"How is that possible?" Ernest said in wonder. "It's like standing before the gates to Heaven."
Suddenly the light began to dissipate, making way for a glorious sky, the very one over the city of Syracuse at that moment. The clouds took their shapes from the whims of the wind right before their eyes, creating the sensation of being close enough to reach out and touch with their hands. The city lay revealed at their feet with all its streets, buildings, inhabitants... everything. It was as if the sky had transformed itself into a satellite where information is collected about what exists under its lens and then transmitted for the temple to interpret and project the data.
"This can't be real," an astonished Nino remarked.
"Now I believe it," declared Ernest, pointing to the altar at the rear of the temple.
"Believe what?" Claudia asked.
The man opened a stone box by fitting a key into a panel and took out a book.
"This is the Voynich Manuscript, but not the copy they display in the museum. This is the original. These pages that could never be deciphered described the greatest secrets of the universe. Like how to build a machine to create energy using nuclear fusion, how to compress time and space. There are even drawings in here where men are apparently manipulating the DNA of animals and plants. And more secrets that we still haven't managed to decipher even today.
"So... then... did Apollonius actually decipher it?"
"Possibly, Claudia," Ernest replied, "but it's even more probable that Archimedes was the first to do it."
"And his disciples utilized this knowledge," Nino interjected.
"Or part of it. There are wonders in the world whose existence we simply are not capable of explaining, like this temple. It is our obligation to bring them together, protect them, decipher their meaning and share the knowledge acquired with the rest of humanity, but without placing the discoveries in jeopardy."
Claudia walked away from them and pointed to a wall where there was no reflection of the outside world.
"Apparently, the construction wasn't perfect. The mechanism failed here."
Ernest came over.
"It's true, although I don't believe the failure was due to Apollonius' design."
"So... then what?"
"I have the feeling the mayor of Syracuse isn't going to like it very much when we tell him we have to rebuild the sanctuary," Ernest chuckled.
And right there, where the sky bordered the earth, the new members of the order of the living dead laughed heartily with their new brethren, and dreamed of all the secrets yet to be revealed.
THE END
* * *
* This was the basic weapon, along with the sword (gladius), of the soldiers in Roman legions. It was similar to a lance or javelin and measured about two meters long.
* Fountain of the Plaza de Archimedes
* Fountain of Artemis
* Our Lady of Tears
THE ISLAND OF JAN MAYEN
Title: The Island of Jan Mayen
Original Idea: Alexander Copperwhite
Cover: Víctor Manuel Mirete Ramallo
Text and style revision: Corrigenda
© All Rights Reserved
CHAPTERS
TOC
Introduction
Alexander Copperwhite is one of those writers capable of weighing his words very carefully without limiting his ability to say whatever he wants. That quality is so evident that his writings acquire a foundation of credibility and clarity that, when enhanced by his masterful skill in crafting plots laden with intrigue and mystery, creates a succulent cocktail that is easy to digest.
The Island of Jan Mayen is a fine example of what I just described, since the fluid, well-researched dialog, as well as parallel plots driving the story forward, enables the reader to experience the mystery surrounding the submarine in the story in a more direct, dramatic and tangible form.
A great story told within a 40-page short story, which speaks volumes of the writer's ability to synthesize what is truly necessary and vital so that a narrative taking place in time periods far removed from one another becomes a highly comprehensible and exciting story. That description in no way minimizes the essence, aromas, sense of color and visual flair of the surroundings and atmosphere so skillfully created by the author. Copperwhite has known how to portray the environment inside a submarine during wartime in fantastic and informative fashion. The reader feels the high tension, cramped quarters, anxiety, harshness and magnificence of every detail in an intensely sensory, visceral way.
Similarly, the Island of Jan Mayen is a clear example that history exists by and for some purpose. It is one of those literary works that demonstrate the fact that the past cannot be erased and that history is the most evident proof of the actions, adventures and misadventures of human beings.
But this short story also comes with a conclusion full of the magic, romanticism, humanity and hope that we all need at some time. When you read this work, it is impossible to avoid thinking that, when we step back to look at history in a broader, more general sense, we understand that if we reflect deeply on our time, the greatest milestones and events of humanity are invariably the cumulative result of a succession of anecdotes, small passages, mysteries and isolated incidents that have undoubtedly changed the world. And although fiction is invented and reality happens, the mind only imagines what it is open to conceive of happening.
The Island of Jan Mayen: "A brilliant, absorbing and rewarding tale".
Víctor Manuel Mirete Ramallo
I – A Submarine Voyage
Who could imagine a love born out of hate that finally turns into passion! Who knows how our mind will react in the face of specific situations at unexpected moments! If our emotions betray our beliefs, who can assure us that the course of history has not been manipulated by hate, but by greed instead?
