2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light)

by Robert Storey

  ‘It can, and it is.’ Kara came to him and held his hands in hers. ‘Calm down and think. None of this makes sense. The Anakim are far older than the biblical tales. You know this. They aren’t related in any way. If you look for something long enough, if you want it badly enough, you’ll find it. You’ve altered the answers to fit the question. Science is littered with people who searched for something and lo and behold they found it, justifying their miraculous findings with facts that couldn’t be verified one way or the other. It’s like the Higgs boson; they pumped billions of dollars into Cern’s Large Hadron Collider and surprise, surprise, they found what they were looking for, the so-called God particle. Who could verify it was as they said it was? No one, as no one knows what it really is – something that exists for a fraction of a second and which the scientists themselves admit cannot be given a hundred per cent guarantee of being the theorised particle at all. Just because people say it’s true doesn’t mean it is. What would you do if you had a set of results that cost billions to achieve? Would you go, “Sorry, folks, we’ve wasted your time and money,” or would you do everything in your power to make it fit, to get the answer that validated your career, your life, your very existence?’

  Goodwin frowned. ‘Coming from a scientist that seems like a funny way of looking at things. You think we shouldn’t even bother with trying to advance ourselves?’

  ‘No, not at all. What I’m saying is, belief is a powerful thing. It can create as well as destroy. It can also blind those behind it to the starkness of reality. Add a powerful motivator to the mix, like money, or a way out of Sanctuary—’

  He held up the photos. ‘This is not fiction. It’s real. The map of the lake is real. The constellation symbols that match up – are real. You just refuse to believe it because you lack faith.’

  Her face blanched. ‘What?! Unlike your precious Rebecca?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant, but now that you put it that way, yes. At least Rebecca trusts my judgement and respects what I have to say.’

  Kara slapped him round the face.

  Shocked, Goodwin gaped at her in hurt confusion.

  ‘Get out!’ Kara thrust a finger at the tent’s entrance.

  Goodwin bent down and collected his photos from the floor.

  ‘I said, get out!’ Kara hurled a shoe at his head.

  Goodwin made a hasty retreat and ducked out into the darkness, his bridges burnt and sanity questioned.

  ♦

  Kara stood in her tent, her breathing shallow and hands clenched. She let out a shriek of fury and kicked out at the bed, sending its frame skittering across the room.

  Pain throbbed in her foot at the site of impact, stifling her anger, and she limped to the tent flap and peered out to see Goodwin’s form disappearing into the gloom. Her expression turned to one of despair. ‘Richard,’ she whispered, ‘come back to me.’

  Chapter Forty Three

  California, USA

  Cold winds blew through the creaking limbs of the dead and dying carcasses of the majestic old-growth trees that covered the flowing plain of the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. Brown leaves, whipped up by swirling vortices, tumbled through the air alongside the pervasive dust particles that sifted down to the ground from the heavens above; these tiny pieces of pulverised rock an ever-present reminder of the devastating and distant impact of the asteroid impact a year previous.

  A darkened campsite lay amongst the giant columns of bark and wood, its facilities empty except for a blue and white coroner’s truck which stood parked in quiet isolation.

  Inside this large vehicle, two women, one large and one small, stood next to one another in quiet contemplation.

  The disgraced BBC newsreader, Jessica Klein, stared into the face of peace that was Professor Steiner, lost in his own mind to death’s eternal embrace. Dark welts that scared his pale skin drew her eyes down, their blood red striations creeping over his exposed chest and neck in equal measure. A well of pity and sorrow grasped her heart. What suffering has this poor man endured? Beaten and abused by those that sought their own justice. And what does he know that can help my family? And why did he help the man known as Colonel Samson to commit such atrocious crimes? Soon, all would become clear, or so she hoped.

  Special Agent Brett Taylor shook her head. ‘No, he can’t be—’

  Jessica looked up at the newest recruit to their company. ‘He can and he is, although he should have woken up by now.’

  ‘How? How did you do it?’

