Event: A Novel

by David L. Golemon

  “So, that means they will not delay in moving on Earth.”

  “We notified the president. This time I think we’ll let someone else do the fighting. We lost a lot of good friends this time around.

  “There is one more thing,” Virginia said.

  Niles was puzzled. “Yes?”

  “You’re not going to like it, I know I didn’t,” she said, looking at her feet. “We did the blood workup on Matchstick.” She frowned and couldn’t look anyone in the eyes. “He has the start of the same symptoms, but I think we can help him. You see, Matchstick is very young in his years, he’ll fight this off, but the rest of his race, if they stay in their current environmental conditions, they’ll die.”

  Silence greeted her comment. Jack looked away and over to the monitor where there was a still shot of Matchstick smiling up at Boris and Natasha.

  “You mean to tell me that the Green species were willing to die out instead of taking the easy way out and siding with the Grays?” Jack asked while still looking up at the screen.

  “Hard thing to try and live up to, isn’t it?” Lee asked no one in particular.

  “At least Gus and Matchstick won’t want for anything,” Alice said, finally forcing a smile.

  “Yes, Gus and his friends are about to become very well-off,” Lee said, smiling. “Imagine, the Lost Dutchman Mine, we should have known it was real. There’s a lesson to be learned there.” He shook his finger. “No matter how ridiculous the myth, they always have a basis in fact, always. It seems we forgot that for a while. This was a nice way to be reminded,” Lee said, looking back at the screen as he took Alice by the hand.

  “Yes, they are going to be very well-off,” Niles said absently.

  “Just like you kids will be well-off without the likes of me bitching all day. Niles, call me from time to time just to say hi to an old man, and let me know how that new head of security is doing tracking down our Colonel Farbeaux now that his immunity is at an end,” Lee said, looking at Jack and winking his one good eye. “And by the way, Alice is taking the rest of the month off.”

  Without a word, Senator Garrison Lee left the Event Center for the last time, placing his arm around Alice. She smiled like a coquette, looking back at the others as she placed her arm around Lee’s waist.

  Collins and Niles returned her happy smile as they watched the couple leave.

  The major was off the next day. He, Virginia Pollock, and Everett were flying to MIT and from there to New York University for interviews for replacement personnel for those lost. From there Jack would meet up with a field team and fly to the University of Washington to investigate a diary from a man who had supposedly escaped from Custer’s regiment at the Little Big Horn.

  On his way out of the Computer Center, Jack ran into Specialist Fifth Class Sarah McIntire, soon to be promoted to second lieutenant. As he stood and looked at her, they both heard through the closing Computer Center door, “Alright, boys and girls, let’s retask Boris and Natasha and see if we can get some film on this lost Inca city! And someone get Sir Basil on the phone at the Royal Geographic Society in London and tell him we’ll return the remains of King Arthur, in exchange for a year’s worth of study on that Roman execution order for Jesus of Nazareth.” Niles was now in his element and happy.

  On the screen, with Frank Sinatra still crooning away, the picture of the four people and one alien dimmed, then was gone.

  “Well, Specialist,” Jack said, “I can’t officially ask you to dinner until you’re an officer, but would you like to bump into each other at Gino’s Spaghetti House later tonight?”

  Sarah looked at the major’s blue eyes and then looked around her to make sure no one was near.

  “I think I would like that…” She hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Jack.”

  As she turned and walked away, Collins smiled and watched her a moment, then looked around him at the clean, plastic-lined walls outside the Computer Center and knew he was now at home at the Event Group.

  Read on for an excerpt from the next novel by

  DAVID LYNN GOLEMON

  LEGEND

  NOW AVAILABLE FROM ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS

  “A quest for the riches of the earth brought them to the waters of legend and the greed of man came and destroyed the way of innocence, and the ancient one rose from the depths to consume them.”

  — FATHER ESCOBAR CORINTH

  CATHOLIC PRIEST TO THE

  FRANCISCO PIZARRO EXPEDITIONS

  Amazonian river basin,

  Summer, 1534 A. D., 56 days out of Peru

  The survivors of his once proud and now cursed expedition were holed up in a large green basin that was fed water by the large and very deep tributary of the Amazon, at least ten leagues from the site of last night’s massacre. The large lagoon, which for all practical description was much more like a small lake, lay before them. They had waded along the shore of the tributary, following the treacherous rapids to gain entrance into this hidden Eden that had trees so tall they stretched away and over the dark waters.

  It was something Captain Padilla had never thought to see in his lifetime. Beautiful as it was, it was not the kind of place one would choose to conduct a massacre of the small people if they chose to attack them here. It truly was a place God had sculpted when last upon this earth. Tree branches hung out over the water and soft grasses grew all the way to the slow-flowing lagoon. The walls of what had to be an ancient and extinct volcano rose on three sides, actually leaning out over the lagoon, creating three natural shelves.

  Flowers of every variety bloomed and nourished honeybees that gently moved from species to species, never noticing or caring about the sudden invasion by the Spaniards. The strange flowers that grew with only small dapples of sunlight were large and the most fragrant Padilla had ever smelled.

