Free science fiction novel. Travel through time and space on an Indiana Jones roller coaster of adventure and romance. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HO0TFD2
Escape to Adventure: The Dreamers Awaken
Available for free for a limited time on Amazon from TODAY to Monday, June 27
Rusty didn’t want anything special, just the man she loves to love her back. Little did she know that her passion for him would lead her across the world and into a legend that reaches back to the beginning of time when men were still apes.
Available for free for a limited time on Amazon from TODAY to Monday, June 27
A science fiction novel that is filled with romance and adventure that leaves your heart pounding and your soul racing like a well tuned Nascar.
Indiana Jones has nothing on her, and she's just beginning!
The first novel of a trilogy that will leave you wondering about how the truth of humanity's beginnings and how long love really does last!
Available for free for a limited time on Amazon from TODAY to Monday, June 27
Invasion of the Fractals.
The Fractal Universe.
The sword is mightier than the pen, but only when it's wielded by men. In God's right hand, the sword is righteousness, honor and courage and never strikes an innocent man down. For true power is not the power to destroy, but the power to lift up and heal. --- Merlin the White Dragonfire.
History is strewn with bodies of the weak and the strong; the high and the mighty; and the weak and the lost. History is much like death it only marks the passing of time, not the creation of it. True time lifts its locks of silver, its caress of gold, its touch of the moment and like the mighty serpent of Creation that winds through all worlds and places, it shelters all beneath its shadow. --- Boggle the Clown.
A better adjective for the old school building portable should have been the Barn, for it smelled more and more like that as the hot days continued to ply at our minds and bodies in the midst of an air conditioning disaster.
I could have let in a fractal breeze to cool off the building, but I was afraid of revealing my power here now because of the recent attack. Maybe Gerald was smarter than I had thought when he said I wasn't giving myself enough credit. He was actually telling me I was being stupid and arrogant...just like Patti...for ignoring the fact that what I did was having a ripple effect in time and space and in the Fractal Universe.
A new law was forming in the back of my mind. What goes up must come down, or in the Fractal Universe, what side steps in and out, will also open paths in and out.
I first became aware of this anomaly about three years ago, but had no name or description for it at the time.
It was shortly after I had performed my first side step into the Fractal Universe. I was so full of myself for the vision of reality I had unleashed and experienced I had ignored the shadow movements about me. True, they weren't exactly hobbling up to me, poking their prickly heads in my face and saying "boo!" but they were there on the edges of my consciousness. I just pretended it was just a side effect, a temporary thing, but something as major as damage to the sidelines between our universes.
I remember reading in the newspaper the next day about a local drug store, a Walgreen's I think, that had a break in, but had set off no alarms, and no cash had been taken, nor any merchandise disturbed, except for in the aisle of balloons. All the balloons were missing.
Only a freaking child would break into a ten million dollar store to steal balloons! I had thought at the time, laughed, then turned off my TV and gone to work, the incident bothering the back of my mind, but relegated to the dustbins of further insight somewhere in some kind of hoary future, cobwebbed with time.
But the two that Senator Murphy had sent to attack me, it turned out where not from him. The bodies of two men, who looked exactly like those two had been found several days later in the field outside the school, rotting there, crows having a time of their life pecking their flesh off. It was by accident they had discovered. A couple of the kids had tossed a Frisbee and it had overshot the back fence. They had climbed over to retrieve it and found the bodies.
They would have bragging rights for weeks about the discovery, but nightmares for much longer.
The FBI and Homeland Security both sent teams to investigate, and shortly after that they came to our school and began interrogating teachers and students. That was when the Tall Man pulled out his deck of cards and laid down a joker.
They vanished as quickly as their investigation had begun. The news media shut down and retractions were announced, saying it was all a hoax. Both boys woke up the next day with memories of the incident wiped from their minds, if not their dreams. There was nothing the Tall Man could do about that without possibly hurting them permanently.
"Chesterton, this is serious business." He told me over a box of doughnuts and coffee. I had been retrieved from school during my second period class to meet with him. Patti covered for me while I side stepped from there to here, where I presently sat.
"Tell me about it." I said between bites of a cinnamon roll and sips of coffee.
He nodded, as if I had just expounded the most profound words of all time, then set his half eaten chocolate doughnut down, wiped his hands, then touched the folder between us. It was labeled: INVASION. In very, very big letters. Bold and black.
He flipped it open.
Gerald Butler stood in the doorway of my room, searching it with his eyes.
"Before you go side stepping out of here in anger because we've been watching you, look at what's behind him."
"Mind Reader." I snapped at him, side stepping back into my chair just moments after slipping away. I took the photo in my hands and eyed it closely. I brought it closer to my eyes. It couldn't be. And then memories came flooding back. Memories that I had buried in the hoary cobwebbed depths of my mind for future reference. Well, the future was here and now.
I set it down, my face hot and flushed. "I hate people watching me! It makes me feel like Big Brother is alive and well and seated in my backyard."
"He is. But it's not him you got to worry about." He tapped the blurry forms behind Gerald. "The fact that he didn't even notice makes me even more nervous. Neither one of you spotted these things."
"Well, you wouldn't have either without this..."
"Camera. Nano camera. It's embedded in the ceiling of your room. A special spray paint that we can activate at any given time and can provide any angle we desire."
"Tech that advanced?"
"Watching my kids?"
"No. You, Chesterton."
"Although we have a great deal of insights into what you do, we still don't know how yet. We need to know how."
I sighed. I had let them in. My lighthearted soul had just got rung out and hung up to dry. If Patti had been there at that moment, she would have smacked me on the side of t he head and kissed me at the same time. At least that's my vision of what might occur. Probably not the reality. I don't want you to start thinking I'm a masochist, or she's sadistic. Quite the contrary. I am hard headed and stubborn at times, but usually for a good reason. She's just straightforward enough to see through my prima donna moments and quick to correct them. How lucky can a guy get?
