"Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited."“Whoever undertakes to set himself up as a judge of Truth and Knowledge is

shipwrecked by the laughter of the gods.” Albert Einstein

For all the Woman in my life,

Synopsis..

Martin, a clock maker by trade has a mysterious visitor. He leaves martin a puzzle to solve. Martin takes an interest, and to his surprise solves the riddle thereby unlocking a door to another world. Events conspire and unfold to reveal not another unifying theory of everything, but the truth of things, the quantum cold truth of the philosopher stone, frequency. Martin discovers the science of radio physics, which by analogy describes certain infrasonic realities never before studied or observed by modern man. This leads to string theory based research. The resulting ancient technology Martin discovers can be described best as a tin can with a string, of global proportions. Martin journeys to Egypt, South America, Mexico, Rome, and Greece. In his quest for understanding, Martin discovers that the vibration patterns in trays of sand caused by certain tones with a tone generator reveal hidden secrets in all things ancient, from language to art, medicine, music, crop circles, etc. Martin devises a way of converting frequency, sound, into patterns, and patterns into never before heard music written in the first language, sound impressions.

Martin discovers the mechanics of language, the vowels are the "atoms" and the consonants are "molecules". Thus the first "words" were A E I O U Y, these made corresponding patterns in the sands that were used to discover the true meaning behind the oldest ancient writing. It is also the link between utterance magic, spells and the quantum chemistry. Martin discovers that the periodic scale also mirrors the patterns. He discovers the "missing" elements from the periodic table by calculating the existing patterns and the resulting "tone" heard when the pattern was matched to a sound, created a musical scale. The software already had the missing "element" frequencies Martin uses to convert to patterns that expose the nature of the missing elements, some of which have orbit shifting protons known to phase naturally into and out of existence.

Martin discovers the work of Royal Raymond Rife, and decodes the frequencies into patterns, and decodes the patterns into recognizable pathogens as well. Martin becomes something of an expert in his own pursuits, and makes a name for his "linguistic" expertise, which makes him privy to the oldest, rarest, most important writings in existence. This leads Martin to interpret the meanings of these symbols and advance his techniques for revealing the patterns in the sands. He discovers a way with lasers and an air cannon acoustical amplifier based on the Roman coliseum design to make the pattern render in 3 dimensions with certain harmonics. With this method, he discovers the most ancient of secrets, the secrets of the stars were the first designs coded by the ancients. Martin discovers a language based in the 3 dimensional forms he believes is Atlantean. They describe how their 3 ringed island sanctuary was created by projecting the sound over the water, and adding harmonics to attract the atoms from the water to form solid masses from the sea its self, just as the earth and the continents were formed in the very beginning.

Martin discovers sonic communications networks between the ancient structures of Atlantis, Egypt, Peru, Mexico, Rome, and Greece. Martin journeys to Egypt to decipher previously illegible hieroglyphs and discovers the secrets of the pyramids constriction and purpose. They used mechanical resonators to vibrate communications from one side of the globe to another with the pre-Babylonian global language of sand patterns transmitted by massive Morse code resonators pounding upon the bedrock. They also used the same system to lock and unlock secret crypts and tombs. Symbols were found upon the ancient structures as to their designations, and codes. The massive machinery described could tune in to the resonance to any chamber in the ancient world. The pyramids were the original telephone exchange. He discovers sonic gliders etched into the wall in an ancient tomb near Luxor, and some writings that describe their construction, lists of elements and such. The Roman coliseum was designed like an acoustic ear drum amplifier/receiver to resonate and project the 3-D communications from distant vibrations broadcast by the steam driven bedrock hammers that were decoded and amplified all around the ancient world like a global university, as was the library of Alexandria. Broadcasts from there were coordinated for the ancient universities around the globe, Athens for instance. The ancient knowledge, physics, and chemistry and medicine, music were broadcast world wide like an ancient world wide web. The 3 dimensional methods used in translating Egyptian hieroglyphics revealed sonic treatments for all known diseases, and catalogued them.

The ancient 3-D writings also told of compounds created by depicting molecules, and elements. Such as a method for condensing krypton into its oxide form, kryptonite, an oxide used for the production of zero point cold fusion technology reacting by splitting helium atoms. The ancient secret was to use frequency to fold time and space during the process. Machinery was described that could push entire mountains of sand back. In the oldest of them, the stars, and the constellations were also represented by their radio frequency impressed upon the sands. Martin discovers that the crop circles are actually representations of stars and solar systems, described to us in the language of origin, a language we haven't even read since Babylon. In Peru, etched upon the inner sanctum is the prophecy never before properly translated. It reads of how the world was

created with frequency from the "heavens". It describes mans arrival here on earth traveling along frequency, projected from far away. The prophecy describes the Mayans as the last of the "keepers of the light" It also describes how they traveled back "home" when there was no longer reason for the language of origin to exist here. It describes the "sound" harmonic that created this world, and every atom in it, will one day return to aether. The series of sounds that created the world were reflected in the patterns assembled in the Mayan calendar. The prophecy also gives directions to a solar system of the Mayan origin. The patterns on the wall convert into frequencies that originate from a solar system monitored by SETI because of the unique radio emissions emanating from its star. The Mayans did not worry if they would be followed, they knew the Spanish didn't speak origin. They followed the teachings of origin and returned the same way they got here, abandoning the earth to her peoples fate. The writings describe how they were never here in a permanent sense. It speaks of a source light that illuminated their "patterns" into the sands of our time, however, their source "light" never left their home realm. The calendar patterns in the prophecy describe the date the ancient knowledge of origin would be broadcast from the solar system depicted in the prophecy.

As Martin travels the world seeing through new eyes, he sees the pattern every where, he begins to advance his own metaphysical theories. Linking philosophical, with quantum realms begins to unravel even more of the patterns into the mind and body. While looking over a color graph of the full electromagnetic spectrum, something of a droopy line graph, Martins double vision super imposes one graph over another, and an idea strikes him.. If he takes transparencies of this graph, and superimposes them like a kaleidoscope... he is shocked to discover a Peruvian "god's eye". The graph was just like what he made in school as a boy, 2 sticks crossed, and different colors of wool interwoven into a diamond of color. He remembers wondering the proper order to the color. Now he knows, it's just like the electromagnetic rainbow. The true natures of the 4 dimensions begin to descend upon him. Religions, philosophy, languages lie shattered in pieces at his feet. He then imagines a 3-D version would resemble a star, with points and color in all directions emanating from it. He takes more and more overlays and creates an "electromagnetic" spider web pattern. The only thing missing is the spider. Then he remembers a picture from grade 9 science texts, a depiction of the earth inside of its own magnetic field stressed from the solar bombardment, the lines of magnetic stress look identical to a spider! The large mass of iron in orbit above us commonly known as the moon continuously creates and collapses electromagnetic fields, creating the generation station known as the ionosphere to mediate the electrical influence in the earth and its inhabitants as the spider effect crosses every inch of the globe, pulled in every direction across the planet by its spin and orbit, acting as an amplifier of cosmic radio influences.

Now realizing the underlying pattern for the spider, and the web, Martin endeavors to reveal the rest of the quantum mechanics behind the tapestry of existence. It's now certain to him, from listening to the first recorded music and words, from decoding the ancients' understandings, which they knew. They knew what we were, where we were from, and at least everything we know today. After rediscovering the entire world, rewriting history, physics, finalizing quantum understandings, Martin becomes aware of his own patterns, and begins to internalize inward patterns and makes

more discoveries into human nature, patterns, our form, and ultimately, our purpose. His attention is drawn to medical resonance machines described by the ancients similar to the Rife machine that might heal illnesses. He devises a way to evoke mental vibrations and measure the effect with a brain activity color ECG. For Martin, events accelerate and condense into what could be his final decisions, culminating in a test of faith. Not his faith, yours. Read it, I dare you.

Sand Script~Book One

The Land Before Time.

A Story…

Chapter 1

As Martin blinked into the inky blackness, he realized that he was back in his room. The dream had come again, in wild technicolor, the immense river of random energy flux washing everything in its path. It was a river of thought he imagined, a torrent of all of creation flowing endlessly, no beginning, no end. Each time he had this dream he stood closer to it, trying to make sense of the random “ideas” that flowed endlessly through him around him, everywhere. Awakened by the flood of electrical impulses injected into his brain by the very sight of this incredible spectacle, Martin squinted into the night finding the tritium dial of the clock. Faded with age but still casting its greenish atomic hue, he located it just out of arms reach on the night stand. It

read 3:30 am, certainly no time to be getting up he thought, but never the less, a cup of tea should calm his nerves and allow sleep to creep back into his over stimulated brain. The clamor of pots on the stove, and sounds familiar to him drove the unsettling thoughts from his mind. For 6 weeks now the dreams have become more and more memorable, describable, vivid, tangible and intentional. Whatever caused his dreams was in full repeat mode, intentionally broadcasting the images stronger and brighter each successive time. The strange questions and implications of what he saw were beginning to crowd his waking state. In fact, Martin thought, he is beginning to deliberately notice and enjoy any distraction that would come along. But of course all things lead around eventually, to questions. As Martin let the water for the tea heat up, he found himself going through the office tidying papers, and clearing a space in front of the computer. The screen activated when the mouse was bumped and started to glow. Martin noticed he had a new email. It was his friend from Westminster in response to the previous evening’s correspondence. “Yes, yes Friday is perfect timing! Stop by and bring some coffee. I haven’t left the lab in much too long.” John Kenneth was an interesting article. He was someone to talk to about far out concepts. Having been trained by the military in radio and radar physics, coupled with his studies of philosophy, John was a great conversationalist. Martin was about to R.S.V.P. when the whistle shattered his train of thoughts, and sent a brief shiver up his spine. Who was that author, the one who wrote about the 6 foot police whistles that could shatter concrete walls. Lyall Watson, that’s the fellow. Martin remembered. He was also the one who put forward the theory of the 100th monkey. Frequency has been the underlying theme since meeting the infamous radio physicist. Seems many things are connected with the concept of vibration. As the tea steeped, Martin replied affirmatively to John and sent him this last weeks interesting links. Martin shut down the computer and took a long sip from his cup. As the tea warmed his throat and chest he deliberately cleared his mind of these nagging thoughts and began to drift. Tomorrow was another day.

It must have been the tapping that woke him Martin thought as he tried to get his bearings and throw on his clothes. It was only 10 minutes past 9, but customers were a precious commodity these days. As he rushed past his cluttered shelves and desks he could recognize Mrs. Anderson through the dusty pane of glass in the front door. Her impatience projected itself through the glass even before the door was opened. “Hello Vivian!” Martin exclaimed warmly, “How nice to see you this fine morning! And how’s Frank?” “Frank is the same as he's been for 20 years. I don’t know what I’d do if he changed now!” Vivian replied. “Have I caught you at a bad time? Pardon the pun?” She asked. It was a joke they had shared more than half a dozen times. “Not at all.” Martin replied, “I have everything synchronized, and the entire mechanism has been cleaned and adjusted.” The Holmes grandfather clock stood proudly in the corner with its solid silver pendulum loping side to side, its beautiful intricate mother of pearl, onyx, and ivory dial glistening as though it had just been restored. The dial for the lunar phases had become disconnected, and had been the main motivation for the clocks arrival. Vivian Anderson was a lifelong customer, a family friend of his father, inherited along with the store. McBride’s Clock Emporium stood along a row of historically dilapidated buildings for over 50 years. Chertsey Abbey has been marking time since the Dark Ages, just up the road. The green grassy park and surrounding gardens were a place Martin remembered

from his youth very well. It was a pleasant town with some historical significance. Martin wasn’t the only one in town who could fix a clock, but his store was the only such store dedicated to his craft. Despite his monopoly of sorts, London was less than 30 kilometers away. Martin was raised by his father in such a way to illuminate the reasons behind the principals he wanted to instill in his son. As a result, the McBride Clock Emporium runs now as it once had, with a polite and quiet dignity as is fit for a son of England. “Shall I deliver it this moment? Or have you only just begun your shopping adventure for the day?” Martin asked. “I only came this early so I might plan my afternoon.” Vivian answered hastily. “I will stop by in a couple of hours if you can accommodate me?” “Of course Mrs. Anderson, I shall have it loaded and prepared for travel before you return.” “Good morning to you then.” Vivian said as she left the store. Martin turned to face his overcrowded work areas. Among the debris scattered about the store, he selected a book and opened it up to the paper napkin he had used for a marker. The book was about a man who invented a machine that worked on the principal of radio frequency to cure disease. Part of his mind wanted to reject it all outright as a turn of the century charlatan selling snake oil and false hope. The doctors diagnosed his father’s disease two months prior to his death some years ago. A tumor near his father’s spine had begun to furiously divert tissues and blood vessels for its own purposes until he had to find out why he was having these fainting spells. Martin’s father took the news well, an observer might say. Outwardly at the time, he allowed only a sedated look of maturity and responsibility to overtake his features. However, inwardly, an implosion occurred. His thoughts raced franticly from one to the next. Since his diagnosis, he had made it his mission to rediscover the lost technology of Royal Raymond Rife. His father read and re-read the schematics, trying to understand every detail. He bought used laboratory equipment from the university in London and made the back room of the shop a makeshift laboratory. There was more than enough equipment to perform the task he had reasoned, “After all, Nikola Tesla was using the same method to cure tuberculosis in the late 1800’s, and he didn’t have any of this stuff.” He spent many late nights with his physicist friend John. Martin’s father continued in his quest relentlessly until his passing. Martin’s Mother had passed when he was just 16. His father had been by his side nearly every day since. The relationship between Martin and his father’s old friend John grew in the days and months following his father’s passing. Although Rife technology was a little beyond Martin’s interest at that point, yet they both still shared a very keen interest in electricity and her natural marvels. John’s laboratory was a veritable playground for anyone interested in any kind of science. Martin routinely found himself in a private study curriculum of his own, studying sometimes for a week in advance for a conversation he would soon be having with his friend the scientist. The common patterns he discovered in such theories as Rife, Townsend, and Tesla trickled into vague translations of universal vibratory forces converting vibrations into kinetic energy. He could liken the ideas to a universal time-piece, the springs inside or even gravity its self translating its pre-allocated kinetic energy into a metered function. The swing of a pendulum is just a vibration at a slow rate. The gears and disks inside were the medium that did the translation. Martin scoured the technical pages looking for analogies to his own discipline, so he might jump the usually tedious learning curve, and apply his knowledge to his theoretical problems as he continued his own studies. Martin didn’t have much time to go through the usually accepted process of learning a new field, and acquire official accreditations, there was

after all the family business to run as well. Besides this educational pursuit was little more than a way to put some of his father’s old equipment to use and keep his memory alive. He was not seeking to change his profession at this point in his life. So there was no reason to keep referring to anyone’s academic limitations and assumptions. As he sat there reading and re-reading the technical sections in an old biography of T. Townsend Brown, he resolved his final decision on the matter of his father’s research. He would continue to invest his time into some of the research fields that his father and John had been pursuing. If nothing else it seemed to be expanding the limits of his own comprehension of the macrocosm of the universal system its self. The front door chime suddenly invaded his thoughts. “Hello” Martin asked, “May I help you?” A distinguished gentleman plunked down a piece of brass in the shape of a small domed cylinder upon the work mat at the counter and retorted “If you can’t no one I've heard of around here has such an interest.” Martin’s interest was piqued by the dense thud that accompanied the object. Despite its size, the grooves and lines etched into it told him that this was a very small machine likely. Such odd round small machines things tend to make a clock maker’s son take a direct interest. Martin picked up the brass circular object, looked it over and discovered the reason for the gentleman’s visit. Certain patterns, almost like hieroglyphs adorned the outer edges of the ornament. Martin had to guard his speech carefully as not to betray the excitement he felt stir in him as he asked, “Where does this item come from? What may I ask, do you know of it’s history?” “It belonged to my father, and my grandfather before that” the stranger replied. “I see, forgive my rudeness, you seem to have me at a loss, you know of my work, yet we have not yet been properly introduced. My name is Martin McBride. And you are…?” “Col. Tim Alexander, retired R.A F.” the gentleman replied, extending his hand in an abrupt military manor. He paused to reflect for a moment, as if he was hesitant to continue. “I have circulated this object throughout my family and friends, and we have come up with only one theory. The 26 designs equally spaced around the face have led us to believe this is some kind of antique timepiece, perhaps missing the top dial portion to cast a shadow upon the corresponding design to tell time.” “How may I be of service? Do you want to re-construct the missing dial?” Martin queried as he revolved the object in his hands. “Actually, no.” said the Col. “There are a couple of bewildering details I have not been able to put my finger on since I have had it. The top half spins freely from the bottom half, precisely machined to do so. It seems as though it might open, but it won’t. The button in the center seems to be on a spring, but it does not release it. It could be jammed perhaps. Also, the designs are all different yet somewhat similar, like they are from a language. Neither I nor anyone I have spoken to about these symbols could give me any clue at all as to their origin. Also, I noticed it rattles slightly when shaken vigorously.” said the colonel with a befuddled expression set into his features. “If I understand your dilemma correctly, you want it opened, and you would also like to know the meaning or translation of the symbols.” Martin asked. “Yes” said Tim, “But don’t break it, I want it functioning.” “Here is my card,” Martin said as he shook the colonel’s hand, “I would be delighted to look into it for you. I’ve been waiting all year for a piece of history to enchant me. Call me next week after I meet with a couple of professors, one I know does linguistics, another is a historical engineer. This is the type of mystery we all really enjoy. You certainly have come to the right place.” Narrowing his eyes as he seemed to study Martin, the colonel asked, “Have you seen anything like it in your travels before?” “I

believe I might have seen some of these symbols somewhere, But I can’t place them right now. I haven’t had my morning coffee quite yet. But, I have never seen a clock like this though, sundial or otherwise. No.” replied Martin. “Well, I believe I have made the right choice then, you seem to have an unnatural fascination with such things, and I look forward to discussing your findings next week then.” With that said, Colonel Alexander bid him a good morning, and stepped back into the street. After a lengthy pause, Martin looked at the bottom of the brass cylinder shaped ornament. He noticed that it was slightly convex. He shook it until it rattled. Maybe this would be simpler than it looked. He placed the object on the glass, and spun it with quick thrust. When the object stopped its initial vibration, he pushed the button in the center of the dial down with a pencil. It receded into the face as the object stopped spinning under the pressure from the pencil. Martin picked up the object and turned the lid clock ways. It gave that tell tale click of tumblers falling into place. The device divided itself into two halves, the top, and the bottom, exposing the inner workings for the first time in generations it seemed, perhaps even centuries Martin wondered excitedly. A quick glimpse inside the device showed six tumblers. They were centered by springs, but shaped so that the clockwise spin at the proper rate would overcome the springs and allow the center cog to be released from its locking position releasing the two halves from each other. Martin’s talent since boyhood was having some kind of empathy for machinery. He could imagine the problem, and diagnose things by intuition. He had something of an x-ray vision with certain mechanical devices. It’s as though a voice with accompanying pictures would guide him. At times it could be a bit of a curse when he would try to go through complex diagrams that he never bothered to learn because his x-ray talent would squeak him through the lesson plans his father outlined for him. Martin realized suddenly that he had left his door open for business, yet this priceless artifact was in pieces before him on the counter. He rushed to lock the door. He put up the closed sign and drew the blinds shut. On the odd chance that the colonel would reappear, Martin didn’t want to relinquish this device just yet, at least not before he was finished satisfying his curiosity. There was still the matter of the symbols, and the inner workings. Before he allowed himself to be further tantalized by the parts, Martin turned on the computer and readied his scanner. He cleared an area near it so the digital photographs were free of other debris. Carefully Martin lit the area well, and began to document this marvelous device. Each symbol was given its own folder, scans and photos began to create a structure of files he could go through at any time, weather he had the clock in his possession or not. Upon examination, it did seem to be a time piece, the colonel had probably got that right. But a quick calculation looking at the gears and manually activating the mechanism revealed that it never calculated the hours of a day. It was actually a calendar! It had extra pieces though, like a miniature telescope clipped into the side of the mechanism. The clock work was foreign to him, though he could logically determine the relationship of each part to the next. He had never seen gears and cogs with as much detail to them before. He peered at the device under his looking glass and was amazed at the tiny etched designs along the flat surface of each gear and cog. They looked like tiny paisley patterns.He traced the movement back to the source to discover another extra part, as though something was missing. There was no spring to drive anything forward. When he moved it, the wheels would turn a bit, bit the main spring was no where to be found. Could it merely be a calculator he wondered? Turning to the lid for a possible answer he noticed a small piece that seemed

to be out of place in the recess of the depression. Pushing the piece down with a micro screwdriver produced an audible click. The “button” didn’t return. Martin’s intuition suggested he turn the inner mechanism counter clock ways. That did it, there was no resistance and the inner workings came out to reveal a concealed bottom in the device. Martin’s heart was racing as circular sheets of some kind of waxy paper stacked upon each other fell into his hand as he overturned the empty cylinder. He immediately set those aside in their correct order and examined the inscription inside the bottom of the cylinder. It was an ‘X’ inside of a ‘O’ dividing it into a pie shape. In each of 4 quadrants, another symbol not unlike the ones adorning the outer cover yet not a match either were carved very skillfully into the bottom of this oversized brass makeup jar. In his excitement, Martin kept documenting each new find. The pieces of paper were another mystery altogether. They were faded and damaged by time, but patterns could be seen clearly by the naked eye. One pattern per paper, none were repeating. He would need to hand draw, or find a way to illuminate the ink so it could be picked up by his scanner. This task was just too time consuming to be finished quickly. In his excitement, hours had melted away. It was almost time for his visit with the Radio Alchemist, John Kenneth. This would certainly be a nice distraction from the purpose of his visit, a welcome interlude to them both. Vivian never came for her clock he realized. Perhaps it was the closed sign gave her pause. It never stopped her from waking him that very morning. Tomorrow was another day, he put the circular papers into an empty file folder, and proceeded to gather his thoughts and papers for his visit to see John. He reassembled the colonel’s calendar, and threw his briefcase into his Citroen, and headed to London. Martin navigated the antique car down the antique road, across the antique bridge heading out of town. The nostalgia never escaped him. His hopeless romanticism had often been a great source of excitement in his studies. Ancient civilizations were at the top of his interest second only to spy novels and the Hardy Boys novels when he was a boy. Martin had a renewed interest in all things ancient since John had introduced him to one of his peers, Adam Taylor. Adam was a renowned historical engineer, he was one of the great minds of the local scientific community. Martine would only confide in John to help him solve the mystery of the brass calendar though. At this point, he has no intention of consulting anyone else yet, this mystery was too rich to share. Martin wanted this puzzle all to himself, with the exception of his closest confidant John. It began to sprinkle, then rain. By the time Martin got to the lab, it was pouring rain, and dark. The gloom seemed to add to the suspense of the evening, and didn’t bother him at all as he grabbed his briefcase and mounted the stairs to the lab. He deliberately took his time, considering he had not combed his hair having been so abruptly launched into his day by Vivian’s unscheduled appearance. Satisfied that the plausible deniability concerning his appearance had been adjusted by the weather just enough, he ran his fingers through his messy hair, turned the latch and entered the lab.

Chapter 2John Kenneth was a genius of a man, he graduated no formal school, yet he had collected no less than three honorary PhDs from three countries other than his own. Having been hospitalized as a teen for his inability to communicate as was expected of him, as was the

custom of the time, he was later diagnosed with a rare form of dyslexia. This meant that John interprets much of the world ‘backwards’ from everyone else. The irony was that his significance as a historical engineer and physicist stemmed from his ability to reverse engineer very old technology based on the tools and supplies and chemistry available at the time. Following his own path, through technology and history, John had recreated many turn of the century devices using the old ways, mixing some newer advancements of science or chemistry. It was this innocent pursuit of knowledge that made the man with little formal education recognized and respected. An array of high voltage equipment designed by Nikola Tesla and recreated by John was being used along with a radioactive alpha particle emitter. It was John’s hypothesis that if the “target” was bombarded with alpha radiation, the nucleus would open its shell to certain frequencies being emanated from the Tesla equipment and conform to the Biefeld–Brown Effect. It was in 1988 that John was able to achieve levitation of objects with this method. By the 1990’s, he was reorganizing matter itself at the atomic level with pure radio frequency. John Kenneth became known as the world’s first Radio Alchemist. His new discovery was dubbed the Kenneth-Effect. As it turns out, much of the world has little tolerance for someone with dyslexia. The government grants had been just enough to establish a small laboratory in London, and John knew he was lucky to have that. A meager lifelong disability pension was the government’s way of settling out of court for their misdiagnosis and the erroneous medication regiments inflicted upon him while he was a ‘ward of the state’ in his youth. As his discoveries began to circulate scientific circles, he attracted their attention yet again, but for an entirely different reason. John did not see their attempts to acquire his cooperation in any new light. Given the history of his interactions with government, he declined every offer put forward to him. He in fact began to solicit funding from other interested governments with some limited success in Germany and Japan. England considered this a major technological security issue, and would allow no other interested party to form any kind of substantial arrangements with him. Much of John’s equipment used to produce his effects was subsequently seized from his lab as he travelled abroad doing demonstrations and giving lectures. Upon inquiries from a prestigious London Law firm hired to represent him by one of his benefactors, the UK Ministry of Technology responded by letter that the equipment removed violated the treaty of the Geneva Convention’s ban on such specific radio devices. Furthermore such devices should not be reconstructed or further actions would be taken against his person to prevent such future breaches. When the government had grown tired of him refusing their generous offerings of large research grants in major laboratories, they decided it was best to allow him to continue on his quest on their terms. A small monthly grant was awarded to allow the scientist to continue his research in some small capacity. It was at least incentive to keep the man in his home country. The odd military contract went to fund some of his more exotic research. Over the years that Martin had been friends with John, many unique and interesting individuals had been introduced to Martin. John works on and off with special effects crews creating devices for the movie studios. The secret agents and American military were also an interesting aspect of the life of this radio physicist. One never knew just who would be in the lab at any given time. It was certainly a part of the excitement Martin felt when anticipating his visits. The subject matter was excitement enough. Martin had spent many a sleepless night in the lab. Ice cream and coffee were a favorite combination. As Martin walked into the lab he was

noticed by the scientist who beckoned him to join him in the control room. Martin put the evening’s ice cream in the refrigerator near the coffee station as he joined John who was peering into a microscope. “Look” John nodded at the microscope. As Martin brought into focus the specimen upon the stage, John asked if he was looking at it clearly as he flicked a series of switches. “Yes.” Martin murmured as his sight adjusted to the light of the microscope. A hum followed by some bright flashes of light began to cycle in the room. As Martin looked into the eyepiece of the microscope, his confusion became shock, as he stood up from the hunched position over the table and exclaimed, “Did you do that?” “Yes, of course I did, shall I do it again?” John asked. “What may I ask was on the slide?” Martin queried. “It’s a pathogen, diseased cells.” John replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t understand what occurred on the slide?” Martin asked again. “A friend of a friend passed on, and I bid on his lab a few months back,” John gestured to a few pallets of boxes and equipment, “and it has just arrived yesterday. Russell Schmit was a ‘Rife’ enthusiast, fascinated with the idea of using harmless radio frequency to resonate with different cells, acids, medications, and pathogens.” Martin looked into the eyepiece again and was struck by a thought, “Does that mean you can isolate the pathogenic compounds in the body and affect them like radio controlled nano-bots, like Rife?” “Yes, at this moment to some degree, it does seem so.” John replied, “Russell was working on cancer cells as well as many other diseases. I made the trip today personally to collect the specimens, the university needed to reallocate the space.” “I see” said Martin thoughtfully, “So, the samples are pathogens?” “Yes, most of them, and different mould cultures. Basically it’s an a to z variety of level one and level two viruses and diseases. It’s quite a bargain for my efforts.” John replied whimsically with a wink. He had known of Martin’s continued interest in the subject after his father’s passing and was now reallocating his some of his resources to lend Martin’s quest some traction. The two had been pursuing some of this ‘fringe scientific research’ in hopes that one day their joint hobby would yield some results that could help medical science remember what it had once lost. Gratitude welled up inside of him as he drew a deep breath and gathered his thoughts before his feelings betrayed his features. “That’s been my excitement the last couple of days.” John continued, “I needed to get away from those mushroom crops for a while. You don’t really notice it at first, but they really do have a scent.” John was referring to his oyster mushroom crops. He had been investigating methods of accelerating the growth oil eating fungi by using many of his vandagraph generators and tesla coils to produce artificial lightning strikes and surround the crops with electrostatic charged air and ozone. After a few weeks of initial testing, John happened upon a method of growing them at a very advanced rate. As he bread them and sorted the most potent ones from the bunch, and bread them again, he fed them oils and plastics while they continued to grow at an increasingly incredible rate. This was the basis for his theory that the environmental catastrophe in the Gulf of Mexico could actually be reduced by his reprogrammed strains of mushrooms. He also hoped the massive island of garbage in the pacific could be reduced or even eliminated by his discovery. John had been continuously breeding and electrifying them. His results yielded a mushroom that will rapidly grow to five times its natural size, over 4 times its natural rate as well. It was a project really close to his heart. John hated to see animals harmed. He had even traveled to the disaster repeatedly to take samples back home and treat them.

