Ghost Signals of Colorado Springs

Prologue

Large shards of glass tumbled from the few structures still standing after the initial quake. Once again, people panicked running through the courtyards. Clouds of ash covered the streets and buildings from the nearby volcano that had come to life. The rulers of the city tried to calm the inhabitants. The time was growing short, and dealing with the locals was not going well.

Subsidence from the cavernous underground collapsing caused more instability in the city. The underground was the home of the rulers who were different from the indigenous lifeforms. The vast library was still standing even after a large rock from the volcano crashed through the main door.

The loss of the citizens of the city would be a travesty. The failure of the library would be immoral even by their standards. As the people fled the city, some of their people intermixed with the locals escaping with them. Many of the citizens got on boats and left the town for parts unknown. The King and his family stayed behind vowing to remain in order to please the gods. The rulers finally enacted some of their magic to create a significant barrier between the city and the ash clouds.

While the ground still shook, no more people were permitted to leave the city, even the birds were trapped.

The King could only stand there and watch as his great city slid beneath the waves. The rulers, to keep the city safe from the outside world and from sea life, that was large enough to cause them harm, put a protective grid in place.

Sos

More flashes of light arced across the skies of Colorado, but there were no storms in the area. The brown outs and strange lightening called attention to the city, making their avant-garde appearance on this planet, very suspicious. Much like two flat tires and only one spare the Xylars were in trouble.

Having chased a race of beings across the void of space, to be marooned on a pre-space travel planet, was devastating. Trying not to interfere with the Human’s natural order of evolution, they nudged those with higher intellect, to assist them without them knowing what they were truly doing.

What they were unaware of, however, is those with higher than average intellects were not fully human.

Seeding the individuals with ideas, the Xylars looked for a few with the essential brainpower to assist them. Finding one, they gave him ideas that he thought were his. To herald their efforts, they continued planting plans in the head of one human at a time to see which would bear fruit. One man of exceptional brilliance moved from his native country to the USA so they could get him near other brilliant men, of his era.

Pushing the two men, giving them nudges of inspiration, the Xylars did not count on their ego to foil their efforts. Picking one of the two, they focused their efforts on one man who was more brilliant than the rest. He was also close to mentally unstable.

The Xylars invested many years in grooming them while waiting to see if their work would bear fruit. A human was needed to assist them in their efforts to get back home. Once they failed to locate the rogue race of Bindain, their mission was clear. Get back home and alert their superiors. If they merely just disappeared, their superiors might get the wrong idea about the earthlings, thinking them a hostile race.

The Xylars appearance was such that they could not fit into the human’s world without being noticed. Giving a human one idea after another in the debt of night, was their way of helping him to help them.

Their reserve power cells failed when they attempted to time travel. Having investigated the new emission from this planet, they found the inhabitants to be primitive and of no real value to the collective. If the Bindane were here, they were covert about their presence. All they could do now was to use their telepathic abilities to attempt to get the power transference device that they needed built for them, completed.

Utilizing their time travel technology and what power they could muster, they ensconced their ship under the ground in the middle of a vacant field in the hills of Colorado. Their next task was to convince the young human inventor that he needed to move here, to perfect his power transference device.

Working days on end, they pumped information into the earthling’s head while watching him try in vain to make work that which he did not understand. They also witnessed the destruction of the man’s mind. Once a brilliant man by Human standards, they observed him slowly lose his mental faculties.

Tinkering with what could be a powerful weapon, the human watched as bolts of lightning danced within the confines of his laboratory. Meanwhile, the town of Colorado Springs, miles away witnessed their lights dim in intensity, knowing that the maniac on the hill was back at it.

Sitting around his invention as large arcs of electricity darted around him, the Xylars knew that what they hoped to have the humans create would now have to occur later. With no real understanding of the device that the Xylars tried to get him to build, the danger was now imminent as his machine was currently well past critical. The human toyed with the beginnings of a tool that could well destroy the planet.

A fire erupted in the wooden structure. The fire caused the Xylar’s to retreat in their underground sanctuary. The somewhat senile inventor escaped the building to watch the tower light the night sky, as flames burned the area like a towering beacon. The ball at the top of the enormous tower came crashing down as fire danced on the structure, sending plumes of smoke into the dark sky.

By the time the fire brigade arrived, there was little to do but mind that the embers did not set fire to the surrounding woods.

The Xylar’s camouflaged the entrance to their ship, and then, abandoned it. Blending in with the human’s as best they could, they left a beacon on the craft, which would take light hundreds of years to get to their home world. Religious sects that covered themselves in brown cloth accepted them, not asking questions. Since the Xylars used telepathy to speak, it was no matter. Living their days with them, the community of the sect became enriched in ways that they could not even fathom.

