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Mark's new work takes him to various timelines. 2019 Quill Award Winner |
Chapter Three Mark & Ishmael âWelcome back Mark.â âWhere have I been?â âThatâs what youâre supposed to tell me.â âTell you? What do you mean, Iâm supposed to tell you? Who are you?â âIâm someone who cares for you right now. We are working together on a special project.â âSpecial project? Wait a minute, where am I?â âWhere you have been for a little while now.â âHold on a sec. Start over please. Why am I lying here like this? And again, who are you?â âYou may call me Ishmael.â As he said this, he fought hard to hide a smile. Moby Dick had always been a favorite book; he found he related well to that character. âIshmael huh. Nice. But you didnât answer my question Ishmael.â âMark, thereâs a goal weâre working towards, something we want to do. It canât be done without you. You are not a guinea pig for us; this is entirely voluntarily on your part.â âYou mean I can leave when I want?â âYes Mark, of course.â âSuppose I wanted to leave now?â âThen Iâd have no choice but to let you go. After you tell me where you were.â As Ishmael said this, Markâs mind seemed to shift to a new plane, or new level. He started to recall where he was before he woke. Ishmael could see the change in his demeanor, a light flush coming to his gaunt cheeks once again. Mark looked at his surroundings some, his gaze coming to rest on his reflection in the mirror. He knew that man in the mirror, hair starting to gray around the temples, curly locks atop his head. âAt least Iâm not going bald anytime soon.â he thought. With that thought in mind, he lay back on his pillow, and for the first time noticed the soft sounds in the room. There was the soft beeping of machines that he couldnât see, the quiet whirring of fans nearby, both mixed with myriad other noises he couldnât identify. âMark, do you think you can now tell me where you were?â Mark nodded his head, realizing he now knew the events of his recent past. Slowly he began to tell Ishmael where he had been, and what he did while there. A far off look came to his eyes as he slowly recalled his experiences. He spoke quietly, almost as if he was in a trance as he recounted where, and who he had been. As he lay back, his mind started to recall the recent events and where he had been. Chapter Four A Crash In The Desert âMac! Mac!â âYeah, what is it Jose?â âThereâs been a report of more rubbish on the mesa; from the description Manuel gave me, it seems like it might be the same stuff weâve found before.â Mac sighed softly to himself, they had found remnants of weather balloons on the mesa a couple of times already. Each time they called the sheriff, and each time the Army came and claimed the tattered pieces of balloon and weather gear. âWell, letâs get going Jose. Canât leave it lying out there. We both know the sheep will avoid it for the most part.â The desert (locals always called it a mesa, even though it wasnât a true mesa) was an unforgiving place. It could be hot one moment, then incredibly chilly after a sudden thunderstorm. Dry gulches would turn to raging rivers that quickly dried once the storm passed. The landscape in the area of the J.B. Foster Sheep Ranch was unlike most other areas. In the past, the sheep had ignored the debris area. At the same time, they couldnât risk having them get inquisitive and possibly become tangled in it. Due to the nature of the southwest desert and lack of vegetation, every available acre for them to graze on was needed. Getting that junk cleared had to be a priority. âAt least it isnât too hot yet.â thought Mac as he headed to join Jose. The drive to the reported crash site was longer than either of them wanted. They talked about recent events. Independence Day was a week in the past, and there was a lot of work to do. The ranch always had a float in the parade; getting it pulled apart and things back in order was one of the tasks that topped Macâs work list. As foreman of the ranch, there was a lot on his plate, with more being piled all the time. It was 1947, and the world seemed to move faster with each passing day. They finally found the site Manuel had talked about, but both were shocked and surprised at what they saw. âWhat in the blazes do we have here?â âNo idea Mac, Iâve never seen anything like it.