Embrace the Fog E-Book

Ross Richdale

• Herausgeber: Ross Richdale
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Embrace the Fog

Leseprobe

EMBRACE THE FOG

Ross Richdale

Travis Crichton and Jacey Roden's weekend orienteering contest in a vintage Mark 4 Jaguar car becomes a journey through a belt of fog and into a strange village called The Valley that is not shown on any map. The store and people there appear to be living in the 1950s, a time when the car was new. Jacey realises that this is more than random misfortune and that they are caught up in something more sinister.

Back home through the fog, the authorities are interested in the Jaguar and it is no coincidence that an elderly Susan, a retired professor called Kevin and a second vintage Jaguar are involved. A ruthless enemy attacks one car and their only escape is to return to The Valley in the other car where their adventures begin.

Seen mainly through Travis's eyes, Jacey and the others try to find the truth but become more involved in the time space continuum. Life identities from the future are involved, as is an organisation called Sago comprising of solids, androids, gaseous and organic intelligent species. Sago is using her family to prove or otherwise that humans are an inferior life species who revert to barbarism when under pressure. This test is but one to show that androids have superseded humans as the superior solid life identity.

In this task, the Roden family are but the pieces in an intergalactic chess game with the umpires seemingly neutral but in reality either for or against the human family becoming unified. How can one play by the rules when the umpires are biased?

Worse still; Jacey and Travis do not even know why it is happening, who is helping and who is hindering their efforts to find out the truth.

After all access back home is broken, a journey through strange realms with links with other humans from both the past and their future, hold the key. Are the vintage Jaguar cars the catalyst to this random journey through the cosmos or is it Jacey herself? Only by embracing the fog will they discover more about their lives, both in the past, present and future.

*

PROLOGUE

Sago - English Translation

At the convention of Year 674.658 of The Meeting it has been agreed by all participating life identities that the intelligent species of the known galaxies shall be divided into four categories. These are solids, androids, gaseous or organic intelligent species, henceforth known as Sago.

Individual life forces can select the category they wish to be incorporated into. However, for simplicity's sake it is not recommended that more than one category per life force is selected. In stating this, the Federated Council is prepared to recognise the rights of individual species to abstain from being included in any category and to also amend the categories, if or when new life forces not yet contacted or known in our universes, wish to be known as intelligent identities.

Earlier agreements of mutual respect for each intelligent species' right to be alive are not altered by this classification nor are the agreed protocols of what intelligent species are.

*

Kevin Petersen rolled the epaper up, tossed the rubberised cylinder aside and stared at his companions, partner Susan Roden, her brother Nick and sisters Jacey and Azaria who were all sitting across the evacuation chamber. "Didn't work, did it? The war is all but lost and humans will be superseded by androids, either by mass genocide or compulsory electronic genetic modification."

"Does it matter now?" Susan whispered. "With more important things happening I don't know why you waste your time going back over those ancient historical papers, anyway."

Kevin glanced up. "Because finding out about the past may have stopped us from repeating our ancestors' mistakes."

"Where did you get this old script anyway?" Nick appeared to be the only other person really interested. Perhaps it was a gender thing.

Kevin shrugged. "By mistake actually. My pack originally held stuff I was studying at the university. In haste, I shoved my clothes on top and it ended up coming with me." He grinned. "Better reading than playing those mental warp games you do all the time, Nick."

"Oh leave him alone, Kevin," Jacey cut in. "At least he followed your advice and doesn't get high on hallucinatory pops most of the other teenagers on the ship have become addicted to." She reached over and affectionately squeezed her brother's arm. He was the youngest in their family and was almost mothered by his three sisters.

Nick grinned and turned back to Kevin. "I've talked to the fog and they hinted that they would watch over us."

"Didn't you mean you used telepathy" Jacey replied. "How can a fog talk?"

"By taking over a human body for a few moments."

Jacey laughed. "I think your imagination is going too far, Nick."

Nick grinned. "So I was talking to you?"

"Me?"

"The fog took over your body. Said you were asleep and wouldn't need it for a few moments."

