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Doorway to Zahr: The Last Dragon
Doorway to Zahr: The Last Dragon
Doorway to Zahr: The Last Dragon
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Doorway to Zahr: The Last Dragon

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The first volume in an epic three part sci-fi fantasy adventure, from one of the newest most inventive writers in the field

M J Williams

Amal a young dreamer, could never have expected this one.

His father, a prominent inventor and businessman, fed up with the corruption and cynicism of modern society of the future, plans to take his wife, his son Amal, and his sons companion Rachel to a new planet where he has planned an idyllic new colony of likeminded people.

But things go wrong, when the government gets wind of his plan and tries to assassinate him and his family. While the father is killed, the mother gets herself and the children into a time capsule in hopes of a quick rescue. Instead 40,000 years pass, finally waking up to a wild, ancient but futuristic planet.

The boy Amal is befriended by a benign people, the Biink, and learns how to survive in a savage world filled with danger and enemy tribes of half man half animal beings.

Amal grows up to become known as the Chosen One, becomes a leader of his new people, destined to lead a desperate fight for survival against the evil Gorgan clan.

Along the way to the showdown and his destiny, Amal makes many friends, experiences a plethora of adventures, grows to maturity and falls in love.

With the help of his boyhood pet, a genetically created reptile like creature which by now has grown into an enormous dragon, Amal fights to save his world and eventually be re-united with his mother and his childhood friend Rachel.

It almost seems like a dream.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateMay 8, 2009
ISBN9781467054232
Doorway to Zahr: The Last Dragon
Author

M J Williams

M J Williams gives a new imaginative view to science fiction fantasy, with his background in martial arts, his love of nature, and his mechanical experience  he is able to weave complicated plots into startling realities. He currently is living in the Pacific Northwest with his son, wife, and all their pets.

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    Book preview

    Doorway to Zahr - M J Williams

    © 2009 M J Williams. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    First published by AuthorHouse 10/27/2009

    ISBN: 978-1-4389-8339-4 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4670-5423-2 (ebk)

    Printed in the United States of America

    Bloomington, Indiana

    Contents

    Prologue

    One

    Two

    Three

    Four

    Five

    Six

    Seven

    Eight

    Nine

    Ten

    Eleven

    Twelve

    Thirteen

    Fourteen

    Fifteen

    Sixteen

    Seventeen

    Eighteen

    Nineteen

    Twenty

    Twenty-one

    Twenty-two

    Twenty-three

    To Father

    For being a better Dad then he knew

    A special thanks to my lovely Russian wife Gyuzal, my son Amal, and to Alex Busighin, for help on all the names of the characters.

    A special thanks to Jennifer DeDora and Mike Valentino, for their edit work.

    For questions or suggestions on Doorway to Zahr contact:

    M J Williams at doorwaytozahr@yahoo.com

    for questions on the artwork please contact:

    Youri Konkin at youri.konkin@gmail.com   

    www.doorwaytozahr.com

    The Prophecy

    "When the living sleep and the dead awaken.

    The see-er must be seen.

    When the enemies become the friends,

    then the beginning meets the end.

    Only silence shall be spoken, least the chosen be undone,

    then shall the child bleed, to be the child of no more.

    If the woman be with none, then the final battle has yet begun.

    When the boy becomes the man, the battle he must lead.

    Behold the beast sever his brother, where upon the man shall fall as two.

    When the three legs shall move, the stone must break, then the face again becomes the Mothers.

    If save one shall fail, all shall die.

    If all shall come to pass, the faithful shall live"

    La’ma

    "Known writings thought to

    describe The Chosen One"

    The Sacred Tablet of Orr

    … and it shall be told, that a great warrior had come and changed the face of the land, a warrior not of this world, destined to be king, to change the face of the lands forever.

    2nd chronicles of Demine, second millennia:

    …and it was said a great leader did come and smite the land of evil…

    4th chronicles of Jar the Odd, first millennia

    …Born of the earth mother, the boy was the man; he became the key, the key that opened the minds of the lost…

    5th chronicles of Jar the Odd, first millennia:

    …be humble in heart, for he was the son of learning, the father of truth, the bringer of the true word, all this we hold to be true…

    Writings of unknown, forth millennia:

    And it had come to pass that the last dragon did fall, only to be rise again by his own hand.

