“No, Melissa Williams is alive and well and still living in New York.” The intelligence chief paused. “We have reason to believe the victim was in fact Rachel Cohen...”
“Daughter of General Itzak Cohen?” cut in the President.
“Yes, daughter of the deputy director of Mossad...”
“Does this get any worse? We plotted the assassination of a foreign head-of-state – one of the few democratically elected ones in Southern Africa. We failed but managed to kill General Cohen's daughter.”
“It promotes the theory that the Israelis and Doctor Campbell are collaborating. It's the only explanation why the girl took the bullet.”
“Make this deniable. If anyone starts digging, make it look like the Russians or the Chinese – even the Iranians... Best of all would be all three. De Sousa will make a spectacle of this. Make sure this footage never gets aired. This was never the solution. An American nuclear submarine has been targeted – it's missing in action. Our response should not be as sloppy as this. We need to be firm and fixed in our intentions. How are preparations for the contingency we discussed?”
“At least another four weeks are needed.”
“Do what you can to bring it forward but it needs to be decisive.”
The President rose and left abruptly. Gary was left feeling distinctly ill-at-ease. A young girl had died a few hours ago on the orders of the American government. Perhaps she was an agent – not exactly innocent – but she had no trial and no opportunity to defend herself. Gary could not accuse her of a crime. She simply pushed forward and took a bullet intended for someone else. Gary considered it an act of absolute devotion or desperation – or maybe even duty. The events of the last few months had upset his naïve world-view. He had, himself, faced death and witnessed brutal killing. He felt stained by the blood that was being spilled yet those around him seemed to accept it as normal. He tried to tell himself they were making the world a safer place but day-to-day it felt very different. Whatever contingency plan the President referred to did not sound good.
Chapter 38
National Secure Archive Facility
Julia woke slowly. She felt cold and was shivering. She tried to bury herself deeper in her quilt but still she was frozen. Her head ached. Each time she moved she felt spasms in her neck. She thought of Omar. It had been ten days since she had given herself to him. Even now she felt his touch on her body, the tingle of his lips on her neck. He had gently untied her hair and let in fall across her shoulders and he caressed it. She had apologised saying it was her first time. Omar had nodded silently. They desired each other desperately and shared the rush of feeling. Part of her had lived in those moments since. She felt different from the others. She felt acutely that others noticed a difference and guessed the reason. She was confused and felt strongly self-conscious and self-assertive. Omar had given her something of himself; a measure of reassurance and confidence.
After some hours she dragged her aching limbs and body to the medical wing. She met Frank – thank God it was not Thomas on duty.
“I don't feel well,” Julia whimpered.
“You don't look well,” replied Frank. “Have a seat and pop this under your tongue.” He handed her thermometer then gripped her wrist and took her pulse. His face showed slight puzzlement while he looked at his watch and counted. Next she had to open her mouth while he inspected her tonsils. “You have a fever – probably a viral infection. I'll give you some pain killers and it's bed for you for a day or two. Your temperature is over one-hundred-and-five. It's nothing to worry about but try to drink plenty of water.”
She took the pills and was about to leave when Frank said, “You've been with Omar, haven't you?” Julia turned scarlet and flushed warm. Did he know? How could he know? “You've been to visit Omar, haven't you? He might carry some exotic disease we haven't been able to test for. I'd better take a blood sample – just in case.” The needle pierced her arm while Julia looked away. Frank finished and meticulously labelled the sample bottle. His advice was two pills every four hours. Julia took two straight away. His advice was back to bed; Julia headed to a briefing with Patriarch Ryan. She would endure this and then sleep it off. She arrived just as Patriarch Ryan opened the meeting.
