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Son of Zog Copyright © 2016 by TS Caladan All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or book reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Edited by TS Caladan [BOOK 2 of a 3-PART SERIES] © Cover Art by TS Caladan Published by TWB Press ISBN: 978-1-944045-09-8

Table of Contents Preface 1. Death of Tray Caladan…………………..................……………………......…….……..p. 1 2. Birth of Sam Caladan……………………..................……………………......…………p. 12 3. Plan for a New Order of Violence.....................................................................................p. 22 4. Death of Mary Caladan……………………………..................………….......…….……p. 32 5. The New Recruit……………………………….................………………......…….…..p. 42 6. ‘War of the Roses’……………………………………................................……………p. 50 7. The Black Heart’s Question……………………...................………….....……………..p. 70 8. The Ultimate Question…………………………..................…………….......…….……p. 80 9. Secrets of Ancient Earth Exposed……..…………..................…….….......……..………p. 90 10. Prophecy of the Son of Zog…………………………....................…….......…….…….p. 110 11. A New Superman……………………………………..................………......…....……..p. 123 12. The Ultimate War……………..……………………................….………......…………p. 141 13. The Ultimate Answer………………………………….….......................………………p. 147 Ultilog..................................................p. 165 Son of Zog terms..............................................p. 166 Players in order of appearance............................................p. 167 About the Author More Science Fiction from TWB Press


By TS Caladan Preface AT THE END of the Beginning, a different world was created during what was called the Fifth Construct. This part of the Universe renewed, refreshed, rebooted and started again. The First Age of Atomics and the Second Age of a Continuum Game were wiped cleanly away from Citizens’ dream-memory. A Third Age was upon the Pinwheel Galaxy (no longer known as ‘Monopdonow’). Commercialism, in the sense of the accumulation of Tylars (latest dylar) and wealth, as well as cutthroat Big Business practices were no longer in play. Citizens established a Galactic Center which certainly was not the literal center, but a green star system that welcomed all those who were in need. Life forms from every star system were welcome to ‘take what they need.’ If your planet starved for food, life forms came to ‘the Center’ and loaded limitless assortments of healthy and nutritional edibles for the precise tastes of your civilization. If your culture starved for energy, representatives came to the Center and chose from vast arrays of electrical power packs to complete systems suited for your specific needs. If your world required technology and knowledge, you got it for FREE. If your planet or satellite colony was desperate for medical


attention, you received exactly what was required at the speed of light. The Center had special investigators or ‘police’ that inspected what was done with the technology, power, supplies, equipment, resources, data, etc. on various Citizens’ home worlds. Nothing was allowed to be sold as a part of a ‘Market System,’ black, white or grey. The only items not freely given out from ‘The Center of Abundance’ were knowledge, energy, power or technology that was easily converted to weaponry. If there was a hint of violent characters or destructive intentions among visitors with their ‘hands out,’ the Center had the right and refused service of the generous ‘gifts.’ The famous ‘Pan Movers,’ along with Binar (Trinar) technical associates, had branched out and maximized galactic teleportation to a fine art. Citizens procured just about anything their little hearts or ‘Centers’ desired. Pan’s amazing capabilities were such that anything instantly appeared, if properly ordered. It was quite common among Citizens’ parties, public gatherings or any normal situation where ‘something from Pan’ materialized in front of life forms precisely as directed. ‘Barter’ principles were also in place in the galaxy. Goods and services were simply traded for other goods and services, like in the (bad) old days that no one could remember. But all knowledge, technologies, devices or electrical power could still be used the wrong way or in a ‘dark’ and sinister way. Once planets had been ‘inspected’ by special investigators, “Zog knows what could happen?” It was not a perfect system. Could a few of the ‘police’ be in on unheard-of corruption? There was still greed, pain and some Citizens and yahoos suffered…but not that much. Wars were only small fayds that lasted a short time. Disputes were soon resolved. Post-conflicts often led to large


