THE MAHABHARATA QUEST:THE ALEXANDER SECRET (21 page)

50

328
bc

Balkh, present day Afghanistan

‘What is troubling you, my dear Callisthenes?’ Alexander beamed at the historian. ‘Things are going the way they should. My plan is working. We have conquered Persia. Subdued the tribes of Bactria. Even vanquished the mighty Sogdian rock.’ He put an arm around Callisthenes. ‘And you, my dear historian; you have accomplished the great mission I sent you upon. The greatest mission of all. The one that will make me a god!’ The young conqueror slid his arm off the historian’s shoulders and looked at him. ‘You are troubled. Of that I have no doubt. Tell me why. I must know.’

Callisthenes held Alexander’s gaze but hesitated. The fate of Clitus was fresh in his mind. This was not the Alexander with whom he had set forth from Macedonia to conquer the Persian empire. That had been a young man who had decided to build upon his father’s dreams and conquests. Who had the audacity and the courage to take on the mightiest empire in the world. And who had the charisma to get his troops to follow him through intense cold and starvation, and fight fatigue and thirst across thousands of miles. For
that
Alexander, Callisthenes would have willingly forfeited his life.

But the Alexander who stood before him today was different. Was it his success that had made him arrogant? First the fall of Darius, then the capture of Bessus — the murderer of Darius and claimant to the Persian throne — and finally, the conquest of the Sogdian rock and, with it, sovereignty over the Bactrian tribes… This was enough to turn the mind of a mature man. And Alexander was still young.

Or was it the secret mission that Alexander had harboured ever since he left Macedonia? Callisthenes hadn’t known about it until a few months ago, when Alexander briefed him on the assignment in the Bactrian forests and across the Oxus river. When Bessus had decided to flee across the Hindu Kush and take refuge in Bactria, this had provided Alexander with the perfect opportunity to march the entire army across the mountains and into Bactria.

With all the fighting that happened, including the first ever defeat Alexander suffered since he set off on his journey of conquest, no one had noticed Callisthenes leave the camp and disappear for days on end. Events had conspired to work in Alexander’s favour.

Maybe he truly was the son of Zeus and his divine father was looking out for him. But Callisthenes felt that still did not give Alexander the right to act the way he did.

‘Sire,’ he began cautiously, ‘you are a changed man.’

‘Indeed I am,’ Alexander slapped the historian’s back cheerfully. As was usual nowadays, the conqueror had drunk a lot of wine and was in an exuberant mood.

And Callisthenes had seen how swiftly that mood could change to one that was dark and vengeful.

‘Maybe we should talk about this some other time,’ he suggested, not wanting to arouse Alexander’s ire. There was no way he could provide his king with a truthful answer without annoying him.

And Callisthenes did not lie to his king. He might have overreached in his writings about the conqueror and woven fact with fantasy, all the more to increase the glory of his king. But to his king he would be honest. That was his way.

Alexander looked him in the eye. ‘So,’ the conqueror rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘My historian has something to say. Something that he feels I will not like.’

Callisthenes hated it when Alexander was this perceptive, which was very often. He said nothing.

‘Come on, Callisthenes,’ Alexander urged. ‘Do you think I have drunk too much wine? That I cannot hear what you have to say? You are my respected historian. Why, no one else has my ear the way you do! Speak up, man, and tell me what is troubling you! Come, I promise you that I will hear you out.’

Callisthenes realised that he was cornered. Any further attempt at postponing this conversation would imply an answer in the positive to all the negative thoughts Alexander had in his mind.

‘Very well, my King,’ Callisthenes took a deep breath. ‘It is your announcement that worries me. That you wish to be worshipped as a God using the Persian rituals.’

Alexander laughed, his laughter echoing off the walls. ‘And you do not agree?’

Callisthenes was silent.

Alexander looked thoughtful. ‘Why do you feel it is wrong?’ he asked finally. ‘You are the one who has announced to the world that I am the son of Zeus-Ammon. Your book, which will write history one day, tells of the proclamation of the Oracle at Siwa about my divinity. You write of the parting of the sea.’ He cocked his head and looked at Callisthenes. ‘Remember? And there is more.’ Alexander put a hand on Callisthenes’ shoulder. ‘You believe that I am a god, Callisthenes. Surely you cannot lie when you write. And if you believe that I am a god, what can you find wrong in my asking my people to worship me as one?’

