“That's cloud seeding, isn’t it?” Storm asked.
“It is a little more complex than that,” Martyn told him. “Just think about the quantity of moisture that ends up in the upper atmosphere through evaporation. You are aware of the enormous increase in rainfall everywhere around the globe and the resulting floods?”
“They say it's because of climate change, and that climate change is because of smoke from our cars and the factories,” Storm offered proudly. He was keen to show he did keep up with the news.
“Human activity is not the underlying reason for the rapid change in your climate. Human activity does not excite the core of the planet. Earth's rapidly heating core points to the real culprit. As Earth's core expands, the skin of the planet stretches. Magma bursts up through fracture points in the crust. Volcanic activity on the sea floor causes increasing evaporation. So you must ask what has caused the planet's core to behave in this way. The reason for Earth's heating core, its warming oceans, the melting polar ice, the extreme weather, all of it, is not walking the surface of the planet. Did you know, Earth's scientists have observed the same phenomena happening throughout the solar system? Right there, you can see the hole in the official story of global warming. The real reason Earth is heating so rapidly is found in outer space, and not so far away. Now, what did you order for your lunch?”
“Steak,” Storm reminded him. “And I asked for it to be well-done.”
“Oh, yes, you did too,” Martyn said and frowned. “I am tired, yet the day is young.”
Storm realized with a start, he was no longer surprised by the endless strangeness of Martyn.
“The main aim of geoengineering that you can see in the sky is to delay the impact of the increasing radiation Earth receives as the system draws closer,” Martyn continued. “The increasing electrical magnetic transmission excites the metallic core of Earth, causing it to rapidly expand, which means it produces more heat. Another reason the elites have turned the planet's sky into one big screen is to conceal what the world's populations would otherwise see. The sky functions as an enormous holographic display. A true cinema of the masses if you like.
“You see—the elites are nothing if not opportunists. An interesting thing happens when nanoparticles of moisture mix with particles of aluminum, barium oxide, and strontium. Plasma is produced. They are getting better at it all the time. They use drones to place vast quantities of ionized metallic salts in the stratosphere. Do you understand?”
“No—I don't get what you are talking about,” Storm said, shaking his head. “Plasma?”
“Plasma is the fourth state of matter. That's what you are taught in high school. Isn't that so? Plasma is not a solid, a liquid, or a gas. It's all three together, and it's the most common form of matter in space. They have surrounded the world with man-made plasma. But, it’s a short-term solution and nothing more.”
Unable to forget a single sentence, Storm’s brain was rapidly ordered it so it could make better sense of it all. It was exhausting work.
Martyn didn't seem to care that he was overloading his guest and continued the lecture without a break, pressing on, harder and faster.
“Lightning is a natural form of plasma. And, you have the Aurora Borealis in the Northern Hemisphere and the Aurora Australis in the Southern Hemisphere. Nikola Tesla experimented with electromagnetism and technology. He would have liked to illuminate the entire atmosphere of the planet. He suggested applying electromagnetic energy to plasma at an altitude of some thirty-five thousand feet. The elites have adopted Tesla's vision and applied it to their own.”
“How does it work?” Storm asked, no longer wanting to eat the steak in front of him.
“Think about why most observatories are built away from populated areas,” Martyn replied. “Why not build them closer to where scientific research centers are located in the cities?”
Storm shrugged. “I guess there's too much pollution from cars.”
“Dig deeper!” Martyn snapped. “You can do better than this! Amateur astronomers encounter two forms of pollution: light and particles! By drawing from the work of Tesla, the elites are able to brighten the plasma in our atmosphere. They turn on the light to give you a blue, red, or gray sky if they want. And—when they can't cover-up unwanted phenomena using a single technology, they use all their technologies together.”
“I get they brighten the sky to cover up things,” Storm told him, rising to the challenge. “Like a bright blue sky hides the Moon in daylight unless you were looking really hard.”
“Yes,” Martyn replied, looking relieved that Storm understood. “They brighten the sky to cover illuminations from space visible on the surface of Earth. For lesser light sources, they only need a dense cloud mass. Again, by harnessing the moisture in the atmosphere evaporated from the warming oceans, that is, by using a lesser level of technology. For phenomena they find impossible to hide, they simply put out a news release that explains the oddity away. They have been using news releases to prepare you all for what is coming for many years now.”
29
Jubilee Year
The boy sat before the giant, barely aware of the cacophony of noise from below the mezzanine floor. He was only aware of Martyn, who sat back in his chair as though his stomach was full. Yet Storm had not seen him eat a thing.
“There are elites who have control over your life. I am not talking about politicians. I mean the few who control them. The old families, who gained power and privilege over hundreds of years, moving across continents, collecting then merging until they formed their own social, economic, and political layer. A species apart from the rest of you. They prefer to think of themselves like that. Separate from, and above the mass of humanity. At times they form alliances and frequently they go to war with one another. All the while they hide in full view, manipulating you, playing you against yourselves, and preying on you.
