Rumble of Distant Thunder

By B. Kristoff Jakksen

Our young people are dying, constantly being murdered by senseless acts of violence. They are dying in unprecedented numbersnot on the battleground of foreign landsbut in the schoolsand on the streets of their very own cities.

RUMBLE OF DISTANT THUNDER is a story born out of love and compassion for these children. For already in the distance an ominous cloud has formed forecasting destruction, wars, and global famine for their future. No one seems to care enough and so, they are become the forgotten ones. Violence is robbing our youth of the simplicity of pleasure, their childhood.

RUMBLE paves a way from such gloom that threatens to destroy our children and our society. It teaches self-respect and the value of human life.

Within the first chapters, you will meet SOJOURNER, a star-ship that is one of the principal characters. Its primary function is to travel the galaxies, while monitoring the "Chosen Ones" stationed throughout the universe.

You will meet Darius; a seventeen-year-old inner?city youth who is forced to ward off everyday events that threatens his survival.

Through a series of events and prophecies, he learns that there is a special call on his lifeand an inescapable destiny.

Young Darius and his friends have seen the results of living in such a violent and moralless society. He has seen childhood friends senselessly gunned down, others trying to escape by way of drugs, leaving to mourn their shattered lives friends and loved ones. Darius is troubled and saddened by all that is happening around him. Powerless to do anything about it for the moment, he pledges that somehow, he WILL make a difference.

The unsuspecting youth learns through an age?old prophecy that he is a prince and direct descendant of the Wantu?Wazuri, a supremely advanced race that had once visited our world over twelve thousand years ago. In their observation of human development, they were overwhelmed with concern for the children they were to leave behind. Upon their departure, they endowed the lives of these children with positive effects and indelible marks of more advanced and intelligent civilizations. Unbeknownst to Darius the prophecy is unfolding itself. Elsewhere in the Universe, the Council of Elders are convening and collectively using their telepathic powers to summon and prepare him for the leadership of his people.

As Darius appointed time draws near, he begins to speak out of love and self?respect to all that will listen, while Jamaal, a young, ruthless killer, and leader of a powerful drug?gang, is determined to protect his own interests. The escalating violence surrounding him continues to fill Darius with questions as he struggles to understand why, and the call on his life.

Through Ganna, his spiritual guardian and mentor, Darius knows he must accept his fate. The decision to leave Earth even temporarily is tough, but he knows that if his world is to survive at all, he must go.

Arriving with his family and some of his closest friends on Wantu?Wazuria, the Central Seat of government for the vast, expanding empire, the struggle intensifies as Efuru, the evil and manipulating wife of the late Emperor Nkombe?the?Great, attempts to thwart his ascension to the throne.

This humble, yet lion?hearted youth learns that for the last five hundred years, the Wantu?Wazurians were peaceful and prosperous people. Now, after the Emperors death, his wife fights to have her evil and treacherous son rule, despite the prophecies that the throne would be torn from her grasps and given to an off?worlder.

Ignoring the ancient prophecies, Efuru continues her campaign for her sons rights against the Will of God and the Council of Elders who had refused to reinstate him honoring the request of his father on his deathbed.

Prince Naamesis, extremely bitter over that decision, rebels and leads a revolt against Darius. But while on Khorsabad, a world outside the Empire, he is killed during an assassin

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 18, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469121345

B. Kristoff Jakksen

B. Kristoff Jakksen is a 51 year old native of Philadelphia Pennsylvania, and has been writing as a hobby since age 10. He is a graduate of West Philadelphia High School and Community College where he majored in secondary education and creative writing. He is married to Roberta Marie Jakksen and makes his home in West Philadelphia. He faithfully serves his church and his community, determined to make a difference in the lives of children.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

THE PROPHECY: SOMEWHERE IN TIME

Against a dark, threatening sky, an ancient dread-locked woman stared into the roaring flames of the tribal campfire as members of the Supreme Ruling Council gathered. Her sightless eyes mirrored the fire’s intensity revealing a supernatural strength far beyond the frailty of her flesh. Feared even above the chiefs of many tribes, she is called The GREAT-ONE. It was said that the sky-gods saw through her eyes, her voice when she spoke was as the voice of thunder. She alone possessed the keys to the mental storehouse of accumulated knowledge and power.

