by Gary Striker
“Could this be considered spousal abuse”, Steve asked innocently?
“Only if I use that shotgun on you”, Jane answered as she pointed to the old Winchester that Steve had just used.
“Where did you find that thing”, Steve inquired with a look of amazement?
“You were sitting on it when I found you, which gives new meaning to the word, ‘dummass’”, Jane affirmed with another victory smile.
“I could be irreparably harmed by these unprovoked attacks of yours”, Steve pointed out, “I have a very sensitive demeanor and my self-esteem could be impaired”.
“Well, hear this, lover-boy! If you ever leave me, that won’t be the only thing that gets impaired”.
“Nobody warned me about this treatment back at the Ski Rack”, Steve reflected, “I signed up for a cute, unobtrusive, sweet little Santa’s elf, and the door prize was Godzilla”.
“Would my damaged hunk of tenderized meat consider moving his butt up to the bedroom before I have to enforce a certain contract”?
“I’m just a sex object. My mama warned me about woman”, Steve reflected with his own victory smile.
“If you weren’t covered with bruises, I’d kick your butt all the way up that staircase!
Aliens in the Allagash
Chapter 16
Driving Forces
Steve awoke to the sounds of breakfast activities and the morning news. It was Wednesday, 08:30 A.M., as he glanced at the clock on his iPhone while checking the messages he received form Darren and Cruz. Darren’s package was due in from L.A. and the day was already jammed with a full schedule and lousy weather.
“I reckon it’s time to get my butt in gear”, Steve mumbled as he tripped over his own shoes on the way to the bathroom.
“I never thought I’d trade in a Scotch bottle for a pair of shoes”, he assessed while regaining his balance and babbled on with his semi-coherent morning analysis. “I heard that mornings are going to be declared illegal, punishable by firing squad. I’m going to apply for the shooter job”.
“What’s that you say”, Jane asked as she bid Steve a good morning?
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me liked that. I might snap”, Steve advised with a tone of caution.
“You snapped years ago”, Jane returned, “and it’s now my job to keep you out of the asylum.
With that observation, Steve’s phone lit up while playing its usual extra-terrestrial ringer tone. Jane grimaced with a look of hopelessness as to what she thought was the dumbest ring tone that she had ever heard.
“They’re calling me from up there”, Steve said with a smile as he pointed to the heavens.
“You missed your opportunity last night, Captain Kirk”, Jane informed him as he picked up his phone.
“Hey, it’s Lucy”, Steve said in a voice of surprise as he answered the call.
“Lucy, how are you? It’s still the middle of the night out there”, Steve pointed out, “What’s going on”?
“Steve, are you ok? Fong and I were worried sick. Cruz came in to eat last night and said you were having trouble with some maniac. I tried calling you later and didn’t get an answer”.
“I’m fine, Lucy, business as usual. We had some nut running loose around here, but nothing more than business as usual”, Steve returned with a calming voice, knowing how excited Lucy could get at times.
“I heard you have a girlfriend”, Lucy said in an excited tone, “Who is she? What’s her name?
“She’s right here, Lucy, listening on the speaker phone. She’s one of Santa’s elves and her name is Godzilla. Say hello.
Jane snatched the phone and took over the conversation.
“Hi Lucy, what a pleasure! Steve mentioned you more than once. I don’t want to disappoint you, but my name is not Godzilla, I’m Jane, the Animal Trainer!
“Well, hi Jane”, Lucy garbled through her laugh, “You have no idea how right you are, especially about ‘The Animal’! It sounds like we needed to talk a few days ago”?
Oh, you wouldn’t believe it”, Jane said emphatically, “It didn’t take him long to make with the Tarzan jokes”.
Steve backed off and got himself ready to face the day as he took a thrashing from his two closest allies. Jane was invited to stay at Steve’s Bayshore hideout anytime, as she had the key, while pointing out that millionaires had a lot less sense than money, and needed someone to take care of them. The girls hit it off like two long lost friends and made plans to meet as soon as situations permitted.
Steve met Jane at the breakfast nook downstairs as the dishes were being put on the table. He knew that there was probably a few hundred things that he was going to hear about! Jane was getting both barrels loaded as Steve took a seat.
“Honey Bunches, would you happen to know a suspect with the nickname, ‘Chick Magnet’”, Jane asked inquisitively with a straight face?
Steve put his face down into his hands while preparing his defense.
“I can’t help what I am. It’s God’s fault. I ‘m not always able to keep these kinds of things out of the newspaper. Humility is virtuous, as is the fight between good and evil. It has been a lifelong endeavor with deep philosophical meaning to me.
“Steve, it’s me, Jane, the animal trainer”, she interrupted, breaking Steve’s trance, “Don’t make me use the ‘L’ word”. She pressed her finger to his lips. “Do you remember the three-step rule? That’s right, Tarzan, press harder. Take a deep breath, you’ll be ok”!
Jane reduced Steve’s argument to kindling wood with little effort as his phone rang again.
