Incarnate: Mars Origin "I" Series Book III (7 page)

Giza Plateau, Egypt

It had gotten
chilly in the air-conditioned trailer, but Aaron hadn’t noticed until he turned
over an iced drink he had been sipping on. The clanking of the glass, and the
liquid spreading and soaking his papers broke his concentration.

He grabbed his
papers, slid back his chair and jumped up, holding his arms up in the air.
“Shit.”

He threw the
papers on a chair and grabbed a paper towel from the counter. Wiping down his
pants, he grabbed another towel for the table.

. The papers
were soaked. He picked them up and took them with him into the bedroom and
spread them out on the bedspread. Already the ink was starting to smear. It
didn’t matter. He knew what it said. He had read it enough times to have
memorized it.

It was the
history of excavation under the Sphinx.

He changed into
a dry shirt and khaki shorts and sat on the bed.

Although Cayce
had made his proclamation in the 1930s, no one looked until 1997.

It was then
that Joe Jahoda and Dr. Joseph Schor had found a 25 x 40 foot underground
cavern near the Sphinx. Try as they might, they were unable to get permission,
once it was discovered, to do additional radar analysis. Far from being
archaeologists or even scientists, they did the work on behalf of the Edgar
Cayce Foundation. But it wasn’t who they were that made Aaron sit up and notice
but what they found and the possibility of what else was there to be
discovered.

Unfortunately,
they were only allowed to do limited drilling so they had to drop cameras down
and take a look that way. Initially, the cavity they found appeared to be a
natural formation, but a few yards in, it made what appeared to be an
unnatural, 90-degree turn. But that and a promise they could do more
sophisticated analysis at a later date, was the last anyone saw or heard of
Jahoda and Dr. Schor and the possibility of something more under the Sphinx.

They just let
it go. Aaron shook his head and smiled. “Cowards. They didn’t understand that
you have to fight for what you want.” He brushed his hand over his hair and
walked back out to the living area of the trailer.

He wouldn’t give
up until he got what he set out to find. No matter what it took.

He looked out
of the trailer window. The day had been a good one. The pyramids were part of
his front yard now. The Sphinx, he felt, belonged to him. He felt happy.

Aaron opened up
the camper door and was met with the ink black night that enveloped the
plateau. He switched on the flood lights that illuminated the canopy-covered
area attached to the camper’s façade and sat in one of the yellow mesh folding
chairs. Taking a sip of his drink, he gazed out at the star–filled sky. He
could barely make out the outline of the monuments.

Excavations
would start tomorrow.

He couldn’t
wait.

His field
campaign was comprised of top notch people, and he provided them with the
latest technology. He had spared no expense. He had even made up with the
government official whose daughter he had threatened.

History
changes one death at a time.

He
firmly believed that old adage. People had to die in order for old ideologies
and beliefs to be replaced. And perhaps sometimes those channels of change had
to be nudged a bit.

Most
scientist didn’t believe that there was anything under the Sphinx. But he
believed it. Down in his bones.

And
the more research and examination of the area, brought more proof that there
was something there. During the summer of 2001, the entrances to hidden
chambers in the Great Pyramid of Khufu was reported by an ABC Online News
Service. Two French archaeologists had used macrophotography to analyses the
walls within the pyramid. And the walls of those chambers seem to be headed
right under the Sphinx. They, too, didn’t get any further than that.

Now,
fifteen years later, even though he was the only one vying to run a field
campaign on the site, his efforts had almost been thwarted. That is until
Castor held onto his leverage.

He
smiled as he thought about the sweat that had trickled down the Director
General’s face as he handed over those permits. His hands were shaking and he
kept his head down the entire time they met. No eye contact. No guts. What he
must have been thinking – how he could have lost his beautiful daughter all so
someone could dig under the Sphinx.

The
insistence of the local government to preserve the status of the existing
monuments was shattered. One day soon, the Director General would see what a
big deal digging under the Sphinx really was.

Aaron
leaned back in his seat, crossed his legs and took a sip of his drink.

Caracol, Belize

She was on the
opposite side of the world from the places where anyone would have thought to
look to find the cradle of life. Human DNA had been traced back to one man in
Africa, which had fit hand in glove with what history books had taught as the
truth for years. People were digging in Turkey, Israel and Egypt for human
history. She was in Central America.

