Sentinel: The Race Against Dark Energy Read online

  SENTINEL

  Saul Casey, an Oxford University student inadvertently harnesses universal energy into his mobile phone from an ancient relic and unwittingly becomes a ‘Sentinel’ charged with saving the universe from Dark energy.

  Dedicated to: someone loyal, whom I’m yet to meet.

  “Everything is energy and that’s all there is to it. Match the frequency of the reality you want and you cannot help but get that reality. It can be no other way. This is not philosophy, this is physics.” – Albert Einstein.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1: London in the summer

  Chapter 2: The British Museum

  Chapter 3: E=Mc2

  Chapter 4: Becoming a sentinel.

  Chapter 5: H20 - Atlantis.

  Chapter 6: The Emerald Tablet

  Chapter 7: Destroying The Tablet

  Chapter 8: Westworld

  Chapter 9: Re-Group

  Chapter 10: 3000AD

  Chapter 11: Exit Strategy

  Chapter 12: Back at the museum

  Chapter 13: Time magazine.

  Chapter 1: London in the summer

  London is eternally winter in the mind. Its name conjures images of the cold, rain-drenched overcoats and days so dimly lit, even a newsagents looks bright, warm and inviting. But not today! Today, it was late June and the capital had just entered a record-breaking heat wave. Three days in and already people were rolling their eyes and shaking their heads at newspaper stand headlines proclaiming droughts and hosepipe bans. The temperature was in the mid- eighties and the already polluted air was thick, musty and fume-filled. It was a Saturday, and as the acrid exhaust fumes brought the city to life, Moose and Saul were driving up through town, in Moose’s American army-surplus jeep. They only had eyes for the girls and thoughts of the end of term party that evening.

  Moose and Saul were roommates at Magdalen College, Oxford University. Moose was tall and large, very large. The clue was in the name, he would tell people since the age of sixteen, when he really started shooting up in earnest. An American from California, he loved everything about surfing, except actually surfing. He loved the boards - he had two, the shirt designs, the fashions, the girls and the ocean. But, his bulk meant he couldn’t effectively surf. He remained the coolest bystander anyone had ever seen. Moose was a throw-back to juvenile American frat films, which no matter how absurd the plot all had a central character who drank too much, loved girls and managed to keep a huge body in shape with no exercise and a staple diet of fast food and beer. He had his own page on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin and even created his own social network, to cater for frustrated surfers who couldn’t get to a beach. He was a techy without being a nerd and loved gaming online and all night. He had few real-world friends and preferred his cyber-buddies and their obligatory conspiracy theories.

  Moose possessed an intellect larger than his physical size and was destined to be a Doctor. This was partly due to his famously absent family paying his way through university and therefore insisting upon it and partly due to his boyish theory of seeing women naked.

  Saul and Moose met their very first day in university when Moose stepped in to prevent a bunch of ‘upper-class wankers’ from intimidating Saul about his scholarship. As they began name dropping relatives and ancestors, Moose barged into the group knocking two sideways and grabbed Saul by the scruff of his collar, holding him at arm’s length. “You know the main thing about guys who win scholarships?” he barked. Saul shook his head. “They usually got brains instead of parents who own half of fucking Gloucestershire...You're rooming with me!” Then Moose marched the startled Saul off into his room, dropping his grip and releasing him, before nonchalantly striking up a conversation about sexually transmitted diseases in the wives of Roman Emperors. It was then Saul realised he was going to be this guy’s friend whether he liked it or not. He liked it.

  Moose was Moose Maynard. Nobody except the registrar at the university knew his real name. The tutors called him Mister Maynard and his peers all called him Moose, afraid to enquire any deeper.

  Saul was Saul Ripley, came from working class stock and had never fitted in. Described as a dreamer by the rank and file of his home town, his brothers and parents all thought the same but simply went with it and never broke ranks to agree with anyone from outside the family. Saul knew they all wanted him to follow suit and get a ‘normal’ job, which wouldn’t ruffle anyone’s feathers but university was his ticket out of the groundhog-day life, that terrified him. And after all it gave his parents that ability to brag to the neighbours and gave him the excuse to move away and never return home permanently. He saw it as a breathing space for a few precious years, while he figured out what and where he really wanted to be.

