2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light)

by Robert Storey

  A distant noise made everyone look round.

  Priest and his men raised their weapons.

  ‘What was that?’ Rebecca said in fear.

  ‘It came from back there.’ A sullen Walker pointed back to where they’d just been.

  ‘That’s what I thought, too,’ Goodwin said.

  ‘And Lieutenant Manaus is about to confirm it for us,’ Priest said, ‘isn’t that so, Lieutenant?’

  Manaus glowered at him before sealing her helmet and sending the eye-like sculpturing to glowing blue. Everyone followed behind as the Darklight officer led the way back up to the pewter sculptures.

  The oppressive darkness closed in around them and Goodwin found himself holding his breath.

  ‘There’s nothing,’ Manaus called out after she’d swept the area.

  Goodwin moved past Priest, who still had his rifle raised as he searched for potential threats with its torch.

  They were about to leave when Rebecca pointed at one of the Anakim women. ‘The Lieutenant’s wrong, there is something; that statue’s moved.’

  Goodwin looked again at the figure. Where before it had been standing tall, head held high, it now looked down at the ground towards the centre of the pentagram. It was a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless. On closer inspection nothing else appeared to be out of place, but Goodwin had the distinct impression the woman was trying to tell him something. He looked up at the wall and the giant frieze where the constellations in its skyscape sent understanding coursing through him.

  ‘Lieutenant, are you able to transfer a static image of the frieze to this helmet?’ He held up the headgear he’d used for diving in the lake.

  ‘Yes, sir, no problem. Switch it on and I’ll send it you.’

  Goodwin pulled on the helmet and turned on its computer system. Seconds later he’d received the desired photo. Minimising it, he reattached the light bar onto his helmet and returned to the throne, with everyone trailing behind. Standing in front of the silver God once more, Goodwin superimposed the Anakim frieze onto his helmet’s display and compared the constellations to those on the throne. Combining his fingers and thumbs, as he’d done before, Goodwin proceeded to turn each constellation on the throne to match the position depicted on the frieze. After he’d rotated ten of the circles, another sound echoed through the great hall, the noise once again coming from the area that contained the frieze.

  ‘It’s a combination lock,’ Rebecca said, amazed.

  Goodwin didn’t stop, but continued to rearrange the constellations until all but one remained. With aching fingers, he dialled in the correct position of the final circle and a flash of light blew through the hall. Pitch-darkness returned before a cool wind whistled past, its invisible hands tugging at clothing and ruffling hair.

  With nervous anticipation, Goodwin led them back once more to find all three statues had altered position. Each of the women now knelt on one knee with head bowed. The one directly before the frieze, which faced them, had placed its hands on the shoulders of its two sisters, creating a semi-circle around the silver pentagram’s centre.

  That the statues had moved so much and yet still retained their smooth surfaces and lifelike form sent shivers down Goodwin’s spine. It really was like they were alive, reanimated by an unseen power, their movements hidden in the dark like an elicit meeting in the night. But the statues were not the only things that had altered form; whereas before the pewter seas had washed over and around the pentagram in its entirety, the pentagon in its centre was now a black void of nothing. Goodwin approached the gaping hole, his breathing sounding loud inside his stifling helmet.

  Goodwin’s eyes grew wide. ‘There’s stairs,’ he said, glancing round before looking back down into the newly revealed passage with renewed hope. There might be a way out of Sanctuary yet!

  Chapter Seventy

  Back outside the Anakim Sphinx, past the standing stones and beyond the great hall of wailing statues, up the great shaft and across the causeway to the lakeshore, a host of dark forms appeared out of the black. Torchlights bloomed into existence like a host of Will o’ the Wisps in the night.

  A figure knelt on the water’s surface before standing to walk across it like the son of God himself.

  ‘Well?’ a man said as he approached.

  ‘Sir, the causeway is secure. It appears to extend into the lake and out to a small island.’

  ‘An island?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘So, Goodwin may have been right after all?’

  ‘It looks that way.’