The approaching torrents falling in the horizon were a good sign. They would soon reach the village and bless the people ending the prophesied period of drought and famine.

The great fire quelled suddenly. Cinder and ash rose amid tempestuous winds as the prophetess began her chant. In the black distance, thunder and lightning’s fierce intensity gave her words impact.

Hear me now, my children! Soon, the Ageless Ones shall return to make things right. That which is now shall be no more! That which was shall rise again! When the Child of Destiny is born, there shall be great joy on all worlds. He shall grow and become very strong. He shall build upon the blood of the martyred ones before him, and shall lead his people forth into a new beginning. No more shall the despairing cry of the Wantu-Wazuri be unanswered. No more shall the spilled blood of our children cry out from the ground to be heard. For the silent watchers of the skies have indeed heard and have seen, and have responded to their plea. The CHOSEN ONE shall come forth in his time and take up the battle. Now rejoice — oh people; weary travelers out of time — rejoice! Our moment shall be again. For the mouth of the prophetess has spoken it!

THE PROPHECY PART II: A PERIOD IN RECENT PAST

A heavy snow fell against a city in slumber as a family gathered in a hospital waiting room for news of the birth of Natalie Prince’s first child. Ganna sat watching … knowing — waiting for the fulfillment of her words spoken so long ago. It was the night of the Destined One. Soon it would be time to bless the child and prophesy.

SOMEWHERE IN THE ETERNAL NIGHT OF SPACE

Sojourner touched telepathic life forms somewhere in an unknown universe, in another time and another place. It was self-sufficient, almost omnipotent; traveling as it had been designed to do in the vast, cold everlasting night of inter-galactic space. For aeons, it had traversed the cosmos, built by the Wantu-Wazuri; a race so advanced that it no longer needed such conventional transportation. But such methods pleased them. No longer human, but motes of sentient light, these entities, housed deep with Sojourner’s immensely long memory, were the sum-total of vast intellect that had colonized the known universe and now provided the energy needed to power their craft.

Sojourner patrolled the galaxies, insuring at all costs the continued existence of its charges. It knew each of its children’s voices; electronic messages received and analyzed, to be stored or acted upon. As long as there was no life-threatening interference, it was satisfied to pass along the outer-fringes of each galaxy.

For countless millennia, galactic sentinels had done their job, tracking and storing fathomless bits of information; glimmerings of knowledge from innumerable worlds, waiting for the precise moment when Sojourner would pass through their skies. From time to time it witnessed the birth of new worlds. It rejoiced and bided them farewell. On other occasions it witnessed the deaths of solar systems being ripped apart by their parent stars, and the global self-destruction of promising young civilizations. It grieved. But they were not its charges.

On still other occasions, Sojourner was privileged to intercept and decode messages from galaxies on the edge of forever. It gave no reply. Following its pre-determined course it continued to receive All’s Well signals from sentinels that were strategically planted on the highest peaks of all worlds. These codes formed the integral part of a vast communications network that linked its children together.

Development assured, Sojourner accelerated to faster-than-light speed, turning its attention toward the Milky Way Galaxy and the last outpost, a solar system orbiting a small yellow star. Falling toward the massive center, it slowed to sub-light speed and adjusted its course toward the remote outskirts of the Milky Way, to an obscured region near the edge of the distant spiral arm, then accelerated again to above light speed, continuing the eighty-two thousand light-year journey from the center to its final destination.

Sojourner had visited Earth aeons ago, bringing a crew of seventy-two that had given up immortality to help seed the New World. Approaching the first galactic sentinel it slowed to receive the stored messages. Thrilled with the prospects of what lay in store, it hurtled through time and space continuing to calculate the rapid rate of development.

Earth was young and offered the best chance for total achievement. When it was time, the Wantu-Wazuri would merge genetically with selected members of the human race. The nine-month transmutation cycle would be complete with the first newborns. Armed with the galactic heritage the newborns would lead man into the Neolithic Age, a period of dramatic, technological and sociological advancement. From that period to when Sojourner would again appear in Earth’s skies, twelve thousand years would pass.

