CHAPTER 1
The Dimensional Riff
Three years earlier the National Weather Service contacted NORAD regarding unusual sun spots that produced numerous abnormalities in magnetic resonance tracking and solar luminosity modulations not usually found in the normal manifestation of sunspots as they emanated from the sun. Fearing human intervention, particularly from the Russians or North Korea, the weather service made a formal request of NORAD to monitor solar flares. NASA was read in, and all monitoring satellites were upgraded to account for all solar activity as it related to the planet. Higher than normal magnetic activity was found in the area surrounding Area 51 in the Sonora desert, a large expanse in Siberia, the Congo, the Amazon, and a smaller more elusive region around the Akura Sea.
And for a brief period, lasting approximately 90 revolutions around the sun, at intermittent intervals, higher than normal radio-active magnetic bursts created simultaneous X-points in these four regions. Solar flares were noted occurring within this time frame, however, there was no corresponding magnetic or electrical disturbance on earth. Yet, the dispersement of whistler waves did not cause oscillatory relaxation. Instead, each of these areas showed what appeared to be a vortex. The funnel absorbed the oncoming solar wind without as much as a ripple in Earth's atmosphere. Depending on the direction of the flare at the time of disbursement the vortex widened well above the Exosphere, funneling the energy into the Earth's core. With one exception. That was just south of Area 51 in the Sonora Desert.
With the second to last occurrence of solar activity the National Weather Service noted a higher than usual electro-particle variation with a corresponding phase space trajectory intersecting in Sonora. Magnetic disturbances were noted by both NORAD and Area 51 personnel, however extensive searches on the desert region indicated no abnormalities.
And yet the scientists disagreed. There were abnormalities. Miniscule at best, but recordable. The saw-toothed oscillations created collision less reconnections in space plasma. The thin sheet of the Earth's magnetotail has developed a small micro-fracture. Unobservable from Earth's surface, but mathematically quantified. SOHO and WMAP recorded the aberrancy almost simultaneously. And then it disappeared. Considered a fluke by most, only a few radical astrophysicists choose to follow the intermittent stream of disputed data theorizing and speculating as conspiracy theories spewed forth
CHAPTER 2
The Fein Farm Cooperative
In a little farm, just west of the highway 17, Roy Fein, a disgruntled and semi-retired quantum physicist, along with his commune of aging hippies, captured a glimmer of what would later prove to be a segment of an interdimensional quantum string. Roy left the work-a-day world nearly a decade earlier when his theory on space time continuums and intergalactic travel were regarded as pure hokum. Not to be considered the laughing stock, he offered his theories and journals as science fiction and made quite a name for himself. The royalties from his books allowed for a quite moderate existence in the desert. Roy married the love of his life, had a daughter, and decided to raise goats, for their wool and cheese, and marijuana, for personal use of course, and withdrew from society. He hosted a small migratory band of hippies, some rainbow children, and the disenfranchised.
Everyone, on reservation and in the neighboring town, was especially proud of Roy Fein. He went off to University to become a physicist; and when his books turned to science fiction, well his choice to return to the farm and write was met with equal acclaim. Roy was 1/4 First nation on his mother's side, Navajo going back to the 1850's and part Seminole/ Creek when the tribe was forced to move from Florida some 20 years earlier. Roy's four-time grandmother was part Creek and part Seminole. A small child at the time of relocation, this ancestor walked the Trail of Tears, surviving the many incursions against Native people by the soldiers of Andrew Jackson's armies. His three times grandfather Fein came from Canada to settle as a shepherd with a community of French Basques. The land was offered to the Fein family after the Civil War for services rendered to the Union army in the guise of wool from the goats and sheep herded on the land. Eventually Fein men married local women, many of whom where Native Americans from the tribes that were relocated to this area in the desert; thus, solidifying the claim to the vast acreage that eventually became the farm cooperative.
Roy encouraged all the children from the reservation to go past their limitations of being born on a reservation. Many took his words to heart. All the children from the Long Bow and Wanderhorse clans went on to University. Fortune would fate Windsong and Mark to become the most notable of the siblings.
The farm's population varied from five to 50. Some were students who felt alienated at the Universities, some were First Nation's people seeking a life off the reservation, but still close to the land. Others, came to get clean and sober. Some just needed a respite from the modern world, seeking solitude and repose in the natural surroundings of Sonora. Everyone were welcome and none were turned away. There was much to be done on the farm, tending to the sheep and goats, the small meager crops, and of course the Cannabis. Roy ran the commune, with the 70's understanding of the lifestyle. Up with the sun, meals offered family style three times a day, no electronic devices except in Roy's house where a computer was hooked to a 56" monitor; and was mainly used for weekly movie nights and soccer games. Roy also had a laptop upon which he wrote, maintained his blog, and occasionally skyped with those colleagues who still held his opinion in high regard. Most of the residents slept in tents, under the stars, or in the vans that brought them to the farm. It was a peaceful, happy existence. And very much off the grid.
