Temple of the Gods (35 page)

That turned out to be the case. After several minutes, they heard another approaching chopper: not the Black Hawk that had attacked them, but a much smaller OH-6 Cayuse scout helicopter. It passed over the bowl, then moved to land near the abandoned tank.

Another few minutes passed, then a man appeared at the crest of the rise. ‘Dr Wilde! Mr Chase!’

Eddie leaned out, regarding the new arrival cautiously. He was an air force colonel, carrying something in one hand: a satellite phone. ‘Yeah? What’s up?’

‘Can I come down to you?’

Nina and Eddie traded bewildered glances. ‘Sure, why not?’ Nina called out.

The colonel picked his way down the slope, almost slipping on some loose gravel at its foot, but managing to retain his footing and dignity as he reached them. It was clear from his disgusted expression that he didn’t want to be dealing with them at all, but was obeying orders from above. He held out the phone. ‘I’ve been told to give you this.’

Still confused, Nina accepted it. She held it to her ear, tilting it so Eddie could listen in. ‘Hello?’

‘Dr Wilde, hello,’ said an unfamiliar voice. The accent was American, a refined New England baritone.

‘Who is this?’

‘You don’t know me – at least, not yet. But I think you’re aware of the organisation I represent. I’m the chairman of the Group.’

Nina couldn’t help but be suspicious. ‘So . . . what do you want?’

‘I want to talk to you. Both of you, in person. Since I’ve just saved your lives, I hope you’ll show your gratitude by agreeing to meet me.’

U
nder the angry eyes of the troops from Silent Peak, Nina and Eddie were led to the helicopter, which flew them to Nellis Air Force Base northeast of Las Vegas. A jet waited for them, larger than the Lear; a C-37A, the US military’s version of the Gulfstream V business aircraft, luxuriously appointed as a VIP transport. They were accompanied by two air force officers, who like the colonel appeared displeased to have been assigned this particular escort duty. Once in flight, they sat at the cabin’s far end, occasionally shooting dirty glances towards the couple.

Since there was nothing else that could be done, Eddie chose to stretch out in a reclining seat and doze through the eastward flight. Nina regarded him jealously. She was too concerned for her racing mind to allow her to rest. What she had heard about the Group was apparently true; if they had enough influence to intervene in the internal security of the US military – quickly enough to halt an ongoing search-and-destroy operation – then they must have direct access to the very highest levels of the American government.

And they had used that power to save her and Eddie’s lives. She was grateful for that . . . but what price would be asked in return?

By the time the plane landed, night had fallen over the eastern seaboard. The two officers took them down the steps to the runway, where a limousine waited. Eddie peered inside. A man in a dark suit gestured for him to enter. ‘Come on in, Mr Chase,’ said the stranger. ‘Sit down. You too, Dr Wilde. I won’t bite.’

‘I might,’ Eddie muttered, climbing in to sit facing him. Nina hesitantly took a place beside her husband.

The man in the back seat was in his sixties, tall and broad-shouldered in a way that suggested he had been an athlete in his youth. Despite his age, he was obviously still strong and in excellent health. His grey hair was slicked back from his prominent forehead, a pair of rectangular spectacles giving him a stern, patrician air. He had a downturned mouth that didn’t seem accustomed to smiling. ‘Welcome to Washington,’ he said. ‘I’m glad to see you both alive and well.’

‘I’d be gladder if I knew what the hell was going on,’ said Eddie.

‘Well, that’s what I’m going to tell you.’ He pushed a button to speak to the driver. ‘Let’s go.’ The limo set off, the Gulfstream retreating beyond the darkened rear window.

‘Okay,’ said Nina, ‘my first question is: who are you?’

‘My name is Travis Warden. You may have heard of me, or you may not. It depends how closely you read the financial pages.’

‘They’re not really my thing,’ she admitted.

