The Sol 3 Agenda

by Brian Kitchen

  “I hope so,” John answered.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  The next morning Cath’s driver and bodyguard, another android called Aengus had driven John and Morann to the railway station in Penzance, where they caught the first train to London. Both were now dressed stylishly, in the current business attire of the UK. John didn’t feel comfortable in his suit, but then he always hated them and especially having to wear a tie. Morann wore a stylish trouser suit and a silk blouse.

  “Well good luck and come and visit me again when you’re back in Cornwall,” Catherine who had come to see them off said. “And good luck with your mission.”

  The train journey still took about the same amount of time as when John had travelled from London to Cornwall, back in 1969 and to kill some time John picked up a discarded newspaper. The main stories seemed to be about how the UK’s membership of the European Economic Community had affected the country in its first three months of membership, the IRA’s bombing campaign and the new valued-added tax, or VAT as it was being referred to, which had come into effect at the beginning of the month.

  “Interesting news, John?” Morann queried.

  “Quite depressing really, oh here’s a bit better story, apparently Pink Floyd’s album, ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ is doing well and is climbing up the charts.”

  “Pink Floyd are a pop group aren’t they John?”

  “Well, a rock band actually Morann, but I won’t hold that against you.”

  “Do you like them John?”

  “I don’t really know. I haven’t heard any of their music.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  London, April 1973

  Arriving in London, John and Morann took a taxi from London Paddington to the firm of solicitor’s offices.

  “We’re here, Guv,” the taxi driver, a very chatty cockney announced, pulling up outside a rather grand Queen Anne building. John got out of the taxi, paid the cabbie for the journey, adding a generous tip. Morann was looking at the brass nameplate by the door.

  “Snodgrass and Wedlock,” she announced. “Strange names, John.”

  John opened the door and walked in. A door led off from the hallway with a sign saying reception and so he opened the door to it and walked in, followed by Morann.

  “Can I help you sir, madam?” asked the rather attractive female receptionist, in a posh voice. In her early twenties, she had short black hair cut in a bob and wore a stylish two-piece business suit of jacket and skirt and a white blouse. She sat behind a highly polished mahogany desk, which only had an old-fashioned telephone on it.

  “I have a letter left to me by my grandfather, which I was told to bring here when I was 21 years of age,” John said handing over the by now rather soiled and rumpled letter.

  The receptionist took it from him with a slight look of distaste on her face, unfolded it and read it. Her facial expression changed to one of shock and surprise and she looked up from the letter and studied John’s face very closely.

  “You are John Trevaskis?” She asked. John nodded. The receptionist then picked up the phone and dialled three numbers. John thought they were 6, 4 and 9. He could hear it ring out. The phone was answered at the other end.

  “A John Trevaskis is here to see you sir,” the receptionist said. Something was said back in return, but John couldn’t hear it. The receptionist put the phone down.

  “Mr Snodgrass will see you now, sir. Go up the stairs to the second floor, and knock on the door, third on the right.”

  “Thank you,” John said, wondering what this Mr Snodgrass would be like. He had a picture in his mind of a character from a Dicken’s novel, bushy eyebrows and a moustache. What would the inheritance that his grandfather had left him turn out to be, John thought, as he and Morann walked up the grand staircase to the second floor.

  John had been three years old when his grandfather had died aged forty-four years. Thinking back, John realised that his mother had never said what his grandfather’s cause of death had been. She’d given him a photo of his grandfather, which John carried in his wallet, but John only had a hazy memory of his grandfather bouncing him on his knee and sadly no other ones.

  Watching John and Morann go up the stairs, the receptionist waited until they were out of earshot and then picked up the phone, dialled 9 for an outside line and then dialled a long-distance number. The phone rang out three times and was then picked up.

  “John Trevaskis Junior has arrived here as you predicted. I’ve sent him up to see Mr Snodgrass.” The receptionist listened to the reply given at the other end of the phone. “Yes, I’ll do that.” She then answered. The receptionist then replaced the hand set on the receiver, took out a writing pad from the drawer in her desk and wrote a short note. She looked at what she’d written and then carefully folded the note into four.

