“First of all,” he said, “I suppose I owe you an apology.”
Cam shrugged. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Well, that’s not totally true. I traded identities with my brother. Clearly there were consequences.” He grimaced. “And I realize buying you a drink doesn’t make us even. But answers—I’m guessing you’re looking for some answers. Maybe I can give you some.” He shrugged and smiled sadly. “Though none about my brother, unfortunately.”
“I thought you were sworn to secrecy,” Cam said, referring to Randall’s Lodge Brothers rather than his biological one.
“Our initiates are sworn to secrecy, and our members are held to that as they progress up the ranks. But once you get to the 33rd Degree, the rules change a bit. I am authorized to speak candidly to you; we felt we owed you that much.” He smiled. “Though I will of course deny it later.”
Amanda leaned forward. “Let’s start with why you’re so certain this story is not going to run tonight.”
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “It starts with Nimrod. Though today his name is associated with being inept, Nimrod was one of the most powerful kings in the history of the Middle East. So powerful, in fact, that he directly challenged God by building the Tower of Babel.”
“Wait,” Amanda said, “your brother mentioned something about this in our car ride to Washington. He said Nimrod used to be venerated in Freemasonry, but they pushed him to the background because he was closely associated with Baal and pagan worship.”
“Yes. But Morgan had just scratched the surface. It goes way past Nimrod. Have you ever heard of Jahbulon?”
They shook their heads.
“Freemasons going through the Royal Arch Degree are taught that Jahbulon is one of the names of God. Each of the three syllables stands for an ancient god worshiped in the Middle East. The first stands for Jehovah, the God of the Bible. The second stands for Baal. The third is an old name for Osiris.” He didn’t have the same affected way of speaking as his brother, but he was clearly educated and intelligent.
Amanda nodded. “Makes sense. Those were, indeed, the three ancient gods of the Middle East.”
Randall responded. “The issue is that we continue to use this name Jahbulon in our rituals today. So we open ourselves up to accusations that we are giving equal status to Baal and Osiris alongside the Judeo-Christian God.” He shrugged. “The truth is that none of the Brothers have any idea what it means—it’s just part of some ritual we memorize and parrot back…”
Randall paused as a waitress brought their drinks—a Shandy for Amanda, a Sam Adams for Cam and a scotch on the rocks for Randall.
Amanda waited for the waitress to leave. “When you start talking about Baal, you start getting into the area of devil worship and human sacrifice, usually children.”
Randall sipped his drink. “So now you are beginning to see our problem. People today tend to be opposed to child sacrifice.”
Cam said, “I read that some churches in the South won’t accept Masons into their congregations.”
“Not just some, but many.” Randall smiled wryly. “Nobody wants a family of devil-worshipers in the pew next to them. It’s the biggest problem we face nowadays. If you go on the Internet, every other site is some conspiracy theory about how the Freemasons are devil-worshipers and that we are trying to take over the world. Hell, the Catholic Church’s official position still is that you can’t be both a Mason and a good Catholic.”
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter if any of it is true,” Amanda said. “If people believe you really are devil-worshipers, the perception becomes the reality.”
“And this gets back to what I said earlier,” Randall said, “about the biggest challenge and danger for Freemasonry today is being thought of as un-Christian. Our membership numbers have been declining for decades, and now we are finally beginning to reverse that trend.” He paused, waiting until they both looked him in the eye. “To be blunt, we can’t have stories about devil-worship in all the newspapers.” He sat back, as if having played his last card, and again sipped his drink.
Cam replayed the words in his mind. Can’t have stories about devil-worship in all the newspapers. He looked at Amanda; she, too, had connected the dots. Cam took a deep breath. “I think what you’re saying is that if people start investigating Lovecroft and giants, it almost inevitably leads back to Nimrod and accusations that the Freemasons are devil-worshiping child-sacrificers.”
Randall smiled sadly and lifted his glass to them. “And now you know why that story about Lovecroft being a giant is not going to run. We don’t control the country, despite what people think. But we do have many powerful friends who agree with our core beliefs and who think it is important to protect us.”
“What do you mean by core beliefs?” Cam asked, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to get candid answers from the Freemasons.
Randall sat forward and folded his hands under his chin, his Masonic ring gleaming in the light. “At it’s most basic level, we believe man is essentially good. Organized religion and big government believe the opposite, that man is fundamentally evil and needs to be controlled or policed.”
Cam had never heard it summarized that succinctly, but it resonated with him. He reflected on it for a few seconds. “There’s a striking irony to this, isn’t there?”
Randall smiled, apparently pleased Cam had teased it out. “Yes.”
Cam expounded on his thought. “All the conspiracy theorists think the Freemasons are trying to take over the world, trying to build this whole New World Order. The reality is you guys don’t trust government.”
The older man nodded. “And we never have. That is why our forefathers built this great nation with so many safeguards and an emphasis on individual rights.” He shrugged. “But why let the facts get in the way of a perfectly good conspiracy theory?”
