Origin - Season Two (39 page)

The other decision made that day was going to be harder to implement. It was for that very purpose that Francis, Titov and Mitch had come to Richelle’s office and were now standing three abreast in front of her desk.

“You won’t regret it,” Mitch said. “I’ll stake my life on it.”

Richelle looked at the helmet Francis was holding out to her, but made no move to take it.

“He’s right,” Titov said.

“What do you say?” Francis said. “We’ve all tried it.”

“That’s what worries me,” Richelle said. “You’ve all tried it, and now you’re itching to get anyone who will listen to do the same. It’s like you’ve all found religion.”

“It’s not like that,” Francis said.

“No?” Richelle said. “Then what’s it like?”

“I can’t describe it,” Francis said. “It’s like leaving your own body and occupying another one. Not just partly, but completely. Your sight, hearing, nerves, everything.”

“That’s not a very convincing argument,” Richelle said. “Do you even have any idea how it works?”

Mitch took the helmet from Francis and held it up. “It’s a bypass system. I mean, we have no idea how the actual technology works, but it obviously taps into the control and sensory channels in the brain and diverts them somehow.”

“Sorry,” Richelle said, “But that sounds even less appealing.”

“If you try it I’ll jump off the pier,” Mitch said.

Titov and Francis both looked at him.

“What?” Mitch said. “It’s called incentivizing.”

“Go on,” Richelle said.

“Naked,” Mitch said.

“You’ll jump off the pier?” Richelle said. “Naked?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Mitch said.

Before Richelle could reply, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Richelle said.

It was Erik.

“What’s up?” Richelle said.

“I’ve got Jasper here,” Erik announced. “You said you wanted to see him?”

“Bring him in,” Richelle said.

“My, my,” Titov said, “he lives.”

If Jasper was having trouble coming to terms with his new situation, he hid it well. In fact, he seemed far more curious about Richelle’s office than what he was doing there. They all watched him in amused silence as he ran his eyes from floor to ceiling and back again.

“Mr. Klein,” Richelle said. “Is everything okay?”

Without taking his eyes off the wall, Jasper said, “This is absolutely amazing. How are you keeping the moisture levels down in here?”

“I don’t know,” Richelle said. “How
are
we doing that, Erik?”

They all turned to Erik, Jasper included.

“We have two Rotan industrial convector units built into the climate control system,” Erik said.

“Sounds good to me,” Richelle said. “Does that answer your question?”

“Incredible,” Jasper said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. At least not on this scale.”

“Well we’re glad you approve,” Richelle said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to accompany Mitch here to our—our
other
facility.”

“Is it subterranean?” Jasper asked.

“No,” Richelle said. “But it
is
important. You’ll have plenty of time to look around when you get back. In fact, you’ll probably get sick of it before long.”

“I doubt that,” Jasper said.

Judging by the looks on their faces, so did everyone else.

Before Mitch could protest, Richelle said, “Looks like we’ll have to put the dare on hold. I’ll be keeping you to it, though.”

Mitch left with Erik and Jasper. When they were gone, Titov laughed. “Jasper’s crazier than a shithouse rat.”

“He’s a geological engineer,” Francis said. “He probably thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Either that or he’s in denial.”

“Well, he’s here,” Richelle said. “That’s the main thing.”

“So you’re serious about trying Odin?” Francis said.

Richelle picked up the helmet and said, “Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Francis said.

“It was never in question,” Richelle said. “And if either of you tell Mitch, I’m going to cut your balls off. I plan on pushing that little shit off the pier myself.”

Nampo, North Korea

Tuesday 26 June 2007

0600 KST

The scene resembled a military parade in miniature. Lined up at attention in eight columns of ten stood General Rhee’s best and last hope for the future of the Korean People’s Republic, at least the version of it he was now imagining.

The Red Company, as it was known, was the elite formation of Marshal Hwang’s internal security battalion: eighty men, all young, all single, all highly trained, and all fanatical in their devotion to the state and its dear leader. They were also the designated spearhead for the operational phase of Project 38.

