Eternity E-Book

Thomas H. Huber

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 532

Beschreibung

ATTENTION: The novels Eternity - The awakening of a new world and Cicadas Code differ only in the title. The content is identical! With this novel, Thomas H. Huber takes his readers to the edge of the universe and back to a long forgotten, mystical time. "The ideal reading for vacationers on Crete! - because the largest Greek island is at the center of this imaginative story. The Story: Samuel and Sarah Kramer are on their way to Crete for a relaxing beach vacation. But shortly after their arrival, they are plunged into a nightmare that pushes them to the limits of their sanity. The trigger is a short vacation video that Sam sends to his friend Jack Stern via WhatsApp. The movie shows Sarah looking down at the south coast from the highest point of the mountain road. All you can hear in the background is the wind and the chirping of thousands of cicadas. Stern, an encryption expert for the US Army, believes he has discovered a code in the cicadas' chirping. This brings in the mysterious William Sutherford, who sees a connection between the cicadas' code and the fate of mankind. Sam, his wife Sarah, and ten other people join him on a bizarre adventure. Who do you think loves you unconditionally? It can only be one person, yourself! No one will ever love you, trust you or acknowledge you if you can't do it yourself. All is one, one is all! The whole matrix only exists because you can't believe that you are all that exists! Think deeper than you have ever thought before. Then you will not only see the light at the end of the tunnel, you will be it! (Thomas H. Huber)

Leseprobe

I dedicate this book

to my wife Anja

and our children

Helen

Jan

Denise

Bennet

Len

"I'm glad for your existence“

Cover graphic: iStock- by Getty Images

Photos: Daniel Schneider, Bielefeld

Inhaltsverzeichnis

PROLOG

EGYPT, 2600 YEARS B.C.

DAY 1: ARRIVAL IN CRETE

DAY 2: CRETE

NOAH PART 1: APRIL 30, 1789

FEW MONTHS AGO

1982

"TOP SECRET. FOR GENERAL BAXTER'S EYES

DAY 2: CRETE

2010 EGYPT, NEAR GIZA

DAY 3: CRETE

2010 WILLIAM SUTHERFORD

DAY 4: Crete

1999: LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT?

DAY 5: CRETE

2000 SAMUEL

2000 SARAH

DAY 6: CRETE

2010

July 2009

2001

NOAH PART 2

DAY 7: CRETE

2001

DAY 8: JACK STERN'S OFFICE

1988

DAY 8: CRETE

MARCH 2002

DAY 9 RONALD GILES' OFFICE, VIRGINIA

DAY 9 JACK STERN'S TERRACE

2004

DAY 10 CRETE

ONE YEAR AGO, GERMANY, PART 1

DAY 9 RONALD GILES' OFFICE, VIRGINIA

1968

ONE YEAR AGO, GERMANY, PART 2

DAY 11, CRETE

ONE YEAR AGO, GERMANY, PART 3

DAY 12 CRETE

DAY 12 SWITZERLAND

ONE YEAR AGO, GERMANY, PART 4

DAY 10 JACK STERN HOUSE

DAY 13 CRETE, SOUTH COAST, CHORA SFAKION

ONE YEAR AGO, GERMANY, PART 5

DAY 13 NEW YORK

DAY 14 FIDES - THE FAITHFUL SERVANT

DAY 13 CHORA SFAKION

DAY 13: RONALD GILES' OFFICE, VIRGINIA

ONE YEAR AGO, GERMANY, PART 6

DAY 13 CHORA SFAKION

DAY 11 JACK STERN, HAMMERFEST

THE GENESIS UNIT

DAY 13, CHORA SFAKION

DAY 12: HAMMERFEST

ONE YEAR AGO, GERMANY, PART 7

DAY 14 CHORA SFAKION

NOAH PART 3

DAY 14 CHORA SFAKION

NOAH PART 4: THE DREAM

THE NEW HOME

DAY 14 HAMMERFEST

DAY 14 AGIA MARINA

DAY 14 HAMMERFEST

NOAH PART 5

DAY 14 AGIA MARINA

DAY 14, RONALD GILES' OFFICE, VIRGINIA

DAY 14 NORTH COAST

DAY 15 NEW ARRIVALS

NOAH PART 6

DAY 15 REPLY

DAY 15 EGYPT, CHEOPS-PYRAMID

DAY 15 CRETE

DAY 15 EGYPT, CHEOPS PYRAMID

DAY 15, ENTRANCE TO SAMARIA CANYON

DAY 15, BEFORE THE NEXT CYCLE

EGYPT, 2510 B.C. CHEOPS PYRAMID

DAY 15, END OF CYCLE, MIDNIGHT

DAY 16. THE END OF THE CYCLE

DAY 1 THE BEGINNING OF THE NEW CYCLE

DAY 1, THE AWAKENING

DAY 1 ON THE MOUNTAIN THAT HAS NO NAME

EPILOGUE: TWO YEARS LATER

THE SOUL POOL

BACK IN THE NEW LIFE

PROLOG

Our world seems to be the same for all people in principle, although it is perceived differently by each individual. What one person accepts as an unchangeable fact may be rejected by another. The question of where we come from and where we go after our earthly existence remains an unsolvable riddle until one day the deeper meaning of it all is revealed to us and we understand that we are more than the shell of flesh and bone we see every day in the mirror.

EGYPT, 2600 YEARS B.C.

