by J. K. Scott
As I moved my pen, the lines appeared on the screen. John adjusted the scale on the screen to focus on the two anchor dots, saying, “Wow, this is good.”
I lifted my hand from the drawing for a break, asking the others, “How have you managed to avoid implants?”
Fargo looked around and answered, “My parents embedded an implant in me when I was young. I didn’t even know it. Before Adam hired me, he showed me the implant and had it removed. Fortunately, Kim and Shelly were raised on community farms. Their families protected them from implants. And John is clean but refuses to tell his story.”
John grinned, seemingly proud to protect his secret from them.
“How do you protect yourselves from electronics, smartphones, or even liquid implants?”
Shelly shoved back her soft, wispy blonde hair; widened her blue eyes; and gently placed her hand on my shoulder. “We don’t socialize or bring attention to ourselves. We live in a protected bubble. Our charter is to analyze data regarding incoming events to our planet.”
Kim added, “I vehemently oppose implants. I prefer to live off the grid and work on uncovering facts about our universe or multiverses. The majority seem to be uninterested and subjugate their powers to others who are building underground bunkers and submersibles to protect themselves from any cataclysm. I have little patience with closed minds and fear that dilutes the sagacity of our work.”
I admired the gurus’ dedication and focused goals. Shelly’s hand touched my shoulder, and she smiled at me. I felt uneasy at her closeness. I lifted the pen and began connecting the intricate dot patterns in the two-dimensional form. With added overlays, the dot connections morphed into three-dimensional objects with each overlay.
Shelly lifted my pen-holding hand from the delicate drawing as Fargo placed another overlay. In the interim, John busily worked on saving each layer with basic modeling. Digital imprints appeared with my touch that simulated the images on the screen. Kim replaced the pens as the magnetic ink expired. I continued drawing the images in my vision. I often wondered how my mind knew what to do.
After an hour of drawing, I announced, “I’ve connected all the pixel dots.” I stood and stretched, relived to have a break to eat an avocado sandwich and gulp hot coffee while John and Fargo hovered over the computers.
John said, “Are you ready? We have the final three-dimensional models for both forms.”
I stared in awe, viewing the two materialized objects. Finished with the formed images, John continued to adjust the layers into tighter aspects for the three-dimensional forms.
Fargo computed the spatial analysis as sky scape coordinated the final mathematical analysis of the objects. Fargo used several backgrounds to recreate different possibilities. I chuckled when he downsized the forms inside Schroder’s box tested on single electrons.
Everyone froze when Fargo said, “These two forms actually scale larger and could be scary. Dak, it is unbelievable that you reconnected them from raw patterns.” Fargo turned and looked at us. “I calculated other aspects and believe they could be a quite large NEO or incoming asteroid or an unknown. It’s interesting the two images were on one frame and separate on the other frames, but together they could be monumental.”
Kim said, “This reminds me of Manuscript 3:10 in the Kolbrin: ‘In those days, men will have the Great Book before them; wisdom will be revealed: the few will be gathered for the stand: it is the hour of trial. The dauntless ones will survive: the stouthearted will not go down to destruction.’”
Shelly glanced over at me. “Dak, what are you feeling when you see these two forms?”
“I’m unsure how I feel, but you are the dauntless ones if Planet X or another incoming object is identified in our reality,” I said, aware that at their age, I’d been clueless about the Destroyer, the Frightener, Nibiru, or Planet X. They were deeply versed on worldly challenges.
Fargo and John continued to model the drawings. Kim joined them at another computer, saying, “Dak, sit next to me. We are not done. We need more texture and shades to finish this project.”
I sat in the chair. Shelly placed her hands on my shoulders. I flinched as she began massaging my neck and shoulders. Fargo glanced over. She whispered in my ear, “I’m trying to release your tension—that’s it.”
A flush came over me. My tension lessened when she moved to John and massaged his neck and bushy scalp. I was able to be more attentive to listen to Kim explain her insights for uncovering various hues and shadows in the forms. Working with Kim, I was immersed in a psychological ocean of color therapy, identifying and repeating colors in the more dynamic areas.
