Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) Page 16

  “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.

  HIGHWAY 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.

  Chapter Fourteen

  MITCHELL 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.”r />
  “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.”

  MITCHELL 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?

  SHE 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.

  She grabbed his wandering hand. “It was—very observant, for a scientist.”

  “So we’re together now?” Mitchell asked.

  “Of course . . .” She squinted, but it wasn’t because she was without her glasses. “What are you getting at?”

  “I mean, besides being a couple. Are we together on what we need to do at Chaco?” He made a fist about her thumb.

  She still wasn’t sure. But she had felt emotion for this man since they first began investigating The Dial. The sex confirmed this. “I will be with you.” She felt it best to minimize her answer. If she went into depth, she would again raise many doubts and suspicions about Galloway. She felt ill at ease with Galloway and his plan. She didn’t doubt Mitchell’s integrity, however. She felt he believed his cause to be just.

  He smiled. “I am very happy you will be with me. And the rest of your team. I as
sume by their voting, they will be joining us as well.”

  She nodded. “We’re a package deal.” She began to run a hand through his hair. “Okay, I’ve given you something, now give me something.”

  “A very polemic statement,” he said, cupping a hand around his chin. “What on Earth could you mean?”

  Her heart began racing. For a minute, she pictured herself outside her body. She was viewing herself and Mitchell from above the bed. It was as though she was back in Galloway’s mind where she learned to communicate by images via the subconscious. She feared her next thought. Mitchell would become the stranger impersonating himself to be a human, just as she saw in her dream vision. But he remained in human form, toned and fit; totally a man, totally someone she would remain attracted to.

  “Where did you go?” he asked. He pulled her back on top of him.

  “Sorry. I was thinking. But you’re not off the hook. Out with it. I want to know your first name. Better yet. I also want to know your middle name.”

  “This sounds serious.”

  “It is.” Her hair fell into his eyes.

  “I can’t see.”

  “You don’t have to see to know your name.”

  She began tickling him. On top of him, he was nearly powerless to stop her.

  “Okay. I will tell. I will tell. It’s . . . Thaddeus Ambrose.”

  “Oh, God, no wonder . . .”

  “Hey, hey, it’s not that bad.”

  “It’s not that good, either.”

  They laughed for a long moment. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody. Especially not Kassidy,” Iris said. She giggled as her hands began maneuvering along his sides, upward.

  “You’ve got me in a compromising position. What can I say?”

  Her mind flashed again. She saw the alien in her dream vision.

  “Can you tell me something, without laughing at me?”

  “Oh, I see. Only I can be laughed at.”