Timecachers (9 page)

Read Timecachers Online

Authors: Glenn R. Petrucci

Tags: #Time-travel, #Timecaching, #Cherokee, #Timecachers, #eBook, #American Indian, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Trail of Tears, #Native American

He carried his briar pipe everywhere. He smoked only on occasion, and this evening’s solitary constitutional was the perfect opportunity. He joked that he sometimes used the pipe as a prop, to give him a wise, contemplative look whenever someone asked him a question he had no ready answer for. At work, his pipe gave him the look of an astute senior engineer. In the forest, dressed in jeans, flannel shirt, and wide-brimmed hat, he looked much like a country gentleman out for a stroll on his mountain estate.

While he was in high school, Tom expected he would attend the University of Virginia where his older brother and most of his friends had gone. UVA had a great engineering school, and even though they specialized in medical studies the school had provided accomplished engineers in many fields, and an engineering degree from UVA would open many doors for him. It was by chance that an online friend invited him for a visit to the Philadelphia area and to check out UPenn before making his final decision to attend UVA. Tom found that despite his dislike for the congested feeling of the Philly area, he was attracted by all that the area had to offer; not only the cultural urban amenities and close proximity to other metro areas, but the historical significance of the city and its structures fascinated him. Virginia had an intriguing history with its battlefields and presidential homes, and Philly gave him a similar thrill walking the streets of the town where the founding fathers had met to plan the beginnings of our great country. He loved wandering about the city inspecting its many magnificent granite buildings and spending time in the museums and libraries, looking through old photos, etchings, and drawings depicting the city from pre-colonial times to the present. He was soon convinced that UPenn could offer a great degree program as well as diversify his education with the culture and history that the area had to offer.

His folks were a little disappointed that he selected a college outside of his home state, but they understood his reasoning and supported his decision. Fitting in with the Philadelphia crowd was never an issue. The teachers and students were from all over the country, and the majority of the locals were a lot friendlier that he’d been led to believe. He had to admit they were more accepting than many of the folks in his own hometown, who tended to be provincial and sometimes untrusting of anyone not from the area. It also helped that he was well-spoken, and his slight Virginia accent gave his voice a friendly and refined quality-- a sharp contrast to the south Philly slur. His country charm and easygoing nature was pleasing enough, especially when combined with his southern old-school manners.

After his graduation, Tom was recruited by MBNA, formerly a large financial institution headquartered in Delaware, home to many corporations due to their business-friendly tax structure. MBNA was primarily a credit card company, and they were particularly interested in implementing web services for their customers—an innovative offering at the time. Tom was one of the few people local to the area who had expertise in secure financial transactions over the internet, and MBNA had the resources to make an offer very hard to refuse for someone right out of college. Taking the job at MBNA allowed Tom to move to New Castle, Delaware, a tiny, well-preserved colonial town that suited his historical interests and was a four hour drive from Charlottesville. While the job was financially rewarding, Tom began to feel disenchanted with the company as they made more and more demands on his personal time. He felt that the management had little regard for the personal well-being of their employees, and was concerned by the numerous accusations of shady dealings and questionable ethics against some of the corporate officers. He eventually left MBNA to work for the OSI software quality department, where he met the rest of the team. His background in software development made him especially valuable as a test engineer. He was offered a position in development engineering when OSI eliminated their software testing department, but he declined, opting to try his luck as a freelance contractor instead.

Tom watched as the setting sun streaked the sky with orange and red as he walked quietly along the trail. He snapped his vest closed as he felt the chill of the evening mountain air slowly spill down into the tiny valley. Darkness would come more quickly here than at the higher elevations, and he knew he would not have time to walk all the way to the pond and make it back to the campsite before nightfall. He enjoyed his solitary walks, and was accustomed to walking alone in the nighttime woods under the light of the moon and stars. He knew the others would be concerned if he did not return while it was still light, so he reversed course, heading back toward the campsite.

Tom had read the documentation and listened to Adam’s explanations of the technology behind the LANav, and shared his excitement about testing something so new and unique, but he could not shake the feeling that there was something mysterious about this project. There seemed to be something that just didn’t fit; out of kilter, like an image drawn with slightly mismatched proportions. He wondered what information was being withheld from them. He couldn’t understand the reasoning behind selecting an independent group, such as they were, to do the type of research they were about to do. Usually a company with potentially ground-breaking technology wanted to keep it closely guarded, not farm out the research to an independent testing company. Perhaps they already knew what the beacons were, but hoped a fresh set of minds could figure out a marketable use for them. Or, perhaps they had already discounted the anomalies as meaningless but used them as an enticement to Adam. He shrugged off his uneasiness; he was being paid to conduct a test, not question the motives, and at least he was getting outdoors for a few days in a gorgeous wilderness area.

Tom’s archeological and anthropological pastimes included the study of American Indian culture and exploring ruins from the colonial and pre-colonial periods. Tom had American Indian ancestors on both sides of his family, but his attempts to uncover his genealogy any further back than his grandparents were thwarted by a lack of records for that part of his family tree. It was almost as if those members of his family didn’t want to be traced. He didn’t harbor any false hope that he would ever learn much more about his own family’s descendants, but learning some facts about the American Indian way of life in this part of the country gave him a tiny feeling of connection with those mysterious ancestors. He knew there were a few Indian ruins nearby, and hoped he would get a chance to investigate them. It would make the trip to Georgia worthwhile for him, even if the LANav proved to be less groundbreaking than everyone hoped.

Tom returned to the campsite just as Adam was preparing to contact Dr. Odan.

“Oh, yes, I agree completely with your team’s recommendation,” Ed Odan’s voice replied through the earpiece of the LANav. They were well outside of any cell phone service area, but the LANav’s satellite communications were working flawlessly. “In fact, the other engineers here at TSO are anxious to discover the meaning of the beacons, but the investors are most eager to learn if the effectiveness of our device is improved in any way, you see.”

