How Smart Is Your Phone – Sequel

By Jeremiah Thackeray Hoppenheimer

Invasive technologies and social media fed by mobiles will destroy your planet and the cyber-criminal is YOU.
Global warming, pollution of oceans and exhaustion of natural resources will pale into insignificance against this threat. Rampant uncontrolled technology, apps and social media platforms will end the world as we know it.
The sad reality – the one to blame is YOURSELF.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jan 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781528971089

Jeremiah Thackeray Hoppenheimer

The author is a professor of Mechanical Engineering, preferring to remain anonymous in his content.

Book preview

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Copyright Information ©

Jeremiah Thackeray Hoppenheimer (2021)

The right of Jeremiah Thackeray Hoppenheimer to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

The story, the experiences, and the words are the author’s alone.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528942294 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528971089 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2021)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

The Preface

Within the closing paragraphs of the last book, the reader was asked to consider what was fact, fiction, reality or imagination. Hopefully, they are now some way further forward in coming to their own conclusions. They were also promised that the follow-up on the sequel would go in some way to address the topics. An apology is necessary because additional research and consideration have highlighted that the situation is far worse than originally judged; consequently, this book is the second, of an ultimate three and within the third, solutions will be proposed.

Please do not dismiss this volume, because, by content, it is probably more important than the first. There is still the positive link running through, what your Smart Phone and unregulated technology are doing, but now we can add in additional infrastructure, to demonstrate and highlight the true, but as yet the un-measurable magnitude of the situations, facing the world as we know it. However, for every new release of Smart Phone, with associated technology, and the now creeping Artificial Intelligence, the technology disease multiplies exponentially, changing human intelligence, intercommunication with social division fuelling isolation, which will become irreversible. A new commandment now exists, do not covet my Smart Phone, Tablet, Wide screen television, Automobile or Lifestyle. Again the subjects will be controversial and generate discussion.

Without disclosing content, here are a few headings:

America is a flagship, driving communication and Interpersonal decline, through applied technologies and use of Social Media, Mod icons, Texts, Cropped words, Limited use of Vocabulary, Word exposure and Acronyms.

There are now generations who can only communicate using a combination of the above and cannot read an analogue clock, only digital.

By inheritance Jeremiah has become the richest person in the universe, with the ability to segregate America from East to West coast, creating a new North and South America of independent states independent of each other. In probability, run by the returning Kennedy brothers.

Russia is covering the world’s satellite blind spots with their own, sending out erroneous information, but controlling the world.

The Crucifixion of Christ was a mock demonstration agreed by Rome. He survived to die of natural causes but left behind twin boys so his bloodline continues.

There are two additional Holy Grails and Arcs of the Covenant. Each well-guarded to this day.

The Channel Islands were to be used as extermination fields, after the war, had Germany won.

The Queen has decided to dissolve the monarchy and construct a new Yacht Britannia.

Selfless and the obsessive use of handheld communicators is now a resistible physiological disease.

We consider the probability that Martians are already amongst us, forming the core of alternative gender groups, fuelling population decline.

God and Lucifer will probably reunite as brothers.

The final book will commence with Jeremiah meeting Lucifer, understanding how he exists and works and why he cannot penetrate true love, propelling Jeremiah to seek and establish what love means and how it may be applied to resolve many of the issues raised, to redress the technology human balance. Or as Lady Helen summarised, in the beginning, you set out to find out what happened to Joseph and look at where we are now, heaven knows where trying to understand love will lead you. The above is not a full listing.

As stand-alone headings, they appear to be independent but in the following chapters, you will see how they interact. Once they have done so, overlay with what you already know your device to be capable of and you will be compelled to form and drive your own propositions and solutions, to regain control from the device designers and manufacturers, who are currently faceless and place their organisations above any lawful control, as if they are gods themselves.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Chapter One

Helen Re-Reads the Diary

Walking from the bedroom through into the sitting room, I pick up the morning mail from the doormat and continue into the kitchen, where Helen is preparing a pot of fresh coffee, which smells divine.

I thought we would have coffee, juice and pastries in the summerhouse. It is such a beautiful autumnal morning, I say.

