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First published in Not Normal, Illinois: Peculiar Fictions from the Flyover, edited by Michael Martone (Quarry Books, 2009):

roman baker stood in the bright and crackling current of light that zipped around in patterned waves underneath the oval canopy entrance to the casino. He wasn't a gambler. The skittering brilliance didn't draw him in and he was already irritated with the piped-out carol music. A twenty, smoothly folded in his pocket, didn't itch him or burn his ass one bit. He had come to the casino because it was just a few days before Christmas and he didn't know how to celebrate. Maybe the electronic bell strum of slot machines would soothe him, or watching the cards spreading from the dealer's hands in arcs and waves. He took a step to the left, toward the cliffs of glass doors.
As he opened his hand to push at the door's brass plate and enter, a white man of medium height and wearing a green leather coat pressed his car keys into Roman's palm. Without waiting for a claim ticket, without even looking at Roman beyond the moment it took to ascertain that he was brown and stood before the doors of an Indian casino, the man walked off and was swallowed into the jingling gloom.
Roman waited before the doors, holding the keys. All of the valets were occupied. He held up the keys. A few seconds later, he put down his hand and clutched the keys in his fist. No one had seen this happen. Roman turned away from the doors, opened his hand, and saw that one shining key among the other keys belonged to a Jeep Cherokee. Immediately, he spotted the white Cherokee parked idling just beyond the lights of the canopy. An amused little voice in his head said go for it. He didn't think it out, just walked over to the car, got in, and drove away.
You couldn't call this stealing, since the guy gave me the keys, Roman told himself, but we are on a slippery slope. He checked at the lighted gauge of the Cherokee, and saw that the tank was nearly empty. There was a Super stop, handy, just down the road. Roman drove up to the bank of pumps and inserted the Cherokee's hose into the gas tank. Eight dollars worth should do it, he thought, and then he wondered. Do what? In the store, he decided he should be methodical, buy something to eat or drink. Afterwards, he would know what to do. The complicated bar of coffee machines drew him, and he stepped up to the grooved aluminum counter, chose a tall white insulated cup, and placed it under a machine's hose labeled French Vanilla. He held the button until the cup was three quarters full, and let the nozzle keep drizzling sweet foam on top. Then he figured out which plastic travel lid matched his cup and pressed it on, over the froth. So as not to burn his hand, he fitted the cup into a little cardboard sleeve. He paid for everything out of his twenty, and walked outside. It was a warm winter night in the middle of a thaw. Bits of moisture hung glittering in the gas-smelling air. There was a very light dust of sparkling fresh snow sinking into the day's brown slush.
"A white Christmas, huh?" said a woman's voice, just to the left.
"Yes, it will be enchanting," Roman answered.
He was the kind of person people spoke to in situations that could easily stay completely impersonal. His face was round, his nose pleasantly blunt, his eyes wide and friendly. His smile was genuine, he had been told. Yet women never stayed with him. Perhaps he was too comfortable, too nurturing, and reminded them of their mothers. Desperate mothers who wanted their children home before dark or wouldn't let them out of sight. Now, in addition to being motherly, plus the kind of person people spoke to on the streets or while pumping their gas, he was the type into whose comfortable palm strange white men trustingly pressed their car keys.
And house keys, too, and other keys. Roman jingled the set before his eyes and then fit the correct car key into the lock. He got into the car and carefully set the cappuccino into the cup holder before he drove to the edge of the parking lot. There, he turned on the dome light and opened the glove compartment. He found the car's registration, folded in a clear plastic sleeve, and the proof of insurance, too, with numbers to call. The owner's name was Torvil J. Morson and his address was 2272 West 195th Street, in the closest suburb. Roman took another drink of the milky, sweet, deadly tasting cappuccino. Then he put the cup back into the holder and drove carefully out of the lot.
The casino was prosperous because it was just far enough from the city to be considered a Destination Resort, and yet close enough so only an hour's quickly diminishing farmland, pine woods, and snowy fields stood between the reservation boundaries and the long stretch of little towns that had blended via strip malls and housing developments into the biggest population center in that part of the Midwest. Roman knew approximately how far he was from 195th street, and it took him exactly the 45 minutes he'd imagined to get there, find the house, and pull into the driveway, which he wouldn't have done unless he'd seen already that the windows were dark. The house was a small one story ranch style painted the same drab green as the jacket of the man who gave Roman the car keys.
Roman got out of the car, walked up to the front door, used the key. Just like that, he entered. Once in, he shut the door behind him and wiped his feet on a rough little welcome mat. The house had its own friendly smell-- slightly stale smoke, cinnamon buns, wet dried sour wool. A powerful streetlight cast a silvery glow through the front picture window. As his eyes adjusted, Roman stepped onto grayish, wall-to-wall carpet, and padded silently across the living room. His heart slowed. The carpeting soothed him. He went straight across the room to the kitchen, divided off by only a counter, and opened the freezer section of the refrigerator. He'd heard that people often kept their jewelry and cash there in case of a burglary or fire. There was a coffee can in the freezer, but it only held ground coffee. A few other promising Tupperware containers held nothing but old stew, alas. Roman shut the insulated door and rubbed his hands together to strike the chill from his fingers. Then he walked down the hall. He stepped into a bedroom, turned on the light. Posters of pop stars, stuffed animals, pencil drawings and dried flowers were taped to the walls. A teenage girl's room. Nothing. He turned out the light and found the master bedroom, the one closest to the bathroom. He was just about to turn on the light when the sound of breathing, or the sense of it, anyway, in the room, stopped his hand.
Then it didn't sound like breathing, but something else, sighing and watery. A fish tank, Roman thought. He listened a bit longer, then switched on the light and saw, on a table next to a window, a small plug-in fountain. The water coursed endlessly over an arrangement of smooth, black stones. Roman thought this must belong to the man's wife. He frowned at himself in the dressing room mirror, and adjusted the lapel of his jacket. The wife, or the teen, or another member of the family might return while he was standing in the lighted bedroom. Yet Roman had no prickles up his back, no darts of fear, no sense of apprehension. In fact, he felt as much at home as if he lived in this house himself. He was even tempted to lie down on the big queen-sized bed neatly made up with a purple quilt and pillows arranged upon pillows. Where had he read about this? Goldilocks! This bed looked comfortable. He thought of the three bears. There was a Mrs. Morson for sure, thought Roman. He pictured a bear meditating by the fountain. A meditator probably wasn't the type who would own gold and diamond jewelry, but he still had to check. There was not a safe on the closet floor, or even a velvety box on the top of the dresser or in the drawer that held underwear. No, there was only underwear, and it was decent, fresh cotton. What am I doing, thought Roman, with my hands in Mrs. Morson's underwear?
He shut the drawer firmly and sat on the edge of the bed.
