The Pathfinder Trilogy
All Novels By:
Todd M. Stockert
Text Copyright © 12/2005 & 6/2012 by Todd M. Stockert
All Rights Reserved
The entire TRILOGY, in ONE handy EBook!
Book One – The Pathfinder Project
Book Two – Project Wasteland
Book Three – Project Earth
Dedication: This book is dedicated to the astronauts who have lost their lives in the pursuit of exploring space, as well as to ALL of those soldiers in the U.S., our dear friends in the U.K. and other NATO allies, and the rest of the hard working citizens of the free world, who have fought to keep us safe over the years. These soldiers... these people are the real life heroes who actually go out and DO the kinds of positive things on our tough planet that the rest of us can only dream about. I would also like to include a memorial honoring ALL those who have died defending freedom, fighting fires, serving in law enforcement or otherwise putting their own lives on the line for the rest of us. We ordinary citizens couldn't survive in this world of ours without a lot of brave, courageous heroes to keep us safe!
This novel is also dedicated to my extended family, friends and all of the people I have lived life with, laughed with, and who have since passed on. Many of the names, traits, comments, and personalities of these people are sprinkled into the characters that were written specifically for this storyline. May God keep their souls safe and happy and protect them forever! I love and miss you all! As for my immediate family... I love all of you dearly! Hi Mom & Dad!
Fair Warning! These are stories about space exploration on a scale never before reached, occurring after a major war on Earth. If the discussion of religion or Intelligent Design offends you, then this will not be the book for you. It just didn’t seem realistic to me that the human spirit could travel towards the literal end of all Creation and still remain human without at least wondering whether or not God designed the Universe.
These stories are not meant to be anything other than fictional entertainment and a little bit of waxing philosophical.
Remember the reboot of “Battlestar Galactica” during its run from 2003 – 2007? The characters from that show, even the villainous Cylons, held deep, religious family roots that they regularly drew upon for spiritual strength. I also took inspiration from the portrayal and positive nods to Earth’s variety of religions in many episodes of a wonderful show called “Babylon 5”. One of the best quotes I’ve ever heard came from that show: “Maybe God doesn’t care how you say your prayers as long as you say them”.
The third story in this trilogy just sort of evolved out of the aether – mostly inspired by a fan fiction idea I abandoned long ago along with inspiration from the classic, fantastic action movie “Ben-Hur”. It always amazes me that Jesus and Charlton Heston only cross paths twice in that entire movie – and yet Jesus steals the entire show. The movie is actually subtitled “A Tale of the Christ”.
IF you choose to read this final book in the trilogy, please open your mind to alternate points of view. Maybe you’re one of those people who choose not to believe in God or religion of any kind… I can respect that. But even so, at minimum, doesn’t the phrase “do unto others as we would have them do unto us” just kind of make logical sense? Don’t the Ten Commandments seem like reasonable guidelines for living a decent and honest life?
I have concluded that the secret of life is to LIVE it well and to enjoy all of creation… life is truly miraculous. If you made it this far, congratulations and thank you for your consideration! I really hope you enjoy the Pathfinder series!
Sincerely,
Todd
Contents
Book One – The Pathfinder Project CAS Technology Diagram (Large)
Prologue: The End
Chapter I: Armageddon
Chapter II: Hide and Seek
Chapter III: Reality Check
Joseph’s Pathfinder Sketch
Chapter IV: Boomerang
Chapter V: Memorial
Chapter VI: Flux Control
Pathfinder Schematic (Side & Top Views)
Chapter VII: Aftermath
Chapter VIII: Affairs of State
Chapter IX: Chaos Theory
Chapter X: Phantasmagoria
Chapter XI: Scaredy Cat
Chapter XII: Black Tie Affair
Mystery Transmission
Chapter XIII: Wasteland
Chapter XIV: Situation Normal…
Chapter XV: Dark Matters for Discussion
Chapter XVI: Intelligent Debate
Chapter XVII: Poseidon’s Might
Mystery Transmission (Updated)
Lucy’s Picture
Chapter XVIII: Discovery
The Proteus Galaxy
Chapter XIX: Terra Firma
Chapter XX: Missive
Epilogue: The Beginning
Book Two – Project Wasteland CAS Technology Diagram (Large)
The Pathfinder
The Proteus Galaxy
Prologue: Battle Scars
Chapter I: Long Distance Allies
Chapter II: Rise of the Yakiir
Chapter III: Keeping It Right
Chapter IV: Turning The Tables
Chapter V: Blood Thirst
Noah’s Mystery Transmission
Chapter VI: The Study Of A Ruthless Mind
Chapter VII: Voyage Of The Ali Rinai
Chapter VIII: Stolen Nightmares
Chapter IX: Paroxysm
Chapter X: Really, Really Bad Diplomacy
Chapter XI: A Brief Taste Of Home
Chapter XII: The Absence Of Morality
Chapter XIII: Aftermath
Chapter XIV: Hope And Glory
Chapter XV: The Foothold In The Wasteland
Chapter XVI: The Calm Before The Storm
Chapter XVII: Kicking Over Anthills
Chapter XVIII: Meridian
Chapter XIX: A Lantern In The Darkness
Chapter XX: The Hardest Part…
Epilogue: Looking Toward The Future
Book Three – Project Earth Prologue: The Beginning Of The End
