Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) (30 page)

“L
IAR! 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.

D
AN 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.”

“By what, by whom?” Dan asked. His pulse was racing. He
tried to feel for an answer via telepathy but failed.

“By our very human looking assistant, that’s who. She
analyzed you as you read your paper. I’m sorry if you felt distracted or
disturbed during the process. It’s quite harmless. However, you must understand
the very nature of our business necessitates the screening of all applicants as
thoroughly as
humanly
possible.”

“Yes, sir, then you must be aware of the type of asset I
can be to your organization.”

Jorgenson smiled. Dan couldn’t recall why the man had.

“Tomorrow morning.” He flipped a sheet of paper from his
desk into Dan’s hands. “Report there and be on time.”

Dan scanned the paper as quickly as possible. He was sure
he was missing a few details in the fine print. “Oh, Mr. Jorgenson. Can I ask a
question?”

Jorgenson nodded.

“Why should I report to a medical facility?”

“It’s not just a facility. It’s the best medical facility
on the planet. You’re going to have your gift monitored so to speak. We can’t
educate you further about our organization without the adjustment. Do you have
any problems?”

“Ah. No.”

“Then sign at the appropriate marks.” Jorgenson handed
Dan a pen.

Dan signed. He sighed and handed the paper back to
Jorgenson.

“Very well, Mr. Camden, I can tell you’ll be a prime
candidate for our position. Just keep the faith and let your heart guide you.”

Dan glanced at the watch his wife had given him. He felt
his heart had just betrayed his family but didn’t quite know why. Just what
kind of program did these people run? Were they behind President Reagan’s
continued Star Wars Program? Dan stared intently at the dial on the faceplate.
The ticking grew louder with a faint echo behind it. Dan felt if he listened
hard enough to the ticking of the watch it would clue him in as to what his
future held.

DJ
FELT
a rhythm. Her heart beat. She was confused to
say the least.

Honking horns and the bustle of city traffic indicated
she was alive. Her recent memory recall differed. She had died in the desert
and was conversing with her mother.

Here, she literally felt the sway of heavy pedestrian
traffic zigzag around her on a sidewalk that resembled downtown Colorado
Springs.

A familiar voice jolted her. It was Darian, and he was
exiting a movie theater with an older woman. She could only discern a few words
of the conversation among the din. She was sure she heard, “that’s why you’re
my favorite nephew.”

If she heard correctly, Darian’s aunt was well or, at
least not confined to a sick bed.

She called out in their direction, but Darian did not
pause or turn to her.

Was she in the time slip? Or was this just another
doorway of death?

She envisioned her mother.
“Mom, please come. I need
you.”

“I always knew you did.” The quick reply from Mom wasn’t
a surprise. But the nature of her voice and her very appearance was. Gone was
the overly made up woman who attempted to conceal gruesome injuries.

Her pallor was
correct. She talked with her mouth and not with her mind. DJ stared at her long
and hard. She couldn’t be sure if the woman standing before her on a sidewalk
was her mother. It defied all logic—even if you believed in the
afterlife. A time clock standing atop a pole caught her attention and she
blinked. When her eyes opened the sidewalk began rolling up as if a carpet.

S
HE SPILLED
out of the liquid and into a vacuum of space.
Iris Camden couldn’t feel a drop of the red liquid that had immersed her body
mere seconds ago. Now everything was very dark and very blue, so dark blue it
was nearly black. It was like that crayon color, midnight blue. It was also
very much like a canvas. Was she trapped in a work of art? Iris fought to
center herself, but she was not anything she had ever been before.

She felt as if she was tipping forward, slightly. And she
was moving, but at great velocity. Stars whizzed past. Where was she? What was
she?

Her normal fear would have raised her pulse and made her
heart thud audibly in her chest. But instead of that
 . . .
there was something purring, and
it was inside of her.

She glanced sideways and found she had no arms attached.
No recognizable appendage of any kind, in fact. What she had were wings, but
they were made of some substance, possibly a metal alloy or other material, and
for the life of her she couldn’t discern what that material was. Iris was in
serious need of a chemist to tell her what her body was now comprised of. At
the very least, she would be grateful for a multiple-choice option.

How can this be?
More amazing than flight was her ability to exist in
space. She had no breathing apparatus. She made scrunching motions with what
she had thought was her face. There was no give. She panicked, fearing her
entire head was now compromised by the hostile makeover as well.

She had only a second or so to ponder, far in the
distance, a dot appeared to float lazily on the horizon. It captured her
attention, and in those seconds it dawned on Iris what might be happening.

She was in the time slip. Yes, that had to be it. Iris
had tried to mentally prep herself for shifts in time, of scenarios where she
might meet her past and future versions. If she was here, what had transpired?
To save what was left of sanity—after discovering she was a living,
navigable ship in outer space—Iris had to believe the enemy had fired
their weapon and missed. So what was the tiny dot on the horizon?

