Ammara: The Awakening

Chapter 1

28TH APRIL, 1976

TONGAAT, REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA

There was a dim light beyond the corner at the end of the tunnel. Although still swinging, it lit the cave wall better and better.

That damn puncture! a dull voice said. It’s gotten dark in the time we took getting here…

As if there was ever daylight in a cave! laughed another. Oh well, at least the locals don't ask questions.

The lights of the three helmet lamps flashed one by one from beyond the corner and cut into the darkness of the cave like sharp blades.

The leader, a man of around fifty held a map to the light.

Is this the tunnel, Pete? he pointed at the paper.

Yes, professor. ‘Isihogo umgede’, Tunnel of Hell, the locals call it. Dead end.

OK! the professor nodded. Let's see it then!

As they penetrated deeper and deeper into the cave, the man called Pete and the third explorer suddenly staggered after a turn and made a grab at their foreheads.

Ouch, here it comes! Pete cried out.

The professor turned back.

Your heads?

Yes! he hissed. The locals said so! This must be some sort of radiation!

But I don't have a headache… Go back, I'll take a look on my own.

Okay!

Holding their heads with one hand and feeling the way with the other, they started to walk back.

Suddenly they both straightened their backs.

Oh!

What happened? said their leader turning back, having taken a few steps ahead.

It's gone! said the third.

The pain was suddenly gone, like magic! Pete added.

The professor returned to them.

This is quite a radiation… Now let's go, boys!

After a few meters, the tunnel widened.

Yes, it's a dead end remarked Pete. And now?

The professor stared ahead, motionless.

Professor…? Professor Lance!

The old man was staring fixedly at a point in the rock wall at the end of the tunnel. He was mesmerized by a protrusion in the rock.

He suddenly glanced back at Pete. Yes…?

Are you okay, David?

The professor nodded, humming. He was looking at the rock wall ahead with his helmet lamp.

Help me! and he dug his pickaxe in the wall.

Pete hesitated.

But professor!

Don't ask, just do it! said the professor without stopping. Jason, move back!

The rock pieces, each the size of a man’s head, fell off one by one, then a cambered metal surface appeared from within the depth of the rock.

More, from the edge, there! the professor instructed him.

As soon as the hole was wide enough, he waved at him to stop.

Professor, what is this?

The third man stepped up behind them, too.

And how did it get into the rock? he asked the obvious question.

I don't know Lance panted.

He took his gloves off and carefully pulled the sphere out of its place. Reaching out with his fingers, Pete felt the mirror-smooth hemispherical imprint the object left in the rock, then he began to examine the sphere itself.

The professor was turning it around in his hand.

Erm, there is a hand-shaped impression on it, right here he stated. And another one here in front.

He took the sphere in his hands, holding it by the recesses.

The professor's face was flooded by a growing light.

A pattern began to shine on the object, enchaining his attention completely.

Oh, my god, what the hell is that?! Pete cried out, white as a sheet.

Frightened, they moved back. Jason threw his spade to the ground, and they both fled out of the tunnel.

They ran to their Jeep like crazy, the beams of their helmet lamps dancing in the moonlight. They leaned against the side of the car, panting for a moment, then Jason sat behind the wheel.

Where's the key, give me the key, Pete!

No! his partner shouted at him. The professor is still in there! he pointed at the direction of the cave.

But this is …! It's a …!

Stop it! You're acting like a child!

Give me the key, Pete! the man was raging. He got out of the car. Give me the key! he yelled.

Pete reached into his pocket.

Here! Take it and run! and he threw it at him. I'm not leaving the professor behind!

Jason clawed the key from the dust and drove off with spinning wheels.

The thirty-something Pete was walking to and fro nervously, trying to overcome his fear. He knew he had to go back for the professor.

Oh, this can't be happening to me! he cursed and walked briskly back to the mouth of the cave, which was hidden by the bottom of the cliff towering overhead, shrouded in the darkness of the trees.

He was still hesitating for a few seconds at the entry, and had just plucked up his courage when he saw the professor coming out of the cave with the two pickaxes and the spade in his hands.

Professor! Are you all right? What happened? We thought…

I'm all right, Pete, everything's fine! he interrupted. Where is Jason? He marched past the other man.

