The Goldilocks Zone

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The Goldilocks Zone Page 25

by David D. Luxton


  I slipped into the locker room, and found Mike’s pants hanging on a hook. I took the keys from his lanyard, and went quietly to the vault, my heart pounding in excitement. I dug deep into the cabinets, pulling out files and skimming them for relevant information. There were bundles upon bundles of real estate records. It appeared that the Byrnes had acquired additional tracts of land in the area around Missoula and up along Interstate 90. In another drawer I found lease documents for cell towers. They were bringing in some serious money from the leases, more than $150,000 a year. How did they acquire so much land? I kept digging and found some banking records, showing loans to the Foundation. It appeared to me the Byrnes were acquiring land and leasing it to cell towers companies. The Proxima Foundation had to be a front for the CIA or whoever was behind the mind control operation. It made sense. Cloak the experiments in a UFO cult so that victims of the mind controlling hallucinations would believe they were seeing spaceships and having encounters with extraterrestrials.

  As I began to take photos of the documents the door flew open. It was Mike, still in workout shorts and tank top, his face glistening with sweat. He had a handheld radio in one hand, his Glock in the other. I instinctually threw my hands up, the one with the cell phone nearly knocking the statue of Quan Yin off her shelf.

  “What are you doing in here?” he shouted. Veins pulsed on his forehead as he held me in the pistol’s sights.

  I stuttered and spewed out the first explanation that came to mind. “I’m looking for some paperwork Nadine asked me to work on. Routine stuff.”

  “Oh yeah? Routine? Like what?”

  “Just some accounting stuff.”

  “Bullshit!” Mike moved closer. “You’re not authorized to be in here. Keep your hands up where I can see them.”

  My mind scrambled for what to say next. I started to put my hands down.

  “Keep your fucking hands where I can see them!” he shouted.

  I threw my hands back up. “Relax, Mike, no need to point that at me.”

  His eyes glued to me, he called on the radio. “Code Red. Nadine’s office.”

  Chester responded. “What? Who is it?”

  “Hurry your ass up here,” Mike commanded.

  Mike sat on Nadine’s desk, Glock still on me. “What are you doing, man?”

  I still had hope that I could weasel my way out of the situation and hightail it out of there. “Like I said, Nadine asked me to review some files.”

  “What files?”

  “None of your business, Mike.”

  “It is my business. I’m Chief of Security. You’re lucky I didn’t cap your ass when I walked in on you. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Chester arrived in sweatpants and half out of breath. He swung an AR-15 from around his shoulder and pointed it at me. “What’s he doing in here?” he huffed.

  “That’s what I want to know,” Mike snapped, still pointing his gun at me.

  “Come on, guys, is this necessary?” I asked. “I’m just doing my job. You need to talk to Nadine when she gets back. She’ll explain this.”

  “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. Fucking journalist,” Mike said.

  “Not too smart,” Chester added, “the room is alarmed.”

  “Hand over your phone, Ben,” Mike demanded.

  “I’m not going to do that,” I said quietly.

  Mike shoved the Glock into my face. “Chester, take his phone.”

  Chester slung his rifle and grabbed my phone. I pulled it away. He gripped my arm. Mike’s Glock was now inches from my brow. “Hand it over or tap tap.”

  I yielded the phone to Chester.

  “Wait until Nadine finds out. She’s going to be pissed,” Chester said.

  “Go ahead and call her. You know she’s getting her face done.”

  “You’re a dumb fuck,” Mike said. He waved the barrel of his gun towards the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

  They led me downstairs and out into the backyard. Mike made me sit on the ground while he phoned Nadine. To my unfortunate surprise, she answered. Mike told her that I’d been caught snooping around in her office. Mike asked about Daniel, but apparently Nadine wasn’t going to tell him about the situation right away.

  After several more yes ma’ams, Mike ended the call and ordered me to get my ass up.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said.

  They led me around the back of the house into the horse stables. In the back was a Conex container for Nadine’s equestrian supplies.

  I eyed the box in terror. “You’re not going to put me in there. That’s unlawful imprisonment.”

  “Oh yeah, I am. Nadine said she doesn’t want you running off. Get your ass in there or I’ll put you in there!”

  Chester opened the door and shoved me. “Yeah, get your ass in there.”

  The odor of tanned leather whipped my nostrils. I looked at Mike and the Glock one last time before he closed the door.

  There were saddles and tack along the walls. I felt around until I found the string to the light. I paced and thought about how I was going to get out of this situation. Were they going to drug me and then kill me? Bury me somewhere in the valley?

  Twenty minutes later, the door opened. Nadine stood before me, hands on her hips, Mike and Chester at her sides.

  She shook her head. “What in tarnation do you think you were doing, Ben? Snooping around in my files? What are you looking for?”

  I stood up. Mike stepped forward, hand on his gun.

  “That won’t be necessary, Mike, let’s hear what he has to say.”

  “I was looking for information about the Phoenix Lights and my father, that’s all.”

  “What exactly, Ben? You know you can just ask Daniel for information. We are not trying to keep anything from you, and I know you know that. So level up. What were you really looking for?”

  “I think it’s time for me to go. Can I have my phone please?”

