They were up early to help in the mine, the Plat piling up, the
vein still growing. They absolutely had to be uncovering the
Treasure of the Sangre de Christos, they were saying. And they
were all appropriately reverent. Awestruck. Dum and founded.
They discussed getting a shipment out soon. Maybe at $50 million.
And worked in there that whole day.
        Dinner was as succulent as King Crab on a bed of heavily
buttered French-cut green beans, sweet potatoes and wild rice
(which is what they had) as they ate out on the veranda. Storms
were all around, though not up on their mountain. But, later, the
clouds came over, as Jess and Kit had asked for from the spirits. It
was the night.
        The two of them went over to the cabin and checked over the
Monument message on Puter one more time in the bedroom and
packed the holograph set.
        'Fuck, this is it,' Kit's "mojo" was telling his brain.
        "Fuck, this is really it, Hotey," Jess said.
        "Yip," he answered, trying to stay as calm as he could. They
went over Pute's oversight for the night's mission. It had been
moved up a night because of the weather, but that wasn't a problem.
The problem was still going to be the tire marks left on the mesa
which, if left, would narrow the search to a light single-engine plane.
Maybe even a Mooney. There are plenty of those in the US, of
course, but one in particular was in the agents' heads. So Kit
thought up attaching some kind of "broom" for the takeoff and
thought he might have it thunked out. They went over everything
one more time with Pute with the "broom" added, and it was all a
"GO". Full moon would be on the 10th, so it would be bright out
there, but real time and forecast for the whole route and the Valley
was for broken to overcast sky. The spirits were with them, it sure
did seem.
        They figured on taking off around midnight, estimating an
hour and a half each way, to be conservative. They had some time
to nap, but uncharacteristically had sex instead, heightened by their
excitement over the upcoming flight. Around eleven thirty they got
the tarps off Jessy Pop, Flee and Juli helped bring out the
equipment in its boxes and load it in, then our two took some speed.
        Jul and Ria came out. Kit told them their flight plans and they
wished Kit and Jess the most buena of suerte and they exchanged
hugs and kisses. Jul asked if they wanted him to set out the lantern,
but Kit told him that Flee and Juli had volunteered. Julian said he
would make sure, with a little chuckle.
        Then Kit got some rope and tied a tarp onto two long logs he
had gotten from the pile by the shed, and put all that in baggage,
which would even help balance out the extra weight in front. He
took off all the tape covering the Mooney's orifices, wiped off the
glue that was left, drained the sumps, then they opened the barn
doors and rolled her out.
        "She sure looks awful rad, bucko," Jess commented, "...like
a phantom, or something."
        "Let's just hope she flies all right, precious," Kit came back.
        "Oh...looks like she will..." Jess answered, seriously
contemplating the aerodynamics and balance.
        "Yep...does," he smiled back at her seriousness. Then they
hugged everyone, all of them out there then. And the ones who
hadn't seen the plane commented on its it-ness, and they all
wished their pards their best on whatever it was they were going
to do as the lightning flashed around the sky, accentuating their
words and emotions. They would only be gone several hours. But
this was a real mission, they all sensed. Flee knew the details, the
only other who did, but the rest of them knew something big was
up and just surmised it was about that new government, without
saying so.
        Kit asked Jessy privately one more time not to go, but she
just gave him one adamant glare right back. So they climbed in,
started up the horses, put on their gogs, warmed her up, waved
to everyone, most with tears in their eyes out of pride, fear,
excitement and the rest, and took off quietly, using more runway
than normal, but still having a little to spare, Flece watching with
the third set of goggles.
        Our two flew the deck to Monument and touched down on
the edge of that butte about a mile from the stage and swished
and shwayed around the rocks and sagebrush in the dirt and sand
as the braked tires dug in, Kit applying the brakes, then releasing,
then reapplying so, hopefully, one point on either main tire
wouldn't be ripped open.
        It was like a carrier landing, only without the arresting cable.
Some of their landings out in the Alaska bush had served as good
practice, plus Kit's times as a spray pilot and his time instructing
in the Philippines. But as he and Jess closed in on the other edge
of that mesa, he says he explicitly remembered his night landing
at Goat Island in South Carolina in his twin-engined Apache with
one contact lens in, coming in off the reservoir with only so much
grass strip before the big puddle of rain, the parents-in-laws-to-be
in that Piper along with his betrothed.
        They slowed enough to turn just as they reached the edge,
about 500 feet above the Valley floor. The wing on Jessy's side
went out past the edge and Kit wondered if he would have to
take them off going down the side of the butte, but her wheel
stayed on solid ground and he completed the skidding turn.
        Jess was genuinely impressed and relieved. "Nice landing,
skipper! Will we be able to get back off this, uh...rock?"
        "No...but we'll just dive down when we go off the edge."
He took a deep breath in his own relief, and she just nodded,
then shook her head, smiling. If her wheel had gone off the edge
they might have had too much damage to get off the butte, and
it could have been all over, Kit was going through. He had
thought that butte big enough not to pose the situation. But,
anyway, they had made it! Juli Pop rolled to a stop headed back
the opposite direction and they shut her down, Kit's knees still
shaking a little.
