The Secret of the Ancient Alchemist (39 page)

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Authors: Yasmin Esack

Tags: #metaphysical fiction, #metaphysical adventure, #metaphysical mystery, #metaphysical visionary theology sprititual, #metaphysical supernatural fiction, #metaphysical thriller fiction, #spiritual adventure fiction, #spiritual mystery fiction

BOOK: The Secret of the Ancient Alchemist
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I have
to say La Croix was an unusual man. I can feel his spirit. It’s as
though he’s still here,” Santiago remarked.


I have
said many times Francis was not a normal person. He was passionate
about life and, to be honest, he shut me out of his.”


Must’ve
been tough?”


It was.
I want to thank you for caring so much.”

As Mandy turned
to open a drawer, she stopped. “Are you alright, Santiago?”


Just a
little dizzy, that’s all.”


Let’s
get out of here. You should sit.”

It wasn’t long
before she handed him a cup of hot tea. “It’s all the tremors,
isn’t it?”


So much
is happening in this city, I wish they would go away.”


It’s
occurring all over the world.”


I
know.”


Have you
spoken to Josh?”

Santiago
sighed. “Right now, we need a miracle.”

Mandy paused
for a moment of thought.


What are
you thinking?” Santiago wondered.


I’m
thinking about Francis. He would often say strange
things.”


Like?”


He spoke
a lot about a new dawn.”

Santiago placed
his teacup down. “He did?”


He even
drew it in a painting.”

The mayor’s
face tightened as he got up. “Where’s the painting?” he shouted.
“Where’s The Dawning?”

Mandy felt a
huge jolt of shock. A woman wise to the way of men, she began to
explore the reason behind Santiago’s interest in her. It shattered
her to think it was nothing more than a painting. Tears filled her
eyes.


I’m
sorry,” Santiago quickly blurted. “Forgive me, my dear.”


I don’t
have the painting anyway. I’ve never seen it. Francis gave it to
Julius Olsen.” There was a heavy rap on the door. “That must be Mr.
De La Rue,” she said, getting up.

Outside, Carl
Reinholdt stood sweating. “Look, I need to talk to both of you
now.”

Twenty minutes
later, Santiago walked hurriedly along Greenwich Street searching
for his son, Alejandro. He didn’t get beyond the steps of the newly
constructed conservatory when a tremor came.


Dear God
help us,” he pleaded.

Beneath
Ferelli’s feet, the pavement was cracking and ahead, buildings
shook. People ran from offices, subway stations and just about
everywhere looking for open ground. Red Alert flashed on neon
signs. Paper, boxes and attaché cases were strewn on the streets,
abandoned by many in a rush for cover. From where he stood,
Santiago could see the magnificence of New York’s new conservatory.
Its tall and imposing columns stood firm as did its delicate
chandelier. Alejandro Ferelli’s version of the Hallelujah Chorus
poured out from the hall as if seeking mercy from the heavens.

Now, a crashing
sound came through the air. The splinters of the shattered
chandelier flew everywhere. The tremor shook the conservatory and
sent patrons, musicians and the crème de la crème of New York City
scampering in all directions. Screams of horror pierced the air and
cars screeched to a halt to avoid crowds on the streets. Ambulances
and fire tenders tried hard to get through the mayhem. Some people
were succumbing to heart attacks.

Then, the
lights went out. Santiago dialled Marin’s number.

Chapter 89

 

 

Marrin
eyed the message on his phone.
Urgent, answer the phone, urgent answer
the phone
. From a podium
in the Whitehouse pressroom, he could hear his name resonating in a
whirlwind of voices.


Dr.
Marin? Dr. Marin?”

Microphones
were inches from his face. Overhead, security helicopter blades
whirred. To his left, scenes of devastation in France and Egypt
pulsated from a satellite feed. The Louvre’s Medieval Base of the
Dungeon had caved in and pieces of ancient statues could be seen on
the floor.

Marin
turned to avoid the blinding flash from the many cameras. Through
his semi-blindness, he caught sight of another message. This one
read:
Seismic reversal in effect.

He grabbed his
phone. “Thompson?” he shouted.


Something strange is happening, Marin.” Thompson was
staring at data in his Bronx office.


Whad’you
talking about?”


Looks
like seismic…” The man went silent.


Thompson!” Marin yelled again.


It looks
like seismic activity is subsiding across the globe. Like hell,
tremors are receding.”


You’re
crazy. We just had one.”


And, it
may be the last. There’s seismic quiescence over large areas of the
globe.”


You’re
sure about the stress drop?”


I am.
The reversal’s significant. Something like this happened in Taiwan.
Areas of high seismic activity had gone into reversal.”

Elated
but confused, Marin stared at the marble floor. Tom Hart’s words
bounced back to him.
You’re going to see change, Josh
. Sweat ran down his face as he placed his
phone away and straightened up.


Tell us
something!” An ABC reporter shouted.


Seismic
readings taken a while ago suggest a reversal in seismic
activity.”


You’re
saying the activity is dissipating?”


Dr.
Marin, is this permanent?” someone yelled from the back.


Maybe.”


What
advice would you offer at this stage?”

Marin looked
across the room and caught sight of Secretary Allan Reisberg
squabbling over something with National Security Advisor, Ben
Steinman, and two members of the Senate Foreign Relations
Committee. Three feet from Reisberg, six world leaders sat. The
Palestinian Head of State, Hamza Al Baig, adjusted his checkered
kufiya, waiting on him to speak again but he fretted as he searched
for words to say.


Our
economy is awaiting your answer, Dr. Marin,” the Egyptian President
shouted.


We need
to find Olsen’s date,” he said finally. “I…I think there’s a new
age.”

A barrage of
reporters rushed forward but Marin ducked out and ran to the
Stratellite.

