Brilliant Story From Future - Reader by Ambra [Through Erec Stebbins...] Ambra Dawn Visits!

 "Amazingly, standing in the doorway were two human beings. They were dressed in robes not too different from our own—thicker, more worn, with strange markings across the back. They were likely in their twenties, although they looked  older. As I was to learn, life for humans in space under alien care was shorter than on Earth, full of many more health  problems and complications. Most of us did not live beyond forty years, and by the time we hit our thirties, we looked  sixty. A moment of hope and relief swept through the group  of children. It was quickly dashed as the men spoke.

 “No words,” one barked. “You will do as you are told and prepare to serve the Sortax. 

 "This is a training vessel, and you will be instructed in guiding the navships to the Orb portals. Nothing else matters to your existence. If you cannot perform, you will be discarded. You are to report to us or other Human Shepherds. Under no circumstances are you to attempt any contact with non-human residents of any ship. Follow us to your quarters.” They turned, and marched from the door, leaving us stunned and empty. One by one, we stood up, stretched our sore bodies bounced by the trip through Earth’s atmosphere, and walked through the door to our new life.

~~~

"In the beginning, we were subjected to simulations. Always, it was the same. From a disembodied point of view, I would see myself approaching a sphere of light of great complexity. 

"To call a real Orb a sphere is a distortion, as the word suffers from the biased view of humans and aliens who cannot see it as I do—the substructure, layers upon layers not unlike an onion, but casting out in independent dimensions beyond the three we perceive with our eyes. My mind’s other sense could see in these directions, and the Orbs were more like infinite webs whose projection in three-space was a humble sphere. The simulations captured only a faint aspect of this— only when we approached a true Orb did its beauty become apparent to me. 

"Our training sims were not focused on the Orbs, however, but on the tendrils, the glowing Strings that spread from them. The Strings extending from a true Orb traveled in many dimensions, but the sims captured only those that were in the visual three dimensions, and it was along these lines that we were to direct the point of view, the ship in reality, when the time came to navigate in earnest. We would spend hours guiding little simulated spaceships onto the tendrils, one after another after another. What I would find out later is that the galactic hegemony of the Dram was established through using the tendrils to travel through space-time. The Strings could be used as tunnels, shortcuts between any two Orbs, cutting the travel time between stars and planetary systems from eons into days. I did not understand how this happened or why these Orbs had been placed where they had. For the present, all that mattered was mastering the ability to help the ships navigate. 

~~~

Reader

By Ambra Dawn

My time may be short; I have not attempted to communicate with this new, female human before, but she is very receptive to my story. I watched as I she cried, seeing what the doctors first did to me while I was still on earth. My mother was the only human female I intimately knew, but now, having this woman cry for me, I feel a new strength and I pray that other females with such empathy will know my sorrow, read my story, and will be moved to act... There is really no way to describe the pain of what they did. My only reality, now, allows me to look back with gratitude to the doctor who risked his life--and allowed my brain to grow... Now it is our only hope...Your only hope...

I'm using every means possible to reach out to humans on earth. This female listens with her heart so that I can write more from my heart. Erec Stebbins listened with his brilliant scientific, but, thankfully, compassionate mind... But this is the last communique for now... My Story, Writer, will be my last attempt... Please look for it soon...

Still, I am so alone now and seeing them murder my parents will never leave me. One day I will find those responsible and when I do... Even knowing my parents would not want me seeking revenge I cannot and will not forget! My parents were so wonderful--they both had special gifts. It must be that I was blessed with their gifts combined...but that didn't help when they discovered the tumor on my brain. They lied to my parents and told them it would be removed--explaining that was why I had to go with them. Since then I've found that children all over the world have been taken...I'm not alone but that doesn't help much since nobody is still alive who cares for us... Thus my attempt to reach into the past, to help prepare you for what is coming. Earth will be destroyed if you don't read my words!

That tumor? They never removed it... Instead, what they did was to open the back of my head and encase the tumor, allowing it to grow as big as it would. They just kept changing the size of my head! At least a lot of my hair grew back and most of it covers what I really look like, but you can say it--I don't mind--I look weird! I look like I am no longer a human. But I was born on earth and loved our planet so much... 

That's why I've been so desperate to reach those who can help--those from the past...you, who can, if you wish, read my story and learn what is going to happen! Please! You who read books, please read mine. 

I, too, am a Reader... but, it is quite a different type of activity for me... My reading takes people from one place to another--from a planet to another planet... My brain is special--even among other readers so that I am able to also read the future and the past... Most of the readers have some psychic abilities that are used to navigate ships out in space. We learned how to drive, using our minds. But, the thing is, we are treated as slaves--not as somebody who can provide a valuable service! In fact, all humans everywhere are now enslaved...

