Zirconia

By A. Foster

The small mining town of Port Nolloth, South Africa was the first to feel the 7.1 earthquake, and the tremors that followed. The time was just 3:33 am. The aftershock shook the citizens, but nothing more serious than a gentle wobble, back and forth. That event was shortly followed thereafter by one of several resulting tsunamis. Nolloth would be gone, but she would not be alone in her fate.
In the deep waters of the great Atlantic Ocean, the storm begins. It rips the sea bed wide open, and allows the monster Kraken to escape, to rise. In its wake, the water moves outward... in all directions, overwhelming everything in its path. Port Nolloth was only the first small town to be destroyed on the coast. The tsunami hit just before dawn. It moved with great speed, taking out every dock, pier, boat, shop, business, and house along the bay. Without slowing, it then located and found a new route. The mighty mythical beast moved up the Orange River at full force, using it like a superhighway to the interior. Men, women, and children were washed away like ants in a hard rain. Screams of terror were heard in the night, and then silenced, drowned out by the ferocity of the attack. The end of the world was just beginning, but few knew that was the truth.

The earth cracks open, and the floods come, but hope still floats!
Never turn your back on the sea!
Listen to Lilith (the A.I.), she will help you to be ready for all your tomorrows...
Your own decisions, can and do change the fate of others!

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Foster
• Release date: Dec 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005121846

A. Foster

Hello friends,Thank you for taking a moment to check out my site. I hope one of my stories catches your attention. Love to hear from you. Please like me, follow me and above all, tell someone else. I would be so grateful.I love to write, all kinds of stories. I am interested in real pirates from long ago, spaceships of tomorrow and all the time travel I can get. When I am not writing, I am thinking about new stories to tell and try out. Love to attend campfires and volunteer in classrooms often. A great place to entertain and experiment on themes.Hope to be invited to your campfire one day...Have fun and keep reading, dreaming, writing and hugging those you love most.

Book preview

Zirconia

A Man Made Miracle

written by A. Foster

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places, and incidents

are the products of the author's imagination only.

All rights are reserved.

Copyright A. Foster,

Ann Foster, Annette Foster

c/o BooksbyAFoster.com.

"Again, this is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places, and incidents

are the products of the author's imagination

or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual events,

locales, or persons, living, dead,

mistaken for dead,

or undead, is entirely

coincidental."

Thank you

.

Among the weak there are hidden heroes,

that move in the moment,

presented with possibilities, never possible before...

in normal time frames.

A short note to say

Thank you for supporting a true dreamer.

God Bless!

This book, this story, this piece... of my work,

is dedicated to the forgotten,

by denial, by choice, and/or by intent.

They are the ones that will face the end

without knowing,

the full grace of God.

Pray for their souls,

pray for their forever.

In God We Trust

Amen.

Table of Contents

1. Bar Room Bargains

2. A Yacht can be Its Own Country?

3. The Lights Go Out All Over

4. The Full Moon

5. Walk the Plank

6. Waves, Sharks, and Sea Monsters

7. Ice in Your Drink, As the World Turns

8. An Island in the Storm

9. Safe Harbor

10. A Whale of a Tale, about the Tail of a Whale

11. Termites Don't Swim

12. The Gardens of Forever

13) You can Run from Yourself, But You can not Hide

14) From Here to There

15) No, It is Not Noah's Ark

16) The trick, the trade, and Siren Island

17) A Desert Full of Water

18) A One Way Trip to Heaven, and a Turn Around to Hell

19) Flight of a Seagull, not a Phoenix

20) Rivers In Time

21) The Shrimp, A Source of Food

22) A Toy in the Bathtub

23) All for me and none for thee!

24) The Voyage Home

Glossary of Information, Notes and Definitions

Cover Artist Information

New Books Available Now!

