2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) (8 page)

Dresden Locke, commanding officer of the secretive Sanctuary Exploration Division, the SED, shifted in his seat as he waited to be seen by a high ranking GMRC official. Across from him sat one General Stevens, a U.S. Army officer who oversaw the SED’s operations out in the dangerous environment of Sanctuary Proper, beyond the safety of the USSB. Stevens, a larger than life individual with an extensive gut stretching his officer’s uniform to bursting, sucked on a similarly fat cigar, the end glowing orange as the packed leaves crackled and popped as they ignited under combustion. Between the two men, a pall of smoke hung in the room’s reception area and General Stevens’ eyes had closed in apparent relaxation.

Locke, on the other hand, was far from at ease. As a civilian he rarely mixed with the upper hierarchy, be they U.S. government, GMRC or dual role chameleons who held positions within both power structures; however, he’d received a video call earlier that evening requesting his attendance at Sanctuary’s giant GMRC Command Complex and ever since he’d been on edge. Getting impatient, he stood up and walked to the window to look out at the dark landscape of the Dome level’s New Park district. Simulated night reigned and his reflection stared back at him in mute contemplation. In his fifties, Locke had short silver-grey hair framing an uncompromising expression. A strong jaw, broad shoulders and narrow waist indicated he worked out, while his white and red SED uniform hugged his athletic figure in a complimentary fashion.

The GMRC dignitary’s personal aide, who’d introduced himself as Grant Debden and sat at a curved reception desk, cleared his throat. ‘The director will see you now.’

Locke gave a nod and nudged the foot of the general, who’d failed to stir from his slumber.

‘What?’ he said, sitting up in his seat, a lump of ash from the end of his cigar drifting to the floor.

‘Time to face the music,’ Locke said.

Stevens grunted and stood up, his paunch bulging out like some vast, personal airbag, fit to burst. The general held out a hand for him to lead the way.

Opening one of the large double doors, Locke’s expression changed from guarded apprehension to surprise. The room inside glowed with the warmth of a summer’s eve at dusk, the beautiful rays of a setting sun sinking down in multicoloured skies to caress the verdant foliage of a lush, tropical forest beneath. Walking inside it seemed as if he’d been transported to another world, a world where the high altitude dust cloud did not exist – a world at peace in tranquil splendour. The experience felt real, immersive and more than a little uplifting.

The tall, slender figure of a man rose from behind a desk that blended into the background. ‘Take a seat, gentlemen,’ he said, his voice cutting, the tone verging on nasal.

Locke and Stevens did as instructed and the general leaned forward to offer his hand in greeting, but the moment turned awkward when the gesture failed to be reciprocated.

The man eyed each of them without saying a word, the discomfort of the situation palpable against the background of the forest sounds that surrounded them.

‘You know why you are both here?’ the man said, still standing.

Locke glanced at General Stevens who looked less than impressed by how things were proceeding.

‘It would help if we knew who you were,’ Locke said, feeling the need to say something – anything to get some meaningful dialogue moving.

‘The general knows who I am, don’t you, General?’

Stevens took a drag on his cigar but failed to respond, his eyes narrowing.

‘My name,’ he said, looking to Locke, ‘is Malcolm Joiner and I’m the U.S. and GMRC Director of Intelligence.’ He turned away from them. ‘I also have a seat on the GMRC Directorate.’

Locke tensed at the word
Directorate
, knowing full well the power wielded by those on the Global Meteor Response Council’s controlling assembly.

‘It has come to my attention,’ the director continued, ‘that the two of you have a lot to answer for with regard to recent events within Sanctuary’s Exploration Division.’

The general ran the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘I wasn’t the one who hired her.’

Joiner turned back round, a sneer distorting his face. ‘Excellent tactics, General. Lay the blame for your own ineptitude at the door of another. I’d expect nothing less from an incompetent such as yourself.’

General Stevens didn’t respond, but his blotchy face had turned a brighter shade of red, his jowls taut with anger.

