The Celtic Conspiracy (16 page)

Once, the only recognized subjects of international law were the states, not the people living in them. However, an increasing number of jurists throughout the world tended to view the entirety of humankind as a single subject of international law. If the international community were to get involved in this, the consequences would be incalculable. For example, no more trees could be cut down in the Brazilian rainforest without the agreement of a community of nations. The claim on cultural assets would also be affected—the pyramids, for instance, or the Buddha statues in Afghanistan, for which it was, sadly, too late. Ultimately the claim on historical truth would change as well.

“You’re referring to the efforts of Jackson O’Connor?” Jennifer knew the Irish foreign minister from her time in Brussels. O’Connor was an honorable man through and through, with a modern understanding of international law, even if he was as much of a dreamer as MacClary.

“Well, that too. He has always implied that the Irish government is prepared to return all Celtic cultural assets to the descendants in their own countries. And in the same way that Israel is the promised land for the Jews, Ireland is the promised land for the Celts.”

“But how in the world are we going to make the Vatican open its archive? Even if we could, they’d have enough time to clear everything out and hide it somewhere else. I mean, what do you want to do, get a search warrant from the United Nations?”

MacClary’s expression grew more thoughtful. “I want a signal, Jennifer. A beacon, you could call it. You don’t always have to win a trial to achieve justice or even equity.”

“In other words, you want to embarrass them. In reality, it’s not about justice or equity; you just want to embarrass them.”

“Wait until we see what Thomas and the others have uncovered. If Thomas says he’s found some piece of crucial evidence, then he has.”

* * *

MacClary was trying to calm himself down. As he reached for the phone to call the Austrian authorities and have them unobtrusively secure the site, his father’s last words came to mind. Sean MacClary had once said that the reason Rome was so afraid of his work was because he knew how to combine knowledge and rationality with a convincing logic. Had anyone seen Moses receive the Ten Commandments or Zeus help Julius Caesar to victory? He had never enjoyed destroying a person’s faith, but the religion that the Catholic Church preached was nothing more or less to him than theater for children, a ridiculous and primitive story, as despicable in its acts as it was dangerous.

He could have no way of knowing the spectacular way that the Curia would soon rush to his aid.

The other two were at the entrance packing everything in airtight containers for transport when Shane felt himself pulled again into the room with the stone. He knew of no definitive meaning for the spiral, but scholars often believed it to be symbolic of the soul’s aspiration to higher spheres. In Ireland, it was often just a symbol for the sun.

Shane had another theory: the spiral stood for time and space. For the Druids, time wasn’t linear. It had a beginning and an end, but in between the soul could access everything that had ever happened and anything that would happen. Was that what Ryan had meant when he had explained the theory of the morphogenetic field?

Shane sat down on the stone to gather his thoughts. He had been deeply moved by the evidence left behind by the Druids. How could anyone call the standard-bearers of this culture barbarians? The longer he thought about it, the greater his respect grew for their love of creation and the true divine miracles.

He lay down on his back and suddenly noticed how the stone’s spiral was recreated on the ceiling in light, like a living galaxy. Sinking into what was becoming a familiar trance, he could again feel every cell in his body, each one tingling, and he saw the same collage-like pictures from history in his mind’s eye. He could recognize people and feel what they had suffered over the past seventeen hundred years from the hegemony of the Christians and the Church’s contempt for humankind. He saw Native Americans shot down by British troops, Australian Aborigines driven from their own country like cattle. He saw the enslavement of Arabian and African tribes, women burned in Europe, and so many more horrible things, until he completely dissolved in tears. He took a deep breath. He had begun to understand that he too bore responsibility for ending this insanity. In order for humans—all humans—to be able to heal, understand, and forgive, everyone had to be aware of the beginning of the story. Otherwise there would never be true justice.

He stood up and looked around the cave one last time. It must be so difficult for Thomas to leave this place without being able to see everything. Stored inside this library cave was the legacy of his family. How many more secrets did it hold? He couldn’t resist the temptation to pull one more parchment out from one of the lower chambers. The scroll was a bit damp, but it opened quite easily.

“Adam, damn it!” Deborah said, shocking him with her presence. “We agreed that you wouldn’t touch anything on your own.”

She knelt down by Shane, only then noticing his tears. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Deborah, the historic truth of this place is immeasurable. I doubt if people will be ready to accept it, because to do so means acknowledging that we’ve been on the wrong path for so long.”

Deborah studied the parchment in his hands for a moment. “You picked out a very appropriate one,” she said, pointing at the document.

“What do you mean?”

“This was written by a Druid speaking about the return of the Druids. He says that they will return when people are ready to remember and to end the dark age. He goes on to talk about a legend. I’ll try to translate this in Dublin because I can’t do it here, but it talks of bringing to the world a new balance and about a few women and men who will make a beginning. The name of the Druid author is Dubdrean.”

“Well, we’ve found more Druids in a couple of hours than archaeologists have managed to find in more than a thousand years.” Shane held up the scroll. “Can we take this one with us too?”

“Actually, we have to. Otherwise it will fall apart. I’ll see if I can find another box. Then the two of us have to drive back to Dublin as quickly as we can.”

Shane was doubly confused. “Drive? I thought we’d be flying. And why just the two of us?”

“Ryan is going to stay here and watch over everything until the archaeologists from Vienna take over. Meanwhile,
we could hardly board an airplane with this sensational cargo. We’ll drive through France, take the car ferry, then go through England, and then catch the ferry at Holyhead. At that point, everything will go into a prepared room that MacClary is setting up to preserve the scrolls.”

