The Messiah Conspiracy - A gripping page-turning Medical Thriller - [Omnibus Edition containing Book 1 & Book 2]

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The Messiah Conspiracy - A gripping page-turning Medical Thriller - [Omnibus Edition containing Book 1 & Book 2] Page 3

by Irvine, Ian C. P.

Her eyes twinkled in the soft light of the chamber. “Do you want some wine?” she said passing him a drink.

  Jason had taken it from her, his hand brushing slightly against hers, a little twinge of sexual excitement sparking in his body.

  They each took a sip from their golden goblets, the first people to drink from them in over three thousand years. As the warm red wine slipped easily down Jason's throat, he had moved towards Lydia. She had anticipated the move, reaching out and taking the goblet from his hand and placing both of them down beside the bottle of wine on the Pharaoh’s sarcophagus.

  Her lips were soft and cool, but her tongue was hot and wet, the taste of wine mingling with the smell of her perfume. They had kissed passionately, and when she pulled him gently to the floor, Jason followed.

  .

  .

  In the warm glow of the soft chamber lighting they made love for the first time on a bed of gold, at the feet of a Pharaoh, surrounded by four golden warrior statues who looked on passively as two people found each other for the first time.

  .

  Chapter Seven

  .

  Afterwards, they sat with their backs resting against the raised golden plinth of the Pharaoh’s sarcophagus. With his arm around Lydia's waist, Jason sipped wine from the goblet and studied the ceiling above.

  When they had first entered the burial chamber, Jason had thought that the pattern of semi-precious stones embedded in the ceiling was a random affair, but now he realized that the sparkling jewels were mimicking the patterns of the stars in the night-sky above the desert outside!

  Lydia followed Jason’s gaze and saw him studying the ceiling.

  “It’s beautiful…” She whispered.

  Jason nodded back. “Have you realised yet that they’re not random? They are a map of the constellations…look…”

  Jason reached forward and switched off the lighting. Lying with his back on the cold rubber mats on the chamber floor, he drew Lydia down beside him, and shone his torch upwards. Suddenly the ceiling came alive and the night sky twinkled and shone, the constellations of Orion, Monocerus, Canis Major and Canis Minor, Taurus and Lepus appearing magically before their eyes. It reminded Lydia of the Planetarium she had once visited at Madame Tussauds in London.

  For a moment they had lain together in silence. Lydia studying the artificial night sky, and Jason studying Lydia. Slim, with long, curling, blonde hair which fell lightly across her shoulders, her smile lit up any room she entered, her gentle blue eyes capable of charming a smile out of even the hardest of men.

  Lydia was twenty-five now, about four years older than Jason. The life and soul of any party she was invited to, she was also respected by all her colleagues for her knowledge and skill. She belonged to a new generation of archaeologists, and although she had only been working in Egypt for four years, she was well known by all the leading academics working in the country, and was a favourite and popular guest at dinner parties wherever she went.

  “…See how the diamonds and the jewels are arranged in patterns to re-create the night sky above the desert outside.” Jason flashed his torch across the ceiling, sweeping the torch beam across the constellations, depicted by the light reflected from the jewels embedded in the plaster. “Look, there’s the hunter Orion, facing the red eye of Taurus…and look, there’s his two hunting dogs following behind him…the big dog, called “Canis Major”, and his little dog, “Canis Minor”…and look, see that big diamond glowing so brightly there in the constellation of Canis Major, well that’s Sirius, the brightest star you can see in the night sky. And that one there…that’s Lepus, the hare. Orion loved to hunt rabbits…and Lepus is lying dead at Orion’s feet.”

  Lydia was impressed by Jason’s knowledge of astronomy. She kissed him again, and then as they lay on the floor together in the darkness, Lydia whispered softly:

  “It seems so incredible that the Egyptians went to so much trouble to build tombs like these, so that their Pharaohs could make it to the afterlife…but this time it might just have worked. Perhaps the old Pharaoh will have his dream come true after all. With the DNA samples you’ve taken, you’ll be able to clone him, and Raphiti-Ani will get to live again, just as he hoped for!"

