“‘Keep going. Just follow my mom,’ I urge, and nudge her forward. She resumes running. At the end of the corridor, we pass through the military steel doorway and into what my uncle named the ‘Command Center.’ Its twenty-by-twenty-foot interior is a clutter of shelves, cabinets, desks with computers, and an array of monitors on the wall beyond the computers. It might look like a grade B military movie set with off-the-shelf furnishings but its function is streamlined, efficient and modern.
“The polished concrete floor, smoothed and stained dark brown, feels rich against the plain ten-foot-high gray concrete block walls that recede behind the clutter. The pre-stressed concrete T-bars composing the ceiling of the room are obscured by the glow of the ceiling-mounted LED lighting fixtures.
“Twizzle is seated at her computer, powering it up. I drop into my assigned seat and hit the power button on my computer. My dad and uncle have taken their places in front of their respective computers. Soliloquy is silent, awed as our family moves into our practiced roles. She bends over me and whispers, ‘Are you all some sort of sleeper cell or something? What is this?’ There’s anxiety in her voice.
“What she’s seeing is the result of my uncle’s paranoia about living out in the middle of what he calls “bum fork nowhere,” just north of the Mexican border in the Southern California desert. Amazingly, the corridor we just ran through and the room we’re in were built by my parents and my uncle, alone—no laborers, no contractors, no help at all. No one knows about the Command Center except my family...and now Soliloquy. It’s part of a labyrinth of caves and tunnels that riddle the area under the farm. Everything of importance is housed down here. Replaceable stuff is kept in the house above.
“Going underground was my uncle’s obsession, and he bankrolled the project. This was after he and my parents came back one evening from exploring the myriad tunnels down in the ice caves—which, for the record, have no ice in them. My parents and uncle spent many a late night in muffled conversation after the decision to go underground was made.
“First, the above-ground work began. There was endless demolition, digging, trenching, and construction, stretching from the farmhouse to the periphery of our ownership. After about two years of that, all the crews disappeared, and only my dad and my uncle continued with the final details, part of which was the Command Center. The final step was outfitting the Command Center in preparation for—well, God knows what. Armageddon, maybe? Invasion by the Russians or Chinese? A zombie apocalypse? I never knew at the time.
“What Soliloquy is witnessing is the result of drills my family has practiced many times in the past. Everyone knows their roles and places. My mom leads the whole thing, calling out to us for feedback as our computers launch and we tie into our own little internal Web.
“‘Number two cam and mic operable,’ Twizzle yells. ‘Number three cam and mic powering up. Garage doors and eyes operating. Barn doors closing. Distillery doors sealed and locked.’
“‘Sky cameras three and four focused on the clouds above,’ my dad yells.
“‘I’m throwing it up on the big screen,’ my uncle says.
“I notice my mom has taken Soliloquy by the hand and led her to what is my mom’s chair at the center of the computer and monitor array. She hands her a cloth to wipe the blood from her face and says, ‘Just relax here for a moment, honey. I know this is a bit strange to you right now, but we’ll explain when we get a chance. Can I get you anything to drink, some soda or juice?’ I hear the door of the small refrigerator next to her chair open and close, and then the phssst sound of a soda can being opened. I look back and see a dazed Soliloquy taking the can. She’s a bit overwhelmed, I guess. Who wouldn’t be?
“‘Just sit tight, honey, and we’ll explain it all,’ my mom says in a gentle voice. Then she’s back to her role as Supreme Commander, barking out orders to my family.
“On the two big screens in front of us, the clouds above the farm are a bruised purple, blue, and black. The web of lightning around it, alive and threatening, has intensified, and the fiery orange and red charges have grown in size. Once again, the bitter ferment pulses outward, and you know another shock wave is about to strike the farm above us.
“When it hits, everything shakes, and there is a muffled boom from above while the above-ground mics broadcast the explosion via headsets we wear.
“‘Bring up ground cams one and two,’ my mom barks. The big screen on the left shows the barn flattened and ruined. The other screen displays only static.
