Читать книгу Sedona Conspiracy - James C Glass - Страница 11

CHAPTER EIGHT

REVELATIONS

There was little he could do in the way of a plan, but in two days he organized the existing laboratory data into a coherent state through graphical display in three dimensions. Stress tolerances and conductivities were shown as colored surfaces superimposed on an external drawing of the aircraft, and he added a red, variable surface showing applied stress from the wind tunnel work. There were no anomalies to be seen, the aircraft perfectly designed mechanically up to mach-one, but like a bumblebee it was totally unstable aerodynamically, another fly-by-wire design. The cantilevered section aft remained a total mystery to him, and was first on a list of questions included in his report for Davis if he was ever allowed on the base again.

He didn’t have to worry about it for long. It was nine in the morning, his second day in the little office near the south edge of town. Once upon a time it had been a workingman’s bar, and Leon swore that in the heat of summer the walls sweated beer, the odor impossible to get rid of.

Eric was proofing the final draft of his report when the telephone rang. Leon hadn’t arrived yet, so Eric answered the call.

“World Arts, this is Eric Price, how may I help you?

“You can do what you were sent here to do. This is Colonel Davis. You’ve got what you want, but I’m still going to watch you like a hawk. Two days, oh-five-hundred. Be ready to impress me.”

The line went dead before Eric could say a word.

How I love the sound of an arrogant man who has just been given a new asshole by a superior, he thought. I just hope they didn’t tell him everything about me. A person thinking they’re dealing with a common field agent is the best protection I can have.

For a moment, he enjoyed a kind of smugness over his victory. Gil had done it again.

Leon arrived at ten, and Eric told him what had happened.

“There you are, see? There was nothing at all to get upset about. Everything’s going to be fine.” He removed his jacket and hung it carefully over the back of his chair before sitting down at his computer. He pointed at Eric, and said, “Today, I will show you how to sell art, or to at least appear to be doing it. When you’re done with your military thingy, I have a list of dummy galleries to go over with you.”

Again the floppy wrist and affected speech, but Eric had already been with the man long enough to know it was all a lie.

The phone rang again a few minutes later, but this time Leon answered it. “Oh, hi,” he said. “I bet you want to talk to Eric. He’s right here. Hold on.” He put a hand over the receiver, and whispered.

“John Coulter. Just play along, and meet him. I’ll explain later.”

Eric picked up the phone. Leon did not hang up, listened with his hand over the receiver.

“Eric Price. How may I help you?”

“John Coulter, Mister Price. We met at the Nataly Hegel party, and shared an appreciation for the cheese knishes at the buffet, remember?”

“Oh, yes. Leon introduced us.”

“Leon and I go back a couple of years. We share an interest in pistols, and also in art.”

“Are you a collector?”

“Not really. I’m in imports and exports, Mister Price, a wide range of products, including art, and even guns on occasion.”

The hair bristled on the back of Eric’s neck, and Leon raised an eyebrow at him.

“Guns?”

“Well, sporting weapons, really, but paramilitary favorites as well, all semi-automatic, of course. I’m interested in anything that can be sold abroad, Mister Price, and I’d like to acquaint you with my connections. I think I can provide some fine markets for you. Can we meet over coffee or lunch sometime and discuss it?”

Leon was nodding vigorously at him.

“Of course. Lunch would be best. How about the Coffee Pot?”

“This Wednesday—at noon?”

“Fine. I’ve put it down, Mister Coulter. See you then.”

They hung up. Leon smiled. “Nicely done, short and sweet. Now, when you meet, be a good listener and you’ll discover a new element in this mystery you’re here to solve. It seems our dear Colonel Davis also has friends in the commercial sector who are most anxious to get their hands on the new technology we’ve acquired. They’ve made him a lucrative offer, and Davis has offered me in turn a generous stipend to aid him in his quest for wealth. Can you imagine the audacity of the man in bribing a federal employee and patriotic citizen such as me? I have accepted his offer, of course. John Coulter will eventually present to you a similar offer, if you seem willing, and you will be willing. If John is liaison to the commercial interests involved with Davis, we might learn the identity of the people or companies involved and turn the information over to Gil for whatever action he wants to take. And from the look in your eyes right now you might even want that assignment. Death to those who commit treason, and all that.”

“Davis should have been turned in for court-martial as soon as you discovered this,” said Eric.

“Ah, but we need him, at least for the moment. First things first, Eric; first the saboteurs, then the technology, then those who’d like to steal it. Interesting, don’t you think? And you also get to go to nice parties and meet beautiful women.”

“Stop it, Leon. I don’t need the act.”

Leon laughed, turned back to his desk, and they worked the rest of the morning in silence. When Eric finished proofing his report for Davis it was nearly noon. Leon had brought a sack lunch, and was deeply engrossed in his work. Eric was hungry. “Think I’ll hit the deli at the grocery store,” he said, and Leon didn’t even look up.

