Pandora's Ark (18 page)

Control
was vacating him.

And
he needed to curb this loss, this emptiness.

Stepping
away from the window, the moon traversing overhead at a glacially slow pace,
Cardinal Giuseppe Angullo began to outline a course of action against Bonasero
Vessucci. He would have to be clever and sly. And he would succeed believing
that there was a solution for everything.

Standing
before the bathroom mirror, Angullo studied his reflection.

For
an odd moment words punctuated his thoughts, words he had never considered in
the past or why he thought them. They simply came:
Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe
.

He
examined his features further without emotion or movement. He stood as still as
a Grecian statue, looking with impenetrable onyx eyes that never wavered in
their sockets.

Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe.

Finally,
he traced his fingertips over his image.

Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe.

Yes, Bonasero
, he thought.
There’s a solution
for everything
.

Deep
down he began to feel something very familiar.

Control
was beginning to seep back into his soul, something that was black and twisted,
something very ugly.

In
the mirror his reflection took in a deep breath and exhaled in an equally long
sigh.
Yes, Bonasero, there is a solution for everything.

Behind
him the moon continued to move in its guided path, albeit with the slowness of
a bad dream.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

Mount Damavand. The Alborz Region, The Facility

Leonid Sakharov did little to
acknowledge the techs or Aryeh Levine. Instead, the old man focused more on the
electromechanical components and hardware, showing more adulation toward the
molecular assembler, the infrasonic equipment, probe microscopes and the vacuum
environments created to avoid the scattering of bots. He catered lovingly to the
most advanced Electron Optical System available, rather than the living tissue
that surrounded him. This was his entire world—the world of science. Everything
else was immaterial.  

While Sakharov
seemed oblivious to those around him, he walked with more spring to his gait. And
Levine couldn’t help notice that the old man was sweating profusely while his
hands shook with all the symptoms of a neurological disease. The old man was
drying out, he thought, the spirit of his mind overcoming his constant need for
alcohol.

As the lab techs
worked the consoles imputing data, Levine stood back, arms crossed, watching
the monitors and finding with great fascination the simulations being cast on
the high-definition wall-screen. Chains of molecular nanobots were replicating
and self-sustaining themselves, the program giving them the intelligence to
learn from experience as they evolved, essentially giving them life.

As Levine
watched the chains move in serpentine fashion on the screen, the glass door
opened and al-Ghazi entered the lab with al-Sherrod behind him. Two Quds
soldiers followed in their wake.

Al-Ghazi smiled
when he saw Levine. He was wearing camouflaged attire and a black turban. “How
are you, my friend?”

Levine greeted
him, feigning a smile that looked uniquely genuine. “It’s good to see you. I
had no idea that you were coming.”

“I’m here on a
last minute invitation, Umar. I understand that the good doctor has performed
all that was required of him, and that we are ready to proceed with the testing
on live subjects.”

This was the
first time Levine heard anything about this, al-Sherrod obviously keeping him
in the dark.

“Testing?”

Al-Ghazi sported
his dazzling white teeth in the form of a broader smile. “It appears that the
good Dr. Sakharov is ahead of schedule and is excited to show us his program
regarding the nanobots.”

Levine looked at
the doctor, who was tapping instructions into the keyboard, noting that
Sakharov chose to ignore those in the lab by remaining oblivious and cognizant
of their presence at the same time.

“Doctor.”
Al-Ghazi stepped toward the scientists with his hands clasped behind the small
of his back. “This must be an exciting moment for you, yes?”

The doctor gave
a cursory nod, nothing else, not even a flicker of emotion.

“Then let’s get
started, shall we?”

One of the two
techs went into one of the vacuum environments, a glassed-in room, with a
canister the size of a liter bottle. It was cylindrical, the container metallic
with a mirror polish. On top was a screen cap, an opening. He placed it
gingerly on the table and left the room as the second tech brought a goat into
the chamber tethered to a leash, the animal bleating. While removing the tie
from the goat’s collar, the first tech returned with a cluster of indigent
plants and placed them on the table beyond the goat’s reach. Once done they
exited the room, the door closing behind them with the subsequent whisper of
the seal tightening that made the room inescapable for anything living—including
a single cell, virus, bacteria or nanobot. 

“The canister,
Doctor, will be larger for our purposes when the time comes, yes?”

“No,” he
answered crustily. “The nanobots have been programmed to reproduce
exponentially. But every succeeding life will have a half-time, which means
that they will eventually shrink themselves to a time limit where they can do
no harm. For the purposes of this experiment the bots have been given a primary
lifespan of one minute, its replicated life form will be half that, thirty
seconds; the third chain, fifteen seconds; and so forth until their span
shrinks down to a point where they don’t exist long enough to do further
damage. They will always exist since a trillionth of a trillionth of a
nanosecond is still a measure of time, but too little to cause destruction. It’s
a safety measure to keep the nanobots from creating Drexler’s theory of grey goo.”

“Grey goo?”

Sakharov ignored
him. 

And then: “But is one canister
enough for our needs?”

“More than
enough,” he answered. “In that one canister is a nano swarm that will act as a
whole that can wipe out an entire city. So that you know, you can fit one
hundred thousand nanobots on the head of a pin. It’s more than enough.”

Al-Ghazi gave
off an expression denoting that he was impressed. “I see.”

Levine took everything
in. His curiosity piqued.

“And what about
the plants, Doctor? What’s their function?”

Sakharov set up
the monitor for the final click of the button. “The bots have been programmed
to attack organic matter, things that are alive or at one time were alive. Everything
else—glass, metal, plastic—should remain unaffected.”

“I see. But why
isn’t anything happening? I see that the container has a screen top. I assume
it’s open.”

“It is.”