"So how do we stop this?"
I gave him a surprised look. "You're the Tall Man. The guy beneath the President. Literally." And he was. This office was buried deep beneath the White House so the President had instant access to its resources at his disposal, as well as the safest place on the planet to bail out to, should such a thing become necessary.
Suddenly, my cinnamon roll was looking pretty bleak and tasteless. I felt like my favorite peak had somehow managed to bite my ass and feed it to me for breakfast.
He reached across the table and patted my hand. "It's not that bad, Chesterton."
"Yes. It is." I disagreed.
"Yes. You're right." He agreed, which just sent me deeper into the craphouse of my regrets.
I looked up. "We need friends in high places."
"We have them."
I brightened. "You do?"
He didn't reply. His eyes never left mine.
I boggled for a moment, and then recovered my senses. "Patti's gonna hate me."
This brings us back to my present plight, a portable school building that even a horse would be disgusted with and an angry mob of forty adolescents who yearned for happier times. I sent out for the tenth round of A & W frosted mugs and fries and when done, I side stepped them to the front door, and knocked on it.
Morris opened it, glanced around. "Mister K, no one's there."
"How about our drinks and fries, Morris?"
He looked down. "Uh, sure, they're here."
"Please bring them in."
He did so.
We spent the next ten minutes luxuriating in the greasy depths of salty potatoes and frosty mugs of root beer...not actually mugs, really just cartons heaped with shaved ice, but who's complaining?
Finally, the last bell of the day rang and the kids plowed out of the room, leaving cartons and containers littering the room. And surprises only Shondel and Morris remained.
Morris gave me a shy look. "I'd like to help, Mister K."
He gave Shondel a sweet smile. She gave him one back. Who could have seen this coming?
In ten minutes my room smelled like an angelic barn once more, and the two kids departed, each absorbed in the other's talk as they stepped outside and left.
I sat down behind my desk and considered the small miracle that had happened. Every once in awhile all the hard work actually pays off and a kid or two will rise above the herd mentality and become more than they can be. Real human beings. Likable and lovable. A teacher's only reward, besides the low paychecks and long, long sweaty hours is having a child or two actually get it. Actually understand there's more to life than "Me!" When that happens, it's a time to celebrate, kick up the heels and relax. But only for a few moments, because next we have to start filling out all the administrative paperwork, replying to all the parents... (Maybe two or three if we're lucky)...who want to help, and get prepared for the next day's round of Herculean labors.
It was at that zenith of expectations that my door opened unexpectedly and Gerald stepped inside. "So soon?"
"Always too soon and too late." He replied sadly, and then flung the door open.
Across the school grounds, which were becoming shrouded in shadow from the setting sun. It was late, almost seven. Wow! Time flies when you're having fun. But across that expanse of ground was rushing a horde of demonic fractals, horned and four legged, with mean looking teeth and eyeballs to match.
I stood up, and brushed my hands off.
"You sure know how to get a guy's attention."
He grinned. "Yeah. Just like a first date, ain't it?"
I gave him a shocked look. "Hey! Let's keep this strictly personal between us."
He laughed and I stepped outside with him, reaching into side space for the nearest weapon I kept there, a huge blade with smaller blades that roared like miniature buzz saws, because they were and he and I rushed the oncoming horde, like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid rushing to their death.
Except I had no desire whatsoever to die here and now. Least not before I had another Sweetkins Fried Chicken Breast.
We both roared at the top of our lungs, ran like proud knights, which we were and began slicing and pounding into the horde.
Will Chesterton K and his new found friend, Gerald Butler be able to hack and slash and pound their way through the horde of fractal monsters? Will Chesterton get to finish his cinnamon role? Will Gerald still be alive to insult his new friend yet again?
Come back on November 20th to find out.
I am now reverting to posting just once a month now to free up time to do more publishing and writing. Thanks for your reads and visits so far. Looking forward to more of same in the future.
Meanwhile, side step into happiness!
Novels. After Shock One. After Shock Two. A look at what happens after the Big One. How do people deal with such an enormous loss?
When I first embarked on my first story about these remarkable people, they were not on the surface, but heading towards the Center of the Earth. On a mission to find and eliminate the source of the Big One, an earthquake so devastating that it struck down all the major cities of the world.
The story followed a team of Special Forces who bravely go into the interior of the earth, not even sure if they will find a way inside, let alone a way to their goal. Brave men and women dedicated to discovering the truth and righting the wrongs that were cast upon our fair earth and its people.
We followed their trek into the interior, pursued by the knowledge that the Earth soon would face a life extinguishing quake if they didn't reach their goal.
Enroute they face sabotage, monsters that shouldn't exist, alien forces that are remarkable in their savagery and cunningness.
But even in the midst of so much destruction and sabotage, they find a measure of friendship that endures the ongoing challenges of their mission.
Four stories into the trek, the brave team has lost friends, faced death, been wounded, and faced a dark and horrible ending beyond the love of the ones they left behind.
By the fifth story, two of the Special Forces have been lost, and are supposedly dead, but it turns out they have survived, unknown to their friends. In their saga they face certain death and a friendship totally unexpected and unusual in any and all ways.
And still the story moves on, following the Special Forces as they continue on what has become to them a trail of death into the unknown.
But in my newer stories, After Shock One, being the first, we follow what happens to the citizens left behind. How do they cope with the ongoing afteshocks of the Big One. How do they cope with a civilization that is not only been shattered, but must rebuild from scratch.
In these stories, which leads to After Shock Two, we follow a few personalities who must not only survive a horrid experience, but summon the courage to help others less fortunate than themselves. Both stories are about heroes and heroines. People who care deeply about life so much, that they refuse to give up!
I"ve put a lot of thought into the above journeys, and at this time I am working on a new series based on the above ones, which will trace the Big One back to its roots. Where did it all begin? Why?
