Since then the SACRED system had been purged and additional security measures installed. It was once more considered to be worthy of its former flagship reputation. The rigorous overhaul had even satisfied the government of Orient. The new accord between the two superpowers resulted in a phenomenal increase in customer base for the Iberian corporation. It also worried Pierze insofar as there was now another potential tributary open to corruption.
Osvaldo Martinez had spent all of the four years of his confinement in the pursuit of resurrecting the cult. Despite his conviction and sentence, he still had human rights and one of these rights was access to the absolute fortune he had made as a co-owner of SACRED. It was legally argued that if the wealth accumulated by the other two owners was legitimate, then so was his. One of the first things he did was to instruct his many visitors to keep him apprised of the dispersed brotherhood. He then set about authorising his shareholding in SACRED to be sold to the other two stockholders. The vast funds were then broken up and dispersed several times into untraceable accounts, mainly in Swiss-Iberia, and in proxy names. Having established the means, he began to introduce his ‘currency’ to the prison environment, and quickly established control of the inmates, then many of the staff. It took the best part of two years to get the funds appropriated to the reformation structure of the Sidonia cult. The research was also underway and his escape was now in the planning stage. Once on the outside again he would need to alter his appearance, voice characteristics and even undergo certain genetic modifications, to truly create a different person. When this was all in place he would once more change his name to sever all connection to his past.
The explosive charges which had been planted around one corner of the outer prison wall, completely opened up the courtyard, and caused absolute panic in the ranks of the guards, except for those who had been recruited by Martinez, with a promise of a lucrative life within Sidonia. In the midst of the chaos at the breach point, many prisoners were let out as an additional distraction. Some got through the cordon, others were shot. Martinez was provided with a guard’s uniform and was accompanied by his select band of new Sidonians to the flat roof, where they were whisked away by the circling helicopter, decked in bogus police livery.
The news of the breakout was patched through to Pierze and his overtures to Manuel Salina now had concrete purpose. Even though not imminent, the threat was back.
Chapter 1
The reconfiguration of Osvaldo Martinez had commenced, now that the various authorities admitted he had simply vanished into thin air. The years he had spent in prison had been productive in the sense that he had still managed to sculpture the new headquarters and hierarchy of Sidonia. The research facility was unparalleled in both personnel and investment. He had ensured that a much stricter profiling programme was instituted for full membership of the cult this time. He was still scarred by the experience he had in discovering that the former leader tried to save his own skin, by becoming an informant for Pierze. Because Martinez had personally killed this ‘gutless coward’, the remaining members of the cult were able to evade capture. This had been his constant motivation to complete the resurrection, which was now underway.
*
Ricardo Pierze was in a contemplative mood as he awaited the arrival of Manuel Salina. He reflected on the huge slice of luck which brought down the cult four years ago, and how such suppression of information was never going to be an option now. The public outcry which was precipitated by leaks within Central Security had seen to that. It had been the policy to bury any hint of just how close the cult had come to achieving its objective. This knowledge fermented and spawned a new era of openness in such matters. It was extremely unhelpful to Pierze, but ‘Manna from Heaven’ for Martinez.
Manuel had been delayed. His flight from Londonis to Madrid had been subject to a technical fault. He was brought up to date with the escape of Martinez. Most people had forgotten he had changed his name and missed the connection, and Central Security would be forced to remind them. “Manuel, it’s good to see you after all this time, but the circumstances could have been better. We have no idea where he is, who helped him to get out, or what will happen next. The only thing we can be certain of is that his agenda will be unchanged. In the four years since his arrest we have not apprehended a single member of the cult.” Manuel was included in the majority who had temporarily forgotten the association of the name Martinez with Sidonia. He had always and deliberately remembered only his original name – Constantin Boniek.
“How could they let this happen? It’s not as if he was ever going to reform, he told them that himself! I must say Ricardo that I initially had no intention of coming back here, let alone enlisting in your project. I have a very good life in Londonis now, my private investigation agency is thriving and my mother is happier than at any time in her life. However, I agree with you, Sidonia has to be eliminated otherwise everything we achieved was for nothing. The evil which Mart…, no damn it, Boniek represents, requires total eradication this time. I suppose we can rule out another scourge coming through SACRED. It is much more tightly controlled, Futureworld was scrapped, and anyway Boniek will want to avoid past mistakes – unlike our prison service.”
