Thursday, January 05, 2012


SOL OCCAXUS (Sunset) Monday, 19 September, 2011

CREPUSCULUM (Evening Twilight)

I. Friday, 23 September, 2011
II. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
III. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
IV. Sunday, 16 October, 2011

VESPER (Evening Dusk)

I. Sunday, 23 October, 2011
II. Sunday, 30 October, 2011
III. Wednesday, 9 November, 2011
IV. Monday, 14 November, 2011
V. Monday, 14 November, 2011

CONCUBIUM (First Sleep – Coitus – Rest)

I. Thursday, 17 November 2011
II. Sunday, 20 November, 2011
III. Friday, 25 November, 2011
IV. Thursday, 1 December, 2011
V. Thursday, 1 December, 2011
VI. Thursday, 8 December, 2011
VII. Sunday, 11 December, 2011


I. Sunday, 1 January 2012
II. Thursday, 5 January 2012


MATUTINUM (Dawn Goddess)

DILUCULUM (Dawn Twilight)

SOLI ORTUS (Sunrise)



Clouds were forming over the distant Glarnisch as the phone call was put through and on the waters of the Zurich See, far below, the silver-haired man could see the wind whipping up the crests of small waves. The line crackled as he spoke, “Sabah el-khair, Shaikh al-Shurat.”
Sabah en-nur… mein der Freund.” The voice switched from Arabic to lightly accented German with ease.
“You would prefer to speak in German?” the silver-haired man asked.
“I was surprised at the message for me to make urgent contact with you. Are you certain this line of communication is secure.”
“What is the problem?”
“I have heard some disturbing rumours and I want assurances from you.” The voice on the phone line was harsh and abrupt.
The silver-haired man swivelled in his chair to lean heavily on his desk. A concerned frown crossed his face as he answered cautiously, “Have I not always been honest with you my friend? Have not you, and the al-Qae’da always been assured of my support?”
“Your generosity is not questioned my friend, without your support it would have been difficult to continue the jihad.”
“Well then. What is the problem?”
“The rumours, I have heard suggest that you might have become involved with some of the elements of the Badhriya opposition group in Afghanistan. Is this true?”
“Ramzi –”
“No names friend!
“You know that I believe, as you do, that the route to paradise must be littered with the bodies of the Jews and Crusaders. I fully supported the fatwa of 1998 and will continue to help you in any way I am able.”
“What is your connection with the Badhriya friend? I do not have much time. Be truthful!”
The silver-haired man's fingers gripped the receiver tightly. “I have long believed, and you know this because we have discussed it, that the control of the supply and distribution of narcotic drugs into any country is by far the most effective way to destroy its fabric. In addition, the financial benefits allow me to support those movements fighting for a new world order, such as yours. At present, the American government is putting a huge effort into eradicating the Mexican and Columbian narcotic trade into the United States and the opportunity is there to supply the market from somewhere else. It is true that I had made contact with some of those involved in the opium trade from Afghanistan but I understood they were only a marginal part of the Badhriya and the opposition to the Taliban.”
“They are vermin!”
“But useful vermin my friend. They are the carriers of the plague and may be used for our purposes. I am just walking on a different road to the same great khan as you. Trust me!”
“I trust very few people my friend. If your opium traders are in any way connected to Ahmed Shah Massoud they will very soon find that the ground beneath their feet opens up to swallow them. I would advise you to finish your business with them quickly. Give me their names so I can keep them under surveillance.”
“I will.”
“Next week when my use for them has diminished.”
“What is happening?”
“I will soon have access to a technology that will allow me control the worlds cocaine production. That power will be mine . . . ours to dispense. After that, the opium traders in Kabul will be of negligible importance. Both our ends will then be served by me giving you the names.”
“Very well. One week!”
“I thank you, Shaikh al-Shurat.” The silver-haired man’s face jerked with anger as he spoke. He did not like being pushed into a corner.
“One more thing, my friend,” The tone of voice of the man at the far end of the line had a chilling tone.
“Stay away from America next week.”
“Why? What are you planning?” he asked, as he pushed his hand back through his hair.
“Just stay away. This is my advice. The ashab al-kahf are awake. Allah ykhallik, maah es-salameh.

The connection terminated with a loud click. The silver-haired man got up and paced around the table. Stopping, he suddenly banged his fist in fury on the surface causing the papers he had been working on to jump into the air. He leant forward and touched the console button. “Fraulein Schmitt,” he growled.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Telephone a Mr Rod Mallory, in California. I need to speak to him. Urgently!”
“Yes, Sir. Is there anything else?”
“No . . . yes! Yes there is! Cancel my travel arrangements to New York for next week and the appointments that we had made in the city. Also, I want you to ask Ziffel, my broker, to come here straight away.”
“Will I endeavour to rearrange the New York appointments?”
“No. Not for the moment. Thank you.” He slumped back into his chair, rocking back and forth in it silently, before turning again to look out at the mountains.

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