Meanwhile, I will continue to follow m brave teams exploring the inside of our planet in their desire to save the world from utter destruction.
Science fiction at its finest and perhaps even a prediction of what could be if we don't change our ways and our attitude towards Mother Earth.
Next post is my theme music for After Shock One.
Coming soon to Amazon! Escape to a love that spans thousands of years. Escape to another time and world. Escape to Adventure!
Sherlock Holmes and the Cliffhanger. Part 3: The Turning. A Baker Street Adventure. They're among us!
The monster let out a roar that sounded like water mixed with the sound of a lion, and closed in rapidly on Sherlock and James.
The monster staggered in its charge a brief moment, and then renewed its plunge towards them, its claws dripping acid this time, which caused burning sizzles on the rich and plush carpet on the floor. James kicked the chair nearest him into the creature, slowing it down further, while discharging the rest of his bullets into its head. Putrid matter splattered over the Queen’s shiny desktop and the documents, then oozed in slimy pellets of murky blood red towards the floor, where it began moving of its own will back to the creature, who had staggered to a halt once more.
“Catch!” Sherlock cried out.
James turned to catch old of a tapestry that Sherlock had ripped from the back wall and together they ran forwards towards the creature, catching its thick body in the midst of the tapestry. They staggered for a moment from the impact, and then recovered as the creature struggled to make sense of what they had done, and began pulling it towards the massive window that the Queen had fallen from.
The creature began slashing at the tapestry, causing it to slowly tear. It was a thickly embroidered material, but not so thick as to stop the hard nails of the creature, who tore at the cloth with its nails, while striving to catch Sherlock or James with its gaping mouth of razor sharp teeth it had sprouted.
“NOW!” Sherlock hollered.
He and James gave it all they had and the creature lost its balance and hurtled backwards along with the tapestry and then tilted over the edge of the window and plunged roaring with anger from sight. They fell backwards from the release and staggered on their feet, retrieving their balance to rush for the window opening as the last sounds of the creature vanished.
They leaned out and the Queen was just below the window, glaring angrily up at them.
“What does a lady have to do to get rescued these days?”
Doctor Watson’s thick sideburns bounced heartily as he laughed beside an embarrassed James Moriarity, who sat near the fireplace, warming his hands. Sherlock sat in his favorite chair, tamping his pipe tobacco firm, watching with the hint of amusement upon his lips.
“I dare say it could not have gotten any worse.” James despaired.
Watson stopped laughing, and sat down on the sofa near his friend. “James, you were the fox caught in the glare of the Tesla lamp. Not much you could have done better.”
Sherlock nodded. “James is such a loss when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex.”
James glared at him. “And where is your opposite sex, Holmes?”
Watson laughed again.
“Not likely.” He spurted out.
Sherlock took the teases with good spirits as he usually did these days.
“Gentlemen, there has only been and will ever be one woman in my life. And she has sadly been deported from my world and this.”
James sobered up, his anger fading. Watson looked distressed.
“Oh, come, come dear Watson, it’s not as if we ever really had anything going. Her being an imposter, a traitor, a thief and an ill-mannered and arrogant sport of a woman.”
Having said that Sherlock sighed, his pipe momentarily forgotten. “What God hath wrought, she put asunder, and sadly, her life as well.”
A knock on the flat’s door brought Sherlock from his melancholy and he set his pipe down on the side table next to him, rose and went down the stairs to see to the door, leaving Watson and James alone in a thick sort of silence.
Finally, James spoke up. “I have distressed our friend dearly.”
Watson nodded. “Yes and no. Yes, you reminded him of his loss, but no, he has lost something no man can ever, ever retrieve…the illusion of happiness.”
“Are you saying he never loved this woman he speaks of so infrequently?”
“No. Only that…” Watson’s eyes grew distant as he remembered his own lost love in the Chinas. “Only that sometimes there’s what we have, what we want to have, what we thought we had, and what is really happening with our lives.”
The conversation died when Inspector Bloodstone, Constable Evans and Sherlock came up the stairs. The Inspector eyed the teapot on the table.
“Help yourself, Inspector.” Watson greeted him. “I made enough for all of us.”
“Don’t mind if I do, Doctor.” The Inspector replied, helping himself to a fine china tea cup, a silver spoon, sugar, a dash of honey, and hot steaming tea.
Constable Evans sat down next to James. “Been a long day.”
James smiled. “Is there ever a time when it is not anymore?”
Sherlock sat on his chair again, finished tamping the tobacco into his pipe, struck a long wooden match, lit it, and then took several long drags, before executing a few puffs of hollow smoke that resembled doughnuts.
“You’re getting better with the holes, I must say.” The Inspector said amiably, as he took a chair at the table and sat down to sip at his own tea.
Sherlock acknowledged the compliment with a nod, but his eyes were growing distant.
“I hear the Queen was a bit out of sorts before you left the Tower.” The Inspector said.
James blushed in embarrassment again, and looked away as the Inspector eyed him
“I wouldn’t know.” James said, pretending ignorance.
“Oh come now, James.” Sherlock finally spoke up. “Your strong arm is the one that pulled her from a certain fall, not mine!” Sherlock exclaimed.
“But still, a chivalrous man is not meant to look down a ladies’…” He couldn’t even speak of the torn blouse that had exposed her breasts from the drop she had made and which had so dangerously precipitated her nearly to her death.
“Plus.” Watson joked. “Not many are ever allowed such an intimate view and live to talk about it afterwards. She must like you somewhat, James.”
James blushed an even more deep red at the implications of Watson’s words.
“I’m an honorable man. I would never engage in such actions, or even fantasies thereof.”
Sherlock stood up and motioned for the two to stop. “We must address the problem we face. James has enough on his mind, as do I, without referring to the gentlemanly habits or lack thereof we each purvey to the world.”
