Realization Page 6

  “Why the hell would they do that?” Fenneman asked, genuinely puzzled.

  “Because for whatever reason, they’re sitting on something big. Something really big. I'm hoping that after we round up Tucker and Trench we'll find out exactly what that is.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Connections

  JB, TRIED THE front door when he returned to Marvin's house, and after finding it locked, knocked several times. The old man opened it after a few moments and seemed to be himself, even giving JB an appraising look when he let him in.

  "Where the hell did you get off to?"

  "I'll tell y'all everything, but first, have a look at the screen over there," JB said. Regardless of the events of the past few hours, he was proud of what he managed to accomplish. The line on the screen remained unbroken as he walked over to the center of the room.

  "Damn! It looks like you might have done it…"

  "I was hoping you'd say that. Now I'm off their radar, maybe forever!"

  "Maybe," Marvin said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Criminy! I fell asleep in the chair, and now I've got a crick in my neck!"

  "What did y'all mean, 'maybe?'"

  "I mean just that… They might have other means. Can't be sure, but for now, it will certainly make you much harder to find. Your nano-bots are still broadcasting, you know, but it’s a null signal.”

  “What’s nowl signal?”

  “A null signal,” Marvin corrected. “It means there’s no content in the signal, but you're still broadcasting a carrier wave. Hopefully, this will buy you some time to figure how to keep them from broadcasting completely.”

  “How would I know?” JB said. His elation was fading fast.

  “Well, I think I could make you a piece of gear that would indicate if they were broadcasting.”

  “Like that?” JB said, pointing to the old tube monitor on the table. “How I supposed to carry something like that around?”

  “I think I can adapt an old phone for a screen,” the old man replied. "And I can probably modify the cell’s receiver frequency also. That would make it fairly compact."

  "That would be cool," JB replied. "Could it warn me if other aliens are nearby?"

  "It’s possible” Marvin rubbed his chin and thought for a minute. "You know, I might be able to rig it so it could alert you. Let me think about that. Meanwhile, how ‘bout some lunch? You can tell me what you were up to today while I rustle us up some grub.”

  JB exhaled loudly for emphasis before he spoke. “Well, while y’all were sleepin’ I got pulled in by the FBI.”

  “The FBI?” Marvin exclaimed in alarm. “What did they want? Did you tell them about me?”

  “Don't worry," JB said. "They didn't want nothin' with y'all, but they were knockin' on doors around the whole neighborhood, asking if anybody knew what happened at the pig-pull barbecue the other day. When they saw my ID, they made the connection ‘tween me an’ my cousin Terry.”

  “Colin's boyfriend?” Marvin asked. He didn't bother trying to keep the disgust out of his voice. “So, that's how you know Colin Trench the Third.”

  “Yes, sir. But don't go judgin' them. Despite their quirks, they is good people. They helped save my life, and they put down the alien that was after me.”

  Marvin snorted derisively. “Well, then he did a lot better than his daddy did.”

  “What about that?”

  Marvin grunted as he opened a can of chili and beans. “His father, Colin Trench the Second, and my son Jeffery were friends. High school buddies. Long story short, he convinced my son to sign up for the war in Vietnam. Turned out, that no-good son-of-a-bitch ended up getting Jeffery killed.” He banged the can against the side of the saucepan harder than he needed to. “The irony was that he died saving Trench's life. Dragged him out of the middle of a firefight after Trench got his leg nearly blown off. Jeffrey caught a bullet in the back of the head loading him into the medevac helicopter."

  "Bastard got to come back home with just a limp, and father a child with some pole-dancer from Nags Head while my Jeffrey came home in a box. Wouldn’t you know, my son sacrificed himself for nothing… Trench the Second ended up drinking himself to death, and his son turned out to be white trash with his militia and all. I don't have any sympathy for that family.” He stirred the chili as if the pot was the focus of his anger and loss.

  JB remained silent. He knew that there was nothing he could say that would matter. After a few more minutes, Marvin spoke up again, and his voice had lost all of its edge. For now, his curiosity had overpowered his anger.