"I am Anubis, the god of your past, present and future. What I hold in my hand is a very special gift for you, Great Pharaoh," a very deep voice echoed through the entrance hall of the royal palace. The voice was that of a bear and belonged to a huge being dressed in a monk's robe, with a wide hood covering his face. Then the being unrolled a large parchment on the stone floor and turned to Pharaoh: "This will make you immortal, my king. "What is this, mighty Anubis, son of Re?" The god rose to his full height beside Pharaoh, looked down at him with his head slightly tilted, and replied, "This is your eternity and my pledge. It shall be yours and serve me. Pharaoh looked at the drawing with questioning eyes and his excitement was evident. He was the undisputed ruler of Egypt, but he had great respect for Anubis, the God of the Underworld, whose power transcended all worldly things, so he hesitated to ask, "Please explain to me, great Anubis, what is this structure? Anubis leaned over the drawing and said, "This is an enormous octahedron. One limb at the base is 439 Meh-nesut," which in modern language means about 230 meters, "it will be the largest structure the world has ever seen. It consists of two parts, of which only the upper part will be visible. This part will be your tomb. Behind its walls you will attain immortality and live forever. The lower part will remain hidden in the earth and will be mine forever. Cheops looked at the structure in awe, not knowing that the pyramid named after him would continue to puzzle mankind for millennia to come.