â Macâs worn features reflected confusion, his forehead wrinkled in thought as he looked at the rubble strewn across the mesa. âWell, it doesnât look at all like stuff weâve picked up before. Yâknow, pieces of a weather balloon. This is totally different. Take that largest piece over there, Iâve never seen anything like it. This is strange, very strange. And look at that hillside! It looks like something plowed into it at a pretty high speed. Look at all the junk! Itâs everywhere you can see.â Mac continued speaking, almost rambling now. âNot just that, thereâs not a single sheep anywhere in sight! Do they know something we donât?â Jose nodded in agreement as he looked around. The sheep ranch was huge, with thousands of sheep raised on it. Yet the vast desert prairie that they could see was empty. Nothing within eyesight moved across the desert. Mac looked around a little more, then looked at Jose and said, âDo you know what else is unusual here?â Jose looked around, creases visible on his forehead as he pondered Macâs question. Finally he said, âThereâs no sound of wild life or insects. I donât see any hawks floating on updrafts near this area, no crows, nothing! âExactly! Itâs too quiet here, too void of life. Câmon, letâs go see the sheriff.â They drove north to Corona and found the County Sheriffâs office. As they entered the office, Mac noticed a woman was there talking to the Sheriff. She stood to one side, giving Mac only a glimpse of one side of her features. Being a married man, he rarely paid attention to a woman he didnât know, but this lady was striking. She was about five and a half feet tall, maybe 32 years old, with a figure he thought many women would gladly have at any age. Her shoulder length brown curls hung loosely about her face as she talked to the sheriff. Mac could hear them talking about recent events in the Southeastern New Mexico area. âYes Sheriff, I know itâs boring here, but surely youâve seen a few things going on. Anything that will give me a short story for the paper.â âI know Jean, but really, itâs been very quiet. I think everyoneâs recovering from the holiday. Usually I could talk to you about events in the parade, but even the events and parties after it were tame compared to yearâs past.â At this point, Mac cleared his throat and said, âExcuse me Sheriff. Thereâs some strange stuff out on the mesa again. I thought it would be another of those weather balloons, like before. But this covers a much larger area, and doesnât resemble anything Iâve seen.â At this point, the woman moved a little closer to the pair, and spoke to Mac. âHello there⊠Uhhhh, Iâm sorry, I donât know your name.â Mac was a little surprised she approached him somewhat boldly. After all, werenât women supposed to stay at home and clean house, raise a family? As a result, he didnât want to say much to the woman, but his mouth seemed to have a life of its own as he said, âMac. Mac Brazel. Foreman for the J.B. Foster Sheep Ranch a little south of here.â âGood Afternoon Mac, Iâm Jean Hummel, with the Roswell Daily Press. Is this something I could use as a story?â Mac managed to catch himself before he responded. Something deep inside told him not to say too much about the debris, at least not yet. Instead, he said, âHi Jean, nice to meet you. I donât think thereâs much here, itâs just a pile of junk on the mesa. Just wanted to let the Sheriff know about it to see if we can get it picked up.â âAre you sure Mac?â Once again, Mac found himself a little put off by her demeanor and wondered why she was there. âYeah, pretty sure.â âWell, if you change your mind, look me up at the Roswell Daily Press, okay?â âSure, sure will.â For his part, Mac was happy to stop talking to her. For some reason she affected him in a curious way. He couldnât put his finger on it, but he hadnât felt this way around a woman in many years. Maybe it was the yellow ribbon that held her brown curls out of her face. Yellow was his wifeâs favorite color after all. He had no idea what it was, he only knew he felt a little different when she was near. The Sheriff listened patiently to Mac as he described the rubble found on the desert. Jean stood nearby, listening intently to Macâs story. Mac tried to ignore her presence, but knew it was useless. He didnât mind her listening, it wasnât like a bit of rubbish on the mesa was a secret, but heâd rather have talked to the sheriff alone. When Mac explained the size of area covered by the debris, the sheriff stopped him and said, âHold on a sec. This thing covers an area twice the size of the other stuff youâve found?â âYep. You remember how the military down in Roswell came up each time and took it all away.