January 19, 2019

Summitate Trilogy


With a silent nod, I committed my life to stopping the extermination.

Agreeing to fight is a simple choice when the alternative is death.

My name is Nathan Tiberius Brooks, my friends call me NT.

Trust me, fleeing for your life is always a crucial moment in the timeline of your existence.

A few of decades ago, the leader of a pharmaceutical firm slid off the common-sense highway and landed in the lunatic district.

Decades of planning changed with a simple question: What do you do with six billion corpses?

An odd thing happened on the way to global domination.

People in the drug trials began to exhibit extraordinary abilities.

Dubbed the Summitate, no group, in the history of Earth, has ever possessed what the Summitate gained and now cherish.

The strike team agreed with me: Attack now, before the Summitate are a fully formed adversary.

We hit them hard, and we make it painful.

This was becoming a war for control of humanity.

This is about being able to live with myself if I do not fight.

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The strike team, my team, is the group chartered with correcting the Vivian problem. 

It is a basic human truth: People are preferential to being powerful. 

What do you do with a product that can save lives but has the side effect of granting new super powers to a select few?

Corb Levi Johnson was trying to graduate High School, chasing girls, drinking Shiner beer, and toting bales. 

With his new super powers come with new responsibilities.

Corb realized he was facing a leadership decision of primal significance. Everything up to this point had been ethereal and not tangible to his soul. 

His actions over the next few hours would alter his soul.

Undisciplined power is a dangerous thing.

It lasted about five minutes but felt like hours to the witnesses. For some, it was forty miles of bad road. For others it was a trip to the light at the end of the tunnel. A few simply did not understand the significance of what transpired before their eyes.

Marissa could move her hand in any direction expect toward her pistol. Arm and hand flailing, she was emitting guttural sounds of fear. Her expression was unqualified fear and disbelief.

Who watches the watchers?

 What happens when the watchers possess undisciplined power?

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When I met strike team several years ago, no one really wanted to kill me. Listening to the soft hum of the spaceships’ air handlers, I recollect what brought me to this point in my evolution.

I recall with much fondness. 

I look forward with trepidation and excitement.

It is easy to rationalize being naïve. 

Okay, being stupid is a way of life for me. There is no rationalizing that I stumbled into an adventure with a cast of warriors who possess exceptional skills and abilities. 

It is my role in this saga to tell you about the warriors.

Einstein was quoted as saying: If the facts don’t fit the theory, change the facts. My team, The Coterie, learned humanities understanding of physics is infantile. 

The Mayan Shaman taught Corb that  he could see the connections in his mind.  The Mayan’s taught him how to understand the connections.

Old truth: We are all connected.

Humans have always been connected, joined on an ethereal level. Humanity’s ability to use the ethereal connection has become dormant. The members of Coterie re-awakened the connection.

Through the connections, the Coterie can manipulate space-time.

New truth: Teleportation is possible.

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