  "But what happened up there anyways? I overheard some talk down at the market; somebody said the whole Trench Estate blew up and killed all of those crazy assholes. Not that they didn't deserve it… That's what they get for keeping all that ordinance around.”

  “It wasn’t their fault…” JB said and told Marvin how the FBI raided the pig-pull barbecue held by the Righteous Sons of Real Freedom at precisely the same time that the alien that had been hunting him had appeared. He described how during the ensuing firefight he, Terry, Colin, and a half dozen others had narrowly escaped through a secret, underground network of ancient pirate tunnels. He went into detail, relating how the alien, confronted by both lawmen and armed militia, used its superior firepower to decimate everyone in its efforts to kill him. And, how the explosion that wiped out the Trench Family Estate was a result of the massive battle that culminated with the collapse of the underground tunnels. He also sadly recounted that only he, Terry, and Colin made it out alive.

  "Whatever you think about Colin and Terry, I wouldn't have survived without their help."

  Marvin whistled and said, “That’s one hell of a story! If the authorities ever got wind of any of it, they’d stick you where the light don’t shine for the rest of your days!” He took the pot of chili off the stove and poured it into a couple of chipped bowls and brought it to the table.

  There was a long lull in the conversation before Marvin added, "I should know. My theories were dismissed as wild ramblings." He paused again. "Especially after the incident."

  "What incident?" JB, asked, scraping the last of his chili off the bottom of the bowl.

  Marvin hesitated as if he was considering whether to continue. Finally, he said, "There was another alien artifact that was recovered along with that ET in the desert. It was a solid piece of metal that was shaped like a triangle."

  JB dropped his spoon into his empty bowl. "Wait… Did it have a small red triangle in the center of it?"

  "How the hell did you know that?" Marvin said, his surprise and shock was palpable.

  "I saw one of those. It attached itself to a guy who went completely berserk afterwards."

  Marvin stared at JB for a long time, and then pulled off his tee-shirt, revealing a large scar in the center of his chest.

  "Jesus!" JB exclaimed. "How did you…"

  "How did I survive?" Marvin said, putting his shirt back on. "I nearly didn't. I was the first one to handle the thing extensively, and unfortunately, I wasn't taking any precautions when I examined it. They put it away and forgot about it. It was locked up in secured storage for almost five years until it came to my attention in some paperwork I was reviewing. I decided to take it to the lab for a better look. One minute I was leaning over the thing with a magnifier and the next thing I remember was waking up in an isolation ward at Walter Reed. What they told me was that it took five guys to restrain me. Lucky for me one of the Marines assigned to guard the laboratory used his Ka-Bar knife to pry the thing off of me."

  "Jesus! Talk 'bout a close call! What happened to you after it came off?"

  Marvin didn't answer right away. From the expression on his face, JB wasn't sure he would. But after a long pause, he said, "I was never the same after that…" He hesitated again before he changed the subject abruptly. "So, tell me more about the fellow you were just talking about. The guy with the triangle."

  JB didn't want to go into detail. The object tha
t had fastened itself onto the man had caused him to kill his own brother. Before he died in the brutal struggle, he had fired a bullet that had nicked his attacker's artery. Even as he bled out, the man possessed by the triangle was ferociously out of control up until he took his last breath. It was one of the most bizarre and frightening episodes JB had ever witnessed. But he said nothing of that. Instead, he simply replied, "He died."

  “Guess I was really lucky then. How did he come by it?" Marvin asked.

  "One of the brothers had a cellmate in prison who told him where to find it. The other broke him out so they could hunt for it. They thought they were looking for treasure."

  "Why'd they think that?"

  "Somebody told 'em that it was the 'key to millions'. They thought it was about millions of dollars. But I guess, they'all got it wrong." Another thought struck JB. "Do y'all know what happened to that thing after they pulled it off ya?"

