Ancestors Descendants

By Sue Clark

Were the piles of powder found on the streets of York natural phenomena, a hoax or a bizarre practical joke?
Matt is recruited by a secret government organisation to help find the answers.
With York albinos disappearing, blood being taken and memories being erased Matt and the team’s investigations take them to a bizarre finale where the only losers are the government.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781788788687

Sue Clark

Sue Clark was born in London, but now lives permanently in York. She has a husband, two children and one grandchild. She has written stories all her life, but since retiring she has finished her debut novel. When she is not writing she can be found either travelling abroad, reading, or in her garden.

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About the Author

Sue Clark was born in London, but now lives permanently in York. She has a husband, two children and one grandchild. She has written stories all her life, but since retiring she has finished her debut novel. When she is not writing she can be found either travelling abroad, reading, or in her garden.

Dedication

To my family and friends, without their support this book would not have been written.

Copyright Information ©

Sue Clark 2022

The right of Sue Clark to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 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.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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

ISBN 9781788788670 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781788788687 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

Thanks to my family and a local newspaper, without whose article my imagination would have not inspired me to write this book.

Prologue

Matt pushed the cafeteria plunger, and then carried it out to the balcony where there were two white metal chairs and a matching table. He sat down, poured the coffee into a large mug, put his feet onto the empty chair and looked out across the river outside of his three bed roomed York penthouse, sat on the top floor of a converted riverside building. He had bought and completely furnished it three years ago, with the profits of two assignments. Freelance investigating unusual cases paid very well.

It was a Friday evening and being summer, it was warm and still light at 2100 hours.

Matt ran his fingers through his straight blonde hair. He was a handsome man, 6’4" in height, very muscular in build, with a strong chiselled look to his face, deep blue eyes and a tanned complexion. He could easily have been mistaken for a man much younger than his 45 years age.

The door buzzer sounded and he frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone to invade his peace. He got up and walked from the balcony, across the apartment to the picture com and pressed a button. He saw a face that he had not seen for a couple of years so he pressed another button and told the person to come up to the top floor.

He didn’t know it then, but Matt was to become involved in not only a very unusual case but one with an extraordinary unearthly outcome.

Chapter 1

Matt opened the door and let the man in, long time no see, Steve.

The man shook his outstretched hand and replied, Good to see you again, Matt.

Matt was a good six inches taller than Steve, but like Matt, Steve was very muscular in build. He had short, very dark curly hair, a handsome 45-year-old man with dark eyes and olive coloured skin from his Italian parentage.

Matt said, Do you want coffee?

Yes, the normal way.

They had worked on cases in the past and Matt knew Steve—like him—liked his coffee strong and black.

Matt got another mug from a kitchen cupboard, and then Steve followed Matt out to the balcony where they both sat down. Steve poured himself a coffee and said, Nice place.

Yep, it’s nice and quiet here, and no one bothers me. This isn’t just a social visit, is it?

Steve handed Matt a large brown envelope that he had been carrying, have a read.

Matt took out a newspaper cutting from The York evening Press, dated 12th November, 2007. He read it, and looked at Steve, OK—what does this have to do with me?

Small white mounds of powder have been turning up on the pavements of York. The first appearance was in November 1998, then again in November 2003 and 2004.They were swept away and thought of as a hoax. There were none in 2005 or 2006, but it happened again in November 2007. This time 12 piles of powder were swept into plastic sandwich bags by a council worker whose brother-in-law is CSI. He gave them to this person as the council worker and the brother-in-law were curious to know what they were. It had also been reported in the Yorkshire evening press, highlighting the incidents to the general public.

Matt leaned back on his chair, What do you want me for and what was the analysis?

My employers are aware of your reputation and have asked me to get you on board. As to the analysis, I can’t tell you that here, you will have to come and see for yourself.

OK, but who will I be working for? and with a smile he said, and what is the pay like?

Steve grinned, £ 5,000 per week, plus all expenses paid and our boss is the British Government. That is all I can tell you at the moment.

OK I’ve got a spare room, stop here and we can talk in the morning. Do you have any luggage?

Steve smiled: I’ll get it from the car.

Steve went downstairs to a black car, got his holdall and told the driver to book into the agreed hotel, and that he would phone with a pick up time.

They spent the rest of the evening sat on very comfortable black leather sofas, reminiscing and drinking lager, eventually going to bed at around midnight.

5 miles below the surface of the planet, was a very white sterile looking laboratory with no doors or windows. The laboratory had a wide island worktop, down the middle of the room with about six machines of varying sizes and two large view screens. There were also what looked like two transmission electron microscopes that could examine cell structure and shape. In the corner was a round device imprinted on the floor which was a light pad to move people from one area to another. There were two people working in the laboratory. One looked up from her microscope and shivered. She was aged around 50 with shoulder length, very pale blonde hair and very light blue eyes. She was five feet in height and stocky build. She turned to her colleague, Esta, do you think we will need to collect more specimens this year?

Esta looked at her friend. She herself was in her 40s with short curly white hair, slim built, and a height of 5’8 with pink eyes. We might Lucia, as we may not have enough specimens for our needs. Initially, I thought we will have to use mutation serum but hopefully the mutation will pass on to future generations." Lucia nodded, time was running out for them and she thought that she was glad they were nearing the end. This place was not pleasant. It was too cold and inhospitable.

Chapter 2

Steve was glad that he had carried a packed holdall in the car. He showered and donned his usual dark jeans and added a pale blue shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, not tucked in as he hated to feel restricted in movement. His trainers were designer and were well worn. He looked around the bedroom. No expense had been spared. Cream walls throughout the flat, with solid oak furnishing and a power shower in his suite that sand blasted you awake.

He opened the bedroom door to the smell of bacon. He remembered that on a Saturday morning when he was not working, Matt always had bacon rolls for breakfast and had toast for breakfast for the rest of the week. Steve looked around. The furnishings looked good in the daylight. A small solid oak dining table and four chairs,