Recalling Destiny

By Michael R Blinkhoff

1987, a man is strangely unearthed from a deep pit the central Australian desert, he is alive, but soon thereafter disappears.

Thirty years later that same man walks the street and runs into Harrison, a young kid/hacker trying to unravel the mystery that is Destiny, a secret facility nobody seems to know about. Together with Smith they must work together to unravel what it is, but Smith, it seems, doesn't even know who he is and what he is truly capable of.

Catlin is a young, care-free volunteer who has suddenly become a target of high value. She doesn't know why. but the government have sent soldiers in to capture her, But when she finally flees from their clutches, she's captured by another group, a group who call themselves Destiny.

How do you control your destiny when someone else is pulling the strings?

To look deep within oneself is the only way out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael R Blinkhoff
• Release date: Oct 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370390748

Michael R Blinkhoff

Michael R. Blinkhoff was born in 1981, Mitcham, Victoria to a Dutch father and English / Irish mother. The fourth child of five, Michaels first few years of life were spent in the suburbs of Melbourne, before his family moved to Papua New Guinea, where they lived for twenty years. His youth was spent in the land of the unexpected, a youth full of wild experiences, until at the age of twelve he was sent to boarding school in Australia. He has since lived and travelled all around the world, in Europe, Asia, Africa, America and the Pacific, currently residing in Vietnam.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

{Central Australian Desert – 30 years ago}

A shovel hits the dirt, removing soil slowly from a steadily deepening hole. The pit being dug is deep, almost eight foot and is out in the middle of the desert in central Australia.

A solitary figure stands guard at the top of the excavation, he is dark of skin and wearing only a loin cloth. He stands with only his left foot touching the ground, the other leg rests comfortably on his knee. He stands tall and still, his hands upon his hunting spear keeping him steady as he watches over the barren landscape. His eyes constantly scan the horizon, he is protecting a person below, in the pit.

The person in the pit is very different to the one above, the skin is white and she is female. Unlike the scantily clad native, her body is covered head to toe with clothes. Despite the searing heat she always remains thus, protecting her skin from the harsh rays of the sun.

Her hair is a strange mix of blonde, red and brown and is very unkempt, tied up at the back with a rubber band. She is very tall for a woman, taller than her companion and very lithe, a very noticeable mole rests on the bridge of her nose.

Her exertions cause her to sweat profusely under the hot Australian sun. Her clothes, very damp, cling to her body like wet mud and suck at her skin every time she moves. But she has not tired the past few hours, nor relented under the heat of the sun. She has a set look to her face and is clearly determined to achieve her goal, no matter the conditions.

She takes a moments reprieve to gulp down a sip of water from a canister she has with her and returns to digging the pit, committed until she finds what she is after.

Looking around the immediate landscape you would see several other, similar such holes as the one she’s currently in, all now abandoned. She has been digging out here for some time.

Alongside some of the other excavations are artefact’s such the likes have never been seen on earth before. Ancient weapons, chunks of orichalcum with markings, masonry and gold.

But these had seemingly been discarded, left as if they were of no importance.

She was looking for something else.

There are no roads here, no mountains and no creeks with water, there is no life. This is the desert, a harsh and barren landscape hundreds of miles from civilization. The only thing that lines the horizon is a beaten up old white land rover, though the red dirt covering it makes it seem almost as red as the landscape around it.

The woman puts her canister back on the ground and continues digging. She fills a bucket with dirt and calls out in the native language to the man above her. He responds by pulling the rope attached to the bucket until it reaches the surface. He empties the bucket onto a large mound that has formed to the side, returns it back down the hole and stands again on one foot, staring into the horizon.

This process repeats itself for another few hours until the man above calls out to the woman below, in the native tongue he tells her something approaches on the horizon.

She asks him who approaches but he cannot make out the shapes out in the distance, the haze from the heat only makes them a slightly discernible, shimmering shadow.

Another hour passes and the man calls again to the woman below, this time reporting that he can now see who approaches. She asks him who he sees and he replies with only one word, the word translated means dinner.

The woman laughs in response, realising the other two men in her group must be returning with food, This is good Wally! she shouts aloud.

Aye Miss Alison, very good. he replies.

The woman in the pit decides she’s had enough digging for the moment and calls out for her companion above her, he responds by collecting a nearby ladder and positioning it inside the excavation. She climbs up and gets to the surface, dusting off her clothes as she squints her eyes at the two shadowy figures approaching.

Soon the two figures in the distance join them at the pit, all smiling as they greet each other. The two men had left three days prior with a promise to find food and now returned with a small catch of rabbits, bugs and snake. They are all hungry, so immediately abandon work for the day and set about the task of preparing dinner.

By nightfall their bellies are full, they rest by a campfire and tell Alison stories of the dreamtime. The three dark men speak feverishly as they recall tales of a time before man, a time that only lived in the stories they told. The stories had been passed down through countless generations and bore a great wisdom of the land before time.

It was not long after that their eyes became heavy and they fell asleep.

The sun rose early the next morning and so too the small group, the woman taking time to escape the men to complete her womanly duties. When she returns they’ve laid out a plate of food for her from the previous night’s meal, she sits down and eats it with pleasure.

As she eats, she looks to see the three men have already set to the task of digging the pit, this time with two men inside digging and the third emptying buckets for them. The woman watches them with admiration in her eye, they have become her family over a very short time.

Wally had been working with her father for years and it was he who had brought both Jirri and Ngwalu with him when she had asked for help with this project. Now both the young men powered through the earth with gusto, whilst Wally supervised from above.

Suddenly one of the men cries out from within the pit, calling out that his spade has hit something beneath the earth. He calls out to Wally above him, who then turns to Alison, beckoning her to come urgently.

Both men inside the pit fall to their knees on the ground and begin to dig at the earth with bare hands, slowly they wipe away at the dirt until a form starts to take shape inside the pit.

