The Omega Chronicles

By Mark Carnelley

A giant cosmic dust cloud is first noticed in 1962, its discovery kept a secret so as not to cause worldwide panic, finally hits the Earth fifty-five years later with catastrophic devastation that wipes life from the face of the planet. One man, Colton Lee Steele, miraculously survives whilst stationed in Antarctica and thus starts his struggle to at first comprehend the enormity of his predicament and then plans and travels to the Northwest Territories to finally find a place he can call home. It is a harsh environment he finds himself in but through perseverance and true grit, he discovers an inner strength that will guide him through his final years, and along the way discover that life will always find a way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley
• Release date: Feb 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370294183

Mark Carnelley

The author is a 57-year-old, first-time author, retired in December 2014 after 12 years working in security. He started work in 1976, beginning a career in IT that ended in 1991. Further work stints included as a truck driver and cable TV/telephony installer until 2002. He has been married for 33 years and has five children and one grandchild. Retirement has given him the time to pursue his long-time dream of writing and becoming a published author.

Book preview

About the Author

The author is a 57-year-old, first-time author, retired in December 2014 after 12 years working in security. He started work in 1976, beginning a career in IT that ended in 1991. Further work stints included as a truck driver and cable TV/telephony installer until 2002.

He has been married for 33 years and has five children and one grandchild. Retirement has given him the time to pursue his long-time dream of writing and becoming a published author.

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to my father, Malcolm Bernard Carnelley. Born on the 7th September 1929 and died on the 31st May 2013 of complications due to dementia. A gentle man who gave me my passion for reading.

And to my wife, Jeanette, and my children for their belief in me and their never-ending patience.

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The Omega Chronicles

Published by Austin Macauley at Smashwords

Copyright 2018, Mark Carnelley

The right of Mark Carnelley Irving to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the

Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All Rights Reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save with the written permission of the publisher, or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended). Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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A CIP catalogue record for this title is

Available from the British Library.

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www.austinmacauley.com

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The Omega Chronicles, 2018

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

ISBN 9781786932624 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781786932631 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781786932648 (E-Book)

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First Published in 2018

Austin Macauley Publishers.LTD/

CGC-33-01, 25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf, London E14 5LQ

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McMurdo Station

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Stations at Antarctica

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Prologue

Omega Image

http://cf.ydcdn.net/1.0.1.43/images/bx_loader.gif

Bottom of Form

Omega is defined as the last of something.

An example of the Omega is the final day on Earth.

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1962

Man has always looked to the stars and dreamed. From the earliest caveman in total awe, to the present Homo sapiens, some who had less intelligence than their ancestors. It was the start of the golden age of space exploration. By 1959 American and Russian scientists were in a mad race to get a spacecraft to the Moon; the Russians made it first. Their space probe Luna 2 magnificently crash-landed onto the moon’s surface at a speed that would’ve killed anything on-board IF there had been anyone or any living thing travelling in it. They didn’t care, they were the first.

They won the gold medal again, with lots of back slapping and vodka shots, when, in 1961 Cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin became the first man in space. It was only one quick earth orbit and two hours later he parachuted out of Vostok 1 and floated gracefully down as his craft was designed to crash-land. One has to admire Russian ingenuity.

On the 21st June 1962, a Thursday, if anyone was interested, a young professor, Howard Longstreet, from Cambridge University, was using the Greenwich Great Equatorial Telescope, as he did every month, for his research. He was part of a team that was searching for double star systems. The team generally finished around 9pm, but as was his want, Howard stayed longer to search for anything. He just loved to look at the wonders that were out there. At precisely 10:22pm, according to his meticulous log, he saw, what at first he thought, was a speck of dirt on the outermost lenses. He moved the giant telescope half a degree in declination down and looked again. No problems. He cleaned his glasses, placed the telescope back to its original position and looked again. This was the first sighting of what came to be known as the Longstreet Cloud, a massive cosmic dust cloud that, by his calculations, was just beyond the orbit of Pluto. Almost 5 billion miles away.