  Reaching the second floor, John went up to the door which had been specified. It had a brass plate on it bearing the name Samuel Snodgrass. John knocked on the door.

  “Enter,” a voice bellowed from within.

  John opened the door and walked in. An elderly man with white hair and old fashioned pince nez spectacles, who John assumed was Mr Snodgrass, peered owlishly at him. The was another man in the room, standing looking out of the window with his back towards John. He had the same ginger hair as John, though the man’s hair was lighter.

  “So, you are John Trevaskis Junior,” the man at the desk stated, rather than enquired. “You have the letter left to you by your grandfather, John Trevaskis Senior?”

  “Yes sir,” John stepped forward and handed the letter to him.

  The man unfolded the letter and peered closely at it, then held it up to the light, smiling when he saw the watermark in the paper.

  “Well this appears to be genuine. Shall I do the test?” the man behind the desk half-turned in his chair, addressing the man standing looking out of the window. The man nodded his head but made no attempt to turn around. Nor did he speak.

  “Now where did I put it,” the man at the desk said to himself, first opening up one drawer of the desk and rummaging around in it and then another, when he didn’t find what he was looking for. “Ah, here it is.” He reached into the drawer and took out what John recognized as one of the medical diagnostic scanners that the Aos Si used. The man held it out towards John.

  “Put your right digit finger on the green pad,” the man instructed. John did as he was told and felt a slight tingling sensation. He’d known what to expect, as John had been subject to several scans during the time he’d been on the Sol 6 Base. He guessed that this time it would be scanning his genetic composition to see whether, or not, he was who he said he was. The scanner bleeped three times. “Yes, you are who you say you are, John Trevaskis Junior.” The man looking out of the window turned around smiling.

  “So, John, after nearly fifteen years we finally meet again,” the man said stepping up to John and giving him a bear hug. Then he stepped back and appraised him. “You’ve grown up to be a fine young man. I think he’ll be up to the task that we have for him, what do you think Samuel?”

  “I think he’ll do very well, very well indeed,” the white-haired man with the pince nez spectacles answered.

  John could only stare in shock and amazement at the man standing before him. It was the man in the photograph that John had carried around in his wallet for all these years, his grandfather and he only looked a couple of years older than when the photo had been taken.

  Chapter 8

  Cornwall, July 1985

  Kate looked out of her bedroom window at Lost Valley Manor, across to the trees at the edge of the wood. Then something drew her attention to the lawn down below her window. At first, she thought that it was a rook, or a crow and then noticed that it had a red bill. She then realised that it must be a chough, very rare these days, but she knew that it had once been native to Cornwall. Kate also knew that this wasn’t its natural habit however and that it was more likely to be found on grazed cliffs and heathland.
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  Kate had been reading all about choughs in an article in a magazine that Cath had given her. After the revelations that Cath had made to her over the past two days, Kate had found it hard to get to sleep and so had slipped back into a childhood habit of reading before nodding off. At least she wasn’t so anxious about Dave, as she’d been when she’d first arrived at Lost Valley Manor. Kate had phoned home again yesterday afternoon and heard that Dave was recovering well after his operation. Her mother had also told her he was being transferred to a private hospital, where he would get specialised treatment unavailable on the NHS.

  “But how on are you going to pay for it, mum, it’ll cost the earth,” Kate had asked her.

  “Oh, a charity is apparently picking up all the bills and funnily enough it’s called The Penrose Family Foundation,” Kate’s mum had told her.

  “Where is this hospital?” Kate had enquired.

  “It’s in Wales apparently, at Colwyn Bay. We’ll be able to visit him there too Kate. Do you remember those holidays we had at Colwyn Bay?”

  “Yes mum.”

  “Happy times, Kate.”

