That night The knocking woke Torino from a deep sleep.
'What is it?'
He roused himself from his bed and saw Feldwebel Fleischer standing in his cabin doorway. 'Father General, I have Cardinal Prefect Guido Vasari on the radio in the wheelhouse. He is calling from Rome and demands to speak with you.'
Demands? thought Torino. 'What time is it?'
A faint smile. 'In Rome it's nine in the morning, Your Excellency. Here it's two.'
Torino clambered out of his cabin and made his way along the deck. The wheelhouse, lit up like a lone lantern, made the vast river and the chattering forest fringing its banks seem even darker. The close, warm night was black with only the faintest glow from a cloud-obscured moon.
In the wheelhouse, the soldier piloting the vessel handed him the radio. Torino wiped the sleep from his eyes. 'I need privacy, please.' He waited for the soldiers to leave, then put the radio to his lips. 'Cardinal Prefect?'
'Father General, where are you?' Vasari sounded angry. 'You haven't called in for days. I had to be patched through to your men by the Minister of the Interior.'
'I am on the Amazon and it's the middle of the night.'
'I don't care what time it is. You are to return immediately.'
'Why?'
'When we sanctioned this venture you expressly told the Holy Father and me that your scholars had translated the final section of the Voynich. You said you had directions to this garden. However, when I requested a copy from the scholars in your office, they knew nothing of any directions.'
It was Torino's turn to be angry. 'Cardinal Prefect, you have no right to question me or to pry into matters of the Society of Jesus. The Jesuit order is not under your jurisdiction.'
'It is, however, under the Holy Father's. He's as concerned as I am. You said you could find Father Orlando Falcon's Garden of God, and do it discreetly because you had a map. We thought you knew where it was. It's becoming increasingly obvious that this garden is a myth, a personal obsession of yours.'
'It's not a myth.'
'Even if it does exist, how do you expect to find it without a map?'
'By following Dr Kelly, who does have one.'
'Following him? Can't you see that Dr Kelly is only doing this because he's seeking a miracle to save his wife? You are a senior officer of the Holy Mother Church, a man of God. You set an example for Rome.'
'But what if Dr Kelly finds something? I can take it from him, claim it for the new Vatican. I have the legal authority and the soldiers to enforce it.'
'You're talking about a direct confrontation, a very public one. The very thing we agreed we must avoid. Father General, this madness must stop. You will jeopardize the Church's reputation and the new Vatican project. You and the soldiers must return immediately.'
'Since when has the Superior General of the Society of Jesus taken orders from a cardinal?'
'These aren't my orders.' Vasari was almost apoplectic with fury.
'They come directly from-'
'I can't hear you, Cardinal Prefect, the radio's breaking up.'
Vasari was screaming now. 'You must come back, Father General. That is a direct order from the Holy Father.'
Torino listened to him for a moment longer, then turned off the radio. He rose and called Fleischer. 'Feldwebel, I want there to be total radio silence from now on. No incoming or outgoing calls.'
'But, Father General, the security protocol is to call in our position every two days.'
'In that case, change it. The Holy Father demands total discretion. There are those who want to stop my mission and no one must know where I am.' He handed the radio to Fleischer. 'Tell the Peruvian authorities you'll not be receiving any more calls, and that you'll only call in if there's an emergency. When you've done that I want this radio temporarily disabled.'
'Yes, Father General.'
'Good. Wake me at dawn.'
So, Cardinal Prefect Guido Vasari was sabotaging his mission, he thought. No doubt he was already pouring poison into the Holy Father's ear. That was the trouble with the Roman Catholic Church today: the leaders had no vision. But when he found the Garden of God and presented it to the Holy Father, they would understand. Then they would recognize him as the saviour of the Holy Mother Church.
37
The next morning They heard it first: a rumble like distant thunder. Despite Falcon's warnings and Hackett's vigilance, the Mouth of Hell still took them by surprise. As the Discovery turned into a narrower, winding stretch of river the rough waters appeared calmer. Juarez leant over the prow and lowered the sounding pole, expecting the water to get shallower, a sign that rocks, rapids and a waterfall were imminent. But the water wasn't shallower. It was deeper.
Much deeper.
And the current was stronger. So strong that he had to grip the sounding pole to keep it in his grasp and trust in the harness he was wearing to avoid falling in. The current hauled the boat along and as Hackett struggled to slow it, the rumble became a roar. They turned a tight bend but even when they straightened and looked beyond the giant trees that lined the river they couldn't see anything. There was too much spray.
Then the waterfall was before them, and Ross heard Hackett mutter, 'Bollocks.'
It wasn't the drop into Hell they had expected but above them. The stretch of river ended abruptly. The Discovery was heading straight for a towering cliff from which water cascaded into the river. But that wasn't the only reason why Hackett was swearing. Between the boat and the waterfall there was a whirlpool as fierce as any Ross had ever seen. This was the Mouth of Hell and Ross understood now why Falcon had so christened it. At that moment, it appeared that anything caught in its vortex would be sucked into the underworld.
'What do we do?' Juarez shouted.
'Pull into the bank,' yelled Mendoza.
'Too many rocks,' replied Hackett, 'and I've got no control of the boat, anyway.'
'So what do we do? Jump off?' Zeb pointed to the two rowboats at the back. 'We could take those.'
Hackett laughed. 'If the Discovery's engines can't escape it-'
'Go faster,' ordered a voice behind them.
Sister Chantal was standing by the wheelhouse, frail and dishevelled. Her eyes were red-rimmed but clear.
'I've got it on full throttle. I can't go any faster.'
'Not backwards,' she said. 'Forwards. Go full speed towards it.'
'Sister, are you mad?' said Mendoza.
'If you want to live, do as I say. And do it now.'
'No way.'
'Do it,' said Ross. 'The direction tells us to rush into the Mouth of Hell.'
Hackett shook his head in disbelief. 'Have you seen that cliff? It's solid rock. If we manage to get past the whirlpool and avoid getting crushed by the waterfall we'll smash into the rock.'
'Go forward,' insisted Sister Chantal, 'as fast as you can. Head for El Velo de la Luz.'
Ross pointed at the cliff as the sunlight caught the waterfall, causing it to sparkle like a curtain of blindingly brilliant diamonds. 'El Velo de la Luz, the Veil of Light. Aim for the waterfall. Full speed ahead.' Hackett hesitated. 'Unless you've got a better idea?'
Hackett changed gear and steered the boat straight for the Mouth of Hell and the waterfall. 'Everyone, get under cover and hold on to something firm. This isn't going to be fun.'
The engines roared and the boat shot forward as though surfing a wave. Ross stood with the others in the
