LOST AND FORGOTTEN: Book 2 The Secret Path

by Maurice Barkley

  Tired, but comfortable, I stepped out of the shower almost an hour later, ready for the bed that said luxury to me. This was a far cry from the sleeping arrangements of the past few months. I lay there quietly, my eyes closed, waiting for the sandman. I thought for a moment to call Jean, but I had no number so the thought drifted away. My friends were nearby. I could set my cares aside and forget the world for a time.

  The bright warble of the house phone woke me up. Sunlight was streaming through the east-facing window and a glance at my Ralex as I rolled out told me that it was seven o’clock. Ten minutes later, washed and dressed properly, I left my room. Alice’s door stood open so I walked in and joined the crowd.

  “Bite me,” Alice said to the phone, as she hung up. “The desk clerk jerk says the Director will meet us for breakfast in thirty minutes and that we should dress appropriately.”

  Before I left for the lunchroom, I put all of my clothing, except what I was wearing into the laundry cart by the door. I trusted that the efficient, if mostly invisible, staff would not mix it up with the others. I had a thought that it might not be a bad idea to have a rubber stamp made up to mark my stuff. The lunchroom was bright, airy and smelled deliciously of coffee, bacon, cinnamon and maple syrup.

  “We’ll start easy this morning,” the Director said, “then we’ll pick up the pace. I think you’ll find the food here very good. Order up.”

  The morning table talk was casual and the food was indeed, very good. After breakfast, the Director took us into the conference room where we met sixteen men and women who were a major part of the debriefing process. There were some high government officials included, but without their blue suit guardians. Everyone was friendly, courteous and busy. Their curiosity, both personal and professional was avid, but that was understandable.

  The President and his delightful wife visited us that first evening. We spent part of it in a small theatre watching an old James Cagney movie. Surprisingly, our Prime friends seemed to enjoy it even more than the Terrans. I called up a Three Stooges short and our alien friends laughed so hard I had to pause the movie several times.

  Each of us had to tell our story in minute detail from start to finish. When I finished telling my story for the second time, the questions turned more conversational.

  “I’m curious about that medallion you’re wearing,” said one of the debriefing crew.

  “Oh,” I said, “It’s just something I picked up on Omaha.”

  There were meetings where the Director talked about Earth’s next big move. “The cat’s not yet out of the bag, but the fabric has a few holes and they’re getting bigger every day. We have to make contingency plans.”

  We weren’t very helpful because that’s not where our talents reside. We all agreed that contingency plans need to be made by contingency planners and the Director agreed.

  Near the end of the third week, the government officials left. I felt pumped dry, so I had a chat with the Director. “Sir,” I said, “I don’t think I have much more for the debriefing people. I have a written record of our adventure with the GPR unit. If possible, I’d like to go home and use the remaining days to write the tale of our latest travels.”

  “Good idea, “the Director said. “I’ll give you a first rate laptop and I’ll throw in some security, but they’ll be out of sight. This is beyond top secret and as far as we know, no hint of this has leaked out so there should be no problems. Before you leave, I’d like to ask you one question. What should be our first priority when we move on Omaha? We’re hoping it will be the most peaceful foray in history.”

  “Then it’s decided that Earth will invade?” I asked.

  “Invade is the wrong word, James,” he said. “We’ll show up with olive branches, but we’ll also be prepared for any event. Our role will be that of peacekeepers. We will protect any and all primes from abuse or exploitation by the gray men, and attempt to open a dialogue. We will of course investigate all potential links between the gray men and the Nazis and if as we fear they are indeed allies of some sort, well, then things might get hot. Our Generals want to move quickly to isolate the gray men and then stabilize the home worlds. If there is any link between them and the Nazis, that link will have to be severed—preferably peacefully, but by force if necessary. Later our people will slowly and cautiously begin to revive the Primes on Enigma. Our troops will be there as observers and escorts at every step. At the moment it appears that we’re the power players, but a few dozen Moses’s running around the place could quickly change that. Those people built a class structured society. We damn sure won’t let them recreate anything of the sort. I’ve talked to Moses about this and he is in agreement. I’m not happy about any of this, but hesitating won’t do any good. Our politicians love to hesitate, but they’re running scared. At this point, they are not a big problem.”

