The Messiah Conspiracy - A gripping page-turning Medical Thriller - [Omnibus Edition containing Book 1 & Book 2]

by Irvine, Ian C. P.

  “So, I hope you got my instructions Colonel, and that you fully understand them. Officially, my fiancée and myself are here purely on a pleasure visit to oversee the work that is going on. Danielle is going to stay on for a month to get some rest and recuperation under the eyes of the doctors here, and I want you to take personal responsibility for her well being. Make sure she gets whatever she wants...as long as the doctor allows it...”

  The President glanced over at Clara, now known as ‘Danielle’, and was annoyed to see that she was busy studying the Colonel and obviously admiring the man. The President knew she had a penchant for men in uniform.

  She was already visibly flushed just standing next to Colonel Smart, and with such an insatiable sexual appetite, for a second the President wondered if leaving her alone surrounded by men of the MCPE was such a good idea. But then again, she would be pregnant, and she wanted the baby just as much as he did.

  She wouldn’t be so stupid as to mess it up. There was far too much riding on this one, for both of them.

  The main reason for marrying Danielle was to have a mother for the child, but already he was beginning to get cold feet about settling down with one woman. He liked the life of a bachelor, where he could have a different woman whenever he wanted one, and after considering the matter further he knew that becoming a one-woman man might be a little harder than he previously thought. So, the President had decided to hedge his bets and wait and see how successful the treatment was going to be: if the baby clone was created and successfully implanted into Danielle’s womb, and after one month everything was still okay, then he would marry her.

  If it didn’t work, then the wedding was off. Cancelled indefinitely.

  “We’ve decided to postpone our wedding until Danielle is fully recovered, then we’ll fly back to Washington, get married and disappear for a week on a well-deserved holiday. The thing is Colonel, I know you know why Danielle is really here, but you must ensure that the truth is restricted to only those people that absolutely need to know. To all the rest, this is just a spot of R&R...Am I understood!?”

  “Perfectly sir. I have already taken precautions with Prof. Stuart and Prof. Calvert to see that only the necessary doctors and nurses will be allowed entry onto Level 3 where the procedure will be performed. On the day the procedure happens, Level 3 will be off-limits to all other staff and no one will even be aware that Miss Danielle will be visiting a doctor on that day. Only five people in total will be attending and aware of the procedure, and they have all been checked out and can be trusted, Sir.”

  “Excellent, Colonel Smart. Excellent work.” The President patted him on the shoulder and smiled cordially at the Colonel. “Now, if you don’t mind, Clara...sorry...Danielle and myself would like to freshen up. Tim, when did you say we were meeting with the Professors?”

  “I didn’t Sir. But I have arranged for us to meet them in one hour’s time, which is 3pm local time. Don’t forget to adjust your watch Sir.”

  “Damn. I’m always forgetting to do that. Thanks Tim. I’ll meet you outside the room by the elevators in one hour?…If I’m a little bit late, don’t get angry with me…” The President smiled coyly and looked lustily at Danielle, his meaning and his excuse being only too clear. Danielle smiled back playfully.

  .

  ---------------------

  .

  The guard outside of the executive suite stood to attention as the President opened up his door and stepped out into the little reception room in front of the elevators. Tim was waiting in one of the chairs, reading one of the magazines lying on the table. The President was twenty minutes late.

  “Sorry, I’m late Tim, but I hope you understand. Depending how things go here, I might not be seeing Danielle for a while…”

  Tim smiled back knowingly, pretending to understand and be sympathetic. In reality, he just didn’t care. Things were going from bad to worse, and with every day that went past, Tim began to feel more unhappy with his job. Worse than that, when he had entered the lab complex today, he felt uncomfortable and nervous, as if some sixth sense was telling him that something had changed. The place had an unpleasant feeling in the air, and whereas physically the place looked the same as it did the last time he was here, something had definitely changed, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

  The feeling got stronger and stronger as they approached the laboratory where the Crown was being held, and as they entered, Tim felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Every nerve cell in his body told him that something was very wrong, but Tim could not tell what. Thankfully he would be leaving in a few days on a flight back to Washington, taking the Crown of Thorns with him on its first leg back to the French. In Washington they would hand it over to the French Embassy who would take the responsibility of shipping it back to France. The return of the Crown to the Catholic church in France had been another of the bargaining chips Tim had used to obtain the first Vatican press release which dismissed the first comet, and endorsed NASA’s explanation of it being a secret spy satellite which had burned up in the atmosphere after they had lost control of it.

  .

  ---------------------

  .

  Indeed, after dismissing the first comet as being an unfortunate coincidence, the Vatican had confirmed the visions and dreams of the faithful around the world, and had predicted that the ‘true’ comet was to be expected during the period just before Christmas.

  Tim had spent the rest of yesterday on the phone to NASA arranging the final details. NASA, funded entirely by the American Senate and the say-so of the American President, had been quick to 'volunteer' to co-operate with the President’s intended fire display.

