Ark Of Hope: Beyond The Dark Horizon

by Roger David Francis

  Ark

  Of Hope

  Roger D. Francis

  Other books by this author include:

  Teggie

  When Twilight Falls

  Black Haven Farm

  The Devil's Locket

  Penny Arcade

  23 Steps To Evil

  © 2017 Roger David Francis

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means - electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise- without the prior written permission of the author Roger David Francis.

  To my friends and family for their love and support. Special thanks to my Mum Sylvia Brown for all her inspiration and patience.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  About the Author

  Contact the Author

  Chapter 1

  Professor Henry Bunting laid his pen down, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Hunched up on a three legged stool in his little cabin at the front of his boat wasn’t the most comfortable place to spend four hours researching. It was peaceful though, he could be sure of no interruptions. He looked around him, at the sunlight streaming into the cabin and thought there was no finer place to be. There was a gentle cooling breeze blowing and the waves were lapping gently at the sides of the boat.

  Sometimes he marvelled at his own stamina. He was seventy seven and still driven by the greatest desire of his life; to prove to the world that their earth was indeed flat and not round as they believed. It sounded so simple but his theory was complex, full of anomalies and sometimes he wished there were more words in the dictionary to explain the true nature of what he believed.

  It had been his life’s work for six decades. He’d thought of little else, he’d written about it, lectured about it and dreamt about it, but still he wasn’t taken seriously.

  The trouble was people wanted proof and Henry couldn’t provide it. He needed them to take a leap of faith, to see the world as he saw it, in all its glory and all its perplexities.

  He had all the maps showing where the Antarctic ceased to exist, became a wall of impenetrable ice that no man had crossed over, that no planes had ever flown above because if they had they would have disappeared into the ether. Henry knew this, the USA government knew this, as did China and other major countries, but it had been the best kept secret from mankind for centuries; more secret than Area 51; the blue book, or nuclear warfare.

  The big one that no one would dare talk about.

  Did they fear ridicule? No, Professor Bunting thought it was something far more sinister than that. How would the governments of the world explain why a cloak of secrecy had been thrown over something so momentous? And why? Because they didn’t want people to know how terrifyingly insecure their world was, how finely balanced their place in the galaxy.

  Henry was convinced the earth was a flat world, slightly domed shaped, like a spacecraft. In his more fanciful moments he likened it to a UFO, spinning around the vast universe where it would eventually land on another much larger planet where human being’s would be the aliens seeking to integrate with a new species. In Henry’s opinion this world was so fragile the time was coming when it would need to search out a new, less polluted, environment.

  It would happen one day, Henry thought with certainty. When our world gave up on us, could no longer sustain itself or we destroyed it through our own inhumanity. Not in his lifetime though, and he was thankful for that; he supposed people would rather bury their heads in the sand than face such a momentous reality. Who wanted to know they were living under the shadow of such a catastrophe? No-one.

  Henry chuckled to himself. Except him, he’d talk about it to anyone who would listen. Of course during the course of his research over the decades he’d been visited several times by polite young men in dark suits who had advised him to find another hobby, but he’d declined their offer, saying if they weren’t hiding anything they’d got nothing to concern themselves about.

  They left him alone, especially as he’d grown older. He wasn’t much of a threat to them, never had been really, because however much he went on about the earth being flat only a handful of people believed him and they knew that.

  Of course he had his followers, especially since he’d discovered the Internet, but generally they were considered geeks, though in reality they were intelligent young people who could see further than their noses. He cherished them, their enthusiasm kept him going. They were willing to listen, eager to understand, what more could he ask for?

  Tomorrow he was meeting one of them. Brett. He was arriving with three of his friends for a day boat trip on Henry’s small craft, Ark of Hope. Henry had been in touch with the young man for almost a year, back and forth on the internet with ideas, now they were finally meeting.

  He was excited, nervous even; it had been a long time since he’d invited anyone onto his boat, into his life. Of course they could have met at the Bay cafe but Brett had seemed keen on the idea of a boat trip and Henry was proud of the Ark of Hope.

  He wanted everything to be in order. Brett and his friends were travelling from a small village in Staffordshire, England, to Bermuda where he lived. They’d arranged to stay three nights at the small hotel Henry had suggested near Elbow Beach, close to where he kept his boat.

  Brett was an enigma. Twenty seven years old and unlike most of Henry’s followers, he wasn’t an academic. Having never gone through the university system he had instead come to exactly the same conclusion as Henry about the flat earth theory through his own research. And Henry recognised in him a fellow enthusiast, someone who truly believed. The young man asked all the right questions and although Henry would have liked him to have been a bit more forthcoming with his own ideas he still felt he and Brett were on the same wavelength.

