Harker turned his head stiffly to see McCray himself leaning against the rear wall with his arms folded casually. ‘I have been known to be wrong… from time to time,’ he conceded.
Harker awkwardly returned his gaze to Wilcox as painful spasms rippled through his entire frame. The ex-Pope looked different somehow, his nose thinner and cheekbones higher, but it was unmistakably him. ‘What have you done to me?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, my little lamb,’ Wilcox replied, clearly taking great enjoyment from the pain Harker was in. ‘It’s nothing that cannot be reversed. Doctor, if you would.’
Appearing to Harker’s right, a man in a smart white jumper knelt beside him and pressed a needle into Harker’s arm, before injecting him with a small amount of clear fluid.
‘It should only take a few seconds now to flush out the toxin,’ the medic stated casually, before withdrawing.
‘Thank you, Doctor,’ Wilcox offered politely. ‘I will call when we need you again.’
A pensive silence descended amongst them until the man had disappeared through one of the security doors behind. Then it was Wilcox who spoke first, with a glint in his eye. ‘Feeling better?’
The heavy sweats afflicting Harker’s body were already beginning to ease and that suffocating sense of fear began to subside. He began to feel the haze lifting as his rational thoughts now returned, and with them the same barrage of questions that had filled his head prior to that nightmarish elevator ride down into hell.
‘What the hell was that stuff?’ Harker sputtered, wiping the remaining sweat from his brow.
‘Oh, just a little something we cooked up,’ Wilcox explained. ‘Its actual name is full of abbreviations and scientific symbols, but for your simple mind let us call it liquid fear. It renders the recipient a jabbering wreck and highly susceptible to any ideas one might impose upon them. I had it injected into you whilst you were unconscious.’
Harker pulled himself to his feet, grasping the nearby table for support, and he took a deep breath as the last vestiges of nausea and dizziness deserted him. ‘I thought you were dead… and what happened to your face?’ He panted, feeling the urge to take a swing at Wilcox who was within reaching distance. But, sensing Harker’s rising anger, McCray appeared at his side and then stood next to Wilcox with a cautionary expression on his face.
‘No foolishness remember, Professor,’ the assassin barked, then pulled aside to let Wilcox lean closer towards him.
‘Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated… as they were intended to be. And as for the new look,’ Wilcox ran a finger across his cheek, ‘well, as you know, the old one had become far too well known.’
‘Of course,’ Harker replied with a hint of sarcasm, ‘and I suppose you personally are responsible for everything that has happened over the past few days… Although how and why I have no idea.’
Wilcox pulled his head back with a puzzled look. ‘In point of fact it is you yourself that bears the responsibility for everything that has happened recently, whether you realise it or not.’
‘Me?’ Harker almost choked at the idea, and he glanced over at McCray who immediately stiffened as if preparing to subdue their guest if needed.
Wilcox slowly nodded before he placed his hands behind his back and began to pace back and forth in his typically arrogant manner. ‘Let me tell you a story that begins with the appointment of a man to the highest position in Christendom. A man selected as pontiff of Rome, who would go on to dazzle the world with undeniable truth that the Second Coming had occurred and that Jesus Christ once more walked among us, and that under his supreme guidance a new world could rise from the ashes of a religion that, having become so corrupted and watered down, barely resembled the greatness it once was. And then this glorious notion of a second golden age was halted in its tracks, when this great man’s vision was brought to a halt as he stepped in a piece of shit that ruined his shoes.’ Wilcox stopped his pacing and glared over in Harker’s direction. ‘You are the piece of shit, by the way, and the shoe was mine.’
‘Yes, I guessed that.’ Harker said, rolling his eyes.
‘Of course you did. It’s fairly obvious,’ Wilcox replied and then resumed his slow pacing. ‘But let us imagine for a moment that you never stuck your greasy little hands into my affairs and instead follow the journey that this great man had planned to its natural conclusion, shall we?’
