Where it all began

I was born a long time ago. You may think you have been around a while, but you have no idea. It can often be difficult to know at what point to start telling your story, but for me it is clear, two hundred and thirty-two years ago, when I was just 14 years old.

The smell of melting tarmac always sends my mind floating back to the summer of 1986. It was the hottest of my childhood. In other years, I played football on the overgrown playing fields behind our street. That year was different. The blistering sun sapped energy and seared peeling skin. Many of the neighbourhood kids chose to shelter indoors. They played instead with their new Commodore Amiga computers.

It was a sweltering July day and I was passing the gates of the woodland park known as the Plantations. I was faint and dehydrated and decided it might be cooler in the shade of the trees. After leaving the path for a few minutes, I was lost and confused. I was sick and dizzy and there is a gap in my recollections covering the next couple of hours.

I awoke inside a cave, a dim light filtering in from a distant entrance. Whether I had wandered there in my delirium, or fainted and someone had carried me there, I still cannot say. It was cool and damp in the ancient cavern, almost a relief from the burning heat outside. Water dripped somewhere, and the dry lump of my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I needed a drink.

Climbing to my knees, I crawled in the direction of the light. After a minute or two, I discovered I was mistaken, and was crawling further into the depths and darkness. I panicked. Turning, my hand touched something. In the dim light, I saw a small chest, about the size of the shoebox. Despite my horror at the situation, I carried it with me towards the glow of an opening. I dragged myself out of the cave, through overgrown bushes, and back into the baking July day.

I needed a drink, so headed straight for the nearest shop. I bought two cans of a drink they used to make back then called "Panda Cola". Of course, now that panda's are extinct, it seems astonishing our species would ever have drunk them in cardonated form, but those were simpler times. I swigged both cans in seconds.

Arriving at our little terraced house, I rushed to my room and changed out of the filthy clothes. They clung to my body. I was about to turn my attention to the box when my mum shouted that tea was ready. I hid the box on the top of the wardrobe and went downstairs to eat.

I forgot about the chest until I was lying in bed struggling to sleep in the sticky humidity. I was listening to the Banter with Brian radio phone-in on my Walkman when I remembered the box. I got up, padded over to the wardrobe, pulled down my discovery and took it back over to the bed. I turned on a torch and examined the object. The wood was rotten and the metal clasp holding the lid had rusted solid. Carved in the top was a peculiar symbol. It was difficult to make out the details, as the box was so filthy, but it was something with wings, though not a bird. I looked around for something heavy to smash it open. I found an old Six Million Dollar Man action figure, and smashed it against the lock.

I heard the door to the living room open. My dad shouted, asking what I was doing. I stopped and sat listening in silence until he went back to watching the news. I looked at the chest again and saw I had managed to break the lock. Lifting the lid, I found a series of notebooks.

The next few hours, flicking through those pages under the light of my torch was one of the turning points of my life. At first glance, it was a simple description of ordinary events in the town a couple of years earlier. As I continued to read, the story developed into something like a work of science fiction. On closer examination, I found references to events and individuals, which rang true. My astonishment grew as I read into the small hours of the night. I had made a discovery of immense importance.

The blog posts that will follow over the coming weeks, cover the contents of the first of those notebooks.

I remember them. The three individuals concerned, Tom Swift, Kate Melling and Piotr Diabrowski. In 1984, the year covered in this volume, I was a first year at High School. They seemed, to my eyes at least, so mature and sophisticated, but they were only four years older. I have engaged in some minor editing of the text, adding a few details learned through my own research. I have changed the names of all people involved. The repercussions of revealing their specific identities are dangerous to those concerned.

The tale you will find on this blog is, at times, sensational. The author, according to the inscription on the front page of the notebooks, is Piotr. It reads like one of the cheaper novels you would find at an airport bookshop. There are, however, truths hidden within these pages.

These truths include indications that humanity was awakening. Developments, hinted at in this book and now plain in our society that we were entering a new stage in our evolution. We would soon achieve a deeper knowledge of our true nature.

These events occurred in an ordinary Lancashire town, the town in which I grew up. But every town is full of such stories. You only have to listen out for them.

Mesiter J.Blankface, 45th President of Earth. 24th May 2218.