The Alien Accord Read online

  Table of Contents

  Praise for Betsey Kulakowski

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Sneak Preview of The Monk’s Grimoire

  About the Author

  Also by Betsey Kulakowski

  About the Publisher

  Sign up for Betsey Kulakowski's Mailing List

  Praise for Betsey Kulakowski

  “The Veritas Codex is an amazing series that keeps the pages turning and your mind spinning. Suspenseful like Stuart Woods, yet thought-provoking like Dan Brown, Kulakowski has the incredible ability to weave together the threads of fact and fiction and sew them into an amazing literary tapestry that leaves you wanting more.”

  Brandon Marsh, Host and Executive Producer, The Paraunity Podcast

  “The Veritas Codex series is a hearty paranormal narrative entree seasoned with suspense. It satisfied my craving for everything paranormal! Thank goodness there are more in the series—Betsey Kulakowski has whet my appetite and I am begging for more! ”

  Xander Zweig, co-host of the Xander & Stone

  Science & Supernatural Podcast

  “Realistic heroes and villains. International intrigue. More plot twists than a cup of nightcrawlers. Betsey has definitely raised the bar [in The Jaguar Queen].”

  J. Don Wright, author of Behold!

  “The Jaguar Queen keeps the momentum going in the Veritas Codex series. I am becoming very invested in the team of Lauren, Rowan, Bahati and Jean-Rene. “

  Donna Key

  “I couldn’t put [The Veritas Codex] down! I knew halfway through that it was going to be a late night because I couldn’t quit turning the pages. I can’t wait for the next book in the series.”

  Lisa Smallwood

  “Relatable characters and crisp pace...The Veritas Codex combines the intrigue and chemistry of The X-Files with the intensity of The Da Vinci Code.”

  Jaz Primo, author of Gwen Reaper

  “Engaging characters and remarkable plot twists jump from these pages. They pulled me into a thrilling world I did not want to leave.”

  John Wooley, author of Seventh Sense

  “I enjoyed [The Veritas Codex]. The writing is well done. I really liked the characters. It kept me engaged to the point I was speed reading (to find out what was going to happen) and I had to slow myself down!”

  Terri Folks

  “

  Copyright © 2021 by Betsey Kulakowski

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For Barry, who made a joke that turned into a character that inspired a book.

  For Jackie, who always bought me coffee, laughed at my jokes, and cried at all the appropriate moments.

  Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don’t last; and stars and galaxies are transient fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend...

  Neil Gaiman, The Sandman #7

  Prologue

  “Extraterrestrials definitely exist,” the Russian astronaut said in his thick accent. He gazed unblinking into the camera. It was his first interview for an American television documentary. While he visibly trembled with nerves, he spoke with the authority of a man who knew something he wasn’t supposed to know; wasn’t supposed to tell. “And they live among us ... or have probably lived among us at one time.” The astronaut continued. “There are billions of stars in the universe ... so many that there must be different forms of life. Are they just like us? Made up of carbon and nitrogen? Do they breathe oxygen? Nyet. Probably not.”

  “Dr. Budnikov, have you ... seen them?” The moderator asked. “With your own eyes?”

  The gray-haired astronaut paused. “I’ve seen things I cannot explain. Things my government does not want me to tell.”

  “But you defected in 1986. Was that because you were afraid something would happen to you if you talked?”

  “Da.” He shrugged. “I had no choice. I know too much.”

  “You reportedly saw the wreckage of a downed alien craft in a remote region of the Soviet Union back in the late 1970s. Can you tell us more?”

  “Da.” He lifted his eyes towards the camera, as he spoke nervously. “I was a young soldier on my first assignment. We were told not to talk about it. I took pictures, even though it was against the rules. I never told anyone.”

  In the control room, techs pulled up an image that would appear as a cutout behind the astronaut before expanding to fill the whole screen. It was a grainy photo, poorly lit and the main features were not well-centered in the frame. It looked like the saucer section of the Starship Enterprise; half buried, scorched, and crumpled, in the stark Siberian landscape. Clearly, the landing hadn’t been easy.

  “That was 1979? Dr. Budnikov, why haven’t you come forward with this information until now?”

  He gazed down at his hands. “For the safety of my family, I felt it was best not to disclose what I knew. I know what can happen to someone who ... talks.”

  “Why now?”

  “Before this vessel crashed, we began receiving radio signals deep from space,” he said. His eyes shifted. “Then, they just stopped.” He glanced at something off camera. “But now ... the signals ... they’re back.”

  “What kind of signals?” The moderator’s brow furrowed.

  “Alien signals ...” he said. “A message from the cosmos.” He lifted his hand to make an arc over his head but stopped and dropped it abruptly. His whole countenance collapsed, and he sucked in a breath as he paled.

