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[Return to Table of Contents | Ancient Arrow Contents | Chapter Three]
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An Excerpt from Beliefs and Their Energy Systems, Decoded from Chamber 4 |
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Anyone who had spent time in the desert knew very well that snoring was the most vexing of bedtime behaviors. In the absolute silence of the sleeping desert, coyotes excepted, snoring could rise to the level of dull thunder. Neruda needed a good night's sleep. During the two hour chopper ride he had stolen a few minutes of shuteye, but most of his time was spent reviewing the mission agenda with Evans; selecting a site to make camp; and bringing Samantha Folten up to speed on the mission objectives and the artifact. Walt Andersen hadn't been available for the trip on three-hour notice due to an illness in his family. Evans relented, allowing Samantha to join the exploration team despite her relatively low security clearance. Neruda was secretly pleased, partly because Samantha was new and enthusiastic, and partly because she was so highly recommended by Branson. "You know tomorrow's gonna be one kick-ass day, boss." Neruda smiled at Andrews' unconventional choice of words. Among the scientific core, Andrews was the only one who spoke with such guttural spontaneity. Over the years, it had become a comfort to Neruda. Oddly enough, it was even a source of admiration. Neruda often wished he could recite these same words with Andrews' natural ease. "As long as you're around to provide color commentary, I'm sure it will be." When Neruda was alone with Andrews, sarcasm was an involuntary reflex. "So what's the plan after breakfast?" "We'll hike about half a kilometer to the bottom of the mesa -" "And who's gonna carry the little monster?" "Are you volunteering?" "Yeah, I'm volunteering Evans." "You worry too much about the future," Neruda chided him. "Can we concentrate - for just two more minutes - on setting up the tent?" "Yeah, boss." "But what is the plan? Is this RV gonna do'er thing and then we all go home?" "Something like that," Neruda chuckled. "You were at the briefing meeting. Were you listening?" "I always listen when you speak, boss. It's just that the mission agenda seemed... well, it seemed incomplete. If we're able to find this ET site, why'd we come all the way here, pitch a camp, hike the little monster all over this God-forsaken canyon, make the discovery of the century, and then turn tail and run back home?" "It's protocol," Neruda answered with finality. "Shit, boss, if it's really protocol, doesn't team leader also have the responsibility to reassess appropriate measures. Isn't it protocol to change protocol if situations warrant? I mean what if we discover something tomorrow that's fuckin' unbelievable? It's possible, isn't it? And why should we discover-and-run because of some silly, outdated protocol? Shit, other advance teams have been given latitude. I'm just sayin' we should, too." "Let's see what happens. I'm too tired to worry about contingencies outside of the mission agenda. Anyway, that's what Evans is here for." "Don't give that ape any more power than absolutely necessary," Andrews whispered, well aware of the stupidity of talking too loud. "His only instinct is to conceal. The word discovery isn't in his fuckin' vocabulary." "You're not being fair -" Emily poked her head inside the sloping tent. "You boys still playing with your tent?" she lightly prodded. Neruda and Andrews answered in unison. "Get out!" "A little sensitive, aren't we?" Even in the dim light of the lantern, her smile was contagious. "Samantha and I finished our set-up, brewed some decaf, and we're just about ready for a little walk before bed. We thought we'd see if you gentlemen wanted to join us." She put just enough of an English accent on the word "gentlemen" to remind them both of her Cambridge education. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, go ahead and brag all you want about your quick set-up, but you didn't have to listen to the bossman explain, in tedious detail, all about our contingency plans." Neruda could only grunt in disagreement, as he focused on tying the final rope and taking out any slack. "Is Samantha with you?" he asked. "She's a little shy around you SL-Twelvers," Emily quipped. "She's probably heard how you read minds and pick apart alibis. All the RVs are wary of you guys. Everyone else thinks you're just a bunch of pussycats." Andrews said half-seriously. "Did I hear correctly? You have coffee made, or are you just trying to make us old gentlemen feel bad?" Neruda asked. "Yep." "Yep to which question?" "Both actually." "And were you planning to share some of that coffee?" "Let me confer with my new roommate." Emily stuck her head outside the tent for a moment. Whispered voices exchanged a few words. "Yep, but we have one condition." "And that would be?" "Samantha wants to see the artifact." Neruda paused, trying to feel his reaction rather than think about it. "Okay," was his instinctual reply. "I know it's hard to believe, but we're almost done here. We'll meet you at your tent in a few minutes. I'll bring the artifact along and make the proper introductions. "Will you two busybodies have enough time to bake some cookies before we arrive?" Neruda smiled as he spoke, darting his mischievous eyes between Emily and the silhouette of Samantha outside the tent. "Probably will, I reckon." Emily turned and left her fake southern accent floating behind. "You know, boss, I'm not sure it's such a good idea to let Samantha look at this thing," Andrews said, pointing to the aluminum carrying case, custom designed for the artifact. "Why not?" "She's an RV." Remote Viewers were very specialized personnel within the ACIO who were trained to be able to remotely view an environment across distance, and even time. But unlike other intelligence organizations that used RV, the ACIO also used a technology to enhance their natural psychic abilities. The technology, called RePlay, enabled RVs to capture their observations more accurately. RVs were often attached to ACIO reconnaissance missions with the purpose of locating an object, person, or specific space / time coordinate. Their accuracy was startling. They could "see" the place where a subject was and if there were landmarks, they could pinpoint the exact location. "I realize you don't trust RVs, but try to be a little less paranoid if you can." "Look'it, I'm paranoid because we have Evans and an RV on our mission. The combination's shit. You know that. Anything that happens out of the ordinary will immediately fall out of your hands." Andrews was whispering again. "Well then, let's make sure we keep everything as ordinary as possible," Neruda replied. "And we could start by getting our damn tent setup." "Relax, boss. We're all done. Ta da." With that he stood up and put his arms out the way a magician does after completing an extraordinary feat of illusion.
"Is your tent still standing?" Emily asked with a smile. She was tending the coffee on the fuel cell heater and organizing some shortbread cookies she had brought for the trip. "It was when I left it." "Luckily there's no wind tonight." "Luckily there's coffee." Neruda's love of coffee was bested only by his zeal for discovery. "Is Andrews going to join us?" "I think he wanted to stay away from the combination of RV and artifact," Neruda whispered, leaning towards Emily's ear. "When you strip away his macho façade, he's basically a scared little puppy underneath." Emily laughed and called Samantha out of the tent. Samantha was young by ACIO standards. Mid-thirties, slightly overweight with a shy smile and strikingly beautiful emerald-colored eyes that dominated her face. She looked Celtic with wavy red hair that was nearly waist-length. She was the kind of person who looked half enchantress, half wistful introvert. Neruda gave her his most relaxed smile. He placed the case on the ground. "I think you'll find this fascinating," he began. "As I told you on the chopper, the object was found about nine kilometers from here. I want to wait until tomorrow morning before we proceed with full-blown RV and RePlay, but you can take a quick look at it now." As he flicked open the latches and raised the top of the aluminum case, the artifact, half-buried in foam rubber, immediately began to hum in an eerie, pulsing manner. Samantha peered over the edge of the case. The light from the fire and nearby lantern seemed to pool in her face. A look of worry replaced her excitement. Her eyes narrowed to focus exclusively on the object, and her lips tightened as if they'd been forbidden to speak. Sensing something was wrong, Neruda hurriedly closed the lid over the artifact. Samantha crumpled to the ground, her head falling directly on top of the case. Emily shrieked. Neruda grabbed Samantha and held her head up lightly patting her cheeks with his hand. "Samantha. Samantha. It's okay. It's okay." Samantha opened her eyes almost instantly. She looked at Neruda who was holding her head in his lap. "It's alive," she whispered as if in fear of being overheard by the object. "It's an intelligence... not a technology." "Let's get you up," Neruda said as he helped her to her feet slowly. "Are you okay?" Emily implored. "Yes. I'm okay, just a little shocked by this -" "What the hell happened?" asked Evans as he burst on the scene, followed by Collin a few paces behind. For an instant Neruda wasn't sure what to say. "What happened?" Evans asked again, this time more insistently. "Everyone just calm down," Neruda replied softly. "Is there enough coffee for everyone, Emily?" "Yes, yes, of course." "Let's sit down then, have a cup of coffee, and we'll tell you what we know. I'm as interested to hear from Samantha as anyone." Samantha was visibly shaken, and Neruda helped her ease into one of the folding chairs gathered around the fire. Evans and Collin joined the circle of chairs loosely configured around the campfire. Emily quickly began to pour coffee. Neruda gave the first cup to Samantha. The night air was starting to get cool, and the warm cup reminded Neruda that the desert's stored heat was giving way to the frigid darkness. "You're sure you're okay?" Neruda asked again, crouching before Samantha. She took a long sip of coffee. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." "What did you experience? Can you tell us?" Neruda stood up only to sit down opposite Samantha in a folding chair that Evans had set up. "I heard this humming... it... it immediately entrained my mind. It was an incredibly powerful hypnotic effect. It suggested an image -" "And what was the image?" blurted Evans. "It was of a cave or dark structure of some kind." "On earth?" "I don't know... maybe. It was designed... not a natural cave... more like an anteroom. Yes, the cave was constructed but disguised as a natural structure." "By who?" Neruda and Evans asked in harmony. "I don't know." "Samantha, you said earlier that the artifact was alive. That it wasn't a technology, but rather an intelligence. What did you mean exactly?" "I could be wrong, but the object seemed to project itself." Her voice was quivering and her breath was short. She swallowed, looking dazed. "It was reading my mind. I could feel it scan me. It was a little like being eaten alive - only it was my thoughts that it was eating." "It could still be a technology that did this, couldn't it?" Evans looked briefly at Neruda and then Collin. "I can't imagine how this object could have organic intelligence," Collin stated. "It's just not practical that something made of metal alloys -" "I think we should assume this thing is dangerous." Evans stood up and remained silent. He was clearly thinking of alternatives. "Let's not assume we know anything about this object," Neruda said. "This image you saw, Samantha, was it an entrance?" "Yes, I think so." "And all you saw was a dark structure of some kind?" "Yes." "Did you get a feel for distance or direction from our camp?" "No. Not really. Though, just when you asked that now, it seems that it was nearby. I don't know for sure. It all happened in a few seconds. I was overwhelmed. It was a feeling of... of mental rape." She began to cry, her eyes dropping tears at every blink. Emily squeezed her hand in support, and Evans, pacing around the fire pit assembling chairs, suddenly stopped. "You know this could be a probe. I don't know why you didn't consider this before. Homing device, compass, map. You thought of everything but a probe. Why?" "Before we conclude our investigation, let's begin it," Neruda said with a hint of sarcasm. "With all due respect to Samantha, she could be misinterpreting the true intentions of the artifact." "How so?" Evans demanded. "It's possible the device was activated by her psychic abilities. Perhaps my own. I don't know. But the device was activated somehow, and it could be that its primary action is to try and connect with whatever activated it and deliver a message or image." Neruda turned to Samantha again. "Did you hear what I just said?" She nodded. "Is it possible that the device was simply trying to connect with you? That it wasn't trying to hurt you?" Samantha didn't move her head. Her face was withdrawn. Her eyes closed like ponderous doors, and everyone waited. "Samantha, did you hear me?" She remained unmoving as if she was sleeping. Neruda intuited that the artifact was again probing her, or trying to connect in some way. "I think she's communicating right now with the object." "Shouldn't we snap her out of it?" Evans demanded. "She could be in some danger." "She looks composed. Even peaceful." Neruda whispered. "Let's just observe for a while." He unlatched the aluminum case and slowly opened the top. The object was emitting an unmistakable vibration. It wasn't the hum from an electrical device. This hum was very subtle, almost unnoticeable, even in the silence of the desert. It was felt more than heard. Samantha continued to look withdrawn, trance-like, in total rapport with the artifact. Neruda leaned closer to her and touched her forehead with the back of his hand as if he were trying to determine if she had a fever. He checked her pulse. He was satisfied that Samantha was okay. As he sat back down, Neruda became a little woozy and disoriented. "Are you okay?" Emily asked. Neruda nodded slowly, but there was uncertainty in his eyes. "I feel like I'm being dragged into unconsciousness," Neruda said faintly. "It's not easy to resist this thing -" Evans stood up and began pacing again. "Does anyone else feel this... this hypnosis?" Collin and Emily both shook their heads and mumbled "no". "Damn it, I thought we agreed to wait until the morning to start this investigation." Evans' voice was raised in pitch and intensity. "I forgot to tell the object we were going to wait until the morning," Neruda confided, showing his sense of humor was intact. "Don't worry, I don't feel any danger. It's just trying to wire itself to its homebase and to my mind at the same time. It's as if this thing is making an introduction." Neruda mouthed the words like he was talking in his sleep. He rubbed the corner of his eyes with his forefinger. Every movement was strained as if gravity was suddenly intensified and time was stretched into the realm of slow motion. "I understand." Samantha stirred. Her whole body shot out of her chair and she knelt before the artifact. She picked it up with great strain on her face, her arms struggling with the weight. She touched certain glyphs in a specific order with her fingers. The humming ceased. "It's been designed to ward off intruders," Samantha explained. "It's protecting itself. It probes to determine your intent, and while it's probing, it discombobulates your thoughts. It essentially renders you helpless as it assesses your intentions." Neruda snapped back to reality when Samantha turned the device off. "Did you see the site?" "Yes," she said excitedly. "It's nearby. It's well-hidden, but I think we can find it." "What site? Where?" Evans asked, slightly bewildered. "I saw something, too," Neruda said. "I think I'd recognize it if I saw it again." "Fine, but do you know where we should begin looking?" "No," Neruda replied as if distracted by something. "I think I can locate it by a landmark I saw." Samantha set the object back into its foam nest within the case, struggled to her feet a bit, and plopped herself back into her chair with a long sigh. "You were about to tell us about a landmark," Evans reminded her. "It's a thin, pointed rock formation, like a chimney stack. It's maybe thirty meters high, ten in circumference at its base, but only about five meters at its top. There can't be too many of these rock formations around here. Can there?" "Did you see this, too?" Evans turned to Neruda ignoring Samantha's question. Neruda shook his head. "For some reason I didn't see anything I could identify as a landmark, it was more of an assemblage of images, like a mosaic. And most of these were of a cavern or something subterranean." "So what is it," Emily asked, "technology or a living intelligence?" "Maybe both." Neruda smiled. "Whatever it is, it knows us a lot better than we know it." "I don't know how it could be a living intelligence," Samantha began slowly, "but every bone in my body screams that it's alive. It's not an inanimate, programmed technology. It's a vital intelligence that is somehow stored inside or projected through this object." Then, in frustration, she added. "Oh, I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm speaking in gibberish tonight. Excuse me." "Under the circumstances, gibberish may be the only language of choice." Neruda smiled disarmingly and poured himself another cup of coffee. "You know, if it weren't for your coffee, Emily, I might've been dragged into unconsciousness by that thing." He laughed, and pointed with his free hand to the artifact. It looked tranquil like a baby bird asleep in its nest. "It's decaf," Emily replied with a deadpan expression. "So you're to blame for my lapse of concentration -" "I wish you'd take this a bit more seriously," Evans interjected. "We've just seen a technology render you two helpless, mentally rape you, as Samantha put it, and you're joking about the coffee." Neruda calmly turned to Emily. "Can you bring me the SMT chart... number 2507?" Turning to Samantha. "How long before you could have RePlay setup and operable?" "Ten minutes," She answered. "Fine, go ahead and get setup." Neruda turned to Evans with sudden impatience etched on his face. "And what did you want to do?" "Just observe... for now." Evans turned his gaze to the fire, detaching from Neruda's authoritative stare. Evans knew his presence on exploratory missions was always resented. He knew he put his colleagues on edge. He also knew it was his job to do so. Emily returned from her tent holding a large sheet of paper and a flashlight. She handed both to Neruda, who spread the chart out on the ground about two meters from the fire. The flashlight illuminated the center of the chart, which was covered in lines of various colors. Evans, Collin, and Emily all moved behind him, standing hunched over with hands on knees. Neruda was crouched with one knee on the ground. "Here's Samantha's landmark," Neruda pointed with both the flashlight beam and his index finger. There was a small point of tightly formed circles, almost concentric, in a rainbow of colors near the center of the topographical map. "It's isolated, the right proportions, and about thirty meters tall," he continued. "And it's about three kilometers due east from our camp." Let's wait on RePlay until morning," Evans said. "It's late, we know where we need to go. Let's all get some rest." His voice sounded clipped like a machine gun. Samantha came out of the tent with her monitor and a headpiece that looked a little like a wire cage for her head. No matter how many times Neruda saw it, he always thought it looked like the silliest technology he'd ever seen. Most of the technologies that the ACIO developed were never mass-produced or designed with a consumer perspective. They were built by hand, one at a time. How they looked was never considered important. "We're going to wait until morning, Samantha," Neruda said. "I'm sorry I wasted your time getting setup. But I think Jim's right, we should all get a good night's sleep and concentrate our energies on finding the site during the day." Samantha nodded, somewhat relieved that she wouldn't have to make further contact with the artifact that night. She was feeling drained of energy, and sleep sounded like the perfect prescription. "Anyone for more coffee?" Emily asked, her voice sounding a little tired. "Half a cup and then I'm on my way." Evans leaned forward with his arm extended holding his cup. The white Styrofoam gleamed beneath the stars, catching light from the fire and lantern and shedding it as easily as the moon. "Thanks for the coffee. We'll see you bright and early. Sleep well." "You, too," Emily returned. "Goodnight," Neruda chimed absentmindedly. Evans and Collin left together for their tent. "Damn, I wish we'd brought along a pair of infrared binoculars." Neruda looked up and slowly turned around in a 360-degree circle. "East is that direction," he pointed. "If I had binocs, I'd climb that ridge and have a look." "Remember, it was decaf." Emily said softly. "I think you should get some sleep, too. I know how many hours you've been putting in the last four days. Go to bed." "You're right." He closed the case of the artifact, then opened it again. "By the way," he turned to Samantha, "how'd you know how to turn off the artifact?" "What do you mean?" Samantha replied. "Don't you remember getting up and shutting this thing down?" Neruda asked. "No..." Samantha's eyes thinned to a line of fluttering eyelashes. She was concentrating her mind like a laser, and Neruda could see why Branson liked her so much. "I have absolutely no recollection of getting up and turning anything off. Are you sure?" She looked from Neruda to Emily. "I saw it, too," Emily confirmed. "You got up from your chair as quickly as if your pants were on fire. You picked up the artifact and began turning it in your... your left hand while your right hand was touching glyphs, in what at least looked like a specific order. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing." "If I did that, I don't remember." "Maybe your mind was a bit traumatized," Emily offered, "and you've got a mild case of amnesia." "That doesn't explain how she knew how to de-activate the artifact." Neruda glanced at Emily. "The artifact somehow planted this knowledge inside you without you remembering. You acted without knowing your actions." "So what're you saying?" Samantha asked. A nervous smile spread across her face, and her concentration scattered like smoke in the wind. "I think we should stop speculating," Neruda closed the case and buckled its latches with a loud, synchronized click. "The only thing I know for sure is that this thing is not an only child. It has brothers and sisters that're nearby. And I can't wait to find them." "How will you sleep tonight?" Emily asked with her southern accent fully lathered. Neruda just laughed and picked up the case. "I'll see you both in the morning. Good night." Neruda could hear Samantha's and Emily's muffled voices as he walked to his tent about twenty meters away. There was no movement in the desert air. It hung so perfectly still; Neruda felt its presence all the more. Andrews was asleep. His headphones were still on and a book was draped across his chest, face down, spread out like a wounded bird of prey. From the sound of his breathing, Neruda knew he was in deep sleep. A place he wanted to be also, but he knew too much about the day's events awaiting them. He couldn't sleep. At least not yet.
