TRANSFER FROM MEMO TO
ENDTIME CHRONICLES: HISTORY OF THE END OF THE WORLD
1. THE ARRIVAL
It was a time of material wealth and spiritual chaos. Mankind tried defining itself again and again in ways which were alien and opposite to their origins and destination. The most bizarre rolemodels dominated the youth. Sex, luxury and danger dominated thoughts and actions around the world. "Everybody is afraid, just like in the last days of Atlantis.", Laura thought when she mounted the bus, which was late, as usual.
The only other passenger was a man in his thirties. Obvious a sailor, who went immediately to the back of the bus and fell asleep. Laura chose the seat behind the driver and relaxed.
At daytime it was an impressive ride. About a hundred feet wide and 38 kilometers long, it was one of the greatest engineering projects of that time some 80 years ago. It had an colossal impact. But the parts of the former Frisian empire, which meant the coastline from Denmark to Belgium, had drifted apart. Instead of reuniting the past powers, they now were competitors in a global economic battlefield. At night she saw the moonlit waves on both sides of her, dotted with light. Impressive too.
Laura opened her bag looking for her waterbottle. Instead she packed the deck of cards. In her first year in Amsterdam, she had seen a man, being chased and shot at by the police. He had dropped a bag in front of her and before running on, gave her a begging look, as if he handed the bag to her. Everybody, including the police ran around in total chaos, so she could easily pick up the bag and put it in her handbag.
At home se had studied the cards. It was an unusual deck. One side showed an old weapon, carried by to red eagles. On the other side, they were all different. Faces, landscapes, maps, symbols and formula. The cards had a silvery glow about them then and this glow got stronger when she opened the deck. The faces looked familiar, as if they were member of a family or brotherhood.
"You are getting closer. Hold on." She shook her head. "Who was that talking?" She looked around, but het only companion was the sailor. who was still asleep and the driver, who listened to his Ipod.
"I must have been falling asleep.", Laura thought and she put the cards back in her bag and found the waterbottle. The bus passed an old and abandoned military fort. It was here, in World War 2, that the Dutch and the Frisians, had put a halt to the Nazi-warmachine. Though the battle had been highly exegarated, you could still feel the pride and determination when you were inside the bunkers. At least, that she was told.
The bus left the highway, to make her way to the small, though important, Frisian harbortown. "Which once was an outpost of Atlantis." Another voice said. Laura knew, that she needed a joint to silence these voices, which kept telling her tales of old. Tales from before the flood.
The busterminal was dark, dirty and desolated. The young sailor had put his bag on his shoulder and disappeared into the darkness. The bus, filled with drunk students, made his way across the seas again. It would be dark for several hours. Across the street was a bridge, which led into a small park. Laura had her sleeping bag with her and she had slept in worse situations. She could also nick a bike, there were several hundreds of them standing around, and try to find a better place to spend a couple of hours. And roll a joint.
Still hesitating she saw a woman, in her thirties, dressed in black, approaching her. When she was close enough, she looked into a face full of determination and passion. "Welcome," the stranger said. "Welcome to Atlantis. We have been expecting you." Before she could say anything, the woman picked up her bag and signalled to follow her.
The only other passenger was a man in his thirties. Obvious a sailor, who went immediately to the back of the bus and fell asleep. Laura chose the seat behind the driver and relaxed.
At daytime it was an impressive ride. About a hundred feet wide and 38 kilometers long, it was one of the greatest engineering projects of that time some 80 years ago. It had an colossal impact. But the parts of the former Frisian empire, which meant the coastline from Denmark to Belgium, had drifted apart. Instead of reuniting the past powers, they now were competitors in a global economic battlefield. At night she saw the moonlit waves on both sides of her, dotted with light. Impressive too.
Laura opened her bag looking for her waterbottle. Instead she packed the deck of cards. In her first year in Amsterdam, she had seen a man, being chased and shot at by the police. He had dropped a bag in front of her and before running on, gave her a begging look, as if he handed the bag to her. Everybody, including the police ran around in total chaos, so she could easily pick up the bag and put it in her handbag.
At home se had studied the cards. It was an unusual deck. One side showed an old weapon, carried by to red eagles. On the other side, they were all different. Faces, landscapes, maps, symbols and formula. The cards had a silvery glow about them then and this glow got stronger when she opened the deck. The faces looked familiar, as if they were member of a family or brotherhood.
"You are getting closer. Hold on." She shook her head. "Who was that talking?" She looked around, but het only companion was the sailor. who was still asleep and the driver, who listened to his Ipod.
"I must have been falling asleep.", Laura thought and she put the cards back in her bag and found the waterbottle. The bus passed an old and abandoned military fort. It was here, in World War 2, that the Dutch and the Frisians, had put a halt to the Nazi-warmachine. Though the battle had been highly exegarated, you could still feel the pride and determination when you were inside the bunkers. At least, that she was told.
The bus left the highway, to make her way to the small, though important, Frisian harbortown. "Which once was an outpost of Atlantis." Another voice said. Laura knew, that she needed a joint to silence these voices, which kept telling her tales of old. Tales from before the flood.
The busterminal was dark, dirty and desolated. The young sailor had put his bag on his shoulder and disappeared into the darkness. The bus, filled with drunk students, made his way across the seas again. It would be dark for several hours. Across the street was a bridge, which led into a small park. Laura had her sleeping bag with her and she had slept in worse situations. She could also nick a bike, there were several hundreds of them standing around, and try to find a better place to spend a couple of hours. And roll a joint.
Still hesitating she saw a woman, in her thirties, dressed in black, approaching her. When she was close enough, she looked into a face full of determination and passion. "Welcome," the stranger said. "Welcome to Atlantis. We have been expecting you." Before she could say anything, the woman picked up her bag and signalled to follow her.
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