DAY 1: ARRIVAL IN CRETE

Samuel and Sarah Kramer actually just want to spend a relaxing beach vacation on the Greek island of Crete. They felt so at home there that no other place in the world could hold a greater attraction for them. Sometimes they flew to one of the Canary Islands during the winter, but they never found the same relaxation as they did in Crete. They had no objective explanation for this; after all, they could make themselves understood even better in Spanish than in Greek, because the Romance vocabulary was simply closer to them than the Cyrillic. For this reason alone, Spain would have been the more comfortable choice for them. But they chose the largest Greek island again this summer, and at the beginning of their trip they had no idea that the true reason for this magical attraction would be revealed to them this time. As in previous years, they stayed near the small fishing village of Georgioupolis on the north coast. Georgioupolis belongs to the prefecture of Chania and is located about a hundred kilometers west of Heraklion, the island's capital. On June 25, they landed at 4:30 p.m. on a Small Planet Airline flight at Kazantzakis Airport near Heraklion. After Sam picked up their bags from the carousel, they went to the Autocandia car rental counter and picked up their car. This time it was a white Fiat Panda, and Sam was looking forward to driving around the island in the little stick. He thought it would be a change from the automatic car he drove at home. He was always amazed that as soon as he turned the key and the little engine coughed, he could shift from automatic to manual. After a brief familiarization with the vehicle, they were off. They left the parking lot of the car rental company and, after two turns, reached the New Road, the main artery of Crete, connecting the eastern and western parts of the island. After about an hour and a half of driving, they reached their accommodation and were greeted by the loud cries of cicadas. "Isn't that incredible background noise?" beamed Sam. And when he realized how loud he had to speak to drown out the insects, he laughed, "Hard to believe these critters are also called chirps. I guess it can't have anything to do with the noise they make around here. It almost sounds like a rural disturbance of the peace." Then, with a happy sigh, he pulled the suitcases out of the back of the panda: "Home at last. After checking in at the reception of the small, family-run hotel, they had the usual welcome drink on the hotel terrace. This year, they both spontaneously opted for a freshly tapped Mythos beer. "Yummy," Sam remarked happily as he licked the foam from his upper lip and let his eyes wander over the peaks of the Lefka Ori, the White Mountains. Why the second highest Cretan mountain range was so named was obvious. In winter, the snowcapped peaks gave off a white glow, and in the summer months, the rocks were especially bright. Sarah watched him and smiled, knowing how much he was looking forward to this summer vacation. She could hardly wait to drive around the island with him, even though in Germany she tended to shift nervously in the passenger seat whenever Sam exceeded their agreed-upon speed limit of 100 miles per hour, or when the traffic was heavy and the road seemed much narrower than it really was. "I know I'm a terrible passenger. I'm really sorry," she usually regretted, "but I can't help it." In Crete, however, they never drove faster than 100 km/h. It was more of a gentle glide, not the aggressive testosterone racing they were used to on the German autobahns. Even overtaking was done by mutual agreement and without any stress. If a car was faster than the one in front, the faster one would honk briefly so that the slower one would notice and then move to the right edge of the lane to let him pass. It just seemed that most drivers left their egos at home and didn't define themselves by the horsepower of their car, but rather saw the vehicle as a utility. Sarah especially enjoyed the trips to the south coast, each of which was unique. Sometimes thick clouds would hang from the peaks of the White Mountains and they would be caught in heavy showers, other times angry goats would block the road with their bleating and Sam would laughingly blow on the horn with the flat of his hand to scare the animals away with the tinny drone. If the goats and sheep were too stubborn, he would get out and either gently nudge them or gently pull them off the road with his horn. Usually they would give in, even if they looked grumpy and grumbled even louder than before. The most beautiful part of the last mountain trip was when they could suddenly look down on the south coast and the Libyan Sea from far above. Even though they had done this trip several times on every vacation, pushing the small engines of their rental cars to the limit, they were always amazed at how beautiful the world was up here. The smell of the cedars, the thyme, and the sage bushes was an olfactory delight. As did the bright blue of the sky, the deep blue of the sea, and the ochre of the rocks, which combined to create a unique color composition. The senses were flooded in an unbelievably intense way. Unfortunately, Sam and Sarah also remembered a very unusual incident during their second vacation together in Crete. They were driving over the ridge when Sarah suddenly had some kind of seizure. They were discussing their latest findings on "eating without regret" - in retrospect, an ideal topic for any vacation - when Sarah suddenly began to have trouble speaking. Staring through the windshield, she struggled to find the words, "I, I, have ........ I, I, have, uh, word...uh, I have word finding disorder." At first Sam laughed and replied, "What, you and word finding disorder? That would be a first." But when he looked at her, he immediately realized that her condition was serious. She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. He had never seen her like that before. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she made no effort to wipe them away. He slammed on the brakes and brought the panda to a stop on the shoulder. "What's wrong with you, Sarah? My angel, say something." But Sarah just looked at him apathetically. Drops of sweat appeared on her forehead and she seemed to scream silently in fear. "I'll drive you to the hospital in Chania," Sam suggested, but at that moment Sarah grabbed his wrist and stammered tremblingly, "No! Write it down! Words! Write it down!" Sam was very concerned for his wife's health. What was wrong with her? A stroke, perhaps? He told her, "Honey, I think that's dangerous. What if you have something serious? I would kick myself forever if I stayed up here in the mountains with you without getting medical help." Sarah searched for words again, rolling her eyes as if to reassure her husband and at the same time tell her mind to shut up and obediently provide her with the necessary letters. Then she spoke quietly, "Nothing bad! Trust me! Get pen, paper!" Sam looked at her with equal parts confusion and concern and started the car again. He drove as fast as the little panda could down the switchbacks towards Frankokastello, hoping to find a supermarket along the way where he could buy the writing materials he needed. Meanwhile, Sarah fell into a state that Sam found very frightening. As if in a trance, she would bend her upper body forward over the dashboard and then fall back into the back of the seat, her head hitting the headrest quite hard. As she did so, she spoke mostly unintelligible words that Sam could not understand even with the greatest of efforts. It was a mixture of single vowels and very archaic sounding noises. Only once in a while did she say something that at least sounded like a language, like the words "Neo Paphos" or "Okumani". Finally he saw a supermarket on the right side of the road, where he actually found some pens and a writing pad. After throwing a ten euro note on the counter, he quickly ran back to his wife without waiting for the rest of the money. The saleswoman looked after him and shook her head as he stormed out of her store, "Crazy tourists. Sarah was still sitting in the passenger seat, rocking her upper body back and forth and muttering something unintelligible. Sam almost panicked because she had told him to take notes and now he didn't know what to write. How can you write what you don't understand? How do you put into words something that doesn't even sound like a language? He decided to start by writing down the two words he had previously committed to memory. As he wrote, he spoke the words aloud to himself, "Nea Paphos or Neo Paphos?", he decided on Neo Paphos, it somehow sounded rounder, more pleasant. Then he wrote "Okumani". At that moment, Sarah stopped rocking back and forth and looked over at him in silence. Her expression changed completely, and Sam swallowed hard, his throat dry. Her eyeballs turned upward until only the whites were visible. What was happening to her? Was she possessed by a demon? Nonsense," he told himself, "just do what she wants“ As soon as he turned to her again full of trust and love, her nature changed again and after a few seconds she appeared clear and completely normal. She said, "Everything is fine. Just listen and write down what I have to say. Then she started dictating and he wrote as fast as he could, even though he didn't know what the words meant. From that moment on, she carried the sheet of paper with her, even on this vacation, always with the fear and, admittedly, some hope of returning to that state. Even though it was a very frightening experience, it was also exciting and moving. Anyway, Sam was annoyed that in his panic he hadn't thought to record everything with his cell phone. So from then on, every time they drove, they put one of their smartphones within reach in the center console of the car. But everything remained silent. Never again did Sarah receive new messages from the unknown source. There was something else, however, that Sam and Sarah had only experienced on their vacation in Crete, what Sarah called "paternoster dreams. Oddly enough, they both only had these dreams on the beach, never at the pool or in the hotel bed. Sarah gave the dreams this name because she felt as if she were going up several levels as she fell asleep, as if she were in a paternoster from which she could see clearly to each floor before it continued up through the ceiling. When she first told Sam about it, he remembered having similar dreams 15 years ago when he vacationed here with his first wife and children. At the time, he thought he was losing his mind because it was difficult for him to come out of such a dream state. While dreaming, he was fully aware that it was a dream, and whenever he tried to wake up, he would slip into the next dream. He could never say exactly how long he was in this state, but he found it both uncomfortable and extremely exciting. Since his wife at the time did not understand and called his descriptions esoteric nonsense, he kept quiet from then on, silently hoping that the dreams would not come back, which they eventually did. However, this had nothing to do with the fact that the phenomenon simply ceased to exist as such, but rather with the fact that they did not spend their subsequent vacations in Crete. After the dreams stopped, the memory of them faded, and at the time he just didn't suspect that it could have been because of the island. Anyway, at some point he decided to just stop talking about possible spiritual phenomena. It wasn't until he met Sarah that he opened up again and talked about things he had previously swept under the rug. With her it was different, she was receptive to the other world, but also rational and intelligent enough not to lose her ground. He was convinced that her very spirituality was one of the reasons they fell in love, and it was mutual. Sarah thought it was wonderful that Sam was able to do a very down-to-earth job and still allow his ethereal side to shine through. For a man who dealt with terrorists and enemies of the state for a living, it was quite remarkable. In any case, for both of them, the paternoster dreams were directly related to the other experience Sarah had during her second vacation in Crete, and they were sure that the island itself must have had something to do with it, since they had not had such experiences in Gran Canaria or in other countries. Almost always some mythical creature played a role in the dreams. Sometimes a centaur appeared in them, sometimes a siren who tried to become master of the dreamer's mind with her song. But at least Sarah's dreams were usually about something legendary and mysterious. In them, she either traveled into the past or into the future, while Sam's dreams were more timeless. One thing they had in common, however, was the feeling of being paralyzed during the dream. Her mind was probably awake, but no longer had any influence on her body. So now she lay motionless on the couch while her mind wandered through the time of the Minoan Empire. It was almost as if she was in a time machine, visiting places in bygone eras or reliving scenarios in a distant future. At first, she hardly ever managed to wake up from the dream, but always woke up from sheer exhaustion. As soon as she made the decision to wake up during a scene, the paternoster would break through another level, which at that moment actually looked like the floor of a house, and take her to the next reality, announcing the continuation of the dream rather than its end. Only with time did she find a way to end this dream state whenever she wanted. However, she never really understood what these dreams were all about, so at some point they both decided to just accept it and not give it any more meaning. Even though Sam had to deal with secret and mysterious cases during his time as a senior officer of a special unit of the US Army, he never talked about her experiences in Crete with a colleague, not even with his long-time colleague and friend Jack Stern. He kept in touch with him after his service ended, and Jack would have been able to understand, if not rationalize, Sam's experiences, but somehow this male friendship never really went beyond the small talk common to most guys. Maybe this verbal exchange of information could have been called heightened small talk, but that would have been the highest of feelings. Of course, every now and then they talked about small problems at work or in the family, but things that had even the slightest semblance of being of a psychological nature found no place there. That's why Sam sent his girlfriend a completely innocuous WhatsApp message from their trip to the south coast this year, as he sat with Sarah on the balcony of their apartment the following evening. It was a short video clip he had shot on the ridge, showing his friend a beautiful panoramic view of the sea and the mountains beyond. Of course, Sarah, Sam's undisputed favorite subject, was in it. She smiled at the camera and shouted her love to Jack. Otherwise, the only sounds were the wind and a billion screaming cicadas. A short time later, a voice message came back from Jack: "Hey, vacationers, enjoy the sun, the sea and the Greek wine. See you soon."

