Starweb

by Warren James Palmer

  ''Luck yourselves…' Black replied. 'I think you'll need it more than we will… If we find out any more as to what the hell's going on, we'll let you know. Try and make it back in one piece!'

  'We'll do our best,' Jenson said, 'but no promises! Karine out.'

  The communication was terminated and with the abductor's trail through the sub-ether programmed into the flight computer, the Karine slipped into that other dimension.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Muscovite police headquarters interrogation room.

  06.15hrs local time. June 6th 2057

  A pall of smoke hung over Moscow, filtering the dawn light so the day began dirty and grey. Finally, they were bringing the numerous blazes under control. During the early hours of the morning they'd been forced to retreat from the mobs ransacking the city centre, leaving the fires to devour homes, shops and offices. Only after troops arrived from barracks outside Moscow, and the rioting worshipers dispersed, were they able to tackle the countless blazes. Now, although nearly on the point of exhaustion, the fire fighters did at least have the situation under control. Even so, the loss of life and property was appalling. Moscow had just suffered its worst night of damage since the invasion of 2025.

  Myrddin sat with police inspector Tupolevski watching the closed circuit TV images of Dydnski, the bishop of the Triplanetary Church, being interviewed by agent Delaware and two Muscovite police officers. The Dyason church leader had an ugly welt on his forehead where he'd been struck during the fighting within the stadium. His expression was suitably haggard and tired. With his hands clasped around a cold cup of coffee, his eyes stared blankly into the middle-distance.

  Unfortunately, Delaware was getting nowhere with her questioning, largely due to the presence of the high-powered lawyer sitting on the bishops left. Every time she asked a question of any substance, the lawyer quoted his client's right to silence. And silent was exactly what Dydnski remained.

  Once the Russian police had regained control of the stadium, Myrddin had desperately attempted to locate the flame-haired woman he'd spotted on the stage. However, she was not among the organizers and members of Dydnski's entourage when they were hauled in for questioning. Unsurprisingly, nobody knew anything about the woman and Myrddin knew she'd slipped through the net.

  An officer tapped the ancient politely on the shoulder and indicated that a video-call awaited him.

  'Yes Mr President,' he said when he moved to the screen and saw the familiar features of James Gafton.

  'You're going to have to let him go Myrddin,' the president told him bluntly. 'Supporters of Triplanetary Church have come onto the streets in their thousands all over the world. Unfortunately, the level of popular support for the bishop's cult religion is more widespread than we'd ever anticipated.'

  'Why am I not surprised?' the ancient replied wearily.

  'Have you found out anymore?' the president asked, concern and strain lining his face.

  'No not really,' Myrddin answered with a sigh. 'Dydnski's refusing to talk, as are the rest of his entourage. However, we’ve confirmed that impostors wearing police uniforms carried out the invasion of the stage. We found the uniforms discarded some time later. There was no sign of the impostors.'

  'There's no doubt in your mind that the whole thing was planned then?' Gafton asked.

  'None at all. It was a well planned and executed stint. The cult followers were primed and enticed into rioting.'

  'What about that woman you mentioned, the one with the red-hair? Do you still think she was the instigator for the whole thing?

  'Yes I do,' the ancient confirmed. 'I've scanned the minds of all those bought here to the police station. None of them seem to really know anything. Their denial of the existence of our mysterious woman only firms up my belief that she was somehow the instigator.'

  'Could she be an agent for the Starweb?' asked the president.

  'It's too early to tell, but I think we have to accept that as a possibility,' came the reply.

  'Then I want you to make the location of that woman your highest priority Myrddin. We have to get to the bottom of this mass hysteria. If there are Starweb agents operating here on Earth, I want firm evidence as soon as possible!'

  'I'll do what I can James,' Myrddin promised tiredly.