  “I’m sure they’ll come again, mum,”

  Kate had gone to see Cath afterwards.

  “Mum tells me Dave is being transferred to a private hospital at Colwyn Bay and that it’s all being paid for by The Penrose Family Foundation,” Kate had told her. Cath nodded.

  “Yes, it’s one of our specialised Orthopaedic facilities, does a lot of ground breaking treatment. He’ll get the best possible care there, Kate, you can be assured of that.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you Cath. This is a great relief.”

  “He’s family, Kate. He is my great nephew after all.”

  Kate looked out of her bedroom window again, before going to take a shower and saw that the chough was still hopping about on the lawn.

  As she showered Kate thought back to the conversation that she’d had with Cath the previous day. The revelation that the Varns had the capability for time travel had come as a complete surprise.

  “I thought it was just science fiction and that in reality it wouldn’t be possible,” Kate had told her great aunt.

  “There are limitations apparently,” Cath had told her. “One is unable to travel back to a time that one has lived through before. In your case Kate that means from the day that you were born, up until the present day, you wouldn’t be able to travel back to any time in between. You could travel back however, to any time before you were born and to any time in the future. There is one exception to this however, which applies to interstellar travel and that is the period that one is in stasis, suspended animation. One is able to travel back to any period within that.”

  “I still can’t get my head around interstellar travel either, Cath,” Kate had said. “It’s all like something out of Star Trek, or Star Wars, or Doctor Who.” Cath smiled at her great niece who she was growing very fond of, more so as her own daughter had died many years before.

  “It seems like science fiction Kate, but it is reality. I know that for a fact.”

  “Have you travelled to the Varn home world then?” Kate had asked her.

  “No, but I have been to our base on Iapetus, one of Saturn’s moons.” Kate’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “Not interstellar travel I know, but space travel all the same.”

  “Wow! What was it like?”

  “Well to be honest, it was just like flying, but in space, rather than the sky,” Cath answered with a faraway look in her eyes. “It was a very smooth ride, mind you Morann is a very good pilot.”

  “Morann? Who is she?”

  “She’s an android. You’ll meet her one day, in fact one day soon.”

  “Did you have to wear a space suit?”

  “No, it was just like going for a ride in a car. In fact, the seat was far more comfortable than some car seats I’ve sat in.”

  “What was the base like and why did you go there?”

  “The base is huge, Kate, and most of it is underground. The gravity is very similar to that of Earth and you don’t realise that you’re underground, as it is well lit and even has a garden with a pond and fountains. As for why I had to go there Kate, well it was for some specialised medical treatment. I was dying of cancer, but I was treated for it at the base and completely cured.” That stunned Kate even more than Cath’s earlier revelations. Cancer was a killer disease and on Earth no cure had yet been found for it.

  “So, you owe your life to the Varns then, Cath,” Kate said.

  “Yes, well to be more exact, the androids who run the Sol 6 Base, Kate and actually it’s an Aos Si Confederation base. It was established when the Civil War ended, and the Empire was overthrown, and the Aos Si Confederation was established.”

  “Yes, you said the Triumvirate were imprisoned.”

  “That’s right Kate. The Aos Si Confederation had abolished the death penalty for all crimes, including genocide, which technically the release of the Infertility Plague had become. Some alien races had been condemned to eventual extinction due to its effects. So, the Morrigan, the Nemhain and the Badhbh were condemned to imprisonment in eternal stasis in what I suppose you would call pyramids.”

  “Pyramids, what like the ones in Egypt?”

  “Exactly like the ones in Egypt, Kate. That’s where they were imprisoned. The pyramids they were imprisoned in were built deep underground and then buried under tons and tons of sand thousands of years ago and so have never been found, well not as yet anyway.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Ken Tregoning felt very uncomfortable whilst the Detective Sergeant rummaged through Kate’s things. He’d had no choice, however. You didn’t argue with the police these days and especially not the Special Branch.

