It has taken 7 long years to finally write those lines and without the experience and support of so many people, this book would not exist.
My deepest gratitude goes to my parents, Viguen and Chiarra, for their love and unwavering support throughout the journey. With very special thanks to my Mom for believing the story and enduring late night readings of early drafts and to my Dad for his tireless encouragements, kindness and boundless imagination.
The experience of writing this book was both internally challenging and rewarding. I especially want to thank the individuals that helped make this happen.
I will have to start by thanking my dearest friend Gurmeet for being my special advisor on Indian culture and linguistic heritage, with his knowledge, wisdom and guidance being transformed into long pages of this manuscript.
Very special thanks go to Fred for his patience and understanding during my long hours immersed in writing and academic pursuit, for giving me advices on the title, and for his insight and belief in this story that made it what it is. Thank you for being a friend I trust, honor and respect.
Having a lifelong idea and turning it into a book is as hard as it sounds, and my sincerest appreciation goes to my awesome friend Rob, the UK police officer, without whom the extensive research on weaponry would not have been possible.
I would like to express my endless gratitude to the memory of Dr. Simon Shnoll, whose guidance and expertise were instrumental in shaping the research direction of this book.
My heartfelt thanks go to the Yale University Library and Département des antiquités égyptiennes du musée du Louvre for providing resources and research support. And also, to the insightful feedback from my countless research collaborators around the world, who enriched the content, they deserve applause for strengthening the arguments and helping to shape this work. Last, to all the scholars who paved the way in this field, whose ground-breaking work laid the foundation for this exploration.
Finally, to the readers who embark on this adventure with me, thank you for giving these characters a home in your imagination.
But most of all, I want to thank the Universe, because without the Universe none of this could have ever been done.
There will always be those who are ready to believe anything they hear or read. There will always be those who exploit such a phenomenon.
Ранним утром седьмого марта по Люксембургскому саду торопливо шагал молодой человек в лёгком коротком пальто. День, оказавшийся для мировой истории роковым, уже поднимался над столицей, готовясь стать очень холодным – несмотря на обещанную метеорологами весну по небу ползли тёмные тучи, начинал накрапывать дождь и, словно насмехаясь над прогнозом погоды, дул промозглый зимний ветер. Последний отсчёт, никем не замеченный, достукивал по блестящему асфальту мутными каплями, и хотя в разных точках мира уже произошли на первый взгляд несвязанные между собою события, что лишь с огромным опозданием заметит мировая пресса, день этот пока что, как две капли воды, был похож на любой другой, а секундная стрелка продолжала так же беззаботно отсчитывать время, не подозревая, что даже ей вскоре придётся столкнуться с необратимыми для себя последствиями.
