The Aurora Conspiracies- Volume One

by Sam Nash

  The Minister for Defence rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yes, we have all read your reports, Ms Plender. Give us some credit for identifying your bias towards this woman. Now what’s all this I hear about Mary meddling in the pharmaceutical industry?”

  Parth looked towards Yelena who threw her hands up in submission. The shadows in the contours beneath her eyes conveyed the duration of last night’s talks on the matter. Mary shuffled backwards, trying to hide amongst the busy ornate patterns of the red and gold walls.

  Parth began his speech. “You see it’s like this. The idea stemmed from the recent progress that a French Nobel Prize winner has made with regards to using the polarity of water as a means of memory storage. Like good old fashioned magnetic tape used in audio players. If you transpose the electromagnetic signature of a drug sample onto purified water, the properties of the drug are retained without the cost or toxic effects of manufacturing the chemicals in the first place. Not only can we create free medicine, but there will be no side effects or waste compounds released into our sewers.”

  The cabinet minister for the Environment and Rural Affairs sat up straight in her chair. Now it was clear to her why the Prime Minister invited her to attend this private meeting. “Just one moment.” The Environment Minister piped up. “You are saying that water remembers other chemicals?”

  “Yes, madam. Anything it has either been in contact with or has obtained the electromagnetic signature for.” Parth spoke with a slow and condescending tone that was not lost on any of the panel.

  The Environment Minister narrowed her eyes. “But it would be wiped clean again by our water treatment plants, would it not?”

  Parth swallowed. His tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth, making a smacking noise as he ripped it free. “On the contrary, madam. It remembers all the properties of every chemical it has been in contact with. Our sewage treatment plants simply remove the larger, physical particles and then adds further chemicals to alter the acidity and taste. All the agricultural and industrial runoff plus the prescription drugs that pass through humans are retained in the drinking water supply. Only the natural processes of the water cycle can wipe the memory clean.” There was a moment of contemplation; the puckered faces of the three ministers in a stare off with the visitors.

  The Defence Minister leaned forward on his elbows, staring directly at Mary. “I’d say it was all utter bollocks if I hadn’t seen the video for myself.”

  Parth’s head snapped towards Yelena. “There is a video?” They all witnessed the exchange.

  The Defence Minister sneered at their discomfort. “Did you think that you could go on spending MoD money without us keeping tabs on what you are doing? Both you and Mary have been under tight surveillance for some time. And, thanks to Yelena, Simon, your most favoured student, has joined us.”

  Mary visibly slumped. Her plan to deny all, to discredit Parth’s assertions, to ruin his presentation was all for nought. They had undeniable evidence all along.

  “Nevertheless.” The PM straightened her back, locking her penetrating stare on Mary’s shrinking frame. “I would like to see this ability first hand. Is that possible?”

  “Of course, yes. Mary can give you a basic demonstration, can’t you, love?” Parth turned to Mary, who was attempting to merge into the wallpaper behind him. She threw him a withering look and stepped forward. Parth leaned across the table to the drinks set before the politicians. “May I?” He indicated with both hands towards two glasses, one of spring water and another containing orange juice. The Prime Minister nodded. Parth picked up the glasses and handed them to Mary. Her expression crumpled to one of pleading, in the hope that he would release her from further incrimination. “Go ahead, Mary. It’s imperative that we show them the possibilities.”

  The liquids in both glasses were rippling as her hands quivered. A part of her wanted to cause trouble for Parth, but there was no longer any point in making a sham of the demonstration. It was too late to hide her abilities. These people were fully aware of her gifts and had the power to make life very uncomfortable if she failed them. There was no other choice but to cooperate.

  Mary closed her mind and her eyes to all those around her and concentrated on the orange juice, until a familiar tingle pulsed in her left palm. Just as she had done in Parth’s laboratory, she allowed the tingle to travel through her body, before projecting the same frequency to the spring water in her right hand. When both solutions were vibrating in harmony, she handed the glasses back to Parth.

