Bertie and the Hairdresser Who Ruled the World (14 page)

‘Yeah, sorry about that.'

‘Don't apologise. I think I'd do the same in your position. In fact, at the time, I think I did,' added Doreen thoughtfully. ‘Well, no matter, I did tell you it was going to be quite a story! I'll try and skip through some of the boring bits, but it's one of those stories where the boring bits are actually quite important. Anyway, Helen had just returned from the carnage of Troy in a foul mood, appalled at the pointless loss of life. Men had died in their tens of thousands, a dreadful waste, and all because of a petty lovers' tiff. She pledged herself there and then to do all in her power to prevent such stupidity ever occurring again and, with her daughter and a few other notable women, established the Sisterhood of Helen at Patara, a city in ancient Lycia, now a region of south-west Turkey. The Sisterhood had one aim only, and still does today: to moderate the stupidity of men – and believe me, have we had our work cut out for ourselves!'

‘Can't argue with that.'

‘Helen was an astonishing woman. We all know about her fabled beauty and the number of ships her face was supposed to have launched, which is, incidentally, an entirely apocryphal tale, but coupled with her unquestioned physical uniqueness was a penetrating mind and far-ranging vision. She realised right from the very beginning that the human race could only truly advance through pursuit of understanding and knowledge. This was a major revolution in thinking for the time since deities and religion supplied all the explanations for the natural workings of the world. The ancients believed in the Gods because it was expedient to do so, and kings could control their populations by claiming they had been instructed to invade this country or that by divine messages from the Gods themselves, which can be a bit tricky to corroborate.

‘Making an extraordinary leap of intuition, Helen, although publicly as conservative as any Spartan woman, had the foresight to see the value of natural philosophy – what we today call science. So, right from the outset, the Sisterhood concentrated its resources in two directions: the subtle control of political leaders to stop them engaging in endless wars, and the encouragement and preservation of science. Each was inextricably connected to the other – without periods of peace and social stability, science could not really establish itself and advance, and if catastrophe did fall and civilization failed, the knowledge to start all over again had to be preserved. So, on the one hand we discouraged war while on the other we nurtured and preserved scientific thought wherever we found it, from Egypt to Greece and later, to the Islamic world.

‘However, although natural philosophy was barely embryonic in Helen's time, there was one science that was already well developed. Astronomy. The ancient Greeks believed the earth was the centre of the universe. This was logical because no one could feel the planet move, and such a notion neatly fitted their religious views, but key philosophers and mathematicians questioned this assumption. A bright young man called Aristarchus upset a lot of people by suggesting the sun was the centre of the universe and that the planets all revolved around it in circular orbits. Seems logical to us now because we know that's actually the truth, but back then, well, what a fuss. His mistress was one of ours. She encouraged him in the face of ferocious conservative opposition. Pillow talk, one of the most formidable forces known to man! With her backing, he published his ideas while she, naturally, reported everything to the Sisterhood.

‘Sadly, he was before his time and religious dogma crushed his ideas for eighteen hundred years. Organised religion held absolute power during that time, forever dragging mankind back into the mud. Orthodoxy is the sworn enemy of both intelligence and curiosity and our civilisation floundered in nearly two millennia of intellectual darkness. Science was actively discouraged and only the great Islamic philosophers made progress. This was a bad time for the Sisterhood – especially after the fall of the Roman Empire. Not for nought were they called the Dark Ages. Heresy was punishable by death and any woman attempting to challenge the authority of the church was simply burned as a witch.

‘So we tinkered here, persuaded there, watching and waiting as the centuries rolled on by, frustrated, frightened, but still quietly encouraging where we could, failing on many occasions, as war after senseless war continually ravaged societies across the world, but a single success here and there amply compensated for the numerous failures. And, of course, we preserved as much knowledge as we could. Then, eventually, as is always the case, a few remarkable people were identified and subtly directed. We were the force that urged a brilliant man called Nicholas Copernicus to re-ignite the astronomical debate. Astronomy was always the key. All other branches of science were at that time either non-existent or at best, very basic, but if we could start an astronomical revolution then the other sciences would be drawn along it its wake.

