The Secret of Excalibur_A Novel

by Andy McDermott

  Nina regarded him in disbelief. “What?” A lone, disgraced historian spending his time on such a theory was one thing … but one of the U.S. government’s most advanced scientific departments?

  Mitchell leaned forward. “Have you ever heard of HAARP?”

  “Brother of Grouch, Chic and Zepp?” Chase said. Nina groaned.

  “High-frequency Active Auroral Research Program,” said Mitchell, faintly amused. “It’s a U.S. government project based in Alaska that uses a directional antenna array to selectively heat parts of the ionosphere into plasma. The idea was that we could turn the upper atmosphere into a kind of mirror for directed energy, which would let us increase the range of radio signals or radar by thousands of miles, even tens of thousands.”

  “So you wouldn’t be affected by line-of-sight limitations,” said Chase thoughtfully, interested now that the subject had developed a military aspect. “You make this mirror, then bounce signals off it so they can go over the horizon.”

  “Exactly. The Russians had a similar project, called SURA. But the HAARP researchers found something unusual—for some reason, the antenna array was putting out energy … even when it wasn’t powered up. So DARPA started trying to work out why.”

  “And what did you find?” Nina asked dubiously.

  “Something that could only be described as ‘earth energy.’”

  “Riiight.”

  He held out his open palms to her. “It’s not such a stretch, Dr. Wilde, really. The entire planet is in some ways just a massive electric motor—we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, because without the field generated by the earth’s core to protect us from the sun’s radiation, we’d all be dead. But what we found was that there are also lines of energy at ground level, not just above the atmosphere. The HAARP array happened to be situated close enough to one of these lines for it to generate power through induction, much more than could be accounted for by normal telluric processes. We did tests, and found that if you built an array at a point where several of these lines converge, and you created a magnetic field that channeled and focused them, you could theoretically generate a significant amount of energy—basically for free. The earth puts out more power in a day than has been produced in the whole of human history. If we could tap into even a tiny percentage of that …”

  “You’d put this Vaskovich bloke out of business,” Chase said. “No wonder he wants to keep it quiet.”

  Nina still wasn’t convinced. “I don’t see how that connects to Excalibur.”

  Mitchell’s expression became more intense. “Excalibur isn’t just connected to this theory, Dr. Wilde. It’s the key. Vaskovich has already built an earth energy generator in northern Russia, and is trying to make it work as we speak.”

  “How do you know what he’s doing?” Chase asked.

  A half-smile. “We’ve got a reliable source inside Vaskovich’s organization. We know what he’s up to. But his generator … it’s not working. Yet. Our research found that creating the magnetic fields you need to channel the earth energy requires a lot of power to be put in—more than the generator has managed to put out.”

  “In other words,” said Nina scathingly, “it’s completely pointless.”

  “The theory’s sound,” Mitchell insisted. “But to break that barrier, you need a superconducting material at the focal point—something that allows energy transfer with near one hundred percent efficiency. With conventional technology, you create superconductors by cooling them down to near absolute zero with liquid nitrogen or helium. But to do that in an earth energy generator you’d need a massive, constant supply of coolant—so much that you’d need an entire chemical plant right there on site making the stuff. It’s just not practical. So you need a superconductor that can work without coolant. And that’s where Excalibur comes in.”

  Nina raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You’re saying that Excalibur was made of a superconductor?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And it’s what Rust said, too—and what he told Vaskovich. Your friend’s theory was that Merlin forged Excalibur from an alloy with high-temperature superconducting properties.”

  “Oh, come on!” protested Nina. “In the sixth century?”

  “Ever heard of Wootz steel?” Mitchell asked, obviously prepared for the objection. “It’s an ultrahard form of steel that gets its strength from a matrix of carbon nanotubes within the metal. It’s difficult for us to make even now—but incredibly sharp blades were being forged from it in China and India in 500 BC. It was probably a fluke that the technique was ever discovered … but it was discovered. Whether by chance or by genius, Merlin accomplished something even more incredible with King Arthur’s swords. He really was a wizard—just not in the Gandalf sense.”