  “But… the water still looks practically clear. Bloody ridiculous.” The Defence Minister ranted, gesticulating wildly. Parth extended his hand, offering the faintly coloured liquid to the Prime Minister. He lowered his head a fraction and smiled. She took the glass, sniffing first then taking a tiny sip. The moment the water touched her tongue, she swallowed quickly then gasped. With her mouth hanging open, she looked at Mary with a profound understanding. The Environment Minister grabbed the glass from the Prime Minister, taking a swig and allowing her taste buds to identify the citrus flavour.

  “Oh my God, it’s true. That is amazing.” She drank again, as if the first mouthful was a clever lie. “Water can be imprinted. So what you are really saying is that our tap water…”

  “Is a toxic soup, madam, yes.”

  Chapter Four

  Parth was really in his stride now, confident and unabashed. He did not notice the abrupt change in the ministers’ expressions or the atmosphere chill to several degrees below convivial. He had proven himself right and felt it incumbent to point out the ramifications in detail. He began by informing the politicians of their duty as elected officials to ensure that the potable water supply was separated from the cyclical system of sewage to tap to sewage.

  Without waiting for response or further dialogue, Parth launched into his success in replicating certain sedatives, adrenalin and recreational drugs, with Mary’s assistance of course. Yelena collapsed onto a chair in the corner of the room, exasperated. Mary shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, growing more fretful with each agonising minute.

  As Parth drew breath in the middle of his monologue regarding a government manifesto to pledge their determination in revolutionising the pharmaceutical industry, the Prime Minister stood up. “That’s quite enough, Dr Arora. You may go now.” There was a spell of discomfort. A skin prickling, stomach stirring second of seething distress. Yelena saw it in Mary’s face as the deafening silence engulfed them. Parth stood slack jawed, ready to counter the statement and continue his incursion. The Prime Minister struck first. “Stay within the compound, Dr Arora, Mrs Arora. We may need to consult with you again. Yelena, please escort them to their room.”

  Yelena closed the door behind them and led the way back towards the entrance hall. “You know, for an intelligent man, you are the most stupid person I know.” She hissed the words through clenched teeth and stomped up the illustrious main staircase to the first floor. They scurried along after her confident strides, up another less grand staircase and into the attic rooms beyond. “Mary, I am sorry to add to your misery, but this is the only room left on the whole estate. You will have to share it with Parth and you will need to change into formal dress for this evening’s dinner.”

  Mary’s shoulders drooped. “Fine.” She huffed. “But I haven’t brought anything formal to wear. I didn’t know that I would need it.” They entered a room in the former servant’s quarters and were relieved to find twin beds and a tiny en suite bathroom that had once been a closet.

  Yelena handed Mary the door key and said, “You can borrow something of mine. I have a cocktail dress that might fit, although I suspect it will look more like a full-length gown on you.” She left them to unpack and acclimatise to their cramped accommodation.

  As soon as she had gone, Parth rushed to listen at the door, and then he opened it a fraction to check the corridor. “You need to do your thing… use your gifts. I must know what they are saying in that room. Be quick or we will
miss the important bits.”

  Mary stared at him incredulously. Despite his clumsy request, she knew precisely what he was asking of her. To initiate an out of body experience to snoop on the ministers’ private conference. “Are you insane? That is the exact reason why they threatened to lock me up last time. Are you deliberately putting me in harm’s way? Is this an attempt at punishing me?”

  “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. I have to know what they are planning. It’s not as though they are discussing some international diplomatic mission or anything, it’s about us. We have a right to know.” He moved closer to her, raising his hands and placing them lightly on her shoulders. She looked into his ochre eyes. He seemed less cocky now, more anxious. Perhaps it wasn’t such a daft idea after all. Her liberty was in their hands and no one would ever discover her presence in the Velvet Room.

