2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) (6 page)

Joiner didn’t respond; he held her gaze until her brow furrowed in warning, then looked away.

She turned her back on him and moved a few steps ahead, the heels of her shoes impacting the polished tiles underfoot, the noise acute in the silence. ‘We are aware of your efforts to find out about Project Ares,’ she said, after a pause.

Joiner licked his lips as the unfamiliar sensation of fear tore at his mental foundation.

She remained stock still and moved her head a fraction in his direction. ‘Did you think we would not find out?’

‘It’s my job to know all.’

‘Except when told otherwise.’

‘I didn’t realise I had been told.’

‘Director,’ she said, ‘come, let’s not play games.’

‘How do you expect me to do my job without all the information on which to base my decisions?’

‘Project Ares is not pertinent to your goals; take no further steps to finding out its purpose. Is that clear enough for you, or do I need to clarify our position further?’

Joiner knew full well what kind of
clarification
she alluded to. He took a step forward. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

‘Good, it would displease me should our association sour.’

The woman moved off once more in a slow, measured stroll that forced Joiner to follow.

‘You know why you were summoned?’ she said as he drew alongside.

Joiner remained silent.

A smile twisted her lips as she relished his ignorance. ‘There are certain
incidents
that have transpired since your last visit that we need addressed.’

‘Richard Goodwin?’

‘Steadfast’s director, his civilians and Darklight mercenaries will have long since perished in the bowels of Sanctuary Proper.’

‘The base’s generals failed to locate them?’

‘It seems their abilities and resolve are limited.’

‘They’re resisting the transition of power?’

‘It was foreseen,’ she said, ‘which is why you’re here to aid in their motivation.’

‘Motivation for what?’

‘A recent event within the military’s vaults and laboratory complex has come to our attention. An object was stolen that needs recovering.’

‘An object?’

‘An Anakim artefact.’

Joiner’s curiosity rose. ‘What is its significance?’

Selene Dubois stopped pacing, once more standing on Sanctuary’s impressive seal in the centre of the room. She looked at him, her clasped hands giving away the telltale signs of impatience,
or is it anxiety?
Joiner wondered.

‘It holds the key to everything we’re working towards,’ she said, unable to keep an intensity from her voice.

‘It’s vital, then?’

She gave a nod. ‘The object in question is a five sided metallic pendant that enables its wearer to activate Anakim technology.’

Joiner’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You’re sure of this?’

‘The Committee has marked the acquisition of this object as its top priority. No stone can be left unturned in its retrieval.’

‘An artefact of such value wasn’t protected?’

‘We were unaware of its import. Despite this, it was secured in a military vault, but the person who took it was able to breach its security.’

‘A professional?’

‘It seems not; at least, not a professional thief.’

‘How have they not been found?’ he said, perplexed. ‘The base is finite and everyone’s movements are traceable.’

‘They’re no longer inside the base.’

Joiner’s confusion increased. ‘The base is in lockdown, how did they make it to the surface?’

‘They didn’t. As far as we know they are traversing Sanctuary Proper as we speak.’

‘Then they’re as good as dead.’

Selene paused. ‘Not necessarily.’

Joiner couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing and it must have shown.

‘There are mitigating circumstances which will become apparent,’ she told him. ‘Needless to say this individual is also of interest to us. A dossier and select video footage awaits in your office. And Director, remember, despite what you see, further enquiries into Project Ares will not be tolerated.’

‘What resources do I have at my disposal?’ Joiner said.

‘Everything. We want this artefact by any means necessary – whatever you need to achieve this goal, it’s yours.’

Joiner nodded, the thrill at having such carte blanche tempered by the weight of responsibility he now bore. ‘You must know,’ he said, ‘there’s no guarantee, if they’re in Sanctuary Proper, of any retrieval.’

The woman gave him an indecipherable look and then walked away to the imposing doors she’d entered by.

Fearing he’d said the wrong thing, Joiner went to say something else, but her voice curtailed his efforts.