‘It’s true I hired the woman,’ Locke said, feeling he might as well lay it out as it was, ‘but the military gave me the green light, they vetted her. This is a U.S. military base, is it not?’

‘Ah, touché, Mr. Locke,’ Joiner said, his voice dripping with venom, ‘touché. Perhaps I should record this meeting as a lesson in how to pass the buck.’ The GMRC director looked from Locke to Stevens and back to Locke again. ‘Nothing else to say?’

Locke remained silent and Stevens followed suit. Both could see where this conversation was going and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Joiner switched his attention to the screen on his desk. ‘Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?’ he said, glancing up at them. ‘How did this interloper enter Sanctuary in the first place?’

‘She told us they entered by a series of tunnels,’ Locke said.

Joiner sat down in his chair. ‘Only these mystery tunnels were never found, were they not?’

Locke shook his head in affirmation.

‘So,’ Joiner continued, eyeing the general, ‘when these three civilians turned up miles underground in the most secure facility on the planet, instead of keeping them locked up indefinitely until we found the gaping hole in our security grid, you decided to let them walk free around the base as permanent citizens?’

‘Do you know how big this installation is?’ Stevens said. ‘Twenty million souls live and work down here; you think I’m the only staffer in charge? I had nothing to do with their release, or with the interrogations. Ask one of my colleagues the whys and wherefores and then you’ll get your answers.’

Joiner looked back to his screen. ‘It seems we already have and said colleagues have been reassigned to surface duties. If you continue to renege on your responsibilities you’ll soon be joining them. And believe me when I say, General, the surface will soon be a place you most certainly won’t want to be.’

General Stevens turned a whiter shade of pale, clearly aware of the implications inherent in the director’s words. Locke frowned; he knew the surface was bad, what with the dust cloud and civil unrest, but judging by Joiner’s threat and Stevens’ reaction it seemed like there was something else to fear. What that could be he could only guess, but whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.

‘Now,’ Joiner said, moving his attention back to Locke, ‘this woman, free to wander as she pleased, then managed to break into Sanctuary’s restricted Exploration Division, the illustrious SED; but rather than have her thrown into prison for the rest of her days you conspired to have her released from military custody for a second time and …’ Joiner paused and shook his head and gave a snort of derision, his expression incredulous. ‘Forgive me, I find this hard to believe … and then you gave her a job
in
the SED. If I were a crass man, Commander Locke, I’d probably say something like: are you
fucking
kidding me?’ At these words Joiner’s false mirth fell from his face, which had turned white with anger.

Pinned down by the director’s fury, Locke’s words caught in his throat. What could he say? The man had a point. While Locke hadn’t come up with the idea, he had sanctioned it and seen the sense in the woman’s induction into his operation. She was perfectly suited to becoming a part of SED operations, having both the qualifications and potential to go all the way to the top. That was until she’d thrown the opportunity back in his face, bringing down with it the mother of all shitstorms.

Locke dropped his gaze and Joiner’s lip curled with contempt before he continued his summation. ‘With her training in the art of traversing Sanctuary Proper complete, her skills at evasion increased, this woman, who was no doubt marvelling at the ineptitude of the halfwits in charge, then took it upon herself to break into the Smithsonian’s secure vaults and from there into the military’s vault array. There, she helped herself to various priceless Anakim artefacts and proceeded to disable the security grid within a square mile radius. She then waltzed into the level ten restricted access area of the U.S. military laboratory complex housed beneath and stole an object of supreme scientific interest.’ Joiner paused for breath and then stood up and paced away to gaze out at the majesty of the surrounding flora and fauna as darkness fell.

‘After completing her heist,’ he said, resuming the monologue, ‘said individual assaulted a Smithsonian worker and then murdered an SED employee before fleeing the base in a stolen air-shuttle with her two co-conspirators. In the process she detonated a device which obliterated the shuttle track and accompanying launch mechanism, rendering the possibility of any pursuit nonexistent. Have I missed anything out?’

