by CW Johnson
~~~
“This is the BBD World News Tonight. I am Hugh Brolley reporting from our studios in London, England.
We are honored to be the very first news broadcast to appear on the air following the harrowing near miss. At the top of the news of course, the great planet killer Dante657…. What happened? How could we have been so wrong? With us in studio, is Professor Claire Fuhrman of the Comet and Asteroid Information Network located in the Center of Wales…
Professor Fuhrman, the title says it best…how could we have been so wrong?”
“To be perfectly honest with you, Hugh, the answer to that question is still being hotly debated: the more answers we discover, the more questions arise. One thing we do agree on however, is that the speed the asteroid was traveling made it especially hard to vector.”
“By vector, you mean to…chart or plot its course.”
“Yes, the speed and shape of the object seemed to have played heavily into the equation. It was wide and flat. There is the possibility the general shape of the object itself was able to create lift… sort of like an airplane wing. At that speed, of course, we just don’t know for sure at this point.”
“I’m sorry, are you saying the asteroid entered into our atmosphere and then flew back out?”
“Well I suppose so, Hugh, but that’s a bit of a wash over. Dante657 was coming in at an extreme angle. We knew it would travel a long way…. Remember, we predicted the asteroid would enter our atmosphere over the Middle East and impact thousands of miles away in the central United States. We were convinced that it would impact the earth…but we clearly understood it would be a glancing blow. It was traveling at just under twenty times the speed of sound, coming in at an angle less than thirty degrees. The idea of the wide flat surface of the asteroid causing the miniscule amount of lift needed for it to have skated through the atmosphere is well within the realm of possibility.”
“Hmmm, interesting…they’re saying Dante657 has left behind some surprising clues as to its origin. Can you update us on that?”
“Uh yes, Hugh, typically, asteroids are primordial objects left over from the formation of the solar system. Basically, we believe they’re leftover rocky matter that never successfully coalesced into a planet. Usually they reside within the main asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. Occasionally a collision knocks them off course. These asteroids are pretty much all made of the same thing. We find from the debris Dante657 left behind that it is made up of something entirely different.”
“So what you’re saying is, Dante657 didn’t come from the asteroid belt at all?”
“That’s right. That’s what we are thinking now.”
“If not from the asteroid belt, then where?”
“We think it’s a fragment of a planet in an elliptical orbit within our solar system.”
“What does that mean, professor?”
“That means Dante657 has been through this way many times before, and will almost certainly be back.”
“There’s another little tidbit of news circulating about our asteroid. Could you fill us in on that, professor?”
“Oh yes, using the present known vector, we were able to chart the asteroid’s past orbits.”
“And what have you found?”
“It appears Dante657 was the object of another near miss two thousand years ago, probably mistaken for a rogue star…as a matter of fact, we’re almost certain at this point, Dante657’s previous near miss was widely reported… We just never made the connection until recently. The asteroid was all but certainly the historical star of Bethlehem.”
“Very interesting, professor…Thank you for being with us.
In other news, the Arab Russian alliance has withdrawn from Israeli borders under the close scrutiny of the European Union. Officials of the former United States of America continue to petition for the reestablishment of the former government. So far, all the requests have been denied. American refugees are being encouraged to return to their homes on the American mainland… Governmental aid will be made available.”
“Also in related news…thousands of recently deposed American land owners and developers are screaming foul play regarding the spectacular land grab orchestrated by the British corporation Jeckle and Hidesman. It has been estimated that nearly a third of the entire North American continent has fallen into the hands of this cryptically named, privately owned corporation. Former land owners claim the property was sold under duress and has asked the British cabinet to intervene. Our sources tell us the transactions were perfectly legal and that it is highly unlikely any changes will be made. If all goes well for the company, Jeckle and Hidesman will become the first privately owned business whose assets range in the multiple trillions.”
“A sad note in closing… The former president of the now defunct United States of America has been found dead in his suite in Liverpool this morning, an apparent victim of suicide…
You’ve been watching the BBD news, updated by the minute.
This is Hugh Brolley…signing off….”
Other Books by CW Johnson
The Son of Man 2, Elders of Zion, now available everywhere.
The Son of Man 3, The Heylik, now available everywhere.
The Son of Man 4, The Golden Calf, now available everywhere.
The Princess of Shiloh, now available everywhere.
[email protected]
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Son-of-Man/155018934527615
About The Author
In the year 1997 I was a traveling musician. 1997 was the year my travels took me to an ancient town in Germany called Rothenberg… more specifically, the Cathedral of the Holy Blood Altar. It was there I witnessed with my own eyes a very interesting relic; a capsule said to contain three drops of Christ’s blood. This immediately piqued my imagination. What would happen if they actually found DNA within the capsule and cross-matched it with tissue found on the Shroud of Turin? What if it matched? This little flight of fantasy was the beginning of a journey that took me through dozens of false starts, years of writing and eventually through the never-ending editing process. The tale that emerged was as much a surprise to me as to anyone. It was very much like a story breaking free and escaping from my computer.
I sincerely hope that you will find my novel entertaining and that you will continue the journey on through the next three books in the series.