Jacey paled. "I did fall asleep," she gasped.

"Don't worry Jacey, no harm came out of it," Susan said. "You know how mysterious these gaseous life forms are, don't you?"

Kevin frowned. Two gaseous intelligent forms were aboard Starcruiser 164 to help them get through the android blockade around Planet Gamma 6, one of the last human outposts to surrender to the enemy. However, even with their help after the destruction of the planet their escape had been followed. In his opinion, the fogs were dubious allies at the best.

*

Without warning, a siren shrieked and flashing blue and red lights lit up the chamber. There wasn't even an electronic announcement into their minds. This was bad!

After five seconds of dead silence a metallic voice, like those used in ancient craft from a museum, echoed through the tiny space, "Life support and artificial gravity are off line. Your air supply cannot be replenished. Your personal time/space continuum codes have been activated. You have five minutes to use them or risk expiry."

At the same time gravity disappeared and only his restraining belt stopped him from floating towards the ceiling. Everyone looked scared.

"We were told never to use the codes unless it was a life or death situation," Susan gasped as she floated ten centimetres above her seat.

"And this isn't?" Azaria yelled.

"We have to do it together." Kevin moved his tongue across to his right wisdom tooth. It felt loose and warm just as he had been told in the original instructions. All he had to do was to push it.

"I'm ready," Susan reached out and gripped his hand.

"Me, too," Nick sounded nervous.

"Mine's loose," Azaria added.

"Do it on three, Kevin," Jacey whispered.

Kevin nodded and looked at the intense expressions of those around. He loved Susan and her family. They had come through so much together.

"On three!" he said. "One… two … three."

He pushed his tooth forward and felt agonising pain as the evacuation chamber exploded and disappeared. The last thing he remembered was that Susan's hand wasn't holding his any longer.

*

Kevin felt terrible with the world spinning around, his teeth aching and stomach queasy. Slowly he managed to focus on the surroundings. He was lying on a bed in a small room with pale blue walls and a curtain across the front. A tube was connected to his right arm. He was in some sort of medical room but the various items around looked strange and antiquated.

Beside the bed was a small cabinet with a flask of water and tumbler on top. He lay there for a moment until the nausea subsided before he continued his inspection. A small window showed a hillside of old houses outside while to the left there was a small corkboard with notices attached. They were the usual list of institute instructions and rules but to the left was a black and white calendar with a drawing of a kitten at the top. The month on display was March but the date beside it made him gasp.

It stated 1951!

He spied a red button attached to a tube beside the cabinet so reached out and pressed it. Within seconds, a nurse in white uniform and starched cape rushed in. She stared at him with an astonished look on her face that changed to a smile.

"Hello," she said. "I am Sister Wallace. I see you are awake … err… sorry we have not been able to find out your name."

"Kevin, Kevin Petersen. Where am I?"

"Wellington Hospital. You've been here three days. You were involved in a traffic accident and have been in a coma. I'll get the doctor."

"No wait," Kevin said. "Was there anyone with me? My family…" He stopped and attempted to gather his thoughts. Vague images filtered through his mind of an attractive woman smiling at him. In the background were two younger women and a teenage boy.

Sister Wallace picked up a clipboard attached to the end of the bed, flicked back two pages and read through the first notes. She wrote Kevin's name down after asking him how his surname was spelt and read silently for a moment before glancing up,

"No. You were found unconscious beside the highway, a victim of what the police believe was a hit and run incident. As far as I know, there were no witnesses to the accident and nobody has come forward about it. Police are making inquiries and have asked to speak to you if you regained consciousness." She grimaced. "We thought you might not awaken."

Kevin nodded. "Can I have a drink of water, please?"

"Of course." The nurse poured some from the flask into the tumbler and handed it to him. "Now, if you can tell me the name of your wife or family I'll contact them. They must be worried about you."

Kevin frowned. The vision in his mind sort of quivered and faded, He knew he should know who they were but no name came to him. "I don't know," he gasped. "I can see her in my mind." Panic rose and his voice with it. "Please Nurse Wallace, can you help? The only thing I remember is my name. That's it! Just my name. Nothing else. I don't even know what country I'm in."