    About the Author

    M J Williams gives a new imaginative view to science fiction fantasy, with his background in martial arts, his love of nature, and his mechanical background he is able to weave complicated plots into startling realities.  He currently is living in the Pacific Northwest with his son and wife, and all their animals.  

    missing image file

    Doorway to Zahr

    missing image file

    Prologue

    Daddy, do you ever dream of flying? the sleepy boy asked his father.

    That’s a big question for a five year old. Yes, I have, they say if you dream of flying, then you are going to have a happy life.

    Last night, I dreamed I was flying on the back of a great big dragon.

    Well, there are no such things as real dragons, so I don’t think you can fly on one again anytime soon.

    Really, Dad? It seemed like a real dragon.

    Time for bed, Son, I’ll see you in the morning, it’s the first day of school tomorrow, don’t forget.

    Good night, Dad.

    Good night, Son.

    Blake turned off the light to his son’s bedroom and closed the door.

    One

    If save one shall fail, all shall die.

    Bob, a bit concerned, approached Blake’s office and knocked.

    Come in.

    Opening the solid oak door, Bob continued into Blake’s large western style office, he glanced over to the many antique rifles on the wall.

    You wanted me, Blake? Bob said with his usual cheery smile.

    Blake turned away from his oversized windows to his always efficient employee, gave his typical wry smile, tilting his head just a little as if reading Bob’s thoughts, ignoring Bob’s question.

    Do you remember the conversation we had last week about the sculpture?

    Sure, Bob said, I’ve done some checking on it Blake, I think I’ve found the right man for the job.

    "Look, Bob, I want to remind you, this carving, this statue is to be special. I want it to be hand carved by someone who really knows their stuff.

    No chi computer stuff, no laser work, no fake stone. I want someone that’s able to show Lela’s inner beauty and her strengths. I want the statue to have its own spirit. Do you know what I mean? Something that Michelangelo would have carved and been proud of. When someone views it I want it to strike them with thoughts of grandeur, of exceptional beauty, of something really special. When Lela sees it I want her to see that I captured a part of her that only I truly appreciate. Understand?"

    Are we talking about some children’s movie? Or are we talking about a sculpture? You sound melodramatic, Bob finished, smiling once again, bored of hearing the same description three times now.

    Use this photo as your guide. Blake handed a portrait of his wife over the desk to Bob.

    Look, Bob, as complex as things are going to be getting around here you’ll be the one that needs to visit the sculptures shop. I simply don’t have the time. Make sure you stop in several times over the next couple of months. Is that going to work for you? At least a half dozen times Bob, and the work better not be cheap, just make sure you’re aware of what I’m expecting. A class act only.

    I’ll have them make a small mock up for you to look at Blake, just to make sure you’re ok with the basic layout of the sculpture. It’s difficult for me to judge what you might think about the quality of the work, or the overall look of it.

    White marble, Bob, I want white marble, fine grained. You’re clear on that also right? This must be of their best stone, the finest stone that can be found; if they don’t have it on hand I want it ordered out of Europe. Italy has the best. Run the bill through Genosplice. Show it as an office improvement or something, I need the write off.

    Blake let his poor mood rush back in; he turned away and looked out his large corner office window to the cold wet city below. A light rain had begun to fall producing a never-ending kaleidoscope of fractured lights from the street below.

    What trash, what a mess we have created in this world of ours. Too many dammed people, always with their hands out, always wanting to take, to steal, to feed their own hunger, and usually at the expense of someone else.

    Blake sighed, as a wandering droplet of milky colored rain worked is way down the outside of his window, jerking as it moved, as if trying to escape its own polluted birth.

    What a nasty city, he thought, even the rain is sick.

    A place gone blind, unable to see its own mortal end.

    He fought to keep his calm, this city is withering away; this world is withering away.

    I usually enjoy the rain, but this shit stinks, look at the color of this rain, Bob, I hate this city.

    What’s that, Blake?

