The Planetary Mystery
BANNON EAS’ OFFICE
“Come in, Dr. Kizzie.” She is standing in his doorway. “Take a seat.” He points toward the most comfortable chair in the room. “How long did you plan?”
“Take all the time needed—I’ve nothing else scheduled. I committed the day to learning more about your area.”
She seats her petite body and gets to the topic. “Show me the telemetry from Goliath you mentioned. Also, continue with the rest of your update.”
Eas moves his computer and a book of sky charts to the side of his desk. He points to a table in the corner. “I think we should sit here.”
“Okay.” She picks up the briefcase. “The location is fine.”
He relocates after buzzing his assistant. “We need a thermos of Kava, mugs, and some snacks, please. Are any activities programmed the balance of the day?”
“One at 1500 with Dr. Leland—”
“Give him my apologies and reschedule him. I don’t wish to be disturbed for the remainder of the day. She and I’ll be covering a large volume of material. Plan a catered lunch for us and you also.” He did not arrange this meeting, but she is willing to spend the time, and he will not miss the opportunity.
Her curiosity is high. This knowledge is now part of her responsibility. She walks across the room. Her eyes scan the individual who, for a brief time, became her adversary. He is a short, stocky, but muscular, man with dark complexion and black hair. His attire is meticulous, and every hair is in place. Bannon carries himself with pride and confidence. I hope he will be a strong ally.
“Tell me about you. I want to get acquainted with my staff on a personal and professional basis.” Her tone is soft and disarming.
“The mountain region of Sukish is my birth place. My parents work in the food-processing plant. My mother works in the texturing area, and my father operates a processing machine, which removes the toxins and non-essentials from meat products. I worked a part-time job at the facility during my last two years in the academy. At the university, my studies concentrated on physics, specifically the segment that deals with a study of the universe, celestial bodies, and the related sciences.” He is not comfortable and rushes his self-portrayal.
“My last term at school, I became a member of a focus group headed by Dr. Zea. He took a special interest in me and helped me get into the Ministry of Astronomy. I met my wife during the final year, and we unified about eleven months later. My son’s an assembler at The Dome. He specializes in welding. My daughter’s in her first semester at the university. She’s interested in general science. You endured the summary,” he says and begins opening the book of stellar charts. “Let’s start here.” He turns to an old black-and-white chart of a section of the galaxy unfamiliar to her.
“Tell me about you. Tell me your special interests besides work and family.”
“I’m a history buff. I enjoy studying ancient texts. I’m also part of a group trying to translate some obscure antique documents on display at the Abydos Museum—this chart—”
“Don’t go so fast. Tell me about these old documents—sounds intriguing.”
“We don’t enjoy much success at this point. The material and ink used are foreign to Nibiru. The text is unlike anything we’ve seen, and so far, no one’s found the translation key.”
“The mystery continues—” He now controls Kizzie’s interest on two fronts. “I want to learn more, but we need to move on. Now—back to the maps.
“This is a schematic of our section of the cosmos and our solar system twenty-five thousand years ago. Do you recognize this dot?” he points to a speck on the document. “Now gaze at its association to us.”
“Okaaaay—” She does not comprehend the relevance.
Mr. Eas turns to the next sheet. “The entity here is ten millennium later. Can you distinguish its relationship to our part of the galaxy?”
“Yes,” she says, but she still does not understand the significance.
Bannon flips to a third graphic. This is of the same section of space of the previous two. “They’re a snapshot every ten millenary. Can you spot our boogie now?”
“Yes, the item is closer to our planet—a meteorite or comet perhaps?”
“No, a planet of almost equal size to Nibiru—can you detect anything else?”
“Our system and the item are coming closer. Are we on a collision course?”
“Ma’am, you discovered the mystery.” He turns to the fourth map, and the trend continues. “Each additional page shows the speck getting even nearer to our solar system—and the record ends. A near miss is possible. We can hope the archeologists turn up more data. Geologists tell us at about the same time major geological upheavals happened all over our world. The evidence also indicates the planet passed close enough to affect our magnetic poles, the tilt of Nibiru, and made our orbit more elliptical. About the same time, our fourth moon disappeared.”
She leans back in her chair with a mystified expression on her face. Her mind is racing—she tries to assimilate what she viewed and overheard.
Someone knocks on the door. “Come in.”
His assistant enters with a tray containing the Kava and munchies. “Thank you.”
“I rescheduled your appointment with Dr. Leland. Do you need anything else, sir?”
“No. We’re good for now.”
Bannon and Kizzie sit in silence while she tries to make sense of the new knowledge.
