Sun of the Sleepless (49 page)

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Authors: Patrick Horne

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BOOK: Sun of the Sleepless
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'- and the Bell?' questioned Jackson.

'We wanted it! We knew about it and we basically knew that he had the raw technology if not the original scientists. Alright, that didn't come to anything but when we discovered that the Soviets were experimenting we pursued them with the same vigour.'

'You could have told us that!' Jolene interjected.

'Plausible deniability, Jolene!' Kappel remonstrated.

'This technology is way beyond the simple benefits of propulsion and tactical weapons. There were those in the know that wanted the Bell and would have done anything to get it, both then and now. Can you imagine the effect on global geo-politics? Free energy for an entire nation? The knock-on effect to middle-eastern influence? Weapons that can wipe whole countries off the map without the fall-out of nuclear weaponry? We chased that technology for decades and, even with the snippets that were supplied to us, we never achieved any kind of major breakthrough.'

Kappel leaned back in his chair and sighed.

'If I had of told you all of this you wouldn't have needed to do any research of your own. They're watching, the so-called military-industrial complex, they watching me and you. What you have found is available in the public domain, anybody can track it down if they take the time to look for it, but that doesn't mean that they will tolerate the Deputy Director of the CIA shouting his mouth off. You needed to discover some of this for yourselves to throw them off the scent. This way, instead of becoming a liability, you become useful; you become the team that can lead them to the technology. This way, you're safe.'

Jackson nodded.

'So we recover the technology and hand it over to them, is that what you mean?'

Kappel nodded sullenly.

'- that is their plan, no doubt, but it isn't necessarily how things should pan out.'

Jolene looked suspiciously to Jackson and then turned back to the screen.

'You have to believe me,' Kappel whispered hoarsely, 'I have agonised over the decision of what to do. I've thought long and hard and taking you into my confidence has been the least of it. Jolene, Jackson, I don't want this technology retrieved, we must never get our hands on it!'

They both sat dumbfounded and could not quite believe that they had heard him correctly. Jackson ran a hand over his head, brushing his greying hair.

'Sir, are you saying what I think you're saying?'

Kappel nodded.

'Probably. Hitler may have been mad but he wasn't entirely stupid. He knew what might happen if the ultimate power of destruction was placed in the hands of his Generals, even in the hands of the operators themselves. The man with his finger on the trigger could control the destiny of the world with the power to instantaneously level mountains or vaporise entire cities. The Russian scientists realised it too, they gave their lives to prevent the device from developing even further. Mankind simply isn't ready for such power; the power of God, you might say. It won't make the world a safer place for our own military to be given such a weapon, let alone the politicians who are lining up to move into the Whitehouse and use it as a political weapon with the promise of limitless cheap energy.'

'Yes, but sir,' Jackson mumbled in a defensive tone, 'this weapon appears to be in the hands of a group that is currently threatening the world! What about them?'

'The Sun of the Sleepless?' Kappel shook his head slowly. 'Do you even know what their threat was? Do you know what they want us to do?'

His question was rhetorical.

'Their aim is not conquest, it is laughably peaceful. They want us to stop interfering in the affairs of other nations, propping up autocratic regimes for our own benefit and what is more, they intend to deliver the same threat to the rest of the governments of the world. They're coming after us first to set an example for the others.'

He breathed heavily.

'This is a prelude; if the Sun of the Sleepless cannot force the major powers to negotiate, they intend to communicate their objectives to the masses via the internet and then deliver Armageddon, literally on Biblical proportions. They want to turn the power structures of the world upside down. They want us to dismantle our weapons of mass destruction and return to a more introspective existence, realigning the political structures of the whole world for the benefit of mankind and the communities that they serve rather than simply political or financial expediency. Their aims may seem naïve but they actually want to create a better global society.

'Laughable isn't it? This initial threat against us isn't even about prescribing our foreign or domestic policies. It is about trying to force the US to sponsor a new world body to agree and define a set of laws applicable to all human beings. They want to see us abandon our support for despots and let the will of the people have its way, whether we like it or not, enshrining their new order in an ultimate Human Rights act! No need for armies or sanctions or partisan politics to enforce the new international law, they will just beam a vortex until the governments of the world comply and do you know what, I'm not so sure it is such a bad thing!'

Jolene looked more than a little shocked.

'Sir, are you serious?'

'You think we'll be any safer if the US possesses this technology? That hasn't worked out so far has it? How many technologies of mass destruction do you think we have supplied to nations that we now regard as enemies or who cannot be relied upon not to use them on a whim. At least we know that the Sun of the Sleepless has no intention of giving away their biggest secrets just to fulfil a foreign policy decision based on the vanity of righteousness. These people don't even want to dictate what we should do; they simply want us to make our own rules and to stick to them; they want to give a conscience back to the world, backed by the power of divine retribution. They leave it to us to set the standards; they're just promising to provide the punishment.