CW Johnson
Excerpt from CW Johnson’s new novel: The Princess of Shiloh
The Pullman limo pulled away from historic Paramount Pictures and turned right on Melrose Avenue.
Abigail sat alone in the back seat. Malorie had gone on before and Abigail couldn't blame her. Malorie was right. Abigail had been so absorbed in her own world she hadn't even notice Malorie’s distress.
In the beginning, when Abigail landed the sit-com, Malorie was ecstatic. It was almost as though her career was exploding rather than Abigail’s. Then came the franchise: a film adaption of the most popular book series seen in years. Abigail won the starring role and was proclaimed the ‘it’ girl overnight.
It all seemed so clear to Abigail as she sat watching the stores and shops go by on Melrose. Abigail’s meteoric rise to fame was so sudden and intense it completely overshadowed Malorie.
How could she have been so complacent not to have even noticed her best friend fading away. She’d been so comfortable with Malorie by her side she hadn't lifted a finger to help her the way she’d been helped.
She made a mental note. She was going to let Malorie go. And after letting her go, she was going to pull every string; call every favor; threaten and bribe anyone she could to see to it that Malorie received the push she’d always dreamed of.
A dress in the window of a small shop caught her attention and pulled her from her thoughts. “hold it, Jerry,” she said, leaning forward to get the ear of her driver. “Go around the block and stop in front of Mims. I want to check something out.”
She decided the
n and there to buy Malorie something. She’d buy her a personal gift, a peace offering, and fill her in on her plans for going forward. The driver circled the block and pulled up in front of the store. Abigail sat for a time looking out her tinted windows at the storefront display. Without notice she reached and opened the door.
“What are you doing?” her driver yelled. “You can't go out there!”
“No one’s in there,” Abigail said stepping out of the car.
The driver quickly shifted to the passenger side, rolled down his window and grunted in as loud a whisper as he could muster. “Abby! Abby! We don't have anyone here! We have no security!”
“No one’s even in there,” Abigail said. “It's just like McDonald's. I won't be long.”
The driver barked an unintelligible plea as Abigail left the car and wandered into the shop.
Before she reached the second isle of clothing the driver had rushed up behind her. He quickly jerked a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and pushed them towards her.
“At least put these on!” he barked.
She glanced at them and grimaced. “I’m not wearing those. Those are hideous.”
She looked up and found herself face to face with a young, female costumer. She was standing directly across an isle of displayed clothing. The girl’s eyes widened and her chin dropped. Abigail quickly spun to face her driver, yanked the glasses from his hand and put them on her face...but it was too late.
The girl across the aisle yelped and jumped back. “Abigail Warren!”
Abigail threw her a quick smile and wave. “Hi,” she said softly.
“Oh my God!” The girl yelled. “I love you!”
Abigail could practically visualize the ‘I told you so’ subliminal message her driver was sending her way.
Abigail put her finger to her mouth. “Shh,” she said softly, “I'm just...I'm in a little bit of a hurry.”
The girl was now scrambling through her bag. Within moments she came up with an iPhone and pushed it at Abigail? “Just one picture?”
“She's in a hurry,” the driver said, obviously concerned.
“Sure,” Abigail said, to the driver’s dismay, “but let’s keep it quiet. I don't want to....”
She glanced up and noticed six, maybe seven faces staring at her, all with the same wide eyes and open mouths.
“We've got to go,” the driver said, taking hold of Abigail's arm.
He pulled her towards the door but they were stopped by several costumers who quickly moved into their path.
Within moments everyone was shouting. phones where coming out of bags and being pushed in Abigail's face.
The driver tried to physically drag Abigail out the door but she resisted.
“Yes!” she yelled over the commotion. “We can take a few pictures.”
Within moments she was surrounded and separated from the only security she had.
She took the phone from one of the frazzled fans, leaned into her, smiled her radiant smile and snapped the picture. In a flash a half dozen smart-phones were in her face.
“Hold on!” she said as loud as she could, “we'll get them all.”
But the group wasn't listening. She glanced around for her driver and spotted him standing nearby making a phone call. He was obviously very concerned. He was downright scared. As she looked around she noticed several people running head on into the store.
Across the street, she spotted the familiar form of a faceless, camera wielding paparazzi racing towards the store. The word was out. Abigail Warren had been spotted in a little, out of the way shop on Melrose. She began to panic.
With the commotion came more and more people pouring into the store. She was being jostled. She could see her driver desperately trying to wade into the Malay. Someone else, likely the store manager, pushed, shouted and shoved but it was to no avail.
“Abigail, Abigail! ABIGAIL! ABIGAIL!” The paparazzi screamed over the widening crowd. “IS IT TRUE THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND, BROCK ABBYSON, POSTED NUDE PICTURES OF YOU ON INSTRAGRAM?”
“ABIGAIL! HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT BROCK DATING AGAIN?”
“ABIGAIL! HAS YOUR FAMILY SEEN THOSE NUDE PICTURES BROCK POSTED ON INSTRAGRAM?” “WHAT DOES YOUR FATHER SAY ABOUT YOU POSTING NUDE PICTURES ON INSTAGRAM?”
