Irrefutable Proof: Mars Origin "I" Series Book II (28 page)

Chapter
Fifty-Nine

Professor
Abelson believed that there was some ancient symbol used as a marker to
designate where codes stopped and started in the Voynich Manuscript. She had
written that the language of the book appears to be an ancient language, but
not any of the European languages. She did think, however, that ancient
European languages were derived from the language in the book.

Well,
if the book was from the Ancients, then that certainly would be true. They
would have come with a language. And to follow along with her logic, that language
would be the one in the Voynich Manuscript. Then, she reasoned, other languages
such as Sumerian cuneiform, Egyptian hieroglyphs, Ge’ez, Sanskrit, and more
came from it.

She
also said that it could not be a Vigènere or Caesar cipher because you don’t
have an alphabet base in order to do a shift. Can’t go three letters down an
alphabet you don’t know. In fact, she dismissed totally it being a cipher. She
said it was a code. And there was a key. Not that that helped me much.

Where
would I find a key?

I
glanced over at the book that I wrote. The one in which I said I would provide
proof of our migration. I did have the original AHM manuscripts, but would that
be enough?

I
flipped through the pages of my book. All the things I figured out from the AHM
manuscripts. All the things I had
purportedly
figured out, because I
still couldn’t prove any of it. All the things that I wrote in my book that I vowed
I would show proof of. The Ancients’ laboratory on Madagascar. How they used iridium
to manufacture an object that could be hurled through space and change the
climate on Earth.

I
turned the page and saw the picture of the Nazca Plains in Peru.
The symbols used were written to show the Ancients, who were not part of the
chosen people, where they could find the Saboteurs. So they could find their
people. I traced my finger over the picture of the spider.

There
were straight lines, and birds, lizards, monkeys and snakes.

Snakes
. . .

Those
same symbols were found at Göbekli Tepe, in caves in Sumer, and on the walls of
the Mithraeum I saw at Yale.

The
symbols that they used, I believed, and that I had demonstrated in my latest
book, were what was used to direct late comers from Mars. Or, those that had
been cast out among the stars to die, in case they ever made it back.

Those
were the symbols . .  .

“Oh,
my God.” I stood up and had to steady myself. When the light-headedness from my
realization passed, I grabbed my purse and the keys to my car. I needed books.
Lots of books.

I
think I just figured out the key to decipher the Voynich Manuscript.

Chapter Sixty

Senator
Bruce Cook (R) of California was on the Commerce, Science, and Transportation
Senate Committee. He was also the Chair on the Subcommittee in Science and
Space.

T
he Subcommittee had responsibility
for science, technology research and development; as well as civilian
aeronautical and space science and policy. The committee also had oversight of
the National Science Foundation, and the National Aeronautics and Space
Administration.

Because Senator Cook chaired the committee, although he had no
background in science, he thought that made him an expert.

“I
followed your guys from Dr. Justin Dickerson’s house. The NRO guy and USAF
officer,” Robert Kevron said to Bruce Cook. “I got curious when I saw them. I
had just got back from a meeting at the Pentagon about NASA’s interest in
Dickerson.” Kevron leaned forward in his chair, looking squarely at the man
sitting across the desk from him. “I’m assuming now you have a shared interest
in her?” Kevron asked.

They
were sitting in Senator Cook’s home office in One America Plaza, the tallest
building in San Diego. Cook’s office was covered in dark wood, and decorated
with dark rich colors. He sat in a burgundy leather tufted chair, behind an
ornate mahogany stained desk.

Robert
Kevron got up from his seat and walked over and stood in front of the long wall
of windows. He stared out across the shoreline at the boats moving along the
Pacific.

 “It
is part of my job as the Subcommittee Chair. Dr. Dickerson had some information
in her book that she probably shouldn’t know. And there’s more going on over
there at NASA that she definitely has to keep her nose out of.”

 Bruce
Cook sat behind his massive desk. He was tall, at least 6’2”, and lean, with
broad shoulders. His hair was almost completely white except for the brown
tinge around his hairline. He wore his hair combed back off of a chiseled face that
housed pock marks, evidencing past problems with acne. Cook was a
multimillionaire, and he was also the Chairman of the Bilderberg Group.

