Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2)

by Robert Storey

  ‘Appropriate,’ Myers said, ‘considering the current state of affairs.’

  Joiner gave him a penetrating look. ‘Quite.’

  ‘You said existed,’ Myers said, ‘and only for a short time. Are you saying they’ve been resurrected?’

  ‘Apparently so,’ Joiner continued. ‘From what I’ve been able to gather this society has been reborn, or as you say, resurrected, and over the past year has been active in Italy’s capital, Rome. Numerous suicide bombings and street riots have been attributed to the group, who seem to be growing in number on a daily basis. The Vatican has declared them an enemy of the church, which according to some is ironic, as the primary mission of the order is to protect the Holy See against the coming of the Antichrist, although there are an equal number who claim the reverse is true.’

  ‘And these are the people responsible for your abduction?’ Myers said. ‘They don’t sound organised enough to have pulled it off.’

  Joiner touched the back of his neck, where an implant had been medically inserted against his will on the orders of the Committee, another secret society of whom he was now a reluctant member. He’d served the Committee for years, using his position of power to aid them in their endeavours, and yet in recent times their goals had made him increasingly uneasy. It seemed they were directly responsible not only for the downfall of the GMRC’s Space Programme, which doomed the surface and the billions of people living on it to a fiery death, but also for Project Ares, a black project run by the GMRC’s R&D Division, the U.S. military and NASA. This project revolved around a mysterious ancient artefact known simply as the God Device. As yet Joiner was in the dark as to this device’s purpose, but from what small snippets of information he’d gleaned, it was capable of predicting the future and independent thought, two things which threatened the very existence of mankind itself.

  ‘They may have been getting help,’ Joiner said.

  ‘You suspect your Committee was behind it?’

  Joiner shook his head. ‘No, these knights, as they call themselves, want me to feed them information about the Committee. And the Committee has taken steps to root out the fanatics in Rome.’

  ‘They told you this?’ Myers said, surprised.

  ‘Not in so many words, but they knew of my abduction. If they suspect I’m beholden to these lunatics instead of them, they’ll do anything to secure their hold over me.’

  ‘Hence the implant.’ Myers sat down in the chair opposite. ‘Which reminds me, your psych evaluation came back negative. Whatever Sorensen put in your head hasn’t compromised your ability to function autonomously. Any control it was supposed to have over you was nullified by the pill given to you by that nurse.’

  Joiner’s thoughts returned to the woman who’d helped him, a sympathiser for the religious nut jobs that preached insanity and blew themselves up in the name of God. He shuddered. The thought of being controlled by such people didn’t bear thinking about. His hand went to the jamming device he’d recently had implanted beneath the skin of his chest, a device that would stop the Committee flicking a switch to activate the implant in his head, which would end his life. It also stopped the Catholic fundamentalists from threatening to expose his duplicity to the Committee, in order to get them to activate the device, which would result in exactly the same outcome: his death.

  Just thinking about the struggle to maintain a hold on his independence made his skin crawl, and sparked a cold fury deep in his soul. He teetered on the brink of being controlled by one, or even two groups, one of which was certifiably insane, the other in possession of power and influence that at times dwarfed his own considerable reach.

  ‘What news on the cyberterrorist?’ Joiner said, changing the subject.

  Agent Myers removed his sidearm, ejected the clip and inspected its mechanism. ‘Bic? The hacker has been attacking our firewalls more than ever. He even managed to get a couple of postgrads to locate telemetry on the asteroids; fortunately, they failed to upload the files before we got there.’

  ‘They gained access to our servers?’

  Myers gave a nod. ‘With the hacker’s help they did, yes. The measures we introduced to prevent him breaching our mainframes have caused him to adapt.’

  ‘They only went live three weeks ago.’

  ‘He’s a quick learner. If he can’t get direct access, he resorts to drones, and now people, to bridge the gap. In many ways he’s like the computer viruses he uses against us, but what I don’t understand is, if he knows about the underground bases and asteroid threat, why hasn’t he disclosed it to the public?’

  ‘He needs proof, concrete proof, before he exposes us.’ Joiner tapped his desk, deep in thought. ‘You dealt with these students?’

  Myers cocked his gun and flicked the slide closed. ‘They won’t be talking to anyone.’

  Joiner nodded in satisfaction. The dead could always be relied upon to keep a secret. ‘And Steiner?’

  ‘The professor has been keeping a low profile, if he still lives.’

  An image of the bearded man Joiner had once worked with appeared in his mind’s eye. ‘He lives,’ Joiner said, his eyes going distant.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  Joiner’s eyes narrowed. ‘I just know.’

  Myers didn’t pursue the matter, knowing when to hold his tongue was what enabled him to remain in his director’s confidence.

  ‘So, if the Committee is dealing with these fundamentalists,’ Myers said, ‘why stay on the surface?’

  ‘I called you here for a reason.’ Joiner glanced at his watch. ‘It seems whatever methods Dagmar Sorensen has employed to keep his secret lab in Sanctuary under wraps have failed. In the next minute a digital package will arrive exposing that which the Committee values the most.’

  Myers looked shocked. ‘The God Device?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Joiner said. ‘Whatever it is, these religious zealots have proven useful for something.’

