Cathedral

damages.

Prologue

It was a frightening experience... a terrifying ordeal! At such times, critical situations become serious foes.. They emerge as our most dangerous enemies causing havoc and chaos to instil profound fear. Often they prove that mankind can be completely helpless to cope with such developments in a civilised society. Sometimes they descend unrepentantly, cutting through reality like a shaft of light falling through a gap in the curtains. At other times, they creep into our lives like savage panthers stalking their prey in the darkness. On such occasions, there is a scarcity of emotion, no involvement of malice, no means to avenge, no vindictiveness, no move for justice, no sense of anything! For that reason, it should never have come about... but it did! Worst still, the ramifications were far beyond logic... far beyond the realm of dreams. Indeed. When calculated, the odds against it were likely to be astronomical but it was the result of naivety and ignorance... perhaps a simple mistake... a sheer accident. Nonetheless, the end result was stunning; enough to host a great deal of alarm, fear and suspicion, but then such matters draw on horror, to achieve effect/ On reflection, it might have been considered easier to have discovered the philosopher’s stone or the elixir of life or the secret of perpetual motion than for such a thing to come about. Yet destiny inspired in the incongruous way often beyond the understanding of mankind, manages to find a way to overcome the laws of probability and natural consequences because it did happen. Undeniably, there are many who believe firmly in the existence of the Cosmic Joker... a entity which lives in the spirit world that enjoys playing evil games with the lives of human-beings... of mere mortals. Those who do believe claim that it causes the majority of the coincidences and phenomenon to occur which tends to plague and astound most people on this planet. Whether such a view is true or not is incidental to this tale. But one thing is certain... the incident related below did happen! And furthermore, for the good or detriment of humanity, the process is almost certainly on-going... continuing at this moment... even now!

Chapter One

The pimply-faced youth sat studiously at the desk in his father’s study facing a computer screen with a determined expression on his face. His tired eyes flashed for a moment as the lids came down indicating an element of fatigue but his mental energies were at a sufficiently high level to stimulate him into wakefulness. He had been tapping out keys to find codes on the computer for the past two hours although the time seemed to evaporate like a thinly-veiled mist in the heat of the morning sun. Not surprisingly, his efforts continued to fail as experienced by many other computer hackers but he carried on working feverishly at the machine to his best ability in the hope of breaching someone’s database. Stephen Barnes was not particularly good at the task. At the age of sixteen, and still a pupil at a local schools, he was far ahead of his fellow colleagues in computer expertise. However, as with all hackers, he had never been trained in practising the art and it was literally a new field of operation for him. As far as he was concerned, it was simply a game and he did it for fun even though he knew that it was wrong or gave a moment’s thought that it was illegal. It was his flush of youth and the innocence it carried with it that carried that was the reason for him to ignore such boring fundamental laws. He felt it would be a feather in his cap if he could crack into a business database or other organisations. He also believed that having access to a computer was fair game for him to do anything he wanted with it. Not that he had ever succeeded into tapping any major source. Try as he could, he failed to hack into anyone else’s database. But the Cosmic Joker and fate was about to take a hand in the proceedings and things were about to change dramatically. This was going to be his lucky day. At school, he had learned the lesson of Robert Bruce and the spider to try, try and try again. Subsequently, despite numerous disappointments, and seeing the phrase ‘Access Denied’ many times on the computer screen, he was suddenly confronted with a list of files. At last he had done it! He sat back rather puzzled because there was no indication on the screen which organisation he had penetrated. Thrilled with success, he pressed on tapping the keys on the keyboard. It was exciting stuff... if only he could fathom out what next to do. Suddenly, all tiredness vanished from his face as he became primed for action.

He was in... but with whom? He surveyed the screen sullenly trying to make sense of the reason. He had always believed that after breaking into to a database he would be faced with a series of files. However, on this database, he found only five rectangles flashing on the screen, each with a small amount of text within it. The messages were extremely enigmatic... none of them making sense at all. What was happening here? What did it all mean? His brain ticked over at a rapid rate of knots unable to decode any part of it. He examined the words in the first rectangle, ‘Continued indoctrination of new recruits.’ What was that all about? He looked at the second one. ‘Inclusion into the system’. As he was about to read the third message, the door opened and his father entered the room. The man stared at his son with a snarl on his lips, indicating his foul mood, and he released his ill-temper on the boy.

‘Get off that computer, Stephen!’ he ordered brusquely, looking evilly at the boy. ‘Finish what you’re doing! I want to use it now!’

The young man’s face fell in despair. ‘Oh, Dad!’ he exclaimed disappointedly. ‘I’ve just hacked into a database. My first one. Give me ten minutes... just ten minutes!’

