The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(28)
What drove them was growing uneasiness with the work that was being done on cold fusion around the world. But they had to admit that they had discovered nothing that might indicate cold fusion technology presented any real threat to the planet. Quite the opposite.
Heather had downloaded and read every available publication on the alien cold fusion technology. No matter how many times she reworked the equations, the technology still looked good. And the peer reviews by physicists and mathematicians around the world had been very positive.
So why was she so scared?
Outside, the wind howled so hard it shook the glass in her bedroom window. Fine pellets of sleet tapped the glass like cold, drumming fingers. Heather wrapped her thick robe more tightly around her shoulders, stretched, and then rose from the chair to peer out.
The storm was getting worse. The first of the high-country blizzards for the year was getting ready to descend upon northern New Mexico. According to the local weather man, they could expect between twelve and eighteen inches by morning, which would close all the roads in and out of town. That meant no school.
Heather smiled as she watched the sleet give way to large, thick flakes, now falling so heavily she could barely see the streetlight through the swirling whiteness. School might be closed tomorrow, but she would bet her left arm the ski area would be open.
With a sigh of regret, she moved back to her desk. She would not be skiing tomorrow or anytime soon. There was just too much to do.
A loud tap on her window caused her to look up. After several seconds, she shook her head and returned her attention to her studies. Another tap, this one much louder than the first, brought her to her feet.
Frozen in place, her pulse pounding in her ears, Heather stared at the dark window. Snow that had caked the lower-left corner of the pane had been partially scraped away. A white piece of paper fluttered wildly in the cleared space, secured by a thick wad of chewing gum.
Fascinated, Heather walked back to the window and opened it just enough to retrieve the scrap of paper. Her eyes focused on the typeset words that filled the partial page.
As when the melting fire burneth, the fire causeth the waters to boil, to make thy name known to thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at thy presence!
Isaiah 64:2
As though she were in a dream, Heather’s gaze was drawn to the ground ten feet below her window. There in the swirling snow at the base of the streetlight, a solitary figure stood, ice caking his bearded, skeletal face, his eyes lost in dark sockets.
And as the sound of her scream split the stillness of the house, the figure below grinned up at her.
Chapter 19
By the time the police arrived, the man was long gone. Heather’s parents had neither seen nor heard anything out of the ordinary. If it had not been for the note and the chewing gum, Heather doubted the two officers would have believed her account of what had occurred.
After taking statements, the officers took the gum and put it in a plastic bag. One of them examined the note.
“Looks like our man tore this out of a cheap Bible. The type you find in drawers at two-star hotels.”
Either the cop had some highly developed deductive reasoning or he had way more personal experience than Heather cared to think about. As she was about to settle firmly on the latter conclusion, the officer paused in his study.
“Isaiah 64:2. Six letters, the number six, then two numbers that add to six. Mark of the beast, isn’t it?”
Heather’s father raised an eyebrow. “Superstitious nonsense.”
“Oh, I agree with you, Mr. McFarland. I don’t put a bit of stock in it. The question is, though, what about our man out there? Does he? Anyway, we’ll let the boys back at the lab take a look at it.”
With a nod, the officers departed.
“Their ‘lab’ is going to ‘look at it,’” her father huffed. “Unless I miss my guess, that stuff is going into a shoe box on a shelf.”
“It’s all right, Dad,” said Heather. “I shouldn't have overreacted in the first place. I can’t believe I screamed.”
Her mother shook her head. “Baloney. Any time a man climbs up to a young lady's second-floor window and starts sticking threatening-sounding notes to it with chewing gum, it calls for a bit of overreaction.”
Her father’s eyes tightened. “If he shows up again, he’s likely to come down with a case of forty-five-caliber lead poisoning.”
“Dad, please. I’m sure he’s just some unhappy homeless person who needs help.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I hope he finds it before he threatens my family again.” With that, Heather’s father turned and left the room.
Heather turned to her mother. “Dad wouldn’t really shoot him, would he?”
“Don’t get paranoid, now, but pay attention, won’t you? At least until this guy is caught.”
That didn’t answer her question, but Heather nodded anyway. “I will, Mom. Don’t worry.”
Sleep seemed an unlikely possibility as Heather crawled back into her bed and pulled the down comforter up under her chin. But before she knew it, she found herself rising to greet the new day. Once again she had beaten the sun.
She glanced over at the pile of books that awaited her and then at the snow piled on the outside of her windowsill. Something about snow, especially when it was falling heavily and piling high enough to call off school, made Heather feel like goofing off. All that study, and she still hadn’t figured out a reference in the ship's imagery that would give them a key to understanding the tiny component they were studying.