“We have a serious situation developing and the future of the Ark – our home – is at risk if we do not deal with it. In the past four weeks, three of our community have walked topside. Each one is a loss to us. Each one will likely be dead or so acutely exposed to radiation that they will die soon. There is a belief – though no more than a rumour – that the topside is safe and we can survive up there. I, as much as everyone else, wish to believe this but it is simply not true. Radiation levels are still too high. The situation is this: people know about Omar and reason that if he can survive, why can't we? Some people question our decision to remain in the Ark. Some people have formed the opinion that they are kept here unnecessarily – that it is some kind of control mechanism. Now, all of us here know that is not the case. While we value freedom of expression, we recognise the tremendous responsibility that we inherited – that none of us chose. We are inextricably bound to preserve the Ark, the information that it holds and, above all, the humanity it shelters. This calling is our highest law and inspiration. Three valued members of our family departed from this haven in recent weeks. Until this moment, we accepted that every decade, perhaps one or two would follow our ultimate dream to seek a life on the surface. The recent trickle must not become an exodus.” At this point Patriarch Ryan rubbed his forehead and looked genuinely and gravely troubled. Julia felt sympathy for his predicament. She caught a new glimmer of understanding that he, too, was ensnared in this place and was just as much a prisoner of his over-arching obligation.
Julia, for the first time glanced round the room. Peter, the security director, sat next to Patriarch Ryan – on his right. Thomas was also present along with Amanda from education and Chris who was the engineering section leader. They all sat silently and awkwardly. Everyone had been indoctrinated from birth about their burden: they would one day re-inhabit the Earth but there would be a long wait until then – a wait beyond their lifetimes. Finally, Peter ventured, “We must withdraw all quotas for visiting the surface. We must impose a lock-down.” Julia collapsed internally. It was a completely predictable move on his part: rules and enforcement.
“It would prevent people leaving but it would not dispel the … belief.” It was Thomas who spoke.
“And we must prevent people leaving,” Peter reasserted.
“Two of those who left were from my section. I can't afford to lose more. We are two men down. I have guys working double shifts to cover and the strain is showing.” Chris reported on the engineering section. They kept the Ark functioning. They kept the lights on, the air fresh and the water drinkable. If they failed, the Ark would be snuffed out like a candle.
“I appreciate your efforts here, Chris, and we need to look at who we can reassign to your section to relieve the work load,” Patriarch Ryan responded. “As we are all aware, we have so few people: everyone is vital. We can't lose anyone else. We need to give serious consideration to Peter's proposal of a lock-down – more of a time to reflect and act rationally.”
Julia felt the need to speak even though her head was aching. “We could announce that Omar is, well, one of the Nephilim, that he is able to resist the radiation for some unknown reason. There is no reason why he shouldn't meet a wider group within the Ark. It's the most straight forward, transparent approach. People will continue to speculate wildly until they see and hear for themselves.” Julia saw the look of abject disapproval in Peter's face, others looked unsure. It was Patriarch Ryan who responded.
“You're right, Julia. It is the most honest approach but also somewhat naive. You may not be aware that Omar is the grandson of Doctor Campbell – that puts him under suspicion. We cannot be sure of his motives. We don't know his reason for coming here. For all we know, he could carry a deadly virus that will wi
pe us all out. His mere arrival has lost us three good people. We must regard him as dangerous. We should never have brought him into the Ark but it seems we didn't have a clear procedure for what to do with injured strangers washed up on our shores. We were not expecting any – not after two hundred years.” Patriarch Ryan stopped for breath and measured up what he had just said.
“If I may, Patriarch Ryan,” interjected Peter. “The Nephilim Protocol has never been retracted.” Peter paused to let this assertion settle before going on. “If indeed Omar is one of the Nephilim, he should be detained, isolated and held to account for their crimes.”
“Many things have never been retracted, Peter. But they no longer serve us well. We have, to some extent, isolated Omar. He has not yet requested to leave and if he does, we may well have to prevent him. I do not think it advisable to force the issue – certainly not until he asks to go. The fact still remains that Omar offers us the best hope of returning to the surface. He may yet share that knowledge with us.”
“So you counsel that we join them?”