Now less than seventy-five light-years away, it sensed something moving quickly toward it from Earth’s direction. The spherical wave front of bright intensity had not been sent from any relay or galactic sentinel; nor had it been sent from another advanced civilization. Sojourner reduced to light-speed; concluding that at least one world in that perimeter had achieved the technology needed to send messages into deep space. The signals frequently repeated themselves with startling clarity. Earth had been ravaged by two global wars and a third was imminent. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. The technical knowledge had not only served man to better his environment, but had also given him the ability to destroy it. From the continued barrage of broadcasts of sporadic wars and skirmishes, Man seemed determined to continue his downward spiral toward self-destruction. Sojourner grieved at the prospect. But what of its charges? Where were the Chosen Ones? It searched within but found no answer.

Suddenly, a powerful radio-frequency beacon approached. It was quickly intercepted and decoded. The Arecibo Interstellar Message began with a simple, almost childish mathematical lesson, then went on to describe some of the characteristics of terrestrial life on Earth.

Sojourner basked in its brilliance then continued on, leaving the transmission to its journey toward the galaxy’s edge and beyond.

The last galactic sentinel came into view. Sojourner quickly retrieved its contents. It learned that centuries earlier, the Chosen Ones had built great cities and rose to prominence and power. Eventually, because of internal strife and division, they were over-thrown and most of the peoples were either killed or deported from their homeland and sold into slavery. As servants of the world, they were looked down upon and despised. Accelerating to a tremendous speed, Sojourner hurtled toward its rendezvous. What would it find? Ignoring what had been Man’s Interstellar Greeting to other civilizations, Pioneer-10 sped across Sojourner’s path on its way into deep space. Sojourner entered a small yellow star system, speeding pass Pluto and its moons, Neptune; Uranus; Saturn and Jupiter. Finally, breaking its long code of silence, it sent its message to Earth’s listening skies.

Soaring passed Mars with its volcanoes and great canals, to within a few hundred miles of earth’s moon, Sojourner drastically reduced its speed and began its descent toward the dark-side of the lunar surface to wait.

* * *

Sojourner’s outer surface shimmered as it lifted from the lunar surface. It sensed that Earth’s scientists were frantically studying the Message for clues to its content and origin. Scanning all network communications, it found no mention of the Message anywhere. The proliferation of multi-language signals from literally thousands of worldwide broadcasts continued as usual. Sojourner sorted them out; welcoming them; analyzing and storing them. Until now, it had not made its presence known. It was still too far away for conventional technology to clearly distinguish. Sojourner left the moon’s orbit, estimating the quarter-million-mile journey to be negligible.

CHAPTER 1

The Unearthly Visitor

Santa Maria, Puerto Rico

Santa Maria, before the sinkhole was founded, had been virtually a ghost town. Debris from old canneries and fishing vessels damaged by past windstorms, silent reminders of once prosperous times, dotted the coastlines. But despite the plentiful sunshine and rolling hills that overlooked a lush green rain forest, and clear blue Caribbean waters, few tourists venturing into the area found little else in the way of attractions.

For ten years, the main road in and out, had been neglected and was in desperate need of repair. But the bankrupt government had all but written off the town and its main highway as too costly and of no major significance toward future planing.

However, despite the obvious set backs, its four thousand die-hard inhabitants never gave up. Tranquil Santa Maria still had lots to offer. The drugs and violence that ravaged most places had not plagued it. And soon after the geologists came with their instruments and heavy-duty equipment, the town began to make a startling comeback.

Located in one of the most fertile regions on earth, every precaution was taken to insure minimum damage to the surrounding environment. Even the telescope’s one-thousand foot dish filled a spherical bowl naturally formed from collapsed huge limestone caves that saved the cost of expensive excavation and construction.

Santa Maria had become the focal point between the City of Arecibo, and the newly constructed observatory housing the world’s largest telescope. Within two years businesses more than tripled.

With the added Arecibo facility on line at full strength, the constant search for extraterrestrial life took on an intense new meaning.

Manned continuously by dedicated scientists from all over the globe, Operation Morning Star was the greatest hope the world had in contacting extraterrestrial civilizations. Morning Star was Earth’s eyes and ears, listening and responding to the universal symphony of sound from countless billions of stars.

It was the first time in human history that such a concerted effort had been made to establish a dialogue with alien races. But to date, after many years of research and waiting, there had been no messages.

