And Atlantis had existed tomorrow by Justin Mader (electronic reader txt) 📕

 
 With loud creak, the door opened, and my grandfather thundered, the boots full of snow, above the foot doormat and the ground of the small anteroom. He sat down on a three-legged footstool and moved according to groaning and noisy in the boots, until they finally had torn, from his feet. I looked at this so everyday procedure and could not concentrate really upon any firm thoughts if, nevertheless, there breaks like a construction worker through the wall in the house. How one should still be able to dream there.

  With the strong wind outdoors the door of wood whipped loud, on and on, until I said then, as well as every day, "Grandpa!"

 Then he looked very much surprised to me over here, as well as every day and answers: "I know", went to the door, and then closed it.

 Finally, I wanted to make him clear once that he must pay more attention to himself, because he always drank the honey wine with the name "Bear's catcher" and never was stay concentrated, because..., nevertheless, this is another chapter again.

 
 Since I knew, grandfather had a dream, a dream that he had never reached and would never reach again.
"Grandpa", I said, "you must take the life just in such a way as it is and position yourselves to the new challenges! You cannot always stop at this situation where you are!"

He smiled only mildly, and declined: "Now just do not do so precocious, when I was in your age, it was important to have wishes, ideas and dreams. The implementation, my God, that was secondary, it was important to have role models and strive to reach them!" 

 
  He took some logs which he had brought and put them into the fire. The glow that gloste pretty poor in the fireplace, got new energy and a short time later, the first flames roared again and play on the palate the new timber. The reflection of the flames on the walls showed wonderful and mysterious shadows that reminded here to an old tree trunk, but there to a mountain and on another side to an old barn. Everything was so synonymous to the situation in which we found ourselves. Outside a terrible snowstorm, but here inside, a fuzzy calm salvaged existence, which, however, was emotionally distant from reality.

  "But," I replied, "you cannot say goodbye to any reality and live only in your mind. I know you had big dreams with grandmother of a life on the road, you wanted to see the world, to move something, maybe lift the world from the fishing, but what all has become of it?"

At the thought of grandmother, he stared at me furiously, but then he dropped his gaze and tears rolling from his eyes, but he did not say anything, sat in his sofa and took a swig of his beloved beverage. As I knew the "bear's catcher" was made from a little tea, some honey but a lot of vodka and whiskey, or rather American bourbon, which was slightly delightfully and not so malt as Scotch. "Blended," grandfather commented. But even this "life experience" was merely placed and wrong, as wrong as it could only be somehow.

After all, what he and grandmother had made from their lifes. He wanted to be a great explorer and discoverer. Both had studied archeology at a young age and jointly contest the first excavations. They had been in Nazca, but also in Chucuna in Peru and in Sais in Egypt and had seen much there and elsewhere and had explored it. But then they had received evidence of an ancient secret of humanity, which they kept secret first, but then they indicated publicly and gave lectures about it. In the old records of Schliemann (ie. this one who discovered Troy), they had found allegedly references to THE big Sangraal of archeology that everyone wanted to discover with pleasure.

Heinrich Schliemann, or rather, his grandson Paul Schliemann in fact had claims that he would have found Atlantis. And in this nonsense, my grandfather and his wife had doggedly. At first, they had been ignored by his colleagues only, then were laughed and then finally there was this mysterious car accident, where grandmother died. Afterwards he was no longer the same, as I knew him. He buried himself in this humbug, courted only more in his peculiar thoughts, his delusions and his unattainable desires and above all in his "bear's catcher". Finally, he moved at this lonesome quiet, but also cold and dangerous place in the mountains in which I visited him today.

"Do you know," he said at once in the emerging silence, "that also Paul Schliemann had lost his life completely mysteriously? Do you know that there has been more than our pursuit of Atlantis that is senseless in your eyes? We had a revealed a big secret, a huge conspiracy. We were so close to it, but someone did not want that, he wanted to annihilate us ... and he did it! "
Now he wept bitterly, because of the effect of his drink, as I appeared.

"We, your grandmother and I would have done it, but we were brought off our success of our research, more than that, we were mentally and physically 'wiped out'!"

"Grandfather," I said, "but now I'm going angry. Do not start again with these spinning mills. You know that everything is not right. That all this is only conceit! To your doctors you should take the medication and not this maddening swill."

"Doctors, which doctors, those that 'help' grandmother at that time...? But if you still want to know all this one day, the documents are all in the six gray boxes above the attic ..." he murmured lost and submerged in his thoughts, lost in another, no longer existing world.

"Now it's enough for me, I was hoping that you will appreciated and you have the wisdom of age and I can reason with you and maybe celebrate Christmas. But no, you start over and over again from this nonsense here and you are, as the modern research says so nicely, 'resistant to consultation'. No, I cannot talk with you, it is useless!"