'It isn't socialism or capitalism they fight against, but the abuses of power that creates exaggerated disparity between the leaders and the people, the rich and the poor, the plentiful and the starving. These people are nationless and they seem to really mean what they say, they want the governments of the world to act with honour and with the guiding principles of the equality of man.'

'As long as equality doesn't restrict their own actions?' commented Jolene.

Kappel jerked away from the screen, suddenly aware that he had spoken too vehemently, he calmed his tone and continued.

'They want to speak to us, I'm telling you, they want to engage us and this isn't about some simple terrorist threat but the inception of a new world order. The world is changing, the people are waking up, governments are being threatened by accountability and the public doesn't like what is being done in their name. By all accounts, the Sun of the Sleepless has been planning this for decades, maybe even centuries. Their plan will take time to culminate in its final effect but when it does, can you imagine the impact? The true ideals that our founding fathers adhered to when they wrote the declaration of independence, those intentions could be realised for everybody.'

His expression suddenly changed and his tone became overtly earnest.

'Do you think that finding the book on the internet was an accident? You think that we stumbled upon it at just the right time? We were meant to find it; the Sun of the Sleepless released it knowing it would trigger off alarm bells. It was a signal!'

Jackson looked unsurely at the screen.

'A signal for what, sir?'

'Communication!' Kappel exclaimed.

'We've known about the connection between this group and the book
Dirigo Lux
since Hanna first provided the information eighty years ago, she even gave us small portions of the text that she transcribed directly from it. Knowing of the group, we tried to make contact with them by posting the excerpts to a conspiracy theory message board, hoping that they would pick up on it and give us something to track back to. I think that this latest release signals that they want to talk to us, not to the military, not to the President, to us, the people, you, me, the whole world. This is a signal to those in the know. That is why our own military grabbed the book from you; they're trying to prevent us from making contact. They don't want us to engage in this process, they just want the technology. It sounds crazy I admit, but what I do know for sure is that we cannot allow this weapon to become another method of empowering one nation against another, even if what I am saying is tantamount to treason!'

Jackson did not quite know what to say and it was Jolene who recovered her composure first of all.

'What do you want us to do sir?'

Kappel lumped back into his seat, apparently exhausted.

'We have a deadline, they understand that we cannot change the political juggernaut of US foreign policy on a dime and they've given us five years to fulfil their initial demands, but they promise retaliation for every month if they think we're not doing enough. We need to find them, find the Sun of the Sleepless and make contact, let them know that we're listening to them and trying to do our best. If they want to speak, then I am ready to listen. We're on a precipice here and the coming events could redefine the nature of human society for ever, but we have to make sure that this power does not fall into the wrong hands.'

Jolene nodded silently even as Jackson thought about the story of 'The Ring of The Nibelung' and the corrupting influence of absolute power. History really did move in circles and there seemed to be no escape from its spiralling vortices.

Chapter XXIV
 

Wache, Wala! Wala! Erwach!

- Siegfried Act III

'Ramsey!'

Sergeant Andy Loftus barked the name through the crack of the door as he rattled the latch handle and jerked it open to the corridor leading from the small office space of the farmhouse in which he had discussed the team's predicament with Captain Rey Faber.

The slight figure of Private James Ramsey scuttled from the kitchen into the narrow passageway and he quickly fell into step to march in to the room. As he arrived before the desk, he stiffly brought himself to attention and crisply performed a smart salute, remaining motionless as he stared at the wall above Rey's head.

Rey returned the salute.

'Very good Ramsey, stand at ease, in fact, make yourself comfortable, sit down.'

He waved abstractedly to illustrate the request.

Ramsey looked around and spotting a kitchen chair against one of the walls, he quickly retrieved it and dragged it to sit in front of the desk, fidgeting for a couple of seconds to get comfortable on the hard wooden surface.

Rey glanced at Loftus who had settled into a well upholstered but tattered and well worn looking leather chair in one corner, the atmosphere now somewhat ominous and conspiratorial as a silence ensued. Rey leaned forward earnestly and rested his forearms on the desk.

'Ramsey, what I am about to tell you now is highly confidential, you must not mention it to any of the team.'

'That includes Jo,' growled Loftus from the rear of the room, referring to Private Joanna Moore who was discretely engaged in a relationship with Ramsey.

Rey acknowledged the interruption with a nod.

'Ramsey, we have to bring our plans forward. You're obviously aware that we have tightened security somewhat considerably, the whys and wherefores are not important but significantly, we need to fire up the Horn earlier than expected.'

