Ancient Echoes (38 page)

Earlier, after breakfast, Kohler stood and spoke to the
group. “I know the interest some of you have in the ancient book of alchemy
found here.”

At their stunned look, he said, “Yes, we have found the
ancient book of alchemy, but reading it is impossible for us.”
His gaze pin-pointed Lionel and Michael.
“Yet, all of us
believe it holds the key to our escape from this place. Since Miss Charlotte
Reed is a student of Egypt where much of the information from the book stems,
and Professor Lionel Rempart also has studied this area, Mr. Olgerbee will
allow the two of you to study the book. We will watch and protect you as you go
to the pillars each day and attempt to open the gateway. May the Almighty God
guide your endeavors and bring you to success.”

Shortly afterward, Olgerbee and Sam Black escorted them to
the pillars and stood guard as they attempted to open the gateway.

Lionel looked around nervously. He didn’t like the way
Olgerbee glared at him. He leaned toward Charlotte and whispered, “If these
people are depending on me to get us out of here, we’re in big trouble. You’ve
got to come up with a way, Charlotte. Tell me the hieroglyphs on the pillars
say how to open them so we can all go home again.”

“I know
how
one reads hieroglyphics, but that doesn’t
mean I’ve memorized all the combinations of symbols and their meanings,”
Charlotte said. “To read them, I need reference books and dictionaries.”

A large bat-like creature jerkily flapping its wings swooped
down over Lionel’s head. Lionel ducked and Sam Black let loose an arrow that
struck the strange bat. Lionel stood stock still, petrified, as the creature flew
off with the arrow protruding.

“Well, I’m afraid we don’t have any Egyptian dictionaries,”
Lionel said, more nervous than ever. “You’ll have to figure it out without
them. I need you to do it quickly.”

The appearance of the winged creature so stunned Charlotte,
it took a long moment for Lionel’s words to penetrate. “I doubt what’s up there
explains much of anything,” she murmured. “Something about them handing over
this book so easily makes me wary. And don’t forget those mercenaries, whoever
they are, who shot at Michael and Quade. I suspect they’re here for the book as
well.”

“Whatever we do,” Lionel said, his face rigid with
determination, “When we find our way back,
The
Book of Abraham the
Jew
goes with us.”

New York City

JIANJUN AROSE AND dressed early. He
found Phaylor’s house far too creepy. Calvin Phaylor ranked up there on the
creepy scale, too. The guy looked like a cadaver on wheels.

Jianjun refused the huge breakfast, settling for tea and
toast,
then
set up his computer.

He found that hacking into Phaylor’s computer security
system was child’s play. Phaylor’s bank and credit card data provided a
plethora of information about his activities over the past few years. Two of
the findings surprised Jianjun.

First, four satellite phones, all with New York City
prefixes, regularly contacted Phaylor. Jianjun couldn’t tell where the calls
originated, but satellite phones only made sense in remote locations. He
suspected Phaylor had bought and given out the phones.

Second, the recent murders of the curator of Paris’ Cluny
museum, and in Jerusalem, of a security guard, a paid assassin, and a scholar
of ancient Egypt, all interested Phaylor. He had also queried the name Laurence
Esterbridge several times without success. Jianjun’s heart practically stopped
when he learned that the Israelis were looking for an American woman named
Charlotte Reed in connection with the murders.

She was the woman Michael asked him to check on! A security
camera had caught her driving away in the dead scholar’s car. Who in the heck
was she? Was she a killer, out there with Michael?

He dived into his computer to search for more information on
her. Her Virginia home had been fire-bombed some days earlier. Despite both the
Virginia and Israeli police trying to find her, she had not been located.
Reports speculated that she torched her home to destroy evidence of her
wrong-doings, and went into hiding. The only other information Jianjun found
about her was a marriage record between her and someone named Dennis Levine.
When he searched for information on Levine, he found he was a State Department
employee who died in a terrorist attack in Jerusalem some thirteen years
earlier. The date struck Jianjun. A lot seemed to have happened between
thirteen and fifteen years ago. This background made him think she wasn’t the
crazed murderer the press made her out to be. In fact, she might have been a
victim.

