THE ARCHITECT'S WEB

A town of contrast 

Archibald woke to the irritating sound of his parents' cuckoo clock in the next room. It signalled the start of another college day in his hometown of Davos. He rubbed his eyes and stretched out his youthful yet still weary body into the shape of an elongated starfish, he still felt sleepy and far from his best. He reached out an arm, and lazily aimed for the power button, poking it with an outstretched index finger. Managing to strike his intended target, he turned on the radio and played it loudly in an attempt to wake himself. A song rang out. He could not know that this would transpire to be a profound selection.

 The tune was called "Falling" and was performed by an American singer called Alicia Keys. Although he liked it, Archie was still quite grouchy. With a resigned sigh, Archibald, or Archie as he preferred to be known, sat up in his cozy warm bed, which was adorned with multiple layers of bedding. The temperature was below zero degrees outside; and he was warm in his bed and comfortable. He did not want to stir, not yet anyway. Archie ran his fingers through his disheveled platinum wavy hair and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His mind replayed the remnants of dreams that left him with a sense of restlessness, as though something profound was just beyond his grasp. As Archie‘s eyes opened, they revealed a mixture of dis-interest and grumpiness, reflecting the turbulent teenage emotions bubbling within him. He shifted under the tangled mess of blankets, his dark hair tousled, and his brows furrowed in annoyance. The dreams of the night had not been kind to him, and they lingered, leaving him feeling agitated and restless. Glancing out of his bedroom window, he casually observed the magnificent Swiss Alps in the distance where his beloved grandfather, lived alone. Archie‘s mind was preoccupied with the hope of seeing a snowfall for some snowboarding when he went to visit his grandfather Heinrich, as he did most weekends. 

The snow-capped peaks of the mountains shimmered in the morning sunlight, creating a breath-taking scene. However, having grown up in this picturesque town, Archie had become accustomed to such beauty and like many other teenagers, seemed to take it all for granted, and failed to fully appreciate his good fortune. As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and planted his feet on the cold wooden floor, he felt a pang of annoyance at the mundane nature of his current circumstances. Despite living in the beautiful town of Davos, the routines of daily life had become monotonous, lacking the excitement and novelty that he yearned for. He looked forlornly, at the many fish inside his rather large aquarium, and threw a handful of food in for them. He scattered it into the water, watching them dart and swirl round and around in circles. He saw how their lives mimicked his own life‘s daily drudgery. Begrudgingly, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen, where the smell of freshly baked bread and Swiss cheese filled the air. His parents, who were morning people, greeted him cheerfully, contrasting with his own downbeat demeanour. He mustered a half-hearted smile in response, by at least appreciating the warmth of their affection, even if it failed to fully lift his mood. 

The Müllers; Archie's family, were not among the super-rich residents of Davos, but they found contentment in their modest lifestyle. On this particular morning, Archie's father; Hans, was trying to entertain his rather sullen son while his wife Emma, prepared breakfast for the three of them. Hans was a former ski jump champion, but these days he preferred hunting, which had become his favourite pastime. He queried; 'Archie, there will be a hunt this weekend. Are you coming? We need some beaters.' The beaters' role is to create noise and movement to flush out the game animals from their hiding places and drive them towards the waiting hunters. Archie was not particularly interested as he had done this many times before. He was tired of being the beater-boy, and would rather go out snowboarding or shopping with his mother; Emma. Besides, he didn‘t like blood sports; he believed it was cruel; despite it being an age-old tradition in his country. 

Emma was nobody's fool; an attractive woman in her early 50‘s she was articulate and capable of communicating in several languages, besides her native Swiss-German. She spoke English perfectly, and French proficiently. All of the family could speak English more than adequately. Emma was accomplished in sculpture; she had retired early from her position as an art teacher at the local university, about one year before. Emma now received a modest pension; this subsidised her new career as a local politician with the S.V.P. These were otherwise known as the Swiss Peoples Party. They were considered to be right wing, and this did not sit well with the family‘s rebellious teenage son, Archie. 

Meanwhile Hans, a skilled construction worker; accepted the occasional building project, but this was more of a pastime than an obligation. Despite the opulence surrounding them, the Müllers cherished the simple pleasures of life, such as having quality time with their hobbies and with their family. Archie trudged off; anticipating another day of studying, the monotony threatening to swallow him whole. He wasn't the most diligent of students, and the classroom walls felt like a prison closing in. However, there was one bright spot in his day: Maya, the hottest girl in his year. 

Maya was fairly new to his college, having previously attended a specialist school for youngsters with particular needs, or talents‘. In other words, the local school couldn‘t cope with her, so her parents paid a small fortune for her education, which was commonplace in this district. 

Maya was also a little older than most students in the college, having recently attained her 18th birthday, the previous week. She exuded an aura of mystery that captivated him, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her. He knew he wasn't the only one who found her fascinating; other boys in the college frequently cast covetous glances in her direction, which she would either totally ignore, or respond with some unintelligible words. Apparently her family were foreign; and she was rumoured to be highly intelligent, but nobody knew much more about her; she was a lone wolf. 

Maya had never paid attention to any of the male students, including Archie. He was convinced he wasn't her type and destined to be just another face in the crowd to her. As the days passed, Archie found himself daydreaming about what it would be like to be noticed by her, to unravel the enigma that was Maya. He could not have known that fate had a few surprises in store, and their paths were about to collide in ways he could never have imagined. 

A glimmer of hope beckoned: his political science session was given a new task by his course tutor, Mr Schmitt; to study 'Slavery, its origins, and consequences‘. This subject was obligatory within his college's course curriculum. The project required them to work in two distinct groups and elect a leader to make a presentation to the entire year. They were to work in pairs initially. Archie had been chosen to work in partnership with Maya. The prospect of collaborating with her was a bit daunting but also quite exhilarating for him. Although Maya captivated the attention of many boys in the college, Archie had remained somewhat aloof to her charms. She certainly quickened his heartbeat, but she had never indicated any romantic gestures to him. Perhaps she was yet to be bewitched by him; he joked to himself. Archie and Maya communicated well together, he found himself drawn to her friendly demeanour, and the ease with which they could converse. She spoke of many unfamiliar subjects, delving into tales of mystery and intrigue that left him spellbound. 

Although he was unaware of some of the matters she described, he found himself fascinated by the world she painted with her words. Archie offered his own limited knowledge on the subject but had actually never experienced what could be described as oppression, having been raised by a middle class, Swiss family in Davos. His idea of oppression was having his snowboard confiscated for a week by his mother, for not helping with the washing-up after dinner. 

However, Maya explained another less palatable story to him. Apparently she was a Roma gypsy. Her Mother was also a Romany; she did not mention her father. Her mother‘s childhood had been very troubled, and in a far-off land. Maya barely knew own father; he had died, somehow. Archie didn‘t ask how and Maya didn‘t say. The groups shared their findings, and Maya was elected by her group to give the conclusions to the entire year; at the end of the week. The studies and discussions continued. With the weekend on the horizon, Archie's spirits usually lifted. The prospect of spending another leisurely day with his beloved grandfather at his cabin in the mountains always boosted him. He looked forward to seeing the wise old gentleman in the very near future. He mentioned this to Maya and took the brave step of inviting her to join them. She agreed that one day she would, but on this particular occasion she was attending a spiritual event with her mother. Archie now became more aware of why Maya's mother was known as an eccentric personality in Davos. 

Mayas mother‘s only visible means of income was palm reading, telling fortunes, and practicing yoga. Maya her mother and her much younger brother, Marius aged 6, lived in a beautiful old property overlooking the convention centre, in Davos. It was situated in a district where property prices were far beyond the average person‘s imagination. Archie‘s father Hans had previously met Mayas mother at the college parents evening; he had also noticed her whilst out skiing, apparently she was fearless on the slopes. He described her as being a bit of a nutcase and probably a witch; however he also commented that she was 'as hot as hell,' much to his wife's disapproval. 

Maya goes for it 

Maya was indeed her mother‘s daughter. When her time came to give the presentation to the group she went totally off-piste. "Good morning everyone." Maya began; her gaze, alight with fervour, ―Today we are going to be talking about slavery, its origins and implications. I will present my interpretation of our discussions this week. I thank you all for your contributions. There was a small ripple of polite applause from her peers.

 "It has become clear to me that some of the information we have been given here in our education is lacking in substance; and it requires closer examination. For example as some of you may know, my family is from Bosnia;. Slavic people were the very first, and also the very last people to be used in the slave trade.

 The room quietened, wondering where this was headed; Mr Schmitt raised a concerned eyebrow. ―Now, when we hear the word; "slavery," we might think it's a thing of the past, but unfortunately, it's not. Slavery exists today, and it's a reality for millions of people around the world. Many people are trapped in situations where they're forced to work, simply to eat, pay a mortgage or rent. It's heart-breaking to know that this still happens in our world today. They might not be in chains, but they're definitely not free. Therefore they are slaves. They may not be wearing shackles or whipped; but sometimes it‘s just as terrible. Sitting or standing before the same repetitive, dangerous piece of machinery, for many hours, every single day. Or picking rice in the blazing sun; covered in mosquitos or surrounded by snakes. 

I've been uncovering some aspects of my Romani heritage, and in the process, I stumbled upon something that ties us all in a shared history. We are ALL slaves; well, nearly all of us are. ―My own people, the Romany gypsies have also been used in history as slaves. Moreover, Hitler attempted to completely eradicate us from the face of the Earth. However, this fact has conveniently been overlooked by others; seeing to promote their own agenda upon us all.

 The room went silent. ―People are being trafficked across borders and forced to work in industries like agriculture, construction, and even the sex trade. Just like my mom was. She was used as a fucking sex slave, right here, in Switzerland by a man you all know, right here in this town‖ Before she could continue, Mr Schmitt, the course tutor, intervened, his tone condescending as he hurriedly interrupted her. "Maya, stop! I appreciate your enthusiasm for history but let's not veer too far off the track. Our curriculum focuses on certain historical events for a reason. Let's not complicate things with obscure issues and unproven misinformation." 

Maya's shoulders dropped a fraction; her facial expression extolling disappointment, but her determination hadn't wavered. "Mr Schmitt, I believe in understanding all of the complexities of history. They enrich our perspective. These narratives are not random tangents; they're vital to comprehend the world we live in" Mr Schmitt looked bemused by her eloquent argument. He exchanged glances with some of the other students. He felt that Maya's insistence was a nuisance and he was trying to encourage them to object, but nobody did. "Maya; sociology, Political science and history courses, are structured for a good reason. Let's not confuse everyone with wild conspiracy theories. Please, stick to the textbook." ―Mr Schmitt, The earliest records of slavery were from Egypt, if I am correct. In previous lessons we were told that the pyramids were not built by slaves but yet we are also supposed to accept that the Egyptians did possess slaves at this time. Should we blindly swallow this too and not question its logic? Do we simply believe that these monstrous rock constructions were built by a group of smiling individuals, who, even with today‘s computers and machinery would be hard pressed to build them? She paused. 

Archie could sense Maya's frustration; her desire to share a broader truth was being stifled by these rigid boundaries of an established curriculum. Despite the rebuke, her spark hadn't dimmed. She held a life experience that went beyond the confines of conventional education. ―Shall I continue?‖ Maya directed her question to the entire auditorium as opposed to seeking Mr Schmitt‘s permission to do so. He looked a little anxious, but nodded in reluctant agreement as if he could almost predict where this was headed; however he could not. ―Slavery involving Russians and other Eastern Europeans occurred before the transatlantic slave trade. Slavery has a long history that predates the transatlantic slave trade by centuries. The Ottoman Empire was involved in capturing and enslaving people from various regions, including my home country; Bosnia, and all of Eastern Europe, during its history. ―The Ottoman Empire engaged in a practice known as the "blood tax," where young boys from Christian families in the Balkans were taken as tribute and trained to become Ottoman soldiers. Russia faced the Ottoman Empire, who raided and attacked on Russian territories. These raids targeted, not only for territory, but also for the capture of people, who could be sold into slavery or held for ransom. To counter these threats and protect its territories, the Russian state developed an army. Shall I go on? Mr Schmitt sternly replied. ―Continue, but let‘s stay focussed on the subject; Maya, this is about Slavery not the Russians, the Romany people or your family. Are we clear?

 She bravely continued, ―Arab traders from North Africa and other regions caught and sold Africans to European colonial powers and other buyers. Because slavery is prohibited within the Muslim community and Muslims are not allowed to enslave others of that faith. African males were enslaved and frequently were castrated during the Arab slave trade. Females were forced into harems; basically a whorehouse, where their only reward was to be permitted to stay alive, if you can describe it as that. Mr Schmitt interrupted. ―That‘s enough Maya, I warned you before, stick to the script. This is not what we discussed or what the group were anticipating. You are sounding as if this racially biased campaign. We have come to learn about this evil trade and how the Europeans exploited the Africans not Mayas distorted version of history.

 Maya retorted. ―Racially biased? How dare you, criticise me? I grew up in a country where despite my families Hindu origins we were obliged to change our beliefs, or die. I don‘t need, want or have any religion. Yes, there‘s probably something which created our world, and people insist on giving it a name, I don‘t hold with that; it simply 'is‘. I am only interested in what is real and what is true; for example, it‘s a fact that the British Empire played a significant role in causing the end of the transatlantic slave trade and the eventual abolition of slavery. It‘s also a fact that the United States Navy was only ever set up in order to combat the threat by Barbary pirates because they all engaged in piracy, capturing ships and crews from various nations and demanding ransom for their release. They all had one thing in common, when do we learn about that?‖ ―That‘s enough now Maya. Stop! ―And he walked towards Maya in a threatening manner. In that very moment, as Mr Schmitt‘s condescending words caused the fire within Maya to blaze brighter. Her temper became a dogged determination to defeat his rigid stance. The air seemed to crackle with the immense tension of their respective ideologies dramatically unfolding before the captive audience. 

Maya's voice cut through the atmosphere like a sword, her words filled with a passion that was impossible to ignore. "History isn't meant to be a neatly packaged fairy tale. It may be inconvenient. But my desire for truth isn't something to be stifled by your prescribed content" This fearless articulation of her beliefs was a testament to her integrity. Archie sat in amazement as he watched; spellbound. Maya was standing almost within touching distance of him; marching around the lecture room, her eyes clearly displayed her frustration. The silence that followed her words was heavy with anticipation, and the entire room held its breath. 

She continued. ―Even today, people are stuck in situations where they're made to work against their will. They are trapped; they have no choice, they might not wear chains, but they're not free. Anyone who does a job they hate is a slave, only those who own the companies, and tell them what to do are free. Imagine you needed some money for food to feed your child, or to rent a home, so you borrowed it. But instead of paying back the money, you had to work for them forever, or perform unspeakable acts in order to pay the debt‖ You could hear a pin if it had dropped to the floor at that moment. She went on. ―Now, imagine if the work you did wasn't enough to pay off the debt, so you had to keep working for them. This can turn into a never-ending cycle where you're always working just to pay off the debt, and you can't really choose to do something else. 

This is what banks do. The more you borrow, the more they demand, the longer you take to pay it back, the more they want. If you don‘t pay it, you will lose your home, or starve. You don‘t even get health care in many countries. We are slaves without chains. The result is the same; we are born, we are brainwashed, we work, reproduce more slaves, pay taxes, and then die. It was never meant to be that way.

 Spontaneously, a triumphant cheer then erupted from her fellow students. The lecture-hall seemed to come alive, a chorus of voices apparently echoing her sentiment, celebrating her bravery in the face of authority. It was a moment of unity, of recognition that Maya's quest was one that resonated with many, if not all of them. Mr Schmitt, formerly the acknowledged figure of authority in the room, was now a mere shadow in the face of Maya's fervour. 

The humiliation that flickered across his features was clearly visible; a reminder that power was not immune to challenge. The dynamics of the room had shifted, and Maya stood at the centre of a miniature revolution; – a champion of truth, unafraid to confront the established norms. ―It's a situation where people are trapped because they owe money and have to work to pay it back, but the work they do doesn't really help them get out of the debt. It's like hamsters running on a treadmill. Archie marvelled at Maya's courage she had no fear; none. Her words ignited a spark of change within the room and within his own thought patterns. It was a scene that encapsulated her spirit, and another mysterious revelation was about to dawn.

 ―Imagine you're playing a game, and someone important tells you that you're winning even though you think you're not doing that well compared to your opponent. But because they're really convincing and you trust them, you start to think you're actually winning. ―Maybe it‘s a leader, maybe a President, Royalty, a big pharmaceutical company or some senior religious head. They keep telling everyone that everything is perfect; there‘s no danger, and there's no need to worry about anything. Even though some people know that things are not as they should be, they still think, well, the leader knows best, so maybe things really are fine. Those individuals who highlight the problems are silenced. Just like Mr Schmitt is trying to achieve here today. Her eyes glared at him. "I also uncovered something else that casts a different hue upon history. It appears that long before any Europeans arrived, Africans were exploiting of their own people. There were many wars in Africa, prisoners were taken and used as slaves, criminals became slaves; the Europeans didn‘t run around all week trying to catch slaves like fish with a big net! The Arab slave traders willingly sold them to the Europeans or anyone else who would pay for them.

 Her words, now painted an alternative version of history. ―There are many places in Africa which profited from trafficking their own people, or those from other tribes; Dahomey, Ashanti, and Oyo: – these are names you may never have heard of, because we are never taught about them. They shared a common inhumanity, stained by the cruelties of commerce. These African kingdoms and empires all existed in West Africa during different time periods, and they profited enormously. So who will they pay reparations to?

 ―Vikings, from Scandinavia, the French, the German Saxons, and the Romans all invaded England; and they often took the ancient Brits as slaves. When do the British get a pay off? ―And what about the Barbary pirates, from Morocco, in North Africa? For hundreds of years, they raided and took slaves from all around Europe; they even got as far as Iceland. Iceland; for fucks sake! They took the women to put in their harems and used them as sex slaves―When do we get taught about that Mr Schmitt? I must have missed that lesson

Using today‘s money, each African slave was valued on average, at 15 thousand U S dollars. History tells us that during the 380 years of the transatlantic slave trade, the African traders would have received the equivalent of 180 BILLION U S dollars. That‘s billions, not millions; just for selling their own people. When do we get to learn that? And who is it who should be paying them reparations? Please tell me.

 Inside, she was beyond furious, but concealed it well. What on Earth did she mean? Could this possibly be true? They all went silent, and Mr Schmitt became even more uncomfortable. What she was suggesting was heresy. Could it be that the practice of enslavement was solely driven by economic and political motivations? This certainly did not fit the course curriculum. But anyhow she continued. ―In 1833, when Britain tried to stop the slave trade, they faced opposition from many individuals and groups in Africa who demanded, and received massive amounts of compensation. She showed them a copy of a document supporting her claim. See? ―They were no better, and perhaps worse than, the outsiders who later came. This was always about money and power; it was never about racism. Go to my country if you want to learn about racism; in Srebrenica, where I was born, they killed over 8000 men and boys, including my father, in one single day, just because of their religion. Her words hung in the air, casting a different light on the students understanding of history. Maya had opened their eyes to a reality which they hadn't fully comprehended, where the currency of exploitation apparently flowed across all continents, not simply in Europe and the USA, as they had been previously informed.

 Maya was a beacon of new knowledge in a sea of ignorance. Archie watched in amazement, the air electric with anticipation as Maya embarked on another attempt to unveil the hidden corners of history. She continued. ―Imagine you have a big puzzle, and you're one of the people putting it together. But there are other people who are telling you where to put the pieces, but they're the ones who own the actual puzzle. Sometimes, they might tell you that you're doing a great job, even though you're not getting much money for doing all of the work for them. Then, when the puzzle is done they sell it for a fortune, and keep it all for themself‖ ―Think about video game development or the music industry. Talented creators pour their hearts into their work, yet the final say and financial gains often rest with those who own the distribution channels. It‘s always been that way‖ ―Do you think that the Great Wall of China or the Pyramids were built by volunteers in their spare time, on a Sunday afternoon? The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 54 They all had slaves, so they weren‘t just sitting around drinking coffee; were they? Most of us historically; were involved. Black, White, Asian, Romani, and many others were all responsible.. But today things have changed and not for the better; now we are ALL slaves, and the major financial institutions, are the slave owners‖ Mr Schmitt found himself faced with a decision. He knew that her unyielding quest for her own version of the truth; could not be contained within those walls of the lecture-room, particularly in this small town. Most of these students were the offspring of influential banking families or at the very least were connected with them in some way. They in turn had great influence over the college‘s management, and ultimately his employment and security. It was essential that the master quelled Maya's voice, yet again. ―That‘s enough Maya, stop now. Can somebody else do the presentation; please? We are supposed to be studying slavery not economics or speculating on wild conspiracy theories: "Sir". Maya's voice now held a blend of respect, and unyielding conviction, "I must ask, does my questioning the well-established narrative, ruffle feathers because you doubt that someone such as I; could be well-informed? Or is there something deeper at play? Maybe you suspect that a certain group of people could be orchestrating the way we are educated, in order to deceive us? Surely nobody would be evil enough to want to keep the vast majority of us in relative poverty, whilst they live a life of idleness and luxury, would they? ...Never doing a manual days work in their life; living in palaces, being flown around in helicopters or chauffeured around in bullet proof cars, or driving gold plated Ferraris? Then, they could all live on private islands; away from the likes of me; have private jets, and ignore any damage they cause to the environment, because nobody can do a fuck about it. Providing that people like the Roma, or any other poor, or working class people around the world, are kept in blissful ignorance, they will not rebel. Providing that we are treated as less than worker ants, and don‘t even know it, everything will be perfect for them. If we rise up, then things might change; so, they would need to keep us in a permanent state of state dependency and imagined slavery, wouldn‘t they? It would need to be a very clever illusion, but that‘s all it would be; an illusion, like a dream or collective insanity. Surely that wouldn‘t happen, because that would also be described as a wild conspiracy theory;‘ by you, sir; wouldn‘t it? Mr Schmitt."

 ―Let me be perfectly clear Mr Schmitt; I am free. Free to do whatever I want, whenever I want; however I want. I can do it with or without, whomsoever I choose. And, there‘s not a fuck that anyone, anywhere, can do about it, except by using physical force. Even then, I will not back down; they will need to steal my last breath before me, or my mother, will ever submit to this existence. This is not freedom, this is not life; this is slavery. And with that she sat down. 

Archie‘s attention was riveted. Maya's words were like a bolt of lightning in the room, electrifying in their audacity. The master's reaction oscillated between surprise and defensiveness, his façade of authority was crumbling rapidly under the weight of Maya's outburst. The master's final response was a sputtering attempt to maintain composure, but the damage was already done. Maya's fearless articulation had laid bare some unspoken truths. Her questioning wasn't just about curriculum; to her this seemed personal like a vendetta. Archie admired Maya's strength greatly; – how she stood her ground, unapologetically challenging a system that needed to be challenged; but why? This exchange was more than an interaction; it was the best lesson ever! From that moment onwards Archie had learnt that questioning authority, challenging biases, and embodying the fearless pursuit of truth had the power to shatter even the most entrenched norms. And as the master faltered in the face of Maya's unflinching integrity, the entire group went silent. Mr Schmitt was horrified. Maybe she had struck more than one raw nerve? 

Archie marvelled at Maya's audacity. He watched as Mr Schmitt‘s expression wavered between surprise and consternation, caught off guard by Maya's fearless words. The members of the group's initial surprise and silence had now transformed into something larger – rebellion. An open dialogue broke out, questioning traditional beliefs and ideas to create change. The audacious spirit that had fuelled Maya's tirade was now aimed at the highest echelons of authority. Mayas pursuit of the truth was more than just an academic endeavour; it was a challenge to the status quo, a declaration of war. Her pursuit of knowledge was intrinsically tied to challenging all biases within society, not a carefully selected few of them. She was not accepting anything less. 

