When Dolphins Ruled the Earth

By Shane Anthony Carvalho

When Dolphins Ruled the Earth is a satirical fantasy, following the plight of Adam Barnard as he journeys from a successful business executive to a genuine human being.

Adam encounters a strange nurse, a curious Scottish salmon, and dolphins with arms and legs, who speak perfectly good English. The Dolphins tell him they once ruled the Earth; they had jobs, houses, cars, Governments, banks, supermarkets and incredibly some dolphins were even estate agents!

Adam, along with Professor Van Halen and a Dolphin called Zinc must find secret scrolls, which reveal how to fight against global greed and defeat man sharks; before the entire planet is engulfed in total confusion.

When Dolphins ruled the Earth is complete, coherent and well written, it is often very funny, and the story simple and compelling. I enjoyed it very much.
Simon Maginn - Writer of the Sheep, filmed as The Dark, starring Sean Bean.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504945189

Book preview

When Dolphins

Ruled the Earth

Shane Anthony Carvalho

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AuthorHouse™ UK

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2015 Shane Anthony Carvalho. 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.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/12/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-4517-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-4518-9 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

1. And Then There was Light

2. Work

3. The Crystal Tablet

4. Holiday

5. The Petrified Forest

6. Dolphins Ruled, Okay?!

7. Atlantis

8. The Practically Realistic Room

9. Back Then

10. The Ultimate Dolphin War

11. The Pyramid Puzzle

12. Another Planet

13. Wanted Dead or Alive

14. Court in the Act

15. Anti-Rights

16. Seeing the Light

17. The Delphi Code

18. Cromwell’s Army

The National debt; what a monstrous idea, that a nation is to be bound to its ruin, by individuals to whom it owed money

William Cobbett

Prologue

In recent years, scientists have discovered prehistoric dinosaur bones that closely resemble well-developed arms, hands, legs and feet; they suggested that this showed dinosaurs were developing, and had it not been for the meteorite that caused global devastation, resulting in their extinction, these creatures could have advanced into intelligent beings. They were, in fact, totally wrong.

The bones that they found had been stored deep in a vault of an ancient Aztec tomb; even deeper into the vault lay a box containing parchments that explained why, and told to whom these bones belonged. Unfortunately, these scriptures had been moved and hidden in another tomb by a being that knew humans were far too unintelligent to understand their true meaning. The being that hid the secrets was an Aztec man named Archibald the Mad; although completely sane; because he questioned his Aztec bartering sales targets he was labelled as mad. He did have one supporter, his wife Gladys the Gorilla, who did not physically represent an ape but had powerful views; she believed that constantly increasing targets caused pressure and stress, and she also held strong opinions on women’s rights, suggesting females should not be chained to the kitchen or be mere instruments for childbearing purposes. But she also believed there was absolutely nothing her husband or any of mankind at the time could do about it.

The Aztecs worshipped the Sun god; as a sacrifice to appease the giver of light and life, they slaughtered their own people—those who had failed to reach their sales targets—and offered the decapitated bodies as an apology for their poor performance. Then, one bright sunny day, God sent down to the tribe super-intelligent beings that took the form of humans to teach them the beauty of life, science and mathematics, introducing much more interesting things than ‘barter one and get one free’ at the local markets. Finally, there was a new meaning to life and to the world, something beyond the sky, something deeper in the depths of the sea; meaningful things to invent that were more stimulating than trying to develop a supermarket trolley to go in the direction you are pushing it.

But disaster struck God’s disciples when they revealed the secrets of their evolution—the sun was just a simple star, they had not come from the sky and were not gods, and worshipping them was really rather silly. The once adored beings were now hunted down and condemned as freaks of society, charlatans who were secretly plotting to overthrow the present Aztec leadership. The people in power wanted to eliminate this threat, fearing these mere mortals would take control of their own established government, banks and lucrative chain of supermarkets. So in fear, the Aztecs slaughtered the super-intelligent creatures that had educated them; they understood that power was no good without control, and so created new gods in their own image, started new religions, devised new laws to control the masses and made taxes compulsory. The Aztec leaders gained power, control and money; all they needed to do now was work on the trolleys.

Archibald the Mad had witnessed the slaughter of the super-intelligent race, and he was not sure why they had been condemned in such a way, because intelligence would never have developed at such a speed without them. He considered jealousy the only plausible reason for their destruction. He was right. His actions, with the aid of a few remaining super-intelligent beings, preserved the evidence, the strange writings and the cryptic formulas that proved these beings were truly the source of wisdom and knowledge that brought intelligence to mankind, without which the human race would have developed at a similar speed to the dinosaurs—very slowly, or not at all.