    Nothing. It won’t make any difference anyway; Blake kept staring out the window. Nothing.

    Look, just get it going, alright?

    I need to run soon, so let yourself out. Ok? Blake barked his thoughts to Bob once again.

    Blake turned back away from the rain-streaked window in time to see his old friend and best employee leaving the room, Bob’s head now little lower than when he came in.

    Blake took a deep breath and let it out slowly, finally making up his mind.

    I’m out of this shit-hole, he thought; I need something more than this ugly inhuman place. A man needs to take chances sometimes in life, now is that time.

    The following morning when Blake awoke, he no longer had such a profound sense of frustration, everything that had seemed to be weighing down on him the past few months was now just little less smothering. He felt like he had let go of much of the burden he had been carrying for too long. There was now a new sense of purpose in his life, one that he had not felt for too long. He and his family were leaving this world for sure now.

    He had also now inherited the family business and now felt like he really could make a difference in his own life, in his family’s life. He knew for sure the time was right to leave this country behind, this world behind.

    Turning the corner of the hall he entered his company’s office cafeteria, sitting down in the nearest chair facing the entrance from which he had just come. Looking up, Blake gestured with his hand for Joan to come over to his table. Joan, would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?

    Did you want it black, Mr. Williams?

    A little cream, thanks. Not looking up at her as he spoke, he drifted away into his own thoughts. He needed now to convince his wife that their future move was both better for her son and better for her.

    At least Lela seemed to be more amenable than most wives, never asking him questions about his business, or poking into who he was talking to, or if he had gone out for a drink, as long as he communicated with her, all was good.

    Her greatest concerns about their move seemed too focus around their son’s well being, health, and happiness. Blake knew if others did not, that he was a good Dad so he had that covered. She always seemed to trust his judgment as far as their boy, Amal, was concerned.

    So if indeed he and his family were to leave this world Blake needed to make sure he provided his family with their wants and needs, not just his own. If there was a problem about moving it would be about her or their son Amal.

    Strange as it seemed Blake thought Lela was also going to miss shopping a bit too much. That seemed like a simple enough problems for a rich man to solve, but it was not. When you lived billions of miles from the nearest shopping mall, you had to have plans in place if you wanted to buy something. The shopping sprees for her were the answers to all her imperfections; she felt she could buy a new dress or jacket or necklace and she would be that much more beautiful again. Never for other men, she would always say, but for her own image of herself.

    To convince her to not shop was simply not possible, well at any rate it would take away to much of the wife’s enjoyment. Blake had decided early on that it would be nice to set up a virtual shopping center for her in their new home. It was the newest thing going and not that big of a deal, a simple enough program to implement. You simply dedicated a room to act as your mall, install magLev flooring which provided the sense of motion, changing to coordinate with the shopper’s point of view inside the 3d program, the speeds and elevation changes activated as needed.

    This all in turn surrounded by a holograph, which by surrounding the shopper gave her a sense of moving around a mall, complete with other shoppers and sounds. With the small headset on you could even smell and touch items, this accomplished by corresponding electrical impulses being sent to various parts of the shopper’s cerebrum. It wasn’t exactly perfect but it did give that sense of shopping, you could interact with people and visually sample clothing even try on whatever you liked; it also was great for various other activities including movies, a stroll in the park, any number of alternate realities.

    I don’t really know if we will be cutting all ties with earth or not in the long run, he thought. But for now I could follow up on anything she ordered through the virtual program and have it sent to them through the teleport. Best he could do, Blake decided.

    His next biggest issue with getting her to move was her nursing job. Of course she wasn’t totally dedicated to her nursing, but it was important to her. She loved nursing but at the same time, had learned that she best not get too involved with her patients as they tended to die, a little too often for her. Each death of a patient had caused her depression, which in turn had affected her ability to care properly for her son, and was no fun for their love life.

    Blake had finally decided that there would be plenty of demand for her nursing services on an isolated world with only one doctor available, all for a hundred odd people, who definitely would be in need of some care at one time or the other.

    Well anyway at noon today she will know the whole story.

    Telling her everything was bound to lessen his load a little more; everything had been getting a bit too much to handle, too many details, too many things to think about.

