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  THE TIME STONE

  JEFFREY ESTRELLA

  THE TIME STONE

  JEFFREY ESTRELLA

  New York

  Copyright © 2013 by Jeffrey Estrella

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author.

  Summary: A group of unlikely heroes from the opposite sides of the track embarks on the most ultimate human adventure surrounding an ancient alien transportation device. The four main characters travel through time in search of answers and a way home but end up making a difference in terms of helping to solve an age old mystery and avert a disaster in the future from occurring. They learn a lot about themselves in the process.

  ISBN 978-1-304-65016-0

  Text set in Times New Roman

  Designed by Jeffrey Estrella

  Printed by www.lulu.com

  *****

  Printed in the United States of America

  For my wife,

  Yoselin Genao-Estrella

  My sunshine and joy

  PART ONE

  AN INCIDENT OF FATE

  “Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.”

  - Helen Keller

  There is a dark emptiness throughout the universe that shines like an opaque jewel in the middle of space and time. A vibrant blue light appears in the distance. Relativity opens a new horizon in the vast oasis of oblivion. The blue light shimmers in the distance approaching like a void. The light expanded suddenly with a sudden jolt, spreading outward within infinite dimensions further occupying the entire former dark space and accompanied by an echoing sound that grew with the light in pitch and tone. The light and sound acted as one as harmonic vibrations surrounding the eternal void of the endless universe. Then there was silence.

  CHAPTER 1

  Time Period: 2012 A.D., Chronix Bay

  Darkness emanated over the small city of Chronix Bay. The dark skies were pitch black. The lights of the lamps in the street below burned with a vibrant luminosity that appeared to increase in intensity rivaling the darkness above the city, formerly a quaint community on the eastern seaboard outside of New York City that had become quite dilapidated over the years. The loud roar of thunder could be heard in the distance and a flash of lightning seared the night air immediately afterwards creating a visage of a dying municipality. In the Museum of Ancient History, silence was common after hours and the exhibits were like demigods watching for the slightest bit of trouble and ominously pervading it. The center of the large domed atrium was surrounded by corridors of historical exhibits such as the ancient Egyptian pyramids, the Viking ships, ancient Greco-Roman architecture, and other various halls and exhibits. Along the halls adorned with statuettes and scientific monuments of great minds and thinkers, historical figures like Sir Isaac Newton, HG Wells, Nikola Tesla, and Albert Einstein, at the center of it all was the piece de resistance, a small glass encasing with metal wires surrounding it and a strobe security light. In the casing there lay a small green five sided emerald crystal jewel on a pillar pedestal and metallic perch. It shone brightly with the lighting from the museum’s rafters above the casings. The interior of the gem shone outward revealing a five point emblem at its heart.