  Marvin’s tone changed again. The memories that he was dredging up weren’t good ones. ”I’m not sure, to be honest. After I got out of the hospital, I was reassigned." There was another long silence before Marvin spoke again. He said, "When that thing attached itself to my chest it was as if my body was connected to another consciousness… Waiting… For what, I don't know. It was like the damn thing rewired my brain."

  JB thought about Marvin's episodes, wondering if there was a connection. But he said nothing about that. Now, he had a much darker thought. "Y'all think maybe they were down here testin' it on humans?"

  Marvin's expression revealed his alarm. "Holy Mother of God…Nobody ever considered that possibility before, but if you consider the implications… They're unimaginable."

  "The 'key to millions,'" JB said, almost in a whisper.

  "It was never about millions of dollars," agreed Marvin.

  JB remembered his strange dream, and if his Sawbonites hadn't suppressed his adrenalin rush he would have shuddered with the realization. "Shit no! It was 'bout millions of people! We gotta warn folks somehow!"

  "Hell, nobody would believe you. They'd just lock you up! Believe me. I tried telling anyone who would listen at first, but it was useless. Other former members of the team that dared to go public had very bad things happen to them. There was one guy…" Marvin stopped in mid-sentence. "Christ, I just remembered. He was pissed that they shut down the division and he was planning to go on TV, do interviews, and go big with everything he knew… Last I heard, the poor son-of-a-bitch had disappeared without a trace. I'm sure he's still rotting in a cell somewhere. That was a long time ago… I've even forgotten the man's name.”

  JB thought about that and remembered the unlucky brothers got their unfortunate tip from a dying inmate at Dolman State Prison. He wondered if there was a connection to Marvin's past. He said, "Maybe he was the guy that might'a spent his last days at Dolman, along with one of them brothers I told ya 'bout."

  "You think that's possible? That it was the same artifact?” Marvin said, a shocked look on his face. "In a strange way, it makes sense. He could have stolen it for proof.”

  “Damn! I only hope they ain’t more of them things around!”

  Marvin didn’t say anything. For a moment, JB thought he was on the verge of another episode, but he got up from the table and spooned his leftover chili into Jansky’s bowl. JB was curious to know more. He asked, "So, what happened to y'all after you healed up?"

  The old man shook his head in resignation before he replied. “Well, after I got out of the hospital, I was pretty much relieved of all my duties, then a few months later, they let me go. I guess it was just as well because not long after that, the political climate had changed and all of the ATIP research teams were phased out." He shook his head in disgust. "That was a big mistake!"

  “But, y’all kept on with your research,” JB prompted. Marvin nodded, and JB watched Jansky polish off the chili in his bowl. “But why hide out here?”

  "I had my reasons," Marvin said, looking down at his feet. He fell silent for a bit. Then he looked up at JB and said, “When I left, I took some files that I wasn’t supposed to have, but I wanted to keep working on uncovering what the aliens were doing out on the fringes of our galaxy. So I moved out here, far away from everything. But, I also believed there was a possibility that some connection might still remain between me and whatever it was that wormed itself into my brain…. That's why I shielded the house so that I could work undisturbed and undetected… From both the aliens and the government."

  "I assumed that despite all my precautions the aliens might track me down. That’s why I built those traps as a last resort. I had never deployed them before you came along… When my scanner picked up your alien signature… I just panicked." He looked at JB contritely and quietly added, "I almost killed you by mistake. I'm sorry."

  JB dismissed the apology with a slight wave of his hand. "Y'all ended up savin' my life, after all… So no harm done."

  "Just the same, I'm sorry," Marvin replied. He took several, deep breaths before he continued. "Anyways, about six months after I moved out here, my son Jeffery came to live with me." There was another long pause. "That was because, while I was away in Langley, my wife got tired of waiting for me. She had run off with some guy who didn’t get along with my son, so Jeffrey joined me out here, to finish high school."

  His eyes grew shiny, and he added. “Even my son, never really believed me… He thought I was crazy too.”