â âYep. I bet theyâll want to see this. Let me call them now then and get them up here.â While the sheriff called Roswell, Mac stood back and relaxed, casually looking around the office. Jean stood to one side, and once again he was struck by her appearance. He wouldnât call her beautiful, but there was something about her. She must have sensed him looking; she looked over to him again, and slowly walked over to stand by his side. Speaking softly she said, âThis sounds like it might be a story. I would really appreciate it if youâd share it with me once this is all done.â âIâm sorry MaâamâŠâ Jean interrupted him in mid-sentence and said, âPlease, call me Jean.â âAlright, Iâm sorry Jean, but to me, this is just more junk that fell from the sky. Military weather balloon stuff maybe, but of a different sort than I found before.â âYâknow, when you said âFell from the skyâ, in my mind I saw an object crashing into a mountain or hill. Some kind of object youâve never seen, or one you couldnât identify by name.â Mac looked at her for a moment, his eyes wide at her statement. âWell Jean, I donât think this is one of those flying saucers I read about recently. Your statement is curious though. You didnât call it a flying saucer, you said it was something I couldnât identify. Interesting.â âMac, once the military has picked this stuff up, call me. We do need to talk.â At this point, their brief conversation was interrupted by the sheriff, who said, âThe Army is on their way. They want to get out to the ranch as soon as they can.â âAlright sheriff, I think Iâll wait across the street in Isabelâs CafĂ©. Iâll watch for âem, and come back when I see their trucks.â Mac turned to ask Jean if he could buy her a cup of coffee, but she was nowhere to be seen. âThatâs curious,â he thought. âWhere could she have gone so quickly?â Turning to the sheriff, Mac said, âWhere did Jean go?â âWho?â âJean, the reporter who was here a minute ago.â âI donât know really. This was the first time Iâve met her. Guess she got bored and left.â Mac waited in Isabelâs cafĂ©, relaxing for a bit. Jose was nowhere to be seen either, but Mac was pretty sure he was visiting friends in town. About two hours after the sheriff called them, the Army showed up. A light cloud of dust seemed to herald their approach, though that wasnât the case at all. One couldnât drive anywhere in Southeastern New Mexico without stirring up dust. Mac ambled across the road to the sheriffâs office, where he was introduced to the armyâs senior leaders by the sheriff. âMac, this is Major Jesse Marcel and Captain Sheridan Cavitt. Gentlemen, this is Mac Brazel, the man who found the rubbish on the mesa.â âGood afternoon Mr. Brazel. Nice to meet you. We obviously want to see what it is youâve found, would you mind if we followed you to the ranch?â Mac looked at the sun and noticed it was well past noon, rapidly heading for the distant horizon. âWell, itâs a bit late in the day to get to the mesa, how about you follow me, Iâll put you up at the ranch guest house, and we can go out early tomorrow?â âWell, we were hoping to get there tonight, and head back to the base after dark if necessary. After all, we brought along a squad of airmen to help us get this loaded.â âMajor, driving unfamiliar roads out here is not the best of ideas really. The roads donât twist a lot, but Iâd feel a lot more comfortable if you went in the morning. Is there any reason you canât get the stuff then?â âNot really, but I wouldnât want to put you out at the ranch by having us there. Especially since we have that squad with us. We can stay here in town and meet in the morning.â âNonsense Major! We have ranch hands there all the time. The cook always has extra food cooked, and there is a bunk house. Might be about the same as what you have on base, I donât know.â The two Army men conversed briefly out of ear shot, then came back and said, âOkay, we can do that. Letâs head to your ranch.â Mac spent a little bit of time locating Jose. Luckily, he located him faster than he thought he would. It helped having a good idea of where he would be. With the Army following behind them, they drove to the ranch. It took about a half hour to get everyone settled before Mac was able to sit back and relax. He knew the next day would be a busy one, but he had no idea how busy it would really be. The next morning Mac took the Army officers and their men to the rubble site. When they arrived at the site the Major and Captain were the first to exit the Lorrie. âWhereâs all this stuff you found Mr. Brazel?