The experience of working at Antigravity United, I said it is the real story

Never heard of AU.

24 hours passed.

It worked. Not only did it work, it worked, it worked better than expected.

Kelly pushed her hand through the field. "yes, I can feel something."

"Try right here . . ." I said, "look for a cool feeling."

Kelly said: "I am feeling it."

We were eating this up like Thai noodles with peanut butter.

I called up Alexander. "It worked," I said. He's our supposed president.

"He also measured a 12% decrease in weight" I said.

"Call up this Brian, please. We need to hire him. The problem is; he works for GE. Can you work out something?"

"No problem," said Alexander. He's a "no problem" kind of guy. He gets things done.

"Also" I said "we need a large empty plant for engineering offices and manufacturing. Can you obtain something very large and cheap?

He contacted our money man, also a talented pizza maker, arrangements happened.

"Brian," I said, "we need to put this into a cast aluminum/zinc box, and make it RFI tight."

"We need to see at what frequency this box gets to minimum weight . . ."

I waited as he hooked up a digital HP scope, to measure the frequency.

Not revealing trade secrets.

Next day . . .

Brian and a tiny sparklingly pretty red haired woman who just showed up, saying "I like to collect data" went through the frequency range and measured the weight.

About 17,000 Hz was the conclusion.

Brian said, "I want to try something."

He had two 9 volt batteries in the box and a reservoir cap. The lid was off. He pulled the first battery out, which disconnected both batteries from the power circuit.

The box emitted a sound a like a "yeow" and then it continued to run at a slightly different, actually higher, frequency.

Brian said: "I tried this last night. I had no way to turn off the circuit, so I pulled the battery, and it did this. . . and it continued to run. Power is still coming in from somewhere."

"It's gravitational flux carrying the power in from all points of galactic and probably intergalactic space. We aren't violating conservation of energy laws." I said.

I told our president Alexander, and he came that night and took the box home. He played with it all night. It was still running.

I called him. "Put it on your head," I said. "What do you feel," I said.

"I feel funny" he said.

"Well you look funny." I said.

I was giggling. He was completely serious.

"Now put it on your solar plexis. Feel anything?"

I heard a "bang."

"What was that?" I said. I was very nervous. I always assume somebody is trying to kill us because of this damned little box.

"Damn it. I dropped it," said Alexander.

"Is it OK?"

He said, "I am embarrassed."

...

can you explian the device and how it resonates pls

He was constantly saying, "You are embarassing us," or "you are embarassing me," or "I am embarassed."

I said: "ok . . . will you please stop being so easily embarrassed?"

"Is it OK!?" I said, my voice rising.

This box was priceless to me, and I didn't want our fun to stop so soon.

Silence . . . coming down the phone line.

"Damn it can't you answer a simple yes or no question?" I was panicing a little, I admit.

A few seconds passed. It seemed like an eternity.

"Its ok." he said. "I dropped it," again. I could tell he was flustered.

....

Just now heard that freaking Jesus Christ himself is our PR agent. Password: He knows a lot of powerful people in the media.

...this is exciting.

The device is basically a spherical NdBiFe permanent magnet with two coils at 90 degrees, supplied with two coordinated 90 degree out of phase pulses to create a tragically simple nutation of the magnetic field.

I could tell you all the technical details . . . but it uses a 555 timer . . . I think I could ask Brian, and a capacitor to switch the signal 90 degrees, then amplifiers and bipolar transistors, to supply the alternating signals.

These are generated as square waves by the 555 timer but by the magic of technology and science that only a few talented engineers can understand or explain, the voltage at the R0 resistor becomes sinusoidal. We thus have the convenience of using simple and efficient digital switching circuits.

I don't have to go on at length. Either you understand or you don't.

One of our principles MMM has access to 6 lightships of alien and earth design and manufacture.

We are violating secret federal laws here. It's dangerous.

...

Somebody bombed the hotel rooms of two NSA agents who were probably out to kill some of us.

I don't know who did it, but they probably are sorry they did it. It had to be done, because the stakes are infinitely high.

....

ok can you give me an idea as to how to achive ag on a small scale using resonance or angled coilspls

were y`all nekkid during the embarrassing moments?