  'I know you will old friend, I know you will... It's just that the nightmare of a complete breakdown in the fabric of our society doesn't seem so far-fetched anymore! I feel we're on the edge of a dark precipice…I have to go Myrddin. Do your best!' The connection was cut and the image of the UN president faded from the screen.

  Myrddin sat in thought staring at the blank screen for several minutes, before cursing and ordering the release of Bishop Dydnski and his disciples. The president was right; dark forces were at work here on Earth, and their only real link to the perpetrators had neatly slipped the net.

  The collective members of the Starweb received the report on the events on Earth with satisfaction. There had initially been quite a lot of resistance to member 3789/29's suggestion, but early results did appear to indicate a high probability of the scheme's eventual success.

  'As you can see, the greed and mistrust amongst the sinners can be used against them.' The sentient Starweb computer 3789/29 announced to other members of the galactic net. 'Why stain our own souls, when we can exterminate the vermin without direct intervention? These bloodthirsty humanoids have nearly destroyed themselves several times already. All it takes is a little encouragement to ensure they do the job properly next-time!'

  'I agree that your scheme shows great promise,' the presiding mainframe of the web responded, 'but I feel God would wish us to purify the universe as soon as possible. We have already wasted far too much time trying to make these surviving races see the need for penance and redemption. I believe a combination of your scheme of disorder and a more traditional flaming sword of overwhelming force, stands the best chance of complete success. We must continue the expansion of God's fleet. Do we all concur?'

  And indeed, all the members of the collective network of super-sentient computers agreed upon this course of action. Member 3789/29 was not displeased; its clever scheme of attack from within would continue, and may yet prove the need for a more traditional invasion to be unnecessary. If such a thing came to pass, then it would have truly proved itself to be a 'Guardian of God.'

  The twin-engined business jet roared down the runway and lifted off into the morning sky. Within minutes, it was at cruising altitude and speeding back toward the United Kingdom. A steward poured fresh coffee from a pot and served morning croissant to the aircraft's two passengers.

  Miss Smith sipped the hot liquid and stretched her long legs out before her. A smile of contentment, like that of the proverbial Cheshire cat, spread across her face.

  'Quite a nights work eh?' Lord Steel commented from the seat next to her. 'I must compliment you on your achievement. I don't recall anybody, including the Dyason, managing to trash Moscow quite so effectively!'

  He eyed her hungrily, his look one of lust, but restrained by an almost fearful admiration for this most competent of women. The chief executive of North Atlantic Petroleum had always considered himself calculating and ruthless, but this operative was not only calculating, but totally without compassion. If it had taken the lives of all those within the football stadium to achieve her aims, she would have killed them all. She was fascinating, beautiful and deadly; an addictive cocktail.

  'Tell me, how did you achieve such spectacular results?' he asked.

  Miss Smith looked up from her coffee and croissants. 'There are some things that it’s better not to know,' she answered bluntly.

  Lord Steel flushed. He was unused to being put down by other people, especially from those he employed. However, Miss Smith was the exception to the rule, so he simply muttered, 'Err yes…quite so, quite so.'

  The executive jet continued on course for London and the two passengers sat in silence, Lord Steel staring out of the window brooding, u
ntil the flame-haired woman had completed her breakfast. Only when she was good and ready did she ask, 'Have you thought any more about my proposal? I would have thought that last night’s events were sufficient to prove that what I suggest is more than a mere possibility.'

  The petroleum chief executive turned away from the window and looked at her, 'Indeed Miss Smith, last night was a wonderful example of what can be achieved and yes, I have thought carefully about your suggestions.'

  Steel paused, she could see the lust for power in his eyes, yet the calculating part of his mind refused to be entirely spellbound by her charms.

  'You believe that a few more disasters will create sufficient disruption to society, that the world senate will be forced to back a vote of no confidence in president Gafton?' he asked, going over the scheme once more. Miss Smith simply nodded. 'And by bribing and corrupting these same senators, you can get my name put forward for the electoral race?'

