Government Men by Gary J. Davies
CHAPTER 30
MORE CHIEFS, UTAH BOUND
When asked by an anthropologist what the Indians called America before the white man came, an Indian said simply, "Ours."
- Vine Deloria, Jr.
The addition to the Team of the Law and Order Governor of Arizona, Chiricahua Apache Chief Latanna, was an event not soon to be forgotten. Everyone had seen him on VISICOM, of course, but he made an even stronger impression in person. An Arizona State University football hero who turned down millions of NFL dollars to become a Harvard Law School graduate, he was already a legendary figure before he embarked on his meteoric political career. As a County Sheriff, as State Attorney General, and even as Governor, he thrilled the public with his continued hands-on involvement in law enforcement. Thanks largely to him, Arizona now boasted the most severe criminal sentences and the lowest crime rates per capita in the nation.
The B-Team received unaccustomed VIP treatment from the Governor. After sneaking around between 7-Elevens and WAWAs for a while it was a welcome change. Minutes after COMing the President, elements of the Arizona State Police located and escorted the Bus towards Phoenix.
The B-Team never got to see the Governor's famous Mansion featuring Apache decor, however. In another half an hour a motorcycle patrolman wearing an Indian war bonnet signaled the Bus to pull to the side of the road, where a helicopter sat. It was jet black, with the words 'Super Chief' written on the side. From it issued the imposing figure of Chief Latanna, who ran lightly to the Bus and knocked on the door. He was bearing a knapsack and four gut-busting buckets of The Colonel's original finger-licking-good chicken!
"Dr. Bates I presume?" said the well-mannered gentleman in his mid-thirties. Bates introduced the Governor to the Team. He was an enormously impressive specimen, as evidenced by the reactions of the entire Team, the women in particular. He was over six feet, three inches tall and of solid, athletic build, with strong chin, piercing eyes, and handsome features. His jet black hair was shoulder length and held in place by a blue headband that matched well his unadorned policeman's uniform. He moved smoothly with grace, and without a wasted motion, like a great cat.
But much more impressive than his physical attributes was his electrifying personality. He was an imposing presence, but at the same time immediately likable. He spoke with a deep steady voice; each thought that he expressed seemed to be carefully considered. He exuded self-confidence and determination, but not arrogance. Rather, perhaps because he was such an attentive listener, the strongest impression he gave was one of a human being with overwhelming interest and concern for issues, but even more for people. He was charisma personified.
On top of that, Milo and the Governor also immediately hit it off very well, which once again was a good enough recommendation for Bates, who knew enough not to trust his own instincts. And finally, and not least, there were the four buckets of deep fried chicken. Chief Latanna was an instant hit.
"The President and Jigs both briefed me, Dr. Bates. I gather we are to pick up Winnebago and then head for Utah.”
"That's right, Governor. But just call me Bates; it's easier than Narbando.”
The Governor smiled broadly. "Sure, and just call me Steve. Is there anything I can do to help?”
"Yes," said Flood. "But first please pass me a couple drumsticks. Original recipe, if you have them. Wow, thanks! Sir, can we fly under your chopper for cover? We aren't sure of the cloaking effectiveness of our force field relative to the detection capabilities of the Ra, and they may have spacecraft in the area. So far we've avoided flying extensively except under an aircraft.”
Steve got on the COM and in less than a minute they were flying East under the black helicopter. It was a jet powered craft and was able to sustain over 300 km/hr.
In fifteen minutes they were parked outside Winnebago's home. This time Winnebago immediately came running out of his house towards the Bus carrying a small suitcase. He was in the Bus and yammering at Bates before he even noticed Steve.
"Let’s split boys, that's the Arizona top cop's chopper! Holy Shit! I've been had!” He stared bug-eyed at The Law and Order Governor for a moment, then dropped his suitcase and shot back towards the door, only to find that it had been closed and that the Bus was already lifting off the ground. He leaned with his hands up against the doorframe and his feet spread apart.
Steve resisted the impulse to frisk him, and instead shook his hand. "Relax, Winnebago," he said. "Our investigation of you still isn't complete. I'm here in a strictly unofficial capacity. As your assistant.”
Winnebago was dumbfounded.
"Why don't you take a seat towards the back, Winnebago, and we'll talk about it in a few minutes, after I've talked with Dr. Bates," said the Governor.
