Ramu Tet gazed at the Egyptian skies over Luxor. He felt the magic of the dark expanse and the bright stars sweep across his imagination. In the liquid darkness, he felt the mystery of the shining starlight bathe the Valley of the Kings in the light immortal. Narrowing his sapphire eyes, he saw the glowing, silent, triangular ship land on the ageless sand – in the night – under a full moon, while the pharaohs slept their deathless sleeps.

Present Time
Boulder City, Nevada was a quiet community of sunshine and warm breezes.
Dr. Ernest Ritual enjoyed the quiet of his twenty-year old ranch house that overlooked Lake Mead. Within reach were Nellis Air Force Base, an Air Warfare Training Center for U.S. and Foreign fighter pilots, and Area 51, the U.S. government’s super secret research facilities that housed aircraft, perhaps alien, for future clandestine missions. Independently wealthy, he pursued his obsession as a UFO artifact hunter with enthusiasm, especially since he was now working with Colonel Snider and his government UFO project. After ten years he’d finally found what he felt might be the Rosetta Stone of alien objects. It was a triangular Tablet. He’d found the Tablet in a curio shop in Sedona, Arizona and had purchased it for ten dollars. He’d placed it on a shelf in his home, then one night, while sitting in front of his fireplace, he’d casually noticed its luminescent qualities.
It spoke to him in strange ways. It summoned him.
Like a curious child, he studied it one cool winter evening, discovering that the Tablet shimmered as he looked at it in the darkness. As he gazed into the shimmering, in his mind’s eye, he saw familiar, faint symbolic images. That night he dreamt of faraway places – deserts, a white chapel, and museums.
He’d sent a photograph of the Tablet, with a letter, to his long time associates: Dr. Georges Plankton, in Hawaii, and, in Limoges, France, Bernard Olivette, an alchemist and Proto-Historian (one who looks to the legends and myths of civilization). He also sent one to his government associate, Colonel Stephen Snider.
Bernard had written back:
Ernest:
The photograph stunned me into silence. It matches perfectly with my triangular Tablet from ancient Rome, except for the position of the cut edges. It’s difficult to tell, but I believe additional tablets exist. I’m not sure how many. We know one thing; tablets mean language, perhaps even the beginnings of language or something else. When all the tablets are arranged, like a puzzle, they might reveal themselves, hopefully, pointing to something we have all been searching for – clues to humankind’s original words or symbols, unencumbered by alterations or changes. Who knows, even insights about the universe could be revealed. As I’ve said many times, the bones and knives of excavations will not lead us to civilization’s primordial DNA, our first expressions of intelligence, the beginning of the human journey towards enlightenment.
All the Best,
Bernard


For the first time in months, Ritual was excited. Collaborating always stimulated him, as did finding a new artifact.
Tablets located across the globe. All connected in some way. The beginning of a quest, he thought. This means I travel to Europe to meet Bernard.
His last adventure took him to the Andes and a forgotten village. There he’d found numerous references etched on stones that linked to similar writings and images in Egypt and India. He’d spent the last twelve months trying to correlate the images. He was especially puzzled by a difficult to understand image – ▒.
But Dr. Ernest Ritual never started his quest.
After falling asleep in front of a warming fire, on a clear Nevada night, he was murdered, clutching the letter from his associate in France.


As the murderer was stealing the letter and the Tablet, a black hole was forming in a far part of the universe….