by Dan Holt
KEEPSAKE
Dan Holt
MaxHoltMedia
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1 BUCK ANDERSON
CHAPTER 2 THE PROMISE
CHAPTER 3 THE GIFT
CHAPTER 4 THE LETTER
CHAPTER 5 THE UFO MUSEUM
CHAPTER 6 COORDINATES
CHAPTER 7 THE OASIS
CHAPTER 8 ELIZABETH RAINWATER
CHAPTER 9 THE CODER
CHAPTER 10 HOUSTON
CHAPTER 11 AGENT STOCKTON
CHAPTER 12 THE ENTOMOLOGIST
CHAPTER 13 THE HUNT
CHAPTER 14 CONTACT
CHAPTER 15 THE OASIS
CHAPTER 16 RESCUE
CHAPTER 17 DANA CARAY
CHAPTER 18 EMPTY PRISON
CHAPTER 19 HOMEWARD BOUND
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
A Research Ship 4,000 miles across, like a planet turned inside out, was dispatched to survey the Orion Spur, an arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. It picked up a fission hot spot; a telltale sign of a developing civilization, through its space fabric sensors. The vessel dispatched two crafts; each with an instructor and a crew of four selected from the hundreds of students assigned to the information-gathering mission.
All crewmembers were supplied with safety devices that, when activated, would generate a field that would bend light rays around the student creating a bubble of invisibility. A secondary function of the safety device was as a Locator Beacon. Upon insertion of a small sphere supplied to each student, the unit would transmit the student's location to the Research Ship, facilitating rescue. The safety devices were fitted around the waist of each student and could not be removed until they returned safely to the Research Ship. Each sphere was electronically tuned to its own safety device. Were a sphere to be separated from its unit it would automatically activate a proximity function. In the event of a mishap, the student would insert the sphere into the unit and wait for rescue.
The two shuttles that were dispatched to investigate the discovery would be loaded into a Transfer Ship, a sphere-shaped vessel 300 feet in diameter that would proceed to the Solar System and locate the planet with the telltale signature, hold at a Lagrange Point, and launch the shuttles. The launch point was located 195,505 miles from the third planet and 43,495 miles from its single moon.
The shuttles were launched but were never heard from again.
Until....
Cha
pter 1
BUCK ANDERSON
Roswell, New Mexico
Wednesday July 5, 1947 – 4:45 a.m.
“Formation – on the double!”
Private First Class Buck Anderson snapped awake at the sound of the Duty Sergeant’s voice. Buck jumped to his feet and dressed. He quickly buffed the toes of his boots with yesterday’s socks. In three minutes, he went outside to the barren ground in front of the barracks. The fourth man to exit the door he quickly assumed his spot in the squad lineup; third man from the left. A few minutes later, the entire twelve-man squad was in place.
Buck, standing at rigid attention, saw a jeep skid to a stop fifty feet away, in front of the fourth platoon, second squad. A Captain stepped out of the vehicle and hurried to the squad leader’s side, spoke to him quietly, then returned to the jeep and it sped away. The squad leader faced his troops.
“Squad, you will visit the mess hall then report to the Motor Pool at 0600 – dismissed.”
Buck entered the mess hall, pulled off his fatigue cap, tucked it under his belt, and advanced through the line.
“What happened?” he asked the cook as he held his tray out for toast with sausage gravy.
“I don’t know,” the cook replied. “The Mess Sergeant put us on duty an hour early. He didn’t give us a reason.” Buck finished half the food, dumped the rest in the large garbage can, set the tray on the stainless steel table, and headed for the Motor Pool. The Platoon Sergeant was waiting beside a deuce-and-a-half truck. The squad was ordered to get in the back.
The truck lunged forward, headed north through the city, and then turned left on a blacktop road. They were headed west. A mile down the road Buck saw a highway sign: Hwy 48. He heard the whine of the dual wheels of the two-and-a-half-ton vehicle on the road as he watched the cactus and sagebrush pass by in the distance.
