Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D.

Copyright © 2015

Glenn Van Dyke

and Renee Van Dyke

All Rights reserved.

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© 2015 U.S. Copyrights Office

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors’ imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the copyright owners.

Cover by Claudio Aboy

Exclusively made for

2287 A.D.

Thanks Claudio, you brought our vision to life!”

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Edited by

CAFÉ HOUSE

WE WOULD LIKE TO THANK:

Zechariah Sitchin

The Ancient Aliens Show

Jason Martel

Erich von Daniken,

Richard C. Hoagland

George Noory

Linda Moulton Howe

Georgio A. Tsoukalos

Gerald Clark …

and so many others for your dedication

Thank you for brightening the darkness.

Don’t forget to claim your

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Collector’s Covers at:

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Their story continues…

*Very important note for readers*:
While 2287 is a 
fictional
 story, the ancient alien 'uplift' version of mankind’s creation seems to have offended some readers’ religious beliefs, which was never our intent. So, due to the number of hateful emails we've received, we decided to include the following warning:

If you have religious beliefs that will be offended by an alien 'UPLIFT' story, please do 
NOT
 buy this book.

As is typical of many mainstream sci-fi novels, 2287 is a mature read and contains material not appropriate for children.

To put it simply, we want 2287 A.D. to be a fun, FICTIONAL, and entertaining story for the open-minded, mature reader.

Sinus Iridium –

Bay of Rainbows -

Moon

(Day of the attack)

“Do you hear that?” said Erich Guerling, head of the archeological team. The sound drew him to the opalescent glass shards of Sinus Iridium’s ragged dome, high above. The wall of fragmented glass was vibrating, creating seismic waves that manifested themselves as a soft melodic ringing inside his environmental protection suit.

Following his gaze, Erich’s two assistants watched the large two-hundred meter tall section of the wall’s latticework totter back and forth. Instinctively, they dropped the handles of the hoversleds carrying their equipment and backed up. As he saw a few of the precariously attached shards beginning to fall, Erich yelled to his team, “Run!”

The three of them turned, bounding away as quickly as their suits would allow. Behind them, the top of the massive structure gave way, surreally falling to the ground in slow motion. As they felt it beginning to crash down behind them, they all took a last flying leap out of harm’s way.

They were soon lost inside a large cloud of gray lunar dust. “Everyone all right?” called Erich, lying there panting.

“I won’t need to shave tomorrow if that’s what you mean. That was way too close,” answered James as he rolled over onto his hands and knees.

“If we had arrived ten seconds earlier we’d be underneath all that mess,” said James’ new wife, Kathryn. “We were lucky.”

Rising, their cumbersome suits making the simple act of getting to their feet a matter of great effort, they saw that the edge of the ancient monolithic structure had fallen just ten meters behind them. In silence, through the heavy haze, they made out the details of the debris field. A tangled web of beams and shards of glass were strewn about, a dozen stories tall.

“You’re right, Kat. We were lucky,” said Erich in agreement. “Damn lucky.”

As they strained to see through the slowly clearing dust to where the scaffolding had fallen from, a dark, menacing, heavily armored vessel was just appearing. It came over the top of the decayed wall of the dome. The vessel’s spinning arrays and dishes were actively scanning, its missile bay doors open, its gun turrets raised. She was ready for combat.

Obscured by the cloud of dust, the three of them stood in silence, not wanting to draw attention to themselves as the craft flew by overhead. Behind it were three more, much larger and boxier carrier vessels.

After the ships passed, the team hightailed it back to the skimmer that lay waiting, ninety meters away. Daring to use the skimmer’s transmitter, Erich broadcasted, “Hoagland Cen-Comm, this is Erich Guerling from Outpost 119. There are four ships in the Bay of Rainbows. They just passed over us at the Looking Glass dig site. They’re headed in your direction. Do you copy?”

“This is Hoagland Central Communications. That is a copy. We are tracking them on radar. Please stand by.”

“We should go back to the Outpost—get to the Noory!” said Kathryn, her concern evident.

“Agreed. There’s no point in waiting here,” affirmed Erich. “We need to get back to Cen-Comm.” To himself, his gut churning he thought,
I just hope it’s still there when we arrive.

Richard C. Hoagland

Central Communications -

United Nations Headquarters -

Moon

Responding to the alarm sounding throughout the expansive complex, President Tomlinson, a dark-haired young man of ninety-six, arrived with his security detail in tow.

“Sir, safety protocols dictate that you should go to the bunker with the other dignitaries,” said Commander Adams.

Ignoring the commander, Secretary-General of the United Nations and President of the United States, President Tomlinson requested a status update.

“The team from Outpost 119 called in a visual confirmation a few minutes ago as the ships passed over the Looking Glass site. Radar signatures have identified them as being Enlil’s. One destroyer, three carriers. At their current speed, they will be here in five minutes. Sir, you really should head to the bunker,” insisted Adams.

