Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) (16 page)

Mitchell
flexed a hand cramped from gripping the steering wheel.
What if they already
had? What if the leak would now prevent them from repowering the object?
He
was damn certain there were those in power who were cold, but not for rational,
scientific reasons. They were cold because they wanted a better world for the
chosen few.
They might easily sacrifice the many while hiding away in
some bunker like guiltless human squirrels, biding their time, gnawing at their
supply of nuts, waiting for black skies to dissipate so they might show their
traitorous faces to the Earth once more.

Mitchell
adjusted the rearview mirror to better see the backseat occupants. “Tell me
more, guys. You’ve got me intrigued.”

Gavin
punched Darian in the arm. “Okay, if I continue, oh wise one?”

Darian
responded in kind. “Yes, prove to us that you can
really
read.”

Gavin
cleared his throat. “A scientist named Joshua Gulick posits the caduceus is an
archaic blueprint for an infinitely resonant device to project fourth
dimensional waves. We all know the fourth dimension represents time, uh, don’t
we, Darian?”

“Come on,
Gavin, remember the fate of the world hangs in the balance,” Evan said, his
tone dripping with mockery. “For the benefit of the group, please remain on
point.”

“Okay,”
Gavin responded. “Then what if this fourth dimension affects three-dimensional
space and everything in it, including humans and animals? At least that’s what
Gulick proposes. If he’s right, the light weapon might also affect the animals,
bugs, and the very planet itself. The staff of Hermes, which might also
represent the staff of the caduceus, was said to have anesthetic properties. I
think that means that if you can affect the firing of neurons with the
staff—with great precision—you could create alpha and theta states
in the minds of an entire populace. Does this verify what Galloway later
charged, that the enemy aliens would use mind control? Or does this simply
mean, the caduceus, representing our energy weapon, might simply be used to
heal, because these same frequencies might also destroy bacteria. So if this
weapon is some kind of a plague, it is a very complex one; on one hand it
infects the victim with light but also might heal. It’s all about perspective.
You might be able to walk on water and feel like a kid—forever—but
you just might be under the thumb of an intergalactic race of beings hell bent
on mining Earth’s final resources. Take your pick, gentlemen.”

Evan
applauded. “Very good, Gavin. I like how you presented both sides of the coin,
so to speak.”

Darian
grumbled. “No one seemed to appreciate that when I tried. Well,” he sighed,”
like anything else, presentation is key, so kudos, Gavin. May the best-dressed,
well-spoken candidate fool the mass populace yet again.”

“Come on,”
Mitchell retorted. “Stop being so snark, Darian. I know you know what that
means, by the way, even if it isn’t yet considered a real word in Webster’s
universe. Anyway, I’m sure you used some presentation skills with DJ. She seems
quite
smitten
with you.”

“Uh, huh,”
Darian responded. “I will admit she does like me for my mind. He waited a long
moment and then gushed. Who wouldn’t?” Darian’s forthcoming burst of laugher
was cathartic for everyone. The last hours of tension had been rough on
everyone. Mitchell was glad his team could release some nervous energy. Evan’s
map projected they would arrive at the Hopi Nation in mere hours. Then, that
pressure cooker would be firing on all pistons once again.

H
IGHWAY
160
led the
team through flat, brown and red land. It sparked thoughts of his “mind meld”
with Galloway. The alien’s home world was barren and ruddy much like the
territory to either side of the vehicle, which fortunately had pavement to keep
it on a steady course.

Mitchell had
to wonder about Chaco. The land was once home to the ancient tribe of Anasazi,
thought to be ancestors of the Hopi. But now it was in ruins. And during the
Anasazi occupation, it wasn’t exactly the kind of place thriving with
vegetation. Even their staple, corn, was quite difficult to cultivate. So, how
did the Anasazi survive in this barren world? It gave him hope that there
really was some type of ancient power source, contained within the ruins. Maybe
it somehow gave the ancients sustenance. Or, quite possibly, his mind was
running amok. These kinds of thoughts were not those of serious scientists, he
concluded.

