Zein: The Prophecy Read online

  ‘Five kilometres – that’s deeper than even the deepest mine in South Africa,’ Bailey exclaimed. He had just finished studying an engineering degree which included a mining thesis. ‘The deepest mine I have ever heard of is three point eight kilometres, at the TauTona gold mine.’

  ‘We have to go that deep to mine the zinithium,’ said Evelyn.

  ‘I’ll go.’ Tyson stepped forward. Gemma wanted to say no, stay here Tyson, but one look at his face she knew he would not be swayed. Kabel noticed the involuntary movement but didn’t comment.

  ‘If you are going, buddy, I am going,’ said Bailey, keeping his promise to himself.

  ‘I am going as well.’ It was Amelia, her jaw jutted out in stubbornness. Tyson was going to remonstrate. Amelia held up her hand as a warning to the next words Tyson was just about to utter. ‘I can help with any wounded,’ she explained. Tyson decided, correctly, that she was not going to change her mind.

  Remo looked slowly around the room, weighing up the depth of the support. Satisfied he said, ‘We leave in an hour.’ He opened the door and left the room.

  Chapter 16

  New World

  Downing Street was a hive of activity. The Prime Minister sat at his desk, his head in his hands as he looked at the list of casualties from the extraordinary events in Manchester.

  Nine thousand, eight hundred and thirty-one men, women and children dead, and nearly another eighteen thousand injured with four thousand critical.

  That was bad enough but the manner of the attack had left everyone in the country and the rest of the world numb. Everything had been caught in ‘real time’ by the cameras televising the match.

  The camera on the blimp, a floating airship above the stadium, had captured the unfolding crisis. The cameras in the stadium caught more of the horror and when that was added to the camera phones held by a cross-section of the seventy thousand plus crowd, what the world had seen had been truly shocking.

  On the internet a number of videos had been uploaded, which were now being scanned by the police and the intelligence community using the latest digital technology. Of the cameras in the stadium one video had proved the most interesting. They had captured a group of young men and women being pursued by the aliens. Two of the men and a strange creature had fought the aliens. The fight was spectacular with a hazy blue light covering some of the antagonists. When the fight was over the survivors had simply vanished from the picture. On top of this one of the young men had resembled a man who the day before had used super strength to lift a car right off its wheels to help an injured cyclist. One of the onlookers had uploaded a clip to YouTube later that day and it had spread across the internet like wildfire. The car lifter was now the number one person of interest the police were trying to find.

  Prime Minister Michael Dunstable had been briefed on this young man as he tried to coordinate the emergency services and mobilise the armed forces. He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. He was tired from the non-stop phone calls during the day fielding questions from every corner of the world.

  He picked up his pen and doodled on a pad in front of him. He had just come off a call with the permanent members of the United Nations Security Council. Even in the conflict-heavy world of politics there had been general real concern at the loss of life and all manner of support had been offered. The realisation that this was an alien attack, confirmed by the weapons they had found, meant that the world was now on high alert, national differences set aside.

  He slammed his pen down onto the desk in anger. Why us? Why kill so many?

  Michael Dunstable was newly elected and even his down to earth North Yorkshire roots did not give him immunity from the disbelief at what had happened. He knew he had cross-party support on any actions he deemed fit but that didn’t help in the slightest.

  So many people dead and injured.

  There was a knock on the door. He looked at the time. Ten past midnight on Monday morning. It would be a long time before he got any sleep.

  ‘Come in,’ he said wearily.

  In walked his Defence Minister. Victoria Kirk was a tough lady. Born into a family who had served the Armed Forces for generations, her son was even now training at Sandhurst, the primary officer training site. Victoria’s no nonsense and practical manner had been an easy fit with his values. She had dealt efficiently with the withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan and was resolute under much criticism.

  ‘Prime Minister, COBRA is ready for you,’ she advised.