Amanda brought the conversation back to the present. “Speaking of conspiracy theories, so you do admit it is the Freemasons who are putting the kybosh on the Lovecroft story?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure the story needs to be kyboshed. It’s rather outlandish—seafaring Phoenicians came here thousands of years before Columbus; they brought giants with them; the giants bred with our Native Americans; one of their descendants is now running for President; we know this is true because he has extra teeth.” He shrugged. “Who’s going to put their name to a story like that?”
Amanda shook her head. “But that’s not the story from today. The story from today is a simpler one: A prominent Presidential candidate held a press conference saying he might descend from a race of giants.”
Randall shrugged again. “Fair point.”
“And you are saying that story won’t run.”
“Not in that form, no. At least not in the mainstream press. A few fringe sites may pick it up and run the story next to the latest Elvis sighting.”
Cam replied, “And to be clear, this has nothing to do with the election, with you guys favoring Lovecroft over some other candidate?”
Randall made a face. “He is a bit too religious for our taste, as we just discussed. Our concern is that the press not start digging around in our old rituals and add to the chorus of voices accusing us of devil-worship.”
Cam was beginning to see shapes in the mist. “There are two trails of breadcrumbs here. They’re parallel; they lead to the same place. One starts with giants—if you follow this back, like Amanda has been doing, you end up stumbling onto all these old ties between Masonic ritual and paganism.”
Randall nodded.
“And the other trail,” Cam continued, “is the one I’ve been following. You start with ancient artifacts like the Bat Creek Stone and the Sacrificial Stone at America’s Stonehenge and follow it back. It has nothing to do with giants but, again, you end up back in Phoenicia and run head-first into ancient ties between the Masons and paganism.”
Randall nodded again, this time more slowly.
Cam leaned forward
. “So if you don’t want us to follow one trail, isn’t it fair to say you don’t want us to follow the other either?”
Randall didn’t need to nod again. He merely offered a long blink. “Your logic is impeccable, Mr. Thorne.”
Cam followed the reasoning to its natural conclusion. “So the CIA and the Smithsonian weren’t blocking research of pre-Columbian artifacts merely to give MK-Ultra a forum to practice mind control. It goes beyond that. You had an ulterior motive.”
“You are correct,” Randall conceded. “As you say, research like yours eventually leads back to the Phoenicians. To a certain amount of … ugliness. For that reason, decades ago we made clear our preference that research in pre-Columbian history be discouraged. And our friends in the government agreed to assist us.”
Amanda lifted her jaw. “The whole partnership between the Smithsonian and the CIA never totally made sense to me. There were easier ways for the CIA to train their agents and experiment with mind control—they didn’t need to ruin the careers of so many researchers. But this makes sense. Suppressing the research served a secondary purpose as well.”
Randall shrugged and smiled. “Some would argue that protecting Freemasonry was the primary purpose, and that supporting MK-Ultra was in fact secondary. But either way, you are correct.”
“So Deputy Director Wang lied to us,” Cam said.
Randall shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think policy decisions like this are made above his pay grade. And, more importantly, this decision was made generations ago, in the 1950s when Project MK-Ultra was begun by President Truman. Truman, perhaps you know, was a 33rd Degree Freemason.”
“That’s a bloody surprise,” Amanda said, setting down her drink loudly.
Cam weighed the implications of this. He had a good relationship with many Masons, and had never felt they opposed his research in any way.
As if reading his thoughts, Randall said, “This all happened, what, sixty years ago. It’s just pretty much been on auto-pilot since.”
Cam nodded, “So if they do shut down MK-Ultra as Wang promised, does that mean the Freemasons—or your friends in government—will no longer block our research?”
Randall sat back. “Our policy on this is evolving. Old-timers like myself are being replaced by a generation who don’t see the need for all this cloak-and-dagger stuff. In fact, blocking today’s Lovecroft story may be the last hurrah for my generation—going forward, we are going to focus on scrubbing our rituals clean so they aren’t tainted by the old pagan beliefs. But to answer your question, we will not encourage research in this area, but nor will we work to obstruct it.” He shrugged. “As one of the younger guys said, in the age of the internet, it’s not practical to think the free flow of ideas can be suppressed.”
As if on cue, the television above the bar began to run the five o’clock news, with the Lovecroft news conference as the lead story. Cam, Amanda and Randall leaned forward to listen as a thirty-something man in a blue blazer reported from the Copley Marriott lobby:
“Senator Webster Lovecroft, believed to be strongly considering a run for the Republican nomination for the Presidency, held a press conference today in Boston. The Senator released his medical records and called for all other candidates to do the same. The Senator’s spokeswoman also said the Senator would be releasing ten years worth of tax returns. In a prepared statement, the Senator said: ‘I believe in full disclosure and complete transparency. The American people should know as much as they can about a candidate before entering the ballot box.’”
And that was it.
Randall cocked his head and shrugged. “As I said, no story.” He stood and dropped a twenty on the table for the drinks. “Again, I’m sorry for the trouble my brother put you through. But at least I can promise the Freemasons won’t block your research. Good luck to you.”
Cam chuckled and shrugged as Randall walked away, his Masonic ring catching the light from the bar. “The twenty’s not even going to cover the drinks,” he said to Amanda.