‘That’s true for most people. Which is why the histrionics aimed at the financial world over the past few years are ironic at best, and hypocritical at worst. Anyone taking the time and effort to analyse the data that was freely available would have seen that the boom before the economic crash was unsustainable. But –’ he shrugged – ‘nobody wants to believe that the good times will ever stop rolling, so they fail to plan for the inevitable.’ He gave his passengers a meaningful look. ‘Well, almost nobody.’

‘You
did
make plans,’ said Eddie.

‘We did. By “we”, I mean the Group. It’s our business to plan for the future. Not just for the next year, or the next electoral cycle. We plan for
decades
ahead, generations.’

‘That seems a bit presumptuous,’ Nina said.

‘Only those who prepare for the future deserve a hand in shaping it.’

‘So the Group is a collection of merchant bankers?’ she asked. Eddie couldn’t suppress a smirk. ‘What?’

‘That’s Cockney rhyming slang,’ he told her. ‘For wan—’

‘Yes,
thank
you for that, honey.’

A small tic under Warden’s right eye betrayed his impatience. ‘Some of the Group’s members are bankers, yes. But I’m more of . . . an investor, you could say. An investor in the future. I put capital where it’s needed to ensure that the Group’s long-term goals happen. Not just here in the United States, but all over the world. The Group is an international organisation with one ultimate goal: global order.’

‘So you’re like the Bilderberg group?’

A dismissive snort. ‘The Bilderberg members just talk. We
act
.’ The limo paused at the airport’s outer gate for the barrier to be raised, then turned on to a road and headed for the distant lights of Washington. ‘We want to end human conflict.’

‘That’s kind of a grand plan,’ said Nina, deliberately challenging. ‘Everyone from Alexander the Great through Genghis Khan up to Hitler has had their own ideas on how to do it. And they’ve all failed. What makes yours any different?’

His answer shocked her. ‘You, Dr Wilde. You make our plan different. You make it
possible
.’

‘This is all coming back to those bloody statues, isn’t it?’ Eddie rumbled.

Warden ignored him, fixing his stern blue eyes on Nina. ‘Competition over resources is the cause of most conflict in the world. Specifically, energy resources. Wars are fought, lives destroyed, tyrants propped up just so that we can literally burn a mineral sludge – and the system of global politics and economics has become so warped by this fact that it’s now dependent on it. Governments can’t imagine things being any other way . . . but just as the recent economic crash was bound to happen, a total collapse is inevitable if things continue as they are.’

‘I know we have booms and busts,’ said Nina, ‘but a complete collapse? Really?’

Warden’s tone became more lecturing. ‘All the economic models that shape the world are based on the conceit that growth can be –
must
be – infinite. A child could point out the flaw in that idea, since we live in a finite world, but just as nobody wanted to believe that the debt bubble would burst while they were living the high life on the back of it, so no one wants to play the role of Cassandra now.’

‘Not even the Group? You seem to have a lot of influence, to put it mildly.’

‘We do, but not even we’re powerful enough to overturn the system. Until now, the most we’ve been able to do is guide it.’

‘Until now,’ Nina echoed. ‘By which you mean, you’ve got me.’

‘You make it sound as though you’re my prisoner,’ Warden said. The downturned corners of his mouth strained slightly upwards, which seemed to be as close as he ever came to an actual smile. ‘If you want to get out of the limo, just say so.’

‘We want to get out of the limo,’ Eddie immediately responded.

The tic returned. ‘After you’ve heard what I have to say.’

‘Thought there’d be a catch.’

The elderly man looked back at Nina. ‘The Group has been planning for this eventuality for a long time. But sometimes wild cards –
Wilde
cards, even, if you’ll excuse the pun – mean that major changes can happen very quickly. Earth energy is one of those cards, and you, Dr Wilde, are the one who holds it.’

‘How much do you know about earth energy?’ she asked.

‘As much as anyone. We have access to the IHA’s files, everything that Jack Mitchell did at DARPA, Leonid Vaskovich’s work, the repository at Silent Peak and more besides. The most important things we know about it, though, are firstly that a very particular kind of superconducting material is needed to channel it. And secondly, that a living organism is also needed for the process to work.’