That summer the commune had been noticing odd changes in the weather surrounding the farm. Unusual wind gusts, almost tornado-like in intensity would appear above specific land masses. Wupakti Monument and Round Rock saw most of these occurrences. However, it was a simple stretch of desert near a magnificent Fan Palm tree formation that received the most intense storm activity. On the last day of the third cycle of storms, a tri-funneled tornado briefly touched down. Lightening abounded creating a beautiful display. The skies opened and a light rain fell for less than 10 minutes. The sky turned from blue, to purple, to yellow, to green, and back to blue again. Clouds of all descriptions and type littered the sky. And then, one all-encompassing thunderous boom, followed by the most earie of all silence. Not a bird, not the howl of the wind, not even a car whizzing by on the near-by highway could be heard. Even the goats kept silent.
Then, as if awakening from a dream, life returned. Birds tweeted and owls hooted, goats bleated, and the rushing sound of automobiles was heard once again on the highway. But with that came a strange shimmer of light, ascending over the entire camp. It hovered over the fire pit. It skirted between those folks enjoying a slow, carefree smoke of the indigenous weed. It seemed to grow livelier when smoke was exhaled, and after a while, it appeared brighter, larger, and well, friendly.
The farm folks called it Tinker, after the fairy in Peter Pan. Tinker gave the impression of having an intelligence. It skirted between some people and avoided others. It followed Roy around like a puppy, but never came into the house. It also appeared to enjoy the company of Anya, Roy's daughter. Anya would try to catch it, chasing the light as it flew around the farm. Oddly enough, it did not care for the goats, leaving Anya whenever she tended to her tribe. But it came bounding back to her when she left the goats behind. Tinker appeared to enjoy the smoke pit. And folks noted that if they had a wish or desire while around the pit when Tinker was present, their wish was granted.
The desires were usually for simple things, like a new pair of boots or toothpaste and a new tooth brush. Soon the wishes grew to include a new tent, or a cot with a mattress, a working latrine, and a fully functioning kitchen. At first Roy believed that the wishes were granted by a beneficent guest. Someone who overheard the simple requests. But when a large tent suddenly appeared overnight, complete with a fully functioning kitchen, and a full array of tables and chairs, followed by a latrine with several working showers and an unlimited supply of hot water Roy began to wonder if magic was afoot. Then the really odd thing happened. The sleeping tents were regulation size, the usual 12-18. But once inside they became massive, spacious, and almost voluminous. Sleeping quarters had beds, with soft downy comforters and king sized pillows, chairs, and a chest of drawers for every resident. One of the rainbow people mentioned it was like living inside the Tardis, bigger on the inside than on the out, and luxurious beyond belief.
Roy knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth so he swore the farm's inhabitants to secrecy. He did not care to have peepers walking in from the town, or worse, Government types looking to unnecessarily tax his meager income. Heck, as far as he knew the changes were all an illusion, capable of disappearing at a given moment. The folks who called the farm home shared his view. Many came there to escape the outside world, and anonymity was one of the few luxuries they all enjoyed. What was one more shared delusion?
CHAPTER 3
5 Years earlier – Cairo
The sun beat down as the archeological team descended the airplane. The heat was unlike that of Arizona. Not humid, and not dry, but scorching none-the-less. The brightness of the sun was blinding. Even the sunglasses worn by the travelers could not shield them from the onslaught of soleil. Mark Wanderhorse, Bruce, Ryce, and their sister Windsong Long Bow stood transfixed on the tarmac as they were greeted by their guide, and fellow scholar, Miles Jakison. He was followed by a pert brunette in a sundress, heels, a large floppy hat, wearing oversized sunglasses and carrying a parasol.
"Mark, Ryce, Bruce, and who do we have here?" exclaimed Miles as he took Windsong hand, twirling her around and kissing her hand. "Enchante madam. Who is this exquisite creature?"
Bruce disengaged Miles from Windsong stating, "This is my little sister, Windsong. She is a graduate student and here to help on the dig."
"So glad you made it. Landing at noon, brave of you. Were there no later flights? No-one I mean no-one travels in the heat of the day, but, you're from Arizona, you must be used to this heat."
Mark mopped the sweat from his brow, "Believe me Miles, even Arizona desert heat can't compare to this. This is blistering."
Just then the brunette made a harrumph and Miles turned, taking her by the waist and gently pushing her forward, "May I introduce Dr. Particia Mundari. Her university is one of the sponsors funding this site, and I should tell you, it may just prove to be major. We have found the entrance to what may be a lost pharaoh's tomb. The Department of Antiquities is all over it. We were able to enlist fifty or so locals to help with the heavy lifting. You four will be doing most of the authentication. And don't worry, we have portable air-conditioning units on site in many of the larger tents. It gets cold at night so they also double as heating units. Winny, my dear, I can call you Winny can't I, you will be bunking with Particia." Particia extended her hand and Windsong shook it.
