the Source (2008) (29 page)

Moments earlier

The shot had been a reflex. Bazin had pulled the trigger as soon as Ross had made his sudden move. His experience told him it had been a death-shot but when he tried to move closer and confirm it, the nymphs hissed and bared their teeth. Sharp teeth. There were too many and he wished he had brought the flame-thrower with him. As he hung back with the Superior General, and watched them carry Ross up the tunnel, something nagged at him. It took him a moment to recognize it as guilt. He had barely known the people he had killed in the past, let alone befriended them. And not one had ever saved his life.

'I saw the wound in his chest,' said Torino. 'Is he dead?'

'As good as,' said Bazin. 'I shot him through the heart. Why are they taking him up there?'

Torino narrowed his eyes. 'Can't you guess?' They followed as far as the waterfall and could see shapes moving in the dark holes above. Then the nymphs started their chanting and carried Ross's motionless body to the place where the worms had attacked. Torino turned to Bazin. 'Remember what Kelly told us about the dying nymph being fed to those creatures?'

'I hope, for his sake, my shot did kill him.'

'It doesn't matter now,' said Torino. 'Either way he's dead.'

Four of the nymphs turned suddenly, bared their teeth and hissed at them. Other nymphs closed in. 'We've seen all we need to,' said Torino. 'Tomorrow we'll use the nymphs to get to the top. Let's go.'

They walked back down the tunnel, the sound of chanting in their ears.

Chapter
67.

The first thing Ross became aware of as he flickered awake was that the chanting had ceased. Then the pain kicked in again. And the fear. He didn't dare open his eyes - he didn't want the last thing he saw to be the rock worms.

Why the hell am I still alive?

He felt hands under him and realized he was still moving. He opened an eye. The light was even more dazzling than before. Above him, the crystalline ceiling of the tunnel sparkled with increased intensity. He turned his head and saw no sign of the dark chamber or the infested holes and passageways. Relief coursed through him. The nymphs had taken him further up the tunnel, beyond the rock worms.

He glanced at his feet and his relief turned to excitement. The tunnel was ending. He was rounding a corner and passing through a wide portal into a chamber of such brilliance that it made the tunnel appear gloomy by comparison. Had he any breath left he would have gasped. The whole place seemed to pulse as if its phosphorescent walls and ceiling were alive; he could see small glowing creatures in the lattice of crystal that encrusted the walls. It was warmer here too. He heard a rushing sound, looked up and saw water falling from the high ceiling through an opening concealed behind crystalline, chandelier-bright stalactites. It filled a small pool in the middle of the chamber, which fed the stream that ran down the tunnel into the garden, but before it reached the pool it hit an object so dazzling that the spray ricocheting off its surface fizzed and sparked like electricity. But it was the object itself, and what appeared to be growing from it, that commanded Ross's attention.

Even as he coughed up blood and felt his chest contract for the last time, tears stung his eyes. In all his years studying the natural wonders of the world he had never seen anything so beautiful. He felt a burst of gratitude. If he had to die, if he had to leave Lauren and never know their child, then at least he had seen this. As the darkness claimed him and his heart stopped beating, he smiled at the irony of dying now, here - in the presence of what had given birth to all life on this once barren planet.

The Sacred Heart Hospital, Bridgeport, Connecticut

As Ross Kelly lay dying, Lauren lay comatose in her hospital bed in Connecticut, watched over by her mother. The unborn child inside her womb now weighed more than one and a half pounds. Although it looked normal on the scans, many of its vital organs, particularly its lungs, were still underdeveloped.

It would be difficult for a baby so premature to survive undamaged outside the womb but, amazingly, with the help of ventilators, monitors and medication, it could be delivered in a few weeks and live. It would need to spend time in hospital but the truth was that, although its current chances of survival were slim, they were now significantly better than those of either its mother or its father.

