The Secret of the Ancient Alchemist (24 page)

“
I
haven’t found any.”

“
You have
introduced Science into an understanding of God. I think that is
phenomenal.”

“
I
didn’t. The Gospel of Mary Magdalene did. By the way, did you ever
figure out who Theodore was?”

“
Theodore
was a disciple of Clement. I don’t know much else about him, and,
it seems, he didn’t receive his letter.”

“
Well, we
did,” Hart chuckled.

“
I do
hope you find the missing pages of the gospel and help us put an
end to all the secrets.”

“
I want
to thank you for your call. I’m not giving up hope of finding
them.”

“
I wish
you luck. Bye.”

“
Wait,
Father!”

“
Yes?”

“
Can you
tell me a little more of the miracles at Mar Saba?”

“
Apart
from healings, the monastery founders prayed a lot when it was
drought. Springs of water had appeared. Clement would have known of
these miracles. That’s why he went there.”

“
Thanks,
Father Thoplikos.” Hart had hung up.

In a sense, he
began to feel his mission coming home. He believed he would find
the missing pages. The truth was close.

“
Sure
you’re ok Tom?”

It was a quiet
Saturday morning at Lake Forest Condos in California. A cool breeze
blew in from the Pacific coast.

“
Yeah,
I’m good.”

“
You’re
sure?” Hart’s weight loss was obvious.

“
Don’t
fuss, Olsen.”

“
You
didn’t spend much time recuperating.”

“
I can’t
stay in bed and I don’t like being at home much. I’m good.” Sitting
on a sofa, Hart stretched for the coffee in front of him. Chopin’s
Nocturne played quietly in the background.

“
Man, you
gave me a scare and a half. I’m glad the worst is over for
you.”

“
I
survived to find the missing pages.”

“
You
really want those ancient secrets, don’t you?”

“
More
than anything. You told me on the phone you had something you
wanted me to see. What’s it?”

“
One
sec.” Olsen walked to a room and returned with a painting. He
placed it on an armchair. “This is The Dawning by French painter,
Francis La Croix. Look at the date etched on it.”

“
Where?”

“
Look in
the centre. Stand further back and you’ll see it better. La Croix
was tricky.”

“
My God,
you’re right. There’s a date marked on this.”

“
Do you
know what it means?”

“
Obviously, a new age. I can plainly see the line-up of
constellations in our galaxy.”

“
I always
believed prophecy is possible. La Croix was an artist. How could he
have known such planetary detail? Look at the new positions of
Jupiter’s moons. This is the earth’s new dawn.”

“
Where
did you get this painting?”

“
He gave
it to me in Copenhagen at the Summit of the Environment. I forgot I
had it.”

“
Marin
hasn’t seen any changes in his seismic data. Seems to me that
tremors are increasing in number and intensity worldwide. The date
for the new age really isn’t that far away, is it?”

“
No, it
isn’t, but, seismic reversal isn’t unknown and can happen at any
time.”

“
Well,
we’ll see.”

“
What’re
you going to do about the gospel pages?”

“
Wait a
bit. I need to find the French connection. Cathy Simpson, the
Washington Post’s Science Editor, called me. I gave her a good
description of the shooter and Tim Pearce, who’s a good friend of
Marin …”

“
Tim
Pearce?”

“
Yes.
He’s a computer expert. Pearce managed to hack G.W.D Foster’s
email.”

“
Foster?
Who’s Foster?”

“
Foster’s
a man in the US secret services and Pearce had a hunch he might be
connected to the Brotherhood organization. Foster’s been trying to
shut down abortion clinics and genetic labs for years.”

“
Coming
to think of it, he’s after Dr. Bentley’s lab SARDS, the South
American Research and Development Station.”

“
Bentley’s associate is John Steel, the geneticist. You
shouldn’t be surprised that Foster’s after him. But, guess
what?”

“
What?”

“
Pearce
found two names in Foster’s email.”

“
He
did?”

“
KD is a
nickname for the shooter and the other belongs to a Frenchman
called Michele LaPlotte.”

“
Really?
I suppose you gave Cathy the names.”

“
She’s
going to do sketches of the shooter and put them out. Hopefully,
we’ll catch KD, and then, get a lead to Michel LaPlotte. He’s going
to give me those missing pages. I know he has them. “Hart’s mood
seemed calm, as if he knew that time was near.

“
Don’t be
so sure.”

“
LaPlotte
doesn’t know we’re on his trail. He’s not going to destroy the
pages. Besides, Cathy’s cunning.”

“
Wouldn’t
he know at some point?”

“
He’s
more concerned with killing me than hiding those pages.”

“
What do
you know about LaPlotte?”

“
He’s the
curator of the Louvre and he has a Jesuit ancestry. LaPlotte is
sixty-three, accomplished in many ways apart from his knowledge of
art. I don’t really know how he ended with the pages. The German
dealer who purchased the gospel in Akhmim may have taken it to
France for a second opinion. The pages were probably torn and ended
up in LaPlotte’s hands eventually.” With a weak left knee, Hart
hopped to a window and looked out. He turned and raised his hand in
the air to make a point but, as if daunted by what was happening to
him, he let it drop to his side. “LaPlotte will be caught,” he said
calmly. “He’s probably so full of himself believing he’s
infallible. I’ll wait.”

“
Are you
hungry, Tom? I’ve got some pizza in the microwave.”

“
No, I’m
good.”

Olsen was
saddened to see Hart so quiet, so lacking his forthright self. He
had certainly gone shades paler and while the sharpness of his mind
lingered, he could see that Hart was a broken man. But, there was
nothing he could say. It was better to let it be. The trauma of his
past days seemed to weave in and out his consciousness.