  “Wait, swords, plural?” Chase cut in.

  Mitchell nodded. “Arthur’s original sword, Caliburn, was the same metal, but not quite as effective. Call it Merlin’s prototype for Excalibur. But Arthur had a weapon that acted as a natural channel for earth energy—and according to legend, he made use of it. Nothing could stand against Excalibur when Arthur wielded it, and it even glowed when he used it in battle.”

  Nina remembered what Rust had told her at the hotel. “Bernd said that Excalibur shone with the light of thirty torches, and lit up with flames.”

  “It’d be one hell of a psychological weapon,” said Mitchell. “Imagine having the king of the Britons charging at you with his sword on fire, cutting through everyone in his path. It’d be the sixth-century equivalent of a Spectre gunship or a daisy-cutter bomb. Once you see it coming, the last thing you’d be thinking about is fighting. You’d just want to run away like brave Sir Robin.”

  Nina laughed at the Monty Python reference, then became serious again. “You really believe this, don’t you? You really think King Arthur’s sword was made of this magic metal?”

  “I do,” Mitchell told her firmly. “But the problem is, so does Vaskovich.”

  “Why’s it a problem?” asked Chase. “He gets the sword, his generator works, zap! Free electricity all round.”

  “What, apart from the fact that he’s murdered people to get it?” Nina said disapprovingly.

  Mitchell’s expression became grim. “There’s more to it than just generating electricity. Excalibur was a powerful weapon in Arthur’s time … but today it could be used to create an even more powerful weapon. With the right superconductor in place, the earth energy generator becomes self-sustaining, so the external energy source you need to kick start the process can be switched off. And the generator can then build up enormous amounts of energy, which can be released in a single burst.”

  “So the thing blows itself to bits,” said Chase. “Can’t see the downside there.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Mitchell said, shaking his head. “The system uses a HAARP-style antenna array to draw in earth energy. But the array was also designed to put energy out—and it still can. Vaskovich could use the array to heat the ionosphere just like HAARP was designed to do—and then bounce the entire output of the generator off it in a single blast, and hit a target thousands of miles away. From the Arctic coast of Russia, he could destroy any target in the northern hemisphere.”

  A chill ran through Nina. “Just how powerful is this thing?”

  “The force of a nuclear bomb, channeled through a lightning bolt,” Mitchell told her. “And there’s no defense against it. No warning it’s coming, no way to stop it. And all Vaskovich needs to make it work is the right superconducting metal. Which is why I’m here.” He straightened. “This is a matter of national security—not just for the United States, but for every country in the world. Dr. Wilde, we want you to find Excalibur—before Vaskovich does.”

  “Me?” said Nina, shocked. “Why do you think I can find it?”

  “You were the last person to speak to Rust. You said in your police statement that he told you where to find the pieces of Caliburn, which contain the location of Excalibur.”

  “He di
dn’t exactly give me map references,” she protested. “He just told me he thought he knew where they were—and then he got shot!”

  “It’s all we’ve got. Now that Vaskovich’s people have got Rust’s research, you’re the only person who stands a chance of beating them to the sword. After all,” he said, with an encouraging flick of his eyebrows, “you’ve got some experience in this kind of thing.”

  “But what if Bernd was wrong?”

  “Then Vaskovich has nothing. But the United States can’t take the chance that he was right. If Vaskovich can make his weapon work, it’ll be the most destabilizing threat to the world since the Cold War. Russia’s already rattling its saber over the Arctic; this would give them the power to back up their threats by force.” He stood. “I’d like you to come back to the embassy in London to work out a plan of action.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Chase. “We work for the IHA, not DARPA.”

  Again, Mitchell had clearly anticipated the objection. “The IHA has already agreed to cooperate with DARPA on this mission.”

