Dark Matter (56 page)

The Sunarr soldiers spread out, fanning themselves across the room, weapons raised.  Two of Shiwanevar's personal guards stepped forward, protecting her on both sides.  All conversation ceased.  The eyes of the room were transfixed by the open display of hostility.  Jay hadn't even made it to her feet; she sat there wondering what had gone wrong.  She didn't have to wait long for an answer.

'You have betrayed us!'  Shiwanevar said as she rose to her feet, stepping back from the table.  'You are trying to kill us!'

A deep loud thrumming noise interrupted her.  It grew louder very quickly as two helicopters moved into view outside.  Armed forces descending by ropes. 

'You!'  Shiwanevar said to her soldiers.  'Keep these people here.  Command group,' she said to her personal guards, 'get me out of here.  And take her with us!'  With this last remark, she pointed at Sameena.  One of the guards in red grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her out of her seat.  Shiwanevar looked directly at Jay.  'If anyone tries to stop me I'll have her killed!'

'No please!'  Jay screamed, 'please take me instead!'

Shiwanevar already had her back to Jay, ignoring her plea, escaping before the armed forces had all landed. 

There were some shouts from outside, now that the armed forces had assembled.  Then the windows crashed in as three objects passed through them simultaneously.  They dropped harmlessly onto the floor and everyone in the room looked at them, including the Sunarr soldiers.  The world turned white and quiet as the thunder-flashes exploded emitting light three times the brightness of the sun and a hundred and sixty decibels of noise, louder than a jet taking off.  It was more than enough to render senseless anyone in the room for a good few seconds.

They came in from all three sides.  The window frames blown out, the first unit abseiling down from the roof whilst the second unit gave support from outside.  They came in firing, shooting at the Sunarr soldiers even before their feet hit the ground.  The Sunarr, partially protected by their armour and helmets, opened fire at any shape they could see.  It was a short battle, but the loss was great on both sides.  The assault unit bore the brunt of human casualties.  Moving targets, they were easier for the Sunarr to spot with their impaired vision.  Five of the unit died, two more were injured, but in the seconds the conflict lasted, all the Sunarr were killed plus three of the guests and another injured.  The second unit made a forced entry through the front and burst into the Dining Room witnessing the carnage. 

It took several more seconds for the civilians to recover enough to be able to see and hear.  They looked at the devastation all around them.  Jay forced herself to her feet, barely able to stand upright she barked at her rescuers.

'Who’s in charge?'

A young officer stood forward, his left arm burned, flesh missing, he still managed a salute.

'I am ma'am.  Captain Henry Hoffenbach.' 

'I'm Jayanti Kapoor, Secretary-General of the United Nations.  Their leader, Shiwanevar has escaped with her personal guard.  They have kidnapped my daughter, Sameena, and have threatened to kill her if they are pursued.'

'What do you want me to do?'  The officer had only been briefed on this rescue mission.

'I don't know!’

'I'll report it into Unity Headquarters then.'  Hoffenbach said.

'Unity?'  Jay said, suddenly starting to make sense of things, 'Tell General Colt that the Sunarr must not be allowed to escape and save my daughter if you can!'  Jay had struggled with this decision, but she had pledged her life to humanity and she could not, would not, jeopardise that for any one person, even her own flesh and blood.

'Yes Ma'am!'  Hoffenbach replied.

18:09
              10 November  [18:09  10 November GMT]

Research Laboratory, Cambridge University, Cambridge, England.

John had been monitoring the Sunarr communications.  At precisely eighteen hundred hours Greenwich Mean Time, they went down. 
Right on schedule
, he'd noted to himself.  It had been pleasing to see.  Months of preparations had come to fruition.  He could only imagine what was happening at dinner parties all around the world. 
The desperate fight for dominance, the Sunarr reacting to the attacks, probably killing people indiscriminately.  This was the crucial time; the next hour would decide the fate of the human race.
  He lit a cigarette, ignoring the no smoking rule for the first time. 
After all, what can the faculty do to me now?
  He reasoned. 
I'll be either a live hero or a dead traitor
.  His terminal beeped at him, he looked at his watch, it had been just ten minutes.  He opened the program and his heart sank.  The Sunarr communications were working again.
  Shit.  Shit, shit, shit, fuck! 
He screamed at himself. 
How the fuck did that happen? 

His Doran communications device squawked at him. 
What now? 
He grabbed the device and barked into it. 

Great,
thought John as he slammed the device down ending the conversation,
you called me to let me know something I already know!  Fucking military!
  He returned his focus to the task at hand.

He ran a trace program over the Sunarr communications network.  It took two valuable minutes to report.  The news was not good.  The Sunarr had created a new security protocol and the anti-virus virus was now effectively dead. 
What to do, what to do?
His mind was racing, running through dozens of possible scenarios to bring down their communications again.  He tried running an interference program, essentially to scramble their communications.  It wouldn't upload.  His system was not recognised under the new security protocol. 
Damn, damn it all!
He stood stark still staring at a blank white-board, allowing his mind free reign to come up with a solution.  The minutes ticked by. 

As he stared blankly, his focus was kept being drawn to the Sekkos device.  It had never shown any signs of connectivity.  None.  What the hell.  He put on the visor and placed his hands in the device.  He ran a search for keywords around networks and connectivity, instantly translated by the device, it came back with one entry.  He opened it.  The image it presented him with was of a handle, pointing out at ninety degrees.  It appeared a dull red, lifeless.  He grabbed it with one of his hands and pushed it straight up.  It moved into the vertical position and changed colour to a bright green.  Then images and sound were projected into the visor, the unmistakable chatter of communications. 
Yes, oh shit yes! 
He had direct access to the Sunarr communications network. 
Now I need to get the interference program in here somehow.
More minutes ticked by as his mind again scrambled with this new problem. 

