.
The Crown had been there for seven days before the first rumours began to spread of the Crown's ability to heal. Apparently, there had been two reported incidents of miraculous healings in the team led by Jim Stuart.
The first had been a simple acid burn, where one of the ‘J’ team had burned himself very badly by accidentally spilling acid on his wrist. The careless scientist had the wound chemically treated, and wrapped in surgical gauze and bandages, but the pain had been excruciating. His skin had been scarred for life, and the doctors had warned him that a skin graft would be advisable in the months or years to come. The scientist in question was a practising Christian, and one evening he had entered the lab where the Crown was being kept and had paused for prayer in front of the glass security case where the Crown had been housed. He had prayed for peace from the pain, and had reached out his left hand to touch the glass casing of the Crown. As he touched the glass he had felt a warmth spreading up through his finger tips to his hand and wrist, and the pain had vanished. In the morning when the doctor had removed the bandages to dress the burn, the skin was found to be intact and whole, the burnt skin having vanished without a trace.
The second healing was more significant, and one which had both scared and impressed all those in the ‘J’ team. The ‘D’ team had denounced it as a trick, and as a subversive tactic to throw their group off focus. But secretly they were also scared and several of the team had started to read their holy books in the evening during their relaxation periods.
The ‘miracle’ as it had come to be known, was performed on an unsuspecting younger member of the team, who had been wheelchair bound since being involved in a car accident eight years before. During the accident his spinal column had been damaged and nerve signals no longer got through to his legs and feet. As well as confining him to a wheelchair, the accident had removed him of his ability to perform as a man, and there had been no signs of life in that department since the day he had come out of the coma. It was two months before he had opened his eyes, and the doctors had said it was a miracle that he had regained consciousness.
The ‘miracle’ had left Ronny Witterstand both angry and suicidal, and he had sworn often and publicly that he would rather have died than become the shell of the man he now was. His mother had nursed him for over a year, and it was only after his former employer, the Institute for Genetic Research at Irvine in California, had offered him his old job back that Ronny had regained some of his self respect. Since then he had lost himself in the world of genetics, and had spent years determined to find a way to re-grow the damaged nerve cells so that he would be able to help himself and people like himself regain the use of their limbs.
During all this time his mother had prayed for him daily, praying that one day the miracle would be completed and her son would walk through the door of her house unaided and cured.
The ‘miracle’ itself had manifested itself in a strange way, and had led one of the more cynical members of the team to quote the saying ‘ God works in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform”. The rumour went that Ronny had been working with the Crown to prepare it for the extraction of some residue samples. Wearing suitably padded gloves he had held it momentarily in his hands, as it was transferred from one special padded container to another. Although he'd reported nothing untoward at the time, about an hour later he had been pushing his wheelchair down the hallway and had passed the entrance to the women’s changing room.
As one of his female colleagues had come out of the door he had momentarily been able to see inside the women’s toilet area and had seen one of the other female scientists adjusting the stocking top on one of her legs.
The simple sight of her long exposed thigh had caused a reaction within Ronny’s trousers that he hadn’t experienced in years. A full-blown erection had appeared which to his eternal embarrassment had refused to go away. After three hours he had tried to encourage its rapid departure by taking a cold shower. However as he had pushed himself into the shower of cold water, erection and all, he found he had misjudged the temperature of the water and with a sharp intake of breath and a loud scream he had jumped to his feet and sprung quickly away from his wheelchair.
Astounded that he was once again on two feet he had pushed his wheelchair himself into the common room of the Team ‘J’, crying profusely, naked and still carrying the largest erection the other team members had ever seen.
With special permission the next day he had flown home to his mother’s house and on his own two feet, without crutches and with no sign of a limp or any disability, he had walked through her front door carrying a bouquet of flowers.
.
Chapter Thirty Eight
The Meeting Room
Level 3, I.G.E.G.G.M Laboratory
Oxford, England
.
The Professor and Louisa were first in the lab on the Tuesday morning, and amid a few more tears and consolatory words from the Professor they waited for the others. Jason was first to arrive and was just about to ‘bunny up’ when the Professor stuck his head out of the meeting room door and called,
“Emergency meeting. Don’t bother with that for just now. Any idea where Don is?”
“No, but he’s always here before 8.45am. Should be here any minute now!”
Almost as if on cue, Don walked out of the elevator at the end of the corridor and passed the security guards, smiling and waving briefly as Jason acknowledged him and pointed at the meeting room. He was a minute behind Jason, and as soon as he had his seat the Professor announced rather gravely.
“We have a problem. We’ve been found out and spied on by the Americans...” Jason started to interrupt, but the Professor lifted a hand to intercept his questions. “…Since you’re going to find out eventually, the truth is probably best from the start. The fact is, Louisa’s boyfriend over at the Physics lab turns out to be an undercover agent for the States. He hypnotised Louisa, and following his instructions, she gave him the real Crown last weekend, and he swapped it for a fake. So, the one we’re giving back to the Frenchies this afternoon is not the real one. The real one is probably in America by now!”