As John finished shutting down his lab for the evening he pulled up a chair across from Martin and smiled a tired smile. “You seemed rather excited when you called earlier. What is it that you have come across?” he asked. Martin stood up and silently put his case upon the bench and opened it. As John gazed into the case, his eyes caught something on the brass antique Martin had brought. “May I?” He asked. “Of course you may.” Martin replied as John reached into the case and lifted the brass antique to his nose, and examined it very closely. “What is it, and where did you come across such an item?” John murmured, not looking away from the object, as he examined each facet minutely. “A local military man brought it to me just yesterday. He said it had been in his family for generations.” said Martin. “I’ve seen a very similar item before.” John said as he put the item back into the briefcase. “What’s your interest in this? Do you own this?” John carefully asked. “No, I don’t own this device. I agreed to look into its construction and origin on behalf of the Colonel who brought it to me. He was convinced it was a clock. Where have you seen this before?” Martin replied. “As a boy, our family used to travel. My father was a business man who believed education was something you lived, not learned from books. We spent two years in Egypt when I was about sixteen until eighteen. My tutor cultured me in the traditional method, museums, churches, laboratories, ruins, archaeology, and endless libraries. I examined each piece from every angle I could see. There were thousands of them. And this my friend, strongly resembles an exhibit from the Ma'adi Museum.” John said. He looked at Martin as the paper disks slipped from his hand and fluttered to the floor. Martin glanced around quickly for his chair and slumped into it as though in a trance. Instinctively, John began to pick the paper disks for his friend. The more he gathered, the slower he picked them up, as though they were heavy. After a moment, John went from his kneeling position, to cross-legged on the floor, putting the papers back one at a time so he could see all the interesting patterns printed on the papers at the same time. The two friends sat immersed in their respective universes for a long moment. “I always suspected” John mumbled absently. Martin, sitting up slightly blinking the glazed gaze from his eyes replied “That I was an international art thief?” “No, no, Chladni patterns. Have you studied anything of Ernst Chladni?” John asked, not looking up. Martin thought for a few seconds and shook his head. “He is a pioneer of acoustics, born in the mid 1700’s. He discovered by bowing a metal plate with sand upon it, he could create limitless different patterns in the sands. The powder or sand he used would be vibrated off the moving areas, leaving a pattern behind.” John continued, “It appears to me that most of the designs on the box can be reproduced by sound waves, all of these pieces of paper are also sand patterns as well.” Martin stared blankly, but his thoughts were racing in his mind, one overlapping the next until he could barely catch glimpses of the picture forming in the background. Trembling from excitement, Martin stood up and grabbed the device, spun it on the stainless steel bench like a top, and pushed the button with a pencil he liberated from John’s pocket. Sensing the commotion, John looked up just as the button made an audible click. Martin divided the device in half, and gave it back to John, who was still seated cross legged on the floor. John examined the inner workings of this possibly ancient machine. As he realized the shape of the paper disks was identical to the inner cavity of the device, a smile slowly formed across his face. John promptly got up placing the two pieces on the table as he did. He quickly crossed the room, and locked the front door. Grinning now,

John gathered up the paper disks and began to order them in a way Martin could not understand. “I think it’s a calendar.” Martin offered. “I don’t think so my friend.” John said as he continued to arrange the disks on the bench.” “What is it then?” asked Martin with a growing look of confusion setting into his features. “I will show you right now, you have to see it to believe it.” John said as he crossed the room. Grabbing an old looking case, he set it on the bench between the two of them and plugged it in. He reached over to the cabinet above the coffee station and grabbed the bag of sugar and dumped it upon the tray that was fixed to the top of the machine like the dish of a scale. John flicked a few switches and the hum of quiet tubes began to emanate from a rack mount of equipment. It was moments like this that Martin had learned to be quiet and let the genius work. After several minutes of criss-crossing the lab with odds and ends, and with a few adjustments of the rack mount equipment, a howl began to emanate from a speaker contraption John had dumped the bag of sugar from the coffee room into. He looked up from his speaker smiling, and gestured with a nod of his head to come over and observe. As Martin looked at the equipment, John went to the rack of equipment and began to adjust the signal generator he had fed through his amplifier. Immediately the sugar came alive, shifting patterns as quickly as the tones changed! The patterns were so specific, familiar in some way. The tray of sugar was acting like an etch-a-sketch plugged into a video signal. It resembled something of a cave man television, moving pictures shape-shifting into others, blending, morphing. Martin turned to look at John who was beaming. “Did you guess what this is yet?” he asked. “No, but I’m already amazed. I didn’t know sound could do that!” said Martin in an excited tone. “These symbols on the pieces of paper look a lot like Chladni patterns. See this first piece? I recognize a lot of these.” John said as he turned the pitch up and produced several patterns until he settled on the one depicted on the paper disk. “I studied this phenomenon in depth as a hobby through my twenties.” John said as he sorted the papers in an order, then with the slow adjustment of the pitch, he made the images appear one by one in the sugar upon the plate. The patterns were sharp, clear and no accident. John was deliberately ordering them from memory it seemed. Martin wondered at this aloud, “How is it you have memorized the order of the patterns? There seems to be little transition between one to the next? How can you remember that?” Martin asked curiously. “I don’t remember the order of the frequency in relation to these patterns, that’s what fascinated me for so many years about the little known realm of cymatics.” John replied. “I don’t understand what you mean.” Martin said as his brows furrowed in the usual way he does when reaching a little beyond what he can comprehend. This was a common state of perpetual amazement Martin never quite grew accustomed to, yet continued to grow as John provoked Martins curiosity in more than a few topics over the years. “I remember these patterns as characters in Vedic Sanskrit, this symbol right here is the Sanskrit equivalent of the word OM, Sanskrit for God.” As John leaned over to demonstrate this effect, there was an audible click as he pushed a button on the instrument that patched in a microphone through the amplifier. John then spoke “AUM” in a low deliberate forceful tone as the sugar danced into place to form the pattern on the disk he held in his hand. Grinning at Martin’s obvious shocked expression John continued, “See? These are the vowel sounds on these ones.” John spoke in the same lower tone all of the sounds of the vowels, and to Martins open astonishment, each vowel conformed to the vowel patterns John had ordered. “Who else knows of this?” Martin gasped, “Why have I never heard of this

before? And why have you never mentioned it to me?” “Well” John chuckled, “I had actually forgotten to mention it. I haven’t had the luxury of having any extra hobbies for some time now.” John went on as he looked remorsefully at rows of undeveloped projects strewn about the lab. John thought for a moment then continued, “I have done a lot of this kind of stuff with this machine here. Supposedly God had said he is the ‘Alpha and the Omega’ it kind of makes me think of the Alphabet, and the word Om in omega. It seems to reference the tangible describable world of the alphabet, and the intangible world of Om, sound, Omega meaning Great Sound. I think there is a puzzle in it all to be discovered. If I knew you liked this sort of thing, I certainly would have brought it up earlier.” Martin looked away from the sugar on the plate and asked, “Why isn’t this in magazines, or in schools?” “Well” replied John as he scratched his chin thoughtfully, “It is a recent discovery that has had very little attention paid to it. There was a bit of a buzz in the late 1960’s, then nothing much since. There is very little commercial application for acoustic resonance, therefore little funding.” Glancing over his shoulder, John caught a glimpse of the clock, “Golly look at the time lad, I need to meet with the head of some company who has been making some interesting proposals of late.” John looked around the room covertly and whispered, “They want to buy my mushrooms.” Martin burst into laughter at John’s antics. John began unplugging his device, detached the plate and dumped the sugar back into the bag. Martin made a conscious note to avoid putting sugar in his tea until the next sack of sugar. John was accustomed to a little dust, metal and or chemistry in his meals. A habit Martin was not too keen to pick up on for himself. “Take this with you, and let me know how your decryption goes.” said John as he handed Martin the device and a wadded handful of cables. “When you tell me something I don’t know already about cymatics, I will become particularly interested in your findings I never found the primer.” John said with a wink. “Primer?” Martin echoed. “You’ll see.” Grinned John. Martin was delighted and distracted at the same time. He was in two places as he bid the scientist goodnight. His thoughts had continued springing forth until Martin could barely register the outside world. The drone of the radio all the way home kept Martin from falling asleep at the wheel, but he never heard a word of any of the songs. As Martin drew the covers around himself in his bed, he took a particularly deep sigh and began to nod off into a well deserved slumber. One last clear thought entered his awareness just before he plunged into the void of his mind. It seemed to not be his thought at all. It was more of a memory, or a suggestion filtering past the murky fog of his thoughts from the past day. “In the beginning, there was the word, and that word was God”.

Chapter 3Martin had a restless sleep awaking a few times during the night out of this dream or that, yet too tired to move from his cot in the back of his shop. Morning came as a relief, there was an excuse to get up and drink some coffee and focus his mind. His dreams from the night before continued to make him restless. He remembered being in a foreign place in one dream, having a confrontation in another, a strange woman in another who wanted secrets from him. It all left him feeling disrupted. After he had his morning rituals of brushing his teeth and ironing his trousers, Martin emerged from his living quarters a

little more settled. As he crossed the shop to unlock the door and put his open sign facing out the glass in the door, he noticed the contraption he had liberated from John’s laboratory last night. He stopped, leaving the store locked and turned his attention to the machine. He could feel his curiosity welling up inside of him like a double espresso. Just for a moment he thought, as he carried the machine over to a lower work desk. He wanted to see the sand move again. Martin had worked with frequency generators before. His father taught him how to use them to test and repair electronics, mainly electronic clocks. He plugged the machine into the socket, then fed a line into it from his frequency generator and turned the machines on. He flipped the switch on his computer as he went into his kitchen to get a canister of salt. He liked his sugar for his coffee, and wasn’t about to use the last of it on John’s dusty old machine. Martin returned to the contraption, and poured the can of salt onto the membrane atop the device. As he manipulated the frequency generator, he raised the volume up and down until he began to see the same types of patterns he saw last night. His curiosity being as provoked as it was, excited him to the point that he realized what one of his dreams was about. He had returned to Egypt to retrace the origin of the device the colonel had brought him. Now he remembered more of the dream, but not nearly all of it, just the context. Martin quickly switched off the machines so his thoughts could collect. As he sat down at his computer, he took a long sip from his coffee mug, and he realized what he had to do. He searched for the Egyptian antiquity department online. Zahim Ismal, secretary general of Egypt's Supreme Council for Antiquities it was also known as the SCA. This was the ministry that came up as a contact regarding any stolen or illicit Egyptian cultural treasures. He photographed the antique device from four angles and sent an e-mail with the digital photos to Zahim requesting verification of the origin of the object, and describing his suspicions. His conscience seemed to be cleared somewhat. If it was stolen, he would simply send it back to them. Martin began to search the world wide web for Vedic Sanskrit alphabet symbols. On the third or fourth try he found a catalog of well defined symbols arranged in order along with more information on the ancient language and its derivatives. As Martin printed off an enlarged copy of the catalog, he recalled a book he had read on the subject while in university. The author describes Vedic Sanskrit as written in hymns, each page a song. As legend has it, the Vedas teach through oral tradition from generation to generation for over 3500 years that a race of “God Men” brought Sanskrit to earth as a language of musical tones. A thought struck him. What if the tone generator apparatus could be controlled more deliberately to create the Sanskrit symbols depicted in some of the many ‘as yet to be translated’ recorded samples from artifacts and ancient tablets. Much of what has been found predating the ancient Sumerians has never been deciphered. The knowledge passed down through the ages has not left enough of the key to reverse engineer much of what has been unearthed. Martin recalled a word John had mentioned last night. “Primer”. Libraries of ancient information could be made available to us from a time when these ‘God Men’ still openly walked among us. Martin brimming with excitement resolved not to have any more coffee today, he would not be able to sleep again. In the morning he would search out any information he could on the subject and see if there were any other groups doing this anywhere else in the world. Dozens of pages later, Martin shut off the printer and began to try to relax. His mind was racing, brimming with discoveries. This was too much to keep to himself. He was going to have to make another trip out to see John, soon. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered what

John had come across with his little machine. It was very simple, yet he had no idea what some of the attachments did. Intricate little levers, settings. As a clock maker he should be able to figure it out. It might be easier to just ask John, but where’s the fun in that he thought. Martin wondered if the machine had a name. As he turned his attention to his computer, he created a new folder to contain his findings on the subject. He labeled it Sand Script… That’s a very fitting name he thought. Perfect.

Morning came quickly. Martin awoke moments before his alarm as usual. How ironic he thought, for a watch maker to have a built in alarm, and not need a clock. Perhaps necessity is not entirely the mother of invention. As he opened the shop for the day ahead he remembered John had mentioned a research commitment he had coming up for about three months. He placed a telephone call to the reclusive scientist. A get together this evening would be no problem, John assured him. Martin smiled as he hung up the phone. He liked visiting John. Satisfied that the day was going in the direction he planned, Martin meandered over to last night’s coffee pot to finish the last cold cup. A blinking icon on his computer caught his attention. Better to put another pot of coffee on before he sits down Martin thought. At times the computer has kept him from eating or drinking for hours on end. As Martin browsed through the mornings email, sorting spam from the few emails from people he wanted to talk to, he noticed a reply from the Egyptian ministry for the SCA. Zahim Azreeal had responded personally. A shiver of excitement passed through him as he hesitated for just a moment before opening the email. “Dear Martin McBride, Thank you very much for your integrity, and for thinking of us. Our ancestral heritage is of great importance to our culture. Many unscrupulous persons do not fathom ancestral heritage as we do. As a result we are investigating over 40,000 reported articles at any given time, and have more than 200,000 in litigation across the world. The article you sent me pictures of struck me as one I had been working on some time ago. I took a moment to place where I had seen the symbols and a similar design before. My counterpart in India and I have been in collaboration for many years. When treasures are found in the wrong hands, it is common that items from all over the world of many cultures are in private pirated collections. As A result, I know most of my counterparts the world over on a first name basis. Murli Manohar Joshi is the Indian Minister for Ocean Technology. He has been in charge of a recent discovery in the Bay of Khambaht. They have recently discovered a sunken city off their coast that seems to predate all of our oldest notions of civilizations. The data so far indicates that the culture was possibly Vedic Sanskrit or even Sumerian. Certain archeologists are resisting the idea of course. History was written by people who want to reflect ‘facts’ that suit them, despite the facts and evidence. Excavations and radio carbon dating indicate the civilization to be nearly 10,000 years old! Unfortunately funding from outside sources has caused certain assets to disappear, and certain historical record to be adjusted. Minister Joshi has advised us that dozens of key artifacts have gone missing prior to being officially cataloged. Some of the articles that were recorded closely resemble the ‘device’ you have in your possession. The symbols are definitely Vedic Sanskrit. The article you have in your possession may be part of the missing treasure brought up from the floor of the ocean in the Bay of Khambaht. If it is, you may be holding an article 3 times as old as the ancient Egyptian civilization. I pray you understand the significance of your position. The artifact is

priceless beyond measure! I have forwarded your correspondence to the Minister in India, along with the photographs. I suspect he will want to arrange a meeting with you in the near future. If you ever happen to be in our vicinity Martin McBride, I invite you as an honored guest to stay in our ambassador’s quarters. I have an unrestricted privilege to Egyptian antiquities. I would be honored to give you a first hand look at some of our most prized, and least seen cultural treasures. Please keep me informed of any developments in regards to the Vedic device. I am most curious. Thank you, many Blessings to you,Zahim Ismal”

Martin thought to himself, that must explain the other three emails from the Ministry of Indian antiquities he had yet to open. What was he to tell Col. Alexander? The colonel had obviously lied to him about the origin of the article. Perhaps even his name. It occurred to Martin this man might even be dangerous. Zahim said the article was priceless. What if it was part of the key to the Vedic Sanskrit language cipher. Priceless suddenly had a new meaning. A sense of urgency crept over him as he contemplated the implications of all he had just read. One of the emails from India stood apart from the rest. It was marked confidential. As Martin opened it, government headings, and military seals began to adorn the backdrop of the message. It was clear that this was an official channel. The document was from India’s Intelligence Bureau. Deputy Director Dr Suresh was the title on the letterhead. “Dear Martin, It has come to our attention by my colleague and close friend Zahim Azreal, that you have in your possession a certain artifact. The images suggest it is indeed one of our ‘lost’ artifacts that did not make it to the research and analysis department with the rest of our artifacts. The fact it is not a solid object, and a machine of some kind is very exciting to us here. It is unfortunate our security measures have not prevented the theft of our most valuable treasures in recent times. Certain inconsistencies with the military intelligence participation have allowed for foreign intervention in our recovery efforts. Generals, and soldiers have no training in cultural significance, and thus can be at times less than understanding while performing under orders. As many of the newspapers have leaked, we have been undergoing an archeological effort second to none off the coast of India. Our scholars are very excitedly dubbing the discovery as the “Vedic Sangam”. This translates loosely as Collection of Knowledge, more specifically a library. A group of temples dedicated to the entirety of human knowledge has been discovered in the Bay of Khambaht, among the debris of two formally undiscovered twin cities. Modern scholars know of such a place in Egypt called the Library of Alexandria. This Sangam predates the entire Egyptian civilization by 7000 years. You hold the only known machine to exist from the oldest university known to man, dating over 10,000 years old. We have verified the images you sent with one of our site directors who originally catalogued the article and had it shipped with the rest of the artifacts from that week’s collection. The site where it was recovered is more than 120 feet below the ocean surface. As the ice age ended, our coastline receded. For reasons we have yet to discover, during the final days of the city, the occupants seemed to have little or no warning. There are human remains, among the debris as well as all of the cities amenities, tools, scriptures carved into stone tablets, pottery, and treasure as well. Nothing, it seems has been removed due to the sudden nature of the flood. One legend written in Vedic Sanskrit tells of a fire breathing dragon that nested at the base of the

great mountains. When the dragon had finally been slain, the dam burst and the waters rushed forth between the mountains and covered all of their civilization in one day. Another ancient hymn describes Krishna leaving earth, and on the same day, the water covered Krishna’s earthly city. As you might imagine Martin, we are most interested in recovering the article you found. We have actually already dispatched a representative to meet with you. Is it possible to meet you in London two days from now? Our agent would require little more of an hour of your time. All that would be required of you is a statement describing how you acquired the artifact. You could prepare much of it in advance if you like, it would save us both some time. Your co-operation is of utmost importance to our bureau and deeply appreciated of course. We hope not to alarm you, this is only a formality. We are well aware of your actions resulting in our recovery of this artifact. We hold such co-operations in the highest of regard. Your information and our meeting will be kept strictly and permanently confidential as well. My good friend Zahim Ismal has noted that you are to be his guest at some point in the near future. Due to your interest in linguistics and antiquities, I would also like to extend a personal invitation to become our guest as well. I will have an insiders tour arranged for you to examine more of the artifacts we have brought up from the Bay of Khambaht if you find yourself so inclined. I must ask for your complete confidence on these matters. For your own security, we ask you not to meet or communicate with the person who brought you this artifact under any circumstances. A separate team from our agency has been dispatched to apprehend him. If at all possible Martin, go to London for a couple of days until our agent is available to meet with you. Your expenses are fully covered any you will be reimbursed for your time and effort. Please keep the artifact with you at all times. “Finders keepers” does not apply to national treasures. However, the country that has the valid claim to the artifact is obligated to compensate the “finder” for their discovery so long as the acquisition was not made through illicit channels. I would like to thank you again Martin McBride, with most gracious and humble gratitude,Dr. Samuel Suresh ~ Deputy Director, Research and Analysis Division. India Intelligence Bureau.” At the bottom of the message was a very elaborate confidentiality clause, with a link to click upon receipt of the message, and instructions to delete upon completion of the receipt notification. Martin was at once excited more than he had ever been. He made a text copy of the email and put it onto a flash drive, then clicked the confirmation link and deleted the message as instructed. His hands seemed to take on a life of their own, executing actions in a precise mechanical fashion as though they were following a routine programmed into them. He felt a great sense of urgency that could easily be transformed into panic, but he felt a certain detachment from the sudden turn of events. Martin was determined not to let the surreal feelings overwhelm him. All of his life he had studied, worked, disciplined, done the right thing, the safe thing. So, he thought, this is what a real adventure feels like. As a checklist for his trip began to form in his mind, Martin locked the shop, flipped the sign around and drew the shades as he scanned the room for things he might require on his adventure. The Indian Intelligence Bureau was the original Intelligence Bureau. Martin had always fancied the Bond Movies. MI6, CIA. He had never thought in his wildest dreams to ever be a part of any or witness to any of that undercurrent of society. He had read somewhere how all of the other intelligence agencies were created with the direct involvement of the IB. Martin switched off the

coffee pot, kicked the power bar for the computer system off and grabbed the flash drive as he walked past the workstation on his way to pick up the apparently priceless artifact from the hiding spot in his bedroom. His instincts were controlling every micro movement, fluidly and precisely. Martin thought how well this surprise adventure coincided with his plan to visit John in London anyways. As Martin loaded the box of gear for his sand script studies in the boot of his car, a thought struck him. Would the IB have any interest in John’s “discovery”? Was this discovery even a new discovery at all, or just a personal epiphany? In all the whirlwind Martin would have to wait to search out more information about chladni patterns on the internet. Last he checked, the information was fairly abundant, with many “sound” conclusions but few applications. It was but a curious footnote in the ‘fringe’ section of psuedo-science. Martin felt the excitement of exploring a new scientific frontier welling up inside him. Adrenalin coursed through his veins as he locked the door to his shop. He wondered nostalgically if this was the last time he would see this shop for a while. This all couldn’t be that serious he thought to himself. As he turned and surveyed the unlit shop, he noticed Vivian’s clock still standing next to the door. He would give George a call in the morning and ask him to take care of it. George was a family friend with a key to the shop his father had given him years before. George had looked in on the place when the McBride family had gone on vacation. It had been too long since he had spoken to the old family friend. Not since Christmas Martin realized. It would be good to catch up with him. He had digitized all of his documents and photographs months before onto an external hard drive. One terabyte had finally become affordable, so he bought one on sale. As he sped down the lane toward the edge of town, he felt vindicated again. He would buy a new laptop when he got to London. This was certainly the occasion to spring for a more portable internet solution. He knew he would outgrow the old desktop eventually and had resolved not to buy into inferior technology until he absolutely needed to. The IB would be in touch again soon. Martin would head to the department store before he landed at John’s. First he would get squared away at a decent hotel. Nothing fancy, but he might as well make an occasion of the circumstances. Martin wondered if this feeling ever wore off for the seasoned field agents. He focused on his breathing, and the road. As he switched on the radio, an old disco tune vibrated through the speakers. Martin thought of Austin Powers, and laughed out loud. It seemed to relax him a bit. Resolving not to take any of this more seriously than necessary, he breathed deeply as the car banked into the curves with his old Citroen effortlessly. There is nothing better than an adventure, except an adventure that begins with a road trip he thought.

Chapter 4The foggy London night was warm and murky. Fog rolled off the river endlessly and poured through the old cobblestone streets as though it were filling a mold. It caused Martin to wonder what an inverted relief map of London might look like. As Martin drove up to the old Selfridges & Co. department store he recalled past trips here with his father on many Sundays. Mom was a devout Catholic, and father was more of a scientific thinker. They had an agreement about the church he recalled. It was their day apart from each other. “The boy” as his father had often referred to him, was “free to make up his

own mind”. Of course Martin would always enjoy the adventures papa had secretly planned. Mama wouldn’t speak of the church, and they wouldn’t speak of the fun they had while she was there. The church picnics were always the exception to the rule. They had to ‘show-face’ as papa put it he fondly remembered. Martin longed for the days of old sometimes. Papa would make trips out into the country where no one seemed to be about. It was on these trips Martin learned of over a dozen types of tree species, plant types. Poisonous from the edible, berries from the seeds. Dozens of animal species were always waiting for them as though they were on cue, a doe prancing through the bushes, resting for a moment just long enough for Martin to count her spots, antelope, even a family of bears once. The river papa used to take him to was the place where he proposed to his Mama. There was a tire swing hung from a branch that dangled over the river. It was all so picturesque. Quite like a Norman Rockwell painting. A myriad of lizards and little grass snakes and big bugs lined its banks waiting for a father and his son to discover them one fine sunny Sunday. It was so often sunny on their Sunday’s together. Martin recalled wondering if this was the reason they called this day “Sunday”. The tire swing is no longer there Martin recalled, as he noticed this department store has renovated yet again. The stamps and tiles embedded in the side walk remain the same though. He remembered trying to pull at one when he was still too young to have been in school as he awaited the bus with his mama. A large flashing flat screen monitor broke through his inner thoughts and reminded him that the electronics department had what he came looking for. Martin had already done his pricing in advance, and knew just what he was looking for. The smallest laptop with a full size keyboard they had. The newest model had a built in wireless networking system with the option to connect to any local cellular tower to receive internet access. This micro unit was the pinnacle of society’s advancement in technology Martin thought. He chuckled to himself as he recalled one of his many hundreds of conversations with John about Nikola Tesla. Tesla had predicted the latest computer phones, the network we would share and the repository of human knowledge and communication we would have access too. He predicted this in more than one of his press releases while promoting and raising monies for his new venture at the time, the “Wardencliff” tower. He described in detail the technology we all take for granted and enjoy today, one hundred years ago. He also described how to eradicate diseases in the 1880’s with hand made vacuum tubes and radio frequencies years before Marconi was credited with his invention of radio Martin recalled. How ironic and utterly perplexing it must be for his family that the patent dispute was so very recently settled in Tesla’s favor Martin thought. Among the many discussions that followed between him and John, Martin recalled realizing how the human race was likely not ready for such advancements so long ago. We would be extinct by now had it all gone as Tesla planned it. Martin was quite sure of it. As he cornered the block all of his senses were still in high gear, the adrenaline, the excitement and the urgency had not subsided one bit. Martin rounded another corner and headed down the street, and ducked between two buildings. He had learned this shortcut many years earlier. It opened into a small city park which used to be the front lot for the Waldorf Hotel. He took a deep breath and did something he had always wanted to. He checked himself into the Waldorf. Martin made polite conversation with the bus boy, the desk clerk and even the elevator attendant. He eventually found himself alone behind closed doors locked in his suite. For a moment Martin looked out the balcony and down at the people below. Each person had a story.