Go figure,
she
thought.

But those once
tightly woven threads of the tapestry of history had become frayed and were
slowly beginning to unravel.

I might just
be the one to break all the old ways of thinking.

A purple haze
streaked across the sky, and the glare of the shimmering liquid white sun
blazed over the horizon.
Logan Dickerson sat on a mass of rocks
and dirt that had been upturned by her team earlier that day. She stared out at
the roped off areas of the site she had been recruited to excavate.
And
with excitement and wonder she contemplated what she would discover.

The history of
man was being turned upside down and shaken violently. And what might come out
of it was surely going to surprise everyone who thought they knew the truth.

 “An
archaeologist is a re-creator of history . . .” Her mother’s words swept
through her like a cold breeze and hit up against the walls of her heart,
making it pound. The anticipation made her lightheaded. She was excited and weak
all at the same time. She had to constantly wipe the sweat from the palms of
her hands, and concentrate hard to keep them from trembling.

She
picked up a fistful of dirt and let it filter through her fingers. The thought
of digging there had made her giddy. She sucked in the warm, moist air mixed
with the earthiness of the dirt and let it invade her senses. 

She
was young, new to her profession and this could make her career.

Or
end it.

“Dr.
Dickerson.” Logan looked up to find Jairo Zacapa walking toward her. “You’re
still out? It’s getting late. No daylight left to work.”

Being
called “Dr. Dickerson” made her think of her mother. “Call me Logan.” She
smiled. “For the umpteenth time.”

“You’re
pretty important around here. Can I sit?”

“Sure.”

“Seems
like you’d revel in the title,” he finished his thought.

“Just
here to do my job, Jairo.”

It
was her mother’s discovery, she felt in her gut that had brought her there in
the first place. She was sure of it. Even though her mother’s name or work
hadn’t been mentioned in any of the correspondences that had summoned her. It
was fraught with phrases like “the true origin of man,” and “answering age old
questions.” She had received a letter, out of the blue, stating that she had
been chosen to lead a field campaign. The letter ended by stating the funding
would come from an anonymous benefactor.

She
hadn’t cared who was paying for it or how they knew about her mother. She was
just happy to be there.

“Did
you find anything out here today?” Jairo asked.

“Nothing
today. Just more dirt.”

“You’re
not getting discouraged are you?”

“No.
Why do I seem like I am?”

“No.
Just wondering.”

“We
haven’t been here long,” Logan said. “I think we’ll find something soon.
There’s no problem is there?”

“No.
Nothing’s wrong. But the person that hired you is expecting big things, you
know. The answer to all the holes in the history of man.”

“Ha
ha. Yeah. Right. I don’t think I will be finding anything like that.”

Funny
he should say that to her, she thought. Her mother claimed to have filled in
those holes already. Logan looked at Jairo. The crow’s feet and laugh lines in
his face made her think he was about forty. He had dark hair, a flat face, eyes
that were thin and set far apart.

And
although she liked Jairo and felt like she could talk to him, she didn’t dare
say anything about her mother out loud. Her mother’s answers were too
farfetched to actually share with others. Heck her mother was even keeping them
secret. And it was easy to understand why. Her mother’s “filling up those holes”
theory? Ancient man, older than any of the remains ever found, was not only
more technologically advanced than anything we knew today, but he hailed from
outer space.

Outer
space.

Yeah, she definitely wasn’t going to say anything about that to him.

“So,
how well do you know my mysterious benefactor?” she said instead.

“You
know I can’t talk about that.” Jairo kept his eyes focused straight ahead.

She
lowered her eyes. “Just thought I’d give it a try.”

He
glanced at her and smiled.

“Well,
one thing I’ve figure out,” Logan said. “Whomever it is, they seem to like
Indiana Jones movies.”

A
slight frown appeared across Jairo’s forehead and he gave a nod.

“You
know. I mean . . . Well, in the letter when they hired me it was filled with .
. .”

He
continued nodding as she spoke. Same little frown drawn in the creases of his
forehead.

Maybe he doesn’t have any idea of what I’m talking about.
Not everyone had seen those movies.

“Never
mind,” she said.

Maybe
it was best she didn’t go there. Her mother - the female version of Indiana
Jones – had made the character a part of her consciousness. But she wasn’t
looking to follow in her mother’s footsteps.

