Imagine the day we’re all waiting for: when a human first steps onto Mars. It’s destined to be a mind-blowing moment for science, likely surpassing even the legendary moon landing. But, hang on—what if Mars has already had its first visitors, and not the kind you might expect? Picture this: the CIA and the U.S. military believe they’ve already made it there, courtesy of psychics. Yep, no rockets involved—just a dash of mind-bending paranormal activity.

Rewind to the intense days of the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union. Beyond the typical spy games and the airborne espionage missions, both countries engaged in some downright bizarre projects. Ever heard of the CIA’s Operation Acoustic Kitty? Sounds like a top-secret code for a rock band, but it was far stranger. The CIA decided to implant a mic in a cat’s ear and a transmitter near its skull, hoping to eavesdrop on conversations near a Soviet compound in Washington, D.C. But instead of uncovering secrets, the unlucky feline met its end with a taxi. The operation—a hefty $20 million and one feline life down the drain.

But that’s just the tip of the quirky iceberg. Across the ocean, the Soviets were trying their hand at canine mind control through low-frequency radio waves, aiming to steer the actions of dogs.

Now, cue 1972, and the U.S. intelligence community is buzzing over a classified report. The Soviets, it seems, were splurging on researching ESP, mind reading, and even telekinesis to aid their espionage efforts. This report triggered a bit of a panic stateside, with the CIA rushing to get the green light (and funds) for their psychic experiments. Of course, they got it.

By the end of the year, secret facilities sprouted up nationwide, nestled within them were recruits boasting ESP abilities. Remote viewing was the hot ticket—a psychic’s ability to visualize far-off locations from a distance. The skeptics would have to stomach it because, surprisingly, some psychics delivered results. Believe it or not, in 1976, a CIA experiment involved a psychic named Rosemary Smith, who accurately pointed out where a Russian bomber had crashed in the Congo.

The CIA, tickled with success, pulled all its various psychic experiments into one central hub at Fort Meade in Maryland, dubbing it Project Stargate. This project ran until 1995, becoming something of a legend in the intelligence community, especially after being exposed on an episode of Nightline. Over 23 years, remote viewers were tasked with countless missions—from sketching out secret Soviet bases to locating hostages in Italy and even forecasting eventual attacks like those on the World Trade Center.

In yet another astonishing feat, during one mission in 1989, remote viewer Angela Ford single-handedly leveled the playing field between the bizarre and the plausible. When asked to find a runaway customs agent’s location, she cited “Lowell Wyoming.” There was no Lowell, Wyoming, but there was a “Lovell,” and the agent was indeed hiding there.

And then there was Joe McMoneagle. His story packs a punch. Joe, an Army intelligence officer who once nearly met his end in Vietnam, survived a helicopter crash only to emerge claiming newfound psychic abilities. Between 1978 and 1984, McMoneagle wasn’t just a member; he was a star player for Project Stargate. Among hundreds of missions stood one from May 22, 1984, where he was tasked with something far out—literally. Sitting with a researcher, he was handed a sealed envelope and given geographic coordinates, asked to describe what he ‘saw.’

Joe’s jaw-dropping revelations involved seemingly ancient structures and tall, shadowy beings. When the envelope was revealed, it contained nothing other than the inscription: the planet Mars, 1 million years BC. Wild, right?

These accounts, while sounding out there, are backed by an overwhelming 12 million pages in a CIA document dump on Project Stargate and related psychic endeavors. While skepticism gets a seat at the table, what stands out is the U.S. government’s clear interest in the powers of the mind. Despite the shutdown in the ’90s, the story didn’t end. By 2014, the Office of Naval Research was exploring a sailor’s sixth sense, among other projects.

Interest in the unknown remains, especially from figures like Dr. Edwin May, former Stargate head, who insists on the credibility and military usefulness of ESP. But whether one sees this as wisdom or whimsy, the quirky allocation of taxpayer dollars suggests it’s not off the table for government bills filled with peculiar studies—like that $27 million Moroccan pottery project or the $600,000 spent on understanding why chimps go about throwing poop.

In the end, whether these unconventional experiments lead somewhere fruitful or merely remain intriguing tales of scientific ambition, they’re part of a mosaic of curiosity, research, and perhaps, a dash of governmental audacity. So as long as intelligence agencies and the U.S. Congress keep the funds flowing, these bizarre stories will likely continue to enrich our understanding of what’s out there—or up there—in more ways than one.