Star Gift

Chapter Twenty-One

That evening the three explorers returned to Farmington, worn-out emotionally as well as physically. After driving Michael and Blake back to the hotel around ten PM, Tuwa planned to return home, only promising she would come back the following morning after a good night's sleep.

"We all need rest," she said, staying at the wheel as the two climbed out of the Jeep and stood lifelessly on the sidewalk.

"I'm bringing a small cargo hauler connected to the back of my Jeep tomorrow," she said. "We have to get those discs out of where they're hiding. They're just too valuable to history to leave there now. Even for a single day."

"Alright," Michael answered. "I'm with you on that. Now that we know their use and power."

"So go get something to eat, you two," she added. "You'll need strength for tomorrow."

"There's a small taco shop nearby," Michael answered exhaustedly. "He looked down the dark street to a brightly lit building. "We'll be fine, Tuwa. And thanx for . . ."

"No prob. Good night guys."

As she drove off, Blake felt his arms, shoulders and back aching from the day of digging. But it all seemed insignificant as he could not forget the face of the alien they encountered, its large intelligent eyes—and how it seemed hauntingly semi-human.

Following a quick but voracious meal of a beer, tacos and cheese quesadas, while the two sat on a bench outside the food stand, Blake and Michael walked back silently to the hotel to rebook a room. Each took a hot shower and remarked that their skin, exposed to the sun all day, was especially tinted and sensitive with sunburn. Blake complained about the discomfort of it as he got into bed.

"It's something more," Michael said before falling into his own bed naked. "I know regular sunburn when I feel it. This is something else we were exposed to inside the craft. Probably due to the intense energy. Those high intensity vibrations applied to the discs. We got quite a dose of that ourselves."

"Yeah what do you make of that, Michael?

"It's some kind of advanced communication system. Accessed through sound frequencies. The energy flying off the discs gave me some kind of compressed information. And very clearly. I got feelings and information without any need for language. It's universal in that sense."

"Wow."

"Those discs are obviously some sort of storage system. Like silent books of info. And I can remember all of it. Like some kind of test I've studied weeks for."

"That's too weird.," Blake said, lightly touching the sensitive skin on his arms. "But you're gonna have to tell the whole world what you learned, Michael . . . before you sleep it off forever."

"Hardly." He smiled. "I feel like I can recite it all anytime . . . and in great detail, Blake."

"Whatever, man. Just make sure you do it sometime soon, alright? So I guess we're going out there again . . . tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah. We've got to take ownership of that stuff. No delays."

"Well right now, I don't think much could stop me from crashing, Michael."

Feeling his body sink into the mattress, Blake indeed fell into a deep sleep, even before he heard Michael agree with him.

Suddenly, from what seemed like only moments later, Blake awoke to the sound of his cell phone. It was still in his jeans and ringing loudly. Slowly, he reached for the chair where his dusty clothes were draped. He took out the phone on the fifth or sixth ring and could see on screen that it was Russel, calling from San Diego.