Journey Into the Flame: Book One of the Rising World Trilogy

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Journey Into the Flame: Book One of the Rising World Trilogy Page 36

by T. R. Williams


  “What now?” Logan asked.

  “Sit in the middle chair behind the desk,” Chetan instructed. “You should see a security panel built into the table.”

  Logan walked around the desk and took a seat, setting Sylvia’s PCD down on the desk. Chetan eyed the controls and walked Logan through the various options until they found the control for the magnetic locks.

  “Hit that button, and the lock should disengage,” Chetan said.

  Logan pressed the button on the display, and a green light came on. “Looks like it worked.”

  He ended the call. As he exited the security office, he heard muffled voices and the sound of a struggle coming from down the hallway. He pulled out the gun that Valerie had given him and started running back to where he had left her and Sylvia. Suddenly, he stopped; the voices had gone silent. He pointed the gun straight ahead of him, his hand shaking as he walked quickly down the hallway. He remembered something his father would say to him: “If fear is the motivation that moves you forward, then I support your fear.”

  Within moments, he was back in front of the access door, but Valerie and Sylvia were no longer there. He knelt down and noticed a few drops of blood on the floor. Still kneeling, he moved closer to the window. He poked his head up carefully and saw the two guards they hadn’t seen earlier. Their guns were pointed at the heads of Valerie and Sylvia. Valerie’s forehead was bleeding. The blood on the floor must be hers, Logan thought as he dropped back down to the floor.

  Going through the access door didn’t seem to be an option any longer. He closed his eyes, leaned against the wall, and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Of all the things that should have been going through his mind, he remembered the mysterious voice that had spoken to him during his last candle journey: “When the finger of the unknown presents itself, be greater than Adam, and grasp its opportunity.” The sentence ran through his mind over and over again.

  In a moment of inspiration, he opened his eyes and readied himself. He had an insane idea.

  Twenty-three minutes left.

  57

  If you had everything you wanted, would you still have the desire to discover something new?

  —THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

  DHARAN, NEPAL, 4:22 A.M. LOCAL TIME,

  23 MINUTES UNTIL LIBERTY MOMENT

  “Foolish woman!” Andrea scolded Valerie. “Did you really think that the two of you had any chance of stopping us?”

  Valerie and Sylvia both remained silent.

  “And where is your little friend?” Andrea walked over to Valerie and leaned in close to her bloodied face. “Where is Camden Ford’s son?”

  “What would your husband say if he were alive today and could see what cold-blooded killers his wife and son turned out to be?” Valerie retorted. She stared at Andrea’s face, which was shadowed by her signature crimson hood. “Wouldn’t he be a little concerned about how you’ve sullied the Benson family name?”

  Lucius turned toward Valerie, brandishing a knife in his hand, offering her a reminder of what happened at the plantation.

  “Calm yourself,” Andrea told him. “She’s just a desperate woman who knows her end is near.” She turned to Sylvia. “Perhaps you know where Camden Ford’s son is?”

  “His name is Logan,” Sylvia said in a voice as defiant as Valerie’s. “And I don’t know where he is.”

  “No? Too cowardly to join you on this suicide mission? Not surprising, I suppose, that he should turn out so like his father—”

  Without warning, the door to the SCC opened, and in walked Logan with his hands raised above his head, his backpack in his right hand. One of the guards moved swiftly away from Sylvia and redirected his gun at Logan.

  Logan did not resist. Lucius grabbed the backpack out of Logan’s hand and shoved him into a chair next to Valerie, who looked astonished.

  “It seems that I was mistaken; you are braver than your father,” Andrea said to Logan. “But I dare say just as rash and foolish.”

  “Playing God is a dangerous game,” Logan warned. “The blood of millions will be on your hands.”

  “Not as many as are already on God’s hands,” Andrea said. “We are doing this for a greater purpose, a greater good.”

  “A greater good? How many tyrants and killers before you have used those words to justify their plans? Who are you to choose who will live and who will die?”