‘Copernicus came through, bless him. He proved the sun was the centre of the solar system despite intense pressure from the authorities. We then found a ready and eager convert in Galileo, even though he was cruelly persecuted and forced to recant by the Inquisition. The Inquisition, by the way, was one of the most lethal forces we have ever encountered. They delighted in burning many Sisters, but none gave away our secret.

‘And all the time we accumulated knowledge, safeguarding it against loss through war and destruction. We already had ample evidence of how the destruction of such knowledge can cripple mankind for centuries. Have you ever heard of the fabled Library at Alexandria?

‘Yes, of course. Wasn't it burned and everything lost?' Celeste suddenly caught her breath at Doreen's gentle shake of the head. ‘No? You're joking!'

‘I'm not joking, Celeste. The burning of the library was the greatest disaster of the ancient world. Hundreds of thousands of documents were destroyed, an irretrievable loss – but the women who cleaned the library and stacked the shelves were all Sisters, and each night, as they cleaned and tidied, they also copied. For decades, they copied, and when the flames came it was the copies that were lost; over five thousand of the rarest, most precious and most remarkable scrolls were spirited away right under the librarians' noses. Original works by Aristotle, Euclid, Pythagoras, Ptolemy and Archimedes, all safe, along with originals from every philosopher and scientist since, spanning the entire history of Western culture.'

‘But this is extraordinary!' exclaimed Celeste, then remembered she was supposed to be a sceptic. ‘But only if it's true, of course.'

‘It's true all right.'

‘Then these relics must be absolutely priceless.'

‘They are all very precious financially, but to an infinitely greater degree as landmarks in the intellectual development of mankind. We treasure them all greatly and take great pride in preserving this knowledge.'

‘Where do you keep all these books? Not here, surely.' Celeste couldn't help glancing around. A hairdressing salon in Tewkesbury seemed an awfully incongruous place to house a library worthy of the Gods themselves.

‘All in good time.'

‘But surely other historians should be allowed to examine them?'

‘Perhaps, but there are two vital dangers to consider. The first is simple – to reveal what we keep would be to reveal our existence, and that would be fatal to us. Our political effectiveness would be destroyed. How do you think a Prime Minister or President would react to the knowledge that he'd been manipulated – by women! They would surely move against us and without the Sisterhood there would then be no check on their future idiocy.'

‘Yes, I can see that,' admitted Celeste.

‘The other danger is far more subtle. There are accepted beliefs so entrenched in our society that to reveal them as utterly false would be catastrophic. There are books and scrolls in our possession, for instance, which could raise some extremely awkward questions for some of the main religions of the world. These religions would certainly survive because many people need spiritual support in their lives, but an awful lot of people would have their faith shaken to the core. It's one of those paradoxes that although we've been struggling against religious orthodoxy for so long, we actually have in our possession the evidence to severely undermine many aspects of those religions. The fact that we've not done so is a powerful argument in favour of our benevolence since we have no wish to shatter the beliefs of millions of people.'

‘Don't tell me Jesus never existed!'

‘Of course he did. We have his diary, in which he laid out the theological framework for the book that eventually evolved into the Bible, but when you compare his extraordinary writings in original Aramaic with the earliest copies of the Bible, there are significant differences that can only be attributed to an agenda by those who had a vested interest in promoting the new religion. For example, the Bible has sanitised a considerable number of characters whose real behaviour was a little less saintly than generally accepted.'

‘Oh dear.'

Doreen shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. ‘Ever been to Padstow?'

‘No. Why?'

‘There's a woman in Padstow who's related through ninety-six generations to Christ! He was a human being, after all, with urges and passions. Actually, he was a bit of a scallywag. Knew he had only a few years left and used them to good effect. He was a handsome man and on a mission, two things irresistible to women. His aura of serene virtue was added later to conceal the existence of his three children.'