  .

  The rhythmic drone of the engines suddenly changed pitch, and Jason was ripped abruptly from his memories, turning to look out the window just in time to catch sight of the pyramids of Giza, as the supply plane started to descend for landing at Cairo airport. Yes, Jason remembered the words of Lydia again, 'perhaps the old Pharaoh will have his dream come true after all!'

  As the tyres of the plane bounced for the first time on the roasting tarmac, Jason prayed silently that somehow Wainright would live long enough to see the Pharaoh king be born. Time was of the essence. And there was still so much to do.

  Part Two

  .

  Chapter Eight

  The Senior Common Room

  Christ Church College

  Oxford University, England

  .

  “I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumours by now, so I’d like you all to raise your glasses and welcome Jason Dyke back from his expedition to Egypt!”

  Professor Wainright raised his glass in salute to Jason, and the Dean of Christ Church joined in and shouted ‘Hear, hear!” loudly above all the other voices in the Senior Common Room.

  They had eaten at High Table in the great hall of Christ Church College and as was the usual custom, had just retired for Port and cigars.

  Jason had missed Oxford, especially his old student life.

  “Christ Church ” thought Jason, “ was still the best college in the world”, and he was immensely proud to be a ‘member of the House’.

  He had been back a week now, and already life had begun to return to normal. His flat in the Botley road was 'home' once again, and it was beginning to seem like he had never been away and that it had all been a dream.

  Yet, in spite of being glad to be back at home, he also missed his time in Egypt. More than a few times he had caught himself gently stroking the Ankh hanging round his neck, drifting off and daydreaming about treasures in some far off land, about a woman with blonde hair, beautiful eyes and salty lips, and about a Pharaoh waiting to be reborn.

  .

  “Jason…” , the Dean of the College was talking to him, and Jason shook himself back to reality once again. “I hear that you have taken part in one of the greatest archaeological discoveries of all time? I’m really looking forward to hearing more, but the old buzzard won’t really tell us anything!” the Dean laughed haughtily, waiving his glass of Port towards Dr Wainright.

  “I’m afraid I really can’t say any more sir. But I hope I will have made the college proud of me…and of the work Dr Wainright is doing. He is a genius, sir.”

  “So what exactly is it that Dr Wainright is working on just now, down in that new fangled lab of his?”

  “Be patient Alex! And stop giving the boy such a hard time…you know he’s not allowed to tell you anything!” Dr Wainright added, coming to Jason’s rescue from across the room. He had seen Jason being collared by the Dean, and had made his way as quickly as he could through the other college Dons to be by Jason’s side.

  “Mathew…” the Dean and all the Dons were on first name terms with each other. “ I think in the light of the promise this young man is showing, the college would be willing to offer him a fellowship. What do you think? Do think he’s got it in him to do a DPhil?” He said jokingly.

  “Oh, I think so…” The Professor replied, slapping Jason lightly on the back.

  A smile burst upon Jason’s face. To be offered a fellowship by the Dean himself was a great honour.

  “Jason,” the Professor continued. “As I've already told you, you have a lot of potential and it's high time you pursued your doctorate. You need to get those letters after your name lad. And soon. If you want me to be your Professor, we can't wait too long. You know I haven’t got as long as I would like...�


  “Nonsense Mathew, you’re going to be with us for quite a long time yet. I know it!” and with the uncomfortable reference to the cancer slowly killing the professor, the Dean decided to ‘circulate’ and see ‘how the other old buggers were doing!’.

  Picking up another two glasses of Port, Professor Wainright motioned towards an adjoining room and Jason followed behind him as they went in search of a little more privacy. The other room was empty, in spite of the roaring log fire in the stone fireplace. They sat down in the leather couches around the fire, and for a second Wainright said nothing, just swirling the Port around in the glass and puffing on his cigar. He coughed lightly.