If Iris were here, she would remind him of that; most
likely she would reprimand him as well. He suddenly felt homesick. Colorado was
now his home. He entertained thoughts of beginning a relationship with someone
like Iris; a woman who might not believe his every thought, but would be there
to keep him in check. He respected her and her fiery constitution. She hadn’t
backed down or excused her reasoning. She had held firm even when her own team
swayed to his line of thought. But was he really correct? No way to find out
with theorizing. He would take that leap. It might even kill him, because if
what Galloway charged was true, those who received regular inoculations might
not survive the change. Damn it! What kind of a quest was he on? One where he
could die, knowing in the end that he had been correct? Was this worth a life?
He would likely sacrifice any future he might have with Iris in this quest.
What he now dubbed:
The Change
would make sure of that. It seemed rapid
evolution didn’t give a damn about love. It was cold, rational, and logical;
mostly, it was detached. No emotionalism. Was life worth living without
emotion? Even he could see through his short sightedness, that ultimately he
longed to find a human connection after he proved—to the world, no
less—aliens really existed. What irony—seeking aliens over the
course of a lifetime only to desire a human connection in the end.

M
ITCHELL
LOWERED
his head in a bow, then he thought better of it. He was
already underwater, so to speak. He wished he knew more about the Hopi. Maybe
Gavin should have been reading a Hopi history book to him instead of analyzing
the caduceus. Regardless, he already appeared to have done a good job at
offending the tribal council of the Hopi Nation. He didn’t even know the proper
gesture to indicate how sorry he was. He stood side by side with Evan, a crowd
of onlookers were seated behind, and in front was the Hopi Council, a board of
seven. The room was modestly constructed, but it still felt like a courtroom to
Mitch because of its decorations. Eyes on the paintings seemed to be watching.

Mitchell’s
major mistake was to equate the Hopi with the Anasazi. According to Evan, many
believed the two peoples shared a connection, albeit a somewhat disconnected
one that spanned centuries. At least he knew enough to refer to aliens as “Star
People.” But apparently the Hopi man he addressed was not impressed.

When Bill,
the apparent elder of the tribal council, remarked that Mitchell’s Anasazi were
“enemy” ancestors, Mitchell knew he had erred. Dressed in a blue shirt and
shorts, Bill didn’t give the appearance of an elder or one who sat on a tribal
council. The only thing connecting him to this reality was a pendant he wore
with some sort of serpent etched on it. It was his tone that put Mitchell in
his humble place.

Bill spoke
deliberately and directly, in a volume loud enough to fill the conference-like
room he was seated in. Much like the teams’ conference table, the elders sat
behind their table, the object lending support to their leadership. The room,
at least two times larger than Iris’s living room, also projected a sense of
authority. Pictures of Mesa Verde and Chaco Canyon hung on the wall behind the
elders. A small contingent of Hopi, many Mitchell surmised to be in their
twenties, sat on folding chairs behind Mitchell.

Evan stole a
glance at Mitchell, who suppressed a laugh with a cough. It was though the two
were standing before some alter. Knowing Evan’s warped sense of humor, Mitchell
pictured them as a couple, possibly on some rite of passage. At this juncture,
Mitchell really wanted to emphasize that he and Evan were friends and that each
preferred the company of females when not traipsing about the desert seeking
proof of aliens.

“Excuse me,
Bill. Again, as I stated before, we stand before you with the deepest respect
for your culture . . .”

“But how can
that be?” Bill asked, he folded his arms across his chest. “You do not even
know that we refer to the Anasazi as the Hisatsinom.” Bill cocked his head.
“You may also refer to them as ‘Ancestral Puebloan Peoples.’ We are happy to
educate.” Bill smiled for the first time.

Mitchell
clasped his hands together. “I appreciate that. But what we are here for also
correlates to the beings you term as ‘Star People.’ In an indirect manner, we
have been visited by such a presence. And this presence requires our assistance
to protect our world from an end time.”

“This star
person asserts a cataclysmic event is about to take place?” Bill asked, arms
still folded across his chest.

“That is
correct. There are . . . other Star People who want to
manipulate us for their own survival. You see how
important . . .” Mitchell stumbled on his word choice.

Bill barked
a laugh. “Come now. I think you have been deceived. In all the stories from the
ancestors, they never once refer to a star person who requires our assistance.
In fact, we do nothing but accept whatever our fate may be. The end time that
you refer to is nothing new. The world has ended four times previously. It is
our belief a fifth ending will come, but we have not experienced a signal. I
think your star person may be false.”