I'm not going to find any cash, he decided. Mr. Morson has taken it to the casino. Treading down the hall and back across the soft carpet, he felt cheated. What had happened with the car keys was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Roman had never before done anything that was strictly criminal. But this break-in, where he hadn't had to actually break in, this was given to him. It was as though Mr. Morson had invited him to travel to his house and look for valuables. And nothing there! The house was very still now, the street outside utterly deserted, the neighboring houses dim and shut. Roman sat down on the couch, wishing that he had the rest of his cappuccino, but he'd left the cup in the car. There was a tremendous energy to the quiet, it seemed to him, a seething quality. He felt that he should do something bold, or important, with this piece of fate that he'd been handed. As he was thinking of what he might do, someone knocked on the door. Roman's first instinct was not to answer. But the expectant quality of the silence was too much for him. He went to the door and opened it. There stood a woman and a man, both in coats but wearing no scarves or hats. The woman held a wrapped gift. The man carried a crock-pot out of which there issued a faint and delicious, smoky, bean-soup scent.
"Oh, thank god!"
The woman stepped into the entryway, the man also, both exuding an air of conspiratorial excitement.
"Very clever, keeping the lights off," said the man. "But isn't that his car?"
"He gave me the keys and I just drove it here," Roman told him. The man gave a scratchy laugh that turned into a cough.
"Where should I put this?" He lifted the Crock-Pot slightly.
"In the kitchen?" said Roman.
"Let's put his presents in there, too," said the woman. "You must work with T.J. Have we met?"
"I'm Roman Baker."
"You look like an Indian," said the woman.
"People tell me that!" said Roman.
"Okay, and I'm Willa and that's Buzz with the seven bean soup. It's his specialty. Just the countertop lights! No overhead!"
"Right!" Buzz sounded gleeful. "Is Zola back yet? Did she get the cake?"
"I think so," said Roman. His skull suddenly felt tight, his eyes scratchy and shifty in their sockets. "I feel bad," he mumbled. "I don't have a gift. Maybe I should go out for sodas or beer."
"Oh, T.J. won't notice. T.J. will have a shit fit. I think we should all hide behind the counters and the couch. Will you get the door, Roman?"
"Come on in," said Roman, as he opened the door. "Wipe your feet." Two young men and an older woman stood on the steps. One man carried a neatly foil covered bowl. The other held a large, pale, tissue-wrapped gift.
"We brought Mom," one of the young men squealed, "she's drunk. She's such a hoot!"
"I drank a strawberry wine cooler. I'm loaded," said the elderly lady in a prim and sober voice. "Let me in so I can ditch these two idiots. Does he suspect?" She eyed Roman with a flare of exasperation, her scarlet mouth down-twisted.
"Not in the slightest," Roman told her. He helped her out of her coat while the two young men settled their things in the kitchen.
"Very clever, all the lights out," the lady muttered, "Zola says he'll pee his pants."
"That's pretty much what Willa says, too," Roman told the lady. Steering her toward the couch, he startled himself. A picture formed in his mind. It was himself. Crouched on the carpet. Out of control. Pissing his own pants and howling with surprised mirth.
"They're sending me out for more strawberry wine coolers," he said. He patted the woman's hand.
"You're an Indian," she said, severely and as if imparting information to him.
"A big one," said Roman.
The others in the kitchen were whooping with secretive anticipation. Roman touched the keys in his pocket, walked out the door. As he neared the white Cherokee two more people stepped into the driveway, asked him in low and enthralled voices if anybody else was there.
"Go on in," Roman told them. "Willa and Buzz are organizing everybody."
"Oh God!" said the woman. "I saw his car! I thought he'd got home already. Zola's following us. She'll be here any minute with the cake."
Roman jumped into the car, backed down the driveway, and drove the opposite way down the street from the way he guessed Zola would arrive.
Back on the turnoff to the highway, he thought, right or left? But it was inevitable. He headed toward the casino. The cappuccino was still warm and on the way there he finished it. He started to feel good. Yes, he had been given the Morson's keys, the keys to their life, and he'd visited that life. Enough. Nothing had happened after all. He hadn't taken anything except this car--for a drive. As he neared the vast casino parking lot he slowed and carefully reconnoitered, watching for extra security or flashing lights in case the Cherokee had been reported stolen. But all was bright and calm. Gamblers were walking to and fro, those who had self-parked. Others were waiting with their claim tickets on the swirl patterned carpet in the lobby underneath the lighted canopy. Roman eased the car into a marked space cautiously, far from the activity, and took his empty cappuccino cup with him before he locked the car's door.
That was your little adventure, he told himself. Now what? But he knew what. He walked back to the casino entrance and walked through, into the icy bells and plucking, continual ring that did predictable and pleasurable things to his central nervous system. He breathed faster in excitement. Possibly, the sound depressed left brain action. He felt connected to an irrational and urgent universe of lucky chance. His fingers twitched. First things first. He scanned the seated players looking for the green leather jacket, which was all he remembered about Morson. He decided to make a sweep, starting at the far end of the casino, checking the men's room first. He went up each row and down each row, passed behind each glazed, ghostly player. It took so long that he thought of giving up and simply turning the keys in at the lost and found. But then, there was T.J. Morson, green jacket slung behind him, staring into the lighted tumble of little pirate cove symbols on his machine's curved torso.
Roman tapped his shoulder and Morson waved him off, not to be bothered. Roman watched the man shove in three more quarters and hold his breath. Then sit back, dazed, rub his hand over his face.
Roman touched his shoulder again. "Happy Birthday."
"What?"
Morson turned and focused on him. His face was clean-cut and perfectly square, a solid Norwegian jawline, pale eyes, hair already white and thin, a little tousled. He was falling into heaviness around the neck and then below, like Roman, it was pretty close to a lost cause. Roman dangled the keys.
"You dropped these, I think?"
Morson slapped the pockets of his pants.
"For God sakes, thought I had it parked!"
Roman gave him the keys and turned to go, but he couldn't, not quite. He took a last look at Mr. Morson and saw that something was very wrong with him. T.J. Morson was sitting there with his mouth open, staring at the car keys. Not moving.
"Hey," Roman bent toward him, then waved his hand before the man's eyes, "you okay?"
"No," said Mr. Morson. He shut his mouth and then slowly, like a very old man, stood and shrugged on his jacket. He dropped the keys, picked them up. Sat back down and stared once more at the machine. Slowly, from his pants pocket, he drew a bit of change. Held it out questioningly to Roman, who rummaged in his own pocket and exchanged what Mr. Morson offered for a quarter. Morson held it a moment, then played it. Nothing.
"You okay?" Roman asked again.
But Morson was staring vacantly before him. His mouth was open and his hands were shaking.
"Not all right, not all right," he muttered.
"Hey," said Roman, "come on. Get up. Let's go sit in the cafe. I'll buy you a coffee."
"What I need is a drink."
"Yeah, well, maybe." Roman helped steady Mr. Morson. They walked down the aisle of light and sound, along a short hallway, and into a small interior restaurant where the waitress gave them a booth for two and poured their coffee.
"Cream. Lots of it. Thanks," Roman told her. She left the pot and a bowl of tiny plastic servings of flavored half-and-half.
"Thank you," said T.J. Morson, staring at the brown pottery cup. "And thank you for returning my car keys." His voice was heavy as a pour of concrete. The syllables seemed to harden as they fell from his mouth. "Well," he looked up, scanned the country-themed room, "this is it."
"What are you talking about?" asked Roman.
Morson put his face in his hands and then slowly pushed his hands up his face and over his hair. "That was it," he said again.
"Listen." Roman was beginning to feel alarmed. "It's your birthday. You should be heading home." He thought of all the excited people waiting in the living room of the Morson house, crouched behind the sofa and chairs and kitchen counters, the lights off.