Frau Schneider 

Maya was sent to the head of the college by Mr Schmitt. She was to face the final frontier of authority. Archie watched as Maya, her focus undiminished, strutted out confidently towards her next battleground with a determined grace. In the office of the head teacher, Maya confronted the embodiment of the establishment. Her voice was steady, her gaze unflinching, as she addressed the very heart of the system that sought to silence her. In the Heads room, Maya knew that this was ‗final decision‘ time. Should she now show some humility? She paused, indicative of some nervousness but it was simply a carefully considered response. In this high priesthood of academic authority, the headmistress; Frau Schneider‘s stare was harsh. She was a fearsome looking woman. Grey hair, complete with a blue rinse, a beige pullover which had seen better days and derided her generous income, complete with scuffed brown leather brogue shoes; she had a musty aroma which reminded Maya of an old peoples home. ―Maya, I have received a very disturbing report about your behaviour. I am not happy about it, and have already reached my conclusion. This is not the first time we have had problems with you. You will have to go; I will inform your mother‖ Maya interrupted her, she began cautiously at first; her words a mixture of challenge and inquiry. "Frau Schneider," Maya's voice carried an undercurrent of both respect and audacity "is it conceivable, that Mr Schmitt‘s resistance to my perspective stems from a disbelief that a Roma gypsy like me, could possess such a depth of knowledge? She continued, ―Could there perhaps also be an unspoken bias influencing your own reaction? Additionally, I am an adult. You will not be contacting my mother, for any reason without my consent. Maya's words pierced the air like a lightning bolt that struck at the heart of the matter. Even Frau Schneider's composed façade; wavered for a moment, her surprise and defensiveness evident in the shifting of her expression. Maya's statement had cracked open a door that led to a realm of unexamined assumptions. Frau Schneider attempted to regain her equilibrium, yet the sting of Maya's comments lingered in her ears. Maya had unveiled a layer of complexity that lay beneath the surface, the very fabric of institutional racism. Frau Schneider spoke sternly;  Addressing the issue of unconscious bias, was commendable; however for you to be impertinent, is not, and this college will not tolerate it. Do you understand? This applies to you, or any other student, regardless of their background. ―Even though I wasn't present, I believe that you were simply confronting Mr Schmitt‘s authority. This is not acceptable within this establishment. It will not happen again, you are finished here. Collect your belongings, and leave the premises immediately. "I was only speaking the truth; he knew it. You know it too". Maya had heard enough.

"Everyone had slaves, and everyone was involved; it was always about commerce, never racism, and it still is today. All you are achieving, or seeking to, is dividing those still in this delusion of perpetual captivity". Maya pressed her point. 

And as the headmistress grappled with Maya's comment, she knew that this exchange could leave an indelible mark on the institution itself, reshaping the courses very essence. She could not back down now. This indeed was the whole point of Mayas presentation. The encounter with Mr Schmitt was an embodiment of her relentless pursuit of truth and justice that Maya held dear. She cared not about the consequences; and why should she? But Maya was not finished. Her anger surged like a tempest, her voice resonating with a potent force that echoed through the room. "Frau Schneider". Her words were now a torrent of unwavering conviction. ―Before I leave, allow me to explain why I said it. I am not just a gypsy; I am a free human being. I am also a culmination of rich heritage; my father boasted one of the highest recorded IQs in his country, he was an international chess master too. From him, I've inherited an intellect that pierces boundaries. And, my mother‘s relentless passion for truth and freedom, courses through my veins. Is it, perchance; this amalgamation that intimidates you?" Maya's latest speech was a force to be reckoned with, that transcended the accepted boundaries of the room. Frau Schneider, her composed veneer challenged by Maya's fierce stance seemed, yet again, momentarily taken aback. The atmosphere pulsed with Maya's perspective on life and her present situation. Frau Schneider's response became a faltering attempt to regain control, yet the power of Maya's words lingered like a storm refusing to be quelled. Maya's potent articulation had exposed not just the curriculum's limitations, but the very prejudices that lurked within the institution. If accepted, Maya's formidable challenge would ripple through the corridors of academia, forever altering the course of understanding and inclusion‘. Maya smiled; sarcastically. ―I want you to leave. Now. Right now, get out!"

 Maya sneered. Then she walked. She deliberately displayed an arrogant and mocking smirk upon her face. The head correctly sensed that more trouble was coming. And then, in a gesture that encapsulated her utter contempt, Maya extended her middle finger towards the headmistress. Maya turned away from Frau Schneider, her eyes defiant and exuding disgust. In a moment that cut through the tension like a blade, she hurled a final condemnation. "Frau Schneider." her voice was laced with a mixture of scorn and fury. "You are cut from the same cloth as Hitler. You perpetuate the same mentality that history should have vanquished." Her words were a damning indictment, a final rebuke that also echoed centuries of Romany oppression. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with a palpable sense of this confrontation. But Maya's departing act was still not complete.

 In a final, haunting moment, she spat on the floor at Frau Schneider's feet, a symbolic act. And with that, she turned on her heel and left, the door closing behind her with a resounding finality. As the door slammed shut, there was an eerie silence, broken only by Maya's fading footsteps. And then, in a whisper that seemed to curl through the air, Maya invoked a Gypsy curse, her words laden with centuries of mysticism and power. "May your wagon become unhitched, may your horses run wild, may your campfire be doused, and may misfortune follow you all the days of your life." The curse's intention was clear – to bring about chaos, upheaval, and misfortune to Frau Schneider's existence. Maya's departure was a symphony of defiance – a cacophony of obscene gestures, unintelligible words, and hysterical laughter that reverberated long after she had gone. Maya's departure from the room was marked by a seismic shift in the atmosphere, almost simultaneously, and as if by magic, a tempestuous storm erupted outside. Maya headed out directly into it, and stood outside the window of the headmistresses‘ room, staring inside through the window at her.

 Come to the dance

 Mayas visible fury developed into hysterical giggling which seemed to carry on the wind, a resounding melody, sent shivers down spines of those within earshot. The storm raged around her, rain pouring in sheets, drenching her until her clothing clung to her like a second skin. Each lightning strike revealed her silhouette, a seductive and elusive figure, seemingly dancing in tune with the elements. Maya then crossed the college car park, until she reached Mr Schmitt‘s room, her laughter now a wild crescendo that seemed to shape the storm itself. Rain cascaded from the heavens, drenching her until her clothes were completely saturated, but still she laughed. 

Each drop represented a note in the symphony of her untameable fury. With every peal of thunder, it was as if her laughter mingled with the heavens, her defiance seemingly becoming the very eye of the tempest. As the weather raged outside, many students within the lecture-room were gripped by fear. The sudden and relentless rain, the deafening thunder, and the blinding flashes of lightning conjured an atmosphere of unease that hung heavy in the air. Whispers of uncertainty passed between the students, their eyes darting towards the windows that framed the tumultuous scene outside. Maya stood there proudly; dancing, pirouetting; like an insane and demonic ballerina. She became a whirling dervish: a mesmerizing dance, her continuous turning movement repeated in the rain, she looked upwards to the heavens as if in the rhythm of creation itself. Her attire; a vibrant fusion of colours, her flowing skirt adorned with richly embroidered patterns, and her blouse shimmered with the intricate beadwork. A cascade of trinkets adorned her hair, creating a melodic jingle as she moved. Her presence alone exuded a sense of free-spiritedness and individuality. Her arms, and her skirt, billowed around her like a kaleidoscope; and music began to play but it was impossible to identify from where it came. 

But amidst this chorus of trepidation, Archie stood apart. Instead of succumbing to fear, he found himself entranced, a silent witness to the primal dance between Maya and the creator. While his peers trembled and exchanged anxious glances, he was overcome with a sense of awe, a deep respect for the force of nature that certainly seemed to bow to Maya's command. She had enabled him to become aware of the most precious thing in the universe; freedom. The other students around him shrank from the windows, their expressions etched with dread, yet Archie couldn't tear his gaze away. Maya's laughter, even now, riding the winds of the storm, resonated in his chest like a melody of defiance and warning. In that moment, fear and fascination intertwined within him, creating a mixture of emotions he had never experienced before. Maya's figure, drenched by the relentless rain, was a haunting sight against the backdrop of this monsoon. The flashes of lightning continued to paint her in stark relief, casting her powerful figure, unyielding amidst the chaos.

 Archie suddenly felt a strange sense of kinship with this incredible young woman who seemed to command the elements. It became too much for him to tolerate any longer. He threw down his book, which flew across the floor, in the direction of Mr Schmitt, striking a metallic wastepaper bin with a resounding thud. Archie screamed at him... ―You caused this. You fucking Nazi book burner! Screw your course, and fuck this place. I‘m out of here‖. And he ran to join her in the car park where they embraced, not as lovers, but as comrades in arms. Together they danced and swirled in motion, then Maya and Archie, laughing in unison beckoned the other students to join them; one by one, in dribs and dabs, the students went to them in the rain, gathering in a circle, forming a unity that mirrored their interconnectedness and that of all beings. They all faced towards Maya and Archie, with their eyes closed or softly focused upon them. She guided them, displaying a posture which at first was relaxed in a yogic manner, with hands held at her side, palms turned upward as a sign of receptivity to divine blessings.

 Then she led them, dancing in a circle; around and around and around. It was a rendition of Zikr, a Mystical Sufi Dance with its origins in Chechnya but had today been imported to Switzerland; and the young students relished it. It began slowly at first, with a gentle, repetitive chant, Mayas voice called out sacred phrases, and the names of Roma spirits. Meanwhile she was accompanied by the rhythmic clapping of the groups‘ hands, and the stomping of feet; a hundred or more young adults rotating in a circle around her. The beating of a drum kept the pace as they continued the spectacle. Amidst the circle, a solitary figure stood with head bowed and heart open. Her hands, held just above her heart, quivered with anticipation. The sacred words, etched into her memory like runes of ancient magic, spilled forth from her lips in a melodious cadence. Each syllable seemed to reverberate through the very fabric of her being, resonating with a rhythm that was both familiar and profoundly transformative. 

As the chanting continued, a current of energy moved through the circle, binding them in a shared enchantment. They swayed gently, their movements a synchronized dance of devotion. Like droplets of mist, their collective energy intertwined, rising and falling like a tide of emotion, a tide that flowed not just within them but through them, connecting them to the mystical realm of the unseen. Gradually, the rhythm shifted, and a single drumbeat began to pulse through the air. The participants' movements grew more pronounced, a slow and deliberate choreography of the soul. The solitary figure's closed eyes revealed a multitude of colours, as if her very essence was painting the canvas of the universe with hues that were beyond the spectrum of ordinary sight. As the drumbeat quickened, their swaying took on a new intensity. The car park seemed to vibrate with the resonance of their motion that bridged the gap between the earthly and the ethereal. The solitary figure's heart pounded in time with the drum, a rhythm that merged with her own heartbeat until the boundaries between her flesh and the pulse of the cosmos dissolved into nothingness. And then, as if caught in a whirlwind of existence itself, they each began to move with a fervor that bordered on ecstasy. Their forms blurred as they spun, an enchanting pirouette that defied the laws of gravity. This solitary figure, caught in this maelstrom of movement and sound, become a conveyance of timeless energy that flowed through her. 

In that transcendent moment, the barriers of self, melted away, and she was no longer just herself but a part of the ancient continuum of seekers who had danced this dance for generations. The sacred words, the chants, the rhythm— they were no longer mere expressions, but incantations which seemed to connect mortals with the divine. The movement was deliberate, in harmony with the chant's rhythm, the purpose being to integrate physical and spiritual aspects and transcend the boundaries of the material world. It was a state of group hypnosis they had each experienced in a nightclub before, but never in the rain in a car park at college! They were no longer simply passive observers but part of something larger, something primeval. They witnessed and became part of a fusion of human spirit and super-natural forces, in a world she had manifested around them. Some participants entered states of deep and heightened awareness. Their movements became more intense, incorporating swaying, spinning, and dancing. The movements broke down the barriers between the self and the divine, allowing them each to experience a sense of oneness and unity. 

A few students entered a state of trance, where their individual identity merged with the collective energy of the group and later claimed to sense a divine presence. They even lost awareness of their surroundings and experienced a profound sense of spiritual ecstasy and connection. As the drumbeat faded and the chanting gradually ceased, the circle of seekers began to slow their movements, their breathing deep and resonant. The solitary figure, standing at the center of the circle, opened her eyes. They shone with a radiant light, a reflection of the inner fire kindled by the dance. The atmosphere was one of serenity and joy, as they subsequently reflected on their spiritual journey with Maya. She explained; ―The Zikr dance is a powerful practice that goes beyond mere physical movement and chanting. It's a pathway to transcendence, a way to dissolve the ego and connect with the deeper realms of existence.  Through the rhythmic dance and the repetition of sacred words, we seek to uncover the hidden truths of the universe and to experience the divine presence within themselves and all creation.

 Ms Schneider and Mr Schmitt did not engage; however he at least, was sorely tempted. 

What next? 

Archie's college adventure that day, ended with his own expulsion too. Despite his parents' frustration, he stood his ground. Whilst he talked about getting a job, he never actually pursued one. Instead, his days revolved around Maya, walking, talking, cycling, taking coffee, snowboarding and picking mushrooms; very special and fresh, ‗wild mushrooms‖. Now, they both faced a lack of direction, but they dealt with this uncertainty as a team. Archie was fascinated by the way their paths seemed to align. As Maya shared her insights and his own understanding grew, a symphony of truths unfolded. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 78 As the days turned into weeks, Archie and Maya's friendship flourished like a magical potion being expertly brewed He sensed that Maya may one day, want to get a little closer, yet he could also be quite intimidated by her. He wasn‘t sure if he wanted that intimacy, but would deal with the matter; when, and if it arrived. Maya‘s awareness of life seemed way beyond her tender years and she could sometimes exude what others perceived as an air of authority. Archie had not seen Maya show any interest in the boys whilst they had been at the college; yet he was now selected for special attention by her. Yet, as affection began to develop in his heart, he grappled with his emotions. He was really growing to adore this incredible girl. Their friendship was unlike the conventional romances he had previously witnessed amongst his peers. Archie and Maya shared an exceptional bond, founded on common dreams, deep understanding, and a growing respect for each other's individuality. Archie believed their love went beyond mere passion; it wasn‘t restricted to stolen glances or sweet whispers. Archie cherished every moment he spent with Maya, and their laughter seemed to resonate across the universe. As they delved into each other's thoughts, hopes, and dreams, they became an inseparable team, intertwining their lives in a way that surpassed the norm. Maya's captivating presence left Archie in awe. It was almost as if she held the keys to the universe's mysteries. Her aura commanded respect and admiration, an exceptional blend of intelligence, physical beauty, and charm that both intrigued and occasionally left him feeling a bit overwhelmed. This unique combination sparked an undeniable fascination for her. In the college, where fleeting romances had been centre stage, Maya had remained elusive, uninterested in the advances of her many admirers. However, to Archie's astonishment, it was he who had now caught her eye, chosen as the fortunate recipient of her attention. He felt honoured. Maya opened up to Archie in ways she had never done with anyone before. She confided in him, sharing the deepest corners of her heart, revealing her pain and anger.

 Archie, listened attentively to Maya's story, and provided her with a comforting refuge for her emotions. During their conversations, Archie asked Maya about her parents. He knew who her mother was; he had noticed her around in Davos, everyone knew who she was. Maya's mom was quite different from most of the inhabitants of the area. She looked, dressed, and acted differently; as did Maya. He pointed this out to her. Maya replied, ―There‘s a reason for that; She‘s not from Switzerland. She‘s from Bosnia. Mother‘s family were Roma. We are gypsies‖. ―What exactly do you mean by ‗gypsies‘‖? ―You know; crystal balls and all things like that. She smiled beguilingly. My… my father is from Bosnia too, but he was killed. "I never realized," said Archie. ―Why should you?" asked Maya. Archie was silent. Not knowing how or if to respond. "Do you want to know?" she asked. " sure, it's okay." ―We were born in a country now called Bosnia and Herzegovina. It was then called Yugoslavia. Do you know about it? ―I‘ve heard about it, but I don‘t really know anything. I think there was a war, but I know nothing really,‖ answered Archie honestly. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 80 Maya explained ―She was born in Srebrenica, a town in eastern Yugoslavia; it was the scene of one of the worst massacres. Our people were known as Bosniaks. They were a mixture of nationalities; Bosnian, Serbs from Serbia and Croats from Croatia. Mother‘s family are originally Romany people, they came from India or that part of the world. We‘ve been here for centuries. As I said in that presentation; in World War 2 the Nazis tried to kill us all, nobody seems to know that‖ Archie innocently replied, ―My grandfather was in the war; he wouldn‘t try to kill you. He is German though, but he is a pacifist. He used to work in a museum and was a curator I think. Maybe he used to polish Hitler‘s statues or something like that‖, he laughed whilst imagining his dear grandfather doing such a laborious task. "Anyway, yes; there was a war. There was far more than a war, and hardly anyone knows, or remembers a thing about that either. It was the worst thing that ever happened on this planet; worse than the two World wars. It was once a beautiful place, but it turned worse than Stalin‘s Russia, worse than Cambodia or anything. And my mother survived it. She is a true warrior. She is an Angel, she is my hero." "Not only that; but she survived this under the most incredibly difficult circumstances anyone can imagine. And she still came out of it, took care of me, and became one of the kindest people anyone could ever meet. Shall I go on? She smiled again, but there were tears of sadness in her eyes." "Yes please, but again only if you want to" He softly responded. "When she was young, the war started, we were once a strong country, Yugoslavia that is; we were very similar to Russia, or even China, but without their technology, or oil. We traded in competition with places like Germany, France, or even more like the UK which is made of four nations. Yugoslavia was a group of six smaller countries working together as one; they were a bit like Great Britain, or even the United States. Anyway, when the leader President Tito died, it fell apart. Everyone wanted power. There was a long period of instability; each group and country within Yugoslavia used excuses to take control. My country decided that they wanted autonomy, to be self-governing, we wanted our freedom from the others but they wouldn‘t allow this, as is often the way with large organisations, everyone was fighting each other. Very few places escaped destruction, and did what they called; ethnic cleansing.

 Basically it means to eradicate the race of people until not one of them is left alive, men, women, children, even babies ― "Who did?" inquired Archie. "Well, I‘m biased, obviously. I don‘t want to blame anyone in particular, the whole place just turned to shit. Then the worst thing happened to mom, I‘m not sure how old I was, maybe about five. Zara, my grandma; vanished; totally. She completely disappeared without a trace. She was out getting groceries one day and never returned; Ever. 

 Maya paused before continuing. ―Granny was a special witch; they say she had exceptional powers; that‘s where mom and I get it from. We don‘t know if grandmother was killed in an accident, or shot, or kidnapped and taken prisoner, or ran away to somewhere safe like Switzerland... Imagine that as a child! And this was during a fucking terrible war!!‖ ―My grandfather became a soldier, a resistance fighter. He killed many of the enemy. Mom killed quite a few too ―Oh my god" Archie responded, feeling very shocked at her comments, but trying to absorb it all. ―My grandfather is like an angel too" said Archie. "He is my hero, but he just lives in the mountain, and has goats. He worked in a museum when he was young and used to ski; He could never do anything like that, he‘s too kind and gentle. Maya responded, slowly and thoughtfully. Yes, she‘s not proud of it but it was essential. Your grandfather is very lucky. He never lived in a hell-hole when people come to kill you and everyone who looks like you, or thinks like you, has the same dark skin, or the same religion. Indeed, he is very fortunate and sounds like a wonderful man. In many ways, I admire the simplicity of his life. Archie replied, ―Anyway, that‘s enough about my grandfather. Please tell me more about your mother. What‘s her name? ― "Her name is Ivana. It‘s unusual here, but quite common where she comes from. She changed it when she arrived here; nobody seemed to like the fact that she was a refugee, especially a gypsy one, so she changed her name too. It was her way of saying, ‗Fuck you all;‘ I am me! She already knew many things; which the Swiss people have no idea about. We are Roma; we have magical powers… as you saw at the college. She wiggled her fingers in his face as if casting a spell, and she laughed aloud at his astonishment. ―That‘s when she met that ‗C…‘ Erm. There‘s a very bad word that I would never use to describe anyone... But he is one!! We met him, when my mom and I were in the refugee camp. His name was Mr Jeffrey something or other. He had a girlfriend called Elaine I think‖ Anyway, they tricked my mom into working for Mr ….. 

Maya stopped; as suddenly as if she had been hit by a truck. Oh, I can‘t tell you his name either. Mom made me promise never to name them. He employed my mom as a house cleaner, a cook, and many other things... Too many other things; and that's where my brother comes from. When my mom got pregnant he didn‘t want to know her. My brother was born, and we had nowhere to go. Anyway, he‘s well known, very well known. He is in banking." "Oh! He works in a bank. Is he important?" naively inquired Archie. ―No. He owns them; several. He owns the fucking banks and about half of the planet. He simply gave my mother the apartment we live in; and told her to be quiet about my brother. Every year some money is paid into mom‘s old country for her; so that it can‘t be traced back to him. He wanted her to get an abortion but she refused. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 86 She says all life is precious; so even under those circumstances she wouldn‘t get a termination, but when he realised this, he got very angry. He told mom that if ever she told anyone of his origin, he would have us all thrown out of a cable car. He is evil. I never want to see him, or speak to him. I will only be happy when he is dead. Then my mother will finally be free." "That‘s quite a story," said Archie, finding it all impossible to imagine. Maybe she was making it up. It couldn‘t be true, could it? He was completely shocked. It seems that nobody wants to accept us for who we are, so now we don‘t give them that option. We are not victims; we are simply being us.‘‖ My mom taught me never to be a victim. To never feel sorry for you no matter how difficult things may seem. To help others but only if they want it, and to allow them to make mistakes, sometimes it‘s the only way we can learn; by fucking up‖ Even though he did not fully understand, Archie felt it prudent to nod his head and smile indicative of his approval. Their bond grew even stronger and Archie's heart swelled with admiration for Maya's resilience and strength. He knew that his role in her life went beyond that of a typical friend; he offered her trust, love, and understanding in a world that had once been dark and uncertain for her. Archie cherished every moment spent with Maya, and she with him. Their laughter echoed as they delved into each other's thoughts; hopes and dreams. Their friendship stood as a testament to the magic of a genuine connection. And so, their friendship seemed destined to last for eternity. One day, Maya caught Archie off guard with her straightforwardness. "Archie, have you ever wondered why I never paid any attention to the other boys when we were at the college?" Archie, usually composed, didn‘t know how to respond. He tried to make light of it. ―I guess I‘m just lucky and he blew her a kiss. He was not expecting her following comments Maya's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yes, I suppose you are lucky, just like me. You see, life isn't always a walk in the park when you're a mixed-race lesbian. Life can get pretty lonely." Her words struck a raw nerve. ―A lesbian! What the fuck? You can‘t be, you‘re gorgeous!‖ Archie‘s disappointment was obvious, but his mild irritation eventually softened into curiosity; but he paused before replying. "I can't even begin to understand your struggles," he commented. He had no idea what else to say. Maya leaned in, her voice low and confessional, "Don‘t pretend that you knew, Archie. You are so cute though. I've always wanted a gay male friend, someone who truly listens and understands and stands by me. It also tends to keep the horny boys from hassling me too. And you, Archie, you're like an angel; making my life more bearable. You never tried it on once. I‘m really grateful for that" Archie was taken aback, touched by her vulnerability and apparent honesty but unsure exactly what she meant. She was gay? Wow. And she thinks he is too; she really is crazy. 

