He was damned proud of all he’d accomplished over the years, but this satellite dish array was beyond anything he’d ever imagined so long ago when he and Zianne first made their plans.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that everyone was awake and paying attention. They had to be wondering about the turn from the two-lane highway to the narrower county road, or maybe they felt his excitement, sensed the edge he was riding.
Or maybe a bit of both. “The site is less than a mile from here,” he said, taking another tight turn as they followed the county road for a short distance. “We’ll be turning on to GEO-MAP property in just a bit and starting the climb up the side of the mountain. We don’t go all the way to the top—our site is on a rather large plateau that’s at the seven-thousand-foot elevation point. We’re in national forest land, and this was one of the few places I was able to purchase privately that fit my criteria.”
“We’re a hell of a long way from the closest bar.”
Finn’s dry comment had everyone laughing.
“No problem.” Mac glanced over his shoulder. “I happen to appreciate a glass of wine or a good stiff drink once in a while. I think you’ll find everything you need at the site.”
“Including protestors. Wow! Who are those dudes?”
“Well, Cameron ...” Mac had been hoping they’d be gone by now. Obviously, security hadn’t been successful at clearing them away, but at least they were outside the gates. Unfortunately, they had every legal right to be there.
“What the hell’s that all about?” Morgan leaned forward.
Mac slowed the vehicle as they got closer to the small group of men and women gathered on the road. “That’s the gate to the array. It’s locked, and I doubt they want trespassing charges, but this isn’t the welcoming committee I was hoping for.”
Cameron read the largest of the signs aloud. “ ‘No mere man may map God’s heavens’? What the fuck? I don’t get it.”
“That, my friend, is how narrow minds find fault with the name of a project they haven’t even tried to understand. They’re convinced DEO-MAP, which they’ve dubbed the God Project, is my attempt at mapping the heavens to disprove the existence of God.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Morgan shook his head, laughing. “I’m amazed there are enough people living around here to get this many together for a party, much less a protest.”
“I’m beginning to think it’s their version of a social life.” Mac turned around and grinned at Morgan. “Like Finn said, we’re a long way from the closest bar.”
Finn just shook his head. “How do we handle this, boss?”
“We ignore it,” Mac said. “Security called me when we stopped for lunch in Burney, so I knew they might still be here, but we should have someone from the sheriff’s department before too long. There’s no reasoning with narrow minds. Besides, if they knew what we were really planning, they’d probably call for reinforcements.”
“How far are we from the actual array?”
Rodie sounded concerned, but Mac had heard about her assault shortly after they’d started the selection process and wondered if this sort of thing might upset her. “Your living quarters and the array itself are another half mile up the road. The entire area is fenced and monitored, so they can’t get any closer than this gate. We’ve got good security, so once we’re on private property, we shouldn’t have any trouble with them.”
He drove forward slowly, and most of the dozen or so men and women moved aside. Three men, however, blocked the entrance and stood in front of the electric gate.
Mac rolled down the window. “Move aside, please.”
“Sorry, Dugan, but we can’t allow that.” The largest of the three men planted the stake to his sign on the road in front of him and leaned on the top. His long gray hair curled over his shoulders and he wore a loose shirt that gave him the appearance of a modern saint—or possibly a pirate. “We condemn this hellish project. Do not bring more people here to do the devil’s work. Not in God’s country. Do not desecrate our beautiful mountains.”
“Well, Mr. Roberts, you’re standing in front of my gate to my part of the mountain right now. If you don’t move, I’ll have to call out the sheriff again. We’ve had a long drive and we’d like to get home.”
“Looks like reinforcements are already here.” Finn pointed at the four-wheel-drive SUV pulling up behind them.
“Good. I had security tell the sheriff when we expected to arrive, that we might need help.” Mac climbed out of the car and met the deputy. “Hi, Ted. If you can get us through the gate, we’ll be fine. They’re welcome to stay out here, as long as they stay off my property, for as long as they want.”
