New Dan Brown Book - first 6 Chapters

Chapter 1

The Sun had begun to dip low in the sky as the large cargo transport aircraft began its approach on the southern tip of Ross Island near the shore of McMurdo sound in Antarctica. It's operated by the United States through the United States Antarctic program, a branch of the National Science Foundation. The station is the largest community in Antarctica, capable of supporting over a thousand residents. All personnel and cargo going or coming from The South Pole Station first passed through McMurdo.

McMurdo station was named after Lieutenant Archibald McMurdo of HMS terror which first charted the area 1841 under the command of British explorer James Clark Ross. British explorer Robert Falcon Scott first established a base close to the spot in 1902 and built discovery hut which is still standing adjacent to the harbor at Hut Point. The volcanic rock surrounding McMurdo Station is the southernmost bare ground accessible by ship in the Antarctic. In the 1950s McMurdo became a hot spot for science in Antarctica. The station became more modernized over time and now, in the 21st century, it stands as a technological wonder in one of the most remote places on the planet.

Mark Lecter was once again questioning the logic of his decision to leave his comfortable place of tenure at the University that had been the focus of his entire adult life. Mark's fascination with archaeology began at a very early age. His uncle, Reginald, his mother's brother, had taken him to Mesa Verde when he was still in elementary school. He had explained to mark how scientists couldn't explain what had happened to this seemingly advanced, civilized society as all the data indicated the city was abandoned with what appeared to be panicked haste. As the old pickup truck rolled to a stop his uncle looked over at him and in a very serious voice said, "Today I am going to show you something I don't show very many people. This place is very special. Many of my friends who study ancient ruins have recently come up with some amazing findings that I'll explain and show you. But you have to promise me something. You have to treat this place with much respect. Do you know what that means, Mark?”

Mark did know what this word meant. Even at that young age Mark realized that showing respect for his elders often brought with it the reward of fascinating stories. Stories which Mark held with him to this very day. "Yes I do", said Mark.

As they walked along the base of the Mesa, Reginald suddenly stopped short. Lifting his hand as if to say quiet, he motioned Mark to stop. As the sun shone through the various openings casting shadows along the cliff backdrop it became clear, for a moment at least, that there was a very definite symbol outlined in shadow on the back of the Mesa.

Mark Lecter had been pursuing the meaning of that symbol ever since.

The large cargo plane made noises that made Mark uncomfortable. It creaked and seemed to moan in protest as its wheels touched down on the ice. The runway had looked incredibly long from the air, but from this vantage point seemed unimaginably short. How on earth could a plane of this size possibly stop on a runway this small? Mark's uneasiness gave way, as it often did, to logic. There were several individuals accompanying him on this trip, each strapped in to their respective seat and not looking particularly concerned. The plane was full of a variety of things, nothing grows or is manufactured at McMurdo, or anywhere on Antarctica, for obvious reasons. Everything has to be flown or shipped in. Over the past few decades flying in cargo and people had become the preferred choice as the seas of the Southern Ocean were unpredictable and treacherous. This flight was full of the usual fare; everything from letters and parcels addressed the station’s hundreds of inhabitants to some of the most advanced scientific equipment available on the planet. Some of this equipment Mark knew very well. He had assisted in its development from the crude drawings in the lab to the very advanced computer models that had put to the test some of the fastest computers available anywhere. This equipment was special. It was special, not only because it was so very expensive, and had taken so many years to develop, but because if it was successful it stood a very good chance of turning some conventional paradigms on their heads.

Mark had no idea what the other members of the expedition were there for or what had brought them to this isolated bottom of the globe, but he couldn't help hazarding a few guesses based on their appearance, their demeanor, and the way in which they spoke. All but one were virtual Strangers to him, and he had tried his best to avoid direct eye contact with her, thus far, for a reason he could not explain.

Mark had begun college, having been an average high school student, hoping to earn a degree in accounting and get a stable job with a large corporation. During Mark’s sophomore year, on a whim, he had signed up for archaeology class. Prompted by his fond memories with his uncle Reginald and still haunted by the symbol he'd seen at Mesa Verde those many years ago he enrolled and sat down the first day not knowing what to expect. His professor, and old Englishman who spent most of his life in sub-Saharan Africa looking for what other students joked about as "Dr. Livingstone's lost gold" (or maybe it was lost city, Mark hadn't paid much attention) instantly grabbed his attention by explaining to the class in a very animated fashion that they had been brain washed! Yes, brain washed.

Some of the students, who considered themselves too good for everyone else, at lease that was Mark's opinion of most of them, shifted uncomfortably in their seats. But it was what Professor Thompson said next that made Mark rapt with attention. "There are symbols all around us. We use them every day in our daily lives, we see them everywhere. They are on our currency, our walls, the signs on our streets, and many of your favorite musical groups have incorporated them into their logos for decades. Yet most of you have no idea the true meaning of these symbols that every day stare you in the face. After September 11, I heard some students actually ask what the Arabs had ever done for us. I of course asked them if they would prefer using Roman numerals when they balance their checkbooks. And what about your own names? Do you know the origins of the letters that make up the name that you write so many times a day? What if I were to tell you all these symbols that you see, that you use, that you take for granted on a moment by moment basis actually meant something very different than that which are commonly associate with them. What if I were to tell you that these were part of an ancient language, an ancient way of writing, that is only now beginning to be understood?"

Professor Thompson stood silent, stoic and with the dignity one would expect from a professor whose academic credentials were unrivaled in his field. Mark couldn't remember if any of the other students had made any comments. All Mark could think about at that moment was the sign his uncle had shown him in New Mexico and that he couldn't wait to speak with Professor Thompson privately and ask if he had ever seen before.

It was sometime in July 2010 late in the afternoon when Mark had been going through old computer files trying to organize his massive collection of data that sometimes seemed like an insurmountable tangle of cryptic notes and half finished thoughts. There was a knock at his office door and in came the Dean of his department, Dr. Simmons, who began making introductions for the impeccably dressed gentleman who came in the room after. This man, Dr. Simmons explained, was John Astor. Mark raised an eyebrow as if to say, "the Astors?”.

Dr. Simmons quickly followed with, "he's not a member of the Astor family you have heard of, Mark, but he's a very important supporter of some of the science we do here at the University."

It was explained to Mark at the University had been contacted about an upcoming project in Antarctica to explore potential mineral resource deposits under the ice. Because of the potential value of these resources, there were a lot of people who were willing to put up a lot of money to have this research done.

"So what you want with me?", said Mark. He had developed a genuine distaste for the wealthy over the years. He'd seen people buy and sell artifacts who had no idea what they were dealing with, nor the value, historical value, they were jeopardizing by satisfying their selfish desire to display, to show-off, the artifact as a showpiece in their collection. "I'm an archaeologist and not a geologist, as you well know, and unless I'm unaware of something there aren't any archaeological digs going on in Antarctica."

Both Dr. Simmons and John Astor looked sternly at Mark as if to capture his attention, to make sure he was ready for what they were about to say, "We have found... perhaps, the remains of an ancient civilization buried beneath the ice about 200 miles south of McMurdo Station on Ross Island. We understand that you have been working on technology that will allow you to see, in detail, what lies beneath the… ground.”

“Yeah”, said Mark his mind reeling from what he'd just been told. How could there have been an ancient civilization on Antarctica? That continent has been under ice for…

“Mark", said Dr. Simmons," we're going to need to get your security credentials updated and upgraded."

The plane was bouncing wildly on the ice. Mark was desperately trying to hide the fear that was beginning to creep over him. It was unsettling feeling, being so far away from any other type of human civilization, the vastness was unnerving. Slowly the plane speed began to decrease until within moments, although it seemed like much longer, it unremarkably lurched to a stop. The other passengers unclasped their harnesses and began milling about the cabin gathering their personal effects. Mark shook his head, gathered his senses, and began doing the same. As the large door opened near the rear of the plane the light bounded in like an overexcited, uninvited guest at a very solemn party. As Martin made his way down the loading ramp onto the snow he had the distinct feeling that, in this place, he'd better be on his toes.




Chapter 2

Antarctica is a desolate place to say the least. Although it gets very little precipitation, the Southern Ocean’s swirling currents create cyclonic winds that ravage the continent with storms that can last days, even weeks. During these times whiteout conditions exist to such an extent that any individual unlucky enough to get lost out in the elements doesn't stand much of a chance. So whenever new inhabitants arrive at McMurdo Station, they're given a crash course in Antarctic survival.

Mark’s group was no exception. The nine were led outside the barracks within an hour of being there onto the snow and given large white buckets. They were instructed to place these buckets over their heads, stay together in a group, and try to find their way back to the instructor. The buckets simulated the whiteout conditions they might experience during a severe Antarctic storm. The group clasped hands and began discussing from which direction they had come. No one seemed to know each other very well, but each was aware that these would be the individuals with whom they would be spending the next several weeks of their lives.

As they wandered around the ice, one of the members noticed they were crossing a set of footprints. As the idea was put forth that perhaps they were walking in a circle, the man who had assumed a leadership role, a Russian named Ivan, began to lose patience. After a couple of hours of fumbling around on the ice the group came close enough to the instructor to hear his voice and find their way to him.

“You cannot underestimate the importance of this exercise," the instructor said. His name was Paul and his face was weathered and dark. His skin, like old leather, seemed to scoff at the elements. He had been at McMurdo for seven years and the first year his wife, Eileen, had gotten lost during a particularly bad storm walking between the commissary and her barracks. The storm had lasted several days and when they were able to go out and look for her she was found chest deep in a snow drift with tears froze onto her face. Paul had been tormented with the idea that her last thoughts had been of horror, or even worse, desperate, hopeless, sadness.

That spring season, Paul had signed up for the new arrival training program. The next year he'd been named chief instructor. He had been taking his job very seriously ever since.

“Storms in Antarctica can literally develop within minutes. You can go from sunshine and shorts to the whiteout conditions that will freeze you to death before you even realize you're dyin. You can never, not for one minute, take this place for granted. You can never, not for one minute, forget where you are."

That night, and the commissary, a large cafeteria that is the central hub of society at McMurdo Station, the nine members of the expedition sat around eating their food and each telling a little bit about themselves. Mark sat quietly chewing his roast chicken and building mound, a volcano he liked to imagine, out of his mashed potatoes as he didn't feel much like eating. Ever since the plane had touched down, he had felt an overwhelming sense of uneasiness. Apprehension was something unfamiliar to mark. Mark started college a very unremarkable student and had since proven himself to be both intelligent and creative in ways many others could only dream of. He lived near campus in the same apartment he lived in as a student. He still had the same furniture, the same simple accoutrements that he brought with him from home when he started school in the early 90s. Material possessions, at least those which most people found attractive, held little interest to Mark. What interested Mark was piecing together a puzzle. A puzzle that he believed would show mankind, in a simple, no-way-you-could-question-it terms - the way to a better world. Mark devoted his entire life to studying ancient cultures that it existed on Earth thousands of years before the present age. He traveled the globe and had been part of some of the most significant archaeological finds in history. But the spark, the spring, from which all his energy flowed, was rooted in that symbol he had seen on the cliffs of the Mesa with his uncle Reginald.

