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Author
Biography
George Robert
Black was born 26th February 1942 in George has
travelled extensively in He has pursued the intricacies of perpetual motion and free energy devices from a very early age and, despite the obvious official suppression of such technological enlightenment, is continually supportive of its ongoing (albeit necessarily clandestine) pro-development.
PROLOGUE - THE
MAID OF SKER Most people are unaware of
the free-energy alternatives to high-cost, atmosphere-polluting fossil-based
fuels – but don’t count on your government authorities handing them to you
on a platter! Even in our modern world
of higher education, open-mindedness and human emancipation, we are still being
outrageously conned by the most selfish and sinister scam the world has ever
known, for the sole purpose of profit and prestige by a handful of perpetually
greedy control freaks? Life truly is all about
our individual journeys towards global enlightenment and empowerment. History is
filled with pages of downtrodden masses being relentlessly abused by their
masters. Every day millions of
motorists fill their cars with petroleum products which they know damn well are
endangering the planet and driving us all towards extinction. It happens because
we are advised by our overlords (with typical, covert, vested interests) that
there are no convenient alternatives. Amazingly, we surrender to this abject
deception with almost total compliance. Governments imply they want to clean up
our environment, but they do nothing to reinforce their announcements. The
reason for this attitude is not at all mysterious – governments exist on
revenue obtained from taxes on fossil-based fuels. They have no intention of
stopping anybody from using these increasingly expensive pollutants because
there is much financial gain to be obtained by continuing the process. That is
clearly why self-serving governments refuse to ratify the United Nations Kyoto
Protocol, why our ‘western coalition forces’ have invaded In 1799, the English
chemist William Nicholson decomposed ordinary water into its basic constituents
of hydrogen and oxygen using (by today’s standards) what must have been an
archaic technique. Without any commercial electricity supply available, he
nevertheless separated the combined elements using an extraordinarily simple
method of electrolysis. Surely, it is impossible to believe that after more than
two hundred years of further experimentation, we have not been able to improve
on his methods. Hydrogen is the simplest and most abundant
element in the universe (70% by weight and 90% by volume of everything that
exists). Hydrogen is at the forefront of quality fuels and it has been powering
our universe for millenniums. Everything in our solar system is powered by a
giant furnace which is composed of 96% hydrogen. It burns cleanly and is
environmentally non-polluting. Most of the hydrogen on earth is contained in
water in our oceans, lakes and rivers, so there is a lot of it around. However,
the people in control will tell you that it is uneconomical to extract hydrogen
from water since it will require more energy to achieve this goal than what you
will end up with afterwards at your disposal. Now this will have to go down as
the world’s most outlandish intentional lie. We must surely wonder how
Nicholson managed to decompose water more than two hundred years ago without any
sophisticated energy system at all. It is interesting to note
that the very first internal combustion engines ran on hydrogen extracted from
water, from the beginning of the nineteenth century right up until the
introduction of petroleum around 1870. Petroleum soon proved to be more popular
than hydrogen because it could be handled and transported more conveniently.
However, during the 20th century many erstwhile inventors began devising ways
where hydrogen could be produced expediently from water, as required ‘in
situ’ on board their motor vehicles. Naturally, the oil companies were not
going to accept this innovation lying down and subsequently set about buying up
the multitudes of patent rights as soon as they were publicised, or else they
simply physically intimidated the inventors into maintaining their silence.
These confronting practices are not a well-kept secret and have been widely
acknowledged for years. Governments became complicit because by this time they
were making ends meet very handsomely on ever-increasing fuel taxes. Against all sensible
reasoning, it is amazing that this blatant conspiracy has survived unchallenged
for so long. The true facts are that you can easily run your car economically on
hydrogen extracted from water and also that our governments and the
power-mongers controlling the world’s fossil-fuel industries are hiding this
knowledge from the public. The world certainly needs
an affordable and never-ending supply of energy for survival but the methods
being applied by our fuel monopolies (as they stand) are unfair and untenable
and are leading us all very quickly down the pathway to disaster. The Maid of Sker
is a daring, light-hearted, fictional romantic thriller set in It would benefit us well
to remember that sometimes we need to stand up and be counted; and that the
surest way for evil to prevail is for good men and women to do nothing. In the words of Dr Nikola
Tesla, there is no doubt that, “The future will tell the truth.” George R Black Chapter
One
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I |
t was
9 am Saturday, the first day of the Labour Day long weekend, and light rain had
been falling on Gold Coast City and its hinterland areas all morning.
