by James Flynn
Vittorio nodded. “We gave you what you craved … acceptance. Please don’t be disappointed by that. I fully understand the need to be accepted, to work out why you are shunned, repressed for no reason other than what blood courses through your veins.” His face contorted with anger.
“You wanted me here so you could capture me …”
“I don’t like the word capture. My brother wanted to simply kill you but I convinced him you deserved to be able to see what we have here, the moment that will change human history. You and I could have been brother and sister in the fight, Miss Chung, but life decreed that was not to be. You will have your moment in history … it will be your finest, and your last.”
Chung Su closed her eyes. At the end of everything there is nothing left to fear, and it slowly dawned on her that she would not be leaving the laboratory alive.
“But why all of this?” Chung Su asked.
“All of what?”
“The secrets, the lies …” Chung Su felt the leg ties dig into her skin as she tried to move.
“Because we must live in shadow until the light is ready to shine.”
Chung Su had had enough of the rhetoric. “Answer me, Professor, why the hell go through all of this? You had everything …”
“Did I? I had nothing; I watched as the West bled my country dry, I watched as they sucked everything away from us, killing who they wanted, destroying what they wanted. Did they give anything back? No! Every major scientific breakthrough, vaccines, energy resources, they packaged and sold …” He was pacing around the room. “They are even destroying themselves. They destroy the world for all of us; they invade our lands, churn our crops and blacken our skies … all for their own gain. They have shamed us for centuries! Well, no more. I have given my life to see them humbled and I have built my temple with which to strike. I spent years making my way up an organization I despised, an organization my father despised, all the time being someone else, hiding from the world. Now Allah has given us the power with which to strike back! Allahu Akbar!”
“God does not have a place in science … this is your evil, none of this is a higher power!” Chung Su grimaced at the thought.
Vittorio quoted as if reading from an almighty text, “Anybody who has been seriously engaged in scientific work of any kind realises that over the entrance to the gates to the temple of science are written the words ‘Ye must have faith’.”
“Max Planck,” Chung Su answered drily.
“Very good, Miss Chung,” Vittorio smiled. “A most brilliant man. He was wise enough to see that faith drives everything.” Vittorio’s face softened and he peered deep into her eyes. “Can you not see?’’
“But men will fight you for what you have created … whatever it is that you have done, Professor, look at the pain it has already caused.” Chung Su was weakening.
“Pain? What about our pain, yours and mine, Miss Chung. Tell me you do not feel it, that same pain and pride?” Vittorio asked.
Chung Su shook her head.
“Come on, you feel it, right in here,” he jabbed a finger at her heart. “You feel the burn. You let yourself be used, let yourself be poked and prodded. You were not so stupid … you wanted it.”
“No!” The force of Chung Su’s scream checked Vittorio and he straightened. “No!” she screamed again. Everything was overflowing, the shame, the hurt, the fear. Her life now seemed like an empty vessel that someone else had filled up.
Vittorio’s lips creased at the sides. “There is that fire! I have so much to show you, and I know you cannot resist the urge to discover the true how. For so many years I have hidden who I am, but tonight that is no longer a burden I must carry.”
Vittorio turned and walked over to the television screen. He pressed a button and it whined into life. It showed no picture, only a digitised clock at the top left-hand corner of the screen. It flashed 6 p.m.
Vittorio went to say something but stopped himself; he gave the familiar smile. “You were not alone in Teramo … and for that I am sorry, because it means I have ordered my brother to speak to you after we are done.”
Chung Su kept stoic.
Vittorio barked some orders in Arabic and the door swung open. One of the men who had brought her in bent down and cut away her ankle ties; the skin throbbed.
“I trust you will be no trouble?” Vittorio asked and offered her his arm to aid her in standing up. She refused and gingerly stood. Vittorio started out of the room. “Follow me.” She hobbled after him, walking back out into the tunnel.
They came to a solid steel door. Vittorio typed some numbers and the door slid open; he gestured for her to step inside.
