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Authors: Robert Storey

BOOK: 2041 Sanctuary (Genesis)
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The questions remained. Was Goodwin’s mind still his own? What did the Pharos want? Why had the light returned? No one knew, but one thing was for certain, Sanctuary, the once eternal domain of darkness, the most majestic of ancient structures on Earth, would never be the same again.

 

Chapter Seventy

 

As the storm retreated into the distance two lone men, the deposed Director of USSB Steadfast, Richard Goodwin, and the indomitable figure of the Darklight leader, Commander Hilt, made their way back to camp. But as they reached a rise, they paused and looked back the way they’d come.

‘Susan,’ Goodwin said, ‘Susan, come on, this way!’

Further down the beach, the small woman remained deep in concentration as she placed down a final stone before rising and running to catch up.

Left on the ground behind her, positioned in near perfect formation, was the outline of a symbol made out of pebbles, a symbol of forgotten origins and one – had Goodwin seen it – that would have sent a shiver of warning coursing down his spine. Comprising a five pointed star and a surrounding circle, it was a symbol loaded with both human and Anakim meaning … the symbol of an inverted pentagram.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seventy One

 

‘Sir, the second expedition should be two days’ hike away from our location. Shall we rest up and rendezvous with them here?’

The Terra Force commando, Major Delph Armstrong, turned to his lieutenant before looking up at the twinkling stars on the ceiling of the cave system they now traversed. ‘No, we wait for daybreak and then head back to base.’

‘Daybreak?’

Armstrong gestured towards the roof of the cave. ‘We’ve had a sunrise and sunset on the last two days; do you think it’s going to change now?’

The lieutenant peered up at the strange, but welcome, phenomena. ‘It’s not really the sun though, is it, Major? More like a brightening light.’

‘I don’t care what it’s
like
, all I know is it’s better than the pitch-black.’ Armstrong stowed his weapon on his back-plate and looked behind. A few thousand Special Forces soldiers wound their way through a long system of tunnels as they retraced their steps to USSB Sanctuary. Ever since their encounter with the Darklight mercenaries and the three lights – the things the assassins had referred to as Pharos – the mission had imploded. They hadn’t been expecting a war, no one had. They were there for one thing and one thing only: the capture of Sarah Morgan and the retrieval of the stolen artefacts. And even though they were trained to expect the unexpected, the three phantom lights had struck fear into the hearts of all but the stupid or psychopathic.

Armstrong signalled a halt and the column of soldiers slowed their forced march to a stop. ‘Send out the scouts, I want the way ahead secured. I don’t want any more surprises.’

‘The Pharos?’ The lieutenant grasped his rifle tighter. ‘Sir, what are they? Some are saying they’re some kind of guardians of Sanctuary.’

Armstrong stared into a dark tunnel where the ceiling had failed to activate. Its sinister blackness seemed worse now that the rest of the area sparkled with simulated stars. ‘I don’t know what they are,’ he said, ‘I just never want to see one again.’ A memory of screaming, dying men flashed into his mind before a whisper of movement made him reach for his weapon.

‘I’m afraid, Major,’ said a chilling voice that made Armstrong freeze in place, ‘on that score, you’re going to be disappointed.’

 


 

The tall figure of Ophion Nexus emerged from the darkness. The camouflage on his armour shimmered back to gleaming chrome and the Terra Force commandos relaxed their guard a fraction.

‘I thought you were all dead,’ Armstrong said, gesturing for his lieutenant to lower his rifle.

Ophion raised his visor. ‘The weak always doubt the strong.’

‘And the arrogant are the first to die,’ Armstrong said, riled.

Ophion glanced down at his left side where his armour had been breached. ‘I came close to glory,’ he said, ‘but death still eludes my skill.’

‘Shouldn’t that be the other way round?’ said Armstrong’s lieutenant.

Ophion turned his measured gaze upon the man who’d spoken before returning it to Armstrong. ‘Get your men back up, Major, our objectives are unmet.’