  The man sucked on his teeth for a moment, considering his options, and then turned to a woman at his side. ‘Get me command.’

  ‘Patching you through, sir.’

  A few seconds later she passed him a radio handset.

  ‘Command,’ a voice said,

  ‘This is Captain Winter; put me through to the major.’

  A pause followed before Offiah spoke, ‘Captain, what news?’

  ‘Sir, we’ve found something. There’s a land bridge out to an island in the centre of the lake.’

  Silence ensued as Offiah digested what he’d just been told. ‘And Goodwin?’

  ‘No sign of him or the decontamination team.’

  ‘The carer and her ward? The Lieutenant?’

  ‘The same, Major. But their tracks tell us they must have crossed onto the island and have yet to return.’

  ‘Then nothing’s changed. Hunt them down and flush them out. I want the director back; use all means necessary.’

  ‘What about Manaus and the other two civilians? A full assault, I can’t guarantee their safety. The doctor, Vandervoort she won’t—’

  ‘Leave her to me. The director is all that matters for the stability of the camp, the rest is collateral damage. If you can keep it to a minimum do so, but the time for caution has passed.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And if Goodwin has found a way out, secure it and await reinforcements.’

  ‘Roger that, sir.

  ‘And Captain.’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Consider the director a hostile; if you need to disable him, take the shot.’

  The Darklight officer paused as he computed the order. ‘Copy that.’

  ‘Keep me updated, Offiah out.’

  Winter passed the handset back to the radio operator before turning to face the rest of his Darklight unit. ‘Listen up, the mission is still a go. Weapons hot, eyes on. This is virgin territory and we all know what’s at stake. Secure the director and nullify U.S. Army personnel; nothing else matters. If it’s your life or his, I expect you to take the bullet. If the director resists, shoot to subdue. Do you get me?’

  ‘Sir, yes, sir!’ his team said, as one.

  Winter nodded in satisfaction and sent his visor down over his eyes before sealing his face inside his helmet with the lower face-plate. Checking his rifle and syncing it to his combat system, he slapped back the bolt and slid a round into the chamber. ‘On me!’ he said, and ghosted out onto the causeway.

  Chapter Seventy One

  The tick tick tick of his antique wristwatch sounded loud to Malcolm Joiner’s ears as he watched the second hand complete another minute on its cyclical journey. He’d received a message from the Committee which had told him to expect a video call within the hour. It had been fifty seven minutes and fifteen – sixteen – seventeen – eighteen seconds, and still he waited in his office in USSB Sanctuary. A sense of expectation and dread seeped into his mind, their poisonous talons gnawing at his core and keeping him from his work. He knew this was how the Committee liked to operate, keeping people hanging on their every word, their every command. It was infuriating! Joiner felt a surge of anger quash the fear that tormented him. What do they want now? Have I not just been successful in taking down two major players, two men that have been a thorn in the Committee’s side for decades?

  At first he’d assumed he was to be congratulated for his work, but as time h
ad passed, doubts had risen. He remembered the pendant and the challenge from S.I.L.V.E.R.’s leader, Ophion Nexus, and how he’d been forced to act against the Committee’s wishes and install Colonel Samson as the mission commander. I had to act, he thought, I had no choice. I had to preserve my control over the situation. It was the right decision; the only decision … wasn’t it?

  He’d gone against the Committee’s orders before, but always to attain a goal, to further their interests beyond their remit. But he’d never confronted them so boldly. He’d never usurped their orders on anything so important. But what choice had they left him? None. They knew the position they’d put him in. Do nothing and he looked weak while his fate was left in the hands of another. Do something and he challenged the Committee’s power head on, risking all. But as he knew, it was always better to be strong, to take control, and so that’s what he’d done.

  A flashing red sign on his computer ended his wait. The incoming message resolved itself onto his 3D wallscreen, covering part of the Brazilian rainforest that hunkered in the shadows of a full moon’s light. The graphical window expanded to reveal the tall figure of Selene Dubois.

  ‘Malcolm Joiner, I have heard worrying things.’

