Otzi Two(Anthony Colombo) Note to reader: This story takes place about four years before the major wildfires in northern California. So, here is the story.

Sunday mornings in Weed, California where nothing to speak of happens. Most of the people in this small town were in church or just sleeping in. For officer Andrew Michaels Sundays were the best time of the week to catch up on his reading of the local newspaper, that way he could keep abreast of the important happenings like, who was planting early or what the local politicians had planned to spend what little money the town coffers had amassed.
Andrew had just poured his second cup of coffee when the door opened and in strutted Deputy Matt Smith. “I see the city is in good hands.”
“Yeah, well I can’t say the same things about the county now can I?”
“Is there anything good in the paper,” asked Deputy Smith.
“I guess you can say it is good news. Neither you nor me are in the obituaries.”
“Tell me you haven’t been looking to see if I am in the obits on a regular basis.”
“Not on a regular basis, I usually just check to see if I am in there, but when I saw you come in I thought that I would check you out just to let you know there was something to be happy about,” said Officer Michaels.
“Now I really am glad you have nothing to do, because I got something that even you might like a part of.”
“Shoot, I’m all ears,” answered Michaels.
“Well, have you ever heard of Otzi,” asked Deputy Smith.
“You talking about an Italian restaurant owner or the Italian iceman,” asked Officer Michaels.
“The iceman of course,” Smith replied.
“Hey, what kind of guy you think I am. I watch National Geographic once in a while. I even know he got his name because of where they found him, the Otz valley of the Otztal Alps.”
“I am impressed. Then you also know that when they found him they thought he was just some guy that had nothing to do other than hike through the Alps until one day he died and was covered over by ice for five thousand years, right?”
“So,” asked Michaels.
“So, my friend, sometime after they found the body, some scientist with nothing to do rechecked the X-rays and found an arrowhead in his back making him a victim,” continued Smith.
“And now you’re going to tell me the Italians are going for a warrant and an arrest is eminent,” snickered Michaels.
“No. I just said that to make a comparison to what I came to tell you now, if you got the time to listen,” said the deputy.
“Matt, I live to hear every word that comes from those perky little lips of yours,” said Michaels with an even bigger grin on his face.
“Well, you won’t be seeing this in the paper, at least not yet, but two kids were up on Mt. Shasta looking for Pluto’s cave because they heard it was the party place on the mountain. It seems they got lost by several miles and ended up about fourteen thousand feet higher and near Shastina. While up there they came across a new thermal vent, and the heat from the vent had melted some of the ice.”
“You are getting to the point of this story soon aren’t you,” asked Michaels.
“Gees, you sure like to kill a good story don’t you,” but not wanting for a reply, Smith continued. “Sticking out of the ice was the top half of a body, ergo the American version of Otzi.”
“I can see the headlines now, ‘Shastini found, area can finally rest easy.’”
“No you putts! The kids came off the mountain like the devil was chasing them and flagged down a chippie. You know how well they are trained in crime scene preservation, well any way he got his ice axe out and started chopping the body out of the ice until he saw a hole in the guy’s chest.”
“Wait, he had an ice axe in his evidence kit? I got to get the chief to put those in our trunks too. So, tell me that it was here he figured out he had a murder victim,” asked Michaels.
“Nobody ever said those guys were smart, but yes, and he called the counties best to assist.”
“’The counties best? ’ Which county? Not ours?”
“Go ahead laugh. Just remember when you need something you have to come to us too. Anyway,” Smith continued, “our guys got the body out and to the coroner. Oh yes, there was no evidence to speak of either.”
“This all happened this morning,” asked Michaels a little more seriously now.
“No about three weeks ago. This morning, however, the coroner called to tell us the body is older than Otzi by about two thousand years making him about eight thousand years old.”
“And,” asked Andrew.
“And, this, take a look,” and Matt tossed a clear plastic evidence baggie onto Andrew’s desk. The bag made a very audible thud when it hit the desk top.
Andrew picked up the baggie and using his thumb and index finger pushed the object around inside the baggie to get it to a place where he could see the object better. “This looks like a 9mm slug,” said Andrew.
“Good guess even for a city cop. It is a 9 mil.”
“Where did you find it,” asked Andrew.
“Believe it or not from the body and no it isn’t an eight thousand year old bullet. It is a twentieth century nine in an eight thousand year old body.”
“This is easy Matt. All you county guys have to do is get the Carabinieri. They got experience with the five thousand year old guy, how hard can this one be for them,” asked Andrew with a wide grin on his face now.
“This is serious Andrew. The bullet is modern in an eight thousand year old body, and no it wasn’t just fired into him. The coroner tells us that the bullet has been in this guy for the full eight thousand years.”
The smile faded and Officer Michaels picked up the bag for another look. He looked up from the bag to Deputy Smith, there was no humor only curiosity. “Where do you go from here,” asked Andrew.
“I don’t know. Maybe we call Jules Verne, see if he has a time machine lying around that we can use.” Matt stood quietly for a moment and then said, “Well, our department is sending bone samples and dental X-rays off to the FBI lab in Washington. Let’s see if they can come up with anything.”
“Really, J Edger’s files go back to the twenties but I don’t think even him, if he were still alive, would be able to do much to identify an eight thousand year old guy.”