  COBRA was the label for an emergency council. The name stood simply for the Cabinet Office briefing room A. All COBRA meetings were in Downing Street, within Cabinet Office buildings. In most cases COBRA was convened as part of the civil contingencies committee, which plans government responses in times of emergency. COBRA met to discuss high-priority issues that crossed departmental borders within government. Now they were faced with an emergency that was overwhelming them.

  Dunstable and Kirk walked through the melee of aides’ running back and forward with updated incident reports until they reached the briefing room. The room was packed with representatives from all emergency services, armed services and selected specialists.

  Initially he was given an update. Another twenty people had succumbed to their injuries. This included four children. The atmosphere was gloomy, almost hopeless. After thirty minutes of further updates, each one as bad as the one before, Dunstable brought his fist down onto the table.

  ‘Has anyone got something new for me? Something that explains what happened?’

  There was silence then one of the men at the back of the room behind the Department of Energy and Climate Change put his hand up nervously.

  ‘You, what is your name?’ The Prime Minister asked spotting the movement.

  ‘W-W-Walter, Walter Moore, I am a scientist with the Environment Ministry,’ the mouse-like man said as he stood up. He had a number of graphs in one hand and with his other he pushed his glasses, which had slipped down his nose when he stood up, back up to their rightful place.

  ‘Prime Minister, I am not sure this is the time or place…,’ Henry Lampole, the Minister for Department of Energy and Climate Change, started to say as he rose from his seat.

  ‘Be quiet, Henry. If this man knows anything I want to hear.’ The minister who was the target of the rebuke sat back down, his face turning a bright red.

  ‘Please continue, Mr Moore,’ said Dunstable. With that Mr Moore passed around some graphs, his hands shaking.

  ‘On Friday I was taking the end of the week temperature readings of the atmosphere. The usual readings,’ he started to rattle off the different types of readings to the group. The Prime Minister put his hands up.

  ‘Mr Moore, I am a simple man. Just give me the bare facts,’ he said, not unkindly. ‘What do these graphs tell me?’

  ‘They point to a spike in temperature and energy level in the atmosphere at a point in time.’ The Prime Minister beckoned for him to get to the point.

  ‘The spike was very much like the spike I took when the…,’ he stopped as he tried to find the right words, ‘when the alien soldiers opened fire with their tanks.’ He had their attention now.

  ‘The energy of those blasts is unlike anything I have ever seen.’

  ‘Go on,’ the Prime Minister encouraged.

  ‘It is different from nuclear power, not as powerful in totality, but as a single blow it is more powerful than any other harnessed energy,’ he said then hesitated, trying to put his thoughts into the proper context. ‘Each shot is like a concentrated sun ray,’ he concluded.

  ‘Are you saying like a death ray, like the science fiction movies?’ said the Home Secretary incredulously.

  ‘No, no, but someone has harnessed an energy we have never seen and combined it into a mechanical propulsion weapon. However, that is not the main point.’

  ‘What is the point, then, Mr Moore?’ The Prime Minister was now at a loss.

  ‘Well, when this happened on Friday in t
he atmosphere, then these types of weapons must have been the cause,’ he said slowly, trying to put his point across. He looked around the table and saw that frowns were still there. This was going to be harder than he thought!

  ‘But there was no record of any such incidents in any country,’ said the Defence Minister. Walter held his frustration in check.

  ‘Yes, Madam, that’s the point. It was not on land, but in the sky.’ There was a hush.

  ‘Let me get this straight. There was a battle, not involving us, in the skies above the Earth?’ said Charles Hamilton, the Deputy Prime Minister, who had listened quietly, as was his way. The sixty year old Charles had lived in the shadow of the younger Michael Dunstable for the last four years and his chance of becoming Prime Minister was now probably gone. He, like the other ministers, had been shocked at the atrocity in Manchester. Now this man was saying there were battles happening all over the place with no human involvement or knowledge. Incredible!

  ‘Yess-s-s, sir,’ replied Walter nervously. The Deputy Prime Minister was an intimidating intellectual figure to all who knew him.

