by  Gianfranco Menghini

Kallitala. The unknown paradise

Novel

An industrious people from Ancient Greece, due to a terrifying explosion of Volcano Etna over three thousand years ago, crossed the Pillars of Hercules and with tremendous difficulties that absorbed to his extreme forces, at last, discovered a large island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Featuring an extraordinary willpower and a firmness of purpose, they gave themselves clear and harsh laws. No waste of time in religions, mythologies or superstitious behavior. They entirely dedicated to improving their situation. Thanks also to the fertility of the island-continent of land and its vast mineral and fish resources added to its extension and beauty, baptized with the name of Kallitala. When Christopher Columbus ventures into the huge ocean to reach the legendary Cathay, these people who do nothing in common with humans, has come to a level of technology as to considered inconceivable even today. They hid the island under an electromagnetic bell that makes it invisible to everybody and to all the most sophisticated optical engineering gadgets, including spy satellites, with a border that exceeds forty miles around its coast and more than ten kilometers in high. No ship or aircraft can punch, even by mistake, his living space because, without that external noticing, the bow of their vehicles is diverted to follow the parallels and meridians drawn by the men. All these and other things which notwithstanding now you can imagine how, to give just one example, a powerful and immense machine whose core composed of a chemical material similar to that of the human brain, but redundant of neurons crossed by billions of fine gold filaments to a nana-amperage electricity, the operation of which is more than hundred million of the most. Unfortunately, the people of the Hellenes share with mankind: the air we breathe, and since they are very sensitive to every slightest decrease in air composed despite the island situated on the fault line bisecting the Atlantic seabed, the polluted air also comes there.For which the original inhabitants of Kallitala, invent a panel that captures the neutrinos from the sun, which transformed into an energy producer such as to use for always, that imparts to an electric motor to any of the power needed to propel vehicles of all kinds, including planes. That, in the hope of inducing the mankind to refrain from using engines working with petroleum fuels, offering it free to all…

Read an excerpt from the book

1 – THE ISLAND OF MYSTERY

He slackened a bit the mainsail not because the wind would blow with intensity. Indeed, the aura coming from the West was also light, but to get himself a little shade. He left the cap in the cabin and not desiring to move the rudder to go to it, although the Sun would hammer over his head. He touched the hair that had long and thick, felt them burning and then, after being quenched himself with the water from the bottle half full of water became hot as urine, he poured the rest of the head. So that, at least to get back the lock of hair that was falling in drops on the face, he had to leave both the steering wheel either a little rope that held the mainsail, for a handful of seconds. Quite long enough, however, that and the mainsail, abandoned to itself, came backward going to bang on his head, knocking him unconscious.
With the wilting of his body in the cockpit, the line tied to the right arm went in tension still enough to hold the boom, so when the wind strengthened, it swelled sail and jib, the boat tilted a few degrees to port and ran at sea straight as a ramrod until disappeared behind the horizon the little islands of the Florida Keys and, as last, the tower buildings of Key West.
Soul traveling companions, a school of dolphins belonging to a different order of marine mammals known as the man. They did not play as they are to use, jumping between a wave and the other formed by the wake of the boat, because the speed was not sufficiently to generate a wave high enough to be able to put their cusped heads. However, they seemed would do as the escort to him, four of them on each side, two pairs at the bow and as many at the stern. All which think that under their protection, nothing more than positive would happen to the vessel, given that it went smooth as if would have an electric motor, also seeming to the skipper, instead of the blow to his head of the slow return of the boom, not so violent, would be inoculated an anesthetic, since passed a lapse of time from the slight accident, and he remained lifeless.
And the boat, instead, a cutter vintage of fifty feet fully equipped with the latest avionics for the long course, but with the boom too small healed by today’s standards, especially for a skipper. Furthermore, tall, in the meantime had to have covered a countless of miles and when the lone sailor was recovering his senses, although not yet able to steer the boat nor apparently to realize what was happening, it increased the pace in a sea that was done smoothly, to mark the electronic speedometer speeds of over thirty knots. All that without causing both the big smudge of the bow neither the accentuated vibrations to the hull than those who usually should be raised by a stiff wind, but not too high.
When the sailor resumed the senses entirely, saw before him the profile of two promontories, which outlined against the sea to form a large darse toward which the boat was fast heading without that him, although he would try to turn the rudder, could prevent it and while he was worried about a possible damage at the helm, the eight strange dolphins emerged with their heads from the sea by issuing their typical sounds that the man understood as his fellow men would speak: ‘Let us guide. You do not go to encounter any danger.’
The young man, as only a person in full possession of his physical forces could put into the sea alone to steer a sailing boat of that size albeit if he had done it with the intention to drive along the Keys and circumnavigate the Marquesas, at less than fifteen miles from Key West and the coming back, decided to let be guided because he had any possibility to contrast that supreme will that was attracting him to the ground.
He had arrived from New York three days before to take a period of rest and reflection and experimented sailor who had done countless experiences in the Nantucket Sound, that little tour in a sea just choppy by a light breeze, more than a test of skill, he had considered it as an ordinary tourist trip.
He did not realize, however, as he could not rule the cutter, which was heading now, pushed by an unknown force and with those strange eight peculiars as beautiful dolphins at hips, toward the center of the broad inlet that as gradually that he penetrated there, showed a wide arched beach edged of the typical yellow-gold of the reef sand. He noticed that the sun’s rays were no longer flushing red as few hours before, the sea was like a plank and the sails almost flabby. Nevertheless, the boat sped to seven knots as he saw the log. More interested in enjoining the beautiful landscape that was to spring up in front of his eyes than to guess which engine would push him, he had not realized that the dolphins were not yet on the hips of the boat. Perhaps they had gone to play in the waves of the wakes of other vessels or maybe engulfed in the dark sea. Never he should imagine that, instead. The cetaceans were placed under the keel and, like the pilot fish with the sharks. They were attacked there and pushed the boat directing it, thanks to their sense of direction, toward the landing. Which materialized as itself a few minutes later as a well-equipped dock to which, with a maneuver worthy of the best skipper, the boat came alongside and a young man by the apparent age from twenty years. He jumped on board and without saying a word, took the ropes of the bow and the stern and moored it.
The man, enchanted by the magnificent landscape and by all maritime operations performed in a workmanlike manner, though he was dreaming. The day, which was turning to his end, was beautiful, with a Sun that shined still high on the distant peaks of the purple mountains that stood out in a pink-blue sky. In the last hours, it had not made the suffocating heat of when he landed at the airport of Key West and all seemed heavenly, with a balsamic air that had the flavor of the intense scents of spring where the lone sounds were those of the light water lapping and the others, garrulous more than strident, issued from the throats of many sea fowls, which swirled around.
When he emerged from the cabin where he had gone to take the duster considered that, with the setting Sun, the air was beginning to be cool, he did not find yet the young man who had tied the ropes to the boat with two perfect bowline knots. He looked around himself quite dazed and, not foreseeing any human presence, he ventured himself on the pier reaching up his base that ended on a hard ground after passing through an underlying long bridge at the eye level, the beautiful the golden pink sand beach. The flat terrain covered by the typical vegetation growing in the sea stretched itself as far as the eye to the distant hills behind their rounded cusps where we could foresee the saw-toothed frame of the mountains…