Excerpt Chapter Three : The Scrolls

Jason had now been staying at his inner-Melbourne home for the last three months. It was a reasonably quiet, leafy suburb, within walking distance of the city center and he enjoyed the privacy and seclusion it offered. Very few people knew of all his many residences around the world but only two knew of this one. That was one of the reasons he kept his most precious possessions here. Among those possessions were the ancient scripts, texts and books left to him by his late grandmother Junice King.

He had looked at the content of the storage cases his grandmother had left him only a few times as there was just so much of it and till now all he knew was that they seemed to range from a hundred years old to ancient. The most recent were in a bound book form and had been written by a mysterious author simply identified as EAP. He had assumed that EAP was probably the initials of the writer and from what he could tell they were english interpretations of the other scripts and texts in the case that were much older and written in a mix of foreign languages and complex handwriting skills he could not understand.

He had only read a few paragraphs previously and it seemed to be telling some very old stories he guessed had been handed down from writer to writer over what seemed like hundreds maybe even thousands of years. There were several books, and each one was in a sort of order according to the age of the story. Of course, at first, he thought it was just fiction but now after his recent experiences in the chamber it may just be history being told firsthand and he wanted to understand more.

As he thought about this his step quickened along the tree-lined street. He had walked most of the way as he did not want any of his drivers to know about this residence and at any rate, he needed time to think, and walking was when he could concentrate best.

As he opened the front gate he glanced up and down the street and every car parked nearby in a flash assessment of his surroundings and who might be watching. This was a normal impulse for him everywhere he went, ingrained by years of mental enforcement.

As all was clear and no-one to be seen he entered and shut the large gate behind him. He took out his phone and used it to turn off the house’s internal and external alarm systems. No matter where he was in the world, every house and apartment he owned was linked to a security system totally controlled by his phone. If you weren’t meant to be in one of his residences he would know about it. Only one other person in the world had access and that was his business partner Pietta so if he was somewhere like the chamber and there was an intruder she would know about it and send him notification, as well as the police if necessary.

To most people it would seem excessive but since the Ong attacks and now his international appointment he had not taken any chance. He did not believe in bodyguards for himself as he did not trust anyone else and knew he could take care of himself better than any other person. His whole life had been about preparation for these years.

Once inside the house he kicked off his shoes and replaced them with slip-ons. He then went straight to the living area where he poured himself a whiskey and moved to his reading room. He put the whisky filled glass on a table near a large lounge and then went to a cupboard and pulled out a large, much travelled luggage trunk. Opening it he removed three binders that he knew where the ones he had previously ascertained as the oldest written in english and carried them to the lounge where he sorted them, placing two on the table and the other one, he opened to the first page and sat down on the lounge. Taking one more sip from the whiskey glass he began to read.