Weeks passed and during that time there was little either officer could do. They did, however, make several trips to the site where the body was found with no new results. They even tried contacting scientists from every ‘ology they could think of. They took a trip to the NASA facility at Moffett field in Mountain View, California. While most of the people they talked to spoke in theoretical terms none of them seemed to be trying to pull their legs, but really tried to help. None of them offered any hard fast facts, but none of them ever said that time travel was out of the question either.

It was at NASA that they met with a theoretical physicist, Dr. Sam Becker. He was the stereotypic space scientist. His hair looked as though he had used some kind of gel on it and then ran his hands through it several times before letting it air dry. About half way down the bridge of his nose hung a pair of granny glasses, and his clothes, while clean, were rumpled and he wore an unbuttoned vest over his shirt. It took both Matt and Andrew’s constant reminders to keep the doctor on terms that they could understand. But, all things considered, Doctor Becker was their best source of information. From him, they found out that just a mile south of Moffett field off highway 101 was a facility owned by the Lockheed Corporation and staffed with scientists from UCLA and Stanford Universities. Doctor Becker told Andrew and Matt that he had consulted with them on several different projects but could go into no details because of security classifications. Again they had the feeling that while he was telling them nothing, they were hearing all they wanted to know.

Doctor Becker introduced the two officers to Doctor Preston Fuller another theoretical physicist. Doctor Fuller and another physicist named Phillip Stevens had been working on vehicles that might reach the speed of light and maybe even surpass it. Doctor Becker was convinced that their studies might shed light on the time travel question and if it did these two men were the ones to see. Even with the help of Doctor Becker, it wasn’t easy getting an appointment. Still after about three weeks the unbelievable happened, they were in. With a military police escort the two officers were ushered into Doctor Fuller’s office. “Gentlemen, I am Doctor Fuller. How can I help you?”
Speaking for both men, Andrew made the introductions on his side, and then told Doctor Fuller as much as he could about an ongoing investigation. He was very careful not to bring up the idea of time travel and left that to the doctor’s own imagination. The three men talked for more than an hour with just about the same amount of information as in all the interviews being exchanged. Near the end of their meeting, or, at least, to a point where both officers felt they were getting nowhere, Andrew asked, “will it be possible to speak to Doctor Stevens? We were led to believe that he too works in this same area of science.”
Doctor Fuller seemed taken aback by the request for only a moment and then said, “Gees, I’m not sure that is possible, you see he is out of the country. He went to Paris, France to attend a conference on the peaceful use of the moon.”
“A very commendable activity I’m sure, but when is he expected back in the states,” asked Deputy Smith.
“I can’t be sure. I know he had some other things he wanted to take care of while overseas. He had talked about taking some time to visit Israel, and I’m just not sure,” replied Fuller.
“Thank you doctor for your time,” said Andrew getting up to leave. Then after a step toward the door he turned back to the doctor and added, “If by some chance Doctor Stevens should get in touch with you, please tell him about our interest in speaking with him. Oh, here is my card if you think of anything else that might help us. Thanks again,” and they both left the room.

In the hall walking with the military escort Andrew turned to Smith and whispered, “Did you get the feeling that we just got the best snow job science could offer?”
Deputy Smith only said, “Blizzard.”