The helicopter headed North with the Bus flying along closely underneath it. The Governor, fascinated with the Bus, sat behind Flood, and looked over his shoulder to watch the pilot at his work while Bates filled him in on the mission. After only a few minutes, they were intercepted by a much faster fixed wing jet aircraft of the Governor's, which took the place of the helicopter. Soon they were traveling North at over a thousand kilometers an hour at a slightly higher altitude.
At this rate, they would be in Northern Utah in another 40 minutes. They had already passed over the Navaho land that occupied much of Northern Arizona. It was a shame in a way; beautiful countryside flashed by much too quickly to fully appreciate on this bright, sunny, crisp morning.
The only landmarks that Bates recognized were Glen Canyon and Lake Powell, but other spectacular red-rock canyons, cliffs, and mountains were always visible in one direction or another from their altitude. He told himself that he was overdue for a long vacation out West, despite the rattlesnakes and other nasty aspects.
He certainly wouldn't want to live here. This was the Colorado Plateau, in which there was plenty of desert and shrub land, though there were scattered forests in high valleys and on jagged mountainsides that at least suggested water to support life beyond snakes, insects, and sagebrush. Rabbits and coyotes, probably.
To the West stretched the beginnings of the Great Basin, an even less hospitable, lava scarred wasteland. And, he noted, winter was arriving, though it was later than usual. Global warming, thought Bates. Even drastic ecologically sound measures taken world-wide hadn’t stopped the now inevitable climate change. Still, bright patches of snow were everywhere, particularly in the mountains, the further North they went.
Steve had something on his mind. "You said that you suspected that the Ra may be in the area, Commander. Have you not seen the VISICOM report on the incident at Phoenix General Hospital?”
"What incident?" asked Bates.
"Saturday morning? The flying saucer? Melberg and Lund?" asked Steve.
"Melberg? In Arizona? Do you mean Peter Lund, the NP Head?" responded Bates incredulously. "Please tell us about it."
The Governor related the Hospital incident to the Team, including how he and his police failed to apprehend Melberg and Lund on the roof, and the laughter and screams heard from the huge departing spacecraft.
Bates in turn explained to Steve the probable fate of Lund, based on the experience Barns nearly had with the Ra as an evening snack. "It's not a fate to wish on any person," mused Bates. "But since he was apparently responsible for the NP attack on us the previous night, I'm afraid I can't shed any tears over Mr. Lund."
"Oh, that reminds me," said Steve. "I'm supposed to pass on some messages from Enterprise City. Dr. Guthery, your wife sends her love and word that her patent is in stable condition and recovering well."
"WHAT?" shouted Mel, popping up and rushing forward. "You say my wife is in Enterprise City?”
"And what patient is she talking about?" asked Bates, hoping against hope.
"You don't know?" replied Steve. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize that. We evacuated Jane and Oscomb before Melberg arrived. Flew them straight to the Enterprise City Medical Center."
"Oscomb is alive?"
asked Bates.
"Yes, and doing fairly well, apparently," said Steve.
A cheer went up in the Bus, and hugs and high-fives were exchanged!
Bates collapsed into a Bus seat, took off his glasses, and wiped tears from his eyes. "But I don't understand!” he finally exclaimed. "When Mel COMed the hospital, he was told that Oscar had died!”
"A deception for consumption by the Ra and the press," explained Steve. "And it worked; at least Melberg didn't get to your people. I'm sorry that you were deceived also."
"But how did you get involved in this to begin with, and how did you know what to do?" asked Bates.
"Jigs COMed me before you arrived," explained Steve. "I've known Jigs for some time. He's an odd character, but he sometimes seems to have an uncanny sense of what's going to happen. Besides, he contributed lots of money to my last political campaign, with only one string attached.”
"What's that?" asked Bates.
"To help you people and this Bus. He described it all to me.”
"When did he do this?" asked Bates.
"Three years ago, during my last election campaign."
"Fudge Winkies!” muttered Bates. "Did he tell you anything else about the Ra, or us, or about riddles?”
"No, not really," began Steve, but the conversation was suddenly interrupted by exclamations from the back of the Bus and by Elizabeth, who came running wide eyed to the front of the Bus.
"Governor, Winnebago needs your help! It's Goyahkla!” She ran back, followed by Bates and Steve.
A strange sight greeted them when they arrived at the back of the Bus. Apparently, the Bus had left Apache airspace, for the Goyahkla curse was active once again. Winnebago, bound and gagged with rawhide strips, was floating five feet above the Bus isle. In the middle of the isle under Winnebago was a huge pile of dry sage brush, pine boughs, and antelope chips. Before this sat Goyahkla, chuckling to himself and rubbing two sticks together by means of what looked like a small bow loosely fitted with a leather strap that was wrapped around a stick. As he pulled on the 'bow' the leather strap spun the stick rapidly against a second stick. Already, smoke was rising from where the twirling stick was rubbing the dry pine bough.