â âItâs here Major, over this small hill beyond the road.â The men walked over the hill and the Major had his first view of the area. He seemed a little stunned as he stammered, âCaptain, this debris is,,, is,,,â He stopped for a minute as he tried to find the right word to use. After a few seconds, he said, âThis debris is odd, very odd! Itâs much more than I expected, how about you?â âMajor, I wasnât sure what to expect really, theyâre always different. But thereâs no way this one can be compared to the others we found. One thingâs for sure, this doesnât look like debris from a weather balloon.â âNo, it doesnât look like that to me either. Look at that gash in the ground. I donât see how a weather balloon would cause that.â The two men continued to explore the debris field, examining small pieces and working with the airmen to place each in the trucks as they did. Eventually every visible piece was collected and packed away. Mac thought it a little strange that they pulled the tarp over the back, effectively hiding everything from view. âThank you for calling us Mr. Brazel. How can we contact you if we need to talk to you?â âI think the base has the number for the ranch, youâve been out here before picking up stuff from weather balloons. I know it wasnât you, but our number is there. Weâre in the phone book too of course.â âThatâs true. Well thank you again. I hope we donât have to bother you again.â The soldiers piled into the Lorrieâs, and the group left, leaving a cloud of dust behind them as they drove away. The next morning, Mac was astonished when he heard the Roswell Army Base news release. âFlying disk recovered near Roswell!â Mac was back in Corona getting supplies for the ranch when the news broke over the radio. Curious about what the military was saying about the rubble, he went to the only person who might be able to answer his questions, the Chavez County Sheriff. As he entered the small office, he found Jean was already there. He felt a pleasant flush at seeing her. She looked even better today than she had the previous day. Her shoulder length brown hair was once again tied in a yellow ribbon, this time it was accentuated by the pale yellow top she was wearing. Seeing him enter, Jean excused herself from the sheriff and walked over to Mac. âMac, good to see you again. If possible, would you be willing to answer a few questions about yesterday for me?â âIâm not sure what more I can say, but I will answer them as best I can Jean.â For some reason, Mac wanted to talk to Jean, wanted to learn more about her also. âOkay, first off, I would like to know what was really found in the desert. Was it really a flying disk?â âWell, at first I thought weâd see more stuff like weâve found in the past. Weather balloon stuff and parts, you know.â âIâm sorry Mac, but I donât know. What did you find in the past?â âJust stuff, you know. Stuff that large balloons are made of. Some rope, pieces of cloth that make up the balloon, small instruments that looked scientific. Things like that.â âAnd that wasnât what you found yesterday?â âNot exactly. There was a large metal object, larger than any weâve found before. Not much else other than pieces of some kind of metal scattered all over the place.â âI see. Thank you Mac.â Jean made a show of writing his comments on a small notepad and softly said, âMeet me at Isabelâs CafĂ© across the street as soon as you can.â Mac talked to the sheriff for a few minutes, but the sheriff had little he could offer in the way of more information. He wanted to get across the street, but didnât want to seem rude by leaving so soon. He spent a little time talking about other ranch related topics with the sheriff. For his part, the sheriff listened politely, nodding at the appropriate moments. Finally, Mac excused himself and walked across the street. Jean was sitting at a table in the corner when he arrived. As he looked at her, he saw her eyes light with what seemed to be happiness. Seating himself, the two of them talked softly. âMac, we have to talk.â âYeah, we do. I donât mean to sound rude, but tell me, youâre a woman. Why arenât you married and working at home?â âShort version. I donât want to be. Longer version. I want to work. I donât plan on being here in Roswell very long, I have goals, I intend on working for a paper, magazine, or radio station in a large city within the next year. I hope thatâs enough for you. Now, like I said, we have to talk!â âTalk about what?â She whispered urgently, âWhat you found in the desert!