THE HAUNTING PAST THE SIDE BAR TRIPS

THE HAUNTING PAST THE SIDE-BAR TRIP Sure enough, that was SUPPOSED to be the plan. Once Tami and I departed the Egyptian artifact case (while leaving behind a HEATED debate, over whether Christians, or "heathens", had sailed, to the America's, first). To hear Mr. Brown say it, it was a "mere" one hundred miles, off of our projected course, to pick up the package. At this time, Tami and I were, still, growing accustomed to how quiet Ghost Ship Two's engines were. This "bird" was so sleek that it seemed that "she" just skimmed through the air. During the flight, Tami went through her personal e-mail, learning that her mother remained hopeful that Tami and I would begin dating, in the near future (if not, already). By contrast, since I had no one I was, really, close to, I spent my time reviewing footage, of the raging debate (with headphones, ofcourse). It would seem that most of those people, who were opposed to the concept, of pre-Columbian, Trans-Atlantic, travel, were the people who were saying "So what?! So you have a boat, and a few writings. WHERE is the REST of your supporting evidence?" When proponents countered this with "I do believe that, even if we produced a pyramid, you would maintain the position of "WHERES your proof?" Opponents maintained that the finding was "false", since there was no other, obvious evidence, of Egyptian life, in the America's. One opponent even said "So, you have a boat, and some scrolls. WHERE is the REST of your proof? Show me pots, dishes, cups, etc. If you want me to believe, show me an Egyptian village, located on American soil". The only part I found truly funny was when an opponent was challenged with "WHY was Columbus believed, when he said he had sailed around the world? Why didn't skeptics, at that time, say "WHERE is your proof?" On-board Ghost Ship Two, I had to switch the connection off. It was the same old debate, which had RAGED, for CENTURIES. While Christians believed that saying "ON my faith, as a good Christian..." was all the "proof" they needed, these same people insisted that all opponents, to the Christian view, of life, were required to provide in-disputable PROOF. Opponents did this, knowing, full well, that such "proof" would be nearly impossible to find, especially after the passage of tens of thousands of years. Yet, while some opponents were asking "How do you Christians know, for a fact, that the Garden of Eden actually existed? Where is your PROOF? What are the coordinates, of the garden?" The religious were silent. Like I said, the same old debate. Fortunately, by the time I tuned out, of the debate, and Tami closed her family e-mail, Ghost Ship Two had clearance for landing, and for pick-up, of our package. I wil, never, cease to be amazed at how soft, and quiet, modern aircraft are, upon landing. For example: With G.S. 2, during either take-off, or landing, Tami and I, hardly felt a thing. Then, there was that "Ground Speed Sensor" thing, which, when our landing gear deployed, the sensor rotated the wheels, just fast enough to avoid the old fashioned screech, of tires touching pavement. With Ghost Ship Two, the landing was pure silence, even as the tires touched the runway. After a short "taxi", G.S.2 stopped in front of a hangar, where we would await the arrival of this "package", which we were to pick up. Although the instructions were for the package to be waiting for us, about fifteen minutes passed, prior to the packages arrival. This is why the pilots shut down the engines. To conserve fuel. It would be two HOURS, after arrival, the package would be hand-delivered, by a carrier, who seemed in an awful rush. When we accepted the package, Tami, barely, had time to put pen to the form, registering receipt, of the package, when the messenger rushed away, saying "Thats good enough". When Tami and I took the package inside the plane, and strapped it down, then tried the intercom, informing the pilots that we were ready for lift-off, yet there was no answer. In fact, first Tami, then myself, noticed that none, of the stand-by indicators were lit. When Tami and I walked to the bridge, we found the pilots cross-checking every system. When we asked "Whats going on?" The pilots would say "Total power loss. We are trying to locate the source, right now" When the co-pilot would say "I just dont understand it. Everything was fine, when we landed. Why wont the girl work, now?" When the local air national guard brought out some batteries, to "jump-start" G.S. 2, the techs promised that the batteries were "fully charged", before the leads were connected to our plane. Within moments, though, the batteries went dead, right after the leads were connected to G.S.2. When Tami and I pondered this, for a moment, considering the events, which lead up to the power loss, Tami would say "Nothing has changed, since we landed. Everything remains in place". When I asked "Are you sure?" Tami would say "The only thing, which is "different" is that the package is, now, on-board". When I would look at her, and Tami would say "You dont think..." I would say "Lets try it, and see what happens". When Tami and I, together, lifted the package, and walked out of Ghost Ship Two, we noticed that the package seemed heavier than it had been, when we took it into the plane. The question was "HOW could that be?" When we labored to carry the package behind a nearby shack, and sat the package on the ground, then strolled back, to Ghost Ship Two, we would be surprised when, moments after our arrival, at the plane, the power was restored, and the systems began re-booting. When we contacted the pilots, via the comm, both men said "I dont understand. We lost ALL power, yet for no visible reason.. Now, power is restored. The Air Force Chief of Staff is NOT going to like this report". When Tami asked me "You dont think?" and I would ask the