“Pine Lodge Road,” he whispered to himself, “that goes by Boy Scout Mountain in the Lincoln National Forest. What happened; plane crash or something?” The truck slowed then made a left turn onto a dirt road. The driver proceeded several minutes, then stopped the vehicle and engaged the front axle, powering all three axles of the heavy vehicle. He then took a left turn off the road and drove cross country. Buck watched the bushes and small trees pop up behind the truck as they passed under it. Buck and his comrades were jostled around as the powerful vehicle made progress. Half an hour later, the truck stopped and the driver killed the engine. An officer appeared behind the truck, a face Buck hadn’t seen before, and barked orders to the squad.
“Men, out of the truck; let’s move!” The squad scrambled out of the truck, lined up in formation, and came to attention. The officer scanned the squad from side to side then spoke with the voice of authority.
“Gentlemen, where you are and what you are doing is classified. You will not talk among yourselves nor discuss it with anyone else. Is that clear?” There were random “yes sirs” from the squad. The officer repeated with intensity: “Is that clear!” The squad redressed the position of attention and shouted in unison: “Yes Sir!”
The officer stood for a moment and eyed the men and then started walking around to the front of the truck. “Follow me.” Buck and the rest of the squad followed, stepping over limbs, ducking under branches, walking on the rocky uneven terrain covered in pine needles, until they topped a small hill. The officer stopped. Buck stopped and looked at the scene down the gentle slope. There was a swath cut through the trees sloping down from the north. At the end of it was a huge rock the size of an automobile, cracked in half. Leaning up on it at a forty-five-degree angle was a disc-shaped craft about twenty-five feet in diameter. It was bronze and silver in color and had a hole in the side of it about four feet wide.
An officer inside the disc was handing a small body to another officer on the ground. It looked like a midget with a swollen head and a frail body. There were three others lying on the ground on a blanket with a circle of officers standing around them. There were shiny bits of metal lying on the ground all around the disc and some lodged in the trees. A sergeant approached the squad and handed each of them a cloth bag.
“Pick up everything here that’s not rocks, leaves, or pine needles.” Buck took the cloth bag and looked down at the bits of shiny material and then back up at the sergeant. He was walking back toward the disc. Buck and his follow soldiers began picking up the material and placing it in the cloth bags. It was a tedious job picking the small pieces out of the grass and weeds; pieces quarter-sized and smaller. Soon, Buck came to a larger piece about four-by-twelve inches. It was bronze colored and lodged partially in the ground. He pulled it out of the ground and worked it into the bag. A smoky black-colored sphere, the size of a golf ball, rolled up between his feet. He glanced around; everyone was busy. He picked up the sphere and paused. He felt no weight. He held it two inches from the ground and released it. It slowly floated to the ground between his boots. It appeared to be metal. He made a decision; he held the cloth bag close to his person and then slipped the black ball into the bloused fold of his fatigue pants at the top of his boot.
He glanced toward the saucer. There was a sergeant leaning up against it talking to another sergeant. The little people, the blanket, and the officers, all were gone. He quickly resumed the chore of gathering the wreckage and baggi
ng it along with the rest of the squad.
Cha
pter 2
THE PROMISE
Arlington, Texas
June 15th, 1985—2:30 a.m.
Raymond and Kathleen Stevens were awakened by the incessant ringing of the bedside phone. Ray turned on the lamp and picked up the receiver. He listened for a moment, and then handed it to Kathleen. “It’s your sister, Marie.”
Kathleen put the phone to her ear. “Marie, what is it?” Kathleen listened for several moments then spoke into the phone. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.” She handed the phone back to Ray and got out of bed. Ray followed. He knew it was what they had been expecting for some time. Her father’s health had been slowly deteriorating since her mother passed away two years earlier. He was sixty years old but looked and walked much older.
“We have to go to Wichita Falls right away,” Kathleen said with a strain in her voice. “Dad’s had a heart attack. Marie said the doctors told her to notify the family.”