The first sign they have found something is a tuft of hair, which they delicately brush the dirt from. Then, bit by bit, they slowly remove the earth around it until the outline of a human head can be discerned in the ground.

The two men in the pit are both kneeling, looking at each other for guidance as they are unsure of what to do with the partially uncovered head.

Miss, come, must look. one of them calls out loudly.

The woman sticks her head over the lip of the pit and replies to them, Have you found somethi ... She stops herself, noticing the outline of a head at the bottom. She motions to them that she is coming down, but with room for only two in the pit one of the men must exit first.

Quickly they trade places and she and the remaining man work away at the buried head for another few minutes until the face starts to become uncovered. The white woman and the black man stare at the face they have uncovered in the dark of the pit, observing that it is a perfectly preserved face of a man. No blemishes, no decay, as if it were buried five minutes prior.

A face of black man with no discernible descent.

Is it him? the woman asks the darker man.

I do not know miss Alison.

Who else right? she mumbles to herself, Dark skin, features …

Suddenly the buried heads eyes flick open wide, but the eyes are completely dark, void of any colour. The two reel back instinctively at the movement of the eyes and are unsure of what to do. But the eyes soon change colour, replaced by a darker blue and a pupil at the centre.

The pupil focuses.

It looks at them.

Aye miss … it is him.

HARRISON

He opens the door, inching his head out slowly to check the exterior before exiting the building. This habit is typical for him, Harrison is a wanted criminal. Even though its mid-morning in the city streets, he is very watchful.

Satisfied nobody is watching his activities, he pulls the hood of his sweater down tightly, pops an earphone in one ear and takes off down the street brusquely. As he cautiously navigates the streets his ears begin to pick up a faint ringing, like a bell sounding in the distance. At first it doesn’t register as a threat to him and then he remembers himself and begins to feel a little pressure mount in his chest, as if the alarm bells are sounding for him.

He is not a calm person, young Harrison, and his mind races with endless possibilities. Who are the bells for? They’re alarm bells, aren’t they? Damn, I hope I’m ok. What the hell is that noise?

His pace quickens and he pulls a mobile telephone from his pocket, flicking a series of commands on it to bring up an app he custom designed to scan police communication systems. He listens intently via the earphones as he walks the city streets, frowning as he tries to discern the chatter over the police emergency line.

What are they saying? Geez, I’ve really stuffed up now … Whooaaa!

Suddenly, the wailing siren of a police vehicle sounds from behind him, coupled with the sound of an oncoming car, its engine revving at high gear.

Bugger it! They’ve got me. Oh no!

Harrison curses under his breath as he realises the police must have been watching him all along and had now sent a marked car in pursuit, to capture him. He stops dead in his tracks, his heart beating furiously in his chest as he turns to face his pursuer.

Ignoring the police radio chatter in his earpiece, he turns and instinctively raise’s his arms in a supplicating gesture of defeat as the blue and white police vehicles descend upon him. Feeling like he is on the cusp of wetting his pants, he close’s one eye and squints with the other as two marked police cars come into view and head straight for him.

Whoosh!

In an instant the two cars blow by him and continue on further up the street. Harrison is left standing in the street, with an odd look on his face.

Perplexed, he stands there and watches as the two police vehicles speed down the street, take a right turn and disappear out of view. Confused, yet relieved, his hands fall back down and he bends over. Exhaling deeply and trying to slow his breath, he remembers the earpiece and turns his attention back to the chatter. Quickly he realises the police radio blaring in his earphones is not about him at all, the chatter is referring to another incident, an apparent bank robbery in progress.

It’s not for me, phew! Thank the gods, man … thought I was done for!

With a sigh of relief, he continues walking down the street with his head down, pulling his hoodie further over his head as he goes. He silently curses himself and his stupidity at not realising the situation when a loud bang sounds off in the street, followed quickly by another burst of loud taps. Harrison realises it’s the sound of gunfire that’s penetrating his ears and he ducks down instinctively, looking about him for its source.

Another shot rings out, Harrison ducks again and searches around him for some kind of cover, any sort of protection from the gunfire. Seeing a large skip bin ahead, he quickly darts over and takes refuge behind it. Kneeling, he notices the street is deadly quiet, save for the sound of footsteps quickly approaching.

Who’s shooting? What the hell, police cars, gunfire, what have I walked into? Is it for me?

Fearful, yet intrigued, he pokes his head out from behind the skip to take a look and sees a dark-skinned man running hastily towards him. The man is impressively tall and lithe, obviously fit and muscular underneath the faded blue coveralls covering his body.

As the man runs hurriedly down the street he catches sight of Harrison hiding behind the skip and stares straight at him, Harrison’s heart skips a beat in response. Their two eyes meet for only a moment and then the man continues on up the street, fleeing the scene.

Harrison’s left kneeling on the pavement as if struck by lightning, dumbfounded at what he’s just seen. Did I just see the robber? Did he kill those policemen? I remember hearing gunshots but that man wasn’t carrying a gun. So what happened to those police cars that went by?

He stands and can feel himself shaking, he is not the adrenaline seeking kind of person and it shows on him visibly. His mind races with a thousand thoughts and possibilities, his fear driving them on, perpetuating his timid state.

Harrison is more of a digital adrenaline junkie, preferring to get his kicks out of a computer screen and internet connection than in real life. His heart races furiously inside his chest as a result.

Still standing in the street like a stunned mullet, he thinks of the man who just fled by him and the moment they locked eyes with each other. Immediately a rush of calmness washes over him. It’s a strange feeling, as he starts to feel more peaceful just thinking of the man. Placid even to the point where a slight smile creeps up on his lips as he remembers the man’s eyes.

Harrison, quite unusually, feels calm. His mind, almost always a million miles an hour, is still.