“Something to drink?”
“Yes, please.”
He fills two mugs and offers her the tray of snacks.
“The beverage will be fine.”
STUDENT SOCIAL
Relo and Rue returned from The Dome with instructions for Kraymer. The two of them search their rooms for listening devices, and they find them in both. They hurry across the frigid courtyard to the Student Social. Upon entering, they spot Jaan sitting alone in a remote area, and walk, without distraction, to his location.
“Why the urgency?” she asks.
“Several—”
She says, “Stop—we shouldn’t be talking in the open. Let’s go to my room.” Outside and the three of them, she explains to him, they swept her apartment, and no cameras exist, but they found several audio bugs. “I didn’t turn off the encryption transmitter when I left.”
“An encryption transmitter…?”
“A device Relo and I built to override all sounds in a room with an electronic nothingness. Regardless of what’s happening inside the room, the listening devices transmit silence.” A hint of arrogance reflects in her voice.
“Are you sure this thing works?”
“I’m positive.”
“Just the same, we’ll re-sweep the rooms and put mufflers on the bugs—far better safe than sorry.”
“Mufflers?” Relo asks.
“Yes. A muffler is a special material that absorbs all sound waves up to five thousand kilohertz. When placed over a bug, a small bomb could go off in the room, and the bug wouldn’t hear it.”
When inside and the rooms scanned again, they find no new bugs. Jaan carefully places a muffler over each. “Now we can talk freely.”
“Okay, about what?” Rue shifts from one foot to the other with a sigh.
He explains the ‘Dirt Dig’. “You two must be careful—”
A sudden chill rushes through Rue’s body when she considers the possibility of discovery. “Should we get caught, what is next?” A nervous tone is in her voice.
“We recruited a high-ranking contact at the Ministry of Law and Order. He’s on the lookout for ‘Obtain and Detain Orders’ for any of our people. Should a warrant be issued, we—The Conversant, will do everything in our power to retrieve you and transport you to one of the several safe havens. Difficult I understand, but you must act normal. Your action is critical to the plan, and you must carry out your tasks at The Dome without arousing suspicion.”
Her role as an Opaque Sister offered unchecked thrills, until now, by providing her an outlet for her defiant streak. Now, for the first time, she is frightened. The thought of imprisonment or banishment to The Hell Zone creates visions she prefers to ignore.
Perhaps Jaan will go ahead and send me to a safe haven. She tries to rationalize the next move. Fear covers her face.
Should she lose control what happens? Relo ponders.
He voices his concern. “Rue, are you up to this? We can’t let you become unstable. Your role and skill with encryption coding are invaluable to the cause. We need you.” His encouragement does little to soothe her nerves.
She retreats to the kitchenette and returns a short time later with a glass of Vino in one hand and a carafe and two glasses in the other. “Drink, anyone?” she asks. “Perhaps this’ll take the edge off.”
“I’ll pass,” Jaan says with disapproval. “I must get back, but I need to be advised when you return to The Dome?”
“Tomorrow,” he says.
“Call me should you need me.” He removes the mufflers from the bugs and eases out the door in silence.
“Give me a glass of liquid courage—are you okay?” He walks over to her while she is still standing, takes the items from her hands, places them on a table, puts his arms around her, and holds her. Her cry is muted, as he strokes her hair and whispers, “All’s going to be okay—everything’s going to be fine.”
A few moments pass, and she pulls back and pushes Relo away. She straightens her clothing and runs the fingers of both hands through her long straight auburn hair. She walks to a table and takes a tissue from a box, and blots her tears. Rue regains her composure and says, “We’ve work to do—no time for this girlie foolishness.” She traipses around the apartment for a few moments, sips her Vino, and reaches a decision. “I think we need to write off Jadan and hope he doesn’t reveal anything about our conversations. I believe his attachment to Kia Nuggen’s too dangerous—besides, he’s a pleasant and low-key individual. He might not possess what we need to work with us.”
“You could be right. We said much more than we should. Tomorrow, we need to begin uploading blocks of the original engineering files and transmitting them. Is your encryption program ready?”
“Yes.”
“I want the trial run to send the ancient code. They may not be part of the plan, but I’m anxious to find out what they are. They appear to precede the Great War.”
“I forgot those records for a time.” Rue drifts back into the conversation. “Pass on the test collection first. In case of problems, we’ll learn without giving up control of the original engineering data. We need to time the software to send them out at the end of the last day we are there. The program will transfer four hours after we leave The Dome, but no critical archives this time.”
“Sounds good to me as long as you’re okay, I’m going back to my place and get some rest. I’m exhausted, and going through more transaction logs tomorrow’s going to be another day of hell.”