Robert
McDougall was generally happy with his lot in the world. His small business
enterprise was relatively prosperous and financially unencumbered. At thirty
years of age, he was healthy, independent, ambitious and single. He resided in a
comfortable abode at the dress circle end of
Robert had
also recently acquired a modest country residence and acreage which he intended
to use as an investment weekender, situated on the tableland behind Beechmont
about thirty kilometres west of Nerang.
He had set
off from home in his new Subaru Forester AWD en route to the weekender by way of
the relatively straight Canungra road thus avoiding the more direct but winding
mountain road through Beechmont. With three days free of other commitments, his
intentions were to carry out light renovations at the property, with some
carefree, country-style relaxation in between. He was already anticipating lunch
and a beer at the Canungra Hotel.
As he
approached a bridge which spanned the
Fearing that
the other car may have ended up in the water, he slowed and executed a swift
U-turn, then pulled up at the spot where the Ford had left the roadway. He had
opened his door to alight when a late model Commodore sedan with two men on
board sped past in the same direction, possibly in pursuit of the other vehicle.
If so, they seemed unaware that the Ford had already left the road since the
Forester was now covering its tracks in the gravel.
Robert ran
over to the side of the road and peered down where he presumed the car had
vanished. It was stationary 100 metres away pushed sideways into a tree which
had saved it from the river. White smoke was pouring forth from the front
section of the wreck.
He raced
quickly back to his own vehicle and removed a fire extinguisher, work gloves and
a jemmy from the boot, then returned to the scene of the crash dialling the
emergency number 000 on his mobile phone as he went. As he clambered down the
track of flattened shrubbery, he spoke to a telephone operator describing the
scene before him and its geographical location.
“You’d
better hurry,” he urged. “The driver is either unconscious or trapped inside
his car. Send the police as well. It’s possible he’s been chased by two
blokes in a white sedan. If these guys are into something illegal, I don’t
want to be caught out here in the middle of it on my own.”
By this time
he had reached the wreck. The car had slewed sideways on its descent from the
road and had collided with a large tree on its right hand side front door and
mudguard. The impact had released the bonnet catch and white fumes were oozing
out from underneath. He banged on the driver’s door window and a grey-haired,
lightly bearded man grimaced and stared in his direction.
“Are you
okay in there?” he yelled.
The man
appeared dazed but nonetheless began winding down his window. “My right foot
is stuck under the brake pedal,” he complained. He was struggling awkwardly to
get it free.
“I’ve
called the police and ambulance, they’re on their way,” Robert advised.
“Are you in pain?”
“My
leg’s numb, I can’t move it,” was the reply.
“I have a
fire extinguisher. There’s smoke coming from under your bonnet. I’ll lift it
up and have a look.”
The driver
was shaking his head. “That’s not smoke, it’s steam. There’s nothing
there that will burn.”
Robert
thought the other man must have bumped his head. Surely he could see the danger
he was in? “If a fuel line is busted, your car may catch on fire.”
“Trust me,
nothing will burn,” the man reiterated.
Considering
that the driver was trapped inside his car, it was amazing he was behaving so
incautiously. “How can you be so sure?” Robert appealed.
“My
name’s Alec Robinson, I’m an engineer. I know about these things.”
Robert
re-estimated his overzealous perception of the circumstances. “I’m Robert
McDougall. Obviously, I don’t.”
Alec
Robinson seemed outwardly perplexed. “Is anybody else up there?” he quizzed
despairingly.
“No, just
me here so far. Two blokes in a white car went past as I pulled up. I thought
they may have been chasing you.”
The bearded
man promptly regathered his composure. “Thanks for stopping, anyway.”
Hastily, he then considered his options. “Listen carefully, Robert, I know
we’ve never met before but I have to ask you for a favour because the matter
is extremely imperative. This car doesn’t use petrol for a fuel, it uses
hydrogen extracted from water. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Robert
nodded his understanding.
Alec quickly
elaborated, “Those guys in the white car are trying to steal a device on my
carburettor which extracts hydrogen gas out of water.”
Robert was
immediately alarmed. What on earth was going on here? Who were the guys who were
after him? If they were dangerous thugs, the only protection he had was a jemmy
and a fire extinguisher. His natural instinct, of course, was self preservation,
but realistically there was no way he would be able to retreat from any external
threat now that he was actively involved.
It appeared
the driver was feeling menaced from more than one source and so voiced his need
for urgent cooperation. “The ambulance and police will come from Canungra
soon, so there’s not much time to spare.”
