STARSHIP GENESIS
Written by
Marcus de Moberleigh
And
Linda M. Miller
Updated U.S. Copyright September 6, 2017 by Authors
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction
Previously, copyrighted 2016.
ISBN: 978-0-692-94999-3
Published 2017 by TeleGraphics LLC (of Virginia)
DISCLAIMER
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events and incidents are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is dedicated to our two older brothers, Paul and Ted, as well our younger brother, Ray. Paul worked for the U. S. Treasury, and Ted was a Police Officer. Both served heroically in Vietnam. Ray served in Desert Storm and Enduring Freedom. We greatly appreciate their service.
Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
PROLOGUE
IN THE BEGINNING
THE 2016 EXCAVATION
THE GENESIS CREW RESUMES ITS MISSION
THE LIFE SEEDS’ NEW HOME
INQUIRIES
ABERMARLE
A NEW PARTNERSHIP
MATT’S DOUBLE DILEMMA
WELCOME TO THE PROJECT
MATT’S CREW JOINS THE PARTY
THE LAB
A NEW WORLD
THE FLIGHT TEST
HOME SWEET HOME
Front Deonna’s View
A MENAGERIE-ADVENTURE
MATT TIES THE KNOT
LIFE AMONG THE ANCIENTS
FINAL PREPS AND THANKSGIVING!
DEONNA’S CHOICE
TALON’S EXPLORATION
RETURN TO PERU
0:500
MEET THE NATIVES OF PERU
THE FERTILE CRESCENT OF ANCIENT EGYPT
THE JAREDITES
THE RETURN TRIP TO THE GENESIS & CREW
THE JAREDITE WARS
THE TREACHERY OF TUBALOTH
THE COUNCIL AWAKENS
SAME PLACE, ANOTHER TIME
THE VILLAGE
A SCARY ASSESSMENT
GLACIERS AMONG OTHER THINGS
ANOTHER WORLD
TALONS LAMENT
THE FLIGHT FROM CORIANTUMUR
AN UNEXPECTED RESCUE
TALON’S RETURN
CATCHING UP WITH TALON
GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER
KORBAN AND CASSIE’S NEW WORLD
WHAT TO DO WITH A TIME PORTAL:
MARK’S DECISION
AT HOME WITH MATT AND KIM
THE GENESIS RECOVERY
MATT CATCHES UP WITH SIGMAS
THE PERUVIAN MINISTER’S COURTESY CALL
TALON’S AFTERMATH
EPILOGUE
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Marcus de Moberleigh
This book was inspired by an archeological dig which occurred in Peru during the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. Archeologists discovered mummies of children and women buried in clay pottery. Each was beautifully dressed. Peru, with all of its archeological sites, including Machu Picchu and the Nazca lines implies a much more sophisticated technology than the early Incas civilization were capable of. Many writers generalize that an extraterrestrial people are responsible.
Generations have studied the night skies, wondering who and where we came from. That often presents a conflict with Christianity and evolution. Did man originate on this world? Could life be an adventure that God has given us? Is this life’s journey supposed to be a test environment? I deem it very likely that for all the conditions on this world to exist and for life to live upon it, that someone, somewhere had a hand in it. Life certainly gives us opportunities to grow and learn from our mistakes. I believe there is someone out there and He is cheering us on!
Linda M. Miller
Mark and I both came up with similar ideas for this book and decided to combine our works together. That was back in 2012 when the Mayan Calendar was often speculated to be the “end of the world.”
We decided to have fun with that. I’ve always followed the early astronauts and space shuttle missions. I’m a true Sci-Fi and Trekkie nut. Although, reality tells me I would never want to leave a perfectly good planet.
We owe many thanks to our spouses and others who have contributed their ideas and suggestions, as well as proofing our terrible grammar! Thanks to Melissa and David. We’d also like to thank Miranda for her great suggestions and guidance. We couldn’t have done this without them.
PROLOGUE
One more week and I’ll be home again; no more looking over my shoulder! Its scary stuff romancing a drug lord’s daughter; especially in Peru. My role consists of charming her for information. She is a fellow student at the Universidad Nacional Federico Villarreal. It doesn’t hurt that she’s absolutely gorgeous. She’s meeting me at the Plaza Jiron de la Union.
“Paulo!” She waives and runs towards me.
“Juanita,” I stare at her fixated. She is a real dish. “You look beautiful today.” She smiles and kisses me; but not long enough.
“Is that for me?” she asks.
“Oh. Yes.” I pass her the cola, while sipping my own.
“Thank you. How thoughtful. What do you want to do today?”
“How about we visit that museum you’ve been bragging about. We can use a diversion from school work.”
“Excellent choice.” she replies. We walk the plaza and board a bus near the Policia Centro. There are officers out front today. Their presence makes me a little uncomfortable, knowing these guys could pick me off as a US Agent. It’s not so much that the officers may be crooked. The drug lords threaten their families and force them to cooperate.