  “Okay, I’ll do it. Just keep an eye out for people lurking.” Mary hurried to the single bed closest to the small window and furthest from the door. Parth waited until she was comfortable, then returned to peering through the gap in the doorway. Every moment wasted would mean discovering less about their fate. She felt the pressure acutely. She fidgeted, then scratched at imaginary itches, wriggled and sighed. Why was it so difficult to still her mind and slow her heartrate? She thought back to the stressful conditions she had overcome before and recalled the use of hushed singing to calm her.

  Feeling self-conscious with Parth listening in, she hummed softly, hearing the words to the Beatles song, Let it Be, inside her head. The sounds reverberated in her voice box, travelling through tissue and bone along her spine and rippling across her brain. Her mind tuned to the alpha rhythm and she was away.

  Mary’s higher self-detached from her physical form and amassed in a clump of charged particles above her body. It had been a while since she had felt the exhilarating freedom of unfettered travel. She indulged in a moment of unparalleled liberation before compelling her nebulous form to back track her former steps, down to the ground floor and into the east wing, pausing outside the Velvet Room.

  Yelena was sitting patiently in a hard chair next to an armed officer. Her face rested in her hand, supported by an elbow that slipped on the lacquered surface of an occasional table. It jolted her back to full consciousness. How many hours had her friend spent in defence of Mary and her astonishing talents? How many meetings and sanitised reports had Yelena endured on her behalf? Pity washed through her thoughts. Mary vowed that she would find a way to make it up to her, somehow. The urgent calling of her mission prompted her to neglect her companion once more and blend with the grain of the wooden door, forcing her energetic mass through the panel and into the gaudy room.

  They were still in their same positions as before. The ministers sat, over talking one another in a crescendo of incoherent debate. Mary wafted high above, taking in the full cacophony of indignant noise, attempting to separate the vocal inflections. “Quiet! I cannot hear myself think.” It was the Prime Minister, growling at the squabbling cabinet ministers either side of her. She shoved her chair backwards and stood up. In the beautiful silence and with her palm glued to her forehead, she began pacing the room. “As far as I can make out, we have three very distinct issues. Let us take one at a time. Firstly, the notion that free medicine can be created from pure water and Dr Arora’s suggestion that major pharmaceutical companies be nationalised.”

  Both Defence and Environment ministers started up their cyclical disapproval of the proposal, growing in decibels with each statement. The PM held her hand aloft, silencing their bickering once more. “Yes, I am fully aware of the colossal implications… stock market crashes, widespread unemployment, pension fund annihilation, tax contraction… the list is endless and clearly not one we would advocate. This whole idea of water retaining a memory of chemical properties must be disavowed immediately.” She turned to the Minister for Defence. “What can you do about this French Scientist on the same trail as Arora?”

  The Secretary for Defence reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. “I’ll look into it, ma’am.”

  The PM then turned to the Minister for the Environment. “If we nip the problem in the bud, we won’t have to address the issue of toxic drinking water. Dealing with that messy little dilemma alone could bankrupt us.”

  The Environment Minister nodded her agreement, then added, “All the same, ma’am, I think it would be prudent to look into filtration systems for government buildings.” Her eyes tracked the Prime Minister’s movements across the pale rug.

  “Indeed. Get onto the Whips to authorise MP expenses in respect of their own homes too.” The PM gestured at her minister with an open hand, indicating that she should make immediate arrangements. Taking the hint, the Environment Minister retrieved her handbag and was soon lost in a fury of telephone calls, emails and instructions.

  Mary absorbed the entire commotion from her serene vantage point, unsurprised by their reaction to Parth’s demonstration. A part of her felt relieved that government officials would rather suppress her gifts than make use of them for the good of humanity. She was off the hook. As she prepared to return to her prone body and her obdurate, soon to be ex-husband, the PM hurried to the door and called Yelena inside. Yelena shook herself alert and marched into the room. The two cabinet ministers occupied opposite corners, both straining to hear the advice proffered from their respective telephone correspondents.

