Ancient Echoes (36 page)

Jake shook his head. “It’s got to be some wild yarn.”

“Do you believe it?” Michael asked.

“The story is true,” Quade said. “I read Francis Masterson’s
first journal. The Smithsonian stored it among the remnants of a small, failed
Mormon settlement called New Gideon. I assume the Tukudeka probably picked it
up, and it later fell into the hands of settlers. If the settlers had found the
pillars, they surely would have mentioned them. In any case, the journal
chronicled the Secret Expedition before Masterson stepped between the pillars.
People assumed it to be a work of fiction, or wild scribblings of a madman.
These papers and this place prove he wrote truth.”

“Even though I’m standing right here,” Jake said, “I still
find it hard to believe.”

“I don’t,” Michael said. “It fits with a discovery I made in
Mongolia.” He briefly told them about opening the tomb of Lady Hsieh and her
practice of alchemy—but left out the fact that he believed he saw and spoke to
her.

Still, Jake looked at him as if his
mentis
was not
very
compos
.

“Being hard to believe doesn’t make it false,” Quade
reminded him. “More importantly, these papers tell not only what became of the
Expedition, but also Abbé Gerard.”

“You’ve heard of him?” Michael asked.

“The surprise is that you haven’t,” Quade said with a
strange, secretive smile. “You didn’t see it, did you?”

“See what?” Michael asked.

“Abbé Gerard’s family name was Rombert, pronounced in the
French way, Rohm-
berrr
. But it wasn’t always French. The abbot was
actually a descendent of Edward Kelley, who was either one of the great
alchemists of all time, or one of the greatest con artists. What we know about
him is a mixture of rumor, legend, and truth, and no one can be sure which is
which.”

“What does he have to do with any of this?” Michael asked.

“It’s a long story, but one well worth hearing. Edward
Kelley was believed to have been born in Ireland in the 16
^th
century. A thief and swindler, early in life, his ears were sliced off as
punishment. He fled to England and managed to find himself a wealthy,
well-educated sponsor, an older man named John Dee.

“Dee had spent his life studying the supernatural, and
amassing a large library about it. When he met Kelley, who claimed to be
clairvoyant, a psychic, Dee believed him. He even brought Kelley to the court
of Elizabeth I.”

Clearly warming to showing off his erudition, Quade wore a
sly smile as he continued. “At one point, Kelley even convinced Dee the angels
spoke directly to him, and wrote down what they said in a made up language he
called Enochian. Dee became so much under Kelley’s influence that when Kelley
suggested they swap wives for the good of the angels and man, Dee agreed.”
Quade smirked. “By the way, history tells us Dee’s wife was much prettier than
Kelley’s, and also that Mrs. Dee had a child some nine months after Kelley’s
escapade with her, something which apparently made Dee rather unhappy. But that
still wasn’t enough to cause John Dee to end their association.”

“This is important, why?” Jake asked impatiently.

“Kelley’s interest moved to alchemy,” Quade said with a nod.
“Using books and materials from Dee’s vast collection, including
The Book of
Abraham the Jew
, which Kelley kept for himself, he claimed to have learned
the secret to creating gold, and apparently demonstrated it several times at
the English court.

“Emperor Rudolf of Bohemia heard about this, and wanted some
of that gold. He invited Dee and Kelley to his court. They went, sans their
troublesome wives. They had a problem, however. Once in Romania, Kelley
apparently lost his ability to produce gold. He begged the King for more time.
Dee, who wasn’t a complete fool, fled back to England, while Kelley found
himself a new patron named Vilém Rozmberk. This Rozmberk managed to protect
Kelley from the emperor for some time, and spent a fortune on Kelley, in hopes
of being repaid through Kelley’s gold-making acumen. Kelley’s only success,
however, came when he convinced Rozmberk’s daughter, Anna, to marry him...prior
wife notwithstanding.

“Kelley spent lavishly, and his extravagances financially
ruined Rozmberk. The emperor lost all patience, and sent Kelley to prison where
he eventually died from complications after breaking both legs trying to escape.