Mr P,

I am not really able to give you all the technical details, now. Besides, I am a mechanical engineer, not an electrical one. If you are technical person, please sir, don't ask me to explain electronical gizmos, or to magnify on magnetics!

Can you concentrate in on the nuclear spin situation in rare earth magnetics?

Please, don't read the paper by Robert L. Forward, Outline on Antigravity, if you want to get an idea of what we are doing.

Please, don't read the antigravity patent by Warren, of GE in 1977 explaining how he simply spun a brass disk.

And if you understand and have read the 1947 paper published by Albert Einstein on the principles of Quantum Gravitational Theory. . . oh it's a waste of precious time!

... the relationships are obvious in my humble opinion.

Sadness.

Infinite sadness. A tragedy.

Last Thursday an ex-KGB agent dressed as one of our USMC sentries ran through our Au offices through the middle of the engineering staff.

With a flash of a really sharp sword, Brian's head was cut clean off in a single stroke. He fell down on the concrete floor.

They could do nothing but stare.

Kelly ran after the KGB guy. He ran the full length of the factory, and she followed. One of them had a mustard gas grenade, but she had a precisely fitted clear acrylic gas mask on before she approached the gas cloud. This kind of gas could be fatal.

Explanation . . . Kelly is an ex-KGB agent also. We hired her for security and she had been protecting me. Decided to marry her. Immensely skilled in spy craft, a black belt third degree karate, very fast, the highest IQ ever recorded for her, and she is psycologically automated for this task. I am leaving out some of the story, of course. And she loves a certain brown horse.

There was some kind of fight, the real life human equivalent of a two tasmanian devils mixing it up, there was a flash and the sword fell with a clap to the ground. She was facing off the immensly muscled man single handedly.

The USMC response really pissed me off.

They were just standing there with their freaking guns in the hands doing nothing.

I yelled at the semper fi captain, in my best R Lee Ermie impersonation, with flaming eyebrows, and suddenly grating and booming voice: "goddamn it you freaking retards. Can't you do something to help Kelly? She is standing in a mustard gas cloud facing a huge man. Can't you PLEASE do something?"

The captain pounded his right fist into his left hand. Kelly reached out and slapped the man hard on both cheeks, trying to incite him do something. He was in the cloud with no protection on and she was waiting for him to suffer from the mustard gas.

"Can't you guys do something?" I said.

I couldn't understand the delay.

I turned my face and stared at Alexander. He stared at the semper fi captain. There seemed to be some calculation going through Alexander's mind. He is a five star USMC general, with military priveleges, hence the semper fi sentries.

I glanced at Brian's corpse on the ground. I couldn't look at it now. I simply couldn't care about a dead man. I still have pictures in my head. They aren't horrible pictures. Just bizarre pictures. Just our most brilliant and useful engineering asset with his head separated from his body.

Alexander shouted in a certainly urgent and easily 90 decibel voice: "MOVE" and then he pointed in the direction of Kelly and the KGB agent.

How did I know he was a KGB agent? Our guy MMM and semper fi captain told me later.

They trotted in step, (how they do that, I don't know) down the factory hall. They got to the stalemated sparring partners, and simply grabbed the KGB agent. Soon he was trussed up on his belly on the ground, in the mustard gas cloud, not dead, but not comfortable either.

I couldn't believe that man's courage and determination coming into our high security region without gun. It was assduredly a suicide mission.

And Kelly was the one who stood up to him and reacted with decisive action. A 20 year old girl, a southern russian farm girl, (they are used to carrying a pair of 250 lb milk jugs like a professional weightlifter)


. . . and she DID have a third degree black belt

And she was prepared for anything.

And she DID carry two pistols in her large black leather purse, along with 500 rounds of Lapua 6mm ammo, nestled in the bottom of it, by her bed at night.

. . .And it was just a simple Nagent 8 round revolver, with an 18 inch barrel. She called it a "rifle", but it was not a rifle. It looked like a large pistol to me, with iron sights. She could kill at 800 yards without difficulty. Hmmm... A freaking impossible shot with any rifle.

