“That’s why Dr. Markus contacted a physicist.” And Phillips didn’t sound a bit surprised.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t follow,” Harrington said.
Phillips answered. “Dr. Echols worked with CERN and several other labs specializing in quantum theory research. The macro aspects of physics don’t follow the same rules as micro aspects of quantum mechanics. Molecular biology adheres to the former.”
Reese nodded.
“But New World Genetics eventually funded the project.” Phillips made it a statement.
“No.”
She frowned. “How did they get the money to find what they were looking for?”
“Echols mortgaged his house, sold everything he owned, and tried to convince Markus to do the same.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Didn’t need to. Within the first week, the excavation team Echols hired found a tomb with a vial containing the ichor and a wall of hieroglyphics called the Book of Anubis. That’s when Markus jumped on board and threw everything he had into deciphering the book. Before the ink dried on their first paper, New World Genetics waved a check and a promise of lead researcher at the Utah facility in front of Echols’s nose. He was out on the next plane.” And Reese knew that because he met Echols at the Atlanta airport, and they’d taken the same plane to Utah.
“With Dr. Markus?”
“No, just me.”
Phillips jerked her chin at Reese. “Why you and not him?”
“Dr. Markus refused. No matter the amount of money, he didn’t want someone like New World Genetics to have the ichor.”
“Did he say why?”
“Not really, but I got the impression what he read on the wall in the tomb scared him.”
“And what did it read?” Harrington said.
“A lot of stuff that at the time didn’t make much sense. It referred to the ichor as the Blood of Anubis and referenced a lot of religious rhetoric. Later on, we realized the writing wasn’t rhetoric, it was an instruction manual.”
Harrington exchanged a look with Phillips who said, “Instructions for what?”
Reese knew anything he said would sound insane. “How to use the ichor to resurrect the dead.”
Neither of them laughed, but Phillips curled the corner of her mouth in an almost sneer.
“And yeah, I know how impossible that sounds. But it worked. Pretty much exactly like it was written on the walls.”
“So you just injected this stuff into bodies, and they got up and walked around?” The tone of superiority had returned to Phillip’s voice.
“No. We studied it for a year. First trying to find out what it was, then why it would bind with dead cells but not live ones.”
“What was it made of?” Harrington said.
“We never found out.”
“What did the molecular structure resemble?” Phillips said.
“It doesn’t have one.”
Phillips narrowed her eyes. “All matter has a molecular structure.”