Posts Tagged ‘Paranormal’

 OBSERVATION RESUMES

 When they reached the hotel, Richard tipped the cabbie generously and entered the lobby. When the doorman stepped in front of him, Richard resisted the temptation to test the powers he supposedly now had. Instead, he asked for the concierge who, recognizing Richard as a five star guest, personally showed him to one of the hotel’s best suites. Richard asked for a razor, and to have the hotel’s personal shopper sent to his room in an hour.

As soon as he was alone, he poured himself a stiff drink. After downing it in a single swallow, he picked up the phone to call Nadine. Given the time difference, she’d most likely be at the university so he called her private line there. It rang through to voicemail. So did her cell. Richard couldn’t think of anything he could say in a one-minute message that would make the least bit of sense. He was going to call the university switchboard and have her paged, but decided he’d shower first. After all, as far as his wife knew, he was still in the middle of the Central American jungle. It wasn’t like she’d be worried about him.

Going into the bathroom, he started the water in the shower, stripped down and stepped in. He leaned both hands against the wall and just let the hot, steamy water run over him for a few minutes. He was just beginning to feel something close to normal again when he heard a giggle behind him. Turning, Richard saw Alea Chantal, as naked as he was, standing provocatively in the corner. “Hey,” he exclaimed, suppressing the urge to cover himself with his hands.

Alea Chantal laughed, moved toward him. At which point Richard realized that even though she might be naked, she wasn’t wet. “Very good, Richard,” she said. “I’m simply taking advantage of the mist in the air and the way your eye processes light to create an image of myself.” Then she glanced down, smiling broadly. “But thank you for the compliment.” Richard blushed. A disembodied throat-clearing from Sarsoneth broke the moment, and Alea Chantal continued. “We promised to begin to answer your questions, Richard. When you finish your shower, grab that second drink you wanted and meet us in the grove.” She disappeared.

“Meet you in the grove,” Richard repeated. “How the hell do I do that?”

Alea Chantal’s face reappeared. “Same as before, silly. Only this time, you don’t have to wait for Faloneth to knock you out. Just make yourself comfortable and we’ll do the rest.” She blinked out again.

Richard soaped up, scrubbed down and rinsed off. Stepping out of the shower, he towelled himself dry and put on the hotel-provided bathrobe. As he returned to the suite’s living room, there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find the personal shopper, who he invited in. It only took a few minutes for her to take his measurements and to make a list of the clothes and personal articles Richard wanted. He also asked her to book him on the first available flight back to the US.

After she left, Richard went back to the bar and opened the fridge. There was a decent selection of beer from a number of British and European brewers. He reached for a German brand. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Alea Chantal’s voice complained. “We’re in London. It’s got to be a Guinness.”

Richard picked up the black and gold can. “You do know Guinness is Irish, right?” When Alea Chantal didn’t answer, he shrugged and popped the can open. After taking a swallow, he picked up the phone and tried calling Nadine again, and again got no answer. He still didn’t want to worry her by leaving a message with a London telephone number. Instead, he called Thomas Jackson, his colleague and best friend. Jackson didn’t answer either, but Richard left him the number at the hotel and asked him to call as soon as he could. Richard knew his friend well enough to know that he’d be more curious than worried. Then he walked to the sofa and made himself comfortable. He was just about to ask what to do next when the room faded out and the now-familiar grove took its place.   

“Welcome back, Richard,” Alea Chantal said cheerily. Richard noticed that she was holding what seemed to be his can of beer. She saw the direction of his glance. “What? A girl can’t enjoy a good beverage?” she protested. Taking a long pull at the Guinness, she added. “God that tastes good. Not that I don’t appreciate the scotch you usually drink Richard, but there’s just nothin’ like a good stout f’r a gal raised in the pubs, y’know?” She took another swallow, belched; looked sheepish.