“If that best serves our interests and those of the Ark then, yes, we need to consider that option.”
“If we give people a free choice, some will accept but the rest will perish. The loss of three has pushed us to the limit. It's everyone or no one as far as I can see. It's a tough choice.” This came from Chris. He knew what it took to keep the place going. His tone was matter-of-fact, devoid of any prejudice.
“A fact that should remain at the forefront of our deliberations.” Patriarch Ryan turned to Julia. “Now, Julia, you've been the main contact with Omar. What have you learned from him? Why is he here?”
Julia gulped as she became the focus of attention. “I still do not know for sure why he came. But he was very specific in coming here. He knew exactly where we were and he was able to navigate directly here. Julia felt as if she was betraying Omar but she could hardly avoid answering. “He came alone. But there are others – his family – living on the other side of the ocean. I do not believe he intends us harm.”
The meeting dragged, went round and round and all the while Julia shivered and ached. No consensus was reached other than the implementation of a check on those requesting to visit the topside: they had to obtain authorisation from their directorate. However, the measure would not be publicised – only when people turned up at the airlocks.
Julia was relieved to crawl into bed when she got back to her room. Peter's mention of the Nephilim Protocol disturbed her. She did not know what it referred to but it sounded sinister. It sounded like some kind of witch hunt. She resolved to check the details later. After five minutes of not sleeping, Julia slithered out of bed and slumped at her access console. She searched US Government documents for the Nephilim Protocol. It was a restricted document but Julia had long known how to get access to that sort of thing. Presidential Order No: 472666, the Nephilim Protocol stated that all persons related to Doctor Campbell of Eden Village Orphanage were to be detained and confined in isolation in the highest security facility. Furthermore, the use of lethal force was sanctioned on those attempting to evade capture whether or not they posed any hostile threat. The order had worldwide application regardless of the political relations with the host nation. The President had signed it eight months before the Nakba. Julia logged out and went back to bed with curiosity satisfied but her feelings raised into turmoil. Julia struggled to understand the language and implications of the Nephilim Protocol – it was all so alien to her own experience. What was clear was that Omar was a hunted man. Peter's reference to the protocol was nothing other than a threat.
Julia felt helpless with regards to Omar. She had the instinct to protect Omar but she was up against Peter who was very fixed in his opinions about how he thought the Ark should be protected. Julia doubted that he cared much for anyone on a personal level – he simply had a job to do and loved the power he exercised. What could she do? How could she stand up to Peter? There was nothing she would not attempt but nothing she thought would succeed.
Chapter 39
National Secure Archive Facility
Julia stood next to Omar. Patriarch Ryan smiled widely and stood up to welcome Omar. He held out his hand to shake Omar's and his left hand clasped over the hand shake. Omar wore gloves and a radiation protection suit.
“Welcome to the Ark, Omar. I apologise I haven't been able to welcome you before this but you were in the very capable hands of Thomas. But please, you are our guest. Please come and take a seat.” Patriarch Ryan indicated some seats round a conference table. Thomas also stood up and cautiously approached. Julia noticed that he eyed up Omar like a laboratory specimen. Patriarch Ryan continued.
“This is Thomas, our medical director. Thomas and his team look after us all. I must say you have proved quite perplexing to him and his science.” Patriarch Ryan smiled constantly and warmly.
In turn Peter and Chris entered the room and were also introduced. At last, everyone was seated and all eyes were fastened on Omar. Julia mused wryly that everyone was putting on the smiley, happy face – in stark contrast to some of the tense discussions and sinister accusations that she had heard breathed between them.
“I am Omar son of James. You would, I suppose, call me one of the Nephilim. But I am human just like yourselves...”
“Not quite like us.” Thomas could not help himself but Julia did not detect malice in his interjection.
“We are not so different. We do not call ourselves Nephilim. We are the sons and daughters of men.”
