A Sacred Storm (6 page)

“Because I was perilously close to dying, that's why?” said Stratton.

“So what?” said Grady. “I wasn't going to shoot
you
was I? In fact it would have been better for you if Jennings and I had found you earlier.”

“If you'd have used your gun and killed somebody then it would have been over for me, and maybe for you as well.”

“Why?” said Grady. “I don't understand.”

“Because I'm linked in with your consciousness. I'm linked to everybody's consciousness.”

Grady raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“When I came back from the dead it wasn't without its conditions. In essence my health and energy is linked to your thoughts and actions, everybody's thoughts and actions.”

“Okay,” said Grady, as if humouring a madman. “Go on.”

“It's like this,” Stratton continued. “Mankind is at a critical point in its history. It's balanced on a fulcrum between light and oblivion. What we do now will determine our fate forever. Our spiritual consciousness is at its apex. Every choice we make now, however small, will affect the way forward. Any act of violence, or hatred, or revenge will take us into the dark. Conversely, any act of kindness, selflessness, or compassion, will take us into the light. Every day we're getting closer and closer to the point of no return.”

“So you're a kind of spiritual barometer,” Jennings interjected.

“It's slightly more complicated, but yeah, that's basically it. Are you with it, Grady?”

“Yeah, of course. So if Jennings and I had shot those guys then it would've taken away more of your energy.”

“That's right.”

“Fair enough, Obi Wan, but what about those fuckers torturing us? Isn't that worse. Why didn't that affect you?”

“Good question,” said Stratton. “It's because they're already in the dark, Grady. You and Jennings are still part of the light, and to stay part of it you have to lay down your fears. It's much easier to go from light to dark than the other way round. If you react to the darkness you'll become it.”

Grady grunted. “It's all very well you saying this, Stratton. But what am I supposed to do – just let myself be killed. If some mother's trying to kill me then I'm going to defend myself. It's a natural reaction.”

“I know it is,” said Stratton. “But you've got to unlearn it. Instead of reacting, just bow to them, just surrender.”

“What if they can't be reasoned with?” said Grady. “What if I surrender and they shoot me in the head anyway? I'm not going to let that happen.”

“But it might not happen. It's all about fear. You shoot them because you're afraid they're going to shoot you.”

“Maybe. The bottom line is – I don't want to die. And neither does anybody in their right mind.”

“So you're afraid of dying. It's fear again.”

“I wouldn't say I'm afraid of dying. I'm just saying that given the choice I'd prefer to live. Some of us can't just flit between worlds at the drop of a hat you know. I've got a wife and unborn child to look after. What do you think, Jennings?”

Jennings continued to stare up to the heavens. “I don't think anything. Or I'm trying not to at least. I'm just enjoying the night sky.”

“Thanks for that, buddy,” said Grady.

“Listen, Grady,” Stratton started. “I'm not preaching to you, I'm just telling you the way things are at the moment. It's really up to you what you do with the information. You're a free spirit like every other being on this planet. All I'm asking is that you think about it. If we want to survive as a race then we all have to think about it.”

Grady threw some more wood onto the fire. “Why did you come back then, Stratton? You obviously had the choice. Is it that bad on the other side?”

“No, it's not. But it's not like that. It's not this side and that side. There's different levels…But that's a separate issue. I came back because I've got faith in human nature, because I believe we can pull things round. I didn't want to leave just as things were getting difficult.”

“He is a bodhisattva,” said Majami, returning with Tawhali and a pot of jungle tea.

“What's that?” asked Grady.

“It is a person who postpones their own salvation to guide others along the path of enlightenment.” He poured out five cups of the hot liquid and handed them around. “Buddha was probably the most famous bodhisattva, although not many people know that in fact Jesus was one too.”

“So you've come to save the day then?” said Grady.