  Henry looked around his small cabin and sighed. Papers and books littered every surface, the place looked unruly. Even though he knew where everything was he still wished he had a better system. The trouble was he didn’t trust computers. He loved the internet, the freedom it gave him to express his ideas, but for his research, paper and ink never let you down, didn’t suddenly blip and wipe out all your work.

  Of course over the years he’d learnt the basics, even set up his own website, and he did enjoy the freedom of being able to pass his research on to anyone willing to read it. The internet was after all a wonderful tool to tell your story to the world, unlike his lectures which were often attended by just a handful of bored students.

  Though he considered himself a stranger to orderliness, Henry was sensible enough to save onto a memory stick every few paragraphs; he’d learnt the hard way the error of his ways when whole chapters of his work suddenly disappeared because his battery had died or his battered old laptop decided to glip for fun.

  He didn’t know much about the three friends Brett was bringing with him. It was doubtful they held the same beliefs, for them it was just about a day out, part of their holiday. But that was okay with him, it would be nice to have the company, for a short while anyway.

  Henry stood up and stretched. Sometimes h
is tired old bones creaked; giving him fair warning they’d had enough sitting around for one day. It was time to go home. He grimaced slightly; home was a bit of an exaggeration. He lived above the Bay’s local bait shop in three rooms, one of which was a small bathroom. It was untidy with his research books and papers over every surface of his living room but that’s how he liked it.

  He rarely had visitors or socialised; occasionally Duncan who ran the bait shop would persuade him to lend a hand behind the counter for a couple of hours in return for a few beers that evening. The problem for Henry was that all Duncan was interested in was fishing, and having to keep sympathising over the rising cost of maggots could get a bit boring after a couple of hours. When he’d tried to engage Duncan in a conversation about his flat earth theory he’d received an amused chuckle and told off for drinking too much.

  The Professor had little time for the niceties of life but as much as he would have preferred to have spent all his time on his boat he knew it wasn’t practical. It seemed the postal service and bank required him to have an actual address.

  As usual he walked around his boat, Ark of Hope, checking everything was in place. He’d bought a couple of extra cushions from his home to make the small seating area look a bit more colourful, something he believed young women liked.

  Henry smiled remembering the day he’d purchased the boat, fifteen years ago. It had taken most of his savings but it had been worth it. It was a thirty foot long motorised craft with an outboard engine. It slept two people comfortably, even had a two ring cooker and tiny sink. Moored in the bay, Henry did most of his work in the front cabin.

  He was writing a book. The book he’d planned for all his life, everything he knew, had learned about the earth being flat. It was to be his legacy to the world; he just hoped he’d live long enough to complete it. It was doubtful Brett would have much time to look it over but Henry was looking forward to showing it to him.

  He hoped the young man would ask intelligent questions and not be dismissive. It was one thing exchanging messages in cold black and white words, but face to face there had to be honesty. He was used to the shutters coming down when he talked about his pet theory but this was different. Brett had seemed genuinely interested otherwise he wouldn’t have invited him onto his boat.

  Henry had never married and never sired children, sometimes a source of sadness to him as he grew older. His life had been selfish; he acknowledged that, his research had by its nature been time consuming, leaving little time for relationships to flourish.

  Of course there’d been relationships but they hadn’t lasted long, he hadn’t been able to give enough time and attention to the details of courtship, his mind always elsewhere.

  He didn’t lecture any more either, mainly because he wasn’t asked, it seemed his far out theories had worn thin in the university faculty; he was old news, best forgotten. He’d become a doddery old fool whispered about during boring lectures, a figure of ridicule. He was aware he’d built a reputation for being a mad Professor, which he wasn’t entirely unhappy about; it meant his name would forever be linked with the flat earth theory he’d spent his life trying to prove.

  Thank God for young intelligent men like Brett, Henry thought, at least there would be someone ready to continue carrying the candle of knowledge forward.

  Robbie slapped Brett’s head with a wet towel as he jumped out of the shower.

  “For Christ’s sake!” Brett glared at him. “Grow up. Robbie. That hurt.”

  “Temper. You’d better hurry up, stop admiring your body in the mirror, the girl’s are waiting.”

  Brett looked around the small hotel room and wrinkled his nose. He’d hoped for something better. Cassie hadn’t looked too excited either, he thought. When you enthused to someone about a hotel overlooking the beach it was understandable they’d expect something better than a small cramped bedroom and tiny shower cubicle. It was all right for Robbie, Brett thought grimly, he and Jade's room next door was bigger, luck of the draw.

  He flexed his muscles, pleased his time at the gym hadn’t been wasted. Robbie was right, he had been admiring himself in the mirror but now it was time to get dressed. He chose a grey t-shirt to go with his jeans. The weather wasn’t looking too good; blocking out the sun were ominous black clouds that were rolling into the Bay, a dark stormy umbrella that didn’t bode well for a boat trip. Brett shrugged it off, assuming it would pass over. He was looking forward to some serious sun bathing.

