Giddeon (Silver Strand Series) (11 page)

My spouse went through an explanation of how we had learned to talk to Giddeon, complete with how I threw up for the better part of a day after my night with Jose
Cuervo
… I left that out, didn’t I?
 
I’ve always been a bit of a lightweight… apparently marriage has reduced me even more.
 
My liver enzymes must be almost non-existent after so much clean living.

Anyway, Melody then had me punch up the video on the computer, which then projected onto a screen that had descended from a slot in the ceiling.
 
Ray hit a button on a remote, and lowered the lights.
 
Giddy continued to amuse himself with the toys on the floor, and periodically said ‘Momma Mia’ in a soft, sing song of a voice.

*****

I watched with interest as Raymond Bradford took in the 20 minute clip of Giddeon in the therapist’s office.
 
Occasionally, he would jot down a note or two on a legal pad next to him.
 
It was obvious that he was mesmerized by
Giddeon’s
message, and sometimes, he would look over to me as if comparing my demeanor in real life to the one inhabited by my subconscious.
 
My voice on the tape was similar to my actual voice, only the inflections and pacing were different… so different that it was quite noticeable.

When that part of the presentation was done, Ray turned the lights back up in the room.
 
He was quiet, thinking about what he had seen, and absently tapped the eraser of his pencil onto the tablet in his hand for a few seconds.
 
Then,

“The coordinates… were they accurate?” he asked.

“Spot on,” I replied.

“Dr. Ho told you that?”

“Yes… we’ve only spoken to him once, and that was on the secure phones.”

“And, you’ve not been able to get any more data other than what was available that first week?”

“Shut down… no response to numerous requests by amateur astronomers.”

I reached in my pocket and handed him the secure cell phone to show him how the astronomer and Melody had communicated.
 
He flipped it open and saw Dr. Kevin Ho’s quick dial icon on the screen.
 
Raymond handed it back to me, and said, “What time is it in
Hawaii
?”

“About 1:00 A.M.”

“I’ll give him a call in the morning, there…”

“He works nights,” I said.

The billionaire nodded, and I punched the icon and held the phone to my ear.
 
After two rings, Kevin answered.

“Hello…”

“Dr. Ho… this is Greg. I have someone here that would like to speak to you… Raymond Bradford, the entrepreneur that… you, know who he is?
 
He would like to ask you some questions about… you know… are you able to talk?”

Kevin said for me to hold for a minute as he apparently went to a secure location and shut a door.
 
Then he relayed that he could speak freely.
 
I handed the phone to Ray.

“Hello, Dr. Ho… this is Raymond Bradford.
 
It’s a pleasure to speak to you, too.
 
I have a few questions that I would like to ask, if you have the time and it’s safe to do so.
 
Fine…”

*****

So that’s how we convinced one of the world’s richest men that an asteroid was on a collision course with Earth.
 
Having the leading astrophysicist on the planet backing us up kind of cinched it.
 
Also helping to convince Ray was something Giddeon had relayed in my tape edit.
 
I played it for the billionaire after he got off the phone with Kevin.
 
It was something Giddeon had said at the very end of our last session with the therapist.
 

I won’t tell you what it was, because it’s a private detail from the entrepreneur’s life.
 
Something no one else could have known because it had happened years ago and the magnate had never discussed it with anyone.
 
It wasn’t anything compromising… just private and painful.

When Raymond heard it, he just shook his head and stared at the projection screen for a long, long time.
 
Then, he turned to us and said,

“I believe you.”

*****

“Paint… paint… paint... Momma Mia!” said Giddeon from his spot on the floor.
 
“
Sammpsssonn
!”

Raymond laughed and picked our son up and held him high over his head, again.
 
Then he put him in his lap and somehow used the remote to open the study door.
 
I have a smart phone… he has a smart house.
 
Sampson came barreling through the opening and Giddy squealed with delight.
 