Though he lacked the infrared equipment he did have a compass. It was still fairly early by his standards - about 2300 hours. He took a few supplies with him in a small pack, selected a standard issue ACIO jacket that said DoD Weather Research Center in small block letters, and began walking in an easterly direction. He took a wide berth around the campsite careful to avoid detection by Evans. Neruda coveted his privacy such as it was. He knew very well that Evans or anyone associated with his security team could track his whereabouts. All ACIO personnel had embedded tracking devices that the ACIO satellite network could follow. No one liked it, but the Labyrinth Group conceded that it was necessary when the technology was developed in the mid-60s. It managed paranoia, as Fifteen explained. The implants were only the size of a grain of rice and inserted just below the neckline to the right of the spine. They transmitted an individual's unique body frequency. The ACIO discovered in 1959 that every person emitted a relatively stable and totally unique vibratory pattern. The bodyprint, as it was called within the ACIO, was every bit as reliable as a fingerprint. This discovery led to a technology that isolated a person's bodyprint and transmitted it to a satellite network jointly owned and operated by the NSA and ACIO. Defections within the ACIO were considered the greatest risk to its ongoing success and future. The bodyprint implant technology was the primary method through which ACIO employees were restrained from defecting. There were other technologies - both in development and fully deployed - that also minimized the risk. It was the one thing about the ACIO that Neruda had never been able to accept. A coyote's mournful howl brought Neruda to a full stop to get his bearings. He had cleared the campsite and was picking his way through the sparse Pinion trees and sagebrush. The moon was a thin, florescent sickle, its light as faint as a tired whisper despite the clear night air. In contrast, the stars almost glared at the desert landscape and managed to reveal enough desert flora and rocks so Neruda could pick his way at a comfortable pace. He felt more confident as he went out of visual range of the campsite so he turned on his flashlight and picked up his pace. His flashlight seemed uncomfortably powerful against the dark desert, and he felt like he was intruding into a restricted world. He made it to the top of the ridge he had pointed out to Emily only fifteen minutes earlier. He could see it, even without infrared. It looked just as Samantha said. A lonely, phallic-shaped sandstone formation looming over its neighborhood of gnarled trees, intricate sagebrush, and stunted rock outcroppings. When the binoculars came down from his eyes he could tell the site was less than two kilometers away. Neruda assessed his situation. He wasn't particularly tired. Maybe a little winded from the climb, but otherwise, his body and mind were wide-awake. The air temperature was cool, but the climb up the ridge left him feeling warm. Without hesitation, he walked towards the rock structure like it was home.
The smell of coffee and bacon woke Andrews even before the morning light seeped through the dark, green skin of the tent. He rolled over in his sleeping bag and heard the book crash as it found the red, rocky floor. It brought his eyes open with a start. No Neruda. His sleeping bag was empty and undisturbed. "Are you guys awake yet?" It was Emily radiating her cheerful voice outside the tent. "Yeah, we're up," Andrews replied through an unconcealed yawn, "but I haven't seen anything of Neruda. He must've gotten up early." "It's early right now. It's only six," Emily retorted, her voice less cheerful. "Well, if you haven't seen him and he's not in here, then he's probably with Collin or Evans." "No, they're eating breakfast, and they never mentioned seeing Neruda." Andrews unzipped his sleeping bag and stood up. "Maybe he liked the walk so much last night that he took another this morning. Shit, I don't know." "We never went for a walk last night." "Well, I'm sure he'll turn up soon. For one thing, the smell of coffee should draw him out if anything will. It's working on me." "If you see him, tell'um we have eggs, bacon, and coffee ready." "Was breakfast just for the bossman, or was I invited too?" "Oh, okay, you can come too, I guess." Emily laughed. Andrews could hear her footsteps fade as she walked away. Evans was reviewing maps when he looked up, "Any sign of Jamisson yet?" He took a sip of coffee. "None that I've seen," Andrews replied, "but then I've hardly been looking for him either." "Maybe we should..." "I can't believe he'd just leave the camp," Emily said. "Did you see him at all last night?" Andrews was heaping eggs and bacon on his plate. "I don't know... I don't remember seeing him at all last night. But when I sleep, I'm out cold." "He went to the site," Evans said with incredulity in his voice. "He broke protocol again. He couldn't wait until the morning. I'll bet he went last night after we went to bed." Evans pulled out a small black box about the size of a pack of cigarettes. The ACIO only used secure lines when communicating, and the black box was a digital paging device. His large hand, resembling tanned leather, completely smothered the object as his thumb pressed a green button. He turned his back, and in a hushed voiced, spoke into its transmitter, "Immediately perform a bodyprint scan for Neruda. Send exact coordinates. Determine movement boundaries within one meter." He pushed the send button and waited for message confirmation. An amber-colored light blinked and Evans put the pager back into his vest pocket. The ACIO preferred single-loop, or non-real-time communication. It was much harder to decode because encryption was changed every time a message was sent; thus the context was nearly impossible to derive. But it frustrated Evans sometimes because it took longer to get an answer. "Is the artifact still in your tent?" Evans asked turning to Andrews. "Far as I know. The case is there, I assume the artifact is inside." Emily jumped to Neruda's defense, "Are you implying he'd take the artifact and go to the site without us?" "He's at the site," Evans replied. "He probably didn't take the artifact only because of its weight. But trust me, he's there." "And why would he do that?" Andrews asked, his mouth full of food. "You don't know about last night, do you?" Emily asked. "No... I was sleeping, remember?" "Samantha and Jamisson were both communicating with the artifact. It somehow activated and sent them images of where its homebase was. We got a pretty good fix on its location... about three kilometers east of our position." Evans stood up from the folding table, and pulled his pager out of his pocket. "What's taking them so damn long?" "It's very early, maybe they're short-staffed," Emily offered. "So when will we leave for this site?" Samantha asked. "As soon as I get verification, I'll call our ride." Andrews turned to look east for a quick glance. "Looks like a pretty good climb up that ridge. How're we going to carry the artifact?" He shoved more food in his mouth like a parolee's first taste of home cooking. "We're all being airlifted. Don't worry." Evans' voice revealed that his thoughts were elsewhere. "Damn it, Jenkins! What's taking you so long?" "So tell me what happened last night with you and the artifact." Andrews stole a quick look at Samantha and then anchored his eyes on the scrambled eggs he was devouring. Samantha stuttered a bit, unsure of how to describe her experience. "I saw an image of its homebase." "And we know it's three miles east because... because you saw an image of... of what?" Andrews asked. "An unusual rock formation." Samantha found herself reluctant to talk. Her psychic abilities had been questioned and ridiculed her entire life, and she had become expert at sniffing out what she called, trip-up questions. It had taught her the skill of calculated reticence even among her ACIO colleagues. "She also saw a cavern -" "Finally!" Evans exclaimed before Emily could finish her thought. He sat down and scanned the small display screen cupping his hand to shield it from the awakening sun. His lips moved, but surrendered no sound as he read the message:
"He's at the site, and he's sleeping," Evans made no effort to conceal his frustration. He glanced at his wristwatch. "Let's get ready. Bird'll be here in less than fifteen minutes." Evans walked away without another word. Emily looked at Samantha as if to read her eyes for an explanation, but Samantha could only stare to the eastern ridge, her mind squarely on the task ahead. "Did you notice if he took his sleeping bag?" Emily asked. "He didn't take it," Andrews replied. "It was unused." "I can't imagine Neruda sleeping out in the desert without a sleeping bag," Emily said, "let alone his morning coffee. Something's wrong." "You think he's injured?" "I don't know, but something's wrong." Emily turned to face Samantha. "What do you feel?" Samantha looked to Emily with a sense of empathy. "He's okay. That's what I feel." "That's it? That's all you can tell me?" "That's all I know." "You don't feel he's in any danger?" "No." Emily's face visibly relaxed. "If we're going to keep up with Evans, we better get in high gear." "Shit, if there's one thing you can count on, Neruda's too damn smart to put himself in danger." Andrews' voice was consoling. He rustled a few paper plates into a plastic garbage bag, and handed it to Emily. "Anyway, I have to disassemble a tent in five minutes that took us thirty to put up. I better run. See ya in ten." There was little doubt in Andrews' mind that Emily was more than professionally attached to Neruda. It wasn't maternal instinct that alarmed her to Neruda's condition. It was a longing to fall in love, and her latest inquiry only underscored that fact, at least in Andrews' mind. Emily faithfully waited at the edge of the friendship line watching for a signal from Neruda that it was okay to cross. She had waited there for nearly two years. No clear signals. The line had barely moved, but she told herself, patience begets the prize. Besides, there were no alternatives. After her first marriage crumbled, she had grown cautious - perhaps even paranoid - of men, and then her teaching position at Cambridge also crumbled, for the same reason: cancer. During her yearlong convalescence she held her esteem by a thread. Completely rejected and alone, Neruda appeared from no where to offer her a job and a new start on life. He was her savior in many ways. Emily feared that she'd get too close and he'd become wary of her. So she waited, but her patience was beginning to crumble.