The Sekkos device isn't compatible with my equipment.  This is my only method of accessing the Sunarr network.  The only input it can take is a diamond encoded with data or my thoughts.
His mind was a whirlwind of ideas now
.  That's it, my thoughts!
  He took off the visor and switched on his overhead projector, which was connected, to his terminal.  He brought the interference program up on the terminal and projected the pseudo-code onto the white-board.  The pseudo-code was a program independent language, it represented what the code was designed to do, but in a universal format, one that could be used to program in any language.  He put the visor back on and turned up the brightness of the projector to maximum so he could read it with the visor on.  He started to read it to himself and as he did, the Sekkos device started to encode the program. 
It is working.
  It took him a full six and a half minutes to read it all, but when he did, it was ready.  He ran the program.  The communications handle dropped ninety degrees and returned to its dull red status.  He took off the visor and went to his own terminal.  All communications traffic on the Sunarr network had ceased.  He looked at his watch.  Twenty minutes had passed since it had started working.  He worried how much of an impact it had had on the resistance operation. 
Fuck it, I've done my best.
  It didn't feel like nearly enough.

18:10
              10 November  [18:10  10 November GMT]

Chester Square, Belgravia, London, England.

'I don't know why you can't just tell us a bit about what's in the letter.  After all, it’s been years since your mother wrote it, it can't be that relevant now surely?'  Anita pestered Solomon.

'She asked me not to.  It was essentially her dying wish.  I'm not going to betray her memory.'  Solomon replied, annoyed at Anita's incessant questioning.  It had been the subject of the conversation for the last half an hour and she was beyond bored with it.

'But can't you just tell us what kind of stuff is in it?  Not the details, just a hint at what it contains.'  Anita said trying a different tack.

Solomon sighed, she put down her fork, leaving her food alone for a moment and looked at Anita. 
Anita seems to have good intentions, but she is just too damned inquisitive.

'I will tell you this.'  Solomon began.  All the plates except for Natasha's were now being ignored, the focus moving to Solomon.  'The contents of the letter will be revealed at the appropriate time.  I can't tell you when that will be only that more than you can possibly imagine rests upon it.  I wish I didn't know what I do.  I wish that I had never received the first letter.  Really, I wish my mother was still alive and that I could have a normal life.  I know more about myself than anyone should have to know.  I have to live with that knowledge every day.  Now please can we change the subject?'

'I wish my parents were still alive too.'  George said, more to himself than the others, but they all looked at him, his sorrow a heavy weight pushing down on the room.  Natasha looked up at George and put her hand on his, squeezed it gently and kept on holding it.  The pain and anguish drained from his face and a look of serenity emerged.  He looked down at Natasha; her eyes sparkled with a light that appeared to originate behind them.  She smiled at George, continuing to squeeze his hand, and when she spoke, it was with an authority far beyond her years.

'Your parents loved you dearly.  They knew that you loved them too.'

George's mind returned to when he was seven, Christmas at home.  He had a lot of presents that year, an embarrassment of them really.  However, one above all else he still cherished.  They had given him a collection of books, scientific and religious.  In the card that accompanied it, they had written the words
The Truth Lies In-between
.  He had enjoyed reading them all, but never understood the meaning of the message.  Now, here in this room he finally understood. 
Science is the question, Religion is the answer, and what lies in between is the truth.

'Thank you.'  He said simply.  He had been touched in a way he never thought possible.
What is it about this child that gives me such hope for the future?

'Who’s up for a board game?'  George asked the rest, changing the subject for Solomon's benefit and his own.

'Now that's a great idea!'  Sally chipped in, closing down the previous subject.

They retired to the Drawing Room and found an original version of Monopoly amongst all the board games that Jack had.  Natasha chose it and no one objected, neither did they object when Natasha insisted that they all sit on the rug in front of the fireplace.  They moved the coffee table placing it in front of the French doors, pushing the four heavy armchairs up to the coffee table out of the way so they could all sit on the rug.  Jane set out the board and started to deal out the Monopoly money.

They were aware of the flash first, although it only preceded the rest by much less than a second.  It was like a blue-white wave, crashing over them and assaulting their eyes.  The power of the flash was tremendous, a physical force insisting itself on their visual cortex, their brains scrambling to react, to protect them from the trauma.  Then came the pressure wave, forcing the air out of the room, up through the chimneybreast to make way for the higher-pressure air pressing against the French Doors.  The hinges and lock strained against the pressure but it was the glass that gave way first, before any of the debris collided with it.  The shards of glass flew across the room like a large flock of birds attacking in close formation.  The armchairs, solid oak with deep leather padding took the brunt of the attack, the rest passing overhead spanning the length of the room and embedding themselves in the side and end walls.  The pressure wave continued without taking a breath, pulling the debris into the room.  Chunks of brick and stone sprayed across the Drawing Room, the armchairs again providing protection to the group.  Lastly came the dust cloud, charging into the room like a fast moving dense fog, enveloping everything in the room.  It forced its way up their noses and down their throats choking them in an instant.  Their eyes, still blinded by the light, now had to cope with an invasion of particles.  Their ears rang constantly, a deafening silence with a reverberating noise seeming to emanate from their skulls.