Nurse Wallace nodded. "You are in Wellington, New Zealand, Kevin and you speak without any accent so are definitely a New Zealander. Please don't worry about the memory lapse. This often happens in cases like yours. I'm sure everything will come back to you within a few hours." She placed the clipboard back. "I'll get the doctor. He's a specialist and will be able to explain things better than myself."

"Thank you." Kevin lay back and attempted to remember but if anything his memory had faded. What was it that he was thinking about before? Was there a… damn… he had no idea. The taste of blood in his mouth didn't help the situation. He was sure some of his teeth were missing.

*

CHAPTER 1

Travis swung the oversized steering wheel of his pride and joy; a seventy-year-old Jaguar Mark IV saloon that took the loose gravel with ease. Ahead on the narrow winding road was yet another tight corner. He glanced out at the scene to his left. The hillside sloped down a steep valley of native bush to a steam barely visible in the valley below. Ahead, mountain peaks with summer snow still in the shady sections, poked out of the blue sky.

If it wasn't so late in the afternoon and the annoying situation they were in, he would have stopped to admire the view.

"We have definitely made the wrong turn." The young woman beside him swished a strand of red hair out of her eyes. "I knew we should have made that turn fifteen kilometres back." She held up the map on her lap and switched her eyes back to the road. "Slip ahead!"

Her voice rose a little but Travis had already braked. A small mudslide of dirt and foliage covered half the road.

"It's not too bad Jacey," he said. "We won't need the spade again."

Fifteen minutes earlier they had had to shovel debris aside to give them room to squeeze through a gap between a cliff face to the left and an almost vertical drop on the outside. This cross-country orienteering drive for vintage vehicles was proving to be more difficult than he had planned. He grinned to himself as he changed down to low gear and cursed the lack of power steering as he edged the heavy car around the slip.

Jacey pouted as they increased speed a little on a small straight section beyond the slip. "Travis Crichton, why are you grinning? You have to admit that the only thing we'll get out of this contest is the wooden spoon. What's the bet this is a dead end road and we'll have to go all the way back. It'll be midnight before we reach the highway again."

"And who is the navigator Miss Roden?" he replied, imitating the voice of one of her pupils at the local school where she was the principal.

Jacey grinned. "Okay, but none of the side roads we passed are on the map. We just kept going as per the instructions and here we are." She sighed. "At least this Jag hasn't broken down or crashed."

Travis nodded. Earlier, they had passed two stranded cars in the rally, one had a steaming radiator and the second was stuck in a ditch. After stopping to see that the occupants weren't hurt, they had continued on. That was almost three hours ago and the last rally car they'd seen was a cloud of dust in their rear vision mirror about fifteen minutes later.

As they continued up another steep climb, Travis thought back to the two most important things in his life. He had bought the Jaguar three years earlier and had spent most of his spare time since in his garage, renovating it. It had taken longer and cost more than he had ever imagined but it now seemed all-worthwhile.In the first rally entered he had got nowhere but received a commended ribbon for the authenticity and condition of his restored vehicle. More interesting was the offer he that had been made to him by a Japanese investor. It more than doubled the price he had originally paid and even with the money he had used in the renovations, he would have made a great profit. He had though, turned the offer down.

The second and probably more important part of his life was the young woman beside him. Jacey was a little younger than himself and he knew their friendship over three years had grown into something more since meeting at the university where they both were studying for post-graduate degrees. She had succeeded but he'd dropped out. An MA wasn't really necessary for his small electronic business but hers had helped her to win the principal's position at a sort-after school in one of the top suburbs in town.

"Watch out, Travis," Jacey screamed. "Can't you keep your eyes on the road?"

He braked and skidded in the loose gravel on the unexpected sharp corner but again the old vehicle responded well and they were never in any real danger. They reached the top of a saddle and he could see the road winding down into a fog-covered valley below.

"We must be going somewhere," he muttered. "I know most of these roads circle back to the main road."