  Nina was surprised. “It has? But the IHA’s a civilian United Nations agency, not part of the U.S. military.”

  “The IHA was set up to ensure that historical artifacts didn’t fall into the wrong hands,” Peach piped up. “I think this qualifies.”

  “It’ll officially be an IHA operation,” said Mitchell. “But the United States, specifically DARPA, will be backing it. The director of the IHA has already authorized it.”

  “I’d like to discuss this with Hector myself,” said Nina, tight-lipped.

  “I thought you would. That’s why he’s on his way to England right now—he might even be at the embassy already. You can talk to him in person.”

  “Bloody hell,” muttered Chase. “Bit quick off the mark, aren’t you?”

  “Vaskovich’s people will be ready to move as soon as they figure out where the sword pieces are,” Mitchell said. “So we need to move faster.”

  “Huh,” said Nina. “I guess we’re going to London, then.”

  Chase stood and looked out of the window at the limo. “We’d better take your car—ours is a bit knackered. Good job we took out the damage insurance …”

  • • •

  The American embassy dominated one end of London’s leafy Grosvenor Square. It was, Nina thought as the limo rounded the antiterrorist security blockades to pull into a guarded side gate, a singularly unattractive structure: a brutalist block of concrete and glass, completely at odds with the elegant Victorian and Georgian town houses nearby. But for all that, the sight of the Stars and Stripes flying outside gave her a momentary swell of pride. A piece of home away from home.

  Their departure from Elizabeth’s home had been hurried, with Holly and Nan surprised and sorry to see them leave, and Elizabeth saying very little, frustrated at being unable to vent her remaining anger at Chase. Mac had also been surprised; though Mitchell’s reiteration of the classified nature of the mission meant Chase couldn’t tell him anything, the brief exchange of glances between the two former SAS men reassured Chase that Mac would use his own contacts to help if he could.

  Now Peach brought them to an office overlooking Grosvenor Square, where Amoros was waiting for them. “Hector,” said Nina. “My God, you look exhausted!”

  “I’ve had a busy twenty-four hours,” he said grumpily. “It’s not every day that my director of operations—and her special assistant,” he added, glaring at Chase, “get arrested for destroying half a town. Then, as if dealing with the press wasn’t enough, suddenly I’m told it’s now a national security issue and I get hustled on to a State Department jet and flown to England without even being given time to pack a toothbrush!”

  “Sorry about that, Admiral,” said Mitchell, stepping forward to shake Amoros’s hand. “Jack Mitchell, DARPA. We spoke on the phone.”

  Amoros regarded Mitchell as if he wasn’t what he’d expected before turning back to Nina. “They’ve filled me in about the situation. I imagine you’re not entirely happy about it.”

  “Hardly,” Nina snorted. “Hector, I appreciate that yes, if what Mr. Mitchell says is true then there are national security issues. But if that’s the case, surely this is now a job for the CIA, not the IHA. If we’re seen to be taking sides or actively working for one particular government, it could make it a lot harder to get cooperation from other countries in the future.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, and to a certain extent I agree. But this situation is different.”

  “Yeah? How come?”

  Amoros was not pleased to be challenged. “Because, Nina, the chickens have come home to roost. The IHA might have been set up under the flag of the U.N., but it was the NATO nations, and especially the United States, that funded it. The U.S. has put a lot of money and resources into the IHA—and over seventy lives, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you. So now Uncle Sam is asking the IHA to do something in return.” On seeing Nina’s disapproving expression, he went on: “Jesus, Nina! This is exactly why the IHA was created in the first place, you know that! If this Vaskovich gets Excalibur, we could have another Atlantis on our hands—and not that sanitized fairy-tale version we put out to the public, but the real story, the one that almost ended with millions of people dead!”

  “But we’ve got almost nothing to go on!” Nina objected. “Bernd told me that the priest at that church in Sicily was murdered by the Russians, but the local police said they suspected the Mafia. And maybe they were right, maybe the death was just a coincidence.”

