THE HAUNTING PAST MYSTERY OF THE ANASAZI

THE HAUNTING PAST: MYSTERY OF THE ANASAZI Boy! Talk about someone NOT studying history! Ofcourse, knowing that Tami and I had just come OFF of one of our most unusual cases, in the mystery of the orb, it is no wonder we were called in, on this case. It would seem that the Indian nations were "Up in Arms", over some pranksters actions, regarding the Anasazi. Before handing off the case-file, to us, however, Mr. Brown would catch our eyes, then half-whisper "I have promised the nations that our investigation will be the sole of DISCRETION. I trust that the two of you will honor the nations request, to keep this case as quiet as the wind. Am I understood?" When Tami and I would say "Ofcourse", Mr. Brown would say "Very well. The only thing I cannot say is whether speed is of the essence, in this case". Back on-board Ghost Ship 2, when Tami and I opened the file, we understood the reason why Mr. Brown had been so adamant, about respecting the nations rights. It would seem that the request had come from some sort of national, indian, council. The source, of the request were the Cherokee, Sioux, and Cheyenne, nations. It did not take Tami and I even five minutes to understand the reason for the request. The reason was as simple as the sun, rising, in the east. Although Anasazi lands, like ALL, indian, sites, were off-limits, after tour hours, it would seem that someone had gained access, and was carving up the Anasazi birth-right. The vandals were trying to make their work appear as if it were done by aliens. Problem was that the markings were crude enough to suggest rebar, spikes, maybe hard woods. What the nations wanted the agency to learn was HOW the vandals gained access, to the lands, and HOW the vandals did their work, without leaving a single foot print. Some crack-pot had suggested that the vandals had used a helicopter, hovering over the ground, to avoid leaving foot-prints. This, however, was discounted, when both the Brown Agency's own pilots, and our pilots, agreed that, in order to make such carvings, from the air, a helicopter would have to be so close, to the ground, that it would leave a visible prop-wash. Leave it to Mr. Black, and his gang of model, and mischief, makers, to come up with a reasonable solution. None of us had any idea what the technicians were up to, when they asked Mr. Brown, and Tami and I, to join them, in a vacant lot, across from our building. WHY were the technicians carrying boards, as well? Choosing two, soft, spaces, of ground, Mr. Black made a perfect example, of how foot-prints would be created, on the floor of the desert. Then came the "surprise". When the short planks were lain on the ground, we noticed that the planks had small hinges. These had allowed for compact movement, from the agencies labs, to the open street. Then, using nothing more than a skiers foot clamp, Mr. Black demonstrated how easy it was, to move across dry ground, without leaving a print. The rationale: While shoes compress the ground, in a small span of area, the use, of boards, dissipates the load, over a larger area. As a result, a person could move across the ground, and leave no prints. When Mr. Black looked at us, asking "What do you think?" I was amazed when Tami kissed the man, saying "You are wonderful". Mr. Black only blushed. Well, if nothing else, we learned how the intruders had worked, while leaving no foot-prints. Still, this left the question of "Why bother?" After all, it is a well-known fact that the Anasazi "vanished", millenia ago. What became of these indians remains a mystery to this day. And, NO, Tami and I were not about to go after the "ancient aliens" nickname. Not, atleast until AFTER we have no other angles to work with. Tami and I agreed, with Mr. Brown. The nations deserved a proper investigation. Not some science fiction, about mother ships, and aliens, breeding with humans. Thankfully, Anasazi land rests in the middle of the desert, so there was no problem, with parking G.S.2. Our pilots did, however, make the wise decision, to un-load several crates, of ammunition, replacing these crates with extra water containers. As the pilots would say "In the desert, the real "killer" is NOT human. It is heat, and thirst." For this assignment, Mr. Black outfitted the two of us with the latest in desert gear. It was made of some sort, of heat, and light, repellent, fabric, which was designed to keep soldiers cool, in desert environments. As to the reason why the fabric was not yet available, to combat soldiers, the reason was simple. it would seem that, allegedly, the fabric, of each uniform, would cost as much as a aircraft carrier. Until the fabric became cheaper, soldiers would just have to deal with the heat, of desert environments. When Tami would mention "I feel terrible, wearing