A Game of Gods: The End is Only the Beginning (The Anunnaki Chronicles Book 1)

by Kumar, K. Hari

  ‘Scientific instruction… for what?’

  ‘For this...’ The angel exclaimed and stopped suddenly on the way. The golden glow faded in around its back and its wings appeared. It rose above the ground and left enough illumination for Manav to see the circular platform on the ground. Manav’s eyes were wide open and curiosity accompanied by the anxiety of the unknown shuttled inside them. Kun-Ha called his ward to stand below it, ‘Step inside the Mandala…. the circle and hold on to my hind limbs gently.’

  Manav took a deep breath, a sense of fear replaced the curiosity of the knowledge seeker. The presence of the glowing angel in a cat’s body did little to boost his confidence.

  What am I doing? This is crazy. Should I pinch myself to wake up from this dream? The tall dangling man thought.

  ‘No my dear, you are not dreaming at all. Just trust me and step in… Hurry, I cannot keep this vortex open for long.’ The angel said after reading his thought.

  ‘What the hell!’ Manav gasped and quickly stepped inside the Mandala and as asked held the hind limbs of the floating angel whose upper body was almost engulfed by the glowing light. They were warmer by a few degrees centigrade or maybe it was too cold inside the underground temple.

  ‘Hey, gently I said. Do not squeeze the flesh out of my paws. I am delicate.’ Kun-Ha exclaimed.

  Manav softened his grip on the angel’s limb and then in a moment of a micro second, there was a blinding explosion and nothing remained inside the Mandala after that.

  Silence and Darkness was restored in that place, once again.

  25

  Somewhere in the outskirts of Giza

  The Boeing CH-47D gloriously hovered over the blue waters of the Nile. The twin engine American heavy-lift helicopter could easily carry over a score of heavily armored marines, and today it was only carrying four marines and three civilians. Among the three, two were women, Chinese journalist Xhin-Jo from Beijing and Pakhi Dutta from Mumbai. The third was Dmitri Schwerovsky of the Russian News Network, very well known in his region for those silky blonde hair and ravishing blue eyes.

  The three external-cargo hooks carried cuboidal container of arms supplies for the army base. They were running out of supplies, for everyday the radicals were growing in strength. The American base had reportedly lost over five thousand men and two bases in the African region in the last 6 months. While the setting up of a base in Giza came against strong protests from taxpayers back home, for they believed that their money was being used to achieve the American agenda of global domination and not for the welfare of whatever they already had. The common people of the United States of America had long grown tired of their government’s obsession with world domination. After the attack in Paris in 2015 and Geneva in 2016, the world had taken stern action against any radical bases. After Obama’s term, the United States had witnessed more unrest from its own people than from rest of the world. While there was an emergence of a greater alignment in Asia that saw India, Russia, Afghanistan and Japan entering into an alliance, which kept China and India from barging against each other. The USA was heavily depending on Pakistan to keep a check on the growth of the alliance and China in the region.

  Xhin-Jo and Dmitri had already struck into conversation in a common language that Pakhi did not understand.

  It must be Russian. She thought. She felt herself being ignored by the two journalists. She looked at the marines. While three of them were standing guard at each of the four exits with a machine gun, ready to pull the trigger the moment a radical is spotted on the ground, the fourth marine did not have gun. Instead he was carrying a bag and walked towards Pakhi. The man’s body was muscular and his face rough, yet his eyes were light brown and carried generic innocence of a nine year old. It reminded of her niece. He passed a momentary smile and opened the bag to pull out a digital tablet attached to a set of wireless Bluetooth headphones.

  ‘Here, just press this button,’ he said showing the right side of the device that had a button. He continued, ‘The briefing of the operation is contained in this device and as soon the video is over, the device will automatically shut down.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She said receiving the device. She placed the headphone over her ears.

  ‘Oh, the briefing is in English, we could not arrange one in Indian.’

  ‘Indian?’

  ‘You know… your language.’