DAY 2: CRETE

Sam stood in the shower and sang Mungo Jerry's song from the 70s loudly: "In the summertime, when the weather is fine," while Sarah sat on the balcony in the sun, letting her still-wet hair dry. It was only 8:30 in the morning, but the sun was already beating down like it didn't even do at noon in Germany. But it was a pleasant, dry heat and therefore well tolerated by her. Sarah got a tan very quickly and although her skin had already taken on some color on the first day, she didn't want to overdo it and went back into the apartment after a few minutes. As she did so, she saw a message from Jack light up on Sam's cell phone. Just as she was about to yell, "Jack sent you another text," Sam came out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. "It can wait, Mrs. Kramer," he said with a wink, dropping the towel again, "we're on vacation, aren't we?" Sarah loved his spontaneous nature and smiled at him as she playfully licked her lips and breathed, "Hmm, not bad, I see." And somehow that was true. Sam was 58 and Sarah 55, but both were still in good physical shape. In Sam's case, it was probably due to decades of karate training, and in Sarah's case, it was due to her good diet and meticulous personal hygiene that they didn't show their true age. Sam's graying hair, which was already in its thirties, showed that he was getting on in years, of course, but his bright eyes and dynamic demeanor made it difficult for strangers to judge him correctly. Sarah was often mistaken for thirty-five, forty-five at the most, which was why Sam would sometimes jokingly remark, "They must all be thinking, "What's the old bag doing with that young thing by his side?" But what he said in jest, he sometimes really thought. To him, Sarah was the most beautiful woman in the world. He appreciated that she was his age and had the same memories of the times of his generation, while still looking attractive and young. A former acquaintance of Sam's married a 25-year-old at the age of 50, and during a barbecue and after drinking countless beers, complained to him at length: "Imagine, Sam, we were in bed the other night and I asked her if she liked the Beatles' song "Yesterday". And she asked, wide-eyed, "Who are the Beatles?" Then I suddenly felt very lonely and wished with all my heart that I had never divorced Sonja. Now, after their morning interlude, Sam and Sarah were lying side by side on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "What do you want to do today?" he asked after his breathing had calmed down a bit. "Hmm, maybe the beach?" Sarah replied shortly. "The beach is good," Sam replied, swinging out of bed and grabbing his bathing suit from the dresser. A few minutes later they left the apartment and got into the Panda, which was already sweltering. When they reached the beach after a ten-minute drive, the sea lay calm and sparkling before them. Only a light surf rolled crackling over the hot sand and then retreated foaming to conquer more land with the next wave. Sam adjusted Sarah's deck chair, "so you have the best position for the sun," he winked. She smiled because he always wanted to please her and she appreciated that. He, on the other hand, quickly threw his towel on the deck chair and ran down to the sea. The water was warm, but every now and then a cold current would come, but then it almost hurt, it was so icy. As he got used to the ever-changing water temperature, he stood in the waist-high water and looked toward the horizon, where the bright blue of the sky met the dark blue of the sea. "There are so many shades of blue just here," he called to Sarah, who probably didn't understand what he was saying because of the distance, but gave him a friendly wave anyway. Then he threw himself forward into the water and dove along the bottom with his eyes open, even though he couldn't see anything without his goggles. But he didn't care at that moment, he had missed the salt water and now he wanted to absorb all the positive emotions he associated with it as quickly as possible in just a few seconds. When he had had enough, he threw himself onto his beach chair, sighed happily, and said to Sarah, "Isn't it beautiful, my darling? When I'm here, I always realize how little I really need to live. The day at the beach was coming to an end. Sam jumped into the water every few minutes to cool off, and Sarah indulged her passion for reading. It was not until they returned to the hotel that evening that Sam realized he had left his cell phone in his room. Looking at the screen, he saw that Jack had sent him five messages and tried to call him six times. The first WhatsApp message said, "Call me sometime, please. The second was similar: "Call me sometime about your vacation video, please. The third was a bit more indignant: "Damn it, get back to me." In the fourth, Jack wrote: "Where the hell are you? What's that noise in the background?" The fifth and final message sounded almost desperate: "Please get back to me. This is really important." "I'm going to call Jack. He's totally freaked out. Will you take a shower first?" Before Sarah could answer, he dialed Jack's number. After the first ring, his friend picked up and groaned, "Finally, it's about time." "I've only been gone two days and you can't stand being without me. What's wrong with you?" Jack, however, did not address Sam's irony, but responded with a counter question, "What the hell is that noise in the background?" "What are you talking about?" "Well, the movie you sent me." Sam scratched his head, wondering what sound his friend was referring to, "I don't know, maybe the wind or the cicadas? You mean the chirping?" "Wow, that doesn't really sound like chirping to me," Jack replied, unaware that Sam had used the same expression when he had arrived at the hotel with Sarah. "Those are my words. What makes you think that and why are you so upset?" Then there was a long silence, so long that Sam began to fear that the conversation had been interrupted, "Jack, are you still there?" Again there was silence until Jack finally replied, "Sam, you know I used to be involved in deciphering military codes and my hearing is very well trained as a result, right?" Without waiting for Sam's answer, he continued, "When I watched the movie yesterday, I didn't notice anything at first, at least not right away.