A brief moment passes till he remembers his purpose, and shaking his head, makes sure the coast is clear before heading off in the same direction as the black man. But only moments after he makes his decision, Harrison must stop again as two police officers round the corner of a building behind him, brandishing their revolvers as they charge in his direction.

Arrgh!! Harrison screams aloud this time, lowering himself to the pavement voluntarily as they come towards him at pace.

Get down, stay out of sight! one of the officer’s yells to him as he runs past, the two continuing their pursuit of the black man up the street, guns raised and ignoring Harrison.

Jesus! Harrison curse’s himself again as he stands back up and wipes the dust and dirt from the pavement off his clothes. His hands start shaking again, so he balls them into fists to try a release the tension he’s feeling.

I’m guess I’m not going that way then it seems. He decides, turning around and heading in the opposite direction.

He continues determinedly and rounds the street where he sees a mass of police vehicles scattered outside the bank building that was apparently robbed. He knows he must go that way to get to his rendezvous point, but decides he should take the long way around. He is already half scared to death, so hastily changes direction to avoid policemen.

Now in the city backstreets, he feels slightly safer and his pace frees itself as he realises he’s not in any real danger. Harrison knows too well the paranoia his mind can create.

Calming himself he listens closely to the police scanners, which by now are mostly relaying information about the robbery. Although it seems nobody can locate the culprit and mixed reports of his location are rife over the radio.

Gee, who was that guy? He had a strange look about him … Whatever, I’m just glad they weren’t after me!

Just as his heart slows to manageable pace, Harrison again hears footsteps in the street, this time echoing from somewhere behind him. He turns, this time more casually, and looks back in the street to see two men coming towards him. He wets himself as he realises this time the two men, dressed completely in black fatigues, are coming for him.

Destiny. Oh hell, those are Destiny men!

They’re coming for me! Crap, run boy, run!

He doesn’t have time to think, he just bolts, spurred on by his instincts of flight. He isn’t a fast runner but his panic enables an unusual speed, giving him an immediate advantage over his two pursuers.

He runs hard, but quickly loses energy. The two men dressed in black give pursuit and although lose immediate ground, quickly catch up to a tiring Harrison. He knows it isn’t long before they catch him.

Oh man, my legs hurt. Oh, please, where is Truck?

Staggering on his feet, he comes across a large parking garage and crosses its entrance quickly, barely taking notice of the vehicle waiting by the exit, paying the car park fee.

Harrison crosses the driveway in front of the exit to the carpark, looks up again at the vehicle and has to do a double take when he realises the person behind the wheel of the car is a black man. His heart stops itself as he recognises the man from the street, who only moments before, fled by him with two police officers in pursuit.

Gunshots. I heard gunshots, then this guy comes running. That is him right? What the hells he doing in that car?

He distracts himself so much by his thoughts that he doesn’t notice several holes dotted along the front windscreen of the car. It’s not a sight anyone would normally pay heed to, as it almost looks like a trickle of bubbles on the glass. But it’s a very deliberate and uniformed line that runs up the length of the windscreen on the passenger’s side.

Harrison staggers forward slowly across the carpark entrance, distracted because the black man in the car is looking him directly in the eye. He wears no expression in his face, it is neutral, but the look on Harrison’s is most obviously one of confusion.

Harrisons mind goes suddenly still as he labours forward, the second time a wave of calmness has come over him.

Then the man in the vehicle, with eyes locked firmly on Harrisons, does something unexpected. He floors the accelerator and drive’s the car straight at him, flying forward at breakneck speed.

The last thing Harrison remembers is hitting the bonnet of the car and crashing headfirst into the windscreen.

Then everything goes black.

MA’AM

Find me the bloody target! A woman yelled aloud as she stood over a large group of people operating computers in what looked like a traffic control room.

Ma’am, the subject has disappeared from view. said the female operator who sat closest, hands trembling in expectation of the reaction from her boss.

What do you mean disappeared!? came the loud response.

We’ve lost visibility Ma’am the operator replied, albeit hesitantly.

Where is the Viper?

We’ve lost communication.

That’s impossible, all stations priority one, I repeat priority one … someone give me something. the matronly woman calls out for the whole room to hear, more than a little exasperation in her voice.

Her cell-phone camera is on screen now Ma’am.

I can’t see anything.

Another cell phone trace located Ma’am … another operator calls out from within the large room.

Of who?

Closest to targets location.

And?

Activating now on the main screen Ma’am.

The woman looks up at the large cinema like screen that dons the main wall of the room, within moments a dull image flashes onto it. The operator has remotely activated the camera on a mobile phone and now relayed its images onto the main control room screen.

But the vision showed nothing, and the sound was muffled, meaning the cell phone was obviously inside the owner’s pocket, the woman eyed the screen for something of use but quickly dismissed it.

Whose phone are we looking at?

Ma’am, its listed as a company asset.

Name?

C.O.D Resources.

That’s a government, baloney name if I ever heard one, where is target one?

Another operator calls out, Ma’am, trace was completed on all digital assets within five miles, that was the only other one.

Then increase the bloody range! she bellowed.

Activating all momentarily, Ma’am. came the response.

Good.

The woman scratched her head as she tried to think of possible solutions to her current predicament. Before she can come up with one though, she’s interrupted by another person. This person is not operating a station though, he’s the only other person walking the floor as the woman was, he is her second in command.

Ma’am, the secondary target? he enquired.

Number two I told you, we are priority one at the moment, I don’t care about the flipping boy ... find our main target!

Ma’am ops have reported him being taken by … the man was cut off.

I said I don’t give a shit, we are priority one on the main target.

The man turns quickly after the scolding, returning to a nearby console.

The woman eyes the main screen, willing for something to appear on it but nothing came, nobody noticed her flinch at the sound of the shouting that was coming via the mobile phones audio, alerting to distress taking place.

