2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) (32 page)

As she waited, Brett looked around for suitable cabling with which to secure her prisoners-to-be.

After some moments a bleep from the portable computer brought a jubilant raised fist from the young German. ‘
Ja, er ist hier!
’

Brett moved closer.

‘He’s replied,’ Jessica said and handed her the display.

The screen had two lines of text on it and the second ended with a flashing cursor.

Bic, where are you? We need your help. We’ve made contact with an FBI Agent called Brett Taylor. I assume you meant for us to meet, however she doesn’t believe what we say. She needs convincing! Jessica

I am here, Jessica Klein. Tell her to speak into the device _

Brett glanced at Jessica and Eric, who watched her in anticipation. She knew she had to choose her words with care; this individual was dangerous and highly intelligent. From what she’d read about him in the past, he could lead those that followed his demands on a merry dance; and it was assumed B.I.C. was a
him
from profiling carried out by the NSA and FBI.

She cleared her throat. ‘B.I.C., Bic, what is it you want from me?’

Eric has shown you the footage of your father? _

‘Yes. Why did you send those files to my boss?’
she said, failing to keep the anger from her voice. ‘And where did you get them from?’

Forgive me, Brett Taylor, but I did warn you of the consequences of ignoring my request _

‘That’s bullshit and you know it. How could you ever expect me to resign on the back of a phone call from a stranger? In fact, you knew that, didn’t you? You were going to sell me out regardless.’

The terrorist failed to respond. Then letters appeared, chasing the cursor across the screen.

I see there is no fooling you, Brett Taylor. You are correct. That is why I was left with no choice. You are crucial to our plans; the preservation of the species is at stake _

Brett glanced at her audience of two. ‘So they tell me. Why me
exactly
?’

Why? Because you are a fully qualified and experienced FBI agent, and also because you saw your father’s armour. You interacted both with him and his superior, Professor George Steiner; this makes you much more able to accept the truth we tell you. You may also have vital information that can help us. Anything they said to you, or to each other, could be priceless clues as to the secrets they hold _

‘Hang on; I thought you knew their secrets? The stockpiles are depleted, underground bases, death to us all.’

You don’t sound convinced, Brett Taylor _

‘I am,’ – she berated herself for her lapse; she had to try and keep up the pretence of belief – ‘but I’m still sceptical, I admit. That’s why I wanted to speak to you, to improve my understanding. The more I learn, the more I can accept. So, what other information is the government and GMRC hiding from us?’

I am unsure. I only know my computations do not add up. Something is missing. We need to know more so we can act appropriately. Jessica Klein needs to save her family, she must have the full knowledge of the GMRC’s cover-up otherwise she may put her family in greater risk than they are now, her daughters Daniela and Victoria are counting on her, as is her husband, Evan _

Photos of the disgraced BBC newsreader and her family scrolled across the screen, and Brett looked at Jessica. She knew what Bic was trying to do, elicit sympathy and make Jessica’s plight more real. It would have worked had Brett not been trained to be emotionally detached, to inspect the facts as they presented themselves. It also helped that she could be a cold-hearted bitch, or so she’d been told by some of her old partners, both romantic
and
professional.

‘They did say something that made me think,’ Brett said, knowing truth mixed with lies strengthened her hand.

And what was that, Brett Taylor? _

‘There were actually two things. One must relate to your theory on the resources. Colonel Samson, my dear father, told me I was making a mistake; he said my life was in danger.’ Brett gauged the expressions of Jessica and Eric as she spoke. ‘And I believe your two colleagues here think the colonel is dead, but you and I know differently, don’t we, Bic?’

Jessica and Eric looked stunned by the news and Bic’s response took some time to appear.

You are sharper than I thought, Brett Taylor. What gave me away? _

It was just a hunch on Brett’s part, but she wasn’t going to tell Bic that.
Let him stew
, she thought. It would also sow seeds of discontent between him and his two followers. ‘I’ll leave that for you to work out.’

And the second thing they said? _

‘This is what the old man – Professor Steiner, as you call him – said. He and Samson were arguing and he said, ‘
You don’t care about anything, that’s the problem. You murder innocent people like slaughtering cattle and disobey my direct orders, effectively condemning hundreds of thousands of civilians to a premature death
.’

Interesting. Hundreds of thousands, not millions, or billions, you are sure that is what he said? _

‘Yes, that’s exactly as he said it. Is it helpful?’

Perhaps _

Brett took that as a yes. ‘So, Bic, how are we supposed to find out what else the GMRC is up to? My father has been spirited away. Unless you know where he is?’ Her heart raced as she waited to see if her second hunch paid off.

I do not, Brett Taylor. However, we do not need your father _

‘And why’s that?’

Why interrogate the pawn when you can petition the king? _

‘What?’

I must go, Brett Taylor. I look forward to speaking to you again _

‘What? No, wait!’ The screen went dark and Brett swore.

Eric accepted the device back off her and Brett pondered the cyber terrorist’s final words.

Jessica moved closer. ‘What do you think now?’