  ‘I thought you would be pleased. Professor Steiner is out of the picture, as you desired, and the cyber terrorist has been captured in the Philippines.’

  ‘I was referring to your decision to install a U.S. colonel at the head of our search of Sanctuary Proper,’ Selene said, her tone scathing and expression fierce. ‘Did you think we would not find out?’

  Joiner stood up. ‘I did what I thought was best. Colonel Samson is trained in all things subterranean. S.I.L.V.E.R., while more than capable, are not.’

  ‘S.I.L.V.E.R. are trained to operate in all terrains. Your attempt at maintaining control was poorly executed and has put the whole mission in jeopardy.’

  ‘Samson will get results, I have—’

  ‘We are aware of your methods of motivation, Director. Needless to say word has been sent for Ophion Nexus to resume control.’

  Joiner went to say something, but Selene held up a hand to silence him. ‘The matter is closed. The Committee has spoken.’

  Joiner fought down the urge to respond as Selene picked up a piece of paper and perused its contents. ‘As to your earlier comments,’ she said, ‘it seems the information you sent us was premature. Another failure – and upon such precedents difficult decisions are made.’

  ‘Premature?’

  ‘It seems the man arrested, the man you thought to be the international terrorist B.I.C., is nothing of the sort.’

  Joiner’s mouth ran dry. ‘I assure you, we confirmed his identity. The digital fingerprint matched his previous incarnations. His signal was verified and identity revealed. We have finally put a face to the name.’ Joiner struggled with his keyboard, his fingers feeling heavy and disjointed. A picture of the terrorist appeared on-screen, a dark-haired, middle-aged man.

  ‘That is not the cyber terrorist,’ Selene said, looking at the picture he’d sent to her location.

  Joiner shook his head. ‘No, that can’t be. I spoke to him and he admitted to his crimes on arrest. That is the cyber terrorist, there can be no doubt.’

  ‘And yet there is. When you told us of his capture we instructed our Asian chapter to confirm the authenticity of your claims. It appears the man you have identified is merely an unwilling participant in a mind control programme. The terrorist manipulated and then subverted him and the image he allowed you to see was a digital render of that same man, a human avatar. A puppet controlled by the terrorist from afar. We are no closer to finding him than we have ever been. And if this wasn’t enough, it has come to our attention that Professor Steiner may still be alive.’

  ‘Impossible.’

  Another image appeared on-screen of a dark grey aircraft parked next to a large array of radio telescopes. ‘Do you recognise this drone, Director?’

  Joiner sat back down, stunned.

  Selene arched a brow. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

  ‘I—’ Joiner felt like his world was falling down around his ears. He’d never made such errors before, and for them to happen now was catastrophic. ‘Send me the location and I will make amends.’

  ‘Your time has passed, Malcolm Joiner. We have taken matters into our own hands. Professor Steiner cannot be allowed to align himself with the terrorist, he has had his nine lives, it’s time for him to die. As to your performance, consider yourself under evaluation.’

  The image of Selene disappeared to be replaced by two words:

  Transmission Terminated

  Joiner remained stock still, gazing at the second word on-screen, its meaning reflecting the tenuous nature of his position. His chaotic thoughts settled on the man who seemed destined to haunt him forever more. Professor Steiner had evaded him again. Will you ever stop fighting me? he thought. He shook himself out of his introspection to see his 3D screen had switched to a real-time view of the surface. He couldn’t tell what location was being broadcast, but darkness reigned as lightning lit up the horizon.

  Joiner held down his intercom button to speak to his receptionist.

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Any news from Agent Myers?’

  ‘Not yet, sir. Sorry, sir.’

  Joiner paused.

  ‘Is there anything else, sir?’

  ‘Do you ever wonder why things don’t work out the way they should?’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand the question.’

  ‘No, why would you?’ Joiner released the button in distraction and stared out into the massive thunderstorm that engulfed the dying Amazonian landscape. A flash of lightning lit up his face. ‘Why is it,’ he murmured as the light died and thunder rumbled, ‘some people just don’t know when to lie down and die?’