"Weren't you supposed to be home a while ago?"
Mr. Morson looked at Roman, frowning now, momentarily distracted. "Who are you?"
"I'm a friend of Buzz and Willa," Roman told him. "Look, I'm going to let you in on something that's going to cheer you up. You've got to go home now. I'm not supposed to say a thing about it, but they're planning a surprise party in your honor. Zola's got the cake. Even as we speak, they are in your house, waiting for you. They have presents."
Telling this to Morson was surprisingly difficult. Roman felt the bleeding sensation of envy when he imagined stepping onto the warm, thick carpet. The blast of noise from friends. The bean soup. Beer. Cake.
Mr. Morson said nothing.
"You can't just leave them waiting there." Roman heard a note of accusing desperation in his voice.
Morson shook his head, now, as though his misery was a fall of water washing over him. His brilliant white hair lifted in the staticky air. Roman felt like reaching over and patting it down, but he kept his hand curled around his coffee cup.
"Fuck's sake, I can't go back there," said Morson wearily. "They don't know. Zola has no idea about this . . ." he waved his hand toward the casino through the glass doors of the restaurant. "I play when she's at work, when I'm supposed to be at work, except I don't have a job, see. That's over. She doesn't know I put a second mortgage on our house, a line of credit, then topped it. Cleaned out every one of our accounts." He stared fiercely, disconnectedly, at Roman. "There's nothing," he said. His mouth was suddenly and frighteningly sharklike, an impersonal black hungry v. A bubble of spit formed at either corner. "They'll take the house and then my car. They'll take her car. And Kayla . . . Oh god."
Morson dropped his face into the bowl of his hands. Roman thought he might either break down and sob or leap up and rake his fingers down the wallpaper. Which would it be? He was feeling oddly disconnected. Maybe this was the way a shrink felt, listening to the woes of a client from behind a clear shield of therapeutic immunity.
With a thick, jerky movement, T.J. Morson struck his hands together.
"I don't even smoke," he said as though appealing to Roman, "I don't drink. But this ..." again he waved at the lights and bells outside the door. "I think, I know, I had the vision or whatever, that because it was my birthday I could turn it all around if I had just, say, a couple hundred. And I knew where to get it. So today after Zola went to work and Kayla was at school, I sneaked back to the house and I searched Kayla's room. She has this little passbook savings account with me as her co-signer. But where does she keep the passbook? So I dug through the stuff in her drawers, her closets. Can you imagine this?"
Roman's mouth opened. Better than you know, he thought. But Morson went on quickly, "I found her secret things. They were under the bed, in this cigar box she had covered on top with a piece of paper. You wouldn't believe this knowing how sweet Kayla is, what a good girl. The box was labeled with a purple marker fuck with kayla and you die. Here she's a good little student, all As or Bs, never given anybody whatsoever any trouble in her life before. So this tough little message ... I mean . . ."
Morson stopped and drank some coffee.
"It got to you," said Roman.
"Yeah," said Morson. "Anyway, I took the passbook. Withdrew two hundred and eighteen dollars worth of baby-sitting money."
Roman nodded, poured another coffee for himself and stirred in three creamers. And yet, he thought. Here is a man for whom people will give a surprise party. Roman tapped the sugar packets, drank the rest of the coffee, put the money down on top of the check.
"I have to get out of here," he said to Morson, who stared at him for a moment, then widened his eyes and broke the look off with a cunning little grin.
T.J. Morson followed Roman out the door of the cafe. On the way past the banks of moving lights and bells and trilling knockers, he said, "C'mon. I hit, we'll split."
Roman kept walking. Morson grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. "Please," he said. Roman started at the sight of him. Morson's eyes were rolled back so the whites showed. His lips were drawn away from his gums in a guilty snarl. Roman felt in his pocket, flipped out a quarter. Morson opened the hand that held the car keys. Roman took the keys and gave the quarter to Morson, who played it. The two men watched the rolling tabs of symbols spin over and over, whirling, clicking into place in a disparate row.
"Okay, you satisfied?" said Roman.
Morson wiped his hands slowly on his hips and then followed Roman out the doors, across the gleaming, wet parking lot, over to the Cherokee. Roman still had the keys. He opened the doors and got into the driver's side. Passive, concentrating on something invisible just before him, Morson got into the passenger's seat and shut his eyes. But suddenly, as Roman pulled out of the parking space onto the highway, Morson mumbled "thanks anyway," and opened his door to jump out. Roman managed to hook his hand in the collar of Morson's slippery jacket, and as he brought the car to a halt on the shoulder, he yanked the man back toward him with such surprising force that Morson's face smashed into the side of the steering wheel. There was an instant and surprising amount of blood.
"Don't worry," said Morson, his nose behind his hands, "I get these things real bad." There was a girl's striped knit stocking cap in his door's side pocket. Morson grabbed it and put it to his face. Then he said, "look, I'll just go clean up." He jumped out the door with the cap on his face, and was gone.
Roman pulled ahead about thirty feet into a blind driveway and shut off the engine. He found the lever next to the seat that dropped it backwards a few inches. He rested. A peaceful energy flowed through him. He nearly slept. Fifteen minutes, then half an hour passed. Traffic flowed by, snarled behind him, flowed again. A few people crossed before him at the far edge of an overflow lot. They swiftly entered their cars and drove away. Roman dozed another ten minutes and then he suddenly snapped to. He started the car and drove off.
As he pulled back onto the highway a screeching ambulance barreled past. The casino was filled with Senior Citizens and Roman imagined a whole scenario--a big payout, an old man elated, then clutching at his heart. This fantasy gave him the idea, as he drove toward Morson's house, of something he could say to get Morson off the hook. It wasn't that he liked Morson, but his friends were so eager, so well-meaning. It wasn't right to disappoint them. Things were going to be so bad with Morson that there was no way to make them worse. Roman decided he would announce that Morson was dead. He'd use that same scenario--payout, heart attack--and then while the pandemonium of reaction occurred he'd simply disappear. When Morson finally did show up his being broke would not be quite as bad, at least, as being dead. Roman's lie would confuse the issue, muddy the waters, give Zola and the others a pause before they condemned. There seemed no harm in it as far as Roman could see, considering what Zola and Kayla were in for anyway. At least they would have the joy of having their worst fears reversed!
Roman arrived at the house and parked in the driveway--still empty in order to fool Morson into thinking that the house was deserted. Yet all the lights were on. The little house was blazing. Roman walked up the steps and then tentatively eased the door open and poked his head around the side. He remembered to set his features in a look of tragic concern. He nearly jumped back out. All of the people he'd met before were standing or sitting at attention in the living room. They returned his look with identical stares.
"We know already," said the terse old lady who'd been drinking strawberry wine coolers. "He had his I.D. right on him, phone number. Kyle took Zola to the emergency room. Zola just called two seconds ago."
"Come on in," said Buzz. "Take a load off. I'll get you a beer. In fact," he said, "let's eat. It's some kind of custom that we all should eat together at a time like this."
Roman sat down on one end of the couch, leaned back into a stiff pillow. He looked down at his knees, then accepted a bowl of bean soup when it appeared in his line of vision. The bowl was warm and pleasant in his hands.