Callisthenes did not respond. He realised that he did not have an answer for Alexander. Everything that his king had said was true. Except the part about Callisthenes believing in Alexander’s divinity. But how could he tell the conqueror that his book was an exercise in flattery? To ensure his status in Alexander’s court even after he truly became a god?

‘Your silence is disturbing.’ Alexander became contemplative. ‘Am I to take that as assent? Or as dissent? Only you can tell me. I have heard you out as I promised.’

‘What you have said, sire, is true.’ Callisthenes struggled to find a way out of this mess. ‘Every word is true.’ He dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘But, my king, the mission is not yet complete. Only when you reach the secret location and drink of the waters as instructed, will you truly become a god! Not now. Not yet.’

Alexander’s eyes flashed. ‘So you think I am not a god until I have followed every step of the map that my mother gave me?’

Callisthenes lowered his eyes.

Alexander correctly interpreted that as meaning that the answer to his question was “yes”.

‘And what of my divine birth? Does my mother lie when she says she slept with Zeus? You know I cannot be the son of that filthy scum Philip!’ Alexander’s fury was growing with every word he uttered. ‘And the words of the Oracle at Siwa – do they mean nothing to you? Is that a lie as well?’

They were passing a wooden table with a bronze plate balanced atop the legs. Alexander bent down and flung the bronze plate down the corridor, trying to vent his rage. ‘And just who are you, Callisthenes, to pass judgement on my birth and divinity? A historian, that is all! Your job is to record events as they pass. To ensure that history will know what happened. Not to pass judgement. Never forget that I am your king. Your life is in my hands. Just like the life of every subject in my kingdom. Which now stretches from Macedonia to Bactria. Is that not the power of a god? To take away life? ’

Callisthenes realised that the moment to restrain the conversation was past. He knew his king only too well. Alexander had already passed a sentence on the historian. He knew he was condemned. And in the face of death, he did not wish to appear cowardly.

‘The power of a god,’ he said calmly to his raging king, ‘is not to take away but to give life. And that is something that you have failed to do.’

Alexander’s fury turned into a raging inferno. ‘I am Alexander! I don’t need you or your approval to be worshipped as a god,’ he shouted as his anger took over his senses. ‘I don’t need your secret ingredients to be a god. I am a god and will be worshipped as one. Damn you and anyone who thinks otherwise! Guards!’

Callisthenes stood and looked Alexander in the eye. ‘Patroclus was a far better man than you, Alexander. But still death did not spare him.’

The guards came up and held Callisthenes as Alexander smiled cruelly. ‘You know,’ he told the historian. ‘I can see now where the pageboys got their courage to try and assassinate me. Only someone who was very close to me could have given them the motivation to rebel. And the opportunity. I wondered who it was. But now I know. It was you, Callisthenes. And tomorrow, you shall be tried for it. The penalty for treason is crucifixion. You know that well. Goodbye, my friend.’

He turned around to stalk away but Callisthenes was not done yet. Alexander froze at the last words of the historian as he was dragged away by the guards.

‘You may pretend to be a god, Alexander. You may believe you are a god. But you will never be a god. You will die before you return to Macedonia! Never will you set foot in your homeland again!’

51

PRESENT DAY

DAY FIVE

Alexander’s secret

‘You’re joking!’ Radha couldn’t help herself. This was stretching the limits of credibility. ‘Alexander’s body disappeared from Alexandria hundreds of years ago. Everyone knows that.’

‘In the 4
th
century
ad
actually,’ Saxena corrected her. ‘To be more exact, around 391
ad
. The Order stole his mummy from Alexandria and buried it in another location where it would be protected from desecration.’

