Rogue Command (The Kalahari Series) (56 page)

“Yes, Peter.”

“There’s a car waiting for you – outside ‘Arrivals’. Come to my office please . . . quickly!”

Richard attracted the attention of his young co-pilot, Yannick Vuylsteke, who was arranging a refuel with the handling agent. Richard pointed to his chronometer and raised a finger indicating one hour. Yannick nodded and Richard promptly left the building.

There were three black sedans outside the Arrivals Hall. As Richard approached them, the hazard lights on the leading vehicle flashed a few times and Richard quickly climbed into the back of it. The sedan’s wheels screeched as it pulled away. Richard was settling in for the twenty-minute drive when his pager rang again.

“I’m on my way, Peter . . . What’s happening?”

Rothschild seemed uncharacteristically flustered. “The Council decided to abort the rendezvous,” he answered. “Until the contamination question could be clarified. The servicing vessel was alongside when it aborted the docking sequence. As it changed course, EMILY vaporised it with her laser.”

“What!”

“Nobody could believe it. General Roper has declared it an open act of aggression and launched an attack!”

“Bloody hell! But with what?”

“There’s not much available. Sentinel Wing has around five Delta Class fighters remaining; they are already engaging.”

Richard closed his eyes and held the bridge of his nose. “Not Doug Winton . . .” he mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“I said it’s suicide, Peter. We all know it’s suicide.”

“And there is something else!” said Rothschild, after a pause of realisation.

“What is it?”

“There had been no answer from EMILY on the radio, despite frequent calls by Space Control on a dedicated frequency – but EMILY spoke a few minutes ago.”

“Go on!”

“I’ve got a recording . . . I’ll play it to you.”

Richard listened intently.

“
You may now know my intentions, but you cannot stop me. Soon the entire human race will be eradicated
.” EMILY’s synthetic voice seemed surreal, but it was also laced with spite and malice.

“That’s it?”

“That is all of it. She has said nothing else since. Look, Richard, the Federation are unsure of their next move – we are very poorly placed. Do you have any ideas?”

“Is there another way that she can get the virus to the surface?”

“The Council asked the same question . . . Professor Nieve told them that there are atmospheric sample pods on board.”

Richard leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. When Richard had his attention he turned his finger in a circle and pointed back the way they had come and gestured with his head, and then he flopped back in his seat and thought for a moment.

“Are you there?”

“Yes, Peter, I’m here. I’ve got a plan. It’s a long shot, but it’s better than nothing. We are turning around. I’m going back. Call the Handling Agent at the Cityport. Get a message to my co-pilot to prepare the
Ares
for flight. I’ll call you back!”

CHAPTER 31

Powerless

Richard was already halfway out of the door when the sedan screeched to a halt. He ran towards a set of double doors that had a bold sign overhead reading: ‘VIP Departures’. He leaped the three sets of stone steps leading up to them in as many strides. A security guard stepped aside as the doors opened automatically and Richard ran into the building. He stopped momentarily to get his bearings but Peter Rothschild had made the requested call and consequently an executive approached Richard immediately.

“This way, sir,” she said and pointed to another door on the opposite side of the foyer. It had a sign over it that read: ‘Royal Access’.

The route through security and immigration lay wide open and when Richard cleared those departments the woman opened a staff access door that allowed Richard onto the apron. He sprinted towards the shuttle. The auxiliary power unit was already running and Richard knew that Yannick had already commenced the flight prep.
It will be difficult to say no to the young man this time,
Richard thought. He quickly glanced at the structure of the S2 as he approached, checking for any obvious panels left open, or ground equipment still attached, but all seemed in order and he subsequently leapt up the short flight of personnel steps. Turning to press a button that raised the steps, Richard shouted: “Yannick, get onto the tower, we need to start clearance . . . and an unrestricted climb to fifty per cent elliopheric!”

“Aye aye, sir!” was the reply.

Richard checked the door mechanism and the green light that signified its correct closure and then he rushed through a doorway and along the short, narrow, corridor that led into the flight deck. Yannick was in his seat on the right-hand side, fully kitted and with his helmet on the cowling next to him. He turned. Richard knew that expectant expression only too well.

“This is going to be dangerous . . . we may not . . .”

“Prestart checks completed, Commander. All systems green. And I have start clearance . . .”

“Okay, Yannick, you’re on – start the engines!” said Richard, nodding his approval. Richard climbed into his seat and began strapping in.

“I’m to call back for take-off clearance, sir.”

Richard nodded again. “Copied,” he said, and made a selection on his communications panel that opened a satellite telecom link. He pressed a series of keys on the panel and dialled in Mubarakar’s mobile telephone number. It rang for several seconds but there was no answer. “Damn it!”

“Starting number two,” said Yannick.