Poetry National and International

God Bless

1) Bar Room Bargains

Were you able to secure the pickup boat? The tall man in the black shirt and black pants asked the shorter man in the dim light of the bar. His skin was black as coal too, making it hard to see his face in the dark room. If it were not for the candle, brightly shining in the center of the table... he would be a complete shadow. His voice, however, was filled with menace, tangible if unseen directly by the eyes, felt with the heart. The question was laced with a true, and deadly threat at the edges. There was also just as much a sense of fear... or at least anxiety by both. Neither man wanted to be caught and detained by the local law keepers. That usually led to disappearances for those without money to pay. The victims were found upriver, deep in the mud... slaves to others, not too unlike themselves. The only actual difference was the guns they held to control the workers, or rather prisoners.

The place, the business establishment was Zolars. That was the owner's actual name, or so it was said. Yet, it might have been the guy before him, his name. It was hard to say. Things changed hands around here frequently. It was a seedy place off the main way. That did not mean it was not well known, it was just not a tourist spot. Well, honestly in the Orange, or rather Port Nolloth there were few inviting places for such everyday, peaceful entertainments. This was a much more serious point on the map.

Port Nolloth was tough all over, but more so on the northern side, than on the southern bank. If a stranger found their way this far over from the seaport, they would likely not find their way back. Port Nolloth was the opening between the great river's mouth and the... Atlantic Ocean.

So most of the eyes in the room were familiar in one way or another. That was a bad thing too. Yet, there were no safe places anywhere really for this kind of meeting and or transaction. That is why they were here... within these walls. Generally, here..., shady deals were not uncommon but overlooked on purpose. That is why there was an undertow of silence. Perhaps even a bit of honor among thieves? No, more likely all those watching... were simply hoping to be part of the plan in some way. Best to pay attention to the big players of the moment... as they engaged in recreation together, and thereby find work. It was far more sensible than causing trouble when there were otherwise no jobs to be found. That last part was not exactly true. There was always employment available for diggers in the dirt, swimmers in the river, or divers in the sea. The pay was only half the question the cost of life or limb, the other. Safe and employed were not the same at all. That did not mean that night work, or thug work, or out-and-out thievery was better, only perhaps more lucrative for the investment.

The table where the men sat was one of only a handful. It was a rickety kind of homemade piece of furniture. The placement was just off to the side of the middle of the room. It was a squalid, unclean place. As for the establishment itself, it was not much above a hole in the wall, with a long plank between two barrels for the main bar. There were customers here from the port, that would sell their own mother, and buy their own brother's daughter... for personal reasons. Ugly people came here. There were also workers from the big mining companies. Not the high-end types... laugh out loud, no. The low paid individuals that ran boss over the Sics... (The sick ones or walking dead in the dirt mines... There were more of those inland than the rest). They were the men, and sometimes women, that lived and died in the dirt, and went unnoticed by the community, in order to keep the status quo.

The big man was nervous, or more like anxious... to get on with things. In his mind, there were still too many people watching, and listening here, but outside in the streets would not be much better. There were always people paying attention, you just had to respect that and make allowances. The man continued in a roundabout manner to speak of their intentions, without giving too much away. The fishing trip is on, so you better do your part. His dry, husky voice was filled with pressure, easily felt even in his desperate attempt to veil it in his tone.

The shorter man had dark skin too, but it was white underneath. The tan on his face and hands spoke of hours under the sun. The relentless rays taking from his life, all semblance of youth, and replacing it with wrinkles and hard lines. Some of the rigid marks however were also put there by even harder actions... taken by his own hand, in his own past. Captain Walker was not an easy target. In fact, he liked a good personal challenge now and then, so making a mistake in his direction... could be costly. At least so far, there had been no winners.

Captain Walker was wearing a black and gold captain's hat, denoting his status. It was worn and faded, but it fit well. His clothes reflected much of the same; plain uniform style pants and a linen shirt jacket. Regardless, he carried an air of surety about himself. There were only a few... maybe... that would dare bother him, as to do so would lead to a whole crew taking vengeance. This had happened before. The Landers, which were the people that worked the land along the Orange River or in it, and the Sea Monkeys, those that made their living primarily from the Atlantic coastline area, had come to respect each other over such encounters. They were rarely repeated now. It was generally costly and no one paid if common people got hurt. So it was also, at least generally looked down upon. There were far more bad tidings already, not to flirt with the makers directly. So, most, if not quite all never wanted to see it happen again. Based on that fact alone, the Captain was given a somewhat wide birth.