‘What are you talking about? The mission’s a bust, or haven’t you realised? The rest of your team is gone, a third of our force is dead, captured or injured, and Sarah Morgan is under a thousand feet of water. If you think we’re going anywhere but back to base you need your head read.’

Ophion moved closer. ‘Your assessment is flawed. You will do as I say, or I will replace you with someone that will.’

Armstrong tensed at the threat before ten more assassins materialised from the gloom. He looked at the formidable array of weaponry on show and realised that discretion was the better part of valour. ‘I thought you said they were two days’ hike away,’ Armstrong said to his lieutenant who looked suitably sheepish.

‘The rest of your force is,’ Ophion said, ‘but S.I.L.V.E.R. are not Terra Force.’ He turned his back on them to address his team. ‘The target is close, last sighting three miles south, south west.’

‘Do we proceed as planned?’ said one of the assassins.

‘Nothing has changed,’ Ophion said, ‘except our numbers will need replenishing when we return to the surface. The coordinates have been sent to your systems. Stay in contact, the beast will seek to isolate you.’

Without another word, the assassins melted back into the darkness as they moved to enact their leader’s command.

‘They told me you were trying to capture it,’ Armstrong said, ‘I didn’t believe them.’

Ophion turned back to fix the major with his ice cool gaze. ‘The Pharos are formidable opponents, but they are not without weakness. We will locate, subdue and return it to USSB Sanctuary, as ordered.’

Armstrong shook his head. ‘This is madness; I want no part of it. Do you hear me? No part!’

‘Insanity is a perspective of thought by which you are chained.’ Ophion reached for his sword and swung it through the air with a cutting swipe. ‘Your resignation is accepted.’

Armstrong’s eyes grew wide in shock and a red line of blood appeared around his neck. With a strangled sigh, the major’s head slid from his body as he collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap.

The Terra Force lieutenant looked down at his decapitated superior in horror.

Ophion resealed his mirrored visor. ‘You’ve just been promoted, soldier.’ He pressed a button on his helmet and his armoured panels shimmered into the background. ‘Ready your men, the hunt has only just begun.’

 

Chapter Seventy Two

 

Selene Dubois, Deputy Governor of USSB Sanctuary’s Central Bank and high ranking member of the clandestine Committee, stood to one side as Dr. Laurent inspected Malcolm Joiner’s body.

‘Well?’ she said.

The doctor removed his fingers from the intelligence director’s throat and gave a nod.

She pursed her lips. ‘How long until he wakes?’

‘Twenty minutes, thirty at the most.’

‘Good. And the device worked? His mind has been – how did Dagmar put it – rewired?’

Dr. Laurent handed her a display screen full of data. ‘Only time will tell the extent of the transformation, but yes, it appears he will be more susceptible to your control.’

‘And no one else’s?’

Laurent nodded. ‘Yes, only to you and the other Committee members present at the time of his ordeal. The greater the pain, the stronger the bond between subject and controller and he experienced great pain. According to those readouts,’ – he gestured at the device he’d given her – ‘his personality will be more submissive and obedient. Parts of him will resist, but more often than not he will seek the path of least resistance.

‘It is quite astounding,’ the doctor continued. ‘Director Sørensen’s mind control techniques are cutting edge. It used to take months of intensive work to manipulate a person’s mind; he’s compressed that into minutes using pain as a gateway to permanently rewrite a person’s psyche. It’s amazing, don’t you think?’

Selene murmured her agreement before handing back the screen. ‘See to his arm.’

Dr. Laurent bobbed his head and moved to carry out the command.

‘And yet the rest of his personality remains,’ a man said. ‘He will not forget this.’

Selene turned round to see two members of the Committee standing close by.

The man who had spoken waited for Selene to respond while his associate, a woman with glasses, gazed down at Joiner with calculating eyes.

‘We had to find out what he knew,’ Selene said, ‘it was agreed.’

