Apocalypse Cult (Gray Spear Society) (8 page)

"No more questions!" Marina said. "Ethel will tell you the rest."

Wacker Drive formed the northern and western boundary of downtown Chicago. A road built on pillars, it offered a dramatic view of the Chicago River on one side, and a line of soaring skyscrapers on the other. Nearly every tourist bus made sure to include a trip down Wacker at some point.

Lower Wacker was not so fortunate. It ran directly beneath Wacker for most of its length, and the scenery consisted of concrete supports, steel beams, and historic grime. The river was visible on one side, but not enough to relieve the impression of driving through an endless, gloomy tunnel with too many dark shadows. Local traffic used Lower Wacker as a quick shortcut through a crowded city. It provided access to the basements of many buildings, and there were always delivery trucks parked in odd locations.

Aaron drove down the ramp at Wabash and entered Lower Wacker. The close walls and narrow spaces made him grip the steering wheel tightly. Marina directed him to take an awkward left turn onto a small parking area protected by a chain-link fence. Large signs warned that unauthorized vehicles would be towed immediately. A hand-written note added that they would be dropped into the lake.

Marina got out of the car and opened a sliding garage door. Aaron drove into a concrete room, which contained nothing but oil stains, cobwebs, and dust. She followed him in, closed the door, and checked that it was latched.

"Now what?" he called out. The small room didn't have another door.

The floor silently descended into an underground parking area. As his view opened up, he saw twenty vehicles including cars, vans, light trucks, and a motorcycle.
A secret garage,
he thought.

He moved his car to an available parking spot. A giant hydraulic cylinder raised the elevator platform until it was flush with the ceiling. He got out of his car and looked around.

Some of the trucks had the names of local delivery companies painted on the sides, and they were clearly meant for undercover work. In the corner, there were tool boxes and paint cans around a service lift. The air was fresh and cool.

"Nice." He nodded. "Private parking, and I mean
private
." He was already feeling a little better about his decision to join, given what he had seen so far. "But what prevents just anybody from coming down?"

"Our head of security was watching with a hidden camera. He lowered the elevator. This place is an underground fortress, and it's impossible to enter without inside help. We take our security very seriously. Leave your car keys in the ignition in case somebody needs to move your car." There was only one door in the garage, and Marina heaved it open with both hands. "Watertight. We're below the river, so flooding is always a concern."

They walked down a short corridor, through another door, and entered a small, white room with a small, white couch. Directly ahead was a thick window, obviously bulletproof, and a man was sitting behind it. He was medium height with pale skin and blue eyes. Either he was naturally bald, or he had shaved his head until it shone in the fluorescent lights.

"Aaron, meet Jack," Marina said. "Head of security and a very talented gunsmith. If you need a weapon, any weapon at all, he's your man. He's also our cashier."

"Hello, Aaron." Jack's voice came through speakers in the ceiling. "I'm very glad to see you. I've heard all about you. I was hoping you'd join. Go on back. Everybody is waiting in the conference room to greet you."

Jack pressed a button, and a security door buzzed on the right side of the room. Aaron pulled it open.

He stepped into a hallway with a white tiled floor. Exposed pipes and conduits ran overhead. Some cracks in the bare concrete ceiling had been patched with tar. The walls were plain and gray.

They came to another door, a wooden one this time, and Marina ushered him in. The conference room had a single, large oak table and antique chairs upholstered with purple velvet. A bookshelf covered one wall from floor to ceiling, and it was packed with thick books bound in leather. Aaron couldn't read the titles, but they looked old and important.

Six people sat in the chairs. He recognized Ethel and Victor, but the other four were unfamiliar.

"Aaron!" Ethel said in a warm and enthusiastic tone. "I'm really excited you decided to join us. Let me introduce you to the rest of the team. First is Yvonne. She keeps this place clean, and she prepares excellent meals. She's also our emergency nurse. Edward is our technology specialist: computers, communications, that sort of thing. Make sure to get a new phone from him before you leave. Kamal is our lab technician and general expert on scientific matters. He does our forensics. Finally, Nancy handles all of the plumbing, electrical, and carpentry work here. She's never met a tool she doesn't like. You already met Jack in the security booth. Now, empty your pockets onto the table. Let's see everything you have."

