The God Computer by Scott Troy Kovarik

Author:Scott Troy Kovarik [Kovarik, Scott Troy]
Language: ara
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, patrick rothfuss, aliens, tecnology, metaphysical, alien contact, Science Fiction, alien, Adventure, sci-fi, close encounters, Phillip K. Dick, action, Ursula LeGuin, fantasy, space novels, L. Ron Hubbard, space adventure, GOD, outer space, William Gibson, christian, metaphysics
Publisher: Higher Plane Publishing
Published: 2016-05-11T23:00:00+00:00

HUGE TUMBLEWEEDS CROSSED the highway like spooked herds.

“I wonder how it would feel to get hit by one of those,” I joked. The racing desert weed-balls can get taller than a man, and driven by the force of the Arizona wind they could easily knock one down.

“I could pull over if you want to find out,” she said, and smiled as she shifted into high gear. “Oraibi is known for the world’s biggest and fastest tumbleweeds,” she added.

“That’s quite a claim to fame,” I replied, as she expertly maneuvered to avoid them.

A thick blanket of white clouds hovered just above the desert floor, as if carved from plaster, sanded smooth and then suspended from the blue sky. The topography was a geological rainbow. Rich shades of brown flashed to life by the atomic sun were earthen, amber windows into bygone eons. We pulled onto a dirt road that led up a cretaceous canyon. Striations of rock revealed ancient processions of terra time past. No signs or markers identified our location. Perched on a mesa above was an adobe dwelling that resembled two big dice glued together, with solar panels on the roof that sparkled in the baking hot sun. We zipped through the dry gulch and climbed a steep, bumpy, cactus-lined drive to the top. Dust kicked up all around us as she hit the brakes. Once the haze cleared, a stoic figure stood motionless as a lawn statue. He wore jeans and a tee shirt, with black square-toed boots and a brimmed hat with a feather. The two tribal kin enjoyed a warm but brief reunion.

“Avery Cole, this is Thomas Stone Bear,” she introduced.

As he grasped my outstretched hand, a slight smile peeled years from his craggy leather face. His cloudy blue eyes glowed like wary yet vigilant keepers of an ancient story. Strands of grey-black hair accented his strong buffalo jaw.

“It is good to meet you White Brother,” he said. “Let us go in where it is cool,” he added in a deep resonant voice.

The interior was sparse as the desert. A few weaves and artifacts decorated the plain white walls. Stone Bear motioned for us to sit on a couch in the corner. He sat on an adjacent chair and grunted as he reached the cushion.

“Medicine don’t work on these old joints anymore,” he remarked.

“You mean traditional Indian medicine?” I asked.

“No, glucosamine and chondroitin…I bought it off the damn Internet,” he replied. “Miss Hopefeather tells me you are the man behind those medicine bottles everyone’s talkin’ about,” he said. I nodded affirmatively.

“She also said she found one,” he added, “and it had the matching halves of the symbols from the sacred Hopi Tiponi on it.”

“Yes, if the photo I saw was actually the Tiponi,” I replied.

“May I see the bottle?” he asked.

She passed him the decanter. He examined it carefully, turned and flipped it.

“No other human eyes have seen the symbols on the sacred stone tablet for over a century,” he said. “No record or photos exist except the one I gave her.

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