“I wouldn't put it like that, Grady,” said Stratton. He blew on his cup and took a small sip of tea. “I'm here to help out, just like you are. In fact I've got less say in what happens than you do. All I am is a manifestation of good will; if the human race wants to self-destruct then there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not a king, I'm not a president, I'm not any kind of leader, and neither do I want to be. I'm a servant of man's wishes.”

“So the fact that you're alive and well is a good sign for us, right?” said Grady.

“I guess it must be,” said Stratton. “Although a lot of it's down to Majami here. His unremitting patience and kindness towards me have tipped the balance for the moment, but I don't know how long it will last.”

Jennings felt his legs cramping and got up to move around. Although he hadn't got too involved in the conversation, he had listened to every word. He understood now why Stratton had been so against the use of weaponry, and even though the memory of his torture still burned, he was pleased to have kept his promise. It did, however, pose many questions as to their future direction. He couldn't imagine how they were going to accomplish anything without using at least some force. And what if Stella was being held captive? How the hell were they going to liberate her?

The sun was setting over St Peter's square as Cardinal Desayer paced round his chambers deep in thought. The fact that Vittori was one of the hidden enemy hadn't surprised him one bit, what had shocked him was that they had copies of both the symbols and the key. Vittori had been extremely cagey about his sources, and neither he nor the mysterious Anatol had revealed how they came by the symbols. But the how was irrelevant, what to do about it was the more pressing concern.

A few minutes later Father Cronin knocked and entered the room. Desayer motioned him to sit down. Facing his boss Cronin thought that the strain was beginning to tell. “What happened with Vittori then, Your Eminence?” he asked. “I take it the news isn't good?”

Desayer shook his head and sighed. “No, the news is not good. Not good at all. Things are far worse than we imagined. Vittori is the enemy as we suspected. But what we could not have known is that he has copies of both the symbols and the key.”

“What?!” blurted a nonplussed Cronin. “How have they managed that?”

“I'm not sure about the key,” said Desayer. “But the symbols were brought in by a man called Anatol. He was Eastern European I believe. Quite a tall fellow…”

“…and skinny with sharp eyes?” said Cronin, finishing the sentence.

“Yes,” said Desayer. “How do you know?”

“I bumped into him outside here earlier on today. I thought I'd seen him before. Now I know where.”

“Really? Where?”

“He's Arman Kandinsky's right-hand man,” said Cronin. “I saw him once when I first met Arman.”

Desayer banged the desk with the palm of his hand. “So!” he barked. “Kandinsky has betrayed us! Did I not tell you this would happen?!”

Cronin jerked back at the outburst. He was unused to seeing Desayer lose his temper quite so forcefully. Avoiding the cardinal's gaze he stared at the floor and collected his thoughts. After a brief silence he said, “With respect, Your Eminence, I do not believe Kandinsky has betrayed us at all. If he wanted to get hold of the actual box he could have done so quite easily. Why make a copy of the symbols? No, Kandinsky isn't our man. Anatol is obviously working by himself. He must have been left alone with the box at some point during the voyage to India and made a copy.”

Desayer sat back chewing his lip. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense. Do you think he recognized you?”

“I hope not. It was a long time ago and I was in civilian gear. I only saw him briefly when he walked through the room we were in. I don't think he paid that much attention to me to be honest, although he seems the type that doesn't miss a lot.”

“Well, let's hope he did miss you,” said Desayer. “If he connects you to me then we are finished. How much do you think he knows about Kandinsky's dealings?”

“I don't think there's much he doesn't know,” admitted Cronin. “But I have always dealt with Kandinsky personally on his private line. He knew that we required absolute anonymity so I doubt very much if he would have mentioned names.”

“Maybe not,” said Desayer. “But I still do not like it. Whatever he knows, it is already too much. He obviously knew exactly where to come with his information.”

“Yes, that is a worry,” Cronin agreed. “But there's not a lot we can do about it now. We'll just have to work on the assumption that he doesn't know about us, and carry on from there. Perhaps you should tell me exactly what happened in Vittori's chambers.”