celebrations by both groups. (Atomics were inconceivable). The overall ‘feel’ or ‘vibration’ to the Fifth Construct was entirely different than anything that had come before in known Pinwheel History or other Continuums. Galactic History was sketchy to say the least. Seers to yahoos believed the dream world without question. The question of Reality itself will come into ‘question’ during the later stages of Architecture Built by the 5th Creator. Another inevitable disaster almost ‘must’ occur when the Cosmic Clock’s GST strikes 2100.00. Why? Why must it happen all over again? The answer was the same answer as: Why did one Big Universe affect a smaller one and vice versa? Four previous times in the ‘tapestry of time,’ our Collective Cosmos balanced on the precipice of nonexistence. Wave-patterns in space and life-cycles tended to repeat; they just did! The Fifth Go-Around, a virtual idyllic life in a stranger Pinwheel Galaxy, still had problems. The Devil was gone. Money was gone. The 5th Creator was not as busy anymore. Zog was only a blurred memory. There was no more talk of a New Zog or Neo Zog. Citizens’ collective consciousnesses only remembered the legendary Zog of old, the blue Being that, apparently, invisibly, truly saved the world. No one asked the questions: “Did ancient legends of Zog repeat in the next age? Were they the same, early past and recent past?” Tray Caladan was an older man now. He never fully understood what occurred after the Zog’s energy left him, had to leave him and worked with the New Builder. It was as if whatever was ‘Cal-El’ was totally gone and only a memory. Tray was a mere man and in love with Mary. Her new or old body did not matter. He loved the ‘one’ inside, her eternal Center. He no longer called his space base home a ‘Fortress.’ There was no need to be barricaded behind walls without the Order’s armies or


Peacekeepers gone amok or a Sardon in the galaxy. Tray and Mary were safe. A mysterious oddity baffled the artist. Why did only he and Mary have a slight memory of the Fourth Construct and no one else? The answer had to be because he was responsible, as NZ Cal-El, and helped reform a new universe or dream. Both he and his wife were one and both had stepped into each world. They bridged a reality and an unreality of a dream. Basically it was only the Caladans that knew what transpired before in the other universe of the ‘Continuums.’ As far as Larger Floors or Dimensions go, everything was different. The world down here was different therefore the Higher Realms were also immeasurably changed as well. The general peace was reflected ‘Upstairs.’ What Dark Lords of Chaos existed ‘up’ there, had been ground down to hardly anything. For the most part, everything was beautiful “above and below.” The remarkable fact remained that High Mystics and seers were extremely foggy about the past ‘Dreamtime’ and their crystal-recorders did not answer the important questions. Very few beings in the Pinwheel realized their own incredible History. Citizens had everything they could imagine, nearly. But answers, big answers to big questions, were the rage among Citizens. Pinwheel creatures were not under attack or fought the forces of evil anymore. There were no more mega-armies or Rangers. What replaced War, Media lies, N-rays and other negative influences? The answers were amazing learning in a universal, utopian age along with philosophic forums and debate on the ‘Great Questions.’ Scientists to ‘mystic’ seers, the Yin and the Yang, all joined in friendly debate along the Mainstream sectors. What originally created the Pinwheel Galaxy and the communities that inhabited it? What sparked Life here? What did the gigantic, prehistoric ruins of ONE


Sector tell Citizens of events a long time ago? “Was Zog truly the Creator-Builder?” was again asked by clueless beings unaware they had been aboard a not so ‘merry’ Go-Round of Life: it had all happened before. There were secret and nasty organizations in a type of covert underground. They were closeted militarists and in the great minority. As Rebel Rangers were often the outnumbered minority against a dark Empire in the Second Age of Construct #4, so were negative forces in the ‘good’ Fifth Construct. Little was organized as far as super offences and super defenses. There was still Power and Power firmly wielded Power. An uncorrupted State ruled the galaxy. The Galactic State was given the name ‘Overseers.’ Overseers were positive Kings and Queens and Things. There were no more large monarchies or royal titles that operated within the Galactic State. Top officials curbed most small monarchies that still tended to form, especially among yahoo planets. Freedom replaced fascism. But in many Territories, it was a ‘forced freedom’ that rubbed some negative Centers the wrong way. Only a few Citizens were displeased with the peace and love over thousands of yarns. The Pinwheel Galaxy spun the right way. The right way was the ‘order of the day.’ Overseers ruled supremely and Galactic Laws were obeyed, primarily. Citizens were happy for the most part. Then inevitably and again…everything was about to change. It just did. Why can’t the happiness last? Must Yang follow Yin? Can ‘good’ survive? Why can’t a wonderful universe stay unblemished away from any sort of evil Vidor-Dragmar? Why does the pendulum always have to swing to the other side? Must polarities reverse themselves? Do Poles have to shift? In what form will inevitable Doomsday once more appear