The universe is so much bigger than anything we ever knew about there on earth. Orbs are located near certain highly populated planets and these are used to relocate much more quickly than anything developed on earth. In fact, you will, I am sure, have never heard of an orb, so I wanted you to have a look at how beautiful they are, even if they seem mysterious and so very strange...

We all walked quietly in our thin robes, cold and afraid.
Several kids could be heard sobbing, and one or
 two broke down and refused to enter. The response from the
Sortax was rapid and harsh. They would extend a dark
 rod towards the child who would then scream in pain and collapse.
 The Sortax would command the child to move forward in line,
 and, after that pain, each did. Inside, it became clear how
 alien we actually were. The ship was designed, of course,
for its crew, these sea-dwelling Sortax with their many arms
 and liquid-filled suits. The ship inside was designed with
 liquid filling nearly all the chambers, and I marvel now at
 the compensation the Sortax must have used to offset all
 that extra weight. There were “airlocks” of a kind for the natives
 (Them), that we bypassed without engaging. A short tunnel
 led to our holding pen, which, once all the children had entered,
 was sealed off from the rest of the ship. Sealed off from the
 rest of the ship. That essentially describes all the interactions
 of humans with any of the diverse alien species in the galaxy,
 as compatible environments rarely existed. S
ome needed liquid medium like the Sortax, others required
 some kind of gaseous environment. Often these gases were
 toxic or otherwise incompatible with our survival.
One ironic exception turned out to be the Dram, the
 Romans themselves. who ruled over all the other species
and who required a very similar oxygen and nitrogen
 content to that on Earth, even if their Earth-like planet was
 on the other side of the Milky Way. The other were the
 Xix, who needed only a small modification to an Earth-like
 atmosphere, which they achieved through a device worn
 around their necks in our presence, if you could
 describe the Xix as having necks.
~~~

Before I go any further, though, I must tell you about the Sortax! In fact, in my time, they have captured earth and any human still living are slaves to this species! The Sortax are water dwellers and I can only think of our earth's octopus to help describe them, but they must have a longer trunk and their arms range further on the trunk so that when they are in their water-filled suits they can use those we can see as arms...

Of course, none of we humans have ever seen them without their water suits, so we are only guessing what they truly look like! We do know they are intelligent and dangerous to the whole world!

Fortunately, there is at least one species who has tried to be neutral--they offer to help inhabitants of all planets and have much healing knowledge and skill.   The Xixians saved my life--which was amazing in itself since I was so close to death that the monster that I was--I was now even more grotesque

"I was a dying and wasted thing, starving, skeletal, my gums bleeding, sores all over my body. I no longer cared to live and could barely process the reality around me. The demon-ship that held us in torment had docked, and the usual sounds of unloading and loading could be heard..." 

I will not attempt to describe this group or others since you will have the opportunity in Reader to meet them...

I can only say that they were the only ones who actually saw--and knew--what I could do and they worked to ensure that I was able to use those skills to the best advantage. Even they, however, could not grasp what I was able to do with the Orbs. But they saw, and believed...

Now we are beginning to fight back, but will it be too late??? 

I know, I know. this story is outrageous to contemplate. There have always been stories about our world, Earth, being destroyed. But nobody ever had the opportunity to tell how it happened. If I had not been stolen and made to be the monster that I am--a monster, though, who has unbelievable skills, this story would not have been possible. I have become the Daughter of Time and I had read my past. Yes, of course, I have talked with my parents, but that was before Earth had been enslaved. I have come from the future to seek your prayers, your positive thoughts... Read me! As I have read your future! You Must...Read...

"Don't let us die...dare to believe..."

Amber Dawn
A free Kindle copy is now available!
Read an Excerpt from Writer - Next!

An Email From Ambra... Star of Erec Stebbins' Reader!

From the future, a final plea. Out of the past, a last hope.

--by Ambra Dawn

This blog post may be the most important you will ever read.

That may seem sensationalist, but that’s because you don't understand the nature of reality and are ignorant of the critical juncture Earth will find itself in the not-too-distant future. You also could never have anticipated how important you could be as a reader to the struggle of humanity to escape a terrible calamity.

Below the title of the first person, "science fiction" novel called Reader, is an author’s name: Erec Stebbins. He is a traditionally published novelist with a thriller under his belt (The Ragnarök Conspiracy, published by Seventh Street Books). For the last 12 years he has been working as a scientist running a basic research lab in molecular biophysics in New York City.