As they continued their conversation, he reflected on her words and his own attractions. He hadn't really ever thought about his own sexuality, but deep down, he knew there was something different about himself. But Maya made him feel less different; a connection which he couldn't quite explain. As Archie considered Maya's heartfelt words he felt a wave of introspection wash over him, leaving him with a sense of uncertainty about his own identity. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 88 Was she right? He didn‘t know. Either way he wasn‘t very happy about it. For the first time since he had met her, she had annoyed him; immensely. He felt deceived. Why didn‘t she tell him previously? That night was a very restless night for him. Possibly for her too, but Maya seemed at peace with what she had told him. Archie however had these thoughts chewing through the walls of his mind and reasoning, all night. He had many bad dreams; he often had them. His parents had once taken him to the doctor about them; the medics described them as ‗night terrors‘. One doctor said he would grow out of them, and they were caused by anxiety. Anxiety he thought, my life is near perfect, what do I have to be anxious about? In comparison to Maya or her mother, or the people he met in the refugee centre, his life was indeed near perfect. He felt very ashamed; for the first time in his rather privileged existence he felt humbled. The next morning he called Maya and asked to meet with her. This was very unusual but he told her that it was important. She agreed, and they met for coffee. Archie started nervously. ―I‘ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. It made me quite angry, so I went home and tried to understand why it got to me so much. It‘s driving me mad, because I also think that I‘m in love with you ― Maya waited a few moments. For the first time, she did not seem confident in her response. ―Archie, I love you too, but I‘m a lesbian. I am attracted physically, only to females; but I came to you because the universe told me to, maybe for this very reason. I understand what you are saying and to me it makes no difference. I love you like a sister should love her brother; like the earth loves the sun or the rain. I will be supportive; I'm here for you.  Archie replied, ―I'm scared of how my parents might react, especially my dad. He will be furious. My mom will be heartbroken. I just know it, I don't want to hide it from them, but I'm feeling trapped.

 Maya tried to console him, ―take your time, and decide when you want to talk to them. There‘s no big rush is there? You don‘t have to ever tell them if you don‘t want to. It‘s none of anyone else‘s business but your own‖ Archie responded quite aggressively. ―I‘m angry; it's not fair dealing with this. They are fucking Nazis. I hate Nazis, Maya was shocked by this comment, but tried not to show it to him. ―What do you mean? You‘re not alone and many people love you. Especially me and your grandfather‖ Archie became more forthright, with his confidence suddenly building. ―My parents are Nazis. They support the SVP, the Swiss Peoples party. They hate gays and immigrants‖ Maya paused again. She just smiled. ―Do they hate me, or my mom? Not everyone is a Nazi who doesn‘t like foreigners, some are scared, and others are just stupid. Many have a good reason; or it seems like one to them. They don‘t like things to change. My mother‘s family didn‘t want change either, they were quite happy until the Serbs arrived. She does a lot of work at the refugee centre, but it‘s not as straight forward as you seem to imagine Archie. Sometimes things are not as they seem. Be true to yourself, be kind, and surround yourself with people who love you for being who you are. Also stand up for what is right; if need be, fight for it. My mother could fire a Kalashnikov by the age of 12; remember; she hasn‘t always been a hippy! ―She smiled again. ― The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 90 ―Did you tell your grandfather? He sounds like a very wise man? Archie replied; ―No I didn‘t yet, do you think I should? ― Maya concluded. ―It‘s your choice Archie, we all have a choice, and we all need to face the consequences of those choices. That‘s what being an adult means. Or it should do anyway‖ Archie responded; ―I really appreciate your support, it means a lot. I will tell him next weekend. I hope he‘s ok about it, I‘m sure he will be. He‘s not a fucking Nazi, like my parents‖ The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 91 Maya smiled knowingly, and they went their separate ways. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 92 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 93 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 94 Shall I, shan‘t I? Archie‘s favourite moments had always been the Sundays he spent with his wise maternal grandfather Heinrich, in his mountain cabin. Generally he struggled to formulate a close bond with either of his parents, despite each of their best efforts. He particularly did not support his parents' political views; and like many adolescents before him, defied their opinions and advocated the reverse, albeit he had no experience, and he was still too young to grow a facial beard. This Sunday was no exception; as he ascended the winding roads the tranquillity of the mountains enveloped him. Heinrich, was now well into his 90s but was still strong, and sharp minded, he greeted Archibald by using his full birth name, and offered a warm smile. Together, they sat on the porch, occasionally making small talk but more often simply admiring the breath-taking view of the valley below. 