"They told Zola that he'd crossed the casino's main intersection, running. What is that, two lanes? Not so far, really."
"Four lanes," said Roman.
"Oh," said someone, "then."
"Zola said he was not quite DOA," said Buss, "but next thing to it. There just wasn't a thing they could do."
Now the others had bowls of soup, and bread, and were busily arranging themselves, patting napkins onto their knees, balancing coffee cups, offering butter around the group.
"We shouldn't eat the cake."
"I agree," said Willa. "We should have his cake at the funeral dinner."
"Are you going to go?" She addressed Roman. He looked at her. "It can't be true!"
Willa apologized. "I've never been much for denial. I go straight to acceptance. That's just me."
"You don't need to think that far ahead," said Buzz. He touched Roman's arm. "In fact, don't think ahead at all." Buzz put down his bowl of soup and sank forward, elbows on his knees. He cupped his hands over his head and leaned over like someone about to be sick. He stayed that way, motionless. Willa put her hand on his back and patted him with slow, regular beats. She looked over at Roman.
"Go on, eat your soup," she whispered. "It's okay."
Roman placed a spoonful of the soup in his mouth. A moment passed before he realized that the taste was unusually good. Something gave depth to the taste. Roman looked at Buzz, still hunched over. His specialty, he remembered. Maybe Buzz simmered his beans with garlic, or wine, or some kind of herb. Maybe it was the sorrow, or the strangeness. Perhaps Buzz had added a few drops from a vial of Liquid Smoke. Then again a ham bone. Or the fact that these beans were all different types. Roman finished the bowl and put it down.
"You want another?" said Willa.
"It's good," Roman nodded.
She got up to refill the bowl and Roman took over patting Buzz on the back, slow and regular, two or three pats to each of his sighing breaths. He kept feeling the wrench when he'd pulled Morson toward him, in the car, the way Morson had twisted, striking the bridge of his nose. There was the weight of Morson off balance, in his arms, the smell of his hair tonic, aftershave, and the smoke of the casino and the coffee on his breath.
Now here he was eating Morson's bean soup with Morson's friends and no doubt in two or three days he would be tasting Morson's cake. Roman shut his eyes. His thoughts flickered.
"I'll be right back."
He set the beer down, got up, walked down the hall just like an old friend who knew the place. He opened the door to Kayla's room, walked in, shut the door behind him and knelt on the floor beside her bed. Reaching underneath, he groped for and found the box that he could see, once he turned on her little homework lamp, was indeed labeled fuck with kayla and you die. He handled it carefully. You shouldn't have fucked with Kayla. Psychic time bomb for the girl, though, wasn't it? Morson had replaced her little passbook. Roman flipped to the last page, then tore out a deposit slip. Same bank as his. Anyone could make a transfer, he supposed. He put the passbook back, lay the cigar box on the floor and snapped the sides flat. Then he slipped the box back underneath the bed. He walked back to the living room, passed behind an intense discussion of who should go now to the hospital, who was needed, what arrangements. In the kitchen, he paused at the sink for a drink of warmish, chemical-tasting suburb water. He set the keys to the Cherokee on the counter. Then he slipped out the back door.

Given that there are a few pitfalls when trying to get into the game, I thought it might be a good idea to give some basic advice for beginners.
(1) Decide how you want to play the game! The way I look at it, there are two main ways to experience the game. One is to survive and play through the story, taking as much time as you want. The other way is to play score-attack style and trying to get as many points as possible by completing objectives as quickly as possible on as high of a difficulty as possible. Both are perfectly viable ways to play the game, but they require very different strategies. If you are looking for a challenge: My best game so far was ~70k points within 120 Sols at 250% difficulty.
(2) You can build cables and pipes on the same tile! This might be super obvious to most people, but is actually a thing I didn't immediately realize on my first game - and it caused some major headache when I tried to find a good base layout. So don't make the same mistake - stack them.
(3) Don't create large cable and pipe networks! The larger a network becomes, the higher the chance for cable and pipe faults. Creating a massive single network for everything will cause frequent leaks, costing you resources and keeping drones needlessly busy. Don't use more cables or pipes than necessary. Also, I think you can use buildings and domes to separate your networks by connecting on one side and continuing on another access point.
(4) Make sure to bring a Transport Rover! There are plenty of surface deposits for Iron (and sometimes Polymers) on the map. They are revealed after scanning a sector and can be collected by a Transport Rover. If you use the CREATE TRANSPORTE ROUTE button (or however it is called now), the rover will even automatically go back and forth between the two selected points and gather all surface deposits within range (until there are none left). Given that manpower is in short supply throughout the early game, this is an excellent method to gather iron during the early game.
(5) A Science Rover will be quite useful! When scanning sectors you will find plenty of anomalies. Analyzing them will give you extra tech options, free research or other random benefits. Try to bring at least one science rover along if you can - it will make the early game a lot easier.
(6) Build enough depots! Make sure that you have enough depots to store goods, and make sure that they are spread out through your colony to reduce transport distances. If you have multiple drone hubs, you can place a depot in their overlapping range - this will allow your drones to more evenly distribute materials across the colony.
(7) Make sure you have enough drones! Once you have your basic infrastructure in place and start to expand your colony, you will need additional drone hubs - and more drones at existing ones.Some indicators for a lack of drones are: goods piling up, extractors stopping to work because stone isn't hauled away, rockets taking a long time to load, unload or refuel and maintenance or repairs taking longer than expected.
(8) You do not have to build dumping sites! If you do not have any designated dumping sites, your drones will just drop the stones next to the extractors. From what I noticed, this didn't seem to have any effect on performance. So if you hate the site of piles of waste rock - you don't have to suffer through that.
(9) Only build things you actually need! Buildings deteriorate and require maintenance goods, even when they are disabled or not used. So be VERY careful with what you construct during the early days of your colony - an unnecessary battery during the early game might cost you 5+ Polymers by Sol 20. Build in moderation and do not exceed your requirements (too much).Don't build that Moxxie several Sols before you ferry in first your colonists.
(10) Stirling Generators are awesome! If you play as a rich sponsor, consider bringing a few Stirling Generators. They are very costly, but a great long-term investment. While closed, they do NOT deteriorate, which means they have no maintenance cost. If you have an energy shortage, you can temporarily open them if necessary. If you are desperately short of maintenance materials, you can also cycle through them before any generator deteriorates to the point where it actually requires maintenance. Later in the game, you will acquire a technology that unlocks a building that removes maintenance cost from anything within range - with that, you can keep your Stirlings open permanently for a massive permanent energy increase.
(11) Scanners stack! Every scanner provides a massive boost to scan speed for nearby sectors, but on top of that, there are additional stackable effects: Each scanner gives a base +10% scan speed anywhere on the map and it also increases the ahead-of-time warning for disasters. If you are playing on maps with high disaster risk, consider building multiple scanners to get warnings several Sols ahead of time.
(12) Build Clinics! A clinic reduces the comfort requirement fo childbirth, which is very important in the early game since your domes usually won't be able to provide all services requested by your colonists. They are especially important if you play a sponsor that have a low amount of applicants (e.g. Europe), but even those with lots of colonists would usually prefer to ferry goods instead of people.
