He decided he should have a drink to celebrate his good fortune. He walked over to the bar that commanded a prominent position in the corner of his large private office. He settled on an expensive single-malt scotch and took a seat in a leather chair by his fireplace, sipping his drink. Dr. Hage liked his firewater. I may go down in history as the greatest psychiatrist ever. Greater than Sigmund Freud, he mused.
His quest had started over twenty years ago when he was approached by a government agent from the newly formed and very secretive division of the government called the NSA. Dr. Aaron Hage already had a successful practice treating mental disorders, but the man offered him a new opportunity. The Agent had said they needed accredited scientists to study the paranormal. He explained that NSA ran a covert facility outside of Denver, Colorado where subjects were housed. The ambitious doctor quickly agreed to an interview with the director and was escorted to the center by the agent. He hoped to be the first person to learn how to control paranormal activity and now he had a possible opportunity.
When he got there he discovered that the facility contained people who had special powers like levitation, telepathy, kinetics and other paranormal abilities. The director of the research center, Cindy Creighton, explained that they already knew the powers were produced and controlled by the human brain. When the inhabitants exhibited paranormal behavior, scientists had recorded extreme amounts of brain activity. They were sure the activity was a key. She explained that people housed at the facility were able to tap into more brain power than the estimated ten percent of brain energy that normal people used in their lifetime. She said the research center was charged with finding out how the inhabitants did it and how the government could use that information. He remembered asking questions.
***
“This is fascinating. How do you find your subjects?”
“That is a need to know question,” Cindy Creighton replied solemnly and shook her head no. “But if you ever run across someone who has extraordinary powers, please give me a call. We have a special team called the ‘gift squad’ who will pick them up for you to study at the clinic.”
“Do we pay the people housed here?” he had asked curiously. He had noticed about forty people during his visit.
“Once we take them. They disappear from their regular life and are here for the duration,” Cindy explained without a hint of emotion. “In essence, we make them disappear from their former life.”
“But aren’t we keeping them against their will then?” Dr. Hage asked. Several constitutional issues crossed his mind.
“Most like it here,” she quickly replied insincerely. “What we do is for the betterment and protection of our country,” Cindy added with the glint of a fanatic in her eyes. “Sometimes a few must sacrifice for the safety of the whole.”
“But this sounds illegal.” The doctor said with concern. What have I gotten myself into? He wondered.
“We’ll pay you four hundred thousand dollars a year and you can publish any of your findings,” Cindy replied.
“I understand,” the now eager doctor responded. He couldn’t wait to begin his research on the subjects. It over-shadowed his moral concerns.
***
Doctor Aaron Hage had done his job well and verified some intriguing observations over many years. His studies showed that all paranormal activities were triggered by a level of emotional stress. It was not a new discovery, but it was a breakthrough because it had not been proven before.
A few years into the program, he had another breakthrough. He was delighted to discover that one of his private practice clients had paranormal abilities. He had premonitions. The Denver facility didn’t have a program for premonitions so he kept Joey to himself for over ten years while he studied the youngster.
During that time he tried a variety of experiments on how to control and enhance Joey’s gift. None of them worked until Joey started visiting his grandfather in Nevada. His power became more defined and stronger after each visit. After carefully interrogating the young boy, Dr. Hage discovered that his grandfather’s land had high concentrations of rare earth. Dr. Hage set about running experiments to measure the changes in the boy.
His hard work was rewarded when he realized there were two triggers needed to control Joey’s premonitions. The right amount of stress and the exposure to the radiation emitted by rare earth elements made Joey’s premonitions stronger and more predictable. The radiation affected his brain. The doctor just needed to do some more experiments to determine the right amount of stress and rare earth exposure to make Joey a useful tool. Once he did that, Aaron Hage would become the greatest psychiatrist in history.
Doctor Hage had already written a very detailed report about Joey which included his background, his friends, his tribe, and even about the stones. He had already sent it to the director. He calculated that some of Joey’s background could be useful in providing the necessary stress during his experiments. Cindy Creighton had read the report and approved the addition of Joey into the program. And now Dr. Hage could get him there.
He picked up the phone which sat on the small table next to his leather chair. He dialed Cindy’s number. When she finally answered he said.
“I’ve got one for you,” he stated in a calm voice.
“Let me guess,” Cindy replied cheerfully. “It’s Joey Brownwater right?”
“I promised him the gift squad would pick him up in the morning,” Dr. Hage replied.
“Where is he located?” Cindy asked.
“He’s located just outside of Las Vegas.”
“Oh, that could be a problem,” Cindy said with concern.
“Why?”
“I sent the gift squad to the Midwest to pick something up. They may not be able to get all the way to Las Vegas by morning.”
“If we don’t pick him up by then, he may change his mind,” Dr. Hage blustered. “This man is too important to be hindered by bureaucratic snafus.”
Cindy was a tough cookie. “We can pick him up anytime. Why tomorrow?”
