The Silent Neighbours

by S. T. Boston

  “Do you really believe that?” Sam asked cautiously. “For one, do you think they would have been capable of engineering such a thing? And secondly, even if they could produce such a virus, why would they release it at a time when we'd virtually seen the end of all terrorist attacks? Not to mention the fact that many of their own people would have been killed. That virus was indiscriminate; there wasn't a nation on the planet that didn't become infected. Every living person knows someone who died.”

  “But they claimed responsibility,” Ackhart defended, suddenly sounding uncertain of what he was saying.

  “Smoke and mirrors,” Sam cut in with a wry smile. “Although I'm certain that no one, apart from a handful of people – myself included, know what really happened. If some small breakaway extremist group wanted the so-called honour of those atrocities, then it was an easy explanation for the governments of the world to run with. Far more feasible than what really happened.”

  * * *

  Inspector Ackhart sat back in his plastic chair and exhaled a long, over-exaggerated breath, feeling the backrest sag under his weight. This was certainly not the direction he'd anticipated his interview with Samuel Becker would go. He'd lost count of how many prisoners he'd interviewed over the years, and liked to think he could easily spot the tell-tale signs of a liar. Becker was displaying none of them. Either there was truth in what he was saying, or he was a pathological liar and a dangerous psychopath. Unfortunately, Ackhart didn't believe the second option for an instant.

  “You believe Monsieur Laurett was involved?” he asked, unable to believe he'd even asked the question.

  * * *

  “I don't believe, I know,” Sam replied with conviction.

  “Is this some kind of domestic terrorism?”

  “No!” said Sam firmly. “If only it were that simple. The group he was involved with were far more dangerous than any threat we've ever known.” Sam saw the inspector turn his gaze to the recording device. “Just look at the events in the few weeks before the virus, and the few weeks after. During that World Summit, three of the delegates disappeared. Euri Peterson, Tillard, and the chap you mentioned who worked with Laurett – Jacques Guillard. Then the next day, John Remy – the U.S. President – turns up dead. Suspected assassination by one of his own Secret Service Team, Robert Finch.” Mentioning his name made Sam pause, as he recalled how he'd shot Finch at point blank range in the head, back in the Pyramid. “Then two weeks later, this virus appears. Look hard enough and you'll also see that on the day the virus first made an appearance, there was a major seismic event reported in Egypt, near the Plateau, that caused substantial damage to the Great Pyramid of Khufu. The story was, not surprisingly, dwarfed by the EMP that fried the globe and left us in the shithouse situation we're in now. Another smoke and mirrors event which the scientists of the world put down to a massive solar flare they never saw coming. Fast-forward another eight days, and we see a major storm hitting the planet that lasts for seven days, causing widespread flooding. Following that the virus is gone, leaving one in seven people dead. As you well know, that unusual storm was once again put down to solar activity disrupting Earth's weather patterns on an unprecedented scale. Because all of our technology was useless by then, scientists were never able to quantify the claim. I figure they were just too embarrassed to admit they had no clue how it all happened and had to offer some feasible explanation to a very demanding public. If they could have, they would have found that none of those events were linked to a cosmic occurrence at all.”

  Inspector Ackhart massaged his temples with his fingers. “What exactly is it that you think you know, Monsieur Becker?”

  “Like I said, inspector, I'll tell you everything. The question is, how far down the rabbit hole do you want to go?” Sam smiled at the phrase, recalling how Laurence Fishburne had asked Keanu Reeves the exact same thing at the start of the first Matrix film. It was a cheesy line, but it somehow fit the situation.

  “I think maybe I should start recording this, it might be evidence of your insanity when this whole mess comes to trial.”

  “No recording devices,” Sam fired. “If you want to know, this is between you and me. I have reason to suspect that I might be in danger.”

  “How so? You're in police custody – apart from facing a long prison sentence, and possibly the death penalty if the Americans choose to extradite you for the crimes committed on their soil – you are, for the time being, quite safe and secure.”

