The Oxbow Report
By
Mike Purington
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"The Oxbow Report" by Mike Purington
Copyright © 2006 by Mike Purington. All rights reserved.
Published in the
by Tate Publishing, LLC
127
(888) 361-9473
Book design copyright © 2006 by Tate Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities and incidents included in the story are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events and entities is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 1-5988635-0-9
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Dedication
To Annette, the love of my life who for twenty-six years has continued to support and encourage all the projects I have undertaken. With this new project may we continue our extraordinary journey of life, and the many adventures it still holds.
As I write this the winds of hurricane Rita continue to blow and we don’t know what we’ll face when morning comes, but whatever it is we’ll face it together as we have done in the past. It’s strange what we sometimes think about, as it was only yesterday that the publisher called and accepted our manuscript. It was then that I was reminded that out of chaos comes order, out of death and destruction, new life, and the dreams of yesterday become the realities of tomorrow. The hurricane, this book and the ones that will follow are just another part of that wondrous journey we started March 3, 1979, and will continue for many more years to come.
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Forward
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Table of Contents
Part One – The Early Years
Prologue
Chapter One Reggie Hatch
Chapter Two Eagle One
Chapter Three Jack Rashad
Chapter Four Ozan La Baugh
Part Two – The beginning
Chapter Five Colonel Jonathan Edwards
Chapter Six Luke Smedit
Chapter Seven Jason
Chapter Eight Nachash
Chapter Nine Ramie
Chapter Ten The Plan
Chapter Eleven Conspiracy
Chapter Twelve The
Chapter Thirteen The Excavation
Chapter Fourteen Mysteries of the Ancients
Chapter Fifteen The Funeral
Chapter Sixteen Jeffery Wilmer
Chapter Seventeen Hat Creek
Chapter Eighteen Rubik’s Cube
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Prologue
Jason stood at the edge of a large gorge, below some two thousand feet exploding through the rocks and jagged walls of the canyon raged the mighty
In the beginning there had been no pain, just this incredible peace and tranquility that surrounded him and his parents. As he allowed his mind to drift he could still remember them. His father, so intelligent, so strong, and yet in all that strength was a gentleness that could not be explained. When he was young his father would carry him around and they would spend hours exploring the country side, when he tired of that, his father would play and wrestle with him. As he grew older his father would sit and teach him the wonders of their universe, then they would walk, and as they walked his father would answer all his questions, and explain it all in such detail, it left little room for questions.
His mother was as beautiful to him as she was gentle. As a child he remembered the smell of her hair, the touch of her hands, and the rhythm of her heart as she sang him to sleep. His father said it best, she not only had the voice of an Angel, but also of an Angelic host as she would sing and then harmonize with herself. As he grew older, it was she who cultivated his love for music and art. She had an uncanny ability to create masterpieces by combining painting with music, it was as though her creations had a life of their own as they expressed the grandeur that she saw and felt.
In the evenings they would sit and watch the sun reflect off the canopy. At times the brilliance of the light would literally explode, engulfing the sky in tumultuous rivers of color that rolled across the sky sparkling like the many precious stones found along the banks of the river. The white light was so bright that it caused even the shadows to shine like the sun. The hues of purple and gold were the last to be seen as the sun gave way to the night sky, and the prism like effect that danced over the landscape caused by the billions of multi colored stars. His life had been perfect, until that awful day.
There is a place that separates the conscious from the unconscious, and Jason had been there too long. Once again he felt his heart pounding like a hammer, and the river of sweat that poured down his face. The pain and agony he felt over the loss of his parents and his home so long ago seemed to weigh heavier than it ever had. He once again opened his eyes to the night sky, he licked his lips and swallowed hard, he tried to speak, but nothing came but the rush of tears and the sounds of a man in agony. It was only after a time that he felt a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice was heard.
I understand your pain and anger, for I feel it too. Someday when all has been set right, you will feel the peace you once had, and enjoy the comfort of family.
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The vastness of space so incredible, around the blue planet lies a galaxy some
Thirty one trillion miles in radius, suffice to say the nearest stars are but a few parsecs away. However as grand and glorious as this galaxy is, one lone planet stands out from the rest, a large blue ball in the emptiness of space. The planet is being watched, a plan created eons ago has been put into play, a plan that will once and for all re-unite man with his creators.
“Tell me Protector, why do we take such an interest in one lone planet?”
“Because that is where it all started. Earth has a very unique history, going all the way back to the beginning of time. Of all the planets in the universe the inhabitants of earth are very different in that what they do not understand they attribute to religion. Just as we taught you, so you and others will teach those you come in contact about the real meaning of life and creation. Most religions are based on ethnicity. The Arabic peoples are basically Muslim, the Jews have reverted back to the ancient Hebrew faith, and then there are the Eastern religions, all based on their civilization. There is one religion that is not ethnicity based and it will be most difficult in challenging, and that is Christianity. There are some who claim to be Christians who will change, but the devout ones will be a challenge, for their religion is not a changing of the mind, but a changing of the heart, you cannot challenge them with knowledge, you must challenge the very basics of their faith and the ancient book they rely on, then and only then by placing a small wedge between them and what they believe can you separate them from an age old superstition that clouds their thinking.
.
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Chapter One: Reggie Hatch
The war in the Middle East carried a high price for
During the Presidency of George W. Bush the war took a turn, instead of fighting a particular country, it became a war of ideology rather than that of territory. After the attack of nine eleven and the eventual defeat of the Taliban in
When a second attempt was made on several metropolitan areas in the
I have stayed the hand of the Military for now, however they have been given full authority to take what ever means necessary to bring those responsible for these acts of violence to our cities to justice. If they are delivered to the nearest embassy within one week I am prepared to grant the inhabitants of the Mid East leniency, if the deadline is not met I shall be forced to resort to the harshest measures possible, and I will make no effort to restrain the military until the job is done.
When the deadline was not met a bloody campaign called iron fist was put into affect, town by town, province by province, and mountain by mountain the military moved throughout the Mid East destroying what was left and taking hundreds of thousands of prisoners. Historians would later say this march by
On the memorial honoring those who fought in the Iron Triangle it read, Victory as well as defeat is hollow, for both sides wept over the loss of their youth. In the ensuing battles over ideology and religion a conflict that engulfed much of the
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(Ladies and gentlemen, as your president it’s with the greatest of pleasure that I announce on this 25 day of June, 2015, the unconditional surrender of all forces in the Mid East. Patrols will continue by land and by sea, but all major conflict has come to an end.)
The evening was cool, the melodious sounds of the crickets tuning up for a night of orchestrated harmony was quietly interrupted by the ripple of the water, the splash of fish catching insects, and the crackle of the campfire. High in the mountains, the lazy days of summer were making way for the tempestuous ways of winter. The war was over, it was time to relax. A day of fly fishing, and a supper including fresh trout, for Jonathan and Reggie life didn’t get any better.
Jonathan stretched, and brought his arms up over his shoulders as he leaned up against his back pack. Yawning loudly he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, he looked up at the night sky.
“You know, a year ago I wouldn’t have given you two cents for what lay ahead. I figured we’d all be dead.”
Reggie stirred the fire watching the sparks dance around like fire flies. When he spoke there was an uncertainty in his voice. “It may not be over.”
Jonathan looked up at his friend with a somewhat puzzled look.
“I don’t get it, you were there. It was tough, and it was bloody, but we did our job. The world went in and started the rebuilding process; they’re living better now than they ever were. You really think they want to go back to the way it was, that hell on earth we put them through; do you think they want to go through that all over again?”
Reggie’s gaze shifted from the fire to his friend. There was a look on his face Jonathan had never seen. It wasn’t fear, and it wasn’t anger, it was more of an uneasiness than anything else, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. In all the time the two had been together, this was a first. Reggie’s gaze shifted back to the fire, and then to the sky. The two sat in silence while they watched a distant thunder storm, and listened to the constant rolling of thunder.
Reggie’s voice broke the silence, “Granny called it the Melodies of Eventide. She even wrote a poem using that as the title.” He paused for a moment, and then continued. “Do you remember Shelly?”
Jonathan laughed, “You mean the pretty little redhead we ran into outside Jacks?”
“That’s the one.”
Jonathan looked at Reggie, his eyes full of mischief. “She kinda slowed you down, didn’t she? She make you get rid of your World Book of Names, Numbers, and Romance?”
Reggie looked at his friend and smiled, “She’s different, I can’t explain it, but she is.” He paused and looked back at the fire, he stirred it and watched the flames lick hungrily at the remnants of wood, and then he continued. “Do you know what we would do?”
Jonathan snickered, and then leaned over, “No, tell me, and don’t leave out the good stuff.
Reggie stared into the fire, “It’s not what you think. We would sit around and she would read to me. I liked her so much, I’d sit and listen. I don’t remember the book, but she would read from it, then she’d tell me what it meant. She said there’s going to be a war, not just any war, but a war between good and evil.
“Isn’t that what we just had, and the good guys won?”
“I don’t know, Jonnie; we clobbered them, but …”
“But what?”
“Have you ever read the Koran?”