The dog bounced up and down on paws that seemed to have springs in them.

“Want to go outside?” Ray asked his dog.

“Woof!!!!!” responded Sampson.

“Inside voice,” said Ray.

“Woof,” came Sampson, as instructed.
 
Giddy laughed at the sound effects coming from the
Labrador
.

“Out… out… out… out!
 
Pooool
!!!” exclaimed my son with new verbiage.

*****

And, to the pool, it was.
 
Melody and Giddy changed back into their bathing suits.
 
Sampson already had one on that was provided by Mother Nature.
 
His dark fur glistened in the
Caribbean
sun as he made magnificent leaps into the water chasing his floating toy.
 
Each time, after emerging from the pool, he would shake and throw droplets to the universe at large, sharing liquid happiness with anything nearby… usually me and Ray.
 

I don’t know who enjoyed the game more… Sampson or Giddy.
 
My son would squeal each time the dog hurtled through the air.
 
We even let our progeny throw the bone a couple of times… he had a surprisingly good arm for someone that could barely even walk.
 

Every now and then I would catch Raymond gazing off at the horizon, and even though we were being entertained by Sampson’s antics, I could tell the billionaire was digesting the information that had been disclosed upstairs in his study.
 
It was a lot to take in, and to his credit, he handled it all with amazing grace.
 
I could tell he was fairly unflappable, and I suppose that’s a good characteristic to have when running a multinational conglomerate.
 
Still… an asteroid heading your way is quite a bit of news to absorb on a Saturday morning.
 

Finally, even Sampson was ready to call it quits, and Melody and my son went upstairs to wash off and change.
 
Ray and I had seats at a table under an umbrella and one of the staff brought us out two enormous glasses of juice… it was delicious.
 
Kind of a combination of orange, grapefruit and papaya.
 
After taking a long draught, Ray said,

“I think we can do it.”

I nodded.
 
He continued,

“I’ll get my best men on the calculations and launch windows.
 
We’ll need the engineering department to get to work on a dispersal system.
 
If the asteroid is mainly a nickel/iron alloy, then a magnetic coupling can stabilize the pod on the surface…”

The dream of Melody’s shoes clack, clack, clacking on the surface of the rock came back to me when he said that.

“Three and a half years isn’t much time,” I said.

“Especially when the government’s involved, and they will have to give us approval,” replied
Bradford
.
 
“That’s going to be our main problem.
 
I can’t tell you how much red tape was printed getting my
Texas
facility up and running.”

He was speaking of his 13,700 acre enterprise dedicated to a fledgling private space program.
 
Several satellites had been launched from the location, and also some experimental prototype vehicles that would eventually be modified for manned missions.

“I can imagine.”

The billionaire ran his fingers through his hair.
 
He almost reminded me of an older Giddeon when he did that.

“They may actively try to block us.
 
Something like this has never been attempted.
 
Our little project could actually make things worse.”

“Can’t get much worse than dead centering the Earth.”

He nodded.
 
“Assuming your prognosticating subconscious is correct in his calculations.
 
What if the asteroid is just going to make a close pass, and we change its course so that it veers straight into us?”

Sampson began to whine for attention.
 
Ray reached down and petted his big square head.

“I think Giddeon is going more by the futures all changing than the actual math.”

“That would be a hard sell to our elected officials.”

“I know…”

We looked out at the ocean and the scenery spread out before us.
 
Beautiful and serene.

“Well…” said Ray.
 
“…one bridge at a time.
 
Rome
wasn’t built in a day.”

Having heard those same words just prior to actually taking a tour of ancient
Rome
a few years before, I agreed.
 

I just hoped it could be built in 1232 days.

*****

On the flight back, Melody wrote left-handed in a notebook for most of the way.
 
Giddy actually slept quite a bit.
 
Every now and then he would wake up, look around and say ‘Sampson’, but then he would fall right back asleep.
 