    He felt himself needing a break; he was tired of this constant maneuvering, putting out fires, as his dad used to say.

    After dropping a tip for his server, he got up from the table. Blake walked to the front entrance of the cafeteria, passing people, but oblivious to their hellos and good mornings, instead intent on his own thoughts.

    He headed directly to the small open air elevator, more like a vertical people mover with its ability to move both left and right as it rose up or down, allowing fast and easy access to all areas of his father’s monolithic office complex. The mover traveled anywhere along the inner open area of the building, silent and versatile; it was the first electromagnetic field elevator in the city when it was first installed. Of course stairs were still in place to promote physical activity, and as a safety back up in case of the inevitable power failure.

    The open-air office complex had been constructed more than seventy-five years earlier by his grandfather, inherited by his father, then recently again inherited by him. The once innovative building was at one time recognized to be a model for healthy office working conditions. Its pyramid shaped glass structure promoted both good health and comfort, all features playing a part in the promotion of both physical and mental health. With its large windows and plants, low-density work areas, solar power, and electromagnetic fields, it had been the model of future construction in the river city.

    Granddad had built the huge building with his first military contract. His company had received a contract for research and development applicable to the promotion of electromagnetic fields in combat, know by military as P.E.M.I.C. That division was controlled in turn by Military Transport, Inc, which at the time was very unpopular with much of the general public, especially with the younger, less experienced generation. Old granddad had used a portion of his wealth to invest in improving public relations, providing better living conditions for the everyday man, for the working class, and of course the younger crowd, with his then innovative concert venues.

    The military contract that Blake had been working on for the past three years now was in its full test mode, he had kept many of the details on the overall progress a secret from the Air Force, and all the governing agents working on the project. The contract work that was being done was partial theoretical and partial established facts. In essence his company was charged with the manufacture and development of the proto type, and testing model of a transport device to other worlds, known as a matter to light re-arranger the MLR, using a distant black hole as the catalyst of its function.

    The idea was based on the premise that the topology of the universe is such that a person or persons along with material items via the MLR should be able to transverse through the universe using the contact area of black holes to their respective relevance in the universe. This Black Hole acting as both the basic power source and the pathway through the universe.

    In other words the interiors of black holes are so infinitely dense and they exerted so massively destructive gravity fields that only the outer edge of the holes would be able to be used as a pathway. This was based on the notion of space-time singularity; this in turn is to be manipulated using electromagnetic shields. In essence allowing a doorway to be used to another universe, it all had been worked out mathematically, but the testing phase, as far as the government was concerned, was at least one year away.

    As far as Blake was concerned it was a few days away, and this first test would need a massive amount of electricity to begin the cycle. However, that was not an issue in itself, he had all he needed from dedicated electrical lines run underground to the test site, his own personal hidden site sitting adjacent to the military’s site was less than a city block away.

    This system, along with the whole project, was all a very quite issue. He had had to use his own moneys to duplicate the construction of the transport device that he was doing for the military. He had built his own transport device without the military knowing anything at all, concealing it from them, much as a single tree hiding in the midst of a forest.

    Blake had his crew of dedicated people he was working with who he fully trusted; they in turn worked with the government observers keeping everything on track for both units. It was basically a full time job for his liaisons, to keep the government observers in a kind of knowledge loop, feeding failed test results with a few occasional successes in order to keep up with his contract and to motivate the cash cow into keeping the money flowing.

    Of course there was also a need to justify the use of electricity and explaining the reasons for the electromagnet signature left in the atmosphere after each transport usage, the best Blake had managed here was blowing them both off to the government as testing issues.

    Blake long ago decided that he cared little for helping a government that had lost track of individual freedoms and had created a world based on manipulation and deception. Besides, there were just too damn many taxes, too many laws, and too many corrupted government officials.

    There was little difference between his manipulation of the project and the government’s manipulation of its people, all’s fair in love and war, he thought.

    He smiled to himself. Anyway, there was just no easy way for him to explain in great detail to the government observers why atmospheric signatures were being produced. They would want detailed calculations and test results. The only thing he could do there was to alert his contacts in the US Air Force. He’d inform them that he was testing a specific aspect of the transport system that produced a similar signature, and hope that they did not put two and two together before he was gone for good.