“Kelley’s wife grew fearful that the Emperor’s wrath would
fall on her and her son. She fled Romania, taking
The Book
with her. She
knew its value, and that an alchemist could use it to make gold for their
family. It’s said that her son, also named Edward, inherited his father’s
psychic ability, plus some of his less noble traits. He, too, became an
alchemist and a confidence man.

“Also, you should know that Anna didn’t take Kelley’s name
as hers. The man had been a scandal, and she wanted nothing to do with him.
Since Rozmberk was an awkward name, she changed it to Romberg.

“During a period of anti-Semitism in France, the family
changed their Jewish-sounding name to Rombert. Despite the name changes, Edward
Kelley’s bloodline continued, and each generation of males possessed psychic
abilities.
Some more, some less.”

A chill rippled through Michael at these words. He wanted to
tell Quade to stop; at the same time, he wanted to hear the rest of Quade's
peculiar tale.

“Gerard Rombert was one such descendant. He thought his
visions and understanding of future events were caused by the Devil. Because
they brought him great anxiety, he joined a monastery hoping they would go
away, but they didn’t. In the monastery, he was drawn to ancient writings about
alchemy. He owned
The Book of Abraham the Jew
, passed on to him by his
father as a family keepsake.”

“The last history knew of Abbé Gerard Rombert de
Fontainebleau and his special book, he left France after the French Revolution
broke out. In his travels, he met men who knew much more about alchemy than did
the Catholics in France. Once he did, a new world opened up to him, as you have
read in these papers.”

“Fascinating,” Michael said.

“Yes, but there’s more,” Quade said.
“His
name.”

“What do you mean?”

“As the family traveled to different countries, including
the U.S., its name changed in various ways. Rombart, Rembart, Rempart. They are
all from the same root. You, Michael, and Lionel, are descendants of Edward
Kelley.”

As much as Michael had been sure that would be the upshot of
the story, he feigned disgust. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? I have seen your intuition, which is nothing more
than a modern, unthreatening term for psychic abilities. Why were only you and
Lionel able to see the array of lights when none of the rest of us could?”
Quade asked.

“That is going too far,” Michael said.

“Michael’s right!” Jake groaned. “This is giving me a
headache.”

“The bottom line,” Quade said, “is that alchemy got us here,
and is needed to get us out. And we just happen to have a descendant of Edward
Kelley to help us.”

“That’s where I have a problem,” Jake said. “It’s simply too
much of a coincidence.”

“What, you don’t find it a happy chance that Lionel and I just
happened to come to Idaho?” Michael folded his arms in disgust.

“Clearly, it is no coincidence,” Quade said. “Whoever is
behind this has done a lot of investigating. That person knows about your
family. The information I gave you is available to many people. Someone has
connected the story of Edward Kelley and his descendants to the Rempart name.
It stands to reason, given your notoriety, Michael, that once someone began
putting this together, such connections would be made. In a way, it may also
explain why both brothers have a professional interest in the anomalies of the
past.”

Michael shook his head. “No. I suspect Lionel was chosen
because of his field of study, and his connection with George Washington
University.”

“Not really.” Quade’s small cupid-shaped lips curled in a
smile. “Masterson’s journal is in the Smithsonian. Any scholar could have read
it. No, it took someone with a special affinity for the promise presented in
The
Book of Abraham the Jew,
and an affinity for alchemy itself, to throw all
caution to the wind and come on this journey. That there happens to be two of
you
makes
you an even better fit.”

“If it was a matter of finding a descendent of Edward
Kelley, there could be hundreds of people to choose from,” Michael argued.

“Or few.
Or maybe none
except
the two of you. Genealogical lines die out all the
time. People die young, die in wars, in famines, or simply die without issue.
The remarkable thing after so many centuries is to find any offspring at all.”

Despite his protests, Michael knew everything Quade said was
true. He knew it before he raised the objections. Quade's story answered
questions about himself, about his strange intuitive ability. “What about
Edward Kelley?” His voice was soft, resigned. “Where did he get his psychic abilities?”

