Save the Last Bullet for God

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Authors: J.T. Alblood

Tags: #doomsday, #code, #alien contact, #spacetime, #ancient aliens, #nazi germany 1930s, #anamporhous, #muqattaat, #number pi, #revers causality

BOOK: Save the Last Bullet for God
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“SAVE YOUR LAST BULLET FOR GOD”
AN ANAMORPHOUS NOVEL ABOUT ORIGINS, ALIENS
AND THE TIME

 

J.T. ALBLOOD

 

Copyright J.T. Alblood 2015

Smashwords Edition

 

DNE EHT

 

You, dear reader, are already aware of the events of WWII and
you are experiencing the consequences. However, that is not the
subject of this book. This book deals with Operation WTA, a secret
mission completed in the midst of WWII.

The story is a complex one and includes aliens; mystics;
occult societies; the thousands-year-long invasion of aliens into
the human genome; retro-chronal causality; and the secret codes
within DNA, the number Pi and the Holy book. Ultimately this story
will explain the causes and outcome of Operation WTA.

 

 

Table of Contents

13 January 1943

Spring 1933

Spring 1920

Spring 1933,
Berlin

1 December 1957

Part 2

2012, Istanbul

TV Talk Show

The Labyrinth

The Exchange

Creating Something Together

Elif

I Can’t Take My Words Back

Part 3

Limbo

Winter 1214

Cuci

West

The West of the
East

Gurgenc

The Far West

Limbo

Subconscious

Limbo

Overconscious

Limbo

Francisco
Pizarro

1941,
Princeton

Relativity

Wilhelm
Reich

Limbo

Limbo

Berlin 1933

 

 

YTILASUAC

 

RETROCAUSALITY

 

13 January 1943,
Munich

Maria Orsic

 

 

Autumn 1938, Berlin

Wilhelm Reich

 

The SS officer squinted through the burnt
scar tissue on his face as he finished memorizing the Sanskrit
codes. He nodded and stood at attention.

Himmler watched me through the smoke of his
cigarette as I leaned over the Sanskrit text to scrutinize the code
before approving it. When I looked up, satisfied, Himmler placed
his lit cigarette in the ashtray, stood up and, in a single motion,
yanked his gun from its holster and pointed it at the officer.

“Mr. Reinhardt,” Himmler barked. “You know
your duty! You will keep the localization signal on until the
spaceship arrives,” he commanded.

The gunshot rang off the metal walls as blood
spattered on the file and the SS officer collapsed to the
floor.

Leaving his gun on the table, Himmler took
his cigarette from the ashtray and drew on it. He exhaled casually
and turned to me. “Mr. Reich, your spaceship now has an active
navigation system.”

I took my eyes off of Reinhardt, whose body
gave a few more involuntary twitches as he breathed his last. I
looked at Himmler.

“What about the camouflage?” I said
flatly.


You will have more than you want. A
year from now, when we set the world on fire, even God will not
know what to do.” Himmler smirked and drew on his cigarette once
more.
“The Führer’s orders are clear:
‘Take over the spacecraft. Send one person to Hell to provide the
coordinates to the spacecraft.’” Himmler smirked as he said the
second part and as poked the dead Officer with his foot. “‘Then
begin the
blitzkrieg
and kill God by having the assassin…’”—Himmler turned his
gaze to me now—“‘…enter Hell through the back gate.’”

 

I looked at the blood soaked file in my hand
and saw some of the Sanskrit letters begin to change shape.

 

 

1935, Orient Express, Near the Bulgarian
border

Wilhelm Reich/ Clairvoyant Vanga

There were only two of us in the train
compartment moving through the dark night.

I buried myself in J.R. Koldeway’s
archeological excavation drafts, sifting through the pictures of
clay tablets and the pile of papers with notes in different
handwriting. Hellen rested her head on the window slowly flipping
through a style magazine without reading it.

Hellen moved her head away from the window,
and pushed my paper down gently. “Is he coming with us?” she
asked.

“Where”, I asked.

Hellen whispered, “To that blind mystic’s
village.”

“Of course…”

Otto Reinhardt came into the compartment with
three glasses and a crystal whiskey decanter.

I took the glass from the Nazi Officer taking
note of the burns on his face. “Maybe the right question is ‘What
the hell are we doing in this mountain village in the middle of the
night?’” I said before downing my drink in one swallow.

We still had another several days before we
reached Mesopotamia.

 

 

1934, Oslo

Wilhelm Reich

To the murderer of my son,

Mr. Reich:

During our dig, we discovered a 5000
year-old sepulcher. One of the clay tablets contains a Sumerian
cuneiform message from Maria Orsic to you. The text is near
indecipherable, but we have made out the phrases “captured” and
“need your help”. Find me as soon as you can.

Robert Johann Koldewey

 

P.S.Concerning the two questions that have
come to your mind, the answers are ‘no’ and ‘yes’.

No, this is not a trap.

Yes, I am planning to kill you.

 

It was surprising to find such a letter on my
desk on my first day of work at Oslo University—even more
surprising since R. J. Koldewey had died in 1925.

 

BOOK 1

THE ALPHA TAURI STRAIN

 

Spring 1933, Berlin

Wilhelm Reich

 

It’s the wrong time to be in Berlin if you’re
a communist, a hardliner, or a contrarian.

My school days in Vienna and my medical
education were far behind me. I was now in the capital city,
enjoying the harvest of my psychiatric career with the support of
my mentor, Dr. Sigmund Freud.

I had plenty of respect, fame, money, and
women.

It’s not easy in one’s career to get to this
point, but my occupation was never easy. Psychiatry is the
interpretation of data obtained by the rational and systematic
application of information to humans, and the art of making
decisions on this basis. Psychiatrists spend every minute making
decisions and putting their choices into practice. At other times,
we put them into categories, such as right or wrong, useful or
harmful. All of this is assisted by memories. An algorithmic
mistake at any of these stages has the potential to create a
problem that might be unsolvable. We psychiatrists are merely the
ones who help solve the problem before, or after, it emerges. In
all of this we must take the conditions of our patients into
account.

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