  Saul was bright. Not just academically, which had won him his scholarship, but quick witted, good with people and he managed that rare balancing act of being liked by both girls who wanted to be with him and the boys who responded to his natural confidence. He was handsome. Dark hair, swept over a dark complexion meant he resembled a leading man straight out of period costume drama. Saul hadn’t yet figured out what career he’d pursue after uni, but felt that something creative beckoned and was more concerned with harnessing his talents than simply looking to make millions.

  As they drove through the city in their open-topped jeep, the friends were embroiled in one of their famously disjointed conversations. Saul sat with his feet up on the dashboard, iphone plugged in, listening to music and tapping out drum-beats on any and all surfaces, whilst Moose drove in his inimitable kamikaze style of high-speed, frequent lane changes. The journey was punctuated with Moose repeating himself on every sentence as he battled not only with the London traffic, but Saul’s musical preferences.

  The two partners in crime had developed a rapport that was reminiscent of an old married couple. They had the ability to comment on people and events occurring around them without looking at them directly. Although predictably, this talent was mostly applied to beautiful women and a scoring system based upon comparisons to ex-girlfriends.

  Saul was en route to the British Museum for the first part of a university end of term tradition, known as ‘Sophistication & Intoxication’, which began some years earlier before his time and was built upon two compulsory elements. The first being a highbrow event to be held at a suitable establishment, where they were expected to indulge in articulate and thought provoking activities. Followed by a themed party later that same day which would invariably include the emergency services, naked contact sports and girls crying, after discovering their boyfriends with their best friends. The plan was Saul would attend the sophistication with Moose showing up for the intoxication. In the meantime Moose was on reconnaissance duty, which included supplies and more often than not, the entrapment of females with a highly dubious cover story. They had both previously been Pilots, professional surfers, American football pros and club DJ’s on tour.

  The capital was already in full flow. Heavy traffic, people shouting indiscriminately, shoppers and tourists swarming in and out of doorways along the route, and as the two friends drove up Oxford Street from Marble Arch towards Holborn, the atmosphere was carnival-like, with the sunshine creating that quintessentially British tradition of bringing people onto the streets, in clothes they hadn’t worn for years. Cut down shorts, cropped tops and short skirts in bright colours. All wearing big smiles on their lobster-pink faces.

  Moose pulled up just in front of the Museum, his driving style akin to that of a Parisian delivery man running late and annoying taxi drivers, sat waiting in their designated pick-up zone. Saul finally removed his earphones and j
umped out onto the pavement checking through their military-style operation. “OK So, what shall we say - Back here at Four O’Clock?” Saul suggested. Moose shrugged and just smiled broadly, “OK” He finally murmured.

  “You got the list?” Saul checked, knowing his partner’s famously unreliable character trait. “Yeah, Yeah” Moose responded quickly. “Just go and do whatever it is you do, and say hello to her for me.” Moose was glancing up at a large group of students already gathered outside the museum milling around chatting.

  Saul turned to look and there, stood at the top of the steps was a long dark haired girl being entertained by five male students all of which were vying for her attention. Saul did his best to put on his nonchalant voice. “Oh - I didn’t know she’d be here!” He lied. “Well stay outta trouble until I get back, cos laughing boy’s here.” Moose ordered, spotting the boyfriend. Then he planted the accelerator and sped off into oncoming traffic, just managing to miss everything as he changed lanes with eerie timing. Saul shouted after him “And if you’re gonna bring women, make sure I don’t get lumbered with paying them at the end of the night!” His words were draped in exhaust fumes billowing out of the 40 year old vehicle and he coughed as he turned to face the enemy, composing himself into what he thought was his cool demeanor.

  “Nervous then!” came a comment from just behind him as a delicate hand grabbed his shoulder. Saul span round to see a small curly haired girl, with a knowing look on her elfin face. “Of course not” he snapped, “ What’s there to be nervous about?” He said with obvious defence. “You always get nervous when she’s around.” Said the girl reaching up to close his mouth.