I got up, grabbed my luggage, that I had dragged here through the blizzard only a few hours ago. A quick glance at Grandfather, a few tears and... "Merry Christmas grandpa and pay attention to you", ...a brief kiss, that was it. Then I went outside, grabbed everything in my van, started it and drove ten hours through the snowstorm back home.

At this time, I was not aware that I would never see Grandpa again ......

Timeflash!

"Mr. President, please wake up!"

Obama startled awake. Had he not resigned recently? And after a party for the White House in Washington, which had ended with a charity ball at the White House. Moreover, it had richly been getting late. The Christmas tree in the oval office had already been decorated and the child eyes were every time a miraculous experience, thus shortly before Christmas.

But he was the President of the United States of America and had to always be prepared, that was his job.

"What's going on William?"

"Mr. President, we just had to proclaim DefCon3! You are not sure here therefore anymore!"

"Yes, for God's sake, William, what is the happening, the conflict in the Middle East is so critical?"
"No, Mr. President, but we have detected an unidentified flying object in our orbit!"

Laboriously taught himself to Obama, what else was not quite his type.

"And that's why you wake me up, we had that on numerous occasions in the past. As far as I know we have such a thing already parked at Area 51 and then out pretty good negotiations with them! The guys should still bother about this UFO of the Grey's!"

"Now that are not the Greys this time, we really do not know anything about the type of ship,…  and it is much more threatening this time!"

"Why?"
"Now the thing that floats in our orbit since, is about 40 miles long and had putted our communication satellites out of commission. I do not think this is a friendly act, ... but fast Mr. President, the White House, is a primary aim in such a case!"

"The members of the Cabinet have been informed?"

"Yes, Biden, Clinton, Geithner, and Gates, we have achieved, but the rest ...", he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, Malia and Sasha have already been raised? I suppose, my helicopter is ready! Then they fly us into the 'Cheyenne Mountain Complex' to our security center!"

"Sir, I will not get so embarrassed, but Cheyenne Mountain was abandoned in 2006 and even that story by helicopter is only intended for the public. Even a helicopter is an extremely worthwhile target. In the meantime, we are much more further. You remember the renovations last fall?"

Obama was not passive in the meantime, although it looked like so. However, during the conversation he and Michelle had dressed already completely and were ready to go. The children, the famous black suitcase, as well as the tools of the security all were ready. 
"Well, where to?"

"To the cellar, Mr. President!"

Through a secret door they came to a downwardly extending long passage in which, as they entered it, came on the ceiling and fluorescent lights located as if by magic began and then the floor in the longitudinal direction to move. The President shook his head slightly, but something had to smile. What his staff of technicians because everything had occurred. After about 2 km slowed the pace of the taxiway and stopped suddenly. But before them the course stretched still miles away.

Was that planned really? Had he been abducted and was about it all a nefarious plan to eliminate him? He looked around uncertainly.

But then the redemptive sigh. With a hissing noise on one side of the passage was opened and he could looked out over a larger hall. But if you looked more closely and that one could only now, as in this hall, only now the lights came, it was really a kind of platform on which stood an aerodynamic subway train.

"Here Mr. President, if you please", suggested chief of staff William Daley. When they sat down, all masks fell from the cowling. And when Obama looked up incredulously: "That are oxygen masks. To increase the speed of the train, the tube will be evacuating and then the pressure drop down and therefore it stays too low oxygen salary in the train."

The train is accelerating at breakneck speed. In the main screen you could see how the speed increased continuously. First, they climbed to 50 then 70, then 100, 150 miles/per hour, until it finally remained at about 375 MpH. 

"The speed could be realized by a Rail Gun principle.", explained Daley proudly. 
This speed of 375 MpH, which meant about 600 km/h, kept at it longer than 4 hours. The train was delayed and held in a terminal station at last. With a lift they got further into the depths.

"And where are we here now?"

"Well, but ... again ... at the Cheyenne Mountain. Officially, we have moved NORAD to the Peterson Air Force Base, but in reality we have created a new base just three Kilometers under the old", Lieutenant-General Marcel Duval smiled conspiratorially. Obama chastised him with a disapproving look. At this time, humor was the last of what they could do.

"And what are we going to do now? Four hours of travel time are well enough!"

Suddenly Duval's face darkened: "Every attempt of contact has been ignored, but nothing news!"
"By the way, Mr. Smith wants to talk to you!"

"Which now of the many Smiths in your organization?", Obama asked his CIA boss.
"Or are you meaning, THAT Smith?" 

"Exactly THAT!", David H. Petraeus was able to reply just more.

After the children and Michelle were cared for they went into one of the many meeting rooms and sat down.

Then a door opened and a small, not 1.5 meters tall figure entered the room and looked at the audience interested by his big eyes. "Good afternoon Mr. Obama, have not seen for a long time!"

Timeflash!