“I can’t say that I have, you getting religious on me and changing from one of us to one of them?”
Reggie looked at his friend, the mischievous look still there, that crooked grin plastered all over his face, he couldn’t remember a time when it wasn’t there.
“No, I can’t say that I’ve ever believed in god, with all that’s gone on. My Granny did, right up to the time she died. The Muslims believe in god and look where it’s gotten them, yet they still pray and believe. The thing that bothers me is in the Koran it teaches that they should kill the infidel, that’s you and me. I can’t help but wonder if they aren’t planning something else. I don’t mean all of them, but there are a lot of them out there we supposedly re-educated, then turned loose. Kind a like the programs they had for helping child molesters, it didn’t work. How many Islamic Fundamentalists do we have out there teaching rebellion and revolt in secrecy, just waiting for the perfect time to strike back? You and me, we’ve lived our whole lives on the edge, we face death every day and thumb our nose at it, we live our lives for that rush of adrenaline. You and I both know the intoxication of an adrenaline rush and how it beats anything chemically induced, but then there are people like Shelly, they go their whole lives never experiencing any of life’s adventures and thrills we do, and yet she’s totally happy. She says, ‘Give me a good husband, a nice house in a safe neighborhood, lots of kids, and I’m happy.’
“Sounds awful boring to me, but most of the country lives like that. Those are the people I worry about if something should happen. You and I, well, we can take care of ourselves, but …” he paused for a moment, and then continued. “She doesn’t even worry about dying. She says she knows where she’s going.”
Reggie stirred the fire and added a couple of logs, “You ever wonder what happens to a person when they die?”
Jonathan hauled himself to a sitting position, “My mom use to drag me to a little church every Sunday; she and my dad were pretty religious. They sang in the choir, taught little kids about god, and did what ever needed to be done. Mom use to tell me stories about god, and how he would send his angels down to protect us, she would laugh and tell me my guardian angels had to work in shifts because one couldn’t handle the job. I never thought too much about death until my parents were killed.”
He lifted his head and scanned the sky. “We …”
The words caught in his throat; once again he tried to speak, only to find the lump had grown to the size of the one in his stomach. There were no tears, just emptiness in his soul, and a heart that burned with anger. Lifting his water bottle, he let the cool liquid soothe his parched throat. The memories of their death not only wreaked havoc with his mind, but his body as well, making his insides feel like they had been exposed to a harsh and sere land where few could survive
“We went to church early that morning so the choir could practice. As usual, my parents were there early, trying to get everything ready for the program. I had just come back from the prop room with a mattress they were going to use when someone threw a bomb through the window; it landed at my dad’s feet. The explosion took out most of the platform, everything else was kindling. The force of the explosion threw me into the balcony. When I regained consciousness, I could hear my mother screaming. I don’t know how, with all the fire and smoke, but I found her. When the explosion took out the platform, everything that was on it went into the basement, including my mother. What wasn’t broken was burned. My father took the brunt of the explosion, so I don’t think he ever knew what happened. All I could hear was my mother crying for my father and singing that stupid choir song as they carried her to the ambulance. In the hospital I would hold her hand and cry, and beg god to save my momma, she was all I had left. But mama died a week later. At the funeral the preacher said it was god’s will, and that she and my daddy were in a much better place. The preacher would try and talk to me, but he could never answer the one question I had for him. I’d ask him, if god is so great, why he allowed my parents to die, and leave me behind. All he could do was shake his head. I guess I never had much use for god after that. So, to answer your question, I don’t know, and I really don’t care. I think once your dead, your dead.”
“You don’t ever wish that your parents were alive somewhere enjoying their next life, and waiting for you to join them?”
“Oh come on, Reggie, it doesn’t do any good to wish for something that’s impossible. If god were real, you and I wouldn’t be blowing people to bits; we’d be out in space exploring. If god were real, there wouldn’t be all these different religions, each trying to prove the other one wrong. Can you imagine a god sending people to hell, just because they never heard about him? The church my parents went to believed that if you never heard about God, and then died, you went to Hell. I want no part of a religion, or a god, where you don’t even have a choice. You tell me who’s right, Muslims, Christians, Jews, or Hindu’s? Stick what ever religion you want in there; each one has their own god, or gods.”
He paused to catch his breath, and then continued. “I’ll tell you what I think, in the end if there is a god, and after everyone is dead, which ever god you believed in, and wherever that god lives, that’s where you’ll go. Then the gods will have a war to see who is the toughest, and you know who’ll fight that war don’t you, it sure won’t be them. Since everyone is dead, you can’t die, so the war will rage on forever. Can you imagine fighting a war that never ends? Maybe that’s what hell is all about, anyway, it sure sounds like hell to me. I don’t know Reggie, if you ever find the answers let me know, it gives me a headache just thinking about it.”
The firelight cast eerie shadows on the walls of their tent, reminding them of how the planes canopies reflected the fires of
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Chapter Two: Eagle One
(Saturday September 11, 2021)
We have lift off! President Nelson watched the launch of NASA’s newest shuttle, Eagle One.
“That was perfect, wasn’t it sir?” his Chief of Staff remarked.
“The best I’ve seen in a long time. The new shuttle series ought to serve NASA for years to come.”
“They better, if I remember right the price tag on those machines were about two billion dollars apiece.”
“Oh, come on Bill, they’re worth every penny. With the research that’s being done on Freedom, we couldn’t afford not to. The expenditures alone for maintenance and launch for the old fleet were atrocious, not to mention replacing one. Do you realize that the cost of one launch and recovery was about twenty five percent of what the Eagle Series is costing us to build?”
“You’re preaching to the choir, sir, or should I say, it sounds like you’re campaigning.”
“Old habits die hard, besides,
The President turned his attention back to the television, and the coverage of the launch.
“
“Roger Eagle One, you show down range of one hundred twenty miles, all manifold valves at fifty percent?”
“Roger Houston, all valves at fifty percent, manifold pressure at ten thousand pounds.”
“Roger Eagle One, clear for full throttle.”
“Roger Houston, full throttle.”
“Bill, did you know they’re working on a light drive engine?
“Yes sir, my understanding is that in about ten years they may have a prototype.”
“It’s remarkable the research they’re doing. The driving force behind a lot of the theory and design is a young hotshot pilot that has his Doctorate in Physics and Electrical Engineering. He graduated from the Air force Academy with a perfect GPA and they say he’s one of the brightest minds to come out of MIT in a long time. According to the folk’s at NASA he’s the one that’s driving the project, when he’s not out flying.
The President turned back to the coverage, “By the way, where’s our press secretary, isn’t he suppose to be watching this shindig with me?”
“He is, I mean he was.” Bill shook his head, “What I meant was he was until Director Hanley cornered him.”
“What’s the CIA’s interest in the launch, they have something on board?
There was no answer. President Nelson turned to see his Chief of Staff, CIA Director, and his National Security Adviser huddled in the far corner of the room.
“Uh, excuse me, is that a private conversation ya’ll are having, or can anybody join. I hate it when the staff keeps secrets from me.” With that the president chuckled and turned his attention back to CNN, and the launch.
“Mr. President,”
President Nelson turned; the look on Director Hanley’s face erased all doubt.
“What kind of a problem do we have?”
“It’s not good sir, and I don’t think we have much time.”
“OK, let’s have it, what’s the problem?”
“Yes Sir, you want the nutshell version or the whole ball of wax?”
“From the beginning, and don‘t leave anything out. By the way, where is my press secretary?”
“He’s preparing a statement. As you’re aware sir, fifteen years ago, under President Bush we launched a part of the Star Wars initiative called Morning Star. The sole purposes of these satellites were to monitor all electronic information. Ground based channels were routed through a Central Communications Networking Processor, all cell phone and electronic communications were passed on from their respective towers to a local High Speed Data Link, and all other communications that bypassed these filters were picked up by the satellite network. The data from the satellites, the CCNP, and the HSDL were received by a bank of super computers which compared the groupings to a set of parameters. If the data wasn’t flagged, it was sent on to its destination. If for any reason a flag was generated, the data was sent, but further analysis was performed. About sixty percent of all data goes through without a problem. Another thirty percent after being analyzed is also sent along without a problem. It’s the ten percent that we look at very carefully. So far, all the data we’re talking about is what we call legitimate. Then there are signals from space which are mostly noise to us, so they are sent on to receiving stations like
“Then we have what we call unlicensed transmissions. These usually fall under the category of drug dealers, white collar criminals, Mafia, terrorists, and the usual hackers trying to hide by short coded bursts that are hard to triangulate on, or interpret. When a computer receives any signal, it checks for a serial number. Every electronic device includes that with each transmission. When the computer does not receive the electronic signature it does several things; first it sets a yellow flag, if the signal is too short to triangulate on, or interpret, it changes the yellow flag to an orange flag and sends the file to the data bank it’s linked with, if the signal is not seen again for thirty days it changes the orange flag to a white flag and sends it to a history file. Every sixty days all stored files are run through a comparator, if no matches are found, they are sent back to the history file. If a match is found in less than thirty days, or matches are found in the history file, then all corresponding files that match the electronic signature are flagged red, and sent to the FBI, CIA, and Homeland Security for further analysis. When a certain unlicensed electronic signature is picked up more than three times in a week, we have a group of satellites whose sole purpose is to focus on these transmissions, and locate them.”
