Amidst the Falling Dust (The Green and Pleasant Land, Volume 2) Page 5

  Chapter 5, Under Heaven

  I'm being dragged. Voices are arguing. Trowler and Tasker going back and forth. A heated exchange, about me, and what I gather Tasker sees as a betrayal. This is Edenpark. I can tell by the intricate pattern on the glass floor depicting leaves with swords for stems. I can tell by the picture on the wall of Stefan Kessler shaking hands with the queen at the opening of the complex in 99.

  “He's awake” says Mark Kirby as he and Sutton hoist me to my feet. No sooner have I dusted myself down and felt gingerly at the large lump on my head and the itching cut on my back, then Tasker has my chin in a vice like grip and is boring into me with a thousand yard stare from very close range.

  “Nice trip down memory lane Redmayne?” he growls.

  “I was going to come back before dawn.” My voice is embarrassingly shrill. The cool calm collected lies I told aboard the aircraft carrier have been replaced by this.

  “Bullshit”

  “We don't know that Manny” says Trowler.

  “We do know that John because the bastard would have been torn to shreds by the devil dog and shat all over his own lawn. It's pretty hard to go anywhere when your resting in the pit of a morphids stomach”.

  “I intended to come back” says I, “Truly”. “How...” The question is swiftly cut off.

  “Please don't insult us further by trying to imply that we would have had any difficulty in figuring out where you'd gone.” Sneered the lieutenant. I was still baffled until Patricia spoke. “The carrier had personnel files for all those on board, both military and civilian contractor.” Perhaps my master plan hadn't been so subtle, someone had evidently taken the time to look up where I lived in the event I went 'off the reservation'.

  “What now?” says I, feeling groggy and drained. The discoveries at the house had pushed me beyond the barrier of my mental endurance, I was in a psychological abyss and would roll out of it either stronger or dead, at the moment I didn't care which and Taskers knock-out blow and the aching from the wound on my back had simply been the icing on the cake.

  “Now you're going to live up to your word and pray that there was something to it”. The sun is peeling over the horizon as we start to make our way through the complex. Up here it's all reception suites, canteens and cleaning cupboards. The doors are all on standard maglocks and give way after a few firm kicks and shoulder barges. As we start to descend into the lower levels of the building we encounter issues. A number of thick security doors with electronic dead locks bar the way. In the before times a casual swipe of an access card would have had us through in seconds, now there is a good thirty minutes of chopping and hammering for each one.

  One thing that surprises me is how neat everything is. No graffiti, no blood stains. No broken glass or spent cartridges. Somehow this place seems to have avoided the main thrust of ragnorak, to have survived the end but been left with no purpose. I can only assume that Pendragon evacuated in good order before the main outbreak and the building has been lucky enough to avoid marauders or morphids.

  We are trying to reach the utility station on sub level 3. It houses the generators and an array of other building control systems including some security access points. It takes three hours to hack our way through. Fire axes become sledge hammers by the time we get there but eventually we reach our destination and I start to shine the torch around.

  My office was up on the fifth floor. I was a technical project leader, not the boiler man. Even so I am educated and experienced enough to start to see some familiarity amidst the systems here. I reach the primary generator to see Tasker already standing there. He looks back at me and sneers before continuing to examine the control panel. “I think that you have to...” my sentence is cut off by a glare of pure venom from the lieutenant who the slowly primes the pump at the side of the generator before engaging the power handle.

  After a lot of silent tiptoeing around the in dark the noise comes as a shock. One by one the sleeping diesel giants rumble each other awake until all four of them are humming away with gusto and we are standing bathed in the light of man made illumination. I cannot hide my surprise but no one is interested enough in me to notice it. They look in wonder as light floods the utility centre and console screens burst into life registering all sorts of data.

  I make my way to one of the security consoles.

  Redmayne P. - Codeword – Bucephalus.

  The computer greets me and logs me in with a friendly welcome screen which tells me to have a nice day. The system is sluggish. The desktop displays the Pendragon logo, more data scrolls in a window to the left, one oddity I notice is something telling me that 'Haven protocol is in effect', I was not aware of any such contingency.

