Agenda Parts 1-2 The Complicity Conspiracy

By Adrian Holland

An alien encounter with a post woman, programmer and a pig during a pandemic.

What is the real reason for the pandemic, and can the alien help save humanity from the dreaded Greys...

The Greys and their minions use a secret code to communicate their plans.

Can the code be broken, and can they be stopped before humanity falls under their control...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adrian Holland
• Release date: Apr 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781909466449

Adrian Holland

Adrian is primarily known for his artwork and book cover designs, although he is also an author. Originally from Solihull, West Midlands, England, he now lives in Rural Cheshire. Adrian has written a series of five Spiritually Influenced books, a series of thirteen Science Fiction books, and a series Fantasy and Mystery books.

Book preview

The Quantum Wave

Pooka - pronounced poo-ka, comes from the Scandinavian word, Pook or Puke meaning ‘nature spirit’, which is in essence a ‘shapeshifter’ that can take on any form it chooses.

There are a lot of superstitions and customs surrounding Pookas, which can inhabit animal forms, and sometimes give great advice and make exceptional prophecies, but can also bring either good or bad fortune.

Introduction One

Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel.

Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel.

Like a snowball down a mountain, or a carnival balloon.

Like a carousel that's turning running rings around the moon.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face.

And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space.

Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!

Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own.

Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone.

Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream.

Or the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face.

And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space.

Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!

Keys that jingle in your pocket, words that jangle in your head.

Why did summer go so quickly, was it something that you said?

Lovers walk along a shore and leave their footprints in the sand.

Is the sound of distant drumming just the fingers of your hand?

Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragment of a song.

Half remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?

When you knew that it was over you were suddenly aware.

That the autumn leaves were turning to the colour of her hair!

Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel.

Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel.

As the images unwind, like the circles that you find.

In the windmills of your mind!

Marilyn Bergman / Michel Legrand / Alan Bergman

Windmills of Your Mind lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management

One

With a loud clunk, the door to the ancient Morris Traveller closed, its green bodywork set off by the wooden framing that adorned the rear section. Chrome shone in the late afternoon sunlight, belying its sheer age.

It was Parabellum’s pride and joy!

He took a glancing look back at it before leaving the small car park, and ventured onto the path, his feet crunching the gravel as he made his way towards the lock keeper’s cottage.

This backwater was his home, and he opened the wooden gate which creaked slightly as he made his way up the red brick path towards the door. Hearing the gate, Mrs. Penrose opened it to greet him, and he smiled when he saw her.

Has Charlotte been behaving herself?

Mrs. Penrose smiled back.

Good as gold!

On hearing his voice there was a little squeal as Charlotte came happily trotting out to meet him, and once she emerged from the doorway he caressed her cheeks and gave her a loving pat on the head.

I’d best settle up for the week then.

Mrs. Penrose shook her head.

Honestly there’s no need.

She felt embarrassed taking money off him, but he insisted and she did not want to hurt his feelings.

She really is no trouble.

He knew that, but he could not leave her on her own all day, and was very grateful that she had been so well looked after.

Handing over some money, she took it reluctantly, but what else could she do?

While she put it in her pocket, two sets of adoring eyes gazed at each other.

Well, I suppose I had best get you home, fed and bathed. He said.

He thanked Mrs. Penrose again before turning and walking back down the red brick path, as Charlotte sauntered along behind him.

Once they were through the gate, she closed the door behind her, as her husband Jack walked through from the back kitchen.

I suppose it takes all sorts!

She nodded.

Yes but he’s harmless enough.

Jack shrugged his shoulders.

That’s as maybe, but who keeps a pet pig named Charlotte for heavens sake?

His wife raised her eyebrows, as Jack continued.

"A proper Charlie if you ask me…"

Parabellum walked along the towpath, with Charlotte trotting behind him as they approached the lock. He then picked her up and walked across the gates, placing her back on the ground on the other side. They then walked along the gravel path until they arrived at his wide beam boat, which was moored alongside. He then waited for Charlotte to catch up before heaving her onto the deck. His boat matched the green of the paintwork on his Morris Traveller, and also had some wooden coachwork.

Soon he was standing next to the pink pig, fumbling in the pocket of his jacket for the keys.

Once inside, Charlotte made her way to the beanbag bed next to the fire and slumped down, waiting for Parabellum to light it.

This was a bit of a ritual whenever he left her with Mrs. Penrose, which was not very often. She did not like to be left alone for long periods of time, and he usually worked from home, but whenever a lucrative contract came up…

The fire was soon crackling away as he got ready to give Charlotte her bath. Pigs being pigs she loved to route around in Mrs. Penrose’s garden, but she also loved a bath!

