2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light)

by Robert Storey

  ‘We know the world’s stockpiles are being taken into the subterranean bases,’ Eric said, ‘and the surface is doomed.’

  Brett saw a brief look of shock on Steiner’s face. A sense of unease descended on her. Had these two fools been telling the truth after all? ‘So it’s true?’ She took a step forward and Steiner cowered from her like a wounded animal.

  A hand on Brett’s arm halted her advance and Jessica moved past. ‘I’ve seen one of these bases, been inside one, EUSB Deutschland.’ She pointed at Brett. ‘Her father worked in one, USSB Steadfast. You were his superior, you know all there is to know.’ She took out a photo of her family to show him. ‘I need to know, I need to save my daughters, my husband. Don’t they deserve to live? Don’t they deserve a chance? Please, Professor, I need to get them into one of these bases, I will do anything, just help us.’

  ‘I’m sorry; I don’t know what you’re talking about. I worked for the GMRC’s Public Relations Division.’

  ‘Bull!’ Brett pushed Jessica aside and grasped his shirt.

  Trembling, the old man turned his head away.

  ‘Let him go!’ Eric said, grabbing her wrists.

  Shaking with anger, Brett released the old man and Jessica squared up to her. ‘You’re not helping. Go and get some air!’ The tiny newsreader thrust a finger at the rear of the truck.

  Brett scowled at the professor, her heart beating ten to the dozen. I might have known he’d tell us squat. What was I thinking? Stifling a sneer of contempt, she pushed open the doors and dropped down to stalk away into the dark.

  ♦

  Jessica Klein watched the FBI agent come to a stop twenty feet away from the truck, her breath curling up into the freezing air. She closed the doors and turned back to Steiner. ‘I’m sorry, our friend, she’s—’

  The professor wasn’t listening. He faced the wall, blocking out sight and sound.

  Jessica laid a tentative hand on his shoulder.

  He twitched at her touch and turned to face her, his expression one of sorrow and defeat. ‘It’s understandable – she hates me, and with good reason.’

  ‘Why did you help that man, Colonel Samson? Why did you help him do what he did?’

  ‘I don’t know anymore, everything’s a blur, but I feel responsible for all those poor people he killed. I deserve to die, I accept that now.’

  ‘I don’t believe that.’

  Steiner remained silent and Jessica gestured for Eric to join her outside.

  Closing the doors behind them, they moved a few paces from the truck to afford themselves some privacy.

  Eric blew into his hands to warm them. ‘That’s the man we came all this way to rescue? He can’t save himself, let alone the world.’

  ‘He’s clearly traumatised, beaten black and blue. I think he’s lost the will to live.’

  ‘Which means he’s no use to anyone,’ Brett said, rejoining them. ‘You’ve risked everything for nothing.’

  ‘No.’ Jessica shook her head. ‘I won’t accept that. He just needs more time.’

  ‘According to you, time is exactly what we don’t have. It could take weeks for him to come round, if at all.’

  ‘The stockpiles are going fast,’ Eric said. ‘Brett is right, time is running out.’

  Jessica thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps we should up the ante.’ She withdrew the touchscreen device. ‘Bic, the professor isn’t opening up to us and he may never tell us what he knows. Any ideas?’

  The computer gave a bleep. ‘We always knew this might happen, Jessica Klein. Take me to him.’

  ‘But you said if he knew you were behind his release he’d be reluctant to talk.’

  ‘That is correct, but we have little option if what you say is true. It is time for him to know. It’s time for us to talk.’

  Chapter Forty Six

  Professor Steiner leaned his head back against the wall. He ached all over and his skin felt like it was on fire. Whatever they’d injected into him back at the prison hadn’t killed him, but its after-effects lingered on. The smell of chemicals hung in the air and he could hear the muffled voices of his captors outside. How they had found out who he was he didn’t know, but that they knew about the Subterranean Programme was bad – very bad. There was still time to disrupt the GMRC’s carefully laid plans, if word got out.

