by A D Davies
What Jules did know was that part of their legacy contained these mysterious orbs.
Tane said, “You’ve encountered orbs left by this prehistoric culture. You know there’s something powerful there, but—”
“They’re magnetically charged,” Jules said. “Takes a genetically attuned someone to control ‘em properly.” He waggled his fingers. “But hook ‘em up in a certain way and they activate other rocks and stuff. They even kinda communicate with each other in different parts of the world.”
“Communicate isn’t quite right,” Charlie put in. “There are signals. It’s like they’re linking up. A kind of circuit. They use neutrinos, which pass through solid matter without detection. As you say, it’s ancient tech, only it’s working on a quantum level.”
“We think it’s a natural occurrence,” Jules said. “Like dark matter. Our Witness friends might not have understood what it was, but they worked out how to use it.”
“But they built it?” Tane said. “The machines or equipment that tapped into this energy?”
“Not exactly,” Toby answered. “We haven’t been able to discern, empirically, if this is the case but Jules here—”
“They found it,” Jules said. “Like we found their stuff, their accounts of pre-history, they found a bunch of these things, these places they took over. There might’ve been another race, older than them.”
Dan clicked his tongue, winked, and shot a finger-gun at Jules. “Aliens, dude. I’m telling you.”
Jules angled his face, lopsided toward Dan with the usual tired exasperation when the subject came up. To Tane, he said, “Dan and I have a hundred-dollar bet. If the final answer to these old machines is aliens, I pay up. If it’s something else, he does.”
Bridget picked up the thread, getting them back on track. “But the orbs. They’re normally activated for something big. They’re powerful, and when connected they seem to tap into energy we can’t detect—”
“Energy?” Audrey Carson said. “What sort of energy?”
Jules sensed there was more interest here than simple curiosity or concern for her daughter. The Carson Corporation was, mainly, an oil company, after all.
“What are they powering?” Jules asked. “Something to do with the metal these shields are made of.”
“Ah, the shields!” With his hands together in prayer, Dan gazed to the sky. “We’ve arrived.”
Tane didn’t falter at the sarcasm. “We didn’t know what it was for a long time, but over the years we’ve concluded that Executive Ryom knows most, but not all, of the truth. They know of the existence of giant humanoids, dating back a few hundred years to the point they were enslaved and hunted to extinction. It seems they evolved much like other human species, like Neanderthals, who ran out of the ability to interbreed. That, and they were often kidnapped and pressed into becoming warriors.”
“Like the Guardians,” Jules said.
“The Guardians didn’t enslave people. It was always a choice.” Tane left no room for debate in his delivery. “The discovery of this extinct species and the weapons they carried, has led them to understand the legend of the Four Shields. Just as we do.”
“But is it a legend?” Sally Garcia asked with a tremble of excitement.
Again, Tane needed a moment to steel himself before speaking. “We believe the ‘Four Shields’ isn’t necessarily four individual shields gathered in one place, but they could be. They could also be one sample of the metal that works four-fold: First, protection and shelter using one device, a gifted individual—such as Mr. Sibeko here—generating an energy field that can hide those under its dome from sight, and physically repel attackers.”
“Are you talking about a cloaking device?” Harpal asked. “Like a Klingon Bird of Prey in Star Trek?”
“Yes, like that. Two, you could set up a circuit. Four in a square, or maybe six in a ring around a larger mass. Say, a village. Or even a small country.”
“Presumably, you’d need an orb to power that,” Charlie said.
“Correct. Three is where it gets into the neutrino side of it, of these objects communicating through the Earth. Imagine a planet-circling cocoon. It could protect us from meteors, solar flares—”
“Aliens,” Dan said.
Jules wasn’t clear if he was joking, so offered a laugh out of politeness. A ripple of amusement passed over everyone except Tane and the senior Carsons.
