Two of the platoon's cars rammed into each other at the bottom of the hill below the palace. With the skill of a precision driver, one of the two cars pushed the other over the edge of the road and sent it sliding down a small ravine. The command post thundered up to the scene of the fake accident to stage a rescue operation. With its emergency lights flashing brightly in all directions, the heavy-rescue truck allowed Tasha to block one side of the road and keep control over the traffic that trickled past.
The main screen of the command post was filled with a night-vision satellite image of Sanssouci palace and its surrounding streets. The cell phone I.D.s from each of her covert soldiers of misfortune, formed a circle around the compound. Another screen showed intercepted emergency calls from members of the general population who saw the accident outside. Isabelle and Ryan disappeared from Tasha's view as they entered the palace's main entrance. A feeling of slight relief filled Tasha about the fact that Gene had broken off his plans and was missing from his own coronation. It would have been an even greater defeat, had Isabelle managed to come face to face with Gene.
Isabelle and Ryan had entered the palace's ample foyer. An environment of splendor and wealth surrounded them. A brilliant chandelier below the large rotunda illuminated the palace's entry with what must have been a thousand candles. Its warm flickering light gave off a sense of history. Society members in tuxedos and elegant gowns were milling about. Classical music emanated from a set of double doors that lead to the gardens, where the ball was in full swing. Ryan and his stunningly gorgeous date stepped onto the terrace that overlooked the lavish gathering. Seven tiers of well-manicured gardens lead down to a plaza. The fountain at the center of the paved area below glistened against the starry winter sky. Staged in front of the fountain was a philharmonic orchestra. Several couples were dancing to the music of Strauss. Servants dressed for a royal court were serving meat and farm-raised sea food from every continent, one on each tier.
Isabelle descended the long set of stairs that lead down the middle of the terraced gardens to the dance floor, Ryan in tow - a few steps behind. The orchestra played the first few bars of one of the waltzes from Strauss' Stories From the Vienna Forest. Ryan looked Isabelle in the eyes.
"Shall we?"
Isabelle graciously accepted, and carried herself like royalty on her way to the parquet with an ecstatic Ryan. The orchestra filled the night with the sound of a magnificent waltz.
Isabelle and Ryan danced in front of the fountain, surrounded by other couples, as if they have been born into that kind of life.
33 LIONEL
It was at this very moment that an event on the other side of the globe would jeopardize Isabelle's will to continue her quest.
Troopers had been the only pedestrians in her father's neighborhood. Armored patrol cars and an occasional morgue van could be seen driving through the streets around Lionel's house. The effects of the bio-engineered disease that the Troopers had injected into his body had reached their final stage. Lionel was on his living room couch. A woolen blanket woven in native Alaskan patterns covered his sweaty and shivering body. A tea set and a collection of herbs on the table before him bore witness to his unsuccessful attempts to flush out the deadly organism. He knew Isabelle didn't heed his advice to avoid a fight with Apophis, but for him it was too late. A bamboo frame on the side table held a photo of Isabelle at a formal function. In the picture, she was accepting her first journalism award. The picture was taken the year after Lionel had made her news director of his three Alaskan television stations. It was the proudest moment of his life after teaching her the important role journalists played as society's watchdogs. Lionel had always emphasized to his daughter the responsibility bestowed upon their craft to independently keep the people informed of the meddling of industry and government. Bearing a responsibility so great, theirs was the only profession whose conduct was specifically protected by the Constitution in its very First Amendment.
He knew that against his better advice, Isabelle was risking her life on a quest for her biggest story, the real truth that no one told anymore. Lionel picked up the picture, he could feel his daughter's love for him was what had really sent her on her mission. Despite the discomfort the disease was causing him, a smile came to Lionel's face. He had accomplished what he sought in this lifetime. His offspring had gone to fight darkness and he had been able to give her some of the tools she needed to be victorious in this most difficult of battles.
