Europa Conspiracy (Babylon Rising 3) (8 page)

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envelope. He concluded, "We could find Belshazzar's famous Handwriting on the Wall. I think that Methuselah was telling us it is in Babylon."

"We?"

Murphy smiled. "Yes,
we.
I need your help. You have the expertise to determine the validity of the writing."

"You need my expertise!" Isis's normally soft Scottish brogue sounded a little irritated. Murphy realized that he hadn't communicated what he really wanted to say He leaned forward, stretched out a hand toward her, and said soberly, "Isis, I want
you
to go with me. Even if we don't find anything, I want you by my side."

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FIFTEEN

IT WAS 7:00 P.M. when Murphy drove his old Dodge into the parking lot of the Quiet River Nursing Home.

The gray-haired receptionist greeted him with a smile. He asked for Dr. Harley B. Anderson and was directed to the library, down the hall on the left.

All nursing homes smell the same
, Murphy thought as he strode down the corridor.

There was only one person in the small library when Murphy entered. The elderly man seated at the desk had a full head of bushy white hair. He was neatly dressed in a sports shirt and khaki pants, bifocals perched on the tip of his nose. He was deeply engrossed in a book. He didn't look like someone who was out of his mind and not in touch with reality.

"Excuse me, sir. Would you happen to be Dr. Anderson?"

The man lifted his head and paused. Murphy could see

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Anderson was trying to figure out how a stranger knew his name.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Anderson, young man."

Murphy stuck out his hand. "My name is Dr. Michael Murphy. I'm a professor at Preston University in Raleigh, North Carolina. Do you mind if I join you?"

"Be my guest," the older man answered. "Have we met before? My memory seems to be fading a little."

"No, sir. I became acquainted with you through a newspaper article and a Sergeant East of the Orlando Police Department. The article mentioned something about your concerns over the end of the world."

Anderson sat up quickly His eyes brightened and the weariness seemed to erase from his face. "What did you say you were a professor of?"

"I didn't say, but I'm a professor of biblical archaeology."

"So you know a lot about the Bible?"

"You might say that. I've studied the Bible for many years."

"Good! Then maybe I've finally found someone who will understand. Let me start at the beginning of the story. I am an embryologist. I was one of the early pioneers in the field of artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization. Of course, I've long since retired. Anyway, in 1967, I was working with a gynecologist named Dr. J. M. Talpish on a project in Transylvania, Romania."

As Murphy listened, it didn't take him long to realize that Dr. Anderson was not suffering from Alzheimer's or another brain disorder. The man was as rational as Murphy himself.

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Dr. Anderson continued, "We discovered a process to artificially inseminate motile spermatozoa into female eggs outside of the womb. This was done under high-powered microscopes in the laboratory. The fertilized eggs remained in salt solutions in petri dishes until they were implanted into the endometrial lining of the uterus of the birth mother."

"Excuse me, Dr. Anderson, it's my understanding that the first in vitro fertilization and successful birth took place in England in 1978. I believe Drs. Steptoe and Edwards were the first pioneers."

Dr. Anderson frowned. "They were the ones who got the
credit
for being first... but Talpish and I were about twelve years ahead of them. We weren't allowed to publish our results or talk to anyone about them."

Murphy was really interested now.

Dr. Anderson continued, hardly taking a breath. He had a secret that he wanted to divulge and Murphy had a listening ear. "We artificially inseminated a donor egg and implanted it into the uterus of a young Gypsy woman, a girl of about eighteen years of age. It was a very strange situation.
We
were hired by a group of people who identified themselves as Friends of the New World Order. They paid us a great deal of money to artificially inseminate the girl."

"When you say strange, what do you mean?"

"Well, this group of people provided the egg and also the semen. Our job was to put them together and implant an egg into the girl.
We
were sworn to absolute secrecy.
We
stayed with the project until the birth of the child. It was a boy. Then--"

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"Then what?" Murphy was fascinated.

"My associate, Dr. Talpish, was killed in a mysterious automobile accident. I soon realized that it was
not
an accident. I believe the group of people who hired us had him murdered. To protect myself, I shipped all of my papers and project notes to my daughter in the United States. She placed them into a safe deposit box. I left instructions with her that if I were to die mysteriously she should mail the notes to the newspapers.

"It wasn't long after the death of Dr. Talpish that some of the group that had hired us paid me a visit. I had the feeling that they were going to do something to me, so I spoke up before they had a chance. I told them that I had sent my papers to the United States for safekeeping. They were irate, threatened me. They told me that if I ever said anything to anyone, they would kill my wife and my daughter. And they meant it!"

"Is your family still alive?"

"No, a couple years later my wife passed away It was a natural death. I then went to live with my daughter. She never married. She died of liver disease about a year ago. Then I came to live in this home."

"Have you heard from the group again?" Murphy asked.

"No, they've left me alone. I think they don't want to stir things up."

"So why are you walking the streets telling your story now?"

"I guess I want to clear my conscience," the old man said. "I think we did something terribly bad. I was able to follow up on the boy the Gypsy woman bore for

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about five years and then I lost contact. I think the group moved the woman somewhere--or got rid of her. I'm not sure. Recently I started doing some reading about prophecy and the Bible. What I read frightened me. It talked about a coming evil person who would rule the world. The more I read, the more I became convinced that Dr. Talpish and I had possibly helped in the birth of that person. It's all in my papers in the safe deposit box."

Murphy was riveted.

"I've been diagnosed with leukemia; the doctors have given me only a few months to live. My wife and daughter are dead, and I will soon be joining them. What possible harm can the group do to me now?" Dr. Anderson asked with a wry smile. "I want to try to do something to make up for my past actions. I need to alert people of the danger ahead. I feel so guilty, like Judas in the Bible--the one who betrayed Jesus. How can God ever forgive me?"