Each story intersected unknowingly with each other as they passed unaware of the group significance they shared. He savored the moment briefly and let his thoughts wander. The fog was getting cold now. A chill in the air made the dank dampness of England permeate Martin’s clothing. He moved over to the desk and unpacked his new laptop and plugged in the charger. As it booted up he rummaged through his vest pocket for the wireless code for the hotel the nice clerk had given him earlier. Martin quickly logged himself into the network and accessed his email account. No new messages. No news is good news indeed he thought to himself. Martin wondered if the IB had apprehended Col Tim Alexander yet. He would of course remain cautious until the IB advised him of the situation at hand. In the meantime, it was apparent that Martin would need to go back to the department store before they closed and get himself a new coat. Something warm and comfortable might ease the uncomfortable dampness outside. His mind wandered to the invitations he had received by email. Martin had always wanted to see India, and Egypt especially. How many people get to see such things behind the velvet rope he wondered. What an honor. He had enough money saved up to do as he pleased for quite some time. It was high time he continued his education and academic pursuits anyway he thought. If not now then when? What a great opportunity he thought to himself cheerfully. As Martin readied himself to leave, a knock at the door echoed through the suite. His imagination was tempted to run a bit as he opened the overly large door to find the bell hop smiling with an envelope addressed to him. Martin tipped him, took the envelope and opened it quickly as he stood there with the door ajar. It was a note from Dr. Suresh of all people. It was from Interpol, Martin read as he made his way over to the telephone as instructed. It was a surprise to Martin that they must have traced his credit card. Martin dialed a local number that was on the note followed by the extension. As the phone rang at the other end Martin wondered where in the city he might be connecting to. “Hello” answered a voice at the other end of the line. “My name is Martin McBride” he responded. “Splendid!” the man on the other end of the line said. “My name is Adam Craig, regional attaché for the India Intelligence Bureau. We have been expecting your call Martin.” Martin was still reading the letter in his hand as he spoke, “The bell hop had just intercepted me on my way out, lucky coincidence.” said Martin. “Your file has just crossed my desk not one hour ago. I am slightly familiar with our operations in the Bay of Khambaht, although most of my time is spent in the UK.” Adam continued. “Are you free this evening to meet at some point? Our head office is very excited to recover the artifact without delay.” asked Adam. Martin had the feeling that Adam’s question was just a formality, and he would be obliged to meet him regardless of his answer. Martin thought to himself if he could postpone the suspense for just a few hours more he might be able to examine the object more closely with John before surrendering it. Martin asked, “Might I catch up with you this evening? I have a meeting with a dear friend who is leaving for 3 months on a travel assignment in the early morning. I was hoping to keep my appointment with him if at all possible.” “Certainly!” Adam replied enthusiasticly. “In all honesty I do need a couple of more hours to come up to speed on these developments before I can do a proper briefing with you anyhow. The IB will made arrangements to upgrade your suite to the top floor upon your return. Just check in with the desk and exchange your keys when you come back. Your credit card has been refunded, and your stay is on our account.” “Why thank you very much!” said Martin. Adam chuckled, “Think nothing of it, we get a very generous discount any ways.”

“Great!” Martin replied, “I look forward to our briefing.” “We will ring you between 10 and 11 pm then.” Adam replied casually. Martin hung up the receiver and checked his watch. He could still make the department store if he hurried he thought. As Martin walked toward the door, he had the distinct impression that there was more to that conversation than there seemed. It was possible they were attempting to rule out the possibility of his own involvement before meeting with him. Martin noticed that Adam seemed to be very disarming and genuine. It was likely that each tone and subtlety was carefully selected as not to alarm him. He has the impression he was being handled. It was all so civilized, just like in the spy movies Martin chuckled to himself. No matter, he was in good hands. If the IB could not be trusted we were all in trouble Martin thought as he briskly crossed lobby and headed out into the foggy London street.

Chapter 5Martin retraced his steps until he found himself in the Selfridges & Co. men’s department. His hands quickly shuffled through the medium length car coats. It was sometimes difficult for him to find off the rack clothing due to his slender frame and long arms. Martin has always thought himself in proper proportions, although the local clothing designers seemed to think differently. French brands however seemed to be longer in the arms and wider in the cuff. The price increase was minimal compared to the alternatives such as the local tailors. Martin glanced at the price on his selection. It was a little pricey he thought. Most of his high school chums were paying for ex-wives or collage funds Martin justified. Having never married or had children, he had decided to sponsor a couple of local charitable initiatives, and otherwise he was always very frugal. The IB had decided to pick up the bill at the hotel Martin thought, thus impulse won out over prudence. As Martin rushed to the cashier the sport clothing logo for addidas caught his eye. He recalled how very similar the logo was in relation to one of the many interesting chladni patterns he had observed. It was obvious what came first, the design for the logo couldn’t have been around before the 60’s. Martin wondered if the persons designing the logo had been aware of the chladni patterns when they created it. He wondered if they had known, did they tell the corporation, or just sell them a tracing of the pattern without disclosing the impetus. Martin chuckled as he thought of the implications of a trademark dispute. As he headed down the old cobblestone streets meandering towards John’s laboratory, Martin glanced up at the street light and laughed to himself. We are not so advanced as we would like to believe he thought as he noticed the flashing hand signal on one side and the steady walking signal on the other. England is still making common use of hieroglyphics he realized. He also realized that the “new” upgraded signal lights were made of a series of led light bulbs that perfectly resembled the most popular toy of the 1970’s, light-bright. How humorous the mass consciousness had become Martin thought to himself. If someone had proposed in the 60’s that we use light-bright to depict hieroglyphics that control foot traffic on streets all around the world, this forward thinker would have been laughed at. Martin was reminded of his old science teacher who had adamantly tried to instill in his pupils that history is repeating it’s self endlessly in cycles. From fashion right through to invention. He used to describe the tartan cloth used to differentiate between the clans of Scotland for hundreds of years as

the first known type of human used bar-code. All technology has its origin somewhere. He recalled the patterns on the shells that he brought up to the surface while learning to dive off the coast of Barbados. Those markings had been very similar to a bar code as well. Its likely the fish can tell. Its likely Martin thought, much of our patented inventions have been coming from nature all along, having taken millions of years of development. Necessity truly was the mother of invention. At this moment Martin found he could truly empathize with John on another level. Had it not been for interference from the powers that be, John would have been a billionaire long ago. There were very few people in the world who can replicate his radio frequency experiments even with unlimited government budgets. John had done his work with a shoestring budget and hand crafted or rebuilt equipment as required with his own mill and lathes. Perhaps John would be just as inept at his pursuits if his budget was unlimited. Being poor can give one the advantage of being able to see things for what they truly are, and what they could be. It’s likely that he was too close to Tesla’s pattern for the good of humanity. The only difference between a limitless free energy device and a cold fusion bomb after all, was the wiring and the intent. There was something very intense about John as he would put on a tesla coil demonstration, his jaw locked, his eyes seeing in unison with his other senses. Bolts of lightning would shoot out the top of his device but he wouldn’t be looking there. He was focused on the spark gap and capacitor banks as he listened to the sounds of the frequency generator in his headset. He could optimize the machine by ear alone. He did not need to measure the streams of lightning to see if the machine was optimally tuned. The Tesla machine with its snapping sound and electricity tearing through the lab was a very commanding presence as well. It was this similar focus of energy and intensity that John had when he was concentrating on something. Quite often, he would momentarily concentrate on each and everything that came within his perception as though it was for a second, the center of the entire universe. Anyone who got close enough to the man to observe this behavior must have realized at once just how many of their own possible discoveries in everyday life had been overlooked or ignored. John would say, “Everything in science and nature that we do not currently have a grasp of, strikes us as insignificant. We are entirely surrounded by miracles but have completely overlooked most of them.” Martin’s thoughts of how petty and blind people can be sometimes welled up in him. Our state of grace is far greater than we are equipped to realize he thought. As excited as Martin was about the sand script device, he thought better of bringing it in while John was packing for his next adventure. As Martin climbed the stairs to the lab clutching the small tub of John’s favorite ice cream he stopped along the way to acquire. Martin wondered if they would have any time to enjoy some this evening. “Hello, hello!” piped John in his cheerful cockney accent. “Did you know,” he continued, “Armenia has a Stonehenge that predates the one found in England by about 4500 years?” John was hunched over his computer monitor, his nose two inches from the screen. Martin thought either he needed glasses, or he was just being extremely observant. John would answer a ton of daily email from science fans, browse the internet for the strange and amazing for a bit, and write in his blog. “I’m just forwarding my mail to a friend in the States. I can’t use any outside communications for the duration of the project.” John commented. He was referring to a new project at Los Alamos Army Base John had been sequestered for. From what little John had been able to disclose, the project involved high frequency radio waves in the zero point region of the spectrum.

John would be gone for the next three months incommunicado, contracted to the defense department to work with some of the leading scientists of the day. John and his team will be recreating a little of Tesla’s work he had confided to Martin by email. “You’re all packed and ready I see.” said Martin, as he looked down at the variety of parcels, scrolls and suitcases at the foot of the stairs. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” John muttered. His lack of enthusiasm stemmed from his dislike of being on planes, Martin guessed. “Well look at you there in your new jacket lad.” John drawled in a mocking American old western accent through a cheshire grin. “Goin’ out on a big date?” he asked. “No not tonight.” replied Martin. “I just felt like I needed to spend a little while I can still enjoy it.” “Yes, I can relate entirely. The older I get, the less conservative I feel as well. We might as well spend it than lend it.” chuckled John. “How’s the sounding board been working for you? Have you had any new break throughs?” He asked with one mock raised eyebrow. “Well, I have been having some break throughs in my line of reasoning as a matter of fact. I have been observing things differently since I began to toy with the device. I feel as though I am on the verge of breaking through some kind of fog on my very ideas of nature and the framework of this entire divine plan. It’s the most excitement I can ever remember having in my own mind in fact.” said Martin with a chuckle. “But something else is on your mind lad. Out with it, what’s on your plate tonight?” John asked. “Well, you were right about the artifact John. It was stolen by a very dangerous man I am told.” looking nervously at the floor then back at John, Martin continued, “I am under direct orders not to disclose even that detail. The India Intelligence Bureau is handling this business very seriously.” Without hesitation, John crossed the room and turned the radio on. Then he turned on a small open gap style tesla coil in the far part of the lab. Once it was crackling away softly and steadily he returned to his former chair and resumed his position. He poured himself a coffee and poured one for Martin as well. “The IB has been here before looking in on the different ideas I present. I had given a lecture to a consortium of Indian scientists and professors back in 2003. Two weeks passed, then came the knock at the door. They were very professional, polite and through. They asked me to explain to their chief science officer the specific theory behind my lecture, and my demonstrations to their countrymen. They wanted to know my theological perspective as well. They were not like the American government at all. They had no interest in the chemistry details, the frequencies used to crack open an atom, or the nature of the methods or equipment I employ to generate these effects. Their interest seemed to be in who I was, what my perspective was, and why I would find myself demonstrating secret sciences to their people. They wanted to know if I had corrupted them with visions of alchemy and war. They seemed very satisfied that I had not shown them anything that was against the Geneva convention.” He paused for a moment. Martin had glimpsed this serious side of John just a few times as demonstrations required his full focus. John smiled thoughtfully as he continued, “I found their purpose was to be protective of their most valuable resources. But unlike the western delegations, their value was in the scientist, not the science. They treated my lab with a slight indifference like I had never seen before or since. It was like they have already exceeded this level of understanding entirely. They just wanted to know what this cowboy with his loaded six-shooters thought he was doing within their flock. The impression I was left with was that of a father visiting his daughter’s boyfriend after their first date. They wanted to ascertain what I had allowed their people to perceive. That was it.” A bit of a silence followed his words as

John crossed he room and poured himself another coffee. As the moment lingered Martin could hear the tesla coil sputter in the background a bit. As they exchanged looks, John put down the cup of coffee and crossed the lab and turned it off after making notes and checking dials. The radio station was the only sound left in the building as John returned to his chair near Martin and waited for him to speak. “I feel like I am in good hands at this moment. I guess I was always in this kind of danger since I accepted the artifact into my possession. I have just been made aware of it at this point.” said Martin. “Whatever the case, I feel like I am in good hands. I expect they will capture this person before long now. They must be retracing his steps. I wont be going home again until this matter is resolved.” with a grin Martin continued, “I brought the machine with me when I packed for the trip. I figured I can replace my clothes, but I will most certainly have a project to occupy myself for extended periods of time.” John burst into laughter, “You rascal! Of course you had to buy a new coat. If your house was on fire you would drag a machine out with you and leave your clothes behind! I would have made a very similar move I would like to think. But I would grab my notes and leave all else.” John got up and grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and began to divide the ice cream. “So, you are off to parts unknown on a great adventure it would seem?” asked John. “Yes, until this matter is resolved. They say it’s a precaution, but they are looking out for my safety as a preventative measure. I have yet to return the artifact to their attaché. But they are paying my expenses for the time being. I guess I might take the Egyptian antiquities professor Zahim up on his invitation for a visit and a tour sooner rather than later. I don’t feel comfortable at the shop any more. Even before this sense of urgency I had a growing interest in things ancient, and the mysteries of the sands.” With a laugh and a glint in his eye John stood up and crossed the room, depositing their coffee mugs in the sink and ran the water over them quickly. “Well my lad, I have managed to locate some of my old research on the sands as a matter of fact. I was catching on to some pretty interesting designs and patterns when I was finally distracted from it altogether. If we had computers back in those days, I would have not been easily deterred from this body of research. Before I caught on to what I am doing in radio, I firmly believed the secret to existence lied within the patterns this machine could generate. The only reason I have not resumed this research is the analogy between radio and sound. Radio is just a higher more forceful and magical if you will, representation of the exact same principals. Any new ideas I may have for the sand pattern generator can be applied in my radio physics and lead much further much quicker. As you mentioned, the physics you are now studying is unlocking a potential for higher thought patterns within your own mind. I have exceeded the sand generator limitations somewhat and need to fill my curiosity with algorithms, and quantum semaphores these days. However, ‘limitations’ is not the correct word to use exactly. There were simpler days when I could still use the abacus to touch creation, a stick in the dirt for my scratch paper and a jungle hut was all I needed for my happiness and my faith. Knowledge is like a drug, and this knowledge is especially addictive. There are mornings I awaken in a cold sweat from a terrifying dream akin to having eaten of the forbidden fruit, and now I and all the rest who come after me must pay the price for eating of the Tree of Knowledge. I didn’t just have one of these fruits, no. I ate them all of course. And those who followed me cut down the tree to examine it all just a little further. I am not a religious man, but I believe in our Creator, our Mother the Earth and a Divine Plan. There are insights and chemistry I have touched upon in my journey that

lead me to believe that I have in fact colored outside of the lines on more than one occasion.” To Martin, it seemed that what John was trying to say to him was resonating with his inner sounding board. It felt like a strict non-negotiable forewarning. John opened the cupboard above the sink and pulled out two books. One looked like a scrapbook a little, the other looked like a diary. “It’s funny and a little ironic that I had put these aside for you just earlier today.” John said with a smile as he handed Martin the books. “As I mentioned earlier, in case of fire, I would grab my journals and notes. Since your escape included the machinery I gave you, it’s fitting you should have the manuals and notes to go along with your machine. Mind you, much of this was written in a state of sleep deprivation, too much coffee, and while being immersed in extreme electromagnetic fluctuations. It’s anyone’s guess as to how accurate any of this ‘insight’ might be, or if it’s the ramblings of a deluded post graduate with something to prove to the world. In retrospect, I did manage to prove something to the world with my study of science, magic and nature. I would like to think that one person’s careful observation of nature can break the spell of a false perception or assumption upon the entire world, to a greater or lesser degree depending upon your level of ambition and interest. These are for your eyes only my friend.” said John with a wink. Martin felt an overwhelming feeling of excitement, not unlike someone might feel if they were the first to stumble upon the Dead Sea scrolls or something of that nature. “Wow, thank you John! I will certainly go over these with the utmost care and attention as soon as I settle into my new accommodations. I can’t wait to go over this. I have also been thinking in terms of computer assisted pattern generations and such. I have all I need for a rather interesting semester in the school of life.” John sat back down on the edge of his chair and drew a few long breaths before he spoke. “I would feel much better if you would follow the instructions of the attaché for the rest of your interactions with the IB. I imagine they told you to tell no one of their involvement, or presence. Yet here you are tipping their hand. I’m sure they are just being over cautious, but heed their instruction. They have your safety in mind. I won’t ask you where you are going, just be safe lad.” John reached out his arm and tapped the journal and winked as he spoke, “I will also not be able to give you much of an idea of what I will be studying either. After all, they do foot quite a large portion of my experimental lifestyle.” With that, John stood up and bade Martin farewell and safe journey. “Keep an eye on my blog my old friend, I will add some posts as I become free of them and send you some mail. If you are free of the IB business by then, let me know where in the world you find yourself, and we can possibly get together and discuss the sands of time one fine day not too long from now.” They gave each other a stiff British hug and Martin stepped out into the night. He had put his treasured books under his coat under his arm and walked to the corner of the block briskly. He gave pause for a moment allowing his eyes to adjust to the night.

Chapter 6Martin walked briskly along the deserted streets. He doubted anything menacing was prowling about even though it was very late. He believed firmly in the idea that “Either everything was an accident, or nothing was an accident”. He chose to believe the latter. Martin greeted the doorman of the hotel with a polite nod and continued through the

lobby casually. He recalled that his room was to be exchanged for a suit and he was to present himself at the desk. The front desk clerk had changed from earlier in the evening. That had likely been the early shift Martin thought. The hours melted away when he visited with John. A glance at the clock told him it was ten minutes to three. His trained ear told him that their timepiece was losing nearly ¼ second per minute. In other circumstances he would have left his card. The attendant returned with a brown paper envelope and his key. “A message for you sir.” He remarked as he handed Martin the key and the envelope. Martin bade him goodnight as he collected the items and resumed his path to the elevator. As he strolled leisurely past the banquet hall, Martin couldn’t help but notice the lavish architecture of this historic old building. There were many details of the design of the structure that could have been studied endlessly. He could see flourishes, swirls and waves of all types. Greece, Rome, France, Ireland and England seemed to converge on this small space conspiring to create something greater than the sum of their parts. If one were to examine more closely, India and Persia were subtle yet persistent influences in the design and throughout the decor as well. For all the extravagance Martin pretended not to notice much as he found his way into the elevator. He wondered if his visit with John would aggravate the situation with the IB at all. As Martin opened the door to his new suit he noticed his luggage had been transported and arranged just as he had it in his room earlier. Martin shut the door behind him and sat down as he focused on the envelope given to him by the front desk attendant. It was addressed to him with the flap tucked in, not sealed. Martin pulled the paper from the envelope. It was an invitation to meet with Adam Craig in a suite just down the hall. How convenient Martin thought to himself. He rang the exchange written in the note and confirmed his appointment with Adam. Martin stepped into the washroom to freshen up before his ‘debriefing’. It had been a long day. The meeting was very informal. Adam tape recorded his statement after he had given over the artifact. Adam had suggested Martin take an extended ‘vacation’ until the whereabouts of this colonel could be determined. It was rather anticlimactic Martin thought as he returned to his own suit for a well deserved rest. The following day Martin traveled around the London subway. It had been far too long since he had been in the ‘Underground’. It had been far too long since he had a vacation he realized. It was dark by the time Martin had returned to the hotel after his dinner at an old diner he used to go to with Mama. He hadn’t visited these places for such a long time. He felt good to go around the old town again, although it did make him feel king of old. Martin greeted the hotel clerk as he entered the lobby. He was the same clerk who checked him in the night before. “A letter has been left for you Mr. McBride.” Martin collected it from the clerk and thanked him. He was looking forward to another well earned rest, he had gone on foot all day opting for the scenic tour as he had done when he was a boy. Martin sat down at the desk and opened the large brown envelope. It was from the IB, he had suspected as such. Inside the unmarked manila envelope was another envelope. It had the Government of India’s letterhead at the top and a seal at the bottom. The letterhead was in English Martin noted. It read, “Dear Martin McBride of Chertsey in the County of Surrey, England, Your service to the country of India has been noted. Expressly, the return of the historical artifact you contacted us in regards to on the 20th of April. It is our intention to reward your actions with a scholarship bursary towards your pursuit of linguistics and the study of historical artifacts. A trust has been initiated in your name to help you facilitate your intellectual

pursuits. This trust extends to your expenses, living and travel to not exceed the period of three months in any one country, province, or state. The trust extends to any and all travel arrangements be they by air, land or sea, and is limited to the rental only, not the acquisition of conveyances that may facilitate your journey. The trust is actively monitored by the IB for any inconsistencies with our ideals or objectives. Economy class arrangements are preferred of course. You are also herby invited to attend the Sangam of our own personal collaboration of studies in Surat. Our esteemed colleague Dr. Zahim has also extended his own personal invitation to his peoples own private collaboration of historical and cultural studies in Egypt. Our office has made the arrangements for your open visitation in other Sangam organizations where you might meet other people with similar aspirations such as yourself. These are merely open invitations and suggestions to be explored at your leisure on your own schedules if you find yourself interested. Your curriculum is entirely up to you.Your trust can be accessed by your own bank account which has been merged with the trust effective midnight this day. These invitations are not for the general public, they are for your eyes only please. Traditionally only initiates have been allowed access. Our locations, members, as well as the details therein are entirely for your eyes only. Any deviation from our directives will nullify our arrangement. Again Martin McBride, we thank you for your contribution to our efforts of preserving our culture and historical treasures. Sincerely, Murli Manohar Joshi.” As Martin placed the paper upon the desk a slow smile crept upon his face without his conscious realization of its occurrence. Wow, he thought, if he understood this letter correctly, he had just been given an unlimited credit card to travel the entire world! First stop Egypt. Martin decided as he looked at the clock excitedly. It was too late to shop for the occasion, and he couldn’t even tell John. Well, the internet was always on he thought, let’s check the flights and see just how fast we could get a plane. Martin excitedly searched for the British Airways flight list under economy. In the envelope there was a second piece of paper Martin noticed. It was from the attaché Adam Craig. Adam writes, “Dear Martin, Our subject has been apprehended and no further interaction between the IB and yourself is required at the present. Thank you for your complete and your continued co-operation on this and any possible future matters. May you enjoy your uninterrupted study vacations! Best, Adam Craig. As he put down the piece of paper, Martin breathed a sigh of relief. The only spur in his side thus far had been the nagging feeling that a dangerous criminal might in fact have dangerous ideas toward him. As his excitement returned Martin turned his attention back to the online British Airways flight schedule. After a short time he selected a flight that would allow him some time to do a little shopping and make a few important phone calls. After all, he didn’t want the neighbors or his customers to suspect anything out of the ordinary, or have any concern as to his well being. As luck would have it, he was not in possession of any of his customers time-pieces and there was very little to attend to that couldn’t be arranged by telephone. He accessed his telephone message machine and left a brief message stating that he was on a sabbatical for the time being and would resume his services upon his return. Martin wondered if this was a true statement or not. His thoughts drifted to ancient worlds and sifted through catalogues of hieroglyphs and ancient symbols. He realized that his Sand Script machine would need a proper hard shell suit case and possibly some upgrades and patch cables that may not be readily available in far off foreign lands. Martin re-examined his list and added some basic tools and parts and

pieces. John had been operating this device with rca style cables, but Martin had decided that his computer would serve him much better with its internal software tone generators and other electronic advantages. As Martin returned to his suite after furiously gathering tools and supplies for his adventure, he was very glad he had left some time before the flight to collect himself. As he heated up his new soldering iron he wondered if the pistol gripped device would raise any suspicions during his travels. He thought his tools were not likely any more suspicious than the device that he was rewiring he chuckled to himself. As he finished, he had a feeling of readiness and success. He had made a few modifications so the unit could accept extra inputs from the newer equipment he planned to use. He also had remodeled a stethoscope to accept a highly sensitive microphone. This probe was to be used to amplify softer signals using a laptop as a go between. John had thought to incorporate a good amplifier and heavy power supply into the main unit. As Martin packed his laptop in his carry-on luggage, he placed the journals John had given him on either side of it for safe keeping. He unwrapped his own brand new journal and included it in the event his thoughts needed to be put to paper whilst in flight. With two hours still on his clock before his flight, Martin called for a taxi and scanned the room for anything left behind. Satisfied that he had left the room as he had found it, Martin rolled his luggage to the elevator and pressed the button going down. He was sad to be leaving his deluxe suite so soon, but the excitement of what adventures lie ahead would sustain him for quite some time. As martin got into the taxi, he took one long last look at the majestic Waldorf Hotel. It was time to find the source of the inspiration for the elusive designs within those walls, and all other such structures Martin thought. The secrets remain to be discovered in the language it’s self. All the secrets of the universe were coded into the art, and hidden in plain sight, and spoken out loud for all of time. At least for Martin, the truth of it would be revealed. Of that he was certain.

Chapter 7Upon his arrival at Cairo international airport, Martin selected one of the many eager taxi drivers who were waiting eagerly for passengers to arrive. He asked a group of drivers, “Could one of you recommend an affordable hotel?” Out of the group one young man answered in fairly good English, “Why yes sir, right this way. I will take you there myself.” With that Martin allowed him to take his baggage toward the taxi. As they approached the car, Martin asked which hotel he would be taking him to. The taxi driver responded, “The Concorde El Salam is a very nice but affordable hotel sir.” Anticipating his next question the driver continued, “The fare will be 48 Egyptian pounds or about 8 U.S. dollars sir.” “Very good then.” replied Martin as he opened the back door and slid into the seat beside his carry-on luggage. The taxi driver meandered through the streets carefully. As they drove Martin noticed his operators permit with his name Abdel Hameed, displayed prominently upon the passenger’s side visor. Usually Martin would have chatted with the young man, but his jet lag and the excitement of his trip were wearing on him. A comfortable place to sleep was all he could think about. They had fed him well with complimentary sandwiches and snacks during his flight. As the driver deposited the luggage at his feet in view of the hotel doorman, martin handed him a ten dollar bill. He realized part way that in his excitement, he had forgotten to exchange any

money. In fact, Martin realized that he had even forgotten to pay the driver with his new trust credit card. This would definitely take some getting used to. Martin had always made a habit of never using his visa except in case of emergencies. The doorman caught Martin’s attention as he crossed the steps and approached him with a warm welcoming smile. “Welcome to the Hotel Concorde El Salam!” the heavy set older gentleman said with great enthusiasm. “May I take your baggage inside sir?” “Absolutely my good man!” Martin replied with a similar enthusiasm. He remembered to use his visa while checking into a 3rd floor suite he felt that he could jump from if he had to, yet seemed to be too high to climb from the outside. Martin had read a novel once depicting a hotel fire on the 10th floor. It didn’t end so well for the occupants of that particular floor. So whenever he travelled, he would always keep to the second or third floor for his own piece of mind. He wasn’t sure if he should feel over pampered as the elevator attendant walked him and his luggage to his suite. He tipped the young man and swiped the card through the lock on the door. There was an audible click as the light turned green. He opened the latch and stepped into the well lit room. The pale yellow walls and the Spartan wood furnishings were a fine combination Martin thought. In this climate, less certainly is more. He didn’t have time to investigate what types of pests he may encounter while in Egypt. Martin’s only concern was the current political climate, which seemed for the moment to be rather peaceful. In the morning he would contact Zahim and see how quickly he could arrange a visit with the distinguished gentleman who had personally invited him for a personal insider’s tour. The fact that he and this man had a friend in common was also somewhat comforting. Martin couldn’t wait to tell John about all of this. John was always one for adventure. In the meantime he needed to get some rest, and perhaps arrange a tour of the pyramids before his meeting with Zahim so he might not feel so much like a fish out of water. John had mentioned to him in the event he ever travelled here to visit the pyramids, he should arrange to take the last tour of the day, and bribe a guard with British pounds. He should ask to be taken to a more “interesting” part of the tour. From what John explained, much of the interesting parts of the pyramids were now off limits. As well, there were and still are discoveries never made public. The days when the archeological academics were logical were gone now. The religions and text books could not at this point be easily amended or changed. The politics it seemed kept everything as it was written quite some time ago. To include new discoveries was not up to a single nation or expedition any longer. Muslims, Christians, and scholars all had their territories staked out and everyone’s reputations were on the line. Nothing could be ‘found’ without approval and consent of each nation seated around the table of the UN these days. Long gone were the days of open source discoveries and Indiana-Jones style crusades in the quest of knowledge just for the sake of it. Knowledge had taken a back seat to politics quite some time ago. As Martin fell asleep he wondered about all the amazing secret discoveries that had yet to be made public in Egypt. Hieroglyphs and wall reliefs were passing through Martin’s overworked mind as he drifted off to a well earned slumber.

