“Is that why Ambergris, Madison, and Boren have been away for the past month?” asked Shooter.
“They got back this morning,” Hawkeye said. “And they’re grinning like Cheshire cats. Something’s up.”
ODESSA SAFE HOUSE, THE UKRAINE
Dr. Henry Warren Shiloh sat in the study with Vasily Orokov. Shiloh had been dispatched to Paris and then Munich for the past month before being summoned to Odessa. The Order, at the insistence of Clude Dubois, had thought it best to keep the geneticist moving. Rumor on the street was that Triad Genomics and Titan Global were not happy with his disappearance.
Shiloh was a man of medium build, but women thought him to be extremely handsome. At Savage Bay, Heidi Boren had once kidded him that he was in the George Clooney category of hunky good looks. His facial features and eyes were kind but resolute.
“Is Dominique safe?” Dr. Shiloh asked.
Orokov clasped his hands and looked pensively at the ornate ceiling. “She passed through Odessa a few weeks ago before moving on to Shanghai. She is currently working on correlating the data from Es Vedra.”
“Does she have any idea of my clandestine role in the Savage Bay project?” Shiloh said. “Other than my work as a geneticist, of course.”
“No,” replied Orokov, “which is why you’re going to resume the same role in Shanghai. You’re going to assist her in using the Chinese version of Gencore.” Orokov paused. “But you’re going to continue looking over her shoulder lest she feel a sudden compulsion to return to her mother’s loving embrace. She could never really be trusted to be begin with, but Mr. Yang feels that the coming months will be a true test as to whether she will be faithful to our ultimate objectives.”
“I understand,” said Shiloh.
Orokov stood. “Racquetball, Henry?”
“Always, Vasily. You’ve never beaten me yet.”
Fifteen minutes later, Orokov and Shiloh stood on the private indoor racquetball court behind Orokov’s mansion. Both men wore T-shirts and shorts. Two serpents, coiled together, were tattooed on the forearms of both men.
THE GALLERY, ABOARD THE ALAMIRANTA
Hawkeye entered the enormous room that was part library and part museum. At the far end of the space, beneath the many-tiered glass walkways and a suspended Mercury Seven space capsule, was an oval mahogany conference table.
“Please sit, Mr. Hawke,” said Catherine Caine, who was seated at the head of the table.
Flanking the Titan leader were Joshua Ambergris, Christian Madison, Heidi Boren, Grace Nguyen, Touchdown, Quiz, and DJ. Other Titan and Triad executives who Hawkeye had never seen before were also seated at the table.
“I’m including you in this meeting, Mr. Hawke, since there will in all probability be a future mission for your team that will necessitate knowing what is discussed here today.”
Hawkeye nodded as he seated himself.
“Dr. Ambergris,” Caine said, “why don’t you begin?”
“Thank you, Catherine,” said Ambergris. “First, I want to thank Christian, Grace, and Heidi for their tireless efforts over the past month in working on the Code while in Greece. And Quiz and DJ, of course. Their computer skills have proven invaluable. I am pleased to report that we have now deciphered additional sections of The Genesis Code.”
Hawkeye glanced at the unfamiliar faces at the table. They leaned forward as they let out murmurs of surprise.
“That is not to say,” declared Ambergris, “that we’re anywhere close to reading all introns of our DNA, or even understanding everything on those portions that we have managed to decipher. Christian, why don’t you chronicle our progress thus far?”
Madison breathed deeply and began.
“Intron 1,111, as we have seen, is encoded with information on the self-healing properties of the human body and how those properties can be enhanced with the right amino acid sequences. But we’ve found that this intron is an index to hundreds of thousands of other introns. Our working theory is that the Ancients knew the mathematical significance of the number eleven and hard-wired an awareness into our DNA so that we would be led to this intron as a guide of sorts.”
“Which is why so many people notice the numbers 111 or 1,111,” Quiz interjected.
“Precisely,” continued Madison. “Furthermore, Intron 1,111 goes into exacting detail as to how basic genetic codes of deoxyribonucleic acid can be re-written or modified. We now have the basic techniques used by the Ancients, though we are just beginning to understand possible applications for such modifications.”
Boren spoke next.
“Intron 1,111 also points to other introns: 2,222; 3,333; 4,444; 5,555; 6,666; 7,777; 8,888, and 9,999. Each of these introns contains information on critical subject areas, but they, in turn, also point to thousands of other introns. This kind of ‘directory approach’ was obviously necessary since the entire Code — or even long sections of the Code — could not interrupt a single sequence of DNA without causing serious biological damage to the human organism. The Ancients therefore had to plant the code in numerous places, although they did so very methodically and always with clear markers as to where we could access additional portions of their message.”
Heads around the table nodded their understanding.
“What are some of these critical areas of interest?” asked Hawkeye.
Boren continued.
“Much of the Code discusses not only the cure of diseases, but the prevention of most illnesses, such as cancer, diabetes, heart disease, and thousands of others. We believe that the human organism originally evolved with the ability to fight off all disease. Our lifestyles, however, have always compromised the body’s ability to fight disease, whether in present day or hundreds of thousands of years ago.”
