MOBIUS INSIGHT ©MOBIUS INSIGHT
forewordprologuechap.1chap.2chap.3chap.4chap.5chap.6chap.7chap.8chap.9epilogueafterword
EntrybackgroundBibleDelphiGodNew world order

By Allen D. Furford

CHAPTER 1


The Oval room in the White House always surprised first time visitors with it's size, being much smaller than the man on the street thought it would be. The size of the room had nothing to do with the power that emanated from it.

The year was an election year and the campaign trail had left it's mark on the president sitting behind the desk. Domestic and world situations were so bad the polls had flatly predicted he had a snowball's chance in hell of being reelected. He wondered if Harry Truman had been as worried. The power brokers who had placed him in office no longer supported him, afraid of what he would do to them in his second term. They were correct in their analysis.

His problems boiled down to political perks and party hacks, with the ultra-conservatives snipping away at his policies, impeding his every move. These troubled areas were helped along by the intelligence community which was a total government in itself, and deficit spending which was fueling the fire. It was compromise, compromise, compromise until his own chosen people had virtually disappeared an he was rapidly becoming merely a figurehead.

The only advice he had gotten lately from his bought-and-paid-for cabinet was to take acting lessons and smile like hell, something that worked for Ronny...

The collapse of the far left had given the far right unlimited license on a world basis to institute their programs and the ultra-rich were definitely running the show. These people had their own factions, which made the situation even more complicated.

The fact man had a 6000 year record of government and nothing had changed, didn't ease his mind even a little bit. Other things had been going on, and it had to do with the coming of the millennium. It was a problem most of his predecessors did not have to face. The people were restless.

A new movement was afoot and though the right called it the left, it really was not the "left" as it had been known thirty years before. Labor was trying to organize unions on a world basis now, with nationalism breaking down all around them and socialism in tatters. The far right which controlled the media and the military throughout the world were fighting back with every means they thought necessary to keep their position.

What had been coined as a "New World Order" was in reality a new world dictatorship, or rapidly becoming one, an economic dictatorship. Historically this had happened before and the results were disastrous revolutions or other terrible consequences for the government or governments involved.

Europe finally had organized into its own version of the United States after the last three nationalistic hold outs had given in from the shear economic pressure brought to bear by the rest of the continent. The new European president was a brilliant rising star that had come out of nowhere, and the White house opinion was that he could not be trusted. The largest percentage of the rest of the world felt the same way. The secrecy surrounding the man was impenetrable...

This is what the president faced and until a few hours before, he could see no way out. Now at least there was a glimmer, albeit a small one, of hope. That hope was pacing the floor in a small room six levels below him and it was time to meet it. He looked at some notes his niece had supplied him with and frowned. With all the information he had at his disposal, the media seemed to be more informed than he was. Sometimes the details of the office just plainly got buried by shear volume of information.


The room below was being monitored by two men, one short and heavy set, the other tall and thin. They were of no consequence to the big players, merely observer civil servants putting their time in.
There also was another observer, and it lived in total darkness, a matrix of light and electrons. It had no true feelings on any subject, but it was learning... and it was the world's most powerful computer. It was not part of the White House equipment nor any other world wide known Internet type network. Intelligence agencies world wide would have killed to obtain it if they suspected it existed at all, which they didn't.
The subject they all were watching through the surveillance system was pacing the room like an angry panther. At two inches over six feet tall and 190 pounds, his movements betrayed his anxiety as he ran his hand through his curly black hair, hair that was already more than touched with silver at the temples.

The short man grunted as he unwrapped a peanut butter sandwich and looked back up at the monitor. "Rugged looking character, isn't he?"

"He's been around," his partner replied."I heard the report from them medical team that body searched him. He has been through an explosion of some sort and has scars all over his body. They say he should have been dead."

They watched as the man looked pointedly at the section of wall that was the video pickup, his gray/blue eyes boring into the monitor in the other room.

"Yeah, if he had a tail it would be twitching like a cat now", the shorter man stated as he looked his meal over carefully and then took a bite out of it. At that moment the monitor went blank.

The tall guard looked at his shorter companion and shrugging his shoulders slightly, he switched to another sensor. The man was back on the monitor.

"He is no dummy, either. I wonder how much chewing gum he has left?" The guard took another bite and mumbled, "Just how many packs did we replace? Four or five?"

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full? I am glad we don't have to clean the sensors..."


Entering the room six floors below his office, the president sat down at the desk and looked up at the dark haired man standing before him. It was an interruption of his night schedule, compliments of his niece, a reporter with no small amount of clout. He looked up and gave the man his most reassuring smile. It just didn't come out quite right. He started over...

"You do not look like the type of man who normally asks for help", he stated with a small tired smile. "Sit down and get comfortable for the few minutes we have together. I wish it could be longer, but under the circumstances..."

"I quite understand, Mr. President. Is this room secure? ...Really Secure?"

" The only one that I know of, Mr. Horn. My position makes it difficult to find true privacy and you must remember you did not arrive here through regular channels. It makes my goon squad somewhat nervous."

"It works both ways. The Secret Service and the medical team is very thorough," Horn flatly stated. "I loved the body search right down to the possibility of poisoned finger nails and hollow teeth. They even cat scanned me for an internal bomb and replaced my chewing gum."

"I am sorry for the inconvenience, however I think is has something to do with eight attempts on my life this term. We keep things like that as quiet as we can. To save time, perhaps you should give me a quick synopsis. I only know what you told my niece and that was not very much. To be quite frank with you it is not a very creditable story, and coming from her, as she has a tendency to over state things from time to time, well..."

Miles Horn frowned slightly at the comment. That was not the impression he had of Lisa Cranston. Highly opinionated and extremely accurate, she was very respected as an investigative reporter. This could create problems in the future, he thought. At least the woman had gotten him into the White House, and if he couldn't trust this man, whom could he trust? The safeguards were in place in any event. Miles made his decision.

"This is what I know and what happened in brief, sir...In the beginning God created the Heavens and the Earth..."

Six minutes later the President of the United States picked up his phone and canceled his last appointment for the day. It was going to be another all night session. This man did not seem insane, but none of the others had been either if he could trust the historical notes on the subject. There seemed to be an escalating pattern involved, he mentally denoted, as he glanced down at a new file before him. It never failed. As soon as he could get an hour or two off, something like this happened. "...and your part in this, Mr.Horn?"