  “Nasty habit…don’t know why I bother.”

  Jason smiled. The professor said that every time the cigar smoke made him cough. He had been saying it for years.

  The old Professor didn't look bad for his age. About six foot tall, although he wasn't fat, it would be fair to say that over the years he had acquired a little extra padding around the waist. He still had a complete head of hair, which had turned a rather charming silver. In stark contrast, his eyebrows had almost magically, remained completely black. Soft blue eyes and well worn laughter lines around his eyes gave the effect of a kind, thoughtful man who had seen a lot of life, but who had enjoyed it all.

  “Jason, you’ve done a wonderful job! The news from the lab was good today. All your samples from the Pharaoh's mummy have offered up prime DNA material. I want to start the process tomorrow, and I want you to follow very closely everything I do. This is as much your baby as mine. I want your name on the White Paper right up there beside mine.”

  “How long do you think?”

  “For what? Until we have a live and kicking little Pharaoh?” the Professor sipped his Port and puffed heavily on his cigar. “Well, we already have a couple of potential host mothers lined up, and a number of eggs waiting to be fertilised. If everything goes well, I would guess we could have a couple of little bouncing blighters within a year. Fourteen months at the latest. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to discuss with you. Fact is Jason...” The Professor coughed, and leaned forward in the red leather chair towards him. “Fact is, that if you want to go for the DPhil., you can’t use this for your work. You have to come up with something of your own, something new and original. The DPhil. is only awarded for something that hasn’t been done before…”

  “I know…and that’s partly why I’ve never done the DPhil. yet. I can’t think of anything new and original to do!” Jason admitted, slightly embarrassed.

  Both of them sat in silence staring blankly into the flames. Then the Professor spoke, his voice a little quieter than before.

  “While you’ve been away we’ve refined the process. We’ve not published anything on it yet, and we probably won’t. At least, not yet. It’s too sensitive. Too…well, shall we simply say that we can do more now than we ever dreamed of a few years ago. If you come to the lab on Sunday afternoon I’ll go over it all with you. Then I want you to think about everything we can do… or could do…put all of the pieces of the jigsaw together and then come up with a NEW idea…your own idea. I know you can do it my boy. I know you can…”

  .

  ---------------------

  .

  It had been a week since Lydia had heard from Jason. The last time they spoke Jason had told her excitedly of the fellowship and funding he had received from his college at Oxford, and she had felt a tremendous sense of pride towards him. It was a bit worrying. Although there had always been a steady stream of admirers, she hadn’t really fallen for many men in her life.

  Since their night of passion in the Pharaoh’s burial chamber she had thought a lot about him, especially in the quieter moments when she was sitting alone in the tomb beneath the ground, cataloguing the dead king’s immense treasure.

  She had only ever known five lovers, and the encounter with Jason had been the most erotic and exciting she’d had so far. And after several days thinking about it, she had made a decision that she wanted more. She had to see Jason again.

  Not that it had been hard to persuade him to see her again. It had been a simple phone conversation.

  “Listen, I’m coming to Paris next weekend to deliver some artefacts to a Professor there who's going to do some research for us, and to do some research in the Louvre. I would love to see you again… Do you fancy meeting up for a drink and a chat in Paris?” she had asked nervously.

  “Hmm…” he had toyed with her. “Maybe…but only if you promise to throw in a night in a romantic Parisian hotel!”

  He drove a hard bargain.

  Jason had aroused a sleeping warrior in her, and sexually she couldn’t wait to be with him again. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about him that had captured her mind so completely, but it was probably something to do with his ‘little-lost-boy’ look, combined with a fantastic smile and a pair of wonderful green eyes.

  At five foot ten, Jason was just over three inches taller than she was. Although Jason looked quite thin, he was surprisingly strong. Far from the stereo-typical image of a scientific geek, Jason took pride in his appearance, always dressing in the latest trendy clothes.