Amanda took his hand. “Yes, but think about his promise. It’s invaluable. I don’t think the Smithsonian is going to be putting giant skeletons on display, and I don’t think anyone is going to be rushing to rewrite the history textbooks.” Her green eyes sparkled. “But at least for the first time in decades, the fix won’t be in.”
THE END
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Inevitably, I receive this question from readers: “Are the artifacts and historical sites in your stories real, or did you make them up?” The answer is: If they are in the story, they are real, actual artifacts and sites.
It is because they are real that I have included images of many of them within these pages—I want readers to see them with their own eyes, to be able to make at least a cursory judgment as to their age, origin and meaning. Are they authentic? Do they evidence ancient exploration of this continent? I hope readers will at least consider the possibility that they do.
Just as the artifacts and sites displayed in this book are real, so too are the other images—the works of art, the newspaper clippings, the maps. In short, if something is displayed within this book, it exists in the real word.
Likewise, the historical references are accurate in a general if not specific sense. Project MK-Ultra did, indeed, exist, although of course I take some liberties with the historical record within the pages of this novel.
For inquisitive readers, perhaps curious about some of the specific historical assertions made and evidence presented in this story, I offer the following substantiation (in order of appearance in the story):
Leonard Carmichael was, as I wrote, the President of Tufts University before becoming the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. According to some sources, he was—through his involvement with something called the Human Ecology Board—one of the founding members of Project MK-Ultra. http://scientific-misconduct.blogspot.com/2008/05/lsd-and-corruption-of-medicine-part-iii.html. Prior to his tenure at Tufts, he was a professor at Brown University, where he worked closely with Edmund Burke Delabarre, an expert on Dighton Rock and other ancient stone carvings of New England.
http://www.brown.edu/Administration/News_Bureau/Databases/Encyclopedia/search.php?serial=P0450. However, while it is true the U.S. government recruited Nazi scientists and doctors after World War, there is no evidence Carmichael traveled to Argentina or otherwise was involved with the recruiting of Nazi doctors as I write in the Prologue.
Project MK-Ultra was an actual program. This Wikipedia description is a fair summary of it: Project MK-Ultra — sometimes referred to as the CIA’s mind control program — is the code name of a U.S. government human research operation experimenting in the behavioral engineering of humans. Organized through the Scientific Intelligence Division of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), the project coordinated with the Special Operations Division of the U.S. Army’s Chemical Corps. The program began in the early 1950s, was officially sanctioned in 1953, was reduced in scope in 1964, further curtailed in 1967 and officially halted in 1973. The program engaged in many illegal activities; in particular it used unwitting U.S. and Canadian citizens as its test subjects, which led to controversy regarding its legitimacy. MK-Ultra used numerous methodologies to manipulate people’s mental states and alter brain functions, including the surreptitious administration of drugs (especially LSD) and other chemicals, hypnosis, sensory deprivation, isolation, verbal and sexual abuse, as well as various forms of torture.
The scope of Project MK-Ultra was broad, with research undertaken at 80 institutions, including 44 colleges and universities, as well as hospitals, prisons and pharmaceutical companies. The CIA operated through these institutions using front organizations, although sometimes top officials at these institutions were aware of the CIA’s involvement. As the Supreme Court later noted, MK-Ultra was concerned with “the research and development of chemical, biological, and radiological materials capable of employment in clandestine operations to control human behavior.” The
program consisted of some 149 subprojects which the Agency contracted out to various universities, research foundations, and similar institutions. At least 80 institutions and 185 private researchers participated. Because the Agency funded MK-Ultra indirectly, many of the participating individuals were unaware that they were dealing with the Agency.
Project MK-Ultra was first brought to public attention in 1975 by the Church Committee of the U.S. Congress, and a Gerald Ford commission to investigate CIA activities within the United States. Investigative efforts were hampered by the fact that CIA Director Richard Helms ordered all MK-Ultra files destroyed in 1973; the Church Committee and Rockefeller Commission investigations relied on the sworn testimony of direct participants and on the relatively small number of documents that survived Helms’ destruction order.
In 1977, a Freedom of Information Act request uncovered a cache of 20,000 documents relating to project MK-Ultra, which led to Senate hearings later that same year. In July 2001 some surviving information regarding MK-Ultra was officially declassified. [citations omitted]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_MKUltra
Researcher Jim Vieira has documented over 1,500 accounts of giant skeletons found in North America. A Facebook page he maintains references many of these accounts: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Stone-Builders-Mound-Builders-and-the-Giants-of-Ancient-America/556606251021542. Many of the giants listed by Amanda in the story come from Mr. Vieira’s research. Many of the skeletons in these accounts are reported to have double rows of teeth. The references in the story to giants in the Bible are accurate ones.
A good summary of the Bat Creek Stone research can be found here and in the sources cited therein: http://www.econ.ohio-state.edu/jhm/arch/batcrk.html
The Oath of Nimrod: Giants, MK-Ultra and the Smithsonian Coverup (Book #4 in Templars in America Series) Page 28