The big Kiwi said, “Or four: it could, if hooked up correctly, become a weapon. It starts small, concealing an area the size of a town, then expands outward, wiping out everything from a few meters into the earth and above. We think they can encase an active ring around a bigger land mass, with enough samples, and essentially send a massive tsunami out from the center.”
Jules pictured it like a wave, expanding from a small dam high in the mountains. “But wouldn’t that take out the country they were in?”
“That’s why they need the giant’s shield. You see, the other metal samples—let’s call them all shields for simplicity’s sake—are blended with other materials. This one, the shield wielded by Achilles during the Trojan was… is pure. Whatever this element is, Executive Ryom seems to believe it will solve that problem. Perhaps it’s a stabilizing agent, or improves the direction or range, or—”
“There are no accounts of Achilles being a giant,” Toby said.
Jules groaned at the interruption. “Clearly a metaphor, Professor Smith.”
“No,” Tane replied. “Just in a different form. His armor, his sword, his regular sized shield. All melted down after his death, brought together in the form of the shield we lost today. And offered to the Guardians to aid their cause.”
“I don’t even care how you know that,” Jules said. “What’s the bottom line?”
“From one single device…” Tane held up a finger. “Expanding out to the next active ring, in the south-Asian land-mass, then all the way across to Eastern Europe. An energy wave powerful enough to deflect asteroids. Millions could die. But a government like that isn’t bothered by death. They, and brainwashed soldiers like Ah Dae-Sung, care only for the Korean people, and defending them against an apocalypse they believe is inevitable.”
“Us,” Dan said.
“America,” Bridget added.
Roger Carson shook his head. “Crazy-ass Koreans, eh? Don’t they know we’re the good guys and they’re the bad guys?”
“Probably not,” Jules said. “They’re raised to believe we’re evil. From birth. In schools. Through military service. And they ain’t got access to information outside of that country, so they’re pretty much stuck.”
“Where do we come in?” Bridget asked.
“Yes, how on earth do you expect me to allow my daughter to continue with—”
“We signed a contract, Dad. It’s my decision.” Bridget smiled sweetly at Tane. “Tell us.”
“The US can’t be involved,” Tane said. “For obvious political reasons. They stand to lose too much if they interfere. Not everyone in the US hierarchy supports the Guardian Protocol… not enough authority on the US side… and they will pressure the President to employ a more conventional solution.”
“War?” Dan said.
“If the shield can’t be retrieved, or the Koreans’ plan neutralized, yeah, war.” Tane paused to allow it to sink in. “But mostly… the Lost Origins Institute, and Professor Garcia of course, has a ton of knowledge and experience.”
“The whole group?” Jules asked. “Or my magic fingers?”
“That’s a part of it,” Tane said. “But we had no idea about that until Toby briefed me. It’s an advantage, I can’t deny it. But will we absolutely need you? Hard to say.”
Jules replayed all he’d heard. “You really think this’ll mean millions dead? If they succeed?”
“Maybe into the billions.” Tane held Jules’s eye. “You’ll be formally seconded to the Department of Homeland Security. Your boss’ll think it’s because you witnessed something and they’
re using you for leverage and intel. Once this is over, your job’s waiting for you.”
Jules looked around the table. As far as he could discern, the others were already sold. Even Professor Garcia was nodding absently, a subconscious tic that Jules read like a newspaper.
Jules said, “If I agree, what’s next?”
“We all fly out to New Zealand,” Tane replied. “It’s closer to Korea, we have equipment and personnel on-hand, and there’s something else there you need to examine. An essential part of this whole thing.”
“Something?” Charlie said. “What something?”
“Something I can’t go into without formal approval,” Tane told her. “An orb and its origins, and a little bonus. Rest assured, you’ll be useful. And so will you.” He gestured to Bridget. “And especially you.”
“Wait a minute.” Roger Carson’s voice rose, his face reddening.