Ivan, a Russian scientist who'd spent a lot of time on Antarctica at the Russian station Vostok - an outpost if there ever was one – It is located near the South Geomagnetic Pole, at the center of the East Antarctic ice sheet, where the flux in the earth's electromagnetic field is manifested. The Russians had started Vostok in the 50s and had began drilling down into the ice. The Russians are expert drillers. In fact, at one point, the Russians had tried to drill into the Earth's mantle, not on the South Pole, but in Russia. They drilled a long way, several miles deep, but technical problems halted the project and it was not restarted. At Vostok, the Russians had discovered that underneath the ice is a very large chasm. Underneath the ice, in this chasm, was a very large body of fresh, liquid water. The scientific possibilities alone were intense motivation for the Russians to expedite the drilling with little regard to potential contamination of a sealed-off body of water that had remained untouched by the earths atmosphere for at least 400,000 years. The Russians were using jet fuel as anti-freeze to keep the borehole from freezing up. Some scientists began complaining that the antifreeze was going to leak into this Lake Vostok and contaminate any potential scientific findings. Drilling was stopped and restarted but finally halted permanently in 2003 just over 100 m away from breaking through. Ivan then explained the difficulties in living in such an extreme environment. The ionization, alone, in the air was enough to make you sick and the lack of oxygen took its toll on many of the station's inhabitants. He then explained that his role in the expedition was to guide them to the station that had been set up by the advance teams.

The next to speak was a young woman named Alice, an Australian climatologist and meteorologist whose specialty was weather patterns in the Southern Ocean. Alice explained that she had brought along a lot of very high-tech equipment and that her job was to keep an eye on the weather. She said she loved rugby, beer, and chess and was a pro surfer in her youth.

Third was an elderly Asian gentleman, Lee, who had never been to Antarctica before. He explained he was from North Korea. He had been given special permission by the government to come on this expedition, but he wasn't sure why. His English was passable, but he spoke within an uneasiness that often accompanies learning a new language. Lee had studied at the University in Pyongyang and had learned English because he'd been assigned to studying the field of nuclear physics. He explained that most books on nuclear reactors, fusion, fission, etc. were written in English. He had begun his studies during the time of the great leader and had been promoted to a very high position during the time of the dear leader. Although he looked like the eldest member of the group, he certainly did not present himself as any liability to the expedition. He was fit, muscular, and seemed to have a calming presence on some of the others in the group. He explained that his specialty was nuclear power sources self-contained in very compact form. He then pulled out a cylindrical object was about the size of a tennis ball can. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is nuclear reactor. This... device can produce the same amount of electricity as a small power plant. My job is to make sure all objects you have brought have power."

The fourth to speak, a young American who looked very much like you must've needed a parent's permission slip to come on this expedition, hid behind thick glasses and a pulled down baseball cap with the words "Dee’s nuts" embroidered on the front. He self-consciously tried to make eye contact with each of the respective other members as he began to speak but it was obvious he was very uncomfortable speaking in front of people. "My name is Ian and I am from California and I work on computers. I designed some of the data collection modules many of you'll be using and the satellite uplinks the will relay that data back to our friends in Belgium. I spent most of my life in dark rooms surrounded by monitors and I sometimes have a difficult time interacting with people. Please forgive me, in advance, if I seem standoffish at times. I'm trying this as a new adventure. I'm trying this because... My girlfriend back home says I need to prove to her that I can be my own man. Or something like that."

A bit of an awkward silence followed, eyes glancing back and forth around the table, each member not wanting to be the first one to speak next. But fortunately for Ian the woman into his right knew just what to do.

“My name is Suzanne," she said, her thick southern accent dripping off her lips like molasses, "I work for an oil company. And to put it to you folks plain and simple, I'm here to see if there is any oil underneath this ice. My company, CQ, has invested a lot of money in this expedition and we'd like to see if we can't recoup some of that money. I like the Dallas Cowboys, whiskey, and I love George Bush so if any you don't like him the best keep your opinions to yourself on this trip." She blinked at the end, to lighten the mood, but the tone of her voice made it clear to everyone at the table that she wanted to establish her dominance, her place of authority, immediately.

There was a bit of nervous shuffling as the sixth member of the party pushed his chair back and stood. His thick Spanish accent sounded sophisticated and well rehearsed. His clothes, his hair, his various jewelry, were obvious signs he wanted to be recognized as a man of wealth and taste. "My name is Carlos. I have studied the Incan ruins of Machu Picchu, the Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza, and the Aztec ruins near Mexico City and am considered an expert in the field of Mesoamerican culture. I'm 45 years old, I now run my own company, which gives special tours to explorers with unique tastes. I was asked to join this expedition because of the myths, the things I uncovered in 1997 while studying some ruins in Guatemala. I will tell you all about this later, but suffice it to say, we found a very interesting pyramid that contained a secret passage. I say secret because it was only with the help of some of the technology Dr. Lecter was able to provide that we were able to see the passage behind a 10 foot block of solid stone. What we found underneath that pyramid was the ruins of a civilization far more advanced than anything that had ever been found in North or South America before."

To the right of Carlos sat a woman Martin very well. Ingrid Garcia had been Mark’s first love. They met wile both doing their doctoral work at Oxford. Her father was from Spain and her mother was French and she had inherited the best traits of both nationalities. They both came to England not knowing what to expect and had been, at times, very lost in British culture. That was what had brought them together in the first place. Two awkward strangers at a pub after a football match where the home team had been humiliated in defeat and some of the visiting team's fans had been foolish enough to wander into a local pub, cheering wildly, and it went downhill from there. Mark and Ingrid, alone in the back of the bar, neither a fan of the sport, began talking as they plotted their escape from the brawl was ensuing in the crowd. After they had managed to sneak out the back exit, Mark asked Ingrid if she would like to join him for a drink somewhere a little less dangerous. There was a lot of history between Ingrid and Mark. Mark couldn't help wonder if she, like him, maybe even just a little bit, had come on that trip with the naïve hope that, perhaps, something might be rekindled.

Ingrid Garcia studied theology. She is studied at the Vatican and was given access to the archives there on a scale that made most of her peers very envious. Ingrid studied a particular vein of Catholicism. Hundreds of years ago, in Rome, a secret society was born to protect, what they believed to be, some sacred texts. The Catholic Church at the time did not approve of these texts and did not consider them biblical canon. In the years that followed the conflict was settled and this group became, almost, a parallel branch of Catholicism. Hidden away, in Vatican City, and in Rome, in such a non-discreet fashion that very few paid it any heed. "My name is Ingrid, I am right now living in Rome, but I grew up in France. My father is a Spaniard who asks me every year to come run with the bulls. So far, I have yet to acquiesce. I am here because I study a small religious sect, it is considered an offshoot of Catholicism, that tells of an ancient civilization on our planet that existed before the earth… turned.”

Everyone's attention immediately became piqued at the way Ingram said the word ‘turned’. “The legend says that long ago, before the great flood, the axis of the earth pointed in a different direction. My studies have given way to a hypothesis that the continent of Antarctica was once near the equator. I have studied rare, ancient texts for the last 10 years and have come to the conclusion, again I hypothesize, that there did in fact exist, tens of thousands of years ago, an ancient civilization on this very continent."

Mark was beginning to feel misled. He wasn't told a lot about the expedition other than what his part would be. He was here to employ technology that only he could operate. To try to look beneath the ice and see what was down there. Mark had assumed a company looking for some rare earth mineral, or gold, or diamonds had hatched a scheme to somehow obtain mining rights if large enough deposits were found. Mark learned a long time ago that if there was enough money involved, there was usually somebody who thought they could find a way to do the impossible.

The man sitting between Mark and Ingrid was a very large Norwegian named Bjorn. Bjorn was a man of few words and indeed Mark had not heard him say a word since they arrived. Even during the bucket exercise, Mark noticed his size but could not recall him saying anything. "I am Bjorn. I am originally from Sweden. I spent much of my life exploring the Arctic and living amongst the native peoples there. I was hired to accompany you scientists, and folks," looking at Suzanne, "So that you can get to your station and return you safely here to McMurdo before the winter comes. My dogs were brought here one month ago. I have three teams of dogs that will be with us. I hope you are all dog people. I hope we don't have any cat people here." With that Bjorn gave a strained laugh and looked to his right at Mark.

Mark looked up from his plate of hardly touched dinner, looking around the room trying to make eye contact with each member of the party. It was something he learned in Egypt several years ago on a particularly difficult dig. He had been asking the workers to work an extra week even though the payment had been delayed, robbed, at gunpoint, or so the driver said, during delivery the week before. Mark had wired immediately for more funds but everything takes a long time in Egypt. Mark took the time to speak with, and look in the eye, each man on the dig assuring them that he would personally see to it that they were compensated, in full, for the backbreaking labor they had provided. It took Mark calling in every favor he'd ever accumulated to fulfill that promise, but ever since then had tried to look people in the eye when he really meant it.

“My name is Dr. Mark Lecter, an archaeologist. My specialty is, I guess you would say, looking before we dig. I started working with ground penetrating radar back in the 90s and have since developed a new type of technology that can see in very great detail what's underneath us, even if it's beneath stone, ice, water, whatever... I think I can get us a good look at it. I've been a lot of places, but I've never been to Antarctica and, to be honest, this place is pretty overwhelming." Mark again took a moment to look around the table and then said, trying to muster some humor, "does anybody know if the pool still open?”

Chapter 3

As the evening wore on the team members became more relaxed in a conversation. Each took turns regaling the others with their well rehearsed cocktail party stories. The kind everyone tells, with subtle variations depending on the audience, as the wine flowed. Mark could not help but notice Ivanand Bjorn, the two apparent alpha males in the group, passively-aggressively battling for dominance. Ivan interrupted other team members on several occasions, his loud thickly Russian-accented voice booming across the table, to convey his opinion on the topic at hand.

“The magnetic field that surrounds the South Pole does very interesting things to your body," he said suddenly finding a moment of sobriety between his shots of vodka, "compasses are no good down here. GPS is sometimes at best, always unreliable. Don't trust those little machines! They will kill you. They will leave you screaming for your mothers. I was once lost near the South Pole and wandered for days subsiding on vodka and some tin Fish from my Village back home. When they found me I was delirious for three weeks, but when they nursed me back to health I said, immediately, that I must go back to the ice. I do not recall this time, it is foggy in my memory, but dear friends have told me is that… this… so I believe them."