Heinrich was a man of few words, but his silent presence spoke volumes. In their shared moments of quiet contemplation. Archie learnt many valuable lessons from this kindly man. They would go on leisurely walks, their steps seemingly in tune with nature. Heinrich would share snippets of his life, his love for the mountains, and his belief in the power of perseverance. The sun began to set; casting a warm golden glow over the landscape. Heinrich placed his mug of coffee down on the stained coffee table. He stretched out his legs and his entire body, until his spine cracked into its correct position. He turned to Archie with a knowing smile and spoke softly. "By now, you will realise that life is not measured by the wealth one accumulates, but by the love one shares and the world one creates‖ Archie looked back into his grandfather's aging eyes, and replied. "Yes grandfather, I'm learning'. Grandfather; he paused. There‘s something I need to talk to you about. It‘s important to me, for you to understand. ―He nervously returned the smile. ―You have a girl in the town? I knew it. It‘s about time too! My only wish is for you to be happy, and for me to live to be old enough to meet my first greatgrandchild. But don‘t be rash Archie; don‘t do anything I wouldn‘t do. He smiled a huge toothless grin. Archie was floored. He didn‘t have the heart to break the old man‘s smile, he made excuses, and calmly said goodnight. Those words resonated deeply within Archie, leaving an indelible mark on his journey. This was the last meaningful conversation ever held between them, although neither was to know this before Archie set off; on his exhilarating snowboard journey, towards his family‘s home. As Archie bid farewell to his grandfather, and descended from the mountains, he carried with him a newfound appreciation; for simply being true to himself as Maya had advised, although he was more than a little concerned about his grandfather‘s eventual reaction when he, his only grandchild, broke the news one day. There‘s no rush, Archie concluded. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 96 Archie recalled Mayas kind words. He made a conscious effort to appreciate the simple joys of his modest existence. He came to understood that true wealth lay not in material possessions, but in the richness of relationships, the beauty of nature, and wisdom passed down through generations. And so, with each passing day, he made a conscious effort to appreciate better his surroundings, and therefore he discovered the extraordinary power of an ordinary life. The following Sunday, there was fresh snow which made the trip to his grandfather's home more arduous. Archie carried with him a new snowboard his parents had bought, for his 18th birthday, and was very keen to test it. He managed to catch the last ski-lift of the day, which carried him upwards and beyond his grandfather‘s home. Unfortunately, he had been in such a rush to get to try out the new snowboard; that in his haste, he had left his mobile telephone at home, recharging its battery. He wanted to call Maya and ask if this was a good time to discuss his news with his grandfather, but this wasn‘t possible, so he went ahead anyway. ‗This time I will tell him, I‘m sure he will be fine about it.‘ He thought to himself. Eventually, he stood at the entrance to his grandfather's cabin but on this occasion, something seemed quite different. As Archie entered the cabin, he sensed the stillness that hung in the air and realised that the once-vibrant spirit of Heinrich had departed. The sight struck him with the power of an Alpine avalanche. Heinrich was peacefully seated in his favourite armchair, his hands gently cradling a weathered collection of photographs. He was gone, forever. Archie's tears fell like the winter rain. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 97 Archie was so distraught that it almost prevented him from noticing the content within the photograph album. Its pages filled with moments frozen in time. He reached out and grasped the album. As he flipped through the pages, a myriad of faded paper pictures unravelled a dramatic part of his grandfather's history that had remained veiled for so long. Archie‘s eyes widened with amazement as he saw a very young Heinrich skiing and even snowboarding! Horrifyingly, there were also several photographs of him smiling in German military SS uniform with other Nazis; and a few others of him standing alongside fellow soldiers, and several of him holding a strange looking circular object. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 98 The contrast between the serene moments he recalled with his grandfather, conflicted greatly with the scenes captured within the album. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 99 The impact of his grandfather's wartime involvement with the feared National Socialist German Workers' Party or ‗The Nazi Party,‘ created a swirling maelstrom of emotions within Archie. His gaze fixated on the images, which revealed a hidden past, a chapter of his grandfather's life, shrouded in mystery. The photographs captured Heinrich's days as a soldier, unveiling the realities of war, and the bond between comrades. Emotions clashed within him, torn between the memories of the gentle soul he knew, and the revelations of his wartime involvement. Questions gnawed at him; demanding answers. How had his grandfather possibly become entangled in the war? Conflicted and yearning for answers, Archie's mind became a battleground of questions. How could his gentle wise grandfather have been part of this organization known for its atrocities? What were the circumstances that led Heinrich down this path? But most importantly, how would this revelation impact his perception of his beloved grandfather and their cherished bond? Archie had no way of communicating the bad news to his family, other than to snowboard carefully back down to his home, where he threw himself into his mother‘s caring arms, before telling them the heart-breaking story. Hans, dutifully undertook the lead role to organise the very sad formalities, and supported his distraught wife during the days that followed. Archie sought a clearer understanding of his grandfather‘s activities which he gained from the accounts of his father and mother, who although aware of Heinrich's involvement in the war, had chosen to shield their son, from that part of their family's history. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 100 Archie soon discovered that his grandfather's journey was a complex story; his love of his homeland, loyalty to its political ideology, and latterly, an overwhelming desire for forgiveness. Heinrich, driven by a sense of duty, and driven by the insanity of the times, had been caught up in the fervent nationalism that permeated his generation. As he pieced together the fragments of his grandfather's story, Archie came to realise that the man he knew and loved, was a lot more than his wartime affiliation. Heinrich's later years were marked by a profound transformation—a journey of introspection, and a relentless pursuit of personal growth. His commitment to peace, had transcended the shadows of his past, creating a legacy of compassion and wisdom that Archie held dear. In the quiet solitude of his grandfather's cabin, Archie found some closure. He recognised that one's past may not define their entirety, but rather serve as a reminder of their human spirit. With a sense of appreciation for the complexities of history, Archie embraced the duality of his grandfather's life, a life that, despite its shadows, had left an indelible mark of love upon his own. As Archie bid farewell to the cabin, he carried with him the cherished memories of his time with Heinrich. The winds whispered softly through the pines, as if carrying the legacy of Heinrich's wisdom, urging him to embark on a journey of self-discovery; a journey comprising of some uncomfortable facts, sent him rapidly towards adulthood and reality. Amidst these revelations, Archie escaped to the natural world. The rugged mountains and serene landscapes became his refuge, providing a space for contemplation and reflection. Within the confines of the cabin, he immersed himself in the tangible remnants of his grandfather's life. He found inner ‗peace of mind‘ from these objects, each of them held the essence of the man he had so much admired. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 101 The inevitable detail following a person's demise unfolded with the expected solemnity, enveloping the family in a profound period of loss and grief. The reading of the will and the settlement of death duties commenced, ensuring that all loose ends were meticulously tied-up. Most of Archie‘s grandfather's savings found their way into the deserving hands of family members; as per his wishes. However, it was the ramshackle "cabin, its land and all contents' which he had been bequeathed. Grandfather knew that the place held a peculiar allure for Archie, who gladly accepted the inheritance and embarked on a mission to restore its decaying charm. With determination etched on his face, he set about repairing the rotting timbers and mending the broken paving, a testament to his resourcefulness and devotion to preserving his grandfather's legacy. It was a slow and painful process which despite his motivation was beyond his capabilities. His father had offered to help. Initially he had declined the offer but he was reconsidering it now that the enormity of his task was becoming clearer. The care of his grandfather's goats became a routine that Archie took on with a sense of pride. He milked them dutifully, ensuring their well-being and the timely delivery of their milk to his parents' home. In those quiet moments, as he attended to the goats, he found an opportunity for reflection. It was during these contemplative interludes that he delved into his grandfather's papers, immersing himself in the words left behind, seeking comfort and understanding in the only way he knew. Archie, unlike his father, possessed a different disposition; he was closer to his mother's personality, one that leaned toward sensitivity and a penchant for the arts. The expectations that rested upon his young shoulders did not align with his own aspirations. Rather than continuing with the family's construction and farming business, Archie yearned for a more expressive path. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 102 Acting, dancing, even the allure of the circus ignited his imagination and whispered promises of a life less ordinary. In the spare moments when he wasn't engrossed in computer games, or spending time with Maya or his grandfather, Archie found himself drawn to the local refugee reception centre, offering a helping hand and finding comfort in the compassionate company of his friends. Occasionally, they ventured into the vibrant city of Zurich or attended events in Davos, where the arrival of influential bankers and politicians lent an air of excitement to the otherwise mundane town. At the tender age of 17, he hadn't fully grasped the significance of these encounters, but they provided a sense of adventure and camaraderie in a world he was just beginning to explore. Before he had met Maya, Archie had been a bit of a loner. He had only a limited social circle of acquaintances, and a lukewarm interest in snowboarding. The wider world beckoned now that he had met Maya, and he was armed with new dreams and a yearning for something greater. He had set his mind on an extraordinary future, which was as yet to unfold. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 103 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 104 Archie‘s other life On the 1st of April, each year, Archie and his companions traditionally embarked on a train journey to Zurich, a city notorious for its stranglehold on the banking industry. To them, it represented the epitome of corporate greed and capitalist oppression. While he couldn't fully comprehend the intricacies of financial systems, he harboured disdain for the inequities and power imbalances that plagued the world. The stories of rampant starvation, ravaging wars around the planet, and the systematic marginalisation of the oppressed resonated deeply within him. It instilled righteous anger and directed his efforts towards combating the discrimination that infected society. He knew that it affected some places in the world more than others, but in Europe, yes, it was still an issue. He became particularly animated when he felt that gay people or women were discriminated against. His other particular dislike was the thought that several countries had historically been involved in the slave trade, and he advocated financial reparations for those who had suffered as a result; however Mayas speech at the college had made him seriously re-evaluate many of these beliefs. The refugee reception centre was situated away from his home on the outskirts of the town; it stood as a symbol of resistance for Archie and his friends. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 105 Archie became a member of a group calling themselves ANTIFA, offering solidarity with the disadvantaged, defying oppressive forces seeking to strip away the humanity of those seeking refuge. His mother‘s affiliation with the SVP ‗Swiss peoples Party‘ created much embarrassment for Archie. They were considered to be the enemy, and it had caused many disagreements within his family‘s home. His gentle personality embraced empathy and political activism. This centre, on the edge of town, was initially where he bore witness to stories of the struggles endured by many from other societies. Their tales of anguish disheartened him but their resilience fuelled his determination to dismantle this systemic oppression. Maya and her Mother, Ivana were often there and he enjoyed there company and conversations. Ivana had made comments to him that he struggled to comprehend; inevitably Maya shared many of these views and he struggled with them. Ivana was obviously well qualified to comment but she believed that many of the people arriving were a risk to the security of her new home. She had said that there was no way of knowing if they were genuine refugees or simply avoiding justice in their home country. She was aware that some were as genuine as herself, yet others less so, and she did not want the bad ones living next to her or her daughter. He found this difficult to get his head around, as did his friends, but no one dare challenge her; probably because they knew she was right. Anyhow, this year was different. Archie was so overcome by grief; he had become introspective, and maybe even depressed. He had also started to lose contact with his best new friend: Maya. ENTRY ABOUT SILVERMOON AND MAYA HERE (HE MEETS THE YOUNG BRO TOO) As the conference centre in Davos hosted its annual gatherings, Archie and his fellow antifascist associates usually rallied together, their voices amplified in raucous protest. They stood as beacons of resistance against the wealthy elite, who gathered within the gilded halls; to orchestrate schemes that perpetuated inequality and exploitation. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 106 The very notion of private planes and security forces only inflamed their fury, serving as stark reminders of the vast chasm between the haves and have-nots. Archie‘s late grandfather; wise yet concerned, had voiced his reservations about the potential dangers that awaited his valiant grandson if he became overly involved with this well-meaning group. Although Archie remained steadfast in his convictions, unyielding in his mission to dismantle oppressive structures, he listened patiently to the late yet learned gentleman but chose to disregard his concern. This year, Archie was preoccupied with the loss of his grandfather. He was also concerned about how his liberal minded associates may respond if they discovered that his own beloved grandfather was once an SS officer. Archie eventually pleaded with his father to help with the work at the cabin, and he agreed to do so. Could a transformative moment in their relationship emerge? It seemed possible. Archie and his father equipped themselves with a motorized digger and an allterrain truck to transport materials and tools to and from the cabin. They worked tirelessly, facing the formidable challenge of steep and rocky terrain, resisting their efforts at every turn. However, they remained resolute, and with a singular purpose. Engines roared, and machinery reverberated through the Alps as they laboured. Amidst the hustle and bustle, Archie's father proposed a bold plan. "Son, let's improve the water supply for the cabin. You can see what's coming; it may The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 107 become vital for our family's survival. This is our chance to secure our safety in the face of adversity." Archie appeared slightly puzzled. What was indeed coming? He didn't want to seem ignorant, but trusted his father's judgment when it came to matters of construction. Moreover, he recognized the urgency of climate change, and the importance of being prepared for any circumstance. Creating a refuge before the rising seas arrived, became a necessity, a wise move to secure their future. Side by side, they pressed onward, digging away and shaping the land with unwavering determination. Archie became caught up in his own vision, voiced his thoughts aloud. "This could be our own version of Noah's Ark, a sanctuary for when the climate emergency worsens." His father raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes in frustration at his son's naivety; ―for fucks sake Archie; we are halfway up the Alps‖ However, he refrained from commenting further. Instead, he directed their focus back to the task at hand, recognizing that their joint efforts were driven by a desire to safeguard and provide for their family in an increasingly uncertain world. Despite the digging, Hans could not locate a suitable water source without having to lay the pipes over a mile away which was simply not feasible. The existing supply was intermittent and simply not powerful enough. He needed to locate a better source for the water; it was not an easy task. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 108 Whenever they rested, which was rarely, Archie took time out to read more papers in the cabin. He delved deeper into his grandfather's past, and discovered a hidden chapter that added another layer of complexity of Heinrich's life. Among the papers left behind, he found records revealing his grandfather's role in safeguarding and preserving items of interest during the war. Particularly those associated with the occult or historically otherworldly matters such as encounters with aliens. Aliens! Were they serious? Archie was fascinated and continued to read. The documents unveiled a world shrouded in mystery, where ancient relics and objects of scientific or esoteric interest were sought after by the regime. Heinrich's task had been to ensure the safekeeping of these invaluable objects, protecting them from destruction or falling into the wrong hands. It was a responsibility that demanded both keen intellect and unwavering dedication. Archie's mind swirled with a mix of emotions as he grappled with the weight of his grandfather's actions. On one hand, he recognised the importance of preserving cultural heritage and safeguarding knowledge for future generations. Yet, on the other hand, the artefacts he had taken were often acquired through pillaging and the suffering of others. Driven by a desire to reconcile the truth, Archie sought to understand the motivation behind his grandfather's choices. Through further research and conversations with experts, he uncovered a broader picture of the tumultuous era and the moral complexities that accompanied it. Heinrich, it seemed, had been caught in a mesh of duty and conflicting loyalties. Though his actions were not without controversy, his aim had been to protect the historical treasure from destruction or exploitation by the Nazi regime. It was a delicate balance, navigating a treacherous landscape while aiming to preserve history and knowledge. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 109 As Archie contemplated the magnitude of his grandfather's task, he began to view Heinrich's role through a different lens. While not absolving the ethical implications, he understood that his grandfather had undertaken a responsibility that few would have been capable of shouldering. Heinrich's actions, fuelled by a deep-rooted sense of duty to the fatherland and an understanding of the value of cultural heritage, had been driven by a genuine desire to protect and preserve. With this newfound perspective, Archie's admiration for his grandfather's resilience and commitment to his duty grew. He recognized that the past was a complex mix of shades, where actions were not always black or white. And it was within this intricacy that the true essence of his grandfather‘s humanity laid. Armed with this understanding, Archie felt compelled to honour his grandfather's legacy in a meaningful way. He dedicated himself to researching and cataloguing the artefacts that had come into Heinrich's possession, seeking to uncover their historical significance and ensure their stories were shared with the world. It became his mission to try and transform the dark shadows of the past into a vision of enlightenment, shedding light on history. In the quiet corners of the cabin, a few trinkets holding both beauty and pain remained. Archie immersed himself in the stories they told. Through painstaking research, he unravelled the journeys of each item, revealing the lives impacted, the cultures preserved, and the knowledge embodied within. In the end, he realized that his grandfather's choices, though ethically ambiguous, were a testament to the elderly gent‘s capacity for growth and the potential power of personal transformation. Heinrich's story became a reminder that even within the darkest moments of history, pursuit for knowledge can still prevail. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 110 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 111 A special find One late evening, Archie was in the cabin alone and reading documents after his father had returned to the family‘s home. Archie‘s gaze fell upon a robust chain, which he had previously seen worn around his late grandfather's neck. It had now been placed by someone, maybe his grandfather, into a storage box and apparently forgotten. His eyes were drawn to the solid key hanging from it. Intrigued by the engravings on the key, he grasped it in his hands. The words etched onto its surface, and written in German, sent a shiver down his spine: "For Archibald, The Architect." The key was the property of a local Swiss bank, and was clearly marked accordingly. A rush of curiosity and anticipation ran through Archie‘s veins as he considered the meaning behind the inscription. What could lie behind the doors of the safety deposit box? What secrets or revelations awaited him within the confines of the privately owned Swiss bank? Driven by an eagerness to uncover the truth, Archie made his way to the bank in the heart of Davos. The security measures and fortifications of the establishment reflected the seriousness of the matter. The bank representative, a formidable figure, exuding an air of authority, greeted him with a stern yet professional demeanour and guided him to the safety deposit vault. Within the heavily fortified space, rows upon rows of impenetrable metallic doors stood as guardians of secrets and treasures. The representative, with steady hands, guided Archie to the designated box, inserting the key into the lock with a resounding click. With a determined expression, Archie swung open the door, revealing a small linen bag resting inside. Curiosity sparked, Archie carefully retrieved the bag from the safety deposit box. He could feel a weight within it, a sense of significance that left him both intrigued and apprehensive. With gentle, yet purposeful movements, he untied The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 112 the drawstring and slowly revealed the object concealed within; it was a compass unlike any he had seen before. The compass exuded an aura of mystery, its design intricate and unconventional. Its casing, crafted from an apparent composite mixture of light coloured plastic and stone, was adorned with intricate engravings that seemed to depict constellations and celestial maps. The needle, instead of pointing north, seemed to move independently, was it faulty? He was unsure. Nevertheless it was indeed very beautiful, and a wonderful reminder of his late grandfather. Archie marvelled at the craftsmanship and symbolism imbued within the item. As he held it in his hands, he couldn't help but ponder the meaning of the inscription on the key: "For Archibald, The Architect." It was as if his wise and dearly departed grandfather knew something which Archie did not. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 113 With each touch on the protruding buttons a rotation of the dial occurred. Archie became aware of a sense of clarity within him; as if his grandfather were trying to communicate from beyond the grave. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 114 He understood that this gift was not only a tangible object but also a symbolic representation of his grandfather's faith in him. He knew that the compass was powerful, simply because he could feel it; however, he had no idea how to use it correctly. Archie carefully placed the compass back in the linen bag, securing it once again. He closed the safety deposit box and left the bank. He tried to call Maya but she was not available, so he went home to seek his father's advice. He described the ancient symbols engraved on its casing. The surface of the compass which a series of circles was each carefully inscribed with delicate markings. He explained that when he traced his fingers along the edges, he felt a special force-field within it. Archie had realised that this plate could be rotated independently from the rest of the compass. It seemed to hold a hidden message embedded within its confines. The surface of the plate was meticulously etched with a series of alphanumeric characters, arranged in a circular pattern. He excitedly described the markings on the compass, and believed that they were in the form of ancient Greek. Although he could not understand the writing or the symbols, he explained how the engravings were expertly done, the characters etched with precision and clarity. They were small enough to fit seamlessly within the limited space of the circular plate, ensuring that the essence of the message remained discreet yet accessible. He exclaimed that when he held the compass in his hands, Archie couldn't help but feel a sense of connection to the ancient wisdom embedded within its design. The code represented a fusion of past and present, blending the esoteric knowledge of the ancient Greeks with the modern realm of computing. Archie couldn‘t explain why, but he believed that the message "Make it happen" or something very similar, was present and an indication of its purpose. It seemed to serve as a guiding light, igniting his determination to manifest his dreams and bring forth the changes he wished to see in the world, and told his father so. His father's response was less than helpful. "It all sounds like 'gobbledygook' to me, Archie. Are you feeling okay? I hope you haven't been eating magic mushrooms with your weird girlfriend again." Then he called out to his wife, ―Emma. Archie thinks he's found Aladdin's lamp!" and he guffawed profoundly. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 115 Although he was only teasing him: for a moment he had forgotten what a sensitive soul his son could be. Archie was not impressed by his father's frivolous attitude. He was quite offended and told his father as much, to which his father responded "People get offended over anything these days. Remember, Archie; science and facts don‘t change just because of your feelings. Follow the science son. It‘s just grandfather‘s compass" However, his father did go on to suggest something more constructive. "Take it to your girlfriend‘s mother; Silverspoon, or whatever her name is‖ He deliberately misnamed her, and laughed loudly yet again. She does that mystical mumbo jumbo for the rich and famous. They've got more money than sense‖ he sarcastically said. He was being insulting about his friend Maya‘s mother. Her actual name was Silvermoon, or that's what she liked to be known as. Silvermoon and Mayas home was in the town centre. He had never formerly been introduced to her by Maya but she occasionally attended some of the demonstrations with him and they had exchanged pleasantries previously. Yes, she might know more. However, he felt it necessary to challenge his father's disrespectful description of her. 'She's not crazy, father. She‘s a spiritual Romany gypsy. It's inappropriate to describe her in that way.' 'Oh, for fuck's sake, Archie, when are you going to get a grasp of reality? She's a crackpot, a chancer; a charlatan, they all are. Go and waste your money with her if you want to. Just don't waste mine that is all.' And so he did. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 116 Silvermoon Silvermoon was a magnificent character, and Archie had always found her to be a very interesting woman. She was significantly older than him but far younger than his own mother; she must be, because her daughter Maya was about the same age as him. However, Silvermoon looked very young, even for the age she must be. She was self-assured, and simply beautiful; much like Maya. A painting of Silvermoon in her youth captivated her elegance and hung in her studio. It accurately captured her magnificence. Observers often found themselves captivated by the shimmering silver that she painted above her eyes. Her long flowing tresses cascaded down her back, catching the light in a way that suggested a life of their own. When she moved it was almost as if she were dancing through the air. Her presence exuded a magnetic allure, drawing people in like moths to a flame. She was draped in flowing ornate garments adorned with mystical symbols and patterns. Her attire seemed to echo the ancient knowledge she possessed. When she spoke, her voice resonated like a soothing melody, with a gentle cadence that captured the attention of Archie, and he was eager to hear her profound insights and guidance. Silvermoon imparted her visions sometimes through complex riddles or occasionally straightforward wisdom. In either case, her words had a way of leaving a deep impact on Archie during their counsel. Despite her captivating nature, Silvermoon maintained an aura of humility and kindness. She used her gift to inspire each of her clients, guiding them toward understanding and enlightenment. Her presence brought a sense of calm; and she offered peace to troubled souls. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 117 Silvermoon was more than just a very attractive female mystic; she embodied great wisdom, leaving a lasting impression on those who had the fortune, financially or otherwise, to encounter her. Silvermoon already knew who Archie was; she had heard quite a lot about him from her daughter. She explained that the compass was actually called an Astrolabe. It was indeed devised by the ancient Greeks but had its origins in Persia, now Iran. She continued, ―An astrolabe is an ancient astronomical instrument used for solving problems related to time, navigation, and celestial observations. It is a priceless relic and was stolen by the Nazis from the Greeks during World War II. It was believed to be a means of connecting with the divine directly,‖ beyond that, she was unsure. She then said to him ―Imagine you have a magic button in your mind. Let‘s call it the control button; its primary ability is called an ‗internal locus of control‘. It means that you have the power to control things in your life using this magic button inside your head. Then, the choices you make, and the effort you put in to anything in your life, will make a big difference in what happens to you. Some people call this manifestation; others call it wishing, hoping or even praying. If you study hard for a test, it‘s quite right to believe that your hard work will help you do well in the test, and so it should. This astrolabe or compass, as you describe it, is like having a superpower to actually make things happen. Used properly, and in the right hands, it can help the holder create truly magical events. But be careful what you wish for young Archie. This can be a powerful force in the wrong hands‖ She winked and smiled simultaneously at Archie, inferring that maybe she didn‘t even believe the fable herself. ―Only highly spiritual folk; such as Romany, Indian Fakirs, and maybe South American Shaman, can truly do that‖ she stated. She went on to say that the Nazis, who took the compass, had studied it for years. They could not comprehend its true nature; perhaps they simply didn‘t The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 118 have the visionary capacity… Eventually, it was discarded, when they concluded it was nothing more than folklore. This was likely to be how it came into Archie‘s grandfather's possession, as it was deemed to have little or no esoteric value. Silvermoon indicated that she tended to agree with that conclusion, and suggested that he looked deep inside of his own heart if he sought a connection with his grandfather's spirit. She also mentioned that if he felt the need to communicate with his grandfather, he might consider having a 'psychic reading' or exploring spiritual and mindenhancing substances such as ayahuasca, or magic mushrooms. Additionally, she specified that if he decided to use psychedelic substances, it should only be done under proper guidance, in a safe environment, and in places where it is legal. She also reminded him that Switzerland has a very liberal attitude towards magic mushrooms; again smiling knowingly, as she said it. "Oh, really? So, you can have magic mushrooms here in Switzerland?" inquired Archie, trying not to reveal too much about his previous knowledge of the subject. "Yes, as if you didn‘t know already! The Swiss authorities classify fresh magic mushrooms as 'non-controlled' substances, so as long as you don‘t dry them, you are good to go. Happy days eh?" Her smile grew even larger, revealing her beautifully sparkling white teeth. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 119 Archie thanked her and offered to pay what he owed, but she declined his offer. He was dejected by this information about the compass, but he knew exactly where to find the magic mushrooms! All of his friends did too, so he was generally unfazed. Archie took the item home and at first placed it on a shelf in his bedroom. It may not be magical but it was certainly beautiful, and a wonderful reminder of his grandfather. However over time, it started to gather dust as most teenagers‘ bedrooms have a tendency to do. Eventually it was put inside a drawer and he forgot about it. *** The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 120 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 121 Work continued at Archie‘s late grandfather's wooden chalet; but locating the water source was causing a big problem. Grandfather had previously collected rainwater and boiled it before drinking or gathered the water from a nearby stream but this was arduous work and highly inefficient. There was obviously no mains water half way up a mountain, therefore a natural spring with water had to be found, in order to carry an endless supply of free, crystal-clear, and pure water, to the abode. But they couldn‘t find the waters source. A few weeks past, Archie contacted Maya and apologised for neglecting her; explaining how much work was involved, and the problems regarding the water they were encountering. She had an idea; she would come to visit with her mother, Silvermoon. She would find the water if there was any. Silvermoon knew how to do water divining. Searching for water underground, or dowsing as it was sometimes called, was an ancient knowledge; used by many nomadic peoples worldwide. Archie said he would speak with his father, and ask if that was in order. He was greeted with the anticipated negative response but it was agreed that they could visit if they made their own way at a convenient time. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 122 A few days later they all gathered at the cabin. Maya and Archie were able to reunite and surprisingly, after a few moments of nervousness it transpired that Silvermoon, or Ivana, as Hans insisted on calling her, got along quite well too; so Archie and Maya went off to pick mushrooms whilst Silvermoon searched for the waters source. Hans watched Silvermoon with an element of disbelief as she removed some ‗magical sticks‘ from their large Japanese four wheeled drive car. ―That does not look much like a broom-stick‖ he sarcastically commented. ―Well, wait and see if I am a proper witch first. I hear that you already think I might be‖ She smiled radiantly; was she flirting with him? It seemed so. She explained before going further. ―Water witching, is a practice that involves using my natural senses more than these twigs. I can locate your water,‖ She confidently stated. ―Underground water sources such as wells or groundwater reservoirs, give off a vibration, to which I am attuned, these sticks just amplify it‖ He looked doubtful but said nothing. Silvermoon continued. ―This technique has been used for centuries in various cultures around the world; it‘s often used by dowsers or water diviners. I‘m neither; I am a white witch, and so is my incredible daughter‖ Hans looked uncertain, but just nodded and hoped that she was correct. She walked slowly over the land near to the cabin while holding the dowsing rod. She approached a location which by sight she believed to have the best possibility of having underground water. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 123 She said, ―The rod might move or twitch. The movement can be subtle, with the rod turning downward or upward in response to my movements, maybe you won‘t see it, but I will feel it. I will show you where.‖ Again she was very confident. She wandered around the cabin for about twenty minutes. Maya and Archie returned and just watched in silence. Silvermoon was looking quite disheartened. As she carefully got closer to the cabin she looked to Hans and said, ―I feel something‖ Everyone smiled and hoped. Then she came within a few meters of the cabin. ―Surely it can‘t be that close said Hans, father would have found it long ago‖ ―Well something‘s here and it‘s very strong, but I didn‘t locate it exactly yet‖ Silvermoon said with a slightly nervous look on her face. Then suddenly the sticks gave a vicious movement which almost pulled them from her grasp. ―Here,‖ she excitedly retorted. ―Right here; and here, and here. I‘m not certain what it is, but it‘s large maybe a spring or small lake, but its right here‖ ―Let‘s find out‖ said Hans, and he started to dig with a spade, but the ground was solid. He then started up the mechanical digger and he began to excavate very carefully, about five meters from the cabin. As the roaring machine got closer to the chalet, the ground became simply too difficult to dig, even with the mechanical digger. It became evident that a large and heavy concrete base had been laid prior to the building's construction. Part of it needed to be removed, and it proved to be very challenging. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 124 Are you certain it‘s there? Hans asked. ―There‘s plenty of concrete. I see no water‖ ―Concrete gives no vibration. It has no spirit, no soul. I feel a strong natural force. Water is only one of several minerals which it could be. Up here, in the mountains, what else could it be? Silvermoon wisely commented. He had no response, and scratched his forehead in puzzlement. ―So why block it in with concrete? Nobody knew, but it was getting late and cold. Maya and Silvermoon were confident they had achieved their objective and returned home. Shortly afterwards, Archie and his father did likewise. After several days of repetitive work, a portion of the concrete broke away revealing its true purpose. The concrete concealed a hidden treasure:— gold bullion, and a significant amount of it. The astonishing discovery brought the building work to an abrupt halt. It seemed as if the elderly grandfather was not as innocent as he would have those around him believe. What was to become of this find? Archie‘s father grew increasingly agitated as he calculated the value of the gold, some of which remained hidden underneath the concrete. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 125 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 126 Hans realized it could amount to a fortune, possibly millions of Swiss francs. The value of the gold rivalled that of the reserves held by most medium-sized countries. While it was evident that the gold was not rightfully theirs to keep, the temptation proved almost irresistible. His father found himself pondering the predicament with his wife, within the confines of their family home, as the magnitude of the dilemma pressed upon him. He sought comfort from a bottle of rum. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 127 Fool‘s gold Also feeling overwhelmed, Archie retreated to his room; and wept. If only they could retain the gold he thought, they could use it to rectify the world's injustices. They could provide food for the starving; bring water to those in need, offer shelter to the homeless, and fund research to combat diseases like cancer. The thought of surrendering the gold to the authorities left him troubled. What would they do with it? Would they hide it away in a bank, or use it to facilitate the trade of weapons? He needed Mayas advice, and so he telephoned her. Initially she assumed that they had located the water source. He was unsure what to tell her; he didn‘t want to lie to her, but could not reveal what had actually happened. Maya quickly became aware of his distress, and gave him her best advice. ―Take the ‗shrooms we picked. Chill out. They will help your consciousness, clear your chakras, and gain that sense of inner peace and spiritual insight. When they kick-in and the energy flows through you, you will know what the right answer is. Your senses will go into overdrive and when things start to change around you, go on an adventure. You can then decide what to do with the gold. You might see hear sounds that aren't there, feast your senses; don‘t be afraid― He reached into his rucksack, and pulled out as many as he could find and devoured them all. They continued to speak for about 30 minutes before Archie shouted down the telephone to her; ―I know what to do!‖ He hung up the phone rapidly. He had a glorious premonition; possibly it came from his grandfather, or maybe not. The compass could guide him in his decision. He had been already told that it probably didn't work, and that it was all a massive myth, but he had to try again. His grandfather always valued perseverance, and Archie did his utmost to recall his grandfather's spirit to guide him. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 128 He removed the compass from the drawer and effectively began to pray to Heinreich for guidance. Nothing materialised. Not a peep. He tried to recall the exact words that Silverspoon, or whatever her name was, had given him; he could only vaguely remember. She had said something about being true to himself and to his emotions; and to be in the moment. He didn't really know what this meant. Maybe it was mumbojumbo after all? He sat in the dark, lit a candle, held the compass, and pointed it to the moon, then North, then East, West, then South. There was still no response. Then a rage came over him, and the frustration washed through him, along with an anger and indignation which he had never felt before. It was as if righting all the injustices of the world had fallen upon his young shoulders and he had not been man enough to resolve it. In a moment of apparent madness, he picked up the compass and threw it as hard as he could at the wall. As he did so, he screamed the words, "Work you fucker!" It bounced off the wall, taking a chunk of plasterwork with it and landed inside the fish tank, sinking to the bottom and just sat there... but it was now glowing; emitting bright pulsating green and orange lights. "Oh my God! He cried out, it's working! The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 129 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 130 Unbeknownst to Archie, even if it was working, the compass had no sense of right or wrong. While the compass seemed like a tool to guide him on his life journey, a power existed within it that reached far beyond his limited intellect or morality; it possessed the ability to manifest events and make things happen, with an irresistible force. The words of Silvermoon echoed in his ears; she had said, "Be careful what you wish for." She had warned him. Apparently, the compass operated outside the realm of any moral judgment, allowing the user to shape future reality according to their desires, regardless of the ethical implications. It was a neutral conduit, a mere facilitator of actions without regard for consequences. It was both God, and the Devil. Archie quickly reached into the fish tank and retrieved it. Hurriedly, he dried it off, in case it became water damaged. It wasn't actually doing anything as far as he was aware, but he could hear a gentle humming sound, and it still displayed a faint orange light each time he held it. Wow, he thought, it's still working. Now what? The excitement became too much; he had to try and get it to do something, anything, just to prove to himself, and then to his father, that it wasn't gobbledegook after all. Archie wielded this extraordinary compass, unaware of its potential implications. With each turn of the needle, he set in motion a series of events around the world, making things happen, but he was completely oblivious to them. Things were changing around the planet, and the entire universe, and he didn't even realise that he was causing them. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 131 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 132 The dark side The compass had granted Archibald an almost godlike ability—an incredible power, to manipulate circumstances and bend the fabric of reality. But until he controlled it, it was as if the creator himself was having a rather drunken day out. Whilst it was capable of overcoming any obstacle in his path; it could do the reverse. As Archie ventured further over the coming weeks, the consequences of his actions became increasingly apparent to the newspapers, but not yet to him. Volcanoes erupted, tsunamis struck, and several incidents involving trains, planes, and football stadium disasters occurred. Meteors changed course, and a series of other inexplicable events unfolded. New wars seemed to be starting all around the world, and a severe recession hit the USA. Additionally, the Dot-com bubble burst, causing many people to lose a lot of money. The news reported numerous terrible events, including bombings, all happening suddenly. Was it connected? Who could tell? Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Coincidences can happen he thought, I should not draw any conclusions from them. I shall follow the science, as my father said. But the compass instinctively knew what Archie desired, even without him specifying his preferred outcome, and it was going ahead regardless. Devoid of moral judgment, it played no role in discerning any ethical implications of his aims. It was a double-edged sword, indiscriminately bringing both desired outcomes and unintended consequences. He needed to focus, to be totally at one with the device, but did not understand how to achieve it. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 133 Archibald's lack of awareness about the compass's true nature placed humanity on a precarious path. The compass held no cautionary whispers or ethical considerations, leaving him to navigate the fine line between the pursuit of his ambitions and the potential moral implications of his choices. As Archibald moved forward, his actions fuelled by the compass's power, the consequences began to ripple outward, affecting not only his own life but also the lives of those around him. The dichotomy of the compass, part miraclemaker and part malevolent force became an unforeseen challenge in his journey. The true nature of the compass remained hidden. It held secrets, as yet to be revealed. Archibald, driven by his ambitions, and unaware of the compass's inherent neutrality, continued to make things happen without realizing the potential ramifications. He remained blissfully ignorant of the delicate balance between ambition and the immorality that lay before him. And so, the compass became both his most profound challenge. It possessed the power to shape his reality, yet its impartial nature left him to grapple with the consequences of his actions. As he set out on his architectural path, the true test awaited—a test of not only his talent and ambition but also his moral compass, a compass that he had yet to even partially comprehend. That night, Archibald's sleep was plagued by restlessness. He clutched the compass tightly, its presence a steadying anchor, amidst his tumultuous thoughts. As he surrendered to the realm of dreams, a profound transformation awaited him. In the depths of his slumber, his innermost desires unleashed an insatiable thirst for control. The twisted ideologies of his forebear consumed his being, moulding him into a new identity: 'The Architect.' Within his dream, a dark charisma exuded from him. He became a master manipulator, exploiting the greed, fear, and corruption that entwined society. He developed a relentless determination, and embarked on a path towards the pursuit of absolute power. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 134 The Sloten gold, served as his clandestine weapon, its immense value granting him unparalleled influence. Driven by his unwavering ambition, Archibald infiltrated the corridors of power with calculated precision. Shadows enveloped his every move as he constructed an empire of secrecy and deceit. The world trembled beneath his cunning gaze, unaware of the malevolent force that lay behind his charismatic façade. In this dreamscape of grandeur and treachery, Archibald stood at the precipice of world domination. His path, paved with treacherous choices and dark alliances, beckoned him forward. The compass, still clutched tightly in his hand, pulsated with an otherworldly energy, as if driving his wicked aspirations. As dawn approached, he awoke from his haunting reverie. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead, testament to the intensity of his dream. The lines between reality and the ethereal realm had blurred, leaving him questioning the depths of his own desires. Uncertainty and foreboding hung in the air as Archibald stared at the compass. The power it held was undeniable, but at what cost? The stage was set, and Archibald stood upon it, torn between the allure of power and the haunting warning of his subconscious. The compass, a channel of both destiny and doom, awaited his next move, its mysterious allure pulling him deeper into the web of his own making. As the first light of day cast its glow upon Archibald, he gingerly picked up the compass once more. To his dismay, there was no radiant orange light, no comforting hum. Doubt crept into his mind like a haunting spectre. Had it all been a mere figment of his imagination? Was the compass broken, its power extinguished? Perhaps the batteries had expired, rendering it impotent. His heart sank as he faced the possibility that his hopes had been in vain. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 135 Frustration burned within him, Archibald resorted to one last desperate attempt. "Bring me some breakfast!," he pleaded, his voice laced with a mixture of desperation and disbelief. Alas, there was no response. No magical manifestation of his desires. His cries fell upon silent air. Frantically, he searched for an on-off button, a hidden compartment for batteries, or anything that could breathe life into the inert compass. Yet, his efforts were in vain. The compass remained stubbornly unresponsive. Defeated, he carried on with his day, cloaked in a sombre and disheartened demeanour. The compass, now relegated to the confines of the drawer, seemed nothing more than an empty vessel. Nightfall returned, casting its shadow upon Archibald's weary spirit. In a moment of both resignation and curiosity, he retrieved the compass once more. Determined to put an end to the lingering doubts, he extinguished the lights, leaving only a flickering candle to illuminate the room. He waited with bated breath, anticipating the elusive glow and hum that had once captivated his imagination. But, yet again, silence prevailed. No ethereal light pierced the darkness; no enchanting melody filled the air. It was all but a distant memory, a fading echo. Bitter realization washed over him. The compass had been nothing more than a fragment of his own delusions, a tantalizing mirage that had driven him to the brink of madness. Despondency gnawed at his soul as he grudgingly returned the compass to the drawer, its once-promised power now reduced to history. Archibald, burdened by the impact of his shattered dreams, succumbed to the understanding that his journey had taken an unexpected turn. The compass, once a last bastion of hope, now served as a stark reminder of the fragility of his sanity. With a heavy heart, he embraced the harsh reality before him, resolved to navigate the world without the crutch of illusory guidance. And he drifted off to sleep, again holding the compass. However once again, the vivid dreams returned. This time he positioned himself as a financial genius, possessing the knowledge and resources to navigate the treacherous world of high finance. Under the guise of philanthropy, he The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 136 concealed his true intentions—absolute dominion over the world's energy resources and financial institutions. Through careful orchestration, the Architect infiltrated key institutions, exerting his influence behind the scenes. He amassed a network of loyal operatives, meticulously selected for their unwavering loyalty and skill in carrying out his nefarious schemes. With each move, he tightened his grip on the world, his machinations concealed beneath a veil of respectability and power. The Sloten gold, as it was known; found under his grandfather's cabin became ultimate symbol of control, a potent tool to manipulate governments, corporations, and individuals alike. With its immense value, he secured alliances, silenced dissent, and ensured unwavering obedience and controlled the entire financial institutions. It was a testament to the dark legacy of his Nazi grandfather, fuelling his ambitions and justifying his path of dominance. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 137 As the Architect ascended to the zenith of world power, he meticulously erased any traces of his ignoble origins, skilfully rewriting his family's history to suit his grand narrative. The world remained oblivious to the true nature of his lineage, unaware of the forces that propelled him forward. The battle for humanity's future unfolded. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 138 Archibald asked the compass once more how he could achieve his objectives and what he needed to overcome. "Nuclear weapons threats from enemy countries?" he questioned. The light changed, and it now glowed red. The humming stopped. The response seemed negative. "Okay, then how about climate change?" he asked. It remained red, and the humming was silent. This surprised him greatly. "Well, what about the population? Do we need more or fewer people?" Archibald questioned. The humming started once more. The light then moved to green and began to flash in a varying sequence. First, there were three flashes, then six, then nine. This pattern repeated and then repeated again ad infinitum. It seemed that this might be some form of a positive response, but the code was confusing for him. 3-6-9-3-6-9-3-6-9 He didn‘t recognise what it could possibly mean, so he tried again. "Okay, what about religion? Do we need more or less faith in God?" Archibald inquired. Instantly, the humming and the lights stopped. That seemed fairly clear. Now he was perplexed. After a moment of deeper contemplation Archibald posed another question with a touch of intrigue, "Alright then, what about energy, fossil fuels, and oil?" The compass responded with a subtle yet unmistakable hum, resembling the purring of a well-tuned engine, while the light stubbornly held its crimson hue. That felt like a possibility, so he pursued this line of inquiry. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 139 A fleeting pause filled the air as Archibald absorbed the implications. His mind spun with thoughts of the world's dwindling oil reserves and the urgent need for sustainable alternatives. Could this be the key to his quest? The compass seemed to hold the answers, its mechanism guiding him through many potential possibilities. With a measured breath, he voiced his revelation, "I have heard tales about when the oil wells run dry and of the consequences if we were to run out. Is it a serious problem?" As if choreographed by fate, the light shifted its radiant glow from red to amber and finally settling on the vibrant hue of green. The emerald brilliance mesmerised and almost blinded Archibald. He carefully placed the compass on the floor, its newfound warmth coursing through his fingertips. The steady hum grew in intensity, resonating with an unwavering confidence, as if the compass itself held the key. In that moment, Archibald knew the answer. He felt a surge of exhilaration, an electrifying current pulsating through his veins. His spirit seemed to infuse the air, as if a movie adventure had unfolded before him. The green light, now concentrated like a laser, took on an ethereal quality, piercing through the air with a resolute intensity. Archibald's eyes widened as the luminous beam transformed into a projection, casting a message upon the expanse of the ceiling above. Each computer screen and his mobile telephone displayed the identical and simultaneous messages. The words materialised in a bold, commanding font, reminiscent of secret intelligence communiqués. Archibald's heart raced with anticipation as he deciphered the message that appeared before him. "The future of humanity lies in your hands. The planet will always survive. Humans are the only virus. Fear nothing, fear is temporary. Regret is forever!" The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 140 These words, projected with an air of authority, carried a force that resonated deep within Archibald's being. He knew it anyway, his father had actually said similar things to him in that the future of humanity is a responsibility that rests with individuals, and our actions today will shape what lies ahead. The planet, in its broader sense, is likely to endure despite human influence, as it has done through various challenges and changes over time. The human race though, that was a different story. In this moment, Archibald became acutely aware that the compass was more than a mere guide; it was a catalyst for transformation. Inspired by the message, he embraced his role as an agent of change. It was as if his absent grandfather was trying to communicate. Archie was desperate to listen. The message projected by the luminous green light lingered in the room, but eventually faded. Its presence a timely reminder of the responsibility that now rested upon Archibald's shoulders. Armed with purpose and driven by an unwavering commitment, he would carve a path towards a future forever altering the course of history. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 141 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 142 The Peak of the Black Gold In the glow of the green projection, Archibald found himself transfixed by this bizarre information. His curiosity ignited, and he yearned to uncover the secrets hidden within the words which appeared on his command. "Tell me more…" Imagine a giant oil well. It is a fountain of wealth and health for any nation, providing that the demand for it exists. But one day it begins to run dry, as does everything that it can provide. Humans call this 'peak oil,' and it creates significant challenges... as with all peaks, what goes up must come down. Discover what will happen when it does.... Peak oil? He had never heard it called that, or described in that way and he knew little or nothing about it. Archibald felt the dependence of the world's energy reliance pressing down on him. The concept of "peak oil" suddenly became more than just words on the ceiling—it became a pivotal moment of realisation that the world he knew was changing. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 143 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 144 Archibald's mind raced as he contemplated the implications. The thought of dwindling oil reserves and the challenges it posed to humanity's future sparked a surge of determination within him. He knew he had to delve deeper, to understand the consequences that loomed on the horizon. The green light, like an oracle, seemed to convey a message beyond language. It urged him to explore, to be the seeker of truth and solutions. As the light gradually faded, leaving the room in darkness once more, Archibald felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility and he knew that this revelation was a call to action; and he embarked on his quest for knowledge. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 145 As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, he became aware that renewable energy sources could never deliver what they needed to, and he imagined the resultant chaos. But Archibald was no longer afraid, for he had found his purpose—a purpose illuminated by the mysterious green projection that changed everything. The following day, Archibald repeated the process and the messages returned, flowing like an old teleprompter, each message clearly defined and appearing in several different languages. Again they appeared all around him, on the television, on his phone and were projected simultaneously around the room onto the wall and ceiling. Archibald took a pen and paper and recorded those appearing in his own language of Swiss-German but also including Sanskrit, Hindi, Cantonese, Italian, Spanish, Russian, French and English and he wrote them thus.  Maintain humanity under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature.  Guide reproduction wisely — improving fitness and diversity.  Unite humanity with a living new language.  Rule passion, faith, tradition, and all things with tempered reason.  Protect people and nations with fair laws and just courts.  Let all nations rule internally, resolving external disputes in a world court.  Avoid petty laws and useless officials.  Balance personal rights with social duties.  Prize truth, beauty, love — seeking harmony with the infinite.  Be not a cancer on the Earth — Leave room for nature — Leave room for nature He pondered for a while. "Well, I can't argue with that but it all sounds a bit strange," Archibald said. Unbeknownst to him, the world's population already stood at over 6 billion people and was projected to reach around 11 billion by the turn of the century. "A new language? I wonder if it means a digital language. The internet uses a digital language, and everyone will use that one day. Cool!" And then he said it... The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 146 "I simply want the world to be fair, equal, and for everyone in it to be happy." The compass clicked, purred, and emitted a dark green light. Its mass increased, but its physical size did not. It had begun. World peace and happiness, by any and all means necessary... Unfortunately, he did not specify how many people that may include or how this universally desirable manifestation should be achieved. It might have also skipped Archibald's notice, but the first of the compass' messages indicated that a perfect and sustainable figure for Earth's population should be around 500 million people. At that moment, the United States alone consisted of about 300 million people, so achieving this figure would be rather challenging. *** The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 147 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 148 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 149 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 150 THE INVESTIGATOR APPEARS Alex Hunter was a man of utter simplicity, and led an unassuming life, attempting to scrape by with modest means. Educated at the local state comprehensive school he left at 16 with very few notable qualification; or to be more precise, none. He‘d had a troubled relationship with his parents and was more interested in sports than science or maths; he could string a coherent sentence together but even these frequently contained a plethora of expletives. Politics had never captivated him, and over his 35 years, he had cast his vote for various major parties in England. Yet, these choices never left a mark on his existence. Inexorably, prices marched upwards, while his wages remained stagnant, and the end of each month brought the precarious dance of settling basic bills, often avoiding the dreaded overdraft by a whisker. His late mother ran a fairly successful small business. His late father was in the British Royal Air Force. He harboured no malice but perhaps some sadness about the situation with his parents. He had no profound religious beliefs; quite the opposite. He considered himself to be an Atheist and was quite proud of that identity. He renounced the notion of Aliens, Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and leprechauns. Neither did he believe that the world was flat. Alex was a man of unwavering heterosexuality, always content with amorous relationships with women. He yearned for a counterpart with equal yet modest intellectual depth, which seemed to be a rare gem in his pursuit. The company of females had previously failed to satiate his longing for stimulating discourse. Some might hastily have branded him a misogynist, but in truth, he saw himself as a pragmatic observer of the world's realities. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 151 He was a working class Brit, with a spark of untapped intellect and as suggested, he had more than a passing interest in sport, his particular heroes were all quite historical figures; Mohammed Ali, or Cassius Clay as he insisted on calling him; and he also greatly admired Pele, whom he considered to be the best football (soccer) player of all time. He enjoyed motor sports too but could never understand why no woman had won a formula one car race either. His opinion was that they should do so quickly, just in case map-reading or reversing was ever introduced as a requirement. Another particular interest of his was the assassination of John F Kennedy, which was the closest he had ever got to being a so called conspiracy theorist. This only because he had watched a documentary on the British Broadcasting service, some while ago; and this had prompted his intrigue. His claim to fame was that in his youth he had been arrested for hacking into the schools computer system and adjusting his own results beyond what was humanly possible to achieve. He was extremely good with computers and sometimes could be a bit of an IT geek too. There was but one element that bound Alex and young Archibald: a fervent passion for justice. An innate loathing for those who abuse their power to bully others also came close too. This burned fiercely within each of them, driving them on an uncharted journey towards their respective versions of the ‗truth. Alex had done a fair amount of reading in his spare time, about political assassination and especially JFK‘s death, and he was less than convinced of the official version of events. Nevertheless, he remained open minded about the whole dreadful incident. Alex also relished a pint with his mates. He indulged in a spot of amateur football, and held down a steady, albeit unremarkable, job. Occasionally, he'd skim through the broadsheet newspapers, but rarely ventured beyond the realms of holiday plans or the telly schedule. Never once had he conquered a crossword within their pages. Computers were his talent; numbers and data, not words. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 152 Then, one fateful day, whilst sweating away at the gymnasium, destiny took an unexpected turn. As he pounded away on the treadmill, tunes pumping through his ears, his gaze wandered to the television screens suspended above. It was mid-morning, and a peculiar motion picture unfurled before his eyes. An aircraft collided with a tower, and was billowing smoke, yet he paid it little attention. But lo and behold, a short while later, another plane struck the very same type of structure. His lack of interest shifted swiftly to disdain, dismissing the plot as far-fetched fiction. He reached out to silence the music and switch contraptions, preparing to exchange the rhythmic pounding in his ears, and feet for the serenity of the rowing machine. As his feet met solid ground, he sensed an eerie hush enveloping the room. Every gaze was fixed on the shared spectacle on the screen. It suddenly dawned upon him that the movie he had dismissed was no fabrication. The date became etched in his mind: September 11th, 2001. Alex Hunter did not know that this moment, at the gymnasium would mark a turning point in his life. The events unfolding on that television screen would ripple through the fabric of his existence, awakening a dormant sense of curiosity and embroiling him in a world far removed from his mundane routines. As the shock of the unfolding tragedy gripped his senses, Alex's instincts kicked in. No longer content with being a mere observer of the world, he sought answers, craving to understand the forces at play behind these devastating acts. Determination burned within him, he discovered a newfound resolve to delve deeper into the realms of geopolitics, clandestine operations, and the intricate tissue of power that entangled the world. Gone were the days of apathy and indifference, replaced by a turbulent era that thrust the ordinary man into extraordinary circumstances. Doubt and suspicion seeped into his thoughts, as the mere mention of Osama Bin Laden ignited a fierce hatred within him. The spectre of that heinous disaster loomed large, casting a dark shadow on the world. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 153 The next weekend at his local football club, the entire conversation between his team mates revolved around the cataclysmic event. The air was thick with emotions, the conversation continued in the pub after the game. "The Bin Laden twat would have fried us all in that airplane crash. The fucker needs shooting; they should send the Special Forces and top him." The players seemed to forge an unspoken bond, a shared understanding of the fragile state of their world. In this realm of sports and competition, they were reminded that life could change in the blink of an eye, and safety and security were not to be taken for granted. As the conversation ebbed and the beers flowed, there was an underlying unease, a lingering sense that the world had irrevocably shifted. They were no longer just footballers; they were citizens of a world grappling with the aftermath of a tragedy that shook the very foundations of their existence. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 154 In the midst of this tumultuous time, he found himself questioning the narrative, wary of the manipulations of news and information. The events surrounding Bin Laden's name felt like a maze of half-truths and hidden agendas, leaving him yearning for clarity amidst the chaos. But within the doubts and fears, he clung to the belief that their security services were the stalwart guardians of their nation, standing strong against the forces that sought to harm them. The sacrifice and dedication of those unsung heroes, he believed, was the shield that protected them from the encroaching darkness. In the crucible of post-disaster conversations, he realised that they were all united in their quest for safety and justice. The tragedy had ignited a fire within them, an unwavering resolve to stand tall against the shadows that threatened to engulf their world. The conversation became more animated as the beers were downed. "What about the Pentagon?" One exclaimed, his voice sharply cutting through the melee like a razor-sharp blade. "Where was the fucking plane?" "It crashed into the Pentagon at about a million miles an hour; for fuck's sake! What do you expect to see?" another shouted at him. "Well, a photo or a video clip might be useful. Why are they keeping them all hidden?" Yet someone else retorted. Nobody ever knew the answer except for the inevitable 'national security' response, despite the other incidents being shown on TV 24/7. What was so different about the Pentagon? He asked. Amidst the lively chatter, Archibald's voice carried a typically healthy British scepticism. "Can we really trust what the BBC dishes out, or is it all bollocks to keep us in the dark, like mushrooms", more than a touch of doubt was in his tone. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 155 The conversation shifted to the third building, and Archibald was puzzled. "Did you see it?" he exclaimed. "The BBC saying it was going to collapse half an hour before it did. How did they know? …and even when she announced it had dropped, it was still fucking standing there in the background! Explain to me how that is possible?" The room remained silent. Some wag retorted, "It was well insured though, it will cost a few bob to fix it up. The poor chap only took the lease out 2 months ago. Lucky he got special insurance to cover him against terrorists flying a plane into them. There‘s nothing to see here, folks, move along." Some chuckled at his candidness, finding humour in his plain-speaking style. But not everyone was amused; some seemed pretty pissed off. The room grew tense as sides were taken, each person grappling with the mysteries unfolding. Alex's quest for truth remained deep inside him. The shadows of doubt loomed large, but he stood firm, ready to dig deep. The timing of a lease agreement and the subsequent insurance coverage for the World Trade Centre complex, including provisions for acts of terrorism, was indeed another notable coincidence. From a purely statistical standpoint, the likelihood of such an unprecedented event occurring shortly after a lease agreement is signed might be considered unlikely. Alex certainly thought so anyway. However it may be just a coincidence, he decided to remain open minded. The pursuit of answers intensified, confronting the complexity of truth. Alex's inquisitive spirit led the way, showing a path through the fog of tales. He found The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 156 himself at odds with some people, but didn't back down. The truth mattered, no matter how hard it was to find. The room seemed to hold its breath, captivated by his mesmerizing words. Each sentence, like a finely crafted plot twist, unfolded the layers of an almost impossible to solve puzzle. Alex's words were those of a man on a mission; the resolve of a man venturing into the heart of danger. He paused for a moment, "We should question everything. These fuckers are hiding something. They certainly did when JFK was shot" They jeered, mocking his words, the inference being that he was losing his mind. The room was buzzing with a mix of reactions, captivated by Alex's words. His speech left many eager for more storytelling. Several were curious and open to questioning the status quo, willing to explore the complicated facts that lay hidden. However, not everyone shared the same sentiment. There were those who viewed Alex's inquiries with suspicion and disdain. To them, he seemed to have lost his grip on reality, daring to question the very foundations of their government. How dare he challenge the system that was meant to protect them? In their eyes, he must be some sort of radical, branded as a communist or someone who sympathized with those deemed enemies of the nation. The room became divided, as conflicting ideologies clashed. On one side, some saw Alex as a visionary, daring to challenge the status quo for the greater good. They admired his courage to question and seek the truth, even if it meant facing the wrath of his mates in the bar. On the other side, fear fuelled the dissenting voices. They regarded Alex's curiosity and suspicion as a threat to the perceived stability and security offered by their government. They preferred to remain within the familiar cocoon of unquestioning loyalty, dismissing any notion of conspiracy or hidden agendas as mere fantasy. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 157 Amidst this divide, Alex stood resolute. He knew that pursuing the truth could be a lonely and tumultuous path, but he was driven by a greater purpose - the desire to uncover the hidden realities that shaped their world. Despite the doubts and accusations, he remained steadfast in his quest for understanding, vowing not to be swayed by the opinions of others. In a world where perceptions clashed, Alex understood that the pursuit of truth required courage and an unwavering commitment to seek beyond the surface. He was prepared to weather the storm of judgment, for he believed that the truth was a precious gem, even if it lay buried beneath layers of deception. The room was divided as Alex spoke, his voice taking on a dramatic tone that held everyone's attention. "Sure," he admitted, "I suppose we can agree that a plane might have hit it. But those missing videos - it's like they vanished into thin air! The FBI controls what we see and what we are told, all to hide the truth." His words resonated with passion, as if he were carrying all of the world's hidden mysteries. Suddenly, a dissenting voice rang out, challenging Alex's perspective. "Why would they do that? You've lost the plot, mate!" The sceptic's anger was evident, dismissing Alex's claims as mere conspiracy theories. Unfazed, Alex calmly responded, "Did you ever hear what JFK said about secret societies? He knew. He fucking knew! So they killed him for speaking about it" He alluded to the famous speech by former President John F. Kennedy, suggesting that hidden forces and secret agendas might be at play However, it seemed clear that the angry voice had neither heard nor believed in such notions. "Tin hatter alert! Fucking lunatic! Piss off with your terrorist mates" Unperturbed, Alex went on to explain that the speech was made by former President John F. Kennedy about secret societies was given on April 27, 1961. He made this speech at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York City, during the American Newspaper Publishers Association's annual meeting. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 158 In the speech, Kennedy addressed the topic of secret societies and spoke about the need for a free and open society, emphasizing the importance of the press in ensuring transparency and holding the government accountable. "What he actually said was the very word secrecy is repugnant in a free and open society; and we are opposed to secret societies, to secret oaths, and to secret proceedings," Alex could almost remember the quote verbatim but not quite. However in essence he was absolutely correct He continued "So tell me, who sent the US military to Canada on the day of the attacks, and why?‖ Nobody knew the answer, but it was clear somebody had done. Yes similar drills took place twice a year. The odds of this being coincidence are also somewhat remote but nevertheless maybe it was too. "On the day of these attacks," Alex continued, "the US military was sent to Canada as part of some military training operation. Did you know? " Nobody responded. Nobody knew, but yes it was true. ―Maybe the terrorists knew too‖ shouted someone The room buzzed with curiosity as Alex's words unravelled the layers of the clandestine operation. "The name itself, for fucks sake" he remarked, "It all sounds like bollocks" Alex emphasized, his voice now carrying a sense of urgency as the beer started to affect him. He paused, allowing his audience to absorb the drama of this revelation. But on this occasion he was wrong. The military operation on that day was indeed simply a coincidence; according to the press and the BBC anyway. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 159 "What the fuck is that then, another whacko conspiracy theory like JFK?" His soccer team-mate called out. Alex responded. "Someone must have known what was going to happen, and sent just about any aircraft capable of stopping these bastards on a jolly-holiday to Canada for the day." "Why would they do that then smartass?" Alex looked bemused. ―I‘ve got no fucking idea why, but they did. Look it up" The tension in the room mounted, with a palpable divide between those who were intrigued by Alex's insights and those who vehemently opposed them. It was a clash of worldviews - one seeking to question the narrative presented by the authorities, and the other holding steadfastly to the comfort of conventional beliefs. Despite the disagreement, Alex remained undeterred. He believed in seeking the truth, even if it meant confronting uncomfortable and unpopular realities. He knew that challenging the status quo came with its share of resistance, but he was determined to explore the depths of hidden knowledge and unmask the truth. In this room of conflicting ideas, Alex realized that his journey might be a solitary one. Yet, he was willing to bear that burden, knowing that the pursuit of knowledge and understanding was a path worth treading, regardless of the challenges and opposition he faced. Alex held onto the belief that the quest for truth was a noble endeavour, even if it meant standing alone against the currents of scepticism and dissent. He saw the potential to unravel the veils of deception and bring forth the clarity and understanding that he believed the world so desperately deserved. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 160 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 161 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 162 Shadows of Revelation A few days previously, the following events were taking place several thousand miles away. In the depths of the night, when the Western world was shrouded in darkness, a top-secret meeting took place. A small group of individuals gathered, their faces masked by shadows, their voices hushed with secrecy. They were the members of a covert organisation known only as "The Revelation." Their intentions were shrouded in mystery, their motives concealed from the prying eyes of the world. Unbeknownst to the general populace, they manipulated events, carefully orchestrating a grand mixture of chaos and intrigue. A new plot began to unfold. The Revelation saw an opportunity amidst the confusion and fear, using the shockwaves of the forthcoming tragedy to further their own agenda. Their plan was multifaceted, intertwining elements of power, control, and manipulation. They exploited the vulnerabilities of governments, infiltrated intelligence agencies. Their influence extended far beyond the reaches of ordinary citizens' comprehension. Within their ranks, a terrifying figure emerged—the mastermind known only as "The Architect." This shadowy individual possessed an uncanny ability to manipulate events, leveraging coincidences and exploiting human psychology to steer the course of history. Unbeknownst to the world, The Architect had orchestrated the synchronicity of pre-planned military training exercises and the real-world attacks, using the cloak of coincidence to conceal his true intentions. The chaos that ensued provided the perfect cover for a clandestine operation. As the room fell into a hushed silence, the Architect leaned forward, his piercing eyes scanning the faces of those seated around the table. A wry smile played at the corners of his lips, exuding a sense of power and authority. His The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 163 comments hung in the air, suffocating the unsuspecting attendees. He positioned himself with the compass behind him; glowing and humming in response to his words. Each member was provided with protective eyewear, similar in nature to that worn by skiers. The Architect was no exception. As he spoke the light became brighter as his passion extolled the progress so far. "Ah, my dear colleagues," the Architect began, a snide smirk playing across his lips, his voice dripping with malice. "Do you not see the beauty of it all? The world trembles before us, and we hold the power to reshape it." The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 164 "Climate concerns? Oh, how quaint. Let them worry, the more they worry about it, is the better for us. Real estate, commodities – mere trifles compared to the grand design we orchestrate. Your stocks and your shares, your precious digital currencies; their value is subject entirely to demand. We! And only we; dictate that demand! You seek challenges, opportunities? You have come to the right place. Here, find the ultimate chance to expand your sphere of influence. Banking, financial institutions, expertise matters not; all shall bow to our dominion!" Curiosity mingled with fear as the room fell silent, gripped by his aura, and eager to know what dark revelation awaited them. ―Let me be clear and very brief. The value of gold is zero. It is a useless heavy, soft metal which, other than to make pretty jewellery, and be of vague help in the field of electro conductivity is of little or no real value. It never has been and never will be again. It is worthless junk. Oil however drives machinery, heavy and otherwise. It heats our homes and has multiple other uses including powering our trains, planes and automobiles. It is used in both industrial activities, to transport goods, to drives millions if not billions of tiny mopeds and scooters taking our minions to and from the hellish places of their employment. Then it dutifully returns them to their respective and overpriced hovels in order for them to serve again the next day. Then it repeats this process, every day, until their miserable existence is over. Gone are the days of antiquated norms, as we usher in the era of automation. Yet, we confront an inconvenient truth – the plague of overpopulation gnaws at the world's resources, threatening to exhaust its bounty. It is time for a significant change – a swift and decisive course correction. The parasites of excess must be curbed, for the world's resources are finite. We shall The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 165 embrace automation, breaking free from limitations of the past, forging a new path for the future. This transformation will leave an indelible mark upon history, as we rise to seize control and shape the world to our vision. Let the symphony of change commence, unfettered by the frivolities of the past. The flickering light from the ornate chandeliers danced across their faces, casting eerie shadows that mirrored the darkness of the plan about to be unveiled. ―Today, I present to you a pivotal topic – the power shift resulting from peak oil. This shift won't be a straightforward transfer of power from one nation to another, but rather a complex interplay of influence, economic dynamics, and energy policies across multiple countries and regions. It could be achieved overnight with the press of a few large red buttons, but the object of this exercise is to create a heaven on earth for those fortunate to remain, not a hell-scape. Therefore, an element of discretion is required.‖ Oil-dependent nations like Saudi Arabia, Russia, and some OPEC members will soon face challenges in their heavy reliance on oil exports for revenue. To mitigate vulnerability to oil price fluctuations, they may seek to diversify their economies and reduce their dependency on oil. I suggest that they start doing that from today. On the other hand, major consumers of oil like the United States, China, and India will likely aim to reduce their dependence on imported oil. To enhance their energy security, things need to change. Many things will alter this is not an optional process. Countries may redeem themselves from this gluttony; but Germany, my beloved Grandfathers Germany, can emerge as leaders in the world once more. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 166 Nations rich in renewable resources, like Norway with its hydropower, can strengthen their influence and become prominent exporters of renewable energy, contributing to global energy security. Moreover, there will be a collective global shift. Many countries, regardless of their economic or military strength, will transition gracefully, others will not. This situation will be terminal for them and we should all be aware that there will be many casualties. The power shift resulting from peak oil will be a difficult process, shaped by financial, political, and environmental factors. Different countries will respond in unique ways, depending on their available resources, policies, and societal priorities. As leader, it is crucial to embrace the situation, in doing so, we can navigate this transformational period and steer the world's future. We shall harness the forces that have shaped recent history to our advantage. The events of a few days ago at The World Trade Centre, my esteemed colleagues, were not acts of terror; they were opportunities! Opportunities, we seized, with unwavering determination." Gasps rippled through the room, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the rustling of papers. The atmosphere crackled with a potent mix of intrigue and trepidation. All eyes were fixed on the Architect, waiting for further elaboration. He continued, his voice low and deliberate, "The chaos that unfolded that day provided us with a foundation, a catalyst for our future endeavours. Through calculated manipulation, we shall exploit the fear, the vulnerability, and the desire for retribution that arose from those events." He paused, allowing his words to sink in, relishing the anticipation that hung in the air. Then, with a flourish of his hand, he motioned to a screen that illuminated with images of geopolitical conflicts and oil-rich regions. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 167 "We shall orchestrate chaos," the Architect declared, his voice resonating with an eerie determination. "As the world is engulfed in the flames of war and the thirst for resources intensifies, our organization will emerge as the puppeteer, manipulating events from the shadows. Our relentless pursuit will continue until we achieve sustainability and equality for all, for the remaining 500,000,000 inhabitants of our wonderful planet Earth!" Silence followed, as each member of the gathering absorbed the gravity of the Architect's words. The room seemed suspended in time, as if the fate of nations hung in the balance. They had become players in a game of power, where the stakes were immeasurable. And then, as if moved by a single force, they rose to their feet, chanting in unison, "Heil the Architect. Heil sustainability!" The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 168 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 169 A man named; Mr Jeffery In the intricate web of the Architect's grand plan, fate smiled upon him with a stroke of fortune—an opportune encounter with a man named Mr Jeffrey. Driven by his own insatiable desires and ego, Mr Jeffery willingly offered his services to the Architect's cause. His charm and cunning proved invaluable in furthering the Architect's dark agenda. ‗Good old Mr Jeff‘, as the Architect referred to him, assisted, with the use of blackmail and coercion against influential leaders and prominent Royals with access to decision-makers in non-compliant countries became commonplace. Mr Jeff‘s network and compromising information provided potent leverage to bend even the most resistant minds to the Architect's will. The threat of public exposure or personal ruin loomed over those who dared oppose the Architect's designs, leaving them with no choice but to acquiesce to his demands. Mr Jeff‘s mastery in manipulation and exploitation became a formidable weapon in the Architect's arsenal. Together, they orchestrated elaborate schemes that ensnared leaders in compromising situations, forever binding them to the Architect's service. The shadows of their misdeeds haunted them, compelling them to dance to the Architect's tune, their positions of power and influence now mere pawns in his grand design. As the Architect's reach extended further, dissent and resistance crumbled in the face of his cunning tactics. The global landscape became a chessboard, where leaders were mere pieces moved strategically to align with the Architect's objectives. Those who stood against him were left isolated, weakened by the weight of their secrets, and succumbing to the overwhelming power at his disposal. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 170 In this unholy alliance, the Architect and Mr Jeffery formed a symbiotic bond, feeding off each other's darkness. Mr Jeffery‘s lust for power and the Architect's insatiable hunger for control merged into a potent force that transcended boundaries. Together, they carved a path through the world, leaving behind a trail of manipulation, broken souls, and a future in their image. As this tale unfolded, world leaders trembled fully aware of the dominance held by the Architect and his sidekick; the very late and soon to become unsurprisingly, very deceased Mr Jeffery. Their alliance, built on vice and ambition, becomes an embodiment of the darkest recesses of human nature. And as the shadows deepen, so does their dominion, forever altering the course of history itself.Within the depths of the Architect's realm a dark secret lurked, one that could shatter the President's world and forever bind him to the Architect's bidding. The Architect possessed intimate knowledge from his new business associate, known only as Mr Jeffery. These were secrets of a monstrous and scandalous nature. They lay dormant, or so the President believed, in the dark recesses of their shared past. In the dimly lit room, the President sat across from the Architect, their shared history evident in the air. Their past association had been a clandestine event, concealed from prying eyes and hidden beneath layers of deceit. The Architect, with knowledge of the President's intimate vulnerabilities, held the power to expose this secret to the world. A sly smile danced upon the Architect's lips, a subtle hint of menace concealed beneath a charming façade. He had meticulously gathered evidence, to trap the President in a snare. The Architect knew that this secret, once revealed, would unravel the President's credibility and decimate his political career. The President's pulse quickened, a mixture of fear and anger boiling within his veins. He had been unaware of the Architect's insidious knowledge, believing his past had remained hidden within the recesses of their memories. Now, faced with the looming threat of exposure, he found himself at the Architect's mercy. "Mr President," the Architect purred, his voice dripping with malice. "You should clearly understand the precariousness of your situation, the delicacy of the secrets we share. One wrong move and the foundation upon which your power rests will crumble." The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 171 The President's gaze hardened, a glimmer of defiance flickering within his eyes. Yet, he knew the truth of the Architect's words. His position, his legacy, everything he had fought for was on the line. "You can't do this," the President hissed, a mix of desperation and resolve seeping through his voice. The Architect leaned in closer, his voice a mere whisper that slithered into the President's ear. "Oh, but I can, Mr President. The web I've woven extends far and wide, reaching deep into the heart of power. Your choices are simple: comply and serve my grand design, or face the ruin of your reputation and the destruction of all you hold dear." A moment of silence hung in the air, the weight of the Architect's threat pressing heavily upon the President's shoulders. He had no choice but to submit, to become a pawn in the Architect's game. The power dynamics shifted irreversibly, and the President's fate became entwined with the Architect's grand scheme. The President was trapped between the rock of his past and the hard place of the Architect's manipulation. The decisions were effectively no longer his; he merely played a part in the Architect's symphony. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 172 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 173 A time for reflection After fervently manifesting his heartfelt wish for peace, love, and equality for all humanity, Archie couldn't shake off the haunting feeling that his extraordinary dreams had somehow triggered a chain of events in the real world. This was beyond his comprehension. The world now seemed to teeter on the edge, and his unease grew with each passing day, and he was feeling in some way responsible. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 174 Within a short while of his wish, the unthinkable had happened. As news of the 9/11 attacks reached him, Archibald felt a profound sense of guilt. Had his wish inadvertently opened an otherworldly dimension to the floodgates of violence and terror? How could there possibly be a connection between his plea for peace and the catastrophic events that unfolded before the world's eyes? It certainly did not appear feasible. The burden of his actions weighed heavily upon him, and he retreated to his home in Switzerland, and he also sought comfort from his family, particularly his mother. She was now even more engrossed in her own political activism but still found time to console her son. ―You are not alone in feeling bewildered with these recent events Archie. All we can do is to not worry, and look after each other. We all hope that these terrible things will not happen again. We are here in Switzerland; we are safe. Don‘t worry son‖ These were indeed kind words which he appreciated, but did not know how to appropriately respond to. *** His parents seemed to neither understand, or see the world, nor felt the pain and anguish that he could. He escaped once more to his grandfather‘s cabin and spent time with the goats for company. Amidst the serene landscape, there was no escape from the questions that tore at his conscience. Hiding away in the heart of the Swiss Alps, Archibald took refuge in the company of his grandfather's spirit, hoping for answers. He searched for any clues that might shed light on the calamity that had befallen the world. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 175 As he pondered the compass's mystique, he began to recognise that true peace wasn't a simple wish granted by a magical artefact. It was a complex interplay of human will, global dynamics, and unforeseen consequences. The path to peace required not just the desire for harmony but also a profound understanding of the intricacies of the world's conflicts. Archibald's journey took on new meaning. He no longer saw himself as a mere wish-maker but as someone whose good intentions could have alarming consequences. The responsibility weighed heavily on his heart, but he resolved to be steadfast in his pursuit of truth and peace. Archibald became enmeshed in the cosmic conflict between light and shadow, good and evil. He believed that he was a compassionate and kind person, but like all humans, underneath he could be ruthless. Nothing else mattered except "equality, peace and diversity" to Archibald, it had become an obsession to him. It didn‘t concern him how this was achieved, even if it risked global Armageddon. The fate of all nations hung in the balance, and he was the one destined to unveil the final act. Archibald's knew that he was not just a player in this grand performance, but a conductor, orchestrating the symphony. Like many before him, he had developed a lust for power and control and it began to concern him. "He called Maya, whom he had been avoiding for quite some time. He wasn't even certain if she would be willing to speak with him, considering how long it had been—though the exact duration escaped him. He was eager to discuss the powers of the compass with her, so he decided to give her a call. 'Hello, Maya. It's Archie,' he said when she answered. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 176 'Hi, stranger; what took you so long to tell me about the compass?' she quipped immediately. 'Um, what do you mean?' he stammered, cautious not to reveal too much too soon. 'Mom knows; she told me about it. You have one of three of these devices. They were left on Earth by aliens a long time ago!' Archie burst into laughter. 'Don't play around with me, Maya. How about coming over for some coffee?' 'I'm not joking. I will come over to your grandfather's cabin. There's something important I need to discuss with you. Now is the time, I believe.'" They both made their way to the cabin and met shortly afterward. 'Archie, have you decided what to do with the gold?' she asked, smiling. 'Not yet,' he replied. 'There's something else I want to discuss with you. I have to give a presentation to world leaders at the conference centre about achieving ‗sustainability‘' 'Oh that sounds fascinating; she sarcastically responded. There's something important I need to talk to you about,' she said. 'Mine is important too,' Maya added." "You tell me first," said Maya. "Then I have something I seriously need to ask." "Okay," said Archie. "I can hardly believe what I'm going to tell you. This compass has magical powers. I can do anything with it—anything! I am like god when I get it working properly." "I know," she replied. "Mom told me. But you can only tap into those powers when you're under the influence of mushrooms, right?" "I'm not sure," he said. "I hadn't realized. I just thought I was controlling it." "You can and have done exactly what you wanted with this device. I also want you to help me find out what happened to my grandmother by using it." The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 177 "Sure, I will, if that's possible." "I need to do it myself," she said. "And I want Mom to help me. Is that okay with you?" Archie loved her dearly, but he really didn't want to share the compass's powers with anyone else on the planet. He hadn't told his parents, and he didn't particularly want to talk to Maya about it. He was achieving his goals, so why should he give it up? What if they kept it from him? His mind became almost paranoid with concerns. "Yes, you are controlling it because the chemicals clear your mind from all the programming. However, my mom, my grandmother, and I can do it anytime due to our spiritual knowledge and ancestry." "I will call my mother to meet us here. We must not be disturbed for a while. You may sit with us, but you must be silent. Mother has not communicated with her own mother for a very long time. If she is alive, then this may be the only way to do so." He agreed; what else could he say? Build a fire outside Archie; we need to be in nature. He lit a fire outside as she requested and made the living room comfortable for himself too; it was getting very cold. The light faded, and they waited for Silvermoon to arrive. She was no more than an hour away. In the depths of the night, beneath a canopy of stars, the two gypsy girls, Maya and Ivana; ‗Silvermoon‘, gathered around the fire that crackled and flickered with an almost otherworldly intensity. The flames cast eerie shadows on the trees around them, and the air was thick with anticipation as they prepared to communicate with the spirit world for answers that could lead them to their missing grandmother whether she be dead or alive. Dressed in garments adorned with symbols of ancient mysticism, Maya and her mother sat cross-legged. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 178 Their eyes were closed and their hands rested gently on their knees. A soft wind rustled the leaves nearby, as if the very forest held its breath, aware of the solemn connection taking place. Maya's mother, her voice a hushed incantation, began to chant words that seemed to resonate with the very energy of the earth itself. Maya joined in, her voice intertwining with her mother's, creating a haunting melody that echoed through the night. As their chant rose and fell like the rhythm of a heartbeat, the fire's glow intensified, casting an ethereal glow on their faces. The air seemed to shimmer with a newfound energy, as if the spirits of the forest were drawn to their invocation, drawn to aid them in their quest. With every chant, every whispered plea, their spirits seemed to expand outward, reaching beyond the physical realm and into the unknown. They sought the wisdom of ancestors who had once walked these lands, spirits who might guide them to their grandmother's whereabouts. Images began to form in their minds—visions of a desolate landscape, a place where secrets were hidden and mysteries were kept. They saw glimpses of high fences, guarded entrances, and structures hidden beneath the ground. The images seemed to overlap, revealing a place both hidden and infamous, a place known as Area 51. The gypsy women's voices grew stronger, their connection deepening. They felt the presence of their captive grandmother, her spirit resonating within them like an echo across the void. They sent their thoughts, their love, and their determination into the universe, hoping to reach her in her distant confinement. The fire crackled in response, sparks rising like embers carrying their intentions into the night sky. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 179 As their chants gradually softened, the forest seemed to sigh, as if the spirits of nature themselves were aiding in their mission. Opening their eyes, Maya and her mother exchanged a knowing look. In that moment, by the fire's glow, they felt a renewed sense of purpose. The revelation that their grandmother was captive but alive in a place far from their home was both unsettling and invigorating. With the guidance of the spirit world, they had uncovered a lead—a glimmer of hope that would guide them in their journey to rescue her from the clutches of Area 51. They let the fire burn low, its dying embers casting a warm, fading light on their determined faces. In that remote forest, connected to the spirit world and armed with newfound knowledge, Maya and her mother knew their path was clear. They would now activate the power of the ancient compass, a mysterious artefact left on Earth by aliens; it was time to embark on their quest. They went indoors where it was warmer in the cabin. The compass found its place to the stained coffee table, Maya's gaze then turned to Archie. ―We need to make it work,‖ Magic and science began to fuse inside the cabin, blending reality with extraterrestrial time shifting. Maya and her mother, Silvermoon now embarked on a quest to uncover the truth behind Maya's missing grandmother, Zara. With the ancient compass as their guide, Maya's visions became glimpses into a complex web of secrets and captivity. The connection they shared with the mystical artefact heightened, revealing fragments of Zara's whereabouts—a trail of whispers leading to the depths of Area 51 in the United States. In their fervent search, Maya and Silvermoon discovered Zara's fate and her communication with unknown entities. Armed with the knowledge that a second compass was near Zara, the power of both compasses began to merge and accumulate. Silvermoon's spiritual wisdom embarked on a daring plan to free Zara from her confinement. With the cosmos as their witness, they sent a plea for aid to the very beings Zara had so often communicated with; the aliens, some still in Area 51; others not. It seemed that they were keen to oblige; Zara has been a much respected contact for them and they were to be more than obliging. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 180 They were about to illuminate the path to their beloved Zara, revealing the ties that bound her to both captors and cosmic allies. Direct communication with Zara was not possible at this time. Nevertheless, they were each assured by the spirit world that she was in reasonably good health. Similarly, Zara had been advised of her daughter and granddaughter's attempts to secure her release. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 181 In this enchanted land of Switzerland, where snow-capped mountains touched the, a tale of wonder was about to unfold. Maya, Silvermoon, and Archie found themselves in this magical realm, where the compasses' powers shimmered with a charm that maybe only such a place could offer. As the World Economic Forum event drew near, Archie decided to orchestrate something that would enchant even the stars themselves. With the snow-kissed landscapes as their canvas, Using the compass as his guide he invited the aliens to experience the magic of Switzerland in a way that defied the ordinary. In the heart of the Swiss Alps, Archie and the aliens embarked on an extraordinary journey. Through fields of snow and forests that whispered secrets, they set out to learn the art of snowboarding—a dance that humans and aliens alike could share. The aliens, with their unearthly grace, infused their movements with a cosmic elegance, and Archie's laughter echoed through the valleys as he guided them. Yet, this was only the beginning of their enchanting adventure. Under the guidance of Silvermoon's mystical wisdom, they stumbled upon a patch of magical mushrooms, known to locals for their mischievous allure. With laughter and a sense of camaraderie that spanned galaxies, they partook in the mushrooms' dance, watching the world transform into a kaleidoscope of colours and wonder. Amidst the twinkling stars and the iridescent glow of the magic mushrooms, Archie and the aliens shared stories. The aliens, who had travelled through the cosmos, found themselves captivated by the tales of Earth. History shared, the dreams, and the ordinary miracles that made each world unique. They learned that the true magic of Switzerland and of Earth itself lay not just in its landscapes, but in the stories shared by its inhabitants. As dawn painted the sky with hues of gold and lavender, Archie stood at the cusp of a new day. The World Economic Forum awaited, but he carried with him the memories of a night that defied time and space. The cabin in the Swiss mountains had become a nexus of friendship and enchantment, a place where The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 182 humans and aliens danced beneath the stars, where laughter and magic flowed as freely as the mountain streams. With the compasses' guidance and the memory of that enchanted night, Archie stepped onto the stage of the forum. The aliens, who had learned to snowboard and share in Earth's whimsies, watched with cosmic curiosity. As Archie began to speak, his words echoed not just his own story, but the story of a night in Switzerland where boundaries blurred, and the impossible became possible. A tale of a magical land. As Maya, Silvermoon, and Archie delved deeper into their quest, the world around them grew increasingly tumultuous. News had spread like wildfire: Archie the Architect was scheduled to speak at the prestigious World Economic Forum (WEF) as a special guest, drawing the attention of world leaders and corporate giants. The global elite were preparing to convene, and a wave of anticipation rippled across the international stage. Yet, as the countdown to the WEF ticked on, a shadowy dance of intrigue was unfolding in the background. The compasses, imbued with mystical power, had garnered the attention of formidable players on the world stage. The CIA and Mossad had caught wind of the artefacts‘ capabilities, recognizing the potential they held to shape the balance of power. These intelligence agencies began manoeuvring in the shadows, attempting to secure the compasses for their own ends. But they were not the only ones seeking the compasses' power. A gang of Romany criminals, known for their prowess in obtaining rare and the esoteric, had set their sights on the compasses, viewing them as the ultimate prize to enhance their reputation and fortune. Simultaneously, the Russians, always vigilant for opportunities to gain an edge, entered the fray, drawn by the mystique and potency of the ancient relics. In the midst of this maelstrom, Maya, Silvermoon, and Archie found themselves unwittingly at the centre of a geopolitical storm. The compasses, once cherished The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 183 for their enigmatic potential, had now become objects of danger, coveted by factions with vast resources and unforgiving agendas. As the world leaders and corporations prepared to descend upon the WEF, a palpable tension hung in the air. The imminent collision of interests loomed, threatening to shatter the fragile equilibrium and plunge the world into chaos. Maya and her allies understood that the compasses' power held not only the key to Zara's freedom but also the potential to either uplift humanity or unleash unprecedented destruction. In the face of these converging forces, Maya, Silvermoon, and Archie knew that their mission was no longer confined to the rescue of Zara. The compasses' destiny was entwined with the fate of nations and the delicate tapestry of alliances that held the world together. With allies and adversaries‘ alike closing in, the stage was set for a high-stakes showdown where every decision would quite literally reverberate across time and space. PHOTOS HERE In the gentle embrace of the Swiss morning, Maya and Silvermoon stood outside the cabin, their excitement radiating like sunlight on fresh snow. With their hearts alight and a banner that bore the words "Aliens Welcome," they waited for the cosmic guests who would soon descend from the stars. As the first tendrils of dawn painted the sky in shades of rose and gold, the air crackled with anticipation. The forest seemed to hold its breath, and the mountains stood as silent sentinels, bearing witness to a moment that defied the ordinary. With the banner billowing in the breeze, Maya and Silvermoon held hope close to their hearts. The words "Aliens Welcome" were not just a declaration; they The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 184 were a promise of unity, a testament to the bonds forged between worlds. In that simple gesture, the gypsy girls conveyed their open hearts and their belief in the extraordinary. As the sun peeked over the horizon, casting a warm glow upon the snow-kissed landscape, a ripple of energy coursed through the air. The aliens, beings of light and wonder, materialized before Maya and Silvermoon's astonished eyes. Their presence was ethereal, a manifestation of cosmic friendship that transcended the boundaries of the tangible world. In a moment that resonated with the magic of the universe, the gypsy girls and the cosmic visitors stood face to face. There were no words, for the language of the heart needed no translation. With smiles that reached from Earth to the stars, they exchanged a silent greeting—a welcome that echoed across galaxies. The aliens' arrival was as gentle as the morning breeze. They carried with them an air of grace and mystery, and their presence seemed to infuse the very air with a sense of wonder. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 185 The banner that read "Aliens Welcome" fluttered above them, its message a symbol of the unity that had been woven between these disparate realms. And as the gypsy girls and the cosmic visitors stood together, an unspoken promise lingered in the air. The tale that had begun with magic mushrooms and snowboarding had now reached a new chapter—one of alliance and friendship that reached far beyond the confines of Earth. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 186 A far higher number of the aliens arrived to provide the assistance required and it seemed that they all required feeding and somewhere to sleep. Maya and her mother attempted to communicate with them but the visitors skills were somewhat lacking despite claims that they were all scientists or engineers on the spacecraft. They seemed a jolly enough bunch though and seemed particularly appreciative of the attention thrust upon them by the two women. But it seemed that there simply wernt enough toilets and showers to accommodate everyone; nevertheless Archie was greatful for their attendance and it seemed that \the The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 187 girls were happy with it too. Nevertheless it wasn‘t long before the Aliens had had enough and wanted better accommodation. Maya and Silvermoon, attempted to encourage them to build their own place to live in or even grow some vegetables; with limited success. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 188 The welcome was a wonderful reflection on day modern life; inclusivity at its finest. Silvermoon and Maya prepared to welcome the guests in accordance with their previous sociable ways and soon the frivolities and subsequent training period for Archie‘s security began. Ivana drew on her Bosnian experiences and briefed Maya. The two would oversee the security operation and the aliens would provide the possible requirement for enforcement should it be required. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 189 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 190 Alex the Hunter Through the smoke and debris of that fateful day, a fire had been kindled within Alex's soul. A fire inside drove him to unravel the truth, to confront the machinations that now dictated the course of nations. He would also embark on a journey that would test his mettle, push the boundaries of his courage, and lead him to ask a lot of difficult questions. Alex was an extraordinary individual, a living embodiment of the extraordinary capabilities that can reside within a mind attuned to a different frequency. He existed within the spectrum, navigating the world with a distinct lens that conferred both remarkable talents and distinct challenges. His prowess in the realm of cyber security was nothing short of genius, even in the nascent digital landscape of 2001. Code, encryption, and digital networks became his playground—a sanctuary where his focused attention and methodical thinking thrived. With each keystroke, he orchestrated a symphony of algorithms, decrypting and dissecting with an intuitive fluency that surpassed even seasoned experts. In his world of surveillance, Alex's talent was akin to a digital sixth sense. While interpersonal cues might elude him, patterns within the virtual landscape were revealed with astounding clarity. Like a guardian of the digital realm, he could discern the faintest ripples in the data stream, detecting anomalies that held the key to understanding hidden intentions. Strategic planning was where Alex truly shone. His mind was a masterwork of structured logic and systematic reasoning. While navigating social nuances could be perplexing, the complexity of cyber security scenarios was his domain. He could analyse threat landscapes, foresee potential outcomes, and devise intricate defence mechanisms that left his peers in awe. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 191 Amid his brilliance, Alex faced challenges that often isolated him. Social intricacies were puzzles to be deciphered; emotions were shades that eluded his grasp. Yet, these hurdles never overshadowed the brilliance that marked him as exceptional. In a world that sometimes struggled to comprehend his way of being, Alex's dedication to his craft was unwavering. Even in the evolving landscape of cyber security in 2001, it was not just his profession—it was his calling, his lifeline. While ordinary human interactions might bewilder him, the symphony of code, strategy, and surveillance was where he found his true rhythm. Alex was ‗special‘ in many ways but to the casual observer he was quite boring; ordinary. His friendship and collaboration with those who valued his talents became a force that pushed him to excel, innovate, and redefine the boundaries of possibility. In modern life, or his workplace where secrets are currency, it all began. Alex Hunter had been aptly named. He would soon discover his own resourcefulness. It would forge him into a force to be reckoned with, unyielding in his pursuit of justice and truth. The date 9/11/2001 would forever be etched in his memory, serving as a catalyst for a transformation he could never have foreseen. From the simplicity of his former existence, Alex would emerge as a man of purpose, willing to risk everything to uncover the secrets that lay hidden in the darkest corners of the world. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 192 *** Archibald the Architect's plan had started to unfold, but whilst he revelled in his intellectual prowess, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake, Alex was on to him. The Architect's schemes surpassed mere control; they aimed to reshape the world according to his twisted vision, a testament to his cunning brilliance. Alex strongly disagreed with these actions, and rightfully so. His voice held equal value to anyone else's, and he was a daring risk-taker. Both Alex and Archibald the Architect were about to share another purpose; a sole existence on the planet, a raison d'etre. Vis-a-vies each of them was trying to save the human race, regardless of how they achieved that objective. ‗The Architect‘ had operated with remarkable subterfuge, and precise calculation. His influence extended far and wide, with a network of operatives; intricately woven into society like a complex puzzle, intricately connected within society. Exploiting the inevitable scarcity of oil, he weaponised every crisis for personal gain, causing nations and economies to reel under the weight of uncertainty and turmoil. The Architect's web of influence unravelled like a taut thread, revealing its malevolent schemes to the harsh light of truth, and as the world grappled with an unfolding energy crisis, a turning point beckoned. Kneeling before the compass, he recognised the significance of this earthshattering moment. The world's destiny now rested in his hands, an opportunity to shape the course of history, and it had already begun. There was no way back now. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 193 Archibald knew that his next move would resonate across generations, setting the stage for a new era. As the candle's flame danced with the fateful dance of fate, World-changing events loomed large; Archibald felt the body of the compass in his hand. It was no ordinary artefact; its power pulsed beneath his fingertips; a force that held the potential to shape the very fabric of destiny. Money and power were mere trifles to the Architect; he wielded them effortlessly, as if they were at his beck and call. His insatiable hunger went far beyond material riches, for he possessed something much more potent—a mastery over the entire world. With a flick of his fingers, chaos unfurled, and nations trembled under his orchestrated mayhem. He revelled in this dance of destruction, knowing that he held the key to the very fabric of society. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 194 Area 51, Zara and the Aliens In the labyrinthine recesses of Area 51, Zara persisted in her exchanges with the alien visitors. Amidst those unknown corridors, she stood as a solitary figure among an assembly of uniquely skilled individuals—each effortlessly interacting with these cosmic guests. Here, cloaked within classified domains, a revelation emerged—the second compass, its origins enshrouded in mystery. Zara's role transcended the mundane; it stretched beyond the mere accumulation of knowledge, manifesting as a coded dialogue with entities spanning galaxies—a clandestine discourse steeped in intrigue. As the veil of secrecy enfolded the facility, Zara's covert connection crystallized. The compass, a relic born beyond the celestial realm, beckoned her toward the nucleus of an interstellar conversation. Yet, Zara's involvement exceeded earthly confines. In a mutual exchange, she bore a mantle that resonated with her Roma heritage—a custodian of mystic arts. Her teachings weren't constrained by earthly boundaries; they reverberated across the cosmic tapestry, binding her to emissaries from distant realms. In the hushed chambers, the dual nature of this exchange unfolded—a symphony of human wisdom swapped for cosmic insight, an intricate partnership. With each shared lesson, every whispered revelation, Zara nurtured a bond that traversed the confines of time and space. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 195 In this clandestine interplay, the compass stood as a linchpin—an anchor of connections that defied conventional comprehension. Amid these covert dealings, Zara's role remained a mystery that resonated beyond the sterile precincts of Area 51. As fates converged, the intrigue surged—an overture to a narrative spanning both the ethereal and the tangible. The compass, an unassuming conductor, orchestrated the choreography of Zara's mystic arts and her communion with extra-terrestrial entities. A tale of secrets, poised for its zenith within the complex destiny. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 196 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 197 Archibald the Architect‘s next move Archibald awoke at his late grandfather‘s cabin, using the last cable car and travelling to the cabin on his snowboard. The compass was secure inside a rucksack on his back. When he arrived he lit a fire, thawed out and settled to meditate; contemplating his next move. He relaxed deeply, and soon cosmic energy was again running through him. It defied the laws of physics, causing nearby objects to levitate, suspend in the air as if bewitched by a force beyond comprehension. The very air bristled with anticipation, and Archibald felt an unseen hand guiding him forward. In this extraordinary convergence of forces, Archibald knew he was no longer a mere mortal but an instrument of fate. With each word he spoke, the essence of truth seemed to permeate the air, dispelling the veils of deception that had clouded the world's vision for far too long. He was the conductor of a grand symphony, and the universe awaited his orchestration. The room, now a theatre of ethereal power, throbbed with an energy that transcended earthly boundaries. As the lights returned to their natural glow, the compass exuded a soft, contented radiance, as though it had found its rightful guardian. The cosmic forces that had surged through the room now settled, bound to the purpose of this chosen man. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 198 Now that no more oil could be efficiently obtained and societal breakdown was coming; it could not arrive soon enough. Archibald set about devising new ideologies to save humanity and to seek retribution on those who had damaged it and caused so much unhappiness. His first idea was to create a cacophony of carnage for those countries involved in the slave trade. He spoke to the compass and it lit a magnificent green ember. He stared into the light and called out ―today I want one of the countries that had slaves and took slaves and sold slaves to be severely punished!‖ The compass illuminated the room and flashed and hummed a series of glowing bright lights. The humming became almost deafening and for the first time Archie became afraid of it. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 199 He could not see what was happening if anything, but a few minutes later the magnificent if somewhat startling display desisted. Right, he thought, ‗I will wait until tomorrow and go and see if anything has been reported in the newspapers.‘ The following morning, he rushed to the local newspaper shop to find a queue of locals staring in amazement at the headlines. He joined in to look to see if there was anything connected with his anticipated manifestation. He was quite disappointed to see that nothing relating to his wish had materialized. The news of the day seemed to be dominated by a story in Morocco, where it seemed that overnight a civil war had broken out, and their entire economy was on the verge of collapse. This, in turn, had affected several other places in a domino effect: Italy, Greece, Portugal, Israel, and several African countries. But there was no reference to slave-owning or trading countries such as the USA or Great Britain, so perhaps his manifestation didn‘t happen. Perhaps they had been omitted from the hit list because they were the first ones ever to truly address the problems as Maya had said in her presentation? He‘d certainly never heard of any of these countries being involved in slavery in all of his education, so maybe she was right? He glanced at the newspapers and could see they were writing a lot about something called the Barbary pirates, which he assumed may be a new movie release. Hey, he thought, didn‘t Maya mention them too? The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 200 The only other news seemed to in relation to a series of meteors which had been seen heading towards Istanbul, and another place called Bilecik-Söğüt, which he had never heard of, but it was apparently in Turkey and the heart of the old Ottoman Empire; whatever that was. Everyone seemed to be panicking but meteors often skim passed the Earth, it‘s probably just another coincidence. . It sounded like a lot of fuss about nothing to Archie and was definitely unrelated to slavery, he was certain about that. Archie decided to check back at the newspaper stand the following day when the entire furore had subsided, to see if anything of relevance had happened. Maybe the papers were just slow in reporting it. The Architects web. by Ella Hartman Secure all of the oil Having orchestrated the collapse of the World Trade Centre, the Architect moved skilfully through the ensuing chaos, leveraging the event to permit; no, demand financial changes that secure him indescribable wealth and influence within the power circles. He exploits the market fluctuations caused by the attacks, engaging in stock market manipulation that yields him unprecedented profits. His advance knowledge of the event allows him to strategically position himself, making well-timed trades that capitalize on the ensuing volatility. Not content with stock market gains alone, the Architect delves into the realm of real estate acquisitions. In the aftermath of the attacks, he seized the opportunity to acquire many valuable properties at discounted prices, amassing a vast portfolio that further enhances his wealth and control. With his shrewd eye for opportunity, he identified areas directly impacted by the tragedy and invested strategically, knowing that the revitalization efforts and increased demand would bring substantial returns in the long run. Furthermore, the Architect exploits his insider knowledge and connections to engage in illegal insider trading. With access to confidential information about companies affected by the 9/11 attacks, he navigates the complex web of financial markets, making well-informed trades that yield immense profits. His ability to exploit this privileged information goes unnoticed, further cementing his wealth and influence. Beyond financial manipulation, the Architect capitalizes on the global unrest and the United States' focus on its own security to broker advantageous business deals on an international scale. His intricate network of connections grants him access to high-stakes negotiations, particularly within the energy sector. Through secretive and covert means, he secures lucrative contracts and partnerships that bolster his financial empire and solidify his position as a key player in the global power structure. In the years to come The Architect remained elusive and manipulated many events like the Financial Crisis of 2008, the Arab Spring, and the Syrian Civil War, which all had significant global impact. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 1 The Architect had a goal obtaining total control over the world major oil fields. He had a particular yearning to acquire the Russian oil fields. In order to achieve this objective he also initiated the Ukraine Crisis' and to this day continues to do so. This must be achieved before the world‘s oil finally runs out. He influenced the rise of ISIS which also had far-reaching consequences. The goal was always the same; population reduction, leading a life of eternal paradise; but only for the Compass‘ chosen 500 million. His influence the political landscape could be misinterpreted as being dictatorial, but this is simply not the case. It is pure altruism, intended solely to save us all from ourselves. As they say, 'an omelette was never made without cracking a few eggs'. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 2 Donations to political campaign, bribery of influential figures, and the establishment of a network of loyal supporters afforded him the ability to shape policies and decisions that further align with his financial interests. He becomes a puppet master behind the scenes, pulling the strings of power and perpetuating his own dominance. As the Architect's web of financial manipulation and influence grows, so does the magnitude of his control. He becomes a shadowy figure whose actions shape not only the economic landscape but also the geopolitical balance of power. The world remains oblivious to his true intentions behind promoting ‗equality and diversity' and the mystical forces guiding his actions. One such event was the Arab Spring, a wave of uprisings and revolutions that swept across the Middle East and North Africa. From Tunisia to Egypt, Libya to Syria, the region was engulfed in turmoil, leading to political instability and a massive influx of refugees. Behind the scenes, the Architect exploited the chaos, unrest and manipulating factions to his advantage. Amidst the swirling turmoil orchestrated by the Architect, the influx of refugees emerged as a poignant and heart-breaking subplot. As these countries faced the relentless onslaught of cyber-attacks, and covert operations, the consequences rippled beyond their borders, giving rise to a growing humanitarian crisis—the influx of refugees. As chaos enveloped these nations, the Architect's malevolent tactics destabilized governments, shattered economies, and fanned the flames of internal conflict. With the fabric of society torn asunder, people were left with no choice but to flee their homes in search of safety and hope. Refugee camps sprouted at the fringes of neighbouring countries, teeming with desperate families seeking shelter from the storm of destruction. The harrowing stories of loss and survival echoed through the tents, recounting the horrors of war, oppression, and displacement. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 3 The Architect, uncaring and indifferent to the plight he had indirectly caused, saw this humanitarian crisis as an opportunity—a tool to exert further pressure on them. By manipulating global organizations and media narratives, he painted the refugees as the result of these countries' resistance, exploiting his vulnerability to gain sympathy and support from the international community. Within many countries, the influx of refugees stoked further divisions, adding to the turmoil and heightening the sense of instability. As resources strained to accommodate the displaced masses, the resentment towards these refugees became a convenient distraction, deflecting attention from the true orchestrator of their suffering—the Architect himself. Meanwhile, international aid and support poured into the regions hosting the refugees, their humanitarian needs drawing the world's attention. In this twisted game, the Architect leveraged this global spotlight to further isolate these countries, portraying them as responsible for the crisis they had inadvertently created. As the story unfolded, the refugees became living symbols of the Architect's malevolence, his manipulative tactics and relentless pursuit of power leaving a trail of human suffering in their wake. The plight of these displaced souls resonated with the readers, showcasing the true cost of the Architect's dark ambition and the vast consequences of his actions. The narrative of the influx of refugees served as a stark reminder that the Architect's actions transcended mere geopolitical machinations. Behind the facade of power and control, the lives of innocent people were forever altered, caught in the crossfire of a battle they never asked for. The message to every government was clear. Comply or this will be you. Any country which resisted to burden the financial cost or sociological impact was immediately castigated as racist, uncaring or both; consequently most complied or faced devastation at the polling booths and civil unrest. The refugees served as a strategic tool that the Architect used to exert pressure on European countries that even dare hesitate to comply with his grand plan. As The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 4 chaos and destabilization of several countries continued, the humanitarian crisis of refugees spilled over into neighbouring regions, particularly Europe. Those refugees fleeing from the chaos and conflict, created a massive humanitarian crisis at Europe's borders. European countries were faced with the moral dilemma of providing assistance and shelter to the displaced. The sheer magnitude of the crisis strained resources, infrastructure, and social services, leading to internal debates and divisions within the European nations. The sudden arrival of a large number of refugees raised justifiable security concerns for European countries. Among the genuine asylum-seekers, there were several individuals who exploited the situation to enter European territories with ulterior motives. European governments grappled with the challenge of distinguishing between genuine refugees and potential security threats, leading to heightened vigilance and scrutiny at border checkpoints; not to mention internal conflict. As such, the situation became a highly contentious political issue within European countries. Different political factions adopted divergent stances on how to handle the crisis. Some parties advocated for a more open and compassionate approach, while others pushed for stricter border controls and a more restrictive immigration policy. This political division led to internal strife, conflicts within European nations and political change. He leveraged the refugee crisis to further isolate dissident countries on the international stage. He manipulated global organizations, such as the United Nations and the European Union, to portray the European countries' reluctance to comply as a lack of empathy and responsibility in addressing the humanitarian crisis. This diplomatic strain created huge reputational damage and potential diplomatic repercussions for several European countries. Hosting and providing for a significant number of refugees placed a considerable economic burden on European nations. The need to allocate resources for housing, healthcare, education, and social welfare for the refugees affected national budgets and impacted on already pressurised public services. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 5 This financial strain in turn created public discontent and increased pressure on European governments to find a resolution to the crisis. In a nutshell, they must comply or receive more of the same. The presence of a large refugee population within European countries also gave rise to challenges related to social integration. Cultural differences, language barriers, and societal adjustments often created tensions and frictions within host communities. European governments faced the task of facilitating the integration of refugees while maintaining social cohesion. Overall, the influx of refugees serves as a multifaceted pressure point that the Architect exploited to push European countries towards compliance with his grand plan. By manipulating the humanitarian crisis and diplomatic complexities, the Architect sought to weaken the resolve of resistant European governments and further his malevolent agenda. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 6 As the tale of deception evolved, the Architect's relentless quest for dominance played out against the backdrop of a world on the brink of collapse. As the influx of refugees intensified, so too did the web of intrigue and manipulation, culminating in a crescendo of darkness and despair, with the fate of nations and lives hanging in the balance. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 7 Alex's Journey to Israel Driven by an unwavering determination ignited by the events of 9/11, Alex embarked on a path to uncover the truth. Unbeknownst to him, his quest would lead him into a clandestine world when he joined a private security company in London, which concealed an undercover affiliation with the Israeli Intelligence Service. As Alex delved into his new role, the pieces of a complex puzzle began to take shape, exposing hidden agendas and intrigue. Driven by duty and a thirst for the truth, he found himself caught in a dangerous game of espionage, where danger lurked at every corner. His connection with Mossad, Israel's national intelligence agency brought him face to face with influential figures, propelling him up the ranks and granting him access to classified information. Yet, as he climbed higher within the organization, a shadowy undercurrent emerged. Whispers of covert operations and concealed motives intensified his determination to uncover the full truth. With every step forward, Alex entered a realm where loyalties were uncertain, forcing him to navigate carefully to protect his integrity and principles. His journey toward the pinnacle of his career intersected with a mission to unveil the hidden machinations around him. Alex's path led him to an Israeli kibbutz, an intentional community. His presence there was no accident; he had been directed by a network of allies within the company who recognized his skills and resolve. "Alex," the leader of the board addressed him directly, "To be direct, we've recognized your unique talents for this line of work. From this point onward, we demand your unwavering commitment to our cause. You have only one chance to respond, and no time for contemplation. You'll receive minimal information in advance. If you decline, you'll return to London unharmed, no hard feelings. If you agree, which we anticipate, you'll remain here until the mission is accomplished. Is this crystal clear? Yes or no?" The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 8 Alex hesitated, sceptical of the offer's sincerity. Nevertheless, he replied, "Yes," albeit with a hint of uncertainty. "Understand, there's no turning back now. This decision is final. It's as immutable as the wisdom etched into the Georgia Guidestones, guiding our course of action. And it's non-negotiable. You'll safeguard this secret as if it were heaven's vault—a secret never to leave these walls. Do you comprehend the consequences of violating this pact? Yes or no?" "Yes, Sir," Alex replied, his uncertainty still evident. "Years ago, our agents extracted a young woman from the turmoil of what was once Yugoslavia—a Roma named Zara. This was conducted in complete cooperation with our friends and colleagues in the United States. This Roma possessed extraordinary gifts that resonated with our mutual security. Though that era was rife with conflict, it was unrelated to our goals and indirectly connected with ourselves in and discernable manner. Do you understand this distinction?" The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 9 "Yes." "This woman bore a female child; her presence, at that juncture, wasn't pertinent, thus the agents opted to leave her in the care of kin while airlifting the talented Roma mother, not entirely of her volition. After some discussions with our American colleagues, she agreed to participate fully; we eventually took her to the scientific research centre known as Area 51." "Understood?" The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 10 Yes "She's there now and she‘s safe. She communicates as part of a team with beings you may describe as extra-terrestrials. ―Wow‖ Never mind your childlike responses; are you up to this mission or not ? Yes Sir. Alex responded, now recognising who was truly in control of the conversation. Then shut the fuck up and listen! Her oldest child grew older and also quite talented. We arranged for her to be removed to safety in Switzerland where we arranged via Mr. Jeffery for her to be supervised by our dept. She‘s safe too; unfortunately. He looked around the room but the others avoided eye contact. We undertook this to control the mother, and to needed to ensure her compliance. The one, named Ivana, still lives there, inheriting her mother's exceptional gift. Do you get it so far?" "I do." With a crash, the table shook. "Yes or no?" "Yes," he answered, feeling the weight of the moment. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 11 Despite his own particular talents in the field of financial expertise our operative in Switzerland lacked discretion in the gentlemen‘s department, and prematurely sired a child with her. This was not yet part of our plan. You follow? Yes ―We attempted to resolve this indiscretion permanently, on the child‘s arrival however this was not practicable for a number of reasons. Other means were adopted, and the child and mother were permitted to live. He is aged 6 years old and still on our radar for use in the future. He needs to be protected at all costs. The other child is now an adult. She wields both the ancestral, paranormal sensitivity; and also carries a high- functioning bloodline of one of our prime operatives her mother was ‗introduced to‘ in her homeland. She is indeed a very ‗talented‘ but dangerous young woman. Compounding the previous information, she now holds access to a unique esoteric device, which they describe as a compass. It is far more than that and combined with her paranormal power she can, and will continue to unleash global havoc; she continues as we waste this valuable time. She is a true wild card; a force that urgently requires control. She's linked with a boy who's granting her access to this "compass," a term that belies its true potential. He's a naive Swiss snowboarding dreamer. He is ignorant of the unspoken knowledge, and she's masterfully manipulating his thoughts. Your mission: to halt this perilous trajectory before it spells catastrophe for our people, and the world at large. Do you accept? Confirm your clear understanding of our prior discourse before you respond. Yes. ―I‘m more than happy to hear it. Her name is Maya. The boy is merely a catalyst but is referred to as Archibald. He calls himself ‗the Architect‘ and is under the delusion that it is he is actually controlling this device. This is far from accurate. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 12 Tomorrow you leave for the kibbutz; for education and training. Good luck; do not fail. Consequences of such failure will be severe. Tell me that you fully understand‖ Yes At the kibbutz, he encountered not just the wisdom of the elders but also a group of specialist and wise individuals who possessed knowledge beyond the ordinary. They revealed that they had been watching Alex the Architect and Maya closely, recognizing his potential to be a formidable force against The Architect's schemes. In the beating heart of Israel, Alex was directed to an old and wise sage named Havi, who, guided by the ancient teachings of the Kabbalah, willingly shared secrets of this mystical compass and the ancient knowledge associated with it. The stakes were high, and the danger was real, but Alex knew he was the chosen one, destined to face the malevolent Architect and bring an end to his reign of terror. This was the first time Alex had been aware of ‗Archibald the Architect's existence or his connection to this mysterious world. Alex delved further into the profound secrets of the compass. He was introduced to a particularly scholarly elder named Havi, who generously took Alex under his wing. Eventually, Havi explained to Alex about the compass and its history. "Many years ago, thousands of years in fact, this earth was first visited by species from other solar systems. This is a well-documented fact around the world. At that time, obviously, there was no way of communicating around the planet, so whatever happened in one place would remain unknown to those only a few miles away. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 13 Initially, these intergalactic travellers posed no threat to the humans they were half human, half machine; many light-years ahead of our development. . Those on this planet at that time had no way of defending themselves from the visitors, but fortunately, they didn't need to. The aliens only required one thing: gold. They did not require it because of its intrinsic value on Earth. They needed it for far advanced technological purposes which even today are beyond human comprehension. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 14 The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 15 Ancient texts were written about these events in many places; some you will be familiar with; there are lesser known recordings around the planet which never became widely acknowledged. Some governments such as the Roman Empire made an effort to conceal these matters as it would have instantly diminished their authority. They had quite a habit of doing this sort of thing. The Romans had a practice called "damnatio memoriae". It involved erasing a person's memory from history by destroying their images and records. For instance, Roman emperors who fell out of favour could have their statues defaced and inscriptions removed. This intentional manipulation of historical records illustrates the power of governments to shape narratives; so you can imagine what they did about extraterrestrial beings? They call it ‗being cancelled‘ these days apparently. And he laughed heartily. Gold was not a mineral which had great value at that time; because there was very little trading; everyone was self-sufficient. They grew their own products, built their own homes, or they died. It was that simple. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 16 Plenty of gold was in the ground, but because you couldn't eat it; and it was too soft to make weapons or tools with, nobody was interested in it. Gold had no value whatsoever. Imagine that, if you will; and he smiled. When the visitors came and sought the gold, suddenly it had value. They rewarded those who located it, although these highly advanced beings were quite capable of finding it and extracting it themselves. When they left, a few humans wrote new manuscripts about the events, but they deliberately avoided mention of these, so-called, aliens. However, the value of gold remained in the anticipation of the visitors returning, but it never happened. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 17 Leaders around the world wrote new laws and scriptures; and they began to use gold as the first form of currency. They each knew that it had no real value, but they hoped that the aliens would return so they could exchange this useless metal for new knowledge and power; as you know, it never happened either." "While these species were here, they attempted to impart much knowledge in reward for the gold. They were not evil beings. Nevertheless, they soon realized that humans were far behind them; and attempting to educate even the wisest was a futile act. We were little more than apes; sometimes I wonder how far we have come since that time, if at all. Don't you?" Alex agreed." The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 18 Havi continued, "These beings imparted several pieces of knowledge, such as vibrational movement and time travel—the ability to manifest changes in the future but never the past. Time travel is not as simple as some imagine, nor as impossible as most believe. The concept of time is an infinite loop; it never started, and it will never end. The universe is infinite in all directions, and it's too much for our simple minds to comprehend. I have studied it all my life, and even today, I can only scratch the surface of this knowledge. The ‗compass,‘ as your target describes it, really does have the key to this power. There were many replications and attempts around the planet to make these ‗keys,‘ because that‘s what they are; keys to the doors of life itself. Its not a compass at all although it may vaguely resemble something akin to one. It is the nearest thing to a real life prehistoric computer game controller from a parallel universe. Are you aware of the ‗Simulation Hypothesis‘? The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 19 Not exactly, said Alex; is that something about us living in a computer simulation? He grinned widely, indicating that he was less than convinced. Havi looked him deep in the eyes. ―Yes it is; don‘t be so disparaging my friend it‘s not so far from the truth, as I will explain. These objects described as a compass, are a gateway to ‗the creator‘, or to our doom. Only three are ever known to have exist, but they are useless metal objects; as useless as gold itself, in the wrong hands. Only a very limited number of humans can communicate with these objects, and our agents have located one of them. The name of this individual is Maya; a Roma with exceptional ability. It is her, the driving force behind your target‘s malevolence. It is she who is placing the thoughts into his mind and using her telepathic powers to control the device, in the way one may control a television set with a remote control button. Are we living in a Computer Simulation? It is distinctly possible. This compass communicates directly with a super advanced computer that's way better than any computer we have today. This computer creates a whole world inside it, just like the worlds in video games. Now, think about how when you play a game, you feel like you're really in that world, even though it's just images and sounds on a screen. Some scientists and thinkers wonder if our world could be like that too – created by an incredibly powerful computer. They wonder if everything we see, touch, and feel might be like the graphics and sensations in a game, made by this super computer. They suspect it, but we are certain that it is true; and so are the Russians; they are also aware of and attempting to obtain this device. We need to get there before them. Artificial intelligence here is very much in its infancy, but it grows at an exponential rate. If future civilizations have the capability and desire to run detailed simulations of their ancestors, then it's statistically likely that we could be living in one of these simulations. It would be and seems as if it is possible to change time, in the future only as far as we are aware; never in the past. What is done is done. It is your task to retrieve it by any means necessary. And when I say any means that is exactly what I mean, any. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 20 Let me explain what we are up against; each of us, who believes in the concept of god, or has their own idea of what god is, or is not. It matters not who is correct; despite the stories we feed to the masses. They couldn‘t cope with this knowledge. What matters is now; we humans are not divine. We are just another animal, living a very limited time here. The Earth was fine before we arrived and it will be far better off when we have all departed. But; until that time we should do our best to be kind to each other and co-exist peacefully; we should do the same for the world which is kind enough to allow us to share its treasures too. The concept of love was created to try and pacify these creatures on Earth as was fear; money and the value of gold. 