“I’m all right.” Exhaustion plagues Rue, and the idea of a warm bath and sleep is appealing. “Go—I’ll meet you at the train station in the morning.”
Relo closes the door behind him, and she takes another sip of Vino. Hmm, the drink is beginning to work. Life is not so frightening now. She finishes the glass, picks up the carafe, and pours another.
She raises her beverage to her lips, and the communicator buzzes. She stares at the screen, and answers a voice call from Jadan. “Hello.” Her tongue occupies too much of her mouth.
“Rue, is he with you?”
“No, he left a few minutes ago. Why…?”
“May I come back and talk to you? I’m having difficulty sorting things out, and I need some explanations.
“Knock when you get here, the encryption transmitter is still on.”
I need some Kava. She goes to the kitchenette. Soon, the aroma of the fresh brew fills the room. She examines the apartment and begins straightening things.
He knocks, and she opens the door. He detects her puffy-red eyes. “Why are you crying?”
“No, no, no—I always appear this way after a few glasses of liquid cheer.” She lowers her head to keep him from seeing the tears continuing to pool in her eyes.
He steps inside, closing the door with his foot, and takes her chin in the palm of his right hand, lifting her face toward his. He gazes into her hazel eyes, and a flood of large drops flows down her cheeks. “Tell me the problem.” He pulls her close to him and senses her trembling in his arms.
She snuggles with her cheek pressed against his chest. His grip tightens as she begins to cry harder. They stand holding one another, and the fears melt away.
“Your perfume is like a brewery.”
She pushes back and punches him with gentleness in the stomach.
He picks her up and walks to the sofa. “I wouldn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself,” he says, detecting a muffled nervous laugh.
He sets her down and sits beside her. They sit for a short time staring into one another’s eyes. With an intuitive impulse, Jadan bends over and kisses her tear-streaked cheek. He starts to lean back, but Rue takes his cheeks in her hands and pulls his face to hers. He resists for a moment but melts into her embrace. Her lips open, and her tongue traces circles on his. Rue’s breathing becomes erratic and Jadan’s passions catch fire. One lengthy passionate kiss and things spin out of control.
Several hours later, Jadan wakes and studies her nude body, with her head on his right arm. He scrutinizes her sleeping face. Pretty—peaceful—and tantalizing. How did things get this far? This is his first time and wonderful. He moves a little, and her eyes open.
She smiles and cuddles closer to him. “Did you want to chat about something, Mr. Kanzz?” she asks with a giggle.
“Can I borrow a bottle of Vino?”
“A bit late for a heavy discussion I think. Come to my room at The Dome tomorrow evening, and we can talk.”
Jadan is looking forward to their next rendezvous as Rue drifts off. He pulls the covers over them and fades away into a peaceful sleep.
SUPREME CHANCELLOR JERKA’S OFFICE
The buzzer on his desk sounds and the voice says, “Your 0800 is here.”
“Show him in and bring some fresh Kava,” Jerka says.
He is a tall man. His nostrils are large and flared. He possesses a slit for a mouth. A potbelly hangs over his belt. His attire is uncoordinated and crumpled. He shows the appearance of someone who is on a long drunken binge, and his disposition fits the stereotype.
“Good morning, Joanz.” The gruffness in his voice sends a clear message this is not going to be a pleasant meeting. “Alright, boy, tell me what you learned. Give me the condensed version. I’m on a tight schedule.”
“Well, so far Marshon and his crew are squeaky clean. We failed to find any dirt on any of them, but we’re still looking. They can’t piss without us seeing. Now Bhril and his second in command…is a different story. He became preoccupied with the election, and Kahnn got involved with more than The Dome Project. We uncovered a triangle. He and Connee, Bhril’s wife, are a number. They slip away together, on occasion. I doubt they’re talking about her husband’s brilliant involvement with the Federation Party,” he says, pleased with himself.
“Okay, you must find dirt on the others. I want you to dig deeper—do you understand?”
He is disappointed at Jerka’s mediocre reaction to his progress. “Yes, sir, I comprehend.”
“Thank you—I’m sure you can find your way out.”
He leaves, and Jerka calls his assistant. “I want Betta Kahnn in my office in one hour. Tell him not to be late.”
The communicator on his desk buzzes. “Yes?”
“Mr. Kahnn is here.”
“Good. Send him in.”
He enters with a puzzled expression. The chancellor gets up to greet him. “Sit and I’ll come right to the point. Masta Bhril embarrassed me often in the recent campaign. I want you to give me some political dirt on him.”