"You hope!" Jacey retorted, caught his eyes and broke into a smile. "Okay, I'm glad you persuaded me to come rather than attend that dreary teachers' course. The Board of Trustees chairman isn't going to like it, though."

The BOT chairman was in his mid sixties and had grandchildren at the Wakefield Avenue School where she was the principal. The rumour was that he had no other interests and would probably die in the job wasn't far off the truth. However, he was still respected and modern enough to only mumble about but not hinder paying for new technology that modern schools needed.

"Travis!" she interrupted. "Stop day dreaming and keep your eyes on the road."

"Sorry," he muttered. "Just thinking."

"About the car?"

Travis switched his eyes to her. "No, you," he whispered.

She flushed a little and looked away. "Yeah, okay but concentrate on the road, will you?"

"Of course, Miss Roden," he laughed as he swung the car around another tight bend in the road.

*

Ten minutes later they were in a belt of thick fog. Travis slowed and admired the fog lights that he was using for the first time. They cut a low beam across the road ahead whereas the headlights just reflected back and dazzled him. He edged the Jaguar forward and heaved a sigh of relief when they drove out into evening sunshine and a wider road ahead. A few moments later they arrived at a T-junction.

"Which way?" he asked.

Jacey frowned. "Nothing is on the map and there's no reception so I can't find maps on my iPhone." She glanced up. "I'd say take the road to the left. It looks wider than the right hand one."

"I agree." Travis looked to the left. "Funny that there was no road sign. Usually, even on these backcountry roads they have them at the intersections."

"Probably fell down years ago and locals know where to go," Jacey replied.

Ahead, the gravel stopped and they drove onto a, still narrow but sealed road. It curved around the base of the valley with farmland around. Moments later they passed an ancient truck coming in the opposite direction but there was no problem for the road was now wide enough for two vehicles. The driver of the other vehicle gave them a wave as the truck rumbled by.

Travis waved back and grinned when they passed an old but well maintained farmhouse. Power and telephone poles appeared along the roadside. "Civilisation!" he chuckled.

Five minutes later the road become still wider and a county store appeared. It was ancient building with a front veranda. A sign on the top was plastered with a Coca-cola add and the words Valley Store. On the kerb at the front were two ancient Shell gas pumps while further along the road verge was covered in thick clover plants that were beginning to flower. No other vehicles or people were around.

"Good," Travis said. "I think I'll stop for some gas. We've probably got enough to get back but it pays to be careful."

"Probably!" Jacey retorted and leaned over to glance at the fuel gauge that hovered just under the quarter mark.

"There's a full jerrican at the back," Travis said. "It'll probably cost like gold out here but we'll get some anyhow."

"Definitely," Jacey replied.

They pulled in by the pumps and both got out. The store looked deserted and Travis was about to reach for the pump handle when an elderly man wandered out.

"Gidday to you folk," he said. "Don't see many outsiders here this late in the afternoon. I like the flash new car. You from the government, I guess?"

Travis grinned. Flash new car! The old guy had a sense of humour, "Can you full us up, please?" he asked.

The old guy tugged on his unshaven chin. "Don't rightly know. Got your ration coupons?"

Ration coupons? Okay, he was having them on but it was becoming somewhat annoying.

A hand grabbed his arm and he glanced down at Jacey beside him. "Have you still got the original logbook in the Jag?"

Travis nodded. "Yes. It's in the pocket on your side. Why?"

Jacey looked serious. She opened the passenger door and, a moment later produced an old leather bound folder that she opened. From one side she produced an old booklet, opened it and unfolded a page of stamps.

They weren't stamps though but numbered coupons with an official looking government blue circle and writing on them.

The old guy's eyes lit up, "You must be important officials to have that many or did you get them on the black market?"

"How many do you need?" Jacey asked.

"Depends on how much gas you want." He glanced at Travis. "Fill her up, you said?"

Travis nodded and watched while the old pump dial lever swung around and made a ding just before it pointed to the twelve o'clock position. He frowned for he realised that it was registering gallons, not litres that had been used his entire life. He mentally shrugged. No doubt the old guy had some conversion table inside.