Morning came too early for Martin’s taste. A gentle buzzing of the room telephone brought him to a seated position as he slowly lifted the receiver to his ear. Complimentary breakfast would be served for the next 2 hours in the banquet hall next to the lobby. Despite his long sleep he was still exhausted. Martin realized he had been

dreaming furiously all night. It was as though he hadn’t slept at all. Horses and treasure and wall paintings were about all he could remember. Yet everything was so intense. The colors were so bright. He couldn’t quite piece it together having been awoken so abruptly. Martin dressed for the dessert in sandy colored safari style clothing he had just bought the night before in a great hurry. He was very happy that his shirt and shorts fit so well. He hadn’t tried them on before he bought them. As he went down to the banquet hall he grabbed a few interesting tour pamphlets along the lobby wall. He was tucking them into his cargo style shorts pockets when the greeter from the restaurant extended a warm invitation to their multicultural breakfast. Martin helped himself to a generous portion of each item at the buffet tables before finding a secluded table away from the commotion. There seemed to be a few different tours of the pyramids with little differences besides the restaurant and the travel arrangements. Martin selected the least professional looking tour with poor translation skills. He reasoned that this might be a tour he could stray from without being grouped in with the rest of the crowd. He had already been assured of the insider’s tour by Zahim, but his sense of adventure gave him ideas of his own. Martin wanted to have a little experience of this astounding culture prior to his meeting with the Antiquities Director. On his way out of the hotel Martin stopped at the front desk and asked if they do currency exchanges there. The clerk replied in very good English that they most certainly do. “Is this something that you might be interested in?” asked the clerk as he gestured to the pamphlet Martin was holding. “As a matter of fact yes indeed.” Martin replied. “Actually, I was wondering if you might know of a special tour, a more personal tour a friend of mine had recommended to me?”, he asked carefully. “See, I was told of parts of the regular tours that were no longer offered to the general public. Do you know of anyone offering such private tours in this area still?” The clerk was nodding profusely, as if in complete agreement with Martin’s polite query. He answered, “Why yes, my brother is in the tourism business. Much of my family owns and operates a small caravan business and stables near the outskirts of Giza. Our family rents camels and guides private persons and groups through the deserts in this area.” Martin’s eyes lit up at the prospect of having a personal escort through the pyramids. “What is it that you would like to see exactly?” the clerk asked. “I would like to see everything there is to see, simply everything in the pyramids. I want to see all the chambers not on the basic tours if I could.” Martin gestured to the pamphlet picturing the wall reliefs inside the pyramids. “Very good sir. Today is a perfect day to go. My brother can come by in about an hour to pick you up and take you to the stables. The ride by horse or camel is about an hour each way. Pack lightly and bring just a snack. Food and drink will be provided as a courtesy to you. Just one moment..” the clerk grabbed a buzzing telephone and began speaking in Egyptian. He finished his conversation and instructed one of the bellhops to attend one of the clients upstairs Martin guessed as the man quickly disappeared into the elevator. The name tag on the clerk read Muhamid he noticed. Martin extended his hand to the clerk and introduced himself formerly. He was aware the clerk already knew his name from the register, but it was the polite thing to do. After all, he reasoned, he was travelling abroad. He was to some extent representing England. As Muhamid grabbed the telephone again he glanced reassuringly at Martin who was looking about the hotel taking in the details of the lobby. He spoke into the telephone for a moment and then put his hand over the mouthpiece and asked Martin, “Do you want the full tour of all the chambers? It will mean an overnight stay inside of

the Great Pyramid.” “Yes, yes I would love that.” replied Martin. Muhamid spoke into the phone again for a moment, then cupped the mouthpiece again as he softly asked, “Do you have 200 British pounds for the soldiers who stand guard at the site? Also we need 250 British pounds for the expense of the tour.” “Yes, that sounds very reasonable.” Martin answered. Muhamid spoke into the telephone a moment more then hung up the receiver. He smiled as he looked up from the telephone at Martin. “You should go get ready now, my brother Asram will be by the hotel to pick you up in one hour from now. Make sure you bring two sets of clothes and a good hat.” Sensing his next question, Muhamid directed him to the hotel gift shop at the main entrance where he could purchase a hat and sunscreen. Martin quickly browsed the isles of the gift shop until he found a good pair of glasses, a hat, sunscreen and a travel knapsack. He briskly walked through the lobby nodding at Muhamid as he passed. Once in his room Martin quickly packed his bag with a few light items and sent himself an email outlining his itinerary in case he didn’t come back for some reason. At least there would be some kind of a trail to follow. The tourism seemed to be safe enough, but this arrangement was definitely off the beaten trail. It was not every day Martin engaged in bribing soldiers and hiring his own caravan. Where was Laura Croft when he needed her Martin laughed to himself. Just in case he had some down time, Martin thought, he would bring John’s journal for some evening reading to keep himself occupied. Asram might not speak such good English, and Martin had absolutely no understanding of the Egyptian language. As far as the written Arabic alphabets went, he was more likely to understand hieroglyphics. Just as Martin sat back on the bed, satisfied he was prepared for his trek across the sands, the telephone buzzed. Muhamid informed him that Asram was awaiting him in the lobby. Martin surveyed the room as he grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. Nothing was out of place. He crossed the room quickly and shut down his new laptop and unplugged the adapter. Waste not want not he thought as he turned his back on the room and closed the door behind him. As he stepped out of the elevator he caught Muhamid’s gaze. The clerk smiled and gestured to him to come to the desk. He introduced his brother Asram Salam. The two shook hands firmly and exchanged greetings. Muhamid explained that carrying extra money through the dessert was never a good idea so he would deposit the 250 pounds for the tour expenses into his brother’s account for him. So Martin removed the pre-counted set of bills from his wallet and handed it over to Muhamid for safekeeping. Martin asked if he might just deposit his wallet in the hotel safe while he was here. “Yes, that’s a very good idea. You can give Asram the money for the solders at this time as well. Just let him do all of the talking when you are approached and everything should go perfectly.” said Muhamid as he went to the cabinet to get Martin a key for his safe box. Martin handed Asram the money for the solders and deposited his wallet into the safe box. The clerk had one key, Martin had the other. They shook hands and bid each other good day. Asram offered to carry Martin’s pack, but Martin declined. He wasn’t used to that kind of attention. He didn’t mind carrying his own luggage. He was not the type to be waited on hand and foot. As they walked out of the lobby Asram asked him, “Is this your first time in Cairo?” Martin was relieved to hear him speak such good English. “It’s my first time in Egypt. I’ve always wanted to travel here.” said Martin enthusiastically. “Well my friend, you are in for the ride of your life. You got lucky my brother found you before you left the hotel. Every tour guide is very different, every animal is different for that matter. Our camels are very even tempered and love the

exercise. We bread them and raise them ourselves. We are going to have a very nice journey.” said Ahmed with a boyish grin. “You grew up in these parts?” asked Martin. “I was born in Cairo, but I was raised at the stables in Giza mostly. Grandfather taught us while we learned the family business. Our Aunt used to tend to our reading and writing for a few years. She would come out to the stables with our sister and we would all learn at the same level. It was easier than regular school levels, although we had never been to a regular school, we asked the other children how they were taught. We loved the stables, they were our playground.” recalled Asram with a touch of wistful reminiscence. With that Ahmed turned on the stereo of the van revealing a disco compilation compact disk inside. As the music played, Martin’s thoughts drifted to the paradox this place seemed to naturally become. The old with the new, the ancient mixed with the modern. It would be a while to the stables and perhaps an hour in the desert after that. He decided to lie back and close his eyes to conserve his energy for the journey that lie ahead. The traffic was very congested and bizarre. Martin was glad he avoided his instinct to rent a car at the airport. The Bee Gees’ hit Stayin’ Alive was belting out the speakers like it was 1977 all over again. Quite a lot of things Martin had observed made it seem like it was 1977 all over again he realized as he fell into a dreamless sleep. The sudden stopping of the jeep brought Martin to a seated position from his slumber. He had slept through the trip to the outskirts of Cairo. “Welcome to Giza.” said Asram. Feeling rested and alert he opened the door and stepped out into the hot dessert. Asram smiled and gestured for Martin to follow him under the brightly decorated crimson awning attached to a series of mini kiosks where different vendors were selling their wares. Asram led him through the center of the commotion past a central common area and into the offices of the stables. It was cooler in the shade considerably. The smells and sounds seemed to blend together helping paint Martin’s perception of this new place as though with a camel hair brush. Asram spoke for a moment to an elderly Arabian looking man who in turn gave instructions to a younger stable boy. Asram came back to the office and pulled up a chair beside Martin grinning. “My son.” he gestured to the boy in the back proudly. “My father tends to his education and trade as my grandfather tended to me as a boy in these very same stables.” “It’s a traditional upbringing is it?” Martin asked. “Well, tradition is really just what we make of it all. This is our family tradition. This is how we survived for generations. Everyone enjoys their role.” “Muhamid is an exception?” asked Martin with a smile. “Not really,” Asram grinned, “There’s always got to be at least one in every generation who goes out like a gypsy to seek his fortune and fame. He will always have a place here when he is finished exploring. He was raised here too.” As Martin watched the young lad placed blankets first, then he placed elaborate hand made saddles upon the two kneeling camels. They stood on command so the lad could buckle the saddle underneath the belly of the animal. He then had them kneel down so he could fix a small awning to two slots in the side of the saddle. The animals were relaxed and didn’t seem to mind being geared up for the journey. Actually Martin seemed to sense that they rather liked all the attention. As the boy began to fasten the water canteens to the sides of the saddle, Asram stood up and beckoned him to come to the stable. “Pass your bag to me.”, he said as they walked up to the large animals. Asram double checked each buckle and fixture on the rigging of both animals very carefully. It seemed to Martin that this was more of a test of the boy’s capabilities than a safety check. Asram gave the boy a quick smile and a nod. Then he threw the boy some coins one at a time as he said something in Egyptian. The

boy smiled ear to ear and left the stable quickly, perhaps in search of a candy vendor in the market outside. “Ready to go?” Asram asked him as he mounted his camel. Martin made the same movements and climbed into the saddle and replied in the affirmative. As if by instinct, both animals rose at the same time and they were off. Asram lead them out of the stable and down the main road. They left what little of civilization there was behind them. Martin began to learn how to loosen up his waist so he could allow for the movement of the animal without constantly engaging his stomach muscles in response to each series of steps. As Asram checked on him periodically with a knowing grin he would give insights here and there about the surrounding history and about how to ride the camels more effectively. Martin enjoyed talking to the younger man. There was no arrogance or falseness about the man when he spoke. Although it was pretty clear to Martin that he was at a complete disadvantage in most every way. As good at clock repair and computer sciences as he had become over the years, reading the sun in the sky to tell the time was an art form he had never really bothered to consider in his old life in England.

Chapter 8Good conversation always made the hour pass effortlessly it seemed as Asram pointed to the silhouettes of the great monoliths in the distance. A childlike boyhood excitement welled up in Martin as his eyes adjusted to the massive figures rising out of the horizon. Conversation quickly turned to ancient studies of hieroglyphs, legends and mythology. Asram was quite versed on his ancient history as well as his geography. His family had continued oral traditions of handing down information from as far as they could all remember. His relations could be traced all the way back to the ancient times he remarked. It felt to him as though they had always been here. Martin asked about the soldiers, if they might pose a problem. Asram assured him it would be just fine, he knew them personally. The payment was more of a formality than anything. The government was quite aware of the state of their troops. They were quite under paid and certain hand picked individuals who would of course be on their best behavior posed no security issues for the site as far as they were concerned. As they approached the plateau Asram signaled the animals to stop by the locally run souvenir shop and the two men disembarked. As Martin was forming the question as to whether or not they should be tied up, .the pair of camels sauntered off at a quick trot to the watering trough as though they had just arrived home. Martin realized quickly that the animals were at home. Martin’s unfamiliarity with the entire surroundings, had in no way extended to any of the animals or other people in the near vicinity. It was only his perception that had him just a little bit on edge. England was a world away right now. Standing before him was the seventh wonder of the ancient world. It was far bigger than any of the pictures he had ever seen could have possibly conveyed. Asram was consorting with some of the people he seemed to know quite well. He caught Martin’s gaze and beckoned him to join them. “I would like to introduce you to my good friend David.” said Asram as David extended his hand in Martin’s direction. Martin eagerly shook the man’s hand as he returned his smile. “David is the commander of the guard for this area we will be visiting over the next couple of days.” Asram continued. “You are most welcome Martin, may you enjoy

your visit here.” David replied with a very good English accent. Noticing his surprise David continued, “I was stationed overseas when I was nineteen as a British guard at the embassy in London, England.” “Ah, I see. I was wondering how it was that I feel so at home here already. Everyone seems to be speaking my language. It’s almost like I am on one of the commercial tours.” Martin said sparking the three men to laugh out loud. “This will be very unlike the commercial tours my friend. The tour groups in the secure area don’t even have one camera. There are metal detectors at the gate that intercept any kind of recordings hidden or not. Asram has arranged to make a camp in the lower chamber of the King Khufu’s Great Pyramid. The general public has not set foot in the lower regions of the great pyramids for many years now. No one from the public has been allowed to sleep in one of the Great Pyramids since I can even recall.”, said David with a low quiet tone. Asram nodded in agreement. “We will wait for the other tours to depart first and the security watch will change shift for the night. You can wander over near the group that is slowly gathering near the seated area. There is a light show after sunset. The voice of the Sphinx narrates some history on the plateau.” said Asram with a roll of his eyes and a wink. Martin smiled and thanked them warmly. With that, Asram and David continued their conversation as Martin wandered around the perimeter eventually finding a stand selling beverages. Lemon-aid in hand, Martin watched the sunset as he sipped his drink with an excited anticipation of the evening’s events to come. He grabbed a flier as he passed a tour kiosk and began politely refusing the offers of tour guides as he passed different “guides” loitering about the bus stop and main entrance. Eventually the perfect spot to watch from afar presented it’s self. It seemed to be an official looking picnic table possibly reserved for police and soldiers. At the moment though, it was empty. It started to settle down as the sun set on the plateau. The last of the “tourists” had already come through the gate. Concessions were shutting down and it seemed as though a considerable amount of police and guards had finished their shift for the night and abandoned their posts. Martin could hear the “Sphinx” over the loudspeaker quite well as the laser corresponded to the history lesson being presented. It was done quite well Martin thought. The show was automated, non-intrusive, educational and cost effective. He smiled at the simplicity of these Arabian lords of the desert. They had a very effective and distinct way about everything they did. By the time the show had come to an end, there were few people other than the last tour of spectators who applauded politely and were shown to the gates. As a night guard noticed him he turned and began to approach Martin’s table. A short whistle came from behind him and caught the man’s attention. With a nod he smiled briefly at Martin and turned to finish doing his nightly perimeter check. Looking over his shoulder in the direction of the whistle, Martin could see Asram and David still seated where they were when he had parted company. Asram smiled and beckoned him to join them. “How did you like the show?” asked David. “It was very informative, the whole idea the way it was presented was very well done.” said Martin. “What were you guys catching up on?” he asked out of curiosity. “We were debating new rumors.” said Asram with a smirk. “What my esteemed colleague is trying to say actually, is that there have been recent discoveries inside Khufu’s Pyramid at the base.” said David. Martin’s eyes lit up as he processed the information. “What kind of discovery could there be now after all this time?” he asked. “Well,” David continued, “The lower shaft has been off limits to the general public for quite some time. For a while, it went into a square empty chamber of sorts and they left it like that for most of this time.

Recently they have been using a new type of ground penetrating radar of sorts in these areas, and have re-examined everything. In the basement of the Great Pyramid, they found the chamber to have a wall with nothing behind it for quite a ways in. So, they were given the permissions to remove some more blocks. When they did, they revealed an entirely separate structure that goes as far beneath the area as the actual pyramid goes upwards. They have confirmed that there is an underground city hidden beneath the sands. However, what exists below is far older than the pyramids that exist on the top!” Asram sensed the pause and added, “We always knew that the layout of the Great Pyramids conformed to star patterns in the sky of over ten thousand years ago. The Great Pyramid aligns with Orion’s belt from that point in the earth’s history when the stars used to be in that specific place in the night sky. We have also known that the Great Sphinx aligned with the constellation of Leo of that exact same era. It was assumed that our ancestors just used an ancient foundation to rebuild something that was once there long before them. And we assumed they re-carved the face of the sphinx to suit their king of the times. However, we have been discovering new ‘light shafts’ and upper chambers based on a map that is being created by the exploration of the lower portions. The more we find, the more we can predict what is above based on those findings.” Martin realized that this tour might be far beyond his expectations. These “local” people have more inner knowledge and historical perspective than anything currently being published today. Noticing a caravan humming toward them from a distance Martin asked, “Is that the night shift?” David followed his stare and said, “It’s the archeology crew for this evening. They need to keep the tours open all day and make everything seem like it is business as usual while they continue their exploration. Not too much of this is public knowledge. During the day, a fake series of stones on a hidden door close off the new excavations to the public. There are very large spaces below where everything is sorted and catalogued. Even the rubble is carefully set aside inside the site. Even satellites have no idea what is going on below.” He gave a glance towards the heavens then towards Asram and nodded “shall we get inside then?” Perfect timing replied Asram. With that, Martin and Asram grabbed their packs and got to their feet.

Chapter 9David nodded at the various check points and bid them safe journey at the foot of the stairs of the entrance they would be using. “Let’s go quickly.” Said Asram as he shouldered his pack and began the steep climb up the stairs. Martin could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest as he ascended the stairs. The two men continued wordlessly all the way to the top. As they entered Asram told him to not hit his head, they would have to crouch down for quite a distance as they descended to the bottom. As the smells invaded his senses and the rock walls surrounded him it was as though all sense of direction had left him. The only tell tail sign was of course gravity he thought. They continued down the stairs conserving their energy for when they got to an open area. It was almost as difficult going down as it was coming up Martin thought to himself. “Here we are!” announced Asram as the two emerged from the shaft into the lower chamber. “Wow!” exclaimed Martin. “May I?” he asked as he pulled his camera out of his bag. “No, not here.” said Asram in a serious tone. “I cannot risk my self and my friends if any

of those pictures happened to get onto the internet, or if the camera got stolen. Security would tighten up, and David would be disciplined heavily and reassigned.” Martin quickly returned the camera to his bag without protest. He felt very privileged to be in the pyramid at all. “I understand completely.” said Martin as he looked about the room allowing his eyes to adjust and take in the details. As his equilibrium began to level off again and he could see the details better, he noticed there was such precision in the craftsmanship. There were beveled edges on the massive blocks. He couldn’t imagine how any of this was even conceived. Asram walked up a short ramp that led to a slightly higher level. He beckoned Martin to follow him up the ramp. As Martin approached, Asram gestured to a line in the wall where it seemed that the ground level was. “This is the point where we now believe the old foundation was before they began construction of this “new” pyramid. Notice the difference in size and style of blocks?” he asked as he gestured to a group of smaller blocks. “It’s as though they were done by two separate architects.” said Martin. “Yes, but these were also cut from this very bedrock. David and I were debating about the origin of the stones used in the sphinx. I believe that the entire monument was carved out of the rock in this very plateau. It seems logical to me from what I have seen that they built this quarry with the entire design in mind. From what I have seen of the subterranean chambers, there were massive amounts of quarrying and excavation done before anything was ever built here. I believe they used this local rock to build the sphinx, and many other buildings and tombs of the time. I, unlike many archeologists have been all through this place since I was a boy. I have been in “secret” chambers under the sphinx and all through this complex. I always suspected the sphinx was linked underground to this pyramid and the others. Grandfather used to tell us the old stories of a time before the great kings, the time of the Anunnaki. Would you like to hear the legend?” asked Asram with his trademark boyish grin. “Absolutely!” replied Martin with his own boyish enthusiasm. “Let’s go to the other room first then. It’s more suited to story telling, in fact it is part of the story. Sometimes I take this all a little for granted having grown up here. All of these “secrets” and ancient mysteries are common knowledge to those of us who have been here our whole lives. I am constantly astounded by just how little of this information actually makes it into mainstream public media. On the internet I can find so much more false speculation and self serving discussion than fact. It’s as though the truth of this place shall never be revealed to the general public, just as it was in ancient times, the old secrets still persist today.” said Asram as he took long strides down the ramp. At the lowest level he turned away from the entrance and walked up to what looked like a sealed off passage. He took from his pocket what seemed to be a hotel door key card and swiped it through a gap in the stones that the wall was made of. To Martin’s amazement, there was a beep followed by metallic clicks and an electric motor whirred as the wall swung open. Glancing over at Martin’s astonishment, Asram laughed out loud and said, “You have heard that the ancient’s had some kind of secret technology but I bet you never would have guessed that!” Asram laughed again as Martin began to realize what had just occurred and joined in the laughter as well. “The Supreme Council of Antiquities in Cairo knew that many dignitaries and officials would wish to see their recent ‘acquisition’, so they made things kind of Hollywood style. The council is the government body with most of the budget and disposable income in this area, in this entire country in fact. So, sometimes they spend a little.” Asram gave him a wink as he continued, “This passage as you notice is not like the rest. It measures 18 feet

tall and about 5 feet wide. Actually, nothing in here is like the rest. We are coming out from underneath the Great Pyramid through a shaft carved right through the bedrock.” Asram’s voice echoed through the giant seamless bedrock passage. As the two men emerged from the passageway onto a massive semicircular bedrock shelf, a breathless gasp escaped Martin’s lips, followed by an exaltation of, “Oh my God!” As the smiling Asram turned to Martin he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, and a very even and precise tone, “No my friend, not your God, My Gods.” As Martin surveyed the chasm that had just fallen open before them, Asram knelt before a control panel and turned on more lights that were installed around the bottom of the quarry. It seemed to be an ancient quarry with steps cut into the walls twenty feet down and twenty feet in or so. The entire room had to be hundreds of feet across and a couple of hundred feet deep. It was difficult to measure with his eyes. Martin was still disoriented from being interred into this ancient labyrinth his senses could only barely conceive. Not a few minutes before in the other chamber his equilibrium was still adjusting. Now as he stood upon the ledge of a sight that seemed to be the secret eighth wonder of the ancient world, vertigo was trying to take hold in his very psyche. The spooky lighting only added to the eerie and unsettling feeling that was threatening to over take him. Breathing deeply, Martin took off his pack and sit down upon it. His brain was swimming. Standing guard at the bottom of the quarry were 12 great statues! These were not like anything Egyptian he had ever seen. They seemed to be carved directly out of the living bedrock. These guardians seemed to be of Greek design. The faces, features and craftsmanship could only have come from ancient Greece he thought. It seemed to Martin that he almost recognized this place, or at least some of the craftsmanship. The upper plateau was comprised of mostly limestone blocks from a quarry nearly 500 miles away. It was a darker pinkish red color. The rock comprising everything down here was white in comparison. The difference in block size was also very evident even from the other chamber. These blocks dwarfed the Egyptian limestone. The limestone looked like bricks in comparison. The Egyptians were quite obviously not the founders of this place, but inherited it from a much older civilization. This changes everything presented on the ancient world in the history books Martin realized. Asram finished working the switches on the control panel and followed suit, and sat down on his pack next to Martin. “Incredible, isn’t it?” he asked. “This is like discovering Atlantis.” replied Martin quietly. “You’re not kidding. This has been in my back yard my whole life. Most of all of my ancestors have lived their entire lives and died here.” Asram paused for a moment, “No one ever knew the secret that lied buried here in the sands. If this had been found a hundred years ago, history would be entirely different all over the world. Who knows what this will mean to the world now.” The two men sat in total silence for some time, each of them lost in their own respective world. Martin’s gaze shifted from statue to statue. It seamed they were not all guards he reasoned. Some held weapons and shields, but others held tools or instruments. In the center was a circular platform with many symbols marked around the outside of it. It seemed they were inlaid with a different type of black stone. The quarry he judged, had begun as a massive slit into the bedrock, and then gradually expanded into the sides until the entire cavern was formed. As they worked their way inwards, they created the steps and carved the statues seated around the center platform that looked like a round table embossed upon the floor with no legs. Every so often a room or a passage is cut into upper levels of the quarry. Asram had managed to figure out the control panel and light

most of it from there. On more than one step beside the passages there were large piles of rubble that had been carefully piled there in an effort to keep the entire excavation underground. “Are you ready to see the story room?” asked Asram after some time. “Absolutely, yes.” said Martin a little bit breathlessly. “Follow me, step where I step. There are no safety precautions in this place. Did I get you to sign the waver now that I think on it?” said Asram with a grin. “I feel like I’m wavering right now.” said Martin grinning back at him. Asram led the way down a dimly lit set of stairs that emptied out onto one of the rock ledges. They walked along the ledge behind the statues as they circled the chasm until they arrived at the center of the massive cavern on the opposite side which they arrived. A short flight of stairs put them up into the central chamber set back into the rock. It was an incredible view of the entire quarry. The acoustics of this chamber were incredibly amplified. Martin understood why Asram called this the ‘story room’. The walls in this chamber had beautiful murals adorning their every inch. Hey were carved very deeply and precisely, yet quite different from the Egyptians wall reliefs. These were much more three dimensional than the Egyptian reliefs, resembling beings as a camera might accurately portray them. Also they seemed to be more of a Greek style, being somewhat exaggerated with their cherubim like features. There were three main murals in the key-hole shaped chamber. One mural was etched upon each long side, and a curved one in the back. There were smaller panels that separated the murals. The open faced entrance was flat and wide. Martin noticed even their steps echoed across the main quarry chamber. There was a semicircular platform that jutted out a few feet from the opening. In the center of this platform was what appeared to be a perfectly round pedestal sink with a hole in the center like a drain. The sink stood upon a narrow tapered pedestal nearly three feet in height. Asram went to the back of the room and drew a deep breath, “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a great race of giants!” His voice boomed across the quarry with such force Martin didn’t know if it was coming from inside his own skull. Asram noticed the startled wide eyed look on Martin’s face. He smiled then gave Martin a mischievous wink. He lowered his thundering voice substantially and continued, “Our story this evening begins with the Anunnaki. Long before man roamed this planet, the Anunnaki were a race of giant men and woman who were direct decedents of the stars.” Martin realized the main event had just begun and slipped his pack from his shoulder to the floor and sat down upon it without breaking his stare at Asram. Asram paused to take a deep breath, then he continued, “For eons, they lived here and there in peace. The ruler of the Anunnaki divided the lands between them based upon what their interests were and who were more social and who were not. These ancient beings were created so long ago that there was very little that was not given to them. They were magical by nature. Each was created from raw elements, earth, fire, air, and water. Depending upon which of the elements were strongest in them, they would have special abilities over and around that element. Since there were so few in the beginning, they were all family, all equal. They were Mothers, Fathers, Sisters, Brothers, Sons, and Daughters. They were an immortal race of beings that knew not death. They lived so long, the distinctions between family members were not so important to them, as long as there was no treacherous intent. There were very few laws since they needed no resources, they were beings of light and sound waves. The Anunnaki were magical in nature. They could conjure up anything they felt they needed. Anything they wanted they did not have freely grew in nature. There was no want for anything, no need for currency

or government. They lived for thousands of years in relative peace and harmony. At a certain point, man was introduced to the earth, and the elder Anunnaki were sworn to protect them as they grew in places separate from them. From time to time they would interact on special occasions, or during troubling events. As centuries turned into eons, eventually some of the Anunnaki grew discontent and began to break some of the basic rules. Once this began, there were no police or military or defenses to prevent widespread disruption. There were no records of any previous such events to indicate or predict just what would happen next.” Asram paused briefly for effect, he then continued in the same low but dynamic tones. Asram put to use the room’s massive acoustic generator with the superb skill of a master story teller, “A difference of opinion began to deteriorate the immortal bonds that had held this first family of earth together. Man was the last of the creations to be perfected by the Anunnaki. For thousands of years together, they had created the animals, even monsters. The Anunnaki had created and destroyed, observed and eventually found the balance they were in search of. Then when they felt they had perfected their art of creation, they created man in their images. Just as they had divided the earth among them, they had divided the plants, animals and the tribes of men. Together they all shared the earth. As man grew in his abilities to conceive and understand higher forms of awareness, the Anunnaki grew increasingly ever more fond of mankind. There were rules governing the perception of man. If a society had been exposed to concepts too far beyond their limitations of reason and compassion, they would invariably war, at first with each other, then with their keepers. Tribes would use their enhanced perception to create weapons and conquer neighboring tribes. They would defeat their enemies, and grow in numbers. As they grew past the point of being able to settle their differences, the larger tribe would then war amongst each other. In this way their modified perception and natural warlike traits would spread across the earth like a plague. Entire tribes had to be destroyed or confined by the Anunnaki. This was met with resistance by the Anunnaki who was the care taker of the tribes who had been corrupted. New tribes were formed from those who were spared destruction and the same mistakes would be avoided in the tribes to follow. Some of the more advanced tribes stood to lose far more than the more docile peaceful tribes. Some of the Anunnaki had venerated themselves among their people to the status of gods. When the high council tried to resolve the issue, there was no clean fair way to put everything right. Man’s intelligence was underestimated by all. His ability to adapt and destroy without mercy was also unforeseen. It was decided by the leader of the Anunnaki that the most violent and destructive among them would need to be slain that the rest may enjoy peace. Since all of the members of the council had interfered to a large degree for all of time in the affairs of their tribes, they had grown to love them and favor them immensely. There was strong opposition from many of the twelve council members. They were not about to allow their favorite men woman and tribes be destroyed. They Loved them. Over time it was common practice for the Anunnaki to change their form and take a mate they had grown to love and admire. There were many children of the Anunnaki among man. It was their misguidance that was responsible for the impending destruction of their human children. Realizing their mistakes too late, their grief was inconsolable. It was this turning point that was the cause of the Great War of the Gods. In this universal war, the works of man and the gods were brought to rubble. The younger Anunnaki had an evolutionary advantage. They had the benefit of perspective insight and genetics. They also had less

