Within the Dead Space

by Hutchens, Gary

  Chapter 31

  When Chaco finished his speech the room remained silent for a few seconds as people grasped what he had said.

  “Did he just say there is several hundred millions of dollars in gold and silver buried near San Diego?”

  Dr. Branston stepped up to the podium and said, “Because it is getting late, there will only be time for a couple of questions.” He pointed to someone in the front row.

  “Are you sure that there really is gold and silver buried near San Diego and what proof do you have?”

  Chaco responded, “I don’t have any proof but what I have said is factual. The ship, Santa Cortina, sank off the coast of San Diego and the gold and silver is buried just as I have said.”

  “Do you know exactly where it is?” someone spoke up from the hall without being called on.

  Chaco hesitated for a moment, realizing where this questioning was going, and then responded carefully, “I have never been to America before and I have never been to San Diego. I have no idea where the gold and silver is except for what I have already told you.”

  “Where did you learn about Pusca and the treasure?”

  “I do not know. I am a descendant of the Inca and I don’t remember my parents or where I lived when I was younger but I do know that what I am saying is true.”

  Dr. Branston interceded at this point and said, “No more questions tonight. Chaco will be on campus for several weeks and we will have plenty of time to question him.”

  The people in the hall gave Chaco a resounding applause even though many questioned whether what he had said tonight could be true.

  The next morning the San Diego Tribune’s front page story read in large print, GOLD AND SILVER IN THEM THAR HILLS. In smaller print it said: Young Inca descendant claims that a Spanish galleon sank off the coast of San Diego in the 1500’s and a treasure of half a billion dollars in gold and silver has been buried in a cave on the coast. The exact details of where the ship went down aren’t clear yet, but the search is on….

  By midafternoon, throngs of people could be seen searching the hills near San Diego for the treasure. The gold rush was on. Many of the major newspapers picked up the story and ran with it in their afternoon edition.

  Dr. Branston’s phone rang constantly the next morning. Everyone wanted an interview and verification of whether there was any substance to the claims.

  Chaco was awakened early that morning by someone knocking on his door.

  “It’s Professor Manuel. I need to talk to you.”

  Chaco let the professor in.

  “You’ve really created a mess young man. The press wants to know exactly where the Santa Cortina went down and where the gold is. I’ll try to restrict their access to you, but I would say by this afternoon you’ll have to give an interview. If you can’t somehow prove your claims then you’ll have to change your story. Don’t leave your room until I come back to get you around noon. Order breakfast sent up to your room.” With that the professor left.

  Chaco sat on the edge of the bed. He had told the truth and that was all there was to it. He knew where the ship went down and could find the cave if he had to, but he would never tell anyone. That wasn’t going to happen.

  Chapter 32

  There were several news agencies waiting for Chaco and Professor Manuel when they walked into the archaeological building. They had been waiting a couple of hours.

  Professor Manuel had tried to get Chaco to change his story about the Santa Cortina. He wanted him to say that he really wasn’t sure what the cargo contained.

  Chaco was already having second thoughts about what he had told the audience. He actually had no control last night because he assumed Pusca’s identity and the story came from him. Chaco was considering following Professor Manuel’s advice when they walked into the building.

  “How did you know about the gold?”

  “What is your last name?”

  “Did you make up the whole story last night?”

  “What is dead space?”

  The news media was throwing rapid fire questions at him. Chaco was speechless and felt helpless. Dr. Branston entered the lobby of the building and rescued him.

  “Gentlemen, please give the young man a chance to think.”

  He guided Chaco to an office across the room. Dr. Branston turned back to the crowd and said, “Please be patient. In fifteen minutes Chaco will answer your questions. We are currently setting up a room for a press conference.”

  He rushed Chaco into the room with Professor Manuel and shut the door. He pointed to a couple of chairs for them to take.

  “Chaco,” Dr. Branston began, “I am somewhat responsible for the problems today. You told me straight up that you didn’t know why you knew what you did and that you believed it to be true. I hate to ask this of you, but can you think of any way you might be able to verify some of the information?”

  Chaco shook his head. “I can’t think of any way to prove it. I think I was born with this knowledge and I understand that most people will not accept my explanation. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should change my story and say that I’m not sure what the cargo was, as Professor Manuel has advised me.”

  “That might be a good idea. Maybe that will take away some of the media hype and the story will just disappear.”

  They talked for a few more minutes until they were informed that the conference room was ready.

  The cameras were rolling as they walked into the room. There were even a couple of foreign correspondents. Chaco’s story was becoming bigger by the minute.

  Dr. Branston took the podium first and gave a brief synopsis of his original contact with Chaco and his great interest in Chaco’s knowledge. He discussed his ability with languages and that Chaco could talk in the secret ancient language of the Inca which he, Dr. Branston, had never heard before. “It is possible that his information isn’t totally accurate because it can’t be verified, but I have complete confidence in his desire to tell the truth to the best of his ability.”