Israel in the Time of Christ
Chapter I: Gifts From The Future
Chapter II: Left Behind
Chapter III: Brothers Born For Adversity
Chapter IV: Crossing The Jordan
Chapter V: Brotherhood Diplomacy
Chapter VI: Making It Right
Chapter VII: Fika
Chapter VIII: Mixed Heritage
Chapter IX: The Making Of A Miracle
Chapter X: Matthew 4:1–11
Chapter XI: By The Dawn’s Early Light
Chapter XII: When Darkness Becomes Light
Epilogue: The End Of The End
About The Author
CAS Technology Diagram (Large)
THE PATHFINDER PROJECT
Prologue: The End
The following events take place in the Sol-system at some point in the 22nd century…
After being forced to wait nearly three and a half hours, His Majesty King Drik Gyilto the second was finally admitted into the lowest level of the underground compound by two security guards. Both of the men were tall brutes, broad-shouldered and each dressed almost completely in black. They carried long, curved hunting knives strapped firmly to their waists along with fully automatic machine guns. Gyilto was familiar with the weapons, because it was his government that had acquired them for the Brotherhood. Money from his coffers had also funded most of the underground construction.
The rocky, winding corridor through which he was escorted seemed way too tall and wide to be completely safe s
o far beneath the surface. The initial tunneling effort reaching down this far had obviously been completed long before his time, but Gyilto was nevertheless impressed by the workmanship. He was so far down below on this particular visit that he seriously doubted even the most powerful bunker busting bombs could threaten the integrity of the sprawling underground complex. Every few dozen yards, huge steel support beams reinforced flat metal sheets braced against the tunnel ceiling. It all looked and felt totally secure.
Somewhere in the distance, not far ahead, he heard the sound of water dripping.
Fortunately for his darkening mood, the walk was a rather short one. After his long wait in the small, claustrophobic lounge, his Majesty’s patience was wearing extremely thin. He had personally taken it upon himself to visit the Brotherhood’s central command station in his small country of Ghuitan on several occasions, but Drik Gyilto had never before been treated so rudely. Then again, he had never before asked to see the actual command center itself. The Triumvirate in charge of the Brotherhood was notoriously secretive and hesitant to share their operations with anyone – even those who paid the bills were on a need to know basis. In the end, Gyilto hadn’t minded much since the arrangement offered more than a little political protection… just in case things somehow went sour. Espionage operations had a notorious tendency to do just that, unfortunately.
Then there were the rumors swirling through all major cities in Ghuitan that something major was in the works, and that whatever it was that would take place would happen soon. Ordinarily such idle gossip did not concern him, because there were always plenty of false rumors circulating, much of it deliberately planted to mislead. But Gyilto was certain of his sources in this particular case – he had heard the information that bothered him directly from operatives he trusted totally. Thus, he had made up his mind early on to verify their veracity. It was time to see just what his country’s wealth had been purchasing, and also make certain that the larger plan he had supported would in fact bloom to fruition.
They paused at a large metal door that looked to be solid black steel. It was framed on the top and sides by additional bands of reinforced steel. The door itself contained a small, barred window at eye level. However, it too was protected by a sheet of steel that was behind the bars and could only be opened from the inside. The ominous silence, broken only by the occasional sound of water droplets, was unnerving to say the least. His Majesty was surprised to discover that even this far beneath the surface of the Earth, even a King’s normally calm and composed nerves had the undesirable tendency to fray easily.
One of the guards eased into position alongside the large, heavily reinforced door while the other produced an electronic keycard. The larger man, partially blocking Gyilto’s view, proceeded to insert the thin device into an access port next to the door’s entry keypad. Amongst the silence and intermittent drips, he heard the guard pecking in a quick set of numbers. There was an electronic buzzing noise followed instantly by a loud, mechanical clunk that echoed throughout the corridor as the door’s internal locking system released. Turning slightly, the guard smiled malevolently. “You may enter with caution,” he instructed sternly. “We will wait for you here. But be aware, if you possess weaponry of any kind you will die before you can use it.”
Gyilto eyed the sharp-featured man warily. “I assure you, I am unarmed,” he snapped nervously. “Your people did have more than three hours to search me, after all.”
“We are simply warning you, in case you carry weapons that cannot be scanned,” the second man offered in response. “Those who oppose the Brotherhood instantly regret their choice. We have not survived nearly five decades by tolerating betrayal.” His colleague pulled the huge metal door open and waved Gyilto forward.