attachment to the now terribly corrupted species that walked the earth in their image. As the war raged on, this new generation swept the lands and reduced the old monuments and cities to rubble. Assassins swept the lands and severed the most evil and dangerous of them all from the tree of life one by one. Plagues were introduced that poisoned the earth and animals so who ever would take them into their being would cease to be immortal and grow weaker every day until they would fall to dust. Even the sands were turned from white to red. The great libraries were sacked and burned. The earth herself churned up the seas and rumbled the ground and divided the continents that not one thing be recognizable as was decreed by the highest of the council members. Although there were twelve members of the Great Supreme Council, they were still under the authority of their leader. For all of the twelve members great power who sat at the table, their power was subject to and limited by the very table at which they sat. The Great Mother is the table, and all other things reside inside of her. She and her alone had the power and authority to command. Her cooperation with the younger generation ensured their eventual victory. Some of the twelve had forgotten their place, forgotten their true nature. The counsel had forgotten The Great Mother and her law. As the dust of the most destructive violent war of the universe before or since settled upon the mortal planes of planet earth, the Anunnaki would create new laws in an effort to prevent future out breaks of the innocent becoming contaminated or conquered. The process of creating a civilization was tedious and took much time and effort. Some of the difficulties were solved by the destruction of the city’s themselves, and their collective information was destroyed and their wealth was dispersed. This served to limit their ability to contaminate other tribes with advanced tactics of war and evil. It was decreed that the Anunnaki must withdraw and recede into myth and legend. However, as magical beings made of pure light and stardust, they could change form and still secretly interact with their children. For a time, all was well. However, not all of the Anunnaki heeded the new laws. Some would interfere more than others, and inspire them to create war in an effort to gain a revenge for past events that were so far in the distant past, their reasons were only known to the Anunnaki. All traces of the Great War had been removed. Nothing remained except a scattering of the tribes who were reduced to a state of hunting and gathering with no recorded histories, except that which was passed by word of mouth down to the future generations.” Martin was astounded by the story being related to him by this young Egyptian man who seemed inexplicably wise beyond his years. His mind raced back and forth to ancient mythology as related to him by books, and his various headmasters as a boy. As Asram gave pause to his story for the moment. The echo in Martin’s brain continued as he stared out into the quarry at the twelve stone beings seated around the circular disk on the floor. There were other great statues among them. These were sphinx. They were female, carved of an ivory white stone. They were no more than 8 feet tall and seemed to be about 12 feet long. They were each slightly different. Their facial features were unique. They had wings folded back along their muscular lion bodies. Their posture was upright, attentive, and distinctly majestic. They were naked with no jewels, crowns or other adornments. Their breasts were perfectly carved and proudly exposed. Their gaze was level, their eyes open wide. “Incredible..” Martin gasped. His voice still carried as though it had been amplified and replayed instantaneously. “I can’t believe I’m seeing this with my own eyes, and I can’t get over the acoustics in this chamber!” Asram smiled and replied softly, “I know. This doesn’t wear off for me either. I feel like I am seeing my

legends, my creators come to life in this very place since it was discovered a year ago. I wonder if they knew it was here and just kept it all shut, or if we are among the first to see this chamber created long before the Great War of the Anunnaki. I can only imagine what they discover as they clear the blocked passageways. Every second week it seems they are uncovering new vents and areas in the upper levels of the Great Pyramids. I guess the technology of our time is pushing the puzzle pieces into place after over ten thousand years.” “What new vents are they discovering upstairs?” asked Martin gesturing upwards with his eyes. “Well, it seems that the stars were aligned with certain vents. Once two were discovered, an astronomer calculated the possible positions of other major star locations based on the first two vents. He made a computer model and submitted his findings two years ago. Since the new radar machines they are using have been in use, they have used helicopters at night to take images in relation to the astronomer’s model. Dr. Astrolabes has been very insightful it seems. Based on his new discoveries, they are coming up with new ideas and theories. And of course undiscovered chambers are located at the bottom of these small shafts. It is changing the way the academics are looking at this structure. It is now believed that this place had a special function in the daily life and routines of the peoples of this time.” “Wow, how much of this inner discovery is known to these academics?” Martin asked. “Very few academics have been invited here at all. They are a very ego driven opinionated bunch. Our government wants no outside interference in this matter at all. This is considered the most holy discovery for many years now, of all the sites in Egypt. There is massive resistance to make this public knowledge. In fact, I would be on trial for treason if it was known that I had brought anyone down here. Your full discretion is appreciated.” said Asram in a very quiet serious tone. “Yes, of course. I will not repeat anything or mention this place to anyone at all. Your secret is safe with me, on my word.” said Martin as he put his hand over his heart in a solemn gesture. “Actually, I would be honored if you share our legends with anyone who might listen. It’s how we keep our ancestors alive. It’s how we honor our Anunnaki Mothers and Fathers. Would you like me to continue the story while we still have this wonderful space to tell it?” asked Asram with a wink. “Absolutely, you have my undivided full attention.” said Martin as he gave the quarry another quick scan setting the tone in his mind. He sat back against the wall preparing himself to be transported to the ancient sands of Egyptian antiquity that inspired the entire world thereafter. Asram drew a deep breath and began, “Much time elapsed since the rubble had settled from the Great War. Anunnaki and man still interacted, and began to resume their activities bound by the new laws that had been set to protect the Great Mother’s children from absolute corruption. As years passed, the tribes of man formed nations again. They once again began to collect information, and share knowledge. Their arts were inspired equally to keep the balance of the mind. Different men and women over time would inspire the Anunnaki by their various deeds and creations, to change their light form and interact with them on a human level. Their heroic deeds, their literature, their music, their artistry would gain them favor of certain members of the Anunnaki. As their children grew and lived a full life, they were taken to the court of infinity. The worthy would be granted places among the Anunnaki, among the stars. Different fates would await those who did not pass for different reasons. No one was lost, all were put to a divine purpose. The terribly evil and distorted souls were placed in a dream state where they could act out their violence and rage and evil. The Anunnaki would study their

behavior to increase their understanding of the human conditions. Some were so tortured that they needed to be strapped into a machine of great resistance. This machine would generate the power required to power the dream machine that sustained them while they exercised their rage, or their lust, or their greed. In this way, each soul paid for its own experience, thus their efforts can be observed without a cost to the rest of the collective. In the end, even the most evil of soul has lessons to portray to those who still sit upon the fence of light and darkness. Over time, the numbers of souls generating power have out numbered those who fell towards the light. In the end of this age, it is said they will power the entire universe from their prisons, that the rest may be free and labor no more in the end of their days. In this way, those who lusted for power have got their entire wish for all of eternity. They shall have it all. Those who desired peace and freedom by the same device have also been granted their wish ever more. Those whose ambitions turned to the light were given even higher positions, sometimes in the heavens, sometimes on earth. However it was decided they would best serve their divine purpose. It is said they are the growing choir of angelic beings set back upon us here on earth to inspire by way of insight and metaphor, example and sacrifice. Yet, through it all, the Anunnaki continue to secretly interact with us. It is said that once the nations were evolved past the point that they were prior to the Great War, the High Supreme Council would be allowed to bestow certain gifts to their favored tribes. After a short period, they must again retreat into the realms of mythology. It was agreed during the period just following the Great War that The Great Mother would not enter a direct conflict again unless certain laws were violated exposing mankind to the horror of Anunnaki war again. As the time has gone on, a similar corruption began to emerge at this point. Not all of the older race of the Anunnaki were destroyed during the war. Some were spared, having fought alongside their younger counterparts. Some were imprisoned, turned to stone until the end of time, pending the outcome of the current cycle of man. The imprisoned old ones are very powerful, even from their prisons of rock and stone. They reach out with their minds and attempt to sway mankind to their corruption and destruction. They still have unwitting followers who make sacrifice to them, and attempt to consult them directly for direction and leadership. Mankind is inherently weak. They have forgotten their divinity, and on occasion can be found to be worshipping anything they consider as greater power than themselves. So, lines of tension between light and darkness exist. The Great War continues still. When the Anunnaki came back to the ancient Egyptians responsible for the megaliths still in existence in Egypt, they came bearing technology, astronomy, medicines and science. The information given to them was carefully screened and decided upon by the Supreme Council before they brought the ancients this technology. Their final decisions were passed before The Great Mother before they brought this higher level of perception to them. The Great Mother had always refused to seat herself as one of the Supreme High Council. She preferred to be in other places, having a more direct and indirect role in the evolution of Mankind. The Anunnaki took the position that they were presiding over the evolution of mankind, who were their creations after all. The Great Mother was presiding over the entire evolution of The Anunnaki, and Mankind was just an extension of this entire process for her. On innumerable occasions, she would intercept her offspring as they proceeded to mate and interact with man and woman. It was She, unbeknownst to them who mothered their children. It was She who could be in millions of places at once. The Anunnaki had mistakenly thought that she was of similar

design to them. It is unlikely that they conceived of her true nature until far later in their history. She is Mother, Wife and Daughter to many of the Anunnaki, our people know her as Aset. Greeks know her as Isis. Rome knows her as Venus. Persia knows her as Al-Uzza. India knows her as Dirga. In Christian faith she is known as Mary. She is known as the goddess of ten thousand names. The legends of old report various many light or dark depictions of her character, depending whether they were found to be in their favor or not. In Egyptian hieroglyphics, she is represented as the Throne, the Hawk, or the Loaf. It is said that when a being is to be destroyed, her scream is the last thing they will hear, and her face is the last thing they will see as the fire from her star embraces them.” Asram had been raising and lowering his voice masterfully like he was born to tell this story in this eighth wonder of the ancient world, underground bedrock amphitheater. It was as though he had repeated it a thousand times in front of ancient tribes gone past as though he was the ancient priest himself! Martin applauded quietly not wanting to amplify the harsh sounds at all. “That was magnificent my good man, magnificent! I have never heard a more superb story in all my life Is this the story your father told you when you were a boy?” Martin asked, keeping his excitement in hushed tones as though he didn’t want to reveal a secret of great importance. “It was my grandfather who retold the story to us when we were young. I wish dearly he had lived to see this place. My father cried when David and I brought him here just after its discovery. You see, when David was a boy, his family was really poor. His father had died in a meaningless protest. This is why he had to enlist in the military so young, so he wouldn’t be a burden upon his mother. Our family would make him one of our own when he was around. This is why we are allowed here this day. David is repaying his debit to my father.” Asram looked around the room slowly before continuing, “This place is sacred to us. This story is sacred to us, and we are sacred to each other. As I watch my wife vacuum the carpet, I think to myself about the hieroglyph for Throne, one of the three hieroglyphics of The Great Mother Aset. It looks just like our modern day vacuum. It reminds me just how lucky I am to have a wife, a miniature copy of The Great Mother in my very own house. As she pushes the vacuum all around our house I am reminded of just how many “Asets” I have all around me. I have always had. Everything is sacred, or nothing is.” Asram ran his fingers across the carvings upon the wall immersed deep in thought for a long moment. Martin had never felt so in tune with his own reflections in his entire life before. For the first time in his life the mysteries that had plagued his mortal mind seemed to be unraveling. A distinct calm began to overtake his psyche. The figures upon the wall seemed to be swimming, coming alive. His relaxed state of mind mad no attempt to correct the impossible visual input at this point. His mind had been taken to the outer limits of his comprehension. It was all simple enough, but difficult to conceive the fact that this was real. He was here, in this ancient chamber with this Egyptian who was representing the entire nation, his entire people’s history all the way back to the beginnings of time. This person, Martin realized was telling his own legend, just a little while before his own ascension into the stars. Here he was walking the earth for the last time upon mortal legs, inspiring the people he touched as he pointed out the sacred and the sacrificed. So very much history and sacrifice has gone into the making of this very moment that Martin may take his seat in the hall of these eternal stars and bear witness to it. This surreal moment seemed to stretch right outside of all of space and time and reach inside of him touching Martin’s immortal soul. Having regained his own composure,

Asram made a welcoming gesture with his hands, as though sensing Martin’s thoughts. “Are you ready for part three?” he asked softly with a gentle smile. “Of course, please continue, yes.” replied Martin as his thoughts were brought back into focus. Asram centering himself in the room gave Martin a slightly mischievous smile as he drew a long breath and continued, “So as it was written at the end of the war, it was to be carried out. The Great Mother presided over the final conference of the Supreme High Council. As she heard each in turn, she gently nodded her approval of each of the gifts for each of the tribes, now nations of Mankind. The timing was approved as well. The meeting was put to rest and the Anunnaki set about their respective missions. Different delegations approached different nations in the way it was decreed by unanimous decisions of the council. An abundance of art, musical instruments, architecture, mathematics and science were bestowed upon the all of the nations of earth. Certain machinery and chemistry and medicine were given to them in turn. The elders and the common man were all addressed publicly that no one group would hold any power over another. All were allowed to attend. All were given a course in altering their perception in ways defined by the treaty of the Great War with only the exclusions as approved by The Great Mother. Initially all went well. However, perception is a tricky and very delicate state to predict, define and control. Soon after the initial visit, which was to be the last intervention by the Anunnaki, ideas formed by some of the nations began to go against the intentions of the Council. Certain nations began to assemble ideas and legends from the pieces that they were given. The interaction was meant to be enlightening, however, the knowledge of the old ones, and the old ways began to creep through the nations like an unstoppable evil. The influences of the old ones who awaited the Trial of Mankind to decide their fates, were bound by no treaty and they had nothing to lose by encouraging discord and destruction among all of the nations. Soon the nations were again at the brink of war. They had taken their gifts and combined the medicines, experimenting upon their own people until elixirs were discovered at the expense of their own children. Inventions of enlightenment were combined with weapons and each other to create devices unforeseen by the Anunnaki. The sacred music was combined with drunkenness and debauchery of every kind. Gifts of literature were used against the nation’s children to confuse and enslave them. Each in turn Egypt, Persia, Greece, Rome attempted to take control of the entire world by force and war. As the lessons of Babylon and Atlantis receded into the distant memories of Mankind, those same lessons began to frequently gain attention at the table of the Supreme Council of the Anunnaki. Year by year they became increasingly mortified. Eventually it was decided that the same result had occurred. Be it sanctioned from The Great Mother or not, they had repeated the same mistakes of their forefathers. Man had become corrupted. Their ego had outgrown their heart. But, there was much beauty in the world. There was now too much attachment to these beings, the new children of the new Supreme Anunnaki Council. The new laws and treaty was to prevent either them, or The Great Mother from interfering in the ways that had brought the Anunnaki to war so long ago. There are always two sides to the agreements beings make though. The spirit of the agreement was the general nature of both party’s intentions, all things being equal. However, all things were no longer equal. Now the spirit of the agreement would be cast aside for a more technical approach wherein the parties would now mutually seek any and all ways of defeating the agreement while still maintaining the truce. And so the Anunnaki and The Great Mother began to set upon Mankind. “Let vengeance be mine!”

said the Gods, and so it was with this decree they descended upon Mankind. Assassins, antagonists, false prophets, and enhanced generals began to encircle the globe. A quiet war against the darkness that had been allowed for too long to flourish in man’s heart had begun. The earth would not shake them to their foundations this time, the floods would not cover up the lands, but the waves would rise, the winds would blow and the ever present fires would rage. The sons and daughters of the Anunnaki were first to be singled out for service. Influenced quietly by their parents to rise against the darkness coming for them, they would rise or fall from grace. Everyone in the family was enlisted, no one was told of the stakes at hand. It was one of the principals that The Great Mother’s new law forbade. So, as the war raged onward, none knew the consequences. It was all reduced merely a set of choices to be made without the time to think or predict or plan. The Anunnaki knew of their true heritage and divinity. But their children did not. To be born the son or daughter of a god is one thing. To rise up and lead or fall as a mortal, is entirely another story altogether. And so the stories were written. Thousands of stories were written. The worthy stories were etched into the living skies. The level of acceptance into the heavens had been raised substantially. This was the penalty for their arrogance and dark tendencies. Had it not been for their great beauty, virtues, music and artistry, it is unlikely any would have been spared at all. The Great Mother had no seat at the table, and was exempt and uninterested from much of the bargain. As it was written, the younger generations of the Anunnaki had not any idea of their true nature, therefore the Great Council had not written any of the agreement to limit their true natures whatsoever. Although she largely stood outside of the agreement, the actual “truce” as it was called, was not between the different factions of her children. It was to establish peace between her, and her creations. At any point in time or space, it was her who decided the fates of all of her children. There was a strict system in place so she might allow them all to evolve. It was important to her that they believe that they had achieved this on their own. She preferred to be seen as a peer, not their beginning and their end. If they only knew her true nature and position, she would be at the center of every single disagreement in this entire universe. However, these were all her children, every single one of them. On occasion she found herself secretly changing the tide in conflicts that were about to become overly disruptive to her favored children. She kept much of her activities to herself. The Anunnaki who knew of her nature were sworn to secrecy. So, in this way the war is fought from then until now, and it still persists until the end of the cycle. When the end of time arrives, she will reveal her true nature to everyone, Anunnaki, and Mankind alike. It is said that the children who have seen her are truly blessed and eternally protected in this life and the next. In the end of days she will call each name in turn as she sings the last song of our age, pray she sings it sweetly during her songs. For if she uses the screech of the hawk to call upon a wayward soul, it’s the last thing that being shall ever hear.” Martin was blinking back tears and applauding whole heartedly as Asram took a deep bow with a flourish of his hands. “My good man, I cannot even begin to tell you how your story has transformed my thoughts!” With his usual smirk Asram gestured to the entrance as he remarked, “You can buy the CD at the kiosk near the main gate as you leave.” Martin laughed as he nodded in agreement, “I actually would buy that performance on disk. I can’t imagine how the effects of this chamber would ever be given justice on any type of recording though.” Martin was relieved that Asram was such a masterful teller of stories. The reality of the cavern was

still and would always be overwhelming for him. His mind was racing back and forth reassembling pieces of history he realized. The Anunnaki must be the “God Men” that the Sumerians were describing from ten thousand years ago. Perhaps the artifact Martin had returned was of this very time period when these monuments were erected he thought. He may have been holding in his possession an artifact of the Anunnaki! Perhaps it had once even been held or even created by the Anunnaki themselves. It was no surprise that the level of sophistication was beyond anything imagined by the current day scholars for that time period. History had not been accurately recorded and described, to anyone. Perhaps it was meant to be this way, so Mankind could continue in relative peace for now. Their ignorance is their bliss. Perhaps, he thought, the Anunnaki helped to deliberately mislead the scholars so that the nations could continue to exist for a time longer without the devastation of war. Perhaps history was just that, His-Story, the story of Man-Kind. What seemed to be passing down from Asram to Martin tonight was Her-Story. The story of The Great Mother. The most unappreciated and unacknowledged character of all of Man-Kind’s His-Story. Martin was on the verge of realizing for the first time in his life just exactly what fundamental truth the ego had been keeping from the mind of man for all of time with very little exception. Man, was not Kind. We were never put here to write His-Story. We have been writing Her-Story, and making a damn fine mess of things. Martin’s blood ran cold as he thought of the implications, the microcosm is the macrocosm! There seemed to be a limited amount of genetics or personality types Martin had noticed in his life. Geneticists say we were all descended from 13 mothers in the beginning. Could this be why this person reminded him of that person from place to place? Could this be why his ex-wife reminded him in a dozen different ways of his high school sweetheart. Was this why she shared so many traits of his Mother? And of his Grandmother? My God, Martin thought, if Asram’s legends are true, we are the Anunnaki!

Chapter 10The two men looked around the room at the different wall reliefs. Martin noticed a series of geometric patterns that adorned the top of the chamber like a wallpaper boarder. There were swirls, stars, crosses, geometric patterns. Martin was slowly becoming aware of the fact that all of these symbols resembled the patterns he had been studying furiously since he got the artifact from Col. Alexander on that fateful day. Pointing to the symbols, Martin asked excitedly, “What are these markings?” his voice boomed across the chamber far louder than he had intended. In a more hushed secret tone he continued, “I have seen these before, have you?” Asram looked at the symbols Martin was gesturing to then slowly back at Martin and asked, “I never asked you what you do for a living, have I? What is it you do Martin? How have you come to know these symbols, they have never been published?” Sensing his concern Martin tried to reassure him he was not one of these “scholars” that they had been trying to keep from their findings. “I own a clock repair shop. A friend of mine is a scientist who had given me a device he made in his youth. This device can vibrate plates of sand with different tones that reveal patterns in the sand just like these.” said Martin as he gestured to the symbols that lined the entire walls above the wall reliefs in the chamber where they had been sitting. Having been

under instructions to keep quiet about the nature and the details of his cooperation with the IB, Martin saw fit to leave out a few details he wished he could share with Asram. Not entirely convinced Asram asked, “So, this is a hobby? Is this why you came to Egypt then? To see if you could find these patterns you study?” “Yes, partly.” agreed Martin. “I was also invited.” “Ah, I see. You know people in Cairo?” asked Asram. Martin replied quietly, “I have met just one person online actually. I wanted to go over some of my own private research with a friend of a friend.” “What is it are you researching then?” asked Asram. Martin thought for a moment and then replied, “Actually I have been saving up for a sabbatical for some time now. I decided to give a few places of historical interest a visit. Lately I have been studying a possible relationship between the patterns in the sand, and the Vedic Sanskrit language. I thought perhaps there might be more to all of these ruins than meets the eye, and I needed to see them for myself. My interest is really nothing formal, just an opportunity and an intellectual curiosity for me.” Martin’s answer seemed to disarm Asram’s apparent concern. Martin wondered if he was worried that he would publish these findings or break his word. Asram seemed to accept his answer at face value and returned his attention to the wall where Martin had gestured. He looked carefully around the room and along the corners of the wall for a few moments before he spoke. “Can you tell me what this means? Can you read this language?” Well, I think I might be able to give it a try, but it will take some time, and I will need to use my laptop to do it.” “Great!” said Asram with his former youthful enthusiasm . “Did you bring your laptop by chance?” “I most certainly did.” confirmed Martin as he probed his bag for the small hard case that contained his brand new mini laptop. He opened it up and made a table of his pack while the system booted up. When it was ready, he loaded up a modified version of his special spectrum analyzer software that he had procured from John. Martin had been assigning pictures and shapes to the tone that generated them. He had spent many hours reverse engineering the Sand Script machine’s cryptic information. The program allowed him to save the tones in a type of external sound file. Then he would make a shortcut of the file so he could assign it a unique icon. In this way, he had been creating something of an instrument. It was crude, but effective. Martin had no more training than the average computer repair technician. However, he was able to use software and manipulate the operating system to create automated functions, simple robotics, and so on. Although he couldn’t write the code directly, he was skilled in the art of using software to control other software. Although he didn’t have the Sand Script machine with him in this amazing acoustical chamber, he could still go through his catalog of picture tones and attempt to sound out the some of the meanings of the symbols upon the walls of the chamber. Asram looked upon the screen as Martin quietly explained it to him. A triumphant smile began to grow wider upon his lips as Martin demonstrated his ideas. Asram lapped up all of the information as though he was a boy in his Grandfather’s story room again. Martin felt a glimmer of pride as he realized that he was enabling Asram to continue in these studies on his own now. He would comb this entire place in search of new meanings and old legends for the rest of his life. As the Anunnaki had learned the hard way, perception of man is a very easy thing to adjust. And it is also absolutely impossible to put back into the box. Pandora’s box, thought Martin, was possibly a clever metaphor for the state of mind one could find themselves in if they were to reach too far into the secret libraries of the Gods, or as John described, having eaten the forbidden apples. When Pandora opened the box, she released all the evils into

the world. The only thing that stayed in the box was hope. Well, hope was something Martin had an abundance of lately. As Martin pushed the icons for a few successive shapes on the walls, the tiny laptop was amplified quite dramatically by the room. Asram stood up and gestured Martin to relocate to where he had been standing during his story. “The sweet spot in this chamber is right here.” He said as Martin scooped up the makeshift table and moved several feet over. As the simple tones came to life, Asram and Martin were experiencing the thrill of being on the verge of one of the greatest discoveries in many years anywhere. Martin had an idea to make things more fluid. He opened a new folder and began to make copies of the sounds and file them into the folder in order they appeared on the walls. Once he had assembled about thirty or so, he began to play them in order one after the other. Both men exchanged looks of astonishment as they listened to the tones coming out of Martin’s little laptop. The amplified resonance in the chamber began to play a crude clipped song! As Martin progressed down the list of shapes he had ordered in the folder the song continued. On occasion there was a missing note because Martin’s library was far from complete, but it was very obvious to both startled men that this was most definitely a song. Not only was it a song, but it was possibly the oldest surviving sheet music ever recorded. It was possibly the first song known to man! Asram’s features took on an entirely childlike appearance as he listened to the ancient hymn. Martin surmised that his features must have lost their expression as well. “Shall I play it again?” Martin asked Asram. “Yes.” Was all he seemed to be able to whisper. Martin keyed each symbol in turn recreating the sounds. The chamber amplified the tones as though they were made for each other. The two were wide eyed in astonishment. Martin finished his sequence just as he had played it before. As they both looked around the room, they pointed out repetitions in the different symbols, and began to piece together possible ideas how the different musical pieces might fit together. The symbols framed each scene and corners of the chamber. None ran along the floor. Martin remembered the symbols surrounding the “table” between the colossal statues in the quarry below. The chamber was situated just above their massive stone heads. As Martin’s eyes adjusted to the difference in light, he began to recognize what could be more “Sand Script” writing style as well. He told Asram this in a quiet tone. They both peered into the bottom of the eerily lit quarry taking in the different symbols. Since there were no railings or safety measures, both men were laying on the floor with just their heads and shoulders hanging over the ledge. It was very dusty but worth every minute. From below they seemed like two school boys exploring an abandoned mine shaft. This was every bit as fun and amazing for each of them. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” asked Asram excitedly. “I have nothing pending and all the time in the world. I was going to look in on the person who invited me here, but I would rather take a further look in here if that’ what your asking.” said Martin. “You have with you this machine for decoding these pictures?” asked Asram expectantly. “Yes I certainly do! Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Martin with a mischievous smile of his own. “Yes, I imagine so. Let’s get these whole songs on the computer, I really want more than anything to hear them. Do you think we can do it in one night?” asked Asram. “I think we can really make a lot out of what is here. I don’t know how long it might take to find each note, but I will do my best.” said Martin as he scanned the walls trying to see how many he could recognize off hand. If only John was in on this he thought for a moment. Actually, Martin realized, this was his adventure now. It was time to step out of the

shadows and exercise his own sense of romance and mystery. This was one of the greatest mysteries in the entire world. Who are we? Glancing at his wrist watch, Martin realized that he didn’t have the ‘time’ to set it since he got here. His father used to make every clock, watch and time pun he could think of. Now Martin just naturally thought like that. He laughed to himself recalling his Mother’s exasperation at his father’s antics. They never fought. He really admired his father for the special level of dignity in their household. He never broke that. He always knew he was lucky to have them, he never forgot it. Glancing over at Asram he asked, “What time is it getting to be?” Asram looked over at Martin with a feigned surprise and replied, “Don’t tell me you have troubles with your watch!” the two men laughed out loud. It carried out into the quarry and boomed back at them which seemed to make them laugh even harder. “It’s just after 3:00 am Cairo time. You must be feeling the jet lag then?” Martin set his watch to 5 past 3:00 am and glanced up with a smile, “Not at all my friend. I’ve got my second wind now and I will probably get my third as well. What happened to the crew coming here to do the excavations?” Asram nodded to the opposite corner they came in from, “They are working their way over here from a passage out of the subterranean chamber of the Great Sphinx for the next couple of weeks. They don’t put every crew in this chamber. Only selected individuals are allowed in here, even for work. The sphinx is slightly less secret, although it’s hidden chambers are still a national secret.” Martin thought for a moment realizing that there was far more to this entire complex than he had realized before. They had been so lost in this moment he had all but forgotten the sphinx. Martin suddenly asked, “Have you been in there too?” Sensing Martin’s great curiosity building Asram smiled as he replied, “I have been every where. At least everywhere that is currently known. They never revealed the central chamber to the western world for the same reason they keep this a secret. The construction is obviously different, and the wall reliefs in the Great Hall are nearly identical. There are just too many inconsistencies with Egypt as it is known, and Egypt as it once was. Our government cannot allow what is below to overshadow what is above. They believe it would ruin our history and undo our very legacy. Our entire nation, past and present, would be reduced to a bunch of opportunistic grave robbers. It is already common knowledge that our ancient ancestors even recreated the head of the sphinx in their own image. It appears that we have desecrated this place, thousands of years ago.” Martin realized what seemed to be at stake. The media at best can be a circus. It would be difficult for any person to entrust them with their written history, let alone a nation. He looked around the chamber in perpetual wonder. A thought struck him, “Is there any more of these symbols in the sphinx? What’s it like?” “Well it has a few rooms that go beneath it. The central hall lies between the paws. There is another type of writing in there. Also, there are these styles of symbols and more reliefs. There are murals depicting the Gods and their creations and destructions. The first chamber is 12 feet high with not one inch spared of carvings. The entire place is carved out of the living bedrock. There are statues of sphinx that stand guard in alcoves made for that purpose. The alcoves are carved with many symbols. Few of these are understood by anyone it is said. All of the sphinx statues are beautiful female guardians. They carry weapons, each of them has a different weapon, a staff, a trident, a sword, and other devices we have no reference for. They are armored along their backs with their breasts exposed. Their wings are all different. Some form a magnificent arc, some are swept back as though in flight, and two at the entrance have one in an arc, and one in a lower arc.

