Thornfalcon (The ARC Legacy Book 1)

by Matthew W. Harrill

  Io jumped at the question. “There is no way you could know that.”

  She smiled. “Unless I've stood on the edge of a trap designed to keep it out of this realm and watched as an angel sealed the breach. That's what Tartarus is, the Hell end of the Godmissile. And twenty years ago they nearly opened it by breaching the gateway from beyond. If the Godmissile opened from that end, would it have the same effect?”

  Io was silent for a moment, as if there were no words for the gravity of the situation. He breathed in deeply, answering, “Yes.”

  Eva shook her head. “This isn't a beginning. The threat never ended. Don't you see? They just changed their line of attack. Crustallos knows this.”

  When her mother received blank looks, Samantha elaborated. “The thing beyond the deepest pit of Hell. The inhabitant of planet Nibiru.”

  Io stared. “You know its name.”

  “And I'm not the first, am I Mom?”

  “Nibiru was the name used by the leader of the cult we found in Finland, on Lake Bodom,” Eva continued. “They wanted to take me away, hide me somewhere safe so I could give birth to Nina … Nina.” Eva looked at her phone. “We could do with everybody we have now. I'd like my family together once more.”

  “Can't you call her back in?” Carrot asked, returning from the cockpit, she sat beside Samantha. “There are protocols, yes?”

  “Nina agreed to go deep cover,” Eva replied. “And now Rockwell has her. We just have to keep going.”

  * * *

  Samantha watched the mountains pass below, the peaks stabbing through the cloud line. Disrupted weather meant several detours, and most of their company chose to catch up on sleep. She was weary but not enough to close her eyes and forget the magnitude of what they were flying into.

  Io sat across from her, watching the views pass by. “It's strange, knowing I have to rely on mankind to allow me to do what should come naturally.”

  Samantha had no answer. She gave a sympathetic smile, her lips thin.

  “Is there any more in that book?” he asked.

  Samantha opened the crow book to the new pages. “Just history. Nothing of use. Thornefalcon was an Anglo-Saxon village from the twelfth century. The church was rebuilt in eighteen eighty-two by an architect, Benjamin Edmund Ferrey. The book doesn't say why it was rebuilt. Shortly after that Ferrey embarked on his journey, but not until he carved a map of the church's location into the church walls.”

  “That doesn't make sense,” Jim said. “Why carve a map of the church in the church?”

  “I guess we'll find out. He goes on to describe his journey to Darwin, Australia and how he met a Russian Anthropologist named Nicholai Miklukho-Maklai, who took a great interest in his theories on bird divination. He also met…” She paused, looking at her mother. “He also met a man called LeClerc. Edmund named one of the patterns after his home, which intrigued LeClerc. The Aussie also wanted to know why Ferrey had gone abroad after becoming such a distinguished gentleman as an architect.”

  “…LeClerc? The co-founder of ARC?” Charlotte asked, sounding surprised. “I thought they were abroad in Africa back then? You sure it's the same guy?”

  Samantha nodded. “We're in a plane with an angel headed toward a site where a demon supposedly died. Yeah, I believe this is the real guy. You know why?”

  “Because following these clues is a not-so-subtle method of finding our way into danger?” Jim asked.

  “And because, Samantha added, “it's the only way to save Tricia and Aunt Clare. You think they've been taken on a whim? They're bait. Thorsten and Alexander are working with Aeon Fall and they're working for a demon. We're all so used to ARC pulling the strings here, nobody's able to react when control is removed. Nobody except us. I'm gonna miss them all. Even stuffy Swanson. But we do their memory a disservice if we don't finish this.”

  They all gazed at Samantha in silence.

  Incensed, Samantha said, “That's the ARC way isn't it? Get the job done, worry about the casualties once it's finished. Well that's horse crap. Burying your emotions is bad for you.” She looked pointedly at her mother as she spoke. “It can fester and cause crazy decisions if left too long.”

  “A rational head—” began Jim.

