The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE. (33 page)

Killian noted the emotional expression on Doli’s face, as she surveyed the shabby village. He reached over and patted her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go in and find the medicine man.”

Doli nodded and they rode in. Poorly dressed women and children stared up at them as they passed by. They stopped in front of a hogan that looked like it served as a store. Three old men with weathered faces were sitting outside, smoking pipes. Doli greeted them in Navajo, and asked if they knew where she could find the medicine man. One of the men pointed a bony finger in the direction of a hogan across the way. She thanked him and they rode over to the hogan and dismounted. Doli knocked on the door. A short, old woman opened it. She stood staring at the two strangers. Doli told her who she was and that she wanted to talk to the medicine man.

The woman’s face broke into a toothless smile. “Princess Doli! You’ve come home!”

Doli grinned at the old woman’s acknowledging her as a princess. “Yes, this used to be my home. Is the medicine man here?”

The woman nodded and retreated into the hogan. A moment later she returned. “The hahtahlih is waiting to see you. Go in,” she said, gesturing at them to enter.

As Doli and Killian stepped inside, the woman left, shutting the door behind her.

A stooped, old man was waiting for them. He was smiling. “Princess Doli, I welcome you back home. I am Atsah Be Yaz, son of Atsah.” He shook hands with Doli and Killian.

“Small Eagle,” Doli replied, “I fondly remember your father, Eagle. He was my teacher. I did not expect to meet with his son today.”

Small Eagle chuckled. “Yes, soon I’ll be ninety-two. I’ve seen many moons.” He looked at Killian. “I welcome you too, Taglito Silaada. I have heard much about you. Please sit down.” He pointed to a faded green sofa. Small Eagle sat down in a well-worn brown upholstered chair.

He gazed at them. “You have come for answers.”

“Yes,” Doli answered.

The medicine man nodded and let his hands fall open onto his lap.

“Who are the Navajo people, and what connection do we have to the Sky People?” asked Doli.

The hahtahlih thought for a moment. “Our history goes back over three thousand years when there were the Anaszi. In the old Navajo language, Anaszi means ‘ancient strangers’. They are thought to have been aliens or Sky People. We don’t know if we are the descendants of those ancient strangers, or if they were simply our teachers and guardians, over the centuries, when we were growing and becoming strong. The Indian nation was sixty million, before the white man came to our land.” He paused in thought. “Over the years it has been passed down that we are ‘dine’, the people. To us, other humans are ‘not people’. They are the ‘anaii dines’, enemy people. It has been passed down that we are divine dine, holy people who are closely associated with the gods.”

Doli was thinking about what she’d been told. “We are ‘dine’,” she echoed, “and for many years we have been the chosen people of the Sky People?”

“It has been passed down that we are, Princess Doli.”

“Have the Sky People returned since our people made the forced three hundred-mile march across New Mexico?”

“No, they have not returned.”

“If they were our guardians, why didn’t they help us, Small Eagle?”

“My father Atsah told me the council had meetings discussing that subject.”

“And?” asked Doli.

“It was believed the Sky People were not pleased with the Navajo. At that time we were known as fierce warriors. Our people fought for their land until the 1860s. But then the white eyes built Fort Defiance, and a short time later, their soldiers killed or captured one hundred-thousand of our people. We became disheartened and lost our spirit. The council thought we displeased the Star Warriors.”

“How?” asked Doli.

“The Star Warriors had taught us how to fight and be strong. Their belief was knowledge and strength was earned, not given. We disappointed them in giving in to the white man and his ways. They taught us to be strong, yet we became weak. The Star Warriors abandoned us because of our weakness in the face of adversity.”

No one spoke for a few seconds.

“Why did they create the Blues?” asked Killian.

“The white people in America and other countries had become too numerous to conquer. At the time, the white man was gaining strength and power. The Sky People gave power to the Star Warriors to create thousands of Blues who, they believed, would be powerful teachers, guardians and law enforcers, and would create a balance in all things in the world. The intention was for the Blues to infiltrate the white man and help the Indians from within. Their plan was for the Blues to be super dines, who’d create a bond between the white man and the Indian. Blues were the Sky People’s answer to the Indian’s problem. The Blues were supposed to do good, spread knowledge, and become leaders of all men. Much of this has come true, as there are many good Blues in the world.”