‘But the Order desecrated his body anyway by subjecting it to pathological tests that extracted a virus and a bacterium.’ Radha realised that the Order only cared about one thing. Itself. Nothing was sacred. Nothing was out of bounds. Like the facility she was imprisoned in. She realised now, as she put the facts together, that these two pathogens were the very ones that had shown up in the tests Imran had told them about. Saxena and his team were testing the unknown pathogens on unsuspecting volunteers. Sentencing them to a sure death. And a slow one. She felt her anger rise and tried to quell it. She wasn’t sure if the drugs they had given her earlier had worn off their effects. It wouldn’t do to have a fit of rage at the moment. She could hurt herself badly now that she
wasn’t restrained.

Saxena shrugged. ‘Well, it had to be done for the advancement of science,’ he replied in a matter of fact tone. ‘Anyway, these two organisms hold the secret that will help us build another shield against disease.’

‘I still don’t get it.’ Radha’s disbelief was evident in her tone and expression. ‘You say Alexander went searching for this great secret. He found it. Yet, two years later he was dead. And all the victims of the clinical trials exhibited the same symptoms as Alexander after a few years. These organisms only bring death.’

‘That’s where you are wrong!’ Saxena hissed, his annoyance apparent now. ‘These organisms give life! What you see on the computer screen here are not the original organisms that infected him. The retrovirus is a bacteriophage. A virus that infects bacteria.’

He changed the image on the screen. ‘Viruses cannot replicate by themselves. They need to hijack host cells in order to replicate. This is the virus replication process.’ He indicated the diagram on the screen. ‘A virus attaches itself to the target cell and then penetrates the cell wall of the host cell through either fusion with the cell membrane or translocation of the viral genetic material across the host cell membrane. Once the host cell has been penetrated, the virus uses the cellular machinery of the host cell to replicate and make functional and structural viral proteins. The newly formed viral nucleic acid and structural proteins are then brought together to form the nucleocapsid of the virus. The newly formed viruses or virions are then released through a process called cell lysis which leads to the bursting of the host cell to release the virions. This also leads to the death of the host cell.’

Another image appeared on the screen. ‘The virus we are dealing with,’ Saxena continued, ‘is a retrovirus. Its genetic information is encoded by RNA rather than DNA. A retrovirus also contains an RNA dependent DNA polymerase, which is a reverse transcriptase, which enables the synthesis of a DNA form of the viral genome after infection of a host cell.’

He stopped as he saw the blank expression on Radha’s face. It was clear that she hadn’t understood a word of what he had just said. ‘Okay,’ he tried again. ‘You understand that in all organisms, genetic information is encoded in DNA which is double stranded, right? Well, in retroviruses, genetic information is encoded by RNA which is single stranded. Normally, in any organism, when genetic information has to be duplicated during cell replication, DNA gets transcribed to RNA which then conveys the genetic information required to create proteins to replicate the DNA.’

Saxena paused to see if Radha was still with him. She nodded and he continued. ‘In retrovirus replication, however, the RNA has to be converted to DNA which is why it is called reverse transcription. Which is why the reverse transcriptase protein is required – to enable this process. Once the retrovirus is internalised by the host cell, its RNA is released and reverse transcribed into single stranded DNA. This single stranded DNA is then further reverse transcribed into double stranded proviral DNA. This provirus is inserted into the genome of the host cell using another enzyme from the virus – called integrase – and then transcribed into RNA. The RNA gets translated, as is done in normal replication, to produce proteins necessary to build a new virus and virions assemble and are extruded from the host cell.’

Radha began to see why Saxena was going into so much detail. ‘So a retrovirus actually becomes part of the host cell genome?’

‘Exactly. That’s when lifelong infection begins. Retroviruses have the ability to acquire and alter the structure of host cell sequences. They can even insert themselves into the germ line genome of the host cell and behave as a transposable or moveable element. Which means that they are pieces of DNA that can jump around in the host genome at random, altering the host genome in the process and causing mutations in the host DNA. They can activate or inactivate genes near the site of penetration into the genome. They can even rapidly alter their own genome by recombination and mutation under selective environmental stimuli. Which is why the HIV virus is so deadly. It is a retrovirus. And it can turn on DNA that is usually dormant in healthy people.’

Radha’s head was spinning. She tried to make sense of all the information she had just received. ‘I get it. But if a retrovirus is so deadly, how can it help build a shield against disease?’