The Lucifer Code (25 page)

Accosta gave him a pitying smile. The smile of someone who is so certain of a belief that the more you argue rationally and coherently against it, the more they become convinced of your blindness and their insight into the truth. 'I understand from Dr Soames that you're concerned about your brother, that he has a soul and he might still be suffering. I believe it's a valid concern, Dr Fleming. But whatever I tell you about his fate, or the fate that awaits you, is irrelevant because I belong to a Church in which you have no faith. But after the Day of the Soul Truth I'll convert you, just as I'll convert everyone else, regardless of their current beliefs. I'll prove to you that I alone know the truth about what happens to the soul after death.'

'How on earth will you do that?'

'Because I will no longer be on this earth when I prove it,' Accosta said calmly.

Before Fleming could absorb this, Soames stepped forward and patted him on the back. 'I can't see what you're so upset about, Miles,' he said. 'You got what you asked for. You came here to find out about your brother and in due course you will. In fact, I'd planned it as a surprise. There's no need for this ugliness.'

Fleming looked at him: the man had had a component removed. Somewhere along the line, during his mixed-up life, he had had what amounted to an empathy bypass. Fleming spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable. 'Bradley, you abducted and experimented on Amber, murdered her mother and a hundred other people for some half-baked crazy scheme, and you deceived me along the way. And yet you wonder why we're angry'

'Yes, I do.'

Fleming shrugged, as if in defeat, and gave Soames a broad, apologetic grin. 'You're right, I overreacted.' Still smiling, he clenched his right hand into a fist, tensed his shoulder and punched Soames as hard as he could in the face. The guards were slow to react but the wolves were on him in seconds, their damp feral smell stifling him as they covered his body. The larger one clawed at his arm as he tried to protect his throat.

'Call them off!' the Red Pope shouted. 'There's no need for any more violence.'

Grudgingly Soames issued an unintelligible command and the wolves backed away. Amber reached for Fleming's arm - the claw's had left only a scratch.

As the guards moved to escort him and Amber from the room, Fleming took some satisfaction from the anger in Soames's eyes as he gingerly touched his chin. As they passed him, Amber turned and spat in his red, contorted face.

'I can't see what you're so upset about, Bradley' Fleming said, 'You got what you asked for.'

'What are you going to do with them?' Accosta asked Soames, once Amber and Fleming had left.

Soames was nursing his jaw; 'Keep them out of the way until the big day, Your Holiness. We cannot allow them to jeopardize the preparations.'

Accosta tried in vain to read his expression. He wanted to believe that the reason Soames had poured so much of his money, time and intellectual resources into this grand scheme was solely because of his faith in God and his conviction that Accosta was His chosen minister. But even now the Red Pope was unsure of Soames's true motives. 'I don't want them harmed, Bradley' he said carefully, 'not before the Day of the Soul Truth and not after it. Is that clear?'

Soames frowned, like an awkward adolescent who can't comprehend why he is being lectured on something that has nothing to do with him.

'We've almost reached our sacred goal and I've you to thank for that,' Accosta continued. 'Regrettable actions were necessary to reach this moment. But after the Day of the Soul Truth there should be no cause for violence or disagreement. Is that understood?'

'Of course, Your Holiness.'

Accosta turned to the others. He understood them better. Carvelli was vain and shallow, but he had served the church unquestioningly. Knight was a true believer, who didn't trumpet her faith but shared Accosta's turmoil when it came to making difficult moral decisions to fulfil God's will. And Monsignor Diageo had always been his right hand, his rock. Soon their loyal service would be rewarded. Soon they would be able to bathe in the warm certainty that they had contributed to something righteous and wonderful. 'Dr Soames has expressed his desire to remain here for the Day of the Soul Truth, out of the spotlight,' he said.

'And the sunlight,' Soames said.

Accosta smiled understandingly. 'The rest of us shall return now to the Red Ark and make our preparations.'