A few moments later the tank was full, the man ripped off eight ration coupons and grinned. "Come in," he said. "The good wife and me were having a cuppa tea when you good folk came along. Want one on the house?"

"We'd love one thank you… err …" Jacey replied.

"Tom. Everyone calls me Tom in The Valley." The old man grinned.

"Hi Tom," Jacey said and held out her hand. "I'm Jacey and this is Travis."

Tom looked almost embarrassed as he shook Jacey's hand but gripped his own with a powerful grip. They followed him into a museum type store with stuff everywhere and a long counter across the back. Tom led them through a rear door and into a surprisingly comfortable living area. A chubby woman at a sink turned, wiped her hands on a frilly apron and smiled.

"This is Mavis, me wife. Mavis, meet Travis and Jacey, two government inspectors from the city. Did yah see their car?"

"Most impressive," Mavis replied after she shook both their hands. "But why did you come in from the upper valley?"

"We came over the hill," Travis replied.

"The top saddle?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "You were lost weren't you?"

"A bit," Jacey acknowledged.

"It was closed last winter with a massive wash-out. I thought the county council weren't going to bother reopening South Road." He shrugged, "Looks like they did. Us locals are always the last to find out about what's happening."

Travis frowned. County councils had been abolished and replaced over thirty years before. Everything was now district councils! This was the second strange thing. He was about to reach in his pocket for his credit card to pay the bill when he again felt his arm being squeezed; Jacey caught his eyes and lifted her eyebrows a little.

"I'll pay, Travis," she said. "I need a few groceries and perhaps one of the bags over there." She nodded at a row of colourful cloth bags hanging from a hook.

"They're good value," Mavis said. "One of The Valley ladies makes them herself. We sell quite a few to outsiders."

"Thanks," Jacey said. She selected some grocery items from the shelf behind the counter, added a small box of chocolates and produced some money from her purse to pay Tom.

"Whoa there! That's way too much," he said, took less than half that held out and handed her some change. "We aren't that much dearer than the city, you know?'

"Sorry," Jacey replied.

"So how about that cuppa?" Mavis cut in as she held up a steaming teapot. "Do you have sugar and milk?"

The elderly couple chattered away about the weather and other nondescript items that strangers have in common as Travis sipped his tea and bit into a newly baked bun. He noticed that Jacey looked quite pale and was unusually quiet. Usually she was the chatty one with strangers and he'd follow on. Neither of them mentioned the rally or their trip there. Travis wondered why his partner was so coy but decided to follow her lead and say little. The two shopkeepers did most of the talking and he added a few words here to keep the conversation going.

"Well we must be off," Jacey said a few moments later. "Thanks for the afternoon tea. It was lovely."

"No problem," Mavis said. "On a weekday the locals drop in after the mail arrives and I usually have two or three having a cuppa. In the weekend, though we are usually by ourselves. I told Tom we should shut at noon on Saturday and Sunday but he insists on staying open."

"We're here for more than just the profit, Mavis," Tom replied.

The pair walked out with them, admired the car again and were seen waving in the rear vision mirror as they drove off.

*

"What's with you?" Travis asked. "And don't tell me nothing. Why did you want me to clam up about the rally? Also, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

Jacey glanced across at him and her chin quivered. "Perhaps we have," she whispered,

Travis frowned. "Something's seriously wrong isn't it?"

Jacey nodded. They were travelling past a line of old but well kept houses with cut lawns and well tended gardens. To the right was a building that looked like a closed bank, another closed shop and a tiny church.

"Is the store out of sight?" Jacey asked.

"Yes."

"Look, there's an intersection ahead. If we take two left turns we should be able to go back without passing the store.

"So we end up where we started?"

Jacey nodded. "I don't want that Tom and Mavis to know we're going back up the valley."

Travis slowed at the intersection but nodded at the well formed sealed road that went straight ahead. "But why? There's obviously a better road out of here."

"Bear with me, please," Jacey now looked almost frightened.

