End of Days (21 page)

Walking along the corridor he silently recited his favourite passage from the Bible—the Psalm 23. When he came to “
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,”
he smiled. The underground passages in the complex were like little valleys, and certainly evil was all around him, but he had no fear or doubts. He knew what he was doing was right. More than right, it was
sacred
.

Looking down at his watch, Markell was pleased to see that he still had plenty of time. There was enough time to get to his office, do a bit of work, and then make up an excuse to get close to the control room, where they’d all be working. Even though he had no real reason to be there, he knew that as long as his good friend, the
illustrious
Professor Daniel Sheppard, was there he wouldn’t be stopped. Good old Sheppard, his buddy, his friend … or at least as close to a friend as anybody here could be anymore. A little part of him felt bad about what was going to happen, but really, he was doing Sheppard a favour. He was doing
all
of them a favour.

He knew that Daniel wasn’t evil, just misguided, taken in by the false god of science. But in that way he was breaking the First Commandment—
“Thou shalt have no other gods before me”
—and the Second Commandment—
“Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in Heaven above, or that is in the Earth beneath, or that is in the water under the Earth.”
The spaceships had become objects of worship, as people looked up into the heavens and saw only them and not God.

They would have to be punished for violating two of the Ten Commandments … although he
himself
was breaking both the Eighth and the Sixth Commandments: he had stolen the materials to make his bomb—
“Thou shalt not steal”
—and he was going to use that bomb to take lives—
“Thou shalt not kill.”

It perplexed him, the fact that in order to fulfill his destiny he would have to break Commandments, but he
knew in his heart that he was right. He was allowed to break two Commandments because
they
had broken two Commandments … well, at least they had broken two Commandments according to the Orthodox Christian faith, while both Roman Catholics and Jews combined those two into the First Commandment, so really they’d broken only one Commandment. But that one was the
First
Commandment, which had to be more important than the two that he was breaking or they would have been listed first, because you always listed the most important first, and … his mind went into another crazy series of circles. He forced himself to stop.

He couldn’t let the logic of it get in the way … that was how the Devil worked—getting inside your head and filling it with bad information, distorting your thoughts, allowing the false god of logic to overwhelm your heart and your soul. He wouldn’t let that happen.

He’d worked through his plans so many times before that if he closed his eyes he would be able to see the entire scenario playing out. Of course he wouldn’t close his eyes, for fear that somebody would think he was praying.

Dozens of times, almost every day over the last few months, he’d done exactly what he was going to be doing today. That wasn’t just for practice—it was also establishing a pattern of behaviour. The security forces looked for people breaking patterns as one of the tipoffs to potential problems. He smiled. If he
didn’t
go to the control room today they might think that was a break in his pattern. He was just going to do what he always did.

He generally brought Daniel a tea, and the two of them would make pleasant conversation for a few minutes before going their separate ways—Daniel to lead and Markell sent off to the wilderness … not unlike Moses wandering the wilderness … and they had both found the signs they were looking for. There would be only one small difference today: Markell was not just bringing his friend a tea. Today he had three kilograms of explosives strapped to his chest.

Markell had prayed for guidance to help him choose the right time to act. For the last two weeks he had woken up every morning wondering if today was the day. Each day he’d waited for a sign, but none had come. The members of his support group had urged him to take action before it was too late. In three days’ time the ships would be positioned around the asteroid and the signal would be sent to trigger the detonation.

He could feel sweat dripping down his sides. His initial fear was that somehow the moisture would cause the device to malfunction or short out, but he knew he couldn’t sweat that badly … could he? It didn’t help that he was wearing an extra layer of clothing today to disguise the subtle outline of the explosive vest. At least the lining would also hide the sweat dripping down his sides … but not the sweat on his face.

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. His jacket … not only was he still wearing it but it was still done up. There was no reason why he’d be wearing a zipped-up jacket in the tunnel. Anxiously he started to take it off.

“Excuse me!” a loud voice called out from behind.

He turned around. There was a guard walking briskly toward him. Somebody else must have noticed the jacket and become suspicious. Would a stupid jacket prevent him from fulfilling his mission?

He reached into his pocket. Inside was a small gun made entirely of plastic so that it wouldn’t trigger the metal detectors. The guard came closer and closer.

“Dr. Markell!” the guard called out.

The guard was now only a couple of metres away. Markell pulled out the gun. The guard’s expression changed to shock and then to fear as Markell pulled the trigger and the hard plastic bullet slammed into and through the guard’s chest.

He dropped the gun to the ground—there was only the one bullet—and started to run. The control room was just up ahead. He wouldn’t be able to get through the last checkpoint to enter, but if he got close enough the power of the explosives might damage the room, or kill or incapacitate some of the people inside, and—

A bullet ripped into his shoulder with such force that he was spun around and thrown to the ground. He heard footsteps and raised voices. They were coming. There was only one more thing to do.

“
Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven,”
he said softly. Then he pushed the button.

There was a bustle in the control room. Everybody had a job to do and each job was important. Most people in the room wondered how an operation this important, this critical,
could so suddenly and secretly have been moved up by three days. In less than thirty minutes they would be sending the signals to arm the nuclear devices and trigger detonation.

Sheppard, and no more than a score of others, knew that this wasn’t a sudden change; it had been the original schedule all along. They had strategically announced the later date to provide misinformation to possible saboteurs. They justifiably feared that Judgment Day would move full force over those last days to attempt to stop them—their last chance to stop those who were trying to stop the asteroid.