Yes. My craft will take you out to the open waters. Then the others will meet us. They will take you and your men where you want to go. The price is as we discussed. His voice answered low, and held a cold essence, a spirit of darkness... somehow that said, death was still among the possibilities. Whose demise was the only question? Payment?

The big man reached into his pocket. He retrieved a small, black velvet bag. Slowly he moved it across the table toward the Captain. Then he stopped. I will cut your heart out and eat it personally if you are lying... do you understand me, boatman? The contents of the small container were worth a king's ransom. The cost to acquire: already that of four lives in its acquisition. That alone made it priceless. That is if life had any value. Here, it had nearly none at all. Most of the time it was found less than worthless.

Yes. Was his answer. Then the Captain took the bag from the man's hand like an adult takes a piece of candy from a child. The adolescent in this case was not happy but accommodating. Promises what they were, he had just bought his escape. That is for himself, his brothers and a handful of his brother's recruited men. There were seven in all on his list so far. That was a good number. He wished it was just him and his brothers, but they could never do the job without help. It really was not even his plan, but his younger brother's, Bota. There were ways of getting rid of the extra baggage later. That could happen. Yet for now, all was on target.

The Captain held the bag but did not open it. He could feel the hard rocks inside the soft material. He knew what they would look like. They were a handful of stars. Stars that would shine brightly in the night and in the day. Diamonds. They were black diamonds. Stolen from others, that had stolen them from others. That was the way of things. Somehow that gave David Walker, Captain of the Cindy Lu a quiet, feeling. He was not the real thief. He did not kill people or have people killed. He simply moved merchandise, and men... or whatever qualified for real value anyway. That always depended on who the buyer and the seller were at the end of the day. In this case, the man beside him, whom he knew only as Hanks... was a great source of income. They had a few dealings before and his merchandise had proven to be first rate.

Regardless, there had been no pressure really on the Captain's side. Walker just had to be at the meeting point, pick up the cargo and float it over to the next boat. Easy money all the way around in his mind. It was not his first fishing trip, yet... this might be his last. This was Walker's largest payoff, or it would be. Half now, and half, when they met up with the runners. Those were the pirates that had agreed to shuffle the load... That consisted of Hanks and his people, from one place to another. They were ugly men. They were not the romantic pirates of any history book or drama. No. They were up-to-date, well-armed thugs, with no morals at all.

Walker considered. Taking the bag, meant accepting this man, and his cargo. He thought a moment about the job... more in detail. He had to make sure he always had things well in hand. To the Captain; if they were good men or bad, was of no concern. Only that the job was done, exactly as it should be and in a timely manner. In this case, in just a few hours... from now, he would be retired. It was a dream.

Yet, for the moment... Walker had a reputation to keep. He worked both sides of the line, but not at the same time. The underground knew he was buyable. The law just wanted their cut, at least so far. If anything went wrong this time, Walker would fall back on their prior gentlemen's agreement. His luck had always been good. It would work.

The Captain picked up the bag with purposeful intent. He then causally put the sack in the breast pocket of his own shirt. He tapped it slightly. Inside he wanted to dance. His dream was one step closer to reality.

Okay. I will be there. Walker got up from the chair. He did not shake the other man's hand. He simply looked him straight in the eye. No fear! I will be there. You make sure you are there on time. Then he tossed a coin he had retrieved from his other pocket while talking, onto the table. Drinks are on me. Then he turned and left the bar. Two men thought to follow him right off, but Walker's reputation preceded him in this area. Walker might be alone for the moment. But he always had at least one, two, or even three additional men in tow. They were near. They were always close by. The captain was not a stupid man.

Outside Walker met up with a crewman, as expected and they talked a moment. They made hand gestures as well. The two used some kind of odd communication between them that could be seen, but not understood by prying eyes. All the while, their voices were mingled low, so low no one could have clearly heard a word even if they tried. Then they both left... they headed back toward the port. The others that had watched on the sidelines, overtly... did not follow.