His final breath left Lionel's laboring lungs. His hand released the picture, letting it drop to the carpet by his feet. His body slumped over as his spirit returned into the ether from which it came.
In Spitsbergen, Tonati had been keeping Fuji company by the fireplace. The puma's head perked up. His role in the family had been a very spiritual and mystical one. Tonati never acted much like most cats his size. Since he had been a cub by Isabelle's side, Lionel had noticed the puma never needed to be trained or given rules. He had spent many sleepless nights listening to Tonati's heartbreaking cries. To maintain a license to house a live puma, the State of Alaska had given the family several provisions. Tonati had to be kept on a chain during the day and put in an escape-proof cage overnight. Lionel remembered the loss of freedom caused the cat such physical pain, he was worried Tonati wouldn't live past the first summer. Tonati never acted angry or even roared but became sad instead. Isabelle and Lionel allowed Tonati to roam freely, he had always understood the importance of staying out of the public's eye. At first, Lionel had been worried about the damage a wildcat might do to a home. He soon found out about the puma's superior intellect when Tonati acted responsible and considerate with furniture and carpet. He had made the cat part of the family and Tonati treated the house like his home, never damaged a single priceless rug, painting or curtain like most would expect. Tonati had an amazing ability to sense Isabelle and her moods, there was a spiritual connection that Lionel and Isabelle had shared with Tonati. With the death of Lionel, some of his spirit that had always looked out for Isabelle continued on in Tonati and grew stronger by the hour. Tonati had carried some of that spirit since his birth, the effects quickly manifested when the family noticed the puma and Lionel shared many habits. Both liked to only eat in their designated dining areas, neither would consume a whole meal in the kitchen. The two even shared their dislike for the color yellow, despite the fact that Tonati's vision was said to be mostly in blues. Isabelle had learned early on to keep a clean house as the cat refused to enter a messy room, much like Lionel.
As Lionel's lifeless body remained slumped on the couch, a red light on the wireless bracelet illuminated. It notified the Apophis Vaccine Troopers of his demise.
34 ALL HOPE IS LOST AT SANSSOUCI
At Schloss Sanssouci in Berlin, the grand ball had been a busy who's who of prominence from politics and industry, everyone still expecting Gene as the guest of honor. Many guests were curiously anticipating Gene's historic announcement. Only a select few knew of Gene's plan to declare himself emperor of the world and of those only three knew how he was planning to subjugate the world without resistance. Ryan had been enjoying the waltz with Isabelle. This was all anyone could have wished for on a first date, at least for the public portion. The dreamy moment came to an abrupt halt when Isabelle froze in mid-step and let her hands go off Ryan. She felt ill, Isabelle knew something really big had gone wrong.
"I need to sit down. Something's not right."
She turned and walked off the dance floor. Ryan, unsure what just happened tried following her but his path was blocked by dancing couples with every step. Isabelle walked up the seven sets of stairs to the palace. Unaware of the full reason for her discomfort, she had felt the bond between Lionel and Tonati break. As she glanced at the opulent building, Isabelle noticed the garden's main source of illumination, a powerful balloon-light that floated over the rotunda's green copper-roof. It mimicked the light of the moon and gave the evening a natural flair. She felt the warmth from the heaters on
both sides of the stairs that made this a comfortable winter night outside. Even on a small scale, Apophis seemed to have a knack for altering nature. Isabelle felt off-balance. Her stomach hurt, but not from its digestive function. It was something much deeper, more spiritual than biological. Since she was out to save her father, she couldn't afford to think about the fact that the worst might have happened back home. Isabelle glanced at the various culinary creations along her way. It didn't help the feeling in her stomach to see antelope steak on the African tier or seal sausages that were stacked on a silver platter on the Antarctica terrace. Isabelle looked ahead, one more long set of stairs lead to the top tier. It was the most brightly lit portion of the park. In the center of the plaza laid the palace’s rotunda with its two immense wings extending to either side. Isabelle noticed one of the guests with a familiar face standing a bit awkwardly by himself. The man was nervously sipping on a highball. The last time Isabelle saw him, his hand was holding the model of a helium atom. Isabelle was looking at Doctor Kenshin. It was her video call with him which lead to her race around the world. She went towards him in a direct line.
