The Feathered Serpent by James Alexander.
Category: Fiction
Paperback: 460 pages
Language: English
ISBN: 1434374459

CHAPTER ONE

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Henry Williams, and I’m a semi-retired anthropologist. When I’m invited, I lecture around the country as a visiting professor. Yesterday, I arrived home after completing a most extraordinary expedition, the experiences of which I have to share with you.

As I sit here at my desk, I find myself staring at a crystal skull that I’ve just purchased from a local New Agent shop in town. It’s completely fake, of course, not pure crystal, but it serves to remind me the most unique experiences that I’ve encountered over the past six months. Why a crystal skull? The answer to that question lies in th my recent trip to Central America, Mexico to be precise. The expedition was at first unplanned, but through an odd and mysterious communication from a collector of rare objects, I found myself embroiled in a mystifying tale. A tale that at first I found hard to believe, but as I was drawn deeper into it, I concluded from the experience that all was not as it seemed about Mankind’s prehistoric past. As a scientist, I found that all the evidence that I have uncovered so far has proved to be factual and provable. Yet, it is quite unnerving for me, and has left me open to ridicule from the scientific community. No other scientist on the planet would have believed me, except from my assistant Piers Anderson, who was with me at the time. The tale, if that is indeed the best term for it, tells of how our ancient ancestors were in a state of advancement that far exceeds our current knowledge. They were so advanced in the disciplines of the sciences, arts, philosophy and medicine, far in excess of what we arrogantly think we possess today.

Unbelievable. Well, that’s what I thought at first. It wasn’t until I found myself in a position where my own life endangered, that I really sat up and took notice.

I used to live with my beloved wife Georgina, in a suburb of an old run down market town on the edge of Dartmoore, in the country of Devon, England. That is, until she was murdered. It wasn’t until I was away in Mexico that I learned of her death, but it was the way that I found out that proved to be most mysterious. I was enlightened by paranormal means, and by paranormal means I refer to the visit to the other side of life, that is death itself. Now that’s a freaky expereince and not one to be recommended until it’s your time.

Georgina and I had been married for some thirty years, and like most married couples, we had endured the trials and tribulations of life and everything it threw at us, but none more so than when we lost own only daughter Fiona and her husband David, in a mysterious car crash two years ago. I say it was mysterious, because nobody was ever caught for causing the crash, a crash that shouldn’t have happened, and I know that the car was mechanically sound. What made it worst was the fact that they were driving our car at the time. We never came to terms with their deaths.

They both died from the fatal injuries they’d received, and since then we had tried to get back to normality, with moderate success. I devoted my life to my work, while Georgine devoted hers to the home. Don’t get me wrong. She was no drudge or downtrodden woman. It was just her way of trying to exorcise the pain that all mothers feel when their offspring die first. I tend to hide my feeling and bury them deep. Things were never the same between us and it was a hard struggle, but we coped. We chose instead to lavish our love and affections on our two grandchildren, six year old Marcus and four year old Rebecca. Our love remained between ourselves, but it was distant.

I mentioned earlier about my friend and colleague whom I must admit, I rely upon entirely, purely because he is much younger than me. Piers Anderson. This man holds a doctorate in anthropology and archaeology and specialises in the study of the civilizations of Ancient Egypt and Northern Europe, whereas I tend to concentrate more on the other side of the pond. The American continent. Native American history to be more accurate.

Fortunately I’m wealthy enough that I have no need to rely upon University resources, and through a friend of mine at the local University, I’m lucky enough to hire a room and laboratory facilities. The package comes complete with an indispensable secretary.

So here’s the story. Six months ago, I was contacted by a very mysterious and shady character whose name is Francis Mortimer. This man is a collector of rare and ancient artefacts and antiques. It is his sole mission in life to collect and keep , purely from the pleasure of owning and gazing upon beautiful and ancient things. His resources appeared to be limitless, as did he desire to possess and he would stoop to any measure to get what he wanted."