Twenty minutes
later, he pushed open the door of his Bronx office. His assistant,
Ted Thompson, hurried towards him.


You
gotta look at this, Marin.”


Alaska?”
he asked taking a seat at the monitor.


Alaska,
Marin. I want you to take a good look."

Alaska was an
earthquake prone state that experienced level 7 earthquakes every
year. It was the home of TAPS, the Trans-Alaska Pipeline System
that ran for eight hundred miles. If seismic activity in this area
was lessening, it would be an indicator of change worldwide.


We
updated the VS server mapping for this area and the Mid Atlantic as
well. Zoom in on Prince William Sound. Check out Cook Inlet,
Marin.”


Twenty
earthquakes are usually reported each day in that area.”


Have a
look now.”


The
number’s down.”


To five,
Marin. Now, I want you to look at something else. Click on the Mid
Atlantic Ridge.”

Marin was
staring at the longest ridge in the world. “It surprises everyone
that this is actually under the sea.”


It’s
eight thousand feet below and ten thousand miles long. Iceland sits
on this ridge. Bermuda as well.”


It’s the
world’s third most active earthquake zone.”


Sea
floor spread is high here, as much as four inches annually because
of molten magma coming from a plate boundary.”


The
ridge is known to separate the North and South American plates from
the Eurasian and African plates. See what I seeing,
Marin?”


Sea
floor spread is lessening, but, we can’t confirm anything unless we
monitor the area for a few months.”


You’re a
regular killjoy. We’ve been waiting years for this.”

Marin’s phone
rang. It was Riley, the UN consultant on Climate Change and a man
deeply worried about the state of the earth.


What’s
going on?” he asked.


Seismic
activity is lessening worldwide.”


That’s
damn good news. Is it permanent?”


Only Olsen’s data can say, Ron.” Marin ended the call and
dialled Pearce’s number.

Chapter 90

 

 

Sitting in
Steffi’s living room on La Joya island, Pearce grabbed his ringing
phone.


Hello?”


Hey, did
you find Olsen’s data?” Marin asked.


I’m on
my way to SARDS. Keep your fingers crossed. It might be there.” He
shut his phone and turned to Steffi. “Why’re you glum? I don’t
understand you. This is the most important day of my life. It was
quite a deal getting a pass to SARDS. My flight to Colombia leaves
at 8PM.”

But, Steffi’s
sixth sense was rising. She couldn’t shake off her dark mood.


I know
that, Tim, but, I wish you’d listen to me a bit before you
go.”


Okay,
tell me.”


Mary
Findley is dead.”

Pearce’s face
drained of blood. “Mary? I…I know it’s G. W. Foster and the
Brotherhood. I know it’s them. They like getting everybody out of
the way. Bentley and Olsen weren’t enough.”

Steffi’s
tried to say
even yo
u but
Pearce had pressed on.


Problem
is, how would we prove any of it? We have to prove Foster killed
them all. I think I…”

Bang! A shot
came before he could finish his sentence. Then, another as he
pulled Steffi to the ground.

Silence
came.

A few seconds
later Steffi felt the warmth of blood. She scrambled to her feet
and stared speechless as Pearce lay dying on the ground. Blood
gushed from a wound in his neck and his eyes stared back
lifeless.


My God!”
she shouted frantically. “My God!” she cried again. Steffi was
shocked, confused and helpless.


We need
an ambulance. He's real bad.” It was a voice Steffi recognized.
“Hurry!” Her neighbour screamed at her.

She dialled as
fast as she could. An ambulance stopped at her door five minutes
later. In the emergency room of La Joya’s General Hospital, she
watched in fear as an attendant slammed a respirator on Pearce’s
face. Someone jammed an injection into him. A maddening haste to
stop the blood flow that leaked all the way to the floor and Pearce
was on his way to the operating theatre. She felt dizzy and sought
comfort by sinking into a leather sofa in the waiting room.


You need
to dress that,” her neighbour said mopping the blood from the wound
on her forehead. “Here, take these.” He handed her two painkillers
and a small cup of water.


Did you
see who did this?” she asked swallowing.


No,
Steffi. No one.”

The two sat in
silence waiting. It was another hour before a doctor appeared.


He
should pull through but, it's pretty bad.”


Can we
see him?”


No
visits are allowed. You need to come with me, ma’am. This way,” he
said leading Steffi to a small treatment room. The astringent he
rubbed on her head felt like fire in hell.

Ten minutes
later, they were outside the hospital. A blast of hot air struck
their faces.


There’s
nothing more we can do at this point, Steffi. Let’s go
home.”


Thanks
Alex. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”


You need
rest. That gash on your head looks bad.”

Back at her
home, he helped her to bed. The man’s gentle touch on her cheek was
the last she remembered of anything before she fell asleep.

8.30am next
day, a hallow pain stabbed Steffi as she opened her eyes to the
reminder of her past day. She groped for her bathrobe and walked
outside half dazed. Unfocused, she stumbled into Alex’s body.


Sorry,”
she managed to say as she plunged into a chair, weak with
emotion.

Alex handed her
a cup of coffee. “I’m really sorry about Pearce.”


I want
to see him.”


You
can't, not for a few days.”

Steffi
struggled hard to hold back her tears, feeling worse than ever.
Pearce’s pleading words to her at La Joya’s General Hospital came
back to her.
Get to SARDS
he
had begged in agony. Steffi straightened up finally finding her
voice.


I’m going to Colombia, Alex.”

Chapter 91

 

 

The Sierra
Nevada de Santa Marta in Colombia was the land of gods, Steffi
thought. Its ice-capped mountains and deep valleys ran to the
waters of the Atlantic coast, guarding the spirits of a forgotten
past. At a corner of a roadway, she waited on a car to take her to
SARDS, the South American Research and Development Station.

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