When Bjorn would recant stories of traversing the Arctic wilds, his only guidance being the stars, the sun, and the good sense of his dogs, Ivan would groan under his breath. Just enough for others to hear, but not enough to be overtly rude.

The commissary staff had finished tearing down for the night and had asked that everyone head back to the barracks to retire for the evening. Mark tried to time his exit to correspond with that of Ingrid’s. He felt boyish anticipation as he tried to nonchalantly delay his getting up from the table until she had also done so. But during one of his periods of glancing around, looking for something to focus his attention on that would not be obvious (that he's trying to focus his attention on it), he was slightly surprised to notice, tucked in the pocket of Lee’s Blazer, the nuclear scientist from North Korea, a Christian Bible. It was not in Korean, a least the cover was not, and Mark found it odd that Lee would carry such a thing with him. As a North Korean, being caught with contraband can bring instant, brutal justice.

As Ingrid got up to leave, Mark caught the faintest whiff of the Giorgio perfume that he always joked with her as being her ‘signature scent’. The severe difference in temperature, as they pass through the small vestibule into the outside world, shocked all of them in different ways. Suzanne swore, Alice began to explain Antarctic weather patterns, and Ian said something about why did he ever leave California? Mark adjusted his pace so that he was walking in stride with Ingrid. Fumbling around in his mind for something to start the conversation with, he eventually landed on something that would interest her, at least he thought.

“It must be exciting for you to be down here, studying all this firsthand. I've read some your papers recently and I think many of your hypotheses are based in sound logic.”

“Oh yeah?”, volleyed Ingrid, "which ones?"

“I think that some of your mathematical models describing the real possibilities, the consequences, of building too big, are fascinating.” Mark was glad he actually read a few of her papers, “The three rivers dam in China, for instance, some say it's altering the rotation of the earth. Not to mention destroying thousands of acreage of prime archaeological sites.”

This humor seemed to break the ice a bit, “You know Mark when they asked me about you. Well, I told them you were a great archaeologist, but that they really needed to find an anthropologist for this job.”

Ingrid stopped, turned, and faced Mark. He had not looked into her eyes, at least not this at this close range, in many years and his head began to swirl with memories, questions, and what-ifs.

“Why bring an anthropologist down to an uninhabited continent," asked Mark genuinely surprised," I understand we’re hoping to find some remains, but surely you can't be insinuating that we might actually find people down here?”

Ingrid smiled, brushed back her hair in the wind, and said in a warm, confident voice, “Mark if we find half the things I think we will down here. If even half the legends are true, we're going to make history. History! Mark, it’s what we always dreamed of. I'll tell you everything on the way down - sounds like we are in for a long trip, but let me put it this way: we're in for big surprises. The world is in for a big surprise. Have you seen the scout team's reports?"

Mark had seen some of the scout teams’ reports. Different scout teams, in different shifts, had been coming down to this spot, the spot to which they were headed, for about five years. In the 1980s, as satellites began to traverse the South Pole and collect data, a magnetic anomaly was discovered. The magnetic anomaly was consistent with that of very large mineral deposits. Heavy minerals. Things like lead, gold, and also plutonium and uranium. No one knew exactly what was down there, but a lot of very large companies were betting it would be well worth the look.

Last season, apparently, there'd been some sort of equipment malfunction. A partial evacuation of the facility had taken place and there had been some medical issues with some of the team, but the report stated that they were suffering from exposure and hypothermia as they had to travel back in a very intense snowstorm. Mark found it curious, the geologist of the group, Suzanne a corporate geologist whose degree in science was probably put on a wall in her office and dusted off by a maid once or twice a month but otherwise never looked at. Was the only suit on the team.

Mark Lecter disliked scientists who'd turned corporate. He had an inherent distrust for them. Mark had seen many of his colleagues, students, even mentors sellout to the world of the multinational corporations. Some joked that Mark was a purist, an idealist, with his head in the clouds and his modest shoes planted firmly in the dirt.

The dirt in which he dug.

Indeed Mark Lecter had been called many things for his beliefs. He'd been called a socialist, communist, and most recently, because he lives in America, a liberal. Nevertheless Mark held true to his beliefs as he had since childhood. Clinging to a utopian dream that one day man would somehow figure out how to... All just get along.

“I saw the reports. Looks to me like they hired the lowest bidder for the job and got what they paid for. My hope is to go down there, hook up my machines, gather some data, send it back to Belgium, and then hightail it back to civilization."

“Well, Mark, you may want to call that old dear-of-a-Dean Simmons and ask for a sabbatical. Five years ago, when they got serious about coming down here, they sent the scout team to survey the area. They set up a small camp, ran some tests, and headed back. They left some equipment tagged with a GPS and covered in mylar tarp. When they came back the next year, next season, they went to those coordinates and the gear was gone. And that's not uncommon in Antarctica, GPS is squirrelly down here, but when they got there that second season they had to improvise as the equipment they planned on being there wasn't. They began to dig in the ice. They carved out a pretty nice cave, from what I understand, and each year they've expended that cave.”

This, also, was in the report, but it didn’t describe much more than modest accommodations in miserable surroundings.

“How many people are there now?” Marks said. He was freezing, but would be damned if he wasn’t going to stretch this conversation with Ingrid out as long as he possibly could.

“Well, that's the thing.” Ingrid's voice dropped to a whisper, "that kind of lost contact with them.” She turned her head up, looking Mark straight in the eye, she could have said anything right than and he wouldn't have heard her, “but everyone is pretty sure that it's just a temporary technical glitch. I really dislike computers, you know?”

“Yes,” Mark said, remembering Ingrid's desk covered with stacks of paper and conspicuously no digital media whatsoever," but I hope they get it fixed before we get there. I'm going to feel cut off from the rest of the world if I can't check my e-mail.”

Chapter 4

As the team arrived in the barracks, each member retired to their respective quarters. Mark entered his spartan room and glanced at the old leather backpack on the bed. That backpack had accompanied Mark on many great adventures. It had traversed the world with him, over the years, seeking the answers with him. A silent companion that was never cold, never hungry, and never complained.

Over the years, Mark had become an expert at packing lightly. Lecter had learned that there were things necessary for any expedition, and things that would just weigh you down. A few changes of socks and underwear, some personal hygiene items, an old leather bound notebook and, hidden non-discreetly in a small wooden box lined with felt, his most prized possession.

Mark's uncle Reginald, those many years ago in New Mexico, at Mesa Verde, as they stood in the shadow of the grandeur, had leaned down, picked up a small stone from the ground and handed it to Mark. Mark had opened his hand and realized he was holding a small arrowhead. Chiseled by some craftsmen hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago and then left in the dirt. Mark's uncle had told him, "Never, ever remove artifacts from archaeological sites, Mark. They are not ours to take.”

“Now this arrowhead, is an exception to that rule, Mark. This particular item is not from here. This particular item is one that was given to me when I was a boy. While you weren't looking I tossed it, just now, onto the ground and pretended I found it. I wanted to prove a very important point in doing this: always, always look where you're walking. You never know what you’re gonna find!"

Mark removed the very professional looking binder from his backpack. This was the information given to him before the expedition by John Astor and Dr. Simmons. He'd read through it, but if he was being honest he would have to admit that, at times, he allowed his mind to wander while perusing its pages.

This night, Mark dove into the material with a passion he did not felt in quite some time. The thrill of learning something new had always invigorated Mark, had always made him feel young and alive. For many scientists, the prospect of discovering something new is the equivalent to an entrepreneur inventing the next must-have thing. Within the scientific community, Mark was well known, but he always kept an intentionally low profile. Feeling his talents were best used outside the glare of the public spotlight.

The material contained various data sets and most of it made little sense to Mark. He instead turned his attention to the few pages, near the end of the binder, that described the station to which they would be traveling.

In November of 2005, an advance team of scientists, engineers, and explorers familiar with the area set out south approximately 200 miles from McMurdo Station. They were going to check out an anomaly that had been picked up by satellites circling overhead. When they arrived at the area many of the pieces of electronics that they had brought with them seemed to not work as they normally would. Communication was spotty, at best, and a debate amongst the team erupted over whether they should stay and complete their mission or begin heading back immediately.

The leader of the expedition, Dr. Jason Harper, a geologist from the Yale, had insisted they stay. Their assignment would not take long, as all they were sent there to do was place a small patchwork of various data collecting devices and return. After reminding the team members of their fiduciary compensation and, by contrast, the penalty that would be incurred for leaving the job unfinished the team hurriedly set up the equipment and three days later were heading north back to McMurdo Station.

Over the next Antarctic winter, data was received, but so sporadically that it was of little use to those who had funded the expedition. So in the fall of 2006 a larger expedition, with much more equipment had been sent down to the same location. When they arrived at the sites, confirmed by global positioning satellites, they were confused in finding not much remaining of the gear and makeshift shelter that had been left by Dr. Harper's party. Because it is not uncommon for global positioning systems to give innaccurate readings in Antarctica the quandary was tabled and instead an alternate plan was put into place.

This larger crew had come equipped with equipment that would allow them to drill into the ice. Drilling into ice is a dangerous venture, even for those who are very skilled. Most people think of ice as a solid, unmoving, unchanging mass, but ice is actually very alive. Additionally, high pressures underneath large bodies of ice can create conditions dangerous to most machinery. So the decision was made to drill down no more than 100 feet and then turned 90° and begin hollowing out an underground cavern.

The initial work proceeded very quickly and those that were involved in the project, both on site and back in the civilized world, were very pleased with the results. The team had brought with them a fleet of snow-cat crawlers packed with an abundance of equipment, provisions, and fuel. They had also brought with them a new piece of technology that it been developed specifically for projects such as these.

Around the world governments and corporations, every advanced society, is seeking ways to more efficiently provide power to their populations. It's common knowledge within the scientific community that the Earth's carbon-based fuel sources are in finite supply. Many speculate that most of the low hanging fruit has already been taken and that if something is not done, on a global scale, soon the laws of supply and demand will make these resources almost inaccessible to many of the world's poorer countries.

Nuclear power is amazing technology. Its potential benefit to mankind is significant, but when mismanaged, as the world has seen, can become an unstoppable monster. Mark had been to Chernobyl, in the former Soviet Union, and it seemed the remains of that disaster from only a few miles away. He spoke with some of the locals, some of whom had been around at the time of the disaster. A couple of the townspeople had claimed to have seen a circular craft, in the air, above the power plant the day of the disaster. One old man, who sat in a rickety wheelchair smoking one cigarette after another, said it was an American spy plane sent to sabotage Chernobyl. Another gentleman had told Mark that the craft appeared immediately after the sirens went off, and that he and many others believed that it was extraterrestrial interference to assist with containing a potential catastrophe. Mark was always skeptical stories like this. In his travels he'd seen many petroglyphs and other ancient forms of art depicting what some consider to be spacemen or spacecraft. Mark was saddened by some of these stories as they effectively replaced what was actually being depicted in the ancient artwork. Mark had a hard time believing in aliens and typically considered those who did a bit too eccentric for his taste.