He left it a moment for it to sink in, and Louisa started to cry again. The Professor put his hand briefly on her shoulder to console her, then continued.
“The first thing to make clear is that under no circumstance must we tell the French. The fake Crown will go back with all the reports that I’ve compiled from your work, and these documents will declare that it is does indeed come from the time period and geographical location that we understand to be where the crucifixion took place. After that, as far as I’m concerned they can stick the fake Crown in a glass case in the Louvre and have a million tourists look at it every year just like the Mona Lisa. I hope that’s clear.”
A round of nodding heads.
“The important thing is what we do now…I think we have no option but to tell the British government what has happened. MI6 and MI5 need to know what the American bunch have done.”
Silence for a moment. Then the first murmurings of revolution came from Don.
“Why? Let’s think what we’re trying to achieve here. I think this project has gone beyond mere science. Over the past few months, well, this isn’t just an experiment to make a clone anymore. This is about something far more important…something spiritual...”
Don had begun to blush, scared he was about to say something that would make him look foolish in front of the rest of the group.
“Go on Don, what is it you’re trying to say?” The Prof. urged him on, flashing him one of his encouraging smiles.
“Okay, fact is, before the Crown arrived I was pretty much an agnostic, but over the past couple of months something has changed within me. I can’t tell you what, but well, basically, I think I’ve found God!” He waited for a big reaction from the others, laughter or something, but there was just silence. Don continued.
“…God...as in I’ve found a faith in something
bigger and more meaningful than science. And it’s all because of the Crown. I’m pretty much convinced now…no, let me be straight here, I’m certain, that the Crown really was the Crown of Thorns, and that it really did sit on Jesus Christ’s head, and that the guy called Jesus did exist! Which means that we are not just messing around with chromosomes and DNA. Our group is involved in something bigger than anything we could possibly have imagined. This little core team is trying to bring back Jesus Christ…It’s almost as if everything we do is blessed. So far, it seems as if we can’t go wrong! This thing IS going to happen you know, I can feel it in my bones. Last thing before I go to sleep at night, first thing when I wake up. What we’re doing here has real purpose! You Mathew, Louisa, Jason…and me…we’re going to make the Second Coming happen! And now we have a responsibility not to any government or church, but to ourselves and to mankind, and to God!”
Whether the others were just stunned by the passion with which Don had spoken, or by the content of his little speech, Don didn’t know. But no one said anything for a while. It was Jason who spoke next.
“I think that Don has something. Being Jewish, I can’t say that I’ve been affected in the same way that Don obviously has, but I have felt something. I think we all have. Okay, so let's think for a second about what Don just said. I agree, this work goes beyond national boundaries. It’s about creating a clone of Christ. Jesus Christ. Which for Christian Western society means ‘the most important person in human history’...”
“....Even if it doesn’t all work, or we find out that we’re just living in cloud cuckoo land…which we’re not…and we end up just producing a perfectly normal human clone from blood from some unlucky Centurion or some other person crucified round about the same time as Christ…even if that happens, we still owe a duty to the life we bring into the world. We can’t hand him over to the authorities to be brain washed and controlled and put in a cage to be examined all his life by other scientists like ourselves. No, we simply can’t do that!...”
“...So what if the Americans have stolen the Crown? There’s no guarantee that they will succeed in making a clone of anything. And if they do, the poor little guy will get the full indoctrination thing from the CIA and the NSA or whatever they call themselves nowadays...No…when our clone is delivered into this world, we’ve got to give the little guy a chance to grow up normally, free from any outside influences. Free to experience the world as it is...” Jason looked around the room to see if the others were still following him.
“... If he is just a normal little boy, then he’ll play in the streets with a tin can like any other and grow up and become an accountant or something, but if, and just imagine Don’s right, …if we’re lucky and the little guy does turn out to be the clone of the Son of God or the Messiah we Jews have been waiting for for thousands of years, then we’ve got to make sure He’ll grow up to fulfil His destiny, experiencing the real world as it is, and not be warped by the politics and the international pressures, and the crap that the government agencies would fill His head with. No, the fact of the matter is that we would achieve nothing by telling the authorities about our cloning programme. Nothing. But there could be a lot to gain from not telling anyone.”
Everyone turned to the Professor. This was his lab, and he was the senior and most respected person there. He had the most to lose. The choice was his. Louisa turned to him.
“I’m sorry I’ve done this...I’m really sorry…but I agree with Don and Jason. We’ve got to think of the baby that we’ll create. I’ve never really had any strong maternal instinct before, but listening to Jason and what he just said stirred something within me. We can’t let the authorities know what we’re doing, because they’ll take the child when he’s born. And no parent could ever hand across a baby to a life of being manipulated and moulded to their master’s voice like that. We have to ensure the baby clone will be given a fair chance in life…or we stop the programme right now!”