this gear, to be comfortable, while combat soldiers are sweating, in the desert." Mr. Black would say "Look at it this way. You are not modelling the latest fashion. You are field-testing new equipment, prior to its deployment. Your reports, on performance, and durability, will aid in the development, for the Department of Defense." When Tami would say "You are joking, right? Why would the Department of Defense care what a couple of civilians think, about military hardware?" Mr. Black would remind Tami "Just HOW do you think the government came up with bullet-proof vests, kevlar, even machine guns?" When Tami would say "I have no idea", Mr. Black would say "Civilian research. People like you, testing gear, before it is deployed." Out, in the desert, though, while the uniforms might have kept the external heat off of our bodies, our gear made up for the deflection, of heat. In fact, when a local Cherokee man met us, after viewing our arrival, I must say that this man was not only built, for the outdoors, but his clothing seemed even better suited, for the desert conditions, than our "uniforms". After introductions were made, the man gave us an update. "The tribes are most dis-pleased, with a recent development. It seems that the white man is trying to make our people look like fools". When Tami asked "How?" The man would say "Follow me, and see for yourselves". Leaving Tami's street cruiser car behind, I took the wheel, of my Jeep, and followed the indians own Jeep. Maybe half an hour, away from Ghost Ship 2, the indian led us to a piece, of camoflauge tarp. It was just amazing how well the tarp blended into the desert color. It was, however, what was UNDERNEATH the tarp, which had the indians irate. When Tami and I followed the man, under the tarp, we understood, immediately, why the tribe was upset. Some one had, some how, gottten access to the land, and set up either the original, season two, model, of the upper deck, of the Jupiter 2, or the vandals had gone to a LOT of effort, to re-create the prop. When Tami would ask "Why would anyone bother to do this. We are miles, from the nearest town. Who, besides the nations, would see this, way out here?" MY question would be "This thing is so famous. Re-runs on television, constantly. HOW could they even get it here, without being seen? I mean, this thing would be about as discrete as Air Force One." The indians had no answers. All they indians could tell us was that, as soon as this thing was discovered (thankfully, by a local ranch hand), it had been covered up. At this moment, the Cherokee were more concerned with rumors turning this into another Roswell. The indian was polite, yet firm, as he asked "How soon can we get rid of this?" Tami would suggest "Let me check with the props department, first. If this prop is from "Lost In Space", the producers might want it back. Otherwise, we can recycle it." When the indians agreed to allow the ownership search, Tami no sooner went on the internet, when she found a message, from the Brown Agency. The tag-line read "Theft of prop". According to the accompanying report, it would seem that, after "Lost in Space" was cancelled, its props, like those, of any other, cancelled, show, were placed up for auction. That is, any pieces which were not claimed, by other shows. It will seem like Deja Vu, to Star Trek fans, who will remember that, after the original series was cancelled, a fan had paid top dollar, for the Gallileo 7 shutttlecraft. When the prop was delivered, to the purchasers home, via semi, however, the purchaser had been irate when they discovered that the shuttlecraft had NO engine. The fan had sued Paramount Studios, for sending the prop, instead of the shuttlecraft, and they would not be dissuaded by the fact that, on the show, the craft had, never, actually, flown. It was hung from wires. A judge had thrown out the case, reminding the purchaser that Star Trek technology will not exist, for centuries, to come. Now, something similar had happened, with the Jupiter 2. In this case, the purchaser had not hoped to fly, in the ship. They just wanted to own a piece of "television history". According to the time line, of the story, the prop had been stolen right about the time that G.S.2 was taking on extra reserves, of water. Still, this left the question of transporting a large, saucer-shaped, object, cross-country, without attracting attention. A TALL order, with modern surveillance. Then, I shared a thought, with the indians. What if the "landing" was "staged"? What if some one just wanted it to appear, maybe from the air, that a saucer had landed. When the indian asked "Out here? In the desert? What purpose would that serve?" I suggested "There are some UFO-nuts, who would do just about anything, to try to prove that Earth has been, and is, being