  “And if this thing was there,” Chase added, “wouldn’t that mean Vaskovich has got what he needs already?”

  “The murder was three weeks ago. If he’d been able to use it to get his system working, we’d know about it by now,” said Mitchell. “It’s possible the piece was too small to be useful—or that Caliburn isn’t an effective enough superconductor.”

  “Or,” Nina countered, “Bernd could have been wrong about the whole thing.”

  “But he might not,” said Mitchell. “Which is why we have to make sure—and why we’re asking you to help us, Dr. Wilde. After everything you’ve accomplished in the past few years, you’re clearly the best person for the job.” He nodded at the picture of President Dalton on the office wall. “We need you. Your country needs you.”

  “This has all come from higher up,” Amoros said, glancing at Mitchell. “The IHA is committed to helping DARPA find these artifacts before this Russian can.”

  “I’m convinced your friend was right about Excalibur—that it exists, and that he was on the right path to finding it,” Mitchell said to Nina. “If Vaskovich uses his research to find Excalibur before we can, then Bernd will have died for nothing … and a lot of other people might die as well.”

  For the second time in two days, Nina knew she was being emotionally blackmailed—but she also knew there was no way she could say no. Not when the security of the country—of the world—was at stake.

  And if Excalibur did exist, if the Arthurian legends were actually true, then she would be the one to prove it. Another great accomplishment, turning thirty be damned …

  She turned to Chase. “What do you think, Eddie?”

  “Me?” he said, shrugging. “Sounds like fun. Get some action and save the world at the same time—I’m up for that.”

  Nina was silent, weighing her options. “All right,” she said finally, “I’ll do it. But it’s going to be an IHA operation. Not some kind of split jurisdiction affair where somebody’s second-guessing everything I do, and definitely not a military mission. If I’m doing it, then I’m in charge.”

  “That was actually going to be the plan anyway,” Mitchell told her, “so we took care of that without any problems! There are just two provisos—only little ones,” he said with a perfect white grin as Nina opened her mouth to protest. “The first is that when we find Excalibur, DARPA gets to analyze it so we can figure out exactly how Merlin made a high-temperature superconductor about fift
een hundred years early. It’ll go back to the IHA as soon as we’re done.”

  Nina nodded. “And the second?”

  “The second … is that I’ll be going with you.”

  “Oh, you will, eh?” Chase said, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’ll be DARPA’s representative—but it’ll still be an IHA operation,” Mitchell assured Nina, before snapping her a sharp salute. “At your service, ma’am.”

  “That was a proper salute,” Chase realized. “You didn’t mention you were in the forces.”

  “Commander, United States Navy,” Mitchell said proudly. “Before I transferred to DARPA.”

  Nina was impressed; Chase rather less so. “A sailor, huh?” he said.

  “Nuclear submarines—USS Jimmy Carter.”

  Chase made a face. “You wouldn’t get me on a nuclear sub. Not without a lead codpiece.”

  “They’re not that bad. Well, ours aren’t—I don’t know about the Russians’.” But what we need to do now is figure out where to go next. Dr. Wilde, I need you to tell me absolutely everything you can remember about what Rust told you.”

  “Nina.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If we’re working together, I think it should be on a first-name basis. So call me Nina.”

  Mitchell smiled again. “That suits me fine, Nina.”

  “Okay … Jack.” They smiled at each other.

  Chase rolled his eyes. “So where are we going?”

  “I don’t know,” said Nina, shaking her head. “The only place Bernd actually gave me a name for was Koroneou, in the Greek islands … but he said the sword pieces weren’t there.” She thought for a moment. “But there must have been something there that led him to where he thought they were. And he said one of them was ‘close to home’—I think he lived in southern Germany, near Munich.”

  “That doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Chase said wryly.

  “It’s better than nothing,” said Mitchell. “I’ll arrange us priority transport to Koroneou, then—it’s the only lead we’ve got.”

  Chase grinned. “So, I guess Greece is the word.”