Once Upon an Alien
Note 1: This text is an excerpt from 'A View of History', published by O'Malley & Johnson, Copyright 12/04/2096 CE, Pages 311 - 626. Recommended for ages 11 and above.
Note 2: A 'View of History' disclaimer - The text 'A View of History', was compiled using logs, journals, and recorded firsthand accounts. Both human and Anunna sources were used to ensure as much accuracy as possible, and updates to the text are made as they become available.
Note 3: The excerpts used from 'A View of History' were derived from multiple sources. The primary source was the partial journal of Professor M. C. R. Frost. Portions of his original journal were lost due to a book burning frenzy during the Crazy Time. Journals from his interns were used to 'fill in the blanks', as one researcher phrased it. Corrections to 'A View of History' will be made as new sources become available.
Note 4: Anunna starship logs, and reports from on-planet mining operations lasting over a thirty-four thousand year period, confirmed the portions of 'A View of History' that had been debated by skeptics. Access to the logs and reports was made available by the remnants of the Anunna High Council approximately fifty Terran years after The Awakening. Dates will be expressed in an earth standard for simplicity. Anunna date keeping would have no point of reference for humans. Explanations will be provided when it is assumed the reader's knowledge may be insufficient. It is important to understand that humans translated and summarized the logs for the following text.
Note 5: Recent advances in high energy physics and string theory have, the scientists believe, enabled them to send inorganic items into the past. Despite governmental bans and the danger of creating an alternate timeline, a non-governmental group of scientists has decided to send a book into the past. Their reason and rationale for this action is to prevent loss of life during the 'Crazy Time'. If the experiment in sending an inorganic object back in time is successful, I pray that whoever finds the text uses the information wisely. Beware the Viper learning that you possess our text. His bite will destroy you, your family, and any friends that are aware of the existence of our text.
I closed the vents in my home office to save on cooling costs, and I closed the door as I left the room. I remember that I had a smile a mile wide. It was Thursday afternoon, and my wife and I were leaving on a three day vacation that we needed bad. We were both excited about the prospect of three days of rest and relaxation in a five star resort on the gulf coast. I had to call in some favors to get the reservations on a holiday weekend. I didn't hesitate. We really deserved this vacation.
It took nearly an hour to finish packing, and get everything loaded in our five year old Ford Taurus. We were making up silly phrases, and singing them to the tune of 'Off to see the Wizard', as we fastened our seat belts and I started the car. I began backing the car, and stopped at the sidewalk to look both ways for traffic.
That is when our house exploded. Not the whole thing. Only the western half of the house exploded. Boards, glass, and personal belongings that we had spent eight years accumulating, slammed into our car. The windshield cracked, and the passenger side back window had a hole in it.
My wife and I stared at the house in disbelief, unable to understand what just happened. There was no fire. There was no smoke. Just a shattered house, and it was obvious that it was shattered from the inside.
I hurriedly put the car into park, slammed the car door open and began running towards the house. I was still trying to understand what had happened, and why it happened.
"Don't go in there, Jim," my wife screamed behind me. "You don't know what caused it, and it might happen again."
Because I was still in shock, I didn't listen.
I no longer had to use a door to enter the house. I walked over a flattened wall trying to comprehend the destruction that I was seeing. It was easy to see the epicenter of whatever had caused this disaster. Whatever catastrophe had created the explosion was centered in my office, on my desk to be exact.
All the walls, at the western end of my house, inside and out, had been flattened outward from my desk, but the desk itself had been flattened straight down. It looked like a giant hand had smashed a confection in the shape of a desk, and flattened it into the ground. The stout, oak legs of the desk had been splintered under the impact, with such force, that little more than sawdust and splinters remained. The oak desktop had been shattered like a plate made of bone china.
A book, one that I had never seen before, lay in the center of the shattered desktop. It was a grey, metallic color, with a stylized symbol of an ankh on the cover. There were no words for a title, or anything identifying an author. I touched it gingerly before picking it up, because faint tendrils of smoke, or mist, were wavering around it. The book felt ice cold in my hands. It felt like metal, but felt much lighter than that volume of metal could account for. The book was approximately six inches by nine inches, and about two inches thick. My first surprise, when I opened the book, was the pages. They weren't made of paper. They looked like the same type of metal as the cover, but they were as smooth and flexible as silk. The second surprise was the writing. It was in English.
I could hear sirens in the distance, so I walked back to my car. I put the book in the car before I gathered my wife in my arms. That is how the firemen and police found us. I'm not sure why, but I didn't mention the book to them.
We stayed in a hotel that night, but it wasn't the resort we were looking forward to. We were exhausted when we finally checked into a Holiday Inn on the outskirts of Dallas, just a few miles from our home, or what was left of our home. It was nearly midnight before we got to bed, but as tired as I was, I still couldn't sleep. I opened the strange book that had destroyed my house. I wondered again at the strange metal the book was made of. Then I began reading, and that is how I greeted the Fourth of July, 2015, as the clock rolled past midnight. By dawn, I was chilled nearly as much as the book had been when I first picked it up.
I wondered if there was any truth in the book. Then I looked at my sleeping wife, and wondered how to protect her from what was coming. I realized that I believed what I had read. My dilemma was, how do I get this book into the hands of someone that can make a difference, and change the future that is waiting for mankind.