Dedicated scientists working at the facility spent long, untiring hours involved in SETI research and chose to live at the Arecibo Air Force base with their families to remain close to their work. Others lived off base among the inhabitants, despite the inconvenience of a daily fifty-mile drive and the language barrier that existed.

Dr. Julian Price, had been Project Director for the last five years, after having spent most of his twenty-year military service at the air base as a communications officer. But after his appointment, he decided to remain in Arecibo with his wife Angelita, and their fourteen-year-old son, Deighmion. Angelita died a few years later, after a lengthy illness.

Her marriage to an Afro-American soldier had sparked a hotbed of controversy. But most of the people who knew them had to agree no two people were ever more in love.

Shortly after her death, however, Julian became completely involved in his work, leaving very little time for his son. The neglect began to show in Deighmion’s openly defiant and often hostile attitude. He started hanging out with the wrong crowds and getting into trouble. Finally, out of desperation, Julian decided to ship him off to his grandparents in Santa Maria.

In no time at all, the boy settled down, enjoying all of the attention, especially from the girls, and the freedom and trust from his grandparents. His aggressiveness mellowed, and the charismatic youth made friends at school.

Ramon Caycoya, fifteen, had lived in Puerto Rico all of his life. From the very first day the two boys met, they hit it off, sharing their special interest in the stars and SETI research. Ramon joked that they were kindred spirits and probably knew each other in a previous life.

There was Michael Warrington, although he was the oldest at sixteen, with above average intelligence, he was shy and unassuming. For nearly all of his life, he had loved Astronomy and computers. No one would have ever suspected that this quiet, behind-the-scene kid at ten, who could rattle off the names and distances of even the most difficult stars, had hacked his way into the mainframes of several major corporations. But, despite his enormous talent, he was envious of Deighmion’s magnetism for girls.

* * *

Whenever Deighmion was lonely, or just wanted to think, he would ride his bike across the yard to Ramon’s house, and together they would head for the stretch of rocks high above the sea and listen to the surf as it rushed into shore. Avid fans of exterrestrial intelligence, the boys loved to lie on their backs and stare up into the heavens hunting for UFOs.

On many occasions they’d sit for hours watching the huge white-capped waves beat against the rocks below. During that time, they lazed about, just as they had always done, lost in thought, imagining what they would do if they actually sighted a UFO. Suddenly, Deighmion sat up and pointed. He was the first to see it, watching as the huge ship streaked across the heavens, paused in mid-flight, and then made a one-hundred-eighty degree turn about.

Ramon argued that it was a shooting star.

You’re loco, man!

Both boys watched as the bright orange object approached.

Does a shooting star do that? Deighmion mocked.

The youths were awestruck as they continued to watch. Their eyes widened fearfully. There was no longer any doubt now. They were both convinced that what they were seeing was definitely a UFO.

Frozen, the boys watched the glow of light reflecting in their faces, become like that of a sun going nova as it passed over head turning a segment of night sky into day. Within a matter of seconds, the ship had disappeared. The sky darkened again and the light vanished into the horizon.

Fear. The boys knew it all too well. They loved to be scared out of their wits as they watched endless hours of tapes and played video games of invading alien armies coming to conquer Earth.

Ramon shuddered in the chilly air and felt the safety of the sharp Machete strapped to his side. W-what was that?

Aliens! Deighmion replied. Some energy probe perhaps.

Let them come. I’m ready, he said waving his weapon about.

Deighmion laughed. You’ll need more than that, mi amigo!

The boys were quiet for a moment as they stared into the heavens trying to spot the UFO again.

It’s gone for good! Deighmion said disappointedly.

Was it really there?

Hell, yes! The teen said confidently. I know what I saw, man.

Bet its disappearance will leave your father’s people really bugged, uh?

Laughter.

Think it’ll come back, Ramon questioned.

Deighmion shrugged his shoulders. I don’t know. Come on, it’s getting late.

The boys clambered down from their retreat and headed for home. As they rode, warm, tropical breezes from the ocean made them feel good. For the first time since his mother died, Deighmion was really glad to be living on the island. Ramon guessed what he was thinking and looked across at him.

It was nearly dark. In one hour, the boys would be sitting to supper with their families. For a moment, Deighmion wanted to forget about what he had seen, filing it away for future reference. As they neared the final stretch of their journey, they met up with a couple of friends.

