the Source (2008) (30 page)

Chapter
70.

When Sister Chantal saw the monolith she did exactly as Torino had done: she fell to her knees and prayed. After waiting centuries to see it she had no doubt in her mind that it was God's work - it was too beautiful and awe-inspiring to have been anything else. She noticed Torino watching her.

'Surely now you understand why the Holy Mother Church must claim it,' he said.

'No religion may claim it. It's far greater than any church. Whoever sees this glorious jewel of creation - whether Christian, Jew or Muslim - will see their God reflected in it, and that's how it should be.' It dawned on her then that religion was merely a language. How we spoke with God depended on which culture we were born into. Nothing more. Nothing less.

As Zeb Quinn stared wordlessly at the monolith she knew, with utter certainty, that the object before her had nothing to do with any abstract god but with Gaia. When people talked about climate change, global warming, acid rain and every other ecological concern - it all boiled down to one thing: keeping Mother Earth alive, keeping her heart beating. This pulsing crystalline rock, with its tree-like growth, was nothing less than Gaia's beating heart, the engine of life that drove all that was good on Mother Earth.

She considered mankind's unique and contradictory position as the one species capable of both protecting and destroying Mother Earth. This pulsing rock epitomized humanity's stark choice: either to nurture the mother that had given it life, or to exploit her.

As a doctor, Nigel Hackett saw nothing remotely religious or spiritual in the monolith, but he was no less awestruck by it. The monolith's significance was so immense that he felt no need to overlay it with God or Gaia. To him, this was simply the point of origin for all life on the planet, the first genotype, containing the original building blocks and base genetic instructions that had led ultimately to humanity's current genetic programming: DNA. He could feel the radioactive charge in the air and wondered what level a Geiger counter would show. He knew that radioactivity had the power to affect DNA; it was infamous for causing cancers. So it wasn't a great leap to see how this incredible rock might positively affect the human genome - repair it, create it.

As he watched the water rushing over the monolith's surface, washing microscopic elements of its essence into the pool beneath it, then down the stream in the tunnel to the lake in the garden, he could only marvel at its power. If just this dilute contact with water was enough to create the miraculous garden and all its creatures, and engender the crystals that encrusted the tunnel to the antechamber, it was no surprise that it had once seeded a whole planet. And when he looked at the hydra-like growth he wondered how long it had been growing from the crystal - its branches or arms probably extended throughout the cave system. A sudden insight came to him then, heaping wonder upon wonder: the hydra might be the oldest living organism on the planet, as old as life itself, a multicellular creature that continued to evolve within its own lifetime and need never die.

Anger intruded on Hackett's awe. How could Torino use something as wonderful as this to bolster his superstitious belief in an invisible god? Far from proving God's existence, Hackett believed this amazing entity proved that nature was miraculous. However, as he absorbed its shimmering beauty, he said none of this. His words would be wasted on Torino. Instead he told himself to feel grateful that he had at least seen this wonder.

Torino turned to Bazin and the soldiers. 'We'll go back now and finalize plans for when we leave this place. And I need a rock hammer.' He indicated the monolith - the Source. 'I want a sample.'

'We didn't bring one,' said Fleischer.

'Dr Kelly was a geologist. Look in his backpack. He may have something.'

Bazin glanced at Hackett and the others. 'What about them?'

'You know what to do.'

Chapter
71.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Zeb was amazed by how quickly the most intense sense of wonder could evaporate in the face of imminent danger. From being transfixed by the Source, she was now too busy panicking to give it a second thought. She still couldn't believe that Torino, Bazin and the soldiers had left them tethered to a rock near the blood-and-viscera-splattered worm holes, then continued down the tunnel with the nymphs.

'What if those things come back?' she had shouted after them. 'What if others come?' As she'd watched their backs disappear down the tunnel she had known the answer and, sure enough, ten minutes later, she could hear the rock around her whispering.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

'Hurry, Nigel, hurry. They're coming back.' The place was like a charnel house from the earlier slaughter but Hackett seemed oblivious of the mess as he knelt between them, holding the rope in his bound hands, sawing it against the sharpest edge of the rock.

'Hurry, Nigel! Hurry!' Sister Chantal pressed.

'What a good idea,' Hackett said drily, through gritted teeth, fingers working furiously. 'That had never occurred to me.' He had already tried to untangle the knot but with bound hands it had been impossible. Zeb could see that some of the fraying rope strands had parted but plenty more were still intact.

