The Covenant of Genesis (65 page)

‘If I can prove it . . .’ Nina began, before realising where he was heading.

‘There are people who believe the earth was created in 4004 BC, that fossils are fakes put there by God to test their faith, that there were dinosaurs aboard Noah’s Ark, that they can talk to ghosts, that a UFO crashed in Roswell. It doesn’t matter what “proof ” you show them otherwise: they have their beliefs, and they won’t change them. These are the people who will consider the revelation of the Veteres as a personal attack on their faith. Not just in America, but all over the world.’

‘And what does that gain you?’ she asked. ‘Sounds like you want to stir up the Danish cartoon riots, times a thousand.’

‘More than that. We want to stir up the entire
world
. Religion against science. Religion against religion. Believers against atheists. Individual countries against the United Nations. And the outside world against the United States. And you, as a scientist, a part of the UN, an
American
, will be the lightning rod for it all.’

‘I don’t think I like your deal,’ Nina said quietly.

‘You don’t have a choice. Either you do what we say, or you die.’

‘But
why
?’ Nina cried, the numbness swept away by a resurgence of emotion. ‘This is insane! Why would you
want
to turn the world against America?’

‘To protect it!’ said Dalton, a flash of fervour in his eyes. ‘There are too many people pulling in too many different directions, and in the end they’re going to tear the country apart. But this will splinter the outside world - and bring America together. The silent majority will finally speak with one voice. A God-fearing, American,
Christian
voice. Not Catholic, not Jewish, and certainly not Muslim.’

‘Last I heard, Catholics
are
Christians.’

‘Who give their loyalty to Rome, not their country. It’s time America was unified against threats from inside and out. One voice, one God, one people.’

‘You actually have the
arrogance
to say you speak for every Christian in America?’ Nina held up the skull. ‘And you think all that will happen just because of this? You think the American people are that frightened and gullible?’

Dalton looked smug. ‘The people believe whatever they’re told because they have faith in something else - the system. They want - they
need
to believe it works, that their faith is justified. So what the leaders say, the followers accept.’

‘Because it’s easier and safer than having their beliefs challenged, huh?’ said Nina. ‘Well, you know what
I
put my faith in? I put my faith in
the people
. To be
better
than that.’

‘You’re going to be sorely disappointed, Dr Wilde.’ He took another step towards her. ‘But enough philosophical discussion. You’re either with me or against me. And believe me, you don’t want to be against me.’

‘I sure as hell don’t want to be with you.’

‘Your choice.’ He nodded at the soldiers. Their rifles came back up, laser spots rock-steady over her heart.

She whipped out one arm and held the skull over the edge of the platform. The shroud fell away into the spray below. ‘If I drop this, you’ve got nothing. No proof of the Veteres, so no way to set the world on fire.’

Dalton shook his head. ‘I’ll be in exactly the same place as before. The Covenant’s been crippled, and I’ve got Sophia’s recording. And what I’ve told you will happen,
will
happen, one way or another. This was just an unexpected bonus, a way we can advance our timescale.’

‘There’s that “we” again,’ Nina said. ‘Who are “we”?’

‘As I said, there are leaders and there are followers.’

‘So which are you?’

That seemed to sting him, his superior expression turning to irritation. ‘I warned you I won’t ask twice, Dr Wilde. Face it: you’ve lost everything. Your job, your
fiancé
. . . Do you want to lose your life as well?’

The laser points moved up to her face. She closed her eyes - and just for a moment saw Chase, smiling at her from the darkness. Everything they had shared over the past three years flowed through her mind: the adventures, laughter and tears, exhilaration and fears, the highs and lows of the roller coaster ride that had been their relationship. And through it all, the love underpinning it all. Whatever differences they had, in the end he had always been there for her. A friend, a lover . . .

A guide.

She knew what she had to do. What
he
would do.

Nina opened her eyes, and met Dalton’s. Her gaze was unwavering, resolute. Fearless.

For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered with the realisation of failure.

She opened her fingers.

