The Judas Strain - James Rollins [166]
Nasser came up to him. “Time has run out,” he said, tapping his wristwatch with his cell phone. His voice was thick with disdain. “Do you have any sudden insights?”
Vigor felt coldness flowing from the man amid a dark amusement. He was enjoying torturing Gray. Vigor started to step between them, fearing Gray might react badly and attack Nasser again.
But instead Gray only nodded. “I do.”
Nasser’s eyes widened, surprised.
Gray placed a palm on the bas-relief. “The story here. It’s not a creation myth. It’s the story of the Judas Strain.”
“What are you talking about?” Nasser asked.
Vigor had the same question.
Gray explained. “From what you told us about the exposure over in Indonesia, the disease all started with seas in the area glowing with bacteria. Seas described as frothy and white. Like churned-up milk.”
Vigor straightened, stepping around Gray to view the bas-relief with new eyes. He stood with his hands on his hips.
Seichan joined him. Off to the side, Kowalski remained where he was, studying a line of bare-breasted women, his nose close to the stone.
Gray continued, pointing to the snake. “Then a great poison was released that threatened all life, good and bad.”
Seichan nodded. “Like the toxic bacteria, spewing poison and laying a swath of death.”
Nasser looked unconvinced.
Gray pressed his point home. “And according to this myth, someone survived the exposure and saved the world. Vishnu. He drank the poison, detoxified it, and turned blue…”
“As if he were glowing,” Vigor mumbled.
“Like the survivors described in Marco’s book,” Gray added. “And like the patient you described, Nasser. All glowing blue.”
Vigor slowly nodded. “It’s too perfect to be coincidence. And many ancient myths grew out of true histories.”
Gray turned to Nasser. “If I’m right, here is the first clue that we’re on the right track. That perhaps there is more yet to learn.”
Nasser’s eyes narrowed, momentarily angry—but he slowly nodded. “I believe you may be right, Commander Pierce. Very good. You just reset the clock for another hour.”
Gray attempted to hide his relief, letting out his breath with a slight rattle.
“So let us continue,” Nasser said.
Vigor drew them toward a shadowed flight of steep stairs. Behind him, Gray lingered a moment more, studying the carving. He reached out and ran a finger along the carved mountain—then back to the central tower.
Gray’s eyes met Vigor’s. Vigor noted the barest shake of the commander’s head when he turned away.
Did Gray know something more?
Vigor ducked into the narrow stairs. Before Gray had turned, Vigor had noted something else, something in the commander’s face.
Fear.
7:32 A.M.
Island of Natuna Besar
“THEY MUST NOT go there…” Susan moaned again.
The woman lay sprawled across the rear seats of the Sea Dart, slipping into and out of consciousness, close to rolling back into a full catatonic stupor. Susan fought to pull away the fire blanket that Lisa had spread over her.
“Lie still,” Lisa urged. “Try to rest. Ryder will be back soon.”
The Sea Dart rocked and bumped against the end of the fuel dock. They had landed in the sheltered bay of a small island, somewhere off the coast of Borneo. Rain continued to pour out of low clouds, but the dark anger of the typhoon had swept away. Thunder rumbled, but it sounded distant and fading.
Still leaden with grief over Monk, Lisa stared past the Sea Dart’s windshield. While she waited, her thoughts slipped easily into recriminations. She could have done more. Moved faster. Thought of something clever at the last moment. Instead, Monk’s prosthetic hand still hung from the wing’s strut. Ryder hadn’t been able to pry it off.
Lisa glanced to the hatch, wishing Ryder would get back soon. He had topped off his boat’s petrol tank and gone in search of a telephone with a fistful of emergency cash he had stored here.
But his chances looked doubtful. The nearby village lay dark along the beach, storm-damaged with stripped roofs,