“Three years ago we started picking up unlicensed signatures. They were very short, most were only milliseconds in length. The bursts were sent at random
Intervals for a period of twenty-four hours, and then went silent for up to a month. Two months ago we located the source, and we figured out how they were doing it. Two weeks ago we managed to break the code. The Al-Qaeda has a very sophisticated communications network, and a super top secret organization, their goal, to put this country and our allies out of business, for good. Now with all of that said, we come to the problem. One hour ago we intercepted a coded message. Translated, it simply said,
“Is the Eagle ready to fly and destroy freedom?”
The reply came back twenty seconds later, “Two hours.”
“Mr. President, do you know where the reply came from?”
“From the look on your face I’d have to say NASA.”
“No sir, from Eagle One!” Bill paused as he held his earpiece with his left hand, his face paled as he listened to the briefing.
“Sir, one of the astronauts on board is a suicide bomber, but that’s not the only problem, intelligence thinks they may be after the prototype laser. They get their hand on that, they can do irreparable damage; Sir, we now have only forty-five minutes till docking takes place. The plan is to take control of the space station; if that fails he’s to take out the shuttle and the space station as well!”
President Nelson turned his chair so as to see out the window.
“Call NASA and get Dan Richards, then call General Peterson. Where are those unlicensed signatures coming from?”
“There’s a mountain range that runs from Southern Turkey, through northeast
The president looked at his watch then shifted his gaze back to the television.
“Mr. President, we have Dan Richards on the line.”
“Put him on the speaker.” The president turned in his chair and continued looking out the window. “Dan, how you all doing down there?”
“Fine, mister President, were you able to watch the launch?”
“Yes, it went flawlessly I thought. But that’s not why I called. Is there any way that you can take control of navigation, and pilot the Eagle from where you are?”
“Yes sir, we had that built in so if the crew were disabled the Eagle could be brought back safely.”
“Dan, one more question. Is there any way that the crew could be disabled from your end?”
“No sir, but why would we want to do that?”
“How long before docking is to take place?”
“Well, they’re to make one more orbit, which will bring them into position for docking. So, about thirty minutes,”
“Can you tie this office into the comm link so I can talk to Eagle One?”
“That’s not a problem sir, but why all the mysterious questions?”
“This goes no further, do you understand, at least not for now.”
“Yes sir.”
“We have reason to believe that one of the astronauts is planning to blow the space station. I need for you to buy me some time. Take over navigation, and give them a logical excuse for doing so. Tie me in to communications so I can talk to them, I may have a bargaining chip or two. Maybe we can convince whoever not to carry out their plan …”
“Yes sir, it shouldn’t take more than five minutes!”
‘That’s fine; let me know when you’re ready …” A clearing of the voice and four fingers being held up by his chief of staff signaled General Peterson was on the line.
“Do what you can, and keep me informed.” The president switched lines and General Petersons’ voice could be heard over the sounds of aircraft taking off. “General Peterson, how long will it take to get your bombers in the air and to prepare a surface to air strike?”
“The missiles are ready whenever you are, as for the aircraft we have them in the air at all times, matter-of-fact I have some taking off now, why do you ask?
President Nelson was explaining the situation when CNN broke in.
“We‘re switching from the launch to mission control where Jim Peterson is standing by, Jim, what seems to be the problem?”
“I’m not really sure; but there’s been a lot of activity in the last five minutes that has gone unexplained, I think an issue with the safety of the crew seems to be at the core of all the extra activity. Hold on, Dan Richards has just entered mission control, lets listen in.”
“Eagle One, this is
“Roger Houston, I’ll notify the crew.”
The president and his staff waited anxiously; the silence was deafening, then Director Hanley spoke up, “Sir, Morning Star just picked up a transmission from Eagle One! Translation coming through,”
“NASA scrubbing mission, requesting instructions …”
“There’s a Transmission coming from the ground now,” He paused, “The translation is coming in sir … it says,”
“Can you ram space station?”
“Transmission from Eagle One, no,
There was silence for sometime between mission control and Eagle One as preparations were made for re-entry, then, “Uh,
“Doctor, this is President Nelson. I’ve been monitoring the launch and asked NASA to tie me in so I could congratulate you all on a job well done. We have been monitoring your conversations as well. Before you do anything rash, we have bombers ready to strike. We’ll level the place.”
There was a long pause. “Mr. President, do you expect me to believe that?”
“Doctor, I have missals aimed at a position at nine thousand feet between Dahuk and Arbil at thirty five degrees North Latitude, and forty seven degrees East Longitude. I also have bombers in route; they should be there in less than an hour.”
“That’s one for your side, but they are well dug in, bombs cannot hurt them.”
“Doctor, have you heard of the bunker busters? We have a new one that drills deep before it explodes. As you’re aware, we also have a prototype laser in space. It was designed and built for scientific purposes, but the military says that it can also be used as a weapon. We can focus the beam on the laser, and with pin point accuracy burn a hole six feet in diameter right through the top of that mountain. I’m told the laser produces a beam that’s hotter than the sun; your associates would be destroyed in a matter of seconds. Give it up, Doctor, we know what you’re planning to do, the only thing you’re going to destroy is a few billion dollars of equipment, and of course ruin the lives of seven families.”
“What do you think you did when you destroyed the camps in
Dan broke in, “Sir, if you can keep him talking for just a few more minutes—”
“Doctor, you know we had no choice in that matter. It was either destroy the camps where the biological weapons were located, or allow them to kill millions. As for the destruction of those cities, you know as well as I do what we were after. This is different Doctor, we are about to destroy a whole mountain full of people if you go through with your plan. I’m told there are also villages surrounding that mountain. A lot of people are going to die, your people. Give me a chance to talk to them. Maybe we can work something out.
Again there was a long pause. “Sir, transmission from Eagle, translation …
“Mr. President, inform the American people that today we destroyed seven astronauts, tomorrow we will destroy you. Praise be to Allah, I go to be with him.”
The explosion in space was picked up by radio telescopes around the world. Satellite pictures showed where there was once a mighty mountain peak, now just an enormous crater could be seen, a graveyard for some, and a monument of martyrdom for others.
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Chapter Three: Jack Rashad
(Monday June 22, 2022)
Professor Rashad sat with his back to the wall, stacked around him were the remains of an ancient culture. The
Julie Flynn, a graduate student was seated at a large oak desk pouring over Arial photographs of the site. “It sure pays off to do the research first, doesn’t it?”
“Jack looked up, “That’s what I have tried to teach in all my classes. You can be the world’s best archeologist, but if you don’t know where to dig, you’re not worth much. It took nearly five years of research for this dig, but look how it paid off.
Julie stretched and cracked her knuckles, only three more months till graduation.” She paused, and then asked, “What’s next on your agenda?”
“Well, it’s going to takes years to catalog all of this. The Peruvian government is sending help in the form of money so we’ll be able to expand our staff, but the research alone will probably extend beyond my lifetime. There is such a wealth of information here, I’m not sure.”
Julie sat quiet for a time, and then asked. “Have you been keeping up with the bombing of the mountain in
“Yea, it was terrible, wasn’t it?”
“Yes sir it was, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Have you seen any of the footage of the devastation?”
“I saw some.”
“Did you look at it real close?”
Jack looked up and then laid the artifact he had been studying aside. He knew his protégé like a well worn book, that many questions and the fact her voice had gone up an octave let him know she was excited about something. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“There was a lot of footage taken of the area after the mountain was destroyed, this one piece of footage showed up quite a bit on the news because of the angle of the shot.” Julie placed a disk in the player and Jack watched the short clip. Half way through she paused the player.
“If you look at it carefully it shows a mountain with an unusual outcropping about ten miles away from ground zero, to me it just didn’t look natural.”
Jack took the remote control and played the clip several times and then nodded, “Your right that slide doesn’t look natural, the sides are to smooth and the color is all wrong.
“I called a friend who works at the Federal Mapping Commission, they make Arial maps for commercial use, and I asked him if he could get me a close up of the site. There was nothing secure about the area anymore so he got me a copy. I took it to a photographer friend of mine who blew it up and made an overhead, and for a little extra also saved it to a disk. What I want you to look at is the collapse under the outcropping.”
Jack took the overhead from Julie and placed it in the projector.
“Nothing like twentieth century technology in a twenty-first century society, is there?”
And then with a grin he turned out the lights, and turned the projector on, the screen lit up with the view of a partially destroyed mountain. “The blast must have been a powerful one to do something like that so far away,” Jack said.
The experienced eyes of the archeologist scanned the picture for a moment. Julie watched as he scanned the overhead.
“All I see …”
There was a long pause, his eyes narrowed as he looked closer. When he spoke, it sounded almost reverent.
“Those walls are man made! But that’s impossible, their under almost a mile of granite, do you know what this could be?”
“No sir, but I figured you might.”