The entrance led into a huge, cavernous room with a ceiling that stretched so far above that the King could not even see it. He moved cautiously forward through subdued lighting, down a walkway neatly splitting two lengthy sections filled with chairs. There seemed to be hundreds of seats, the vast majority of which appeared to be occupied by people whose soft, whispering chatter completely shattered the earlier silence that had threatened to unnerve him out in the corridor. At the far end of the massive underground hideaway was a large wooden podium sitting atop a large stage. Directly to its left was a simple, rectangular wooden table with a thoroughly polished surface. Behind it sat three people wearing dark robes… two of them were male. Gyilto instinctively ignored the audience – it was the Triumvirate, the trio onstage he journeyed to meet.
“Welcome, your Majesty,” said one of the men rather agreeably as all three rose to greet him. His voice was dark and grating and seemed to lack emotion of any kind. “My name is Hobak.” He waved graciously toward what seemed to be the only remaining empty chair in the room and smiled more than a little malevolently. “Please… have a seat. We have much to discuss on this particular day.”
Gyilto could no longer contain his curiosity. “Everything begins soon, then?” he prompted, turning toward his assigned seat. For the first time his eyes caught a few faces from the audience and what he saw there froze him completely in his tracks. There were some occasional variations in hair style and eye color, and yet virtually every face in the audience bore a striking resemblance to one of the three people currently standing on the stage. Almost all of them, in fact, were a perfect match with one of the three Triumvirate leaders.
“How?” he gasped with astonishment, trailing off in shock as he studied the audience members’ startling similarities. “How did you…?” He tried again to ask the question and failed.
“Part of the operation your government has been funding is a cloning operation,” smirked Hobak, revealing that he could indeed show at least traces of positive emotion. “We three are perfect, so we procreate by cloning.”
“To answer your question, the end begins soon.” The attractive female’s sudden smile was just as shark-like as her colleague’s. “I am Valiana, and seated next to me is Durgon, the third member of our Triumvirate.”
Swallowing hard, Gyilto turned to look at the female seated directly to his left. Her hair was a dusty brownish-red and cropped short, but other than that she appeared to be an identical copy of Valiana. The man seated to his right looked exactly like Durgon wearing a black uniform instead of robes. Everyone surrounding him indeed appeared to be a clone created from one of the three people seated in front of him. The entire matter was extremely unsettling, to say the least. “Where did all of these… clones come from?” he asked with a growing inquisitiveness. “I only saw one corridor leading out of the waiting area, near the elevator shaft.”
“You passed by many other corridors on your way here, my King,” stated Durgon firmly. “Those who serve this far below the surface were simply hidden from you. We use holographic projectors to cover entrances to the other key areas of this level with the image of solid rock. Any enemy who manages to gain access to this complex is thereby guided directly into a deadly trap, although we have yet to make use of it.”
“We were understandably puzzled when you asked to meet with us, your Majesty,” continued Hobak. “You have never asked to do so before, and we have always worked hard to insure that our reputation is a formidable one. Most who ask too many questions about our Brotherhood and this Triumvirate in particular, eventually end up… missing.”
“You have done much for my small, beleaguered country,” countered Gyilto immediately, fighting back both his fear of the Brotherhood and a sudden, instinctual urge to panic. “If the world is to end today, I would know specifically who brought about its destruction. I must insure for the sake of my people that you will adhere to our agreement and protect them from harm.”
“You should know that your request to meet with us was initially turned down,” Valiana observed with a smirk. Her long, dark hair, unrestrained, fell in dark, curvy waves behind her head and across her shoulders. “We are curious as to why you would risk so much by persisting.”
&n
bsp; Shrugging his shoulders indifferently, Gyilto eyed them a bit more confidently. “You have admittedly done much for my small country over the years,” he admitted to them. “You have contributed significantly more than the meager assistance sparingly provided to us by any other governing body on this wretched planet. Even so, before I turn over my final payment – five thousand kilos of gold – it seemed logical to meet the leaders of the Brotherhood and find out more about the people who were about to orchestrate the destruction of Earth as we know it.”
The light within the massive cavern was noticeably dimmed, and only a faint glow from somewhere below lit the faces of the Triumvirate in a hellish glow. Chuckling with mild amusement, Hobak studied the lined face of Drik Gyilto carefully. “During all of your efforts to raise your nation into a respected class, what has been your greatest obstacle?” he asked curiously, observing Gyilto intently in order to better gauge his reaction.
“The West,” growled Gyilto after pondering the matter for a moment. “The United States, in particular. They are so well established and so economically powerful that a small country like mine, with limited resources and a small population, has no chance for anything other than long-term mediocrity. I am sick of sending delegates to the U.N. for endless negotiations about trivial matters that lead nowhere.”
“Indeed, the power of the West is the single most important factor that must change,” agreed Durgon with a sharp nod of his head. He was tall, broad-shouldered and blonde. Even from a seated position he towered over the smaller form of the female seated next to him. “After Earth’s two World Wars, the West took advantage of its victories and gained too much strength and influence. Together with their allies in Europe, they have been pinning everyone else down politically and dictating the direction of global markets for far too long.”
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