The flight attendants kept coming by to check and see if we needed anything, but, I think they just wanted to look at the little angel laid out on the pillow in my lap.
 

He was ridiculously cute.

About an hour before we landed, Giddy woke up and wanted his momma.
 
I handed him over, and took the notebook from her.
 
My wife and my son took turns looking out the window at the clouds.
 
Flipping back to the first page of the notebook, I began to read:

I spent quite a bit of time over on
Coronado
once I got to where I could see Giddeon and Greg with my own eyes.
 
It was difficult to visualize them, especially at first.
 
The closest thing I can relate it to is like when you look at one of those posters that have an image buried in them.
 
You know the ones?
 
Where you look at them and you have to let your eyes kind of relax and see two posters that slightly overlap… if you do it right, then the artwork jumps out at you in 3-D?
 
The same with hearing what they were saying.
 
At first, I would just read their lips, or I would get inside of Boris and listen when he was around.
 
However, if I didn’t try too hard, I could hear them.
 
I don’t know if ‘hear’ is the correct word… it was more like ‘understood’ them.
 
Sort of like telepathy.

Let me tell you, some of those conversations were out of this world… literally.
 
Poor Greg was a bit
bumfuzzled
at first.
 
So was I.
 
Quantum physics isn’t exactly my thing.
 
I prefer magic.
 
But, you know… they aren’t so different in the end.
 
Two sides of the same coin.
 
As Gid likes to say, ‘Science allows you to incrementally believe in magic’.
 
I suppose he’s right.
 
Even if he isn’t, I just let him think he is.
 
Sometimes you just have to let your man think he hung the moon even if you have evidence to the contrary, right ; )
 
Besides, I like to watch how animated he gets on the subject.
 
His eyes light up and his whole countenance kind of glows.
 
I spend more time just watching him than listening to his theories… after all what is more magical than that?
 
I don’t have to understand or explain every little thing about something in order to enjoy it.
 
It just is.

Like love.

If you dissect it and look for motivations and reasons, it loses its shine.
 
And the glow is what’s important.
 
Everything has a glow, doesn’t it?
 
No matter how large or how small.
 
Especially, people.
 
The auras that your husband sometimes sees… that’s what I see around everything.
 
I don’t know where it comes from, and I don’t really care.
 
Maybe it’s the field of probabilities that I’m seeing, and it just looks different from my female point of view.
 
It doesn’t really matter to me.
 
When
Giddeon’s
eyes illuminate with a passion for something, that’s what’s important.
 
I try to listen to his words and descriptions, but sometimes I just want to kiss those lips and stop them from moving long enough to exchange some magic between us.
 

Magic doesn’t need so many words.

Like music.
 
It doesn’t need words to move you.
 
Sometimes, it’s better without them.
 
Then, you can interpret the tune in any way you wish.
 
You can soar with the birds or dive with the dragons… it’s up to each person to find what they will.
 

Sometimes, I think it’s that way with everything.
 

The universe is a song, and what we hear is more about who we are than what’s actually playing.
 
We all add our little parts to the harmony, each of us players and composers at once.
 
If you listen closely, you can almost hear the sounds… radiating and filling the past and the future with intricate melodies that are ever changing… ever changing and yet, always the same.
 
I don’t know how that’s possible, but, somehow it seems to be.

I’m rambling, aren’t I?
 
It’s just that I have so much to tell you.
 
Do you know what it’s like to go for so many years with no one to talk to?
 
I finally found Giddeon, and how wonderful is that?
 
Finally someone to communicate with!
 
But, a girl needs a girlfriend to confide in, doesn’t she?
 
Half the fun of finding someone is being able to share your excitement with a friend.
 
A BFF, right?
 
I didn’t get to do that as a teenager, so I guess I’m just making up for it, now, huh?
 
So, you’ll have to forgive me if I seem a little disjointed, sometimes.
 