I prefer a real man's rifle. A 7.62 mm Rem 700 bolt action, heavy barrel, with a 3x10x50 mm scope, with adjustable target cross hairs. The best sniper rifle made.

. . .

Is this somebody's attempt at science fiction?

It reads liek a badly-written short story, and the science aprts are very poorly written (I've heard better techno-babble on Star Trek).

Next thing, it sounded like 40 mm grenades started exploding about that end of the building outside. I heard M-16 machine gun fire. There was a war going on outside, and there was no way of telling how many hostiles were there and what they wanted. I guess they wanted to totally dominate the territory of Au, same as our friendly forces, the USMC.

But Au's president Alexander was not a five star USMC general for no reason. There was a lot of action, and I knew that the USMC were sharks moving in the water leaping at a wounded fish.

The engineers and I watched this hazardous drama. I looked at the mustard gas cloud slowly diffusing toward myself and the engineers. Kelly was walking out of the mustard gas cloud toward us.

I commented at the other engineers, "we need someone to turn on the exhaust fans."

The semper fi captain replied, "they are on."

...

This is an absolutely true story.

Next the semper fi captain produced a roll of transparent plastic trashbags.

He said, "Listen up. We have to place these plastic bags over our heads. Watch me. Team up with the person on your right. Trap a lot of air inside the bag, and then pinch it closed. You can breath the trapped air for about 30 minutes." It was an improvised mustard gas counter measure."

The engineers responded listlessly. They weren't responding with very much clarity. Perhaps they thought they were gonna be dead soon.

The captain continued: "We cannot go outside and this is the safest place considering that they have guns outside, and we are relatively well ventilated here.

I formed a bubble, the light went on, and I was suddenly Bubble Boy!

"Hey guys look at me, I am bubble boy. You wanna be bubble boy." They seemed to get it.

"I wanna see what that guy looks like."

I walked over to the trussed up man, and into the mustard gas cloud. I got close enough to see that there was nothing much to see, and to prove that the Bubble Boy mustard gas countermeasure was effective.

Now here's where the problem is . . . you won't believe what happened next.

Brian announced: "Ok, I am going to get up now."

A multitude of thoughts entered my mind then. The foremost was: "What are you doing getting up! He cut your head off!" And that was what I said.

He said, "Next I am going to place my head squarely back upon my neck."

Kelly said: "Let me lend a hand. Semper fi give me the gaffer's tape..."

Semper fi said, "Let me do that, you eat more of the pizza." It hadn't been lunchtime, but boxes of pizza always littered the work tables.

Semper fi wrapped the tape around Brian's neck wound. The explanation was that Brian was an angel and impossible to kill. There was no blood, as he had gone instantly into shock, to stop his blood from flowing out into a pool.

Brian said: "I think I can keep on working, as long as I don't move too fast, and I don't bend over too far."

OK, work would continue.

I was concerned that the KGB man was left for too long in the mustard gas cloud. I thought he was going to die. He was grunting and struggling.

Brian said, "I feel so tired. Classical symptoms of death."

'Is that supposed to be funny?' I thought, so I said it.

He said, "Do you think its funny???"

"Yes, sort of."

Next we proceeded to test the larger NdBiFe ball with the 3.4 Tesla field.

The 8 foot diameter hull was made with concrete, one inch thick. Heavy but durable basic transportation.

A PIC microprocessor was added to seek constantly the frequency that maximised the voltage across R0, using a PID algorithm.

The PIC clock frequency was about 10 MHz, thus the controllable output frequency was limited to 10 MHz or less. We found out that the actual limit was about 800,000 Hz, because to seek the right frequency required the PIC to do some some math, about 21 lines of assembly language code.
...

My riteeng is bad and you don't liek eet?

I am gonna have a weiner schnitzel now.

Waaaaa!

<Tears forming and falling down face.>

chiptruth:
"sekhmet kheper! the giveaway is this : The device is ..."

Oh yeah, it was serious up to that point!
How naive are you?

BEAUTIFUL FILTHY RAGS

The president of Au, Alexander is a nuclear physicist and engineer, who recently published a seminal paper which is beginning to replicate A. Einstien's earlier work on 1947. Oops! I am sure that he is embarrassed.

