Guardians of Eden

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Authors: Matt Roberts

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GUARDIANS OF EDEN

By

Matt Roberts

 

Kindle Edition

Copyright © Matt Roberts 2016

Published by Matt Roberts 2016

Matt Roberts asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

This novel is a work of fiction. The names, characters, organisations, places and events are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or events is entirely coincidental.

PROLOGUE

On April 12, 2023, the lights began to go out for the last time. Whole cities once ablaze with neon light were drowned in darkness within a matter of hours. Protests immediately sparked across the globe and, as more and more nations quickly succumbed to the crisis, tensions continued to rise further and further towards breaking point.

Just eight months later, by the turn of the year 2024, only a handful of cities around the Earth maintained power. Millions flocked to them in desperation, forcing governments to act to try to prevent the inevitable outbreak of violence. Thousands of aircraft were grounded while countless roads, highways and motorways were cut off. Massive police and military presence quickly became a common sight in every corner of the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, China, Australia, and over a hundred other nations worldwide. Predictably, however, those actions only ended up provoking the violence they were intended to deter.

At first there were only isolated riots and skirmishes, but soon disillusioned sectors of the public joined together to form fully fledged uprisings, bringing rise to a surge of civil war worldwide. Many governments had stockpiled their remaining resources in order to aid in efforts to restore the power, but those plans were quickly abandoned once their control over their people came under threat, destroying any hope of things returning to how they were.

In the space of just twelve months more blood was shed and more lives were lost than during the entirety of both the First and Second World Wars combined. One by one states ceased to exist as the rebels toppled their leaders and brutality reigned. Whatever cause the insurgents had initially set out to work towards had been long forgotten. All they sought now was power and control.

People who refused to conform to the new society either retreated into hiding or were met by horrific torture and death. In just two years the world had descended from a place of relative peace and prosperity to a backward wasteland of fear and violence. It was a situation that continued to worsen for years on end with no hope of being stopped and by 2027 just one nation remained intact.

Despite everything that had happened around them, the government of the United States of America had somehow managed to retain power, and with it a semblance of peace. Their military force had needed to be tripled in size, and several of the fifty states had been practically written off, but still democracy survived. Even then, however, no one was under any illusion that their resolve would last forever.

On January 3, 2028, things finally began to change. After half a decade of watching Earth’s society rip itself apart from the shadows, an elusive organisation known only as XION appeared across the planet. Having anticipated the collapse long before it happened, XION had gathered masses of resources and collected some of the world’s brightest minds together to build themselves into a global power, capable of rising from the ashes and building an empire upon the rubble.

With access to an abundance of electricity and the potential to generate more easily and sustainably, the organisation had what everyone on the globe desired above all else. Given, also, their possession of an army of highly trained soldiers as well as technology that surpassed anything that had existed five years before, XION had everything they needed to rule.

Immediately after their emergence they began to make contact with smaller, more easily manageable countries, returning governments to power and restoring peace and order. Within months whole regions had been restored under their authority, bringing human civilisation back from the brink.

During the next few years more organisations like XION began to surface. None came anywhere close to matching XION’s resources or presence so rather than competing for territory they worked together with their predecessor in an effort to restore the Earth to prosperity. Progress was slow and laboured, as every step forward added extra complications. The first real triumph for the new alliance didn’t come until the summer of 2032, with the liberation of Western Europe. In one swift, nine week movement, forty-two individual rebel militias were brought down and a new super state established, encapsulating large parts of the previously existing nations of France, Germany, Belgium, Italy, and Switzerland.

Still, while XION’s revolution swept the Earth, the United States remained untouched by their influence. Despite a constant increase in rebel activity throughout the country they refused contact, preferring to carry the fight themselves rather than allow foreign troops to cross their borders.

Inevitably, on October 14, 2034, their resistance finally failed as the President of the USA declared martial law. Immediately the military presence across the country increased further still. Again, however, the efforts were in vain. Having taken too long to act, a nationwide rebellion had already been able to plant its roots and the US soon became the latest region to be engulfed in civil war.

For three years the war rumbled on, although it was remarkable that it lasted so long. One by one, states fell out of the military’s control as their forces dwindled, driving the nation to the brink of complete collapse. In desperation the military abandoned their principles and turned to XION. As soon as a deal was reached XION deployed a small force to stem the tide while recruiting two million Americans into their Advanced Training Programme.