  “Sir,” I replied, “I really think that your military experts will make this a resounding success. I have no concerns about that. I do have a concern about the portal from Ganymede to Nexus. If we should lose that link, it means a starship trip of several lifetimes. I’m not sure that we know exactly where Nexus is from here, but maybe the computer on Moses’ starship knows. I asked YDRII about that and he said that he has a direction, but the planet is hundreds of light years from here.

  “We have two ways to get from Nexus to Omaha and maybe more once we’ve explored more on Nexus. We should have at least two links from Earth to Nexus. I’ve discussed this with Moses and he told me we could tip any portal on edge and pass it through another portal. Eventually, we’ll discover multiple portal locations on the same planets. When that happens, we should bring the pairs to Nexus, then ship one on to Earth.”

  “That will be a top priority,” the Director said.”

  “I have a question for you, if I may,” I said.

  “Certainly,” he replied, “ask away.”

  “Who will be the Supreme Commander?”

  “The politics will be a supreme nightmare,” he said. “You should know that several powerful people have been asking a lot of questions. Right now I am the big cheese, but that could change when all of this gets digested. The German KSK and the Brits SAS lads are in training now. Canada’s on board and we’re in negotiations with the French BFST. It’s a problem. If I have my way we’ll present our world with a fait accompli. That’s where things stand right now, but the situation is fluid.”

  I didn’t ask about the initials. Google would have the answers.

  “One more concern—two things actually,” he said. “I—we here, have a suspicion that the history as known by Moses and Abraham could be false. Think about it. If the gray men did stage a massive revolt, why did you not find cities in ruins, only abandoned? The real damage is on Nexus. Did the low class gray men have the knowledge to plan and effect that attack and where are the bodies? The next concern, and it’s a big one, is that group of Nazis that ran around Paradise with a map. We earlier assumed that the people running the Hollow Mountain had all perished when the submarine exploded. Now it’s just a big question mark. We’re not sure, but we think that because YDRII became suspicious, the Nazis had to act before they were fully prepared. For some reason they had to split their group into two parties. Group one left first with the map. The second group made it through, just before Moses ended all contact. They were the ones who wrecked the Nexus portal. I had a call yesterday. Those little pieces of red cloth are common cotton. This means that the flag you found on Paradise is the one that’s missing from the Hollow Mountain. That phantom train in Sequoia needs an explanation. I’m having nightmares of Nazi superweapons suddenly appearing and doing god knows what. The farmers at Shenandoah had a tale about the black legs using some sort of advanced weapon. That’s another worry. It’s vital to determine the fate of the Nazis. Go get me some answers.” We shook hands. “A helicopter will be waiting for you in front of the motel.”

  I received my full share of goodbye hugs and a promise from the Band that they wo
uld come for a Friday night at Batts. I made a phone call to Harriet, picked up my gear and headed for home.

  CHAPTER 48

  At the Ground Penetrating Radar plant, the sales manager, Mr. Johnson, was waiting for me with a warm welcome and his Cadillac. Since I was the only passenger, I sat up front on the ride home. He was still curious, but managed to keep it under control as he told me how well his company was doing thanks to a new Government contract.

  As I was lifting my gear from the trunk of the Caddy, Lonesome Joe had some news. Two men, apparently agents, are observing you from a house across the street. There is also an unknown woman watching from the house at the right. I thought to him, That’s Mrs. Watson, but she’s no threat.

  I shook hands with Mr. Johnson and walked to the side door where a thoroughly briefed Harriet was waiting with Jesus in her arms. He behaved as though I had just returned from a trip to the store. After some small talk, I went to my little porch office. The surfaces were dust free and the ivy plant fossil still hung above Jean’s picture.

