith @ Afterglow Station 6 claims Naranjas showed him a relic he claimed to have obtained from an alien spaceship deep beneath the site of the Tsukunga Meteorite. Meredith of course threw him out. Naranjas was observed by at least 7 individuals, apparently previously unknown to each other, to have left the building by "moving vertically at a high rate of speed" with no visible means of support. Three of the observers claim to have seen him "disintegrate" a vulture on the way up. All witnesses have passed scrupulous background and pysch tests as of this morning, and no discrepancies or anomolies have been found, other than Naranjas' reported behavior. See attached report SDA-ZQX-1492.33.Y for sworn statements and test results. Naranjas claimed that human- decipherable data aboard the craft indicate that the aliens left the ship alive and had somehow mereged into society undetected, circa 1912 A.D.
5. A verified claim! Naranjas' description of the strange cables under the Texas/Mexico desert led an Afterglow TechSWAT team to the source of recent, and til then unexplained, disruptions in the expected temperature and wave data in the Gulf of Mexico. We lost three divers and a Bord-class sub, but we have samples of massive (apparent) heat sinks from the Gulf floor. First indications are that they are some form of "biologically active, metal-based, large-molecule polymer-like distant relative of the amino acids" (Quartzman, attached report SSC-BMG-7791.A3, Biometalurgy Research Lab). I'm not sure what that means, and I'm not sure I'ld really understand. According to the experts and the computers, only Reimann from UTEP could have done it; current thinking is that he may be somehow involved with El Paso's salvation. All Afterglow personnel, 7N and up, have been apprised of the situation. Some bozo leaked to Senator Poseur, and old SmurfBrains has got a committee all set up to investigate and look for who to blame for the whole situation. In my opinion, if Reimann has managed to spare most of the El Paso area, he ought to be a national hero. Recommend you have DISINF look into Poseur's 1978 tour of US military bases in Europe. One of my sources says we can crucify him with the data we should be able to get from the locals. But I really wish I understood what Dr. Reimann was up to.
6. Naranjas was last seen at a small diner near the GIT campus in Atlanta, where he ate lunch with a local columnist (Louis Gizzard) who admits hearing Naranjas out and then laughing himself silly. Gizzard is your basic wise-guy columnist, and I'm not sure why Naranjas approached him other than name recognition. Might as well try to get the nation to take you seriously by talking to Dave Barry or Jay Leno. After the meal, when Gizzard laughed him from the diner, Naranjas paid his tab and walked to the sidewalk, where in full view of at least 30 people, he proceeded to sink into the sidewalk. The owner (Timmy Clemens) of the diner (Junoirs Cuisine) gave us the names of all the witnesses, all students who eat regularly there. (If you end up checking things out there yourself, go with the "top two 10, cheese it" - best deal round). The only student we found who overheard any of the conversation was maxed out on LSD at the time, so discrediting him was no problem. He claimed Naranjas was a narc trying to turn him into a cornflower. We convinced him we would help Naranjas do it if he talked. (Attached reports SSC-WNS-3.14159-X, SSC-INC-3.14159-X, and DDC-DIS-377-A3A detail the witnesses' statements, police reports, and investigation summary.)

Major Henry Jones III
Special Investigative Unit 3C
NORAD Intelligence
AUC-ZAPF-33108A-J
891106-230110

DISPATCH LIST
General Joseph J Auckland, Pentagon A-111
Stephen Lucas, Asst. Dep. Director, FBI HQ
George Spielberg, Special Presidential Counsel
Agent Orange, CIA NorOps

Moonshine, Pot and Hobgoblins
Bring Big Brother to our Doorstep

                -Louis Gizzard

(Atl) Well, like my Aunt Tessie (Fireball)
Jones used to say, it never rains but it
pours. The other day, while covering an
alledged athletic event at the North Ave
Trade School (you know, home of the Bees),
where the world-famous Bulldogs were
soundly trouncing the home boys at bulltossing,
I was caught by a rainstorm at lunchtime,
and dodged into a nearby grill.

While they didn't have catfish, chitlins,
or PBR in longneck bottles, this place was
just about good enough to be serving over
in Athens. Anyway, while there I was accosted
by somebody I assumed to be your typical
NATS geek. He claimed to be living under
ground. Not IN Underground, mind you, and
not in a cave, or a sewer, or mine shaft,
or any type of hole-just under ground.

"You know, down in the dirt, with the worms
and red clay and bedrock, and roots an all."

When I allowed as how I didn't really know,
he offered to take me. Now, I wasn't born
yesterday, and figured he was up to some-
thing, and besides, I had to get my story
in for the night, and it was still raining.
Like my 13th wife, Mary Janet Sue used to
say, I may not be playing with a full deck,
but I'm not playing with a deck full of Jokers,
either.

Anyway, this whole discussion culminated with
my new companion cleaning the grits off my
plate like some lowdown skunk, and proceeding
to sink into the sidewalk outside the diner.
Yup, read it again. I've got witnesses. And
just this once, I'm glad I didn't have my
usual six-pack lunch, because those officers
didn't believe a word of it. There were three
wrecks as people driving by stared at this
fellow and lost control of their car. Can't
say as I blame them, either.

Anyway, it was all like a bad dream. And I
was trying to treat it like one and forget
it, especially the number of folks from
Washington, DC, who were interested. And I
nearly succeeded until last night. Any of you
that read the paper or watch the news saw
where those people up in Rabun County said
their daughter met a man from inside the
earth, and how she disappeared, months ago.
Well, now several folks have seen her, a
stranger, and twin babies, walking around
at odd times of night. Things have been dis-
appearing, like food and baby bottles. And
when these folks are approached, they
somehow manage to disappear, even when
cornered. Her momma claims to have talked
with her, but won't say any more than that.

At first, the Feds came in, and closed down
a few stills, busted a few pot growers, and
stuff like that. When they figured out it
wasn't just crazy people, or rumors to keep
nosy neighbors away, some other people came
in to look around. Some of them I recognized,
and kept away from. Yep, those same tough
boys that came around when I met old Geek.

But the family involved just up and moved
out one night, without saying goodbye to
any of their longtime neighbors, or kin,
or anybody. Nobdoy understands it, least of
all me. The disappearing daughter was my
favorite cousin, Sandra Daisy Jane Gizzard.
My Uncle Jake (Bubba) never even went to
the next county without mentioning it to
the neighbors, Hiram & Bessie. Seems like
a clear case of Uncle Sam spiriting away
honest citizens with no accountability.

Look, I met this guy they think caused this.
He's no Soviet Spy, or Martian threat. He's
just another NUT. And now I don't know
where Daisy Jane is, or Uncle Jake, or even
his coon dog, Ralph. Are they going to test
Ralph's nostril linings for scent clues?
Write your congresspeople. Demand that the
USA not spirit away Uncle Jake for no reason.

And if some fella sticks his head up out
of the tater patch, don't shoot. Like it
or not, he could be the daddy of my nephews.
But grab his ear, call me, and hold on.
He owes me some grits and a cousin.

And meantime, I just can't get as worked up
about the new Underground Atlanta as I was
before.

Last updated: 7 May 1994

Copyright 1989, 1994 Miles O'Neal, Austin, TX. All rights reserved.

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