â Her eyes shone with excitement, and maybe a touch of fear as she said this. Taking her cue, Mac responded in a soft voice. âI donât know what I found in the desert though. It was a bunch of stuff Iâve never seen before.â âMac, what you must do, is convince people you found a weather balloon, or pieces of it.â âWhy should I lie like that?â âI will explain more as we talk. I mean it though, you must convince people you found another pile of debris from a weather balloon. I canât begin to tell you how important that is.â âThat might take some doing. Iâm not a man who likes to lie. Iâve always told the truth when asked, it just seems to be the right thing to do. So why should I lie?â âTo save the planet. To save mankind.â âWhat are you talking about?â âIâve been working with them, or for them you might say, to keep their identity hidden. They are here among us, watching us. How many, and who might be one of them, I have no idea. But I was taken to their main ship. It was there I was briefed, and convinced I need to help them. Itâs that, or they will wipe us off the face of the Earth.â âThem? Who in the heck is âthemâ?â âThe ones who fly to the stars, the ones who were aboard that crashed craft.â âYou mean little green men?â âOh no Mac, nothing as trite as that. These creatures are so advanced, so far ahead of us in the things they can create, the things they can do. They really scare me!â âAre you one of them?â âNo, I am a woman, a human. Iâm also one of thousands they have working for them, and there are thousands of them here too. They are dangerous. They have weapons we canât even imagine. We all saw a small demonstration of their power.â âThere were others with you?â âNo, at least I didnât see other humans then. But Iâm convinced, and you should be too.â âHow did you come to be involved in this?â âI was out walking one night in the woods behind my house in New York. I saw a flying disk land in a small clearing. I thought I was being quiet, being careful. Somehow they must have known I was there. Seeing the flying disk scared me, so I ran. Except, I didnât get anywhere. I was lifted in the air by some unseen force and placed in the disk. I didnât feel threatened, but I was still scared. Then, my stomach lurched like when youâre on a carnival ride. Thatâs when I realized the disk had taken off. I must have passed out, because the next thing I know, I was on their main ship.â âWhy are you telling me all this? Why involve me?â âYou found the wrecked craft. Youâre involved whether you want to be or not.â âWhat happens if I refuse to lie?â âThey will destroy the Earth.â âDestroy the whole Earth? Oh câmon!â âWhen I was on the mother ship, they took me to another system, a fledgling one that was still developing. They showed me. They split a planet into millions of pieces!â âYou mean like our asteroid belt?â âNot quite. This planet literally disintegrated! It was more dust than anything else, I saw no large fragments.â âWell, you were probably too far away and couldnât see anything of any size.â âMac, stop thinking like a human! They flew their craft through the area where that planet had been. There was nothing there other than wisps of dust. Yes, there were larger pieces, but nothing like what Iâve seen in our asteroid belt.â âYouâve seen the asteroids?â âI told you, they took me to a distant system. We flew past the asteroid belt to get there.â âIâm still not convincedâŠ.â At this point, Mac felt a sort of tickling as if someone was lightly touching him. When he looked around, all he saw was a white mist. He felt his stomach do a flip-flop, then a rush of air for a moment. Slowly the mist enveloping him disappeared, and he found himself in a strange room. Strange gray men, taller than most humans, surrounded him. One of them raised his hand and said, âIf our human helper canât convince you, maybe we can.â Mac was astonished, and couldnât believe what he was seeing. He wiped his eyes as if to see better, but the gray creatures were still there. Looking around he saw he was in a huge chamber better suited for large equipment than him and the gray men. He turned slowly to see around him, and was amazed at the size of it all. âWho are you? Where am I?â âYou are aboard what your friend Jean, calls our main ship, our mothership. You may call me Klaack.â Now Mac felt himself about to lose his grip on his sanity. A tall gray alien had just spoken to him! And in English too! This wasn't, couldnât be right. He didnât know where he was, it was all too much for his mind to comprehend. Klaack saw this, and reached out to touch Macâs head. Mac tried to prevent the contact, but suddenly found he couldnât move. âMac, relax please. Weâre not going to hurt you.