Eden Relics (A Zac Woods novel #1): Author royalties for Cancer Research

by N Williams

  ‘That’s from the illustrious bard William Shakespeare, Mr Woods. I can relate to that. I have seen dreadful things, things that I could prevent or even cure if I was given more time.’

  ‘Profits of your chemistry business suffering, are they? This isn’t about some grand and lofty desire to do good for mankind. This is a selfish and desperate act. You don’t care who is hurt or killed as long you get your extra couple of years.’

  ‘Not at all, Mr Woods. In fact, the health food side of my empire is doing great business. But I’m not talking about a bottle or two of the old Doctor Feel-Good. If the genes of Adam and Eve could be analysed we might just be able to discover the original genes, untainted and unspoilt by thousands of years of reproduction. The perfect genes, free from death and disease. I’m not talking about just a few extra years, as you put it. I’m talking about anything up to a thousand extra years.’

  Zac laughed. ‘Look, I may not be educated to your level, Sir Eddie, but even I know that the DNA of everything eventually breaks down. I saw that in Jurassic Park. But even if you were able to synthesise enough of the stuff to make some everlasting elixir of life, the earth would run out of room after just a couple of generations.’

  ‘True, Mr Woods, if everyone was offered it.’

  ‘Ah, now I’m getting it,’ said Zac. ‘You’ll only offer it to the highest bidders. You’ll create a world in which only the rich can have long lives.’

  ‘Not the rich, Mr Woods. Just those who truly deserve it. Wouldn’t you like to see a world in which just the good and the great get to live to ripe old age?’

  ‘Like ethnic cleansing?’

  ‘That’s not what I’m talking about. Surely it’s better to have the chance to make our world a better place?’

  ‘I think a certain Austrian megalomaniac had a similar idea,’ Zac sniped.

  CHAPTER 52

  ‘The relics are perhaps the most important archaeological find in history, Mr Woods. Not only do they present us with the opportunity to gaze upon the faces of our common genetic mother and father, they also present us with the chance to save lives. If the Bible is based on fact, then we’ll have the chance to study the genetic makeup of Adam and Eve, to witness at first hand the work of our God and to understand how the human body once survived nearly a thousand years.’

  But you can’t truly believe that these relics are the remains of Adam and Eve? Surely that’s just not possible?’

  ‘Anything is possible, under the correct conditions and circumstances, Mr Woods. I agree that it is unlikely, but it is a small chance. And if it is true then I want to make sure I don’t miss the golden opportunity to examine the bodies.’

  ‘Okay, so let’s just say that the remains are those of Adam and Eve. They would be too old to be of use, surely?’

  ‘You forget that the Bible timeline and our understanding of the true historical timeline are two entirely different things. Scientists have proven that times and dates attributed to the events within the First Testament can’t be correct. But that doesn’t mean to say that the events aren’t based on real events.

  ‘Many of our ancient traditions were passed on by word of mouth until they came to someone with the ability to write them down - to record them for posterity. I believe that’s just what happened with the Bible. The times are wrong, but the events are pretty much true. Adam and Eve may be ancient, or they may be a genetic mutation by the intervention of God, or some other influence at a later date. Who knows?’ Sir Eddie paused as if contemplating whether to continue with his explanation. ‘What I’m going to say to you is probably going to sound bizarre.’

  Zac laughed. ‘And what you’ve said so far isn’t?’

  Sir Eddie nodded and smiled weakly. ‘Quite! But what I’ve told you is just one theory for the existence of modern man. There are other...let’s say...more weird explanations. Have you ever heard of the Scientologists, Mr Woods?’

  ‘Of course…Tom Cruise and John Travolta and all those folks who believe we were seeded on this planet by aliens.’

  ‘That’s the perception of most of us, I suppose. Scientology began through the writings of a science fiction author.’

  ‘That Ron L Hubbard guy...read his books,’ interrupted Zac. ‘You can’t truly believe that some little green, or grey men landed on earth and had their wicked way with some chimps?’