pilots "Mind if we try something?" The pilots would say "Why not? This is YOUR plane". When Tami and I departed the plane, and walked behind the shack, to retrieve the package, we found it odd that the package was, now, light enough for Tami to carry, on her own. With a baffling look, between us, Tami and I returned the package, to Ghost Ship Two. Shortly after entry, though, when Tami placed the package on top of our scanner table, the plane, suddenly, lost all power, again. A moment later, Tami asked me "Do you feel that?" I wasn't sure WHAT I was feeling, but our pilot, soon, let out a curse, loud enough to be heard throughout the plane as he said "Not again". This, even as the co-pilot would say "Nothing wrong, here". When Tami and I went to pick up the package, Tami noticed the increased weight, even as she asked me to help her carry the package. (Again, the package seemed much heavier, coming out of the plane.) This time, Tami suggested that we simply place the package on the ground, at the edge of the tarmac. Shortly after setting the heavy package down, and returning to the plane, we watched as, again, the systems re-booted. When the pilot came to us, asking "What is that thing?" Tami would say "I dont know, but its just too dangerous to fly, with it on-board the plane." When Tami contacted the Brown Agency, via comm-link, and reported on recent events, Mr. Brown, Mr. Blue, and Mr. Black, all agreed that ground transportation would be safest, for whatever this thing was. Tami would add the suggestion, of an armoured car. Preferrably a model from the age before electronic fuel injection. (No one was surprised by the agency request, that we remain on-site, until the armoured car arrived). Though we MIGHT have expected a Pinkerton's truck, we would be surprised when a medical equipment truck, designated for nuclear material, drove up, to the plane, later, and the driver gave us the code word, which the agency had told us to expect. When Tami asked the truck driver "Why a medical vehicle?" The driver said "Lead lined walls. It is about as "easy" to drive, as a tank, however, the lead lining SHOULD contain your package." When Tami and I carried the package, to the trucks rear doors, we realized the reason why the truck was so massive. This truck had walls thick enough to shield contents from a nuclear blast. After the package was locked, behind the lead walls, the driver signed off, on receipt, saying "Give me 48-72 hours, for travel time. This "thing" has all of the "pick up" of a turtle". All Tami and I cared about was returning to base, and HOPING that our next case would be a regular, ghost, case. Back, at the Brown Agency, Tami and I noticed that we were not the only agents being recruited, to study the package. It would seem that Mr. Blacks entire tech department was on-hand, as well as Mr. Blues entire team. Although a tech, in a bomb squad suit, was able to open the package, and show us the interior, of the package, no-sooner did we see something, which no one, present, recognized, but, moments after the package was opened, all the power went out. And not just in the lab, either. It seems that the entire building lost power. When Mr. Black gave the tech the hand signal, for "close it", and the tech closed the package, everyone, present, was amazed when, just about three minutes, AFTER the lid was closed, the buildings power came back on-line (In a repeat of what had happened to G.S.2.) When Mr. Brown asked "Did the client happpen to mention WHERE this thing came from?" The secretary would, only, say "The client reports that their children found the package, while playing, and outdoors, exploring." then added "We were contacted when, without warning, or reason, the clients home electricity ceased to function. The report says that the power was not restored, until the package was lugged, or dragged, out of the house, and into a nearby shed." When Tami asked "Did the shed happen to have a dirt floor?" The secretary would say "I have no idea, but I may inquire, of the contact." When Mr. Brown would ask those assembled "Any thoughts, or theories?" Mr. Black would say "An observation. Any time this "thing" is around electronics, or wiring, it would appear that it drains all energy, for its use. The only time it appears to be in-active is when, such as present, the "thing" is resting, on a pile of dirt" When Mr. Blue would ask "What about the delivery van? Why didn't it stall out?" Mr. Black would suggest "The package was contained within thick, lead, walls." When Mr. Brown cast a questioning look, Mr. Black would suggest "Lead is an Earth element. The truck, like the soil, in the observation room, are made of Earth elements. I would suggest that Earth elements cause that "thing" to either "power down", or dissipate its power". When Mr. Brown would ask "Proof?" Mr. Black would instruct the tech, in the bomb suit, "While leaving the package in the pile of dirt, open the cover, for just a moment". To everyones surprise, the contents were dark, as though powered down. When Mr. Brown would say "Analysis?" Mr. Black would say "We do not dare use our equipment, on the object. I suggest filing off samples, to place under examination". When the samples were taken, the tech, inside the lab, would report the faintest glow, eminating from within the package. Similar to friction, trying to power the device up. Just as everyone feared, though, the filings did not match any minerals, or metals, found on Earth. When Mr. Blacks team was left to ponder the "thing", Tami and I would be asked to review what Mr. Brown called "Something similar to the Hatfields and McCoys". Mr. Brown provided us with the case file, and a conference room, in which to examine the file. Tami and I agreed on one thing, atleast. Since the file stated that two, seperate, groups, of spirits, were "shooting" at one another, and that, spectral