Pierze was relieved that Manuel had already taken the gravity of the situation on board. “Are you and Elle Butragueno still er.. friends?”
Manuel smiled as he nodded. “Of course, but we still live separately. We decided it was best for our careers as well as our relationship. It seems to work at present, but there will come a time when we want other things. How about Duarte, is he still helping you out?”
Pierze buzzed his secretary and Maxi Duarte strolled into the room. It was quite an emotional reunion. “I hope you are taking good care of my favourite police officer Manuel, how is she?”
Manuel gave him a letter from Butragueno. “She said it was private, so you tell me when you’ve read it. I don’t want to seem rude Maxi, but do you really need more of this Boniek stuff?”
Duarte asked for coffee and replied, “None of us do Manuel; it just has to be dealt with. I hope it isn’t going to be too time-consuming Ricardo, as my boy is on the verge of the Madrid first team squad and I want to enjoy his first, enthusiastic years for the game while the money is still secondary.” They spent the rest of the day sketching the potential ‘battlefield’, knowing it would have to cover threat of new technology and a new executive structure of Sidonia.
*
Martinez was indeed intent on avoiding past mistakes. He had thought this through very carefully during his incarceration. Using a government department for too many aspects of the plan had in retrospect been a weakness. He felt that the previous hierarchy, being overpopulated with Central Security personnel and other civil service freeloaders, was fundamentally flawed. He did however recognise that some mass communication technology would be fundamental in priming the millions of subjects required to cause the government to implode. He felt that the only other way was for some almost evangelical revolution to emerge, but this was unlikely. The location of the research and operational headquarters had also been a key decision. It had resulted in the chosen facility potentially delivering an option for an obscure inroad to the mass communication industry.
While in prison his already active senior cult figures had used his laundered capital to purchase shares in a major technology supplier to the communication industry. The company wanted to expand their share of the market in Orient, and this was convenient, as it fitted with another requirement for Martinez. Over a period of thirty months he had steadily increased the share of equity in this company in small steps. It finally gave him the platform to cleverly stimulate a clandestine hostile bid from another big player, and the board of directors was only too happy for him to acquire a controlling interest. The board preferred the devil they knew, only to be later relieved of their positions in an orderly but unalterable fashion. The procedure was of course fronted by proxy investors. Martinez wanted to build
on the good reputation of the company before embarking on the transformation of his identity. This would give time for Pierze to sweat, and for the diversion of resource to his secret research.
The proxy investors were his two most trusted cult members, who would now turn their attention to quietly extending the recruitment drive. This had to be finely tuned to the anticipated growing influence over the masses. Martinez was as confident in his strategy for this, as he was about his own ‘conversion’ to another person.
*
Pierze introduced Viktor Lopez to the meeting. Manuel and Duarte knew him as the instrument through which Sidonia had indoctrinated the users of Futureworld. He had been abducted and installed in a secure underground technology centre, and his unique expertise in directed neurogenic emission was the cornerstone of the subversion of individuals exposed to the ‘treatment’. He had been working on all manner of possible technology threats since being rescued by Pierze. The problem lay in predicting which new breakthroughs could lend their primary function to adaptation for sinister purpose. Lopez described it aptly. “It is a bit like trying to predict when a sleeping volcano will become angry or even worse – simply become the worst natural disaster in history.” He presented some of the things he’d been working on and many provoked raised eyebrows for the audience of three. The meeting ended with the agreement that they were in observation alert mode, and they would re-convene every month unless the circumstances dictated otherwise.
*
The transmogrification of Martinez was an intensive and intrusive process, including genetic alteration procedures to evade DNA checks. The recovery from the procedures took much longer than the setting up of his new identity papers. Lionel Zara came into being on the 18th of August 2027, and this would become the timeline to which several future events could be retrospectively traced. So different was his appearance that his first meetings with anyone other than his two trusted aides would be a charade. The participants would be told that Martinez had head-hunted and installed Zara as the new chief executive. The plan was that Martinez would become a recluse and never be seen or heard of again. Zara desperately wanted to get up to speed with all avenues of research in order to devise a critical path to the decision to initiate trials on real people. It would require procurement of people who would of necessity have to die, whether or not the tests were successful.