  The ancient volcanic bowl was not only fed by the Amazon tributary but also by a mammoth waterfall that fell from high above on the far end of the large lagoon. But that was not the outstanding feature of the small valley. There, flanking either side of the tumbling waters of the falls, were pillars. They were at least a hundred and twenty feet high and carved from the surrounding rock, and they supported an arch that vanished into the white waterfall of the river above. Vines coursed through the cracked and weatherworn pillars and in several places had separated the stone completely, making them look as if they would fall at any moment.

  Now here he stood, trying to decide if he should make their last stand or continue the insanity of running deeper into the green hell beyond the lagoon. The men knew there might be something here because of those giant pillars, but they had lost all interest in riches and just wanted familiar sights, even Pizarro was preferable to this madness.

  Maybe the villagers would take the decision out of his hands and just leave them be, allowing them to go back and skirt the village to the north or south on their trek back into Peru. He would then personally report to the fool Pizarro that the expedition had been for naught, there was nothing but death waiting for any man in the distant valleys of the Amazon.

  While he wrote his thoughts down in his personal diary, the map he had made of their travels fell from the back pages where he had placed it. As he bent over to retrieve it, he hesitated momentarily as he was suddenly tempted to leave it to rot on the ground. Then he considered his men and picked it up and placed it back into his journal.

  His thoughts of leaving the map so no one could follow were broken by the harsh laughing of the very man who had caused so much horror in the last twelve hours. Such laughter after the spilling of so much blood seemed wrong. The captain looked over at his men. Joaquin Suarez was kneeling by the water with his hair freshly wet after washing the blood from himself and his armor. The soldiers around him looked on and shook their heads, all knowing this man was a danger to them all with his recklessness.

  Padilla reached down and retrieved his helmet and that was when he caught a glimpse of a strange visitor to their makeshift res
t area. The huge eyes were there for the briefest of moments before whatever it was scurried off through the thick foliage, using it as cover as it slid silently into the waters of the lagoon. Captain Padilla looked around to see if his men had seen the strange little creature, but they were busy washing and lying on the thickly carpeted grass; some of the more experienced soldiers were even knelt in prayer. He once again peered into the thick undergrowth for some sign that the little creature had been there at all, but there was not a trace. He quickly came to the conclusion that it had been nothing but a trick of his overtaxed mind and the darkened jungle floor. Suddenly there was a rustling of bushes behind him and his hand went to his sword.

  “My Captain.” Ivan Rodrigo Torres, his friend and second-in-command, stepped from the dense growth of the forest. “The Indians have disappeared.” He removed his helmet and his long black hair fell free as sweat poured from his face and beard. “One minute we were watching them from a clearing about half a league from here and the next minute they fell back into the jungle and were gone. Our trail into this valley was so obvious they must know where we are.” He took a breath and looked around him as he loosened his armor. “I expect them to double back this way, so I placed the men in an excellent position for ambush, but thus far they haven’t come.”

  Padilla patted his old friend on the shoulder. “That is just as well, I can’t do this any longer.” He lowered his hand and looked around at the darkened area under the thick canopy of trees. “I just feel like resting here for a month before returning and reporting this horrible thing we have done.” He pulled the front collar of his armor away from his soaked tunic. “Maybe I’ll swim out to the only spot here that has sunlight hitting it and remain there until the Lord pulls me under.” He looked at the magnificent waterfall and then back toward the center of the large lagoon and the bright dapples of sunlight that lit the blue waters and made them sparkle.

  “I, like most of the men, feel like cutting Suarez’s throat for bringing this evil to our doorstep,” Torrez said angrily.

  “I can’t think on that now, my old friend, I am weary to my very bones. Besides, in the end, it is I who will be judged for this debacle, not Suarez.”

  “Surely Commander Pizarro will not blame you for the actions of this maniac?”

  “Pizarro is not an ordinary man and he has little or no patience for incompetence. I can assure you I will be judged harshly for losing his nephew and a chance at finding the Sincaro gold source.” He looked at Torrez and smiled. “For my failure the Sincaro will be extinct or enslaved by this time next year,” he sighed. “I had the arrogance to believe I could do this another way, I am but a fool.”

  Loud laughter once again sprang up from the beach area. As both officers turned and walked toward their men, another round of loud and raucous howling came from the lagoon. Upon entering the small clearing, they saw Suarez holding something in the air as the other soldiers hooted loudly, several even patting each other on their backs. As they looked closer at the strange object the soldier was tossing into the air, they saw it resembled a small monkey. Then Padilla realized it was the same creature he; had spied looking at him from the bush only moments before. The captain could clearly see the small animal and its remarkable resemblance to their chattering companions that lived in the trees. In his diary Padilla had listed many different varieties of monkey and other strange animal life, but this was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before in his many travels. On this expedition he had become quite knowledgeable on the far-ranging species that inhabited this new continent; thus the animal that Suarez held in his hands so casually was something he knew to be very special.