What did it all mean, and why did Calvin Phaylor care?

After having learned so much about Charlotte Reed, he
searched for more information on the other person Michael had mentioned, Simon
Quade. When his usual personal data searches yielded not so much as a birth
certificate, he went into the CIA’s data base. After coming up with nothing, he
tried their human resources. Consultants usually had some fingerprint there,
even if only a 1099 or other IRS
form
. Strangely, he
found nothing at all. The name had to be phony, which made Jianjun more curious
than ever. But without more information, he was at a standstill.

Searching for six men lost in Idaho some twelve or thirteen
years earlier turned up only rumors and denials of same. Everyone involved
agreed that six paramilitary types went through the area. He had names starting
with their leader, Thaddeus Kohler, and found evidence of the men’s existences
before they went to Idaho, but nothing afterward.
As one
local said when asked if he thought they had disappeared in the wilderness, “Of
course not.
They left, that’s all. They weren’t exactly the type to drop
in to say ‘so long.’”
Another standstill.

The men could be dead, but he found no evidence of that—not
even death certificates or insurance payouts. Their families all refused to say
anything about the men, which made Jianjun immediately suspect that someone had
paid for their silence.

Something was seriously amiss.

He then turned to his cell phone to see what information the
spy monitor had picked up on Vandenburg. He found a long list of phone calls,
but a quick check revealed all to be work or home related.

He turned back to Calvin Phaylor’s files but, again, nothing
new jumped out at him.

Time to go to Idaho, he thought, even though he hadn’t yet
figured out what he would do once he got there. Also, he had grown increasingly
nervous about Michael. The news reported that the sheriff went on a “secret
mission” to try to find the students. This happened right after authorities
pulled the body of student Brian Cutter from a river. Few believed the “secret
mission” story, which caused speculation that whoever killed the student had murdered
the sheriff, or that the sheriff himself wiped out the entire university group
and fled after one of the bodies turned up.

Jianjun didn’t know what to think, but Michael had been with
that sheriff, and now he could no longer be reached.

New York City

“I WANT TO GO home, Mommy. Take me
with you, please!” As Vandenburg stood to leave, Felicity's small, clawlike
hand grasped hers, her grip amazingly strong. “I hate it here. I want to go
back to my own room. Please, Mommy!”

“I'll see what I can do.” She kissed her daughter's forehead
and yanked her hand free,
then
she turned and hurried
from the room with a quick goodbye to Kay. Felicity’s kidneys were shutting
down. If the girl went home now, she would be back in a day anyway. The fools
of doctors said the end was near. Vandenburg refused to allow it.

Outside the hospital, her limo waited.

She gave an Upper East Side address, and the housekeeper
showed her to the living room of what had been one of the most beautiful homes
in New York City, but now appeared old and neglected. Just like Calvin Phaylor,
she thought.

Phaylor entered, his wheelchair pushed by his male nurse.

“Hello, Calvin.” Vandenburg smiled sweetly. “Good to see
you.”

“No, it's not, and you and I both know it. Where are your
new products? You can't ride on old ones forever, you know. What's wrong with
you people? Have you no talent left in the firm? No imagination? Don't think
you can make my company fail, not while I'm alive!” The nurse handed him the
oxygen mask, then left the room. Phaylor breathed deeply.

“We're doing all we can to protect all you created. But
that's not why I'm here.” Vandenburg paused a moment. She felt pressure build
behind her eyes, and turned her head so he wouldn’t notice if she lost the
fight with tears. She worked to control her voice. “My daughter doesn’t have
much time left. My people in Idaho are still missing. It’s long past time for
you to tell me everything. I need to find the book that tells how to create the
philosopher’s stone and use it before it’s too late!”

He gave a snort of derision.