After an hour, Kim suggested we take a break. As I was eating an apple from the food table, I heard a musical alarm that echoed in the room. The others looked toward the door. Adam walked in and stimulated a jolt of enthusiasm. Speechless, Adam stared at the screen. The rainbow-colored images had a definitive form that appeared haunting.
Astonished by the transformation from darkness and light forms to colorful intricacies, I thought about Brandon’s gift of synesthesia, wondering what melody or taste he would experience viewing the forms. The three-dimensional model suspended in space appeared surreal. I moved around the room to view it from various angles as John changed the background from bright sunlight to dawn and then to darkness with stars in the sky.
John said, “Wow, this would make the coolest poster with a byline of ‘What is this?’”
Fargo said, “Sure, and blow our cover. This brings to mind that the latest space probe, New Horizons, could have captured these images in the Kuiper Belt. These images easily expand to the smallest dwarf planets, comparing Pluto to its moon Charon. I love the comment about searching for possible alien intelligence by Loeb and Turner in 2012—they suggested looking for city lights on Kuiper Belt objects.”
John added, “Pluto’s distance to Charon is only twelve thousand two hundred miles, which is similar to the proximity between the two objects in the same frame. These two objects could be a planet and a strange-appearing artificial satellite. The void spaces in the one object could be energy or light in the pinprick areas.”
Shelly added, “Dak, we have a predisposition to compare cosmic objects to Pluto and Charon because we believe the anomalies of Pluto and Charon in the Kuiper Belt have a special hidden history connected to Planet X. Also, Pluto and Charon happen to be locked in a dance that keeps the same hemisphere facing one another. What if these two forms have a unique dependent relationship?”
“Remember—these forms were supposedly taken with a camera. And I’ve always suspected these two objects could have a codependency. The question is, do they have light and propulsion?” I said.
Kim said, “That’s a great question. We do know that Pluto has a reflective nature with the appearance of nitrogen ice, and Charon appears to be a water-ice object and is bluer than Pluto. I see similar characteristic contrasts in your image colorations.”
“Kim, are you suggesting these two objects could be a planet and a moon, or the strange doughnut object could be the planet’s artificial satellite?”
“Yes, similar to Pluto and Charon,” Kim said.
John intervened. “We need to determine if the objects are man-made or if we are viewing strange dwarf planets or large asteroids.”
Adam took a chug from his beer and glanced at me. “Let’s skip the speculations. This is a classified program that needs more analysis. These forms could be smaller and man-made objects from Earth. We need to be objective, and it’s after two in the morning.”
We all agreed we needed sleep. In the past seven hours, we had accomplished what I’d attempted to do in three days at Cascade with limited frames. I wondered where everyone slept. The computers had overtaken the living area. Even the kitchen had books and boxes stacked on the floor.
Kim noticed me glancing around and said, “Shelly and I sleep on the patio
lounge chairs. There are two bunk beds in the room next to the bathroom.”
I took advantage of the vacant bathroom. When I returned, Adam was in deep conversation with John and Fargo. I felt uneasy not being included as I asked Kim and Shelly about their education prior to Dakota’s Haunt. I sensed something was wrong, overhearing Adam, Fargo, and John conversing.
After a few minutes, Adam approached me. “Dak, I need to talk to you.” He led me to the bedroom with two unmade bunk beds.
Uncomfortable in the small, messy room, I leaned against one bunk bed, and Adam faced me. In a serious tone, he said, “Dak, Kisha was interrogated late today. It had nothing to do with any video glitch at the condo. Palm Frog asked her about her contact in Sedona. Harmony, who arranged the lecture was Kisha’s only contact. Palm Frog insisted she had talked to someone other than Harmony. Kisha admitted that she had talked to Harmony and her boyfriend after returning to Sarasota.”