Richard pressed another key on the panel and selected “Open speaker”. He redialled Mubarakar’s number – again there was no answer. This time Richard let it ring. He set about connecting his life support system and checked his oxygen supply. The double ringtone reverberated around the flight deck. To Richard it seemed to grow louder each time, like an assertion of failure. He shook his head. “
Damn it
!” he complained. Yannick looked at him with a troubled expression. Richard quickly dialled another number. After a few ringtones someone picked up.

“Rothschild!”

“Peter, Richard here, lift-off in two minutes but I can’t get hold of Mubarakar . . . What’s the situation?”

“General Roper has sent what’s left of Sentinel Wing against EMILY, but she’s destroyed three fighters and sent two home badly damaged. There’s not much else . . .”

“For God’s sake, why? It’s suicide against that laser system, we all know that. It’s designed to pinpoint Space debris in the ship’s path when she’s travelling at light-related speeds; it’s the most potent weapon system ever . . . all he’s done is played our hand . . . and it’s a losing one!”

“This is life and death! They will throw everything they have at her.”

“Where is the
Enigma
now?”

“Wait a minute . . . I have a monitor linked to mission control in Canaveral and an open line to the General.” There was a pause. “Apparently, she is over the United States at seventy-two per cent elliopheric. Her orbital concentricity is decreasing. Roper says that when she reaches fifty-eight per cent she will release whatever it is that contains the pathogens.”

“Both engines started and in the green, sir,” said Yannick.

“Good, start the retros! Go on, Peter.”

“Professor Nieve has recalled the serial numbers of the atmospheric sample pods that
Enigma
carried on her inventory during her maiden voyage. I’m told that they are a Type Four. For such flightless vehicles to reach the surface without overheating there is a specific re-entry profile. However, this type of profile has very narrow parameters. It was originally devised to return satellites to Earth when their power cells were depleted.”

“Yes, I know of it . . .”

“Canaveral Centre has recalculated those re-entry coordinates . . .”

“
And
 . . .”

“The S2 cannot track a Type Four, Richard, the profile is too steep – your ship would break up.”

“What about the laser? Selected to manual?”

Rothschild paused again to check data. “Canaveral has run the simulation. They said it would be a lucky shot – the fate of humankind on a lucky shot!”

Richard shook his head. “Are they sure that’s the only delivery system available on the
Enigma
? I mean, EMILY would know the risks associated with that profile, too . . . she’s been a long way to get those pathogens . . . it works both ways.”

“Professor Nieve has said that there is nothing onboard the
Enigma
that could double as a controllable delivery system and only an astroengineer would have the knowledge and skill to modify one of the sample pods in their inventory. Even if Gregory Searle is alive, he certainly does not have those capabilities.”

“So the Professor thinks that EMILY is committed?”

“In more ways than one!”

Richard nodded his understanding – it was clear that the odds were stacked heavily against them. The Dispatcher outside caught Richard’s eye; he was waving his arms in a desperate attempt to attract Richard’s attention. When Richard looked at him, the man gave an ‘away chocks’ hand signal. Richard looked down; he had deselected the ground controller’s frequency. “Oh shit!” he cursed and with his thumbs rolling outwards he gave the man the signal to go ahead and remove the restrainers. The Dispatcher pressed something in his hand and hydraulic clamps detached from the landing gear struts and descended into the concrete. A light extinguished on the instrument panel.

Undeterred by Rothschild’s news, Richard looked across at Yannick and said: “Ask for take-off, will you?” Then he turned his attention back to Rothschild. “Because of that direct attack, Peter, EMILY knows her secret is out. She will be on full alert and expecting more of the same. She also knows that a pod in free-fall is fair game. In other words, she will expect us to target it during re-entry and will use her weapon control and laser system to cover the pod’s trajectory until it is low enough to open.” Richard tapped the instrument panel cowling nervously. He had another idea, but it would have implications – possibly criminal implications.
I will cross that bridge when I come to it,
he thought. “Listen, Peter, I have an idea, and for it to work the window of opportunity is very limited . . .”

“We have take-off clearance, Commander,” interjected Yannick.

“Richard, what is your plan?”

“I haven’t time to explain, Peter, sorry. But I need to talk to Mubarakar. Let Roper know that I’m lifting from London Cityport and climbing directly to seventy per cent elliopheric. For this idea to work the
Ares
will be bait . . . I’ll call you back!”

Richard glanced at his co-pilot. “Checklist, Yannick!”

“Completed, Commander.”

“Copied! Well done! You have control. Vertical climb to the Compton Gate and then join the Dover Four Bravo transition . . .”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes you! Don’t forget, we’ve not much fuel and so we’re very light. All the same use eighty per cent combined thrust – forget burning the tarmac. When established in the transition, call London Control for an uninterrupted climb. I need to make another call.”

Richard redialled Professor Mubarakar’s number and pressed the initiate button. He listened intently to the calling tone and to his dismay the number continued to ring. Feeling distinctly uneasy he cut off the call and tried again.

Suddenly someone answered; Richard’s relief was palpable. “Hello,” the man said, and Richard instantly recognised Mubarakar’s deep, resonant tone.

