The Lucifer Code (39 page)

Then the ball of fire beneath him cracked into tiny fissures before it exploded in a supernova of blue-white light.

*

Minutes earlier

Running out of VenTec, holding Jake close to his chest, the first thing Fleming noticed was that the weather had cleared. There was even a streak of orange on the distant horizon. The second thing he saw was the back-up helicopter approaching from the east.

Within two minutes they were on board. The Delta Force operator who had broken his leg was already in there. He had told the Black Hawk to pick him up then come to VenTec to check for survivors.

'No one else make it?' he asked, as Fleming settled Jake into the seat between him and Amber.

Fleming shook his head.

'How about you guys?' the man asked.

Amber squeezed Fleming's hand. 'We're okay,' she said. 'We're gonna be just fine.'

'If I were you I'd get as far away from VenTec as possible. And fast,' Fleming called to the pilot.

'Hearing you loud and clear. Setting a course south for Fairbanks.'

Even as the pilot turned the chopper south Jake twisted in his seat. 'Look, Uncle Milo!'

Fleming turned in time to see what looked like a rod of white light burst up from the top of the mountain, blasting through the spider-like structure of VenTec, and piercing the darkening sky like a vertical searchlight.

Then there was a secondary explosion and the base of the brilliant white light turned to fire. Fleming guessed that the enormous energy unleashed by the exploding fireball must have released the oil trapped deep in the mountain, forming a pillar of flame that seemed for a moment to connect Heaven and Hell.

'So,' the Delta Force guy said, with a tired grin, 'we saved the world, right?'

Fleming nodded, but all he could see, as he squeezed Amber's hand and pulled Jake closer to him, was a vision of Soames stretched out on his ball of fire, staring contemptuously at him. 'Sure we saved the world,' he said quietly, ruffling a hand through Jake's hair. 'Sure we did.'

*

EPILOGUE:

Villa Ronda Jesuit retreat. North of Rome. Eighteen months later

The reception was held in one of the Society's grander summer establishments. It was a festive occasion, a celebration - not just of the appointment of the new Superior General of the Jesuits but of the broader renaissance of the Mother Church.

Guests in linen suits and ecclesiastical robes sipped drinks in the cool, arched terraces of the Palladian villa and meandered through its sun-dappled gardens.

As she straightened up from helping Jake adjust his laces, Amber nursed her round belly, feeling the new life kicking inside her. Her only regret was that her mother hadn't lived to see her first grandchild.

She thought back to when she had only half lived her life, always aware of Ariel and her own guilt, never of herself as an individual. Then she thought of her life since she and Ariel had released each other. What had her mother once said? 'We are our relationships.' She had been right, Amber realized now, both in life and in death. Looking across the gardens, she saw Fleming being beckoned to join the group gathered around Papa Pete Riga.

She thought of the quantum world, which had so occupied her life. In many ways Fleming had always been solely 'particle': individual and detached, scared of commitment, relying on the weapons of hard science and practicality to hold at bay the suffering and chaos in the world. She, on the other hand, had been 'wave': consumed by her relationship with her sister to the exclusion of any other personal attachment, reliant on her quantum work with Soames for distraction and her quest for understanding. But now that quest was over, and there was no need for distraction. Fleming and she completed each other, allowing each to be both individual and together, particle and wave, I and we. Perfect duality.

She smiled and stroked her belly again. Her work, which had been a wondrous distraction, was now only part of her life. Optrix was successful enough not to need her involvement in everything, and she'd been surprised by how easy she had found it to delegate many of her old responsibilities.

Holding Jake's hand, she watched Fleming approach Papa Pete. Her godfather was resplendent in the black robes of his new office: as Superior General of the Society of Jesus he was the head of the Jesuits, the so-called Black Pope. Fleming hadn't wanted to come to the reception, and only agreed to accompany Amber because of the debt she owed to her godfather.