“No, Dad.” Bridget matched his tone, but her skin remained unblemished. “Our contract says I see this out to the end. You’ll support me. Keep an eye on me. Use your contacts in… the Middle East and China or wherever. Employ spies if you want. I’m sure you will, anyway. But if we’re all agreed, I’m going with them.”
“Well?” Toby said. “I think we all know I’m up for the challenge. With or without the threat of robust incarceration by the US government.”
Harpal nodded. “Likewise.”
“Yes,” Garcia said.
They voiced agreement one at a time. All except Jules. Which meant they were all staring at him for a long stretch of silence, one he was sure was less comfortable for them than it was for him.
He eventually put them out of their misery. “Okay, I’m in. When do we leave?”
“Two hours,” Tane said. “And pack light.”
Part Three
Chapter Twenty
Jules had been to New Zealand twice before, and only once was on business. That excursion ended without conflict and during the other he’d learned to snowboard so, all in all, his experiences there had been largely positive. That didn’t stop him from taking some precautions, though.
He had packed the regular gear he would take on jobs where he expected he’d require his more basic skills, namely being sneaky and—where necessary—using his physical assets to evade capture. Tane had not disabused him of this notion, so his baggage contained several of his mini flashbangs, a belt full of two-inch throwing knives, and his bespoke grappling gear—a baton that housed a strong bungee cord topped with a grappling hook, which he used frequently to drop from buildings to either escape or to infiltrate them.
That Tane did not prevent him from bringing this stuff wasn’t particularly telling. New Zealand’s intelligence service was perfectly capable of doing more than he or the Lost Origins Institute could. The only factor that resonated true with Jules was that he could interact with the two artefacts in his pack—the Aradia bangle and the Ruby Rock bangle, neither of which he was prepared to relinquish into the hands of any government.
Whenever they quizzed him about the specifics, Tane fell back on that old chestnut, national security. Confidentiality. All that nonsense seemed to Jules to be a pathetic example of the insecurity that all politicians harbored. It also gave them a warm, cozy feeling of power.
Information is power.
Whilst that was true in many circumstances, this was simply about the truth of history. The North Koreans already knew about the offensive capabilities—make that alleged offensive capabilities—of the shield supposedly used during the battle of Troy. That only left the idea that giants once roamed the land, evidence for which was sketchy and which Jules had not yet accepted as fact. Underground, it had seemed all too plausible. But while there was a world of difference between fossils and intricate carvings, no one had had time to examine them closely enough to make such a determination.
After only a few hours, they gave up trying to pry information from the intelligence officer and got some sleep instead. Jules was way ahead of them, having snoozed on and off, then refreshed himself with four straight hours of slumber before his ears started to pop during the descent.
They disembarked into cool sunshine, the airfield standing at an altitude of at least 5000 feet above sea level. It was certainly remote, with grassland on one side and mountains hazy in the distance on the other. It wasn’t military, but it wasn’t civilian either. Highly efficient, cheap-suited agents ushered Tane’s guests from the tarmac as soon as they set foot upon it, hurrying them into a hangar. The personnel were pitched at them as a courtesy, but Jules got the distinct impression it was to prevent the team from deviating elsewhere on the property.
The metal doors closed behind them, their escorts remaining outside, and Tane led them towards the small grouping beneath the wing of a fat bellied transport aircraft. Three people. Two of them women, one a man.
“Oh, what the hell?” Dan said upon recognizing the man.
Jules had spotted him, too, but kept his face neutral. If there was one thing this person enjoyed, it was surprising his opposition.
Another petty power play.
Tane made the introductions as happily as if he were presenting new employees to the office team. “I believe you fellas already know Mr. Waterston.”
If Dan had been annoyed, Toby was apoplectic. “You never told me he was here. You should have disclosed he was a part of this.”
“Toby, Toby, Toby,” Colin Waterston said. “I thought we were past this silly rivalry. After all, didn’t I lend you a hand the last time you poked your nose into ancient matters of international interest?”
“You mean we saved your ass when you were too cowardly to do it yourself,” Dan said.