Jason went berserk, he took the car! But what was that thing?

The professor spun around and looked deeply in his assistant's eyes.

Nothing happened, you hear? The thing we found doesn’t exist! I destroyed it, and that's the end of it! he shook the spade in his hand.

Pete stared at him perplexed.

All right, professor.

Pete, if you tell anyone what we found, our career in archaeology is over! If Jason spills the beans, you won't back him, I'm telling you for your own good! Am I making myself clear?

Yes! Yes! nodded the other.

The professor kept looking in his eyes for a second. Then he nodded, too.

Fine! Bring the spade! he shoved it into his hand.

They set off on foot in the light of the full moon.

* * *

THIRTY-THREE YEARS LATER…

The curtain fluttered above the folds of the silk blanket, as the morning breeze slunk in through the window and lay down on the carpet.

The thirty-something man was still asleep, turning towards the shadier part of the room, when the graceful, delicate hand of a woman touched his face tenderly. Stroking him softly, she was trying to wake him up, with no effect of course.

Robeeert… said a kind voice, the hand stroking again.

The corner of the man’s mouth pulled a drowsy smile.

Good morniiing… the voice bubbled.

Robert gave out a soft moan.

The voice responded with a low giggle, then the delicate hand began to tap on his face. The young woman’s oval face was framed by a fall of dark blond hair. There was a playful impatience behind her smile.

Robert, wake up…! still kindly, she kept calling him and rapped on his nose. With a sleepy grin, he reached to the spot, then opened his eyes on the girl.

Good morning, honey… he said drowsily.

Burrowing his free right hand into her hair above her shoulder, he softly pulled her close for a morning kiss, then he suddenly yanked her into bed beside him. While she gave out a little cry of delight, he turned and carefully pivoted above her to pleasure her with some more kisses.

The stream of kisses was slowing down, and she placed her index finger on his lips to indicate she was going to say something.

I made breakfast, but you've got to hurry, you only have half an hour left. Meanwhile she was stroking the man's face with her palm.

But I wanted to have breakfast with you, honey. Why didn't you wake me up? Robert was caressing her.

With a proud face, she looked into his eyes.

Because you worked late yesterday and I let you get some sleep she answered finally. She grinned, knowing that she'd just given the perfect answer.

Yeah… nodded Robert, a bit sad. Late, I know…

But I've got to go now, dear she interrupted.

She pushed the man off of her, but she gave him another kiss nonetheless.

Jenny! Robert called out to her, sitting up in the bed. The movement made the blanket drop halfway: he had a properly muscled upper body.

Jenny was already at the bedroom door. As she turned back, her golden locks fell fluttering over her shoulder.

Yes?

Smiling drowsily, his eyes rested on his wife. After a while, he said:

I love you.

I love you she jingled, waving with her fingers, then she was gone.

Cheerfully, Robert looked around, then slapped his knees and sprung up.

A few hours later, he was already scribbling a formula on the whiteboard.

For the next class, I want you to calculate the necessary excitation levels he said, adding the last note.

He turned around. He was wearing a brown jacket, a white shirt, black tie and blue jeans.

Any questions? he looked up at the audience.

Sitting in the ascending rows, about fifty students were taking notes. One of them raised his hand.

Yes…? Robert motioned to him.

Professor! Is it true that you have a theory that quarks are not what current physics considers them to be? And neither is excitation?

Robert smiled.

A rebellious would-be scientist he introduced the student to the others with a hand gesture. It is, but if you learn my theory instead of the standard textbook material, you'll be in trouble with your studies, no matter how interesting my thoughts might be.

There were sounds of soft laughter in the room.

Yes, professor, but could you say something more about it, though? the student insisted.

In the meantime, some of the audience was getting ready to leave, but the remaining students were listening intently, one of them nodding to Robert in agreement.

Hesitantly, the professor looked around at them.

Well, all right…, he shook his head, why not… Very briefly, neutrons have no quarks inside, neutrons are time-antagonism systems at the sub-subatomic level. Inside, there are Wheeler's tachyons milling in a fractal system, and what we call quarks are the special structural clusters, the seemingly separating junctions of this system. But don't you dare learn that one! he wagged his finger at them. Each new theory has its path of inauguration or canonization, which it has to go through, or fail trying. That's why science progresses so slowly, and that's something you should learn very well he finished the sentence, laughing. So see you tomorrow! he waved to them and turned towards his desk.