"As for my part, Mr.President, it started with a friend of mine..."


Doc Goldstein carefully maneuvered his thirty foot cabin cruiser into it's slip and cut the engines as the dock attendant lashed the moorings to the cleats. It was the perfect boating end to a beautiful April day on Puget Sound, the last on the sound for the surgeon until September. Glancing at his watch, he grunted in satisfaction at the observed time. It was still early in the day and he had beaten the predicted afternoon wind. Doc picked up a pen and finished the daily entry in his logbook.

He looked at his travel case, wondering if he had forgotten to pack something and sighed. In two days he would be in Athens and he just knew he would forget some little thing that he would need, something that would become an irritant to him before his forthcoming adventure was over.

The man on the dock watched the tall lanky man climb off the boat, his thinning brown hair bare without the typical yachting cap that Doc refused to wear. He noted that the surgeons size thirteen sneakers looked like skis and the man's nose would have done an eagle justice. When he reported in to headquarters, the surreptitious photos he took would verify he had been on the job.

Handing Doc back his travel case, he had to look up to find the tall man's brown eyes, waiting for any other last minute instructions which were not forth coming. The camera hidden in his coveralls silently took two more close-ups. It would be up to the others on the team from this point on.

Leaving his boat keys with the new marina attendant as Doc left the mooring facility, the surgeon was startled by a voice from behind him in the parking lot. He turned his head as he climbed into his classic 1953 Corvette.

"That piece of junk still causing traffic accidents, Doc?"

Turning around he grinned at the character that flashed into view."Miles! I thought you were still north..."

Miles Horn climbed out of his pickup truck and stretched his lanky frame. "Just got back, chum. No more Alaska until October for me. I'm getting a little old for the constant pounding."

"That is what you have been saying for the last three years." Doc appraised the chief engineer and thought to himself about the last surgery he had performed on the man. Miles was lucky to be alive. The engine base explosion he had lived through had sent shrapnel all through him. The EMT people had lost him once from the waterfront to the hospital, and they lost him again on the operating table...

Miles looked peaked and fish belly white from lack of sun, all from being buried in the bowels of a ship, breathing unhealthy fumes while dieting on coffee and cigarettes. It showed...

"Didn't quit smoking, I see."

Miles looked down at the butt burning in his hand, dropped it and crushed it out."Your timely, Doc. This is the first pack I have purchased in five months."

"That's because you get them free as part of your contact, Miles. I don't forget the little details..."

"I really don't need them," Miles stated as he flipped the still full pack into the ash can next to the vehicles. "If you have time, walk across the street to my place this afternoon and we can swap lies while sipping on some vitamin C."

Doc chuckled. "In the old days it would have been beer for both of us."

"Yeah....I took the "cure" and you got religion. We really are a pair to draw to. I received your letter in Dutch Harbor and enjoyed all the news. When are you heading to the Aegean?"

"In a couple of days. They are still looking for a chief engineer for the ship, you know. You could donate your time..."

"I don't work that way, Doc. I used to when I was young and dumb. I don't need another engine room, I need a vacation. To hell with stress and grease."

Doc just shook his head. "I'll see you for cranberry juice at four. Maybe we can figure out a way where you can have your cake and eat it too. I have to make some calls..."

"You do that, chum. Meanwhile there is a lady I am supposed to meet. We parted in some sweet sorrow."

Miles watched the Corvette pull out into traffic and then walked over to the trash can and retrieved his smokes. He saw the marina attendant watching him, and Miles frowned. He suddenly had that funny feeling of being under observation. Stress, he thought. It's killing me. Then he lit up and began to cough. Doc doesn't look that hot either, the engineer reflected. He dropped the butt and threw the pack back into the garbage. To hell with it, I'll chew gum...


As Miles spun his tale to the president, not far from Washington D.C. there was another meeting taking place. The men attending looked nervously at the speaker before them, a tall distinguished looking gentleman who in reality was no gentleman at all. He was known to them as Hesphaes Niacson. It was not his only name. Secrecy was his byword.

If one of the others in the room met him on a street somewhere, they would not recognize him. If they tried to voice print him they would have not gotten any results. On two different occasions this had been tried, as well as other high tech methods. The perpetrators had met violent ends. The rest learned from the experience. The skin disguise he wore was virtually invisible.

The others had unlimited funds, now that Escobar had been "removed". The money from drug trafficking had been "cleaned" and reinvested in such a way as to be untraceable. These men had small privately owned armies at their disposal, and the very latest high tech equipment. It was from these sources Hesphaes had received the latest report. He was merely using the men and their information for his own purposes.

His eyes bored into them as he started speaking."The last "seeker" surfaced and we will have to be patient, as the subject is under guard in the White House. The knowledge he has makes it expedient to remove him in some way from his sanctuary and return him back in some manner to the place only he can find. We will let them do that and then we will strike. In essence, let the government accomplish our purpose..."


In a remote section of the world, a computer was accessing information from all the computers and phone lines in the United States of America, seeking data about the members and possible recruits for a specific scientific archaeological expedition. That search included every piece of surveillance equipment the government had, and since the mandatory installation of fiber-optics in every F.H.A. new home by way of the phone system and television cable networks, more data was flooding in daily as families moved in. Just as the NSA monitored every phone conversation and new video input, triggered by key words and phrases, the private computer worked in the same manner.

The machine had been doing so and would continue to do so from the time of it's inception until someone cut off the power source, if that was ever to occur. It was running an old termination file that had been called up again by Tri-Omega Data Services.


Across the world and in a land that had run red with the blood of men for thousands of years, another man had sought a sanctuary.

Chiam Ben Ami, an agent of the Israeli Mossad, had been pursued from the site of the ancient city of Ur. His route was northwest up the valley formed by the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, leaving Iraq and crossing Syria toward Aleppo. The Iraqi soldiers had tried to interfere twice and paid for their attempt with their lives. He almost wished he had been captured, shuddering at the thought of what was behind him. Torture was to be expected.

