NOOZOON - New Life

A Dime's Worth by William James Johnson

2007-02-24T15:10:00.000-05:00

You had to be there to appreciate how important one thin dime meant in a child's life. There may even be some of you who don't realize a dime is a silver coin, smaller than a penny, worth ten cents each, It had a beautiful engraving of Canada's champion racing sailboat called the "Bluenose" which was constructed at Lunenberg on the Nova Scotia east coast.

Just to have that tiny silverboat replica gave a kid a feeling of freedom because he could do all kinds of things with it. My favorite choice was the Saturday movies. Imagine! One thin dime and you could spend all day and part of the evening enjoying a double feature after watching the previews of coming attractions, always an exciting cartoon of that "Cwazy Wabbit", and the latest on the world scene on Time's Newsreal. And get a load of this. If you really liked all of this, you could see the complete ten cents worth of excitement a second time, and no one asked you to leave.

One of the highlights which changed every week, was a serial action movie which always ended with the hero's life in jeopardy. You couldn't risk interruptions to the amazing "Captain Marvel". Each new chapter always began with a brief review of his dilemma, resolved in a few exciting frames. What a guy.

There was also a special treat in those days. Small corner stores sold penny candy in grab bags. Nothing fancy. But a nickles worth of penny candy, that is five bags, would give you enough munching to last for the complete double feature seen twice.

My best choice was to buy a coney island hot dog at the Post Office lunch. You can't get them any more. Served on a steamed bun which held the footlong weiner, floating in mustard, and drenched in peppery chili con carne, covered in diced Spanish onion. And believe it or not. It cost only five cents. So a dime could buy you a fantastic lunch. Two coney island dogs, before leaving for the movie.

And remember, all of this took place during the depression, which began when the stock market crashed in 1929. I was born in 1927, and I am still around. Seventy percent of the workers in my town were unemployed. I began to realize spaghetti was not just for Italians. You could tell what day of the week it was, by what was for supper.

I should mention as well Comic Books cost a dime. Kids would bring their new editions and have me read them aloud, because I put in all the sound effects. Sometimes there would be as many as ten excited kids sitting on our front steps. The boy who owned the magazine would sit next to me, looking at all the fantastic illustrations. The others listened to the escapades of "Batman and Robin", or "Faster than a bullet". It was an interesting time.

I Am Not a Crook by William James Johnson

2007-02-22T09:37:00.000-05:00

This is a quote by former president Richard Nixon during the historical "Watergate Hearings". It is probably the one thing for which "Dirty Dick" will always be remembered..I too, am not a crook, but I was accused of being a thief when I was nine years old, in grade three of my Catholic school, Holy Name of Mary. We lived in a parish which was known by its abbreviated title of "O.L.P.S" which meant "Our Lady of Prompt Succor". Whatever that means.

There was a knock on our classroom door, and standing in the hall was a senior student.

"I'm supposed to bring Billy Johnson to the principal's office,"

Just to hear I was being taken to Sister Dionysius' office set up a nervous trembling through my entire body. "Didi" as we all called her, had a threatening reputation. Just being in her presence made some kids wet themselves. There was definitely a witches brew about this emaciated celibate whose chin in the sunlight shone with silver, wiry wiskers.

Her tall figure, all in black except that white thing which framed her unattractive grumpy face, stood with her back to the window to enhance her foreboding presence, her hand on my brother Bob's shoulder.

"So now we have the whole gang of thieves, the notorious Johnson boys. Thought you could get away with it did you?" Her voice sounded like the witch in the Wizard of Oz.

"Away with what?" I asked.

She wacked me in the back of my head with that set of bones which she used as a hand. "Did I ask you to speak?"

"I just want to know what you think we have done, that's all".

"I have a witness who saw the two of you run into the bread truck while the man was making a delivery, and stole two loaves of bread."

Bob had enough of this and he grabbed Didi's arm when she had wacked me again.

"You can't do this Sister. Someone is lying and it ain't us."

She swung at Bob, who is a year younger than me, but bigger. Using his extra bulk, he forced her against the table and made a fist.

"Bob! No. Stop it."

"I'm not a thief and no black witch is going to push us around. You and me Bill. We can take on anyone."

She left the office and we heard her locking us in. She left us locked up until almost the end of the school day. She didn't let us eat our lunches, and we were terrified to go home and have to tell our parents what had happened. They believed priests and nuns could walk on water.

We heard the key turning and the principal in her most strident voice ordered us out.

"Get back to your classes. You've missed enough as it is. Our witness and the deliveryman admitted they were both mistaken. The thieves were the other Johnson family. Now get out of here. You have caused enough trouble for one day."

No apology. Nothing. But the satisfaction "we are not crooks."

Yawkee Storm Sewer by William James Johnson

2007-02-21T10:10:00.000-05:00

Before venturing on my detailed discovery of the mysterious man-made hole in the forest, I went to the archives of our local newspaper to see if the location of the well which I had found was where the body of the murdered young girl was recovered. There was no mention of its location except to say there were several of these sewers throughout the surrounding countryside. I decided that I would continue my preparations, even if there was an inherent risk.

One of the great obstacles was the intense blackness in the gaping tunnel once I moved away from the descending stairs. After considering many options, I settled on using candles. I even had an unlimited source of these, called, "vigil lights". These were the small lights in coloured containers in abundance in all Catholic churches. Parishioners who were praying for special favors would buy a candle and light it up. To ensure they would get their money's worth, they preferred to select new candles. For this reason the janitor would remove all used candles and dump in the trash. This became my abundant source, which I loaded into a canvas bag.

It was my intention to find small chunks of floatable wood on which my candles would stand. My scrounging skills were in high gear when I went to a lumber supply yard and told the yard guy that I needed these for a school project. He gave me about 30 cut off pieces of shingles which went into the candle bag.

I rode my bike to Yawkee Bush, and after almost an hour of trudging through the swamp I found the opening. Tentatively I turned my trusty penlight into the void, and began having second thoughts. What if something happened? I hadn't told anyone what I was going to do. At least my bike was up top, within sight of the well. Nothing is going to happen.

My sack of light supplies banged on my back as I went slowly into the unknown. There was about a foot of water in the bottom of the five foot space. This was double what had been here the last time. I could hear surges of water emptying into the tunnel, a long ways off to the right I began splashing as I walked away from the opening. Rats scurried along the edge of the stream trying to get away from me.

Setting the wood carefully, I placed one of my used candles on it which I lit with my dad's lighter I found on his dresser. Suddenly I was startled to see a huddled dark shadow standing behind me. I almost laughed out loud when I realized I was the shadow. It was amazing how far I could see from one candle. With this minimum light, I was not even startled by the number of rodents that swam near my feet. The second candle made me feel like I was in a subway underground.

Ten floating vigil lights spurred my self-confidence. I must have covered a city block in this bleak tunnel. Then without warning, I heard a roaring sound of a torrent of water, flooding the tunnel from where I had begun, sinking each burning candle. No light whatsoever. I could hear the rats panicking, trying to climb my legs.

Keep cool. There's only one way to get out. I had to go back. I had to hurry, because I had no idea what caused the flooding water sound,or how deep it would be. By the time I got back to the steps, rain was pelting down the opening, one of those unexpected summer storms common in our area. The water in the bottom of the well was now waist deep. I looked like a drowned rat by the time I reached my bike. Wet or not, its hard to forget what could've happened. I guess those vigil lights had the power to answer my anxious pleading.

Yawkee Bush by William James Johnson

2007-02-20T14:56:00.000-05:00

Yawkee Bush by William James Johnson

If you didn't have the excitement of discovery in a complex bush when you were young, you missed days of adventure. We lived within four miles of an overgrown, forested area which was our favourite place to become everything from Robin Hood, to the ancients who created Stonehenge. Such a place, with an abundant imagination, had no boundaries. Yawkee Bush had the reputation of being one of the prime areas for burgeoning youth to visit with that special young thing who was yearning to become enjoyed. Now that was something you will always remember. The twisted trees sending shoots in every direction gave ample cover once you had prepared the nest.

Swamps, and a murky river dotted with bullrushes made you want to go deeper into the mystery of this ageless forest. It was then I made one of my greatest Yawkee discoveries. After making it across the winding creek, I saw that surface water was flowing towards a concrete opening, about four feet across. Using my special penlight I had obtained by saving Rolled Oat coupons, I looked through the opening and there were rusted metal steps leading into a wet well about a hundred feet below me. I just had to see where this structure was going. Usually I wouldn't take a chance like this alone, but I thought I might never find this well again.

At the bottom, I saw the shallow water was flowing towards the right, into a black void. This must be one of those storm sewers I had read about. Just a few months before my experience, the body of a young rape victim had been discovered in one of these storm sewers. That's enough for now. I'll tell you about my return to the well in my next blog.

When I Was a Kid by William Johnson

2007-02-18T15:12:00.000-05:00

When I Was a Kid by William James Johnson

Is it my imagination or did we have more fun and adventure when we were kids? As the oldest in a family of five boys and three sisters, I was expected to be sure the young ones never got into any serious trouble. I came close to witnessing a potential murder between my brother Bob, and our third sibling Bruce. Bruce was given the task of watering mom's garden which, normally would have been done without an event taking place. I guess Bruce was in one of his crazy moods, and armed with a high powered hose, suddenly got the urge to include Bob in the watering. I should mention Bob was the largest boy in the family, raised on breast milk, while I was given life saving Carnation milk. Even to this day, I gag when I see that red and white can.

Sorry, I didn't mean to leave Bob soaked to the skin, rushing after Bruce's physical future. He rushed at the smaller lad, intent on doing him serious harm. Bruce had no other choice but wack Bob on the head hard enough to break a brass nozzle, and open a serious gash in Bob's skull. Have you ever seen a steady stream of blood pouring out of a wound all over one's clothes. As kids say now it was awsome.

Bruce threw the remains of the hose at Bob's feet, and made a thundering escape down the alley followed by the injured brother screaming at me.

"Get that son of a .....And let me hurt him. Christ I can't stop the bleeding."

I took off my shirt and wrapped it around his wound. Bruce stayed at a friend's house for a couple of days. Bob survived and dad blamed me for not stopping it. He convinced me with his belt.

This was not one of those days when we were having a lot of fun. Bruce was the first to die in our family, at 57, of alcoholism. But there were a lot of fun times. I'll tell you more later.

Unplanned Day

2007-02-17T16:36:00.000-05:00

Unplanned Day by William James Johnson

I am having one of those unplanned days. My significant other, I should say wife, but I'm trying to sound like I'm cool or whatever the current term is for a guy who is trying to interfere with the onset of "who was the guy with the pointed nose who played Sherlock Holmes in all those British crime movies before they had all the "CSI" equipment.?

Now you can see why I say I'm mixed up today. I forgot what I was going to tell you about why I began to mention my wife. She got up before me and felt I should realize that the TV weather guy was warning a huge snow storm was heading our way, and she had discovered we urgently needed milk, bread, and a small jar of stuffed olives, and get some romaine lettuce to go with all those croutons she had made last night. Oh, and be sure the lettuce is not too old.

I looked out off my frosted bedroom window and marvelled at the beauty of the fern patterns which obscured my view of the snowy build up, bending my unprotected shrubs.

"Should I take the car?"

"A&P is only a block away. You can be there and back before you get the car out."

She's right. She's always right. I squeezed into my parka and forced the drift away from the side door. A gust of noreaster thrust me back against the frame.

"Do we really need this stuff now?"

"I wouldn't have gotten you out if I didn't need it. You're wasting time."

That one block walk was not my favorite thing to do in a gale that can kill the feeling in your fingers in a few minutes. I thought I had put my gloves in my parka so I would not have to be searching for them. Must have been in a different coat.

The store was packed with other sleepy spouses, waiting in line for a cart. Wouldn't you know it. I got one with two wonky wheels which preferred to go east instead of straight north. The wobbling and rattling noise aggravated my fellow shoppers, but not nearly as much as the banging sound of a pyramid of Heinz concentrated tomato soup on special that day. I think it was what is called a "lost leader". That damn cart suddenly got a life of its own and caught a corner can which brought all the specials rolling down the aisles.

It wasn't over yet. A senior citizen was rifling through a large stack of penny saving coupons which the cashier patiently calculated for the old sweety, while I tugged at my milk, and bread, and lettuce, which seemed okay.

"Now that wasn't too bad was it. Oh hell. I wanted stuffed olives. I can't stand these with the pits. Would you mind getting the right kind." I like olives, pits or not.

Brain Washing by William James Johnson

2007-02-02T10:18:00.000-05:00

Brain Washing by William James Johnson

You may recall the interesting plot in the movie, "The Manchurian Candidate", where the Communist captors, using a technique of deep hypnotism, create agents out of the American prisoners captured during the Korean war. After destroying their past life memories by using drugs and psychological methods, they rebuild their value abilities, to the point where these reprogrammed military subjects can now carry out any instruction given them by their new masters, which includes orders to assassinate US politicians.

It was during this time I discovered a couple of books I would recommend:"Struggle for men's minds," and the "Rape of the mind." Both stress the importance of first destroying the existing ethical programming of the subjects before superimposing the new behaviour judgement the controllers are seeking. It gave as an example the long preparation a novice must endure prior to becoming an ordained Jesuit priest. This takes 12 years of extreme disciplinary study and physical sacrifice, when the normal study in preparation for ordination to the priesthood is 7 years. The formula is called "breakdown and rebuild."

Now here is the essence of my blog. I have observed in America there is hardly any home without a television, the "brain washing" machine of our generation. Most of us spend our leisure time after our day's work, lounging comfortably with our favourite brew, completely vulnerable to the commercial spewing almost 30 minutes during each so-called hour long show.
In fact, have you noticed how the same commercials are shown twice in sequence, and some even three times.

This flagrant abuse of our time is obviously continuing because it works. Brain washing electronically works. And what about the speed of the digitalized images, designed to keep the audience off balance. You try to make sense out of the non-message, while your brain keeps working on the buzz of rapid pictures to which you have just been exposed.

We all can choose to switch channels, but they are all using the same techniques. Turn the device off. Impossible. Forty inch monitors cost too much to be ignored. And besides they have become our new masters. We don't do much as a family anymore, because our favourite show is on. Sit down and be quiet. Your brain is being reprogrammed.

The Book

2007-01-17T09:29:00.000-05:00

How can a religion become so perverse that it motivates the supreme sacrifice of its extremists by assuring them that Allah will reward these murderous pyschopaths when they blow up themselves, and any and all who happen to be nearby, with an eternity in paradise? Who thinks about the tremendous torment and unending destruction of innocents for the terrorist to earn that ultimate payoff? I weep for those who were destroyed by these Islamic cowards who continue to spread their satanic evil. And why are not the genuinely devout followers of the Prophet revolting against this terror in their daily lives?

Thank God many of the significant Mullahs in the Islamic leadership have recently condemned the criminal activity of the extremists who have combined their nefarious deeds with a misguided interpretation of their sacred book.

Middle East Deception by William James Johnson

2006-07-22T10:49:00.000-04:00

And Isaac was forty years old when he was wed to Rebekah, and she was barren. He entreated the Lord on his wife's behalf, and she conceived twins who struggled within her. She implored the Lord to help her at this difficult time. And the Lord said, "Two nations are in thy womb and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels, and the one people shall be stronger than the other people and the elder shall serve the younger."

The first born came out reddish and covered in hair and they called him Esau, and soon came the other twin whose hand took hold of Esau's heel and he was called Jacob. Both grew into strong men, Esau, a man of the field, and Jacob a quiet man, dwelling in tents. Isaac loved Esau. In his seventieth year, feeble and blind he asked Rebekah to prepare Esau to receive his father's blessing and be officially the leader of the family.

Isaac fearing he was about to die asked Esau, the hunter, to prepare venison for him, and he would make him the leader of his family. Rebekah, who favoured Jacob schemed with him to cheat Esau out of this honour, by disguising him with animal furs on his arms and told him how to speak to his father.

So where am I going with this story. Remember the Bible tells us that two nations were in her womb, and they would be different in manner. The unending struggle of the semitic race even in todays middle east is the continuing feud, which is based upon a deception and a willingness to claim unjustly the land which legally belongs to Esau's side of the family. There can be no end of the destruction until the participants return to the beginning. There is a reason real estate is termed "real" estate. Laws have been established to recognize true ownership.

The guilt of the world nations after the enormity of the holocaust, does not validate the occupation of another's homeland, because the scripture promised a holy land to ancient descendants. Because as my story says, this land was seized by deception.

2006-07-17T14:23:00.000-04:00

Unified Theory of the Universe by William James Johnson

The following presentation requires the suspension of the need for an intelligent cause to underlie all we perceive. In its place there must be a willingness to endow unlimited chance with a universal quality of total becoming.

Man's awareness of his own beginning and end has thwarted his efforts to accept the greatest discovery in the universe, which is the eternity of energy, no beginning and no end. To reach this discovery, man must get beyond the dilemma of his limitation experienced in his own existence. It is this realization which has given rise to this finite creature's evolution of the need for a theology, God and creature, infinite maker of all things, and the fallible, sinful, disobediant
failure, who violated the maker's greatest gift of free will.

Even in his attempts to find meaning, man fails. Excuses are not answers. Through the ages, evolving creatures marvel at the complexity of creation, without realizing there was, and there is, no need for a creator. The universe "is" and always will be. Man must move on in his understanding.

In an infinite universe there are two elements which co-exist, potentiality, and actuality. We no longer should deny the power of unlimited chance. Think about it. Everything is possible when there is no time limit.. Potentiality is the ability to become. It is the black space between all those electronic charges which science has discovered using man's greatest means of measuring, electron microscopes, and the deterioration of radioactivity.

Potentiality becomes actuality defined by the laws of gravity, magnetism and motion in space. It is the combined action of these forces which unify the Universe.

Arcana by William James Johnson (introduction)

2005-10-07T09:28:00.000-04:00

I haven't written a blog for awhile, but the changing climate of terrorism in the world has motivated me to reintroduce my novel "Arcana" which becomes more prescient as each day advances towards the final struggle between radical fundamentalists and those materialists who think they have the answers. Read and think. At least that's a start. Wild Bill

Arcana by William James Johnson

Early in this new century our world will be devastated by an all out conflict between Israel and the Western world, brought about by the oil producing Arabs refusal to supply their much needed oil for the U.S. and EU countries unless the Palestinian situation is finally resolved. The Arabs demand the removal of the state of Israel and the return of all the land to the rightful owners.

The president of Israel meeting with his cabinet in secret, decides there will not be another holocaust even if it means the world must be brought to its knees. It is then that Arab oil in all countries of the Middle East are targeted by Jewish nuclear missiles. Radioactive sand in immense toxic clouds ascends to the stratosphere, to return in time to destroy all life in its path. All the countries in the prevailing west to east winds, slowly but surely pay the price of the age old conflict of the ownership of the promised land.

Since death by radiation is inevitable, even the leadership of the west becomes hardened by the uncontrollability of the behaviour of its doomed citizens. The time is right for a powerful law and order leader to take control of his people who are willing to give up some of their personal liberty in exchange for a return to a state of security. President David Koster, the first Jewish president of the United States is a world reknown behavioral modifier, who puts his formula for personal behaviour monitoring into place, resulting in a change of heart in his doomed citizens.

Viewing the success of his methods, Koster decides he can now make the great decision which will put the U.S. back in control of the other nations. He authorizes the production of the ultimate weapon, a neutron bomb, which destroys people but does not waste the land. His deputy announces at the UN they will be using the device in the destruction of 700 people on the Island of Rocas in the Pacific.

The night before Koster is to fly to Melanesia to witness the test, a large 100 foot vibrating blue sphere hovers outside the White House, and directs a humming ruby beam of energy at the President working in his upstairs study. His housekeeper rushes to his room to discover all that remains, is his foot prints burned into the carpet.

This is where the story becomes an exciting adventure including:

Airship Nobile
International crew
SIC Synthetic Ionization Chamber
Zero Magnetism
IAM
The Abode of IAM
Stellar
Phohot machine
Space craft cloning
Monads
Arcana
Return to Washington
and much more.

My novel is available on the internet and I will give you a link if you request it in your comments.

Being in the right place...by William James Johnson

2005-06-24T14:56:00.000-04:00

After getting the travelling bug during my sixteen years as an aircew officer in the RCAF, I continued to travel. I loved the adventure of experiencing the new and strange cultures which I visited in over 20 trips to Europe. I remember the young boy who shared his french fries with strangers as we waited outside a tour bus in Northern Ireland. It was a chilly noon in high winds coming off Dingle Bay. The fries were delicious, and the young lad said he liked to share his food. He knew the tour company discouraged eating on their bus.

I've always found talking to strangers on a long distance flight overseas always made me feel by the time I landed, that I was born and raised with them. Must be the fact that people seem to prefer unburdening themselves to this unknown character, because there is no chance they will ever meet again. And the sharing of secrets goes both ways.

Momentarily, I just had a passing recollection of a group of my fellow travellers, many from New Zealand who still write to me, lying in about four inches of geothermal pool water, looking like a gathering of breeding hippos. They all roared when I labelled them as such.

Then there was the time I met the master chef on a Holland America cruise ship who was told that I was a famous Canadian artist. The substantial aging senior asked if I would mind doing a drawing of him. We chatted in his kitchen below decks and talked of many things while I did a ball point sketch of his bearded face. Even a blind man could have sketched him. He was thrilled with my handiwork and asked what he could do for me. We settled on his agreement to send me his recipe for carrot cake. I'm still waiting for it.

But my last episode is the real reason for this blog. We were at an Italian banquet in a large hall in Venice, where a row of dining tables were arranged end to end. This made it necessary for us to space ourselves along each side, where we stood waiting for the host to give us the signal to sit. Across from me was an American woman who had become a friendly acquaintance on the tour. As we were still standing, I realized she was having a problem. She was pointing at her throat, and tears were pouring out of her eyes. No one else noticed that the lady was choking. Without delay, I raced around the long line of tables and grabbed the choking woman around her waist and tried unsuccessfully to apply the heimlech manoeuvre. I had never done this before, but I had seen it done in movies.

My failed attempt was making me panic. The fact that waiters thought we were fighting and were trying to pull me off her was not helping. I grabbed her again determined to squeeze as hard as I could, even if it meant I might crack a rib. Suddenly a chunk of Italian bread stick which she had bitten into, and like a wine cork had lodged in her throat, shot out of her mouth and struck the man across from her. In a weak voice she said,"You saved my life".

I returned to the other side of the table and could not stop my legs from shaking. Needless to say, I really did not enjoy the meal that night. Before we left Rome to return home, she came up to me and gave me a hug. I'll always remember what she said. "Now you know why God put you on this trip." I was lucky. I was in the right place at the...

Fear by William James Johnson

2005-06-20T10:47:00.000-04:00

Hardly a day goes by without hearing about the exceptional bravery of someone who put their life on the line to help save a person who would have perished if they had not made a decision to risk all to rescue this victim in distress. Often the action is taken without considering the possibility of losing one's own life. Many times the fear of this ultimate sacrifice is realized long after the action has been taken. The fear may actually be altered as the memory factors in the dire consequences which could have happened if the rescuer had doubted for a moment instead of taking the saving action.

The most trying test for the brave person is to charge into flames to rescue someone trapped in a burning house or smashed vehicle which could blow up in any minute. It was this kind of experience which continues to bring back fantastic memories in my life which I would like to share with you.

Several years ago, when I was an aircrew electronics officer in the RCAF, I was stationed at the Maritime 407 Squadron at Comox, British Columbia. Nestled in a beautiful mountainous valley on the east coast of Vancouver Island, we were flying P2V Neptune aircraft for our submarine patrols. This was the aircraft of choice because it was fitted with two jetpods, and two propeller engines. We used to call our aircraft "two burning, and two turning". Because of the geographic location we needed to climb over the surrounding mountains which were 9000 feet high. We needed the power of our jets to get us above that altitude within the first few seconds of take off.

On this memorable flight we had completed all of our pre-flight preparations, settling in for our take off. The normal procedure was for the pilot to bring up the power settings on the two jet engines to 100% take off thrust, while keeping the brakes on the wheels. Once the power was reached, he would release the brakes and we would leave the runway like a rocket assisted take-off.

I was strapped in my seat at the rear rest position, beside a large observation window used on our search operations. We all listened to the co-pilot reading off the pressure settings on the jets in his monotonous tone. "Three zero. Thirty-five percent. Forty. Forty-five"

That was when the explosion startled everyone.

"What the hell was that?" asked the skipper.

"We are on fire skipper. I've got the rear hatch open. Everyone out. Hurry."

I got eight of the crew out before I jumped through the opening and struck the scorching runway.

A high wall of flame was within ten feet of where I landed. The pilot kept the aircraft going forward so that the wind would keep the flames away from the body of the plane. It was then I realized there were still two pilots and an engineer on board. I was certain they could not see from their position that their machine was still burning. I ran as fast as I could in my heavy flying boots so that I could indicate what was happening.

Suddenly I was soaked by a brown coloured liquid being shot at the fire by our base firemen from the massive foam truck which had raced across the tarmac to intercept our burning plane. In seconds the flames were snuffed out, and our plane stood dripping like a wet dog, as the last three crewmen came out of the desperate looking Neptune.

Investigators discovered the explosion was caused by a broken hydraulic line which spewed fluid over the hot engine until it combusted and blew large chunks of metal and flames all over the runway.

Remember I said memory plays a part in the fear generated after such a trauma. We had a full fuel load on for a ten hour mission. Can you imagine what a fireball would have lit up the sky if the explosion had happened only fifty seconds later, after we got airborne. I sure can't forget it. In fact, I'm lucky that I'm still here, and can share this memory with you.

Ann Has Died by William James Johnson

2005-05-06T10:54:00.000-04:00

Death and taxes so they say, are inevitable. But you know as I do, some deaths are life changing events. Such was the sudden death of a sweet, sixteen year old in my teenage period. Ann Gallagher was everyone's friend. Beautiful, with long, straw coloured hair, often worn in a braided pony tail. Her melodic singing voice made our group annual shows in the Church hall a must-see performance.

Suddenly,one night, at our Sunday night record dance, Ann dropped her arms from my cousin Bernard's neck and slumped to the floor, unconscious. Father Laragh, who was overseeing our fun, rushed to the collapsed Ann, and began calling her name. He took her pulse, but there was nothing. Gesturing over the inert form, he made the Sign of the Cross, and uttered, "Ego te absolvo."

Looking up, shaking as he spoke to the group of young folks, he said, "Ann has died."

The sound of weeping and sighs of disbelief descended on the gathering. I was so sure the priest was wrong, I urged Bob Keane to help us get Ann up to carry her to his pickup which was the only transportation available. This was before there was a 911 service. Half a dozen kids climbed into the back of the truck, while Bernie and I held Ann across our laps, rushing to the emergency unit of Hotel Dieu hospital. It was a terrible night for driving. We had been hit with one of the worst winter storms ever seen.

We spent that night huddling together in the reception area, hoping and praying Ann would be brought back to us. The emergency doctor walked slowly towards us and said, "I'm sorry. But we did all we could. Your friend Ann has passed away."

"Why? What happened? There was no warning. Nothing."

"She died of a brain aneuryism. A blod clot. We could see it on our scan. I'm very sorry."

Sixteen years old, and that's it. That alone would have made this a special kind of event. But even more would happen to change my life. It occurred while we were on our way to the cemetery. I, and five other friends were asked to be pall bearers. Among us was the oldest fellow, Leroy McKenzie. He acted like our mentor in the group because he always had interesting topics to discuss.

"Do you realize that there was a time when the dead were not embalmed. Embalming began when it was realized there were so-called deceased in a catatonic state, who were buried alive."

"Come on Lee! This is no time to tell one of your weird stories."

"It's true. Did you ever hear about Thomas a'Kempis?"

"Who was he?"

"A very holy monk who wrote a very famous book of religious meditations called, "The Imitation of Christ. After he had been recommended for canonization, Church officials ordered his grave be opened. They believed God would give them a sign called "The Odour of Sanctity" which made the corpse smell like flowers instead of corruption. When they opened the coffin, they found Thomas lying on his stomach, with a fistfull of his hair."

"You're weird McKenzie."

"It's true. They decided he must have been buried alive, and in his struggle to get out, he may have cursed God. For that reason, he was never declared a saint."

You have no idea how much Leroy's story affected all of us. As we got out at the cemetery, the coffin was pulled out of the hearse and we all grabbed our handles and started our extremely slippery walk to the grave. That's when it happened. I was on the front right side, when I lost my footing and fell down on my right knee. Dropping the end of the coffin I could feel the body change position and knock against the side of the box. The banging sound was loud enough to hear, The story of Thomas was still uppermost in my mind, and all I could think of was, maybe Ann is still alive, and was trying to tell us. Ann's death has always been a special event in my life, and now you know why.

Christmas Snake by William James Johnson

2005-05-04T10:54:00.000-04:00

Many years ago, when I was a teenager, and knew almost everything, I experienced a strange encounter. It happened a few weeks before Christmas Eve, on an unusually heavy snow stormy night. My three friends and I were trucking through the deep drifts, on our way home after a choir practise for midnight Mass, when we saw the dark outline of a small cottage, a couple hundred feet back from the road, almost lost behind the broken wire fence, packed with snow.

We stopped and studied closely the mysterious shape that appeared to be barely able to keep its roof line above the drift which was rising along the north wall. The porch railings disappeared into the blowing whiteness. A dim light through the torn green window blinds was a sign there was still life in the shell of a house.

"Who do you think lives there?" asked Carol, my at-that-time girlfriend.

"I've heard that there is a weird witch, who uses herbs for healing. I'm not sure, and I don't think anyone knows for sure."

"My dad told us once to keep away from there. He said that her son was the guy who did the slasher murders."

"I remember that. Isn't he the guy who was going to kill all the queers he could, because he had been attacked by one when he was a kid. Didn't they lock him up in the nut house," commented Terry.

"Maybe we should take off", said Marie. "There's no way we are going to find out anything ourselves."

"We could always knock on the door, and ask them."

"Are you out of your mind."

"So what can happen? There's four of us. You guys wait here and I'll go and see what I can find out."

They waited outside the fence as I trudged towards the front porch. I was thinking about how I could approach. I knocked and waited. As the door squeeked open, I saw my friends running away, leaving me alone.

"How do you do sir. Is Mr. Kelly home?"

"There ain't no Kelly. I'm Sullivan. Joe Sullivan, and we've lived here since there were no houses between here and Sacred Heart Church. But I'm sorry there ain't no Kelly."

Joe Sullivan was a short, wiry man in his early 80s, dressed in long johns, covered with paint spattered overalls. His reddish Irish face had deep laugh lines, framing his bluish blod shot eyes. I had no fear of him. In fact he made me feel welcome from the sound of his Irish accent.

"Come in young fellow. Kinda miserable night to be looking for your friend Kelly."

It was then I realized that all the walls of this small cabin had been covered with old newspapers pasted in layers to keep out the drafts. But even more than that, were numerous primitive paintings of bizarre scenes, displayed on all the walls.

"My gawd! Who did these wonderful paintings?"

"What is your name son?"

"My friends call me wild Bill, but just Bill is enough."

"I spent most of my life on ships in the Merchant Marine. That's why there is so many different pictures. Do you know, I make my own brushes out of my collie dog's tail. I love painting."

"I do too Joe. But I have never seen such a wide collection of subjects."

"Many of these I have done from memory."

"You are incredible. I'm so glad I knocked on your door Joe."

"You weren't really looking for a Kelly now were you?"

"Sorry about that. I was just being nosey."

"That's what I figured. Now take a closer look at me pictures and tell me which one you like the most."

"Thats it Joe. The one with the snake eating the black native."

"Good choice. I actually saw that happen in South Africa during the Boer war. You've got good taste wild Bill." With that, he took the painting down and gave it to me. "Here you are lad. This way I know you'll always remember me."

"Oh I couldn't take your favorite picture Joe."

"Please take it and show it to all your friends. It's a Christmas present. You can tell them it is your Christmas Snake."

Becky and Friends

2005-04-27T08:32:00.000-04:00

Becky and Friends B6

Becky called me the other day, sounding very excited. When she does this, I always feel she is about to do a number on me.

"Oh grampa! I saw the sweetest Himalayan kitten I have ever seen. It was the only one left in the pet store, and I just had to tell you about it."

"That's nice. Thanks for calling."

"Wait grampa. Don't hang up. I just want to ask you if you could let me borrow $400.00. That's really a good price. These marvelous pure bred kittens usually sell for over $600.00. And it has papers and everything."

"What everything? I don't know what you mean."

"You know like shots, and the vet will include its own carrying case, and stuff like that. Please grampa, could you lend me the $400.00?"

"Tell me Becky what pets you have now."

"Not many. You know Stella, our Irish water spaniel, the one who loves swimming in your pool. You even call her your grand dog. And Spencer, our almost Himalayan cat, who is already six years old, and the vet says he could last another six years. And of course the two gold fish, and that cute little gerbil. That's it grampa, and if you ask mom she will tell you how kind I am with my friends."

"What about your poodle Sparky?"

"He's not real grampa. You made him up for your cartoon series. And that is one of the reasons I thought you would give me the money for the kitten."

"But I don't get any money for the series."

"Then why do you do it if you don't get paid for it?"

"For fun. Just like you with your friends. And I noticed you are now asking for the money and I haven't heard how you are going to pay me back."

"If you really want me to pay you back, I'll find a way."

"Why don't you and your friend set up a lemonade stand in your front yard and sell cool drinks. In fact, I'll buy the lemons. You better get started right away. Someone else may get the kitten before you can afford it. Bye Becky. Call again. I love talking with you."

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Trees Hold Up the Sky 30 William James Johnson

2005-04-11T08:52:00.000-04:00

In the fall of 2020, the long awaited report on the cave mural of Atabapo was released to the scientific community. Its shocking apocalyptic revelations became the single most important factor in the rapidly diminishing influence in formal religion's impact on society. By the time the report was completed, several of the events predicted had come to pass. Dr. Jess Martin and his associate Dr. Laura Mason, shared Nobel honours for their highly creative interpretation of ancient hierology, the sacred literature of pre-hominid creatures.

Carbon dating of the pigment used in creating the magnificent mural established the date of origin, prior to 500,000 years, the oldest communication ever discovered between an ancient civilization and modern man. The figures in the mural which resembled those seen at Ahuntipec, were judged to be creatures from another universe that had deliberately come to planet earth to fulfill what was for them, a sacred mission. These wonderful beings brought with them the secret of immortality, which they wished to give to mankind, whose own limited evolution made it impossible for early man to adapt. It was this repeated failure of man to advance, which led to the end of the alien struggle.

Both scientists interpreted this conclusion as probably being the origin of mankind's "Creation" myth and the expelling of our first parents from paradise. It was that fundamental judgment which resulted in the condemnation of the report findings by the world's organized religions. They were accused of doing the work of Satan, attempting to place science above traditional theology. The scientists attributed the motive of these aliens, who were several levels beyond man in evolution, to be pure creatures who wished to use their advanced knowledge in making earth a place of perfection.

Included in their gift of immortality, was their unending energy source which was alien to the radiation scientists given this portion of the problem to study. Dr. Ama Kahn couldn't conceive an energy source which was not entropic, which he decided was the basis for the immortality of the creatures, and was probably the method of time travel used to arrive across the space time spectrum. An eternal energy source, and immortal beings were as close to infinity as could ever be imagined. The mural contained an immense sphere, radiating whirling energy traces as the mode of transportation used to reach planet Earth. It was this unknown energy source still present in the cave mural which caused the radiation problems for the cave photographers whose bodies were not able to adapt, resulting in their gruesome deaths.

The visitors were called Nefertites by the Atabapo scientists because of their uncanny resemblance to the beautiful Queen of the Nile. The time line calculated in the mural, indicated that these visitors remained on earth for over 100,000 years, studying in great detail, the true nature of mankind. They made the alarming discovery, that man is unable to continue for more than 12,000 years before completely destroying himself. It was this realization, which resulted eventually in the Nefertites decision to go to another galaxy where they might discover other creatures who might be willing to accept the gift of immortality.

The ancient belief by the Hindus in a cyclical world, which transited through time in 12,000 year segments, corresponded to the theory of human existence discovered by the Nefertites, and was given the esoteric name by Hindu holymen, of Kali Yuga.

The fantastic mural was given by these spiritual visitors to their hosts as a sacred map of existence for hominids. Teleological in intent, the mural was the result of observation, after closely observing how man deals with change, and the evidence there was no basis for believing that man could rise above his animal nature, and take on the responsibility of protecting his environment for future immortal beings.

The Nefertites knew primitive man would progress from the basic survival mode, to the most advanced intellectual being on earth. In the final stages of each cycle, man would transfer problem solving to his own greater creations called cybernauts, and when this occurred, he would no longer have control over the environment which he massively destroyed.

This is the future these imperfect creatures experienced over and over again. It is no wonder, the Nefertites gave up on man. Their goodness was exquisitely manifested in their message to our age. They need not bother doing such a tremendous task, but as angels, they wanted to leave us something which will help us change. We may not become immortal, but we can still believe we never end. What we do now will determine what our energy will provide future generations. We must stop polluting our nest. Water is finite and it can be turned into a sewer for all mankind. When that happens, conjoined with poisonous gases in the atmosphere, will precipitate the end of this cycle. Cancer, Aids, starvation, nuclear threat, global wars, the end of religion, all are inevitable unless we learn the secrets of the sacred Atabapo Cave.

That's my story. I would appreciate any comments you wish to make...thanks Wild Bill.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 29 William James Johnson

2005-04-11T08:27:00.000-04:00

Two hours into the flight, the steady hum of the Severski had a calming effect on everyone, lulling them into a light sleep. Below was the winding Orinoco River which Jess used as a navigational aid heading for Caracas. One of the major rivers in south America, the Orinoco whose name is derived from Guarano, meaning "a place to paddle," originates in the Guiana Highlands and travels north west, and returns east, a distance of approximately 1400 miles, to empty into the Atlantic ocean.

The brilliant morning sun had completely disappeared, giving way to the westerly movement of a low pressure system which provided intermittent showers, and large streaks of lightening and roars of thunder which drowned out the monotonous drone of the engine. The turbulence alerted the passengers to confirm nothing had broken loose during the surging up and down with the passage of the frontal system.

"Sorry folks. Not much I can do about this weather. Our forecast said there would be possible storms on this route, but it should clear up before Puerto Ayacucho, which is about 100 miles north. Make sure you tighten your seat belts. I sure don't want any of you injured in this turbulence."

"We're all okay Jess," said Hank. "Any problem maintaining this altitude?"

"The Russians sure built a good machine. It doesn't have all the refinements we had in our yankee whirlybirds, but it feels like it was made to last," said Jess reassuringly. Suddenly the huge craft felt like it was dropping out of the sky, plunging toward the drenched greenery below.

"Whoa! Give me more power Tomaso. We better get back up where we belong. Turn on the radar and see if we have any traffic in the area."

Tomaso had been well trained and was confident that Jess, with his many years in combat where he had to make rapid decisions, could control the Severski. Hank noticed a recurring banging sound outside the aircraft after its last drop in altitiude.

"Is it my imagination, or can you hear it too?" asked Hank.

"Hear what? Just the storm and the engine. What are you talking about?" asked Jess.

"There it is again. Sounds like something might be loose and is crashing against the bottom of the plane."

"Take control Tomaso. I'm going back to have a look."

Not only could he hear the sound, but he felt there was something striking against the bottom. Carefully he opened the sliding side door far enough to lean outside to check what caused the banging. The connector cable for one of the missiles had become detached from the aircraft socket, and the cable was swinging below the plane, occasionally coming upwards into the bottom of the aircraft. Jess came back inside to tell everyone what had happened.