  The Prime Minister squared up to Yelena. She glanced over her shoulder at the Defence Minister, who had one index finger shoved into his ear while he spoke on his mobile. Content that he could not hear their discussion, she asked, “Has Arora located any other unusual people like Mary yet?”

  Yelena leaned her head nearer to the PM. “Not yet, ma’am, but he is close. I had one of my best techs correlate patterns of inexplicable events and phenomenon from Tempora and Echelon metadata. Things like bizarre electrical surges in buildings leading to fires or electrical failure in aircraft after thorough maintenance. In all recorded clusters of odd incidents, the same names crop up time after time.” Yelena paused, noticing that the Environment Minister had completed her telephone call and was paying close attention to their conversation.

  “And? How does that relate to Arora’s findings?” The PM was moving her hand in a winding motion to hurry Yelena along. Mary drifted closer to hear her response. Yelena frowned. She looked as though the disclosure of her intel caused her pain. There were fine lines around her eyes and mouth that Mary had not noticed before and her eyelids were reddened as if she had been rubbing at them.

  “The names my tech has shortlisted are the same ones that Dr Arora has identified in his study.” Yelena observed the dispassionate reaction of the senior official. The PM displayed not a hint of curiosity or amazement at Yelena’s discovery. The gifted individuals were a source of aggravation at best and a national threat at worst. Another problem to be handled.

  “Hmm…I see. And do we know what is causing this sudden spike in peculiar people? Can it be stopped?” The Prime Minister spoke as though it was a simple case of rounding these people up and taking them to the vet to be spayed. “How come they can do these extraordinary things and I cannot?”

  Yelena looked fraught once more. It was as if talking to these politicians was a betrayal. She was painting a target on Mary’s back. Yelena took time to centre herself, flicking her ginger locks away from her face with an automatic head jerk. “Early indications suggest that Mary’s exposure to an intense particle discharge, during a solar storm, may have altered DNA transcription, leading to increased growth and function of her pineal gland in the centre of her brain.” Yelena deliberately omitted similar facts regarding Mary’s brother, Dan. Offering up one sibling for sacrificial scrutiny was bad enough.

  “So, how do we put a stop to these people?” The Prime Minister was winding her hand again. Both Environment and Defence Ministers joined the conversation.

  “In the long term, water fluoridation is
known to calcify the pineal gland, reducing its function.” Yelena offered, helpfully.

  “Perhaps, although that will require an expensive advertising campaign, to persuade the do-gooders that it is of benefit to the masses. Like they did in the U.S. All that oral hygiene nonsense. That’s a thought, did your techie chap find any clusters of odd events in America?” It was the first time the PM looked animated since her arrival.

  “No, ma’am, but they have had national fluoridation for many decades in the majority of their states.” Yelena looked pensive. An indication that the discussion was slipping into dangerous territory. Mary detected it too. These three people had the power to medicate an entire country, without permission. Without regard for how it may interact with the medication that the population were already consuming. Without care for differences in body mass and dosages. Mary manoeuvred her position so that she could see the reactions of all those present.

  “The United States also have the highest rates of Hypothyroidism, leading to obesity and heart disease. Fluoride has a direct effect on the thyroid gland too.” The Environment Minister piped up, surprising everyone. “Please think carefully about the side effects before you make this decision, ma’am.” The Prime Minister glowered at her, but she soldiered on bravely. “I have just had word from my juniors about the latest Lithium trials in Scotland. There are five confirmed law suits underway with the potential for a further twenty-four.”

  That’s typical. Just when you think a politician has grown a conscience. Not, ‘please ma’am, don’t poison innocent people with noxious chemicals to dull people’s senses so they don’t rise up and revolt.’ No, it’s measured in the number of viable lawsuits. Mary thought to herself with disgust.