Eventually, analysts were created, and these overpaid beings predicted that power, greed, weapons, devious companies and monopolised businesses, along with governments, banks and supermarkets, would destroy the planet. They would, of course, be proved right.

Unless someone could stop them!

If you think the Government don’t know what they are doing—you would be wrong, it’s far worse than that!

Shane Carvalho

1

And Then There was Light

He awoke to darkness, a darkness that was darker than anything he had ever known, void of light, with no shapes, outline, shades or tones; a silent emptiness that devoured his entire body. Numb and motionless, senses deprived, his memory extinguished, and without the saviour of a past, he was suspended in nothingness, far away from where light gave meaning. With no past or future thoughts, his present mind desperately tried to establish something cohesive, but the darkness engulfed and strangled such impetus, and was only prepared to offer a solitary emotion: fear.

The agony continued. He had no idea if time had ever existed; if it did, immeasurable amounts of it had drifted by. Where, why and who were unanswerable questions that supported his timeless existence. Explanation is the understanding of reason, but some moments are unexplainable, and sometimes things happen for no apparent reason. Without warning, somewhere deep in his mind, something reacted; a variable nomadic particle, lost, collided with an innocent cell, sending electrical shockwaves across his mind, awakening dormant information that fought for recognition as they surged into his thoughts. He had a past, and at some point in that prior existence, a life.

Adam Barnard. He knew his name, and his job—a management consultant for Colon, Rickets and Pukes Management Specialists. Important answers were pouring into the area of his mind normally used for temporary purposes, almost throwing him into overload and possible shutdown. He tried to calm his thoughts, release the anger and frustration that comes with not knowing what is going on, and then knowing what is going on. Forty-two years old, tall, fair-haired, a wife, three children, a dog, a cat, a rabbit, a big house, two cars, reduced staffing levels, bigger targets, less customer service, eight billion pounds profit and the latest high-tech mobile raspberry.

Knowing you have a past brings significance and reassurance, but Adam’s present state was an unresolved issue; he needed to know how he had arrived at this unexplainable point. Perhaps, he feared, it was the ‘red dragon’ as it was known in the pressure rooms of its victims—extremely high blood pressure. What his Auntie Molly had said would happen to him if he didn’t slow down. She repeatedly told him he was unfit, did not eat healthily, needed regular exercise, and would fall victim to the dreaded curse of stress.

Suddenly, information was entering and leaving his mind virtually at the same time. First, he had three children, then six, and most of them were goldfish. What was happening? He needed help. If he could have called his Auntie Molly, then he would have done so, but now he actually doubted whether he even had an Auntie Molly. He seemed to be consumed by his own thoughts, which hugged him like a long-lost friend while slowly twisting a knife into his back.

Adam pondered his one-dimensional world, where answers were full of uncertainty; he needed statistics and information to understand and confirm the validity of his present condition. Every thought found itself on unfamiliar ground, gracefully dancing with doubt; his confused mind drew a meaningless blank and his rhythm lost its beat. In the past, problems were overcome with business plans, conferences, research, focus groups and reports, calculations that established a route to the solution, or at least an evaluation for another meeting. These figures helped to construct his life, establish a purpose, build a routine, prepare solid ground to stand on; he was a man who needed answers, answers based on reality, not on unexplainable predicaments. Fear had outgrown puberty and developed into panic.

He considered his predicament. Clarification of his dilemma equated to only two things: one, he worked for the local council, or two, he was dead. The shock that either option could be possible should have shut down every electrode in his brain; no more thoughts ought to have ever been formed. But realistically, logic summoned the only remaining credible suggestion—no one with an ounce of common sense worked for the local council, so he must be dead.

At forty-two years old, Adam felt much too young to be dead. He had been a successful management consultant to some of the biggest companies in the world, a decision-maker who thrived on the pressure, the deadlines and the daily stress. Besides all this, he had far too much work still to complete. Being dead was infuriating. He simply had no time for such a frivolous activity; it was nonsense. While his anger focused on his terminal injustice, his memory was installing the required flashbacks, a final journey to conclude the precis to his life. What had he achieved, and did it matter anyway?

Flashbacks began like a cinema promotional screening, carefully edited for maximum impact, with a deep conclusive voice-over. There he was, the young Adam Barnard, a montage of youthful innocence. His mother encouraging her son’s intellectual appetite; his father—a military official—strong, disciplinarian, demanding honesty at all times, but not always there to enforce such dictatorial status. His near drowning at primary school sent shivers of terror down his imaginary spine, the bullying at grammar school, the knowledge he gained at university, the delight of his graduation, the joy of his marriage, the happiness of having his three children, the pride in the success he had achieved in his job; all framed and highlighted in an end-of-life book.