"The power cable to our hot bird has come loose and I've got to fix it."

"How are you going to do that?" asked Hank.

"I'll need a couple of you to sit on me while I lean out as far as I can to reattach the plug. I can use the landing gear as a support for my free arm, but this is going to be quite a reach. Let's give it a go."

"Is it absolutely necessary to plug it in again?" asked Hank.

"If we don't, it might come loose and if it pulls away from us, the electronics on board could make it turn around and fly at us seeking our heat source. Sorry guys, but there's no other way."

"Why not just release it by firing it from your panel up front?" suggested Gonzalo.

"Same problem. When it is released, since it is not fastened securely, it might drop away from the Severski and it could end up searching for us and it would be game over. As a matter of fact, in the condition it is in now, we would not be permitted to land at Caracas. It's called a bomb hangup. Can you imagine what would happen if the weapon dropped on landing, and fired off at a commercial airport? Let's quit this stalling, and get it done."

He opened the side door of the Severski and slowly extended himself out into the cold drizzle, with Hank and Gonzalo bearing down on his legs. Struggling to grasp the swinging electrical cable, trying to fasten it into its socket, the lower half of his body felt pinned to the floor of the aircraft. A tremendous gust of wind struck the port side of the helicopter causing it to veer violently to the starboard. Both Hank and Gonzalo reacting instinctively to the change of the plane's position, rose up from Jess' legs momentarily, giving him a weightless sensation.

"Christ Tomaso! Fly the sonovabitch. Don't let it fly you," screamed Jess over the thrashing sound of the wind that was intensifying as they continued northward. "Okay guys, lets give it another try."

"Sorry Jess. It won't happen again," said Hank, relieved they grabbed him on time.

Stretched outside the aircraft beyond his waist, his arms trembling in the buffeting wind, he patiently made the connection. The biggest problem now was trying to screw in the locking housing which had not been properly fastened when the weapon was loaded the first time. Jess didn't want to strip the thread, which would prevent him from securing the device, essential for a successful firing of the missile if the need should arise. Seconds felt like minutes enduring the heavy rain, and blasting squall. At last it was done and they pulled him back inside the helicopter.

Estrelle was waiting with a large towel she had unpacked, while Laura pulled off his soaken clothing. Together they had him dry and smiling within minutes.

"Who was the guy who said we shouldn't leave home without them?" His sense of humour discharged the tremendous tension they had just endured.

"Fantastic Jess. You never cease to amaze me," said Hank.

"I'm okay guys. Just let me get up there and relieve Tomaso. Oh by the way, I don't have to tell you what I was thinking when you both lost contact with my legs do I?"

Within several minutes they passed through the northern edge of the storm, and were visually on track above the Orinoco. Radar confirmed they were within 70 miles of the airport at Ayacucho. Also on the radar Jess saw a blip from the south near Atabapo, rapidly proceeding in their direction. A few minutes later, a high pitched signal came from one of the black boxes on the control panel, followed by a flashing orange number.

"What's happening now captain?" asked Tomaso.

"IFF signal has been challenged."

"I don't understand. What is IFF?"

"It means Identification Friend or Foe. It was used during the air war in Europe, and it looks like the Russians have included that old code method of verifying radar contacts in their gunship."

"Could this signal be coming from the tower at Ayacucho?"

"IFF is normally used between airborne craft to determine who the radar contact is so that no mistakes are made shooting at friendly aircraft."

Their conversation was interrupted by the clear sound of a Spanish American accent on the aircraft radio.

"Severski Atabapo this is Executive Jet 1000, do you read over?"

"One thousand...loud and clear."

"Is this Captain Jess Martin speaking? Over."

"Yes it is. May I ask who wants to know?"

"This is General Cervantes. I was expecting to take all of you back to Bogota, as I was commanded by General Obispo. I was disappointed when I was told by the radio operator at San Fernando de Atabapo that you left at dawn this morning."

"That is correct. When we got word of the tragic events in Bogota, we were ordered to return to the United States as soon as possible, and that's what we're doing."

"But Captain Martin, you cannot just disappear like this without getting approval from the Colombian government first."

"From what we have heard on the radio, there is no government of Colombia at this time," said Jess, sarcastically.

"You are correct Captain. We have suffered a temporary disruption in our administration because of the cowardly assassination of General Obispo. Before his murder, the Secretary of State promoted me to the position of Chief of Defense. It is in that capacity that I am carrying out the General's commands. I am ordering you to land at Puerto Ayacucho, and return with me to Bogota."

"Thank you, but no thanks. You have no authority over us."

"The Severski is the property of the government of Colombia, and I am prepared to charge you with grand theft. If you do not cooperate, I will have to use force to bring you down."

"You're just bluffing Pablo. What kind of force do you have on an executive jet?"

"Have you forgotten we have had all our DEA aircraft outfitted with wing mounted 50mm cannons. Land at Ayacucho and let's put an end to this senseless killing."

"You realize General, we have three of your countrymen with us?"

"Even more reason why we should settle this without violence. I'm sure Professor de Quesada would want to return to Bogota with me. We need this wonderful man to help us end this revolt."

"They urged us to let them come to the U.S. to continue our scientific work and we need their expertise. I'm sure your cultural secretary would understand the importance of keeping this team together. They are with us, and I can assure you, they will remain with us."

"Are you saying that Professor de Quesada has agreed to flee his country with you? This I find very hard to believe. Gonzalo is a true patriot, and his country needs him at this tragic time. Please let me speak to him for a moment."

"Pablo, this is Gonzalo. Dr. Martin has clearly explained my wishes. I will be going back with them to Washington. Please look after my family, and tell them I love them."

"Are you mad? We need you to help us bring stability to our government, and all you can say is 'tell your family you love them.' I cannot guarantee their safety during this zambo uprising. You've got to land at Puerto Ayacucho and come back with me."

"General, this is Jess Martin again. You heard Gonzalo. I urge you, don't start doing something you will regret."

Cervantes realized he was getting nowhere, and switched his approach. "Ayacucho tower, this is Executive Jet 1000, do you read over?"

"Five square 1000. Over."

"This is General Cervantes speaking. I must know now how many DEA aircraft you have at your location, over."

"Sorry General. All DEA aircraft left for Bogota when they heard about the uprising in your capital."

"When did they leave?"

"At first light this morning General."

"Damn. We have to force down our Severski aircraft which was stolen by an American crew with three hostages on board."

"Please note General, we have the Severski on radar. May I remind you, this would be a violation of Venezuelan air space. If you use force to capture your craft, this could be seen as an act of war."

"Goddamn it. It is an act of war. Severski, this is your last chance. Land at Ayacucho and surrender, or be shot down."

Hank looked at Jess' poker face, trying desperately to get an indication of what he would do.

"That little bastard is going to try to shoot us down," said Jess. "Lucky for us he doesn't know about our missiles. I'm going to try to stall him for a few minutes."

"General Cervantes, could you give me fifteen minutes to discuss your offer with my associates."

"You've got ten minutes. Then I will fly directly at you, and fire my 50MMs. The shells will be directed above you to confirm I can blast you out of the sky. The second pass will not be a warning. Is that understood?"

"Acknowledged. Thank you General. I will get back to you as soon as we have a decision."

Jess turned and faced his passengers. "Well there it is gang. The bastard is going to shoot us down. He doesn't want us to land and surrender. He wants to solve this problem his way, which is to destroy us, and fabricate whatever scenario he can sell to the powers back in Bogota."

"So what do you think Jess"? asked Hank.

"I say we wait until he makes his threatening pass, and as he flys over I immediately turn in his direction and blast the hell out of Jet 1000. I hope to hell these smokers are serviceable. I don't see we have any other choice."

In a few minutes, Tomaso saw the sleek outline of the jet, nose to nose, bearing down on them. Jess had decided not to speak to Cervantes again. A few thousand feet away, the General pointed the nose upward and began firing his cannon. Trails of smoke descended on the Severski. Following his plan, Jess rapidly deployed the helicopter to align it with the jet pulling away in front of them. Without delay, he activated the firing buttons on the missiles. A loud exhaust noise and powerful wind on each side of the Severski confirmed the firing was successful. Two smoky jet trails behind the missiles tracked directly onto Jet 1000. A huge fire ball and metal shards sprayed across the distant horizon.

"Wow! Now that's what I call insurance," said Jess.

"We circled the Severski above the burning debris, confirming there were no survivors. Massive clouds of smoke obliterated any recognizable shape.

"Puerto Ayacucho, this is Severski Atabapo, reporting the crash of Jet 1000, approximately 65 miles south of your position."

"Acknowledged Severski. Can you confirm if there are any survivors?"

"Negative. Wreckage is blazing, and the surrounding jungle appears to have been ignited by the crash."

"Severski, have you been damaged?"

"Negative Ayacucho. We are proceeding to Caracas. Severski over and out."

Jess removed his headset and indicated to Tomaso what heading to steer. He got out of the cockpit and came back with the others.

"Can you believe this?"

"He didn't give you any choice," said Gonzalo. "Pablo has always been an opportunist. You were right when you said he had no intention of taking us back to Bogota. Destroying us would eliminate a serious problem for the one who seizes power now that Obispo is dead. And I have no doubt Pablo thought he would be that leader."

"The tower at Ayacucho has all our transmissions. If they passed them on to Bogota, that might give the Colombian government a basis for charging us with air piracy," said Hank.

"But no one knew we were carrying missiles. There is no way our transmissions gave any indication we were armed. I suggest we maintain radio silence until we refuel in Caracas."

Tomaso called Jess to come forward. "The operator at Puerto Ayacucho wants to speak with you Captain." Jess returned to the flight deck, and put his headset in position.

"This is Severski, you wanted to speak to me?"

"Affirmative. Air Control would like to know what you saw before the crash of Jet 1000."

"Roger tower. The aircraft appeared to be out of control, rising up and down as it flew towards us, then it went overhead, and it had a flame out. I turned towards the jet and saw the pilot was attempting a restart, when there was a sudden explosion, followed by a large ball of fire, and pieces of metal going in all directions. That's it control. Sorry we couldn't be of more help."

"Thank you Severski. Ayacucho over and out."

The remainder of the flight to Caracas was uneventful. The US government credit card was accepted in payment for the full fuel load, and the Russian helicopter headed for the Marine base at Guantanamo. In Cuba, Colonel Percy Hawkins met the plane with his staff car, and took them to his office for a debriefing.

"Have you heard the latest from Bogota?" asked the Colonel.

"Can't say that we have," replied Hank.

"Apparently there's an all out drug war going on, including aircraft bombing. Seems as though Obispo was deep into the cartel business, and had amassed a fortune. Apparently he planned to take over the country by force and set up a Castro-style government. Now the revolution is going to be between the rebel zambos and the Medellin forces. You're lucky you got out of there alive. Obispo's chosen successor, General Cervantes crashed in the jungle. As far as we know, he had engine trouble on his jet, and when he tried to restart it after a flame out, the damn thing blew up. Now while my chef is getting us something to eat, tell me about this great discovery you have made."

Hank told him about the mural and the fact that the significance of it all still had to be determined when they returned to their labs in Washington. No one mentioned about the creatures they had seen on the far side of the sacred mountain of Ahuntipec.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 28 William James Johnson

2005-04-10T17:29:00.000-04:00

Three days after the raid on Arumba's camp, the beaten rebel leader, his shoulders distorted by the torturous thongs which constrained his arms, stood before the victorious Fernandez Obispo. Resplendent in his immaculate white uniform, the General relished this moment, demeaning his black captive.

"What a waste. You idealistic fool. Instead of ending up a beaten dog, you could have joined me, in the rebuilding of our country. In time, you might even have become El Supremo. But what did I get with your capture? A fugitive gringo, a murderer at that, who will help me more by your execution than your impossible revolution.

"You're bluffing General. Surely you're not stupid enough to believe that destroying me will end the social change we demand. Justice will prevail. Execute me, and I promise, my followers will search you out, and make you pay with your life. You have misjudged the seriousness of our zambo movement."

Obispo despised the boldness of his threats, but secretly admired the strength of his character. Arumba would have been the ideal person to recapture the spirit of the Chibcha people who for generations had been subjugated by the intrusion of outsiders on their simple lives.

"Keep this black bastard out of the camera range while I make my announcement. Soon my friend you will see what I have in store for you."

Within minutes the General was being seen throughout Colombia, on prime time television. The magnificent polished wood paneling at the Secretariat of the Interior provided a dignified background for the handsome latino. Majestic in his sparkling white tunic, framed by gold shoulder epaulettes, the distinguished leader straightened his notes before addressing his audience.

"My dear fellow Colombians. I have waited a long time for this important moment. I am proud of our hard working people. From the original Chibchas to our blended races, you have proven Colombians are survivors.

"For many years, we have been in an all out war against the evil drug trade. Not only my fellow Colombians, but the entire world has condemned us for our indecision to deal effectively with this serious problem. Tremendous wealth has come from the enormous demand for drugs grown and processed in our land. This opportunity to accumulate unbelievable amounts of U.S. currency, has motivated the worst kind of business dealings aimed at taking control of our economy. Murder, torture, treason, are all the by-products of this nefarious activity.

"At dawn three days ago, I ordered an attack in the eastern San Fernando area, on one of the most secluded drug compounds in our country. Miles from civilization and government observation, this activity, under cover of the jungle, has been growing out of control. Not only did our raid bring to an end the insidious drug processing, but my trained teams captured the notorious leader, who calls himself "Arumba". This fugitive black American murderer shot and killed in cold blood, a famous civil rights worker in the U.S., before escaping to Colombia, where disguised as a rebel leader, he has been spreading his evil influence.

"As horrible as drug dealing has become, this underground terrorist movement led by Arumba, sworn to bring down the legitimate government of Colombia could destroy our nation. This renegade American has been forming rebel groups of zambos whom he has been training in the jungle, supported by U.S. funds from the Miami underworld. Arming his men with the latest in offensive weapons, which thankfully were seized when he was taken, I am proud to announce today, that the capture of this vile leader will end his treason, and restore peace to our country."

The General reached for a large leather bound text and opened it. "Under these Colombian Criminal Statutes, anyone found guilty of the crime of treason, must by law, be executed in a public area, to provide the general populace, an example of the swiftness of justice when the safety of the nation is threatened. As your Secretary of the Interior, I have the distinct right and responsibility to administer final justice in this horrendous crime.

"At midday tomorrow, Arnold Turner, alias Arumba, will be executed by firing squad at the Antiquities Museum,in Bolivar Square. As part of my solemn duty I accept the responsibility for this awesome decision. I wish to invite you to come with your families to witness this historic public execution, and I promise my fellow Colombians, that I, Fernandez Obispo, will do whatever I must to ensure our country survives in these troubled times."

When the announcement was finished, the television went blank, followed by a musical interlude. Obispo approached Arumba who having witnessed these outrageous lies, shook his head in disbelief. This silent gesture aggravated the strutting officer. Using his riding crop which he carried whenever he wore his military uniform, Obispo took a fierce swipe at the beaten black leader's face.

"So you think this is fun and games do you? When I get done with you, you'll be begging me to kill you."

"Have you forgotten what happened with the death of Che?" asked Arumba. "Whatever you do to me, you will be digging a deeper hole for yourself. Kill me, and ten others will take my place. You could have had it all if you were honest with the people, but you are like all those uniformed puppets who came before you. You lose touch with reality and the people, and you begin to believe you can walk on water."

This time the frustrated Obispo took a full swing with his gloved fist, landing squarely on the side of Arumba's face. His bleeding head caromed off his shoulder and a fresh stream of red surged out of his torn mouth, and traced an irregular path over his whipped-scarred, muscular chest.

"That's the trouble with you blacks. You've never learned your proper place. The only thing you understand is the use of power to keep you in line."

Arumba raised his damaged head, standing erect. His beaten body glistened in the brilliance of the television lights which had been set up in the office for the broadcast.

"Your Spanish ancestors captured my defenseless people in their raids on small villages, and herded them into ships to enslave them for the rest of their lives. Is this what you mean about our proper place? You are the lowest of creatures Fernandez. You and your kind have tried for generations to obliterate us, but now our time has come. My zambos will drive you into hell before this is over."

Infuriated again by Arumba's insubordination, Obispo smashed his fist into his bleeding face, cursing the red stain which marred the pristine white of his glove.
"Get this piece of shit out of my sight," ordered the General. "Tell Captain Cervantes I want to see him.... Now."

Within a few minutes, Pedro Cervantes in his ceremonial pilot's uniform entered the secretary's office.

"Bravo General. That was some show you put on."

"I'm not through yet. We've got to give the people something they will always remember. Now is the time to make our move."

"You're going to shoot the guy, what more can you do?"

"What would you think, if I had a cross set up on the steps of the museum and we chain the black bastard to it, before I give the orders to shoot him?"

"Whoa. Just a bit heavy don't you think."

"This has to be an event the world must remember. I want everyone to see I mean business."

"You asked me what I think, and I've got to admit General, crucifixion of a blackman on TV will get the world's attention, but don't you think it would be overdoing it. A neat military execution party which moves smartly to the area and takes up their place, and acts upon your order to shoot is more professional, and you don't leave yourself open to the criticism of the world media. Remember what they did to the Romanian dictator and his wife. They took them outside the building and shot them. No fanfare. No fuss. Just an end to their abuse. It was neat and efficient, but anyone who saw it on TV, will always remember it. I say you should do it as a military tribunal would. Its more dignified that way."

"Dignified. You might be right Pedro. I will think about it. I should be more dignified."

"You want the world to remember you, not Arumba. You put him on a cross, and you might as well have him canonized. Shoot the son-of-a-bitch and get on with taking control of Colombia. The people will praise you as the leader who helped to end the drug racket and brought law and order to our land."

"And you will be my new Secretary of Defense."

"Whatever you say General. I want you to win this struggle. And you know how much I like winners."

Obispo hugged his young officer and kissed him on each cheek. "You are like a son to me Pedro. I am so proud of you. If anything happens to me, I know you will continue the struggle. I want you to go to my tailor today, and have him change the captain's rank on your uniform to that of General. I will announce your promotion to the world tomorrow, after we rid ourselves of that crazy American."

"Was that it General? Is there anything else?"

"Yes there is something else. Professor de Quesada. I'm not sure I agree with your evaluation of Gonzalo."

"He could be trouble sir. Gonzalo is a true patriot. He's never been able to accept what you did to Garvas. I don't think he can be trusted."

"You know the old saying, ‘Better is the enemy I know, than the enemy I don't know.'"

"I believe better is the enemy I can destroy, than the enemy who can destroy me," added Pedro.

"I have to remember how the people trust Gonzalo. And so far, he has been loyal to me. Even if it would be for only a short time, I think we need him for the transition. When we are through with this public execution, I want you to go to Atabapo and bring Gonzalo back. I will offer him my job as Secretary of the Interior. If he has any passion for his country, he will surely do what he can to help us succeed in the take over. He's not the kind of person who would choose war over peace. Do you see what I'm proposing Pedro?"

"I see it General, but I also see a real risk here. Gonzalo may try to prevent your coup, and once he is in power, he could be impossible to put down."

"We will continue with this discussion after we have finalized the Arumba problem.
You go now and get your new rank put on your uniform. I want you to be the symbol of dynamic change in our land."

Pedro left Obispo's office and paused in front of a large mirror in the ante-room. Tugging at the lower edges of his tunic, he flattened the wrinkles. Pushing back the fringes of hair which stuck out of his hat, he decided he should get a trim before the big day. He glanced around to ensure no one was watching then he spoke softly, "Ladies and Gentlemen it is my honour to present the new Secretary of Defense, General Pedro Cervantes."

The next morning at Atabapo, the only affirmation that Arumba was in custody, was the daily fax from Gonzalo's office in the Antiquities Museum. With the urging of Gonzalo, Hank decided they should pack up their research data and prepare the Severski for a flight to the U.S. Army Airbase in Florida, where the drug smuggling helicopters had been serviced. Included in the fax was notification that Captain Cervantes would be coming to bring the professor back to Bogota in a few days..
In the time remaining, Jess wanted to make another flight to Ahuntipec to see the alien creatures in the daylight, but Hank felt it would be too risky if something should happen to their aircraft, essential in their escape plan. Compromising, he and his colleagues, including Gonzalo, put on their protective gear to make one last, underground excursion into the cave to take a brief look at some of the side tunnels they had passed daily when they were recording the mural. Hank felt the geologic conditions of limestone erosion which produced countless tunnels could possibly be linked to the giant caverns, as was discovered in the Mammoth cave in Kentucky. There was a chance they might even lead to the sacred mountain.

"As much as I would like to stay indefinitely, and map all these tunnels, I've got to keep our focus on decoding the mural," said Hank.

"And getting back to your country before the shooting begins," assured Gonzalo. "You must escape while you can, and that means now, no later than tomorrow."

"Who knows?" asked Laura. "When the political situation is improved, we could all return to complete our work. I know for one, I would be willing to come back."

They approached another fork in the cave which sent the tunnel in two different directions. No one had come this far before. Their lights shone off a multihued design in the distant darkness.

"My gawd. I don't believe it," said Jess. "Another mural. It's got to be. Who wants to come with me and get a good look at it?"

"Can I come? " asked Estrelle.

"There might be radiation like the other mural," said Hank. "Even in these suits I wouldn't take the chance if I were you. We sure as hell don't need to risk our only pilot being poisoned now that we've decided to go back home. Please don't do this Jess."

"You're right Hank.. This is one I owe you Estrelle, when and if we ever come back."

After a tedious day of hiking in the blackness of the cave, the weary scientists returned to the opening, and climbed out into a brilliant starry night, met by an excited Stuart Macgregor.

"Thank God you're back. All hell has broken loose in Bogota."

"What do you mean?" asked Hank.

"Obispo is dead."

"What?" exclaimed Gonzalo in shock.

"He was going to make an example of Arumba and execute him publicly as a traitor to the Colombian Peoples' Movement, when there was an assault by a group of revolutionaries under the leadership of Carlos Mendoza."

"Mendoza! He was killed during the attack on Atabapo," said a surprised Gonzalo.

"He wasn't killed," said Hank. "Apparently he and Arumba go back a long way. In fact I got the impression they were good friends before they decided to change sides. When he was in the raid, he gave him one more chance to live. Arumba could have shot him like the other two guys,but chose not to. Please continue Stu."

"After torturing him, Obispo's guys brought Arumba to the Secretariat in chains, where Obispo continued the violence. When he was finished beating him, the General made a TV appearance telling the public he was going to end the treason of underground groups who were trying to take over control of the government. He even told the nation, the rebel leader Arumba was actually a black American fugitive Arnold Turner wanted for murder in the U.S. That's when he said, he would have his firing squad execute the traitor in Bolivar square.

"Thousands gathered throughout the afternoon to see the destruction of a miserable gringo whose only purpose in life was to undermine the well-being of the poor people of the world. He must have been planning this for some time. His men were trying to chain Arumba to a cross on the steps of his building. Can you believe that...a cross. In fact, the time it took to stage the event may actually have saved Arumba's life. It gave the snipers time to get into position. His firing squad in their official white and gold uniforms marched in line to face the doomed black man.

"Before Obispo could give the order to shoot, a sniper's bullet struck him between the eyes, and the General fell over backward, blood drizzling down the side of his face into the white collar of his uniform. Within seconds, the firing squad toppled like dominoes, one after the other. The panic is still going on as we speak. Several hundred have been killed or wounded. I can't believe it. All within the last few hours."

"And Arumba?" asked Jess.

"The news say he has disappeared, along with Carlos Mendoza. And something else. There was another fax which said the new Secretary of Defense, General Cervantes will be coming here to-morrow morning to bring Gonzalo and all of us back to Bogota."

"Cervantes? Is this the same Captain Pedro Cervantes who was Obispo's pilot? asked Gonzalo.

"In fact Cervantes announced he is going to fill Obispo's job as Secretary of the Interior, until you can be sworn in professor," said Stu
.
They were all stunned by the news. Gonzalo was the first to grasp the political ramifications of the events.

"That's it Hank. Let's get the Severski loaded now so that we can escape at first light."

Jess and Tomaso worked under the battery lights throughout the night, checking the weight of equipment being loaded, ensuring they would not exceed the safety tolerances. By early morning they calculated they could carry all the passengers and the scientific gear, plus a full fuel load, with a safety margin of about 3000 pounds.

"We want you to come with us Gonzalo. There is no knowing what awaits you in Bogota if Cervantes takes you back," said Hank.

"But my family!"

"You aren't going to be able to help them if you end up like Estrelle's father. You've got to come with us, and let our government decide what it can do for Colombia. I don't think it will tolerate another Cuba in this hemisphere."

"Say Hank," asked Jess, "I've been wondering what you would say, if Tomaso and I loaded a couple of heat seeker missiles under our craft. We've got enough weight tolerance, and it could give us an extra edge in case our new General insists on stopping our escape."

"You're the one with the combat experience. Whatever you decide. I have to rely on your judgement."

"I say better safe than sorry. Come on Tomaso, let's get some of those zambos to help us install our birds."

Laura and Estrelle were busy securing the precious scientific gear. The morning sun was breaking through the eastern jungle and the mugginess of the swamp outside the camp began to infiltrate the air.

"It's done Hank", said Laura. "Anything else you would like us to do?"

"Thanks. Jess is almost ready."

Laura looked under the Severski.

"Okay. I'll bite. Is someone going to tell me that those are not missiles."

"Call it insurance. You know the old saying ' Don't leave home without them' ", said Jess.

"You're serious?"

"If we can get away before Cervantes shows up, we'll turn them over to the USAF. But if that bastard makes any attempt to force us down, I won't have to think twice about taking the initiative."

"So what is our flight plan?" asked Hank.

"Our first leg will take us to Caracas. It's about five hundred miles due north. We can refuel there using our government credit card. Then it's north west to our American base, Guantanamo, in Cuba. If we still have our rockets, we can leave them with the marines before we head for Harrison Air Base in south Florida."

"Have you filed a flight plan with the Department of Transport, in case we have problems?"

"Stu sent our plan over a security line before packing our gear. The coded message can be read only on a need to know basis. Don't worry Hank, I think we've got every thing covered. Let's head for home."

They both shook hands with the zambos who had worked so hard for them, assuring them Arumba would soon be back to lead them in their struggle against the cartels, and in their fight for independence. The rumbling of the Severski rotors blowing grass and dust, and the slow lift off of the grey hulk, turning gradually northward, gave them all a satisfying feeling that before the day was over, they would be back home.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 27 William James Johnson

2005-04-10T09:02:00.000-04:00

By the time Jess landed at Atabapo, it was late in the afternoon. His three associates and Gonzalo stood near the idling Severski, waiting for the blades to come to a stop.

"Travelling is nice, but it's always great to get back home," said Jess jokingly.

Estrelle rushed forward and hugged him. "Whoa! Maybe I should leave home more often." He saw the serious expression on Hank's face and felt instinctively something was wrong.

"Don't be mad chief. I had to go. Arumba was in a bad way. Couldn't just wait and let Obispo and his guys take him without a fight. But damn it, I was too late. By now they've probably have him locked up in Bogota. I guess what you were telling us Professor could happen here as well."

"There's no doubt in my mind," replied Gonzalo. "I'm just surprised the General has moved so soon."

"I don't think he had any choice," replied Hank. "After what happened when he ordered the attack on our camp, he probably felt a pre-emptive attack on Arumba and his men would cripple us. Don't think I wouldn't have approved of you hurrying to Arumba's aid. But you were putting us all at risk."

"How?... How was I putting you at risk?"

"Without the Severski, there was no way we could get out of here if those DEA thugs had decided to attack us."

"You're right Hank. When my juices get flowing, I stop thinking and just act. I'm sorry. After all, I can't forget how we could have all been killed during that attack on us, if Arumba and his men had not fought them off. What do you think we should do about Obispo?"

"Tell him Professor what you told me and Laura."

" When I return to Bogota I'm going to tell the General that I believe the mountain in the cave mural may be the legendary Sacred Mountain of Ahuntipec. Since it doesn't look as though we have much time left before Obispo will attempt to seize your project, Henry suggested you might be willing to take us in the Severski, so we could see for ourselves if there is anything which may relate to the cave message. This way we could explore the area from the safety of your plane. And having a helicopter, is the only way we could possibly investigate such a dense region. A regular plane would not be of much use except to take long range pictures. If there is something, I'm certain I could use it to convince Obispo to delay his plan to attack your camp."

"Can someone tell me why all of a sudden, you're interested in looking at what you think may be the real mountain depicted in the mural?" asked Jess.

"It's not just the mountain. Remember Peter's dying message. He was certain the mural was actually a map of this area. This could be our last chance to make some kind of connection with the real world and the cave message," said Hank. "It may be nothing, or it could give us a key to unlock the mystery of Atabapo."

"And as I've said," repeated Gonzalo, " Without a helicopter to search the area, Ahuntipec may never reveal its secret to the world."

"You're right Professor. We may never have this chance again. I'd like to see this so-called sacred mountain myself." He looked westward to the descending sun.

"Tomaso, refuel the plane. Ahuntipec is only about forty minutes from here. If we want to get there before dark, we better get going."

"Terrific Jess," said Laura. "I like a man of action."

"Don't I know it," said Jess, smiling.

"Can I come too?" asked Estrelle.

"Of course. I'm not going to leave you behind again. I was worried about all of you when I was away. This way I can keep my eyes on you."

They hurried to their tents to gather survival equipment in case they came down in the jungle. Laura and Hank took digital cameras to record their findings. Professor de Quesada was thrilled to be a part of an exciting adventure which he could only have imagined in his years of academic research.

Within the hour they were nearing the inverted cone on the distant horizon. Similar in shape to the sacred Mount Fuji in Japan, an eery glow framed Ahuntipec with a ghostly halo which faded into the dark fringes of a starless night. The whirling warm air currents cooling in the evening caused heavy turbulence, making it very difficult for Jess to control the Severski, as he attempted to descend. Flying south at about five hundred feet, he manoeuvered the craft carefully towards the light which emanated from the far side of the mountain. Suddenly they were stunned to discover, shining out of a vast opening an intensely bright glow which dazed them temporarily. The brilliant wall of light throbbed hypnotically like the vibrating canister in the mural when the ultra violet lamps activated it. A flat plateau stretched for several hundred yards in front of the sparkling cave. Working vigorously in the exposed area were numerous humanoid creatures. Startled by the sound and sight of the Severski, the creatures began hurling rocks and spears at the hovering aircraft, and bolted for the protection of the mountain.

"My God! What are they?" asked Gonzalo.

"I'm going to get closer. You and Laura try to get some pictures," said Jess.

The creatures of Ahuntipec were definitely humanoid in shape with bodies covered in tiny silvery grey, fish-like scales, which sparkled in the brilliance of the cave light. Jess was able to get close enough to observe the remarkable fact these beings appeared to be identical in size, and color. Unclothed, there was no indication of sexual differences. It was as if one of them had been made, and the rest were carbon copies.

"They're all the same," said Laura.

"How many do you think are there?" asked Estrelle.

"I estimated over a hundred when we first arrived," said Gonzalo.

"So what do we do now?" asked Hank.

"I could put the Severski down, and see if they would approach us," said Jess.

"Too risky," said Hank. "You saw how they threw rocks at us. If we were on the ground there's no telling how many would come at us. And besides, if you landed and we had engine trouble, this could be the end for all of us."

"If you want, I could hover closer to the opening so you could get more pictures." Saying this, Jess moved slowly, in an unthreatening manner into the area of the brilliant light, the loud pulsing of the helicopter engine amplified by the echoing effect of the cavernous mountain. Abruptly the sound of the engine became irregular as the energy rays from the opening drenched the Severski. Jess' first reaction was that this mysterious force coming out of the cave, may have disrupted the electronics in the aircraft ignition.

"Holy God. We've got to get to hell out of here."

Tomaso realizing the engine was starving for fuel, instinctively switched to the auxiliary tank, quickly regaining aircraft power. Below them was a winding, burning streak on the ground where the spilled fuel had been ignited by sparks from a thrown rock as it struck the hard surface.

"Nice work Tomaso. One of those goddamn spears must have punched a hole in our main tank."

"That's it Jess. Get us back to base as soon as you can."

"Okay Hank. Heading for the barn." He turned the plane northward, towards the rotating beacon they had installed for night flights. On the horizon the red and white strobe slashed across the inky sky. a welcome sight after the tremendous scene they had just witnessed. No one spoke. It was as if they had all experienced a momentary madness.

The strobe grew brighter, until it almost blinded them. Hovering over the landing pad, Jess put the craft down . Anxiously waiting in the dark for their return, were several zambos and Stuart MacGregor.

"So what did you see? Was there anything there? Come on guys, don't keep me waiting."

"We've got lots to talk about said Hank. First, I would like you to take our cameras and download the images."

Stuart ran with the cameras to the processing equipment in his communication tent and had the computers booted up and ready to capture the images for all to see before the others had entered. He could tell from Hank's excited expression something important had happened.

Gathered in front of the monitor, they saw snowy streaks of flickering lines until Stu adjusted the resolution controls. Then there it was, tall, man-like,two-legged lizards, panicking at the sound and sight of the Severski. The tremendous power of the glaring light shining out of the opening over exposed some of the images. A close up of one of the creatures amazed them with the beautiful symmetry of its face.

"It's Nefertiti," said Laura. "The high cheek bones and magnificent eyes."

"Nefertiti was a woman," said Hank. "This creature has no obvious sexual parts."

"Such an incredibly wonderful face," continued Laura. "It is so beautifully balanced, you don't even notice it is covered in those lizard-like scales."

"But no sex organs," said Stu, puzzled by the pictures they were studying. "How can that be. Not exactly the kind of creature you would want for a long time relation." His humorous observation released some of the stress they were still under after their harrowing experience.

"Leave it to Stu," said Jess. "Don't let our red headed Scot near a pile of rocks if he thinks there might be a chance of a long term relation lurking in there." They all laughed, even Stu, who wasn't quite sure what Jess meant.

"Why are they identical?" asked Gonzalo. "There's got to be some explanation."

Estrelle welcomed the chance to theorize. "Must be connected with the special energy source. Remember Professor you said there was a legend that long ago, creatures were believed to be immortal, and something happened that changed all that."

"Are you referring to the Biblical account of Creation," asked Laura?

"No Doctor Laura. This is different," insisted Estrelle. "Maybe there was a time in the beginning of our evolutionary history, when creatures were identical. There was no need to evolve because being immortal, there was nothing in their environment which would provoke change."

Hank admired Estrelle's creative ability, encouraging her to continue expanding her hypothesis. "What theory do you have about their lizard-like surface covering?"

"Evolutionists theorize that lizards were among the first creatures to come out of the oceans and develop limbs for land mobility. Such reptiles are cold blooded creatures whose bodys adjust to their environmental temperature, which makes them very successful in the survival business. These Ahuntipec creatures may have been on earth even before the receeding of the waters, and it is the lizards who may have adopted the creatures surface material to promote longevity, rather than these strange creatures modelling themselves after lizards."

"Incredible," said Jess. "Makes sense what she's saying. Not having a need to evolve, may account for the fact that they have no obvious sexual function. There's no need for unlimited procreation as we know it, because they never have to be replaced."

They continued to examine the monitor images. "See there's another one up close," said Jess. "And again, as you've said, they do look alike, and there's no evidence of sexual organs."

"But can't you see?" asked Gonzalo. "It is more than the mere appearance of looking alike. They are identical. Can you display two images side by side Stuart so that we can enlarge the facial details and see if there is a difference?"

An electronic genius, Stuart soon displayed before them the faces of two of the lizard creatures, splitting the monitor image in half, ready for analysis. He zoomed in on the detail of their eyes, and all drew closer to see for themselves if there was any apparent difference. The only obvious difference was the reflected image of the Severski in the penetrating dark green eyes of each of them, caused by the difference in relative position of the humanoids and the helicopter. Other than that, for all intents and purposes, the creatures were identical.

"Fantastic. Absolutely unbelievable," said Hank. "Do you realize this is what Ama was telling us about Eric and Peter."

"You've lost me Hank," said Jess. "What is the connection?"

"Our fellows were checked in detail during those two special autopsies, and Ama discovered their DNA analysis showed both men had identical chromosome distribution. And what was even more interesting, there was no error in arriving at this finding, because their files showed their new DNA was different than their original records."

"And he felt that this anomaly was probably caused by the exposure to the special radiation present in the cave," said Laura.

"And what we have here is the proof to validate Ama's theory." Hank continued.

"These must be survivors of the great explosion depicted in the mural. You were right Gonzalo, our brief trip to your sacred mountain has given us a connection between the past and the present."

"Hey guys," asked Stu, "These things don't have working mouths. See here. That's not a mouth. It's a ridge in the face caused by the shape of the skull underneath. No mouth, no sex organs. Probably no speech."

"They must communicate telepathically," suggested Laura.

"And without a mouth, they don't eat. Is that what you're saying?" asked Hank.

"Looks like we're back to that capsule again," said Jess. "The radiation from it must be their life force. I'm almost afraid to admit it, but I think we may have discovered an alien race."

"An alien something, that's for sure. But are they from another planet, or are they the result of arrested evolution millions of years ago?" asked Hank.

"Who is to say that life on our planet did not begin somewhere out there in the unlimited universe?" asked Gonzalo. "As far as we know, our cave message is man's oldest communication ever discovered on earth between an ancient civilization and our own era.. This may be just the beginning of understanding our origins. Could it be that immortal man did something to himself or his environment which resulted in his present mortal condition. And is religion the repository of man's unresolved dealings with existence. He may have felt the need to create a Creator, because he needed someone to blame for his new mortality. Our greatest mystery on earth is still, what comes after it is all over. Ahuntipec may be a piece of Paradise. What we must decide is whether the world is ready to share in our discovery."

"You folks must be getting tired of me repeating it, but I must caution you again, not to latch on to speculative theories without verifiable evidence," urged Hank.

"I've never experienced such a discovery in all the years I've been involved in studying the codes and artifacts of the past. It's going to take a lot of imagination to derive scientific truth out of this project. Maybe what we need is more creative input when it comes to reaching an understanding of our work," said Jess.

"You've already got her on the team," said Stu.

"We have?" asked Hank, unsure of Stu's meaning.

"Yes. I'm talking about Estrelle." To demonstrate what he meant he asked her another question.

"Besides appearing to be like lizards, do you have any other explanation for the body covering?"

Estrelle was enjoying the willingness to listen to her speculations by these world renowned scientists. "It may be integral to their immortality. Instead of comparing this structure with fish scales, why not see this outer covering as a protective surface like the chain mail armor worn by knights to protect themselves from external injury. It is flexible, permitting ease of movement. It may also be impenetrable, thus providing unlimited protection."

"With all these securities built in, why would these creatures attack us with primitive spears and rocks?" asked Hank, still reluctant to let them speculate freely.

"It's possibility thinking Hank," suggested Jess. "Stu is right. Estrelle has the creative instincts of an artist. It would sure be great if she could come back to Washington with us and be a full member of our decoding team."

Laura noticed the excitement building in the young mestizo beauty at Jess' suggestion.

"Oh Hank, that would be wonderful. Now that I know my father is dead, I'm free to go wherever you need me. Please Dr. Newton. Please let me come back with you."

"I must agree with Stu and Jess. You've been a valuable member of our project. Now I would think we should hear what the Professor has to say."

"Miss Garvas is the most outstanding pupil I have ever encountered," said Gonzalo.
"She was under a tremendous strain trying to serve two masters, in an effort to save her father. I endorse your suggestion that she be taken back to the U.S. to continue her work in the decoding, and I believe it is absolutely necessary for her protection. General Obispo is not to be trusted. We saw today how quickly he ordered the attack on Arumba, and I fear he will soon do the same to you."

