One day in the basement of our house, I came across an old chest with a copper lock blackened by time. Exotic, junk, I thought. I should throw it away. Inside was a tattered notebook, as old as the chest but well-preserved. And there was nothing else. Who would want this junk that belongs in a landfill? How had it ended up here? I had no answers. But when I picked up the notebook, accounts of events witnessed by someone I did not know. I could not know who the author was, for the chest was incredibly old. I found the stories interesting and even fascinating. So, I decided to publish them. Some might say it's someone's fantasy or a hoax, but it can't be. Crystal skulls. Alien cats. Spies in South America. Nazis. Stalin. Isaac Newton and Jerusalem. Horror and fables. I'm not going to argue, but I have that notebook on my desk. A notebook found in Babylon. It's the city I live in.