Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) Page 14

  THE ALL-NIGHTER continued with everyone seated around what was officially dubbed the “conference table.” Rachel shuffled to and fro from the kitchen replenishing everyone’s tea and coffee mugs, occasionally toasting muffins and bagels for the first hours. Eventually, DJ requested she take over the position and soon after, Darian disappeared with her.

  The notion of her sister sneaking off with Darian—especially in moments like these—tempered some of Iris’s anger. It made her realize love could still be the bottom line. Yet Iris didn’t need anger to keep her awake. Plenty of adrenaline coursed through her veins every time she thought about the deception. This disturbed her more than it angered her. The presence had omitted quite a bit of information from the previous conversation, enough to be charged with outright lying. Funny thing was, nearly everyone was all right with it. Mitchell and Evan managed to convince the teams within minutes that the presence had reason for his omissions. It had been better, Gavin stated, when all believed an all consuming, death inducing plague was coming. Now, the complications had everyone pondering, but Gavin maintained, it didn’t really matter because whether you labeled it evolution or a plague, nearly six billion deaths might result. If six out of every seven people would die, you had to stop it. Gavin was right, and he was also someone on Mitchell’s team she could no longer hope to counter support of the alien’s wishes. Yes, of course, Iris considered the invasion—or whatever you called the great influx of light waves—should be averted. Still, she wasn’t convinced the dial in tandem with the OBOLs were the planet’s defense. The enemy bugs, according to Galloway the alien, had visited Earth for decades. In all that time, they only came close to defeating the defense system once. Iris fathomed what Galloway revealed to her in the deepest recesses of her mind, and still she couldn’t stop harboring some doubt as to his intentions. How could anyone within the confines of her home, or for that matter the entire planet, be convinced without doubt that this Galloway might be part of the faction he supposedly opposed? What if there were no opposing aliens, but a team working together to deceive? If the two teams gathered together right now, although diametrically opposed to some of the others’ beliefs, could in some manner agree to work as one—ghost hunter and UFO chaser alike—then maybe, just maybe, the two alien races—once enemies—might align in a final effort to save themselves. The final consideration of Iris was this: what if installing the dial into the Earth’s energy core might bring about a worse outcome than Galloway charged? This conclusion prompted her to think of her father. Could she still consider giving the dial to the man that lived in shadows? And wouldn’t it be best to give such an artifact—or technology—to those with more experience handling such things? Sure Mitchell and Evan were versed in about every scientific theory she could consider, but neither had ever had first-hand experience with the application. She sat with hands interlaced giving Evan and Mitchell the time they had requested to enlighten the group on just what the extraterrestrial weapon might mean for those who might survive it.

  Mitchell mocked, handing an imaginary baton to Evan. “Now my good molecular biologist friend will guide us as to how a weapon from space might change our very makeup.”

  DJ and Darian sauntered back to the room, hand in hand, dreamy expressions etched on their faces.

  “Well,” Evan began, “DJ and Darian are providing some very good motivations and examples right now. We all want to stop harm from coming. We all want our species to continue procreating. I think this is something we all can agree on.”

  Kassidy waved a hand. “I’m not sure our two lovers have procreation as their top objective. But I do believe in sex. That’s a good enough motivation for me to keep people on our planet.” She raised a hand in mock toast while Iris observed the couple. Darian gripped DJ’s hand tighter as his lover’s pallor segued from ivory white to beet red, offering tender support. Iris couldn’t sense a link with DJ. She wondered where it had gone. But her eyes told her DJ was embarrassed. Her younger sister was apparently more comfortable at railing against life than enjoying it.

  Regardless of DJ’s preferences, Iris wished she had Mitchell’s complete backing. They had faced the presence mere hours ago, both ready to rebel at Galloway. But the alien knew how to handle Mitchell, to speak the ufologist’s language so to speak. Now he was drifting again, a ship leaving shore. How could she align with him? She didn’t have a clue, especially if she suggested turning the dial over to authorities. It just might be the final straw for their relationship.

  Evan charged on, undaunted by Kassidy’s ridicule. “The very weapon the enemy might have fashioned could very well be drifting through the entire fabric of our universe. It’s just that we—or other species—have not yet learned how to harness it. It seems it might be funneled in a concentrated burst toward us if we don’t observe our new friend Galloway’s requests.”

  Rachel raised a hand. “Excuse me, but what you’re saying sounds even more ethereal than apparitions. Some here may have had reason in the past to doubt the existence of ghosts, but I argue our presence has nearly given us irrefutable evidence of their existence. Sure, Galloway is not tangible, but does anyone harbor any doubt at this point?” She didn’t pause for an answer. “So we can agree we have a ghost here. Can we all agree it is alien? And for that matter, what proof do we have that such a light or energy weapon exists? You are giving us theory, Evan. I just wanted everyone to be clear about that. We should be able to quantify any claims with the same proof we now seem to have of ghosts. Galloway has visited Mitchell who has no natural means to commune with him. It seems to satisfy Evan’s conundrum about why everyone can’t communicate with spirits. I just think we should all demand more empirical data.”

