by Gary Starta
“So, Will, care to elaborate on Dan’s so-called odd behavior?” Jack asked.
Will shuffled a folder on his desk. Jack realized Will was attempting to avoid his question. In a way, this was good. It meant Will prioritized the importance of withholding information. Jack coaxed Will by explaining this wasn’t as much about keeping personal issues under wraps as it was about observation. Observation, Jack said, was how fellow employees could keep checks and balances system in place.
Will joked. “Kind of seems like spying to me.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t really harbor any resentment to the guy. As far I know he’s dedicated as we are. But the last week he’s been odd. Rushing to and from his office with his head down, avoiding any eye contact. I mean, this behavior is necessary in the field. But he’s one of us. It started to make me wonder if he had something other to hide than field missions. I don’t know . . . it’s just a gut feeling. Maybe it’s all due to that chip in his brain.”
Jack motioned with his hand for Will to continue. “I am just wondering if Dan might be involved in some unauthorized work. That’s all, Jack.” Will grabbed another folder from a cabinet and plopped it onto his desk.
Wheels turned in Jack’s mind. It wouldn’t be hard to access Dan’s computer. He would wait until Dan had left for the evening and then hack into his system. Everyone was networked. It was a gentle reminder from the department heads that whatever anyone shared on computer could be monitored. Jack observed Will organize his desk as he waited. He realized Will was well trained in deceit. He rarely entered data on the computer, preferring to use paper files instead.
Hours later, Jack’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Man, he’s spying on his own kid,” Will remarked as he peered over Jack’s shoulder at a monitor.
They both read the notes. Some kind of object had been discovered in Colorado. Metallic and balled shaped, it was believed to have fallen from the sky.
Will scrubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe it’s similar to our find in Namibia.”
“You know what that means,” Jack said to Will. “We’ve got to confiscate it.”
“Wow, I’ve never heard of an operation involving family,” Will said, his voice distant.
“Our job is bigger than family, Will. You understand this is just business.” He arched an eyebrow for emphasis.
“Maybe he’s going to handle it, Jack. Alone.”
Jack bit his lip. He wouldn’t verbalize the thought that nagged him. But what if Dan would ultimately act to protect his family? Civilians were to be kept from discovery—at all costs. Now Jack wondered what costs the Camden family might have to pay for the good of the Organization.
IRIS FIDDLED with the tuner on her car radio. Neither music nor talk show chatter could drown out the imaginary conversation in her mind. She lowered the volume as confirmation. For miles, she and Ron conversed in her head as she navigated the route to his home. What would she really say to him when they were fact to face? How to begin? Comment about how bad she felt about what happened or engage in phony small talk? After all this time, any conversation with anybody could become awkward. More so in this instance because Ron wasn’t really himself anymore. Not after he encountered the ghosts at the Estes Park hotel. More complicated, Ron had been a potential love interest. The parallels between Ron and Mitchell were obvious. As she continued to drive, she wondered literally if she was heading down the same path and incapable of correcting course.
Iris knocked on his door for several minutes before he answered. She peered around at the yard, wondering if he still lived alone. Just one car in the drive and some tools were scattered about the side of the garage. The lawn was cut immaculately in some sections while other parts were strangled in weeds.
Finally, he answered. She did what came naturally to her.
She hugged him. “It’s so good to see you again.”
He attempted a feeble physical response. His hand tapped along her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch.” She offered a non-verbal apology with one arm extending forward with an open palm.
A wry smile graced his face. Iris could detect no hint of that smile in his eyes. “Well, we all know. Things happen.” He attempted to accentuate his entire body with his hands. Iris bit down on her lip. She was on the verge of crying.
“You look good,” she said.
He grunted. “Uh huh.”
Iris accepted his offer of a seat. She sat next to him, all but wrapping her hands inside of her sleeves as if it would offer support to continue.
“You’re here for a reason, Iris. I could tell it in your tone over the phone. It kind of made me think about our investigations. You always had a hint of fear in your voice. I respected it. It meant you took your investigations seriously. And before we did the hotel, I thought we worked pretty well as a team. But what did I know? I’m just glad nothing happened to you. And whatever you need to ask me about your investigation, I hope you will consider walking away from it. Before you or someone you know ends up like me.”
Iris inhaled. She was surprised Ron had spoken as much as he did. He all but sounded catatonic over the phone. But what he said was like a roadblock. How could she even think about bothering this man? She surmised he was starved for companionship despite his preference to hole away from the world. A quick inventory of the house again echoed the state of the yard. Some dishes were sitting in a drainer, others scattered across a less than hygienic kitchen table. Such contradiction, as though Ron had a handle on things for most of the time before slipping away into whatever abyss those red spherical orbs had either instilled in him—or taken away from him.
She threw caution aside and took his hand into hers. “Can you tell me how it’s been? I mean, how it’s really been, Ron? Why did you disappear?”