“I’ve studied this area of the world my entire life. The area around the Tigris Euphrates valley was the cradle of civilization. The oldest known settlement was developed in Erech about 4000 B.C. If that is man made, it’s a lot older than anything we’ve found in this area so far.”
Jack paused for a moment, “We have some partials of an ancient scroll discovered in the vicinity of Erech several years ago in the vault, and if I remember right they had some unusual symbols that made mention of a city, at least that’s what was determined by Doctor Green.”
The two left the work room and headed out the door to a small elevator at the end of the hall, taking it down to the last level they emerged from the elevator and into a dimly lit hallway, at the end was a large steel door. The hermetically sealed vault had been built by the university for the Storage of fragile documents in the latter part of the twentieth century; after the earthquake a much larger facility had been built to hold the large collection the university had in its possession for study. Most of the larger finds were now being kept there, but the smaller pieces and those that required the tightly controlled environments in which they were found were still kept in the older vault.
“They don’t make these like they used to.” Jack entered a code and the two could hear the suctioning of air as the door opened. They entered the outer chamber and Jack entered another code, silently the outer door closed and then they waited on the pressure to stabilize and the air to moisture ratio to balance itself out; once all parameters were met the second door unlocked and they entered the storage area. The vault measured almost fifty feet wide by a hundred feet long; with a twenty foot ceiling it provided the university with a secure place to store priceless artifacts. The walls were lined with glass cases, Jack paused for a moment and then went down one of the isles to a small glass case, removing a key from his pocket he opened it. Inside lay numerous scrolls and pieces of parchment; carefully he removed the tray they were sitting on and placed it on a work table in the middle of the room.
“This is what I was talking about. This parchment was written about six thousand years ago, and according to Dr. Green describes a city lost in the clouds of time.”
“Take a look, this symbol indicates a city, and this one indicates the sky. Now look at the next one, it shows the cloud covering the city, and the next symbol represents what we call infinity. Now if you look at this parchment which came from a different dig, but in the same area, it also uses the symbol of infinity, but look what follows. That symbol was used for time, except when followed by a man, and then it became the symbol of the beginning of life. Now for the third piece and there isn’t much, but look at the symbol of the man, it doesn’t have the infinity mark next to him but the symbol that looks like a snake, so we can figure that meant death. Now, look at the first parchment again and tell me what you see.”
Julie moved the light so as to get a better look at it. Pulling out a magnifying glass she studied the document.
“There seems to be a water mark, but if you look close, it looks like the symbol for the city has the mark of the snake in it, but what is the symbol above the cloud symbol?”
Julie looked at Jack, “Well?”
Jack smiled, “Think back to your early days when you first got started, what was the first symbol you leaned to recognize?”
Julie looked at him quizzically, “That’s not a …” She turned and gave it a second look. “I guess it could be if it was ancient Hebrew or one of the other tribes that roamed the area back then.”
Jack nodded, “That’s how I have it figured. After studying Dr. Green’s analysis, and after a whole lot of thought, this is how I translate it. A city lost in time because of the death of a man in ancient times, hidden by a cloud and covered by a mountain.”
Julie leaned back over the work table and continued her study of the parchment, “Was that an exact interpretation, or was that one of those Jack Rashad good guesses?”
“Probably a little bit of both. There really isn’t enough data from that era for us to know exactly what they were writing about. However if you take all the data that you have, I think we can make some pretty good guesses. There is some evidents from those early writings that something catastrophic happened, which could explain that photograph of yours. At any rate, we’re going to find out, or at least die trying.”
Jack sat down at the work table and picked up the phone, dialed a number, and then waited. “Nothing like having an old timie phone to match the vault it’s in, oh hello Charlie, this is Jack. Listen, I know we just got back from
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(Two weeks later)
Jack entered the office of Professor Scott Thelmud, President of USC.
Professor Thelmud had spent his entire life in academia. Degrees and citations covered the walls of his office. In his early years, Scott had been an avid mountain climber, but a fall and exposure to the elements had cost him a leg. Later, a victim of MS, Scott was now confined to a wheel chair. One would have thought that after such a tragedy and limited mobility Scott would have resigned himself to his limitations. Not Scott, Jack was constantly amazed by the accomplishments of a man society labeled handicapped.
There on the walls were pictures of Scott and the wheelchair basketball team he coached and played to a national championship, his membership in the Rock Climbing Club of America, and an article of his cross country jaunt in a wheel chair to raise money for the Spinal Foundation. In the center of all his accomplishments was a picture of the man who inspired him after his accident. Stephan Hawkins, a man totally disabled by a neurological disorder, yet a major contributor to the scientific community.
“Hey Jack, what brings you out of the catacombs to the ivory halls of learning?”
During the earthquake of two thousand and ten portions of USC were destroyed. When reconstruction started, they found that a portion of the university was built on ancient burial grounds. Jack and the archeology department oversaw the excavation of the site, and the recovery of the artifacts. Since the site contained a vast number of underground caverns, the university built around the site, with a dome covering the excavation. This gave the archeology department a perfect place to teach, and gave students first hand experience in the art of excavation and recovery. After a comment made by then Professor Thelmud, it affectionately became known as the catacombs of Jack Rashad.
Jack turned to see his friend wheeling through the door, a sweat band around his head, and a towel over his shoulder. His face was wet with perspiration; the baggy sweat shirt he wore could not hide the large flexor muscles in his upper arms, or the pectoral muscles in his chest.
“You trying to insinuate my students don’t learn?”
Scott laughed, “They learn OK, just not on campus.”
Jack smiled, “The digs give them hands on experience, besides, they’re not stuck in a traditional classroom, they’re out in the fresh air, which brings me to why I’m here.”
Scott looked up in surprise, “You just got back.”
Jack grabbed the handles of Scott’s wheelchair and started to push, “Where we going?”
“I’ve got something I want you to see.” They moved out of Scott’s office and headed for the catacombs.
“You know, one of the advantages of being handicapped is people giving you free rides.”
“You forget, I’ve seen you on the court, you’re about as handicapped as I am. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could make this chair move faster than I can.”
“So, what’s so important that couldn’t have waited until after my shower?”
“You’ll see.” Jacked wheeled him into his office where the projector was set up and waiting. Turning off the lights and turning on the projector, he asked. “See anything unusual?”
Scott looked at the screen, “I see a mountain that’s been blown to bits,” there was a long pause, “you know if I didn’t know better I’d swear that mountain looks like the ones I climb in the gym. Is this some sort of joke?
Now take a look at this overhead, it’s an enlargement of a portion of what you saw in the first picture.”
Scott stared at the overhead for what seemed an eternity, turning his chair he looked at Jack, “Those walls are man made, how old are we talking about?”
Jack removed a file from his desk and pulled out a spectrograph. “I’m not a geologist, so any questions I have, I call my brother. He’s the head geologist for Exxon-Mobil, and it’s his job to find oil. For the last few years he’s been doing a lot of work in the Mid East. So, last week I called him. I e-mailed him the picture and the video of the mountain, and asked him the same question. He e-mailed this back to me. It’s a colored spectrograph of the Zagros mountain range. Exxon Mobil owns several mapping satellites, fortunately for us he didn’t have to move it a whole lot. The color at the base of the range is our starting point for dating the age of the mountain, the higher the elevation the lighter the color. The theory behind this dating process goes something like this. This mountain range was formed by volcanic activity, since the top of the mountain was formed last, and subsequent eruptions increase the height of these mountains, the base of the mountains will be darker in color and become lighter as the elevation increases. This analysis is performed by dispersing electromagnetic radiation or sound waves into the mountain and photographing or mapping the spectrum. Now, this is the spectrograph of our mountain. Everything looks as it should, except those walls. They register pink and white. Pink is the age of the walls, white means its hollow. So, to answer your question, the age of those walls are older than the surrounding mountain range. Now, the big question is, how did those walls get under granite that registers twenty million years old? But, there’s even a bigger question, and that is, what are the walls made of? Nothing in the mountain registers pink except those walls. According to Sam, that’s my brother, there is nothing that measures pink in the parameters programmed into the spectrum.”
Scott wheeled his chair around, “So, we have to get there before anyone realizes what’s hidden there.
“I’ve already called Charlie, and he’ll help finance the expedition with the usual clause in the contract.”
“I know, that he gets to come along. Well, when you have as much money as he has,” Scott paused, then asked, “Jack, how do you plan on getting over there?”
“Do you remember Kalid Mamood?”
“Yea, wasn’t he the guy that was with you on the Egyptian dig?”
“That’s him. He is now the curator of
“Have you spoken to Kalid?”
“Right before I came down to your office, I called and got him out of bed. There was enough excitement in my voice to make him curious, and just enough greed in that little money grubber’s heart for him to accept my explanation that the fewer people who knew what we were up to, the better. I didn’t tell him where or what we were after, I just told him it was in
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(One week after his conversation with Scott)
Time was of the essence, while Scott and Charlie were working with what Jack called loose ends, Jack was on his way to
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“Professor Rashad my friend, how are you?”
“Just Fine!”