Estrelle grabbed Gonzalo and kissed him on both cheeks. Then in turn embraced the other team members, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Thank you. Thank you all for this wonderful chance to continue working with you."

"Tomorrow I'll get a message off to Joe and tell him about the changes in our plans, and I'll tell him we need Estrelle's continued help. I know he'll agree. But as for now, we've all had a full day. We could use a good night's sleep."

See the original art of William James Johnson at www.noozoon.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 26 William James Johnson

2005-04-10T08:58:00.000-04:00

Wearing a protective suit, Gonzalo stood between Hank and Laura, enthralled by the scope of the cave paintings. The beauty and enormity of the endeavour was breath taking. He was stunned by the grotesque devastation he saw in the cruel depiction of mass annihilation from an enormous explosion.

"What is the meaning of it all? We must find the reason. Whoever did this exquisite mural is trying to tell us something...but what is it?"

"That vibrating capsule may be the key," said Laura.

"Have you considered that the source of the energy coming off the wall when you illuminate it with ultra violet rays, may be extra-terrestrial?" asked Gonzalo.

"Jess suggested that, but we haven't seriously considered it," said Hank.

"I sent you some of my research data on the local myths. This area is believed by the natives to be the source of miracle cures. In fact the Atabapo Cave is considered an ancient sacred shrine. I'm not saying this to prejudice your interpretations. I've found in my field work, there was usually a modicum of truth in the myths I studied. Things which have unexplainable occurrences are accepted by my countrymen as sacred."

"Have you received Dr. Khan's report on Eric and Peter's autopsy findings?" asked Hank.

"No I haven't. Your reports said they died of radiation exposure," replied Gonzalo.

"It was more than that. The reason he and Dr. Lamb came here, was to examine the source of the radiation."

"Radiation is radiation as I understand it," said the professor.

"This was different. Somehow this radiation caused a DNA shift in the bodies of these two men. Dr. Khan said he was convinced that this cloning result was capable of changing their cellular structure into a highly evolved species which for all intents and purposes would be immortal."

Gonzalo was speechless. He was certain if he told Obispo about the discovery of this mysterious energy source, he would seize the scientific site immediately, and announce to the world the fantastic results of his government's work. This would put the lives of the Americans in serious jeopardy.

"This is unbelievable. I discussed this very thing with the General several days ago, and he asked me if I thought the immortality myth had any basis in fact, and now you tell me your Washington visitors have found evidence there may be a mysterious power present in this sacred place."

"No one has said anything about this being a miraculous location," stressed Hank, who was always reticent about attributing special powers in his scientific pursuits. "I think it is premature to be making unsubstantiated judgments about our findings."

"But as a scientist, what do you think caused the DNA shift in the bodies of your deceased men?" asked Gonzalo.

"Maybe the deterioration of their bodies as a consequence of their death," suggested Laura.

"Or something in this jungle environment which is alien to our way of life," added Hank.

"Alien! You did say alien?" said the professor.

"Yes I did, but I'm not referring in any way to creatures from outer space, if that's what you are implying."

"But why not? Is it so impossible to accept that creatures from another galaxy may have arrived on planet earth, and brought us this special power which appears to reside in the cave?"

"Speculation dear Professor. We mustn't waste our time in fantasizing about alien visitors if we must speed up our work and return home before there is a surprise attack on us," said Hank.

"I think we should consider all possibilities when it comes to decoding the cave message," said Laura. "We all seem to attest to the fact that the energy present in the cavern is capable of destroying life as well as modify it. This is obvious or we would not all be wearing these protective suits. What I would like to know Professor is what you think about the image of the Ahuntipec mountain which is in the mural?"

"The legend is that there is such a geographic structure which has sacred properties."

"There you go again. Is every unknown phenomena which occurs in this part of the world sacred?" asked Hank sarcastically.

"I don't wish to annoy you Dr. Newton by using that expression. Sacred is a word our people use to describe what cannot be explained. In many ways it is like the Christian way of referring to the understanding of the nature of the Divine, as a Mystery. For example the Mystery of the Trinity, which we Catholics accept by faith, but are unable to explain intellectually."

"But what should we do about Ahuntipec, if that really is what is depicted in the mural?" asked Laura, trying to keep them on the subject.

"We've got the Severski. It could certainly carry all of us. Why don't we get Jess and Tomaso to fly us to your sacred mountain and see for ourselves," suggested Hank.

"That's a wonderful idea Henry," said Gonzalo, genuinely anxious to see for himself what few on earth had ever witnessed. The dense jungle made an approach by land totally impossible.

"I've seen enough of this magnificent mural. I can hardly wait until you decipher the message contained in it."

"If we can discover its meaning," said Laura. "It's so complex, I don't think we're going to be able to do it using our old methods."

"No one expects it to be done overnight," said Hank. "After all, it's been waiting for over half a million years for us to come along."

"It's obvious, the creatures who did this wondrous thing must have been far more evolved than we are," added Gonzalo.

"Why do you say that Professor?" asked Hank.

"I'm presuming they may have come from another planet."

"You surprise me Professor, a man of your eminence in the world of anthropology. Why in the world would you even suggest such a ridiculous idea?"

"Take it easy Henry," said Laura. "There are attributes which make Gonzalo's hypothesis at least worth considering."

"Not you too."

"The energy in the cave is unknown to us. You heard Ama say he is puzzled about what it is, or where it might have originated."

"Well if you must persist, I might as well try one of my off the wall theories," said Hank. "Maybe the radiation is coming from a radioactive mineral source, that was present in this jungle geography before the receding of the waters which in ancient times covered the earth. I can live with that more than some green skin aliens visiting from another galaxy."

"But your theory doesn't take into consideration that your own Corp of Engineers did extensive studies of the minerals, and land forms in this part of Colombia when they were exploring the mighty Orinoco," said Gonzalo. "I studied their lengthy report, and nowhere did they mention anything about discovering a new radioactive material. Whoever did this amazing mural had to be more advanced than us. Only a higher form of intelligence would have endured the tremendous difficulty of creating such a work. They must have been intensely motivated to communicate what I assume has to be a vital message, for future creatures."

"There you go again," said Hank, "attributing motivation without giving any evidence."

"The mural is here, and its complexity is evidence enough that there was serious intent on the part of its creators to send a message into the future," said Gonzalo.

"And they had the good sense to use this interior cave wall, with the hope their message would survive the ravages of time," said Laura. "And furthermore, any creatures who could travel through space to reach earth would have to be, as you say Professor, more intelligent than man, because they would have had to master the problem of time travel."

"I don't know about you two, but I've had just about enough of fantasy speculation. Let's see what Jess has to say about flying us to Ahuntipec," said Hank.

The intense sun blinded them momentarily as they came out of the cave. Hank was the first to notice that the Severski was missing. Leaving his protective suit in the grass in front of the opening, he jogged down to the communications tent.

"Where's our plane Stu?"

"Jess got a panic call from Arumba. The DEA choppers raided his camp and wiped out a lot of his men. Jess loaded up our zambos, and went to join in the fight."

"Can you contact Jess?"

"His signal is fading in an out. He must be on the ground at Arumba's camp."

"Get him on the blower for me."

"Jess this is Atabapo, do you read me over?"

"In and out Stu. I'll get airborne. That should improve my reception. Try me again in about five. Over, and out." The few minutes it took for Jess to get back on the radio seemed endless. Hank paced nervously behind Stu, wondering if his friend would be safe.

"Atabapo, this is Severski. How do you read? Over."

"Jess it's Hank. Reading you five square. What's happened?"

"Obispo's men wrecked Arumba's camp, killing most of his zambos."

"And Arumba?

"Apparently he was captured before I got here. They've taken him to Bogota."

"What about you?"

"I'll be heading back. The men I brought, want to stay behind in case there's another attack. Give us about an hour and a half. Tell the others not to worry. And tell Estrelle I miss her, and I'm glad I decided to leave her at the site. She'll know what I mean."

Estrelle stood by, listening to Jess on the speaker. When he mentioned her name, she turned away, her shoulders began shaking with emotion, as she quietly cried. Laura put her arm around the young woman and led her out of the tent.

"I feel so silly crying like a stupid little school girl. I should be glad Jess is safe. You have no idea how frightened I was when Arumba called for help. Jess practically ran to the plane, yelling orders at the zambos to grab their weapons and come with him. He's that way. I love him so much Laura. If anything happened to him, I don't know what I would do."

"Nothing is going to happen. You heard him say he would be back in about an hour."

"An hour and a half. He said an hour and a half."

"You're right. He did say an hour and a half." For the first time, Laura realized the innocence of this young woman everyone had taken for granted. She had been coerced into joining the Atabapo team to spy for the General in an attempt to save her imprisoned father. This was a lot to expect from a young person who had fallen in love with an attractive, philandering middle age scientist. It was no wonder she was so upset when he charged off to battle.

"You know yourself what a wonderful man he is."

"Yes I do. Jess is one of a kind. He was lucky you were there to help him after the attack by Barbarosa. You are a true friend Estrelle."

"Thank you Dr. Laura. I've been worried that maybe you hated me for taking Jess."

"I was upset at first. But believe me. You never took Jess. No one takes Jess. He is his own man. Not many men would risk their lives, rushing off to help his friend like that. I've never hated you darling Estrelle. As a matter of fact, I'm going to miss you when we go back to the states." Laura felt compassion for this young woman, who for a brief moment, had revealed her true vulnerability.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Do you know anything about his wife?"

"Only what he has told me."

"Do you think he loves her?"

"The way Jess puts it, he says he loves her, but he's not in love with her. Whatever that means. Why do you ask?"

"Now that my father has died, there really is no reason for me to stay in Colombia. I could go back to the states with all of you, and continue my studies there."

"What can I say. I think you and Jess need to talk about it. After all, he will be going back to his wife. That's what all the field workers do." There was a trace of cynicism in her answer.

"Thank you Dr. Laura. I'll do it. I'll have a long talk with Jess. He'll know what we should do."

"He always does. How would you like to put on a pot of tea?"

"I'd like that." Estrelle released Laura's hand and headed for the dining tent, a brisk pace in her step. There was a renewed vigor in her movement.

Jess had been delayed returning, due to a sudden foray just prior to his departure. Sizing up the risk, he decided they should not return to Atabapo without the men who had come with them. Landing their plane, they ran out and took cover in the surrounding jungle. Together, he and Tomaso fought the attackers attempting to board the Severski, while their zambos scurried back to the aircraft.

Hank had tried several times to contact him, but was unsuccessful. "I'm worried. It's been three hours since we last heard from them."

"If those attackers come here, we wouldn't have a chance," said Gonzalo. "At least if we had your helicopter, we could get out of here."

"Jess'll make it," assured Laura. "He had some close calls when he was fighting in Viet Nam. You don't get the Congressional Medal of Honour because you ran away from a fight."

"That's your country's highest military honour," said the Professor.

"It certainly is," added Hank proudly. "Jess managed to free two downed jet pilots from a prisoner of war camp in North Viet Nam, at great risk to himself. You'll never hear him say anything about it."

"I tried to find out what happened," said Laura. "Jess said it was something that happened in another life. He says very little about the war. In fact he claims the U.S. should never have been in Viet Nam in the first place. He said it wasn't like the big war in Europe. That was an honourable war, against a genuine tyrant. Jess felt his flying in Viet Nam, was like being an ambulance driver in the Spanish civil war. The greater the stress, the calmer Jess gets. It's one of his great strengths."

"I wish we could get him on the radio. Would you please try again Stuart," asked Estrelle.

A few more anxious minutes passed until they heard his familiar voice. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I decided we shouldn't come back without our zambos. We're all okay, and should be at Atabapo in about forty-five minutes."

This time everyone cheered. No one felt embarrassed to express their great joy their friend had done it again.

"You've gotta love a guy like that," said Hank, a deep sigh of relief, as he hugged the two women who were jumping up and down like two excited school girls. "We do," they both agreed, then laughing nervously Laura added, "And we love you too Hank."

Read other novels by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 25 William James Johnson

2005-04-09T16:02:00.000-04:00

They were still debating the extraordinary meter findings long after dinner ended. Becoming bored with the subject, Laura asked Monica if she would like to join her in an evening walk. The temperature had moderated considerably when the sun went down, and there was even a slight chill in the air.

"Don't wander off," warned Hank. "And make sure you take your handgun with you Laura."

"Is he serious?" asked Monica

"I sure am," said Hank. "You never can tell if those cartel thugs might return. Even if you didn't shoot at them, a pistol shot will bring us running to help you."

"We'll be okay Hank," assured Laura. She pulled back her sweater, revealing the small weapon which had always been at her side since the Barbarosa attack.

The evening air had a delicate scent of mouldy vegetation. Monica reacted to the decaying odour . "Do you ever get used to the smell?"

"Don't even notice it anymore. Familiarity with the smells and sounds in the jungle gives me a feeling of confidence. Thanks for coming with me Monica. I wanted to get away from the others so that I could ask you what you really thought about what happened in the cave."

"I believe the suits Ama has designed will protect you from almost anything. The scientists working on viruses and recombinant DNA experiments, all use his equipment. Ama is a genius. We're lucky he came to America."

"He seems very pleasant."

"That's more of an ethnic characteristic. He bends over backward to avoid offending anyone. He has another fault which I think will do him in before old age."

"What's that?"

"He's a workaholic. He gets by on catnaps. His wife, a gorgeous model from Pakistan, moved out about a year ago after Ama had a room set aside at Bethesda where he could recharge his body without having to go home. We all saw it coming. No one wanted to talk to Ama about it. He kept his private life to himself. She had been gone three weeks before he was aware of it. I'll never understand how people can make such a commitment. I know I couldn't do it."

"In a way, your Dr. Khan sounds a bit like me."

"You are a remarkable woman Laura. Ama was telling me about some of your adventures. It was fascinating."

"It seemed so at the time. Now its beginning to feel like my life is flying past, and I haven't found that so-called meaningful relationship that would change it all."

"You've been married though, haven't you?"

"For awhile. All my travelling soon put an end to that."

"What happened? Another woman?"

"I wish. No. It happened while I was away. He said he couldn't stand the loneliness, and began seeing some of his buddies at the faculty club. That's when he discovered he liked men more than me. It was game over. I think I could have handled it better if it had been a woman. Losing your man to another man is not the greatest thing in my book." She suddenly realized she was telling her more than she wanted. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. A perfect stranger. I've never spoken this way to Estrelle."

"Estrelle is still practically a child," said Monica. "You needed someone like me who has been around the track. I get the feeling you've been wanting to do this for some time. You probably would find it difficult to speak like this to your friends. I'll be here for just a few days, and then I'm gone. We may never see each other again."

"You may be right. Jess was saying the same thing when we were flying here. He said people have intimate conversations on planes because they don't think the stranger who is listening to their story will ever see them again. So tell me about yourself Monica. Are you married? Do you fool around like Jess says."

"That's the second time you've referred to Jess. He's a very attractive man, and he knows it," said Monica.

"I love Jess. And Hank. They're quite different."

"Love? As in now and forever?"

"No. I'm not that stupid. They both have wives waiting back home. But that doesn't stop them from wanting to get it on once in awhile."

"Leave it to the men. The world rotates around that little chunk of gristle they share with us from time to time."

Laura roared with great laughter, as if someone had finally given her permission to rid herself of the heavy burden of the rape, and the loss of Arturo. "What a wonderful expression, a chunk of gristle. Believe me, those two guys know how to use their guided muscles to devastate the silken targets which come their way."

It was Monica's turn to laugh at the Victorian euphemism her new friend had just invented. "I think it's about time you all got out of this sexual jungle and came back to the dull routine of academia. I'm jealous of how you seem to be able to adjust to whatever opportunity is out there."

"You still haven't told me about yourself," remarked Laura.

"I don't know if I should. You'll probably think I'm just making it up, because of what you've told me."

"Fair is fair. Don't leave anything out."

Monica touched her gently on the shoulder, and her beautiful green eyes moistened as she spoke. "I haven't had the good luck with men that you've had. It began when I was only eight years old, and a teenage babysitter showed me his thing and asked me to pump it up and down. He rubbed me while I helped him get off, and it was really exciting. So much so, I told my parents all about it, and my father, who was one of those genuine bible thumping preachers, threatened me with a one way ticket to hell. And believe me, the way he described it, you would think he was born and raised there."

" I don't see why you said I would think you were just making it up. There are many kids, whose first sexual experience was at the hands of someone they trusted."

"True. But in my case, my holier than thou father and that thing that passed as my mother, put a permanent crimp in my sexual development. I had very little experience with boys and men after that."

"What a damn shame. You are a stunning looking woman Monica. I'm surprised Jess hasn't put a hit on you yet."

Monica laughed at this. "He did indirectly. But I can assure you he would have been disappointed."

"You don't know Jess."

"No. But I do know me. What I've been trying to say, and haven't been doing very well, is that I prefer relationships with women who are out there doing their own thing, who are not afraid to let another woman into their life."

"Are you saying you're a lesbian?"

"I think that term limits me too much. Sex is such a small part of this. I prefer being close to a female partner who knows first hand what problems I might be experiencing as a woman. Men tend to be too selfish when it comes to making a woman feel fulfilled."

"Now I am surprised. I told you about my husband leaving me for a man, and now you tell me that you prefer women. All I can say Monica, is there must be some guy out there who would give his left nut to jump on your bones."

"My gawd woman! Where did you get such a dirty mouth?"

They both burst into laughter as they approached their tent. Jess was having a beer with Hank. "Sounds like you two have gotten into the hard stuff. Why don't you let us in on the joke?"

Monica accepted the challenge. "Just girl talk. Biological clocks and things like that."

"Girls have always interested me," replied Jess, his unsubtle way of trying to involve them in his favorite subject.

"We should all get a good night's sleep," interrupted Hank. "Ama wants to take the blood tests in the morning, and return to Washington tomorrow night."

"What's his hurry?" asked Laura, disappointed she would have so little time to spend with her new friend.

"It's like I told you", said Monica. "What most would take a week to do, our Dr. Khan completes in a few hours. If he has decided we are going to be back home by tomorrow, we'll be back tomorrow."

By noon the next day Ama and Monica had collected their specimens and repacked their gear for their return trip. As they flew north to the San Fernando airport, a sleek executive helicopter piloted by Captain Pedro Cervantes, with Professor Gonzalo de Quesada left Bogota.

"We couldn't ask for a nicer day to fly across Colombia," said Pedro.

" The beautiful green carpet of trees is a magnificent sight," said the Professor. "I've never been to this cave before, although I've heard a lot about it. Have you advised the Americans we are coming?"

"The General told me not to file a flight plan. He is going to be monitoring our route with DEA radar."

"I don't understand. Why would he do that?"

"The element of surprise. He wants you to see for yourself the day to day operations of the Americans at San Fernando de Atabapo without giving them a chance to prepare for your visit. I get the feeling Obispo doesn't really trust the Americans. I think he has something else in mind."

"He hasn't told me about anything else. I'm suppose to inspect and advise the General on whether or not the cave explorations should continue," said Gonzalo.

"I'm sure the General can rely on you Professor. But since we are going to have a few hours together, I was wondering sir, if it's not too much trouble, would you mind telling me about ancient Colombia? I got most of my education in the U.S. I know something about our country's current history, but I'm ignorant when it comes to our past."

"I would be delighted. You may not know it Pedro, but my ancestors were here at the start of the Spanish conquest."

"Amazing."

"My historic grandfather, Gonzalo de Quesada, a lawyer and writer, was appointed the leader of a band of 900 Spanish soldiers who left the coastal land of the Gulf of Mexico in 1536 to explore the source of the Rio Magdalena."

"Then I guess we could say your trip today, is history repeating itself," remarked Pedro. "Another de Quesada on a journey of exploration, almost five hundred years later. What is eery about all this, is that you have the same name as the first Spanish explorer."

"Well after all, we are relatives," smiled Gonzalo.

"And so you are. Please continue Professor."

"After travelling for two years in the jungle, he lost several of his men before reaching the Chibcha natives in their capital called Bacata. You know it today as Bogota, the original capital of all that area which now is divided into Venezuela, Ecuador, Panama, and Colombia."

"All claimed for their Spanish rulers."

"That's how it was done. Although his group was small in number, the natives were no match for the well trained band of soldiers. They captured the Chibchas, and enslaved them. They stole their gold, and helped to crush one of the most advanced ancient civilizations in this hemisphere."

"All in the name of Christianity."

"It would seem so," said Gonzalo, a hint of sadness in his reply.

"You're a true patriot Professor," said Pedro.

"I like to think I am, whatever that means."

"Could I ask your opinion? What do you think of Colombia's drug problem?"

"As much as I hate it, I have to admit it has given many of our poorest people a chance to break the cycle of poverty, even at the risk of being hurt by the anti-drug faction."

"Realizing this trade provides benefits for thousands of Colombians, why do you say you hate it?"

"There is so much corruption in this dirty business. Trafficking in drugs is better than gold these days. Fortunes are made overnight," said Gonzalo.

Pedro smiled at the accuracy of his remark, wondering if Gonzalo had ever seen the cache of wealth Obispo had hoarded since he began exploiting the cocaine trade. "So it's not necessarily the drug deals that disturbs you, as much as it is the men who wield the power at the top."

"Any legitimate government which is unable to crush the nefarious actions of criminals who slaughter in cold blood their supreme court judges, and burn down the halls of Justice, might as well step aside and let someone with strength of character and morality bring order back to our country."

"Like a strong man? Like Castro, or Juan Peron? Or maybe General Fernandez Obispo? Like you say, someone who can bring order back to our country," said Pedro. He waited expectantly for Gonzalo's reply. "Like our Secretary of the Interior?" asked Pedro again.

"I'm not sure about the General." replied the Professor, choosing his language carefully.

"Why not sure? If you know something about Obispo, you've got tell me Gonzalo."

"The man scares me...there I've said it," replied Gonzalo reluctantly.

"I don't know what it is you are trying to say. He scares you? Has he said something or done something which makes you say this?"

"Yes he has. You probably know more about it than I do."

"My gawd Professor, spit it out. What the hell are you talking about?"

"That horrible murder of Enrico Garvas."

"Murder. The man was an old man who would have died anyway. The guards who were trying to get him to confess about his involvement in that drug deal were too zealous. I asked Obispo about it when I heard what had happened, and he was as distraught as you. He annotated the personal records of those guards, and you can be assured they will feel the wrath of the General if they ever slip up again."

"Listen to yourself Pedro. Annotated records. Slip up. This was a cruel murder of a loyal patriot to keep him from telling the truth. They drowned the wretched soul in a tub of excrement. I don't understand why you can't see this."

"Then tell me Professor, what do you think is the truth Enrico wanted to tell us?"

"That someone, I don't know who, is at the top, making all the decisions. Whoever it is, I think that person is the most corrupt excuse for a leader our country has ever produced."

"And you think that person is General Fernandez Obispo, our Secretary of the Interior?"

"I didn't say that."
"But you suspect he might be?"

"He has opportunity, motive, and close allies who carry out his commands. Obispo is most likely the man who is behind all the corruption. I pity the person who expects General Obispo to be the savior of our beloved Colombia."

"I think you are making a mistake Professor. We need the General, and he has told me many times, he wishes you would be there, as a member of our team."

"Our team. It would seem Pedro, you've already made up your mind on which side you wish to play. I personally feel that I am a scientist, an anthropologist. I am not interested in political intrigue. But I am really afraid General Obispo will not let me make that choice. This is a treacherous man. I only hope I have the will to survive his treachery."

"I'm sorry you feel this way. Fernandez Obispo is the future of Colombia, and like your ancient relative who captured this land for Spain, I want to help him to overthrow the drug lords and give our country back to the people."

"If you truly believe this, I wish you the blessings of God. But beware Pedro. Material things often get in the way of our higher pursuits. You are still a young man. This is the time to establish your future, and the future of our beautiful country. Don't let the promises of Obispo lead you astray."

"I have great confidence in my General. It is because of him that your American friends are here, exploiting our ancient resources. It could end in the blink of an eye if the General decided to do it. He has lost interest in what is happening there. Now it depends on what you tell him. I don't think he trusts the gringos."

"You've said that before."

"And I still believe it."

Below them was the sparse airstrip outside of San Fernando de Atabapo. Pedro flew over the landing area and reduced the power. Dropping quickly below the tree line, the helicopter caressed the ground, as he brought the craft to a smooth stop in the heavy dust which whirled around them from the gravel surface. He shook hands with the Professor and wished him luck. Gonzalo was surprised he was not staying with him as Obispo had said he would, particularly if he was supposed to replace the deceased Arturo Verez. Pedro was eager to return to his boss with his decision that the Professor would not be suitable as a team member in the coup d'etat.

Grabbing a small overnight case Gonzalo hurried away from the aircraft and waved farewell as the plane turned around and headed west, back to Bogota. A lone soldier who operated the radio in the small shack adjacent to the airstrip, came out to meet him.

"Good afternoon. I am Professor Gonzalo de Quesada. Would you please contact the Atabapo site, and ask them to send someone for me."

"Of course Professor. This has been a busy place today."

"How is that?"

"The Americans left about an hour ago."

"They what?"

"One of those big U.S. helicopters took two passengers, a man and a woman."

"Have you a flight plan?"

"Si. They were Dr. Ama Khan, and Dr. Monica Lamb."

"Ask Atabapo to come and get me. And hurry. It is very important."

By the time Jess had refueled the Severski and returned to San Fernando, two hours had passed. Gonzalo couldn't stop thinking that Pedro was trying to warn him about a real danger facing the scientists at the cave.

"Estrelle is going to be very happy to see you Professor," said Jess, as they flew back to the cave.

"The poor woman must be devastated by the news about her father."

"She was at first. I think now she is relieved that his suffering is over."

"I must tell you Doctor Martin, I feel you are all in great danger on this project."

"Don't worry Professor. We are almost finished here. The last bit of recording is being done now by Hank and Laura. Dr.Ama Khan and Dr. Lamb have just returned to Washington with our blood samples. They both were convinced our protective suits have done their job. We don't have to worry anymore about the radiation danger."

"That's not the danger I am speaking about. I think General Obispo is preparing to make an attack on your site and seize all of your findings. This is a villainous man."

Jess was startled by Gonzalo's remarks. "What makes you think that? I thought you and the General were very close friends."

"Recently he has mentioned that the time is fast approaching when he will make a move to take over control of the government. He has even asked me to be a part of his coup."

"Do you believe he's serious?"

"I wouldn't be telling you if I didn't. The man has changed since he caused the death of Enrico Garvas. My spys tell me that he destroys everyone who stands in his way. He wants the public to think he is being iron fisted to crush the drug cartel. But those who really know him, claim he has been receiving huge sums of money from the illegal trafficking to buy arms for his revolution."

Hank and Laura were coming down the hill when the Severski landed. They had no idea Jess had to return to San Fernando to pick up Gonzalo. Estrelle Garvas ran towards the Professor when she spotted him following Jess out of the side hatch.

"Gonzalo! What a pleasant surprise," said Hank. "Seems the Atabapo Project is becoming a genuine tourist attraction."

Estrelle hugged Gonzalo with great feeling, sobbing quietly as he held her. Knowing the terrible ending of his friend Enrico, he embraced the young woman with the affection one shows when a loved one has died.

"Oh Professor. I've been wanting to speak to you," said Estrelle, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Of course Miss Garvas. Please accept my condolences for the passing of your father."

"So I suppose this is not just a social visit?" asked Hank.

"The General wants me to see first hand what you have discovered here."

"We've been sending you detailed reports of each days work. On occasion, Estrelle has even included confidential information."

"Like her report about Arumba and the attack he and his men thwarted. The General was really upset. By the way where is the zambo leader?" asked Gonzalo.
Jess interrupted, "He's not here now."

"That's right," said Hank. "He's recruiting and training his zambos for the revolution he thinks is going to happen in Colombia."

"That's most interesting. That was the danger I was talking about Jess," said Gonzalo. "There's no doubt in my mind that when the time is right, General Obispo and his forces will seize control of the government. Your friend Arumba's life is at great risk. Obispo's first move will probably be a pre-emptive attack on Arumba and his men."

Jess was reluctant to reveal anymore about the zambos. "How do you know this?"

"Obispo has been planning this government take over ever since he started accumulating arms and money. This was long before the Atabapo Project."

"Let's continue this conversation in our dining tent where we can have some refreshments and relax," said Hank.

As they walked from the landing pad to the tent area, Gonzalo put his arm on Estrelle's shoulder, reassuring her she could count on him in the event Obispo went ahead with his plans.

Hank passed around drinks, and all waited patiently for Gonzalo to begin.

"The General wanted me to see for myself the value in continuing with your project. The way he put it was, he didn't want to make his coup attempt if there was a risk that all of you might return home without completing your work on the cave. I'm afraid if I return and say that your discovery is of global importance, our Secretary will seize all the glory and use his attack as a way of gaining the support of the mass of Colombians in his revolution. You asked how I know about this. It happened when I learned about the cruel execution of Enrico. Apparently Obispo did not approve of me being sympathetic towards my old friend. He began to slander him, accusing him of trying to blackmail him for being involved in cartel operations. It was then that he asked me to be a member of his planning team to assist in the coup. I had to make him think that I would be interested. It was on the flight here that Pedro, his ambitious confidant and personal pilot, confirmed my suspicions that Obispo will do whatever it takes to seize power and be the ultimate ruler of Columbia. Pedro actually came right out and said the General would like to have me on his team when he makes his move."

"You are endangering yourself by these revelations," said Hank.

"It is you and your associates I'm concerned about," said Gonzalo. "Dr. Martin was saying you have almost completed the recordings of the cave symbols."

"True. A few more days will do it."

"Then I would suggest you plan to return as soon as possible to the U.S. Please do not delay more than a week. Continue sending your daily messages to buy yourself time. Include the fact that you are expecting an extension to study the sacred mountain of Ahuntipec."

"But what about you Professor?" asked Estrelle.

"I've got to return to Bogota and stall Obispo's plans until you have returned safely to your country."

"He'll kill you Gonzalo," said Hank. You can come back with us as a diplomatic refugee."

"Thank you Henry. That is most kind. But you must remember, Theresita my wife and our children. I have to stay. I am relying my position in Bogota will protect me."

"How can you say that after what happened to your judges?" asked Laura.

"I didn't say there would be no risk. My ancestors established this country. I cannot leave it in the hands of a madman. I will find a way."

Trees Hold Up the Sky 24 William James Johnson

2005-04-09T08:46:00.000-04:00

Jess Martin and his co-pilot Lt.Tomaso Gonzalvos paced anxiously outside the ramshackled hangar at the San Fernando de Atabapo airport. On the distant horizon they could see the dark speck of an executive helicopter, and feel the pulsing vibrations as it drew closer. As it descended near their Severski 210, the logo of the U.S. Air Force identified the craft as the vehicle which was carrying Dr. Ama Kahn from Washington.

A tall zambo approached Kahn's aircraft and was handed the scientist's luggage and made a few more trips to carry his special equipment to the cargo hatch of the Severski.

"Jess Martin, Doctor Kahn, and my co-pilot Lt. Gonzalvos."

"I'm pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot about you Jess," said Kahn. "If you don't mind just call me Ama.

"No problem. Ama it is. I must say though, your visit comes as a surprise to all of us."

As they spoke, a delicious brunette in her early thirties presented a sight to behold, as she backed down the ladder, and came towards them.

"This is my assistant Dr. Monica Lamb," said Kahn, aware of the impact she was having on their new friend.

"My pleasure Dr. Martin," she said extending her hand. Jess was impressed by the firmness of her grip.

Looking at the special crates of equipment which had been loaded on the Severski, he could not control his curiosity any longer. "What's going on? Are you here to replace us on the project?"

"Not a chance Jess. Its something completely different, although related to the cave indirectly. I would rather hold off any explanation until Monica and I have had a chance to conduct some tests. It's not something which could be explained by fax, so I convinced the bureaucrats we needed to see for ourselves what you are doing."

The low level flight to the project overwhelmed the Washington visitors. A massive, unending sea of green vegetation, undulating in the wind, with infrequent openings for small villages amazed Dr. Kahn.

"With all the protests we have back home about the destruction of the rain forest, it would appear not much is happening here to despoil the wonders of nature."

"It is happening though," said Jess. "We've been told about 30,000 acres of trees are being bulldozed everyday, somewhere in the rain forest."

"I would doubt that estimate," said Kahn. "There certainly doesn't appear to be that kind of devastation going on here."

"You've got to realize," said Jess, "the so-called rain forest is larger than the entire land area of the U.S. Even at the numbers of trees being destroyed daily, this enormous resource will take years to disappear."

"But that is what is sad about all of this," said Monica. "The rain forest is the world's most important purifier of the toxic garbage man's industrial progress has spewed into the atmosphere. Despite its enormity, it is still finite. Seeing this wonderful abundance of greenery first hand makes it almost impossible to think that in time, this all could be a barren, unproductive, desert."

"Wow! What do we have here? A genuine American tree hugger."

"Dr. Lamb is one of our most talented researchers on the destruction of our environment and its eventual devastation of civilization. To call her a tree hugger is far too limited. Monica is a generalist who sees the connection of the various human activities which in the long run may have a terminal result on our existence. She links the external forces, with internal changes at the biological level."

"Well thank you Dr. Kahn," said Monica smiling. "That should be sufficient to deter the famous Dr. Jess Martin from pursuing any further interest in getting to know your assistant."

"No way sweet lady. I've never let a woman's brains get in the way of my wanting to know her better. We have a great team working on the cave, and the fact that two of them are great looking gals has not diminished our efforts."

"Did you hear that Ama? Great looking gals. You're Dr. Martin is a sexist as well."

"Don't get me started," said Jess, smiling. His co-pilot Tomaso broke into a grin when he saw where the conversation was leading. There had never been any doubt that the rugged individualism of Jess Martin and his earthy approach to life had always attracted bright, beautiful ladies.

By the time Jess touched down on the landing pad at the cave site, the noise of the arriving giant chopper had alerted everyone. Hank removed his hat and wiped off the bits of vegetation which the rotating blades had whipped into the air. When the engine stopped, Dr. Kahn carefully followed the zambo down the exit ladder, with Dr. Lamb close behind. Jess and Tomaso exited from the front of the helicopter, and joined the greeting party.

"Welcome to Atabapo my friends," said Hank. "We received word you were coming just a couple of days ago. I hope you are bringing us good news."

"Give me just a few moments to put our equipment out of the weather, and then we'll talk," said Ama. When the cargo was stowed, Hank took his guests and his team to the dining tent, and after offering drinks, looked inquiringly at Dr. Kahn.

"We're here because of an anomaly discovered during the detailed autopsy on your two men, Peter and Eric."

"They died of cave radiation right?" asked Jess.

Dr.Lamb responded. "That's what we thought at first. But there is no radioactive material we know which could cause a DNA shift. We think there is an unknown radiation source in the cave which altered the normal DNA of your two associates. Since we were unable to identify the source, we decided to use the electron microscope to examine more closely the result of the exposure."

"And that's when you discovered the anomaly. Couldn't it just be a freak of nature?" asked Laura.

"We considered that possibility at first. No scientist worth his salt wants to discover unreproducible findings. We pulled their records and both men had normal chromosome distribution. After the electron scanning, we discovered both subjects now had identical distribution factors, which differed massively from their original results listed on file."

"Are you talking about a form of cloning?" asked Estrelle.

"That seems to be the only explanation which appears to fit at this time," said Dr. Kahn. "We've come here to use our latest radiation test equipment to measure the level in your cave and determine if we can, where this radiation resides in the energy spectrum."

"We are also going to take specimens from each of you back with us for further study in Washington," said Monica. She continued with her explanation. "At Washington Medical Centre in 1982, in the search for a method of synthesizing interferon, scientists used gene engineering to produce this cellular protein in bacteria. The experiment was so successful, that the world now has an abundant supply of this natural virus-fighting substance. This has led to the production of other genetically designed tools called monoclonal antibodies. Using these new antibodies, hybrids are being produced which could end disease in the world. If the antibodies have an unending supply of cells, as in the case of metastasizing cancer, the resulting hybrids are virtually immortal."

"Then why did Peter and Eric die?" asked Hank.

"The radiation source was too powerful for their bodies to supply the antibody with a source of cell cultures to maintain its existence. We call these cellular antibody factories hybridomas. Your friends ran out of material for the hybridoma factory."

Laura had been silent during the discussion, reflecting on Arturo's death, remembering how despondent she had become when she thought she too might have AIDS. Then there was that elation when Dr. Oberon told her the test results for HIV were negative. Now she had to face again the possibility she had been damaged by an unknown source of radiation in the cave.

"What about us? We've been going in the cave on a daily basis. Are you telling us we are in the same danger as Eric and Peter?" asked Laura.

"That is why we had to come and see for ourselves," said Kahn.

"You have been wearing the protective suits Ama gave you?" asked Monica.

"Of course," assured Hank.

"The risk of radiation exposure is determined by time and strength. Your men were exposed for hours at a time to a source which probably like most radiation is cumulative in the body. But then of course our calculations are based on known forms of radiation. We haven't been able to identify this source, nor do we know its strength."

"So what do you think? Are we going to make it back to the good old U.S. of A. in one piece?" asked Jess.

"You all look fine to me," said Ama. "We'll know better after we finish our analysis."

After breakfast, accompanying Laura and Hank, Ama and Monica donned the protective suits they had brought with them and trudged up the grassy knoll which led to the cave opening. They were relieved to feel the cool cave air as they entered the blackness of the enormous cavern. Hank turned on the power, illuminating the mysterious limestone tunnels which lay ahead, revealing the spectacular cave paintings which went endlessly beyond the reach of their lights.

The visiting scientists were stunned by the enormity of the cave art and its exquisite beauty. Unable to speak, Monica hurried ahead, trying to absorb as much as she could. Then rushing back to the others she expressed with great feeling what was happening to her.

"This is not of this world. It is beyond religion. Henry nothing like this has ever been discovered before. These symbols are as important as a voyage in a time machine."

Dr. Kahn was as speechless as his associate. Slightly embarrassed by her hyperbole, he reluctantly agreed with what she had said. "A time machine...maybe. If and when your team decodes the message, it will be as valuable as a trip into the past. You've already established the pigment used to create the cave inscriptions is dated 500,000 years ago. Why would a race of creatures in the past go to all this trouble?"

Laura was delighted to see that these outsiders confirmed her evaluation of the significance of this scientific discovery. "Jess and I have begun working on the meaning of the cave message, and what is most important is the fact that whoever did this, intended it should be of value to some future people who would find it. To ensure this, they have included in their symbols what we believe is a pictorial glossary, somewhat like the Rosetta stone. There is no doubt the forms of people from this ancient past, are humanoid."

"What I have found to be most interesting," said Hank, "is a pictograph of several creatures bowing before a glowing canister, almost as if they are worshiping it. In fact you may find this a good place to begin your investigations."

"Why is that?" asked Ama.

"The ultraviolet lights seem to activate the special material in this portion of the mural, which causes it to release a low humming sound, and the canister form vibrates visually, almost hypnotically."

"Then let's start there. Do you agree Ama?" asked Monica.

"By all means."

"Follow me. It's about 200 metres along the cavern on the left."

Carrying their special recording equipment, they followed Hank to the symbolic canister area, pausing occasionally to look in wonder at the intricate detail of the gigantic mural. In one position they observed what appeared to be a cataclysmic event, devastating large numbers of human victims.

"This is horrendous," said Kahn, traumatized by the vision of total destruction which was depicted in fantastic detail on the cathedral size wall which expanded as they reached the canister image.

"My God! What is this place?" asked Monica. "It's like Michelangelo's Last Judgment. It's about endings."

"Exactly Monica. That's what I feel too," said Laura.