Over the past month, acts of sabotage and terrorism had become more common and intense. Judgment Day followers were no longer attacking only chemical and industrial complexes or power plants—they were now attacking libraries, universities, and individuals who appeared to possibly be scientists or technicians or intellectuals. There had been rumours of people being targeted for death simply because they’d been seen carrying books or wearing glasses. Knowledge was to be feared, and anything or anybody who might possess knowledge was a potential target.

There was a strange symmetry to these attacks. The extremists were taking their orders from religious documents that dated back close to three thousand years, and now, having attacked so many of the pillars of modern civilization, they had driven society back almost to that point in time.

Sheppard couldn’t help but think how misguided these attacks had been. If they had launched a coordinated attack on the basic elements of civilization—chemicals, steel,
production and power plants—in the very beginning, perhaps they could have stopped the ships from being produced and launched.

When it was almost too late, they had got smart and carried out a systematic attack on the industries responsible for the production of rocket fuel, destroying all the relevant facilities, but not before the agency had stockpiled enough to launch twenty or thirty ships. Now it was too late … well, too late to do anything except attack the people and places responsible for triggering the explosions. Sheppard and his colleagues sat at the epicentre of that possibility, and they weren’t the only ones who knew that.

Outside their walls gigantic rallies were nearly constant now. Protesters surrounded the complexes and attempted to enter and disrupt the process. And in order to deal with those people the security forces had become even more ruthless. Sheppard didn’t know—he didn’t even
want
to know—how many tens of thousands of people had been killed to keep the complex, and him, safe.

Most troubling had been the internal acts of violence. People who had been trusted colleagues for years had turned and committed some of the most horrendous attacks. So far most attempts had been foiled, with only a minimal loss of life, but still … how close had they come?

A booming sound, loud but muffled, filled the control room. For a second or two everyone stopped working and turned, looking for the source. Then, with their work not completed and time running down, they went back to their tasks as if nothing had happened. But what was it?

Sheppard’s work was now more symbolic than real. He was present more as a spectator than a participant, so he had more time to be curious. He looked for Parker, but he and four of the other security officers were huddled in a corner, talking into their cuffs, getting word from the outside. There was no way to read anything from their actions or expressions. They always acted calmly, always had a look of cold, quiet disinterest on their faces.

Slowly, deliberately, Sheppard got up from his seat and started to angle around the room. He knew that Parker wouldn’t say anything while he was in the company of the other security officers, but Sheppard was in a position to
order
him to provide an update for him. Not that they worked that way. Besides, he didn’t want to be too obvious.

He pretended he was watching the work being done around him, looking down at screens and control panels, but really he was just waiting for his moment to approach Parker. The four other men split off, going back to their observation spots, two at the main doors and the other two on opposite walls.

Sheppard moved to Parker’s side.

“What was that sound?” he asked, not looking at Parker directly.

“It’s under control.”

“That wasn’t my question. What happened?”

Parker stared straight ahead—at least that was what Sheppard assumed, as his eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses. “I don’t have full details as yet.”

“What do you have?” Sheppard insisted.

“One man … internal … we think working in isolation.”

“Is he being questioned?”

“I think they’re still trying to locate all his body parts right now,” Parker said.

“Oh … I didn’t know. Were there other deaths?”

“Six that we know of. Apparently he shot one of our security officers, and then two other officers and three civilians were killed by the blast.”

“Do we know who he is … was?”

“No positive DNA ID as yet, but from the security steps he cleared and the videotapes we are fairly certain he was a scientist working with level-four clearance.”

There were over ten thousand people working in the complex, but not many with a level of clearance that high. This was troubling in two ways—because somebody that high up had turned, but also because he was somebody Sheppard almost certainly would have known personally.

“Who was it?” Sheppard asked.

“We don’t have DNA confirmation as—”

“I want to know who you
think
it was.” He turned to look directly at Parker. “Right now.”

Parker nodded. “Andrew Markell.”

Sheppard felt as if somebody had punched him in the stomach. “It can’t be … can it?”

“We’re certain enough for me to tell you.”

“But why … would he do it? Why?”

“He always operated outside of established patterns and organizations, and he felt alienated from the process. He
would represent a potential for such behaviour. That’s why he was under surveillance. At the time of his interception he was going to his office, but most certainly he would have gone on to the control room, as he did each morning.”

Sheppard’s shock suddenly morphed into fear. That muffled explosion was meant for here, meant for
him
and the men who surrounded him.

“Dr. Sheppard!”

He looked up. Every single person in the control room was looking at him.

“Dr. Sheppard,” the dispatcher said, “do we have permission to send the signal, to arm and activate the devices?”

Sheppard’s mind spun. He knew that they were waiting for him to give them permission to set the detonation sequence in motion. That’s why he was in the control room. That’s why he was right here in the room today and everybody was looking at him, waiting for him.

He took a deep breath and slowed down his racing pulse as best he could. He knew he could just say, “Yes, do it,” but that wasn’t what this occasion required, what was expected. Each of the people in this room was looking to him to say something that would mark this occasion, a defining moment in the history of the planet. He had thought of things, big and small, quotes and long-winded speeches. He wasn’t going to offer any of those. Instead, he was going to rely on the words of a captain in an old TV show, a show about space.

He held up his hand and pointed a finger. “Make it so.”

Most of the room burst into applause, and then the technicians set the sequence in motion by sending the signal.

Travelling at 300,000 kilometres per second, the speed of light, the signal raced across the solar system. Even at that speed it would take nine hours and thirty-six minutes to reach the ships. A further twenty minutes would pass to allow all the devices to be armed and readied. And then a synchronized explosion would take place. The light from that explosion would then travel the same distance, taking the same length of time to return to Earth. In slightly less than nineteen hours and thirty-two minutes they’d see the result of their actions. The world would see it.