  “A rational head?” Samantha interrupted. “You lot aren't rational. You're frikkin' robots! If Aunt Clare were here, she'd tell you all that logic may be good, but instinct can be better.”

  “And what does your instinct tell you at this very moment?” Charlotte asked.

  Samantha slammed the book shut. “That we're walking into an Aeon Fall inspired trap.”

  “Any suggestions?” There was a strong tone of approval in Charlotte's voice.

  “We do what they least expect. Armed with this knowledge we spring it.”

  “That could cost many innocent lives,” Io cautioned.

  “Yeah, were any rational person to attempt what we're about to undertake. But we're not going to play their game; we'll walk right in and assume control of the power station.”

  “You think you can stop this?” Io didn't look convinced.

  “No,” Samantha answered, “but you can. And they're counting on you to do it. They're also counting on Karael to defeat you. But we aren't going to let that happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because apparently Charlotte's been stashing all manner of Helltech in caches over the world and we're about to land next to one.”

  Charlotte's mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

  Samantha grinned. “It's logical. You happen to have several pieces of developmental technology just at the time when they're needed most. You ask to land at an airport other than the strip closest to your boss, who is suspected of being kidnapped, and for whom you should be tearing apart the world. And worst, you're in no way panicking about her absence. It's as if you wanted her to be taken.”

  “She's your daughter no doubt,” Charlotte said to Eva.

  Eva inclined her head. “Told you. Sammy, don't think that we don't care. You're very perceptive. We're torn up inside. Devastated. Swanson, Gila, John, all the others. Losses beyond incalculable. But we can't stop focussing. That's where you come in. It's your role to be our emotional lightning rod. It took me a decade to understand, but I used to be that lightening rod to the Council before you were born. It's not a fun role, being constantly exposed like a raw nerve. Yet, you give us perspective. Just keep doing what you're doing.”

  “What are you doing?” Io asked her. Being an angel, it was clear he was detached from the conversation and unable to keep up.

  “I'm winging it, Io,” she replied. “Mostly I'm trying to work out a way to save us, my aunt, Tricia, you, Nina, and basically the whole world. Tell me if I'm wrong, here. If a demon sets foot in Heaven, that's bad?”

  “Heaven would become corrupted and the natural order would cease to exist. Heaven would become Hell, and the reverse. There would be no purgatory, no sorting and cleansing of the damned and the worthy. Souls would become lost.”

  “Who would benefit most from that?”

  “Something not from this realm,” Eva said. “Something banished. Sammy that's brilliant.”

  “And if the Godmissile were forced from the other end?” She continued to ask Io.

  “Retaliation. The Heavenly Host would pour into hell for one massive strike against Satan.”

  “Putting all of Heaven and Hell within touching distance of Tartarus,” she concluded. “Somebody's preparing to finish the work Iuvart started before I was born.”

  “Porter Rockwell—“ began Charlotte.

  “Is a dupe, Samantha finished. “He's making noise, but what's he really done? Shown up exactly where someone sent him because we were there? Made a few broadcasts on television? That Aeon Fall soldier said a woman was in charge. He said 'her'. This is a bigger job than a distraction and I kind of like my reality.” Samantha smiled at Io as she spoke. “We're gonna find the answer and put a stop to this.”

  “And
how exactly are you going to walk into the middle of a heavily guarded nuclear facility such as Hinkley C?” Jim asked. “If you know, would you mind telling us?”

  Samantha pulled three passes from her bag, the words 'AIEA' in bold down one side. “With these. You're now all members of the Agence Internationale de L'Énergie Atomique.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Every step was a gamble, Samantha thought as she gazed out the small window. She long ago admitted to herself that she didn't have a clue what she was doing. The city of Bristol shone with a million yellow lights in the night sky to the north. These people depended on her success, although they surely didn't know it.

  The plane passed over a ribbon of traffic winding south, and then touched down with a bump in the darkness. “One angel and five people against the world,” she said as the plane taxied to a stop.

  “Sorry guys, the runway's blocked,” Carrot called from the cockpit. “We're gonna have to walk through the terminal.”