or not, each gun-shot was leaving a very REAL mark, in the landscape, Tami and I were willing to leave this case to others. As Tami and I agreed "Its bad enough being attacked, by the unknown, but bullets?" When Tami asked Mr. Brown "Just WHERE would REAL spirits find live ammunition?" Mr. Brown would, only, say "One, of many, questions". Questions, we didn't mind. Conversing with the deceased? We were okay with that. Chasing, and being chased by, "monsters"? We could live with that. Being shot to death? Not high on either of our priority's lists. While waiting for a non-lethal case to come along, Tami and I did agree to investigate the case of a woman, in a trailer park, who claimed she was being sexually asaulted, by an "un-seen force". The file claimed that the only thing the woman knew, about her attacker, was that it was a male. What the file DID contain was the caution "Subject has a LONG history, of substance abuse". When Tami and I visited the area, where the woman lived, in the hope of finding something "concrete", concerning all that we had learned, from both police, and the womans neighbors, about the only thing Tami and I learned was that the woman was NO "reformed" addict. It would seem that everyone Tami and I spoke with, said it was easy to tell when the woman was "using". As far as to how the intruder gained access, to the trailer, without breaking in, again, there was mutual agreement, among the community, that the woman was, often, so stoned that she did not even remember to close, or lock, her trailer door. After being cautioned, by the womans neighbors, Tami and I entered the womans trailer. Tami's concern was that the neighbors were correct. The woman did not even remember to lock her door. As for the interior, of the trailer, Tami and I were not surpised, at what we found. Just as locals had said, the woman was "too far gone", to care. Tami and I could only stand the interior, of the trailer, for a few moments, before we felt the urge to leave. As we departed the trailer, the lot owner said "Told you. Thats why Im puttin her out. Her electric has not been on, in months, and I dont even think that woman has had a real bath, in months. With this information in hand, Tami and I began our stake-out. Thankfully, it was not long before the facts of the case, came to "light". Maybe, the woman did not take actual showers, however, she did "borrow" a neighbors garden hose, and what looked like laundry soap, to shower with. Tami was not surprised when several, local, boys, stopped by, to watch the woman "bathe". After the woman was "clean", she snatched some clothes, from a laundry line, in another yard, then left the area, just before a patrol car stopped by. When the woman returned to her trailer, later that evening, Tami agreed that, as stoned as the woman, obviously, was, an attacker could chop the woman to pieces, long before she realized she was being attacked, and murdered. It was, maybe, an hour, after the womans return, to her trailer, that a man, in a suit, and overcoat, stopped by the womans trailer. When Tami and I crept close enough, to hear what was going on, we found out where the "light show", and "ghost" really came from. The woman was so far out-of-touch, with reality, that, once her "guest" got un-dressed, all he had to do was whisper the suggestion "Look at all the sparkling lights", into the womans ear. While the "action" was going on, Tami and I recorded enough, of the "proceedings", to make sure that the man, whomever he was, could be convicted. After all of this, I had to embrace Tami, for a moment, as she shivered at the thought of "She is so far gone, she would have believed him if he said "I am God"" Shortly after Tami and I made our preliminary report, to the local police, and a police cruiser, and an ambulance, were sent, to the trailer, the paramedics verified that everyone was too late. The woman was dead. While the police searched for physical evidence, of the cause of death, Tami and I found it, in some video, from a camera we had planted (as a precaution). It seems that the man, in an effort to save himself, had not only gotten the woman stoned, again, but, this time, he "put her out", permanently. Neither Tami, nor I, could believe that the man could kill just by saying "Look at the shining gates. Paradise lies beyond. An eternity of peace. Why not walk inside". After the woman had exhaled her final breath, and the man made sure her pulse was gone, he whispered something I wont repeat, in this report. When we reported in, to the Brown Agency, staff confirmed that this kind of death is called "hypnotic suggestion", while Tami had an even simpler name, for the process: Murder. The problem was that, with no weapon, or visible struggle, there was nothing to tie the man, a corporate administrator, to the crime. He would walk away, without so much as an interview. Now that the woman was dead, the lot owner would have the womans trailer towed away. By the time Tami managed to trace the lot rent payments, through various front companies, the executive would have placed enough "protection", around himself, that the law could not touch him. Add to this that there was no evidence, of "foul play", and the corporation could not be charged, either. Tami did make note, for the file, that the last time anyone saw the executive, he had boarded a corporate jet, flew a few hundred miles, then landed, switched to a private car. The man was clever enough NOT to even use a modern car, either. As for his victim, the woman, it seems that her family was so ashamed, of her, that the family had cut all ties, with the woman, years ago. And it was no wonder. A fine family, of Southern Baptists. Fine homes, cars, private school educations, proper community involvement. True preparation for up-and-coming leaders. The womans mother would tell Tami and I "From childhood, that girl seemed