*
Olga Assante was overjoyed with her birthday present. It was just one of many to mark her eighteenth anniversary, but she was obsessed with it. Not everyone had the latest ‘think-phones’ and she would let most of them know that. It had all the usual facilities for those in a hurry to complete tasks, but she liked the more challenging aspect of concentrated thought to execute the same chores, and she was very proficient at it. That was the root of her obsession, and even if others had the device, they may not be capable of rendering the keyboard as one such obsolete feature. It truly was mind over matter.
Frederic Moreno ran a blue chip ‘managed fund’ financial investment company. It was a juggernaut amongst such institutions. He was so impressed with his recently acquired technology, that he included a proficiency test with it, as part of the interview format, for new recruits. He claimed that if candidates couldn’t tap the benefits, the way he had taught himself to do, they were unlikely to excel at the position on offer. Broadcasting this openly within his staff had many of them worried about their future, even those conducting the interviews.
Patrick Kipketer, as an Olympic gold medallist, had a very busy schedule. He wasn’t just running at events all over the world, but had to fit in advertising endorsements for his sponsors. He had an agent of course, but still had to be available for contact virtually all of the time he was not asleep. It was however not always convenient to reply in the middle of a training run. After all, it was his running feats which had made him rich, and in demand as a consequence. If he was to continue in this vein, his running had to come first. He had taken to this new technology immediately; it gave him so much freedom and had such a calming influence.
*
By spring of 2028, Zara had increased the stake in his chosen technology company to 77%, thus avoiding power of veto from minority shareholders, and although it was registered within one of many holding companies, he very much wanted anonymity. He would not further increase the equity for another six months, as other elements had to be in place first. One was the perfection of the research on his new brainchild, and the unexpected U-turn he made with respect to evangelism. Having dismissed this at an early stage of his master plan, he now believed it had perfect synergy with the product under development. He wanted a dispersed and uneven geographical approach with the genesis of the new faith, and this meshed well with the research hub being fronted by a legitimate technology business. This business shield now had a name – Cerberus Enterprises Corporation. It had been adopted after careful consideration, being believed to serve many purposes. The ancient Greeks often depicted Cerberus as a three-headed hound which guarded the gates of Hades, to prevent those who had crossed the river Styx, from ever escaping. The balance of symbolism and strategy appealed to Zara. Sidonia was now effectively controlled by three people. The gates of Hades were represented by the legitimate business camouflaging the hell which would be unleashed by the clandestine work of the research arm. No escape meant Sidonians signed up for life, with death upon betrayal ensuring adherence to the mission. Zara’s arrogant nature twinkled when the name itself could possibly attract attention, which would subsequently stand up to scrutiny in every way, while breeding the alien venom.
*
The exceptionally hot summer of 2028 heralded the first experiment. Alberto Simone was enjoying the gentle night breeze while walking home from a fraternity gathering. Even though the temperature was still twenty-one degrees Celsius, the perception of headwind gave tangible respite from the afternoon cauldron. This heat wave was into its second week, but it was still only mid-July, and worse was expected in August. The outskirts of Bilbao were not the safest place in which to indulge in solo-perambulation. It would have been reported as a poor choice by the prey perhaps, but an excellent one for the predator. There was to be no corpse, so that judgement would simply never occur. It would merely be yet another missing person, and get lost in the morass of similar cases in that particular suburb. The park provided good cover for the operatives to tranquilise the subject remotely with a dart, and drag him into the bushes before signalling the transportation to collect the ‘goods’.
Having isolated Simone in a windowless, locked room, they observed him from a hidden camera while he recovered, and tried to rationalise where he was, and why. After a few minutes he picked up a device which seemed to have been strategically placed on some papers to avoid the only other visible object in the room – a fan, from blowing them around. Despite shouting, knocking on the walls and hammering on the door for a protracted period, there was no response. Eventually he began to examine the device to determine its real purpose. After pressing a couple of buttons a screen came to life. He noticed there was no form of guide or instruction, only pictures. He soon returned it to its function as a paperweight. Immediately he did this, a cavity in one of the walls was revealed as a panel slid open. At first it seemed to house only a bundle of flex, but on closer approach it resembled a headset of some kind. He paused, stroked his chin in a gesture of concentration and suddenly began looking for signs of a camera. A smile fluttered slowly over his face, and he shouted, “Ok, it’s a game, give me a signal to confirm I’m right.” The lights flickered off and on again. “Do I take that as a yes?” The same thing happened. “You want me to put on the headset?” The on/off occurred for a third time. When he put on the headset he waited but nothing happened. After a couple of minutes he asked another question. “If I continue to get the flicker, do I get out of here?” It was confirmed.
