Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2)

by Robert Storey

‘And the arrogant are the first to die,’ Armstrong said, riled.

  Ophion glanced down at his left side where his armour had been breached. ‘I came close to glory,’ he said, ‘but death still eludes my skill.’

  ‘Shouldn’t that be the other way round?’ said Armstrong’s lieutenant.

  Ophion turned his measured gaze upon the man who’d spoken before returning it to Armstrong. ‘Get your men back up, Major, our objectives are unmet.’

  ‘What are you talking about? The mission’s a bust, or haven’t you realised? The rest of your team is gone, a third of our force is dead, captured or injured, and Sarah Morgan is under a thousand feet of water. If you think we’re going anywhere but back to base you need your head read.’

  Ophion moved closer. ‘Your assessment is flawed. You will do as I say, or I will replace you with someone that will.’

  Armstrong tensed at the threat before ten more assassins materialised from the gloom. He looked at the formidable array of weaponry on show and realised that discretion was the better part of valour. ‘I thought you said they were two days’ hike away,’ Armstrong said to his lieutenant who looked suitably sheepish.

  ‘The rest of your force is,’ Ophion said, ‘but S.I.L.V.E.R. are not Terra Force.’ He turned his back on them to address his team. ‘The target is close, last sighting three miles south, south west.’

  ‘Do we proceed as planned?’ said one of the assassins.

  ‘Nothing has changed,’ Ophion said, ‘except our numbers will need replenishing when we return to the surface. The coordinates have been sent to your systems. Stay in contact, the beast will seek to isolate you.’

  Without another word, the assassins melted back into the darkness as they moved to enact their leader’s command.

  ‘They told me you were trying to capture it,’ Armstrong said, ‘I didn’t believe them.’

  Ophion turned back to fix the major with his ice cool gaze. ‘The Pharos are formidable opponents, but they are not without weakness. We will locate, subdue and return it to USSB Sanctuary, as ordered.’

  Armstrong shook his head. ‘This is madness; I want no part of it. Do you hear me? No part!’

  ‘Insanity is a perspective of thought by which you are chained.’ Ophion reached for his sword and swung it through the air with a cutting swipe. ‘Your resignation is accepted.’

  Armstrong’s eyes grew wide in shock and a red line of blood appeared around his neck. With a strangled sigh, the major’s head slid from his body as he collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap.

  The Terra Force lieutenant looked down at his decapitated superior in horror.

  Ophion resealed his mirrored visor. ‘You’ve just been promoted, soldier.’ He pressed a button on his helmet and his armoured panels shimmered into the background. ‘Ready your men, the hunt has only just begun.’

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Selene Dubois, Deputy Governor of USSB Sanctuary’s Central Bank and high ranking member of the clandestine Committee, stood to one side as Dr. Laurent inspected Malcolm Joiner’s body.

  ‘Well?’ she said.

  The doctor removed his fingers from the intelligence director’s throat and gave a nod.

  She pursed her lips. ‘How long until he wakes?’

  ‘Twenty minutes, thirty at the most.’

  ‘Good. And the device worked? His mind has been – how did Dagmar put it – rewired?’

  Dr. Laurent handed her a display screen full of data. ‘Only time will tell the extent of the transformation, but yes, it appears he will be more susceptible to your control.’

  ‘And no one else’s?’

  Laurent nodded. ‘Yes, only to you and the other Committee members present at the time of his ordeal. The greater the pain, the stronger the bond between subject and controller and he experienced great pain. According to those readouts,’ – he gestured at the device he’d given her – ‘his personality will be more submissive and obedient. Parts of him will resist, but more often than not he will seek the path of least resistance.

  ‘It is quite astounding,’ the doctor continued. ‘Director Sørensen’s mind control techniques are cutting edge. It used to take months of intensive work to manipulate a person’s mind; he’s compressed that into minutes using pain as a gateway to permanently rewrite a person’s psyche. It’s amazing, don’t you think?’

  Selene murmured her agreement before handing back the screen. ‘See to his arm.’