But soon after, the background noise started to play in my head like a catchy tune, over and over again. There was a certain rhythm to it, like Morse code. I played the movie again and tried to pick out something, but I just couldn't. It didn't give me any peace, so last night I sat down at my computer and filtered out the sound from all the other ambient noise, hoping to get more clarity." Then Jack fell silent again and Sam bridged the gap in the conversation, "What are you trying to tell me? What's so special about the screeching?" "You won't believe it, the cicadas are sending a code." Now Sam was silent for a moment. Sarah came out of the bathroom and looked at her husband who was standing there with his eyes wide open and his cell phone to his ear as if he had just seen a ghost. "Are you okay, Sam?" she asked him, taking a step toward him. Then suddenly he spoke again, as if he had woken up from a dream, without realizing that Sarah had addressed him: "What are you saying, Jack? The cicadas...?" "Yes, Sam. That sound sounded familiar to me, although it took a while for it to sink in. Then I slowed the sound down and my memory came back. Then I slowed it down even more and ...". Again he was silent and Sam stood open-mouthed until he spoke again, "Are you talking about a military code? Are you saying that the cicadas are not really insects, but warriors? That seems a bit far-fetched, doesn't it?"

"I'm not talking about a military code, Samuel, just a code," Jack replied, clearly hurt by his friend's doubtful tone. "What exactly is behind it, I can't say yet, but I promise you I'll find out. I'll send you my edited sound file later, then you'll understand what I mean. In the slowed down version, you don't hear the chirping anymore, just a sequence of sounds, a melody that never repeats, at least not in this short clip. You see, Sam, this is a message. The cicadas are clearly trying to tell us something.“

