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1

Everything starts somewhere, but this is a particularly strange tale that ends in the far future but begins in the past. Our story begins on July 16, 1932, eight days after the great stock market crash. Why start here? Because 86% of the stock market’s value was lost. But money doesn’t change; it stays money. What changes is who owns it. After July 8, 1932, someone owned 86% of the stock market’s total value. So, where did the money go?

The simple answer: some bankers and influential individuals decided to use their wealth and influence to manipulate the stock market for their benefit and then cover their tracks. For the past 15 years, these bankers had employed a small group of butlers to clean up after them. To pull off this crime, they needed more help. The butlers recruited a small group of people to assist in covering the bankers’ and others’ tracks. Over time, this group formed a secret society, initially known as The Cerberus Group and later as the Cerberus Foundation. Little did they know, this name would live in infamy for all time!

Shortly after that fateful day, the gentlemen met in New York City on a Sunday afternoon, in secret. Each member without a butler was assigned one, allowing them to avoid direct contact with the group's activities. By 1958, this small group with butlers had evolved into a larger organization with many members to address various problems. The original bankers and investors had gotten into enough trouble that they needed to expand The Cerberus Group.

Due to the group’s expansion, the original members issued dispersal orders for all members. The orders stated: Travel around the world and establish connections for the next two years—essentially, make friends. Members were paid for this task. Over the next two years, The Cerberus Group grew. The new members were part of the Cerberus Foundation and reported back to The Cerberus Group.

On July 16, 1960, The Cerberus Group was informed that all members should return to their masters' homes. Some of the main bankers had moved to Europe, but one had relocated to Canada. This banker’s legacy and story are pivotal because what happened next led to significant global changes.

The year is 1965. The code name “The Black Banker” had moved to the provinces of Manitoba and Alberta. The banker resided in Alberta, but the main operations of his people were based in Winnipeg, Manitoba. The banker had a passion for the sciences and invested heavily in them, privately. One of his assets was a communications network. He hired people to monitor calls and redirect important ones to a contact in the Cerberus Foundation so his people would have the first opportunity at any developments.

3.1 Late December, Winnipeg, Manitoba

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Late December in Winnipeg, Manitoba, a general recently promoted and a member of the Cerberus Group was about to receive a phone call that would change his life forever. On June 28, 1965, if you don’t know what a ranger is, they are government employees—military or not—who check on forests and anomalies within them. They are trained to travel, survive, and return from the bush unharmed.

Max Angling, whose name his parents thought was cute, always had a fondness for fishing. This love for the Canadian outback stemmed from his passion for the beauty of nature. The sun had already set, and the sky was dark. Max knew the drive to the compound would take about 20 more minutes. He planned to have a quick conversation and go to sleep, or so he thought.

Upon arriving at the compound, the guard at the gate directed him to the officer's mess to pick up and deliver a message to his commanding officer. As Max walked into the mess, he was asked to wait since he was not an officer. The officer eventually came out, and Max, showing respect despite not being military, handed him the letter.

The officer, irritated by the interruption, read the letter and, without explanation, told Max that he needed to find someone named Murphy, a friend of Max’s, who had gone missing. Max’s heart sank. He had been up for almost 24 hours. The officer handed Max a piece of paper containing Murphy’s last orders.

Max read the orders, which indicated that Murphy had been sent to examine a river that had changed from a broken stream to a major waterway with no intermediary stages. The officer, shrugging and smiling, said, “Please find your friend and bring him back to life so I can give him a hard time for not checking in. If he’s drunk in the woods, still bring him back.”

Max smiled, laughed, and agreed. He then headed back to his vehicle to get resupplied. After securing his lodgings for the night and waiting for some specialized equipment to be made safe, he headed out. The security personnel knocked on his door, and Max got up, cleaned himself, and went to the mess hall for food.

Resupplied and equipped, Max began his 3 to 5-hour drive. He stopped frequently to ensure he was on the right logging trails, as he needed to track several miles to reach Murphy’s location. He might even need to use the canoe he brought.

As he drove down the last logging trail, he found a spot off to the side and parked, hoping it wouldn’t be disturbed. He then removed his gear and started trekking into the bush. One of the tricks he had learned from Murphy was to mark trees to create a path to follow.

Eventually, he reached the river, which had widened significantly compared to reports from two years ago. Max found more of Murphy’s markers and followed them. He discovered a small, very large pond—an anomaly that took 20 minutes to walk around. The pond was not on his map, which had been verified recently for accuracy.

Max pondered where this lake had come from. He found Murphy’s campsite and even his logbook, but no sign of Murphy himself. The logbook contained basic information and Murphy’s observations:

* The lake was perfectly round.

* The water was safe and untainted.

* Trees closest to the water bent towards it, but only the first 3 feet of the trees were affected.

Max continued to explore, but Murphy was nowhere to be found. Realizing that he might have missed something, Max decided to use the canoe for a quick paddle around the lake, hoping against all hope that he wouldn't find Murphy's body if he had drowned, Max set up his canoe. Knowing something had gone wrong, he took every precaution. One thing Max did right that Murphy hadn't was that he didn't hold the fishing line with his fingers; instead, he used a stick.