  Iris nodded. She hadn’t expected Rachel to step up. It was an argument she should have been launching instead of daydreaming about Mitchell and a possible romantic future.

  Evan met Rachel’s gaze. She arched an eyebrow at him. He had been tapping on his keyboard as she spoke. “Excuse me, Rachel, I heard every word you were saying. It’s just that”—he paused to swivel his computer’s screen toward Rachel—“‘censorship’ by our government has prohibited us from acquiring such empirical data.” His screen displayed a site with many documents. Most of them blackened beyond comprehension. “We possibly have the smoking gun—to be more specific, the smoking spacecraft—but our government has contained it from us. We know from Galloway he had such a craft, and he believes it was taken upon his death and buried along with any knowledge of his alien existence.”

  Mitchell placed a hand on Evan’s shoulder. Iris could only guess the gesture meant Evan was on the verge of losing his temper. If he was prone to this weakness, how might she use it to her gain? Yes, she was learning how to be manipulative and harsh. But lives were on the line and Evan was too confident about his theories. She had to put up a fight as the skeptic. She pondered how she might accomplish this while Mitchell began to counter Rachel.

  “Yes, I believe I speak for my entire team that evidence of aliens has been kept from us. It’s not new. It probably goes back centuries if not longer. Consider visitations by ancient aliens. I think, in those cases, the aliens themselves purposely eradicated evidence of their visitations. But they still left monuments of their presence. How can we explain the precision crafting of the pyramids? Tools had to have existed for humans to accomplish such tasks. We can deduce from the existence of the pyramids that something alien influenced their construction. And because we have a tangible by-product like a pyramid, I submit we do have evidence of their presence.”

  Rachel glanced at the censored documents. “Okay, let’s just say I take your word for it. Can you give us any tangibility concerning this force you reference, how it weaves its way through the fabric of our universe without detection?”

  “I will try,” Evan answered. He interlaced his hands. “What if I tell you a genetic wave of us still exists, even after we have removed our DNA? It is phantom yet it is quite possible, if not provable. An
electromagnetic field from this genetic wave might not only remain as a traceable pattern but continue to effect devices such as electronics. We all agree Kassidy’s video camera was affected possibly by such phenomena. We just don’t know enough about the object or even the OBOLs to ascertain their distinct properties. But we have observed the outcome nevertheless. To touch upon Rachel’s concerns, it is because of this residual effect that I do believe in ghosts. Now, you don’t have to be dead to experience this phenomenon known as hyper-communication. On second thought, nix that, a death state might be unproductive if you’re an ant. A queen ant might be spatially separated from her colony, yet the workers still complete the tasks she can send to them telepathically, or at least without verbal communication. However, if the queen dies, the workers lose their ability to receive instructions. It would seem to prove an existence of wave genetics beyond our physical bodies. Imagine such a force permeating our time space. A DNA wave effect whereby life can be created out of the inanimate or existing organisms could be rearranged. DNA is changeable. That’s a fact. It’s why I believe this force, although invisible—because it flows through electromagnetic frequencies in ultraviolet, a spectrum our eyes cannot see—is quite tangible when you examine its byproducts. And if this force, or weapon, has been harnessed from space, it stands to reason it could also operate differently than here on Earth.” Evan detailed the existence of tau space where there are different constants not to mention temporal states. “Put simply, things don’t operate the same. It depends where they are. Placement is important. We might exist as ourselves here at this table but our consciousness, biology, and physical matter, or makeup, might redefine us as something else”—he pointed to the ceiling—“out there.”

  “So how would this weapon change us if we’re all still here on Earth?” Iris asked.

  “Good question,” Evan answered. “Not so easy to explain. But the effect the weapon may have upon us could be influenced by our already evolving biology. Science can provide genetic proof that we are evolving a hundred times faster than five thousand years ago. That equates to 7 percent of our genetic material being transformed. We might already be on this evolutionary track, but the weapon, or the force, will speed things up even greater. It’s why what Galloway told Iris and Mitchell makes sense to me. If the force is unleashed in a massive concentration then we will all experience rapid evolution.”

  DJ intervened. “Is that why the alien presence appears to be rainbow-colored? Is he some kind of light being?”

  Evan nodded. “You could conclude that much in theory. But for Rachel’s benefit, we can’t prove that. Besides, the being is now dead. A light being might very well achieve a higher state of consciousness in life. A living example would prove most interesting.”

  Iris snorted and crossed her arms across her chest. She said to Evan, “That’s funny how it’s so interesting to you. Lives are in the balance. I find nothing about this amusing. It’s why I harbor doubts about entering into any actions based largely upon theory. If what you’re saying is true, I doubt any one of us can imagine the full consequence. You said we don’t know enough about the properties of the dial or the OBOLs. Why should we find them a power source if we haven’t considered the side effects?” She paused, waiting for her jab to simmer. She needed to see if Evan could be baited with the simple emotion of anger.

