Once outside, the three were still speechless as to why the man called Toby went to such generous lengths to free them. Finally, Michael spoke up.

"So can you please tell us what that was all about in there? Why you would do something like that? You did probably save Blake and me some serious trouble with the police."

"There's someone ya'll are gonna meet over in Colorado," Toby said while walking. "He'll explain this a whole lot better to you folks. I'm just here make'n sure you get there."|

Michael looked as Tuwa.

"And why would . . . he  be so interested in all of us  then?" she asked the stranger.

"That's someth'n you'd best ask him, ma'am. But I can tell you . . . all ya'll's questions are gonna be answered over there if you come with me."

"Are you working for Dr. Berling," Tuwa asked, while Toby led them into the shade of the motel.

"Don't work for him, ma'am. But he's involved in this."

"In what?" Michael asked impatiently.

"We best be on our way, folks," Toby answered quickly, inviting them toward an immaculate large-cab, Dodge Ram pick-up.

"Look," Tuwa said, irritated. "I was supposed to meet with Dr. Chris Berling today. Are you aware of that?"

"Yes ma'am. He'll be await'n there for us too. I'm here to give you folks a lift to that meeting. Dr. Chris Berling will be there with my boss.

"Your boss?

"That's right, Miss. Mr. Greg Lancomb."

"Michael?  Should we go along with this?"

Michael was pensive and expressionless. "Sure, Tuwa. I think it's time we hear from your Dr. Berling and our friend Toby here's boss . . . Mr. Lancomb. It's time for some explaning. So, you taking us there, Toby?"

"Yup. That's the plan, folks."

"OK, let's go," Michael said, now eagerly.

They all comfortably got into the shiny Dodge truck and Toby sped off out of town. They were headed northwest, towards the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Just up the highway was the border between New Mexico and Colorado, known as "four corners."

* * *

As the truck left the mostly desert terrain, the land soon became greener and they skirted a few small rivers. It was water from melted snow, feeding the land from the higher elevations of the Rockies. Besides the greener coloration, the distant peaks loomed huge on the horizon. Outside the view became more impressive and the foliage seemed to scintillate with rich colors.

"So how do you know Dr. Berling," Tuwa asked Toby as they sped along the desolate road.

"Chris?  He spends time with Mr. Lancolm. Especially these last few days. Things are really jump'n right now for some reason."

"Why do you suppose that is, Toby?" Michael asked.

"Don't know really. But lately Chris and Mr. Lancolm are as nervous as a cat shit'n glass. Guess that's why they're both call'n you folks in right now."

"What sort of work is your boss into," Blake innocently asked.

"Well . . . I guess he'll explain all that to you when you meet him."

"Yeah, let's hope so," Michael said.

At that moment Tuwa's cell phone started to ring. She took it out of her pocket.

"Hello? . . . Chris?  That you?"

She quickly switched the phone to broadcast mode for Michael's sake.

"Yeah. You guys with Toby?"

Tuwa looked over at Michael, noticeably relieved.

"Yeah Chris. He sort of intercepted us at the motel. We weren't sure if it was good decision to follow him. But he did bail us out of some trouble there at the hotel."

"No, you did right, Tuwa. He's a good guy. He was sent to make sure you got here safe."

Toby looked over at Michael and nodded proudly.

"Chris . . . what's this all about? When you called me this morning, I . . ."

"Just go ahead with our meeting up here, Tuwa. You'll pass through the Mesa Verde Visitors Center and Toby will drive you to the Cliff Palace parking area. I'll meet you there at the overlook."

"Alright. I'm sure Toby just copied that." She closed the phone.

Again Toby just nodded slightly and kept his eyes on the road. 

After thirty more minutes, the truck pulled up to the entrance to the Mesa Verde National Park visitor center, where their driver showed a pass to the security ranger. Tuwa also got out her archeologist identification to show them. The vehicle was passed through quickly.

Toby seemed to know the park roads well, and within a quarter hour they were at a high elevation on a wooded mesa with a view of the massive canyons and impressive Native American cliff swellings below. He drove his truck over to the parking area and brought it to a stop.

"Come'on, ya'll. This is where we'll meet."

Everyone got out and walked over to the remarkable overlook, showcasing the complex of apartment-looking mud and block structures in the distance. The stacked cubicles were vertical and surprisingly modern-looking. There were rustic wooden ladders reaching the upper levels of the two and three story dwellings. All the structures were neatly tucked under the overhang of a massive cliff.

Blake was impressed with the view and it did seem obvious to him that this ancient civilization of the Pueblo people must have had some issue with the sky above them. It seemed they wanted to be permanently hidden under the cliffs. He knew now from Tuwa's instruction that they all mysteriously disappeared several hundred years before the Spanish had arrived in the Americas.

No sooner had the small group taken in the breathtaking view, when two men walked up to them quietly. The first was a bespectacled, heavy set man in his late forties, He wore jeans and a faded red shirt. He also wore, almost comically, an Indiana Jones style hat.

"Tuwa! . . . it's been a while," he said, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Chris, this is Michael, a shaman from the Zuni reservation, also on holidays from Yale. And Blake . . . our friend . . . from California.

"Hello guys," the man who was obviously Dr Berling said, enthusiastically. He shook their hands, while smiling at each. For some reason he looked the longest into Blake's face.