"Don't be too quick to judge," warned Hank. "I think we can get into trouble if we try to invest these symbols with meanings before we've seen the whole picture."

"I think that so-called canister looks more like a missile Hank," said Ama.

"It does at that," agreed Hank.

"Can we turn on the activating lights and see what happens," asked Monica.

"Not yet Monica. Let's measure the radiation present now, and then we will use the ultraviolet," suggested Ama.

They put down their duffle bags and removed their testing meters. Even before they aimed them at the mural, the instrument began to emit the familiar clicking sound caused by the presence of ambient radiation.

"My God! No wonder your men died of radiation poisoning. This cave atmosphere contains more radiation then you would normally find in a pile of spent nuclear rods." Their meters filled the cavern with a loud ratcheting sound when the two scientists pointed them at the mural.

"Unbelievable. Change the scale on your meter, and let's see if we can get a workable reading Monica." Both doctors had to recalibrate their equipment to read only one tenth of the radiation emanating from the mural. Even with this drastic change in sensitivity, they recorded more than half scale deflection.

"I hope you are all wearing your dosimeters. I'm anxious to confirm these outfits are protecting you from this hot zone."

"Do you want to see what happens when we illuminate the canister symbol with ultraviolet?" asked Hank.

When Hank threw the switch, a low rumbling noise began to build in the cave like the sound of an approaching distant train in a tunnel. The symbol began to vibrate as Hank had described, pinning the four scientists to the floor of the cave, as if they had seized a live electric cable, and could not release it. Suddenly the meters began to glow red hot, and the glass face on both instruments shattered in their hands. With concerted effort, Laura switched off the ultraviolet lamps, and everything returned to an eery silence.

"We've seen enough," said Khan. "I think we should all get out of here."

"But we still have more recording to do," said Laura.

"Please Dr. Mason. Can't we continue this conversation outside. In the fresh air."

"You're right Ama," said Hank. "I think we've had enough excitement."

Outside the cave, they felt the heaviness of the humid jungle air. The morning temperature was more than twenty-five degrees above the steady sixty seven degrees Fahrenheit inside the cavern. Removing their protective gear, they each looked at the small radiation dosimeters which were suspended by a nylon cord around their necks.

"Good," said Ama. "That's good. Our special suits are doing the trick. Let me see each of the dosimeters."

He checked each of the small recorders, confirming he was confident his suits were protecting them from the cave radiation.

"I still want to take blood samples back to Washington," said Monica. "I don't know what we are dealing with. And I'm willing to admit, we may never know."

"When the mural is decoded, there may be something in the message which will explain what it is," said Laura.

"Enough of this speculation," said Hank. "Pick up your equipment and let's go down the hill and tell the others."

Other novels by William James Johnson can be read at www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 23 William James Johnson

2005-04-08T17:52:00.000-04:00

The sleek silver and blue VIP helicopter taxied into the official parking area west of the Bogota tower. The long slender blades turned slowly, before coming to a halt across the compact fuselage. Captain Pedro Cervantes turned off the switches and folded his navigation maps and put them into his vinyl carry-on. Pulling on his tunic, he paused briefly to smoothen his hair and climbed down from the aircraft. Waiting nearby was Obispo's black Mercedes, with its darkened windows. Carrying a locked metal case in one hand and his flying gear in the other, Pedro approached the rear of the limo.

"Have a good trip?" asked Obispo.

He did not respond until the limo door was closed and he was sure the sound proof partition between them and the driver was in place.

"Problems chief. Our man in Miami is getting greedy."

This was not what Obispo wanted to hear. "Like how greedy?"

"The Cuban bastard wants ten more big ones, or he's going to split."

"Ridiculous. We just stop supplying drugs and he'll be dead in the water."

"Like Enrico Garvas," said Pedro sneering sarcastically. "Don't you mean dead in a tub of runny shit?"

"Knock it off Pedro. I'm not proud of that."

"You should be. Everyone who is anyone knows about it. You got what you wanted. They're all scared shitless of the Monster of Medellin," taunted Pedro. He had been involved in Obispo's conspiracy for years, and had made a fortune for himself many times over. He was not intimidated by the General.

Chosen because of his fluent English and aristocratic family connections, Pedro was a graduate of the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Several years of living and studying in the U.S. gave him the realization that the American way of doing business was that money was power, no matter how you got it. When he had completed his tour of duty as a helicopter flight instructor at Harmon airbase in Florida, he was placed on the General's staff as his personal pilot and confidant.

At Harmon Pedro had met Ernesto Sanchez, a fugitive Cuban who was in charge of scheduling aircraft inspections. Sanchez could see that Pedro was an ambitious Latino like himself, with an uncontrollable desire to be wealthy no matter what he had to do. When the Cuban was sure he could trust his instincts about the young officer, he pointed out the fact that anti-drug aircraft from Colombia were arriving as often as two a week. As Sanchez described it, "this many planes coming regularly from Colombia, is as good as a license to print money if the right people controlled it." Pedro saw what Sanchez wanted him to see, and soon the two acted upon the opportunities of utilizing the frequent aircraft maintenance trips to Florida, as a chance to cash in on the drug trade. It was a stroke of genius when Pedro convinced Obispo this was the way to build up arms and wealth to realize his dream of becoming the ruler of Colombia.

As the limo made its way to his office, Obispo took a small key out of his wallet and opened up the metal container. A quick estimate was all the proof he needed that their Miami connection had taken his extra share before giving Pedro the case.

" Christ. He's already taken out the extra ten grand. Did you give him the coke?"

"No. That's not the way we do it. I give him a small envelope which has a diagram that helps him locate the stuff. He removes it when he is alone, and we change the hiding place on every delivery."

"Why go to so much trouble?" asked the General. "After all, these are military aircraft. Who is going to suspect the military?"

"You forget we are arriving from Colombia. The DEA guys make random checks on all incoming aircraft, military or otherwise. We have to cover our asses."

"Back to the problem of Sanchez. What do you think we should do with our Cuban partner and his sticky fingers?"

"We have no choice. We got him over a barrel because we know about that murder in Havana before he escaped. And he's got us by the balls because he could blow the whistle on us."

"And shaft himself at the same time."

"Believe me General, Ernesto Sanchez is not long for this world. He's a greedy bastard who is going to cross the Miami mob one of these days, and that will be the last we hear of him."

"How about telling those guys we want Sanchez replaced?"

"No way chief. You think we have problems now. Those Yankee drug lords don't stand by with their fingers up their ass waiting to be diddled. They would just as soon splash your brains as listen to any excuse why you have short changed them. We've got a sweet scam going. I say let's keep it going. Besides with the weapons and millions of bucks we've been able to stash, you probably could make your power move any day now."

"Not yet Pedro. When I'm ready you'll know it. The whole world will know it."

The Mercedes stopped in front of the Secretariat. "Come on in. There's something else we need to discuss."

Rosarita smiled at the handsome pilot as he threw a kiss to her. His womanizing reputation had been well established by Obispo's female staff. Not to have been bedded down by the dashing hero in the white and gold uniform, was considered a personal slight, and Pedro wasn't one to deliberately hurt anyone's feelings.

In his office Obispo pressed a hidden button under his desk and the teak paneling behind it quietly moved to the right revealing a floor-to-ceiling metal door. Standing in front of the door, he activated a small electronic transmitter similar to a TV remote, automatically opening the heavy structure. Inside, were shelves of solid gold bars from the floor to above eye level. Further into the vault, in a rear chamber, were stacks of U.S. currency. This was the first time Pedro had ever seen the immense wealth Obispo had accumulated.

"My gawd chief ! How much is enough?"

"Pretty impressive I know. But when you start buying bootleg arms from bankrupt nations, you can go through a pile like that in pretty quick time."

After stacking the neat packages of bills he had taken from the metal case, Obispo passed it to Pedro, and secured his cache. Pressing another hidden switch on a side wall, revealed a well-stocked bar. He poured two drinks and passed one to Pedro.

"You're probably wondering why I let you see the money."

"Gotta be because you trust me. Anything else, and I would have to say you're a godamn fool."

"And we both know I'm not as you say, a godamn fool. You're right Pedro. I trust you, and believe me there aren't many people I can say that to. I trust you, and I want you to take on a very serious task."

"Of course chief."

"I'm getting closer to the day of the coup. Taking control of the government is not something I can do alone. I'm going to need a loyal team. When we have won, and have consolidated our power, I want to make you the Secretary of Defense."

"Whoa. Wait a minute General. I'm only a Captain."

"And Napoleon was only a Corporal," said Obispo.

"So was Hitler."

"And so he was. So that's what I've decided for you. What do you think?"

"I'm honored General. I promise you, I won't let you down."

"Good. Now here is what I need you to do for me now. You know Professor de Quesada?"

"I do. He's a very smart man. Be a good guy to have on your team."

"Not my team. I'm talking about our team, you and me and Gonzalo, and whoever else you think should be in on this important action."

"Has Gonzalo agreed to join us?"

"I've hinted at it a few times but I haven't come right out and told him I want his commitment. In fact this is why I decided that I should let you see what the larger picture is all about. You're street smart Pedro. A survivor. I like that. If it hadn't been for you, I doubt I would have made the decision to get so involved in the drugs and arms deal. I owe you a lot, and now I need your judgment about Gonzalo."

"I get the feeling there's something about him that's troubling you."

"There. You've done it again. You see right through the problem and go to the heart of it."

"Well then, as they say in Hollywood, let's cut to the chase."

"You obviously watch too much TV. I sensed the professor was quite upset when I told him Enrico Garvas had died. And that was even without telling him the details."

"He's not the only one who was shocked. Some of the guards at the dungeon threatened to quit because of it. There was a lot of respect for the old cop. It's no surprise to me, other cops would be terrified to learn the details of his execution. And for what. Just because he told you he had evidence someone was smuggling coke on our aircraft. From what I understand, not once did he ever link you to our operation. No I can understand the professor's reaction when you told him."

"So you don't think I should be concerned about his loyalty."

"Hell no. We need someone like him to establish credibility with the power people when we take over. Gonzalo can make your coup a real class act."

"Then this is what I want you to do. I've already asked Gonzalo to go with you in my helicopter to the Atabapo Project and see for himself what is going on there. Who knows, if it is as important as he says, I don't want to jeopardize the project by moving too soon on the takeover. This is an opportunity for us, you and me, to test Gonzalo's willingness to be on our team. I want you to tell him everything, and I am counting on that keen judgment of yours to determine if we should keep him, or if I have to, detain him in Medellin like Garvas until he gets the message."

Across the city on the outskirts, waiting in the anteroom at the University of Bogota was Chester Munn, the aide to the U.S. Ambassador to Colombia, Robert Runciman. Professor de Quesada, hurried out of his office, still clutching documents, extended his hand in greeting.

"Forgive me Mr.Munn. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Come in."

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice Professor."

Surrounded by stacks of books, a scent of old leather and mould, the office seemed more like the secret treasures of an ancient library, than the domain of one of the world's leading antiquities experts.

Munn pulled a letter from his brief case and presented it to Gonzalo.

"The Ambassador received this letter from Washington, in response to your Secretary of the Interior's request to send armed troops to our scientists in Atabapo."

"I'm surprised the Secretary was so quick to act."

"Ambassador Runciman wants to know if our scientists are in any danger at the project site."

"Recently, about ten days ago as a matter of fact, the General told me there was an attack on the cave site. Three cartel soldiers, if you can call them that, were killed."

"My God! We weren't told of any fatalities."

"The General is so determined to co-operate with your country, I'm sure he didn't want to alarm you. His request for more protection is an example of how determined we are to continue with this most important work."

Chester Munn had not spoken to de Quesada before. He was impressed with the sincerity and credibility of the old academic.

"You have come at a good time," assured Gonzalo. "The General has asked me to go to the Atabapo site and see for myself what has been achieved. That will give me the chance to personally ask your Dr. Henry Newton if he thinks the security should be increased."

"When do you think you will be leaving?"

"Within a week or so. I'm waiting for Capt. Cervantes to return from his regular aircraft maintenance trip to Florida."

"The Ambassador will be delighted to hear this good news. Also we were wondering if you might have any opinions on why the cartel would attack a scientific site."

"Who knows why the cartel does anything. I suspect they may have thought they could scare us, and make us give up the project."

"But why? I've heard rumours this cave message may be one of the most important archaeological discoveries ever made. Why would they try to ruin it?"

"I think they may feel that our whole operation is a front used to penetrate their drug processing areas, and the American presence here is an extension of your war on drugs."

"Well I hate to admit it Professor, but it looks like we are loosing the war. Especially in Florida. No matter what we do, the supply increases. I just hope this madness doesn't result in your country loosing any of its citizens."

"Tell the Ambassador I will report to him as soon as I can when I get back, and thank you Mr. Munn for coming to see me personally."

Painting and writing by William James Johnson can be seen at www.noozoon.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 22 William James Johnson

2005-04-08T11:32:00.000-04:00

General Fernandez Obispo arrived earlier than usual, expecting good news about the attack he had ordered on the Atabapo site. The brief message caused an immediate reaction in the normally controlled Secretary of the Interior.

"Damn! Damn! Damn! Those goddamn gringos killed three of my men," cursed Obispo, pacing up and down, stopping for a moment to feed the fax into the shredder, glancing at the narrow strips of paper curling into the container. He was devastated with the news that the scientists at San Fernando had armed themselves, and had succeeded in running off the attackers he had chosen.

"Rosarita get in here. I want to send a message to Atabapo."

His red cheeks looked about to burst. From experience Rosarita knew this was not the time to be asking questions. Obispo was livid. She had not seen the contents of the fax. It was the General's policy to be the first and only person to scan the morning communications, to ensure his covert activities remained secure.

"To Doctor Henry Newton: I am deeply saddened by the news that there was a breach of security at your base. Thank God no one was harmed. I must warn you, the cartel will not take lightly the loss of three of its men. It was no surprise to learn that Carlos Mendoza was one of the attackers. The man was a traitorous opportunist from America, who has finally gotten what he deserved. Arming yourselves, in my opinion, was a serious mistake in judgment. I would not be surprised if the cartel retaliated soon. You must remember what they did to those poor Supreme Court Justices. What I am worried about Dr. Newton, is the fact that the depth of the evil of the cartel, will without doubt jeopardize the important work you are doing, and will increase the risk of more killing at your site. I am prepared to ask my government for additional funds to guarantee your safety. My request for added security for your team would be greatly helped if you could contact your superiors and get their approval, and some financial assistance. I await your decision. Sign it Fernandez Obispo etc. etc."

"Was there anything else Mr. Secretary?"

"Yes. Send a fax to Miss Garvas. In answer to your question about the condition of your father, I've been informed that he is progressing very well since he got over his bout of pneumonia. I've told him how hard you are working for your country, and he has asked me to tell you how proud he is you are doing such important work. Sign it yours sincerely, General Fernandez Obispo, Secretary of the Interior."

As his secretary prepared to leave his office, Obispo thought of something else. "And Rosarita, call Professor de Queseda and tell him I must see him as soon as possible."

Within the hour, Gonzalo de Queseda arrived in the office of the Secretary of the Interior.

"What have you heard from Atabapo?" asked Obispo.

"Everything is progressing well. The attack by Barbarosa is behind them. All of the injured are back to full time work. The collecting of data from the cave is working better than we thought at first. The Americans have come up with a new technology which allows them to photograph the inscriptions without distortions. I'm pleased with what they have sent me."

"And this morning...you received a fax about the raid on their camp last night."

"Raid! I haven't heard anything about a raid. What happened?"

"What I'm going to tell you must be kept top secret," said Obispo, his voice dropping to a whisper."

"Of course General. You know you can trust me. Like you, I want what is best for my country."

"Three of my men were killed last night."

"My God! How? What happened?"

"Do you remember Carlos Mendoza?"

"The American?"

"The same. He was leading a small group of attackers on the compound, to intimidate the Americans, so I could justify sending in more troops for their protection, but apparently after the Barbarosa fiasco, the gringos have armed themselves and managed to kill three of my men."

"And Mendoza?"

"He was killed too. This is not going very well Gonzalo. Let me ask you.
Do you think we can trust Estrelle Garvas?"

"I'm sure of it. She is like yourself General a true patriot."

"Particularly as long as she believes her father's life depends on her co-operation," said Obispo sarcastically.

"That may be true. But let me assure you, I see no fault with this young woman. Her messages are always completely up to date. No I wouldn't question her trust."

"But what if she learned that her father has died?"

"That could be a different matter. I don't know how she might react," said Gonzalo.

"Well that is why I asked you to come here. I didn't want to risk anyone hearing our conversation. It's a fact Gonzalo. He's dead. Enrico Garvas is gone. Guess he wasn't as tough an old bird as we thought."

Gonzalo was shocked by Obispo's remarks, lacking in sympathy, and compassion. He was careful not to overreact with his superior, because Obispo had the reputation of destroying the career of any who differed with him.

"I'm sorry to hear this. I always liked him. I never believed Enrico was anything more than a trustworthy policeman, doing his job."

"Like stealing drugs, and making up lies about corruption. I don't understand why you thought he was trustworthy. Gonzalo, my friend, one must do what one must do. Let's not waste time debating it. You should be happy the thorn in my side has been removed."

Gonzalo suddenly became silent. He always thought he was one person who could read the changing moods of the General. It was this ability which often made Obispo reveal more of himself than he had intended.

"So...You were saying about our spy Estrelle Garvas. You had some doubt she could be trusted to continue to help us after she learns her father is dead."

"That is a possibility Mr. Secretary. But don't get me wrong. I still believe she is a true Colombian. We must ensure she does not learn of her father's death until she has finished her task."

"I've just replied to her last fax, that her father is progressing well after having pneumonia."

Gonzalo listened carefully to what his leader had just said. Suddenly like a light had been turned on, his anxious expression changed into a look of relief. "That's it then," said Gonzalo. "You must follow up that fax with another in a couple of days, expressing your sorrow that he has relapsed and the doctors were unable to save him. This happens to many old people. Pneumonia is a godsend in this situation."

"See...That's what I like about you. You are a survivor just like me. By letting her know he is gone, I eliminate the risk of her finding out from someone else. We are going to make a good team you and I, when the time comes."

Gonzalo felt a chill run up his spine when he heard Obispo suggesting they would be partners in his future plans. He knew what the underhanded Secretary of the Interior was capable of when it came to controlling everyone around him. Gonzalo had friends on the inside who told him how Enrico Garvas was drowned in the dreaded dungeon at Medellin. The two shook hands, and Obispo hugged the professor before dismissing him.

When the daily fax arrived at San Fernando de Atabapo, Stuart rushed into Estrelle's tent with the message from Bogota. "How's this for a bare faced lie?" asked Stu, as he passed the note to Estrelle.

At first she wanted so much to believe Obispo was telling the truth, she could feel an excitement building up inside her. She looked at Stu, her eyes pleading for his agreement that maybe what Carlos Mendoza had said was the ranting of a desperate man trying to save his life.

"He said he is progressing well," said Estrelle.

"Let's show it to the others," suggested Stu.

In the dining tent, they were preparing to eat breakfast before another day in the cave. Hank was reading the fax Obispo had sent, ridiculing the General's sentiments, that they showed poor judgment in arming themselves.

"I can't believe this guy. He pretends he wants to help us, after ordering the attack. Then he asks me to try to get more money from the U.S., so that he can put more of his men here to keep us under his control. You can be damn sure if we hadn't armed ourselves, we would all be dead now, or rotting away in the Medellin fort."

"Take a look at what he sent me," said Estrelle. "Read it out loud Hank."

When he finished the brief note he slammed it down on the table. "That lying son-of-a bitch."

Arumba was the first to react. "I always knew Enrico was an honest cop. Now we know for sure how far this madman is prepared to go. He had to destroy your father to protect his plan to become el Supremo of Colombia. He pretends he is concerned about our safety, when in fact, we'll all be killed when he gets what he wants out of us. He's that kinda guy."

"So what would you do?" asked Jess.

"Keep him dangling. Make him more dependent on us. He's no fool. As long as he is convinced there is something of value in the cave message, he will be standing in the wings waiting to grab the whole show."

"Whatever we send him, better be credible," said Laura. " I must agree with Arumba, this guy is no dummy."

"We should convince him we really don't need any more protection now that we have Arumba and his men," said Jess.

"No way Jess. Don't mention my name. We don't want to confirm anything. The longer we can keep him from knowing about our defenses, the safer we'll be. Besides, rumours of my underground movement have been spreading throughout the jungle. He probably has already heard that I'm here. Natives who have been as poor as dirt all their lives, are finally earning a livable wage, protected by the drug lords. We are the enemy as far as they are concerned, and Obispo becomes the hero if he declares all out war on me and the zambos."

"You're right," said Estrelle, interrupting him. "The General knows you are here."

"How would you know that?" asked Hank.

"I told him a few weeks ago when I was sending my report. I did it because it was the kind of information he would have gotten sooner or later, and I felt it would convince him he could trust me."

"She's got a point there," said Laura. "That was probably why he sent those guys to attack us."

"Particularly if Mendoza had anything to do with it," said Arumba.

"So where do we begin?" asked Jess, attempting to get the team back on target.

"I think we should tell him we suspect the map in the cave appears to be genuine, and we would like to pursue it further when we have finished recording the message," said Laura. "That way we can keep the project open-ended."

"I think we should also refer to the mountain Ahuntipec," said Hank. "It makes the whole thing about the map sound more genuine."

"And I could send a fax saying how pleased I was to hear my father is getting better," said Estrelle. "And say how much I appreciate his prompt reply to my request."

"Good idea Estrelle," said Jess. "Just don't lay it on too thick. We don't want to wake the sleeping lion."

As Gonzalo had suggested, Obispo's fax about the death of Enrico reached Atabapo three days later. Estrelle agreed with the others this was the General's way of clearing up the uncertainty of her father's fate. She followed up his message thanking him for his sympathetic compassion, with her assurance she wished to continue as a trusted member of the team, a decision she was certain her father would have approved.

Smiling as he read her sincere expression of loyalty, Obispo called Gonzalo.

"You were right. The girl even thanked me for being so caring. I think I am going to let her stay at Atabapo. She'll do more good working there, than bringing her back to university."

"What are you going to do about the rebel leader Arumba?" asked Gonzalo.

"Don't worry about him. He'll end up like Mendoza on a heap of ashes. What I would like to know, is what you can tell me about the mountain Ahuntipec."

"The sacred mountain of the Chibchas," replied de Quesada.

"Where is it exactly?"

"About a hundred miles south of the Atabapo cave. You can't get to it because of the dense forest which conceals most of the mountain. At a distance you can see its overall shape, but I've never heard of anyone approaching it from land. Why do you ask General?"

"Garvas said in her last fax that her team think that there is a map on the cave wall which may refer to Ahuntipec. They even say that they might want to get a closer look at it when their work is done at the cave. What do you think I should do?"

"Acknowledge their message and tell them the project is to study the Atabapo cave, not to investigate the surrounding jungle. That way they haven't got your commitment to continue their work. Then if you choose to pursue it later, you can use the mountain and cave connection as a lever to extract more American dollars from our compadres in the north, and appear to be sincerely interested in developing more knowledge of our native past."

"Especially if I tell them that Ahuntipec is as you say, 'a sacred mountain'."

"Precisely."

"But I've never heard about this sacred mountain, nor do I know much about the original Chibchas."

"That was so long ago General that the subject is practically non-existent. I know something about it, because my doctoral thesis was about the history and myths of our origins. Most Colombians know very little of their ancestral heritage."

"But why sacred? You called it sacred. There must be a reason," insisted Obispo.

"The legend is that a primitive race in pre-history journeyed across a treacherous landscape to the protection of an enormous cave in a mountainside where miraculous power from a special device gave them immortality. It's all myth, but it adds mystery and romance to a dark past."

"But what if it were true?"

"All legends have that element of dream world in them. All have a modicum of truth, but on closer inspection, one sees that there is a normal explanation for them. It is their antiquity which imbues them with mystery."

"So I should just wait?"

"We don't even know that the diagram in the cave is a map and if so, that Ahuntipec is depicted on it. I would say wait and see is your best option at this time."

"Thank you Gonzalo. Before you leave, I've got a very important job I would like you to do for me."

"Of course General. Whatever I can do to help."

"You've got to go to San Fernando and see for yourself what is in that cave. I need someone I can trust, and I've always trusted you."

"When would you like me to go?"

"As soon as I can arrange for Captain Pedro Cervantes to fly you in my staff helicopter. He is in Florida right now on routine servicing of our anti-drug aircraft. I want Pedro to see for himself what is going on in the Atabapo area so that he can take over Verez job. You should be ready to go in about a week."

"I'll start preparing right away."

"When the change happens, and believe me it is going to happen, I will move you over here where we can both work together to build a better Colombia for all our people. Thank you again my friend, and if you hear anything more about the project and the map, please call me."

"I will keep you informed Mr. Secretary."

Again Gonzalo had that sinking feeling when Obispo referred to his future as a member of the team.

Read other novels by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.blogspot.com

Trees Hold Up the Sky 21 William James Johnson

2005-04-08T09:31:00.000-04:00

General Obispo was resplendent in his white uniform, trimmed in gold braid. Leaning back in his pliant leather chair, he buzzed his secretary. He was wearing his dress uniform to attend the graduation ceremonies at his son's private school in Bogota, where only the kin of the elite were enrolled, to give the formal address on behalf of the government.

"Rosarita, I would like you to draft a letter to Mr. Harold Runciman, Secretary of State of the United States of America."

"Si Mister Secretary. Do you wish to begin now?"

"Ah yes. I will give you my thoughts on the matter, and I will expect you to put it into good English like you always do. You are my right hand Rosa." She smiled at his praise. She had been his secretary for twelve years, since he had become Chief-of-Staff of the Colombian Drug Enforcement Agency.

"I would like you to say something like this...Mr. Secretary, I am pleased to announce that the San Fernando Cave project is proceeding at a real good rate...no wait. This is where you come in."

"May I suggest you say 'Progress at the San Fernando project is very encouraging," suggested Rosarita.

"Not strong enough. You see Rosa, I want the gringos to come through with a lot more money. We've got to make them think great things are happening down here."

"Are you still getting messages from Miss Garvas?"

"Of course. That was probably one of the smartest things I ever did. She is a true patriot."

"What do you think she will do if she finds out her father has died?"

Obispo slapped his desk with a resounding smack. "Never...and I say it again, never is she to hear about this."

"I just thought..."

"You're not paid to think. I do the thinking, and you correct my English. You know what I expect of you. Go back to your office and have something ready for my signature before the end of the day."

"I will sir. I'm sorry I brought up the subject."

"I am too. And while you are at it, call transport and notify my aide we'll be leaving for my son's school in thirty minutes."

When she left his office, he went into his washroom behind the teak paneling. Closing the door behind him, he turned smartly to view himself in a full length mirror attached to the rear of the door. Sucking in his stomach, he tugged at the bottom of his tunic, and smoothed out the wrinkles. He reached into the small cabinet above the sink and took out a hand mirror. Turning sideways, he confirmed his appearance was all he wanted it to be. He tried it with his hat on and off. He was convinced that in time, his splendid image would be known throughout the world. He would use the weapons sent by Uncle Sam to fight drugs, to take over his government.

At the cave site Jess and Estrelle were drafting her routine message to Obispo.

"What if I tell him that Laura feels that there is a visual glossary which will help in breaking the code," she asked.

"I don't think so," said Jess. "That might make him want to interfere too soon. We've got several weeks of collecting data ahead of us. Why not tell him that much of the mural has deteriorated with time, and we may never know the whole story of what it means?"

"Don't you think he might want to send someone to check and see if we are telling the truth."

"Maybe so...wait I got it. Tell him that there is so much here, that we may have to be working on this for years. As long as American money keeps coming in for the project, I'm sure Obispo will be happy."

"Sure. And I could say we have found new passage ways which are covered with murals."

"And that's the truth. I wouldn't be afraid of him sending someone to check on that fact."

"Then that's that. Thanks for your help Jess".

"Oh there is one other thing you could include."

"What's that?"

"Why not ask him for a progress report on your father?"

Tears glistened in her beautiful eyes at the mention of her father.

"I'm sorry Estrelle. I didn't mean..."

"It's not your fault Jess. I just have this gnawing feeling that my father is dead. I wish I knew for sure. After all the suffering Obispo put him through. Knowing for sure it was all over, would be a relief."

Jess held her closely in his arms as she sobbed silently.

"I wish there was something I could do," said Jess.

"Just being here is all that matters."

He gently passed his hand over her cheeks and wiped away the streaks of tears which moved slowly down her beautiful face. He studied her childlike expression, feeling her vulnerability. He thought maybe Arumba could use his connections to find out about her father. But he felt that it would not be wise to suggest anything to her now and get her hopes up without reason.

A few weeks passed without problems. The special tapes supplied by the Washington communication's experts were providing excellent data for future analysis. Even Arumba felt his task was becoming redundant. The locals had stopped requesting permission to enter the cave.

That evening, they were all sitting around a comforting campfire discussing the day's work when they heard the echoing crack of a rifle being shot in the direction of the cave. Arumba seized his Uzzi and charged in the direction of the sound, ordering his men to back him up. He warned the others to take cover, as he disappeared into the blackness of the night.

The others hurried to take cover in a bunker Arumba and his men had made for such a contingency. Since his run in with his former compatriot, they all carried sidearms. Laura was experienced in the use of a pistol, and automatic weapons. Estrelle was reluctant at first, but with Jess' guidance had become proficient, and had a natural ability in hitting her target.

"Should we back up Arumba?" asked Hank.

"He built this shelter for our protection. I'm sure he would want us to hold it, and protect our data. After all, if someone has gotten past his security, it must be to take our findings. What other reason could there be?" said Jess.

"The cartel has gangs of thugs who are used to intimidate innocent people to establish their control over them," said Estrelle. "Besides, only a fool would rush out into the darkness, where guns are going off. I agree with Jess. Arumba would want us to hold our ground."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," said Laura, offering Estrelle a high five sign of approval.

A sudden burst of gun fire and the explosion of a grenade lit up the area in front of the cave. They could see the outline of dark figures scurrying for cover. Another burst of Arumba's Uzzi, and it was all over. Soon the tall leader, his weapon in the back of a Colombian mercenary, returned to the camp. His prisoner was Carlos Mendoza.

"One guy?" asked Jess. "Only one guy caused all this ruckus."

"There are two others out there who wont be bothering us anymore. My men are taking care of it."

"Any of your guys hurt?" asked Hank.

"Not seriously. The one on duty got winged on his left arm. Thank god he was wearing his flak jacket. The bullet deflected from his jacket and skinned the muscle of his arm."

"You got lucky this time," said Carlos. "You don't think our boss is going to just hang us out to dry do you?"

"This is Carlos Mendoza, formerly of the Cuban drug connection in Miami. Now a big wheel hit man in the Colombian cartel."

"What did you expect to find in the cave," asked Hank.

"Nothing ."

"You lost two men for nothing?"

"Our boss expected me to get even with you after what happened the last time we were here. I didn't want anyone to get killed. We only wanted to scare you so that we could get control of your operation. That's what all these demonstrations of violence are about. Our boss wants to be the boss of all the bosses. You know. Like the Mafia back home."

"Who is your boss?" asked Estrelle.

"I can't tell you. If he ever heard I had revealed his secret, I'd be a dead man. That's the way he is."

"And if you don't tell us, you are going to be a dead man anyway," threatened Arumba.

"You know me better than that Arny. And I know you. Remember, we were once partners. You wouldn't kill me."

Arumba didn't like the way this encounter was turning into a stalemate. He paused for a moment then continued.

"Have you sent your message to Obispo yet?"

"Not yet. I usually send it early in the morning, so that it will be on his desk when he gets to his office," said Estrelle.

"Good. Include in it, what happened here, and mention that two of the intruders were killed, but the third man, Carlos Mendoza, was taken captive, and we await Obispo's decision on what we should do with him. Include also that he admits to working for the cartel and has given us the name of his boss."

"You can't do that. I didn't tell you who my boss is."

"True. You didn't. But Obispo doesn't know that now does he?"

"But they'll kill me. Let me go Arny. I'll disappear. You'll never see me again. I promise. Please don't send that letter."

"Does this mean you are going to tell us the name of your chief?"

"Will you let me go if I tell you?"

"That depends."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"On whether I believe you or not. So who is it?"

"Obispo, the big cheese himself."

"Obispo!" said Hank. "I thought you said Carlos worked for the cartel."

"I do work for the cartel, but the reason you yanks can't get a handle on it, is because it is controlled from the top. Obispo is the guy who is going to get the whole ball of wax," said Carlos. "He plans to be for Colombia, what Castro was for Cuba. And the Americans are too stunned to see where the real threat is."

"You could be saying this because we have no way of proving it," said Estrelle.

"You should talk. He's already killed your father. The man has no conscience when it comes to moving his plan ahead," said Carlos.

"He's dead? My father is dead?"

"You should be glad. I've never seen a guy take such cruel punishment and still come back time and again. Obispo is a perverted monster. He took pleasure in observing the tortures he ordered. Your father drowned in a vat of excrement kept in the cellar of the old fort in Medellin. He was held under by another prisoner who did it to save his own neck. Obispo is not human. He's the worst kind of monster, and if he ever learns that I revealed this secret, a vat of shit would be too good for me."

"So what do you expect from us?" asked Arumba.

"For godsake don't tell anyone about what happened here."

"I'll do better than that. We can tell Obispo what happened, and say the only body we were able to identify, was one Carlos Mendoza. All deceased have been cremated to discourage the digging up of corpses by jungle carnivores. That should be a good cover for you while you are trying to make a new life for yourself."

"You would do that for me?"

"Not for you. For ourselves. This way he will know we have a secure base and he might back off and let us get our work done."

"This could work," said Hank.

"I'd like to suggest that Estrelle sends two messages," said Jess. "One of the routine ones first thing in the morning, followed up by Arumba's fax later in the day. Make it seem that Estrelle is still his inside operator. Having a direct link to Obispo is important for our long range safety. After all, the Atabapo Project is Obispo's goose that lays golden American eggs."

"Go on Carlos before the sun comes up. This is the second time I've been a good guy to you. But I can promise you three times and you're out."

Carlos extended his hand to Arumba. The tall black man slapped it down with considerable force. Momentarily stunned at his response, Carlos turned his back on them, and dashed into the jungle blackness, heading for his future.

View the biography of William James Johnson at www.noozoon.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 20 William James Johnson

2005-04-07T17:45:00.000-04:00

Estrelle was a changed person at breakfast. The stress which she had been under had suddenly disappeared when she learned that the others were aware of the power Obispo had been exercising over her. Hand in hand, she and Jess led the zambos up the path to the cave entrance. Hank and Laura waved goodbye as they returned to the work tent to study the film they had taken.

Arumba explained to Jess that many of the local natives wanted to work on the project now that they had seen their friends so eager to enter what they called "the temple cave,".

"They have some idea that as long as they are with you, they will not be hurt as some have been in the past."

"I don't suppose you can make them understand about the danger of the radiation?" asked Jess.

"I'm sure that is what they are referring to. Last night several of them were talking to my men. They told many stories of people becoming sick after having been in the cave, but they also said that the sacred pictures had miraculously healed some of them. They're convinced that you may have a way to help them be healed without running the risk of bad results."

"Tell them we would like to help them," said Estrelle, "but we have no more money to hire them."

"I've tried that already," said Arumba. "They are not interested in money. They just want to be able to say that they have been inside the sacred cave. It's a combination of religious belief and superstition. I don't know what you should do."

"If we say yes," offered Estrelle, "It won't stop there. I know these people. These are my people. They are very devout. Their beliefs are a mixture of the Christianity imposed by the Spanish, and the blood letting of the royal Incas. If we agree to let them come into the cave with us, word will spread throughout the jungle and soon we will not be able to do our work because of the thousands of the faithful looking for miracles."

"But if we turn them down, they may create a worse problem for us," said Jess.

"Let me tell them that if there is time when we are finished our project, we will let them come in with us, and we will use our powerful lights so that they can see what we have been doing. That way, they are less likely to create a problem, and we'll be able to delay having to deal with them."

"What do you think Arumba?" asked Jess.

"I can live with that. At least it's a solution in the short run."

"Is it going to add to your problem with providing security?"

"It isn't going to make it any easier. The more natives we have hanging around, the more chance there is of cartel intrusion. It's too early to tell."

"Estrelle, I would like you to tell them we hope they haven't had too much difficulty getting here. Tell them we will have to discuss what we wish to do about their entering the cave with our leader. We'll let them know as soon as we can, how we will handle their requests."

Estrelle moved into the centre of the group of natives and did as Jess had requested. Disappointed, some of them looked down as they began to move out of their group, when a voice in English shouted.

"You can't keep us out. This is our cave, not yours gringo."

Arumba recognized him, Carlos Mendoza, a former member of his select group of zambos. He too had come from the U.S. after escaping a DEA bust in Miami. He had been a trusted friend, but realizing that Arumba was too straight for him, made connections with the cartel to infiltrate Arumba's group with the ultimate aim of bringing down the American leader.

"Keep out of this Carlos. It's none of your business."

"I'm making it my business. These natives have every right to visit their cave, and neither you or all your American friends can keep them out."

"You don't understand. It's too dangerous inside the cave. We cannot risk letting in these simple folks who could be permanently damaged."

"Don't listen to him my friends. This is another trick by the gringos to control your lives. If it is so dangerous, why are they going in the cave?"

Arumba seized Carlos by the throat and turned him over to two of his security men.
"Cuff him and take him back to my tent. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Wow! What was that all about," asked Jess.

"You and Miss Garvas should go on with your work. I'll take care of this security matter," said Arumba.

The two scientists entered the cave opening, leaving the small group of curious natives behind them. Arumba hurried along the path to catch up with his men and the protester, as they headed for the security tent. He didn't say anything until they were inside the privacy of the canvas walls. Arumba motioned to his men to leave. Alone, he spoke in a controlled, low voice.

"What the hell are you trying to do Carlos?"

"I was right wasn't I," asked Mendoza. "This cave is theirs, not yours or your American friends."

"You don't understand," said Arumba. "As I told them, the cave is a very dangerous place."

"Oh sure it is. That's why your people can go in, but the natives need permission. What the hell has happened to you Arny...And what is all this Arumba bullshit about? Wasn't there enough chance for you to save your own so-called African-Americans back home, you had to come down here and stick your nose into the Colombian trade?"

The black leader grabbed him by the throat in a vice-like grip which made his eyes bulge as the pressure built up inside his skull. "Listen to me you son-of-a-bitch. I'm only going to say this once. You mess around with this project, you and your people, and you are as good as dead."

Gasping for air when Arumba released him, he was stunned by the enormous strength of his former friend. "They aren't gonna let you get away with it. Even if you do me, they'll send someone else. Your innocent locals will soon be working for the cartel, and all the magic of your cave isn't gonna stop that."

"Two Americans have already lost their lives because of that cave," explained Arumba. "If we let the locals come and go as they please, there's no saying how many of them will be poisoned by the atmosphere inside there. I'm not sure myself what is going on, but having to worry that you and your thugs might try to knock us off isn't making it any easier."

"So what am I supposed to tell them?"

"Just that cave specialists from the U.S. are here on a cultural exchange, with the full approval of Obispo and the Colombians. It's a joint venture. Call it what you like, but believe me when I say, the only reason I'm being so easy on you now, is that I want you to bring them that message. Any more intrusions, and I promise, the next time we'll shoot first, instead of talking."

Carlos Mendoza ran back into the trees when Arumba released him, where two of his friends were waiting for him.

"How did you get away?" asked Juan Castillo.

"The guy's crazy if you ask me," replied Carlos. "He claims he's been hired to keep outsiders away from this cave study they're doing. Far as I can see, he's telling the truth. He could've gotten rid of me right there, but I don't think he's the kinda guy who can kill someone like that. No. My old pal Arnold Turner's too decent for that."