“I’ve toyed with going to Idaho myself, even announcing to
the world what we’re looking for, and how much I’ll pay to whoever delivers
The
Book of Abraham the Jew
to me. How does one billion dollars sound? People
will laugh, until I succeed. With this, Felicity will live. It’s her only
chance.
Her last chance!”

“How touching.” His insincerity reeked. “You’re damn right
people will laugh. Even more will laugh as the board of directors carts you off
to an insane asylum.” He eyed her with contempt. “It’s not your money. Wasn’t
even mine, as I found out. And if by some crazy circumstance, you did find the
book, the government would step in and take it from you.”

“No, they won’t! I'm going to find it,” she said.
“One way or another.
I came to you for advice, but if you
have none—”

“Oh, I have advice, all right. Allow your daughter to die in
peace.”

Jennifer stared at him, hate filling every pore.
“Never.”

“I tried to find the secret of alchemy for myself.” He
wheeled himself to the bar and poured
a Macallan
single scotch malt. She refused a glass.

“I was one of the five richest men in America, and I was
getting old and sick. This would be a way to beat death, or so, I thought.” He
sipped the scotch, smacking his lips with pleasure. “I threw all my money,
time, and effort in it, and my reward was to be kicked out of my own company
before I destroyed it. And I would have. What's a mere company compared to
immortality?”

“My plan will save people from pain and suffering,” she
said. “But they’re going to have to pay for it. We can’t solve the problem of
death only to have people starve from overpopulation. Only certain people, the
right people, will have access to my elixir for immortality. And I’ll be the one
to decide who that is.”

He chuckled, but just as quickly his smile vanished. “You
think knowledge from the book is what you want. But it won't work. It'll drive
you mad, and destroy everything around you.”

“Come with me to Idaho,” she said. “You know where the
pillars are. We can find them. We’ll bring Michael Rempart’s assistant with us.
I’m sure he knows a lot more about all this than he’ll admit. Plus, most
importantly, I’ll bring my daughter.”

Phaylor just stared as her.

“Together, we’ll get the book ourselves!” she continued.
“We’re waiting for people to return to us with the book, but we don’t know what
they’ve found out there. What if they not only found the book, but have learned
how to use it? What if they’re stealing it from us? We can’t wait! We’ve got to
go out there and see for ourselves. You’ve always wanted to be immortal. Show
me the way.”

“Why should I do anything for you?” His eyes were flat and
cold, his skin wrinkled as a lizard's. “And as for your daughter, do I look
like someone who gives a damn?”

Her body stiffened with outrage. She would make him pay for
those words. She realized how frail he was, how little effort it would take to
squeeze the life from his skinny neck. She reined in her anger as a better plan
began to form.

She strode out of the living room, but before leaving glared
back at Phaylor. “I look forward to the day when you do the world a favor and
die.”

The nurse, who had been seated in the hallway by the
elevator, didn't look surprised at her anger. She guessed the old man treated
all his guests equally graciously.

The open elevator waited for her.

As soon as she got off on the ground floor, she phoned her
first vice president, Milt Zonovich. “Milt, I'll need the company jet to fly me
to Sun Valley, Idaho, as soon as possible. And get a helicopter ready to meet
me there.
One big enough for a hospital bed.”

MICHAEL DIDN’T GO TO the stables to
bed down when the other men did. Instead he stood at the fence around the sheep
and goats, his foot on the bottom rung, and thought of the young people, the
students, caught up in this madness, the dangers not only from the chimeras,
but also from the village men.

The village men had taken their guns and rifles away. Now,
he understood why. If they had them, they would be tempted to use them on
Kohler or anyone else who threatened the students. Too many of these kids had
already died.

Michael tried not to think about that, and not to think
about the strange history Quade relayed of his ancestors.
Psychics
and alchemists?
Charlatans were more likely, and yet, he had known and
seen things that this world had no answer for. If he had such abilities where
had they come from if not his forefathers?