“We’re still waiting for that thank you,” Charlie added.
“Indeed, indeed.” Colin clasped his hands together. He had the bearing of a hawk crossed with a jellyfish, his haughty manner clashing with his lack of spine. Jules had found him to be useful and resourceful, but very much inclined towards decisions that ingratiated him with his superiors and to promote his own station. “But this matter is of rather greater importance than a few trinkets or a terrorist attempt to reawaken an old virus or excavate a cathedral in Mexico.”
“That’s why we keep asking about our involvement,” Jules said. “We’re not commandos. I sure as hell ain’t some special forces super soldier. If the North Koreans are gonna use this tech to attack their enemies, isn’t diplomacy the first step?”
“Absolutely. Your presence here is not without conditions. And I am yet to be convinced that your slapdash attitude towards protocol and caution will reap rewards.”
“But let’s not be hasty,” Tane said, playing peacemaker. “It isn’t Colin you need to impress.”
“It’s me.” One of the women stepped forward, the older of the pair, a tall woman with a no-nonsense bob and a skirt suit Jules would expect to see on an accountant or—yes—a politician.
“I ain’t here for a job interview,” Jules said. “Someone needs to start tellin’ us what our job is gonna be, or I walk.”
“I’m Julia Grainger,” the woman said. “I’m the Minister for environmental protection.”
“I’m real sorry, Mrs. Grainger,” Bridget interjected. “But we must insist on you being candid with us.”
Tane again adjusted his position, gesturing towards Julia Grainger. “There’s expertise required, and I am sure you can help. Minister, declassify the Ahua project and we can move along.”
Grainger turned to the younger woman, dressed in a cheaper version of the Minister’s suit, carrying a binder and a soft leather briefcase. Her demeanor screamed assistant. “Anything to add to your report from ten hours ago?”
The assistant passed a sheaf of papers from within the binder.
“No, ma’am,” Tane replied. “It’s all in there. All except certain things I haven’t observed.” He looked pointedly at Colin. “But he can confirm they have resourcefulness.” He then turned to Jules. “And something a bit extra.�
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Jules chose not to elaborate for him. If they wanted to know anything specific, they should ask.
“Okay,” Dan said. “Let’s get it all on the table. You discovered some sort of ancient tech under one of your mountains. Or some inland sea. Or you mined an orb that you can’t explain?”
Grainger stared at him with the pinched annoyance of a schoolteacher staring down an immature and troublesome brat.
“If it is,” Toby added, “you don’t need to play games like this. We have a plethora of information, knowledge, and experience that could be of use. We are happy to advise anyone who is seeking to stop an aggressive country from taking advantage of it.”
“But we don’t fully understand it,” Charlie said. “We kind of know how it works, not why. We get the connections, the quantum nature of how these orbs throw molecules and neutrinos through the earth at one another, but that doesn’t mean we can control it. It doesn’t make us experts. We’re archaeologists, not detectives. Not spies or scientists.”
“It makes us more expert than them.” Dan stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled a smug expression aimed at Colin. “Isn’t that right, Bertie Wooster?”
Colin took a moment to realize Dan was talking to him. “I can attest they have meddled with powers they do not understand. So far, they have been lucky. I cannot say if you can trust them with the Ahua project. They tend to go their own way rather than following the correct order of things.”
“What is he doing here, anyway?” Jules asked, unable to play nice much longer. “He’s British. This is New Zealand. Most of this went down in America. North Korea seems to be the bigger threat. Someone wanna come clean on this arrangement?”
Colin cleared his throat and folded his arms, smiling as he usually did when he had a point to make. “This is a multinational operation. And we cannot risk loose cannons making it worse.”
“I’ll tell them the basics,” Tane said to Julia Grainger. “We’ll fly them out, and if at any point I reckon they’ll be a hazard, I’ll dump them, and you can run them home.” He glanced around the Lost Origins folks, settling on Professor Garcia. “At our expense, of course.”