“Why the hell would I do—?”
“You’re banging his wife, and you can’t afford for him to find out.”
He is stunned at the revelation. How widespread is the knowledge? The knot and nausea return and his face flushes as fear and anger battle for control.
Jerka is brash and arrogant. “I want enough dirt to take him down, and you’re going to provide what I need. Am I clear?”
“Yes,” he says, in a condescending tone.
“You want to tell me something now or shall I expect you here in five days.”
With an expression of contempt, he gets up to leave.
“My assistant will make you an appointment. Good day, Mr. Kahnn.”
The knot and queasiness are raging. Now what do I do. Someone should kill the bastard. I survive one crisis, and another comes along. I must contact Connee and inform her. He dials.
She asks, “Yes, Betta?”
“Is he home?”
“Not yet, but I’m expecting him any time—why?” She can sense the tension in Betta’s voice. “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong with a capital W—the chancellor found out about us, and he’s threatening to make the knowledge public, unless I help him bring your husband down. He wants Bhril’s head, but he needs the reason to be bad conduct and poor judgment on his part.”
After a long and silent pause, she says, “He told me last evening he plans to fire you. He must find a satisfactory replacement first. At this point, who’s going to strike the initial blow? One of you is going to be a casualty, and I’m in the middle. He’s unlocking the door—gotta go.” She hangs up and pushes the ‘Clear History’ button.
Kahnn understands things are tense between Bhril and himself, but firing...he is confident of the job defusing the chancellor about The Dome Project problems. How did he suspect the chancellor’s real agenda?
THE ESCAPADES
The room sprawls large and majestic. The sidewalls on opposite ends consist of huge one-piece mirrors creating the illusion the room goes on forever. The other walls feature the silver of brushed metal, adorned with rare artifacts. The double doors lead outside. They display translucent acrylics with elegant etching in stained wooden frames. They open onto a large stone courtyard overlooking a vegetated valley with a gigantic lake at one end fed by several small streams. Five meters away, on the same wall as the entrance, is a floor-to-ceiling single windowpane eight by ten meters. Draped across the top of the window and doors, elegant dark teal curtains hang, made of thick satin fabric with sparse gold flake glitter embedded. Every curtain suspends from two points one-fourth of the ways from each side. The ends and the center of them sag to create a stylish effect. With a touch of a remote control, they rise or lower.
The floor consists of polished natural stone. The pattern changes at random and color from minuscule sections of pure white through varying shades of gray to large patches of black. The patterns range from small splotches to exotic swirls. In the center of the room, under the chandelier, is an almost symmetrical explosion of glossy black set in a background of white. The stones create the illusion of a surface made of a single piece.
The ceiling consisting of semi-polished material supplies some reflectivity. Three meters down, in the center of the room, a chandelier, four meters in diameter hangs. The controller setting provides subdued light variations in intensity.
At one end, a spiral staircase leads to a large balcony overlooking the room below. The decoration of the area mimics the lower level except the floor, which shows similar patterns to the first, but the stones range in color from pale beige to dark chocolate through various shades of tans, bronzes, rusts, and browns. Acrylic handrails illuminate with a hint of blue and line the stairs. Several closed doors lead into private sitting rooms, a library, and bedrooms surround a large central bath with an enormous hot tub and sauna.
All the furnishings rest against the walls, to allow uninterrupted movement of the guests. Tables placed in strategic locations feature delicacies and beverages.
The location is the supreme chancellor’s palace, his private residence, which surpasses the government, provided estate.
The chatter abounds as the multitude mingles. Jerka’s social gathering spotlights the most powerful of the Annunaki hierarchy. Milda’s birth celebration attracted a large group. A Blood, and daughter of a NEX, she masters the art of planning an extravagant party.
Much younger than the chancellor and quite a socialite, she enjoys the good life. Nevertheless, for political purposes, she seldom leaves The Escapades. Like most Annunaki women, tall and slender with blond hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, smooth complexion, and a sensuous body, she displays an air of superciliousness.
Milda, wearing a floor length, crimson red, sleeveless gown exposing her shoulders preens for the crowd. The front tapers above her breasts to a narrow strip, which forms a collar around her neck. An oval opening shows a daring amount of cleavage. Her exposed back reaches from the waist to her diamond necklace. The garment, made of a silky material, flows with elegant grace while she moves. The bottom flares from the waistline down with a tantalizing slit up the front to above her left knee and shows her gold metal flake left-shoe. Her medium-length hair forms a swirl on top, accented with a ribbon of the same fabric as the well-designed dress. A gold link chain adorns each wrist.
