Joseph was snuggled deep in his sleeping bag as the sun tentatively approached the jagged mountain peaks along the eastern horizon, casting a faint golden aura across the desert-scape.
Dad arose, and glanced at the lump in the bottom of Joseph’s sleeping bag. He had a long day yesterday, he thought to himself, as he quietly fired up the small propane stove for a large breakfast.
The morning was still cool and pleasant when the lump began to move. Slowly, it moved up the sleeping bag until finally, a blonde pillow head with light blue eyes emerged.
With a yawn and a slow stretch, the sleepy boy mumbled: “What time is it?”
“Morning time – time to find those geodes we came for.”
“I hope we find more than yesterday.” Joseph breathed down a pancake smothered in real maple syrup, quickly followed by two more and topped off with a pile of scrambled eggs and a small carton of milk.
“How were geodes formed, anyway?” inquired Joseph.
“Geodes were originally bubbles in lava rock and over a very long period of time minerals seeped into these bubbles in the rock and crystallized, forming the beautiful crystals in the geodes. This process made the geodes harder than the surrounding rock; as the rock eroded, the geodes were freed and rolled down the mountain and eventually ended up being deposited in the sand at the bottom of a great lake. In time, the lake evaporated and became a desert.”
“Think we’ll find something worth keeping today?” Joseph asked.
“I’m thinking that since we found so many geode fragments along the edge and sides of the gully, maybe we ought to dig right into the side of the gully.”
A strange thought suddenly occurred to Joseph. “Maybe the spearhead is an ancient Native American good luck omen.” He couldn’t explain why, but Joseph suddenly felt impressed to say: “We should dig here in the bottom, right where we found the spearhead.”
Joseph grabbed his digging tools and the shade umbrella.
“I think the digging would be easier in the side of the hill,” pressed Dad.
“But this feels like a lucky spot,” replied Joseph, as he set up the umbrella with its precious shade directed over the flat rock.
“That’s good enough for me,” agreed Dad.
As they dug, they fell into a routine. Dad picked, and then Joseph shoveled. Every now and then Joseph picked up a large geode fragment from the sand he was shoveling and put it in a bucket.
“This one is very pretty; but why are we only finding broken geodes?” asked Joseph, with some disappointment.
“Don’t know,” huffed Dad, as he put down the pick.
Joseph picked it up. “Spell ya?”
“Thanks.” Dad climbed out of the hole and sat down on the bucket of geode fragments.
Joseph’s first swing of the pick bounced right back with a loud clang.
“Ugh. What is that?” questioned Joseph, his hands stinging from the vibration of the pick handle.
“Quick, get out of the hole!” exclaimed Dad in an urgent voice.
“Why?” asked Joseph, as he scrambled out of the hole. They quickly clambered up the steep slope at the end of the gully and Dad explained between great breaths: “This area is close to the Dugway military firing range; it might be an unexploded artillery shell!”
As they climbed out of the gully, they dove behind a large rock outcropping that leaned away from the gully, creating a cave-like shelter. They peered around the edge of the rock and could see the hole they had dug, the truck parked next to it at the bottom of the gully, and the gentle slope they had driven down leading away and out of the gully. The outcropping of rock they were hiding behind was on top of a small hill about fifteen feet higher than the edge of the gully. They looked all around and noticed for the first time that the edges of the gully also seemed to be mounded up slightly more than the surrounding desert, which sloped gently to the south for what looked like several miles toward a great flat plain, with very little vegetation.
“From up here, it looks like a big scrape in the desert,” mused Joseph.
“That’s odd,” observed Dad, as he looked down at their dig site. “That gully slopes the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” inquired Joseph.
“Gullies and canyons are created by erosion, right? As water flows down them, it cuts them deeper, until it flows down into a river or valley. This one slopes down, alright, but it cuts crossways across the main slope, and it ends in a pit instead of emptying out onto lower ground.”
Joseph looked at the gully thoughtfully. “Erosion is slowly filling it in, rather than cutting it out.”
A thought suddenly occurred to Dad: “This must be a meteorite crater! See the shape of the depression: it’s long and sloping from one end to the other. The trajectory of the meteorite must have been almost parallel to the ground; and its velocity…”
“Wow!” Joseph interrupted excitedly. “A meteorite is even cooler than geodes!” After a short pause, “So, you don’t think it’s an unexploded artillery shell?”
“Nope, this pit is way too big…”
“That must be one big meteorite!” exclaimed Joseph, as he began to stand up. He glanced up at the outcropping of rock that hung over them.
“Look at that, Dad.”
Above them, etched into the rock were strange looking drawings.
“Pictographs,” stated Dad.
“Do they mean anything?”
“Who knows,” Dad laughed. “I guess you might consider them ancient graffiti.”
“What about these,” asked Joseph, pointing to some type of ancient inscription etched into the rock.
“I wish I had Mom’s knowledge of ancient languages,” said Dad.
“She wouldn’t know what this says anyway; didn’t she study Latin and Greek?” responded Joseph.
“I guess you’re right, I don’t think she knows any Native American languages.”
“Oh well, meteorites are a lot cooler than old rock art,” said Joseph, as he ran back down into the pit.
Joseph and his dad resumed their excavation with renewed vigor. Joseph didn’t even pause to save the broken geodes. His shovel was flying so fast that Thomas decided it would be safer to watch from the edge of the hole. The shovel struck the metallic object several times, but the sand continued to pour into the bottom of the hole. Finally, enough sand was removed; Joseph threw his shovel onto the edge of the hole and, bending down, began to brush the sand away from the metal object.
As Dad was climbing into the hole he heard Joseph: “Wow, no way! Look at that, it’s not like the meteorites at the natural history museum—it’s too smooth.”
Joseph had exposed about a foot of the strangest material he had ever seen. On the surface it was dark and shiny and yet not reflective. “That’s definitely no artillery shell,” whispered Dad.
“Then what?” queried Joseph as he raised his hands slightly for added emphasis.
“Let’s find out.” They began removing the sand in an attempt to find the edges of the object.
The sun quickly moved across the desert sky; the shade from their sun umbrella no longer fell upon the team as they worked. Oblivious of the heat, beads of sweat glistened and danced, then rolled to the ground, leaving tracks in the dust on their faces.
More of the object was now exposed; it seemed spherical and they estimated it to be about twelve feet in diameter. Kneeling down, they brushed away the sand with their hands. It felt smoother than glass and cool to the touch, even in the hot desert sun. The surface was absolutely flawless – no cracks, rust, pits, or scratches at all – even where they had scraped and banged it with the pick and shovel.
When examining the metal from slightly varying angles, the color seemed to be a changing, blending combination of different shades of midnight blue and subdued dark purple to black, accented with hints of deep dark reds and yellows, almost like swirls of different colors of oil floating on water, blended together, but not fully mixing.
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sp; It seemed to draw them toward it until they had their faces pressed close up with their hands cupped to the side as if peering into a window. The metal appeared to be of infinite depth, small silver flecks of varying intensity and size were interspersed throughout the vastness, as if looking at the stars in the expanse of deep space.
Defenders of Destiny, book one, the Discovery of Astrolaris Page 2
