Thornfalcon (The ARC Legacy Book 1) Page 6

  “What's this thing doing?” Swanson waved his arm at the satellite. “That's no detector.”

  “We've isolated the code, sir. Aeon Fall have altered not only the system encryption on the base, but also the satellite itself. Those aren't detectors in there. That's a laser. It's…” There was a pause. “It's firing, and at the terminus of the beam, there's an opening.”

  “An opening to what?”

  “Sir, look! The magnetic field around the earth. It's altering.”

  The schematic of the earth showed the magnetic field surrounding the planet. Normally a neat figure eight, it was being distorted by a second source, far stronger than that of the earth.

  The room shuddered. “Get that thing shut down,” Swanson ordered. “That second field is far stronger than that of the Earth. This could tear the whole planet apart!”

  It was too much for Samantha. The press of people was too great. She pushed her way through the tangled mass of humanity and out through the door. If she were to meet her maker it would be where she could see the sky, not in a crowded room.

  It made no difference. She descended to the ground level of the control centre, and after a great deal of wandering, she was relieved to be outside the tropical haven of the foyer, although the screens still showed what was happening. More than that, while he had been silenced inside, Porter Rockwell's voice was still very clear on the edge of the runway.

  “I opened my eyes to find myself lying on a beach in Jamaica. I was able to recall my memories of the afterlife. My return here was prophesised. I'm a herald of the end of days. Look about you, do I not speak the truth?”

  The red glow intensified above the gloomy Adriatic.

  “You're not kidding,” Samantha gasped.

  In several places, the cloud had begun to twist, spiralling into funnels of massive proportion. They were miles across in width, and as the vortices struck down, they drained the Adriatic and bore it aloft as waterspouts.

  Samantha ran to the edge of the platform, leaning against the railing to witness the water disappear. The wind began to push against her as the air pressure battled to normalcy. Except there was none.

  “Miss,” shouted one of the ground staff in orange boiler suit and wind-goggles. “You've got to get inside.”

  Samantha shook her head. “Why? This is where all the action is.”

  “We're on lockdown. Everybody inside. Council's orders.”

  Samantha opened her mouth to argue and was hit by a blast of wind so intense it staggered her, knocking her from her feet and out under the protective barrier. She turned to see one of the mile-wide vortices bearing down, her feet hanging over the edge of the platform. The air reeked of fish where the seafloor had been sucked up and sprayed everywhere.

  The deck-hand grappled with her as she struggled to regain her footing. The waterspout closed on them.

  Above, where the red was most intense, a black hole was forming. Clouds spiralled up toward the darkness, the very air pulling at her. The base groaned in metallic agony as gravity from the hole threatened to tear them apart. Samantha felt her shoulders lighten as the feeling took hold.

  “We're gonna get sucked up if we stay out here much longer,” she shouted above the wind. “Sucked up…”

  That was it! Battling against the atmosphere, she fought her way back into the base.

  “You're crazy, Miss, if you don't mind me saying!” The deckhand shook his head as he secured the outer door.

  “Let's hope so,” Samantha agreed, hurrying back to the control room.

  The entire base now shook as the waterspout continued to bear down on them, heading away from the control centre, but still aiming for the middle of the runway. More than once, Samantha fell as she climbed the stairs, banging her legs, elbows, and her forehead.

  “Reap what you sow, Eva Scott,” the voice of Porter Rockwell gloated. “You should never have messed with forces beyond your comprehension.”

  Mercifully, the voice cut out as the base shrieked once more. Was that the last they would hear of Porter Rockwell?

  Samantha made back to the control room, now in a state of pandemonium. People had fallen to the floor as the base juddered, breaking limbs and opening wounds. Her mother cradled one arm with the other, wincing every time she moved. Swanson stood staring at the flickering screens.

  “We can't break the code,” he said aloud. “It's impossible. All this, for nothing.”