‘You know that speaking about oneself in the third person is usually considered the trait of a problem mind, don’t you?’ Harker interjected with a smile.
‘If you interrupt me once more, I shall ask Mr McCray here to slowly cut out your tongue, understand?’
Harker simply nodded his head while taking a measure of satisfaction from Wilcox’s momentary loss of temper, then the ex-Pope continued with his account of all the things that should have occurred.
‘As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, while the world at large fretted and debated the validity of this Second Coming, and they argued amongst themselves, the Pope would have ultimately revealed the existence of a prophecy, the true nature of which had been shielded from the public for over seventy years. Namely the three Secrets of Fatima… the true Secrets of Fatima that until that moment had never been acknowledged by the Church. These Secrets would foretell a series of events including the Second Coming of Christ, which would either culminate in saving the world as we know it or else in its total destruction. These Secrets would identify places around the planet where such cataclysms or miracles would occur, and reveal that a single man of greatness – and he alone – would be responsible for halting the approaching doom.’
He paused thoughtfully, then continued. ‘The first miracle would occur in France, inside the great Notre Dame Cathedral where a terrible event would occur, at the same time, coincidently, where that great man – myself, the Pope – would be visiting. And, as a terrible plague of death took hold of the faithful, it would be the Pope alone that was left standing after having vanquished the evil that sought to take hold and destroy his flock. With much reverence and fanfare, the Pope then would have to make his way to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, after being visited during a prayer by God Himself. And once again, as the forces of evil sought to eliminate the Holy Land, it would be his arrival there that once again halted the spread of this scourge of Satan that sought to take hold of a world that had fallen into such degeneracy. By now news of the devastation resulting from these tragedies and the miracles the Pope had performed in response would have circled the globe, and much of the bickering surrounding the cause of these events would be silenced and agreed upon. And then further so after reports of vicious animals appearing and disappearing around the earth and, under the onslaught of earthquakes and tidal waves, the still faithful would look to the only man who seemed able to quell these cataclysms that sought to destroy everything good.’
At this point he gave a smile of triumph. ‘And then, during a truly remarkable speech delivered from the Vatican, the Pope would perform a type of cleansing ceremony, and instantly the cataclysms would halt. Then humanity would know the truth that the words of the Bible were not just cautionary tales but instead a reality of the planet we inhabit. A reality in which a higher power does exist and that dark forces do seek to control the weak, and that only by showing the faith in the Church, and the Pope who had saved them, could such forces be held at bay.’
Wilcox paused and allowed himself to revel in the idea, before resuming his pacing back and forth. ‘Of course, there would still be many Doubting Thomases who would initially refuse to believe that these events did not stem from more natural explanations. But faith is a potent force and when a person is shown a miracle that they can experience for themselves and that they are part of, and not just listening to a story then something remarkable takes place. The belief can solidify into something unbreakable and unshakeable, until finally it becomes irrefutable. I once told you that people want, no they need to believe in something. Something bigger tha
n themselves. And it is this very ideal that transforms into hope and is one of the most basic needs of the human spirit. Take away hope and you have little to keep you going, to push you into getting up in the morning or putting one foot in front of the other. The Second Coming was destined to strengthen this belief and to set them on the right course once again. But this series of cataclysmic events was meant to take it a step further. Any doubts would therefore be cast away and any uncertainties resolved, forcing those willing to accept one truth above all others.’
Wilcox paused and turned to face Harker, his eyes glazed with self-assurance. ‘That I and all those that follow me are humanity’s only salvation. And indeed that I am their saviour and, for all intents and purposes, I am their god.’
An uncomfortable gulp rippled down Harker’s throat as he took in this display of complete insanity but he managed to remain quiet and motionless. For all the while he was under the watchful eye of McCray, who had produced a silver flick knife from his pocket halfway through Wilcox’s rant, and was now tapping it menacingly against his palm.
