“No idea. I was asked to check up on the lab results while I was here, since Natani would likely be difficult to contact today, but I haven’t been out to the reservation yet. I’m not sure what the clothing pertains to, exactly.”
The detective nodded again, then exhaled, meeting my gaze directly.
“I think you’d better come with me, Mrs. Black.”
I frowned. “Come with you? Aren’t we going to wait for Agent Lee?”
Rodriguez exhaled. “I know Natani would prefer that,” he muttered. “But I think you should come with me now. The Feds tend to be a lot more touchy about showing outsiders their toys, and I’d really like you to see this.”
Puzzled, I only hesitated an instant, then nodded.
“Okay. Where are we going?”
“To the lab,” he said. “It’s better if the tech guys explain it to you personally.”
11
ROCK WITH WINGS
BLACK? BLACK… I need you to contact me right away, if you can.
His body stiffened, hardening to rock.
His arm did too, and his hand where he gripped the dashboard of the Jeep he was riding in. Fighting back the wave of pain that swam over his light, he tried to keep it from her when he couldn’t kill it entirely. In the end, he threw a fair bit of his light behind a shield.
Black? He could almost see her lips purse. Can you hear me?
Yes. He fought his expression still, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. I’m here. Is everything okay? Do you need one of us to call you?
Right away, she sent. I’m fine. But I’ve just come back from the labs here in Santa Fe. I didn’t learn much from the F.B.I. agent, Lee… but I had a long chat with Detective Ramirez of the Santa Fe PD before Lee got there. There are things you should know, as soon as possible. Do you have access to a phone where you are? Or do you want me to tell you like this?
He felt the shield up around her light too, and his tongue thickened.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
A part of him wanted to shake her.
Another part of him wanted to demand that she come out here, that she meet him either out here at Ship Rock, at the resort, or back at Manny’s place.
I’ll be there tomorrow, she told him.
Feeling his face grow hot when he realized she’d heard him, he bit his tongue, doing his best to shake off the emotions that wanted to rise.
It hit him again that the energy was weird out here.
It was really weird, and getting weirder, the further they drove.
You’re at Ship Rock? she sent.
He shook his head.
On our way, he sent. We had to make a detour. We picked up a trail on Wolf.
You did? You felt him?
Possibly. He hesitated, then amended, Yes. I felt him. Part of our team split off and is following up on that now. Red’s people.
He felt her acknowledge his words.
Briefly, he felt her want to talk to him about something else, something about where he was going. Something about Ship Rock, something that was bothering her, maybe something she’d felt, or seen. She wanted to ask him something, or maybe tell him something.
It almost felt like she wanted to warn him––
Stop trying to read me, she sent, her mental voice harder. Can you just call me, Black? Or have Manny or Red call me?
Just tell me what’s wrong, doc, he sent. What did the lab rats tell you?
He felt her flinch at the nickname, even as another wave of frustration left her.
The conflict in that hit at his heart, even more than the pain.
Miri–– he began, softer.
She cut him off.
They can’t identify the fabric, Black, she sent, her thoughts stripped, colder. Do you hear me? The lab techs in Santa Fe… they can’t identify it.
His jaw hardened.
When he didn’t speak, she went on, her thoughts a touch louder.
They told me it’s not made of any materials they’ve ever seen before. They were completely baffled, kept asking me who was wearing it, where they came from, where they’d been, how we’d stumbled across it. They wondered if it was some kind of artificial fabric, something made in a lab, but said it tested as being made from natural materials. They believed it was woven or spun from the fur of some kind of animal. Similar to wool, but not. They asked me if it was made of some kind of genetically-engineered animal.
Again, she fell silent.
Again, Black didn’t speak.
After another pause, she went on, her thoughts verging on frustrated.
Moreover, they said the material was relatively old. Old enough that one of them wanted to try dating it… I’m not sure how. I know carbon dating doesn’t work for the kinds of time increments they were talking about. I think the combination of it being old and from a totally foreign source really bothered them. They asked me a lot of questions, Black. Questions I couldn’t even begin to answer. And not even for the usual reasons this time.
She paused, then added,
They definitely thought I knew more than I was saying. Rodriguez did, too. He also thinks there’s something weird up with the Feds, that they’ve been dragging their feet on looking into this whole thing. He didn’t trust Lee, that agent Red sent me to talk to.
A heavier silence fell between them.
When Black continued to say nothing, he felt a ripple of anger pass through her light.
They were able to identify a good chunk of the material picked up by the fibers, she sent next, her thoughts still coming through in that stripped, clinical tone. Dust from the mesa, pollen, some other kinds of plant detritus, even some animal fur, which was either rabbit or hare. They found some blood from animals they could identify, too.
Her mind paused, as if to assess his, before it added,
They also found human blood. From more than one human. Some of that was strange, too. The newer stains were familiar to them. Type O-negative, Type B-positive, some AB-positive. There were a few older stains on the fabric, though. They think it’s human blood as well, but it wasn’t of a blood type they’d ever encountered before. They were running it against a number of animal species in the event they were getting a false positive for human.
