The Secret of the Ancient Alchemist (30 page)

Lengard sighed.
“Carla, please call the Smithsonian Institute and ask for Jonathan
Bradshaw. He’s the Chief Botanist there. I would definitely need
his opinion on the papyrus fibres.”

“
Have you
started the translation of the pages?”

“
No, I
need to speak with Bradshaw first.”

“
Alright,
I’ll call him in a minute, love.”

“
Call him now, Carla, now!”

Chapter 66

“
Let’s
meet for lunch, say in about an hour.” Olsen was on the phone to
his girlfriend, Myrtle Foster.

“
Same
place?” she asked.

“
Yeah.
I’ll be there waiting.”

It was 11.45AM
in California and Olsen’s hunger was starting to stir. An array of
fast food was just a block away but it wasn’t much of an option for
him. He didn’t like fast food much and hated standing in lines. The
things that he missed were Danish coffee houses that served real
pastry and recognition from people he knew. He avoided shopping and
kept the few things he had carefully.

It was at a
mall purchasing a pizza that he had met Myrtle Foster. Standing
behind him with her purse open, she had dropped credit cards and
dollar bills all over the floor. Spoilt and aimless were words that
fitted her description he had thought that January day one year ago
when he had stooped down to pick her stuff up. Now, he loved her
and longed for the sound of her voice and antics that were girlish
and sweet.

It was a while
since they met. Olsen was too absorbed in his work. Now, he needed
to speak to her.

A dash to the
shower and, donning his usual shorts and t-shirt, he headed to a
flower shop. A bunch of pink roses wrapped in Baby’s Breath caught
his eye. It seemed right for her.

“
Will
that be all? Sure you don’t want something more? White Lilies
perhaps? We have Azaleas and yellow Vandas,” the sales woman
prodded.

“
This is
fine, thanks.”

With a sway of
his credit card and forty dollars less, Olsen bolted to his car. A
flick of the switch and he was on his way to Santa Monica.

The highway was
his place to think. Alone with his thoughts, he began to feel
positive about his life ahead. Though he had spent most of his
savings, including the money he inherited from his late mother on
his condo, he wasn’t poor and the on-going frustration he felt from
being unemployed was starting to lift. Olsen had gotten a job.

To many, he was
nothing but a scientific obscurity. He had never forgotten the new
comer to Science from Sardinia who had described him as peculiar.
It was, of course, a reference to his work on Inca prophecy. The
reality of all that didn’t hurt. It was how little they cared for
the world. A proponent of Quantum Physics, Olsen believed that
science and spirituality were one and the same, that life was no
more than a flash in universal time, an illusion for humans to
experience. Instead they conquered and destroyed, spurred on by
greed and ego. Humans lived in a physical world that was sputtering
and choking to a bitter end. The compulsion to end the suffering
could never escape him.

He drove at a
steady pace along the Pacific Coast headed to his favourite
restaurant. In the English Manor, he sat alone gazing at cars and
folks who wore their wealth well. His natural European reserve
didn’t allow him to be friendly like most Americans. He came from a
small Danish village called Kerteminde and, for many years, led a
quiet, simple life.

“
Uh…Just
a coke for now, thanks,” he said to a waiter who appeared. “I’m
expecting someone.”

Through the
window of the quaint restaurant, he could see the black Cadillac as
it made its way to the parking lot and the face of the young woman
who drove it. Myrtle tugged at her skirt as she came out the car
and shut the door. Fussing with her hair, she walked briskly to the
restaurant. She smiled broadly as she approached Olsen.

“
Hi. Hope
I’m not late. I drove as fast as I could.” She kissed his
cheek.

“
Sit
here,” Olsen beckoned, pulling a chair out for her. “Hope you like
these. They remind me of you.”

“
Flowers,
how lovely.”

As she sat, he
stared at her. The pink silk blouse she wore matched her tan and
dark brown hair perfectly. She looked more beautiful than ever, he
thought.

“
I have
something to tell you,” he said.

