Automatically, he staggered to his feet and headed towards an ornamental chair. There was some familiar looking clothes on the chair and automatically grabbed them. Will watched himself in the mirror as he got dressed, left foot-right foot and jeans on, left arm-right arm and shirt on.
There was a strange disconnect between what he was doing and what he was seeing, like a time lag. Will didn’t know that he was acting unconsciously. Soon, he was sitting in his car with his seatbelt on and the keys dangling in the ignition. He tried to think hard about how he got there but the more he strained, the more his head throbbed.
Will turned the key and his car rumbled to life. The engine roared as it sped away down the street. Now, he was driving and heading out of the city. Again, he tried hard to think but it was useless. Will didn’t feel like he was in control of himself as the car moved swiftly along.
He tried to get his bearings but his brain wouldn’t respond. It was though he was a passenger in his own body. Second-left, third right, straight ahead, the dual carriageway soon blended into the motorway. Lights glistened off the metallic sheen of the car’s body until there were no more streetlights.
Eventually, Will reached the countryside and the quiet ambience of the dark, rural roads. He could sense the peacefulness but his hands and body had become alienated. Vainly, he tried to understand why he couldn’t stop himself.
Will felt his foot press down on the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a halt and saw his hand switching off the engine. With his head still thumping, he hopelessly strained to fathom his whereabouts as he exited the car obediently.
An orchestra of waves crashed and whooshed unceremoniously against the coastline. Will could see the moonlight reflecting off the murky waters and the scent of the salty sea air permeated up his nostrils.
Will’s legs moved, as if walking under instruction but not his. The soft sands compressed under his footsteps and the cool breeze brushed through the mounds of long grass. In the dark background, he heard the sounds of wildlife chattering into the night.
When he heard a deep slow-pitched droning echoing through his eardrums, Will turned his head and looked-up. There was a vast spherical object hugging the night skies, like a giant white ball.
There was a strange board with black and yellow border, attached to some heavy metal fencing. Somewhere in his mind, it seemed familiar to Will but he couldn’t make the connection. Will had a faint notion that he’d been to this place before but again he felt detached.
Once again, an irritating alarm pinged-away ceaselessly somewhere deep inside Will’s skull. Suddenly, his body went limp and he fell softly to the ground. As the darkness entered his mind, the last thing Will heard was the calm swishing of the North Sea hitting the coast.
The three people watched the CCTV monitors closely, their gazes fixed in fascination at the body lying sound asleep near his silver car. An elderly man named Albert Stanley was fascinated, as he watched with his typically analytical manner.
He wore a lab technician’s coat, which hung from his thin body loosely and thick horn-rimmed glasses. Albert had a weather-beaten face and eyes, which indicated a highly educated man, who’d seen plenty in his life. He spoke first, “A successful trial, wouldn’t you say, sir?” he said triumphantly.
“Yes Albert, I would,” said the man standing next to him. “How are the boy’s vitals?”
“All fine, sir!” responded Albert matter-of-factly. He was still staring at the screens, “Heart rate, blood pressure, brain functions indicate no mental trauma or irregular physiological responses.”
“Good! Very good,” said the other man smugly. “That thing’s been inside his body for a very long time Albert. We needed a live test on the subject to ensure the microchip would work when the time was right.”
The young woman who’d been sitting behind them protested, “Test subject!” she said in disgust. “Is that what you’re calling him?”
Albert and the man who was now sitting alongside him exchanged looks. The man then turned to the young woman and looked at her indifferently. “What about degradation?” he asked, as he turned back to Albert.
“Minor degradation, sir,” replied Albert. “Those biotech guys really came up trumps with that device,” he added.
The man allowed himself a triumphant, self-righteous smile, “They’ll be pleased hear that Albert,” he said. “It’s vital the backup plan is ready to go at a moment’s notice, if all else fails.”
“I’ve never seen technology that sophisticated before,” said the young woman curiously. “How does it work Albert?” she asked.
“It’s a microscopic neural implant that’s based around Nano-technology,” he replied zealously. “The Bio-technicians encased it in an alloy composed of cobalt, chromium and molybdenum.”
“The kind normally used for hip-replacements,” added the man. “It was essential that the uh, host body didn’t reject it,” he said tentatively, so as not to set-off the young woman. “It was injected into the boy when he was very young.”
“He’s had that thing in him for twenty years?” asked the woman.
“Yes, but we still needed to be cautious” said the man, as he stood up. “A low amp voltage could short it.”
“Don’t you have any regard for Will at all?” asked the young woman contemptuously.
The man ran his hands through his hair tiredly. He was a little over six feet, in his early fifties and had dark hair with distinct traces of grey. Despite the age-lines across his face, he looked physically fit.
He approached the woman with the presence of a lion, emphasizing his power but he was not aggressive. “My dear, you, Albert and I are all smaller cogs of a much bigger picture,” he said firmly. “We all have a part to play and so does the boy, even if it’s not consenting,” he glared at her intimidatingly.
She stood her ground, “Do we have to use him like some human guinea pig?” she asked compassionately. “Isn’t there another way?”