at the climax of the Fifth Construct? Can a beautiful dream remain that way, continuously, throughout an endless future? And what is the Ultimate Answer? What of tomorrow? What of the real world?

Chapter One THE DEATH OF TRAY CALADAN The evening on the space base was extraordinary. Again the fantastic night’s sky held thousands of battered planetoids in blue. Their slow movements could be discerned in a ya. Tray’s choice of location for his former ‘Fortress’ was perfect. Their home was lightened by a small blue star given the Binar classification of GGN-5464. The azure ball of light was the center of a billion orbiting and irregular planetoids. His Quartz home with Mary was sacred and so precious to the ex-superhero. He gave his star and crooked land soaked in blue the same name. Tray called his home ‘Hope.’ There were times, in his youth, when the boy cursed the very Zog that he later became. He knew that he was forgiven by the Zogs. They knew him (Upstairs) and understood him. That horrible feeling of Cosmic Loneliness or abandonment by a whole universe would never reoccur. He was not alone now. He was loved above by the Zogs and below by his wife. His work went well. Projects were completed in large numbers. Citizens enjoyed and highly appreciated Tray’s designs or innovations on just about any problem he tackled: from ships, architecture to furniture. It was glorious, especially at a ripe age, to wake up excited with new challenges. His art, games and even his music found a few fans that loved his work. What could go wrong? The last lights of Hope shined its rays upon their home. The evening became even more extraordinary at sunset. Dinner clean-up was

finished and the special couple, who could see into two worlds, relaxed. They had Mead drinks in their hands and set them down. In each other’s arms, they saw their sweet sun sink beneath the irregular horizon. The sight was always fascinating. Because of the time in the yarn or seasonal changes, one never knew exactly which angled crevasse the small star would disappear behind. “Darling?” she asked. Tray replied with, “Yes?” “Why is tonight so beautiful?” “The feeling?” “Yes, dear. Is it an anniversary of some kind? You know of…” Tray completed Mary’s question as they were both known to do. “Something big going on in the galaxy?” “Stop that.” “Right. Miss Yin tellin’ me to…” “Okay. Okay. Just wondering why everything seems ultimately perfect this evening? Everything in its right place, eh?” “You mean, every night isn’t perfect?” TC quickly corrected himself. “I know what you mean…something feels different about tonight.” They each reached for their Meads on opposite tables at the same time and reacted to it. “Oh, c’mon!” both said at the same time. Then they stood there, dumbfounded. “All right. Here’s a sobering thought…you know what it is?” Tray teased her with a telepathic quiz, which Mary almost always guessed. “Oh, you’re not? You’re going to get serious on me? Okay, just say it; bring her up.” “Mare, in all this time, we never talked about, you know…Lady Braw. You using her body.”