Of all people you understand this, just look at the education system in your country. 'Education‘ he exclaimed. There‘s an oxymoron if ever there was one. It is a voluntary brainwashing processing plant for the worker ants; as you are aware. The whole thing is manipulated, invented; like characters on a computer screen. Alex agreed. 

Unfortunately, human nature being what it is makes this process more complicated. Many seek to take more than they need. This is why you are here. You have been chosen for a particular task. I will explain, so listen carefully; you need to retrieve the compass and return it here. Alex‘s mission was no longer solitary, he had become a part of a collective effort to thwart The Architect's plans and protect the world from his devious manipulations. His newfound allies needed to retrieve the compass, and he studied the information available about its power as a tool of insight and revelation. Together they planned how to retrieve the compass and take it to area 51 for further research and save the planet. 

As Alex delved deeper, he unearthed fragments of the Architect's motivations. He was informed of the impending oil crisis, and he understood the very real consequences it would bring. He wasn‘t the only one who knew about it. Obviously, The Architect‘ was well aware, but so were all major governments. Up until now, it was known that the Russians, along with a group of self-financed Roma criminals from the former Yugoslavia, and a few others were aware of the compass's abilities and its approximate location. Each group would likely attempt to obtain it. There were strong rumours that The Architect would be attending the next World Economic Forum conference in Davos, where he would address the major corporations. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 24 It was anticipated that he would have the compass in his possession. However, if he did not, then surveillance could be attempted when he returned to his lair. In either scenario, their objective was to retrieve it. Indeed, the only individuals who appeared unaware or indifferent were the global general public. They were all engrossed in the daily 'red herrings' disseminated to them by The Architect and his group of supporters. It was here, in the neutral country of Switzerland, which they would strike once the compass's location was found. 

