The Cotten Stone Omnibus: It started with The Grail Conspiracy... (The Cotten Stone Mysteries)

by Lynn Sholes

  Moving down the line of switches, Gearhart caused a new face to appear on each monitor. They included a former deputy commander of the Soviet Army and current chairman of the Department of Defense for the Russian Federation; a cabinet minister to Her Majesty’s government; the chief justice of the French Supreme Court; the German minister of finance in Berlin; and the president and founder of GlobalStar in Vienna, Europe’s largest telecommunications network.

  “Can all of you see and hear me clearly?” Sinclair asked.

  There were nods along with verbal confirmations from the seven faces filling the video screens. “Then let us begin.” Turning his attention to the Chancellor, he said, “Hans?”

  “Thank you, Charles. I’m proud to report, gentlemen, that of the twenty-seven hundred members of the Council on Foreign Relations, we now influence slightly over ninety percent. These members are networking their people into the U.S. State Department while building relationships with our partner one-world government groups in Canada, Britain, and Japan. This is, of course, a key ingredient to our success because the CFR is committed to the elimination of national boundaries.”

  “Excellent progress,” Sinclair said as the other Guardians reacted.

  The British cabinet minister said, “The other two groups committed to our cause—the Trilateral Commission and Europe’s Bilderberg Group—are both almost totally under our influence. As you know, the Trilateral Commission focuses on financial and political matters while the Bilderbergers are concerned with military and strategic issues. Since some of you or your associates are members of those groups, I don’t have to tell you about our sweeping accomplishments.”

  “Let me comment for a moment, gentlemen, on some developments with the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund,” the Zurich banker said. “A large number of Third World countries defaulting on their huge loans owed to Western banks are now vulnerable to pressure to cooperate with the World Bank and its terms. This is because Trilateral bankers—our bankers—are now in a position to dictate new terms. There’s no other place to go for loans—they have no choice but to use our money. We’re seeing this in action every day. We’re also seeing progress in moving to a cashless society with credit and debit card use growing substantially.”

  “You’re right,” Sinclair said. “The processing of cashless transactions and electronic fund transfer is becoming one of our major sources of revenue, especially in the U.S. We predict a sixty percent market share by the end of the year. Our next step is to put into circulation bar-coded currency.

  “The bar code technology being developed with some of our strategic partners has been perfected for biomedical purposes as well. The new nanobarcodes, the ones made with gold and silver, are so minute that several hundred thousand of them can fit in a single centimeter. You can see the implications—we will use these nanobarcodes to track our citizens.”

  “What is the public response to the introduction of your presidential candidate?” the president of GlobalStar asked.

  “As you know,” Sinclair said, “we have been grooming Robert Wingate for quite some time, and we feel from the initial response that he will do fine.”

  The Russian general spoke. “My intelligence tells me there are personal problems with Wingate that might jeopardize his chances.”

  “I am aware of that. We’re taking appropriate action to resolve these minor issues,” Sinclair said. “We see no reason for changing our timeline or any of our benchmarks.”

  “What of the woman who found the Cup?” the French Chief Justice asked. “Is she a threat?”

  “We are keeping our finger on that, also,” Sinclair answered. “We will keep watch.”

  “And when do you go to the Vatican, Charles?” the president of GlobalStar asked.

  “I will be leaving at the end of the week.”

  “What makes you think you can persuade the cardinal to do what we require?” the GlobalStar president asked.

  “His Eminence wants only one thing in life, and I am the only one who can deliver it to him. At least that is what he will believe.” A smile spread across Sinclair’s face. “Cardinal Inaucci’s weaknesses are his devout faith and his rationale that he is to be rewarded for such devotion.”

  “I hope you are right,” the GlobalStar president said.

  Sinclair rose. “Gentlemen, for centuries, it has been the goal of the Guardians to unite nations into a worldwide empire. The dream of returning to a time not unlike ancient Rome where citizens could travel in safety over thousands of miles while speaking one language, being governed by one set of laws, and supported with a common currency, is about to become reality. We will accomplish this because we are on the threshold of the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. As prophesied, He will return again like a thief in the night—and no one will know the hour or the day. Well, I say to you that we know the day—we will pick the hour. He will lead us into a new age—an age where all will believe in what He says.”

  Sinclair extended his arms. “And he will say exactly what we tell him.”

  “The enormous possibilities of scientific and technological progress, as well as the phenomenon of globalization, which increasingly extends to new fields, demands that we always be open to dialogue with every person, with every social event, with the intention of giving each one a reason for the hope we bear in our heart.”

  —Pope John Paul II—receiving forty-four new cardinals during the consistory, February 21, 2001

  blasphemy

  “Your Eminence, thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.” Charles Sinclair stood in the middle of the cardinal’s office, hand outstretched.

  “How could I say otherwise to a man of your stature?” Cardinal Ianucci came around his desk to greet the Nobel laureate. “It is both an honor and a privilege to be in the presence of such an esteemed scientist, even if we don’t see eye to eye on all the aspects of your research.” He smiled warmly to soften the comment. In fact, Sinclair had been the topic of many heated theoretical and ethical discussions in the halls of the Vatican. The specter of human cloning was one of the most controversial issues facing papal dogma.