Decontamination Unit.
“There is no need to shower in front of me, Miss Chung, but please spray your clothes and put a suit on.” Vittorio gestured to a dark blue protective suit hanging up on a peg, along with plastic goggles and a red hard hat.
Chung Su grabbed the jet nozzle of the canister of CBRN decontaminant and sprayed. Vittorio did the same on his side of the room; they then both suited up. Chung Su felt an acute sadness at the familiar procedure.
Vittorio pulled out a piece of cloth. “Please, Miss Chung, indulge me.” He gestured that it was to go over her goggles. Chung Su was reluctant.
“I promise you it is merely for dramatic purposes. It is not to cause you any harm.”
Chung Su sighed.
“Come on, we must be quick.” Vittorio raised the cloth, not giving her any choice. She closed her eyes and let Vittorio press the cloth against her goggles, tightening it around the back of her head. The world was black once more.
“Please take my arm.”
Chung Su felt for his arm, taking hold. She heard the door slide open and a wave of noise rush in.
87.
The heat and exertion was causing sweat to drip down Luke’s back and face. The dry-bag was tucked against his side as there was not enough space to keep it on his back. Gripped in his right hand was the S Frame. He had the torch beam on and the small circle of light was his only illumination.
The initial abseil had indeed allowed him to reach the first metallic level; he had left the rope hanging, which wasn’t ideal as it was a concern that other posted guards would notice the ventilation hatch and the rope leading down, but he had no choice. The problem he was then faced with was there was only one direction the shaft led, and that was horizontal.
He had been edging along at a snail’s pace, and he was thankful that he had never suffered from claustrophobia because there appeared to be no end to the shaft. He stopped to wipe the sweat away from his eyes. There was a genuine worry that the shaft was not going to lead anywhere. Perhaps it would only lead to a smaller shaft that dropped further down into the abyss, and if that were the case he would be stuck.
You have made a mistake, Luke.
The voice was a niggling doubt that wouldn’t leave him. Lying there, he turned the torch to his newly acquired watch: 6.07 p.m.
Less than an hour, Luke, and you are stuck in a ventilation shaft.
He gritted his teeth in frustration. The doubt was refocused into energy, and he resumed his crawl with a renewed vigor. His arms and legs pumped as hard as they could in the space, the torch light bounced up and down and the sweat continued its downpour.
In the darkness, his mind recalled the warm summer training camps that were set up in the heart of the Silkeborgskovene forest region in Denmark, designed to harden Group 9 operatives to the elements, leaving them to fend for themselves for days on end, then culminating in a gruelling eight-hour assault course. Part of the assault course was traversing a warren den of underground tunnels. You would enter at one point and then would not emerge again for at least another two hours. It was purely designed to prey on any dormant claustrophobic fears. Luke had seen grown men reduced to tears as they feared they would never again see the sun. It was this test that now replayed in Luke’s mind; the key was always to control breathing and keep all thoughts logical.
A
nother fifty metres down the tunnel the torch light picked up a solid surface blocking his progress, it was a wall. Shit! As he approached the wall he felt a sinking feeling in his gut, he had hit a dead end. He could feel the despair rising, but he fought it and powered towards the wall. Then as he scrambled the torch light flickered across something that seemed out of place running along the smooth left-hand side of the tunnel.
Luke, you idiot …
The wall was a dead end, but because of the darkness he had not seen that the tunnel in fact turned at a right angle to his left, starting down a new path. He turned onto his side and shone the torch beam down the new shaft. It was identical to the one he had just crawled through, apart from one detail. The light picked up a slatted grill about twenty metres down. Pulling himself around the corner, Luke picked up his crawl, pushing hard towards the grill.