He changed down and turned left. This crossroad also had a sprinkling of houses on each side. A man mowing his lawn out the front of one house waved and a couple of children who were pushing a homemade cart stood and just stared as they drove by.

Moments later they made all the other left turns and now turned right into the gravel road beyond the village. It was only when they began ascending the windy road that Jacey relaxed a little,

"We'll reach another belt of fog soon. Don't stop but use our fog lights again."

Again Travis frowned. It was now after eight but in mid-summer there was still an hour or so of daylight but the sun had disappeared beyond the western hills. There was not even the slightest sign of any fog.

That was until he drove the car around another tight bend. Ahead was a blanket of fog that, if anything looked thicker than the one they'd come through on the way in.

"How did you know?" he gasped as he slowed to a crawl and switched on the fog lights.

"Just keep going. Don't stop!"

The fog swirled around but the fog lights gave enough light for him to be able to drive up the centre of the road and navigate two more S-type bends, The temperature dropped so quickly he reached across and turned on the heater; these old cars were designed well before air-conditioning was in vogue. The whine of the fan heater jolted him out of a lethargic feeling that he realised was overcoming him. He glanced at Jacey who was holding onto the dashboard so tightly her knuckles were white and appearing to keep her eyes open.

Suddenly they were out of the fog, a ray of sunlight shone through a gap in the hills and Jacey burst into shuddering tears. "We made it!" she cried and turned to him with tears running down her cheeks. "Thank you for trusting me. It's okay now. We're back!"

"From where?" Travis asked.

Jacey smiled and reached for another tissue. "Pull over and let me drive for a while. I need to do something rather than just sit here and think."

A moment later Travis sat in the passenger seat and watched Jacey drive. She handled the heavy car well and her confidence and bubbly personality returned.

"So you were thinking about the village and what happened?" he asked after a few moments of silence while Jacey concentrated on driving down the windy road.

"Yes but it's what I don't remember is what worries me."

*

CHAPTER 2

It wasn't until the next weekend that Travis had time to think about their trip again. He decided to examine the Jaguar with an electronic radar detector that he had adapted himself to find signals well beyond the normal frequencies the police used. Within two minutes he received the beeping signal to show something was there.

He grimaced after he traced it to the front wheel and pulled out a magnetic object from the caked mud under the fender. He cleaned the object and sighed. This was a tracer transmitter used by police or military to follow a vehicle under surveillance.

"What is it, Travis?"

He jumped in fright and swung around to see Jacey standing there.

"Somebody has stuck this tracer on our car. It's very ordinary but also adds to the mystery."

Jacey raised her eyebrows. "Why?"

"Why would anybody be interested in following our Jag?"

Jacey shrugged. "Competitors maybe. You know how fanatical they can be about these rallies. Old Leon looked so grim when you took out the speed section I was sure he was going to file an official complaint."

"He did," Travis replied. "Reckoned he was ahead of us on the Ridge Road section of the course and there was no way we could have beaten him along the valley."

"So we have to give the cup back?"

"No, the committee agreed that we had had the demerit points taken into account for not having Checkpoint 8 sticker but we still won." He grinned. "Someone on that point backed us up by saying we stopped at the point but forgot to get a checkpoint sticker."

"But we didn't?"

"No but I seem to remember glancing at a check point just after we returned through the fog. We had so much on our mind that I really forgot about the race. Old Leon is not very popular and I'm sure many club members were glad we beat him. Anyway, his appeal was turned down."

Travis grinned and slipped the tracer onto the Subaru Forester across their garage. "Now if he or whoever it is will have fun tracing you to school and around the supermarkets all next week."

Jacey grinned. "Only for a week, though."

"Sure!"

"But there's nothing else?"

Travis shrugged. "Don't think so but I'll finish my check. I've covered the outside and engine compartment. I'll run it over the interior."

With Jacey helping he ran his detector over the interior. Most of this was new so he didn't expect to find anything. However, when he ran it under the driver's seat that Jacey happened to be sitting on, the detector gave off a high-pitched screech signifying a powerful electronic signal. She gave a gasped and jumped out of the car. When she did the screeching stopped.