        There was a broken cloud ceiling, the moonlight tracing the
cloud gaps all throughout the Valley. One pretty magical sight, all
right. They saw all the lights around the stage that mile away, but
were pretty sure that they had not been seen nor heard as they
got out. The landing had been hard on the gear, but when they
inspected everything it was all still there and looking OK.
        "Mooneys are tough," he told her. But they had brought
three spare tires and tools for a change, all brought back from
Alaska, just in case.
        "I believe that," she concurred as she ran a hand across the
tail's leading edge, feeling the dents from the stones and such that
the tires had flung up. There were more dents on the wings'
undersides, and especially on the flaps behind the tires, but
nothing troubling. "Too bad she's all dinged up, though," Jess
added.
        "Yep...she'll have to go to Alaska, I guess." He put on his
gloves and got the holograph boxes out of their boxes. They had
painted them a camouflage red and brown to match the dirt they
would be on. He walked them out from the plane, placing them
200 feet or so apart, making sure that the speaker sides were
facing the stage area and the projector sides facing each other.
And he double checked. And triple checked. And so did Jess
with him.
        "Well...we're done," he said to her.
        "Yeah, right, Cody," she answered him, went to Juliet and
pulled the Navajo blanket out of the back seat, Kit wondering
when she had put it in.
        It was a warm night. The clouds were keeping the heat in.
She opened the blanket up on the ground near their ship and sat
Kit down on it, then herself in front of him, and told him, "I
thought we could afford to enjoy this a few minutes."
        "Well, maybe a few, huh..." he answered. They looked out
over the Valley, watching the beams of moonlight dance all
around, and it was like some dream...or an acid trip, they mused
...like Heaven, they were eventually concurring.
        They probably got naked, the story goes. But they say they
didn't, in case they had to go fast. Yeah, right. They stayed
almost an 'our. The moonlight hit them once - they were in
orgasm - but clouds were directly over them. Pute and Cy had
prefigured the odds on a space camera getting a picture of them
and consensus was that they would be OK. But they realized
they were pushing it. They were almost asking for it.
        They were waiting to see Lion and Swan, and talking about
them. If their buds wouldn't show in Monument Valley, on the
butte, after that landing, well, where would they be able to count
on them, they were kidding. They really did want to see them
again, though, and maybe gain more knowledge. Nothing wrong
with that.
        Well, dang if their friends and mentors didn't show up - on
Heart - about ten yards away! Their hearts raced again and they
felt all the adrenalin again, even though they were almost getting
used to it, especially since graduation.
        The Chief waved his arm in a sweeping motion to, like,
"show" them Monument Valley and said, "nice piece of real
estate, huh? One of the few places we got to keep."
        Jessy and Kit were just nodding, in the awe, and trying to
think of sensible questions.
        Swan then added, "the concert's going to be big magic,"
smiling at the guys. "Your boxes, too."
        "Uh..." Jess ventured, "is there more we can do?" feeling a
little woozy that she was talking with spirits. There.
        "You'll know," Lion answered her.
        "O..." Jess remembered, "we wanted to thank you for...
everything..."
        The spirits both smiled and nodded, then moved their hands
out from their hearts, and Kit and Jess returned the signal, then
Heart raised up slowly on his hind legs and those three slowly
disappeared.
        After some pregnant moments, Jess whispered, "we were
talking with them, Quixote..." as the chills ran up and down their
spines.
        "I know, majesty," he murmured back, "...I don't believe it
...but I know...."
        "I know what you mean, beany..." she answered.
        Well, the clouds were starting to scatter out West. It was
time to git. They checked P, on the seat inside Julie, and he was
still forecasting cloud cover all the way back home but angry they
had chanced it. Kit got his gloves back on and got the "sweeper"
out of baggage and spread the heavy logs and tarp out under the
tail, the ropes from the log ends going to the cockpit door. Then
he rolled rocks up in the tarp and tied that up real tight. They
walked the length of their landing tracks and cleared the rocks and
brush they could, with gloves on, in case even the rocks would be
fingerprinted, then swept the tracks made in the turn at the edge
behind the plane with sagebrush, and swept all their footprints.
        They hugged tight, Kit lifting her off the gound and twirling
her around, took one more look at the stage and all around at the
stupefying Valley and swept their tracks behind them to Jule,
climbed aboard and started her up, warming her up as they went
through the checks.
        Kit reined in the "sweeper" ropes through the open door, then
Jess added about one third power, to keep the noise way down plus
give Kit a chance to hang onto the ropes, and they started their roll
across the butte, following their tracks. She pushed them down into
a dive when the wheels went off the cliff and he let go of the ropes,
his muscles at exhaustion, and the sweeper flew off the butte's edge.
He closed the door, she pulled up the gear and flaps, then they
leveled out just above the Valley floor and headed home on the
deck.
        They called Flece about 10 minutes out and made a good
landing back at the ranch, though the nose was even heavier
without the logs in back or the fuel in the tanks. They rolled her
into the barn and, in minutes more, were undressing in the
bedroom, telling how great and "spiritfull" it all had gone.

Next Page