The Secret of the Ancient Alchemist (15 page)

“
You…you
are impossible, Hart!”

A couple
minutes later, Riley banged the phone down. He grabbed a pill from
a bottle of Excedrin and, with a wash of coffee, drowned the words
he heard from Hart as Hart had ended the call.

Some things
are beyond human endeavour. A new age is coming. Be calm.

He shook his
head. Hart can’t be right, he can’t be, he thought. He was really
very tired of arguing with the young mathematician about Plan B,
something that cost taxpayers billions and a plan Hart thought was
foolish. He was even more irritated by Hart’s pronouncements of
realms but not too many in the field of Science, including himself,
would challenge Hart.

At twenty-five,
he knew just about everything there was to know about natural
dynamics.

But, he thought
again, as he swung his weight in his chair. What if Hart was right
about a new age?

Chapter 35

“
We want
answers now!” a woman shouted out on the pavement.

Hart stood a
few feet away from the turmoil that was erupting on Greenwich
Street. A crowd was pushing its way through the Center for Disaster
Preparedness. People were panicking over the tsunami warning
looming in the city’s air.

“
Go home,
stay indoors and be calm. That’s all we have to say at the moment,
folks and thanks for coming,” Hart heard as he moved closer to the
front door. The CDP officer who spoke stared passively ahead,
ignoring the grunts and foul words of a very tense
crowd.

“
Tell us
more!” Barry Dean, a resident, demanded.

“
Calm
down,” his associate, Gary Anderson, pleaded.

“
All of
my travel bookings have been cancelled this summer because of these
tremors. He tells us there’s nothing to worry about. Doesn’t anyone
have answers? Earthquakes are swallowing up whole cities in China.
The world is facing collapse! People are scared.”

Barry started
moving towards the podium.

“
Hey,
what ar’you doing?” Gary cried out now. “Barry, stop!”

He watched in
horror as Dean grabbed hold of a CDP officer. The buttons of the
man’s shirt fell to the ground. The sound of pockets ripping was
heard as the Hispanic went flying cross the floor. People scattered
for cover. Some ran out. Microphones and speakers tumbled
everywhere.

The CDP officer
scrambled to his feet and dialled a number. It was the New York
Police Department.

“
Look,
just get here!” he shouted on the line. He sank in a chair in
desperation and watched as eyes turned Hart’s way.

“
Isn’t
that the guy who’s always on TV, Gary?” Barry pointed.

“
That’s
him. What’s his name again? Hart, that’s Tom Hart.”

“
He talks
‘bout a date for a new age.”

“
You’re
right.”

“
Hey,
everybody, this way!”

In a rush,
people dashed to Hart.

Meanwhile,
The Washington Herald’s
Science Editor, Cathy Simpson, took it in from a safe
distance at a corner of the room.

“
That’s
him!” She exclaimed.

“
Him?
What’s so special about him?” Another reported inquired.

“
Hart has
broken space-time barriers.”

“
What
d’you mean?”

“
He found
a dimension. He’s the only one who can tell us where we’re
headed.”

Cathy’s eyes
moistened with joy. She folded her arms across her chest and stared
at the man she admired most. Hart’s arms were tucked behind his
tall imposing figure as he looked at the approaching crowd. He had
that air of detachment that told her he was on a mission. His
expression was assertive, compelling, a brilliant man ahead of his
time. She watched Hart grab hold of a microphone that spilled his
way as the crowds surged toward him.

“
My
friends,” Hart spoke like a superstar preacher, “Be calm. I
guarantee that all will be well. Please, believe me. No more
tremors, no more wars and disasters. The time ahead is fast
approaching when mankind will be free.” His words bounced off the
walls of the solar-panel building.

“
Tell us
the date!” they demanded.

Hart stared at
the expectant faces. The surly man at the front was uneasy, he
thought. His eyes connected with his trying to calm him.

“
My man,
don’t be afraid.”

“
Give us
the damned date!” Dean retorted in anger.

Before Hart
could say another word, Dean reached out and grabbed Hart’s coat.
In the melee, Hart’s pocket watch fell to the ground and smashed to
pieces. As he struggled with the crazed man, NYPD’s sirens pealed
in the air. Hart felt the relief of his life as the man let go of
him and disappeared into New York’s streets.

“
Dr.
Hart? Wait! What’s this date?” Cathy called as she ran towards
him.

Hart didn’t
hear her call as he made a dash for the NSA. Back in his office, he
picked up the sheet of paper with the five odd words, staring at
them again. The words baffled him. Were they connected to
Magdalene’s vision mentioned in the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, he
wondered again. Who could say what the words meant? Still, that
didn’t preoccupy him as much as the missing pages of the gospel
itself.

He rocked back
in his chair with a pain in his heart. He had come so close to the
truth of life but had merely tasted the fruit of human freedom.
With his arms clasped behind his head, he pondered his move in a
world of very few options. To think that so much was hidden for so
long was unbearable to him.

“
I want
those pages,” he banged his fist on his desk. “Where’re they?
Something must exist, surely.”

His eyes
shifted from the carpeted floor to the piles of reports lying all
over his desk as he thought of the roads he would have to take on
his path to fulfilment. Frustrated, he slid his fingers through his
hair, obsessing about the six missing pages of the Gospel of Mary
Magdalene that deal with matter. Science was moving in the right
direction but it would be many years before people got confirmation
of the existence of other worlds, other realms.