His father eyes him sternly. ‘Hacked!’ he muttered angrily. ‘Hacked into a database!’ He almost hissed like an angry snake. ‘Are you serious? You know it’s illegal! I won’t have it!.’ he snarled. ‘Not on my machine. Log off immediately!’

Stephen was about to mount a protest but, at that moment, his mother appeared at the door like the cavalry saving a solder in a Western movie.

‘Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,’ she announced firmly. ‘Don’t be late or it’ll get cold!’ She gave them both a searing look to ensure that her message got home before turning on her heel to return to the kitchen.

Barnes senior, snorted angrily and then decided to follow her leaving his son alone with the computer. Stephen felt his heart thumping like a steam-hammer as he continued to tap out a few more keys before realising that he was making no meaningful progress. Reluctantly, and mindful of his mother’s command, he unwitting pressed the wrong key on the keyboard which inwardly transmitted the information somewhere else. He tried to stop the process downloading but the action was irrevocable. And that was the start of the problem!

After dinner, his father used the computer for half-an-hour and then left the house to attend a meeting. From his bedroom window, Stephen watched him climb into his car and drive off. Satisfied he had a free hand to use the computer again, and would not be disturbed, he entered the study once more. Young Barnes sat at the computer and pressed some of the keys to establish his second success of his hacking career. He was finally beginning to get the hang of it. It was fantastic! He could hardly believe it. Nearly two years of failure and suddenly two successes in an hour. He soon discovered that the second one was the Employment Exchange in East Anglia. He pressed on wildly and that was when the accident... or mistake... began As soon as he penetrated the second database, he pressed the download section and released all the information from one database into the other. Within a few moments, all the data downloaded from the first organisation he had hacked into was installed into the programme of the Employment Exchange. The information in the two databases became incontrovertibly interacted with each other. The deed had been done; the stage was set; the problem was just about to start and, when they came, the impact would be devastating!

***

It all began on the following morning. John Trevelyan Parfitt, a refrigeration engineer living in East Anglia, who had recently become redundant because the company he worked for had gone into receivership, reported to his local Employment Exchange in the hope of finding a suitable job or some unemployment benefit.

Unmarried, with no family, the shock of termination from his employment causing him to dwell sadly on his misfortune and he had great difficulty in assimilating the event in his mind. The only thing that gave him a feeling of security was the swollen redundancy pay packet in his pocket but he knew that the sum wouldn’t last him very long. By the time he emerged from his malaise, he had been unemployed for almost a week and was desperate to find another suitable job. At the Employment Exchange, he went through the usual routine of filling in the appropriate forms which the female clerk examined carefully before tapping the information into the computer programme and searching through the date on line. After a short while, her face took on a serious expression and she appeared totally perplexed.

‘Strange,’ she muttered to herself. ‘The computer’s gone crazy. I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.’ She continued tapping out keys on the keyboard, her face becoming even more enigmatic as time went on. ‘This is idiotic!’ she complained with irritation in her voice. ‘Completely stupid! What’s gone wrong with the programme?’ She looked up at Parfitt momentarily. ‘I’m sorry about this but something weird’s happening in the system.’

The engineer stood quite still waiting for her to sort out the problem. There was little else that he could do. However his patience was eventually rewarded when she turned to him with an enthusiastic expression on her face.

‘At last!’ she told him jubilantly. ‘although I don’t know what the heck went wrong with it. It’s like someone’s entered another programme together with the existing one, and the two of them are running together./ She paused to think about her assertion and then shrugged her shoulders. ‘Anyhow, what’s come up is that a man with your name’s required at Cathedral.’ She stared at the computer screen again to check that the information was correct. ‘It’s crazy! It’s as though it knew you were coming here today looking for a job.’

‘At the Cathedral?’ His eyebrows raised at the comment as his voice expressed his amazement.

‘That’s what it says here. John Trevelyan Parfitt to go to cathedral. You are John Tevelyan Parfitt, aren’t you?

‘Yes,’ he replied.’

‘I entered your name into the system and the computer responded with the word ‘Match’. I don’t recall anything quite like this ever before..’

‘Which cathedral is it?’

She turned to the monitor again. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied with concern. ‘It doesn’t give that information. All it says is that when a match is found, I have to telephone a certain number.’

‘Are there any details about the pay?’ he asked with a worried expression.

She turned back again at the screen. ‘Nothing about the job or the pay. All it says is that I have to ring a telephone number.’

‘Well you’d better do so and find out what it’s all about.’

She picked up the telephone receiver and dialled the number waiting until there was a response at the other end of the line. The conversation was extremely brief and she replaced the receiver to give him an instruction. ‘They’re going to pick you up from here in ten minutes,’ she told him. ‘That’s all I was told.’