Aaron resisted the urge to disobey the strange order. He took out his wallet, cash, and cell phone. After a brief hesitation, he also gave up a knife that was strapped to his ankle.

Edward grabbed the wallet and cell phone.

"Hey!" Aaron said.

"Calm down," Ethel ordered. "Marina, let's hear your report. What did the girl tell you?"

Marina described the conversation with Brittany Waters. Her professional tone and memory for detail impressed Aaron.

Ethel nodded. "Thank you. I'd like to speak with Aaron alone now. Everybody else is dismissed."

The team filed out of the room. Aaron found a chair across the table from her, and while he sat, he took his cash and knife back.

"You have questions?" Ethel said when they were alone.

"Only about a million of them," he said.

She laughed. "We don't have that much time, but I'll try to answer a few. Let's start at the very beginning. God created the universe. He owns the place. Do you accept that?"

"Sure," he said.
Where is she going with this?

"Creation wasn't a superfluous action. God has a master plan, and he made the universe for specific reasons. Our existence serves a purpose."

"Which is what?" he said.

"I have absolutely no idea."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I do know there are a lot of rules," she said. "The laws of physics, for example, but it goes beyond that. There are rules governing life and death. Rules about souls. The plan requires that everybody follow the rules. In fact, the rules are so strictly enforced that most people believe it's impossible
not
to follow them. There is only one game in town, and the only way to leave the table is to die. We call this the natural world. More than 99.9999 percent of the population lives there."

"But not everybody?"

She shook her head. "God has enemies that exist outside the universe. The scientific term is 'external entities.' They attack at the periphery and try to disrupt the plan. The purpose of the Gray Spear Society is to protect Earth from those intrusions. We're God's secret police. It's a deadly war that has been fought since mankind first emerged. I won't sugarcoat it. Members of the Society tend to have short, brutal lives. You probably won't live long enough to get old."

"Why is secrecy so important?" he said.

"Ordinary people have to believe the world is rational and predictable, when that's just an elaborate illusion. God demands it be this way, or the universe won't serve its purpose. We're not part of that illusion. We're unnatural. We operate in the battleground outside the natural world. The Lord needs us to remain hidden so we don't mess up the plan."

Her argument made a crazy kind of sense, but he still had a hard time believing it.

"How did you get all this information?"

"The Society receives communication as necessary," she said. "My spiritual guidance is an example. God sometimes allows me to know His will."

"Are you actually claiming God talks to you?"

"Not in words." Her impossibly dark eyes stared at him.

"Interesting."
She must be nuts.
He furrowed his brow. "But wait, God is supposed to be omnipotent. How can He have enemies?"

She sighed impatiently. "We've spent enough time on metaphysics. What matters to you are the practical aspects of your job. You're a
legionnaire.
Your task is to identify and eliminate cases of supernatural interference. We fight God's enemies, and that's all. We don't battle ordinary evil. We don't enforce human laws. Our jurisdiction is very specific. Do you understand?"

"I think so." He nodded.

"And before we act, we collect evidence. We demand proof. This isn't a witch hunt."

"What kind of proof?"

"Let's move to the laboratory where Kamal will explain the science behind our work." She stood up.

They left the conference room through a different door and entered a larger space. Racks of free weights stood in the corner across from a stair climbing machine. There were also pads on the floor for wrestling or martial arts.

They went down a short hallway, turned right, and entered a scientific laboratory. Complex equipment crowded together along the walls, and even more covered a big table in the center. There were a dozen computer screens, many of them turned on. Fans inside the machines produced a constant background hiss.

These guys must have a lot of money if they can afford all this stuff
, Aaron thought.

Kamal was a tall, thin man with dark skin. From his features, Aaron guessed he was from southern India. He wore a button-up pinstripe shirt and crisply pressed, brown slacks.