  “Blow it out of the sky,” Samantha shouted above the noise, causing everybody to pause and stare at her. The base heaved, the lights and screens flickered. A few people screamed.

  “You have access to weapons, yes?”

  “That satellite is one of a kind. We lose everything if we destroy it.”

  “And if you don't? Hello? That machine is creating a black hole that's going to rip this planet apart, starting with us!” Samantha pulled one of the sealed windows open. The wind sucked at them, depressurising the room and drawing the breath from her lungs. The waterspout filled the view, twisting with agonising deliberateness as it began to brush the runway. A plane turned as the vortex began to consume it. “You're running out of time. Aeon Fall called you out, and your response is to allow it to threaten all life on earth? Whatever's up there is not your technology. End it before it ends us.”

  For once in his life, Swanson appeared indecisive. Samantha knew the hype. This was to be their big day; the beginning of a new Era for mankind and a jump of generations in power and technology. It had all gone wrong.

  But why?

  “Swanson, if we're gonna do this, do it now.” John Wolverton held his hand over a panel, ready to take action.

  “Is there any hope of the redundancies kicking in? Of self-destruct?”

  “There is no self-destruct,” Eva answered. “Once the probe hit its orbit, it became self-functioning. It's been rebuilt right under our noses.”

  “God help that this doesn't make it worse for us all.” Swanson closed his eyes. “Do it.”

  Wolverton slammed the heel of his hand on to a button on the console on front. “Launch in three … two … one…”

  A brief surge of flame from the distant launch pad was consumed in moments by the twisting waterspout. The sky darkened as the whirling natural forces assaulted Hunters Ridge; the noise was deafening. Samantha let go of the window, which slammed shut. The rattle continued as the waterspout veered toward them, the light growing dimmer as more of the horizon was taken up by the gargantuan waterspout.

  Very quickly, the air pressure equalised. “Did it launch?” asked Swanson. “Did it go up?”

  “There was something from the other end of the base,” Samantha answered. “A burst of flame that was swallowed up in the water.”

  The panels of the control room blinked off, leaving the inhabitants in darkness. No one said a word, as debris hit the outside of their refuge and the building shuddered, threatening to tear apart.

  “May the angels forgive us,” Swanson prayed aloud.

  Was Swanson ready to die?

  Samantha vowed this wouldn't be her ending.

  Chapter Seven

  “Nina, what is it?” A twelve year old Samantha, bored of waiting on her mom to conclude another meeting, had gone wandering the grounds of the Château d'Yvoire, ARC's headquarters. She found her sister staring at an old photograph of their parents, tears running freely down her face. She sat down beside her, placed an arm around Nina's shoulder, and squeezed.

  Nina reached up and gripped her hand in reply, not looking up. “I miss him. I only knew Madden briefly, and even then the memories are fleeting.”

  “I never knew him,” Samantha mused. “I can't miss a photograph. But he's not gone, is he? Pop's just elsewhere. As long as that's the case, you're never truly alone. Besides, you've got me, and Mom.”

  Now Nina did lean into her. “Thanks, Sammy. It's good to have you around. We'll always have each other.”

  Samantha sighed. “If only there was a way to reach him, may
be we wouldn't feel so alone.”

  Nina lifted a bag from beside her, placing the photo inside and withdrawing a leather-bound book. Handing the book to Samantha she said, “Maybe this will help.”

  * * *

  Samantha pushed forward, ignoring the nervous sweat of several crowded technicians as they cowered. The moisture on her arms was a distant second in importance compared to the need to survive. Why were these people so quick to give up?

  Reaching the console at the front of the room, she leaned over the top of the woman who sat frozen, staring at the screen. Samantha recognised her—Tilly; Samantha couldn't remember her surname. She may or may not have helped her mother at some point in the past.

  “What needs to happen here?” Samantha asked. “How do we get the monitors back online?”

  Tilly just stared at the screen. Dark, shaking with the intensity of the imminent destruction of Hunters Ridge, the technician was unresponsive. The air was filled with the rank onion scent of nervous sweat. These people were terrified.