“Ah, saved by the aliens”, Steve declared with a smile of relief to the extra-terrestrial sounds of the Twilight Zone. “I’m going to owe those Martian boys a few beers”.
“Hey Ron, you guys ok”, Steve asked with a voice of concern, “Where are you”?
“We’re fine. We’re sitting on the porch steps”.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake”, Steve said while dumbing himself, “We got a late start and hadn’t even put the shades up yet. Get your butt in here”!
Jane opened the front door with a big smile and a hug for Ron as his team made their way into the living room.
“Have a seat”, Jane commanded, “Coffee’s almost ready”.
“Feels good in here”, Ron said while rubbing his hands together, “Smells good too”, he added with a big sniff of the air.
“You stay right here, Jane ordered. It won’t take me but a minute to whip up a remedy for those empty containers”.
“Oh, thanks so much Jane, but we’re meeting Jim and ‘Duty’ over at the Swamp Buck in a half-hour. They have to figure out what to do with the casualties piling up. Jim wants you to join us at his office about eleven o’clock, something about a package delivery”.
“Any sign of Ricky”, Steve asked with a glimmer of hope?
“No, all we found was his riot gun near what’s left of the dock. I’m afraid this is shaping up to be a dive mission”.
“Well, you’re not going anywhere without coffee”, Jane said with a look of distress as she handed out steaming travel cups. “We’ll see you over there”.
Steve discussed the night’s events with Darren and Cruz. Cruz was now more focused on finding any information related to Marie’s disappearance. Steve relayed the trip to Plourde’s and the inspection of the motorcycle. Cruz expressed his concern about anyone else getting killed. Steve assured him that they needed to stay in the saddle, at least for now. They were getting closer to badly needed answers and the gut feeling that something was imminently going to break. Cruz realized, from many years of association with Steve, that he was futile in trying to dissuade this hound dog on a scented trail that was as aromatic as this one. Marie was sure to be somewhere ahead. Cruz reconfirmed full financial support with no limits for necessary expenses, plus personal gratuities to offset the intensity of the mission. In fact, he was shocked that so little money had been spent and jokingly asked if Steve was still on the team! This was Cruz’s method of operat
ion at work; letting some steam out of the pressure cooker was always very conducive to a successful operation. He also had the personal association with something that was extremely abnormal, unexplainable, and addictive, while being involved in a futuristic adaptation of the old pioneer days.
Darren reported that the Correlator was becoming more unstable and that they may need to relocate it, if that was even possible. His testing continued with more questions than answers coming forward. Darren’s comments regarding the events of the previous evening were not surprising to him. Because of the nature of the devices that the creatures were observed carrying, he hypothesized that they may be quite vulnerable without them. The devices appeared to provide communications, a protective shield, weapons, a unique atmosphere, and a multitude of applications, not to mention an infinitely enormous potential to generate energy. The energy part was the most disconcerting, since it had been observed to modify matter as we know it, thus breaking all the rules of physics. Darren requested a return call when they were together with the equipment at Jim’s office. Thus far there was no outside interference from any official agencies. Cruz’s team members were all thankful that the enormous amount of red tape that handcuffs most government operations was actually a role of gray duct tape that they were now wrapped in.
Steve and Jane entered the Wallagrass Town Office to see the whole gang assembled over Jim’s desk. They were unpacking several pieces of equipment. Cheyenne, Jim, Ron, Bob, and Gary were busy inspecting today’s delivery. Gary was very familiar with most of the gadgets, having some academic background with electronic equipment.
“Wow”, Gary exclaimed with a whistle, “This gear set somebody back about fifty grand”!
“We’re covered”, Steve assured, “along with anything else you think we might need”.
“I’m not sure what your buddy wants us to do with all this stuff”, Gary questioned.
“Why don’t we call him and find out”, Steve offered?
Darren explained that all of the equipment was capable of portable operation with the supplied battery packs. There were several key objectives that this high tech gear was designed to record. First, there was an electronic device that was capable of interrogating an enormously wide band of radio wave transmissions, and was also able to differentiate specific information for any individual signal that it may receive. Gary was impressed that Darren was willing to risk this ‘Spectrum Analyzer’ device for information that they may or may not be able to obtain. Gary assured him that he would get himself quickly familiar with this instrument and needed no further coaching, either here or on the job. Gary further confirmed that all he needed to do was to set up the Analyzer once, store the operational parameters, and then simply turn it on when ready to use.
“Piece of cake”, Gary said confidently with a smile.
Darren and the researchers wanted to see if there was a correlation between the emissions that they had observed with Steve’s Martian device and those of anybody else that might be trying to communicate with it. The group regarded this information as very personal stuff, since it would, for the first time, put them in a position of close, perilous contact with an unknown force that the team would initiate.
“Scary stuff”, Jim confirmed, “We will do our best to gather this information and keep your gear in one piece, but I can’t guarantee…” Jim got cut off by Darren who simply said that the potential value of the information that they could possibly record far outweighed any risk that they had considered.