Four years later, in 2041, the new American-XION armed forces rolled out across thirty-seven states and within a year had begun to wrestle back control of the country. In 2042, as the war began to swing in their favour, NASA – who hadn’t been heard from since before the outbreak of war – announced the discovery of a faraway planet capable of supporting human life. They branded it the Altaris Project – the beginning of a new world. With hopes of rebuilding Earth having been all but extinguished, it was portrayed as a second chance for all of humanity to start again. With the help of XION the US would become the first nation to colonise another planet and begin a new chapter for the human race.

During the following months NASA unveiled the products of a decade spent working on the ground-breaking project. Twenty gigantic star-ships descended on Boston, Massachusetts, all capable of simultaneously transporting hundreds of thousands of people through space at velocities exceeding even the speed of light. Before long an initial sample of 2 million American citizens from military controlled states had been selected to begin populating the planet, and a year later, on February 7, 2043, the first wave of ships departed the city on course for the planet of Altaris. When they touched down three years later, in the spring of 2046, so commenced a new era for humanity.

CHAPTER 1

NEW TOKYO

02:42, June 26, 2049 – New Tokyo, Altaris

Owyn clenched his fists, feeling the blood surge into his arms. He took a deep, long breath before allowing his eyelids to drop gently over his eyes. Silence surrounded him. The air was still. If not for the soft, humming vibration in the floor beneath his feet he may even have been able to forget where he was.

Special Officer Owyn Carter was an ISO Operative. While that would have meant very little to any ordinary citizen of Altaris, he played a vital role in the lives of everyone living in the new world.
Intelligence and Special Operations
was a covert branch of the planet’s military, tasked with dealing in the less savoury aspects of planetary security: assassinations, abductions, data grabs – anything that would be better kept away from the public eye. Therefore, it wasn’t unusual for him to find himself packed inside the cramped cockpit of a high speed jet at 50,000 feet on a rainy summer’s evening.

Aside from the bench where he was sat, strapped up against the side wall of the cockpit, there was barely any space for him to move in any direction, and all the while he was mere inches away from the rear airlock. That, perhaps, made forgetting a little more difficult.

Owyn opened his eyes, released himself from his seat and leaned over the back of the pilot’s seat. In place of a transparent front window every ISO jet was equipped with a huge holographic screen capable of simultaneously displaying a dozen different camera feeds from both the jet’s exterior and the city below along with a whole host of other information. At the moment, given the lack of activity in any of the pictures, everything appeared to be suitably normal and boring.

“How’re we doing, Sully?” Owyn asked.

“ETA is fifty-six seconds. You better get yourself ready,” his pilot replied from deep in the cushions of his chair.

In addition t
o
being Owyn’s personal chauffeur, Corporal Mike ‘Sully’ Sullivan was the brainbox of ISO – or at least that was how he saw it. As well as being responsible for designing and testing near every piece of unique and experimental tech used by the department, he also acted as Head of Intelligence in Owyn’s squad – their eye in the sky on every mission.

Owyn opened up a compartment in the wall and pulled out his helmet. He was already kitted out in his combat suit, consisting of a jet black skin of woven metals held tightly to his body, so precisely shaped to his compact, muscular figure that he could hardly feel it was there. It allowed for completely unhindered movement and flexibility, although also provided the slightly disconcerting sensation that he was rather more exposed than he was in reality. He spent so much time wearing it that it felt as good as a part of him, only adding to that feeling.

Clasped around it was a lightweight armoured exoskeleton and his belt, which was laden with a wide assortment of gadgets and gizmos – some of which even he knew nothing about – along with the usual array of ammunition, explosives and most importantly his handgun, the
Gratia C90
.

It was a custom model of course; a prime example of Sully’s work. Owyn liked to claim that the name had some sort of poetic meaning, but in truth it was little more than a sophisticated sounding Latin word coupled with a random selection of letters and numbers, because every gun needs that, right?

The weapon itself was a slick, sci-fi rendition of the SIG-Sauer P226, a favourite of Owyn’s from his early days of service on Earth. What it lacked in range and power it made up for in short distance precision, which was exactly what the job required. It was fitted with an automatically adjusting red-dot sight which compensated for the movement between his hand and eye-line as well as Sully’s trademark ‘
Mk. III Rapid Polarising Firing Mechanism
’, which as Owyn understood it involved a conducting metal coil charging his bullets so that on impact they would discharge an electrical burst powerful enough to stop a human heart in an instant. However exactly it worked, it was frighteningly effective.