Anyway, the first time I time-traveled was when I followed GG (Giddeon/Greg) to the beach to go surfing when you and Amanda and Brooke were boogie-boarding.
 
After you three left the restaurant, I went with both the guys out onto the concrete boardwalk.
 
I was standing right next to them when Giddeon took us into a future right there at
Ocean
Beach
.
 
I walked out onto the pier with GG and saw the ragged group of people fishing there.
 
Then, we were transported in time and space to the remains of that city that had been destroyed by a nuclear bomb.

It was so sad, but, I’ve seen a lot of sad.

*****

The next thing I knew, we left that deserted future and jumped backwards in time to just after the blast.
 
I saw all of the pitiful creatures that were burned and disfigured and trying to go somewhere, anywhere, to get away from their pain.
 
It wasn’t possible.
 
I saw the poor little girl crying on the ground, her hair and dress melted to her skin.
 
I went over and tried to comfort her, although I knew better than that… or, I thought I did.
 

She looked up at me with those beautiful, big dark eyes… she must have been turned away from the blast when it happened.
 
Her eyes were so dark they were almost black, and, I believe she saw me.
 
She reached out to me and kept saying a word over and over… I thought the word meant ‘Momma’ in her language.
 
I was so heartbroken and transfixed that I didn’t see what was happening behind me.

*****

I turned around just in time to see Greg fall to the ground and then watched the two of them disappear.
 
They disappeared right in front of me and left me behind!
 
I ran over to the spot where they had been and spun left and right, over and over, ‘round and ‘round.
 
I felt a growing panic when I realized they were gone.
 
Completely and totally gone.

I didn’t know what to do.

I could get back to
San Diego
easily enough… I knew that… but, I didn’t know anything about how to change times.
 
I closed my eyes and tried.
 
It didn’t work.
 
When I opened them, everything was just as it was.
 
Yellow dust in the air.
 
Zombies shuffling past.
 
An unpleasant smell permeating the area.
 
I tried again.

Nothing.

My heart was racing… I hadn’t been that scared since I was a little girl.
 
When I was a little girl and horrid things were after me…

When I was a little girl… a little girl like the one burned so badly on the ground a few feet from me.

I looked at her with tears streaming down her blistering cheeks and saw that she still had her arms stretched out in my direction.
 
She was again repeating that word, over and over.
 
I went back and knelt down beside her.
 
Her legs were broken and there’s no telling how far she had been hurled through the air.
 
Any of the smoldering corpses scattered around us could have been her mother… they all looked alike.

I did my best to comfort her, but of course my hands just went right through the small body sitting there in the dirt.
 
I didn’t know what to do.
 
I was concerned about being stuck in another land and time, but, I was more concerned about her.
 
I stayed there with the child for a long, long while.

*****

Night fell.
 
No one came to help.
 
I’m sure it would have been suicide to do so, with the radiation levels.
 
I watched her grow weaker and weaker.
 
At some point, there was no more fluid left for tears, and she just looked at me with those big, obsidian eyes in the darkness.
 
I could almost see the stars above us reflected, there.
 
I held her as best I could, and I think she knew that I was trying to help.
 
Finally, she said the word one last time, and died.

I cried and cried, and fell asleep holding her in my arms.

*****

I woke up in my condo.
 
Technically, I guess it was your condo, and everything was back to the way it was.
 
The little girl was just a dream.
 
A horrible, horrible dream.
 
I got up from the bed and went to take a shower, although I don’t really need to do things like that… but, for some reason, I could still smell smoke.
 
I had reached down to turn the water on when I noticed something strange.

There, on my sleeve, was a hair.
 
It was dark and straight, and one end looked to have been
singed
.
 
I held it up to the light, and then to my nose.
 
I could smell the burned protein just a bit, and, I think I could even smell her tears.
 
I put the strand in your locket... the one your dad gave you for your 16th birthday.
 

Sweet sixteen… an age that little one would never get to see in that fractured future.

*****