"Last chance, do you want to walk it or ride?" Evans' voice was barely audible above the roar of the helicopter. Sand was ripping through her hair and pricking her skin like tiny scythes eager for blood. Emily finally relented to ride. "I just think we should send someone by foot in case he retraces his steps." She sat down in the seat beside Evans with a scowl on her face. "The point is," Evans began, "is that he's still sleeping or I would've been updated on his change of position." "How will we pick up his trail when we land?" Emily asked. "This thing puts out hurricane-force winds." She waved her hands in the air wildly to emphasize her discontent. "Look, we'll land a half kilometer east of his position and double back. Okay?" Evans dropped his head to peer over his bifocals, which he had donned to look at a map. He knew it gave him an authoritative look. "Okay." Emily echoed silently with her lips. It was only seconds later that Collin pointed to the spindly rock tower that loomed ahead. It was an eerie structure. Silhouetted against the rising sun, it looked like a stack of coins ready to fall at a mere breath. The helicopter reached its position in less than five minutes. Emily kept an eye on the rocky terrain throughout the ride, while Evans was preoccupied with the map. Samantha closed her eyes seemingly troubled by the noisy ride, or perhaps to avoid a conversation with Andrews. The copilot came back to the passenger chamber and told them that they were going to land directly below, and everyone should get ready to jump out. Samantha held her stomach and grimaced, obviously unsettled by the sudden drop in elevation. They filed off the chopper quickly, Evans first, assisting everyone else to a safe exit. The copilot handed some backpacks to Evans and Collin, and then the aluminum case was delicately transferred to Evans. "We'll be on standby unless we hear from you, otherwise we'll rendezvous at these coordinates at 1800 hours. Good luck." Evans acknowledged the copilot with a wave of his hand, and the helicopter sped away like a large beetle. The ensuing silence swallowed them as only the desert can do. "So where the hell do we pick up his trail?" Andrews asked, a little uncomfortable with how loud his voice suddenly seemed. "Before we get started, there's a few protocols we all need to bear in mind from this point forward," Evans was pivoting his head to survey the landscape as if he was getting his bearings. "First, base communication is exclusively through me. Second, if we find anything peculiar - like the homebase of this artifact - we operate in reconnaissance mode only. We secure the site; we don't explore it. Understood?" Everyone nodded as Evans swiveled his head to look for a response. "And keep hydrated. We'll stop periodically to rest and take water. If anyone needs more frequent rests, just say so. Otherwise we'll press on." Evans looked west for a few moments; his nostrils flaring like he was a bloodhound sniffing out its prey. "We have his coordinates, we'll start there and then walk in a westerly, southwesterly direction until we spot his trail. In this mixture of sand and stone, it shouldn't be too hard to see his footprints." "What about Samantha?" Emily asked. "Couldn't she help?" "Let's try it the old-fashioned way first," Evans answered. "If we don't pick up his trail in the next twenty minutes, we'll look at other alternatives - including RV." Andrews looked to Evans after taking a long sip of water from his canteen. "If you really want to try the old-fashioned way, how bout yelling at the top of our lungs?" "Let's find his trail first. Then we can yell." Evans laughed under his breath as he walked towards the coordinates that disclosed Neruda's bodyprint. Andrews adjusted his backpack and became the thing he hated the most: a follower. Evans picked a path through two rock arroyos that were about 50 meters across. The rocks were the color of light cinnamon, and as the sun was rising in the east, they bore a reddish tint. The air was completely still and the jackets were beginning to feel a little too warm as they walked their way through the sparse desert underbrush.
Only ten minutes into their trek, Collin found a footprint. "Neruda!" Evans immediately yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth. He called several times in the direction of the footprints and waited for a response. A slight echo accompanied his call, but nothing resembling Neruda's voice. Emily tried as well, but to the same effect. "Isn't it reasonable to assume he's hurt?" Emily asked, turning to Evans. "I mean let's face it, Neruda's not prone to sleep in the open desert without a sleeping bag. Something happened to him." Her voice trailed off to a whisper. "And it can't be good." "We don't know that for certain," Evans argued. "His vitals were fine. I'm sure he's just sleeping." "Then why isn't he answering us?" "Let's just follow his trail and find out," Collin replied like a mediator. "No sense standing around speculating." Collin was very thin, mid-forties, with reddish-brown hair revealing a hint of silver over both ears, and a single streak on top to match. He seemed uncomfortable standing in one spot for long, as if his bird-like legs couldn't support his body weight. "NERUDA!" Evans called one more time, his voice sounding increasingly impatient at the return of silence. "Let's go wake him up," Evans said. They followed his tracks easily, until they came to a rock outcropping where his trail became more suspect. They fanned out, scattering themselves like ants in search of food. But his trail had disappeared. No one could find anymore footprints. "He's got to be somewhere in these rocks. Maybe there's a ledge or cave somewhere." It was Evans' voice yelling to the rest of the team. "Look for any signs of a crevice or opening in the rocks." Emily could sense a growing concern in his voice. She could feel a tension in the air. Everyone was aware that they could be within a few meters of an ET homebase. Perhaps an active site. The disappearance of Neruda compounded the strange sense of impending doom or discovery. "I found a print," shouted Samantha. "It's the same as the others... I... I think." She was kneeling near the print with a stick in her hand pointing it out as everyone arrived. "Good," remarked Evans. "Now we know which direction he was going." Everyone fan out five meters apart and let's walk slowly." "NERUDA!" Emily shouted again. A stronger echo sounded now that they were in the depths of a canyon wall. They were approaching a massive wall of rock that towered 40 meters in a nearly vertical line. They walked deliberately, their heads pivoting like surveillance cameras. "I think I found another print," Samantha said, "but I'm not sure." "It's as if he disappeared into this wall of rock," Andrews said. "Why would he have come here? Isn't that the rock you saw in your vision?" He was pointing, like a hitchhiker, to the slender rock structure directly behind them about 100 meters away. "Looks like a print, but it's not a clear one. Unfortunately, there's not much sand or loose rock around here." Evans closed his eyes momentarily as if he were trying to clear his mind to focus on Neruda's whereabouts. "He's nearby. I can feel him. He's not sleeping. He's awake." Evans' voice sounded distant, as if he was talking to himself. "I think he's in there." His hand was pointing directly ahead to the sheer rock face of the canyon wall. "If he's in there, how'd he get in?" Emily asked. "There must be an opening somewhere. Let's examine the rock face carefully. There's an opening somewhere." "Maybe we should use the artifact," Samantha offered. "If it's a homing device, and we're this close -" "Let's find Neruda first," Evans snapped, "and worry about the artifact's homebase later." "But maybe they're one and the same location," Samantha said hesitantly. "I doubt it." Evans looked away, staring with his gunmetal eyes to the wall in front of them. "How the hell would he find the homebase without the artifact? Especially at night." "I don't know, but then how'd I know how to turn the artifact off last night?" Samantha's words hung weightless in the crisp morning air surrounded in deep silence like an archipelago in a turquoise sea. "Okay, we'll look for an opening first... and if we don't find anything in ten minutes, we'll try the artifact." "Why not let Samantha fiddle with the little monster while we look for a doorway into this fucking mountain?" Evans sighed. He looked to Emily and Collin to see their reaction to Andrews' suggestion. "Emily, you look over there. Collin, try that side beyond those rocks. Andrews, take that ledge over there, just beyond those small trees. I'll take the center so I can stay close to Samantha in case anything happens. If you see anything that even vaguely resembles an opening, let me know immediately." "I still don't see why you think he's in there," Andrews was looking disdainfully at the massive rock wall in front of the team. "Maybe he was just fucking lost. One footprint shouldn't -" "Look," Evans said, barely checking his anger, "I feel that he's in there. That's good enough for me. If it's not good enough for you, look elsewhere, but stop arguing with me." Andrews looked down pretending to examine the footprint. "Let's go." Evans started to walk away and then stopped abruptly to look at Samantha. "Are you okay with this?" "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sure