To be dead gave an explanation for his condition, the equilibrium he needed, but death seemed so final. His brain could take no more; it had to induce basic functionality, similar to his local government offices, where simply nothing could be done today. It would need several meetings, a focus group, a senior managerial investigation and an independent review with a full in-depth report. This he understood; a business needed to be complicated—it created jobs, and problems could be hidden. Adam did the only sensible thing; he let his brain shut down, abandoned panic in the waiting room, with the suggestion to come back another day, but only between the times stated on the door. Today, there was nothing that could be done about being dead.

His mind had continued to drift aimlessly in its redundant state, until he noticed a small glow appear in the distance, quite faraway at first, like a distant sun; slowly it moved closer, and became stronger and subsequently brighter. Could this be the moment he would discover life after death, and if so, what about the appeals procedure? He wanted his life back, the one before his death; there were business deals to put together, presentations to complete and money to be made.

The glow gradually became as blinding as the darkness had been, and panic momentarily danced with hysteria. He heard muffled sounds, which echoed low-pitched notes that reverberated around his head. While concentrating on each decibel in order to make out what it meant, another peculiar thing began to happen—the light was creating shapes, adding shades of grey, outlines of figures, hands and arms pointed towards him; a welcome gesture into a place void of targets. This must be heaven, he thought. He was now sure that he had been floating upwards to meet his maker.

Hello, Mr Barnard. How are you feeling? a deep, muffled voice said.

Wer arr ohh err… Adam struggled to speak, but extraordinarily he could hear the voice and himself quite clearly.

Mr Barnard, what are you trying to say? You are not making any sense. There was a sigh.

Blah wer in ber oh ha…

It was frustrating; he needed to get the point, he was trying to make, across to his maker. He had always been able to present and debate his views with impeccable confidence, but now he found a weakness in his knowledge; God had the upper hand.

Adam’s vision was slowly improving. He could see two angels beside God; they were dressed in white robes, exactly as anyone would have imagined. If this was the party welcoming him to heaven, then he wanted God to reconsider the situation. This would require all his business negotiation skills; the opposition would have an unfair advantage, obviously knowing more about the subject than he did, but he could appeal against the fact that he had been put in a position where quite clearly the conditions had not been explained to him before entering into the contract. Furthermore, no leaflets had been issued covering the small print or cooling-off period. He may even be entitled to compensation, unless God was a dictator.

Mr Barnard, we are here to take care of you, God said.

Oh dhank you, Dod. I men, dif I dan dall you Dod, dhat’s dif you don’t dine.

I am Dr Denton.

I’m dory, Dod is a doctor?

I think you mean God, which I am not. I am just a doctor.

Well, I dant to speak to Dod, I deed to deal with Dod, I don’t deed a doctor. Now, can you get me God? His speech suddenly became clearer with his outrage.

Calm down, Mr Barnard.

Calm down? Have you seen the targets I need to achieve, meetings to attend, mountains of paperwork to complete? And I think I’ve missed this week’s conference call. My God, Doctor, how will I ever catch up?

Listen, you’re getting confused, it’s just the side effects of the new drugs we are giving you.

Drugs? What’s going on? What have you done?

From somewhere behind Dr Denton another person in a white coat appeared, holding a white clipboard and writing something down.

He cleared his throat and then interrupted them with a voice that lacked any variation in tone.

Mr Barnard, it is our policy to be honest with all our clients, especially those with a gold insurance policy and a platinum credit card.

Am I paying for this experience? If this is how you treat people before they enter heaven, then I want to complain, and I am going to complain big time. Adam paused. By the way, do you have an appeals procedure?

The monotone voice sighed and then explained. Mr Barnard, you are certainly not dead. You are alive. Your operation by Dr Denton’s team was a complete success. The man smiled briefly, a corporate smile, and then continued. And may I add that our projected costs are in line with our projected price brackets detailed in our comprehensive computer-generated illustrations.

This is Mr Jenkins, one of our necessary hospital administrators, Dr Denton confirmed.

Now, now, Dr Denton, we administrators have saved the hospital thousands of pounds. I’m afraid without us–

We’d have more doctors, Dr Denton insisted.

I’m alive! Adam shouted enthusiastically.

Mr Jenkins gritted his teeth. Thank you, Dr Denton. He turned his head towards Adam. Yes, Mr Barnard, you’re alive, he said, and then murmured, well, physically speaking that is. Then, with corporate delight, his monotonous voice moved up a semitone. Chester Jenkins, here to make sure all services are funded and covered by your health insurance policy, for your peace of mind and the viability of our health service.