  Jean. Seeing her picture there was like looking through a window to the past. Thoughts boiled up. Thoughts I had unconsciously been suppressing. I sat back and let them surface. It did not take long to examine the reality of my current feelings. The resolution happened fast. Years of indecision evaporated. It was over and it had been over for some time. I think that Jean realized it long before I did. It was also okay. A corner of my mind relaxed and the tension dribbled away.

  The laptop fit well on the roll-top desk. After sharpening pencils I really didn’t need, I got to work though it was going on twilight. Other than my early bike rides I spent morning, noon and night tapping away at the keyboard. By Thursday of week five (Camp David time) I had finished and was halfway through my review. I had not gone to Batts because I was busy and I did not want to go alone. The crew at Camp David was wrapping up their debriefing and would be here tomorrow. Harry was at the airport checking on Nora, but he would join the gang for the flight north. Based on my phone calls to Alice, I also expected to see Shan, Bob and maybe Lamont. They were in for a treat. Even Blue might get a Batts meatball. The other Primes would stay on at Camp David to assist in the planning and for now, they were no longer members of our party. Jean was on her way via the Hollow Mountain and should helicopter in about noon tomorrow. Everything was coming together very well as long as Mr. Johnson’s Cadillac didn’t overheat from the many required trips.

  I wrapped up my writing. Harriet had gone to visit her sister for the weekend and the house was nice and quiet. The front porch looked inviting. I took a half-burnt Shenandoah cigar from my treasure trove and went out the front door. After waving to my invisible guards across the street, I stepped down from the porch and went to the sidewalk. The street was still and empty. Once again, I had that good lonesome feeling. The big old oak that sheltered the stretch of my sidewalk had a large gap directly overhead. I glanced up and experienced a disorienting moment. Was my subconscious playing a trick on me? For a moment, I was looking for Ket Gai, or perhaps Andoona. Is Paradise where I wished to be or is it a passing fancy? I shook it off and returned to the porch.

  James Cagney was restless, though it was not a dark and rainy night. What to do? I had nothing but free time until tomorrow. I checked with my computer companion, but he had no ideas. He was still trying to get used to this new partnership and so was I for that matter. After all, he was a stranger in a strange land.

  CHAPTER 49

  A shadowy figure walked past the low shrubs in front of the porch railing and stopped at the bottom of the steps. It was the widow Molly Watson.

  “I was sitting on my porch when I saw you come out and light up that very fragrant cigar. May I join you for a while?”

  I was on guard, but I did need some company. “Sure thing,” I said. “Have a seat. I could use some company just now.”

  After she got comfortable, she cocked her head to one side and looked at me intently. “James, even in this dim light I can’t help but notice that, although you have always seemed to be athletic, you appear to be ageing in reverse. A year ago, you were a few years my senior, but now I see a much younger man, and a brown one at that. Can I ask why?”

  I leaned forward and spoke to her as a confidant. “Molly, there are some things I can’t talk about just now. At some point in the not too distant future, you will have the answer to this and many other items of interest. I can tell you that I’m working for the government and my skin color is relevant to my job. I hope that this will be sufficient for now.”

  “Actually, I have a sense of privilege that you have told me this much,” she said. “I feel as though you have made me at least a partial insider of an important event and I thank you. This is the first time we will have had a conversation other than in passing.”

  A light breeze stirred the bushes and pushed some cigar smoke toward my guest.

  “That cigar,” she said, “is remarkably fragrant,”

  “It’s a Shenandoah,” I said. “Imported. You smoke?”

  “Used to,” she said. “Cigarettes… Gave them up about fifteen years ago. Can you spare one of those cigars? I’d like to taste one.”

  I went to my desk and brought back one from my stash.

  I held the match. “Good grief, James,” her eyebrows shot up, “this is fabulous. It can’t be legal. Where can I get more?”

  “It’s a private label,” I said, “but I can send you a bundle. My treat.”

