The Trespass(91)

“In any given system, neither matter nor energy can be self-created or destroyed. That’s law numero uno.” Potzner ticked it off with his forefinger. “Two. Over time, any closed system becomes less ordered and more random. The mechanics of evolution just don’t work.”

“Yes, but –”

“I told you, I’m no scientist, Prof. But it seems common sense to me. Evolution is just a flawed theory. A fairy tale. You going to argue with Einstein? Go right ahead. Anyhow, it’s all academic. I’ve seen the proof.”

The proof? Dracup thought of Charles’ bizarre email. Adam. Red Earth. He couldn’t get his mind around it. The car swung smoothly onto the M4. Dracup craned his neck to look out of the back window. So far there was no sign of pursuit. That was odd. “Where are we going?”

“To a US air base in Devon. I need you under US jurisdiction.”

“And what makes you think I can tell you anything?” Dracup stalled. As he prevaricated he realized that Potzner was probably his only remaining hope. Who else could decipher the cuneiform?

“It’s in your face, Professor. You found something in Africa, didn’t you?”

Dracup patted his top pocket. The compact flash card was still there. “All right. I do have something – in jpg format. Your people can examine it.”

Potzner looked as if he had simultaneously won the lottery and witnessed his team win the super league. His eyes were wide. “I knew you’d come up with something.”

They drove on in silence for a while. Then Potzner said, “You ever have someone close to you die, Professor?”

“Apart from my parents, no. I –” Then with a sick jolt Dracup remembered Charles. “Not until recently.”

“Right. I’m sorry about Sturrock.”

“Thanks.”

“You see, Professor, as I was telling you in London, we have the potential to accelerate human genome research exponentially.”

“That won’t bring back the dead.”

Potzner shook his head. “No, no. You’re right. But it will prevent unnecessary death by disease. And it will – in time – decelerate the ageing process.”

“But there’s more to all this than just research, Potzner. If it’s true.”

“Oh, it’s true all right. I’ve seen it for myself.”

Dracup fixed Potzner with a steady, probing look. “Are you telling me that you have seen, with your own eyes, the preserved body of the first created man?”

Potzner returned the eye contact. “Yes. Without a doubt.”

“How can you be so sure? It could be anyone.”

Potzner chuckled to himself. “No, no, no. Don’t you get it? There was something pretty special about our first parents. Something that sets them apart from all their children.”

“Namely?”

Potzner leaned in close. “They were created, not born. They have no umbilicus.”

Dracup exhaled in disbelief. “A male body, with no belly-button?” This was insane. “And the female? Eve?”

Potzner shook his head. “Nope. Not a sign. It’s possible she’s buried in the location we all want to find. But, so far, there’s no evidence that her body received the same treatment.”

Dracup was thinking about the sceptre. Not Noah’s sceptre. Adam’s. “This is extraordinary. It means –”

“It means we have a chance at immortality,” Potzner interrupted. “It means no more death.”

Dracup shook his head. “No, no it doesn’t.” He struggled to articulate the outrageous thought. “It means – it means there is a creator. A designer. God.”

“God?” Potzner guffawed. “If you want to call him that. But what do we know about him? I mean really know? What can we prove about the creator? For all you know, he could be half a million galaxies away from Earth by now. And do you think he – it – cares about – hell, even remembers – this speck of dust? So what if he set the ball rolling? It’s rolling along pretty good without him, huh? No, what we have here is human potential. We can be masters of our own destinies. We will build indestructible bodies.”

“Using Adam’s blueprint?”

“Why not? His body is different, Dracup, stronger. His DNA is a work of art, according to our guys. What we have in here ¬” Potzner thumped his chest for emphasis, “is some poor imitation, a flawed copy.”

“But Adam died.” Dracup frowned at Potzner’s strange logic. “At some improbable age, granted, but he still died.”

“Yeah, but think what you could do with a lifespan like that. Eight hundred, nine hundred years? C’mon, Dracup, where’s your vision? Think of the knowledge you’d gain, the quality of life you’d enjoy with no disease to interrupt you. We can do it. All we have to do is keep the research going. We’ll get there.”