"Kamal," Ethel said, "please explain to Aaron what you do here."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. It's simple, really. Every intrusion into the space-time fabric is a high-energy event. There is a characteristic burst of spontaneous positron emission, which is detectable at less than 100 meters, but absorbed by the atmosphere over longer distances. The positrons create a specific type of defect in exposed crystalline materials. We have adapted X-ray diffraction techniques to detect these defect patterns conclusively."

Aaron stared at him. "I have no idea what that means."

"It's like this," Ethel said. "If there is a suspicious incident, we go out and gather physical evidence near where it happened. Kamal analyzes the evidence and tells us whether we need to take action. In the case of the Church of One Soul, the results were positive."

"I'm still confused," Aaron said. "What qualifies as a suspicious incident?"

"Remember how Simon claimed he talked to an angel? We believe that was an external entity."

"The angel was real?"

"He talked to something that wasn't made by God. It was an abomination. You can call it an angel if you want, or a demon. It doesn't matter. Our job is to stop that thing and destroy all evidence of its activities. We will accomplish that objective by any means necessary. Do you understand?"

"Maybe," Aaron said.

"Good enough." Ethel nodded. "Let's meet with Victor and Marina, so we can plan for tomorrow."

"That's it? That's my entire orientation?"

"You'll figure out the rest as you go along."

They left the laboratory and walked through a few more hallways. The décor was the same throughout: white tile floor, concrete roof, and gray walls. Aaron got the sense that headquarters was pretty big, maybe equivalent to an entire floor of a medium size building. He was becoming impressed by the scale of the operation.

"Does anybody live here?" he asked.

"I'm the only permanent resident," Ethel said. "Commanders always live in their own headquarters. Everybody else has apartments nearby. We do have two rooms for guests, though."

They entered a large kitchen with granite counters and an oversized, stainless steel refrigerator. Copper pots hung from the ceiling on racks. For a secret underground lair, the place certainly had all the amenities. Victor and Marina had prepared meat and cheese sandwiches for themselves. They were sitting at an island in the center of the kitchen.

"Here are your orders," Ethel said. "Meet here tomorrow at 0400 hours. Pack body armor and weapons for a heavy assault. Go to the cult compound and capture Simon. We'll need to interrogate him, so take him alive."

"We'll have to fight our way in and out, ma'am," Marina said. "His followers will protect him tenaciously."

"That is understood. Bring as much ammo as you can carry."

"Hey!" Aaron said. "Women and children live there. This battle could turn into a massacre! We have to be surgical."

Ethel gave him a cold stare. "Simon is an enemy of God. Extreme force is authorized."

"But..."

Marina touched his shoulder. "This is your first mission," she said, "so you don't understand. Trust us. We have to hit hard, snatch Simon, and run like hell. If somebody gets in your way, shoot him."

Victor nodded.

"No," Aaron said. "I can't...."

"Aaron!" Ethel said. "This is our way, and centuries of experience tell us it's the best way. The faster we complete the mission, the more lives will be saved in the end. But if you still need to be convinced, I'll make it simpler. Follow my orders, or suffer the consequences of insubordination."

Aaron could tell he wouldn't win the argument. Maybe if he came up with a better plan before tomorrow, Ethel would listen.

"That's all," Ethel said. "Aaron, stay with me. You still need a new phone."

She led Aaron through more gray hallways.

"Hang on," he said, "shouldn't I have an initiation ceremony or something? I thought secret societies always had those."

"We'll do it after the mission is over. Hopefully, tomorrow night. If this drags on...." She grimaced.

They entered a room containing shelves packed with computers, electronic gadgets, and spools of wire. Edward held a screwdriver as he leaned over a complex piece of equipment on a table under a bright light. Small, oddly shaped components lay all around.

He was a black man with short wiry hair and wire-rim glasses. His blue jeans had patches on the knees and tiny burn marks on one thigh, perhaps from bits of hot metal. His green T-shirt had the words "technology: not for wimps" printed on the front.