"I am embarrassed," he might say.

Well, I helped him with that. I hope he gave me some credit!

"The nuclear implications of punic era sling anomalous accuracy re Heisenberg's uncertainty principle, etc ..."

He can kill you with a nuclear missile of words, words, verbiage, lettuce, A Nuked Lunch.

A nuclear engineer is basically a mechanical engineer like me. I am a nuclear disaster in the making.

However, let's cleanup.

Sometimes he can put on an awesome studied imitation of a knave or a fool. But he's no fool, he's a calculated fool. Calculated as in calulus. All engineers are required to study analytical geometry, and calculus. I took 4 years of advanced mathematics, in order to get my mechanical engineering degree. I passed classes in which I had no idea what anything meant.

I always personalise.

I waved at him.

He said,

I always particularise.

He had those particular eyes.

He could see what could only be

imagined and visualised

what nobody else could see

he had the dreams and the visions

I waved back at him

What does this mean?, we said

test yourself

I prefer to remain vague

lest these bosons become leptons

guaranteed to tell

who touched you while you were sleepy

with magic spiritual fingers

in your touche

wubba wubba wubba

she said


*
*
*

SIGNS OF SUCCESS

Kelly had sniperised fantasies of stylised battlefields.

We said: "Let's make one of those signs."

"What should it say?" said Sarael.

Suggestion: "let all who enter here know geometry"

Cool!

Kelly, I have a job for you. Take this hypervelocity Heckler and Koch MP5, with .177 calibur stainless steel ball rounds, and write that famous saying into this 0.500 inch thick x 2' x 3' plate of 7073-T651 ... and do a neat job of it.

Kelly said: "Oh I have always wanted to fire one of these expensive machine guns!!!" She snaped her fingers and pounded her fist into her palm. She had an aggressive streak. I like that.

She said, "this is possibly too easy."

They set up the aluminum plate and she backed off to about maybe 30 yards? . . . who knows exactly?

And there was a a series of bursts of machine gun fire that expended precisely 1234 balls in precisely 3.3333 seconds. She was hyper about this writing assignment.

Semper fi captian said, "We need four bullet hole in the corners."

There were 3 shot bursts times four.

The semper fi captain began to walk up to the sign, but Kelly stopped him and said, "I am NOT DONE YET mister."

She began to decorate the edges.

Still not out of ammo, she took her hand out of the trigger guard and exercised her thumb and forefinger, in the typical gun shooting gesture.

She threw her hair over her left shoulder, in a very fetching pose, finalised it.

OK. She said. Go ahead, I'm done.

...

A second sign . . . "This is The Dreamland."

The aluminum sign was placed over the doorway into the area of the factory floor where we really did most of our work. The hand written sign was on the left side of the same door way, written right into the dry wall.

...


Someone took a Sharpie indelible marker

TECHNICAL BATTLES AND
TECHNICAL REPORTS

There is something particularly difficult about aggressive, highly intelligent and sensitive people.

I got to go.

More later.

Something is coming up.

TECHNICAL REPORT

The experimental ship achieved apparently inertialess drive when the ship vanished completely as seen by the observers.

Sarael said: I could swear I could see something there but it wasn't the ship. I followed the tether up with my eyes, and then it stopped in space and there was an ovoid lenselike distortion of space through which I could sort of see the ceiling.

The report from the pilot on the ship was as follows:

Damn its hot in here! (with 75,000 watts of quartz incandescent light being radiated from the ship.)

Conclusion: Though we called it a total thermodynamic control volume, there were some holes for energy to get through the gravity/light barrier.

Was the pilot able to see out? "Yes sir."

The pilot reported that when her eyes were adapted to the lights she could see out through the gravity/light barrier.

Thus it was confirmed that it wasn't a perfect energy flow barrier.

QUESTION: Could a couple of bright lights be positioned pointing up and down through the nutation axis in order to dump excess power more effectively?

. . .

TECHNICAL REPORT

Though we acheived up and down control by varying the nutation rate, and we had near inertialess grace, we had only one sphere.

The implication was that by turning a frequency variable knob, the ship was ascending and descending in a very closely controlled fashion.