But Mark Lecter understood the benefits/risks debate over nuclear energy well.

This technology has advanced, as is prevalent in every aspect of our society, just like many of our other devices. Things have become smaller and smaller. The Russians had been working on small nuclear devices that could be contained in a standard suitcase. Many of these devices were developed to power remote weather stations, out in the Siberian tundra, where once placed needed to function for years without maintenance. These devices were built so well that even today terrorists around the globe seek them out as infamous dirty bombs.

To power the vast array of equipment that was to be placed at the station, a small nuclear power plant, self-contained and able to run itself indefinitely without human assistance, had been placed in the cavern and turned on to the cheers of all the members of the second-team. Steel reinforcements, thick insulating material, and a network of wires and machines now filled this cavern in the ice. No one stayed behind this time, but that was to change next season. Because the basic shelter, a permanent abode able to withstand the extreme Antarctic weather was now basically in place, the third team was able to bring enough provisions to last them through an Antarctic winter.

Scientists and support staff had been selected after a careful vetting process to eliminate those with combative personality, claustrophobia, or other potentially disruptive attributes. When the team arrived at the beginning of the third season, they were somewhat relieved to find the previous teams worked untouched with everything in its proper place. This further confirmed the belief of many that they had simply lost the signal of the GPS homing beacon that had been left with the equipment from the first party. This was composed of almost 50 individuals, 12 of whom remained at the station through winter. There were periods of communication interruption, equipment malfunction, and some of the other things you might naturally associate with an endeavor of this magnitude. There were frayed nerves and one of the support staff had to be confined to his quarters because the other 11 feared he'd gone mad, but all-in-all the success of this station was being noticed. Strange fluctuations in the magnetic field, strange noises being picked up on frequencies unused in the Antarctic, and what felt like a great earthquake to those in the station, beneath the ice, were recorded, processed and sent back to universities and scientists all around the world.

The fourth team had arrived one year before Mark and his companions began their journey south over the unending sheet of white that disappeared into the light blue sky. This time a group of 62 individuals subdivided into seven groups made their way to the station without incident. Mark breathed a sigh of relief reading that. He wasn't afraid of the trip across the ice, but the magnitude of the isolation was beginning to set in. The fourth team arrived at the station with supplies, more equipment, and letters from the loved ones and friends of the 12 who had remained the previous season. They also brought with them a much more powerful nuclear power generator. Housed in a large bright orange container Mark “V.W.Z.” it contained the most advanced, technologically sophisticated nuclear device ever created by human beings.

At its core it contained uranium that had been enriched to such an extent that every page talking about it was marked “TOP SECRET – PRIVILEGED INFORMATION ”. The scientists who had developed the super-enriched uranium new that, in the wrong hands, this would be the ultimate weapon of destruction. Mark made a mental note to ask Lee, tomorrow morning, more about this technology. Was that little tennis-ball-can-sized object he pulled out of his pocket really a nuclear power device? Amazing.

At the end of the fourth season the original 12 returned to McMurdo Station with 50 members of that year's party and twelve new individuals settled in for their stay that winter surrounded by, especially by Antarctic Standards, very comfortable accommodations. In the middle of one of the worst storms ever seen in the southern hemisphere, communications were lost to the facility for about a week. When communications were reestablished the next week, a frantic cry for help came across the airwaves. Something had gone wrong, the individual said (who is identified as Michael Robinson, a geologist from Stanford) and some of the team had to be evacuated during the storm.

Mark read most of this before and he realized that if he didn't get to sleep soon, tomorrow was going to be even more difficult than what he knew already knew it would be. As Mark drifted off to sleep that night he tried to think about his part in this expedition, but Mark knew his equipment very well and knew that, in a very real sense, he would just be flipping some switches and compiling some data. He would then return to civilization where you explain his findings in the comfort of an appropriate setting. It was thoughts of Ingrid that filled his mind as he drifted off to sleep at night. Her perfume, her hair, and her confident voice. He hadn't realized, until today, how much he missed her company. And if things had just turned out a little differently, if there hadn't been so many interruptions, maybe they could have had a life together.

Maybe, but then Mark's oldest friend, the one he turned to when nothing else made sense, kicked in and his trusted friend logic lulled him to sleep by occupying his mind with the puzzle pieces Mark had been trying to fit together all of his life.

Marks last thoughts, as he drifted into sleep, lifted up like smoke from an ancient fire until they reached the plane of consciousness that merges with the realm known as dreamtime. This would be the last good night’s sleep Mark Lecter would get for quite some time.

Chapter 5

The next morning Mark awoke as he always did, early, and begin getting himself ready for the trip. He took a long, lingering shower thinking as he did so this may be the last one he would get for at least the next several weeks. There were showers at South Pole Station Y, but hot water was rationed, so this would be the last of the long showers until he returned.

They were to travel to the facility in large snow cats whose paddle-covered treads stood as tall as an average man. As Mark left the barracks to travel the short distance to the commissary for breakfast, he noticed Ivan, standing near three large snow cats each being attached to a tanker much like one you would see being pulled behind a semi on any road, anywhere in the world. Bjorn, the Swede, only a few paces ahead of Mark slowed his pace and turned his head," Mark! Are you ready for your adventure?"

“I think so. I've been a lot of places, but not a lot of archaeology is done in the polar climes. No good dirt." Mark flashed his trademark smile. A smile that had gotten him permission to dig in so many places, had given him the shelter of so many women’s companionship over the years, "So, if we are all in snow cats, with all due respect, why do we need all your dogs?"

“The oilmen, those at CQ, Suzanne's people, want redundancy. The station is costing a lot of money and the equipment they've placed there continues to have... glitches I guess you would say in English. I'm your backup plan. And, "his voice tone suddenly changing, "I've traversed the Arctic my whole life. Before I die I've always said I wanted to see the South Pole. Who can pass up an all-expense paid trip to a place you've always wanted to go?"

Mark chuckled. He got the immediate sense he was going to like Bjorn.

As they entered the commissary the rest of their party was already seated.

“Good! We’re all here.”, said Suzanne, her laptop in front of her, "I've put together a small PowerPoint presentation about where we’re going and what we hope to do when we get there."

She pivoted the screen of laptop to face the rest of the party seated around the table, "A few years ago, by accident, pretty much, I reckon, some folks at NASA came across satellite readings that indicated... energy, or, if you will, heat, being emanated from the spot here on the South Pole." She pointed to a space that had been indicated by a small red circle, "My company, CQ, got involved because nowadays, with things dried-up, or drying up I should say, we like to stake our claims early. But as the as the data was further analyzed, they found something else. Something very dense and it gives off readings that the equipment, currently in place, in the sky and on the ground cannot interpret. Well, it can't interpret well enough for my bosses. They’re simple men, most of them."

With that she smiled and began to explain the different minerals they thought might be underneath them. After she explained each subsection, she paused to remind everyone that because the readings were showing densities never before recorded, this could be the find of the century, or it could be something else entirely. What that something else might be she did not say.

“We should have good weather for a trip," said Alice, the Australian meteorologist and climatologist, "and once we get down there we will be underneath the ice so storms won’t really affect us. But of course they will affect the snow-cats, and Bjorn I am a dog lover, I will let you know if something's coming so that you can get those dogs in the shelter. However I want to stress, again, to each of you the unpredictability, and severity, of the unpredictable weather on this continent. The ocean that swirls around Antarctica keeps the air churning above it. There's very little geography here to stop a storm once it starts. So they just have to peter out. And that can be days, even weeks, there's evidence of storms that have lasted for months. But I'm not here to scare you, I've got the best equipment in the business and I know how to use it."

Suzanne's presentation was informative and witty with her southern accent humorously pronouncing many of the more complex scientific terms she tried to describe. Suzanne was a geologist, a good one Mark gathered, who had gone to work for CQ with honest intentions of trying to save the world. When she was younger she spent some time in Africa and had seen the ravages of the diamond trade their. She told them the night before that her mission in life, as she put it, was to find deposits of gold, diamonds - anything that makes people do evil to obtain them - so vast that it would eliminate the need for people to kill each other for them.

When they walked outside Ivan met them in front of the snow cats. He explained that they would be divided into three groups, three people each, and that Bjorn was to put his dogs into a converted livestock trailer for the time being. Bjorn said the dogs would not like it, but that he understood the need to travel quickly and the snow cats would allow them to make good time. To go 200 miles in Antarctica, hauling tons of machinery and supplies, over terrain that changes constantly is difficult to say the least. Fortunately for the team, modern methods of travel are quite comfortable, relatively speaking. The snow cats stood nearly 20 feet high and were spacious enough inside so that everyone could spread out and get comfortable for the long trip ahead. Each was captained by a team of drivers, residents of McMurdo Station, who traversed this terrain regularly. They would drive the nine members of the expedition there in three snow cats. Each cat would be towing a trailer. They would leave all three trailers and one of the snow cats, drive back to McMurdo in the other two, and come to retrieve the team 45 days later.

Ivan gave them their assigned groups with a satisfaction in his voice that Mark found annoying. It was obvious, to everyone, that Ivan felt he was the de facto leader of the group. Mark was placed with Alice and Lee, which made him very relieved. He wanted to spend time with Ingrid, of course, but people can become testy on long road trips. And this was going to be a very long drive.

Suzanne, Bjorn, and Carlos made up the second group. With Ian, Ivan, and Ingrid in the third snow cat. Carlos seemed to find it hilarious that the three individuals whose names began with the letter I were all placed in the same group. "Curses come in threes, you know," said Carlos. His thick accent adding pageantry to every word he said, "driver, don't drive too close to them!"

The groups boarded their respective transports and the journey began. Mark, Alice, and Lee set up a small table in the back of the snow cat drinking coffee and making casual conversation. Their two drivers, Larry and Steve, seemed like a really nice guys. They reminded Mark of some of the people he had met over his years in the world of academia who seemed perpetually stuck in the 1960s.

As the snow cats lumbered across the vast expanse of white, Mark thought to himself, while looking out the window, "If you were to get lost out here, you have no point of reference to follow, nothing to go on, how could anyone survive even a day out here?” In every direction the glistening white snow reflected up into a pale blue sky that seemed devoid of structure, texture, any point of reference one could use for familiarity. Alice and Lee proved to be great companions for the drive. Each had led a fascinating life. Alice had grown up near the ocean and surfed since she was a very small girl. She was apparently quite good at it, and it won several competitions whose names sounded very impressive. Mark, who always felt uneasy on the ocean and felt most at home nestled in the dry, cool earth. Surrounded by history. Every speck of dirt a potential story to be told.

