The Icarus Agenda [antikvár]

PROLOGUEThe silhouetted figure in the doorway rushed into the dark, window-less room. He closed the door and, by rote, quickly made his way across the spotless black vinyl floor to a brass table lamp on his left. He switched on the light, the low-wattage bulb creating shadows throughout the confined, panelled study. The room was small and confining but not without ornamentation. The objets d'art, however, were neither from antiquity nor from the progressive stages of historical artistry. Instead, they represented the most contemporary equipment of high technology.The right wall glistened with the reflection of stainless steel, and the quiet whirr of a dust-inhibiting, dust-removing air conditioning unit ensured pristine cleanliness. The owner and sole occupant of this room crossed to a chair in front of a computer-driven word processor and sat down. He turned on a switch; the screen came alive and he typed in a code. Instantly, the bright green letters responded.Ultra Maximum Secure No Existing Intercepts ProceedThe figure hunched over the keyboard, his anxiety at fever pitch, and proceeded to enter his data.I Start this journal now for the events that follow I believe will alter the course of a nation. A man has come from seemingly nowhere, like an artless messiah without an inkling of his calling or his destiny. He is marked for things beyond his understanding, and if my projections are accurate, this will be a record of his journey I can only imagine how it began, but I know it began in chaos.