"Doctor!"
"Isabelle. Your face is all over the news. What are you doing here in Berlin?"
"I doubt anyone here watches TV, but let's go in here and talk."
The rain earlier had warped the frame of a set of glass doors, which had sprung open. She walked through and pulled Kenshin by the hand that wasn't busy keeping his drink from spilling. She had entered the palace's throne room. Red carpet lead across a grand hall decorated in rare paintings and jewels. The plush purpure floor-covering lead to a lavish throne carved from emerald, covered with gold reliefs and jewels. A golden scepter atop a pedestal by the side of the throne towered over the room like the sun over the land. The flames in a fireplace several meters in height behind the throne were giving off a comforting warmth.
Outside, Ryan had found his way to the center tier where the buffet of India had drawn in many of the ball's ruthless guests. Before Ryan's disgust could even begin to flood him, the buzzing of his digital assistant drew his mind into cyberspace, but gave him little escape from a world of suffering. His face turned to stone as he read the information that had arrived.
Isabelle pushed the double doors shut. She knew Kenshin would be able to provide another piece to her puzzle. "What's really going on at the particle accelerator?"
Kenshin's eyes were those of a troubled man. Dark circles under his eyes were telltale signs of restless nights. His heart weighed on the brilliant scientist's persona. He ran his weathered fingers through his grey hair. With a heavy sigh, he took a seat on one of the velvet-covered chairs that lined the red carpet. Isabelle took the chair beside Kenshin, reached out and held his hand with both of hers. He took another deep breath. "I'm glad you're here. Before I worked at the particle collider, the biotech branch of the firm found a way to bombard tree DNA with particles. The result were seeds that would grow plants with a slight electrical charge."
This answered a lot of unasked questions for Isabelle. "The trees would be lightning magnets."
Kenshin nodded in agreement. "Gene would offer the seedlings to poor nations in reforestation programs. After the trees were fully grown, he would use his climate engineering division to lay cloud-seeds that would develop really aggressive electrical storms. He'd seek out areas that would usually not experience that sort of weather. Clouds would form within minutes and generate enormous amounts of electricity."
Isabelle: "All needing someplace to discharge."
Kenshin: "The negative charges would concentrate over the area with the positively charged trees and unload at once."
Isabelle: "Clove trees, right?"
Kenshin: "How did you know?"
Isabelle: "My mother worked in a village that had been built for a tribe displaced during one of Apophis' slash and burn operations. As part of their reparations, the firm had built a town with a hospital and a research laboratory that offered my mom the position of director of homeopathic sciences."
Kenshin: "That was your mother's village?"
Isabelle: "I was young then and don't remember every detail, but the scent was unmistakable. We were told the trees were keeping poisonous spiders from coming to the village."
One of the palace’s servants unlocked the throne room's main entrance and entered to see why he could hear people inside. He took one look at Isabelle and Kenshin before he turned about on his heel and exited as fast as had appeared while speaking into his lapel. Isabelle could hear the guard lock the door behind himself. She had to hurry to find out what was really going on. Kenshin held the key. She tried to understand his involvement.
"How did you get drawn into all this?"
Kenshin explained. "Gene lured the other scientists and me in, making us think we were going to end hunger in the world with quantum energy. I poured the last ten years of my life into this. I didn't know he was going to make a bomb out of it."
Isabelle looked around the room that was dripping with opulence. It wasn't hard to figure out the purpose of the evening. "Tonight must be his coronation - to rule the world with an iron fist. So where is he?"
Kenshin replied. "One of my colleagues was travelling here with Gene’s flytilla. He told me they changed course to the launch site. Gene wouldn't miss this unless he had a really good reason."