"Come under my parasol Winny, it will offer some shade until we get into the building and the air. We'll get something to eat in the terminal. At least there they will have some normal cuisine. The food here is awful. If I eat any more beans or okra I will just die, of course there is fried liver and pigeon, but I, of course, prefer quail. They do a decent roast lamb, and there is chicken, but you can forget beef or pork. This is a Muslim country, and cows don't do well in this heat. So, you can forget a good steak, never mind a hamburger." Particia rambled on, Windsong just nodded at appropriate intervals and looked over her shoulder at her brothers and the handsome Mark Wanderhorse. Sighing deeply, Winny's shoulders drooped. "Miles, really, this girl is about to drop from heat exhaustion, you can tell the boys about the dig once we get inside where it is cooler." Particia said as she began to fan Windsong with her large, floppy hat.
"Thank God you're here Particia, or I would be forgetting my manners. Of course, you all must be famished and about to drop from this heat." Miles ushered the four inside and almost immediately they were beginning to feel refreshed as the cooler air began to revive them. A table was found at the airports international restaurant. Beers and ice teas were ordered, as well American style hamburgers, at Particia's insistence. "Might as well enjoy them now," said Particia, "it may just be the last familiar meal you'll need." Particia requested scotch, four fingers straight up, with a beer chaser, and began to gobble her fare as soon as it arrived at the table.
Between bites Particia rambled on, about this and that, how her family had been involved in antiquities in Italy long before they moved to the States. Her prattling caused Windsong to doze off more than once only to be pinched awake by Ryce or Bruce. Realizing that this might be considered rude Windsong excused herself to the restrooms to freshen up only to be accompanied by Particia who continued her discourse.
Particia not so subtly hinted that she was of noble blood and was distantly related to the Marquis of Montemuros. "It was such a shame, an absolute disgrace really, having to sell off many of the family's possessions after WWI. Well it was the only way to get the family out of Europe. The unification efforts made a shamble of the aristocracy. It was a disaster, being pulled by the Pope and the Catholics on one side and the Empire of the other. Napoleon and the French did nothing to help the families." Windsong splashed water on her face and neck in an attempt to keep awake and not have to reply to anything that Particia was saying. Not that Particia noticed. She was enamored with the sound of her own voice. Soon they were back at the table.
"Are you alright sis?" asked Ryce on her return.
Windsong sat back and whispered, "My god that woman rambles on. I swear Ryce, she continued to talk while in the stall. Some nonsense about being of royal blood going back before the 1850's."
Ryce stifled a laugh as a cough. "Remind me to get Mario Calpuzzio to tell you about Ms. Mundari lineage. Most of it is bluster and fable. The only truth is that her father is the head of a pizza empire back in Chicago, the King Pizza Palace, and his little princess gets everything she wants, including a blank check to fund part of this excavation."
"Don't we have one near Phoenix?"
"You are right sis; and not a bad piece of pie if I remember correctly. I believe the franchise includes Mama Mia's frozen Italian meals too." "I remember those, everything is frozen separately, you added the extras to the bread at home and popped it into the oven or microwave.
Inexpensive if you got them in bulk from the FedMart. Not that much meat in the sauce, but you could always add your own."
Particia glanced over at Winny and Ryce, not wanting to be left out of a conversation she smiled coquettishly. "Something I should know?" she asked.
Winny smiled shyly and stated, "Am I to guess, that you are the same Mundari that owns Mama Mia's Italian meals and King Pizza Palace?"
"You are familiar with my family's foods? How wonderful! So, now you understand why I am so frustrated by the lack of edible cuisine here in Egypt. It's atrocious really, my grandparents worked so hard to establish a brand. Grandfather had several international chefs from Italy and France working on his recipes. Of course, I was raised on only the best of the best." Particia rested her chin on her hands and gave her famous Mona Lisa smile.
CHAPTER 4
Cairo dig site
Once everyone was refreshed and the color had returned to Windsong cheeks Miles suggested loading up the van and heading out to the dig. Particia prattled on about the extreme heat of the day and the cold of the night, often waving her oversized hat as a fan, her other hand fluttering as a gesture of her displeasure at something or other. "Really, Winny, you'd think the University of Cairo would have more pleasurable accommodations; Egypt being up to their armpits in oil and all. But no. I had to make a call to Daddy just to get a decent bed and sheets. You must watch out for scorpions. They are all over. You must keep your boots upside-down or they will crawl right in. Trust me, you would not want to get bitten. That is why I called Daddy for a real bed, no sleeping bag for me, those creatures will make themselves at home. We lost a very obliging porter to a scorpion bite. True he was fluffing my linens at the time. To think it could have been me."