  “Something Laurett said before I killed him,” Sam replied uneasily. “And the fact I'm locked up offers no protection from these people – they have a very long reach. If things start going bad, as I suspect they will, it will pay to have someone of authority who knows the truth, whether you believe it or not. I fear that in a short time, you might have no other option than to accept what I'm about to tell you. It's going to be hard for you to accept and it will make you question everything you thought you knew.”

  “Very well,” said Ackhart reluctantly, “I always liked a good story. So, how did you become involved in this?”

  “Well, it all started with a road trip,” Sam began, remembering how Oriyanna had been so reluctant to try and explain it all to them. He now had a little empathy for how she must have felt. “At the time, my friend, Adam, and I could never have known what we were about to become involved in. It's fair to say it has changed our lives – forever.”

  Chapter 6

  “That's your car?” asked Maya, sounding a little surprised by the old, slightly tatty-looking Mazda RX7 as Adam reached the door and unlocked it.

  “What can I say? It was cheap, and the parts to fix it were readily available. After the EMP, many of the newer cars needed a lot of work to get them running again. Older stuff, like this, was much easier to fix. Sam sorted it out for me, I was never that mechanically-minded.” Maya slid into the driver's seat and gunned the engine as Adam climbed in beside her and fastened his seat belt. “Go easy on her, she's practically a classic!” Before the car started moving, he'd located Lucie's number and hit the call button.

  “Get her to meet you somewhere that only the two of you will know about,” Maya said, as she hastily reversed the Mazda out of the parking bay and engaged first gear. “Somewhere that they won't know about!” Adam knew in an instant that his grandparents' old cottage near the small village of Alton Barnes was going to be a reasonably safe bet. Not only was it in the middle of nowhere, it had been sitting empty for the past couple of years. Unless they dug very deep, which would be nearly impossible now, nobody would never know about it.

  The property had belonged to Adam's maternal grandparents, and the couple had been married for sixty years. Adam had little memory of them, other than some vague recollections from visits to the small thatched cottage with his parents.. Sadly, they'd both died when he was seven years old. His grandfather had passed away very suddenly; collecting timber from the local sawmill one Saturday afternoon, he'd collapsed in the yard while loading his old Ford with kindling. Grandma, so Adam's mum told him, had died of a broken heart just four weeks later. Tragically it seemed they'd been unable to live without each other. The cottage was inherited by Adam's mother and aunt, who chose to keep the quaint little house, renovate it and rent it out to people for holidays. He and Sam had spent many a drunken weekend at the cottage during times when Sam was home on leave, both of them stumbling back from the local pub, The Barge Inn, after sampling a glass or three too many of the vast array of ales and ciders on offer. The walk back always took them past the sawmill where his grandfather had died, along the canal towpath, and across the road to the house. Lucie loved the place – as Adam's junior she'd had no memories of her grandparents –but she recalled long summer weeks spent there as a child with Adam and their parents, and later on with their aunt and uncle.

  “There's a place in Wiltshire,” Adam told Maya, still not sure if he could trust his new ally with the exact address. If things went sour and he had to make an escape from her,
Maya would need to scour the whole county to find him. The call to Lucie, as usual, was taking an eternity to connect. “You are – were – a part of it all. Do they know about the house in Wiltshire?”

  “I don't think so,” Maya responded as she reached the bottom of a steep hill leading to the sea. She took a right and screamed the pokey engine through the gear box. Brighton Pier sat in darkness, standing out against the clear, cold September sky. She navigated a small roundabout and kept the Mazda heading west, the cold waters of the English Channel to their left. White breakers broiled angrily as they hit the shingle beach, foaming and bubbling for a second before they were drawn back into the dark, icy water.

  “Keep heading this way,” Adam said, listening impatiently to the rhythmic clicks on the line as the call tried to connect. “In a few miles, you'll see signs for the A27; follow those toward Portsmouth.” Finally, the welcome sound of Lucie's phone rang in his ear. Maya nodded her understanding and swung the car around a slow-moving council vehicle which had a flashing orange light affixed to its roof.