Yes, I agree. Anything interesting by the post? she asks.

No, just the usual ubiquitous junk mail. Setting it down on the table for her to look at later, I comment that it would probably be easier if we placed the shredder outside, so Mark the postman could place the junk and shred, thereby cutting us out of the process.

Oh, so feeling grumpy are we. Come on, otherwise the coffee will go cold.

We sit. Helen, pours the coffee and comments that she had a very restless night, could not shake the diary out of her thoughts and has therefore decided to stay in the summerhouse, with coffee, to read the contents cover to cover and try and understand what my three days away were about and what had I been involved with.

Yes, that is an excellent idea, because until you have, we cannot discuss and I can tell you nothing.

As I said over supper last night, the words are in my head, but cannot pass my lips, until you understand what did occur. The only thing I can confirm is that it was all-good and the people I met were very kind, amenable, intelligent and could not have looked after or entertained me better from start to finish.

She gives me one of her warm understanding smiles and places her hand upon mine, as if by acknowledgement. I assume you will be going to the shop and leave me in peace.

I nod, with a smile and comment how beautiful the garden looks, especially the changing colours on the trees, but while fantastic to see and experience, we know we are heading for the bleakness of winter, but this will be offset, by the nice warm glow and crackle of wood burning in the hearth and the waft of wood smoke, occasionally as the wind draws down within the chimney. I let my thoughts wander and reminisce on how we would borrow our friend’s dog Churchill, an English springer spaniel, who on some days we would walk in the woods, amongst the carpet of fallen leaves and see him chase around after squirrels, as they scamper from tree to tree or scavenge for acorns to store in their own special places. Churchill started out as a trainee guide dog puppy, but he failed the testing grades and our friends took him on to be a pet. I say friends with reservation, because we used to be so close and social, talking most days and meeting up at least once a week for lunch or supper, but once Churchill became a permanent item within their home something in the relationship changed. Between the two, one wanted a dog, while the other did not and we think this created a rift. Now they lead virtually separate lives, which is sad, but the really sad part is the one who did not want a dog now bears the brunt of virtual full-time care, because the husband works unsocial hours, plus we and others think he is having a quiet, but not very discreet, liaison with a married woman where he works and one or both of their sons have come out recently. We were alerted to this by another friend, who is a trained observer for the border agency in people watching, body language and facial expression. We did not comment directly upon any of these observations but just said if they collectively or individually needed any assistance, whatsoever please call. That never happened and they just pushed us further away. For me, with a history of losing friends and people, it was easy, but I know deep down how much this hurt Helen, which I could not forgive even if asked. Helen makes a lifelong friend, until hurt and then she can be a very wilful enemy. All very sad and demonstrates how quickly relationships can falter, unless people constantly work together, supporting each other, understanding each other’s needs or points of view, either good or bad, but just ignoring allows Lucifer to spread his net wider, while he watches on, laughing, until he can capture their broken hearts and souls.

My mind then drifts back to the unrequested or solicited mail and I muse, What a waste of money, time and effort and how if eliminated, the whole surface postal system could be far more efficient. Maybe, within my cabinet, I will appoint a section to implement an overhaul, plus the closure of all social media sites, which not only permits hateful, anonymous propaganda and used to radicalise innocent people of all origins, denominations or creed but would force people back to communicate upon a personal level, once again, hopefully rebuilding an interactive closer society that once existed, as opposed to people working, living or communicating in isolation and loneliness, hiding in the shadows.

Helen interrupts my thoughts, If you are not careful in your trance, you will spill your coffee. Where were you?

I try to explain, but the words fail and I have to repeat my new inability of spontaneous verse, qualifying that hopefully by the next time I see her later, normality will have returned. I make a light joke and say, Let’s call it travel fatigue or time lag.

She playfully slaps my thigh, Time lag, I know you better, you were just back to yesterday evening, and salivating at the new boots I modelled for you.

Yes, you are right, I was and hopefully, you can repeat the process soon, I said just to show that I was not delirious and overcome with euphoria and outward delight at such a beautiful sight.

Go on, off with you to the shop and we will see soon, you wistful rascal.

I drain my coffee, give her a kiss on the forehead turn and say, See you later.