Shane just accepted this. What else could he do? He didn’t like the thought of leaving Thomas here by himself, but he tried to push aside this uneasy feeling. He was far too preoccupied with what he had just experienced and what was written on the scroll that Deborah had translated for him.

Could all this really be true? The Druids had been, among other things, doctors, jurists, and knowledge-hungry academics with incredible powers of recollection, which they had maintained because of their ban on writing, but they also had a tendency toward exaggerated hero worship. He thought again about the spiral. If time wasn’t linear and souls could exist without form and body in this nonlinear time, then it was possible that reincarnation was really the creation of a single large memory. Was it possible that more and more people were remembering?

Thomas’s voice tore him away from his thoughts. “Adam, we’re ready. Could you help Deborah carry up the boxes and put them in the van? I’ll close up the chambers as well as I can.”

Shane turned toward Thomas. “So you’re really going to stay here?”

“At least long enough to make sure that the real professionals can take over.”

I guess you know what you’re doing
, Shane thought.

* * *

About five minutes later, innkeeper Georg Winter looked out his office window in the nearby inn and saw two figures carrying boxes through the dark. He called his son, who was just finishing up the orders for the next day. Unsure whether they should call the police, they just watched.

* * *

In the bushes on the other side of the parking lot, Cassidy, Salvoni, and a Vatican police officer could see the silhouette of the proprietor in the window of the inn. They didn’t want witnesses at this point, so they wouldn’t be able to stop MacClary’s friends from saving some artifacts.

“Make sure that someone follows them until we can figure out what they’ve found there,” Salvoni ordered. “As soon as they’re gone, we’re going into the cave.”

Cassidy slowly walked down the mountain, where a few men were waiting for the order to go into action.

A short while later, Salvoni called Cassidy.

“Were there originally two or three of them?” Salvoni asked nervously.

“Three. Why?”

“Because only two of them got into the car.”

“Then the gentleman is asking for it. We should go in now.”

* * *

MacClary had reported the find to the Austrian Foreign Ministry and was a bit puzzled by their lack of enthusiasm. The authorities told him they would get back to him tomorrow. He couldn’t leave Ryan alone for so long in the cave. After pacing around the house a bit, he asked Jennifer to stay by the phone with Ruth and took a taxi to the American embassy.

The building on Elgin Road was impressive, as beautiful as nearly all the US embassies in Europe that were housed in historic buildings. MacClary possessed the rare privilege of being able to use an office in the embassy at any time. He occasionally took advantage of this when he wanted absolutely no interruptions, when he just wanted a change of scenery, or when he had to make confidential telephone calls over a secure line. Immediately after he settled in, he called the American ambassador in Vienna.

* * *

Dave Atkinson was busy at this late hour and the ringing phone surprised him. “American embassy, Atkinson,” he said, his voice ringing through the office.

“Hello, Dave. It’s Ronald MacClary.”

“Ronald! To what do I owe the honor at this ungodly hour?” The two men had worked together on a United
Nations commission devoted to understanding the Yugoslavian war.

“Dave, I need to ask you a favor without your asking me too many questions. I can assure you that it’s extremely important to an international case involving an American citizen.”

“I wouldn’t honor that request from many people, but I will from you, Ronald.”

“I appreciate that, Dave. In two or three hours, two people, a young man and a young woman, will come by to see you. The two of them have documents in their possession with which they will not be able to get through airport security. I’d like you to give them diplomatic passports so that they’ll have an allowance for diplomatic pouches. Their destination is the American embassy in Dublin.”

This intrigued Atkinson, but he’d already agreed not to ask questions. “How quickly do you need the passports?”

“I need you to have them ready when they arrive. Their names are Deborah Walker and Adam Shane. Deborah is Irish, Shane is Austrian with Irish heritage.”

“No problem, Ronald. I assume you know what you’re doing. I’ll arrange everything and wait for them.”

“Thank you, Dave. You’ve been an enormous help.”

* * *

Deborah and Adam were headed toward Klagenfurt to get onto the autobahn when Deborah’s cell phone rang.

“Professor?”

“Deborah, I don’t have enough time to let you drive the van and all of the findings through half of Europe. I’ve asked my friend in Klagenfurt to take you, with his sons, to the American embassy in Vienna. There you’ll receive diplomatic passports that’ll let you take everything you have onto an airplane without going through security. I’ll wait for you at the airport in Dublin, and then we’ll drive directly to the embassy here.”

MacClary was speaking so fast that Deborah could hardly follow him. “Good, Ronald, but I think it might take about two or three hours to get to Vienna.”

“No problem. The embassy will be open for you at any time. I’ll wait here for you. As you can imagine, I’m really looking forward to seeing what you have.”

“I think you’re going to be amazed. But what about Ryan? How long does he have to wait where we left him?”

“Tell him he should make sure Thomas leaves the cave,” Adam said nervously. “I have a strange feeling. Maybe somebody saw us.”

MacClary obviously heard Adam because he said, “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

* * *

MacClary hung up the phone and walked around the conference table in his embassy office. Just then Jennifer called.

“Professor Reinisch called from the Archaeological Institute in Vienna,” she said.

MacClary let out a relieved sigh and sat down on one of the elegant chairs.

“He wanted to let you know that he would be at the site in less than three hours. I think you should tell Ryan so he’ll be looking for him at the right time. It’ll also help him endure the cold. It gets pretty bad there this time of year.”