  His dirty blonde hair fell across his forehead giving a boyish charm to his looks. He was twenty seven, several years out of college with an IT degree and ran his own internet business, buying and selling specialized Chinese and Japanese artwork to select and serious collectors around the world. Tracking the items down was fascinating and though he could have chosen the more usual route of working for a big company this was proving far more interesting and lucrative.

  Annoyed, he rubbed off a wet patch from his cheek where Robbie’s towel had found its mark. His friend could be so childish sometimes.

  “I don’t know how Jade puts up with you,” he grumbled.

  “Simple, she loves me, and guess what? I’ve got a ring ready and waiting in the bottom of my sock drawer.”

  “You’re going to propose?” Brett stared at his friend in amazement. “You kept that quiet.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” Robbie beamed. “Jade’s the love of my life.”

  “Have you told her that?”

  “Don’t need to, she knows.”

  Brett shook his head in wonder. “So tell me again,” he said, “why you’re using my shower and not your own? You’ve already got the better room.”

  Robbie sighed. “Brown smelly water. Your new friend the mad Professor didn’t exactly book us into a posh hotel, did he?”

  “It’s not his fault,” Brett was defensive. “He practically lives on his boat. He did his best.” He slipped his new t-shirt over his head and wriggled his arms through. “Anyway, we’re getting a free trip out on a boat today; I’m looking forward to it.” He smirked, “You should be thanking me, I’ve got to spend my time with the Professor while you and the girls sunbathe. In my book that makes me a hero.”

  Robbie was looking at him strangely. “You don’t really believe that crap about the earth being flat, do you?”

  Brett raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t say stuff like that to Professor Bunting, not while we’re eating his scones and enjoying his hospitality.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.” Robbie grinned. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a free day out on a boat, but while me and the girl’s are taking in the sights and wonders of the Bermuda Triangle what will you be doing? Pinpointing on the map where the world ends?”

  “Less of the sarcasm please, let’s just say I’ve got an open mind. I’ve read a lot of the Professor’s work, he plays a good game, got an answer for everything and it’s intriguing the way he makes his theories fit neatly into what he believes.” Brett rubbed aftershave on his cheeks. “It’s interesting; he doesn’t allow anything to get in the way of his belief. That’s why he invited me here; he thinks he’s found a fellow worshipper of the flat earth theory.” He laughed. “I’ll just go along with everything while you and the girl’s enjoy your day out.”

  “What does Cassie think about it?” Robbie was curious. He couldn’t imagine Cassie worrying about the flat earth theory. Conservation and ecology went over her head, and when it had been suggested to her by a friend that the makeup she wore wasn’t correctly sourced or approved, she just assumed they were jealous of her pretty face. And it was indeed a pretty face, Robbie thought, carefully crafted with the most extensive range of products used daily and liberally. Her blonde hair was forever being woven into plaits or a pony tail, or lengthened by strange curly hairpieces. Waiting for her to get ready for an evening out was a nightmare. She always kept them simmering while she put the finishing touches to her face, hair, fingernails and toenails. The list just wen
t on. Even Jade, her best friend, found herself getting impatient with her.

  Robbie smiled to himself. Jade was different from Cassie. She had short brown hair, always tidy and she hardly ever wore makeup. She didn’t need it, her skin was flawless much to the dismay of Cassie who spent a fortune on face creams, her cheeks still managing to look blotchy after a third glass of wine. Robbie thought he was lucky to have Jade, most of the girls he knew went for hunks with muscles, like Brett, and not small boned long haired wannabe’s who looked like throwbacks from the 1960’s.

  Jade assured him he was fine just the way he was and who was he to argue? She didn’t seem to mind that he worked in his dad’s garage, had done since he left school at sixteen, and it didn’t bother her that he wasn’t ambitious, that taking over his dad’s garage eventually was the most he aspired to. It seemed she loved him just the way he was. He was one lucky guy.

  “Cassie doesn’t care,” Brett was saying. “She thinks it’s nice I’ve got a little hobby, her words.” He grinned, unable to resist adding, “And she’d rather I researched stuff on the internet than spend all my time hunting for fool’s gold with a sad little metal detector, someone’s cast off bought on eBay.”

  Robbie scowled. He loved his metal detector. He’d actually found a few nice pieces over the years and he kept everything, even the tin cans. “You should try it sometime,” he told his friend. “You might find it relaxing. It would calm you down after humping those dumbbells around.”

  Brett ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t need to relax, pal, what I need is adventure.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to find it messing about on a boat with an old man.”

  “We’ll see.” Brett glanced at his watch as he headed for the door. “Time to go, we don’t want to keep the Professor waiting.”

  Cassie and Jade were in the hotel reception area as Brett and Robbie made their way down the stairs.