‘S.I.L.V.E.R. have been recalled from the field. They will arrive within the day.’

‘All of them?’

‘Yes,’ she said, her voice growing fainter as she moved further away. ‘They are to lead the operation on the ground, under your direction.’

Passing back through the great archway, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. ‘Make sure to use your resources well, Malcolm Joiner,’ she said, her voice drifting through the quiet. ‘Failure is not an option.’

Chapter Two

The doors closed behind the tall, slender figure of Selene Dubois, leaving Joiner alone, her final words of warning ringing in his ears. Without instigation, the two purple clad soldiers reappeared at the edge of the Anakim antechamber to escort him back to the lift.

On the long descent down the side of the Anakim tower, Joiner contemplated the work he was to carry out on behalf of the Committee. Find and return a precious Anakim artefact, along with the person who’d managed to steal it. No mean feat considering the size of Sanctuary Proper. Even with the help of S.I.L.V.E.R. and with all the manpower within USSB Sanctuary at his disposal, the chances of success were slim; the dangers and difficulties involved when traversing the endless underground chambers, tunnels and cave systems of Sanctuary Proper were legendary. Although, from what the Committee member had indicated, this thief may be more equipped to deal with these obstacles than most.

There must be something she hasn’t told me,
he reasoned,
they wouldn’t give me an impossible task to complete – unless, that is, they want me to fail
. The idea was a disturbing one.

Avoiding thinking about the implications of such a possibility and eager to find out more about this intriguing turn of events, Joiner strode out of the elevator as its doors opened and made his way towards the shiny black limousine that sat parked a hundred feet away. His entourage of U.S. GMRC intelligence agents, who’d been waiting for his return, fell into step alongside. A door was opened for him and Joiner settled into the electric car’s plush interior while his underlings returned to the other SUVs in the five strong motorcade. Sitting in the back of the stretched vehicle as his driver navigated through the light traffic of USSB Sanctuary’s New Park district, Joiner’s lip curled into a sneer as he recalled his brief exchanges with the woman and the subsequent humiliation he’d been subjected to. A repressed adolescent memory flashed into his mind, elicited by the unwanted emotion. Fury seethed to the surface.
How dare she threaten me. ME!
The knuckles on his leather glove creaked and stretched as he bunched a fist, his eyes burning bright.

He held his clenched hand thus, channelling his anger into it before letting it ebb away. Slowing his breathing, Joiner poured himself a glass of bourbon from a crystal decanter and took a sip, his usual self-control restored.
So the Committee seeks to keep Project Ares to themselves,
he mused.
If they think a simple warning will scare me off, they’re mistaken. In fact, it has only fuelled my curiosity further. What aren’t they telling me? What are they so keen to hide?
Joiner knew the folly of disobeying direct instructions; however, he’d amassed a lot of power in his time as intelligence director and even more when he’d assumed his position on the pre-eminent GMRC Directorate. He’d also accumulated a lot of allies over the years, willing and otherwise, many of whom were beyond even the Committee’s extensive reach. He was no longer the naïve man who’d been coerced into their service all those years ago.

He stared into his glass. His previous efforts at finding out the inner workings of Project Ares had clearly been too overt, and he knew he must cover his tracks better if he was to find out more about this black project that seemed to have more layers than a supersized prizewinning onion. He prided himself on knowing everyone’s business – everyone that mattered, that was – and now the Committee had reined him in they would have to be taught that he was not for controlling. He pursed his lips and sighed. That time had not yet arrived, however. He’d worked for far too long to secure their trust; to throw that away was unthinkable. He was so close now; he could taste it. Each step drew him nearer to becoming one of their number and then their deepest secrets would be his. Secrets he wanted … no –
had
– to know.

When he completed this task the Committee would be forced to accept him into the fold. He’d been promised an opportunity, this must be it. When he secured them this incredible artefact surely they could not refuse him any longer?