By the next morning the rain had stopped and the sky was as clear and blue as it can be in the rainforest. Sitting with Hackett and Zeb, Sister Chantal couldn't help but contrast the frantic buzz of activity coming from Torino's men with their own quiet despair. Last night's escape attempt had been disastrous in its futility. In their hurry they hadn't seen the trip-wire in the rain and the alarm had sounded before they could reach the passage to the sulphur caves. The soldiers had rounded them up in minutes.

When Torino and Bazin had told them Ross was dead she had seen her own shock and disbelief reflected in Zeb's and Hackett's eyes. Juarez's death had been terrible but no one had purposely killed him. Ross, however, had been shot. Not only had Bazin murdered him, but Torino - the Superior General of the Society of Jesus - had sanctioned it. It appeared there was nothing he would not do in the name of protecting his precious Church.

Hackett looked exhausted. All his dreams had been dashed. He would never return to his lost city and reveal its treasures to the world. Zeb seemed equally subdued. She had come on a grand adventure to save her friend and discover the mythical place described in the Voynich. But things hadn't turned out as she'd hoped. As for Sister Chantal's long-cherished dream of fulfilling her vow, it took all her self-control not to bow her head and weep. She glanced at the mound of stones where Father Orlando was buried. Was this how she would end her long vigil, fruitlessly, without passing on her burden?

'I hope Lauren never wakes up,' said Zeb. Her unkempt red hair no longer made her look feisty and individual, just young and vulnerable. 'She'd hate to think Ross died trying to save her. Nigel, I bet you wish you were back in your lost city and had never set foot in this "miraculous garden".' She spat the last two words.

He managed a rueful grin. 'Wouldn't have missed it for the world. My only regret is that I came to protect you and made a bit of a hash of it.'

She reached across with her bound hands to pat his arm. 'You didn't do so bad. You saved me from the snake when we passed that mound of bat shit.'

'I suppose.' He shrugged and gazed out across the garden to where two soldiers were cleaning their guns and refuelling the flame-throwers. Torino, Bazin and Fleischer stood in a huddle by the tents. 'The question is, what's going to happen to us now?'

Sister Chantal sighed. 'Whatever the Superior General has planned,' she said. 'We'll find out soon enough.'

Torino paced outside the tents. 'I want everything in place before we go up again. Are the devices ready?'

Feldwebel Fleischer nodded. 'Gerber has placed all the thermite and napalm to achieve the maximum effect you asked for.'

Bazin frowned. 'You're not really going to use them, are you, Father General?'

His half-brother was beginning to annoy Torino. He hoped Bazin wouldn't become a problem and interfere with his plans. 'Relax, Marco, it's just a contingency.' He rested a hand on Fleischer's shoulder. 'Feldwebel Fleischer understands. It's a scorched-earth policy to ensure no one can use this unusual garden and its creatures to harm the Church. Prevent its falling into enemy hands, so to speak.'

Bazin nodded, apparently satisfied.

Torino turned back to the sergeant. 'How do I activate them?'

Fleischer handed him a matt-black box, no bigger than a radio. On one featureless face was a green light diode and a flip switch, which covered a red button. 'Gerber has fitted the devices with wireless detonators. Flick the switch to arm the device and reveal the detonator button. You can press it as soon as the green light comes on.'

'How about getting up the tunnel?'

'We're going to round up two of the nymphs now, Father General.'

'If they don't co-operate, shoot them and get two more. They'll soon learn. And when we go up this time I don't just want to get past the worms. I want to destroy as many of them as possible.'

'They'll be easier to kill when they're still,' said Fleischer. 'Shotguns worked best last time. And we'll load the Heckler & Kochs with armour-piercing rounds.'

'Good,' said Torino. 'Come and tell me once you've got everything ready, Feldwebel.'

When Fleischer left to talk to his men, Torino pulled Bazin closer and lowered his voice. 'The new Vatican will be built around whatever's up that tunnel, and its miracles used for the good of the Church. To do the most good, however, we must keep it secret. No one must know about the source of these miracles, except the Holy Mother Church. This is holy work, Marco, and you are privileged to be part of it.'

Bazin indicated the three prisoners. 'What about them? How can we be sure they won't talk when we leave?'