Jack shook hands, and exchanged the normal mid-east custom of a kiss on the cheek.”
“
Kalid laughed, “That is because in
As Jack and Kalid exited the airport, the sweltering heat of the hot afternoon sun enveloped Jack with an intensity he had almost forgotten. To make matters worse, the sun’s reflection off the concrete and steel construction, and the congestion of traffic only contributed to the suffocating affect of the desert sun.
“I had forgotten just how hot it gets.” Jack said as a car pulled up. After a short wait, Jack, Kalid, and the museum driver were weaving there way through the congested afternoon traffic. Jack watched in total amazement as the driver dodged and weaved, blowing his horn and using hand signals he was sure didn’t mean have a nice day. The driver suddenly swerved down a narrow street all the while cursing and screaming at the many pedestrians, and motor bikes. Suddenly, and without warning he locked his brakes and cut the wheel sharply. The tires screamed in agony as the car slid sideways into oncoming traffic. The engine came to life with a massive roar as the driver accelerated, with the tires continuing to scream in defiance, the car hurdled over the uneven roadbed merging with the traffic. Traffic circles, winding streets, and the lack of stop signs didn’t seem to hamper the driver, he continued to accelerate when needed, and slid to a stop at each street crossing allowing those brave enough to navigate the city on foot to cross the intersection. He picked his way through the crowded streets, miraculously reaching their destination without an accident.
Jack leaned forward, “You take your drivers ed. at the Indy 500?”
The driver turned and smiled, “Drive like American?”
Jack patted his shoulder, “Classic freeway driving, you’d fit right in.” A chill ran down Jacks spine as he tried picturing this guy in LA. “I don’t think even the Chips could catch this guy,” he thought.
The National Archives was located in an upper class business district twenty miles north of the airport. Gone were the narrow streets, mud brick buildings, and motor bikes. Marble and glass were the building supplies of this area, wide streets lined with Mercedes and Jaguars were the transportation of the day. Jack was escorted into a luxurious office where exotic animal skin rugs lined the floor, and trophies from every continent were displayed on the walls. The office was paneled in teak wood, and the furniture, made from the finest woods trimmed in ivory had been positioned at strategic places around the room, it was obvious he was in the presence of wealth.
“Good day to you Professor Rashad, I hope you had a pleasant trip.”
Jack turned to see a well dressed man standing at a bar in the far corner of the room.
“Yes sir I did. I had forgotten just how hot it gets here.”
The man laughed, “Forgive me, I was not laughing at you, I was born here, and I say the very same thing every time I come to
“Yes sir, a cold glass of water would sure hit the spot.”
“Melanie, one glass of ice water for our guest, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Bhaskar Yalmam Kamood. I represent the Iraq Ministry of Antiquities. When Kalid called Mohammed Ben Ali, Mohammed called me, I in turn called Kalid, so that you and I might talk. I read the piece in the paper about the new dig at Tell Asmar and Khafaje and knew that was nothing more than a cover story. I also know that when Jack Rashad goes to all the trouble to hide what he is doing, something is up. I have followed your work for a number of years, and this much I know, where Jack digs, treasures are found. So, you want to dig in my country, is that not true?”
Jack drained the glass, set it on the table, and then took a long look at his host. In this part of the world one had to be careful. This could be a scam set up by Kalid, or a takeover by one of Kalid operators. Better yet, it could be a government takeover of the expedition; in any case, before divulging any information, he was going to get some.
“I do appreciate your hospitality and your honesty with me. But before I can share any information, I must have your co-operation.”
“Spoken like a true professional. What would you like?”
“Two things, first I need to make a phone call, and second, I have the usual contracts that need to be signed”
Bhaskar spoke up, “Melanie, take mister Rashad into the corner office, there you will find a phone, and paper if you need it.”
“Oh that’s OK, I have my own phone.” With out another word Jack pulled out his phone and dialed. Having been through situations like this in the past, he and Scott had set up a code using both phone numbers and conversational language. If Bhaskar was who he said he was, everything was cool, if not, he would soon know who he was.
The phone rang twice, and then Scott picked up.
“Hello, Scott here, who do I have the pleasure of talking to?”___( Is everything OK)
“Hey Scott, its Jack, are the airlines co-operating with the arrangements I’ve made?” ____(Don’t know, need information)
“For the most part they are, everything is still on schedule if that helps.” ____(Computer is on)
“That’s great; it sure takes some of the pressure off this end. The trip was long and tedious, but going well, although I forgot just hot it gets here. The reason I called, I need for you to do me a favor.” ___(Get ready for code)
“All you have to do is ask.” ____(ready)
“Just before Julie checks out of her hotel in
“I’ll Check, anything else?” ____(Are you ok?)
“Yea, when I left, (click) you and Larry, Mike and Melinda (click) were discussing last minute budget changes, I’d kinda like to know how they were going to affect my department.” ____(YALMAM)
“Everything we discussed has little or no effect on your budget for next year, anything else.”
“Yea, there is one more thing, the budget meetings we had with (click) Kim Anderson (click) She was not in a very good (click, click) mood when she left, I can’t afford to lose another good assistant. I hope at the last budget meeting you took care of her concerns?”___(KAMOOD)
“No, but we will.” ___(Hang tight information coming in)
“Hey, I appreciate all the help I can get, are all the loose ends being taken care of?” ___(Hurry)
“Yea, and I just received an e-mail from her, she’ll have the team ready by the time you get back, and she says your horse won, but he pulled up lame at the end, so I wouldn‘t put any more money on him” _____(Your contact checks out ok, but he’s dangerous)
“Hey, that’s great, see you soon.” Jack breathed a sigh of relief, now he could get down to business.
Jack turned to face his host “Sometimes I bet on the horses and sometimes I even win, mostly I lose. I got lucky this time. He placed in all three; I actually made money this time.”
Bhaskar smiled, “I bet on the horses, unfortunately like you, I lose more than I win. You seemed a little concerned, was there a problem?”
Jack laughed, “Not anymore, my bookie and I are even, had I lost, I may have had to make
Kalid doubled over with laughter, “You, my friend, are welcome in my home anytime. My wife and fifteen children would make you feel most welcome. Especially my daughter Meheshaly, she would welcome you with open arms.”
Jack smiled, “Isn’t she the one that followed us around the last time I was here?”
“Yes, but she is a women now, you would make a fine son-in-law!
“Yea, but not a good Muslim.”
With that comment the whole room broke out in laughter, Kalid mockingly bowed,
“Touché my friend, but just remember, the eyes of a women will make a fool of a man, and in the heat of passion, a man will do most anything.”
Kalid raised his head, his dark eyes flashing. “Meheshaly has her degree in archeology; she will be going with us.”
Kalid smiled and took a seat, “Shall we get down to business?”
Bhaskar raised his glass, “I agree whole heartedly, all for one and one for all. Like the Three Musketeers. May Allah let his face shine on us, and provide fame and fortune.”
Jack laid his briefcase on the table and then proceeded to set up the projector. Kalid’s pager had gone off, so he was busy with a conference call on how much something cost to be shipped from
Bhaskar sat down next to Jack, “Did I check out OK?”
Jack turned to face his host, “I don’t understand, what do you mean check out?”
Bhaskar smiled, “Don’t be alarmed, I would have thought much less of you had you not taken certain precautions, and had your friend check on me. You see this,” He tapped his ear. For the first time Jack noticed what looked much like a miniature hearing aide.
“I do a lot of business with a lot of good people, but sometimes good people try to,” he paused, “there is no nice way to say it. They try to cheat. Your code was perfect, but two things gave you away. First, this little device picked up the clicks of your phone. I must say you are very good at improvising, it must have been very difficult making my name fit into casual conversation so quickly.” He looked at Jack and smiled, “But second, and more important, I have followed your career for years. As a business man I make sure I have as much of an edge as possible when I go into a venture. So, I made it my business to learn about you.”
With that he reached into a brief case and pulled out a file.
“Care to read about yourself? You do not bet on the horses, to be honest, you have very few vices, and gambling is certainly not one of them.
Jack leaned back in his chair, “I don’t know what to say. This project came up so quickly, I didn’t have the time to do my research properly.”
“You Americans have a phrase, I think it goes, you were flying by the seat of your pants, no?”
Jack smiled, “That’s putting it mildly.”
“When Mohammed called me, I knew something big was up. It was not your style to move so quickly. The last project you undertook was in
He paused, “But the satisfaction Kalid has with his job, I would like to have that experience just once.”
Kalid seemed to appear out of no where, “I hope I have not missed anything, I am so excited by the prospect of working with you again!”
“As a matter of fact, we were just killing time until you could join us.”
For the next three hours Jack proceeded step by step to fill the men in on all the details.
“And that’s about it. Until we can actually get on site and perform our initial survey, there’s not a whole lot more to say.”
Kalid was the first to speak. “I understand now why all the secrecy. Do you want to follow the same plan we disused earlier?”
Jack turned to Bhaskar, “It’s your country sir, and I know the military is in the region, but I have assurances from the state department they won’t be a problem.”