He believes this story is full of his ideas, born of his own mind. It’s not. I am writing it through him. In his reality, it’s all part of a clever plot he’s stitched together, even down to this very blog post, written "as if" from the future, that says he isn’t the author. The truth is, it is the effort of my mind reaching out, back through what you call Time, and inspiring his mind, shaping his thoughts, convincing him of this reality.

Sounds crazy? It is. I know it is. And I'm the one doing it.

I don’t enjoy doing this, playing puppet master with this citizen of your time. But our need is hopelessly desperate. More than you can imagine has been lost. And we are left with nothing but ashes in the cold of space.

I’ve done worse. This is dangerous, both for his mind, and my own. Already, I have failed many times to send my message, and my efforts wrecked the receiving minds, driving them to madness. At other times, what has come out of the author has been a story so distorted, so warped by his own imaginings, that the message is lost, and can’t achieve its purpose. Your libraries hold some of these disasters. I can only hope that this, my last effort, will not fail.

There is so much to explain, so much that you need to understand before you can accept the message, and take the step we so desperately need you to take. So many things - strange things, horrible things. Things that can’t possibly be true, but are.

As much as the future can reach back into the past, the past can reach forward into the future. And in our time of need, we need you of our recent past. You have a part to play in righting a terrible wrong, saving billions of lives, and reversing the horrific fate that has descended upon humanity. Somehow in this email, and in the pages of the novel I have written through him, I must convince you and many more of this. May I be forgiven if I can’t.

My murdered parents called me Ambra Dawn, and I am a Reader. Hear my story. Champion it. This is our terrible plea to you of the still living Earth.

The fate of humanity depends upon your actions.

Yours in terrible need,

AD

Spotlighted Author Erec Stebbins' Reader - An Excerpt!

1

Who sees the future? I am conscious of being only an individual struggling weakly against the stream of time.

—Ludwig Boltzmann

The dream always began well.

It was a moist and warm spring afternoon, and a soft breeze blew over the lush grass of our backyard toward the house, carrying the strong smells of the newly tilled earth. The sun partially blinded me as I ran over the grass toward the edge of our corn fields, stumbling on my short legs, yet not falling, my arms stretched out to embrace a tall shadow in the light before me. I could not have been more than five years old.

Suddenly, the sun was dimmed as my father’s broad frame eclipsed its radiance, and the shadow transitioned instantly into his familiar form. I leapt into his outstretched arms squealing, and his soiled hands caught me tightly and swung me around as I giggled, staring into his bright-blue eyes framed under locks of golden-red hair. Then he tossed me upward. The ground below me, half green from grass, half rich brown from the newly plowed field, receded as the blue sky enveloped me, and I felt the thrilling tug of gravity grab my stomach, and pull me back to Earth. Several times he threw me, and I went farther and laughed harder each time. Higher and higher I soared, until the blue turned black and the Earth below became a mere sphere, dotted with continents and oceans, and above the stars shone through the thinning atmosphere.

For a moment I floated, thrown so high I nearly escaped the bonds of gravity tying us to our home world, and the stars seemed to tug at me as well—beckoning me, luring me with a cold intensity that my child’s senses felt as vaguely threatening. My giddiness began to turn to anxiety as I felt something wrong, something impure out there that waited in the diamond-pricked blackness in front of me. Something searching…for me.

But then I began to fall again, the air rushing over me, through clouds and air currents, seeing the ground first as a patchwork of squares and rectangles as from an airplane, resolving slowly to the familiar patterns of our neighborhood, and, at last, to that of my own family’s farm. Spinning slowly in my downward trajectory, I saw my father from above, patiently waiting for me, arms outstretched with hands held high to catch me. The air whipped my clothes back behind me as I hurtled downward. Wasn’t I going too fast, falling without aid from the edges of space? How could he possibly slow my momentum, catch me before I plunged devastatingly like some fiery meteor into the ground?

But he did. With a slight impact, I was caught and safe in his arms, some extra momentum diverted into a swinging motion, once more spinning me in circles until I laughed. Slowly, he came to a stop and set me on the ground, my head a mess and dizzy, my legs wobbly. He smiled down at me, tousled my hair and said, “Only you can go so high, Ambra Dawn. You were meant for more than just this place.”

His words were so lovingly spoken, and yet in my heart they echoed ominously. And, as if in answer to my deep fears, his face clouded, and he focused behind me, rising from a partial stoop and gazing across toward our house. My eyes followed him upward, and then my entire body turned to track his gaze.

Standing outside the back door that exited from our kitchen was my mother, her long red hair caught like a sideways waterfall in the breeze. Yet she stood still. So terribly still. Her face was frozen in stone: anxiety, fear etched in every line. One arm was raised at ninety degrees to her body, pointing like an arrow in front of the house. She remained pointing, unmoving, like some directional sign indicating the path we must follow.

