The Fifth Origin. Genesis

By J. P. Johnson

Island of Mallorca. Port de Soller. Three people unrelated to their destination. A catastrophe that will bring Humanity to the brink of extinction. This is the first installment of the fast-paced saga that everyone is talking about.
Note by J. P. Johnson:Dear reader, the independent publication is wonderful and keeps literary works alive. Let's make the most of it. Interact with me, tell me what you think. I will answer you and take note of your suggestions. Your name or nickname will appear in future editions. You will be part of The Fifth Origin forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JPJohnson Books
• Release date: Jan 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463630679

J. P. Johnson

¡Hola! Soy Joan Pont, aunque publico algunas de mis obras como J.P. Johnson, encantado de conocerte. Vivo en la isla de Mallorca, la mayor de las cinco islas del Archipiélago Balear. Ese es el motivo por el que toda mi obra está impregnada de una "mediterraneidad" profunda y de una pasión desmedida por este pequeño trozo de tierra rodeado de agua salada. Me encanta el mar, practico el surf y el paddle surf y me indigna ver cómo estamos destruyendo este Mediterráneo que conforma el germen de nuestra existencia. Cada vez hay más plásticos y menos peces, pasan barcos a mi lado echando humo de sus motores arrastrando redes kilométricas que destrozan los fondos mientras grandes yates fondean sobre praderas de posidónea y al levar las anclas destruyen estas plantas que son los pulmones del mar. Por eso un día me puse a escribir "La venganza de la Tierra. Mare Nostrum". Porque, tal como explica Lovelock, algún día Gaia, la Madre Naturaleza, acabará con nosotros. En mi novela Gaia nos da un aviso que acaba con la mayor parte de la Humanidad, pero concediéndonos una segunda oportunidad que, como se ve al final, no será entendida por todos. Pere Quetglas sí lo entiende, y su cometido será, a partir de ahora, concienciar a los que han quedado para que no vuelva a repetirse. Mi última obra es "El Quinto Origen. Stonehenge". Tengo que confesarte que estoy completamente enganchado a ella. Me apasiona la historia de los seres inmortales, Jesús y Lucius, que construyen monumentos y luchan entre ellos a lo largo de la Historia. Al mismo tiempo me he enamorado de Mamen, una mujer increíble. En estos momentos estoy terminando la segunda parte de El Quinto Origen, llamada Nefer-Nefer-Nefer. Pero habrá más. Por supuesto que sí. Mi ilusión por la literatura nunca se va acabar, es algo que llevo infiltrado en la sangre, y la culminación de mi trabajo es que te guste mi obra, querida lectora, querido lector, que te enamores de Odisea Pascual y de Mamen Torres, tal como he hecho yo, que llores con Joanet y con Cristian, y que te quedes boquiabierto con la figura de Jesús a través de la historia de la Humanidad. Muchas gracias por leerme. Un gran abrazo.  

Book preview

THE FIFTH ORIGIN.

Genesis

J. P. JOHNSON

The Fifth Origin. Genesis

© J. P. Johnson / Joan Pont Galmés [2019)

All rights reserved.

For my wife and my son, my universe, what makes me immortal.

Hebrews 11: 5

By his Faith Enoch was transposed to not see the death, and he didn't find it, because God transposed him

Genesis 5: 22:30

And Enoch walked with God, after he begat Methuselah, three hundred years

Enoch walked with God, and he disappeared, because God took him

Methuselah lived, after he fathered Lamech, seven hundred and eighty-two years

And Lamech lived, after he fathered Noah, five hundred and ninety-five years

1. Mallorca island - Port de Sóller - Mamen Torres - Toni Figueroa -There is a fight - I created a hell - And I am a demon emerged from it.

That day’s afternoon in the Port de Sóller was developing normally until Mamen Torres and Toni Figueroa burst into the Eden hotel (Mamen's family owned the establishment), went to the bar counter laughing out loud and asked for two cocktails Red Sniper. Several footstools away was Lucius Umbert, sat with his elbows propped on the bar next to a small standing fan that circled silently as the flies buzzed excited by the heat and banged against the windows.

