The Tower A Novel (Sanctus)

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The first thing Gabriel heard when he climbed stiffly from the back of the truck after the long journey was the cry of a woman.

He was naturally conditioned to respond to signs of distress and cries of pain but there was something in the sound that he

recognized. His senses snapped to attention and he reacted quickly, moving along the side of the truck, heading to the source. The

sound had come from a screened-off area by the water’s edge, with light coming from behind the screens.

He pushed past a staked sheet of canvas and squinted against the sudden brightness of the stand lights.

Liv was lying on a makeshift bed in the centre of a group of people. She looked tired and drawn but was still the most beautiful

thing he had ever seen. She seemed to glow in the lights. A young girl was at her feet holding a newborn baby that squirmed and

cried. She wrapped it in a towel and handed it to Liv.

A baby – Liv’s baby.

Shepherd saw the man get down from the truck – and head straight for the canvas screens. Hevva was in there, he couldn’t see

what was happening, he was too far away. The man disappeared behind the screens and Shepherd broke into a run, his feet slipping

in the soft earth of the shore.

Over by the truck someone else started to move with the same sense of purpose the first man had displayed. He was wearing a bulky

jacket, like a soldier’s tunic, and there was something about it and the stiff way he walked that set alarms ringing in Shepherd

’s head. The man reached the screens and turned briefly before disappearing behind them, the light from the truck’s headlights

catching his face. Shepherd stared. Shocked.

It was the Hubble control technician from Goddard. It was Merriweather.





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Liv saw Gabriel appear at the edge of the light and walk towards her. She thought it must be some kind of hallucination brought on

by hormones or pheromones or endorphins or any combination of the three.

She felt the weight of the baby as it was placed on her chest and she looked down at it – this tiny, perfect being. She had never

really believed in love at first sight but in that first moment she saw her baby she loved it more than she had ever loved

anything in her life. She would die for it right now if she had to.

She looked back up, expecting the vision of Gabriel to have gone but he was still there, solid and real. He too had tears in his

eyes and he was looking down at her and the baby.

Liv smiled and wept all at once, holding the baby’s velvety head close to her mouth. ‘It’s your daddy,’ she whispered. ‘He

came back.’

Then she saw movement, directly behind Gabriel.

Merriweather stepped into the blaze of light and beheld the bizarre nativity: the woman on the bed, holding the false prophet in

her arms – the un-doer of everything, the Antichrist.

He stepped forward, unbuttoning his tunic and letting it fall to the floor, no longer Merriweather, now revealed as his true self

– the Novus Sancti. He opened his arms to form the cross with his body, revealing the ritualized cuts in his flesh, and the packs

of explosives strapped to his chest. In one hand he held a gun, in the other, a wire connected to the explosives.

Now he could complete his transformation and become the instrument of mankind’s delivery, the first martyr of the reborn church,

ending this Satanic rebellion before it had even begun.

Gabriel saw the fear in Liv’s eyes and turned to see what had put it there.

He saw the bomb, the outstretched arms, the ritual cuts of a Sanctus.

His instinct was to just hurl himself forward and knock him away from Liv and the baby. But the Sanctus was too far back. Gabriel

would be shot before he covered the distance. But he was also too far away from Liv and the baby and he could see by the look in

his eyes that they were his target. He would move closer, to try and close the gap between himself and everyone else to make sure

the bomb blast was effective. That was when Gabriel would do it.

Then someone stepped into view, and the Sanctus reacted, spinning round to point the gun at the newcomer. The gunshot was like

thunder. The man fell back, thrown by the impact of the bullet. Gabriel threw himself at the Sanctus, hitting him hard and sending

them both to the floor. He pinned his gun hand down beneath the weight of his body and grabbed for the hand holding the wire,

digging his thumb hard into the wrist tendons, seeking the pressure point that would weaken the man’s grip. In a detached part of

his mind he remembered his grandfather doing something similar to save him and his mother from a grenade. He had smothered the

blast with his body, giving his life in exchange for theirs, and now he must do the same.

The Sanctus roared in pain as the thumb dug deeper. He tried to twist away and brought his arm down hard on the top of Gabriel’s

head. Once, twice the elbow driving the full force of the blow into his skull.

Gabriel held on, weathering the blows as best he could, unable to raise an arm to protect himself. He had to keep hold of the

Sanctus, if he let go then they were all lost. The blows continued to rain down and the jarring movement of them caused Gabriel’s

hand to slip. The Sanctus pulled his wrist free and the button fell from his numbed hand.

Gabriel kicked hard with his legs, digging into the earth and pushing them both a few inches further from the bed and the precious

people on it.

He reached for the hand again but the Sanctus had twisted it away far enough to keep it out of reach. The hand found the button

and Gabriel kicked again to try and jar it free or gain a few more precious inches.

But it was not enough.

He saw the hand close around the button and he shut his eyes, bracing himself, hoping the ground and his own body would absorb

enough of the blast to protect Liv and his child.