Safeway was several blocks away, Nataly’s shop three blocks closer, and the impulse, when it came, was overwhelming. Eric didn’t fight it, pulled into the little parking lot in front of New Visions. A few cars were there, Arizona plates, Phoenix area. The front window display featured museum-quality crystal clusters, Tibetan singing bowls and dream catchers the size of dinner plates. When he opened the door a dozen exotic scents, sweet and musky, assailed him. A pretty, young girl in a sleeveless, silk blouse and peasant skirt smiled at him from behind the counter as she checked out another customer. Golden hoops dangled from her ears, stretching the lobes, and a small, white crystal glistened from the right side of her nose.

It seemed at first that Nataly wasn’t there, and Eric didn’t dare to ask for her. He wandered around the shop like any other customer. Glass shelves held little boxes with crystal and mineral specimens; he paused to examine several of them. Locked cabinets held larger, pricier pieces, many of them scepters of clear quartz and amethyst, and a red garnet the size of a baseball. Incense sticks hung in bags on a wall, near a display of burners, black sand, charcoal disks and little pouches filled with nuggets of frankincense, myrrh and Egyptian musk. Angelic choir music came softly from two speakers in the back corners of the shop where shelves were lined with books on alternative religions, mythology and UFOs. Several related to strange sightings in the Sedona area. Eric pulled one from the shelf and had begun leafing through it when a soft touch on his elbow made him jump.

Nataly was standing next to him, very close, looking up at him with fathomless eyes.

“That’s a very interesting book,” she said. “Bob Terrell has written a series of them. You might want to meet him sometime. He’s local.”

Eric pretended to study the book. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen a UFO and, quite frankly, I don’t think they exist if we’re talking about little green men. People do see strange things, I admit, but I think they’re all natural phenomena if you take the time to figure them out.

“Ah, a skeptic,” said Nataly. “That’s good when you’re seeking the truth, but even scientists are trained to keep an open mind about the possibilities. Terrell’s like that; he reports what people have seen, and suggests possible explanations for each case. And it’s not just UFOs that he talks about.”

She reached across him and pulled another book from the shelf. “Here, this one is about the military base we think is still somewhere in the backcountry here. No little green men in this one.” Her eyes twinkled, her smile playful as she handed the book to him.

Eric felt a shock, and hoped it didn’t reach his eyes. He opened the book, leafed through it and saw no pictures.

“People have seen black Humvees, black helicopters that make no sound, even armed military people in the backcountry. Some of the encounters have been hostile, people turned back on hiking trails. Years ago there was a huge fire in the backcountry beyond Boynton Canyon. The Sedona fire department went out to fight it and were turned back by armed soldiers dressed in black, and the fire burned on for several days, maybe weeks.”

“I’m not aware of any restricted air space around here,” said Eric.

“It’s not necessary if the base is underground.”

Eric forced a chuckle. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry; it doesn’t make sense to me. A secret base so close to a major tourist center is even too stupid for the military.”

Her dark eyes moved slightly, as if scanning his face, then made solid eye contact and held him there. A slight pause, then, “You don’t really believe that, and you don’t think our firemen lied about what they saw.”

“No, they could have run into some right-wing paramilitary outfit playing commando in the desert, for all I know. It doesn’t have to be a government conspiracy; that’s all I’m trying to say.”

Nataly cocked her head to one side, considering what he’d said. The look on her face was both focused and ethereal. Eric swallowed slowly, but hard. “Look, I actually came here to see if you’d like to take a break for coffee or lunch.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to head back to the office in forty-five minutes.”

“Oh, I can’t leave the shop with Marie alone here,” she said quickly. Eric’s heart sank, and he looked away nervously.

“Why don’t we eat right here?” Nataly added. “I have bread, meat and cheese in the back, and there’s green tea.”

Now his heart jumped. “Well, I suppose—”

“Good. Marie, I’ll be in the back! Ring the bell if there are any problems.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Marie.

Nataly pulled four paperback books off a shelf, and put them into his hands. “Consider this a loan, and promise me you’ll read them. A lot of people here believe what’s in those books, and you need to know what that is if you’re going to be a resident in Sedona.”

Her seriousness made him smile without conscious thought. “Okay, but I could be called back to Phoenix anytime.”

“They’ll just have to do without you,” she said, then put a hand on his arm and guided him to the back of the shop where a curtain of glass and bamboo cylinders covered an open doorway. In the back were boxes floor to ceiling against two walls, a table with two chairs, a refrigerator next to a sink and counter. “No atmosphere, but quiet,” said Nataly. She put a teapot on a hot plate, and made ham and cheese sandwiches while the water heated. They talked about little things: the traffic in town, the weather. For a moment Eric felt as if he’d drifted off for a while. He returned to consciousness and watched silently until she served him at the table.

“This is very nice of you,” he said.

“It’s nice to have adult company. Marie is sweet, but we have little in common outside of the shop. Different generations.”

“She must be well into her twenties.” And you look thirty, tops, he thought.