    To be gone, he thought, that had a nice feel to it.

    If he was going, then the first thing needed was to send out another probe; he needed more information about Zahr, the acronym for Zone Alpha Hastings Ring, an approximate designation to the planet’s location. Its location was in the almost exact center of a multi polar star system, which correlated with the exit point of the transporter, actually an unknown location in respect to earth. Simply put, it was near the exit point of the function of the transporter, because the transporter used a specific pathway in a black hole as a doorway. And because there were no known recognizable star formations on the other side of the door, there was no way to know the exit point of that doorway.

    He needed to use the exact beginning coordinates used the first time when entering the doorway to re enter it again in order to come out at the same place each time. It was akin to exiting the door of a jet in flight and landing at the same exact point on the ground each and every time, of course with healthier results if possible.

    All this information was crucial in devising a proper transport system to Zahr.

    Two

    Blake had decided it was time to meet the wife and talk a little about the upcoming move. He had arrived an hour earlier to the cafeteria to give himself time to study the notes Bob had prepared on all the remaining issues of the move that were not yet resolved.

    He had decided to meet his wife during the day instead of talking to her at home about this, he knew that home time should be kept friendly, any item to be discussed that was really important should be done in a kind of neutral setting. In the past whenever they had discussed important issues at home it seemed to grow into a bigger problem than it should have, leaving the household in an uncomfortable mood. Amal was too young to understand Mommy and Daddy’s fighting.

    Blake looked up to see his wife entering the office cafeteria. Had that much time gone by? He stood up and smiled as his wife approached the simple table and chairs of the cafeteria. Hi Babe how was your day? he asked, as he sat back down. What would you like to eat? Anything?

    No, I ate at work before I came. What did you want to talk about? she said. I know you never invite me to meet, not unless it’s for something you want, or something you want to hear from me.

    She smiled at her husband knowing she had him again.

    Fine, Blake said. I think you know me too well, girl.

    I do, so don’t ever forget it.

    Did you at least want something to drink?

    Ok, I’ll have an iced tea. Same as yours.

    They sat for few a moments and discussed the early part of each ones day, laughed at a couple of Lela’s dark Russian jokes, and drank their teas.

    Ok, look, do you remember I mentioned that we would be moving soon?

    You have been saying that for three years now, so what’s different this time? she said while she pulled back her thick flowing brown hair away from her beautifully proportioned face.

    Well, I’ve pinned it down to about six months from now, so I want you to be aware that’s all. I wanted to give you enough time to square away your work, talk to your mom, things like that.

    You said my mother was welcome to live by us.

    She is, that hasn’t changed, it’s just that I want you to be ready, you have your son’s schooling to consider, things like how the change will affect him. You need to have your mother make sure her personal arrangements are in order and so on.

    Just do anything you think is important to be done now, not six months from now, not when I’m ready to leave.

    Ok? Blake looked at her.

    Ok fine, she said smiling her phony smile. I need to go, she said.

    Ya lyublyu. Blake’s look softened to her.

    I love you too, honey, she said and smiled a sincere smile this time. Happy to hear her husband say he loved her, even if it was in Russian.

    It had been ten years now since she had immigrated here; time flew buy fast, she thought.

    Your accent if way off, honey, she said as she turned to Blake with her purse in hand ready to leave.

    Work on it. I’m going to test you later, she said, then turned and rushed out of the cafeteria.

    Blake left the building himself and hopped onto his mover shortly after his quick meeting with his wife, deciding to head out and check on son Amal’s going away present.

    It seemed that everything was coming to a head quickly now and if everything was to get done, he was going to have to work a lot of hours. Was this work? He thought no, this was not work, it was a new beginning.

    After leaving the office a short time later Blake arrived in Colusa for a meeting with Liz, his head geneticist. The trip had taken 20 minutes, just enough time to finish reviewing Bob’s notes on items left to handle before the move; this should take care of one of the items here, he reassured himself.