“What went wrong?” asked Doli.

“Some Blues did not do good things. They had great hatred and sought revenge for how the white man treated their people. They abused the power given to them. They began transforming into animals and became known as Skinwalkers. The Sky People’s intention was for the Blues to be able to do shapeshifting in the form of human to human, not into animals. But the evil Skinwalkers had more hate than love in their souls. They took advantage of the fact they couldn’t be killed by bullets. They became half-human-looking creatures that terrorized, and sometimes killed innocent people for hate and pleasure. The Star Warriors became angry with the behavior of their creation. Our forefathers believed that to be another reason why the Sky People abandoned the Indian nations in 1870.”

“Skinwalkers are rarely seen now,” Doli observed. “It’s the Blue Warriors, like Lupan, and his followers who have replaced the Skinwalkers that turned into animals.”

“Yes, Princess Doli, that is true. They’re no longer interested in scaring the white man; they want to kill him. Lupan and his kind are a reason the Sky People no longer look favorably on us.”

“There will come a day when I’ll find Lupan and end his evil ways, Small Eagle,” Killian assured the old medicine man.

Small Eagle gazed at Killian. “Taglito Silaada, over the years we have questioned why the Star Warriors made you a Blue.”

“It was an accident, Small Eagle.” Killian told the medicine man the story of his friend Tom Muldoon and their fight with the two Navajos, one of whom was a Star Warrior. When Killian had finished, Small Eagle nodded and smiled.

“It was a good accident. Your reputation for doing good things has spread throughout the Indian nation. Nevertheless, your ending Lupan’s life will not make all evil go away. On this earth, there are many like Lupan. Until the day the original intentions for the Blues are fulfilled, there will not be peace. It is written.”

“Recently, there have been sightings of alien ships,” said Doli.

“I have read about those, but none have come here to aid the Indian nation.”

Again they sat in silence for a few moments.

Then Doli stood up. “We can see things are not good for your people, Atsah Be Yaz.”

“It has been bad for the Indians for many years,” he answered.

“We will do what we can to help. I’ll have food and clothing sent out to you and your people, from Fort Defiance.”

Killian and Small Eagle stood up.

“Thank you, Princess Doli,” said the medicine man. “It will be appreciated.”

Killian removed his wallet, and handed the medicine man all the money he had, close to four hundred dollars. Tears came to the old man’s eyes.

“Thank you for your time and knowledge, Small Eagle,” said Doli as she leaned down and kissed the old man on the cheek.

Killian shook Atsah Be Yaz’s hand, then they left the hogan, and rode back to Fort Defiance.

Early the next morning, they drove back to Albuquerque, and boarded a plane for the National Airport in Washington, D.C. They spent the night at Maggie and Kip’s apartment in the city. Before dinner, while Maggie and Doli were in the kitchen, Kip took Killian into his den. He unfolded the previous day’s newspaper, and showed him an article on page four.

“I thought this might be of interest to you,” he said.

The caption read, “Indian Steeplejack War in the Big Apple.”

Killian proceeded to read the first part of the article, and then looked up at Kip, “Indian steeplejacks fighting four stories above the ground? That’s crazy.”

“It is, but keep reading,” suggested Kip.

Killian continued with the article. When he came to the next interesting part, he read aloud. “Four other steeplejacks, who were working on the floor below, swear they saw two of the Indians fall from the building; a third Indian was tied to a beam and set afire. They watched him burn, and then there was a bright flash of blue light, followed by a ribbon of blue-white smoke that rose up into the sky. However, the police reported no bodies were found on the ground, and there wasn’t a burned body tied to a steel beam, only a charred piece of rope. The witnesses are holding to their story, but the police say it doesn’t make any sense and think it may be a hoax.”

“Blue Warriors fighting Blues?” asked Kip.

“What the other four steeplejacks saw makes sense to me. But Blues fighting four stories up, doesn’t, Kip.”

“Do you think it could be Lupan, or a Blue Warrior like him, causing trouble?”

“Yes, it could be, but why fight and kill a Blue up there?”

“Do you think a war between Blues is breaking out?” asked Kip.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to New York to find out.”