“Omar,” interjected Patriarch Ryan, “We are simply curious about you and your – should I call them – your family? We know that you have had a long and difficult – even dangerous journey to find us. Naturally, we are curious about you. We would like to know why you are here and how you managed to find us.” Omar nodded in understanding. Julia was relieved that the meeting was not leading immediately to conflict.
“These are natural questions to which I must give an answer. I would be asking no less if I were in your place. I set out from the Eastern Mediterranean where we live with the object of making contact with any remaining survivors of the Nakba. I am grateful for your hospitality and,...” Omar turned to Thomas, “...the medical treatment you have given to me. Indeed, you have preserved my life. For my part, I stand amazed at your perseverance and ingenuity in constructing the Ark and living the way that you do.”
“How were you able to find us?” It was Peter who spoke. Julia narrowed her eyes and stared at him suspiciously. He was asking his typical kind of question.
“I would rather not answer that question at this time.” Omar's refusal caused dismay that ripple round. “What I mean is this: were I to tell you, you would wish that you did not know.”
Julia saw that Peter was struggling to hold in his frustration and even anger. Patriarch Ryan again applied the diplomatic influence.
“Omar. We have endured much living here for seven generations. We must understand our situation fully in order to adapt to the challenges that face us. It is our experience that uncertainty breeds fear and suspicion. Perhaps it is better that we don't know how you were able to find us, but now that we have posed the question, the unguided speculation would undoubtedly prove more destructive than anything you could tell us.”
“Then I will tell you but reluctantly.” Omar swallowed and then began. “We found the location of the Ark marked on maps and papers in a similar facility in the foothills of the Ural Mountains – just south of what was once the town of Zlatoust. The Russian government had, like America, built a deep bunker that would protect a small but important group of select people in the event of a nuclear holocaust. From their records, just days before the Nakba, they sealed the facility with two hundred and forty-two people inside.”
“What you are saying is that the Russian intelligence service knew of the existence – and location – of the Ark?” Peter spoke slowly and deliberately.
“Yes, that is how it seems. Were yo
u not in contact with them?” Omar possibly was attempting to deflect any accusation of collusion that might be perceived by some.
“We had no specific knowledge of their existence though we suspected that they had built such a facility.”
“Well, they did build their own Ark, but it did not save them.” Omar paused to allow the implications of this statement to be reasoned. “They also used a nuclear thermal pile for power generation. So long as you have a constant source of water for cooling, it should provide stable, reliable energy for thousands of years. But there was an explosion, we believe, that sent a plume of smoke and radiation high into the atmosphere. We sent a team to investigate, to see what it was. I was one of them. When we reached the Zlatoust facility, we found very little in the way of destruction. The power plant lay completely in ruins but it was some way from the accommodation modules. It took us a day to locate the bunker by tracing the vents and power conduits but we were able to enter quite quickly. We were prepared in some way for what we found … but not for the horror of it. One by one we found bodies. Inside the building, it was very cold and they were well preserved. There was only the faintest smell of putrefaction. The people had been dead a matter of days – maybe weeks. It was ghoulish. The first corpse we found had been beheaded and badly beaten. Others nearby had been shot. Some apparently – as best we could tell – were killed trying to defend themselves. One mother was protecting her child. Others were executed: shot in the back of the head as they were kneeling. Each face captured a rigid look of terror. Something utterly dreadful happened but we can't be sure exactly what. A group of twenty or so had barricaded themselves in one section not so deep underground. They had broken into an air duct and were trying to escape to the surface. Whatever they were up against, they had chosen to breakout onto the surface. It was in the barricaded section that we found maps laid out on tables that indicated the location of … well here … the Ark. We believe they were attempting to reach your facility – though we have no idea how they would have managed it.” Omar stopped. Julia gazed round the room at a series of pallid, blank faces. Thomas' mouth hung slightly open and his lips quivered barely perceptibly. Only Peter seemed agitated and suspicious. He was clearly analysing and cross-examining the story in his head. He was the first to pose a question.
The Nephilim Protocol Page 19