Black felt that pit in his gut worsen.
Nodding, more to himself that time, he gazed out over the red rock of the desert, his jaw hardening. Feeling eyes on him, he glanced to his left in the open-top Jeep and found Red looking at him from the driver’s seat, his mouth pursed.
Did they try to explain any of it? he sent. Did they have any theories to explain their findings?
For which part? she sent caustically.
For any of it? Did they have an explanation for any of it?
Do you? she retorted.
Not really, no.
Bullshit, Black, her mind snapped. What the hell is going on? What aren’t you telling me? This time? she added, her voice colder.
Miri, I swear to the gods… I don’t know anything. I have some thoughts, yes… and some worries… but I think I should wait to share them until we know a bit more. We’re sending those kids to you tomorrow. They should be there by noon, maybe one o’clock. The Nation is letting us use their school bus for the day, so it shouldn’t cause too much of a stir, if––
But she cut him off.
Sending them to me? I thought I was coming out there? Manny said we’d all go up to Ship Rock again, depending on what you found––
I don’t think that’s a good idea, Miriam.
There was a silence.
Why not? she sent.
For some reason, he felt less anger on her that time.
Once again, he felt her wanting to ask him something. Or tell him something.
What’s at Ship Rock, Black? she sent.
He exhaled in a sigh.
I don’t know, Miri. I swear to the gods, I don’t.
But you think something. What do you think is there?
He clicked under hi
s breath, shaking his head.
Can I come there? he sent, on impulse. Can I come to you, ride with the kids? We could talk there, Miri, in Santa Fe. We could talk for real. I’ll take you out to dinner.
There was a silence. Then he practically heard her snort.
At your own restaurant?
There. Anywhere. Whatever you want. He paused, feeling her think about it. I’ll know what we found at Ship Rock by then. We can talk about it. We can talk about whatever you want.
The silence deepened.
He felt that conflict on her again, her weighing back and forth.
Then he felt a flush of anger off her, a harder decision.
No, she sent, her thoughts reflecting that anger. No, Black.
Before he could come up with an answer…
She vanished from his light.
HE COULD SEE Ship Rock in the distance by around two o’clock.
Black felt increasingly strange, the closer they got.
He was able to compensate for the shifting light and Barrier space well enough to remain anchored in his body––mostly. He did that primarily by partitioning his light, a trick infiltrators learned relatively early on in their sight training back on Old Earth.
By the time they reached the plain southwest of the Rock, Black had his light body broken up into three main partitions.
The smallest part rode high above him to monitor the Barrier vortex––or Barrier black hole, or whatever the hell that thing was he could feel over the desert. He did that partly to keep an eye on the phenomenon in case it changed, and partly so he’d still have access to his sight skills from that higher level, despite the interference.
He used another part of his light to keep an eye on the Barrier and physical space closer to Earth, including the aleimic light of his human companions, as well as every living thing he could sense and every blank spot he could feel in the surrounding desert. That part of his light in particular looked for any sign of someone or something watching them as they approached the famous jagged outline of the Winged Rock.
He used a third segment of his light to anchor his aleimic body and his mind, using the Earth itself, coupled with structures in his light he’d cultivated specifically for that purpose.
It was a skill he’d used even back when he first learned combat sight skills, back on Old Earth, mostly to compensate for being injured or in direct threat of his life––both of which tended to cause a lot of seers to jump out of their bodies instinctively.
Mind-partitions of that kind were normal for military-trained seers back on Old Earth. They were Infiltration 101, like learning how to shield one’s light, how to block attacks in the Barrier, how to hit out at someone else, or how to watch someone without being seen.
He pushed the thought from his mind, frowning.
He hadn’t thought about Old Earth in a long time.
He hadn’t thought about Old Earth in a long time on purpose.
Thinking about Miri, about her answer when he’d offered to go up and see her, he winced, fighting a stab of pain that briefly blurred his vision, turning it into a red wash of dust, light and glaring sunlight.
“You okay?”
Black opened his eyes, realizing only then he’d closed them.
He turned in his seat to find Manny had sat up in the Jeep’s back seat, so that he hung between his and Red’s seats. His long gray hair was wound into a braid, but wisps of gray and black hair whipped in the wind as they drove.
“I’m good,” Black said, speaking loud over the wind, as Manny had done.
The old man chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.
Black could feel Manny didn’t believe him.
Manny also thought it had something to do with Miri.
Shoving the thought from his mind, along with his memory of the emotions he’d felt off Miri, fragments of which still seethed through his light, he gritted his teeth. He considered telling Manny and Red about the lab results, then decided he didn’t want to admit he’d talked to Miri, given what he’d just felt off his friend.
He closed his eyes briefly against the dust in his lungs and mouth, grabbing a lukewarm water bottle off the floor of the Jeep by his feet and taking a long drink. He offered it to Manny, who took it off him, taking an equally long drink.