I'll be okay." She smiled weakly, resigned to the fact that she'd be alone with the artifact. "I'm only seconds away. Call if you need anything." "Good luck," she managed to say under her breath as they dispersed to their assigned search areas. Emily waited while the others walked away. "Samantha," Emily said quietly, "are you going to RV Neruda?" "It doesn't sound like I need to. Evans knows he's in there. He's SL-Fourteen. I'm not going to argue with him." "They're not perfect," Emily said. "I've heard stories about their psychic abilities, too, but I think it'd be a good idea to RV him if for no other reasons than to corroborate Evans' assumptions." "I can do that," Samantha offered. "Thanks, you're a sweetheart." "You're very welcome," Samantha replied, smiling to the ground. "Oh, by the way," Emily asked, "do you remember how to turn off the artifact if it re-activates?" "I've no idea, but then that didn't stop me before. Besides, I think we're acquainted now. I have a feeling it will behave differently with me now." "I hope you're right," Emily patted her lightly on the shoulder as she walked by in pursuit of Neruda's whereabouts. She liked Samantha's shy, sensitive nature. It reminded her of herself some years earlier. Before the cancer. The wall of rock loomed before them blocking the sun's rays and casting a sense of surreal beauty and mystery. In the shadow of the wall the air was cool, but the absolute calm made it tolerable even without a jacket. The rocks that had fallen from the mammoth wall over the millennium were the size of small houses. It was easy to imagine how it might have looked and sounded when they fell like glacial shards. Samantha busied herself with the task of setting up RePlay and preparing for her encounter with the artifact. She always preferred to work alone when she was doing RV work. All she required was a data input, which were usually search coordinates and time frame. It was odd, but if she knew too much about the search parameters, she was less likely to be accurate. Branson called the phenomenon Ghost-Knotting, somehow implying that too much knowledge about the search confounded the free flow of psychic energy. Samantha had experienced this only once before, and it troubled her now because she was in similar circumstances. She knew the subject, location, and the objectives of the search. Consciously, it would be hard to let go of her knowledge and simply see and hear the images that press upon her during a remote viewing session. The images are so delicate and fragile. They require complete absorption. Otherwise, they dissipate before they can be understood and made sensible by RePlay. As she donned her headgear, affectionately called the Brain Shell, she opened the case. The artifact was quiet. She was a little surprised. Maybe she had turned it off permanently. Or maybe its mission was completed last night. She looked over the object carefully, touching its casing as if it were a newborn babe. She flipped the switch for RePlay, adjusted the capture sensitivity, settled into a sitting position with legs crossed Indian style, and closed her eyes like heavy doors shutting out the noise of a busy street. At the last second, she had changed her mission objectives from locating Neruda to identifying the location of the artifact's homebase. She rationalized that Neruda would be there anyway, and with this strategy, she'd kill two birds with one stone. Within moments, she began to see an image emerge on the screen of her mind. Her boss referred to this phenomenon as BS Static because the Brain Shell, when it was first turned on, often produced an image of its own in the RV operative. It had something to do with its electrical field and its proximity to the visual cortex. However, this image was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Three hazy shapes were forming that looked like green rectangles floating in a gray-brown light. Her mind's eye squinted in reflex to the diffuse shapes, hoping that she could resolve their shape and purpose, but nothing she did made a difference. They looked a little like doorways - though she didn't intuit that that was their purpose. The rectangles, hovering in space, began to spin - each in different directions. The first remained vertical, spinning counter clockwise; the second rotated forward lengthwise like a windmill; and the third spun clockwise in the vertical plane. Without warning, she became aware that the artifact was humming and that it was somehow connected to the image - the motion - she saw. She decided to test the door hypothesis and approached the objects. As she came closer they stopped, and the humming from the artifact became silent. She thought about stopping the session, but there was something about the way these rectangular shapes commanded her attention. There was a presence, a power that they exuded, which she had never before encountered. It seemed natural and unnatural at the same time, and it was this paradox that drew her forward. Samantha reached out to touch the middle object, and as she did, the shape changed. It began to take on characteristics of a human male, elderly, tall, bearded, looking the part of a wizard with eyes that bore into hers with such intensity she could only turn away. "Do not fear us," a voice filled her, reverberating inside. It was as if every cell in her body had suddenly grown ears. "We are what you seek, what you have always sought," the voice continued. It was authoritative, yet gentle. "You are being led even at this very moment to find what we have left for you. It is already within your grasp, and when you find your fingers reaching for it, close them securely without hesitation. Without fear. We tell you that it is the only way. The only way." The words gave way to silence. Samantha looked again at the being that was before her. It had reverted to the form of a rectangle. Hovering like a green, featureless door. She spoke from pure instinct. "What is within our grasp?" "The way into our world," the voice replied. "Your world?" She echoed without thinking. "You will only find our world if you proceed without fear. It is the only barrier into our world that is impenetrable." "Why do you want us to find your world?" Samantha asked, aware that her voice sounded perplexed. "We have been within your species since its creation on this planet that you call earth. We are within your DNA - encoded into the invisible structures that surround and support your DNA. Our world is both within you and more distant than your mind can comprehend. You will find our world because you need our assistance to awaken a part of your nature that is hidden from your view behind the languages of your world." "Hidden?" Samantha asked. "In what way?" An image of earth, encircled in a latticework of light filaments, filled the surface of the center rectangle. It was as if a three-dimensional movie was being projected on its surface. "Your planet is of interest to an extraterrestrial species that you are not aware of at this time. It is a species more advanced and more dangerous than your average citizen can imagine. If humankind is destined to be the stewards of this genetic library called earth, which we so carefully cultivated and exported to this galaxy, then it will need to defend itself from this predator race." The image of earth enlarged as if a camera was slowly zooming in on the diminutive blue sphere, floating in the vastness of an ink-black space. Samantha began to notice several pulsing lights that seemed to mark strategic locations on the planet. Her eyes locked onto the general area of New Mexico, where she saw a location marker. "What is hidden from you," the voice continued, "is that your planet is part of an interconnected universe that operates in ordered chaos outside the constructs, instruments, technologies, and formulaic inventions of your scientists. There is something beneath the particle and wave, beneath the subconscious, beneath the spiritual resonance of earth's greatest teachers, and this Language of Unity remains hidden from you. It is encoded in your DNA. We did this. And we placed the triggers within your DNA that would awaken your ability to survive a shift in your genetic makeup." "Why? Why do we need to make a genetic shift?" She couldn't contain her skepticism, but as she spoke the words she could feel her fear begin to rise. Whatever she was interacting with was an unknown, and she knew that to trust anything or anyone in a self-directed RV session was folly. "You will find out soon enough," the voice replied. "After this encounter, you will feel a new confidence in your powers of inquiry. It is the one element that will sustain you in the face of doubt and fear that will confront you in the weeks ahead. On a level that you have never seen, you are a holographic entity that is woven throughout all things, and when you touch into this feeling, you awaken a frequency of your consciousness that will guide you into our world. You have no reason to believe us, yet you know our words have no other purpose than to awaken a part of you long dormant. We are the WingMakers. We leave you in the Light that is One." The rectangles blurred into a greenish-gold light that completely filled her vision. The sound of Andrews' distant voice broke her concentration, and she regained her human composure, faintly aware that she had lost contact with the most amazing force she had ever seen.