  'I believe I can guarantee a ground-swell of support from the Triplanetary Church,' she told him. 'The number of followers for the cult will expand exponentially after what happened last night in the Moscow stadium. The new members will all become followers and workers of the cause, and that cause will be to get you voted to the position of President of the United Nations of Earth.'

  Lord Steel stared thoughtfully into the middle-distance. 'Hmm…I have to admit, it is a very attractive proposition,' he mused. 'Once president, I could ban the use of point-zero power production. In fact, I could set in motion many things that would be beneficial to multi-nationals such as ours!'

  The mercenary operative realised she had hooked her catch and within seconds she was reeling him in.

  'It would indeed appear to be foolish not to accept your proposition Miss Smith,' the executive agreed with a tight, slimy smile. 'It is an opportunity too good to be missed. You are of course correct; we should think far more ambitiously than we have in the past. With our combined talents, there is nothing we cannot do. The concerns of just one company alone are inconsequential! There is a whole universe of commerce and peoples out there for us to conquer! You have a deal my dear!'

  Lord Steel offered his hand to seal the agreement, but the woman refused it. Instead she reached toward his crotch and lowered her head.

  Dydnski and Myrddin stood before each other in the foyer of the Moscow State police headquarters. Behind the bulk of the church leader were his most loyal disciples and the immaculately attired lawyer, who had so effectively managed to get his client released from custody.

  The ancient Terran and the imposing Dyason faced each other like prize-fighters, weighing up their opponents as a prelude to the main event.

  Myrddin held the stare of the leader of the Triplanetary Church and hissed, 'I don't know what your scheme is yet Dydnski, but I know that you are a corrupt and dangerous man. Your cult is warping the minds of innocent people. Mark my words…I will have your head on a platter!'

  The lawyer immediately stepped forward and began to say, 'My client…'

  Dydnski held up his hand and stopped his legal adviser mid-sentence. Holding the shorter man's stare he replied, 'I will pray for your salvation my son. But remember, one day you will have to answer for your sins. Only through penance can you seek redemption…'

  The words were meant to inflame Myrddin and they worked. His face flushed bright red and he roared into the face of the Dyason, 'What did you say?!'

  The church leader simply smiled at the irate ancient, turned and strode toward the exit, his entourage surrounding him. Myrddin looked as if he was going to make a grab for the Dyason, but he was restrained by Delaware and a passing police officer.

  'Let him go Myrddin,' she told him carefully. 'He was trying to get a reaction from you, and it worked. There's nothing more we can do for now, so calm down.'

  He took several deep breaths, watching the members of the religious cult leave the station, desperately wanting to fry the brains of Dydnski there and then. But, he knew such an action would make the man a martyr and he wasn't about to give the bastard the satisfaction.

  'Okay, okay,' he breathed eventually, 'I'm calm…you can let go of me now.' The restraining hands were released and he reluctantly turned and began marching back up the wide steps.

  'Besides,' Delaware whispered conspiratorially, walking beside him, 'the game's not over yet.'

  Myrddin stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to look at her. 'What do you mean?' he demanded.

  Silently she passed him her phone, a small smile on her face. He looked at what was on the screen, then barking a short laugh, threw his arms around the surprised Masorak agent.

  'Delaware!' he roared, 'I've just decided I love you and want you to have my children! Pack your bags, we're going to London!'

  Soho Square, London West End.

  09.25hrs local time. June 7th 2057

  The unmarked, standard saloon cars, rolled up outside the door of the nineteenth century buildings one by one. A heavily built man, his muscles barely restrained by the plain suit he wore, opened the rear door of each car as it arrived and ushered each passenger in through a small side-entrance.

  A survivor of two world wars, alien invasion and Dyason occupation, the west-end gentleman's club had remained largely unchanged for many years. The biggest disruption in the Soho club's two hundred and fifty year history had been caused by opening the membership to women of a certain caliber. The rest of history had, to a greater or lesser extent, passed by the over-stuffed armchairs and crystal brandy decanters. The venue was undoubtedly perfect for a discreet meeting of the men and women who controlled the top multi-national companies of three worlds.