Resigned to his fate, President Tomlinson gave a heavy sigh. “It’s too late. I knew this day was coming. I think we all did. Seal the domes. Lock everything down.” To himself he thought,
For all the good it will do.

He continued, “Put me through to Admiral Steven Sherrah at the Challenger Deep Sea Base, high security mode.”

Challenger Deep Sea Base
–

Earth

“Admiral, I have President Tomlinson on a secure line. He is contacting us from Hoagland Central Communications at the UN Headquarters. He says they are under attack!”

“Put us on full alert—and put him through,” said Steven. He turned to his pilot. “Robbie, take us back to Sea Base.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Heading back to base.”

In the brief moment it took for them to be connected, Robbie spun the Dolphin Transport around and punched the thrusters, heading home. Steven’s eyes followed the running lights of harvester-bots as they farmed the sea-gardens, his mind anxious with anticipation at what the president was going to say.

On the console between them, the president’s holo appeared. “Admiral Sherrah, it’s nice to speak with you again, though I wish it were under different circumstances.”

“As do I, Mr. President. What’s your situation?”

“It couldn’t be worse. There is much to tell you—and no time. A few weeks ago, when I gave you command of Sea Base, my staff began preparing a brief to bring you up to speed. I was going to give you the file at Columbus’ christening next month where we could discuss it privately. I’m sorry that I won’t be there to guide you. One of the facets in particular is going to be quite awkward for you, especially given your current personal circumstances. But, I have faith in you. My staff is collating the files, from my computer, as we speak and will start the upload to you shortly. The file is far from complete, but at least it will provide you with the basics of what you need to know.”

From off-screen, Steven heard someone advising the president. “Sir, Enlil’s ships have breached the western perimeter. Shields are down in that sector. All defensive arrays have been destroyed. ETA to Cen-Comm—two minutes. Sir, do you want me to initiate Project Terminus?”

Without hesitation, he shook his head. “No. Upload everything regarding the project to Sea Base!”

“Uploading,” responded the off-screen voice.

Turning to Steven, the president continued, “Project Terminus is a Hail Mary, a last resort. It would kill most life on Earth. Simulations are inconclusive as to whether Sea Base would survive. The result of escalating earthquakes, tidal changes, tsunamis—it would be a matter of luck. So again, it is a last resort. I pray that you will never need to use it. The file will explain the specifics of what Project Terminus is—and how to activate it.

“This next part will be hard for you to accept, but you need to know that the perpetrator behind this attack is an entity known as Enlil. His world is in the Sirius star system. Near as we can tell, the planets within their system are cloaked and not visible from our vantage point here on Earth. Apparently, the planets can only be seen from within their own solar system. So admittedly, we don’t know much. We’ve always known there was something there. We’ve been monitoring gravitational perturbations since before I was born. And the little bit of solid information that we believe to be accurate is because, well…” The president coughed, an involuntary stall of the words he knew he must speak. “We know because we’ve had a working arrangement with him.”

“By him? You mean, Enlil? From the ancient Sumerian texts?”

“Yes. One and the same,” confirmed the president. “I’m well aware of your interest in the ancient Sumerian writings and the translations done by Zechariah Sitchin. I’ve been told that you are quite the scholar, having taken great interest in his theories.”

“Yes, sir—but—” said Steven.

“I know how it sounds, Admiral, but you should know that Zechariah’s theories are far more accurate than you realize. As for Enlil, yes—he exists. Even now, thousands of years later, he is alive and well. And since you are familiar with Enlil’s historical background, then you know that he’s not going to stop with us. When he’s done here, he’ll head to Earth. He wants all of us dead. I must advise you, do not take Enlil on directly. Columbus is a great ship, but she wouldn’t stand a chance against his fleet or even this smaller contingent of warships that we are tracking on radar. I want you to hide. Stay alive. Someday, god willing, you’ll get your chance.”

The president wiped his tearing eyes. With a sigh he collected his thoughts before again meeting Steven’s gaze. “Steven, I need a favor. My wife and son are in Rome. If you could…”

“I understand, sir. You have my word. We’ll find them and bring them here.”

The president gave a thankful sigh.

A series of explosions resonated, drawing the president’s attention to the scene unfolding behind him. Turning around, the president watched the nearby hydroponics dome explode. “My god!”

On the holo, behind the president’s shoulders, Steven could see people flailing—floating—amid a sea of green shrubs and tangled debris. Within seconds, they were stilled, carried off the screen as if by invisible strings.

The president quickly whipped around to face Steven, worry and concern etched on his face. “Steven, you need to go to…”

The line went silent.

Steven swallowed past the lump in his throat. The president’s worried face and frantically spoken words alluded to something direly important for Steven to know. Deep inside a small flame awakened. Its warmth called to him. He could sense something—someone—far away. It touched his heart and opened a void of longing and desire that he had never known before.