He had started out with three other top notch agents and one by one they had fallen to the sniper's bullets. At least their deaths had been quick. As he sought more cover, he wondered again how their cover had been blown. Only the highest authority knew of the mission. He looked back in desperation as he sprinted for another boulder, cursing the Mossad in general and David in explicit terms. Good old Dave had gotten him in to this...

His pursuers were a mixture of mercenaries that were privately controlled, absolutely loyal to their company, and totally ruthless. There would be no mercy shown...

The computer file never changed...


Doc weaved the little car through traffic and headed toward the coast on I-5, not breathing a sigh of relief until he took the actual cut off toward Grays Harbor. There for awhile he could have positively sworn he was being followed by a white BMW and Doc intensely disliked the feeling. Odd things had been happening to him lately, he reflected, and he wondered if his imagination had become overactive due to the pressure of coming departure. He passed Black Lake and started up the hill past the Shelton cut-off.

It was only at this point that traffic thinned enough to permit him piece of mind from the fear that some idiot would crunch his valuable little piece of transportation, one that had been his grandfather's and father's before him. He glanced in the mirror once again to affirm he was alone.

Doc thought of leasing his Seattle condominium out again and shook his head. No, the money was not worth it. He didn't really need anymore for himself as he was the last of his line and the estate would go to some obscure relative on his mother's side when he passed on. The fact the dwelling had been broken into the week before was also on his mind. Nothing had been taken, but someone seemed to be looking for something, and he figured it was drugs. It was too bad they did not have one for sterility.

Medical science was still accelerating but cloning had a long way to go and sterility could not be reversed if it was inherited. Three close relationships had broken down because of this problem, consequently Doc had never married.

His first love was medicine and his break in routine was marine archaeology. In short, he was nuts about boats and the sea. He loved diving and each year he donated his services as a surgeon/doctor to accredited expeditions in the Mediterranean Sea.

Blasting by McCleary he mentally prepared himself to make the Heise road cut off and short cut to Bush Creek where his principle residence was located. Private and secluded, both Doc and Miles found the place perfect for healing shattered nerves. Doc kept looking at the bottle of pills on the seat, knowing he had to wait until the car was safely parked before allowing himself to take one. The side effects were minimal but he was not the type take any chances, especially with drugs. Keeping the precious Corvette far to the right on the narrow road, he idly wondered just how man cars were on the move worldwide at the same time...


It was hot in Tel Aviv as David parked his car and proceeded to the building for the emergency meeting with the Prime Minister and his special group of men.

They called it the "Inner Circle" and only a very few Israelis knew about it. David felt politically important for the first time in his life, not withstanding the fact he was just a small cog in a very important mechanism. It bothered him about the Moslems present, as well as two that he knew were Christians, for he had always considered his intelligence agency pro-Hebrew.

It had been stressed to him over and over during his early training that Israeli Intelligence was just that, Israeli, and his country had all religious factions internally which were supposed to be equal. Nothing was farther from the truth. After all, how many Muslims had ever been elected Prime Minister?

It was difficult for the average person in the world to understand some Hebrews were non-practicing when it came to Jewish law. In short, they could care less about religion but were loyal Israelis because the little piece of land was their country. It worked the same for the Arabs as well as the Persians and Egyptians. In one respect, the common ground was survival and that meant certain prophecy recognized by all in the room had to be changed. The Orthodox faction wanted to tear down the Dome of the Rock and rebuild the Temple in all of its ancient glory, a move that would insure the complete destruction of Israel.

They knew over a period of time everyone could co-exist, but only if the leaders would quit playing games with the respective populace by way of the religious factions, who were more than willing to use their own power bases to their own end.

David's position was unique. He was an archaeologist as well as a Mossad agent, and the group he had been working with had made some very important finds that not only shed new light on the creation of mankind, but affirmed Sumerian texts that had been categorized as myths for religious expediency.

Religion had always been the way kings and other heads of government controlled population with the least amount of bloodshed. People were not really afraid of kings and other government forms, for these things were non-lasting.

Kings, armies and governments could be destroyed by the people, unless they were convinced these items were ordained by a supreme being that could get to anyone, especially through death. The punishment for non-conformity being some form of "Hell". After all, hadn't "Kingship" been lowered from Heaven? The kings maintained it had, and well paid and cared for priests seconded the motion, so to speak.

Where had all of these concepts originated? It did not really matter to those in the room. The fact that this structure as it existed was going to miserably fail did concern them. The face of the world would change, and those controlling the world resisted change with a passion...


Miles walked from the woman's apartment in Ballard and climbed into the old pickup truck. So much for true passion, he thought. She married the first guy that came along and all in five months. Well, he knew the woman was not exactly stable... As he wheeled out into traffic, he did not notice the vehicle that purposely began to follow him, as it hung three cars in back of the truck.

Far away from the Ballard district in Seattle, a phone call was noted and recorded, then added to computer history. All world communications were monitored by the machine and certain information gleaned was red tagged for reclassification. Nothing was sacred.

Goldstein hung up the bugged phone and looked at his four remaining travel bags, full well knowing he should reduce the load to two and hating the thought of it. The rest of his gear had arrived safely in Athens and was stored at a friend's house until he retrieved it. Other than reducing what he was to carry on the over seas flight with him, he was ready. The expedition, however, was not.

The ship needed an engineer and the average chief just was not the proper person for the job. The running of the vessel, as small as it was, could be taken care of by the two assistant engineers on a day to day basis. Coordinating the electronic systems with the other techs and their associated high power gear, a knowledge of diving and computer systems, and the ability to make something out of nothing to quickly solve problems had narrowed the position down to a hand full of men world wide.

These men had put far too much effort into their respective field to work cheaply or for no pay. They were called super chiefs and were the wave of the future. Unfortunately the future was now and these men were all busy except one, and he was in the Walter Reed hospital dying of cancer... A sudden revelation hit him. Doc wondered if Miles was home yet and looked at his watch. It was three P.M. traffic time.


The President looked at the man seated across from him and frowned." You mean it was this Jewish doctor that got you involved?"

"He was not Jewish, Mr. President, and what the hell difference would it have made if he were? He was a surgeon and a scientist, and he belonged to no faith as some would like to categorize him. Just for the record, he was not an atheist either."

I have upset this man, the world leader thought as he shuffled papers before him, but he doesn't realize the ticklish spot I am in with the Israelis. He doesn't realize the position of the New World Order and the United Nations concerning the reoccupied territories. That did not even count as much as starting the greatest religious war in the history of the world, stopping the flow of precious oil.

