The Nephilim (32 page)

Still, Diogenes was prepared for this. In fact they were probably better prepared than any other agency on Earth. In many ways this was no different to their normal activities. They did after all spend a lot of their time covering up the misadventures of the nephilim. That meant that changing records in both computers and cabinets was something they were very experienced at.

The main difference here was that there were so many to change in a very short time. And that far too many of the records they were changing were their own. And they weren't records. They were the treasures they guarded. That last one rankled as the Americans would say. The lack of sleep was one thing, and they could cope with it. But damaging the most precious documents in the world was something else entirely. People were upset.

At least she had some peace during the long days and nights spent underground.

The Spanish repository was quiet again for the most part, but then the majority of the move had been completed. Most of the ancient documents had been moved off site, and the catacombs sealed up. If anyone searched them, they would find only solid stone where once there had been doorways and stairs, despite what Benedict's record showed. What was left was only the upper level where maybe a dozen archivists were busy modifying the necessary documents to show that Benedict's copies were hoaxes. A few obvious forgeries were also being fabricated to match Benedict's records exactly.

Meanwhile, Maricia felt conflicted. She was happy to be back in Spain. This had been her home for the past decade or so, and since she knew the country she knew what needed to be done and how to do it.
And it was also a relief to finally have a way of dodging Benedict's axe. But parts of what they were doing tore at her heart. The repository was a treasure. It contained scrolls that had survived the great fire of Alexandria. This place breathed ancient. More than that, it contained knowledge that had been lost as far as the world knew, but which in reality had been preserved for thousands of years in the hope that one day it would be able to be revealed. To tamper with what was contained within was sacrilege. It was like burning down your family home. Or your church.

The others felt the same. She knew that. And so too did the Choir she hoped. Although possibly they didn't truly understand what Diogenes was sacrificing. Angels didn't have the same attachment to the past that people did. Why would they? For them this wasn't ancient history. Many of them had lived through those times. So for them it was just a part of their lives.

They weren't human. Garrick had said it, quite a few times. Others had too. But she had never really been convinced. There was a temptation to believe that because they looked human the angels were human. At least sort of. That they had human values and emotions. But they weren't human. They weren't even close to human. Perhaps that was the reason that when some of them bedded human women the result was so tragic? The humans got to see a little more of what an angel truly was, and they simply couldn't handle it. She guessed in another week or so when she was back in America she would have to tell Garrick he'd been right to say it. She hated that. Even if she was looking forward to seeing him again.

“You do know this is insane. It's desecration!”

William muttered his annoyance under his breath as he worked on a nearby bench, carefully destroying a document. Well, not actually destroying it, just damaging it sufficiently in the parts that needed to be damaged to obscure the details about the Choir that Benedict's records showed were there. The acid he was using to dab away the critical parts of the parchment had been specifically designed for the task. It was one that would leave the document looking exactly as if this was centuries old damage caused by time and poor storage. Which in turn would mean that Benedict's digital copy of the document would be labelled a forgery.

“It's genius, but verging on madness,” Maricia agreed.

Garrick's plan was an anathema to her. Here they were, setting about damaging priceless artefacts. Ruining some of their most ancient scrolls. And all so that they didn't match the copies of the documents the thief had. It would have been so much better to destroy Benedict's records. So much quicker and easier too. But the Choir would not stand for that and they were the ones in charge of the operation. That was the deal. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with Benedict's free will. If he decided to expose the documents and bring about the possible destruction of the nephilim and Diogenes, then so be it. He had to be permitted. The Choir would not interfere. They would not allow the nephilim to interfere. And now their millennia old agreement with Diogenes was being leveraged to make certain they didn't interfere either.

For the first time in her life Maricia was beginning to understand a little of how the nephilim felt, chafed as they were by the Choir's rules.

“But at least we have full records of what they said. And original copies of most of them.”

That was their only saving grace in this nightmare. Many of the ancient scrolls had been transcribed multiple times, so they had other originals. They only had to damage the single scroll that Armando Benedict had a copy of. And then of course arrange for it to be stored safely in a repository that was already being emptied out.

When the time came that the information was released and the authorities came marching in, everything would be perfect. Instead of a true repository, the authorities would find a specialist archivist's workshop where the altered parchments, scrolls and tablets Benedict had listed were slowly being authenticated and restored. And those ancient records would match exactly what Benedict's records showed – except for the parts that couldn't be revealed to the world. And when those discrepancies were checked out it would be made clear that they had never existed. It would look exactly as though Benedict had been busy altering the records to match his wild tales. Finding documents with holes in them and then filling those holes with whatever imaginative tripe he could think of as he set about his master plan. Because, thanks to their peoples' skills as archivists, they could destroy as convincingly as they could restore. Benedict would end up looking like a con man – which of course he was.