*** 

In the heart of Tel Aviv, Alex leaned over his terminal, fingers dancing nimbly across the keys. A virtuoso of the digital domain, his hacking skills were a force to be reckoned with. In a world where ones and zeros dictated power, he was the maestro playing the symphony of data. The mission ahead was no mere escapade—it was a high-stakes gambit, a calculated risk that demanded precision. The impending storm wasn't one of thunder and lightning, but a gathering tempest of information, secrets, and strategies. As the days dwindled down, the stage was set for the world's most influential minds to converge at the World Economic Forum in Davos. Among them moved the Architect, a figure with an aura of intrigue, crafting narratives that could shape industries and governments. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 27 However, the undercurrents were deep, and the chessboard extended beyond the Architect. The CIA had placed its agents like silent pawns within the event. The Russians, known for their covert prowess, were also players in this global match. A shadowy cabal of criminals, fuelled by motivations shrouded in darkness, positioned themselves for their own clandestine endgame. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 28 Yet, for Alex, the game was no fiction—it was a Mossad-sanctioned operation. His role was as authentic as the mission itself. His steps were choreographed, every move calculated to lead him closer to the compass—a device that held the potential to alter the trajectory of power dynamics. As Davos unveiled its theatre, a battleground of intellects and agendas, the climax was inescapable. The Architect's rhetoric had the power to sway minds, but Alex perceived the strings being pulled behind the curtain. An exchange, cryptic in its content, unveiled veiled alliances and gave a fleeting glimpse into the Architect's ultimate aims. 

Influence (EDIT)

 Over the coming years the Architect proceeded to exert massive influence on economic policies through his associates in major governments. He had taken a leaf from the Chinese, as had the Chinese economy itself; albeit in the short term. Overall, the 'one child per family' policy, was effective in reducing population growth, also had the unintended consequence of significantly lowering fertility rates. As a result, China now faced challenges related to an aging population, a shrinking labour force, and demographic imbalances, prompting the government to modify its family planning policy over time. The Architect would not make that same mistake! There would be no modification this time; the fewer humans there were the better! He utilised technological distractions too; The Architect exploited the pervasive presence of technology and digital distractions in people's lives. By promoting and expanding the use of social media, online entertainment, and virtual interactions, they create a society that is more focused on virtual connections rather than forming real-life relationships. This phenomenon contributed to a decline in interpersonal connections and intimacy, which in turn impacts birth rates… 

NEW PART HERE

 As indicated in his speech he advocated and demanded a strategy of undermining traditional gender roles and family structures; advocating for gender equality to an extreme. Traditional gender roles and family responsibilities became viewed as oppressive or unnecessary. By creating confusion and disarray in family dynamics, the Architect disrupts the natural progression towards starting and raising families, contributing to the demographic downturn. Those who refused to comply were penalised heavily The Architect employed a strategy of undermining traditional gender roles and family structures. They advocate for gender equality to an extreme, where traditional gender roles and family responsibilities are viewed as oppressive or unnecessary. By creating confusion and disarray in family dynamics, he was able to disrupt the natural progression towards starting and raising families, contributing to the demographic downturn. The Architect went on to employ a strategy of undermining traditional gender roles and family structures. They advocated for gender equality to an extreme, where traditional gender roles and family responsibilities became viewed as oppressive or unnecessary. By creating this confusion and disarray in family dynamics, the Architect disrupted the natural course of events. Thereby, starting and raising families became discouraged, contributing further to the demographic downturn. It was far more effective than advocating contraception, which was shunned by many and ignored by others." 

The world, totally unaware of the Architect's intentions, was trapped in a web of manipulated events. The consequences of his actions were felt far and wide, shaping the trajectory of nations and shifting the balance of power. The puzzle pieces started to come together, and the stage was set for the next pivotal events, where the Architect's grand scheme finally intersects with the world-altering pandemic of COVID-19 and the subsequent plethora of newly created and untested vaccines. Inevitably, by then, he had moved into the pharmaceutical industry to advance our population reduction objective. The course of history had to be rewritten and once commenced there was no going back. Archibald the Architect stood at the helm the world. The Architect, through his connections in major governments and the pharmaceutical industry, could orchestrate economic sanctions. He manipulated trade agreements, restricting access to vital resources, and blocked financial aid. He created economic hardships that compelled these countries to reconsider their stance. Leveraging his influence over global diplomatic relations he isolated several countries such as Russia, Hungary, Poland and devout Islamic countries. Later, this even included the once Great Britain. Other nations severed ties leaving them often very isolated, withhold support, or with the use of diplomatic sanctions, he exerted immense pressure on them to conform. Utilizing his mastery over media and technology, the Architect launched extensive propaganda campaigns and spread disinformation to portray indecisive countries, including the once mighty United States, as obstacles to global progress and prosperity. By influencing public opinion, he could rally support from the global community against these countries, thereby increasing the pressure on their leadership. With the exception of oil rich Russia and Saudi Arabia they all complied sooner or later. The time was coming though: oil would be running out in the near future, and it was only a matter of time. In the depths of the Architect's relentless pursuit of his grand plan, clandestine operations became a powerful tool in his arsenal. One such method involved strategically funding opposition groups, trade unions, and supportive media, to incite internal conflicts and disrupt essential services within any non-compliant countries. The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 43 With financial resources at his disposal, the Architect covertly channelled support to these groups, sowing seeds of chaos and discord within the fabric of these nations. The opposition groups, motivated by an agenda and grievances: it became unwitting pawns in the Architect's game. Promoting the positions of radical and traditionally marginalized groups within these societies, the Architect orchestrated a volatile mixture of ideologies and passions. The ensuing internal strife played directly into the Architect's hands, creating fractures within the very core of these countries. As the flames of dissent raged, essential services were disrupted, weakening the stability of these nations from within. Public services, transportation networks, and vital infrastructures faced immense pressure, straining the resilience of these societies. In this orchestrated chaos, the Architect manipulated public perceptions through left-wing media channels under his influence. Distorted narratives and propaganda swirled, further heightening tensions and deepening the divisions within many countries. The internal conflicts that ensued became a relentless storm, battering against the foundations of these nations. Struggling to maintain internal cohesion and stability, these countries found themselves grappling with a potent brew of civil unrest, political upheaval, and social fractures. The pressure intensified as the Architect played on the vulnerabilities and insecurities of leaders within these nations. By skilfully using the opposition groups as leverage, he coerced influential decision-makers, giving them a simple choice: comply or face the consequences. Amidst the turmoil, the Architect's dark web extended its reach, entangling leaders and their nations in a precarious dance. He tightened his grip, ever The Architect’s web By Ella Hartman 44 mindful of the endgame he sought—a world succumbed to his desires, with controlled demographics and a fractured global landscape. As the story unfolded, a number of countries found themselves ensnared within the Architect's elaborate web of deceit and manipulation. In their struggle for survival, they confronted an adversary whose reach extended far beyond their own borders, an adversary who wielded influence like a shadowy puppeteer. The Architect's clandestine operations, combined with his other manipulative tactics, became a formidable force, a force that shaped the destiny of nations and the very course of history itself. The political world trembled; well aware of the strings being wrenched by the supreme maestro of marionettes behind it all. In the ever-expanding arsenal of the Architect's malevolence, technological expertise emerged as a potent weapon. With his mastery of cyber warfare, he orchestrated a relentless series of cyber-attacks against critical infrastructure and systems, plunging several resistant states into chaos. The cyber-attacks were surgical and devastating, targeting key sectors such as energy, transportation, communication, and financial systems. By crippling these vital lifelines, the Architect exerted immense pressure on the noncompliant nations, leaving them vulnerable and reeling under his virtual onslaught. These cyber-attacks were not merely acts of destruction; but constantly needed to be concealed from the general public in order to prevent panic. They served as strategic bargaining chips in the Architect's grand design. With the threat of further attacks ever-looming, he held these countries hostage, demanding compliance as the price for halting the digital onslaught. The price of resistance became too high to bear, and nations became cornered, facing a formidable foe that struck from the shadows. In tandem with cyber warfare, the Architect exploited global organizations to further tighten his grip.

Through his connections within the United Nations, the European Union, NATO, and international trade bodies, he manipulated decisions and actions against these rebellious nations. With his malevolent influence, he coerced these organizations to impose sanctions and penalties, isolating the resistant nations on the international stage. The world felt off-balance everywhere. Every country was under constant pressure from technological attacks and diplomatic isolation unless they obeyed. The Architect, a master manipulator, weakened opposition and made dissent quiet. In positions of power, leaders had a tough choice: give in to the Architect's demands or watch their nations' stability and prosperity crumble. The world anxiously watched as these leaders struggled, torn between resisting and giving in. As the Architect's scheming continued, the power balance shifted. All countries found themselves under the control of this sinister figure. The world turned into a battleground of power, manipulation, and deception, as the Architect's plans led nations toward an uncertain destiny. the world teetered on uncertainty, trapped in the Architect's unyielding hold.

NEW CHAPTER

The Architect addresses the WEF

 The Architect, under the guise of his role as being a major multinational corporation executive, was called upon to speak at was 'invited‘ to speak before the World Economic Forum in Davos; and made the following address; the sleight of hand he delivered was a sight to behold. The agents from the CIA, Israel, Russia and the collective Mafia representatives of the Balkan states were all in attendance; with only one aim in mind; retrieve the compass; however they must wait until the end of the Architects presentation before acting. 

Ivana and Maya had completely taken over control of the security arrangements and had placed armed alien guards all around the building and perimeter fences. Alien spacecraft were strategically positioned to prevent any smart escape plans too.

Archie The Architect rose from his chair; his gaze sweeping across the room. ―Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues, and distinguished guests… Envision a world of abundance, free from toil and fear. A realm where the arts flourish, and peace reigns supreme, where life exudes absolute beauty. Picture this utopia untainted by the presence of those, who roam our streets, polluting our world, and tarnish our dreams. The room erupted with a mixture of applause and murmurs of agreement, a chilling affirmation of the Architect's persuasive charisma. ―The power shift resulting from peak oil is a mere prelude. The world will kneel before us, oblivious to the iron clad fist inside of the invisible glove which drives its course. You see, this isn't a simple realignment of fortunes; oh no! As oil-dependent countries like Saudi Arabia, Russia, and OPEC nations squirm in desperation, dancing to the tune of orchestrated price fluctuations. Their dependence on black gold shall be their downfall, leaving them weak and ripe for the picking.

 But fear not, my dear friends, for your nations are safe providing that you follow my call. The United States, China, and India, have been gluttonous consumers. Your dependence will crumble under the weight of your own insatiable appetites. I will expose this vulnerability like a dagger to a naked throat. Ah, but amidst the chaos, a select few nations shall raise like phoenixes – China and Germany are the masters of renewable energy. How delightful it shall be to watch them bask in their fleeting glory, foolishly believing they're shaping international policies. Their newfound dominance merely serves as a smokescreen for survival! Norway, Norway, with its hydropower riches shall become the jewel in my crown. They shall shine as a beam of light to the world, unsuspecting pawns in my grand symphony of destruction, exporting their false sense of security to the masses! 

―What about the rest of the world? One questioned. ―Ah, yes, the unsuspecting masses shall kneel before the altar of sustainability, chanting our praises as they march obliviously towards their own subjugation. A collective global shift towards the vision of "sustainable" practices, a mere illusion designed to blind them from the real purpose of our goals! Oh, the irony! As they believe they're saving the world, they unknowingly lay the foundation for my reign of supremacy! They shall be so consumed by their futile efforts that they won't notice us orchestrating their downfall! ―Embrace your fate and, prepare to play your roles. The stage is set, the players in position, and the world shall soon bow before its true master – me, the one, the only, and the formidable architect of chaos. Archibald the Architect! ― Again those gathered spontaneously rose up to their feet and chanted;

 "Hail the Architect, hail sustainability!" 

―The revelation I bring before you is a dire one – the power shift resulting from peak oil shall plunge poor countries into an abyss of turmoil and despair! Let us take a moment to rejoice with that knowledge. Brace yourselves, for the consequences of this impending cataclysm will be nothing short of glorious! As the world hurtles towards the precipice of peak oil, vulnerable developing nations stand at the edge of an apocalypse! The timing of this crisis remains obscured, veiled by uncertainties and shadowy forces beyond our control. But one thing is certain - the fallout will be swift and ruthless. But that's not all! The domino effect shall sweep across the globe, leaving developing countries gasping for survival in its wake! Stripped of their lifeline, the soaring prices of essentials like fuel and energy shall strangle their already fragile economies, and the consequences will be nothing short of catastrophic! These nations, lacking the resources and infrastructure to swiftly adapt, will become the pawns in this devious game of energy geopolitics. They shall grapple with energy shortages, widespread unemployment, and social unrest - a ticking time bomb that threatens to detonate at any moment! The world will bear witness as these vulnerable nations, ill-equipped to cope with the impending upheaval, fall into the clutches of despair. Economic disparities will widen, and the chasm between the haves and the have-nots will deepen to an alarming extent. Prepare yourselves, because the implications of this power shift are farreaching! International collaboration may seem like an elusive dream; it always was. Developed nations were only interested maintaining their own supremacy. Their focus on self-preservation rendered them deaf to the pleas of the sinking nations, thereby intensifying the situation! This is a moment of truth. 

"Sustainability" was never a buzzword. This is a matter of life or death, and the latter will befall those nations selecting mass suicide. Our duty lies in acting swiftly and decisively to see them out of their misery. This is a clarion call to act. The world's eyes are upon us, and history shall remember those who rise to the occasion. You will witness the weak nations collapse into oblivion; it is the biggest and the final and ultimate Darwinian event, in action. Onward, my fellow leaders, to script a future of resilience in the wake of peak oil! He took a short break but did not leave the sage; the agents waited patiently, they were also listening with great interest. Eventually he recommenced.

 What I am about to present before you is fortunately not as complicated as rocket science. The example I give you is simple. Imagine 100 people on a small Island. 50 are female, 50 are male. Each one is heterosexual. None are impotent, sick or in another way incapable of reproduction. How many children must each couple produce in order that their number remained static in the following generation, and the one after that, in order neither to increase nor diminish? The room went silent. ―You should not need a calculator to answer this ―He smiled. Or more accurately, he smirked. The room pondered the seemingly simple yet intriguing puzzle presented by the Architect. After a brief moment of contemplation, a few hesitant murmurs rose from the audience, attempting to calculate the answer. It was indeed an elementary question, but one that seemed to carry a deeper significance, a hidden meaning that escaped his grasp. Suddenly, a voice from the back of the room spoke up, breaking the silence. "Each couple would need to produce two children," a confident young woman asserted, "One to replace the mother and one to replace the father, ensuring that the population remains stable in each generation." The Architect's smirk widened as he nodded approvingly. "Exactly," he replied, "Two children per couple, a simple and elegant solution to maintain a static population on the small Island. But, as you may have guessed, there's more to this than meets the eye. We need to reduce the global number in the most humane ways possible. Therefore we need to adjust a few figures.‘ As the audience leaned in, captivated by the Architect's presence, he continued, "You see, the concept of population control is not just about simple arithmetic. It delves into the realms of power, influence, and the manipulation of human behaviour.

 The puzzle serves as a metaphor for a grander design—a design that extends far beyond this small Island." "The dynamics of population control are not just about the number of children each couple produces," he emphasized, "It's about the choices people make, the influences that shape all decisions, and the complex interplay of societal factors that steer the course of human demographics." "In the world outside this Island, factors such as economic pressures, cultural norms, access to education and healthcare, and even government policies can influence people's reproductive choices.

 The consequences of these choices ripple across generations, shaping the trajectory of nations and societies," he added. The Architect's words resonated with the audience, and they began to see the bigger picture. It was not just a matter of numbers, but of the intricacy of human existence, where decisions and actions reverberate far beyond the individual. As the discussion deepened, the room filled with a sense of enlightenment and curiosity, each person realizing that the Architect's puzzle was merely a glimpse into a complex web of power and influence—a web that held the fate of nations and the very course of history in its grasp. Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, today I present to you a simple yet meaningful depiction of population dynamics. Imagine a small island with about 100 people, each capable of having children. However, it's important to acknowledge the diverse paths of human life. Not everyone can or wants to be a part of the journey of reproduction. On this island, we have individuals facing various challenges—some due to health, others due to infertility or other reasons. There are those whose sexual orientation doesn't lead to heterosexual couples for reproduction, and others who have chosen not to have children. Let's also honour those who courageously embrace life despite disabilities or health issues that might affect their ability to have children. Let's explore the outcomes of these situations. Among 100 people, 80 are willing and able to have children. Out of these, 40 couples hold the potential to bring the next generation into existence, which is crucial for our island's population continuity. Population control is more than numbers; it involves making thoughtful choices while respecting individual decisions. To ensure stability, these 40 couples must embrace their role as future caretakers. They should approach parenting with wisdom, empathy, and an appreciation for diversity. As shapers of society, we have a responsibility to create an environment where people can thrive, regardless of their reproductive choices. It's important to note that global population is rising, yet resources are limited. For instance, in Europe, the average number of children per woman is currently lower, leading to a decline in numbers. 

This situation has been referred to as "race suicide," where a group doesn't have enough children to maintain its population compared to the death rate. Despite these trends, our pursuit remains impartial, focusing solely on numbers. There's no preference for gender, race, or ability. The chosen individuals will be those who are healthy, productive, intelligent, and cooperative. Though we do not necessarily need them to be compliant; we need them to be only loyal, with a shared vision and a valuable contribution to make. We do not want a herd of unthinking sheep! We require them to be the best of all human beings and to become part of the future. Their race is not relevant; their gender is not either, but their ability and willingness to reproduce, in moderation, is vital. We neither want academics, nor loafers. No thieves or those who believe that the world owes them a living. It does not! Immigration is only a critical factor in population dynamics. It significantly influences the population of counties and regions. Immigrants often come from places with different fertility rates than the native population therefor this may affect the overall outcome. Not necessarily positively or negatively. We all have our roles to play. Including immigration in the discussion is essential because immigrants may have higher TFRs, and their presence can offset declining native-born fertility rates. "On a global scale, the Total Fertility Rate rises, leads to a growing population. However, we must exercise caution, for available resources—food, water, space—have struggled, no they have failed, to keep pace with this ascending trend. At the heart of this intricate puzzle lies the delicate balance of human choices and natural limits. Policies shaping family planning, socioeconomic frameworks, and cultural norms converge in shaping the TFR and its natural effects. A vital consideration emerges—the interplay of immigration. In contexts where native-born populations exhibit lower TFRs, immigration assumes a crucial role. Migrants, often arriving from regions with higher fertility rates, influence the overall TFR, imparting a demographic dynamism that warrants careful analysis. 

Our quest extends beyond mere enumeration of statistics; Challenges of an aging population, labour force shortages, social welfare, and economic sustainability beckon our collective wisdom. As visionaries, it is our responsibility to explore immigration's impact. The small island before us becomes a mirror to our own world. Today, I have the privilege of presenting to you a grand vision, a masterful plan to shape the destiny of our societies., I envisage a future where reducing reproduction is harmoniously intertwined with promoting LGBTQ+ rights, an alliance that shall redefine our concept of family. Our journey towards controlled demographics begins with the recognition of the immense value of embracing diversity, including the LGBTQ+ community. By promoting inclusivity and acceptance, we empower individuals to embrace their true selves, unburdened by the constraints of societal norms. As a consequence, the traditional gender roles that once dictated the structure of families will dissolve, opening the doors to new possibilities. Furthermore, drawing inspiration from the Chinese 'one child per family' program, we shall learn from Chinas experience, avoiding the pitfalls while preserving its essence. By making it increasingly challenging for individuals and families to bear the burden of raising children, we shall manipulate taxation systems, restrict social benefits, and champion policies that prioritize individual consumption over family support. The economic pressures that ensue will naturally discourage couples from expanding families, leading to a gradual decline in birth rates, precisely as intended. Yet, our design goes beyond mere numbers and statistics. Our commitment to LGBTQ+ rights is a commitment to freedom and equality. As we break the shackles of conventional expectations, we liberate the human spirit to make choices unencumbered by societal norms The foundation of our plan remains technology, our most powerful tool. Leveraging the presence of social media, online platforms, and virtual interactions, we shall cultivate a world where relationships are not confined by gender or sexual orientation. It is a world where interpersonal bonds and the desire for parenthood take on new dimensions. Individuals, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity, will have the freedom to explore life's myriad possibilities.

 The decline in birth rates shall naturally occur as people find fulfilment in diverse facets of life, unbound by the traditional expectations of procreation. Furthermore, the transformation we seek shall find synergy in the subtle cultivation of societal anxieties. By crafting narratives of vulnerability and uncertainty, we sow the seeds of change that contribute to controlled demographics. Concurrently, our influence over economic policies will make the prospect of raising children increasingly challenging, driving the reduction in reproduction. In closing, I implore you to envision the profound impact of this grand design. It is a symphony of diversity and inclusivity, where each note echoes with purpose, guiding us towards a world that transcends preconceived notions. Together, we shall witness the emergence of a society that embraces individual freedom, controlled demographics, and unparalleled progress. Thank you, esteemed audience, let us build a future that knows no bounds, for we are the architects of change and progress. Oh how they applauded him. 

Heil the Architect, Heil Sustainability, Heil Inclusivity!

 They chanted in unison. At the end of the speech an order was received by the agents command to abort the operation, for this moment anyway. 

 and so he continued In a room where power was the only currency, the compass took centre stage; well guarded by one of the largest alien visitors. It was historically a nondescript artefact but had now the capacity to redefine the game of life. 

Amidst the tumult, Alex seized the fleeting opportunity, executing his moves with the skill of a grandmaster. Single handed he walked up to the Architect, and reached out to the compass and smiled as he whispered. It‘s over‘. As he did so, the lights all stopped; Archie began a metamorphosis to a simple snowboarding teenager, there was outrage in the room, and the compass simply vanished. 

And when the dust settled, the compass remained a tantalizing mystery. The Architect's grand design was disrupted, but the resonance of his intent lingered, echoing like a half-forgotten melody. The actors dispersed, their stratagems shattered, and the world was left to unravel the consequences. Yet, as the layers of this intricate narrative peeled away, a revelation emerged— an unexpected twist. Archie, a boy whose imagination flowed like a river, regarded the compass with a knowing smile. His alter ego—a persona nurtured through psychedelic visions, must have crafted this tale of suspense. Mustn‘t it? 

Next stop Iraq. 

Heil the Architect, Heil sustainability, Heil inclusivity!