The ocean destroyed its archaeological treasures. Ground away at them much like the wind, but ever-present, and dispersed them within its mass until nothing of the original remained. Underwater archaeology was a field mark had never delved into. At least not to any great extent. Mark had been scuba diving before, but disliked the feeling of breathing the compressed air.

Lee, whose English, Mark noticed, was actually very good for someone who lived in a country that is completely isolated from the rest of the world, told them how when Kim Il Sung came to power, for a time, things were good. At least in Pyongyang, where he had spent the majority of his life, but as the son, Kim Jong-Il, became entrenched after his father's death in 1994, things had gotten worse. Lee, like most North Koreans mark had met over the years, referred to Kim Jong-Il as their "dear leader". He explained that he was a very bright student as a boy and was allowed to go special schools. This meant he was given better food than the other children, his family was given a better house to live in, and life was pretty good for a long time. By chance, while at University, Lee began reading about nuclear physics. This drew the attention of some of his instructors, because he was so intelligent, and he was asked to join the People's Army as a special scientist for secret projects.

He explained that, from the day he arrived, it was made clear to him that he was going to be asked to design an atomic weapon. Because Lee, and his family, had been treated so well by the government, he felt it his patriotic duty to work as hard as he could to bring the technology and power of nuclear weaponry to the Democratic People's Republic of North Korea. But over the years, as the entropy of communism had settled in, leaving much of his beloved country without basic necessities, he began to feel disenchanted because those in power were the only ones not suffering. Only the poor and those in the rural villages were suffering. So he began to use whatever influence he had, which he humbly described as very little, to affect change for his people. But developing powerful, reliable, portable nuclear power he could push his country into the 21st century with all of the luxuries that would accompany it.

At least, that was his dream.

Mark, Alice, Lee, Larry, and Steve seemed to enjoy each other's company and, as the snow cats arrived at the station some 16 hours later, they all exchanged handshakes and pleasantries as they unload the snow cats and unhitched the trailers. One of the drivers who'd been to the station before walked up to the entryway, cleared some snow from panel, and to press the button. Then a few moments later a loud, Scottish voice crackled from a source unseen by Mark and the others, "You're here! We'll be right up!"

Mark found Larry and Steve such interesting individuals, that had he known that would be the last time he would ever see either of them alive again, he probably would've offered more than a handshake.

Bjorn’s dogs ran wild, chasing and barking, the joy of freedom from that metal cage. Seeing the dogs romping in the snow made all of the human onlookers break out in laughter. They were all tired, and it was a welcome relief after a grueling day in a snow-cat.


Chapter 6

Goodbyes were said and the drivers piled into the two snowcats that were heading back to McMurdo. Driving in shifts, these long journeys were actually best dealt with driving straight through. The cat Steven and Larry had been driving was the one that was to remain at South Pole Station.

Steve went with Sean and Chris, two guys who have been driving around the South Pole for nearly a decade, and Larry went in the cat with Clay and Henry. They wanted to get back as quickly as possible, and knew they could make good time if the weather held without those trailers being attached to the cats.

Today was Henry's girlfriend's birthday. A big surprise party had been planned in her honor at the commissary. Right before they had left, Adam, the shift manager, had come up Sean and told them they were a big prank planned and wanted them to play along.

Henry's girlfriend, Colleen, had been told that the plans had been changed at the last minute and that Henry would not be able to back in time for the party. In fact, Adam had told Colleen that the plans had been changed requiring Henry to remain at the station for the duration of the team's visit. Colleen was very upset, but Adam had told her without leaving her enough time to speak to Henry about it and she had had to get to work. She was unhappy with Henry, and figured she would just talk to him on the radio later that night when she was off. Having a day to cool off would keep her from saying anything rash, as Henry was a good guy and the closest thing to love she had ever experienced.

Suddenly the walkie-talkie crackled, "Oh God! - Guys I'm so sorry I forgot to tell you, right before we left Adam told me that they're pulling a little prank on Colleen, sorry Henry can't believe I forgot to tell you this, anyway they're having a big surprise party for her birthday at the commissary tonight and they're going to tell Colleen that Henry - again I'm sorry I forgot to say this - a Russian drunk wouldn't stop talking the whole way down here - has to stay down here for 45 days or something. So we're not supposed to radio on the way back that we are coming. Adam said just to leave the radios off and go as fast as we can. He'll try to stall for us until we get there. Sean, won't Colleen be so surprised?”

“Yeah," Sean said, “but I don't know why Adam didn't tell me anything about this.”

“Adam was running around like a chicken with his head cut off this morning. I'm surprised he remembered to tell me. We just happened to bump into each other right before we rolled out.”

The trip down had taken just over 16 hours, but going back, without the trailers, if they drove fast they could make it to McMurdo in about 10 hours. That would get them they're right about nine o'clock in the evening. Radios were clicked off after it had been agreed that they would drive side-by-side so if anything happened they would see each other or use the walkie-talkies.

To the three men inside the snow cats the time passed quickly as they discussed the possibilities that awaited them on their return. Sure they had been driving for two days, but they had slept in shifts on the way down and felt well rested.

Now, with the anticipation of the night's festivities ahead of them, none of them felt anything less than wide-awake.

This, perhaps, would have been a comforting or reassuring thought to their loved ones because, a few hours into the journey, near simultaneous explosions blew the two snow cats into billions of tiny fragments that were carried away in the Antarctic winds.

Back in McMurdo, the logs had all been adjusted to indicate these six men would all remain at the South Pole Station, with the research party, and bring them back in 45 days time. Adam Welcker, second shift leader at McMurdo Station and seventh in chain of command over all, felt and heard a loud explosion near his left ear in the last nanosecond of his life. As the slug of the 45 ripped through his skull, his last conscious thoughts were angry feelings of betrayal. “How can I have been so stupid? Of course the bastard was lying all along. Adam, you fool!”

Adam Welker’s body was dumped into the sea and carried out with the tide. There was no next of kin to notify and his history of drinking too much, too often, made most people around McMurdo Station believe he had tied one on, gone for a walk, gotten too close to the sea, and probably had just fallen in.

Things like that happen all the time on Antarctica.

The Secret Yajweh Tapes Volume One

THE SECRET YAJWEH TAPES ~ VOLUME 1

My name is Yajweh. I am making these tapes because I am about to do something that,
quite frankly, I don’t know if I’m going to come back from and I want my story told the
way I want to tell it. I’ve started and stopped recording this now dozens of times and so
forgive me if I meander a little bit here at first. I’m planning on making them 9 sessions.
This is number 1 and my hope is that within the body of those 9 sessions, my story will be
told.

I reside right now on planet Earth among the humans. Hello everyone. I have been
here now, in Earth years, about, I guess, 3,500 hundred. Forgive me for not being exact.
Time works a little bit differently for me than it does for you.

The planet that I am from is a planet near the centre of the galaxy, our galaxy, the Milky
Way, you call it, which is a galaxy that is teaming with life, some new like you and some
very old like me. The planet that I am from is heavily forested with trees that have grown
for what would be hundreds of thousands of Earth years.

When I was a child, my earliest memory is looking up at a greenish sky that we have there
and having my mother explain to me that my father had been killed.

My parents: my mom, she was a school teacher, I assume still is. She taught linguistics,
for a lack of a better term. She taught languages. My father was the equivalent of a
forest firefighter…fireman?

Fires on my planet are common, but there are trees that must be protected at all cost
because they hold within them the history of our people, of our planet, of everything that
has ever happened there. Much like aboriginal dream time here on Earth.

She gave me that day a small piece of wood, maybe 6 or 7 centimetres high, 2 of
3 centimetres in diameter, with a hole bored through the middle. Almost like a
marshmallow from the circular sides with a hole bored through. She told me it was called
inodoxquai (spelling?) and that inodoxquai was a key used to communicate with some
of the ancient groves of trees on my planet, and the reason why the middle was missing
is that this was taken from one of the oldest trees that had died and that no one could
ever risk someone, whether through nefarious means or accidentally, coming across that
core ancient knowledge from the first days of our planet. I subsequently learned that it’s
actually not that interesting, especially not from an Earthling’s perspective.

My father had died protecting some of the most ancient trees in the galaxy. Trees
through which a force of life flows that is deeper than any ocean, more vast than the
universe itself it seems at times to me. I was then, as the eldest, given the opportunity

to follow in his footsteps. I chose not to. I chose this on my own after finding out all the
different parts, the different pieces, that taking on that job would entail and feeling that
my younger sibling would be better suited to serve the needs of my people and carry on
my father’s proud tradition.

So, I instead, chose to follow under the tutelage of my mother – linguistics – and became
fascinated with some of the ancient rituals and the old cultures that exist in our galaxy;
species who have been around in Earth year equivalent hundreds and millions of years.
You can’t imagine in an Earthly context the amount of knowledge that has been amassed
by these cultures. What we sometimes ask ourselves here as the deepest questions
fathomable are the stuff of children’s books to them.

But, I began my studies and as I began pursuing this field, I became aware of a transition
that was happening on a planet named Nibiru. The planet of Nibiru was seeing the end
of the House of the Sixth Emperor, who was, with respect, a bloody tyrant to any species
with whom he came in contact. He was a shoot-first-ask-questions-later type of being to
the extreme, blinded by his greed and lust for power. His health was bad and his time
was soon to pass.

The Seventh Emperor of Nibiru was somebody who I knew from school. The guy that was
in line – it’s not sons – it’s part of a certain family dynasty, would be the way to term it.
He had passed all the tests and he had met with the councils there and he was in line to
be Emperor Seven. He wanted to change back the course of his people. He wanted to
rekindle the days when Nibiru and the Anunnaki were known for their great generosity and
their ingenuity, their ability to problem solve in creative ways to help other species, other
races, other planets, instead of this lust that had overtaken the House.

The people of Nibiru love gold. It is something that is much like carbon is to people on
Earth and water, gold is to the Anunnaki of Nibiru. It is essential for life. It contributes
to their very make-up of both them as physical entities and their surroundings and this
planet, Earth, which I always knew before as Delta Sol, had, by galactic standards, an
easily accessible supply of gold.

When he became Emperor Seven, he said he wanted to form a team to go to Delta
Sol and learn more about the cultures there. That there would be 9 and that he had
researched the proto-cultures that existed at the time. He knew where they would be
placed and at during which times they’d be placed. He said that we would be chosen
based upon unique skills and that he wanted me part of this team because I have the
ability, I guess, to see both sides. I think I get that from my initial studies being in
language. When you study language, there’s not a good or a bad, it’s just a translation,

it’s finding common ground, it’s finding a way to make one make sense in an equivalent
fashion with the respective other. I love translating. I’ve taught Vince a lot of it. Prince
has no interest in it. I’ve tried to teach those who want to know. I was sent to Earth as
part of this team.