Robert
basically understood the implications of using hydrogen as a fuel. The general
consensus was that the prohibitive cost of energy required for producing it
outweighed any benefits obtained. Safe storage during transportation was also an
enormous consideration. Hydrogen is very explosive stuff. However, this man was
inferring that he could actually extract hydrogen from the water in his tank
economically and on demand, and somehow utilise it in a way similar to normal
petroleum. With the current exorbitant prices of fuel, this sounded too good to
be true.
Robert
suspected that Alec wished to shield his carburettor device from the rescue team
as well. Circumstantially, he decided that further clarification of the
situation would be prudent. “Who are these people chasing you?” he
questioned with concern.
“I’m
sorry,” the other answered impatiently, “there’s no time for me to
explain, except to say that they want to stop all of us from using it. Look,
just think how important and desirable it would be to have cars that run on
water – free fuel, no oil, no pollution?”
That sounded
logical and convincing enough. “What would you like me do?” Robert
encouraged supportively.
Alec handed
him a small spanner and a screwdriver which he took from the centre console.
“On the left hand side of the engine you will see a silver metallic box.
Disconnect the water fuel line with the screwdriver. Unplug the electrical cable
connector and tuck the long end out of sight. Take out the four bolts on the
silver box and remove it from on top of the carburettor. Throw everything in the
river, including the spanner and screwdriver. It’s a very simple process, but
watch out you don’t burn yourself on the engine block.”
Robert put
on the work gloves, unfastened the silver box as instructed and rested it beside
the mudguard closest to the river. He was surprised how easy it was to
dismantle. It wasn’t all that heavy though and flotation could be a problem.
Then he heard sounds of voices and vehicles from the roadway and guessed it must
be the rescue squad arriving. Moving quickly, he half-crawled the short distance
to the river bank, keeping low to avoid being observed from above. Luckily, the
river looked deep. Using a sapling for support, he leant over and filled the box
with water helping to add to its weight. Then he tossed everything far enough
into the river hopefully for it to remain undetected.
The box
floated precariously then thankfully disappeared from sight. He gathered that
Alec was not so much interested in preserving the device as making sure it
didn’t fall into alien hands. Robert then returned to the front of the vehicle
and sprayed the engine with his fire extinguisher, covering it with white powder
which he hoped would make it appear like nothing had been disturbed. Suddenly,
there were police and rescuers everywhere.
Alec called
his attention from the driver’s seat again, speaking fervently. “Can you
take my mobile phone and keep it out of sight? If the bastards get hold of it,
they’ll know everybody I’ve been talking to. Ring my daughter Katrina,
she’s in the addresses file under ‘K’, and tell her what has happened. I
don’t know where they’ll take me but it’s absolutely vital that she
doesn’t get involved. Tell her not to do anything until she’s heard from me
directly. Can you do that for me, please?”
Shielded
from view by the car, he handed Robert his phone, and then included his house
keys and a remote control as well. Robert took his own phone from a pocket and
offered it in return. “Hang onto this so you’ll be able to stay in touch. It
should be good for a couple of days without a battery recharge.”
Firemen and
police were the first ones on the spot. Robert acknowledged them and stood back
to let them do their work. Soon the driver’s door was opened and Alec
protested loudly that his leg was hurting. Ambulance officers took over and
began carefully extracting him from the car.
The police
began to question Robert, since he was the first person on the scene and might
have been an actual witness. He excluded the part about the car chase although
he realised he’d already given that information to the 000 operator. If they
reminded him about it, he would simply recant his earlier supposition.
Next they
attempted to question Alec but an ambulance officer intervened. “He’s a
patient and our responsibility. His leg may be fractured, and we insist that
medical treatment be the first consideration. If you want to interview him, you
can do it afterwards at the Gold Coast hospital.”
The police
were noticeably annoyed, but they also knew the protocol, and reluctantly
cooperated. Robert next became aware of a tall, officious-looking man making his
way down to the crash site from the roadway. He went straight to the police
officer who seemed to be in charge and conversed with him at length. The officer
pointed in Robert’s direction, and the officious one approached him.
“Good
morning, Sir,” he introduced himself showing Robert his identification badge
and credentials. “John Williamson, Australian Federal Police, Robina. How are
you today?”
“I was
fine, thank you, until all of this happened. I’m Robert McDougall.”
“I believe
you were the first person here after the crash. Is that correct?”