  ‘Nevermind, I can understand American pretty well.’ She passed a pissed smile and the Marine moved to the Russian. It was difficult to explain a rough neck that there is no language called Indian. The very concept of India was complex and remnant children of European colonists would not understand it. She chose to ignore the white man’s ignorance.

  The chopper punched through the air at a top speed of 300 kilometers per hour and it was extremely difficult to hear anything else but the sound of the chopper’s blades and engine. However, the moment she had the headphones on, she felt the outside sound cut off almost entirely, which was quite surprising. She thought the item must be of German make, band she checked the jack, and a Made in India mark was engraved on it in small font next to logo of a lion. She felt proud as an Indian. She pressed the button as suggested by the marine. The screen lit up and on a black background appeared a graphic interface that asked to select a language from one of the following – Mandarin, Russian, Spanish and English.

  ‘Where the fuck is Indian?’ Pakhi sighed as she went ahead and touched the screen where the button for English was shown.

  ‘Thank you for choosing your input. My name is VABS, your Virtual Army Briefing System.’ Said a voice and this was followed by the appearance of 3D model of a male face. Pakhi had seen many Hollywood war films and all of them had given her the expectation that the briefing would done by a real army personnel, maybe Harker or his subordinates, at the army bases or some other secretive location. But here she was; inside a chopper with a couple of hostile journalists who were also glued to their respective digital tablets, fortunate enough to listen to the briefing in their own languages. The 3D face was perfectly fair with grey eyes and light brown hair, the kind of typecast face that could represent the United States of America. It had on its perfectly rendered pink lips, a smile that came almost close to a real one.

  It started speaking in its digitally maneuvered voice, ‘Before I begin I must inform you that this device is automatically enabled and disabled, however, you can pause this anytime by tapping on the screen’s center. You can rewind by swiping your finger from center to left, and forward by swiping from center to right. Or alternately you may use the time bar that appears at the bottom of the screen.’ It took a second’s pause and began, ‘I am sure that you have been following events that have been unfolding in the past decade. From the onset of the Ansar Bait al-Maqdis and IS to various smaller radical groups that took birth in the desert nation, it was clear that the new center of terrorist activity was in the North African region, and it was the perfect location to infiltrate militants into Europe. We had no other option but to move our base from Iraq to Egypt.’

  A map of Egypt replaced the 3D face on the screen and showed the path taken by the infiltrators using arrows. The digital voice continued, ‘In 2015, the American Army set up its first large base outside the Giza plateau with the permission of the Egyptian government that had started showing sign of decline due to the overgrowing presence of the IS, backed by anti-government protests by the citizens. Our army successfully pulled off anti-terror operations in the metropolis. On January 7 2015, a radical group bombed the ruins of Qasr al Abd in Jordan and an ancient temple in Iraq, and we were already aware that the radicals made it a point to destroy all ancient wonders elsewhere, so we deployed 24 x 7 surveillance team around the Pyramids of Giza and Sphinx. Incidentally, in February our surveillance team witnessed a total electronic blackout from the region. Upon inspection, we found a group of men planting some form a primitive device around the Giza plateau. All men taller than seven feet, clad in black outfits. Most
of them escaped, but we were able to capture two of them. Neither showed any signs of defiance or hostility, it was as if getting caught was their intention.’

  The screen showed images of the two captives and explained, ‘Javed Ibn Ifrar, 27, and Isaac Basil, 29, revealed themselves to be the men of Mesha mes-en Saret, or the Army born of Wisdom. Almost all Egyptologists unanimously dismiss the Mesha mes-en Saret as a mythical unity formed by the minister of Pharaoh Khasekhemwy in the second millennia BCE. Their objective was to preserve the deepest of Egyptian secrets about creation of humanity, and aid its resurrection at the end of the stipulated time.’