As he reached it, he again wiped the sweat from his eyes. It led into a pitch black space. He could just get the S Frame through one of the gaps in the grill and he flashed the beam to cover the space. The grill dropped down into a square area, which was much larger than the tunnel. He swung the torch to cover the room in as much light as possible. Directly opposite him there was another grill, and behind it he could see an array of wires and large metal blades rigidly formed into metal soldiers. It was difficult to make out detail due to his angle but as he turned his wrist and held the torch steady he could see that in the middle of the floor was a hole, a black square, and in the dull light something caught his eye that made him smile … steps. They were ladder-like, leading straight down into the darkness, but it gave Luke a surge of hope. He assumed that perhaps upon construction they would need access points in case there were issues with the ventilation system. In a structure as large as he believed the laboratory would be, the cooling and ventilation system would have to be in sections and not necessarily interconnected. That way you could be economic with running it.
Luke made a futile attempt to turn his body round so he could use his legs to kick through the grate, but there was not enough space. Unable to use his legs, Luke raised himself up on his elbows, his neck bending to accommodate his head against the celling; he then punched out his hands with all of his might against the grill. It cut into his gloves and the blow echoed into the room below, but it didn’t shift. Luke took a deep breath and raised himself up. He then shot both his hands out again, the grill rattled, and Luke was sure he felt a slight bend. Luke struck again, and again, and again, the sweat pouring down his face. His breathing became heavy, but he did not stop. Then with a final blow the grill broke off on its right-hand side and swung down from a single screw. The metal on metal crash echoed around the room.
Luke stayed still for a little time, listening to see whether the noise had caused any alarm. He still felt he was high above the laboratory, and doubted they had the manpower to cover all areas of the tunnel system. The floor was about three metres below, and he had to slither out of the gap headfirst. He took the bag from his side and dropped it down onto the floor, next he stretched out his arms and used his gloves to palm down the wall, headfirst. Luke tucked his head up to his chest and rolled over as his hands took the brunt of the impact and his legs came behind. Standing, Luke held up the S Frame and walked over to examine the wires and metallic blades. The beam didn’t reveal much, but it looked as though the blades would create some sort of filter for the air and expelled gases; they were not functioning, but Luke was wary that the system may be on a timer and should it turn on the room would turn into a tornado. Moving over to the centre space, he dropped to his knees and thrust the torch down below.
There must be a lighting system if there is a ladder …
Luke pressed his glove against the walls around the ladder, and he felt tiny bumps at an even spacing. Bringing the torch to bear on the wall he caught a blue reflection off the tiny LED lights. Luke felt a surge of adrenaline; the ladder must lead to the laboratory. If people could get up to the room, then he could get down. Without hesitation, he scooped up the bag, threw it across his torso and started down the ladder. He was getting closer.
***
Beltrano rolled his neck as he strolled along one of the many long tunnels. His muscles were aching; he knew it was the tension leaving his body. He could feel the weight off his shoulders; my job has been carried out to its fullest. The joy of that thought gave him bounce in his step. Allah has given me strength and courage; it is His will that has allowed us to achieve this. He was more pious than his older brother and much more prepared to use a strong arm to enforce his view of the world. He believed his elder brother’s intellect had always held him back from giving himself fully to Allah, but he knew his brother believed; he had taken his own path to bring illumination to the world. Two brothers working in perfect harmony.
He shook his head at the brilliance of what his brother had constructed. Conceiving a theory is in some ways the easy part; to then lay out a way of achieving it was the real genius. The whole underground structure had been built with to team’s detailed specifications; it had all been bankrolled by CERN, and the whole project had been kept incredibly well hidden, a secret within a secret. Beltrano smiled at the deception they had all employed. No one ever suspected what was truly happening. And it had been Beltrano’s job to protect the whole global deceit. That is why he had started his long road up through the Carabinieri ranks. The same European blood that reminded him of his hatred of the West also allowed both him and his brother to advance unmolested as sleepers.
His welllaid plans had been disrupted slightly in the past week, and his face twisted at the thought of Robert Reid. He had told his brother it was a risk to bring Chung Su over to Teramo, but Vittorio had been insistent; he felt they were fighting for the same cause. Beltrano was now glad he had convinced his brother that once she had witnessed the miracle she would need to die, no loose ends.