to hate everything this family stood for. She wasted so much time, away from home. After she ended up, in a homeless shelter, twice, we realized there was little which could be done. Every time she was dragged into detox, the process involved triple the normal time, Finally, we just had to give up on her. We had the full support, of the church, and the community, when we abandoned her, to live her own life. As our preacher said "A parent can only do so much, for a child. After that, the child must be set free". Still, despite the fact that the woman had made her own choices, and decisions, her mother seemed full of remorse, even asked she asked Tami "You are a woman. WHAT more could I have done, for my baby girl?" Tami would suggest that the woman focus on her remaining, adult, children. Those, who had turned out, as planned. When the womans other daughter joined us, saying "Mother, you should come inside, now." Then telling Tami and I "We thank you for the news". (Even the young womans eyes were full of remorse). Maybe the family did not wear their feelings on their sleeves, but their eyes spoke the "volumes" which their voices did not. As Tami and I departed the property, Tami would ask me "I wonder if my own family felt the same way, when I went my own way?" I would only say "Based upon the way the family has accepted you, back, I would say your family thinks a LOT of you" Tami would add "If only my mother would stop trying to marry me off." (Tami just hoped that I could not read her thoughts). Thankfully, by the time Tami and I concluded this case review, the Brown Agency had another case, for us. This would appear to be a case of disturbed remains, or relics. It would seem that a land survey, funded by a group, hoping to build a new casino, had turned up some pieces of clay pots, and a couple of sharpened stones. It would seem that, when the finds were sent in, for analysis, a group, of archeologists, appearred, on the construction site, and placed construction work on hold, while the area was being excavated. IF the contact information was correct, the "disturbances" started after what were reported as "pieces" of funeral gear, were excavated, and removed from the site, for analysis. Now, it seems that people, in VERY OLD clothing, were being sighted, around the dig. Tami's hope, for a simple "Visualize and Verify" went "out the window", when the report contained claims that some, of the "visitors", were actually asking workers questions. Questions such as "What are you doing here?" and "Why are you here?" Local police had started their own investigation, by checking costume rental stores, and fabric stores, to find out if anyone had rented costumes, or purchased material, with which to make costumes. Even the police investigation, of the internet, turned up "dry", for ORDERS of goods. When the police set up security, around the site, some of the patrol officers not only reported visuals, of the "visitors", but, in atleast two cases, "visitors" had gotten rough, with officers, while demanding to know "WHY are you disturbing my resting place?" Police were reporting that, in the seconds, between cuffing suspects, and opening cruiser doors, that hand-cuff's had fallen, loose, in officers hands. The "visitors" were nowhere to be seen. Since no one else WANTED to investigate the dig site, the file had landed at the Brown Agency, and its "Resident Ghost-Busters". Due to the fact that the contact file stated that the requested information was for Tami and I to find out if the "haunting" was "real", and, IF so, WHO was behind it, as well as the reason for the haunt. If the file was correct, the reason, for the haunt, would be obvious. Although local citizens had been petitioning local government, for many years, asking for factory jobs, the only money, which would be approved, for investment, would be for the construction of the latest resort. Something called an "Interplanetary" resort. According to a booklet, enclosed in the file, it would seem that the resorts restaurants, and guest rooms, were listed, in the designs, to be on the upper levels. Inside some kind of spheres, which would be constructed to resemble the planets, of this solar system. The main floors would be devoted, completely, and solely, to gambling. When Tami and I presented our primary report, Mr. Brown would say "I agree. WAY too much money going into the gambling, with NOTHING to show for it, in the local economy". On our flight, to the area, Tami expressed her concerns, especially over the "vanishing visitors". The people who, allegedly, escaped hand-cuffs. Tami wondered if these stories were a cover, for escaped prisoners, or if the stories were just fire-side tales. Something to give the site additional mystery, or even mystique? When Tami reviewed the law, concerning the filing of false police reports, and viewed the penalties, of same, she just could not see anyone, risking so much, just for fire-side stories. When Ghost Ship Two touched down, near the site, it would seem that we landed in the middle of what some would consider an "attack". While the archeologists were running for their lives, un-seen attackers were hurtling arrows into the air. Thankfully, our prototype ships designers had placed anti-radar, and anti-debris, covers, over the engines intakes. Our plane also had windows, which could withstand 88 milimeter rounds. What neither Tami nor I, nor even our pilots, could figure out was the reason why our infrared sensors were not tracking the body heat, from the attackers. Sure, our equipment was experimental, but our infrared had never failed, before. To view the scene, it was as if there was no one behind the arrows. This is why Tami and I agreed with the pilots. "Arrows do not shoot themselves. There MUST be someone out there". Since there were neither thermal, nor movements, to activate our automatic defenses, the