Seeing Papa Pete, so proud, occasionally pausing in his conversation to acknowledge the respects of his followers, she thought of Soames's last words to Fleming. They had often discussed her former partner's stated mission to destroy religion and faith in God so that man might find true free will, but she had never reached a conclusion about him. He had been such a powerful and ultimately positive influence on her life. To her, Soames had been and always would be an enigma. And, despite all that had happened, whenever she thought of him she found it hard to feel anger or hatred for him - only sympathy.

Miles Fleming didn't entirely share Amber's philosophical outlook, but seeing her standing with Jake, he couldn't help smiling at how happy and natural they looked together. Jake had become part of their unit and Fleming no longer even felt he was honouring his promise to his brother to care for his son. Jake was part of him now, as Amber was.

In some ways his life hadn't changed much. After Soames's computer had been destroyed and the world returned to a semblance of normality, the media had tried to identify the 'saviours of civilization'. But there was such chaos in the ensuing months, and so many rumours flying around, that with the help of the FBI he had kept his and Amber's names out of the reports and returned to Barley Hall to continue the work he had started there. He had more power now that he ran the place, and his funding levels were higher, but otherwise life went on.

In other ways, however, he had been transformed. He remembered when he had tried to fight suffering not only by helping to rebuild shattered patients but also by keeping himself detached, but now, as he looked across at Jake and the woman who was about to bear his child, he realized that they represented his world. They might eventually cause him suffering but they also made him whole, gave his life meaning.

He often thought of Rob, but no longer felt the same guilt or concern for his soul. He would find out soon enough whether Rob was safe on that sunlit plane Amber had seen in her dream. Until then he would concentrate on living.

Soames still haunted him, though - and coming here today had only exacerbated this.

After the Red Pope's predicted final signs had failed to materialize, the world had breathed a collective sigh of relief. The failure of Armageddon to take place led many to dismiss the whole episode as a grand hoax, the act of an insane genius. What no one could explain, however, was how the insane genius had known what the Red Pope was going to announce. Despite numerous investigations and inquests, this had never been satisfactorily resolved.

Nevertheless, in the ensuing months millions of relieved people flocked back to the religions as if to atone for allowing the Red Pope to dampen their faith. Atheists, who had never thought of religion, now made it a priority. A huge vacuum had been left by the dissolution of the Church of the Soul Truth and there had been a backlash against new progressive ministries. People had been fooled once and didn't want to be fooled again.

One Church was suited to meet this massive demand for a return to core, stable values, a Church that had been on the verge of collapse before the Red Pope's announcement. As it flung open its doors to its prodigal flock, it dogmatically reinforced its sole ownership of the truth, laying down strict rules of worship and proudly proclaiming itself the Mother Church. In its entire fifteen hundred years of existence the Roman Catholic Church had never been stronger.

Even now, as Fleming greeted Peter Riga in his black robes of office, watching the stream of well-wishers stoop to kiss his hand, he thought of Bradley Soames's final words.

'So He sent down a second son, a darker son. Me. Not to preach good and kindness this time, but to prove once and for all that God doesn't exist. That only the Devil holds sway. Only then could mankind outgrow the shackles of religion and develop its own sense of right and wrong -true free will. After all, one can only make a truly virtuous choice when there's no promise of reward. So this is God's gift to you, to erase Himself from your consciousness.'

It was the ranting of a madman, but as he remembered seeing Soames stretched out on his ball of fire, yelling, 'You don't deserve to be saved,' Fleming shivered, despite the warm sun on his back.

After congratulating Riga, Fleming asked him a question. He purposely didn't use his title. 'Peter, did we learn anything from the Red Pope's Day of the Soul Truth?'

'Of course, Miles,' Riga said, without hesitation.

'What?'

Riga frowned as if the answer was obvious. 'We learnt that people need guidance. That they can't be trusted to find God by themselves. Like sheep, they need a strong, confident shepherd to help them see the true glory of God.'

An involuntary shudder ran through Fleming. 'And you're the shepherd?'

Riga smiled then, and his smile expressed the same beatific certainty that Fleming had seen in Accosta's face.

For one surreal moment in that bright, white sunlight, Fleming couldn't distinguish between the two: all that seemed to separate the Red Pope from the Black Pope was the colour of their robes.