  “You sound just like your pathetic father.” Andrea shook her head, as if dealing with an ignorant child. “Fifty years ago, the people of the world were set free by the events of the Great Disruption. Men and women could do as they wished; there were no rules, no laws. But look how they used their newfound freedom. They fought with one another; they stole food and hoarded supplies. Do you know how many people died after the Disruption, how many were killed by their friends and neighbors?”

  “But the Chronicles set people on the right path,” Logan countered. “Those books changed everything. People grew out of their desperation and fear. They were able to choose their own greater good, not have it done for them!”

  “They did, indeed,” Andrea agreed. “But Fendral knew that utopia would not last for very long, which is why we wanted to take the Council to new heights. We could have ensured civility!”

  “You mean you could have ensured control!” Logan fired back. “The likes of you are trying to push the world back to where it was before the Disruption. Cynthia was right; she was right about the financial institutions, about the drug companies, and about the genetically modified food supply. You wanted her out of the way so you could plunge the world into dependency again. You’ll try to take out anyone who poses a threat to your rule!”

  “People have made their own choices,” Andrea said. “People have voted for a restored monetary system, they have voted to advance medical technologies, and they have voted for an abundance of food. They have elected the leaders who create the laws by which citizens must abide. We are the silent wind at the backs of your officials, ensuring that the world doesn’t run out of control again.”

  “The silent wind. True power is not the silent wind at the backs of corrupt politicians, it is the wind of encouragement that kisses the cheek of every sincere man and woman. You, of all people, should know this. Do you really think that exterminating the free thinkers of the world is going to produce what you want?”

  “Mother, you’re not buying any of this crap, are you?” Lucius took his gun and casually pointed it at Logan. “Let me just put one between his eyes.”

  “Oh, dear boy,” Andrea said, as she walked over to Logan, a sad smile on her face as she shook her head. “You are so much like your father, Camden. You fail to understand the same thing he did, that people are lazy. They will always need to be guided. They can barely grasp what is in front of them. We are merely giving them what they want.”

  Valerie and Sylvia listened to the exchange, their eyes shifting back and forth as it continued.

  “Lazy. Like Adam in the painting,” Logan whispered.

  “Yes, exactly like Adam,” Andrea said. “Since you’ve grasped Michelangelo’s symbolism, you must understand on some level that what we are about to do is for the greater good.”

  “Where is your compassion?” Logan asked.

  “Compassion?” she said, as if affronted by the mere idea. “Are we not more compassionate than the kings and queens of the past? Our solution requires no war, no battles, and very little suffering. It will be quick and painless.”

  “This isn’t going to work,” Logan said. “You should stop before it’s too late.”

  “Too late?” Andrea said in a haunting voice. “It is already too late. Look around you.” She pointed to the large monitors in the SCC, which were displaying broadcasts from around the world of people dancing and cheering and singing songs in happy anticipation of Liberty Moment. Andrea shook her head with something like disgust. She pointed to a screen displaying a clock: 04:25:32. “Look at them celebrating, totally u
naware of their impending liberation. When that clock reaches 04:45:00, they will emerge into a more peaceful and well-ordered world. Well, most of them will.”

  “Liberation!” Sylvia burst out. “All those people—why do you need to kill all those people?”

  “When you don’t know who your enemy is,” Logan said, “the swing of your sword must be very wide.”

  Andrea raised her eyebrows and nodded, pleased with Logan’s interpretation.

  “Let’s just take care of them right now,” Lucius snarled. “I’m sick of his philosophical babble.”

  “No,” Andrea said. “Let them watch. Let them witness the end of the Rising and the beginning of a new world order. Then, when Camden’s son has experienced the shame of his failure, we can send him to join his mother and father. I fear,” she added, looking at Logan, “your passing will have been as unceremonious as that of your parents. It is a shame that you were not able to meet with Simon. He could have told you much more about the unfortunate plight of your parents.”