  They asked no questions. With a threat that was only too clear they were told that no questions would be tolerated, and under no circumstances were any leaks or explanations of the impending fire work display to find their way out to the press. On the contrary, the President’s office had already prepared the official press release from NASA on their behalf, declaring NASA’s surprise and wonder at the appearance of the new comet, and admitting to not being able to explain what it was or where it came from, and in a careful manipulation of words, hinting that the comet could have been caused by supernatural causes. Scientifically of course, NASA ‘could not make any comments on the nature of the supernatural event’.

  The Press Release would then cleverly go on to comment on the ‘many rumours’ which compared the new comet to the Christmas nativity star of the New Testament. Having clearly proposed the similarity and bringing it to the forefront of people’s attention, they then went on to dismiss it by saying that NASA could not endorse that conclusion. Such conclusions were naturally a matter for the Church and not the State. Of course, no such rumours actually existed and the Press Release would be the first time this similarity would have been drawn, but Tim knew that once the Press got hold of it, they would make a field day of it.

  .

  It would come as no surprise to anyone who knew Tim Curts, who'd masterminded the whole project, that he had also already provided the Vatican with the text of another Vatican Press Release.

  In return for the rest of the photographs and remainder of the file on Pope Peter, after NASA had crashed the space shuttle into the American atmosphere, the Vatican would endorse the upcoming firework display above America as being the ‘true comet’ and as the long awaited and foretold sign from God that everyone had waited for in the past few months. The Vatican Press Release fell short of actually declaring with the endorsement of the Catholic church, that the comet signified the birth place of the Messiah and the return of Jesus Christ to be happening in America. Rather, in unsaid words, and clever innuendo, the Vatican Press Release would leave it completely in the hands of the hungry press to fill in the gaps and complete the rest of the message themselves.

  In less than a month, the comet in Europe would be forgotten, and the world press would whip up the peoples of the earth int
o believing that the comet over America was a direct sign from God declaring America to be the birth place of the Messiah.

  If the procedure went well over the next few days, an unstoppable ball would soon be set into motion. The date for the ‘comet’ to appear in the skies had been chosen as the evening of the twenty fourth of December. Christmas Eve in America, Christmas Day in many other places.

  .

  ---------------------

  .

  Tim had done well. Why then did he feel so bad about it? In theory he was doing a brilliant job, yet for some reason, the whole thing stank to high heaven. In fact, that was the problem. In a nutshell.

  If all this was meant to be natural, and foretold, and if the Son of God was truly meant to be born in America, why was all this lying and cheating necessary?

  Tim was confused, and in deep moral trouble. He didn’t understand what was really happening, or how to change his part in all of it. And all the time in the back of his mind were his family. He knew that somehow he had to get away from his job…but he knew that to do so, could probably mean death for them all.

  Tim knew too much to be allowed to walk away.

  With each passing day, he felt more and more like Judas in the New Testament, and that his career had become his personal thirty pieces of silver.

  .

  ---------------------

  .

  “It’s great to see you Mr President!” Professor Jim Stuart greeted the President with a firm handshake. The President returned his grip, encircling Jim’s one hand with both of his. The President had been taught that trick by a PR firm long ago. It was one of those small things that added to what people sometimes mistakenly called ‘Charisma’.

  “And you too, Professor Calvert. I’ve heard a lot about your work!”

  “It’s an honour Sir.”

  The President loved people sucking up to him.

  Perhaps that was the single reason why the President respected Tim Curts so much. Tim was the only person that didn’t ‘suck up’ to him.

  Professor Calvert explained to the President how to put on his biological protection bunny suit, and when he and Tim were ready, they moved in pairs through the airlock to the ultra-clean zone beyond. A host of new equipment had been moved into the lab. The Smithsonian 350 had been adapted to include an incubator, hood and robotic arms which would control the placement of the donor nucleus into the egg cells, and a radiation source and electromagnetic array had been built around it so that when required, a focussed beam of neutron radiation could be targeted at the genetic material.

  Lastly, by way of minute metal needles, the position of which could be controlled by the robotic arms and the computer, it would be possible to pass a small electromagnetic pulse across the sample. This would kick the cell into life and mimic the chemical chain reaction which was naturally set off when sperm penetrated the egg wall in normal human conception.

  .

  At Professor Calvert’s invitation they settled around the Smithsonian 350 and he explained to them what was going to happen. The President was visibly impressed.

  “Okay, so basically we are ready to proceed. We’ve already done some preliminary work, and we believe that the process will succeed.” With the help of some quick sketches on a white board Prof. Stuart spent the next thirty minutes explaining the procedure. “…All we need now is some egg cells from Clara...” He concluded.

  “Danielle...” The President promptly reminded him.

  “Sorry... Danielle. With your permission, Mr President, I would like to suggest that we adjourn for dinner just now, and in the meantime we ask Danielle to pop up to the lab to see Doctor Roberts. Under local anaesthetic she’ll take one of Danielle’s eggs and prepare the sample cells we need. Dr Roberts has already spoken to Danielle by phone and apparently your trip coincides with a good time of the month for her body to provide the eggs we need...”