  Joining the girl came a tatty looking chap more concerned with his mobile phone; texting as he spoke “Is he nervous already?” He said without looking up. “OF COURSE” said the girl grabbing Saul’s arm and marching him off up the steps with her boyfriend texting behind them.

  The pair were Amy and Ronald. They had met in the first year and stayed together ever since moving in to share rooms soon after. Every intake has a pair. They act 20 years older than they are, never leave each other’s side, are always the first to get married in the real world and always offer advice which is not wanted, but invariably comes true. They also roomed next door to Moose and Saul and the boys could hear them having sex often, which only served to highlight their own lack of romantic dalliances.

  Some nights, Saul and Moose would jump up and down on their own beds noisily shouting sexual comments and mimicking orgasms until Amy and Ronald would shout back acknowledging their indiscretion.

  Amy was liked by all and was one of those types who you could never really object to. She was quite pretty but not beautiful, had an ear when people needed it and generally didn’t interfere unless requested. She had that ability to pop up just when needed and had no problem with boys being boys, often helping out with ludicrously complex plans to get people partnered up. Although this became her calling card and often when she began softening up a fellow female student for one of the boys to date, she was compared to a pervert grooming his victim and it soon resulted in her having few female friends. Her boyfriend was actually named Ben, but with a surname like MacDonald it wasn’t long before the rhyming slang gave birth to his new name, which stuck long after he left university and began a career in the city.

  Amy escorted Saul up the steps towards the group of male students all performing around the beautiful dark haired girl and battling for just a smile or furtive look. As they approached, the group’s attention was so firmly fixed on her that they didn’t notice them and so Amy simply shouted loudly “Hi Guys!” which sent three of the men spinning around to see Saul looking awkwardly rigid and wearing a nervous grin.

  “Hi Amy,… Hi Saul” said the guys in broken unison, obviously bored by his presence. Saul raised his hand in a silent greeting and as the three men broke ranks, they stepped back to reveal two further men still chatting away intently to the dark haired beauty. The girl was slim, dark and stunningly beautiful. She possessed a voice, which was deep, smacked of education, finishing school & years of breeding. Saul had only heard a voice like it in a sexy chocolate commercial. The girl was ’Nell’ and she smiled slightly as she looked away from the remaining two male combatants to greet Saul and Amy.

  “Hi Saul” she whispered in her frothy, latte tone. Saul quickly responded with one of his famously funny lines, before realising everyone was looking at him and his words hadn’t made it outside of his head! “Hi Nell.” he said curtly with vast open spaces in the midst of his dialogue. Amy shoved him. “You could have made an effort!” Saul said coming back into the moment with his characteristic cheek. Everyone was stunned! But Nell began to smile, “An effort?” she confirmed coyly. Amy scrunched her face up into a painful looking smile and grabbed the arms of the two boys nearest to her as if linking to walk, but Saul was smiling and realised he was in! “ Yeah - an effort! I mean don’t expect me to escort you around the museum looking like that!”

  Amy and the two men she’d linked arms with, all looked at Saul in his shoddy boots, combat trousers and faded ‘T’ shirt, then glanced at Nell in her perfectly fitted size eight Armani jeans and Channel top, painted nails and flowing hair. One of the remaining men stepped forward aggressively “You won’t be escorting Nell anywhere charity boy!” He scowled, stepping up close and pushing his face into Saul’s. But Nell was smiling and Saul was the only one to notice as his eyes never left hers.

  Nell grabbed the man by his arm and attempted to calm the confrontation. “Hey calm down Stephan, Saul’s ok, he doesn’t mean anything, he’s a classmate. You don’t need to protect me from my classmates!” Stephan was Nell’s boyfriend and ensured everyone was aware of it. Stephan DeBrecht was son of Lord and Lady DeBrecht a banking dynasty of Castlehome, an ancient family seat near Newbury. Stephan was a dark character. Dark of appearance and dark in nature. He stood six-feet tall with a mop of brown hair and very thick eyebrows which gave his eyes a menacing deep-set look. He was privileged, wealthy and extremely ambitious. He stood to inherit millions from his family upon their death and he couldn’t wait. Having been brought up by a string of nannies and boarding schools, Stephan was distant from his parents and had little affection for them. Their relationship with him was more of a business and it showed. Nevertheless, he was handsome and Nell had fallen under his spell some months before.