  Dr. Laurent bobbed his head and moved to carry out the command.

  ‘And yet the rest of his personality remains,’ a man said. ‘He will not forget this.’

  Selene turned round to see two members of the Committee standing close by.

  The man who had spoken waited for Selene to respond while his associate, a woman with glasses, gazed down at Joiner with calculating eyes.

  ‘We had to find out what he knew,’ Selene said, ‘it was agreed.’

  ‘And what he knows,’ said the man, ‘is too much. We have underestimated his resolve.’

  The woman adjusted her glasses. ‘And yet he still held back, even when faced with death.’

  ‘Which is as it should be,’ Selene said. ‘If he is to become one of us such strength of mind is necessary.’

  ‘His blood work is … unexpected,’ the man said.

  Selene glanced at the unconscious intelligence director. ‘I had my suspicions.’

  ‘And you said nothing?’

  ‘It was irrelevant.’

  ‘His characteristics are very subtle,’ the woman said, ‘except for the obvious.’

  The man nodded. ‘And yet the results speak for themselves.’

  The woman turned to him. ‘Do you think he knows?’

  ‘How could he?’

  ‘Even with his … alterations,’ Selene said, ‘if we are to keep him in check, we have to keep him close.’

  ‘Then we are in agreement?’ the man said.

  The woman considered him for a moment. ‘Yes.’

  ‘We are,’ Selene said, and held out her hand, palm up.

  The man placed his hand on hers and said, ‘From the past.’

  ‘In the present,’ the woman said, and repeated his action.

  Selene bowed her head to each of them. ‘To the future.’

  The three members of the Committee turned to look at Malcolm Joiner’s unmoving form. ‘Throughout time,’ they said in unison.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  A buzz of sound penetrated his unconscious stupor until it roused his mind into thought. What is that? he wondered. What is that infernal sound?

  Malcolm Joiner opened his eyes to see Dr. Laurent wrapping a nano-cast around his broken arm using a piece of medical apparatus. Each time the buzzing device circumnavigated his forearm another layer of fibrous wrap was applied and it was this that had awoken him.

  Dr. Laurent glanced up at him. ‘Ah, good, you’re awake, I was beginning to worry.’

  Joiner frowned, his mind a hurricane of emotion. I’m alive, was his first thought. Why? was his second. He flexed his hand.

  ‘You shouldn’t experience any long-term effects from the break,’ Dr. Laurent said, as he worked. ‘You’ve been out for nearly forty minutes. I’ve been able to set the bone and stitch the wound. You’re lucky; I’ve become quite proficient at such procedures.’

  ‘Lucky?’ Joiner felt like gouging the man’s eyes out with a fork.

  Dr. Laurent gave a nervous laugh before he glanced up to see Joiner’s expression and his mirth switched to fear.

  ‘Don’t blame the poor doctor,’ said a familiar voice.

  Joiner swivelled his head to see Selene Dubois watching him with hooded eyes.

  She walked round to stand in front of him, her heel strikes echoing throughout the grand Anakim hall. ‘You’re probably wondering why you’re still in the land of the living.’

  ‘It had crossed my mind.’

  Selene waited as Dr. Laurent placed Joiner’s arm in a sling and then, after a quick
bow in her direction, he took his leave.

  ‘We have decided,’ Selene said, ‘that your position and past duty requires an acknowledgement.’

  Joiner flexed his arm inside its sling. ‘Acknowledgement?’

  ‘Yes, you have earned the right to ascend to the next caste within the Committee.’

  ‘The next caste? I wasn’t aware I was in the first.’

  ‘You weren’t,’ Selene said, ‘you were a fourth tier member. However, recent events have ensured your ascension to the fifth caste has been approved by the Committee.’

  Joiner wondered if the injection had fried his brain as he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. ‘But before that happened, you wanted to conduct your evaluation to find out what I knew. You never had any intention of failing me.’