“Very well.” The Inspector said. “I shall go first then. I have it quite clear now that we are dealing with the same manner of creature that invaded London some time back. That much is for certain. But what is not certain is how we shall deal with the matter this time.”
He gave Watson a concerned look as Watson squirmed uneasily from the mention of before. But he managed to retrieve his dignity and said. “This time it shall have none of us to lure to a trap or diminish our abilities.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Sherlock cut in, his eyes as cold as ice as he spoke.
Watson gave him a distressed look. “Surely, surely you do not think I…”
Sherlock’s glance softened. “Watson, I could never accuse you of such villainy, even were you one of them. There is too much that has passed between us for that.”
“I agree.” James said, rising to go to the widow and look out. He saw his past times with Watson before his eyes, as well as the long and trying adventure he was kidnapped into, but from which he emerged physically scarred, but not emotionally, and with the woman of his life. Not a bad bargain for a few pounds of flesh, he thought to himself.
“Jules believes that these new ones are not from the original excursion from Mars, but are instead descendants there from.”
Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. “But if there could be two…”
“There could be more.” Constable Evans spoke up, stretching and yawning at the same time. “Anymore tea left, father.”
The Inspector glared at him a moment, then nodded. He didn't like being called father in front of others; he was a very old fashioned man when it came to mixing work and family. Feeling they should be separate.
Constable Evans rose, poured himself a cup and drank it down hot and black. He sighed with relief. “I needed that. May I have another?”
His father, the Inspector, started to pour some more, but the pot was empty.
Watson rose. “I’ll take it and refill it. Be just a moment.”
“Don’t bother yourself, Doctor.” The Constable cut in.
“No bother at all. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to smell all the sweet odors left behind by Mrs. Hudson while she is gone.”
He vanished down the stairs, leaving four deeply amused men.
The Inspector watched where Watson had vanished. “He is like a rabbit caught in a snare.”
“Would that I was so lucky.” Constable Evans quipped.
They all laughed, and then James continued his line of logic. “Logically, if there were descendants…”
“Then they would also have a place of birth.”
“London?” The Inspector asked.
“I think not.” Sherlock said, shaking his head.
“And why do you think that?” The Inspector inquired, obviously expecting some kind of revelation from the detective.
“First, we know that these creatures can hibernate very, very long periods of time.”
“The museum mummy.” James pointed out.
“Yes.” The Inspector agreed. “Go on.”
“Second.” Sherlock continued. “We know that they can imitate any living being.”
“Agreed.” Constable Evans spoke up. “But how does that explain where these new ones have originated from? It could as easily be Paris or even the new colonies as here.”
“I agree.” James joined in. “It does lead to a rather large gap in our knowledge here.”
“Not at all.” Sherlock said, rising from his chair.
He took a map, which had been lying on a bench near the fire and laid it out on the table. The others rose to glance at it as Sherlock stuck a long, artistic finger on the map. “The museum.”
“Where it was first discovered.” The Inspector said.
“Not discovered, Inspector, revealed! Need I remind you that the mummy, or creature that was hibernating, had been brought to the museum from another locale.”
Constable Evans perked up. “Outside of the Britains!”
“Exactly.” Sherlock agreed.
He touched a new spot on the map. “And here is where we must go to nip this in the bud.”
The other men leaned forward to look more closely where Sherlock’s finger gestured.
Watson came up the stairs with a new tray, filled with a fresh teapot and small sandwiches. He froze at the look upon the faces of those about Sherlock.
“Why do I think I’m not going to like this?”
“When does Mrs. Hudson return?” Sherlock asked in a monotone voice.
Watson’s throat tightened. “I am truly not going to like this.”
And then Sherlock told him where they were going.
The Sum of All Fears
Journey to the Center of the Earth
By John Pirillo
No one knew how long they'd been down under as they were beginning to call their trek through the vast, seemingly unending tunnels and labyrinths of stone and molten lava rivers. Yet, no matter how far they walked, or how long, it seemed the path was never ending.
Once they had gotten excited when they found what could not be ignored: Proof that Jules Verne had actually made a trek beneath the earth. The only question was how he had gotten so far and how he had found his way back home. Perhaps more importantly yet, why?
Why had he made the journey?
Why had he risked his life and that of his party of brave friends?
What had they hoped to achieve?
If they could answer one of those questions it might yet help them determine a positive and perhaps saving turn in their own downward spiral...it had to be that...into the interior of the planet, Earth.
Rush, a former explorer, had been at the height of his career, preparing to ascend Mount Everest with the woman of his life, whom he had been fighting with in their mountain chalet in Switzerland when the Big One struck.
His fortune, his fame, his life, his love had all been swept away by cascading avalanches of snow, ice and rising walls of lake water.
Just like that Rush had lost everything. All hope. All life.
It had taken the Special Forces and their mission to enliven his heart again. That and finding men and women, who like himself, were haunted by a past they hoped to forget and a future they hoped to save.
Everett was a spicy Brit, a Professor, a climatologist who had warned everyone that something big was in the air, but no one had believed him. And after it happened, no one believed it then either. He had been there in London, just a short distance from the famous headquarters of the last two Beatles when the Big One had struck.
He had watched in horror as building had been lifted like child's toys and plummeted back to the ground in thousands of pieces, seen civilians smashed, rended, and torn by flying debris, collapsing edifices, and hurtling pieces of metallic cars that had lost control.
Both men had a lot to forget and now. And now?
Rush and Everett looked more and more like the cavemen they were beginning to look like. They had both given up trying to keep their beards shaved and their hair short. Now, they just threw their beards over their shoulders, and wrapped their hair in tight bundles on top their heads.
"If the President could see us now, he'd think he'd gone back in time." Everett grouched, picking at the tiny creatures that now inhabited his scalp and hair. Yeah. It was hell down there. Bugs were everywhere. All sizes.
"Rowlf!" Their tall bug like companion noted and both men just grunted, sounding like Cavemen too.