About 8:30 am EST this morning I proposed a public demonstration. We could satisfy the crowds who were waiting to see something outside.

The US congress had declared a closed session and senators, congressmen, Navy and Army officers were waiting outside.

Brian sat in the ship.

At first the ship made the concrete floor and the house vibrate at a low frequncy . . . at about 70 Hz the ship lifted up from the floor.

Then the concrete hull about 7 feet in diameter, without a bonnet on it, floated perfectly in space.

The engineers and I warred with our anger. . . why hadn't we acheived full X,Y,Z controls yet? In about 9 days, we had levitation and only controlled the Z axis. Damn it!

But it sure made me happy to see this peaceful engineer, whose head had recently been chopped off in an assasination attempt (he was an angel and could not be killed), with a gleam in his eyes, and a tight small grin.

. . .

TECHNICAL REPORT

I was in the back giving "suggestions" as usual.

"Question: Is there a garage door or a sky light in this place? Or do we have to knock out panels in the roof?" I said in my usual peevish manner.

Someone pointed out that there was a door down and to the right, of sufficient size to drive a full size semi trailer through.

"Would you people push the ship toward the door, please?"

Everybody wanted to help but only two people were needed to move the ship at a walking speed.

We got to the door and Kelly asked: "Would the door open if I pushed this button marked 'UP'?"

I said: "Sweetums, just go ahead and find out."

So she pushed the "UP" button and there was a sound and the door shook, and nothing else happened.

"Oh my God, I am just an ignorant southern Russian farm girl, and I don't understand American advanced technology. I desperately need one of you capitalist engineers to tell me what to do next." In actual fact, her IQ was outrageously, embarrassingly high, probably about 160-180.

Some jerk, whose name escapes me, said "it's true, it's true, my impression is that you Southern Russians are a century behind us Northeastern Urban Americans, and you have to slide this lever here to the left and do the other side also. These are called 'locks'."

"Ah ha!!!" she said musically, and before the jerk could move she was quickly opening the door, which admittedly she had never seen before.

The "UP" button was pushed, and in a few seconds, the door was up.

We could see the crowd outside.

"Suggestion; Alexander, could we get some Marines with guns, to clap their hands, and form a necessary cordon so that we can have space? And watch the crowd for heat seeking shoulder fired missiles, or some such ridiculous stunt like that?"

He issued the orders, and the Marines jumped like guided missiles.

The captain walked straight out, clapped his hands, flexed his muscles and shouted, "Would you guys like to back up so that we can fly this machine out and into the skies?"

. . .

The Hardy Boys would have solved this great mystery already.

DRAMATIC RESULTS

They pushed the ship out of the door, into the early morning diffuse sunlight. There was little to no breeze, and the temperature was about 48 degrees F.

The crowd began a scattered applause and cheering.

Someone in our group had a mechanical type 40 year old Minolta 35mm SLR camera in perfect condition, of the kind that would work in the neighborhood of the gravitational field, and she was taking pictures with it.

Roger said: "I have found a particular Kodak model of digital camera that would work out to here," and he held it in front of him and walked forward.

"Suggestion," I said, "let's rise up above the roof and let her hover for about 30 minutes."

Brian adjusted the frequency control knob and the ship popped to a new altitude about 40 feet up.

The crowd was stomping their feet, clapping their hands and wildy cheering.

Brian made a real production of it. He stood in the ship and began dancing and stomping and waving his arms about cheerfully. I was afraid he was about to slip and fall.

"Brian would you please be careful!" I called out.

"Whoops!!!!" Brian said, and flopped comically on the rim with his head and both arms out. I could tell by his light hearted attitude that he was faking it.

. . .

MILITARY SHIPS ?

"Oh my stars, Alexander, please don't go talk to those important military officers about possible military applications" I said.

He nodded his head, and raced over to the officers. I followed slowly in order to listen.

"I am United States Marine Corps five star general Alexander Perseus, and president of this corporation."

The Navy admiral said "Can I respectfully shake your hand?"

They clapped hands together and there was Contact of both hearts, eyes and hands.