I need more than bloody audio! she shouted, C’mon people!

She moved hastily to the centre of a large auditorium style room to be back in the centre of the action. The room was laid out much the same as any surveillance operation, four rows comprising of eight stations are set back from the main screen, which dominates one end of the room. The stations were where operators searched various digital sources on their screens for the woman to navigate through and give directions on.

Here at Destiny they could search and hack anything digital, anything.

Number two? the woman called out to the man she’d shut down previously.

Ma’am.

Solutions?

Ah ... Nothing, Ma’am. All other devices found in the area are active, we have audio but, but no trace of her, I mean, he irked at his mistake of mentioning that it was a female target, We have no trace of the targets voice and no video images. he corrected himself quickly.

Another man, a bald man, who had been sitting in the back corner of the room, looked up at the mention of it. He says nothing but underneath his round glasses one can see him raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

Five? the woman called out, What’ve you got for me?

I’m sorry Ma’am ... satellites have temporarily lost video capability. I don’t have a visual.

Since when?

Since this started Ma’am.

What! How?

Not sure, some interference is blocking me. Resetting connections now. the operator set to work.

Hurry it up! she demanded coldly.

Yes Ma’am.

Ma’am, it is Africa. I mean … the second in command speaks up, trying to plead with her.

Not good enough.

Ma’am, Africa just doesn’t have the technological capabilities, I mean ...

Rubbish ... We find the target, understand? she replied, steadfast in her resolve.

The woman, taking a moment to think, moved in close to her number two, whispered something in his ear and promptly left the room. The bald man who was in the corner raised an eyebrow as she made for the door, but the look Ma’am returned made him look away cowardly. One could tell that he feared her.

She moved quickly and deliberately, once outside of the building she exited into an open yard that was set amongst the bush of Australia.

She crossed the yard quickly and quietly, moving past a second demountable building and behind it into what appeared to be dense forest. Even though it was dark, the woman navigated her way easily though the thicket and came into another clearing that resembled a woodcutter’s abode.

The area appeared abandoned, as it looked in a state of disarray. Cobwebs covered buildings and corrugated iron surfaces had rusted holes borne into them. Trees had fallen in several places across the large shed structure and the grass had grown high, making it, on the whole, appear a seemingly uninhibited part of the complex.

The first building was a small wood and iron shed, evidence of logging could be seen around the structure but nobody’s in sight. The night sky is blocked by the dense foliage, making it a truly dark and foreboding place. Next to the shed though, a small lamp hangs over another much smaller structure, an old outhouse. A rusty old sign on the outside door stating that it was out of order.

The woman moved toward it, opened the creaky, rusted iron door, walked in and closed the door behind her. Once inside the small toilet, she looked directly at the top right corner of the outhouse and waited patiently.

Within moments of the door closing the room changed.

The toilet started lifting vertically, raising itself up slowly. A low mechanical sound hummed as it rose and once at waist level, a hydraulic lift exposed itself as being the cause for the change.

As the toilet, clearly a ruse, was lifted high, a stairwell started to reveal itself, tunnelling beneath the structure.

Once clear, the woman entered the tunnel and disappeared down into its depths, the toilet quickly returned to its original state and the scene back to its abandoned state.

After descending the dark concreted stairwell, she exited the passage onto a large mezzanine level set above a large underground room, similar in design to the operations room she’d just left. Like the other operations room this one too had a main screen at its forefront and a series of digital stations set up in a semi-circle behind it, in view of the main screen wall.

But this was no ordinary surveillance operation, this was the real Destiny facility.

As soon as the woman exited the stairwell onto the mezzanine, she took another set of stairs that brought her to the ground level, the floor of the operations room.

Sit-rep! the woman called out as she descended into the main area.

Ma’am we haven’t located the target yet. a man sitting at a station with the number three on it called out in response.

I know that! she scolded him, I want secondary action plan prepped and ready to go three, understood?

Understood Ma’am.

Five, where are my satellites?

Still nothing Ma’am.

Station eight?

Hmmm? came a calm reply from a mature aged woman, looking at her screen over her spectacles, Just woke up. she said with a yawn.

Ma’am appeared frustrated by the lack of interest from the other woman and spoke louder and with more authority, Where’s my target eight?

Oh, we haven’t been able to find her for ages, not since … she is cut off.

Don’t care, find a trace of her in the thread, anywhere!

The woman sitting at eight doesn’t seem frazzled by the outburst, she keeps at her desk, keying in commands as if she was unaffected by the tone. I’ll try but it just doesn’t work like that hmmm, and besides she isn’t even part of the thread so, she …

You don’t need her thread to find her. Ma’am cut her off, Find any other idiot within the time frame, understood?

Hmmm, searching … understood Ma’am, roger, roger that. the older lady of station eight complied, making a mock salute as she did so.

Ma’am didn’t react though, she looked around the room quickly to see if anyone was watching her movements. Satisfied nobody was, she moved in closer to the woman and whispered in her ear quietly, Please Marion, just find her. Find her for me, you’re the only one who can.

Checking her watch and realising the time, Ma’am left the station, back in the direction of the stairs she’d come from. It’s a large room, or rather a theatre, much similar to that of a lecture hall.

A large screen dominated the forefront of the room, with one large main screen and eight alternate, smaller screens running on either side of the large screen. The layout of the room consisted of four console rows of computers, all manned by workers and set in a formation that gradually inclined backwards in a semi-circle. To the rear of the rows and the back of the room, were two identical hexagonal stations that were also manned, it made for an impressive technological sight.

The rear of the room housed panelled glass, with a couple of rooms that held facilities such as bathrooms and kitchens for the workers. At the floor level there were only two doors, one to the right and the other to the left.

The door to the right led to a small, glass room that was sealed. The other led down a long corridor that contained a large underground network of staff housing and amenities.