  Good fortune in life had landed me a position of considerable influence and savvy within the global defence corporation that is..was...Pendragon Systems. As a member of the building emergency planning committee I was one of the few people privy to the process of disabling the buildings internal security locks so that the facility could be exited quickly. A few command lines and some GUI clicking later and I hear several satisfying clunking noises. The doors to the utility centre have already been demolished but at least now those beyond them were unlocked which would save a great deal of time.

  The military types who eyed me suspiciously whilst I was tapping at the keyboard fall in line behind me as I set off down the corridor. They are in my eyrie now and I will draw forth a little respect from them before this escapade is over I hope.

  It is with confidence that I lead us through the dizzying maze of corridors that make up Edenpark. We stop for a time to take on some fluids and grab a few dried biscuits. The building housed an impressive store to feed its thousands of workers, it will definitely be worth exploring before we leave but for now I am aware of the tension and the need to press on with the primary mission.

  Four floors down and deep in the centre of the pyramid we reach the lift that will take us down to two hundred feet below the ground to Pendragon Systems state of the art global command centre. A circle of light falls down upon the open sided lift that appears to be just a part of the floor. The light is directed down by a series of cleverly designed mirrors from the pinnacle of the structure to here.

  I usher my companions to stand within the silver circle before going to the operation console. I type in my password. I allow my retina to be scanned. I press my palm against the hand scanner.

  'Welcome Patrick Redmayne, how may I help you?'

  “We want to go down Shiva” says I to the automated building control AI.

  “Of course” replied the metallic sounding female voice. “What killed Arthur?” it asks.

  “Pride” I say before stepping onto the silver disc as it begins to lower into the floor. Trowler looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “A final line of defence, if I am compromised and somehow an infiltrator is able to get me to activate the lift. Pride is the default answer, in the event of a situation then I tell Shiva a sword killed Arthur”.

  “What happens then?” asks the sergeant.

  “Fifty high powered injectors fill the lift lobby with non-lethal, knock-out gas within zero point eight seconds. This renders anyone in the lobby unconscious”. A few seconds of silence pass before Tasker speaks. “What if they're wearing gas masks?” he sounds genuinely intrigued and it's the first time he's spoken to me without sounding like he addressing something being scraped from his shoe.

  “The gas isn't something that you will have heard of before, it can affect you through your skin and is pumped in at such high pressure and speed that it will soak in through the clothing almost as quickly as it would get in to the lungs.” This is food for thought. The journey down takes a couple of minutes and I know as military types they are mulling over this new found weapon that I have unveiled.

  “Was this something that the UK military had access to?” asked Sutton.

  “Not yet” comes my reply as the lift enters the disembarkation lounge. There are things I
know which I can share with no other, I have come close a few times. Fortunately the end of our journey is a welcome distraction which ends any further questioning. What the armies of the world often failed to understand is that they were just clients and customers. We built this stuff, we created the demons, they simply unchained them.

  We walk down a short corridor and out onto a balcony which overlooks the command centre. “Shiva, illuminate”. There are several gasps. The command centre is a large underground dome which is nearly a thousand feet in diameter. There are hundreds of screens, some of them sit in small individual consoles, some of them are nearly thirty foot wide. This was the nerve centre, this is where Pendragons board monitored the world, electronic surveillance, drones, satellites, undercover operatives.

  Pendragon Systems was a company built on war, on discord and chaos. They didn't sell people multi billion pound armies in order for them to sit around domestic bases and play tiddlywinks. The company made its money from conflict, so wherever conflict was found there would be the crimson sword and the mailed fist. Such a presence requires a great deal of money, and a great deal of organisation. Hence, the command centre.

  At the centre of the dome there is a raised area surrounded by thick blue glass. It is here we head. The arrogant part of me has surfaced now I am in more comfortable territory. I tell myself that the silence of my comrades is because they are in awe of this place, in awe of what we built.

  The Core houses the primary control boards and it is from here that I begin the lengthy process of trying to establish a satellite uplink. The worry which has dogged me is beginning to fade, I feel less and less like the deceiver, the building still had power, which meant that other things were possible too. The others hover in the background. They are out of their depth and I decline their polite offers of assistance. After much button tapping and several hundred command line instructions I manage to tap into the satellite feed algorithm. It is at this point I am confident in using Shiva to assist.