  ‘And just in time, if the Committee are closing in on their position.’

  Joiner nodded and tapped his desk to display a clock, along with his digital mailbox. ‘It could well be the reason for their latest contact.’

  The two men fell silent as they waited for the arrival of the electronic package.

  A minute ticked by and Joiner’s annoyance grew as the time of the promised event came and went.

  More moments passed and Myers opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short as a sharp ping announced the appearance of a flashing red folder.

  ‘Incoming package received, scanned, verified and decrypted, Director,’ said the voice of the artificial intelligence. ‘Do you wish to open the enclosed video file?’

  Joiner stared at the pulsating graphic, savouring the anticipation of what might be enclosed within.

  He looked at Myers and said, ‘Computer, darken windows, extract and play back.’

  The glass panels that covered the room’s walls from floor to ceiling turned opaque, sealing off the view from outside and thrusting the room into darkness as the wallscreens dimmed to black. With the blinking and static lights from various computerised devices glowing in the dark like a miniature city, Joiner waited with bated breath for the show to begin.

  Chapter Ninety-Nine

  Malcolm Joiner, the feared Director of GMRC and U.S. Intelligence, remained in a sense of heightened anticipation as the screen before him glowed to life.

  A fuzz of black and white pixels covered the wall before a familiar voice, disguised using an unbreakable cipher-key, spoke through the speaker system.

  ‘Malcolm Joiner,’ it said, the deep resonance reverberating through the office like the voice of God, ‘you have proven a worthy adversary. Your resistance to our control was expected, but your attempts to track us have failed. Despite this, the Committee of which you are now a part has risen to the challenge, forcing our hand. As the End of Days approaches, we disclose to you our final recording in the hope your conflicted loyalties will lead you to choose the
path for which you are destined.’

  The crackle of static replaced the hiss of white noise as the voice fell silent.

  ‘Dramatic,’ Myers said.

  Joiner ignored him, too focused on what was to come to care.

  The screen continued to buzz with pixels, before an image resolved itself through the interference.

  A stark white corridor ran into the distance and moments later the scene changed to another area, a vast, dimly lit atrium which housed all manner of curious floodlit equipment. Vats of steaming green fluid fed into transparent tubing, which in turn terminated into an array of complex apparatus Joiner recognised as vaguely familiar.

  ‘Is that hospital equipment?’ Myers said.

  Again, Joiner didn’t respond, his eyes soaking up the sights and sounds of an area jam-packed with futuristic, state-of-the-art medical equipment, interspersed with white-gowned doctors and bulky machinery designed for lifting heavy loads.

  ‘... not long now,’ said a man off camera.

  Two men walked past, surgeon’s masks concealing their features as they conversed.

  ‘Has the director arrived?’

  The other man nodded and they continued on their way, their voices tailing off as they moved into the distance, traversing walkways that bisected the high-tech laboratory.

  The camera shot switched again, to an image of what looked like a concrete bunker containing a large transparent tube, from which seeped wisps of yellow vapour. The footage then moved to another corridor, shorter than the first, and sporting a large reinforced metal hatch at the far end, which was guarded by two heavily armed Terra Force commandos.

  ‘Computer,’ Joiner said, ‘zoom in on grid reference sixteen H.’

  The computer did as instructed, enlarging the section containing the two soldiers.

  ‘That confirms the location, then,’ Myers said, ‘those are USSB Sanctuary insignias.’

  Joiner wetted his lips, his thirst for knowledge an insatiable curse.

  The image vanished, plunging the room back into darkness, and the deep voice spoke again. ‘The following footage was recorded by a technician, who risked much in order to penetrate Dagmar Sorensen’s, and the Committee’s, most secret project. Watch closely, Malcolm Joiner; what you are about to see changes everything.’

  Joiner’s artificial assistant reappeared on the wall. ‘Director, the video is requesting virtual reality immersion, do you and Agent Myers wish to accept?’

  Joiner squinted against the glare from his computer’s bright white avatar. He glanced at Myers. The risks of VR were many, especially from an unsecured source. It had been known for people to be driven insane by illegal visualisations designed by various nefarious groups, as Joiner well knew, as the CIA and GMRC had pursued such technology at his behest. To control one’s enemies was a beautiful thing, but to control their minds was divine.

  ‘Has a full diagnostic been run?’ Joiner said.

  ‘Yes, Director,’ said his computerised assistant. ‘The virtual reality engine is clear of any mind-altering code, or audio. Do you wish to proceed?’

  Joiner gave his consent and two metal bands emerged through an aperture in the glass surface of his desk. Myers reached out to take his, while Joiner placed his own band to his forehead and removed his glasses. The device tightened against his skin to encircle half his head. Both men stood and moved to the centre of the room, stopping at adjacent positions indicated by two large, glowing, circular rings on the floor. Underfoot, Joiner felt a multidirectional treadmill give a little as it adjusted to his weight. A thin sheet of transparent film descended from the ceiling to encircle each of them in their own separate shimmering shroud, while flickering blue lasers traced over their bodies in a continuous strobe. Earplugs extended into Joiner’s ears, and at the press of a button a dark visor slid down over his eyes, its malleable material moulding to his face to create a vacuum-like, pitch-black seal.