“I’ll wake up Brandon,” Ray said. “You better pack a bag.” Kathleen nodded and pulled a suitcase from the closet.
Ray tapped on Brandon’s door and opened it, went in, and turned on the overhead light. Brandon didn’t stir. He was rolled up in the covers until only his face showed.
“Brandon, wake up,” Ray said as he stepped over to his twelve-year-old son’s bed. Ray grasped his shoulders and shook him gently. “Son, wake up,” he repeated. Brandon moaned and opened his eyes, then looked up at his father. He cleared his throat, looked at the clock, then raised his head and stared at it. He looked at his father again and blinked the question.
“Get up and get dressed, son,” Ray said, “Your grandfather’s in the hospital. We have to go to Wichita Falls tonight.” Ray went back to his and Kathleen’s bedroom and dressed.
Brandon Lee Stevens sat up for a moment and then unwrapped himself from the bedclothes. He slipped on his pants and went to the living room just as his mother came out of the bedroom. She glanced at him.
“Finish dressing, Bandon, we’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
“What happened, Mom?”
His mother stopped and walked up to Brandon and hugged him. “Your grandfather’s had a heart attack and we have to go to the hospital right away.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“We don’t know. You’d better pack a change of clothes.” Brandon nodded and returned to his room, finished dressing, and got his clothes. When he returned to the living room, the front door was open and his father was carrying a suitcase to the car. Brandon followed him and put his bag in too. The sound of tree frogs filled the dark night. In the distance, he could hear the occasional sounds of the city. The only lighting was a streetlight a half-block away and the splash of light from the open door of the house. Brandon shivered. He went back to his room and got his jacket.
Wichita Falls, Texas
The Sun was just peeping over the horizon when they drove into the parking lot of the Wichita General Hospital. Brandon awakened with a start when the car stopped. He raised up and looked out the window at the scattered array of automobiles in the spacious parking lot, then looked toward the main building. He rubbed the side of his head where it had lain against the car door for the past two hours. He got out of the car and followed his mom and dad to the hospital Emergency Room entrance. They went inside and paused in the hall. His mother stepped over to the information desk and then returned.
“He’s on the third floor in intensive care.” Brandon watched his father put his arm around his mother as they started toward the elevators. He followed.
When the elevator doors opened on the third floor Brandon saw Sandra and Cheryl, his cousins, sitting in the waiting room. Cheryl, fourteen years old, was reading a book. Sandra, twelve, looked up when the elevator doors opened. Aunt Marie, his mother’s sister, was talking with the Minister of the church where Grandpa was a member. When Brandon’s mother walked into the waiting area his aunt Marie came over and hugged her and they began talking. Brandon went over to a chair by his cousin Sandra and sat down. He looked over at her.
“How long have you guys been here?”
“Since one this morning. Grandpa had a heart attack.”
“I know,” Brandon said. “Mom and Dad told me.”
“He’s real old,” Cheryl said.
“Sixty is not real old,” Brandon said. Cheryl frowned and went back to reading her book.
Marie led the way down the hall to the Nurse’s Station, spoke quietly to the nurse and then went back to the waiting room. The nurse stood and escorted Kathleen and Ray to her father’s room.
“One moment,” she said at the door. She stepped into Buck Anderson’s room, after a moment she reappeared. “You can go in now.”
Kathleen stepped into the room quietly. Ray followed. Her father was lying on his back with his eyes closed. She laid her hand on his arm. He stirred, opened his eyes, looked at Kathleen and smiled. He then glanced at Ray and nodded. Ray took his hand and shook it gently.
“Kate,” Buck said, “you’re here. Is Brandon with you?”
“Yes, he is,” Kathleen said, wiping her eyes. Buck glanced at Ray then back to Kathleen.
“Kathleen, I need to talk to you for a moment.”
Ray leaned forward and touched her father’s hand, nodded, and looked at Kathleen. “I’ll be in the waiting room,” he said quietly and then left the room and closed the door.