‘You mean a person.’

He shook his head. ‘In theory, any kind of organism can generate the effect, as long as its DNA contains the specific genome sequence that makes its bioelectrical field compatible. In practice, though . . .’

‘There’s only me,’ Nina said grimly.

‘You’re the only
known
example. There must be thousands, even tens of thousands of people in the world who can also activate the earth energy effect. King Arthur and the Atlantean priestess Nantalas are two people from history who could, so it’s likely that their ancestors – and descendants – also had the gene. But nobody knows who they are.’

‘And it’s not exactly easy to test for ’em,’ said Eddie. ‘“Hey, would you mind holding these statues to see if they levitate and you have visions?” Might raise a few questions.’

‘Exactly. Which is why you, Dr Wilde, are so important to the Group’s plans – and why Harald Glas is determined to kill you to stop them.’

The reminder that she was still a target placed a cold stone in Nina’s stomach. ‘Why is Glas so opposed to you? Victor Dalton said he used to be a member of the Group.’

Warden’s permanent scowl somehow managed to deepen further. ‘Dalton,’ he said distastefully. ‘I’m hoping to have some news about him soon. But yes, Harald was one of us – until a few months ago. Your discovery of all three statues meant that a plan we’d thought of as merely a contingency, a kind of best-case scenario, suddenly had the potential to become very real. He was opposed to it. Violently opposed.’

‘Why?’ Nina demanded. ‘And what
is
this plan of yours?’

He leaned forward. ‘Unlimited power. If we can harness earth energy, then it ends at a stroke our reliance on fossil fuels, and thus the conflicts over control of them. Oil, coal, gas – they become unnecessary if you have limitless power generated by the planet itself.’

‘So that’s why Glas has a problem with it,’ said Nina, making the connection. ‘It’d put him out of business.’

The not-quite-smile returned. ‘Precisely. Harnessing earth energy would be a paradigm shift on a par with the invention of the automobile – and if your livelihood back then was making buggy whips, you’d very soon be out of business. But if an angry buggy whip maker had assassinated Henry Ford, some other car manufacturer would have taken his place. In your case, though . . . you’re irreplaceable.’

‘Wait, so this guy wants me dead just to protect his
profits
?’ Nina cried. ‘Oh, that’s great. Yay for capitalism!’

‘We can provide you with full protection. You’re very important to us.’ The old man sat back. ‘So that’s the Group’s plan, Dr Wilde. As to how it can be accomplished, that depends entirely on your cooperation. And yours, Mr Chase. You said that this was about the statues. That’s true – they’re a vital part of what we hope to achieve.’ He turned back to Nina. ‘If you were to help us, you would use the statues to locate what the Atlanteans called the sky stone – a meteorite, of course, but one composed of a naturally superconducting material that channels earth energy. Once we have it, we’ll be able to build power stations around the world at confluence points. Not only that, but the potential of a diamagnetic material that can be made to levitate without needing a power source is incalculable. It would revolutionise air travel, for a start – aircraft could be made completely pollution-free.’

‘And what about the, ah, biological aspects?’ asked Nina. ‘I can’t exactly travel the world non-stop laying hands on your power plants to make them work. I kinda have plans of my own.’

‘You won’t have to. If you give us a blood sample, we’ll be able to sequence your DNA to isolate the specific gene that allows you to cause the effect. With your permission, of course,’ Warden added. ‘Once we have that, it can be implanted into some other organism. It doesn’t even have to be an animal – a plant might work, even bacteria.’

‘Hear that, love?’ said Eddie. ‘You can be replaced by a bucket of germs.’

She gave him a sarcastic look. ‘If that’s what turns you on . . .’

A low buzz came from Warden’s jacket, and he took out a phone. ‘Yes?’ he barked into it. ‘Where we discussed? Excellent. What channel?’ He disconnected and touched a control on his armrest. Part of the polished wood hinged upwards, a small television screen rising smoothly out of it. He turned it to face Nina and Eddie. ‘I think you’ll enjoy this.’