Locke and Stevens avoided Joiner’s gaze.

The intelligence director shook his head. ‘You couldn’t make this mess up.’ Walking back to his desk, he removed his glasses and began cleaning the lenses with a soft cloth. ‘So, gentlemen,’ he said, continuing the task of polishing, ‘what do you propose we do to rectify this issue?’

‘Repairs on the shuttle track are already underway;’ Locke told him. ‘They’ll be finished within two weeks.’

‘I’ve briefed a Special Forces squad from the Subterranean Detachment on a seek and capture mission,’ General Stevens said. ‘They’ll be ready to go as soon as the track is operational.’

Joiner replaced his spectacles and leant forward, his eyes afire with fettered wrath. ‘The track will be finished within three days; I guarantee it, and General, a squad – really? Let me tell you how it’s going to be. I want teams out searching Sanctuary Proper for how this person infiltrated this base. I want units on the surface scouring the land for entrances. I want every Special Forces regiment and all SED personnel ready for deployment by air-shuttle at a moment’s notice. I—’

‘You can want all you like,’ Stevens said, looking belligerent, ‘I don’t have the manpower.’

The blood drained from Joiner’s face. ‘You will have, General, because when you leave this office you’ll give the order to mobilize this entire base.’

General Stevens choked on his cigar smoke. ‘The entire base? You’re out of your mind. I won’t back that!’

The director snatched something up and slammed it down.

Stevens cried out in pain and Locke jumped up from his seat in shock. The handle of a knife stuck out from the back of the general’s hand, pinning him to the desk. Stevens groaned as he attempted to remove the blade, but the pain was too great as blood pooled between his fingers.

Joiner grasped the general’s other hand, preventing him from making further attempts to free himself, as Locke looked on in horror.

‘I’m going to flood Sanctuary Proper with every man, woman and child if that’s what it takes to bring this woman in, do you hear me, General?’ Joiner said, through clenched teeth.

The general, captivated by the intelligence director’s intensity, continued to squirm in pain.

‘I – you – we all won’t rest until this woman, this English archaeologist, this thief is found, do you hear me?!’ Joiner released his hold and raised his manic gaze to Locke. ‘I’ll have this person, alive or dead, whatever it takes, JUST BRING ME SARAH MORGAN!’

TERMINOLOGY / MAP

USSB – United States Subterranean Base

GMRC – Global Meteor Response Council

Darklight – World’s largest private security contractor

SFSD – Special Forces Subterranean Detachment (
Terra Force
)

SED – Sanctuary Exploration Division

Deep Reach – Special survey team working within the SED

S.I.L.V.E.R. – An elite military unit available to the highest bidder

Sanctuary Proper – Ancient underground structure built by an extinct species of Hominid, Homo giganthropsis (the Anakim)

[For easy reference this page is duplicated in the final Appendix]

[For easy reference this page is duplicated in the final Appendix and is also listed as the last entry in the
Table of Contents
]

Chapter Five

Crumbling buildings of Anakim origin rose out of the gloom like phantoms in the night, their arcane forms striking alien visions to those that passed them by. Huge abandoned highways and tiny narrow paths wound their way through the enormity of Sanctuary Proper, that stretched out eternal. Untrodden for untold millennia, the three dimensional nature of the subterranean relic induced a kind of sensory overload to any person travelling within its boundless realm; the darkness, all-consuming, all-encompassing, accentuated the eerie silence that permeated the very air, the very fabric of its nature. The endless procession of tunnels, caves, crevasses and cliffs ate into the psyche as the choice of direction for the unwary wayfarer spun off every which way; an array of options each with a fatal potential leading to ends suitable for the dead. A loss of concentration or misplaced step, a sudden turn or ill-timed leap, a disaster waiting to happen, a disaster as unforgiving as the rocky foundations above and beneath, behind and before.