by S. T. Boston
It had been a glorious sunny day when the two boys had left. In all they'd spent two Earth weeks on Arkkadia, she'd hugged him and planted a kiss on his lips before they parted, unable to hide the tears that welled up in her ancient blue eyes as the door to the scout craft slid silently closed. They had kept eye contact as long as possible but eventually all she was left looking at was a gleaming ship's hull. Then as silently as the door had shut the craft rose into the air, at approximately a thousand feet it had hung for a few long, drawn out seconds, Oriyanna straining her eyes as the sun glinted off the bright silver craft. Then in an instant it shot up, far faster than her eyes could track. He was gone.
Three Arkkadian days later she was saying goodbye to her home once again, bound for Sheol. The fight had already begun, craft were on their way within hours of her coming through The Tabut, keen to strike hard and fast, leaving little chance of anyone escaping the miserable place. By the time she arrived the battle was almost done, a few strongholds set deep into the planet's ninth level were proving difficult to take. Intelligence from the surface was grim, whilst many of the Elders had been captured and flown back to Arkkadia to face trial and probable execution they believed the one they most wanted was gone, cowardly fleeing the planet before even the first strike vessels had arrived in orbit. A day or so later she herself had been on the Sheolian surface, then taken deep into the bowels of the former mining outpost. Arkkadian troops had finally broken through and captured the last subterranean territory. Once every person had been accounted for they were still two Elders short, that they knew of, more who had been created in the years since the Great War could have also fled. Also among the missing was Asmodeous, just as they feared. It didn't surprise her or the council, he'd fled Earth just as quickly when his cities had begun to fall. He obviously valued his own self-preservation above that of his misguided followers. What also struck her was the craft he'd used, Arkus 2 was a long range exploration vessel, and it had been under his command before the Great War. The ship was vast and could easily have offered passage to a large number of people, but he'd fled with just a handful, proof positive of his selfish and narcissistic nature.
As soon as Sheol was well and truly back under the command of the Arkkadian Council, Oriyanna had been called back. It had been a relief to leave the sun baked planet. Sitting around two million miles closer to its large sun than Arkkadia did to hers, Sheol was a sweltering place. Despite the terraforming that had been carried out thousands of years before, the atmosphere was hot and carried the faintest eggy hint of sulphur. Below the surface things were not much better, the purified air was still nasty, almost suffocating to breath.
Fruitlessly they had scanned the vastness of space, looking for the smallest trace of the vessel that he'd taken. It was almost a pointless task, for even if they'd been a few hundred miles from it the Arkus 2 it would be nearly impossible to detect. Plans that had been found on the planet's surface suggested that any identifiable transponders aboard the ship had been disabled and replaced with jammers that would make it virtually impossible to find, even with their advanced radar and scanning systems. This however did not stop them from trying. As the weeks ticked by it looked increasingly like their most wanted prize had slipped through their fingers once again. Soon after Oriyanna approached the council, suggesting that he might look to take refuge in the one place that he longed for the most, Earth. Oriyanna had requested that she be sent back to the planet with a small team, a team that could fly under the radar and look for signs that he had indeed returned to Earth. The council had been reluctant to let her go, fearing her feelings for Adam would get in the way of more important tasks, however in the end her argument about being the only Arkkadian to have spent valuable time on Earth's surface during the modern age was taken into account and her plight was a success. Even those who'd been in place before the four Watchers that Finch had killed held little knowledge of modern living. Sadly, now the ones who would have been best placed to carry out such a mission were just names on a memorial plaque in the council's chamber, the only Watchers ever to have been killed in the line of duty.
Soon after, Oriyanna and three other Elders and former Watchers from the council found themselves Earth bound, with explicit instructions given directly to her not to contact Adam or try to see him. There was a job to do, with no clue as to how many Earth-Breeds still languished on the planet they were given two tasks. Firstly to establish if Asmodeous was indeed on Earth, secondly to find a way to track and kill as many of the enemy Earth-Breed as possible.
On their arrival they had set up what Earth's security services would have classed as an intelligence cell. As Earth began to find its pulse once again they gleaned through the accounts of Integra Investments, identifying just who was on the payroll. Information on the Earth based business had been recovered along with a wealth of other information held on Sheol. Not coincidentally, she found herself based in London, in the borough of Greenwich, just a few temptingly close miles away from Adam's family home. Although she hated herself for it, it had been her idea to use Sam as the tool to dispose of the Earth-Breeds they uncovered. None of her team had spent any valuable modern time on the planet, what little time she'd spent on Earth hardly gave her enough experience to fit in to modern living, it would be an almost impossible task to blend in, and if things went wrong they couldn't risk the exposure. Sam had, after all, proven himself to be more than handy in such situations and now in possession of The Gift his chances of suffering a fatal wound were even less. She felt wracked with guilt on the day they'd delivered the first target's details to him. From a short distance away they had monitored the house, then, just as she knew he would, Sam went to work. The recompense for such a risky and nasty job had been the large sums of money that she'd had deposited as payment for every kill pack, gleaned from the wealth built up by the Watchers over the long years they'd been present on Earth. She didn't like what they were making him do, and the only thing she could do to help and to quash some of the guilt she felt was to ensure the three of them, Sam, Adam and his sister, Lucie, lived through these testing times as comfortable as possible.
