Sky People by Ardy Sixkiller Clarke Read Free Book Online Page B

strange smell. Nothing familiar to us, and as we were discussing what it might be, we came out of the tree canopy into the plaza. That’s when we saw the craft. It was setting in the middle of the plaza.”
    “Can you describe it?” I asked.
    “It was a long, dull, dark metallic craft. It looked like a tank and at first, we thought it was a tank, but then we saw the space men. They were dressed in gray suits that matched the craft. They were tall and thin and had light hair. They did not wear headgear like modern astronauts. That’s what confused us at first. To tell you the truth, my first thought was that they were Americans and we had stumbled upon some secret operation by the American military. When you live in this part of the world, we always hear rumors about American soldiers carrying out secret missions. I don’t know how much is truth or fiction or a combination of the two.” He paused when the phone rang and excused himself. I heard him call for security, who appeared almost immediately. He directed him to take ice to the lady who had rented the penthouse on the top floor.
    “Sorry for the interruption,” he said as he returned to the chair next to me. “We have guests who never sleep.”
    “You were saying that when you first saw the space men, you thought they were U.S. military,” I said, reminding him of his stopping-off point.
    “Yes. Part of it was the color of their hair and part was the uniforms. They wore very strange uniforms. They were two-piece. The shirt was like a tunic that came down over the waistband of the pants. The pants were tucked into boots. The strangest part about their uniforms was that when they moved about, the colors changed to match their environment. When they were close to their craft, the uniforms were dark gray to match the craft. If they were near trees, their uniforms became green and blended into the jungle. When they climbed the temple, they were the color of the stone. My cousin, Albert, said it was a military secret, and they wore uniforms to make them invisible to the enemy. We decided that only U.S. soldiers would know how to do that, so we all agreed that this explanation sounded logical.”
    Alexandro paused as two inebriated men entered the hotel. They had their arms around each other to steady themselves. When they saw us, they called out to Alexandro and offered him a drink. Immediately, Alexandro moved to the desk and called security. When a short, muscular man dressed in a navy blue uniform with an insignia on the shoulder and a policeman-style hat appeared, the two doubled over in laughter, steadied themselves, and saluted him. The security officer moved forward, took their room key, and ushered them toward the hallway. “Jack will take care of them. They’re harmless. They have been with us for two weeks. They are opening a hamburger franchise here in Belize, and every night they go out and get drunk. And every night, I call Jack and he puts them to bed.” I heard him give directions to Jack in Kriol, a dialect that is spoken throughout the country, and then turned to me again.
    “So when did you decide that the men you were observing at the ancient site were not from the USA?” I asked.
    “The four of us remained hidden and watched the scene unfolding before us. Alberto suggested we should leave and go get the village men, but Javier thought we should stay and watch. Jean agreed. I did, too, so we stayed. At first, they seemed to be checking their craft. They walked around it, occasionally stopping and recording something in a glowing tablet they carried. After a few minutes they walked toward the temple, but they did not climb the stairs; they walked through the stairs. We were all struck speechless. We could not believe what we had seen. We knew that underneath the temple was a cave. The four of us had found the entrance when we were boys, but we couldn’t walk through the stairs. They were solid stone, but they walked through them like they