“Indeed. The sophistication of your palate is beyond question, my dear. Not to mention that you are French, not English.” Richard turned toward the second voice and saw Sarsoneth for the first time. The man was considerably older than Alea Chantal. She appeared to be in her early twenties. Richard would have guessed Sarsoneth was at least sixty. He was dressed in some sort of loose-fitting robe or toga or something but from what Richard could tell, he appeared to be in excellent physical condition. The most striking thing about him however, was his height. At six foot one, Richard wasn’t accustomed to having to look up to meet someone’s gaze. Sarsoneth, however, had at least six inches on him.

“In the days when we first arrived,” Sarsoneth said, picking up on Richard’s unspoken thought, “the difference was even more striking.”

“I knew it,” Richard exclaimed. “You’re aliens.”

Alea Chantal placed a hand on her hip, struck a pose, and protested, “Not me bud. I am all girl.” After a brief pause, she added, “He’s the bug-eyed monster.”

Sarsoneth sat on a boulder, gave Alea Chantal a long-suffering look, and sighed. Addressing Richard, he said, “Although ‘alien’ would be technically correct in my case, Richard, both Alea Chantal and I, at least the original, living versions of us, are, or were, your ancestors.”

Richard looked from one to the other. “You’re ghosts?”

“More like memories, Richard,” Alea Chantal chipped in. “Very, very vivid memories.”

Richard picked up a stone, threw it into the lake, watched the ripples spread out. “Pretty damn solid memories; especially since I’ve never been to this place before in my life.”

“Not only your memories, Richard; our memories as well. Indeed, the memories of all of your ancestors are available to you. Everything that happened to each of your forebears up to the moment that they passed their genetic material on to the next generation is part of what my people call the d’na’tnek.”

Richard thought about that for a few minutes. He knew a little bit about the theory that memory could be passed from one generation to another just like physical traits such as red hair or a talent for math. “What about lifting the jeep, and fixing my arm? How does that work?”

“As with the ability to access the d’na’tnek,” Sarsoneth replied,” there comes a point in the evolution of a race when they begin to be able to manipulate the power generated by the planet itself. Humanity is reaching that point. It is Awakening.”

Richard had an idea. “Okay, so you’re saying that all the stories about faith healers, or people who had visions, or witches, or whatever … they were all really some kind of mutants?”

Alea Chantal laughed. “Awakening, Richard. Or evolving, if you’d prefer a human term. It’s a lot more complicated than that, but you need to understand what’s going on and where you fit in first.”

“When my people came to Earth, Richard,” Sarsoneth continued, “we were the last, shattered remnants of a once-proud race. Too proud. Our arrogance had led us to turn on each other to our utter destruction. Even the truce that allowed a few of us to reach your planet lasted barely long enough to complete the journey.”

The grove faded out momentarily and Richard saw what was obviously a spaceship descending toward a broad plain. When it had settled to the ground, doors opened and scores of men and women – four hundred and fifty nine, a memory whispered to him – emerged from the ship. Some gathered in the meadow around the landing site while others immediately took to the air and scattered. The scene faded.

“That was over ten thousand years ago, Richard. While those of my faction, the Ethicals, sought to aid mankind’s development, those like Faloneth, the Disaffected, sought only to dominate and control. Though there are only a few left, they still do. They must be stopped before humanity fully Awakens.”

Richard considered. “What about your group? The Ethicals?”

Alea Chantal jumped in before Sarsoneth could answer. “They’re no better, Richard. Their methods are different but they want the same thing.”

“Which is?” Richard asked.

“To control humanity’s Awakening. It’s the only chance they have of rebuilding their race; by using us.”

“How many Ethicals are there? Which side is winning?”

“There are only a handful of either,” replied Alea Chantal. We’re not sure how many. But even one is too many Richard. ”

Remembering what Faloneth had been able to do to, Richard tended to agree. Still ….

He’d been leaning against a tree during most of the discussion. Now he pushed himself off. “It seems like you’ve been at each other’s throats for a long time. Humanity’s still here and the bad guys are dying off. I think I’ll just leave you all to it, and go back to my life. If one of you could just point me at my hotel room, I’ll be on my way.”

Sarsoneth started to say something about destiny and responsibility, but Alea Chantal stepped closer to Richard and put her hand on his arm. “Richard, Faloneth killed Nadine.”