  Several savory puffs later, she said, “You know, I’ve grown used to living alone and these days I prefer it, but now and then, especially on an evening like this, I don’t like being by myself. I’m not a very gregarious person. In fact, I’m rather awkward in social situations until I get comfortable with whomever. It took a lot for me to approach you tonight. Here I go, being awkward again.”

  “Relax, Molly,” I said. “I think I understand more than you realize. We’re just two friends enjoying a spring evening and contemplating the vagaries of human nature. I was alone for six years and I too became accustomed to living that way. Every so often, on a night like this, I just have to leave the house to sit on the porch or go to seek companionship. It’s much easier for me cause I’m a guy and in my case all I have to do is trot on down to BVs Bar and Grill. I think I saw you there once. Didn’t you care for the food?”

  “The food was wonderful,” James, “but I was alone in a booth and no one approached. I’m not very good at making contact.”

  “You’re doing just fine tonight,” I said. “I’m sure you weren’t ignored. It’s just that most men are reluctant to approach a woman alone like that. Did you like the Chianti?”

  “I prefer Merlot, but a nice Chianti will always do,” she said.

  Damn, this woman is becoming more appealing by the minute, but my dance card is full. She’s in her late fifties, but one small yellow and blue pill can change everything for her. I could probably manage that, but be careful, James. Take some time and think this through.

  “I remember,” she said, “seeing a television interview some time ago. Someone was interviewing the author, Kurt Vonnegut. One thing he said that stuck with me was that every human being needs a gang. He also said group, tribe, family, club or organization. Self-sufficiency in every respect was not part of the master plan. I guess that’s why there are so few hermits.”

  “That really hits home,” I said. “For most of the past year I’ve had my own new gang. We spent much of our time in the field where we worked, ate and slept together. I can hardly wait to rejoin them tomorrow. Jean will be here too.”

  “Oh,” she said. Then there was a short pause. ”She hasn’t been with you?”

  “No, but that’s another story which you will also hear at the appropriate time.”

  “You’re leaving in the morning?”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “They’re coming here for a Friday night dinner at Batts. We leave on Saturday.”

  “Will Jean be going with you?”

/>   That stumped me for a few moments.

  “I just don’t know, Molly, we haven’t talked yet. Who knows, she may have her own gang by now. It’s an interesting life, is it not?”

  “I envy you, James. I really do, but as for me, I can’t ask anyone else for help in resolving my dilemma. It’s up to me to fix what I don’t like, but you won’t find me picking up guys at the barbershop. Looking to someone else to fulfill my dreams would be a fatal mistake. Any change must come from me… Wow! Listen to that woman. I haven’t spilled my guts like this since forever.”

  “A good listener is the best medicine for your current ailment,” I said.

  The widow Watson and I sat in companionable silence, interspersed with occasional bits of conversation. We were both surprised to hear the bell in the town clock tower announcing the midnight hour. As the last of the sound faded away, Molly stood up to leave.

  “I’ll take this cigar with me,” she said, while reaching down to squeeze my arm. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve really enjoyed this evening,” I said. “I won’t forget the cigars.”

  From the walkway, she called back, “This has been the best of evenings for me, James. I’m so happy I acted on impulse.”

  “That makes two of us,” I said. “Impulse can be a good thing.”

  I waited there until I heard her front door open and close.

  The words floated up through the corridors of my befuddled mind: Women rule—guys drool.

  I was okay with that. It had been a good day and I slept without dreaming.

  It was a little past ten when I woke up. I laid there for a while, thinking of my Thursday and the Molly Watson revelations. Mayhap it was best I did not ask her to dinner long ago. Had I done so, perhaps I would never have traveled to the stars.

  I was awake by the time I finished thinking about all of the many ifs, so I rolled out and hit the shower. The bike ride didn’t happen because Jean would be arriving soon and I should be at the door rather than pedaling around the neighborhood. There was a message from Alice on my answering machine. They were on schedule and would arrive here by mid-afternoon. She also recommended that I call Batts to tell him that a crowd was on the way—so I did.