Ramsey blinked once.

'Sir!'

'You're the chief operator and so you will be aware that we're about to diverge from our standard protocol, however, this is something that needs to be done, do you understand?'

The Private nodded but his slight frown illustrated his unease.

Rey pulled out what looked like a small cash box with an electronic number keypad on it. He punched in a sequence of digits and a green LED gave the indication that the box was now unlocked. Reaching inside, he pulled out a plastic envelope containing a thin cardboard wallet and placed it on the desk in front of him.

'The key-code sequence for our secondary target. Our primary target was to be radioed through but this was a fall-back option if communications were interrupted.'

Ramsey reached forward and picked up the wallet.

'The thing is, we can use these as the basis for testing the rig, although the target and calibration settings will need to be changed from those given within the documentation. I want you to recalculate for a new target and a new shot, do you think you can do that?'

Ramsey knew that it was an odd request. The orders for the target and the calibration settings came from the top and even though Rey was his superior officer - a Patrician as well as a Knight Errant in the Dominions compared to his relatively lowly status as a Brother Master within the Principalities - the suggestion that he had just heard was against all operating procedures.

'Sir, I'm not sure I follow you, the equipment was checked back at Dumfries, I performed a full system check and I double-checked the equipment when we arrived here, the Sergeant will tell you.'

He craned round for a moment for confirmation but the Sergeant remained impassive.

Rey furtively glanced at Loftus and then stared at Ramsey.

'Private, Ramsey, I realise that this is an odd set of circumstances and I am sure that your integrity tests were carried out as protocol demands, however, we need to perform a firing test to ensure that the weapon actually works.'

'Sir?'

Ramsey was confused, it had been drummed into him time and time again that the weapon should only be fired on the direct orders of Senator Dru of the Holy Order of Thrones. It had been clearly explained that even if capture was imminent, a last minute shot into the unknown as a defensive measure was not an option; rather, the whole device was to be destroyed. As the chief operator, he was well aware of what the Horn could do and understood at least some of the physics. He had been transferred to Rey's team only a year ago specifically for this project and although he had heard good things about his new commander and his experience so far had confirmed that Patrician Rey Faber was a devoted brother in the Order, he could not and would not break protocol without the express permission of a higher authority.

'Ramsey?' Rey growled.

'Sir!'

'Well? Can you perform the necessary calculations?'

Ramsey thought for a moment.

'No sir!'

'No sir?'

Ramsey fidgeted in his seat.

'I mean 'Yes sir', I can perform the calculations, but 'No sir', protocol forbids me from doing it. There are standing orders from the Powers that under no circumstances should the calibrations or target settings be amended and I -'

'Enough!'

Rey's interruption was exclaimed with finality.

'Sir!'

Rey leaned back and appraised the Brother Master who was now sitting stiffly before him.

'Very good Private, you clearly follow orders well, but in this situation we need some - flexibility.'

He nodded to Loftus who immediately stood and produced a pair of handcuffs, swiftly ratcheting them around Ramsey's wrists and yanking him to his feet, ignoring the spluttering questions and protests that blurted from his captive.

'You will go with Sergeant Loftus to the barn where you will be held securely until further notice. In the mean time, Private Moore will perform your role. Although she is the junior operator, she has shadowed all of your training for this project and since she has been with my team for the last six years and is technically of a higher rank than you within the Order. I think that we can rely on her to do what is necessary. I am well aware that you are the most able and experienced in calculating the firing dynamics which is why I have asked you first, but Joanna will have to do her best. Sergeant!'

Loftus snapped to and started to march Ramsey from the room, the now handcuffed prisoner looking back at his commander in shocked confusion.

'Yes sir!' was all he could muster.

'Can you do it?'

Private Moore pursed her lips and thought for a moment.

'I think so sir, but it may take me some time. I've only performed this type of calculation using the vorticular ballistic modeller before, although I know the procedure. It just takes a lot longer to work it out manually, say an hour or so?'

'Excellent,' Rey smiled, 'you have a scientific calculator there and the dynamics manual, if you need anything else, let me know.'

'Sir?' she suddenly questioned. 'What about James?'

Rey narrowed his eyes and frowned.

'Jo, you were supposed to make him fall for you, not the other way around! When Senator Dru assigned him to our team to ensure that an outsider was in charge of the Horn operation, I asked you to gain his confidence for exactly this kind of circumstance. Don't tell me that you're no longer objective about it?'

'Well, sir, we have spent a lot of time together so I'm just concerned as to what will happen to him.'

Rey rolled his eyes.

'He'll be fine, he was just following orders after all. I'm hardly going to shoot him at dawn for that. He'll be in the barn with us; maybe he'll help you out with the settings if you ask him nicely. Just break it to him gently though, I don't want any tears or a lovers' tiff.'