Can I open the curtain? Lucius said suddenly, his face, asymmetrical and furrowed by scars, towards the light.

The waiter nodded. The curtain was a heavy canvas. Lucius swung it open. Bright rays of sunlight penetrated the premises. Mamen Torres gave a moan at being dazzled. Toni Figueroa also narrowed his eyes, and fixed his gaze on Lucius' face, moving his jaws as if they were ordering and classifying the thoughts before sending them to his brain.

A while later, Lucius, his knuckles bloodied and an ugly cut on the left eyebrow from which a thick stream of blood flowed, stopped and looked at Toni, who was lying on the floor, and sensed, in a dramatic way, that he had had too much luck.

2. Toni call Gonzalez - Underwater noises - Chou-Chou - You find your biggest adversary when you think that part of your life has already passed.

Three hours later Toni picked up the phone, requested to speak with Gonzalez through a coded line and for twenty seconds told him what happened. Gonzalez seemed irritated, but said he would take care of it and it would take fifteen minutes, at the most. Then Toni looked up and observed the bay of Port Sóller with his sharp eyes. The sun was setting. Everything was linear. The Port looked like an ancient postcard. Toni wasn't a very tall man, but had a strong constitution and a weightlifter’s chest. His hair was gray and his eyes were very dark brown with a shadow of pigmentation on each one.

Who are you? And what the hell do you want from me?

Despite that unbearable throbbing in his temples he couldn't stop thinking about the guy who had attacked him at the hotel.

Suddenly his mobile phone started buzzing on the table.

What have you found? replied. Gonzalez's austere voice now had a calmer tone.

Nothing, another ufologist

Only ‘other’?

One more... That place is going to fill up with fucking amateurs if we don't hurry to find something... Everyone already talks about those underwater noises …

I don't think it is one more

Keep calm, it does not matter, it does not seem premeditated. He has just arrived from Mexico, he has written three shit novels and he has only a handful of euros in his bank account.

That's not enough for me…

Do what you want, but on our part there is nothing. We close it, there are other priorities. You have to focus on tomorrow's operation…

It does not convince me.

Why?

The guy knew that I would arrive. He expected me. I saw it from the beginning.

The problem can be the woman. We already alert you about that

I don't think so…

Gonzalez fell silent. At that moment Toni imagined him taking off his glasses, cleaning them with a piece of suede and fitting them back into his small ears.

Okay, I'll check it out again... But now focus on what I've told you. the Prime Minister asks for results. You have two more months, if not I'll send reinforcements.

Toni returned to walk the look by the arc of lights that framed the beach boulevard. He felt weird, quite strange. Intuited that in that Balearic Islands place was beginning a process in which many people would move in different directions from different starting points to perform missions they thought understood. And he didn't want to end up being one of them. No, not this time...

Suddenly an intense dizziness forced him to lean on the wall. Oh, the last days had been very hard, yes sir! That girl with whom he was dating lately, Mamen Torres... She never had enough, she always wanted more alcohol, more cocaine and more sex.

Now, returning to the present and looking through the window again at the intermittent, languid flashes of the Sa Creu lighthouse closing the bay, Toni asked himself if the conscience could become a disease and concluded that in an abnormal man, maybe yes; in a balanced man, full of health, of normal reflexes, he didn't believe it. He hadn't shaved in two days and his eyes, which were dimmed by the light from the ceiling lights, were cloudy. For a moment he looked like a man who had forgotten where he was.

Suddenly his jaw creaked as if it were to disintegrate. Surely it was going to hurt him a lot the next day with the ship’s movement. He had to be at nine o'clock in the morning at the Naval's dock base located at the north end of the port and embark on a reconnaissance mission for Navy divers to investigate strange sounds that had been heard for some time in a nearby place called Cala Tuent. Everything had started about four months ago, during the NATO Brilliant Mariner maneuvers developed north of the Balearic Islands. ‘Something’" had begun to interfere with countermeasure and self-protection systems for surface vessels and warning systems for submarines. So far the specialists hadn't been able to find out the origin, but the interferences were multiplying exponentially and the Balearic Islands had become a nest of spies overnight.