The storm was much fiercer than meteorologists had forecast, with the snow so thick that Marrese could barely make out the other buildings at the site. Even the lights around the perimeter of the parking lot were shrouded by the icy precipitation.
“If the subatomic collisions haven’t begun, then how could anything be happening already?” Mironov asked.
“You assume that this is simply an issue of technology, and in so doing you are dismissing the work of the Masters. Yes, the collider will open the portal, but it is the Masters who are calling the intelligent visitors on our behalf. Without them, we have simply parted the heavens for a brief moment and nothing else.”
“I trust that there is a spiritual aspect to this, and I trust your powers, but how long do you will think this will take? I’m still concerned about the authorities—”
“I need to remind you of something that’s very important,” Marrese said. His eyes darted briefly toward the Russian before turning back toward the storm. “You must prepare your men. Once the portal is established, things will begin to happen quickly, things that might initially seem very disturbing. What comes through may even appear to be menacing, but under no circumstances are they to use their weapons. Is that understood?”
Mironov frowned. “What do you mean, ‘menacing’? What exactly are we going to see?”
“That isn’t important right now. What’s important is that your men not do anything to disrupt the process once it is started, no matter how strange things may get. We cannot afford to make a mistake and alienate the very beings we have called to help us.”
A twinge of concern crossed Mironov’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? You led me to believe there would be a spectacular parting of the heavens letting in alien craft… with superior men, not unlike humans…”
“I didn’t tell you this before because I didn’t know before,” said Marrese, using a lower tone of voice. “I’ve received some visions of the arrival, recently. Perhaps, like you, I had my own opinion of what they might look like. Let’s just say that it’s not everything I imagined it would be, provided my visions were accurate.”
Mironov clenched his jaw and said, “What do you mean ‘provided my visions were accurate’? Now you’re starting to make me think—”
“Stop,” hissed Marrese. “Stop before you speak blasphemy against the Masters. Everything is still as it should be. We need to remember that these beings are not like us in any way. They don’t look like us, and they certainly don’t think like us.” He paused for a moment, allowing his anger to dissipate. “You need to realize that in the end, nothing has changed. These beings are coming here to help us. Whoever arrives tonight will be the very same people who helped our ancestors build the most amazing structures the world has ever known. These are friends… regardless of their appearance.”
“Perhaps your recent visions were a warning.”
“They were a warning,” snapped Marrese. He was irritated that the Russian, supposedly a powerful and fearless man, had suddenly gotten cold feet. “They were a warning that your men might get too trigger-happy because they hadn’t been properly prepared.” He locked eyes with Mironov. “I can’t emphasize enough that your men must show both restraint and respect when everything begins to unfold.”
Mironov was about to respond when he saw Navalny, the Serpent, approaching. The bald man was finishing up a conversation on the radio, and Mironov could tell from the expression on his face that something was amiss.
“What’s going on?”
Navalny tucked the radio inside his coat. “We just caught someone. A woman. She was armed, and it looks like the one we were following before.”
“What do you mean, ‘the one we were following before’?”
“She is…” Navalny was hesitant to bring up the failed chase across Lake Geneva, but now had no choice. “She is the one we chased by boat.”
“The one you let go. Bring her here at once. Then double the guard outside this room, and send a team out to get the rest of them. Go.”
“Yes, sir. Actually we already have a team—”
“I said to go!” shouted Mironov.
Without another word, the bald man bowed slightly, turned, and left.
“This is not good,” Marrese said once the man had departed. “Your men were sloppy at the banquet. Our plans could have come to an abrupt end right there in the river.” The former priest smiled suddenly. Nothing was going to dampen his mood. “But you were right to have her brought here. She needs to see what is about to take place. Come, let’s make sure the process has begun.”
And with that, they both strode over to the cubicle where Koehler was working. The German looked up at them as they arrived but then turned back to the screen in front of him, which had just darkened. A few seconds later, it reappeared, displaying the CERN operations home page. The background of the home page was a cutaway picture of the collider underneath the earth, and there were various icons representing the different systems that could be accessed. Koehler clicked on the one titled Operating System: Access Limited.
“You’re mad,” said VanGelder. “You’re all mad.”
As if on cue, Koehler stood up, grabbed the physicist by the shirt collar, and dumped him into the seat he had just occupied. He used a knife to cut the cuffs that bound his wrists. “Bring the system up. And don’t even think about being a wise guy. Remember that nice daughter of yours.” After bringing VanGelder out of unconsciousness, the German had shown the Dutchman pictures they had taken of his daughter leaving school in the Netherlands. The implication had been clear: if he didn’t comply with their demands, the girl would die.
And yet, the physicist hesitated for a moment, clearly aware that operating the collider in a way inconsistent with its design might endanger the lives of thousands.
The German, sensing the hesitation, pressed a pistol against VanGelder’s temple and shouted, “Now!”
VanGelder reluctantly placed his hand on the mouse. He made a few clicks, and the computer automatically ran a long list of user terms and conditions, including a detailed warning about inappropriate use.
A minute later, another login screen appeared, and VanGelder deftly entered his personal username and password in the two boxes at the top. The computer accepted his entry and then asked for CERN administrative approval in the boxes at the bottom of the screen. Realizing it was time to use the administrative information that had been taken from the CERN employee, Koehler took the flash drive out of his pocket and pushed it into the USB port underneath the desk. After a few clicking sounds, the administrative fields were automatically filled in by the software contained in the thumb drive, and the computer’s hard drive buzzed underneath the desk. A few seconds later, the screen indicated that Markus VanGelder had successfully entered the LHC operating system.
Just as VanGelder began to start the collider, Koehler grabbed him again, this time lifting him out of the seat and shoving him toward two guards.
“What are you doing?” asked the Dutchman. “I was just getting ready—”
“Did you think we’d trust you for everything?” asked Koehler, sitting back down in the chair.
“You’ve never used sophisticated equipment before,” insisted VanGelder. “And you certainly don’t realize the power that is in your hands right now; it’s power that has the potential to turn this building and others into a pile of rubble.”
“I doubt that,” sneered Koehler. “But that’s why you’re still alive, Dr. VanGelder… just in case I do run into any problems.”
Using information provided by the second flash drive that was taken from the CERN employee, Koehler moved fast through dozens of screens and protocols. Marrese watched the proceedings through squinted eyes, satisfied that they were so close to victory but a bit concerned that the German was pecking away at the keys in a reckless fashion.