  “Shiva, display visual confirmation link for Eagle Knight One.”

  “Eagle Knight One visual reply” she echoes in the large room. We all look up expectantly at the large screen in the Core. It stays blank, just the occasional static flash. “Shiva, display visual confirmation link for Eagle Knight Two”.

  “Eagle Knight Two visual reply” says the artificial lady. More empty pixels. We cycle through. Three, four and five yield similar results. After the sixth satellite feed has failed to reveal anything Tasker can no longer bite his tongue.

  “What the pissing hell is going on Redmayne?” he asks eloquently. For a moment or two I consider how to frame the complexities of the satellite system to him in words he will understand. “The uplink was a system which required around the clock monitoring and maintenance. Tiny adjustments to the satellites trajectories and alignments were made in order to keep the uplink functioning. The system has been out of action for too long and is too far out of synch to give any kind of visual feed.”

  “Sounds like bullshit” comes the sneer.

  “Keep trying Patrick” says Trowler.

  We cycle through the next five without any success. We have flown hundreds of miles out of our way, and put ourselves in the position where we may never make it back to the sea going tomb waiting offshore for us. For nothing. It has been futile and only seeks to hammer home just what a waste our every action since the downfall has been, mankind is finished, the dead have risen and this is their time.

  “Shiva, display visual confirmation link for Eagle Knight Twelve”,

  “Visual link confirmation” says the machine in the same tone as she has the previous eleven times. A tone that belies what comes next. There is no static this time, the screen bursts into life and reveals a satellite feed of the ball of rock and gas that is Earth. Data streams down either side of the image, but none of us pay it a single iota of attention. We are transfixed, hypnotized by the cruel brilliance of what we see. This is a picture that will turn in my mind for the rest of my numbered days.

  Thirty seconds later the picture is gone. I try to re-establish. No luck, I work at it for a few minutes, then ten, fifteen, twenty. The next thing I know I have spent over an hour trying unsuccessfully to get the feed back up. In the background I am forced to listen to the mixed reactions of the others. Tasker rages, at me, at the world. Trowler just keeps saying that he doesn't understand while the others are silent, pensive, demon wrestlers. I give up. The chair creaks as I sit back.

  I look around the command centre, I dazzle myself with the lights which cut through the darkness of the dome. Then a thought hits me, it sucker punches my consciousness so hard I nearly fall off the chair. “Shiva, is it dark outside??” I ask frantically.

  “Can you clarify the query?” she asks me with not a hint of panic.

  “Has the sun gone down???”

  “Sunset was twenty two minutes ago” she states.

  “Shiva, switch off all internal and external lights above ground level”,

  “I am sorry Patrick, the manual overrides that you put in place to power the system prevent me from doing so, you will need to use the main junction box in the utility centre to turn off the lights”. I start to run with the others hot on my heels. I am given a taste of Lieutenant Taskers brutal physical strength as he grabs me by the scruff of the neck mid run and pulls me from my feet.

  “Where are you running to?” he bellows.

  “Let go of me you fool” says I which with hindsight was a mistake. The words are barely out of my mouth as the barrel of his weapon presses against my skull. I raise my hands in a placating manner. “Lieutenant Tasker, buildings like this give off a lot of light, which is bad enough, but this building in particular was designed in such a way to maximise the use of that light to create a pillar, a beacon of light which shines high into the sky”.

  “A beacon” whispers Patricia sounding horrified. Deep inside Taskers eyes I see that same horror, though the man masks it with many other hardier emotional constructs. Now we are all running. The lift up is agonisingly slow. The corridors do not seem to end as we race to the utility centre. I locate the physical breakers for the lighting systems and flip all twenty of them down in quick succession. The room goes dark. We breath deep for just a few moments. “Were we in time?” asks Sutton.

  “No” says Trowler from the security console where screens display a feed from the buildings external cameras. We all go over to look despite knowing full well what we will see. There is a line of Cadavers all around the building, with hundreds more joining them every minute.