Just to look upon them you would realize that the face upon the Great Sphinx is not the true face. The hall branches off in a ‘y’ shape, on passage leads toward this pyramid. At the end of each of the passageways are massive stones that haven’t been moved. It’s believed that the chambers descend into the underworld. It is said that this passage leads to the great hall of records that describe our origin, and our position in the universe. It is said that the Great Pyramids were designed by the information inside the great hall. Some believe the sphinx is alive. It is said that she guards the secrets of the Anunnaki. When the Great War of the Anunnaki was fought, she was the only structure in the entire world that was left standing. Our ancient kings rebuilt some of what was once here by her blueprints. Over time their power and knowledge began to again anger the Anunnaki and threaten the peace. So once again the great kingdoms were thrown into chaos. Wealth of the nation was redistributed and the library of Alexandria was sacked and burned.” Asram’s narrative boomed across the quarry. He was a natural narrator. Martin could tell he had spent much time in here familiarizing himself with the acoustics of this magnificent underworld. “So, the work crew is in what part of the sphinx tonight?” Martin asked. “They are in the passage heading towards that one it is believed. It is a bit tedious for them. Much of the rubble is from the construction of the upper structures. Much is to be learned from every detail. They are nearing the parking lot beside the highway. It appears that as the ancients built the structures above, they removed every access to this lower chamber and used the rubble to block all the passages except perhaps a few still undiscovered.” Martin looked around the quarry yet again as he said, “I see what you mean about there being more below than above. Just the information alone seems to out weigh the great stone structures above. Speaking of which, shall we do some more decoding of this great composition around this chamber?” Asram laughed as he said, “Do we call this process de-composition then?” Martin chuckled and agreed that would be a perfect name for this process. The Sand Script Decomposition Compilation he thought to himself. Now there was a CD title. He sat back in front of the miniature laptop. It was still a little bit small for his tastes, but he was surprised how fast his hands and eyes were adapting. Martin opened a sound editor program and dropped all of the tones in order on the main sound track. In this way he could just play the song with one click and save it and enhance it from there in any number of ways. The tones from the spectrum analyzer software were really artificial and sounded tin can like. Asram watched in silence. He didn’t want to disrupt Martin’s train of thought. This was actually very easy thought Martin, but he didn’t want to hear his voice amplified throughout the chamber right now. A few moments later he was ready with his ‘decomposition’. He winked at Asram and said, “Shall we?” “Yes, play it.” He whispered back. Martin touched the play button on the sound editor and the music began to come to life. As one tone carried into the next, Martin quickly adjusted the parabolic equalizer to fill out the tones. The difference was amazing. The two smiled at each other as the song finished. There were still some missing tones and it was only part way through the song, but it was a major improvement over his method of activating one tone at a time. It lacked timing and rest periods, but it was definitely a song. Martin began to study the reliefs of the tones closer, running his hand across them. His Grandmother had been a coin collector most of her life. When she passed, the collection went to Martin to continue. He remembered the H.R. and the L.R. designations from his limited numismatic experience. The initials stood for high relief, or low relief on certain coins he remembered as he ran his fingers across

the stone engravings. The amount of sustain seemed to be built into the carving by the amount it was raised out of the stone he thought. There seemed to be four differences in height that seemed to continuously change from note to note he realized. He explained this to Asram who in turn examined the carvings and agreed there might be something to that theory. For now the two agreed, they needed to complete the decomposition and leave a small gap in the track where the symbol had yet to be decrypted. Tomorrow they would return and bring the Sand Script device. Martin returned to the point he had left off and continued to add the tones into his ever growing folder. One by one he dropped them on the open track of the sound editor leaving spaces for the missing symbols as he went along. For each wall Martin made a new track. Each corner of the chamber was lined at each side with symbols as well. The corners near the back of the chamber were mitered with three faces. Martin made a quick computer sketch of the chamber labeling each facet of the chamber. He then labeled each new track to correspond with its position on his sketch. He wondered if he would actually be able to come back to this place tomorrow. It seemed too good to be true. Asram inspected the different symbols as though he was committing them to memory. Martin wondered if he had the same sense of urgency.

Chapter 11A short time later Asram explained that there were portable facilities located below for the workmen as he excused himself to make use of them. Martin chuckled to himself with the thought that his friend seemed to have a much different sense of urgency. A short while later as Martin finished his task, he excused himself as well. Asram reminded him that there were no safety precautions and the surface was a long way to travel. Martin heeded the warning as he began his decent into the bottom of the quarry. As he descended level by level the immense proportions of everything assaulted his senses. He could feel the echo, the space, and the statues. It was all so grand. As he got to the level of the sphinx, he couldn’t help but approach one. As he stood before it, he couldn’t help but wish he had been there, met these majestic beings. The fact that they were part God, part animal and part woman was set aside in his mind. He could fall in love with this being. She was so beautiful, so majestic. Reason had little if anything to do with the attraction he felt for this being. He reached out slowly and touched her. His hand trembled as he felt her cold stone skin under his fingers. Some part of him felt as though she may come to life and strike him down for his boldness. All at once the quarry exploded around him, WRAWRR!! The sound blasted his senses and threw him back as he landed hard on his tailbone. His heart nearly tore through his chest as he struggled to back away from the giant lion Goddess. He was barely aware of the step behind him he was about to fall off of. He regained his footing quickly as he rolled into a crouching position preparing himself for certain annihilation. Uncontrolled laughter boomed across the chamber as Martin began to scan his surroundings breaking his gaze with the lion Goddess reluctantly. He looked up to the acoustic chamber to see Asram hysterically laughing, doubled over in fits of relentless laughter. Martin collapsed onto his hands and knees trying desperately to calm himself. The sounds of laughter exploding into the chamber were still terrifying even though he knew at this point that Asram had played a joke on him. Moments passed and the laughter continued. Martin would have thought it

was very funny too had it not been for the fact that he felt something in his chest tear during the ‘attack’ of the sphinx. He could feel the tear with each exaggerated beat of his heart. My God he thought, I’m going to die laughing! He focused on calm and peaceful relaxing thoughts. It was a strain to look up at the sphinx as he lifted his head. Sensing something was wrong, Asram asked if he was ok. Martin signaled ok with his hand. He felt strangely like he was being depicted in one of the wall reliefs, on his knees before the Lion Goddess, his arm outstretched toward her as she presided over his death. He blinked repeatedly as he tried to clear his vision. He put his arm down, it hurt to move it. He looked to the sphinx trying to find that calm that presided over him until Asram set off the explosion. His breath was very shallow as he attempted to calm it. The stone seemed to be rippling, coming to life as it was upstairs during parts of Asram’s story of creation and destruction. Was it the lack of oxygen in the chamber he wondered? Was his heart beating its last tune.. His chest hurt but he couldn’t lower his gaze. The sphinx seemed to be alive, her muscles rippled, her veins were moving! Asram knelt beside him asking him something, but Martin could not hear him clearly. He refused to shift his gaze from the Goddess. “She’s alive!” he gasped. Asram grasped him under his arms and lifted him to his unstable feet. He turned Martin forcefully away from the statue and spun him around. As he met Martin’s gaze, he said calmly, “Sit my friend.” Wide eyed with fear and amazement Martin repeated in a forced whisper, “She’s alive!” A kind look filled with concern and compassion filled Asram’s features. “I know, I know..” he nodded. “Sit right now at her feet. Don’t look up for a while until you have calmed yourself my friend.” Martin sat down between her paws. At once he felt some comfort. The stone seemed to stop flexing and pulsing the moment Asram took hold of him. “I’m so sorry my friend, you seemed so open to a prank, I just had to … or I would never get another chance so perfect. I almost knocked you off of that ledge. And here it was I who was telling you to be careful. I had forgotten how much force the sound can carry down at the bottom here.” Martin looked at the ground and breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth for a few moments. His heart was beginning to slow down. The sharp pinch in his chest was beginning to subside, but not entirely. He could feel it with each heavy beat of his heart. This experience had just shaved years from his life he realized. Well, he thought, we can’t all live forever. He wasn’t going to die tonight though. He would finish his journey first. What a shame it would be to waste a free trip around the world by dying on his first stop. As he regained his composure, his chest began to relax as his heart slowed to a manageable rate. Martin tried to think of the words he wanted to say. It was so much of a coincidence that just as he was thinking he might be struck down it happened that very second. And then the statue came to life nearly walked over to him to finish him off. His rational mind tried to attribute it all to a prank, the hallucination must be the result of him having a near heart attack. But he was seeing the same effect in the acoustic chamber above before he came down here. What was the connection, his level of excitement had been nearly over whelming to the point of passing out on more than one occasion since he set foot into this room. Martin looked over at Asram with a forgiving smile. His friend stood up against the wall a few feet away looking sheepish and concerned. “I’m alright, I’m just a little tired.” Martin lied. He didn’t want Asram to know what he had done. It wasn’t his fault. Although Asram may have been the instrument that played the sound, Martin had a strong feeling that he was not the musician that held the instrument. Martin looked up at the sphinx who had seemed to reach into his chest and seize his beating

heart moments earlier. The stone had stopped moving, the veins were no longer pumping, the muscles were no longer flexing. She was silent. Although he could not see her face clearly from this angle, he detected a slight amusement in her features. Not wanting to scare him away from the subject, Martin casually looked over to Asram and asked, “When I could see her moving, you said, ‘I know’, what did you mean? Have you seen her move before?” Asram flashed a smile to cover his feelings. “Yes I have.” he said. “Well, go on then.. Now you can finish the story. I have seen her move now. I have also seen the murals in the chamber above gently moving.” said Martin. “I interrupted your task, perhaps you would like to complete it before I continue then.” said Asram as he gestured toward the portable washroom at the end of the ledge. Martin nodded and slowly got up. He felt light headed and his chest still hurt. He didn’t want to betray this to Asram fearing their evening would be cut short. When Martin returned Asram was seated on the floor with his back to the quarry wall. He seemed relaxed, different. As he met Martin’s gaze the mischief seemed to be lacking from his usual demeanor. Martin glanced up at the sphinx as he approached them. From this angle too he seemed to be detecting a glimmer of humor in her face. He was unsure if it had been there before. He was standing eye level with her chest when he was thrown back. Feeling a bit like he had earned his seat between her paws, and also feeling like he would be less tempted to keep looking up at her, Martin resumed his former position and nodded to Asram to continue the story. Asram sat forward clearing his throat as he did so. “The original name my ancient ancestors have for the sphinx is Shesepankh, directly translated, means living image. Your experience is not unique. However, in this day and age it is very rare. Some tribes, local and afar still worship her as a deity. Priests of those tribes will routinely fast for days then spend hours in the desert sun just for a glimpse of her true nature. Every so often in times of great difficulty the elders and priests conduct secret rituals and consult the sphinx for guidance. Our government has over time been less and less open to the requests of the elders. Out of mutual respect for each other’s positions, a treaty was crafted between them. Three great statues were given to the tribes so they could continue their traditions in private without requiring the use of public facilities any longer. These secret rituals are unknown to the western civilization and never spoken outside of the tribe. Even the details of the treaty and the location of the statues remain a mystery. On very few occasions have the Shesepankh revealed their true nature to an outsider. Even the uninitiated members of the tribes have never seen them come to life except when deathly ill or dying. Instead of consulting the doctor or priest of the tribe, the dying can request to be brought into the presence of Shesepankh. It is said that if they are of pure heart and without unresolved sin, she comes to life and leads them past Anubis directly to the heavens. They are no longer required to stay in the temporal gardens of underworld. They do not die, they are ascended just as the kings had once been made into heavens lights. To be presented before Shesepankh is their life’s wish fulfilled.” Martin glanced up at the living stone goddess he sat under as Asram finished speaking. He began to wonder if he was near death. Perhaps this was the reason for his continuous visions in this chamber. “Am I near death then?” he asked Asram. He laughed warmly as he read the concerned look on Martin’s face. Asram looked up at the statue Martin had been sitting under thoughtfully for a moment before he spoke. “No, I don’t think so my friend. I believe she chose you to see her. What were you thinking just before I scared you half to death?” Martin put his hand on her paw as he went back in his mind for an answer. “I

was thinking how absolutely incredible it would be to know this being if she were alive.” he answered. Asram fixed him with an intense look and said, “Be very careful what you wish for my friend. I believe the history of my ancestors and I heed their cautions. These stones are all alive. We are not alone here. We are merely children at play in their garden unless we provoke them.” Looking at the other statues in the room, Asram continued, “Their garden is not limited to this very room. The entire world, all of the universe is their garden. Every breath we take is by their permission, exhaled by them directly into our lungs. Every beat of our frail human hearts comes from their cosmic drum and plays its rhythm in our chests to remind us that one day our song will end.” Rising to his feet, Asram walked over to the sphinx where Martin still sat, transfixed by the sudden seriousness of everything. Asram reached out his hand and lovingly caressed the goddess’ powerful muscles in her forearm. He spoke quietly, “When my song has played it’s last measure, I pray that Shesepankh will come for me. I pray I will be taken to the stars above and forever hold a position in the garden where the Shesepankh roam freely, and the Great Mother presides over our Holy House.” He looked down at Martin, who was still seated between the sphinx’s paws. He smiled disarmingly and asked, “Would you like to ‘meet’ the rest of the family? Or shall we wind down for the night? How are you feeling my friend?” Martin had a sudden surge of adrenaline at the thought, ‘rest of the family?’. He asked, “Where might the rest of the family be?” Asram sensed Martin’s cautious tone and laughed softly, “I just meant the rest of the Shesepankh in the room. It’s a stroke of luck that you only awoke the guardian, not one of the more serious fellows in the room.” He said with a wink as he nodded to the statue across from them that looked like Poseidon, holding his massive bronze trident. Martin followed his gaze and shuddered inwardly at the thought of awakening that very serious looking figure. Changing the subject he asked “shall we finish arranging some more notes in the upper chamber? I think I can get it done in about half an hour. Then, tomorrow we can just attempt to decode the missing symbols and if we still have time, perhaps I can color code the notes into four different colors to correspond with the differing heights of the reliefs.” “Let’s do it!” said Asram with a somewhat renewed enthusiasm. Martin stood up slowly. His pulse was well within normal range and the pains in his chest had subsided substantially. He was still a little light headed, but he wasn’t about to let anything interrupt ‘his’ discovery. The pair ascended ledge after ledge until they reached the acoustic chamber again. Martin sat back down at his makeshift desk in the center of the room. He could see every symbol in the room from his position on the floor. As he found the row of symbols he had left off at, he realized there was a reason all of the symbols could be seen from this sweet spot in the chamber. This was the spot where the music would be played from so many years before! The musician would likely stand where he was sitting and play the notes from each line of music carved into the rock walls of the chamber. As he looked around for evidence to support his theory, he noticed the wall relief at the back of the chamber. It seemed to depict a performer entertaining a group of individuals seated around a room. He wondered if it could be this chamber. The performer seemed to be holding an ancient ravanastron, or rebab. Martin had learned of these instruments during his study of the violin as a boy. In his other hand seemed to be a bow. If he hadn’t been looking for a musician in the relief he might not have recognized what he was looking at. At the time anyone would have likely recognized the ancient instrument, but today the violin looked very different. Asram noticed Martin’s fixation

with the mural and asked him what he was thinking. Martin told him his chain of thought. Asram’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the wall nodding his head in agreement. “Our people play an ancient instrument called the rotta. It was adapted from a zither for use with a bow by Persia I believe.” “Do you know anyone who knows how to play the instrument?” Martin asked. Asram thought for a moment as though he was considering what to say, then nodded, “Yes I do. The Elders of a specific tribe I was invited to knew of this instrument. They would play it during their ceremonies. My father took David and I when we were eighteen, and again at twenty one, and again at twenty seven years of age. These are the different times when the tribe celebrates the ascension of their children into the different levels of the initiations. Increased tribal responsibilities follow the rituals. On the 27th year it is different. A sacred circle is formed, and a trance is induced by secret ritual. It was this moment when I first was made aware of the secrets of the stone. I remember the Elder who played the rotta very well. He would play with the bow, then they would pluck the strings. It sounded like three instruments in one at times.” “Can you get the Elder into this chamber to see if he could bring this place back to life?” asked Martin optimistically. Asram smiled and replied, “No, I don’t think so. David and I have been having this discussion for a long time. This particular tribe is not located near here. When they were given the sphinx to use for their private ceremonies, their agreements had been met. For us to show them this would likely upset the entire balance of the tribe and open them to a feud with the current government. How could they console each other in the face of this?” he gestured to the rest of the quarry. Martin thought for a moment then asked, “So you have been part of the sphinx ceremonies? Did you see them come alive?” Asram looked at the floor, then back at Martin. He stared at him for a long moment. “Yes, we all saw her come alive. Each of us saw her. Briefly, before we involuntarily fell upon our faces in humble prayer. We are forbidden to speak of it to outsiders. But you are no longer an outsider. She chose you tonight. Something you had in your heart initiated the chain of events that occurred. She wanted you to see her. She left you alive, which means, she likes you very much. We are forbidden to speak of such things in the presence of the wakeful sleepers. Do you understand Martin?” said Asram as he stared deeply into Martin’s eyes unblinking and dead serious. Martin didn’t have to be told twice. The beautiful lioness had reached out from the stone and touched his heart as he fell in love with her. There was no one on this earth he could relate this experience to. There was no way he could even describe the sacred to the uninitiated. Before tonight, there was no way he could have ever understood it himself. Asram could see Martin understood as he nodded silently, unable to speak. “Those who have seen the stone come alive share a common bond. The Great Mother and her guard reveal themselves to very few people on this entire planet directly. Among those chosen, there are three types of people who can see her. The Elders, the pure of heart at death’s door, the initiates chosen by the tribe. Where the great mother is concerned, absolutely nothing she does is in error. Can you tell me why you are here Martin? How did you so happen to come here? We are brothers now, you and I. This very temple is your home, as it is mine. We have no secrets between us. So, what is it that brings you here?” Martin could feel in his bones that Asram spoke the truth. Things had changed for them both this night. They were both initiates into some kind of ancient awareness of the Anunnaki. They were not in this ancient temple alone. There were six sphinx’ and twelve Anunnaki in the quarry beneath them living and breathing between the frames per second that our eyes were

allowed to see. Martin could understand that clearly now. He spoke quietly, not really wanting his voice to carry the way it did in this chamber, although he could sense that his very thoughts were being heard by all. He began at the beginning with his encounter with the ancient artifact, and his subsequent adventure with the IB, his ‘scholarship’, and his open invitation by Zahim to attend the Sangam. When he finished, Asram studied his face for a moment, then bowed deeply. He stood up straight and looked directly at Martin as he said, “I am honored to make your acquaintance. I can see why you find yourself in the favor of The Great Mother. I am so very humbled by this experience we have both been led to have tonight. She has brought us here. This ten thousand year old carving has brought us together here tonight from our respective homes in the upper world. I knew when you recognized these symbols, it was divine providence that brought us together. When I heard the music play for the first time, I nearly wept. I am truly honored my brother to make your acquaintance.” Martin stood up out of respect for his out pouring of affection. The two men embraced as brothers. They stood back from one another and looked at each other, taking in the moment. Asram gestured to the walls and asked, “Are we done travelling the universe for one night my brother?” Martin smiled as he looked around at the walls, not wanting to let this moment escape him. Reluctantly he agreed. Tomorrow would be another adventure. Martin packed up his laptop, carefully saving his work and backing it up on his memory chip card. He took the card from his laptop and put it in his pocket. Asram led the way from the chamber down another level and into a passageway that was surprisingly clean and quiet. There was nothing in this L-shaped chamber. It was dark and quiet. The two men opened up their packs and bid each other good night. Martin would have no trouble finding sleep this night. Instead of counting sheep, he counted his heartbeats. He wondered how many he would have left. Martin awoke suddenly as Asram gently nudged him trying not to startle him. He whispered to him “It’s 6 am, We need to leave before the shift change occurs and the day guard shows up or we will be stuck here with no breakfast.” “Ok” said Martin as he shook his mind from the dreams he had been having. The two men rolled up their sleeping bags and packed their bags quickly and wordlessly. The ascent back up the crouched shaft was still ahead of them but Martin felt renewed despite the fact he was dreaming of some kind of adventure in the desert sands somewhere. He couldn’t quite remember what was happening, or who was there. But he knew he had essentially got no rest. As they exited the chamber, the two men looked back on the statues. Martin stared at the sphinx who had touched him as Asram blinked the lights in the chamber off. Martin said in his mind, ‘I’ll be back’. A voice in his head whispered, ‘I know’. Martin’s blood warmed and pulsed with that thought. She was alive, she really was. He knew he couldn’t have imagined it. Reluctantly he turned his back on the chamber and exited. Asram ran his card through the hidden card slot and exited behind him. They quickly crossed the subterranean chamber of the pyramid and began the long ascent to the surface. Strange as it was, Martin had nearly forgotten that he was under the pyramid. As the two men stepped out of the chamber into the dawn they looked and smiled at one another. This was one for the books Martin thought. They didn’t let their excitement betray their features as they bid the night watch good day and moved past the gates and back to the camels. Martin saw the animals looking back at him. He detected almost amusement could it be? They were very happy to see the men approach. Asram and Martin were very happy to see them as well. Martin petted the great beast as he nuzzled his head into

Martin’s shoulder. Asram had grain in his right pocket always. He gave a little to his camel, and put a little in Martin’s hand so he could give some to his camel. With a gesture from Asram, the two majestic beasts knelt and allowed the riders to mount up. When they were on, the camels stood up and began the trip back to the stable. They knew where they were going, and required no guidance. Asram leaned back in his saddle and said, “Don’t worry, they will go straight home. We can relax.” Martin smiled feeling the sun warm him as the chill of the desert night began to leave him. He looked back at Asram and said, “I could get used to this.” Asram laughed out loud and replied, “I told you to be careful what you wish for!” The two men burst into laughter. The ride back to the stable was rather quick, almost too quick. When they arrived at the stable, they dismounted and put their packs in the jeep. The camels wandered into the shade of the stable passed the water trough and went for their food. Martin noticed that the camels seemed to be rather domesticated. They acted like more like happy dogs, not livestock. The stable was quiet. Asram’s son greeted them with a smile. The lad was up pretty early for such a young man thought Martin. Asram looked around the place surveying the stable before patting his son on the head and sending him off. “He’s going to school now. He is such a good boy. He completes his chores, does very well in his studies. I couldn’t be a happier papa. There are times when I want to switch off the television to keep the west from corrupting his mind. But I know as he grows and finds out I kept him on the outside of this temptation, he would over indulge and fall away from us for good. This is what the ‘illusion of the west’ represents to us. It appears to many of us as the temptation and corruption of our families.” Martin smiled as he watched the young boy run down the path and veer off between the houses. “It’s not all bad you know.” he said as he winked at Asram. Asram let a chuckle surface as he nodded in agreement. They both climbed into the jeep and began to make their way back down the highway. Asram pushed some buttons on the radio and brought the disk back to the beginning. He lowered the volume so they could speak. “I imagine you would like to grab some sleep in the hotel before heading back with the device this afternoon. I will tell my brother to prepare a suite for me as well. I get the family discount.” said Asram with a wink and his mischievous grin. “Sounds splendid to me!” laughed Martin. With that Asram turned up the Bee Gee’s. Martin’s second wind was taking effect at this point. The sun had risen sufficiently to bring all of the morning traffic to life. His thoughts crisscrossed between the project at hand and the astounding shift in awareness that was taking place in his psyche. He felt like his mental computer was taking on a massive update that was much needed. It would take more than a few cycles to complete the integration of the preceding evening’s events and his current minds eye awareness of the world. He now felt he knew much of the impetus behind Plato’s dialogue, Allegory of the Cave. Before he met John, he was chained to the wall watching shadows of the things passing in front of the fire behind him. Slowly through his study and pursuit of understanding the sciences, his chains were being slackened. It seemed to be in preparation for this event. Martin felt as though he had stood right up last night and took a look right behind him and saw through so much of this ‘illusion of the west’ as Asram called it. Martin realized his place in the allegory. He had merely stood up. He was nearly blinded by the fire last night. As his thoughts went back to the events of the evening, and the journey that lie before him he realized, he had still not yet left that cave. But, he had picked the locks. Asram drove up to the hotel lobby and let Martin out under the great awning. “Set your alarm for four pm, is that

enough time for you?” Martin ducked his head back into the jeep and extended his hand as he said, “That’s more than enough time brother. I shall be ready to go at four.” Asram gripped Martin’s hand like a vice. “See you at four brother” he said solemnly. Martin withdrew from the jeep and slammed the door. He entered the lobby and made his way to the elevator quickly. He didn’t notice Muhammad anywhere. That was a good thing thought Martin. He wasn’t ready to engage anyone else at this point. He just wanted to be alone on the inside of his room with the door locked behind him.

