The Messiah Code (34 page)

Ezekiel cut the flesh of the girl in front of him and watched dispassionately as she squeezed back tears. Maria hadn't even blinked at her blooding, just beamed at him with unrestrained pride as the blade sliced across her arm. He regretted their argument now. He'd known she would overreact when she heard about the deal with Carter. But he was surprised that Maria had ignored Brother Bernard's subsequent messages. That was unlike her.

Ezekiel reassured himself that despite her passionate views she was ultimately loyal to him and the Brotherhood. He felt sure she would contact him soon, and then he and Bernard would decide what to do with her.

Ezekiel turned his mind to Dr. Carter as he prepared the next initiate, a young man from Beirut. All the Inner Circle had been excited when the scientist had returned the samples and told them about the three rare genes. Now they just had to wait until he contacted them again with progress on finding the match. According to Helix, if it existed on any of the DNA databases they should know within weeks, perhaps even days. Ezekiel felt a surge of excitement so strong that he had to steady his hand as he cut into the young man's arm.

The rest of the bloodings took the best part of an hour. And throughout the ceremony he allowed himself to bask in the warm possibility, even probability, that they were close now--close to the realization of the prophecy and the fulfillment of all his obligations and responsibilities.

It wasn't until he delivered his concluding speech that he noticed Bernard gesturing from the back. He saw Helix beckoning him also and his excitement bubbled over. They must have news. He quickly finished the address and handed the proceedings over to Brother Haddad.

Next door, in one of the adjoining caves, he huddled in a quiet corner with the two senior Brothers.

"So, have we news from Carter?" he asked. "Has he found the Messiah?"

Bernard cast a worried look at Helix, then looked down at his shoes. "No, Father. Not exactly. The news relates more to Nemesis."

"Maria? You have found her? Where is she?"

"We didn't find her," said Bernard quietly. "The FBI did."

"What?" Ezekiel's warm glow left him.

Helix said, "According to our sources, it appears she tried to kill the scientist. But one of his colleagues stopped her. Maria is now under arrest."

"Under arrest?"

"She has been unmasked as the Preacher," continued Helix. "And because of the overwhelming evidence against her, she will go on fast-track trial within weeks, even days. If she's found guilty, which she undoubtedly will be, she'll be executed shortly after."

"The question is, what do we do about her?" said Bernard.

Helix paused. "Can she be trusted not to betray us? Or do we need to silence her?"

"Of course she won't betray us," retorted Bernard. "We trained her. Whatever her failings, betrayal isn't one of them."

"I agree," said Ezekiel.

An embarrassed cough from Helix. "With all due respect, Father, you were wrong about her defying you and going after the scientist."

Ezekiel De La Croix turned to his Champion of the First Imperative. "Brother Helix, you do not know Maria. She defied us because she believed in what she had to do. She is perhaps too zealous, even dogmatic. But the last thing she will do is betray us to the authorities. She will stay loyal to us and take her punishment."

Helix shrugged. "So we can forget about Maria? And concentrate on Dr. Carter?"

Ezekiel didn't like the way the two imperatives had now clashed. He felt personal regret about Maria, but more important the Brotherhood had lost their most effective operative. At least Carter hadn't been killed, because then both imperatives would have been compromised. He nodded at Helix. "Yes, we shall have to leave Maria to the U.S. justice system, and concentrate on Carter. But if he doesn't deliver us a match, then I will personally see to it that Gomorrah finishes him. And everyone else involved in this Project Cana."

Events finally seemed to be going his way. His wife's killer brought to justice. A match on the database. Just reading the file on Al Puyiana, the Indian who shared Christ's genes, had given him a boost. The dead man's DNA might be no more use than the original Nazareth genes, but at least the evidence suggested he could heal. All this added weight and reason to his wild goose chase. And on top of everything, Hank Polanski looked as if he was getting better.

"Well, Doc?" asked the young man, sitting upright in his bed. "How am I doing?"

Hank was a completely different person from the pallid, sunken-eyed patient who had started his gene therapy treatment only a few months ago. Nurse Lawrence stood beside him checking the intravenous drip going into his arm. The drip was coming from a bag of red liquid suspended from a stand next to the bed.

"Looking good, Hank," said Tom eventually.

"Yeah, I feel a heap better."

Tom smiled as he read the file. Things
were
going well. He pulled out an X ray and showed it to Hank. "The primary tumors in your lungs have stopped growing and are even beginning to reduce. Your three secondaries have all died."

"So the fifteen percent long shot paid off?"

"So far, Hank. But we've still got to monitor you closely. You won't get the all-clear for years. But things are definitely improving."

Hank laughed. "No kidding. I'm still alive, aren't I? I'd call that a definite improvement."

Tom smiled, but said no more. Hank was no longer at death's door, but he wasn't out of the waiting room yet. Even though the odds had shifted significantly in favor of the young man's survival. Tom said good-bye to Hank and walked back down the ward. As he checked on the other patients he thought of Project Cana and allowed himself a rare, giddying fantasy. If they could get the genes to work, then perhaps they could save every Hank Polanski and Holly in the world. He turned to the other beds and imag

ined all their occupants well again. He pictured this ward closing down, simply because there were no more patients.

If only Jasmine could identify the name behind the match she had found in the Black Hole. He wished that the match from the Paris database carried an identifying name or title, not just the coded index number: #6699784. He also wished Jasmine had been able to copy the whole genome, and not just the sequence matching the Nazareth genes. They could then have used the Gene Genie to establish the individual's appearance.

Still, at least he knew a living match existed, and on what database. It should now only be a matter of time before Jasmine wheedled her way back into the Black Hole, and found the name behind the coded number. The name of the Brotherhood's and Holly's savior.

