The Celtic Conspiracy (29 page)

“Yes, Madam President, I’ll take care of it. What about your appointment in the Cabinet Room?”

“Cancel it, and tell MacClary that he has until six tonight to show up here. Oh, and another thing. I need tomorrow’s speech by eight tonight. I’m going to need to make some changes.”

* * *

MacClary hung up the phone and looked resignedly out his window at the dome of the Capitol. As they had hoped, Boston had dismissed the case due to lack of evidence. The call he had just received from the White House hinted that the judge in Boston had acted so quickly because someone in Washington had lent a helping hand.

The first summons to the White House had been extended in a relatively friendly fashion. This one sounded much more like a command. What in the devil had gotten into the president? He had taken her completely into his confidence. Would she crumble after all out of fear of public opinion?

He was interrupted by the ringing of his doorbell. He stood up slowly and walked to the door.

“Adam, Deborah, Jennifer. Come in.”

“Guess what, Ronald?” Adam said. “The head of the institute confirmed in his report that the parchment comes from the same period as the trove we found in Austria. The pollen and radiocarbon analysis can’t lie. Exactly as we had hoped! It’s proof that it came from the cave.”

MacClary looked at him, confused. Then he shook his head to clear it and come back to the present. “Excuse me, I was somewhere else. First off, my hearty congratulations to you both. I have to say, you both showed a great deal of courage doing this.”

“And we needed it when they were shooting at us,” Deborah added.

MacClary gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? That means they know you were there! Damn it!” MacClary slammed his fist against the wall.

“That’s unlikely,” Deborah said, “since we were only there a few seconds. We had just enough time to take some photos, grab one of the scrolls, and get out of there. If we’re lucky, they won’t notice anything missing.”

“Well, there’s nothing to be done. We can’t waste any time.”

Jennifer walked over to his desk, where she saw the fax from the district court in Boston. “When did you get this?”

“A few minutes ago. I should have called you right away.”

“But this is what you wanted,” Jennifer said in astonishment. “I’ll pass on everything to the Supreme Court tonight and then—”

“Wait, Jennifer. I just got an unpleasant call from the White House, and I can assure you it wasn’t a casual invitation to tea. Something isn’t right there. I’ll need your help now to move forward. So I’d like to ask you all to come with me to the White House.”

* * *

“I hope the president is aware that you aren’t coming alone,” Axton said politely.

“No, but she’ll soon find out,” MacClary answered with a slightly arrogant grin.

“As you wish.”

When they found themselves standing in front of the president a bit later, Shane could feel his hands starting to sweat.

“Ronald, what is the meaning of this?” the president asked sharply.

“Madam President, may I introduce you to Adam Shane and Deborah Walker, two of the three people who
were involved in retrieving the artifacts in Austria,” MacClary said confidently. “And Jennifer Wilson, a lawyer friend of mine who has joined with the district attorney in Boston as a prosecutor of the case in Thomas Ryan’s name. He has been missing since the retrieval of the documents we’ve discussed in Austria and is supposedly being hunted down in Italy as a terrorist, an apparent use of targeted misinformation from the Vatican.”

“Stop, Ronald! This can’t all be true! I personally spoke with the pope today on the telephone and—”

“And he will have knowingly or unknowingly avoided telling you the whole truth,” MacClary said, trying to preempt an accusation.

“The Vatican wants to ensure that they are not connected with the events in Austria. The responsibility for the so-called attack belongs with a one-time member of the Vatican police, who was relieved of duty last year and—”

“Excuse me, Madam President, but that is impossible.” Shane heard his own voice sounding unnaturally loud in the room before he was even conscious of the fact that he had spoken. “We were able to obtain proof that certain artifacts from the Magdalensberg cave, which would cause quite a stir when viewed in the light of Church history, are being kept in a Vatican archive.”

“Is this true, Ronald?”

MacClary hesitated for a moment. “Yes, Madam President, and that means that the Vatican is quite definitely
behind this. They didn’t have all the facts in Boston and were apparently not all that concerned with motive.”

“How do you know they have all the facts in Rome? Do you think I always know what my ministers, my party, or the CIA are fighting out behind my back? Do you know how often I have to back a decision that I know nothing about and that I still have to accede to? So much for the power of my office, Ronald.”

Ronald was well aware of the exposed position Diana was in, and it almost made him sorry that this had all come up during her tenure. On the other hand, she had the fighting spirit the situation needed.

“Diana, that’s not the whole story. I’d like to ask for your trust. Let us explain everything to you now.”

The president balled up her fists. Then she went to her desk and pressed the speaker button of her telephone. “Bill? I’m not to be disturbed for the next half hour,” she said before turning back to her visitors with a sigh.

Ryan sat on the terrace, a glass of red wine in his hand, as he looked at the gorgeous Italian Alps. In the midday light, enveloped in fog, they looked like giant watchmen, millions of years old. How small and insignificant these couple of thousand years had been when humankind, in its egocentric way, believed it could rule the planet, instead of living in natural harmony with the earth. He needed to keep reminding himself that an increasing number of people were becoming aware of this. Langster had brought him to a friend, a very wealthy doctor, who had treated his wounds and given him a place to stay where he could recover for at least a bit. The whole time he was plagued by thoughts about what had happened. How was he going to explain to the others why he had been labeled a terrorist? Langster had forbidden him to pick up the phone, but he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Well, how does it feel to be a member of one of the oldest families in the world?” Langster joked as he sat across from him.

