by J. K. Scott
Mary leaned forward in her chair. “Was that the reason for the bad dream?”
“Well, indirectly. There’s more to the story.” I questioned if I should trust her. Plus, I didn’t know her clearance level.
Mary said, “That’s why I’m here. John trusted you. You are the only one who knows why this happened. This has become personal.”
Mary was right. I was already in trouble. After evaluating my options, I decided to tell her about the hiker. It was almost two o’clock in the morning when I finished.
Mary listened intently, and when I’d finished, she asked, “Are the images safe?”
“Yes and no. I need to make copies before I analyze them.”
Mary said, “Make the copies now. The images could be the answer to our dilemma.”
I regretted that I couldn’t share all the factors associated with the images. I ambled over to the lamp and retrieved the memory sticks. I used one to make two copies. Afterward, I wrapped one copy in foil and secured it in a tin box, saying, “I’ll store one copy in the garage.” I would store the other copy in a downstairs cabinet and retain the two copies from Trevor in my backpack. I chuckled. An hour ago, I’d mistrusted her, and now I was telling her my hiding places.
After inspecting the back porch area, I stepped outside into the hot desert breeze, which awakened my senses. The sweet aroma of creosote and desert shrub filled my nostrils, and the hot, moist air filled my lungs. In the distance, coyotes howled, but I couldn’t see any rogue coyote near the cabin. With the gentle breeze flapping my shirt, I gazed at the stars and wondered what the future held for Earth in these tumultuous times.
The covered garage had no door, which allowed critters to have free reign to come and go. I tucked the tin box behind an empty electrical box. Later, I’d secure the other copy in the stairwell closet. I would view one of the Trevor copies in the morning with a rested mind.
Walking back to the cabin, I stopped and gazed at the glowing lights from vehicles on the Beeline Highway miles away. The late-night drivers eluded the heat and traffic after their stays in Tonto National Forest, Payson, Mogollon Rim, or Interstate 40 towns. The desert revitalized me, but it couldn’t dissolve all my mental frustrations.
I returned as Mary finished the dishes, which were neatly stacked on the counter. She said, “You can put the dishes away. I plan on sleeping on your couch.”
I recommended to Mary, “We need to sleep downstairs for security reasons.”
Mary didn’t argue and agreed to sleep in the guest bedroom. We retired to the bedrooms. I had told her I’d use the bathroom after her. I wished I could have expressed more about her commitment to help John.
While Mary was in the bathroom, I stored the second copied memory stick. After I used the bathroom, I sprawled across the bed and deactivated the last light. Unable to sleep, I stared into the darkness, wondering if the shadow would appear.
I knew that any form in the room would be absorbed by the darkness unless a form or human body released a bioluminescence, or cold light. Why that thought occupied my mind, I didn’t know, other than I had studied splatters or chaos patterns of bioluminescence’s chemical reactions in animals. Unfortunately, sunlight’s electromagnetic radiation only provided a small portion of visible light because of humans’ biological limits.
Tired and restless, I thought about the invisible light created in our minds or in our dreams that might have no perceptive limits. I often wondered why we saw light in our dreams. This thought only solidified that invisible forces were far more extensive than we understood. My lids closed, and I finally drifted off to sleep.
I awakened in darkness without a sunlit window or glaring clock nearby. For a second, I couldn’t recall my whereabouts. Then I heard the toilet flush, which reminded me that Mary had slept in the guest room. I was relieved we had slept through the night uninterrupted.
8
WITH MARY IN the bathroom, I gathered my stuff to use the bathroom upstairs. After brewing coffee, I sat on the back porch, observing the McDowell Mountains. The morning desert air felt humid, which meant a summer monsoon storm was forthcoming. After moments of reflection, I decided to view the images from Trevor.
I logged on to my computer, and Ronzo’s message hit me like a ton of bricks. “Death-knell security breach” flashed from Ronzo’s secure server. Immediately, I logged off and went to my bag to access the burner phone. I realized I’d left the new burner phone in the rental jeep. Hesitantly, I sent Ronzo a coded email, indicating the breach must have been from a recent file I sent.
