Revolution of the Gods: The Battle for Sol Book One by W.R. Hobbs Read Free Book Online Page A

Regardless of their mistrusts, they both just confirmed that they were opposed to the efforts of the C7. The general lifted his head after hearing the response and reclined in his chair. He rocked back and forth for a few moments before sitting straight up with his hands hooked around the arm rests.
    “Hauer, I have a question that may give me more insight to this larger picture. We have just conclusively proved that the Syvora Virus was manufactured with intent to cull the population. It is something we suspected for a few years.”
    “As have I general,” Hauer responded
    “I see. Well, at any rate, Dr. Courtney Leroux at Jackson Laboratories has headed up a two year effort known as Project Splicer to analyze the human cranial fragment with which I know you are familiar.”
    “I am aware of Dr. Leroux’s efforts.”
    “Well, I just received a report this morning that she conclusively determined the age to be over 5.7 million years old and it possessed all the DNA characteristics of a modern human.”
    Bracken stood up from his recoiling chair and walked about ten paces to a lithograph on the wall to the right of his desk that depicted the last battle of the American Revolutionary War at Yorktown. He pushed the bottom right corner of the frame and a tiny mini bar swiveled around from the back. He poured a glass of Scotch and gestured to offer Hauer a drink.
    “No thank you.”
    The general continued, “What do you really know?”
    The doctor leaned forward, sensing for the first time that he may have misjudged the general and some of his ilk for far too long. It was a most encouraging realization.
    “General, if you want the truth that will give you the necessary motivation to act in this planet’s best interest then here it is – your knowledge, or any human’s for that matter, about your history is fragmented at best. The C7 is only the tip of the iceberg.”

CHAPTER 07
Northern Arizona
    T he sun like a brightly glowing molten medallion was beginning its journey over the sweeping plateaus and towering mesas of Northeast Arizona. The endless vistas and rolling landscape caught the first rays of dawn painting the desert floor with brilliant variations of orange and yellow. Except for the occasional wisps of sands, the early morning ritual of Taiowa’s return to the sky was majesty in silence.
    As she ran westward, the fine desert sand rose up behind her feet like miniature dust explosions. Her spandex silhouette against the morning sun displayed a slim and toned physique. Her glossy black hair whipped above her shoulders like a thoroughbred’s mane in full stride. The reflection of Indn Route 9 rolling ahead appeared in her mirrored sunglasses covering a naturally bronzed complexion.
    Mykah had made the eleven mile run every single day for last fifteen years. It was a habit she maintained with strict discipline since she was thirteen years old. Her skin tight jogging suit was quite out of place in Hotevilla; a Hopi village located in Third Mesa where she started and ended her run each morning. But she never really received any direct criticisms. Her people knew Mykah was special and being groomed for a great purpose.
    The Hopituh Shinumu had occupied this land for over a thousand years. But, 'The Peaceful People' knew their ancestors dated back much further back than a mellennium. The Hisatsinom, or the
ancient ones
, where in this land at least a thousand years earlier. Mykah was one of the dwindling numbers of her younger generation that truly respected the traditions of her ancient people.
    Kele Tawanima was Mykah’s mentor and was responsible for her great appreciation for the teachings of the Hopi elders. Kele was an elder that chose a life of isolation living by himself about five miles outside of Hotevilla.
    When Mykah was twelve years old she came to live with her grandmother in Third Mesa after her parents were killed in a car accident. November of that year, during the Wuwuchim ceremony, she first