  Unwashed, and with the pale death mask of a drug addict, agent Delaware sat slumped in a doorway near to the club's side entrance. With a mini-recorder on a fingernail, she surreptitiously recorded the arrival of each car, and gently scanned the minds of each guest. She still found it frustrating that they'd been unable to place a bug within the club itself.

  The interior of the building may have remained largely unchanged in over a century, but the systems protecting it certainly had. Masorak still hadn't figured out how they'd done it, but someone had installed shielding systems around several interior meeting rooms, which were impossible to breach. These were supported by scanners which prevented anyone attempting to bring in any sort of bugs or transmitters. Myrddin and Delaware had considered the possibility of mentally scanning the meeting, but the employment by the club of a Heligsion telepathic operant, had once again precluded any possibility of mental scanning, without the knowledge of the industrialists.

  They weren't in a position to announce their presence yet, so Delaware and the other agents could only tag and follow the "captains of industry". The actual contents of the meeting would unfortunately, remain a mystery. They would have to rely on traditional detective skills.

  The guests were ushered into a lavishly furnished conference room. The long mahogany table was beautifully French-polished and neatly laid with refreshments and writing pads. The walls were soundproofed and tastefully hung with original masters. Once each person had been shown to their place, the butler retired and carefully closed the door.

  The twelve members of the three worlds most exclusive club looked at each other, solemnly drank a toast, and then sat down. Lord Steel sat at one end, elegantly dressed in a Seville-row suit and Miss Smith sat at the other, exuding sex appeal in her tightly fitting skirt and matching jacket.

  'Welcome friends,' Steel began, an ingratiating smile fixed on his face. 'I apologise for having to call this extraordinary meeting of the dozen.'

  'Cut the bullshit Steel,' Michael Campbell, head of the giant North American Motors interrupted. Having worked his way up from the shop floor, Campbell was a thickset man with blunt manners. 'What's going on? Involving that bunch of weirdo religious freaks was not part of the agreed plan!’

  'So far, all that seems to have been achieved is for the whole of society to be destabilized. This is n
ot good for consumer spending. My shareholders are very concerned!' Kelo Yasaski, the Japanese head of an electronics giant added. 'Our scheme was to discredit the Point-Zero power plants, not set off a world-wide economic recession!'

  'And what is she doing here!' Pauline DeShalte, chief executive of the European Power Company spat, giving the flame-haired operative a dirty stare.

  Steel held out his hands in a placating manner and pleaded, 'Please my friends, let us not argue amongst ourselves. World events have changed matters considerably in recent weeks. However, I believe these changes have created opportunities which we can take advantage of. That is why I called this meeting.'

  The British hereditary lord then went on to explain to the other industry leaders what had occurred in Moscow. His version of events was obviously edited and didn't even hint at how Miss Smith had managed to control a stadium of fifty thousand people; mainly because he didn't know himself. He then went on to explain how he planned to use their money and influence to arrange a senate vote of no confidence in the leader of the United Nations. This, he told them, would leave a power vacuum which they could fill. Of course, he took full credit for the idea, not even mentioning the fact that the suggestion first came from a very silent Miss Smith.

  'You intend to put yourself forward for the presidency?' Mohammed Abdula, the leader of the Arab oil consortium guessed shrewdly.

  'Ah…I never thought of that!' Steel exclaimed in feigned surprise. 'I'm flattered that you even consider such a possibility!'

  'Yeah, right,' the American, Campbell muttered.

  'What you appear to be suggesting, is very different to our original plan,' DeShalte said thoughtfully. 'The original scheme was to simply discredit the new power source as a viable alternative to fossil fuels. We came together to remove an economic threat. What you are planning goes far beyond our original agreement. Although...having said that, your scheme is not without merit.'