“Not a problem.” The deputy, a tall, lanky guy with short, cropped hair shoved his hat firmly on his head and walked around the Escalade while Mac got back inside. Within moments, the small group of protestors had moved out of the way. Mac punched in the code for the gate and they were through.
“I had hoped they would already be gone.” Mac adjusted the rearview mirror and watched the gate close behind them. “We’ve had trouble with them since the project was first announced. Bart Roberts objected on general principles in the beginning when I applied for the permits to build, but once the name was made public, he pulled in the others and started in on the religious aspects. In fact, I suspect he was the one behind Kiera’s lawsuit. What’s frustrating is that they’re not associated with any church, and I’ve heard that Roberts is paying folks to stand out there and wave signs. With the economy as poor as it is, especially up here, people will do anything for a paycheck, but he’s whipping up an issue that doesn’t really exist.”
“Personally, I like the name,” Lizzie said. “There’s something sort of wonderfully pretentious about ‘the God Project.’ ” She laughed. “Not that I don’t like DEO-MAP, but you have to admit, it is sort of catchy.”
“Catchy is fine,” Mac deadpanned. “Blocking my gate isn’t.” He followed the narrow road up the switchback, concentrating on the drive during the steepest part, before adding, “Protesting and threatening my people rubs me the wrong way, especially when my gut tells me something else is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is. Hopefully, they’ll get tired of waving signs at no one and go home.”
He took the final steep turn, drove over a small rise, and pulled out on to the plateau. As it always did, the view made him catch his breath. Twenty years to reach this point. Twenty long fucking years, and damn, but it was so beautiful.
The array spread out before them, fifty large satellite dishes all pointing at the heavens. Dusk had settled in around them, turning the sky from pale peach at the horizon to darkest navy overhead. Pale moonlight reflected off the huge white dishes so that each one seemed to glow as if the light came from within.
The view was unworldly, ethereal. Best of all, it was functional—the tools to bring Zianne and her people to Earth.
Mac pulled himself back to reality, felt the excitement, the sense of disbelief as the six young men and women took in the sight of what most of them had only imagined. He thought how young they seemed, but then he realized he’d been even younger when he and Zianne first imagined this project, long before he knew she’d not be working by his side while he got it built.
Had he been this ready for adventure? This excited about everything around him? This open?
Damn. He felt so old beside them. Old and jaded. He wanted that excitement back, and then he realized that it was here for the taking. Here, on this plateau, with their dreams and his experience and the hope of an entire race of people.
He couldn’t help but think this must look like something out of the latest science fiction novel, but wasn’t his love for Zianne exactly that? Something that belonged in a fantasy, not real life? He gazed at the first stars just beginning to show and wondered where she was now, if she was all right.
No. He couldn’t worry about that. Not if he wanted to bring her safely home. He had to believe she was fine, that she was getting her people ready for the rescue that he hoped would happen over the next few days.
He turned in his seat and studied his team as they stared out across the silent array. The plateau was huge—almost a mile across with forest covering part of it, a view of the mountain to the west and the Nevada desert to the east. All of it bathed now in that mystical half-light between daylight and dusk with the full moon rising through twilight along the eastern edge.
No one said a word. Mac sensed their awe, knew they were as overwhelmed by the sight spread out across the plateau as he always was. He heard the back doors open, then the passenger side as the six silently crawled out of the Escalade and walked around to the front. He joined them, standing quietly in the background, soaking up the myriad thoughts swirling among six amazing minds.
After a long moment, Morgan turned to Mac with an unexpected look of wonder. He seemed so cynical and jaded most of the time, but now his eyes were wide, his senses so tangled that he projected thoughts that bounced all over the place.
“This is beyond anything I imagined. I’ve seen the Allen Array, but this ... holy shit, Mac. How long did it take to build?”
Mac let out a deep breath. Pushed thoughts of Zianne to the back of his mind. “Six years for the array, though it’s taken almost fifteen to get the roads in, the fences built, wells dug, and power brought in. Fifteen years and almost sixty million dollars, and yes, I’ve done this without any outside funding.”