NOAH PART 1

APRIL 30, 1789

"If you will follow me, Mr. President," a man with a deep voice said to George Washington, who had just walked back into the building from the balcony of Federal Hall to the thunderous applause of his people after his inaugural address. The man with the almost inhuman voice was taller than average and wore a dark brown monk's robe with a hood that hid his face. Washington probably did not understand what the unknown man wanted, but he followed him anyway, still intoxicated by his recent election victory. He had just become the first President of the United States of America and was at the beginning of his powerful career. As he followed the monk into one of the rooms on the first floor, he met more men in brown robes. He counted thirteen in all, and they were all considerably taller than he was. They were hulking figures, at least six feet tall. They stood in a circle, and in their midst was a massive wooden table and chair. On the table was a brown leather portfolio embossed with a golden hexagram. Next to it was an inkwell with a quill. "Please be seated," said the monk with whom he had entered the room a few seconds before, and the other twelve men opened the circle and showed the president the way inside. George Washington looked around questioningly at the faces of the strangers who had now removed their hoods. His eyes were still shining from the victory speech he had just delivered. But the glow was gradually giving way to an expression of utter cluelessness. Try as he might, he could not find the slightest explanation for this holy encounter. His gaze searched the eyes of the silent men for answers, but instead more questions arose, for all of them had emerald green eyes that seemed very unnatural. How could that be? At that moment, his companion took a step towards him and asked him to sit down and listen. With a blank expression on his face, Washington complied with the stranger's request and waited for an explanation of this dubious situation. Then the monk spoke, his voice sounding even deeper now, as if it came directly from his belly. His face was expressionless, and there was not a single hair on his entire head, neither beard, eyebrows, nor eyelashes. His skin was dull and covered his face with a silky sheen as if it were covered with powder. "Mr. President, as a good Christian, you know what the Bible says. But you do not know what the most famous book in the world is really about." Washington looked at the monk with narrowed eyes and replied, "What is that? What is your wish?" But without answering the president's question, the monk continued, "They call me Noah. My name is familiar to you, of course, but my true purpose has remained hidden from you until now. And these are my faithful companions, whose names you also know. Nevertheless, I will introduce them to you once again. The monk paused and pointed to one of his brothers with an outstretched hand. "This is Peter." Peter took a step forward and bowed gracefully to the president. Then he rejoined the circle and Noah continued, "This is Matthew. But before Matthew could move, Washington jumped up with his head held high and roared angrily, "Are you out of your mind? Don't you know who you're dealing with? What kind of farce is this you're running?" He made a move for the door, but Noah grabbed him by the shoulder with his strong right hand and shoved him back into the chair. Washington immediately sensed that he was far inferior to the monk in strength, so he chose to obey. "You listen to me now, without further interference, do you understand?" growled Noah in a deep, angry bass. Washington nodded, but you could tell he was snubbed. How dare a stranger talk to him like that, the first president of the United States? But he realized that he would not get his way and remembered to keep silent forever. "Mr. Washington, may I continue?" Washington nodded, though he did not like the stranger's informal address. Noah continued unperturbed with the introduction of the monks, calling out all twelve names of the apostles in turn, and each one bowed respectfully to the president. Apparently this twelvefold deference soothed Washington's troubled mind, for he became more and more at ease. Soon he was sitting relaxed in his chair, listening intently. "We are older than time and have been with the human species since the dawn of creation. We create what man considers his reality. But see for yourself and you will understand what we are all about." Noah raised his right hand and a threedimensional image of the Earth formed in space, a hologram about six feet in diameter. The projection seemed to come from the eyes of the monks. It was as if they were being illuminated from within by a candle. The radiant light caused the emerald green of their eyes to change from bright yellow to dark brown, and a white cone of light appeared, in whose glow a threedimensional image of the Earth circled. Washington could not believe his eyes and rubbed the palms of his hands over his face. But the image before his eyes remained unchanged. The Earth rotated slowly in front of him, as if looking down on him from outer space. As he reached out in disbelief, he felt his fingers pierce the atmosphere. He withdrew his hand involuntarily, apparently startled by how real the touch felt. With wide questioning eyes, he looked at Noah, who at that moment took a step toward the Earth and touched it in a way that made Washington look even more stunned. Noah placed the fingers of his right hand on his thumb, then touched the globe with his fingertips and immediately pulled his fingers apart. The surface of the earth miraculously moved closer. Noah repeated this motion a few more times until all the details became visible. Washington sat open-mouthed in his chair and couldn't get a word out, even though he had an infinite number of questions on his mind. Noah then caressed the planet with the palm of his hand, turning it back and forth, up and down, until he repeated the gesture with his fingers. As he did so, the surface came into focus even more clearly. "Here we are, right now, you see?" And indeed, Federal Hall was visible from above in astonishing detail, and the crowd outside its entrance was still cheering. "Clearly magic," Washington thought. Then Noah pushed and rolled the earth again until he pointed again, "And this is the White House in Washington in 2018, the future official residence of successive presidents. Right now, Donald Trump is in office. He will be elected the 45th President of the United States of America on January 20, 2017." Washington turned pale and the expression in his eyes became even emptier. The monk was just talking about an event that would happen in the distant future. How could this be? The only thing that comforted him at that moment was the fact that America would make it to 2018, possibly through his intervention as a founding member of the United States. He realized with pride that one day his name would be in the history books. This was a balm to his stressed mind and brought him back to reality. Just as he emerged from his mind, Noah spun the Earth once more and spoke, "Here we see the sixteenth president, Abraham Lincoln, shot during a theatrical performance on the evening of April 15, 1865, by an actor we had previously hired to do the killing." Again thoughts flashed through Washington's mind, "Now he's talking about a future event in the past tense. Who the hell are these people? And what gives them the right to murder righteous men?" Meanwhile, Noah continued, "The public, of course, was kept in the dark about the real reasons why the people mourned the man who had freed the slaves and thus united the races. But they could not have imagined what would have happened if we had not removed Lincoln. Noah noted the look of terror on Washington's face when he heard of the assassination of one of his successors. Thus, he added, "If Lincoln had lived, he would have decided on his own to include the black man, Lester Glover, in his cabinet, which would have encouraged his colored supporters to revolt forever against the white supremacists. This, in turn, would have resulted in a bloodbath of epochal proportions that would have wiped out all previous achievements in uniting the white and black populations. Many future generations would have suffered and humanity would have been plunged into a cruel war of the races. Although Lincoln was a great and peaceful president, he was also a very stubborn man who defied us again and again out of sheer spite. His pride simply would not allow him to acknowledge our function and purpose. Therefore, we had no choice but to eliminate him for the good of all. Once again, Noah performed a few magical movements with his hand, effectively setting the stage for Earth. Within seconds, they traveled through the centuries, from one place to another, from one glorious invention of man to the next. On a screen they saw Neil Armstrong as he became the first of his species to descend the steps of the lunar module and set foot on the surface of the Earth's satellite. They saw mushroom clouds, rockets, warships, and cruise ships. Then Noah's index finger suddenly came to rest on a point and his expression became very serious: "And here you see the Earth in the year 2121, or what is left of it. What could be seen was a brown ball with only a few blue areas. Apparently, most of the oceans had dried up. George Washington watched intently as the events unfolded before his eyes, experiencing a range of emotions he had never felt before. From sadness to pride, from shame to anger, there was a little bit of everything. But there was also a very special flame that began to burn within him, and it would soon end in a great fire. It was stronger than anything he had felt so far on this trip, it was a desire for care and responsibility. He, the first President of the United States of America, suddenly felt responsible not only for his own people, but for his entire home planet. Of course, he could not have known that the final scenario of the dying Earth was not true, but merely projected by Noah to win Washington to his cause. The President looked into Noah's eyes and asked in a trembling voice, "Why are you showing me all this?" Noah looked back at the President with clear emerald eyes, "The fate of the Earth is not fixed, but the plan we have for it must be followed. Why we are showing you everything is easy to answer: Because we need you. You, as the powerful head of a government, are at the beginning of a culture that will be very difficult to control. As you have seen, world affairs are extremely complex, and one person will never be able to oversee all the consequences of his actions and decisions. But we," he gestured to the other monks, "are capable of doing so. But we also know that powerful people like to abuse their power for their own ends, to the detriment of everyone else. That is why all the Regents of all the lands work under our supervision. But this cooperation is secret, and no one must ever know about it. Now Noah opened the leather portfolio on the table. "Here is a contract that you will now sign, just as all your successors have done. Noah noticed at that moment that Washington found it difficult to talk about future things as if they had already happened, so he quickly added, "Just as all their successors will do." As Washington nodded his head to explain his understanding, Noah continued, "It says that if you disregard secrecy and make decisions without our approval, you will pay with your life. Also, you will elevate people chosen by us to positions where they can elicit the maximum results for adherence to our plan." Washington stared into space for a few seconds. He had just been elected president and already he was going to share his power and be reduced to a vicarious agent. He didn't really like that. But then he thought of the complexity of the whole thing and the assassination of his renegade successors and picked up the pen, dipped it briefly in the inkwell and signed the agreement, the title of which was -The Presidential Act-.