“‘Bring up three and four,’ my mom orders. On the left screen, we are now looking at the farm complex from its perimeter. The other still shows static.
“‘Damn!’ my dad swears under his breath. Every building on the farm has been flattened. The agave crops are pummeled to the ground; completely destroyed.
“‘Switch to mountain cams A and B,’ my mom commands. They show the farm, immediate land around it, and the cloud pandemonium boiling and flashing in a lather above.
“‘It’s hovering right over the farm,’ my uncle observes.
“The commotion above pulses again, and a few seconds later we are struck by another wave. The whole room shudders. The lights blink off, then on, then off again. Only the computer monitors’ glow illuminates the room. I hear Soliloquy suck in air.
“‘Switch lights to power source number two,’ my mom orders.
“‘Local one through six dead,’ my uncle says. ‘Mountain cams still operable. Peripheral cams three and four dead. One, two, and five operable...oops. Make that inoperable. They just went blank.’
“‘Direct mountain cam A on the center of that cloud. Keep B on the overall,’ my mom orders.
“A bright light illuminates the clouds from inside. The lightning intensifies, and the entire mass pulses out with new savageness. Lightning arcs from the clouds, down to the earth below. Moments later, the whole room feels like it’s shoved down a full foot. Equipment crashes to the floor. Someone yelps. My dad curses.
“My mom commands us, ‘We need to abandon this and head to Middle Earth. Twizzle and Forbes, lead the way. Messenger and Soliloquy, follow. We’ll be right behind as soon as we close up shop here.’
“I jump up from my console and motion for Soliloquy to follow me. Twizzle and Forbes have already disappeared into the corridor at the opposite end of the room, which leads into the ice caves below.
“The pathway is part natural and part man-made. The floor is paved in concrete and follows the natural downward slope of the tunnel. Bare light bulbs are strung along the ceiling to illuminate the passageway. Thick electrical cables run along the walls, and the air is cool with an odor of humid earth. It has the feel of an abandoned mining shaft.
“After a minute, we hit concrete steps and quickly sprint down to arrive at a naturally occurring tunnel that takes us to a cave with a twenty-foot ceiling. The area inside the cave is bathed in battery-powered light. Boxes and crates of all sizes pepper parts of the room. Another set of tables with computers and monitors occupies one corner.
“Twizzle and Forbes have already taken their seats and are powering up their computers. I grab a spare chair, drag it next to mine, and pat the seat for Soliloquy. ‘Here,’ I say to her.
“Without waiting for her response, I plop down and power up my machine. I feel her presence when she sits down. I don’t talk, and neither does she. In the background, I hear my parents and uncle coming into the room. Once everyone is in position, four projector screens drop down from their tubes above the computer area. Images from the mountain cams fill their blank screens. At the center of the clouds directly above the farm, the lightning is coalescing into a solid white ball and growing.
“My dad and uncle lock eyes. ‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’ my dad asks.
“‘It’s going to blow,’ my uncle guesses.
“‘You think we’re deep enough?’ My mom’s voice is tight.
“My dad offers, ‘We can only hope...’
“Then a
ll the screens go white. The ground shakes, and dirt and debris fall from the ceiling. Twizzle screams. My dad and uncle both grunt. I curse. Soliloquy whimpers. And my mom and Forbes are dead silent.
“‘Replacement cameras,’ my mom orders. A full minute later, the mountain cams show the devastation. What had been the farm is now just smoke and three huge whirlwinds scouring the ground through the haze.
“All my dad can say is, ‘Mother of God.’
“‘Flattened, torched and now scrubbed,’ my uncle adds.
“Soliloquy finally speaks. ‘What are those? What are they doing? Why is this happening?’ Her voice is high-strung and emotional. Those are my thoughts, exactly. I am as clueless as she.
“My mother walks over to her, bends down, and whispers into her ear. After a moment, Soliloquy relaxes. My mom squeezes Soliloquy’s shoulder and then returns to her position behind us all.