‘Who’s picking me up?’ he asked naively. ‘What are we talking about... the bishop... the local vicar?’

‘I don’t know,’ she returned bleakly. ‘He was very short and sharp on the telephone.’

‘Well which Cathedral is it?’

‘He didn’t say. He just asked me for you name and said that someone would pick you up in ten minutes time from here.’

The applicant stared at the woman bleakly. ‘That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it?’ he muttered. ‘I mean to start with, I’ve never known a cathedral to need a full-time refrigeration engineer.’

‘Nor have I,’ admitted the clerk, ‘but it’s quite clear here on the computer. No name, no address, no details, just a phone number.‘’

’It’s a full-time job, isn’t it? I don’t want part-time work.

‘ think it is but it doesn’t say.’

Parfitt shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. ‘And they didn’t mention anything about the pay.’

‘I didn’t get a chance to ask him. He hung up as soon as he gave me the message.’

‘Oh well,’ retorted the engineer rationally. ‘I’ll find out when he gets here. Maybe then I’ll find out what it’s all about.’

‘He said he’d pick you up outside.’

Parfitt nodded and left the Employment Exchange as the woman returned her attention to the delinquent computer system. Little did either of them realise that they were suffering from the legacy left to them by Stephen Barnes, the schoolboy computer hacker.

The engineer stood outside waiting for someone to arrive to pick him up, standing in the brilliant sunshine. A Cathedral needing a refrigeration expert! It didn’t make sense! Why would a Cathedral need him on a full-time basis? Why wasn’t there the usual details such as the name of the Cathedral or the address? And why couldn‘t he just go there by himself? He found the sequence of events extremely puzzling and he was curious to learn the answers to all his questions. As he inhaled deeply, a small white van stopped outside. The driver leaned across to look through an open window and he called him by name. Parfitt nodded and entered the vehicle on the passenger‘s side.

‘Which Cathedral are we going to?’ he asked bluntly as soon as he had taken his seat and strapped himself in. .

‘Don’t take the mickey!’ snapped the driver sharply. ‘I forgot. You’re the prankster, aren’t you? I’ve been told you’re a joker. Well you don’t need to be funny with me. You can cut out all the fun stuff as far as I’m concerned. They advised you not to ask questions until you get to your destination!

‘What are you talking about?‘ demanded the engineer with a tinge of anger creeping into his voice. ‘There was no information available at the Employment Exchange!’

‘Don’t insult my intelligence! Snapped the driver. ‘It’s a long journey so keep your mouth shut. It’s best all round!’

Parfitt fell into silence why a Cathedral had employed such a rude belligerent driver. It was all very strange. After a short while, he built up enough courage to approach the man again. But, after staring at the face of the driver, he decided to hold his tongue for the time being. However, as the vehicle proceeded swiftly in an eastern direction, he started to become extremely agitated.

Unable to keep silent any longer he demanded: ‘Where are we going. Where the hell is this Cathedral?’

‘You’re Parfitt, aren’t you? John Trevelyan Parfitt!’ retorted the driver with a mean expression on his face.

‘That’s me.’

‘You’re unmarried... available!

‘Yes... I’m unmarried and available for work.’

‘Then stop horsing around! I told you to cut out the funny stuff! You’ve been told what it’s all about!’

‘Stop this vehicle immediately!’ ordered the engineer. ‘I’ve had enough of this! I only wanted a job, that’s all. I didn’t ask for a ride out to the coast with a bloody-minded driver like you.’

‘Shut up and keep quiet!,‘ commanded the other man angrily.

‘I will not!’ riposted Parfitt furiously. opening the van door as if to jump out even though it was speeding along at a very fast rate. ‘I said stop the van and let me off!’

‘Will you close that door!’ snapped the driver, pulling fiercely at the engineer’s arm. He pressed his foot sharply on the brake and pulled into to the side of the road. ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ he snarled, pulling Parfitt by his shirt collar and shaking him hard against the seat. ‘Look here, matey!’ he spat savagely. ‘Shut up and keep still! you’re beginning to get on my nerves! Now close that bloody door!‘’

He released his passenger and started the engine again as the door was closed. Parfitt sat fearfully in his seat. The driver was a very large man and he began to fear for his life. Any serious confrontation would leave him injured to say the least. It really wasn’t worth it. But what could they want with him... and where were they going?

His prayers were answered shortly because it wasn’t long before they arrived at Harwich Docks. The driver indicated for him to alight from the vehicle and he stood on the quayside looking nervously about him, staring at some of the ships docked there. Then suddenly the penny dropped. That was it! The Cathedral had to be the name of one of the vessels requiring his expertise at the docks. It had to be! There could be no other reason. But why didn’t they explain that to him from the start? It would have been the simplest and honest thing to do!