Conceived by Pok almost five decades earlier, Red Storm, as it had been known then, had called for six tunnels in all, stretching across the border at half mile intervals. On the day of reckoning these would provide passage for almost twenty thousand men, the bulk of whom would move south, while a smaller contingent attacked the border from behind, opening the way for the waiting armored formations. By the time the Chinese became aware of the plans, the entire concept was obsolete in all but name. Its replacement, named Project 38, was the brainchild of a small group of planners inside Duan’s intelligence directorate, who had discarded everything but the tunnel at the Jangdan-myeon mine, which would now be routed directly into the newly-built subway system on the outskirts of Seoul. Hwang’s Red Company had been created for this purpose.

On this new day of reckoning the company would move into the subway system, the target location now under renovation by a Chinese contractor, and split up into six platoons, each in possession of one of the warheads. More a terrorist operation than a military one, each bomb would be located at a strategic site for maximum effect, essentially shutting down the capital. At this point the Chinese would enter the picture, offering to negotiate a settlement with the South in which all American forces would be removed from the peninsula in exchange for a permanent Chinese military presence on the border. Had this idea been a mere creation of the Chinese themselves, it might rightly have been considered madness, but it was not. This aspect of the plan had been the contribution of an entity with much longer reach and far deeper insights than the men in Beijing, an entity whose emissary was known to them only as Iris, and Iris had assured them than when the time came, the Americans would cooperate.

Rhee knew only some of this, not that it mattered now. To Rhee, Project 38 no longer existed. Hwang had given him the Red Battalion, the Chinese had given him the warheads, and his plan for both had nothing to do with the South.

“Soldiers of the Red Company,” Rhee proclaimed. “This is a great day. For many years now we have been forced to toil under the Chinese menace, who have betrayed our dear leader and sought to crush our people. No more. Today we stand up and reclaim what is ours. We have been given a great honor. A chance to prove our loyalty to the dear leader and the memory of his father. I urge you to repay his trust with your undying devotion. Death to the Chinese invader!”

At this the soldiers raised their right arms in a fist and repeated the call. “Death to the Chinese invader!”

They would probably have kept up the chant until they lost their voices had Rhee not turned to the major in command of the battalion and ordered him to assemble his platoon commanders and meet him in the administration building.

When the major arrived with three of his lieutenants, Rhee was in a jubilant mood.

“The Xilin Gol arrives in less than twenty-four hours,” Rhee said, pointing at the map. “She will dock here next to these silos. It will take several hours to unload the cement, then she will head straight back to Shanghai.”

“Do we have plans of the ship, sir?” the major asked.

“You will have them by this afternoon,” Rhee said.

“Do we know how many crew are on board, sir?”

“No more than twenty,” Rhee said. “Perhaps less. The only military personnel will be the political officer and possibly a few guards. I propose you board her with as few men as possible at first. The key will be securing their communications before anyone can report the situation.”

“Lieutenant Park,” the major said. “Your platoon will lead the boarding party. First platoon will secure the perimeter, while Third moves the cargo and supplies into position.”

The commanders acknowledged their orders with a silent nod. Rhee couldn’t help but marvel at the difference between these men and their conscript counterparts in the general army. It was like watching a scene from an American war movie, of which Rhee had a plentiful collection hidden away in the safe of his Pyongyang apartment.

“If there is nothing else, sir,” the major said, “we will begin our preparations right away.”

“Of course,” Rhee said. “You may go.”

When they were gone Rhee walked to the map on the wall. He brushed all the pins off with a sweep of his hand, then picked one up and stuck it back with deliberate force over the port of Shanghai.

The Pandora

Tuesday 26 June 2007

0130 EEST

Francis’s suggestion that Jasper’s fascination with the engineering feats of Aurora might just have been a sign of denial turned out to be eerily prescient. His reaction to RP One was similar, only this time there was no distraction available. He stood looking at the bizarre doughnut-shaped alien craft as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. A school bus, perhaps, or a water fountain.

“So?” Mitch said. “What do you think?”

“It’s an interesting idea,” Jasper said, as if RP One was something Mitch had just described to him rather than a reality standing only a few yards away.

“Okay,” Mitch said. “Would you like to have a look around?”