The locals were happy to see the structure gone, and the strange man that liked pigeons leave their home as he took a train back to New York. They were unaware that under the hills of the densely mineral-laden mountains was a ship of immense power that was actively calling home. Coupling the ship's antenna with the actual minerals in the mountainside, the entire mountain turned into a giant antenna perfectly hidden and suited for transmitting their version of an SOS.

Early radio signals were emanating from DC. Telsa had discovered a way to transmit data. Others benefited from his inventions and soon radio was born. A young radio enthusiast soon discovered the beacon. His crystal set did not pick up the earliest radio signals from DC as some local interference was wiping it out. Reporting the interference through his father, government officials were called out to investigate.

The local government had discovered the signal but could not locate its source. Determined to kill the RF emission, as it must be from some nefarious government plant, the technology to triangulate such emissions did not exist. They thought that it did but, when the pointer told them it came from under their feet, they knew that it was not working.

Since they could not stop the signal, they built a transmitter that would transmit a much more robust signal on that same frequency. Playing radio shows at first, they continued their search for the elusive transmitter.

Years went by without locating it. They narrowed it down to the state of Colorado. After much frustration, they placed their radio station in the same state as the source of the signal. Much stronger than the original emission, there was no chance that the initial weaker signal would be heard by anyone unless the station that is transmitting time and tone signature, with occasional bulletins, was terminated at the source.

Years went by as the signal slowly faded and was soon forgotten by almost everyone that cared. Whatever its source was, the signal had all but died. The government wrote it off as some unscrupulous actor.

Genius 2.0

H arold, tell me again why you moved us from San Francisco to Colorado Springs? Sue asked, now seeming somewhat exasperated.

My job is here. Yes, I could have taken a different job, but this one pays, and it paid to move us.

Ok, I get that but why did we buy this old house instead of building a new one?

This house is supposed to be haunted; I thought maybe that might inspire your writing.

The Ghost of Colorado Springs A book by Sue I am married to a crazy person, Thompson. She said while smiling at him.

Say what you want but, after we get this house fixed up, I think you will be happy here. If you talk to some of the locals, they tell some strange stories about the place.

I am just messing with you. I may change my mind when the first snowfall gets here.

Are you really going to try skiing?

We are going to try skiing so we can do something together and be outside instead of hibernating in front of the fireplace as you imagined that we might.

Why do you think my office has its own fireplace? Harold asked.

Please tell me that you are not going to abandon me for your hobbies.

No more than I usually do, besides, I think we have lots to see and do here.

There are not that many months of warm weather, are you sure this is the place to live?

Looking back at Sue in her sundress, he thought back on how she looked when they first met. The first time was on the wharf in San Francisco, and then again at Ghirardelli Square. They were both students, but they had never spoken until Harold ordered wine. The person behind the bar chided him when he asked for white zinfandel. The snobby bartender scowled at him, telling him that was not wine.

At this, Sue got up from her friends and stood beside Harold while taking the waiter to task. Harold had never had anyone come to his aid for anything. When she did, Harold was humbled.

As she chided the snob, her beauty stunned Harold. Her dark hair cascaded down around her shoulders and framed in her breasts in a very complimentary way. The bright colors of the fabric of her sundress made him wonder if she was a leftover want-to-be hippie. No matter, she was cute, and she had a pleasant demeanor.

Joining her back at her table with her friends, also from the same school, the two were there in body only. Harold and Sue bonded in some non-verbal way. He was a catch by any standard. He was somewhere between athletic and an intellectual. Sue was not interested in brawn and no brains.

Smiling at her and the memory of her, Harold laughed and went about packing boxes down to the basement, taking care to put the things that were going to stay in the basement toward the back of the room.

We will do more things together. I have an idea for a hobby that we both might be interested in. He said over his shoulder as his words echoed off the walls of the basement and up the stairwell.

Sue wondered what he had in mind but was glad that he was at least thinking of her and just not his hobbies and work.

The sizable three-story house did have a history. There was a rumor that one of its owners in the early 1900s went missing one winter night, and was never found. The story was that he heard voices in his head after moving there. Others had reportedly witnessed the strange unexplainable noises and concluded that they were a ghost.

Harold went about moving things from their California home, going through his old collections of stamps and coins that he had from his childhood. Finishing with his list of things to complete from his wife, he set about putting his office together. A smaller bedroom converted to be an office; he set about getting things installed, including his shortwave radio set.

Sue could not understand his fascination with listening to static, but Harold always enjoyed listening to the radio when he was not actively engaged in something else. Tinkering with his electronics or radio hobby was a great time to listen to the shortwave broadcast, or even talk on the radio with some of his friends from around the country or even other countries that he had met over the years. The large antennas were an eyesore to Sue, but she married him knowing that Harold was the cerebral type, so she was happy not to be a football widow as well abandoned for one to his hobbies.