My awareness sped toward her, stopping in front of her face, then turning and following her arm from the bright light of the day outside and into the dim blackness of the kitchen, through the inside of our house, and then out again from the front door.

Three black cars with tinted windows were parked in front of the house. Out of these cars stepped a troop of tall men in suits and dark sunglasses, several of them very broad and muscular, with earpieces and wires dangling from them. I found myself no longer in a small child’s body but now inhabiting that of a preteen of eleven years. They brushed me aside and herded my parents into the house. I followed behind them, feeling ignored and unwanted. A terrible sense of foreboding hung over me, and the darkness of the men’s suits seemed deeper than that of the space I had gazed into only moments before.

Short, and yet long separations of time. The way of dreams. For me, the way of life.

They sat around the kitchen table, the smaller men talking to my parents, the larger ones posted like soldiers around the house and out by their cars. My mother was getting very anxious. She spoke with a shrill note in her voice. The small room was so still and quiet after the wind and openness outside.

“I don’t understand. We don’t know who you are. We can’t just turn her over to you without more information, whatever you say.”

“Mrs. Dawn,” said the smallest man, with a raspy voice that made my skin crawl, “we are a special governmental division, and we have developed unique technologies for the military. One of these is a special type of laser. Army doctors have shown that it can be used to kill cancer cells. We can promise you a full cure, without major side effects. No one else can. But this is top-secret technology. We cannot share this with you or anyone else – not even your doctors. Therefore, her treatment must remain secret.”

He took off his dark glasses and stared at my mom, but I was sitting behind him and couldn’t see his face. “A doctor in the Omaha unit is a friend of mine. He was direct with me – she won’t live past next year with current treatments. We are your only hope.”

I saw my mother tear up and my father’s jaw become set. “Now you look here. You’ve got no cause to be speaking like that and upsetting my wife. This is all irregular. Government or not, it ain’t my way to trust shadows. If what you’re saying is true, we’ll work with you. But I’ve got to know more.”

“But Frank, you heard him,“ my mom began.

“Never you mind what he said. I don’t like this talk. We ain’t shopping for some used car right now.”

Just then, I dropped the wooden toy I was holding in my hands. It was a small hand-carved globe, with all the continents embossed on the surface. I can see it now hitting the wooden floor with a thud and rolling out of the kitchen to the living room. My heart constricted. The Earth! I did not want to lose it! The man in the dark suit with his back to me turned around, and then I screamed.

I couldn’t help it. I was only eleven, and it was too much for me. That demon face – I had seen it before. In another dream. Dreams within dreams. His face was part of a foggy future vision, one I had forgotten and that rushed back through me like nails in my veins. Flashes of future memories whipped through my mind of pain, and fear, and loneliness, and horror – all connected to this face grinning back at me like some fiend from hell.

I ran. I jumped from my seat and ran like I’ve never run in my life. Behind me I half-heard the shouts of my parents calling my name and the harsh barks of this man to his soldiers. “Get her!” Then the horrible screams of my parents behind. But I could not stop running. That terrible sense in a dream of a monster approaching from behind grew within me, and I could feel its breath and fangs approaching, gaining ground, nearing to grapple at my back and legs.

I ran so hard I thought my chest would explode. Across the manicured green of our backyard, into the high fields of corn that spread out like a sea on all sides, grown thick now near harvest season. The stalks slapped me in the face, on my arms, across my chest as I ran, my breath like deep wheezings from some dying thing. Where was I going? I didn’t know. Away. I had to get away. “On the other side of the cornfields,” something screamed in my mind. There was safety, if I could just get through the fields, to the road, I would find a car, someone to take me to get help and protect me from the monsters following behind. I was close. My panting was like a windstorm in my mind. So close.

And then a sharp pain, a bright light like a flash in my eyes, and I was on my back, a dark figure towering over me. Warm liquid trickled down from my nose, and I felt too weak to move.

A second figure stood over me, blocking out the light of the day. In the shadow of his body, I saw that demon face again, smiling, laughing as he stared down at me.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, little girl. Don’t think you can escape. Don’t ever think you can escape from us. We have plans for you.”

I couldn’t respond: fear, pain, and nausea swept over me, and the world above me shrank to a small point as darkness filled in the sides. In a moment, all was black, and the sky was gone.

The same dream. Experienced countless nights. Memories of the past recreated. But this time it did not end with the darkness.

In that absolute black, I heard voices. Your voices. Millions of them, rising like an ocean of sound, a chorus calling to me across the ever-changing fabric of Time. And in that half-asleep state, moments before waking, when inspiration meets the practicality of day, I knew.

The answer was clear before my mind. 

~~~