To the rear of the main room a large steel staircase led back up to the mezzanine level. The mezzanine level is smaller but has a balcony view of the floor, with a couple of small offices to the right hand side. Its main feature though, is that it housed the main entrance to the facility, the stairwell that Ma’am had just come through. A large, fully encased steel door now seals it closed from the outside world.

It was a completely self-contained operations facility, housed secretly underground and separate to the other facility upstairs.

The woman, known only to the floor operators as Ma’am, quickly ascended the steel stairs to the mezzanine and headed for an office marked as private. There is a guard stationed outside, he acknowledged her presence, opened the door for her and indicated that she was going to have to take a seat and wait.

She sits in a chair fiddling impatiently and pondered over her dilemma whilst staring at the desk. She is a woman unaccustomed to failure at her post and for the first time in a long time, she feels unsure of herself coming into a meeting with Samuel. More to the point, a situation is unfolding below and she’s anxious to resolve it.

We lost the target in the fold I hear? the voice of a man called out in a questioning manner from behind her.

She jumped in her chair, a little startled by his entrance into the office. Damn, he must have been in the bathroom, thought he was in the coffin … Yes Samuel, we lost the target somehow. she replied.

Well then, no matter. I’m sure you’ll find him. he waved dismissively, the topic seemingly of no importance to him.

He moved into the room still drying his wet hands on his business pants, and sat on his office chair behind a large rosewood desk. He wasn’t a man of great height, but he did carry himself with a great dignity, despite the bulge of his stomach. Samuel was one of the founding members of the installation and as a result could be a little pompous about it.

We are prepping to launch another causality as a countermeasure Samuel, first event launch was nine years ago, second event is being setup. We estimate contact with subject will occur in seven days if she turns back up.

Sounds intriguing. Samuel replied, sitting himself down.

It was the only way to find her.

Her? I thought we were looking for a him?

My priority target is under some distress.

So what? he responded as he pulled a packet of sweets from his drawer.

So we are trying to resolve the situation as we speak.

How did this happen? he eyed her warily, Thought you had her under guard?

Seems we’ve had betrayal of some sort, and only two people knew she was out in the jungle of Africa.

Who’s the contact? he asked, curious.

She passed a document folder over to Samuel for him to inspect, Her brother Mark and a former lover, Peter Friendly. Also, I have to let you know that they are both registered on ASIO servers, so we are being extremely cautious.

Something changed in Samuel’s mind at the mention of ASIO and he immediately waved the document folder away, Inside are details I do not have time to ponder on, all I expect is finality on the subject. This is your project and not mine.

Samuel, I … he cut her off.

And ASIO you say, you know what I think about government involvement! he shook his head.

Of course Samuel. her teeth grind together, I know the protocol.

They can’t know what we do here. You messing with government employee’s only spells trouble for us.

I know.

And that Thomas fool upstairs, the government dummy, he’s a spy in case you didn’t know.

What?

Well, I think he is anyway.

You have proof?

Nope, but I could care less about him anyway. And if you’re worried about betrayal or leaked information then I would certainly consider that one first. he began to pick at his teeth, scraping furiously at whatever was stuck inside.

It makes sense, he’s got a seat upstairs in the control room. she bit her lip as she thought more about it.

Maybe don’t do operations up there then.

Yeah.

He eyes Ma’am very inquisitively, as if searching for something, You seem a little agitated Lucinda, is this one getting to you? he used her real name.

She pursed her lips and remained silent, it was a rather daunting situation she was in and Samuel was never entirely predictable in his response to situations. He could sometimes lose his temper and other times would be just as likely to smile and say, I know you’ll take care of it.

You must understand Samuel, the amount of resources that have gone into this undertaking have been vast and widespread. I have utilised upstairs to ensure the job gets done … she was cut off.

I have already told you that no government involvement is allowed on projects like these, they already know too much on what we do here. I mean, Jesus, aren’t they trying to capture her as well?

Yes, but ...

No buts, protecting this facility is always our main priority, right?

Yes. she replied reluctantly.

So don’t mess with it. We’ve eluded them for a reason, stay away from it.

Yes Samuel.

Now what about this kid, the one they call Han Solo?

His name is Harrison.

What’s the story there?

Apparently he hacked the government servers and obtained information on Destiny. We were tracking him and were about to intercept when he disappeared.

In the middle of Sydney!

I know, we had two agents who were following him in the street, plus surveillance. And then all of a sudden he disappears, we back tracked as much information as we could upstairs but as yet have nothing. Downstairs the thread shows nothing on him either, as if he’s disappeared from it too. The last we saw he was crossing a parking garage.

And the agents in pursuit?

They claim he was hit by a car at a parking garage and disappeared after. They haven’t found him or the car since.

So, why can’t downstairs find him?

Resources have been diverted to locate the primary target.

Dammit! Samuel slammed his fist down on the table, That girl does not take any priority over that little piss ant kid, do you understand?

That girl is …

I don’t give a crap who she is! he stood up from his desk, If anyone discovers us here, discovers what we are doing down here then we’re ruined! It’s bad enough what we do upstairs, but at least the government know about it, if they find out about what we do down here ...

They won’t.

That kid is one of the best you know, one of the smartest and resourceful hackers we’ve ever seen. He’s the only one to have found our software, hacked it and gleaned information from it. Ever!

He’s not the only one.

Oh god, not Suni. She worked here and understood how we operate, so she doesn’t surprise me. This kid though ... he had no idea we even existed!

Yes, I’ll admit that he’s got some talent.

Ha, high praise from you Lucinda, I wonder what Marion would say about him.

Ma’am only rolled her eyes, not deigning to reply

Right, so you have work to do then? he said with a brusque finality, Find that kid.