Shepherd came through the canvas screens on the opposite side to where the others had entered. The rider who had greeted them was

lying on the floor, a gunshot wound bleeding in his chest. Hevva was by the bed, her eyes fixed on the violent struggle taking

place on the floor. He stepped forward. Saw the hate burning in Merriweather’s face, saw the bomb, the newborn baby, the mattress

out of place, even the light on the stand burning like the sun had burned from the poster – all of it so familiar from Hogan’s

Alley and the other dark basement.

He raised the small gun he had taken from the woman and aimed it at Merriweather’s head, trying to put all that had happened

before from his mind.

The bullets are real – he told himself – and so is the bomb.

And Hevva is standing right by it.

His finger tightened on the trigger but Merriweather jerked away, swinging his other hand round. Shepherd saw the gun in it, saw

it angle down towards the man he was struggling with. He took a step forward, not caring about getting shot, only about narrowing

the gap and improving the accuracy of this tiny gun he had never fired.

The explosion was so loud Gabriel thought he must be dead. Even so he still clung on. He felt that if he could brace himself

against death, even for an extra few microseconds, it might make a difference to the living.

So much flashed though his mind in that moment, fragments of the life he was about to lose. He saw the baby he had barely glimpsed

growing into a – what? He didn’t even know if he had a son or a daughter and he would die not knowing. He would have liked to

have known his child and spent his life with Liv by his side. But this was not such a bad death, if his death meant life for them.

Then the echo of the gunshot rang away into the night.

And Gabriel opened his eyes.





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Shepherd sat on the edge of the water, tossing in stones. They sank beneath the surface, leaving no ripples, a tiny marker of the

new universal order.

After everything Kinderman had said about the new age of peace, killing Merriweather had seemed like a particularly obscene and

revolting act. He knew it had been unavoidable, but still …

He had drifted through the aftermath of the shooting on auto-pilot, clearing the area as if it was just a normal crime scene and

backup was on its way. But he was on his own out here and he felt the sadness settle on him like his darkest depressions had done

in the past. But there was one bright shaft of light shining through it all. Hevva was OK. He had saved his daughter.

Once the bomb was made safe he had called Franklin, old habits dying hard, and told him everything, using his partner like an old

-time priest who might hear his confession and forgive him his sins. And when Franklin hung up, promising to call back with more

news, he felt like he was all talked out and empty. He had handed on the baton of responsibility. He was free.

He stared out across the pool, the mirror of its surface reflecting the night sky. The night was cold, but he didn’t mind. He had

taken his jacket off and draped it over Hevva when she had curled up and fallen asleep in his lap. He sat like this for a long

time, just holding her until the phone buzzed again and he answered it quickly so as not to wake her.

‘It’s Franklin. I’m standing in Merriweather’s apartment looking at plans of Marshall, fake IDs, and a whole directory of

names that includes our good friend Fulton Cooper. Seems Merriweather was something of an archiver – you should see the

collection of old 45s he’s got here – he recorded everything, you couldn’t ask for a more smoking gun. There’s also some kind

of shrine in his basement, like an altar or something with a big T-shaped cross hanging on the wall – it’s a proper fanatic’s

home-from-home.’

Shepherd nodded but said nothing.

‘Listen, Shepherd, if you want me to arrange transport back, I can do that. Just tell me where you are and I’ll set the wheels

in motion.’

Shepherd looked up at the sky. ‘I think I’ll stay here a while,’ he said, watching Hubble twinkling like a new star. ‘It is

Christmas after all. Isn’t that when you spend time with family?’

‘I didn’t know you had a family.’

Shepherd felt Hevva stir in his arms, her head nuzzling him as she slept. ‘Neither did I. You should go home too, Ben – spend

some time with your family.’

‘I will, just as soon as I’ve arrested the guy behind the explosion at Marshall that nearly got us killed.’

Shepherd frowned. ‘Not Merriweather?’

‘No. He couldn’t possibly have got there before we did and set all that up in time.’

‘Who then?’





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Chief Ellery looked up from his desk as the door opened and a man wearing a black suit came in. He didn’t recognize him, but he

knew the Sheriff who walked in with him, a kid called Rogers, someone he’d known from back when he was still in uniform.

The suit showed him his FBI credentials, read the charges then Sheriff Rogers stepped forward to read him his rights, looking

slightly embarrassed about the whole thing. Ellery looked up at the photograph of his younger self. He’d never really wanted to

quit being a cop, but the Church had wanted to keep a close eye on NASA, maintaining its long tradition of suspicion regarding

science in general and astronomers in particular.

Sheriff Rogers finished Mirandizing him and stepped forward, reaching for the cuffs on his belt clip.

‘You don’t need to do that, son,’ Ellery said, rising from his chair. ‘I’m too old to make a run for it or try anything

stupid.’ He turned to the agent. ‘I’m surprised Agent Franklin didn’t come here to do this himself. I imagine he would have

enjoyed it.’

The agent shot him a cold smile. ‘Agent Franklin’s got bigger fish to fry.’