  ‘Oh, we would have failed you, Director, had your answers not been forthcoming, and you would have suffered as a result before being … disposed of. The Committee does not suffer duplicity within its ranks.’

  Joiner’s brow furrowed. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘Believe what you will, our actions against those beyond our walls are not indicative of the bonds within. This, in time, you will learn.’

  ‘How many of these castes are there?’

  ‘There are a variety of avenues you may take, but they all converge on the thirteenth step.’

  ‘Thirteen? And I suppose you’re on that step.’

  ‘I am of the tenth caste. Only nine may hold the uppermost position.’

  Joiner had heard of these exalted nine before; their number alluded to by another Committee member. Joiner had assumed, wrongly, that the nine people at his evaluation had been they. He didn’t know what was more galling, that he’d not warranted the attention of the upper echelons, or that he’d had no idea – no inkling at all – that he was already part of the Committee’s order. Be thankful you’re still alive, he thought, the game has just swung in your favour.

  Joiner shifted in his seat. ‘Do you submit all your members to torture?’

  ‘You may hold ill will against me,’ Selene said, ‘understandably, but that well of emotion must be channelled elsewhere if you are to continue to rise within our ranks.’

  ‘And if I refuse your offer?’

  ‘And yet you will not,’ Selene said, ‘will you, Director?’

  The tone of her voice, and a widening intensity to her eyes as she’d spoken, made Joiner pause. Does she really think I’ll just do as she says because she’s spared my life? A memory of his torture returned and with it the voice of Selene commanding him to give up his secrets. ‘You will learn to obey,’ she’d told him. ‘Listen to my voice, you will obey me.’

  Joiner then recalled the white pill the nurse had given him previously and her words or warning. ‘It will help,’ she’d said, ‘keeping your mind your own.’

  So, he thought, the pill really did work. At least as far as he could tell, it had. He still felt the same in every way, his mind was no more another’s than his thoughts were now. Of course, only a series of rigorous tests could find out for sure, but if it turned out he was free of their control, it meant he had the upper hand in a big way.

  ‘Director,’ Selene said, ‘you don’t want to refuse, do you? This is a limited time offer.’

  He gave a shake of his head as if confused. ‘No, of course not,’ he said, playing along, ‘but I’d still like to know what would happen if I declined the offer.’

  ‘You’d remain outside of our confidence.’

  Which means what? Joiner thought before his mind supplied the answer. A sudden, unexpected death when I reach the end of my usefulness. Although, he knew this might happen regardless. At least inside I can learn more, increase my reach, understand how the Committee operates and with whom.

  ‘If I accept,’ Joiner said, ‘when do I find out more? I know you seek direct control over the Subterranean Programme, but to what purpose? And what of Project Ares?’

  ‘The time for such answers is not yet at hand.’

  Joiner suppressed a surge of frustration. ‘Then why admit me?’

  ‘I understand. As Intelligence Director, and an incumbent on the GMRC’s Directorate, you are used to complete control, your power is absolute. But as a member of the Committee your external position counts for nothing. You need to earn your right to ascension and the knowledge that brings, and that right will not come easily.’

  Joiner tried to get his head round his newly acquired status as a self-aware member of the Committee, but after his recent ordeal he was having trouble processing his abrupt change in fortune, not least because those who’d been responsible for his mental and physical torment were now purporting to be his sworn kin.

  ‘You must also accept,’ Selene continued, ‘that our goals are now aligned. We must work in harmony, not discord, or the Committee, and subsequently its members, will suffer. Commit yourself to this ethic and you will find all your problems will fade away.’

  She held out her hand and helped him to his feet. ‘Come, she said, ‘walk with me.’

  Without another word she moved towards the exit and its double doors, which swung open at her approach. Joiner weighed up his options before deciding to follow.

  A moment later he’d caught up with her and they walked back through the grand atrium and into an equally immense adjoining corridor. Behind them, two armoured soldiers emerged from the shadows to accompany them at a discreet distance.

  At the end of the long passage Selene stopped before a massive panel of glass that had been installed into an opening in the side of the Anakim edifice.