“My country will cooperate fully with you Jack, if it hadn’t been for that terrible tragedy, the secrets of the Zagros mountain range may have remained a secret for ever.”
Bhaskar became silent; when he spoke it was in a quiet, almost reverent tone of voice.
“Maybe Allah has some great secret he would like to share with the world.”
There was a hush that fell over the room, each man weighing Bhaskar’s words heavily. It was Bhaskar who broke the silence.
“I am flying to
Jack looked around, “I appreciate the offer, but I thought this was the office of the Egyptian Antiques.”
“Oh it is.” Kalid spoke, “Bhaskar and I share the building. Since we both hold the same positions in our respective countries, its only natural we have office space close to each other. Naturally Bhaskar’s office is more elaborate than mine because of his wealth.
“I think I have jet lag because a moment ago I could have sworn you said this was your office, then this is Bhaskar’s office?”
“No, this is mine.”
Kalid laughed, “I know what you’re thinking. This office is mine, but the decorations came from a nationally known poacher. The police caught up with him six months ago, and now he lives in a five by eight cell. I’m afraid his accommodations are somewhat less than what they use to be, a fit punishment for the crimes he committed. My government did not think it was right to destroy or sell all of this. So, since my office was so close to Bhaskar’s, and the decor was somewhat limited, they donated all that you see to help make up the difference.”
“Mmm, you didn’t have to grease anybody’s hands, did you?”
Kalid flashed a smile, but his black eyes were as cold as the steel he carried in his belt. A quick look at Bhaskar and Jack knew the assessment he had made of both men had been correct. They tolerated him only because of who he was, and the skill he possessed. Money and power were all that these men were interested in, and they would use any means at their disposal to accomplish their goal. He was their friend only because it suited them. For just a brief moment the men had let their true feeling show, however Kalid recovered quickly.
“Oh no my friend, it was nothing like that. It was…,” Jack could tell he was clearly on the defensive. For the first time since he had met Kalid, he was lacking for words.
Trying to de-fuse the situation, Jack spoke. “It was a joke. In my country when someone receives this much stuff, you ask them who they had to bribe to get it. It also lets the other person know how jealous you are.”
Jack could feel the tension ease; the smile reappeared on both men.
Kalid nodded, “I am sorry, western humor, I should have realized.” The smile was there, but it was the eyes that told the story. There was warmth in his voice, but an unholy hatred stared out at him, reminding him of a picture he had seen of Satan staring up into the heavens
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For the next sixteen months Jack spent most of his time in the air, shuttling between
On the other hand you had Bhaskar. He was from a wealthy oil family in
The attitude in LA was that of self indulgence, education, and money. Religion had become a thing of the past. There were still a few hard-core followers of the ancient religion of Christianity, but for the most part, that religion was a thing of the past. Too much intolerance and contradictory statements, but, then so was Islam.
Carl Marx had written that, “Religion was the opiate of the people.”
He had to agree, most of the old religious people had been uneducated. They needed something to fall back on in a time of trouble. With an education, and the right focus, religion was just a crutch of the past. So, his problem for the past sixteen months, how do you bring three cultures together in such a short period of time that have such diametric views to an archeological discovery that might surpass the pyramids. With a lot of help from the state department, the university, and a lot of backroom politics, Jack with the aide of Kalid, his daughter Meheshaly, and Bhaskar, a deal had finally seen the light of day, and a dig was approved. The university would finance the dig. That meant all salaries, food and equipment. If the dig was successful, then the Iraqi Antiquities would refund a portion of the cost. The university would be authorized to exhibit the collection for a specified time to re-coop the expenses of the dig. However, if they were to find holy objects, the site would become a worship center for Allah, and anything found must be left at the site. Also, no infidel would be allowed to enter the site after excavation, unless of course he was to convert to Islam.
Chapter Four: Ozan La Baugh
(Wednesday March 13, 2041)
Dr. Ozan La Baugh was an early riser. Having been raised in the country he had become accustomed to getting up with the birds. So every morning it was a regiment of diet, exercise, and meditation. This morning was no exception, except for the fact that he had received a frantic call from Drs. Olmar Zamudio and Yongxuan Yurchak at three thirty begging him to gather all the information he could from the files of the Arecibo Observatory on the discovery of the first extra solar planetary system.
In 1991, two scientists were observing radio pulses when they discovered the three planets. The extraordinary find became a major breakthrough in planetary sciences.
He had difficulty understanding the two men on a normal day, when they got excited it became almost impossible. Other than the language barrier, he couldn’t think of anyone he would rather have working with, and for him. The dedication and tenacity at which these two men approached their research made a director’s job a lot easier.
“Slow down, Yong,” he replied, when he could get a word in. “Now in English, and very slowly, explain to me what is so important, you couldn’t wait until the Teleconference this morning? Ozan listened intently, when the conversation concluded Ozan fixed another cup of coffee and went out unto the terrace, sitting down he allowed his mind to drift back to the beginning
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The Arecibo Observatory had been in operation for sixty-eight years. Built in 1963, the observatory would have become obsolete had it not been for the constant upgrades in technology, the observatory remained the largest curved focus Antenna on the planet. There was just one major problem; the telescope had to be shut down several days a week just to clear out the encroaching jungle. The assault from the jungle, and the constant bombardment of ever increasing electronic devices and communications equipment had made listening more difficult. Other observatories with the optical telescopes were experiencing similar problems with air pollution. The tropical heat and humidity also had an effect on the electronics and the twenty-six motors required for a smooth operation, not to mention the thirty miles of cable that held the large reflector suspended above the dish.
In the beginning, files had been kept on either magnetic tape or massive disc cartridges, if nothing of importance appeared the tapes and discs were re-cycled to prevent storage problems. In a climate like
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Dr. Gill Blahee sat at his desk going over the many reports that came in from around the country. Being the Director of the Public Institute of Scientific Research was a thankless job. The ever-burgeoning bureaucracy of government-funded research projects took the fun out of science. There was only so much money, and it was up to him and his staff to decide which projects should be funded, and those that would be sent back with the word denied stamped in red on the cover page. Most of the papers came in from graduate students trying to get their proverbial foot in the door, some came from crackpots looking for easy money, and some came from small research centers trying to get much needed money to continue their work. The government and private donors were generous, but there was a limit to the funding, and it was his job to stretch those dollars.
“Anything worth reading?”
Gill turned to see his assistant, Bill Gurney, leaning up against the door, coffee in one hand, and a donut in the other.
“Nope, most of what I’ve read is either old information, projects already in the pipeline, or the cost of their ideas would surpass that of the space program.”
Bill laughed and pulled out a chair.
“Last week while you were in
“Is he looking for a handout?”
“No, matter-of-fact Professor Engle Warts sent it to me, you ought to read it. This kid is way ahead of anything that’s being taught, and I ought to know, I taught physics for ten years at MIT. Not only does he have his theory down, but the math as well. Beats anything I’ve ever read.”
Bill pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket; “Listen to this, here is just a line from his thesis”
“The only Einstein ring currently discussed is the most prominent one that occurs at precisely when the observer, the lens, and the source alignment is where Delta phi = pi. Light emitted at a specific angle, and point of angle from the source would be slightly deflected by the gravitational alignment of the field. Angle(s)=Grav/SinB(GF)-Sin(GA”
Gill pushed his glasses up and let them rest on his forehead as he leaned forward in his chair. Nodding slowly, he picked up a calculator. For the next ten minutes Dr. Blahee punched up numbers and quickly made notations on a pad next to the phone.
“It all fits! He just might be …”Gill stopped in mid-sentence and looked at Bill, “I …” He paused to collect his thoughts. “How soon can we get this guy over here?”
“I thought you might be interested, I have his number. I called him last week and talked with him for quite a while. He’s from a family in
“Do you think he would be interested in coming to work here?”
“I think the kid was pinching himself the whole time I talked to him, He couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. When I spoke to him, I explained that you were out of town, but you would be back this week. He graduates in a couple of weeks, so I figured you might want to talk to him.”
“Why do you keep referring to him as a kid?”
“Because he is just a kid, he’s only twenty-two years old.
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Ozan looked into the night sky, “Someday I’ll be up there, and someday I’m going to know all your secrets.”
“Still talking to the stars?”
Ozan turned to see his dad, hands in his pockets, staring up into the night sky.
“I can’t say I blame you, they sure are pretty tonight.”
Ozan looked at his dad. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“After reading my thesis you still believe that a God created the universe?”
Paul looked at his son for a moment, and then looked back at the night sky.
“After all your education, you still can’t see the hand of God.”
Paul shook his head, and then turned to look at his son.
“I wasn’t always a preacher, and it’s not important what I was, but know this, had it not been for your mom who did believed in God, and me, I wouldn’t be here. Years ago I preached a sermon on the existence of God; I’ll share with you a part of what I shared with them. You asked me if I still believed. In my own research to explain why I believed, I found I not only had to understand why I believed, but what and whom I believed in. I found that when we deal with God, we are not dealing on a realm that we understand, but we are dealing from a realm of infinite. It is not that all is irrelevant, but that there is nothing that stands in a sense of significance against infinite. You cannot put the symbol of infinite in an equation and make any sense of the numbers in that equation. They are without significance because they are dealing with that which is infinite. When you are dealing with the infinite, one is the same, or as important as a trillion. That means you and I are not insignificant to God, but very important to him. If he can understand the numbers I just quoted to you, he can understand me. Infinite is not overwhelmed by the size of my problems, or the number of them. In my research I found that in a cubic mile of seawater there are fifty thousand species of life. Imagine fifty thousand species. Yet when we look at a drop of swamp water we again see a multitude of life.