Torino narrowed his eyes. 'No one will leave.'

'Is it necessary to kill them?'

It amused Torino that his half-brother, a remorseless assassin when he had killed for money, should worry now about killing for a righteous cause. 'No one will leave,' he said again.

'The soldiers?'

'They have a purpose for now. But once their job is done, only you and I will leave here. You understand? Only you and I can be trusted to protect the purity of this place. If you do this, Marco, if you fulfil this sacred task, your sins will be wiped out and the Holy Father himself will bless you for your work in claiming this shrine for the Holy Mother Church.' He paused. 'You still need redemption, don't you, Marco?'

Bazin nodded again. This time more slowly. 'Yes,' he said.

Chapter
69.

Sister Chantal entered the tunnel of blood shackled like a slave to Hackett, Zeb - and the two nymphs in front of them. Their hands were bound and a connecting rope looped round their necks. Behind them marched Petersen, Gerber and Bazin, with the rope secured round his waist. Fleischer and Torino took up the rear. Torino evidently hoped that the nymphs would pacify the creatures that had devoured Weber, Ross and the conquistadors. If they failed, she, Zeb and Hackett would act as human shields.

Sister Chantal had always suspected that Torino wouldn't let them leave the garden alive but she hadn't expected to die like this. When the Inquisition had handed Father Orlando to the secular authorities to be burnt at the stake it had been a case of ecclesiaabhorret a sanguine, the Church shrinks from blood. This time, however, the Superior General would simply distance himself from her death - allow it to happen. This time there would be plenty of blood.

Her fear and anger that her long life of sacrifice should end so pointlessly was only tempered by the hope that the nymphs would perform their task and she might see what lay at the end of the tunnel.

The nymphs stopped abruptly by the waterfall.

'They're up there,' said Bazin, pushing her aside.

'Where?' said Zeb. She held Hackett's hand, squeezing it.

'Top of the waterfall,' Hackett said. 'Right side of the chamber. The holes in the wall.'

Sister Chantal peered up and thought she saw movement but couldn't be sure. She heard a click, then a jet of flame shot past her at the nymphs. As they ascended the steps by the waterfall they began to chant. The rope tautened and Sister Chantal followed. Torino and the soldiers waited until the nymphs walked past the dark chamber. As Sister Chantal followed, she glanced at the deep recesses in the rock to her right and saw countless red eyes staring balefully at her. Besides the holes the walls were riven with dark passageways that led to places she didn't even want to imagine.

'The chanting's working,' Bazin hissed behind her.

Torino and the others moved quickly, passing her and the nymphs, until they were beyond the holes - safe. Then, just as she thought she, too, would reach safety, she felt the rope slacken. Bazin had blocked the nymphs' path, leaving them standing directly in front of the hole-riddled chamber. Then he and the three soldiers approached the holes. One stood back with a flame-thrower, while the other three advanced, laden with guns, and opened fire. Immediately one weapon was spent they switched to another. The noise was deafening and the carnage devastating. For many moments the creatures remained motionless, as though their instinct to obey the barely audible chant of the nymphs was more powerful than their instinct to survive. By the time any reacted the holes were oozing with viscous, black-red blood, and the few that attacked were easily repelled. Through the gunfire she heard an inhuman scream well up from deep within the bowels of the caves, building in volume and intensity. The tunnel shook and trembled, dislodging shards of encrusted crystal. When the soldiers eventually ceased firing at the gaping, bleeding holes in the wall, she heard a loud whispering: the rustle of worms moving through the rock around her. Escaping.

Although the carnage sickened her, her legs trembled with relief. She was prepared for death but this was not how she wanted to end her life. Moreover, she wanted desperately to see the Source before she died. Torino and the others turned to continue the ascent and she moved to follow. But Bazin blocked the way, and for a chilling moment she thought he was going to leave them there. Then he took her arm and helped her up the path. As he did so, the Superior General turned to her and smiled, but she couldn't read his dark eyes.