visited, by other races. Suppose, just suppose, that some one veers a plane, off-course, even by accident, flies over, see's this saucer, and reports seeing aliens?" The indian would say "That is a pretty TALL leap, dont you think?" I would add "Just suggesting a possibility. If you have another, I am sure my partner and I would LOVE to hear it". I was not-at-all surprised, when Tami informed me that, once the ships owner knew where their property was, they wanted to know how soon they could have their "nick-nack" back. Actually, we had no idea, since this was STOLEN property, and, therefore, a police matter. Tami and I were, only, present, to learn why some one was defacing indian land. And WHY Anasazi land? Why not land, of a tribe, currently in residence? To the indians anger, some one DID find out, about the saucer, and, soon, the press was repeating 1947. "A flying saucer has been located, in the desert, x-number of miles from town. Witnesses say that craft landed, not crashed. Intention of crew unknown." By the time the indian nations issued a press release, promising that the prop was NOT extra-terrestrial, and some sarcastic reporter asked "Then, WHERE is it from? Project U.F.O.? Flash Gordon?" The indian nations press office would say "Try "Lost in Space". We have verified, with the owner, that this object is, indeed, the upper hull section, of the spacecraft children know as the Jupiter 2." When the reporter asked "What do you mean, the upper hull? Where is the rest of the ship?" An indian reporter would say "We have no idea. The owner, of the top section, has been contacted. They will retrieve their property, once the investigation is completed". When the reporter would ask "What investigation. I thought you said it was a t.v. prop." The indian would state "Yes, it is a prop, however, the question is "HOW did the prop find its way onto indian land, without being witnessed?" When the fool suggested "Why not the transporter beam?" The indian would walk away, knowing that the fool was cross-referencing different science fiction shows. Star Trek had transporters. Lost in Space had no such tech. Out, on the desert, when the indians asked Tami and I about why there were no foot-prints, in the dirt, if this was, in fact, "staged", Tami would assist me, in applying the boards, then the indians would choose a patch, of soft ground, and I would demonstrate Mr. Black's intelligence. Although the indians were impressed, with the demonstration, the question of "WHY?" hung in the air. While speaking to some female indians, Tami had a thought, about what the saucer was doing in THIS location. "I wonder if it could be that, after the thieves stole the prop, that they feared police pursuit, and either dumped the saucer, here, to get rid of the evidence, OR if the theives are planning to try for recovery". When the indians realized what I was about to ask, they agreed, saying "If it aids in keeping our land sacred, from such vandalism, the nation will agree to assist in this "stake-out"." We, all, agreed, though, that, thanks to the news article, we might have to wait, two, or more, weeks, for the vandals to return. The vandals would want to wait until they thought that indians had lost interest, in the location. As a result, the indians would return, with Tami and I, to the place, where the ground was carved up. I have to say that, even with planks, under my feet, I had a terrible time trying to duplicate the "drawings". I guess that my own desire, to create proper pieces, lead me to take more care, in my own creations. Still, the indians filmed my fake drawings, as I made them. When the indians compared soil content, and moisture, it was decided that the vandals had taken only one quarter the time, to create their drawings, as I did. This is why the vandals work was dry, by the time it was found, while mine was wet, for hours, thereafter. Still, the indians wanted to know not only WHO, but WHY. Answers which Tami and I wanted, as well. And why bother with the Anasazi? A tribe which had disappearred, thousands of years ago. The questions. Oh, the questions. It would be three weeks later, before we received the message, from the site. It seems there had been a shooting. When the local sheriff, and our crowd, rushed to the scene, expecting to see bodies, it would seem that we drove into a stand-off. Some white men were standing behind a pickup truck, with the saucer section tipped over the edge of the bumper. When the vandals saw the police lights, they forgot who was BEHIND the lights, as they called out "Crazy enjun's! They are attacking us!" Then, the vandals saw just WHO came out, of the sherriff's Jeep. This is when we heard thhe vandals, clearly, say "Oh, shit! More enjuns! We are dead mmeat". The sheriff would say "Thats right, but only if you dont drop those