Inside Zolars... the bar, Hanks felt relieved. This part, his part of the plan was going fine. He would get back to his family now. The hour was later than he liked, and time was already ticking by... faster than he expected. He would go and meet up with his younger brother, and they would put together the rest of the preparations. Hanks and his two brothers together had made a pact. They were getting out of the mines. They were getting out of the business. They were going all the way. They were leaving Africa. The money they would have once they were done, would be more than enough to go anywhere, do anything and be... someone new, someone other than themselves. How was this going to happen? Bota had devised a way to knock off one of the S.B.E. couriers. The entire plan was going to take some doing, but they had a chance. A good chance that would allow them a great payoff.

That part... Bota's part was also already in motion as well. Bota was the master mine, for his side. Hanks was the getaway man, and he had handled everything with perfect finesse if asked. It pleased him to consider how easy it all had been to date. They just needed a bit more luck and they would be home free. Well, at least free of this place, this town, this hub of buzzing bees...

The S.B.E.; the Savings Exchange Company or actually the Smith Brothers Exchange were in charge, or Hanks and his minions thought as much. They liked to reference the word savings instead of Smith in the name often... as part of an all-around plan to give the feel they were different. At least not the exact same as all the rest. The truth, was the monopolies ruled and meant to keep it that way. Anyone that thought otherwise was simply stupid, or beyond lost. However, the S.B.E. was not truly any different. They were just as greedy and as creative in their ways to cheat and steal as all the other companies, owned by persons, corporations, or the government. At least for most of the outgoing shipments for the smaller private, or rather individual mines, it was true. They were considered black-market with a white-market name. They ran only a faint few... a nearly unpreventable percent of the whole amount, with concessions by the bigger companies indirectly, if not directly. Their services helped to keep the otherwise unmanageable, and openly unruly population in line. The lower citizens were just barely able to eat and get by but worked hard daily in the struggle to become rich.

The S.B.E. business dealings were still enough to be worth millions in the market. That is if their goods ever made it that far. The bigger companies kept a sharp eye on anyone holding too many of the cards. They made short work of the true competition. S.B.E. was somewhere in the middle of the page. They moved the market forward, and bothered with the one-man shops, while not interfering in any way in the true trade of the black diamonds. To do that would have put them right out of business. suffice to say, they made money and were allowed to make money. Why? To keep the smaller riffraff busy and compliant. But beyond that point, life could change at any given moment.

The S.B.E. was not used by all the people of the area, only the poor people that still ran their own small mines, as they could. They had no resources to speak of, but they worked regardless, to feed their families. The exchange took their diamonds and gave them what they thought they were worth. The close-ended monopoly they coveted for their small area of the line, was iron tight. It was the grip of a few men, mercilessly holding a large population in squalor, using them as beasts, while cheating them daily of their gains.

Slavery is the holding of one soul,

by another soul captive,

by way of direct or indirect pressure,

gaining the boss man, the holder of authority, and control

the treasure they desire, above all human dignity.

The law? You might want to know how they set on the matter... ? Well, they went right along. Paydays and payouts were the lay of the land. The only careful concern was not rocking the boat too hard. To do so would draw unwanted notice to their business dealings, and therefore was avoided. The good men, if any were left... that stood up were beaten down. The order of the day was going along or. Or what? Be whisked away to the inland-held territories. There to be put to work for the others. While that happened evil boss style workers would blackmail families. They would be bled for ransom. If no one would pay or could pay, then more bad things would come to pass. There were always ways to send loud, unwanted, non-useful people, swimming in deep waters.

Hanks and his two brothers had grown up in this hard place. They had worked within the lines to live better than some. It was not good enough. Bota talked forever about changing their stars. He never let up, since he was a kid. Once he got the job at S.B.E., Hanks started to take Bota a bit more seriously. For a younger brother, he had some words of wisdom, maybe?

Hanks was counting on the exchange to be the answer. The problem was long overdue to be solved. Bota had been the final digit to hold the place marker on the page. How? Because Bota was an armed guard for the company. He had been chosen and trusted. That was their mistake. The high-ups that is. Bota was a planner and he knew how to get things done. Hanks had come to respect that in him. Bota had convinced his older brother of the advantages and gains, over the risks. Together they were ready. They were going to steal the company blind of at least one of their transfer shipments. There was a boat that moved small loads out to the 25-mile marker every two weeks. It was happening today... right now. It was always done in the small hours of the early mornings... and always before the sky fills with the sun.