But Samuel, my …

No! he slammed his fist violently on the desk again, this time spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke, We are a secret facility, that kid wants to expose us. I don’t care about the bloody girl.

Before she could even answer him though, he raised his hand in the direction of the door, signalling for her to leave. She stood without argument and left the room.

I’ll be watching. he said as the door closed.

Meetings were always quick with Samuel, his impatience afforded her little time to discuss matters, but over the years she’d learnt to adapt to his style and become more decisive herself. It was actually more to her liking, it meant that she didn’t have to waste time relaying information to him.

But he could be a prick when he wanted to be, she cursed his two-face nature.

But she reminded herself that she was the true leader of the installation known as Destiny, the one who called the shots and gave the orders. She was only allowed one meeting a day with Samuel and they were always brief. The good side was she got to do what she wanted, without his interference. He consulted but never gave orders to the staff.

He almost never came out of his office either, a guard kept watch every minute of the day. So she was left with almost complete anonymity.

Station eight!? she asked aloud as she came back down the stairs.

Still looking ... came the reply from the woman.

Five?

Satellites are active Ma’am, but no trace of her yet.

Well hurry it up would you, she demanded, Eight?

What?

We need to launch a countermeasure. Get your offsider ready for me …

Here Ma’am a young girl stuck her head out from the other side of the hexagonal station eight.

Ma’am moved over to the young girl and passed her the document folder, Do you know the details?

Yes Ma’am, my mother told me. the girl smiled unreservedly.

We don’t use names down here, understand? Ma’am replied with a stern look on her face.

Sorry Ma’am. the girl looked sullen, taking the folder.

We don’t say sorry either, we do the right thing … every time! she emphasised the last word, Sorry is what you say after you’ve already stuffed up, so don’t stuff up.

Ma’am … I found her. the interruption came from the older woman at station eight.

Where is she?

Some child’s memory thread, looks like it doesn’t end well either. She looks like she’s in trouble.

A look of horror is apparent on Ma’am’s face, We have to change it.

You can’t change her thread …

No, but I can change all the others.

I’m not doing that. Marion sits bolt upright.

You don’t need to. she replies, turning to another station and calling out, Put the Viper into play.

Within moments orders are relayed and confirmations are received, Ma’am turns to Marion with an expectant eye. Marion holds her gaze for a moment and then returns to her screen, observing things are changing on the screen in front of her, real time corrections to real life.

Destiny literally transformed in an instant, a simple command altering fortunes.

Hmmm … it’s changing, the child’s thread is changing. Marion exclaims.

Now try find her again.

It’s live, this ain’t easy. Maybe I better look further afield.

Marion exits the screen and begins retyping a series of commands, moments later finding what she was looking for.

Here, she points to a spot on the screen, I backtracked anyone travelling from airports, bus stations and the likes, searching their memories for a trace. It was easy, I found her on several memory streams, and she was seen boarding a plane.

When?

Eighteen hours from now.

That means she’s safe then.

Yes, it would seem so.

Good, the Viper play worked … where is she going?

QANTAS flight sixty four, Johannesburg to Sydney.

She’s coming home? she asked, leaning in and checking for herself on the screen.

Yes.

She rests her hand on the lady’s shoulder, briefly, and said Thank you, Marion.

I’ll need to double check with some other memory threads but I’m estimating she will board the flight in about seventeen hours, she’s appears to be safe for now Lucinda, she’s safe.

The two of them had kept their voices low during the exchange. Despite Ma’am being strict on all stations and the use of names, she had known Marion since before this facility had even started and in this moment neither of them could help but to use one another’s name.

Hmmm, there’s something else. Marion whispered, ever so silently.

What?

The thread, live view, it’s changed again.

To what?

Go easy on him.

What is it? she leant in curiously and looked at the computer screen for herself, noticing what Marion was referring to Are you serious?

He’s just …

He’s endangering her!

No he wouldn’t do that, he’s her brother for Pete’s sake.

Is he? she looked closer at the screen, shocked at what she saw taking place.

Lucinda! Marion objected to the question.

She’s not out of the woods yet, Ma’am moved quickly from station eight, yelling as she moved, Get me the Viper again!

Lucinda? Marion questioned her motives.

Don’t call me that down here.

What are you planning? Marion asked.

You saw the thread, you know what he’s done to her … she stared her down powerfully, … and I have to keep her safe.

HARRISON

Harrison’s eyes open and he blinks them rapidly till the blurriness in his vision clears and he can take in his surroundings. He’s awoken in a poorly lit small room, all it contains is the bed he rests on and a table right beside him.

No other furniture adorns the room, along with no paint on the walls, windows or carpet on the floor. The walls look like painted black concrete, though faded, the room looking as though it hasn’t been occupied for some time. He blinks his eyes again, several more times as he attempts to think back on what he was doing that must have gotten him here.

Met with with ASIO contact … why?

Why was I there?

… that’s right, Destiny … I was there getting information on Destiny when …

Suddenly his thoughts are interrupted as the door to his small room opens and a man walks in wearing faded blue coveralls. He is tall, over six foot six by Harrison’s reckoning. His best friend, Truck, is also a tall man and he knew he was six foot six, this man is taller than that.

Not only is the man tall, he is also dark skinned, but with a strange complexion. He doesn’t bear a lot of resemblances to other dark males that Harrison can recall. He certainly bears a lot of similarities to African males, even to aboriginal males, but Harrison can’t quite place which nationality this man belongs to.

The man’s body is lean, muscular and no trace of hair exists anywhere on his body. His head is a shiny bald dome, his nose rounded. He looks like he’s in his prime, with a mix of both youth and experience to his face, but his eyes are dark and tell a difference story.

His friend Truck always taught him you could tell a lot about a man just by looking at his eyes and observing their characteristics. He’d taught him to look at their colour, as there were psychological indicators for each colour.