Miles looked at the papers on the desk being moved around and reflected on the ploy the man in front of him was using to buy time to think. Miles was only too aware of the President's position with the Jews. The Israelis had seen to that on a personal basis over the past few months, day in and day out.

One thing the engineer had learned along time ago was never to reveal his cards too soon, to hold back and watch the other players carefully. This was the result of being knifed, shot, mugged and shanghaied. Miles liked Kriegspiel much better than he did straight chess as a game but this was hardly the time for games.

His mind flashed to President "Ike" and the building of Camp David when he caught a document title out of the corner of his eye. Reading upside down was an easy trick to him. Rumor had it the installation was not what it seemed to be, that it was somehow the result of U.F.O. problems. Anyone who brought this up was looked at as being somewhat strange, for it was well advertised that strange flying objects were nothing more than swamp gas or weather balloons, even when they flew right down the freeway. A prime example of the government's ability to cover things up was the Roswell incident. It was tough to be between a rock and a hard spot. He had to find out the depth of government involvement.

"Doc figured one of us would get through, sir. I just got lucky, that's all..." The engineer's mind flashed back...


The house was locked up tight and the house keeper left Miles a note explaining the only thing around to eat was either frozen or canned. The note was dated three months earlier, which was normal. He grunted after reading the message and proceeded to open all the doors and windows to air the place out.

Satisfied with the results, he placed some containers of juice in the refrigerator and rummaged through the cupboards until he found sealed bags of snacks, which he placed out on the counter. Entering the living room, Miles walked over and switched on the stereo unit. It was not on its normal station, in fact it was not on any station at all that he could receive. I must really be slipping, he thought as he checked out the rest of the house finding nothing unusual.

A few minutes later he heard a knock on his back door and let Doc in."I must say you are prompt, my friend. Not much to chew on yet until I go into Elma, but we will survive."

"I ate. The place smells a little musty."

"This is the Pacific Northwest Doc, even the people have moss on them, remember?"

The surgeon grinned and poured himself cranberry juice over ice. The routine had not changed in years. Now all that he had to do was see if he could get Miles to rise to thebait. Difficult but not impossible, he thought to himself as he followed the engineer into the living room.

"How was the love of your life? Excited to see you? I guess I really mean are there going to be any wedding bells in the near future?"

Miles just looked as his friend out of the corner of his eyes and Doc knew better than to pursue the subject. He had seen the same look at least a dozen times before. When it came to women, both had one thing in common and that was the fact close relationships with females were few and far between. Most woman could not stand their levels of intensity when it came to work.

Miles sat down and grinned. "It seems you are awful interested about my spare time. Now let me guess chum. You need a chief engineer for your expedition." Damn, the surgeon thought to himself. He has done it to me again. Am I that transparent? "Ugh..."

"Put your mind at ease. I just got a call from old "Crazy" before you walked in the door. He just happened to mention that you had just happen to mention I was in town, all by way of the phone, of course. You would not have been so foolish as to send him E-Mail."

Both men started to chuckle. "Crazy" was the nickname of the head marine archaeologist leading the summer expedition. His real name was George Landau and he was tops in his field. The fact that he was a little strange is where he had gotten his nickname.

"Well?"

The engineer looked at the computer off in the corner and wondered about the E-Mail George was going to send him. He had missed the Internet when he was gone, his Cyber friends and odd messages, the wonderful information he had at his disposal, then suddenly coming back to reality as Doc swirled the ice in his glass.

Miles looked around the room and swirled the juice in his own glass. He had not committed to anything yet. He needed time to think. He needed good weather and sunshine. Doc looked like he needed the same thing, he reflected. "I'm tired Doc. I am a forty-five year old beat up piece of meat that is slightly brain dead. When I come out of the north country, it takes me a month to settle down and fly right. "Crazy" implied he wanted me to leave tomorrow. That is out of the question."

Doc leaned back on the sofa. "I understand. Of course if everything works according to our theories, you would most likely get bored anyway. From what we found in the wreck last year, the job is just about done. The bulk of the work should be ashore at Ugarit and inland farther. They don't need a chief engineer then, just a man good withelectronics and computers. Maybe a little inventing... of course you can just read about it some time on the Internet."

"...and if the theory is wrong?"

"Blood, sweat and tears..."

"Uh huh...Say Doc, did I ever tell you about the time I got shanghaied?"


The President hung up the phone and looked at Miles. "They are bringing down some food. That is one thing we do have here, Mr. Horn, excellent food."

Miles looked at the man on the other side of the desk and suddenly realized he was hungry. He also was jolted with another thought. He actually liked this man and he didn't even vote for him, and for some reason he did not really trust him. He was just too pleasant. In any event, safeguards were in place. "Please continue Mr. Horn," the President gently prompted, noting the way the sailor was studying him.

"All sorts of funny things were happening, especially to our telephone communications, as we prepared to leave the country. It goes without saying the next stop was George and Greece..."


George "Crazy" Landau seemed to be the epitome of clumsiness on the land and half fish in the water. Unlike some of his counterparts at the University of Washington, he was a real teacher, not one to climb on a stage and read aloud from a book he had published and leave the details of teaching to some grad student.

An average nondescript fellow on the street, the Professor turned into a real tiger in the classroom, quickly and ruthlessly weeding out any who were not serious about his chosen field of marine archaeology or archaeology in general. George also had a degree in anthropology, doubling his ability to inter-relate data, and had a broad enough mind to be very well versed in all fields.

The science and engineering fields loved him as much as the sociologists and psychologists hated him. He did not consider the latter two areas science at all and he was right. They did not fit the definition and therefore were of limited use to him when he could use them, though they did come in handy time to time.

"Crazy" looked over what was left of his small select class, full well knowing he was going to leave them within the week and hating the thought of turning his "cream" over to another man, even if the man was a good one, and everyone in his department was excellent.

"Good morning, people. Last class we were discussing the Bible as a reference and I brought out the fact that the book of Genesis was hardly scientifically correct by any wild stretch of the imagination. You had two days to prepare any rebuttal and I would like to clean that subject up before continuing on. Who will be your spokes person?"