“We’ll do our best”, Jim said confidently, “We could put this equipment to work as early as tomorrow”.
Darren wasn’t quite finished as he brought the group to attention.
“…we have hypothetically determined the wavelength that the Correlator Laser Light Transmitter operates on”.
“Excuse me, Darren”, Jim interrupted, “Can you please translate what you just said into a language that we can all understand, preferably English”?
Everyone laughed and the mood lightened as Darren further explained.
“Not to worry, guys”, Darren assured them, “This one’s easy. I sent you a high power laser transmitter that matches the characteristics of Steve’s Correlator. If, by chance, you have another encounter with your Martian friends, point the beam at them and observe what happens. It could be very interesting, but be careful, you can’t hide the beam”.
Darren signed off with the team as everyone stared at each other questioning the reality of their state of affairs.
“Did the last half hour make anybody else’s head hurt besides mine”, Cheyenne questioned with a grimace?
“You just worry about operating that knife and leave the rest to us electronics experts”, Bob said with a smile as the group chided Cheyenne.
“I think American Express modeled their slogan after Cheyenne”, Gary stated as he observed the KBar combat knife attached to his belt. “Do you ever go anywhere without that thing”?
“Once! They made me take it off for my wedding”, Cheyenne recollected, “But she left me for the hired help anyway. I should have spared everybody the trouble and used it on her when I had the chance”.
“You know”, Bob observed, “Coming from anybody else but you, Cheyenne, that would be a sick sense of morbid humor”.
“Oh, hell”, Cheyenne said with a smirk, “I just wanna catch me a Martian”.
The team was in good spirits and discussed the elements of the recon patrol. The group split up to attend to their last minute details. Steve would activate the mission, depending on the weather conditions and his gut feel, not necessarily in that order.
The importance of the mission was now more personal than objective. It was a state of mind that this group was entangled in something that nobody else had ever attempted, or even had the remote opportunity to try. Jane could sense the driving compulsion and hoped that it didn’t interfere with their better senses. A surrealistic sense of personal endeavor cloaked the group, which meant in everybody’s mind, that there was no turning back.
The hiatus at the lake was being treated as a geologic anomaly. That meant that nobody had a clue as to why this lake suddenly decided to blow its guts out. Occasional seismic activity had been observed on occasion, but nothing that would relate to this phenomenon. There was no further involvement by the F.B.I. or other agencies. A State investigator was being assigned to locate the missing freight train. The St. John’s River Valley community had essentially encapsulated itself within its own unexplainable network of surrealistic events. No sensible person from the outside would risk their job or reputation on something that they did not want to know about anyway. But the people of the Valley knew better. This was not their first encounter with the unexplainable, or for that matter, a sense of how to handle the current crisis.
Jane was setting back in the luxury ride with Steve at the wheel, pondering upcoming events as the north shore of Eagle Lake came into view.
“You’re going back into Ben Lake tomorrow, aren’t you”, Jane asked as a slow drizzle sprinkled the windshield?
“I think the timing is right”, Steve evaluated, “The guys are peaked and we have a battle plan. What didn’t feel right a couple days ago, does now.
“I might be just a tad bit worried”, Jane said while playing down how she really felt.
“We’re not looking for an encounter with these things, whatever they are. We can’t beat them at their own game. This little mission is strictly for information and evidence gathering purposes”.
“This may be a bigger game than you are willing to play”, Jane assessed with a glance from Steve, “For all we know, those things could have been around here longer than we have”.
The Bald Eagle convenience store came into view as they made their way into the Village of Eagle Lake.
“Stop at the Bald Eagle”, Jane requested”, I want to pick up some lemons”.
“You just wanna get another pizza”, Steve chided, “Do you collect those things”?
“I didn’t think you were old enough to know about Carnac”, Steve asked in a slightly amazed tone?
“I am all-knowing and all-seeing, mushroom boy! Get used to it”!
“Mushroom Boy”, Steve questioned with a look of disdain?
“Would you prefer knuckle dragger”?
Steve was trying to assess his own short-comings and wondered just how far out of his own element that he actually was? Jane stared at Steve as he brought the car to a stop.
“You’re getting a ‘French 75’ to wash down that pizza”, Jane informed her beleaguered man as she opened the door.
“I don’t even want to guess”, Steve said in a sign of resignation, “Is that some kind of Acadian sex thing”?
Jane roared and headed into the Bald Eagle. Steve considered nothing as he followed her into the ‘lemon store’. She was busy conversing with the cashier in French as they both broke out in a laugh.
“Must be a ‘French 75’ joke”, Steve surmised to himself as Jane grabbed her man by the arm and did the introductions.
“You’re a brave man”, the clerk offered with a smile and a pat on the shoulder, “I’ll get your lemons, Jane”, the clerk said as she lost it again in a fit of laughter.
Steve set the sack of lemons on the Kitchen table and sat back with a wheeze. Jane was still torqued up and looked ready to fire another missile in Steve’s direction.