The weeks seemed to fly by as they re-did one bathroom and then the kitchen. Buying a haunted house that needed work had its advantages as they got it for much less, than a comparable home would have cost them. Changing the floors out, reworking the older heat, and cooling systems, kept the two busy with contractors.

One old contractor that had been in the area since he was a child was not thrilled to be going back to this house. The house sat on several acres in the hills. Harold was interested in it for those reasons. Bill was aware of the legends, and he had often felt as if there might be something to them. His parents were from Scotland and Bill never wholly lost the accent.

Stories from his childhood told by his parents of the Pixies and magic and witches from Scotland played in his mind, as he would hear a strange noise or get a feeling that he were being watched, while pulling wire for the new system through some dark crawlspace. Mouse residue eased his mind when he spotted it, happy to find a logical reason for the noises and feelings.

Lassie, you will want to call an exterminator, you got some rodents keeping you company in your walls, Bill said.

We have heard them from time to time, I have some traps out, but I think I am going to get a cat.

Aye, they are good for keeping your lap warm during the winter months, and keeping the creatures at bay.

I still have to convince my husband.

Does your man not like cats?

We have never spoken of pets.

The misses cat just had we little ones, come on over in a few weeks and take your pick.

Thanks, Bill; write your address on your card for me. I will do that.

Bill was happy to have found a home for at least one of them. He hoped that he could persuade Sue to take two, as she had enough mice to feed more than on cat.

The first snow fell mid-October. Sue had been working on her book as Harold was still putting the final changes on his radio set up, between writing software for a man in California and spending time with his wife...

Somewhere in shipping, something must have damaged the radio as part of the band around five megahertz sounded off. Even with the antenna disconnected, there was an intense signal, and it was not the government-installed transmitter for atomic time.

This process had slowed him down regarding getting on the air. Harold decided to take the radio down to the basement, as the cement from the walls keeping the dirt out would shield the receiver from external signals.

Much to his chagrin, the signal was still there. That meant that something internal to the radio was generating the birdie, or a filter was out.

It was now either fix his faithful old Collins radio or use this as an excuse to retire it and purchase something much newer. Harold, like most radio enthusiast, decided to opt for something more modern.

Weeks later, the delivery truck finally came. Harold was shocked to find that after the new radio was installed, there was still a signal on Five Megahertz that was very strong and blanking out a good part of the band.

Voices

Giant flashes of light danced around the room as Harold waited for the crash of thunder. A popping sound instead of the roar of thunder was all that he heard as the arcs terminated with another taking its place.

Harold recognized the apparatus causing the commotion. A device from the late 1800s was now playing out in his head. Harold could see the face of a man who was absorbed in what he was doing. Another face he saw, he thought he recognized. The face he had seen before somewhere.

Mark Twain? He thought. The bushy eyebrows, unkempt hair, and huge mustache were unmistakable. What was he doing here, and why did he think about him? The dream seemed to play out forever, much like a movie with a dull plot; there was no end.

If this is Mark Twain and this other person is showing him things light up within a perimeter of this device, that would have to be Nicola Tesla, he reasoned.

The device he now recognized as Tesla’s invention. This machine was to produce electricity and transmit it wirelessly. How did this thing work? Harold asked himself in his dream-like state.

Harold, wake up, you are having a nightmare!

Waking up, looking at his wife smiling down at him he smiled.

I was?

Yes, and it must have been a doozy.

Why do you say that?

Well let me ask you this, who is Nikola?

Harold thought for a moment. Tesla, he exclaimed as if he had a revelation or epiphany.

The carmaker?

No, they just usurped his name. Kind of like a band did named Tesla. He was an immigrant back in the days of Edison who came here and pioneered AC electricity. He actually had a laboratory not far from here, back in the late 1800s.

OK that leads me to the next question why are you dreaming about someone from the 1800s?

I drove by a historical marker, and it must have stuck in my mind. Anyway, it was the early 1900’s. Sorry for waking you.

It could have been worse; you could have screamed out my sister's name.

Harold did not even acknowledge her comment. The sister she was talking about was oversexed and felt like all men should bow to her. He noticed her and about never got a second date with Sue. There were still feelings of animus between Sue and Rebecca.

Sleep returned, allowing him to slumber unabated until the alarm woke them both signaling the beginning of another week.

The scheduled conference call with a company in California was about to take place. Many were involved in a project to create software for drones. Encryption was a crucial element, in that they did not want an enemy force to be able to take control of their drones. Developing a fallback plan, if jamming the control frequency was sensed, was another part of the project.

The constant murmur of the group on the conference call from people spanning the globe had Harold wishing that he were anywhere but on that phone. The part of the project they were discussing did not affect his part of the coding. Doodling on his legal tablet while they talked, Harold’s mind was blank as his pencil sketched a device. Only partially listening to the conversation, his pen seemed to have a mind of its own, as an instrument took shape on his tablet.