“There’s something off here,” Black said, still speaking loud over the Jeep and wind. “Can you feel it?”
“Feel it?” Manny looked at him, puzzled, handing the water bottle to Red, who took it, tilting his head back without taking his eyes off the dirt track where they were driving. “How would I feel it?”
Black shrugged. “It’s pretty fucking strong. Do you feel kind of dizzy? Light-headed?”
There was a silence while Manny frowned, his gaze shifting inward.
After a few seconds, he nodded slowly.
“I do feel a bit strange,” he said. “I confess, I thought it was from the whisky last night.”
Black turned, looking at Red. “What about you?”
Red didn’t take his eyes off the rock formation, but he nodded more readily than Manny had.
“I feel it,” he said. He looked at Black. “You’re right. It’s strong.”
Black assessed him with his eyes and light. “You feel things like this often?”
Red made a noncommittal tilt of his head. “Not like this. But yes.”
His fingers aimed out, pointing towards Ship Rock and the surrounding land.
“This land is protected. Shamans protect it. They have for many, many years.” He looked at Black, his mouth grim. “I always feel something out here. They say there’s a kind of energetic vortex, that it protects this land, keeps away evil spirits.”
Black frowned, glancing at Manny.
Manny looked unsurprised by this information.
Clearly he’d heard it before, too.
“It’s not usually like this, though,” Red added, still staring straight ahead. “I’ve never felt it like this. It’s almost like being drunk. Like there is a great wind in my spirit.”
Black nodded, if somewhat grudgingly.
The description was apt.
Moreover, he could feel through Red what he was feeling, where it came from.
“That’s right,” he said. “It is like a wind. Personally, I see it almost like a storm. Like a hurricane of light, with Ship Rock at its center.”
Red glanced at him, his dark eyes sharp.
After a pause where he seemed to be reevaluating Black, he nodded, also grudgingly.
“What does it mean?” he said.
Black frowned. Taking the water bottle back from the other man’s fingers, he gulped down a few more swallows before replacing the cap and propping it between his calf and the Jeep’s door.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But whatever it is, I don’t think your shamans did it.”
Grunting, Red returned his eyes to the dirt track in front of them, steering with both hands over the wind and mud-rutted land.
The rock formation was looming closer now.
A few minutes of driving later, and Black was struggling to stay in his body for real.
He shifted the amounts of his light and structure he was using for each thing, putting the bulk of it towards keeping him more or less in his body. Even so, when the Jeep finally skidded to a stop, he found himself fighting light-headedness, biting his tongue in an attempt to use pain to keep his focus.
“Hey.” He turned to Manny, then Red. “If I fall down, or lose consciousness, or just space out for a really long time… or start babbling a bunch of nonsense… throw me in the Jeep and drive me out of here.”
Manny frowned, exchanging glances with Red.
“Are you serious?” he said.
Black gave him a look.
“He’s serious,” Red said, his voice grim.
When Black turned, the other man was looking him over, that grimness reflected in his dark eyes. He seemed to be weighing Black again, physically as well as otherwise.
Black could almost feel him trying to decide whether he should drive Black out of there now, before he had to attempt to carry him with only Manny to help him.
Instead of answering either of them, Black scowled, yanking on the latch on the inside of the door, swinging it open and stepping out of the Wrangler and onto the packed earth.
Immediately, the dizziness worsened, pretty much as soon as his boots connected with the dusty red ground. Gripping the door’s window in one hand, white-knuckled, he compensated with his light, gritting his teeth as he leveled his vision.
“Gaos,” he muttered, glancing around.
He could barely see for all the light.
His Barrier vision slanted in and out of his physical vision, making it hard to focus on anything around him. It flipped from negative to positive, showing him the Barrier version of the landscape, then the physical version, then the Barrier one again.
He ended up stabilizing somewhere between the two, so that everything he saw was moving in some way, morphing and seething around him from the waves of light. It was like looking into a furnace, seeing thick waves of heat and light pluming off everything, distorting and tearing their shapes, making them bright and dulling all the edges.
He could only glimpse the ground and the jagged outline of Ship Rock itself.
He saw ripples around every shape he focused on, pulled up and down and to the sides by the thick waves of Barrier light.
The dusty yellow and red earth was washed out in red, gold and white, forcing him to blink every few seconds to clear his eyes. It was almost like being drunk, only a lot more disorienting. The closest thing he could find in his own memories was the one time he’d been stupid enough to try hallucinogens.
Lawless, Skip and Manny talked him into tripping with them in ‘Nam, then ended up leaving him in the tent when they couldn’t get him to speak for like three hours.
Still blinking, he stared up at the Rock, fighting to see where the vortex started, where it lived. After a few seconds, he realized it wasn’t coming from the rock formation itself, but from somewhere under it.
“What the fuck?” He had a dim awareness he was shouting. “How the fuck has no one noticed this? Where are the goddamned shamans?”
Black To Dust: A Quentin Black Paranormal Mystery (Quentin Black Mystery Book 7) Page 16