The skull dropped into the void. There was a faint
crack
as it hit a protruding rock and shattered, the fragments caught by the wind and vanishing into the empty waters.

Nobody moved. The soldiers still had their guns fixed on Nina, who stared unblinkingly at Dalton. He looked back, until finally turning away with a small grunt almost of amusement. A gesture, and the two men lowered their weapons.

‘Well?’ Nina demanded, breathing heavily.

One of the soldiers turned questioningly to Dalton. ‘Sir?’

‘Leave her,’ said Dalton. He met Nina’s eyes again. ‘You’ve got nothing,
Nina
. No concrete proof, just a few photographs - and they’ll be debunked as fakes, I can guarantee that. The news networks will make you a laughing stock before you even open your mouth. You’ll just be another crank, a has-been who had her moment - then went off the rails.’ The smug smirk returned. ‘Living with that will be worse than killing you.’

‘This isn’t over,’ Nina insisted.

‘Oh, it is.’ He spoke to the nearest soldier. ‘Get rid of these bodies and clean up.’

‘And her?’ the man asked.

‘Like I said, leave her.’ He started towards the helicopter, before delivering a parting shot over his shoulder. ‘There’s a two-seat F-15 waiting for me in Germany - I’ll be back in Virginia before breakfast. As for you . . . I wouldn’t be in any rush to get home. You won’t enjoy the reception. Goodbye, Dr Wilde.’

He disappeared into the black helicopter’s red-lit interior. The soldiers quickly scooped the two corpses into body bags, one man using a high-pressure spray of some pungent chemical to disperse the blood. The guns were retrieved, even the leather case and ziplock bag taken away. The whole process took barely two minutes before the last soldier boarded the chopper, which left the ground before the hatch had even fully closed. The aircraft swung over Nina’s head, blasting her with a hot wind before being swallowed by the dark sky, the thud of its rotors fading within moments.

She stared after it, left alone.

Completely alone. Dalton was right. She had nothing. No proof.

No Chase.

Slumping against the railing, she began to weep.

N
ina blankly watched the endless bustle of Manhattan passing the coffee shop’s window with a feeling of complete disconnection. Even though she was surrounded by crowds, she was isolated, alone. Hollow.

It was now three weeks since she faced Dalton at the waterfall, two weeks and six days since she had endured a hostile interrogation at JFK and an unpleasant confrontation with a press pack of mocking jackals as she emerged from the gate, all prepped with questions about her suspension - now permanent - and the deaths she had caused and her crazy theories that were an insult to every decent American. Dalton’s people had done their job well, a pre-emptive smearing to make her look a fool, a dangerous crank, a joke.

She didn’t care. About anything. Nothing mattered any more.

The media interest died down quickly, simply because she had nothing to say. Cable news pundits still reviled her every so often, but the mainstream media had moved on. Disgraced scientists were less of a draw than drunken actors or pregnant singers or the contestants in the latest talent show. It had been two days since anyone had recognised, or insulted, her in the street. Dr Nina Wilde was old news. Forgotten.

She stared into her coffee cup, swirling the last dregs around its bottom. Her reflected face looked back at her without expression.

That, she knew all too well, was just a façade, a shell. She couldn’t
allow
herself to feel anything. Because if she did, she knew what emotion would consume her.

Despair.

She had thought her anguish would fade over time. She had been wrong. Instead it had mutated, a cancerous tumour in her psyche, poisoning every moment. It took all her willpower not to give in to it . . . but in moments of loneliness, she couldn’t stop the awful darkness from rising.

She gulped down the final mouthful of coffee, then summoned the strength to return to the apartment. The empty apartment. Sometimes she kept walking the streets of Manhattan for hours to avoid having to go back to it, but in the end she always had . . . because she had nowhere else to go.

Nina was walking to the door when something made her pause. Dalton’s name.

It was hardly the first time she had heard it since returning, loss and loathing flooding back at each occurrence. But there was something different about it now, a buzz as it spread through the customers. She turned. People were talking on phones, scanning news pages on laptops, spreading the word. She tried to pick out details through the growing hubbub.