‘I'm not sure if I want know all this.'

‘In fact we have first-hand, cast-iron evidence of the actual existence of all manner of prophets, all of whom were compassionate, inspiring and remarkable people, but let's just say that for political expediency, the later official biographies of some were at considerable variance to what we know as the truth.

‘So, with the slow passage of time, we watched, influenced and tinkered where we could. Many Gaias were unknown to history, but some were not. Eleanor of Aquitaine was one, followed by her daughter-in-law, Berengaria. She was the wife of Eleanor's son, Richard the Lionheart. Now then, how's this for a chivalrous tale of derring-do. Richard was already on the Third Crusade when Berengaria was instructed to exert some pacifying influence on him and so she sailed for the Levant. Unfortunately, her ship ran aground in Cyprus where she was threatened by the island's ruler. When he heard of this, Richard booked a short holiday from the Crusade, hopped over to Cyprus with an army, beat merry hell out of the locals, rescued Berengaria and married her in the Chapel of Saint George in Limassol. How's that for a romantic knight in shining armour story!'

‘Wonderful. Did they live happily ever after?'

‘No. He was as gay as a pair of pink leather jodhpurs!'

‘Hey, don't knock 'em,' retorted Celeste. ‘I've got a pair and they're lovely.'

‘I might have guessed,' sighed Doreen. ‘Anyway, there were no kids from that union. Berengaria did her best to mollify him when she became Gaia herself, but to no avail. We tried desperately to influence the kings and princes of the day not to go on the Crusades, but were unsuccessful. We're still reaping the bitter consequences of that little catastrophe, even today.'

‘How do you know all this? All these people and dates?'

‘I'm Gaia. I've learned. It's my duty, but also my pleasure. How can you not be interested in something as wonderful as this?'

‘Well, one thing's for sure, I'm going to have to rethink my entire knowledge of history,' muttered Celeste, then again remembered to be sceptical. ‘If it's true, of course.'

‘Girl, I haven't even started! This has been going on for well over three thousand years – the entire duration of our civilization, and it's still going on at the moment. I'm endeavouring to avoid an unnecessary and potentially nasty little war developing between Paraguay and Bolivia. You have no idea how exasperating it is trying to massage the egos of two colossally stupid presidents!'

‘That should be easy enough,' said Celeste. ‘One of them's bound to have a mistress – that's the only reason for becoming so important. Get your girl to deny him sex. Then again, he's probably impotent, so the humiliation of having the press reveal that Captain Inert is now lodging in his presidential trousers should be sufficient to deter even the most warlike of dictators.'

‘Already done. Nice to see you're thinking along my lines.'

‘My pleasure. Let's get back to the Sisterhood.'

‘Oh, so now you want to know more! Curiosity getting to you?'

‘I have to say there is a compelling side to your story,' admitted Celeste coyly. ‘What happened after Galileo?'

‘Well, the next great breakthrough came with Sir Isaac Newton. Now, I definitely know you've heard of him.'

‘Apples in orchards. Bump on the head resulted in concussion, during which he invented gravity, or so I believe.'

‘More or less. Isaac was a remarkably intuitive man, uniquely talented, gifted beyond measure, possessing a profound insight and a penetrating, incisive mind, capable of outstanding clarity of thought rarely seen throughout our entire history.'

‘You like him, then?'

‘He was stellar, in every sense of the word. Cleverest man that's ever walked the planet, bar none. Centuries before his time. His talents attracted our attention from very early on and we were on the point of recruiting his half-niece, Catherine Barton, but there was no need. Isaac had already deduced our existence, the only person to do so in our entire history. To him, it was obvious that someone had to be saving the knowledge of the ancients, someone had to be quietly influencing world leaders, and having pondered on the problem, came to his conclusions on sheer intellect alone. From the few scattered sources still available, he followed our path across Europe to Britain and somehow figured out where we were based.