Again, weeks passed with nothing new developing. Again, it was Sunday morning and Andrew was reading the Sunday paper with a cup of coffee in his hand. And, again, in strutted Deputy Smith. Seeing the deputy Andrew said, “Not yet”
“What are you batting your lips about,” asked Smith.
“We’re still not in the obits,” said Andrew.
But, before Smith could reply, the office door opened and in came the most striking woman of color, in a gray business suit that only enhanced her attributes, that either man had ever seen. She saw the two gawking and asked, “Which of you two boys is Michaels and who is Smith?”
Upset by the apparent affront Andrew said, “I am OFFICER Michaels and this is DEPUTY Smith,” emphasizing their titles and asked, “Who are you?”
“I am Special Agent Jessica Jackson FBI, and no I am not related to anyone!”
“OH, I get it Jackson, not related, HA HA HA, Jackson, yeah. Well FBI agent Jackson not related, what can we do for you,” asked Andrew.
“It has come to our attention that you are looking into a missing person’s case and I am here to tell you two to back off. This is our case and we will handle it,” said Jessica.
“Well Agent Jackson, this is a homicide and we have no intention of backing off,” said Deputy Smith.
“I see, this is a lesson in criminal law isn’t it. Well Deputy Smith, let’s take a long look at that. In the first place law in this country is statutory. That, Deputy Smith, means that there is no crime if it isn’t written down in our law book, are you two following me so far.” she asked and continued without waiting for their answer. “Since this alleged crime took place before the Ten Commandments were handed to Moses, you are investigating nothing and that means it is our case.”
“And you told me that the FBI couldn’t find a lollypop in a candy store,” Smith said to Andrew sarcastically.
“No, I said they couldn’t find a candy store in a mall,” snapped Andrew. Turning to Agent Jackson, Andrew said, “No, FBI lady, we are looking into a homicide that occurred in the present and has taken eight thousand years to solve.”
“Well boys that’s why it is now the government’s case. You see like it or not you’re in over your heads and that’s called classified information.”
“FBI lady,” said Smith, “you like it or not, but we are in this case and we will be making an arrest soon.” Andrew didn’t say a word but looked at Smith wondering what he knew that Andrew didn’t know. Smith saw the confusion on his friends face and added, “My department just received information from your crime lab concerning the samples we sent them. It goes without saying they were startled by what we sent but their results focused on a missing person thought to be at a conference in Paris, Doctor Stevens. After a quick check by me, no one answering to the description of Doc Stevens was ever at the conference nor had any such person taken any flight from the states to France. Here comes the kicker. During the time your crime lab dragged its feet, we conducted several interviews of Doctor Stevens’ coworkers. We turned up some interesting information. It seems that the relationship, hey, you know now I get it too Jackson, yeah. Anyway, almost everything we learned told us there were no friendly feelings between the two men and that Doctor Fuller wasn’t the lead brains on whatever it was that they were working on. So, pretty FBI lady, we got motive, they were about to release their results but Fuller wanted the glory for himself, and the bullet in the body is means and the fact that they were in the presence of each other on a daily basis is opportunity.”
“Circumstantial, Deputy Smith, circumstantial. If that is all you have you don’t have enough to even get the case to your district attorney.”
“Ah, but here is the coop-de-gracey as one might say,” and he held up a shiny disc. “This Agent Jackson is a disc provided by the security staff of the building where the two men worked. On it you can clearly see Doctor Fuller carrying a heavy tube shaped object over his shoulders,” and seeing Agent Jackson about to say something, raised his hand stopping her and went on, “I know the tube alone doesn’t mean a thing, but the video also shows shoes sticking out of the end.”
All three stood silently just looking at one another waiting for the reality to sink in. Then, “I know what happened,” said Andrew. “I been doing some reading and I saw a National Geographic called the Clovis Comet. It took this for me to put them together. Doctor Fuller and Doctor Stevens invented a time machine. They were going to be famous only Doctor Fuller didn’t want to share. He knew about the comet and he knew that time can erase a lot of things. So, bang, Stevens out of the picture. Now he has to get rid of the body, easy, a trip to Mount Shasta eight thousand years in the past and no body.”
“But why eight thousand years, the iceman is only five thousand years old,” said Andrew still confused.
“True, but you still have a body, remember, and the doctor was counting on the comet to clean up what might be left,” answered Smith.
“Well, FBI lady, would you like to join us in making an arrest for a crime that happened three months ago and took eight thousand years to solve?”

About two hours later all three officers were outside the open door to doctor Fuller’s lab. Andrew, the most vocal of the three said, “Ah, Doctor Fuller may we see you for a minute or longer which ever seems more appropriate?”
“This is a restricted area, How did you people get in here,” asked the doctor.
“Easy,” answered Andrew, “FBI lady here has a top secret clearance and she took us in because we have the warrant for your arrest. Any other Questions,” asked Andrew.
“Yeah, who did I kill?”
“Doctor Stevens,” answered Deputy Smith.
“You can’t be serious,” said the doctor.
“OH, but we are. Do you recognize this,” asked Smith and held up a plastic bag with a hand gun in it.
“No, why should I,” asked the doctor.
“Probably because it’s your 9mm and we found it in your desk drawer when we served a search warrant at your house earlier today,” said Smith, and added, “I’ll bet anything that the bullet in the doctor Stevens’ chest will match the grooves in its barrel, what would you bet?”
“That’s something you will have to prove Isn’t it,” asked Fuller.
“Maybe, maybe not,” said FBI Agent Jackson, “You seem to have planned this out very carefully, but, omitted a few minor details.”
“What the . . . what are you talking about?”
“Well let’s see, first, you didn’t consider the geologic history of Mount Shasta over the past eight thousand years. Second, the bullet, copper doesn’t rust away like other metals, and lastly, the rules implemented by new Homeland Security Laws as of September 11, 2001. This is a classified matter affecting the welfare of our nation. There’s going to be no trial doctor, just a lot of time in jail, and, if anyone should be interested, you decided to join Doctor Stevens on his sabbatical.”

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