He wanted
answers now.

Chapter 36

St. Catherine,
Egypt.

The monastery
of St. Catherine stood at the foot of Mt. Sinai where Moses
received the Ten Commandments. It was surrounded by a stone wall,
inside of which stood many buildings rebuilt from their original
constructions. Among those buildings was an acclaimed library of
ancient texts.

Sweating from
the heat of the day, Hart made his way to the Visitors Centre.
There he was met by Father Stavros Anatoli. Anatoli was a tall,
bespectacled man with a greying beard. The black robe he wore with
a hood that covered his head made him appear mysterious. A silver
chain bearing a cross rested on his collar. He was about
fifty-eight, Hart reckoned.

“
Hello,
Mr. Hart,” Anatoli said in heavy tone. “It’s a pleasure to meet
you. You’ve come a long way. I hope you didn’t find your journey
too tiring.”

It was long
Hart thought but he didn’t want to say that. “I’m grateful for your
time, Father.”

“
The
Gospel of Mary Magdalene fascinates you, no doubt, Mr.
Hart.”

“
It
does.”

“
So, how
can I be of use to you?” Anatoli led him to an adjoining
sofa.

“
I’m
interested in verifying its translation. You told me already that
you don’t have a complete copy.”

“
I’m
sorry to have disappointed you. I know you really want those
missing pages.”

“
Yes, I
do.”

“
The
gospel was written in Greek and translated by the early Coptic
Christians. Written Coptic began in the first century and it
adapted Greek letters in addition to six from ancient Egypt. There
were two main dialects, Sahadic and Bohairic.”

“
Would
the early Christians have missed anything in the translation from
Greek?”

“
Hardly
likely, Mr. Hart. The early Christians had a sound grasp of Greek.
One second, please.” Anatoli opened the text he held in his hand.
“This is a translation of the Sahidic
Papyrus Berolinensis
as the gospel is also known by
the scholar Karen King, from her book by Polebridge Press. The
brackets in the text indicate gaps in the original papyrus that
were filled in. As you see here,” he pointed, “[Ma]tter gav[e
bi]rth to a passion that has no image because it is derived from
what is contrary to nature.”

“
Image?”
Hart repeated. He recalled Leidman’s script said that matter gave
birth to a passion that has no equal. He argued the point with
Father Anatoli who responded.

“
There
are several Coptic alphabets and translations may differ
slightly.”

“
A
passion that has no image would be unseen.”

“
It would
be.”

“
The
dimensional world is certainly unseen. It makes perfect sense.”
Hart smiled broadly, feeling encouraged by the translation and at
ease in Anatoli’s company. He listed intently as the cleric
continued.

“
Mr.
Hart, the teachings you claim this gospel gives would have been
impossible to understand in ancient times. You must admit, even
today it is. I must tell you the apostles complained of strange
teachings as they did of Magdalene’s hierarchy.”

“
It’s not
strange. Science has shown that a realm is possible.”

“
Science
is a hard subject, not quite suitable for the broad masses, don’t
you think?”

“
But, we
can’t ignore it. Natural forces impact on us and whoever compiled
this gospel must’ve understood it. The broad masses need to as
well. We can’t escape it. There’s no simple explanation for who we
are.”

Anatoli smiled.
The cleric’s eyes didn’t miss the zeal in Hart’s voice or the
excitement in his face. His motivation was truly unparalleled, he
thought.

“
Your
journey has been long, Mr. Hart. Would you care for some
tea?”

“
Thank
you, Father. Yes, I would.”

Father Anatoli
disappeared through a curtained door. Hart could hear the rattle of
cups and spoons. Staring out, he saw a landscape that was stark and
stony under a clear, blue sky. Yet, there was life in the barren
land, like the Nubian Ibex, lizards and sparse grass. The monk
returned with two cups of tea and sat.

“
What do
you think was said in those missing pages? I am intrigued by your
interpretation of this gospel. So, please tell me.”

“
It’s
clear to me that the intention of this gospel was to inform of
things unseen, the metaphysical elements of life. The pages would
have said that the human mind doesn’t die but is guided by super
consciousness.”

“
And, you
claim that it comes from within us, no?”

“
Yes.
What you call Holy Spirit is, to me, supernatural intelligence,
intelligence that exists in an inner realm of light. And,…” Hart
stopped. Anatoli seemed edgy and unsure.

“
Mr.
Hart, there is a little matter that discredits your theory. You
cannot prove that the human mind lives on. No one can, can they? If
you don’t mind me saying so, I find you speak with surety about
things unproven.”

“
Consciousness cannot die, Father.”

“
There
you go again.”

Hart flashed a
smile that eased the hard lines of his face. He even laughed a bit.
“I’m still sure of all I say.”

“
If you
wish to say the soul does not die, maybe we can agree on
that.”

“
The soul
does not die.”

“
Well
then, what else would the pages have said?”

“
The
pages would’ve said something of where we go after death, of other
worlds. It’s all about secrets it seems.”

“
In my
opinion, Mr. Hart, based on what’s in the text, the Gospel of Mary
Magdalene seems to focus mainly on a realm. It claims that the
disciples were ordered to go forth and preach the good news of the
realm and that they should be contented with another image of
nature. Yet, they wept even as Magdalene said she would teach them
all that was hidden from them.”