It dawned on Isabelle that her cause was having an effect. “The launch of what?”
Kenshin: "He developed a ceramic missile that is slung from a superconductive track. The missile is so fast, conventional ballistic weapons can't catch it."
"It carries no fuel?"
"Just a photonic warhead. A horrible weapon, which releases a powerful photon wave that vaporizes everything in its path. Nothing left, no plants, birds, people, structures. Everything is erased. The ground melts and turns to lava. He is launching this missile tonight during the fireworks display here."
Isabelle: "It could destroy the whole earth."
Kenshin: "His plan is to erase Africa and the Middle East. The world that survives would be so afraid, its people would be easy to subjugate."
Ryan slipped in from the terrace. He tried to shut the large set of double glass-doors behind him, but the warped frame would not fully close. Ryan proclaimed with a bit of panic in his voice, "We need to block the doors."
Isabelle swiftly grabbed a lance off the wall and slid it through the handles of the main entrance while Ryan and Kenshin pushed a large wooden chest against the glass doors, blocking them. Ryan had a very serious expression on his face. He pulled his glasses out of the inside chest pocket of his tuxedo and put them on as he walked towards the throne and Isabelle. He looked at her awkwardly sad.
"I am so sorry."
Isabelle sensed this would be the worst news possible. Ryan continued.
"My computer was still looking for anything de Fleur."
As if everything was moving in slow motion, she listened to Ryan deliver this information. The sounds from the ball, the guards outside, all seemed to have disappeared while Ryan's words, big as planets, filled her universe.
"Your father just passed away."
"No, No, No, this can't be," thought Isabelle as the grim news knocked her backwards like a fighter getting pummeled in a boxing match. Numb from pain, Isabelle moved to one of the room's large windows. Outside, an army of palace guards had gathered and was looking for a way in without causing a disturbance. A single tear ran down Isabelle's cheek as she looked into the night where dozens of people had gathered over food and music. The breath from her words formed a circle of condensation on the window.
"I could have been there for him. I should have stayed."
Her pain echoed across the throne room. Ryan was uneasy. He had no idea how to act in such a difficult moment. He was used to the cold logic of computers. The intricate workings of a woman's emotions were uncharted territory for the otherwise brilliant young man. Maybe this had been the wrong moment to tell her. With th
e windows locked and the main entrance blocked, Ryan thought his genius was better applied to the search for a way out. The windows wouldn't hold the palace guards for long. Ryan knew this wasn't the best time, but he had more to tell Isabelle and Dr. Kenshin, who looked helpless and lost with the situation. While picking up candlesticks and looking behind paintings, he announced to Isabelle, "Tasha has the palace surrounded."
The sound of breaking wood could be heard emanating from the entrance. Unseen by Ryan, the guards had cleared the hallway outside the throne room and were working on getting in without raising the suspicion of the guests. Inside, Ryan continued. "Oh yeah, and these guys. Tasha put a bounty on your head; one million Euros - dead or alive."
Isabelle reached into her purse and squeezed her mother's beads in the palm of her hand. She was crushed. The lightwarrior had become an orphan. Her journey across the world had neither saved her father nor prevented Gene from the terror he was about to unleash on the world. Maybe if Gene had come to Berlin, but it was her own doing that had sent him to personally ensure the launch would take place without interference. With every hopeless thought that crossed Isabelle's mind, more palace guards appeared outside until each of the double glass doors that stretched the length of the room was blocked. The door lock at the main entrance had given way to force, but the heavy chest still leaned against the entrance in a slightly tilted, upright position. The guards' ruckus had drawn the attention of a few of the guests who weren't used to such activity in their presence, and for a little while, the noise of forceful entry subsided. In its place came the whispering of commands. The Troopers outside drew automatic weapons and batons. Isabelle saw herself trapped with no hope of escape, let alone victory. Her outlook had never been so bleak.
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