Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1)

by Gary Starta

  “So what do we do?” Evan asked. “Immerse her in a sweat bath?”

  “There is no time for that. We will put her in the bathtub.”

  “And . . .”

  “We will rely on Quetzalcoatl.”

  Evan scowled.

  “Mr. Science, have you already lost faith?”

  Tawa yipped and danced in circles around DJ’s dead body.

  Evan motioned for Gavin and Darian to assist DJ’s move to the bath. Inside, he wished Bill’s plans for DJ were more spiritual, because to him, they just sounded paranormal.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  RUSTY WHISPERED an observation. It was as if he didn’t want anyone to hear it, but Dan Camden did.

  “Oh, Great Spirit, give this man solace. Help him to stop shaking.”

  Dan paused a moment. He had just set the dial to its stone surface. Its tiny metal claws scrabbled to find the power conduit. He stared at his hands. “Oh my . . . they are shaking.” The Organization’s number one traitor had a hard time discerning if he was shaking from the gravity of the situation, the danger posed by the artifact, or coming to grips with the fact someone was praying for him. Maybe it was a combination.

  “How can this be?” Rusty asked, this time he spoke louder and directly to Dan. “You must have handled many such objects.”

  “I would have told you more. But I know you hate my guts. Bottom line, I never did anything with the objects we found. I only retrieved them for the higher ups, like some kind of hunting dog.”

  “Confiscated,” Rusty corrected.

  Dan held up a hand. It was wavering only slightly. “Yes. You are right. And . . . even if you aren’t, you deserve to be. I’m sorry for what we did to your people—to everyone.”

  Rusty nodded.

  Dan continued, “I might have been able to quit if I actually witnessed just what the objects were going to be used for. I . . . uh . . . might . . .” He was bent at the knees, peering over the dial At this juncture, he didn’t know if he was about to set yet another awful plan in motion. Could a time slip on a grand scale actually be created? And would it really take the entire planet out of harm’s way concerning the plague weapon?

  “Mr. Camden, what you are doing now for us is honorable.”

  A tear leaked from the corner of Dan’s eye. “Thank-you, Rusty. It’s grand of you to say so. I wouldn’t be so kind to myself. Now back away from here.” He shook his head, continued staring at the tiny claws clicking and clacking into place while Rusty half obeyed, only moving away a yard’s length. “It shouldn’t be much longer!” He shouted to alert Iris and Mitchell. They were standing on the other side of the ledge keeping watch. He felt small and weak. His voice was hoarse and raspy. His frame was shaky and wavering. His conscience felt as it if were pulsating.

  IRIS SHOOK her head. All she could think about was her dad receiving a lethal dose of radiation once the dial became activated again. “I shouldn’t be letting him do this. No matter what my dad participated in, Mitchell, he was coerced. I just know he was.”

  Mitchell sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “I just want you to find peace.”

  “Ugh!” Iris groaned.

  Mitchell wrapped his hands about her waist. “Take it easy. Steady. Steady.”

  “Something’s wrong! We’ve got to get to DJ.”

  “What do you mean?” Mitchell pointed a hand out to the desert for emphasis. “We’re not going anywhere. And we’re about a few seconds from the time slip.”

  “I know, Mitchell. But I’m not reading her like usual. She’s masked or something. The freaking Greys did something to her!”

  She struggled to break free of Mitchell’s grasp but failed.

  “No. Shush.” Mitchell rocked her gently in his arms. Dust whipped about them in a swirling circle. “It’s probably just her Reptilian DNA.”

  Iris mumbled and shook her head.

  On the other side of the ledge, Dan detected a whirring sound. “It looks like we’re in business, Rusty.”

  Dan jumped over the unit and grabbed Rusty. “We better take some cover, my friend.”

  “The sky is becoming dark,” Rusty said. “It is now up to the spirits.”