Richard spun toward Alea Chantal in shock when the phone rang and he found himself back on the sofa. Dazedly, he noticed that the can of Guinness was empty. 

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

 Enquiry Response: The Member is correct. The Sarsoneth Construct is deliberately withholding information from Richard. That it is capable of such action is without precedent. One of the tasks of this Panel is to determine if this is a characteristic to be nurtured, or if it signifies an aberration requiring sterilization.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

OBSERVATION RESUMES

As Richard regained his senses, he realized that he was seated in a chair of some kind. When he tried to raise his hand to his head, he discovered that his wrists were locked to the chair’s arms. A tentative movement of his legs confirmed that his ankles were similarly restrained.

Acting on Alea Chantal and Sarsoneth’s directions, he began to visually survey the room. He hadn’t gotten much past identifying it as a laboratory of some kind, however, before he was distracted by a voice. The woman he’d seen on the trail in Central America stepped into view. “Well, Richard, you led us a bit of a chase.” She looked to Richard’s left and added, “More of a chase than I had anticipated.”

Richard turned his head to follow her gaze, saw Carlos standing in the corner of the room. He seemed unnaturally rigid, and his expression made it clear he was in considerable pain. Richard wasn’t particularly sympathetic. “Hey buddy,” he said fliply. “I’d offer to shake hands but, well, I’m kinda tied up.” He looked back at the woman, decided to play dumb. Which still wasn’t all that far from the truth anyway. “Listen lady, your stooge over there got what you wanted. I don’t like people who vandalize ruins, but what’s done is done. I hope you make a bundle on the black market for that trinket. If you’ll just let me go, I promise I’ll be on my way and we’ll forget the whole thing, okay?”

The woman laughed. “Even were I a mere human fool like Carlos, I would not be taken in by such a patently false statement. Would you not seek justice for your murdered friends? Redress for the … trinket as you call it that you have lost? Besides Richard, although the d’na’nish is indeed a great prize, and I thank you for leading me to it, it does indeed pale almost to a ‘trinket’ beside you. No Richard, we shall not be parting company any time soon. So you need not continue your pretence at innocence. It is pointless.”

“Damn it lady,” Richard yelled. “Like I told that asshole in the corner, this is no pretence. Who the hell do you think I am? I’m no prize. I’m an archaeologist, trying to dig up some old ruins in the middle of the jungle. I’m not rich. No one is going to pay a ransom for me.”

She ignored his outburst, other than to say, “Ransom. An amusing idea.” She looked at him clinically, put a hand to his jaw, turning his head from side to side. “Not Malineth’s work. He doesn’t have the skill to blend the physical aspects so well. He always ended up with deformed limbs or some similar shortcoming.” She smiled at Richard. “I assume that you were not born with scaled arms, nor grew horns and a tail when you reached puberty?” At Richard’s blank stare she laughed. “No, I did not think so. Definitely not Malineth then; although he did create some interesting hybrids. You have no doubt seen representations of Anubis. Although I preferred Horus myself. I am partial to birds.” She seemed to be considering.

“Hashipaleth perhaps? She was always quite clever at unlocking the psychic elements. No doubt, one of hers would have been able to misdirect a weak mind like Carlos’.” She let of Richard, stepped back. “Well, enough speculation.” Her gaze fixed on Richard’s eyes. They seemed hypnotic. “Who created you Richard? Who is your Lord or Lady? Who do you obey?”

For a moment, Richard felt like he was getting lost in those eyes. Then he seemed to break free of whatever she was trying to do, and answered defiantly. “Created me? Mr. and Mrs. Redmond created me. After a rather rambunctious New Year’s Eve party as I recall the story. The only lady I listen to is my wife; and I wish the hell I’d ‘obeyed’ her and not come on this damn dig.”