  A moment later a single red light pulsed across the visor, and then an image emerged from the darkness, growing brighter by the second. Joiner found himself looking at the dimly lit atrium he’d previously witnessed on the wallscreen, except this time it was like he was really there. He turned his head to the right to see a digital recreation of Agent Myers, the render so detailed that it picked out the laces on his black shoes and the buttons on his white shirt.

  Myers’ virtual self looked up at the ceiling and then around at their surroundings.

  Joiner walked forward, the sensation of motion so real that he almost forgot he was still in his office. He reached out a hand that looked like his own and touched the side of a metal table, the surface feeling cold and solid as if it were real. An outside observer would notice the see-through film that surrounded the intelligence director mould to form the shapes of objects within his virtual reach, its tactile surface mimicking the digitised three-dimensional landscape projected from the visor onto its wearer’s retina.

  A pale shadow in the form of a hooded figure appeared ten feet away. It beckoned Joiner forward, the eerie apparition passing through obstacles like a ghost.

  ‘What do you think?’ Myers said.

  Joiner glanced at his subordinate. ‘I think it’s time to see what Dagmar’s been hiding for the Committee.’

  Joiner moved along the aisles of the secret underground lab, with Myers’ digital projection following along behind.

  They passed the luminous vats, nearby lamps reflecting a shimmering green glow onto the surrounding area. Joiner could even experience the tang of the chemicals, the acrid scent in his nostrils, the acidic taste in his mouth, the virtual reality system in his office using smart spray technology to recreate what the original recording device had measured.

  The two men worked their way towards the far end of the atrium, the far walls on either side cast in dark shadows. Bypassing a couple of lab technicians, Joiner soon found himself in one of the white corridors he’d seen before. At the far end, the two Terra Force soldiers remained guarding the large hatch that led into the area beyond.

  There was no sign of their ethereal guide, and as Joiner reached the closed gateway he pressed a button on his visor band, which allowed him to pass through the visual creation. On the other side he emerged into a large four-sided chamber, separated into five partitions by thick curtains made from a semi-transparent fabric. The ceiling of the prison-like room – or lack thereof – opened out into a darker expanse, where a plethora of holographic workstations lined the perimeter atop the forty-foot-high walls, their translucent screens revealing the reverse of the real-time graphs and data on display. A host of scientists manned these monitoring stations, and Joiner wondered again what the GMRC’s R&D director had concealed from prying eyes.

  Myers disappeared through the first curtain barring their way and Joiner pushed on in pursuit, annoyed at his agent’s lack of protocol.

  Beyond a second curtain Joiner stopped beside Myers, who stood looking up at a fifty-foot-high monolith, the ancient structure gleaming like damp rock beneath the glare of floodlights positioned around it. The strange monument’s pentagonal design formed a seven-sided prism, twenty feet in width.

  Comprising five vertical sides, one glaring feature captured the attention like no other. In the distant past a large rectangular void, starting ten feet above its base and measuring thirty feet in height and ten wide, had been hewn out of the structure’s core. Recessed in the front of this void, a glass-like panel held back a mass of viscous liquid, which swirled in slow, lazy eddies, merging pale and dark fluids from within in unending spirals.

  Complex banks of equipment surrounded this strange creation, their many thick black cables terminating at the sides of the rocky edifice. And close by, a team of scientists busied themselves around the monolith, assembling an array of equipment in preparation for whatever was to come.

  ‘What do you think it is?’ Myers said, moving closer to it.

  Joiner stared at the monument’s dark, glistening surface. Despite having glimp
sed the relic before, he had no idea.

  ‘... it’s an Anakim relic—’ someone said.

  Joiner turned to see Dagmar Sorensen, the GMRC’s ailing R&D director, hobble into view.

  He was followed by the tall, elegant figure of Selene Dubois, the Committee’s key representative in USSB Sanctuary, and Joiner’s immediate superior within the secret society he’d worked for so long to infiltrate.

  ‘—we can’t be too careful,’ Dagmar continued, ‘it’s been buried for hundreds of thousands of years. One mistake will destroy the precious cargo within.’

  ‘You promised us days,’ Selene said, ‘and it’s been weeks.’

  Joiner and Myers moved aside as Dagmar and Selene approached their position, their recorded images unaware of the two outside observers located in another time and space.

  ‘Science can’t be rushed,’ Dagmar said, grasping a handrail to keep his balance.

  ‘The Committee thinks otherwise,’ – Selene peered down her nose at him, her eyes intense – ‘this is your last chance, Director.’

  Joiner had seen that look before, and its connotations were clear.

  Dagmar remained unfazed and signalled to one of his underlings.

  A large black panel descended from a mechanism high above, covering the transparent pane in the monolith’s centre. Seconds later a shimmer of electricity flickered over the surface of the manmade scanner, revealing the contents concealed within the artefact’s heart.

  Joiner’s eyes widened in shock.

  Three large figures hung in suspended animation around a central pillar, the viscous liquid surrounding them appearing like sparkling water as the scanner laid bare its secrets.