“But,” Evan
stated, “circumstances beyond the Star People’s control may have transpired.
You must consider that the Star People incorporate technology to accomplish
some of their amazing feats. Unfortunately, some of this technology has failed
and needs repair. But the star person has passed. He has crossed from the land
of the living and has no means to repair this error. It is why he needs—”

Bill waved a
hand, then he paused while some noise erupted from the Hopi youngsters. When it
subsided, he clasped his hands before him.

“I apologize
now for
our
behavior.” Bill glared past Mitchell into the young Hopi
faces. “The council is certain a sign will appear. Blue light, possibly from an
astronomical event, will shine clearly when the fifth end time nears. It is
when the Kachina will remove his ceremonial mask and make it known to all.
There can be no misinterpretation, no doubt.”

Evan, in an
effort to save face, conversed with Bill, noting the Blue Star
Kachina—for Mitchell’s benefit—was a dancing god dressed in a
special blue costume. The dancer would signify the appearance of a blue star,
thought to be a symbol of the end.

Bill nodded.
“Yes, I am glad
you
understand.” He shifted his focus back to Mitchell
and fell silent.

Evan
hastened a reply. “Yes, symbolism, it’s very interesting. Did you know the
caduceus is thought to represent a serpent, possibly Quetzalcoatl or
Kulkulcan.”

Bill nodded.
“They are one and the same. As indicated on my necklace. Your
point . . .”

“Yes, it is
thought that the caduceus—or the feathered serpent—might represent
an ending. But in this instance, the ending may also bring about change. It
could mean the next evolution of humankind. If we are not approaching the fifth
time, maybe the star person warns of another kind of event. One in which some
survive.”

“It would
seem,” Bill concluded, “you do not need our assistance. I think you have it all
figured out.” Bill nodded.

“No, sir,
um, Bill,” Evan intervened. “We don’t have it all figured out because we need
direction. We need a guide to find our way in Chaco. Maybe the star person came
to us indirectly because he couldn’t find the Hopi in his new state. I think
the star person implanted the notion that we required your assistance. We are
here, because of him.”

Bill
motioned for the other elders to confer. They whispered among themselves for a
short time.

“It is
decided,” Bill stated. “The Hopi Nation cannot assist you in your quest. We
have deemed it false. We hope you go in peace and resist the intentions of this
false star person.”

M
ITCHELL
TRUDGED
, his feet giving rise to dust clouds. Yes, he thought,
things were definitely clouded. He had left the building without the aid he so
desperately needed. Evan patted his shoulder. It didn’t make him feel any
better. He felt guilty he had taken Evan from his job. Now, he would have to
face Gavin and Darian and feel even worse about his failure.

Mitchell bit
his lower lip as he slid into the driver’s seat. How could he tell Gavin and
Darian he had failed? They were chattering behind him. He couldn’t hear every
word but they were certainly asking questions. His head was spinning; possibly
a lack of sleep, the change in altitude, and the bitter slap of defeat
conspiring to knock him to the mat. He turned to look at Evan for assistance,
and it was at that moment his heart nearly stopped altogether.

Someone was
pounding on his window.
Great,
Mitchell thought.
The Hopi Nation
probably wants to reprimand us further.
He pushed the power window button
and scowled as brutal heat swarmed toward him like angry bees. “We don’t want
any trouble. We’re leaving,” Mitchell stated. He perused the twenty-something
man eyeing him. The young man was probably no older than Darian. His eyes were
nearly bulging out of their sockets. He was practically running in place.
What
does he want?

“Please, Mr.
Mitchell, uh. Is that your name?” the boy asked. Then he turned away to look
behind him. As he did, Mitchell started the engine.

“Yes, I’m
Mitchell. How can we help you? Is there something wrong?” Mitchell peered
behind the boy, wondering if someone was chasing him, or maybe chasing
them
.
But there wasn’t anyone there.

“No. I mean,
there could be. Can I please get in? We can talk in your vehicle.”

Mitchell
turned to Evan who shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we should let him in,” he
advised Mitchell.

The boy
slipped into the backseat alongside Gavin. He then tapped Mitchell’s headrest.
“Let’s go.”

