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Ordo Endo The Order of the End! von Graham, S. L. (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 31.08.2016
  • Verlag: BookBaby
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Ordo Endo

If you hunger and thirst for truth, or at least its leading edge, and are intrepid to dare go where few venture, there may rest just beyond your reach a manifest destiny far above and beneath what a simple understanding might render. If you sense 'tis so, this trilogy of novels might very well be just right for you. Or if you merely suspect the nightly news may be giving you a spin-dried, distorted version of the truth, and that there are stories too important and drastic to be unfolded to the general milieu, this is certainly for you. A fresh, young Duke in London finds himself suddenly thrust into a vortex of an impossible nature, surrounded by these world 'movers and shakers', their unfathomable plans made suddenly quite real and in fact, impending. He's pressed to decide who he is and what he believes, and must act decisively upon this self-discovery and somehow survive it, as these present-to-near-future events loom menacingly upon the darkening horizon. And however wrapped in fictitious characters, the background information is actually factual and most certainly searchable. Future events no one can depict with any ironclad certainty. And I'd never claim to be a prophet. Nevertheless, by their actions of the past and operations in the present, the modus operandi within the dark conclaves of these powerful men have conscripted a set of possible scenarios. From these possibilities, certain likely scenarios are emerging. It is my goal, while presenting an engaging, fictional story, to assist the diligent reader in preparing circumstantially, physically and moreover, spiritually, as a bulwark against the maelstrom breaking, even now, upon us all.

Produktinformationen

    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: none
    Seitenzahl: 468
    Erscheinungsdatum: 31.08.2016
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9781483580319
    Verlag: BookBaby
    Größe: 518kBytes
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Ordo Endo

Chapter One: Long Live the Duke A morning sun broke, shooting shafts of light through the still grayness. "'Twas Brillig, Rodney!" "Aye, 'tis Cap'n," Rodney nodded, guiding the Rolls out of the cobbled driveway of the four-acre, gentile country estate and toward the inner city. "All mimsy in the wabe, or some-such nonsense." "Beware, the Jabberwocky!" Rodney responded in kind with a grin. "So you're familiar with that poem then?" "Yes sire," Rodney answered over his shoulder, "We read it in secondary school and I still remember snippets of it." "A fun read, I must say. And I always thought I'd like it if a 'tumtum tree' were real. Sounds like the fruit of it would be tum-yummy." "Nursery rhymes for adults, I call it, sire." "Indeed, Rodney. Quite brilliant actually, using nonsensical words to create a sense of a hyperextended world. You kind of know what he's talking about." "Ah, yes sire. Surreal. There's art in that isn't there?" "Indeed. Surreal. Very good, Rodney. Sort of a subterfuge of communication. Like what I'm often required to do, but in reverse." "How so, sire?" "Well, I speak sensible words to appear to be saying something. But it's designed to only appear to make sense. It's called diplomacy. Creating impressions of a desired bent so as to sway without saying too much, you see." "Ah... yes, I see your point. Very good, sire." "No, actually, it isn't Rodney. Not at all." "Oh. Sorry to hear that, sire." "And I'm sorry to have said it. But there-my moment of honest confession for the day!" "Fredrick eased back into his plush seat, stretched, yawned and nodded toward the burly man across from him. "Morning, John." "Morning sire," John greeted, returning the nod as Fredrick picked up and leafed through some back pages of yesterday's paper. He'd taken to some rather fanciful rumination of late, and as the carriage rolled toward the inner city, he felt a creativity unfolding, so he reached into a compartment, taking out a notebook: "Ben had struck for the ninth time," he wrote, "Good old Ben, slipping surreptitiously back into dumbstruck silence, leaving the city to carry on as though nothing had happened. Like a sentinel over all the silent passing of life, striking out his tally, his toll... a Robin Hood of sorts, stealing from the 'haves' their precious moments, leaving only traces resounding into the vaporous, empty air..." In fact, the Duke had taken to writing his memoirs, and had developed a habit of thought for waxing eloquent. He pulled out a pen to capture the inspiration, scribbling down his soliloquy in the margins of the paper, adding to this: "Taking from all living souls and giving only to the yawning, limpid air, Ben had struck his exacting toll over the city, and predictably no one alive could stop him from striking again and again. Would there be a tenth? Sure as the day and life itself." He put down his paper, gazing out upon the verdant lawns glistening fresh sunlight in the late, nine o'clock dew, over the yawning, gentry's estates rolling "brillig" through the winding countryside, then morphing into subdivisions of mini-estates, their supporters having whisked off to earn their spindly day's keep. "A day unlike any other," Duke Fredrick said, as though lost in reflection, "A day as never has been, nor ever will be." "Yes sire," John agreed habitually. Agreement with his former employer had been the unexpressed part of his job to fulfill. As they drew into the heart of the city, the Duke returned to his habit of reading snatches from yesterday's newspaper back pages, his silent repose of reading, while the scurry of the London streets lay mute, insulated in the Rolls chamber. Against that near-silent backdro

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