(13) Specialize your domes! In the early game space within the domes is scarce. Most of the time a dome will only provide enough living space for a farm and one, maybe two production buildings. A good early game layout for Small Domes in my games was: Living Quarters x3, Farm, Clinic, Grocer, Small Park, 1 production building inside + 1 production building/mine outside. If you use a small production building like the Research Lab you can add an extra Grocer and Diner.
(14) Do not use high maintenance service buildings in the early game! Buildings like the Casino, Art Workshop and Electronics Store will require a lot of advanced materials to maintain. I highly recommend to NOT use them until you have a steady production of these goods.
(15) Make sure to fully staff your production facilities! Production facilities have high upkeep - make sure you fill them to capacity to get the most out of your inputs. I had some cases where an electronic factory was actually so unproductive that it used more electronics than it produced. If your average sanity is good, feel free to also assign a night shift.
(16) Make use of the Heavy Workload option! By clicking on the little clock icon next to a shift you can set it has a HEAVY WORKLOAD shift. Workers on heavy duty will slowly lose health (restored by the clinic) and sanity (recovered by sleeping), but on the flipside, their productivity will increase significantly. Early on manpower will be your most limiting factor, and this option allows you to get the most out of your workers when you need it the most.
(17) Inhabitants from different domes can work in the same outdoor building! While people cannot use services of nearby domes, they can work collaboratively in outdoor buildings. So if you build two domes within range of a Mine, that mine can be staffed by colonists from both domes.
(18) Mines can access multiple deposits and deposits can support multiple mines! You can have 2 Rare Material Extractors for a single Rare Deposit, and you can have 1 Rare Material Extractor that draws from 2 deposits within range.
(19) Do not hire Idiots if you can avoid it! No, really. If a colonist with the Idiot trait is working in a factory, they have a chance to cause a breakdown, which will require full maintenance by a drone. Needless to say, that can be VERY costly on a lot of buildings. The trait should be filtered out by default, but double check just to be safe.
(20) Spread out production shifts on your production buildings! Most production buildings require a lot of electricity and/or water. If you are not planning on running 3 shifts, make sure you spread them out over the day to even out electricity/water demands to match your production - solar panels only work during the day, after all. This is particularly useful for farms since they only have a single shift per day.
(21) Many buildings have multiple skins! By clicking on the little brush icon on the right-hand side of the UI you can switch freely between these skins, even after construction. That does include domes.
(22) People can migrate between domes! If a dome becomes overcrowded, colonists can migrate to other domes. If another dome with living space is available in proximity they will go on foot, while long-distance migration requires Shuttles.
(23) The map view shows hints for potential deposits! When you are zoomed out to the map grid, hovering over a sector will show a tooltip that mentions which resources you are likely to find in said sector. It is not a guarantee, but a good hint where to scan first. You can even try and search for a better initial landing site by scanning a few sectors that show promises of everything if you have brought a few probes.

Evidence it was a Hollywood Set
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One of the main anomalies that leads me to believe that the Moon footage was taken on a film set is the fact that the same mountains appear on different Apollo missions which are supposed to be landed several hundreds of miles from each other.
He added: "The panorama also gives a sense of how far the mountains are. Because there is no atmosphere on the Moon, objects do not become faded-out over distance and thus far-away mountains can appear very close, as they do in the two photos." "The claim that these known and mapped Moon mountains that are viewed from myriad angles in Apollo photos are really a fake backdrop that was accidentally used in two staged studio sets on Earth is not a theory but an exercise in silliness."
slide
Slide
Van Allen Radiation Radiation plays a big part in space travel. Solar flares could have affected the astronauts at any time. The Apollo leaving Earth would travel through 2 specific areas of very high radiation called the Van Allen Belt. slide The first field is 272 miles out from Earth. The amount of radiation in the belts actually varies from year to year, but every 11 years its at its worst when the sunspot cycle is at its highest.
1969 to 1970 was one of the worst times to go, as this was the time where the radiation was at its peak. slide I have had numerous internet chats with sceptics who say that the radiation would not play a part in the missions because Man would have not been in the radiation belt for too long. My answer to that is, when Dentists or Doctors take X ray pictures they either leave the room or stand behind a sheet of thick lead to shelter from the radiation.
Why did NASA only use a small sheet of aluminium to protect the astronauts when they knew that the radiation levels in Space and on the Moon's surface would be many hundreds of times more deadly? And why would they risk their astronauts to such conditions? In 1959 Bill Kaysing was privy to a study made by the Russians. The Russians discovered that the radiation on the moon would require astronauts to be clothed in four feet of lead to avoid being killed.
Did you know that the US Government tried to blast a hole in the belt 248 miles above Earth in 1962? During Operation Starfish Prime a Megaton Nuclear Bomb was used to try and force an unnatural corridor through the Van Allen Belt... Unfortunately, the radiation levels actually got worse, not better. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFXlrn6-ypg
What they created was a third belt that was 100 times more intense than the natural belts, and as estimated by Mary Bennett in 'Dark Moon - Apollo and the Whistle-Blowers, by2002 this artificial zone will still have 25 times more radiation than the other 2 belts. There is no agreement to how wide these radiation belts actually are. Dr James Van Allen, the discoverer of the belts estimated that they were at least 64,000 miles deep, but NASA say they are only 24,000 miles deep.
Each Apollo craft spent approximately 4 hours within the belts. So to what lengths did NASA take to shield the astronauts against the radiation? Its accepted that a minimum of 10 cm width of aluminium would be needed at the very least to keep out radiation.
However the walls of the Apollo craft and capsule were made as thin and as light as possible and as a result the craft initially could not carry enough air inside to withstand the equivalent to sea level air pressure. NASA had to reduce air pressure inside the cabin to cope.
One of the worst sun flares ever recorded happened in August 1972, which was between the Apollo 16 and 17 missions. This single flare would have delivered 960 rem of virtually instant death to any astronaut who was up in Space, and yet all of the Apollo astronauts were carrying out their missions in what amounts to nothing more than a thick linen suit. These pressure suits may have helped protect the astronauts against heat or micro meteorites, but certainly would not have given any radiation protection. By the way, there is no known method of registering when and how strong Solar flare activity will be.
So, I guess NASA just struck lucky! The radiation would have greatly affected the film that was shot on the Moon. Physicist Dr David Groves Ph.D., has carried out radiation tests on similar film and found that the lowest radiation level (25 rem) applied to a portion of the film after exposure made the image on the film almost entirely obliterated. Why didn't that happen to the Apollo films? SLIDE COUNTER Charged particles are damaging to human bodies, but the amount of damage done can range from none to lethal, depending on the energy those particles deposit, the density of those particles, and the length of time you spend being exposed to them.
In the case of the Apollo missions, the solution was to minimize the second two factors. We can’t control the energy of those particles, though they can be large. The density of the Van Allen belts is well known (from sending uncrewed probes through them), and there are hotspots you can definitely avoid. In particular, the innermost belt is a rather tightly defined region, and it was possible to stay out of it for the trip to the Moon. The second belt is much larger, and harder to avoid, but there are still denser regions to avoid.
For the Apollo trips, we wanted to send the astronauts through a sparse region of the belts, and to try and get through them quickly. This was necessary in any case; the crafts had to make it to the Moon in a reasonable amount of time, and the shorter the trip, the less exposure to all sorts of radiation the astronauts would get.
