A Sacred Storm

by Dominic C. James

  “I’m not happy about it, far from it in fact. But it will all settle down once everyone gets behind Christiano. I’m sure of it.”

  “I do hope you are right. But you must forgive me for not sharing your optimism. It seems to me that nobody is listening anymore. The people of the world are too caught up in their own prejudices to heed anything that Christiano has to say. Nobody is watching television, they are all out in the streets venting their frustrations against each other. Fear and anger have swept the globe. Even here in God-loving America there are signs of discord. We have unleashed something which we cannot contain.”

  “I think you’re being far too negative, Fabio. All major changes are accompanied by hardship and heartache. The world will come out of this a much safer and stronger place. For the first time in history mankind will be unified. And they will be unified under the Church. That was our aim in the first place, and I have seen nothing so far to persuade me that it will not be attained. You knew what we were getting into when we began all this, Fabio – you knew there would be violence, and you knew there would be death – please don’t get cold feet now.”

  “I have not got ‘cold feet’ as you put it. I am merely stating the facts as they are and voicing my concerns. It helps me to assimilate the situation as a whole. And even if I did have doubts there is no turning back now.”

  “Exactly,” said Ayres. “We’ve got to see it through to the end, whatever happens.”

  Vittori finished his brandy and offered his glass to Ayres for another. His initial ire had gone and he was starting to think clearly again. He sipped at his refill thoughtfully and relaxed.

  “Have you spoken much to Christiano since the shooting?” asked Ayres.

  “Not really,” said Vittori. “He was very quiet about the whole thing. Understandable I suppose. He did seem very pleased with himself though. I think you are right that it has boosted his confidence.”

  “Yes, I’m certain it has. You could tell that immediately. The way he strode up to the microphone and held out those bullets was pure theatre. For a moment he even had me convinced he was the Son of God.”

  “Yes,” agreed Vittori. “I must admit to thinking the same thing. I just hope that he does not become uncontrollable.”

  “He won’t,” said Ayres. “We know too much about him. It’s easy enough for us to pull the plug on him whenever we want to anyway. Still, it’s probably worth having a chat to him in the morning, just to see where he’s at. In fact, we could call him in now if you want.”

  “No, I do not think so. I am too tired. I need a good night’s sleep to refresh my brain cells. And besides, I think he has done enough today, let us leave him to his own devices.”

  “Yes, but what are his own devices? Is he going to be chatting to that Zola girl online all night?”

  “I do not think so,” said Vittori. “Not tonight anyway. He seemed very keen to get to his room and study the symbols. This afternoon’s success seems to have fuelled his interest once again. I am very pleased because it saves me having to force him into it. It has been very difficult getting him to sit there and concentrate I can tell you.”

  “Surely he knows them all off by heart by now?”

  “It is not that easy, Jonathan – remember, there are over three hundred for him to remember. He obviously knows the ones he uses the most very well, but there are some that he has not had the occasion to implement yet. He needs to keep these fresh in his mind. Surely you do not want to see him fail his followers?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just worried about the knowledge. What if something happens to it while he’s studying. What if he spills something on it, or sets fire to it? What then? Perhaps we ought to make some copies just to be on the safe side.”

  “No, Jonathan, we agreed that it would not be a good idea. The papers are perfectly safe. Christiano is well aware that he has to keep a clear desk when working. And when he is finished they are sealed in the security case. The only person that needs to look at them is Christiano.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Ayres. “But however safe you think things are there’s always a situation round the corner to prove you wrong.”

  Vittori held up his hand. “This is not open for discussion, Jonathan. The committee, yourself included, agreed that the knowledge should not be made available to anyone except for the person we eventually chose. The risks of any of us having too much power outweigh the consequences of losing the symbols. You know that if we made copies the temptation to steal and use the knowledge would be great. This way we know exactly where it is at any given time.”

  “I suppose you’re probably right,” said Ayres. “I just like to have a contingency plan, that’s all.”

  Vittori glanced at the clock and swiftly finished his brandy. “I think I shall retire for the evening, my friend. It has been an extremely long day, and I am not getting any younger.” He rose from his chair and wished Ayres a goodnight.

  Ayres watched the cardinal leave, ordered room service, and went to the balcony for a cigarette. It had been a good day, but a doubt still lingered in his mind. As he looked down onto the bustling city he wondered if Vittori was right and that Christiano might indeed become uncontrollable. He began to feel uneasy about letting him have so much power.

  Chapter 77

  For Jenna the night had passed slowly, in fits of half-sleep on a rough army camp-bed. Tariq, who was in the adjacent bunk, had drifted off almost immediately, leaving her alone to wrestle with her fears. She had got up a couple of times for a cigarette and chatted to her fellow smokers, but nothing had managed to calm her enough to allow more than a ten-minute doze. The constant toing and froing of the military had not helped either. Every five minutes there seemed to be an order barked or a pair of heavy boots tramping past the foot of her bed. That, coupled with the seemingly never-ending wail of sirens, had put an end to any ideas she had of a good night’s rest.