  “Dammit.” Samantha touched Tilly's arm. It was ice cold and shaking. She was going into shock. “Can we get a medic here? Anybody?”

  There was no response. The room was dark, cold and icy air filled the space. Everybody was dead. Their bodies were just waiting to catch up. Why was she the only one with any spirit left in her?

  “Come on!” she yelled, smacking the console. Tilly flinched. Maybe she wasn't dead yet.

  Samantha pummelled the console, the sharp edges of switches catching on the skin of her hands. The pain was sharp and sudden. Blood smeared over the controls.

  Calm yourself, Nina said as she crossed room. Remember father.

  Samantha turned to her sister and their eyes met.

  Breathe. Let the panic subside.

  And the answer will present itself, Samantha agreed. She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and pressed the override button on the unit. At the same time, Nina leaned over, a hand placed on her shoulder, and keyed in a sequence on a number pad. The screen began to flicker. “Maybe this will help.”

  “What … What did you do?” Tilly turned toward Nina, eyes still glassy and uncomprehending.

  “We never give up. Come on,” she urged the screen, the power of the base, just beyond the level needed to self-sustain.

  The screen flickered once more, then went dark. Samantha sighed, falling to the floor as a boom sounded outside, inside, everywhere at once. Many others fell as well, destabilised by the sound. Those who remained standing held their hands over their ears. Several had nosebleeds, but at least they were alive and moving.

  What the hell was that? Nina's silent voice asked, What did you do?

  Samantha turned to find her sister staring at her. She raised her hands, confused.

  “Look!” Swanson shouted, pointing.

  The screen flickered again, then filled from left to right with static, which quickly became the schematic of the earth with the magnetic field restored. The other two screens followed in quick succession. One-by-one, all systems were re-established. On one screen a radar pulsed, a dot speeding across the screen from left to right.

  “Debris,” called one of the technicians.

  “Heading?” Swanson stepped up to the screen.

  “It looks to be hitting Dubrovnik head on.”

  From outside came a crack and a boom as the unknown object roared past, high in the sky. The dot passed off the radar screen and the room went silent. After a few moments Hunters Ridge rumbled with the echoes of a distant impact, the vibrations running up through the floor into Samantha's legs.

  “What just happened?” Swanson asked. He raised his head, struggling to listen. “Are we still under attack?”

  One of the technicians opened the panel to the outside once more. A strange pink glow shone from outside, filling the room. “It's gone. It's all gone.”

  “What's that light?”

  In an instant, the population of the control room began to pour out into the corridor beyond. Swept up by the curiosity, Samantha found herself buoyed along by the tide of humanity in this desperate need to escape from their would-be tomb.

  The pink glow was everywhere, filling every small window without giving away its source. Samantha tripped, stumbled and had to grab hold of those around her to prevent being trampled. She was not alone. Others joined the council and technicians realising they had survived.

  As they spilled out onto the flight deck of the base, Samantha heard the words 'heaven' and 'miracle' called out by people ahead of her. Struggling to see what had all of her companions mesmerised, she helped the throng push forward. When she finally made the doorway, she pushed through those stood still, gazing at the sky, until she found a small open space.

  The air was warm, with a slight breeze. Samantha tasted the salt tang of stirred up ocean detritus. Hunters Ridge was a mess, planes strewn in the distance, wings broken off, many resting on their fuselage where wheels had been ripped asunder by the waterspout. The runway was covered in seaweed, flapping fish, and a thin layer of silt. It rippled where the remaining seawater poured off the surface to the muddy brown surface of the Adriatic below.

  It was the source of the pink glow that held everybody captivated, and as Samantha looked up she could see why. In the same area of sky where the gravity anomaly had been focussed, she now witnessed a marvel. A series of concentric circles radiated out from a distant point, the cloud that formed them caught the setting rays of the sun. The centre of the circles glowed bright pink. Light sparkled among the cloud, making it appear as if it were a tunnel, a pathway to a higher plane.