  The doors to the back of the truck opened and the Englishwoman and the German entered, followed by Samson’s daughter. The doors slammed shut and Steiner jumped at the sound, startled.

  The woman who called herself Jessica handed him a small computer. ‘We have someone we want you to speak to.’

  Steiner looked at her expectant expression and then glanced at Agent Taylor, who gazed at him with analytical eyes.

  The screen lit up, beeped, and a flashing cursor danced across the screen.

  Professor Steiner, I have been waiting a long time to speak to you _

  Steiner sat looking at the message unsure what kind of torment he was to be subjected to next.

  The young German came to peer at the screen. ‘You can speak into it.’

  Steiner couldn’t have cared less. He dropped the device to his lap and shut his eyes.

  Another beep sounded and a new voice spoke. ‘Professor Steiner, you will be interested in what I have to say.’

  ‘Will I,’ Steiner said, his eyelids remaining closed.

  ‘It has taken me many, many years to reach this point in time. To be speaking to you now is a culmination of unspeakable commitment. You are probably wondering who I am. But we have met on occasion, at least indirectly. You have proven quite a resilient adversary.’

  Steiner remained still, but his mind had tuned into the voice, the formulation of its words spoken with a tone that captivated the senses.

  ‘I have seen your work in the raw when you helped Brett Taylor’s father in Los Angeles,’ the voice continued. ‘That was quite the hack, Professor Steiner. Utilising GMRC servers to infiltrate the FBI’s mainframe: impressive. But without your inside knowledge of the GMRC’s systems you would have found it far harder to achieve.’

  Steiner felt a desire to respond, but once more he held his tongue.

  ‘So, by now you are wondering who I am. And I shall tell you. I go by many names, but you, I think, will know me best as B.I.C. or Bic.’

  Steiner cracked open a weary eye.

  ‘Or perhaps you know me as Da Muss Ich, D.M.I. or Deforcement Insidious?’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Steiner said. ‘Because I Can, the international terrorist. The hacker idolised by his peers. A man without a code. A man without morals.’

  Brett Taylor gave a snort of derision.

  ‘It seems others think the same of you, Professor Steiner,’ Bic said. ‘Times change, people change—’

  ‘But the game always remains.’

  Bic chuckled. ‘Ah, you know me well, do you not?’

  ‘I know you seek to manipulate me. That’s all you know.’

  ‘Is saving the world such an evil, Professor Steiner?’

  ‘Is that what you think you’re doing?’

  ‘I – like those standing before you now – wonder where the governments of the world are taking our food and water, and all our other resources. You think someone wouldn’t notice, Professor Steiner? You think just because you have the power of the GMRC controlling the masses with your big data servers, population control and all-seeing eyes that you are gods?’ Bic laughed, the sound disingenuous. ‘Your arrogance is monumental.’

  Steiner took a breath. ‘And yours isn’t? You think your attacks are justified, that you know better than those that lead?’

  ‘Ah, so you don’t deny the resources are being taken?’

  ‘That’s not what I said.’

  ‘But it is inferred. But then I do not need you to confirm what I already know. We know there are underground bases. We know the resources of the world are being taken to these bases. And we know there is something you are not telling us.’

  S
teiner searched the faces of the three people before him. He was getting pulled into a debate he did not care for.

  B.I.C. – the great hacker. Steiner had battled against his attacks for decades, working with those across multiple GMRC divisions to protect their secrets for the good of the species. This man was a menace like no other. No one else had caused them more problems or wasted more of their time, and no one else had the skills he possessed. Steiner had often thought the name to be a cover for a group of people, but over the years it had become apparent, through their interactions with him, that B.I.C. was indeed one individual. It had amazed everyone that someone so incredibly gifted had flown under their radar because, like it or not, B.I.C. was by far the most talented, elusive, resourceful and motivated criminal of the twenty-first century, perhaps of all time. Some theorised his IQ was off the scale. Steiner was himself regarded as something of a genius in certain circles, not that he courted such accolades, but even he struggled to comprehend the abilities B.I.C. wielded during his infiltrations. Genius was not the word; his coding – sections that they’d managed to find – was something else. Computer experts still pored over it today. A special team had even been set up to track him down, but to no avail.

