Alien Affairs

Jan and Carrie drew curious looks when they crossed the hotel lobby. After changing and fixing their hair Carrie inquired of the concierge where they might find a hardware store. Oddly, he did not seem to find the question unusual. When she had her answer Carrie quizzed him about the spiraling hole in the ground and the water-filled tunnel.

“It is a puquio,” he replied. “Aqueducts built by the ancients.”

“Nice touch, Deshler,” she said to herself, and they went to the car to find the hardware store. Naturally, the place did not have a bolt cutter. The clerk suggested Sears. He pronounced it “say-ares,” so it took Carrie a moment to recognize the name. The world-renowned Craftsman tool department did indeed have a bolt cutter, and she also bought a battery-powered drill, an abrasive cutoff wheel and a mandrel for it. “I’m not crawling down there twice,” she told Jan.

The battery in the drill had to charge so they returned to the hotel and later enjoyed a dinner that was much less adventuresome than the previous evening. In the morning Carrie met Jan in the breakfast room where they had slices of ham and cheese with coca tea.

“With luck we’ll be homeward bound this afternoon,” Carrie said.

“I wish I had your optimism.”

“What could go wrong?”

“That remains to be seen. Come on, let’s check out and get started.”

The bellman looked askance at the bolt cutter in Carrie’s hand when he carried their bags to the car. The weather was fine and it took only minutes to drive to the place where they parked the car. Carrie was so anxious to get the job behind her that Jan had to jog to keep pace while crossing to the ojo, which was what the concierge said the opening was called. This time Carrie slipped off her shoes and pants before slipping into the cold water.

“Good luck,” Jan said as she disappeared into the tunnel.

It seemed to take longer to reach the sphere. When she found it she had a hard time operating the bolt cutter and keeping the drill out of the water at the same time, so she decided to try grinding through the lanyard first. Ten minutes later the cutoff wheel was exhausted and there was no mark on the cable. She dropped the drill and went to work with the bolt cutter. All her strength could not sever the tether. “Damn you, Deshler,” she said aloud. Taking her phone from her bra where she stuck it to keep it dry, she used its light to examine the rock, which convinced her again that removing it would cause the ceiling to collapse.

Admitting defeat she started for the ojo. Jan heard her coming. She called into the tunnel, “Carrie, we’ve got company. There’s some guy out here.”

“Shit! Well, tell him to turn around.”

“He doesn’t speak English.”

“Crap!” Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “Oiga, señor, estoy desnuda. Deme las espaldas, por favor. Did he turn around?”

“Yeah, but he’s laughing.”

She climbed out of the tunnel and wiggled into her pants, still wet, as quickly as she could. Carrie didn’t feel much like chitchat but she talked to the hombre long enough to learn that he was only curious as to what two gringas were doing down in the puquio. He left shaking his head.

Jan said, “So, where’s the thing?”

“It’s still in the tunnel. I couldn’t cut the damn cord.”

“Oh, hell, what’s plan ‘B’?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go back to Sears.”

She found a salesman in the tool department and told him a lame story about needing to remove a chain that was too hard to cut from a rock that was too big to move. He looked at her over the rims of his glasses and said, “Entonces, corte la roca.”

Carrie said, “Duh, cut the rock.”

When she left the store she had a battery-powered circular saw with a spare battery and a diamond blade. She also bought a towel, a pair of flip-flops, a bathing suit, a tote bag, some Ziploc bags and a waterproof flashlight.

The desk clerk at the Casa Andina was surprised to see them. “We missed our flight,” Carrie told him.

In the morning after ham, cheese and coca, they hurried to the ojo, Carrie changed into the bathing suit, donned the flip-flops, put the bag with all her gear over her shoulder and charged into the puquio. It took two hours and the juice of both batteries to slice a filet from the face of that rock. When it was free she left everything in the water and dragged the virus-filled aerosol canister into the light of day.

Jan hugged her and said, “Thank God, I was getting damned tired standing here.”

Carrie initially glared at her—then smiled.