The woman ignored his defiance, continued to lock gazes with him a few moments longer. Then she turned away scowling. “Amazing. Your will is strong Richard. It is almost Yannoneth in magnitude. I have never encountered a human, engineered or otherwise, who could resist me for even a moment. Perhaps I was a trifle harsh with Carlos after all.” She flicked a glance at the corner where her flunky still stood motionless. He immediately gasped and sank to the ground, as if released from some sort of paralysis.

When she turned back to Richard, he could see that she was holding something in her hand that be a crystal of some sort. “This device will make you more …amenable … to my requests Richard. You should be flattered; never before has there been need to use it on a human. It can, however, have unpleasant side effects. Permanent ones. I would prefer to have my answers without damaging you. So I ask you one more time – who do you serve?”

Richard shook his head, struggled against his restraints. “I told you damn it, I don’t serve anyone. I’m an archaeologist. I dig in the dirt. That’s all.”

The woman shook her head. “I am sorry Richard. We both know that is not the truth. You are much too powerful. I need to know how that power was created, and by whom. I need to make it mine.”

“Make it yours? Why? Who the hell are you?”

“I am Faloneth, the most powerful of the Yannoneth. I must have the secret of your genesis because it will aid me in achieving my destiny.”

“What destiny would that be?” Richard asked.

She looked at him contemptuously. “Why to rule of course. To be worshipped. To hold the life, and death, of everyone and everything in my hand.” And with that she reached out and placed the crystal on Richard’s forehead.

This was getting tedious he thought, as he felt consciousness slipping away again.

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: The Member is correct; sentience capable of utilizing Energy should not be capable of the megalomania evident in Faloneth’s statement. This aberration is a result of the Setback.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

• you were the genetically engineered champion of an ancient race?
• it was your destiny to prevent the aliens who had destroyed their world from taking over the human race?

What if -

• to help you, this ancient race had given you two “mentors” who existed only in your head …
• and, the memories of every single one of your ancestors …
• and, the ability to use the energy of the Earth itself, giving you “super” powers?

What if you had spent most of your life totally unaware or any of this?

This is the situation Richard Redmond finds himself in.  Who can he trust? Who should he believe? How does he learn to use his new-found abilities? What secrets will the memories of his ancestors reveal? Richard has to find a way to make sense of an impossible situation. Before it kills him.

Revelation – Richard Redmond (read it or subsrcibe to the podcast) 

What if -

all of the gods and goddesses of myth; all of the legends of Atlantis, Mu and other ancient civilizations; all of the stories of psychic powers and superheroes; all of the whispers of secret societies and global conspiracies

– what if they were not only true, but had a single origin?

Read the Prologue – (find out how it all came to be).

OBSERVATION RESUMES

When Richard came to, he was sitting on a wooded hill overlooking a mountain lake, with his back resting against a pine tree. He could smell the tree sap, and the scent of wildflowers that he could see dotting the slope down to the water was heavy in the air. A bird sang in a tree and he tilted his head upward, looking for it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Peaceful.” Richard snapped his head around toward the voice and for the first time saw Alea Chantal. She was beautiful. Long golden hair worn loosely around her shoulders; athletic but “well rounded” as his dad used to say; dressed in clothes that reminded Richard of those French Renaissance period pieces that Nadine loved, with full skirt and frilly bodice. Not too tall;  Richard doubted that she’d come close to his six foot one.

Alea Chantal laughed. Not sarcastically. She curtsied. “Why thank you, good sir. ‘Tis a comely description of me that ye’ve offered and I most graciously accept it. You did not, however, answer the question. Isn’t this one of the most peaceful places you’ve ever been?” For emphasis, she made a sweeping gesture that took in the woods, the lake, and the mountain rising in the background; extended it into a pirouette than made her skirt billow out and her hair fly. She ended where she’d started, arms wrapped around herself and facing Richard.

He looked at Alea Chantal, then at the view. He sighed. Then he stood up, walking toward her. “Yes, it’s beautiful; and peaceful. It’s also completely impossible. What’s going on? Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? A minute ago I was in Central America. This …” Richard stopped.

