Star Gift

Chapter Twenty-Five

In the morning both Blake and Michael were wakened by persistent knocks on their locked door. The sound was accompanied by Tuwa's soft voice. Her words didn't sound stressed but instead calm and conscious of not wanting to wake anyone else.

Michael jumped up off the bed. He ran over and stood before the closed door.

"Tuwa? Are you alone?"

"Yeah Michael. But we need to talk."

Blake was now fully awake, and his and Michael's eyes met momentarily. They both seemed to be asking each other if it was a trap just to get the door open. Michael reached under his pillow where he had kept the discs all night and quickly slipped on his jeans, staying shirtless and barefoot.

He handed the discs to Blake.

"Lock the door behind me if go all the way out. Just keep it locked no matter what happens."

Blake slid the discs under the covers and followed Michael to the door, prepared to carry out the plan.

As Michael peered out carefully into the hallway, he heard Tuwa's calm voice again. "It's alright, Michael. Really . . . it's just me."

When he was certain she was truly alone, he opened the door and pulled Tuwa in, locking it behind them. She looked around at the pile of things on the floor—the broken lamps and several mattress slats sticking out from their original position. She also could see drawers were emptied and the bathroom door was unhinged and hanging at an angle.

"Oh my gosh!  Did this happen when you two were . . ."

"No. While we were gone yesterday," Blake informed her.

"Well thank goodness for that!" she said, stepping over the damage and mess. "And the discs?" she asked reluctantly, seeming to fearfully know what the answer would be.

"They didn't find them," Michael answered matter-of-factly.

"Wow. That's a miracle!"

Tuwa sat on the bed, obviously wanting to share something, looking now even more perplexed. "I got this really strange call on my cell phone, this morning. About six o'clock. It woke me up."

"Who was it?" Michael asked, walking over to check the door and back, standing before her.

"His name is Berling. Dr. Chris Berling. He's an archaeologist. Works just over the New Mexico border in Colorado. At Mesa Verde."

Blake looked at Michael, puzzled.

"Its another ancient site of the Pueblo people," he informed him. "Where they lived in stone bock houses under the cliffs. Before they . . ."

"Disappeared," Tuwa assisted.

"So, what did he say?" Michael insisted.

"I'm not sure, really. It was kind of unreal . . . what he knew, actually."

"How do you mean?"

"He couldn't say much on the phone, he told me. Only that he wants to meet us all at the site. A specific pueblo complex he's been excavating."

"So what do you think that's about, Tuwa?"

"I have a few ideas. He's aware of our work. I mean he's a believer in ancient contact. Knows tons about the Pueblos over on that side. Their attempt to not be seen from the sky. . . evidence of their mass disappearance. But it was what he said before hanging up that I couldn't place. How he would know."