The Secret of Khalua

The envelope was like a set of Russian dolls, one inside the other. The first one revealed a flight itinerary that made two stop-overs prior to landing in Fairbanks. Inside this envelope was yet another envelope that had a message written in black magic marker, "Read when you are alone."

I went to my office and peaked. Inside was a manuscript of copied, printed pages and, yes, another envelope. The papers were from a technical journal, with technical jargon, and were authored by a Dr. Bernard Eastlund. As I thumbed through it I noticed that various parts had been hi lighted with a yellow marker, but it was long and tedious and so I focused on the remaining envelope.

Inside this there was a single index card and a small tin button, the kind you bend and pin on your lapel. It was red and had three white words on it, "Khalua Is Sweet!" The card had a hand written note, "Wear the pin if we are safe."

I had the feeling something was missing. I turned the envelope upside down and shook it, but it was empty. I looked at everything for a few minutes, trying to understand what was happening, but it just made me more confused. That evening I read the technical papers, and it only added to my confusion.

Dr. Bernard Eastlund was no priest. From what I had already read, Eastlund was a genius who had devoted his life to the research of electromagnetic wave propagation. The article was much too lengthy for me to absorb, but it appeared that he had invented a process for sending energy through the air, like a radio signal, where it could be received and used like an electrical outlet. At least that was all that I could understand at the time. As I read the paper, my thoughts kept distracting me. I kept replaying the voice on the phone. What was the connection of the fear I heard with the elaborate drama that was in my hands.

The flight was only two days away. I made my plans to leave, to have someone feed my cat, and to take a digital camera and laptop with me. I had never been to Alaska before. I knew it was cold there so I packed a couple of sweaters. Everything I had managed to squeeze into a small suitcase. The return flight allowed me only four days in Alaska so my wardrobe consisted mostly of clothes I would be wearing when I left.

I shared the details of the trip with Vey. At first he tried to persuade me not to go, fearing that it was dangerous and there were, in his words, "just too many unknowns." But wasn't that really what this was all about - exploring the unknown? Eventually we both agreed that it was an acceptable risk and potentially a great adventure. We made arrangements to keep it a secret between us and I promised to call him to assure him I was safe.

The evening before I left we went to a bar. Vey ordered me a drink, a Black Russian made with vodka and Khalua. It was a nice touch and we laughed. The drink was strong, but the Khalua was sweet. I was surprised to get drunk on such a delicious concoction. It was a very un-sobering reminder that some things are not what they seem.