weapons, right now". Once the vandals dropped their weapons, the sheriff called out, in an indian dialect, and was answered, in the same dialect. Once the vandals were hand-cuffed, and locked in the rear, of the sheriff's Jeep, the sheriff asked the indian guard "Just WHAT were you thinking?" The guard would only say "I was just trying to keep them here, until you arrived. I thought that shooting out their tires would be better than shooting them". No one reprimanded the guards actions. In the jail complex, the vandals would only admit to dumping the prop, after a chase, with a state trooper. The vandals were both afraid of being arrested, with the stolen property, and they did not want to run the risk, of being charged if, after the trooper had "lost" the pickup, that it might find them, again. When questioned about the marks, the vandals seemed clueless. The vandals did not even seem to know WHO the Anasazi were, let alone whose land they had dumped their stolen merchandise on. By the time Tami and I were called back, to the indian site, the guards, on station, seemed as confused as the vandals were, about what was going on. When Tami walked to the security shack, she found out that the guards were correct. The recordings had not captured the vandals, who left the newest marks. In fact, all the camera's had recorded was some sound, none of us had heard, before. When the perimeter guards were called in, all verified that, between the time, when we left, with the vandals, and the time, when we returned, to the site, no one had entered, or departed, the area. No helicopters, either. Tami would be the first to notice that these marks were different, from previous marks. While the other marks were crude, and clumsy, this, new, design, seemed almost stenciled, on the ground. Over th following days, actual messages would be found, drawn into the dirt, nnear the ancient village. Messages, which only Anasazi scholars could translate. Someone was using the Anasazi language, to send the message of "Get OFF our land!" When Tami reminded the indians "We were INVITED!" The indians would say "This is not our doing. Some one is playing a terrible joke, with our heritage." When Tami would ask "If not us, then WHO do these people want OFF their land?" The indians would say "Very good question. We would, also, like to know HOW they are gaining access to our land". From a report, which Mr. Brown, would, later, forward to G.S.2, it would seem that, no-sooner had thhe upper hull prop, from the Jupiter 2, been returned to its owner, when the full-size prop was stolen. This time off of a secure back-lot. The report said that the prop was being used in some, new, movie. Something about aliens, coming to Earth, and taking human women, for mating. The script, as e-mailled, to us, had the most ridiculous plot, yet conceived, for science fiction. Once the aliens had sex, with our women, and the women became pregnant, the women would be returned to Earth, to deliver, and raise the children. Children, who would be "programmed", before conception, be to ready to take control, of Earth, and prepare the planet for alien colonization. Humanity would be "disposed of". Problem is that the prop was stolen, before the scene, of the "aliens" returning the women to Earth, was filmed. Although there was stock footage, from "Lost in Space", this footage showed only humans entering and leaving, the craft. The movie needed footage of "aliens". With the prop stolen, the movie could not be completed. Now, an "Attempt to Locate" bulletin was out, nationwide, however, even Mr. Brown doubted that anyone would be stupid enough to drive around, in the open, carrying a flying saucer. Still, the indian chiefs agreed with Tami. Extra guards would be posted, and on patrol. If someone were stupid enough to try to dump a second prop, on indian land, we would nab them. Whoever it was, who stole the prop, put it out, for auction, on the internet. The fools even used stock-footage, from "Lost in Space", to show viewers that the ship had flight capability. Everyone, at the site, including the indians, not only wondered if anyone would be dumb enough to believe the stock-footage, but why would be dumb enough yo bid on stolen property. Un-fortunately, there were too many people, in both groups. People, who wanted a working space ship, and those who wanted to own a piece, of television history. When one bidder offered $10 million, for the prop, the payment was made conditional upon the ship being FLOWN to the buyers home, under its own power. Mr. Brown would, then, e-mail us a copy, of a rental receipt, for an overhead boom, and heavy duty fishing line. The question atttached asked "Do you really think the buyer will BUY this?" For Tami and myself, the main question would be "HOW will the seller bring the saucer, to