The Secret of the Ancient Alchemist (31 page)

Olsen had
dialled the nearest police station.

“
What can
I do for you?” a polite voice had answered.

As he was about
to speak, he remembered he had been black listed as an
environmental agitator. He had hung up.

Now, he dialled
Bentley’s number. “Come on, answer,” he said as Bentley’s phone
kept ringing.

With the call
unanswered, Olsen headed upstairs. He zipped his bags and checked
his documents for his trip to La Joya Island. He pushed the bags
aside and sat on his bed. The tyranny he had experienced from the
Copenhagen police for his disturbance of the Summit of the
Environment Conference forced him to distrust life. He never took
anything lightly and, since then, the feeling of being followed had
never washed off. He thought of how hard he had worked on the
movement of planets and how much the fraternity at home hated him
and that all he stood for, especially his determination to capture
the Inca date for a new age. It was because of them he had fled to
America. Olsen had to escape the disappointment that stabbed him
everywhere he turned. Now, as he lay still, the lonesome chill of
the night he had spent in jail came back to haunt him.

“
Why is
this world so cruel?” he pleaded to the air in the room.

He glanced at
the clock on the wall, then at Myrtle who was still fast asleep. He
looked at her wondering if he was doing right by her. Myrtle was
the most innocent person he had ever met.

Feeling blue,
he grabbed his keys, deciding to go out. As he opened the door of
his car, he caught sight of a shadow slipping past him. Olsen made
a dash to see who it was. It wasn’t long before he gave up chase.
As sweat poured from his face, he knew his stalker was back. He
started his car and drove off thinking of who he could be. He
didn’t get beyond Sunset Boulevard when his cell phone rang.

“
Hello?”
he answered.

“
Julius,
you called me?”

“
Yeah. I’m being followed, Dr. Bentley,” he said on the
line.

Chapter 69

In Paris,
archaeologist Arthur Bentley placed his phone away. He walked along
Rue Mollis reconciling Olsen’s call. He was half expecting it since
his laboratory in Colombia came under scrutiny from US forces.
Still, hearing Olsen’s frantic voice was hard on him. Finding the
date for the new age somehow seemed remote. He never imagined he
would have to be bothered about Valera’s claims of Andean
Christianity, claims he had published in
The Journal of Archaeology
and which had been previously
mentioned in a document,
The Naples Documen
t. Now, the Brotherhood was after Olsen. He
worried a lot about Hart too. It was important that people knew
there was a network between them and worlds beyond. His eyes scaled
the ambiance of the European city as he wondered if they would both
survive. It had been a long journey for them and he wanted nothing
more than a bright end. As rain drenched his jacket, he turned his
thoughts to his own matters. He had long known the Age of Aquarius
would come. The age would bring forth esoteric traditions and
expose the teachings that were intended for Mankind. People would
understand who they were and their purpose. The age would bring an
end to disasters. He wanted both Hart and Olsen to attend the
conference but it wasn’t to be. Now, he was left alone to convince
a doubtful crowd of the age. It was not going to be an easy task.
He had found a lot of speculation of a new age. In his research, he
encountered five hundred claims of it. Many were made by
pseudo-astrologists and some by holy men. What led him to believe
the Inca were right was what that the Q’ero people had said, that
the eagle of the north will one day fly with the condor of the
south. It was a sign of peace, an Inca prophecy written in the
stars.

The Inca were
masters at mapping stars. They were so accurate he was certain of
extra-terrestrial influence. Machu Picchu was an observatory with
the pyramid, Intihuatana, positioned to measure the movement of the
sun. It was from Machu Picchu that the Inca high priests observed
planets. Their astronomical logs were advanced, more than those of
sixteen century Europeans, a great feat for a people with obscure
counting skills.

Remembering Olsen’s words on the phone, his feet dragged
along the pavement like a wounded soldier, lost and broken. Still,
he was yards from the Paris
State of the Earth Conference
and he had to turn his
attention to what he would say about the new age.

Chapter 70

In the historic
La Maison building, the conference was heating up when he arrived
two minutes later. The French president was addressing the
assembly.

“
We can
stop wars,” President Jollet said. “But, ladies and gentlemen, we
cannot stop Mother Nature. Where will answers come from if not from
this esteemed gathering? It is you who will change this
world.”

The
assembly of world leaders, scientific advisors and numerous
organizations ignited with fervour. Jollet’s inspiring words
heralded a spate of clapping. Many were now off their seats. The
president’s voice soon boomed again through the large room as he
said, “The leaders of the world need your help but, more than that,
we want answers. We cannot fight the war of natural forces acting
against us alone. Together we will work to make this planet a safe
and beautiful home. Thank you ladies and gentleman. I declare
the
State of
the Earth Conference
open.”

Jollet shook
hands with delegates who hugged him. The mood at the conference was
upbeat. Cameras were clicking, microphones squealed and people
hurried about with their agendas. The scent of French pastry and
roasted coffee charged through the morning air.

As the
president took his seat among other world leaders, the first
presenter, bedecked in the flaming red and yellow colours of her
native China, began walking centre stage.

“
My
topic,” she said lowering the microphone “is about China’s role in
global warming. I’m here to tell you how much we’ve
achieved.”

The young woman
spoke of pollution reduction and limitations in the use of coal.
Five minutes later, she ended her presentation to a round of
applause.

“
Thank
you. Thank you again,” she said pleased with her speech and
delighted with the response from the crowd.

As she turned
to leave, the assembly coordinator’s ear caught a sound. It came
from someone banging a table.

“
Your
presentation is the usual nonsense!” he heard. The outburst came
from a man at the centre of the room.