“Yes it
is,” Robert agreed.
“Do you
own the white Forester parked up on the road?”
“Yes I
do.”
“Were you
the one who called “000?”
“Yes, I
was.”
“Did you
witness the accident itself?”
“I saw the
vehicle leave the road. It was travelling very fast, so I turned around to see
if I could help. When I confirmed that it had crashed, I called 000.”
“Was the
driver conscious when you arrived? Did you talk to him at all?”
“He was
conscious but seemed dazed. I asked him if he was all right. I brought my
extinguisher down in case there was a fire. I gave the engine a bit of a spray.
There was a lot of steam, the radiator or its hoses must be damaged.”
“Do you
have any identification, Sir?”
Robert
handed him a company business card from his wallet.
Williamson
scrutinised the card. “You sell water purifiers? Is that what is in the back
of your car?”
“No,”
replied Robert. “That’s building supplies for my property near Canungra.
I’m doing some renovations there over the long weekend.”
“A
gentleman farmer then?” Williamson insinuated. “Look, it was good of you to
stop and help this bloke, and we appreciate it very much. I’ll keep your card,
if I may. We might need to contact you later to help in our investigation.”
“Investigation?”
Robert queried. “May I ask why federal police would be interested in a motor
vehicle accident? Surely that’s a job for the local guys.”
Williamson
abruptly silenced him. “I’m not at liberty to divulge classified information
unnecessarily, Sir. Thank you for your assistance.”
Robert was
becoming concerned. He realised now that Williamson was one of the pursuers.
What had he gotten himself into? Alec hadn’t mentioned who he was running away
from, but he had imagined it was a competitor of some kind, or enforcers
employed by a rogue oil company. Why on earth would the Australian Federal
Police be so actively involved? Perhaps Alec was a felon after all. In order to
secure the necessary assistance, he wouldn’t have admitted to anything
subversive intentionally. Still, the man came across as a genuine bloke, and
Robert was convinced of his legitimacy.
Alec was
eventually freed from the driver’s seat and they placed him on a waiting
stretcher. Williamson went to the now unobstructed front door and peered inside.
He knelt on the driver’s seat and scanned the interior, then avidly searched
the glove box and the centre console.
Robert paid
his attention to Alec now, but still observed the AFP man from the corner of his
eye. He became nervous when Williamson went to the front of the car and looked
at the engine compartment. If the officer had any inkling what he was after, he
might notice that something was missing from the carburettor. If there were any
suspicions Robert would be the main suspect, and in that respect he would rather
avoid any further official interrogation for the moment.
Williamson
then took a mobile phone from his belt and placed a call but Robert couldn’t
hear the discussion that ensued. He felt extremely insecure and considered it
might be tactical to vacate the scene as quickly as possible.
“I’ll
get out of here and notify your family,” he informed Alec confidentially.
“See you later at the Gold Coast Hospital.”
“Thanks
for helping me out, mate. Take care.”
Robert made
his way back to the road carrying the equipment he had brought with him just as
more rain began falling gently from a still-clouded sky. He had forgotten about
Williamson’s offsider who until now had remained incognito. The man was
standing beside the Forester with an umbrella, talking on his phone. Robert
feared imminent exposure. Was he talking to Williamson? Did they suspect what he
had done and if so, how could he explain his unusual behaviour? Hiding evidence
from the federal police wouldn’t go down too well. As he sauntered towards his
vehicle the officer concluded his call and glanced inquisitively in his
direction.
Hoping to
avoid continuing suspicion, he opened his tailgate so the policeman could
plainly see the building materials inside, replacing his emergency equipment at
the same time. “Nasty piece of work down there,” he remarked
conversationally.
“Precarious
situation, but no fatalities at least,” the officer maintained. “This rain
is not going to help. If it gets any worse, they’ll have a lot of trouble
removing the wreck.”
Robert was
feeling more relaxed. “I suppose so,” he said laconically, sliding in behind
his steering wheel. “Well, that’s enough excitement for one day.”
The rain
began falling even heavier as a tow truck pulled in to the side of the road in
front of the Forester. He was unsure where they would take Alec’s car, but
probably to the Canungra Police Station, where it would most likely be secured
pending examination. It was a good thing he had managed to extricate the silver
box before the instant crowd arrived.
Leisurely,
he started the engine and set off towards the Gold Coast, a perceptibly
impulsive decision not lost on the AFP man still observing him. Robert had
expressly declared that he was travelling towards Canungra, so why then was he
now going in exactly the opposite direction? Shortly the officer was on the
phone again reporting back to Williamson.
