At five, I walked back from the guest cottage and found Georgia busily setting the table on the deck.
"Did you have a nap?" she asked.
"Not exactly, I sat in that big, soft deck chair and snoozed in the sun. It was really relaxing."
"After the trial is over, why don't you come back and spend a day or two relaxing? It is especially beautiful in September up here." She smiled a knowing smile and added, "And bring that pretty dark-skinned lady with the pale–blue eyes. I'd love to meet her."
"I'll do that."
"And, Steve is a legally ordained minister. When you are in need of that kind of service," she added without looking up from setting the table.
Steve came out onto the deck and dropped into a chair looking a little blurry–eyed. Georgia handed him a cup of tea she poured from a pot on the table.
"Excuse me," said Steve. "I am not quite back yet."
He sipped his tea for a minute and then added, "Earlier, I remembered some other scientific experiments on remote sensing you should know about. Some academics have done highly structured, formalized experiments in remote sensing where the data is posted on-line for all to access at every stage of the process. They are quite conclusive. However, skeptics don't believe the results, because they don't believe there can be valid result to begin with."
"Send me the references and I'll check them out," I replied. "I need to know all the background I can before the trial."
Georgia interrupted and said, "Dave said he would come back and spend some time after the trial, and maybe bring his friend with him."
Steve smiled and said, "Wonderful! We can have some time to go on some hikes and I can show him how beautiful this country is. In my business, spending a lot of time in meditation, I need to ground myself in a beautiful place like this to keep balanced. When I worked in the Palo Alto area, we lived in a little cabin up in the mountains between Palo Alto and the ocean. I couldn't have survived without my daily nature fix."
As we had dinner, Steve asked me about soaring, and I told him my flying stories.
After dinner, Steve asked, "Do you want to know, in advance how the trial will turn out?"
"I'm not sure," I said. "it might spoil the fun."
I thought to myself, Why am I disbelieving that he can do this?
"I'll mail you the 'win/no win' verdict in a sealed envelope in a few days. You can open it when you want–before or after the trial."
"How would you do that?"
"Do you see that stump by the driveway? The morning after the verdict, I will have Georgia stand on the stump and show me one of either of two things: a long handled pick ax that means the verdict was in your favor, or the rag cloth mop head that means you lost the case. Tomorrow, I will go into meditation and synchronize my mind with myself, standing there in the future, and see what kind of sensory information I get. If the sensory information I get from my future self is 'firm, sharp, metal, dangerous, wood handle, rusty etc.,' I will know you won. If the sensory information is 'soft, cloth, limp, cotton, wet, etc.,' I will know you didn't win. I am quite good at this kind of prediction."
"If you tell me I won, and I relax in preparing the case, I might lose. Isn't that altering the outcome?"
"No. It might alter how or why you win the case, but, you will win the case. That is the way it works," said Steve with a shrug.
I thought for a minute and then replied, "Send me the prediction and I will choose when to read it."
By this time, I was feeling like Steve and Georgia were old friends of mine. I didn't want to leave this intensely friendly place. Reluctantly, I said I must leave, and we all had warm hugs, which are not a lawyer's normal way of saying goodbye to potential witnesses. As I drove away, I felt an intense pull to return.
I decided to stop by Bob's Cafe because I wanted to make Agnes think I am a good guy, and have her communicate it out the far reaches of the gossip grapevine. I wanted to lose some of my "outsider, big city lawyer status."
I was careful to sit at the same rotating stool at the counter.
Agnes came over and said, "What’ll-y-have?" This time she had a slight smile of recognition.
"Just coffee," I said.
"Ya-got-it," she replied.
The cafe was empty except for a booth of three grey haired men, wearing their Stetson hats as they ate, exercising what I have heard are "cowboy manners." One was kind of looking me over.
"How do you like Rocky Butte, so far?" asked Agnes.
"I like it a lot, so far," I said. "I am from a small logging town like this in northern California. I like small towns."
"Did your friend find you?" asked Agnes. "He was in here yesterday asking where you might be. I sent him to the courthouse. Millie, the clerk over there said he wanted to see stuff about the court case you are here on."