“Below the clouds, which have turned a uniform gray, are three enormous vessels, triangular and hovering in place. Their monolithic surfaces and coloring blend in with the clouds to such a degree that they almost disappear, not unlike a rattler among rocks on the desert floor.
“‘They’re he-eere,’ my brother sing-songs, like the little girl from the Poltergeist movie.
“‘Indeed they are,’ my mom confirms.
“‘Wiped the farm right off the face of the Earth,’ my dad laments. “But our preparation saved us. We’d be history right now if not for that.”
“‘Amen to that,’ my uncle agrees.
“My little brother is making pow! pow! sounds, his hand turned into an imaginary gun, his index finger aimed at the screen.
“‘At least we have Forbes to protect us,’ Twizzle comments dryly.
“From my point of view, Twizzle and Forbes seem to be taking this pretty calmly. Maybe Forbes just doesn’t get it, but Twizzle surprises me.
“I am as freaked out as Soliloquy, while these two act like it’s still a routine practice drill. It seems like they should be more excited or scared. Maybe Twizzle’s just hiding it better than I am. Maybe it’s all the preparation. For my part, I don’t feel at all ready for what I’m seeing on the screen.
“As we watch, the three triangles begin to descend.
“‘Are you noticing where the apex of their formation appears to be?’ my dad asks.
“‘Above the mothership, I think,’ my uncle responds. ‘We guessed right.’
“Now I’m really freaked out. I think to myself, Mothership? This is the first I’ve ever heard of a mothership. ‘Dad, Uncle Ted, what are you talking about? What mothership?’
“My dad looks at my uncle, then at my mom. ‘Maybe you should take the kids to the theater while we keep watch. They might as well know everything. No secrets now.’
“I think, Secrets? Mothership? Spaceships? Clouds from hell? The farm destroyed? Our home gone? This has to be some story my mom is going to tell us!
“She ushers us out of the storage room and into the theater, which is really a side cave decked out with a thick rug, beanbag chairs, and a big screen rolled up in its tube at the front with a projector console at the back. We take places on the rug and in the chairs while she slides into the control chair and goes to work on the keyboard. The screen unrolls, the projector turns on, and my dad’s big smiling face lights up the screen. He is laughing at some joke my uncle, who is holding the camera, has made. The camera pans out and up to reveal they are in a cave, and then it pans back to my smiling dad.
“‘You ready?’ he says to my uncle.
“‘Ready and recording,’ my uncle says.
“My dad starts addressing the camera. ‘What you are about to see is either A, the greatest hoax ever perpetrated on us naïve Americans, or B, maybe evidence that the Ruskies are way ahead of us in flight technology or C, maybe that the real Area 51 is...’
“‘Bob!’ my uncle chastises from behind the camera.
“‘Okay, okay, Ted,’ my dad relents, laughing. Then the smile vanishes and all play is gone from his voice. “What you are about to see is evidence of extraterrestrials that visited our planet a very long time ago.”
“Before the movie gets any further, there is a shudder in the cave, and the power is gone, pitching us into total blackness. I hear cursing coming from the room where my dad and uncle are, and then, just as suddenly, the power is back on. My mom fiddles with the projector, and once again, my dad’s face fills the screen and he continues. ‘Below the desert floor, deep in what people have called the ice caves for the last fifty years or so, lies evidence of intelligent life other than humans. What my brother and I stumbled onto is an alien craft buried deep inside one of the many caves. It would appear that we are the first members of the human race to find it, as we see no evidence that early Indians, or anyone before or after, was here prior to us.
“‘Where Ted and I are about to take you is down to what appears to be the entry to the craft. Remarkably, it was open when we first encountered it. We were able to go inside.’ He draws his hand across his throat to ‘cut,’ and the camera lens swings toward the ceiling and goes blank. Abruptly, my dad’s face fills the screen again.
“‘We are standing at the entry to the craft. We had to hike down to this location for the last forty minutes or so, traversing almost impassable small areas, walking over a rope bridge we made across a bottomless chasm...’