  Shouts and shuffles echoed off camera, and then the camera rocked as if it had been struck. The moderator looked away from the astronaut and fear filled his eyes. Gunshots echoed in the small space, and the camera shook violently on its tripod as it was hit hard. It fell over, the lens cracking with an audible crunch as it landed. Someone screamed. More gunshots echoed and bodies hit the floor. The astronaut fell just in the frame of the camera; a stunned expression faded to a blank stare. A single red circle marred his forehead. Blood trickled from the gaping hole.

  * * *

  Michael sat back from the computer monitor. His heart skipped a number of beats and his pulse vibrated in his throat. A cold sweat broke out on his upper lip. A shiver washed through him. He closed his eyes as he tried to compose himself. Nothing could have prepared him for having to watch a friend and colleague being assassinated. “When was this?” He bowed his head and took a deep breath.

  “Just a couple of days ago,” Dr. India Cameron said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as she stood behind him.

  “Has this been on the news?”

  “The AP ran a story about a Russian cosmonaut being shot, but the story’s been white-washed,” India said. “Sasha found it on the dark web. He was able to save the video before it was taken down, presumably by the government, but who knows. He sent it to me through our
secure webmail system.”

  Michael stood and paced behind his desk, fighting for composure. He turned his back on the room, leaning heavily on the credenza by the window. A trembling breath audibly escaped his throat before he straightened and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I’m sorry I have to ask, Michael. But when was the last time you talked to Alexei?” India asked.

  It took him a moment to find his voice. “Last week.” Michael ran a shaky hand over his face. “He called and said he was sending me some files and asked me to look at them. I expected them to come through email, but ... they never came. I tried texting him, but ...”

  “Did you talk to him about what we are working on? Did you mention Project Morning Star?” She lowered her voice.

  “No. I didn’t tell him anything.” Michael glanced at her with cautious reservation. “But I did ask him about his work.”

  “Did you ask him about the signals he was studying?” she asked. “The ones he mentioned in this interview?”

  Michael pursed his lips and looked away, still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that his colleague was dead. No one expected anything like this, least of all Michael. “Yeah,” he finally said. “From what he told me, it sounds exactly like what we’ve been working on.”

  “Did you tell anyone you talked to him?”

  “No.” A chill washed over him. “Who would have done something like that?”

  “If this were 1986, my first guess would be the KGB,” India said with a smirk.

  There was a long moment of silence as the project director leaned on the desk and folded her arms. Her red power suit strained over her pencil-thin frame. She poked her glasses with a manicured nail, pushing them up her equally thin nose. “Maybe it’s a good thing you’re going to Houston next week,” Michael’s boss said. “When does your flight leave?”

  “Saturday night,” he said. “It’s a long trip from Johannesburg to Houston. I hope there are no delays.”

  “I just hope our grant gets renewed,” India said. “God knows we couldn’t function without NASA’s support. We’re going to need it now more than ever.”

  “I haven’t been back to the States in a while.” Michael’s mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do and how to make the most of his time back in the US.

  “Don’t feel pressured to hurry,” she said. “Make friends. Build relationships. Relationships mean money. Maybe you can get a feel for what’s going on with some of the other radio-telescope teams ... especially Hubble. It’s a tight-knit community. Surely there’s chatter.”

  Michael nodded. He sat gazing off into the distance for a moment. “Maybe I can get a hold of my sister ...”

  “Your sister?” India furrowed her brow.

  “She’s into the ... unusual, even the bizarre,” he said. “She and I have joked for years about who was going to find ... well.” Michael hesitated, unable to speak the words, considering what he had just witnessed. “If she’ll even talk to me, she might be of some help ...”

  “If she’ll talk to you? Why wouldn’t she talk to you?” India eyed him dubiously.

  “We haven’t spoken in years,” Michael said. “We are ... not close.”

  “No time like the present to mend old wounds,” India stated matter-of-factly as she stood. Michael thought of Alexei. He was one of those friends he could go years without talking to, but when they met up, it was like a day hadn’t passed. They’d toast each other with good vodka and talk for hours about the mysteries of the universe. He would miss those conversations. India moved her hand to his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Enjoy your visit to the states.”

  “Thanks,” Michael said, turning on unsteady legs. He wasn’t sure what frightened him more, the thought of the KGB or the thought of staring down his sister. He wasn’t even sure where she was these days, but he had an idea of where to start.

  Chapter 1

  Lauren and Rowan stepped off the plane at LAX feeling frazzled. Eight hours on a redeye flight over the Pacific Ocean was bad enough, but eight hours with a nine-month-old on an airplane had been excruciating. Henry was a good traveler, but he’d been cranky even before they’d left Hawaii, and Lauren wasn’t much better off. Poor Rowan had to put up with both of them being tired and cranky.

  “Let me get you some coffee then we’ll go find our luggage and pick up the rental car,” Rowan suggested.

  “What time is our meeting at the studio?” she asked.

  “Not until three.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s six Pacific Standard.”