  Dan grunted. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”

  “OKAY, DUNK her; she’s got to be immersed.” Evan instructed Gavin and Darian to push the dead girl deeper into the camper’s tiny tub. “Don’t look at me, guys. This is per Bill.”

  DJ, totally limp, lay in the bath of water. She didn’t appear to be more anymore alive than a moment earlier. The only parts of her above surface were her lips and nose.

  Gavin and Darian stared quizzically at him. Evan scowled. He shouted, “Okay, Bill, now what we do?”

  He waited a long moment and then repeated his question.

  “We recharge her system.” Bill’s answer made the men jump simultaneously. Water splashed over the tub’s rim and soaked Gavin’s pants.

  “Careful,” Darian scolded Gavin. “We need her immersed.”

  Bill nodded and motioned with his hands for Gavin and Darian to depart.

  Evan inhaled. “Once again, what do we do?”

  “We won’t be doing anything,” Bill answered. “But you can pray if you like.” Bill removed the pendant of Quetzalcoatl from his neck and began dangling it over the water.

  “This is it! We’re going to rely on the pendant to create some energy charge?”

  “We are. We need a certain vibration. Quetzalcoatl can aid us.”

  Evan pinched the bridge of his nose. The guilt was washing over him like a tsunami. If Bill couldn’t revive DJ he would have no choice but to tell Iris of her sister’s fate. Then again, if the time slip didn’t work that might not be a concern. His scientific mind analyzed that there might only be a slight chance Iris would ever learn of his omission. Yet that possibility loomed over him as if a rain cloud.

  LIGHTS BEGAN to swirl in the pueblo. Iris’s struggling weakened. A mantra began to repeat in her mind. I will not fail again. I’ve sworn to protect my team. That includes everyone! Do you hear me? She had no idea who was speaking to. Dust clouds rose higher and higher, conspiring to send sand into her eyes. She could barely see. By touch, she knew Mitchell was holding her. Out of the corner of one bleary eye, she saw two figures that appeared to be nothing other than patches of dark red sand. Their silhouettes resembled her dad and Rusty. She clenched her fist into a ball. It was as if she were prepping for a scary carnival ride. I must weather this storm. I must weather this storm. DJ, can you hear me? I will help you, just please hang on . . . Darkness intensified as if it were a summer day awaiting a heavy storm. Then light blazed. In that instant, Iris and her thoughts were disengaged from the reality she had come to known.

  THE TIME slip was enacted. The OBOLs had sufficient time to interact with The Dial, now fully charged, and fully plugged into its Chaco Canyon power source. Space/Time was Time/Space. Absorbed in the fourth dimension of time, the entire planet and its orbiting companions were motionless yet revolving. Rational minds struggled with this and many other conundrums. Quantum disruption now governed Earth and its surrounding atmosphere. Anything and nothing could happen to anything and anyone. It was a moment physicist Michio Kaku would savor depending on which reference of time the theoretical scientist perceived to be reality. For each and every person on planet Earth, time was now based on the individual’s perspective. Were they experiencing a past, a future, or perhaps a dual-reality where past, present, and future bled into one another and created a new intersection of experience?

  For Iris, her new reality was dark and uncertain; it was as if she had projected her worries and concerns from moments earlier onto a blank canvas. The canvas now was streaked with the blackness of despair. Its only relief came in the form of crimson dashes of agony.

  She crawled down a dark hallway, feeling small as a toddler. The investigator inside of her prodded her along. “Who am I?” She asked the question rhetorically. An older
voice of hers answered. “You are always the investigator. It is your makeup.”

  Her squeaky toned voice implored the older voice to give her comfort. “But what about my family, my friends?”

  “Who you are supersedes these concerns. Who you are is the constant.”

  “No!” Iris the toddler whined in defiance. “If you are my future, you must know how to make all things right.”

  Iris beat her fists on whatever supported her. Enveloped in darkness, intermittent flashes of red gave some hint that she was in a tunnel. But it was never light enough for her to identify any substance. She began to cry.