"That's great," said Tony Castro. "You figure if the boss wants us to move in on them, we won't have too much trouble then?"

"That's not what I said. Get this straight, Arnold is not the kinda leader who talks a good game. He's capable of making us all sweat if we interfere with this project. He said if I tried anything, or if any of my guys make a move on this project, all hell will break loose, and I believe him."

"What the hell is the real reason for this cave thing?"

"Arumba says it's dangerous going inside. Apparently they have already lost two of the Americans. I think it's something to do with the air inside. The scientists are wearing special gear for protection."

"That still doesn't answer my question. Is there something inside the cave they don't want us to see?"

"Yeah. And what about the natives," asked Juan. No matter where you go, they're talking about legends of healing powers coming off the walls."

"Of course they are," said Carlos. "These frightened whackos see God in everything, and anything, which gives their imaginations a chance to fly."

"He's right Juan," said Tony. "Not too long ago I read about some Indian woman in a small village saw the face of Christ in a taco she was making. She was so convinced, she walked miles to the nearest mission to show it to one of those young missionaries. The priest told her it was her faith which helped her see Jesus in her cooking, when in fact it was just a burn mark. The silly bitch built a small shrine in her tiny house, and natives came from all around to pray on the sacred taco."

"Sounds stupid doesn't it."

"That's the way it is with people who believe?"

"I suppose. So what are we going to tell the boss when we get back?"

"Don't tell him about the Jesus taco that's for sure."

"Well I know one thing. There's no way we're going to forget about what is going on here. There'll be plenty of time to move in on Arumba and the others once they have accomplished something. I think we'll just keep out of sight, so they'll think we bought their story."

"Then there's the one about the flying saucer with the face of the Virgin Mary appearing full size on its bottom."

They all laughed as they headed further into the dank green darkness of the rain forest. In many regions of this massive jungle the future was not waiting any longer. Bulldozers were ripping into the earth's air purifier at the rate of thirty thousand acres a day. No one was seeing the big picture. That would have to wait until the code of the cave was broken.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 19 William James Johnson

2005-04-07T14:04:00.000-04:00

The entrance to the cave was up a gradual slope of grassy terrain, about 400 yards from the camp site. As Hank had described it, the opening was similar to an abandoned well shaft, or a surface mine in the side of a hill. He wanted to give everyone a brief tour of the cave before getting down to the actual work.

"How was the cave discovered in the first place?" asked Laura.

"More by accident than intent. Seems a retired Mexican archaeologist and his wife were in San Fernando searching for ancient artifacts of the original natives of this area," said Hank.

"Chibchas," said Jess. "They were known as Chibchas."

"I'm impressed," said Hank. "Someone has done his homework."

"They're supposed to be extinct from what I've read," Jess continued.

"Before the Spanish Conquest, the Chibchas ruled from a central government located in Bogota," added Estrelle. "It was a matrilineal society. Rulers were selected from the female side of the family, but land was passed on through the males. They built many temples and their priests could take up to twelve years of fasting and rigorous training before they ascended to the priesthood."

"And they were the original natives of this area?" asked Laura.

"Yes. They even existed before the Incas," continued Estrelle
.
"You really know your history," said Jess.

"I am my history."

"Thanks Estrelle for that background. Apparently the Mexican doctor, Alfredo Mendez, was told there was an old Indian woman who lived about a mile outside the village who might be able to tell him where he could find artifacts. She had a map on which the cave opening was shown. He spoke her language and after a long talk with the native, was certain the map was authentic. To make a long story short, he went up river with Barbarosa and across land to the cave. He was expecting a man-made temple or pyramid. Instead he was disappointed to discover he had been taken to a small opening in a rock formation. Well you can understand his excitement after he entered and saw how enormous it was. The old woman had told him this was supposed to be the ancient cave used by the natives to escape the Spanish. As the story goes, about 17,000 people disappeared overnight. Mendez wasn't sure what he had found until he got further into the cave, and saw the inscriptions. This was the mother lode; what archaeology was all about."

"So where is he now?" asked Estrelle.

"I'm not sure. They say he returned to his home in Mexico and died of a strange wasting disease," said Hank.

"Like your two men?" asked Jess. He was sorry now that he had told them.

"But that was because they were not aware of the toxic radiation in the cave. At least our men did not die in vain. We now have the proper protective gear. Don't forget, the amount of exposure time determines the severity of the radiation poisoning. My men, and Mendez spent hours in the cave, excited about their discovery, unaware of the dangers."

"Then why are we going in now without our protection?" asked Laura.

"The radiation problem is much further inside the cave, where the inscriptions are located. Our lab in Washington found that the pigment used in covering the walls was of an unknown origin. Apparently it is indestructible, and manifests a high radiation rating."

"Then you are saying we are not in any danger entering the cave now?" asked Estrelle.

"None whatsoever. Do you think I would be so cavalier as to put any of you at risk?"

As they entered the darkness of the cave, their lights cast great shadows of themselves across a vast vaulted ceiling. The power of the interior space was akin to that experienced within those enormous baroque domes found in Spanish cathedrals. Awestruck by its immensity, no one spoke. For hard-nosed scientists, this was as close as they might ever get to a genuine religious awakening.

"What can I say?" queried Jess. "There's no way mere words could describe this magnificent structure."

"Made by nature, and the eroding power of subterranean rivers," said Hank,
Delighted they felt the same as he had when he first entered the blackness of the cave.

"And where are those inscriptions we have to study?" asked Laura.

"About two hundred yards further into the cave, in a corridor on the left. You and I will go there tomorrow in our protective clothing."

"And Estrelle and I are just supposed to wait until it's our turn," asked Jess, eager to begin his part of the mission.

"We could all go in together Jess, but I think it's safer to take turns outside as backup for those in the cave. I'm only trying to play it safe for all our sakes. I don't want anyone else to be harmed like those other two."

"You're right. I would probably be doing the same thing if I were the chief honcho."

They left the entrance of the cave to return to the tented area. It was amazing how hot and humid it felt after having been inside the rock structure, where the temperature was a constant 67 degrees Fahrenheit.

"Oh that's another fringe benefit we have. With this special clothing we are going to welcome the cooling breeze inside the cave. You guys are just going to have to decide how much clothing you can do without." laughed Hank.

Before retiring, Laura said she would like to have a talk with Jess. They sauntered away from the light of the campfire and began speaking in a low voice.

"I was telling Hank that Obispo knew about our setting up of our camp on the same day we finished moving all our supplies. Someone obviously is keeping him in the picture on what we are doing. I just thought you should know," said Laura.

"Thanks for telling me. It was probably Estrelle."

"Estrelle! Why would you say that?"

Jess explained about her father being in prison, and Obispo having her under his control.

"That poor woman. I can imagine the terrible pain she must be going through," said Laura.

"What do you think I should do?" asked Jess.

"If I were Estrelle, I would be so relieved if you told me the truth. Deception is a two headed monster as far as I'm concerned. You not only destroy the person you are deceiving, you continue to erode your own sense of self-worth."

"Then that's that. I'll select the right moment and tell her everything. Thanks for being so interested in my safety."

They returned to their tents; Hank with Laura, and Jess with Estrelle. Arumba checked on his men who were guarding the camp. The wind in the trees and the distant sounds of night searching animals, lulled them to sleep.

They were awakened by the sound of a light gentle rain striking the taut canvas of their tents. Scurrying through the puddles they gathered in the mess tent for breakfast and Hank's morning briefing. Arumba reported no sightings of intruders during the night watch. He cautioned everyone to be especially observant of any native activity which might be suspicious.

"Did your men get the protective gear and video equipment up to the cave entrance?" asked Hank.

"Everything is ready. I've hired a few native porters who will get the lights and electronic equipment to the work area in the cave," said Arumba. "You can trust the local natives. They haven't been contaminated by the cartel people in this part of the forest."

"Did you tell them about the risks?" asked Jess.

"Yes, but they seem to think that this energy in the cave is actually what makes it so special."

"I don't care if they believe in miracles, you be sure that none of the natives is allowed to get too much exposure."

"I'll keep a written record of the time they spend inside. I don't want anything happening to them either," replied Arumba.

Jess checked the supplies remaining, and saw that the ultraviolet lights had not been taken up to the cave.

"Hold on Hank. You're going to need these today when you start filming."

"Arumba said the lights are already at the entrance."

"Not these. They're the ultraviolet lights for the special effects."

Laura could see that Hank had no idea what Jess was talking about.
"We need them to check the florescence of the symbols," she explained.

"Which means?"

"Under ultraviolet, certain radio active substances glow at different frequencies, giving us a spectacular light show, plus spectral analysis material."

The morning drizzle had stopped by the time they reached the opening. The jungle sun lit up the sea of green of the Amazon rain forest. It promised to be another sweltering day for the Atabapo Project. Hank and Laura struggled into their protective suits supplied by Dr. Ama Khan. They took up the slack in the over sized equipment, by fastening velcro strips at their ankles and wrists. The visor and helmet was a single piece, which overlapped the neck of their suits. Eager to get out of the sun and into the cool interior, they checked each others equipment and entered the blackness of the cave. Hank turned on the portable generator, and suddenly the magnificence of this natural wonder was realized.

He explained that caves generally are natural cavities in the ground formed by the eroding of minerals by the passage or seepage of underground water. "This cave should more accurately be called a cavern because of its chamber like structure. In fact it is composed of a number of interconnecting chambers. We should call it the Atabapo Caverns ".

Leading the others down a limestone path Hank headed for the gallery where the symbols were first discovered. A native moved the portable generator along with the scientists, each step revealing more and more of the beauty which water and time, had left for future generations. It was obvious this immense structure had been formed eons past, by the chemical dissolution of a soluble, weakened host rock. The solution process creates great voids. The rates of reaction and solubility are dependent on temperature, pressure, and concentration of added salts. Trickling water seepage in a moderately mild temperature tended to cause the release of CO2 which deposits calcite in magnificent draping patterns.

In all directions Laura could see one chamber after another, each more fascinating than the one just traversed. Long sheets of ivory coloured limestone appeared like stage settings. Stalagmites and stalactites seemed to support the broad domed ceiling, like the handiwork of a divine sculptor. It took several minutes to reach the symbol wall in the gallery on the left. Like first entering the cathedral built into the mountain outside of Madrid, this was a moment to be cherished. About ten feet above the surface of the cave, the symbols began. Laura was pleased to observe that the intelligent creatures who had left this treasure from the past had provided a large index to the meaning of the pictographs used to express their message. It went on and on into the blackness beyond the reach of the lights.

"I think we should send these porters back," said Hank.

"I agree. There's no use having them wait while we start our recording. We can leave our generator and other equipment here. Nothing is going to happen to them."

"What about the video film?" asked Hank.

"We can take it out of its protective wrapper when we need it and put it back when we are finished. I think we should take it back to camp at the end of each day. It'll give us something to study at night."

When the natives left, Laura located the ultraviolet lights and hooked them up to the generator. "My God. What is this stuff?" As far as the lights could reach, the symbols on the cave wall began to vibrate in an hypnotic fashion which mesmerized the two scientists.

In the stillness of the depths they could hear a low hum as though the energy of the lights had brought the wall to life. They were experiencing the music of the spheres, natural rhythms which scientists believe provide the basic material of the universe. They were earthlings being subjected to alien influences from other worlds.

Laura began filming the magical phenomena of the mystery wall, while Hank narrated the effect this was having on him. "Truly this discovery is not of our earth. Never have I ever seen or even read about an inorganic structure bursting into life. There is a throbbing throughout my body as though there is a low level electrical shock being generated by some unknown power."

"That's great Hank," said Laura. "I got it all on tape."

"That is if the force doesn't somehow distort the magnetic tape."

"The technicians in Washington gave us a special material which records radioactive images, without depending upon a magnetic base. I think we'll be okay."

"And you think this area is sort of a glossary?" asked Hank.

"I think so. In all the decoding assignments I've been on in the past, the most important achievement was to identify a symbol which unlocked the meaning of the puzzle. I'm convinced whoever left this message wanted it to be understood by all men. There was no way they would have been able to predict what future generations would be bringing to their message, so obviously they made use of the objects in their environment at the time the message was formulated."

"Show me what you mean," asked Hank.

"Well there for instance is their symbol of a tree. They are showing it with a sizable stem and branches spreading out from the top."

"Couldn't that mean other plants rather than trees?"

"But look over here. These lower pictographs of groups of grain, with actual particles of seeds would more than likely be their way of depicting plants. It's all a matter of interpretation. This is not going to be the easiest code I've ever worked on. It's a matter of time and patience."

"The nice thing about it though is that if we can get it all recorded, we can go back home and work on it in the comfort of our own labs," said Hank.

The day passed quickly before they came out of the cave with their cassettes. The outside air had cooled again after a mid-afternoon downpour. The sun was slowly creeping down the distant valleys west of their camp.

"So how did you make out?" asked Jess, coming out to meet them.

"I'll know better when we set up the viewing equipment."

They followed Laura and Hank to the work area where they had prepared a darkened chamber for looking at their filmed results on a television monitor. Hank unwrapped the protective cover of the cassette and slipped it into the special VCR which had been altered to conform to the new tape the Washington scientists had provided. For several seconds the screen flickered in electronic snow and wavy lines, then suddenly a perfectly clear picture of the interior filled the screen. When the first scene of the wall pictures appeared, they gasped with excitement.

"Wonderful," said Jess. "You've sure earned your rations today."

"I can't believe how clear the pictures are," said Estrelle.

"With results like this, it's going to be a pleasure working on understanding the meaning of the wall," added Laura.

"You think that was something," said Hank. "We are coming to the part where we turned on the ultraviolet lights."

Again they were stunned when they saw the brilliance of the wall as it revealed a different level of meaning under this energy field.

"What's happening?" asked Jess.

"What do you mean?"

"The pictures aren't as sharp as they were before."

"That's because the ultraviolet exposure is having a physical effect on the mural."

"I don't understand."

"You will. When you and Estrelle go in the cave tomorrow, and turn on the ultraviolet lights, you'll understand."

"It's almost as though there is a special energy release which takes place," said Laura. "There is actually a humming vibration you become aware of when those lights are on. You can feel it in your body, even when you are wearing the protective clothing."

"But if you are aware of an energy field being released, isn't there the chance that you are degrading the mural by activating it this way," asked Jess.

Hank and Laura had not considered this. They were so overwhelmed by the experience, their scientific objectivity had been corrupted momentarily. "Jess has a point," agreed Hank. "Maybe we should contact our experts in Washington and let them try to solve the question. For now, we'll continue taking turns recording everything we can, so that we can do our serious work when we get back home."

When everyone had settled down for a well earned rest, Estrelle moved quietly out of her tent and went to the communications section of the working area. Quietly in the stillness of the night, her beautiful face was bathed in the soft light emitted from her laptop computer. She hurriedly sent a brief fax to Obispo in Bogota, telling him about the success of the day's work. The message was sent by satellite which linked the project with all the concerned participants.

Nervously she closed down her equipment and listened carefully before departing.

"So he already knows everything?" asked Jess.

"Oh my God Jess! You scared me."`

"I'm sure I did." He grabbed Estrelle and pulled her towards him. Her body was trembling and her breathing was laboured. "I know about you and Obispo. And if it means anything, I can understand why you are doing this."

"It's my father Jess."

"I know darling. You are in a very difficult situation. If it was my father who was suffering in prison, I would probably do whatever I could to help him."

"He says he will kill him if I don't cooperate, and then he will kill me."

"Keep sending him these messages. He has no way of knowing anymore than we want him to know. He is probably going to use the information to try to squeeze more aid money out of the government. Just keep doing what you are doing. In time, hopefully we will figure out a way of saving you and your father. In the meantime, believe me when I say you can count on us."

The faint moonlight trickled down her cheek with the tears which expressed more than words how much she loved him.

Read other novels by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 18 William James Johnson

2005-04-07T09:21:00.000-04:00

Hank Newton notified Washington that despite all the obstacles, Project Atabapo was back on track. Jess and Tomaso were honing their flying skills on the Severski 210. Estrelle and Laura were becoming experts in the use of the video equipment which was so essential to the outcome of their mission. The zambos had taken on the demanding task of preparing a suitable landing pad for the Severski in the midst of a dense jungle.

Arumba was proving himself to be a valuable leader, admired by his men who drew courage from his willingness to be involved in all the training which was necessary before going to the cave. After having tried descending and ascending with the winch, he insisted on operating it for his men. Jess encouraged his full participation, including letting him designate each man's responsibility.

"You sure have picked a great group of guys. It's amazing how quickly they can clear a landing pad."

"Thanks. I appreciate the way you have shown your trust in me. It's essential that a leader not be just a figure head."

"I agree. But you don't have to be down there, doing the grunt work yourself," said Jess.

"I don't believe in asking my men to do anything I wouldn't do myself. You may think that's old fashioned, but that's just the way I am."

Jess felt this was as good a time as any to ask the zambo leader about something which had been bothering him.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I've been wondering why you have done the Muhammad Ali thing," said Jess.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Arumba, puzzled at his question.

"Cassius Clay. The boxer. You remember, how he changed his name after the run in with the Army."

"Of course I remember. What are you trying to say Jess?"

"I know you are Arnold Turner, and you are wanted back in the states for murder."

Arumba fell silent, as the sting of his remark felt like he had been struck in the solar plexus without seeing it coming. Suddenly all he could think of was the futility of trying to run away from his past.

"I don't blame you," said Jess. "Not after what those guys did to your father."

Jess' reassurance helped Arumba regain his composure. Over six feet tall, with a splendid athletic build, his powerful black features made him a standout among men. The resonance of his voice, and confidence when speaking, impressed strangers. There was no doubt Arumba was a natural leader.

"My father was fighting for our people. That is what I want to do."

"But why here, in this backwater?" asked Jess.

"You know Jess, you're the first one who has confronted me with this since I've been here. I thought I could make a difference here, like my father was trying to do back home, before they killed him."

"But why here? Couldn't you have done more staying home and fighting them?"

"I would have been long gone if I didn't run when I got the chance."

"So what is it you are trying to do? " asked Jess
.
Arumba realized this was his chance to relieve himself of the enormous burden he had been carrying ever since he had been associated with Estrelle's father. He felt Jess was a man he could trust. The other Americans would not have understood why he was so committed to fighting for his own in this foreign land.

"You have no idea how corrupt everything is in Colombia. Judges on their Supreme Court have been assassinated when they tried to fight the drug lords. I'm trying to develop a loyal group of zambos, proud men of black and Spanish heritage, to turn this into a personal fight between the good guys and the bad guys. That fat pig Barbarosa, who almost killed you, came to my camp and threatened to kill anyone who would work for you gringos. Everyone around San Fernando knew about his reputation. That was why my men refused to work on your project. That peacock Verez not only knew about this, he was the one who ordered the monster to attack your party so that he could scare you off. He knew Obispo and the government wanted to take credit for the cave discovery."

"But they need us to evaluate the symbols and try to make some sense out of them."

"Of course. This cave thing is a convenient way this government can pretend they are co-operating with the mighty USA on an important cultural exchange. This is window dressing for the world. It is the same with their public pronouncements they want to work with your DEA to stamp out the drug problem. They want to make it look as though they are helping your government The real reason they are playing this false game of co-operation is that they need military help in the form of patrol planes, and sophisticated weaponry. But the U.S. is too naieve to see what is really going on."

Jess was shocked by his ongoing revelations.

"But Obispo. Isn't he on our side?"

"He's the worst one. Has Estrelle not told you?"

"Told me what?"

"About her father. He is in prison in Medellin."

"No. She hasn't. Why is he in prison?"

"She didn't tell you because the poor woman is scared to death. One false step and her father will be killed."

"My God! Is this true?"

"Her father is a genuine patriot. He was working for the government with the American DEA. He is an exceptional man. He and I were very good friends. He knew about my past and I guess that made him trust me, because he could reveal my true identity if I betrayed him."

"This is getting more and more complicated." said Jess.

"Enrico Garvas, Estrelle's father, discovered that someone was smuggling cocaine in the American planes which were supposed to be used to fight the drug lords. He tracked the contraband to a military airstrip in Florida, where a Cuban defector would remove the drugs and exchange it for weapons and American currency. This scheme was a license to print money. A couple of aircraft were returning to Florida every week for servicing. Millions of dollars came back to someone high up in the Colombian government. Garvas found out it was Obispo, the Secretary of the Interior himself. With the support of the drug barons, Obispo is planning to set himself up as dictator of this country. This was the secret which resulted in Garvas disappearing shortly before he was to go public. Obispo had him tortured in the cruelest of ways. No one can excel the Spanish when it comes to devising monstrous methods of destroying a captive. Just remember what was done during the Spanish Inquisition in the name of religion. Obispo tortures his victims until they are near death, then he orders they be given treatment and false hope they are going to be freed, before he starts the torture all over again. Estrelle was taken to see her now crippled father, and it was then she promised desperately to do whatever it would take to save his life."

"That miserable son-of-a-bitch. What can we do about it ?"

"Be on your guard. Knowledge is power. When the time comes to return to your country, or should I say our country, get out as quickly as you can with the information you need. Don't give them a chance to detain you."

"What about you?"

"This is a vast hiding place. I'll take my men and expand my force until we can attack the drug problem at its source. Interrupting the drug supply in a massive way is what is needed."

"What do you think I should do about Estrelle?"

"Love her. Never stop loving her. There is nothing she can do for her father now. But she can do much for you. She is a truly wonderful woman."

"Should I tell the others what you have told me?"

"When the time is right."

This highly personal conversation increased the mutual trust both men experienced. Jess became more attentive to Estrelle, without ever saying anything about the dilemma she was in . Resilient Laura began showing a genuine interest in Hank who gave no doubt something could develop here in time.

After two weeks of difficult physical work clearing landing pads, Hank was ordered to proceed with the move to the cave. Arumba and his zambos had developed a technique for using chain saws adapted with brush clearing blades, to level thick jungle growth in a variety of terrain within a ten mile radius of San Fernando.

"To-morrow we start the real thing," said Hank. "So here is what I would like you to do. Laura and I will be the first team to go into the cave."

Jess interrupted Hank.

"Wait a minute. I didn't come down here just for the ride."

"This wouldn't have happened if Arturo had not died" said Hank. "He and Tomaso would have been piloting us and transporting our equipment. Unfortunately that has changed. I want to pair you up with Estrelle, after we have all our gear on location. You and I are going to have to rely on our video experts to record the cave symbols. I think the teams I've picked will get along very nicely. As for the cave, don't worry, you'll have plenty of time inside it's massive walls."

"Are you going to need my men in the cave?" asked Arumba.

"I was coming to that. You and your men at first will help us establish the site. Then I am counting on you providing security for us."

"Security?" asked Jess, wondering why they would need someone to protect them.

"One of our native staff warned me that the cartel has a crew of hit men who have been ordered to destroy our cave site once we are established. He said they are out to assassinate Arumba, and scare off his men."

"Are you serious?" asked Laura.

"Down here Laura, you will find a threat is really a promise. Washington has sent us a large crate of weapons for our protection. Jess, I want you and Arumba to prepare the men once we get located at the cave."

"You've got it," said Jess.

At sunrise the Atabapo Project went into high gear. Trucks and jeeps shuttled back and forth between their hotel and the hangar on the edge of the village. Jess and Tomaso loaded the zambos with their shrub clearing equipment and the large craft roared into life, its turning blades bending the limbs of trees several feet away. Slowly it lifted above the crates and canvas stacked nearby for the next flight. The sun was higher on their port side as they headed for the cave, a hundred miles south, in a dense forest.

Forty minutes later Jess pointed to the small outcrop in the midst of a verdant carpet of tropical growth. With precision he controlled the Severski over a small clearance beneath them, thirty feet above the jungle floor. Arumba lowered each of his men with the winch, giving a thumbs up signal as the native released the cable for the next passenger. When they had all landed, Arumba put the harness on himself, and Tomaso assisted him. Soon the craft was on its way north, to begin loading the supplies.

"How did it go?" asked Hank.

"No problem. Arumba landed them all safely, then went down to help them clear the landing pad."

"We sure are lucky to have him."

"You can say that again."

"He's American you know," said Hank.

"Yes. I know."

Hank was surprised Jess knew. "And there's more."

"Arumba told me Hank. How did you find out?"

"We got a fax from Washington. One of these missing persons reports with photographs. It was just a routine thing. Something about the bureau wanting to locate him for questioning."

"That was it?" asked Jess.

"Yes. That was it. Why? Did Arumba tell you more?"

Jess decided this was not the time to create doubt about the zambo leader by giving Hank anymore personal information about him.

"Only that we should not trust Obispo."

"Why not? He's always been straight with us."

"Arumba feels Obispo is planning to take the whole ball of wax once we get the information we need."

"That's ridiculous. If Obispo didn't want us here, he could pull the plug on this project by making one phone call back to Washington. No. I don't think I would be placing too much credibility on what Arumba says. This is probably a racial thing. Zambos are half breeds. Colombians like Obispo have their own way of establishing a caste system. I think Arumba is aware of that, and this is probably his way of getting back at the system."

From the tone of Hank's voice, Jess could tell this was not the time to be debating the racial issue in Columbia.

By the end of the first day, all the equipment was transported to the cave camp and was stowed away. The clearing was completed so that Jess and Tomaso were able to land their craft.

Before returning to the village, Jess and Arumba found the arms container and distributed the automatic weapons to the zambos. Arumba instructed them in the handling and loading. Four of his men were positioned at the four corners of the site. They were to be replaced every four hours.

Back in the air, Jess could not see how there could be an assault on their camp. The forest canopy was so dense, it seemed virtually impossible anyone, including a hit team could make it there on foot.

He forgot to consider the opportunity their new landing pad provided for an airborne assault group to locate them easily, and attack the small group of defenders, who had been dispersed by the well-meaning Arumba.

After a farewell dinner at the hotel, the desk clerk said there was a telephone call for Dr. Marsh.

"Dr. Marsh. I wanted to be the one who told you." It was Obispo, calling from Bogota.

"What is it?" she asked, with trepidation.

"Good news. Your tests for HIV were negative. I had them redo some of the testing because I wanted to be sure."

"Oh my God. This is wonderful. Thank you so much General. You have no idea how happy I am with this news. Thank you for being so compassionate."

"I too am delighted senorita Marsh. Before I go, please wish all of your companions much success, now that they are located at the cave."

When she hung up she wondered how Obispo knew the camp had been set up. She returned to the bar where Hank was treating everyone to a champagne toast.

"And here she is. A toast to the lovely Dr. Laura Marsh and her beautiful companion Miss Estrelle Garvas. You guys don't know what a treat it is for fellows like us to have the company of such bright, attractive partners."

Tears began to well up in Laura's eyes. She could barely contain herself.

"That was General Obispo. My tests are back. He assured me they were negative. I don't have HIV." Jess got to her before Hank and kissed her, squeezing her lithe body in a more than friendly embrace.

"Wonderful...great news sweetie," said Jess.

"Hey move on young fellow," said Hank. "Leave some for us."

Everyone suddenly got into a real party mood, despite the exciting day which would begin in several hours. Hank and Laura left the bar and went for an evening walk in the small village. Estrelle and Jess continued talking about the message Obispo had given Laura.

"What a great way to be starting our project," said Hank.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am. I'm so excited, I hope you will do me the honour of sharing my happiness with me in Arturo's big bed."

Hank stopped in the dusty walk and kissed his companion. He had been wanting to do this for months. Her warm inviting mouth promised more. He could hardly wait as he steered her back to the hotel. Suddenly she stopped and looked at Hank.

"Did you tell him?"

"Tell who?"

"Obispo. He told me to congratulate everyone for setting up the cave site."

"How the hell would he know that?" asked Hank.

"That's what I was wondering. If you didn't tell him, someone must have done it. I thought there was supposed to be tight security about our work."

"There is. I'm not sure I like this. He must have someone inside, reporting to him."

"Arumba...could it be Arumba?"

"I doubt it. Obispo apparently doesn't care for zambos. And believe me, Arumba can't stand him."

"Well I thought I better tell you about it," said Laura. "I hope this is not going to spoil our time together."

"Are you kidding. I've been wanting to have a go at you since the first time I saw you."

"Have a go at me...not exactly romantic would you say?"

They both entered the quiet foyer of the hotel and went to her room. Still in a playful mood, Hank had his shirt off before she opened the door. Laura was impressed to see this middle aged scientist still had an energetic looking physique. She tweaked the wiry hairs on his chest.

"I like a man with a good set of pects."

View other novels by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 17 William James Johnson

2005-04-06T16:20:00.000-04:00

Arturo's widow asked Laura to remain in Bogota for her husband's funeral. Reluctantly Laura agreed after she told her that she knew about her husband's affair, and was grateful he had someone who could make his long stay in San Fernando de Atabapo more bearable.

"I am so relieved you had the courage to speak to me about this," said Laura. "Many women would have condemned me."

"It was not your fault Dr. Marsh. Arturo has always been this way. He is a most attractive man, do you not think so?"

"Very attractive. In his dress uniform, he is truly handsome."

The two women suddenly realized they were talking as though the man was still alive. There was an awkward silence followed by a gentle smile as the bereaved wife acknowledged Laura's sincere praise of her dead husband. Laura felt the widow was actually proud her husband had made such an impression on a gringo woman, a doctor no less.

"Arturo was a caring husband," continued Laura. "He spoke of you and the twins all the time. He loved you dearly."

"He loved life. It was his willingness to try everything in life which has put him into an early grave. We will miss him very much senorita."

Obispo and other government officials attended the military funeral of their comrade. Their dark skin contrasted splendidly with their sparkling white uniforms, trimmed in gold braid. Obispo had a chest full of military decorations awarded in recognition of his leadership in the war on drugs. After the twenty-one gun salute at the grave side, and the final prayers of the army chaplain, the crowd disbursed slowly. A young lieutenant approached Laura, and saluted smartly.

"Senorita. Pardon this intrusion. General Obispo would like to have a word with you."

He led her to a Mercedes limousine parked behind the funeral procession. Obispo was seated in the rear, his legs extended outside the vehicle. As they arrived he stepped forward to meet them, saluting first, then extending his hand in friendship to Laura.

"Dr. Marsh. I could not let you return without expressing my sincere appreciation for the way you helped Arturo's family in this moment of grief."

"It was not easy," said Laura. "I had no idea what to expect when his wife asked me to be a part of this intensely personal experience."

"Our women are like that. They understand men, and they value the importance of having strong families. What a man does on his own is just that. They are not judgmental as are the women in America."

"What do you mean?" asked Laura. "How can they expect to have strong families if they tolerate these outside dalliances?"

"Listen to what you have said senorita Laura. We do not use such words as tolerate when referring to relationships. You make it sound like we need permission before we can have outside 'dalliances' as you call them."

"You mean that your wives are not upset about what their husbands are doing outside their marriage?"

"I'm afraid my dear doctor you have not been with us long enough to see that we do not believe that marriage is a command to end all other relationships."

"Relationships...You mean sexual activity don't you?"

"Whatever. Colombians are proud to have the warm blood of Spain coursing through our veins. We are true romantics."

"And your women...they too are true romantics?"

"But of course...that is until they are married. It is then, the family and children become the priority. This is why we men must seek our sexual release elsewhere. It is just the way it is."

"And Arturo was just doing what came naturally."

"That's right. And thank God it was someone as beautiful as you. I envy my fallen comrade."

"Did he know he was infected with AIDS when he was making love to me?"

"This we will never know. But I had to insist you be checked for the presence of the virus. It was the only ethical thing to do."

"But I'm terrified, not just for myself but for others I have known."

"As soon as the testing results are in, I will let you know. Who knows, we may all be carrying the disease. This may be the plague which ends it all. I had no idea we would have such a conversation doctor. I meant only to tell you how much I appreciate what you have done for this sorrowing family. I will have my driver pick you up at your hotel and take you to the airport. Goodbye. And may you have a safe journey."

On the flight from Bogota to Caracas Laura began to tremble uncontrollably. She staggered to the washroom, and dropped onto one knee before opening the door. A stewardess rushed to her side and helped her stand up.

"Senorita you are so pale. Can I help you?"

"Thanks...gracias. I'll be okay now."

She bolted the door and collapsed onto the toilet, still shaking all over. She was shocked when she saw in the mirror, a once attractive woman, whose deep energetic eyes now appeared hollow, ringed in dark circles, framed by loose sagging flesh across her cheek bones. Tears began to well up. She began to cry out loud, her sounds muffled by the humming of the jet engines.

"Oh Arturo, if you can hear me, I am so sorry. I never thought for one moment that I was putting you at risk. Dear God help me. I may be dying, and I'm not ready to die."

For several minutes she spoke to herself, feeling the burden of guilt being washed away with the salt of her tears flowing down her cheeks. When the crying and confessing was over, she opened her handbag and put her makeup on the small sink. The cool water freshened her beautiful face.

Several minutes later she returned to her seat, a new person. She was ready to live with whatever might happen. The stewardess checked on her, and was surprised at how well she had recovered. She stood up and removed her brief case from the overhead compartment. The hard blue loose-leaf binder opened across her lap. For a moment she flashed back to her high school days when she would organize her work in such binders. Despite the technical nature of the information, reading the Spanish was such a treat after the hours spent trying to interpret the Russian version.

She learned that this Russian troop carrier, the Severski 210, could carry 20 passengers and three crew. Its top speed was 180 knots with an endurance of 7 hours, fully loaded.

Hank arranged for Lt.Tomaso Gonzalvos from San Fernando to meet Laura at the terminal, to fly her back to base in a small two seater aircraft. She was feeling much better now after having expressed her emotions so freely coming to Caracas.

"We've all missed you Dr. Marsh. I'm glad you are back."

"Thank you Tomaso. How is everyone?"

"Good. Everyone is good."

"And Miss Garvas?"

"She is good too. She and Doctor Jess have been working very hard getting to know our aircraft. When you see one of them, you always see the other."

"And Hank...how is Hank?"

"They are all good doctor. Doctor Hank has been very busy with Arumba and the zambos. I think their idea is a good one. It's going to save us the dangers of travelling over land to the cave. I'm looking forward to seeing the cave."

Their small craft landed at the airstrip on the edge of the village. Before making his approach to land, they saw a jeep surrounded in blowing dust heading along the dirt road towards them. By the time Tomaso had taxied to the hangar area, Jess and Hank were standing beside their vehicle, anxiously waiting to welcome Laura.

"Two weeks...It seemed more like two years. How are you sweetie?" said Jess as he wrapped his arms around Laura and lifted her off the ground.

"Hey...Wait a minute," she said, with mixed feelings. "Where is she?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Estrelle. The beautiful Miss Garvas."

Hank sensed the tension in her question.

"She's here. Probably with Arumba out back. He needs a lot of reassurance that his men will not be endangered by our plan to use the winch. Seems they have known each other for quite a few years. Arumba was a very good friend of her father's."

Laura felt embarrassed she had been so petulant. Instinctively she reached out for Jess again and kissed him this time with some meaning.

"Whew! Now that's more like it. I missed you sweetie. We kind of put things on hold until you got back. How was it? We heard you met his wife and family. That took real guts. But then I've always said, you are one gutsy lady".

"She was the one with the courage. We spent some time together, and she even thanked me for looking after her poor lonely husband when he had to be away from them. I don't think I could ever get used to this kind of attitude."

"Tomaso go and find Miss Garvas and tell her to come back with us to the hotel," said Hank.

After supper Hank asked Laura to go for a walk with him in the small village. He said he thought it would give him a chance to bring her up to date on their progress.

"We could have saved this until tomorrow?" said Laura.

"I suppose." replied Hank. "But then we would both have lost sleep tonight. I think this matter of you and Jess and now this Estrelle affair may be getting in the way of doing our job. We are professionals Laura. A great deal depends on keeping focused."

"But Hank. How was I to be focused after Barbarosa's brutal attack? And what about you? Getting over a concussion takes time. As for Estrelle, it is only natural something would happen there. After all, she was ordered to stay with Jess night and day. We really should be grateful she took such an interest in her work."

Hank smiled when she said this. "Interest...that's got to be the understatement of the year. This beautiful mestizo is completely captivated by our friend Jess, and if I'm a judge of character, he's head over heals under her spell."

"As bad as that?"

"Completely. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't take her back with him."

"So you feel that by telling me this, I'll leave the half breed to her own devices, and not make waves." Her tone was antagonistic.

"Couldn't have said it better myself. Now that we have that settled, I would appreciate it if you could tell me why you had to go to Bogota in the first place."

"By now I'm sure everyone knows that Arturo died of AIDS complications."

"Obispo sent me a coded message about it. I'm so sorry Laura."

"Arturo was worried about me. He urged Obispo to have me there when he died. The truth is Hank, Obispo wanted me to be checked for the virus."

"And?"

"Takes a couple of weeks before I'll know. I was going to tell you. But please, let's not say anything to the others until we know for sure."

"It's a deal."

"So you see Hank, I wasn't going to make waves in the first place. All I want to do, is get our job done and get to hell out of here."

"Thanks for being so understanding."

"Yes, understanding. That's me. Understanding."

By the time they reached the hotel, most of the lights were out. Hank led her to Arturo's sumptuous quarters. "This is your room now. I've been using it since you left. Have a good night's rest. We have a lot to do to tomorrow."

"And where may I ask are you going to sleep?"

"Upstairs. In my old room.

"You could stay here if you prefer."

"Thanks...I'll take a rain check on that."

"Haven't you heard? The rainy season is over."

As he turned to leave, Hank had a wide grin on his face, content Laura was going to make it after everything she had been through.

The entire party gathered for a working breakfast in the hotel dining room. A ceiling fan turned lazily disturbing the air above them rather than cooling them. Jess was in the middle of Laura and Estrelle, studying the manual Laura had been given.

"If you would allow me Jess," suggested Estrelle, "I could go with you to the aircraft and translate the Spanish while you apply the instructions in the manual. I could be your co-pilot so to speak."

"That makes sense," said Hank, still concerned about the friction between Laura and Estrelle."

"What about Laura? Are you going to let her just lie around in that king sized bed, getting fat and lazy?" asked Jess.

"Well thank you for that vote of confidence," said Laura. "I think Estrelle's suggestion is a good idea. Only I think you better include Tomaso in this training session. He is still going to be your co-pilot isn't he?"

"Of course. I thought it was understood he would come with us."

"Then it's settled," said Hank. "That's what we'll do. And Laura, I think it's time we unpack the video gear and make sure we are all singing from the same hymn book."

Hank Newton began to feel the project was at last getting on track again. He and Laura waved to the trio as their jeep left the village. She sat down on one of the wicker chairs that were scattered across the Hotel verandah.

"Let's talk Hank."

"I think that went rather smoothly, thanks to you. You want to talk. Okay, let's talk."

"The cave. Tell me everything. We'll be going there soon, and I haven't any idea what to expect."

"Well first of all, it's tremendous. We have only gone about two hundred metres into it. It's enormous. The natives believe it may be the legendary gateway to the world of their ancestors."

"Wasn't there something about a mystery cave in which 17,000 Aztecs disappeared over night to escape their Spanish conquerors?"

"That's what the old natives still believe, but there has never been any evidence such a cave exists."

"Could this be that cave? My God. Seventeen thousand people disappear over night and are never heard of again. It's hard to believe."

"I agree. But what if they were all killed by the Conquistadors. Wouldn't such a legend be to their advantage. It may be an example of historical revisionism."

"Like those stories of the destruction of ten million Russians during their experimental farm collectivization."

"Yes. That's a good example. People who destroy large numbers of people don't want to be remembered as tyrants in the course of history."

"Then there was Nagasaki and Hiroshima," said Laura.