Chapter 12Martin awoke to the sound of his alarm gently bleeping. He had been in an dreamless sleep thankfully. The familiar green tritium dial glowed 3 pm. Perfect he thought. He turned on his laptop and brought up his files. He took out his memory card and put it in his drawer. There was a Bible in the drawer he noticed. Shouldn’t there be a copy of the Quran he wondered. He turned back to his mini computer and inserted a fresh memory card. He copied another copy of the files onto it. Then martin crossed the room and looked through his suitcase to find his cannon camera. The irony of the name struck him, it’s a cannon, it shoots things. Ah, his father would have liked that idea. He was forever pointing out different things that struck him as odd and amusing. He was forever interested in the origins of things, even language, grammar, and Latin roots. He was something of a walking talking encyclopedia. His constant ‘revelation’s’ changed the way Martin looked at things as he grew. However, when Martin would point it out, it was rarely received well. People seem to feel safer if there is no mystery to things. Many people insist on living in a world where everything is defined and figured out in advance for them. It’s not always the socially acceptable way of critical thinking. Martin had learned the hard way if he was to be a critical thinker, and be accepted into popular culture, he must only think critically about the things that were already known and established. And of course, not criticize those things. He chuckled softly to himself as he swapped the memory from his camera for the card in his laptop. Popular culture is going to be in for a big surprise one day. A much bigger surprise than they can even conceive. Popular culture actually isn’t popular at all. It seems to be known as ‘the illusion of the west’ in other places. As Martin copied his files yet again onto this new data card he turned his attention to the Sand Script device. He opened the case for it and checked the cables and such. Everything was there. Everything that is, except the sand. He was pretty sure he would have an abundance of that back at the pyramids in a couple of hours. Martin had begun writing thoughts down of this device in a file on his computer as he had them so he didn’t have to rediscover each of his ideas every time he left the machine alone for a period. He opened the file and reread his points to refresh his mind on the secrets of the sand script. Other experimenters were having interesting success with colored oil and water mixtures, powders, magnetic ferro-fluids excited by vibrating magnets, cornstarch monsters were a type of non-newtonian fluid that seemed to rise up from a puddle of soupy cornstarch and form little monsters with moving arms when vibrated on a loud speaker. Martin liked this idea very much. He had done this himself. It was very simple and quite amazing to see something come to life from mere sound. All he needed was a bottle of water, some plastic food wrap and a box of corn starch. He wondered if there wouldn’t be time to do anything other than properly catalogue and

decode the mystery symbols tonight. He would ask Asram if he could make a stop at the grocers on their way. He saw a huge shopping center. It looked very busy, it might be quite exciting though. Crowds were never Martin’s thing having been brought up outside of London in a small peaceful town. However, there was no crowd in London or anywhere else that Martin had ever been in that was this congested. He wondered if it was a special occasion or if the city was just overcrowded all year long. He looked over his software to see if there was anything he could add to his list of tools for the evening. He ran a search for software related to cymatics. He came up with a newly developed piece of software called a tonoscope. Wow, he thought.. this was like the sand script device, but without the sand, or the machinery. He quickly paid for it online. The thirty five dollars this software had just cost him was well worth this priceless experience he was having. He continued to search for other points of interest while the software installed. He continued to run Chladni searches and cymatics queries quickly scanning the pages. There were more than a few people with web sites online that were offering clinics for sound healing and still others that were looking to visually decrypt ancient mantras on their home pc. Fascinating stuff, but there was nothing he could use in the chamber except perhaps this newly acquired software. His problem with the machine he had, and the software version of it was very obvious to him. They didn’t decrypt an image or a carving. There was no record player for sand scrip that he knew of. The best he might be able to do was identify a note that may have gone in place of a missing symbol, and tediously reverse engineer the tones from there. It had got him this far, he would make it work some how he was sure. He was packing up his equipment as his room telephone rang. “Hello” Martin answered. “Are you ready to go?” asked Asram in a well rested energetic voice. “Yes, packed and ready.” Martin assured him. “Can you meet me out in the front corner of the parking lot? Muhamid is not working today, so I left out the side door as not to raise any question with the shift that is working today.” asked Asram in a mock mission impossible voice. Laughing, Martin assured him that he would meet him in the parking lot in 10 minutes and hung up the receiver. The converted hard shell suitcase served to protect and transport the sand script device perfectly. It even had wheels. Martin put on his back pack and casually strolled out of the elevator and across the lobby. Martin stopped at the gift shop and bought a 70’s compilation cd as a gift for Asram. He thought that perhaps they could use a change in music for their day’s journey. Martin left the gift shop, nodding at the doorman politely as he left the hotel. The hot desert wind assaulted his senses like a blast furnace. Perhaps going to the market was not the best choice of ways he could spend his time after all. “Got everything ?” asked Asram gesturing to the extra baggage Martin brought. “Actually, I kind of wanted to stop at a market for some cornstarch and cellophane, maybe paper towels? Do you know of a good place to get this?” asked Martin as he sat down in the jeep and slammed the door shut. “Why yes, we are already here. I will return in a moment.” said Asram with his mischievous grin. Martin crossed the parking lot and disappeared into the side of the hotel. Martin exchanged the CD in the stereo and put the Bee Gee’s in the new case and stuffed it between the seats for safe keeping. Asram appeared from the side door of the hotel with a paper bag under his arm. He briskly crossed the parking lot and jumped into the jeep. He opened the bag and asked if this was the stuff Martin required. “You had that in your suite?” asked Martin with a laugh. “No, of course not. I used to date the cook back in high school. We are still great friends.” said Asram with a wink as the jeep

lurched into motion towards the congested road. His eye brows raised as he turned up the stereo to find Gloria Gaynor singing “I will Survive”. A slow smile raised his mouth as he began to move his head to the beats. It was a very enjoyable ride back out to the stables. When they arrived and the jeep shut off, Martin asked why they didn’t just take the jeep all the way to the site, it wasn’t much further. Asram flashed his trademark grin as he told him that for their purposes it is best if they are seen just as a day tourist and an hourly guide. It would keep suspicions low. Martin didn’t mind the nostalgic effect of riding up to the pyramids on the camels. None of the romance of this ancient place was lost upon him. As they left the jeep, the same scene as the day before was being played out as it had been hundreds of times before on hundreds of very identical days. Martin thought with a great excitement, but this is not like any other ordinary day at all. Martin took some deep breaths of the fresh air as Asram’s boy readied the camels. He tried to imagine the kind of innocence that these people grew up with in this setting. He tried to imagine a young Asram and David growing up in these very stables. Asram’s father was sitting where he was stationed yesterday. He had witnessed it all. His father before him had probably sat in that very spot on that very same chair overlooking a similar scene many years ago. Perhaps he played the rotta back then to pass the time pleasurably. Asram was completing his inspection. He spent a little extra time with the boy unlashing a portion of the saddle showing him an alternate version of the same knot. He looked back at Martin and winked as the boy followed his instructions replicating his father’s method. Asram put on a concerned face as he pulled at the knot and tested it. After some more discussion, Asram gave the boy a few coins and patted him on the head. The youngster ran off to the concessions without a backward glance. Asram faced the camels and gestured with his hand outward and across as he gave them a deep bow. The two animals knelt in perfect unison. Martin never ceased to be amazed by Asram’s connection to all things around him. Asram took Martin’s extra suitcase and placed it into a basked fixed upon his own camel. As they sat in their saddled Asram spoke Egyptian to the animals. The rose in unison together and began to retrace their steps from yesterday. “What did you say to them?” asked Martin. “I asked them to take us to the sphinx.” said Asram. “How long did it take you to train them?” asked Martin. Asram smiled back at him and replied, “I never trained them at all. I call it mutual respect. I raised these guys myself. They are my pets you could say. We have a mutual interest in each other. I attempt to find reasons for their behavior and I try to learn their language. In exchange they become very interested in the world I am from and my language as well. This is a genuine mutual interest in one another, not an owner, beast arrangement. These animals are every bit my children as my children are. They are 18 years old, these two.” Nodding in understanding Martin realized that Asram was really incredibly intelligent. He had developed a side to himself lost to the western ‘civilization’. In the quiet of the hot desert sands where time has no beginning and no end and the day keeps replaying the same sequence over and over, something is heard in the stillness that can be found here. It’s not in everyone, but it is with Asram and his family. He lives his philosophy, everything and everyone truly is sacred to him. Martin’s perception had been adjusted since meeting Asram in such a short time, unalterably and forever. This was Asram’s magic show, all of it. Martin had a distinct feeling he was deliberately being shown another possibility, the other side to the entire coin of life. The seconds stretched out before him on the desert plane. He felt so alive, so serine. He felt so in touch with all of creation in this moment.

He reached forward and petted the camel’s neck and thought ‘thank you’. The animal made a braying sound in response. Asram turned to him and said, “That means he likes you.” Martin felt a gentle warmth in his chest flood him and warm the places the sun could not reach. They arrived at the spot where they let the camels rest yesterday. David came to greet them smiling warmly and greeting Asram grabbing his hand and pulling his arm to his chest while slapping his shoulder with the other hand. “Couldn’t get enough of our hospitality Martin?” asked David exuberantly. “Not enough hours in the day to see all this place has to offer is there? Martin replied with a grin and a wink. He then excused himself to get some bottled water from the concession. He imagined they needed some time to catch up. Martin deliberately took his time getting the water and slowly drank half a bottle. It was slightly warm. He remembered the cornstarch mixture he might use this evening and grabbed a large spare bottle in the event they might need it. As he glanced around the grounds everything seemed about the same as yesterday. As Martin drank down the last of his bottle he glanced over to the tables where he had left David and Asram to catch up. They noticed him looking and beckoned him furiously to join them. David had lost much of his formal expression. Martin could tell he told him about the sphinx. “Tell me man, what did you two get up to last night? I hear you saw the Shesepankh come alive?” asked David almost franticly.” He looked at Asram who nodded for him to go ahead and continue. “I saw her come alive yes, the stone was moving, her muscles were flexing, even her veins were throbbing. I thought she smirked at me too, she was staring right down at me I swear it.” said Martin in hushed tones barely above a whisper. Martin glanced from Asram to David as he paused before continuing. “I thought she was going to walk over to me. I would not have been any more surprised. In fact, I was surprised she didn’t move.” David’s eyes were as wide as an owl’s eyes at night. “Which one was it?” he asked. Martin looked at them both before answering definitively, “The one with the grin.” With that remark, they all burst into laughter. “Well,” said David, “Asram says you have also been making sense of the wall reliefs as well? He tells me its some kind of musical glyphs?” Martin sat down at the table with the two men. Each of them seemed to share a boyhood fascination with these mysteries. Martin recapped the sand script writing he recognized on the walls. He also explained his friend John’s infatuation with chladni patterns and the device he brought with him tonight to attempt to decode the other symbols he was unfamiliar with. Asram listened as carefully as David, as though this was the first time he had heard any of this information. As Martin finished, David got a call on his walkie talkie. He listened for a moment, then responded. He translated for Martin, “It looks like the Gods are with you tonight, the work crews for this evening have been cancelled.” Asram looked at Martin with a grin and said, “Maybe digging around beneath the Great Sphinx isn’t such a good idea when Martin is in town anyways.” Martin chuckled lightly. David put his walkie talkie on the table and looked as Asram, then back at Martin. “You know,” he said, “I have never heard of an outsider having seen a sphinx awaken. I have heard stories of some locals claiming to have seen something, but no one has ever been acknowledged for having seen one as you have.” Martin nodded solemnly. “Asram agrees with me that we should take you to see the elders of the tribe our father is a member of. Would you like to go? Do you have time?” Martin glanced at Asram, who was looking on approvingly. “Yes, I do have the time, I would be honored. When shall we do it? I haven’t booked my hotel past tomorrow yet.” “You can stay with us as our guest my friend.” said Asram.

“We will make the arrangements for two days from now, if all goes well in here of course. David and I finally agree,” continued Asram as he glanced over to David, “That the elders need to be made aware of this discovery before our opportunity passes to share it with them.” Martin smiled and humbly accepted their kind offer. Asram pulled open the paper bag he had brought from the hotel. He dug into the bottom of it and produced a bottle of wine. “Here is to discoveries!” he said as he uncorked the wine and poured it into three plastic cups for each of them. “A toast, to music! To friends! To family!” said Asram as they clunked their cups together in unison. The wind was warm and dry, just like the desert around them A perfect match. They were all a bit dehydrated. The wine was finished in a couple of moments. Asram poured another glass, “To Shesepankh.” said David. They toasted the sphinx and drained the last glass of wine. The sun was playing out its last rays upon the desert clouds as though lighting them on fire. The clouds on the horizon looked like a giant bird of prey stretched across the entire sky swooping down to grab the sun in its talons. Martin took yet another mental photograph. The Great Sphinx light show was just about to start. It would be another hour or so before the crunched over trip back into the cavern. The three men chatted back and forth about legends and myths and the ancients. Martin was very happy to know that all of the romance and nostalgia had not been corrupted from this place. It was very much alive in the hearts of those who cared to stop and admire it. David and Asram recounted some of their experiences within the tribe over the years. This was not discussed among anyone outside the tribe ever. Martin felt very privileged. He was beginning to feel a little at home here in this far away land. His mother used to read to him and teach him to spell from old hard cover readers digest books the tales of Aladdin, Arabian Nights and Ali-Baba and the 40 Thieves when he was a boy. He missed her greatly. If only he could tell her of his adventures now. She stayed at home mostly after having her family. She kept a good clean house, and she kept the books for his father’s business. But her mind was as free as a bird he recalled. She always had her nose in one book or another. She probably traveled the world three times over. Her book collection lined one of the walls at the Clock Emporium. He had them moved there after he sold the family home some years ago. She used to say, “Prudence is a virtue.” It was for this reason he sold the home after his father’s passing. The time fell away quite quickly with the three of them bantering back and forth. Conversation was easy and unreserved. It was a rare experience for Martin. The walki talkie on the table crackled to life as the shift reported for duty on by one. David replied, then politely excused himself to go tend to his men. His shift overlapped the men’s shift change and lasted through the night. He over saw the operations at the plateau 6 nights a week. Judging by his demeanor and easy going step, there was no place he would rather be. Asram stood up from the table and stretched his arms toward the night sky. Martin looked up to the stars and wondered just how this was all related to them. Before the original builders laid the first stone, there were the stars. They were the original inspiration for all of this monumental effort and attention. Beyond our atmosphere, the home of the Anunnaki. Martin suddenly asked, “Which stars were the Anunnaki from exactly?” Asram followed his gaze upwards. “They were not from the stars Martin. They are beings of light and sound, taking on human form upon arrival here on earth. It is said among the elders, we too are beings of the same nature with our own little stars emitting ourselves here. The difference is that the food we now eat was cursed after the Great War so we don’t think to rise up and challenge our parents again as our ancestors did before the

Gods came and dispersed the knowledge and wealth.” “It’s all so amazing. It stares us in the face every night and most don’t notice. We are this little microcosm to that great macrocosm. People have so little time to stop and reflect these days, no one notices.” said Martin wistfully. Asram pointed at the night sky and asked, “Do you know what that is? It’s Venus. Some say she is also Isis.” he continued, “It’s so sad people have forgotten our roots above. Yet every detail of our everyday lives is mirrored in something larger. Three times a day if we are so lucky, we sit down to a family dinner. The turkey is in the center of the table, the dinner plates are in orbit around it. The Father says Grace, and the center sun is divided among the planets to sustain life. The little satellite dishes of butter, gravy and other elements circle through the group adding flavor. And the wine glasses must be the moons affecting the state of everyone at the table while constantly changing the tide.” Asram could really be a good influence on the younger generation Martin thought. How does a man like this end up tending such a small stable in such a small family he wondered. Perhaps the reason for his insight and temperance is his ability to relax, and reflect upon it all in a peaceful place that he holds sacred. Martin realized at that moment a fundamental important aspect about his new friend. He holds everything sacred. He has seen the stones themselves come to life, so have the rest of his family. Every grain of sand has meaning for these people. They are in the middle of a baron desert, yet, they are surrounded by life. Their ancestors are alive in all the elements, their natural understanding puts them in a state of acceptance and humility. Asram as well as the other initiated live in the temple. This is how they come to possess such insight. In the west, our level of insight is turned to the trends and markets and rewarded as such. The exceptions to the rule are the starving artists who see beyond the illusion and corruption of our species and dare to be different. Not only is there no provision for many of these people, they pay a dear price. John warned of how a difference of opinion, not the science, will produce or prevent research funding. For the first time in his life Martin felt like he was slowly being led out of Plato’s cave. “David is waving us over.” said Asram. The two shouldered their packs and Martin grabbed the suitcase containing the sand script device and wheeled it behind him. “Have a nice tour this evening gentlemen.” David said as he ushered them past the gate. Asram smiled and nodded. He gave David a salute gesture as they headed up the path to the Great Pyramid, Martin followed suit. David grinning and standing at attention, returned their gesture.

Chapter 13Asram offered to carry the suitcase up the great flight of stairs. Martin assured him he would be ok. As he approached the pyramid he drew in deep breaths trying to prepare himself for the incredible journey that lie ahead. The air was different down in the lower chamber. It was cool and fresh Martin remembered. “Where does the air in the quarry come from?” he asked Asram. “I think there are underground aquifers in the area linked somewhere in the crevices that haven’t been explored yet. Who ever did the burying of the chambers did a thorough job of it. They will be years before it all gets exposed.” said Asram as they began their ascent. He stopped suddenly and said, “Gimme that!” as he brushed Martin’s hand aside and took the suitcase from him. “You almost died yesterday, if you don’t recall. I suspect you will need all of your energy and concentration to focus

on your tasks tonight.” Martin could tell there was no convincing his friend at this point. He was right. There was still that pinch in his chest that let him know things had changed inside of there. “Ok, you win.” he said. “Thank you.” Asram grinned and nodded as he swung the case up in the air and placed it upon his head. “Besides, you were doing it wrong.” he laughed. The two of them made their way up into the pyramid, then down into the first chamber. Martin was relieved to be standing up straight again. Asram crossed the chamber and swiped his card in the wall grinning like an entertainer as he said, “Showtime!” The wall opened up and the fresh cool air filled the chamber. Martin breathed it in and walked through the opening. Asram crossed the platform quickly and threw the switches to illuminate the great cavern. He then closed the wall behind him when he was done. Martin’s eyes shifted straight to the sphinx, his sphinx. She stood as she had stood yesterday, tall, majestic, proud and beautiful. Asram followed his gaze and said, “I think your right, she is amused. Maybe you will think twice before you touch her there again next time.” said Asram with a laugh as he turned to ascend the steps up to the acoustic chamber. Martin felt his cheeks flush and his ears go red. He hoped his embarrassment would subside before Asram noticed. Now both the sphinx and his friend were laughing at him. He could still hear Asram chuckling to himself. Martin knew he would never live this down. The two ascended the step to the acoustic chamber quickly. It was easier to move with the cooler denser air filling their lungs. “Shall we unpack this here?” asked Asram as he lowered the suit case into the center of the room. “Sure” said Martin. He could tell that Asram was very curious as to what was inside of the case. Asram opened up the case and began looking through the cables. He instinctively found the extension cord Martin had packed and ran it along the wall until he found a spot near the entrance to tap into for power. Martin began to unpack his bag next to the device. He took out the water and his laptop. He rummaged for a container of some sort. He forgot to collect some sand before hand. Martin emptied the paper bag Asram left next to him. He turned on the laptop and said, “I’ll be right back, I need to get some sand.” Asram made a mock concerned face as he said, “Don’t touch anything you don’t want to touch you back.” Martin’s laugh boomed out of the chamber. He retraced his steps down the stirs into the bottom of the ancient quarry. The massive solemn figures gathered around the circular legless table commanded awe and humility. Martin knew that if ‘his’ sphinx lived, that these great beings also had a life of their own. Perhaps they guardian sphinx’s around the chamber were the first to awaken so that the larger beings need not be disturbed from their chamber unless it was really important. What could be so important Martin wondered. The sand on the floor of the chamber was white Martin noticed as he began to fill the paper bag with it. He wondered if this was how all the sand used to be before time had erased the old face of this area. Could all the sands have ever been this white? Perhaps it was just debris from the quarry he was gathering. As he examined a handful he concluded that it was indeed sand. Even the sands have been changed in their color after the Anunnaki Great War. As he filled his bag with sand, Martin’s mind wandered to the legends that have been handed down verbally for millennia among the Egyptians, likely the Tibetans, and of course India and Greece. For the first time in thousands of years, physical evidence that can be measured and studied has been unearthed. This was all too incredible. Here he was at the center of it all playing an ancient tune. Martin finished packing the bag and turned to head up the stairs. He remembered the symbols around the table on the floor of the chamber. He thought

perhaps Asram might have been forewarning him not to touch anything for a reason. He was just going to look he reasoned. Hopefully he didn’t set off anything with his mild intentions. He walked over to the table and looked at the symbols. Yes they seemed to be more sand script. They were very large alien looking symbols. He could almost imagine them as though they were a small snapshot of a larger picture, each of them. Some of them seemed to join the ones next to them, like a divided circular image. It was an idea worth pursuing at a later time. He looked up to the chamber to find Asram quietly looking down at him. He waved and turned back to the stairs. Upon entering the chamber Martin could see that Asram had been studying the tonograph in detail. All of the cables and patch cords were laid out in a row. This would be a very interesting night. The loud speaker would amplify the tones across the great chamber with incredible force. Martin would keep it very low. “What do you see in the table down below?” asked Asram. “I recognize a few of them as well, but I think I noticed something else too. They seem to interlock with one another to create a picture. When we finish this maybe we could look at those symbols and have a go of it?” Martin asked as he raised an eyebrow. What could it hurt?” said Asram with a wink. Martin crossed the room with the bag of sand under his arm. He grabbed a patch cord and plugged it into his computer’s headphone jack. He plugged the other end into the sand script machine and turned the device on. It made a thump sound as the amplifier energized. The sound reverberated across the quarry. The two friends looked at each other with wide eyes. Martin smiled and turned back to his laptop. He opened the software for music editing and prepared the song they had made the night before. He reached over and put a generous layer of sand upon the sand script machine. He beckoned Asram to come over and observe the tray of sand. “Ready?” Martin asked. “Yes” Asram whispered. Martin clicked the touchpad on the computer. The sand sprang to life as the tones boomed across the quarry. Asram’s jaw visibly dropped as Martin leaned in to adjust the drive and tone controls on the machine to create more definition in the patterns. The sand shifted instantly from one shape to another as the sequence of tones played from the computer. The tones on the wall were reflected in the sand perfectly, there was no mistake. Martin had guessed their meaning and purpose. Asram excitedly slapped him on the back as he stood up and did a little dance. He was so excited he couldn’t stop moving. When it stopped he excitedly asked Martin to play it again. Martin replaced some of the sand that had vibrated out of the tray, and played it again increasing the volume one step. As the song came to the end a second time, Asram was applauding profusely and smiling like a school boy. Martin found his enthusiasm infectious and smiled and applauded too. “Show me more.” said Asram as he sat beside Martin on the floor. Martin showed him the tones he had linked to the pictures of the sand patterns. He activated them one by one. The patterns would appear in the sand. He then clicked the input switch and selected the internal tone generator. Martin slowly turned the dial clockwise turning up the frequency as he did. The patterns would shift and change drastically as he did so. Asram remained transfixed on the plate as the sand came to life. “Can I try it?” he asked Martin. “I thought you’d never ask.” Martin said with a wink. He turned over to the supplies he had brought for the corn starch monster. Martin picked up the thermos and the corn starch. He poured the starch into the lid half full and added the appropriate amount of water to it. When he stirred it to a thick consistency he grabbed the cellophane and crossed the chamber to the bowl on the pedestal built into the front of the chamber. He then covered the top of the bowl with the plastic wrap. Asram barely paid

any attention to Martin. The Tonoscope had him entirely occupied. The sound was deafening. The plastic on the bowl was vibrating at a very high rate. The bowl with its hole in the center allowed air from the room to fill it from some hidden chamber beneath it. Martin wondered if the entire room had been built with hidden chambers built into the floor and walls for amplification purposes. As he suspected, the plastic was vibrating quite a lot with each tone being generated. Maybe it was not a sink as Asram had suggested. At that moment, the tones subsided. Martin turned around him to see Asram wide eyed and agitated to some degree. He looked perplexed as he spoke, “I can see it now, so clearly I can see it all.” he whispered. Martin put the cup next to the pedestal on the floor then crossed the room and joined his friend who was still seated on the floor. “What do you see?” asked Martin with a growing concern for Asram’s state of mind. Asram looked at the tray of lifeless sand then back at Martin before he spoke, “I can see creation in this device, in the sands I can see all of creation and destruction, tone after tone brings it to life, as it changes one is destroyed and the next rises from the last one’s ashes just like the Phoenix. Everything we see is being spoken into existence, all of creation all around us is a combination of sounds being spoken from the stars!” Asram’s voice rose for effect as his arms made a sweeping gesture across the room, “This is all Sound!” In a quieted tone he continued, “us as well, these bodies are a combination of sounds, like chords. We are a song being sung into existence by the very stars above us.” Asram began to visibly shiver. He resumed speaking very quietly, “We are the beings the Elders described to us, we are ALL children of the Anunnaki. Its true, every bit of the old legends, we are light, love and sound woven together in the song of our life that has been sung by The Great Mother. The earth herself is being sung by The Great Mother.” Martin was taken aback by Asram’s words. They cut through him like a knife. He could feel the pang in his chest from last night begin to flex and cause him some shortness of breath. “Everything our senses perceives is sound based then.” Martin agreed thoughtfully. “It makes so much sense, the great quantum physicist of our day all agree as well. Everything is in motion, there is no time, just relativity. There is a principal called Schrodinger’s cat as well that tries to explain something similar, but it goes a step further. It claims that we are the projectors as well.” Asram sat up from the machine and looked around the room, “So all of this ‘reality’ is just a unified sound being screamed and sung into our perceived existence by the stars above. Or are we just floating inside of a massive explosion, the ‘Big Bang’?” “But isn’t there an ancient principal that states ‘As it above, so it is below’. This is the Macrocosm to the microcosm theology you were explaining earlier about the dinner plates around the turkey.” By the surprised expressions upon their faces, the two men seemed to realize the same thing at the same time. Asram was the first to say, “So the stars up there, are actually here, they walk among us!” Martin looked around the room and replied, “Yes, yes.. I see something else in the mural, look..” The two men got up from the floor and crossed the chamber to look at one of the murals. Martin pointed to the female figure in the relief, she was holding what looked like a lyre. The other figures seemed to be floating dancing, and some were reaching for it. “I have seen this woman in Egyptian reliefs before, haven’t you?” asked Martin. Asram looked at the picture for a long moment, then he knelt on one knee with his head bowed. He said a short prayer, then stood a faced Martin. “Your right my friend, it is Aset, or as the Greeks call her Isis. It was said in our culture those were horns with the solar disk between them. The earliest writings mention that Ra told her his secret

name. In this way she was able to perform magic and create life. The disk between her ‘horns’ was a symbol of this knowledge. They aren’t horns are they.” said Asram as he gestured to the relief of the bare breasted goddess holding the lyre in her hand making creation with its sounds all around her. The sun in the upper most corner of the relief cast his light upon the scene. Martin gasped as the realization took hold of him, “So Ra’s secret name is all of the sounds, the entire electromagnetic spectrum!” Asram whispered, “Yes, this is the secret of Isis.” Martin thought for a moment, “Do, Ra, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti” he sang gently. “It’s a musical scale. Of course it makes so much sense now, the sun is responsible for the entire electromagnetic spectrum. That is its true secret name.” Asram looked around the room carefully in a new light, “So it would seem my brother.” He looked at the bowl covered in plastic and the cup on the floor and asked, “What is this that you have prepared for us here?” Martin looked at the forgotten cup on the floor. He picked up his water bottle and added a small bit to the cup and stirred it into the mixture to make it a little more watery. When he was satisfied the consistency was correct, he pored it onto the cellophane in the center. The mixture pooled in the center like a pancake and stayed put. “Perfect” Martin murmured as he crossed the chamber and went to the laptop. He clicked a tone file marked 20 htz. and switched over the input switch on the sand script machine. The low frequency sound boomed across the chamber and the liquid goo came to life. Martin watched as Asram took two quick steps backward when the cornstarch began to wiggle and then create small little piles of its self with little arms and everything, it looked as though it would crawl right off the bowl. Martin gave the tone generator more drive and the quivering mass formed a little gooey manlike shape and ‘walked’ right off the cellophane and landed on the floor in a splat. Martin was very impressed with the little cornstarch monster he had conceived. Asram on the other hand looked nearly like he must have looked last night. His face was pure white like he had just seen a sphinx come to life. “Are you ok?” Martin asked. “It’s a golem!” Asram gasped with a smile. “Golem?” Martin echoed. “Yes, it is passed down in legend that special mud and sand mixtures have been used in the past by Elders of different tribes as helpers, warriors, it is also said the Adam was a golem at first. In the story of David and Goliath, Goliath was a golem as well. Hence his name was GOL-iath. I just never thought I would see on up close with my own eyes, wow!” said Asram breathlessly. “The legends are coming to life right before our very eyes my brother. I don’t know where this ends, where it begins anymore.”