The man held her face with some empathy, “You of all people already know the answer to that,” he said. “You must hold your nerve my dear. I know the two of you have gotten close.”
Maya Walker sighed, as she bowed her head ashamed. She wasn’t sure if it was because of weakness or love. She rested her chin on her fist and became lost in her thoughts. The man was still talking but she wasn’t listening anymore.
“This is an assignment just like any other and you mustn’t reveal your true nature to under any circumstances ever, clear?” he said. “Are we clear?” commanded the man.
“Crystal!” replied Maya, betraying her frustration. “You understand that this is a difficult assignment for me, yes?” she asked.
Cameron Cox looked at her and nodded grimly. However, he needed to maintain the pretence of his death and it was important Will shared that belief. Albert, who was now looking away from the CCTV monitor, was shifting his eyes from Cameron to Maya repeatedly. He looked like a wise old owl as he sighed, before he turned back to watch Will still asleep on the ground.
Maya changed the subject, “How is my dear father?” she asked.
“Nathan? He’s well,” replied Cameron. “He’s somewhere in the country but he’s working on a different project. Didn’t he send you a card?” he asked facetiously.
“Not this time!” said Maya, as she headed towards the door. “Tell him I said ‘hi’.”
“Of course!” said Cameron. “Where are you going?”
“I’d better get back to the apartment,” replied Maya, as she gestured towards the CCTV monitors, “Don’t you think?” She closed the door firmly behind her.
Cameron stared at the door and then looked down at the black cashmere overcoat, which had fallen off the peg. He creased his forehead thoughtfully when he saw the gold pin hidden under the lapel. It had a blood-red symbol of a hand holding a flame emblazoned on it. He walked over slowly, picked the coat up and hung back on the peg.
CHAPTER TEN
What Will Found
The fresh air wafted up Will’s nose and the sun shone brightly, as it prised his eyes open. He smiled at first and then stretched out before his body gave way to trembling. His clothes were damp from the early morning dew and the chill that came with being exposed to the cold night air.
“What the hell!” Will said bemused. “How did I get here?”
He rose to his feet awkwardly and brushed the sand from his clothes. Fortunately, he was wearing his jacket, which gave him some protection from the cold sea air. Will immediately recognised his location, long before he saw any signposts.
Will looked around and felt strangely familiar with his surroundings. It dawned on him that he’d visited this place numerous times, in his dreams. Inside his body, he felt the surge of adrenaline combined with an uneasiness.
Instinctively, he reached into his jacket pocket for his phone, so he could call Maya. However, in keeping with the finest traditions of sod’s law he didn’t have it. Will searched around vainly with the scant hope of finding a payphone, before cursing the impracticalities of rural life.
From where Will was standing, he could see the entrance of the visitor centre of the facility. However, contrary to his typically curious nature, he decided against checking it out. Instead, he returned to the car and headed for home.
In his rear view mirror, Will could see the white spherical dome fading into the sun kissed horizon. During the journey home, Will remained perplexed as he was desperately trying to understand how he’d arrived at Chapelsfield Nuclear Facility.
Two hours later, after having his patience tested by slow moving tractors along narrow country lanes, Will was back at his apartment in Cambridge. After he’d showered most of his angst away and eaten some breakfast, Will got down some serious work. Finally, his final undergraduate paper was near completion, he was fired-up about reaching the end of his Journalism studies.
In a couple of months, Will would graduate and entering the world of the full time Journalism. However, try as he might, Will found his mind kept shifting elsewhere. He was still thinking about Chapelsfield, specifically how he got there.
Will held his head in hands and found he’d reached a point where he needed to offload and confide in someone that he trusted. He scribbled down a list of possibilities, people who he could trustworthy. In truth, Will’s list wasn’t long and he already knew the names, Maya, Adam, Wes and Ally. He also considered the possibility of confiding in Daley.
He stared at his hopelessly short list and realised that’s how it needed to stay. Will’s main concern ultimately came down to one factor, safety. He didn’t want anyone drawn into a compromising situation or any dangerous encounters.
After his brush with death, Will presumed the man who tried to kill him was military trained and possibly working for the government. He also correctly guessed that he wasn’t working alone, which meant there’d be other threats.
For the time being, Will chose not to discuss his problems with anyone beyond Maya and Adam. By the time he cleared his mind, Will was able to return to matters of more academic nature.
As afternoon swiftly turned into evening, Will stared out of the window onto the streets and saw hue of twilight. He rubbed his bleary eyes and upon seeing his completed work, smiled triumphantly at the prospect of graduation.
Will was about to close his laptop, when the notification of an e-mail sounded. He looked at the top of his screen and saw the sender’s username, which read: [email protected]. He sat down and read the message to himself,
“Have you made the connection yet? Look at the GEC picture from Washington 1980. Time’s running out! I’ll be in touch, Ax.” Will frowned and stared hard at the message, ‘Ax, Ax? Who the hell is Ax?’ he thought.
After several futile minutes of trying to work out who the mysterious Ax could be, Will sauntered into the bedroom. He pulled back the rug under the bed back and dislodged a small piece of parquet. Hidden underneath was a small metallic box, which he retrieved.