the buyer, with the police on the watch, for travelling saucers?" It would appear, later, that the boom, and so on, had been a waste of time, and money. According to another news item, which we were e-mailled, it seems that the people, transporting the saucer, had stopped, at a McDonalds, for a bite, and had been arrested, after other guests had spotted the flying saucer, and telephoned the police. The movie would be three months behind schedule, and $5 million, over budget (for un-specified reasons), by the time the prop would be returned. When the movie would be released, the following month, it would be reported as the lowest-grossing movie, in history. (And this was BEFORE the film was changed from PG-13, upon original release, and was re-released with plenty of XXX-rated material added. Material which had been cut, for the PG rating.) Even with a rating of XXX, thhe movie did not even cover production costs. What we found hilarious, about the whole mess, was when the production company sued the performers, to force re-payment of salaries. And, ALL of this, caused by a stolen prop. If only it were so easy to solve the mystery of the Anasazi lands. WHY was someone using the Anasazi language to send messages, even proclaiming that the land was to be evacuated, in order to provide room for arriving ships. The indian nations only response, to this: Some one is trying to make terrible jokes, on the nations. When Tami would ask "Whats the point? Thats what I dont understand" The indians had no answer. Even when the tribal council approved bringing in additional warriors, to bolster the on-site security, still, the messages continued to appear. The messages never changed. It was always either "Clear the area", or "The ships are approaching". And, always, written, in Anasazi. It was when no one was caught entering the perimeter that Tami would ask for a tour, of the ruins. And not just the standard tour, of the public area's. Tami would amaze the indians, by asking for a "behind the scenes" tour. When a warrior was assigned to escort her, Tami would ask "May I have a historian as well?" When security asked "What for?" Tami would say "In case I have questions, about local history". Tami was, soon, relieved that her request, for a historian was granted since, when the group entered the ruins, and went DEEP INSIDE one of the indians main fortresses, she would have plenty of questions, about the place. One of her biggest questions was one which would require a trip, to reservation records section. This is because, even though her guides promised that some waterways were only for irrigation, Tami had her doubts. My partner wanted to confirm what went where. When the three visited the Hall of Records, Tami found it no surprise that staff knew what she would be asking for. Since the tribal council had, already approved Tami's access, to records, the three people would sit at a table, reviewing the ancient documents, of the site. Tami's main problem, with these records, was that the material was thousands of years old. When Tami asked about more recent information, the historian would ask "Why should we update the records? No one has lived in the area since the Anasazi vanished. Some of our people, still, think the place is cursed. It is nothing more than a tourist attraction". When Tami would ask about the ancient waterways, the historian would only say "It has been centuries since the last person ent down there." When Tami would ask "Are you CERTAIN of that?" The historian would promise "Ma'am, no one goes down there, since we have water, from our own wells." Still, since Tami was un-impressed, with the indians promise, guess who get "elected" to join her, in scuba diving the old water mains. As Tami reminded me, the "blue-prints" suggested just enough space for water to flow, but cautioned me "These plans were written thousands of years ago." When I asked "What happens if we find an obstacle, which no one can pass?" Tami would promise "If we cannot pass any point, without the gear, I will declare the search a "lost cause"." I have to hand it to my partner, once we entered the "feeder system", which supplied the settlement, her hunch paid off, far better than I had hoped for. For one thing, we noticed that we were NOT the first people, down here, in centuries. We found "fresh evidence", which we bagged, for the warriors, as proof that some one else HAD been down in the waterway, recently. We also found little use, for our scuba gear, as the water had worn the tunnel deep enough that the "top" was more of a walkway, than duct-work. Granted, it was a LONG walk, to the settlement, bbut Tami was certain that, once we reached the end, and showed our fully pressurized tanks, to the tribe, even the skeptics would agree that it WAS possible for a person to sneak in, via