Her
mother, Justin Dickerson, now in her mid-fifties, had retired from
archaeological excavations and spent her time in classrooms teaching about it.
But she had recently confessed to Logan that she’d discovered that man came
from Mars. Not little green men with slanted eyes and spindly limbs like her
mother said her father had originally thought – no – Humans.
Homo sapiens
.
Same as us. Same DNA. Same wants and desires. And unfortunately the same
mindset – wanting to be like gods. Logan wasn’t too sure if her mother’s
confession was born out of insanity or  . . .

Surely her theory of things couldn’t be true.

“There
are a lot of hidden secrets, here,” Jairo said, jarring her from her thoughts.

“That’s
why we’re here,” she took in a breath and patted him on his knee, “to find
secrets. Right?”

 “I
know who your mother is,” he said, glancing over at me. “I read her book,
In
the Beginning
.”

Oh no. That couldn’t be a good thing.

Jairo
had appeared to hesitate before he said it. Like he was searching for words.
Now he opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing more.

“What?”
Logan said, almost sorry she’d let him strike up a conversation with her. “I
know that book. But . . .” Logan didn’t want to lie and deny it being her
mother. He stumbled over what to say. “My mother’s name is Justin Dickerson.
Someone else wrote that book.”

‘Yes.
I know. The copy I saw had the author’s name crossed out and your mother’s name
scrawled in. I know it’s her book.”

“I’m
not like my mother,” Logan answered, shaking her head. “I mean. I don’t have
the same theories as she does. I believe what I find here.” She kicked her foot
into the dirt.

“Is
she a bad person?”

“No.
That’s not what I meant.”

“I
believe it. All of it.”

Logan
raised her eyebrows. “Believe what?” She snapped her head around and looked at
him. “My mother? What my mother wrote? You believe it?”

He
grinned. “So it
is
your mother who wrote the book?” He chuckled. “Yep.”
He nodded. “I believe it.”

“You
couldn’t be serious?”

“I
am. I’m very serious.”

“How
did you get a copy of my mother’s book? Wait, how did you know she was my
mother?”

“Your
benefactor had a copy of it. I took an ‘unauthorized’ look at it. I Googled the
name. And then I just figured with the same last name, same hometown and all.”

“So,
what are you saying?” She laughed. “You believe that super intelligent aliens
visited ancient man?” She shook her head. “That isn’t very scientific.”

“I’m
not a scientist. I’m just sort of a
liaison
.”

Logan
wasn’t sure what he was. He knew the area like the back of his hand, like he
had grown up there. But he didn’t have a smidgen of an accent, and used English
American colloquialisms better than she did. And he definitely wasn’t an
archaeologist.

“She
made some good points in her book,” Jairo continued. “And didn’t she say that
they weren’t aliens. That they were us. Our human ancestors, coming from Mars.
They gave this planet life. Created it from ‘scratch’ – if I remember correctly
how she put it. She said they made animals, atmosphere, and even their own
little version of man right here on Earth.”

“I
don’t know. I’ve never read her book.”

“You
never read it?”

“Uh
huh.” She shook her head. “And I don’t plan on it.”

That
was true, but Logan also had speculated that her benefactor somehow knew of her
mother’s book. Now she knew for a fact that because of her mother’s theories,
she had gotten the job. Logan had leapt at the opportunity to come to South
America for a dig that looked for more than Indian culture. The possibility
that the “New World” wasn’t really that - that it was the home to Earth’s first
man was too much to hope for, but it was what she had dreamed of ever since she
decided to become an archaeologist. And to add to the intrigue, Logan’s mother
had told her that the Americas was once the continent known as Atlantis.

That
much of what her mother told her, she decided, she did believe.

Yeah,
she couldn’t believe that humans came from Mars, but she definitely believed
that there was more to man’s origin story than what was currently known.

Logan
looked up at the darkening sky lost in thought.

That’s
why she was there, in Belize. Why she agreed to be in charge of this dig, even
though she didn’t have the experience and didn’t know for whom she was working.
And even though it might be based on something her mother had done. Logan
figured, if Atlantis was there in the Americas, it was here that she would find
the ancient knowledge of the world.

Landing
a job near Guatemala in western Belize had to be the right place to be.