He sat down and began to think about the situation. Another reflex smile accompanied him picking up the device agai
n. Having switched it on he waited for audio contact, but it didn’t come. It took longer than the observers expected for him to notice the headset could be connected to the device. He had failed the first real test. When he had connected the two he was a little disappointed that nothing appeared to happen. Suddenly the screen altered from randomly aligned coloured tiles making up a three dimensional cube, to one of total order, with each side only showing one colour, then it reverted to the random display. Only then did it occur to him that this photonic representation of a twentieth century ‘Rubik’s Cube’ was the puzzle. His confidence soared but was then dashed when he got frustrated that he could not find any buttons which enabled him to move the tiles around. He was in danger of failing the second test when it came to him. He put down the device and simply stared at the screen intently. Instead of trying to move the tiles he focussed his concentration on changing their colour. He began to see a red one wavering between yellow and red. He shaded his eyes with his hands so that they could see nothing but the screen. The tile turned yellow and then back to red. Heavier concentration and a deliberate mental effort locked it on yellow. Laboriously, he repeated the process on all tiles on that side of the cube. With the second side, he actually grasped the opportunity to de-focus with respect to individual tiles and increase the concentration on the entire side. It locked green. When he had completed the task, he again asked the question, “Do I get out now?” Instead of the lights flickering, he felt a spasm. It was more uncomfortable than painful, but then the door slid back and two figures in laboratory attire led him out and sat him in a comfortable looking chair. His demands to know what the hell was going on were answered only by another screen which was wheeled in from one side. One of the lab men informed him of a second test. His protest was silenced by automatic restraints binding him into a fixed attitude to the screen. His heart rate went up when another device was lowered from the ceiling to face him. It was a worm screw with a drill bit of at least four inches in diameter. Panic set in as he glanced at the screen and saw the screw replicated there. The device switched on, and simultaneously a group of observers entered the room with notebooks and hand-held instruments. The worm was directed at his heart and although moving slowly he thought he could ascertain it was actually accelerating. The mental turmoil was about to be overtaken by panic, but he tried to banish any thoughts except the worm on the screen. He wasn’t successful; he couldn’t resist the temptation to glance at the real worm to see if it was slowing, and attempt to assess how much time he had before it reached him. Then his mind’s involuntary acrobatics posed a question. ‘They wouldn’t let me die would they?’ He was on the verge of being convinced this was just a test, but then the vague recollection of being hit with something in the park jolted him back to the here and now. He couldn’t take anything at face value in this bizarre situation, unless he was dreaming. In a supreme effort of concentration he willed the screen worm to stop. It not only failed but the drill bit had gathered momentum and the distance to his chest was visibly reduced. The figures with the notebooks were feverishly writing and glancing at their instruments; no one was paying attention to him. The acceleration curve was now reaching a point where Simone could feel he had no more than a minute before contact. Out of the maelstrom of mental processing a picture emerged in the calm eye of his personal brainstorm. The screen worm was a perfect replica of the deadly mechanical version, including a number of small but visible touchpads. His focus was for the first time, exclusive to anything other than the pads on the screen. He had finally transported the success with the cube to the worm, the interface between the headset and the screen was the sole way to change any subordinate or connected equipment. The real worm was just a slave to that interface. Its high pitched whirring increased suddenly as he had activated speed control. He began to experience panic again, when he felt another uncomfortable surge. The second pad altered the attitude of the drill toward his face. The third pad was the power switch, and he succeeded in disabling the instrument with less than two inches separating it from his head. He didn’t give any thought to the function of the fourth touchpad. His vision was ever so slightly blurred but he thought he could hear strangely distant applause from the notebook figures. He was then plunged into blackness, but only for an instant. He could now clearly see the applauding audience but could only hear one human voice. “Welcome to the Circle of Light. Truth is the only way. Friends can share the Truth; others may only share their fate. You have taken but the first step, friend. In the next test you will make your choice.”