She stared at him with wide eyes. "Did I cause that scream?"

"Seems like it. Sit back on the seat."

"And if it blows up?"

Travis laughed. "If it was going to do that it would have happened the other day, wouldn't it?"

"I guess," Jacey muttered and sat back in the driver's seat.

Immediately, the detector began screeching again. Obviously the weight of somebody sitting on the driver's seat activated it. He turned the screeching off and bent down to examine the seat. The covers had been completely redone in authentic leather copied from original plans but beneath were the original framework and springs. He would have to take the seat apart.

Half an hour later with the seat removed, the leather cover unstitched and the interior padding that was also new, removed he came to the frame. He remembered that the old springs had also been replaced so there was little of the original seat left. Even the lower part of the round tubing framework had been replaced where it had rusted out. Only the top section and the part of the frame where the springs were attached were original. He switched on his detector with the volume turned down so it would only work when close to a source. Nothing!

"Sit on the driver's seat, Jacey," he said.

She did and immediately gasped for the detector began that screech again when he passed it over the rear frame right beneath where her bottom pushed down on the springs. But there was nothing there!

"It must be inside the steel tube those springs are joined to" Jacey said.

Travis examined the frame and nodded. The welding at the corner had a bubbly part that had not been smoothed off. These old cars were assembled manually and the craftsmen took pride in their expertise. There was no way that this welding was original.

With excitement rising, he took a power saw and gently cut around through the welded section. It gave a faint pop after he cut through and pried the tube apart. It was about two centimetres in diameter and was hollow. He brought his electric spotlight up and squinted inside. About ten centimetres in was the silver top of an object.

"Something's there," he gasped. "But how will we get it out?"

"Try this," Jacey said and handed him one of his long screwdrivers.

This was a high quality one with a magnetic end to help grip steel screws. He lowered it down the tube and gave a gasp of satisfaction as he felt it clunk onto metal. It took several attempts to wiggle it out but finally a long object about the size of a ballpoint pen was extracted. It had a tiny object that looked like a band-aid wrapped around the top end.

"A pressure pad," he said as he held it out for Jacey to see, "When you sat on the seat your weight would have pushed it down."

"Inside a steel frame?" Jacey queried.

She was right. How could it work inside steel tubing? He looked back in the tube and found a rubbery coating around the inside that certainly wasn't original. "I think it was activated by air pressure. That pop we heard must have been the gas inside escaping. Somehow your weight increased the pressure inside and this pressure pad turned it on. When he pushed the pad with his fingers his detector began screeching.

"Put it back," Jacey whispered.

"Why?"

"Without it we'll never be able to find that fog again."

"No. I'll take the whole section of tube out and replace it with a new bit. I want to examine this thing." He was curious about the electronics involved, especially since it had probably been placed there years before modern devices had even been invented. He held it in his closed fist and squeezed. Again his detector screeched but stopped when he released the pressure.

Jacey stared at him. "If you try to open it, our access to that valley could be lost. Leave it intact, Travis, Promise!"

She was right. It would be foolish to tamper with it. "Agreed," He glanced around at the disassembled seat. "I'd better get this all put together, too."

Jacey grinned. "Afterwards," she said. "I came out to tell you that lunch was ready. The soup will be cold by now."

*

At seven on Sunday morning there was knock on the door. They both walked to the door that Jacey opened. Outside were two police officers and a man in a dark suit who held out an official looking badge. He muttered his name and began talking.

"This is the residence of Mr Travis Crichton and you are Ms Jacey Roden?" he asked.

"We are," Travis replied. "What's wrong?"

"You are joint owners of a 1948 Jaguar motor vehicle?"

Travis nodded.

"We are confiscating the vehicle for examination as we believe it is illegally modified and contains classified equipment. Please hand over the keys so one of the constables here can drive it away." He smiled but there was no warmth in the movement. "Alternatively, we can bring in a tow truck."

"And your court order?" Jacey snapped in a stern school principal voice that made Travis stare at her.

"I am Major Hilton McBride from the UNSC," the man replied with his own voice like ice and held out his badge again.