“We live in a solar system on a planet called earth. We are in a galaxy called the Milky Way. In this galaxy there are approximately two hundred and fifty million stars. We are three point four light years from our closest neighbor star. We are three point four light years from the next closest sun. The next closest galaxy is Andromeda. It’s about one hundred thousand light years away, with about two hundred and fifty million stars. The farther we look out, the more galaxies we see, and the larger and denser they become. The guess is, there are between two hundred and two hundred and fifty billion galaxies with three million to five hundred million stars in each of them – and God called them by name and set them in place. Genesis one verse one says, ‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.’ You have always had a problem in believing in something you could not explain. So, I would ask you a question, remove all the planets, galaxies, and stars, and what do you have?”
“You have space, why?”
“Who or what created the space that all these galaxies reside in? You yourself said in your thesis that the universe is constantly expanding, then it makes sense that at one time the universe didn’t exist at all. If that is true, then when and where did the nothingness come from to bring space into existence, and where did the matter come from to start this theory you call evolution, and how is it that so many laws of motion and chemistry come to exist so that life, even the simplest of life could survive. You have degrees in Computer Science, Astronomy, and Mathematics. There are laws that you follow, but there are some things you have to except by faith, and they are called theories. Why is it you can except those, and cannot except the existence of God?
“Look son, I read your doctorial thesis, it is so far beyond my comprehension it staggers the mind, yet I don’t have to know all of what you wrote to understand how it was made. I believe it was spoken into existence, and when he spoke, all the laws requiring the universe to operate properly were also spoken into existence.
“I look up into the heavens and I marvel at the handiwork of God. I am so proud of you for understanding what God spoke into existence; I just pray that someday you will not only understand the creation but the creator as well.”
Ozan looked at his father and thought back to the first time he and his father had discussed creation, and the first time he had looked through a telescope and knew what his life calling was to be. A scientist dedicated to solving the mysteries of the universe. Unlike his father, a backwoods preacher who questioned nothing and believed God had created everything. Ozan had questioned everything and believed in nothing, except that which could be solved scientifically. The two men stood in total silence watching the night sky; only the sounds of the swamp could be heard.
It was Ozan who broke the silence.
“You know dad, if I were to believe, it would be because of mom. I’d give anything to believe she is still alive somewhere, but …”
Both men became silent once again. They had disagreed about almost everything, except a lady so dear to their hearts neither could bring themselves to speak of the pain her absence had brought.
Suddenly, it was as if some mysterious force took hold of both men as they stood looking at the night sky, turning in unison, they silently headed for the small cemetery that held the remains of the greatest influence in their lives.
It was often times said that in the bayous and byways of Frenchman’s swamp you could hear the cry of souls eternally condemned to a place of torment. Tonight was no exception; the low moans and shrieks filled the night as the two men approached the entrance of the cemetery. The swamp held many mysterious, and the origin of those sounds was just one of many. Ozan never liked coming here at night. He didn’t believe in ghosts or goblins, but between a person’s imagination and the stories the old timers would tell, they could turn your blood cold.
Ozan could feel the evil the old timers had talked about. There was a chill in the air, unusual for summer, and the cry of the lost seemed to fill the swamp tonight. It seemed that the same mysterious force that brought him to the cemetery now removed from him his ability to breath, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and a chill ran down his spine as he gazed into the cemetery. The moon was bright and the breeze blowing through the trees cast eerie shadows among the markers. But that was not what caught his attention. There seated on a marker was a hooded figure; in his hand was a Shepard’s crook. His heart raged within him, his throbbing temples and aching lungs screamed for the air they so desperately needed. His palms were sweating profusely, the drums he heard was actually the sound of his own heart, every bone and fiber of his being cried out in fear.
Always unwanted, but always ever so close, every hour of every minute of every day, that fathomless shadow, the shroud of mystery, the ancient darkness, the inert fear of the unknown that lurks in the shadows and recesses of the mind of man was sitting on his shoulder, reminding him of his mortality.
“How do you like it?”
The sound of his father’s voice seemed to shock his system back to reality, and the paralysis that had overtaken him, left as suddenly as it had appeared.
Ozan spun to face his father.
“Like what?” He asked, his voice in a pained and hushed whisper.
“The Good Shepard statue, the one your mom always liked, don’t you remember?”
Ozan let out a long sigh of relief; his body went limp as he sank to the ground, “Oh dad, you scared the life out of me! I thought that was real.”
XXXXX
Ozan sat in the outer office of the director; the message had been short, report to Dr Blahee’s office at your earliest convenience. With Dr. Blahee it had always been a phone call, or e-mail. Ozan pulled out the memo and looked at it again; official stationary of the PISR could only mean he was in trouble.
“Dr. La Baugh, Dr. Blahee will see you now.”
The receptionist smiled, and motioned for him, “Sign here please, oh, and don’t forget to return the visitor’s badge. We lose so many of those; security is starting to crack down. They think everybody is out to steal a telescope or something. Like there’s secret stuff here, or even anything of value, unless you consider the budgets worth taking, most of that you can get through the public information act. But then who am I, I’m just a receptionist, what do I know. You’re the doctor, what do you think? No don’t answer that, you better hurry; he’s waiting for you.”
Ozan tapped on the office door, “You wish to see me sir?”
“Good morning, Ozan, yes I do”
Dr. Blahee smiled, “I see you made it past Emily ok?”
“Emily sir?”
“My new receptionist, a very nice young lady, quite efficient, but quite talkative, by-the-way, how was you weekend?”
“It was fine, sir.”
Ozan glanced about the office nervously, “I got your message, why all the mystery?”
“Shut the door please, and sit down.”
Dr. Blahee picked up a stack of papers then looked at Ozan over his glasses.
“How long have you been working on the Gravitational Radiation Project?”
“About a year, why?”
“Have you heard of the Oxbow Project?”
“I remember reading something about it while I was in graduate school. There wasn’t a lot of information to be had, seems they ran into a dead end and shelved the project.”
“Well, there’s a lot more to it than that, but that’s the information that was leaked to the press.”
“Then there’s more to it than a dual star going super nova?”
“What I’m about to tell you is classified top secret, and does not leave this room. After the discovery in ninety-one there was a lot of interest in that section of space. The data that was saved took a number of years to catalog. It was only after the purchase of the General Digital A9000 that any attempt was made to decipher the information. When the computer was ready and the software was written, we attempted to load the data. To our dismay, the overload of information only crashed the system. Several re-loads were attempted, but failed. We then broke the data down even further. It was only after eleven re-loads, and further breakdowns of the information were we able to decipher a small amount of information. However, we were stunned at what we found. Although the computer had only been able to decipher a minuscule amount of the sum total of information sent to it, the information that was deciphered very closely resembled Sumerian and Babylonian Cuneiform. Mixed in with the recognized ancient writings were symbols and text the computer could not translate. All attempts to complete the translation failed. As complex and as fast as the A9000 was, it was no match for the information we were trying to analyze. In the end, the project was not shelved like everyone was told, but continued with funding from DSIRA. The information we gathered is stored in our main vault at
“So you want to discuss computer problems and bad software?”
Gill looked at his young protégé for a moment, and then smiled.
“When I read your thesis on Gravitational Physics and Astronomy, and found out that you also had degrees in Computer science, and mathematics, I knew you were the one person that might just be able to crack this nut. I’ve got the most sophisticated equipment in the world, and the enormous resources of General Digital’s software experts and Engineers, what I don’t have is the brains to put it all together. I need someone who not only understands what these machines can do, but someone who understands the enormous algorithms it will take to de-cipher all this data.
Dr. Blahee paused for a moment, then continued.
“As director of DSIRA you will have total control of the project, but you’ll still report to me. You’ll have a staff of two associate directors, five branch directors, and eleven operations managers. In total, you’ll have a staff of about five hundred and fifty people to organize in any way you see fit. It also comes with a budget of nine billion dollars. That is how focused we are in solving this problem. Your office, if you want the job, will be located at the Arecibo Observatory in
“Now, getting back to the Gravitational Radiation Project, I read their last report, in your opinion, how is it going?”
Ozan was speechless, a moment ago he was just one of many assigned to a project, and now he was being offered a directorship.
“You want me to head up the Oxbow project?”
“Not exactly, the Oxbow project will be just one of the projects you’ll oversee. There is also the GRP, which you’re familiar with, and the ULT project, which you’ve probably never heard of. There is also a collection of, how shall I say, pet projects that have been underwritten by some of the Branch Directors with extra funds provided by donations from Colleges and good old tax dollars.”
Gill leaned forward in his chair, “Want the job?”