But she stops me in my paces by calling out, You have never kissed my forehead, where has that come from?

I respond, I have no idea. But hoped she found it a new twist to my being romantic.

She gives me one of her looks that could destroy a chieftain tank at full speed. Go on, I will call you at the shop later.

As I enter the shop picking up yet more junk mail, I turn on the lights and check my diary. Yikes, I had forgotten that the Ashford-Hodges were coming at twelve to collect the restored rocking horse. I quickly sift through the post, discarding most to the hungry shredder jaws, but there is one plain standard size blue envelope addressed to Mr G and H Hoppenheimer at the Rocking Horse Shop, Burnham Market, Norfolk. Looking at the rear there is a red wax seal embossed with the Tower of London Coat of Alms. Not wishing to break the seal, I commence to use a letter opener along the top seam but got interrupted by a flutter to my left temple. I touch and it is Bryony, we exchange quick pleasantries and she explains that tomorrow she, Babushka and Ramius are travelling to meet with President Putin at the Kremlin. However, en route to collect them, she will be unaccompanied and needs to urgently meet with myself and Helen to give us induction and documentation, for working within our new dual lives, but more importantly to explain to Helen how this works and if she agrees, Bryony can fully induct or if not can initiate selective memory and voice repetition. I acknowledge and comment she is reading the diary, as we communicate and will be in a good decision making position by tomorrow.

Excellent, shall we meet at your pub, the Hoste, at one o clock and if possible, maybe James could show me some of the suites, just in case I ever need a break from staying in London.

I respond, I am certain he will be delighted to do so. Well, until tomorrow and looking forward to being with you both, plus James. Bye. My temple flutters and the link has gone.

Returning my attention I complete opening the envelope and extract the contents of heavy gauge folded paper. Unfurling, I immediately note that it has the crest for the jewel house at the Tower of London. I quickly scan for the sender’s signature, which is Marlin. My mind races to my in-head filing cabinet. Opening the file, I read about the Ravens of the tower and how history dictates that if they ever left then England and her empire would fall and so to this day there are ravens and a full-time ravens warden to care for them. Ravens mate for life and each morning and evening the warden uses a small whistle to call them in or out of their sleeping boxes, for their daily duties of posing for tourists. However, there is one exception and her name is Merlin, she has no life mate attachment but considers the warden to be her soul mate and she is with him all day. The two can often be seen posing for pictures with her sitting next to him, but never touching. She has her private quarters away from the other birds, within the jewel tower, but at all times she is the matriarch and is often observed whipping and chasing the other birds back into order, should she consider their behaviour to be inappropriate in representing the Tower of London. I close the file and start to read the document.

Dear Jeremiah and Helen.

I have been instructed, at my majesty’s pleasure, to convey an invitation for you both to stay, as private house guests, at Windsor Castle next weekend.

If agreeable, to arrive upon the Friday afternoon around three and depart at your leisure on Monday.

Prince Charles is hosting a polo match, upon the Saturday afternoon, for some chums from Brunie, but will be joined by Camilla after the match. They will meet you both, with Elsbet and Pip for a private supper, on Saturday evening. Then on Sunday for lunch, you will also be joined by Babushka, Bryony and Ramius.

Attire is smart casual and country weekend.

The forecast is good and weather permitting, Elsbet would like to carriage ride with Helen in the great Park, to see the trees and Pip will introduce yourself to clay shooting.

I am aware that you will be meeting with Bryony tomorrow, so please just indicate to her that the above is acceptable, bypassing this letter and envelope to her.

I think you already understand how the system of networks, for the protection of our world and life partners, operates, hence why it was myself who was chosen by my queen to write to you.

If by chance anyone who is not a life partner or under consideration to be so (except Helen) sees this letter it will be a blank sheet of paper, as will the address, seal and envelope address, giving total anonymity.

I remain my queen’s obedient servant and look forward to meeting you both, in due course at my home or at other ceremonial duties.

Sincerely. Merlin.

I smooth the document out again, reread, then fold and return into the envelope to show Helen.

