The Phantom Plane

I'm taking several images using my long-zoom digital camera, perfect for catching Triple Sevens spiraling down towards the Pacific winds. I marvel from the panoramic view of my bosses window and try to guess where ATC will allow the pilots to land. It's one of the two busiest times of the week for flights, Friday afternoon, the second being Monday morning.

Across the south runway, there's a twinkle in the window coming from the old abandoned hangar formally known as the Lake Airways hangar.

From the outside, it looks like a decaying building prime and ready for a demolition, but it's been the topic of many hours of amusing tin-hat and antenna-helmet conspiracy discussions with my cousin, Luis. 

"Ernesto?"

Mr. Anderson startled me.

"You're here a little early?".

"Oh yes, sorry sir, wanted to check out a plane landing."

"No worries. I wanted to just thank you for coming in." Mr. Anderson said, he had a very articulate but thick accent. It had a particular sing-song style, with a Scandinavian inflection. Never quite knew exactly where he was from, but his voice alluded in my head as something intimidating. He was actually a nice guy however.

He smiled and his tone puckered up excitedly. "Oh, yes, yes. A very rare treat of the Dream Liner, it wouldt be landing soon. To top it off? Great paint job of the latest promotion of Tom Cruise new movie! Yes, terribly exciting. Were you here for this one, Ernesto?" 

"Yeah, I was. I also saw a really nice Airbus 350."

"Ah, the sky's Big-Boy." he laughed.

Despite towering at six foot seven inches, Mr. Anderson was seldom noticed in the warehouse, in fact; for all the years I worked in his company, I had never really seen him leave or enter the office. He had always arrived too early or had left too late from regular work hours. The man worked as tirelessly to keep a tight-knit operation going as he did with the way he presented himself. He was always dressed as if headed to a corporate meeting, everyday he had the most expensive fabrics I had seen with equally expensive dress shoes and watches.

"So, what did you want to speak with me about, sir?"

"Ah, yes. Ernesto, can you believe, I've spent all dees years working in dees very building coming in as you say... bright-eyed and bush tails. After almost eight years, I'm leaving this incredible company. Like divine intervention, something called out to me from the skies, a rendition of a cloud that reminded me of back home and my mudder."

Mr. Anderson rose up to straighten his collection of modeled planes.

One of them, a strange Lake Airways model plane. The airline once operated charters in the sixties, had since been shut down for a variety of different serious issues. The reason why it was odd, was this model had a very modern futuristic quality.

"Ernesto, what do you think of getting into managerial side?" 

I nervously laughed, for a moment assuming he was joking. Then quickly changed my demeanor, "Oh." I nodded. "Yes, sir. I appreciate the consideration, I would definitely be interested in something like that."

He stood up and extended his hand for a shake.

"That's wonderful to hear. I see a future for you here. Please send me a resume soon, yes? For formalities of course."

I thanked him again and proceeded out the door.

"Dere's actually one more thing, Ernesto. Please stay out of the old hangar. I know it's a popular place for the warehouse workers to take deir break, but we've been getting FAA complaints. As a personal favor to me, yes?"

"Of course...sir"

"Thank you, Ernesto."

Then it struck me, something was a little off about the way he said the last thing.

As if he was nervous or upset or angry, I couldn't tell but it was something.

Shortly after leaving the office, I quickly set up plans for dinner to hang out with Luis later that night and to talk about the situation.

*****

After having dinner, I sat with my cousin in his living room, sipping espressos and shooting the shit about our great aerial shots of the planes we took while spotting. Then I told him about my surprise meeting with my corporate boss, Mr. Anderson.

"I can't believe he said that to you. What were his specific words?"

"Just like I said it. He told me to not to spend any more time at the old Lake Airways spot."

"Damn." 

"Yes! I'm telling you there's something up with that area, and it's not just in my head. You have to believe me. I've worked a couple early morning shifts, there's always something strange and there's a noise coming out of there when there's nothing in the vicinity. Trust me, I'm pretty good at determining the sound of an engine rolling by. I know what some twin engine noises sounds like."

"Maybe it's the Flying Dutchmen in the sky?"

"Right. Or moreso, I suspect it's some kind of phantom plane. Some new hi-technology." 

"You gotta turn off those late night podcasts, Ernie. I thought were talking about an early release of that Supersonic Jet. You know like that one from the news that could fly passengers from JFK to London Heathrow in less than four hours. Not some comic book invisible thing.

"We're clearly not on the same page here, Luis."

"Ha!"

I knew in my gut I was right but, Luis Had no faith in my judgement.

"Was nice catching up, Luis but I think I'm gonna to hit the hay.

