by Sam Nash
“I’m sure you heard that, Captain, as I am sure your soldiers did too. He makes a fair point, doesn’t he? You could have a new life in the United States of America, with your family and healthcare provided until you and your men are fit and well again. What do you say?”
“You trust this man?” The captain said. She could feel his hesitation. The offer was more than he expected. The captain’s thoughts strayed to betrayal and trials for war crimes, of becoming the scapegoat in what amounted to military terrorism.
“With my life.” Mary replied. “He is my brother.” She waited patiently while Russian dialogue continued all around her, voices of hope and reason outnumbering those of distrust and doubt.
“We will help you to locate us, Mary, but you must honour your word.” A swell of relief engulfed the combined minds of the Hive. The sense of gratitude overpowered Mary. She felt it as a rush, like a heroin addict relieved of withdrawal. Her relief was abundant too. She had prevented further attacks on Utah, and potentially, in other countries also.
“When Twenty-Two awoke, and saw through the container door, was there anything recognisable in the background?” Again, she waited for them to confer.
“He said there were aeroplanes. Large passenger aeroplanes moving along the ground.”
“He must have woken up just after the transporter plane landed at Fairbanks. They could have driven you to any number of places after that.” Her level of unease was building in conjunction with the soldiers.
“No, he said that he saw a big door lowering behind the aeroplanes. The containers were inside a building.”
A building large enough to house many shipping containers with shutters that open onto taxiing aircraft. They never left Fairbanks Airport. They are in a hangar. “I have an idea where you are, Captain, but to confirm your precise location I need to leave you and take a look outside.”
“Very well, Mary. We are counting on you.”
Mary detached her presence from the security of the Hive mind and rose steadily through the darkness and into a large structure of corrugated steel. There were the shipping containers, lined up in a row with attached generators belching out diesel smoke into the air. Alone, the geomagnetic waves coursed through her cluster of energy, making her alpha waves shift and fluctuate.
Her fear of losing connection with her body and inducing another seizure crystallised her thoughts. I can do this. Just concentrate. Why didn’t I ask the Captain to come with me? That was stupid. I can do this. Setting her attention to full power, Mary drove herself through the roof of the hangar, in search of a landmark or shape that would pinpoint their exact location.
Above the roof of the building, her thoughts clouded. The normal rhythmic waves of her synaptic transmissions quivered and her vision faded. She was losing control. In the chill of the early Alaskan night, Mary struggled against the oscillations that tore at her mind. She twisted mid-air, looking down for a moment at the building she had just passed through, before losing all focus and succumbing to the spasms racking her entire being.
***
“I’ve got you little sister.” Dan held Mary in his arms, rocking her gently from his awkward position on the stool at her side. He had entered her mind soon after the seizure took hold, calming and restoring a peaceful rhythm to her brainwaves and alleviating her pain. She regained consciousness, in harmony once again with her physical form and peered up at her brother.
“I know where they are. Did you tell Yelena about the deal we offered them? Is it all arranged?” Mary sat upright and slid from the chair. She was still a little woozy, her gait was that of a binge drinker. Parth rushed to offer assistance. She pushed him away and made for the Tactical Room, both men following her down the corridor like bodyguards.
“Yelena said she would contact the NSA as soon as I told her about the deal.” Dan said, overtaking Mary with his huge strides and holding open the Tactical Room door. And sure enough, Yelena was standing next to Flynn’s desk, clutching the microphone section of the communication headset close to her mouth, in quiet conversation. Yelena glanced furtively about the room and shuffled a number of cellular phones sitting on Flynn’s desk. The minister was pacing. He slung his suit jacket over a chair and loosened his tie. Mary took her seat next to Dan and Parth in the viewing area. As she sat down, she caught sight of exchanged glances between Flynn and the minister. Flynn gave the politician an almost imperceptible nod.
“Do you have their location, young lady?” The Secretary of State for Defence towered over Mary, the folds of his skin hung forward puckering his grotesque mouth.
“Do you have an assurance of asylum for those in the Hive?” She refused to allow him to intimidate her. She wondered how he wrangled his way up to the Privy Council. How many privatisation back-handers and expensive arms trade meals he had attended with the Saudis. Beneath his brash exterior, she sensed his fear. A deep-seated inadequacy rooted at the foundations of his personality.
A long-held dichotomy of clawing personal ambition marred by character flaws so heinous, the merest suggestion of them sickened Mary. She was distracted from her exploration of his inner workings when Yelena removed the headset and confirmed the United States cooperation in assisting the Hive and their families to defect.
“Well? Give us their exact location.” The minister demanded, thrusting his arm towards the satellite view of Fairbanks on the giant screen.
“They will need immediate medical attention when you send your people in. Can you arrange that, Yelena?” Mary stalled for time. Something about the minister’s attitude did not feel quite right. His impatience seemed out of place considering she had diffused the threat of further earthquakes. The precious Stoneghost servers and Data Centre were safe, at least for now. It worried her that he appeared neither relieved nor pleased. Instead, the minister resumed his pacing.