Kathleen looked at her father expectantly. He smiled and placed his left hand on top of hers. “There’s something very important I want to tell you. You probably know I won’t be leaving here. I don’t have very long.”
“Daddy, don’t say that.”
“Listen to me. Your mother has been gone for over a year and now my time is here.” Kathleen blinked moist eyes and listened. Her father took a breath.
“There’s something I want you to do for me. You know that trunk in the hall closet that goes to you when I’m gone?”
“Yes, I know.”
“Inside it there’s a metal box. I want you to put it away and keep it. Then, when Brandon turns twenty-five, give it to him.”
Kathleen nodded. “What is it?”
“It’s a key to a safety deposit box. The address of the bank is in the box. In the safety deposit box there’s a Keepsake that I want him to have when he’s a man. Promise me that you will keep this to yourself until Brandon is twenty-five. Then I want you to give it to him.”
Kathleen blinked and nodded.
“Promise me,” Buck Anderson said lifting his head. Kathleen held her father’s eyes for a moment.
“I promise, Daddy,” she said.
Buck Anderson grimaced in pain….
Cha
pter 3
THE GIFT
Houston, Texas
Brandon Lee Stevens pulled the thumbtack out of the wall and tossed the spent calendar into the trashcan. Glancing around the desktop, he located the letter opener, picked it up, and punctured the plastic wrap on the new one. Removing the wrap, he held it up and looked at it. At the top, in crisp early American style, the numbers read 1998. Just below it covering the top half of the calendar was an artist rendition of a sleek nineteen ninety-eight Ford Taurus, bright red. He inserted the thumb tack through the small hole provided, then located it in the same spot, and pushed the tack in firmly.
Brandon, still a little foggy from the New Year’s Eve party, stood and went into the kitchen to refill his coffee. Audrina was up and pouring herself a cup.
“Good morning, Sweetheart,” he said as he slid his arm around her waist. She moaned and leaned into him. “Some party, eh?” he added.
“Yeah,” she said and took a sip of coffee. Brandon picked up the morning paper and Audrina picked up the remote and turned on the TV.
Brandon, six-foot-one, a hundred and eighty pounds, light brown hair and dark brown eyes, a graduate of the University of Texas at Arlington, was in his second year with the Hou
ston Robotics Development Company. His training in computer science, specializing in robotics, won him a position at the Houston-based company. Audrina, Brandon’s find at a college party, five-foot-seven, a hundred and thirty pounds, brunette with brown eyes, became his wife upon graduation. Audrina was in her second year with Motion Tech Industries, specializing in microelectronics.
Brandon and Audrina, a year earlier, purchased an older place on 5 aces in the country and were enjoying renovating it.
Brandon had finished the paper and joined Audrina watching the New Year’s Day parade when the phone rang. Brandon picked it up.
“Brandon,” he heard his mother say.
“Hi, Mom, happy New Year.” Brandon listened as his mother reminded him that this was the year that he would spend his birthday at home with her. She had reminded him every year of the twenty-fifth birthday, to be spent at her house, since he was twelve.
“I remember, Mom,” Brandon said. “I’ll be there on June 2, the day I turn twenty-five, I promise.” Brandon talked with his mother for a few minutes. Then his father came on the line and they talked. When his mother came back on the line, he handed the phone to Audrina and she and his mother talked at length.
Brandon thought about his mother’s request; the request she had reminded him of every year on his birthday. It was so important to her that he remember. He’d quizzed her about it. Why his twenty-fifth birthday? She said it was a promise she had made to her father; his grandfather. When talking with her about it there was something in her eyes and voice that made him respect it. This year he would know. He would be twenty-five in June; June 2. He and Audrina had coined theories on what it might be. The intrigue was tantalizing. Audrina was wonderful. She and his mother had hit it off and visited on the phone often. Audrina had never attempted to pry into the sacred ground of birthday number twenty-five. Audrina was protecting the mystery—and enjoying it.