“If we don’t do it by tomorrow, his gift may develop beyond our ability to control him,” the doctor screamed into the phone. “He just wrote me that he has already changed the future once. What if he has a premonition about the facility? He could change everything and all my research would be useless.”
“Oh, in that case, I’ll make sure they are there on time,” Cindy said as she backed down. To her, the doctor had become irritatingly pushy. He worked for her not the other way around.
“Good. Let me know when he arrives. I want to come to visit him as soon as possible,” the doctor ordered.
“I’ll do that,” Cindy responded through gritted teeth.
“And don’t sedate him. I need his mind to be sharp,” the doctor demanded. “I want to get right to work.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cindy replied sarcastically as she wondered if she had another doctor on staff to continue the work. Dr. Hage may have outlived his usefulness.
He then hung up the phone roughly without saying goodbye. I’ll be the greatest behavioral scientist ever, he thought as he sipped his drink.
***
Cindy quickly turned to an assistant who was standing by her desk in Colorado. “Call the controller for the gift squad and have him tell them they are to pick up Joey Brownwater tomorrow morning. There are to be no excuses,” she ordered. “He is at the ranch listed in our notes on him.”
“Why don’t you call them directly?” The assistant asked pleasantly.
“I know them,” she quickly replied. “I worked with them in the field some time back. It was on another case which for some reason I can’t remember much about.” Cindy had tried many times to remember the facts of the case, but just couldn’t find them in her brain.
“You can’t remember the teams names?”
“That’s not it. I can’t remember the name of the person we were after and I might have said some things,” Cindy said.
“Is that a pro
blem?”
“No, not really, but I really don’t want them to know I am the director of the whole program here,” she replied “They think all I do is translate Russian to English.”
Chapter Forty-Four
“First, let me tell you what is recorded on the stones. They recap the Phoenician exodus from the copper mines,” Professor Lisa Lange began. She spread a map of the United States across the table. Everyone leaned in to follow her delicate long finger as she traced the Phoenicians route to their new homeland.
“The Isle Royal island is here,” she pointed. She then dragged her finger to trace the route. “They crossed Lake Superior and went around the peninsula of Upper Michigan. Then went down Lake Michigan along the coast and entered the Fox River in Northern Wisconsin. From there they traveled to the portage site right here.” She looked up to make sure everyone was following her route. “They crossed over to the Wisconsin River which flows into the Mississippi River and went south.”
“But where did they get the ships to travel down the Mississippi River?” Heather quickly asked.
“That’s pretty clear,” Lisa explained. “The writer recorded that they left the copper mining settlement with six sailing ships that could employ sixty rowers each. They also had a barge and hundreds of canoes. At the portage site they dragged the ships, one at a time, to the Wisconsin River. They then used those ships on the bigger rivers. They traveled down-stream until they reached the Ohio River and took the Tennessee River branch all the way to eastern Tennessee. That’s where they settled.” Lisa tapped the map on an area just south of current day Knoxville.
“Why did they stop there?” Mandy inquired.
“Good question,” Lisa replied. “Remember they had sent scouts out to search for a new homeland. The area they chose was based on the scout’s findings.”
“Do the writings say why?” Mandy continued with almost the same question.
“There were actually three reasons why that area was chosen,” Lisa explained as she used her fingers for emphasis. “First was the climate. It was much better than Northern Michigan. Second, the scouts reported there were few other tribes in the area and they were not war-like. Don’t forget, the Phoenicians had been battling the Northern Indians, particularly the Iroquois, for well over a hundred years. There were no known Iroquois Indians in the area. They wanted peace.”
“What was the third reason?” Mandy pestered Lisa.
“The third reason was the mountains. Not only was the area diverse and fill of wildlife, but the rugged mountains provided extra security from invaders.”
“How?” Mandy asked curiously.
“Very simply, if someone attacked them, they could hide in caves and the very difficult terrain of the mountains. They could blend into their environment. Also the Phoenicians understood that higher ground was always better as a defense against an attack.”
“It sounds like they went inland. What did they do with their ships?” Steve wanted to know.
“Not much is mentioned about them,” Lisa replied. “The writings say they used one of the ships to forage and trade with local tribes down river, but my guess is that they burned them or used the wood for construction of their first longhouses. Remember, they didn’t want to be found.”
“But, why do you say that?” Heather asked. “I mean, why didn’t they just sail back to their original homeland?”
“Good point,” Lisa agreed. “According to the records, the Phoenicians brought new people to work the mines on a continuous basis on every returning ship. They were Greeks, Egyptians, Hebrews and several other races, but they were mostly slaves. Those people didn’t want to go back because they would just be a slave to someone else. The rest of the people were native to America for many generations and had never seen the old world. There was nothing for them to go back to in the Mediterranean. Their best course for survival was to hide. Their ships would have been a giveaway, so they probably destroyed them.”