"I thought we were going to talk about the cave. Unless of course you would rather walk down the memory lane of history's greatest villains."

"You're right. Let's talk about the cave. Is it all underground, or is it in the side of a mountain?"

"That's a hard one to explain. The opening appears to be an old well shaft."

"What do you mean?"

"The entrance is really quite small. Have you ever been to Italy?"

"Yes. Many years ago. What's that got to do with it?"

"On the Isle of Capri is the famous 'Blue Grotto' ."

"I've heard about it. So..."

"The opening to the grotto is only about six feet wide. The width of a regular rowboat. And it's only about four feet high. As a matter of fact, the boatsman warns his passengers to bend down as low as possible so they will not hit their heads as they enter."

"What has this to do with our cave?"

"Once inside the grotto you enter a large hollow area with a magnificent domed ceiling, shaped by the changing tides. It is unbelievably beautiful. Our cave is like that. A small entrance into an enormous natural cathedral."

"Why Hank, you are waxing poetic." They both laughed at her description of him and went to the equipment room to unpack the recording equipment for testing.

At the hangar, Jess sat in the pilot's seat and Tomaso was beside him making a check list from the translations they were receiving from Estrelle. Occasionally they would burst into laughter when she would use an inappropriate word in English. The camaraderie energized them to speed up the tedious detail they would have to absorb before they could take the craft on a practice flight.

By the end of the week Jess now had a complete English check list for the Severski 210. On a bright tropical morning all the expedition members were out to observe the take off of this huge helicopter. Included in the gathering was Arumba and his ten zambos. Jess and Tomaso did an external check of the aircraft before going inside.

He read the required items to Jess as he repeated them before touching them and activating whatever was required. After several minutes, the engine coughed into life, and everyone moved further away, startled by the loud noise. Moments later the machine was purring like a large cat, its rhythmic sound comforting to the two pilots.

Then what they all had been waiting for happened. The large wheels appeared to become weightless as the huge craft began to rise slowly, in a swirl of dust and grass. Soon everyone was looking up at the bottom of the plane, which suddenly left the area and did a large circle west of the landing pad. Jess returned to where they were, and hovered gently over the grassy centre, and released the winch on the port side of the helicopter, letting it extend until it touched the ground. A large padded nylon loop on the end of the cable dangled limply when the winch stopped extending it.

Without warning a large zambo ran out of the group and grabbed the loop. Placing it over his head and shoulders, he let it fall to his waist. Grasping the cable above the loop, he signalled the pilot to activate the return of the cable to the helicopter. Tomaso selected the switch and slowly the loop firmly located itself under the armpits of the zambo. Gently he lifted off the ground and was taken aloft to the cheers of all the spectators. Tomaso pulled the excited zambo into the aircraft and hugged him warmly. This was enough for now thought Jess. In fact it was more than enough. He was afraid to think of what would have happened if the zambo had been injured. He brought the plane back to the pad and shut off the engine.

Hank and Laura rushed to their friend and congratulated him. He thanked them and hurried to Estrelle who was waiting outside this circle of friends.

"You are the one they should be congratulating. Without your help on the manual, there was no way we could've done this. Thank you my darling Estrelle."

Read other novels of William James Johnson at www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 16 William James Johnson

2005-04-06T09:17:00.000-04:00

Pausing for a moment outside their office, Stuart listened, then entered quietly.

"Hate to disturb you, but Obispo is on the radio. Says he's got to speak to Laura. Now."

Jess and his two interpreters were huddled over the Russian pilot manual, the women debating the translation of the technical terms, while Jess clarified matters based upon his flying experience; making notes when they all agreed. At this rate, they would be weeks before they would be ready for the first flight.

"What's the problem?" asked Jess, annoyed with Stuart's interruption.

"It's got to be about Arturo," said Laura. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time. We're not going anywhere."

Laura hurried along the corridor to the lobby of the Granada, and followed Stuart to the radio room behind the main desk.

"Give me a couple of minutes to connect with the Secretary, then you can talk with him."

Her hands began to tremble as she waited. Generally optimistic, she was certain Verez had taken a turn for the worst, otherwise why would Obispo want to talk to her?

"Okay Doctor Marsh. You can talk to him now." Stuart passed her the microphone.

"This is Laura Marsh speaking, over."

"Miss Marsh, Fernandez Obispo. I'm so glad I can speak to you personally. Are you receiving me all right? Over."

"Yes Mr. Secretary. You're coming in very clearly. Over."

"It's about Captain Verez. He's very weak. His cold has developed into pneumonia and his doctor says there's little hope for him. Over."

"Oh no...poor Arturo. It was just a bad cold and fever when I was with him. I can't believe what has happened."

"He asked me to arrange to have you flown to Bogota before he dies. It's the least I can do," said Obispo, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I really would like to come, but I'm needed here, Mr. Secretary. We are working on the translation of the Russian flying manual and we're having great difficulty."

"I understand. Come to Bogota, and I'll give you Arturo's Spanish copy. That should make it easier for you."

"That would be fantastic. I'm fluent in Spanish, and with Estrelle's help, I'm sure we can do it. Jess will be so pleased to hear this."

"Good. Then you'll come?"

She was so excited about this other manual she didn't hear his question.

"I really appreciate you taking the time to call me about Arturo. We've all been very worried."

"It's a dreadful way to give someone bad news, but it's still better than sending it in a letter."

"I'm sure they'll all be so sorry to hear what has happened. He was such a young man, so vibrant, and full of energy."

"I'm going to miss him very much. Captain Verez was one of my best field men."

"It's very considerate of you to honour his request for my presence. I hope if I come, it will not cause any embarrassment for Mrs. Verez and her family."

"Not at all. She also wants you to come. She knows how much the Captain admired you."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Then it's agreed. You'll come to Bogota."

"Yes I will. What arrangements have you made to get me there?"

"I'll have one of our Drug Brigade helicopters from Venezuela pick you up to-morrow morning at the airport outside San Fernando, and they'll take you to Caracas where I'll have tickets for you to fly Pan American to Bogota. You'll be with Arturo early to-morrow evening. Over."

"And the time of the helicopter?"

"It'll be there by nine. Give yourself at least thirty minutes before that."

"Thank you Mr. Secretary. I really appreciate what you're doing."

"And I'm so pleased you're willing to leave your work for a short time to be with Arturo. Until to-morrow. Over and out." Laura passed the microphone to Stuart and turning away began to sob. Stuart put his arm on her shoulder and tried to comfort her.

"I'm really sorry Doctor Marsh...Laura. This is terrible. Such a young man."

"Thank you Stu...I'll be okay. Such a shock. I was hoping Obispo would say that Arturo was over his illness and would be coming back. I'd better go tell the others."

Walking slowly back to their office, she tried to regain her composure. As soon as she entered the room, Estrelle saw her red eyes and wet cheeks, and put her arms around her.

"He's dying...Arturo's dying," she sobbed quietly.

"Oh Christ!" said Jess. "We've lost two of our men, and now Verez. This goddamn expedition is cursed."

"Obispo wants me to come to Bogota. Arturo has asked for me."

"Of course...Have you told Hank?" asked Jess.

"Not yet."

"We're not making much headway with this Slavic language," said Estrelle. "I'm practically hopeless when it comes to translating technical terms. We'll miss you Laura."

"Oh! I almost forgot. I told Obispo about our problem with the manual, and he said he has Arturo's Spanish version. So we can start working on the flying part of the program as soon as I return with it."

"Hey that's great," said Jess, a genuine sigh of relief as he closed the Russian manual on the table.

"With me as your co-pilot, and the book in my own language, our troubles are over," said Estrelle, convinced at last she could make a genuine contribution to this expedition.

"You as co-pilot!"

"Of course. You didn't think I'd let that young lieutenant take my place did you?"

"He's flown on this machine before. I've got to use him as co-pilot."

"Then make me flight engineer...Please Jess. Use me. I want you to use me."

Laura smiled knowingly at Jess, and started for the door. "I better find Hank and tell him what's happened."

When she left the room, Estrelle put her arms around Jess and squeezed him. He was still grinning.

"Now was that nice? Begging me to use you", chuckling as his lips tickled her ear and moved sensuously down the side of her lovely neck.

"You know what I mean."

"Of course I know what you mean, and so does Laura."

"Well! What are we waiting for? I've had a long day, and I could sure use a little of your tension treatment now. Let's go upstairs and relax."

"Suits me. I don't get off on studying Russian."

Stuart heard them laughing as they went up the stairs. Jess and Estrelle had gone public with their affair, sharing a suite of rooms at the rear of the hotel. They had all moved back into the Granada after Verez went to Bogota. Hank took over Arturo's luxurious suite at his invitation. Standing in the midst of all the expensive antiques the Captain had acquired, Laura explained to Hank, the urgency of her request.

"So we aren't really going to be losing anytime on the helicopter manual while I go to Bogota. Having the Spanish version should simplify matters for all of us."

"I still can't believe Arturo is dying," said Hank, obviously moved by Laura's report.

"I'll hurry back. After all, he's got a wife and kids. Surely Obispo doesn't want me hanging around with them there."

"I agree you've got to go. It's the least we can do. If he's conscious, please tell him how much we miss him. Oh yes, and thank him for everything he did for us while he was here."

Little did Hank know, it was Verez who had caused Barbarosa's attack on his small party. Nevertheless, he would have had little choice about Laura returning to Bogota anyway, since Obispo had requested her presence. He was the man who had authorized the expedition in the first place.

Up in Estrelle's room, the evening was just beginning. Jess was curious about her visit to Arumba.

"So what did you think of the Chief?"

"At first, he scared me a little."

"Oh! Why's that?"

"He's got a large knife hanging from his side, and a couple of grenades attached to his shirt. And he's a big man as well."

"Big...like Barbarosa?"

"I mean tall. He's over six feet."

"Handsome?"

"Not really...more fascinating than handsome. I think it's his voice that impressed me most. It's one of those resonant voices that comes from somewhere below his belt."

"Can he be trusted?"

"What can I say? I don't know the man. The way he talks about the natives and their families, I think he can be trusted. Hank seems to think he's using the system to set himself up politically. He thinks Arumba might even rule Colombia someday."

"And he's coming with us in the plane?"

"That's what he said. At least that way you'll be able to keep an eye on him."

Jess began undoing the buttons on her safari shirt.

"Is that all you wanted to know about Arumba?" asked Estrelle, teasing.

"I've suddenly lost interest in your fascinating black man."

He put his hand inside her shirt and softly caressed her warm breast. He could feel her nipple firming under his touch.

"Then you don't care to know that he's American."

Suddenly he yanked his hand from her shirt and took her by both shoulders.

"American!"

"That's what Hank said. His real name is Arnold Turner."

Jess was obviously shaken by this news.

"From Boston?"

"Yes. Why? Do you know him?"

"Arnold Turner was indicted for murder in Boston several years ago. He escaped custody and disappeared."

"My God. Hank never told me that. Who did he kill?"

"A guy called Wendell Weaver. Seems Weaver was a grand dragon of the KKK."

"KKK?"

"Ku-Klux-Klan. An anti-black secret society that went around terrorizing Negroes. Apparently Weaver was suspected of lynching several civil rights workers back in the fifties. Turner's father disappeared on a southern march and it was believed by most that Weaver was responsible for his murder. Arnold was an attorney in Boston with a lucrative practice. He didn't like his father taking such risks, and they had a falling out. When the older Turner's body showed up in a drainage ditch, the son put his total energies into getting the guys who had done the old man in. Witnesses saw Arnold shoot Weaver at point blank range on his own front porch in Selma."

"Hank never told me any of that. He said Turner took on his new identity to help the zambos because of his latent racial consciousness."

"My God woman...You do have a way with words...latent racial consciousness." Jess chuckled at her phrasing.

"But that's what Hank said. Is it wrong?"

"Of course not...I'm only joking. You're so uptight."

"I suppose if I ask you what 'uptight' means, you'll get angry with me."

"Forget all about this language business and let's get back to what I was doing. Now where was I?"

"Your right hand was titillating my breast."

"There...you've done it again."

"What's wrong now? I suppose you'd prefer I say, 'titillating my tit'."

Jess began to laugh. "You're a riot you know that."

"I didn't say tit because I'm a lady."

"Come here lady. I want to taste the sweet end of your lovely titty."

"Jess...please darling. Don't be crude."

His hand went up under her and swept her off her feet. Dropping her on the bed, he pretended to leap on top of her, pinning her to the mattress.

"And now woman, I'm gonna take liberties with you."

Estrelle laughed. "Now who's doing the strange talk? Unhand me sir, or I'll report you to the authorities."

Jess rolled over on his side of the bed and looked up at the fan, moving lazily in the tin ceiling.

"You're a wonderful woman Estrelle. I love being with you. You're fun. Sexy. Passionate. Bright. Beautiful. You're so many good things."

"Don't stop. I love it when you talk dirty like this."

He laughed so loudly he could be heard in the next room, Stuart's room. The young Scotsman lay on his bed fantasizing about what must be going on. He was tempted to go out on the balcony and take a peek. but then he lost his courage. Soon everything was quiet. Stuart fell asleep too, wondering if Laura and Hank were having as much fun in Arturo's antique bed.

Up early the next morning, Jess drove Laura to the airport to connect with the helicopter sent by Obispo. She was very quiet and he did not want to intrude on her privacy. Carrying her overnight bag to the small corrugated building, he suddenly had a twinge of conscience.

"I'm sorry Laura."

"Thanks Jess. I'm going to miss Arturo."

"I'm not talking about Arturo. I'm sorry about us. Somehow I wish it could still be like it was in Bogota, before Estrelle."

She touched his arm and began to speak, but the throbbing sound of a military helicopter coming over the mountains interrupted her.

"Thanks Jess. I do love you."

She kissed him, and hugged him warmly.

"You going to be okay?" he asked.

"Of course. See you in a few days."

The side door of the small aircraft swung open, and a soldier in green fatigues jumped out to help her board. Jess watched the pounding machine disappear over the mountains into the sun as it headed east to Caracas to make her connection.

By early evening, as Obispo had forecast, she arrived in Bogota. Entering the terminal she heard her name being paged over the loudspeaker, requesting she report to the main information desk.

"I'm Doctor Marsh. You have a message for me?"

"Yes Doctor. There's a gentleman waiting for you in the lounge."

She walked across the promenade to the lounge, a combination cocktail bar and restaurant. A uniformed chauffeur approached her.

"Doctor Marsh?"

"Yes."

"Good evening Doctor. I'm Carlos, Mr. Obispo's driver. Would you please follow me."

He took her overnight case and led her to a black Mercedes parked in a restricted area at the front of the terminal.

"I've been instructed to take you directly to the hospital."

"Thank you Carlos. Will the Secretary be there?"

"I'm sorry Doctor. I was told to bring you to the hospital, and nothing else."

The steady line of cars heading for the capital moved out of the way as the drivers saw the official government seal emblazoned on the side of Obispo's car. Shortly after seven, they arrived at Santo Espirito General Hospital. Carlos opened Laura's door.

"Thank you Carlos. I can carry my bag."

At the top of the stone steps, she pushed open the heavy metal doors and went to the information desk. Speaking Spanish, a young nun directed her to a side office. On the walls were large paintings of the historic exploits of the Sisters of the Holy Spirit. A few antique furnishings, and a couple well-worn leather chairs completed the sparse decoration. About fifteen minutes passed when the door opened, and an elderly man with white hair and lab coat entered.

"Doctor Marsh?"

"Yes."

"I'm Doctor Tomaso Oberon, Captain Verez' personal physician." Laura extended her hand.

"I don't know how much you know about this case," he asked.

"Only that Arturo had a rather heavy cold the last time we were together. That's about it."

"I regret I must tell you, the Captain is in the final stages of AIDS. Are you familiar with this disease?"

His words devastated her. "AIDS! My God. Are you sure?"

"Positive. He has maybe two or three days left. The Captain's lungs are filled with the nodules seen only in AIDS related pneumonia. It is tragic. He has such a wonderful family. Two beautiful twin daughters."

As he spoke, all Laura could think about, was her last night in Washington, when her gay ex-husband spent the night with her. If she was the carrier who had infected Arturo, then she might also have infected Jess, and he in turn passed it on to Estrelle.

"Why have you asked me to come to Bogota Doctor?"

"Captain Verez has been crushed by the realization he may have infected you with this terrible virus. He begged me to have you come so that you can be tested confidentially, and if you are negative, no one has to know."

His explanation puzzled Laura.

"Why would Arturo think he had infected me?"

"In cases like this, we do a very detailed study of all the patient's sexual contacts so that we can take steps to prevent the further spread of this vile disease."

"Then you don't think I may have given Arturo the infection?"

"Very unlikely Doctor. You've known each other for such a short time. The virus takes five to seven years to establish itself fully. Arturo asked me to tell you he is quite sure he was infected several years ago when he was taking his training in your country. Apparently he got involved with a young woman who was a heroin addict, who confessed to sharing needles with her fellow addicts. As you know, intravenous drug users and homosexuals are considered high risk groups."

"And you're not looking elsewhere?"

"Not really...Unless of course there's something you think I should know Doctor Marsh."

He could see something was troubling her. She didn't want to tell him about her gay husband.

"It's just that I know so little about this disease."

"There's so much we all have to learn about it."

"Is it true a person who is a carrier of the virus is at risk developing full blown AIDS in the future?"

"That's right. AIDS is something like cancer. In fact it can take the form of a killing cancer. It's difficult for most to understand that this condition is not a disease as we know it, but rather, it is a deficiency condition, in which the body's immune system shuts down and makes the patient vulnerable to a number of illnesses which normally a healthy body can destroy."

"Then Arturo's condition was not something that could have happened in the past several weeks?"

"Not at all. As I've already told you, we think he may have been carrying the virus for the past six or seven years. Are you sure there isn't something you want to tell me?"

"Yes Doctor. It's about our relationship."

"That's why I sent for you. Arturo has told me all about it. The wretched man is so tormented by the possibility he has infected you, I'm sure it's the only reason he's still alive. He wants to be certain you are tested. Would you like to come and see him now?"

She followed him to the intensive care unit, where they donned masks, gloves, and gowns and went to Arturo's room.

The brilliant dark eyes which had fascinated her, looked like two muddy pools surrounded by the jaundiced flesh, sagging over prominent cheek bones. Even cadavers have more personality. Laura was crushed by his emaciation.
Arturo raised his hand, the arm weighed down by needles and clear plastic tubes.

"Laura...what can I say? I'm desperately sorry my love. Please forgive me darling. I didn't know..."

"There's nothing to forgive Arturo. I only wish there was something I could do."

"There is. Let Doctor Oberon test you. God forbid I would be the cause of you having to face such an horrendous death."

"I've already told the Doctor I want to be tested. This only proves your love for me. You didn't have to tell them about us, but you were so concerned about my welfare, you had them contact me. I love you Arturo."

He smiled and closed his eyes. The tenseness left his face, and his arm went limp. Oberon listened to his heart, then pulled the sheet over his face.

"He's gone. It was like I said. He was waiting to see you. At least now his suffering is over."

Laura began to cry, and Oberon touched her gently on the shoulder then left her alone with her friend.

"My poor darling Arturo...Was I the cause of your terrible death? Ask God to forgive me. Surely he will be merciful to someone who has suffered so much."

The door opened quietly behind her. Wiping the tears, she looked into the sympathetic face of Fernandez Obispo.

"He was very lucky to have such a good friend," said the Secretary. "I'm very glad you got here on time. Come dear lady, and let Doctor Oberon begin his testing. It takes two weeks before he will have the results. There'll be no need for you to stay in Bogota."

"Thank you Mr. Secretary for your compassion."

He put his arm around her as he led her to the nursing station.

"Before you leave, pick up the package at the main desk. It's the flying manual you requested."

To read other novels by William James Johnson click www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 15 William James Johnson

2005-04-05T14:47:00.000-04:00

Struggling to maintain her balance, Estrelle held tightly as the small boat was tossed in the foaming water. Jerking it from side to side, the zambo steered around the underwater shoals, desperately fighting the powerful current, following the shore as closely as possible. The violent white water roaring down the mountains, made the short journey to Arumba's village extremely dangerous. Dense jungle growth overflowed the banks. Roots of trees sprouting out of the river's edge, threatened to tear the bottom out of the small craft. Alligators sunning, splashed into their churning wake. Screeching their warning calls, brilliantly coloured birds, darted through the green canopy.

Two hours after leaving San Fernando, the native turned his boat into a calm tributary of the Orinoco, narrow enough in places to reach both sides with extended arms. Mosquitoes and other flying bugs too small to be seen, began to plague them. Unaffected, the zambo smiled at their attempt to rid themselves of the noxious creatures.

Where the river widened, they saw several mud huts with thatched roofs surrounding an open area. Steering skillfully, the native cut the motor and let the boat drift silently towards the rickety wharf. Several small children came running, eager to tie up the boat, and help Estrelle ashore. A few, recognizing Hank from previous visits, tugged at his trousers, hoping to be acknowledged.

Slowed by the crowding children, they made their way to Arumba's hut. Women working alone or in groups, glanced shyly at the visitors, keeping an eye on their young ones, occasionally shouting guidance in Chibcha. Their escort pushed aside the large leaves and entered the leader's door while they waited to be announced.

The fronds parted, and a black zambo, about six feet tall, with a fearsome expression, came out to greet them. Dressed in a well-worn camouflaged fatigue jacket, grenades hanging from both breast pockets, and a long panga hanging from his waist, Arumba was intimidating.

"Welcome back Doctor Henry."

"Thank you Chief. May I introduce my associate, Miss Estrelle Garvas."

The big man took her hand and gently squeezed it.

"You are an American Miss Garvas?"

"I'm a native of Colombia."

"None of us is a native of Colombia, except the few Chibchas who were not destroyed. As you can see from my colour, I am a native of Africa, and you my friend, are probably a native of Spain."

Estrelle would not let him provoke her. "I am a third generation Colombian, and I consider myself a true native of this land," her voice getting stronger as she spoke.

"What is this...a woman who speaks her mind?"

"Estrelle is an archaeological student from Bogota assigned to us by Secretary Obispo," explained Hank.

"Garvas from Bogota...Would you know Enrico Garvas?"

"He is my father."

"Pity."

His remark surprised Hank.

"Why's that Chief?"

"I knew her father very well. Before Obispo asked me to come here to help with the Drug Brigade, I used to work with your father in his investigations."

"So what happened?" asked Hank again, now anxious to hear the whole story.

"Obispo sent him to prison. He got mixed up in some drug deal..."

"That's not true," proclaimed Estrelle, ready to defend her father.

"Are you saying Secretary Obispo lied?" asked Arumba, a wry grin as he felt he had penetrated her defense.

Estrelle realized she might be endangering her father if she debated with the zambo.
"The cocaine he had, was seized in a raid. He was going to turn it in as he'd always done before. No one would believe him. That's what happened."

"Maybe. I've never met anyone caught with illegal drugs who has any idea how it happened. They've all been framed."

"My father never said he was framed. He just wasn't given the chance to be heard. It was shameful what they did to that poor man."

"I am sorry for your father. But you know yourself how wide spread this drug problem is. Sometimes I think we are becoming paranoid about it. It is a devastating disease which seems determined to alter the lives of all our people, even the simplest native living in the jungle. Everyone in Colombia eventually is touched by the white poison. Your father got caught. It's most unfortunate."

"I read a recent story in Time that because of the drug problem, Colombia has the highest per capita murder rate in the world," said Hank.

"Over twenty thousand in this past year," confirmed Arumba. "It's a real war and neither side is winning. Obispo is doing whatever he can to get it under control, but so far, it keeps growing. That's why he had to make an example of your father."

"But my father wanted to help crush the drug traffickers. He was loyal to the Interior Secretary, and look what he got in return."

Estrelle could see by the expression on Hank's face she should let the subject die. She wondered what they would say if they knew the real reason Obispo had put him in prison, and how he had blackmailed her into coming on this expedition.

"But it's not drugs that brought you here," said Arumba.

"That's true. We're going to be returning to the cave, and I'm going to need your help," said Hank.

"There's a lot of talk about this cave. Some even say you've had a couple of men die because of it. Is that true?"

"Yes. Two of my men were exposed to the unique radiation from the cave wall, and it was so severe they have died. But that will not be a problem for your people. They will not be expected to go into the cave."

"And your own people?"

"Now that we know how devastating the radiation is, we've come with protective clothing for our scientists. It shouldn't be a problem now. What I need is help from your men to return to the site and get our new equipment working."

"Now that Barbarosa is dead, I don't see anything to stop us. How many will you need?"

"Ten."

"Only ten...? The last time we worked together, you used thirty of my zambos."

"We're not going to be trekking overland this time."

"Oh! How do you expect to get there?...Fly?"

"That's right."

"But there's no place to land."

"We're going to take a large helicopter, and lower your men as close to the cave as possible to clear a landing pad for us."

"What do you mean...lower my men?"

"This machine is equipped with winches on each side, which we're modifying so that men can be lowered by them. Once on the ground, they'll have to clear the trees and debris for the helicopter to land. With the new recording devices we've brought from Washington, we should be able to get all the information we want out of the cave in a few weeks."

"My men wouldn't be interested in going to all that trouble for just a few days' pay. I'm sorry Doctor, but you'll have to get somebody else."

Hank was surprised at his response.

"I'll pay them the same as I would if we had to take the longer land route. Is that better?"

"Better...but not good enough. My men know nothing about flying. Some of them are even frightened by these machines. We'd have to be given more money before we'd take such risks. Look around you. These men have wives...children...What happens to them, if a father is injured in this plan of yours?"

"Your concern for the safety of your men is commendable. We can't do our work without their help. Would you feel better if I promise to insure them. My government will see that their families are given money to help them live if anything should happen to one of your men. I really need your help Chief."

"I know you do Henry...and I really want to help. I know my men could use the money. You have no idea how difficult it is looking after them, trying to keep them out of the drug business. I only wish we could get back to living off the land, protected by our marvelous jungle, letting our children grow up in this paradise without the destruction of drugs."

"Then you'll do it? You'll supply me the men I need?"

"Yes Henry...I'll do it. And if you'll let me, I'll come too."

"Of course you can come. I'd be very happy to have you with us."

"I want to see this cave for myself. It must be very important for a country as great as America to send it's best scientists to study it."

"We don't know much more than you. All we have learned so far, is that the cave writing was done about five hundred thousand years ago, and we're going to try to find out what message, if any, was put there by our ancestors."

Arumba extended his hand. "Then we have a deal. When do you need my men."

"You can start selecting them now. I'd suggest you make sure they're strong and courageous. The work's going to be difficult."

"All of my men are strong and courageous. They have to be, to live in Colombia in these times and be able to turn their backs on the rotten drug business."

"I'm sure they are. Have them report to San Fernando sometime in the next week to begin their training."

"Training! What training?"

"We want to be sure they're able to descend by winch, and we'll be clearing some practice sites to get an idea of the amount of time it takes. We've got several other things to teach them as well, including the use of electronic equipment as back up technicians if anything happens to our regular people."

"Then you're really talking about a major project, not just a one week stint."

"Precisely. We won't be heading for the cave until we're sure we're ready. Besides, Doctor Martin is going to require some time to practice flying the helicopter."

"I don't understand. Isn't Verez doing the flying?"

"The Captain is very sick in Bogota."

"I'm sorry to hear that...And this man, the one you call Doctor Martin...Who is he?"

"One of the coding specialists I've brought from Washington."

"The one they call Jess?"

"That's him."

"They say Barbarosa almost killed him."

"That's true...But thanks to the loving tender care of Miss Garvas, Jess is fine again."

"This man is a pilot?"

"Yes...with lots of hours of combat flying in Viet Nam. You'll like him. He's a real nice guy."

"Your request gets stranger by the moment. I'm supposed to provide you with men who are unafraid of flying, to be lowered on a cable in a jungle to clear a landing place for you. You say the pilot is a man who has been in a coma for weeks, who has to learn how to fly this special machine...My God Henry! You ask a lot."

"I know. But I don't ask the impossible."

Arumba turned to Estrelle. "Are all Americans like this?" smiling as he asked the question.

"I only know one American, Doctor Jess Martin. If he says he can do something, he'll do it. That I know for sure."

"Then let us begin. I'll see you in San Fernando in a few days."

The return trip down river was much easier. Hank was pleased Arumba would be coming with his men on the mission. With him along, there would be no problem controlling them.

Estrelle was impressed with the zambo leader.

"He's not what I expected to find."

"Why's that?"

"He's more like the black men I've seen in your American films."

"Arumba is American. He's a graduate of Princeton, and used to be an attorney in Boston."

"Whatever made him leave all that to lead half-breed natives in a jungle?"

"Social conscience I suppose. His father lost his life during the civil rights marches in the fifties. His real name is Arnold Turner. But like Malcolm X, and Mohammed Ali, he changed his name after his social rebirth."

"Why not work for his people in his own country?"

"I guess he has a load of middle class guilt about his privileged way of life, and the only way to resolve it was to immerse himself in a missionary style of living. He really is a revolutionary. Obispo better keep a close watch on this man. If I'm not mistaken, he'll lead this country someday. He's not beyond doing what Castro did in Cuba. Money's all he's been lacking, and the way its rolling in with the drug trade, I'd say Arumba is right on course."

"But he sounds very bitter about the drug trade."

"Don't let him fool you. They all say that, but there's not one who isn't taking money on the side. Do you think Verez could live like he did on a Captain's salary? When one side gets enough money, you just watch. There'll be a revolution in Colombia like you've never seen before."

His mention of revolution gave her the opening she wanted.

"Henry, have you heard anything about the possibility of Russian intervention in our struggle?"

"Yes I have. Gonzalo was telling me a little about it, but I don't think anyone is taking it seriously."

But what would happen if a man with Arumba's intelligence, sided in with the Communists?"

The same thing that has happened wherever they intrude...civil war, followed by the establishment of a state controlled society. But I can't see it happening here."

Why not?"

The country is too vast, and still too underdeveloped. The Reds prefer to take over developed countries which have a solid economic base."

"Not always...what about some of those smaller African nations?"

"True. But I think the Kremlin has to admit, the cost of such ventures has made the overall attempt to establish themselves in Africa an economic debacle. It only pursued the smaller nations, so that it could threaten the larger countries. In a way, that's why they got themselves a foothold in Cuba. They wanted to establish their system in our hemisphere, and be in a position to threaten the U.S. This takes off some of the pressure we could have put on the USSR in Europe."

"So you don't think they're seriously interested in my country?"

"That's what I think."

"Then why is Jess back in San Fernando, studying Russian pilot instructions to fly a very expensive helicopter gunship?"

"I wish I knew."

She wanted to tell him about Obispo's conversation the night of his party but she wasn't sure if the time was right. She appreciated the fact that Hank had not pursued the reason her father was in prison.

The return journey took only an hour. The sun was setting and a cool breeze came off the fast flowing river, moderating the high afternoon temperatures. Even in the extreme heat of the summer, the high elevation at San Fernando de Atabapo gave a cold edge to the evening air.

She and Hank walked up the dirt road to the Granada and were greeted by Stuart as they entered.

"Did you get the men?"

"We sure did, and Arumba too," replied Hank.

"Great...Might be sometime before we need them."

"Oh...What's the problem?"

"Jess and Laura have been working on the manuals all day. She's finding the translation more difficult than she expected."

"I thought she might," said Estrelle.

"Why is that?" asked Hank.

"Languages is my forte, the same as Laura. But the translation of technical jargon is much more difficult than literary translation. I don't envy her the task. I'll go see if I can help."

As she hurried away, Stuart's eyes were riveted on her firm round bottom, straining the safari britches. Hank smiled as he watched the young man enjoying the view.

"Don't even think it."

"Think what?"

"She's Jess' girl. We sure don't need another triangle."

"But he's married."

"What's that got to do with it? She chose him."

"What the hell for?"

"Damned if I know. Laura's crazy about him too. Some guys have it, and guys like us will never know what makes them tick. You want to get your ashes hauled, try one of those young chibcha girls who work in the kitchen."

"I did. She didn't know what to do. I had to teach her everything."

"She was a virgin?"

"Like the mother of God."

"So what are you complaining about?"

"I want a woman who'll teach me for a change. Know what I mean?"

"Every man has that fantasy I guess...But that's enough daydreaming. Let's get back to the real world. You better get on the radio and let Obispo know that Arumba and his men will be joining us."

"You got it," said Stuart. "Oh Hank! If you ever find out where Jess discards his women, promise you'll tell me."

Hank laughed.

"You may have to wait in line."

"Why's that?"

"You'll be behind me."

They both laughed and went their separate ways, Stuart to the radio room, and Hank to report to Jess and Laura.

Read other novels by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

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Trees Hold Up the Sky 14 William James Johnson

2005-04-05T09:57:00.000-04:00

Although gaunt from his long recovery, Estrelle sensed the satisfaction Jess felt finally being able to get back on track. A steady rain pelted the canvas cover of the jeep as they headed for the helicopter base north of San Fernando. The washed out portions of the road tested his reflexes, and he manipulated the gear shift with the smoothness of a rally racer.

"Feels good getting back to work."

"Just don't over do it Jess. No one expects you to do everything at once."

"Back off Estrelle. You're starting to sound like a wife."

"I just don't want you to be hurt again."

Jess patted her on the thigh and smiled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bark at you. Guess I'm still uptight after all those weeks of doing nothing."

"I wouldn't call 'getting well', doing nothing."

"Believe me, most of it's due to your tender care."

"Thanks Jess. You have no idea how thrilled I was when Arturo ordered me to stay with you night and day. I couldn't have been happier."

"I know...especially at night."

His remark took her by surprise.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Try as I could, my eyes wouldn't open, but I felt the pressing and rubbing, and the kisses. The kisses were fantastic. You're a terrific kisser."

"Oh Jess...What can I say?"

"Don't say anything. I enjoyed every bit of it. I'm sure your loving me is what saved me Estrelle. I may have been right out of it most of the time, but I sure felt your positive energy willing me to get well. In case I forgot to tell you, I do love you darling."

She gently touched his face. There were tears in her eyes.

"God, don't start crying. I didn't mean to upset you."

"How would you feel if suddenly, without warning, someone revealed one of your dark secrets?"

"I'd probably cry too."

His answer made them both laugh. There was a tremendous exchange of unspoken emotions going on here. The tenseness normally apparent in Estrelle, drained from her beautiful face, and in its place was the inner joy of knowing he loved her as much as she loved him.

She wanted to ask him about his wife, and his relationship with Laura, but she was afraid it would interfere with the warm feeling flowing through her. As if he could read her mind, Jess volunteered the information.

"You know of course I'm married."

"Hank told me."

"I don't know what you think about it, but I've always felt I can love more than one person at a time. I hope that doesn't disturb you."

"I'm not like that Jess. When I'm in love, there's no question about it. I love that one person, and I don't even notice anyone else."

"That attitude can get you into real trouble."

"In what way?"

"The person you love may move on, and you would be devastated."

She grabbed him by the arm and held on, letting her hand slide down to his hand, and entwine his fingers.

"Then I've just got to make the most of this opportunity. As I told you before, I love you Jess, and I don't insist you return my love. That's how we differ."

"I wish I could be that unselfish."

"You're not selfish...you're like a lot of men, who make the most of the moment. I don't see much wrong with that."

"But I've got a perfectly good wife waiting for me back home. How would you feel, if suddenly she would appear in the back seat, listening to this conversation?"

"My feelings about you are sincere. I think she would understand."

"You've got an answer for every situation. Let me rephrase my question. Let's suppose you're my wife, and I'm away from you having a torrid love affair with a passionate Spanish beauty. How would you feel about that?"

"These are two different worlds, Jess. Up north, you're the respected expert in decoding ancient codes, going daily to your ivy covered university, impressing all those young girls who think you must be terrific in bed because of your worldliness. Your wife accepts that because she can see how it reinforces your male ego, but it's never really a threat to her sense of trust. Down here it's different. This is no longer fantasy land. This is the real world of danger, intrigue and romance. You're caught up in the spirit of the place. If I were your wife, waiting faithfully for you to return, I would welcome any adventure that would add to your life experience. I wouldn't be jealous of these liaisons you might have."

"Bravo...what a crock of shit."

Estrelle was shocked. She dropped his hand, avoiding his gaze. "That's cruel Jess."

"How's this for cruel...Laura and I are lovers too."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I want you to see how tentative love really is. The close call I had at the hands of Barbarosa also has convinced me that life itself is very tentative."

"But you said you love me."

"I do love you Estrelle. I just don't want to deceive you, that's all. I want you to realize that at this moment, there's not another woman I would rather be with than you, and that includes Laura and my wife. Just don't hold me accountable if suddenly I stop loving you. That's all I wanted to say."

"Did you hear what you just said?"

"Of course, I said I love you."

"Not that...You said, 'that includes Laura and my wife'."

"Yes...so what?"

"You mentioned Laura, before your wife."

"Estrelle, please understand. Laura is an extremely passionate woman, who gives freely of herself to those she loves. I consider her one of the most sexually exciting women I have ever met. It's easy to become addicted to sex. Laura has given me more satisfaction than I ever thought possible."

"You can teach me...I'll do whatever you want Jess. Let me be the one who fulfills your every fantasy."

"But you do Estrelle..."

"As well as Laura?"

"Better than Laura. You do whatever you do because you truly love me. Laura does it because she loves doing it. Do you get what I mean?"

"I'm still willing to learn. All you've got to do is ask. I'd do anything for you Jess."

"I know you would sweetie. I'm glad we've had this talk. Looks like we're here."

The chain link compound protecting the helicopters was guarded by a Drug Brigade corporal. Pulling a plastic cape over his head, the soldier stepped into the rain and shouted.

"This is a restricted area, Sir."

"I'm Doctor Martin of the Atabapo Project. I'm going to be flying one of the helicopters, and I need to get some pilot handbooks."

"Have you authorization, Doctor?"

"What authorization?"

"I'll need some documents before I can let you in."

"Hell...that's all we need. A conscientious corporal."

Estrelle undid the flap on her jacket and took out a folded paper, and passed it to the security guard. He read it carefully, and returned it.

"Thank you. That's what I needed. You may come in now."

"So what's the magic letter?"

"General Obispo gave it to me to use whenever necessary."

Her answer was too neat. Jess decided not to pursue it at this time, but he filed it in his computer brain to discuss later with Hank.

In front of a large steel hangar were three medium sized patrol helicopters, probably acquired after the war in Viet Nam. One still had the stretcher carriers on the sides. He parked the jeep outside an office in the front of the hangar, and they hurried inside. Sitting behind a makeshift desk was Verez' officer-in-charge of the flying contingent.

"Buenos dias. I am Lieutenant Tomaso Gonzalvos, at your service."

"How do you do, Lieutenant. I'd like you to meet Miss Estrelle Garvas, and I'm Doctor Jess Martin."

"Oh yes, Doctor. You are with Project Atabapo."

"That's right, and I would like the use of your pilot manuals to get ready for a flight to the cave."

"You are a pilot, Doctor?"

"Yes, I am. Those choppers out front look like the ones I used to fly in Viet Nam."

"I do not wish to pry, Doctor, but where do you expect to land at the cave?"

"I was planning to have a winch installed, and lower zambos to clear a landing pad."

"That is going to be a problem."

"Oh...why's that?"

"These helicopters are not equipped for a winch installation. And if you are going to need more than four zambos, the planes are not large enough."

"Then what would you suggest?"

"Come with me. I'll show you."

They followed him into the hangar. Almost grotesque in the semi-darkness, was a large grey machine with red stars on the side.

"What the hell is this?"

"A gift from our Russian friends, to help us end this terrible drug problem."

"How many can it carry?"

"Twenty passengers and three crew. It is a remarkable machine."

"Top speed?"