Alea Chantal finished his sentence. “… is France. Or at least, it’s a part of France that I knew. Once upon a time.” She sighed. “Richard, there’s so much that you need to know, and not much time to tell you. You weren’t supposed to Awaken this way. It was the d’na’nish of course. It attracted the attention of one of the Yannoneth. We don’t know which one yet. It was that woman of course. Once they homed in on what you call the artefact, it was inevitable that they’d get wind of you.”

Richard held up a hand. “Stop. Just stop. You’re not making any sense. If I’m not delirious, and I still think that’s the most likely explanation, then how the hell did I get … here?” He gestured at their surroundings.

Alea Chantal’s annoyance flared up again and was evident in her reply. “You’re not delirious Richard. You really do need to let go of that whole denial thing. There’s …”

The voice of Sarsoneth, seemingly coming from the trees overhead, broke in. “Alea Chantal. He knows. You know that he does. Let him come to acceptance in his own way.”

Alea Chantal locked gazes with Richard for a moment, seemed to find something that satisfied her. “Well. Alright then. I guess I’ve been cooped up with this Ethical (she made a motion with her head toward the trees that Richard took to indicate that she meant Sarsoneth) so long that I’ve lost the knack for subtlety. It’s not their strong suit you know.”

Listening to this byplay, Richard realized that Sarsoneth was right. He did know that whatever was happening was real. He didn’t know how or why yet, but he was damned well going to find out. Richard was used to being in control of whatever situation he was in. This sense of being carried along like a cork in a flood didn’t sit well. He spoke up. “What’s an Ethical?”

Alea Chantal made a rude noise. “The most irritating, annoying, frustrating, self-righteous…”

Sarsoneth again interrupted her. “Alea Chantal’s opinion notwithstanding, Richard, I would suggest that we have more pressing matters to deal with. You are not as safe as the appearance of this place would seem to indicate.”

“… and they interrupt a lot too,” Alea Chantal concluded. “However, he’s right. This place isn’t what it seems. You asked how you got from Central America to France, Richard. Well, the truth is you didn’t. We’re not sure where you are. You’ve been unconscious since you first spotted that Yannoneth bitch. This place, and for that matter Sarsoneth and I, are inside your head. Always have been.”

Richard stared at her. Then he walked over to a tree, tore off some bark and shook it at Alea Chantal. “Make up your damn mind. I just accepted I wasn’t delusional. Now you tell me it’s all in my head? No way. This,” and he shook the bark again, “is not my imagination.”

Alea Chantal sighed. “I’m sorry, Richard. It’s not easy to explain. But you really are in terrible danger, and we really do want to help.” She took a deep breath. “We’re in the d’na’tnek. What you might think of as genetic memory. Every memory of every ancestor in your family tree is stored here, scattered throughout the DNA that makes you who you are.”

“This doesn’t feel like a memory,” Richard countered stubbornly.

“No, the d’na’tnek is much more, and we’re using it in a way that I’m not sure even the Twelve would recognize.”

“Who?” Richard asked.

“Alea Chantal,” Sarsoneth’s cautioning voice interjected.

“I know, I know. Richard, we’ll answer all of your questions. Later. I promise. Right now, we need to get you away from the Yannoneth. To do that, we need your help. She’s going to bring you around in a few minutes. We need you to observe as much as you can. You are our eyes and ears remember. Then, when you lose consciousness again, we can bring you back here and decide what to do.”

“Why don’t you just use your magical powers like you did last time?” Richard asked.

Alea Chantal smiled ruefully at the sarcasm in his voice. “First, they’re not ‘our’ powers, Richard, they’re yours. Second, at the moment we’re kind of hiding out here while you, to all appearances, are lying peacefully in a cell or a box or something, no doubt snoring like every man I ever met. We do know that your body is not under any physical duress.

“Richard, it’s absolutely essential that Yannoneth bitch doesn’t suspect that either Sarsoneth or I exist. If that were to happen, everything the Twelve have been working toward for millennia would be undone. Humanity’s future would be over.”

Richard was going to say something about being overdramatic when everything started to fade, starting with the mountain and moving inward to where he and Alea Chantal were standing. She reached a hand out toward him as she took on a ghost-like transparency.