Chapter 14At that moment the unmistakably loud whirring sound of the motor that controls the sliding wall closing off the quarry reached their ears simultaneously. Asram looked at Martin in terror, Martin instantly realized this was not a planned part of the evenings events. “I hope its David!” he whispered loudly as he dragged Martin to the wall and pushed him back against it with his arm. The two friends were perfectly silent and still for a long moment. Asram was afraid to look down. The room was lit up brightly compared to the relative darkness of the chamber below. A voice called out from the platform, “Hello Asram, hello Martin!” The two men visibly relaxed a little, but exchanged a look of mild confusion. Neither had recognized the voice coming out of the

darkness. He spoke English, very heavily accented though. Asram stepped away from the wall to face this person who had somehow made it past David into this most secret of chambers. “Ah, there you are my good man.” said the voice. Asram smiled politely and asked, “Who are you please?” “I am Zahim Ismal.” said the voice as he stepped out of the shadow of the doorway. Recognizing the name, Asram went on one knee and bowed his head as he had done before the mural of Isis. “How may I be of service.” The man walked to the edge of the platform and said, “Young man, if you could come help me up these stairs for a start. Is Martin there with you?” Martin had recognized the name as well. It was the man he was here to see in fact, the secretary general of Egypt's Supreme Council for Antiquities. Martin stepped forward into the opening and presented himself to Zahim as well. “Yes sir, I am here as well.” Martin said as he bowed deeply out of respect. “Good, good! I see you are taking me up on my invitation to visit our great nation’s historical treasures.” said Zahim with a chuckle. Martin began to exit the chamber as he responded, “Yes sir, I sure have.” Zahim raised his hand to stay Martin’s advance as he said, “Hold fast up there my friend, Asram will help me come up there to visit with you momentarily.” Asram had quickly descended into the quarry to meet Zahim at the edge of the entrance platform. He carefully took Zahim by the arm and led him down the first set of stairs, across the quarry floor and up the second set of stairs. As he passed the sphinx he looked up at Martin and asked, “She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Martin realized that Zahim knew much more than they had accounted for. “Yes sir.” he responded meekly. Zahim stopped for a moment and gazed up at her. After a moment he said, “Her name is Fatima. It comes from the language of origin, or as you have been calling it, Sand Script. It means Fa, for fauna, Ti, for distilled knowledge, and Ma, for our Great Mother.” Taking one last loving look upon her, he resumed his slow ascent up the stairs. Asram patiently guided the elderly gentleman up the stairway towards the chamber. “Fatima”, whispered Martin above the majestic statue. Asram and Zahim entered the chamber a moment later. “let me put you both at ease a little bit.” said Zahim in an effort to break the tension. “Each of us knows each other, let us begin there. Now, as you may have pieced together I have a very good idea what you lads have been up to for the last couple of days. In fact, Martin, we can place your whereabouts since the day after you emailed me. Asram, you have been on my personal radar for the last two years. You and David both have since you breached this holy site. It is the policy of our office to monitor all of our ‘Asets’ closely as well Asram.” Asram attempted to speak but was silenced with Zahim’s raised hand. “It is of no use to explain yourself to me. I listen to more than just local conversation with my earpiece.” He said as he opened his suit jacket to reveal a very sophisticated hearing aid that looked more like a military issued piece of radio equipment. “I have been patched into this room the entire time you boys have been in it. Asram has brought very few people into this chamber you see Martin. But every time he tells one of his stories, it gets better. I make it a point not to miss any of them. And yes by the way, I do have them recorded onto CD for my personal collection. I hope you will forgive the intrusion Asram?” “Yes, sir.” replied Asram humbly. Zahim smiled warmly exchanging glances with them both before continuing, “We will be making some changes in staffing around here to prevent any further breaches of our security though. David has been relieved of duty as of one hour ago. I have sent him home to have him think of the consequences of his actions. You were right when you told Martin that exposing this place to outsiders was very close to treason Asram.” Zahim put his hand up

again to stay Asram’s frantic attempt to plea for his brother’s life. “Before you get ahead of yourself Asram, David has been selected to head my personal security. He will have an honorable discharge from military service in the morning and his records will be sealed. I know David for years, like I know my own family. We do very careful screening, years in advance of selection.” Zahim cleared his throat and smiled warmly at them both before continuing, “We have had a recent opening in our high council. Our high council consists of twelve members, similar to the setting in the chamber beneath us. The position is held for life. Our members are not elected, this is something we are born into. On a rare occasion, a spot becomes open that must be filled with ‘new blood’. We have had our eye on you Asram for this reason. When I approached the Elders of your tribe, they recommended you instead of one of their local members. When I asked why, they replied that ‘the west’ had approached you and you stood fast. I became intrigued by their words and chose to follow it up. We have had a couple of very interesting years, you David and I. I am so honored to finally meet you in person Asram.” said Zahim as he stuck out his hand in Asram’s direction. With tears in his eyes, Asram shook the Elder’s hand with much genuine gratitude. He seemed to be struck speechless so Zahim continued explaining, “I knew I couldn’t just take one of you. You would have to come as a pair, or not at all. I am hereby offering you a chair at the inner circle of the high council Asram. As a member of our council we will expect full disclosure to any and every question asked of you. We will also stress that any and all breaches of trust will constitute full treason and carry the penalty as such. Do you understand me clearly Asram?” “Yes sir.” Asram said quietly. “Speak it loud son so the recorders can commit this to tape for us.” replied Zahim. “Yes sir!” boomed Asram across the quarry. “And do you accept the position officially Asram Salam,?” asked Zahim. “Yes sir!” boomed Asram across the quarry. Zahim smiled at the two men and boomed, “It is with great honor for the first time in over ten thousand years that am so very privileged to elect a member of the Supreme High Council in these chambers. I, Zahim Azreeal, hereby commit you Asram Salam to the duties and obligations of the Supreme High Council!” Both Zahim and Martin swept up in the moment clapped him on the back and embraced their brother. “Its like a dream.” said Asram with a soft voice. “I say your probably onto something there son.” said Zahim with a knowing smile. “Now you, Martin McBride. Did you know,” said Zahim as he turned to Asram, “We gave this man a blank check and an invitation to come stay at our lavish accommodations, and of all the places in this fine world, he ended up spending his precious moments in a cave beneath the earth with you sleeping upon a rock?” The three of them laughed at that remark. It was very uncanny how they had all been brought together for this grand adventure and ended up in this cavern in the middle of the night with their laughter booming across the ancient reproduction of the Anunnaki High Council. Zahim seemed very satisfied with how things were going. “May I tell a story too?” he asked as he gestured to the far mural on the wall. “Please do.” said Asram as Martin nodded in excited mutual agreement.

Chapter 15Zahim took a breath and began in his best story telling voice, “We like to call this panel ‘Fire, Water, and Earth’. We had trouble with this one for quite some time.” he said

gesturing to the panel with his upturned hand. He gazed thoughtfully at the swirling waves and what looked like comets etched into the stone. “Then a new discovery near our very own galaxy that gave us the context we seemed to need to interpret this better. There is a star and a floating ocean suspended in space near a galaxy only light years away from us that is currently demonstrating a process we would call the creation of a solar system. For the first time in our own written history, we are able to perceive this event for ourselves. A massive ocean of water vapor is being drawn in by the gravitational pull, and whipped around the star until it forms a swirl of steam, haze, and ice around the star. As the new sun erupts it’s flares, blast after blast into space, the mist catches and cools the debris, beginning with the closer steam vapor, and continuing to condense through the ice crystals at the furthest reaches. Like bullets fired into the ocean, the mist catches her sun’s eruptions and sorts through the elements and slows them down as they hit the vapor and settle into their respective orbits. Together as though they are two distinct symbiotic species, the sun and his ocean are conceiving their children, the planets. The process begins with eruptions that will amass an iron core for each planet involved in the solar clockwork. The core of each planet is just like the flywheel weight of an engine, it keeps balance and helps with timing. This will help the aetheric fire-ball star continue to have direct contact through gravity, and the entire electromagnetic radiation spectrum, while keeping the orbit as constant and stable for as much ‘time’ or as many orbits as has been calculated by the ancient beings. As the speed and distance of this iron core begin to approach the precise gravity required for terra forming, the rest of the elements begin their descent to the new planet. The individual planets begin to create gravity and atmosphere. The precise gnome for all living things is interlocked from the very beginning by the terms and vibrations set forth during the union of these two species of cosmic entities as they are woven together in an eternal embrace. Fire and water combine to create air and earth. These are the mediums through which the two cosmic entities will be able to interact. A pattern for Mother Earth is being copied and adapted to her environment in this space, revolving around her star. As they continue to sing their cosmic song, the new star blasts radiation, pulses, revolves and wobbles on his axis. The new Mother is forming herself in accordance to her star’s chemistry, needs, moods, and seasons. Her distance to the star, her orbit speed, her moons, her protector planets are all being charted by her interactions with her star. As the sun sings his song and blasts his light radiation in all directions, the ocean mother weaves the light into spirals and circles and orbits to create the illusion of time. Everything in this cosmic dance is made entirely of photons. Their combined matter is bent and woven into photonic debris imitating linear existence. Our minds and physiology are adapted to perceive these orbits and spirals as a solid linear event, thus time is born. The other planets will protect against collisions with asteroids and meteors. As the gaseous state of the new solar system is being irradiated by the star, it forms a massive group of consciousness outside of it’s self. This consciousness is divided into the new sun’s brothers and sisters, the planets, moons etc. This is the birth of a new Solar Family. This heavenly descent into matter is the deliberate creation of time, and also the stage set for the birth of Mankind. Atom spelled backward is Mota, or in many languages it means death or mortality. One concept is of light, the other is of earth, but both carry the divine spark with a divine purpose.” Zahim walked over to the mural and placed both of his hands upon it as he continued, “These two projected this entire solar system so they might be able to walk together upon it, and

touch one another with their hands and lips for all of time. Time is a gift, and mortality is the most precious gift.” Zahim turned back to the two men who were transfixed by Zahim’s incredible interpretation of the beautiful mural. In a lower hushed voice he whispered, “And they are still here today, they walk this earth, hand in hand in a million places all at the same time. Such multifaceted beings are these cosmic parents of ours.” Zahim paused to reflect on his thoughts for a moment before continuing, “The truth of all of Atlantis is hidden in plain sight within the macrocosm you see. All of this earth is Atlantis. This is what was left for us after the Great War, our fall from grace, our banishment from the garden. The entire globe is merely our spaceship, and long ago this place we are in was the control center. Unfortunately for our ‘civilization’ we know not where we are nor or our place in it. We are still in the garden of Eden, very few of us realize that Eden is a living being, she is yet another of Aset’s ten thousand facets.” Upon his completion of the story, Zahim placed his hands together as if in prayer, and bowed his head to his young disciples. Martin and Asram followed suit. “In my country,” continued Zahim, “We use the word Salaam to greet each other. It is the Aramaic expression for ‘peace’. It is considered to be one of the 99 names of God. Don’t be shy to use it liberally Martin. We also use the term to say good bye.” Glancing to Asram Zahim asked, “It is much too late for a man my age to be playing Indiana Jones in a forgotten old cave my friend. Would you kindly help me assist me back down the passage to the wall? I have assistants who can help me back out of the pyramid from there.” “Yes, most certainly sir.” replied Asram as he took the elderly gentleman’s arm. “I will need you to collect your brothers David and Martin, and bring them to the main office for 9:00 am tomorrow morning to pick up your credentials and for a short orientation please Asram. Can you do this for me?” asked Zahim. “Yes, we will all be there for 9:00 am sir.” “Martin, I would be honored if you would be my house guest for the next while so we might get to know each other better. Would you like that?” asked Zahim as he looked back into the chamber at Martin with a warm smile. “Yes, I certainly would sir. Salaam.” said Martin respectfully. Zahim echoed his farewell and descended into the bottom of the quarry. Martin watched him as he left. Zahim’s assistants collected him as the entrance wall opened. Asram bid him farewell and closed the wall back up after a long moment as he watched Zahim and his entourage pass through the other chamber and out of site. Asram looked up at Martin and gave him a wave as he began his ascent toward the upper chamber. Martin turned his attention back to the room behind him. This was another night for the books he thought as he glanced down at what was left of the cornstarch golem on the floor. Asram entered the room to find Martin tidying up. He had put the cellophane in a small trash bag and had almost cleaned the mess off the floor. Martin finished wiping the splashes off the pedestal then put the cap on the water bottle and stood up. The two looked at each other, then back at the chamber. Neither man knew just what to say. Martin looked over to the machinery in the back of the chamber and said, “It would be a terrible shame to pack it all up just yet, wouldn’t it?” Asram, grinning his trademark smirk replied, “And just what do you have in mind Martin McBride?” Martin grinned his own mischievous grin and crossed the room and sat down in front of the equipment. He switched the sand script device back on, and adjusted the input to detect his computer. He opened and closed some applications for a moment. “I always wanted to try out being a DJ, I just never had all the equipment in one place before.” Martin chuckled with a wink as he clicked the touch pad. An instant later the entire quarry was

thundering the sounds of the 70’s as the Bee Gee’s belted out Stayin’ Alive like its never been heard before in a disco hall like the world has never even imagined. Asram and Martin laughed hysterically as Asram did his best John Travolta moves across the front of the chamber. The brothers listened to music all night long as they took turns selecting tracks from Martin’s extensive music library and dancing around the chamber like there was no tomorrow.

Chapter 15After a long and quite enjoyable evening underground, Asram and Martin packed their things and headed to the surface. As they ascended out of the underground the crisp dawn desert air greeted them like an old friend. They headed directly out of the gates, stopping to salute what must be the new commander of the site. He returned their respect rigidly without making eye contact. He must be new Martin thought. Perhaps he had heard what can happen if he gets too comfortable in his position. As they walked around the fence, Asram made a clicking sound with his tongue. The two camels from came around the stands where they had been keeping themselves. The two camels were noticeably happy to see them. They broke into a trot when they saw Asram and Martin. Asram gave Martin a little grain he had brought for them in his pocket. The camels knelt down in front of the men and ate the small offering from their hands. Asram inspected the saddles and strapped Martin’s sand script device to the back of his camel. They mounted the camels just as the sun broke over the horizon spilling its first rays into their eyes. Asram looked over at Martin holding up his cell phone. “I should wake David and see if he is ready to begin his new life.” he said. Asram made a short phone call to David, apparently explaining Zahim’s visit and reassuring him everything was ok. “David is already packed for a trip. He has been up all night as well packing and making his final arrangements. Zahim did not tell him about his new job last night. I got the impression from him that he wanted David to have a good scare.” Asram chuckled. “Well, he was scared alright. He was packed for prison and saying good bye to his wife and sons! Now he is putting on his good suit and they will have a nice breakfast before we arrive to pick him up.” “Wow” said Martin, “Should we have told him earlier?” “Naw, I think Zahim wanted it to be a big surprise, and a little lesson.” Asram said with a laugh. Martin leaned forward to pet his camel on the side of his neck. The camel made his braying sound that he made before. “He loves any kind of attention.” said Asram, “Be careful with that one. When he was old enough to walk he followed me around for two straight years. He would learn to undo the pen at the stable and wake me up in my bed. It’s because of him I had to re-latch all of the pens. He taught the other camels how to escape too. You wonder how I get them to follow me, its getting him to stop that’s the trick.” Martin laughed and pet him again. And again the camel made the happy camel sound. They were back at the stables before there was much traffic in the streets. Asram unpacked their gear and put it in the back of the jeep. He gave his boy some instructions and a pat on the head. As the youngster returned to his duties Asram and Martin got into the Jeep and headed to David’s home. “I’ll be right back” he said to Martin as he left the jeep and walked into David’s house. After a few moments the two men emerged from the home. Martin jumped into the back seat as they approached. “Salaam” said Martin as David took his place in the passenger’s

seat. “Salaam” replied David taking Martin’s hand in both of his and shaking it warmly. “I never thought I would see this day my friends. Actually, I thought for a while I might not see another day at all!” said David sincerely. The three of them laughed out loud. Asram turned up the stereo as he said, “No more troubles my friends, our new lives begin with this moment!” The three of them enjoyed their trip through the traffic as Asram guided the jeep through the growing number of vehicles beginning to line up for the morning rush. They weaved in and out of traffic until Asram stopped the jeep in front of a coffee shisha house. “Let’s go for coffee.” Said Asram as the jeep lurched to a stop. “We still have over an hour. I wanted to be sure we made it here early incase of traffic problems. Besides, I think David could use a smoke.” Asram said with a laugh as David pushed his shoulder good naturedly. “Have you ever tried a hookah?” David asked Martin as they disembarked from the jeep. “No, I never have. I always wondered what it was like though.” said Martin as they took up a table outside the shisha house. “Well” said David, “It’s a lot like smoking about a hundred cigarettes without actually smoking them.” “I see.” said Martin. “There seems to be a lot of interest in this idea.” He said as he looked around at the eight or so hookahs being put to use by the customers outside of the shop. “It is very popular in the middle east, Persia, India. Actually it’s popular every where except in the west.” said David raising one eyebrow in mock suspicion. “Oh here we go with the west again.” said Martin as he rolled his eyes. “We will stop bugging you eventually Martin.” said Asram as he returned to the table with a prepared hookah for David and a cup of coffee for Martin. “Once you learn Aramaic that is.” They all laughed at that. The three of them downed multiple cups of coffee and exchanged their versions of the night before events while David puffed on his shisha. Both Martin and Asram had a couple of turns smoking from the hookah as well. Before long it was time to go and present themselves before Zahim in the building across the street from them. Martin was feeling a little light headed as they mounted the steps to the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities. He stopped, turned suddenly and said to them, “Ok guys, just let me do the talking.” Asram looked at David and then back at Martin then burst into laughter. “Alright David, from now on, no more shisha for Martin before big meetings!” the three of them all burst into laughter. “No, really Martin, don’t you dare!” laughed David.

Chapter 16As the three men approached the information desk Zahim appeared in the main corridor with two well dressed men wearing dark suits and standing quietly just behind him. “Salaam!” “Good morning gentleman! I trust none of you have had much if any sleep, have you?” Zahim said cheerfully with a soft laugh. They all exchanged amused looks. “Oh to be young again and so full of fire and spirit! That’s my boys!” said Zahim in a warm fatherly tone. “Ok, let’s get started then! David, you will be going with Elah for a quick orientation. Here is your ID card, it will swipe you into every area of this building. Don’t lose it please.” said Zahim as he nodded to the man in the suit who stepped forward as his name was called. “Today is a short day for you all since I know it was a long night. Asram, our friend Raziel will take you for an initial orientation as well, and then we will go together and meet a few members of the council who are in today.” said Zahim as he leaned over to clip Asram’s security card ID to his coat pocket. “Any questions?” asked

Zahim. Asram and David shook their heads side to side. With a nod, the two men and their escorts disappeared down the hallway where Zahim had emerged a few moments before. Martin watched them as they went. Zahim cleared his throat recapturing Martin’s attention. “I trust you had an interesting evening last night. Our staff at the monitoring station really enjoyed your selection of music. It seems there just might be a future for you as a DJ according to them.” said Zahim with a short laugh and a wink. Martin chuckled as his cheeks flushed. “I thought the occasion called for some celebration.” said Martin rather meekly. “I would have to agree, most certainly. I don’t suppose you have had the opportunity to collect your things from the hotel yet?” asked Zahim raising his eyebrows for effect. “No. not yet.” replied Martin. “Well I will have my staff take care of the details for you, that is if you will be staying with us for a while still? asked Zahim. “Yes, if it’s no bother to you.” said Martin. “Bother me? You already have bothered me to some degree my son. I like it, your infatuation with sound and your interpretations of the murals in that chamber have bothered us all considerably. We have been looking for someone of your intuition and perspective to blow the dust off of some of our recent discoveries as well as some of our more cryptic discoveries.” said Zahim in a confidential hushed tone. “I would be very honored to have a look at anything you might have. But I have no formal education in archeology, or linguistics at all. I repair clocks and work with computers.” replied Martin humbly. Zahim placed his hands together thoughtfully as he spoke, “That is just the type of person we are looking for son, someone who’s education and preconceptions do not over shadow the possibilities and the truth. Our mutual friend John is a former pupil of mine. And you have been a student of his. You are very good at pattern recognition, critical thinking, and abstract thought. Your relationship with time pieces and music also has some of your doors of perception swung wide open. This is a more perfect arrangement than I could have hoped or planned. Martin, I assure you.” Martin studied Zahim as he spoke, allowing it all to sink in. This is the man who had worked with John all those years ago. How lucky he was to be offered a chance to assist the council with ancient relics. John had spent two of the best years of his life in this place. Martin hoped it would continue be a very enlightening experience here. There was nothing to go back to in England now. That is, except for John of course. But John was rarely ever there any more. He was wrapped up in many other projects around the globe for months at a time. Smiling enthusiastically at Zahim, Martin asked, “Where shall we begin then?” Zahim smiled and clapped his hands enthusiastically, “I will take you on a short tour. But first we will get a scooter. It is a big place after all.” said Zahim. The elderly gentleman led the way, his cane didn’t seem to slow him down too much. They turned into a corridor with a number of segway style self balancing electric scooters. Martin watched as Zahim hooked his cane on the handle, turned it on and stepped up on it. As he backed out of his ‘stall’ he said, “These are great, I just go around on one of these sometimes and pretend I have somewhere to go. It’s a very big place, no one catches on that I'm just riding around I think, well maybe the janitors know.” Martin laughed as he turned one on and followed Zahim out into the corridor. Zahim took Martin along the halls showing him museums, galleries, archive rooms, and libraries. They took the elevator and scooted along the upper balcony and through the quiet study rooms and the university collections. Zahim eventually made his way to a hallway past the classes to a wing of the building reserved for guests and students. He showed Martin the chambers where John used to study. Things in this room are much as they were when John Studied

here. They are much as they have always been in fact. This room doesn’t get used much. There is a small laboratory, washroom, kitchen, and sleeping quarters. There is also this lovely study with it’s own private library of reference manuals and such.” Said Zahim as he stood near the center of the chamber and pointed out the various different aspects to Martin. “This is where I thought you might be comfortable for a while. Is it suitable?” asked Zahim. “Yes, I love it! I would be honored to be your guest.” replied Martin excitedly. “Then that much is settled. I will have your things from the hotel brought over as soon as possible. John will be most interested to hear you occupy his old chambers. The list of telephone exchanges is beside the phone there. You can call the kitchen anytime you need anything. The menu is in the drawer. And here is your key card as well.” said Zahim as he leaned over and clipped it to Martin’s pocket. “I can’t thank you enough for all of your hospitality Zahim.” said Martin as he shook the elder’s hand. “Think nothing of it. We will have a good time here you and I. The kitchen will have a nice breakfast sent up for you in a few moments. Have some rest and we will catch up tomorrow morning.” said Zahim as he turned to go. At the door, he paused and turned back to Martin, “There can be no more going to the chambers under the pyramid or the sphinx without my authorization from now on. Our new guards wont let you in without my personal approval, ok?” sensing Martin’s disappointment, he continued, “Don’t worry, the four of us will go on an expedition very soon. You will like it. Oh, and one more thing, the scooters only have about 8 miles in them so you might want to exchange it every day or two.” “Salaam my son.” “Salaam. ” replied Martin. with that, he mounted his scooter and silently sped off down the hallway. Martin walked over to the door slowly and closed it. As he surveyed the room he was taken back in his mind to a time when the teenage John roamed these halls and studied at this desk. Martin walked over to the lab and looked at the different equipment. Much of it was quite old, the oscilloscope, microscope, and telescope all had their dust covers draped over them. There were glass cabinets with enough pyrex beakers and test tubes to decrypt the gnome he thought. This might have been a turning point for John he thought to himself. Living in a miniature classroom that doubled as a library and laboratory would certainly have its educational advantages. Martin put his coat on the antique coat rack and found the bedroom. He propped up the pillows on the bed as he took off his shoes and leaned back. The roof was encased in a lovely crown molding with panels of wood sectioned off into nine sections. As Martin began to drift off to sleep he recalled a game he used to play as a child by himself. He would look into the wood to find the faces of elves, monsters and other creatures. Martin awoke to the sound of a knock on the door. He opened it to find his things had been brought up from Asram’s jeep, as well as his luggage from the hotel. He let the staff into the room who wordlessly placed his items to the side of the door then left with a nod and a smile. Martin realized they probably didn’t speak English. Just as he went to close the door another staff member brought a cart of food from the kitchen and left it beside the dining table. Martin closed the door behind him when he left. He turned to the cart of food which seemed to be emanating a very delicious smell. After a short but needed feast, Martin settled back into his bed for a well deserved rest.

The buzzing of the unfamiliar telephone stirred Martin from his dreams. As he rose up in his bed he had a moment of unfamiliarity with his surroundings. Asram’s voice came

through the headset, “How are you brother? Did you sleep?” “Yes, what time is it?” Martin asked as he looked at his clock. It was 8:00 pm. “It’s time to celebrate my friend!” said Asram loudly through the receiver. I will come pick you up in the lobby in half an hour!” “Ok” Martin agreed sleepily and hung up the receiver. Martin unpacked his suit case and hung up his clothes. Everything he wanted to wear was wrinkled after spending days in the heat crammed into a suit case. Eventually he found the least wrinkled outfit and put it on. Martin glided down the empty halls and into the elevator. He went to the area where the scooters were kept and parked his and plugged it in. Security verified his credentials and let him through the lobby. As he walked out the door Asram’s jeep hopped up on the curb and took the driveway all the way to the bottom of the stairs. Martin quickened his pace as he saw his friend approach. Martin could see that Asram was in an ecstatic mood as he climbed into the jeep. Asram grabbed his hand and slapped his shoulder. “Salaam my brother!” Salaam to you as well.” replied Martin. “I keep thinking I'm going to wake up back in the cave some where or something strange like that.” Martin laughed, “I keep thinking that as well. Where are we off to?” Asram turned up the stereo and laughed, “To the discotheque of course!” Martin laughed. “Which one?” he said raising his eyebrows and nodding in the direction of Giza. “No, a different one!” They both laughed as the stereo thumped disco songs into the desert night.

Chapter 17During the months to follow Martin and Asram were set upon many different tasks and projects coordinated by Zahim. On occasion Zahim and David would lead them on different explorations of freshly unearthed new tombs and chambers. Martin did eventually learn a form of Egyptian, hieroglyphics. The four fraternal brothers set out upon numerous quest to discover and uncover the ancient secrets of Egypt. David, Asram and Martin were eventually inducted into the Egyptian Sangam to further aid their studies. As Martin continued his research into the Sand Script patterns and expressions he came upon several adaptations of his methods using different types of sand being along with powders metal filings in a cone shaped apparatus to create far more elaborate designs that seemed to defy gravity. He also made a low power unit for Zahim’s own use out of laser pointers and a small set of speakers. Zahim was so enamored with his special cell phone accessory, that he brought it with him to every site thereafter and used it with the custom software Martin dubbed as the iphonoscope. The Counsel sponsored a very large version of the Sand Script device for use at the university. They found that different parts of some of the designs were in use by Sanskrit, Ancient Persian, Latin, Hindi, Greek, Chinese, and so on. In some designs it was as though there were characters from each civilization cut from different parts of the pattern. It seemed to Martin and those involved that they were decrypting Babylon with this great machine. Martin was given some of the oldest tablets ever found to attempt to reverse engineer the designs into sound. On more than one occasion it was discovered that they were indeed songs. Some of the more complex shapes turned out to be chords, 5ths, and 7ths. As his unrestricted access and practice continued, Martin began to be able to think the notes in his mind as he saw the patterns much like a concert pianist, or as was the case with Ludwig van Beethoven’s ability to compose while deaf. Eventually Zahim gives Martin access to

different etched blueprints that depicted giant resonance machines that were put to use in ancient times. They theorize that the steam driven machines could be used to match the resonance of any ancient chamber and temple in the ancient world to send messages, or even crumble it to the ground remotely by forcefully matching the buildings resonance. After a few months of covert research, John had finally surfaced in Martin’s email box. When John was finished in Los Alamos, Zahim invited him for a stay as well. Once John made his way to Egypt, he shared a little of his research ideas on the subject of sound. Los Alamos had been employing him to create very high frequency sound patterns in an attempt to modify certain elements basic structure. It was their belief that through this modern day alchemy, they would be able to complete the periodic table of known elements like a crossword puzzle. He couldn’t tell us just how far they got, but he winked when Martin asked him. As Martin and John began to pool their knowledge they studied ancient texts together under Zahim’s guidance. The came across a group of very ancient scrolls that seemed to become somewhat of a Rosetta Stone. They began with acoustic sounds and continued up the frequency to ultra sound and beyond measure. Near the top John began to recognize patterns that seemed to appear to be microscopic pathogens as well. John believed that there were corresponding patterns describing chemistry and medicine also. Together they discovered that the ancients most certainly did know information of illness and cures, chemistry and medicine. They also had the capability to reproduce some very high level technology. It would seem that their mathematic abilities were really out of this world, really. The Philosopher’s Stone had been discovered by a small group of renegade thinkers. This was a fact known to some men for nearly all of time, yet it was concealed by religious orders, secret societies, kings and queens through the ages and used to enslave and mislead the masses. It seemed to Martin and his friend that the cat, or in this instance, the Sphinx was most certainly out of the bag. The link through everything tangible it seemed, was sound. Everything else was light. The lock, was the universe =‘one song’ the key was sound. “It’s not over until the fat lady sings they say.” Martin said to John one day as they were headed across the desert to catalogue yet another discovery. “Can you hear her singing now old friend?” “Indeed Martin, Eden always sings such a lovely song in the morning!”

The Beginning…