“How about we hit the beach on Saturday?”
“Oh,” she laughs. “I would love that Paulo. But my father is taking our family to the mountains this weekend.”
I put my arm around her and whisper, “Couldn’t you skip out on that trip?” I ask. She laughs again.
“Paulo, I have to help with my little brother. We’re flying to San Luis tomorrow, up in the Mountains. “But you can call me. I’ll have my phone.”
“I feel deserted already.” I tell her.
“Really?” she kisses me and laughs. “Well, I wish you could come. You would love the mountains there. My favorite mountain looks like a sleeping woman. And it has caves that are great to visit.”
“Sounds great. If I follow you, what would your father say?”
“Hmmm. He would expect to meet you months in advance. My father is very strict, Paulo. Family comes first.”
“Good man,” I respond. “I’ll just wait here until you return then.” We visit the Museum of the Nation.
“You’ll love this place, Paulo. It has a lot of Pre-Columbian and Andean artifact displays in it.” We look at a jug in the shape of a man.
“What is this?”
“Isn’t it beautiful? It is called the Lanzon. It’s a replica of the original from the ancient Chavin culture. They were up in the central highlands of Peru. Their religion was the first major religious and cultural movement in the Andes from 900 and 200 BCE. They built many underground passages in the Old Temple.”
“Amazing. I would like to visit this place.” I respond. “Perhaps before I head back to Rio.” I have the Brazilian accent down; but I’m actually second generation Portuguese in the U.S. Rio is my exit zone before I return to the US. And Paulo is my cover name.
“I should tell you, Juanita. I may be returning to Rio in two weeks on family business. So I will be gone for a while.”
“Oh Paulo. You’ll never meet my father unless you stick around.”
&nbs
p; “You could come to Rio to see me, you know.”
“Papa won’t let me go anywhere out of this city without a guard. We’d never be alone.” I pretty much figured that out. We’re always being followed, I think to myself.
“I will text you, Juanita.” “What is this mural?” I ask.
“It is called “The Moche Revolt of the Objects.” Juanita explains. “It refers to the sun’s death where five days passed like nights. The rocks banged against each other. The mortars and grinding stones began to eat men. Many of us believe that this refers to an event at the time of death of our Lord, Jesus Christ.”
“Amazing.” I react.
“I wish I could show you more, Paulo. But I need to be going. I need to pack before we leave.” I escort her back to the bus. I hold her close and we kiss.
“Call me Paulo. I’ll miss you!” She then gets on the bus and waves. Time for me to make a drop. Obviously, Juanita thinks it’s just a family vacation. But I’m certain her father, Nephtali Santos, is going to be visiting a nearby unmarked airfield where he’ll ship a load of cocaine and precursors to Venezuela via light aircraft. I head back to my apartment to compose a note to my colleague, encrypting the information. I then head down to the bus depot to a rented locker to drop the note. My colleague will then text me a confirmation later tonight. I pick up some enchiritos and head back to my apartment to watch the news. My phone buzzes and a text appears.
“Let’s meet at the cafe tonight where we met previously.” I pack light clothing and usual toiletries in my backpack and head out to flag a cab. A cabbie stops for me and I get in. “Airport.” The “cafe” is actually code for me to meet Ricardo at the airport. All I have to do is look for the gate that leaves for San Luis, and he’ll probably be there waiting for me. I pay the cabbie, and head into the main concourse to check departures. The departures list displays Gate B17. Ricardo is waiting in line at security and he hands me my ticket.
“How’s school?” he asks.
“Great. I visited the National Museum today and viewed some ancient artifacts. It was interesting.”
“Great. You can probably use that for your paper.” He adds. Meaning my report when I return to the US. My ticket shows that our flight leaves in one hour. It’s a small prop plane. We’re only flying about 400 miles. Our plan is to head out tonight so that we can tail Juanita’s father to where they will be staying. Eventually, we’ll pinpoint the airfield where he ships his drugs from. We grab coffee and sit with our backs to a wall watching who boards the flight. We board last and head back to the last seats in economy. Ricardo and I both are under age 30; so everyone just assumes we are students. The flight is full tonight. We manage a light snooze, since we’ll be sitting in a parked rental car off the airport when we get there. We are awakened when the landing gear touches onto the pavement in San Louis with a thud! The flight taxis to the gate and we disembark, heading directly to car rentals. Ricardo receives a text about the flights and rental for Nephtali Santos.
“His flight arrives around 3:00 in the afternoon.” We head to a diner for breakfast and hang out for a while.
“There’s a lot to do in this town,” I tell Ricardo. “The whole area is supposed to be a national park.”
“I grabbed a map on our way out.” He says. “Let’s take a look.” The map shows a large river with lots of streams flowing into it. Much of it is actually wilderness. “Here’s the main highway. It flows by this river and then there are little restaurants here and there with picnic areas.”
“1:59,” I tell him. “Time to go.”