Mary snapped back, “Well, you didn’t have any complaints and SHE sure ain’t using it anymore!” “Easy. I’ve only wondered, you know…” “If she’s still in me?” Mrs. Caladan said from the arms of Mr. Caladan. “Really?” “No, no. I meant, I meant…” “You meant exactly what?” Now the guy had to explain himself. “Sometimes, you know, when your temper shows. I mean only those RARE occasions when…” “Temper!” Mary caught herself and instantly changed to the sensitive self she really was. Calmly and sincerely, she politely asked her husband, “And you think maybe Braw can rise from the ashes, through me?” Mary was real and serious and very curious. Tray also responded to the mellow tone with a calm one of his own. He looked out into the darkness of space and the great unknown. “Was she destroyed?” “She’s dead and can’t harm us. Hon, I’m worried. When you look at me, you see her? Is that it?” “Not at all, darling.” “Then I don’t know why, of all nights, like on this beautiful one, you’d even bring her up?” “Sorry. Yer right. Don’t know why I mentioned her. Hey…” “What?” “C’mere.” Tray grabbed Mary so tight her drink flew to the ground. They passionately kissed. Their tongues touched. The feeling was wet electricity and mega-pleasurable, almost like they were in Nirvana. ***

“What?” “I didn’t say anything,” Mary answered. They were in their unique bedroom with the round, anti-grav bed. The exquisite, massive Quartz intertwined with the base and protruded into the curved room with sharp and very straight angles. Smaller, special mineral shapes and fantastic geodes from many worlds adorned the bedroom. Spots of color were scattered among the neutral Quartz. Tray and Mary made final preparations for sleep and removed their clothes. He asked, “Don’t you think it’s funny we remember the other world?” “…And everyone else does not? I know. Can’t really make good conversations when I go to town for groceries ‘cause no one knows what I’m talkin’ about.” “What town?” he asked and followed up on her joke. They laughed hard. It was good to laugh. Later, in bed and naked, they both exhaled a mutual sigh and one more laugh at the same time. Each held the other and thought how perfect the dream was. They fell asleep. *** Much later, in the dead of night, Mary got up for some reason. Maybe she thought she was thirsty. In darkness, she turned to see her man she assumed was asleep on a bed that hovered two bars above the floor. Mrs. Caladan felt very lucky to be loved by the man. She only recently realized that she was pregnant. Tomorrow she’d break the big news to him. Mary could not wait to see the expression on Tray’s face. He’s going to be so happy. She knew it was a boy. She whispered to herself with joy, “It has to be Sam.”

Instead of leaving the bed as she intended, the woman felt wet spots on soft sheets. She turned on the light. When the brightness of the light hit her eyes, there were red blotches. Mary cleared her eyes and looked again. There was blood! There was blood everywhere! Her impulsive, immediate reaction was to throw herself into him. She grabbed the lifeless body of Tray and when she did: his head came off and fell to the floor! Before she screamed holy terror at the top of her lungs, there was a short silence. In that frozen silence, deep laughter was faintly heard. It was her voice. *** Days passed by. Mary Caladan moved and walked as if she was an empty shell of herself without a Center. Their closest friends took care of the funeral arrangements. A very large tribute was planned by those who loved the artist, but Mary refused the ‘festive’ affair Tray always asked for upon his death. This was not the death anyone had in mind. She thought of Pe’re who would have been devastated to learn how Tray met his end. Pe’re was killed yarns ago in a teleportation accident. He was one of only a few that remembered the ‘mirror world,’ the true reality. Mary was slightly comforted to know that their dear friend would not attend the funeral. Who killed Tray and how did the killer get away so cleanly, without a trace? Tray had been murdered and it made galactic Media news. Overseer officials investigated the killing. With all the new transporter-tech, it was easy for the ‘police’ to have concluded one of Tray’s enemies, possibly a Hit Man, beamed in through no security measures and did the deed. Who would want to murder the artist only a few Mystics knew was