In order to get home from the beach, they had to ride up and down several steep hills.

Deighmion and Ramon rode in silence, keeping their secret to themselves, reluctant to talk about their experiences. Who’d believe us anyway? Ramon thought. Yet, they could not resist the urge to glance upward again. Even from where they were, they could still smell the ocean, and using just a bit of imagination, they could hear the shrill pitch of engines as a trio of UFOs suddenly broke through the water’s surface and soared into deep space.

An avid history buff, Ramon was lost in thought again. He was dreaming about Puerto Rico in its earlier days long before the Spaniards arrived. When they got there, they would have found him already there and king-of-the-hill.

Deighmion hated that dream and called it corny. But tonight, it was no small island dream they experienced. It was all too real.

Ramon looked across at Michael unaware that he had been the center of attention as they joked about his silence.

Laughter. Ramon always felt people were laughing at him. He hated to be laughed at. He darted a fierce glance at Denny, who instantly quieted and looked timidly at Michael as if to say, He started it!

What’s eating you, man? Michael asked out of concern.

Silence.

You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.

I don’t!

Upon entering the sections where the boys lived, Ramon’s worst fears were realized as three luminescent Creatures from the Black Lagoon suddenly approached out of the darkness, growling, and with weapons drawn. Before anyone could think, Ramon braked, unstrapped his machete and was swinging it about.

Deighmion shouted and stopped him just in time. Chill, man. They’re just kids. Let it go!

Ramon shuddered at what could have happened, breathed a sigh, and watched as the frightened children ran for home.

Man, you’re really paranoid! Michael said nervously. Suppose we weren’t here to stop you?

It ain’t funny, Mike. Deighmion defended.

No one said it was. Michael replied.

I’m cool, Ramon said, returning the machete to its holder. I’m outta here, dudes!

Deighmion waved to his friends as he rode across the yard into the small, two-story wood-framed house. Upon entering, he was greeted by the familiar smell of chicken, beans and rice cooking. He turned into the small eating area where his family waited and stopped suddenly, surprised to see his father.

What are you doing here?

Sensing the tension, his grandmother patted the empty chair beside her. Come sit down, Chico. Your father just wanted to surprise you. The least you can do is have dinner with him.

I ain’t hungry!

Sit down!

Deighmion shifted his gaze to his grandmother as he sat down. Their eyes met briefly. There was sadness in hers. He looked away.

Why won’t you look at me, son? Julian pleaded. I missed you. I had to see you again.

The boy gave his father a cold stare. Yeah, well, I didn’t want to see you.

Deighmion! his grandmother chided, setting a plate of food before him.

Julian never took his eyes off his son. No, I guess I deserved that, he confessed. But I did what I felt was right. You gave me no choice, Deighmion. Can’t you understand that?

No! It use to be you and me. We were once a family, and we had fun together. But then, you got caught up in your work. Now, you can’t blame my mother anymore. Deighmion dropped his head and stared down at his plate, shook his head to hold back tears and then looked at his father. Sometimes I wonder if you ever really loved me."

Why can’t you give your father a chance, son?

The boy gave a warning glance at his grandmother. You don’t understand! He slouched in his seat, his deep brown eyes intensely piercing, burning with rage as he looked back at his father.

Why are you looking at me like that? Do you hate me that much?

Deighmion remained silent.

Stop looking at me like that! Julian rose from his seat. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I was just wasting my time to think that I could find my son again. You’re just like your mother—stubborn!

Deighmion was on his father before he knew what he was doing. Julian grimaced under the assault.

Don’t talk about my mother, man, understand? Deighmion released his grip and pushed his father away.

Grandmother Carmelita stepped between them. "What’s gotten into you, Chico? You are acting like a child of the devil! Let me tell you something. Nobody loved your mama any more than your father. Nobody! How dare you lift a hand to him!

Maybe I am the devil! Deighmion said, storming from the house.

Julian was visibly shaken. He strained to fight back tears as he straightened his clothes, believing that he had lost his son’s love forever. He vowed that he would not stop trying—no matter what it took. The boy was all he had. He stepped outside and found Deighmion sitting on the veranda railing.

When I arrived here, I was worried about how I was tell you this, He began. You’re so angry at me now, I guess it doesn’t matter how I tell you.