  “You are most kind, indeed.” Sinclair shook the cardinal’s hand—in his other hand he held a small, silver, titanium travel case.

  “Please.” Ianucci motioned to an intricately embroidered chair—its legs ending in lions’ claws that appeared to grip the sprawling Oriental rug. Once the cardinal returned to sit behind his desk, he said, “How was your trip?”

  “Splendid. The duck l’orange was memorable.”

  “In-flight gourmet dining is rare these days. The only time I get good airline food is when I fly with the Holy Father.” He chuckled. Wanting to get past the small talk, he asked, “What can the Holy See do for you, Dr. Sinclair?”

  “Perhaps it’s what I can do for you, Your Eminence.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Can you assure me that we will not be interrupted for the next hour?”

  Ianucci glanced at his schedule log before picking up the phone and instructing that he not be disturbed. “You have my undivided attention, Dr. Sinclair. But a half hour is the best I can do.”

  “Then that’s all I can ask.” Sinclair leaned back, put the case in his lap, and rested his hands on top of it. “Do you believe the Bible is truly the word of God?”

  The cardinal covered his mouth and coughed shallowly. “But of course, Dr. Sinclair,” he said, sounding a bit indignant.

  “Then you believe it contains God’s revelation about our ultimate destiny.”

  “I do.”

  Sinclair smiled. “One quarter of the Bible is prophecy, and we must not ignore or reject any of it. Remember what the Apostle Paul said in Acts about the Jews: that because they did not listen to the voices of the Prophets, they actually fulfilled the prophecy by condemning Jesus.”

 
The cardinal leaned forward. “Dr. Sinclair, do you think I rose to this station without knowing what is in the Bible?”

  “Certainly not. And please don’t take offense. But I must prepare you for what I am going to say. I want you to recall the book of Revelation where it says ‘He stands at the door and knocks. If any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him.’ Eminence, I believe that today, God knocks at our door. We mustn’t turn a deaf ear to the prophecies.”

  “I’m finding your Bible study lesson tedious, Dr. Sinclair.”

  “Please bear with me, Eminence. My point will be made clear soon.”

  The cardinal nodded, reluctantly—he had a full schedule today and grew impatient with Sinclair’s patronizing ramblings.

  “Can you describe for me how you envision the Second Coming?” Sinclair asked.

  Ianucci tapped a finger on his thigh. Where was Sinclair going with this? “Interesting question. That seems to be a popular topic these days with so many books being written on the subject—apocalyptic fiction, they call it. Well, in the classical sense we’re taught that Christ will return in a triumphant conquest of good over evil, gathering to His bosom those who have been faithful, and sweeping them into everlasting joy and peace. A good model for Renaissance painters, Dr. Sinclair, but probably not reality.”

  “Exactly.”

  “The fact is that no one knows for sure when or how Christ will return. The prophecy is right there in the Bible, but there are dozens of interpretations. We do agree, however, that many signs of His return are present. Of course time is relative. How soon He will come again is parlayed about by all who study the scriptures. Does that sufficiently answer your question?”

  Smugness set in Sinclair’s eyes. Ianucci cocked his head wondering what brought on such an expression, and why the doctor was delaying his response.

  Finally, Sinclair spoke. “Eminence, I not only know when Christ will return, but how.”

  Ianucci pushed forward. “You mean you have a theory?”

  “Not a theory. I know.”

  “Dr. Sinclair, many men down through the ages spent their lives dedicated to studying and investigating the written word for that single purpose.”

  Again, that faint smile creased surface lines in Sinclair’s face, but he said nothing. It made Ianucci shift in the chair. “You believe you can predict when the Savior will come again, and you have traveled all this way to share that knowledge with me?” the cardinal asked.

  “I must, Your Eminence, because without you, it will not take place.”

  Ianucci leaned back, interlocking his fingers over his stomach. He wondered if the famous scientist had joined the likes of some doomsday cult. The line between genius and insanity . . . He would humor Sinclair for a few more moments before politely ushering him on his way. “I’m listening.”

  “Most who preach the Word of the Lord look at the prophecies as proof of the approaching Apocalypse. But they wrongly fixate on the fire and brimstone in Revelation. We must think of it as God’s promise that He will send His Son again to earth so mankind will finally have peace on earth—heaven on earth. Who’s to say in what manner Christ will return to Earth? What if it’s in a way no one has thought of—a means that mirrors the times, the technology? I believe you and I have been selected—chosen by God to make it happen.

  “I recently had a vision, Eminence. I was awakened in the middle of the night by a brilliant white light. At first I was frightened, but soon, a sense of peace overwhelmed me. I heard a voice—one as clear as my own is now. The voice quoted scripture. ‘The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them . . .’ Are not science and religion often in opposition—the wolf and the lamb? Yet prophecy is that we will lie down together, fuse with a common objective. And like our two disciplines, the world will follow, the calf, the lion, the fatling. Peace is to come. And heed these words especially, a little child shall lead them. It is those words that made God’s plan so unmistakable to me. It clarified what my purpose is on Earth—and yours as well. Since that night, my whole life has changed.”

