W. A. Harbinson - Projekt Saucer Book 02 - Phoenix.pdf - W. A. Harbinson - widez2

FOREWORD

THE ULTIMATE CONSPIRACY CONTINUES…

W.A.Harbinson first exposed the nightmarish truth about UFOs – a truth so terrifying

that it could only be presented as fiction – in his international bestseller Genesis .

Now he has taken the themes and many of the characters from that groundbreaking

work and developed them into further dimensions of cosmic horror with other

astounding novels in the PROJEKT SAUCER series. Phoenix , the second self-

contained Projekt Saucer epic, takes the story on from the end of the Second World

War and through the postwar years of humankind’s first tentative explorations of

space. During this historic period, the sinister Earthly forces behind the UFO

conspiracy begin to show their hand more openly –and start to exert a deadly

stranglehold on the destiny of the whole Earth…

PHOENIX : THE SECOND BOOK OF THE EPIC PROJEKT SAUCER SERIES.

W.A.Harbinson was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in 1941. He left school at

fourteen, studied mechanical engineering, then joined the Royal Australian Air Force.

While serving in the RAAF he drafted his first novel, Instruments of Death . In 1980

he completed Genesis , the epic, bestseller novel that became the inspiration for the

Projekt Saucer series. ( Phoenix is chronologically the second novel in the series.)

Harbinson has also written short stories, radio plays and non-fiction books. He

presently divides his time between Paris, France, and West Cork, Ireland.

Also by W.A.Harbinson

Novels

Projekt Saucer, Book 1: Inception

Projekt Saucer, Book 2: Phoenix

Projekt Saucer, Book 3: Genesis

Projekt Saucer, Book 4: Millennium

Projekt Saucer, Book 5: Resurrection

Revelation

Otherworld

Eden

The Lodestone

Dream Maker

The Crystal Skulls

Non-fiction

Projekt UFO: The Case for Man-Made Flying Saucers

PART ONE

Chapter One

SOCORRO, NEW MEXICO

JULY 2, 1947

When that thing flew overhead Marlon Clarke could hardly believe what he was

seeing. As he had been doing too often lately, he was sitting out on his porch, in his

old rocking chair, slugging beer from the bottle, muttering under his breath and

gazing out over the parched lands of his failed farm, flat and eerily desolate in

moonlight. He was just a small farmer who’d had a bad few years and he liked to sit

out there in the evenings, feeling bitter and murmuring angry words to himself,

getting drunk enough to sleep without too much anxiety. Tired and thinking of bed,

he had just glanced at his watch and noticed that it was ten-thirty when the whole

porch shook a little, his last bottle of beer fell over, and he heard an exploding noise

right overhead.

Shocked back to the real world, his heart racing too fast, he looked up to see a

glowing, saucer-shaped object screeching, wobbling, spinning and pouring steam or

smoke as it flew at tremendous speed across the night sky on a descending trajectory.

Before Marlon had a chance to get a grip on himself, the glowing object fell

towards the Plain of San Augustin, between Magdalena and Socorro, about five miles

from his farm, then turned into a growing fan of white and red flames in a billowing

cloud of dust. The explosion came a second later, as the fan of flames grew bigger,

illuminating the rising cloud of dust and obliterating the stars.

The blast rocked Marlon’s house.

Startled into a state of near sobriety, he got out of his rocking chair as the fan of

flame shrank back to a tiny flickering that soon disappeared, letting the star-studded

night sky return.

‘Kee-rist!’ Marlon exclaimed softly. Instantly, on an impulse, both fearful and

curious, he grabbed a bottle of whisky from the floor of the porch, hurried down the

steps, clambered unsteadily into his battered old truck, and tore off towards the scene

of the crash.

As he drove across the moonlit plain, through pale moonlight and the shadows of

cacti and sagebrush, he controlled the steering wheel with one hand, held the bottle in

the other, drank too quickly and felt his heart racing. It was the whisky, he guessed,

but it was also what he had seen: that glowing, saucer-shaped flying object of the

kind he'd heard so much about lately.

‘Jesus!’ he whispered to himself as the old, battered truck growled and rattled

across the flat, windblown plain. ‘Jesus H... I don’t believe...’

He kept glancing outside the truck, growing more apprehensive, half expecting to

see another of those objects gliding under the moonlight. He even thought of turning

back, but his curiosity kept him going, and he convinced himself, even as his fear was

growing, that it had just been an airplane.

He was wrong.

On the broad, flat plain near the town of Magdalena, about halfway between the

road and the distant Black Mountain, he saw a dark pile of still smouldering debris.

Driving off the road, he bounced over the rough, sage-strewn plain until he came to

the location of the crash. Stopping the truck, he had another drink of whisky, wiped

his lips with the back of his hand, then looked out at the smouldering debris.

It was the wreckage of a large, saucer-shaped craft, about half of it smashed to hell,

the remainder a dull grey in the moonlight.

What looked like three scorched corpses were still strapped into the central cockpit

of the crashed object.

‘Lord Almighty!’ Marlon exclaimed softly.

He was too scared to get out, but he had a good look, making sure that his eyes

were not deceiving him. The object was round all right, shaped like two plates, one

inverted and placed on top of the other. It was about twenty-five to thirty feet in

diameter, obviously made of a metallic substance, and had smooth sides that rose

gracefully, seamlessly to a smashed-up, transparent, domed cockpit. The charred

bodies were still strapped to their seats.

That's when Marlon grew really scared. Blinking, rubbing his eyes, he looked out

again.

The three corpses were burned beyond recognition. They were wearing grey-

coloured one-piece suits, or coveralls, which were charred black, in tatters and still

smouldering like the pieces of metal scattered widely around the broken, circular

craft.

Nauseated by the smell of roasted flesh, Marlon looked beyond the crashed object

to the distant mountain range. It was black in the night, but covered with stars, its

sides streaked with moonlight that also fell across the flat Plain of Magdalena. Marlon

looked around him, expecting to see something else, but there was nothing out there

but empty land and the wind's constant whispering.

Taking a final look at the charred bodies in the crashed flying saucer, he shivered

with revulsion and fear, then turned the truck around and burned back to his ranch.

When the men from the Roswell Army Air Base came to see him, Marlon was

surprised by how many there were. They arrived in a jeep and troop truck as the sun

was rising over the horizon to flood the flat plain with light. Marlon was still sitting in

his rocking chair, more drunk than ever, when the armed troops jumped out of the

truck to form a semi-circle around the yard, some with their backs turned to the

house, others facing the empty plain, all holding their weapons at the ready.

W. A. Harbinson - Projekt Saucer Book 02 - Phoenix.pdf

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