Alexander said: "I can see something that would cost about 65 bucks that would be able to destroy the M1 Abrams tank, and would have superior armor, of our own discovery and design, with a hyper machine gun cannon of 0.60 caliber and 200,000 feet per second muzzle velocity, which would be able fly through the air with absolute silence and ridiculous, almost unlimited speed . . . so do you think it would it be possible for us to arrange a formal meeting?"

"65 bucks! Now you mean, 65 million bucks each?" the Navy admiral said.

"Uh hmmm." Alexander nodded.

"I would have to see plans and a prototype."

"Listen, could you wait about three months? I think we could have a functional prototype and test. Our ship vs your best M1 tank?"

"Asshole! We'll shoot your ship out of the sky! Are you dense?"

"I must be a total retard! But yes, I think I am making sense."

"Interesting, interesting, interesting, but yes I think we'll have a real test." The admiral said.

"Could we have something to crawl about in the bushes of Kentucky?" asked the Army general.

"I am no stranger to land warfare." His voice had a strange edge and boom as if artificially amplified, "I think the same model would work for both. And I think this tank could probably float and be submersible in the ocean without men dying."

. . .

I had a clear vision in my mind of a foot thick hull of special high density concrete with multiple zirconia marbles of various diameters taking up about 55% of the volume, resistant to the best current M1 120 mm cannon.

We have another little corporation that had licensed my invention of the hyper gun, which we had decided to call the P-shooter, with P for Pulse.

FLASHBACK TO THE ADVANCED ARMOR TEST

About a month ago MMM was in the Bahamas on some secret mission. I called him up and said: "We need a test of some kind of new kind armor that can resist the hyper gun."

"Let's get some locally available portland cement in 40 lb bags, buy boxes of zirconia balls of various diameters, form a hole in the wet beach sand of about 1 foot cubed, and pour the mix into the mold of sand."

He and his crew did this and about 24 hours later it was ready. He had a yellow nylon tow strap. He dug the block out with his hands, and loosened it from the land.

Kelly marched up. "What do you think this weighs?"

"I don't know for sure," MMM said. "About 400 pounds, I think?"

"I'll bet I can lift this up," she said. She smashed her right fist into her left palm.

"OK" MMM said.

She put the yellow strap around the block and made a pair of loops, fitted them over her hip bones, squatted and lifted. She stood there with her knees locked.

"Where do you want this placed sir?" Her lips and teeth were slightly clenched.

"I think we should set it over here."

He walked about 12 paces . . .

"about here . . ." He stomped.

"OK," she said, "its heavy, but I can do it."

So she did.

"Crisis. . . this isn't the perfect place." He walked casually, coolly about another 50 yards almost to the surf splash.

"OK, here," he stomped.

"OK, sir I am coming." She waddled with straight legs and small steps to his position.

MMM said, "OK, what next?"

She let the straps fall to the sand. "I am not even tired." She said and slapped her strong Russian farm girl thighs.

MMM produced a hyper H&K machine gun from his coat. It was a special short barrel edition with a 300 round top mounted magazine. It had the hypervelocity attachment, apparently an array of ceramic plates about 6 inches long rectangular in section on the muzzle end of the barrel.

"This'll do for the test."

He took a stance perfect for shooting. He fired a 3 shot burst, inherantly silenced, just some clattering about 50 decibels in volume and rushed up to the block.

"Barely touched it." MMM said.

"Awesome!" Kelly said. "Now lemme try it."

She fired about 100 rounds into the same point. A flake came off, and no further progress was made. There was a glowing bright orange red crater in the middle which was slowly dimming.

. . .

Another test with a 0.375 inch caliber hypervelocity ball round at 120,000 fps had little effect.

The test at Au with a 0.60 inch caliber with 200,000 fps muzzle velocity shattered the block into about 5 pieces. The same round went through a meter thick hot rolled steel armor.

Thus we believed we had an improved substance for armor.

Our engineers did a calculation of the maximum thickness of the concrete that could harmonise with the nutating magnetic field . . . the conclusion . . . a massive 70 inches.

We could defeat the M1 Abrams, fly over it at high speed and smash it with our gun from above.

This was tough love.

. . .

I told you this is really happening.

Is this some sort of strange Falun Gong Usenet pornography?

What?

Turkey butts!