  ‘With great difficulty. Bic helped with most of it, passes, clearance and the like. Coroners can get into places you wouldn’t believe. The hardest part was sourcing the serums.’

  In a dream-like trance, Brett withdrew her pistol and turned it on the professor.

  ‘No!’ Jessica threw herself over the comatose man.

  ‘He deserves to die!’

  ‘He’s our only chance of finding out the truth!’

  Brett tried to throw Jessica aside, but she clung on to the gurney for grim life. ‘Eric!’

  Her German friend ran to her aid, but Brett knocked him down with a crunching blow to the jaw. Jessica leapt and grabbed onto the gun, but Brett swung her round, lifting her off the floor before slamming her into the side of the truck. Pain exploded down her back, but she maintained her grip on the gun. Eric scrambled back to his feet only for Brett to land him a vicious headbutt.

  The German dropped unconscious to the floor.

  Jessica let out a screech of fury and plunged her teeth into the agent’s hand, biting down with all her force. Blood gushed; Brett screamed and released one hand on the pistol only to grab a handful of Jessica’s hair and ram her head into an up rushing knee. Light exploded before Jessica’s eyes and she fell back, dazed. Vision clearing, she saw Brett press her gun to the professor’s forehead.

  ‘Killing him will make you a murderer, just like your father!’ Jessica said. ‘Is that what you want, to be a killer?’

  Brett didn’t look at her, but Jessica could tell she listened.

  ‘Do this and you not only condemn my family to death,’ Jessica said, ‘but everyone else’s, too. This man is the key to everything, do you understand me, EVERYTHING!’

  Brett’s fierce eyes glared at her from beneath furrowed brows.

  Jessica, breathing hard, got to her feet. ‘You know I’m right or you would have already pulled the trigger. Help us, help yourself. Help your countrymen. You swore an oath to defend the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Every action in your life has led you to this moment, this point in time, don’t throw it all away for the illusion of revenge. You’re more than that, we all are.’

  Brett lowered her weapon and stared at her hand where Jessica had bitten her before looking back at the prone form in the body bag, her expression fraught.

  Jessica brushed past to help Eric, who’d risen into a sitting position.

  A laceration across the bridge of his nose dripped blood. ‘Autsch!’ he said, holding his head. ‘That hurt.’

  Jessica helped the young German to his feet.

  He leaned against her, mumbled something and moved a couple of shuffling steps to pick up a mask attached to a canister of laughing gas.

  Jessica plucked the apparatus from his grasp. ‘That’s for serious injuries.’

  Eric looked like he was about to argue, but a beep from the touchscreen told them Bic had sent them a message. She bent down and picked up the device.

  Is everything okay, Jessica Klein? _

  She looked over at Brett who still gazed at the professor, lost in thought. ‘Yes, you were listening?’

  I was. Turn on the speaker so I can speak to you all _

  Jessica did so, as Brett came out of her trance and began attending to her bite wound.

  ‘You might need a tetanus shot for that.’

  Brett ignored her and cleaned her injury with some antiseptic before placing a plaster over it.

  ‘Eric,’ Bic’s said via th
e device, ‘are you there?’

  Brett’s face changed when she heard the new voice, her attention refocused.

  ‘Yes, Da Muss Ich,’ Eric said, ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Does Professor Steiner still sleep?’

  ‘He does.’

  ‘He shouldn’t be. Connect the electrodes as you practised; we need to check his vital signs.’

  ‘Okay.’

  While Eric carried out his duties, Jessica considered the voice – not the words – of the international cyber terrorist in their midst. Bic, or Da Muss Ich as he was known in Germany, didn’t sound German at all, but American, although there was a strange inflection to his words that she couldn’t quite place. Of course an American accent didn’t mean that person came from America, far from it. She’d met some Russians in media circles who sounded more American than some Americans did, so Bic could have gained his distinctive twang having learnt English in America, or from an American source. Whoever he was, she still didn’t like the fact that he continued to call the shots, especially after he’d deceived them previously. Eric still trusted him implicitly, unable to see the duplicity within – unlike Brett Taylor, who appeared not to trust anyone. Although, Jessica reasoned, she was willing to listen to what Bic had to say. She also admitted she believed her father and Professor Steiner had worked for a secret government project – Jessica eyed the large figure of the FBI agent – but she’s undecided on our theory that the impact winter is worse than the GMRC says it is, and that the world’s resources are being siphoned off into underground bases.