His second sighting, on the 19th July, again a Thursday, confirmed his sighting. His calculations as to its position determined its speed through the vacuum of space. It was also a large cloud, extremely dense and measuring approximately twice the size of Jupiter. It was a globular cloud which was a rarity. It was a pity, he thought, that his calculations showed that the outer edges of the cloud would intersect with earth’s orbit on December 14th, 2017. Again with a Thursday he thought. At 62 years of age, he would not be alive to see his discovery, unless he lived to be 117, which he severely doubted. He would have liked to have seen the effects of those dust particles as they entered the earth’s atmosphere. The borealis effects would alone be an amazing sight. The earth, he deduced, would only be affected by that cloud by thin wispy tendrils and for no more than two or three nights.

He took his discovery to the others at Cambridge, who passed the information onto the Government. Their scientific boffins did their own calculations and over the next few years they were of one singular opinion. The cloud would envelop the earth for far longer than Longstreet had predicted and that was a prospect that scared the living shit out of these guys.

There was no way this information would ever be allowed to become public knowledge. Those who knew of this discovery, found themselves dead, including Howard, who died when his car flew off Beachy Head. An autopsy showed him to have been drinking, unusual for a teetotaler, his relatives thought, but maybe he had been celebrating his discovery and his tolerance of alcohol would not have been high at all. Three others, members of his team, died over the next few months. All tragic accidents of course. All data was gathered up and deposited within safes in underground bunkers, known to only three men. The Prime Minister, the President of the United States and the head of MI5. Their successors over the years had this knowledge passed down to them.

What Howard didn’t know at the time, couldn’t have known, was that within that cloud was a substance, unknown to man. It didn’t appear on their periodic table and as such the effects were unknown. What was known, was that sub-freezing temperatures over the entire globe could possibly mean snow formations over all the continents.

The unknown effects weren’t known until 2017, when the cloud’s particles met the earth’s atmosphere.

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Chapter 1

Alpha (-1 month)

Ends are not bad things, they just mean that something else is about to begin. And there are many things that don't really end, anyway, they just begin again in a new way. Ends are not bad and many ends aren't really an ending; some things are never-ending.

C. JoyBell C.

My name is Colton Lee Steele, Colt or Cole to those who know me well. Only my father called me Colton, and that was when I knew I was in all sorts of trouble. I was born on October 12th in 1976, in a small rural town in the Australian outback.

We owned approximately 1,000 acres just out of a town called Mount Magnet, about 600kms northeast of Perth. At one stage Dad’s grandad had Steele Station at 5,000,000 acres, but other stations had bought us out bit by bit due to many reasons, but mainly drought. At one stage, we had 15,000 head of Angus cattle roaming far and wide and the musters, I have been told, were a sight to see.

What remained was the one thousand acres with the original homestead where four generations of Steeles had been raised. It was already a dust bowl by the time it was sold, barely 500 sheep, we had downgraded, were the sole animals on the station. I would hate to see it now.

I was the youngest of three boys, Bobby four years older and the middle child, and Sean who was born six years before me on Christmas Day. They both looked after me during my early years at school, never letting anyone hang shit on me or bully me.

My Dad flew during the Vietnam War and when he retired from service, he purchased a crop duster to keep the bank from his doorstep. It was only him and me, I never knew my mum, as she had died from complications during my birth.

My Mum’s sister stayed with us during my formative years, she was a spinster and taught at the local school. A hard woman, who I think never knew love. She certainly didn’t show any to me. I always thought that she felt obligated to help out and didn’t have any time for herself. We were an obstacle in her path.

My best friend at school was Charlie, a local aboriginal boy, one of three at that school. We did everything together, after school and during holidays. He used to walk the 50 miles during holidays, from his family’s area, stay with us during the breaks and walk home again. Charlie could always outrun me, throw further and more accurately.

One day he said to me that there was going to be some sort of ceremony at his place. Men only he said. It was going to happen in three days. I told my Dad and Aunt that I would be going to Charlie’s for a week or so. Dad was kind enough to give us a lift, this time, and dropped us only ten miles from Charlie’s.

That night, when the ceremony was to take place, Charlie and I crawled on our bellies and hid behind a small bush to watch. It was a death ceremony, the elder who held the title of Traditional Healer, though I still called him a Witch Doctor, pointed a fragment of bone at some poor unfortunate fella whose only crime was to steal an axe head form his cousin. Charlie said the bone was hundreds of years old.

When we both got back to my place in a few days’ time, I told Dad all about it. His comment was, "Total bullshit boy, that poor abo will die but only because he believes he will. These fellas know the