‘And what he knows,’ said the man, ‘is too much. We have underestimated his resolve.’

The woman adjusted her glasses. ‘And yet he still held back, even when faced with death.’

‘Which is as it should be,’ Selene said. ‘If he is to become one of us such strength of mind is necessary.’

‘His blood work is … unexpected,’ the man said.

Selene glanced at the unconscious intelligence director. ‘I had my suspicions.’

‘And you said nothing?’

‘It was irrelevant.’

‘His characteristics are very subtle,’ the woman said, ‘except for the obvious.’

The man nodded. ‘And yet the results speak for themselves.’

The woman turned to him. ‘Do you think he knows?’

‘How could he?’

‘Even with his …
alterations
,’ Selene said, ‘if we are to keep him in check, we have to keep him close.’

‘Then we are in agreement?’ the man said.

The woman considered him for a moment. ‘Yes.’

‘We are,’ Selene said, and held out her hand, palm up.

The man placed his hand on hers and said, ‘From the past.’

‘In the present,’ the woman said, and repeated his action.

Selene bowed her head to each of them. ‘To the future.’

The three members of the Committee turned to look at Malcolm Joiner’s unmoving form. ‘Throughout time,’ they said in unison.

 

Chapter Seventy Three

 

A buzz of sound penetrated his unconscious stupor until it roused his mind into thought.
What is that?
he wondered.
What is that infernal sound?

Malcolm Joiner opened his eyes to see Dr. Laurent wrapping a nano-cast around his broken arm using a piece of medical apparatus. Each time the buzzing device circumnavigated his forearm another layer of fibrous wrap was applied and it was this that had awoken him.

Dr. Laurent glanced up at him. ‘Ah, good, you’re awake, I was beginning to worry.’

Joiner frowned, his mind a hurricane of emotion.
I’m alive
, was his first thought.
Why?
was his second. He flexed his hand.

‘You shouldn’t experience any long-term effects from the break,’ Dr. Laurent said, as he worked. ‘You’ve been out for nearly forty minutes. I’ve been able to set the bone and stitch the wound. You’re lucky; I’ve become quite proficient at such procedures.’

‘Lucky?’ Joiner felt like gouging the man’s eyes out with a fork.

Dr. Laurent gave a nervous laugh before he glanced up to see Joiner’s expression and his mirth switched to fear.

‘Don’t blame the poor doctor,’ said a familiar voice.

Joiner swivelled his head to see Selene Dubois watching him with hooded eyes.

She walked round to stand in front of him, her heel strikes echoing throughout the grand Anakim hall. ‘You’re probably wondering why you’re still in the land of the living.’

‘It had crossed my mind.’

Selene waited as Dr. Laurent placed Joiner’s arm in a sling and then, after a quick bow in her direction, he took his leave.

‘We have decided,’ Selene said, ‘that your position and past duty requires an acknowledgement.’

Joiner flexed his arm inside its sling. ‘Acknowledgement?’

‘Yes, you have earned the right to ascend to the next caste within the Committee.’

‘The
next
caste? I wasn’t aware I was in the first.’

‘You weren’t,’ Selene said, ‘you were a fourth tier member. However, recent events have ensured your ascension to the fifth caste has been approved by the Committee.’

Joiner wondered if the injection had fried his brain as he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. ‘But before that happened, you wanted to conduct your evaluation to find out what I knew. You never had any intention of failing me.’

‘Oh, we would have failed you, Director, had your answers not been forthcoming, and you would have suffered as a result before being … disposed of. The Committee does not suffer duplicity within its ranks.’

Joiner’s brow furrowed. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘Believe what you will, our actions against those beyond our walls are not indicative of the bonds within. This, in time, you will learn.’

‘How many of these
castes
are there?’

‘There are a variety of avenues you may take, but they all converge on the thirteenth step.’

‘Thirteen? And I suppose you’re on that
step
.’

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