the waterway. What we did not "bank" on was the mysterious, side tunnel. For some reason, the tribe had forgotten to list this tunnel, in the designs. Strangest of all was the lady, whom we found "dancing", inside the tunnel. (I could only conclude that someone knew we were coming, and set this up, to distract me.) It was not until Tami saw the womans motions, and called out "We are here to investigate. What is your name". When the woman did not answer, but just continued gesturing, Tami suggested "Maybe, she does not speak English?" I would remind my partner "Everyone, on Earth, speaks English. That is why Americans can travel anywhere, and be understood". What I was surprised that my partner did not notice was that the woman was dressed in an ancient, indian, costume. Still, the music, inside the tunnel, which swayed, with the womans actions, seemed both calming, and welcoming. Whhen we followed the woman into the side tunnel, we ascended a flight of stairs, and entered a prosperous village. A place, full of indians, and similar to an open air market. This would be one of those times when our modern clothing not only did not fit in, but drew atttention, as well. Not to mention our scuba tanks. It would take awhile, to find someone, who spoke English, but, once we did, Tami and I found ourselves welcomed to a village, whose name we could not pronounce. Our interrpreter would inform us that "Yes, I was trained, in Europe." Under some count, or duke. "I was trained, in the ways, of the white man, since the spirits sent word that the white man would come, to our land, one day." While I set Tami up to do the iinterviews, and collect data, while I examined the place, to find out just how far we were, from the Cherokee lands, no matter what vantage point I used, I could not find hide, nor hair, of reservations lands, nor the security shack. Still, the natives were friendly, and very few asked about our clothing. Tami would only say that we lived "far away". If anything amazed me, about the village, it was how well the indians had irrigated the desert. Just off, in the distance, even I could see fields, growing in abundance. When Tami and I were invited to stay for dinner, I was amazed not only with the fresh food, but the beautiful, dining, plates. I just wonder how much those custom-made silverware pieces had cost. After Tami spent fourty-eight hours, taking down all the notes, that she could fit, in her notebook (the paper kind), and I spent this same time trying to fiind landmarks, to find this place, again, I ended up taking a rock, and marking a boulder. This way, I could find this place, again. After Tami and I suited up, our interpreter would lead us back, to the dancing woman, who led us back, to the "cave of music". This is thhe only way in which I could describe the tunnel. Since our equipment was too bulky, for curtsey's, Tami and I bowed, to the woman, then began walking out of the cave, promising to return when we had more time. When I remembered that I had forgottten to ask the "tunnel womans" name, and turned back, to ask her, I found myself facing solid stone. This, in the very spot where Tami and I had just exited the tunnel. (HOW were we going to report THIS, to the Brown Agency?) By the time Tami and I were nearing the end of the tunnel, we heard voices, calling our names. When Tami called out "We are here. We will be right there", we heard a voice say "Thank the Great Spirit, for your safety." When Tami would say "No big deal, we just got side-tracked, in that tunnel, back there". When our "reception committee" would ask "What side tunnel?" Tami would say Maybe one hundred yards back. Man, is that village ever beautiful. I hope that, once our investigation is finished, the elders will permit us to return, to that village". When a warrior would ask "What tunnel? What village?", Tami decided to let the warriors think what they wanted to think. We knew where the village was. More important, though, we had found out that there was plenty of walk room, in the waterway. People could come, and go, without anyone noticing. When a warrior would suggest informing the council, Tami asked "Lets not do that, yet. I want to find something, first." When the warrior would say "Ma'am, tribal law must be obeyed." Tami would say "Ofcourse. I am just asking you to wait, for a short while, before informing the council." When the warrior would ask "Just how LONG will this "short while" be?" Tami would promise "No more than a week. I promise you that". Sure enough, Tami was right, and even more on target than I was. The day after exiting the waterway, I provided some warriors a general lay-out, of the village we had visited and, would you believe it, the warriors acted like they did not know what I was talking about. When we hopped into my Jeep, and one, of