"Stop that!” yelled Bates, as he reached out to untie Winnebago. But something invisible pushed him strongly back, and he ended up sitting on Norma's lap a few seats away, shaken but unhurt. Meanwhile, Janet and Elizabeth were talking to the ancient war chief in Spanish, with no apparent effect.
Suddenly, a commending voice riveted everyone. Chief Latanna walked towards Goyahkla, speaking authoritatively in Apache. Goyahkla rose and faced him, his eyes blazing. They exchanged heated words first, then sat down facing each other and talked for about ten minutes. Finally, they both laughed, got up, and each put a right hand on the other's shoulder. Goyahkla abruptly disappeared along with all he had brought. Winnebago fell whimpering and cursing to the floor with a heavy thud.
"What did you say to him?" asked Bates.
"Only truth," replied Steve. "That I am a Chiricahua chief. That I have Winnebago under my heel and will keep watch over him myself. That Indians have more power than ever, and that I am the leader of a state that includes millions of whites. That destruction of Earth would destroy all that the Apache and other Native Americans have fought the white man to achieve. And finally, I told him that we his children will need him soon, and that I will have Crooked Tongue call him when we are ready to talk with him again.”
"Who?" asked Elizabeth.
"Crooked Tongue. It's the name that was given to him by the Apache Tribal Council. He is also known more affectionately by some as Chief Winnebago."
"OK, so I've had a few minor misunderstandings with the Council," said Winnebago.
The conversation was interrupted by an order from Flood for everyone to sit down and fasten seat belts. They had arrived over the Uinta Mountains, and would be dropping in on General Mike Therman's ranch house.
Soon the Bus was plummeting into a wooded valley ringed on three sides by jagged peaks. They landed in the driveway next to an exquisite log house, where they were soon greeted by Therman. He was a robust black man in his mid-sixties, of average height and build. He was accompanied by a strikingly beautiful, tall, athletic looking black woman perhaps in her late twenties. Both she and the General were wearing western garb that protected them from the cold of a crisp December morning at over two kilometers altitude.
****
MORE CHIEFS, UTAH BOUND
When asked by an anthropologist what the Indians called America before the white man came, an Indian said simply, "Ours."
- Vine Deloria, Jr.
The addition to the Team of the Law and Order Governor of Arizona, Chiricahua Apache Chief Latanna, was an event not soon to be forgotten. Everyone had seen him on VISICOM, of course, but he made an even stronger impression in person. An Arizona State University football hero who turned down millions of NFL dollars to become a Harvard Law School graduate, he was already a legendary figure before he embarked on his meteoric political career. As a County Sheriff, as State Attorney General, and even as Governor, he thrilled the public with his continued hands-on involvement in law enforcement. Thanks largely to him, Arizona now boasted the most severe criminal sentences and the lowest crime rates per capita in the nation.
The B-Team received unaccustomed VIP treatment from the Governor. After sneaking around between 7-Elevens and WAWAs for a while it was a welcome change. Minutes after COMing the President, elements of the Arizona State Police located and escorted the Bus towards Phoenix.
The B-Team never got to see the Governor's famous Mansion featuring Apache decor, however. In another half an hour a motorcycle patrolman wearing an Indian war bonnet signaled the Bus to pull to the side of the road, where a helicopter sat. It was jet black, with the words 'Super Chief' written on the side. From it issued the imposing figure of Chief Latanna, who ran lightly to the Bus and knocked on the door. He was bearing a knapsack and four gut-busting buckets of The Colonel's original finger-licking-good chicken!
"Dr. Bates I presume?" said the well-mannered gentleman in his mid-thirties. Bates introduced the Governor to the Team. He was an enormously impressive specimen, as evidenced by the reactions of the entire Team, the women in particular. He was over six feet, three inches tall and of solid, athletic build, with strong chin, piercing eyes, and handsome features. His jet black hair was shoulder length and held in place by a blue headband that matched well his unadorned policeman's uniform. He moved smoothly with grace, and without a wasted motion, like a great cat.
But much more impressive than his physical attributes was his electrifying personality. He was an imposing presence, but at the same time immediately likable. He spoke with a deep steady voice; each thought that he expressed seemed to be carefully considered. He exuded self-confidence and determination, but not arrogance. Rather, perhaps because he was such an attentive listener, the strongest impression he gave was one of a human being with overwhelming interest and concern for issues, but even more for people. He was charisma personified.