The day boasts two highlights. This twilight, before sunset, a rare lunar eclipse takes place. Goliath and the Sisters become visible together in the late afternoon and evening sky. The extraordinary incident adds to the spectacle, all three moons cross the face of the setting sun before sundown. At one point, the star encases all three. The occurrence happens once every four hundred and thirty years.
Around the neck of each guest, hangs a pair of exceptional glasses, designed for viewing the event. Milda’s generosity is evident. A link chain of pure gold suspends the spectacles and a metal tag highlighting the date, the eclipses, and her birth celebration.
How fitting this is happening on my special evening. She surveys the prestigious crowd from the balcony.
“An imposing affair, Chancellor—an impressive gathering of important people in one room,” the guest says as he walks up to Jerka from his blind side.
The chancellor turns to acknowledge. “I’m pleased you came, Raefell—you’ve been away too long.”
“Far too long—how’s the family?”
“They’re fine. Thank you for asking.”
Raefell goes straight to the subject. “Is The Dome Project back on schedule?”
“Not yet—the missing engineering files still elude us,” he says. Nuggen is not impressed, and Jerka lies. “We’re on a fast track to restore the data in case the originals are not found.” Now why did I make such a stupid statement?
“How long will the restoration take?” The piercing stare of Raefell demands commitment.
“Several years will be needed to recreate all the missing information.” He understands the answer is unacceptable.
“A bad joke—you make a dreadful joke.” He is loud and attracts the attention of others standing nearby. “How’d Bhril let things get so far out of control? The thought is beyond my imagination—gross negligence is all I can say. Now what’re you doing to rectify the situation?”
The chancellor is unprepared for such a delving conversation. He assumed the event would stay social. Speechless, he stands as the silence spreads, and those within hearing distance stop talking and turn their attention to Nuggen and Jerka.
He stumbles as he says, “I—I—uuh—plan to fire Bhril, as soon as I can find a suitable replacement.”
“You hung yourself out in public during the election campaign. You let your mouth override your abilities. The people expect big things at The Dome Project—do something visible, and now. The herd needs something to graze on.” Raefell’s face reddens. Now’s the time to leave. I must not make a spectacle. He spins on his heels, moves to the far side of the room, and locates an old friend.
ABYDOS UNIVERSITY
Kia finishes her Micro Mathematics examination and is comfortable with her performance. She turns in the paper and goes to the Student Social through the underground hallway.
He proved an excellent helper and cleared up some confusion for her, and much of math began to make sense.
Some of what Gramps told her perplexed her as she tries to decide Jadan’s place in her life.
Half of her hopes he will be present, and the other wishes not. She is ashamed for avoiding him, but she can’t make up her mind what to do or say when they meet. She cannot avoid him, nor does she want to. She yearns with intensity to be with him, embrace him, and listen to his voice. Be here Jadan.
She arrives at the entrance and stops to scan the room. His absence causes disappointment to wash over her. She gets a snack pack and beverage, and goes to a quiet corner, sits and continues scanning the room hoping she missed him earlier. She discovers Kraymer sitting alone working with his computer attached to a crude square box. Jadan introduced them before the team’s first trip. She procrastinates but walks up, clears her throat, and says, “Uh, hmm, excuse me.”
He is startled out of his deep concentration. “Oh, hello—Kia, right?”
“Yes—uuh—I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’m hoping you can tell me where to find Jadan.” She is nervous, and aware her condition shows. Did he tell him about me not returning his calls?
“He’s on assignment with the rest of the team. They left,” he says staring at her.
The silence gives her a chill. “Can I reach him?”
“Oh, no—we can’t communicate with anyone outside of the job site. Dr. Marshon forgot to tell us prior to our first trip. I returned to a furious girlfriend, and he talked to her to calm her down. She spent three days running scenarios—none of which she found favorable for me.”
“Did they say when they’ll be back?”
“No, I’m not sure, but they may stay a while. The chancellor is exerting excessive pressure on the doctor to find and fix the problem. I’m here working on a possible solution.”
“What can be so urgent?”
“The issue is sensitive and classified. Should I tell you, the law says you must be shoot.” Kraymer tries to be humorous, but she is not impressed.
“Thanks.” She frowns, turns, and walks away. Disappointment flows over her. Do I leave a text or voice? Her recourse is a voice memo on his message center. Not knowing Jadan’s return schedule wears on her. She decides a voice communication will be better. Much time passed since he listened to my voice.
She dials. “Hi Jadan—this is Kia. Sorry I missed you your last two times in. Call me once you get back. I miss you—bye.”