“
What?”
Myrtle’s face paled. “You’re not leaving to go somewhere are
you?”

He laughed.
“Don’t be silly. I got the job at NASA, the one job I was hoping
for. I’m going to be attached to the Jupiter Mission.”

“
You did?
That’s wonderful! We can get married now, can’t we?” her eyes
pleaded.

“
It’s
what I want, you know that.”

“
I’m so
happy!” She grabbed his slender hands. Truly, she wanted to bury
her head in his chest. She desperately wanted to hold
him.

“
But,
first,” he began.

“
First?
What d’you mean?”

Olsen angled
his body closer to hers. “Look, I…” The words he needed failed him.
As much as he wanted to explain things, he knew she wouldn’t
understand. “I have a couple of things to do, that’s all,” he said
instead.

“
Like
what?”

“
I have
to go to Colombia, to SARDS, to return an archaeological
artefact.”

“
SARDS?
What’s that?”

“
A
research station and then, to La Joya Island for a
while.”

“
Where’s
that?”

“
In the
Caribbean. Plundered by pirates, I’m told.”

“
Sounds
spooky. Are you coming back?”

“
Of
course. Tell you what, why don’t …”

He didn’t
finish his sentence. They both looked up startled by a waiter.

“
Would
you care to order now?” he asked.

“
Let’s
celebrate,” Myrtle blurted. Her joyful mood caught the eyes of
those around but it didn’t matter to her.

“
Your
treat? Well, well.”

“
Order
anything.”

“
Hmm,
let’s see, a bottle of the finest champagne and some spicy lobster
crepes. Let’s throw in a couple of Banana Flambeaux.”

“
Sure.”

Olsen grinned.
“I’m just kidding. A steak and salad would be fine.”

“
Same for
me.”

“
So,
that’s two steaks, two salads and two sodas,” the waiter said as he
wrote the order down.

“
Yes,
thanks.” Olsen handed back the menu card as Myrtle grabbed his
hands. “When do you start your new job?”

“
In a
couple of weeks.”

“
I’m so
proud of you. So, I guess you’ll be busy now with all that new
responsibility?”

“
At first
but once I get a hold on things, everything will be fine for us.
Don’t worry so much.” He touched her hair lightly. “I just need
some time to get stuff out of the way. Soon, we’ll be together,
forever.”

“
I truly
love you, Julius. You know that.”

Forty-five
minutes later, Olsen pushed his plate. He turned his thoughts to
Josh Marin. The seismologist had asked him to check a most recent
California seismic report. He had gone through it many times and
each time the results bounced back the same. The coming quake’s
epicentre would be Palm Springs. In forty seconds there would be
little left. But, there was also a good chance it wouldn’t happen.
Seismic reversal was not impossible.

“
What’s
wrong?” Myrtle enquired feeling a bit shut out.

“
Nothing’s wrong, love.” He held her hand. For all that
Olsen had achieved, he was a lonely person, shut from life’s norms,
finding no comfort in things most people did like partying. He was
glad she had come into his life. “So, how are you getting along
with your Mom these days? Does she still have plans to send you off
to Versailles?” Myrtle’s parents knew nothing of their daughter’s
relationship with Olsen.

“
I’m not
going there. Everything’s cool.”

“
Are you
certain you’re okay?” Myrtle’s weight loss hadn’t slipped
him.

“
Yes, of
course,” she lied staring at his deep set eyes and masses of curly
unkempt hair. She thought of how right he was for her. When she was
with him, she felt the rage in her soul lift. She felt lighter, her
burdens and demons gone. No one would understand, she knew.
“Julius, you’re super,” she said with more than usual
sincerity.

“
Let’s
take a walk,” Olsen suggested.

“
Where’re
we going?”

“
Just
follow me, will you?”

At a street
corner, Olsen peered into the window of Steigers and Baums,
Purveyors of the Finest Jewellery.

“
Let’s go
in.” he said. “Choose a ring you like.”

“
What?
Are you sure?”

“
I’m
sure.”