  A hand took Samantha's as she strained to see out the window. Warm, firm, reassuring, Io held her. “It will be enough.”

  Samantha snorted. “Forgive me if I don't have your confidence.” She turned to Charlotte, Io still holding her hand. “Can we get over to the hangar without drawing too much attention?”

  “Of course,” Charlotte's tone indicated this wasn't an issue. “We're just another group of tourists.”

  Samantha looked around the cabin. “You might want to take a second look. Our equipment and mannerisms scream 'Look at me, I'm up to something'. Try at least to look casual.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Will do.”

  Surprised by the meek acceptance of her request, Samantha looked back at Io.

  “You're special,” he said. “A leader. Unique.”

  Saying nothing, she smiled and stood, relinquishing Io's hand with great reluctance.

  The party of five disembarked; Charlotte and Jim lugging heavy suitcases until Io intervened carry them as if they were light as air. He grinned and laughed along with Jim's forced attempts at humor. The dynamic changed as a more relaxed group mingled with the tourist crowd, thinning out and eventually becoming an elongated line of individuals. Samantha decided it was probably better that way. Less conspicuous.

  “Scotty,” a man with a British accent called out. Samantha turned sharply, losing sight of her mother.

  A tall man in a beanie hat and red plaid jacket hurried past her, waving at a boy in the distance. “Scott! Keep hold of Jay. Don't move from there!”

  A sweet-faced girl with long red hair waved to the boy, who was maybe thirteen years old. He hustled the girl to seats at the side of the walkway. Evidently satisfied, the man turned back. “I'll go back that way. You wait here and watch for Sammy.”

  “Excuse me?” Samantha said, presuming he was talking to her.

  The stranger focussed on her for a moment, confused. Then he broke out into a smile. “I'm sorry, love. Not you. My wife over there.”

  Samantha turned to see a petite redhead, a slightly taller version of the little girl with the boy, frowning up and down the walkway, a long black coat folded over her arm. As she turned a collection of keyrings jingled on the bag she wore. “Well I don't know where she went. She was there one second. I turned around and that's it. Gone.”

  “Keep an eye on the other two. I'll retrace our steps.”

  “Don't get lost yourself,” the redhead called.

  The man glared back at her.

  “Can I help?” Samantha asked.

  With the resigned look of a woman used to chaos, she said, “Just desserts if they get lost. I tell them time and again to stay close, but they just have to mess about.”

  “What does your daughter look like?” Samantha asked.

  “Denim jacket, no sleeves, red white and blue skirt like the USA flag, and worn black cowboy boots. She's got curly strawberry blonde hair, just like yours. She's eleven.”

  “And she's called Sammy?”

  “Yes. You don't have to do this, you know.”

  “Anything for a fellow Sammy,” Samantha said, her voice jovial. Plus, she thought, it would help disguise her true mission.

  “Wait here. I'll see if I can spot your daughter.”

  Samantha moved through the crowd, looking for a small cowgirl type. Travellers bustled past, knocking Samantha about as she tried to focus. A flash of red, white and blue by a door caught her attention across the walkway and Samantha followed. Pushing through the door, Samantha found a girl, tall enough to almost be a teenager, searching around on the floor, worn black boots sticking out from under a stars and stripes skirt.

  “You okay, love?” Samantha asked.

  The girl looked up, her face a mask of panic. “My earring came out and I'm looking for it. Dad gave it to me as a present.”

  “The man in the red coat? You're Sammy?”

  The girl looked pleased and suspicious at the same time. “Yeah.”

  “My name's Samantha, just like you. Your mom with the red hair's out there worried about you. I think they'd be happier to see you safe than worry about an earring.” She reached out and took Sammy's hand.

  As she did, the girl's eyes grew dark and focussed. Sammy stopped and stared up at her, holding her gaze, hands dropping to her sides. “Don't be afraid.”

  “I'm sorry?”