  Such thoughts turned Jessica’s mind onto her family. The memory of her two girls leaving with her husband, Evan, back in England, drove a spike of fear into her heart.

  ‘Are the electrodes attached, Eric?’ Bic said.

  ‘Ja, and the machine is on.’

  ‘Sync the results to my device.’

  Eric did as he was bid.

  Moments passed as Bic digested the data fed to him. ‘Something is wrong, his brainwaves are too weak. We must act quickly. Jessica Klein, administer the injections, hurry!’

  Jessica rushed to a nearby cabinet and extracted the pre-prepared syringes. Returning to the body, she placed a hand on cold skin and rested the needle against the man’s throat.

  Her hand shook and a spot of blood appeared as she pricked the skin.

  Eric moved closer. ‘What are you doing? Inject him!’

  She breathed deep, trying to calm herself, but the shaking continued. ‘I’m trying!’

  A hand grasped hers and she looked into Brett’s face.

  ‘Give it here.’

  Jessica hesitated.

  A bleeping sound came from the machine. ‘He is dying, Jessica Klein,’ Bic said, ‘do it now!’

  ‘You can trust me,’ Brett said.

  Jessica stared into her eyes.

  The beeping turned into a continuous drawn out sound.

  Jessica ceded control and Brett grasped the professor’s neck and punctured the skin with the syringe. She glanced up at Jessica, who nodded and Brett depressed the plunger.

  The machine’s output returned to a slow beep.

  Brett held out her hand and Jessica passed her the next injection, its thick needle twice as long as the first.

  ‘Where does this one go?’

  Jessica pointed a shaky finger at his chest. ‘In his heart.’

  ‘Insert the needle between the fourth intercostal space in the ribs,’ Bic said.

  Brett blew out her cheeks and put the point in place.

  A diagram appeared on the touchscreen, which Jessica had placed next to the body.

  ‘Down a bit,’ Eric said.

  Brett adjusted its position and pushed it home, making Jessica wince.

  An instant later Brett sent the liquid payload into its target and withdrew the needle.

  Nothing happened. The machine that monitored the man’s vital signs continued to bleep and beep at irregular intervals.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Eric looked at Jessica. ‘Why isn’t he waking up?’

  She shook her head, fearing the worst.

  Eric jabbed a finger at Brett. ‘You did something, you switched the needles!’

  Jessica looked at the agent’s nonplussed expression.

  ‘She didn’t have time,’ Jessica said. ‘Besides, we’d have seen her do it.’

  Eric remained glaring at Brett.

  ‘This doesn’t make sense,’ Bic said, his voice emanating from the touchscreen.

  Jessica picked up the device. ‘Did we do something wrong?’

  ‘No, but I must check some things.’

  The screen went dark as Bic went off to God knows where.

  Jessica felt dizzy and she put a hand against a wall to steady herself. ‘I don’t know what happened. This is my fault, I delayed too long.’

  ‘You thought your family’s life was on the line,’ Brett said, ‘you panicked.’

  Jessica shook her head. ‘That doesn’t happen to me.’

  ‘It has now.’

  ‘A few seconds wouldn’t have made any difference,’ Eric said, shooting Brett a look of angry distrust. ‘If anyone’s to blame, it’s her.’

  ‘How do you figure, little man?’

  ‘Because you distracted us. This is your fault, you killed him.’

  Brett snorted. ‘I won’t lose any sleep over it.’

  Eric sent a string of German curses her way before a hand from Jessica calmed him.