  Tariq stirred and opened his eyes and looked across to her. “Morning,” he yawned. “What time is it?”

  “Just gone seven,” said Jenna. “How do you feel?”

  “A bit sore, but my head’s a lot better. The sleep’s definitely done me some good.”

  “Lucky you,” she muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” said Jenna. “Sorry, I’m just a bit crabby this morning. I didn’t get the best night’s sleep. It’s been a bit chaotic in here.”

  “I’ll bet it has,” said Tariq. “It’s lucky I had that morphine otherwise I don’t think I’d have got off either.”

  “Yeah. Perhaps I should have had some as well.”

  Tariq sat up and drank from a bottle of mineral water. “Where’s my dad?”

  “He’s in the tent next door with the rest of your family. I don’t think he’s had much sleep either. I bumped into him when I went for a cigarette a couple of hours ago. I don’t think he trusted people not to steal his belongings while he was asleep.”

  Tariq laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me. He sees everybody as a potential thief.”

  “I don’t think it helped that they were put next to a couple of shaven-headed white blokes,” said Jenna.

  “I’m surprised he didn’t ask to be put in a Muslim-only tent,” said Tariq.

  “I think if there was any possibility then he would have,” said Jenna. “But everyone’s had to make the best of what’s available. It’s a bit weird really, it feels like the stories my grandad told me about the Blitz. You know – everyone pulling together and all that.”

  “Everyone except my dad of course. Although he’s been speaking to you, so that’s a good sign.”

  “I don’t think he’s got much choice. But to be fair he’s certainly made an effort, just like everyone else. I think it’s dawning on people exactly how stupid this whole thing is. When you see somebody injured it doesn’t matter what race or religion they are, you still feel sympathy.”

  “I’m sure there’s some that don’t. But you’re right ab
out this place – there’s definitely a communal atmosphere. Although I don’t suppose it’s as friendly on the streets. Is there any news about what’s happening?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to ask anybody yet, they’ve all been too busy. I’m going to have a cigarette, so I’ll see if I can find a friendly soldier on the way. Do you want anything?”

  “I’d love something to eat. Something soft though, I don’t think my teeth could manage anything else.” He gave her a gap-toothed grin.

  “I’ll see what I can do. I expect they’ll have some soup or stew or something. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Jenna wandered out of the tent and across the grass to the area that had become ‘smokers’ corner’. A few people she had met overnight were there, as well as a young soldier who looked as if he had been awake for a week. She sidled up to him and asked for a light even though she didn’t need one. He obliged and she started to make small talk, eventually steering the conversation round to the outside world.

  “So then,” she said. “Any idea what’s been happening outside in the town? Or can’t you tell me?”

  “I can tell you,” he said. “I can sum it up in two words – ‘fucking nightmare’.”

  “That bad is it?”

  “Yeah, it is. It’s unreal. I’ve been out on patrol all night, and I can tell you it’s not pretty. I did a tour of Afghanistan a couple of years back and I felt safer there than I do here. There’s just gangs, gangs, and more fucking gangs – excuse my French. There’s no reason for them, they’re just out there looking for trouble. As soon as they see anyone in authority they start to attack.”

  “But surely they haven’t got guns? Not in a town like this.”

  “You’d be surprised. But it’s not their firepower it’s their numbers. And we’re under strict orders not to shoot anyone unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s all about containment at the moment. We’ve let off a few warning rounds, but it doesn’t seem to stop them. Just makes them keener to have a go. The problem is we’re spread too thin. It’s happening all over the country and we don’t have enough men to cover it. We’re getting sent out in pairs to control gangs of a hundred or more, it’s fucking ridiculous. I never thought I’d see the day where Britain came to this.”

  “I guess it’s happening all over the world,” said Jenna.

  “I think it is,” he agreed. “But I’m just saying that I never expected to be doing this here, in the country I love. What the fuck has happened to people? It’s like they’ve been infected with anger.”

  “Religion happened,” said Jenna. “But that was just a catalyst I guess. It’s not all about that any more. It’s about everything – race, poverty, jealousy, fear – this country’s been simmering with rage for years. And now the dam’s burst it’s all come flooding out. The forgotten people have suddenly found a purpose.”

  The soldier shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that, but I do know that it’s fucking scary. The fact that it’s your own people makes it worse. It’s difficult having to turn on the guys you’ve spent years defending.”

  Jenna finished her cigarette and asked the soldier if there was any food available. He pointed her towards a tent on the other side of the one she had slept in. She wished him good luck and went to find something for herself and Tariq to eat.

  Chapter 78

  Stratton woke in a sweat. He could feel the fever running through his body. He leapt from the bed and threw himself into the bathroom, just making it to the toilet bowl before he began throwing up. He knelt there for a good five minutes, convulsing hard with his eyes watering, until he finally felt the last drops leave his stomach. After flushing away the vomit and rinsing out his mouth, he went back and sat against the bed with his head bowed. He remained static until Stella appeared over half an hour later.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, walking into the room and finding him half-naked and bent double.