Maggie walked into the den, followed by Doli. “What are you boys up to?” she asked.

“I showed the article to Killian.”

“What article?” Doli asked.

Killian handed her the newspaper. She read the article.

“We’re going there, aren’t we, Killian.”

“I am, but you don’t need to go.”

“No, I want to. It involves my people.”

Early the next morning, Kip drove them to Zack’s ranch. They had no idea what type of situation they would encounter in New York, but they were going. Killian wanted to drive his pickup; he needed to take his lariat, bolas, extra rope and a few napalm B grenades. Killian had read the confrontation occurred at the construction site of the new World Trade Center. The police and newspaper people were baffled as to what had really happened. He and Doli, however, knew it had been between Blues and Blue Warriors. But why it happened was the question.

It was well-known that Indians, primarily the Mohawks from the Kahnawake reservation, were hired as riveters. It was one of the most dangerous jobs in construction and the highest paid. Few men wanted the job, but the Mohawks excelled and worked as four-men riveting gangs. As riveters, they preferred to work with partners they trusted; for the Mohawks, this meant working with relatives and fellow tribesmen.

It was late in the afternoon when Killian parked the pickup near the World Trade Center construction site. He and Doli looked up at the shell of the building. Its girders stood six stories high. They walked over to the exit gate and waited as the crane operators, the fitting-up men, the Indian riveters and others punched their time clock cards, and came out though the eight foot-high wire gate. Most were Mohawks, but then they saw three Navajos, whom they recognized immediately as Blues. The Navajos stopped and were staring at them. Killian and Doli approached warily.

“I’m Doli, from the Navajo camp near Fort Defiance, and this is Killian,” Doli told them.

“We know of you, Bluebird and Killian, whom we know as Taglito Silaada. I am Frank Falcon; my friends are Mike Meadowlark and Charlie Crow.”

They all shook hands.

Doli smiled. “You have taken names of the American white man.”

“Yes. We wish to be part of their culture while still retaining our own,” answered Mike Meadowlark.

“We would like to talk to you about the fight where one of your friends was killed,” said Killian.

“Yes, Steve Sparrow was set fire by the Blue Warriors,” said Charlie Crow.

“Is their some place we could talk?” asked Doli.

“We share an apartment four blocks from here. We could go there,” offered Frank Falcon.

They climbed into Killian’s pickup and drove to the apartment building. Once inside, Frank Falcon opened five bottles of cold Rheingold beer and handed one to each of them, then sat down.

“Please tell us about the fight and Steve Sparrow’s murder,” Doli requested.

Frank Falcon looked at his two friends, who nodded for him to tell the story.

“Two months ago, our Mohawk friends told us there was a job opening for a riveting crew. They said they’d recommend and train us. Everything was working out fine until a few nights ago. We were having a beer at the Wigwam bar, here in Brooklyn. For years it’s been a local hang-out for the Mohawks. We saw the four Blue Warriors as soon as they entered the bar. They came straight to our table, took chairs and sat down. They told us the Blue Warrior leaders had sent them to New York to recruit Blues to go to Vietnam with them to kill American soldiers.”

“Did they say who the leaders were?” asked Killian.

“They mentioned Ma’ii tosh, Hashkeh Naabak and Lupan,” said Charlie Crow.

“Big Coyote, Angry Warrior and Gray Fox,” said Killian.

“Yes, but there are many other leaders,” said Meadowlark.

Frank Falcon continued. “We refused to go with them and told them to leave. They said we’d either come with them or die. They gave us two days to think about it. On the third day, they showed up at work. We were surprised when they actually came up to the fourth floor where we were working. Again they ordered us to go with them and again we refused. We began to fight. Mike and one of the Blue Warriors fell off a beam, four stories to the ground. While Charlie and I were fighting with two of them, the fourth one was able to tie Steve Sparrow to a girder and set him on fire. After he burst into flame they ran and left the building.”

“When the Blue Warrior and I landed on the ground we were both badly injured,” said Mike Meadowlark, taking up the story. “We were bruised and had broken bones. It was painful as hell, but even more so when the healing began. The Blue Warrior was the first to get up and start to walk away. While still recovering, and without his knowledge, I followed him.”