“I have to confess that I was always rather skeptical about Maximilian’s ability to construct this facility,” Nathaniel said as they walked past a window looking down into one of the tactical training caverns where, far below them, a group of Henchman students in their blue uniform jumpsuits were storming a large concrete building. Instructors stood around barking instructions at them as they practiced breaching and clearing the structure. “We had something of a bitter falling out over it to be honest. I told him it was a foolish notion to build inside an active volcano and I wanted no part of it. He always insisted that it was viable though. It appears I may have rather underestimated him.” He pointed his walking stick up at the lights in the ceiling. “I assume that the whole facility runs on geothermal power?”
“Yes,” a familiar voice said behind them, “the hardest part was controlling the pressure in the magma chamber actually.”
They turned to see Professor Pike walking down the corridor toward them, a broad smile on his face.
“Theodore!” Nathaniel said, grinning. “How are you, old friend?”
The two old men embraced, clapping each other on the back.
“I’m very well thank you, Nathaniel,” the Professor replied, still smiling, “other than the usual inconveniences of our ever increasing years, of course.”
“Don’t remind me,” Nathaniel said with a chuckle. “It seems like a new and interesting part of my body starts hurting every morning.”
“I know the feeling,” Pike said. “We still have it where it counts though.” He tapped the side of his head.
“Even if you still can’t beat me at chess,” Nathaniel replied with a wry smile. “Knight to queen’s bishop three. Checkmate.”
The Professor paused for a moment picturing in his head the layout of the pieces on the board in the latest of the games that the two of them had played over the years.
“Damn,” the Professor said after a moment or two, shaking his head. “Thought I had you there too.” He turned toward Otto. “It’s good to see you too, Mr. Malpense. Staying out of trouble, I hope?”
“Of course,” Otto replied. “You know me, Professor.”
“Indeed I do, Mr. Malpense, indeed I do,” the Professor replied, “which is why I’ve activated the school’s long-range defense grid. Just as a precaution you understand.”
“We need to keep moving,” Raven said. “Doctor Nero will be finished briefing the council shortly and we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“Of course,” the Professor said with a nod. “You should pop down to the Science and Technology department when you’re done, Nathaniel. I have a couple of things to show you that I think you might find interesting.”
“Looking forward to it,” Nathaniel replied with a smile.
Otto, Raven, and Nathaniel moved on, making their way through the twisting corridors until they arrived at Nero’s office. Raven placed her hand on the palm scanner next to the door and it slid aside with a soft hiss. Raven stood to one side of Nero’s desk as Otto took a seat and Nathaniel moved across the room, studying a Turner seascape painting on the wall.
“I’ll be damned,” Nathaniel whispered under his breath. “So that’s where it ended up.”
A moment later the door hissed open again and Nero and Darkdoom walked into the room, both looking serious.
“Good to have you back, Natalya,” Nero said with a nod to Raven, “and I’m glad to see that you made it back in one piece too, Otto—though the Italian authorities are rather upset about the incident in Venice. Our local operatives will have to keep a low profile for a while.” Nero glanced over at Nathaniel, a curious, unreadable expression on his face as the old man turned slowly to face him.
“Hello, Maximilian,” Nathaniel said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Hello, Father,” Nero replied.
chapter seven
“I’m afraid that an apology is not always sufficient,” Furan said, raising the silenced pistol that had been resting on her lap and leveling it at the startled man on the other side of her desk. The man rose quickly to his feet as the pistol made two soft coughing sounds. The man toppled backward over his chair, hitting the ground with a thud as one final breath rattled from his lungs. The other two men sat facing her glanced at each other nervously as Furan placed the pistol on the desk in front of her, a wisp of white smoke rising from its muzzle. “No apologies, gentlemen, just explanations. Explain to me how we can have such a collection of high-value targets in our sights and yet the only person who was killed was our own operative.”
“We’re not sure,” one of the men replied, licking his lips nervously. He wore a dark suit, his short black hair swept back from a widow’s peak. “The last communication we had from the Metzer girl was when you spoke to her. As you know she gave no indication that she had encountered any difficulties.”
“And yet our targets made their escape and we lost a hugely valuable opportunity, Mr. Withers,” Furan said, her expression unreadable. “Did we achieve anything of value? I assume not on the basis of the late Mr. Sands’s tactical report.” She gestured vaguely at the body on the floor.
“We did have some success,” Dr. Klein replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying hard to not be distracted by the fresh corpse that lay on the ground next to him. “The prototype performed flawlessly. It was unfortunate that the assassination drones that it launched from the Megalodon were ineffective, but it did manage to destroy Darkdoom’s vessel and escape entirely undetected. That will be a bitter blow to Darkdoom and his allies.”
“Indeed,” Furan replied. “You did not encounter any behavioral aberrations, I assume?”
“Nothing but unwavering obedience,” Klein replied. “The alterations we made to its personality matrix appear to have been successful.”
“Good. Then I see no reason why we should not proceed to the next stage of the operation,” Furan said with a satisfied nod. “I take it that everything is ready at the incubation facility?”