â âHow do I know that?â âIf we were going to hurt you, wouldnât we have done that by now?â âI donât know. Right now, Iâm not sure what I know.â âYou will be fine. Many of you go through a bit of shock when you first see us. May I offer you a small drink?â âIt wonât be poison, will it?â âMac, please relax man. Believe me, if we were going to hurt you, we wouldnât have brought you here.â âWell, thereâs some truth to that. Maybe. Tell me. How are you able to speak English?â The gray man shook his head slowly and said, âMac,,,, Mac. Weâve been observing your planet for eons. Do you really think weâd just observe your species and not learn to speak your languages? We know every language spoken on Earth.â Thinking for a moment, Mac thought that his answer made sense. âWhy did you bring me here?â âTo convince you, like we convinced Jean. You must not let your species know you found a crashed spacecraft. You have to tell a different story.â âWhy is that so important?â âIn our travels across what you call the universe, we have observed many species like yours. In every case, when our existence was discovered, the fledgling species wanted to learn more. They wanted to explore the universe like we do. Your (and their) thirst for knowledge is fine, but it must come in due time. If you try to learn all this before youâre ready, humankind will become more violent than it is now. You may even pose a threat to us. We are a peaceful race; it took us far more time to become peaceful than you can imagine. In our explorations, weâve learned that a strong defense is necessary. Many immature races tend to be violent. Sadly, some never seem to mature. If we think an attack could one day come from them, we destroy their planet to keep us, and the rest of the universe safe. If your kind learned too much too soon, weâd have no choice but to do the same to your Earth.â âYeah, Jean told me she saw what you can do. So you play judge and jury when it comes to other species? What makes you think that is right?â âOh we donât like doing it, but speaking in your time frame, weâve been around over five million years. Weâre just more advanced than most. We try to help other species learn to embrace a peaceful existence. Sometimes we can, sometimes we canât.â âHow will my story stop humans from advancing too fast?â âBy itself, it wonât. We have to step in now and then to guide you.â âHow do you guide us?â âJean told you we have thousands of us among you on Earth.â âYep, but Iâve never seen a gray man.â âThatâs because we are chameleons. We can change colors as we wish, depending on where we are. It can be unconscious, or intentional. Here, let me show you.â The one he had been speaking with waved his hand, and the wall behind him and the other aliens slowly changed from gray to green, then a pale shade of red. As the wall changed, their skin color changed simultaneously with the wall color. Mac rubbed his eyes again as if trying to convince himself that everything he saw was real. A thought popped in his head, so he asked, âYou can change colors. But not all humans look the same. Iâve never met others from distant countries, but look at us in America! Black people do not have the same kind of bodies that white people have. Their lips are thicker, they have curly hair, wider noses. Indians have higher cheekbones and a very distinct appearance.â At this, Macâs voice trailed off as the one heâd been speaking with smiled. âLike I said, we are chameleons. Not only can we change our color, we can change body style too.â Mac almost gasped as the one in front of him slowly changed. Suddenly, Mac thought he was looking in a mirror, as he was now looking at a replica of himself. âThere are more of us on your Earth than you might think. We guide humankind, leading you, teaching you how to live peacefully.â âNot to be disrespectful, but why did World War II occur recently then? As well as everything else going on.â âWe are not all powerful, we are not what you call gods. We can only guide, and offer advice. Many times, we arenât listened to. But we are patient, we will teach you to live in peace, or destroy you.â Remembering what Jean said just before he found himself here, he began to believe they would do what this alien said they could. Klaack saw the change in his expression, and knew he had made his point with Mac. Suddenly, a gray mist surrounded Mac again. Once more he felt his stomach do a flip-flop and knew he was heading back. The tickling ceased, and he found himself staring in to the blue eyes of Jean. âThey took you, didnât they!