  It had been hard to ignore the advances of a handsome, swarthy man set to inherit Fifty Million and a family estate. Nell liked him and enjoyed spending time with him, although his limited affection and stunted relationship skills ensured she stayed wary and she had developed an agility in coping with him. She knew he dated other girls behind her back but couldn’t bring herself to use this as leverage to ditch him, as there was also the dutiful side to her.

  Nell was the blood relative of the only other famous ‘Nell’ she knew. Nell Gwyn. Her ancestors had kept the name alive through various females down through generations and she was the latest. Her parents were also landed gentry, although hers was a vastly different story. Nell’s parents were penniless! She was set to inherit nothing but debts and her father had done a sterling job of keeping this hidden from the outside world and many of his closest family. Nell was his eldest daughter and his only trusted ally in a world of social climbing.

  Nell had a very good reason to be Stephan’s girl and if they were to marry, then Nell felt sure she could cope with a loveless relationship easier than seeing her beloved father ruined in full gaze of the hyenas that were her parents’ social circle. Plus she was convinced that should it come out, her mother would undoubtedly leave through shame and sentence her father to a downward spiral of drinking bouts.

  “So charity-boy, remind me what you’re studying at the taxpayers expense” Stephan said insultingly. Saul didn’t hesitate. “Fine Art and Politics. I’m either going to run the world, or design tee shirts for the guy who runs the world. Either way, I’m putting my dent in the universe. What ab
out you? I’m surprised they let you off your Saturday job at Daddy’s bank, to come today!” Stephan lurched forward with a crazed look about him but Nell and the other men grabbed him pulling back and turning him away in one motion, with Nell firing a mischievous look across Saul’s bow.

  The group of students all began moving inside the museum with the collective co-ordination of a herd of prey animals and as Nell turned away surrounded by her circle of bodyguards, Amy simultaneously patted Saul’s back in sympathy whilst holding her other arm around her boyfriend Ronald, who was still

  Hypnotised, by his mobile phone and his obsessive-compulsive disorder of texting.

  Chapter 2: The British Museum

  The British museum never fails to deliver. No matter how many times you visit, you can depend on seeing the heads of all who enter, drawn up in wonder at the glazed ceiling of the Great court and its intricate geometrical framework. All of Saul’s student companions had been several times before, but one by one, with the certainty and timing of a metronome, you could watch them all tilt their heads back like puppets on a string and enjoy the masterpiece of glass. The roof is equally as famous as the exhibits with one interesting difference. When studying the exhibits of human history and culture from all over the globe, people felt compelled to stay silent, in quiet contemplation. But when studying the glass edifice, designed by the architects Foster and Partners and becoming the largest covered square in Europe, they felt compelled to express themselves, becoming vocal and opinionated.

  As the group of young scholars all milled around the main atrium, chatting and planning that night’s party, their tutor arrived. James Pugh, a tall Welshman. A Professor of Classical Archaeology and Ancient History, who’d been teaching undergraduates for twenty two years and was looking forward to retirement. He began collecting up the ‘rabble’ as he called them and ushering them into a semi-organised group, which he assumed was more controllable. At the set of steps leading off to the Egyptian room he turned and stood on the first step to address his audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, I say gentlemen assuming I’m not addressing any Lords, Dukes, Baronets, Right Honourables or any other titled landed gentry? The assembled group all laughed then a solitary voice from the back faintly piped up, “Charles will be a Duke Sir!” The group laughed again. “Yes thank you for that Mr. Kenning, but bearing in mind I had drinks with his father the 9th Duke of Bedford on Friday last, during which the current Duke displayed an indefatigable robustness and physical presence which did not betray any near-death condition, I am consoled to say that we might all be saved from his imminent succession.” The group all laughed at their fellow student and he smiled sarcastically back at them. The Professor continued. “Might I say what a pleasure it is to be asked to chair this first segment of your now infamous end of term celebration, which I hope will not contain a repeat of last years pastiche of the Roman Bath scene in the main fountains.” Again the group of students all laughed and nodded their heads in remembrance of their most famous prank yet.