once touched by Zog? During the modest funeral, Mary Caladan was shocked that a high number of Mystics and seers came to the small world called Hope, anyway. Psychics knew. They knew this was not only a death of a noted artist, but the end of a great soul-Center in a material plane. She could not turn them away and the event became quite a large and respectful affair, as it was meant to. Mystics were unclear of the other world that transmuted into the present world as well as unable to see the killer. No psychic aided the Overseers’ investigations. A few of Mary’s girlfriends stayed and comforted her after everyone had left. She told them of the new baby. She could not believe that Tray would never see his only child. From what Mary understood of the Mystic Arts, Tray could live again as SAM. Samuel Douglas Caladan was coming into the world yars from now. There was a slim chance, the Father would become the Son and once more live again in a physical universe. Mary hoped that would be the case. She hoped that the blue light that was her other half might shine again in the future. The galaxy needed heroes. Maybe he would return again? Possibly he would be needed to save the world one more time? Would Sam be anything like Tray? What if he wasn’t? She buried her fears and wondered if events would work out for the best? Her world was in shards. Would it eventually come together with truth and understanding? *** Janna Escovilla from Ramis was Mary’s cousin. She stayed with her, bonded with her and both became closer than they had ever been previously. The wild adventures of past Viper-Women and Red and White Atomics would not be believed by cousin Janna. Even Mary, with the ultra-ability of reception and teuning and

memory, hardly believed what happened in a ‘Continuum Game’ that they were a part of long ago. Nothing was real anymore. Then again, it never was. Janna turned off the large screen of the Media set in the spectacular Quartz living room as Mary entered. “They said…they said…wonderful things about him in a final tribute, Mare.” “Yeah.” “I know you couldn’t watch.” Soon a dazed Mrs. Caladan joined Janna and flopped down on one of the comfy chairs (another he designed). She was not all there. The only weak words that came out of her were, “Now what?” “Hey. Hey! You know you have something…fabulous to look forward to?” “Sam’s coming, yeah, I know.” Mary sounded like a robot. She went through the motions and will go through the motions. But, he won’t be there to share the experience. They shared everything together and now he was gone. “Have you reached him, made contact?” With that question from her cousin, Mary seemed to break out of her funk and looked into the younger girl’s eyes. “That’s the odd thing, Jan. I can’t find’m and I should. I should be able to…he’s, he’s…” She cried again and her cousin understood. “There might be an explanation…you know, to that.” “Like?” “Like he can’t. He wants to but can’t…for now, that is.” “Thanks, cuz.” She felt better and cried less. “You haven’t eaten anything in Cycles. You need to…and sleep. You have to get some good sleep.” “I will. In time, I will.”

Janna was happy to help. She also wanted to steer the conversation into more pleasant waters. “You didn’t tell me his middle name.” Mary gave up a small smile. “Douglas.” “Why Douglas?” “It was his grandfather’s name.” “Oh, I didn’t know that. Samuel Douglas Caladan. And what wonderful things will he do in life? Any visions?” “Huh, ah, well…hadn’t really…” “Well think about it now. What do you see?” Mary officially laughed a little bit. She would concentrate and see what there was to see. “Okay, give me a ya.” After a short mental exercise, she was ready. The cousin wanted to turn the somber mood into a sleep-over (without pillow fights). “We know he’s going to be very powerful, inside.” “Yes,” the younger girl replied eagerly. “Stubborn.” “Oh yes,” was said with a smile. “One more child of destiny, certainly.” “Tell me what he’ll be like.” *** A scene shifted into reality for Mary. Everything in front of her eyes was like a film screen. The screen portrayed future images of what young master Caladan will be like or more specifically: a snippet from his actual life was viewed for only Mary to see and feel. The dream within a dream was dark and its cold atmosphere was tense. Humanoids were around him. Young man, Sam, was in a fight. He was being hit hard by more than one person. Over and over again, the boy was punched with extreme violence! ***

Mary could not take it and screamed! She left her vision instantly and was back on the base called Hope in their living room. Distraught to the maximum, Mary shivered in fear and worry. She told Janna exactly what she observed. “Hold on, hold on! Mare. That was one real moment in his life. And you don’t know the circumstances or anything about what was going on. Maybe he was defending someone he loves, or, or, serving a great cause?” “No! That’s not it,” she emotionally responded with force through her tears. “How do you know?” “Because I was inside Sam. I know his feelings while he was fighting.” “What d’you mean?” Mary could not say it. She didn’t want to answer the question, but her cousin got the truth out of her. Finally, Mary confessed. “Jan…you don’t understand. He…he…enjoyed it.” *** The next day on the small, rough, blue-lit world, came a special gift to Mary. It was very different than any of the gifts, flowers and notes of sympathy. The small package appeared out of nowhere from Pan Movers like the other items. Mary Caladan knew it was unique. It was from Tray! She knew (of course, she was right) that the particular ‘gift’ that just beamed in, she now held in her hands, was really sent by her husband. But how? She opened it. Her green eyes spied a blue crystal of Azurtine. It was perfectly formed, perfectly clear, without a matrix and magically sparkled. Its warm touch was amazing.