their own, I drove to the approximate place, where I believed that the village was located. The warriors then sat, in stone-faced silence, as I got my beaings, and told the warriors what was here. When the lead warrior would say "Sir, as you can see, there is nothing but desert, here. This place has been desert, for over 1,000 years." When I asked "Before 1,000 years ago? Who lived here?" The warrior would say "The old ones say that, maybe 2,000, or more, years, ago, this land was farmed, by the Anasazi. Legend says the tribe were masters of water. As you can, plainly, see, no one lives here, now". It was not until I found the spot, where I had marked the boulder, and showed the warriors my mark, that I said "This IS where the village was. I know it is". A warrior would say "Mister, if you visited that village, you would be the oldest man on this continent. Our ancestors passed, from here, over 1,000 years ago. Are you trying to tell us that you are over 1,000 years old?" When I would remind the warriors about the side tunnel, in the waterway, the warriors would tell me "Mister, you have been in the sun, WAY too LONG. There have never been any "branches", in that waterway. Why dont you let us take you back to your aircraft, and let you rest." Later that night, after Tami and I sacked out, we heard the "tunnel music", again, only this time, from outside G.S.2. When Tami joined me, outside the plane, asking "Do you hear it, as well?" I agreed. When the dancing woman came before us, whispering "You have been honored, by a visit to our village. Your time will, never, believe you have visited us, since we are not of your time." When Tami would ask the woman "What time is your time?" The woman would whisper "Patience, daughter, of the Earth. In time, you will know of us". When Tami would ask "Just tell us this. Are you human?" The woman would smile as she said "human? Oh, yes, at one time. Long ago, by your history. We were farmers, and traders, just as we showed you. We have moved on, though". When Tami would ask "Moved on, to what, or where?" The woman would whisper "In due time, you will understand. Patience. That is the key. Do not rush life. Let life flow." When Tami would ask "Where might we reach you, if we have questions?" The woman would whisper "We will be watching, as we have been, these, many, moons. When you are ready, more will be reevealled, too you. Until then, you must learn patience". Then, with a smile, the woman would dissolve into the night. This is when I would suggest, to Tami "I THINK we have MET the Anasazi". Tami would say "Terrific, and we are no closer to solving any of the riddles we were sent to investigate." The very next night, though, as Tami would say "Dont ask me why, but I feel that we should go on-watch, in the tunnels." This is why, with rations, water, and patience, Tami and I sat, in the dark, waiting for something to happen. Maybe two hours into our watch, Tami and I slipped into cover, as a pair, of flashlights came from the waterway. Someone was talking about something being found. Someone said it was dangerous to return. When the "leader" would say "Shut up! Do you want to get caught?" The other voice said "I heard they found that tunnel. What if they go back, and find it, again?" The "leader" said "Focus! We have a job to do". When the vandals exited the ruins, and the "junior" asked "The same as before?" The "leader" would say "No, lets make it more frightening. Lets make it sound like the ships are coming, to harvest humans. That should scare these meddlers away". Once the vandals were finished, they returned, via the waterway, and Tami and I followed them, all the way, to their cars. It was only after we had positive visuals, on the faces, AND the license plates, that we took our evidence, before the sheriff. I dont know why, but, when the sheriff found out that one of the vandals was his own son, Tami and I felt like we had betrayed a terrible secret. When Tami and I were allowed to watch the interrogation, the vandals greatest fear was that we would find a way to return to the valley. When the sheriff would say "There is NO valley. No side tunnels. I have been down there, myself. It is just a waterway." The vandal would say "Right, for the visitors. There is no side tunnel. No valley". For their actions, the vandals would be charged cleaning up the "graffitti", and issuing a public apology, to the reservations peoples. When asked what possessed the vandals to use the Anasazi language, the "leader" would only say "I was inspired". The leader could not define their inspiration. They would only say "It FELT natural". When the interrogator would ask "To defile our ancestors memory?" The "leader" would say "No, stupid. To honor the ancestors. Remind the people that we come from a long, and proud, line. We were not