Focusing on what was now happening in front of his eyes, he did not even hear the call end, as his pencil continued to draw. It was his hand controlling it, but clearly, the information was not coming from his head.

A click and buzzing sound broke his concentration from his hand as he looked over at the phone, pushing the disconnect button.

Looking back at his legal tablet, Harold was amazed at the detail of the drawing. In the lower part of the page was writing. HAROLD, BUILD THIS!

A cold shudder went through him as he read what he most certainly wrote. What the hell? He thought.

Not wanting to alarm his wife Harold put the tablet in his drawer. Trying to remember if there was anything he had to do, he decided to call his friend in California and re-cap the call admitting that he was distracted.

Focusing on his job, the drawing on the tablet soon became forgotten under the other papers in that same drawer.

Sue came into his office with a box from something he had ordered. Getting his attention, she set the long rectangular carton in the corner of his room.

What is this? She asked.

That will one day be a metal detector. I thought that you and I could go explore some of our lands, maybe find gold? He quipped.

More like pop tops or old beer cans; did you say that it will someday be a metal detector?

He laughed. Yes, right now it is a box of parts, I bought a kit. You know how I enjoy building things. You are probably right in that we will find pop tops but building the kit will give me some satisfaction.

Honey, if you get satisfaction out of building things I could show you how to build a casserole or to create a cake from scratch!

I love you, now leave. I have work to do.

Sue flashed her tongue at him and turned to leave. Sue made sure he watched her exit as she walked away with exaggerating hip movements she flipped the back of her dress up, exposing some rather skimpy panties from Victoria Secret. They had never had course words with one another. Harold was confident that she was the one responsible for that. Her kind demeanor and flirtatious behavior were a constant, which he appreciated.

The image of her shapely bottom along with the scents from the kitchen filled the house catching his attention. The words played through his head that she had mentioned. Saving his work, the computer screen went dark as he left his office. Finding his bride in the kitchen, she was surprised to see him.

It won’t be ready for at least an hour. She said.

I was certain that I had an invite from you to show me how to build something. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck with his lips.

She smiled at him while embracing him. The last time I turned you lose in the kitchen; the smoke detector got a workout. I think you had best keep building your kinds of things and leave me deal with food. I do like your company, however.

I was beginning to think you changed your mind about me in the kitchen.

If you could grasp that the smoke detector is not the oven timer, I think we might make progress. No, you stick to the microwave, and heating things, and leave the culinary talents in this family to yours truly.

You don’t mind the stereotype?

Harold, women, and men are different, and some of us enjoy cooking. When I am creating things in the kitchen, I know what it is going to taste like as I grab this spice or ingredient. That takes time to develop that talent.

Time or Thyme?

Sue laughed at him. Why don’t you take your box of parts to your cave, and make sure that they are all there. I will holler when it is about done. Besides, I am looking forward to finding pop-tops with you now.

Harold gave her a kiss while patting her bottom. She now knew he had noticed her new clothing. He then left to get his box and take it to his shop. Colorado was famous for gold, and even still today, somebody will find a gold nugget from years gone by. That was not the reason for the purchase, but hunting for metal trinkets with his bride close by, was in the back of his mind.

The kit was not complicated. Before he retired for the evening, the detector was ready for an initial test. With luck, the weather would hold, and tomorrow they could go for some fresh air.

What Lurks Below

Even after some midnight exercise, Harold had another wrestles night and was ready for some fresh air. Armed with a small shovel and hiking boots, the two set off to explore their backyard. Their yard happened to be 149 acres of which some of it was part of a mountain, but it was theirs. Moving from California, they had an excess of funds from their house, which had to be re-invested, or they would have to pay capital gains taxes on it. Buying land with mineral rights seemed like a good plan.

After they had watched some program on the cable channels some months back about buried treasure, they were both keen on getting into what they were doing. Since they only had the one metal detector, they had arranged to switch off once someone discovered something the other person took a turn. It was great fun as they dug up small meteorites, beer cans from an old campfire site, and nails from one time or another. Finding square nails, they knew that whatever they were used on was during the 1800s or early 1900s.

Sue was already thinking about something crafty to make with them.

Harold was delighted that she was having such a good time. Swinging the detector back and forth like some colossal pendulum Sue was thinking it must be broken.

Harold is the battery already dead, She asked.

Shouldn’t be, why?

The reading is the same no matter where I go with it, look?

The high-frequency oscillation created by the device only changed slightly at the apex of the arc on either side of her swing. Lifting the detector straight up caused the sound to vary in pitch too. Backtracking their steps, the sounds went back to normal.

This is strange; I bet that there is some lead deposit under these rocks, and that is what we are detecting.

We are not that far from Leadville; it makes sense. She said.

Harold went back to the point that the noise started. Turning on the