  “Honestly, I’m not interested in coffee,” she said. “I just want to lie down in a bed and sleep for a few hours before we have to go to work.”

  “Fair enough.” Rowan shouldered his bag, taking Lauren’s carry-on so she could carry the baby, who’d finally fallen asleep; a limp weight in her arms. He had his head on her shoulder. Drool left a dark stain down the back of her shirt. “Come on.” He urged her down the crowded terminal.

  “Tell me again why we didn’t fly into San Diego?”

  “I couldn’t get a direct flight,” he said as they headed towards the escalator, descending to the luggage pickup area. “All the flights came to LAX with a layover before going to San Diego. We’ll be in San Diego before the next flight leaves from LA.”

  “Right.” Lauren yawned. She felt as tired as Rowan looked. He had dark circles under his puffy eyes. “Did you get any sleep on the plane?”

  “A little,” Rowan said.

  “You’re not too tired to drive, are you?”

  “I might need a coffee once we get on the road.” He stifled his own yawn. “You had your hands full with Henry.”

  “I think he must have an earache.” Lauren ran her hand over the sleeping baby’s copper hair. “That or he’s cutting teeth.”

  “Maybe.” Rowan shrugged. “Or maybe he’s still upset about what happened yesterday.”

  “Do we have to talk about that now?” Lauren stopped at the bottom of the escalator, stepping aside while Rowan oriented himself, before he continued. The crowds dissipated, and she followed him to an empty bench near their luggage carousel.

  “We’ve spent the last twenty-four hours not talking about it,” he said. “Heck, we’ve spent the last nine months not talking about it. What’s going on with you, Lauren? How’d you get to Mexico? How’d you get to the farmer’s market in Hilo?”

  “Don’t you think if I knew I would tell you?” she said, exasperated. “I have to think there are forces at play of which I have no understanding of, or any control over. You were in trouble. I was in trouble.” She watched as people moved past them, shifting Henry to a more comfortable position as she sat.

  “Forces? What forces?” Rowan sat beside her but neither looked at one another.

  “You can keep asking as many times as you want, Rowan, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly have answers.” Lauren was tired, hungry, and irritable. Still she tried to keep her tone even so as not to attract any attention from the people gathering around carousel four waiting for their luggage. “I just know I had to get to you before Santiago Mateo killed you. I was in labor ... I was desperate. One minute Stephanie Wentworth and I were in San Diego ... the next thing I know ... we were in Mexico. I don’t know how it works. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “Forces, huh?” he muttered under his breath. “I suppose I could understand a desperate moment, but magically teleporting to the Farmer’s market because you forgot coconut? What forces in this universe have anything to do with forgotten coconut?”

  Lauren drew up, wrapping herself around Henry. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice cracking. “But it’s terrifying to be in one place, then suddenly be in another. Not knowing where you are or how you got there? I wish I could give you answers, and I’m sorry that I can’t. But ... I’m still trying to process it.”

  * * *

  Rowan sat with his elbows on his knees, his brow clamped over his eyes as he conside
red what Lauren had said. It terrified him, too. He’d tried asking before, after Mexico, but she never had any answers. At first she’d dodged the question, then she’d come up with some cock-and-bull story about what she thought happened. Now that it’d happened a second time, he was more determined to get answers. He glanced back at his wife, seeing the distress on her face, realizing she was no closer to that goal than he was. It upset her every time he brought it up, and they usually ended up fighting. He didn’t want to fight with her, he just wanted answers.

  Rowan finally gave up and left Lauren and Henry to go see about their rental car.

  * * *

  Lauren sat, finding herself staring off into space. When the carousel began to hum to life, she perked up and watched for their things, debating how she would manage two suitcases, a car-seat, and a stroller. The crowd of people standing alongside the conveyors began to swarm in, and Lauren decided to keep her spot and wait until everyone else had their things before she even tried.

  She spied their suitcases on the conveyor, and stood, rocking Henry side to side as she waited, happy to be able to stand up and stretch as she mentally worked through the logistics of the task before her. She noticed an olive drab rucksack on the conveyor next to their bags, just as a soldier in his military fatigues stepped up beside her. “Looks like you could use some help,” he offered, reaching out and catching the handle of the stroller, pulling it off.

  “Thank you,” Lauren said as he reached for the car seat.

  “What else?” he asked, as Lauren managed to unlock the stroller and set it up one-handed. She’d done it plenty of times before.

  “The blue roller bag and the red duffle.” She pointed. The soldier moved to catch them both, and set them off, before grabbing his bag too. Lauren got the baby settled in the stroller, then turned to the soldier. “Thank you so much! I wasn’t certain how I was going to manage all that.”

  He grinned and she realized he’d recognized her. “Where’s your ... husband?” He looked around. Rowan usually got recognized first.

  “Getting our rental car lined up.” She smiled.