  When she closed her eyes, she could quickly recall his jet black hair, the dimple in the centre of his chiselled chin, and his broad shoulders. And those eyes…

  She couldn’t wait to see him again.

  .

  The next week flew by, and when they met again on the Friday night at the Charles de Gaulles airport just outside Paris, she flew into his arms and smothered him with hugs and kisses. Jason held her tightly, smelling her perfume and capturing the sensation of her skin against his as he kissed her neck.

  The taxi took an hour to get them to their hotel in the centre of the city, and they talked excitedly, kissing and cuddling in the back of the cab like two excited teenagers.

  Jason was eager to hear news of the dig, and listened glassy eyed as Lydia told of the latest finds and treasures they had uncovered in the tomb of the Pharaoh. As she told him the latest news about the impending visit of the Egyptian President to the tomb in two weeks time, Jason found himself completely caught up in the pictures she was building for him.

  For a moment he wished he could be back there with her, working together on uncovering the secrets of the past, but then he remembered the inspiring words of Dr Wainright the week before, and he realised just how exciting his own opportunity was.

  “So all you have to do is find and think of a topic that no one else has ever thought of, and Wainright and the college will support you in your research, so that you can get your doctorate?” Lydia made it sound simple.

  “Yes, just like that…just come up with a brand new idea…no problem at all…I’ll probably do it before lunch tomorrow…in fact, why not now on the way to the hotel?”

  “Don’t be so sarcastic…It doesn’t suit you. Seriously though, what about your work on cloning the Pharaoh? How’s that coming along?” Lydia asked, realising she had spent ages talking about herself and her work, and not asking anything about his.

  “It’s all coming along very nicely, thanks. The genetic samples I brought back are all great, and we started the process immediately. Things are looking good.” Jason replied.

  “So how long will it be before the old Pharaoh sits on his throne again?”

  “I don’t know about thrones, but if things carry on the way they are going, and there are no last minute problems, we’ll probably have a few little Pharaohs sitting on ‘potties’ by the end of next year. The first mother will be given a fully fertilised egg next week, and two others are being prepared for the week after. It’s all go!”

  “So, when you start studying does that mean you stop working at the institute on the Pharaoh project?”

  “No. I’ll still be working on the project part-time while I do my doctorate. It’ll help me earn some extra cash from the institute. I’ve got quite used to earning money, and I don’t know if I could jus
t be a poor student again.” Jason replied.

  The taxi pulled up outside their hotel in the Rue de Jardin. Jason had chosen it because it was close to the centre of town, just a few minutes' walk away from the Louvre.

  As it turned out, as far as Saturday was concerned the hotel may as well have been on the outskirts of Paris. They never left the hotel room the whole day. Jason had once seen the film ‘Last tango in Paris’, and since then he had always wanted to spend a weekend locked away in some Parisian hotel with a gorgeous woman making love for hours on end. Now his dream had come true.

  .

  ---------------------

  .

  On the Sunday morning, guilt overcame them both and they decided that while they were in Paris they had to see something of the city. It would be a sin not to. So after a long leisurely breakfast they left the hotel and ventured out into the sunlight, walking aimlessly hand in hand along the banks of the Seine, passing the stalls of artists and booksellers, and having lunch in a little café in the shadow of the cathedral of Notre Dame.

  Afterwards they strolled around the streets and came across an English lady waving an umbrella in the air and being followed by about twenty English and Japanese people on a guided tour. Tagging along behind the group, they eavesdropped on the guide, who proved to be incredibly knowledgeable about the city and very entertaining with it. Like little children following the Pied Piper of Hamlin, they followed her through the streets of Paris, until they found themselves inside a large church with the most incredible set of stained glass windows they had ever seen.

  “I’ll meet you all outside in twenty minutes” the guide shouted to her group of tourists, “ and remember…no flash photography!”

  “Wow…”said Lydia, walking round the church with her head straining backwards so that she could see the tops of the tall windows. “It’s beautiful!”

 

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