Very few people in the mysterious world of Fifteen made him uneasy, but Darius McGavin was one of them. McGavin was the director of the NSA's Special Projects Laboratory. Ostensibly, McGavin masqueraded as Fifteen's supervisor because the ACIO had been established as an unacknowledged department of the Special Projects Laboratory when UFO activity became an imperative in the late 1940s. Technically, Fifteen reported to McGavin. Fifteen's stealth and intellect were so refined that McGavin was completely unaware of the real scope of the ACIO, its true mission and objectives, or the existence of the Labyrinth Group and its TTP with the Corteum. It was truly a masterful cover-up considering the paranoia and technological prowess of the NSA. But what really disturbed Fifteen was that McGavin was making an unscheduled, short-notice visit, which could only mean one thing: a serious problem was underfoot. Very often these serious problems were rumors about the ACIO's clandestine initiatives with the military industrial complex, or private sector industry partners. Fifteen found these short-notice visits a royal pain in the ass. McGavin was arrogant, and splendidly ill informed; a combination that Fifteen could only tolerate in small doses. He had already arranged a series of urgent meetings surrounding his obligatory meeting with McGavin. If he were lucky, McGavin would be back enroute to Virginia in a mere 30 minutes. It was 1100 hours when the knock on his door reminded him to look chipper and smile like a party host. His back spasms were attacking him more than usual, but he never used painkillers or any kind of medical aid. He ambled over to the door with his white cane rehearsing his smile one last time. "Darius, how good to see you." "Good to see you as well." McGavin replied. "What's with the cane? You're not actually getting old are you?" He snickered as he walked by Fifteen to seat himself at his small, desk-side table. McGavin set his briefcase down and gathered himself in the waiting chair, running his hands over his hairless head as if some phantom hair still remained. "I'm just having a few back spasms the past few weeks. The cane, well, it's just for sympathy." He smiled politely, just as he had practiced. McGavin was a rare combination of technical genius and political astuteness. Graduating from the Air Force Academy in 1975 top in his class, he went on to MIT, graduating with a mechanical engineering degree, and then adding an advanced degree in quantum physics from Yale. He was the perfect student, blessed with the ability to study the professor's biases, and reflect them like a newly polished mirror. The NSA recruited him when he was only 23 years old and fast-tracked his career into the SPL. In just eleven years, he became its director. Fifteen had already been the Executive Director of the ACIO for 18 years when McGavin took the reins at the SPL. Fifteen could barely stomach the charade of being a subordinate to the indolent youngster, as he often referred to McGavin within the Labyrinth Group. "So tell me the nature of your visit," Fifteen intoned as he eased himself into his chair. His voice resonated with such absolute confidence that McGavin instantly shifted in his chair like a schoolboy called into the principal's office. "Actually, I was hoping you could help me understand what these are?" McGavin opened a small glass vile, which contained a small electronic device about the size and general shape of a thimble. Fifteen instantly recognized it as one of the ACIO's phone tap technologies they used for setting up their Listening Fences. Fifteen put his bifocals on, picked up the device with his hand and examined it closely. "Looks like a wire tap to me. I could have one of our electronics people take an internal scan -" "Two curious things have occurred this week that don't add up." McGavin's face took on a serious cast and his voice fell to a whisper. "First, a Professor from the University of New Mexico has sworn in an affidavit that he was intimidated by the NSA to turn over an unusual artifact discovered only days ago by some student hikers. Secondly, we have evidence that two ACIO missions were launched to New Mexico - only a few miles from the discovery point of this artifact - in the past four days. One as recently as yesterday." McGavin paused, taking inventory of Fifteen's body language, looking for any clues to embroider his analysis. Fifteen remained motionless in all respects, waiting for McGavin to continue his story. "And then this morning our agents, in an attempt to corroborate this Professor's claim, did a routine sweep of his home and office. We found seven of these devices. They look similar to our own surveillance devices, but they're more sophisticated, according to our electronics people." "And you thought the coincidence of an ACIO mission to New Mexico and this Professor's sworn affidavit were irreconcilable. Right?" Fifteen had a pained expression on his face. McGavin nodded. "Look, just tell me what's going on. You damn well know that you have to report your activities or I'm forced to assume you've gone rogue. You know the protocol under those circumstances. So just tell me straight out, what the fuck is going on?" Fifteen pushed back his chair and stood up awkwardly. With cane in hand, he shuffled over to his desk and took out a large file folder. He plopped it on the table in front of McGavin. "Here's everything I know." McGavin opened up the file and began to scan several documents. "You can't probe it?" "We can't get anything out of the damn thing. It's a sealed technology. So tight we're completely perplexed. We sent two scientific teams to the general area hoping to find something else." "And...?" "Nothing so far," Fifteen replied. McGavin's eyes turned again to the file documents. "Why didn't you report this?" "There was nothing noteworthy to report. We're only four days into our investigation -" "Four days is a long time my friend. In this business, it can be a lifetime." McGavin set the file down. His fingers were nervously fidgeting with the plastic tab that read, ANCIENT ARROW. "So you have an alien artifact, a project name, you've sent this professor into major panic, you wiretap his office and home, but you don't think you have anything noteworthy to share with me." Fifteen listened intently. He restored the concerned look on his face, and painfully gathered himself into his chair. "I know you'd prefer more instant communication, but we have nothing to report -" "You have a fucking alien technology! Now I'm not the expert about these technologies that you are, but if you can't probe this thing, then it's damn sophisticated. For all you know, it's a weapon or probe of some kind. The operating protocol states that any evidence of an alien technology must immediately be communicated with SPL. You know this as clearly as I do." McGavin lowered his voice. "You know I have to set-up an investigation. It smells like a cover-up. I don't want to waste my time and energy investigating the most productive laboratory in the NSA's holdings. It's a fucking waste. But I have no choice." "I completely understand," Fifteen said. "While it's an inconvenience, we'll cooperate in every way we can." "You can start by having Evans contact Denise Shorter and arranging to have a shadow agent assigned to the Ancient Arrow Project. We'll keep the communication loops open if we're involved in the project." "Of course. He'll contact her tomorrow." "No, today. I don't want anymore delays in communication." "Evans is on a field assignment until tomorrow. He's without secure communication -" "Then have Jenkins make the arrangements," McGavin replied. "I don't give a shit who calls Shorter, just get it done immediately. "Look, I'm well aware of all the rumors surrounding this fiefdom you've built. I know you like to play games, and I know you have powerful allies. But don't fuck with me. Just communicate what you know through standard channels. If you're too busy, then Li-Ching can do it for you. I don't care who performs the communication. I just want to have confidence that when you put a project name on a file folder that you'll send a duplicate file to my office within minutes. Not hours. Minutes. Understood?" "Completely." "And one more thing -" A knock on the door interrupted McGavin. "Yes," came Fifteen's voice. The door opened slowly and a man poked his head into the office. "I apologize for the interruption, sir, but your next appointment is here. Which conference room would you like them to await you?" "We were just finishing up," Fifteen said, "let's use the Hylo Room." "Thank you, sir." The door closed without a sound. "You were saying...?" Fifteen reminded. "What's so special about this artifact?" "We don't know if anything is special about it. It may turn out that this thing is truly a sealed technology, which would be a shame, but nonetheless, if we can't probe it, there's not much we can do but place it in storage and wait until we have the technology to probe it. "I noticed you had nothing in the file about RV analyses. I assume you'll do an RV." "Yes, of course." "I'd like to see the RePlay tapes when you have them." "Of course." McGavin looked around the spacious office of Fifteen as if he was stalling. Fifteen knew that he was annoyed by the fact that another appointment had been scheduled so close to his own. "I will fry your ass if I find anything that looks even remotely suspicious about this project. You might think that you're well beyond the reach of my powers, but let me remind you that your budget has my signature on it. Don't fuck with me." With that, McGavin stood up and opened his briefcase. "I assume I can take this with me?" He held the file folder that Fifteen had given him to read. "Of course." "I'll call Shorter in thirty minutes," McGavin said. "I trust she'll have spoken with Jenkins by then." McGavin closed his briefcase, returned his chair to its previous position, and walked to the door escorted by Fifteen. McGavin put his hand on the doorknob, stopped short of opening the door, and looked directly into Fifteen's eyes. "Octavio, I have doubts about your motives and your operation. And these doubts... they trouble me. And when I'm troubled, I get paranoid. And this paranoia... it makes me ruthless." "What're you trying to say?" Fifteen asked innocently. "I can make your life a living hell if I can't trust you." "You now know as much as I do about the Ancient Arrow Project," Fifteen calmly replied. "We'll all do a better job of keeping you informed. We just didn't think we had anything worthy of distracting you. I see now that we miscalculated. It won't happen again. I assure you." "Pray that it doesn't." The two shook hands and bid each other a good day. Fifteen closed his office door. He laid his cane on the table and sat down in the same chair that McGavin had sat in moments earlier. He closed his eyes. His face completely relaxed. His hands went underneath the table and pulled out a small, black object. Fifteen leaned closer to inspect the device, and slowly smiled. A knock on his door interrupted him. "Yes." "Sorry to interrupt, but I was curious to know how your meeting with McGavin went." It was Li-Ching. She was wearing a red wool skirt that draped to her ankles, and a sleeveless white silk blouse. Her raven-black hair was tied back in an exotic ponytail that was held together by a silver lattice of thread. Fifteen held the tiny black object up for her to see, and smiled broadly like the Cheshire cat. She sat down on the edge of the table next to Fifteen; a narrow slit in her skirt parted to reveal her ivory legs, perfectly turned as if by a lathe. "Judging from your face, it went pretty well." "Yes," Fifteen replied, "but it's a pity he doesn't trust us." Fifteen took his cane and delivered a fatal blow to the electronic listening device that McGavin left behind. "Only one this time?" "Only one," Fifteen sighed. "You'd think he'd give up on this pointless effort to wire my office." "He just wants to remind you that he's watching and listening," Li-Ching said. "You know the strategy, the more paranoid you are, the more mistakes you're bound to make." "He wants to get rid of me." "No, he wants to get rid of the ACIO and its separate cover and independence. He's no dummy. He knows that the only way he'll ever seize control of the SPL agenda is if the ACIO is integrated within his department. That's where he's headed. Everything he does is designed to move him closer to that goal." "Perhaps if he knew what we really did, his interests would wane." "What do you have in mind?" "The damn idiot ordered an investigation - ostensibly to determine whether we went rogue on the Ancient Arrow Project, but I'm sure his real agenda is to snoop into our technologies. They found the Level Five Listening Fence in Steven's home and office." "Shit!" Li-Ching stood up and started pacing. "He suspects we're keeping the pure-state technologies and sending them diluted versions. This investigation will center on that. He wants proof. With that in hand, he'll try to remove me." "God, what a waste of time." Li-Ching said. "He doesn't know that." "Well, then he is a dumb-ass after all." "Let's let him have his investigation, shadow agent, and anything else he requires. Evans will take care of the SPL agent and you'll take care of all the communication protocols." "Did you give him the Ancient Arrow file I prepared?" "Of course," Fifteen replied. "He seemed satisfied, at least partially." "Most of it's true anyway. I didn't have to doctor much." "He wants the RePlay tapes from our RV department related to the artifact." Fifteen sighed. "You'll need to get Branson working on that immediately. I'd like to approve the script before we make the tape." "Understood." Li-Ching's voice seemed far away as if she were thinking about an entirely unrelated issue. "You implied earlier that you wanted him to know what we really do around here. What did you mean?" "Let's give him evidence of what he already believes is true. He doesn't have any clue about Labyrinth or Corteum. He may have heard some disjointed rumors, but nothing more. He believes we're rogue and that we've not shared some of our best technologies." "You want Ortmann to leak some of our more benign pure-state technologies... like our listening fences?" "Yes, can you have him put a list together as to which technologies he thinks we can live without?" "No problem." "I want McGavin to feel victory. He'll relax then, and get off our collective back." "Anything else?" "Stevens is unstable," Fifteen said. "I think he needs a reminder visit and a Level Seven Listening Fence." "What about memory restructure?" "The damage's done. If he suddenly forgets, it might only worsen our situation by alarming his colleagues who already know, not to mention McGavin. No, let's have Morrison pay him a reminder visit ASAP. Jenkins can reinstall the listening fence." "Okay." Li-Ching sat down again on the table's edge. Her skirt parted as she crossed her legs. Fifteen's hand wandered to the exposed leg and he smiled with his mischievous eyes. "Damn McGavin!" Fifteen's fist pounded the table. "I can't have my way with you right now... I just remembered that I need to confer with Jenkins on an urgent matter." He stood up abruptly and Li-Ching understood her time with him was finished. She kissed his cheek and whispered something in his ear. Fifteen's eyes narrowed as he listened attentively. Li-Ching finished as Fifteen's face visibly flushed to a reddish hue. "Just in case McGavin managed to plant more than one listening device," Li-Ching said. She disappeared before Fifteen could utter a sound of protest. As the door closed, he struggled a moment to remember Jenkins' extension.
