Authors: J.T. Brannan
Eldridge noticed her interest and smiled. ‘Want to see the collider, eh?’ he asked. When Lynn just ignored him, he continued anyway. ‘Not on the agenda for today I’m afraid, Dr Edwards. But what you’re about to see is a lot more special, believe me.’
And although she hated the man next to her, Lynn suspected that in this case he might just be right.
They found the elevator at the end of the left-hand corridor and went straight in. Eldridge pushed the button for the LHC level, one hundred metres below the surface. Once the elevator had stopped, Eldridge removed a key card and entered it into a concealed slot, and the elevator started moving again, further into the bowels of the earth, and Lynn was instantly reminded of her similar subterranean trip back at Area 51.
Another minute later, surely another hundred metres below the tunnels of the LHC, the elevator eventually came to its final stop.
The door slid open to reveal an enormous, luxurious conference room. It was filled with people, well over a hundred, and as Lynn examined the faces, she was sure she recognized many of them.
There was Scott Keating, the famous Hollywood movie star; Roman Parlotti, the notorious Italian media magnate; Kristina Nyetts, the director of the world’s largest pharmaceutical company; Tony Kern, the special aide to the US President himself; and many more besides. So here they were, the Bilderberg Hundred, in addition to the men of the Alpha Brigade. The most powerful people in the world, all joined together in the hope of becoming more powerful still, no matter what it took.
And then her eyes wandered to the corner, and she saw Samuel Atkinson, the Director General of NASA, sipping casually from a champagne flute and chatting animatedly to Stephen Jacobs, the architect of this entire insane project.
Seeing her old boss, someone she had trusted and who had betrayed both her and her entire team, chatting to Jacobs as if he had not a care in the world, destroyed what little composure she had left.
‘Son of a bitch!’ she screamed at the top of her voice, and the room went deathly quiet as she launched herself across the room at the two men.
She was yanked backwards painfully by Eldridge who gave a sharp tug on the handcuff that still joined them. She tried to go again but Eldridge moved in and grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.
Atkinson looked at her, then down at the floor as recognition dawned. Jacobs felt no such guilt, though, and smiled across the room at her.
‘Ah, Dr Edwards,’ he said charmingly, ‘how good of you to join us. And as luck would have it, you’re just in time.’
S
INCE THE ROOM
was already quiet, Jacobs went on to address the assembled visitors.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, our mission here is an extraordinary one,’ he intoned, two lifetimes of public speaking ensuring he commanded everyone’s attention, ‘and we are extraordinary people. The road has been long and hard, consisting of twelve years of selection for our little group, and nearly seventy since contact was first made. Since then, we have used our influence around the globe to bring the whole world under our control. For we all know that it is not politicians who wield the power.
‘How long can a president stay in power, after all? In the United States, a maximum of eight years. You can stay in control of a company for
eighty
years, and the money wielded by congressional advocates on behalf of those companies ensures more political clout than any ten presidents combined. Actors, singers, writers, they change and influence the culture around us to a much greater extent than politicians can, or ever could, and yet they are not accountable to anyone.
‘What we have, gathered here today, are the one hundred most influential people in the world, people who have made the world what it is today. We have achieved this by all manner of manipulation, by corruption and, yes, sometimes through violence, but achieve it we have. As such, we are indispensable to the coming Anunnaki. We control the world as it is, so who else would they allow to survive? They
need
us, let us never forget that.
‘And we will soon have our reward. We will rule the world openly, and live in unimaginable luxury and comfort for the next thousand years. The world as we know it will be at an end, of course, but is this so regrettable? Humanity needs purging, we have grown too weak and need a re-injection of suffering in order to propel us to new achievements. And so I welcome our visitors, the Anunnaki, who, let us not forget, are our own ancestors, the original human race.
‘So without further ado,’ Jacobs concluded, gesturing to a set of gilded double doors behind him, ‘let us see for the first time what our efforts over the years have helped to fund and create.’
The crowd surged towards the oversized doors, which were ceremonially opened by two uniformed guards.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you the world’s first controllable cosmic wormhole.’