“Professor, it’s Richard, I’ve been trying to get hold of you . . . Is Naomi with you?”

“Yes, Richard. Madame is here and Asharf, too.”

“What about the machine, professor . . . ? Did it work?”

“It is incredible, my young friend. Madame first tried the more modern languages, those that she speaks easily – Arabic and Latin – but to no avail. Then Coptic and Ancient Egyptian where she has less fluency – again it did not respond. But it seems that there is enough commonality between the old language of Atlantis and Ancient Greek for the figure to understand. It moves, my boy . . . it moves!”

“Where are you, exactly?”

“We approach the Plateau of Giza. There is a religious festival here . . . a national holiday! Today of all days, the way is clear.”

“Good! Please, Professor. Be specific. How long until you reach the Great Pyramid?”

“Ten minutes, not more . . . and then another ten to gain entry. Madame has taken me into her confidence. She will take me inside – to see the fabled temple. The machine moves slowly but precisely.”

“Okay, now please listen, Professor. The experiment continues. I’ll explain later. Do you have a watch?”

“Of course! I have my trusted pocket watch, handed down to me by my father. The mechanism is a century old but it keeps perfect time.”

Richard paused. “We have a critical situation but I have an idea. For it to work, everything depends on timing. I cannot emphasise that enough, Professor. There is something I want you to do and you must be absolutely precise in your timing – a second too soon or a second too late and I will fail. But first you must set your watch to Universal Corrected Time.”

“Yes, I understand. I adjust it now. What time do you have?”

“On the third mark it will be fourteen zero six. Six minutes after two precisely . . . Now, now, now!”

“I have it!”

“Good.
14:30
 . . . that is the critical time. That’s when Asharf must open the trap door. The secret lies in the Queen’s Chamber – he will remember, and Naomi will, too.”

“But there is nothing in the Queen’s Chamber. Only the outline of a granite sarcophagus that was broken-up and removed in the eighteenth century!”

“That sarcophagus was placed there more than a thousand years after the pyramid was completed, Professor. You’ll have to trust me on this. The chamber has another purpose – the original purpose. It is why it has a volume of precisely nine cubits and the ceiling is ‘V’-shaped to concentrate energy, and why the walls and the ceiling are of such thick granite and why they are blackened as if by fire and cannot be cleaned. Go there first. There are inscriptions inside a square shaft . . . and a code to open a trap door inside that shaft. The trapdoor is a valve, Professor, like an old Light Emitting Diode. Only then should you all go to the Temple of Osiris. Tell that to Naomi. She will know what to do with the crystal – but only at fourteen-thirty. You must ensure that the shaft that points to Sirius is opened by fourteen-thirty!”

“Yes! Yes! It will be done. After a lifetime of questions things become clear . . . If I die tomorrow, I will be happy.”

Richard smirked to himself at the thought of Mubarakar’s enlightenment. He wished that he could see the Professor’s beaming face when Naomi placed her hand in the recess and the secret door opened between the King’s Chamber and the Great Temple. “I may not speak to you again, Professor,” Richard said finally and in a subdued tone. “I wish you good luck.”

“We
will
speak again, young friend.”

With that, Richard closed the channel.

Richard snapped back to reality. Yannick glanced at him wide eyed. Richard looked up at his instrument panel. The altimeter was passing 10,000 feet and climbing rapidly and the speed was 500 knots. Everything seemed under control. He gave a brief smile to Yannick. “Good flying,” he said. “Now, what’s the outbound clearance?”

“We are approaching Dover, Commander, and clear to Flight Level Four Three Zero. Supersonic approved after Dover – Mach 5 initially. Then an unrestricted climb to seventy per cent. British Control has opened a corridor for us.” Yannick’s expression of bewilderment refused to shift.

“Disregard the restriction at Dover – accelerate to Mach 10. Do it now Yannick, and we will not follow the corridor either!”

“But what about the sonic boom over London?”

Richard shook his head dismissively and then reached forward and disconnected the autopilot.

As ‘Pilot Flying’, Yannick immediately assumed control. Now clearly astonished, he looked across at Richard. “But that is our clearance, sir!”

Richard felt the acceleration through his seat back as Yannick reluctantly opened the thrust levers. He knew an explanation was necessary. “EMILY, the computer controlling the
Enigma
will be monitoring all ATC frequencies,” Richard said, skewing in his seat and reaching across the overhead panel to make a switch selection on Yannick’s side. “She will have heard that clearance and will be expecting us to follow it. At the moment she doesn’t know who we are or what we are doing. But there is very little global air traffic and she will be suspicious of anything launching with orbital capability. She has a very sophisticated sensor system and a laser initiator that can vaporise a pea at ten thousand kilometres. The moment we pass fifty per cent elliopheric she will treat us as a threat. We are going to be a little unorthodox from here on in, Yannick. I have control.”

“Er, yes, you have control, sir, you . . .”

“This is British Control calling
Ares
 . . . come in
Ares
. . .”