The Celtic Conspiracy (36 page)

Despite a huge storm, the plane landed with only a little bobble on the runway. In the distance, he could see cars with blue lights, his escort presumably, which didn’t make him at all happy.

“Thank you, Mr. Ellis,” Ryan said when the plane came to a stop. “I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.”

“It’s OK, Mr. Ryan,” the elderly physician said as he opened the door to the cabin. “Brian’s friends are my friends. I hope that you are successful. It’s about time.”

The first thing that Ryan saw as he deplaned was a cloud of red hair, and then Deborah was hugging him so tightly he could barely breathe.

“Thank you for bringing this crazy man back to me,” she said to Ellis before kissing Ryan’s cheek.

Ryan warmed at her greeting. “I was really afraid that I wouldn’t see you all again.”

They locked eyes for a moment and said nothing. Then Ryan noticed Adam and Jennifer and sent them an elaborate wave.

“You’re going to have to tell us how it feels to be resurrected,” Adam called up to him with a grin.

“Well, it’s not as uncommon as you might think. The people in the time of the pharaohs already knew the resurrection story, and now I’m just one of the many mystical figures who were used to keep people from worshipping the sun.”

Deborah laughed, but Ryan could tell that Jennifer was having a tough time showing any humor. “What’s going on?” he said when he came up to her.

Jennifer handed him a piece of paper. “The wire copy came a couple of hours ago. The Irish government has recognized your claims and those of the other families...”

“...despite massive protests by the Catholic Church,” Ryan said, reading from the text. “Hey, but that’s good news!”

“There is enough of the bad kind to go around. We’ll explain everything during the drive.”

They got into a car, and the convoy started to make its way to the hotel. Ryan was still feeling weak and just wanted to sleep. Before they’d even left the airstrip, he was asleep on Deborah’s shoulder.

“What time is it?” Ryan asked when he awoke the next morning. “What about the court session? Have I missed something?”

“Don’t worry. You’re staying here today,” Jennifer said, surprisingly brightly after she was so somber the day before. “Ronald decided that you shouldn’t come to court before noon tomorrow, so you can take it easy today. But I have something for you here. Actually for everyone.”

Ryan walked deeper into the main room.

Jennifer chuckled. “A number of church dignitaries have announced that they’ll be there tomorrow, and I started to wonder how the Druids might have dressed.”

She went into the next room for a minute and came back pulling Adam behind her. He was dressed—apparently not completely willingly—in a flowing robe. It looked like the robes that the Druids supposedly wore to protect them from the elements, but it was made out of an elegant fabric and cut in a more contemporary style.
Under the light gray cowl and robe, Adam was wearing black, loose clothing.

Ryan didn’t know if he should laugh or be irritated by the whole thing. And how could Jennifer be in such a good mood when they had tomorrow’s session hanging over their heads, when people were going to try to destroy their case using falsified documents and cover-ups?

“Jennifer, please, you can’t be serious!” he said. “Do you want us to look like Jedi knights?”

Jennifer seemed surprised by his protest. “Isn’t this robe a suitable expression of your culture and position? It will set you off very well against these priests with their red robes and funny hats. Besides, where do you think George Lucas got the idea of the Jedi knights anyhow?”

“Um, I think we need to give this a little more thought, Jennifer,” Adam said. Then he suddenly burst out laughing. For a moment, all the tension in the room seemed to fall away.

Deborah had been watching all of this. Now she went to the door of the suite and said to Ryan, “I have something to show you that I think you’ll like quite a bit more.”

As she opened the door, Ryan yelled out, “No! I don’t believe it! My God, it’s great to see you here. O’Brian, Jane, Uncle Patrick, and little Paggy. Sarah, Ian, and John Lord...my God, are there more of you out there?”

He threw himself into the embrace of the assemblage.

“The others are in town,” O’Brian said. “You’ll see them all at court. Let me look at you. They really did a number on you, from what I’ve heard.”

“Yes, you could say that. And it was quite an odyssey getting here too. But I’m here, and I’m sure there are those who won’t be very happy about it.”

O’Brian shook his head in admiration. “I can still remember you as a child, how anxious you were to learn everything about our culture and about the secret of the Druids. Back then, we had nothing more than a couple of dubious legends to offer you, but now you’re the one who’s revealing more and more. I just want to thank you. I wish your father had been able to be here to experience this.”

“Maybe he’s known for a long time. You know, Uncle O’Brian, everything is relative with time and space, and death is only a transition. I can sense Father every day. He’s always with me.”

“That’s enough now,” Jennifer said brightly. “There’ll be time for your metaphysical ramblings later. Right now Sarah wants to show you something.”

Sarah was the youngest in the O’Brian clan and had been studying the myths and legends of the Christianized Druids in Dublin for years. “Ryan, as you know, the caste system of the Brahmans was a model for the Druids, but with a subtle distinction: anyone could become a Druid, regardless of family background, if he was suited for it.”

“Yes, my clever little cousin, I know. A person is a Druid by calling as well as through a very particular education. But where are you headed with this?”

“We would like both you and Deborah to head up the study of the scrolls in the future. Here.”

Sarah held up the model of a public space with trees that had just been set up near the Irish city of Cork. A building was being designed just behind it, in which all the artifacts of the Celts and Druids were to find a new home.