“Other parts of The Genesis Code go far beyond repairing the human organism,” Dr. Ambergris stated. “It is apparently possible to enhance brain function, endurance, strength, visual acuity, and the like.”
“In other words,” said Nguyen, “we can do genetically what our BioMEMS systems now do, although the potential is far greater than that afforded by our current nanobot technology. What is most intriguing, however, is the possible enhancement of brain function. The entire thrust of human evolution has been geared toward a larger cranial capacity that can accommodate greater and greater cognition.”
“Wait just a second,” Hawkeye interrupted. “It sounds like we’re talking about engineering a master race. I think that was tried in the 1940s.”
Mumbles were heard around the table.
“What we’re talking about,” said Mrs. Caine, “is the ability to do a great many things. This doesn’t mean that we’re going to implement everything we see in the Code. We’re talking about its potential at present, nothing more.”
“Indeed,” said Ambergris. “In fact, there are indications that the Ancients have included many warnings along with the knowledge of their discoveries.”
“Warnings that the Chinese or others are not likely to heed,” said Hawkeye. “They’ll want to use the Code for self-serving purposes.”
Conversation erupted around the conference table immediately. Voices of protest and concern filled the Gallery.
Catherine Caine stood.
“We’re going to take a break, ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “Let’s everyone calm down. We’ll reconvene in one hour.”
OBSERVATION DECK, ABOARD THE ALAMIRANTA
Hawkeye approached Isabella Cruz from behind. Her long hair blew about her smooth shoulders. Standing next to her so that their arms barely touched, he leaned against the railing, staring at the broad blue ocean.
“Where’s your next mission?” asked Cruz.
“Iran. Titan Six will try to deactivate a nuclear power plant that is secretly enriching uranium and plutonium.”
“Right up your alley, eh?”
“Yeah. I’m an adrenaline junkie.” He breathed deeply, sighing. “Thanks for all the help at Savage Bay,” he said. “Any fighting forc
e is only as good as its support team.”
Cruz looked straight ahead. “I was glad to lend a hand,” she said. She paused and closed her eyes. “You’re a sweet man, Michael Hawke.”
“Sweeter than your friend Marcos?”
Cruz turned and rolled her eyes. “A mere diversion,” she said. “But diversions are only that. They’re no substitute for the real thing.”
“I suppose not.”
“Then why didn’t you call me after the mission in Baghdad? You relegated me to the status of . . . a diversion.”
Hawkeye knit his brows. “I . . . I was losing my confidence. I’ve made some bad mistakes in the last year or two. Mistakes that have cost people dearly.”
“Such as Touchdown?”
“Yeah. Touchdown. But my mistakes aren’t confined to Titan missions. I didn’t want to hurt you, Isabella.”
“So you beat the hell out of people at The Fight Club in Ibiza? Such a pathetic, macho way to work out your issues.”
“You’re exactly right,” said Hawkeye, placing his hands on Cruz’s shoulders and turning her body to face his. “I need to grow up a little. Will you help?”
“Why don’t you get back to me when you feel that you’re an adult? I don’t like to nursemaid men as they — ”
Hawkeye gently pressed his lips against those of Cruz. He slipped his hands around her waist and drew her closer. He then stroked her hair and rubbed his fingers across her cheek.
“Yes,” she said, her breath suspended, lips parted. “I’d be happy to help you.”
They kissed again.
Chapter 37
THE GALLERY, ABOARD THE ALAMIRANTA
The meeting reconvened at the conference table. Catherine Caine spoke first.
“I’d like to make something very clear before we continue. Our efforts to prevent the Chinese from possessing Genesis research were made in order to address the concerns raised in this room a little while ago. Neither Titan Global nor Triad Genomics has any intention of forming specific plans to develop Genesis data according to some kind of political agenda. That having been said, Triad does intend to continue unlocking more of the Code and to conduct research as to its potential. To turn away from such knowledge might well jeopardize mankind itself, which seems quite intent on destroying itself and the planet which gave it life. The Ancients gave us this knowledge for a reason.”
No one around the mahogany table said a word.
“That’s almost an understatement,” said Christian Madison. “The Ancients have information about so many things that might help us avoid extinction. While we don’t have any specifics yet — as already noted, the arrangement of the Code is very complex — the Ancients have provided information on engineering techniques that are undreamt of. They also speak of harnessing many sources of power, such as solar, cold fusion, and forms that frankly we don’t comprehend yet. There is even information on reversing climate change, an issue they, too, apparently faced as a result of technological developments.”
“What about averting cataclysms such as the one that destroyed them?” asked DJ.
Ambergris nodded somberly. “They have most assuredly addressed that. A synergistic use of global climate control and engineering skills seems to be what they have suggested to their progeny — us.”
“And yet, their most startling information and cautions,” said Quiz, “goes beyond mere science.”
Quiz looked at Caine, seeking approval to expand on his statement. She nodded.
“The information on bodily healing was contained on Intron 1,111 for a reason. In recent years, the number has been associated by many religions and cultures with a spiritual awakening. The Ancients, I believe, are telling us through this number, as well as information on other introns, that only advanced consciousness can save mankind and this planet in the long run, technology aside.”