  “And what is your purpose—and mine?”

  “God has given me great talents, Eminence, just as he has bestowed so many upon you. My knowledge of genetics has allowed me to perfect a method of reproducing a human by using DNA. And God has blessed you with being a great spiritual leader to shepherd Christ’s church and prepare it for the Final Judgment. He has led us, guided us, brought us to this day. Every decision we have made in our lives has been governed by this hallowed inevitability. We have the means and the power to fulfill our destinies.”

  “I don’t think I follow you. What inevitability? What do genetics and cloning have to do with God’s plan for us all?”

  “God has delivered to you the Cup from the Last Supper—the Cup that caught Christ’s blood at Calvary. Sheltered for centuries in a dark, arid tomb, it is the only remnant of Jesus Christ left on Earth. Beneath the protective layer of beeswax inside the Cup is the blood of Christ—blood holding the secret of His DNA. It is a gift from God—a means to an end. And the end is by His doing—His divine plan. Jehovah delivered the Cup to you, to the spiritual leader He has chosen over all others. And He has delivered it at this time, a time when the technology is perfected. Jesus Christ, the son of God, the Messiah, is coming back. And we have been chosen to do God’s work.”

  “You are suggesting that I somehow turn over the Cup of Christ to you so that you can clone—?” Ianucci made a fist and pounded it on his desk, then rose to his feet. “This is blasphemy! Out! Get out!”

  “I’m not surprised by your reaction, Your Eminence. These are not concepts we ponder often. It is certainly foreign in nature to a man like you. All I ask is you think about what I’ve said. And while you do, consider the moments in history when an unusual or controversial concept was proposed and immediately labeled blasphemy, only years or even centuries later proven true.” Sinclair took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and laid it on the cardinal’s desk. “Just think about it. Pray about it. God is waiting for you.”

  “Go,” Ianucci said, his voice low, drawing out the word with disgust.

  Sinclair nodded as he stood. With the travel case in hand he turned and left.

  Ianucci sat. For many moments, he stared at the folded paper before picking it up and opening it. After reading the note, he balled it in his fist. Trying to wipe what had happened from his mind, he scanned his calendar and made a phone call to check on the progress of the restoration of a newly acquired Raphael.

  But he couldn’t clear his head, couldn’t concentrate on anything except Sinclair’s words. When he finished the call, instead of hanging up the receiver, he held onto it and pressed the button with his finger. He sat motionless, as if time had arrested. A few moments later he released the button and dialed his aide.

  “Cancel my appointments,” he said. “I will be out for the rest of the day.”

  Ianucci left his office and closed the door. So deep in thought, though he passed several others, he did not acknowledge them.

  My God, what if Sinclair was right. What if Christ is to return again just in the manner he said?

  Inside his quarters, Ianucci fell to his knees at his bedside, propping his elbows on the mattress, dropping the crushed paper on the spread. He prayed for God to direct him, tell him how it was to be.

  The rest of the day passed as he shifted between praying and reading scripture. At sunset he stood at his window and watched the sky turn from gold to scarlet and purple. Had God indeed taken his hand during his earliest years and led him to this very moment in time? He had always known God favored him—always known he was destined to rise to the top, to lead the Church. Every cell in his body was indoctrinated with that belief. He had never dared to consider it might
even be more than that. Perhaps he was destined not to lead the Church, but the whole of mankind. Could it really be that the Almighty entrusted him with the Second Coming?

  Ianucci’s tears fell onto his folded hands. He wept until his body trembled and exhaustion weakened him. Sure that he could hear a chorus of angels, he stared at the crucifix on the wall.

  The cardinal sat on the edge of the bed and uncrumpled the paper Sinclair gave him, reading the hotel name and room number again.

  Then he reached for the phone.

  the sign

  The cardinal checked his watch. He’d told Sinclair to come at 11:00 am. It was ten after. He drummed his fingers on the desktop. Perhaps he shouldn’t have called the geneticist. But he had to hear more—at least part of him did. On one hand, he steadfastly denied any validity to Sinclair’s logic. Certainly it was as close to blasphemy as you could get in today’s modern, open way of thinking. But somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Ianucci kept asking himself the same questions. What if this was the ultimate test of his faith? What if human cloning was the method by which Christ would return—the wolf will dwell with the lamb, the Church and science lying down together? The young lion and the fatling together. And how would the cardinal be judged if he ignored the direct word of God? In other words, what if Sinclair was right?

  The ring of the phone startled Ianucci. He picked it up and listened, then said, “Send him in.”

  As the door opened, the cardinal sat up straight and smoothed the fabric of his cassock over his stomach. “Good morning, Dr. Sinclair.” He motioned to the chair in front of him.

  “Eminence,” Sinclair said, nodding. As he had done yesterday, he put the travel case in his lap after sitting. “I am pleased you have decided to consider all I have to tell you.”

  “Do not misinterpret my invitation. I have not changed my mind, but I feel that I want to hear the basis for your premise. If nothing else, I will have the opportunity to discredit it.”