On top of that, Milo and the Governor also immediately hit it off very well, which once again was a good enough recommendation for Bates, who knew enough not to trust his own instincts. And finally, and not least, there were the four buckets of deep fried chicken. Chief Latanna was an instant hit.
"The President and Jigs both briefed me, Dr. Bates. I gather we are to pick up Winnebago and then head for Utah.”
"That's right, Governor. But just call me Bates; it's easier than Narbando.”
The Governor smiled broadly. "Sure, and just call me Steve. Is there anything I can do to help?”
"Yes," said Flood. "But first please pass me a couple drumsticks. Original recipe, if you have them. Wow, thanks! Sir, can we fly under your chopper for cover? We aren't sure of the cloaking effectiveness of our force field relative to the detection capabilities of the Ra, and they may have spacecraft in the area. So far we've avoided flying extensively except under an aircraft.”
Steve got on the COM and in less than a minute they were flying East under the black helicopter. It was a jet powered craft and was able to sustain over 300 km/hr.
In fifteen minutes they were parked outside Winnebago's home. This time Winnebago immediately came running out of his house towards the Bus carrying a small suitcase. He was in the Bus and yammering at Bates before he even noticed Steve.
"Let’s split boys, that's the Arizona top cop's chopper! Holy Shit! I've been had!” He stared bug-eyed at The Law and Order Governor for a moment, then dropped his suitcase and shot back towards the door, only to find that it had been closed and that the Bus was already lifting off the ground. He leaned with his hands up against the doorframe and his feet spread apart.
Steve resisted the impulse to frisk him, and instead shook his hand. "Relax, Winnebago," he said. "Our investigation of you still isn't complete. I'm here in a strictly unofficial capacity. As your assistant.”
Winnebago was dumbfounded.
"Why don't you take a seat towards the back, Winnebago, and we'll talk about it in a few minutes, after I've talked with Dr. Bates," said the Governor.
The helicopter headed North with the Bus flying along closely underneath it. The Governor, fascinated with the Bus, sat behind Flood, and looked over his shoulder to watch the pilot at his work while Bates filled him in on the mission. After only a few minutes, they were intercepted by a much faster fixed wing jet aircraft of the Governor's, which took the place of the helicopter. Soon they were traveling North at over a thousand kilometers an hour at a slightly higher altitude.
At this rate, they would be in Northern Utah in another 40 minutes. They had already passed over the Navaho land that occupied much of Northern Arizona. It was a shame in a way; beautiful countryside flashed by much too quickly to fully appreciate on this bright, sunny, crisp morning.
The only landmarks that Bates recognized were Glen Canyon and Lake Powell, but other spectacular red-rock canyons, cliffs, and mountains were always visible in one direction or another from their altitude. He told himself that he was overdue for a long vacation out West, despite the rattlesnakes and other nasty aspects.
He certainly wouldn't want to live here. This was the Colorado Plateau, in which there was plenty of desert and shrub land, though there were scattered forests in high valleys and on jagged mountainsides that at least suggested water to support life beyond snakes, insects, and sagebrush. Rabbits and coyotes, probably.
To the West stretched the beginnings of the Great Basin, an even less hospitable, lava scarred wasteland. And, he noted, winter was arriving, though it was later than usual. Global warming, thought Bates. Even drastic ecologically sound measures taken world-wide hadn’t stopped the now inevitable climate change. Still, bright patches of snow were everywhere, particularly in the mountains, the further North they went.
Steve had something on his mind. "You said that you suspected that the Ra may be in the area, Commander. Have you not seen the VISICOM report on the incident at Phoenix General Hospital?”
"What incident?" asked Bates.
"Saturday morning? The flying saucer? Melberg and Lund?" asked Steve.
"Melberg? In Arizona? Do you mean Peter Lund, the NP Head?" responded Bates incredulously. "Please tell us about it."
The Governor related the Hospital incident to the Team, including how he and his police failed to apprehend Melberg and Lund on the roof, and the laughter and screams heard from the huge departing spacecraft.
Bates in turn explained to Steve the probable fate of Lund, based on the experience Barns nearly had with the Ra as an evening snack. "It's not a fate to wish on any person," mused Bates. "But since he was apparently responsible for the NP attack on us the previous night, I'm afraid I can't shed any tears over Mr. Lund."