"A hundred and eighty knots."

"Endurance?"

"Seven hours with a full load."

"Tremendous...just what the Doctor ordered."

"The Doctor ordered it?"

"Just an expression...Has it got a winch?"

"One on each side. It has everything."

Estrelle was pleased for Jess, but he hadn't asked the most important question.

"Do you think you can fly it, Jess?"

"I don't see why not."

The Lieutenant interrupted.

"It's more difficult than the smaller machines. Captain Verez is very good flying it."

"Well, he's not able to be here. How about you, Lieutenant?"

"I have been co-pilot many times, but never Captain."

"But you know how to use everything? You could take over if something happened to me?"

"May I suggest we get some practice before we leave for the cave," said the Lieutenant.

"Of course. I wouldn't think of leaving this area without spending some time as a crew. Now get me the manuals, and I'll take them back to study."

"They're locked in the office. I'll get them for you."

Returning to the office, he opened a floor safe. Jess saw a stack of Colombian pesos on a shelf above the manuals. Tomaso passed him a large loose leaf manual.

"It's in Russian. I'm sorry."

Jess flipped through the pages.

"Plenty of pictures. This, and some flying time with you, should do it."

"Do you need anything else, Doctor?"

"Not now. I'll get back to you in a few days."

"That is good. By then our rainy season should be over."

Jess shook hands with the young man and he and Estrelle hurried through the drizzle to their jeep. On the way back, she looked through the book.

"Seems awfully complicated."

"With his help, I think I can do it."

"Too bad it's all in Russian."

"An altimeter is an altimeter, no matter what language it's in. What surprises me, is to find a Russian gun ship here in the jungle."

"Like the officer said, it was their contribution to help in the drug war."

"That's some contribtuion. Probably millions. I don't know why Obispo didn't tell us about it."

Estrelle wanted to tell Jess about Obispo's plan to overthrow the government, and her father's involvement, but she decided the time wasn't right. She hardly knew him, and her own emotional involvement with him prejudiced her judgment. She sure didn't want to do or say anything that might jeopardize her father's life.

Hank was surprised to learn about the Russian plane. Verez had never mentioned it. Even Laura had not been told about it.

"And you think you'll be able to fly it?"

"I'll know better in a few days. I've got to absorb some of this information in the manual first."

"I can help you, Jess," said Laura.

"How do you mean?"

"I can read Russian."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"I just did. Languages are my specialty. I can read it, but I'm not very good at speaking it."

He passed her the manual and she turned a few pages.

"This is the Severski 210, Troop Helicopter, designed for rapid deployment of commandos, recommended particularly for anti-terrorist activities, where maximum flexibility is required. Shall I go on?"

"God what a woman. You continue to amaze me."

Estrelle was glad Laura would be able to help him, but she resented having to share him.

"Why don't you two get started," said Hank, "And Estrelle can come with me to see Arumba."

"Tell him, I'd like ten of his best men," said Jess. "Explain what it is I want them to do. And make sure the men he chooses are not afraid of flying."

"Anything else?"

'Tell him that I want to try out the plan in this area, before we go to the cave."

"In what way?"

"I'll take them up in the chopper and find a small piece of jungle, and let them try to clear it. If it doesn't work here, there's no use going south with it."

When Hank and Estrelle left, Laura sat beside Jess, touching him softly on the arm.

"How serious is it Jess?"

"The aircraft...?"

"Not the aircraft silly. This thing between you and her."

"Estrelle is a lovely young woman."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"She says she loves me."

"And you?"

"I think I love her too."

"And...?"

"And what?" asked Jess, irritated by her questions.

"Are you going to do something about it?"

"How the hell do I know. I live each day as it comes. You ought to know that."

"What about us, Jess?"

"What about us?"

"I love you."

"Sure. That's why you went to Bogota with Verez."

"I had to get away."

"Of course...that's what people in love do."

"You don't understand. As long as I stayed here, I kept thinking about you, near death, and I was to blame."

Jess put his arms around her and comforted her.

"Laura...none of this was your fault. We just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. I'm sure if you had been just a plain Jane, Barbarosa wouldn't have even noticed you. But a guy would have to be blind not to want a woman as lovely as you."

"I wish I'd waited, Jess."

"For what?"

"For you to come out of that coma. I wish I'd been the one caring for you night and day."

"You forget my darling, you weren't exactly up to par yourself at that time. I'm glad Arturo took such an interest in you. You have to give him credit. He's the reason you came through all this...How is he by the way?"

"No news yet. He looked terrible the last time I saw him. I'm really worried."

He kissed her on the cheek.

"I wish you still loved me Jess."

"Who said I stopped loving you?"

"But you said you love her."

"I do...but I'll never stop loving you Laura. You brought excitement back into my life. A guy can't just forget that."

"Oh Jess. That's what I wanted to hear. I promise I won't get in the way. Just let me be the one to satisfy your needs, that's all I ask."

A smug grin came over his face. He wondered what it was about him that made these attractive women want to satisfy his so-called needs. Not a bad position to be in for a fellow over forty, who had isolated himself for the past ten years in an academic ivory tower. The real world had definitely changed, and he wanted to be a part of the new age. Maybe Estrelle was right. Maybe Martha would understand what was happening. Or is this what the guys in the faculty lounge referred to as a mid-life crisis?

To read other novels by William James Johnson click on www.noozoon.blogspot.com

Trees Hold Up the Sky 13 William James Johnson

2005-04-04T18:28:00.000-04:00

His decision approved by the two Americans, Estrelle was elated with the Commandante's order to spend all her time caring for Jess, giving her the chance to develop the loving relationship she so desired, while fulfilling Obispo's orders. Like a nun in a leper colony, she devoted all her energy to bringing whatever comfort she could to her helpless patient. Gently caressing his lifeless body with soft cloths drenched in tropical emollients, she protected him from bed sores. Even his personal hygiene, was given meticulous attention, without Estrelle ever complaining, or asking to be relieved, enjoying this secret intimacy. Anyone watching her give him his daily bath would know this was a labour of love.

What she cherished most were the nights, when she could be alone with him without arousing suspicions, to indulge in a bizarre ritual. In the darkness, after bolting the door, she pushed their two beds together. Slowly, by the dim light of the window, she removed all her clothing, the same as she would do if he had been able to watch her, pretending to seduce him with her sensuous dancing, while pleasuring herself with the vibrator she had been given to help Jess maintain muscle tone.

The dance over, she would kneel on her bed, facing him, and begin brushing her long black hair, spreading it over his naked body, the humming vibrator between her thighs, soothing her tensions. Her hair parted naturally on each side of her beautiful native face, as she left her bed, and went to the full length mirror on the closet door. Admiring her taut nakedness, she fondled her warm ivory coloured flesh, caressing her tender body in the most sensitive places. Her perfumed fingers, prepared herself for her phantom lover, lying death-like in the small bed next to hers. The ritual always ended with her rubbing her naked body against his silent groin, until she fell asleep.

Three more weeks passed, and Hank began to lose faith in the curative powers of sleep. Both he and Laura thought they ought to give some consideration to having their friend returned to Bethesda. They delayed their decision, when Joe Frum notified them that Peter had passed away, wasted by the virulent radiation of the cave, the same as Eric.

"So what do you think we should do about Jess?" asked Laura.

"Let's give him another week. If he's still in the coma, we better call Washington, and get a decision from them."

"But you said you wouldn't make a decision about the project until he was well again."

"I know, and that's what bothers me. In a way, I feel like I'm letting him down."

"Still, you've got to do what's best for Jess."

"If you were in my place Laura, what would you do?"

"I think I'd wait a little longer. The rainy season will soon be over. We might as well go back when the weather improves."

"That's the middle of May."

"I know. I'm willing to wait if you are"

"Okay. Mid-May. No longer. I think Jess would understand." Laura remained silent for a few minutes. Hank felt there was something else bothering her. "What's the problem Laura?"

"It's not a problem really. I'd like your opinion on something."

"Okay...Let's have it."

"Arturo wants me to go with him to Bogota this weekend. Apparently one of his children is sick, and Obispo has given him permission to fly back. Would you mind if I went with him?"

"It'd be a shame if Jess came out of his coma, and you were away again."

"I know ...That's what's been holding me back. Just when I think I'm well, I think of that poor man ,lying there, practically dead, and it starts all over again. All because of me."

"Look Laura. I had no business saying that. Please forgive me. You mustn't blame yourself. Jess would've done the same thing if Barbarosa had attacked me. He's that kind of guy. Go to Bogota. Have a good time with Verez. Jess is in good hands with Estrelle."

"So I've noticed. Is it just me, or do you get the feeling too she's fallen in love with him?"

"It's been weeks she's been taking care of him. It's only natural something would develop. It wouldn't be the first time a nurse has fallen for a patient...Why? Does that bother you?"

"It did at first. But then I got involved with Arturo. You've seen what he's like. He wears his heart on his sleeve. He says he's madly in love with me. Wants to divorce his wife and marry me. What do you think I should do?"

"It's as serious as that?"

"It's like Estrelle falling in love with Jess when he's so vulnerable. Arturo picked me up when I was down. He's been terrific Hank. He really has...And he's such an attractive man."

"Seems to me, you've answered your own question."

"In what way?"

"You couldn't have been more vulnerable Laura. A rape victim, in a foreign land, your only associates both injured, unable to help you. Arturo's no fool. He could see how much you needed him, and he's capitalized on it...Damn...I've gone and done it again. Speaking before I think. I should keep my big mouth shut."

"No...Go on. I want your advice."

"My situation has been different than it's been for you and Jess. Maybe it's because I haven't gotten involved with someone down here. I just keep thinking that we'll be going back to the states soon, and all of this will be just a memory. I really don't want to interfere."

"You're not interfering. I want your opinion because you can be objective. I know I can't."

"Let me put it this way then. Obviously whatever you've got going with Arturo, is working. After Barbarosa's attack, I was sure you were scarred for life. Those first few weeks were terrible. I thought I'd lost both you and Jess. But now, the colour is back in your lovely face, and I'm happy for you. Go to Bogota. Do what you feel you want to do. But be very careful."

Laura was delighted with his approval and gave Hank a kiss on the cheek and a friendly hug. "That's what I had to hear...Thank you Hank. I'll be careful. Don't worry. I haven't told Arturo I would marry him." They flew to Caracas by helicopter and caught a Pan American Airline flight to Bogota. That afternoon, Jess regained consciousness.

"Estrelle!"

His voice was firm.

"Oh Jess...At last you're awake."

"What's wrong? Did I oversleep?"

"Yes my darling...Another three weeks of lost memories."

"Three weeks? My God. It feels like we were together just a few hours ago."

"And so much has happened."

"Like what? Tell me everything."

Estrelle sat on the edge of the bed and held his hands. She looked magnificent in her white uniform in the early afternoon light seeping through the shuttered window. A gentle rain falling on the metal awning, added to the intimacy.

"Doctor Laura has gone to Bogota with the Commandante."

"She what?"

"Everyone thinks he's in love with the beautiful lady, but I don't know if she loves him. It's hard to tell with someone like her."

Jess was disappointed. He thought Laura would probably return to him after having a fling with Verez. Now that it was rumoured the Commandante was in love with her, he was certain she would never come back to him. He considered himself very fortunate to have a young woman like Estrelle interested in him. He was unaware of her obsession.

"What about Hank?"

"He's here. His injury is completely better. He talks a lot about moving you back to Washington."

"Why would he say that? We've still got a job to do."

"I think he said that because he and Laura were worried about you being unconscious for so long. They wanted only the best for you."

"You're probably right. Hank and I have a deal. We aren't going to make any decision about the project until I'm well enough to take part in that decision."

"If he gave you his word, I'm sure he'll keep it. He was very upset about the news from the Bethesda Hospital."

"Why? What's happened?"

"The man they sent home, died. He had the same thing as the photographer. It's been terrible for Doctor Henry."

"I'm really sorry to hear that. Hank must be devastated."

"He's been blaming himself for what happened to you and Laura as well. It's not a very happy situation."

"I'll have a good talk with him. There's no reason he should take the blame. Laura and I both knew the risks we would be taking. It's just too bad no one saw how threatening Barbarosa actually was. By the way, what ever happened to the fat man."

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"He was killed by Doctor Marsh."

"What!...Laura killed him!...How? Tell me about it."

"Apparently when you came to her rescue, Barbarosa turned on you, and it gave her a chance to run to Doctor Hank for help. He came with his pistol, and found the beast pounding your head on the floor. That's how you got the fractured skull. He threatened to shoot Jose' if he didn't stop hurting you. Jose' pulled the rug from under him, and poor Doctor Hank smashed his head. Laura grabbed his gun, and emptied it into the rapist."

"My God...What a woman?"

"Apparently she was in a state of shock for several days after that. Arturo...I mean Commandante Verez did whatever he could to help her return to normal."

"I'm glad...for Laura's sake."

"Don't you want to know the rest of the fat man's story?"

"Of course...tell me everything."

"Commandante turned his body over to Arumba, the chief of the zambos of San Fernando. The whole village came out to the celebration. They all hated that beast. He terrorized everyone. He was the man who made Arumba scare off the zambos when they worked for Doctor Hank...Anyway, the end of the celebration came when several men lowered the body of the rapist with ropes, into a large tank of piranhas. It took the fish only a few minutes to clean the bones of all its blubber. It was a fitting end for such an evil man."

"God...what a story."

"It's the truth, every word."

"And that's it. Nothing else happened while I was out."

"The students have all been flown back to Bogota except me."

"Why? I thought Gonzalo wanted them to help us."

"The zambos are ready to work again on the project, if it ever resumes. The students were no longer needed, and they were impatient, waiting here in this small village, never knowing when or if the project would go on."

"But you stayed."

"I wanted to stay because I wanted to help you. Doctor Laura was not of much use for the first few weeks after the attack, and besides, as I told you the last time we spoke, I love you Jess, and I want to be with you."

"Hearing you say that, and seeing your beautiful face makes me feel terrific."

Patting his chest, he continued. "You know something, I'm really hungry. Intravenous feeding is not my idea of a balanced diet."

"That's wonderful news. But you're going to have to start with clear soup. We've got to give your body a chance to get used to regular food. I don't want you to pass out on me again like you did the last time."

"I still find it difficult to believe that last time actually happened. From what I can remember sweetie, you're a fantastic lover. That's all that's been on my mind since I passed out. You sure it wasn't all a dream?"

She kissed him, her tongue gently touching his.

"It was wonderful my love, except for one thing."

"Oh! What was that?"

"You gave me such a terrible shock."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought I'd killed you with my passion. I could barely hear your heart after we climaxed. I have heard about men having cardiac arrests after vigorous lovemaking. I was sure you had expired."

"I'm sorry I frightened you. The next time I'll be more careful."

"There's not going to be a next time, until you're completely well."

"Then don't keep me waiting. Send for that soup, and have them include some of that fresh corn bread."

Hank was delighted to see his friend return to normal. He had to agree with Laura's appraisal of Jess and Estrelle. There was a radiance about the pair that would have been obvious even to a blind man. He was happy for Jess, but down deep he envied this second chance at romance which had so gratuitously come his way.

Laura remained an extra week in the capital. Arturo had taken ill in Bogota, and she stayed with him, until he and Obispo convinced her she should return to San Fernando.

"What's his problem?" asked Jess.

"The doctor thinks it's hepatitis. Lord knows where he would have gotten it. He's quite worried. I met his wife and children. They were wonderful. That's all it took to convince me I should back off and let her care for him. I think Arturo was relieved I didn't make a scene."

"What do you think? Is it hepatitis?"

"I'm not sure Jess. Apparently he has swelling in his lymph nodes as well. I really don't know. Obispo has promised to let us know when the doctors have finished their tests."

"I'm glad you're back Laura. I missed you," said Jess, squeezing her hand.

Laura bent over and kissed him softly on the cheek. "I'm glad you're back too Jess."

"Okay you two...now that everyone is so glad, what are we going to do about Project Atabapo?" asked Hank.

"I'd like to go on with it Hank."

"Oh come on Jess...be real. How can we start out for the cave in your condition?"

"We're not going by boat or jungle trail that's for sure."

"We can't go by boat now that Barbarosa's gone. There's not another skilled captain who can handle those rapids like he could. It looks as though it would all have to be by land, and believe me, that's asking too much of either of you."

"But I've got a better idea Hank."

"Let's hear it."

"Helicopter...we'll fly in some zambos and lower them by winch, and they can clear a landing pad for us. With the camera equipment, we can be in and out of there in a few days."

"But Verez isn't here to fly us."

"We don't need Verez. What the hell do you think I did for eighteen months in Viet Nam. I flew choppers almost every day. I've got over three thousand hours on the beasts."

"It's a great idea Hank," said Laura. "We can get the pictures and do our work back here. We don't even have to set up camp by the cave."

"I hope you'll let me come with you too Jess," asked Estrelle, hurt that no one had suggested she be included.

"Of course you'll come. After all, Gonzalo and Obispo need a representative on board. Any objections Hank?"

"None that I can think of. How soon do you think you'll be ready to fly?"

"Take this cast off my head, and we can go today."

"Now wait a minute...The rainy season is almost over. I suggest we give it one more week, then if you're feeling fit, we'll give it a try."

"Terrific...Now I've got another request," said Jess.

"Let's hear it."

"Me and Estrelle will go to the heliport north of town, and check out the machines. I want to get the pilot's manuals and start doing my homework."

"That seems fair...Why do you need Estrelle?"

"You never know when I might slip into a coma again." For the first time in almost two months, they were all smiling again.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 12 William James Johnson

2005-04-04T12:43:00.000-04:00

The rainy season came early to San Fernando de Atabapo. The racket of water cascading off the corrugated awning was the first sound Jess was aware of since going into a coma three weeks ago. He tried to focus on the slim outline of the young woman moving quietly about his room, silhouetted against the shuttered window. His attempts to speak made his chest burn with excruciating pain. Bound like a mummy to help the healing of several ribs cracked by Barbarosa, he lay rigid, a cast around his head to immobilize his fractured skull.

Pausing at the foot of the bed, she was sure he had tried to speak. She studied the inert form of the injured scientist, surprised as was everyone, that Jess had survived the brutal attack.

"Is that you Laura?"

This time she heard him clearly. Hurrying to his side, she bent over his bandaged face and spoke softly. "It's Estrelle, Doctor Martin."

"Estrelle Garvas?"

"That's right...oh I'm so glad you are finally conscious. We've all been so worried."

"How are the others?"

"Doctor Newton still has a patch on his head, but he's doing fine."

"And Doctor Marsh?"

"That was such a tragic experience for poor Doctor Marsh."

"Is she okay?...Tell me."

"That fat beast cracked one of her ribs when he was on top of her. Other than that, she seems physically all right. It's her mind that troubles us."

"What do you mean? What's wrong with her mind?"

"She still seems to be in a state of shock from that monster's attack, and she's afraid to talk to anyone. Captain Verez has been trying to help her, but it really is sad. She keeps blaming herself for your dreadful injuries."

Hearing the horrible plight of his lover, stimulated his adrenaline, and Jess began to see and hear more clearly. "How long have I been out of it?"

"Today was the end of the third week. We were beginning to doubt you would survive."

"Estrelle, please go and get the others."

"Right away Doctor. Will you be all right alone?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Hank Newton was the first to come to see him. A bandage covered the cut on his forehead where he struck the bureau. He appeared to have lost some weight during the past few weeks.

"Jess...You have no idea how glad I am you've come out of your coma. We've been worried sick."

"It'll be awhile before I can give you a run for your money, but I really think I'm on the mend at last."

"Wonderful...that's great news. I know Joe Frum will be just as delighted as me. He's been contacting Stuart everyday on our radio link. It's been terribly frustrating having to report there's no change in your condition."

"Forget about me. What's happened to Laura?"

"She's been through hell Jess."

"Is she going to make it?"

"Oh I think so...It's you, and this borderline condition you've been in, that I think has hurt her the most. She blames herself for what you went through."

"I don't understand. She had nothing to do with it. It was that fat bastard who damn near killed me. Why would she blame herself?"

"Don't tell her I told you, but the other night, after some heavy drinking, she unloaded her true feelings about all this horrible experience. Laura thinks that if she had given in to Barbarosa, neither of us would have been injured."

"That's a crock. We both know the slob wouldn't have let her go until he had ruined her. It wasn't her fault. She didn't ask to be raped. If anything, Verez ought to have his ass in a sling for not putting a guard on her room. He knew she was scared of the guy."

"Verez is full of remorse himself, particularly after his unsuccessful attempts to get us to abandon the project. Apparently Obispo raised hell with him for not protecting us better."

"Where's Laura now?"

"With the Captain. They've been spending a lot of time together."

Newton had no idea how involved Jess and Laura had become. Even in his weakened condition, Jess regretted hearing this about her. He felt they had something special together, and he didn't want to share her with anyone else.

"I thought you should know, Joe went to see Martha for you. She'll be glad to hear you're finally back in the land of the living."

"Good old Joe...What did he have to say about all this?"

"He's sorry he got you and Laura mixed up in the whole thing. He wants you to come home as soon as you can be safely moved."

"Home! I'm not going home."

"But Jess...You're not strong enough to be trekking through the jungle, taking on whatever might come our way. I think Joe's right. I think we should turn the whole thing over to the Colombians. If they want us to help them analyze the symbols after they've recorded them, we can do it back home, in the safety of our labs."

"Goddamn it Hank...We came down here to do a job, and I don't want to go back until it's finished. Stand by me old buddy."

Hank tried to calm him down with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Why don't we give you more time to get well before we make a final decision?"

"Okay. I can live with that...Now would you please find Laura for me. I really want to see her."

"Of course. You get some sleep. I'll get her here as soon as I can...I'm sure glad you're back with us."

Estrelle returned to his room as Hank left. She sat beside his bed, a book in her hand. The constant rain no longer upset him. In fact, the monotonous sound had a comforting affect on the injured scientist. He tried to sleep, but the picture of Verez and Laura together, making love in the Commandante's luxurious apartment antagonized him. He couldn't blame her if she had decided to have an affair with him. He was sure she wouldn't have done anything if he were still physically able to satisfy her. With the strength of her sex drive, he was surprised she hadn't gone after Hank and Stuart as well.

With his eyes shut, he began to remember that exciting afternoon with Laura, his imagination recreating the picture of her soft buttocks thrust in his face, as he balanced himself on the bath tub, her hand moving vigorously up and down the split, readying it for his thrust. As he daydreamed, he could feel a surging between his legs, and the pressure of the blankets against his groin bore down on his erection. He smiled, happy to feel that it still worked. He opened his eyes to see for himself, embarrassed to discover Estrelle had put down her book, and was focused on his rising mound.

"The power of positive thinking," he said.

"Let me pull back the covers. It'll make it easier for you."

She was right. Without the weight of the blankets, his penis pushed its way through the opening in the pyjama bottoms, revealing itself majestically before Miss Garvas.

"Sorry about that. Sometimes it seems to have a life of its own."

"Do not apologize Doctor. You should be proud God has blessed you so well."

Jess began to laugh. He'd never heard anyone refer to God in talking about an erection. Actually that wasn't true. He had forgotten he'd used the expression, "Thank God", when he was having a go at a young student, in the cramped back seat of her sports car, when the awkward contortions made the development of a significant erection almost impossible, and his silent prayer was answered.

"I must confess Miss Garvas, I'm embarrassed this is happening, when I hardly know you."

"Don't be embarrassed Doctor. For the past three weeks, I have been honoured to be your personal nurse. I have seen more of you than most husbands and wives ever see of each other."

"Then you have me at a disadvantage. I've never seen you, if you know what I mean."

"I wouldn't want you to think I've taken advantage of you," she said smiling.

Estrelle went to the door, and slid the bolts at the top and bottom. "There. Now we won't be bothered."

"But Hank's gone to get Laura. What if they catch us?"

She began to slip out of the white nurse's uniform she was wearing. Her ivory skin against the white underwear was driving Jess crazy. "Doctor Marsh and Arturo have gone up river for the day. He has been trying to get her to be more involved in what he does, to take her mind off her fears. We won't be disturbed."

Her assurance, made his erection pound with anticipation. Watching her lovely breasts jiggle gently as she released them from her bra made him forget the throbbing inside the cast which covered his head. Slowly she pulled down her panties, and he could see small sparkles of moisture catching the light on the black curly hairs that covered her mons.

"Leave the stockings on. It's more provocative that way."

"Whatever you say my darling...You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

She squeezed into the narrow space on the single bed beside him, and began kissing his dry lips. She moistened his mouth with her tongue, her hand playing with his penis, gently rubbing it against her abdomen, making it trace small circles around her navel.

"Why me Estrelle?"

"Because you're sexy. You look at a woman, and she knows you want her. I felt that way at Obispo's dinner, when you stood up and applauded me. I want to make love with you, because I love you."

Jess was shocked by her confession. Laura seldom mentioned love when they were together, and here was this magnificent young woman proclaiming her love. It made it all seem better some how.

"Estrelle...Love is a powerful word. You should take care how you use it."

"I said I love you. I'm not asking you to love me. Just let me do what I can to make you feel better."

She spread her thighs apart, and slid down his legs, below his knees and began to kiss his rigid penis, stroking it up and down, her dark hair cascading over his body. His hips pushed up and down in synchronization with her stroking, grabbing and releasing of his organ with a gentle slapping sound, like a child playing with a new toy. This was better than any medicine they could have given him. He was feeling alive again.

"Turn around Estrelle. Let me give you some pleasure too."

"But your cast. I might hurt you."

"I don't care. I just want to taste your sweetness. Come on. Turn around."

As she moved to accommodate him, he watched her firm breasts moving gently beneath her. She settled comfortably in her new position. He put a hand on each beautiful roundness. The lovely cheeks of her bottom parted, and small drops of creamy liquid drooled on to his chin. Pushing his tongue into the pink folds of her vulva, it searched for her tiny erection. Finding it, he took it between his teeth and applied a gentle pressure to it.

"Oh...oh Jess. That feels marvelous. No one has ever done that to me before. It's a mixture of pain and pleasure. Oh God it burns, and tickles, and vibrates. It's so wonderful. Better than I ever imagined."

She stopped speaking, taking his glans into her mouth, licking its beaded edge, sending darts of pleasure up his spine. She rubbed his bursting organ around her face and touched her ears with it, playing like a kitten with a catnip mouse. His whole body was charged with excitement. His tongue buried deep in her vagina, was developing a painful cramp as it tried to become a secondary penis. She helped him with his oral loving, by bobbing up and down on his sodden mouth.

Prying her cheeks apart, he saw the puckered lips of her anus, tiny beads of sweat forming on the fine hairs. He stuck his finger in her vagina and lubricated it thoroughly with her own juices, then he pried open the tight rear end, inching carefully into her, each movement sending sparks throughout her body.

She took the lead from him, and pushed a finger into his bottom, the initial surge made him thrust upwards and she caught his penis firmly between her lips. The pleasure they were giving each other had to be sinful. They had gone beyond the bounds of ordinary love making.

"I can't wait anymore dearest," said Jess. "I've got to feel it deep inside you."
As she turned towards him, he saw his juices on her mouth and welcomed the taste as she slid her tongue between his lips. Spreading her legs, she lowered herself on his tumescence, working it into her vagina, slowly at first, then more and more vigorously thrusting her body up and down. He could see the rising and falling of her magnificent bottom as she drove him deeper and deeper into her.

"Oh Jess...Oh my darling love. I'm coming my dearest, coming...oh...ah."
He had no idea how long he kept shooting into her. His head got dizzy, and suddenly, he was no longer there. The world had gone the same as it had done for the past few weeks.

"Jess...My God Jess."

Still mounting his lifeless body, Estrelle put her head against his chest and listened to the beating of his heart. It was her turn to express a silent prayer of gratitude. He was still alive. His penis had fallen out of her and lay, uninterested between her thighs. Getting off her patient, she dressed quickly, and rearranged the blankets. Looking back at Jess, she unbolted the door, and opened it. Returning to her chair beside the bed, she picked up her book, and waited for Hank to return with Laura.

She had fallen asleep in her chair by the time they arrived. Laura tapped her gently on the shoulder. She had been sleeping soundly after her furious session with Jess, and Laura's light taps startled her.

"Oh...Doctor Marsh. You're back."

"What's wrong with Jess? He's as still as death."

"I'm not sure what happened, but I think Doctor Martin has had a relapse."

"Relapse!"

"We were talking, and he closed his eyes, and he hasn't opened them since."

"Is he all right?"

"His heart sounds fine, and his blood pressure is all right, but he's unconscious again."

Laura was terribly disappointed. She took his hand in hers and gently called his name.

"Jess...Jess it's Laura. Can you hear me Jess?" No response. She looked at Hank, anguish in her tear drenched eyes. "I should've stayed with him."

"Don't punish yourself Laura. He's going to be fine. He told me himself. It's just a matter of time."

Verez came into the room, and went to Laura and put his arm around her
.
"Come on Laura. Hank is right. It's going to take time."

"But look at him...He's so still. What can I do?"

"No one can do anything for him now. Estrelle will take good care of him. He needs his rest. No visitors Estrelle. You take good care of Doctor Martin. I'll have them bring a bed in here for you. I don't want you leaving him without telling me. Is that understood?"

"Yes Commandante. I will do as you ask."

"I'll have my chef prepare your meals, and Rosarita will bring you fresh clothing. I want my friend Jess to have the best of care. It's not just me. Even Secretary Obispo wants the best for our visitors."

"I understand Captain. I will do whatever you ask."

"Good girl. Your father would be proud of you."

As they left, Estrelle remembered what Obispo had promised her. She and her father would both have their freedom when this job with the Americans was completed. She remembered he had said, "I want you to keep on top of the good Doctor..." She wondered if he had meant that literally. There wasn't much she could do about it now. She looked down at the sleeping patient, and glanced towards the door to check she was really alone. Bending down, she kissed him softly on the lips and whispered.
"I will do whatever it takes my love...I love you so much dearest Jess."

The gentle sound of her voice registered somewhere inside his head. He thought he was dreaming, a very pleasant dream, of a beautiful mestizo girl, her ivory flesh like a fine work of art, crowned with flowing blue black hair, and deep brown eyes, standing beside his bed, proclaiming her love. How could a middle age crock like him ever attract such a splendid jewel?"

Trees Hold Up the Sky 11 William James Johnson

2005-04-04T10:28:00.000-04:00

Newton's report on Peter's condition came as a shock to the others, taking the edge off a memorable evening. Jess and Laura had just met the geologist, and except for some tenseness about Eric's death, he appeared fine. Now there was the alarming news he may die of radiation sickness. For some reason or other, the Commandante actually seemed relieved to hear what happened. Sympathizing with their plight, he proposed they consider resigning from the project, and return to their country before they too were injured.

"There's no reason to give up. Now that we know about the radio activity, we can protect ourselves. It's unfortunate Eric and Peter had no idea of the dangers involved," said Hank.

"What about all those other risks you're going to have to face?"

"What other risks?" asked Laura.

"Life in the jungle is a constant struggle; giant snakes that can squeeze the life out of you, hostile natives with poisoned darts, a host of insects whose bite can kill you, or make you deathly ill, quick sand covered in jungle foliage which can suck you under as fast as I tell you about it. It would take more than the pursuit of knowledge to get me to go into such a dangerous world."

"But you do go into it. In fact you have to face all those risks you have just told us about, and the dangers of confronting drug warlords on their own territory," said Jess.

"But in the Drug Brigade, I'm dealing with the predictable behaviour of my native people. We generally use our helicopters to carry us to the trouble spots so that we can avoid the dangers of the jungle. It's the unpredictability of the natural wildness which is so threatening. You never know when something might happen."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm getting a distinct impression you're trying to scare us off," said Jess.

"If it will spare you the anguish which lies ahead, I will do anything, or say anything, to get you to change your mind. I look at beautiful Doctor Laura and I fear for her safety. The jungle is not like one of your zoos. There are no fences or moats to protect you, while you study nature. This is the real world of the untamed, where the jaguar stalks his prey for days if necessary. It is extremely dangerous my friends. I am not saying these things just to frighten you. I am truly concerned about your safety."

"You don't seem to understand our plan Arturo. We expect to stay only long enough to record the cave symbols. Once we have it all documented, we can return home to do the detailed analysis."

"Just a moment Jess. That's the plan we expected to follow until I got Peter's message. If the symbols in the cave are really a map like he says, we'll probably have to do a more extensive search of the area. Who knows how long that would take."

"A map!" Arturo was surprised by Hank's statement. "A map of what?"

"Peter thinks the cave message was intended to lead us to something else. He thinks it must be very important, or the creatures would not have gone to all that trouble inscribing the walls of the cave."

"I don't understand. Why would these creatures, want to leave a message, and why would they put it in a cave in the first place?" asked Arturo.

"That's the mystery we're going to try to solve. Peter thinks there's something far more important than the cave writing, because who ever put it there, wanted to be sure it would last until it was discovered. The cave was used to protect the message from the ravages of time. With your torrential rains, carvings on the exterior walls of a hill or mountain would probably be long gone. Our labs estimate it was inscribed there, over 500,000 years ago."

"So long ago! How can they be so sure of its age?"

"It's only an estimate. Allowing a ten percent error either way, we're still talking about the oldest communication ever discovered on earth," replied Newton.

"What value could such a message have for us?" asked the Captain.

"No one knows for certain. We hope that if Jess and Laura can decode it, we may learn something about our origins."

"Origins! Doesn't everyone believe life began in the Garden of Eden?"

"Many civilizations believe in some kind of creation story," said Laura. "Some even believe our ancestors may have come from another planet. It's our hope, the cave message may give us a clue to our beginnings."

"But you're taking such risks. You've already lost two of your men. How can you continue like this when there's no guarantee it will be of any value?"

"There's no guarantee in any scientific search. The nature of our profession is to pursue truth wherever it may lead," said Newton.

"What if this project produces evidence there is no God? Are you prepared to accept that possibility as well?" asked Arturo.

"Yes. Even that."

"And you Doctor Laura, do you believe in God?"

"If you mean a Supreme Being who exists somewhere, keeping records on man's moral life, I'd have to say no."

"So as far as you're concerned there's no explanation for the existence of our world?"

"That's not what I said Arturo. I find it very difficult to allow ancient myths to dictate how I will live. This does not mean that I have no beliefs. Only a fool would look at nature and deny how organized it is. If I believe in anything, it is that nature functions within a regulated system. How that system came about, I don't really know. What I do know, is that there are natural laws, and if man expects to survive, he must live in harmony with those laws. Whether or not a supreme being created those laws is beyond me. I'm a scientist, not a theologian."

"But as a scientist, you make pronouncements with the same authority as a theologian," taunted Arturo.

"Not really Captain. Scientists are willing to change if new evidence justifies it. The nature of theology results in beliefs being carved in stone. Scientists bend, but theologians are rigid."

"Then it would seem Doctor Laura, that scientific truth is relative, and theological truth is absolute."

"There is a scientific truth which I believe is absolute."

"And what might that be?"

"I believe that when man breaks the laws of nature, knowingly or in ignorance, he has to pay a great price, even his life in some situations."

"Most interesting Doctor."

"An example of what I mean, is the explosion of the nuclear reactor at Chernobyl. Because of man's mistake, the world will suffer the result of the fallout for generations. No one knows for certain the genetic damage that will occur. What is certain, is that nature is unforgiving."

"Maybe you Americans made a mistake when you led the world into the nuclear age," said Arturo.

"The discovery of nuclear physics was inevitable. The fact that it was linked to the production of a weapon of war was unfortunate," said Newton.

"Still you have to admit Hank, many scientific discoveries are made in the first place, because of their military application. As much as we all despise war, it's probably the single most important activity that motivates man," said Jess.

"Why would you say that Doctor Martin?"

"May I answer that Jess?" asked Laura.

"Go ahead."

"I think it's because military activity is based on man's strongest instinct."

"Which is?"

"Survival... Of all of man's efforts to progress, underlying the total structure, is the need to continue. War is the outward manifestation of man's efforts to survive as a tribe, or a nation against those forces which interrupt his progress."

"I must agree," said Verez. "The political powers of my country order me to fight the drug war, and yet I'm told I must not use too much force," said the Captain.

"The same problem our country experienced in Viet Nam."

Their conversation continued for several hours. Verez was enjoying this exchange. Obviously starving for intellectual debate, he didn't want it to end. It had been a tedious day getting to San Fernando de Atabapo. At the risk of appearing rude, Newton concluded their stimulating discussion.

It was almost two in the morning, before they left his sumptuous quarters and returned to their rooms. Passing the bar, they could still hear the bellowing of Barbarosa, intimidating one and all. The fat man caught a glimpse of Laura as she started up the stairs.

"Ole'... Senorita Marsh." He staggered out to the lobby. "Please Senorita, come and have a drink with Jose'. Please...beautiful lady. It would be a great honour to have a drink with you."

"It's late Jose'," said Hank. "We leave early in the morning. Doctor Marsh is very tired."

"One drink. Just one drink. Please Senorita."

"Thank you Mr. Barbarosa. Some other time. Thank you," said Laura, as she continued up the stairs. The obese Barbarosa drooled into the matted hair of his chest, his shirt front ripped open in one of his forays in the bar.

"Some other time...you say some other time." He lumbered away, disappointed.

Laura hurried to the top of the stairs, and ran with Jess to the safety of her room.

"My God. I can't stand that man."

"I wonder how he can keep going like that," said Jess.

"He's absolutely grotesque."

"You heard what Hank said. He can be real mean. We're just going to have to avoid him that's all. Everyone seems terrified of the guy."

"I don't know if I can sleep knowing he's down there."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" asked Jess.

"Leave the door to the bathroom open so you can hear me if I need you. That should be enough. Good night Jess."

He kissed her gently and went to his room through the adjoining bath.

She dropped her clothes beside the bed, shivering as the cold air from the open window wafted over her naked body. Hurrying to get under the protection of the blankets, she pulled them up over her head. Lying there in the stillness, she could hear the beating of her heart. She pulled the cover off her face and stared at the rustic ceiling, afraid to close her eyes. Outside her window was the humming sound of a tree toad, its low vibrations masking the other distant noises from the surrounding jungle. Tossing and turning, she wanted to sleep, but the picture of the awesome Jose', slobbering over her hand with his purplish liver lips sent chills through her weary body.

As her tenseness subsided, she remembered the exciting afternoon with Jess. Putting her hand between her thighs, she rubbed softly, flicking her pleasure nub with her middle finger, until it was firm. She continued enjoying herself until a warm surge of release flowed throughout her body. Using her own method of tranquilization, which always worked, she turned on her side, tucking her knees under her breasts in a secure foetal position, and fell asleep.

While they slept, Verez went to the small radio room behind the reception desk. He slapped the sleeping operator on the back, and ordered him to contact Obispo in Bogota. Tapping his fingers on the edge of the transmitter, he waited impatiently while the signaller tried to get through the intermittent noise. Suddenly, the clear, authoritarian voice of Obsipo came through the speaker.

"This is Obispo, over."

Verez pushed the operator out of the room and closed the door, taking a seat in front of the radio.

"Mr. Secretary, Captain Verez here. Do you hear me, over?"

"Coming in clear Verez. What do you have to report?"

"I've tried like you suggested Sir, but our visitors insist on continuing with their project. They do not scare easily."

"Even after they heard from their geologist?"

"Even that Sir. In fact their geologist told them he thinks the symbols in the cave are a map, and Newton is saying they will have to make an extensive search of the area."

"We have to stop them some how. You disappoint me Verez."

"Please tell me what you want me to do Mr. Secretary. I will do whatever you say."

"Try again to frighten them. I thought Valenzuela's crash landing would've done that. They must not be given the chance to see how extensive our processing operations are."

"I will do whatever it takes Sir."