Sarsoneth’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. “Remember Richard. Observe everything. Reveal nothing. The Yannoneth must not discover your true nature or that we exist.”

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: Regarding the Member’s comment on Sarsoneth and Alea Chantal. Yes, I am aware that fully self-aware mental constructs are not standard operating procedure within genetic memory. This was identified in the Observation filed under the title Danaerean Prologue, which I have previously recommended for Concurrent review.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

OBSERVATION RESUMES

When Richard didn’t immediately respond, two other men, holding what were obviously weapons, though they were unfamiliar to Richard, stepped out of the shadows at the edge of the camp. Where the man who had spoken was well over six feet and muscular, with a swarthy complexion, these two were considerably shorter, stocky rather than muscular, and so pale that Richard wondered how they managed to stand the Central American sun. All three were dressed in clothing that was pretty standard for the jungle, with the odd exception that it seemed to glisten for some reason, almost as if there were metallic threads in the material. The two armed men levelled their weapons in Richard’s direction but the first man held up his hand and they relaxed into an at-ease posture.

As Richard continued to hesitate, the woman’s voice came again. It sounded like she was whispering in his ear. “Stall him Richard. We have an idea.”

When a situation is beyond insane, there are really only two choices – go looking for the rubber room, or accept things as they are and try to make sense of them later. Richard opted for the latter. He stepped out from behind the debris that had concealed him, still holding his gun. “What the hell do you want?” he demanded angrily. “Who the hell are you?”

When the two men flanking the speaker saw the gun, they began to bring their own weapons to bear, but the speaker again stopped them, and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a projectile weapon; a .45 if I’m not mistaken. What harm do you think it could do?”

He addressed Richard directly again. “Please Richard. Let’s not waste time on pretence shall we? We both know that there’s no point in that between such as you and I.”

“You and I? What the hell are you talking about? How do you know my name? Where are my people?” Richard was still pointing the gun at the man who was speaking. He started to move toward the body on the ground. He could see that it wasn’t Jaimie, but one of the labourers they’d hired to help with the digging. He could also see that the man was obviously dead. He stopped, and the other man spoke again.

“Why do you insist on continuing this farce Richard? You must have sensed who I am by now, what I am. We are equals you and I. And these two are of no consequence. They are only human. However, they swear allegiance to my Lady. There is no need to conceal your true nature here. Let us speak freely, as befits two who serve the Yannoneth.”

Richard had no clue what the guy was talking about. True nature? Who were the Yannoneth? He seemed to think Richard was part of some gang. Again, the woman whispered invisibly into his ear. “Just keep him talking Richard. We’re almost ready. Time for explanations later. We promise, okay? The less Carlos – that’s the talkative one’s name – knows about you, the better.” She seemed to fade away again, with a last “Keep him talking” wafting back like a rustle in the wind.

“Carlos” spoke again. “Your discovery of the d’na’nish,” and at the mention of the name, he bowed deferentially in the direction of the artefact, “was quite an accomplishment, Richard. Not even my Lady knew where it was. She had come to believe that all memory of it had been lost from the d’na’tnek. Obviously there was a genealogical offshoot that was not recorded.”

Gibberish, Richard thought. He decided to try to shake the other’s composure while stalling for whatever his disembodied friends were doing. “A danish? You couldn’t come up with a better name than that, Carlos? It was you and your buddies who planted it here I take it? Looks like a bad prop from a cheesy sci-fi flick.”

Carlos looked troubled for just a second, glanced toward the artefact, looked back at Richard and laughed. “Very good, Richard. I am not easily caught off guard. But we both know the d’na’nish is genuine. I can feel its power even in this state. And you made a second mistake.”

“Which was?”

“My name, of course. You used my name. There was no way for you to know that unless you are the same as I. Now, shall we dispense…” His voice seemed to deepen, slow; then it trailed off entirely. He and his two companions stopped moving. So did everything around them. The trees stopped rustling in the wind. The fire burning in the ruined tent seemed to be nailed to the air. All sound ceased. Richard gaped.