“We can begin the process immediately,” Klein replied.
“Then do so,” Furan said. “Project Absalom is vital to our future plans, Doctor Klein. Work quickly but carefully. I will be most displeased”—she glanced meaningfully at Sands’s body—“if anything was to go wrong with the next stage of its development. I trust I make myself clear?”
Klein nodded, swallowing nervously.
“Good. You may go.”
Dr. Klein stood up and left the room, walking carefully around the pool of blood that was slowly spreading across the polished-concrete floor.
“Congratulations, Mr. Withers, you are my new head of tactical operations. Let us hope you are more successful than your predecessor,” Furan said with a nasty smile. “We should expect retaliation from G.L.O.V.E. for our attack on Darkdoom’s submarine. Increase security on our other facilities and make sure that the protection details around the other senior Disciples are at full readiness. I do not want a repetition of the fiasco with Senator Ronson.”
“I will double their surveillance and protection details,” Withers replied with a nod.
“No mistakes,” Furan said. “Very soon our fight with Nero will escalate from a series of skirmishes to a full-scale war and I want to ensure the safety of our assets when it does. Dismissed.”
Withers stood and walked toward the door.
“Oh, and Mr. Withers, please arrange a clean-up team,” Furan said casually, gesturing toward the corpse on the floor, “to deal with this . . . mess.”
Otto imagined his own expression was just as surprised as the one on Raven’s face as Nero and Nathaniel faced each other. Father? Otto thought. What the hell? Obviously he knew that Nero must at some point have had parents just like everyone else, but for some reason he still found it difficult to get his head around the concept that Nero had anything as normal as a family.
“Your school is most impressive,” Nathaniel said, gesturing at the walls around him with his stick.
&n
bsp; “Thank you,” Nero said, “though I do seem to remember you telling me that building it would be impossible.”
“Yes, well, sometimes I’m wrong about these things,” Nathaniel replied, “though not often.”
Nero stood behind his desk and Darkdoom took a seat next to Otto.
“So, what exactly have you got me involved in this time, Maximilian?” Nathaniel asked, turning back to study the Turner painting. “You know that I don’t take sides in these things normally, but Diabolus tells me that Anastasia Furan has reared her frightfully ugly head again.”
“Indeed,” Nero replied, “so I had you brought here for your own protection.”
“I am quite capable of looking after myself, thank you,” Nathaniel said, sounding slightly irritated.
“As clearly evidenced by your excellent choice of apprentice,” Nero replied. “An apprentice who it now appears was working for Furan the whole time. What exactly was it that she persuaded you to do?”
“Who I choose to work with is my affair,” Nathaniel said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She was an excellent student and a talented architect. I suppose you’re trying to tell me that you’ve never been betrayed by someone you thought you could trust. Besides, Furan only attacked me when I got involved with your lot.”
“It was only a matter of time before she decided that you had outworn your usefulness to her regardless of whether you were working with G.L.O.V.E. or not. I may have always tolerated your neutrality, but Furan expects nothing less than absolute loyalty and obedience.”
“Oh, and I suppose your organization is built on a foundation of easy-going camaraderie, isn’t it? Do you know why I’ve always remained neutral in these affairs? I’ll tell you why. Because you’re all as bad as one another. There was a time when you at least knew where you stood, who you could trust and who you couldn’t. Now you’re all too busy with double-crosses, betrayal, and squabbling to actually get anything done.”
“Gentlemen,” Darkdoom said quickly, before Nero could reply, “this is getting us nowhere. The fact of the matter is that we are now all firmly within Anastasia Furan’s sights and we have to find her and her allies and stop them before they can do any more damage. Then we can all take as much time as we like to argue the rights and wrongs of our respective positions, but right now we need to prioritize.”
Nero and Nathaniel stood glaring at each other for a moment before Nero sat down behind his desk with an exasperated sigh.
“Can you tell us anything about this new Glasshouse that you designed for Furan?” Darkdoom asked.
“As I’ve already explained,” Nathaniel replied, “I had no idea that was what it was. It was Gretchen who initially brought the project to my attention. She told me that she had been approached by a secretive branch of the Russian intelligence services who wanted me to design a new prison facility for them. It was supposed to be somewhere that they were going to incarcerate the worst of the worst, people who must be kept behind bars indefinitely. It had to be totally secret and most of all it had to be impregnable. We called it the Vault and I took the project on because it was a challenge that I had not encountered before; a truly secure facility that it would be impossible to break out of.”
“And you didn’t have any reason to suspect that Gretchen was lying to you?” Darkdoom asked.
“No reason at all,” Nathaniel replied, shaking his head. “It was quite normal for her to bring a project like that to me and I’ve always left my assistants to deal with the relationship with my clients. I didn’t want to be bothered with all that. The only thing that was slightly unusual about this particular project was that the client would not discuss the geographical location of the structure. It was slightly out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t the first time that I’d worked under those conditions. Sometimes my clients just want a blueprint, sometimes they want me to arrange the entire construction of the project. It’s their decision ultimately. They provided me with basic topographical and geological details of the site and I adapted my design accordingly.”