It did not take long before she was lifted into the tub, which had been purchased specially for her like many other things.

Charlotte gave a contented grunt as the warm water was gently applied with a flannel. No soap suds just warm water to protect her delicate skin.

Parabellum was lost in thought, as he delicately cleaned the bits of grass and mud off her.

Have you ever contemplated the bigger questions Charlotte?

The biggest question on her mind was what was for dinner?

Charlotte loved her food, her bath and her bed, and most of all she loved Parabellum. He had been so kind to her ever since she was a piglet, and she adored him, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.

Taking another flannel of warm water, he continued to bathe her, as his mind wandered.

You know, I have often wondered who we really are, what we are really doing here, and whether we really are alone in the universe…

Unbeknown to Parabellum, the answer to that question lay way above him, as Xianthia, one of the Progenitors slipstreamed through the atmosphere in her craft, as the four grey bio entities sat at the controls. Xianthia was also grey, but a little different, being taller and more finely featured. This was not her true form though, simply a vessel containing her consciousness better suited to the task at hand.

This particular Human/Reptilian hybrid species had been observed ever since its creation, and had proved to be fascinating subject matter. Primitive and aggressive, and yet capable of such creativity and beauty; they truly were worthy subject matter.

Other marauding species had intervened over the years, adjusting their DNA and performing experiments upon them. That was unfortunate, and corrections had to be made. Samples were taken periodically to discover how the changes had affected them. It was all one big grand experiment, as all life on this world had been created for one reason or another.

Some of this species had come very close to discovering the true secret of their creation, speculating that there was far more to them than just an accidental quirk of fate.

Today, it was the portion known as the British Isles that provided the subject matter, as they were deemed eccentric and extremely fascinating subjects. Caution was the order of the day, as technology was advancing rapidly here due to several unfortunate crashes, and these had led to discoveries propelling this species forwards rapidly, not to mention other species intervening offering secret deals.

It was a complicated scenario to say the least, and the more complicated it became, the more fascinating it was to study. They were nothing more than a slave race which believed they were free and yet they were nothing more than lab rats!

Part of her was appalled at that scenario, and her people had been working diligently to free them from their oppressors. But that was not easy, as there were rules to follow. It was all about agreements, and these particular hybrids were always shown what was planned for them. It was down to their free will whether to agree, and by not objecting, it was deemed they had agreed.

Films and books were mostly used, along with subliminal signs placed right in front of their very eyes. Some understood reading the signs, but society deemed them Conspiracy Theorists, laughing at them. Little did they realise that for the most part, these individuals were correct.

It was hoped that one day they would be believed, and that the whole species would evolve from their primitive aggressive form to one of compassion by being spiritually awakened.

Boom!

The whole spinning disc shaped craft suddenly shook, as they hit a patch of energetic turbulence, and the feedback knocked the anti gravitation drive off balance. This was always a possibility, and the bio entities should have anticipated it, and made the correct course adjustments.

Xianthia was their overseer, and she herself should have been paying more attention instead of letting her mind wander. She quickly checked the instrument panel, which was nothing more than a curved grey surface within the curved grey interior.

Things did not look good!

Consciousness drives were delicate things, and the information flooding into her mind from her seat indicated that altitude could not be maintained sufficiently for a rebalance to be made.

This was most unfortunate, and the only thing that could be done was to attempt to bring the craft down somewhere secluded. Then when the adjustments were made, she could continue with her mission.

As she took overall control a rural location was chosen, but they were travelling far too rapidly for this to be a smooth landing. The bio entities were doing their best, limited as they were, as the craft emerged fully into this dimension. Outwardly a small glowing ball would now resemble what this species called a Flying Saucer, but it could not be helped.

They were going down, as she attempted to ease them towards the assigned location. Then another piece of misfortune struck them. From seemingly out of nowhere they collided with an object that had been launched from the surface.

The craft shook violently, as the inertia dampening fields failed, and she felt herself lurching forwards. The Bio entities were thrown asunder, many of them suffering severe injuries. Xianthia herself also felt a searing pain as she was propelled out of her seat, hitting the console with such force that she momentarily passed out, which was fortunate as the out of control craft hit the ground with a massive release of energy...

Two

Boom!

What on earth was that?

Parabellum dropped the flannel as Charlotte squealed at the sound of an explosion.

Blooming fireworks!

He was not fond of them, nor was Charlotte.

In his opinion November was always marred by them, and he considered them to be a waste of money and a nuisance; yet there was always someone who saved a few to let them off later on, purely to annoy people.

Never mind, we’ll get you dry and fed and forget all about them.