I felt tremendous guilt. I had drawn Ronzo deeper into this mess. I had made a serious mistake in sending the image file to their server. How could I have been so irresponsible by not using the special IP address on the mil-spec computer? I hoped Trevor and his electronics buddy had not programmed the file to set off an alarm or delete. Why else would Ronzo’s servers have been attacked? I picked up the two Trevor memory sticks from under the lamp, realizing I hadn’t marked the one I’d copied to Ronzo’s server. My negligence devastated me.
Ruminating on my options, I opened one of Trevor’s memory sticks to view the images, hoping they were there. I heard Mary climbing the staircase and told her, “Coffee is still hot.”
She joined me at the computer and asked, “Have you viewed the images?”
“Not yet. I have two serious problems. The only solution is to solve these images.”
“What’s the most serious problem?” Mary asked.
“They are equal and connected. Right now, I’m concerned the images have been erased, or I’ll see images flash on the screen and disappear. If that’s the case, a second set of eyes would be helpful. I need to warn you that viewing the images could be a serious breach, especially if Cascade interrogates you again.”
“What difference does it make? I’m in serious trouble already, and I don’t plan to return. I only want to help John.”
“Then we both are in deep trouble. And to make matters worse, I underestimated the hiker’s or the electronics store’s meddling with the data.”
Mary touched my shoulder. “Do you have a digital camera to take photos of the screen?”
“Nope, not even a smartphone; we have to use our memories.” I prepared to open the file and said, “Watch the screen closely. The images could be erased or deleted after viewing.”
Mary released a sigh. “I’m ready.”
I opened the file, and seven files appeared on the screen. In the left-hand corner, the timer ticked to twenty-two seconds. Ignoring Mary’s gasps, I clicked open the files and spread them like an accordion.
The first image showed a dull-metal-hued round object with crisscrossing patterns that appeared like a grid on a curved gray surface.
The second image displayed a zoomed-in view of the crisscrossing patterns on the surface; the lines appeared deep.
The third image showed a closer view of a round metal-colored object with contrasting light dots that appeared to be under the round object’s curved surface.
The fourth image showed a tilted floating doughnut shape with an inner circular hole.
The fifth image displayed a zoomed-in view of the doughnut’s inner hole, with contrasting shades and more detail.
The sixth image contained a microview of the doughnut’s inner hole, which blew my mind. The screen beeped two times with two seconds left.
The seventh and last image appeared to be an expanded view of the round sphere, with crisscrossing lines that appeared to have embedded crater-style holes inside them.
As I expected, the document erased itself. I’d missed the first image when I’d opened the file and saw the timer at the hotel, and obviously, making copies and sending them had activated a malware virus. I attempted to reload the images without success. Mary watched as I attempted to resuscitate the screen. I wondered if there could be other alarms that coul
d affect my computer. I marked the used memory stick, hoping that a technical guru could retrieve it. I considered that the glitches on the copy could have been originally on the courier’s SD camera card for security.
Mary moved to the couch, and I sank into my chair. I closed my eyes to review each image in my mind. Curiously, the two objects did not appear on the same frame, but I felt a relationship between them. I needed a graphic computer for enhanced modeling. Sadly, I thought about Cascade’s incomplete images and the problems they had caused.
With the images etched in my mind, I asked Mary, “What did you observe?”
“I saw thousands of dots; it looked like hundreds of raindrops had fallen on the screen. I saw two different porous blobs.”
“Did you have any impressions or emotional feelings?”
“Dak, seeing the timer made me anxious. When I was hired to be your security guard, John told me you were a genius and you had a photographic memory. He said you had the skillful ability to interpret splatter patterns, recreate fragments, and identify strange forms. I assumed you were born with this capability?”