“Did
you forget I was here?”

“Huh?”
Logan glanced at Jairo. “Oh. No.” She chuckled. “I didn’t forget. I was just
thinking.”

“I
noticed you were looking up. Thinking about man coming from Mars?”

“No.”
She shook her head vigorously. “Never.” She turned and looked into his brown
eyes. “I could never think that.”

“Why?
Is that too crazy to think? That man could have originated somewhere else. Is
that why your mother was afraid to tell it? Because people like you wouldn’t
believe it?”

“People
like me?” She gave him a slanted look. He stared at her waiting for an answer.
“Aren’t you full of questions?” Logan smiled at him. She stood up and wiped the
dirt from the back of her pants and sighed. She patted him on his leg. “Me and
my mother are nothing alike. If you want to find out about her outrageous
theories, you’d have to talk to her. I just want to find out more about ancient
American history.” She lifted up an eyebrow. “
Earth’s
ancient history.”

Logan
walked over and stood in front of the string-boarded grids of the dig.

“You
know, your mother isn’t the only person that ever came up with that idea. A
superhuman race that gave us knowledge.” Jairo’s voice followed her.

Logan
turned to face him and dug her hands in her pocket. “Maybe.” She nodded in
agreement. “But no one ever claimed they were from Mars.”

Perhaps
she shouldn’t ridicule her mother. Especially to strangers. She pulled her
hands out of her pocket and turned her back to Jairo. She liked Jairo, and
Jairo so far had been nice to her. Although he wasn’t very forthcoming on all
things benefactor-wise. But, she shrugged, that was probably his job as well.
Keeping secrets. Just like her mother.

Boy,
her mother had a slew of them. Not just that man was from Mars, but the proof
she claimed she had. Irrefutable proof she had said. Like how she decoded a six
hundred year old codex that no one else could figure out, and how it contained,
among other things, the knowledge to build spaceships and cure cancer.

Jeesh.

Logan
had been kind of skeptical about the truth of whether her mother decoded the
Voynich Manuscript or that any of those things had been in it. But she didn’t
argue the point when her mother told her, she had just listened.

Maybe she shouldn’t have even done that
.

“Hey,
Jairo,” Logan turned and looked at him. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow?”

“Okay.
I’ll be around.” Logan started to walk off and Jairo called after her, “You
should try and be a little more open-minded in your beliefs,” he said.

She
turned and glanced over her shoulder at him and drew in a deep breath.
She
climbed into her rented white Ford Focus and buckled her seatbelt.

Turning the
ignition and putting the car in gear she looked over at Jairo still sitting on
the pile of dirt. She was going to get the dirt of the dig off of her and put
it out of her mind for a couple of days. She was going to Guatemala for the
weekend.

The
car rocked over the uneven dirt road but it didn’t break into her thoughts.

 It
had been a hard pill to swallow - the story her mother told her. But it
explained many things. Like how Indians, and no other race of people were
already in supposedly uninhabited land when the first explorers came. It
explained why there were pyramids in Egypt and in the Americas that were
similar in style and the advanced technology needed to build them. It explained
the similarities in languages between people living on opposite sides of the
globe. And it explained how heavy stones were precision cut from quarries miles
away and used to build the temples and palaces of places like Pumapunku.

But
she wasn’t letting her mother’s theories, whether Jairo or her benefactor
bought in to them or not, change her plans of making this dig her own. To bring
to life once again the lives of our ancestors. Find the answers and get the
truth of our history out so everyone would know.

But
as it stood right now, she didn’t have her own answers to the truth of man’s
past. At least not any better than the one her mother offered.

She
sighed. She had resigned herself to the fact that her mother’s premise – there
was a connection between the western world’s evidence of ancient man and
Central America’s - was valid. Not an extraterrestrial connection, but one just
the same. Her mother had shown Logan evidence of it.

Well, she showed you evidence of the extraterrestrial part, too,
and you’re not believing that
.

Logan
shook her body as if she just had a chill.

“Okay,”
she said out loud. She hadn’t admitted it to Jairo, but she had to admit it to
herself, even if it were a damper to the excitement she felt about his dig.
Maybe there was something to her mother’s theory. After all, it was her
mother’s
contention that what she had found was true.

How
can you
not
believe your mother?