The Sixth Emperor of Nibiru was a cruel, cruel leader. When the Seventh Emperor’s time
came, he wanted to shift the perception of his people, both on and off world. He wanted
the community around him to understand in no uncertain terms that there was a shift in
paradigm there that had occurred with his taking over and by sending this team to Earth,
the goal was simple – we would like the people of Earth to supply us with as much gold
as they can and we would like them to do this in a way that will accomplish three things:
1) We would like them to enjoy their toils. We would like them to have a taste of what
technology can bring them in the form of leisure, in the form of advancement, in the form
of in betterment of life; 2) We would like the people of Earth to be prepared for being
brought into the community of worlds in our galaxy –

And the Seventh Emperor of Nibiru of the Anunnaki…and you’ll have to forgive me, people
who know that I should know better. My…the formality with which I speak has lessened
as my years on this planet have waned. I choose to speak English because it is right now
the most commonly understood language on your planet. I try to speak simple English,
I guess I should say. I try not to use an accent and I do this for a very specific purpose.
My communications with many of those that you would consider the ‘global elite’ are done
in different languages with a different voice. I can speak however I want. I choose to
speak this way.

Now…so the first thing was, he wanted the people of Earth to basically like gathering gold
for them. 2) He wanted somehow to get them ready to join the galactic community and
have himself be able to take some credit for that. As…you know…look what I did, look at
this contentious species that was always looked at as just too primitive and twisted and
just culturally inept to be brought in. Look where I have brought them. The third thing
that he wanted to do was kind of, I guess, grander in scope and that was that he wanted
to introduce religion on a global sense to the people of Earth. He wanted the people of
Earth to believe in something more than what they were.

There is no easy way to explain what God is, even for the ancient ones, but God does
exist, surely you know this. We anthropomorphize God into some kind of a human, you
know, white bearded figure, depending on which culture you’re from, of course, but there
is a “God”. There is a “devil”. Some call it polarity, a positive and a negative. Some call it
light and dark. Some call it hot and cold. Some call it up and down. Some call it left and
right. Some call it inside or outside. The force that you feel pulling you one way versus

the pull that you feel pulling you the other and the constant striving for balance that we
feel as humans is what makes us humans. I know I said “us” and I don’t want to be
confusing here, but I’ve been part of your race for a long time.

I’ve seen very, very horrible things done and I’ve also seen very, very wonderful things
done also and I try to keep that in balance day to day, moment by moment. Day by day
is how I try to live – that’s all you can do.

So, with these three things in mind, when the Sixth Emperor passed and the Seventh
Emperor came to the throne, myself and 8 others were brought in and given a
presentation, I guess, might be a fun way of explaining it, of His Excellency’s plan, and
it was grand in scope and not one of us turned him down. All 9 who were brought in to
come here accepted their mission with sincere, sincere hearts. We have tried to do our
best.

So what happened was, he said, basically…I’m going to try and explain this as easily as I
can without rambling and I know I ramble. He’s going to send us each to a different area
of Earth at a different time in history. This is the part where people get hung up. Time
travel is, of course, possible.

Einstein was dead on when he talked about…as soon as you go faster than the speed of
light, you’re basically going back in time. Now, one of the big things that can bend light
is gravity and there has been a lot of science done on gravity. That’s how “UFOs” get
around. Gravity, like anything else, is a series of equations that can be, on a base level,
manipulated and should only be attempted by people who very much know what they’re
doing. Let’s put it that way.

So, we arrived on this planet and we had been instructed very simply. We had, I
guess, the equivalent in Earth time would have been about a year of training. We were
trained by individuals from various species, various races. And I say species and races
because there are species who are not sentient. They don’t’ choose to participate in the
community of worlds and that’s fine for them. There are some that visit here that you’d
want to be aware of. The menacing Greys are one of them…

Let me tell you a little story about the Greys. Let me sidetrack here for a second. You
know why the Greys are so popular here? It’s because they make themselves popular.
They seek nothing more than fame and attention. The Greys come from a planet very
near my home world. They know I do not fear them. They know they do not want
to mess with me. We have been the rounds over the years. They have tried to take
individuals with whom I was working at the time, which is unacceptable. They have done
grotesque modifications of humans over the years that have resulted in crazy myths and

legends being spun as a consequence. They do this to toy with you. The Greys seek
nothing more than your attention. The Greys are here for one reason and one reason
only…they like to cause trouble and dissension. They like to cause chaos. They are a
very ancient species, and I use the term ‘species’ here because I do not consider them
sentient, and here is why – they don’t think on an individual level. They’ve been empathic
for so long that I’m one of the few people I know that can really understand what they’re
actually saying. They work from a common collective that has existed for millennia as a
source of destruction in the galaxy. I’m asked all the time, why are they not just wiped
out. They powers that be here on Earth ask me that on a monthly basis – isn’t there
anything that can be done?

The reason the Greys are not wiped out is because long ago, a rule, an unwritten law we
can call it, was set into motion that basically says you do not kill anything. The force of
life that exists in plants, trees, people, rocks, water, the sky, stars, even the menacing
Greys, comes from the same spring. Playing judge, jury and executioner is what the
negative side, the devil side, wants you to do. What the positive side, the God side, wants
of us – and this is known, this is not my opinion, this is known – is that we find balance;
we find ways to compromise and live in peace.

My views on the Greys are not universally held, there are some who find value in their
technology. They are one of the species who understands gravity very well. Their work
has, arguably, brought good. But I have seen them torment the human race for too long
to stand silent. But I don’t want to get sidetracked.

The training lasted about a year and basically what we were taught was what the Akashic
record showed…was what had happened on Earth, what was happening now, what was
going to happen.

Let me explain the Akashic record very quickly because I get asked about this a lot. Edgar
Casey made a big deal out of it. He was a tormented guy, to put it lightly.

There exists in our galaxy a record, if you will, of everything that has ever happened, is
happening now and ever will happen within a certain scope, and let me explain that scope.
1) Alternate timelines. Alternate timelines don’t exist. That’s the cookyest science fiction
nonsense I’ve ever heard.

And Mitchio (spelling?), if you’re listening to me right now, next time we meet up, I have
got the equation figured out. Yes, I got it figured out. I’m going to show you and you
can put it on your little science channel show.

There is only one timeline because when you travel backwards or forwards through time,

so to speak, time doesn’t cease to exist for you as you travel. When you get there,
you don’t have the experience you would have had over those years that you missed.
Your brain goes with you, folks. Because we’re all connected on a base level, here you
would call it on a spiritual level or your souls are interwoven like fractals, you…because
everything is connected, all the information is coming to a central source. The process
of cataloguing this information, as you can imagine, is intense. The process of accessing
this information is beyond comprehension for most people, for most humans. You have
to use, I guess the way to describe it would be…you’d have to use a different part of your
mind, one that most of you have shut off by your respective cultures around the time you
learn how to talk and walk. You’re born with it but that part of your brain is never used
and it shrivels up and dies, really. People who have this ability are able to…what’s the
best way to describe this without sounding really corny?…um…catch a glimpse, I guess, of
bits and pieces of things that have happened, things that are going to happen, things that
are happening now. The part about the future a lot of people find very tricky, but it’s no
different than the past or the present.

Do you know everything that’s going on right now? Right now. Your husband, your wife,
your son, your daughter, your friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, boss, neighbour - when they’re
not in the room with you, do you know what they are doing? They’re still doing it, right?
Doesn’t mean it’s not happening unless you’re one of those people who believe that when
people leave the room, everything ceases to exist except for what you’re experiencing
right now, which is again an unfortunate side effect of the common culture on this planet.

That’s why…the Seventh Emperor…that’s why we were asked to bring religion here.
Each of us were thought of as prophets in our day, each of us 9. Yeshua (spelling?)
was Jesus. I get asked a lot about Mohammed. Mohammed was not one of the 9, but
Mohammed was a good man. I never knew him personally, but I can tell you from folks
that I have known over the years who did have contact with him back then when they
were alive, and the couple of us that did meet him, his agenda was clean. He wanted to
bring order to a world that had none. He strived for balance. Sure, he had his own way
of expressing that agenda, but his intentions were pure.

The ancient religions on this planet believed the Gods must be satiated with sacrifice
because they believed that the most powerful thing was going with…you know…giving up
something that you cherished. Let me try and explain this. This is worth taking a moment
and trying to explain here.

The ancient cultures of Earth lived in a world where a freak storm was thought to be the
work of the angry Gods, where disease, a bad yield of crop, was thought to be the work of
angry Gods. What for them…what could they do to show the Gods how sorry they were

or how much they loved them, how devoted they were? What could they do? They had
to part with something they believed that was dear to them. Now, that could be in the
old days, a sharp rock, a stick that you’d used to hunt with that had brought you luck,
that you could throw into a bog, throw into the sea. By giving up this item, this thing that
you held dear, that your existence depended on and casting your salvation to the Gods,
it was thought that you gave them the respect they required of you for them to grant
their blessings. Then, as proto-humans started to…I guess…develop agriculture, would
be the term to use, animals were very prized because of meat, hides, for obvious reasons.
They were sacrificed, because this was thought of as pleasing to the Gods and when they
started doing human sacrifices, that’s when a lot of attention got drawn to this planet on
a galactic sense. Because, again, the unwritten law in our galaxy, the on that everyone
abides by, that’s worked for millions and millions of years, is we don’t kill each other.

We try to find balance; we try to find peaceful ways to co-exist because on a base scale,
everybody wants the same things. Sorry, my throat’s getting dry.

So, when were asked to bring religion here, it was a very touchy subject because we had
to change the…we had to change minds. We had to convince people somehow that there
was something beyond their existence, some other reason to be good.

You know it’s funny, in western culture at least, when kids are young, they got the tooth
fairy. They find out that’s not real, but there’s still Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Be
good and you’ll get a Christmas present. Then they find out that’s not real. The next
logical progression is God. Well, everybody tells me be good and God will send me to
heaven. What if that’s not real? That’s the kind of mindset we were up against when we
began proselytizing back in the days.

We were given permission to…people thought they were miracles…people thought we
were…people thought we were magic! We brought them along kicking and screaming
some of them. Dragging their culture away from the histories of violence that some of
these had lived in and tried to instil in them, each in their own respective way, a simple
notion. Don’t go around judging people, don’t kill people, find ways to find common
ground, find…there are things among you that are different, but on a base scale, when
you peel back all these tertiary things, that in the grand scheme of things don’t really
matter, we all want the same stuff. We all want to be taken care of and happy, a roof
over our head, food in our belly, find some purpose in our life, find something that we’re
passionate about and be able to explore and do that, and a great many of us also feel the
need to in better society in doing that.