  Joiner gazed out at a puzzling sight. Blue skies and blazing light stretched into the distance, while below the curvature of the twenty mile wide dome of USSB Sanctuary could be seen suspended beneath the immense ceiling of the chamber above. Where darkness should have reigned only the purest of lights remained and the vision made him question if what he was experiencing was actually real.

  ‘It is curious, don’t you think,’ Selene said, ‘that such a wonder happens now, when the world above awaits its fate in darkness?’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Joiner said, ‘how is this possible?’

  Selene glanced at him. ‘Sanctuary has awoken, its power returned.’

  ‘But how?’

  ‘We don’t know. Twenty-six hours ago a wave of energy was recorded passing through the chamber and the tunnels beyond. The base has been experiencing power failures ever since. Recent reports from the SED indicate the ceiling has activated throughout Sanctuary.’

  ‘Throughout?’ Joiner said in disbelief.

  Selene took a step forward and pressed her hand against the glass as if trying to bring herself closer to the vista’s magnificence. ‘From the past,’ she murmured.

  Joiner frowned. The Committee member suddenly seemed human, a flash of weakness in an otherwise ironclad façade. She was exposed – vulnerable. He glanced behind at the two armed guards who watched his every move. When he turned back it was to see Selene studying him.

  ‘It is time to decide, Director,’ she said. ‘We are moving through pivotal times, a new age is dawning and you can help us shape its future – if – you join us.’

  ‘What changes if I agree?’

  ‘You will be called to attend scheduled meetings and to report on the tasks allocated.’

  ‘Tasks?’

  ‘Think of them as ad hoc projects.’

  ‘Like the Steadfast deception?’

  ‘Yes, exactly,’ Selene said. ‘But since you facilitated USSB Steadfast’s destruction, that issue has been solved and we now require a more … cerebral application of your skills.’

  ‘Such as?’ he said, remaining wary.

  ‘You mentioned the hacker was inside the GMRC’s servers, we will need a full report on your findings.’

  Joiner nodded. That I can do, he thought. ‘What else?’

  ‘This event,’ – Selene gestured at the radiant Anakim ceiling – ‘we need to kno
w how the technology was activated and its implications for this base and those residing within.’

  ‘I will need to maintain control of the SED.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘and you will also need to liaise with Dagmar Sørensen.’

  Joiner looked down at his injured arm. Sørensen, he thought, the man responsible for creating the torture device. And the man behind Project Ares, he reminded himself.

  ‘Will that be a problem?’ Selene said.

  ‘No.’ Joiner looked her in the eye. ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Good – very good. Then all that remains is that you pledge yourself to the Committee and your ascension is complete.’

  ‘Pledge?’

  Selene held out her hand palm up and reached out to take his hand and placed it atop hers, palm down.

  ‘Repeat after me,’ Selene said, ‘I, Malcolm Joiner, pledge my life, heart and mind to the Committee.’

  Joiner searched her face to see if she spoke in jest, but her expression was deadly serious. ‘I, Malcolm Joiner,’ he said, ‘pledge my life, heart and mind to the Committee.’

  ‘And I will uphold and protect the Committee’s ideals, laws and tradition until the end of days.’

  ‘And I will uphold and protect the Committee’s ideals, laws and tradition until the end of days.’

  ‘And if my pledge is broken and my word is false I will endure endless torment.’

  Joiner hesitated, his eyes locked to hers. ‘And if my pledge is broken and my word is false I will endure endless torment.’

  ‘So say I,’ she said.

  ‘So say I.’

  ‘There is no going back now, Director,’ Selene said, ‘your life is ours, and ours, yours. Welcome, Malcolm Joiner,’ – she enclosed his hand within hers – ‘to the Committee.’

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Malcolm Joiner walked back through the halls of Tower Central as a newly pledged member of the Committee. His thoughts, understandably, were many, and after parting ways with Selene Dubois, he was led back to the atrium where the familiar figures of two men waited – much as he had – for an audience inside the great hall.