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Lagomorphs
Copyright © June, 2015, FurryWurry
All rights reserved

Chapter 4 -- Medallions

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"I'm sorry we couldn't meet in my office. Homeland Security is doing some kind of security audit, and they aren't letting anybody through the front gates until they've finished. Or through the back gates, either, for that matter." Bill was trying too hard, Jeff thought. His joke, if that was what it was supposed to be, was rather feeble.

"That's OK. The coffee here seems fine." The extended waits in several intermediate airports, and then the long ride in the automated car had left Jeff somewhat groggy. Maybe the caffeine would help. Certainly the diner's run-down decor didn't, or its location in what seemed to be a poorer part of town. They just made him uncomfortable. He was not at all sure why Bill had suggested the place. Bill's tailored suit and custom-designed briefcase were quite out of place. Most physicists who Jeff knew couldn't have afforded either of them, let alone the people who must live around here.

"I have to admit that I didn't quite tell your boss the whole truth. The project I'm working on really isn't particularly interested in collaborating with your Lab. Actually, it's your personal help that we want, and we could make it well worth your while." Bill looked at him expectantly.

"My help? I'm not a theoretical physicist. I just administer computers. What could I do to help study branes and string theory?"

"Quite a lot, actually. Although it's more experimental physics at this point, not theoretical. We'd like your help in mapping what appear to be inter-brane field potentials at a site not far from here. We'll provide the instrumentation. You'll just have to carry it around the Puye Pueblos. Since you're going there anyhow, it really won't be out of your way. The field meter is quite small, too, almost unnoticeable."

"I still don't understand why you need my help. Can't one of your own staff do the mapping?"

"Well, let's just say our relationship with the tribal elders is somewhat strained at the moment." He at least had the grace to look embarrassed. "One of my associates had a misunderstanding with one of their senior shamen a few weeks ago. For the moment we're all [i]personae non gratae[/i] on tribal lands. I'm sure it'll all be cleared up soon, but in the meantime you're our only hope."

"I see." So if they found out who was employing him, he'd be black listed, too. So what? He wouldn't really be wanting to go back, would he? It wouldn't matter if [i]he[/i] was kicked out of the Pueblo. It was just a summer vacation for him, right?

Except that it did matter to him. He already knew that if things went well, one summer here wouldn't be enough. As it was, he'd been very lucky to get accepted. The waiting list was quite long, full of people wanting to return. He tried to keep his annoyance off his face.

"What kind of instrumentation would be involved? I suspect they wouldn't like me setting up readout devices all over their land."

"It's quite small, actually. You'd just have to carry it around. It'll measure locations and field strengths without you having to do anything. It's amazing what can be done with software and GPS tracking these days. I brought it with me. Here, take a look." Amazing? Where had this guy been for last few decades? He seemed to be trying to talk-up a standard geopositioning app.

Bill unlocked his briefcase and lifted out a small disk wrapped in what looked like silk. He carefully unwrapped it on the table. Jeff couldn't help but notice that he avoided touching the disk itself.

It seemed to be an ancient silver coin strung on a thin chain.

"It doesn't look like a scientific instrument, does it?" Bill seemed quite proud. "It's unlikely to attract attention since lots of people carry medallions like this."

Just looking at it gave Jeff the creeps, but he had to fight down the urge to reach out and touch it, to push it around a little, to see how heavy it was.

"Is that real silver?"

"It certainly looks like it, doesn't it? Of course, silver would interfere with any electromagnetic measurements."

Jeff pulled his hand back. His index finger really wanted to poke the coin, to find out if it was real.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't think I can do this for you. I'm surprised you asked, to tell the truth. After all, results based on illegally obtained data wouldn't be publishable, would they?"

"Well, we aren't planning to publish our results in an academic journal. A lot of the related research is classified. Are you sure there's no way I could persuade you to change your mind? The project has quite a large budget." He hadn't actually denied that acquiring the data would be illegal, Jeff noticed, and wasn't quite offering a bribe. He must want Jeff to ask for it, putting the onus on him. The whole encounter probably was being recorded.