Kevron
ran his hand over his buzz-cut, gray hair, wishing he was back home fishing. Those
two guys that went to Justin Dickerson’s house were a scare tactic, he was
sure. But, he learned, they had found out nothing from her.

 “Yeah,”
Kevron said. “Like I told you, Jack Hughes, Air Force guy that works at the
Pentagon, was a bit suspicious of her, not quite sure why. He called me back,
though, after he got to know her, and said he thought she was okay. But I
stayed on it because the Pentagon showed some interest.”

 “Kevron,
I’m going to need you to stand down on this one. I’ll deal with the Pentagon,
this little problem, and her from here on out. I’ve had my people get me
updated on what she’s being doing. Quite odd, if you ask me. She’s visiting
islands in the Indian Ocean, going to Italy for a conference on an undecipherable
book.”

“She
is an archaeologist,” Kevron said.

“She’s
an archaeologist that knows about a nuclear reaction on the surface of Mars. And
while a lot of people know there’s radioactive material up there, their
assumption is that it came as a result of the absence of a magnetic field. They
don’t know about the people that had been up there.”

Kevron
raised an eyebrow. “The
people
who had been up there?”

“Some
things are above your pay grade, Mr. Kevron. Especially since now your pay
grade is a check that we mail to you once a month.

 “She
sent out several letters to members of the Group, requesting information,” Cook
said. “Asking for a meeting. Perfect cover for me to get her in here and find
out what she knows. We’ve got something going on at NASA and she is getting her
information from somewhere. She just might be a threat to our agenda.”

“Maybe
she is. Maybe she’s not. You ask my opinion, she’s no threat. Plenty of people
wrote books about the things she did.”

“Didn’t
ask your opinion,” Cook said. He pushed his chair from the desk. “People can innocently
and inadvertently be a threat. Not for you to determine who they are anymore.”

“She’s
in her fifties,” Kevron said. “A little overweight. Teaches at college up in
Cleveland.”

“Like
I said, I’ll invite her in response to the letters my Group received from her. For
some reason she has an interest not only in Mars, but what my group is trying
to do.”

“What
is it your group is trying to do?” Kevron asked.

Cook
laughed harshly. “Mr. Kevron,” Cook said, tilting his head, his blue eyes
beaming. Apparently holding back something that couldn’t be shared.

Kevron
let out a chuckle of his own. “Is it one of those things that if you told me,
you’d have to kill me?”

“No.
We’d kill your family, and then make you work for us doing our little dirty
work.”

“Don’t
have any family. And I don’t worry about too many things, or too many people,
Mr. Cook,” Kevron said, his voice keeping a schooled calmness. “The best course
of action is to find out what Justin Dickerson knows, and then use that little
line of yours on her. As you said, I’m off of this. I’m back to Alabama
so I can pick up my check.”

Chapter
Sixty-One

I found every book I had on my bookshelf that had to do with
ancient symbols, all the new ones I had bought to learn Ge’ez and every book I
had to translate Hebrew, Aramaic and Latin. Then I went to the library and
borrowed all the ones I could find and whatever they had on South American
plants now and back as far in history as they could go. I didn’t find much, so
I was going to have to scour the Internet and find more. Then I went to the Barnes
and Noble on Euclid and Half-Price Bookstore out at Golden Gate Plaza
and searched their shelves.

I was almost sure that I had figured out the key to decoding
the Voynich Manuscript.

The key was the AHM manuscripts and the ancient symbols spread
out across our world.

Professor Abelson was right, it wasn’t a cipher. It was a
code.

Now I would have irrefutable proof.

I had a car full of books when I got back home. I yelled at
Mase to come help me.

“I figured it out, Mase,” I said when he came out and grabbed
a bag of books. “I think that I have figured out how to decode the Voynich
Manuscripts.”

He stopped mid-lift.

“Justin.” He looked at me.

I nodded my head.

“You know what it says? In that book? You know what’s written
in there?”