Nataly sat down opposite him and took a bite of her sandwich. For the first time Eric noticed how long and slender her fingers were. “I’m much older than Marie, Mister Price,” she said.

“Eric,” he said, and made eye contact.

“Eric. You have such interesting eyes. I’d like to read them sometime.”

“Read them?”

“Iridology. Several of us are practitioners here.”

Her gaze was direct and intense; she was studying him.

“You’re a forceful person. I see a suggestion of danger, and there’s a sense of sadness. I see so much of that, the things people do to hurt each other.”

“That’s life,” he said, and heard the bitterness in his own voice.

“You’re alone, or at least you think you are.” Her voice was a near whisper.

Eric bit down hard on his sandwich. “I was married, but it ended in divorce. My only daughter will be married soon, and I’m not invited to the ceremony. I probably deserve it. Hurt goes both ways.”

“I’m sorry,” said Nataly. “But there’s goodness in everyone.”

“How about you? Anything personal isn’t any of my business, of course, but you must have an active social life with your position in the community.”

Nataly rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, lots of parties, and flirting, and offers to satisfy my wildest desires. I’ve been tempted more than once. People like to say I’m too particular, that I’m going to grow old alone, but they’re wrong. I’m just patient about finding the right man.”

“Good advice for anyone. Divorce is nasty,” he said.

“I can see that.” She reached over and touched his arm. For a moment, her hand lingered there. “If you open your mind to them, many healing arts are available to you here. I can show you some of them, if you like.”

Again, a slight smile came to his face without thought. He felt suddenly relaxed in the presence of this woman, without the sense of being judged or threatened. God, she is lovely. “If you want to take a chance with a pragmatist, sure. I’m told I’m a professional skeptic.”

Nataly smiled then, and brushed back errant strands of black hair from the side of her face. “Any good student asks questions on the road to truth.”

Eric shook his head slightly in wonderment.

“What?” she asked, and now she really smiled, and he felt a shortness of breath.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he managed.

“Ah, then I’m an adventure. Tea?” She held up the ceramic pot where tea had been brewing, and arched an eyebrow at him.

“Sure, why not. I’ve become addicted to coffee.”

Nataly poured. “Nice aroma, but too acidic. I love both the tastes and scents of tea. I think it’s important to stimulate all the senses.” As she said it she handed a cup of tea to him, one finger absently touching the back of his hand. “I believe in balance in everything. That’s not easy for me to do in my position. People see me as a wealthy party giver and patron of the arts, and I’m more than that.”

“Yes, you are.” My God, did I just say that? The uncontrolled blush that came to his face instantly dismayed Eric.

Nataly’s smile softened then. Her eyes widened, and fixed on his. “I like you, Eric. I don’t really know why yet, but I’d like the opportunity to find out. I know you’ve been hurt in the past, and the hurt is still there, but you seem willing to take a risk in coming here. You’ve seen me in my castle, and now in my little shop. What do you think?”

“I think you’re fascinating,” he said, and felt good about saying it.

“And you intrigue me. We should meet again. Do you like exotic foods, or are you a meat ’n’ potatoes man?”

“My tastes vary. I’ve been around the world some.”

“I’ll want to hear all about that. My chef is German, but he can do anything European. My house, say seven a week from this Friday? Casual dress, and just the two of us.”

“Sounds nice. I’ll call you here if some business thing comes up.” Eric had no idea what hours he’d be spending at the base. Friday at seven he could be a hundred feet underground.

Nataly thrust out her lower lip in a pout. “Oh, that would be a shame if money matters interfered with our dinner. I’ll leave that decision to you. For now, Marie must be getting hungry, and I have to take my turn at the counter, and you have to go.” She pointed at her watch.

He’d been in her shop over an hour, yet it seemed they’d only talked for minutes. “You’re right. I’m late.”

“If Leon scolds you, tell him it was my fault. He plays the bon vivant, but I’m sure he can be very hard when he wants to be. Don’t forget your books.”

He’d nearly walked away from the books she’d loaned him. He retrieved them, said, “Thanks again.” His mind went blank, his feet refusing to move until Nataly took his arm and escorted him to the door. She waved goodbye, and disappeared from view.

Eric drove back to his office, feeling the giddiness of a juvenile anticipating his first date, and seeing nothing strange about it at all. The euphoria lasted all day and through the evening. By bedtime he was feeling a bit silly about it, and managed to go over his report one final time.

It was likely a mistake to do that, because his sleep was restless all night. He had dreams of Leon shouting at him, and Davis pointing a pistol at him and accusing him of being a spy. Towards morning, Nataly appeared in a vivid dream that woke him up. He remembered sitting up in bed. The lights were low, and dark shadows were moving around the room, circling him, and then the door burst open and Nataly was standing there like an angry angel, shouting, “Get out! All of you get out of this room right now!” And the shadows fled.

When he was awake, sweating, he was certain he could smell her musky scent in the room.