Robert drove
towards Nerang with myriads of thoughts on his mind. What had begun as a simple
trip to the country was becoming a complicit intrigue. Why would the AFP try to
prevent someone from developing an innovation that would prospectively be an
enormous benefit to society and to all mankind? What could they do legally to
stop him from doing it anyway since the entire political establishment
purportedly championed free enterprise? Surely, whatever a man did in his
private backyard was nobody’s business but his own.
Naturally he
was confused, but somehow it seemed decidedly possible that somebody important
associated with the privileged higher echelons might be consciously resisting
the introduction of free-energy machines. Maybe it was an economics issue or a
conspiracy involving the oil companies or the New World Order, or maybe the
power-mongers behind governments just didn’t like the idea of their
sacrificial pawns being too independent and self-reliant?
Thoughtfully,
he elected to go directly to his shop in Nerang. Nobody else would be there
today since everything was closed for the long weekend. Subsequently he would be
able to extricate Katrina’s number from Alec’s phone and call her from his
landline which would be more private and convenient.
By the time
he arrived in Nerang the rain had decreased to occasional showers. He made
himself a coffee to settle his nerves then called Katrina on his office phone.
The number was a mobile phone so he presumed she would be readily available to
answer it. After a short while the line engaged and an educated, female voice
announced, “Hello, Katrina speaking.”
“Hello,
Katrina,” Robert replied. “Look, you don’t know me, my name is Robert
McDougall. I’m calling from Nerang. I spoke to your father about half an hour
ago and he asked me to give you a message.”
“Yes,”
Katrina responded, a note of concern in her voice. “Is he all right?”
Robert tried
not to alarm her too much at the start. “He’s been involved in a single car
accident out on the Canungra Gorge road. I was the first one on the scene and he
suggested that I contact you personally to let you know he’s okay.”
“If he’s
okay, why couldn’t he tell me himself?”
“Under the
circumstances, that would not have been expedient. In fact, I have his mobile
phone with me right now. He gave it to me so I could contact you, and also for
safekeeping.”
“I don’t
understand. What do you mean by ‘safekeeping’? You are hiding something from
me!”
Robert
realised that this confabulation wasn’t working out anything like the way he
had expected. “No, please believe what I am saying. Your father probably has a
fractured leg, but nothing that is life-threatening. An ambulance is taking him
to the Gold Coast Hospital. He specified that I tell you not to go there or
become involved in any way until he has spoken to you himself. I presume he will
do that after he has been treated. I left my own mobile phone with him for that
reason.”
“I don’t
believe you. Why would he need to swap phones with you to do that? Why
couldn’t he call me from his own phone?”
Robert was
now becoming flustered. If he was going to gain her confidence he would have to
go about it more calmly and logically. “Listen, Katrina, I know how you must
be feeling. Your father required me to help him protect a carburettor device on
his car, since he was incapacitated because of the accident. He is having some
trouble with the Australian Federal Police who intend to interview him as soon
as he is treated. That’s why you are not to go to the hospital under any
circumstances. Please try to understand!”
“What am I
supposed to do then?”
“Would you
be prepared to meet me here in Nerang and I will explain everything to you in
detail? I’ll also be able to return your father’s phone.”
“No, I
don’t know who you are. You could be one of those morons who are trying to
intimidate my father.”
Robert was
completely exasperated. “How can I help you or your father if you won’t
trust me or believe me?”
Katrina
paused for awhile then opted to take control of the situation herself. “Have
you heard of the Maid of Sker?” she proposed.
“Sure,
it’s an old paddle wheel steamer on the riverbank near the traffic bridge at
Nerang.”
“That’s
right,” Katrina confirmed. “Okay then, I’ll see you there in exactly one
hour. I’ll know who you are, but you won’t know me. I’ll decide then if I
will meet you or not. Take my dad’s phone with you or the deal is off.” Then
she hung up.
Jesus, how
frustrating this was. Katrina was so suspicious she refused to take him at his
word. He had never anticipated that anything like this would happen. So far he
hadn’t taken a trick all day. Here it was almost 11 o’clock and he was still
stuck in town at the office in Nerang. His carefully laid work plans for the
weekend had gone right out the door. And now he had this bloody unbelieving,
overcautious woman who was not convinced of his good intentions and was giving
him the run around.
If it
wasn’t for the fact that he needed to get his phone back, he would give the
whole damn idea away right now.
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