she say exactly who she wants protection from? Do you know who they are? Where they are? Why they’re threatening her?”
“I can tell you some of that, but sometimes she’s less than honest with me, too, and I don’t know why. Sometimes she tries to conceal how frightened she is by talking about them lightly, or ambiguously. But I believe she’s genuinely frightened. I can tell you the rest of what she was going to say last night, and I’ll add some ideas of my own that might help you, although my own enquiries haven’t uncovered much.”
“Alright. But if I don’t think it’s enough, I’ll walk away.” No you won’t, he thought, not from this. Not now.
“She doesn’t know their individual names and locations,” Gaetano continued, as if he hadn’t heard Anwar. “They aren’t even members of the Bilderbergers or the Atlanticists and the rest. They just work through them indirectly, when it suits them. They have larger agendas. Maybe Zaitsev’s one of them. Or the presidents of some UN members. Or you, or me, playing a double or triple game. And they stay...”
“Stay dormant for years, then come out once or twice in every generation to give history a nudge. I know, she told me. But why are they suddenly a threat? And why at the summit? How does she know?”
“She’s been dealing with them since she became Archbishop five years ago. She must sense their long-term plans. And they don’t attend our Boards or Assemblies. They communicate only with her, by messages given to Board members. Handwritten messages in sealed envelopes, passed through a network of couriers and proxies which soon disappears if you try to trace it back. I’ve tried.”
“The UN will have to check all this, I don’t have the resources, and personally I don’t buy it,” Anwar said. “A conspiracy inside bodies which are themselves the subject of conspiracy theories. A shadowy cell that manipulates the manipulators. Handwritten notes. I don’t buy it.” But privately he was just beginning to. It fitted some of the observed data, and it felt right. “I really don’t buy it,” he repeated, as if the repetition would drive the uncertainty out of his voice. It didn’t. “And this is what she was going to tell me last night?”
“Part of it. But you need to hear the rest.”
2
I shouldn’t really have come here this morning , Richard Carne thought. But they didn’t tell me not to, so they must have suspected I might. And I’m glad I did. It’s quite striking. Really singular.
It had been an easy journey from London, and only a short detour from where he was headed, to reach Brighton. And an easy journey of ninety seconds from Gateway to Cathedral, in a sleek white-and-silver maglev, to see the Conference Centre at the end of the New West Pier.
Those who employed him were unknown to him. He only dealt with them indirectly, through several layers of proxies and cutouts, but even the little he’d seen of what they could do was deeply impressive. They’d be doing more things between now and the summit, but the summit—here, in two weeks— was where it would really kick off. And what would happen at this Conference Centre would be only a small part of it.
What they could do, he reflected, was quite diverting and singular. He was a relatively minor functionary, but he’d seen and heard enough. There was what they’d done to Asika. And what they’d done to Levin, which was worse. And Levin’s face , when he’d realised he couldn’t defend himself. Now, he thought, let’s have a look at that extraordinary Cathedral, and then a longer look at the equally extraordinary Conference Centre. That was where it would all really begin. The thing which would kill her was quite singular, quite diverting. It might already be here, in this beautiful silver and white building where the summit would begin on October 15.
If not, it would be on its way.
3
“Half a percent of the world’s population,” Gaetano said,
“I can tell you some of that, but sometimes she’s less than honest with me, too, and I don’t know why. Sometimes she tries to conceal how frightened she is by talking about them lightly, or ambiguously. But I believe she’s genuinely frightened. I can tell you the rest of what she was going to say last night, and I’ll add some ideas of my own that might help you, although my own enquiries haven’t uncovered much.”
“Alright. But if I don’t think it’s enough, I’ll walk away.” No you won’t, he thought, not from this. Not now.
“She doesn’t know their individual names and locations,” Gaetano continued, as if he hadn’t heard Anwar. “They aren’t even members of the Bilderbergers or the Atlanticists and the rest. They just work through them indirectly, when it suits them. They have larger agendas. Maybe Zaitsev’s one of them. Or the presidents of some UN members. Or you, or me, playing a double or triple game. And they stay...”
“Stay dormant for years, then come out once or twice in every generation to give history a nudge. I know, she told me. But why are they suddenly a threat? And why at the summit? How does she know?”
“She’s been dealing with them since she became Archbishop five years ago. She must sense their long-term plans. And they don’t attend our Boards or Assemblies. They communicate only with her, by messages given to Board members. Handwritten messages in sealed envelopes, passed through a network of couriers and proxies which soon disappears if you try to trace it back. I’ve tried.”
“The UN will have to check all this, I don’t have the resources, and personally I don’t buy it,” Anwar said. “A conspiracy inside bodies which are themselves the subject of conspiracy theories. A shadowy cell that manipulates the manipulators. Handwritten notes. I don’t buy it.” But privately he was just beginning to. It fitted some of the observed data, and it felt right. “I really don’t buy it,” he repeated, as if the repetition would drive the uncertainty out of his voice. It didn’t. “And this is what she was going to tell me last night?”
“Part of it. But you need to hear the rest.”
2
I shouldn’t really have come here this morning , Richard Carne thought. But they didn’t tell me not to, so they must have suspected I might. And I’m glad I did. It’s quite striking. Really singular.
It had been an easy journey from London, and only a short detour from where he was headed, to reach Brighton. And an easy journey of ninety seconds from Gateway to Cathedral, in a sleek white-and-silver maglev, to see the Conference Centre at the end of the New West Pier.
Those who employed him were unknown to him. He only dealt with them indirectly, through several layers of proxies and cutouts, but even the little he’d seen of what they could do was deeply impressive. They’d be doing more things between now and the summit, but the summit—here, in two weeks— was where it would really kick off. And what would happen at this Conference Centre would be only a small part of it.
What they could do, he reflected, was quite diverting and singular. He was a relatively minor functionary, but he’d seen and heard enough. There was what they’d done to Asika. And what they’d done to Levin, which was worse. And Levin’s face , when he’d realised he couldn’t defend himself. Now, he thought, let’s have a look at that extraordinary Cathedral, and then a longer look at the equally extraordinary Conference Centre. That was where it would all really begin. The thing which would kill her was quite singular, quite diverting. It might already be here, in this beautiful silver and white building where the summit would begin on October 15.
If not, it would be on its way.
3
“Half a percent of the world’s population,” Gaetano said,
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