Franklin pulled up outside the large Colonial-style house, took a breath then got out of the car. He waited for the two-man arrest

team to join him on the porch before knocking loudly and smoothing his hand down over his tie. He smiled at the surprised-looking

woman who answered the door and turned down the offer of coffee as he walked across the hallway to where a news station could be

heard playing behind a door.

He rapped once out of courtesy then pushed the door wide without waiting for an answer.

Assistant Director O’Halloran looked up from the TV. Franklin saw surprise flash across his face, but he recovered quickly. ‘I

was expecting your report, Agent Franklin, not a house call.’

‘A draft version of my report has already been filed, sir. I sent it to Assistant Director Murray.’

The surprise returned but this time it stayed. ‘Might I ask why?’

‘Murray took over the covert running of Operation Fish, sir – after you tried to shut it down. It was felt that your reasons for

ending the investigation into highly placed and potentially influential Christians were not entirely robust.’ O’Halloran glanced

past Franklin and saw the two uniformed officers waiting in the hall. ‘I can tell you what’s in the report if you like, though I

’m sure you know how most of it goes – foot soldiers recruited and run by the Reverend Fulton Cooper through the Church of

Christ’s Salvation to fight the good fight against so-called “heretical scientific exploration” and the rising tide of

ungodliness, Chief Ellery at Marshall keeping his eye on James Webb, Merriweather over at Goddard doing the same for Hubble – all

of them controlled centrally by a well-placed puppet-master inside the FBI, feeding them information and their mission orders for

the greater good of the mother church you all serve.’

‘I assume your report contains proof?’

Franklin nodded. ‘Merriweather kept exceptionally detailed records – I guess it’s the risk you run if you start doing business

with paranoid conspiracy theorists. I have all the evidence I need of the “How?” – the only thing I don’t have is the “Why?”

’

O’Halloran steepled his fingers in front of him so it looked like he was praying but said nothing. Franklin nodded at the arrest

team and they moved out of the hallway and into the den. He stayed by the door, ready to move if he had too, remembering how it

had gone down with Cooper but O’Halloran just sat there, staring ahead while they read him his rights. When they had finished he

looked up at Franklin. ‘If you want to know the “why?”’ he said, ‘just look at what’s happening in the world. A judgement is

coming where all shall be held to account. I answer to His law above all others. I am ready to face my Lord, Agent Franklin – are

you?’

Franklin stared into his face, hardly recognizing the man before him now that the weird light had crept into his eyes. ‘I believe

in people, sir. If you spend as much time on the streets as I have, it’s hard not to. I used to believe in you, too, but when you

chose to partner me up with a rookie on a case as important as this, even someone with Shepherd’s science background, I started

having my doubts. It was as if you were setting out to hamper the investigation and limit its chances of success. But in the end,

sir, that’s where you made your biggest mistake. You underestimated the power of people – and you picked the wrong rookie.’





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Dawn rose over the compound, lighting up the dew on the grass and the unfurling petals of waking flowers and fresh blossom that

dripped between the green leaves of the trees.

Two figures emerged from the main building and moved through the morning mist that had drifted across the ground from the central

fountain of water. They walked in silence, though the way they were together told their story: he, with his arm round her waist;

she, leaning against him, her arms forming a natural cradle for the bundle of a sleeping baby.

They headed up the incline, bare feet leaving tracks in the wet grass that swept up the hill to the graves. The smell of loam and

earth rose from the mound of freshly dug dirt where the one who called himself Novus Sancti lay buried next to those he had called

his enemy.

The two figures moved higher to a spot where the grass covered an older grave, now fuzzed with green, a slab of granite at its

centre.

‘Here he is,’ the woman said, resting her head on the man’s chest. ‘I put the Starmap here because I wanted to mark it out in

some way. I thought it was something you would do, if you’d been here.’

Gabriel knelt down and wiped his hand across the surface of the Starmap, clearing the dew to reveal the symbols beneath. In the

middle of the second line an arrow pointed down, something Liv had always assumed meant ‘King’. Now, in the light of all that

had happened, she saw it was more general than that.

The Sacrament comes home and The Key looks to heaven

A new star is born with a new ruler on Earth to bring order to the end of days.

The baby began to stir in her arms as Gabriel hooked his fingers round the edge of the stone and hauled it over to reveal the

symbols on the other side.



The star that heralded the end of the old had new meaning for her now. It spoke of opposites coming together and a balance being

struck, for it was made up of two other symbols, the ones for the Citadel and for Eden. The symbol below also spoke of

reconciliation, though this one was far more personal. When she first saw it Liv thought it must refer to her in some sinister

way, the Tau with a line cutting through it. Now she realized what it was. It was the Tau and the sword combined, her symbol and

Gabriel’s together, creating something new entirely.

The baby wriggled and stretched in her arms, the hungry mouth searching for its mother. ‘What shall we call her? I was thinking

maybe Kathryn,’ Liv said, referring to the wife of the man lying buried beneath the stone – Gabriel’s mother.

Gabriel smiled and kissed the top of Liv’s head. ‘It’s a good name,’ he said. ‘Do you know what it means?’

The baby girl yawned, unaware of the wonderful new world she had been born into.

‘It means “pure” …’