Evans saw an indentation in the canyon wall out of the corner of his eye. It was small, only about half a meter high, but it was clearly an opening into the cliff face. He resisted the urge to call his colleagues. Instead he kneeled down and peered into the darkness of the fissure, and in a loud voice called Neruda's name several times. He listened with all his power, and a faint voice returned, "I'm here. I'm in here." There was more, but Evans couldn't understand the rest of it. There was urgency in the voice that was unsettling. Something was awry. The voice sounded like Neruda's, but lacked his normal vitality. He was hurt. That was the only plausible explanation. Evans yelled with all his force. "We'll be there in just a few minutes. Hang on." He immediately stood up and yelled to his team. "I found him! Everyone follow my voice and come here!" He continued to yell, "I found him!" every few seconds. In a matter of minutes the entire team was assembled except for Andrews. "What happened to Andrews?" Evans asked. "He's carrying the Little Monster as he refers to it," Samantha said. "He offered." She put her arms out, palms up, as if implying a small miracle occurred. "I can only imagine how long we'll have to wait," Evans said in disgust. "We don't have time. Collin, you and I will go ahead and locate Neruda. He's probably trapped himself in a narrow tunnel. I can't believe he'd do that... at night no less. "The rest of you wait here for Andrews. We'll be back as soon as possible - hopefully with Neruda." "Can't I join you?" Emily asked. "We don't both have to wait for Andrews." She looked to Samantha and then Evans. "Okay, but be extremely careful, and stay right behind us. Samantha, keep yelling every so often so Andrews has something to track." "Okay," she replied. "Everyone has their flashlights, I presume," Evans stated like a commandment. "I have a rope, first-aid kit, and some food and water. Anything else you can think of?" Emily and Collin looked at one another and shook their heads. "Then let's go." The three disappeared into the open fissure like travelers moving through a portal into a new world. Evans went first and had the most difficulty getting through because of his physical size. Only after contorting his shoulders and head like a magician trying to release from a straight jacket did he find success. On the other side of the opening was a large chamber or cavern about 20 meters in diameter, with an opening into darkness on the far side of the chamber. Their flashlights sliced effortlessly through the interior darkness, crisscrossing randomly across the brown stone. "Neruda, where are you?" Evans shouted. "I'm here," came the faint reply. "Can you give us directions to where you are," shouted Emily. "Good to hear your voices..." answered Neruda. "I'm straight ahead. Go to the opening and stay straight for about another twenty meters or so. You'll come to a fork in the tunnel, stay to the right. However, before you take another step, listen carefully. "This is homebase. I don't have any real evidence yet. But as you move deeper into the interior, you'll notice it becomes increasingly sophisticated in its design. And part of this sophistication is in its security system." "Come again?" Evans shouted. "There's some form of a security system surrounding this system of tunnels. I fell into one of its traps because I wasn't expecting any such sophistication, but believe me, the entire place could be filled with traps. In other words, be extremely careful." "Any advice?" Collin asked. "Go slowly and retrace my steps until you come to a glyph carved in the wall of tunnel - it's on the right side of the tunnel wall. I'm okay. If it takes you an hour to get here that's fine, just get here safely." "Are you trapped?" Collin asked. "Most definitely." "What happened? Maybe we can learn from your experience." "The problem is I don't know what I did. I may have touched a pressure sensitive pad, or tripped a wire. I'm not sure. All I know is that it happened so quickly that I couldn't react fast enough to save myself. I fell quite a distance, but nothing's broken." "Okay, we'll take your advice. Be patient." Evans yelled in return. "Don't worry, I'm not planning to go anywhere," Neruda replied faintly. Evans, Collin, and Emily looked like statues anchored to the ground. Their flashlights were scanning the floor of dust, dirt, and rocks looking for any sign of potential danger, and Neruda's tracks. The light beam of their flashlights would occasionally illuminate an animal skull or skeletal carcass of a wayward rabbit stashed against the wall of the chamber like windblown trash collects against a fence. "I think we have a clear path to the tunnel entrance," Evans remarked. Evans carefully picked his way toward the tunnel opening at the far end of the chamber. Collin, then Emily, followed close behind each trying their best to trace the exact same footprints that Evans left behind. As they entered the tunnel, the air became noticeably cooler and they could feel a slight downward slope to the tunnel's path. "Can you see our lights yet?" Evans asked. "No, but you'll understand why in a few minutes. Just keep advancing per my instructions." Emily was comforted by the fact that Neruda's voice was getting louder. He seemed relaxed and in no imminent danger. She could feel his own optimism rise with every footstep. "I'm trying to trace your steps," Evans yelled. "That's fine, but try and avoid my last one," Neruda laughed, "it's a real dilly." "This is the last time I'll ever travel without local communicators," Evans said under his breath. "This whole trip was planned too quickly. We should've waited," Emily lamented. Evans cast the beam of his flashlight down the narrow tunnel hoping to see some evidence of Neruda, but the beam blended into darkness before anything distinct could be identified. Evans turned around to face Collin and Emily. "If this tunnel stays at this rate of slope, it goes down deep. It's going to get cold." "Can you see our lights yet?" "No. But turn off your flashlights for a moment," Neruda suggested. "I'll turn mine on and see if you can see anything." Instant blackness engulfed them as their flashlights were turned off. "There, I think I saw something about fifteen meters ahead. Yes, I definitely saw a light." Evans flicked his light back on. The walls of the tunnel were only about three meters across and tools had shaped them. Not much precision, but definitely a designed structure. "Okay, Jamisson, we saw your light. We'll be there as fast as we can. Your voice sounds like it's below us. You said you fell. How far, do you know?" "I'm not sure. I lost consciousness for some period of time - maybe ten minutes or so. I still have a helleva headache to confirm my fall." "Okay, just take it easy and we'll get there shortly." Evans turned to Emily and Collin. "Let's stay very tightly packed. I'll keep my flashlight trained on the path ahead of us. Collin, position your beam on the right side of the tunnel, and Emily, you watch the left. Stay alert. If you see anything that looks unusual, say so immediately and freeze your position. Understood?" Though he had a tendency to be obnoxious, both Collin and Emily were glad that Evans was leading them. He instilled confidence through his every mannerism and movement. He seemed to extract exhilaration from such circumstances where others could only find fear. As they inched their way down the corridor, Collin's voice broke the silence. "Stop!" They froze in their positions. "What is it?" Evans asked. "It's the glyph that Neruda mentioned earlier." All of the flashlight beams converged on a hieroglyph intricately carved upon the rock wall of the tunnel. The wall had been carefully prepped and was relatively smooth in order to accommodate the detailed lines and pattern of the glyph. "What did you make of the glyph on the wall?" Evans called out to Neruda. "I've never seen anything quite like it before," he replied. His voice was unmistakably closer, but also coming from some distance below their position. "It's related to the glyphs on the artifact, but it's different in many respects. Keep an eye out for my final step, it wasn't much further that I tripped something." Evans' flashlight identified Neruda's final footprint about two minutes later. A skid mark veered off to the right of the tunnel, but there was no sign of a door or exit path. "Let's position all of our light on this area." Evans used his flashlight beam like a laser pointer to define the area he wanted them to collectively illuminate. "Okay, do you see anything that looks like a seam?" "Nothing so far," Collin replied. Emily pointed to the top of the tunnel where her flashlight was positioned. "What's that?" "It looks like a ventilation duct or small opening of some kind," Evans said. "Maybe that's how we can hear Neruda." "Jamisson, say something," Evans suggested. "Something." "A little more of your usual verbosity would be helpful," Emily said playfully. "Okay, but I'm warning you, my life story is pretty boring until I hit the age of five or six -" "You're right, it's the source of his voice," Collin said excitedly. "Jamisson, this is Evans, we found a ventilation duct or something in the ceiling of the tunnel. It's a small hole, maybe ten centimeters in diameter. We also found your last footprint, but there's no sign as to where you fell. We can't see any seams or edges indicating a door or exit path. Any recommendations?" "Do you have any rope?" "Yes, about ten meters in length I suppose." "Can you fit the rope through the opening?" "Yeah, I think so," Evans said. "Try feeding the rope through the opening, as much as you can. With a little luck, I'll see it." "What kind of a room are you in?" Emily asked. "It has tall ceilings - maybe ten or twelve meters, it's about three meters in diameter and the ceiling is arched like a dome. It's definitely a construction... an elaborate construction. But I can't see any openings, and like you, I can't find any seams. I don't exactly know how I even got in here." Evans was on his tiptoes trying to get the rope through the opening. He looked a little like a giant, awkward ballerina. The opening in the ceiling was about half a meter beyond his reach, and the rope was too limp to thread the opening without Evans