"No, I'm sorry. I really can't. And I have to get going now. People are waiting for me." He could almost feel Bill glaring at his back as he left the diner.

His rental car was parked on an adjacent side street. As soon as he turned the corner he had to stop and lean against the wall. His heart was pounding and he could feel cold sweat running down his back. His knees were shaking, too. What the hell? The meeting had been stressful, but not to this extent. And something was urging him to go back, apologize, and accept the job. Shit. He obviously needed a long vacation if a little conflict could do this to him. Maybe he should have gone to Florida. Napping in hot sand under a beach umbrella sounded really good right about now. Or even counting gators in the Everglades.

When the worst of the reaction had passed, he was relieved nobody had seemed to notice. It wasn't the type of neighborhood where he'd expect people to be particularly sympathetic. Interested, maybe, but not sympathetic. Halfway down the block, near where the car had parked itself, there was a pawn shop and a bodega (if that's what they called them here) next to one another. "Checks cashed while you wait!" they both proclaimed. "Cash for gold!" the pawn shop added. Maybe he should get a cold soda. Or maybe they had something stronger.

The pawn shop had some Native American artwork in its window, "Priced to Go!" A couple of paintings and a blanket obviously had taken long hours of painstaking effort. Other items not so much. One display caught his eye, though, maybe because of what he'd just been through. Some medallions in a presentation box showed variations of a tree-of-life and several different animals. One had an engraving of a rabbit. It was the four-footed variety, but still....

He wasn't in [i]that[/i] big a hurry to get to Puye.

When he opened the door, it knocked against a bell, waking up the proprietor, who had been dozing behind the counter. Or at least that's what seemed to happen. Pawn shops must have some really sophisticated alarm systems, right?

"Can I help ya?"

"How much are those medallions?" Jeff waved toward the window display.

"Y'can have'm for a song! Only...."

The price was absurdly outrageous. The proprietor obviously had sized Jeff up as a rich out-of-state tourist. After all, who else would be riding in an automated rental instead of driving a beat-up pickup?

"Sorry, I'm really not interested in buying your whole stock. Maybe just one or two. Could I have a closer look at the ones in the window?"

"Sure. I can give y'a discount if y'want more than one, though." In other words, the price for just one would be way more than he wanted to think about.

The medallions seemed to be carved of bone. Each had an animal on one side and a different tree-of-life on the other, with buds, flowers and fruit distributed in a variety of ways. The medallions also felt very strange. They seemed a little hard to move despite being very light, almost as if their gravitational mass was less than their inertial mass. Jeff decided he'd been reading too much scifi. He probably needed a nap, too.

"So, were these made by a local tribe?"

"Yup. Musta been a few centuries back. Y'know, when Anasazi was all over these parts. Carved out of authentic jackalope horn, they are, too. Y'aren't gonna find the like anywhere."

Jeff just looked at him, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "Do many people fall for that?"

"Y'd be surprised. Y'wan'em or not?"

Half of them looked like they could be native animals: the rabbit, wolf and otter seemed reasonable, but the tiger, monkey, and Chinese dragon obviously had no business in a Native American collection. The box they were in was beautifully carved, though. "Th'guy spent weeks carvin' that out'a Chokecherry. Watched'm m'sel'. Right sad he was to sell it." Riiight.

"One of them seems to be missing." Jeff pointed out the empty depression. "Do you have it around somewhere?"

"Nope, that's all of'm. Wa'cha see is wa'cha get."

"Huh. That sucks. How about..." Jeff offered one tenth of the original price, but they settled at a quarter, with a cheap neck chain thrown in for free. The pawnbroker seemed satisfied with the deal, though, so he'd probably still paid way too much.

He hung the rabbit around his neck as soon as he got in the car, but then got out again. He really did want a cold soda, and maybe an energy bar would help, too. Maybe a whole box to take with him. Blueberries and nuts if they had them. Yum.

The bodega's cashier obviously was the pawn broker's younger brother.