Joanna smiled coyly and then snapped to attention, saluting sharply before turning and marching out.

Private James Ramsey was securely handcuffed to an old iron ringlet hanging from one of the massive upright beams supporting the roof of the wooden barn. In spite of the cold and heavy snow that blanketed the whole landscape and forest of the area, the interior of the barn was at least a few degrees warmer and the remnants of straw and hay that lay around the floor space gave a bronzed illusion of the harvest season, the sunny aroma of drying cereal stalks and grass pervading the whole decrepit building.

Rey stood at the top of a pile of dishevelled straw bales and peered through the mesh of the Faraday cage which acted as an electro-magnetic shield erected over the four axle Scammell military transport truck. The Aether Vortex Cannon - nicknamed the 'Horn'- was now visible, the packing crate having been removed and discarded and the strange looking pipe barrel leading from a convoluted spiral of tubes and stops rested horizontally, waiting for the command to start up and cough out its invisible but highly potent smoke rings.

The whole contraption seemed slightly too fantastical to be a real weapon, instead, appearing as a flamboyant rain-making machine of some crackpot inventor or a giant ray-gun from one of Buster Crabbe's 1936 adventures as Flash Gordon. The large domed cylindrical casement at the rear of the weapon added to the seemingly archaic representation of a futuristic weapon, resembling an underwater diving-bell which would have been more appropriate aboard the imagined Nautilus of Jules Verne's Captain Nemo.

'How is it looking?' called Rey.

Sergeant Loftus and Private Moore were clambering over the machine, performing last minute checks before attempting the start-up sequence.

'It all seems fine,' called back Loftus, 'everything as expected, I guess we should blow the cobwebs out and start her up?'

Ramsey looked up at Rey and then at the machine.

'This is against all protocols sir, you cannot fire this weapon on your own whim, it goes against everything that we're trying to achieve!'

'Thank you for your input Brother Master,' Rey snorted with a hint of irony as he looked down at him and cocked an eyebrow, 'your advice is duly noted for the record.'

He looked to Loftus and nodded.

Joanna Moore leapt from the flat-bed and started to plug in a small operations laptop to a wire that had been inserted into the control console panel on the side of the cannon.

'Console connected!' she confirmed to Loftus.

Loftus nodded and flicked open a flap on the same panel to reveal two buttons, green and red.

'Here goes then!'

He stabbed a blunt finger at the green button and the panel lit up a series of lights, looking down he could see a Moore already tapping at her keyboard.

'Entering start-up key sequence!'

She began calling off a series of letters that acted as a security code.

'Golf, Foxtrot, Echo, Foxtrot, Delta, Echo, Charlie, Delta, Delta, initiating bell cylinder rotation!'

Jabbing the 'enter' key, a whine started to emanate from the domed cylinder at the rear of the weapon, gradually growing louder and louder, a shrill shriek that resembled a jet engine winding up to full speed. Her screen displayed lists of diagnostic data until a message appeared declaring that full speed had been reached.

'Initiating pulse switches!'

As she pressed the 'enter' button the cylinder crackled violently, the buzzing chatter of a million bees audible even above the sound of the spinning electric motors rotating the drums inside the housing at tens of thousands of revolutions per minute. Almost immediately, a blue glow burst from the small round observation window in the side of the housing and the barn lit up like laboratory in a mad scientist's castle, the flickering blue light creating piercing rays with the intensity of an arc welding machine and causing a strobe effect that made the movements of the onlookers appear staccato and disjointed.

Ramsey looked up and shouted above the din.

'Please sir, you must stop this, it could be catastrophic!'

Ignoring the plea, Rey's brow hardened into a frown.

'Do it!' he yelled.

Loftus looked at Jo kneeling on the straw strewn floor of the barn and nodded and she started to very deliberately enter the calibration settings and target coordinates that she had calculated.

'This is crazy!' Ramsey cried.

'What if she has made a mistake, what if she has calculated incorrectly, you could wipe out a whole city!'

Rey's face was intermittently visible in the flickering blue light shining from the weapon housing and he glared down, for a moment appearing icily demonic, his eyes blazing.

'That is why we asked you to help Brother Master Ramsey. Remember, we needed a bit of flexibility? Don't you have faith in your Sister? Besides we've targeted the middle of the Atlantic, the chances of accidentally hitting anything are practically zero.'

Ramsey gasped in exasperation and looked to Jo as she typed furiously at her keyboard, his mouth silently gawping like a fish bobbing for food pellets.

'Targeting and calibration parameters entered, selecting firing sequence,' Jo called up to nobody in particular, but Loftus took the hint and jumped down from the flat-bed of the truck.

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