The assembly
coordinator headed to the microphone. “Order, order, please!” His
plea did nothing to stop the man from getting to his feet.

“
Your
work’s garble,” the man said, pointing this time to the Chinese
delegate. “You haven’t told us anything. Just a heap of promises
and promises.” The man banged his fist again. “We need answers
now!”

“
How dare
you?” The woman cried. With glaring eyes, she flung her paperwork
at him. Behind her, there was more commotion.

Three
oceanographers shot to their feet.

“
Our
measurements of rising levels in the Arctic are accurate,” one said
responding to a rude comment from a member of
The Geological Society of
America
.

“
They’re
not!” the group of four men rose. “You’re talking about Isostatic
Rebound. Melting glaciers aren’t the cause of earthquakes. It’s a
problem with the alignment of our planets, something we can’t
fix.”

“
You’re
nuts!”

The conference
was fast becoming a spectacle as more joined in. Scientists raised
their hands at each other.

In a grand
finale, recommendations and dossiers flew everywhere. Soon, they
grabbed their bags and walked out.

The assembly
coordinator panicked. “Hey, come back. Come back! How the hell will
we advise world leaders?”

In the middle
of it all, Frederic Strauss, the Austrian representative, was
reasoning with a stubborn American in reference to a paper on
carbon emissions.

“
Your
data is invalid. We can’t remove the limit on fossil fuels based on
what you’ve written. In fact, we can’t make decisions about
anything!” Strauss slammed his papers down.

The mood
at the Paris
State of the Earth Conference
was sour when Peter Langley came forward. He was
Olsen’s friend and the man rechecking his Quipu data. He didn’t
want to say anything about the date preferring to leave that for
Bentley. He had strained his neck looking for him but hadn’t seen
him.

“
We’re in
deep trouble,” he said, “And, we won’t solve anything like this.”
Langley started towards the exit.

“
Wait,
Peter!” Strauss called.

Langley turned
and looked at the man. “Tell me.”

“
The
truth, the truth is…” Strauss glanced at the faces of the delegates
milling around. The live-wire of innovative technology looked pale.
His drawn features cast a shadow against the gothic pillars of La
Maison.

“
Say what
you have to, Frederic,” Langley urged.

“
We’re shutting oil refineries, shifting to solar power and
bio-fuel production and God knows what else. Still, sea level rise
continues, earthquakes the order of the day. What can I say? Be
philosophical about it all? The truth is there’s nothing we can do,
nothing at all to stop the Falklands from going under or the
continents from drifting apart for that matter.

Chapter 71

Bentley moved
to Langley as Frederic Strauss finished speaking. His frame seemed
large against the backdrop of the swivel chair he sat in. He didn’t
get up. Instead, he held his hands out and spoke.

“
Gentlemen, my archaeological discoveries are spot on. The
time has come to welcome a new dawn.”

“
Dr.
Bentley?” Langley enquired.

“
Yes, and
I’m sure most of you won’t know me. I doubt if I’ve ever been
mentioned in your illuminating works, but, nonetheless, I’m Arthur
Bentley.”

“
The
archaeologist,” Strauss acknowledged.

Before Strauss
could say another word, Bentley pushed some chairs aside and
strutted up the podium. He placed a flash drive into a
computer.

“
What
you’re about to see is real,” he said to the anxious crowd. “It is
a
precession
of equinoxes
.”

Langley stared
hard at what came up. Olsen had spoken to him about it but seeing
it was amazing.

“
This is
about the earth’s axis and its alignment to the sun over long
periods of time, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“
Yes.
This
precession
has
been culminating for some time causing tremendous natural
disasters. I’m sure you are aware of that.”

“
What
ar’you suggesting, Dr. Bentley?” Strauss rubbed his forehead. He
was becoming antsy.

“
I’m
suggesting things will change.”

“
This is
hogwash! Look, you don’t by any stretch of imagination expect
us...”

“
Shut up,
Strauss.” Langley shouted. “How long do
precessions
take, Dr. Bentley?”

“
Twenty
six thousand years for a complete cycle as determined by the most
advanced technology available today, the SIRTF, the Space Infrared
Telescope Facility. The cycle itself is divided into
ages.”

“
So, how
long does an age last?”

“
Two
thousand one hundred and sixty years to be exact.”

“
That
gives us twelve ages.”

“
We’re at
the end of the Age of Pisces.”

“
Pisces?
Good God!” Strauss’s reluctance to accept it all was mirrored in
his voice. He shifted as he felt someone’s breath on his neck. The
room was filling up with people and more were pouring
in.

“
Please
allow me to continue.” Bentley’s forefinger trembled as he passed
it along a keyboard. “I ask you now to take a close look at the
positions of our two largest planets, Jupiter and
Saturn.”

Langley felt a
rush of blood in his heart. Could this be? But, here it was in
front of him, the long prophesied Jupiter-Saturn union, an event
that could herald a new age.

He jumped as
Bentley’s voice rose.

“
This is
the long awaited Lord of the Dawn, the Age of Aquarius,” the
archaeologist declared.

Hands shot up.
The crowd pushed forward. “When will it be!” they cried out.

Bentley
switched the screen off. “Calculations, so far, indicate it is
between 2020 and 2050AD.”

Langley
thought nothing of the frenzy in the room and the pain of his
trampled feet. He stared at the larger than life archaeologist as
he thought of Newton’s 2060 prophecy.
Could it be
, he wondered? He bit down on his lips.

“
Is there
any way to be more precise?” he asked.

“
Dr.
Julius Olsen and I have been working on Inca data for some time,
hoping to hone in on a date.”

“
Any
reason why we should believe them?”