A look of frustration and fear came over his face.

Murphy could sense the pain that he must have been carrying for years. "God will forgive you," he said emphatically. "He forgives anyone who will come to Him, no matter how wicked or selfish they have been."

"I haven't been concerned about God for my eighty-plus years. It's too late for me now."

"It's never too late. Do you remember the story of Jesus' death on the cross? Two other men were crucified with him that day. They were both thieves. One of them asked Jesus to save him--just minutes before he was to die. Jesus said, This day you will be with me in paradise.'

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The same could be true for you, Dr. Anderson," Murphy said sincerely, "if you would only invite Him into your life."

"Excuse me." The gray-haired receptionist entered the library, smiled at the two men, and said, "I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over. I'm afraid that you'll have to leave now. If you want to continue your conversation with Dr. Anderson, it will have to be tomorrow."

"You must come back tomorrow! I have much more to tell you," Dr. Anderson exclaimed.

Later, back in his motel room, Murphy sat on the bed trying to process his talk with the old doctor.

Could it be true? Could Anderson and his partner have been in on the birth of the Anti-Christ? That would mean that he is alive today
...
about thirty-eight.

Murphy knew that if he was ever going to get to sleep, he'd have to change what he was thinking about. He turned on the television and began to unpack his suitcase. He had just stepped out of the bathroom when something caught his attention.

The announcer said, "We have a late-breaking story. A bizarre animal attack took place today when a Sergeant Owen East, of the Orlando Police Department, was nearly killed by a falcon. Eyewitnesses state that they saw a large bird, which some believe was a falcon, swoop down out of the sky and land on the sergeant. He was leaving work when the incident took place. Another off-duty officer ran to his aid. He was able to beat off the bird with his nightstick. Doctors at Mercy Hospital

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say that Sergeant East is in critical condition. Dr. Alfred Fordham, the physician in charge, says that the officer's voice box was severely damaged and there was a great deal of blood loss. On another news front--"

That has to be Talon's work!

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SIXTEEN

THE BLACK SUV pulled under a willow tree by the curb and stopped. As Talon rolled down the window, classical music could be heard coming from within.

He smiled.
Two for one. This will be a good day.

He opened up a book by Edgar Allan Poe and began to read.

"Dr. Murphy. I'm so glad to see you," Dr. Anderson said, smiling broadly. "Would you mind if we went for a walk and talked? This nursing home is quite depressing. It's nice to be with someone young whose mind is still good."

"That would be fine, it's a beautiful day. I noticed a small park not far from here. There's a coffee shop next to it. We could get something to drink and maybe even a cinnamon roll."

"You've discovered my weakness. I go there often." Dr. Anderson grinned.

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Murphy and Dr. Anderson strolled down the path by the park. Magnificent willows shaded the walkway.

"Dr. Murphy, before you arrived I went to the office at Quiet River. The chief operating officer is a notary. I had him witness this letter." Dr. Anderson handed Murphy a single sheet of paper.

Federated Bank & Trust

New York City, New York

To Whom It May Concern:

The bearer of this letter, Dr. Michael Murphy, has been given permission by me to retrieve items out of my safe deposit box. Because of health conditions, my doctors will not allow me to travel great distances. I therefore have given Dr. Murphy the power of attorney to act on my behalf.

Please afford him your kind assistance. Thank you for your help in this matter.

Most sincerely yours,

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"I'm not sure I understand." Murphy looked up at Dr. Anderson, puzzled.

"Dr. Murphy, I don't have a great deal of time left. I need to get that information into the hands of someone who can alert the proper people. I think you are that person. I know that we just met yesterday, but there's something about you I trust. Would you please do this for a dying old man?"

The plea in Anderson's eyes was hard to resist.

"Of course I will," Murphy said. "I'd be happy to help you."

"Thank you so very much. You don't know what that means to me."

Talon turned down the music, rolled up the window, and started the SUV.
Now it's payback time for my little swim in the Black Sea, Dr. Murphy.

His eyes focused on Murphy and his load of coffee and rolls.

Patience. Just have patience. It's a virtue, you know.

Murphy wasn't aware of the SUV behind him as he came out of the coffee shop. He was looking at Dr. Anderson, who was standing near a park bench. Murphy's hands were loaded with coffee and cinnamon rolls, and he was trying not to drop anything. Only as he neared Dr. Anderson did he notice that something was wrong. The old man's eyes were wide and his mouth was gaping open as he stared at something behind Murphy that terrified him.

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Murphy's martial arts training instantly kicked into gear. Dropping the coffee and rolls, he leaped forward, trying to grab for the doctor. As their hands touched, he could hear the roar of the SUV closing in at great speed.

Murphy tried to jump to the side and pull Dr. Anderson with him, but it was too late. He could feel the doctor being ripped from his grip as the left front fender of the SUV hit the old man and sent him flying in the air. Murphy had moved just far enough away that he bounced off the side of the SUV and rolled away, dazed but alive.

Talon, not bothering to get out of the SUV, believed he had accomplished his task. Pleased, he stepped on the gas and disappeared around a corner. Murphy pulled himself together and limped over to Dr. Anderson. He seemed to still be breathing... but it was shallow.

"Doctor! Doctor! Hang on! I'll get some help!"

A feeble hand reached up. Murphy bent until his ear was close to the doctor's mouth. "The key. Around my neck," Dr. Anderson whispered.

Murphy could see a chain around the old man's neck. Blood was oozing out over it.

"I want to be like the thief...on the cross," Dr. Anderson murmured before his eyes fluttered closed one last time.