  “Red sky at night,” Nina said, coming to stand behind her.

  “Why does this not feel like I should be celebrating?”

  “Give it time,” her sister advised. “We're lucky to be alive.” Nina turned to the runway. “So much for the great experiment, the mighty fortress.”

  “But alive we are, and this is ARC's mess to clean up.”

  “You're still not on board, Sammy? Aren't you willing to get the least bit dirty?”

  Samantha turned to her sister and shrugged. “Why?”

  * * *

  The sisters headed back inside to a packed conference room. Swanson stood at the front with Eva, Jeanette Gibson, and John Wolverton. The lights flickered every few seconds but other than that, the room was habitable, sustaining only broken glass from the recent assault.

  Swanson watched Samantha over the heads of his people, nodding to her as she slid in with other staff.

  “Okay people. In brief, this is where we are. The good news: We're still alive and the earth hasn't been torn apart. Hunters Ridge still functions, what's left of it.” Swanson paused as he was handed a document, shaking his head, knitting his brow as he read the content. “It seems that's just about all the good news there is. We've screwed up here, whatever our intentions. There are immediate calls for ARC to account for its actions by the United Nations, America, China, just about every sovereign state on the planet.”

  “But we didn't do this,” Eva protested.

  “No, we did not,” Swanson agreed. “Yet, we are in this position because, for the good of the world, we keep secrets from the rest of humanity. To the nations of planet Earth we appear to be as much a terrorist threat as Aeon Fall and to our detriment, our response was to appear to say, 'To Hell with you. We would rather see the world burn than remain with you in it.' ”

  Swanson shifted uneasily from foot-to-foot.

  “Now not only have we acted rashly,” Swanson continued, “we have no evidentiary proof that someone other than us was directly responsible for what was launched in the sky sling. There are tasks enough for all of us. John— you, Eva, and Forrest are to look into what happened here. How did Aeon Fall amend the satellite for their purposes?

  “Jeanette, together with Alexander and Gaspard, will lead the charm offensive. The world has to know that we were not responsible and when we know why, present this information.”
<
br />   Gaspard Antroobus raised a hand. “Even if it brings to the fore facts we would rather have not revealed?”

  “I think it's a bit late for that,” Swanson answered the elderly Belgian. “Thorsten, Mohammed, and Clare, see what you can do to clear up this mess about the world. Please! All of you! Use your departments where necessary. All facilities must now be geared to clean up. Gila, Tricia and I will co-ordinate.”

  “From here?” Samantha knew she spoke out of turn but she wasn't about to stop now.

  “No, from Geneva. Once we can get the runway clear we're relocating. I don't want anybody looking at ARC and seeing Hunters Ridge as an example of our legacy. You, however, will be going in a different direction. I want you working with your aunt. Get your feet dirty that way.”

  Samantha started. “As if. I don't work for you.”

  “Like it or not, you are in with us. We need every pair of hands,. and you have more experience almost anybody.”

  Samantha laughed. The nerve. “I get you're panicking, Swanson. But me? You can't be so desperate that you're trusting the black sheep of the family with world-ending stuff like this?”

  Swanson moved through the crowd and past the sisters. “Follow me, please.” He led them into a side room, closing the door on the team outside. “It's because you're here that I'm using you for this. Rebel all you want, but you're not leaving us again unless I'm certain you're trustworthy. Through dumb luck you've never said a thing about what we do, who we are.”

  How did he know? “I—”

  “We keep track of those who we consider noteworthy, Sammy. You will do this, or you'll never again leave this base. I'm offering you a choice here. Redemption, or confinement. We've had enough of your games.”

  “It looks like I have no choice then. What about you?” Samantha asked her sister.

  Nina remained grim-faced and silent.

  “Sammy,” Swanson said purposefully, “Nina is attempting to infiltrate Aeon Fall.”