Jacey took the badge and examined it. There was an official crest on it and the man's photo, rank and name. Around the edge were the words United Nations Security Council while on the back was a serial number. She handed it back.

"You have no jurisdiction in this country, Major McBride," she replied. "Bring us a court order and you can examine our Jaguar. Please leave."

Travis would have probably gone along with them but knew that one did not cross Jacey when she was annoyed. He also noticed one of the constables behind the major grin while the man scowled.

"We will have it in the morning," he hissed.

"You do that," Jacey retorted. "Tomorrow, I shall be making an official complaint through my lawyer on our rights being infringed at this ungodly hour on a Sunday morning." She glanced at the two constables. "I bid good morning to you all," she added and closed the door with a clunk.

"You told them," Travis said.

"Yeah. Pompous bastard," she replied as they glanced through the kitchen window and saw a silver BMW and police car drive away. No doubt he's the one who had the tracer put on the Jag." She turned to face him. "But where's the other one we found?"

"In my desk. I thought it was too important to leave in the garage."

"Good," Jacey replied. "I'll take it to school later and place it in the school safe. If they arrive back tomorrow and I've no doubt that they will, their surveillance equipment may find it."

"So the plot thickens," Travis replied.

"Yes and I trust nobody, least of all that major from that command I've never heard of before."

Travis nodded. "It's genuine, I can vouch for that. I'll check it out on the internet if you like."

Jacey shook her head. "Don't bother. We just have to be very careful, that's all. "

*

CHAPTER 3

Travis sighed after he examined the seat frame that he had welded. Even after smoothing, it would look as if it had just been done.

"Damn," he muttered to himself for the last thing he wanted was to give any indication that he had meddled with the Jaguar.

Jacey, as usual on a Sunday had gone back to school to catch up with work so for a few hours he was on his own. He bolted the seat back and decided to take a trip across town to the car wreckers where he had found many items when restoring the vehicle. Now if they had a seat he could replace the whole thing. It wouldn't be too hard to add the new leather covers.

Jacey had taken the Forester so he took the Jaguar itself and twenty minutes later drove into the Xotic Parts, the wreckers. As usual on a Sunday it was reasonably busy with teenagers and guys like himself wandering around the rows or wrecks and through the shed piled high with all manner of automobile parts. To a stranger, it looked one gigantic jumble but Paddy Singleton, the owner knew where anything and everything was.

After Travis climbed out of the Jaguar and ambled across to the office, Paddy greeted him.

"Hello there, Travis," he said. "Your Jag looks pretty posh, if I do say so meself. Last time I saw it, it looked like a piebald horse."

Travis grinned. "Took me six coats of the finest lacquer, not to count the undercoats to get it looking how it is now."

Paddy dropped a cigarette he was smoking to the bare wooden floor and squashed it with his boot. "So what can I get yah?"

Travis explained and the old guy nodded. "Only got seats for the newer models but they could be adapted." He grinned. "You'd want the genuine original though, I reckon."

"If possible."

Paddy ran a hand over his stubble. "Want a whole car?" he asked.

"A Mark IV like this one?" In spit of himself Travis was interested then thought about it. "If it's renovated it'll cost fifty grand and I can't spend another five years redoing another wreck." He shrugged. "Couldn't afford it either."

"Nope. It's pretty original and still goes. An old farmer out of town died and his widow is selling it off. She brought it in here but my offer was too low for her."

"So she's out to get a high price?"

"Not necessarily. Offer her three thousand and I reckon she'd take it. Hurry though, once those used car jokers get wind of it, one of them buy it for two grand, drive it to their lot and sell it for ten." He grinned. "Or more to you vintage guys."

*

An hour later Travis drove into a modest looking farm property after ringing the owner of the car Paddy had mentioned. As he stopped the car, an elderly woman came out of the house.

"I'm Susan Westly," she said and held out a frail hand. "You're the gentleman who rang?"

Travis introduced himself, shook her hand and made a few casual comments about the weather.

"My late husband's Jaguar is in the implement shed. I'll take you over," she replied.