While the group was marching out of the lecture hall, the previous enquirer stepped over to his desk.

Professor… Some of us are heading for a beer, we thought you might want to hang out with us. If you feel like it.

That's very kind of you, eerrrm… Kevin he responded. The boy nodded as he got his name right. Unfortunately, I've got to go to the nuclear physics lab now. Maybe next time.

I see, professor nodded the boy. But you're really welcome any time.

I'm pleased to hear that, Kevin acknowledged Robert.

Well… see you! the student left.

A little later, Robert walked under the 'Astrophysical Sciences' sign, and entered the building. He was in a dimly-lit section of the corridor when his phone rang.

Yes? he answered the phone.

Professor Robert Lance? he heard the voice of the caller.

Yes, it's me.

This is Sergeant O'Neill from the traffic police. I'm calling about your wife…

Robert staggered, his back bumping into the wall.

Where? Is she all right? he cried into the phone.

He ran out of the building.

The cab stopped beyond the yellow police tape. Robert was looking out of the window, worried. Pushing the door open, he rushed to the officer standing at the tape. There were only a few cars driving in the oncoming lanes, which were separated from the others by a narrow, grassy shoulder.

Where is she? he asked.

The policeman held up his hand.

Sir, you can't come here, this area is closed.

But that's my wife's car! Let go of me! Leave me alone! he struggled with the policeman.

I'm sorry, sir. You don't want to go there. I'm sorry.

I don't care, I want to go there, let go of me! Finally, he managed to get through, or the policeman felt there was no point resisting him. Turning after him, the officer remarked:

Too late…

Frantically, Robert ran to the car, which was halted facing a large lamppost, halfway into the shoulder separating the two directions. The front was completely wrecked, with only a few splinters left of the windshield. The fire-fighters were trying to free the body with their hydraulic cutter, the ambulance staff were sitting at the open back door of the ambulance car, waiting impassively.

As he got near the car and saw his wife's hair at the wheel, he slowed down, hesitating.

I'm her husband! What happened? he asked the policeman standing there.

I phoned you said the officer. I'm sorry, sir, there's nothing…

Don't sorry me, tell me what happened! he shouted at the officer.

Witnesses say it was a drunk… said the policeman, he stepped onto the road in front of her, she jerked the wheel and accelerated. Probably by mistake…

Looking at the ambulance staff, Robert stepped towards them.

But why are you just sitting there, do something!

Sir the officer caught his shoulder. I'm sorry, sir, there's nothing they could do…

Looking at the policeman, he realized what the other officer had meant. He looked back at the car desperately.

Noo! he moaned. Nooo… Jennyy… His face was distorted with pain.

The woman's head was bent on the steering wheel, her long blonde angel hair swept back, a streak of blood on her face, all the way down from her forehead.

Robert's tears fell like rain. He was screaming without a sound.

* * *

FOUR YEARS LATER…

The man opened his eyes in the darkened room as the morning discerned through the thick curtains and glistened on his eyeballs. He was staring at the ceiling. The digital alarm clock buzzed. He reached over to it and turned it off.

Robert sat up and massaged his face with both hands. He stared ahead for a while with a grim look on his face. He breathed heavily, then glanced back at the empty right side of the bed.

He pulled the curtains and squinted down at the street. He took his time watching the people, then he stood under the shower.

There were some books of famous physicists on the shelf, along with an empty vase and some framed photos. They showed him in the company of a stunning woman with auburn hair, one of them was a wedding photo, on the others they were standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, then on Heroes Square in Budapest.

Walking in his brown suit jacket along one of Princeton's main streets, his mood was getting better and better. He looked at his watch. Realizing that he was running late, he waved for a taxi.

To the University, please! he leaned forward to the driver.

It was a pleasant, sunny morning in the campus park, students were walking on the grass with their laptops in their hands. One of them stepped aside to give way to a racing cyclist.

Hey dude, take it easy! he whooped after him.

Then he almost stepped right in front of a black SUV, which honked at him.

The bulky Ford stopped in front of the Dean's office. Two elegant officers got out and strutted toward the entrance, students were staring embarrassed at their dark blue uniforms.