‘Well come on then!’ shouted the driver tiredly as he looked behind him. ‘What are you waiting for> Come on!’ Parfitt shadowed the man to one of the vessels and followed him nervously on board. ‘Moryova das tang catan,’ uttered the driver to a sailor which the engineer took to mean something like ‘take him to his cabin’.

‘Is this ship called The Cathedral?’ asked Parfitt in the hope of obtaining some useful information relating to his new employment, as he pursued the sailor down some steps and along a corridor. To his dismay, the man shrugged his shoulders and muttered something in a foreign language. It was patently obvious that even if he could speak English, he preferred not to do so.

Once installed in a cabin, the engineer sat quietly on the bed gathering his thoughts and trying to keep down his anger at the negligent treatment offered him. There had to be something he could do to determine his predicament. And then his mind drifted to the Captain. He was the highest authority on the vessel who would deal with his complaint and set the books straight. He left the cabin, finding his way back to the steps and he climbed to the main deck to face an officer in a shabby uniform.

‘Are you the Captain of this rust bucket?’ he demanded furiously.

The officer stared at him for a moment before speaking in clipped English. . ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I am the Captain of this ship.’

‘Well what the hell is going on?’ blustered the passenger irately. ‘Why am I here? What sort of job are you offering me. I have a right to know!’

‘You are John Parfitt, aren’t you?’ returned the Captain calmly.

‘Yes I am but I want to know what’s going on? I applied for a job as a... ’

‘That’s correct,’ interrupted the officer sharply, ‘and you were chosen especially for it. You must have been otherwise you would not be here. Now... if you’ll kindly return to your cabin, we’ll be sailing shortly.’

‘Sailing!’ gasped the engineer, staring at the other man with astonishment. ‘Sailing where? Where to? Where are we going?’

‘Please... don’t stretch my patience!’ returned the Captain. ‘You know quite well what this is all about. I heard that you were a practical joker but this is a serious business. I’ve no time for fun and games!’ Turning his head, he gave an instruction to one of the sailors on deck in a foreign language and Parfitt was take by the arm and led down the steps again to his cabin. Only this time, when he tried to leave, he discovered that the door had been locked on the outside. With only a small porthole in the cabin there was no way out. What the hell was going on? He reflected on his movements that morning. He had gone to the Employment Exchange to find a job and the female clerk had told him that there were problems with her computer system. Then she found a job for him but there was no name except ‘Cathedral’ and no address... only a telephone number. Whoever was at the other end of the telephone line seemed to know him by name because it was already on the computer. He had been picked up outside the premised by a man in a white van, driven directly to Harwich Docks and taken on board a vessel. Now the ship was going to sail to some unknown destination, and no one was willing to answer any questions. It was all rather incredible to say the least. Did they think he was a spy and were sailing to Russia for him to claim asylum? The thought of trying to escape entered his mind but it was far too late for that now. He was incarcerated in a cabin with only a small porthole... much too tiny for him to squeeze through. He was going to have to suffer the journey they had planned for him... wherever it took him!

Eventually the engines started up and the ship moved slowly out of the harbour into the North Sea. Some time after it had left the dock and was well out to sea, the door was unlocked and he was allowed to go to the bridge where he faced the Captain.

‘Okay,’ he said tiredly, hardly expecting to hear an answer, ‘Now can you tell me where we’re going?’

‘Iceland,’ replied the Captain with disinterest, staring at some charts.

‘Iceland!’ gasped Parfitt in amazement. ‘What on earth is there in Iceland? What sort of job’s waiting for me there?’

‘Well it’s not actually Iceland,’ continued the Captain, ignoring the other man’s curiosity. ‘We’re sailing to Surtsey off the Westmann Eyjar, the Western Islands, south west of Iceland. It’s a volcanic island with an active volcano.’

‘you’re joking, of course. Where’s the Cathedral?’

‘Well you know a great deal about that already, don’t you?’

‘No, I don’t!’ I haven’t a clue what’s going on. That’s why I’m asking you now.’

The Captain looked up and searched the engineer’s face for a few moments. ‘Yes,’ he uttered with a smile touching the corners of his mouth,’ you’re definitely a practical joker. Let me give it to you point-blank. We’ve no sense of humour on this ship so you may as well save it for someone else when you get there.’

Parfitt inhaled deeply. Why did everyone keep calling his a practical joker? It was getting on his nerves! ‘Why Iceland... why Surtsey? His mind flashed back to his limited knowledge of geography. He had never heard of the Western Islands or the island of Surtsey before. He couldn’t understand why he was being taken to a volcanic island on the edge of the world. It was probably uninhabited. Maybe that was the reason it had been chosen.’

‘Tell me a little about Surtsey,’ he asked politely.