Ozan was speechless, he found himself pinching his arm to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“I need to remind you of one thing, you will be a working director, not a paper pusher. We want you in charge of the research; you’ll have a budget, if you exceed that budget, I’ll need to know why. But, if the reasons are valid, I’ll get you the money. What do you say, we have a deal?
For the moment, all Ozan could do was nod.
“Excellent! I’ll notify the board, and then we’ll get started with your briefing.
XXXXX
It had been nearly two years since he had last visited his mother’s grave. He smiled as he thought back to the last visit, and the scare he had received the night he and his dad had been here. He knelt down next to the good Shepard statue and brushed away the leaves that covered her marker.
“I’m glad dad finally got the inscription put on, I know it was your favorite.”
I walk through the valley of the shadow, my soul doth joyfully sing
My name is written down, on my hand a royal ring
There awaits for me a crown of life, I a bride of royalty
All because the king himself was nailed to a tree
The heavens show thy handiwork, creation says it all
You the bride of Christ, in his grace you can stand tall
For in the marriage of the lamb, the table set for thee
The invitation for us all, sealed at
When I stand before my lord, his scars I look to see
The Holy Spirit doeth remind, he did it just for me
And then I’ll see the table, and the endless seating there
And join in the rejoicing, his endless love to share
His mom had been his teacher, protector, and friend, and now when success had finally arrived, she was not there to share it with him. Testing had proven he had total recall; every conversation and action was permanently stored away, waiting to be recalled. When most boys his age were watching cartoons, he read books. When kids his age were just starting grammar school, he was in college. At the age of fifteen when most kids were just starting to date, he was receiving his doctorate in mathematics. While some guys were building muscles, he was working to regain the use of his following a virile infection Doctors thought might be polio. Through all of that, his mom had stayed by his side. Then when things started looking up, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. His mind went to play back, retrieving memories and conversations like they were yesterday.
“Francois, my son, my bright young genius, you are different than most children. God has given you a gift so rare, and so precious. Ozan Francois La Baugh, some day you will solve the secrets of God’s universe. Someday you will be famous, but no matter what you do, I will always be proud of you. Use your gifts to increase the knowledge of man, and the greatness of God.”
“When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was so happy. From an early age the most important thing in my life was to be a mother. Being with you, taking care of you was not a chore, but a privilege. Being your teacher, nurse, and friend is what a mother does best. When you were just days old I wrote a poem, but I never could find a finish for it, until now. We still have time, but when I’m gone, I want that you should read it. When you become a man I want you to study it, for I believe you will do great things. I know you do not believe like your father and I do now, but some day you will. It is when you believe, that you will make your greatest discoveries
As I beheld the stars so far beyond my reach
I heard the voice of God; dear child let me teach,
For they are my creation, and they rule the sky by night
There is a truth to tell; they reflect my glory, all of it, my light.
Beautiful as they are, and majestic they may be
My child I want you to look, I want that you should see
For they are all of my creation, that I flung across the sky
Man will ask the question, who, and what, and why
For it was I who spread the clouds, and caused the rain to fall
I spread the light upon the earth; I made it for you all
I filled my hands with lightning bolts; I paint the sky so bright
With flame and fire I descend, in golden splendor is my right
All this splendor do I give, a gift my precious one
That thou might bare what I would give, a life, so precious from
In all creation, great and small, there is none so fine
That thou should have the privilege, the gift that was mine
A gift I give so willingly, that you should know the love
I relinquish all my splendor, I leave it far above
I give to you my life, freely this I do
So all can have the splendor, yes my child, you.
My son, I wrote that poem, when you I did conceive
And now with great emotion, I find that I must leave
For though this body dies, my spirit does survive
Far beyond the heavens, to a glory, so alive”
The sound of life support and the labored breathing of his mother filled his ears. He held her frail hand as he watched the heart monitor. With all his education, and all of his dad’s religion, there was nothing that could be done. Nothing was going to save her. His dad had called him at school and told him time was short. Now, all he could do was wait. There were no tears left, the ache he felt was no longer just in his heart, it seemed to consume his whole being. Cancer, operations and chemotherapy had transformed a vibrant woman into a shell of a human being; had he not known it was his mother, he would not have recognized her. It was the squeeze of her hand that brought him back to the present. He lowered his head so he could hear her speak.
He felt her gently kiss his cheek, then whisper,
“Goodbye my son, I pray I see you in the morning.”
He heard her sigh as she took her last breath; looking at the heart monitor he realized his mother was gone. He laid his head on her breasts as he often did as a child, and wept.
“Ozan, were going to be late, your plane leaves in a couple of hours.”
“I’m sorry son, but it’s getting late.”
Ozan turned and buried his face in his father’s arms; above the sounds of the swamp, the grief of a young man could be seen and heard.
XXXXX
“I called this staff meeting for the sole purpose of putting forth an agenda, and a reorganization I believe will give us the results we want in the least amount of time. Since assuming the directorship, I have spent the last eight months studying all the projects we are not only working on, but also the projects that are in the pipeline. I have also reviewed all the personnel files to see what talent we have, and where they would be best suited. At the present time we have eleven projects and three research programs being worked on. That will change. DSIRA stands for Deep Space Interstellar Research Agency, not Developmental Sciences.
“Nine out of the eleven projects in one way or another deal with the planetary sciences, and we’re going to shelve those. The other three are, Sun Spots and Magnetic Storms, Research Station Alpha, and Interplanetary flight. I guess I’m a little old-fashioned, but I like a job title that defines what a person does. So, Branch Directors are now going to be called Project Managers, the eleven Operations Manager positions will be eliminated and replaced by supervisor positions that the Project Managers will create.
“The main reasons for this, there are too many departments within departments, and information is not getting to the proper people quick enough. I am promoting Dr. Wagner Braum from Project Manager to Director of Projects. Dr. Steve Mangaline will head up Sun Spots and Magnetic Storms, Dr. Evelyn Smith will head up Research Station Alpha, and Dr. Nathaniel Goldsmith will head up Interplanetary Flight. Dr. Jim Brown, our other Project manager will head up the Gravitational Radiation Project. Dr. Muhammad El Mohammed who is one of our Operations Managers will be promoted to Project Manager, and he will head up the Ultra Light Transmissions project. All Project Managers will be reporting to Dr. Braum, and Dr Braum will be reporting directly to me.
“Drs. Olmar Zamudio and Yongxuan Yurchak who use to be Associate Directors have agreed to take on the responsibility of Directors of Interstellar Research; they will also report directly to me.
“Now, for those of you who have just had your positions eliminated, you will
report to Drs. Olmar Zamudio and Yongxuan Yurchak; they have their own agenda, and will place you in positions within the organization there. I know this came as a sudden shock, but let me assure you, the successes of these projects are vital, if we are to succeed in our ultimate goal. I can’t go into detail on all that is going on, but there are other organizations working on developing new technologies that without our success will fail.
“One last thing, as you look at the new reporting structure, you’ll see what looks like two different organizations within DSIRA, and the reason it looks that way is that’s because there are. Much of what we do is funded by either public contributions, or tax dollars. But, some of our work, due to the nature of it, is classified. So that Drs. Olmar Zamudio, Yongxuan Yurchak, and Wagner Braum can concentrate on their respective duties, I have created a combination of administrative and public affairs department that will be headed by a Major Dennis Mc Purty, an Air force Officer who performed the same duties at the Pentagon.
“This gentleman not only has a degree in Journalism, but in Aeronautical Engineering as well. As a former Astronaut and design engineer, he understands technical detail. He and his office will not only be the liaison between the different departments and myself, but also will coordinate all staff meetings and press releases.
“With all that being said, the senior staff and I will meet every week to discuss the progress or the lack thereof on all projects, I am going to be personally involved to some extent in one or more of theses projects, so it is vital that all research be up to date and current, so that the proper decisions can be made.
“I think that’s all that needs to said for now, so, Wagner, you and your staff have a lot of work ahead of you; I’d like a progress report next week. Major Mc Purty will be here tomorrow, so coordinate it with him, any Questions?”
Dr. Braum looked at his notes, and then replied. “Are we to assume that the people that were working on the current projects will remain there and those that were working on the projects that were cancelled will be laid off?”
“No, on the contrary, what I would like is for you and your staff to evaluate all those people and place them where they would be the most effective. I want to utilize the resources we have to make things happen faster. There are some things in the works that I can’t talk about now that depend on you and your staff getting these projects from the drawing board to reality. You also bring up a point I was going to make, and forgot. Olmar, get with Wagner and his staff and help with the evaluation process, you’re going to need about fifty people to bring your staff up to recommended levels. Just keep in mind what we’re trying to do.”
“What about the cost?”
“We saved two point seven billion dollars by shelving the planetary sciences; that’s money that can be funneled into our current projects. But if I can show we need extra money, and can justify the expense, Dr. Blahee will get us the funding. Which reminds me, the project for Anomalies in Axis Shift, I want the mathematical team to report to Dr. Yurchak this afternoon, and I want an analysis performed on the report I sent you by tomorrow morning.”