  A shadowy silhouette of a human form, enveloped throughout the backdrop of the atrium, was cast upon the back walls as a figure eagerly waiting for the right moment to strike. The figure’s shadow cast itself off a figure standing in a strong sense of empowerment over the numerous historical exhibits. The shadow surrounded the casing with the jewel and the floor of the museum immediately surrounding it. The museum alarms remained silent. The figure unleashed a canister of aerosol spray from his tunic belt pouch and sprayed the air before him. What was previously empty space was now riddled with a series of green, red, and orange lasers lighting the air in crossing patterns. There was a slow movement to the thin laser lines, causing the gaps between them to grow and shrink rhythmically. The patterns appeared to leave tiny gaps between them that were growing and shrinking into one another but expanding quickly thereafter leaving an opening only for a matter of seconds before retracting once again into one another. Timed just right, the figure imagined he could maneuver between them and avoid triggering the alarm mechanism. The lights faded slightly but remained visible. The figure went to work throughout the network maze of beams of energy. He then hopped around the casing. Accordingly, he dodged the series of glowing red, green and orange lasers. He leapt through the moving lasers and jumped around them and through them. He twirled and spun like a ballerina through the glowing lights. His maneuvers were graceful in the slightly lit air. He skillfully avoided hitting each laser beam as he maneuvered artfully. With a sudden leap, he climbed on top of the casing. He was dressed in a black outfit stealthily adaptive as the fabric blended into the darkness and appeared to shimmer as it changed structural mass in the darkness surrounding the dim lighting concealing him. He wore a bright red sash covering his waist tied into a clumsy knot at the end and a baggy and loose-fitting mask, a pair of beady dark eyes protruded from underneath. The figure carefully adjusted to the crouching position as he set himself down on top of the glass casing. He carefully removed a small metallic object from his tunic pouch. He carefully extended the object unfolding it piece by piece until he held a full size pair of metallic glass cutters. He extended the cutters onto the glass he stood on. He moved his fingers carefully turning the blades at precise pre-calculated measurements to form a circle and then a square within the circle. He moved in a skillful artistic way using the cutters as natural extensions of his hands. He had previously studied the design of the casing and its alarm system so he knew exactly where and how to cut the glass. After achieving his objective, he then used the blades as grabbers slowly lifting the cut glass piece. He then reached into the casing. Within seconds, a loud security alarm disrupts the silence of the museum as every corner is filled with the noise through the amplification system and bright lights surround the casing. The figure looked up with an unsuspecting glare into the bright lights.

  Cameras turned on their axels to monitor the incident. Strobe lights flash in the air, accompanying the loud siren and the hot laser beams continue to swirl around. A young man in a security guard uniform runs over with a pistol in one hand and a radio in the other. He nervously looks around, perspiring heavily, as a strobe spins flashing a bright red light and a hot white light imaging within the casing and surrounding exhibits. He saw a flashing yellow whirl of light hovering in midair. He wiped his brow and looked around, seeing a shadow of a man leap off of the casing surrounded by the horrific flash of yellow light that instantly vanished within seconds. The young guard pointed his gun and yelled nervously, “Freeze!” He then looked at the yellow light swirling in mid-air high above the atrium right before it vanished, and panicked at the otherworldly sight mixed in with the strobes and lasers permeating the air before him. He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger of his gun firing a loud shot into the air high above him.

  Suddenly, the lights stopped flashing and siren stopped. In the silence, the form of the young security guard lay on the floor mortally wounded, blood gushing from his chest. His dark eyes reared up into the dome-shaped atrium as the light faded from his eyes and his heart slowed, confused over what just happened. His eyes closed as the life force drained from his body. The figure above the casing and the jewel that rested within it were long gone as if having vanished into thin air. The warm air surrounding the casing remained the only evidence of the figure’s presence as it was quickly consumed by the intensity of the
laser beams system continuing to twirl around in the sudden silence and darkness amidst the figure statues of the past in the museum. The darkness outside was still as the pale moonlight gleamed down over the sudden crime scene.

  CHAPTER 2

  Soon thereafter, the night skies were lit up around the vicinity of the museum by the flashing lights of police cruisers with sirens wailing loudly. Uniformed officers walked back and forth in a hurry. One passed along the front of the museum entrance holding a plastic evidence bag. The patches on their shoulders read Chronix Bay Police Department. They set up roadblocks from the main road and rolled out yellow crime scene tape to cover the perimeter. Several news vans and people stood about a dozen feet away. Several men in suits also walked along the grassy pathways outside of the museum heading towards the front entrance.

  A blue Lincoln Town Car pulled up with U.S. government plates, its headlights shining into the scene like a beacon of hope. “Wait up” said one of the suited men about to enter the museum as he ran back towards the Town Car. Lieutenant Brock Walton ran up to the car and stopped near the front passenger side door. He waited eagerly for the door to open and pulled it open as it started to move. “It’s about time” said the fair-haired man in his late thirties.

  “I’ve been fighting off the press for an hour. We got a serious situation inside,” said Lieutenant Walton.