jumping. "This may be stupid to jump around here, but it's the only way I'm going to be able to feed this rope through. You two stand back. If I go down, Collin goes back for help. Emily, you stand watch. Here's my base communicator." He handed it to Collin. "I could boost you into position," Collin said. "I doubt it. I weigh too much for you. And we can't afford to lose two of us." Emily agreed. Collin resembled a walking stick. "Why don't you boost Collin up," Emily suggested. "He'd be like a feather to you." "I'm not willing to risk two of us, if it can be done with one. Let me try it first myself. If I fail and nothing happens, I'll boost Collins. Get back at least five meters." Evans waited for them to retrace their steps backwards. He jumped perfectly to the hole like a basketball player dunking the ball. The rope sailed in cleanly. And then fell out. Evans came down hard, but safe. Ten minutes later they had found an appropriately sized rock to tie to the end of the rope, and Evans once again dunked the rope into the hole. This time it stayed. "Do you see anything?" Evans shouted as he began feeding the rope through the opening. "Yes, but you'll need a lot more rope to reach me." "Any chance you could climb the wall and grab it?" "None." "If I could get you a rope, would you be able to make it to the top of the chamber?" "I think so, but it's not clear to me what we'd do next. Last time I checked, I couldn't fit through a ten centimeter hole." "We can widen the hole," Evans replied, a little irritated. "But can you make it to the top of the chamber?" "Yeah, there's something of a ledge that circles the top of the walls before they become the dome ceiling. It could be useful." Evans turned around to face Emily and Collin. "I need you to go back to the entrance. Contact Jenkins and inform him of our situation. I'll get Jamisson out and we'll meet you back at the entrance in two hours. If we're not there in two hours, have Jenkins send a security detail with search and rescue equipment immediately." "How are you going to get Neruda out by yourself?" Collin asked in a mystified voice. "Before we do anything," Emily said, "can I suggest we try to replicate Jamisson's last footstep and see if we might be able to trigger the passage to open without falling into the chamber ourselves?" "It's too dangerous," Evans interjected. "It seems to me if it's pressure sensitive, we should be able to touch the same spot and the doorway should open. Maybe we could keep it open." "I agree, it's worth a try," Collin said. "I don't see how you'd have any chance of getting him out otherwise." "Neruda, are you listening to this?" Evans asked. "Yes." "Opinions?" "Yeah, Emily and Collin should do as you suggested. The sooner the better." Evans whispered. "Please, go now. And be careful to retrace our steps exactly as we came in. We'll be out within two hours. Go." His arm waved them on like a sea swell. Emily and Collin walked away stunned. They could see no reason for Evans' confident posture. It was even more baffling that Neruda would agree with him. Something strange was going on. But they dutifully fulfilled their part of the plan and rejoined Andrews and Samantha at the entrance. They made good time, requiring only 17 minutes. The light hit their eyes hard as they stumbled from the narrow opening into the waiting arms of Andrews and Samantha who helped them ease through the crack. "What the fuck took you so long?" Andrews asked. "We found Neruda. He's okay," Emily began. "But he's trapped in some sort of a chamber, and we can't get him out without supplies. Evans stayed behind. They're going to try and get out on their own, but if they're not out in another... hour and a half, we're supposed to have Jenkins send a security team." "We need to alert Jenkins now," Collin reminded her. Collin pulled out the base communicator that Evans had given him and fired the RECORD button. He spoke into the microphone haltingly. "Subject found. Search and rescue likely. Update in ninety minutes. Please prepare for immediate dispatch of S&R in ninety minutes. Will send exact coordinates in next communiqué. Please confirm." Collin played back the recording and then hit the SEND button satisfied with his message's accuracy and brevity. Everyone knew that Jenkins and Evans hated long, detailed messages. It was a little past ten in the morning, and the warmth of the desert sun was beginning to make itself known. Andrews had set-up a makeshift campsite, and they all settled in to wait out the next 90 minutes. Emily busied herself in the task of making coffee on the solar heating pad. Collin looked over the maps to get the exact coordinates for the search and rescue mission. "It's the homebase isn't it?" Samantha asked Emily. "Neruda seems to think so." "Did you see anything... anything unusual?" "The tunnels are artificial. There's a glyph on the wall of the tunnel similar to the glyphs on the artifact. Somehow Neruda ended up in the equivalent of a jail cell, but we couldn't find any exit path or door in the tunnel. It was as if he was literally dematerialized and placed in holding -" "For what?" "We don't know." "They're protecting something," Samantha said. "What're they protecting?" Andrews asked as he approached Samantha. "I mean, if it's more artifacts like our little monster here, what's to protect?" "A genetic technology," she said both as a statement and question. "How do you know this?" Emily asked. "I had another experience with the artifact during an RV session just before Evans discovered the opening in the wall. I saw images -" "Like?" "Like an image of what these ETs look like." "Woah..." Andrews started. "How do you know you can believe the image this thing put in your head?" He was pointing to the aluminum case that held the artifact. "These same ETs built the equivalent of a Goddamn mousetrap, which now holds Neruda prisoner. Doesn't exactly engender trust in my little ol' heart." Samantha started to say something and then stopped. "Jesus, Andrews," Emily said, "Can we let her tell us what she saw without interruptions and your bloody opinions?" Andrews kicked the loose rocks beneath him and watched them scatter. His lips danced silently with words that no one could hear. "All I'm saying," Samantha said slowly, "is that the images I saw were of something altogether different... more advanced... maybe human, maybe something else. It varied from a human-like presence to a geometric shape like... like a rectangle." Samantha stopped for a moment as if she was trying to remember something. Collin looked up from his maps and listened intently. Samantha began again, "I can't pretend that I know what or who they are, but this image is as clear to me as you are, and it's not the image of a truant or warring species. My sense is that they're benevolent - even helpful to our species. They've stored something here that was supposed to be discovered by us, and it has something to do with genetics. It's all part of a masterful plan." "That of course includes Neruda being fucked over." Andrews mumbled. "I don't know about Neruda," Samantha explained, "but I'm sure of what I've told you. They probably designed a variety of protective mechanisms to ensure that we discover this site instead of someone else. There's something here that they want us to have." "So you think there's something inside this mountain... a gift from these unknown ETs, with our name on it?" Andrews couldn't contain himself. He was one of the few within the ACIO that didn't have a healthy respect for RVs and the job they did, or anything else that went bump-in-the-night. To Andrews, RVs were simply glorified psychics. "Yes." Samantha answered quietly. "Collin, did you get any message back from base yet?" Emily asked. "Yeah, we're confirmed," he glanced at his watch, "sixty-eight minutes and counting." "So what are they?" Andrews asked. "Friendly ETs who came to earth twelve hundred years ago, played around with the Indians, and then stored something inside a mountain for us to find? I buy that." "These are just feelings you have, aren't they, Samantha?" Collin asked quietly, trying to mitigate Andrews' sarcasm. "You don't actually have anything on RePlay, do you?" Samantha shifted her position on a large rock, and brushed back her hair with both of her hands. "No. When I went back to RePlay the images weren't recorded. Somehow they bypassed the capture sensitivity of RePlay. They're probably based on the imagery projected by the artifact, and I wasn't even in RV mode. But these images are powerful. I mean real powerful. I can't overstate that." "Okay, I'm still confused," Andrews said. "You saw an image of a geometric shape - I believe you said rectangle - and from that you feel that there's something buried inside this mountain, perhaps a form of genetic technology. Is that about it?" "I saw several images. The other image was of the earth floating in space and there was a grid surrounding it like filaments of light, and at certain cross-sections, I could see a pulsing glow -" "How many?" Emily asked. "Maybe three, no, maybe five. I'm not sure." "Did you notice where they were located?" Collins asked. "The only one I paid attention to looked like it was here... New Mexico." She squinted her eyes and then closed them completely for a few moments. "I had an overwhelming impression that the technology was stored in this very place," she added. "It was left here by this race for a very specific reason, but I'm not sure what it is..." Her voice trailed off into silence. Everyone had been listening so intently to her voice that they hadn't noticed Neruda's muffled pleadings, just inside the canyon wall, for coffee. "My God, you made it!" Emily cried as she saw Neruda break through the crevice opening into the light. The angle of the sun had cleared the wall and was now shining - in all its glory - directly on Neruda. Blinded by the sudden light, he squatted to the ground and shielded his eyes. "The warmth feels great, but I wish someone could dim the damn lights." Neruda's eyes were thin slits looking for a familiar face. He found Emily first. "I don't suppose you have any coffee made? I have a splitting headache." Emily laughed with a mixture of relief, joy, and ample surprise. |
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11/05/02