  “Adam. What is it?” Lucie's voice sounded annoyed, an unusual occurrence and his bowels churned with anxiety. He hated the thought that his sister was about to be drawn into whatever mess was developing. He took a deep, steadying breath and told her all he knew.

  “Is she safe?” Maya asked when he ended the call and tucked the phone into his trouser pocket.

  “I'm not sure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think one of your kind was with her in the bar, a lone male customer,” replied Adam, making no attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice. “She's leaving now, I asked her to call again once she got clear. If anything happens to—”

  “I'm sure she will be fine,” Maya cut in, although she didn't sound certain of the truth in her statement. She took one hand off the wheel and brushed thick dark hair away from her face, securing it behind her ear.

  “I suggest that now would be the time to start talking. I don't think I trust you yet.”

  “I don't blame you,” Maya sighed . “Thank you for giving me a chance. I know I can never put right what we've done, I just hope I can stop what is about to happen.”

  Adam's stomach tightened. “This isn't just about killing us, then?” he asked reluctantly.

  “No. You form just one small part of the plan. There are bigger things in play here, something far worse. It will be easier if I start at the beginning; that way it will make more sense.”

  A strangely familiar sensation of intrigue and dread washed over Adam. Not for the first time, he was racing through the night with a strange woman who had a story to tell. For the briefest of moments, he experienced a pang of longing for Oriyanna, recalling their time together in the RV on that strange night back in the States. What he wouldn't have given, for her to be here with him now. He gazed out the passenger window momentarily and watched the beach give way to a darkened marina, which housed numerous small yachts and motor boats. Many looked as if they hadn't been used in a long time. He suspected that many would never be used again, their once proud owners long dead. Somewhere out there, across the dark expanse of the English Channel was Sam. He just hoped that whatever was happening hadn't reached him yet – it was a shallow hope, but it was better than none. Shivering a little, he reached forward and cranked up the heater. Thankfully, Maya's driving had quickly warmed the rotary engine and hot air poured out of the vent. “Back before the virus,” Maya began, not taking her eyes off the road, “I worked in the Russian office of Integra Investments. I take it you know who they are?”

  “No, sorry,” he answered. Realizing he wasn't concentrating, he forced his eyes away from the darkened marina and turned to face her.

  “They were the official face of – Buer's operation here,” she paused before she mentioned his name, almost as if it were difficult to say. “I'm surprised you didn't know that.”

  “I have very little knowledge of events before the virus.”

  “Around eighty-four years ago, when the first of the Elders came to Earth, they set up an investment firm in order to accrue assets and money. It was necessary to cement themselves firmly into Earth society for the plan to work, essential that they had decades before the virus, to build up the wealth and assets they would need. Shortly after their arrival, they began the Earth-Breed program.” Maya paused, glancing at Adam. “We were engineered in a lab,” she admitted sadly. “They wanted a race who had been born here on Earth, and who knew nothing of life on Sheol; it was believed this would be the best way to integrate the Earth-Breeds into society. The likes of those you had dealings with – as well as me – are known as second generation Earth-Breed. Our mission was to infiltrate world governments and businesses, seek out and identify the Arkkadian Watchers. Some had more involvement than others. We were engineered with differing intellects, I guess you could say we were created to be role specific. While I was created with a higher intellect, I never got involved in the hunt for the Watchers. I worked solely in the investment firm, alongside many Earth-Humans who had no idea of what we really were.”

  “Take a right here,” Adam instructed as they sped toward a small roundabout which displayed a sign for the A27 and Portsmouth. Maya swung the small car to the right, the tyres squealing on the tarmac. Adam dug his phone from his pocket and eyed it uneasily. Lucie should have called back by now, he thought.