  A sick feeling rose like bile in Jessica’s throat, she’d just condemned her family to death. It had been down to her and she’d failed.

  A roar of noise outside the truck made Jessica start and dazzling light lit up the cabin.

  ‘Was ist das?!’ Eric said, scared.

  Jessica shielded her eyes and moved to peer out of the driver’s window.

  A loudspeaker blared out a computer-generated voice. ‘ATTENTION! Occupants of vehicle registration, 1558674, this is a restricted area. GMRC curfew is in effect in the state of California. You have exceeded this curfew. Please step out of the vehicle and await the relevant authorities.’

  Eric grabbed his head in distress. ‘What’re they going on about? We’re in a federal vehicle!’

  Jessica switched on the touchscreen. ‘Bic! What’s happening? There’s a GMRC drone saying we’ve broken curfew!’

  ‘Perhaps your terrorist isn’t as good as he says he is,’ Brett said.

  Jessica pushed past her to check on the professor. She still couldn’t feel a pulse. ‘Eric, start the truck!’

  Eric jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  ‘ATTENTION! Occupants of vehicle registration 1558674! Failure to comply with GMRC protocols is a federal offence. Turn off your engine and step out of the vehicle, or suppression measures will be utilised.’

  Eric’s face creased in concern. ‘Measures?’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ Brett said.

  Jessica waited for Bic to reply before a rush of cold air made her turn to see Brett opening the rear doors.

  ‘What is she doing?!’ Eric said.

  Jessica had no idea.

  ♦

  Brett Taylor emerged from the back of the coroner’s van. Like all federal agents, she knew the facial recognition software in the GRMC drone would flag up her official record. Even though she was suspended, it would be enough to alert the nearest FBI field office to her whereabouts. She’d have these two idiots and their dead friend wrapped up in a nice little parcel by the time her colleagues arrived, and she’d be able to provide hard intelligence on the Bureau’s number one terrorist target. Surely that would be enough to get her reinstated, or at the very least, it was a strong hand to lever her way back into the game. Even if she lost the direct lead, no agent had ever got close enough to speak to B.I.C.’s informants, let alone the terrorist himself. Plus she had two of his accomplices in the palm of her hand. She smiled to herself in satisfaction; the tide was turning in her favour.

/>   ‘CITIZEN, identify yourself!’ The drone moved to the back of the truck to turn its lights on her, the roar of its turbine rotors blowing up dust and debris from the ground.

  Brett held up her hands and shouted, ‘Special Agent Brett Taylor, FBI!’

  The drone flew lower and a grid of blue lasers appeared on the ground before flowing up Brett’s body and over her head. ‘Brett Taylor, you are in violation of GMRC curfew, remain where you are.’

  Brett lowered her arms.

  ‘CITIZEN, drop your weapon and keep your hands up!’

  Brett swore and took a step forward. ‘Secure code in, 986523.’

  ‘Unrecognised. Drop your weapon and put your hands up, this is your final warning!’

  The truck’s doors slammed shut behind her and she turned to see the vehicle driving off.

  The drone blared out a deafening noise. A small gun turret on the machine’s underbelly swivelled into action. ‘DRIVER, cease movement or you will be fired upon!’

  Brett swore and ran to catch up.

  ‘Driver, you have violated a GMRC directive. This asset is authorised to engage!’ A burst of gunfire erupted into the night.

  ♦

  ‘Eric!’ Jessica dived for cover as bullets tore into the side of the vehicle.

  Somehow the ageing truck kept moving and the gunfire stopped. The young German reappeared in the driver’s seat, nervous eyes peering over the wheel. The light stayed with them as they moved out onto the highway and one of the rear doors opened.

  Out of breath, Brett re-entered the truck. ‘Jesus, what are you doing?!’

  ‘We can’t afford to be captured,’ Jessica said, staying low.

  Brett heaved the door closed. ‘Well you’re going a funny way about it. When a drone opens fire it brings in five more for support.’

  ‘We thought it was going to kill you.’

  ‘So you thought you’d leave me; thanks.’