  ‘Hubbard believed that intelligent life from somewhere else in the universe arrived on our world and created humankind through some form of genetic intervention. Many people scoff at this theory, especially Creationists, but what if it was true? None of us has all the answers. It’s fantastic if you can hide behind Faith and declare that the Bible is the complete and unadulterated word of God, but most of us aren’t that fortunate. As a scientist, I am supposed to believe only that which I can prove, but there is so much new science out there, things that we would never have believed just a decade ago. We have to remain open to possibilities, to be able to act on new ideas when they occur. There are also other explanations for this seeding. Have you ever heard of panspermia?’

  Zac shook his head. ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘Well, that’s a theory that the seeds of life were carried through space, extremophile bacteria hitchhiking on the backs of meteors until they landed on a planet capable of sustaining life. Not an intelligent intervention as such, more a galactic game of chance. No little green men involved in that theory, but then I also have to wonder where those bacteria came from...how they came to be in the first instance?’

  Sir Eddie picked up a plastic model of what Zac recognised as a representation of a DNA double helix. ‘Look at this. We have known of the possibility of using the DNA code to find defects. It’s called Epigenetics. We know that genes can be changed through the intervention of certain chemicals, or substances. Nature does this from time to time without our help. We know of its potential because we know that during the first stages of life our stem cells have the capacity to become anything. There’s no knowing where we’ll end up in ten, twenty or fifty years time. All I know is that if we ever have the capacity to create safe genetic changes to eradicate disease or to ensure the continuation of life then we’ll no doubt do that. I believe we are obliged to do so.’

  ‘What about those people who believe we should leave well alone and not mess in God’s plan?’

  ‘But don’t you see? This IS God’s plan. If God didn’t want us to do this then we wouldn’t be able to. Forget all that stuff about defying God and eating from the Tree of Knowledge. That’s just an analogy for the genetic intervention that occurred in us - the big event that moved us rapidly from the apes into intelligent humans. It’s the seeding of intelligence, the ability to truly be in God’s image. Think about it. God made us in His image. What does that tell us? It doesn’t mean we all look like God, but we are certainly carrying His genes. That’s why it’s so crucial to secure the relics for science. It could actually prove the existence of God rather than destroy it, Mr Woods. I could secure the DNA and provide the world with evidence which would bring people flocking back to churches around the world.’

  ‘Do you seriously believe that will happen? All I see is you finding two bits of dried up beef jerky which will do nothing but destroy people’s faith, yet again. Another nail in the coffin of established religions.’

  Sir Eddie paused for a moment. ‘I see you have lost your faith, Mr Woods.’

  Zac remained silent. It was true that he had been through too many terrible times to believe that God existed, but he certainly wasn’t going to give Sir Eddie anything he might use against him. This was personal, something he hadn’t spoken to anyone about and he sure as hell wasn’t going to discuss it with someone who was doing a reasonable impression of a megalomaniac.

  Sir Eddie continued, ‘You see, we all have times of doubt, Mr Woods. I too have doubted the existence of God from time to time. As a scientist it is easy to become belligerent, to believe in only what one can prove. Take dark matter as an exam
ple. We believe it exists, something has to be there, but no one has yet proven it’s there.

  ‘There is so much out there, Mr Woods.’ Sir Eddie pointed outside the large plate glass windows. ‘So many things even science can’t yet prove or disprove. I think that perhaps science is simply a tool of God. Physics, Biology, Chemistry, all simply tools to help Him do His will. After all, ask yourself where you think these sciences came from.’

  Zac shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything about all this. All I know is that people are being killed and that you have something to do with it.’

  Sir Eddie’s face seemed to lose what little colour it had. Zac wasn’t sure whether he was going to explode or collapse.

  The old man gripped the arms of his chair. Zac could see his bony knuckles through his transparent skin. They looked as if they were about to tear their way through the thin and delicate membrane.