As they rounded the final corner of the tunnel Torino saw a portal ahead, leading to a chamber of breathtaking brilliance. An overwhelming sense of anticipation, privilege and responsibility descended on him. He had always known the Church had singled him out for greatness, ever since the Jesuits had plucked him from the gutters of Naples, nurtured his talent and pushed him to become the best he could be. He had repaid their faith by eschewing all worldly pleasures, becoming the Society's youngest ever Superior General and the Holy Mother Church's most dedicated and committed servant. However, even his sense of destiny hadn't prepared him for this. He sensed he was about to glimpse the face of God, and the notion humbled him. God had chosen him not only to witness whatever lay ahead but also to be its guardian.

He turned to Bazin and the others. 'Wait here.'

Not waiting for their response, he walked into the chamber.

He took only four steps inside before he gasped and clasped his hands in prayer. The chamber was nothing less than a temple to God's miracle of life. The air itself fizzed with it. He could feel its power in his hair and fingertips. A pool in the centre glowed as if lit from beneath, and the crystal rock formations that encrusted the entire chamber were host to countless phosphorescent life forms, which added to the ambient radiance. But they were as nothing compared to the twelve-foot-high mass that loomed over the pool and dominated the chamber. In this temple to life this towering object, this presence, was its altar.

Torino knelt in worship, careful not to get too close to the multifaceted, crystalline monolith before him, which radiated intense heat and light. One facet had a gold metallic crust, another was pearlescent, a third a clear prism, with veins of silver and gold that reflected all the colours of the rainbow. Protruding from one facet was a huge, hydra-like growth, whose trunk rose to the crystalline ceiling and spread out into countless tubular branches or tentacles, which burrowed into the walls and across the chamber. They appeared to possess both plant and animal features: stems and leaves, flesh and pulsing veins. Yet the section of trunk nearest the monolith appeared metallic and crystalline, as though it had taken on the properties of the object from which it grew. The combined entity formed a unique hybrid of flora, fauna and mineral, fused so seamlessly that it was impossible to discern where one ended and another began. From one angle the hydra's iridescent roots were visible deep within the monolith's crystal heart, which shimmered and pulsed with life. Though the water falling from the ceiling formed a clear channel in its crust, exposing clear, crystalline rock, there was no apparent erosion in the crystal. The monolith appeared to be constantly renewing itself, forever changing and forever the same.

No doubt Dr Ross Kelly would have explained the phenomenon as the result of some alien rock falling from the heavens, and he might have been right. Torino, however, knew that God had sent it. He couldn't help but smile when he considered the small black meteorite that formed one of the cornerstones of the Kaaba, the cubic building within the Sacred Mosque at Mecca, believed by Muslims to have been built by Abraham. Some regarded the black stone as sacred, believing it had fallen from the sky during the time of Adam and Eve and that it had the power to cleanse worshippers of their sins by absorbing them into itself. They claimed that the stone was once pure and dazzling white and had turned black because of the sins it had taken into itself.

This beautiful stone, however, really was sacred. Its demonstrable miraculous powers would become the brilliant cornerstone of the Holy Mother Church, underpinning its power, eclipsing all other religions. He felt giddy at the prospect of what the future held and had to suppress a nervous impulse to laugh. Whatever the pope and Vasari had felt about his coming here, Torino knew that after seeing this the Holy Father would forgive - and give - him anything. He got to his feet, stepped closer and studied the hydra growing out of the fertile crystal. Radix, meaning 'root' as well as 'source', took on a fresh significance. This must be what Orlando Falcon had meant by vita quod mors arbor, the Tree of Life and Death.

But why death?

He walked round the chamber. As well as the entrance from the glowing tunnel and the opening in the ceiling, through which the water flowed on to the monolith, there was a darker exit, which appeared to lead down into a warren of black passageways. He thought of the rock worms and shuddered.

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him. Bazin was standing in the doorway to the chamber, his face illuminated by the monolith's rainbow hues. 'It's so beautiful.'

Torino smiled. 'Now who can doubt that God exists?' Suddenly he felt magnanimous. 'Let Sister Chantal and the others come in. Everyone should see this once before they die.'