'We're running out of time,' she said. 'They're coming.'

'I know,' said Hackett. 'I can hear them. What exactly do you suggest I do that I'm not doing now?'

'Bite it!' snapped Sister Chantal.

Hackett kept sawing the rope against the rock. More strands parted, but the whispering was harsher - and louder. Zeb's knees turned to jelly as she imagined the worms' rough carapaces rasping against the rock. All she could think about was whether it would be better to be devoured first, or watch Nigel and Sister Chantal torn to pieces before her. The noise increased and the surrounding rock shook.

Zeb had a sudden desire to fill these precious moments with human warmth before pain and death claimed her: to pull Nigel away from his futile task and kiss him on the lips, then hug Sister Chantal close. She wanted to tell them how important they had become to her - especially the Englishman.

'Almost there,' said Hackett, stubbornly refusing to give in.

She could smell the creatures now as they rushed through the warm, confined space: rancid and fetid. She glanced down at the rope. Hackett had made good progress but when he pulled at the remaining strands they held firm.

'Bugger,' he said, then continued to saw.

She spied movement in three of the deepest holes, all at head height. Mesmerized, she watched three pairs of red eyes racing towards her - one straight at her face. Such was her terror that she didn't even try to move out of the way - there was no point. All she could do was rasp, 'I can see them. They're here.'

For the first time, Hackett looked up from his task. Despite her shock, she marvelled at his expression when he saw the creatures. He didn't exhibit the terror she felt or the horror she saw on Sister Chantal's face. He looked annoyed, as if the worms weren't playing fair. Then he went back to his task.

'Break, you bastard. Break.'

Even if Hackett cut the rope now the creatures were too close. She saw Sister Chantal start to pray. Zeb wanted to look away, but couldn't. She felt compelled to see what was about to kill her.

'Done it,' said Hackett, pulling the rope apart. Zeb detected a note of satisfaction in his voice, even though it was too late and they were seconds from death. She felt his hand take hers and squeeze. 'It's okay,' he said. 'We're all in this together.' He spoke with such composure that he almost calmed her.

When the first worm rifled out of the hole she closed her eyes and braced herself. Her anticipation was so intense that she didn't hear the sound at first. It was only when the attack didn't materialize that she became aware of the chanting. She opened her eyes. The worms had retreated into their holes and were now motionless.

The nymphs have returned, she thought, and looked down the tunnel, expecting to see Torino and the soldiers coming back. Sister Chantal raised her bound hands and pointed frantically towards one of the dark passages by the holes. Zeb saw an indistinct figure chanting the calming incantation and beckoning to them. She registered the staring rock worms and shuddered at the prospect of seeking refuge in their black, infested warren. No one wanted to enter the dragons' lair.

Then she heard more chanting coming from the tunnel of blood. Torino was returning with his nymphs in harness. 'The others are coming back,' said Hackett. 'We can't let them find us.'

They had no choice now. Zeb and the others ran into the dark passage. In the gloom, the shadowy figure stopped chanting, reached out and cut their wrist ties. 'Come with me,' a voice said, and led them into the darkness. 'I know another way down.'

Zeb gasped. It was impossible. Bazin had shot him and the worms had devoured him. Torino had told them as much. And yet, as his strong hand gripped hers and pulled her deeper into the passage, Ross Kelly didn't sound dead. On the contrary, he sounded and felt very much alive.

Chapter
72.

As they descended the dark passageway, Sister Chantal heard more shooting behind them. But she didn't care. Ross was alive. All was not lost.

'Must be killing more of the worms,' Hackett hissed. 'The bastards probably think they've eaten us.' He reached out for Ross. 'Torino said they'd eaten you. I can't believe you're alive. What happened?'

'Yes,' said Zeb. 'I thought--'

Ross put his fingers to his lips and resumed chanting. Then he pointed into the gloom. On each side of the dark passageway there were even darker fissures and side passages. Red eyes watched as they passed and Sister Chantal could almost hear the creatures breathing. The others might be desperate to know what had happened to him, but she felt no need for questions. Somehow the Source had saved him and that was enough for her.

His miraculous resurrection was a sign from God that she could still fulfil her sacred oath. She clutched the crucifix Father Orlando had given her and smiled at the demons in the dark.

Do the dead dream? Do they have thoughts and feel emotion? mused Ross, as he continued to chant and led the others down the dark passages to the antechamber.