Of course, when he entered their ranks they would have to be made aware of just whom they were dealing with. When that day came he would make them feel the fear they’d induced in him tenfold. The thought of bringing them low, of the terror in their faces, brought an inhuman glimmer to his eyes. But as of that moment his and the Committee’s goals were still aligned and such fascinations, delightful as they were, needed to be put on hold.

The movement of the limousine ceased, bringing Joiner’s attention back to the present. His door opened and a wash of warm air entered the air-conditioned cabin. He exited and made his way into USSB Sanctuary’s GMRC Command Complex, where he submitted to the minor irritation of security checks. He then took a super swift vacuum elevator up to his office suite, located on the one-hundred-and-first floor of the functional glass-clad building.

Leaving his minions to their own devices, Joiner entered his office and shut the doors behind him. As if by magic the room’s walls, ceiling and floor lit up, their state-of-the-art displays powering to life and producing a seamless three hundred and sixty degree 3D visual marvel. Instead of standing in a mundane office, Joiner was now surrounded by the Brazilian rainforest as it had looked before the dust cloud had stolen away its life-giving sunlight. Vibrant greens of dense foliage filled his vision, from horizon to distant horizon. Above, the azure skies of the Amazon shone like the mythical pellucid seas of Atlantis, picture perfect in their majesty and populated with a rainbow of ornithological plumage.

Joiner closed his eyes and took a deep breath, imagining the sweet scents that would surround him if the image were real. He stood there for some moments, but as hard as he tried no smells could be conjured forth, only the faint aroma of filtered air and the chemicals used to dry-clean his suit registering from reality. Annoyed at buying into the stress management techniques suggested by his overpaid physician, Joiner walked to the screen and tapped it with two fingers. A graphical command grid appeared in front of him. Selecting his network files, a red-flagged, unread digital package stood out from its fellows. Joiner opened it and an array of documents popped up to arrange themselves throughout the grid.

The dossier promised him by Selene, on behalf of the Committee, was detailed and extensive. Moving to his desk, Joiner transferred the information to the wallscreen behind him and settled into his chair to digest the information contained within.

♦

A couple of hours had passed since Joiner had laid eyes on the digital dossier and during that time he’d been joined by one of his top agents. And while their discussions had been grand in scope, talk inevitably returned to a subject that cropped up time and again.

‘Project Ares was investigated wholly in-house,’ Joiner said. ‘No outside agencies were used.’

‘You suspect a leak?’

‘I don’t suspect. I know.’

‘You want further enquiries off the books?’

Joiner considered the man before him. Agent Myers, a nondescript fellow of above average height and build, and Joiner’s right-hand man, had proved invaluable over the years. A member of the CIA’s Special Operations Group with a dual position as a high-ranking GMRC intelligence agent, his skills and professionalism were second to none. Joiner rarely relied on specific people, but Myers was the exception to the rule.

‘I’ll make it happen,’ Agent Myers said, recognising Joiner’s silence to be the affirmation he intended.

Joiner went back to perusing the documents provided by the Committee. He frowned. Some of the video files had been extensively censored, minutes of footage disappearing behind a wall of black and white static. Considering the warning he’d been given, he knew the missing segments must conceal vital information about Project Ares.
If I want to reveal what lies beneath
, Joiner thought,
I’ll have to ensure anyone working on their decryption is kept in the dark as to their content, especially considering the leak and my tenuous position with the Committee.

‘There’s something else,’ Myers said.

Joiner looked up, his expression quizzical.

‘We’ve had reports from throughout the GMRC and U.S. military that …’ Myers’ voice tailed off.

‘That?’ Joiner prompted.

‘Debris from geosynchronous orbit has been tracked entering the atmosphere.’

‘Debris from what?’

‘It appears the asteroid intercept missions planned by the GMRC’s Space Programme will not be proceeding as envisaged.’

Joiner frowned and sat up straighter. ‘Debris from what?’ he repeated, concerned.

‘The reports indicate that a catastrophic failure in the International Space Station’s propulsion system created a chain of events that has induced a series of explosions, destroying the ISS.’