Just as I do so, there is a tap at the door and in walk the Ashton­Hodges. It is almost as if I am invisible because they immediately surround the horse and go into raptures about how it has transported Mrs Ashton back to her childhood nursery at Spain’s hall, just outside the village of Finchingfield where they now live.

They caress the mane and tail and run their hands over the leather and paintwork. Then as if a bubble had burst, they notice me. She embraces me in a bear hug, with kisses, while he with a very firm handshake and man hug. In vocal unison, they cannot thank me enough for the delivered project, which started out as a broken set of wooden pieces, some fractured, some with wet or dry rot and woodworm infestation. They return their attention to the horse and I flip my mind back to supper with Sylvester Frankenstein, where he compared our skills, as not so far removed from each other’s. The three of us discuss the details for repatriating the horse, now named Neddy and if possible could it be Friday next week. I pretend to consult my diary and comment that I am indisposed, but can we make Thursday afternoon. This is agreeable and set for three o clock at their cottage. They then take a number of photographs, we all hug again and they depart.

My mobile device sounds a hunting horn, which is an incoming text. I read it. Jeremiah, we need to meet urgently re the diary. Meet me in the garden at The Hoste, at two o clock and if you value our marriage, do not be late. I sit bewildered, what on earth could have happened since I left her not more than three hours ago.

No kisses, hugs or pleasantries.

I check my watch and have an hour until we meet. Trying hard, but not very successfully, I sift through the mail and remember that I planned to visit Greenwich Observatory and The Queen’s house tomorrow with Achilles. I tap my temple and he answers, I explain about Bryony’s unscheduled visit and request that he continues as planned, but without me, to inspect the site, Queen’s House and facilities of accommodation, plus offices for our base, of initially twenty gentlemen and possible five women at a later date. He confirms and suggests we will meet at the shop, at nine the following day and then travel together over to Greenwich. Farewell, my friend and I tap my temple to break the link I walk to The Hoste and through into the courtyard garden. It is resplendent in bright sunshine and there are couples of groups sitting at tables around the perimeter. In the centre, I see Helen. She is wearing flat slipper-like shoes, check trousers and a black high neck blouse, her hair is tied back to form a ponytail, high upon the crown of her head, resembling a horses tail, at the base, next to her head is a red ribbon bow, reminding me that with real horses, this is a protocol, to tell the horse may kick out without warning. I hesitate and think this is not a typical look for Helen when outdoors enjoying the social exchange. I muse, it is strange how females are able to dress or create a setting or aura, for demonstrating their mood or intention. I think, just maybe I am about to face the music about the last few days.

I walk towards her, she looks deadpan faced with no makeup and with piercing eyes, she does not greet me as such but instructs that I must sit opposite, so she can look me in both eyes. I do as instructed and see there is a gin and tonic for herself and a pint of lager, which I detest, for myself.

Without hesitation, she launches, WHO IS BRYONY, HOW OLD IS SHE, YOU STAYED IN THE SAME HOTELS, TRAVELLED TOGETHER AND SUPPOSEDLY YOU HAVE SOME PICTURES. The onslaught stops. WELL, I DEMAND TO KNOW EVERYTHING.

Yes, however, can you first explain your demeanour, so I can understand why you are so mad at me?

In a consolatory tone, she explains that she has read the diary twice, from cover to cover and can barely believe what she has read, the people involved and what I have been appointed to undertake. She comments that if true, it could all be plausible. She further explains that at any point in time, if she did not understand or tried to re-read a section, the text would take over and annunciate to her, in a very cultured, sophisticated manner, but with a slight Russian accent.

I nod, Yes, that will be Babushka, but I knew nothing of the text’s ability to annunciate.

Very well, now what about Bryony?

I try to explain that yes she has impeccable taste and dresses beautifully, very educated and dedicated to Babushka, as is Ramius.

Ah, more of him later. Continue.

"Fresh faced and complexion, not drawn with over make up. Additionally, very observant and precise. As for her age, I would estimate maybe mid-thirties, but I could be wrong, by at least a margin of one hundred, given the age and stature of others such as Sykes, Harriet, Panayiotis, Dracula and others."

Her face softens and there is a glint of relaxation. The text refers to pictures at the Brussels airport, may I see?