  Then a video recording of the captives played. The first one chanted something that sounded like an obsolete language while the second one proclaimed in English that had a heavy tint of Greek, ‘We come in peace, we are the keepers of the creator, and we shall reveal the truth soon. Stay away from the sphinx and you shall be spared, for even if you dare to hinder the progression of the creator, you cannot escape the day of his return. Hail Atem! Hail Ptah! Hail Anu! Hail Anunnaki!’ The chants carried the highest decibels of energy, almost superhuman. Suddenly, the shine in the eyes of the two men disappeared and fell on the ground. Even the army personnel were stunned to see the incident, for nobody had shot at the captives, neither had they taken a dose of cyanide. It was as if they simply left their bodies at will. The video was soon replaced by a picture of some devices lying on sand. The voice started briefing again, ‘These were the devices planted by the men. We presumed it to be some kind of explosives; however, upon closer inspection we found out that they were not explosives at all. In fact, they were some kind of advanced transmitters in the most primitive outer covering. Experts at NASA inferred it as an inter-dimensional communication device; however they were totally illiterate about its functioning. They embarrassingly admitted that it was a highly sophisticated technology totally unknown to the NASA, and instantly suggested to classify the operation. Our government immediately classified the Operation Anunnaki. Since then we have been monitoring the situation very closely. We have seen the black crusaders, that’s what we are calling the members of the Mesha mes-en Saret. They have not yet made any destructive attempt at anything, but regularly come to program the device at sunrise and sunset.

  ‘In September last year, the black crusaders started digging the sand, exactly between the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid. The following week, six crusaders were seen at the site and they were invoking some invisible entity before falling down on the sand lifeless. We have established that there is something ‘out of this world’ activity going on in the Giza necropolis and every day since then our monitoring devices have picked up irregular readings in the electromagnetic spectrum, largely in the highest frequency ranges. Our scientists are working on it as I speak to you. As of now we have not revealed anything to the media, for we believe that such sort of information would create panic among ordinary human beings across the world. It is important for us to find out what has been going on, as part of the Operation Anunnaki’s selective declassification agenda. We have invited one journalist each from United States, China, Russia, Australia, United Kingdom, and India. Your job is to collect data from our operation and prepare stories in case we decide to declassify the operation. The….’

  Just then the entire chopper rocked and a loud sound was heard, something had brutally hit the American air-carrier. And then another impact was felt and a piece of the metallic wall of the chopper fell off and thick fumes of smoke filled inside. Pakhi lost her balance, the tablet dropped off her hand, and she felt a tight hand gripping her from behind. It was one of the marines who had given her the tablet earlier.

  ‘We have been hit by a rocket, launched from the outskirts of Giza city. We are going down, I repeat, we are going down.’ He said into a lapel attached to his collar.

  Pakhi looked around in shock, but before she could analyze the situation another rocket hit the chopper. This time a hole formed behind the Russian journalist and he was oozed out of the chopper at lightning speed, and before the marine could hold her, Xhin-Jo was sucked out of the CH-47D too. Terribly in shock, Pakhi’s eyes filled up. She looked at the man who was tightly holding her from falling. She felt a salty uprise from her stomach, and within a second her eyes drew a blank and she surrendered to the shock of the moment.

  28

  Sri Ganganagar, Rajasthan

  At first everything was normal, the beautiful dunes of sand draped the stone structure underneath like a saree around a woman’s bosom. Couple of palms stood firmly on the sand against the marginally blowing desert wind. From the cracked trunk of the palms, it seemed as if they had been protesting strongly for decades against the atrocities of the desert, if not centuries. Then there was a flash of white light, accompanied by a thumping sound. The supersonic eruption spat out two creatures; a winged cat and gagged man of significantly tall stature. The cat landed softly on all fours, few feet from the palm while the man crashed on the land with his heel over head.

  ‘What was that?’ the man asked between coughs.

  ‘I told you to hold on, but you could not do that. Why did you let go?’ Kunya asked as it helped Manav get up on his feet.

  ‘I did, but everything around was so bright that I could not see anything but whiteness and there was this ringing sound echoing in my ears. I felt my intestines pushing upwards and so clenched my stomach with hand that is when I let go.’