Charlotte gave a grunt at the mention of food.

Soon, she was lifted out of the tub, and felt the snug fire warmed towel wrapped around her as he started to empty it.

The tub sat on a large rug, and he had to bail out the water with the jug he had used to fill it. Everything had to be eco friendly as he was keen to do no harm to the environment.

The water was soon disposed of via the sink, and then the tub was wiped dry before he turned his attention towards his beloved companion. In his opinion pigs were far more intelligent than dogs, and made exceptionally good pets, However, Charlotte was far more than a pet, more like the child he had never had.

Relationships had come and gone, sometimes having been his fault, but mostly it had not. In his new life following the last one he did everything he could do to make up for the loss. This relationship had far more love in it than the other, and Charlotte was a lot more grateful for all of his efforts.

There was a hint of bitterness, which he was working through aided by the love and affection he received.

All in all, apart from the odd firework, life was good…

Life was far from good for Xianthia the Progenitor, who when she regained consciousness was met by a scene of devastation. Slumped bodies and wreckage lay all around her, and the craft had been torn apart by the impact, having hit the ground, skidded across a field and impacted into a copse of trees.

Her body hurt, and she could feel that as well as having several broken ribs. She most probably had internal bleeding. The bio entities were all dead, just like everything else around her. Xianthia suspected that before long the hybrids would come to investigate, salvage what they could and back engineer items. That would keep them amused for years, just like Roswell and the other crash sites.

Nothing could be done about that though, as there was no way she was going to be captured and interrogated. She had to get away and await rescue!

Slowly she dragged herself off the console, wincing in pain as she did so. Her responder thankfully appeared undamaged, so there was hope that they would be able to find her. Nano particles within her bloodstream would dissolve her body if she passed away leaving no trace of her form, but that was something she was going to delay as long as possible.

If she could find a safe place to shelter, then logically there was a chance she could survive long enough for the rescuers to arrive.

It was relatively easy to get outside, as there was a massive hole in the skin of the craft, moving her body was where the main difficulty lay!

Xianthia’s grey moulded suit would protect her from most of the pathogens, as fortunately it had not been pierced. Her wounds lay within, and she could feel them with every movement. Soon the crash site would be swarming with hybrids, so she had to struggle on. The trees would provide the best cover, although not for long.

It was really difficult to drag her body along, crouching, stumbling and wincing as she went. Trees were marvellous things to study, although this was not the time or place to do so, as she had to get away. Leaning against one she could see a small stretch of water up ahead, and if she could make it there, that would provide excellent cover.

Slowly she made her way from one tree to another before finally emerging onto the bank of what the Hybrids called a canal. Her suit was fully capable of sustaining her underwater, and the nano particles within her bloodstream were working hard to repair the damage to her body.

Falling to her knees, Xianthia rolled herself into the water with a big splash, her suit quickly adjusting to the change in temperature. The water gave her buoyancy, thankfully easing the pain somewhat. Now if she could just travel a little further away through the water then she may be safe for a while…

Charlotte felt safe and secure in the warm towel as Parabellum wiped away the last of the water, then placed her towel on the drying rack by the fire.

She was the size of a Border Collie, but weighed more like a St. Bernard, and it was a good job he was strong enough to lift her! However, there was no lifting involved, as she flopped back onto her beanbag bed, awaiting her supper.

Parabellum retrieved some items from the vegetable rack, and took Charlotte’s large bowl off the side. Pigs enjoyed a healthy diet of celery, cucumber, peppers, zucchini, carrots, squash, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, and leafy greens. Apples, grapes, and pears, were fed in moderation, as well as the odd treat.

It was a good job he was a vegetarian as this meant there were always plenty of items available. His meal would have to wait though, as pigs could be stubborn and grumpy if they were not fed regularly; and they required a lot of attention.

Charlotte had plenty of that, and looked up at him as he chopped away beside her. Life was good, and about to get even better…

Life was far from good for Xianthia, as she propelled herself as best she could through the water. She was weakening rapidly now but had to keep going, getting as far away from the crash site as she could. There was nothing she could do for the others, but they were just bio entities lacking the soul she had. Her species had evolved so far that the gap between them was extreme to say the least. They were just created to serve, lacking anything more advanced than a basic operating system. Other grey entities were of far more concern, being devious and cruel creatures. The Hybrids knew little about the difference between them or about the abundance of life there was within this galaxy and beyond...

Three

New Delhi: India has joined the elite club of countries having the ability to develop hypersonic missiles which can travel several times faster than the speed of sound. So far, only US, Russia and China had this ability.

Well?

The aptly named Colonel Speed paced around in the control room awaiting the test results. Britain was yet again lagging behind, gone from leading the world to trailing along behind it.