  ‘I am just trying to do something good for humanity. I don’t want to see anyone hurt but even you must see that the odd accident is sometimes acceptable in circumstances like these?’

  ‘I see nothing at all…other than a spoilt old man who is so used to getting his own way and has now resorted to murder.’ Zac knew he was pushing the old man, but he wanted to see how far he could go. This old bastard was responsible for at least two deaths and maybe even more. He could not be allowed to get away with it, even if the goals had some merit. The means to those objectives were beyond the acceptable, in Zac’s book.

  Sir Eddie seemed to gather his composure rather than lose it. Zac thought he looked resigned. He had failed to convert Zac to his way of thinking, and Zac knew that things could now get more dangerous. He knew that people like Sir Eddie either saw others as allies or enemies and enemies were rarely tolerated. He needed to find out more before Sir Eddie put an end to the conversation. He wanted to keep him talking, to find out as much as he could before he pulled the shutters down.

  ‘The people you are dealing with are exceedingly dangerous men, Mr Woods. I was once part of a bigger organisation, dedicated to recovering the relics. My predecessors formed the Alliance in the early twentieth century, just after the relics were returned to Britain. Adelina Patti was known to have been involved, and we suspected the relics were hidden somewhere near or in the castle…do you want me to continue?’

  ‘Please do,’ said Zac. First rule of police interviewing - let the suspect do the talking.

  ‘Henry Carre MP, became involved in Egypt. We know he was with Madame Patti when she stumbled upon the relics and the lost Library of Alexandria.’

  Zac was surprised by this development. The things MacKenzie had said were beginning to look less crazy by the second. He wanted to find out more about the Library but thought better of interrupting the old man again.

  ‘Both were religious people and recognised the significance of the relics. The British team of archaeologists were all sworn to secrecy, and the relics were boxed up and shipped to the UK. The P.M. was aware of it and had felt it best to "lose" the items for a while. He knew that a rumour would inevitably spread about the relics. There is always someone who’ll blow the secret at some time. So when Henry suggested they could use his brother to ship the relics to the UK the P.M. jumped at the chance.’

  ‘So this Alliance wanted the relics to be destroyed so that they wouldn’t have a chance of undermining their religions?’

  Sir Eddie shook his head. ‘That’s a little too simplistic an answer. They would each like to secure the relics for themselves but would rather see them destroyed than one of the others getting their hands on them. You see, the relics are common to all religions. The religious fractures that plague our world occurred centuries later.’

  But if Adelina Patti was Catholic, why didn’t she just give the things to the Pope and let him lock them away with everything else he has in his cellar?’

  Sir Eddie laughed. ‘If only it were that simple. Madame Patti may well have been a devout Catholic, but she was also supremely shrewd. She knew that the Church was susceptible to corruption. She was not blind to what was going on in the world. She simply wanted to keep the relics safe for a more enlightened time in the future when they may be appreciated as they deserve to be. She knew the Church would lock them away forever, and that no-one, other than a select few, would ever know about them.’

  ‘But she did exactly the same thing.’

  ‘Yes. But she truly believed that the time would come when they’d be presented for worshippers to pay their respects.’

  Zac had heard enough. ‘I’m sorry, but any sympathy I may have had for you has long since gone. You are responsible for the murder of two people that I know of. You cannot justify your actions by claiming you are doing the world a favour by extending the lives of just a select few.’

  ‘Frankly, Mr Woods, I’m not trying to justify anything. I am truly sorry for the loss of your friends, but I had no hand in that. I realise that you will never believe me. We will clearly not reach a consensus on this matter. I do not want you as an enemy. I would much rather have you on my side. What will it take to convince you to help me rather than hinder me?’

  ‘There’s nothing you can say,’ Zac replied emphatically. ‘We will never agree on anything in which innocent people are killed or injured for your cause.’

  ‘I am truly sorry for the deaths, but I swear I had nothing to do with them.’

  ‘It’s easy to hide behind the handiwork of others. The generals of the Great War probably believed they weren’t to blame for the millions they sent to their deaths, too.’