“I’m not sure. At sixteen, I fell off a roof and had a serious head injury. The doctors induced a coma due to swelling and internal bleeding. A month later, the doctors brought me out of the coma. It took months before all my faculties returned. Later, when I attended college, my computer graphics professor noticed that I had a special ability to interpret unique patterns. He arranged special testing of my visual senses. It couldn’t be determined if the ability was innate or from my head injury. My test results garnered attention from an agency, which hired me.”
“No wonder Cascade is in a turmoil that you left. What did you see in all those dots and blobs?”
“I saw two separate forms or objects; the first form looked like a circular organic mass with a hole in the middle. The other form appeared to be an intricate round object more solid than the other.”
“Do you think a rogue planet is affecting our solar system, or could this be an extraterrestrial intrusion?” Mary asked.
“I can think of several possibilities. For example, the tenth planet in the Kuiper Belt is getting more support for being considered a member of our solar system. It’s been estimated to be ten times larger than Earth and believed to have a twenty-two-thousand-year orbit around our sun. There is a rogue planet theory and another that our sun is a binary star with planets. I’m not in contact with any cosmic races, but intuitively, I feel they are here. The stories are compelling but not evidential. I have viewed many classified images over the years that are troubling. The majority of our fellow humans prefer not to face this reality until it affects their lives.”
“I agree. There are many unsolved stories,” Mary said.
“What is your opinion of the most viable story about alien intelligence?”
“The Antarctica location—there are many reports on the anomalies under the frozen ice, which spreads across more than one hundred fifty miles and has a depth of more than twenty-seven hundred feet on the Wilkes Land. This information rose to prominence in 2016. And there have been visits from US presidents, secretaries of state, a renowned astronaut, and other scientists. International presidents, the pope, and other dignitaries have traveled to the Wilkes area. Why? Articles claim they have an interest due to climate change or a buried asteroid twice the size of the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. Further speculation maintains that it’s an ancient city or a past or present secret foreign base. Over the years, the news has run hot and cold. I agree the majority of inhabitants on Earth are not ready to deal with the reality of cosmic aliens, which would change their worldview.”
Mary seemed keen to know more. She asked, “What would be the cosmic alien interest in our planet?”
Suddenly, we both flinched as we heard the hum of a vehicle engine and the crunch of tires on the gravel in front of the cabin.
Immediately, I grabbed the memory sticks and stuffed them into my pocket, and lifted the computer bag from the top of the steps. I turned off the electrical grid, motioning for Mary to follow me. I pulled the Reaper from the drawer and whispered, “We’re going to hide.”
I went into the laundry room and opened a lower cabinet door that accessed the spiral staircase to the attic. I motioned for Mary to crawl in first; I grabbed a water jug, passed it to Mary, and shoved my bag inside. I closed the cabinet door and followed her up the steps.
In the oven-like attic, I opened a small window covered with a brown leather flap. The window overlooked the front of the cabin and had a view of the open garage. We heard loud knocking at the front and back doors. We could hear gravel crunching from heavy boots walking around the cabin.
The attic heat felt like a furnace. We took swigs of water as we tried to cool off and dampen our fear. Several minutes later, peeking around the window covering, I saw two uniformed police officers prowling around my rustic jeep in the garage. One officer lifted the hood and touched the engine, while the other retrieved a dead burner phone from the jeep and slipped it into his shirt pocket.
The two officers huddled in the garage as I strained to hear snippets of their conversation. One officer seemed to place sensors under the jeep’s front and back frame. They walked toward the cabin’s front door, and I wondered if they would try to break in. I hoped they would return to their vehicle. Mary stood so close I bumped into her as I backed away from the window. I heard a car door shut. We both moaned and sighed with relief.
We heard the sound of the engine and heard a vehicle leave.
I said, “Mary, they will be back soon with others.”
She agreed, and we climbed out of the attic, aware we had to leave the cabin.
Distraught, Mary asked, “What should we do? How are we going to help John?”