  “Captain, we have a captive, this little clown tried to steal my satchel with the last of our bread,” Rondo Cordoba, the quartermaster, said while gesturing toward the small creature Suarez was toying with.

  Padilla and Torrez joined the men, and both were amazed to see the small creature up close. It was a monkey, or what a monkey would look like without so much as a hair on its body. The facial features were close to that of a man, except for the lips. They framed many sharp teeth and were thick, with the upper lip much larger than the bottom and the ears were but small holes in the sides of its head. The tail was slick as a taskmaster’s whip, and it swung back and forth quickly as, Padilla surmised, it was agitated at being thrown into the air by Suarez. He saw small protrusions of skin, like a spiny sail, as it flared outward down its back every time it was tossed upwards.

  “Stop tormenting that creature, you ignorant fool!” Torrez commanded loudly.

  Suarez stopped, looked angrily for a moment at his captain and then at Torrez, and without removing his eyes from the two men, arrogantly tossed the small animal in the air again. He caught it and then concentrated his look on the captain in a silent challenge. Padilla drew his sword and pointed it at the larger man’s throat, pressing the blade enough so that blood was soon collecting on the steel blade. His eyes were locked on Suarez and a ghost of a smile touched his lips. He would enjoy sliding his sharp blade into the throat of the very reason for their current predicament, no matter if they needed all the men they could get at that moment.

  “As you can see, you fatherless child, our captain is of ill humor today,” Torrez said smiling, as he watched his captain and a seemingly unshaken Suarez.

  Suarez only ignored the sword and the neck wound and was still holding the animal tightly. He quickly changed his grip, now holding the choking animal by its throat. Its tail was now jittering in small movements that were more of a spasm.

  Padilla pressed the blade further into the man’s throat, and the arrogance that had been there a moment ago was quickly replaced by a worried frown. Suarez just then noticed there was no laughter from the men around him. He saw there were only looks of anticipation at his seemingly imminent death.

  All this time the animal’s eyes never left Padilla. It was as if the small creature knew it was the subject of the standoff and was awaiting the captain’s next move. Suarez slowly lowered the creature to the white sand that made up the small beach, and the monkey-like animal scurried not towards the jungle or the water, but behind the captain. The beast jumped up and down and spat at Suarez and jabbered as if cursing the large soldier. As Suarez straightened, Padilla pushed the gleaming sword forward, bringing a more satisfying flow of blood to the blade, where it rolled slowly down the shiny surface and dripped onto the few feet of pure white sand.

  “We may need this fool, Captain,” Ivan Torrez said loudly so all could hear. “We may still have him up on charges upon our return, but we need his strength to fight, or to flee from this place, and God willing, he may even redeem himself at some point in this nightmare.” He placed his hand on the captain’s arm, but gave Suarez a withering look.

  Padilla, without dropping his gaze, slowly lowered the sword and just as slowly wiped the blood from its tip onto the red sleeve of the big man, then he slowly slid the weapon back into the ornate scabbard at his side.

  The small creature was still holding onto the captain’s leg and hissing at Suarez as if cursing its antagonist. Padilla reached down and, using both hands, gently picked the animal up and looked it over. It was breathing through its small nostrils and open mouth, but it also had what looked like the gills of a fish right where the small neck joined the head, three rows of soft skin arranged along its jawline, flaring and then closing, as they too sought life-sustaining air. There were fin-like features along its forearms and a small spiny dorsal fin, again like a fish, on its back traveling the length of the animal’s spine. It had sharp clear claws arranged on its fingers, and the toes were like equipped. The tail wasn’t as smooth as he had first thought. It had small fish-type scales all the way to its tip where it suddenly flared and tapered to a paddle-like feature resembling a shark’s tailfin, and as Padilla watched, it swished through the air in what seemed a contented arc. The beast was as foul-smelling as a fish that had washed up on the shore.

  “This is th
e most amazing animal I have ever seen in all of our travels,” Padilla said softly, as the large black eyes of the creature blinked, not with eyelids like his own, but a set of clear membranes.

  “I think it looks like my mother-in-law,” Torrez shouted to the staring company as he slapped the captain on the back in an attempt to lighten the darkened mood.

  The men laughed, even Padilla smiled as he chanced a wary eye toward Suarez.

  “Captain, look!” one of the men shouted.

  Padilla lowered the small creature and looked to where his men were pointing toward the calm waters of the lagoon, as another of the small animals stood holding a struggling fish in both its clawed hands. The first animal scurried up to the newcomer, waddling bowlegged on its paddle-like feet, and started jabbering loudly. The animal looked on and then tossed the fish underarm toward the group of Spaniards. It landed on the sand and flopped around, then lay still, the small claw marks evident on the smooth skin of the large catfish.

  As they watched in amazement, another and then another of the animals exited the water, stepping up tentatively and tossing more flopping fish onto the small shoreline as the soldiers looked at each other and nervously laughed.

  “Maybe it’s an offering?” Rondo ventured to no one in particular.

  “Gather the fish, men, we will not waste this gift brought by our new friends,” Padilla ordered. “Collect them all so we can also feed the men who are guarding the perimeter.”