Mary concentrated on how this was possible. After a ya of deep thought, the answer was clear as Azurtine. Tray still had some slight influence upon the physical world. She saw that he, invisibly, got the special crystal to an official at Pan Movers. Unknowingly, the Suuran official packed the cerulean crystal and beamed it to the coordinates of the base. She understood TC’s weakness at this point that only a very minute manipulation of matter was possible and that was all that was possible. There would be no other ‘sign’ from him for a long time. That was the extent of what Tray’s spirit could do, but it was enough. She felt better and thanked the Universe. What was the crystal? What was its purpose? As she held it, tears streamed down her face. Mary soon grasped everything in one moment of clarity. This was Tray’s gift to Sam. No one else could access the information held within, except Samuel when he was the right age. Tears were now wonderfully happy tears. She rubbed the natural mineral against her bare stomach where she knew the smallest of life brewed in her (off) Center. Thank Zog. Janna walked in and Mary, for some reason, hid the crystal. *** The Galactic State had its own business at hand with more reports of trouble from ‘The Center.’ Things did not operate smoothly at the supreme place of Giving. There was only one problem and that was the suspicion of destructive uses for the technology. Arguments and counterarguments swelled between inspector-police and various planetary representatives. Media showed more and more hints of what was called ‘militias’ on planets where fayds happened. Overseers did not know how organized these groups were who stockpiled weapons. Were they small, isolated terror cells? Were they under a common umbrella that bred

hatred and war? No one realized how extensive the brutal underground was beneath the surface of paradise. GST was 1916.66. Militias, or the seeds of conflict, were inevitable. Change always occurred over time. Peace was a supremely difficult state to be held and sustained. Pinwheel Paradise was a galactic utopia for over 1900 yarns. There were no major Wars in the 5th GoAround. Nukes were unknown. Life had been generally great for generations without Money. There must be a correlation: Super Constructions were possible without energy spent on destruction. Simple. But the ‘egg of perfection and peace’ had developed cracks over its surface. *** Yars passed and Mary Caladan bulged at the seams. Janna took good care of her. She was everything that was needed as far as a midwife. (Citizen-births were not the painful, crying experiences that they were for yahoo mothers and infants). No doctors or nurses were necessary. The two closest of cousins had a chat one evening. They were in the same positions Tray and Mary stood that last evening, only separate seats. Hope stood in the usual north and slowly disappeared behind the irregular horizon. The artificial atmosphere Tray made was only around the base, which did not alter the view of many thousands of planetoids in the black sky. Their Meads were finished and they felt extremely satisfied. “Mare?” “Jan. You know I don’t have a clue what yer going to say?” “I noticed that lately, girl.”

“Oh pregs makes me less Mystic, that it?” “You said it, not me.” “Ha. What?” “You know we’re not having the birth here, don’t you?” “Huh? This is our…” Mary caught herself and changed to sad. “It was our home.” “You wanna give birth to little Sammy on this desolate rock?” MC stood up a bit from the chair, awkwardly, with a Rocketball inside her. “What are you planning, dear cousin? What have you been up to? And, why don’t I know?” “Marvelous. I LIKE you like this, cuz.” “What?” “Never seen you un-psychic, down with all us mortals.” “Ha. You shouldn’t be making me laugh. What d’you have in mind?” Janna answered, “I think I should be making you laugh and what about we go to Eldorato for a special birthing for a special child?” “Eldorato,” MC responded brightly with almost glee. “You know, that’s where we were going to go next?” “I do know. It’s so damn beautiful there.” “Gorgeous, they say…but…” “No buts, you were going to be there with your husband and you’ll be there with your son. What a super start he will have on life! Devine.” She winked and added, “Would you please leave it up to me? It will be like a wedding. We’ll get everything through Pan. What’s say? You know I’m close with my professors; they wanna be there; it’s mostly all arranged already…eh?” What came out of her surprised mouth was “El.” MC agreed to travel to Eldorato and left everything up to Janna and her friends. She had no idea what was going to happen. So much for the Mystic Arts