"What did he look like?"
"He had a stocky build, like a farmhand, grey crew cut hair, gold wire-rimmed glasses, like boy scouts wear.
"Millie said you have a case against Sheriff Bogend for roughing up some guy. Bogend is a real bastard. I hope you fix him. He hassles people around here often. He is not much of a tipper, either."
"I don't really know who the guy is. He is probably an insurance investigator," I replied. "The judge isn't giving much time for me before he hears the case. I might rent a place up here for a combination of vacation and work. There are many vacation rental homes around here, aren't there?"
"Lots. Most of them are managed by agencies in Pine Mountain. There are several dude ranches around here. Are you going to bring your family up with you?"
"No, I am unattached. I'll be alone. I like to get a little solitude when I get away from LA. It brings me back to my roots."
"Maybe you can find some time for a little gold panning and meet some of the local girls. People are panning again because of the current price of gold," said Agnes, looking at me inquisitively to see whether my expression changed. "I can introduce you to a beautiful widow-woman friend of mine."
"I might try some prospecting for women and gold if I have time. I will mostly sit around, sometimes coming in here for your dinner special."
I looked at my watch and then said, "Good coffee, but I'd better get going,"
As I started to drive away, I saw that Agnes was on the cell phone. When I got to the edge of town, before I got out of cell phone coverage, I stopped the car, and sent a secure email to Dore. It said, "The man from Skeptemos was in Rocky Butte inquiring about me and visiting the courthouse. I met with the Sodastroms and Steve Manteo. Now returning to LA."
6
Back In LA
Monday morning, I was back at my office. As I walked into the lobby, I noticed that Carolyn looked a little disheveled. She didn't even greet me. I noticed a small overnight bag behind her desk. I guess 'I'm available for the weekend,' hadn't worked out as expected.
Zaza greeted me with, "If it isn't the mountain man! How is rabbit hunting in Rocky Butte? I have heard stories about those Sierra mining towns. Meet any dance-hall girls?"
"All business. There is gourmet dining at Bob's Cafe. Here, I brought you a gold pan."
"A pretty yellow one, I have been wanting one of these. Irving needs a new hobby. I have been trying to get him away from our TV set."
"How was your weekend?"
"Irving watched TV. Period.
"You just had a call from someone named Dan at CrystalSky ." She handed me the slip of paper with his phone number on it.
"He is one of the tow pilots. I hope nothing has happened to my sailplane."
I called Dan. He explained, "Dave, I don't know what this means, but, you remember that funny guy with the grey crew cut and gold rimmed glasses I saw checking out your sailplane trailer?"
"Yes, the one you told me about the day I flew the wave."
Dan continued, "The other day I flew up to the soaring operation on Ogden to deliver a tow plane that had been down here for overhaul. While I was there, I saw Charlie Sears from Sa
nta Fe assembling his sailplane. You remember him from the regional contest we had here at CrystalSky last year?"
I replied, "Yes, I talked to Charlie quite a bit during the contest. How is he doing?"
"He was spending a week flying at Ogden. He was taking his bird out of the trailer and putting it together. The funny guy with the grey crew–cut was helping him. I went over and talked to Charlie a while and got a good look at the guy. He is really uptight, like a marine on guard duty. I couldn't figure out why he was there. He positively didn't look like a pilot. You might like to give Charlie a call and find out what the story on the guy is."
"I will," I said, "I have Charlie's cell number. Thanks. Let me know if you see the stranger again."
I called Charlie and told him that Dan had seen him in Ogden. We chatted about flying and Ogden weather and soaring conditions. I asked him about the man Dan saw helping him assemble the sailplane.
Charlie replied, "I had never seen the man before in my life. He walked up and was just standing around so I asked him whether he would like to help me put the wings on. He was very interested in how everything went together, as though he was a mechanical engineer, but didn't seem to know anything about flying, and was not very interesting to talk to. After we got finished he left and drove off in his white van."
"Did you find out any thing about him, where he was from, or what he was doing there?"