*
The diesel engine was idling. The freezing water rubbed against the reinforced hull of the ship and the crew maintained strict silence.
"Fifteen degrees to starboard," the captain whispered under his breath.
The order was passed along silently and the submarine changed course.
"Twelve degrees to port."
The interior of the submarine felt like a freezer, but the men were still sweating anyway.
"All ahead and reduce speed," the captain whispered again.
Cruising at periscope death made it easy to make out the tip of an iceberg, but what lay hidden beneath the surface was of far greater concern. Enormous mountains of ice slowed the progress of the submarine and turned the journey into a very perilous voyage. It was worth it.
The captain was experienced in avoiding the obstacles and looking out for his crew.
"This war is absurd," he said. He had no desire to receive an Iron Cross posthumously. He preferred to live and regret not having won it. "Hahaha," he chuckled to himself.
When the war began, he savored the bittersweet victory of sinking several cargo ships that were easy targets. But when he saw how the crew members drowned and burned even as they were trying to save them, it disgusted and nauseated him.
Leave the butchers' work to the butchers, he thought to himself.
He called a childhood friend who worked for the Nazi Party in Berlin and pulled a few strings that helped the captain get new orders to withdraw from the English Channel. After sinking two more cargo ships, he was called to the capital, awarded a star for dedicated service and assigned to patrol the North Sea and coast of Norway with his crew. A quiet assignment.
"Eight degrees to starboard," the captain muttered.
The metal framework of the submarine groaned after rubbing against the enormous mass of ice.
The sound passed through the sub from bow to stern, paralyzing the hearts of everyone on board.
Absolute silence.
"Three degrees to starboard."
Perfect! Everything was proceeding smoothly.
"We're moving away from the area where most of th
e icebergs are concentrated," the captain announced. "I'm turning command over to the executive officer."
"The executive officer is taking command," the sub-lieutenant repeated.
The captain walked away and headed towards the officer's area, which occupied a corner with three benches, a table secured to the floor, and a small curtain that separated it from the passageway everyone used.
"The corner of imaginary privacy," he called it.
"My apologies for the delay, gentlemen."
A tall man with white hair, bushy eyebrows and a penetrating gaze was seated in one corner. He wasn't wearing a navy uniform. Flight wings adorned the right side of his shirtfront and lines of colors decorated the left side where his medals hung. There was an emblem of the American army on his right shoulder.
"It doesn't matter," the American said.
The man across from him was a slim yet strong man with blond hair and blue eyes, albeit far removed from the stereotypical German. The silver pendant with the Star of David tucked away safely under his sweater was only visible when he washed. Not that anyone on that ship gave a damn.
"We continue with the plan," the Jewish man said.
The short, dark-haired captain with bulging eyes looked very southern European and lacked any aspirations of belonging to the Aryan race. He sat down with his two guests and took out a map hidden underneath his uniform jacket.
"OK", the captain whispered. "Then we're agreed that after our discovery, the island of Jan Mayen is the perfect place for carrying out our plans."
II – The Present
Today...
"Didn't you tell me that the weather was milder in summer?"
The youngest member of the team, Jürgen Biserten, briskly rubbed his hands together. Even though he was wearing waterproof gloves, his hands were freezing cold and he was doing everything he could to warm them up.
"Oh, don't complain, at least there's light. During the winter, the snow covers everything and the sun only comes out occasionally," replied professor Olaf Fitsier, the expedition leader. "It's virtually the same now, but different."
"What do you mean, different?"
"Yes, don't you see you can make out the ground between the patches of snow?"
"That's all?"
"That's it," the professor declared.
Jürgen never stopped wondering why his professor had asked him to accompany him. He wasn't a brilliant student by any means and only wanted the degree to secure a job as a history professor in some small school so he wouldn't have to lead a complicated life.
Maybe he brought me out here to motivate me, or punish me, he thought to himself.
One objective of this expedition made up of four scientists, six soldiers and captain Frederick Johansen of the Royal Norwegian Navy was to study the limited flora and fauna on the island. The other was to investigate the remains of an ancient settlement, supposedly Viking in origin, that one of the meteorologists who worked at the weather station on the southern part of the island had discovered by accident. The weather station was the expedition's departure point.
"How is that a meteorologist knows so much about Vikings?" asked Erika Oriksen.
The brilliant young archaeologist, who loved glazed donuts and Swiss chocolates, couldn't believe professor Olaf would have assembled an expedition in such a rush and based on such limited evidence. She would follow him to the ends of the earth, although it struck her as very strange that such a meticulous scholar so widely respected among his peers in the worldwide scientific community would risk his reputation by wasting his time on investigating the crazy ideas of some amateur. The photographs he received by e-mail were hardly conclusive and didn't show any signs that it might be a Viking settlement. They looked more like the remains of an impromptu whaling port, abandoned over 150 years ago.