Rowlf barked in his grinding low voice and both men did their best to ignore his laughter. It was becoming more and more irritating and besides he was starting to look like a walking turkey breast. None of them had eaten for about eleven days now. Water was abundant. Their trek had brought them to an underground stream that poured downwards along their path.
Without the water, no doubt both men would have died long ago. Both were familiar with the concept of fasting, but neither particularly enjoyed having to do one because they had no other choice. It's one thing to fast when you know you can raid that frig at any given time, but when the only thing you can raid is an eight foot plus Insectoid, who also happened to be a friend, then fasting became distasteful as well as painful.
"Remember when there used to be KFCS all over the place." Rush reminisced during one of their more and more frequent stops.
Rowlf listened behind them, still as a statue, for some reason he'd become more and more quiet as the two men slowly starved to death. Whether it was because he feared for their lives, or was himself beginning to see them as walking meals, no one knew. No one wanted to conjecture or voice their own fears, knowing each had enough as it was to weigh their minds down.
"Yeah. And the fries at Burger King. Those new fancy ones that were low fat." Everett added, wiping at the spittle gathering in his mouth as his hunger pains kicked in again.
Last time they did that he had thrown up.
It was supposed to make you throw up. Being hungry, but when the stomach hurt that bad, it no longer obeyed the laws of the universe, but began turning in on itself. He could tell his body was beginning to eat itself up. He could put a finger around his wrist effortlessly. Before it would have taken his hand to do that.
Rush nodded. "And when grasshoppers and night bugs were the worst of it."
Rush glanced over at Rowlf, who was still silent. "My apologies, Rowlf, no insult intended to your family line.
"Rowlf nots buggy." He finally said, then lapsed into silence.
Everett looked at Rush. "See! Now look what you've done. You've insulted our meal...I mean our best friend."
Rowlf stomped off, leaving the two of them behind.
Everett pulled himself up and wobbled on his legs a moment, then sat back down.
"Great! Just when dinner was getting so close."
Everett chuckled. "You know I didn't mean it."
"Yeah, but he doesn't!"
Everett sighed. "Do you ever wonder...?"
"If we're the last humans?"
"Constantly." Rush said with a grunt, picking at another critter trying to get into his right ear. He caught it and held its struggling form out before his friend. "Whose turn?"
Rush made a face and popped the bug into his mouth and began chewing it. For a brief moment it struggled for its life before his teeth mashed it into bug matter and juices, which he savored for the length of time it lasted. About two seconds.
" For all we know the Hollow Earth Special Forces are just echoes streaming down towards the center of the earth now, hollow memories in a hollow world of hollow souls fleeing to nothing and nowhere."
"Wow! That was really philosophical." Rush pointed out with a sigh. He scratched at his head and clasped another struggling critter between his fingers.
Everett scowled at the creature and shook his head. "I'd rather die."
"You will die if you don't eat." Rush reminded him.
"We're dying anyway. They're living off us. We're living off them. The balance is shifting not to us, but to them. You know it. I know it. We're just meals on wheels."
He barked with laughter.
Rush joined him.
The two men stopped as suddenly as they had started.
"I wonder what it's like to be with a woman again."
Everett looked over. "What? My hair too much for you?"
"You idiot! I like girls, not Neanderthals!"
Everett made a girl swing of his beard hairs and a cutesy smile, fluttering his eyes in a mock flirtaceous glance at his friend. "Not even once...for old time's sake?"
Rush scowled at him. "There's never been an old time's sake and there's not going to be a new time's sake. We'll be dead first."
Everett let his beard hairs drop back over his shoulder again and sighed. "Do you think angels have sex?"
Both men got very, very tight faces and then they broke into a laughter so bright and clean that both got their energy back, even if temporarily.
Rush stood up, t hen gave his friend a hand up.
They leaned on their stone spears and eyed the direction Rowlf had gone. "Down or sideways?" Rush asked.
Everett snorted. "Does it even matter?"
"Well, for one the water goes down...."
"And for two, Rowlf went that way."
"He's our friend." Everett agreed.
Without another world both men made their way along the moss lit path that wound round and round great glowing lichen covered boulders and past glowing streams of lava that coursed in channels parallel to the water they needed to survive.
As they descended the path broadened.
Everett suddenly stopped and put a hand up.
Rush looked at him, almost falling over he was so weak.
Everett grabbed him to steady him. "You smell that?"
Everett pointed ahead. "That. That!"
Then Rush smelled it.
Both men held onto each other and hobbled as fast as they could to reach the origin of the smell. They forced their sore feet, their weak muscles, their tight backs and sore arms to carry them the hundred yards necessary to reach a weak fire, set by a stream of molten lava.
Rowlf sat there on a stone, while he rolled over with a thinner stone, shaped like a branch, several odd looking bloated things that steamed in a bowl of water he had forced from the flowing stream to lay next to the molten lava and warm it up to cooking temperature.
Both men stumbled to a stop as Rowlf turned to eye them. "Twaste wike chicken!"
He cackled and both men laughed.
"I don't care if it tastes like my old tennies right about now." Russ said, and then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fainted dead away.
Rowlf got up and hurried over to Everett who was barely able to lay his friend down, before he also collapsed. He lay beside Russ and closed his eyes.
"Whatever you do, Rowlf. Don't bury me next to that lice infected sonuva bitch, will ya?"
And then he lost consciousness as well.
A bright light flickered in his face.
"Go away!" He cursed.
The light flickered again.
"I said go away!" He cursed even louder.
Then something stuck him in the arm. He screamed, and then woke up all the way.
General Miles Davison loomed over him, watching with a smile, as Nurse Betty administered to him. She stabbed him with another shot, after which he cursed again, but not at her, instead at Russ who lay next to him, watching silently.
Russ reached a hand over. "We made it, pal."