Fred McGovern stood up and scanned the room around him before looking "Crazy" in the eye, which was an act of bravery in itself. "I was chosen."

"Very well, Mr. McGovern. You may have access to the computer files for help, if needed."

"First of all, Professor Landau, the Bible states God made Adam from dust..."


Chiam was running faster than he had ever run before, dodging the bullets that bounced between the rocks and screamed wildly off into the sky above him. Each time he hit the ground there was another tattle tail puff of dust.

He was out of ammunition, had discarded his useless rifle, some how lost his pistol in the last rock pile which left him only his knife for personal protection. The ancient scroll sealed in it's special container was slowing him fatally down and he knew he had to get the object hidden and fast if he was going to make it out of this mess alive.

The oil company patrol had been after him for days and national borders meant nothing to likes of these people, he thought as his breath rasped into his burning lungs. The odds were not very good...

The mercenary rested his firearm against the rock and waited for the quarry to break from cover. He took the scope dust cover off and checked the sight out. All of his movements had taken only seconds. He turned his attention to the rest of the team below him, and watched them flush the rock cover.

Chiam found what he was looking for and quickly removed the cylinder from the pouch. He only had a short space of time to work, and he knew it. Sweat was running off of him as he took the last few precious seconds to cover what he had done. Satisfied with the handiwork, he sprinted for the next rock pile. Two more he thought. Just two more and maybe he had a good chance.

The sniper cursed softly as the Jew eluded the cross hairs one more time. The man was good, he thought, but the last cover would be a long one for him to reach.

Chiam rested for a minute and then steeled his nerves as he heard the men coming behind him. It was now or never, he reflected as he broke from cover. David, he thought, how could you do this to me... Seconds later a tremendous blow struck him between the shoulder blades, knocking him sprawling into the sand and then there was nothing...

Five men converged on the body, warily keeping it covered at all times until the obvious leader, a huge man of German decent, rolled the corpse over with his foot.

"Rest easy...he is very dead. The pouch is empty!" Hans Kling was puzzled. The container was missing and the quarry had been carrying it just an hour previously. It had to be hidden in the rocks before the agent had broken out of cover during his try to make the next boulder pile across the open stretch of sand.

Glancing back at the terrain he cursed. The odds were they had covered any sign of burial with their own tracks. When was the last time they had noticed the container? He cursed again.

Turning to his remaining four men he quietly spoke his orders."Search him and bury the body, then we will backtrack. We do not have much time. U.N. patrols will be converging on this area and we will have to hide. Night travel is no good. They have infrared."

The men went to work while a satellite far overhead intermittently recorded the scene below through the dust...


The Try-Omega corporation was just one of the many represented in the new Brussels complex, it's offices no more and no less ostentatious then the rest. In short it merely blended in just as it was supposed to, the same formula the monolith applied all over the world.

The nature of it's self perpetuating industry was the selling of information of all kinds, information buried in the largest data base in the world, the data base itself residing the world's hottest computer. The world was not aware of the computer, nor the fact the satellite over the Near East was broadcasting to the machine. That was just one of the space communication networks it was monitoring.

It was designed on the Program-Natal theory, which was amazingly simple. Start the machine off properly and let it design itself. It did just that and was still replacing old chips with the new ones it created, new logic circuits it deemed correct, and continuously changed it's own software, which it thoughtfully provided to Tri-Omega.

It was not out of control for it still depended upon man to supply the power. In essence the machine was a servant and not a master. One simply talked to it by phone for voice recognition, or modem for computer downloading.

Only one man knew the machine's actual location, the rest having passed on to their greater reward somewhat sooner than expected. The dummy computer in the main business complex was no dummy. It was the top of the line Cray and was fed just the information the main machine was ordered to give it and no more. The electronic nightmare could not be found due to the fact records for it did not exist...

The information it gathered on it's own came from all the computers in the world whether the machines were on modem systems or not. Anything that was grounded supplied the information, the computer's main contact with all others being the earth itself.

When the Israeli Mossad fired data into it's computer describing the condition of Chiam's body, the corpse location and the fact the scroll was not with the dead man, a special file was activated in Tri-Omega and a message was transmitted off to Bern, Switzerland...

In essence the Israeli communication stated they would have to start all over again and place an agent within the expedition slated for the coming season in the Black Sea area. Somehow the retrieval of an old ship had become very important.

The Jews would not be the only ones to lend their expertise and financial support...


The meeting was long, tedious, and for David, very interesting. The bottom line centered around Iraq and the findings of known modern civilization.

David's story had really started six years before the meeting...

The little known and quietly financed Israeli Ancient Languages Institute contained a very powerful computer that had been carefully programed by everyone in archaeology who was up on the latest findings in linguistics, written languages, and pictographs. It had taken years to do this...

David watched the last of the clay shards that were covered with cuneiform pass into the scanning chamber. They had finished entering the other data about the fragments and their previous location, Kuwait. The very same computer that was working now was the one which had told them to investigate the Kuwait area after it had translated an earlier find consisting of Joshua's secret document scrolls. This had been the first project the computer had ever been used for, due to the fact the old writing had been encrypted by Joshua's personal scribe.

With the help of NASA's JPL lab, the bottom of the Persian Gulf had been diagramed as well as the area around the straights, and with these computer generated files the Israeli's had added an ice age time program which showed the sea levels rise and fall. The net effect allowed them to pick most likely areas now underwater to excavate. They were banking on the fact that permanent records had been baked into ceramics form and not dissolved by the water. The Arabs who controlled the area were not aware of the Israeli involvement in the various projects, some of which were channeled through the Tri-Omega people for funding. The day came when the expeditions hit pay dirt...

There was nothing more David could do now, except wait for the translation of the texts after the machine assembled them and it had just devoured an entire ancient library which miraculously was totally intact. It was a huge form of the Rosetta stone, lexicons baked into hard ceramics which had been carefully stacked in a buried brick building built by a colony of scribes that had been relentlessly pushed inland by the rising sea level over the centuries. A full one fourth of the text find was in a script that was older than the childish pictographs reputed to be 8000 years old.

It was the first story of creation, copied over and over, each following translation distorting the original as language concepts and full understanding changed. The technician caught his attention and waved him over. The first printout was on its way and the computer started talking...


