Amidst the falling dust (The Green and Pleasant Land) by Oliver Kennedy
Authors: Oliver Kennedy
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the lift that will take us down to two hundred feet below the ground to Pendragon Systems state of the art global command centre. A circle of light falls down upon the open sided lift that appears to be just a part of the floor. The light is directed down by a series of cleverly designed mirrors from the pinnacle of the structure to here.
I usher my companions to stand within the silver circle before going to the operation console. I type in my password. I allow my retina to be scanned. I press my palm against the hand scanner.
'Welcome Patrick Redmayne, how may I help you?'
“We want to go down Shiva” says I to the automated building control AI.
“Of course” replied the metallic sounding female voice. “What killed Arthur?” it asks.
“Pride” I say before stepping onto the silver disc as it begins to lower into the floor. Trowler looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “A final line of defence, if I am compromised and somehow an infiltrator is able to get me to activate the lift. Pride is the default answer, in the event of a situation then I tell Shiva a sword killed Arthur”.
“What happens then?” asks the sergeant.
“Fifty high powered injectors fill the lift lobby with non-lethal, knock-out gas within zero point eight seconds. This renders anyone in the lobby unconscious”. A few seconds of silence pass before Tasker speaks. “What if they're wearing gas masks?” he sounds genuinely intrigued and it's the first time he's spoken to me without sounding like he addressing something being scraped from his shoe.
“The gas isn't something that you will have heard of before, it can affect you through your skin and is pumped in at such high pressure and speed that it will soak in through the clothing almost as quickly as it would get in to the lungs.” This is food for thought. The journey down takes a couple of minutes and I know as military types they are mulling over this new found weapon that I have unveiled.
“Was this something that the UK military had access to?” asked Sutton.
“Not yet” comes my reply as the lift enters the disembarkation lounge. There are things I know which I can share with no other, I have come close a few times. Fortunately the end of our journey is a welcome distraction which ends any further questioning. What the armies of the world often failed to understand is that they were just clients and customers. We built this stuff, we created the demons, they simply unchained them.
We walk down a short corridor and out onto a balcony which overlooks the command centre. “Shiva, illuminate”. There are several gasps. The command centre is a large underground dome which is nearly a thousand feet in diameter. There are hundreds of screens, some of them sit in small individual consoles, some of them are nearly thirty foot wide. This was the nerve centre, this is where Pendragons board monitored the world, electronic surveillance, drones, satellites, undercover operatives.
Pendragon Systems was a company built on war, on discord and chaos. They didn't sell people multi billion pound armies in order for them to sit around domestic bases and play tiddlywinks. The company made its money from conflict, so wherever conflict was found there would be the crimson sword and the mailed fist. Such a presence requires a great deal of money, and a great deal of organisation. Hence, the command centre.
At the centre of the dome there is a raised area surrounded by thick blue glass. It is here we head. The arrogant part of me has surfaced now I am in more comfortable territory. I tell myself that the silence of my comrades is because they are in awe of this place, in awe of what we built.
The Core houses the primary control boards and it is from here that I begin the lengthy process of trying to establish a satellite uplink. The worry which has dogged me is beginning to fade, I feel less and less like the deceiver, the building still had power, which meant that other things were
I usher my companions to stand within the silver circle before going to the operation console. I type in my password. I allow my retina to be scanned. I press my palm against the hand scanner.
'Welcome Patrick Redmayne, how may I help you?'
“We want to go down Shiva” says I to the automated building control AI.
“Of course” replied the metallic sounding female voice. “What killed Arthur?” it asks.
“Pride” I say before stepping onto the silver disc as it begins to lower into the floor. Trowler looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “A final line of defence, if I am compromised and somehow an infiltrator is able to get me to activate the lift. Pride is the default answer, in the event of a situation then I tell Shiva a sword killed Arthur”.
“What happens then?” asks the sergeant.
“Fifty high powered injectors fill the lift lobby with non-lethal, knock-out gas within zero point eight seconds. This renders anyone in the lobby unconscious”. A few seconds of silence pass before Tasker speaks. “What if they're wearing gas masks?” he sounds genuinely intrigued and it's the first time he's spoken to me without sounding like he addressing something being scraped from his shoe.
“The gas isn't something that you will have heard of before, it can affect you through your skin and is pumped in at such high pressure and speed that it will soak in through the clothing almost as quickly as it would get in to the lungs.” This is food for thought. The journey down takes a couple of minutes and I know as military types they are mulling over this new found weapon that I have unveiled.
“Was this something that the UK military had access to?” asked Sutton.
“Not yet” comes my reply as the lift enters the disembarkation lounge. There are things I know which I can share with no other, I have come close a few times. Fortunately the end of our journey is a welcome distraction which ends any further questioning. What the armies of the world often failed to understand is that they were just clients and customers. We built this stuff, we created the demons, they simply unchained them.
We walk down a short corridor and out onto a balcony which overlooks the command centre. “Shiva, illuminate”. There are several gasps. The command centre is a large underground dome which is nearly a thousand feet in diameter. There are hundreds of screens, some of them sit in small individual consoles, some of them are nearly thirty foot wide. This was the nerve centre, this is where Pendragons board monitored the world, electronic surveillance, drones, satellites, undercover operatives.
Pendragon Systems was a company built on war, on discord and chaos. They didn't sell people multi billion pound armies in order for them to sit around domestic bases and play tiddlywinks. The company made its money from conflict, so wherever conflict was found there would be the crimson sword and the mailed fist. Such a presence requires a great deal of money, and a great deal of organisation. Hence, the command centre.
At the centre of the dome there is a raised area surrounded by thick blue glass. It is here we head. The arrogant part of me has surfaced now I am in more comfortable territory. I tell myself that the silence of my comrades is because they are in awe of this place, in awe of what we built.
The Core houses the primary control boards and it is from here that I begin the lengthy process of trying to establish a satellite uplink. The worry which has dogged me is beginning to fade, I feel less and less like the deceiver, the building still had power, which meant that other things were
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