My heart sank. I had compromised Kisha’s security by meeting with her. The combined emotional weight of the deceased hiker, Harmony, and Kisha now joined that of Mary and Wheeler, which was devastating.
Adam politely said, “Fortunately, Kisha always secures my phone in a rented mailbox. I’ve destroyed it, but she’s worried. I think you should leave. I’ve asked John to make a copy of your work for you to take with you. Today’s work is only compatible with the level of a Spartan V parallel processor, which runs the program to calculate vast spatial measurements. There are only five of these computer models in the United States.”
Acutely aware of the gurus’ security risks at the lab, the unidentifiable forms were unable to confirm that Planet X or any other currently incoming objects were nearby.
As if Adam read my mind, he said, “Dak, we will continue to do comparative analysis on the images. John believes you know the meaning of these images. Fargo has suggested you take a look at various torus objects.”
I was absorbing what Adam had said, when a soft tap on the door interrupted us. Fargo and John stepped into the bedroom and joined us.
Fargo softly said, “Dak, we’re bummed that Kisha has been interrogated. We will continue to compare these forms with other objects. You might take a look at a torus, a ring torus, and beyond. Geometry classifies it as a surface that circles or revolves around to create dimensional circles. There is the Clifford torus that’s associated with four-space and many other circles that wrap or integrate into another circle. Imagine an inner tube.”
John added, “I agree with Fargo; we need more comparisons. These forms could be from microscopic cells of bacteria or a virus. Someday, science will uncover that our body cells are connected to various tori, if they haven’t already done so.”
Adam said, “You didn’t hear this from me. Remember the name Turbero. It could be a valuable resource for you to solve these images. Currently, the images are still a mystery with more questions than answers.”
I repeated the name Turbero, associating it with a torus. I asked that the final forms be added to a Mylar disc I had.
John grinned. “Kim has downloaded them onto the Mylar disc you took from Kisha. Sorry, Dak, but I asked Kim to check your bag in the Faraday cage for me. You now have the images and the added dimensional work from tonight.”
I thanked them and left the bedroom, deflated that I had to leave.
Adam told Kim and Shelly that I’d be leaving immediately for security reasons. Fargo advised me not to stray from my work. John patted me on the back, commenting that he wished he had my dimensional skills.
Then John asked, “Dak, are you informed about the latest UAP?” He was referring to an unidentified aerial phenomenon.
“I’m aware. My father and I shared a keen interest, and we speculated about why the public wasn’t more interested in possible cosmic intelligence in our known universe, knowing that microbes had been detected in the known universe despite the absence of information on cosmic intelligence.”
John explained, “I didn’t have time to run MUFON, Open Minds TV, and military databases to compare the images from known and unknown objects, photographs, and drawings submitted over the past decades. I did compare drones and future designs, and there wasn’t a positive match.”
Everyone agreed more work was needed. I expressed my gratitude for their contribution to formulating the fragments into forms. On the porch, Adam passed me my burner phone, which I tucked inside my bag with the Mylar disc. I hugged Shelly and Kim warmly and said goodbye.
Adam drove me back to Bill’s Seafood Grill. Our conversation contained little content. We both avoided talking about Kisha and any repercussions from her interrogation. Adam’s video skills were impressive. He was also diligent in protecting Kisha, his best agent. I suspected there could be more. I couldn’t understand what prompted Kisha to be intimate with me. Our intimacy would linger as a memorable moment, as she’d mentioned. More important, I felt deeply indebted to her.
Adam was in a difficult situation, since matters had become complicated. With my warrant, he had to protect the gurus and Kisha. Assisting me further would blow his and Kisha’s covers. My warrant for stealing classified matter was not a light violation. We exchanged polite goodbyes as he pulled next to my jeep in the dark parking lot. When I got out, he said, “Dak, stay safe. My hands are tied, but you have your images.”
I understood. “I appreciate it. Having the finished images should help my case.”
In the jeep, I hid the bag under the wadded tent. I felt like the courier and hoped we wouldn’t share the same fate. I watched Adam’s taillights disappear as he turned south before I headed toward Sarasota Bay with a heavy heart.