In the end, it seemed that these tactics worked; the on-board dose counters for the Apollo missions registered average radiation doses to the skin of the astronauts of 0.38 rad. This is about the same radiation dose as getting two CT scans of your head, or half the dose of a single chest CT scan; not too bad, though not something you should do every week.
Slide
slide Perspective Problems/Shadows
Another example that appears to be faked is the footage of Earth taken from the Apollo 11 when it was 130,000 miles away. This is the very first view ever taken of Earth on the mission and it seems strange that Buzz Aldrin would film the Earth when he was stood far away from the window, why would he do that? Surely you would want to get close to the window to get the best picture and also to eliminate light reflections that are evident towards the end of this sequence?
But no, we see the window frame come into view on the left of the shot. The camera isn't set to infinity either to get the closest shot. The window frame that comes into shot would have been out of focus if it was. Did the astronauts actually film a transparency of the Earth that was stuck to the window?
You may think this odd, but a few minutes after filming the Earth, the cameraman adjusts his lens and focuses on Mike Collins inside the craft. What we see is what appears to be an exposure of the Earth taped to the window that is in the background to the right of him. That is the very same window that Aldrin was filming the Earth
https://youtu.be/mCHG6uJH5L8?t=60
The video also asserts that a shadow can be seen, suggesting the camera wasn’t right up on the window as claimed. The assertion is that the porthole window is why the earth looks misshapen because they are much closer to earth than they are letting on.- video has been debunked- the “secret footage” that was leaked wasn’t secret. It was released by NASA.
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WEIGHTLESSNESS
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zz9Bzi_GyD0
- this video talks about how the weightlessness was done using wires- amazing hammer and feather-that was faked somehow- the hoaxers point to a recreation done by HBO that proves Hollywood can fake it- the recreation has a cut in the middle while the original video is a straight shot- harder to fake. Also show crazy experiment that is so obviously faked
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDp1tiUsZw8
original hammer and feather http://www.clavius.org/gravleap.html
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Why does this rock have a letter 'C' on it? There is also a 'C' on the ground in front of the rock. The use of the letter C on film props is well known by the people in Hollywood and is used to show where the centre of the scene should be.
One sceptic on the Bad astronomy sceptics web group has even said it is a hair??? on both the rock and ground? Now who's trying to cover things up? If you have managed to get this far and still believe this claim, then let’s actually get to what’s really going on. Have you ever scanned or photocopied something?
If so, you know that any little piece of dirt, hair, dust, or whatever that gets between your original and your imaging device will show up in the copy. That is what happened in the case of the infamous “C” rock – a hair (such as an eyelash) or a small piece of lint got caught between the image and the imager when they were making copies of it. Plain and simple.
In the original photograph (closeup shown below), there is no “C.”
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In western Australia during the live broadcast of the Apollo 11 moon landing, several people saw a very unusual occurrence. One viewer, Una Ronald watched the telecast and was astonished with what she saw. The residents of Honeysuckle Creek, Australia, actually saw a different broadcast to the rest of the World. Just shortly before Armstrong stepped onto the Moons surface, a change could be seen where the picture goes from a stark black to a brighter picture.
Honeysuckle Creek stayed with the picture and although the voice transmissions were broadcast from Goldstone, the actual film footage was broadcast from Australia. As Una watched Armstrong walking on the surface of the Moon she spotted a Coke bottle that was kicked in the right hand side of the picture. This was in the early hours of the morning and she phoned her friends to see if they had seen the same thing, unfortunately they had missed it but were going to watch the rebroadcast the next day. Needless to say, the footage had been edited and the offending Coke bottle had been cut out of the film.
But several other viewers had seen the bottle and many articles appeared in The West Australian newspaper. Western Australia received their coverage in a different way to the rest of the World. They were the only Country where there wasn't a delay to the 'live' transmission. slide
Counter Clavius researcher Peter Barrett examined surviving copies of The Western Australian dating to the time in question and failed to find any mention whatsoever of Coke bottles in the moonwalk telecast.
SLIDE
SO HOW DID THEY DO IT, IF THIS IS ALL FAKE?
Kubrick Connection 2001 A Space Odyssey was filming in the summer of 1965 when the Apollo missions were in the midst of final planning of the missions to come. slide Filming would continue for another 2.5 years and the budget ballooned from 6 million dollars to 10.5 million. The assumption here is that some of the 205 reported special effects shots were filmed for the US Government and they paid 4.5 million for them as a cover.
The moon landing would be shot by Kubrick using the movie as a disguise. Over 70 corporations and government institutions were consulted for the film- again the cover of the movie allowed for various pieces of input on how the moon landing should look. slide Also the film was crucial to preparing Americans as to how space exploration should look. It set the expectation so all the government had to do was film the landing in accordance with those expectations that they themselves set.
Kubrick confessed his (forced) involvement in the moon landing hoax of Apollo 11, two decades later. He did this by making deliberate changes in Stephen King’s original novel. slide The main character in this story, named Jack (played by Jack Nicholson), represents the part of Kubrick that was forced to direct the staged moon landing.
His inner creative child wanted to rebel against this scam. Jack’s son Danny represents this rebellious voice within Kubrick. slide Therefore, in the film, Jack is warned about Danny’s plan to involve an external party, namely the audience. slide In King’s novel, room 217 was the scary hotel room. Kubrick changed this number to 237, as the (in those days) commonly used distance between Luna and Terra was (about) 237,000 miles. slide
At a certain moment in the film, Danny is playing in the hallway. When he stands up, the Apollo 11 on this jumper symbolically lifts off, and goes into room No. 237. This room represents the film studio where the fake moon landing was staged. His visit of this room No. 237 wounded Danny, meaning that the artist Kubrick was damaged by this Apollo 11 scam.
Later on, Jack also enters room No. 237. At first Jack sees temptation, before he realizes that he was actually caught in a horror. By this shocking scene in this film, Kubrick confessed that the huge budget for making his space odyssey film seemed very sexy at the beginning, before he realized how horrifically ugly the Apollo 11 scam really was.
Further on in the film, Jack’s wife discovered that Jack had been writing the same sentence over and over again, for many dozens of pages. That remarkable sentence, which only briefly appears in King’s original novel, was: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy The first three symbols of this proverb are used by Kubrick as a hidden reference to the abbreviation of the Apollo 11 project: A11.
Danny wears an Apollo 11 sweater (1); Room 237 (2) represents the moon-landing stage where Kubrick supposedly worked—the moon is about 237,000 miles from Earth; the prevalence of Tang cans (3) (created for astronauts) in the hotel’s pantry; the pattern on the carpet (4) where Danny plays matches that of Launch Pad 39A, from which the Apollo rocket took off. https://youtu.be/E1NsA\_FdbHg?t=69 bathtub scene
Kubrick apparently experienced directing the Apollo 11 scam as boring work. In the film, he therefor makes Jack play with a tennis ball, instead of attending to his creative (writing) work. By choosing King’s “The Shining”, Kubrick found exactly the right storyline to make his hidden confession about his involvement in the staged moon landing of Apollo 11.
On top of that, the numerological “coincidences” are that the value of “Jack” is 7 (representing the control freaks), and the value of “Danny” is 22, meaning communication!