The array of
exquisite items and the rich scent of the room filled Myrtle’s
senses with joy.

“
There,”
she pointed minutes later, “that one.”

“
Try it
on, then.”

The blue
sapphire in diamonds on white gold looked perfect on her hand. Amid
the sounds of cash registers and security clicks, Myrtle Foster
could feel and taste the fairy tale future of her life. It was all
she ever wanted.

Twenty minutes
later, they walked to the car park arm in arm in a world that was
theirs alone, forgetting life’s trials and tribulations.

”
Let’s go to my place,” Olsen said.

Chapter 67

He started his
car and drove along Colorado Avenue. He soon passed the
hundred-year-old Santa Monica Pier headed to Route 1. Moving
through Laguna Hills, he arrived at his Lake Forest condo an hour
later. Olsen considered the Californian lifestyle an idyllic one.
The Pacific breezes and sun made it a healthy choice. Arm in arm,
they walked past the coral trees that lined the pathway to his back
door. A black cat that had found a home on his patio scuttled away
as they approached. It was 3.30PM and the afternoon sun blazed on
them.

“
It’s
cool inside,” he said opening the heavy oak door. “Come on
in.”

Myrtle sat on a
sofa gazing at Olsen’s décor. His books were laid on wooden
shelves. A map decorated one wall and another held the Quipu.

“
I love
this place. It’s so you but, what’s that?” she asked, astonished by
the Quipu, its worn strings of llama wool hanging from the
wall.

“
It’s an
Inca artefact.”

“
It sure
is strange.”

“
Let’s go
up to my room.”

The master
bedroom with its king-size bed was quite beckoning. Myrtle switched
the TV on and took her shoes off. She fluffed the pillows and made
herself comfortable as Olsen peeled his shirt off and lay next to
her. He pulled her close to his arms.

“
I love
you, Myrtle, “he said, caressing the strands of her hair. “How many
months is it now?”

“
Five.”

“
Already?
It doesn’t show.”

“
He’s
small I guess. So, what kind of wedding are we going to
have?”

Olsen hadn’t a
clue. “Anything you want.”

“
Hmm, I
have to think about it. But, I’m not fussy. All I want to be is
Mrs. Julius Olsen.”

He sighed. She
didn’t know anything of his previous marriage that ended after just
three months and he thought it better to say nothing. He had
married a journalist in Copenhagen called Steffi Larsen who was
different. She was headstrong and independent, qualities that
attracted him. He didn’t think she would want attention and a
comforting arm as Myrtle did. He totally misread her.

Olsen had met
her at the Copenhagen Summit of the Environment and had been swept
away. Steffi was created by the heavenly gods he had sworn. It was
in her stature, her smile and dark eyes that had stared through
him. That was many ago and he blamed himself for the break up.
Since then, he had put a cap on his intense nature. Now a different
man, he was looking forward to being a father and a having a quiet
life.

Chapter 68

He got up
and went downstairs, wishing he didn’t feel that anxious, and, as
he sat trying to be calm, a premonition of death hung. The feeling
of being spied on was something he hoped never to relive. Strands
of his curls fell across his face as he wondered what was
happening. He didn’t imagine it. Someone was following him. Could
something as Andean Christianity land him in trouble? He began to
worry about the Quipus Bentley had found, Quipus that supported
Blas Valera’s claim that Inca beliefs had some similarity to
Christianity and that Athualpa was a man of vision before the
Spanish came. Valera, who was born after the conquest, had obtained
the information from the
Amautas
and had recorded it. Valera’s father was Louis Valera, a
man who had accompanied the conqueror, Pizarro.

A noise
at the back door drew him. He looked through the window. The sight
of the black cat dispelled his deep-seated fear. It was the same
fear he felt when he had left the English Manor, turning in time to
see the well-built Caucasian staring at him. Olsen had stared back
at him until he finally disappeared among the many cars in the car
park. The real devastation had come when he had turned to a note on
his car window.
Stop your Quipu work or you wouldn’t live to see it
finished
, it
read.