  “Not really,” he said, glancing up. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

  “You look awful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you need a hand getting up?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.” He pulled himself up and sat on the bed and grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the cabinet. “You’re up a bit early aren’t you?” he said.

  “Not really,” said Stella. “It’s about 8am GMT. I’d say you were up a bit late.”

  “I suppose so. I’ve lost all track of time to be honest.” He opened the bottle and took some water on board.

  Stella sat down at the desk. “I take it you haven’t watched any news reports this morning then?”

  Stratton shook his head. “No, but the way I’m feeling it’s obviously not good.”

  “You’re right there. Europe’s turned into a battle zone and the Middle East is waging a holy war on America and the West.”

  “What’s happening back home? Have they got that under control yet?”

  “No, it’s getting worse. The whole of the UK’s under martial law.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me,” said Stratton. “It was only a matter of time before everything exploded.”

  “It’s ridiculous,” said Stella. “Why can’t people see what’s happening, and where it’s all headed? Why can’t they just say ‘enough’s enough’.”

  “Because it’s not that easy now. They’re right in the middle of it all. Violence and hatred are like a chain reaction. It’s easy enough for us here on board the submarine, we’re not being constantly exposed to it. We can sit here and look at everything dispassionately. Out there on the streets it’s all about survival – and people will do almost anything to survive. Their lives are being threatened and the only way to deal with that for the majority of people is to fight back. It’s just human instinct. I’m not sure if there is any way back now.”

  “So we just give up?! Is that it?”

  “No, we don’t give up,” he said. “We never give up.” He put down his water and lay on the bed and closed his eyes. “I’m just tired. Very, very tired.”

  He drifted off and said no more.

  Chapter 79

  Ayres woke refreshed. He ordered his breakfast and showered and then phoned his wife to see how she and the children were holding up. He knew that it must be a strain for them without him around, but he knew that his wife at least understood the importance of what he was doing, even though she had no idea of the whole story. He allayed her fears about the state of the country and assured her that everything was under control. Then, after a brief but happy talk with his kids, he hung up and started to plan the day ahead.

  Breakfast arrived at 8am sharp and consisted of pancakes and bacon and eggs. He ate with a good appetite and then settled down with a cup of strong black coffee. Two minutes later Vittori came to join him.

  “Good morning, Fabio. I hope you feel suitably revitalized.”

  “I do not feel too bad, but I am still trying to adjust to the time.”

  “Sit down,” said Ayres. “I’ll pour you a coffee. Will you want some brandy in it? Or is it too early?”

  “It is never too early,” said Vittori. “And besides, I am still on Italian time.”

  Ayres made Vittori’s drink and set it down on the table in front of him. “Have you spoken to Christiano this morning?” he asked.

  “I have, but only briefly. I have asked him to come and see us as soon as he has breakfasted.”

  “Good,” said Ayres. “How was he? Did he seem any different?”

  Vittori paused for a moment. “Perhaps a little. But it is difficult to tell with him, as he has changed so much already. He makes great leaps every day.”

  Ayres nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, he does.”

  Twenty minutes later Christiano arrived at Ayres’ suite. He looked fresh and ready and certainly none the worse for his ordeal. In fact, Ayres thought, he appeared more relaxed and confident than ever. He waved away Ayres’ offer of a coffee and instead took a bottle of mineral water. He sat down at the table
opposite his two mentors.

  “You look very well this morning,” said Ayres. “You must have had a good sleep.”

  “Yes, I did,” said Christiano vaguely, staring out of the window.

  “I thought you might have been a little shaken by yesterday’s unpleasantness.”

  “Not really. I expected something to happen at some point.”

  “Maybe,” said Ayres. “But I feel awful after all the promises I made to you about how good the security was.”

  “If someone is determined enough they can get in anywhere,” said Christiano. “And anyway, it does not matter now. Security is no longer a relevant issue – I cannot be harmed.”

  “All the same,” said Ayres. “I don’t think it would be wise to invite people to have a shot at you.”

  Christiano shrugged nonchalantly and sipped his water. “So,” he said. “What can I do for you this morning? Why did you want to see me?”

  “We just wanted to check that you were alright really,” said Ayres. “The cardinal and I were worried that it might have been all a bit much for you to take in, but I can see that we had no cause for concern. We also wanted to go through your speech for this afternoon in Washington.”

  “I am not sure if I wish to go to Washington today.”

  “But you have to,” said Ayres. “The President is expecting you. The whole country is expecting you.”

  “Maybe they are, but I am sure they can wait.”

  Ayres glanced at Vittori for help.

  “Come, Christiano,” said the cardinal. “This is all arranged. You cannot let the people down. They might begin to lose faith in you.”

  “They will not lose faith in me, not after what they witnessed yesterday.”

  “But your itinerary is set,” pleaded Vittori. “The world is in enough confusion already. The people need some sort of consistency in their lives. They need to know that in all this turmoil their Messiah can be relied upon. Please, Christiano, do not let them down.”