SLIDE
PHOTOGRAPHY FILM
THE VEGAS CONNECTION AKA HOW TO PULL IT ALL OFF Once the decision to simulate all moon voyages was made, NASA and the Defense Intelligence Agency moved swftly. A code name was created : ASP (Apollo Simulation Project), and the effort was divided into the following tasks : 1. Secret top level organization and management 2. Intensive security, including counter-intelligence 3. Undercover procurement of personnel 4. Clandestine equipment design, manufacture, installation and operation 5. Coverup communications, including wiretaps and taping 6. Covert planning and special projects (Aerospace "plumbers")
it was no accident that the ASP base was located 32 miles east of Mercury, Nevada. The land surrounding the base has long been controlled by the U.S. Air Force and the Atomic Energy Commission - a double threat to any Interlopers. In this view of the region it may be seen that any trespassers would show up instantly on the screens of the constantly-on TV monitors. Also, control of personnel through the few checkpoints could be accomplished with efficiency and dispatch.
The Mercury ASP base was desirable from a number of security-related standpoints:
Strange shipments could be delivered inside trucks marked with the dreaded "radiation" sign.
Staff could come and go via the heavily guarded airfield. An elaborate warning-wave-off radioradar protection system prevented any private planes from using the field except for dire emergencies. Even then, strangers were prevented from actually seeing anything of a compromising nature.
Odd noises, weird devices, excavations were permissible since no outsiders had visual or audio
Coded communications could be made by regular or incredibly high frequency microwave radio.
Slide
Tensions could be relieved by making the less-than-one-hour trip to Las Vegas, a 24-hour-a-day, seven-days-a-week, anything-goes resort boasting more than 30 large casinos. Last but far from least, a liason was established with the hidden rulers of Las Vegas, the crime organization chieftans. When needed, services could be exchanged on a mutually beneficial basis, Le., large sums of money for use of expert "button men".
The Cosa Nostra staff presented no problems for ASP Security; they had centuries of practice in remaining silent. U.S.-Mafia criminal cooperation was hardly new. Mafia chieftans aided American troops. During the invasion of Sicily during WWII
Staffing ASP was not as difficult as it might appear to the layman. First, everyone has a price although sometimes the price is one's life. Notwithstanding diehards, recruiting of ASP people went swingingly. People love to know secrets and they also love to have lots of money to spend. ASP provided both.
Salaries of $50,000 for minor technicians were not uncommon. We have deleted the pay of higher staff personnel out of sympathy for the taxpayer who might be reading this chapter. In addition to salaries, expense accounts for "rest and relaxation" were virtually unlimited. It is interesting to note that during the build-up of ASP facilities near Mercury, income for many of the Las Vegas casinos hit new highs. Three major categories of ASP personnel existed:
Top level management, including DIA and supplemental agency support.
Interface personnel, many on "need to know" basis.
The astronauts themselves.
Recruiting of the first two categories was done on a money first, patriotism second, basis. It was eminently successful. More descretion was required in obtaining the cooperation of astronauts.
Slide
For these dedicated and brave men, the following arguments were used: A. The moon mission was tremendously important to the continuance of the United States as a (or THE) power in political, military, scientific and technical areas.
B. Billions of dollars and several lives had been spent so far; to scratch the mission at this point (1983) would be disastrous to the administration from a public relations standpoint. NASA was in the same position as a Vegas gambler who is in too deep to quit. (NASA's self-interest was also a strong influence:
it is a truism that all bureaucracies seek to expand or at least perpetuate themselves.)
C. There would be no danger since the men would not exit the earth's gravitational field.
D. Fame and fortune would be theirs, tarnished only slightly by the fact that the voyage would be illusionary.=
E. Intimations that refusal could bring reprisals ranging from demotion to in-flight "accidents". There was no need to remind the candidated of the eight astronauts who had died accidently during the early phases of Apollo slide
NOTE: Thomas R. Baron, an employee of North American Aviation, Apollo's prime contractor, submitted a 500 page report on the inadequacies of the program following the fatal fire on Pad 34. Shortly thereafter, Baron was killed when his car apparently stalled in front of a locomotive. In addition to these cogent persuasions, the men approached had lifetime histories of obedience. All were or had been in the armed forces and were accustomed to accepting assignments regardless of risk or rather, in spite of risk. Most pilots are extroverted, game-playing individuals. Thus, it was a relatively simple matter to train the astronauts to play their respective roles in the high drama of ASP.
slide
Once a base was established and security ineffect, the preparation of simulation equipment could begin. A complete set of the moon was built in an underground cavern at the ASP base. Every location that would be used for landings was created in exact detail. This elaborate sound stage was code named Copernicus, after one of the lunar craters.
It soon earned the name "Cuss" because of problems in lighting and sound. In addition, scale models of the earth, sun, moon and other bodies were carefully built and mounted within a planetarium-like device so that they could be positioned and photographed with accuracy, repeatability and believability. The underground sound stage resembled those at a major Hollywood studio complete with overhead catwalks for lighting, camera dolly tracks and other basic filming and TV equipment.
In addition, there was a plethora of special effects tools, including high intensity lighting to imitate the harsh glare of sunlight on the airless moonscape. All scenes of the Lunar Excursion Module (LEM)were filmed on this set with the astronauts as "stars". There were no more problems than would appear during the filming of "Star Trek", "2001, A Space Odyssey", or "Silent Running".
After all, Hollywood grips and gaffers, cameramen and directors had acquired long experience in science fiction film production. A plus for the project was the advantage of filming silent. All voices and equipment sounds were dubbed in by an elaborate sound creation and dubbing studio immediately adjacent to the moon set.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJSvQ80p1ks
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VISUAL PRESENTATIONS Hair-raising for the simulators but most convincing to the public were the launches. After all, if people could drive to the Cape, park and see an immense rocket lift itself off the pad, was this not the ultimate proof that a trip was, indeed, being made to the moon itself? The fact that once out of sight, the vehicle traveled a sub-orbital trajectory to the south polar sea (and jettisoned), did not diminish in any way the blazing glory of the launch to the moon.
The return to the earth by the astronauts in their re-entry module was far less risky than the launch. This was true since it waseffected by dropping the module from a C-5A cargo plane. Just prior to this drop, they were picked up at a super-secret, well camouflaged island south of Hawaii. It is interesting to note that the module was always dropped out of sight of the carrier's crew.
Had the simulators desired, it would have been possible to drop the module into the Pacific from a far-ranging nuclear submarine. However, the plan method was chosen since it required a smaller crew "in the know" and ease of security that evolves from a hidden air base (Tauramoto Archipelago.)
They are then flown back and sent to Las Vegas to party for two days then flown to the live set to do a taping of the moon landing with kubrick (why do this live?)
