A buffet had been laid out in the nearby stables restaurant and people ate as and when they pleased. Little groups wandered around the armoury, its walls thick with the deadly weapons of two hundred years ago; others preferred to linger amongst the columned elegance of the spectacular oval staircase. With the arrival shortly afterwards of Nan Rice, Warden of All Souls College in Oxford, who turned up in a battered old Ford Escort, the Inner Circle of the Temple of Celestial Truth was at last complete.
Because time was short, the meeting began almost immediately. The Circle had dressed in the long, black, Mandarin-collar robes which they used for formal occasions. Only Tati alias Jesus had an additional adornment, a pendant in the form of a silver Earth symbol — a cross within a circle — hanging from his neck. He was a small, stout man of about fifty with a neat, grey beard and short grey hair. A large Bible and a Pepsi were on the table in front of him.
Tata, the human transfiguration of the woman clothed with the sun and with the moon under her feet, and companion of Tati, sat next to him at the end of the table. She was tall, in her thirties, smooth-skinned and with hair swept back in a bun. She had dark, watchful eyes and a broad, somewhat lascivious mouth. Amongst the faithful, celibacy was encouraged, but there was also a discreet understanding that rank hath its privileges.
The windows of the big conference room were lashed by an Atlantic storm, and the flames in the open fire leaped and flickered in the draught. The Brothers faced each other around a square of polished oak tables littered with carafes of water, and Seven-Ups and Cokes.
'Perhaps Shin Takamara would be good enough to report on our Far Eastern concrete project.'
Shin Takamara was small, sixtyish, with a near-bald head and over-large spectacles. He had a gentle, scholarly air, and he spoke modestly, but with an undertone of quiet pride. 'I am pleased to report that we have made an excellent start. Our pilot trial, as you know, took place in Seoul in the nineties. There we induced a builder to use our sub-standard concrete in the construction of an apartment store. As you know it collapsed with the loss of five hundred lives.'
'A fine achievement,' Jesus agreed.
'How did you get round the quality-control inspectors?' The question came from Ricky Ross, the West Coast American.
Takamara smiled slightly: the American was new to the group and still learning. 'It's much cheaper, in the Korean context, to bribe an official than it is to pay for high-quality concrete. Economic arguments have a powerful influence in the tiger economies.'
'He accepted a bribe knowing that the store could collapse?' the American asked.
Takamara explained patiently. 'The concrete we used was sub-standard, but not enough to make either owner or official believe that the store would fall down. The safety margin was simply shaved away. And our engineers made sure that the air-conditioning design was inadequate for the hot Korean summer. Then, when the store changed hands a few years later, the new owners installed a new air-conditioning unit on the roof. They knew nothing about the weakened concrete. Once the unit — a thousand tons of metal — was on the roof, it was only a matter of time.'
'Not only a fine achievement, but untraceable to us.' Jesus expressed his satisfaction.
'In the last year we have created over a hundred high-rise apartments in Korea and Taiwan in a similar condition. They will all start to collapse within a few months of each other. The scandal may bring down governments.'
'Splendid. Now, our brother from Western Europe.'
Herr Bund, a stooped, middle-aged man, addressed the table. He spoke in BBC English. 'Our infiltration of Aryan supremacy groups is beginning to pay off. All they really needed was intelligent leadership. We have already incited race riots in Austria and Germany. The actual loss of life has so far been small, but a wonderful climate of fear is beginning to spread through many districts of our major cities. Give it another year and I expect the spectre of a fascist revival will begin to dominate the agenda of the European Union.'
'Congratulations, Brother Bund, to you and the West European chapel. We will follow developments with great interest.' Herr Bund smiled his satisfaction, and Jesus Christ turned to a small, weak-chinned man. 'What about the Irish question, Brother McElvaney?'
'The situation needs very little help from us. We have decided that our best course is just to stand back and let it run. We don't even need to advise on channels for the delivery of weapons and Semtex.'
Jesus frowned. 'It is not part of our philosophy to stand back and do nothing. There is no situation so bad that it cannot be made worse with judicious effort. Can't you develop it further? Perhaps even foment a civil war between north and south?'
McElvaney gulped nervously. 'We did look into such a scenario. It involved creating a series of escalating tit-for-tat outrages attributed to each other's security services.'
'Take it from the shelf, Brother, dust it down and revive it; who knows where it might lead? Let us have a detailed plan by our next meeting. And now, the United States?'
Ricky Ross could hardly contain himself. 'Of course my country is a rich source of resources for our purpose. The gun problem has spiralled out of control; crime impinges on every aspect of life; there are countless racial, economic and cultural tensions; the drug problem is overwhelming all segments of society; there is almost no sense of social cohesion; there are many small religious or backwoods groups isolated from the rest of society and hostile to federal government or any government at all.'
'A rich brew,' Jesus agreed. 'And what are you doing with it? I note there have been a few high-profile bombings.'
'I regret that my West Coast chapter can't claim credit for them. But we are spreading our message. We have already, on the internet, circulated simple cookbook recipes for creating deadly nerve gases. Our immediate hope is to repeat the Aum Shinri Kyo Tokyo subway attack, without the errors in preparation and dispersal of the sarin gas which the Supreme Truth made.'
Shin Takamara said, 'Only eleven passengers were killed, although five thousand were injured.'
'But according to expert testimony to the US Senate, if the Supreme Truth had done the job professionally, thousands would have died,' Ross said enthusiastically.
'What do you have in mind?' Jesus encouraged him.
'Simultaneous attacks in all the major cities with subway systems. I already have a team of chemists in a ranch west of LA preparing the botulism aerosols and sarin gas. We're using hobos and drifters to calibrate the lethal toxin count.'
'I am impressed,' Jesus said. 'The Americans are a young and energetic people. The speed of your spiritual enlightenment is an inspiration to us all.'
Ricky Ross acknowledged the compliment with a broad grin.
'And now, Brother Voroshilov?'
A small, gaunt, grey-faced man nodded. His accent was hardly recognizable as that of an East European. 'With respect to my West Coast Brother, we have achieved far more in my country. In America you are plagued by specialist agents, not least the FBI. Your military machine is under control. Your judiciary is independent and more or less uncorrupt. Our judiciary and bureaucracy, on the other hand, have been almost totally subverted. And our co-operation with criminal power has been an overwhelming success, creating the greatest threat to our peace and economy. The fiscal crisis, which we have at least partly engineered, is undermining the maintenance of our strategic nuclear forces and making criminals out of our most able generals and admirals.'