“Forty seconds,” Sully updated him. “You looking forward to this, O?”

Owyn dismissed the effort to uncover uncertainty. “It’s just another mission, Sully. Nothing to worry about.”

“Sure it is.” Sully wasn’t easily thrown off a scent.

“Come on, Sully. Don’t put me down. You’re supposed to have my back.”

Sully chuckled. “I know you, O, and you don’t do cool. I reckon you’re putting this on so you don’t give Shaw something to chew on.”

“You know what? Keep it shut, Sully. That’s an order.” Owyn was quickly realising the perks of his newfound authority.

“That ain’t going to work on me, buddy.” Sully was shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret. Just try not to screw up, okay? You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pissing on your corpse.”

“Thanks, Sully. I’m glad to see you’re being positive.” Owyn’s sarcasm was almost tangible.

“I’m always positive. You should know that by now.” He smiled to himself. “Alright, we’re approaching the drop zone.”

Owyn muttered some words of reassurance to himself as he opened the airlock door and stepped inside. The hatch closed behind him and sealed with a clunk to leave him enclosed in the tiny chamber alone. He pulled his helmet down over his short cut, red-brown hair and activated the visor’s electronic display, giving him everything from his heart rate and altitude to the local weather forecast right before his eyes. It also gave Sully a constant video feed, allowing him to keep tabs on the mission from inside the jet.

Confident that everything was in order Owyn breathed deeply before initiating his comms to open a channel to the rest of the squad. “Sully?”

Sully answered his request and cranked up the volume. The pounding of drums rolled in through the comms. A few beats later came the crunching buzz of an electric guitar atop a booming bass line. Owyn hadn’t a clue what the track was called, and he couldn’t care less who it was by. All he knew was that it got his blood pumping and that was all that mattered in the last few seconds before a drop.

“Do us a favour, Carter, and keep that fucking racket to yourself,” Shaw said. He sounded calm enough, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“No can do, I’m afraid. This mission’s under my command so I say we’re doing things my way.” Owyn had long awaited the freedom to take a few stabs at his teammate, and he had a feeling it was going to be just as satisfying as he’d imagined.

“Under your command? Fuck you, Carter. This is a live mission, not a chance for you to fuck around.”

“Come on, Shaw. Lighten up for once. What harm has a bit of rock and roll ever done?”

“Let him have his peace, Carter,” said the stern voice of O’Brien. “I’d rather not piss him off before we even hit the ground.”

Owyn sighed. “Alright. Just don’t try telling me we don’t have enough fun on the job.” He shut off the comms so that he was once again speaking only to Sully.

Sergeant Major Katherine O’Brien and Specialist Kendrick Shaw were two of the Operatives who worked alongside Owyn as part of ISO’s Alpha squad.

An expert in stealth and close quarters combat, O’Brien was just as clinical and precise with her tongue as with her blade, meaning an argument with her was never something to wish for. That being said, having her on side was of utmost importance. Her voice of reason had saved Owyn’s ass on more occasions than he’d have been willing to admit. And, although she preferred not to bring it up, she was by far the youngest of all of ISO’s Operatives – at just 23 she was seven years short of Owyn and eight of Shaw – which served as testament to her talents.

Shaw, in contrast, was just as heavy handed in combat as he was with his words. He was a mountain of a man, carrying enough muscle mass in one bicep to send most men running, yet his greatest skill was with a scope. He was ISO’s most capable sniper, with stronger feelings for his rifle than he’d ever felt towards another person. Outside of missions he preferred to keep social interaction to a minimum, not that he was able to keep Owyn from taunting him to the edge of his sanity. The two of them had been part of the same squad with XION for a number of years even before joining ISO, yet they’d never exactly bonded during their time together.

“See you on the other side, O.” Sully said, before hitting the switch to open the airlock door.

The air from the cabin was instantly sucked through the opening, dragging Owyn with it and flinging him into the void. Icy crystals immediately began forming on his visor, reminding him of exactly where he was. He glimpsed the shadow of the jet vanish into the distance and then quickly manoeuvred himself into a nosedive, seizing control of his descent.