“That could explain why no archeologists have ever found any wreckage in the river,” Banyon surmised thoughtfully. “And why no one has suspected that the Cherokee were originally the Phoenicians until now.”
“Oh, but there’s been plenty of evidence found in the area,” Lisa quickly explained. “Sometimes, I think that there has been a massive cover-up to prevent the truth from coming to the surface.”
“You’re describing a conspiracy,” Banyon noted. He knew a thing or two about conspiracies.
“Yes, I think you could say that,” Lisa agreed. She was well known for her out of the box thinking on historical events and often proposed theories to her students that went against conventional thinking — sometimes she was proven right.
“Why do you think there is a conspiracy?” Heather asked.
“Every time a new artifact is uncovered, some expert comes out of nowhere and claims it is a fake, that’s why.” Lisa seemed to become angry as she spoke. “In the end, it becomes one expert against another expert. In the world of archeology, conventional wisdom is to maintain status quo. Any new ideas are accepted slowly.”
“But haven’t there been some major breakthroughs in archeology over the last several years?” Heather asked.
“There have been many,” Lisa replied with the nod of her head. “For example, we now know civilizations existed well before scientists originally thought they were possible. In Egypt, the prominent experts now believe we have only uncovered about ten percent of the deserts treasures and ancient structures. The list is very long.”
“Who would want to hide this discovery?” Heather questioned.
“I can think of several groups of people,” Lisa said back to her. “There is the Columbus Society who still wants to maintain that Columbus discovered America. Then there are the archeologists who have become popular by now claiming that the Vikings were here first. Next you have the Federal government and even the Cherokee people might want to hide this revelation from the public.”
“Why?” Mandy asked.
“Money and power,” Banyon voiced. “It’s always about both. The Columbus society advocates would lose revenues, so would the newly popular Viking supporters if history changed. The Federal government would be beseeched with lawsuits and petitions against their policies concerning the Cherokee. Of course, the Cherokees would have the most to lose. Can you imagine the chaos that would be caused if they were declared regular immigrants and not special interest Native Indians? There is something like 350,000 registered Cherokees currently in the United States.”
“It would be just like in George Orwell’s book called 1984,”Steve blurted out. “We would be spending our time and energy rewriting history.”
“And let’s not forget the people who would benefit from this discovery,” Heather shot out. “They would include — you professor,” she said accusingly and pointed her finger.
“But…,” Lisa stammered.
Heather interrupted her and continued. “There are also lawyers all over the world who could place lawsuits claiming that Royal Isle, parts of New Hampshire or even the Smoky Mountains belong to the people of Lebanon. In today’s — let’s make a deal — environment anything could happen. We might windup seeing road signs in New Hampshire in Arabic.”
“Over my dead body,” Steve hissed.
Banyon raised his hands and clapped. “Listen up,” he said hotly. “The one thing that is certain is that any announcement that the Phoenicians became the Cherokees, would cause a polarizing effect on a lot of people.”
“Yeah, this is a bigger problem than I thought,” Steve admitted. “Should we hide the information on the stones, or let it out.”
“Maybe Lisa could help us decide,” Banyon said diplomatically and motioned for her to continue.
Chapter Forty-Five
Cindy Creighton had spent most of her career as the director of the research facility in Denver. She was a consummate bureaucrat. She was good at handling people transfers, giving orders and reviewing budgets. She was not
qualified to comment on the work done by her twenty scientists and as a result, she let them manage themselves. They submitted proposals for experiments with the necessary back up and she rubber-stamped them after conducting a steering committee meeting of scientists. They could evaluate whether the experiment was worth conducting. They were always worth it. The need for the facility was long-term and generally required little effort to keep rolling. Cindy liked it that way, but her job was very boring.
Now, all of a sudden, she had two initiatives moving forward at the same time and they were bottlenecked by her lack of help. She had only one gift squad to use to complete the pickup of subjects and they were only part-time employees. The problem was they couldn’t be in two places at once. That was why she was in the process of writing a memo to her boss at the NSA. She was requesting a second team. She didn’t want to put up with the current stressful position she was encountering again. Her answer to everything was to write a memo.
When the memo was completed and fired off to the NSA, she decided that she had better check on the progress of the initiatives. She picked up her phone and called the controller for the gift team.
“Have they reached the site yet?” She asked in a concerned voice.
“They are about ten miles away,” he replied back without hesitation. “They’ll get there shortly after dark just as you requested.” He knew that it was better to give her an answer even if he really didn’t have one.
“Good,” she remarked. “Have you told them about going to Las Vegas yet?”
“I…ah…haven’t finished making flight arrangements yet,” he lied. He didn’t want to tell her what the leader of the gift squad had said when he had explained their next project. The leader was already livid that Cindy expected them to dig holes in Wisconsin dirt.
“What’s the hold up?”
“We may have to rent a private plane,” he responded. “I need your authorization for something that big.”
“Send me an email. I’ll approve it.”
A Dubious Race: The Phoenician Stones (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 14) Page 14