“Sarah, did you remember to bring the swords with you?” Ryan joked.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you see, the head Druid was actually voted in by the other Druids. But when there was no clear decision, they sometimes fought it out at the point of sword.” As he said this, Ryan pretended to lunge at Deborah.

But Deborah just stared at the model in excitement and ran both of her hands through her mane of red hair. “I’m...I’m speechless. This is incredible! Where is the money coming from?”

“There are a few rich Irish people who have always hoped that the relics of our culture would be brought together in a central location,” Sarah responded. “They are financing this project with some help from the Irish government.”

“People, I can understand your excitement,” Shane interjected. “This is fantastic and everything, but I keep thinking about the others. I wish that the other indigenous peoples of the world would have a similar opportunity.”

“Adam, I’ve got something for you here that I’ve been wanting to show you for a long time,” Jennifer said with a serene look.

She reached for her bag and pulled out an old newspaper clipping. It was an article about Bolivia, specifically about the inauguration of the first Native American president of a South American nation since its colonization by Spanish conquerors. Shane read the president’s speech and was deeply moved.

“Today a new age begins for the original inhabitants here, a new life, where we can strive for equality and justice, a new era, a new millennium for all peoples...”

“So what about a Druid as president of Ireland?” Shane asked, half joking, as he passed the article on to the others.

“Why not?” O’Brian responded. “One day that too will be possible.”

Shane sat down and looked around at everyone again. They were right. When he thought about what had happened in the past couple of weeks, anything was possible. And then there were all of those small groups throughout the world that had broken off from the Church, not wanting to live any longer with the old dogma and working toward a monumental change in their own consciousness. All of it was important in the grand scheme of things and on a smaller level as well.

He looked at Ryan’s laughing face as he held Paggy in his arms, flourishing in the company of his family.

* * *

Lighthouses are more useful than churches.

—Benjamin Franklin

Cardinal Lambert had made himself comfortable in his hotel room. He had just finished discussing everything with the lawyers for what he presumed would be the last hearing. Salvoni had already lain down and was tossing and turning in his bed.

In spite of his coup with the authorization for the excavation, Lambert was still plagued with doubts. Too much had already come into play. After Catamo had told him about the pope’s unexpected audience with one of these godless pagans, he had to ask himself what was going through the Holy Father’s head. Who knew what the pontiff was planning next?

He slowly and deliberately dialed a number on his cell phone.

“This is Cardinal Lambert, Camerlengo. What do you know about the conversation that the Holy Father had with Adam Shane?”

“Only a little. But it was very loud. In any case, it was over faster than expected, and both of them left feeling rather disappointed, at least as far as an outside observer could tell. But to be honest, Cardinal, I’m more concerned about the automatic resignation with which the Holy Father entrusted Catamo.”

The Argentinean cardinal Rodrigez Perona had been elevated to the trusted position of camerlengo at the age of sixty-eight, directly after the election of John Paul III, a fact that Lambert had never been able to get over. It was the first time that a Latin American cardinal had moved up into the innermost power center of the Church. Lambert would never have let anyone know, especially since he didn’t want to lose his most important source of information, but this competition irritated him enormously. In his position as camerlengo, Perona would take over the leadership of the Vatican for a short period upon the death of the Holy Father. He would take care of the pope’s funeral and organize the election of a new pontiff. It was no wonder that a man with these powers would also be an important personal advisor during his life as well.

“Excuse me?”

“The Holy Father gave Catamo a document with his automatic resignation,” Perona said. “It’s only precautionary, in case the United Nations should revoke the status of the Holy See.”

“I don’t understand. We’ve done everything to ensure that no one can hold him personally responsible,” Lambert said, trying to reassure Perona.

“That may be, but in the investigations about the—”

“Yes, of course! I forgot about that,” Lambert said in consternation. After the loss of immunity, the pope, as head of state, would have to subject himself to investigation about the cover-ups of the abuse cases. For months,
several influential lawyers had been trying to obtain an arrest warrant for him, either to charge him in a national court or in front of the ICC in The Hague. At the very least, he would be questioned as a witness in one of the many lawsuits where damages were being sought.

“But that’s not all, Cardinal. He also gave Catamo something else, and Catamo is remaining insistently tightlipped about it,” Perona said, only adding to Lambert’s uneasiness.

“Very well, Camerlengo. You know that I have always considered you a possible successor to the chair of St. Peter. We have to be ready, if necessary, to call a new conclave within hours. Make it clear to Catamo what his position is and find out what he knows. And I would ask you to keep a close eye on the Holy Father. Above all, be his ears. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Cardinal, I know what I need to do.”

“Make sure to contact Cardinal Contasiera and Cardinal Huber privately. Both of them will help you if there is an emergency.”

“Very good. May the Lord be with us and the hand of God protect us.”

“Yes, may the hand of God protect us. And another thing, Camerlengo, give me hourly updates about what is going on in New York at the United Nations. I’ll be returning tomorrow immediately after the hearing.”

Lambert’s suspicions had proven correct. This pope had become unpredictable. From this point on, anything could happen in the eternal city, and he would be hard-pressed to stop it.

* * *

The history of the early European peoples and the history of the Church would have to be rewritten. That was the subject of many newspaper headlines the day before the next hearing. The first press conference by American historians had awakened international interest in the trove. However, the headlines told only part of the story. Other scientists felt that the scrolls only confirmed what anticlerical historians had been writing about for a long time, although the general public was only now taking them seriously.