‘- the President -’

‘- he slept with -’

‘- terrorist -’

‘- might have to resign -’

‘- a video -’

‘- all over the Internet -’

‘- I found it, I got it here!’

People clustered round one man, who tilted his laptop’s screen so they could watch. Nina hesitated, then joined them. She could barely see the screen through the throng, but a glimpse was enough.

She turned away, heading for the exit as the grainy video of Sophia Blackwood and Victor Dalton, faces and naked bodies clearly visible, played.

‘Where did it come from?’

‘I dunno, but it’s all over the place. YouTube already pulled the original, but there’s hundreds of copies up, it’s on the torrents, everywhere!’

‘Is that - that’s her, isn’t it? The bitch who tried to nuke us?’

‘Is that really the President? It can’t be. Can it?’

‘It’s him, it’s really him!’

The voices faded behind Nina as she left the shop and stood on the street. The word was here too, a verbal virus leaping from person to person. Shock, laugher, disbelief, intrigue - everyone had a different reaction.

But
everyone
had a reaction. Everyone knew.

Nina hurried towards her apartment, the tiniest seed of an emotion she hadn’t felt for some time taking root inside her.

Hope.

 

By the time she reached home, every shop window TV, every radio blaring from a passing cab, every overheard cell phone conversation was about the same thing.

The President of the United States had been filmed
in flagrante
. That he hadn’t been president at the time was immaterial; that the woman with him not only was not his wife, but had almost succeeded in detonating a nuclear bomb in New York, most certainly was. The video had spread across the Internet in a matter of hours, a digital hydra spawning new heads exponentially. A news story so big that whatever a network’s political biases, it could not be ignored.

Nina rushed to the TV. She had avoided the news channels since her return, but now sought them out. There was only one story.

A caption told her she was watching a live broadcast from the White House press room, the familiar blue curtains behind a flustered man in a suit: the White House press secretary. Questions were being shouted at him, voices overlapping. ‘One at a time, one at a time!’ he cried, almost pleading. ‘You, Pete. One at a time.’

‘Is the President going to resign?’ someone yelled.

‘The Pres - the President will make a statement concerning this - this fabrication later today,’ the press secretary stammered. ‘That’s all I can say right now.’

‘That’s the official line, that it’s a fabrication?’

‘It is, yes.’

‘It’s a fabrication, or it’s the official line?’

Another voice chipped in with a loud aside of, ‘If it’s a fake, it’ll win the Oscar for special effects.’ Laughter erupted around the room.

‘Will the President resign?’ someone else boomed. The question was repeated with minor variations from what seemed like the entire press corps. The man visibly quailed.

Nina stepped back from the TV. ‘Gotcha,’ she whispered as she switched it off. If Dalton had Sophia’s recording, then the only way a copy could have been made was . . .

A reflection in the blank screen told her she was not alone.

‘Ay up,’ said a familiar voice. ‘Don’t I get a kiss hello?’

‘
Eddie!
’ Nina screamed in delight as she spun to see Chase sitting casually on a chair in the corner, looking as if he’d just come back from the 7-11 rather than the dead. She ran to him. ‘Oh my God, oh my God! Is it really you?’

‘Course it’s bloody me! What, you think I’m a zombie? Ow, don’t hug me there, ow!’ He grimaced and pushed her off his chest. ‘I’ve got a bust rib and a fucked-up lung, so don’t go poking at ’em!’

‘What happened?’ Nina asked, emotions whirling. ‘I thought you were dead!’ Tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘Oh, God, I thought you were dead . . .’

‘Yeah, I did too, for a bit. When Sophia shot me she hit a rib, but I still got a fragment in the lung. I don’t remember too much, just trying to keep my head above the water, but I think I ended up a couple of miles downstream where someone found me. Got taken to hospital, and they patched me up.’

‘What happened to Sophia?’

‘Now that I
do
remember. I, ah, used her as an airbag. She hit a couple of rocks on the way down.’