They looked sad but Accosta said, 'Don't be so downcast. This is not an end but a beginning. Rejoice with me. We're on the brink of a golden age of enlightenment.'

A sweet smile illuminated Virginia Knight's troubled features. 'Yes, Your Holiness, it'll be a glorious day' she said.

'Glorious,' echoed Diageo.

Carvelli was more expansive. 'The Day of the Soul Truth will be a revelation.'

Soames nodded as if in agreement. 'It will indeed be the day of Revelation, Your Holiness -or, as the Greeks would say, the day of the Apocalypse.'

*

The blue sector.

Two days later

'It doesn't look much now,' Soames said as he led Fleming and Amber into the virtual reality suite housed within the blue sector, 'but you wait. You haven't been in here before, Amber, have you? It's something VenTec have been developing with KREE8 Industries.' Amber refused to meet Soames's gaze. She still found it difficult to accept the extent of his betrayal, to reconcile the man who had abducted her and authorized her mother's murder with the man she had respected and admired for years. And obviously this is a first for you as well, Miles,' Soames said. His face was still swollen and the contusion drew attention to a fresh scab on his already scarred chin, but his anger had gone. The events of thirty-six hours ago might never have happened.

But Fleming's anger, like hers, was still alive. Ignoring the two security guards hovering inches behind him, he didn't acknowledge Soames. Fleming and she each wore a deep blue, skin-tight bodysuit, gloves and slippers with sensor pads. The blue smart fabric was made up of thousands of microscopic beads, like pixels on a computer monitor. Soames and the two guards were similarly attired.

The room itself was a large but unprepossessing space. The floor, walls and ceiling were the same deep blue as the bodysuits. The floor felt solid, and she guessed that, along with the walls and ceiling, it was a high-resolution screen. In the centre of the room were three rows of two seats. 'Since this is going to be essentially a spectator experience I thought we should be comfortable,' Soames said, ushering them to the two front seats. The guards sat behind them and Soames at the back. Soames had a palm-top computer in his left hand and tapped the touch screen with his right. 'How shall we dress?' Soames said. 'Formal, I think.'

Immediately the blue suits were transformed. Fleming was in a dinner suit, complete with bow-tie, and she wore a strapless black dress. Amazingly the area of bare flesh on her arms looked real and her hands were apparently no longer in blue gloves. Moreover, her hands didn't feel as if they were wearing gloves. If she looked very hard and moved her hand quickly against the blue backdrop she could just about see the joins, but when Soames transformed the room she was transported to another place and the illusion was seamless.

Now she and Fleming sat in the front row of a vast congregation, in an auditorium that resembled a cross between a theatre and a cathedral. Columns flanked both sides, like a nave, and ahead there was a stage. Overhead there wasn't so much a vaulted ceiling as the illusion of a sunlit sky dotted with puffy white cumulus clouds. At any moment Amber expected cherubim and seraphim to appear. There was a balmy freshness in the air and, bewitched by the surroundings, she surrendered herself to the guilty frisson of excitement. She recognized the cathedral on the Red Ark from her VR excursion at the hospice.

Over the last two days, grieving for her mother and trying to come to terms with her death, she had sought distraction by watching television in her secure quarters. Constant news coverage from CNN and the BBC had explained the Day of the Soul Truth and she now understood the breathtaking arrogance of what they had planned. But, try as she might, she could not understand their strange alliance. She had known Soames for years and had never seen any evidence of a religious streak in him. The idea of him serving or following Accosta was ludicrous. Soames only associated with people who could serve him, never the other way round.

A murmur rippled through the audience, like wind through a field of barley, then a tall figure in red entered from the left and stood in the centre of the stage. Watching Accosta's self-satisfied smile, she was determined that he and Soames would pay for what they had done. She didn't know how or when, but they would pay.

Turning her head she caught Fleming's eye, and her courage swelled when she saw her own determination reflected there.