We head out to the car and drive back to the airport. I drop Ricardo off at the concourse where Juanita’s family will come through. Juanita does not know Ricardo. But Ricardo knows her. Their itinerary shows a car rental on it. I drive around the concourse again and proceed to stop early two gates back, waiting. There are so many busses and people. Ricardo sends a text to follow the blue bus up ahead. He’s on it, no doubt. I follow the bus. It heads to the car rental. Ricardo gets off and heads for the restroom. Juanita’s family gets out, and they’re accompanied by two strong men who grab the luggage while looking around. The family heads inside and Ricardo returns and gets into our car. We head out of the rental area and park behind cars in the area where the Santos’ rental will depart. We wait 15 minutes.
“There!” I point. “That SUV.” We follow the SUV. There’s plenty of traffic. As we thought, we follow the road that parallels the river up ahead. The resort lies at the end of town.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“We rent a canoe.” Ricardo responds. “It will make us look more like tourists.”
“Brilliant.” We do that and the dealer throws in the mount for the top of the car for free. We park in the resort and watch the parking lot. The family goes to dinner with body guards.
“I’ll bet we’re spending the night in the car again, aren’t we?” I ask.
“Yeah, probably. Let’s go grab some grub.” We hit a road side cafe and eat at a picnic table. I sit with my back to the road. And as I thought, we spend the night in our rental car sipping coffee in the parking lot. The next morning. Nephtali Santos heads out early with one of his guards.
“Okay, we’re on.” We give them some space and follow in their general direction. We continue further on the road that parallels the big river. They travel for about 30 miles where the topography turns more jungle-like. They turn off the road heading up towards the canyon. A small aircraft flies low over the jungle canopy.
“Looks like we’ve spotted the airfield.” Ricardo says. A very large green Hummer rams the back of our vehicle and fires shots at us.
“We’ve been made, man.” Ricardo says.
“What do we do, now?” I yell.
“Run! Maybe we can lose them.” Another shot shatters the windshield.
“Oh hell!” I get out and run down to the river. We split up and agree to meet back in town. The river has a pretty good current and it’s somewhat deep. More shots. I jump in and go with the flow. Good thing it’s a summer day in December. Another shot. These guys don’t give up. There are trees up ahead and I stop in the trees and hide.
Two men pass by me. The hummer follows the road going back to town. They’re anticipating my return to the city. Just great! I need an alternate plan now. I notice a small hidden waterfall and I head for it climbing in an upward direction. Maybe I can skirt these bad boys. I make it to the waterfall and rest. My view is limited to just the basin of the falls. I need to climb higher to get my bearings. I’ve managed to escape from the Hummer. But I don’t know what’s happened to Ricardo. Santos’ men will be watching the roads to town now and waiting for us. That means I have to take the back country. There are monkeys everywhere and magnificent birds. Going into survival mode makes me hungry and I’m lost. My phone is ruined and that rules out GPS. Sure could use that map Ricardo showed me. I decide to stick to the streams and keep going. I suddenly feel a very sharp stab on my right hand.
“Oh man!” It’s a huge spider and it’s just bitten my hand!. I quickly brush it off as my head starts to swoon. I stumble, falling down in the creek on my face. The water is freezing cold and I’m dizzy. Suddenly, a bright sparkly, crystal object catches my eye in the water. I grab it. It’s shaped like an egg. Bright pastel colors radiate like a throbbing jewel. Who knows? Maybe it would have made me rich. But I’m dying now. I stuff it in my jacket. This is it. I succumb to my fate.
“What the…?” Someone is slapping my face. I feel a hand on my forehead.
“Still got a fever? Looks like you’ve been bit by something. You’ll probably be okay.”
“Who are you? What do want from me?” I ask.
“I found you in a waterfall just off the side of the road. I could have left you there, so be grateful I brought you to my home. You’re in Las Palmas. You were sick.” He offers me water.
“Thank you, I think.”
“What is your name? Can I call anyone to let them know you’re
okay?”
“What day is it?” I ask.
“It’s Monday, December 5th.”
I’ve been out of commission for two days. “Can I use your phone? I need to call my family.” He then shows me his quaint old rotary phone. I dial the embassy in Lima.
“I put my hand in my back pocket for a second, and feel the stone. I thought it was just a dream. I pull it out and look at it, then tuck it away before the man notices it.”
IN THE BEGINNING
Stars are born every day, and every day stars die. Our secondary star, TerraValle is dying.
Scientists have warned our planet, TerraNorre, our entire solar system will be nonexistent once TerraValle implodes upon our larger star, TerraNova. The ensuing implosion will create a mammoth black hole and engulf the entire solar system. Denial consumes me and the crew. The Genesis’ mission drives us because of the developing situation on TerraNorre. But our mission is only a temporary escape as we seek out and explore other worlds.
“Korban, I’ve found it,” Deonna interrupts. A star chart appears before me in a hologram.
“Here, in the southern quadrant.” An arrow points to a solar system 14 light years away. I magnify the chart to further assess Deonna’s selection.
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