A voice within her spoke.
“I think it’s something
called revenge.”

E
VAN STOOD
with clenched fists. A pulsation in his neck
convinced him his face would be beet red if he could see it, but he couldn’t;
his eyes were closed. He could discern the digits of the clock that had become
etched in his mind during what had to be the last minute or so of his existence
in the time slip. He tried to grasp the reality of a concept he had only
studied from books and lecturing astrophysicists: Time travel.

He had traveled to a future where Kassidy was his wife;
the whining, compulsive, narcissistic woman who had brought a five-letter word
beginning with “B” to his mind on more than one occasion. Yet Evan was
referencing a past reality.

In essence, there really was no “reality” here. He
chuckled at the irony.
If this isn’t reality, then what is it?
No matter
how many times Evan tried to convince himself the events in the time slip were
inconsequential another voice inside urged him to alter what had become an ugly
situation. He had upset Kassidy but also feared a darker consequence. He was a
hypocrite here. He should have been more supportive of Kassidy. He preached
change was possible for all. It was just a matter of tweaking genetic coding.
Yet when it came to his wife, Evan judged her solely by human emotion and none
of the academic knowledge he was so proud to quote to friends like Mitchell.

Why couldn’t it be possible for Kassidy to change? Why
couldn’t she stop drinking if she got the proper support?
It sounded a whole lot easier than a light
beam from space converting everyone’s DNA via photons.

He opened his eyes and found an electronic pad in his
hands. He scanned a few lines and nodded in acknowledgement. They were his
vows. But what had he written? When had he written it? The only space of time
he could recall between now and his prior fight with Kassidy was the moment or
so he spent focusing on a clock. He was sure if that time line was allowed to
continue he would no longer be able to call Kassidy his wife—not that
he
ever really had.
Oh, the paradox.

He glanced up to find himself locked in the most soulful,
intense gaze he had ever experienced. It was Kassidy, and she was gorgeous. Her
curls were lifted off her face, and a white veil framed her high cheekbones in
a very flattering manner. He scanned downward and caught himself gasping at her
flowing white dress and the dazzling pink and yellow corset pinned near her
collarbone. He heard someone speak in jest. “Down boy, we need to get through
the vows first.” It was followed by a feminine laugh. It was the bridesmaid,
Rachel. She nodded at Evan, but he had no clue as to what she was referring to.
She nodded again. This time, a more earnest expression replaced her smile.

A man next to him cleared his throat. It was Gavin.
Apparently, he was the best man. Mystified by his choice, he pondered where
Mitchell was. Was he really in the time slip? Or had the alien weapon defeated
the planet’s entire population? It would explain why Mitchell was not present.
He would have died from the “change” due to his low resistance from
inoculation. He shook his head.

“Man, get on with the vows,” Gavin whispered. “You know,
the words Rachel
helped
you with last night.” Gavin winked and glanced
toward the pad.

“Ah, yes. Let me continue. I apologize. This is all so
surreal. Your stunning beauty, Kassidy, has left me bedazzled.”

Kassidy smiled. “Bedazzled—that’s quite a word for
a scientist to use.” The priest laughed.

Evan smiled back at Kassidy. “In time, you will
understand.” Pleased with the paradox, Evan continued smiling. He was
prophesying a future to a future, future wife. In his old sense of reality,
neither had occurred.

He expected the vows would motivate Kassidy to quench her
curiosity with continued education. He also expected she would complete this
endeavor with sobriety. He had cheated. He had glimpsed the future of this
particular time line.

As Evan read the vows aloud, he realized the intentions
of the message were veiled. He promised her total devotion, support in all her
endeavors, patience to sympathize with whatever might impede her course. He had
suggested a future with these words. They would be a catalyst for Kassidy to
become a scientist and devote herself to a family without the aid of alcohol.
It had come true in the coming years, at least in this time line, but he
had—in another time line—jeopardized her foundation with dark
insinuation. He expected her to succumb to the demons. In actuality, he was the
demon doubting her.

He finished and added a few lines of his own. He ignored
the daggers boring into him via Gavin and Rachel. Maybe this was no time for
improvisation. But he had to be sure Kassidy was certain he was a man who would
stand not only at her side but behind her as well.

“I take your hand in marriage to aid your further
ascension into the light of knowledge and away from the darkness that might
impede your quest.” He was amazed at the word choice. In the reality of his
world, Evan the rationalist would never have offered such kind analogies. He
would have chided her for her drunkenness. He would have expected her
derisiveness of the past to be innate and unchangeable. In this moment, Evan
would not give these thoughts permission to become tangible in the future going
forward. He would not allow Kassidy to witness any seed of doubt emanating from
mind, emotion or spirit. He was committed in body and mind to supporting his
wife. Insinuations to the contrary would never see the light of this new day.
If Kassidy were to change, he had to change as well.