FEW MONTHS AGO

In a cool vault deep below the surface of the earth, the Twelve Apostles were now seated around a large oval table upon which stood countless candles. Their flickering light reflected off the ceiling and walls, enveloping the room in a mystical veil. On closer inspection, however, one could see that there were not innumerable candles at all, but exactly 144, forming a hexagram when viewed from above. The dark brown robes of the monks and the wide hoods gave their appearance something dark and demonic, but at the same time something pure and holy. A deep humming emanated from within the earth, mixing with the prayer-like murmuring of the monks, creating a vibration that caused all matter to gently vibrate. It was a magical and powerful place, unlike anything earthly. The vibrations suddenly subsided as Noah stood up, pulled the hood over his back, and silently looked around. He folded his arms across his chest, his hands disappearing into the sleeves of his robe. He stood at the head of the table and looked at the empty chair on the opposite side as his large green eyes began to glow amber again. Then the other monks put their hoods back on their necks and looked up at him as their eyes also began to glow. However, the color of their eyes did not change; they remained emerald green, and they all had dark brown hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows interspersed with gray strands. Even though they were as tall as Noah, it made them look more human overall. After a few seconds of reverent silence, his powerful voice filled the vault, "Brothers," he pointed his chin at the empty chair, "as you know, our brother, Simon Peter, has gone rogue and wants to take the fate of the world into his own hands. However, his intentions conflict with our plan, so we must stop him before he causes irreparable damage. I have learned that he has recently obtained a Genesis unit and has become a serious threat to us. I don't need to tell you what he can destroy with it. Ask your helpers to stop him. Now the eleven monks stood up, put their right hands on their chests, and answered in unison: "Our plan is our being.

1982

"You are Lieutenant Samuel Kramer?" "Yes, sir, Colonel, sir." "Well, come in," Colonel Nowak said as he opened the front door wide and let the visitor pass. At the same time, he scanned the street with a suspicious eye for unwelcome strangers. Then the two uniformed men stood in the narrow hallway of the small single-family house in the middle of the idyllic Hamburg suburbs. There was nothing on the outside of the nondescript house to indicate that it was a military base. Sam Kramer was puzzled in more ways than one. On the one hand, it seemed odd that he had to travel so far to pick up something for his superior officer that surely could have been sent by mail, and on the other hand, he was surprised that the destination of his trip was so civilian in nature. But here he was, in an obviously secret facility almost 600 kilometers away from his duty station in Heidelberg. After securing the front door with several deadbolts, the colonel directed his visitor to the basement. The stairs to the basement were narrow and steep, in keeping with the rest of the building's design. Only two meters from the bottom step they came to another door, but it was locked. The Colonel pressed a button next to the door frame and it buzzed for a moment and the door burst open. More stairs followed. This time it was a very long and wide staircase. Fluorescent tubes hung from the ceiling, casting a bright, slightly flickering light. Sam looked around, impressed, for the dimensions of this staircase were in stark contrast to the previous one. By his estimation, they must already be well outside the property line. Even though his curiosity was piqued, his military training expressly forbade him to ask questions or make any comments. After countless steps, they were once again in front of a very large, massive steel gate. Again, the Colonel had to ring the bell before the latch opened with a loud click. Then the gate was pushed open by three hydraulic arms and the Second Lieutenant's jaw dropped to his chest in surprise. He couldn't believe his eyes and rubbed the back of his hand over his closed eyelids to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he opened his eyelids again, everything was as it had been before, and he swallowed hard a few times to digest this tremendous impression. They were standing in a huge vault. From his current position, he could not see the other end of the room. To Sam, the room seemed as big as a football field. There were at least a hundred, if not two hundred, screens on green metal consoles, and behind each screen sat a man with gray headphones, typing away at his keyboard. None of them paid any attention to the two visitors. The room was filled with the clicking of hundreds of keyboards and the excited voices of the operators. Sam remembered seeing something like this once before, in 1969, when he and his father watched the moon landing on television. There, at Cape Canaveral, NASA employees also sat in front of monitors like this one, following every movement of the rocket on the radar and also watching the astronauts in the space capsule. "Madness!" flashed through his mind. The colonel noticed the soldier's astonishment and said gruffly, "Follow me. They crossed the huge vault and finally reached the colonel's office in the far corner. "Restricted Area - No Entry" was written in bold letters on the door. On the wall behind the desk hung countless portraits, each framed in heavy gold. Upon closer inspection, Sam counted forty pictures. Obviously, these were the presidents of the United States, for he immediately recognized at least eight of them. Among them were Abraham Lincoln, Woodrow Wilson, Franklin D. Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, Dwight D. Eisenhower and, of course, the current head of state, Ronald Reagan. Next to the colonel's heavy mahogany desk, the American flag fluttered on a brass pole in the breeze of a table fan. Colonel Nowak walked purposefully to the portrait of Lincoln, removed it from the wall, and uncovered a built-in safe. He pulled a key from his uniform jacket and inserted it into the lock on the vault door, turning a dial at the same time. Sam counted quietly, "Three times left, two times right, four times left, and one more time right. Then the door opened and the Colonel pulled out a brown envelope marked:

"TOP SECRET. FOR GENERAL BAXTER'S EYES ONLY."

Colonel Nowak then escorted the Second Lieutenant back to the front door, "You will deliver this envelope to General Baxter personally. Do not give it to anyone but the General, is that clear?" "Yes sir, Colonel, sir," Sam saluted in the usual manner. Then he turned and walked to his jeep.

It was late afternoon and he had a good seven hours of driving ahead of him, so he took a short nap when he reached the first highway rest stop. Arriving at the small military airport near the headquarters in Heidelberg at sunrise the next morning, he went through the usual security checks and then made his way purposefully to the air traffic control building. Inside, the general would be waiting for him, said the guard at the entrance. "He must be an early riser," Sam thought to himself, and indeed the highest ranking officer of the base was already waiting impatiently in front of the building for his messenger with the obviously explosive goods. "Follow me," the general said, but without the usual military salute. His tone and manners were more those of a civilian than a highly decorated general. To Sam's surprise, they did not enter the main building, but a hangar across the street, where two Apache helicopters and a Learjet were parked. On one side of the hangar was a floor hatch, which seemed to be the destination of their walk, for the General stopped abruptly and took the envelope from Sam's hand. "Wait here," Baxter said, pulling up the hatch and descending the metal stairs below. Sam sat down in the chair next to the hatch and waited for his superior.