dependent, upon the "welfare", of the Christians, until the Christians used "heavy fire-power", to force us off of our ancestral lands." Tami and I knew that this was sad, but true. After all, prior to the Christian invasion, of North America, the indian nations had prosperous villages, and abundant crops. They worshipped the spirits, of the Earth, and sky, and taught their young to navigate by the stars. While Tami would report, to the Brown Agency, that we had captured those, most directly, in control, of the vandalism, Tami left open the question of "IS it really vandalism, to try and honor ones heritage? Is this not what the public school system attempts to teach childrren, as well? Who is to say which version, of history is correct?" When Mr. Brown made no comment, Tami looked to me, and I had no answer, either. As for the Anasazi, based upon the non-answers, which our visitor had provided, we remained with the question of "Did the Anasazi travel to the distant past? Did the tribe leave the Earth, entirely? Did the tribe, simply, move to another dimension? Was the side tunnel, inside the waterway tunnel, really a "dimensional portal"? If so, HOW, or even SHOULD, we attempt to access its secrets?" When Tami and I found that these questions produced nothing other than migrane headaches, and upset bellies, we realized that this was yet another case where the most we could do was identify some human acts. Prosecute the living, and attempt to honor the deceased. Before making her final case report, to the Brown Agency, Tami would allow the chiefs to review her final report, while Tami and I took in the scenery, and tried to imagine life, for the Anasazi. Who were these people? How did they learn to cultivate the land, and build a rich culture. How did they build a thriving civilization, in the desert? Were they REALLY the "primitive savages, who practiced human sacrifice", as the Christians would maintain? OR, were the Anasazi just victims of bad publicity? When the chiefs submitted their decision, a council member did nothing more than inform Tami that four words, which she had used, in the report, were in-correctly, spelled. The council had done nothing more than to correct Tami's spelling. Otherwise, the council was pleased with the report. When Tami thanked the council for their cooperation, Tami and I were invited to remain, for a victory celebration. A celebration, that indian ways, and life-style, had been preserved, for more generations. Although no one was sacrificed, the indians did practice a ritual, in which just a few drops, of each members blood, was given to Mother Earth. As the chief infomed us "This is our way of remaining connectted, to Mother Earth. We give, of ourselves, to the Great Mother, in return for bountiful crops, and healthy families." And, for the record, no throats were slit, nor were genitalia bled. Actually, the practice was not much different from giving a blood sample, in a hospital. The chief would only ask Tami and I NOT to report that, in the modern day, the tribes "Medicine Man" was a licensed doctor, in costume, while his assistants were Registered nurses. Still, the performance followed the old customs, and ways, of Native Americans, so the chief's saw no conflict. While our retired air force pilots, were not in favor of adding an indian symbol, to G.S.2, the nations promised that, if we, ever returned, the symbol would be a sign, for the indians to welcome us, with open arms. (The co-pilot would suggest that, anytime the plane went in, for maintenance, that we could just cover up the indian symbol.) When the indians bid us farewell, Tami and I knew not to expect time off. And she was right. We were just about to settl in, for the flight, home, when Mr. Blue came onto the video monitor, saying "Mr. Brown has something he would like for you to review. Mr. Brown will be on the line, shortly." When Mr. Brown came on the line, saying "Very well done! Caught the vandals, and aided in improving relations, with the nations." When Tami would mention "What about that stupid news report about the alien ship landing, in the deesert?" Mr. Brown would, almost, fall out of his chair, laughing, before saying "Please forgive me. Fact is, there have been so many, of these stories, even before Roswell, that no one pays attention, anylonger. Roswell, U.F.O.'s, and the Loch Ness monster, are, now, the stuff of camp fire stories." When Tami would ask "So, whats up?" Mr. Brown would say "I am forwarding you some information. And, THIS time, ALL that I am asking is a simple review. I would like your thoughts, on the case. I really dont think it is our kind of work, but I would appreciate your input, any way." As we cruised, for home base, Tami and I would begin reviewing the material. Nobody, ever, said that life, or death, was easy...