Dirty deals done in the dark,

deserve their outcomes,

whatever they may be.

One shipment alone would be worth millions, nearly anywhere else in the world. They just had to get the stones and get out. Bota had a plan and it was going down. Hanks had finally agreed. They were moving... forward.

The delusion that the robbery would go without repercussion was probably all wrong of course. But considering the S.B.E. were handlers of single, individuals rather than the giants that controlled nearly the whole country, Hanks figured they were lower on the pole. The local police would be the only obstacle, not the normal mercenaries that the powerful companies employed.

The men, the hard men that had been gathered and used... for his project, for Bota's plan, were not the everyday types. They were the most fierce fighters the two brothers could find. The men, and their followers... were tired of the mines, and this was their chance. Hanks had committed everything he had in the way of resources, and failure was not an option.

Hanks counted off . There was Bota, Raka, and himself for sure. Raka is the youngest of the three. There was Bota's friend he called Mokora among the other guards. He was included too. Without him, Bota could not pull anything off. That made four. The remaining three, Bota had found thru connections. They would all be waiting in assigned areas, or on the docks... at the right hour. At least that was the plan.

Trusting the wrong person, or just asking the wrong question, could have blown the whole job apart. So far it had not. Hanks had been careful. They would succeed. There was no other option. He was not going upriver. He was not going to swim with the sharks either. He was going to be a big man. He was going to be a very big man... somewhere other than here.

Walker had left. That was the first step in the right direction so far since he got to Zolars. The problem had been a scheduling issue. Bota's work detail changed unexpectedly this last week. So they had to move their own plans up in the timetable, rather recklessly. Hanks did not like that. It made him want to check and recheck everything two or three times, but it was an all-in or an all-out choice. There were no middle roads to take.

After Bota had left their home and went to the S.B.E., as expected... Hanks had put his side of the plan into motion as they agreed. Now, the fact of the moment was that Bota was already at work, Hanks had run out of options other than Walker. He was relieved the man had agreed. The new timetable was rough, but fate had been in their favor after all. The tide would take them right out according to Walker. So, there was no going back. Hanks felt a bit more confident than before. They had an escape. At least as far as the twenty-five-mile mark. That is where the big guys did their mining... out on the open sea. They would be busy with their own excavations, and probably not care so much about what happens closer in, on land. The culture here was more of a leave it alone and mind your own business unless the problem was yours and landed on your doorstep. Most of the larger mining outfits... really were too busy making fortunes to care. That was all of them except the Exchange. They had their own men. They would care. They were still an obstacle of course... but not perhaps as big a monster to attack and win against as the rest? Hanks put all his hopes on Bota and his information. His brother better not just be right, he better be very right, or they would all be very dead.

Hanks waited a bit for Walker to get ahead of him. He did not want to leave exactly at the same time as the other man. He wanted to give him a bit of space. The illusion of non-connection in the larger scope must be maintained. Meeting Walker was common for dealings. But, not for the current size of this plan. Most would just assume, business as usual. That was the best camouflage. Nothing to see here, out of the ordinary." Yet, this project would be a thousand, or perhaps tens of thousands or even millions more valuable in scale. That was the change. Finally, Hanks finished his drink that had been delivered to the table earlier. He swigged it down quickly. The man scanned the room. There was no one staring or at least openly so. He stood up.

Hanks was nearly as tall as the ceiling, which was unusually low or appeared to be. He turned toward the door. He gathered his courage and moved out. The thief had done business with Walker many times. The point is this was not really unusual. It was just more important to Hanks than any other time in the past. It was his last gamble. Failure was not an option. He would not even let himself dwell on the possibility.

A few heartbeats later and the man was standing outside the establishment, beneath bright stars. The weather was hot, muggy, sticky, and nearly unbearable. All of that was normal for this time of year. It was rarely different in fact. Hanks entertained how it would feel to live in Australia maybe? Yeah, they