In the distance, rapid footsteps echoed around the concrete structure. Beltrano turned to face them. Someone was running at quite a pace, then out of the horizon appeared one of his guards
“Sir, Sir ...” the man halted before Beltrano, a little nervous.
“Well come on, talk,” Beltrano spat. He sensed something was wrong.
“Sir, we have not been able to reach Outpost Four …”
“When was the last time you heard from them?”
“They checked in as normal at 3 p.m. but since then … nothing.” The soldier was nervous to deliver the news to Beltrano.
“And we have tried to contact them?”
“Yes Sir … still nothing.”
Beltrano looked away. He had constructed outposts all over the perimeter of the laboratory on the surface, and CERN had allowed it under the pretense of protecting the public from themselves. In reality, they housed Iranian brothers-in-arms. He felt uneasy; he would have sent someone up to check on them. The chances were they had forgotten, or got lazy. But it didn’t feel right so close to the time of the experiment … I don’t like it. His instinct bristled.
“Follow me,” he barked at the soldier. He then strode down the hallway, heading for the security command centre to check for himself.
88.
It was immediately apparent to Chung Su that she had been led into a much larger space; there was a cacophony of noise, talking and shouts mixed with humming machinery and beeping components, all played out within the echoing acoustics.
The noise was attacking her senses; she could not understand the language being spoken, and it was coming from above, below and all around; it was disorientating. Underfoot she heard the clanging of metal. It sounded as though she were walking along a gantry. Vittorio barked a couple of sentences, then he pressed her arm to indicate for her to stop.
“Miss Chung, you are now about to witness the tool of mankind’s revolution.”
With that, Vittorio whipped off the blindfold, and Chung Su’s eyes were awash with a thousand visuals. She was overlooking a vast industrial land laid out below. The workmen wer
e swathed in the same dark blue protective suits and red hats that she and Vittorio wore.
Then her eyes came to rest on a giant black abyss that dominated the floor three storeys below; it was a giant hole, the depths of which seemed endless. An array of white lines converged on the black mass and Chung Su looked down with awe. The whole time, Vittorio’s gaze burned into her; he wanted to see her reaction, to revel in the moment. Stood there, looking down on the buzz her memory reeled back to the blueprint Luke had found at Vittorio’s flat. She tried to recall the details. Her eyes scanned the room and she could see that parts of the blueprint matched what she saw before her. Two giant steel tubes hovered above the black abyss reaching up into the roof some distance above them. Magnets …
“You are measuring the neutrinos?” Chung Su felt the scientist in her awaken; faced with the scale of the room she was compelled to understand how.
Vittorio wore a smile. Many masters create only one masterpiece in their life … I have created two.
“Is that the detonation site?” Chung Su asked.
The question caught Vittorio off-guard, it was evident he had not known the extent of Chung Su’s knowledge of the experiment. He recovered quickly. “Follow me, Miss Chung.” He walked along the gantry and she followed. Below to her right Chung Su saw a work station where two technicians were busy pressing buttons. Vittorio caught her gazing. “The magnet control platform,” he said with a smile.
Vittorio stopped at a fork in the gantry; he took the left walkway and led Chung Su to a solid door. As it shut behind them all noise from the chamber was blocked out, and silence descended.
“Welcome, Miss Chung,” Vittorio said in a grandiose manner. He removed his hat and glasses and Chung Su did likewise. They were stood in an average-sized room. However, the size was the only thing that was average about the space. Directly opposite them stood a wall-sized oscilloscope. The screen was two feet high and four feet wide. The control dials were not placed next to the screen as is the case on basic, smaller scopes, but instead a large working panel stretched from the front of the machine and several dials were accessible at waist height for its operators. It was something Chung Su knew well. The oscilloscope measured the double-pulse signature of a neutrino interaction with an element.