“In that case,” answered Adam, “we will spend the rest of the evening preparing to start the beacon research in the morning. As you know, our plan for this part of the project is to simply follow the LANav to the first beacon and record our findings. After we observe the location of the first beacon, we can make a decision about how to proceed. If warranted, we’ll return to the site prepared to backpack in with enough supplies to last several days in the backcountry. We know there are additional beacons further on, possibly on a projected path, and we’ll follow them to gather as much data as possible. We are likely to be hiking in some difficult terrain, requiring some strenuous and tiring effort, which is one reason why I originally scheduled this part of the testing last. When we return, we will complete the rest of the standard testing. Judging by how well the LANav has performed so far, completing the standard tests should not be too exhausting.”

“Your plan indeed sounds most acceptable,” said Odan. “Thank you for the update, Adam. The exemplary performance of the LANav is most gratifying. Please report the additional findings to me after you have made your observations at the first beacon, before you begin your backpacking journey. We’re all looking forward to your report, you see, and would like updates from each of the subsequent beacons. Oh yes, be sure to enjoy yourselves, and for goodness sake, please make the safety of your team a priority.”

Chapter nine

T
he testing team was excited about the next phase of the project. They had done field testing of products before, but nothing had given them the opportunity for such an adventure. They all loved outdoor activities, and could hardly believe they were actually getting paid to have so much fun. Their voices and gestures were infused with excitement as they discussed the details of tomorrow’s tasks. Even Tom, normally staid and unemotional, was animated with anticipation.

Their exhilarated mood mellowed during the preparation of the evening’s campfire dinner, as the fatigue of the day’s hiking in the Cohutta Wilderness Area set in. They brought along standard freeze dried backpacking rations, but only as a standby whenever “real” food was not available. Adam’s fishing yielded three decent-size native trout for them to share, which Tom offered to prepare using some of the pepper-weed seeds and other wild herbs he found on his solo hike. While Sal built the fire, Alice put together a salad from the tender spring dandelions, clover leaves, Day Lilly shoots, and wild onions and garlic she had gathered. She had a knack for food preparation, especially when it came to putting flavors together using native plants. She was adept at edible plant identification, and enjoyed researching the botanical specimens of each new area she visited. Her love of botany and cooking provided her companions with many gastronomic treats on their camping trips. She had no qualms about a woman doing the bulk of the food preparation; it was something she enjoyed and did not consider her gender to be relevant. She occasionally imparted the chore to one of the others, usually enjoying the variety of culinary style. Tom was pretty good at putting together a tasty meal, while Adam’s concoctions ranged anywhere between delightful and disaster, and Sal’s idea of meal prep was pretty much limited to ordering from a menu.

They were ravenous after their long hike in the fresh air, and the smell of the roasting trout had them drooling. While preparing the meal, their talk turned to reminiscing about past hiking and backpacking adventures they had shared, and how they wished all their projects could be like this one. All conversation ceased once they began eating, focusing their concentration on the delicious meal.

Dinner and cleanup were concluded quickly, and they unanimously agreed that dinner was the best they ever had. They had already completed as much preparation for tomorrow’s work as they could, and were anxious to kick back and enjoy the quiet evening at the campsite.

Appetites slaked, they sat staring into the glowing red embers of the campfire, nibbling on a dessert of trail mix, watching the indigo sky transform to a black and silver star field. Stars filled the heavens without the artificial lights of a nearby city to obscure them, while the waxing gibbous moon softly illuminated their campsite with a gentle glow. They listened to the evening melody of the forest transform into a nighttime song, the slosh and gurgle of the stream combined with frogs, insects, and other creatures, all competing for a leading part in the symphony. They spoke in low, quiet voices as they discussed tomorrow’s journey.

“In the morning,” said Adam, “we’ll hike back out to the trailhead and take the SUV to Fort Mountain State Park, just east of Chatsworth. The state park will be a good place to leave the SUV for a few days. It looks like we can reach the first beacon by starting out on the Gahuti trail, a fairly well-used backcountry trail that has a trailhead at the state park.”

“How far off the trail is the first beacon?” Alice asked.

“The Gahuti trail is about an eight mile loop around the state park, but we will only take it for a short distance before picking up another trail that leads to a stone wall Indian ruin near the top of Fort Mountain. From the ruins, we’ll go off the trail for only about a half-mile to the beacon. Looking at the SAT maps, there doesn’t appear to be any trails closer to the beacon. It’s in a ravine on the northeast side of the mountain. I expect that last half-mile to be pretty rugged.”

“Dude, when I looked at the maps I saw a couple roads that looked pretty close to the beacon. Wouldn’t it be better to start hiking from one of those roads?” asked Sal.

“You’re right, there are a couple of roads, but remember we have the mountains to deal with,” Adam said. “By starting from the state park, we can drive most of the way up the mountain and not have such a drastic climb as we would if we started from one of the other roads. We also avoid private property, and the state park gives us a good place to park the SUV.”

“We’ll also get to investigate the ruins by going to the park,” said Tom.

“Yeah, I’d like to check those out, too,” said Sal. “Hey, here’s one for ya—why was the archeologist depressed? Because his career was in ruins!” Sal heard the groans of the others as he dodged a piece of trail mix Alice threw at him.

“Oh, my, on that note, I’m going to bed,” Alice said as she stood up and brushed the dirt from the seat of her cargo pants.

“Sleep tight,” said Sal, “but watch out for bears. You know they always go for the babes first,” he said, attempting to frighten her out of a few minutes sleep.

“I’m not worried,” she replied. “You’re the one sleeping next to the spot where Tom cleaned the fish.”

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