Lynn felt Eldridge pull her through the doors into the chamber beyond, but pulling her was no longer necessary; she
wanted
to see it.
Lynn gasped as she passed through the doors.
This was the kind of hi-tech facility that people would probably have expected to find upstairs. The room was large, dozens of immaculately presented white-suited technicians scurrying from one bank of monitors to another. The room was a hive of activity, and yet it was so perfectly clinical, Lynn couldn’t help but be impressed.
And what was even more impressive – although more ominous, given its purpose – was the fact that CERN employed several thousand scientists and support staff, and yet almost nobody knew this place even existed.
The other half of the room was some sort of observation gallery which stretched for two hundred feet to either side of the doors. Ahead of them was a huge perspex window, with luxurious leather-upholstered benches lining the gallery from one end to the other.
Lynn tried to see through the long window, but whatever was on the other side was shrouded in darkness.
Despite the situation, and despite what the device was intended for, she was still curious about it. A real, operational wormhole? What on earth would such a thing look like? Even with her own high level of scientific knowledge, she could not imagine.
As the gathered members of the Bilderberg Group took their seats, Professor Messier strolled to the front, smiling broadly.
‘My friends,’ he said, clapping his hands together in delight, ‘first of all let me say thank you. Thank you for helping to fund this project. Since CERN’s first days in nineteen fifty-four, the creation of what you are about to see has consumed the modern equivalent of six
trillion
US dollars, most of which has come from Bilderberg Group members like yourselves. Stephen has spoken of the importance of the project already, and I do not wish to labour the point. I will just show you instead.’
Messier nodded his head to one side, and all of a sudden the chamber beyond the huge viewing window was cast into bright illumination.
He was pleased with the looks of amazement on the faces in front of him.
Lynn, too, was astonished by what she saw. She had imagined something like the Large Hadron Collider itself, a gigantic piece of machinery, something that shouted ‘high-tech, super-advanced physics’. But here there was only a massive, colossal underground canyon; a truly gigantic pit dug deep into the earth, walls of bedrock stretching up and around as far as the eye could see.
‘What is this?’ she heard one member of the Hundred exclaim, confused.
Messier held up a hand. ‘I know, I know,’ he said. ‘It’s not what you were expecting, eh? Well, don’t worry, there are plenty of exciting metallic bits and pieces dotted around that cavern, all designed to focus energy to the centre. But think about it logically. We are bringing back an entire people, approximately twelve
thousand
of them. In deep space, the wormhole device they have created is outside their own starship, and their entire starship will be going through it and returning here. And remember, if you will, that their spacecraft is Atlantis itself, regarded as an entire city-state when last it was on earth, which should give you some indication of its size.
‘In fact, the craft is so big that it will literally fill that vast cavern completely. It will be an incredible sight to behold,’ Messier said, his eyes shining. ‘We will witness the return of Atlantis, the return of an ancient pre-historic civilization, the return of humanity’s
gods
, and the return of our direct biological ancestors, all at once.’ He looked down at his watch. ‘And it will all happen within the next hour.’
A
DAMS DROVE HIS
car down the streets of Maisonnex Dessus until he eventually reached the main gate of CERN.
The guardhouse wasn’t much, but the sentry got on the phone as soon as he saw the car, doubtless calling Eldridge or another of his Alpha Brigade goons. But Adams didn’t care; getting picked up by the brigade was part of his plan.
As he halted at the gate, the sentry got out of the shack and approached him warily. ‘If you wait there, sir,’ he said nervously, ‘someone will be right with you.’
Adams just nodded his head and waited.
Sure enough, within minutes his vehicle was surrounded by a dozen armed men, all screaming at him to get out of the car with his hands where they could see them.
Adams complied, got out of the car and rested both hands on the car roof, even though it caused tremendous pain in his arm.
Two of the men searched him thoroughly, then spun him back round, pushing him against the car. Backing away, they raised their rifles, ready to execute him on the spot.