  “Want me to make him talk?” Mike asked.

  “You know this is unlawful imprisonment. You need to let me go.”

  “Darn it, Ben, you are lucky Mike and Chester didn’t shoot you. We’ve had people breaking into our offices before, looking to sabotage Daniel’s work. Now, tell me what in tarnation you were looking for? You have pictures of our real-estate records and other financial records. Why, Ben? These are all private Foundation documents.”

  “Yeah? We’ll why don’t you tell me what is going on with the cell towers?”

  “What about them?”

  “You tell me,” I said.

  “All right, you got me. We’ve been buying up land and leasing it out for new cellular towers. So what? No crime in that. Its just a good investment.” She shook her head.

  “Are you sure that’s what it is?” I asked, my hands were shaking from fear. I knew they could kill me at any moment, but something was driving me to demand the truth.

  “What else would it be?” Nadine asked.

  “What about the iM4ET app? Why is it transmitting on non-FCC-approved frequencies? What’s up with that?”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about. Have you lost your mind? The app was approved by the app stores and is fully compliant with all laws. Where are you are getting this information? The Internet? Come on, Ben.”

  “I know that something is going on here and I know you are not who you say you are.”

  “Well spit in my eye and call me a liar!” said Nadine. “Ben, you’re blinded by the effects of the Proximians. Don’t you see it?”

  “No, I’m not blinded by anything. I’m thinking clearly, and I know you’re hiding your true identity. You and Daniel were at Harvard together, why lie about that?”

  “What do you mean? We met in Chicago. We found out later that we were both at Harvard at the same time. You’re wasting your time fishing for the moon in the water. You’ve let us down, Ben, we trusted you like our own son. But now trust is broken.
I have no choice but to let you go.”

  “He’s going to write another crap article,” Mike warned.

  “No I’m not. I’m just ready to move on. Can I go please?”

  “And don’t forget you have a legally binding employment contract and nondisclosure agreement with us,” Nadine said.

  “Should we go and get Daniel?” Mike asked her.

  “No, I’ll tell him later, it will just upset him. He doesn’t need to be distracted by this foolishness; he needs to focus.” She headed out of the stables. “Mike, Chester, take care of this. I don’t have time for him anymore.”

  They grabbed me by both arms and took me out of the barn and down the hill toward the pods. I struggled to free myself from their grip. Were they going to take me out back and beat me to a pulp or just shoot me?

  When we got to my pod, Mike shoved me in. “You need to pack your shit and get out. You’re lucky I don’t just shoot your ass.”

  The two of them kept their eyes on me while I packed, then they followed me up to the parking lot to my Jetta. As I set my bags down to open my trunk, Mike kicked me in the ass and threw my phone at me. “Asshole,” he said.

  “Fuck you, Mike!” I replied, picking up my phone.

  As I turned the car around, I saw Daniel on the back porch. He stood up from his Adirondack, his reading glasses on and stared at me through the screen. I wanted to wave, do something, but I couldn’t see any point in it. Relieved I was still alive, I hit the accelerator and drove out of the Valley of the Moon and straight to Brenda’s where I paced around her living room, livid from what had just transpired.

  “They locked me up in one of those shipping containers, pulled guns on me. Assholes! I should sue them!”

  Brenda convinced me to sit down. I told her about the altercation with Nadine and what I managed to learn about the cell-tower land leases. I looked for the document photos on my phone, but they were gone. “They wiped the photos off my phone.”

  “Of course, they did,” Brenda said.

  Just then, the iM4ET app chimed. I shook my head. “I don’t believe this; that damned iM4ET is on my phone again!” I held up the cracked screen with the app icon to prove it to Brenda, and then uninstalled the app. “The Proxima Foundation is obviously a front for a CIA mind-control program. Why else would they have a stake in the towers and why this app?”

  “That’s been your hypothesis for weeks, but we still don’t have any proof.”

  “I called Nadine on it too. I asked her what they were doing with the cell towers and who she really was.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Denied it of course, called me crazy. I’d like to know what else they have hidden in those files. If only I hadn’t gotten caught.”

  “What are you going to do now? It’s not like you can actually sue them. Probably best you are done with them. You’re lucky to be alive. They could have killed you.”

  She was right.

  “What about your aunt? We can’t prove who killed her.”

  She put her hand in mine. “It’s all right, we’ll think of something else. By the way, Happy Thanksgiving.” She smiled at me. “Hungry?”

  She heated up some real turkey leftovers from her Uncle’s while I sat at the kitchen table with her laptop, checking to see what news media were reporting. A story was circulating about an increase in UFO sightings and Daniel’s alleged contact with aliens.

  “I bet they are raking in the dough now,” Brenda said.

  I was more irked than ever that I’d failed to find any smoking gun.

  We sat down to eat, Brenda poured some Merlot while I stared at my plate, thinking about what to do next.

  “Get some rest tonight,” Brenda said while eating. “Maybe you can get a start on the podcast we talked about.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said, picking up my fork.