Harrison had brown eyes, which meant he was family oriented, affectionate and placed high value on his friendships. Harrison now closely observed this man’s eyes, noticing they were a deep shade of blue with a fleck of grey, dark blue like the ocean depths with a shiver of dark grey. They were most unusual, he’s never seen eyes like this before and therefore can’t discern anything from them.

As Harrison thoughtlessly observes him, the man stands casually in the doorway, not looking at anything in particular, almost as if he is waiting for something.

Before long Harrison’s memory flashes back to him and he recognises the dark man, he’s the man he had seen in the street, he was the one in the car.

He tries to think, as he stares into the man’s eyes, why he hasn’t freaked out at the realisation. He’s a timid boy, usually frightened by a bug. But this man doesn’t frighten him, he actually feels quite tranquil in his presence. And more to the point his mind is still.

What happened to me? he tries to sit up in bed, Oh man my head hurts! Harrison flops back down.

Accident. comes the plain reply.

What accident? Who are you and where am I man?

The man looks at him blankly for a moment before coming over to where Harrison lays and calmly checking the intravenous drip that’s been inserted into Harrison’s wrists. Harrison notices he’s got a large bandage wrapped around his left arm, bound from the palm to the elbow. He touches it and feels the pain that’s hidden below, wincing a little as he does so.

His mind flashes back to an image of him extending his hand forward as a car hurtled towards him.

The black man remains silent a while, calm until he says, Left forearm broke ... head cut, ribs bruise. he points to various places on Harrisons body in broken english, Not long for fixing.

Harrison looks his wrist over and feels the stiffness of his other injuries, How long have I been here, asleep?

Four hour.

Wow he could feel tiredness overwhelm him suddenly, Not long at all … And how did this happen?

Crash … car.

How in the hell did I survive that? he feels his speech starting to slur as he talks.

Very lucky. the man replies, touching his hand to Harrisons forehead softly.

Wait, what? You hit me on purpose, you drove that car …

The confusion on Harrisons face is apparent, but another wave of tiredness sweeps over him. Before he realises what’s happening he quickly falls back into a deep sleep.

He awakes again sometime later in the darkness, the grogginess in his head still there. He feels himself to check his body and breathes a sigh of relief when everything appears to be where it’s supposed to be.

His arm feels stronger and his ribs don’t feel as painful as they did earlier, the headache from his head wound has disappeared. Maybe his injuries weren’t so bad, or perhaps he was on good painkillers, but strangely, Harrison cannot feel any of the pain he experienced earlier.

He thinks to himself it’s a miracle he’s even alive, he must have smashed perfectly through the windscreen and onto the passenger’s seat. Is that even possible? He sits there wondering to himself, how could he have possibly broken through the windscreen, he weighed just under sixty-five kilograms.

I’m too small, surely it’s not possible. Or is it? How much do I weigh? And what’s the probable density of the windscreen? And where exactly did I hit on its surface?

His other senses start to come back to him, his smell the first as he can taste the wet mould around him. Sniffing again, the air feels heavy to breathe, as if he’s underground. But the lighting in the room is too bad for him to be able to make anything out clearly.

He sees he’s still on the same bed, with an I.V line hooked up to his wrist. He’s still wearing his jeans and shirt, but it looks like his hoodie has been removed, probably so the IV line could be put in. He vaguely remembers the sound of sirens in amongst the rush before the accident too. But he knew the sirens were not chasing him, they had been for someone else.

The Destiny guys, I remember them chasing me. Man they were really close to nabbing me!

He also remembers the giant of a man he spoke to briefly before passing out. He discerns movement nearby and calls out, quickly hearing a response to his call as steps began echoing towards him.

Damn, what do I say? Hi, I’m Harrison, I just crashed through your windscreen, and how the hell are you!

Ok? the black man asks, coming into the room.

Harrisons face contorts, his mind goes blank and all he can think to say is, Just wanted to say thank-you for looking after me. he bumbles out, rather confused, I think I’m ok. I feel fine.

The man gives no response, just stands there and looks at Harrison plainly.

How on earth did I manage to end up here?

The man doesn’t respond, instead he retreats from the room momentarily, returning seconds later carrying a tray. On it Harrison notes there is food and drink, he eagerly sits up in bed as the man brings it over.

Harrison wastes no time in conversation, he launches into the sandwich offered, only taking breaks intermittently to gulp from the orange juice bottle that’s also on the tray. The black man only stands there, watching him expressionless.

I remember hearing sirens, what were they for? he asks with a mouthful of sandwich.

Police siren.

What were they doing?

Ringing.

Huh? Oh … I mean, why were they ringing?

Don’t know.

Huh? Harrison frowns, I saw you, running … why were you running from the police?

Men shoot … chase.

Why?

Don’t know.

No, I mean why the shooting, why were you in the bank?

Need document.

Huh, oh of course Harrison quips and then suddenly realises the man, although sounding sarcastic, must’ve been telling the truth. He also realises this likely doesn’t bide well for his safety, he shifts a little where he lays.

Harrison’s a young man who’s never had much to fear in his life, but fear is very much a part of him. He’s a self-confessed nerd, but nobody at school ever picked on him for being one. He’s an average person who seemingly disappears when in a crowd. So, Harrison lived in his own world, a world inside his own head and a world dominated by fear.

He looks up at the dark man and ponders him a moment, he’s almost a person you wouldn’t consider unless he made it so. Harrison can sense this straight away but doesn’t have the foggiest idea why, his normally active mind is not functioning as per normal. It’s unusually quiet.

Is my stuff around here somewhere? he asks.

The man makes no reply, so Harrison begins looking around for his things and sees his hoodie piled neatly on the table. He gets up slowly from the bed and slides over towards the table, I must be honest with you, I was running from someone myself, but not from the police.

The black man only stares blankly, as if his mind is devoid of thought.