“From off camera, my uncle’s voice comes. ‘Oh, exaggeration here we go. It was only thirty feet or so to the bottom, but...’
“‘Okay, whatever, but it was deep. Anyway, we made our way across and to the spot where we currently stand.’ He steps out of view to reveal what is behind him. From off camera, he continues, ‘What you are looking at is the open entry to the craft we have determined was not built by humans.’ The camera pans over the opening that is presumably lit by lights my dad and uncle have brought with them. Then my dad steps back in front of the camera and says, ‘Follow me.’ He climbs up into the opening, with my uncle and the camera close on his heels.
“The power on the projector fails and the screen goes blank.
“‘Noooo!’ Twizzle and Forbes chime together.
“‘What happens next?’ Twizzle asks.
“‘We want to see!’ Forbes adds.
“My mother curses under her breath and turns to the projector to fix the problem. While she labors, Twizzle showers her with questions my mom ignores. Seeing she is getting nowhere, Twizzle directs her attention to me and says, ‘So, this is where we find out we are all aliens and Mom is the queen alien, which would make me the princess alien.’
“‘Oh, you’ve got the princess part down,’ I say. She flips me off. I look over to Soliloquy, who is silently staring straight ahead at the blank screen. ‘You okay?’ I ask, touching her arm.
“She slowly shakes her head from side to side.
“I know what she means. In just a few hours, our lives have gone from normal summer water games to demon clouds with alien space craft and farm annihilation. Not to mention the loss of her only means of transportation, her grandma’s Honda Civic. This has got to be tough for her.
“‘Look, we can get you a new car when this is all done,’ I say like an idiot, thinking that will make it all better. She slowly turns to me and stares in disbelief. Immediately, I am full of regret, wondering how I could say something so stupid. ‘I’m sorry, Soliloquy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that...’
“She places her index finger on my lips to silence me. I stifle myself and make no further attempt at communication. I am clearly out of my realm at the moment.
“‘Hobbit Hole?’ she asks, tilting her head and giving me a ‘Are you serious?’ look. A half-smile curls the corner of her mouth. I realize she is back to the beginning of our escape to underground safety. Okay, I can deal with that. Maybe that is the best place to start.
“‘The shape of the door reminded my mom of the door in the Hobbit movie,’ I tell her.
“She nods in understanding. ‘I see
, yes, it did sort of look like that door.’ I see she is gaining composure. ‘And the room we first went into with all the computers and screens?’
“‘Command Central. Where my parents remotely control everything, like the distillery and the underground tequila storage. It’s kind of a panic room for any emergency.’
“‘Like an alien invasion?’
“‘More like bad guys, bandits, or bands of illegal traffickers from across the border. We have drills every so often to check the equipment and keep us sharp in the event of a real thing. The thinking is we are out in the middle of nowhere, where police response can be an hour or more—too late by any real standards. It’s all defensive precautions.’
“Soliloquy is nodding her head in understanding. ‘And this section here?’
“‘A fallback if things go really bad.’
“She is back to shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Are you some kind of spy family or terror unit, and this is all an elaborate Russian conspiracy or something against the USA?’
“‘Soliloquy, the Cold War has been over for years.’
“‘Then what is it? And what is that movie that your mom started to show us?’
“I shake my head. ‘It’s news to me. Never seen it before.’
“My mother lets out a big sigh. ‘That’s all for the show-and-tell. It will have to be only tell from this point on.’ Twizzle and Forbes let out loud complaints. My mother gets up from her chair, walks to the screen, turns, faces us, and then flashes a smile. The stage is hers.
“‘I’m going to tell you a story we’ve kept hidden for many years, a story that will help you understand the three aircraft you’ve seen above us. After we bought this agave farm and the ice caves under it, your father and uncle started exploring the caves beyond what had been just the tourist attraction. They eventually discovered an alien craft deep below, tucked inside a large cave. How long it had been there and how it got there are undetermined, but it is empty of its original inhabitants. It is an abandoned entity.’
Aliens, Tequila & Us: The complete series Page 4