‘That was,’ Wilcox continued, his face contorting in anger, ‘until you turned up with you Templar amigos and took it upon yourselves to murder my brothers and destroy our carefully crafted plans. You robbed me of the chance to unite the believers of the world under my leadership and, in doing so, made me redundant even in the eyes of the Magi council. At first, I will admit, I was at a loss and at my lowest ebb… but, as is so often the case, success can rise from the ashes of failure and evolve into a far greater victory. A victory that is gaining in momentum even as we speak. You see Alex, your destruction of our plan to bring Christ back to the Earth – and thus all that would follow – gave me an idea that could change the world far more irrevocably than I ever considered possible. And to think that without your intervention none of this would have become a reality, for why focus on changing the world around you when instead it can be rebuilt in your image. Why not start over with a blank slate and dispose of the useless and rebuild only with those that are worthy. Just as during the Dark Ages, when the Church set about rewriting history and eliminating books, ideas and even people that did not conform to their new way of thinking, we will now proceed to do likewise, just on a more industrial scale – and you have been the instigator.’
He paused briefly to reflect. ‘In the past four months, since you destroyed our plan and stole the child from us, your reputation has been surrounded by conspiracy and speculation that you were part of it, and indeed seeking to withhold any knowledge of the Second Coming and all that it entails. Further still that you have been in collusion with the Church to withhold these details, for whatever reason. And, as you well know, this scent of conspiracy or even treachery – however you wish to describe it – has been following you through the media ever since. So I decided to capitalise upon this. Instead of myself, as Pope, discovering and averting further cataclysmic events, I saw no better way to convince an already sceptical public than by having you, the conspiratorialists poster boy, now unveiling the Secrets of Fatima… Secrets that didn’t foretell the biblical terror of things to come, and how this could be prevented, but just declaring that it was happening regardless, and that the only action left to humankind was to prepare for it.’
At this point Wilcox began to smile menacingly. ‘Simply put, I needed a harbinger of doom whom people would likely believe and the individual perfectly suited for the job was you Professor Alex Harker. And I must congratulate you on doing an excellent job. So far hundreds of millions around the world now believe that we are under attack from some supernatural force foretold in the Book of Revelations and this has become fused, at some level or other, in the minds of believers everywhere.’
With an arrogant smile Wilcox made his way past the still vigilant McCray towards a closed door at the end of the room. There he stopped, turning back to face Harker who remained dutifully tight-lipped even if the expression on his face was one of bewilderment. ‘Christians call it Armageddon, Muslims call it eschatology, whilst Hindus refer to it as the Age of Kali. But my brethren and I know it by a different name.’ Wilcox grasped the door handle and swung it open, motioning for Harker to join him there, which he did with McCray dutifully at his side. ‘The word is HAARP.’
Harker followed him through the steel door and emitted a gasp at the sight that greeted him as the ex-Pope raised his arm and gestured flamboyantly across the large room ahead.
‘And the angels will play their harps and the disbelievers of the world will shudder at the approaching dawn, as the righteous cry aloud in exultation of the heavenly things now to come.’
The room contained rows of work stations spaciously arranged open-plan next to one another. Each desk was equipped with a state of the art computer and various monitors, all facing a gigantic LED screen mounted on the far wall. A digital representation of the Earth’s land masses was displayed on it surrounded by numerous split screens full of numbers and data, the meaning of which Harker had no idea. It reminded him of images he had seen of the Houston control centre, except that here only ten or so people manned the various desks, all of them intently focused on their own portion of the room. Not one of them even batted an eyelid at Harker’s entrance.
