As well as being a pilot and a military man, Stanford McKrause was interested in writing fantasy

fiction. He was a prolific author and left behind a considerable number of manuscripts for his family
and circle of friends. Here is one of them:

Stanford Mc Krause

The Sons of Atlantis

I opened the cabin which led to the crafts control room, and ran my hands over the instruments on the
control panel, enjoying touching the strange materials. I marveled at the reflections produced by the
light of the oil lamp on the metal alloys. It was all so different - everything I could see was totally
unknown to me. I felt insecure and was afraid of the temptation I felt to defile it.
I was born in Malaga, in a fertile region on the Mediterranean coast. It was one of the most beautiful
places in the whole of Al-Andalus.
My name is Hamid and I am descended from a secret lineage of peoples who lived in distant lands,
which disappeared in a huge natural catastrophe a long time ago. My father told me that in the place
that we are from, there was once an advanced civilization and the men who lived there knew things
that humanity has never since been able to understand.
My father arrived in Al-Andalus many years ago, and his reasons for coming then were very different
to the motives that guide his heart and his soul now. In the place where our ancestors lived, the people

knew how to transform nature, but a few ambitious individuals used this power for evil and their
greed destroyed the ancient cities.
Melek Hoc, as my father was originally called, decided to travel here to make his fortune through
robbery and looting. He changed his name to Omar in order to fit in. He didnt find it difficult to
make a considerable fortune in a short time as, after finding refuge in the hills around Malaga, he had
only to use his mysterious arts, which no-one around him understood. His victims were always tax
collectors, who cowered before the terrible power of his weapons, and not even the soldiers who were
sent by Emir Muhammad I were able to defeat him. The name of Omar was already known and some
believed that he was a terrifying demon who stalked the hills, the possessor of dreadful tools which
could make the earth tremble.
Nobody ever managed to catch sight of his face and this allowed him to integrate, becoming a part of
the local community too. He fell in love with a beautiful woman, Naila, and together they had two
children, Hamid and Aisha. He kept his real identity secret from us and we never knew about his
activities in the hills.
At that time, Omar already had a sizeable fortune, but there was one idea that repeatedly returned to
him and which wouldnt let him sleep. The few survivors from his old civilization had a pact not to
reveal their arts and sciences to strangers. If they were to find out about the dishonorable way in
which he was using his powers, he might be exiled or even sentenced to death for bringing the
reputation of his ancestors into disrepute.
However, he wanted to plan a last heist. A large shipment of golden coins and silver dirhams, taxes
that the peasants were obliged to pay, was going to be transported along a dangerous route in the hills,
accompanied by a military escort for protection. Blinded by ambition, Omar was not able to see that it
was a trap. That carriage, guarded by over one thousand men, was the bait designed to overthrow the
demon.
At midnight the soldiers heard a deafening noise. Above their heads appeared a spherical object,
emitting a blinding light.
Omars voice boomed out like thunder: Abandon the goods if you want to live! From the flying
object appeared bolts of lighting, accompanied by the roar of thunder, and suddenly the trees were
alight, dispelling the blackness of the night. Without thinking, the soldiers turned on their heels and
ran away, terrified. When all that remained was the murmur of the wind and the rustling of the leaves,
Omar descended from his machine, walked towards the carriage, opened the door and found that it
was empty.
An ambush!
He felt the pain of the arrows piercing his side, but he just had enough strength left to detonate the
weapon that he carried in his right hand, killing almost the whole troop. The rest of the soldiers fled in
a panicked retreat.
Omar dragged himself to the little village where we lived. My mother, my sister Aisha and I healed
his wounds and after he emerged from his delirium, he told us everything. At first we thought that he
was still affected, but once he had recovered his strength he showed us the cave in which he had
hidden his gravitational craft and many other marvels.

I now know that approximately 11,000 years ago, beyond what Plato referred to as The Columns of
Hercules, the rocks which flank the channel between the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean,
there existed an island continent the size of Asia Minor and Libya combined. This land was known by
the name of Atlantis and for thousands of years it was the home of a glorious civilization. However,
due to a terrible, destructive war, the continent was drowned in a volcanic cataclysm and disappeared
beneath the waters of the Atlantic.
A few survivors were able to save some records and technology and together they formed a secret
society which was named The Sons of Atlantis. They guarded their ancestors knowledge jealously
and hope that one day their former home will be revived.
Our father also told us that since his ambition had led him to an erroneous path, now, full of
repentance, he would have to flee in order to avoid discovery by the secret society, and their reprisals.
Sadly, the stories of Omar the demon had travelled too far. Before he could leave, the Sons of
Atlantis found him and he was assassinated as he attempted to escape.
We donated all of the money which had brought so much misfortune upon our family to poor village
families, and wept bitterly for our father. My mother never fully recovered from his loss and a few
years later she passed away.
Meanwhile, his craft and his weapons remained hidden in a secret location in the hills of Malaga.
Only Aisha and I know where they are, and there they will remain for many, many centuries to come.
May God welcome Omar in Paradise. Glory to my father Melek Hoc!