He gritted his teeth. “I had no choice in the matter.” She felt his hand quiver. He was mad enough to spit. But she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her. And even if some kind of presence had a hold of him right now, she wasn’t going to retreat. She wanted to rectify the past and make certain the people in her future would never be impacted the way he had been. But she also didn’t want to simply give up her investigations. If she did, what example would she be setting for DJ? She had just begun to pull her younger sister out of a hole; the same kind of dark well she was sure Ron had slipped into years earlier. There had to be a way to keep Mitchell and Evan from their current quest, before they were hurt as well. Yet she needed, for her own self esteem, to remain the lead investigator of her team. Before Ron’s incident, it was clear he was encouraging her to do just that. But where to draw the line was the question. At least it was with Mitchell; courage had to be tempered with common sense. Mitchell was so certain of the alien’s story he sounded as if he would risk anyone to complete its request. Ron had never been such a loose cannon, and the very fact he shielded his team from danger had proved it.
“Ron,” she said, running her free hand along his shoulder, “would you help me by talking to a fellow investigator?” His body jerked in reaction. Iris surmised it was Ron’s subconscious response. She reasoned there was still a way to reach him despite his inner demons.
She explained how she and Mitchell had come into possession of a strange object, its odd effect on equipment and subsequent meeting with the presence. “He’s willing to believe this dial will stop an invasion. As an experienced investigator, I need you to convince him to step back. He’s so excited to believe he’s made alien contact it has clouded his judgment. I, on the other hand, am still not convinced the spirit is extraterrestrial. You see, I’ve retained a thing or two about what you’ve taught me.”
Ron gripped her hand tighter. “I don’t think it’s necessarily me who’s influencing you. Just a feeling, I suppose. But what have I learned from my contact? Not much. I can’t even determine if those spheres have affected me or it’s all been self-delusion. Maybe I’m just sick. Either way, what could I tell this man? Obviously, h
e sounds obsessed with his work. The way I once was. I learned to step away . . . dammit! I had to step away!” Ron released her hand.
Iris peered into Ron’s eyes. Was he simply contracting from the population because of a sick mind, or was there some other imperative? His last words seemed to be directed at some invisible entity. She stumbled on her first few words, but managed to inquire if he had a feeling as to why he needed such isolation.
He fell back against the sofa’s backrest and mopped a hand through his hair. “What you’re asking of me . . . I just . . . I cannot . . .”
Iris winced. Shit, what had happened to Ron? Instinct screamed her friend really was affected by something supernatural. It was influencing his thoughts. She felt the blood rush from her face. Now she might be in the same danger. What if she was already infected by her mind link with the presence?
“This is important, Ron. Please tell me anything specific as to why you must keep isolated. What has been said to you?” Her breathing had become ragged, and she unconsciously clamped a hand around his arm, a gesture that seemed to demand an answer.
Ron’s eyes grew wide in response. “This is crazy. That’s why I’ve kept to myself. Don’t you see what’s happening to you?”
She released his arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t know . . .”
“Dammit,” Ron muttered. “We never truly believed in consequence. I should never have encouraged you, Iris.”
“No. Don’t say that.” She bent toward him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. She needed her friend. What’s more she needed a normal response from him.
His response was cautious. As if something still had him in its grip and was directing him. She wondered what would have happened if she had let Ron know about her personal feelings toward him back then. Would he be behaving so guardedly now?
“Ron, I know you’ve always liked me.” Shit, I can’t believe I just said that, just did that. But desperate measures . . . “Something is clearly affecting you. I won’t accept it’s your mind. You are too strong willed. So, tell me. Please . . . just tell me.”
A few minutes passed. Ron told her of the ship that haunted him; a vision that had struck every few weeks with the same consistency over the years. It interrupted his waking moments. It was such a vivid and explosive vision it interfered with any daily activities. “Sometimes I don’t even recall what I’ve been doing; where I’ve left off after these visions. I’ve never been psychic, but they made me so. To what end, I can’t say. That’s why I sound crazy. Do you think I can tell anyone about this? I see this ship but have no idea what it wants. I can only feel it. It’s desperate. Searching for something it hasn’t found. I can feel its anger. I don’t know its purpose. I can’t ascertain what my purpose is in all this. It makes no sense.”
Iris digested his account. “I’m so sorry,” she finally said. “I am here for you, anytime.”
“I know that,” Ron said. “But I’ve got to find a way for me to be all here—for me.”
She hugged him. “I hope you will reconsider talking to my team. They need you. We . . . need you.”
Ron nodded. It was noncommittal.
As Iris drove away, she imagined the ship haunting Ron. Was it just foolery? The same type of ship she had encountered in her subconscious, the light source that she believed hovered over her bed; possibly all mere illusions? Yet why would ghosts leave Ron with impressions of a space ship, no matter if it were real or not? Before she arrived home, she had to admit there might be a connection between Ron’s ship and hers. But that’s all she would concede. The fact that the phantom video recording might really contain footage of the Estes Park hotel was way too coincidental and unsettling to fathom at the moment. Because if this were all true, it would stand to reason she was on the verge of losing herself just as Ron had.