  A giant white light bore down on her. Every instinct told her it must be a train. But how could that be? She rolled sideways hoping to remove herself from its path. But it had no destination and it was no light. It was a giant eyeball. It opened and closed to reveal a black iris. It blinked a few more times, and a wave of gushing red liquid poured out of it, lifting her off the surface. She flailed and gasped, caught in the grip of the red sea. The older voice returned. “It is time to stop believing everything follows a succession. See what you we’re really meant to see.”

  The wave carried her along. She bobbed up and down into the liquid several times, swallowing the red bile and spitting it back out amidst fits of coughing.

  EVAN FELT his stomach drop as if it were no longer attached. A second ago he swore his hands were clenching the tub of water. Now he was staring at a wedding band on the ring finger of his left hand. He flipped his hand over and back a few times, studying it like a scientist. He jiggled the ring but there was little leeway. He noticed red indentions. Whatever had happened occurred a while ago.

  “Come on, we’re going to be late for your speaking engagement.”

  What? The voice was feminine. It had an attitude. It was . . . Kassidy.

  She snuggled next to him, burying her curly head of hair into his chest.

  “This is a first. I’ve never seen you dally, especially when you’ve been asked to speak about your paper. What is this . . .?” She lifted her head off his chest and gave a silent count on her fingers. “. . . your fourth published article in Science Daily in as many years.”

  She flashed her ring at him. “Keep it up, and maybe I’ll get an upgrade.” She gasped. “Oh, oh dear. I’m sorry, honey. That was the old me, talking. Forgive me.”

  Evan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah . . . you’re forgiven.” Something on the wall had caught his attention. It was a plaque announcing Kassidy’s completion of a 12-step program. Next to it was a diploma. It announced Kassidy had earned her Master’s Degree in astrophysics at John Hopkins. Just how much time had passed in seconds? How much time could have passed for Kassidy to lose her cynicism?

  “Don’t worry.” Kassidy patted his shoulder. “You won’t have to do all the lecturing by yourself. One day soon I’m going to be having articles published as well. But first . . .” She stared down at her protruding belly.

  Overwhelmed by what appeared to be his future/present, Evan ambled for the closet to find a tie. “I’ll just be a minute.” He then disappeared into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Several deep inhales and exhales later, Evan began looping the tie about his neck. It was then, in another mirror positioned on the bathroom door, he observed the betrayal. The door was ajar enough to mirror the reflection of the bedroom vanity. Kassidy was not primping as promised. She was imbibing from a flask she had no doubt stashed in a drawer.

  “Ah, what do you think you’re doing to our child?”

  “Shit, Evan. It’s just a sip. And to be technical, you know damned well this isn’t your baby.”

  “What the hell?” Evan slammed the heel of his fist against his forehead.

  “Okay, what I said was cruel. It’s your child. Just not your seed . . .”

  Evan cursed silently trying to access a memory for this sudden reality. He envisioned a lab. Yes. They had been unable to conceive naturally. “Artificial insemination didn’t sound like a bad option to you then.” Whose voice was inside his head? He knew it wasn’t his. “Here, recall some of the arguments you had with your dear wife over it.” The reel played. Kassidy threw objects, she yelled, he yelled back. “But all in all, what really poisoned your wife to renege on her promise of sobriety was the ever present feeling you transmitted to her daily.” Evan felt his face flush. He recalled a vision of DJ choking. He couldn’t quite place it. But he watched how helpless she was. She was being strangled by something invisible. Something that created reality from mere thought . . . Shit! It was his fault. He had projected his doubt into her makeup. And he had been poisoning Kassidy for years with his negative judgments, apparently. He recalled a lecture where a geneticist maintained environment was equally responsible for a person’s actions and feelings as their genetic coding was. People weren’t predisposed when it came to their personality or outlook on life. Outcomes could change. He wished he had applied this knowledge. He heard the voice speak again. “You understand now why we need to change you. You are not strong enough to utilize all the knowledge at your disposal. We’re just going to tweak . . .” Evan cupped his hands over his ears. He found himself staring intently at a clock. It was a tether his subconscious advised him. But where did it lead? He had no idea. He listened to the ever-loudening metronome of the clock. It ticked. He focused on the sound. He focused on its vibration. If there was indeed a way to change everything he needed to change it now.