Deighmion shifted his position and never even looked at his father.

What you talking about?

I’ve decided that maybe you’d be better off living in the States with your Uncle. That’s what I’m talking about.

Enraged, the boy turned sharply. Talk about bad timing. He snapped his fingers. Just like that, uh?

Just like that, son! Julian replied solemnly. You leave tomorrow.

Deighmion’s eyes widened. Suddenly the fight had gone out of him as the weight of his father’s words hit home.

There was nothing else to say. Julian left his son stunned and alone. Without even a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off.

* * *

Where are you going? Carmelita cried, watching as the boy headed out the gate.

Out!

Where?

Just out!

Deighmion pedaled quickly, ignoring his grandparents’ pleas for him to come back into the house. The deep hatred for his father swelled again. He felt betrayed and unwanted. And now his whole world was about to come crashing down around him.

By the time he reached Ramon’s house he had just about stopped crying and regained his composure. He leaned his bike against a palm tree in front and started to call out. But before he could, Ramon came out onto the porch and squinted in the moonlight in his direction.

That you, man?

Yeah, it’s me.

Ramon skipped down the long, steep steps and joined his friend. What’s s’up, mi amigo? He knew the answer. Your ole man’s been hassling you again, I see.

How you know?

It don’t take a genius to figure it out, man, Ramon teased. Look at your face. Besides, I heard you yelling way over here.

You’re lying!

Not!

Deighmion lashed out, smashing his fist into his open palm. God, I hate him!

You don’t mean that, Chico!

Yeah, I do! He was there when I got home

"Bummer, man. Why did he come?

I don’t wanna talk about it, Deighmion fumed. I gotta get outta here for a while to clear my head. You coming?

That bad, eh?

That bad!

Let’s go.

Without saying anything more, the boys headed up the road a while to Michael’s house where they met his two brothers playing an intense game of one-on-one against the side of the house. One of the boys made a dunk shot.

Yo, Steve, you seen Mike?

He’s inside, Ramon.

Despite the protests from his brother, Steven scored a three-pointer.

Game!

Bare-chest and wearing tight khaki cutoffs, Michael stepped from behind the screen-door bathed in an overhead light, which dangled from a thin, black wire.

Who calls my name? he challenged.

We do! Ramon and Deighmion echoed, accepting the challenge.

Then prepare to fight!

Michael closed the door and dashed down the wooden steps to the ground. He singled out Deighmion, squared off, and began boxing him.

Ramon watched. He knew that only in fun Deighmion would forget about his father and whatever else was bothering him. At first, he did not respond, but a resounding left jab smacking his shoulder, snapped him into a response.

Deighmion gritted his teeth, glanced a blow off Michael’s arm, then both boys begged off.

Can you come out, homie? I wanna show you something.

Yeah, sure I can, Michael replied, grabbing his bike from under the veranda. He glanced over at his older brother. I’m going out awhile, Steve. Ok?

Don’t do nothin I wouldn’t.

Yeah.

Together, under a full moon the three boys rode off into the night.

Where we going? Michael asked.

Just follow us!

A half-hour passed before they were riding along a very narrow dirt road, which twisted through a sugar-cane field. At night the beach was pretty, especially during the time of the full moon. There were a few wood-framed houses toward one end but the rest of the beach was just white sand and tall palm trees.

Ramon and I saw a UFO earlier, Deighmion confessed.

Michael stopped cold and confronted them, although all three youths were about the same age, Michael was noticeably taller.

Where?

Out over there! Ramon answered, pointing skyward in the direction of the Big Dipper.

Awesome! Michael exclaimed. Can we go to the exact spot?

I guess so. But it will take us a while to get there, though, Ramon admitted.

Michael shrugged his shoulders. I don’t care if you don’t.

I don’t care.

Then let’s go, Michael said enthusiastically.

The boys raced each other back along the narrow dirt road, the wind at their backs. They laughed merrily, forgetting about everything. For the moment, nothing else mattered. They were the Three Musketeers; All for one and one for all." It was the code by which they lived.

I gotta rest, dudes, Michael pleaded breathlessly.

What for, homeboy? Ramon replied, looking back. We’re here already. The rest of the way is on foot, just on the other side of those high rocks.

As they climbed, they could hear the roar of the surf two hundred feet below, as it crashed amid the jagged rocks.