during the last yar of delivery (not ‘labor’). Then something bizarre occurred to Mary. She asked with a bit of a tremor, “Oh, w-what if it’s a girl?” Janna laughed hysterically. *** In another part of the Pinwheel Galaxy, on a spiral arm that was darker than most spiral arms, spun an underground of violence. Insiders and outsiders whispered its name: “Lords of Chaos.” They were punks, misfits, anarchists, runaways and even young terrorists. They were the new breed, mega-different than that ‘peace’ punse. Nineteen hundred yarns of ‘too much of a good thing’ had to result in an innovation, the invention called HATE, aggression and war. Many Citizens thought the planet of ‘Castrovalva’ in Benis Pol had such a lovely name. Below the black planet were hidden levels that housed a large organization known (in the underground) as the ‘Lords of Chaos.’ Here was the very ‘Center’ of physical evil in the galaxy. Overseers did not know of the growing menace. Even Mystics and seers were unaware. The underground had bubbled to the surface on many star systems. On local systems, ‘cells’ or franchises of hate and violence were established. Each cell reported or was under the jurisdiction of the Prime Cell located in secret chambers under the surface of Castrovalva. How could Mystics not know the real size and power of the new Rebels? The answer had to be from the ‘magick’ of negative Mystics, dark Yins or ‘Yangs’ that worked out of Rom Sector. ‘Psychic force-fields’ were set in place by evil Magickians, which masked the existence of the headquarters or Prime Cell, the black planet. Citizens on many planets have noticed tattooed, spiked, pierced ‘punks’ that rebelled against the extended ‘niceness’ in the galaxy. The

music of the ‘New Lords’ screamed of wicked violence. Citizens concluded that the anarchist youths experienced only a ‘phase.’ The children will grow out of it was the prevailing thought. No one understood that the universe was in a great process of change. The Pinwheel Galaxy bounced back as a ‘Pendulum’ swung the other way. Who understood that the rebellion was tightly organized and under the fake control of a single (puppet) Ring-Master? There was a new ‘Sheriff in town’ and his name was Stall Gruber. Revolution was down the road, yarns away. Would the youth revolt in many star systems escalate and ignite mega-wars? Would some Vidor discover the Secret of Atomics all over again? Electrical poles of the galaxy which held firmly at POSITIVE for 1900 yarns…could switch to NEGATIVE in a ya. For the moment, everything was calm and quiet. A major war had not happened, yet a major war was felt in cosmic winds along spaceways. An overall feeling of dread was upon the perfection of Pinwheel. Times were really going to change, again. *** To find out what happens next, go to to find the links to purchase this ebook and paperback from the TWB Press Bookstore, Amazon Kindle, B&N Nook, Smashwords, and other online booksellers.

About the Author

Tray Caladan was born Doug Yurchey in Pittsburgh, PA. in 1951 to Rose and Stephen Yurchey. A shy, only-child retreated into his own world and drew pictures. He earned a tennis scholarship to Edinboro State as an art major only to quit and begin the ‘Art Trek’ gallery. There, he encountered a psychic (Katrina) that would forever change his life and send him on a course to solve great mysteries. In 1990-91, he worked as a background artist on the Simpsons. Tray’s important articles, videos, radio shows, theories, patent, stories, games and artwork can all be viewed online. His positive message of a ‘New Human Genesis’ pervades his sciencefiction and fantasy as well~

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Son of Zog  

Superhero of The Continuum, Cal-El is murdered, and his son is tasked with saving the universe from atomic war and anarchy.