Sitting at his old-style desk, the dean was signing papers.

Sir, you have visitors from the Air Force he heard his secretary's voice from the phone on his desk. The dean pushed the button.

Send them in, Angela, thank you.

He stood up and stepped toward the uniformed soldiers who had just entered his office.

Good morning, professor. Lieutenant Riley, US Air Force. This is my colleague, Sergeant Ritter The lieutenant's moustache made his appearance even more serious.

Gentlemen..? How can the university help the Air Force?

We are looking for Professor Robert Lance. Where can we find him?

I see. Let me look at his schedule the dean stepped back to his desk and clicked on something on his notebook.

He is in Peyton Hall, right in front of us, across the park. His lecture will be over in half an hour.

Thank you the lieutenant nodded and was about to leave.

Excuse me… Maybe his students are taking a test, can you wait for the class to finish?

The soldiers looked at each other, the sergeant's headshake was hardly noticeable.

I am sorry, professor, our orders are clear.

I see. Then I'll go with you so that I can take over the class if necessary he reached for his jacket.

May I ask why you are looking for him?

The lieutenant nodded his head respectfully.

I am sorry, sir, I cannot answer that question.

I see. This way then, gentlemen. They left the office.

The students were writing in silence, Robert was sitting at the desk on the platform, reading.

The thirty-something man looked up to the descending seats of the students, then glanced at his watch. There was a knock on the door, and the dean entered. The professor rose and stepped towards him. The dean whispered something in his ear, and Robert saw the uniformed figures through the ajar door waiting in the corridor. Some students looked up from the test paper, apparently interested. The dean nodded and took a seat at the teacher's desk while the professor left the room.

Professor Robert Lance, my name is Lieutenant Riley, my colleague is Sergeant Ritter. We were sent here because the Air Force needs your help. Could you join us for a few days?

But what is this about?

All I can tell you is that your name was mentioned in connection with a research project. If you want us to give you more information, you must sign a confidentiality agreement. Is that acceptable for you?

Robert thought for a moment. In the past few years, he had regularly been published on topics related to theoretical astrophysics, but he had rather been the laughingstock of his colleagues working in the same field, than ever gaining real recognition.

The thought of the chance that something might happen at last, that he could move forward, since he had been contacted by the armed forces themselves, filled him with excitement.

Yes, all right he answered.

Thank you. Please follow me to the car.

They sat him in the back, the lieutenant sat next to him, put his hat under his arm and took a folder out of his briefcase.

"Professor, this is a standard national security confidentiality agreement, according to which you shall not disclose any information you gain knowledge of to any unauthorized third party and you shall keep the integrity of them as well as all data in written, image or any other form that are related to them and the research project. If you fail to do so, that would be considered high treason.

Please read it and sign it. Meanwhile, we are taking you to your home, then a military aircraft will fly you to a base in the Nevada desert.

Do you have your papers and any other important things on you, or shall we take a ride to your office for them?"

No, I have everything on me, thank you.

He began reading the contract. The black Ford drove across the campus.

The small troop carrier aircraft was not equipped with the best comfort. The sound insulation was much worse than in civilian aircraft, Robert was traveling in shrieking noise.

It's a bit rough like this! he shouted to the lieutenant sitting across from him. The lieutenant motioned him to put on the headphones with the microphone.

Robert turned his head looking for it, and he found it hanging right next to his head.

It's quite rough like this! he repeated into the microphone. When is the flight attendant coming with the refreshments?

I'm sorry about the inconvenience! answered the lieutenant. The order came on short notice and we could only deploy this aircraft with so little time at hand.

Robert nodded.

Next time bring a Boeing, please!

The lieutenant's face remained motionless.

The aeroplane stirred up the desert dust as the wheels touched the concrete. The air trembled around the body of the aircraft. It slowed down and left the runway toward the nearby building complex.

The sun was just setting on the horizon. Robert got out through the opening side door and jumped to the ground.

He massaged his thighs and buttocks, shook his legs, then he saw another officer walking briskly toward the plane. It was a pretty lady in a skirt uniform.

He noticed the woman's military-like yet sophisticated beauty.

You must be Professor Robert Lance she greeted him,