Yes, we have something in common actually … we are both thieves. Harrison smiles, rummaging through the hoodie.

The man raises an eyebrow in response.

Oh, I’m not quite the robber that you are, I’m more of a digital thief. He’s still smiling until he finishes rummaging through his things, not finding what he’s looking for.

Hey, I don’t suppose you found a small USB device on me? he seems alarmed at not finding it.

Again, a blank response.

Doesn’t matter if you did get it. You can’t have looked at it anyway, it’s encrypted, by me ... you can’t beat my encryption. Harrison says, looking pleased with himself. He’s well known in the world for his exploits as a hacker and encryption specialist.

Why?

Why? Because you don’t look like you are built for taking down firewalls man, you look more like my friend Truck and anyway, I am uncrackable!

What firewall?

See man, didn’t mean to offend you, but you don’t look the type.

Type?

Harrison finds he’s getting a little frustrated with the questions now, the man has the appearance of intelligence but seems to lack normal conversation skills, I meant that you don’t seem like the kind of person that spends his time on computers, like me. he taps his chest to indicate his nerdy appearance and then points at the man’s chest.

You look like you were made for hunting or killing something, not hacking computer files.

The man listens but makes no reply, his face is stoic.

So did you break through my encryption or not, did you take my drive? Please, it’s really important. I need it.

The man stares back at him for a while and makes the smallest of gestures with his bottom lip. He curls it up, out and downward with his eyes opening wide at the same time. It’s a gesture indicating he doesn’t comprehend the question.

Don’t you know anything Mister? Harrison asks pleadingly.

Know everything need know. is all the man says in reply.

Ah bollocks!

Why bollocks?

You have it don’t you?

This time the man shakes his head, no.

You just said you know everything?

He nods.

Frustrated, Harrison again looks through his things trying to find his missing USB, but to no avail. He turns back to the man, Please mister, it’s really important. Do you have my USB? People are relying on me for that information.

Why?

Its … I can’t tell you … its confidential.

Not have … remember put last?

Harrison frowns at the response, looks down and checks his jeans pocket. He fumbles the little coin section of his jeans and finds a bump. With a verbal ‘oh’ emanating as he does so, he pulls a USB device from his pants and holds it up to inspect.

Holding it up for them both to see, he can’t help but let out a nervous smile, as he finds it where he last left it. Sorry he says to the other man sheepishly.

Do you know what’s on this?

Yes.

See! You did look at it then, you said you didn’t know what it was.

Not look.

What? How did you crack my encryption?

The man looks confused, See as seen.

Well if you see everything then you’ll know how dangerous this information is, what it could mean?

The man doesn’t reply but for a moment a look appears on his face that Harrison takes as some sort of recognition, that maybe he wasn’t as dumb as he looked. He feels strange sitting with the man, he knew he should probably be more scared of him, but the emotion just doesn’t occur to him.

Why did you speed up, in the car? I saw you and you saw me, then you sped up … did you mean to hit me?

Yes.

Can I ask you why?

Yes.

Why?

Destiny.

A strange look creeps onto Harrisons face this time, not many people knew about Destiny or let alone knew what it was they were capable of.

And this guy knew something.

Harrison has, for some years, been in the digital espionage game, more from the point of view of a social informant.

He took great pride in being someone who informed the world of what governments and large multi-national corporations really got up to behind closed doors. How only a few people controlled the rest of the populace, enslaving them with a thing called money. He had successfully cracked numerous organisations and released their private information online, free for the public to access.

The truth should be shared.

It was along this path he came across a few whisperings of a secret organisation known only as Destiny, and now it seems this stranger knew something about them too.

And it seems that fate has brought them together.

CATLIN

A young woman sat on the edge of her seat in an aeroplane, her feet bobbing up and down nervously. She waited anxiously for that moment when the doors to the plane open and people start exiting, typically in haste.

Despite herself, she can’t help but feel a little awkward as she waits, people all just standing in a plane, waiting to exit and staring about the small canister they are trapped inside. They wait for that moment when the door opens and they can escape, to collect their luggage and move on to whenever it is they go next.

She wondered why people always did that, stood up and tried to exit before the plane doors opened. She found it almost as annoying as when boarding the plane and people would line up and jostle to get to their seat, which was usually allocated anyway.

Bunch of sheep.

She had the appearance of a rugged and dusty traveller, despite a first-class seat. Her long brown hair was wispy, tangled and probably hadn’t been washed in weeks. Her freckled face was darkly tanned after spending months in the African sun and her clothes looked dirty and tattered, despite being recently washed.

Her name was Catlin Conley, she was a photographer by trade but had held so many different positions over the years since school that she didn’t quite know what to answer when people asked. She thought herself more of an adrenaline seeker, searching the world for her next thrill, her next adventure.

She supposed herself a change to the norm, not the slave to the nine to five work week and certainly not interested in staying in one spot for too long. She explored the world and experienced what it was like to be a human on Earth, roaming free, chasing something new at every turn.

The year just gone she had spent in Africa volunteering at a children’s mission, the year before was in India and Asia teaching English. She’d also worked for Greenpeace and had once spent nearly a year on board the Steve Irwin vessel chasing Japanese whaling ships, almost losing her life on more than a few occasions.

More than anything she liked the danger, liked to get in moments that sent her adrenaline levels spiking. It was in those moments that she lost herself, lost all sense of who she was and just accepted things as they came. A person for the moment, living in the now.

She came from a family of money and had a wealth of it to spare, this more than financed her worldwide adventures. Rather than follow in her family’s footsteps, she had decided to venture off around the world, to chase some of the more wilder and raw experiences in life that few others seldom experienced.

Catlin believed life wasn’t meant to be spent in one place, one place is the same as a cage.

Despite her ruggedness, she was in fact a very attractive woman. But self-indulgence for the sake of appearance had