  But the girl seemed to not hear her response. “They will find out who you really are. Sooner or later; it does not matter when they find out, nor how. They will fear you no matter your intent. What matters is what you do with your power. Your fate is balanced on a knife edge. You will use it for good at first. Beware of the day you can no longer distinguish. Good and evil are the same beast. When you're clouded remember the earring.” The girl opened her hand, a crystal teardrop earring resting on her palm.

  “Sammy!” A man's voice shouted from out on the walkway.

  Samantha turned to the door, pulling it open. She turned back to gather up her namesake and found herself alone. The hallway was empty. She opened the door wide to see a young girl engulfed in the arms of her relieved but still angry father in red plaid.

  “You found her then?” Samantha said, emerging onto the walkway.

  “Just came running down the hall, like the dopey little thing doesn't have a care in the world,” the father replied.

  His daughter gave him a sarcastic smirk. “Your face is the only thing that's dopey.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That's what I have to live with. I'm doomed I tell you, doomed. Miss, thanks for your help.”

  “Nice to have met you, Sammy,” Samantha called after the retreating family.

  The girl turned her head, with an uncertain smile.

  “Crystal earrings … I really am losing it.”

  * * *

  Dodging the crowded departure lounge, A strong hand grabbed Samantha, spinning her around.

  “You really do have a tendency to wander,” Jim said, watching the crowds behind her. “No one's following you though, so that's good. This way.” He showed her to a side door where the others waited.

  “I swear we could lose you in an open field,” her mother said.

  “I thought you'd be at the hangar by now,” Samantha replied.

  “Io made us wait for you.” Eva smiled at the angel, who continued watching past them, oblivious to Eva's approval.

  “I can feel a wrongness in the air. A disturbance. Samantha, what just happened to you?”

  They will find out who you really are. The words of the girl came back to her.

  “I was helping a family look for their lost daughter. It's a nightmare out there.”

  “You are closer to the truth than you think,” Io warned. “All of those people outside are scared. They can't wait to get as far away from here as possible, but they don't know why.”

  “I know why,” said Jim, letting the door go. “Because they're fifty miles away from a potential nuclear disaster. They're sensible.”

  “No, they feel a mor
e profound loss. Their connection to God is fading. Humanity is becoming truly alone. We need to show them there is something bigger in their world.”

  “Io, you can't force belief on people.” Samantha urged him forward. “It's a decision they come to on their own—the core of what belief is.”

  “You believe,” Io countered.

  “It's safe to say we have a somewhat unique perspective on the situation,” Eva replied, flashing her credentials at a guard. He frowned for a second, then opened a door onto the runway. A plane taxied by, huge twin jet engines whining as it was propelled into take-off position. She led them along a path marked with diagonal yellow lines.

  “Mom's right,” Samantha said. “If you were to go in there, show off your strength, and pronounce the existence of God, most people would look at you as if you were crazy. You could push people further away—doing Aeon Fall's job for them.”

  * * *

  A Light rain began as Eva led them away from the main terminal to a hangar on the edge of the complex. The countryside was obscured where the runway ended and the hill on which they stood dropped away. A glimmer of daylight on the horizon reminded Samantha she had gone another night without sleep, but the rain was welcome—refreshing and cool on her face. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation as a warm hand took hers, leading into the hangar. Samantha knew it was Io, and that he would guide and protect her wherever they went.

  The inside space was typical ARC—large and dark, with the faint taste of chemical cleaner in the air. Charlotte went straight to a locked door, keying in the combination on the sensor. “Time to choose your poison,” she announced, opening the door.

  One door became two, sliding forward and out to the sides. Lights blinked on, revealing an arsenal: guns, knives with oddly wired hilts, belts of grenades, rockets and a launcher.

  “Ready for the end of the world much?” Samantha murmured.

  “Absolutely,” Charlotte agreed, reaching to unhook a coil of the same rope she had used to bind Karael. “This is militarised stuff. ARC's been developing new materials, and a new power source that might one day replace nuclear energy. Eva's armour is amazing. The advances in retro-engineering have doubled, possibly even tripled in the last twenty years.”