pilots placed the guns under manual control, then deployed the cannons. When five arrows flew at the guns, our pilot, calmly, said "Lets see what happens when we fire back". It would seem that a three second burst, from our cannons, was all that was needed, to end the "attack". As to WHO the "attackers" were, even Tami and I stepped off the plane, expecting a "thank you", for ending the fight, only to receive a reprimand of "I hope you didn't destroy more, of the find". To everyones relief, our retired, air force, pilots were experienced enough to fire just above the "deck", leaving the site intact, while sending rounds crashing into the wall, of a creek, beyond. When the archeology team leader saw the results, and mentioned "I am impressed", the air force pilots would say "We aim to please". Yes, the air, around the dig site, was "charged", with energy, for a few minutes, no doubt with the residual velocity, of the cannon shells, however, aside from this, the site did not seem damaged. This is when Tami, myself, and our pilots, came forward, asking the team "What was that?" When the team leader would ask "What do you mean?" Our pilot spelled it out. "We had to fire our guns, manually, since there was no thermal, or motion, for our gunnery sensors, to lock onto". When the team leader would say "I really do not know WHAT you are talking about". Our pilot would ask "Arrows do not launch themselves. WHO was firing?" This question was met with silence. Instead, the team returned to its work, collecting, cleaning, and storing, the artifacts, even as Tami would point out "All of these household goods, which you are packing. Isn't that, alone, some sign of both intelligence, and community?" The team leader would respond "It might", then they went on, cataloging the finds. Tami knew something was wrong when, as a worker called "Take a look at this", and the team leader would bark at the workers "Stay at your stations!" Even to the un-trained eyes, of Tami and myself, the find was in beautiful condition. It was even decorated, with a painting. When the team leader dismissed the find, as if it was just junk, or, in the leaders words: "Oriental knock off", Tami took a closer look, and agreed with the site worker. The find WAS significant. When Tami and I returned to our plane, Tami ran a web-search, on the team leader. She wanted to know how the man could dis-regard such finds. According to the internet search, the man had a significant drug, and alcohol, problem. That is, atleast until a rich person met them, and dumped the man into detox. According to rumor/gossip, when the rich person found the man living in a one room place, the rich person had taken notice of how he had categorized everything, in his "world". The rich person realized that such a man could be of use, in the rich persons business. Since the rich person was into land development, and the man had a passion, for reading, the man had been supplied with enough textbooks, that the man never had time, to think about vice. In the time, since the mans release, from detox, it seems the rich person kept him busy, taking a staff from site to site, categorizing anything, which the rich person felt was "significant". It would seem, though, that the rich person had a CLEAR definition, of what "significant" meant. It meant financial value. The only finds, which the man would recognize, were those which would bring a profit, at auction. When Tami and I agreed, with the actual workers, of the team, on the issue that other finds deserved the same respect, as the "valuable" ones, and we offered to allow the team to use Ghost Ship Two, for temporary storage, of these finds, even I was, truly, amazed that the site leader made no objections. In fact, all he did, with what he found, was to clear enough soil, to expose potential value. In fact, the only two "finds" which the man officially, noted, were the golden knives, which were found, and which had gemstones mounted into their handles. What puzzled all of us was how the man kept silent, about the stone foundation, which was found in one section, of the site. The foundation was about nine inches below grade, yet it stood three feet tall, with squared corners, and the remains of a wooden door. I know it was, probably just imagination, however, I just felt weird, in the space. I felt like a person would feel when they were trespassing on another persons space, even as the team dug out the foundation. This, even as the teams generator failed, and computer batteries drained. When flashlights were tested, they, too, failed to operate. Then, there was the sound. A sound which the team leader insisted was "Just the wind". Still, the sound did resemble human moaning. Athough I am not certain of the exact connection, however, as the team leader told his workers "I want this thing cleaned, and documented, BY tonight. This way, it can be demolished, tomorrow morning." Within moments of this "address", a mist rose from the ground, and a body began to form. When the face formed, the "eyes", seemed to bore right through the team leader, who had been ordering workers back into the pit, even as the mist appearred. When a muscular, male, body, formed, from the mist, and a growl was emitted, the man laughed as he told the mist "Nice try. I have been around men, twice your size, and several times uglier. If they did not scare me, why should you?" While the other worker stood well away, the team leader climbed into the pit, and stood right in front of the "man". When the team leader crossed his arms, and announced "Whatcha gonna do?", seconds later, an arm, as strong as a tree, lifted the man into the air, and tossed him across the site, where he landed in a pile of bumps and bruises. When the "man" turned to the other workers, and even Tami and I THOUGHT we "heard" the "man" say "Out!", the workers scrambled out of the pit, even as