*

The Red Ark. 18deg 55' N, 16deg 99' W

Xavier Accosta had never felt more alive than he did now, minutes from death. Standing on the dais in his cathedral aboard the Red Ark he gazed out at the physical audience of little more than a hundred. Invitations to attend his service aboard the ark were randomly despatched to a few among the millions of e-mail addresses of his registered followers, depending on their location at the time. This practice hadn't changed for the Day of the Soul Truth, although a limited number of special invitations were sent out to the major religions. Interestingly, not one declined. All had sent a senior delegate, no doubt to witness and subsequently deconstruct whatever took place.

Accosta had heard that many of those lucky enough to be attending today had been offered thousands, even millions, by media representatives and wealthy individuals to attend in person. He was gratified that few, if any, had sold their ringside seats to this turning-point in human history. But the physical audience was only a fraction of the true audience. According to Carvelli, the numbers watching on virtual headsets, Internet screens and television exceeded four billion - 90 per cent of the wired world. Carvelli had been right. This was the biggest media event in history.

Before the main event, Accosta presided over a short service in which he paid tribute to all his dedicated followers and extended his blessing to all of those watching, regardless of their faith. Then, barely pausing for breath, the Red Pope raised his arms, summoned all the remaining power in his diseased body and spoke to the world: 'Today I am going on a journey. Many have gone before me on this journey from life to death, and in due course every one of you will follow me. It is unfortunate that dying is the last thing we ever do, because it could teach us so much about living. But this final journey still remains a mystery to us all.

'The uncertainty about what happens to our souls after death lies at the heart of religion, with every creed demanding that its followers believe exclusively in its view of the afterlife. Each -including the Church of the Soul Truth - demands this, based on nothing more than an act of faith.

'Two thousand years ago a man was crucified for our sins. The man we Christians believe was the Son of God came to live among us and tried to help us go beyond faith to see the truth. But even then many were blind to his lessons. His parables and teachings were interpreted in ambiguous ways, and only a few saw him or his miracles with their own eyes. Even his death and resurrection were inconclusive to all but true believers.

'Today I won't preach to you. I don't want you to believe in me or have faith in God. I will show you the truth - all of you. You will all see my resurrection with your own eyes and hear my truth with your own ears.

'I have been chosen as God's second messiah to die and be reborn, so that I can stand astride both worlds, one foot beside God and the other beside you, my fellow man. Today I, Cardinal Xavier Accosta, will blunt Satan's horns by removing for ever from your hearts the spiritual doubt that the Devil exploits to create conflict and evil. After today there will no longer be any excuse for yielding to Satan's temptation, because you will know that God, your true God, exists.

'At the end of my journey today, I will return to share the secrets of life and death with you. I will reveal to you the Soul Truth and, with this act of sacrifice, I will gain salvation for your soul and the souls of all humanity'

When he finished there was no applause, just a hushed, awed silence.

Diageo and Virginia Knight appeared beside him and escorted him to the left of the stage, to where Bukowski and Tripp were waiting by the couch and the apparatus.

Diageo had tears in his eyes when he helped Accosta lie down on the laboratory couch that would be his deathbed. 'Don't be sad, my friend,' Accosta whispered. 'I'm not leaving you. By doing this I will stay with you for eternity'

Diageo tried to smile as Knight placed the electrode on Accosta's temple with trembling hands.

Bukowski came then and gently pegged open his eyes, before inserting the dye and the lenses. His eyes stung but he told himself that soon his pain would be gone. Soon he would be filled with peace and joy as he bathed in the love of God.

Tripp helped raise Accosta's upper body and placed the glass sphere over his head.

Then Carvelli appeared from the left of the stage, beside the bank of sound equipment and the KREE8 holopad. He double-checked with Tripp that the wireless interface between the NeuroTranslator and the other equipment was operational. Then he scrutinized the cameras and media equipment. The audience watched their methodical movements with awestruck reverence.