Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary (26 page)

 After four upward steps he peered along
the rack tops.

All were indeed empty and covered with countless
years of dust. It was worth a look, he thought in disappointment, and was about
to step down when at eye level the dust appeared raised at the far corner of
the Geography rack top.

He moved the ladder and reached over. Then
disbelievingly held a dust coated volume, very small, it fitted snugly into his
hand. Obviously the library’s metal guardian was unable to clean up here. Knowing
this, someone generations ago had hidden the volume where only deliberate
searching would spot it. He rubbed the dust off the book cover; it had a plain
dark grey cover unlike any other book. The page binding was glued into the
cover itself in a method he had already learnt was called ‘perfect binding’.
The cover was
embossed in gold with the words.

Air Force Memo

He recognised the symbol for The United
States Air Force which was embossed below the three words. He had no idea what
the symbol meant, he had come across it in an encyclopaedia, he resolved to
research the Air Force’s purpose later.

He thumbed the faded pages.
It was a handwritten
personal account, a well used notebook called a ‘Diary’. And within was a firsthand
account
in
a fine spidery hand. Nardin confronted many unknown words, then he realised
they were slang which he had not previously encountered in the official books.  

     Then toward the end of the notebook
the Goddess Jadde started appearing in the scrawl. She was mentioned in capitals
as correctly the author had given her special significance.

He slipped the book into his pocket. He couldn’t
leave it behind, it was too important to risk leaving near the guardian, and
too late to get engrossed now.

He closed the hidden door above and woke
Steth up and wished him a good night. The old man put his hand fondly on his
shoulder and asked how the day’s research had gone.

‘Still no sign of anything useful,’ Nardin
said, the lie covered his excitement completely.

Nardin strolled back to his comfy home as
if it had just been another day’s hunt. Rose welcomed him and he relaxed with
his family before ordering his children to bed. Then he dare not examine the
book in candlelight, fearing an accident and imagining an awful bonfire of
pages. Also poor light made his eyes ache recently and he realised the reading
was beginning to affect him.

The next morning he woke with a start,
sunrise was just breaking and had woken the birds. Bright light spilt across
his bed where he lay entwined with Rose.

The book.

It stabbed his mind, that’s what his
subconscious had woken him for so early. He gently removed Rose’s arm, dressed
and quickly washed. He guessed he had an hour before his family woke. So he
pulled up a chair next to the window, opened the book and began to read the
first page.

The Mission Diary
of Lieutenant Edward Morris-Tailt.

And on the line below.

Third strike Eagle
Squadron Fifth Air-force

And then a third line

July 2044 - Aug
2046

Nardin turned over each page of neat lettering,
noticing that a new set of numbers had been entered after most paragraphs. He
started reading ten pages before Jadde entered the account – to try to
understand the strange terminology before relating it to her glorious deeds.

Flight mission 104 –- Bomb run.

Central Command has received reports of another
new nest of quarter-men. They’ve tunnelled in deep but hopefully the new AS-486
bomb will destroy the bastards.

Post-mission reconnaissance shows we
disturbed them like ants from a nest. Took extra fly past for HD video and observed
them milling around in demented frustration. AS-486 failed to destroy enough
mutants.

Mission 105 – Repeat bombing.

Dawn raid when the mutants are most active
above ground, a second attempt for AS-486 to destroy them. Looks like a
failure, no complete kill.

Mission 106 recce. We failed. X-ray and
infra-red photos show they’ve just dug deeper – the fiends.  They’re remorseless
and never tire. If only the politicians had decided to destroy them earlier,
our country could have been saved. But political correctness and
over-sensitivity have destroyed us instead.

August 28 – 30th

My F26 bird now down for maintenance, parts
hard to come by.

It meant nothing to Nardin, the use of
unrelated letters and numbers were meaningless. He guessed they represented the
type of flying machine and possibly weapons.

He skipped two pages and tried another
entry. Then paused, of course, they were in chronological order; someone was
detailing battles and summarising the results as they happened. Was
Morris-Tailt a victorious warrior – it didn’t appear so. He read the next entry,
dated a short time later.

Sept. 15 – 17th

Mission 231. Delivered Bunker-Buster with
new acid-spreader added to munitions.

Sure, we got some, rest milling around in
distress. They’ve found some SD40’s and are firing back. Luckily none locked
on.

Mission 232 recce for last mission.

Limited success shown in digital vid, some
bodies, macro pics shows their outer shells melted. Good result; we’re all
buoyed up.

Nardin skipped a couple more pages.

Mission 378 Acid-destroyer- plus.

  Could this be our last chance, they’re
all around the base, only the auto artillery keeping them at bay. Fuel for only
one more mission, if we find the head bastard perhaps they’ll lose
co-ordination.

SD40 hit Smithson. Good man, evil luck. 
Mission result inconclusive.

Nardin skipped a page of the same style of
entries and came to a long passage in the same hand, but hesitant and shaky. He
blinked, his eyes were hurting already.

June 30
^th
2046

Lost comms with central command: must have
been overrun. We’re going to break out tonight. Destroyed the last of the F26’s
– No munitions, no fuel, no mission info.

Just heard Washington is swamped by quarter-men
and no transmissions coming from Los Angeles, or Frisco.

God help America.