â âYes, how long was I gone?â âOnly a couple of seconds.â âIt seemed like it was at least an hour.â âWell, youâve been here the whole time gazing into space. Iâm guessing they âtook youâ when your face seemed to relax. When I looked in your eyes, I didnât see âyouâ there and figured what had happened. A moment ago I saw your eyes focus, and when you looked at me, I knew where you had been.â Mac ran a hand over his balding head, wonder and amazement apparent on his face. âThe amount of power they yield is astonishing. They say we need to mature more as a race; I can see their point. I wonder why they donât intervene and stop us from warring the way we do.â âI donât think they are a warring race. They have great power yes, but they do not like to use it. To them, using it means they have failed in helping a race learn to live in peace.â âYou may be right. With everything Iâve seen today, I need to change my story. I just wonder what I can say about it now. The truthâs been told already, how can I backtrack?â âYou didnât say anything, the Army did. All you need to do is say you thought it was more debris from a weather balloon crash.â âThatâs true. Iâm not happy about having to lie, but Iâd rather live with this lie than see our race annihilated. Itâs getting late, I should head back to the ranch.â Mac excused himself and walked to his car. As he walked past the barber shop, he heard the radio blaring. The announcer was complaining about the Army changing its story from yesterday. âI think thereâs a cover-up going on around here. Yesterday, in a press release Colonel Blanchard, the Commanding Officer at the Roswell Army Air Field announced the Army had recovered a flying disk. This morning, Brigadier General Ramey, oh and heâs Colonel Blanchardâs superior over in Fort Worth by the way, says that all they recovered was some battered balloon parts. Iâm told he even held up a piece of metal shaped like a disc and said it was a radar reflector. Iâm telling you, thereâs a cover-up! Mac poked his head in the door and said, âRalph, that announcer is full of it. I helped the Army recover that stuff, it was balloon debris. Itâs happened on the ranch before, will probably happen again.â As Mac walked across the street to his car, he felt dizzy, and a little nauseous. He got in the car and sat back, his head resting on top of the seat, eyes closed.â ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ Mark said, âAnd thatâs when I woke up and saw you. How long was I gone?â Ishmael replied, âYou were gone maybe forty five seconds. Less perhaps.â âWow, it was at least three to four days for me!â I know. Time isnât the same when youâre out, is it? An associate did some checks on this Mac Brazel while you were telling the story. I guess weather balloons were found on the ranch just a few weeks before, and one other time much longer in the past. He was interviewed several other times after this incident, and during at least one interview, he firmly stated, âI am sure what I found was not any weather observation balloon.ââ Ishmael continued speaking. âOne thing puzzles me though. Why didnât you tell the others what was going on? I mean you are here, and went back in time, so why didnât you tell them what you know of this incident?â âWell, when I was there, I was Mac Brazel, I had no memory of being me. It was as if my persona was completely gone until I woke a little bit ago.â âI see. This is not what I was expecting in this project. Still, itâs an interesting turn of events.â âI guess. Plus, that would give some credence to what I experienced as Mac then, the visit to the alien mothership and seeing what I saw in the desert.â âYes it would. Also, this event changed Macâs life. He was placed in military custody for a week, and never mentioned what happened while he was there. After being in custody, he became very bitter and upset about discovering the rubble. He got to the point where he wouldnât talk about finding the UFO. In fact, one person tried to talk to him as he was eating breakfast in that same cafĂ©. Instead of answering, Mac got up and left without finishing his meal.â As Ishmael finished saying this, he looked over at Mark, and saw that Mark was gone once more. Ishmael worked quickly, adjusting the equipment to bring Mark back when the time was right. |