“Not yet. But I think I have the code to decipher it. It’s the
AHM manuscript. You know how it was written in three different languages?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the code. When the languages change, it correlates to
a symbol. Symbols that our ancestors from Mars marked on the ground so people could
see them from the air. They left those same marking on their temples, and in
caves. They left the ‘key’ to figure it out everywhere.”

“You mean the monkeys and spiders in wherever that place is in
Peru?”

“Nazca.”

“So what? We have to go to Peru and read the symbols?”

“No. Get the books. Let’s go in the house.”

This time I wasn’t going straight to my study, lock myself in
and become Howard Hughes. Instead I called everybody and told them to come help
me. I called all seven of my siblings and put them on standby. And I called
Addie. She said she was on her way. She’d talk to Jack, but she knew he had to
work.

But not too long after I hung up from her, Jack called and
said he knew a couple cryptologists if I needed help. I laughed, and told him I
thought I would be okay, but until I figured it out, “Mums the word.”

He said, “That’s my job. Keeping secrets.”

He also told me that at first he was very concerned about what
I was trying to do. That he thought it might breach the protocols of national
security. But after he learned more, he said, I convinced him that the world
needed to know its history and how knowing couldn’t hurt anyone. He said I made
a believer out of him. Then he said, “Now go make a believer out of everyone
else.”

So, that’s what I prepared to do. I gathered up all my tools. Sean’s
program that I used to translate the AHM Manuscripts, that searched and replaced
words as I translated, wasn’t going to work here because the same words weren’t
present throughout. Some appeared in certain places, or uniquely on a few
pages. There were very few words repeated. And the words that appeared next to
illustrations weren’t repeated.

At least they didn’t appear to be.

There were captions by the pictures of the plants. I had A
good way to decode was to figure out the proper nouns. The plant names worked
so I had Claire and Mase go through and copy down, the best they could, the letters
that I thought was the name of every plant.

Some of the longer sections of the manuscript were broken into
paragraphs that had symbols at the beginning of them. I knew now that each symbol
signified a change. The change was related to a change in language in the AHM Manuscripts.
I knew from the hundred times I had read over it that there were only about 30
different glyphs, or individual marks.

What others had noticed, but no one knew what to do with, was
the distribution of letters within words. There were some characters that occurred
only at the beginning of a word, some at the end, and some in the middle. Those
characters were the names of the spider, monkey, lizard and other symbols on
all of the structures around the world that I had believed meant something to
the Ancients.  And those symbols told me which language.

So the small symbols at the beginning of the line told me to
change the language. The characters told me what language, another one told me
to stop that language. If there was no symbol at the beginning of the line, I
kept the same language.

But, like before, I spent every waking moment working on the
translation, and every minute of sleep dreaming about the translations. I even
took a sabbatical so I could work on them.

“Nothing is hidden to the trained eye.” My mentor, Dr.
Margulies’ words got me through.

When I had translated the AHM Manuscripts, it took me three
months. Even with all the help, this translation was a chore. I worked so hard.
Sometimes it seemed as if the code wasn’t working, but then I found it was only
because I had done something wrong.

It took me eight months and nineteen days to decode the
Voynich Manuscript. I gained ten pounds, and I really believed my hair had
gotten thinner. It definitely had gotten grayer. But I did it. I decoded
something that no one else could.

I felt so good.

Addie had come from Baltimore and we were all at my house. My
seven brothers and sisters, Addie, Jack, me and Mase, and Nikhil Chandra.

I finally decided I like him. He turned out to be a good guy.

I couldn’t believe what had transpired over the past year, and
I shared that with my family. I swore everyone to secrecy and made them promise
that if I turned up missing they would all come and look for me.

We were in the backyard having a bar-b-que. Mase came from
inside the house where he had been making his special sauce.

“You got a certified letter.”

“Yeah, who from?”

“I don’t know. It’s postmarked San Diego, California.”

I opened the letter, read it, and had to go and sit down.

“What is it?” Greg came over and sat next to me.

“It’s a letter for me to come to San Diego and meet with the
Chairman of the Bilderberg Group.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he said. “Let me see that letter.”