"Tom?"

He turned to see Alex walking toward him. Suddenly he wasn't in such a good mood anymore. Before his father said another word Tom knew his news. Alex had taken Holly for her brain scans at Massachusetts General today. And it was plain from his drawn look that the scans had been positive. Even though Tom had known DAN's prophecy would come true, its accuracy still shocked him now that it had become a physical reality.

T
hat night Holly read the newspaper reports of the Preacher's capture, telling Tom how
awesome
it was that her dad and godmother were heroes. It was then, almost in passing, that she mentioned her headaches and dizziness for the first time. She told him how although she'd stopped playing with her computer, they still wouldn't go away. He listened to her, saying nothing, then gave her two painkillers.

Earlier, Tom had examined the shadow on his daughter's brain scans. The scans had told him that Holly's cancer had not only started but was accelerating at an alarming rate. It had become even more imperative that Jasmine identify the match she'd found. But whatever happened on Cana, and
whenever
it happened, Holly couldn't wait for it. It was

important now that she be told what was wrong with her, and what was required to help her. He'd informed patients of serious illness countless times before--he hoped with compassion and humanity. But telling his own precious child was different and once again he wished that Olivia were here to guide him.

After breakfast the next day he walked with his daughter in the garden. It was a clear spring morning in mid-April, with dew still on the lawn. The bulbs Olivia had planted last autumn were in full flower--a riot of reds and yellows. There was a freshness to the air that spoke of life and rejuvenation.

The gardener was tending the rosebushes at the far end of the lawn. He looked up from his work and smiled from under his faded Boston Red Sox baseball cap.

"Morning."

"Morning, Ted," said Holly and Tom in unison.

Long since retired, Ted had helped Olivia out in the garden once a week for almost seven years. But after Olivia's death he had come around most days to carry out the seeding plans they had discussed together. Tom often tried to pay him for his time but Ted always refused. Taking off his cap and scratching his short grizzled hair, he'd give a sad smile and say: "Thanks all the same, Dr. Carter, but I ain't got much else to do at my age. And anyway, this is my way of keeping close to Olivia. You understand?"

Tom did understand. But he also knew that the widower was not averse to Marcy Kelley's company either.

Tom held Holly's hand as she walked with him to the other end of the garden, the bottoms of her over-baggy jeans damp from the dew-laden grass.

"Do you know why you get your headaches, Hol?" Tom asked.

She kicked the wet lawn with her Day-Glo trainers. "Isn't it the computer?"

"No, Holly, it's not."

She looked up at him, her forehead creased in thought. It was an expression he'd seen before. "What is it, then?"

Tom stopped walking and crouched down beside her on the grass. Holly's hazel eyes were watching him very closely now.

He smiled at her. "First of all, Holly, don't be frightened. We are going to stop the headaches, and you're going to be okay. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Dad," she replied in a quiet voice. Her wide eyes looked at him with such complete trust that it squeezed his heart.

"Do you remember the checkup you had with Grampa yesterday?"

"Uh-huh."

"You know that it's a scan that checks if everything's okay in our heads. Well, on the last scan you were fine as usual. Except for a tiny bump."

Holly's forehead creased in incomprehension. "Bump?"

"Yeah. Do you remember that time when I knocked my head on the larder door at Grampa's and I got that big lump on my head."

Small smile. "And Mom called you cone-head?"

Tom gave a mock frown. "You
all
called me cone-head."

The smile broadened. "No, Grampa called you rhino skull."

"Anyway, your bump's special because it's on the inside. My bump hurt because it was like a big bruise. But yours hurts because it puts pressure on your brain. This gives you headaches at times, and makes you feel sick and dizzy."

Holly frowned, but nodded slowly. "How did I get it?"

"Well, with my bump it was my fault, because I banged my head into the top of the doorway. But your bump isn't your fault at all. You've been very unlucky. Something has gone wrong with some of the cells inside your head that makes them form a bump."

"Why?"

"Imagine all the cells in your body are like school kids that have to behave in order to keep the body healthy. Occasionally, for no real reason, some of these kids disobey their teacher or parent. When this happens they disrupt all the other kids and cause a disturbance in our body..."

"And we get sick?"

"Right."

"When will the bump go away?"

"Well, Holly, it won't go away by itself. And because it's inside it's difficult to get rid of. But don't worry, we will get rid of it. First of all, we're going to give you medicines to reduce the swelling and limit the effect these bad kids are having. And then we might have to take the bump out."

"Like sending the bad kids out of school?"

"Exactly. But you're going to have to be brave. The treatment isn't easy. And you'll have to stay in the hospital for a while."

Holly cocked her head to one side. It was exactly the same mannerism Olivia used to adopt whenever she was thinking hard about something. "Are
you
going to give me all the treatment?" she asked.

"If you like. Others will help, but I'll be your doctor."

"And I can stay in the special hospital at your work?"

"Of course."

She seemed to weigh up this information before giving a satisfied nod. Not only did she seem unafraid, she was even a little excited. She'd always visited him at work. And had often gone into the ward to meet the patients. Now in a perverse way she seemed to look forward to
being
one of those special patients she'd seen him devote so much time to. This absolute trust made telling her easier, but at the same time the very real possibility of betraying that trust terrified him.

"It's not going to be easy," he said again. Usually he had to urge patients to be positive after giving them the bad news, but in Holly's case he felt the need to temper her optimism.

She asked, "Can Jennifer and Megan visit?"

"Sure."

"And I can still use the computer?"

"Of course you can. As long as you feel up to it. We'll make sure you're fully connected with the best computer stuff Jazz can get hold of."