Everett looked again at Nurse Betty. "Do you like to dance?"
She stabbed him with a third shot and he began to lose consciousness. "That isn't an answer." He slurred, and then vanished in a peaceful slumber.
She turned to Russ, who was looking ready to go out himself. "If it wasn't for your friend, Rowlf finding us, you'd both be dead. What in the world did you two eat that horrid thing for?"
Russ grinned. "When in Rome..."
General Miles sat down next to Russ and patted him on the knee.
Then Russ became aware that dozens of men and women were gathered about him and Everett, all smiling. "Did I die and go to heaven. And if I did, why aren't any of you wearing wings?"
Nurse Betty laughed and turned to General Miles. "Can I keep this one?"
And that sweet voice was all that Russ heard for the next sixty four hours as he descended deeper and deeper into the Hollow Earth alongside his best friends, Everett and Rowlf, as they searched for a way home.
Peripheral. The Worlds of If. The Fractal Universe. By John Pirillo. "Watch out for those little fellows!"
The Worlds of If
The Fractal Universe
By John Pirillo
Most organizations, whether large or small, have some kind of orderliness to them; even it's only to the extent of having an answering service with a directory of the four or so names in the business...or even two! What makes an organization unique and awesome in many ways is neither the size, nor the orderliness of it, but its status in the larger scheme of things.
Well, to me, that is not being a judge, a cook, a dress maker, a policeman, or a soldier. It is being part of something so vast, so indefinable that to even try to put words to it lessens it and consequently lessens you.
I am, of course, referring to the Fractal Universe.
The Worlds of If as I prefer to call the conjunctive and ever expanding and colliding universes of this vast creation are so remarkably stand alone pure and pristine that they make our own Creation and universe seem paltry by comparison.
This is not to say that God's done a so-so job on our trillions of worlds, only that that Being, whether you want to call it a Him, a Her, or something else suitable like Creator, or Master of Light or whatever, just never hung up his celestial hat once he had finished defining our own motley collection of large orbs and smaller planets. He hadn't just slung an almost infinite amount of comets and asteroids to intersect our nearly infinite plane of beingness, but had gone on to further define it on a much smaller scale, of even vaster proportions.
Imagine if you will if you could somehow perceive all the atoms and electron, neutrons, protons, and infinitely smaller particles within the tip of your index finger. What would you really see? Would you see blood, bone, and muscle or would you find instead a thriving, ever expanding universe of orderly particles...sub universes that shook hands and agreed to take on a certain form...in this instance our index finger tip.
But let's take this supposition even further. What if light itself, or perhaps what we perceive as light, like fractals; what if they were also universes as well, and not just a handful, but an infinite, colliding, conjunctive and ever connected arc of ever contracting and expanding collections of matter so fine and so delicate that even our electronic microscopes would have a hard time grasping them?
Imagine if you will that infinite void above us, but then take your eyes inward to another infinite void that existed within our defined mathematics. Our sciences. Our imagination! There. Now I've said it. Imagine. Imagination. The next and possibly the only true universe of existence, which includes all things material and immaterial. Physical and imaginary.
I know. It's a lot to grasp. But what if?
"So sometimes one plus one equals more than one." I explained to the rapt faces in front of me.
Actually, they weren't...rapt. Jimmy was picking his nose. Evelyn was texting on her phone. Herman was kicking the back of Jane's chair. Ruben was making snarky remarks about me to his friend across the aisle and Jake was just dulling out, his eyes blank...probably just like his mind. The bulk of the kids were good kids, but some of them were born seriously lacking imagination and moral conscience. I don't say that lightly, because I'd had the pleasure...lightly spoken...of meeting their parents and the kids with the best parents often times had the best chance of succeeding. The kids with the not at home parents, divided families, or just plain ignorant families...well, they had an uphill battle.
I took it all in stride, striving to put all of them on equal footing and usually failing as most teachers do. Because...minus political correctness...the reality is that not all kids are created equal and not all kids will be a success...of any kind. Their genetic makeup, their imagination, their will to live and prosper just isn't there.
Now, you can go after me for saying that, but you'd be ignoring the Seventh Law of Thermodynamics...which, incidentally, I myself invented...that consciousness seeks its own level. I don't believe that people are born equal...unless you take into account their first years of helplessness and dependence upon the big guys...parents. No kids are born fully formed in their brains with all the ifs, maybes, yes and no's already organized and ready to fire upon birth. What they did with that mass of colliding impulses we call free will.
Unfortunately, free will is not all it's knocked out to be. Free will is impacted by genetics, where you are born, what choices you have as a child, etc...In other words...your karma.
I'm not going to go into the Eighth Law of Thermodynamics...which a few men like Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed and Krishna did much better jobs of explaining. Let me just say that earth is a training planet. For me. For you. For everybody. And if you think you can ever sneak out of classes and ditch school, you're playing the fool to yourself. The whole freaking world is a school.
Now that I've had my rant, let's go on.
"Herman, what's a fractal?"
"Uhhh." He answered, his eyes on his neighbor, his hand under his table motioning for help. His neighbor Josh Tranks shook his head, his own mind just as blank at that moment.
I immediately saved his honor by scrawling in my own stunted chicken scratching handwriting the formula for a Mandelbrot fractal. "Anyone recognize this?"
Heidi jumped up. Not really. Yawned, and then raised her hand. "Mandel butt's equation."
"Mandelbrot, Heidi. Mandelbrot."
"Yeah. Whatever." She replied, back to yawning again.
I eyed her a moment thoughtfully, then turned to the other kids. High school sucks for most kids because it wakes them up early, rushes them from class to class, never gives them enough time to absorb anything before whisking them on to more information. In the fifteen years I had been teaching I'd seen the level of awareness in students slowly sink as they faced a morass of repetitive tests and antiquated dating of norms that even a caveman would snort at.