“
Did you
get anything on the strange writings we found at Yale library,
Olsen?”

“
Yeah, I
got something.” Olsen pulled a note from his desk with the
words,
Zama
zama ōzza rachama ōzai.
“It’s alien writing. It means the mystery which is beyond
this world. Tablet writings Bentley found in Peru bear similar
etchings.”

“
How
authentic are these?”

“
Xenolinguistics isn’t unknown. In the sixteenth century,
John Dee and Edward Kelly claimed angels sent them a language.
Alien abductees have reproduced alien writing under
hypnosis.”

“
The
mystery that is beyond this world, you say?”

“
That’s
what the words mean. I believe it’s the reason for Magdalene’s
declaration:
How could such a thing be
, mentioned in the Gospel of Mary
Magdalene.”

“
Maybe.
We’d never know for sure. What about the Inca date?”

“
I want
to review the data before I say anything.”

“
I
suppose you want to be absolutely sure.”

“
Yeah, I
do. You know me.”

Hart glanced
at a clock on the wall. “I better get going. Cathy Simpson might
pay me a visit later this afternoon. I want to talk to her.”

Chapter 52

At home again,
he sat with a book trying to shut his mind off from all that
surrounded him. Hart was reading a book on ancient peoples and
cultures, wondering why gods were relegated to mythology. He didn’t
think they were mythological at all.

The Mayans had
a God of Thunder and thirteen creator gods. Quetzalcoatl, the Aztec
god, was flaunted as a feathered serpent but he had many forms,
including human ones. The Chinese deities, Nuwa and Fuxi, were
creator gods who fashioned Man from. The African god, Adroa, was a
sky god, a god on earth and a creator god. These gods were
considered links to a supreme God whose presence no one saw. Were
all the ancient peoples of the world filled with imagination? He
didn’t think so.

His
dinner of duckling in orange sauce was in his oven and an avocado
salad lay in the fridge but, he didn’t feel very hungry. He turned
to the sound of his doorbell. Opening it, he saw Cathy
Simpson,
Washington Post
’s Science Editor. He looked at her and smiled, noticing
little else, not even the man who was back in his hedge.

“
The
sketches of the shooter are done and out to every newspaper, Dr.
Hart.”

“
That’s
great news, Cathy. I hope we get an ID on him soon.”

“
We
should, and, I’m telling you, you’re going to get the missing pages
of the gospel.”

“
You seem
sure.”

“
Pretty
much.”

“
I’m
encouraged to say the least. Soon, we’ll know if other worlds
exist.”

Behind Hart’s
hedge, KD tore his disguise off and wiped sweat from his face. From
a duffel bag, he pulled an AK-47 rifle and looked through the gun’s
telescopic lens. In his view, he could see the image of Cathy who
was still at Hart’s front door. He wiped his hands dry on his denim
jeans and focused again.

His phone
beeped. It was Foster.

“
You
fool, you fool.” G. W. Foster shouted on the line. “You let Hart
see you, then you kill a woman and her dog.”

KD had his eyes
glued to his lens and his phone close to his ear. Time was running
out on him and he didn’t know what Foster wanted.

“
What is
your order? Tell me. Tell me quickly,” he managed to
say.

“
Hart
gave a description of you to every newspaper. You’re all over the
media and you’ve blown the cover of the Brotherhood, something
we’ve protected.”

Disappointment
came to KD as he watched Hart shut his front door.

“
We just
missed him. I had him in my sight. He’s at his house with a woman.
Look, nobody’s gonna trace anything to you.”

“
No? I’ve
got ten reporters outside my office asking me about Tom
Hart.”

“
He will
never get the missing pages of the gospel. I’m sure of it. He’ll
never prove we can see God, never!” KD cried out.

“
Be
quiet! You must finish this task, now. There’s no time to waste.
I’ve trained you to do our work. I’ve protected you. The one person
who could identify you is Hart. Kill him!”

The line died.
KD waited patiently for another chance at Hart.

Chapter 53

Hart didn’t
take much notice of women or anyone for that matter but Cathy
piqued his interest and it had little to do with finding the
secrets of the ancient world. He liked the peach suit she wore and
the tan shoes that matched it. She was stylish in a natural way. It
was in her gait and easy manner. She sat facing Hart.

“
Foster’s
already getting nervous, Dr. Hart. I managed to get a copy of his
telephone records. He made several calls to Foster.”

“
Got his
email records?”

“
I’m
trying to. I still think I should question Foster, don’t
you?”

“
No, stay
clear of him.”

“
It’s not
going to be that easy to get LaPlotte, you know that, don’t
you?”

“
What
d’you mean?”

“
Guys
like him have connections, don’t forget that. But, don’t let it put
you off. My contacts in Paris are good.” Cathy seemed suddenly
nervous.

“
Is
everything ok?” Hart enquired.

“
Look,
I…I could have said all of this on the phone but I want to know
you. I want to know who Tom Hart really is.” Her eyes dropped a bit
and a bead of sweat found its way to the tip of her nose. With a
Kleenex tissue, she dabbed it.

“
I’m an
illusion, Cathy.”

“
But, I
can see you.”

“
We are
mortals. Now you see me, now you don’t.”

“
So,
what’s the purpose of this life?”

“
To
improve our consciousness.”

She smiled.
Hart seemed to have all answers.

“
We’ve
been levelled with much uncertainty. That’s a common characteristic
of life. We don’t have control, do we?”

“
I
suppose not.”

“
What if
we had? What if we never had to worry about anything? Did you ever
wonder about that?”

“
I can’t
begin to imagine such a life.”

“
Your
deceased loved one could well be in a place that’s better than
ours. Scripture tells us that Mankind will find rest.”