" When the solar system had not been named by man, Earth had not been called; nothing but the primordial sun, the source of the planets, Mercury and Old Earth...the sun who bore them all; their gases were mingled together. None of the planets yet had been brought into being, none bore a name, their destinies were undetermined. Their gases were mingled together... Planets were formed in their midst: Planet Mars and planet Venus were created; by name they were called.

Before they had grown in age and in stature to an appointed size... Planet Saturn and the planet Jupiter were formed, surpassing the others in size. Time passed and the planet Uranus was created from the left over material, then Saturn's first-born, Uranus, as his equal and in his appearance formed Neptune and the gases had all solidified.

The planets lined up and conjucted together; they disturbed Old Earth as it orbited. They were troubling the "core" of Old Earth by their orbits in the solar system."


David glanced excitedly at those watching the large screen with him, noting their own shock. The printer were buzzing in the background as the computer's voice continued to ring out in the room...


"Crazy" waited patiently for the student to finish, glad he had not tried to hold his breath through the ordeal. It was always the same, as well as his little following lecture.

"First of all, before you speak of the Bible in such reverent tones, I suggest you carefully read it. Who wrote the book of Genesis? Moses did. Who wrote the book of Exodus? Moses did. Just for the record he also wrote Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy and Job. Now just who was Moses?"

McGovern looked slightly uncomfortable and then merely stated,"He was a man inspired by God..."

"Now we are getting somewhere, Mr. McGovern. He was an inspired man. The Book is an inspiration to us all, and it well defines what we seem to be incapable of learning. There is only one little problem with The Book. The Greeks edited the hell out of the original Jewish texts, and Moses was a Hebrew Egyptian...following instructions."

George paused and gauged the class reaction. "Man is not a newcomer to this planet, in short, he has been around for some time. He was using fire about one and a half million years ago. Notice I said,"using it," not making it. We really do not know when that event occurred."

"We know he was using the crudest stone tools about the time he was walking upright, and had group or clan arrangements. In short, he was social. Most apes are. Now just what stage of creation was Moses talking about? How many Adams or how many Eves have there been?"

"I am of the Christian persuasion, Mr. McGovern, but as a scientist I also am fully aware of the short comings of my fellow man. Man changes history to suit his political and religious convictions. He will justify his actions by rationalization. Hiroshima is a fine example."

"Moses started writing, as near as we can figure out, in the Wilderness 1513 years before Christ and stopped writing on the Plains of Moab 1473 B.C. Keep in mind this data is still fluctuating and there has been no scientific evidence to date that Moses even existed, except the Bible or Torah, and yet it was this book that started man searching for his lost heritage. Now Joshua waited twenty-three more years before he wrote his book, if we take everything at face value. I say this because certain writings were scattered and fragmented in 1190 B.C., making the next known scribe Samuel. 200 plus years of records were missing from a continuous document up to this present date."

The students began to get nervous, thinking the day was Friday, not Sunday...

George was not insensitive to the feeling emanating from the class."Our concern however is primarily Genesis. The origin and scattering of man and the rise of man's civilizations. I hate to tell you this because it seems so crude, but we began true life as hollow worms."

He had their attention now. Some of them would most likely remember the last statement every time they fished with natural bait, he amusingly reflected before continuing onward with his speech.

"Mitrochondrial DNA tells us that much. We came from the elements or dust, if you so chose to think of it that way. Keep in mind what Moses said about Adam, but what about Eve?"

"She was made from Adam's rib".

"Correct! In modern context with what Moses said, Adam came up through the evolutionary process but Eve was made! Now when was she made? How was she made? We can only make an educated guess. Something wonderful happened to man about eighty to thousand years ago and because of this awakening, today we can watch the Earth from the moon if we so desire."

Murmurs about mutation issued from the students.

"If we can now manipulate the genes, clone plants, simple organisms and travel the heavens, just think what God can do... or someone with a 500,000 year jump on our ancestors. Moses was a modern man and a great thinker. He was not the first law giver, but by far one of the better ones. If we could faithfully keep the ten laws God gave to Moses, we would need no other laws. There would be no lawyers, murders and war... Yes?"

"But you stated the Bible was not very accurate..."

"Learn to listen...learn to listen, Fred. I said "scientifically accurate", did I not?" George knew he made his point from the looks on their faces. "In some respects Genesis is frightfully accurate. Moses did the best he could to put down the history of our beginnings in the way the common man of his time could understand, and covered almost fifty thousand years in a few pages. Now ask yourselves this. Upon what did he base his information? Dreams? Close encounters of the third kind? Experiences? His Egyptian influences, the likes of which were passed to the Egyptians from the Mesopotamians before modern writing was invented?"

George cleared his throat. "Man was already playing with mathematics but until he learned to save his documents in fired clay, records of any type broke down, especially when wet. Moses may or may not have been a prince of Egypt, but we know for a fact he was one hell of a scribe. When did the ice age start ending? How about ten thousand years ago. We have evidence of tremendous floods in the Mesopotamia area five thousand to six thousand years ago, and others that were worse and go farther back. Any records noted on sun dried clay would have dissolved."

The students were really into it now. He had stimulated their intellectual curiosity.

"One last thing to think about. The oldest village found in that section of the country thus far is Jericho, it was positively dated at ten thousand six hundred years ago, and tribes of modern humans crossed into the Americas at least twenty five and possibly thirty-five thousand years back. In fact new data from Peru may put our ancestors in the New World fifty-five thousand years ago. Still we are sure we originated in our truly modern form from someplace in South West Asia. Early man came out of Africa, but modern man went back in. Our initial trade routes, which had been established by the Neanderthals, started when men followed the river valleys which in turn led him to the mountain passes. Now it seems we have had the Java man with us until approximately 25,000 years ago, which really does not fit the excepted pattern, does it..."

Fred looked thoughtful and so did the rest of his class as he began picking up. "Professor, are you saying that man was not just reduced down to the numbers in Noah's party?"

"One line was and that was traced by Moses. The other line Moses lost track of."

"Which one was that, sir?"

"Cain, Fred. We don't know what happened to the line of Cain...Oh! I almost forgot... Some of you through the years you choose to follow the path of life may suddenly start seeking guidance through prayer for fear of doing something terribly wrong, such as exposing something God does not want you to see. Keep this peaceful thought in mind.If he does not want you to find what you are looking for, you won't. Each and everyone of us has a part of God in us and he was kind enough to define himself. "I am what I am....