Meanwhile most of what they had was being moved. New repositories were being prepared to hold the artefacts and until they were ready the old ones Benedict hadn't discovered were being filled beyond their normal capacity. It was lucky he hadn't had complete knowledge of their organisation.

As for the databases, another team of specialists were working on them. It was lucky they had so many people gifted with computers. But that was only to be expected. Every member of Diogenes had to study both archival science and information technology. Half their staff had doctorates, and many of them were loaned out to various institutions around the world to work on various historical finds. That was how they made their money after all. Documenting, authenticating and restoring antiquities.

But not presently though. Every member of Diogenes had been recalled to help with the crisis. They had to be. It was a massive undertaking.

Where their agents had acted to cover up an event and Benedict had some record of what they'd done, the official databases were being altered and false records were being put in their place. Ones that proved they couldn't have covered anything up. It was amazing how much work there was to do. Benedict had been very thorough and their security had not been up to the challenge.

The incident her team was currently working on was one that had happened in Madrid in 2004, when a young nephilim with the gift of aura had released his talent in front of witnesses. There had been thirteen witnesses and several officers who had taken their statements, all of which Diogenes had then altered so that it looked like a street performer having a laugh. But Benedict had records of the alterations they had made, reports from their agents, and details. So now they were having to fabricate new records which completely discredited the ones he had. In this case it was mainly providing new and false travel records showing that the agents he claimed had been busy evidence tampering had in fact been in another city at the time. If and when the authorities checked they would find proof that Benedict's evidence was in fact a hoax. Yet another fraud.

By the time they were finished the thief would look like what he was; a fraudster. There was a certain irony in the situation.

“You forget that it is not the written words that matter. It is the message.”

Borien spoke up from where she was silently observing them. That was the other part of the deal that had had to be agreed to: An angel would accompany each record that they borrowed from Benedict's cache, to see that it was returned unaltered, whether it was physical or digital.

It was strange having her there. Maricia was used to having members of the Choir around. They visited often enough and there was actually something uplifting about their presence. But there was a vast difference between having them visit occasionally, and having them there constantly. Watching them. Studying them. Checking up on them. Making sure that they carried out their part of the deal precisely. For Maricia the lack of trust hurt.

“There is a value in the very antiquity of these documents too. Not just in what they say, but in what they are. The handiwork of the scribes who copied them. The detail of their writing. The manufacture of the parchment or papyrus. These aren't just records, they're works of great craftsmanship. And there are so few of them left. They are precious even for that alone,” Maricia answered her.

“Why?”

Maricia sighed. “It's a human thing.” The angel didn't understand and Maricia knew that she would never be able to explain it to her. 

“Any thought as to how much more of this we still have to do?”

That was what really mattered. Maricia had no doubt that given enough time they could do everything they needed to. They could render Benedict's plans completely harmless. But in the end it all came down to time.

“My brothers and sisters say we are half way done.”

“Thank you.”

Maricia was always polite with the Choir. It seemed the right thing to be. But having walked among the nephilim for some weeks and seeing how they chafed under the Choir's restrictions she now understood a little of why they weren't always so respectful.

“Thank you?” William piped up again from his work bench, not sounding in the least grateful. “This is not a cause for thanks. We are destroying hundreds of priceless documents when with just a single wave of her hand Borien here could take Benedict's records away and destroy them. Nothing would have to be lost. Nothing at all. This is madness!”

“But it is the deal we agreed to and we will keep to it,” Maricia told him firmly, knowing that it wouldn't satisfy him. It didn't satisfy her. In fact she was certain that no one among Diogenes was happy with what had been agreed. They were simply doing what they had to do.

And grumbling a little too loudly. More than grumbling according to gossip. There had been arguments, raised voices and foul language. Things that had no place in Diogenes.

The people of Diogenes weren't too happy with Garrick either. Not when he was the one responsible for coming up with this plan. That was the other reason she had been recalled to Spain, she suspected. Certainly she had to lead her team in their work, and this was her home. But also, as her name had been associated with his, when he had dreamed up this madness some of that insanity had been linked to her. So now she was here where her bosses could keep a closer eye on her and he was hunting Benedict back in America. Hobbling around and looking like some bizarre hospital escapee as he chased down the most dangerous man in the world with a mobile phone.

And no doubt constantly complaining about it!

His gift might make him invaluable, and one of the very few people in the world who could do what needed to be done. But it did little for his mood. Though to be fair, getting shot probably hadn't helped either.

The phone rang then, and she forgot her troubles as she snapped it up.

“Yes?”

“It's done.”

The voice on the other end was Louis, her number one in the field, and as the line went dead she knew he'd done what he needed to do without anything going wrong. Again. She breathed a small sigh of relief.

Half way done, no one caught, and no failures. It seemed too good to be true somehow, but at least it was happening. By the time they were finished she suspected her nerves would be shot. She really needed a holiday.