  It took Logan a few seconds to realize what Andrea had said. She’d just admitted that Simon was indeed involved in his parents’ murder. “Oh, no, I plan on meeting with Simon,” he said. “In fact, I look forward to it. I have a few questions about his father and how he really came to possess the Chronicles.”

  Lucius lunged forward and slammed the butt of his gun into Logan’s head, knocking him to the floor.

  Valerie attempted to jump from her seat to assist Logan, but Lucius put his gun to her chest and forced her back into the chair. Logan lay on the floor for a moment, rubbing his head. He eased back into the chair, and he could see blood on his fingers.

  “Calm yourself, Lucius,” Andrea commanded.

  Lucius went to a nearby desk and started rummaging through Logan’s backpack.

  “The activation frequency has been uploaded.” Gretchen walked over, holding a gun pressed against the side of an SCC staff member. “What do we do with the remaining employees? We don’t need them any longer.”

  “We’ll deal with them when we deal with these three.” Andrea looked at Sylvia, Valerie, and finally, Logan. “Oh, Simon would also like for you to know that your friend Robert Tilbo does not seem to be faring too well.”

  “What have you done with my father?” Valerie shouted.

  “Your father?” Andrea suddenly looked confused.

  “Look what I found!” Lucius called out, as he pulled something out of Logan’s backpack.

  “Not now, Lucius!” Andrea was still staring at Valerie. “Robert Tilbo is your father?”

  Valerie was silent now. Andrea’s interest in her father worried her. She looked away without answering.

  “Mother, I think you really need to take a look at this,” Lucius insisted.

  “What in the world is so important?” Andrea said, annoyed. When she turned toward her son, her eyes widened in surprise. Lucius was holding up the frequency device that Sylvia had taken from the WCF lab.

  Logan watched the clock on the device. 04:29:58, 04:29:59. While Andrea was distracted by Lucius’s discovery, Logan turned to Valerie and Sylvia, looked at them intently, and nodded. Then he closed his eyes; somehow, without speaking, they knew they should do the same. Another second passed, and then a blinding violet light filled the control room.

  58

  Find a religion about the future,

  not one locked into the past.

  —THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

  DHARAN, NEPAL, 4:30 A.M. LOCAL TIME,

  15 MINUTES UNTIL LIBERTY MOMENT

  Pandemonium broke out in the Satellite Control Center. Logan heard people screaming and stumbling all around him. He remembered the blinding green light he experienced at the auction and hoped the violet light would have a similar effect now. The loudest, most bloodcurdling scream came from Lucius. Logan opened his eyes just in time to see the scorching-hot frequency device fall from Lucius’s burning hands. He was stunned to see the skin on both Andrea’s and Lucius’s faces shriveling and splitting, exposing the raw flesh underneath. Andrea pushed back her hood as she dropped to her knees. But unlike her son, she fell to the floor without uttering a sound.

  During the ensuing chaos, Logan tackled one of the guards to the ground, knocking the gun from the guard’s hand. The guard’s head hit the floor hard, and he lay unconscious or dead, Logan wasn’t sure. Sylvia also sprang into action, overtaking the other guard, who was struggling with his loss of sight. Dazed and blinded, Gretchen drew her weapon and started to fire randomly. A single shot from Sylvia took her down. Logan looked around for anyone who still posed a threat. He saw Andrea trying to crawl over to where Valerie had fallen, struggling to say something. The only words that Logan could make out were “Robert . . . Robert . . .” He ran over to her to hear what she was saying, but she collapsed before he could reach her.

  While the remaining staff members slowly recovered from the blinding light, Logan and Sylvia bound the hands and feet of the two remaining guards, one still lying on the floor. Sylvia then quickly took a seat at one of the control panels. She opened a communications link to Chetan, who had witnessed the alarming events in the SCC via the security cameras. After Chetan guided Sylvia in lifting the security lock-down, he told her he was on his way up to the SCC.

  “We need to disable the wavelength pulse!” Sylvia instructed the staff members. “We don’t have much time left!”