Glancing quickly around the classroom, he knew he had their full attention now and proceeded.

"You are what you are...We ate from the Tree of Knowledge and in truth are still feeding on it. God told us what was right and what was wrong, merely interpret the Ten Commandments both ways."Thou shall not" can be turned around to say Not shall thou. If you forget about the "Not".... well you had better check out the New Testament and books of other faiths that offer redemption."

"Always keep in mind where the book came from and which version you are reading. Genesis has quite a story but you will have to seek out other data now available to us, for example the texts that have been put together from the Land of Shinar, or Shumer/Sumer. Genesis seems to be a synopsis of ancient Sumerian texts."


David walked out of the meeting and blinked in the bright sunlight as it hit his eyes. He remembered what the Sumerians had said about the sun as he slid into the blistering vehicle and rolled down the windows to cool it down...
"The Sun could not change their orbits; Old Earth was helpless at their conjunctions. Their forces were massive They were out of natural balance.

In the Universe and from our galaxy a planet was formed between our sun and the nearest star, thus The Shining Planet created. Colorful was its appearance, sparkling bright; it was traveling fast, from the galactic creation....

It was the largest of the planets; it was the farthest out of the planets, in deep space; its moons were enormous, it was massive. Old Earth and The Shining Planet advanced against one another; their orbits in opposite rotation. They pressed on to single combat, they approached for collision. The Earth attracted the Moon, in their midst gravitation made it lead into the collision.

Saturn opened its atmosphere toward Pluto, its moon at the time, and exploded, sending it to take another orbit unto the rest of the planets.

The Shining Planet reached out to enfold Old Earth;

The one moon, the rear most, it unleashed at Earth's face.

As Earth opened her seas, the shining planet drove in the moon. The fierce other satellites then charged Earth's core;

the planet became distended; Earth's seas opened wide, an electrical charge tore into the magma; cutting through the plates and tore into the core; Earth's atmosphere was extinguished.

The solar system was shattered, the Moon broken up.

The comets, Earth's helpers who traveled through space with her, turned their orbits around. Thrown into the gravitational pull they found themselves trapped, the whole band of debris that had marched on Earth's side.

The Shining Planet's mass attracted them, their orbits it changed to its own which was counter to the rest of the system, and tightly encircled, the comets could not escape.

The Planet had split Old Earth into two parts, the collision with its moon changing the New Earth's orbit. The other part had another fate: on the second pass, the Shining Planet himself hit it, smashing it to pieces. This half of Old Earth he set up as a screen for the skies: Locking them together, it bent Old Earth's debris to form the asteroids as a bracelet. Thus the Planet mated with our world....

The asteroids stretched out in the place of The Shining Planet's orbit between Jupiter and Mars, and the Earth was suspended spinning in the new orbit....His energy the Earth's Moon did shape; His forces the asteroids measured out; His extra fragment the Sun did extinguish.

Putting Earth into position, the collision raised the mountains thereon, opened springs, the torrents to draw off, ultimately releasing the Tigris and Euphrates. Shining Planet: The Crossroads of Heaven and Earth he shall occupy: Above and below, they shall not go across; they must await him..."


David recalled his last words to the tech as he swung out into the heavy traffic, and wondered how the man was doing.

"...the Sumerian scripts were pretty close, considering...Get me good copies." David quietly stated as he stared at the screen for the rest of the translation. " Don't put anything out on the Internet yet, Micah..."

The tech looked up from his small terminal. "You bet, Dave..."


"Shining Planet: Planet which is brilliant in the heavens. He holds the central position; to him they shall all quake upon arrival. Shining Planet: It is he who without tiring orbits, the midst of Earth keeps crossing. Let "CROSSING" be his name, the one who occupies the midst. The Planet crossed the Heaven and surveyed the regions....

The structure of the Deep the lordly body then measured. In deep space he established as his apogee; the asteroids he established as his perigee. Upon the Deep he marked out an orbit; where light and darkness merge, is his farthest limit. The great planet: At his appearance, dark red.

The Heaven he divides in half, and stands as The Shining Planet...."

The computer hesitated then spoke. "The maps have not been loaded in...maps are missing....please load the maps..... please load Zuisudra's maps.... please load Noah's maps...."


Micah started keyboarding rapidly while the machine droned on in default until the tech shut the voice off. "There is a problem, David."

"I can hear too, Micah... The Joshua scrolls said the maps were in Hebrew hands. Now we know how accurate the scrolls were. Don't put any of this on the wire until I get back from Tel Aviv."

"Shall I keep trying for a translation around this block?"

"You have my blessings. Go for the closest intact level, it most likely will be Sumerian or Assyrian. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"I'm not going anywhere. This is not going to be easy..."

David slowed to a stop as the security guard approached his vehicle. Now all he had to do was to get by security to see the Prime Minister...


Half way around the world, "Crazy" looked at his watch and then back up at the students. "Many men wrote the Bible but Moses was the one man above all who was instrumental in designing it, with or without divine help, and because of his foresight we were left a record that told us where to start looking. That is how we ultimately found Ur. Abram traveled to the land of Shinar which is known as Shumer, we mistakenly misnamed it later to Sumer, when those civilizations were already ancient."

"It should be quite obvious to you that Abraham was looking and found something that changed him for the rest of his life. Moses made note of it. That is all for the day. I will see the survivors next September."

McGovern called out,"Where are you going this time, Professor Landau?"

George pushed his glasses back up his nose."Why, maybe I am going to try to find Eden..." Then he left the room chuckling to himself.

His every move was being monitored as he crossed the campus to the "Hub", where he met with the backers of the expedition. From there they retreated to his department's conference room. That was were George received the unexpected good news...


Micah finished keyboarding for the third time after David had left the facility. Its now or never, he thought as he restarted the program. His efforts were rewarded as the machine started speaking again out of default mode.
"Let there listen to the gods who are in Heaven, and those who are upon the dark-hued Earth! Let there listen, the mighty olden gods.