  “Coincidence? I don’t think so gentleman. It’s clear to me that this whole thing is meant to be! It’s fate gentleman. Fate!” The President stood up, clapping his hands almost gleefully. “I hope you guys serve some good Claret with dinner?”

  “I think we may be able to arrange something, Mr President. Excuse us if we don’t drink with you though. After dinner we’ll be coming back to the lab, to start the procedure,” Prof. Stuart excused himself and his colleague.

  “If it works, how long will it be before we’re able to implant Danielle?” Tim asked, mainly for the benefit of the President. He already knew the answer.

  “As you know, in the old days it would take about two days for an impregnated egg cell to accept the donated nucleus and divide for the first time. Over the past ten years, by better understanding the process of cell division, the role of RNA and how the ribosome ‘factories’ work, we’ve been able to speed up the process by ‘helping’ a little with the development of Super Genetic Nutrients, SGN’s for short. The impregnated cells soak in the SGN’s and absorb all the material they need through the cell walls. Effectively all the different elements of the cell division process are enhanced and accelerated...”

  “Woooooaaahh …I’m not one of your white coated lab geeks. You’re going way above my head! What the hell are you talking about?” the President laughed aloud.

  Prof. Stuart went slightly red in the face. Thankfully Prof. Calvert stepped in to save his embarrassment.

  “Basically, what we’re trying to say is that if we put a nucleus created from the blood which we believe contains Christ’s DNA into Danielle's egg cell this evening, say around 10pm, then we would expect the first cell division to take place around 5am tomorrow morning, with further cell division taking place about every seven hours after that. So after forty nine hours we’ll have about one hundred and twenty eight cells, which is enough for us to transfer into the surrogate mother... sorry Danielle...and for the embryo to be accepted and lodge itself in the womb and grow normally, developing first into a foetus, and then a bouncing baby boy.”

  “Fantastic. So in two day’s time Danielle could be pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s something to drink to! Now, show me where you keep that Claret...I’m thirsty…and hungry!”

  Quite clearly, as far as the President was concerned, the lesson was over.

  .

  ---------------------

  .

  They returned to the lab later that evening after a superb three-course meal, which was accompanied by an excellent choice of wines from the centre’s very own wine cellar. The CBWI had its own world class chefs. As in a submarine, or warship at sea for a long period of time, it was well recognised that an essential factor in keeping morale high in the large underground bunker was excellent food, and good entertainment facilities. The complex had two of its own cinemas, a fantastically equipped gym, a thirty metre swimming pool, and several saunas and steam rooms, as well as a library, bowling alley, table tennis and pool/snooker facilities.

  Before returning to the lab the President had an extensive tour of the facilities and decided that later that night he wanted to return to the cinema and catch one of the latest new films.

  .

  The Professors had gone ahead of them to the lab, leaving it to Colonel Smart to act as the tour-guide. By the time the President and Tim walked back into the clean lab, everything was ready. Danielle’s cells were already prepared, and several fresh artificial nuclei had been inserted into micro-pipettes, with everything placed safely inside the hood of the new temperature regulated incubator they had attached to the Smithsonian.

  .

  In the end it was Professor Stuart who was given the honour of starting the process, simply because he was nearest the machine at the time. Professor Calvert directed their attention to the overhead plasma screen on which they would be able to follow the proceedings.

  “…okay...so now Jim is picking up one of the pipettes with the robotic arms and is attempting to pierce the outer membrane of the egg cell with t
he sharp end of the pipette…right, we’re in…and now, very carefully he will remotely squeeze on the end of the pipette and one of the artificial nuclei will be dropped into the centre of the egg cell...you can see for yourselves just now that the egg cell is in fact empty, because earlier on the real nucleus of the egg cell was removed to make way for this one...right, that’s it…that white thing which has just popped out of the pipette is the nucleus …now Jim has to very carefully withdraw the pipette…Excellent…Next, we will irradiate the cell with neutron radiation for about two minutes...this is the dose that we’ve found should deliver the result we want and effectively seal the cell for long enough for the process of cell division to begin. In about five minutes Jim will send an electromagnetic pulse across the cell, which mimics the chemical process normal sperm would initiate upon conception...then in about an hour, we will put the cell in the Super Genetic Nutrient, which will allow it to absorb the nutrients it needs through the natural pores of the cell membrane. By that time the cell replication process will have begun and there should be little danger of the cell expelling the nucleus...”

  “Is that it?” the President asked, a little disappointed there wasn’t more to see.

  “Yes...except in a moment, if Jim will let me…I’ll repeat the process twice, so that we will end up with three potential embryos. The tricky part happens sometime during the next seven hours. When we come in after breakfast tomorrow morning, if we’re lucky at least one of the cells will have divided.”

  “And what happens if more than one cell has divided?” the President asked, turning to Prof. Calvert.