my partner decided it was time she did her "thing". When Tami climbed into the pit, asking the "man" "Was this your home? Maybe your burial place?" When the "man" turned to Tami, eyes flashing a burning red color, Tami would remark "Very impressive, sir, however, I am wondering WHO you are, and WHY you are here". (I remain certain that Tami could calm an erupting volcano, just by talking to it). When the burning red eyes changed to a deep blue, Tami would remark "What beautiful, deep, blue eyes. May I see more?" The man seemed to consider this, then waived his hands, about the area, as if to say "This is all I have". When Tami asked "Would you like to meet, over by the black bird, over there?" (indicating Ghost Ship Two), the man bowed, then gestured "lead the way". The man DID "ask" Tami to have the diggers move elsewhere. He did not want his privacy disturbed, anymore than it already was. When Tami relayed the request, to the team, they seemed happy to comply. When the three of us reached G.S.2, the man showed us "images", of his life. Images of farming, when not off, soldiering. Images of building his wife her dream home, and of her raising their children. He showed images, of how he had built the "small" places, of stone, as his private place. It seems this was the place where his spirit rested. It was no wonder he did not want people disturbing the site. In another set, of images, the man showed his grown children, leaving home, then his wife, taken by illness. After her death, he had lost the will to live. When Tami asked the man "Did anyone else live nearby?"" The man showed us more images. This time, of fiends, and neighbors. He, also, showed us some sort of community workshop, where men banded together, to repair items, build tools, and to share some ale, at the end of the work-day. Once Tami got a good look, at the images, and asked the man "Would your friends be upset if the team digs on their sites?" The man showed us the image of a not very large man. A man who, when another man invaded his private space, and laughed at the smaller mans dis-comfort, and order, to LEAVE, it seems that "big and powerful" were no match for the smaller mans sheer determination. Small man pummelled "big and powerful", then dumped the big man outside the area. After that point, no one dared enter the small mans place, without being invited. When Tami went to thank the man, then added "I know not your name, or your title." The spirit "said" "Delcon Maximillian". When I bowed to the spirit, out of respect, and then Tami made an un-expected curtsey, Maximillian bowed, to us, then dissolved. When Tami downloaded a geological map, of the area, then placed the drawings, of delcons visions, over the map, she would say "This is what we can expect to find, at each location. There will be a large workshop, at this point, and it is "surrounded" by several, smaller, spaces. Each space was its builders private space, or "man-cave", if you will". She, then pointed to the small mans space, cautioning "Although I think we should excavate THIS location, we should dig ONLY far enough to verify that the space is present." When one of the workers asked "Why not go all the way down?" Tami would say "The man this space belonged to has very little patience, with intruders. If we dig into that foundation, we should be prepared for some serious injuies". When another worker would ask "Would a ghost REALLY attack us?" Tami would say "In life, this man once pulverized a man, more than twice his size, just for invading his privacy." When the worker asked "But, isn't he dead?" Tami saw the look, on the vaporous face, of the spirit, as if daring the humans to invade his space. Tami would warn the crew "If you attempt to excavate THAT foundation, you do so, at your own, personal, risk" For a brief moment, everyone looked around them, even as a deep chuckle semed to ride the air. When a female worker asked "What was that?" Tami replied "A warning". As to the reason why the academics could not see the spirits, even while Tami and I could see the deceased, Tami and I considered this to be debate-able. Some people had mentioned that our past experience, with the spirit world, had provided us an "edge". Others claimed it was because Tami and I kept open minds, to the world, around us. Ofcourse, there were those who considered us "kooks", claiming that Tami and I just saw what we wanted to see. To Tami and I, though, the reason did not matter. No matter which version people chose to believe, all that mattered, to us, was that "we got the job done". When some diggers ignored Tami's warning, and dug into the "forbidden" foundation, the diggers did not dig, far down, before both diggers were grabbed, by the belt, lifted seven feet, in the air, for long enough for the rest of the team to witness, then the diggers were pitched some 100 feet away, from the foundation. After this, the rest of the diggers agreed to AVOID the spot. When the workshop was located, the space turned out to be even more expansive than the image had shown. Our best guess was that the space was about three stories tall, and massive. In regards to the overall project, though, the problem was that, with more artifacts being un-Earthed, the longer the construction crew was held up, from starting their own work. It seems that the local government REALLY wanted the resort built, to attract tourist dollars. This meant that, as long as the diggers were bringing out artifacts, the longer the wait, before the foundation, for the resort could be dug, and poured, with concrete. There was, however, another problem. Due to the design, of the resort, the foundations would have to be dug twice as deep as the level where the relics were being found. When relics just kept coming out of the ground, the team leader realized that this land would, now, fall under historic preservation guidelines. When