He almost laughed at Morgan’s raised eyebrow. “I know. A lot of money to follow a dream, but trust me, it’s money I fully expect to recoup. I just wish I could get back some of the years.” He laughed softly, shaking his head at the memories. “I’ve had to deal with terrible weather, bad roads, and endless government permits. Now I’ve got a bunch of nuts out front who don’t understand what I’ve built or why we’re here.” He shook his head, amazed by the hurdles he’d had to jump to reach this point, but it was done and the site was as ready as it was going to be.
He was ready, and with any luck, the six of them were ready. “It wasn’t easy,” he said. “But it’s done. Just waiting for the six of you.” Then he turned back to the car and stood beside the open door. “Get in. I’ll drop you off at your cabins. Take some time to get settled, and then we’ll meet in the main lodge for dinner in about half an hour. I’ll give you a quick rundown on what I want you to do. With any luck, you can start working your shifts tonight.”
5
C
ameron Paisley put his belongings away in the bank of drawers built into the large closet in the bedroom. He’d figured they would be living in some kind of glorified dorms, but the log cabin Mac had brought him to was fantastic. There was a small kitchen complete with a sink, refrigerator, microwave, and toaster oven, a living area that was twice again as large as the kitchen with comfortable furnishings, and in the back, a separate bedroom and bathroom.
The six cabins were identical, each with its own front porch, built all of logs with a small woodstove as well as a heating system for winter nights. They had tin roofs equipped with solar panels, and all six of the cabins were arranged equidistant around the main lodge where they’d be meeting later for dinner.
Mac had said his rooms were upstairs in the lodge. They’d take their meals on the main floor, and there was a fully equipped gym in the basement with a lap pool for year-round use, plus a separate bunkhouse for security people and the few technicians and staff who would remain on the site.
They were responsible for keeping their own cabins as neat as they wanted, but housekeeping would provide fresh linens and towels. There was a laundry at the back of the lodge and even a fully stocked bar.
Hell, he didn’t have it this good at home, and he had one hell of a nice place. This was really sweet.
Kiera was in an identical cabin on one side and Lizzie on the other. Finn’s cabin was next to Lizzie’s, then Rodie’s, Morgan’s, and back to Kiera’s. The array spread out across the huge plateau to the east of them, with all those big dishes pointing skyward and covering all points visible in space. Mac had explained that once any form of contact was made, the dishes would turn in unison to lock onto the signal.
Trapping even the most distant pulses of energy, even as they sent energy outward from whomever was on duty at the time.
Mind-blowing
didn’t come close to describing it.
Cam shoved the last of his clothes into the drawers and glanced at the bed. King-sized beds in all the cabins. That had certainly caught his attention. Kicked his already healthy libido into overdrive as well when he imagined things he could do with a willing partner and all that room.
Any one of the women along on this project would be more than welcome. All three of them were gorgeous, each in her own way. Gorgeous, with open minds when it came to sex.
Why did he feel as if this was a surfeit of riches?
Grinning, Cam wandered out of the bedroom and checked the main living area. Even with the big leather couch and comfortable chairs, there was plenty of room to set up his easel. He’d been assigned the southernmost cabin. Mac explained he’d picked this one for Cam because it had the best daytime light for painting.
He checked a storage closet in the main room and found tarps and cleaning supplies for his brushes and stacks of stretched canvas, all ready to go. Amazing.
Mac’s foresight was impressive—and thoughtful, too. Cam hadn’t even thought of what his workspace would be like when he’d packed his supplies—he’d only known he needed a break, that his dreams weren’t coming to him as regularly as he needed, and Mac’s project sounded far enough out of the ordinary to maybe kick-start his brain.
He glanced up at the perfect skylight over his head. He’d have exactly the light he needed to paint during daylight hours.
Then he checked his watch. No time now to unpack the rest of his stuff. He’d deal with it after dinner. His shift didn’t start until midnight.
Cam fully expected to start work tonight—on both projecting his fantasies into space and the newest painting. He gazed skyward and freed his thoughts, staring at the dark skylight and emptying his mind, the way he did when he drew on his fantasy images to paint.