‘I don’t know, but—’ A thought struck her and she turned to face the corpse that lay unmoving in its black bag.

Jessica came to stand by her side and looked down at the old man. ‘All our questions will soon be within reach.’

‘The king—’ Brett whispered.

‘—was dead,’ Jessica said, ‘long live the king.’

TERMINOLOGY / MAP

USSB – United States Subterranean Base

GMRC – Global Meteor Response Council

Darklight – World’s largest private security contractor

SFSD – Special Forces Subterranean Detachment (
Terra Force
)

SED – Sanctuary Exploration Division

Deep Reach – Special survey team working within the SED

S.I.L.V.E.R. – An elite military unit available to the highest bidder

Sanctuary Proper – Ancient underground structure built by an extinct species of Hominid, Homo giganthropsis (the Anakim)

[For easy reference this page is duplicated in the final Appendix and is also listed as the last entry in the
Table of Contents
]

Chapter Thirty Eight

Deep in the bowels of the Earth the Anakim creation sprawled, layer upon layer of chambers, tunnels, caves, cliffs and crevasses. So vast was this underground world, the surface area of its many levels was said to equal half that of all the land mass on Earth. Stretching for hundreds of miles north to south and east to west, Sanctuary also cut a swathe into the Earth’s crust thirty miles straight down, its lowest fringes rubbing shoulders with the molten rock of the mantle itself.

Nestling in one of the largest chambers, small in comparison to the whole, but immense in its own right, was a hidden city that comprised hundreds of soaring towers that stood silent and still in the pitch-black. To the east of this abandoned dwelling full of long forgotten ghosts, the surface of a deep, cold subterranean lake rippled as something briefly broke its calm. Fanning out in procession from this disturbance, telltale expanding circles announced the presence of something lurking beneath to anyone or anything that had borne witness. A mile away at the shore’s distant edge, a few thousand men and women toiled under floodlights powered by high-tech, water fuelled generators. The sound of shouting and chatter created by teamwork filled the air as the desperate refugees from Steadfast sought to feed themselves and their brethren from the plentiful fish stocks of Sanctuary seeded millennia past. To the south of this hive of activity, separated by a dark void of featureless ground, was a makeshift camp that had become home to the thirty thousand people that had found themselves trapped inside Sanctuary Proper.

Amongst the scarce lighting rigs and small tents, a central command post had been erected, its fabric construction now a permanent structure as necessity dictated. Above this material that undulated against a silent breeze, flew the proud sigil of the world’s largest private security firm:

Inside the shelter a number of armoured, black clad soldiers carried out their duties which included the day to day running of the site. Food and water had to be allocated and dispensed while the mounting medical woes of the residents required careful maintenance. Such was their isolation from civilisation – be that from the seemingly unobtainable location of the USSB, or the surface itself – supplies had all but run dry.

A soldier walked into the outpost and approached the small form of a woman who stood pouring over a computer screen and a set of complicated looking graphs. He handed her a document. Glancing at its contents she looked up in alarm. ‘That’s the second person this week.’

‘Yes, ma’am, he had a rare heart condition and his drug supply ran out a month back.’

‘And there was nothing we could do?’

‘Not with the resources we have.’

Dr. Kara Vandervoort sighed and looked back at the image of the person who had died. Arnold McIntyre, the name read underneath, a twenty-four year old civilian who’d worked in the command centre back at USSB Steadfast. She wondered if he’d left any family behind on the surface prior to his inclusion in the GMRC’s Subterranean Programme. Was there someone waiting for Arnold to return to them? Was his disappearance from their life as unexplained as the work he’d been tasked to carry out?

Cover stories for all personnel inducted into any USSB had always been part of the transition from the surface; however, some people suited the upheaval more than others. Due to the nature and location of their work, civilians and U.S. military personnel alike had to pass rigorous physical, medical and physiological tests in order to enter the Subterranean Programme, but some, due to the nature of the skills they could bring to the table, had been given special dispensation for the good of the project. And it was these unfortunate souls who were the first to pay the price for their underground marooning.

It was at these low moments that Kara wished her doctorate wasn’t in biomechanical engineering, the science of her learning of no help to those that suffered. All she could do was concentrate on what she was good at, which was the management of others and the analysis of data, providing those that battled on with the most efficient means by which to live.

She ran a hand through her browning locks, the blond dye all but grown out. ‘Does Richard know?’

‘The Director is still in the city,’ the soldier said.

Kara muttered a curse. Ever since the
light creature
, or
entity
as some called it, had killed three Darklight soldiers and spirited away one of their number – a young disabled woman – the man she’d grown to love had succumbed to a malady of his mind’s own creation. The warnings had been there in the past that he was susceptible to such a collapse in reasoning, but she had thought they were minor aberrations despite his protestations to the contrary. Now, though, she saw his tenure in the dark abyss had finally taken its toll as he’d once prophesised, the trauma of recent events driving him over the edge. He still claimed to be rational, but Kara could see through the illusion of purpose he’d created for himself.