I open my device, but cannot bring up any pictures, See, I knew it.

Please, I comment, give me just a minute and hopefully, things will be far clearer, by the end of the next hour. I tape my temple to mind wire Bryony, who answers immediately. I explain and she comments that she anticipated this situation and hence the meeting tomorrow.

Please, for a moment place your index finger upon the right temple of Helen. She is not currently equipped, but we can conference call.

I do so, remain silent while they converse, it appears to go well, Helen smiles and I remove my finger. Bryony now tells me to relook for the photos and I confirm they are there.

Please show Helen and then they will erase again.

I thank her and the link is gone.

Helen looks aghast at what has just happened. So mind wire is true!

Yes. Please, this is Bryony.

Helen scrutinises the photos. Smiles and comments, She is beautiful. You old fraud, you always knew how to find a looker. She continues, I will meet her tomorrow.

Correct. Well, I am glad, we can be open enough with each other, no secrets, but golly, depending upon Bryony tomorrow, your, I mean our, lives will never be the same. Quite so, but there is just an additional piece to the puzzle. I explain about the Tower of London but in particular Merlin.

She looks quizzical, Jeremiah, you have just filled one hole and are now digging another.

Please trust me. I pass her the envelope and she admires the wax seal, extracts and reads, just for once her jaw drops and she rereads. Placing the letter and envelope upon the table she regains composure. So it is all true. I nod, with the exception to this new invitation, every word, syllable, question mark and comma.

She looks around and catches James’ attention, "Please, we need one large Remy XO, a large Ammeretto and a bottle of Krug, with a sharing platter of cheese, in that order."

James nods, departs and returns with the spirits. Placing them down, he notices the paper and envelope. May I? he enquires, feeling the quality, commenting, beautiful, just the standard of stationary for your shop. They are all blank as predicted. We finish our drinks, cheese and fizz. Helen comments how much she is looking forward to tomorrow and will be fascinated to meet and hear what Bryony has to say.

She continues, Come on, I need to get home and change into something more becoming and feminine. These flat shoes are killing my feet and I need to wear my stilettos to be comfortable.

I comment, Maybe the new boots.

Wow tiger, but I must admit they are extremely comfortable.

I muse, welcome back Helen and on the side.

Chapter Two

Helen Meets Bryony

Helen was excited at the prospect of meeting Bryony, but equally a little unsure, which was strange considering she is a very direct and positive person. She keeps asking what to wear, about her hair and so forth. I politely suggest that I run a few errands, go to the shop and I will meet her in the garden at the pub as planned. My logic is that left to her own devices and me out of the way, she will settle down accordingly, plus I could not be blamed for inadequate advise upon choices etc.

Oh, OK. Very well, off with you. I step out and it is a fine morning, with a little crispness in the air, but the sun is breaking through and it has the making of a fine day. My errands were a ruse to exit the house earlier than necessary and I walk straight to the shop. After entering and sitting at my desk, I start to ponder the reason for Bryony’s urgency of visiting, maybe the senate had had second thoughts about my appointment, but my logic is telling me that would be illogical, bearing in mind all that had happened and those involved to bring about the decision, in summary, on New Year’s Eve. Plus, I still had mind wire and Achilles. Just by way of confirmation, I mind wire and he answers immediately. I annunciate, Good morning, how are you getting on?

Yes, good morning. Very well. I am just completing my first tour of the observatory and associated buildings, now heading over to the Queen’s House. This is a truly fascinating place, very tranquil and quiet, but I assume it will get busier at public opening times. However, there appear to be many potential locations for our team to work unnoticed and blend in.

Excellent, well I will let you continue and see you in the morning at the shop.

Very good and please say hi to Bryony from me.

I tap my temple and the link is gone. So no concerns there then. I switch on my computer, check, answer e-mail and delete junk. Quite unexpectedly and without keying in any request of information, the screen fills with details concerning the SS Titanic and its tragic sinking. Why, I cannot fathom, but it is a topic of interest, so I start reading, then without realising I have been reading for the last forty minutes. It was truly tragic, but while many were lost there were survivors and anecdotes about several prominent society people, but also of those who were just passengers sailing to start a new life in America. I finish reading and close the