  “Around a week before the virus hit and things went wrong, the Earth-Breeds working in various offices around the world – the ones not employed in the important roles – were called to the States. The official line was that we were being given an opportunity to visit the company's head office. A benefit that was promised to everyone; even the Earth-Humans working for us. The truth behind the announcement was far more sinister. We knew, of course, that the plan was nearing its end game. We were going to the American Headquarters in Allentown, about two hours from the company's office in New York. The Earth-Humans who worked for us would never get to the States; they were being left to die like cattle with everyone else.” Her voice hinted at sadness and regret. “You need to understand that from birth I was educated to hate Earth-Humans; we were brain washed from an early age. I knew nothing else. I didn't create or release that plague – I can't be held responsible for what they did.”

  “Do you really think you can shirk your guilt so easily?” Adam laughed bitterly. “You're all accountable in my book! So, tell me? What led to you being here now? Why switch sides suddenly?”

  “During my time working with the Earth-Humans I made many friends.” Her voice grew distant, as if she were recalling the time before the plague with some fondness, something that she didn't deserve, as far as Adam was concerned. “I even had a boyfriend,” she laughed.

  That wasn't hard for him to believe, despite his dislike for her and what she had stood for, there was no denying she was beautiful, reminding him of Oriyanna and many other Arkkadian females he'd met during his brief stay on the idyllic planet. It was easy to see how earlier Earth-Humans had mistaken them for angels. Maya, however, was not Arkkadian, she was Earth-Breed, but Adam was sure she had a hint of that alien gene in her, something that made him uneasy.

  “I began to doubt their cause,” Maya continued. “By the time I reached the US I was wracked with so much guilt, I considered taking my own life.” She took her eyes from the road momentarily and eyed him, her expression sincere.. “I could never bring myself to do it, though.”

  “And were there others like you who felt the same?”

  “I don't know. No one would ever dare voice such an opinion, it would have led to immediate execution, no questions asked.” Maya sped through the small coastal town of Shoreham-by-Sea and guided the Mazda onto the A27. “What are the curfew laws around here?” she asked,.

  “Major cities are still maintaining a one AM rule,” Adam replied, making no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice. “We'll be clear of Portsmouth and Southampton before it comes into play. Once we hit mor
e rural areas, we should be fine. They tend to let people in less-populated districts go about their business as usual. Unless we have any real issues, we'll be in Wiltshire way before it comes into effect.”

  “This is good,” said Maya, trying to sound upbeat. “Your sister should be calling soon.”

  “Let's hope so,” he sighed, feeling a little sick. “So how did things play out for you – during and after that week?”

  “Soon after the virus had been released, things started to go wrong; very wrong. I never got told the whole story to begin with, but I was aware that an Arkkadian vessel had reached Earth and a hunt had commenced to locate an Elder who survived the crash.” She turned away from the road once again and regarded Adam intently. “I have read your account of events, I know about your involvement with her – Oriyanna.”

  The mention of her name caused another pang of longing in Adam's chest.

  “Just before the EMP, we received information that our team had reached the pyramid, shortly after that all the electrical systems went down. For over twenty-four hours we had no way of knowing if we'd been successful or not. It was then when we received information from a craft we had in orbit around Earth. Some of our more sophisticated technologies still worked, because they weren't susceptible to the pulse that fried the planet. It soon became clear that they could pick up no trace of Buer, or anyone else in Egypt. The craft had detected a sizeable explosion beneath the plateau. The more senior Earth-Breeds feared that we – they – had failed. A transmission was sent to Sheol from the orbital craft; Sheol, however, is another one hundred and fifty light years further away than Arkkadia, and the signal never reached them in time. It was soon after that when we lost all contact with the vessel, and then the rains began and we knew. Fearing some kind of backlash from Arkkadia, or even Sheol for our failure, we scattered.”

  “Just as the Arkkadian people thought you would,” Adam cut in. “They had no idea how many of you were here, but they were determined to try and track down as many as possible.”