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'But it's too amazing to be kept secret.'

'You made a vow and vows must be kept.'

'And I'll keep it. It's just that as a doctor—' Sister Chantal's passion flared. 'You can't equivocate with a vow. A vow is black and white. There's never a plausible excuse or justifiable reason to break it. You either keep a vow or break it. There's no middle ground. A vow is for ever.'

The sun had set and they were sitting round a small fire towards the top of the eye. They had had dinner and were now drinking coffee, arguing about the place in which they found themselves. Ross could sympathize with Hackett's view but earlier, when he'd shown Zeb the crystal concealed in his backpack and told her about his experience in the cave, she had sided with Sister Chantal. 'Ross, Lauren translated the Voynich. She deserves to be saved by the garden. In return, Sister Chantal will expect her to protect it. If Falcon and Sister Chantal believe that whoever translated the Voynich should determine what happens to this place they couldn't have chosen a more responsible person than Lauren. And I'll tell you now: the last thing Lauren would do is tell the world about it. Not until she knew what the world would do with it.'

Sister Chantal turned to the others. 'You will all honour the vow.' It was a command.

'Yes,' said Zeb, quickly.

Sister Chantal looked at Mendoza. 'And you?'

Mendoza met her gaze. 'People would pay anything to come to this place and be cured. But we have enough gold in the lost city. I'll keep my vow,' he said solemnly.

'But, Sister, why don't you want to tell the world about it?' pleaded Hackett. 'Think of the good it could do.'

'For whom?' said Zeb.

Hackett turned to her, surprised. 'For humanity, of course. This place will save lives.'

'But who will save this place?'

'What do you mean?'

'This place is a resource and not just for humanity. What do you think man would do with it if he found it?'

'Use it to heal, of course.'

'This small garden to heal the whole population of the Earth? Who chooses who to save first? Who takes priority before it's depleted and destroyed? And what do we do after we've exhausted it and killed all the living creatures here just to prolong our lives?'

'We could conserve it,' said Hackett.

Zeb laughed. 'The only thing mankind conserves are ruins – and I use the term mankind advisedly. We're crap at conserving living resources. Not until we've used them up or turned them into ruins. Only then, when it's too late, do we suddenly get all misty-eyed. Sister Chantal's right to keep this place secret.'

'But what if the pharmaceutical industry could analyse what's here?' demanded Hackett. 'We saw how important the spring water was to the lost city. It could contain stem-cell regenerators, electrolytes, amino acids. They could synthesize it. Make a limitless supply.'

Zeb laughed again. 'We also saw what happened to the lost city when the water dried up. Even if they could unlock this place's power, do you suppose the pharmaceutical industry – that paragon of ethics, morality and altruism – would give it away free?'

'They could make it affordable, at least.'

'Have you ever known any pharmaceutical company make anything affordable – particularly something as valuable as this – let alone give it away free? Just look at what's happening with HIV drugs in Africa. Even if they did give it away would that be a good thing? Think about it: a world with no more death or disease, just an ever-growing population, everyone needing their fix to keep them healthy and alive. Anyway, this place would put the pharmaceutical industry out of business overnight. They'd have to destroy it before it destroyed them.'

For all Zeb's pessimism, Ross feared she was right. If this was an alternative to oil he knew what his industry would do: exploit it or bury it.

Hackett was about to respond when Sister Chantal raised a hand, like a referee in a fight. 'Nothing in here can be synthesized,' she said. 'I had a sample analysed a