What?! Adam exclaimed.

Chester Jenkins had never liked the word ‘what’—it implied the information he had given lacked comprehension, so he ignored the expression and continued.

I am pleased to tell you, Mr Barnard, that your operation was covered by your company’s gold policy lifestyle protection, and as soon as we confirm your premiums are completely up to date and all fees have been paid, less the twenty-two per cent administration charge of course, you will be welcome to continue your life, happily knowing we are here to help.

He finished with his obligatory smile.

Operation? I was fine; I … I … I…

You collapsed, Dr Denton informed him.

Adam was in shock; fear and panic joined hysteria in a waltz and then a quickstep over his entire mind.

Mr Barnard, let me break this to you gently. Jenkins took a deep administrator’s breath. You had a heart attack, you almost died; we had to perform a quadruple bypass that only this hospital has successfully mastered within a fixed price bracket, and if…

Jenkins felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and turned to see Dr Denton looking at him.

What is it?

Chester, I think Mr Barnard has fallen asleep.

Oh, oh dear. Chester Jenkins thought for a moment. Well, I hope he knows the costs are non-refundable; it says so in the small print under terms and conditions.

I am sure that is the most important thing on his mind at the moment.

Just trying to be helpful. The hospital does have targets to consider, and we must make sure the client is aware that if he is not covered by comprehensive insurance, then it’s the responsibility of his family to cover the costs. Now, how would that make him feel? Jenkins declared, making his way to the door.

He stopped and turned towards Dr Denton, who was now checking his patient.

And by the way, can you please use the hospital administrator’s introducer’s statement the next time you introduce me to a client? It does form part of the compliance procedures, you know.

He opened the door and left.

Adam was having difficulty coming to terms with his newfound predicament. He needed time to accept heart attacks, quadruple bypasses and the fact that he was still alive.

When he woke suddenly in the middle of the night, he saw darkness, but a different type of darkness, one that he knew and understood, and this time he was not afraid; he was alive. Hysteria said goodbye, panic slowly got ready to leave, but fear desperately wanted to stay and resolve some unanswered questions.

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The morning sunlight broke through the gap between the hospital curtains, fell across the bed and continued up to Adam’s face, stroking his forehead and dancing over his eyelids. He woke to a world full of colour and beauty.

A soft, caring and instantly recognisable voice fluttered against his eardrums.

Mr Barnard, how are you this morning? Nurse Anne Ebbied enquired.

She placed the breakfast tray in front of her patient and offered a genuine smile that expressed hope.

Feeling well enough to see visitors?

Oh yes, I can’t wait to see my family.

That’s good, because your cousin Jim is here. I’ll just go and get him.

My cousin Jim? I don’t recall having a cousin called Jim.

Hello, Adam. How are you?

Jim Furman; you’re not my cousin.

No, but when I told them I’m your boss, they said only family could see you. So I said I’m your cousin and your boss. But never mind about that, I’m here now. I wanted to see how one of my best members of staff was getting on.

Well, I’m–

Good, good, I knew you’d be well, I’m so pleased. I said you wouldn’t let a little illness get you down. He’s never missed a day’s work, I said, and this slight blemish on your career, well, it can be sorted out, because I know you can’t wait to get back to work.

"When I said well, I didn’t mean exactly well–"

That’s the spirit! I knew keeping your job open was the right thing to do. Now, when can we expect you back?

Mr Barnard will not be going back to work till I say he’s fit enough, said a rather stern voice from behind Jim Furman.

Who the hell are you? Furman shouted, turning to face the voice’s owner.

I am Dr Denton, Chief Surgeon in charge of Mr Barnard. And you are?

Jim Furman, Sales Director for Colon, Rickets and Pukes Management Specialists. In charge of Mr Barnard’s job, his pay, his bonus reward, his promotion prospects and payment of his hospital insurance, I’ll have you know.

That is a huge responsibility, while I’m only concerned with keeping him alive.

Listen, Adam’s got responsibilities. We are on target to massively exceed this quarter’s profit margin, but you don’t move forward if you stand still.

Really? Why can’t you get someone else to do the job while Mr Barnard recovers? I mean, you seem to be doing very well.

You don’t understand anything about profit margins, do you? No wonder the medical profession is in such a mess.

Mr Barnard needs a holiday, the exasperated Dr Denton demanded.

Look, he can rest at work. He loves his job, and we have a massive problem to solve, don’t we, Adam?

What problem? Adam stared at him with a confused facial expression.

You know, the problem with Pluto.

What?

You remember, it’s Pluto raining in … Pluto … raining in.

It’s raining on the planet Pluto? Adam had no idea what Jim