I understood Mary’s concern, and we didn’t have much time. I paced the floor, asking myself what Cascade wanted or needed other than me and how I could help John. Then it came to me.
I yelled to Mary, “I have it!”
Mary flinched from my outburst. “What is it?”
“I’m going to give you a memory stick to negotiate with Cascade for John’s release. You will need to inform Cascade that the hiker passed on incomplete images, and there is a timer on the images. Convince Cascade that I called you with instructions to retrieve the memory stick that will prove John was assisting me to take time off to confirm my suspicion that the images were incomplete. John will support this since he requested time off for me, but it was denied.”
Mary started pacing too. “Dak, this will work. Cascade gets the memory stick images, and John is released. And a friend of yours called me with instructions to retrieve a memory stick taped to a light pole at Fort McDowell Casino. That will give me cover if they track taxi records. I’ll work on the details. Will you be driving me to the casino?”
“No, we can’t risk being seen together.” I had an additional plan. I told Mary she would drive the rustic jeep in the garage as a decoy. Unknown to her, I would retrieve my jeep at the tunnel to leave town. I explained that she could toss the sensors into the Verde River nearby. This would enable her to drive without the sensors as they floated down the river.
Mary agreed with the plan. We quickly removed the two sensors from the jeep. Mary rolled them into balls with duct tape and gravel. She kept adding more stuff as she tested them by heaving them up in the air.
Then she placed the sensor balls in a bag. “This will work.” With a smile, she removed the RAD from her pants. “You may need this.”
Hesitantly, I asked, “Are you sure? I have a few in my backpack.”
Mary said, “Don’t worry. I have more at home. Right now, I’m safer without it. Too many questions could be asked.”
I took the Rad and gave Mary the foiled wrapped image copy from the garage. We kept going over our plan to perfect the details. I gave Mary instructions for leaving me and
Ronzo a message. With as much as she knew now, I hoped she wouldn’t be held by Cascade.
Mary pulled her hair into a wadded ponytail, saying, “I’ll call the service number, announce your name, and then spell it. Then I’ll say, ‘Dak’s message center,’ which will enable me to leave you a message.”
“Good. Then afterward, call the same number, repeat my name, ask for track 102, and leave this message for my friends: ‘Dak is driving a rental jeep to a Sedona Creek camp. Dak’s rustic jeep is parked at the Scottsdale hotel.’”
“I have it,” Mary said, and she repeated the instructions, following me around as I hurriedly packed camping supplies for a lengthy trip.
We said our goodbyes. I thanked Mary and admitted I was glad she’d found the cabin. I followed Mary to the jeep to make sure it started. The engine roared, and Mary started to back out. I wished her a strong throw when she tossed the sensors into the Verde River as she crossed the bridge. This would cause confusion if it floated down the river, enabling her to lose any follower to the hotel.
Within minutes, I rolled the largest bag through the tunnel, stuffed with a pup tent, a sleeping bag, a portable solar oven, carbon water filters, dried food, and books along with a small canvas bag attached. Secured in my bulging backpack, I had the two Trevor memory sticks and the used one. I’d felt a twinge of guilt when I had told Mary that I had a rental vehicle at a neighbor’s ranch nearby that I would walk to for security reasons.
I shoved the bags into the dusty jeep as I glanced around for any unusual activity. My problem was that I couldn’t identify my enemies, which meant everyone and everything became suspect.
I drove into the desolate desert in the rented four-wheel jeep made for such terrain. I wheeled over river rock and muddy washes and bounced over shrub mounds for miles before entering Highway 87 toward Payson.
Occupied with heavy thoughts, I drove the mountainous, curvy road like a daily commuter, passing Payson, Strawberry, and Camp Verde without noticing the scenic area. I mulled over the images, calculating various scenarios. Were the images fraudulent or real? Was the round object a nearby orbital planet with an artificial satellite? Or could it be a rescue object? When, where, and how were the images taken? Who had taken them? I couldn’t decide which answer could provide me with the most data to begin my search.