  The next few days, I camped in Brenda’s trailer while she went to work at Ramblin’ Joe’s. I tried to write an article and set up a YouTube channel for my new podcast, but I had temporarily lost my way. Instead, I spent hours on social media, reading Twitter posts and checking the social media feeds from the Proxima Foundation. I was restless, waiting for Brenda to come home, sometimes after two in the morning. I found myself drinking a bottle of wine per night. Not good.

  On Tuesday, my phone chimed with an email message. It was Marcus, my old boss at Hot Reports. He wanted to know if I’d be interested in doing a contract investigative story, and if so, whether I could come to the office on Monday to discuss it. I thought it over, my head cloudy from alcohol, I wasn’t employed, I hadn’t made any progress on the podcast idea. I thought for a moment more, then emailed Marcus that I’d see him on Monday.

  I told Brenda about the call from Marcus the next morning.

  She looked at me for a moment. “What about the podcast?”

  “I can’t concentrate. I need the structure of writing an article.”

  “And the cell towers? You can’t stop now.”

  “No one said I was stopping. I just need some structure and money.”

  “Are you coming back?” The old distrust reared its ugly head in her face.

  “Of course. I want to be here for the Solstice arrival event, for sure. I just need to get my head on straight.”

  I tried to hug her, but she pushed me away.

  “If you need to go, then go!”

  On Friday, I packed up the Jetta and headed for Seattle.

  38: Return to Seattle

  Friday night in Seattle I was having a second round of beers with Brett at Jonesy’s. Brett belched and asked me why I wasn’t shacking up with him and not Brenda.

  “I needed to get out of there,” I said. “I’m not sure she really wanted me hanging around, anyway.” Was that true? I wasn’t sure, but didn’t want to get into it with him.

  Brett sipped his beer. “She’s hot, man. You’re crazy.”

  Maybe he was right about me being crazy, but I needed to clear my head after all I’d been through with the Byrnes.

  “What’s with the beanie? No mountain to ski on in Ballard, man.”

  “It’s EMF shielded, made out of silver. It’s supposed to block ninety percent of microwave frequencies.”

  “You sure it works?” Brett asked.

  “I think so. I watched some tests on YouTube.”

  “Well, if YouTube says so.” Brett leveled his eyes on me then removed his Carhart cap and flipped it upside down, revealing its tin foil lining.

  I smiled. “No way! How long have you had that in there?”

  “Since 2010, after I got back from Iraq.”

  “Shit, dude, I had no idea.” For some reason, it made me feel better.

  “You’ve got to design it right or you’ll end up making it work more like an antenna, causing a buildup of radio energy. It will fry your brain.”

  “I know,” I said, “I saw it on YouTube.” I grinned at him.

  He looked at me with a little smile.

  “Of course, you did. Let’s do a shot,” Brett said, hailing the bartender.

  The TV above the bar switched to a live special report about a UFO sighting over Seattle. A large formation of lights had been tracked over the ocean, then come down the coast before flying over Vancouver and then Seattle before flying over the Washington state capital in Olympia, then down the Oregon coast. Everyone at the bar had their eyes glued to the screen.

  “You think it was real?” A young woman at the end of the bar asked her friend reading Twitter feeds on her phone.

  “Probably the new Air Force bomber flying down from Alaska,” Brett said to me, his eyes still on the screen.

  “Maybe,” I said, “or maybe it’s not real at all. Can’t trust mainstream media.”

  The bartender topped off our glasses with Patron Silver.

  Brett looked at his glass. “Well, hair of the alien ball sack,” he said, taking the shot, then slamming the glass onto the bar.

  I rolled the shot glass betw
een my fingers. “This will help my nanobot cleanse, right?” I threw it back.

  At closing time, we headed out into the cold drizzle. “You’re not still freaked out by the windsock man, are you, man?” Brett asked as we headed down the alley past the windsock.

  “Not going to happen,” I said, pulling my beanie tighter.

  At his building, Brett embraced me in a drunken bro hug. “Good to see you again, man.”

  “You too,” I said. I meant it. Brett was a good friend for letting me shack up at his place again until I figured out what to do next. That night, I drunk-dialed Brenda.

  She let the phone ring a long time. “Did you just get off shift?” I asked, trying to sound like everything was okay between us.

  “Are you drunk?” she asked.

  “I’ve had a few. I wanted to hear your voice and say that I think I love you. I really do.”

  There was a pause. “Really? I can’t believe you are telling me this. You took off. I thought you were going to… Never mind. I don’t know why I waste my time on you.”

  “Hold on,” I pleaded, “I mean it. I love you and want to see you again.”

  “Yeah? When?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “What about the arrival event on the Solstice? Did you forget about that? What about your investigation?”

  “I’m going to meet with my old editor at Hot Reports on Monday.”

  “Maybe a story about The Lochness Monster?” she sneered.

  “I love your sarcasm, I really do.”

  “Whatever, Ben. I’ve got to go.”

  Drunk-dialing never works out.

  I went downtown to the Hot Reports offices. Marcus met me and shook my hand, then led me to his office.

  “What’s with the beanie hat?” he asked, sipping his Starbucks and inspecting me through his hipster glasses.

  I pointed to my EMF shielding hat. “This?” I was hesitant to mention my reasons. “It was really cold out in Montana.”

 

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