“That’s not an option," the Professor immediately replied. "Now the Americans might be making their own clone, we’ve got an even greater obligation to make a clone that will grow up free in a free society, and I agree that that won’t happen if we tell the British Government what we’re just about to do. And anyway, I agree with Don. The work we’re doing is something that we are meant to be doing. What we’re doing is something special. Very special. It’s not often that I’d admit it, but you young guys are right. My old age must have dulled my brain. So, we won’t tell anyone about this then, will we?”
Everyone smiled. Then Louisa shifted nervously in her seat and stood up, pacing round the room.
“We’ve still got a problem though…I’m meant to be providing the Americans with a copy of the process that Jason has developed for isolating the DNA from blood and reproducing the full chromosome set from it. I’m meant to hand it over next Friday!?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Mike hypnotises me when I see him, and he gives me instructions to carry out...except the last time when he was doing it, the phone rang in his flat and woke me up mid session...he didn’t realise I was out of the trance and he carried on…I was fully awake and heard everything he said to me. Anyway, while he thought I was hypnotised, but wasn’t, he told me to get a copy of all Jason's notes and hand it over to them…That’s when I realised what I’d done and went straight to the Professor!”
“…yeah…At five o’clock in the morning...this morning!” the Professor added.
“You guys must be knackered!”
“…is the understatement of the year. Anyway, what do we do now?” Louisa asked, sitting back down in her chair.
“So, my take on this is that you have to be straight up with the guy and tell him he’s been rumbled, that it’s all over and that he won’t get anything more from you. Otherwise, what’s the point in carrying on the illusion? He’ll just keep pushing you for information...once you start, there’ll be no end to it!”
“I agree, we can’t ask Louisa to keep seeing the guy. I’ll go with her to meet him and tell him the game’s over…” the Professor volunteered. “Don’t worry Louisa, we’ll sort it out together.”
.
Chapter Thirty Nine
The Department of Engineering
Oxford University
Parks Road, Oxford
.
The Professor and Louisa marched into the University Engineering lab, and finding that the elevator still hadn’t been fixed, climbed the stairs to Mike’s office. It was twelve o’clock and Mike was just coming out of his office and heading off to lunch. He was in the process of locking his office door when he turned and saw Louisa and the Professor heading towards him down the corridor.
“Oops…I smell trouble...” He whispered to himself. It didn’t take a highly trained agent to see that the look on Louisa’s face meant business. Serious business.
“Louisa, it’s great to see you....” he said, trying to kiss her.
“Mike…don’t” she whispered back, turning her head to the side so that his kiss glanced off her ear. “I’ve brought my friend Professor Wainright along. We want to talk to you. Alone...”
“I guess we could use my office.” Mike replied, recovering his composure quickly from the spurned kiss.
“This won’t take long.” The Professor spoke, his voice dry, quick and very serious.
“So, take a seat. Fancy a coffee, or something a little harder?” Mike said, ushering them into to his room, and waiving at the chairs.
“No thanks.” The Professor waited for Mike to sit down.
“We’re not here to waste your time young man, so I’ll just get straight to the point. Louisa came to me last night after she left your flat. She told me everything. What you don’t know is that when you tried to hypnotise her last night she was wide awake. Woken by a telephone call from one of your CIA buddies.”
“What are you talking about?” Mike replied, panic immediately rising in his chest. He glanced towards t
he door to check if it was completely closed.
“Mike, I heard every word you said to me…I know you made me tell you everything, and that you hypnotised me to swap the Crown with a fake that you gave me…the Professor has even got it all on video disk, including some from an outside camera with you seen clearly sitting at the wheel of the car, waiting for me to get in and give you the Crown of Thorns.” Louisa started to cry. “…How could you do that to me? I was in love with you! You cheated me...you lied to me…raped me…abused me! How could you do that? How?” and she burst into tears as once again a wave of emotion rushed over her.
Mike sat there without saying a word. His face had gone bright red, and if the Professor hadn’t known better, he would have thought that tears were beginning to form in the corner’s of Mike’s eyes.
“Louisa...”
“Don’t even start to explain young man. We don’t want to know. We just want to tell you that you can just forget about the information you asked her for on the Haissem project. From now on you’ll keep away from Louisa. Away. Not a word. If she ever sees you again, or if you come within ten feet of her, MI6 will pick you up the same day, and you will disappear. Just disappear. Cappito?” The Professor could be a hard man when he wanted to be. “And you can tell your buddies in the NSA or CIA or whoever you are, that they have forty eight hours to get you out of Oxford and on a plane back stateside, or I’ll blow the whistle on you and the British Government will take over...”
The look of shock and pain on Mike’s face appeared to be genuine and for a second, just a fraction of a second, the Professor wondered if they were missing something or had somehow got it all wrong.
“No...no…I can’t do it...” And Mike looked at Louisa, jumping from his chair and hurrying around his desk to kneel beside her chair. “Louisa, I love you. I need you. I’m telling you the truth…”
Louisa appeared confused. For a second she hesitated and Mike saw the opportunity and went for it.
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