  Sir Eddie scoffed. ‘A ridiculous analogy, Mr Woods. You cannot compare what I have done to the tragedy of the First World War.’

  ‘Just one unnecessary death is one too many.’

  CHAPTER 53

  Gates had taken the Ka onto the main estate feeder road. Not much traffic, he thought, as he pushed the little car hard towards the town.

  The lorry was beginning to make up ground behind him. The big four-wheel monster had at first seemed ponderous after missing its target but was now anything but; the momentum of the heavy truck hurtled down on them.

  Sally was clinging to the seat and the small roof handle and had a look of sheer terror on her face. Her eyes were closed tight, and Gates could hear her making odd mewing sounds.

  Gates was operating on adrenalin. He was back in the zone. His actions were fluid and automatic, doing whatever needed to be done whenever he needed to do it, the product of training for situations exactly like this. He smiled now as he realised he was actually enjoying the chase.

  The smile disappeared when the first of the shots shattered the rear screen of the Ka and embedded itself in the sun-visor above his head. Nine-millimetre round, he thought to himself. A higher calibre round would probably have passed through the screen, the visor and the roof.

  Gates began to accelerate and was now pushing the Ka at full speed towards the exit onto the town road. Several quick, sharp swerves served to keep any more shots from finding their mark, but had a detrimental effect on the speed.

  The lorry was no more than six feet behind the Ka when Gates threw the wheel to the left and slid the little Ford onto the main road.

  The screech of brakes from other vehicles was followed by the obligatory horns of anger. The lorry rolled left, sideswiping a new Mercedes and pushing the bright red convertible into the side of a bus.

  The lorry continued after the Ka, but the little car had too much acceleration for it to catch up.

  Gates dropped the car down two gears as he weaved between slow moving traffic, heading straight down the centre of the busy shopping street.

  The noise of car horns blaring and tyres screeching was punctuated with the sound of crunching metal as the lorry barged its way through both lines of traffic.

  ‘Watch out!’ shouted Sally as a small girl on a bicycle rode into the road in front of them.

  The Ka didn’t slow. Gates swerved the little car left and onto the pavement. Shoppers
ran for cover as the car hurtled across the walkway before bouncing back down onto the road. The Ka wobbled as Gates struggled to keep the steering smooth. He knew that any sudden movements of the steering wheel at high speed could easily result in the car flipping onto its side.

  Sally pointed ahead. ‘Police!’

  Gates saw a police car up ahead. The car had come to a stop and the driver looked directly at Gates with an expression Gates had only ever seen once before, and that was on Tom the cartoon cat as he waited for Jerry to fall into his trap. But that expression lasted only fractions of a second because Gates saw the policeman’s jaw drop and his eyes bulge as he took in the devastation being caused by the lorry ploughing up the high street behind him.

  The little Ka was nearly thirty metres past the police car when the lorry destroyed the front end of the patrol vehicle and pushed it over onto its side.

  Gates kept his foot down. He was now retracing the route he had followed on the way to Zac’s meeting, so he knew there was a dual carriageway ahead. If he could make it to the wider road there was a chance they could get away without the lorry causing any more mayhem. Gates hoped the police driver was okay. He had caught a glimpse of him falling out of the wreckage of the car, so at least he wasn’t dead.

  ‘Bloody lucky!’ he said.

  ‘Who? I certainly don’t feel very lucky at the moment,’ shouted Sally over the scream of the struggling engine.

  ‘That policeman...I think he’s okay.’

  ‘I’m so glad! Now all you need to do is get us out of here, and fast.’

  ‘That’s exactly my intention, dear lady,’ smiled Gates.

  Sally looked amazed. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You sick bastard!’

  Gates laughed. ‘Must admit that I enjoy a little bit of speed. But it’s far better in my Porsche than in this poxy, little shit heap.’

  ‘Less of the “poxy,” please. It may be a shit heap, but it’s my shit heap and I’d be grateful if you could keep it in one piece.’