the suggestion was made, that the resort, simply, be moved, to the other side of the highway, there turned out to be a problem, there, as well. In fact, the very problem which had resulted in the current site having been chosen. Between what Tami had been told, locally, and what she had found, on the internet, the original, proposed, site was, at one time, the site of a whore-house. Although this information did not discourage construction, nor did the fact that the home had burned down, due to an explosion, of the furnace, The problem was that local people believed that the prostitutes spirits roamed the property. In fact, this seemed to be the primary reason why no one, locally, would buy, or develop, the property. When Tami checked the internet, while I roamed the property, I did find signs that the foundation, of a substantial home, had, once stood at the location. If pressed to identify the type of residence, all I could say, with confidence, was that it appearred to have a Victorian lay-out. As for the so-called feeling, of being "watched", I am not certain if the feeling was real. With the nearby brush, I figured that, IF I were being "watched", it was by other humans. I made this determination since I sensed no malicious intent. As for Tami's part, of the investigation, Tami reported finding old snap shots, from the age of old black-and-white film. The site information included the names, of the madams, along with some photo's, which Tami was most suspicious of. When Tami showed me the photo's, and asked "What do you see?" I told her the truth. "I see women, wearing traditional clothes, bun-style hairdo's, and long, flowing, dresses, of the Victorian age." When Tami asked "What else do you see?" I asked her "What am I supposed to see?" Tami spelled it out. The women, in the photo's, were slim, and curvacious. They had basic, female, arms, and subdued features. When I asked "What of it?" Tami would say "These photo's are, supposedly, of pioneer women. Remember, from the days of out-houses, and carrying buckets of water, from pumps, into kitchens. Now, look at those arms. Do they look like they spend their days lugging fire-wood, and water buckets?" When I suggested "Maybe, they had help? Maybe, they either employed local men, for the brute work, or offered their "services", for the mens labors?" When Tami retorted "And, maybe my mother is the evil witch from The Wizard of Oz". When I suggested "Okay, lets suppose, just suppose, that these are NOT pictures, of the prostitutes. Why bother posting the fakes, on a web-site? After all, the prostitutes died, in the furnace explosion. How could anyone profit from the distortion?" Tami would shake her head as she said "Wrong question. The women were victims, yes, BUT, it is the TOWN which would benefit from such a story. As long as people BELIEVE that the place COULD be haunted, the superstitious, and the paranoid, will stay away, and the county can set its own price, for the land" When I asked "Just how much HAS the town profited, from the haunting stories?" Tami would say "As far as I can figure, about $10,000, per year, from tourist interest". When I asked "And the land, itself?" Tami would say "It is on the market, at a price of $5 million." When I said "You have got to be kidding. $5 million for dirt, and a burned out foundation?" Tami would remind me that there were those, in the world, who MIGHT PAY $50 million, to own property, which is "verified" as being "haunted." A short while later, and via video-conference, Mr. Brown verified that "Yes, there are people, who will pay fortunes, for what they want. In fact, a collector, of "haunted" possessions, just paid $75 million, to own the dress, supposedly worn, by Lizzie Borden, the day Lizzie, supposedly seduced, then murdered, two relatives, who, if legends are to be believed, committed incest, with her". When I asked "How much of this has been verified?" Mr. Brown would say "The dress purchaser paid $25 million, just to find out if Lizzie Borden even owned the dress. You should, also, know that the bowl, which Lizzie, allegedly, stood in, to rinse her relatives blood off her body, sold, some years back, for $7 million, while the pitcher, which Lizzie allegedly used, and which does bear **A** persons fingerprints, sold, for $12 million". When I suggested "So, does it not matter what can be proven. People are paying millions of dollars, just to be able to say "I own a piece of history"? Tami would add "THAT is what THIS town is waiting for. Someone, who WANTS to buy haunted land. The city can ask its own price, IF the buyer wants the land, bad enough". When Tami would ask Mr. Brown "Sir, if the current excavation continues, and more relics are found, what should we tell the developer, about the site?" Mr. Brown would say "My secretary has, already, done that research. That area has only been inhabited, for two centuries. There SHOULD be nothing, at all, beyond say, 75 feet. As far the artifacts, the Smithsonian has agreed to accept the items." When Tami would ask about the vengeful spirit, the one which had tossed eight workers, in total, out of his "private space", to date, Mr. Brown would say "That is being handled". The owner has determined that an excavator, and a bulldozer, can "take care" of the "spook". Atleast, that was the plan, for forty-eight hours. Although no one had any clue, as to where the spirit found the energy, when the machines went to work, on the spirits foundation, both the evidence, of sabotage, and the laughter, which seemed to "float" on the wind, was enough to convince the workers, even before the machines were flipped over. When, over the following week, the machines were turned right side up, and workers were prepared to resume work, everything halted when, with a deep, male, laugh, the machines were flipped, again. When Tami asked the contractor "What is to be built