Formerly, in the olden days, Alalu was king in Heaven;

He, Alalu was seated on the throne. Mighty Anu, the first among gods, stood before him, bowed at his feet, set the drinking cup in his hand and waited for his chance to freedom. For nine counted periods, Alalu was King in Heaven. In the ninth period, Anu and his followers gave battle against Alalu.

Alalu was defeated, he fled before Anu...He descended to the dark hued Earth. Down to the dark-hued Earth he went. On the throne sat Anu. The first on the new free council.

On Earth no cities would be built, no settlement founded; no stalls would be built, no sheep folds erected; no king would be raised, no high priest born....

Alalu was in hiding. He went into deep sleep...


"He's Nuts! Damn it Doc, George is really out of his mind," Miles stated as he put down the phone for the second time since arriving home, and within two hours at that. How in the hell did everyone find out he was in town? The thought puzzled him.

"Hell, I have known that for years while you just merely suspected it. What did he have to say this time?" Doc was curious. "Crazy" had gotten to Miles in a very big way. Something important to the engineering soul.

"He said the expedition suddenly came into unlimited funds and would have the use of a new type of computer. A machine that would work anywhere and tie into the Try-Omega System. Not only that, but the computer would be mine at the end of the expedition, as well as a wage so high I could not look at myself in the mirror if I accepted it."Miles shook his head. He was stunned.

Doc thoughtfully swirled the juice in his glass and then quickly drained the container of the red fluid. He let Miles pace the floor for a few seconds before breaking the engineer's train of thought.

"And..."

Miles stopped pacing and just stared at his friend. "Doc, I never look at myself in the mirror..."


A few days later Miles put down the receiver and looked at the two bags he was allowed to carry on the plane. Unlike the rest, he did not send other luggage ahead of his departure. He was used to traveling light. His phone puzzled him the last two days, as all of the long distance connections had that hollow satellite sound, which was abnormal for his area 360 calls. Then there was the feeling he was being followed when he went to Olympia to get a few items he could not find in his home town area. I must be getting goosey, he thought, as the sound of Doc's horn signaled the departure from the house.

Doc hit the trunk button and waited as Miles loaded his two suitcases before sliding into the passengers side of the car. "Ready?"

"Hell no! I'm getting those funny feelings again, Doc. The ones that tell me trouble is coming."

"There most likely will be some, Miles. We are heading halfway across the world." Doc pulled out of the driveway and glanced at his friend. "Did your phone sound funny the last two days?"

Miles looked at the man driving. "As a matter of fact, it did. The phone company must be modernizing again."

"They did that six months ago, Miles. I feel like I am being watched, also. Keep an eye out for unusual traffic patterns, will you?"

"I hear you, chum..."

The two men could detect nothing unusual in the I-5 traffic patterns as they drove to Sea-Tac International Airport, seventy miles from home. It was not unusual for traffic to travel together from the point they cut onto the highway, as many of the vehicles with them were coming from Portland and going to Seattle.

The car valet met them at the entrance and took Doc's Acura to the storage garage. They had an hour to kill before they departed, and opted for one of the cafes for coffee before heading for the boarding area.

As they passed through the security gate, a woman walked over to one of the phones and spoke into the handset, never taking her eyes off the men heading up the ramp. Putting down the phone, she quickly went to the gate and passed through, continuing her assigned surveillance. She watched until they actually boarded their flight on the first leg of their trip, then made one more call before leaving the airport...


Miles looked out the window as the aircraft circled for the fifth time and started on it's final approach into Athens. He had never been to Greece before, in fact other than Mexico and Russia, he had never been out of the jurisdiction of the United States. For the first time in years he actually was looking forward to running the engineering department of a ship. Even Doc snoring beside him didn't bother Miles at all.

"Hey Doc, wake up."

"Ugh...the pilot finally found it?"

"If he hasn't we are in real trouble..."

"I guess that means he found it.."


Miles liked the ship, all 150 feet of it. She was small but designed for her purpose of research which included shallow waters and small ports. He liked his staff, a real complement of First, Second, and Third engineers, an electrician and electronics repair man, and three oilers. He was stunned with the amount of help he had. The diving equipment was maintained by its own crew and would also coordinate problems with his department.

The captain was a Turk who knew how to run ships and where to look. The chief mate was a Greek who knew as much as the captain and made a point to let the captain know he knew just that. They had sailed together for years. The only subject they refused to argue about was Cypress and they were always arguing politely about something.

He liked the Greeks and just loved Athens. There was only one thing he did not care for and that was a nagging thought that something terrible was going to happen. He began to take defensive steps.

When Miles got that feeling, he started walking like a gunfighter. His back was never exposed if he could avoid it and his senses became double sharp. There was good reason for it and it all had happened in the past. He had learned the hard way to trust his sixth sense. He did everything short of packing firearms. That would come later.

Doc tried to kid him out of it...

"Crazy" was more thoughtful about it. He had the same feeling and he had been on many expeditions before and some had gone wrong. George Landau was not really nuts, just gifted and he trusted his God given gifts emphatically. He began to make his own special preparations.

He did not like the idea of arming himself, but when he thought back over all the expeditions he had been on through the years, he realized he was alive because he could defend himself when it was called upon. George was a crack shot with a pistol...

Then the others started to arrive and the fun began...

The first was a superstitions sailor's nightmare. She was equipped with breasts, had all the right curves, could manipulate most men when she desired and worst of all, was a genius. Not only could she tantalize, speak seven languages, one of which was body signals, she also was morally impregnable at whim.

The deck crew willingly became her slaves and that really upset Miles. Not that she was his type, she wasn't, but shipboard routines had a way of being put off in pursuit of other more personally inclined endeavors. Some of them were safety items he wanted completed.

Her name was Heidi Shoenbachler and she came from Bern, Switzerland. She was twenty-eight years old and a blue eyed blond in an area of the world that placed them in great demand. He asked Doc to talk to her about the problem, as they were closer in age, Doc being forty to his forty-five.

George was running their show but Doc was "Crazy's" mouthpiece. Miles was Doc's friend, so the request seemed reasonable at the time, and seemed to work. At least that was until Doc was not as available as he should have been. Miles noticed the surgeon's French improved considerably but their final destination most likely was in the opposite direction, a fact also not lost on the chief engineer.

Then the computer came and Mile's world changed forever...

MOBIUS INSIGHT


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