Evan smiled, and he kissed her hand.

The priest raised a hand. “Not so fast, young man.” More
laughter ensued. Gavin dished a ring from a jewelry case and gave it to Evan.
Words were exchanged. She agreed to honor and cherish him. He concurred. It was
not a rational thing to do, but Evan concurred. He gazed into Kassidy’s eyes
once more. He hoped with his all heart she had understood his words and would
never let doubt of his belief in her dissuade her from a happy life. In this
moment, Evan believed it was more important for his wife to experience joy in
life without dependence than it was for her to become versed in scientific
formulas. He hoped he would never forget this epiphany no matter where time put
him next.

G
AVIN
CHUCKLED
. Damn! He had done it.
He had swept himself and his taunting friends backward. It was the night he saw
the shining, orange ball in the sky. It had to be because Gavin recognized the
ledge overlooking a ravine. In that past, Gavin was despondent. He doubted his
dream to become an investigator of unexplained and unidentified aircraft would
ever be realized. He had only seen footage of alleged sightings via TV and the
Internet. Could he ever become an investigator in a field where he had no
firsthand experience? Moments later in that same evening, Gavin would recall
those thoughts in jest. So what? Now he had firsthand experience thanks to the
glowing orange ball in the sky but how much of the populace would believe him?
More importantly, would friends and family support or ridicule his finding?

The answer was clear. No one in his circle of friends was
going to believe him.

Thanks to time, Gavin might be able to change all that.
Time was like a lever you could push up and down at whatever increments you
desired. At least it worked this way in the fourth dimension. Now he would view
the orb with companions.

“There!” Gavin pointed at the sky. At this instant, he
didn’t feel quite like himself and considered the possibility something else
was controlling his movements. It wasn’t all that different from a dream.
Sometimes you felt in control of the dream, but more often than not, the dream
felt like it was in control of you. This was so illogical, Gavin pondered. If
dreams were manufactured from your subconscious, then how could they appear to
be in control? Following that line of reasoning, what if your subconscious was
another entity of you, perhaps your very soul? Maybe that’s why there were two
halves of reasoning at work inside of one being. Gavin smiled strangely at this
realization. It was possibly the surfacing of his analytical mind. TV
scientists were adamant prospective investigators must possess such a kind of
mind. His smile grew broader. The smirk appeared even odder to his friends who
stared at him, sure that his sighting was no more than some faraway airplane.

“I’m out of here,” Jimmy said to Katy. The way Jimmy
dismissed him without even addressing him astonished Gavin. It was more
emotional than the sighting of the object that screamed to Gavin
Up here, up
here! I symbolize your future.

At this moment in time, Gavin was less concerned about
his future all of a sudden. The sting of betrayal in the here and now seemed a
lot more real than a dot in the sky, thousands of miles away; perhaps so far
away it couldn’t even acknowledge his existence. So why was he so fired up
about giving it credence? What had it done—or what would it do for
him—in either future timeline of his continued existence? His
consciousness realized in one reality he had become the investigator he dreamt
of. But in this unknown and possibly still changeable future, what would
acknowledgement by peers mean? Would it make him anymore of an investigator? Or
was it just an adolescent desire to be accepted?

In a moment of inspiration, Gavin grabbed Katy’s arm.
“No! Don’t go. You see, I’ve been here before, and I know it’s not an airplane.
It’s something undefined. It’s a kind of light. It seems to follow people
around. It might even create messages in fields.” Still holding onto Katy’s
arm, Gavin scratched his head. “It might be another intelligent species.
Doesn’t that interest you, Katy?”

She shook her arm loose from his grip. “No! It doesn’t. I
can’t stand when my father puts on
National Geographic
or the
History
Channel.
I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything that’s not tangible.” She
harrumphed. “Especially if I can’t wear it as a fashion accessory or use it to
talk to my girlfriends at will.”

“But,” Gavin said, “what if this is some kind of
communication device, a very pretty communication device that lights up the night
sky as if it were, as if it were jewelry.” Gavin stammered. His best friend
Jimmy shook his head. “Dude, I never knew you were this desperate for Katy.”

“I’m not. I mean, I-I-I am,” Gavin stuttered. “Shit, I
think the universe of both you guys.”

“Then for the love of God, please tell us how that
thing,” Jimmy pointed at the ball of light in the sky, “has any relevance
regarding our friendship. Shit, I mean, dude, it’s not like it’s going to pick
us up and take us to the mall or something.”

Gavin held a stop sign hand out. “No. Don’t even think
that. We don’t know what it’s capable of. We must proceed with caution. And,
most important, we can’t jump to conclusions. Even me
 . . .
you see, I’m excited because I
can’t identify it. But I can’t say for certain it is extraterrestrial.”