“They own the largest banks, the major corporations, and the best real estate. As a single layer of groups, they own the world. They distrust each other and they are afraid of you. Earth's populations once again threaten to rebel against their ruling families. The elites are terrified of losing control. They are very afraid of the masses.”
Martyn closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he gazed at Storm with an intensity that burned through him.
“This coming event is unstoppable. The elites know they can't avoid the catastrophe. So they have chosen to play it to their advantage. Knowledge is the essence of power and control and they have had millennia to accumulate it. They have access to the most important ancient libraries mankind has known and forgotten. They continue to feed you lies. They manipulate you to do their will. They destroy you to reap wealth and even more power. They are never satisfied.”
Storm thought of Stella's warning of war on the horizon.
“War is already here,” Martyn said suddenly. “Economic collapse is here.”
“Did I say that out loud?” Storm said, staring at Martyn in surprise.
Martyn waved the interruption aside. “Every war that appears to have ended, starts yet another. If you were able to see history as a never-ending chain of cause and effect over a long enough period, you would quickly understand there is nothing at all that happens by chance alone. Certainly not where humans are involved. The elites are the masters of your delusion. For hundreds of years, they fed humans fables mixed with partial truths. They marvel at how, over time, continuing the charade only became easier and easier.”
“Why should they do that?” Storm asked. The question was given to him, and he knew he did not want to hear the answer.
“The world is about to face an event that's happened many times before. It has been known as a Jubilee. A time when all debts are wiped away. Did you know you that they always ensure you are in debt to them? They offer a handful of you amnesty but the price is always more than can be afforded. The elites intend the world's population to remain ignorant of the coming event until the last p
ossible moment. There will be nothing any of you can do to alter your fate.”
“And where are you in all this?”
Martyn's face became inscrutable as the mask on an actor in a Noh theatre drama.
“Yes, I am in the picture too,” he said. He took a long sip from his glass. “I have been for a long while.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“I want to watch you survive, Storm,” Martyn said with a look of sincerity.
The tables were emptying below them as the members moved back into the debating chamber. Martyn had fallen quiet. He might have been meditating. His eyes were staring through Storm without seeming to see.
“What are you doing?” Storm said, unable to take the silence or the unblinking eyes any longer.
Martyn's blinked slowly again and poured from the decanter. This time he took several gulps. He said nothing for a moment before he lifted his head. It was the bewildered stare of someone who had awoken from a trance. It lasted only a short while, then he snapped into the present.
“You will have to forgive me. During this time of great change, it seems I am unable to sustain extended periods of animation. This has been a long day for me.”
Storm had no idea what Martyn was talking about.
Martyn waved a hand in a gesture that as much as said it didn’t matter.
“I was talking about the survival of this planet and all life on it, and I must warn you. Planet Earth will not take much more of this kind of beating. This is really an inherently unstable planet. And yet here we all are...”
Storm realized it was the very first time he had seen him do that. It was a slow blink. The way a lizard might in the early morning sunlight.
“The magnetosphere twists and breaks...” Martyn said. He paused to swallow the remainder of his water before plunging back into his lecture as if nothing had happened.
“In turn, the biosphere must collapse or adapt. Either way, it means the end of this world. A great change is about to take place. Most life forms will become extinct. Including, perhaps the human race, but we shall see.” He sighed. “I can do only so much.”
Hoots and howls of laughter from the last table of members were followed by exaggerated hushing sounds.
Storm gazed over the rail at the empty chairs and at a table strewn with empty bottles of champagne and the remains of a birthday cake. The last of the diners were leaving the restaurant.
Martyn glowered at the stragglers from his chair. “They consider themselves beyond the reach of the majority,” he sneered. “The elites they serve consider themselves overlords who rule by divine right. Such a cluster of insularity cannot form overnight. It takes millennia. But, I assure you they are all pawns. The lawn outside this building is full of ant nests. Tiny creatures living their lives oblivious to the existence of a far more advanced world. The ants have queens, soldiers, and workers and they know nothing of a downfall of rain until they are flushed from their tiny tunnels. When the flood comes they all discover they are nothing but ants.”
He leaned across the table in a faux-conspiratorial manner. “Consider what I'm about to tell you as a parting gift. You asked me about the event. Listen carefully.”
Storm shivered. He didn't want to know any more of what Martyn had to tell him.
“Erelong—the proximity of a passing star and its orbitals will cause Earth's surface crust to shift. There will be earthquakes of unimaginable size and scale. Tidal waves will wash over much of the surface. Mountains will rise overnight. A plume of oxygen atoms will be sucked from the planet's magnetic grip. The very air you breathe will all but vanish. And it will happen in a very short time. A day. A night. The atmosphere will quickly return to levels that allow life to return to the surface, but most of the larger life forms will have perished. This is what you must prepare for. To avoid the worst of it.”
“How?”
“Go inland and go underground.”