  “I know. That’s why I’m here” said the man in the car rising out of the passenger seat and removing his sunglasses he coolly wore even in the nighttime. “The Bureau wants a complete report on everything that has been going on. If this case involves what we think it does, it’s our baby ‘til the end.” He smirked.

  "I still don't understand why the Bureau wants action on this. It's a regular theft."

  "There are some occurrences surrounding this ‘regular theft’ that activate the unusual and bizarre. That's what my division is used to investigating." The FBI agent spoke eloquently and sincerely as he touched his ears and wrinkled his nose, a small patch of brown hair furrowed behind his ears slightly longer than that of the average man. His face was pale and somber and he had a hint of eagerness in his speaking tone.

  Lieutenant Walton led the man through the walkway and inside the museum, “I know we’re friends but this cloak and dagger stuff is beyond anything I’ve known in my professional career.”

  “All information is on a need to know basis only,” said the man as he flashed his FBI badge and identification card to the uniformed officer standing guard outside the entrance. The man entered the museum, following his local police colleague, and saw the many colorful exhibits of past empires fallen and heroic figures dashingly displayed. The federal agent’s jaw almost dropped in awe as he remembered his boyhood fantasies of wanting to be like the gothic knights of the old code in medieval Europe but then he snapped out of it when he remembered why he was really there. He noticed a small dab of moisture being emitted from a small pipe nearby one of the exhibits near a glass casing, with a cleverly-cut hole in it, where a famous artifact once rested but was now empty and surrounded by yellow police crime scene tape.

  The agent was looking around mesmerized and did not notice that his old friend, the lieutenant, was still talking. “I tell you it doesn’t make sense. Locals claim they heard some kind of an implosion or explosion but there is no evidence of any debris. Whatever it was, damn thing turned off the alarm system.”

  “Interesting” said the agent quietly looking around.

  “Adam, please come over here.” Said Lieutenant Walton as he pointed to a black body bag on the floor and grimaced.

  Adam walked over and examined the scene. "What is it Brock?"

  “The body is still fresh, rigor hasn't set in. We responded as quickly as we could after the alarm went on and off. The medical examiner says he is going to need to take it right away but I wanted to wait for you to arrive.”

  “Open it” said Adam.

  Lieutenant Walton sighed shaking his head and bent down on one knee. He unzipped the bag revealing the dead security guard, his face pale and his eyes shut. “Coroner examined him just before you came. The cause of death was a bullet from his own service weapon. Poor S.O.B. must have panicked in the heat of the moment. It was a break in. Someone stole the pride of the museum’s collection, the fabled ‘Eye of the Gods,’ exceedingly rare emerald quartz. It’s supposed to be one of a kind. Its value was last appraised and insured by Lloyd’s of London at over sixty billion dollars. That is one pricey paperweight.” Lieutenant Walton laughed at his own joke.

  Adam noticed a slight green glow behind the guard's ear that slowly faded into an electric faze. It went unnoticed to the many others who observed the body. “This wasn’t about money,” replied Adam without even a smirk as he stared into the cold lifeless face of the former night security guard at the Museum of Ancient History. “Wrap up the case files and the body along with all security footage.” Adam spoke adamantly gesturing to the cameras on the wall with his finger. “Our medical team and forensics group will take it from here.”

  “But Adam, what the hell is going on here?” Lieutenant Walton rose to his feet demanding answers.

  “Sorry old friend” said Adam, “but this is federal jurisdiction now in the interests of national security.” Adam’s eyes burned with the electricity of his heart and soul as he looked at the dumbfounded Lieutenant and put back on his pair of sunglasses. Adam smirked as he turned and walked towards the door opening it with one hand and reaching into his breast pocket with this other hand for his cell phone.

  "What the hell does this have to do with national security?" yelled Lieutenant Walton at his old friend. Adam continued walking out the door as the cell phone he held emitted a long antennae automatically. "What the hell?" asked Lieutenant Walton rhetorically as he shook his head furiously with the sound of footsteps far ahead of him and at the sight of his oldest friend and army buddy walking away ignorantly.