  Dr. Branston had given Chaco his chance to change his story if he wanted. “Here is Chaco to address your questions. He will give a short introduction before taking questions.”

  Chaco was much more nervous now than he was the night before. The additional cameras and bright lights added a surreal intensity to the event. He felt himself shaking as he gripped the edge of the podium. They could see he was nervous and scared.

  In a wavering voice he began, “I’m sorry for having caused such uproar over my speech last night. I think I need to correct and clarify some of the information that I said.”

  “I told you so. He’s running for cover,” someone said from the back of the room.

  Chaco continued, “After thinking hard about the Santa Cortina, I now believe that I’m not so sure what the cargo might have been. Maybe it wasn’t gold and silver after all.”

  The news people came alive instantly with questions and accusations flying at Chaco.

  Dr. Branston stepped to the podium, “We need order here. Chaco will not continue until this room is completely quiet.” A few seconds later the media calmed down and became quiet again. Dr. Branston stepped aside and Chaco retook the podium. The vultures were waiting to tear Chaco to shreds.

  Chaco continued, “I can’t prove…,” his voice faded away, and in a split instant a transformation happened right in front of the news media.

  “Who are you people to question Pusca? I was there and you weren’t.” Chaco’s voice had become Pusca’s again.

  “Is this a joke?” one of the newsmen called out.

  Pusca turned toward the man, “You stop with your foul ways. Everything that has been said is true. Check with the Spanish government and you will see that the Santa Cortina was lost out of Acapulco in the 1500’s and the cargo manifest had been changed from its original cargo of gold and silver. With some examination of the manifest it should be easy to verify what I am saying. As to the Santa Cortina, I know exactly where she
went down…bring a map.”

  Hurriedly a large map was brought into the room. Chaco pointed to an exact point near San Diego. “You will find the remains about a thousand feet offshore. Even after all these years some of it must remain. Also several of the original crew took pieces of gold from the trunks on shore. After they were all dead, I gathered all I could find and returned them to the trunks but I am sure there are still several gold pieces in the area. Find those and the truth will be told.”

  Just as quickly, Chaco’s voice came back. “I guess Pusca has spoken.”

  Everybody spoke up at the same time with questions.

  Dr. Branston and Professor Manuel were in shock. Any damage control had just been destroyed.

  “He’ll answer questions now,” said the professor and pointed to a CBS correspondent.

  “Chaco, what just happened here? Are you a multiple personality?”

  “No, I am Chaco. I just have the ability to represent various historical Inca individuals that I know so much about.”

  “Where does all of this information come from?”

  “I think I was born with it.”

  One of the science students got to ask the next question. “What is dead space?”

  “It is a word I use to describe a natural phenomenon where light and air interact so that the light is bent across a small spectrum of space, making it invisible.

  The same student continued with another question. “Have you ever seen dead space and where?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  Dr. Branston interrupted, “I would think other questions are more important at this time.” He was talked down by the crowd. They wanted to know about dead space.

  “Well, I’m getting tired of talking,” Chaco was regaining his confidence. “There is a dead space in the sitting room down the hall. I noticed it the other day. It takes a trained eye to see it.”

  “Show us,” shouted the newsmen in unison.

  Chaco thought for a minute. “Tell you what I will do. I will show you the room and then ask that I be left alone. I will climb into the space and can never be found until I come out. I am not ready to show the world this. Follow me.”

  Chaco showed them the room. There were no windows, two couches and a couple of tables. The news media filed through examining every square inch of the room.

  “It’s like a game show or a magic show,” cried out one of the newsmen.

  “This is crazy,” another said.

  “Now leave the room for five minutes,” said Chaco. Many reexamined the room again before leaving.

  “Chaco, are you sure you want to do this?” Dr. Branston asked. “Any credibility you might have had will be gone.”

  “You don’t believe it either, but that’s okay, I wouldn’t believe it if I was you.”

  They all left the room. In seconds Chaco found the shadow seam of the dead space and squeezed himself in.

  Minutes later when they reentered the room Chaco was gone. They all went nuts. They tapped on the walls and stamped on the floor. They turned the couches and tables upside down. They hollered out Chaco’s name. They searched and then searched again. A couple of the students examined the room inch by inch on their knees looking for anything out of the ordinary and found nothing. Eventually, everybody finally gave up and left the room.

  As the door shut Chaco slipped from the space, walked to the door and opened it. “You sure gave up awfully easy,” and smiled at them.

  The news people couldn’t believe their eyes and rushed back into the room. They were sure it had to be a trick. Chaco refused to answer any more questions and hurried from the building.

  Chapter 33

  Every major newspaper in the U.S ran a front page story about Chaco and the gold near San Diego. A gigantic gold rush was in the making. People’s private property was being trampled on. Inquiries were sent to the Spanish government for information on the Santa Cortina and its cargo. Several salvage ships were seen off the San Diego coast with all the latest equipment for locating sunken ships. A couple ships already had divers in the water.