"So, I'd like to introduce you all to my longtime colleague, Peter Lancolm," he said. "Resident here in Colorado . . . and a few other interesting places in the world."

The gentleman standing next to the archaeologist was tall, lean, and sported short-cropped, graying hair. He wore amber pilot flight-classes, and while nodding once, he reached out a hand to each of them in sequence saying only, "My pleasure."

To the three this aloofness seemed a bit chilling, and to Blake there was something very uncomfortably "military" about Lancolm. It was emphasized by his choice of khaki, desert colored clothing and sand-colored military boots. He had a tanned face that spoke of being an active individual, career-trained somewhere, and doing something while constantly in the sun.

"Tuwa, Peter is here to explain a matter that has become . . . well, of great importance to the work we do."

"Please," the military-style gentleman directed, pointing with an open hand. "Sit over here on the stone railing while I debrief you."

It was a strange command and an even stranger situation that they had been brought out to this remote location to hear something most likely related to what they had discovered and gone through only days before.

"I've chosen this spot to inform you about my work," Mr. Lancolm said. "Firstly, because it shows dramatically behind you how a certain people of the Earth had at one time been influenced by just one culture of extra-terrestrials. They were a universe life form from our own galaxy. Beings  which the U.S. government has continued to generically call, EBEs . . . Extraterrestrial Biological Entities."

All were silent.

"But as you three have discovered over the past thirty-six hours, there are a variety of extra-terrestrials who have . . . for different reasons, and over past millennia, made regular and sustained contact with our species. And these more benevolent races have generally visited our planet for the purpose of informing us. To evolve us."

A familiar chill went up Blake's spine as he heard this.

"Though . . . Michael and Tuwa . . . no one needs to tell you this, as you're on the frontlines along with your tribes with this esoteric information. As with us, you're fighting a foe which has worked strategically and institutionally for seventy-some  years to misinform and disinform the public about all alien life forms. I'm talking about the government and its military black budget culture that constantly defeats us."

"And who exactly is . . .us?"  Michael patiently asked.

"Michael your Native American connection to these alien races is a matter of fact. And it has a long history, as Tuwa, I, and Mr. Lancolm all know. Other indigenous and ancient Earth cultures also have known this. But now there are many others who are patently aware that we are not alone in the universe. There is emerging a hidden worldwide network of us who refuse to tolerate the cover-up any longer."

"Wow," Tuwa said. "Chris . . . I had no idea you were working with such an organization."

"Tuwa, after so much evidence that you and I have brought out of the ground these past years, it didn't take me long when Peter here invited me in to get involved with his group."

"Today," Mr. Lancolm continued, "in light of what we know you three have remarkably accomplished, we're hoping you to will commit to the cause with us of full alien recognition and eventual disclosure on a wide scale."

Michael looked at both men perceptively, bit still skeptically.

"Alright. Your cause is worthy," he said. We all support this work. But how is it that you know of  recent developments associated with us? Those . . . accomplisments  you're speaking of?"

"Fair question," Mr, Lancolm answered. "I used to work for the government and jointly with the military. For years I served on many technical and high security issues. It's a long story, but I'm pretty well checked-out on what the clandestine arm of the government is doing and the technology they use to pull off their lengthy and effective propaganda campaign."

Tuwa looked at Michael for his response.

"Specifically, I happen to own a couple of high-altitude, radar deflecting drones, equiped with state-of-the art high resolution video cameras," he continued. "We've been watching your movements, particularly your discovery of a cache of discs over in Monument Valley. We know you made this unprecedented find there. And we are aware the military quickly intervened and confiscated it."

Michael's face was blank. He and the others were for the moment speechless.

"We also are aware that the three of you had a close encounter with aliens aboard their craft. You were probably informed to some degree about those discs. Their purpose and significance. We know we need to bring you into our organization now. For to our knowledge, the military has not had such an encounter in many decades. You may be of assistance in helping us win the war of truth and disclosure we have been fighting for years." 

Again Blake felt the hair on the back of his neck raise and tingle. He also felt the palms of his hands had become moist with anxiety.

"We also feel what you may now know is too valuable to not be protected, as your health and well-being may now be in grave danger."

"From?"  Blake let the word slip out undcontrolably.

"Your own government, son. There is no limit to what they would do to any of you three to be better informed about what you have learned. We feel a tremendous responsibility to protect you all now. You see, it's frankly a matter of your own protection."

Tuwa stood up and moved closer to Mr. Lancolm. "So what do you want us to do now? Here?" she asked softly.

"I simply want you to come to my house. It's not far from here. I've planned a meal for us. There are a few things I know you will be interested in seeing and discussing further with Chris and I."

She looked back at Michael. The two still seemed in a state of shock  by what they had just learned. Neither were fully able to express how they felt.

"Alright," Michael finally said. "We're in."

Both Chris and Peter Lancolm gave a nod and smile of affirmation.

"But I have just one more question," Michael said. His face was still serious and concerned, but his body was now relaxed and in control.

"Are you also providing the beer for me and my friends here?" He put his hands affectionately on Blake's and Tuwa's shoulders. An ease in tension was felt by all, and a true smile broke out on both the older men's faces.

"Absolutely!" Peter said. "And there'll be some of the best California wine on hand as well.

Tuwa's expression remained stoic, however. It was only after Michael tussled her hair in a further tension-releasing gesture did she smile too, joining them as they walked back to the parking lot with Chris and Peter.

* * *