They must, he concluded, as his mind drifted back to the Source, to when he had died and looked down upon his body . . .

He feels no pain or grief as, from above, he watches the nymphs stripoff his clothes and lower his naked body into the small pool beneath themonolith and the hydra. He floats in the mineral-rich water, like abather in the Dead Sea, as the bullet wound on his chest and the largerexit wound on his back bloom rose-red in the milky water.

The nymphs, at least twenty, form a semicircle round the monolith,as though in worship. Some of its facets remind Ross of the metallic,phosphorous-rich Schreibersite meteor-stone he gave Lauren after hislast trip to Uzbekistan - but every other aspect of it is unique, unlikeanything he has seen in all his years of geology.

The nymphs begin a new chant, high and pure, which makes themonolith vibrate. Then a small section of its crust cracks and shears offto reveal clear crystal, which quickly clouds, like metal oxidizing. As thesegment falls into the pool and breaks into perfectly regular shapes thenymphs step back. The water fizzes and bubbles like a witch's potionand, as Ross's head sinks below the surface, his perspective changes. Heis no longer in the chamber looking down on himself: he is staring outat an endless horizon, unlimited by space or time. He had read oncethat a dying man's life flashes before him in his last moments, but inthis instance the curtain of time draws back and the history of all lifeflashes before him. He sees everything - from the birth of the planet 4.5billion years ago to the present - with godlike intuition.

He can see hundreds and thousands of meteorites raining down fromthe heavens, scarring and deforming the Earth's barren crust. Until oneseminal meteorite with exactly the right amalgam of amino acids hitsa section of crust containing the perfect complementary mix of chemicals,heat and water. The massive energy generated by this uniquemarriage of amino-acid-rich meteorite and receptive Mother Earthfuses the donor amino acids into peptides - only a step away from lifegivingproteins - and creates a miraculous progeny: the monolith.

They say that water plus chemistry equals biology. In this instance,water catalyses the monolith's life-giving properties, seeding bacteria,germinating the hydra, and helping spread the spores of life across theglobe. He sees the hydra begin as a single-cell bacterium then evolve toencompass all life forms - fauna, flora and mineral - in one organism,in one epic lifetime. He now understands why Father Orlando calledit the Tree of Life and Death: it embodies every facet of existence.

He witnesses the moment, millions of years ago, when the Source andits garden are eventually cordoned off by lava and sealed in volcanicrock. By then, however, the genie has escaped from the bottle. The lastoutpost to benefit directly from - and need - the Source's miraculouspower is the fountain in the doomed lost city. All other life on earth haslong since learnt to adapt outside its orbit, upgrading its originalgenetic instructions to the more self-sufficient DNA. Only the gardenand its inhabitants now depend on the Source's concentrated life forceto survive.

Time rushes forward to Pizarro's conquest of Peru half a millenniumago. Ross sees the conquistadors and the Church lay claim and waste tothe jungle and its inhabitants, exploiting what they can. Then hewitnesses the loggers and the oil companies follow in their destructivefootsteps. When Ross considers how he has served the oil companies,without thinking or caring about the consequences to the planet, overwhelmingshame washes through him.

So this is what happens when you die, he thinks. There's no God orDevil, no Heaven or Hell, only a final reckoning with your conscience,when all lies are stripped away and you feel the collective pain of allthose you've wronged and the collective joy of those you've helped.

Suddenly the nymph with red flowers in its hair appears before him,stroking its distended abdomen. It begins to speak in a disconcertinglyfamiliar voice, listing Ross's actions, good and bad, as if it knows hisinnermost thoughts and motives. As it recounts his balance sheet ofdeeds, the nymph morphs into his wife. Lauren stands before him,naked, beautiful, stroking her pregnant belly.

'Are we dead?' he asks.

With a heartbreaking smile, she tells him that deeds are everythingand that he can still make amends for any wrongdoing.

'How? What do you want me to do?'

'I love you, Ross, and I know you love me, but there's something youmust promise me you'll do.'

When she tells him he begins to cry. 'But I can't do that.'

'You can, Ross, and you must. This is important. Promise me.'

He tries to argue with her but it makes no difference. Deep down,after self-interest and self-delusion have been stripped away, he knowshe has no choice. 'I promise,' he says.

Suddenly he's choking. He can't breathe. A wave of panic rushesthrough him. He tries to open his eyes but they sting as though bathedin acid. A reflex makes him swallow. He retches and sits upright, gaspingfor air. He opens his eyes again and the stinging is gone. He issitting in the pool in the middle of the chamber. And he is alone.