‘You know what the Kardashev scale is?’ Wilcox continued, not even waiting for Harker to reply. ‘It is a method of measuring any civilisation’s level of technological advancement. It’s a theory devised by a Soviet astronomer which demonstrates how technologically advanced a civilisation has become, and how it measures up to the rest of the cosmos compared to other space-faring cultures. As I said it is, of course, just a theory because we don’t yet know of any other civilisations other than our own but, the theory is based on the amount of usable energy a civilisation has at its disposal. Regarding the Kardashev scale, there are three stages, and to keep things simple I will explain it in terms your feeble little mind can comprehend. Stage one indicates a civilisation that has the technological ability to control all the available energy produced by its own planet. Stage two is the ability to control and use the energy produced by its own sun and solar system, not unlike, say the mythology of Star Trek. And, finally, stage three is where a civilisation is able to harness the energy potential of its own galaxy much akin to say the Star Wars universe, using the same analogy. Now, of course, stages two and three will remain out of human reach for thousands if not hundreds of thousands of years yet stage one is another matter altogether. It was the famous and much lamented astrologer Carl Sagan who believed we may only be one hundred years away, or less, from reaching a stage-one type civilisation, in that our developed technology would then allow us to harness all the Earth’s energy for our own needs.’ Wilcox turned back to face Harker, who was still in the depths of confusion as to the relevance of anything the Magi leader was now explaining. ‘Now, Alex. I can see you’re wondering what this has got to do with anything. Am I correct?’
Harker remained silent but offered a perplexed nod much to the satisfaction of Wilcox, his arrogance never deserting him.
‘Well, one of the major milestones for reaching this first stage is to control the very engine that governs our world. It is an engine that, for all intents and purpose, is invisible to the naked eye, and the only glimpses we see of it are via its consequences. It is this engine that, through technology, we are now able to control.’
Finally, Harker realised what Wilcox’s long-winded, riddle-like explanation was referring to, and a deep sense of foreboding overcame him as the word slipped from his lips. ‘Weather? You’re talking about the weather?’
An unpleasant smile appeared on Wilcox’s face, and his eyes lit up at the somewhat nervous tone in Harker’s voice. ‘That is exactly what I am talking about.’
‘But that’s not possible,’ Harker argued. ‘People would already know about it.’
‘People do know about it,’ Wilcox contradicted, still smiling. ‘They’re just not the type of people who would pass it on to a wider publi
c.’
Harker bowed his head and mulled over the fantastic proposition being laid out before him. It would explain some of the cataclysmic events during the past few days but surely it was the stuff of science fiction. Wasn’t it? ‘How?’ Harker stammered looking back up at Wilcox with keen interest.
‘Ever heard of Nikoli Tesla, one of the fathers of electricity? Well, what you may not know is that upon his death all of his patents and ideas were confiscated by the FBI, most of which were then stored away in the bowels of their archives. There they gathered dust until in the early Nineties some of these ideas were revisited. After the fall of the Soviet Union, the military still had a huge amount of government money at their fingertips and, with the loss of its main adversary, some of the cash was pumped into ideas that had not been seen to be as important to America’s defence from the red menace. Amongst many other clandestine projects, they began to sift through much older ideas, and one of these was a theory put forward by the great man Tesla himself. The idea was passed on to a research-and-development company buried within the military industrial complex which was one of the Magi’s considerable number of subsidiaries, and thus HAARP was born. It stands for High Frequency Active Auroral Research Programme, and essentially it is composed of just a series of transmitters and antennae which produce, at any a single moment, 3.6 megawatts of power which is then aimed at a specific spot located on the outer edge of the atmosphere. This in turn superheats the surrounding area and then, acting not unlike a mirror, the energy is focused back down on to a predetermined section of the Earth.’
Wilcox began to smile mischievously. ‘And it is then that remarkable things begin to happen: tremors, minor earthquakes, as well as major air distortion which can culminate in storms, even tornados. Now that was just one facility originally, so we decided to build four more of them around the globe, giving us total coverage. And, when combined, we realised that the signal strength only magnified the effect: one you have witnessed first-hand back at Chernobyl and at the Vatican. And it is from this very station where you stand now that we can link up all five facilities with devastating effect.’
The 4th Secret Page 38