“Sure,” Jasper said.

But instead of walking into the hangar Jasper turned around and headed back the way they had come.

“It’s this way,” Mitch said.

“I don’t feel well,” Jasper said. “I need to get some fresh air. I think I’m going to—”

Jasper put his hand over his mouth and dry-heaved several times. Mitch was about to suggest they go back to the bridge when Naoko ran through the door.

“There you are,” Naoko said. “You need to get in here.”

Mitch looked from Naoko to Jasper and said, “All right, get him topside. I think he’s gonna hurl. Hurry back down.”

When Mitch stepped onto the bridge Heinz and Watkins were already in the early stages of panic.

“What’s going on?” Mitch said.

“We don’t know,” Heinz said. “But it can’t be good.”

On the viewport, people were scurrying back and forth between the warehouse and several trucks parked outside. In the red tint of the radiation filter, the men were hard to make out. The bomb was not. It had been moved from the back of the warehouse to the foot of the entrance.

“Switch to thermal,” Mitch said.

Watkins fumbled with the control in the commander’s seat for a moment, then got up and stepped away. “You better take over.”

Mitch did and switched the view with two quick taps of his thumb. The dots were suddenly replaced by the sight of at least two dozen soldiers. Half of them had formed a chain gang and were moving boxes from the warehouse into the back of one of the trucks.

“You’re right,” Mitch said. “This isn’t good. Has anyone called the others?”

“They’re on their way,” Heinz said.

“Where the hell did all these people come from?” Mitch demanded.

“They arrived about six hours ago,” Heinz replied. “Eight trucks entered the compound and drove straight into this warehouse here. We thought it was just more cargo at first, then two of them drove back out and they’ve been loading them up ever since.”

“And the bomb?” Mitch continued.

“They just moved it,” Watkins said. “We sent Naoko to find you as soon as we saw what was going on.”

“Well, it looks like the waiting’s over,” Mitch said.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Heinz asked.

“I have no idea,” Mitch said. “If I had to guess I’d say they were moving it to the mine. We need to get Jasper down here.”

Naoko returned a moment later. He took a moment to get his breath back and announced, “That guy’s flipped a switch.”

“He’s just in denial,” Mitch said. “It’s quite common among people who’ve lost a loved one.”

“He’s lost a lot more than that,” Naoko told him.

“Well he’s going to have to snap out of it soon,” Mitch replied. “I’m starting to think he may be the missing piece in this puzzle.”

“Speak of the devil,” Watkins said.

Francis and Titov were standing at the top of the gangway. Between them, looking more disoriented than insane, was Jasper. He was rubbing the side of his face where a large red mark was now forming. Richelle appeared behind them a moment later.

“Is he okay?” Naoko said.

“He’ll be fine,” Francis said.

“I ran into a wall,” Jasper said, looking self-consciously around. “At least I think I did.”

“Well, that was convenient,” Watkins said. He was eyeing Titov and Francis with clear disapproval.

“Nothing like a good head-on collision to clear the cobwebs in the attic,” Titov said, slapping Jasper on the back. “So, what’s going on?”

Mitch summed up the situation and pointed at the screen. “As for what it all means, your guess is as good as mine.”

“Show Jasper the mine,” Francis said.

Mitch brought up the valley on the screen and said, “Feast your eyes, Doc.”

Jasper stood looking at the site for a long time. Just as everyone thought he might have relapsed, he said, “Do you have any idea what they’re using to bore the tunnel?”

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Mitch said.

He climbed down from the seat and opened the laptop. For the next fifteen minutes everyone was reduced to the role of onlooker as Jasper moved between the screen and the information Mitch had collected. Mitch returned to his seat and began shifting the view as Jasper dictated, first in, then out, and back in again somewhere else. When he appeared satisfied, Jasper sat down at the laptop and began looking through figures on various websites none of them had ever heard of. Perhaps even more remarkable than his sudden recovery was the way Jasper seemed to take the system and everything it was capable of for granted. It was as if his incredulity had transformed into an uncritical acceptance of everything around him in the blink of an eye. When he finally looked up to deliver his verdict, everyone on the bridge was staring at him.