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| "Any time throughout history" the professor began,"when there have been large numbers of reports of demonic possession or witch hunts like the Salem Witch Trials of 1692, what you actually have is a Foot~Hold situation. Are there such things as evil spirits? Of course there are. Does magic really exist? Of course it does, and you can bet that if Earthlings know about it, others in the Cosmos do as well. They will use the Spirit Realm, Magic, to discover, develop and augment their advanced technologies because paranormal deposits are natural resources just like any other. Malevolent and aggressive beings of extra terrestrial intelligence target Earth with whatever elements of combat they have in their arsenals. Earth must defend itself against these physical and metaphysical offensives. The entire Spanish Inquisition was, in reality, the inhabitants of Earth repelling the attacks of hostile Alien Invaders from Space." |
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| What you see here is the molecular structure of the Demon Virus. A genetically engineered infectious unit, a vector born contagion containing in its nucleus one or more evil spirits which are activated to be released once they are within 9 to 11 nanometers of a human soul. Such close proximity to one's ethereal essence is only achieved when the Demon Virus molecule is pumped through the victim's heart, actually coming into contact with the ventricle wall as it passes through a chamber. The Demon Virus was first synthesized by Dogmorfar the Annihilator, a giant among the great thinkers of the Zulderons, a race of Hornbacks indigenous to the ringed planet Gargax, located in the Balbour System 313 light years from Aldebaran. The formula for the only known cure for Demon Virus is found among hieroglyphics in the Ancient Temple of Ramses the Great. The elixir components are arranged into effective working order by cross referencing the exponential immune coefficient with the stablization dimensions of three specific cover stones located in the Giza Necropolis. The chemical formula is accompanied by a chant, or incantation, which invokes the power of Anubis in the exorcism of the demons from the afflicted individual's body. |
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| Dr. Blog has directed one of her clandestine contacts, The Strong Man, to bring Chamberlain to her secret Underground Resistance Movement Laboratory hidden in a network of tunnels beneath the Daily Council, a newspaper in Washington, D.C. Only one person at the Daily Counsel, an investigative journalism reporter named Giovanni Sampson, knows of Dr. Blog and her assistant, Terabyte, working undercover in their cloaked hideaway right underneath the thirteen story Daily Council newspaper building within a mile of the Dupont Circle Station. On the streets and in the Underground, Giovanni is known as The Strong Man. Of the 137 dedicated news hounds who work at the Daily Counsel, only The Strong Man knows about the old catacombs concealed beneath the foundation of the Daily Council headquarters building. Down below the first floor where the circulation desk is housed. Down below the basement where the printing presses rumble out their monotonous drone pouring print from their jowls like great, drooling dragons seven nights a week. Down into the subterranean alchemist's dungeon is where The Strong Man has to deliver Chamberlain. Chamberlain is wary, nervous, uncertain as he follows The Strong Man through a trap door behind the deafening roar of the main printing press and down through a labyrinth of convoluted passageways. Down through dark, dank, stale, rat infested corridors until at last, the claustrophobic and nearly panicked Chamberlain sees light and enters a cavernous room filled with test tubes, beakers, bubbling Erlenmeyer flasks, coiled glass tubing, Bunsen burners and computer terminals. Two story high book shelves wrap around the Lab's walls running over with cryptic volumes. The flagstones of the floor support long, heavy, oaken work tables covered in scrolls and charts and graphs and newspaper clippings. In the center of this great chamber hums what Chamberlain recognizes as a giant, Cray SuperComputer. A Legacy model, with 12~core 64~bit AMD Opteron 6000 series processor. Up to 192 per cabinet. Were they still in production? Chamberlin couldn't get his thoughts together. The stagnant air of the low, narrow shaft through which they had passed had his mind in a fog. While struggling to regain his faculties through a series of slow, deep breaths, Chamberlain suddenly finds himself face to face with Dr. Blog. A clanking noise from a far corner of the Lab. Chamberlain casts a quick glance and there, behind a wall of Laboratory equipment, skulks the tall, pale figure of her towering assistant, Terabyte; his fiery, orange hair so bright that at first Chamberlain thought him to be wearing a ball cap. "You look a bit overwrought, Chamberlain.", Dr. Blog said as she cast a cagey eye with a cocked brow over his disheveled figure. "I'll be alright in a minute," wheezed Chamberlain,"I just need some air, just let me breath a moment." "Don't like tight spaces, eh?" replied the professor as she handed Chamberlain a beaker containing a clear liquid. "Have some distilled water, it'll help settle your nerves." Chamberlain cautiously reached for the beaker and testing its contents with a noticeable sniff, began to sip slowly. The professor turned to The Strong Man,"Thanks, Sampson." she told him,"he'll be ok now. You may return to your snooping. When we're done here, I'll show him out the back way." The Strong Man nodded and disappeared into the shadowy passage through which he and Chamberlain had just stumbled. "The old abandoned subway tunnels." she assured Chamberlain. "A section of the Red Line that was never used. You'll find it roomier, not so constricting on your air." Chamberlain managed a wisp of a smile, but she could tell the idea wasn't necessarily a comfort to him. One darkened, enclosed space was as bad as another as far as Chamberlain was concerned. She waited till he had completely composed himself then tied together a long string of shocking facts around which he found it difficult to get his mind wrapped. |
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