Gasps once again emanated from around the table.
“Consider the following,” Quiz said. “Over forty million people worldwide have had near-death experiences. Their accounts are remarkably similar, and virtually every survivor claims to have expanded consciousness, lucid dreams, out-of-body experiences, visions, and angel encounters. Their lives and priorities are completely changed.”
“Angel encounters?” asked Hawkeye.
“Yes,” said Quiz.
“This information does not leave this chamber,” Catherine Caine warned.
“Is it so hard to believe,” Quiz said, “that a higher order of beings is seeking to guide mankind? In fact, eighty percent of all people who have an NDE see angels before they even perceive themselves as leaving their bodies — while having a heart attack, for example, or near an automobile accident. And let me remind you that most near-death experiences have no correlation with drug use, surgery, or anesthesia.”
“Have you decoded precise information on paranormal phenomena?” asked one the Triad directors.
“No,” answered Madison. “But from a rudimentary reading of the Code, there certainly appears to be considerable information in our DNA on higher consciousness and its supreme importance for mankind.”
There was again silence around the table as all assembled tried to assimilate the ramifications of what had been discussed.
“There’s one more point that should be made,” Caine said.
She produced a small stone tablet with two entwined serpents carved on its surface.
“This was found on Es Vedra by one of the Titan teams assisting in search and rescue,” she said. “It is a symbol similar to both the medical caduceus and the double helix. It has been used by a group simply known as the Order, which may have existed for thousands of years. They obviously have had some kind of awareness of The Genesis Code far longer than anyone else on earth.”
“What was it doing at Savage Bay?” asked Cruz.
“I can only draw one conclusion,” said Caine. “They planted a spy on Es Vedra in order to advance their own efforts to unlock the Code. Someone infiltrated Triad Genomics. The same thing happened in Nevada. The FBI felt quite sure that the Genesis Project, after being located from Manhattan to a facility in the Nevada desert, had been infiltrated by someone from the Order. The Bureau moved the project to Savage Bay and outsourced security to Titan Global.”
“Do we know who that person was?” asked DJ. “And was Dominique aware of him or her?”
“Yes. He’s gone missing since the island’s evacuation.” Caine became tentative in her speech. “But I don’t know if Dominique, however, was aware of that person’s presence.”
“Was he working with the Chinese?” asked Cruz.
“That,” said Caine, standing, “is the most troubling question yet. We have no idea what the agenda of the Order might be.”
Chapter 38
CATHERINE CAINE’S QUARTERS, ABOARD THE ALAMIRANTA
Caine sat at her desk, lost in thought. She had been quite honest with Isabella Cruz as to her ignorance of the Order’s agenda, assuming there was one.
And yet, her daughter’s cryptic message before silence had engulfed Savage Bay, still haunted her.
We have been deceived.
Deceived by whom? Was there some aspect of The Genesis Code that no one except Dominique knew? Was there an even more startling secret contained in the Code that not even Madison or Ambergris had yet found? Had Dominique come across it at Es Vedra?
Caine folded her arms. She thought such a scenario unlikely. Oddly, she trusted her ancestors that everyone called the Ancients — trusted people two hundred thousand years before she had been born. She felt sure that The Genesis Code was entirely devoted to the survival and betterment of mankind.
We have been deceived.
The message from Dominique was almost surely tied in to her choice to work with the Chinese military.
To become a traitor.
Caine stood, walked to the bedroom of her luxurious and spacious living quarters, and looked in the mirror.
She knew what Dominique had meant. Someon
e had convinced her daughter that the Chinese were the proper custodians of The Genesis Code — had convinced her that powerful secrets affecting mankind’s ability to reshape its DNA and therefore its future could not be entrusted to the capitalist economy of the West. That was the deception: that Triad Genomics or anyone else would do an adequate job of utilizing ancient secrets.
The image staring back at Catherine Caine looked unsettled.
Greed was everywhere. In the long run, Dominique might be right. The Genesis Code could be perverted by the West as well as the East. Human nature was unpredictable. The next decade would probably determine the fate of the human race. It wasn’t technology that was good or bad. It was how it was used.
But what of the Order?
She turned away from the mirror. At present, the question had no answer.
DUBOIS ESTATE, OUTSIDE LYON, FRANCE
Claude Dubois sat on the veranda of his estate, overlooking the broad green field that sloped beneath himself and his guest: Admiral Hawi-su.
The Admiral was the eleventh man on the Order’s Council. His existence within the secret society was unknown to Yang, Orokov, and Shiloh — the three brothers absent from the meeting the night Titan Six had reclaimed Savage Bay.
“The research will continue very well under the guidance of Dominique Caine,” Hwai-su said. “Once she has the CL chips duplicated, that is.”
“And what of Yang,” asked Dubois. “Does he suspect that you are one of us?”
The Admiral looked vacantly across the field as he sipped tea. “I do not think so, but Yang is a man who is difficult to read. My membership in the Order has been kept a secret from the day of my initiation. Time will tell.”
Dubois stared ahead as well.
“Do you still think you can forward all research to me as it becomes available?” asked Dubois.
“I have clearance to all research facilities. And my operatives are very well trained.”
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