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John G Trump is Donald Trumps Uncle and was the guy who examined Teslas papers at Teslas death! Trump was at MIT working on all types of radiation and atomic stuff! He died in 1985 the year Back to the Future was released . http://www.nytimes.com/1985/02/26/us/john-trump-dies-engineer-was-78.html
From the tesla wikipedia page
At http://wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikola_Tesla
Quote

Tesla's entire estate from the Hotel New Yorker and other New York City hotels was transported to the Manhattan Storage and Warehouse Company under the Office of Alien Property (OAP) seal.[25] John G. Trump, a professor at M.I.T. and a well-known electrical engineer serving as a technical aide to the National Defense Research Committee, was called in to analyze the Tesla items in OAP custody.[25] After a three-day investigation, Trump's report concluded that there was nothing which would constitute a hazard in unfriendly hands, stating:
[Tesla's] thoughts and efforts during at least the past 15 years were primarily of a speculative, philosophical, and somewhat promotional character often concerned with the production and wireless transmission of power; but did not include new, sound, workable principles or methods for realizing such results.[155]
In a box purported to contain a part of Tesla's "death ray", Trump found a 45-year-old multidecade resistance box.[156]

By the way Donald Trumps dad is tied to Nikola Tesla in a http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ElO5W7iEW8c youtube documentary i just happened to stumble on while searching for Trump news after having searched for Tesla previously and not erasing the search box. Tesla was heavily into some alien quantum communication claims and if Trumps dad knew him then Trump might have had some future knowledge that helped him get rich. Remember in the Back to the Future movies (which have some weird 9/11 references as discussed here https://www.reddit.com/conspiracy/comments/3nemq8/back_to_the_future_predicted_911/ ) Biff is a real estare casino owning mogul who makes a fortune in the future because he has the book that shows info from the future. Is Trump mentioned by name in the movies somehow? Very strange.
Ok here is fhe description section under the youtube vidoe.
Published on Sep 16, 2015Donald Trump & John G Trump - FBI Files on Nikola Tesla's Missing Papers + Einstein & Edison Debunked tags: iran deal, nuclear power valuable, nuclear bombs hoax, Israel, cnn, fox, abc, cbs, msnbc, rt, young turks, presidential debate 2015, 2016 candidates, marco Rubio, chris Christie, ben carson, jeb bush, scott walker, mike Huckabee, ben carson, ted cruz, carlie Fiorina - Nikola Tesla & Donald Trump & George HW Bush Connection w/ Teleforce from Tesla's FBI File PART 1 of 3 -- Donald Trump admits his uncle John G Trump is the one who may have seen Nikola Tesla's Death Ray/Peace Ray/Teleforce, Missile Shield, Worldwide Wireless Energy & The Automaton left in Tesla's (MULTI-DECADE MULTI-METER RESISTANCE-BOX (PANDORA'S BOX)) -- Exposing Nuclear Power and/or Danger Hoax, & Nuclear Bomb Hoax, Teleforce, Tesla's FBI File, George Herbert Walker Scherff Jr (Curious George)'s High Tension Radiant Beams, destruction of Tesla's Labs & Towers, potential Castration (Self Immolation), his Torture and Assassination by the conspirators with the CIA's Assassination Gun, declassified in 1973. https://face book.com/video.php?v=536942209793412 -- Although the Discovery Channel admits Tesla died of a heart attack, the assassination gun leaving no trace, Tesla still had a closed-casket at his Eulogy. Nikola Tesla's Eulogy by NY Mayor Laguardia https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNDzISgEU3s and his conspirator Louis Adamic (who sent the letter to the FBI January 4th 1943, the Thursday before the Weekend of Tesla's Assassination) -- Tesla's FBI File in HD for Download: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjbK1viXTdo -- Teleforce https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teleforce -- Death Ray https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_ray -- Wireless Power http://peswiki.com/index.php/Directory:Wireless_Transmission_of_Electricity -- July 2015 Directed Energy Weapons http://www.nationaldefensemagazine.org/archive/2015/july/pages/directedenergyweaponswilltheyeverbeready.aspx Tesla Patents in HD featuring Google CEO Larry Page -- https://www.face book.com/100004329120838/videos/vb.100004329120838/482652491889051/ -- DONALD TRUMP's uncle John G Trump of M.I.T & National Defense Research Committee was called in to analyze Nikola Tesla's 80 Trunks of Inventions, Paperwork, Safe, 30 Barrels in Storage a 45 year "Multi-Decade Resistance Box" from rooms 3327-8 & hidden room/s. http://wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikola_Tesla -- In 1944, Trump was riding into liberated Paris next to Eisenhower -- Feb 26 1985 JOHN G TRUMP DIES; ENGINEER WAS 78 http://nytimes.com/1985/02/26/us/john-trump-dies-engineer-was-78.html -- Tesla's FBI file confirms on Jan 7th 1943, he had COMPLETED and PERFECTED Wireless Transmission of Electrical Power & Death Ray/Peace Ray. FBI believes the notes, experiments, designs and formula were within Tesla's personal effects. FBI also knew that Tesla has conceived of a revolutionary type of Torpedo that is presently not in use by other nations. FBI confirms that Tesla's personal effects, safe, trunks, deposit box and storage unit had been pillaged by the FBI, John G Trump, Defense Department... The FBI still claims to this day that they don't have any of these documents other than what was given to the Department of Alien Property by 1953. http://www.pbs.org/tesla/ll/fbi_01.html -- In 1954, a George Herbert Walker Scherff Jr, the son of Nikola Tesla's assistant, sends a letter to the FBI about Tesla's "High Tension Radiant Beams" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kblh5jaik3o -- NIKOLA TESLA'S FBI FILES CONFIRM TESLA'S INVENTIONS ARE HELD UNDER NATIONAL SECURITY AND THE EXISTENCE OF TESLA'S 1937 "DYNAMIC THEORY OF GRAVITY" http://uncletaz.com/library/scimath/tesla/teslafbi1.html -- The players are: Sava Kosanovich ,Tesla’s nephew, George Clark, Head of the RCA Laboratorium, Kenneth Sweezey , Science Author, Bloyce Fitzgerald , Scientist, John G Trump, Head of Div 14 at the OSRD, George Willis, Naval Intelligence, Abraham Spanel, International Latex Corporation. http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread778810/pg1 -- Nikola Tesla's "Teleforce" based on a completely new set of physics different than his wireless power system http://www.teslasociety.com/deathray.htm
From the tesla wikipedia page
At http://wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikola_Tesla
Quote

Tesla's entire estate from the Hotel New Yorker and other New York City hotels was transported to the Manhattan Storage and Warehouse Company under the Office of Alien Property (OAP) seal.[25] John G. Trump, a professor at M.I.T. and a well-known electrical engineer serving as a technical aide to the National Defense Research Committee, was called in to analyze the Tesla items in OAP custody.[25] After a three-day investigation, Trump's report concluded that there was nothing which would constitute a hazard in unfriendly hands, stating:
[Tesla's] thoughts and efforts during at least the past 15 years were primarily of a speculative, philosophical, and somewhat promotional character often concerned with the production and wireless transmission of power; but did not include new, sound, workable principles or methods for realizing such results.[155]
In a box purported to contain a part of Tesla's "death ray", Trump found a 45-year-old multidecade resistance box.[156]

John G Trump is Donald Trumps uncle
The alien office doesnt mean outerspace. It means immigrant although Tesla DID claim he could communicate with space beings with his equipment.
By the way trumps uncle worked in the same field of high voltage electrostatics were others like tt brown in california in the 60's had already used to make disks fly witbout combustion motors and ehere he claimed to have been able to distort time. Brownes daughter actually did a ama on reddit. https://np.reddit.com/conspiracy/comments/1y04a0/i_am_linda_brown_the_daughter_of_the_physicist/

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