There are those who seek, for nefarious purposes, power, money. Those people, they will

never be satiated; the thirst that they have cannot be quenched, and let me explain what
hell is.

Hell is after you die, thirsting for whatever it is you search for now that’s not of a spiritual
nature. Let me give you an example. If you’re an alcoholic and you wake up in the
morning and your first thought is: get a drink. What are you going to do if you pass and
no longer have a physical body to imbibe that alcohol? If you’re a drug addict and your
every waking thought is how am I going to get my next fix, when you’re gone without a
physical body, how are you going to do that? If you’re addicted to sex, if you’re addicted
to pornography, if you have desires that you don’t let anyone else know about because
you consider them too personal, but nonetheless, they devour you daily, how are you
going to exist in peace when you no longer have a physical body to satiate those wants
and desires.

The same thing comes from too much comfort from your money. Those of you who are
wealthy, have you forgotten the keys to the kingdom? Have you forgotten what keeps
us in business? Do you know what I mean by that? What I mean is you don’t need a
house with three bathrooms and seven rooms. You don’t need two cars. You don’t need
to consume the resources that you consume on this planet. Everything in your home
was shipped from one place to another on a truck that spewed out pollution, packed with
styrofoam that stays around for a long time, ladies and gentlemen. And even those of you
who think you are green or who are environmentally conscious; the house you live in is
made of wood, is it not, or concrete that was ripped from the Earth?

How many of you right now, if the shit hit the fan and everything came crashing down
around you, how many of you could survive out there? I’m not talking about people trying
to take your stuff. I’m not talking about some apocalyptic due in which, you know, may
very well be a real possibility to some extent, but what I’m talking about here for our
discussion is could you survive? Could you find water you could drink? Could you find
food, could you make a fire if you had no matches? Could you build shelter? Do you
know anything at all about how to make your own clothing, or would you be able to kill
an animal and use their skin to keep warm? What would you do? Ask yourself this as
you fall asleep tonight. Ask yourself if everything ended around me and I had to exist
just with myself, would I be comfortable, would I be content, would I be happy? Because
that’s how you prepare yourself for death.

That’s what we tried to teach people in the ancient times. We said there is a hereafter,
one which you can control. The Gods are not forces who have a will of their own who can
conspire against you when they’re angry and who can bless you when they are pleased.
It’s…there’s one side that wants good and there’s one side that wants bad. We’re all

caught in the middle, every one of us. The trillions and trillions of beings throughout the
galaxy, we’re all caught in the middle of the force. We all struggle to find our place in the
stream, where we’re not being pulled one way or the other. We can stop and float awhile,
look up at the sky and relax. That’s what we’re all looking for, and on an Earthly scale,
the people here, a lot of them, had never thought that way. What they thought was my
existence is hard. Every day I don’t know if I’m going to get enough to eat, I don’t know
if I’m going to survive the next storm. If all of a sudden people start getting sick and
dying, am I going to survive that? It was constant worry, a lot like it is now, I guess. But
we brought religion here to this planet because it seemed like a good thing to do at the
time. Oh, I’m trying to be honest. Sometimes in the spirit of candour I say things that
perhaps I should take back.

We wanted the people of Earth to start appreciating the simple fact that they are alive.
Do you know you’re alive? You, listening right now, do you know that you’re alive? Do
you know that you are, within your soul, your spirit, you are capable of everything you can
possibly imagine? When you dream at night, do you fly? Who are the people around you
in your dreams? Do you wake in fear of going back to sleep or do you wake wishing you
could go back into that dreamtime and experience that feeling again. Because this may
be hard for some of you to hear – that’s what’s going to happen when you die. Just like
when we dream, that’s what happens when you die.

You have to get yourself in balance and the way to do this that I have found helpful in
my experience with humans on Delta Sol is by trying to step back from both the things
that are going good for you and the things that are going bad for you. Let me give you
an example. Let’s say your job is the shits (sorry, I don’t like to curse). Let’s say your
job is awful, but let’s say you have a loving family, then everything’s fine on the home
front or vice-versa. You feel almost sometimes like you’re two different people, don’t you?
You’re one person at work, where you feel like you have to be a jerk, you have to be on
edge to be successful to survive in that environment and then when you go home, you
feel almost like you have to flip that switch off and be a nice person or maybe vice-versa.
Maybe you have trouble at home and you feel like at home you have to be a disciplinarian
or you have to be tough; you have to put your foot down because that’s the only area of
life you feel like you have control and maybe in your work or your professional life or your
school, you feel like you have no control. You’re just a technician, just a cog in the wheel
and you’re trying to do your best. Step back from that for a minute because none of that
matters.

When you dream at night do you think about…do you dream thinking how am I going to
pay my mortgage, how am I going to get a new car, how am I going to pay my credit card
bills. If you do, you’ve got to figure out a way to reclaim your soul. You’ve got to dive

deep within yourself. You’ve got to get back to the person, the being, that you were when
you were just a child, before all the evil and sick, twisted stuff that goes on in this world
happened to you. Get back to that and try to start again from there.

Every baby is perfectly balanced, every one perfect. There is no original sin. We are born
pure. We are born with everything – pre-wired, hard-coded, if you will, into our…your
brains (I’m trying to speak in human terms). It’s all there, you just have to remember it.

I know it’s difficult to put aside the real concerns of life because I know that a great
many of you have people who are dependent on you, your children or whomever. What
I ask that you try is that at night before you go to sleep, or if you sleep during the day,
whenever, before you go to sleep, try to clear your mind. Try this…try thinking of a very,
very large piece of clear, white paper that seems endless. Just imagine trying to find
the edge of the paper. Put your mind in a loop. You’re just looking for something that
doesn’t exist anyway. Put a face on it. Call it the white paper. But clear your mind before
you go to sleep at night. When you dream, if you fly, come and see me. Call my name as
you fall asleep. Think of me. Think of my voice. Put on this tape and listen to it. I am
Yajweh of the Anunnaki and I am here to help the people of this planet because I, in the
3500 plus years…Earth years, that I have been here, I have developed such good friends.

I have seen your people grow in exponential terms. Let me give you one example. A long
time ago, I lived on the island of Fiji, near Suva. There was an old man in the village who
had come to the village from the sea who did not speak the language, who had, for lack of
a better term, washed up on shore one day with no provisions in a busted up canoe and
he was taken in by the village. He was old, he didn’t speak the language, he had learned
some of the verbiage…I guess…I don’t know how to describe it…he’d learned somewhat
how to communicate but he was old, he was nice and he kept to himself, fished, he didn’t
require really anyone’s assistance.

He had in his possession around his neck a medallion, very shiny, and the people all
coveted this medallion. So even though they couldn’t communicate with him, they all tried
to do nice things for him, thinking that when he passed, they could claim it as theirs, as
their inheritance, or he might bequeath it to them or somehow give it to them. It’s very
hard to do nice things or to brown-nose or kiss-up to somebody who does not need your
assistance, to someone who requires very little.

One of the young children in the village used to bring this gentleman, every day, a rock
from the beach and place it on his doorstep, and he did this for years. One day he
brought the man a rock and put it on his doorstep and the man took the rock, held it high
and smashed it with a bigger rock…he…some implement. It was a geode. Inside the

boy had never seen…now I’m trying to think of the story…I don’t remember if it was a
little boy or a little girl…anyway, the child had never seen something so cool and had to
explain to the villagers what happened. They believed that a God had done this. They
believed, after the child had told them that the man who wore the shiny medallion around
his neck had given this to him, or had broken a rock open and had showed this to him.
They believed that he must be a God and changed from just trying to be nice to him to
obsession; bringing him food, bringing him gifts, people brought their daughters, trying to
get him to marry them and to impregnate them.

The old man wanted none of this, so he left the island. He…I would assume he just went
to a different part of the island and took up residence there until his days expired. But the
man was not Fijian. The man was Incan and he was from the city of Machu Picchu and
he had gotten lost on an expedition at sea and he was the only one who had survived and
he had come to live in Fiji. Their languages were very different, their cultures were very
different. Around his neck he wore an emerald…just an emerald necklace with gold, but
of course, the Fijians had not seen anything like that and they thought of it as magical.

Now, the point to this story is this: up until that time, I had this perception of the people
of Earth as barbaric…I guess. You were beneath me; you were something I was studying.
I was here to help out. I felt pity but not on a real sense of compassion. It was more
out of a duty or obligation. This person was allowed to live and exist. He could’ve
been…the people there could’ve gathered together and knocked the guy out and taken
his possessions. They could’ve killed him. Why didn’t they? Well, because that would’ve
been considered inhospitable or impolite. He was a guest. He came from the sea. What
would they want if they washed up on someone’s beach? They would want to be allowed
to exist. The prospect of getting…finding your way back home may not be feasible but
you would want to be allowed to exist.

It changed my paradigm on the human race. I realized for the first time you people
are not animals. You are sentient beings who feel the pull from both sides, but you
understand that positivity and love and good is the way to go. On a base level, you
understand that.

Most of the people I’ve met on this planet who consider themselves “devil worshippers”
or practice the dark arts – they may wear dark clothing and slick their hair back and
have very pale complexions some of them. They do so out of rebellion. They feel that
they are choosing the negative over the good, typically as some kind of a spite against
an authoritarian parent perhaps from the past, or someone who at some point in their
life made them feel stupid, made them feel unimportant because they had cast their
judgement upon them and they want to prove to everyone that they are different and

unique and…friends, each and every one of you is different, each and every one of you
is unique, but each and every one of you is also part of the same spring. You’re all part
of the same…on a base level…of the same soul. We’re all branches from the same tree.
Whatever little metaphor you want to attach to it. We’re all in this together.

I began to realize that the people of Earth were more advanced than certainly the
Anunnaki and those on Nibiru who had organized the expedition had initially understood.
But even myself, as a professional…considering myself an expert on interstellar
anthropology…I became fascinated. This was something that I could know that no one
else in the galaxy would know. I would be greedy, but under the guise of good, I’m the
only one who will know all of these things, that will understand this culture. Yes, it’s the
Seventh Emperor’s idea to bring these in, but I will be the ambassador, so to speak. And I
became a little full of myself for a while.

I was only humbled when the Romans brutally murdered my friend, Yeshua; hung him
to a cross. Why? Because they feared that he was undermining the fabric of their
society. If he could provide people sustenance through his words, if people could in better
themselves and those around them, for the soul intention of making the world a better
place, why on Earth would you need the state? Why would you need a government taxing
you, controlling you, regulating your trade and your lives, if everybody was working for
the common good?

Governments exist partly because evil exists on this planet. You take care of the evil; you
people don’t need traditional governance. So a lot of the people who seek power on this
planet…a lot of the people who govern this planet seek conflict; they ferment it; they whip
you into a frenzy.