Then he heard voices coming up from the basement. One of them clearly belonged to Baxter; it was melodic and unmistakable because of a strong southern accent. Sam wasn't sure of the other voice. It sounded more British than American, which could be, since there were Englishmen stationed in Germany. Sam was amazed that he could clearly hear almost every word of this apparently very confidential conversation, but since the sheet metal walls and metal staircase of the hangar acted like a giant sound box, there was no way around it. He had to smile involuntarily, because the men were talking about top-secret matters, apparently unaware that the hangar had the sound quality of an amphitheater. The voice of the supposed Englishman seemed agitated. He demanded immediate clarification regarding a secret research project being conducted on behalf of the U.S. government and under Baxter's direction. It involved mind control and the verification of hereditary damage caused to certain segments of the population by influencing their living space. Sam didn't really understand any of this, but he tried to remember as much of this strange conversation as he could. The Englishman said that the experiment had begun in the mid-1930s, and that in the meantime, psychological changes had begun to appear in the inhabitants of the test regions. Eventually, as expected, they would end up in physical mutations if the plan worked. He now wanted to know from General Baxter exactly where the latest records on this had gone. The message he had just received obviously showed him that his suspicions were correct. Someone was playing a false game here, withholding test results or perhaps even trying to profit from them.

"I want an answer from you by 10:00 tomorrow as to who that someone is. Have I made myself clear?" the Englishman said, his voice now so low that the tin walls of the hangar vibrated slightly. "If you fail to do so, there will be consequences for you. Obviously there is a leak in your department. Find the mole and close his lair. Do you understand?" Then General Baxter stomped up the steel stairs. His head held high, he walked up to Sam, who stood up and adjusted his uniform. Sam wondered who had the strength to attack a highly decorated general like that. "Who was that Englishman?" he thought, looking questioningly into the eyes of the general, whose voice was now audibly nervous and accompanied by a tremor. "Kramer, you will report to me tomorrow morning at 9:00. From now on you are under my personal command." Without listening to Sam's "Yes sir, General, sir," Baxter walked over to the tower, threw open the door with a huff, and disappeared inside.

As Sam sat back in his jeep, fragments of the conversation he had overheard still echoed in his mind. "What was the trial they were talking about? And who was that strange man?" Little did he know that this case would haunt him for many years to come.

DAY 2: CRETE

"What was your conversation about?" Sarah wanted to know, but Sam didn't feel like repeating the entire phone conversation with Jack to her right now. "I'm going to take a shower first and tell you later, okay?" Then he disappeared. This time Sarah did not hear any singing coming from the bathroom, not even the buzzing of the electric razor. A few minutes later he was standing next to her again, dressed only in his underpants, "It's nice that the balcony is on the east side. We couldn't stand it here in the evening sun. Would you like a glass of red wine or perhaps a cold Mythos beer?" he asked Sarah. She opted for the beer and Sam joined her in her choice. He took two cans from the fridge, opened them with a loud hiss and handed one to Sarah: "Yamas. "Yamas." They both took a sip before Sarah urged, "Now come on, what did Jack say?" Sam put the beer can down a second time before looking at his wife and answering, "He says he detected a code in the cicadas' calls, maybe a message." "What, is he sure about that?" "Well, as you know, he's an expert at deciphering codes, or at least he used to be. I don't remember him ever being wrong." Sam had just finished his sentence when his phone vibrated again. It was the audio file Jack had promised. "Jack just sent me a slowed down version of the original recording. Are you ready to listen?" When she nodded, he played the file. What they heard actually sounded nothing like what they had recorded during the day. It sounded like a mechanical sound, like the scraping of metal across a granite block, perhaps, but not at all like the call of a living creature. Then came another file, with a notice that it was another slowed-down version. After Sam pressed the start button on this one as well, an icy shiver ran down both of their spines. If the chirping of the cicadas in the original sound had evoked a campfire mood in them, this version triggered an inexplicable fear in them. What they were hearing sounded completely artificial, like the voices of alien beings in a B-movie. "That sounds awful," Sarah said, and Sam looked down at his phone in disgust before playing the sequence again. He tried to pull up similar sounds in his memory, but found nothing that matched it. Wordlessly, they sat in their chairs for several minutes, staring at Sam's smartphone, the bearer of this enigmatic message.

Suddenly, the phone's ringing melody of the French classic "La Mer" by Charles Trenet made both of them jump. It was Jack again, "Yeah," Sam greeted his friend with a dry throat that even the Mythos beer couldn't change. "Sam, you need to take more pictures.

Go to different places and remember exactly where you took the shot, okay?" "Sure, I can do that," he replied as if in a trance, "I just wonder why? Cicadas are cicadas, right?" "Sure, I just have a hunch. The sequence of characters reminds me of a code we used to use in Afghanistan. It was a code that looked different from region to region and practically worked like a navigation system to help our people find their way in the mountains, you know? The code worked like a magnetic field to guide them. I could be way off with my guess, but I just want to check it out to be sure, okay?" "All right, I understand. We'll leave for the West Coast tomorrow. I'll send you the footage in the evening when we can log on to the hotel's Wi-Fi router." "Very well. I look forward to seeing what we find." "You're not going to let this go to waste, are you?" Sam insisted. "Don't worry old friend, this stays between us," Jack replied and hung up.

"What do you think, should we tell him about what happened back then? Maybe there is a connection?" Sarah thought for a moment before answering, "We will tell him if it is indeed a code, agreed?" "Yes, we will."

2010 EGYPT, NEAR GIZA

It was a pitch-black new moon night, so the stars above the desert were especially bright. The broad band of the Milky Way lay heavily overhead, and the stark contrast with the pitch-black night sky gave the observer the feeling of being right in the middle of it all. Countless shooting stars shot through the atmosphere and looked like New Year's Eve fireworks. Since it was absolutely silent, one had the impression that one could actually hear them hissing as they whizzed by on the horizon with red-yellow tails.