“Oh, better, much better. But it doesn’t seem to be sitting all that well with other people.”

“I’m sorry, but I need a couple more days to get you back to Washington safely. You’re still on the Italian police’s wanted list. The doctor has said he’s willing to take you to Washington in his private jet as soon as it’s possible, and then—”

The thought of more time out of contact made Ryan’s heart lurch. “Brian, I can’t wait that long. There’s too much at stake. I have to at least let them know that I’m alive.”

Langster said nothing for a second and then locked eyes with Ryan. “Of course. Here, here’s my cell phone. Try to keep it under a minute.” In Ireland, he had always had a reputation for being exceedingly cautious. His successes spoke for themselves; no one had yet been able to track him down.

“Thank you, Brian, I’ll be brief.”

* * *

After a good hour, Shane, Deborah, Jennifer, and Ronald left the president’s office. All of them were beaming. Even MacClary’s relief was written all over his face.

“Ronald, you can depend on my people,” the president had said. “We’ll find Thomas Ryan and bring him safely home as soon as he gets to the airport.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this before?” Jennifer asked when they got into the corridor. She was still completely bewildered by the information that Ronald had kept to himself until now.

“Quite simply, I promised. And please, Jennifer, not a word to Ms. Copendale. She knows him and has no idea about his past. That goes for you two as well.”

Deborah nodded obediently. Shane didn’t say anything. In the last hour, the president had honestly and bluntly admitted how limited their options really were and how powerful Rome’s influence still was. Even in the United States, elections were still won based on religious faith.

But what had impressed Shane the most was the president’s idea of a shift in economic policy. She’d had several books open on her desk written by the most renowned scientific philosophers and alternative economic theorists. It all boiled down to a complete renunciation of an economy based on growth. The president’s ideas about a new worldwide ethic were a revelation to Shane, a revelation that he had given up believing could be possible.

Ronald and Shane had been able to convince her to play along, but the game was a long way from being won. Ryan was still missing, maybe even dead. They had no idea what Rome had up its sleeve to make it look like its hands were clean. That left only Ronald’s secret source—and even that was unpredictable.

“If she gives this speech in front of the United Nations, she’ll be out of the game,” Ronald commented, a bit too coldly for Shane’s taste.

“You will be too, Ronald,” Shane replied.

“What? Yes, that’s possible, but I’m assuming that the president will be giving one justice after the other a good talking to and that she will insist on them following their juristic obligations and not their beliefs. What was that text you gave her that helped changed her mind?”

“In the last few days I have felt so completely overwhelmed by everything that’s happened, and after I was shot at for the first time in my life, I could suddenly sense Ryan. Now don’t look at me like that. I really did sense him, as if he were right there next to me. It was eerie, but I was stomping around in his past...” Shane trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I was thinking about the symbol in the chamber again, the spiral of life, and about what Ryan had told me about the field of memories, in which everything that has ever happened is stored in what amounts to an enormous databank. If I correctly understand the parchment of the Druids that deals with space and time, each one of us can travel in this spiral of time. We can use our experiences if we seize the information and if we are open to the possibility of understanding history not in a linear path, but as the sum of all experiences. The more people who do this, the more this experience will escalate, until it has reached a critical mass that is prepared to develop a new consciousness from the sum of these experiences.”

“Not necessarily a new consciousness, Adam,” Deborah added, “but in any case one that is bound with a life
characterized by balance and harmony with the land and the earth. The end of all the bedlam.”

Shane nodded vigorously. “Exactly. There would come a moment when a high official, an ideal ruler, in an historic or mystical instant would grab the world’s attention by initiating a noble and benevolent government. This government would escape the confines of time and space because of its experience and love for creation. It will find itself at a point of intersection where it will have to act with integrity and authenticity.”

Ronald looked at him, astonished. “That’s what Thomas has been talking about for years.”

“But what does that have to do with the president?” Deborah asked.

“She is standing at the point of intersection. Her willingness to act, without thinking about her own ego, for the benefit of all life, is what the Druids called the King of Worlds.”

“And the Christians called him the Messiah,” Deborah added.

“Yes. It’s just that the Church has completely distorted this, and in so doing, has actually prevented the coming of the Messiah. We’re not talking about a person or even a form, but about the coming of a new consciousness that can realize its potential in each one of us. It doesn’t matter which religion you look at: the Messiah, the Savior, or the good ruler, they’re all really just synonyms for humankind’s longing for a higher consciousness. That means
that the president herself is no shining light; she is just the point of intersection where everything connects. Just like in set theory.”

Shane felt as though he could suddenly understand everything. That’s what the return of the Druids meant: a state of consciousness that made it impossible to go against the laws of nature and balance. People had to take responsibility for their own salvation.

“She will give the speech,” Ronald said, “I’m sure of it. Now I understand why she finds the impending conflict with Rome so useful.”

“But Adam, why do you think the president is this person?” Jennifer asked.

Shane shrugged. “I just know. I can’t give you any other reason. That’s the vision I had. And to get back to your earlier question, that’s why I greeted her with the short, inspirational greeting of our ancestors.”

* * *

Just then Ronald’s cell phone rang.

“MacClary.”

“Ronald, it’s Thomas.”

“My God, Thomas! Where in the devil are you? Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? The latest news reports were a shock for all of us, and—”