  “Looks like she left in a hurry,” King said, tipping a drawer full of Kate’s clothes onto the caravan floor. Ken saw they were underclothes and averted his eyes. “Hope she’s got enough knickers with her.” King said smirking and then looked under the drawer. He’d sometimes found incriminating documents sellotaped to the bottom of them, but not in this case. “Any idea where she might have gone?” King swung around to look Ken full in the eye.

  “No,” Ken stammered. This copper unnerved him. He looked a nasty sort, like the kind that had used to bully Ken at school.

  “You weren’t getting your leg over then?” King asked uncouthly.

  “Certainly not! Kate wasn’t that kind of girl!” Ken angrily retorted. King snorted but made no comment.

  “Well she doesn’t seem to have left anything incriminating behind, so I’ll be on my way,” King eventually said to Ken’s relief, after searching through some other drawers. “You’d better be sure to telephone that number that I gave you, should she turn up here again, or there’ll be serious consequences.” Ken nodded, though there was no way he’d betray Kate, if she ever did come back. He guessed however that he’d never see her again.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  King left the caravan park and drove to the public telephone box that Kate had been using when he’d tried to apprehend her and dialled Hardgrave’s number.

  “Nothing to report, sir,” King told Hardgrave when he was eventually put through to him. “I’ve been to the caravan that Penrose was renting at a local caravan holiday park and searched it thoroughly but found nothing incriminating. She was working as a barmaid in a local pub and rented it from one of the locals who went in there.”

  “I see,” Hardgrave answered, sounding to be in a sour mood. “Well, Hoskins and Clark went to Paddington and met the train that she was supposed to be on, but there was no sign of her. Of course, she could have got off it at any of the stations before London, though I doubt it myself. I’ve been digging around in the file that we have on her father, David Penrose. It seems that although he lives up north, the Penrose family originally comes from St Just, in Cornwall and so I suggest that you go there and make some enquiries. There may still be some relatives in the area and Kate Penrose may have sought s
anctuary with them. A long shot, I know, but it’s worth trying.”

  Hardgrave ended the call and before he left the telephone box, King thought it prudent to phone his contact in the Rectifiers.

  “Yes, what have you to report?” the usual icy cold voice demanded to know, almost as soon King had dialled the number.

  “I’ve found out that Kate Penrose was working in a pub and renting a caravan at Praa Sands from one of the locals. I’ve searched the caravan, but there was nothing to find. She wasn’t on the train from Penzance when it got to London, that’s of course if she was ever on it in the first place.”

  “So, are you saying that you don’t know where she is?”

  “Well I’ve just found out that she may still be in Cornwall as she might have some relatives at St Just, where her family originally comes from.”

  “Very well, you’ll be going there then.”

  “Yes. Has she made any more phone calls home?”

  “She has on the same secure satellite phone. Obviously, we don’t know what was said.”

  “Right then, I’d better be off to St Just.”

  “Yes, you had better be off there and King I now want her taken alive, so you’d better be very careful, as you might find out that she’s protected by some very powerful and dangerous people. Be on your guard at all times and King and remember that I now want her taken alive. Report to me when you have her in your custody.”

  “Ok, I will and thanks for the warning,” King said a little unnerved. He didn’t like the sound of that at all, but the line had gone dead before he could ask who these powerful and dangerous people might be.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  London, July 1985

  King would have been very surprised to learn that his contact in the Rectifiers who he’d just been talking to, was a very beautiful young American woman with long ash blonde hair called Mona McBeolain. Mona was of medium height with a lithe, perfectly proportioned body and it was no wonder that men turned to look at her when she entered a room, and this was one of those occasions. She had just been walking into the main reception room at the US Ambassador’s residence, where she’d been invited to a party, when the Motorola 8000X mobile phone that her assistant, Gayle, was carrying suddenly rang out. Mona immediately stopped walking and turned to Gayle, who handed the phone over to her. After listening to the call and having said what she’d needed to say, Mona then handed the phone back to Gayle.