  “Aliens ain't a topic most folks take kindly to,” JB said gently. He got up and went to the sink and started washing the dishes. Marvin seemed relieved as if telling JB his history had lessened the burden of keeping old secrets.

  "Remember, I said there was something you should see," Marvin said as he got up from the table. He opened up a kitchen drawer and took out what appeared to be a small book.

  "This is a diary I bought years ago at a garage sale on Hatteras Island. Whoever had it probably never bothered to look inside, but I promise that you'll find it interesting reading."

  JB dried of the dishes and went over to take the book from Marvin. "Thanks, but my readin' ain't too good," JB admitted. "My daddy told everybody he was home-schoolin' me, but not really. What I know, I picked up mostly by myself."

  Marvin put a consoling hand on JB's shoulder and said, "I'm sorry to hear that JB, I think you deserved much better."

  "Thanks, Marvin. I gotta say my reading's improved some since my Sawbonites fixed me up. After daddy bashed my head in with his ol' Louisville Slugger a lot of stuff kinda didn't make no sense anymore."

  "Jesus!" the old man retorted. "I didn't realize it was that bad."

  "Worse than y'all could ever imagine," JB replied, avoiding the other's eyes.

  Marvin, shaking his head sadly, shuffled over to his workbench and sat down to begin sorting through the piles of scrapped parts and wires. Without turning around he said, "It's the handwritten account by a rescue swimmer who worked and lived on Pea Island. Could be the earliest alien encounter on record. Maybe when you have some time, you can give it a look."

  JB examined the book that Marvin had given him. The scrawl on the cover page read, "Property of Thomas Hall, 1887". Several pages had been torn out, but those that remained were yellowed and filled with faded ink in florid, handwritten script. He leafed through some it, but he was too distracted by both his conversation with Marvin and his run-in with the FBI to give it more attention. He closed the book and set it down on the dinette table and said, “I might not get a chance. Come tomorrow, the FBI says they're gonna lock me up if I don’t tell ‘em everything I know… An' I ain't 'bout t' do that."

  Marvin didn't respond. His attention was wholly focused on the phone case he was in the process of cracking open.

  "So, what do you think should I do?" JB insisted. He got up from the table and put the book into his back pocket.

  "Only one thing you can do," The old man replied as he waited for his soldering station to heat up. "Tell ‘em what they want to hear and be done with it.“
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  "I don't know what they'all want t' hear," JB complained. "The truth won't work. An' I truly have no idea t'all where Colin and Terry got off to!"

  Marvin's laugh was dry and mirthless. "Hell, just make up something… Say they told you they were headed to Mexico or something. Now, let me concentrate… Damn eyes are getting too old for this kind of close work."

  While Marvin spent the next few hours fiddling on his workbench with the big dog lying behind his chair, JB sat on the couch running various scenarios through his head about what might lie in store for him the following day. He didn't bother to engage in any further conversation with the old man, who was entirely engrossed in what he was doing. Right off the bat, Marvin's suggestion was a non-starter. Because he had already lied to the FBI once, they weren't about to believe anything else he might tell them without checking it out thoroughly first. He wracked his brain for better ideas but none came to mind. It was well after midnight before he gave up obsessing about it, even though he no idea of what he was going to do once the FBI showed up at noon. When he finally fell asleep on the couch, Marvin was still tinkering at his bench.

  Early the next morning, JB was startled awake by a knock at the door. The chair at the workbench was empty, but the big black Lab came out of Marvin's bedroom and joined JB as he got off the couch to see who it was.

  He peered through the peephole and saw agent Fenneman standing by herself on the porch, impatiently waiting for someone to answer the door. JB thought she looked disappointed, and even more exhausted than she had appeared the day before. JB opened the door and steeled himself for the trip down into town and everything else that would inevitably follow.

  "I didn't figure y'all would show up so early," he said, keeping his voice even. Because of the Sawbonites in his system, he always woke fully aware, without the slightest trace of grogginess.

  "Forget it," Fenneman said, her voice weary with resignation. "You're not going anywhere. We're pulling out. The investigation's over."