He looks up at the looming hydra and crystalline monolith, thendown at the pool. There is a strong mineral taste in his mouth. Thewater is less cloudy than before, almost clear, and it is no longerbubbling. He has no idea how long he has been lying there but as helooks down at his chest he knows one thing with cold certainty: he is nolonger dead. Or dying.

He feels his chest, unable to find any trace of where the bullet enteredhis body, pierced his heart and exited his back. Sister Chantal claims tohave subsisted for centuries by visiting the garden's lake, and takingaway crystals from the tunnel. These by-products of the Source havelimits, though: Weber died, even though he was immersed in the lake.Ross, though, has supped directly from the source of life. It has broughthim back from death. He is sure of it.

He stands up, as naked as the day he was born, and climbs out ofthe pool. Studying where the water flows into the chamber, his cavingexperience tells him it will lead eventually to the surface. His clothes liebeside the pool and he can see samples of healing crystals everywhere.Though inferior to the Source, they appear brighter than those in thetunnel, which Sister Chantal is confident can cure Lauren. He caneasily take one, climb out and escape. Within weeks he will be atLauren's side with the means to save her and their child. He can haveeverything he wants, everything he dreamed of when he embarked onthis insane quest . . .

Nevertheless, as Ross emerged with the others from the dark passageway into the relative light of the caves behind the ante- chamber, he knew he had received the gift of life so that he could fulfil the vow he had made to Lauren when he had died - if that was what had happened to him. Even if it had been only his conscience speaking, he knew that his vow reflected Lauren's thoughts and desires. He stopped chanting and Zeb touched him as if to check he was real. 'What happened to you?' she whispered. He heard the awe in her voice. 'The Superior General told us Marco shot you through the heart.'

'He did.'

'He said you were dead,' she said.

'I was.'

'I don't understand,' said Hackett. 'They said the nymphs fed you to the worms.'

Ross pointed to the white shapes flitting in the shadows. 'They took me to the Source.'

Sister Chantal smiled. 'It brought you back.'

'Yes.' As Ross led them to the antechamber he explained all that had happened to him. 'When Torino entered the chamber I slipped out of the back exit into the dark passageways, which eventually led to you.'

There was a pause, then Hackett said, 'You could have escaped. You could have got out and saved your wife. Why didn't you?'

'Too much unfinished business here.'

'But you could have cured Lauren,' said Sister Chantal. She sounded angry. 'That was why I brought you here. So she could be the new Keeper.'

'The Keeper of what?' said Ross. 'By the time I got to Lauren's bedside, the Superior General would have killed all of you and gained control of the Source.' He turned in the gloom and put his face near the nun's. 'And he'd have destroyed the garden. Wiped it off the face of the Earth.'

'What?' said Sister Chantal, horrified. 'He wouldn't do that.'

'Why not? You yourself said it embarrassed the Church, raised too many questions. The point is, Lauren would never forgive me for letting that happen. I led Torino here. I'm responsible. I must stop him.'

'You sure he's going to destroy the garden?' said Zeb.

'Not just the garden. Every living thing, except the Source. Those yellow parcels the soldiers brought are incendiary devices - firebombs. I've seen stuff like that used to clear ground for oil exploration.'

Hackett frowned as they passed the ledge by the magma pool and the broken bridge. 'I can see how he might napalm the garden and kill everything in it. But how's he going to kill the nymphs and rock worms - and those?' He pointed at the tubular tentacles running along the walls.

'His soldiers just need to place a few incendiary devices throughout the tunnels. Thermite generates huge temperatures - over a thousand degrees - and in these confined spaces a fireball would destroy everything. Now they've thinned out the worms they could conceivably get close enough to do the same thing with them. The Source would be untouched but everything else would be purged.'

Sister Chantal shuddered. 'So what do we do?' she said.

He smiled at her. 'It's time to stop being the passive Keeper of the Garden and waiting for the cavalry to come. We are the cavalry. It's up to us to stop Torino abusing this place - particularly the Source.' He turned to Hackett and Zeb. 'What about you guys? I know it's not really your fight--'

'Bollocks,' said Hackett. 'Of course it's my bloody fight. I'm not letting some arrogant priest control what I saw up there. Count me in.'

'Me too,' said Zeb. 'You're not having all the fun, Ross, just because you finally jumped on the conservation bandwagon. I've always been on it.'