A few dwindling, golden rays of sunlight cut between the dark expanse of space above and the glistening sea of cloud below as Altaris’ sun, Novus, sank below the horizon. It was a sight of wonder that very few people ever had the opportunity to experience, yet it hardly even drew Owyn’s gaze. He had taken this journey so many times before that he took it for granted. All he saw was another part of the job. Sometimes he started to wonder whether he’d miss it, but before he had a chance to consider it was gone again.

He cut into the first layer of cloud and for a moment he was blinded, until once again he was thrust into emptiness. As the air thickened and the sky darkened, he faded into invisibility like a raven in the night. The final layer of cloud would soon be upon him, and once he emerged he would have mere seconds to react and navigate the city’s rooftops – otherwise end up as a bloodied mess on a penthouse window. He looked directly down and focused in on the beat of the music that continued to pound inside his helmet. The cloud swallowed him. He breathed in.

As the carnival lights of New Tokyo flashed into focus Owyn immediately spun to his right. The peak of the tallest skyscraper flashed by before he needed to readjust himself again to slip through the slender gap between a pair of towers. Ice cold rain was lashing down alongside him and powerful gusts of wind made his manoeuvres even trickier, but he could adapt. He’d dealt with worse than this.

Through his visor Sully located and marked his landing zone, halfway up a building a few blocks ahead of him. A brief burst from his suit’s thrusters sent him hurtling forwards and within seconds he was closing on impact. Another burst of thrust erupted behind his ankles, flipping him upright. Delicately pressing his hands and feet onto the glass surface, billions of microscopic pads on his palms generated enough force to allow him to cling to the wall.

His momentum kept him moving downwards, sliding down the side of the building at a terrific pace. His heart leapt forwards and his pulse raced. He cursed and cried out as his muscles tensed all at once. His boots screeched against the glass as he pressed into it with all of his strength. Sweat was building on the inside of his gloves and running down his brow. He held his breath. Finally the strain eased. Slowly but surely his velocity was beginning to wane. The rushing winds slowed around him. At last he came to a stop.

The air flooded out of his lungs in a long, exasperated sigh.

“You alright there, O? You sound a little tired out,” Sully’s voice echoed in his ears. He sounded somewhat pleased with himself.

“Fine,” Owyn squeaked, the strength having been sapped from his voice. “Your suit doesn’t stick too well to glass, does it?”

“Apparently not, no.” Sully acted awfully more casually than he should have.

“You know you could have told me
before
you had me try to land on a glass building,” Owyn replied. “Just a thought.”

“In my defence, I didn’t have the resources to fully test it, so I couldn’t be sure. And besides, I didn’t want to discourage you. It is your big day after all,” Sully explained.

“Fuck you, Sully.”

A few moments later O’Brien arrived and skidded to a halt beside him. She, predictably, had been far less affected by the ordeal and made no fuss at all. Owyn’s mood suddenly brightened as a thought flickered in his mind. “How far do you reckon he’ll slide?” he asked O’Brien. He glanced down at the road, more than a hundred floors beneath them.

“He isn’t going to be happy, that’s for sure,” she answered.

Right on cue Shaw hit the building with a gratifying thud and zipped past the pair in a flash. Clawing desperately at the glass he finally halted his fall five levels further down.

“Smooth landing, Shaw?” Owyn taunted him, already grinning widely in anticipation of his reaction.

“Did Sullivan forget to tell us that his suits don’t stick to fucking glass?” Shaw yelled, the anger in his voice intensifying with every word.

“I’m amazed you didn’t slip right off, big guy. Look on the bright side. Now you’ve got some motivation to watch your diet,” Owyn said, beaming with satisfaction.

“One day you’ll work out why no one listens to any of the shit that comes out of your mouth, Carter,” Shaw snarled.

“And why’s that? The same reason no one ever talks to you? Or is that just because you’re a miserable ass all the damn time?”

“Is your skull really that thick? We’re on a mission. Both you and Sullivan need to start taking it seriously.”

“Oh, calm the hell down, Shaw. You aren’t dead are you?” O’Brien snapped back at him.

Owyn took the opportunity to take another bite. “You’ve got to admit, you do bring it on yourself. You can’t throw all of the blame on us.”

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