  CHAPTER 3

  The darkness of a corporate boardroom after hours was a plain sight for Melody Blinkett, a young twenty-two year old well-dressed woman newly hired as a Paralegal for Temporo Inc.’s General Counsel’s office. Melody remembered when she interned for the company while in school and it seemed different then, a lot more positive energy and fun exercises. Now there was a colder and darker reality to the place she had grown accustomed to. She figured she was early so didn’t bother to turn the lights on. She just took a seat at the head of the long table and opened her portfolio and shuffled some papers with corporate stationery and handwritten notes in the margin. She studied them arduously batting her long dark curls that kept getting in the way. Then suddenly the doors swung open and the ceiling began to glow with bright red, purple, and orange neon lights, a slight hum surrounded the visages of color above, and a display screen appeared rising up from under a secret compartment beneath the table. A form appeared on the screen as it lit up, a faceless shadow of a man who appeared to have waves of dark curls surrounding his face like feathers attached to his flesh but cloaked in total darkness and a pair of bright white eyes visible on the darkness of his form. Several men and women in dark black suits entered. Melody rose to her feet and nodded her head as she nervously gathered her papers. A voice echoed across the room as if coming from no one person in particular, causing everyone to take their seats silently. “This emergency secret meeting of the 12-VM Secret Command Council is called to order.” The voice echoed before them, dark, crinkly, and mysterious. Melody shook in fright as she sat in the back end of the conference room behind her boss, Luther Von Strauss, Esq., General Counsel of Temporo, Inc. A symbol rested on the table and on each cover of the leather portfolios carried by each person. The symbol of the Temporo, Inc., a double curved upside down arches as the symbol of the Egyptian serpent god Apophis.

  “Let us begin” said one man at the head of the table, a cocky middle-aged man with a sharp tongue, quick wit, and schoolboy temperament. “It is important that we act quick and not let our other facti
ons find out about what happened tonight. We do not want to cause problems for our various overseas operations.”

  “True,” spoke Ogelsby Bradshaw who was older and shorter standing next to his younger and taller counterpart. Everyone in the room recognized Ogelsby Bradshaw, founder and former Chief Executive Officer of Temporo, Inc. Mr. Bradshaw was the wisest man in the company who has earned the respect of everyone in the company from the senior vice presidents down to the janitorial staff for his kind demeanor and courteous smile. But no one knew the true nature of his private life. “I put my complete faith in this young man, Mr. Broad Staffnight, our new CEO, who will take my place and be a shining example to our company’s continued success.” The older man then took his seat.

  “Thank you, Mr. Bradshaw! I am afraid I could only succeed you as no one could fill the shoes you are leaving behind” said Broad rising to his feet in sincerity. “Now, the first thing, down to business with this museum incident, we know the death was no accident and wasn’t supposed to occur but it did occur.”

  “We know that guard was not supposed to be there, Sir” said a young blonde woman sitting next to Broad’s seat. “But we saw from a hidden video surveillance tape of the scene that he was out smoking a marijuana cigarette, probably arrived early and waiting for his shift to start, when he heard a noise and ran in to check it out and met his death.”

  “Thank you, Liz” replied Broad. “My assistant Elizabeth Peters has been working with me on this cover up. We hired ‘the Culto’, a legendary band of misfit ninja warriors, and we found the artifact. But now, a simple theft by our Contractor turns into a homicide investigation by the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Strange Occurrences Project. Our contacts within the Chronix Bay Police Department and FBI tell me this was no accidental death as the police initially thought. It was true that the guard was shot with his own weapon but because someone or something turned it on him at the moment of impact firing. Because of this strange method of killing, the Bureau is giving it high priority and will stop at nothing to reveal the truth. We can’t have this. If it were to be discovered that we really sent the Contractor and what we sent him there for, then we would jeopardize everything. We need patsies.”