“I can arrange for medical crews.” Yelena said, the headset dangling from her hand. The minister stopped moving, Flynn swivelled around. The room hovered in suspended animation while Mary scrutinised Yelena’s impassive face for evidence of trickery. There was none. Yelena was sincere.
Mary took a deep breath, hiding crossed fingers beneath folded arms. “They are still at Fairbanks airport, in a T-shaped hangar near the cargo bays.” As soon as the words left her lips she felt the nausea rise in her throat.
“Flynn…” The minister commanded. “Do it.”
“Sir.” Flynn tapped a few instructions into his terminal and produced a joystick from behind a monitor. The scene on the screen changed to a jittery aerial shot that altered with every move Flynn made. The long landing strips of the airport came into view as Mary and Dan caught up with events. The T-shaped hangar was just ahead of the drone’s line of sight.
“No, you can’t; they trusted me.” Mary wailed, but it was too late. Flynn had activated two missiles that scudded off at speed to intersect with the hangar. The explosion was colossal and definitive. Drone cameras recorded the expanding mass of flames and debris on its circle around the airfield. The fire glowed white hot and roared hundreds of feet into the air. Metal walls of the hangar buckled and splintered, then liquefied in an inferno to rival the portals of hell. Fairbanks Airport now had two smouldering sites of carnage at either end of their runways. No doubt the official press release would site computer failure for both events.
Would Captain Thirty-Four and his troop been aware of their deaths? Mary thought it unlikely given the medication streaming through their bodies. It would have been an instantaneous shutdown of all their communications as their physical presence expired in the explosion. No awareness of suffering or pain. The tender cord between mind and body severed, but what of the soul? What if by cutting the tether to their bodies, their immortal consciousness drifted into the ionosphere? Their experiences, personalities and feelings held forever by the magnetic forces high in our atmosphere as a global existential hard drive. Could she still forge a gateway to their psyches?
Yelena bowed her head and ge
nuflected, muttering a prayer for the fallen. Flynn relinquished control of the drone to Eielson Air Force Base command and switched the screen back to satellite feeds. Tactical fell silent. The minister stopped pacing and sat down a few feet from Mary. Tears poured down her face. Her reddening eyes fixated on the image in front of her. No words could express the depth of emotion coursing through her mind and body. What lies would they tell to the loved ones of those perished? Killed in the line of duty, perhaps, but duty to whom?
The words of the Dalai Lama floated back into her mind, his analogy between our consciousness and the duplicity of thoughts to those who purport to be working for our best interests in parliament. It was almost portentous.
Mary uncrossed her fingers. They had been no protection against the minister’s treachery. It was too late to trust her instincts. She knew that there was some hidden plot between Flynn and the politician, but had ignored it. Her gut was telling her not to trust them, but her mind assured her that all was well. Even with the best intentions, her honest monarch-like intentions, the Hive were at the mercy of a literal and deceitful cabinet minister. Worse still, her fate and that of her newly found brother, lay in his hands.
Exhaustion enveloped her. Mary felt herself droop in her seat. She could not handle anymore turmoil. Her scalp prickled and pain radiated through her neural pathways. And yet, there was still one more battle left to fight.
***
Dan touched Mary’s knee and flicked his head to one side. “Come on.” They slunk from the Tactical Room and returned to the temporary laboratory. He steered her to the refreshments table and pointed out the tiny surveillance camera nestled in the electrical socket casing behind the canister of teabags. “Wanna hear something funny?”
Mary nodded.
“Flynn’s missing little finger… the big mystery?”
“Yeah?”
“Suit-lady told me he lost it during basic training. Shot it off himself, dropping a loaded gun on the firing range.” They both snorted, in full knowledge that the surveillance recordings would ensure his secret would provide comic relief to all his colleagues. They continued their discussion internally. His voice rang clear inside her head. “There are more cameras and microphones stashed all around this room. We need to act fast if we are to engineer our release from this facility. Are you well enough for another cerebral jaunt?” Mary nodded. She would endure whatever mental exertions it took to secure their freedom.
“I think you should have a lie down, Mary. You look terrible.” Dan helped her into the recliner. “I’ll be in Tactical if you need anything.” He disappeared from her side as she arranged her limbs in the chair and sang the tune to herself.
Despite the headache, she was able to disassociate her consciousness from her body almost immediately. Haste being the watchword, Mary left her resting body behind and rushed into Tactical. Suspended above Flynn’s computer, she could see an icon depicting an antiquated telephone receiver, flashing green. Displayed beneath the image, were the words ‘internal call – clinic’.
Flynn attracted Yelena’s attention, pointing to the pictogram on his monitor.
“I’ll take it. Put it through.” Yelena listened to the information. Mary tried to hover close to the earpiece but was unable to hear the conversation. The redhead grunted her approval then gave her commands in a hushed reply. “Good. Get her to sign then sedate her. We cannot have a journalist loose in the compound.” She signalled for Flynn to end the call.