“So this Vault was actually Furan’s new Glasshouse,” Otto said, “and you had no idea that you were working for her.”
“No,” Nathaniel said with a worried expression. “I would never have taken the project if I’d known, but I had no reason to suspect otherwise. Up until a few hours ago I thought that Anastasia Furan was dead. Nobody had told me about her apparent return from the grave.” He raised an eyebrow at Nero.
“I didn’t think it would be necessary,” Nero replied. “We had no idea that you were working with her. If I’d known I would have had someone contact you and warn you.”
“Well, it’s a bit late to worry about that,” Nathaniel said. “Now we have to try and find where exactly she built this thing. It was designed to house murderers and psychopaths, the worst scum of the earth. The fact that she’s keeping children there turns my stomach. We may not see eye to eye on many things, Maximilian, but I will help you stop her. It changes nothing between us, but the fact that those children are being imprisoned in such appalling conditions is partially my fault and that is a mistake I intend to put right.”
“All of which, unfortunately, leaves us no closer to discovering Furan’s location,” Nero said with a sigh.
“Actually,” Otto said with a wry smile, “that’s not entirely true.”
He pulled the Disciple communications and tracking device from his pocket, placing the metal cylinder on Nero’s desk.
“What’s this?” Nero asked with a frown.
“That’s the communicator that Gretchen contacted Furan with and then used to guide the Disciple gunships to our location.”
“And you brought it here?” Nero said, sounding alarmed.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Otto said. “I’m jamming it. It’s still transmitting, but as long as I’m here and conscious it’s not actually sending a signal home.”
“How reassuring,” Nero said.
“I’m not stupid,” Otto replied. “I understood the risk of bringing it here, but it may be the only way we’ll find the Glasshouse. Let me . . . let us . . . explain. One second.” Otto pulled the small silver disc from his other pocket and placed it on Nero’s desk next to the Disciple device. A moment later H.I.V.E.mind’s head materialized, floating in the air above it.
“Good afternoon, Doctor Nero,” H.I.V.E.mind said calmly. “It is good to see you again.”
“H.I.V.E.mind, can you tell us how long it would take us to decrypt the Disciple carrier signal using conventional means?” Otto asked as H.I.V.E.mind’s hovering head turned to face him.
“The signal employs biphasic quantum encryption. I calculate that using the full processing capacity of H.I.V.E.’s systems it would take nine years, three months, one week—”
“Okay, we get the idea,” Nero said impatiently. “So how does this help us?”
“Because we’re going to use more processing power,” Otto said. “It’s going to take a few hours to set up and I’ll need to speak to Professor Pike about some of the details, but I think there’s a way we can crack their code in a matter of hours. Once we do, it should be relatively straightforward to work out exactly where this thing is trying to transmit its location to.”
“And you believe that’s the Glasshouse,” Nero replied, staring at the device on his desk.
“Yes, though we can’t be sure until we crack the code,” Otto replied. “If I’m wrong, it’s back to square one. If I’m right, it might be us catching Furan by surprise for a change.”
“If we do find the facility’s location, we’ll need to have an assault plan in place,” Raven said, turning toward Nathaniel. “Presumably the blueprints for the Glasshouse were lost when your studio was destroyed.”
“Yes, but I have a copy,” Nathaniel replied, tapping the side of his head. “I’ll need a drawing board and some pencils and paper.”
“I can provide you with access to a full suite of CAD and visualisation software if you require it,” H.I.V.
E.mind said.
“No, I most certainly do not require it,” Nathaniel replied, sounding offended. “Amateurs use computers, a professional doesn’t need them. Just find me somewhere quiet to work.”
“As you wish,” H.I.V.E.mind replied with a nod. “I will need to be transferred back to my datacore in order to work at peak efficiency.” He turned to Otto. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Otto said, grinning. The organic supercomputer in his head was unbelievably powerful for its tiny size, but it would be much more efficient for H.I.V.E.mind to move back into the school’s system for now. “I’ll head down there now and you can transfer over.”
“Good,” Nero said. “It sounds like we have a plan of action. Natalya, will you escort my father to one of the spare teachers’ offices and provide him with whatever he needs. Keep me updated on your progress.”
Raven nodded and gestured for Nathaniel to follow her.
“Mr. Malpense, you will be needing this if you’re going to be staying here for a while.” Nero walked over to a tall cupboard on the far wall and pulled out a black jumpsuit, the distinctive uniform of a H.I.V.E. Alpha stream student, from inside.
“I seem to remember that we told everyone that I’d been expelled,” Otto said.
“Then I expect you’ll want to tell your friends of your reinstatement in person,” Nero said, handing the uniform to Otto. He tapped something into the terminal on his desk. “They have just finished their final lesson of the day. I expect they’ll be heading back to their quarters.” He picked up the Disciple device from his desk and passed it to Otto. “You have work to do, of course, but I’m sure it can wait for an hour or two. Dismissed.”