  Chapter Seventy Two

  A black clad U.S. Navy SEAL flipped over the dead body with his foot to reveal the owner’s slack-jawed face. Bending down, he rifled through the deceased’s pockets. He found a wallet, some money and a packet of cigarettes.

  ‘Anything?’ his superior said.

  The soldier stood up and threw what he’d found onto the bloody chest of the dead police officer. ‘Nothing, sir, just another local.’

  The commanding officer pressed a button on his tactical radio. ‘All units, spread out and search the area for signs of a vehicle. The building’s a bust.’ He turned to his subordinate. ‘They can’t have gone far. Call in air support and get some drones in the air.’

  ‘Do we have authorisation for such a large scale mission, sir? This is sovereign territory.’

  ‘I’ve been told the Peruvian military are on board. When they found out these people had killed three of their own, they were only too happy to lend a hand.’

  ‘Do we know who they are yet?’

  The officer shook his head as he led the way back outside. ‘It’s a need to know.’

  ‘It’s nice to know we’re trusted.’

  ‘Get used to it; it’s what we do.’ He looked round as more helicopters landed and U.S. troops spilled out onto the ground to spread out in all directions. ‘Whoever they are they’ve got the entire Pacific Fleet on their ass. When you mess with the United States you better be prepared for a fight.’

  ‘Or be a fast runner.’

  The leader chuckled. ‘A real fast runner.’

  ‘I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes when they’re caught. I heard the CIA want them for interrogation.’

  ‘I heard a lot of things, none of it good. Whatever the case, they won’t get far. And if they resist—’

  ‘They’re dead.’

  The leader scanned the horizon. ‘Terrorists – born cowards, all of ’em.’

  ‘They’ll get what’s coming to them,’ the other said, holding up his water canister, ‘and God willing we’ll be there when it happens.’

  The leader took a swig from the offered container and wiped the excess water from h
is mouth. ‘Amen to that,’ he said, ‘fucking amen to that.’

  Chapter Seventy Three

  The four-by-four police car rocked and rolled as it bounced over the uneven foothills of the Andes mountain range. In the driving seat the young German, Eric, span the wheel left and right as he fought to keep them heading along the dirt track road.

  Professor Steiner sat in the passenger seat, while Jessica Klein accompanied Brett in the back.

  The FBI agent stared out of the window as the dark terrain drifted by. She couldn’t believe what she’d been told. Jessica Klein had said the world’s resources were being taken and that everyone would starve in a fight for life, and now she’d learnt six more asteroids were heading for Earth. To try and compute such information was too much for one person to bear.

  I don’t believe it, Brett said to herself, I refuse to believe it. They must be wrong. They ARE wrong! But what about father? He said I was in danger; this must have been what he meant, he was trying to protect me out of some kind of warped sense of love. And the old man had said hundreds of thousands of people would die and Malcolm Joiner confirmed the destruction of one of these underground bases. NO! she thought, her inner voice screaming its dissent. No, there’s no way they could have hidden six more asteroids, astronomers would have seen them – millions of amateurs, the thousands of professionals. No one could hide that kind of information … could they? The GMRC might be able to, said the traitor within, you know full well the capabilities of government agencies – the NSA, CIA and the FBI’s National Security Branch. And these agencies pale into insignificance against the might of the GMRC’s Intelligence Division. Plus, she reasoned, it’s common knowledge only a handful of telescopes can see into deep space, it would be easy to limit access to them.

  Brett squeezed the bridge of her nose. But what about Da Muss Ich, B.I.C., the terrorist renowned for manipulation and misinformation? There is no way he can be trusted and I sense something about him, something not quite right. He’s hiding something and whatever it is I need to stay close until I figure it out. The same goes for these fugitives, she thought, assessing the three people with her. They’ve already made me kill once; they’ll pay for making me make that choice. Whatever the truth, I can’t allow them free rein. I’ll bide my time. I’ll watch and wait, and then I’ll make my move.