  Chaco ran from the archaeology building with several news people in hot pursuit. He ran through the streets and alleys and in a short time had disappeared. He did a wide arc and eventually ended back at his hotel. He was hoping that they didn’t know where he was staying. Carefully, he entered the lobby of the hotel. All was clear and he breathed a sigh of relief. Chaco hurried to his room, slipped the key card into the security pad on the door and entered. A second later two men grabbed him and wrestled him to the floor. They tied his arms behind his back.

  Chaco looked up from the floor and saw Dr. Ortiz staring at him with his gold tooth prominently displayed.

  “Well, my young friend, it looks like I get the last laugh.” With a turn of his head he signaled Sanchez who kicked Chaco in the side. “I think we will need a separate set of rules for our next go-round.”

  Chaco screamed out, “Helllllp!” and at the same time twisted his body to deflect the blow that was inflicted.

  “Gag him,” ordered Ortiz. “We’ll take him somewhere that we can have a civilized talk.”

  Chaco struggled to get loose but offered little resistance. Ortiz led the way down the stairs with Sanchez and Jorge carrying Chaco. No one was in the lobby when they entered and they quickly stowed Chaco in a nearby bathroom while Sanchez ran to get the car. When the car arrived Ortiz went to the front desk and asked the clerk to show him one of the rooms. As soon as Ortiz and the hotel clerk went down the hall, Sanchez and Jorge carried Chaco to the car and threw him in the trunk.

  “See how you like that you little punk,” and Sanchez slammed the trunk closed.

  Unbeknownst to them, a news crew had just pulled into the parking lot nearby.

  “Did you see that?” he asked the cameraman. “I think they threw a body into the trunk of that car.”

  “Yeah, I saw it. Hold on. We’ll follow them.”

  They waited for the car to pull away from the hotel entrance and then pulled in behind them and wrote the license plate number down.

  “Get on the phone with the station. Ask Hank what he wants us to do?”

  He pushed speed dial on his cell phone and had Hank on the line immediately. He told him what they had seen and gave him the license number.

  “Hold on,” said Hank,” I’ll check with my contact at the station.” Two minutes later he was back on the line. “Are you still following them?”

  “We’re right behind them. There’s a lot of traffic and I don’t think they know we are here.”

  “You’re following a Peruvian Embassy car. Are you absolutely sure that you saw them throw somebody in the trunk?”

  “We both saw it and if we had to guess, we would say it is that Chaco kid they’ve got.”

  “Hold on a minute longer,” said Hank, “I’ll have an address shortly. Got it, their embassy is in downtown Boston.” He gave them the address. “I’m sending another news crew to the embassy as well. You guys keep following them and keep me advised. Great job and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Hank immediately called CBS in New York. The wheels were turning…..and even if it isn’t Chaco in the trunk, this could turn out to be one great story.

  Chapter 34

  “Hank, they’re driving through the embassy gates now.” The other crew had arrived as well and was taping the car entering.

  “Get in there if you can and keep your cameras running. I want to know what’s going on.”

  The embassy refused to let them enter.

  “We can’t get in, Hank. What now?”

  “Are you sure that you saw a body go into that trunk?”

  “We saw it Hank, both of us, and it’s got to be Chaco. Who else could it be?”

  Hank called the Peruvian Embassy and demanded to speak with the ambassador.

  A minute later the ambassador was on the line. “Yes, this is the Ambassador Cordova, what is so urgent?”

  “Ambassador Cordova, this is Hank
Goldman with CBS news. We have a news crew who has filmed a body being thrown into the trunk of one of your embassy cars and the car has just arrived at the embassy. We believe it to be Chaco. Can you tell us what’s going on?”

  “I know nothing about this. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Mr. Ambassador, if we haven’t heard from you in five minutes we’ll have to report this to the police.”

  The phone went dead.

  Hank called the Boston sheriff and told him what he thought was going on. His experience had shown him that ambassadors don’t respond to anything unless they are pushed. With sirens blaring the nearest police cars headed for the embassy. CBS had the cameras running.

  The police arrived in minutes. Hank did not receive a phone call from the ambassador.

  The police were stopped at the embassy gates and refused admittance. An international crisis was in the making.

  The ambassador screamed at Ortiz, “What in the hell are you doing with that kid? They’ve got you on film throwing him in the trunk. Are you crazy?”

  “Damn,” Ortiz said, “I thought no one saw us. Let me think for a second.”

  Within the hour the Peruvian Embassy was surrounded by police cars. The mayor of Boston was demanding that Chaco be released.

  “Get Professor Manuel on the line,” Ortiz yelled at the secretary.

  “He’s holding, sir,” said the secretary a minute later.

  “Hello Professor, this is Dr. Ortiz, and we have a problem over here.”

  “What do you mean we? It’s all over the television. Do you have Chaco and what have you done with him?”

  “Lower your tone with me Professor Manuel. If I remember right, your school received a hundred thousand dollars from the Peruvian government last year. Now shall we talk in a more reasonable tone?”

  The phone was silent for a few moments. “Uh…yes, Dr. Ortiz, tell me what you are thinking.”