*****

The next morning, I arrived extra early for my shift to test my theory, having felt like a frustrated conspiracy nut to my cousin, ironic after all the BS he talked. I made my way to pick up equipment and proceeded to drive in the fog, a particular fear of mine is not seeing a plane driving by before it's too late, so I was careful. This time, I waited for that noise to come and I predicted the time it did, it drove further pass the restricted area zones to follow it closely.

After driving in that heavy mist for a while, I was now in front of the hangar doors. The doors opened and I boldly decided to drive in, through, then a beam of red light flared upon me.

The Inside of the place was something astounding.

It was a ruse from the outside view. Inside was like a page out of a history book, sixties decor embellished the place. A brown, reddish, orange color coordination with a sleek design. There was technology like out of a science fiction novel sprinkled around, and to my amazement, small servant robots working their mundane tasks. I spotted some floating forklifts moving luggage and freight to another side of the building. There was an escalator moving people exiting in from the arriving flights to a lobby waiting room, then others heading to board another small private jet bearing the old Lake Airways logo.

I hesitantly exited my vehicle to a parking lot and walked down to follow some of the people inside. A message popped out through a projection image when heading pass a main door. 

"Welcome to Tier Two! We're happy to have you back!"

Then a screen near me took my attention away, there was a commercial where a family advertised their lifestyle. The message noted, "Where centuries of great investments and good choices brings you to the next phase of happiness. Tier Two. We're happy to have you back!" They didn't seem to care I was there, so I continued on wide-eyed and filled with curiosity, blending in.

This may not have been the image me and my cousin had when we pondered about how an Illuminati layer looked like. There was no hieroglyph, Latin phrases or occult symbols in sight. Nobody had on goat heads and Venetian masks, people looked ordinary, and there were still seemingly similar items in this new world from familiar companies. Some children in the lobby were snacking from the elongated buffet tables set up, there was a line of food from some of the most popular countries.

This secret terminal had been built with an absolute disregard for expenses.

"Right this way, sir." said a speaker from the wall.

After following the direction lights and helpful guiding robots, I found myself in a lobby where people were eagerly queuing to board a plane designated to a place I never even heard of, but the area displayed in a map was one I've seen. As we utilized the propulsion system propelling through panels from the hangar roof, our planes departed, it would be a short flight. And it would pass through a unique route in the sky towards an area North of Alaska. While on board, I stared outside of the transparent walls and could see an invisible line below Alaskas mountainous landscape. I had known it was there from the carcasses of deer, and bird bones forming a line. After flying over our designated area, the place looked like a large densely vegetated area with skyscrapers in the center. The buildings were so tall that they made modern Dubai architecture look twenty years behind.

This was no island but a large mass of land, an eighth continent, hidden for God knows how long from the rest of the world.

"Thank you for flying with us at Lake Airways, a proud sponsor to the next phase of life, Tier Two. Happy to have you back!"

My mouth left agape at the robots around maneuvering drinks and food to the all VIP passengers on board.

Where we landed, the terminal had been in tune with nature, colorful exotic plants surrounded the terminal.

This was a Utopian paradise, and only a fraction of the population would ever see it. 

A helpful bot then guided me to a vehicle with a sophisticated hovering system.

This route took me to a large mansion in the middle of the woods. Inside and alone in this house, I found myself enjoying and basking in it's riches, from every entertainment medium I've known to enjoy, but a more enhanced experience. All you could eat delicacies seemed to be prepared by the bots from every unique taste upon request. There was an automated staff for anything I needed.

The day seemed to pass by like a flash of light. I would need to come up with a good explanation for when I returned back home, but most importantly figure out how to get back. It was tempting to stay just a a few more days like this in this new world.

A knock on the door disrupted my tranquility at the end of the day.

One of my servant machines, presented an ear piece on a red velvet pillow and gestured for me to attach it.

I opened the door to a towering familiar figure.

It was Mr. Anderson smiling, speaking in his native language. The device in my ear translated what he said back to me. 

"Ernesto, I'm glad you were able to make it." he said. He walked in to sit and kick his feet out to the couch. "Will I take this gesture as a confirmation to my offer?" 

I nodded. But, Something made me too afraid to decline on the spot.

"I have so much to explain to you my friend. It all began during the last thousands of years, through the triangulation of the world's maps, this has been one of our best kept secrets. A place to call our very own. And It is an honor to have you as my first guest to break in my new home."

"When will I get to go home?"

"Relax, I've bought us a bit of time, Ernesto. According to the news report, that fog wasn't too kind to you. It's all part of the plan. It'll leave us just enough time for your training."