22
ISOLATED AND ALONE, I thought of my father’s words from years ago: “You may not know where you’re going, but you know where you’ve been.” The only option I had was to call Ronzo and return to Sedona. I had finalized the images, and with Palm Frog questioning Kisha, I had to consider that Cascade had tentacles with other covert companies. I couldn’t fathom that Peter would have alerted Cascade, but I couldn’t be sure. The thought was unsettling. I realized I shouldn’t have given Rustler my contact number.
I drove to a local Sarasota Bay fishermen’s haunt and parked next to a battered van. A dim light in the tackle shack appeared haunting. Boats ebbed in the shallow light waves. I slept restlessly, coiled on the back seat until daybreak. At dawn, I walked among the fishermen, anxiously waiting to call Ronzo. Waves of nausea overcame me as I thought about my dilemma.
I used the new burner phone to call Ronzo. Ashley was relieved I had called and immediately transferred me to Lee, who asked, “Dak, are you all right?”
I briefed Lee on my activity.
“Dak, I have bad news,” Lee said solemnly.
“What?” I said as my body tensed.
“Your message line has been hacked and removed off-line. I did retrieve the messages. Peter called, and he needs to talk to you. Rustler left two messages; the first one said that Peter is taking care of Harmony, and the second one said that you were a piece of shit. He was on the run too.”
I had triggered one hell of a mess. This had to be about more than just Cascade. Who was after me? Why wasn’t BBB helping me? And what was so threatening? All fronts seemed to be collapsing.
“Dak, I have more bad news.”
I raised my voice. “More?” I said, bracing for the worst.
Ignoring my reaction, Lee said, “There’s a police bulletin for your jeep. The police claim a witness identified your jeep’s plates driving away from the Landmark Sedona Motel after a botched robbery and shooting. Dak, we leased the jeep from a shell company. The police contacted us about the vehicle. We claimed the jeep was stolen. And as a precaution, we transferred two of our servers to a different location, and we have our members on the dark web on another IP address for protection. I’m sorry, Dak; we are doing all we can to protect you, but it’
s impacting our business. I hope everything will be resolved soon. Ashley is finalizing the plans to dispose of the jeep. Are you sure you want to return?”
Without hesitation, I said, “Yes, I need to return to Sedona.”
“Okay, I’ll have Ashley arrange it. Please hold.”
Lee seemed to take forever to return to the line. When he did, he said, “At noon today, the jeep will be picked up at the Sarasota Holiday Inn parking lot at the Sarasota Airport. The vehicle will be a white freezer truck. Later, around two o’clock, there will be a transport truck at Honore Avenue and University Parkway, in the Home Deport parking lot. There will be an old black Charlie truck on the lower level. The driver will require you to stay hidden in the cab until Sedona. And, Dak, the jeep needs to be spotless and returned on time.”
I repeated the plans to Lee, encouraged to be leaving but dismayed over the problems I’d caused Ronzo. With little time left, I prepared a list of supplies I needed. After several stops, I bought a new burner for extra precaution, two gallons of bleach, a box of plastic gloves, bleach wipes, and some cheap towels.
At a self-service car wash, I cleaned the jeep for any DNA. The smell of bleach fogged my eyes, permeated my skin, and plugged my nostrils. I dumped my tent in the garbage bin near the car wash. Then I stopped at a vacant lot and buried the old burners I had used. After two more garbage stops, I only had my canvas bag, backpack, and bleach wipes. I changed into my beach-bum look disguise to prevent anyone from identifying me under camera lens. At my final stop, I bought water and food supplies and stuffed them in the backpack for the long haul to Sedona.
Near the Holiday Inn, with the jeep wiped, I waited behind a garbage bin, sweating profusely in the hot sun. The white freezer truck arrived on time, and I observed the gloved driver roll the jeep inside the truck and leave. I suspected he would ditch the stolen jeep in another state on a rural road without cameras.