on this site, anyway?" The contractor would say "I think its just going to be a grade space. A place, for resort guests to rest, and relax". This is when Tami suggested "If there is going to be nothing over, around, or beneath, this foundation, why not just cover it with soil, and work around it?" The contractor would remind her "The plans call for masive foundations, deep into the ground. We have to dig this whole place up, to firm up the work". Tami would add "So, un-like th allies, in World War 2, you cant just go around it?" (Tami was referring to the German command-and-control bunkers, of th world war. The bunkers which had been so rigidly reinforced that Europe eventually gave up, on trying to destroy the places, and just built, over and around, the places.) This is when the contractor also remembered his own history lessons, including the one about how the post-war Germans had not only built a park, memorializing the victims, of the Third Reich, but how architects had directed intake water, from the bunker pipes, into the fountain, and that the same pipes, and pumps, remained in use, to this day. Pumps and pipes, which powered three, majestic, fountains. The bunker would remian fifteen feet below the surface, so that even planting tree's had been no problem. Now that the contractor remembered this, they had the foundation filled in, and marked, with red flags. Once the hole was filled, and marked, the mans spirit, no-longer malevolent, spiteful, or angry, appearred, to Tami, gave my partner a graceful bow, to which Tami gave a return curtsey, then the spirit dissolved. And, just as "Delcon Maxmillian" had predicted, the site turned out to be filled with workshops, each containing even more arftifacts. In some cases, Tami and I even watched how spirits, seen only by us, watched the humans excavate their lives. The excavator DID pull something, like a large cube-shaped, stone, out of the ground, however, due to its size, the contractor considered it a bonus, saying "Not so much digging, now". By the time concrete, for the foundations, had been poured, and the wiring, for a fantastic casino, began being installed, even Tami and I were left speechless. Especially when someone paid $300 million, for the site, of the supposed "bordello". (This, even though neither Tami, nor I, ever confirmed the home had, ever, been a bordello). When Tami and I were invited back, later, for the resorts grand opening, the "Interplanetary Casino", Tami's thoughts, and words, saying how lonely the place was, seemed echoed by other women, as well. All that I will say is that the place looked like it was straight out of the worst horror movie, I had, ever, viewed. In a surprise, to the investors, and the community, many people, including Tami and I, declined to enter the resort, since it did not give off the illusion, that it was safe. About the only people, who did want to enter, were those who wanted to play the odds. When "delcon Maxmillian" appearred, between Tami and I, looking at the thing, and asking, in a DEEP baritone, voice "Is THIS what we have come to? "Monsters", where the un-wary wager their lives away?" When Tami would correct "Delcon", saying "THIS is how our "governments" CHOOSE to make money. The people have no say, in the matter". Delcon would reply "I am relieved that I did not live to see this attrocity. It would have brought shame upon the clans, for sure". When Tami would ask "Your people believed in a fair days wages, for a fair days labor, did you not?" Delcon would nod as he replied, softly "WE valued the WORTH, of the individual. We worked the land, and aided one another. My brethern will be heart-broken to see what has become, of our lands". With a "Thank You", and a "Farewell, my friends", delcon would dissolve. In less than two years time, revenue, from the "Interplanetary Casino" would fall so far SHORT, of expectations, that the casino would be declared a "white elephant". This, despite the hundreds of millions of dollars spent, on the hotel suites. It would be verified that, over time, no one, except resort staff, ventured to the "planets". As for the projected income, from the resort, this would fall short, of goals, by close to $10 billion. The local chapter, of Gamblers Anonymous, not only saw its ranks swell, especially with visitors, who had gambled away every cent they had, plus automobiles, and so on, but the chapter ended up setting up a "Community Service" program, to aid gamblers, in paying off debts. When the results were made public, the old city council was "swept away", replaced with a new, civically minded, council. This council would have to inform locals that the only grant money, still available, was for gambling resorts. The government had made it CLEAR. NO MONEY, for building factories. No one was sure just what to do, with the casino, though. The place may have been a blight, on the area, but demolition would bankrupt the local economy. Since the federal government would not approve demolition funds, the only decision, left, for the city, was to shut down the un-used suites, and just try operating the casino. (The rest would be "written off", of taxes). As for the Smithsonian, it seems that the finds were in conflict with what museum staff had thought about delcon's people. Museum staffers had been so certain, that delcons people had been nomadic, following game, and taking women, whenever they chose to. Now, that delcon's village had been un-covered, the nomadic theme would have to be re-visited. Tami would suggest, in her final report, that not ALL, of delcon's people, had been villagers. After all, NOT ALL modern people, are city-folks. The Smithsonian would only HESITANTLY agree that this was POSSIBLE, even though this would re-write history. Still, the museum agreed to review the matter. Well, at this point, I WOULD, normally, say "On, to the next case", except...