A ridiculous electronic jingle emanated from the minister’s jacket. He retrieved his mobile phone and hurried from the room to take the call. Mary glided through the wall after him. “No Prime Minister, everything is in hand. The threat has been neutralised and the assets acquired. No, no, I am certain that they will not present a problem. I’ve sequestered the bunker and R and D have been working on a prototype. I will liaise with you over the first of the covert missions, of course. Yes… I will keep you informed.” There was an audible click. He moved the handset away from his ear and looked at the screen. She had hung up on him. The minister filled his lungs and exhaled slowly.
So, this was to be her new life, locked in an underground shelter at the heart of a government installation, surrounded by machine guns and razor wire. Escorted from her prison to Tactical with the prime directive of murdering people who did not fulfil the requirements of the current MoD official. Had Yelena planned this all along? Was her husband always steering her towards this eventuality?
Mary tailed the politician back into Tactical, where Parth was writing frantic lists of requirements for his next phase of studies and Flynn was adjusting the fitments on the prototype mental castration device. Dan sat in the front row of seats in the viewing area. Upon seeing the minister return, he stood up and removed a bundle of folded papers from his coat pocket. “Mary, if you can hear me, you need to take over the minister now, then follow my lead…”
The Secretary of State for Defence surveyed the room. Mary aligned herself with his pale and soulless eyes, merging and harmonising her brainwaves to his. She could sense the totality of his obdurate ambition, stoked by the desire to disprove his ineptitude. A blockade he had erected to shield his heart from any empathy he might feel towards Mary and her kin. The phone call with the Prime Minister had raised his heartrate and blood pressure. Sweat bled through his shirt in ugly stains and his skin flushed. Despite her abhorrence, Mary took the reins of his nervous system and tested his voice out with a throat clearing cough.
“Mister Secretary.” Dan said, unfolding the papers and smoothing them out on Flynn’s desk. “I have been discussing our situation with the legal team upstairs and I think you will agree that together we have found a solution to your problem.”
Yelena frowned and moved closer. Flynn put the device down and picked up the documents, scanning their contents with interest. Mary made the minister cough once more. She had only spoken through another person once before. What if she got the intonation wrong? She played safe with a single word reply to test out the waters.
“Oh?” No adverse reaction – so far so good.
“The legal team have drawn up a set of promises for both sides to adhere to – a mandate of sorts.” Dan had the floor and seemed determined to keep it. “Mary and I will cooperate with specific requests from the British Government and will assist in problematic missions that technology cannot resolve, providing they do not compromise or endanger ourselves or any of our family members.” Dan squinted at the minister. Was Mary in control?
Flynn interrupted his assessment. “It says here that in return for your cooperation, you expect transportation to your homes unencumbered by mental inhibition devices or chemicals of any kind.” They all looked at the minister. Mary panicked. She needed him to comply with the statements in as few words as possible, without raising suspicion. A tall order for such a verbose man. She stammered, his words came out as mere noises.
“Bub..ta..well, that seems perfectly reasonable to me.” Then remembering the minister’s former harsh stance on the issue, she added; “but Yelena is to maintain direct contact – be your handlers as it were, and we must have an assurance that your abilities will not be used to tamper with those in authority or there will be severe consequences.” The speech felt disjointed. The pitch sounded wrong. Mary compensated. “We are thankful for the assistance you have given us. Yelena, I suggest that you arrange transportation home for these good people and for that very attractive reporter…what was her name? Connie, wasn’t it?”
Flynn nodded, but his lowered brows conveyed his misgivings.
“Don’t over play your hand, Mary.” Dan sent his reproach telepathically to her wavelength. “If that is all in order, would you sign at the bottom, sir?” Dan flipped to the last page. Mary directed the minister’s hand to pick up Flynn’s pen and sign the directive. She had no idea what his signature would look like, but a squiggle with a flourish at the end seemed to suffice.
“What about my new research projects… the f
unding you promised me?” Parth held his list of requirements high and squared up to the minister. His vitriol came as no surprise to Mary. His priorities written large and in numerical order on the paper in his hand. Her freedom did not warrant a mention.
“You have a fully functional, government funded laboratory in your department at work. There is no need for you to duplicate that here. Be grateful for what you have, Doctor Arora.” Mary shocked herself at the vehemence of her rebuke. It sounded all the more forceful in the minister’s authoritative voice. Parth backed down, but his livid expression persisted.
Flynn’s desk vibrated with a muffled buzz as one of three cellular phones pinged a notification. Only Mary was close enough to see the message flash briefly on its screen. It read: Thanks for the heads up. A
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The kettle had just boiled when Dan returned to the lab bearing copies of the documents. Mary sloshed the hot water over some coffee granules, added a splash of milk and handed the mug to her brother. He waved the papers under her nose. They were entitled: ‘The Aurora Mandate’. Aware that the hidden cameras captured everything they said or did, Mary held her tongue, but the pantomime that had played out in Tactical grew heavy in her mind. They sat opposite one another, determined to keep their conversation locked inside their heads.
“As soon as the minister figures out what we have done, they will lock us up for good. Did you see the look on Flynn’s face?” She balanced her cup on the arm of the chair and rubbed her forehead.
“I took care of it. Stop worrying, we are almost home free. Finish your drink and get ready to leave. Flynn is having my car brought round to the entrance.” Dan stretched out his arms and twisted his neck till his spine clicked back in place.