And then Commander Eldridge was there, Sig Sauer pistol in one beefy hand.
‘Mr Adams,’ he said graciously. ‘We meet again. Although I’m afraid this time I’ll have to make it quick, we’ve got to get back in time for the show.’ He smiled and raised the handgun.
Adams stared down the end of the large barrel. ‘Wait!’ he shouted, and the urgency in his voice caused Eldridge to hesitate for a moment. ‘I have information about the Anunnaki.’
Eldridge scoffed. ‘What could you possibly know about them that we don’t?’
‘Something Travers told me back at Area 51, something that might be useful to Jacobs. All I want to know is if Lynn is alive. If she is, then release her and I’ll tell Jacobs everything. If she’s not, then you might as well shoot me now.’
Adams watched Eldridge’s face, and knew the man was weighing his options. Suddenly, he flipped open a phone and dialled a number. He quickly relayed what Adams had told him, listened, and then turned back to Adams. ‘He’s not interested.’
‘Tell him it’s about where they come from. Originally, I mean. I don’t think Jacobs knows, does he?’
Adams remembered Travers’ history lesson, and clearly recalled him saying that advanced humans arose on the earth many thousands of years ago, but nobody – apparently not even the Anunnaki themselves – knew how this had happened.
Eldridge scowled but relayed the message to Jacobs. He then waited – for what seemed to Adams an inordinately long time – for a reply. Eventually, he gave a confirmatory ‘Yes, sir,’ and ended the call. He turned to his men. ‘Did you search him?’ Two of his men told him that they had performed a thorough search, and Eldridge turned back to Adams, looking him up and down with suspicion. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘search him again. He’s going inside.’
Jacobs had no idea what information Adams might have, if any. He realized that it was probably just a ruse to get inside, but there was an outside chance that Travers had told him something; the professor had spent more time in contact with the Anunnaki than even he himself had.
He also knew that, despite his confidence with his guests, their position wasn’t as secure as he made out; the Anunnaki were far more powerful than they were, and there were no guarantees that things would be as promised. As such, any scrap of information that might be of use to him in his dealings with these ancient humans would be worth having. Knowledge of their origins, for instance, might be of great value.
And so he left the viewing gallery and went back inside the conference room, where he took a seat and waited for the arrival of Matthew Adams.
A
DAMS WAS PUSHED
into the room minutes later, forced to sit in a chair directly opposite Jacobs.
Jacobs smiled warmly at him. ‘We really must stop meeting like this,’ he said. ‘But I’m afraid there’s no time for pleasantries, so we’ll get straight to it. What is the information you have?’
‘Is Lynn still alive?’
‘Yes,’ Jacobs answered simply. ‘We thought it best to keep her alive as collateral in case you decided to come here. Now what is the information? Where did the Anunnaki come from?’
‘Not until I see her,’ Adams responded.
Jacobs nodded to Eldridge, who grabbed Adams’ head and slammed it into the glass conference table, before pushing him back in his seat, blood leaking from his nose.
Adams just held Jacobs’ gaze, silent.
Jacobs watched Adams for several moments, searching for any sign of weakness, but found none.
Finally he tutted to himself and gestured to Eldridge. ‘Go and get Dr Edwards, please,’ he said in resignation.
Philippe Messier had retired to the control room to oversee the operation of the wormhole, but his voice could still be heard on the speakers dotted throughout the viewing gallery.
‘The energy that will be generated in the chamber will be enormous,’ he explained over the PA system. ‘The viewing glass in front of you is ten inches thick. Without it, and without the protective bedrock surrounding the cavern, this whole level would be destroyed when the wormhole becomes active. But don’t worry.’ He chuckled. ‘You’ll be fine right where you are. It has all been modelled and tested a thousand times before.’
In her seat, Lynn laughed to herself. Tested before? Maybe by a computer, but for real? It was hard to make predictions about a technology that had never been used before.
‘We are now about to start our lead-up procedure,’ Messier explained. ‘You will now see some of the power that we are able to generate by harnessing the antimatter produced by the LHC above us.’