  ‘Conspiracy theories have been around since the beginning of time,’ Steiner said, his need to speak unfathomable. It felt like this man knew him better than he did.

  Bic’s device let out a bleep. ‘What is a conspiracy theory except the truth wrapped in a lie, wrapped within truth? People scoff and mock conspiracy theories as they’re not willing to see a world as it can be, horrific and dark, and yet if you can recognise the dark you can also see the light posing as dark, or dark posing as light. In Veritate Scientia.’

  Steiner knew those words. In truth, knowledge. The motto of the GMRC Directorate.

  ‘Just because it’s a theory doesn’t mean it’s not true,’ Bic continued, ‘in fact the media’s propaganda can be full of lies and the conspiracy theory full of truth. You should know that, Professor Steiner. Ignore the words of compulsive liars. The politicians say what they have to, they say what they’re told to say. You say what you’re told to say. You think how they tell you to think. Actions always – without fail – speak louder than any words.’

  Steiner heaved a sigh. ‘If you think you know so much, why do you need me?’

  ‘Because a half-truth can be as dangerous as a lie. Brett Taylor needs evidence and justice, Jessica Klein must save her family, and Eric Wolf wants to save the world.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘I, Professor Steiner, seek only one thing – understanding.’

  Something Bic had just said sought to awaken an elusive memory from Steiner’s subconscious mind. He tried to focus, but the last few days had left him weak and befuddled. The thought slipped away, lost, and he ran his parched tongue over cracked lips.

  Eric noticed his discomfort and handed him a bottle of water, which Steiner accepted with gratitude.

  ‘Who are the hundreds of thousands of civilians condemned to a premature death, Professor Steiner?’ Bic said.

  Steiner looked at Brett as he sipped his water.

  ‘Is a city in danger?’ Bic continued, ‘or one of your underground bases, perhaps?’

  Steiner didn’t reply.

  ‘Come now, Professor, we could help you save these people. Do you not see the opportunity we provide? You have been deposed from power, forced into a criminal act against your will. You have no direct power, no influence, and yet you still have the one thing that can shape the world.’

  Steiner couldn’t understand how Bic seemed to know so much about him. And yet he couldn’t describe how little he cared. ‘And that is?’

  ‘Knowledge. The secrets you hold could save billions of lives, or at least millions. Is that not a worthy cause?’

  ‘Not if it endangers millions more.’ Steiner had a sudden thought, recalling what had previously eluded him. He looked at the slender figure of the woman from England. ‘Jessica Klein, the BBC newsreader. I thought I recognised the name.’

  ‘Former newsreader,’ she said, her tone bitter. ‘Your people at the GMRC saw fit to frame me.’

  Steiner held Bic’s device before him. ‘And that’s your grand plan, to find out what I know and relay it around the world for all to see? Using this woman you’ve conned into your service as your conduit.’

  ‘I’ve conned no one, Professor Steiner. I leave that up to the GMRC.’

  Steiner held Jessica Klein’s gaze. He could see doubt behind those eyes. ‘And yet it seems Ms. Klein feels otherwise.’

  ‘I said no such thing,’ the newsreader said.

  Bic gave a chortle. ‘Ah, Professor Steiner, your quick wit is returning. Good. We will need you at your best in the days and weeks ahead.’

  ‘There is no “we”. If there’s one thing you should know about me, Bic, it’s that I never make the same mistake twice. I’ve already helped one terrorist; I won’t aid another, no matter what you say or do.’

  ‘Is that right, Professor Steiner?’

  Steiner held his tongue again. He knew his time at the GMRC had ended as soon as Colonel Samson had fired his first shot in the FBI stronghold back in LA. Or was it when Joiner turned on me back in USSB Steadfast? he wondered. Either way, his power had gone, and with it his ability to influence anything in the grand scheme of humanity’s future. I’ve done my part and I’m satisfied – no – proud. I can help no one now. Anything I do will lead to further loss of life. I have to accept saving those in USSB Steadfast is beyond my control, anything I do to bring attention to their plight would expose everything, would threaten all the plans I’ve worked half my life to achieve. They will have to find their own way and I’m so tired, so very tired.