“The jeep, Richard. Get into the jeep.” The woman’s voice was urgent, demanding. “Make it snappy. We can only keep you accelerated for a few seconds. And as soon as you start the jeep, you’re back in objective time.”

“I…” was all Richard could choke out, staring at the world around him, a world that had suddenly become a still picture.

“Please, Richard.” It was the man’s voice. “Much depends on your survival. You must hurry. The world has not stopped; we have compressed time for you. Carlos will realize quickly what has happened. He may be able to counter our action, although I did not sense that he has that skill. Once you have escaped, we will have time to help you to understand. For now, as Alea Chantal says, the jeep must be our goal.”

Not being able to think of any alternative action, Richard ran to the jeep, jumped in, and turned the key. As soon as the engine roared to life, so did the rest of the world. As Richard slammed the jeep into gear and gunned the engine, he spared a glance over his shoulder. The two armed men were preparing to fire on Richard but for the third time Carlos stopped them. He pointed at the truck on the other side of the compound and the two men ran to it while Carlos moved toward the artefact.

That was all the time Richard could spare in looking backward. He manoeuvred the jeep onto the trail that had been hacked through the jungle between the camp and the river landing. If he could get enough of a lead on Carlos, he might be able to get to the landing, get the barge untied, and get far enough from shore that they couldn’t reach him. Since Carlos seemed determined not to kill him that just might be enough for him to get away.

He drove as fast as he dared on the treacherous track. That it wasn’t fast enough became evident as a bolt of some kind of energy streamed past the jeep and scorched a tree just ahead of him. Richard yelled and glanced behind.

Carlos sat in the middle of the truck seat, holding a bag that, Richard assumed, must contain the artefact. One of his companions was driving the truck while the other leaned out of the passenger side and aimed his weapon. Richard thought Carlos must have changed his mind about killing him until he realized they weren’t actually aiming at him but at the trees ahead. They were trying to block the trail. The bouncing of the truck made any attempt at an accurate shot a wild chance at best, but sooner or later they were bound to get lucky.

Richard turned back to the front, considering his options while trying to go faster without wrecking the jeep. There was a sharp turn up ahead where the trail ran along a cliff. If his pursuers weren’t as familiar with the trail as he was, they might not be aware how close it was. He might be able to make it at this speed, but he was pretty sure that the heavier truck wouldn’t. If he was lucky, they’d skid off the path and go over the cliff. At the very least, maybe he could slow them down; give himself more of a lead to get to the landing.

Richard deliberately slowed down for a few seconds to let the truck gain on him as he approached the cliff. Then he gunned the engine in the hope that his pursuers would do the same in order not to lose the distance they’d closed. He wanted them going as fast as possible. When he got to the turn he geared down, spun the steering wheel left, and then floored it. The jeep roared, the wheels spun, dirt and gravel spewed in all directions. Richard held his breath and hung on. The edge of the cliff was sickeningly close, but the jeep stayed on the road.

Once he was safely around the turn, he let off on the gas and looked back to see how the truck had fared. He had been right – the heavier vehicle hadn’t been able to take the turn the way the jeep had. It had overshot the road. But it hadn’t crashed into the jungle below. It hadn’t crashed at all. It was just hanging there, in mid-air, about ten feet beyond the trail. Carlos was gripping the dash, the bag holding the artefact still on his lap, a look of intense concentration on his face.

Richard couldn’t believe his eyes. He just stared, transfixed by the sight. That was his undoing.

The jeep, still moving, hit a rock in the trail, bounced to the right. Richard whipped around, attempted to regain control. It was too late.

The last thing he saw was a mass of green and brown jungle coming up to meet him as the jeep plunged over the edge.

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: Regarding the Member’s comment on Richard’s surprise at the vehicular levitation. Although humanity does utilize both ground and air transport, the principles involved are purely mechanical. There is no utilization of the Energy which the Danaereans named g’ru’tnok. I realize that the Setback may be causing discontinuity. Please make every effort to experience this Observation in linear time to avoid confusion.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download