Kindle Edition Amazon Mark Cornelius Amazon Mark A. Cornelius Category:  Action/Thriller Publisher: KDP ISBN-10:  1521513473 Type: Fiction Pages: 340 Copyright: 2014 ISBN-13: 9781521513477 Price: $0.99 (eBook) In his action novel, The Singularity, Mark Cornelius challenges our understanding of the cosmos, vividly showing what the human race would do in its last days. Now available at www.RUTmanagement.com or www.MarkCornelius.me A microquasar at the center of our galaxy, V4641 has begun to affect planet Earth and the rest of our solar system in inexplicable ways. In trying to determine how such a thing could happen, Danny Adamson, a physicist turned science editor for N.H.Q. Broadcast Services, has discovered not only an inconceivable connection between Earth and V4641 but also a critical miscalculation in the understanding of the creation of the universe. This error when corrected suggests that our planet's stability and the longevity of the human race may be grossly overestimated. Danny and all inhabitants of Earth must quickly learn what options they have to prevent total destruction of the planet. In this thrilling novel Mark Cornelius broaches the topic of end times and vividly shows what the human race would do if unable to deny the coming of the last days. Danny’s growing faith in the face of certain catastrophe and his observations about science and intelligent design make this a compelling read for both the doubtful and those who believe. The true scientific theories portrayed in The Singularity allow you to peer into a not so distant future that is far different than any of us has considered. Danny will help others see a possibility contrary to common thought. What if God is in control of the universe and has a plan in which humans play a crucial role. The Singularity will keep you engaged with its tight plot and fast pace.         Excerpt It’s 3:00 a.m., Greenwich mean time, and I’m one of two people currently occupying the cockpit of the Alvin III, a highly advanced manned submersible. Watch me nervously adjusting unfamiliar controls. I’m a certified diver, not a submersible pilot, trying to get the ship’s trim angle right as we descend. Where are we descending? Approximate longitude 30 degrees west, latitude 45 degrees north—two hundred miles southeast of Greenland, over a section of the Atlantic Ocean, containing the longest of the world’s submerged mountain ranges. I’ve been in this cockpit on several other occasions but never as command pilot. My first experience in this craft had been less than inspirational. The Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution gang, my current funding source, has given all of us "nonstaffers" several baptisms in Alvin III, even allowing me to take the controls for a brief period as we ran trial tests to a meager six thousand feet, a walk in the park for this baby. But this trip, I’m the one in charge during the entire dive, and we’re descending to twelve thousand feet—twice the depth I have ever explored. I’m so not ready. While we pop, creak, and groan our way into the darkness, Steve Billings, the designated copilot for this jaunt, feels compelled to act as tour guide. "Danny, you of course remember Alvin I’s exploits including locating a lost hydrogen bomb in the Mediterranean Sea in 1966, exploring the first known hydrothermal vent sites in the 1970s and surveying the wreck of RMS Titanic in 1986." I’m not remembering. As we pass three thousand two hundred feet, there’s a high-pitched squeal below the deck plating that is keeping me from doing so. The loud crack and twang announce additional pressure on the outside hull. "Whatever happened to Alvin II?" I nervously joke. The dead-silence reaction I receive, along with a solemn shake of the head, from Steve says all I need to know. There is an increasing snapping sound too close by, and I’m just beginning to realize my interest in abyssal studies doesn’t include actual field trips. So what am I doing in Alvin III? Fishing—what I call fishing anyway. The DEEP COSMOS Project group—Woods Hole’s somewhat bipolar title for our exploration team—had spent hour upon hour prepping an HROV (hybrid remotely operated vehicle) for its excursion into the Challenger Deep, the deepest underwater canyon known to exist on Earth. The data gathered by the HROV along the watery ridges of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge would be invaluable in determining the accuracy of our instruments for an ultimate manned mission to the Challenger Deep in the Pacific Ocean… "But that’s not enough," I had argued with the project leader. "We can’t adequately validate what we trust the equipment to show us unless we also supervise the results firsthand." Was I out of my mind, arguing such an obvious point with the Woods Hole staff? "I assume you are volunteering for the duty?" The project leader was already writing my name on the assignment roster. I assaulted him with my thoughts. I most certainly am not volunteering! But my actual spoken response was more cowardly. "There are other people far more familiar with submersible capabilities and who know how the sensors react under real-time conditions—" "But none who have as good a grasp of the terrain and oceanic conditions. I’ll have Steve Billings go down with you." Had I just been ordered into the breach? "Besides, you’ll need the piloting experience for later missions." The project leader had just nicely justified my demise. And so we sink. Our high-tech coffin is performing exactly to specifications. Steve is a good guy and tries his best to encourage me. "That’s a good descent rate. You’re horizon needs adjusting though." So does my blood pressure. "Ambient external temperature: four degrees Celsius. Saline content: seven thousand parts per million." Perfect conditions to die in. "Depth: 4,200 meters and leveling off." Out the side portal, a pair of eyes reflects off the lights. More pairs of eyes… Thousands of swimming eyes… Are we the ones under observation by the locals? Concentrating on the readings help me ignore the surreal external images as well as the unwelcomed noises attacking the shell of our fragile egg and which shout impending doom. Ask her. What? Where did that thought come from? I’m submerged in a dark, cold world with an audience of alien creatures, and my mind wanders there? You want to. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and she wants to be asked. You know it deep inside. Deeper than this place you explore. I can’t think about that now. I’m in over my head, literally, with other developments like the thin thread that keeps this ship and its crew alive. This Atlantic spot we occupy has been selected to test our communications and telemetry equipment because of its depth and because it’s not so far from Woods Hole’s comfortable home waters off the Massachusetts coastline, that if trouble were to arise, we could load up our gear and zip back to safe harbors. Trouble is about to arise. Maybe if I pretend I know what I’m doing… "Set course eighteen degrees east-northeast." "Toward that outcropping? Why do you want to go there?" Oh no, Steve has just realized I may not know what I’m doing. "Let’s see how sensitive the new ultrasound microphone is. We can test it by bouncing a sonar signal off the adjoining canyon wall." "Great idea," Steve responds, inspired by my stupidity. I’m such a poser. Steve actually seems to believe I’m not making this stuff up as we descend, and he settles back into copilot mode. "Depth: 4,482 meters and holding. Distance to target: point five kilometers." When I’m in uncomfortable situations—and this certainly qualifies as one of the most of those—I start talking to myself. Your target is Misty. Marry her. Stop daydreaming, Danny boy. You’ve got to get your mind off your life and on your job. Wait, I didn’t mean it that way…I need a distraction, something in the real world. I know. I’ll try humor… "Fire forward torpedoes!" "What?" Steve is confused again. I have always wanted to say that, and Steve is not amused. As we near the rock wall, the outside lights reveal an eerie landscape of juts and crags, any one of which could skewer us if a sudden random current in the right direction catches us by surprise. I open my mouth and suggest a seemingly innocent activity. "Let’s bounce a sonar signal and see what we pick up on the speakers." Copilot Steve complies, and the audible ping predictably rings through the cabin. A totally random idea comes to me. "I want to run an acoustic wave test to see what kind of effect we can create at this depth. Send another ping and feed the response to the external speakers." "What will that prove?" "Give me a ping. One ping only, please." Steve doesn’t get that joke, either. Obviously, he isn’t a Sean Connery fan, but he does as he’s requested. The result is attention getting. The ping turns to a rippling buzz, which reverberates from seemingly nowhere and everywhere around us. I can feel it in my seat and in my teeth and in the very atmosphere of the cockpit. Steve tentatively touches the front viewport, and I can tell by his immediate pullback reflex action that the pane is vibrating as well. "Sweet!" is his response, but there is as much tension as curiosity in his voice. "Why did it do that?" "Resonant harmonics—the ‘astroboys’ and ‘rock hounds’ play with it all the time—bouncing different frequency signals off objects to get them to vibrate. We…they…want the objects they’re studying to sing back to them." "Astroboys and rock hounds?" "Astrophysicists and geophysicists." "Yeah, I got that. It just sounded funny coming from you. You’re a little bit of both, aren’t you?" Steve has read my background. I’m beginning to like him. "I’ve never seen that done with underwater gear. We only want to know a depth, bearing, distance, and shape." "Pretty boring. Is there a way to increase the signal intensity?" "What for?" Steve is just full of questions. "The reaction we got last time suggests we’re in the…right harmonic key—a lucky happenstance. Maybe we can create a cyclical reverberation, you know, like a tuning fork that is touched to a piano string which is tuned to the same pitch." Steve shrugs his shoulders. "I never played the piano." Still, he obediently increases the sonar intensity by a factor of one and presses the button again. This time, the ping-turned-buzz begins to settle into a persistent throb. We both hear something else that doesn’t sound good at all. Toward the bow and starboard side of the Alvin III is a rumble. It ebbs and flows with the throbbing harmonic cascade we have created. The music I’ve conjured up soon turns from a pleasant lullaby into a heavy metal rock concert. The thousand eyes outside realize this too and wisely scatter. "Steve, take the controls." "Why?" "Because you know this ship better than I do. Get us away from that rock wall, fast!" As Steve reacts, reversing the propellers with precise but painfully slow results, we begin inching to our stern. The crumbling pile of rock and mud before us gives chase, and the rumble of the chaos reaches into the heart of my fears. We’re going to be simultaneously shaken and crushed to our doom. You should have listened, Danny. You should have asked her. I’m listening now, and I swear that if Steve gets us out of here with our lives, I’ll spend the rest of mine with Misty!

Where Science meets Eschatology
The book held me captive from start to finish. As a Christian I appreciated how each character was portrayed on his or her journey of faith especially as they were faced with the reality of the end times.

Some great thinking points.
If you’ve read the Left Behind series, this is along the same vein. It’s a very different take on the origin of the impending apocalypse, taking things from a much more scientific approach. The bulk of the religious aspect doesn’t come until late in the book, and even when they do, the two traditionally warring belief systems (science and faith) manage to coincide pretty well. A diverse cast stars in this novel, bringing some interesting insights and perspectives into the plot. There’s some very great humor, and some discussions that will definitely make you think.

In the end, God exists
Mark Cornelius takes an incredibly complex subject, what some call the End Times, and transfers it through logic and faith to a better understanding of God's relationships with us as individuals. Now as in ancient times, intellect can get in the way and effectively blocks out God's call to us. But in the life of Danny, the lead character, we see how God works in his own time and his on ways to give us all a chance. This book touches on ancient religions, cutting edge science, global politics and simple evil. In the end, it all leads to the existence of the almighty. There is no other explanation. Well written with humor, reflection and insight.