  ‘What if I told you I intercepted a military communiqué yesterday,’ Bic said, ‘a message that indicated a massive field of space debris and been tracked entering Earth’s atmosphere? What if I told you I have unearthed other such communications, all of which confirm the destruction of all four space stations that were orbiting the globe?’

  Steiner felt his chest tighten. The GMRC’s Space Programme was the last hope the surface had. A slim chance of survival, considering their past attempts had failed so spectacularly, but still a chance, nonetheless, or perhaps a chance for billions to survive for a few years longer. He had always seen NASA’s effort to stem the flow of the approaching asteroids as a shot in the dark, a throw of the cosmic dice, a toss of the galactic coin – heads you win, tails you lose. But as all had come to accept, only a network of underground bases could guarantee humanity’s survival.

  ‘Are you still there, Professor Steiner?’

  ‘He’s listening,’ Brett said, ‘we all are.’

  ‘Yes,’ Bic continued, ‘this information will be of interest to you all. Do you know what else I found, Professor?’

  Steiner watched the expression of Eric, eager to hear what this terrorist had to say. Jessica Klein looked wary but equally enrapt, while the FBI agent stood, arms folded, phone in hand, her face one of guarded hostility. ‘I’m all ears,’ he said.

  ‘I found a hidden message buried in the jumble of data that managed to penetrate the dust cloud.’

  ‘What did it say?’ Eric said, unable to contain himself.

  ‘It is too weak to comprehend in its entirety, but it’s a distress signal, of that I am certain. The curious thing is the process and frequencies used are quite old, in fact they predate the GMRC era by three decades, a twentieth century relic in analogue form. The sender has gone to a lot of trouble to hide their identity and location.’

  ‘Why is that weird?’ Jessica said.

  Eric shot her a look of disbelief. ‘Because why would you want to hide a distress call?’

  ‘Eric is correct, Jessica Klein. The only reason I could discern for such a move would be to avoid detection by the GMRC itself, or those government agencies that work alongside it. It is a cry for help and we need to respond. If Profe
ssor Steiner is unwilling to help us, then perhaps whoever is behind this message will.’

  Steiner knew the hacker could be making this up. In fact, it was more than likely a ruse to pressure him into spilling his secrets. A pity for them he was in no mood to comply. He closed his eyes, rested his head back and retreated into his battered body. Bic can play all he likes; I’m not even in the game.

  ♦

  The GMRC man shut his eyes and leaned back against the truck’s interior while Jessica contemplated the hacker’s words. ‘How can we speak to them if the signal is so weak?’ she said.

  ‘There is one place that will be capable of retrieving the full message,’ Bic replied, ‘enough, anyway, that it can be pieced together.’

  ‘And where’s that?’ Jessica said.

  ‘It is a large cluster of radio telescope antennas called ALMA. The Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array in Chile, South America.’

  Brett snorted. ‘And how you do you expect us to get there?’

  ‘There is an aircraft waiting for you on a runway two miles from your current location.’

  ‘Why am I not surprised?’ Jessica shook her head.

  ‘Because you know me too well, Jessica Klein.’

  ‘I think you’re missing something, Bic,’ Steiner said, his eyes remaining closed.

  ‘And what is that, Professor Steiner?’

  ‘No one is going to be able to reach your plane.’

  Silence ensued before Bic spoke again. ‘Elaborate.’

  ‘How long since you called them?’ Steiner said.

  There was no answer.

  Eric looked at Jessica. ‘What’s he talking about?’

  Steiner opened his eyes and looked at Brett.

  The FBI agent considered him. ‘I didn’t think you were awake.’

  Eric grasped Jessica’s arm. ‘What are they talking about?’

  Jessica saw the phone in Brett’s hand. ‘You didn’t?!’