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ the Defence Minister retorted, ‘we would have picked it up.’

  ‘Victoria, just as ridiculous as floating tanks that destroy a football stadium killing thousands of people in the space of a few minutes?’ said the Prime Minister, pointedly.

  Charles smiled; Michael’s greatest tool was his bluntness. Walter Moore took a deep breath. He thought it was now time for the more incredible element of his story. ‘I think I have a theory.’ With that he went back to his seat and pulled out his laptop.

  ‘I was able to pull together a map of the energy bursts and it threw up some interesting data.’ He connected his laptop to the projector and everyone turned to watch the high definition screen.

  ‘This was at four p.m. on Friday above the northwest of England and here is what happened in the next ten minutes.’ The screen showed a view up into the clear blue sky above Manchester. Then they could see a pattern emerge. It started as a few small flashes and then larger flashes.

  ‘As you can see all the large flashes went in one direction and increased in intensity. All converged to the same spot. Now I also studied other reports from my colleagues from different parts of Europe. He pressed a key on his laptop and four split screens came up showing the same sequence. The synchronisation on the screens was breath-taking.

  ‘You are saying that there were multiple battles above Europe by alien life forms?’ the Prime Minister said, shaken to the core.

  ‘Err, yes sir,’ Walter gasped. ‘I think there is an artificial barrier, which for some reason was not working to its full effect which enabled us to see these intense bolts of energy. The direction of the energy signals points to an attack on specific points.’ There was stunned silence.

  The Prime Minister turned to his ministers. ‘Let Mr Moore have access to all necessary information he requires. You report directly to me. Mr Moore I want you to look at what we could be facing here, and,’ Michael Dunstable looked directly at Walter, ‘well done.’ Walter only allowed himself a small smile as it was hard to take any joy from the recent tragedies.

  The Prime Minister turned to his Permanent Undersecretary. ‘Contact the President of the United States now,’ he commanded.

  Chapter 17

  The Pod

  Kabel and Gemma watched their friends get ready for the journey to Base Station Zero. It was decided that Gemma would stay behind with Kabel and see what assistance they could give to the Lower Town. Kabel had pointed out that he could provide some of his ability with the magics to augment the Outer Perimeter.

  Kabel called Tyson over to him.

  ‘You will need some protection,’ said Kabel, placing a hand on Tyson’s shoulder. He handed across one of the seckles to Tyson. ‘You will learn to use it. Treat it like an extension of your hand.’

  Tyson took the seckle and triggered the button in the handle. The weapon smoothly spread out its blades and Tyson felt the reassuring blue glow travel up to his hand. Kabel hadn’t finished.

  ‘You should also have this,’ said Kabel. He handed Tyson the pendent that their father had left in the rucksack.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Tyson, uncertain that he should accept.

  ‘I know now it was meant for you.’ The group watched in silence as Tyson accepted the pendent from the outstretched hand of Kabel and placed it around his neck. He tucked it safely into his green body armour. He thanked Kabel for the gifts and soon the small group were saying their goodbyes.

  Gemma felt torn. She feared for her brother and Amelia. Her feelings for Tyson were confused. Her attraction to him had grown but she was glad to be staying with Kabel. When she said goodbye she gave Tyson a big hug and kissed him on the cheek. Tyson was surprised and returned the hug. In addition to Evelyn and Remo they would be joined by two dozen of Lord Fathom’s personal guard. These were the best of the best. Their red hair was offset by the green armour which encased their bodies.

  Kabel and Gemma watched the force enter the main personnel lift, which was a circular metal container that would shoot down five kilometres into the depths of the Earth. There was also a larger haulage lift to bring, more slowly, the mined zinithium up to the surface. The last they saw of the group was when the door slid shut and the operator set the speed of the descent.

  Later, Kabel was stiffly walking around on the top balcony of the Palace looking down at Lower Town. Kabel’s leg was healing. The medics had given him some strong ointment and a strange tea made from pungent herbs. Within a few hours he was able to walk, albeit stiffly. He had been down to the crystal generator and had injected some of his power into the main energy source. Not enough. Not enough by far.