“MOM, ARE YOU there? It’s okay . . .”
DJ called for her mother. It had been a while since they spoke. She never imagined willingly summoning her.
“Come on. I know I’ve been rude, hostile. I thought it was for the best. Now I’ve met someone, I’m not sure how I’ve reacted to you was correct. Can we . . . please . . . talk?”
Doris Camden’s apparition appeared over DJ’s bed.
“Um, Mom; a little unsettling . . .”
Mom drifted back, settling over a chair. “Better?” the ghost asked.
DJ nodded. “I know I’ve been awful to you. I just am having trouble figuring out what to do. You told me you had a feeling; that I should trust the presence. And I do. I need to find out if it’s because he is somehow connected with me.”
“You should be able to answer your own question. Do you feel a connection with him?”
“I feel a vague connection with the presence. It’s like an old acquaintance. Maybe like a comfortable pair of jeans . . .”
Doris smiled unabashedly. “Mom, this isn’t a joke”.
“And I’m not kidding. I felt the same connection you’re having with the alien ghost. Only it was with this man named Stephen. I somehow felt he wasn’t ordinary and that there was something special inside of him. When I learned what it was, Stephen said it was better we part ways and that I could get hurt in his fight. I think your alien ghost is part of the resistance my ex-boyfriend was involved with. Anyway, because we split apart, I was able to marry your father and give birth to you. I have no regrets. But I do think there was a reason why I connected with him. And even though Stephen is not your father, in a way he is. Somehow he changed our makeup by sheer touch. I know it’s a lot to fathom, but ultimately I believe it is why you should trust the alien ghost. It seems you were destined to aid in his fight.”
“So, I just have to trust . . . feelings? That doesn’t sound sensible.”
“What about this boy you’ve met? Tell me why you like him?”
DJ smiled. “I like the way he makes me feel. About me . . .”
“So, it’s a feeling, huh?”
“Okay, okay. But liking a boy is not nearly as consequential as what we are getting ourselves into. This could affect the entire planet. And what really bothers me is that there is going to be friction between me and Iris. I know she distrusts the presence. She apparently doesn’t have the feelings I have, even when she communicated via her subconscious to it. That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does make sense. If you and I have alien makeup, DJ, it makes all the sense in the universe.”
“But that doesn’t seem to explain all of it. This seems more about an attitude. I understand why Iris is upset. I’ve heard the same lectures from Dad: Don’t believe in aliens.”
Doris chuckled. “Maybe that’s where you got your oratory skills from?”
“From Dad, huh? Well . . . I’ve never considered that, but that’s troubling all in itself.”
“Just because he and I parted doesn’t mean you have to harbor grudges against his work.”
“But his job is why you parted with him, Mom. How can I help but not hold a grudge? He chose a career over you, over me, over Iris . . .”
“That aside, this decision isn’t all yours. Let appointed leaders choose what’s best, DJ. You are wise because you’ve always stood back and considered both sides. But I like what I’m hearing. You’re returning to yourself.”
“So I should investigate again, as a ghost hunting medium? Don’t you think I should consider schooling? What about a political career?”
“Certainly, but for now give yourself some time with your boyfriend.”
“That’s going to be hard with the current circumstances, especially if I am not even entirely human.”
“Make time with your boyfriend and just enjoy being in the moment. He needs you as much as you need him. I suppose you’ve already concluded that.”
“Okay, Mom, but if you can tell me anything else about our ‘feelings’ I would appreciate it. I mean, you think Stephen affected our makeup, but how can we be sure?”
A door slammed from downstairs. Doris’s apparition faded. DJ didn’t ne
ed psychic sense to tell her Iris was home.
THE TEAMS would again convene in the living/conference room of the Camden house. Iris sensed DJ was instantly transformed in mood at the news. It meant her younger sister was happy. DJ would see Darian and that meant the medium would come one step closer to abandoning her shell. In a way, despite everything, Iris felt a slight tingle at the prospect of seeing Mitchell. Despite everything—including that kiss with Ron mere hours ago.
It didn’t mean romance. It was just a way to help a friend come back. It was a gentle kiss, not the kind of heat I felt with Mitchell. Guilt forced her to abandon sweet remembrances with Mitchell. Nevertheless, her most recent kiss was a means to answer Ron’s silent cry for help. But help him come back from what? She believed herself to be a serious investigator and yet couldn’t explain or classify recent events. She couldn’t even classify her standing with Mitchell at the moment. Pathetic.
The teams gathered and found their usual seats. Iris took notice of Gavin. He seemed disconcerted. This was an opportunity to diminish some of the guy’s enthusiasm concerning the dial. She found her way to the back of his seat and asked what was bothering him, in a whisper.
“Oh, nothing much I suppose. It’s just expectations. I never quite envisioned contact with an alien in this fashion. It seems so non-Hollywood. I guess I was expecting more confrontation.” He swallowed audibly. “Guess that sounds stupid, right? I don’t think any of us relishes that kind of danger in truth.”