"Oh, that reminds me," said Steve. "I'm supposed to pass on some messages from Enterprise City. Dr. Guthery, your wife sends her love and word that her patent is in stable condition and recovering well."
"WHAT?" shouted Mel, popping up and rushing forward. "You say my wife is in Enterprise City?”
"And what patient is she talking about?" asked Bates, hoping against hope.
"You don't know?" replied Steve. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize that. We evacuated Jane and Oscomb before Melberg arrived. Flew them straight to the Enterprise City Medical Center."
"Oscomb is alive?"
"Yes, and doing fairly well, apparently," said Steve.
A cheer went up in the Bus, and hugs and high-fives were exchanged!
Bates collapsed into a Bus seat, took off his glasses, and wiped tears from his eyes. "But I don't understand!” he finally exclaimed. "When Mel COMed the hospital, he was told that Oscar had died!”
"A deception for consumption by the Ra and the press," explained Steve. "And it worked; at least Melberg didn't get to your people. I'm sorry that you were deceived also."
"But how did you get involved in this to begin with, and how did you know what to do?" asked Bates.
"Jigs COMed me before you arrived," explained Steve. "I've known Jigs for some time. He's an odd character, but he sometimes seems to have an uncanny sense of what's going to happen. Besides, he contributed lots of money to my last political campaign, with only one string attached.”
"What's that?" asked Bates.
"To help you people and this Bus. He described it all to me.”
"When did he do this?" asked Bates.
"Three years ago, during my last election campaign."
"Fudge Winkies!” muttered Bates. "Did he tell you anything else about the Ra, or us, or about riddles?”
"No, not really," began Steve, but the conversation was suddenly interrupted by exclamations from the back of the Bus and by Elizabeth, who came running wide eyed to the front of the Bus.
"Governor, Winnebago needs your help! It's Goyahkla!” She ran back, followed by Bates and Steve.
A strange sight greeted them when they arrived at the back of the Bus. Apparently, the Bus had left Apache airspace, for the Goyahkla curse was active once again. Winnebago, bound and gagged with rawhide strips, was floating five feet above the Bus isle. In the middle of the isle under Winnebago was a huge pile of dry sage brush, pine boughs, and antelope chips. Before this sat Goyahkla, chuckling to himself and rubbing two sticks together by means of what looked like a small bow loosely fitted with a leather strap that was wrapped around a stick. As he pulled on the 'bow' the leather strap spun the stick rapidly against a second stick. Already, smoke was rising from where the twirling stick was rubbing the dry pine bough.
"Stop that!” yelled Bates, as he reached out to untie Winnebago. But something invisible pushed him strongly back, and he ended up sitting on Norma's lap a few seats away, shaken but unhurt. Meanwhile, Janet and Elizabeth were talking to the ancient war chief in Spanish, with no apparent effect.
Suddenly, a commending voice riveted everyone. Chief Latanna walked towards Goyahkla, speaking authoritatively in Apache. Goyahkla rose and faced him, his eyes blazing. They exchanged heated words first, then sat down facing each other and talked for about ten minutes. Finally, they both laughed, got up, and each put a right hand on the other's shoulder. Goyahkla abruptly disappeared along with all he had brought. Winnebago fell whimpering and cursing to the floor with a heavy thud.
"What did you say to him?" asked Bates.
"Only truth," replied Steve. "That I am a Chiricahua chief. That I have Winnebago under my heel and will keep watch over him myself. That Indians have more power than ever, and that I am the leader of a state that includes millions of whites. That destruction of Earth would destroy all that the Apache and other Native Americans have fought the white man to achieve. And finally, I told him that we his children will need him soon, and that I will have Crooked Tongue call him when we are ready to talk with him again.”
"Who?" asked Elizabeth.
"Crooked Tongue. It's the name that was given to him by the Apache Tribal Council. He is also known more affectionately by some as Chief Winnebago."
"OK, so I've had a few minor misunderstandings with the Council," said Winnebago.
The conversation was interrupted by an order from Flood for everyone to sit down and fasten seat belts. They had arrived over the Uinta Mountains, and would be dropping in on General Mike Therman's ranch house.
Soon the Bus was plummeting into a wooded valley ringed on three sides by jagged peaks. They landed in the driveway next to an exquisite log house, where they were soon greeted by Therman. He was a robust black man in his mid-sixties, of average height and build. He was accompanied by a strikingly beautiful, tall, athletic looking black woman perhaps in her late twenties. Both she and the General were wearing western garb that protected them from the cold of a crisp December morning at over two kilometers altitude.
****