Over the next few months, with the aid of the financial packages, she watched Lucie open her small bar, with the assistance of the local government 'New Business' scheme. A small, band aid style attempt to restore some normality to things and get life back on an even keel. A few times she had seen Adam but always and painfully from afar, despite her longing to speak to him she respected her orders and concentrated on the task in hand. Then in the last six months her cell began to pick up intelligence that confirmed their worst fears. Several Earth-Breeds they were tracking began to head to South America, all taking various routes to the large continent, but it was a trend that reeked of something far more sinister. There were a wealth of ancient cities that had been under Arkkadian supervision in that area during the old days, the days when they'd first returned to Earth. However, there was only a handful of places that fell under Asmodeous' rule. Patiently they had waited, wanting to gain the most information possible before putting anything into action, a plan that had fallen short during the last few hours, now with five minutes to catch her breath, Oriyanna took painful stock of what had happened at their London base not an hour ago, and marvelled at how easily things could go wrong.
* * *
The house in Greenwich that had been Oriyanna's home for almost two years was a modest-sized four bedroom property. One of a number of places owned by Euri Peterson, whilst he'd been alive and operating as a Watcher. The London residence had been vacant for the past thirty months. Luckily it had managed to stay squatter free and, apart from a little dusting and airing, the place was in good form. More than comfortable enough to house the small team that consisted of Oriyanna and three former male Watchers who'd lived on Earth during the early years of the industrial revolution and through to the mid twentieth century. Rhesbon, a sturdy-looking man of broad build with short cropped blonde hair. Bliegh, the polar opposite to
Rhesbon in the fact that he was small and slight, the kind of person you'd pass in the street and then forget within a few seconds, and Taulass, who had the appearance of a young dark haired professional, despite his true age being close to five hundred Earth years. Put together at a dinner table the small quartet of Arkkadians would have looked a little odd, and not the kind of people you'd have expected to see socialising together, however individually there was nothing exceptionally memorable about any of them, apart from Oriyanna who'd caught more than a few Earth-Human males glancing her way whilst out in public. Although all three were way out of touch with modern day society they were still far better placed to blend in than anyone else on the council. Oriyanna had struggled to get the mission sanctioned in the first place, then securing her position on the team had been another issue. Each of her team had a specialism, Taulass was very tech-savvy, despite being absent from Earth for almost a hundred years he had kept himself appraise of man's developments, studying information fed back to him by those who'd followed in his footsteps. Rhesbon and Bleigh, whilst earning their spot on the team due to their previous service, were there as much for their fighting ability and physical presence as anything else. Although Bleigh was slight, and unassuming he was fast and during his time on Earth had studied many martial arts. It was Oriyanna's place to oversee the team, as one of the oldest Elders on the council she had lived for longer than all three of her team mates put together.
Glancing away from the screen of the Apple Mac, which was carrying out an algorithmic style name and account number search of people they'd found to be on Integra Investments' payroll against airline bookings and passenger lists, Oriyanna watched the TV broadcast with a troubled expression on her face. US President Hill was addressing a crowd of eager faced reporters from the press room in the White House, they looked like a hungry pack of hounds who'd just been shown the fox. Oriyanna studied his face, he looked as if he'd not slept in days, she was sure that his normally dark hair had taken on some fresh grey. Usually a handsome man his tired face seemed to be sporting a few extra deep lines across the forehead, they made him look much older than his fifty or so years. His hands were tightly clutching the side of a lectern that sported the White House logo, taking his eyes away from the lights that were fixing him to the stage he glanced down at whatever speech had been prepared for him by his people, swallowed hard and began to talk.
“Yesterday, the British Prime Minister and other European heads of states, as well as myself, were in talks with President Balashov, looking to resolve the stranglehold that Russia is placing on oil supplies to the West. As Industrial and domestic life is gradually being restored to normal, it is important for us to secure our future and unfortunately that future means we need to secure a certain quota of oil and fossil fuel supply, something we have been unable to do. As you know, the original goal to be rid of vehicular fossil fuel dependency inside ten years suffered a setback after the solar flares and virus that took so many of our friends, loved ones and colleagues.” President Hill paused for a moment as a mark of respect. Oriyanna watched him, transfixed, a worried expression across her face. “As you know,” continued President Hill, “Russian reserves that are now being mined in Eastern Siberia, as well as the ones they control in the Arctic region, represent around seventy percent of the remaining reserves, so you will appreciate just how important it is for us to strike a deal with President Balashov. Unfortunately, it would seem there is no deal to be had.” The camera panned around the room, a female reporter in the third row had her hand in the air, the camera angle changed to take in both President Hill and the waiting journalist. “Yes, Sally,” said the president, pointing toward her, she was obviously a White House press room regular.