"Thank you Verez. If you can succeed in making the Americans give up this project, you can come back to your family. This I promise you."

"I will do my best Sir. You can trust me."

"I know I can. Obispo, over and out."

Verez' hands trembled as he turned down the volume and asked the operator to return to his post. Standing alone, behind the reception desk, he had no idea what to do to get the Americans to give up this project.

The silence of the hotel was broken by the loud laughter of Barbarosa, still going strong. Entering the bar, he caught the fat man's attention, and invited him outside.

"You want to see me Commandante?"

"I have a job for you Jose'."

"Whatever you wish Captain," he said, attempting to salute.

"The lady Doctor..."

"What a beautiful woman. She is a goddess," interrupted Jose'.

"Would you like to hold her in your arms?"

He crossed his heart with his fat finger. "As God is my judge, I would kill to have just a few minutes with that marvelous woman."

"There'll be no killing. Do you understand. You are not to hurt her."

"What is it my Commandante wants of Jose'?"

"Scare her. I want her to think you're going to rape her, but if you harm her, I promise you, I will have my men shoot you. Do I make myself clear?"

"It will be most difficult for Jose' to have that jewel in his arms and not split her up the middle..."

"None of that. You can hold her. Rip off her clothing. Even kiss her. But she's not to be hurt."

"Oh Commandante...you have no idea what a wonderful gift you are giving me. I will always be in your debt."

"Then say after me...I Jose'."

"I Jose'."

"Promise only to frighten Dr. Marsh."

"Promise only to frighten Dr. Marsh."

"Not to hurt her."

"Not to hurt her...I won't hurt the woman Commandante. Now can I go?"

"She's in room 2B, upstairs, in the far corner."

Barbarosa gasped for air as he struggled to lift his three hundred pound plus sack of blubber up the stairs. Staggering along the quiet corridor, his enormous body careened off the walls. His heavy breathing, and grunting as he waddled, sounded like the background of a "B" grade movie.

Pausing outside Laura's room, he waited until he got the pounding in his chest under control. Pressing his greasy head against her door, he listened, then tapped lightly. No response. Turning the knob, he tried to open the door, but it wouldn't move. One hard smash with the palm of his hand and the wooden jamb shattered like match sticks, and he stumbled into her bedroom.

Terror stricken by the crashing sounds of this drunken lout, Laura bolted upright in bed, frantically tugging the blankets to cover her nakedness. Before she could sound the alarm, he suffocated her screams with his grimy hand, and crushed her into the mattress with his massive body. The stark fear in her eyes as he pressed his bloated face against hers started the blood surging in his groin. His drooling tongue traced spittle tracks across her trembling cheeks.

Tearing the blankets from her, he bared her taut body, as she fought for her life in the dim light from the corridor. Her futile squirming under him, rubbing against his pulsing erection, aggravated his desire to plow deeply into her vulnerable cleft. He had already forgotten his promise to Verez. The sound of his zipper as he tried to unleash his weapon, gave Laura a tremendous surge of energy. Forcing her hand free from under her, she grabbed his testicles in a vice like grip, intent on bursting them. The fat man's baleful bellowing awakened Jess, startled by the sounds coming from Laura's room.

Wearing only a pair of jockey shorts he dashed through the bath to her room, where he was stunned by the sight of the sweaty slob, bearing down on his lovely naked Laura, intent on ripping her apart. Her screams shocked him into action. Grabbing the chair beside the desk, he swung it at the head of this beast, with all the strength he could muster, missing its target and glancing across the wide expanse of his back, shattering it into several pieces.

Undeterred, Jose' pressed on with his rape, ignoring Jess' futile efforts. From under his enormous gut, jutted forth an organ as massive as the rest of the ponderous beast, darting back and forth at the smooth limbs of his struggling victim, intent on burying itself deep inside her. Jess swung again with the leg of the chair, catching Jose' squarely on the temple. This got the fat man's attention. Releasing Laura, he came for Jess, who took a powerful swing which sunk into Jose's enormous belly. Grabbing him in his mighty arms, Jose' began to give him a deadly bear hug, designed to unhinge all his internal organs.

A blanket barely covering her, Laura charged past the struggling men, and banged on Hank's door down the hall. Without needing any explanation, Hank ran ahead of her back to the struggle, his pistol in his hand. Jose' was kneeling over Jess, pounding his head on the floor.

"Stop it Jose', or I'll shoot."

The fat man grabbed the rug, and pulled it out from under Hank, sending him and his weapon into the air, crashing his skull on the corner of a bureau. Laura dropped her blanket and grabbed the gun. Standing naked in the doorway of her room, she emptied the six shots into the trembling corpulence of her attacker. He bled just like any other man. Both her partners lay unconscious on the floor. She hardly noticed the comforting arms of Verez on her naked shoulders as he led her back to her bed, where she sat in all her vulnerability, her head buried in her hands and cried.

Trees Hold Up the Sky 10 William James Johnson

2005-04-03T15:13:00.000-04:00

His sonorous voice merging with the blast of the boat whistle, Skipper Jose' Barbarosa guided the Orinoco Queen alongside the wharf at the end of the village street, shouting orders at his zambo deck hands. Doors in the small shops on each side of the Hotel Granada, swung open at his signal, and curious natives ran towards the boat, eager to share in the excitement of its arrival. Isolated from the outside world, the river was their only link with civilization.

Laura and Jess were pleasantly surprised to see a two story sparkling white building with a wide veranda surrounding its ground floor, reminiscent of the ante-bellum inns along the Mississippi. Stepping ashore, they saw coming towards them from the hotel, a smallish army officer, resplendent in his tropical white riding outfit, accompanied by two aides.

"That's Verez." said Stuart. "Commandant of the Army's Drug Brigade and manager of the hotel."

"Arturo! How nice of you to meet us like this," said Hank, extending his hand.

"Secretary Obispo commanded me to greet you on your arrival. His order was unnecessary when he told me you would have a woman as beautiful as Senorita Marsh with you. Welcome to San Fernando de Atabapo," said the officer, extending his hand to Laura, who offered hers in return. Gently touching the back of her hand with his lips, he was careful not to exploit this opportunity.

"Thank you. We didn't expect such a welcome," said Laura.

"I had no choice. When Secretary Obispo told me how attractive you were, I had to see for myself. His description does you no justice. You are indeed very beautiful Dr. Marsh. I trust you are not offended by my praise."

"Not at all Captain. A woman likes to be appreciated. But I must admit, you're not seeing me at my best. The wind and sun on the river were very exhausting. I can't wait to bathe and get into some fresh clothes."

"You're rooms are ready. If I may be so presumptuous, I would suggest you have a siesta, and this evening I would be honoured if you all would join me for dinner."

"Do I detect a slight southern accent in your voice?" asked Jess.

"You're very perceptive Dr. Martin. I took my army training at Virginia Military College. My father was a professor of history at that highly regarded institution."

"Jess and Laura are language specialists," explained Hank.

"They are the ones who will try to find the meaning of the cave symbols, is that not so?" asked Verez.

"That's right Captain," said Jess. "And the sooner we can get at it, the sooner we'll know what our ancient ancestors had in mind."

"I trust tomorrow will be soon enough to begin," he said smiling. "Give me these few short hours to welcome you properly in my village. Very seldom do we have the privilege of such distinguished visitors."

"Tomorrow will be soon enough. What I need right now, is a siesta like you suggest."

Dazzled by her natural beauty, Captain Verez could not take his eyes off Laura. He made no attempt to be discrete, as his gaze roamed uncontrollably over her pliant body, stopping to examine at great length each and every wonder on his sensuous voyage of discovery. She was beginning to feel intimidated by this handsome mestizo, with the piercing dark brown eyes. Jess felt a slight twinge of jealousy as he watched Verez visually assault his companion. Subtly touching his arm, Hank restrained him from taking any regrettable action. A bulge forming in the crotch of his form fitting riding britches was an embarrassment for all except the strutting bantam Commandante.

Arriving in the hotel lobby, Verez gave instructions to his aides, and rejoined the Americans, obviously relishing his role as lord of the manor. As he spoke, they saw the mammoth Barbarosa waddling into the bar, his arms around two zambos. Releasing his companions, he stretched his arms towards the bartender and shouted in a loud voice, "Beer for Captain Jose Barbarosa and his friends. And hurry. We are dying of thirst," followed by a raucous laugh, and the sound of flesh against wood as he slammed his beefy hand on the bar.

"Your rooms are upstairs in the rear. I thought you would prefer a quiet area, away from the noise of the bar. Sometimes it can get rather rowdy. When Jose is here, anything can happen. Be assured you will not be disturbed. You can hear nothing from your back rooms. If there's anything you need, just call the office."

"Thank you Arturo. I shall tell Mr. Obispo how well you looked after us," said Hank.

"It is with great pleasure I wish to serve you. Until dinner. Adios."

Ascending the stairs, Jess saw the fat man in the bar with his arm around the zambo, holding his head as he poured beer over the victim's tight curls, laughing wildly at the man's dilemma.

"Look at that fat bastard," said Jess. "I'll feel a lot better when I know he's left."

"Sometimes I'm sure I can hear splashing when he moves," said Hank. "The guy's a walking beer barrel. He can be damn mean, given half a chance."

"Why do they let him start drinking if he's so wild?" asked Laura.

"Who's going to stop him?"

They walked along the perimeter corridor on the second floor to their rooms at the rear of the hotel. Not until they checked the bathroom doors, did they realize they had been given adjoining rooms, with a shared bath.

"How handy. Do you think Verez is trying to tell us something?" asked Jess.

"I'm glad you're going to be close by," said Laura. "He might be small, but I don't trust el Commandante. Not with those bedroom eyes."

"Not exactly subtle was he?"

"I wish you would help me tonight Jess."

"Sure. What do you want me to do?"

"Pay attention to me. Make sure Verez has no doubt we care for each other. It might make him back off."

"In the words of the Commandant himself, 'It is with great pleasure I wish to serve you.'"

Laura put her arms around him and held him closely.

"If I weren't so tired, I could go for a little service right now."

"Keep that thought. I'll remind you about it tonight. Now who's going to use the tub first?"

"You go ahead. I want to get out of these things and get some rest. I'll use it when I wake up."

Jess kissed her. Holding her at arm's length, he studied her lovely face.

"Something strange is happening Laura."

"What do you mean?"

"Standing here with you, I've just had a flashback. Sort of deja vu. We haven't done this before have we, you know, in an earlier life?"

"I have no idea what you're trying to say. We've been going at a pretty hectic pace since we left Washington. What we both need now, is a good rest."

"I guess you're right. That trip took a lot out of me... Now I remember what it was...Standing here... alone with you, reminded me of my teenage days. That's what you do to me Laura. You make me feel young again."

"Have a nice sleep darling."

He kissed her and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You too sweetie."

She closed the door to her room and Jess turned on the water in the tub. The pipes banged several times followed by a dense orangey liquid splashing off the bottom. Disappointed, he sat on the edge taking off his clothes while he waited for the water to clear. Rinsing the residue down the drain, he finished undressing, while the steaming water filled the tub. Bending over to test the temperature, he was suddenly shocked to feel a hand grabbing his testicles from behind.

"What the hell!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," said Laura.

"It's not every day a guy has someone grab his balls like that."

She stood naked in the narrow space between the sink and the tub. Her sensuous body, exuded a soft yielding, femininity. The well trimmed curly black triangle of her mons left no doubt this woman took pride in her sexuality. This was the first time Jess had seen her unclothed.

"I guess I wasn't as tired as I thought," said Laura, teasing.

"Now that you're here, you can wash my back."

"It's not your back I'm interested in."

Her remark went directly to his libido centre and he could feel the blood begin to surge in his groin, making it throb in anticipation. Laura smiled as she gently caressed his erection, stroking it carefully, letting the dark helmet stretch with each thrust. She let the underside of her tongue titillate the tiny sensory endings that formed a necklace at the base of the glans, each caress making the nerves rigid as diamond shards.

"You look good enough to eat."

"You sure know the right things to say."

With that, she knelt between his legs as he supported himself on the edge of the tub, his organ thrust firmly upward. She continued to lick it tenderly, her warm breath sending shivers up his naked spine. Watching her delicate lips caress the pulsing organ, Jess was certain it would burst into a thousand pieces. Her mouth opened wide, consuming him, taking it all into the deep hole at the back of her throat. Her breasts rested against his knees, tamping gently up and down with each movement of her head. Suddenly her rhythmic pumping went out of control, jacking up and down so rapidly, he felt for a moment he had lost consciousness. All his energy was focused on that moist cavity deep inside this woman's magnificent face, gorging herself on his rigid penis. Suddenly he could take no more. The end of his organ now had a life of its own, exploding into her mouth, spasms shaking his entire body.

"Christ woman...I'll have a heart attack you keep this up."

"Was it good my darling?"

"Need you ask? Can't you see how I'm shaking. My God, I had no idea sex could be this good. I've never gone off so completely in my whole life. It was fantastic. You're fantastic, you goddamn sex machine. If I'm going to die, this is the way I want to go."

"You're not going to die. I have so much more I want to do with you."

"Be my guest. As you can see, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

As he spoke, she continued toying with his penis, licking the end, and placing it between her wonderful breasts, pressing them together to make them feel like a firm vagina. Jess didn't know where it came from, but somewhere deep in his bowels surged the blood to make him as rigid as steel again.

"See. You thought you were through. When you're with me love, you're through when I say you're through."

"You're part witch, you know that," said Jess, thrilled with the spell she was weaving.

"Now I want you to do something for me darling."

"Anything. Name it. I'll do anything."

"I want you to probe my rear end, until I can feel that beautiful erection way up inside me."

"Oh come on Laura, I've never done anything like that before."

"So there's a first time for everything. Please Jess. I really want to feel it stretching me until I rip apart."

"This is crazy, you know that. I might hurt you."

"I've had it that way before my darling. It's you who might be hurt. You better soap it well. I'm awfully tight back there. That's why I want you to do it. I want to feel you are violating me. I want you to rape me Jess. Shove it in until I can't stand it anymore."

"My God, your really weird. I don't know if I can do it."

Turning away from him, she bent over, gripping the seat of the toilet. He saw her hand reach between her legs, with a bar of soap moving vigorously up and down the pink crevasse, getting it ready for him. No man could've refused her request after watching her push her own finger into the light brown opening, forcing the lips to draw it in, as she skilfully tightened and released the sphincter.

"Please Jess...Don't make me beg. Shove it in darling. All the way. Hurt me Jess. I love the hurt."

He couldn't stand it any longer. Sudsing his throbbing organ he guided the end of it to the tiny tight lips that waited to kiss it. Laura pushed backwards against him, making him stab her in that vital opening, forcing it deep into her secret love channel. She trembled all over as he inched further and further into her tender body, a mixture of pain, and intense pleasure as it disappeared into her round softness. She continued pressing in and out, moaning with delight as he impaled her, his penis getting harder and stronger with every surge. He knew now why she had brought him to orgasm before. It prepared him to have more control in this onslaught. Looking at the flexing of her muscular buttocks, and hearing the moans of delight made him feel dizzy. This marvelous woman had the power to make him a love addict, and he was a willing victim.

"Oh...Ooh, Ah. Wonderful. Just wonderful Jess. All the way. I want it all...Oh God. You're bigger than I thought. It almost feels like I might never be able to get it out. Wouldn't that be fantastic. Dying together, fused like this. Me mounted on your delicious cock."

"I can't hold out any longer darling. Oh! I'm coming Laura."

"Me too dearest. Reach around and rub me between the legs. You know where. With your middle finger, move my clitoris from side to side...Oh Jess! Jess...Oh God...God. I'm coming. Right from my finger tips, down to my toes. Oh my sweet lover. The pain is gone, just the pleasure is left. You wonderful, wonderful man. It was out of this world."

He sat back on the edge of the tub, his organ still stuck in her round behind, his hands caressing her breasts.

"You're the best Jess. Really the best. My God, you know I can still feel my rear twitching."

"So can I. You're unreal Laura. Even in my wildest fantasies I could never have imagined how tremendous I feel."

As she stood up, his limp penis practically fell out of her, a bright red wrinkled appendage.

"Oh you poor little thing," said Laura, kissing it, and stroking it softly.

"Give it a rest. I couldn't get it to stand up now, to save my life."

"I know if I give it mouth to mouth, I'll have it like new in just a couple of minutes."

"What do you mean mouth to mouth?"

"Look closely at the end of it. See that precious little mouth. Surely you've seen those tiny lips before."

"Can't say that I ever gave it much notice."

She put her mouth between his legs and let her tongue search out the miniature lips, but Jess pushed her gently away.

"Please Laura. Enough is enough. If you want to do something for me, you can wash my back. Will you settle for that?"

"Of course my love. It's the least I can do for a man who has given me such a good ride. It really was something wasn't it Jess?"

"It sure was."

After their bath, they each went to their own rooms. Laura fell asleep instantly. Jess could not get his mind off what had happened. He wasn't sure it had not all been a dream. The tenderness between his legs was proof enough. Completely drained by her voraciousness, he finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was after seven in the evening when he awoke and joined the other men in the lobby. Captain Verez was wearing his dress uniform, with the gold epaulettes, and patent leather shoes, right out of the pages of the Manual of Military Dress, an outfit usually reserved for state dinners.

Fashionably late, Laura paused at the top of the stairs, and smiled before descending. Radiant in a dark blue mini-cocktail dress, that revealed her athletic limbs, she moved slowly down the stairs like a fashion model, giving them ample opportunity to take in her sensuous, cat-like rhythms.

"Dr. Marsh is truly a splendid woman," said the Captain.

"She's that for sure," agreed Jess.

"It's hard to imagine that anyone who can look like that is also a brilliant scientist," said Hank.

Her magic was working on all the men. Approaching them, she chuckled quietly.

"The way my ears are burning, I would guess someone must be talking about me."

"We were all singing your praises. You look magnificent," said the Captain.

"You look splendid yourself Captain," said Laura, her companions responding with smiles.

"The Captain is right Laura. There's a glow about you this evening."

"That's so nice Henry. Thank you. I had a very good rest."

Jess turned his head to conceal his smile. He wondered what they would have thought if they knew what she was really like. Laura was every man's fantasy. Jess considered himself fortunate to be the person she had chosen to be her sex partner. He felt no guilt about their relationship as long as she kept it primarily physical. He was glad she didn't vow undying love in the throes of their passion.

Verez snapped his fingers and one of his aides approached immediately with a tray of cocktails, and began serving the guests.

"My friends, if I may, I wish to propose a toast," said the Captain, raising his glass. "To the success of Project Atabapo, and the safe return of all of you to your country."

Touching their glasses, they accepted his toast and Hank made a counter toast.

"To all of our friends in this magnificent land. May our friendship and co-operation never end."

"Bravo Henry. On behalf of my government I accept your warm expression of friendship."

Shouts from the bar, followed by a zambo being hurled onto the veranda interrupted their cordiality. The hollow sounds of Barbarosa demanding more beer, sent a shudder through Laura.

"The big man is still at it," said Arturo. "Sometimes he goes like that all night."

"Can't you stop him?" asked Jess.

"Maybe with a bullet. But I'm not sure that would bring him down. He is a wild bull. But do not worry my friends. We do not have to listen to Jose'. Supper will be served in my private suite. Come. Let us go."

Following the Captain down a wide corridor, along the front of the hotel, they entered a double door, into a palatial suite of rooms. Arturo offered a reason for such luxury. "At one time, San Fernando de Atabapo was going to be the seat of government for this region, but the difficulty of constructing roads, made the Venezuelans abandon the project. That was after much of this splendid work had been completed. The gold inlay in the ceilings and archways was done by artists brought from Spain. Many of them lived here for many months, doing the tedious carvings you see in the mouldings."

"It's magnificent Arturo," said Laura.

Her use of his first name thrilled the young Commandant.

"I told you it was at least a four star hotel," said Hank.

Jess was astounded by the opulence of the suite. You live like royalty."

"And why not. The military is the royalty of Colombia. As you Americans would say, it comes with the territory."

Opening French doors, Arturo led them into his private dining room, lit with candelabrum. The rosewood table was covered with brocaded lace, set with exquisite china and sterling silver.

"Please Dr. Laura, sit here on my right. And Henry, you will be on my left. Dr. Martin will sit beside the lady."

As they sat, they were taken aback by Laura's impertinence.

"Is there not a Mrs. Verez?"

"Yes there is. Back in Bogota. Unfortunately I must spend much of my time away from my family."

"You have children then?" she continued.

"Yes indeed. Twin daughters. They are now in school. Carmelita and Conchita. Six years old."

"How long will this tour of duty in San Fernando last?" asked Jess.

"Until the job is finished," said Verez.

"Are you making any headway?" Jess continued.

"Before I answer, may I ask you a question first?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Is this your first experience with Colombians?"

"Yes it is."

"Then you probably do not realize how poor my people are."

"We saw some small houses coming from the airport. Some seemed quite poor," said Jess.

"That is nothing compared with the poverty of the poor farmer trying to eke out a living in the mountains. This is all changing because of the people of your country."

"I don't understand."

"So many Americans make so much money, they are searching for new adventures in their life. Then they discover cocaine and before they realize it, the drug has captured them. They have no idea how their new master alters the lives of poor mountain farmers in South America. For the first time in their lives, these poor people can afford to feed their families. Anyone, and everyone connected with the growing of coca leaves is involved in this revolution. As Secretary Obispo says himself, we close down one, and five more spring up to take its place. That was a long way to answer your question, but that is the situation. We really are not making much progress, I'm sorry to say."

"If you can't stop them, what good is it having a Drug Brigade?" asked Jess.

"One of our main jobs is to stop our people from killing each other."

"Wouldn't it be better if you didn't interfere, and let them fight it out amongst themselves, and bring their numbers down to a manageable size?" asked Laura.

"There's really only one way to end it all," said Verez.

"What's that?"

"The users must stop using it. When there is no longer a market, it will be over."
As they spoke, their dinner was being served by uniformed army stewards. The first course was a clear puree, meticulously blended with the delicate flavour of saffron. Poached salmon, coated in diced roasted brazil nuts, came with a side serving of lemon butter to refresh the palate.

"I have chosen a native dish of smoked iguana for the main entree. Maybe I should have let you taste it before I told you about it."

"I've never eaten iguana," said Laura. "Although I enjoy eating exotic things."

Her remark almost made Jess choke.

"Then you will love this. It is tender like the finest chicken. My chef marinates it in well-aged brandy. Costa will flambe' it for us."

"You are a man of superb taste Captain," said Laura.

"Please...I am honoured when you call me Arturo."

Jess felt the twinge of jealousy he had experienced when Arturo first showed his interest in Laura. At his age, he didn't want to have to compete with this handsome latino for the loving charms of his companion, not after the wonderful experience they had together that afternoon.

Their dinner was interrupted when one of Arturo's aides entered and asked to speak to Verez. Excusing himself, he went to the living room and returned a few minutes later.

"Please forgive this interruption. Apparently there is an emergency call from Bogota for you Dr. Newton. My aide will take you to our radio room."

"Do you want me to come too Hank?" asked Jess.

"No, no. You and Laura stay with Arturo and finish your supper. I don't expect to be very long."

Hank followed the aide back to the lobby and entered a small room behind the registration desk. Stuart and an army signaller were sitting in front of an old military installation.

"What's up Stu?"

"It's Peter. Sounds serious. Give me a couple of minutes and you can talk to him yourself."

Stu checked the receiver calibration and called the Bogota operator. "Drug Brigade Bogota, this is Atabapo Radio. Do you read over?"

"Atabapo, DBB, five by five over."

"We have Dr. Newton present. Are you ready with your transmission?"

"Roger Atabapo."

Background teletype transmissions faded in and out, as Hank waited.

"Hank, is that you? Over."

"Affirmative. Go ahead Peter."

"I wish you were here so I could tell you what's happened."

"I'm listening Peter. What's the problem?"

"They want to fly me to Bethesda. The doctor here says I've got the same thing as Eric."

"That's terrible news Peter. If that's what your doctor says, you better get to Dr. Khan as soon as possible. He still might be able to help you."

"Before I go Hank, I just had to tell you something you must pass on to Jess and Laura."

"What's that?"

"About the symbols in the cave, I feel like Eric. I'm sure it's some kind of map. I think that the triangle with white at the top is actually a mountain, Ahuntipec, about a hundred miles south of the cave."

"How can you be sure?"

"The pattern of rivers and dense jungle in the symbols coincide perfectly with the real thing. Eric and I checked it against some of the maps left by the Corps of Engineers when they did their Orinoco Expedition. Please Hank believe me. The cave is just the start. There's something out there which is more important than just ancient symbols."

"Thank you Peter for letting me know. I'm sure they'll both be glad to get your message, over."

"What a relief Hank. I couldn't go back to the states without getting this off my chest."

"I'll look after this end. You take real good care of yourself."

"I will Hank. Good luck. Over and out."

Trees Hold Up the Sky 9 William James Johnson

2005-04-03T11:29:00.000-04:00

Carlos Santander moved quickly through the aircraft alerting his passengers to prepare for the arrival at San Fernando. Jess gently shook Laura.

"Better wake up sleeping beauty. Time to return to the real world."

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "So soon?"

"We both slept right through lunch. I guess this bucket of bolts wasn't so bad after all."

Her face was flushed where she had rested against Jess. Opening her carry-on bag, she looked into a small mirror and toyed with her hair. For a moment she was more woman than scientist. Jess smiled at her attempts to make herself presentable.

"Why bother? This place is hardly a town. Who's going to notice you anyway?"

"Never can tell. There might be some rich Colombian looking for a gringo wench with a bit of class."

Requesting they fasten their seat belts, the Captain warned them there would be a strong cross wind on landing. San Fernando was in the eastern highlands, about 9000 feet above sea level. At this time of the year, there were often unpredictable gales.

Racing below them, were the sparkling white waters of the Aturus Rapids, plunging 58 feet in just five miles of the mighty Orinoco. Checking the small map he was carrying, Jess realized for the first time San Fernando de Atabapo was on the Venezuelan side of the river.

"I thought our base was in Colombia."

"Isn't it?" asked Laura, puzzled by his remark.

"Not according to this map."

"Can I see it?"

"Help yourself."

While studying the map, Laura felt the plane jerking to the port side, descending into the heavy gusts. The only option available to the Captain was a north-south runway, cut between giant trees, standing in a jungle swamp. Desperately fighting to keep it under control in the tremendous cross wind, Valenzuela knew if he over-corrected, they would end up wrapped around the huge trees which smothered the small airstrip. Laura dropped the map and grabbed the armrests with all her strength as the plane bounced uncontrollably in the turbulence. Then came that moment of terror, when the huge machine is no longer supported by air. As sudden as a cardiac arrest, the plane dropped out of the sky and smashed the ground like a free-falling elevator.

A loud explosion and high pitched screeching of metal against rock, terrified the passengers, wrenched cruelly by the plane's spastic careening off the gravel, swinging madly towards the heavy brush. For several anxious seconds the old war-horse twisted and groaned until it skidded to a stop, angled sharply starboard, its wing touching the swampy grass.

"Holy God. What the hell happened?" asked Jess, looking back at Hank Newton.

The voice of Captain Valenzuela came over the speaker.

"Please forgive me Senors and Senoritas. We blew our starboard tire when we landed and the rest you already know. I ask you to remain in your seats until we can check our situation. Gracias."

"Blew a tire?"

"That's what the man said," replied Jess.

"Not so surprising when you get a look at the condition of that runway," said Hank. There were several large rocks covering the surface of the poorly maintained airstrip.

"We're lucky we didn't lose more than a tire. I'm surprised they let aircraft land on such a poor surface."

"If you've had a look at your map, you'll see that we're a long way from any civilization. The landing strip probably hasn't been used in years. It's left to the pilot's discretion."

Tightening her seat belt to avoid falling against Jess, Laura watched the Captain and co-pilot stagger along the steeply tilted cargo compartment, followed by Carlos. The rear door had been twisted in the contortions of the machine before it stopped, and it took the steward several wacks with a hammer to pry it open. He extended the metal steps and the Captain went outside to check the damage. The complete starboard undercarriage was missing, and the end of the wing had a massive tear. Other than that, it was a good seat of the pants landing, considered by bush pilots to be any landing you could walk away from.

"Okay folks. Let's go," said Hank.

"Can I ask you a question Hank."

"Of course. What's the problem?"

"I thought you said San Fernando was our base camp."

"It is."

"But this isn't Colombia."

"That's right. It's Venezuela."

"Then why are Gonzalo and Obispo involved? This isn't even their country."

"The cave is on the other side of the river, in Colombia. San Fernando is the closest civilization we could find within reason."

"How far is the cave from here?" asked Laura.

"Sixty miles up river. Just on the edge of the rain forest."

"Beyond those rapids I saw coming in?"

"Yes. Getting past those rapids will be the toughest part of our trek inland. We have to cut a path through the undergrowth because we can't use the river. You saw how turbulent it is."

Following the students out of the wreck, they helped carry the supplies back to the runway, across a shallow marsh. Each uncertain step in the mucky bottom, exuded the pungent odour of decaying vegetation. Brightly coloured lizards and snakes darted for cover as the water was stirred up. It took over an hour to carry and stack everything on the dusty gravel strip. None of the equipment appeared to be damaged in the landing.

Gales of dust obscured the row of low buildings in the distance, churned up by a jeep and two trucks heading towards them. Like the plane, these also were vintage transportation, left in the area by the U.S. Army when the Corps of Engineers did an extensive survey of the Orinoco in 1944. A young, red headed technician skidded the jeep in the loose gravel before coming to a stop, and rushed over to them.

"Welcome back Hank. Sorry to be late. The boat had trouble getting out of the current. From the looks of things, I'm glad I wasn't here to see that landing. That's going to take some time to fix. Are you folks okay?"

"Thanks Stuart. We're fine. Just a little shaken up that's all. We blew a tire on landing."

"With the condition of that strip, I'm surprised you didn't end up back in the trees."

"Looks to me like Valenzuela locked on the brakes after he felt the right tire blow," said Jess.

"Sounds like you're a pilot."

"Helicopters. Viet Nam. I'm Jess Martin. How are you Stuart?"

"These are our two new members Stu. Jess and Laura. They'll be working on the decoding."

"Hope you weren't expecting Shangri-la," said Stuart MacGregor, a young electronics specialist from Glasgow, who had been working with Newton for three years. Well-liked by everyone, his wry sense of humour took the edge off jungle living. He and Eric had been the best of friends.

"Stu is our communications expert. He's going to keep us in touch with your people back in Washington."

"We were all shocked to hear about Eric. Damn shame. I'm really going to miss him."

"We're all going to miss Eric. He was a helluva guy."

"When the film kept getting ruined, he didn't quit. It's too bad no one thought about radiation."

"There was no way of knowing. Dr. Ama Khan has sent us some special gear to use in the cave. Hopefully no one else will have to go through what he did."

"Is Peter with you?"

"I left him in Bogota. He has a miserable case of dysentery. I had him check into a hospital. Gonzalo promised to keep an eye on him."

"I sure hope it's not radiation poisoning like Eric."

"I don't see how it could be. Peter spent more time in the surrounding area than in the cave. I think it was more likely insect bites which got to him. That, and the possibility he may have gotten some contaminated water. Gonzalo said he'd get him to us as soon as he feels better."

"Well let's get this stuff on the trucks. This time of year you never can tell when there might be a sudden downpour." Stuart paused for a moment and studied the bright faces of the mestizo who were joining their party.

"Who are all these young folks?"

"Gonzalo's idea. Without the zambos, we had to get help somewhere to carry all that new equipment to the cave. They're his special students. We met them the other night. I'm sure you're going to like them."

"There's one I like already, and I don't even know her name."

"Which one is that Stu? asked Jess.

"That beauty over there," he said, pointing at Estrelle. "You've got good taste that's for sure. She's Estrelle Garvas."

"This could be my lucky day." He called everyone to come to the jeep, and gave them instructions. "Let's get everything on the trucks. Put the equipment on one truck, and the people on the other. When you're finished, the trucks will take you over there, by those buildings. Then the hard work begins. The road ends there, and you're going to have to carry the equipment through the trees to the village beside the river. Are there any questions?"

There were none.

"Good. Let's get to work."

When they were finished loading, Stu started the jeep and signalled to the others to follow in the trucks. Surrounding the airstrip, was an unending swamp. The road into the tiny village of San Fernando had been raised out of the floor of the bog. It had been built by the Corps of Engineers when they linked their makeshift runway with the small village. Many of the houses stood on stilts above the stagnant water, and were joined by rickety board walks suspended on the trunks of trees jutting out of the green slime. The road began at the runway, and ended at the first of the boardwalks. Native women in threadbare dresses stood in the doorways of their makeshift cabins, holding naked children, curiously watching the arrival of these outsiders.

"I told you it would be primitive," said Hank.

"But this is more than primitive. This is hardly marginal. So where do we live?" asked Laura.

"In town."

"You mean this isn't San Fernando de Atabapo?"

"This is San Fernando. There are about eight San Fernando's in this part of the country. We have to transfer to one of the small steamers at the other end of the village. Our base is about a three hour trip on the Orinoco."

"It's not as bad as this I hope," said Jess.

"Hell no. You'll be staying at Hotel Granada. It's at least a four star hotel," said Hank, smiling.

"Really?" asked Laura.

"Don't let him tease you," said Stu. "The Granada is the only hotel in town. It's not bad. Considering."

"Considering what?" asked Jess.

"That it's run by the military."

"What are they doing running a hotel?"

"They needed a place for their jungle contingent. You know what it's like with the Army. They grabbed the best there is."

"Why are they here in the first place?" asked Laura.

"The governments of Colombia and Venezuela have anti-drug squads located in many of the small villages. The soldiers are supposed to sanitize the area they've been allocated, so that the government bosses can convince the rest of the world that they are making a sincere effort to destroy the cocaine trade. They get millions of dollars every year from the big western countries for the Army to fight the drug lords."

"And is it working?"

"Are you kidding? The soldiers are being paid off by the producers, and the traffickers. They've got the best of both worlds. That's why they've got themselves located in the best hotel in town. They've got money to burn."

"How does our group get along with the Army?" asked Jess.

"On the surface, it seems okay," replied Stu giving another one of his annoying, ambiguous answers.

"Stuart thinks the Army may have been responsible for our zambos leaving," said Hank.

"Why would you think that?" asked Laura.

"Just a feeling I have. Now that we've discovered the Atabapo Cave, I think they would just as soon have us leave, so they can take credit for the find."

"I don't agree Stu," said Hank. "If that were the case, the government could easily revoke our visas. Instead, Obispo arranged for us to fly rather than have to spend days on the river."

"That's because they realize they still need us to decode the symbols. If I were you, I'd feed them false information until we're all free and clear of this place."

"I wish you weren't so negative," said Hank. "In the three years we've been on the Project, I've had excellent co-operation. Gonzalo has been most generous. I'll admit their way of doing things may be different, but give it time, and you'll get used to it. I really think they want to help us."

"Well Hank, as I said before. What have they got to lose. We'll do all the work, and they'll get the credit," said Stu.

"There's one thing you're forgetting Stuart."

"What's that?"

"The native peoples of these countries remember the obscene exploitation of their resources by the Europeans four centuries ago, and the continued abuse of their lands and their people by our own powerful country. I think you're sensing their fear of being exploited again, this time by our party. All I would like to say is, try to forget these negative attitudes, and let's get the job done."

Stu grinned at the two new members of the expedition. "The guy's got a golden tongue. As I was saying to some of the fellows just the other day, Hank Newton could charm the drawers off a nun."

"I don't know if that's a compliment or not," said Hank, smiling.

Stu felt the need to explain his attitude. He didn't want to begin his relationship with these newcomers on a sour note. "I'd like you both to realize I'm not really such a downer. It's just that losing my best friend like I did, I guess I wanted to blame something."

When they reached the end of the wooden walks, the ground became firm. A narrow path, wound its way through the heavy growth to another small settlement by the river's edge. Moving gently at it's moorings was a small steamboat, the "Orinoco Queen".

Hank Newton spoke with an elderly black man who managed a weather beaten warehouse on the dock. Arrangements were made to have the students carry the supplies and store them in this building until the trek inland would begin. Henriquez was put in charge of the work, and Newton and his friends went aboard the small steamboat.

Waiting to greet them was Skipper, Jose' Barbarosa, over three hundred pounds of smiling latino with a raggy beard that didn't quite fit his fat face. The small craft tilted against the dock as he moved to the edge and extended his hand. He sweated profusely, even in the moderate air at this altitude. At sea level he would probably just melt away.

"My dear friend Dr. Henry." His voice had a hollowness about it, sounding as if it were electronically produced.

"Thank you for waiting Jose'. These are my two friends, Dr. Mason, and Dr. Martin."

Jose' extended his hand to Laura who reluctantly took it, and was repulsed by the huge man's lips touching her flesh. Tactfully she withdrew it, looking towards Jess who helped her out by extending his own hand to the fat man.

"It's nice to meet you Captain."

"Any friends of Dr. Henry, are friends of Jose'. Me and my humble boat are at your service."

"We can go whenever you're ready Captain. The others will have to come along later. They have a lot of equipment to move."

"I can wait Dr. Henry. My boat can carry a heavy load."

"I have no doubt about that," said Hank, smiling at the others, appraising the enormous bulk of the man.

"Then we go."

Grabbing a frayed pull cord, Jose' blew the steam whistle. Two of his men yanked in the mooring lines, and the small boat chugged into the fast running current. Swiftly they moved past the dense green of the jungle which dipped into the river's edge. Laura and Jess stood in the bow, watching the battered boat cutting its way through the dark water.

"So what do you think so far?" asked Laura.

"Too soon to tell. It was interesting though to hear Stu's comments. Seems he's got the same premonitions we both have."

"I think there's more to this drug thing than we've been told."

"Like what for instance?"

"The Army is located back here in the jungle. Getting paid off by both sides. Cocaine is big business. They sure don't want outsiders seeing the real dimensions of this thing," said Laura.

"Then why not refuse to let us do our work altogether?"

"In the beginning, no one expected the expedition would find anything. They were only trying to confirm the ancient legends. Now they've got a real mystery on their hands, complete with a radioactive cave. If they were going to stop us, they should have done it before Hank's discovery. Now it's almost too late."

"So what do you think could happen?"

"From what I've read, these drug lords think nothing of wiping out whole villages to keep control of their business. You can imagine how quickly they would come down on us, if they suspected we were nosing around their action."

"From what I've heard, even the Army has trouble finding these producers. What makes you think we're going to suddenly come across one of these compounds?"

"Colombia is the main refiner of the product. Brazil and Guatemala send enormous amounts of raw materials to be processed here. It makes sense, after you saw the condition of that runway, that the traffickers are going to use the river to get their product to the coast. So it seems to me, it also makes sense that the processors are going to locate as close to the river as they can, and we're going to be trekking across the land bordering on the river." Laura stopped for a moment and looked intently at him. "Does any of this make sense Jess, or do you think I'm becoming terribly paranoid?"

"That's the problem. It makes too much sense. Like you said before, we both better be alert. No matter how strange something may seem to either of us, don't be afraid to talk about it."

"Look at the fat excuse for a man, sucking up to Henry like that. What a ridiculous waste of skin. When he touched me, my flesh crawled. There are very few things in life I can't stand, and he's all of them."

"Avoid him. Stick close to me. I don't mind running interference for you."
Laura grabbed his arm and tilted her lovely face upwards, turning on the school girl charm which had turned many men to putty.

"I really do love you Jess. I feel safe with you."

"I just hope I haven't got you mixed up in something we'll both regret further down the road."

"Right now, I would be ready to go into the very jaws of hell with you, that's how much I trust you."

"Let's hope those words don't come back to haunt us.