"Sometimes we have to follow our instincts and take a chance," the professor answered.
"But that isn't what you taught us. You told us that absolute certainty is what leads to success and builds a reputation," Erica replied.
The professor looked at her out of the corner of his eye, smiling.
"It could be that I'm getting old, you know."
The soldiers had unloaded all their equipment by now and the two sailors on board the boat that had brought them ashore waved goodbye. The cruiser Salt Marsh had orders to leave the expedition on land and give them support from sea. But when a destroyer suffered an accident in the waters off Greenland, the ship had to rush away in a hurry, without being sure exactly when it would come back.
Better that way. If they're not lurking around here, they won't get mixed up in my affairs, the professor thought.
The fourth member of the team, Hans Yuvin, a professional adventurer and sometimes bon vivant, was in charge of security for the members of the scientific team. An expert in survival in areas with extreme weather, he turned out to be the perfect candidate for the job, both for his physical attributes and his inclination not to ask too many questions.
The most suspicious thing about the whole affair was when the captain and his men joined them. The meteorologists running the weather station had suddenly stopped transmitting their reports. The Norwegian government initially sent planes on a reconnaissance mission to determine what had happened. But the visibility was terrible so they didn't know if it was a breakdown in the broadcast antenna, some kind of radio failure, or something else entirely. It was as if the island was empty.
III – The New Arrivals
The station was located about half an hour by foot from their landing point. Located on the southern end of the island, it boasted an impressive, sophisticated array of equipment for measuring changes in the climate and recording changes in the sea and ocean currents. The activity on the island should have been significantly higher at this time of year but, due to a series of small storms that gradually turned into a single extended one, routine scientific and military operations had been suspended until further notice. Luckily for the professor and his team, an emergency expedition was quickly thrown together after communications broke off between the island and the central command in Norway. Thanks to the professor's contacts, the scientific team managed to secure passage on the ship, although they were not exactly welcomed on board with open arms.
That hardly mattered to the professor.
The trek to the station was hard, especially carrying all the equipment on their backs. The navy captain had no qualms about openly showing how unhappy he was and constantly gave them sideways glances. The soldiers did their best to keep up appearances as tough guys, even though they had barely started shaving, and patrolled the perimeter as if they were in enemy territory. Hans, the boldest among them, managed to strike up a conversation with Erika, who he thought was very attractive despite the obvious lack of interest she showed towards the muscular young man.
"I remember when I was a kid and my mother sent me off on hiking trips," Jürgen said ironically.
"You know I didn’t make a mistake in bringing you," the professor replied, arching his left eyebrow.
It was so cold that morning that mist was rising up beneath their feet.
"It's like walking inside a freezer," Jürgen said, and lifted his left foot up to see what was stuck on the sole of his shoe.
"Stop fooling around and walk," the professor grumbled.
Off in the distance, a white fox watched the recent arrivals march along. He had already been inside the place they were heading towards, but for entirely different reasons. The smell of decaying remains always attracted the attention of the handful of furry inhabitants on the island. And the fox was still licking its chops from the blood that had stained its muzzle.
IV – Radio Problems
Four weeks before...
"We're calling from... (tssssss) visibility is... (tssssss) we can't... (tssssss).
"Repeat message please. Can't understand you, over," answered the radio operator at the Norwegian central command.
—Rep.... (tsssss)
the... (tsssss) is not pos... (tsssss) ne... (tsssss) hel... (tsssss)."
"We do not understand the message. Repeat! We do not understand the message. Connect to the emergency system and try to transmit in Morse code. Repeat! Connect to the emergency system and transmit in Morse code. We can't make out what you are saying."
"Nooooooo! (tsssss) ple... (tsssss) N... (tssssss).
Tssssssssssssssssssssss...
"What the hell was that?" asked the alarmed officer sitting next to the operator.
"Central command here!"
Tssssssssssssssssssssss...
"Central command here!" the radio operator repeated. "Can you hear me? Over."
Tssssssssssssssssssssss...
"They're not answering, sir."
"Something bad happened," said the officer. "It will be best to report this incident immediately. You keep trying, and if you manage to contact them, notify me immediately.
"Yes, sir."
The officer put on his peaked officer's cap, looked over the team in the communications room with a certain degree of concern and headed for the exit. He grabbed the handle but before turning it to open the door, he addressed his unit again.
"Don't stop trying to reach them, no matter what happens. I have the feeling that something serious has happened there."
All the personnel focused on obtaining satellite images, organizing fly-overs by unmanned spy planes and transmitting radio signals on different frequencies. And the operator continued repeating the same message over and over again.
"Central command here! Come in."
Tssssssssssssssssssss...
"Central command here! Come in, please."
Tales from the Voynich Manuscript and the Island of Jan Mayen Page 11