“Then why is
nothing happening?”

“Because,” he
let his finger hover over a button on the keyboard, “the nanobots are
stimulated through sound waves. Once they are, then their programming kicks in
and they take on a life of their own, doing what I programmed them to do: To
evolve and to learn by experience.”

“Life,” he said.

Sakharov nodded.
“I’m creating life.”

After a moment
of silence, as the doctor held a wavering finger above the keyboard, everyone
waited with childlike anticipation.

And then the
finger dropped, a single button pushed, the program initiating.

The goat bleated
without care or caution, pacing the glass enclosure.

And then a waspy
hum sounded over the speakers, growing in sound.

“It’s
activating,” commented Sakharov.

Within thirty
seconds the goat began to shake its head wildly, as if buzzing flies were
annoying it. Its bleating becoming more agitated, more terror-stricken. And
then its coat began to ripple as if something alive was undulating beneath its
skin, rolling. The creature then raised its head and wobbled upon weak legs as
sores opened and pared back from its joints, exposing blood-laced bones. Its
eyes bulged in terror, but only for a moment as they dissolved within their
sockets, decaying. The meat of its tongue was now gone. Its flesh, disappearing.
And within seconds its hide became a wild tangle of hair that appeared to move as
the bots broke down every inch of the animal down to nonexistence.

On the table the
plants were decaying just as quickly, the organic material breaking down like a
film in fast motion, until nothing was left.

And then they waited,
the glass holding, the buzzing sounding over the loud speakers in a raucous
din.

But within five
minutes the drone of the bots was gone, their lifespan shrinking to the point
where they could no longer be effective.

Al-Ghazi smiled
and clapped a hand on Sakharov’s shoulder, causing the old man to finally bring
a smile to his own lips. He had achieved his goal, he thought. He had done what
Mother Russia refused to give him credit for—the ability to achieve where
others had failed.

“My good Doctor,
you truly have an amazing mind.”

“I know.”

Levine, however,
was beside himself. Here was a technology far more devastating than any nuclear
device, a weapon that could be programmed to kill without impunity or
conscience—entire cities, towns and populations gone without damage to the
surrounding infrastructure. No doubt Israel was on that list.

“Ahmadinejad
will be most pleased,” stated al-Sherrod. “Since sanctions have made Iran the largest leper colony in the world, this will provide the means of leverage should Israel decide to bomb our nuclear facilities. Its allies will also fall under Allah’s wrath—city
by city, infidel by infidel.”

Levine’s fate
was now clearly stated: He had no choice but to put himself in position to
contact his sources. Not trying to tip off his thoughts, he nevertheless gave a
cursory glance to the Comm Center on the second level and noted the wall
monitors through the smoke-stained glass. He would have to be swift and
efficient. First he would have to take out the two Quds soldiers that
constantly shadowed him, no easy feat, then work his way to the center and send
his coordinates for a military strike.

He then closed
his eyes, a thought forming. He had lived a good life, an exciting life. But he
saw no way to survive this mission but by the grace of God. He would, at least,
try to escape through the mountains, finding avenues to the north. But the cold
of the mountains were brutal, the attempt unrealistic, if not suicidal. But it
was the only course of action available.

Al-Sherrod
maintained his smile. “Then we are ready to move forward?” he asked al-Ghazi.

Al-Ghazi nodded,
and then he turned to Levine. “Umar, I understand that you have seen the Ark.”

“I have.”

“Then your role
has become much larger.”

“How so?”

“The Ark will possess the good doctor’s discoveries. I will need you to introduce the Ark as a faith of good will to the Zionists of Israel, the Catholics, and the Muslims. Iran cannot take an active role in this because they will be targeted should it be
discovered that they had an active role in promoting the good doctor’s
creations. You will act as an emissary on behalf of our organization to promote
a false image of good intentions. We would like a gathering of all heads of
state, as well as the heads of religion denominations, to attend the opening of
the Ark for the possessions within to be shared by all, since all have an
interest of what’s within the Ark. Mossad already possesses the staff of Aaron and
the golden pot of manna, as proof that the true Ark exists. However, we still
possess the tablets containing the Ten Commandments. Such an opening of good
will should be shared by all. But when they open the Ark, they will be greeted
by the demons of Dr. Sakharov’s making.”

Sakharov
clenched his jaw, causing the wiry muscles to work.

“But the
Muslims?”

“Collateral
damage,” he said with indifference. “Since Solomon was selected to maintain the
Ark, then it is believed that Allah favored him. Therefore, Muslims must be
present so as not to draw suspicion as to the Ark’s true intention.”

“And my
position?”

“You will negotiate
the trade of the Ark for the good of all religions when, in fact, the opening
of the Ark is to happen at a place of my choosing, my Ground Zero. A team of
onsite operatives will coordinate the attack by initiating the program at the
location. Laptops and experience will be necessary. Of course their deaths with
be martyred.”

“And what will
your role be in all this?”

“My position
will be minimal, since it is my continuing duty to direct cells to perform
certain missions throughout the regions. Therefore, I must remain covert. Iran, however, will deny culpability in this matter to keep sanctions from crippling them
further. It is our intention to test this technology before we take it one step
further.”

“And that would
be?”

Al-Ghazi nodded.
“Should the doctor’s finding prove as fruitful as to the events we have just seen,
then we will place a canister in every major city in Israel, the United States, the United Kingdom, and to anyone who does not relinquish to our rule.
Sanctions will and must be lifted from Iran. The infidels will give in to our
demands. If not . . .” He let his words trail.

“And where will Ground
Zero be for the initial run?”

Al-Ghazi’s smile
lifted into a sardonic grin. “In a most appropriate place,” he told him. “We
will open the Ark in the heart of Vatican City.”