You come here very often, Deighmion?

No, only when I want to be by myself to think, or with Ramon, or if my girl and me want to do our thing!

Michael looked down. You don’t be scared?

Of what?

Falling off!

No, man, that wouldn’t be cool.

Finally, they stood on top of the flat surface of the cliff looking down at the water. The waves were larger, rougher; being affected by the gravitational pull of the basketball sized moon. Deighmion felt a whole lot better now. He knew he could deal with any situation.

What you thinking about, man? Michael asked curiously.

Nothing. Deighmion replied

Is this where you saw the UFO?

Yeah, Deighmion answered, pointing. Right over there.

Michael craned his neck to see. I don’t see nothing.

Did you think it would still be there, stupido?

Chill, home boy, Michael replied. I was only joking.

Deighmion neared the edge of the cliff and sat, letting his legs dangle over the side. A sudden breeze blew his hair into wisps about his forehead.

I’ve never allowed anyone else to come up here with me except close friends, He admitted. And you’re only the fourth person.

But it ain’t just your spot alone, man, Michael replied.

Ramon turned sharply. He said, he never allowed anybody other than us to come up here with him. That’s all there is to that. He snapped defensively.

That’s cool, man.

Ramon picked up a few loose stones and began to toss them out from the cliff. The sound of them hitting the water was lost amid the surf. After he had tossed the last one, he looked into the sky at the many stars.

Have you ever seen so many of them? he asked, speaking to no one in particular. There must be thousands of them!

Billions, Michael corrected. Some of them have long since burned out thousands of years ago, but their light is just now reaching us.

How come you know about the stars, Michael?

Come on, Ramon, you gotta ask that? Like you don’t know, my mother is the Assistant Director at that Observatory. That’s all she ever talks about when I’m with her. His voice trailed off. Never about us.

For a brief moment, the young men were quiet each retreating into his world of thought. After hearing Michael, Deighmion thought about his father and their rocky relationship, wondering how things would have been if his mother hadn’t died. He felt cheated.

You ever see your father, Mike? Deighmion questioned.

Nope. He’s in the service somewhere in the world. That’s all I know about him.

You ever wonder about him. I mean, what it could have been like if you two were together?

Yeah, I thought about it. Michael answered sadly.

Deighmion was still thinking about his own situation. About moving away.

What about you, home boy? Michael began. How about you and your ole man?

What about him? Deighmion snapped. He fell back, locking his fingers together under his head. That observatory is his whole life—it don’t include me.

He tell you that?

No, he didn’t have to. Action speaks louder than words!

Deighmion thought about his friends and how the three of them had always been together since his move. He concluded that he loved them even more than he loved Teresa, his girl friend. He got up and went over to them. Both he and Michael stood over Ramon who was lying on his back with his hands locked under his head and an ankle across a knee.

There’s something I gotta tell you guys, he began.

What?

There was a long pause. Deighmion swallowed. He found himself at a lost for words. He thought about them, rehearsed them in every detail, but still couldn’t bring himself to tell his brothers. Now, as he stood there, he decided to be direct.

I-I’m moving to Philly, man?

Silence. Deighmion’s words were just too sudden, too instant for emotion to assert itself. Michael merely stared down at Ramon’s slender body and wondered why.

Ramon sat up. You’re kidding, ain’tcha, man!

No!

Y-yes you are, home boy, Michael said finally, fighting back tears.

Whose dumb idea was this? Ramon choked.

"My Pop’s.

Why?

I don’t know. I think he’s got it in for me.

The boys were silent again.

Hey, look, Ramon laughed. Home boy’s only moving—not dying!

Leave it to Ramon, Deighmion thought. He was always good at making things seem better, even if they weren’t. He might as well be dead; he was leaving his best friends.

You wanna go, man? Michael asked.

Hell no! Deighmion snapped, with a vicious grind of his teeth. What Poppa wants, Poppa gets. Never mind what I want!"

Ramon rose and stood in front of Deighmion. Suddenly nothing mattered; not the fact that they were standing only inches from the cliff’s edge or the beckoning death of the pounding waves below, not even the UFO sighting. Tears were usually hard to come by for the Three Musketeers, but now they flowed effortlessly.

When do you leave? Ramon asked wiping his tears.