Desayer gave him a brief rundown of all that was said, including Vittori's praise.

“Mmm, interesting,” said Cronin when Desayer had finished. “So he thinks that your opinion will sway the other cardinals. I guess that's a good enough reason to let you in on the act. But it could also be a cover to keep you close. It's quite a heavy load to put upon someone who has no idea about symbols or energies.”

“Yes, it is,” said Desayer. “And I tried to feign as much incredulity as I could. But you are right, he could be trying to keep me close.”

Cronin's phone rang. He apologized to Desayer and moved to an ante-room to take the call. Desayer turned his chair round to the window and looked into the twilight. He felt strange now that his destiny had finally caught up with him. Throughout all his years of planning and searching, deep down he never really thought that anything would come of it. It was not that he did not believe in the sacred knowledge, it was more that he felt it would be someone else who had to deal with it. Someone in a future time. When he had first entered the Church he had been exceptionally eager, looking everywhere for signs of the symbols being found, but after a while his enthusiasm had waned, until eventually he assumed that his role in the long history of the knowledge would be much like Gabriel's: that of a tutor, breaking some young light into the secrets of the universe. So when the symbols were actually recovered it had been a shock to his unprepared system. As he watched the sun disappear into the horizon, he wondered if he still had the strength to see his mission through.

He heard Cronin return and swung back to face him.

“That was Kandinsky,” said the priest. “I left a message with him earlier to call me back.”

“And?” said Desayer.

“And, to put it mildly, he's absolutely furious. I won't repeat exactly what he said, but needless to say it was punctuated with expletives. It appears that Anatol left the submarine a couple of days ago, citing a death in the family as his reason. When I told Kandinsky about the symbols he exploded, but he calmed down eventually and apologized profusely for Anatol's betrayal. He said that he had kept the box in the safe for Stratton, and that Anatol must have taken it from there. He said he has no idea how Anatol knew who to take the symbols to.”

“Do you think he is telling the truth?” asked Desayer.

“Yes, Your Eminence, I do. And what is more, he has promised to help us in anyway he can. The first thing he's going to do is return to India to find out what's happened to Stratton and his party.”

“Is it worth it?” asked Desayer. “I would imagine they will all be dead by now.”

“Maybe,” said Cronin. “But there's always a chance that some of them will be alive. We have to find out at least. If Stratton is still alive, his knowledge of the symbols will give us more options. And besides, we owe it to them to try.”

Desayer sighed and shook his head. “Once again Father, you are absolutely right. It is you who should be sitting here making the decisions, not I. I am afraid that I am going to make a complete hash of everything. We are already in severe crisis. If I continue to make bad calls everything will be lost.”

“You have done nothing wrong, Your Eminence. You have done all you could to protect the secret. All that has happened has been beyond your control. Don't start doubting yourself now. We have to see this through to the end – whatever that may be.”

Desayer smiled. “I did get one thing right, Father – and that was hiring you. The best decision I ever made.”

There was a time when Jennings was young that an old man had come to visit. He remembered the day well. It was early in the summer holidays and his parents had popped out to do some shopping. Jennings had refused to go with them, saying that he would rather play in the garden than be stuck in a supermarket all morning, and those being more innocent days, when parents felt safe leaving a nine-year-old for half an hour, they relented and let him stay.

About five minutes after they had gone there was a ring on the doorbell. Jennings was in the middle of a game of ‘keepy-uppy', and having just hit forty decided to ignore it. As he reached fifty-five it chimed once more, breaking his concentration and forcing the ball to the ground. He let out a childish grunt and went to answer the door. In his frustration he forgot all about putting the chain on and opened it fast and wide. On the threshold stood an old man. He was dressed in a grey suit and had silver hair poking out from under the brim of a battered trilby. His face was pale and worn, but his eyes were the brightest blue Jennings had ever seen.