Clive Cussler - Lost City

Austin had to admire the complex workings of her villainous mind. She had been one step ahead of everyone.

"That's why you wanted the Woods Hole expedition wiped out." "Of course. I couldn't have those blundering fools jeopardizing my plans."

"You want to become empress of a world in chaos?"

"That's the point. Once countries are in bankruptcy, suffering from famine and political anarchy, their rulers impotent, I will come to remove this scourge from the world." "You're saying you can kill the weed?"

"As easily as I can kill you and your friends. The 'death-bound' will come to worship the immortals who will be created here tonight.

These people will go back to their respective countries and gradually assume the mantle of power. We will be superior beings whose wisdom will be a welcome relief to democracy, with its fickleness and demands on the ordinary people. We will be gods!"

"Demigods who live forever? Not an appetizing prospect." "Not for you and your friends. But cheer up. I might let you live in a somewhat altered state. A pet, perhaps. It only takes a few days to turn a human being into a snarling beast. Quite a remarkable process. It would be amusing to let you watch the changes in your lady friend and see if you still want to hold her in your arms."

"I wouldn't count on it," Austin said. "Your miracle elixir may be in short supply."

"Impossible. My laboratories will continue to supply as much as I need."

"Have you been in contact with your island recently?" "There has been no need to be in contact. My people there know what to do."

"Your people are no more. Your island laboratories have been destroyed. I was there to witness it."

"I don't believe you."

Austin smiled, but there was a hard look in his coral-blue eyes. "The mutants escaped and made short work of Colonel Strega and his men. They wrecked your labs, but they would have been useless to you anyway, because the island and your submarine are now in the hands of British marines. Your star scientist MacLean is dead, shot by one of your own men."

Racine hardly blinked at the news. "No matter. With the resources at my command, I can build other labs on other islands. MacLean would have been disposed of with the others in any case. I have the formula and it can be replicated easily. I have won and you and your friends have lost."

Austin glanced at his watch. "Too bad you'll never see your Utopia," he said, with renewed self-confidence.

"You seem fascinated by the passage of time," Racine said. "Are we keeping you from an appointment?"

Austin stared into Racine's eyes, which now glowed with ruby-red intensity.

"You're the one who has the appointment." Racine seemed puzzled at Austin's reply. "With whom?" "Not with whom. What. The thing that you fear the most." Racine's features hardened. "I fear nothing and no one." She whirled away and strode over to the raised platform.

A white-haired couple had stepped forward from the encircling group. The woman carried a tray that held a number of round-bottomed amber phials similar to the one Racine had drunk from in the armory. The man held a carved wooden box of dark wood inlaid in ivory with a triple eagle.

Skye's grip on Austin's hand tightened. "Those are the people who kidnapped me in Paris," she whispered. "What should we do?"

"Wait," he said. He glanced at his watch, even though he had checked it a minute before.

Events were moving too fast. Austin began to formulate a desperate plan. He exchanged glances with Zavala to put him on alert. Joe gave a slight nod, indicating that he understood. The next few minutes would be crucial.

Racine reached into the box and extracted the helmet. There was a soft round of applause as she mounted the stairs to the platform. She raised the helmet high and then she placed it on her head and glanced around, her face wreathed in a triumphant smile.

"You have had a long journey to this holy of holies, and I am glad to see that you all made it across the Bridge of Sighs." There was muted laughter from the crowd. "Never mind. You will find the strength to leap across the chasm

on the way out. Soon we will all be gods, worshipped by mere mortals unable to fathom our power and wisdom. As you are, I once was. As I am, you soon will be."

Racine's acolytes drank in her beauty with hungry, yearning eyes.

"I took the final phase of the formula only an hour ago. Now, my honored friends, who have done so much in my service, you are next. You are about to drink the true Philosopher's Stone, the elixir of life that so many have sought in vain for centuries."

The woman with the tray walked around the dais. Eager hands reached for the phials.

Austin was waiting for Marcel and the guards to step forward. There would be a narrow window of opportunity when attention switched from the prisoners to the prospects of the wonderful new age that lay ahead. He was gambling that even Marcel would succumb to the excitement of the moment. Austin had been moving in barely noticeable side steps closer to the nearest guard. The guard was already transfixed by the spectacle on the dais and had lowered his weapon to his side.

The phials were being passed to Marcel and his men.

Austin planned to jump the guard and wrestle him down. Zavala could grab Skye and run for the tunnel. Austin knew it was a sacrifice bunt at best, but he owed it to his friends for getting them into this mess. He signaled Zavala with his eyes again and tensed his body for a leap, only to check his move as a murmur ran through the crowd.

Racine's followers had put the flasks to their lips, but their eyes were directed toward the stage.

Racine had raised her hand to her slender neck, as if something were caught in her throat. There was a puzzled look in her eyes. Then her hand moved up to her cheek. Her fair skin seemed to be withering. Within seconds, it was yellow and wrinkled as if it had been hit with acid.

"What's happening?" Racine said. She touched her hair. It could have been the light, but her long locks seemed to have gone from gold to platinum. She plucked gently at her hair with a clawlike hand. A tuft came out loose in her fingers. She stared at the clump with horror.

The wrinkles on her face were spreading like cracks in a drying mud flat

"Tell me what is happening!" she wailed.

"She's getting old again," someone said in a whisper that had the impact of a shout.

Racine stared at the speaker. Her eyes were losing their reddish glow and were sinking deeper into their sockets. Her arms were withering to sticks and the helmet weighed on her thin neck. She began to hunch over and curl up like a shrimp, seeming to shrink in on herself. Her beautiful face was a ruin, the marble skin flecked with age spots. She looked like a victim of a rapid-aging disease.

Racine realized what was happening to her. "No," she said, trying to shout, but her voice came out as a croak. "Nooooo," she moaned.

Racine's legs lost their ability to hold her up and she sank to her knees and then fell forward. She crawled a foot or so and reached out to Austin with a bony hand.

The horror of the moment was not lost on Austin, but Racine had been responsible for countless deaths and misery. He gazed at her with pitiless eyes. Racine's appointment with death was long overdue.

"Have a nice journey to eternity," he said. "How did you know?" she said, her voice a harsh cackle. MacLean told me before he died. He programmed the formula so that it would eventually accelerate age rather than reverse it," Austin said. "The trigger was the third shot of elixir. It compressed a century of aging into one hour."

MacLean she said, the word trailing out to a hiss. Then she shuddered once and lay still.

In the stunned silence that followed, Racine's acolytes lowered their drinks as if the contents had turned to molten glass and dropped the containers onto the sand.