In the morning!

That soon?

Yeah. Deighmion turned and looked out over the water. He didn’t want to see his friends crying anymore. He only wanted to remember the good times they had together. Now in just a few hours, it would all be over.

Ramon placed a hand on his shoulder. Deighmion turned and faced him.

It isn’t that bad, home boy, he said affectionately. We’ll get a chance to be The Three Musketeers again. I promise you this!

I’ll be back, home boys. I swear, Deighmion pledged. We’ll be together again, no matter what it takes!

The three youths huddled together. Michael looked at Ramon with a determined gleam in his eyes, then at Deighmion.

I’ll tell you this, homie, he began. His voice was breaking, straining to hold back emotion.

Don’t think that we won’t jump the next plane to Philly to get you if you don’t stay in touch!

His heart felt words made Deighmion hurt deeply inside. The boys kissed each other’s cheek; the symbol of their oneness, smacked fists, and then broke from the huddle.

L-look, I gotta go, now, Deighmion said tearfully.

But we won’t say Adios, Ramon answered, Vaya con Dios, mi hermano. Go with God!

Deighmion could feel both boys’ eyes on his back watching his descent until he had disappeared down the cliff and into the darkness. Then knowing both of them like he did, he knew that they would console each other, and turn again a misty-eyed gaze toward the stars.

CHAPTER 2

A Voice in the Wilderness

ARECIBO OBSERVATORY: (2300 HOURS)

Arecibo, Puerto Rico

Over the years, the search for extra-terrestrial intelligence had intensified with numerous reports of UFO sighting around the world. But not since "Operation Bluebook", abandoned by the United States Air Force decades ago, had there been such renewed interests. The Arecibo telescope was still the best of its kind anywhere. It was Earth’s ears, listening for any signs of intelligent life across the universe.

Cosmic sounds were categorized, controlled by small-computerized telescopes that constantly scanned the sky. Hundreds of detailed operations were handled automatically to insure that there were no mechanical or electrical problems or anything that could go wrong. But suddenly, what had otherwise been a routine review of data extrapolations gave way to immediate suspense and excitement when the Message arrived. Almost immediately, the handful of scientists and technicians, alerted on their beepers of the unfolding historical event began arriving at the observatory. The usually quiet room became a beehive of activity as key personnel entered and took their places at the consoles.

All eyes were glued to the large center screen as Dr. Julian Price, Director of the Arecibo facility, typed in the final series confirmation commands on his terminal. The screen responded, quickly displaying the locations of all radio telescopes in the network system. Over three-hundred-fifty telescopes had received the Message. Was it from the stars? Perhaps! The answer was not yet clear. But maybe the message was an elaborate hoax originating from somewhere on earth. Seconds later, when computers ruled out that possibility, the tension heightened. The last thing anyone wanted to acknowledge was that it was a legitimate message from another world. But there were still countless possibilities, all which had to be thoroughly investigated before an announcement could be made. But, what would happen in the next few hours would change the world forever!

NORAD COMMAND HEADQUARTERS

Colorado Springs, Colorado 2347 HOURS

The North American Aerospace Defense Command was a giant complex network hidden nearly half-a mile-inside the Cheyenne Mountain range. Its computers were electronically linked to U.S. defense satellites, optical tracking systems, and ground-based radar stations throughout the United States and Canada.

On a huge map that covered the center wall in the dimly lit strategy room, one could virtually see Earth’s continents and oceans, as well as the lines of latitude and longitude. The map was cluttered with strange looking symbols and signs, across its surface, meaning nothing to the untrained, but to those who keenly watched, they meant everything. Receiving up to the second information from satellite systems in space, they marked the known positions of every piece of war equipment on Earth.

The awesomeness of the giant board was dwarfed only by the decisions made in that room, decisions whether to go to DEFCON-3 from a peaceful status of green, or to DEFCON-2 when something became a clear and present danger, or even to DEFCON-1, when there was no other recourse.

Sojourner’s senses detected that major governments were already at their highest peak of alertness because of the escalating conflicts on the planet. In a few minutes, early-warning military satellites would detect its presence triggering a rapid series of events. The defense systems of every nation were poised and ready.

ARECIBO OBSERVATORY 2350 HOURS

Dr. Price had been the phone to NORAD to confirm that a message