In other words school had become the equivalent of prison to most kids. Myself included. By the way, my name is Chesterton K. I'm a super nerd. I wear Star Wars tennies, extra long hair with blue or red sparkles sometimes, a Yoda t-shirt on Fridays and I rarely if ever sleep. Not because I don't want to, I just have a full life. Being a teacher was not something I was born to a calling to fulfill, rather a way for me to insinuate myself into the brains of kids and hopefully spark some imagination bombs in them so that in the future they would wake up on this great big lesson planet and make something better of it...and more importantly...themselves.
"Good answer, Heidi." I pointed out and they swiftly drew a very odd looking design on the board with a combination of dry markers of red, green, orange, blue and yellow. When I was done I had a reasonable fact simile of a Mandelbrot fractal.
Heidi had stopped yawning. "Can I do that?"
I nodded. Gave her the markers and stood back with bated breath.
She began drawing something that quickly formed into Mario from the Mario Brothers games. The whole class broke into laughter.
The bell rang.
She dumped the markers onto my desk, and then hurried out with the rest of the students. Mark, a somewhat slow student, but with a great big heart was the last to leave. He put an apple on my desk, gave me a shy smile and exited. It was then I noticed Patti standing there with crossed arms and a huge smile.
"Reminds me of the Willy Wonk and the Chocolate Factory movie where Mister Wonka is given the stolen candy and he treasures it."
"Yeah. Except in the movie he gets to call the shots. I don't. I'm just a miserable, underpaid, overworked, underappreciated teacher struggling to..."
She shut my mouth. With a kiss.
Patti's my girlfriend. My better half and the part that keeps my feet on the ground, at least when she's not kissing me, which at that point threatens to launch me into orbit.
I settled down and she shoved the door closed lest kids see us in each other's arms. It was the end of the day.
"So how did your day go?" She asked, as if she didn't already know.
"Mostly like the others. Period One. Period Two. Period Thre...." She cut off my list with another kiss, and then pulled back.
"I'm surprised you're not off to wonderland again."
I gave her a shrewd look. Ever since I had fractalized with her, she'd been bugging me to do it again, but I worried about her ability to handle it. She didn't have the genetic makeup I did. She needed someone to hold her hand, to keep her safe. I wasn't sure I could always do that. The Fractal Universe is huge and has many surprises.
Neutrally I responded. "Still working off my last trip there."
She grinned. "Liar, liar."
"I know, my blue hairs on fire."
"Speaking of which." She cut in.
I gave her a serious look. She had just given me a whopper of a speaking of which tone that brought all my alarms alert and ringing. "What do you mean?"
She brushed my hair.
The darn school board was after teachers again. As if we didn't have enough to do and think about, they kept finding ways to make our lives more miserable. Here...another stack of tests to give the kids that doesn't mean a damned thing. Here...another set of rules you must not break because it won't be politically correct to call a small person a small person because they might feel...well, small. I was sick of it. If I wasn't already independently wealthy, I'd quit my job and become a bum on a beach in Hawaii.
You might ask why Hawaii...or what rich has to do with it...and I'd probably ignore you. None of your business. But I'll answer this time. Because I care. I really do. Can I help it if God shot me into this world with twelve cylinders when most barely can use one or two of theirs? Sometimes I wondered how Einstein handled it during his life, and then I realized how. Humor and humble. Not political correctness and shutting up. Humor and humble. True genius does not need to stick its hand up and wave it all over the place. It just is and does. Is and does.
"When's the meeting?"
"That's tonight!"I almost screamed in alarm.
"I'm sorry. I knew what your response would be..."
"So you decided to cut my legs out from under me just before it happened?"
"Thanks!" I told her and gave her an extra big hug and kiss.
I let her go and she almost dropped.
She opened her eyes. "When you kiss me like that I am suddenly not in my body, but floating in some strange place...some..."
She shook her head. "Be there, okay?"
I sighed. "Okay. But I won't promise I won't buy all the schools and fire the board. I can do that you know."
She smiled sadly. "I know." Then she exited.
Sad. I'd made her sad. Sometimes my humor imploded in my face.
I really could buy all the schools and fire the school board. I think that sometimes they wanted me to do that so they wouldn't actually have to do something right by the students and teachers for once, instead of sucking up to the politicians and do-gooders who lived on the edge of political correctness. Hoping that I would give them relief. No way was that going to happen. They'd made their bed. Let them learn how to sleep in it.
I straightened up my desk, and then instead of exiting the room, I exited the world.
I sidestepped from the desk into a brooding flow of colored lights that swirled in infinite patterns of subdued grays and golds. It was awesome.
Of all the fractal worlds of the Fractal Universe I visit, the fractal flame ones are the best. The very best. I call them worlds and that would be a loose term. As in actuality each one of them is like a universe onto itself, but so much more complex than our own. Each of these visits reminded me to be humble and kept me humble. Because no matter how smart I thought and knew I was, there was someone who encompassed all of Reality who was way far smarter.
I smiled upwards. Which is silly, because that Being is everywhere and you could as easily smile at yourself in the mirror, or a plant, a dog, or a star and it would still be expressed and received in the same way.
I sat on the edge of a roaring fractal river. Its tiny repeating stars flowed and overflowed each other as they rushed along banks of green, lithe sprouts of fractal plants topped by blossoms of gold fractal flower petals. I never got tired of this place. It refreshed me and took a load off my mind when I had to face the powers that be.
"Happening again, huh?" The Tall Man said as he sat down beside me.
"You really got to stop horning in on my fantasies." I told him, ignoring him.
He laughed. "Fat chance."
We both sat there silently a long time watching the stars rush along the river bed made of Mandelbrot patterns and Julian extrusions. Finally, I sat up and eyed him.
He's tall. Like me, but a bit thicker in the body. I could probably outrun him, but he could probably throw me down in a wrestling match...if I played fair that is. "You know?"
"Call me Santa."
"Santa. You know?"