“Are you looking at military options, sir,” she asked in a heavy southern accent.
“Today, Russian naval forces were activated in the Baring Sea, it would appear they are heading south, toward the Pacific. It is not yet clear what their objective is, however, as you already know, we have mobilised our Pacific fleet to counter any threat.” His face took on an even graver expression. “I suspect Russia is pre-empting some kind of action by us for their decision. Whilst we do need to find an answer to this situation, I want to assure the American people as well as the people of the world that I have absolutely no intention of going down that route. We, as a race have suffered enough over the last two and a half years.”
“If that is the case, Mr. President,” came a voice from the back, the camera swung round quickly, searching for the heckler, “then why are you proceeding to bring our nuclear defence systems and strike capability back online inside the next forty eight hours?” The camera found the owner of the voice. A guy in a cheap looking suit stood at the back of the room, he had a small digital recording device clutched in his hand and thrust eagerly forward, getting it as close to the scrutinised president as possible.
“These are uncertain times, we need to be in a position to defend this nation if necessary. As you well know, North Korea and China are on the brink of coming back online. Our sources indicate that Russia will have their systems back in the next twenty four to forty eight hours. If I hadn't followed suit we'd have been left defenceless. Within that naval fleet currently steaming toward the Pacific there are three K Class cruiser subs and one B class submarine, all four will have nuclear launch capabilities when their systems go online.” There was no retort from the floor, just a pensive and frightened silence. Oriyanna wondered how John Remey would have handled this situation. She admired President Hill for his brutal honesty. The fact that President Hill or President Balashov would have their fingers on the trigger in the next forty eight hours didn't trouble her too much. Nor was she overly concerned about China or North Korea. Earth-Human's had been capable of wiping themselves off the face of the planet in a hail of nuclear fire for many years, and despite some very tense and close calls, they hadn't done it.
“Another match?” asked Rhesbon, as he walked into the room carrying a bottle of water. Oriyanna studied the screen intently.
“It is, but I suspect we won't need to worry too much about this one.” She pointed at the screen as Rhesbon crouched beside her.
“Mathis Laurett,” he said with interest. “I'm guessing he won't be making the flight.
“No, but this indicates us further toward the fact that he is somewhere in South America, I'm concerned that they are going to use this current oil situation to their advantage.” She added in a worried voice. “I told the council we needed more resources than we have here.”
“We still don't know for sure.”
“No, we don't,” replied Oriyanna. “But we have been here for almost two years and for the majority of that we have been left scratching around in the dirt. Over the last six months we have seen a number of suspected Earth-Breed, who were getting hefty pay-outs from Integra when they had no real link to the company, migrating to South America. We don't know too much about many of them, but one of the first we tracked, Benjamin Hawker, he used to work in defence systems for the US Government, this guy worries me. Now Laurett was planning to fly the nest, too.” She pointed at the screen and thought of Sam, who would, as they spoke, be heading to execute Laurett. She switched screens, bringing up a map of Southern England and Northern France, a small red dot sat half a mile off the French coast. It represented the modest sized cabin cruiser that they'd chartered for him to cross the channel. Prior to Sam arriving to collect it, Taulass had fitted a small GPS tracker to the vessel. She hoped that the red dot would be on the move again soon, heading back toward Portsmouth. “It has to be him,” she insisted. “Why else would they all be heading that way?”
“I don't know,” Rhesbon answered in earnest, as the door burst open. Bliegh, another of the small team rushed in, his usually pale complication flushed with panic.
“We need to move, now!” he prompted, rushing to the screen Oriyanna was using. “They know where we are.” He glanced at their confused faces, pushed Oriyanna asid
e and sat down at the terminal.
“Okay, explain,” she said trying to sound calm.
“We have been running this program for the past eighteen months,” Bliegh began, pointing at the screen. “Taulass upgraded it to search for travel patterns of those on our radar, so we could see who was travelling where and possibly associating with who.”
“That's right,” cut in Oriyanna, “Without it we'd have never identified the travel pattern we have been seeing of late.”
“I have been helping him to develop a program to help hide our activities, however it would seem that there is someone out there on the net using a seeker style program.” He glanced at them both, looking from one confused face to the next. “Basically there is a program on the net searching for a program that's running our kind of searches. As in, persons financially linked to Integra Investments and those that continued to be paid by their accounts, years after the business officially ceased trading. I'm guessing that after Sam took out a few of their own they got twitchy and started looking for ways to uncover where the information was coming from. It must be a new program as we have alerts built in to the system to detect this kind of information seeking.”
“When did you find out?” quizzed Oriyanna, flicking the screen back to the red dot, that still frustratingly flashed half a mile off the French coast.
“I wasn't sure until just now,” Bliegh defended, his face locked in a scowl. “The lines of code are very subtle, once I smelt a rat it took me some time to figure out just what it was, whoever wrote the program is good, they almost got around our counter measures. It could have been pinging us for a few hours, maybe longer, I just –“