  ‘Is this like where you live?’ Gemma asked. She was enjoying just being near him.

  ‘No, we live in villages, which I understand from my lessons is how we live on Zein,’ he answered. ‘This..,’ he waved his hand over the sight before him, ‘is completely different.’

  Below them the high rise buildings had many small apartments built into each of the towers, which gave the eighty thousand residents of the Fathom Clan cramped but luxury accommodation. Evelyn had explained that they couldn’t spread the colony over a larger area due to their position on the seabed. They needed to concentrate their power into the Outer Perimeter Barrier to withstand the high pressure of the sea caused by the extreme depth at which the community lived.

  Energy was also required to drive the Radar Shield that prevented the humans using their radar capability to find that an alien community existed on the Earth’s sea bed.

  ‘Tell me more about Livescale,’ Gemma asked.

  Kabel told her about the River Mee, the Falls, the picnics he used to have with his sister Delilah and the low rise way the villages were built.

  ‘Why were the villages built like that?’

  ‘We were taught that it is from previous experience on Zein.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Kabel took her through one of the first lessons every child in the quadrants was taught.

  The Zeinonians had teams of robotic machines called ‘excavators’ that could build and collapse buildings quickly. They were run remotely by the skilled Tyther Clan. On Zein, due to the need to hibernate in the winter, and reflection periods, they would take down and pack away the top half of the villages so the harshness of the environment wouldn’t destroy the buildings and when summer arrived the excavators would be released and rebuild and replicate perfectly the villages as if they had never been taken down.

  ‘How can that be done?’

  ‘Centuries of practice and advanced technology, with a touch of the magics of course,’ said Kabel proudly.

  Gemma remembered a previous conversation which she had not fully understood.

  ‘You mentioned the Pod – who were they?’

  Kabel grew serious. ‘As children we were told the stories of Zein and the Pod. They were scary storie
s. If you did something wrong it was “the Pod will come for you”.’ He had goosebumps with the memory.

  ‘Who or what are they?’ said Gemma, intrigued.

  ‘They are one of the reasons why the expeditionary force went in search of a new home.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The story goes that when we first inhabited Zein the planet was infested with warlike creatures; vicious, primitive with fangs that would rip you apart and claws that had only three talons but were incredibly strong. The talons could rip through nearly any material.’ He seemed to remember something. ‘I have seen pictures of your gorillas on Earth and the members of the Pod had some similarity to this shape.’ Gemma raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘The Pod shared the planet with Changelings, who used their ability to shape shift to live a relatively normal life.’

  ‘We tried to live with both races at first and our relationship with the Changelings was good, especially in relation to the Blackstone Clan. The Pod generally kept to their breeding grounds and for hundreds of years there were no issues. Then attacks from the Pod began and grew over a period of time until they became too numerous to ignore. So a solution was put forward to the Zein Inner Council.’ Kabel hesitated and his face wore an almost guilty look. ‘The solution was to wipe them out.’ He had never really thought about it deeply before; now it seemed cruel. He continued, ‘A chemical was produced which was harmless to us and the Changelings but killed the Pod. Thousands died. The clear-up took three months as there were so many of them and we had to burn the bodies. When the stench had cleared we expanded our villages around the rivers and meadows where they had previously lived…,’ said Kabel, tailing off, a little embarrassed at the picture he was painting of his home world. Gemma, albeit a little taken aback by the brutality, was mesmerised by the story.

  Kabel realised he needed to finish the story he had started. ‘However, we hadn’t killed the entire Pod. What we didn’t know at the time is that they acted with a hive mentality. There was a Pod queen safely hidden somewhere deep within the planet. We didn’t notice anything at first but over a decade the attacks, initially on our children and then adults, began again.’ Kabel found this element of the story very emotional. He controlled his emotions, curtailing his protective shield from activating.