  Evan lowered his head, raising a half-closed hand, spiderlike. “Yet we might stand to lose more if we take no action. You heard Gavin, about six of our seven billion people might perish and those who are changed might exist in servitude. If you will please let me continue, I will explain why I feel such a control mechanism might be very possible.”

  Iris suppressed a grin. She could just feel Evan’s placidity deteriorating. Although if she could indeed detect such feelings, she might have to admit that Evan was at least partially correct. But she was quite certain there would never come a moment when she likened herself with an ant.

  Evan proposed survivors would be subject to the whims of a grand morphic field. “Morphic fields seem to already exist but on small scales. Dogs seem to detect when their owners are coming home, even when that time varies. But humans and other species on the planet might not be so attentive to such fields. Yet if we were to evolve into beings with our consciousnesses much more attuned to those around us, we could easily fall prey to the power of suggestion. One thought could be sent out via a massive morphic field and be heard by all. An agenda could not only be developed but carried out. I would think the bugs would want control of our resources. It’s why they haven’t just dropped a bomb on us. They need to protect our water and minerals. They can achieve this through rapid evolution.”

  “Again, do we have any examples of humans falling prey to those fields in our current state?” Rachel asked Evan.

  “Have you ever felt someone staring at you from behind? When you weren’t certain if anyone was there, but you could feel them looking at you?”

  Rachel smiled. “Yes, my grade school librarian. She would always sneak up on us, making sure we were reading approved material.”

  Kassidy laughed. “Yeah, I recall her eyes boring into the back of my head. But she wasn’t too good at the power of suggestion. I read comic books in study—to Stan Lee’s delight.”

  “Then,” Mitchell said, “we have to give Evan credence for what he has proposed. Rapid evolution could enhance the ability to observe, to be controlled. Now, if what the presence says is true, I probably won’t survive the first stage. I’ve received inoculations. That means my body might not be able to produce enough antibodies to resist what our bodies will perceive to be an attack. But I can’t stand here and condone the remaining populace be converted into slaves despite their higher consciousness.” He gazed at Iris. “I wouldn’t wish that on my enemies, let alone those I care for.”

  Evan nodded. “What Mitchell is referring to—a sickness—would be an appropriate body response in the first stage. DNA can store light. Imagine our cells suddenly flooded with light, with information. It would overwhelm. But when the body adapts, the pineal gland will take the light and start instructing our brain to make code changes. It’s why we all might be telepathic or possibly even levitate, at will.”

  Rachel grunted. “I don’t think Kassidy needs a higher consciousness to fly.” She positioned her arms like Superman. “She gets her wings from a bottle.”

  Evan nodded, wearing a frown. “You can disparage all you like. But these theories will be proved. We have even predicted such genetic events. I would label the enemy’s plan as coalescence, which measures the variation in DNA sequences. These variations might result from an event. I think we can all agree that what we’ve been discussing would certainly be classified as such. A form of this coalescence can be experienced as a genetic bottleneck.” Evan raised a hand and grimaced. “Please, no more imbibing jokes. Anyway, if a small group—namely the one billion remaining survivors—were to be responsible for repopulating the planet, there would be a limited pool of genes, albeit a very advanced one. I surmise one superior race would emerge. That might sound intriguing to Hitler’s ghost, but it would spell the extinction of individual races. That said, I think we would want to prevent from this happening.”

  Iris countered. “Again, I am not discounting your theories. But why should people like us be indebted to such a task? Might we consider there are more qualified people to judge whether or not we engage the dial with a power source?” Iris could feel the weight of Mitchell’s stare. She didn’t need a morphic field or whatever phenomena Evan espoused. Besides DJ, Mitchell was the only one who knew what her father did. She realized, based on Mitchell’s earlier reactions, the ufologist opposed men like her father. They supposedly kept the secrets he labeled cover-ups. But couldn’t some of those cover-ups be for our benefit? Bottom line, Iris believed her father dealt in classified tech. Mitch believed that classified tech had alien origins.

  Evan whispered something to Mitchell then said. “Galloway has suggest
ed the government might already be aware of the enemy’s plans. It’s why they avoided the inoculations. How can we consider the best course of action to emerge from those already in collusion?”

  Iris slammed her hand on the table. “That is supposition. It would be thrown out if we were in court. We have no way to prove what Galloway charged. Damn it, Mitchell! Somewhere in your subconscious mind you know Galloway is a manipulator. He fed you a hook about conspiracy, and you swallowed. It’s possible he could read that from being in your mind. He used you. Placated your concerns about his omissions; maybe he’s the conspirator. Have you stopped to consider that?”

  “I think we all need a break. It’s very late—or very early—based upon your perspective,” Mitchell said, his hands raised as if in surrender.

  Evan nodded. “Yes, it would seem this is all about perspective isn’t it? I apologize to everyone who had a workday planned for tomorrow. Entertain the idea of a sick day. We’ve all had a lot to digest.”

  Iris balled her fist. She meant to derail Evan’s logic by exploiting his temper. But he remained cool, even apologetic. Meanwhile, she managed to piss off Mitchell, so not what she intended.