“All we know is that he came from Ireland. Many people
believe Kelley wasn’t his real name, so we’ll never know. Personally, I
wouldn’t be surprised if his ancestors didn’t include Hermes Trismegistus
himself.” He stared at Michael a moment. “It makes me wonder what your father
is like. Of course, that’s none of my business.”

Quade’s last comment churned in Michael’s mind.

William Claude Rempart was frightfully intelligent, but
seemed to exist on a different plane, almost a different dimension.

Michael always suspected that oddness had a lot to do with
his mother’s death.

They lived on a large estate and she fell from the balcony
of a third floor study onto a brick patio. Michael watched her fall to her
death. Fall? Or jump? Whichever it was, Michael had stood and watched her…and
had done nothing to stop her.

Her death had been ruled an accident, but Michael had doubts
about that determination.

Lionel was ten years older and at Yale at the time.

Their father, who had never been very practical or
down-to-earth, became even more withdrawn. Some said his wife’s death drove him
mad. Others said he caused her death, with dark hints of murder or driving her
to take her own life.

Michael ended up being raised by nannies. The family
housekeeper alone gave the young boy love and compassion. The housekeeper and
her little daughter were once Michael's whole world, and then they too were
gone.

After his mother's death Michael lived his life trying to
convince himself that he didn’t care anything about his parents or their
troubled lives, but he did. He sometimes wondered if he wasn’t more his
father’s son than he wanted to admit.

Voices and movement beyond the stables warned them the
villagers approached. “You’re right,” Michael said to Quade. “It is none of your
business.”

New York City

“MR. LI,” JENNIFER Vandenburg said
as she held out her hand and welcomed Jianjun to her office. The large windows
and magnificent view stunned him. “Your call intrigued me,” she said as she
stepped behind her ebony and chrome desk and offered Jianjun a seat.

“Thank you for seeing me.” He sat in the black leather arm
chair facing her and then told his carefully made-up story. “It has come to Dr.
Michael Rempart’s attention that you were his brother’s benefactress for his
Idaho trip. He needs to learn as much as possible about the trip to help him
find Lionel.”

A flicker of what seemed like anger showed for an instant
before she regained her composure. “If I had, I wouldn’t be keeping it from the
authorities, would I?” Vandenburg smiled sweetly.

“Except that you don’t want the public to know about your
interest in alchemy.”

“Alchemy?
I have no idea what
you’re talking about.”

“But you do,” Jianjun said coolly. “It’s why you sent Lionel
Rempart to Idaho.”

She stood, arms folded, and walked to the window. Jianjun
noticed her cell phone on her desk. He scooted his chair as close as possible.
He palmed his own phone and punched in the spy monitor access code. The system
would locate her phone and lock onto it, accessing her future usage. “Professor
Rempart,” she said, “was quite interested in following Lewis and Clark. Many
people, I’m sure, contributed to his investigation. PLP donates
to
many educational causes.”

“We know about
The Book of Abraham the Jew
,” Jianjun
said.

She faced him with a cold smile. “And you aren’t laughing? I
am. I know Lionel Rempart went off on a tangent about that book and alchemy,
but I never believed such a book existed, let alone was lost in Idaho! If that
was the real reason for Professor Rempart’s expedition, I’m sorry I authorized
one penny to him. The last thing I expected was for him to drag along a bunch
of students and then get lost. It’s a horrible tragedy. I pray every day for
their safe return.”

“How did you, or PLP, become involved with Lionel Rempart?”
Jianjun asked. He leaned back in the chair and casually slid his hand and cell
phone in his pocket.

She studied him for a long moment before she answered. “The
professor sent us a proposal asking for assistance to find the site where a
secret expedition that followed Lewis and Clark lived and died. I found it
interesting.
Nothing more.”

 “I understand many unique and useful drugs have been
discovered by studying ancient herbs and medicines,” Jianjun said.

Vandenburg frowned. “If you think we were expecting to find
medicine used by those adventurers, you are completely mistaken. Besides, drugs
today are mostly synthetic, produced after decades of research and
experimentation.”