Not sure Sir!

The Colonel frowned.

The Ministry of Defence missile range held the hopes of several scientists along with the Colonel, that Britain was about to take a small step towards joining the others; although with such a limited budget that prospect was in serious doubt.

He continued to pace as the small team finished collating their initial data.

Sir, we appear to have missed the drone.

That was as expected, as it was literally a long shot that the test would have worked. Even in the unlikely event it had, having a working prototype was one thing, but having the counter measures was quite another.

How was anyone supposed to stop a hypersonic missile?

But, we did hit something!

The Colonel’s jaw dropped.

What do you mean hit something?

There was a brief pause.

The missile impacted on an object, and the data confirms this.

The Colonel felt a little faint!

They had made sure no commercial or military aircraft were within the vicinity, but going at such a speed, even though it was unarmed, the missile was still capable of downing one.

If news got out that Britain was attempting to join this rather exclusive club there would be trouble, but if they had hit a commercial airliner or a foreign military craft, then the repercussions would be immense.

We do have the approximate coordinates for whatever we have hit Sir.

He was handed a piece of paper, which to all intents and purposes might as well have been his head on a silver platter just like John the Baptist. But, this was no time for Bible Study. Nevertheless he did say a silent prayer in the hope of a miracle!

Do we have anyone we can send to take a discreet look?

He was hoping that whatever it was could be covered up, and that as the Americans would say, he would not have his ass handed to him on a plate…

At a safe house a two man intelligence team were conducting undercover surveillance on a group of individuals suspected of being part of a drug cartel. The unwelcome sound of a mobile phone ringing broke the silence.

I wish they had given us a different assignment.

Snead was used to spending hours on observation, whereas his new partner Knibbs was restless, being fresh out of college immature and unreliable.

Take him under your wing they said.

He’s the Bosses son they said.

It will do your career good they said.

It was a pity that they had not taken their own advice!

Answering the call Snead expected trouble, as it usually followed Knibbs around!

He was hoping that it was just Knibbs’ father checking up on him, but his instinct told him otherwise. He listened, acknowledged and then ended the telephone call.

Knibbs shuffled about impatiently.

Well?

The M.O.D. has shot something down with their missile test and they want us to go and investigate.

Snead, just like the Colonel, had grave misgivings, hoping that whatever it was, it was not a foreign military or commercial aircraft. If the press got hold of this, there would be a major diplomatic incident…

In complete contrast, Charlotte munched away without a care in the world. Bath, food and then cuddles, what more could a pig ask for?

Parabellum was busy getting his own meal, while looking out of the window and contemplating the bigger questions in life. Today had been quite satisfying, as he had fixed a computer system with a software problem. He was a programmer, credited with creating several moderately successful applications, and this provided an equally modest income for him. He was also working on something he hoped would fill a gap in the market, and provide him with a much greater reward.

Parabellum was what you might call comfortable, and able to survive quite nicely thank you very much. His fee for the weeks work would keep him going for months, which gave him plenty of time to complete his latest project.

This was an application designed to compile conspiracy theories under the one roof, so to speak. It would search out information, web sites and individuals then collate it all under one easy to use index.

There was so much information to be found, and many people interested in the subject, that he felt sure he was on to a winner…

Xianthia, on the other hand was looking more like a loser, as she was losing her craft, its crew, and now her battle for survival.

Her injuries seemed to be far greater than the nano particles’ ability to fix them; and she was becoming increasingly weaker. The buoyancy of the water was helping as she continued to make progress, but it would only be a matter of time before she succumbed to the internal bleeding.

Soon, she would have to make the decision as to whether it was worth activating her transponder, or letting the other nano particles dissolve her body into countless molecules that would dissipate leaving no trace of her existence at all...

Four

A startled blackbird flew out of the hedgerow as an equally black Land Rover Discovery shot down the country lane. Inside sat Snead and Knibbs, also known as the Undertakers due to their solemn sounding names.

This Satellite Navigation system is a joke! said Knibbs complaining yet again just like the spoilt brat he was.

Miss Direction!

Snead laughed at his own joke, while Knibbs scowled.

Are we there yet? said Knibbs, sounding more like a child than a man, as he shuffled in the passenger seat.

Will you quit complaining!

Snead was getting tired of Knibbs’ constant whinging.

According to the coordinates it should be just over that ridge. Said Snead nodding at the road ahead which sloped upwards.

I thought this job was supposed to be exciting, but so far all we’ve done is watch a group of men doing nothing all day! complained Knibbs.

Snead knew that most of their work was observation, gaining evidence and then moving