Five companies control your media. Yet no matter where you are on the planet, ninety
plus percent of everything you hear on your “news” channels through 5 different locations
on the globe…if we don’t fight against each other, why do we need politicians to globetrot
and eat fancy food and go to fancy parties and decide what’s best for the rest of us? We
only need that if there’s war and conflict going on.

And let me tell you, there have been more times in the history of your planet…but let’s
just talk about the last 14,000 years…there have been more times that peace was about
to break out and was quenched with war than vice-versa. Most people yearn to be free.
Most people yearn for peaceful existence. And I say most people because there are those
out there who…young souls mostly…who seek not to understand but to be told. They
don’t want wisdom, they want knowledge. The don’t want to read the book, they just
want to read the inside cover and then talk about it at cocktail parties. There’s nothing

you can do about those folks. There’s nothing. I’ve tried. I’ve spent, you know, a better
part of 35 plus centuries trying. You just need to walk away from those type of people.

It’s interesting, I know on these tapes I’ve been doing…Vince tells me all the time people
are saying they don’t believe it, or prove it, or something like that. Well, it’s been going
on for a long time. People come to their rabbi, their imam, their priest, preacher, or
whoever; a position of authority in their respective faith and come with the question,
often very humbly, almost afraid to ask, is there any proof that God exists? Is there any
proof that this book I’ve read my whole life is accurate? What do the good ones tell their
flocks? They tell them the same thing Yeshua told them 2000 years ago. The truth…you
will know the truth when you see it. You will know it because it will tug at your very soul.
You will feel drawn towards it. It will offer you comfort and warmth and a feeling that
everything makes sense. Even if it’s a fleeting moment, you’ll chase after it the rest of
your life. That feeling that everything around me makes…is happening for a reason. It
has happened. It will happen for a reason. I am not just floating down this torrentious
river; I am a part of the river. Every move that I make affects the outcome downstream
for every other molecule within that body. And once you grasp that, you no longer ask
for “proof”.

Now, for those of you who want proof, I promise you, by the end of the 9 sessions, I will
have more proof shoved at you than you’ll know what to do with. And you can choose
whether or not you want to share that with other people. My concern is not for the
masses. My concern is for those who seek to find me. I would like to tell you my story
before I go.

I was given the chance in October 2010 to enter into negotiations as a liaison on behalf
of the Seventh Emperor of Nibiru, with his blessings mind you, and was given the
opportunity to choose one member of my team to accompany me. I chose Yeshua who
was…you know, when the Romans killed him, when the Romans crucified him, he was
taken to a tomb where he was laid to rest and three days later, he rose from the dead
and ascended into heaven, and that was a ceremony that I am, to this day, honoured to
have been a part of, to have been there for. I saw once again the compassion that dwells
within the hearts of men. I saw at the same time the apathy, the insubordinate naivety
that exists in men who believe that somehow because they’re respected, or somehow
because they have creature comforts, are above their brothers and sisters.

So, I chose Yeshua to come back with me. He’ll be here in a couple of weeks. I have not
spoken to him in about 2000 Earth years. We’ll have a lot to catch up on. He’s not going
to like a lot of what he sees when he comes back that’s been done in his name and I am
going to do my best to explain this whole concept…this Judeo/Christian myth and lure

surrounding his “second coming” and the one you call the antichrist.

It’s interesting what pieces of truth make it through the years, survive the edits of your
books and what pieces of information are left on the cutting room floor. The antichrist is
an ancient myth, I guess, that we…my team…ugh, I hate saying this…we didn’t implant
the myth. We took an old myth that your culture had and just spruced it up a bit.
Basically, the story goes like this…

On Earth, people believed at the time that actual demons existed. In other words,
monsters, something like that. It was believed that these demons would devour you in
such a way that they would consume your spirit and that that was…they could actually
damage, not just you, but your entire clan, your entire family by doing this. So, people
would be found sometimes mauled by a bear for instance and they would have the legend
spun around so that they were attacked by this demon and that somehow their clan was
cursed and they would do all kinds of crazy things. The way around that in many of these
cultures was to go out and fast until you had a vision. They called it different things, but
it was basically you’d go out and fast yourself into hallucinating a vision, and in these
visions, depending on which way people were pulled, because most people are out of
balance, they would either see a bright light or deep, dark, you know, demonic hell…and
as…to again…it’s human nature…you guys like to anthropomorphize everything and create
something that looks like you attached to it. So, a devil was spun out and on the other
side a God was spun out and what we did was we took what was going on at the time
when they killed Yeshua and we said, basically, that these demons or that the father of
these demons, the master of these demons, would come back one day and take over the
Earth and only Yeshua coming back could save you from this. And we did this because
we thought at the time that this is going to start the biggest religion this planet has ever
experienced, and it started a big one.

Christianity has survived the test of time and…

Am I running out of time, Vince? How much? Okay. About ten minutes, he says. So I’m
going to try and wrap things up on this first tape.

So again, to summarize – my name is Yajweh. I am from a planet that is very near the
centre of the Milky Way galaxy. On my planet, because of the gravitational forces there,
things grow…everything…the rocks, the trees, the beings like me that live there, we grow
slowly. Our gestation period, for instance, would be the Earth equivalent to thousands
of years. By the time I was born, I had the Earth equivalent of, like I say, 2,000 years of
my mother’s experience that I had been experiencing in her, so to speak, womb. I’m not
saying I was born full size, but things are a bit different on that home. But, nobody cares

about that.

When I was at school, I was very good at both language and ancient culture and ritual.
One of my friends at university on Nibiru was in line to become the Seventh Emperor
of Nibiru. He gathered a team, myself being one of them, and 8 others, respectively.
A team of 9, and sent us here to Delta Sol (to Earth) where we were given the task of
getting the people of Earth to work for the Anunnaki and do so willingly, and we wanted
to help bring them up to speed, so to speak, technologically and, I guess, on a base
knowledge sense, so to speak, to be assimilated into the community of worlds in our
galaxy, what we call the Milky Way, and to kind of throw the wild card into the bunch, to
create some different, what we would now call, religions to give people a pull towards the
common good, basically. We didn’t start these to start wars, that’s…humans did the wars.
We’ve…I don’t know of…I know I have certainly never done anything intentionally to
cause one society to do battle with their neighbour. I’m pretty sure that my 8 companions
and peers, they never did anything or have never…done…anything…I think I just had an
epiphany. Okay, I need to finish up.

I am going to try to explain everything. I’m going to try to explain what has happened on
this planet over the course of the last 14,000 years, in particular, the last 3,500 years that
I have been here. I am going to explain both myself and the 8 others who came here.
A little bit about each one of us. Why we were here, what our particular expertise were,
some of the stories I’ve heard as we’ve gotten together over the years and kind of shared
experiences of what we’ve come across here.

All of us come at this from different angles. We all are supposed to be working for the
common good, at least we were. Now, what’s happened is that, well, a little thing called
the Internet happened and what that allowed us to do was…and I’ll explain the whole how
we assisted with the Internet. It’s not as exciting as Al Gore’s version of the story. But
what that allowed us to do was to create a global fabric, a global base for knowledge on
this planet. So that things could be communicated in mass very quickly and efficiently.
That’s why I choose to speak in as unaccented English as I possibly can and that’s why
I’ve chosen to use methods like Youtube, because it’s very easy to get this information out
to people who are trying to find Yajweh, and also to be very mobile in doing so.

I just had to go back and record over the ending here because I want to make sure I get
this out and I’ll have the other 8 tapes to expand on this because by the time you hear
this, I will already be gone with Yeshua. We will be deep in negotiations I would assume,
I would hope. And I will need your help.

I need every one of you to do something very difficult for me, something that will at times

seem impossible. And that is, I need you to be nice to people you come in contact with,
especially those who may seem like real jerks to you. Try to beat them up with kindness.
Try to speak to people in a more pleasant tone. Try to be more patient with people who
drive you nuts. Try to maybe let somebody in line in front of you at the grocery store.
Let somebody in getting on the freeway that looks frustrated and frazzled. And the reason
I say this is because I have to be able to show them, in these negotiations, that the
people of Earth are, on a base level, good people. These are not barbaric Neanderthals,
I guess would be a funny way of saying it in a manner of speak. You’re not schmos,
you’re not dipwads out there who are just fumbling around in your existence from day to
day doldrums, going to work, going home, flipping on the idiot box, eating a TV dinner
and passing out, with a…you know…alcoholic beverage in hand. That’s the conventional
wisdom, so to speak, that I’m trying to push away from. Now that’s kind of the western
conventional wisdom. Very common in other parts of the world, the conventional wisdom
that I have…that I’m up against…is that people don’t care about anything other than their
day-to-day existence.

The first stop I will make will be in Bangladesh, which is one of the densest, if not the
most densely populated area on the globe. The way people live there would make any
American with a soul cry their eyes out; any westerner, for that matter, with a soul, cry
your eyes out. These people have nothing. They scrounge around for…they eat garbage.
I’m not lying. It’s…I get sidetracked when I think of things like that.

One of the things that’s going to be difficult for me to explain, to bring Yeshua up to
speed on, is how his compassion has been interpreted over the years and how that may
actually…he may want to consider…I don’t know if there’s any way to get that individual
to not feel pity for everything around him. That is part of his nature. That’s part of why
he was chosen. He has the ability to be disarmingly charming when necessary. It is very
tough to push up against a wall that never pushes back, and that’s what he does, and
that’s part of why I chose him, because I have a tendency to get very carried away with
myself…get very animated. I consider myself to be very arrogant. I don’t say that in a
self-damning sense, I say that because I know…I believe I know…what is the best course
of action to take here and I am not going to be dissuaded. I won’t be. And anything that
gets in my way will be stepped over or gone through. And I chose Yeshi because he’s
going to be the sobering yin to my raging yang. He’s going to be the one that says, calm
down Yaji, you’ve…you know…we’re not at the eleventh hour yet. Let’s not throw the
proverbial baby out with the metaphorical bath water here.

So, I’m going to finish telling my story in the subsequent eight tapes. Thanks everybody
who’s donated at 5sks.com to buy these. Vince is a nice guy, a very poor musician and
the money you donate just basically goes to pay for the discs and the postage and his

time for doing this for me, and it’s not much. Vince, I very much appreciate it, as always.

I’m going to tie things up now for this tape. This is the end of tape 1. Tape 2 is coming.
I am going with Vince; we are going to go to Chanhassen, Minnesota and record at my
friend’s…Prince…he’s a well-known musician. His Studio D, Paisley Park, it’s kind of back
behind the building – very nice, very secluded, very private and I will finish out the other 8
there and by that time, they should let me know when Yeshua comes and the rest will be,
as you say, history.

Thank you very much for listening to me. I say this with the most sincere heart. Find
balance and you will find peace. That’s it for me. Yajweh over and out.