    He exited the mover and walked up to the air gate marked Genosplice Research Group with a smaller sign reading please look at the blue light. As he began to pass through the air security gate, the air became more and more dense, then very dense, once his profile was read by the mainframe; he was then quickly able to pass through.

    If he had not been recognized, there would have been a continually thickening of the air around him until he could no longer move. Holding him until Security had decided to release him or not.

    He needed to make sure that Amal’s special gift was on track for completion.

    I hope she has this well on its way; we’re running tight on time, he thought.

    Blake traversed the corporate complex in little time arriving at a side door marked, Do not enter. He looked at the door and within a second it opened; the eye scanner was so quick that the scan could not be detected. He thought it was silly that there was an eye painted on the door that you should look at, since it did not matter where on the door you looked.

    Hello, Blake, a familiar voice said. Come in, come in, care for a coffee or sno?

    No thanks, Doctor, Blake answered.

    Please, call me Liz.

    Ok Liz. I’m just here to get a run down on my boy’s going away present. So how are we doing with the little critters?

    "Well, they’re not critters yet; we have not been able to stabilize the recombinant genes from the bats. The problem seems to be in the extension of the maturation of the life cycle. As you know it’s never been possible to extend human life much beyond 140 years. The fact that we are creating a new species does allow for greater modification, however to extend or stunt the life cycle process beyond 250 years seems to be out of our reach, at least for the moment, though that could be completely wrong as this is a new species.

    "On the positive side we have found a way to inure or place polycomb protein Bmi-1 into the cell walls during embryonic development, and we are finding no significant changes in the developmental process that is not inhibiting our move forward. However we can’t move forward on this until we can find a way to post inject so that it will not interfere with the early development of the whelps, but, I think we will have these items handled in short order.

    I believe that all we will need to do now is mutate an enzyme, and hopefully be able to express USE B1 binding protein that should in turn act as a delay mechanism. Hence, normal development will be allowed once they reach approximately one year old, and then a quantum reduction in aging should occur.

    Ha? Blake shrugged.

    In other words everything is on track, Blake, and the whelps will develop normally as such a creature might until age one, then almost stop aging. Allowing your son to have these unique pets for his normal life span, without them growing old or growing too large. They will both be females hence not able to reproduce. I think we should abide by this, as we are breaking a hundred laws as it is.

    I doubt we broke a hundred, Blake said, laughing.

    Well, combining a turtle, a bat, a lizard, and several bugs together is not exactly normal practice. Adding to that, the fact that it is totally illegal to develop a living organism, especially one that has teeth and wings, and could live a thousand or more years. This just about breaks every law on the books for genetic work, and would get me banned for any future work in the field. That’s enough don’t you think? I would guess they will put us both away for quite a while!

    Only if we’re caught, Blake said soberly. Another thing, what were you able to do for keeping the whelps from running off?

    Ah, the best part. Liz smiled. "I took some of the samples of Amal’s hair that we had on file, broke it down to the base DNA, then added an adenovirus (Ad) vector employed to deliver a functional copy of certain aspects of Amal’s DNA to the OTC gene base. Then again to the participating whelp embryonic cells. This should allow an imprinting of Amal’s body fragrance to become an attractor, also by manipulating certain genes to release endorphins upon close proximity to Amal, to the occipital portion on the whelp’s cerebrum, they should be then placed in a euphoric state.

    In other words when the whelps are close enough to Amal to smell him, the whelps are happy, even euphoric. When away from him the whelps will feel as if something is missing, defaulting to a desire or wanting to either sleep or eat. Somewhat like a typical guard dog," Liz said, giggling.

    Ingenious, who thought to do this?

    Well, you did say I had a lot of leeway with them, you wanted to give Amal a pet that would last his entire life, it made sense to me to produce such pets that would both protect him and be a friend, all in one. Anyway, when Amal is out of range of their smell there would be no particular attachment, from the whelps to Amal, this way he can avoid having them following him around all the time.

    I’m curious why you, did not, pull genetic material from a dog? Blake looked at her for the answer.

    Why would I do that?

    Well, were you not trying to develop a loyal friend, isn’t that what dogs are best known for?

    "Look, Blake, you stick to making money I’ll stick to science, we are talking apples

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