“For how long?” Storm asked.
“I don't know—the removal of a large part of the atmosphere means ozone will also be lost. Natural ozone protects life on the surface from cosmic rays that contribute to aging, disease, cancers, and early death far more than your scientists realize. With a massively depleted atmosphere, even for a short time, there will be a large increase in the quantity of deuterium in water. Heavy water means death to life. The cells in living organisms cease to function. Plants will quickly die off. Your elites have prepared seed vaults and nurseries deep underground. They understand they will be able to replant. They know the planet will survive even if most of the population does not.”
“But they haven't warned us, have they?” Storm asked in disbelief.
“Not in any meaningful way. They realize it is in their own interests to see a number of you survive, of course! Without the masses, they themselves don't exist. Their preference is for the world population to be what they would consider a controllable number.”
“How does the world survive this kind of disaster?” Storm asked.
“Erelong—the situation self-corrects. Rivers from the melting ice flow directly into the oceans and as a result, the amount of light water increases. A faster correction would require technological intervention. And—if the worst happens help will be offered.
“This is a tenacious world. One that is worthy of respect. The event never happens exactly the same way every time this star passes. These things never go exactly as predicted. Above all else—you must take action and prepare. This is vital! Otherwise, the only survivors will be those monkeys who think themselves gods.”
Martyn hesitated as if he was searching his memory for one more important piece of information he must give.
“I enjoyed our talk, Storm. Davenport will see you to the airport and onto your plane to Tamworth. I wish you a safe flight home.”
He gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes like a man who was utterly exhausted, not even opening them at the sound of a cough close by.
Storm turned his head and saw that Davenport was standing at the top of the stairs waiting for him.
30
Running Home
On the way to the airport, Storm barely noticed Davenport's silence. The things Martyn Boas had told him made sense, in a one-plus-one-equals-two kind of way. Yet, the story was as fantastic as any Storm might imagine during one of his runs through town in the early hours.
He considered asking Davenport what he thought about Martyn, but the man had seemed preoccupied ever since they left Parliament House.
Arriving at the domestic terminal, Davenport slid the car neatly into a gap between two buses. He pressed a switch under the dash and Storm saw the reflection of flashing red and blue off the shiny surface of the bus. When he stepped onto the sidewalk he saw the flashing lights came from behind the Commodore's front grill.
Once they inside the building, Davenport paused before the check-in counter to study the announcements on the departure screen.
“Bad luck,” he said. “Looks like your flight to Tamworth has been canceled.”
Storm stared at the red text and groaned. He had been looking forward to meeting Penny at the airport. They had planned on dinner together in Tamworth and a stopover at a motel on the way back to Coona. “I guess I'm stuck with a bus,” he said in frustration.
He turned away from the display board to see Davenport was talking quietly into his cell phone.
“Well, it looks like this is your lucky day,” Davenport said when he finished his conversation. “Mr. Boas' office organized a plane for you.”
“That quick?” Storm asked.
“It looks like you impressed him,” Davenport replied with a tight smile. “I'll drive you to the hangar.”
“I gotta take a leak,” Storm told him.
“The toilets are past those shops,” Davenport said pointing the way. “Don't take too long.”
He hurried past a busy bar filled with customers dressed in suits and ties and pressed skirts, gathered like so many
magpies perched on high-chromed stools. A news broadcast on the television above their heads had captured their attention.
Storm caught the words of the anchorman as he walked out of the restroom.
“Fire services report several of the observatories are badly damaged. We have no news as yet on the whereabouts or condition of several workers known to be at the site at the time of the fire. We go now to Karen Phillips at Siding Spring.”
He stopped to listen when he heard the last two words. The reporter was talking in urgent tones over the noise of sirens, helicopters, and exploding eucalyptus trees.
“Once again, Australia's most famous observatory has been struck by a bushfire. This time, it looks to have lost the battle. The disastrous blaze struck early in the day. Emergency teams have been able to enter the area only in the past few hours. While we can confirm there is extensive damage, the fate of all the scientists and technicians is not known at this stage. Unfortunately, we can report that we have seen a number of bodies airlifted from the scene by emergency vehicles.”
Storm's mind was a blur. Mount Woorat was already ablaze when he left Parliament House? Surely Davenport knew? And why had Martyn not mentioned the fire?
Storm remained frozen in the corridor, his heart pounding as travelers hurried past to empty their bladders before their planes departed. He found himself gazing down at a child with a teddy bear hanging from one hand staring back at him.
“Katie!” A woman called out as she grabbed the child's free hand and whisked her away. “What on earth are you doing?” She said to the child.
She gave Storm a worried glance over her shoulder and hurried off.
He thought quickly as unease turned to dread. There was no sense in panicking, he told himself and he looked around for an escape route. The toilets were located either side of the short corridor where he was standing. The corridor ended in locked double doors. There would be no way through them without a security keycard, and Davenport would be looking for him soon enough.
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