  Logan heard someone calling his name. “Valerie!” he shouted. He turned around to see her lying on the floor. He ran over to her.

  “I can’t move my legs,” she said, struggling to sit up and lean against a desk. “I can’t feel them.”

  Logan raised the legs of her trousers to see if she had been shot. “I don’t see any blood,” he said.

  “What happened?” she asked. “What did you do?”

  “I took a chance,” he said. “On the plane ride over, I read more of the doctor’s notes. He said that Andrea and Lucius were given the serum to cure their disease, but they had to wait seven days until the proper wavelength could be administered, or there would be side effects. I wondered if that first wavelength, the one that didn’t activate the DNA collar in the lab, was actually their activation frequency. I took a chance and set the device for two hundred five nanometers and set the timer to go off after seven minutes. It was the only way I could think of to take them out.”

  Logan and Valerie looked at the bodies of Andrea and Lucius sprawled on the floor. Lucius was lying next to the frequency device; it was still smoldering.

  “ ‘Side effects’ is an understatement. That is one painfully gruesome way to go,” Valerie said. She nudged Logan on the arm. “I’m gonna make an agent out of you yet,” she joked, yet Logan could see her grimacing in pain.

  “I don’t understand why you were affected,” Logan said.

  “No time to figure that out right now,” she said, weakly shaking her head. “We have to figure out how to stop the pulse.”

  “Sylvia is on it,” Logan said. He turned and looked at the fallen body of Andrea again. “Hold on just a second.” He placed a comforting hand on her cheek. Then he went over and removed Andrea’s PCD from her jacket pocket.

  Chetan rushed into the main control room and went directly to Sylvia, who was still seated at the controls. The two remaining SCC staff members joined them. After conferring a moment, Sylvia and Chetan went over to Valerie.

  “What happened to you?” Sylvia asked, as she kneeled beside her. “A medical team is on the way.”

  Logan was still struggling with Andrea’s PCD. “There’s no button on this,” he said.

  “It must be one of those new DNA-activated devices,” Chetan said, coming over to take a look. “They send a slight electrical pulse through the body, and if you have the right DNA, it turns on.”

  “Well, the security seems to be working,” Logan said, continuing to struggle with the PCD.

  “Let me take a look,” Valerie said.

  Logan handed her th
e device. As soon as her fingers touched it, it activated.

  “I don’t think that should have happened,” Chetan said with surprise.

  Sylvia grabbed the PCD from Valerie, and it once again deactivated. When she handed it back to Valerie, the PCD turned back on. “There must be something wrong with it,” Sylvia said. “The pulse must have done something to it.”

  Valerie looked puzzled as she held the activated PCD in her hand. She shook her head. Logan continued to look at her.

  Chetan went over to Lucius, checked his pants pockets, and confiscated his PCD. “Just out of curiosity . . .” He handed it to Valerie, who took it in her other hand. It activated, too. “So,” Chetan said, “I must ask the obvious question.”

  “Heavens, no!” Valerie exclaimed, clearly offended. “I am certainly not related to either of them.”

  “Hey, over there!” a voice shouted from the control table. “We have a problem. We can’t prohibit the pulse! And we have less than seven minutes left!”

  “Go help!” Valerie ordered Logan and the others. “I’ll be all right—just go!”

  Logan, Sylvia, and Chetan ran over to the control table.

  “We have to figure out how to override the programming,” Sylvia said, as she took a seat next to the staff member. Logan huddled over her anxiously.

  “The satellites are controlled by a series of operating tasks,” the staff member said. He brought up a list of them on the large display in front of them. “I’ve already filtered out the ones that run daily and any that are set to repeat. There are twenty or so left. We have to find the right task and delete it.”

  Beast I

  Beast II

  Harvey

  Pathaya

  Voyager X

  Opus Ninety

  Orion

  Denique Defaeco

  Simplicity

  Duplicity

  Jupiter Bound

  . . .

  “Why do techies always have to assign dramatic nicknames to everything?” Sylvia cried out in frustration.

 

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