Inside the box was an external hard drive, which had copies of everything he’d acquired from the Chronicle. There was articles, news cuttings and photos, items that nearly got him killed and had his room at the Ram Inn ransacked.
As he eyed the contents of the box, Will allowed himself a self-satisfied smile. He took pride in his ingenuity, not that he knew what would happen. The only thing that mattered was that within his box, there was a secret that he needed to find, and soon.
Will took out the old newspaper cuttings and pictures from the box and spread them out across the bed and floor. He inspected each headline and picture thoroughly. He was relishing what he deemed as essential skills for any investigative journalist.
With each item he came across, kept asking the same questions, ‘Why is this important? Who are these people? How are they connected?’ he repeated to himself. It went on like this for nearly an hour.
It wasn’t until he revisited the Washington, 1980 Energy Conference when things started to fall dramatically into place. He picked-up the old photograph and decided to use his greatest research tool, the internet.
Will already knew three of the people standing amongst the group in the picture, Nathaniel Walker and his parents Alannah and Cameron Cox. He discovered the other people were all prominent ministers for environment and energy from their respective countries.
There was Chan Li Yun from China, Celestine Parillaud from France, Inshma Mirza from Pakistan, Dimitri Bogatov from Russia, Hernan Gonzalez from Mexico, Ando Kobayashi, the Japan minister, US Senator Randall Cleveland, and Sir Clive Baldwin-Jones representing the UK.
Will wondered what other shady things they had in common, besides their job descriptions. He also tried to imagine how his and Maya’s parents came to be in such distinguished company. After a while, he went back to the internet. Will cross-referenced the different ministers and even dropped Maya and his parents into the mix.
At first, he couldn’t see anything obvious. The delegates were only concerned with promoting their initiatives for energy provision and conservation. Will tried a different angle on the delegates and focussed on where they were presently. He saw that Yun and Parillaud retired back in 1987. Mirza retired 1998 and his successor Jamil Khurshak was currently serving as the Asian Minister for Energy and Environment for the last few years.
Since 1990, Senator Cleveland and Clive Baldwin-Jones’ political careers had rocketed skywards. Both men elevated to very high positions of power. Will took the cutting of the article and tossed it to one side, as it held the least interest to him.
As he shuffled through the cuttings and articles, one stood out. He read the headline out, “February 13, 1993 Delegates Killed in Fyodorgrad Tragedy!” said Will intrigued. “The world mourns at the loss of three foreign ministers who pioneered energy consumerism.”
Will stopped for a minute to consider the story. Then he remembered the red logo of the Prometheans subtly concealed in other photos at the Chronicle. Will allowed the events of Fyodorgrad, the Mexican Gulf disasters and Satoshima-1 Power Plant to swirl in his mind, “Nah!” he said to himself. “They couldn’t be, could they?”
Excited, Will grabbed all the pictures that involved energy disasters. He took the cutting of the delegates who died at Fyodorgrad, the Washington GEC picture and placed them side-by-side. It took him very little time before he saw the unlikeliest of connections.
Will went into a file on his hard drive, where he had saved copies of all the photos. He zoomed in on each picture as much as he could without compromising the resolution and found his smoking gun.
On each of the forefingers of all the ministers was a ring, a gold ring that had striking similarities to a Claddagh. The key difference was that these particular rings had two hands holding a blood red flame.
The significance of this revelation was unmistakeable. Will glared at the pictures for what seemed like an eternity, looking from one to the other. It hadn’t occurred to Will yet but he’d discovered something, which dated back to his birth
year but would impact on his future. He remained sitting on his bed, looking at the images and uncertain of his next move.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Graduation
Jubilation ensued, as everyone leapt out of their chairs and threw their caps towards the high ceiling in the great hall. Confetti popped and crackled in sequence from several points around the room, exploding outward like fireworks. Will smiled as the audience recoiled in surprise and then clapped approvingly.
The graduating cohort of media students celebrated their academic successes with warm handshakes, embraces and mutual pleasantries. An immense sense of pride and satisfaction washed over Will, as he looked around and absorbed the moment. Will’s mind drift back to three years ago, when he first began his degree.
For Will, the time had flown by since he’d first met the professor at the Rowling College open day. The enigmatic lecturer who’d convinced him that he could pursue a career in investigative journalism.
Will remained lost in that memory, until a gentle tug on his arm immediately brought him out of his hypnotic state. He turned around and felt the warmth from Maya’s body, as she drew herself closer to him.
“Congratulations handsome,” said Maya, as she kissed him.
“Same to you beautiful,” replied Will, as he returned her affection.
Since the professor’s death, Will’s self-imposed exile from his friends meant he hadn’t spent much time with Maya. They stood clinched together in their own little bubble, oblivious everyone.
“So, now that you’ve got your bachelors, what next?” asked Maya curiously.
“Now, I get to work as a full-time Journo at the Chronicle,” said Will enthusiastically. “…Salaried of course! Daley always said if I gave him two years, he’d use his influence and hook me up with one of the bigger national papers.”
“An apprenticeship?” asked Maya.
“Uh, yes and no!” said Will. “I suppose it helps that I’m already employed there in a part time capacity.”
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