July 6
^th
2046

We’re told nukes only partially work; apparently
they tried them on the Big Apple. The kill zone gets them; but further out the
radiation just seems to breed more and they pour invigorated from deep rents in
the ground.

July 11
^th

We had a locator transmitter with us and an
AH64 Apache picked us up. Never been so pleased to see a chopper in my life! Apparently
we’re having success with a new acid projectile.
Someone’s distilled a super concentrated corrosive acid and contained it in new
hardened plastic cases ideal for handheld auto weapons. Rumours say there is a
new genetic pathogen bomb being tested. They say it locks onto their DNA and
they die quickly.

General-commander Jadde is fighting back.
She’s flying the last F26 all the time and appearing everywhere, spurring on
the troops.

I’m to be her escort in our only modified
F28. It’s time for payback.

Passionately Nardin read all the entries that
included General-commander Jadde
in the wording.

July 30
^th
2046

The
Tn24DNA
pathogen bombs and artillery
shells are working. Jadde is our country’s savour, she personally flew the last
remaining cargo bird to pick up the first consignment from the boffins at Second-chance
Experimental Station.

August 10
^th
2046

Searching out and targeted more nests. Dropped
all
Tn24DNA.
Complete quarter-men kill – for sure. General-commander Jadde has personally
ensured the research results were broadcast world-wide. No response from Europe,
China, Brazil and India but initial results from Australia are hopeful.

God bless America.

The Goddess’s title lodged in Nardin’s mind;
was it another ancient person taking her name and adding a strange title? ‘’
General-commander
Jadde
was victorious, the quarter-men defeated . . .’’ He leafed through
the pages again, there was a lot more but it was an account of survival after
the victory, and dealt in detail about how the survivors gathered and formed a
community in two mountain resorts.

Could one have been Cyprusnia, but where
was the second?

His eyes blurred and he looked away as Rose
appeared.

He would have to read more back in the library.

‘Nardin, you’re up early.’ Rose floated
over, sleepy eyed and curious. ‘What have you there?’ she inquired.

‘Just a book. A very strange one.’

He slipped it into his habit pocket. It was
time for something to eat and then to continue in the priest’s library. His
familiar surroundings blurred, he had to rest his eyes.

Later that morning he had the diary open as
he sat in one of the hard plastic chairs in the library. He had the strange passage
open in the account, and squinted, willing his eyes to focus as he reread
unbelievable words. It involved the death of General-commander Jadde thirty one
years after the war account.

It was the end of his belief in Jadde as a
Goddess.

Jadde was only human
. Although possibly
the greatest person who had ever lived. Despite his sudden atheistic transition
he read on, fascinated by the power of her will.

General-commander Jadde’s
organisational
powers and sheer dominating authority have pulled the survivors together, and
they have at last prospered. She has saved a war-bird, useless without parts
and fuel (how I wish I could again fly it). I have noticed how the younger
people with no living memory of the struggle look at the dead bird in awe.

Nardin flicked through more praise.

It is the tenth anniversary of her death. My
friends and followers decided to haul the war-bird up the mountain slopes. We
stood it near a mountain tarn as a memorial to our saviour.

He read on, summarising to himself. Morris-Tailt
stated the defunct war-bird was also placed as a warning designed to remind
people of what happened when foolhardy arrogance created the quarter-men. What
a Tarn was, Nardin had no idea. He thought it a place of worship but could not be
sure. Her body had been laid to rest in the tarn with great ceremony. He
imagined a huge ornate tomb on a mountain summit guarded by a large sculptured
bird. The tarn was where she had spent her last days; the mountain views had
given her great peace as she reflected on her life’s work.

Nardin quickly browsed the following pages
where Morris-Tailt concentrated on praising Jadde’s accomplishments. There were
breaks in the accounts where the writer skipped months, then years. The hand
slowly became shaky as Morris-Tailt aged beneath Nardin’s questing eyes. Nardin’s
vision blurred again and he blinked; then shook his head. There was an abrupt
break here. He read the last line again.

Before her death Governess Jadde had set up
a foundation for a new beginning and new skills, the old people never . . .

Nardin tried to focus and for a moment the
page became clear and he held the book close to his nose. Pages had been ripped
out. He read on after the break.

. . . Jadde’s people have now occupied both
villages, the old complex and the higher accommodation blocks that were once a
health spa called Highnirvana. The higher village is dedicated to learning
about the power of the mind through meditation. The old research complex
accommodation is now a thriving farming and hunting community where food is
caught and grown for both townships. Because Governess Jadde had a special
interest in meditation and developing powers of the mind, people have flocked
to the higher community hoping to emulate her. Inspired by her lead, disciples
have achieved mind disciplines of erratic power. Only the most talented are
selected, the others return to the lower community. Jadde would have been
deeply proud of them all.

Nardin realised his Cyprusnia was the
farming and hunting community. The other must be situated much higher in the
mountains at a place named by Jadde as Highnirvana.

Morris-Tailt had concluded his account with
his own epitaph.

And now twenty two years after our saviour
Jadde’s death I have bowel cancer and just the strength left to complete this journal.
I commit this true account of our saviour Jadde to our ancestors to hold for
all time as a warning against the blight of unregulated research and
unregistered genetic experiments. I sincerely hope with all my heart the
mutants never re-emerge to ruin the proper order of our lives. Let this account
be a lesson, and at the same time a story of great courage and devotion to the
human race.