  ‘That was the fastest way to travel from Chendi to Rajasthan.’

  Rajasthan?’ Manav looked around and realized that there was nothing but sand, all around him. His mouth writhed in an element of shock, ‘Is this…?’

  ‘Yes, we are in the middle of the Great Indian Desert of Thar.’ Kun-Ha revealed with the pride of a cat.

  ‘How… How long were we there in that white portal?’

  ‘You mean… the Vimana? It is an instantaneous means of teleportation.’

  ‘Vimana is a pseudoscientific flying machine from Hindu mythology?’ Manav asked.

  ‘I know that you are not much of a fan of religion, particular this one. But yes, this is the very same Vimana that is studied and described primitively in Vimana Samhita.’

  ‘I thought it was all mythical.’

  ‘Well, I am glad that it is mythical for your kind. I cannot imagine the ill consequences of human race operating teleportation device like Vimana. That evil German dictator came close to creating one; before his guardian angel called back his soul.’ The angel carried a chauvinistic opinion that was prejudiced against the humankind. Manav had noticed this judgemental attitude which made him uncomfortable.

  Well, now I have seen it. Are not you worried that I might spread the word… the secret out in the open?’ Manav inquired.

  ‘Firstly, if you do then your own people will dismiss for being insane. Secondly, a Vimana can only be invoked by an angel or a demigod. The Anunnaki were smart. They hid most of their brilliance from humankind because they foresaw the barbaric instinct of man.’ The angel abruptly stopped its commentary as if it was about to slip out something from its tongue, that was forbidden to a humankind. It immediately switched topic, ‘Look! There it is...’ Kun-Ha exclaimed and pointed its left palm towards the north.

  Manav immediately sighted a ruined stone structure at a distance of hundred meters. It was an ancient temple, although the outer structure of the temple was broken into large chunks, as it was destroyed by a treacherous army of soulless invaders in the past. As the man and his guardian angel started moving towards the Garbagriha or the sanctum sanctorum of the temple beneath the Vimana, the desert wind started blowing in a harsher trend, and thick sheets of sand were uprooted from the west and propelled to the other side.

  ‘Just keep moving with me.’ Kun-Ha instructed Manav who was struggling against the sand grains that were hitting him on the face from the left.

  ‘Why can’t you carry me into the temple?’

  ‘Struggle… Oh Human! The path to destination is not an
easy one. You chose to follow it, now use your will power to overcome all obstacles. This is just a little test of the desert. It is hardly twenty one steps from here.’

  ‘You know, I am starting to dislike the moral science preacher in you. I guess, I can make it if I count my steps.’

  ‘Whatever helps you...’

  And then Manav started counting… ‘One… Two...’

  29

  Late at night

  Outside El-Salam Hospital, Giza

  A group of stoutly built men adorned in black outfits traversed their way across the road and ventured into the Hospital. A veil of black cloth covered their mouth, and a silver button, placed wickedly on the front side, held their turban together. Three of them stopped at the front entrance, and waited with their swords drawn out in defense. They hid themselves in the shadow of the night. The remaining two went inside, and walked towards the reception.

  The receptionist saw the mysteriously dressed men approaching his desk; he immediately recognized them as one of the radicals who had been raiding hospitals in the region. Instinctively, he went ahead to press the emergency alarm, however, he felt something gently kissing his left ear. Something cold and metallic. He turned to look at the object and realized he was being held at gun point by one of the men who came from outside.

  ‘Do as we say, or we will send you to jah’anum.’ The man threatened. His voice was stern as a rock, and frozen as ice.

  ‘What do you want?’ The receptionist asked trembling.

  ‘Check your records. We want a divine woman.’

  ‘D…d…divine woman?’ The receptionist was confused.

  ‘Yes, the one that was born of the Gods and made for the pleasure of the Gods. We want her.’ The man stated in an ecstatic manner.