The Source - Michael Cordy [123]
'Is everything okay, Father General?'
Fleischer and Petersen were waiting at the entrance with the two bound nymphs. 'Everything's fine, Feldwebel. Please hand me the rock hammer.'
'You need any help?'
'No.' Suddenly he felt self-conscious. 'Wait outside in the tunnel. I'll call if I need you.'
He waited till he was alone, then slowly pressed the sharp end of the hammer to the stone. The contact point sparked and again he noticed the disturbance beneath his feet. He raised the hammer and gently tapped the surface. The monolith pulsed, the hydra writhed like an angry serpent and a shock went up his arm. The two nymphs outside screamed at a pitch so high it hurt his ears.
'Shut them up!' he shouted to Fleischer.
He studied the surface of the monolith, found a raised slab of crust where the hydra grew out of the rock and angled the tip of the hammer against it. A few firm taps should chip it off. He took a deep breath, spread his legs for balance, then raised the hammer.
'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' The stern, familiar voice stopped him mid-blow.
He turned slowly to the far end of the cave, to the dark exit. Sister Chantal stood in the shadows watching him, but the voice that had raised the hairs on the back of his neck belonged to the ghost in front of her.
'You're dead,' Torino stuttered, throat dry. 'I saw the blood. I saw the bullet hit you.'
Kelly pointed to the hole in his bloodstained shirt directly over his heart. His eyes burnt with anger. 'It did hit me. I was dead.' He gestured at the Source. 'But that brought me back.' Torino didn't move as Kelly walked over to him, reached for his right hand and placed it on his chest. 'If you doubt me, feel my wound.' He turned to reveal an even bigger hole in the back of his shirt.
Torino dropped the hammer and put his finger through the holes in Kelly's shirt. There was no wound in his chest or back. Not even a scar. It was as if he had never been shot. Yet Torino had seen the high-velocity bullet pierce his chest and Bazin, the professional killer, had sworn it was a death-shot. 'I saw the nymphs take you—'
'They brought me here.' Kelly pointed to the pool at the foot of the monolith. 'They immersed my body in there and fed me from the Source.'
'You drank directly from it?' For all the miracles he had seen in the garden this was something infinitely more significant. Kelly hadn't merely been cured of some fracture or illness. He had been resurrected. Despite his shock, Kelly's appearance excited him: it confirmed the ultimate power of the Source. 'God is merciful, Dr Kelly. He gave you a second chance. You must appreciate His power now, and understand there's more to life than science.'
Kelly expressed a small, humourless laugh. 'You must understand there's more to life than religion. This rock – the Source – is far more important than any church.'
Torino was appalled by the man's arrogance. 'More important than the Holy Mother Church?'
Kelly stepped forward. He held a pistol in his right hand. 'Of course it's more important. About four billion years ago the biggest miracle on Earth, perhaps in the entire universe, happened here. This monolith, the Source, was born of a unique life-sparking impact. Before that seminal moment, this planet was an unremarkable, charred rock bombarded by meteorites in a remote backwater of space. The seeds of life were sown on this exact spot. This is as close to sacred ground as it gets. But it's got nothing to do with religion or God. For most of the last four billion years, life evolved quite happily without religion or us. Then, in the last hundred thousand years or so, we arrived and our consciousness hungered to explain the things we