  “LIAR! LIAR! Freakazoid’s pants on fire!”

  Phil Carlson and Jimmy Reiss danced around Gavin. How can this be? They look just like they did at eleven. Gavin checked his attire. The tee and jeans were from his middle school years. I’m eleven years old as well . . .

  The taunts grew louder and meaner. There was a certain cadence to the words. It took several minutes for Gavin to discern just what was being said. It was something about his sighting. Oh, no. This is déjà vu. I have been here before. I know because now Katy Silvers is going to join the chorus.

  What could be worse than losing two of your best friends? Feeling the sting of hatred emanate from your grade school crush, that’s what.

  Gavin who was rarely at a loss for words attempted speech. But he stammered as Katy’s eyes bore into him. “I know what I saw. It was an orange ball in the sky. If only I could show it to you.” Katy’s eyes were no longer the jewel-like orbs he fancied. Instead, they were unkind and mocking.

  Jimmy Reiss turned to Katy and said, “I wonder just how many of his other stories were lies?” Jimmy turned back to Gavin. “Come on, tell us!”

  “Yeah, tell us.” Katy screamed making her voice all the more feminine in pitch. Daggers sliced through Gavin’s racing heart at her words. “You thought you could impress us.” She squinted at him. “You thought you could impress me with your lies!”

  “No. No!” Gavin waved hands at them. “I can prove this . . . somehow.” A bell rang and Gavin glanced at his watch. The digital device operated silently but now it clicked off seconds as if boulders were being split in two. Gavin thought to himself. I can prove what I saw. I just need time.

  DAN CAMDEN stared repeatedly at the printed words on his newspaper. He wasn’t absorbing them. They might as well have been printed in a foreign language.

  A woman’s voice startled him, and he made horrific crumpling noises with the paper to her dismay.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he told her. “You know, maybe one day we’ll have these tree wasters replaced.” He smiled sheepishly and nodded. She pointed in the direction of an office. He dropped the paper into a receptacle and followed the direction of her finger.

  He hadn’t slept all night thinking about his appointment. Everything was transpiring as he imagined. The interviewer even resembled the image in his head. The man wore black hair slicked back, his suit was charcoal gray, and his shoes had a buckle on them.

  Dan took the offered seat and folded his hands on his lap. He could feel them shake. He wasn’t all prepared for
a job interview of this grandeur. It wasn’t a job per se; it was a career as it stated in the classified advertisement. But how could he have prepared? He flinched when the interviewer, Mr. Jorgenson, stated, “Are you ready to help set our course for the best possible destiny?”

  Dan nodded. Then the déjà vu struck him. He had been here before. But he couldn’t recall any of the details going forward. It was as if he crammed all night for a test but allowed fear of failure to paralyze him at exam time.

  Mr. Jorgenson asked him about his qualifications.

  “Uh, Mr. Jorgenson, you said there were no qualifications for this job. Just to bring a dedicated attitude, and I have.”

  “Very astute, you paid attention to detail. But sometimes we need our employees to think on their feet. Certain situations might arise where a predicted outcome cannot be guaranteed.” He folded his hands and stared intently at Dan.

  “Well, sir, you’re going to love this.” Dan detailed his gift. He waited for the interviewer’s response, sure the man was going to send him to the top of the class—whatever class that might be.

  “We know all about your gift, Mr. Camden. We had you processed.”

  “You had what?” Dan stammered. “You mean the X-ray machine? I thought that was just to see if I carried any weapons.”

  Jorgenson nodded. “No. This was done as you waited for your appointment.”