One of a dozen flashing paparazzi cameras struck her face just above her left eyebrow. She became terrified. She lashed out at the offending camera. The paparazzi, smelling a money shot, converged, pressing her into a corner.
She screamed for her driver and spotted familiar faces. It was her security; all of them. They were pushing their way through the mallei and wasn't being gentle about it.
Within seconds she was surrounded and the entire group bulldozed their way through the door, out into the clamoring sidewalk where she was shoved through the open door of her waiting car. Malorie, already in place, reached and pulled her in beside her.
The paparazzi surrounded the car. Cameras flashed. faceless people yelled, everyone pushing and shoving. Finally, the car was able to nudge its way through the crowd, onto the street and within moments they were once again traveling west on Melrose.
“Son of a bitch!” Abigail wailed, tears painting her cheeks in mascara. Her signature red hair was frazzled and she was bleeding slightly from the bang on the forehead received from the paparazzi’s camera.
“What's....” she coughed through bouts of sobbing, “what's wrong with those people?”
The car with the paparazzi in pursuit raced back to the hotel. They were rushed through gates leading into the underground parking effectively cutting off the ever-perusing paparazzi.
The troop finally made their way up the express elevator and found a crimson faced Bevaun Gibson waiting for them in Abigail's private room.
He seemed to pay no attention to how disheveled Abigail looked. He just began yelling.
“Could you please explain to me what the world's most recognized movie star was doing all by herself strolling nonchalantly around a clothing store smack in the middle of Hollywood?” He immediately shifted his attention to the bedazzled driver standing nearby. “And you! You get your belongings and get out! You’re fired!”
“It wasn't his fault,” Abigail said sheepishly. “It was my fault.”
“I don't give a shit about that!” the manager raged. “It's his job to get you from point A to point B without getting you killed! It's not a difficult job—“
“I just wanted a damn gift. I didn't think anyone was even there—“
“There's always someone there...and, you’ve got a room full of people who could’ve gotten that gift for you! If you wanted to go shopping, we could have made arraignments and...” the manager pointed a finger at the driver. “Why are you still here?”
“He's not going anywhere!” Abigail yelled.
The uncustomary response brought silence to the crowded room. She was often sullen, but none had ever seen her truly angry.
“It was my fault. I wanted a gift and SHUT UP!”
Abigail was screaming now.
“GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM!”
Her staff’s collective response was to stop in place and stare at her.
Abigail felt herself boil over. She began shoving.
“GET OUT! GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT!”
Bevaun, obviously unnerved my Abigail's behavior, began herding everyone out of her room.
The moment he cleared the room Abigail hollered: “Bevaun! Stay! We need to talk.”
“I know, sweetie. You're unhappy. But you'll get used to it—“
“I want you to find representation for Malorie.”
Bevaun frowned. “Malorie…your assistant?”
“No, Malorie the actress.”
“Since when?”
“Since right now.”
Bevaun smirked and shook his head. “Sweetie, that's not the way it works—“
“Why not?”
“Because she's never even made it through a screen test. She’s never
had a part. You can't just demand that the people in charge take a chance on her.”
“They took a chance on me!”
“They saw something in you. That's what they do. These people know what they're doing—“
“You know what?” Abigail interrupted, “I call bullshit! Every other person in Hollywood is somebody's son or daughter. Everybody knows it's not what you know, it's who you know and I want Malorie to start benefiting from who she knows.”
Bevaun sighed. “I'll do what I can, but I don't see—“
“If you don't help her, I'm gonna personally start shopping for her… and maybe for me.”
“Sweetie…come on, you're not taking this—“
“If you call me sweetie once more I'm gonna throat punch you!” Abigail yelled. “I make your company millions! You're gonna start treating me that way. Find Malorie representation! I expect things to start happening for her…fast. Now get out of my room!”
~~~
Travis reached his home before remembering Charlie’s video. By the time he returned with the video Charlie had spent ten minutes vigilantly watching out the living room window. Her tiny face beamed as he pulled into the driveway.
He stepped out of his company truck and slowly pulled the video out from behind his back.
Charlie giggled and clapped her little hands. Amy, Charlie’s babysitter, appeared at the window, pulled Charlie away and the two of them appeared at the door.
“Told you I’d bring you a movie,” Travis said as he moved up the small landing of stairs leading onto his porch.
“You forgot,” Charlie said.
Amy laughed. “She saw you pull up and leave.”
“No I didn't forget!” Travis countered, “I just decided I didn't want that dumb ol’ movie. I got one about the news instead.”
“Nooo!” Charlie wailed in mock anger. The grin on her face gave her away. “You got Princess Shiloh. I already saw it!”
“Oh crap!” Travis barked. “I guess I must have got that movie instead—“
Charlie had already snatched the video from Travis’ hand, pulled away from her babysitter and was moving head-long towards the DVD player.
“Wait, where you going?” Travis yelled. “We have to eat first.”
He smiled at his babysitter. “Sorry I'm late,” he said quietly. “I spaced it.”