"No, he was not a very personable guy. Why the interest?"
"Dan saw him hanging around my glider trailer at CrysalAire He thought he looked suspicious."
Charlie continued, "I think 'suspicious' is a good description of him. Maybe 'creepy' is better."
I thanked Charlie and told him about my wave flight before I said goodbye.
I emailed a report of the incident to EB Services.
Zaza buzzed me and said, "Bracken wants an update on the court case and is here this morning. Shall I see whether he is free?"
"Yes."
After a short call Zaza said, "OK to go up there now."
As I went in, Phil motioned me to sit at a chair in front of his desk and said, "How is Sodastrom shaping up?"
"We have a trial date in a month. The judge warned me against any pre-trial publicity. He doesn't want the tourist town of Rocky Butte to be publicized as a place where it is unsafe for families. The liability insurance company’s lawyer, who will be defending the county, didn’t impress me.
"I think there is a good scientific case for remote sensing and a trained psychic being able locate people. I'll put the science argument first when the jury is fresh, so they can absorb it as we go along. Colson has commissioned a video that explains the theory in a way a lay jury can understand. Their consultant, Dr. Montgomery is also an excellent witness.
"The Sodastroms will make good witnesses. They look very tragic. I will put them up late in the trial."
"I visited with the psychic, Steve Manteo, and he will also make an excellent witness. I will arrange for him to make some sort of demonstration."
"I will present this differently from a logical patent case. Instead of a 'you must logically find....' type of case, I'll appeal to the jurors' feelings. As part of that, I will rent a place up there and try to develop the idea that I am kind of a local. Maybe I'll even go to some local softball games."
Phil picked up a piece of paper and handed it to me. He showed some concern in his eyes.
"Dore sent me this email that shouldn't go out of this office, about her security concerns. Apparently, some man has been stalking you and might try to intimidate you and some of your witnesses. Her security consultants have found that the person is on the FBI's radar. The suspect is Special Forces trained, with experience in explosives. He is linked to bombings in other states, and is considered very dangerous. He seems to be associated with a group that makes it their duty to prevent acceptance of what they consider unscientific theories, which will lead the world back into superstition and fear.
"Dore gave me the link to their website. Here, I will put it on the flat screen TV."
The website opened with a montage of heroic medieval figures, knights wearing white tunics with red crosses emblazoned on the front, carrying shields similarly decorated, barbaric figures marching with firebrands, riding in fierce groups. The montage ended with a heraldic crest with the same hieroglyph we had seen drawn on Candice's windshield and into the dirt near my sailplane trailer. The montage looked as though it had been lifted from a Discovery Channel program, or similar special on the Knights Templar.
The voiceover described how the group, Skeptemos, was carrying on the ancient tradition of fighting the forces of evil, this time the fake-scientific people, agents of evil, who were destroying pure science with the impure theories that promoted superstition and fear. Destroying pure science would plunge us back into the chaos of the Dark Ages. The montage showed violent scenes, probably from TV coverage of unrest in the Middle East. It included 'villainous' clips of the bearded faces of turbaned Iranian and Arab leaders.
"That is kind of scary," I said.
Phil responded, "The good news is the so-called movement consists of only a few nuts, true–believer types. Someone is adept at making a website. We are not dealing with an al–Qaeda here. Skeptemos is probably only a few loners, at least one with explosive training, probably addicted to medieval video games.
"Colson has retained a high-end security firm to develop a plan to protect you and your witnesses, the kind of firm that might be hired to protect a visiting head of state.
"Vince Colson told me he had some Pentagon jobs that brushed against the classified world. He probably has some friends who advise him about spooky matters. He has weighty concerns about industrial espionage. We can be confident his security consultants will know their job.
Phil looked concerned as he said, "Are you OK with this kind of scenario?"
"As you know, our high-tech patent work has made us the target of some professional industrial espionage organizations, including some from foreign countries. If the security firm can keep the bombers away I can live with it."
Phil seemed relieved as he said, "Good, I'll tell Dore you are comfortable with the situation."