Mitchell
accelerated and spun the SUV in the opposite direction. “Okay, happy now? How
about giving us your name.” Mitchell squinted to view the boy in the rearview
mirror.

“I am Rusty.
I am sorry for alarming you. I was at the meeting. I wanted to help you.” He
paused to catch his breath. “I had to make a quick decision. I’m afraid I had
only my instinct to guide me.”

Evan
laughed. “Is that so? Imagine, using your gut to guide you?”

Mitchell
waved his hand in the rearview to grab Rusty’s attention. “He’s just messing
with you. We came here because we had a feeling. We believed we needed to take
action. But as you can tell, we are woefully unprepared to accomplish our
task.”

“I think you
are correct. About your task, I mean. I respect Bill as a leader and person.
But you had a good point about the technology.”

Gavin and
Darian traded glances confused about what had transpired at the meeting.
Mitchell observed them in the mirror.

“Guys, as
you may have gathered, the Hopi Nation ‘officially’ refused to aid us. But, I
think Rusty is willing to assist us via other channels. Is that correct,
Rusty?”

Rusty
nodded. “I guess so if other channels means me.” Everyone laughed.

Evan shifted
in his seat to meet Rusty’s eyes. “Tell us more about your point. You were
saying something about the technology.”

“I don’t
think we can simply rely on the Kachina as a sole guide. I believe humans have
manipulated technology over time. And because they have, it is conceivable it
has failed them. I also believe, that maybe, the scope of failure is so large
it will be catastrophic, akin to an end time or apocalypse. It is why we must
intervene without depending upon traditional signals.”

“I take it
you mean signals from the sky, the heavens,” Evan said. “We believe we may
have
received a signal from something extraterrestrial. Orange balls of light to
be exact—”

Mitchell
intervened. “Damn!” He pounded his hand on the steering wheel.

“What, are
we lost? I’m sorry, I should have been giving you directions,” Evans said.

“No.”
Mitchell shook his head. “I should have told Bill about the OBOLs. Maybe, it
would have changed his mind.”

Rusty
cleared his throat. “I don’t believe so. I know Bill. He doesn’t waver.
Besides, I don’t know if he’d equate your lights with the blue light of the
Kachina.”

“So you know
about these lights?” Mitchell asked Rusty.

“Sure. I saw
the news. When the crop circle was burned it indicated that some kind of power
struggle over technology was at hand. It is why I have risked coming with you,
to help you. My heart tells me we must intervene to protect the world.”

Evan offered
to share his hotel suite with Rusty. “We thank-you will all our hearts for
assisting us, Rusty.” Mitchell’s mind raced. What did Rusty seem to know that
they hadn’t? They had feared an alien takeover. Yet what Rusty suggested seemed
to insinuate that maybe some humans were aware of the power struggle as well.
If they were the ones tapping into alien technology it would certainly stand to
reason.

All agreed
to return to Colorado to prepare for their sojourn to the Arizona desert.
Supplies must be garnered. The desert world would be a harsh one, Rusty warned.
Mitchell broke the speed limit for much of the return trip. He was relieved the
team would have a guide for navigating Chaco, but he wondered, would he have
Iris at his side to help lead him?

S
HE
ROLLED
off him and onto her percale sheets. But Iris did not wrap
the cottony comfort around her; she left herself exposed. Open to him.

Mitchell
grunted.

“Was it too
good for words?” Iris teased. Her chest heaved softly as she regained her
breath. “I mean, I thought as a scientist, you might be a bit more literate.”

He took her
hand, lying parallel beside her. “I will put it into words when we’ve finished.
But I’ve got to admit, you were correct; I couldn’t resist a Camden girl.”

She nestled
her head onto his chest and peeked at his penis. He did have hard facts to back
his claim. He wasn’t finished. His erection confirmed it.

She had
ridden on top of him for much of their first union. He had thrust his hips
upward for most of it. “Wow, you did all the work,” she said, “and you’ve got
more in the reserves?”

“Quit it,
Iris. You’re beginning to sound like Kassidy. I thought this was about
connecting. It wasn’t just about sex . . . uh, I mean, it
was,
technically.” His hand began to play with her tummy. She giggled.