He sighed. Took a hard look at me. "You know he's behind it, don't you?"
"I thought he was taken into the deepest, darkest dungeon and chained to a wall."
The Tall man laughed. "Sounds a little too predictable, don't you think?"
I sighed. "So life sucks still."
"And then some. He's out."
"What!" I jumped to my feet.
He rose and put hands on my shoulders. "Don't go doing something stupid, Chesterton, we'll handle it."
"Like you're handling tonight's meeting?" I asked.
"No, like you're handling it. That's your territory. Not mine."
"So what good is it to work for you, if just any goon with delusions of grandeur can walk up and crucify me?"
He gave me a serious look. "Speaking of delusions of grandeur."
I sighed. "Okay. Okay. I get it. Lay low. Play fair and carry a big stick."
"A really big stick." He advised, and then side stepped from my reality back to his.
Then a thought occured to me. How did he just do that?
I thought I was the only one with the ability to fractalize and he'd just not only horned in on my fantasy world, but had the nerve to do it right in front of my face and then vanish again.
I stood before the School Board, shoving my pink speckled black hair out of my eyes. I didn't have to do that. I was just rubbing it in. On them!
The Director shuffled some paperwork in his hands, and then cleared his throats. He was an older man in his seventies and I suspected he was the one in the back pocket of the Senator. So I paid no attention to the four women on the right or the four men on the left. Maybe I should have. Maybe not.
"Mister K. That is your last name, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir. Unless someone changed it without informing me."
He looked up sharply. "Was that a yes then?"
I sighed inwardly. He was going to try and hard ball me. I could read it in his beady little eyes. "Yes."
"Very well." He shuffled the paperwork again, and then gently set it down.
I don't trust people who shuffle paperwork and then put it down gently. War signs. Alarm bells. Danger, Will Robinson!
He put his chin on the cup of his palms then eyed me further. "It has come to our attention that your manner of dress..."
I tugged at my Yoda shirt and shuffled my Star Wars tennies.
"...That your way of expressing yourself..."
I thought of expressing myself then, but I held it back. But the tide was rushing in. Look out if it comes all the way.
"...That your use of abstract sciences to justify your comments..."
I held both hands up. "Hold on there, partner!"
He gave me a shocked look. "What?"
I lowered my hands. "They're only abstract because no one understands them yet. And because I'm the one who founded them, discovered them, and have implemented them."
He cleared his throat and gave his committee a sweeping glance, looking for support. Their faces were set in stone. No one was giving anything away for free this night. Finally, the cleared his throat again, took a sip of a bottle of Perrier, then set it down.
"I'm not trying to insult you, Mister K, just clarify things."
"I think it's pretty clear what you're trying to do, sir." I replied.
"And what is that exactly?" He asked, a sly look on his lips.
"Ask Senator Murphy. I'm sure he can explain everything."
He jumped from his chair, his face red as a beet. "Are you saying I'm on the take?"
I leaned closer, my face stern as a killer ape. "You sir, are saying it. Not I!"
He looked around and no one would look him in the eyes. He sat back down.
"I resent your intimation."
"And you sir, I resent being the Director of a function to which you have no qualifications."
"I was elected..."
"No sir, you were appointed. No one in their right mind would have elected you."
He jumped up again.
I gave him a stone cold smile. "Really. You really want to go that route?"
He stood there, steaming in his shoes so much I could actually see smoke shimmering about him. I must be getting pretty good at pissing people off.
"I do and I have. This meeting is over."
He headed for the open doors to the room. It slammed shut. He jumped back, and then went forward again. He grabbed the knob and yanked. The door remained firm.
I looked to the others in the room. "No need for you to be bothered by our little discussion."
I sidestepped them into the next fractal world, then back outside the school building, where I had planted Patti so she could calm them down and get them on their cutesy little ways.
When they vanished the Director's face became filled with fear.
"As I was saying." I corrected him. "Do you really want to go that way?"
"I..." He stuttered.
I thumped his chest with my right forefinger. It made a hollow sound. I thumped it again just for the fun of it. Before he got the wrong idea, I stepped back. "I'm giving you two choices, sir. One is to leave this building, resign and never come back to this neck of the woods again."
He stood there, anger again beginning to color his face. "And the second choice?"
I sidestepped with him into one of the more chaotic fractal universes I had found. It was infested with spring spirals that would coil around one's body and then explode into hundreds more, making you itch like crazy. I had known in advance I would be facing it, and so had put on a fractal ointment to repel the friendly little buggers.
He screamed as they wrapped around him, exploding and itching like crazy. His eyes went as large as saucers and he turned to me and gripped my arms. "What have you done?"
"Et Tu, Brutus?" I reminded him.
He backed off.
I sidestepped him back into the meeting room.
He slumped back down into his chair and looked up at me. A couple buggers still clung to his right arm. They were poised to explode, watching for a signal from me. He knew it, even if he didn't understand it.
"Well?" I asked. "What now?"
Senator Murphy sat in the dark room he had rented for the special occasion of humiliating Chesterton K. A knock. "Enter."
The Director entered. He sat down opposite the Senator.
"Well, is it done?"
"Yes." The Director said, and then raised his right arm.
Senator Murphy screamed as the two buggers left on the Director's arm exploded and wrapped all around him. It was going to be a long, long night for him before he got back to normal again.
Audio Book. The Moon Pool by Abraham Merritt. Chapter 31: Larry and the Frog Men. Golden Master of Fantasy!
Flying Saucers. George Knapp. Area 51. Flying Saucers and Bob Lazar, man who reverse engineered them. Copenhagen 2014.
Check out the Audio Blog for an interview with Bob Lazar by Art Bell, a noted radio interviewer who specializes in the unknown.
Exaltation. A Levels Story. Science Fiction. By John Pirillo. "Heck with a Stargate! I'll take the whole pyramid, thank you!"