“Wait a minute. Who said anything about a global flood?”
Sturrock fixed Dracup with a challenging look. “Really, Simon. I’ll have to put your diminished cranial functionality down to stress – quite understandable.”
“What are you talking about, Charles?”
“It’s quite simple. If the flood was merely a local catastrophe, then why go to the trouble of building a huge boat like the Ark? It took years to build, you know.” Sturrock flicked through the pages of the Old Testament searching for a reference.
Dracup held up a hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m with you. So Fuhi, Noah, whoever, could have just migrated to a higher altitude – found a convenient mountain to hole up on until the flood waters subsided.”
“Precisely.”
Dracup was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers on the chair arm. “I can accept a catastrophe – a serious one, maybe. And the Ark’s existence looks to be beyond doubt. But the rest – I don’t know. There’s a great deal of fanciful stuff in Genesis I just can’t go along with.”
“Dear me. What is it with this fear of Biblical veracity? I’m not trying to convert you, Simon.”
Dracup grunted. “No. I know. It’s just that I’ve formed my opinions and it’ll take a lot to change my mind.”
“You evolutionists are all the same.”
“Don’t get me started, Charles. This isn’t the time.”
“Well, you’ve got me going now. Take the sedimentary rock strata – any geologist worth his salt will tell you they show clear signs of having been laid down quickly, not over a period of millions of years. It points to a global catastrophe – and the fossil record supports the geological evidence too. It simply screams ‘global flood!’” Charles shook his head up and down like a terrier worrying at a ball, waiting for Dracup’s response. When none came he shook his head again and sat back. “Put your preconceptions behind you, Si – all is not as it seems.”
Dracup shut his eyes and groaned. The ongoing debate. Many an evening had been spent like this; argument and counter argument. Surprisingly, they’d never come to blows. “Listen Charles, if you want to help you could start by thinking about a sceptre. Noah’s sceptre, maybe. Ever heard of such a thing?”
Sturrock frowned. “Nothing springs to mind, old boy – but that’s not to say it won’t, given the right stimulation. I’ll mull it over. Now, Professor D. – you’d better tell me where you want to go. Paris? Lyons? Or maybe –”
“I can get a direct flight from Toulouse to Addis.”
“Addis? I know a chap in Addis – he might be able to help.” Sturrock fumbled in a drawer. “Here we are – used to teach here a while back. Don’t think you ever met him? Couldn’t resist the call of the wild. You’ll see what I mean if you meet him.” Sturrock adjusted the position of his glasses and read the business card he had retrieved from the depths. “Daniel Carey – The Fountain Language School, Addis Ababa.” He handed Dracup the card. “Bit zany – but a good sort. New Zealander – knows the Ethiopian ropes, if you see what I mean. I imagine he can point you in the right direction – to Lalibela and so on. I’ll wire ahead and let him know you’re coming.”
Dracup took the card. “Thanks, Charles. I need all the help I can get.”
Sturrock smiled with satisfaction. “Good. Toulouse it is, then. Give me a couple of hours to sort it out, and I’ll call you this evening.”
“Charles, you’re a good friend.”
“Did you ever doubt me?”
Dracup threw his coat on the sofa and went to his desk. He shivered; the apartment was freezing. He fired up his laptop, found the Lalibela URL from the favourites menu and scrolled through the selection of photographs. What would he find? Where would he begin his search? There was nothing recorded on Theodore’s abbreviated time capsule to suggest an exact location for the missing part of the crest. Why hadn’t the old man been more specific? The phone rang.
“Dracup.”
“Mr Dracup – I was expecting a call. Everything okay?”
Dracup had prepared himself for this conversation. Potzner sounded concerned rather than annoyed. That was the balance to be maintained.
“Fine. Any progress from your end?”
“I’m still waiting on our guys. Mike Fish is pretty good but not the fastest thing on two legs.”
“Time’s pressing.”
There was a short silence. “Yeah. I know.”
“I had a visit from the police.”