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‘The Golden Relic’
A gripping high-tech action thriller
Ancient legends clash with tomorrow’s AI tech
About the book
An ancient relic. A billionaire obsessed with eternal life. A secret hidden for 4,600 years.
Former Army Ranger Lance Manning is drawn into a deadly race against time when his daughter Lexi is kidnapped by a ruthless tech billionaire bent on unlocking the secrets of immortality. Lexi’s rare gift – the ability to communicate with AIs – is the key to deciphering cryptic messages left by an ancient civilization in a 4,600-year-old relic.
With the help of his battle-hardened Ranger squad and Lexi’s extraordinary power, Lance must outmaneuver the tech mogul’s forces and solve the mystery of the relic before the billionaire can harness its devastating knowledge. But as an ominous wave of DNA-based terror attacks ripples across the globe and an apocalyptic plot unfolds, father and daughter find themselves pawns in a chilling endgame.
A pulse-pounding thrill ride laced with cutting-edge tech and high emotional stakes, The Golden Relic brings ancient legends to vivid life and catapults the reader to exotic locales – from Puerto Rico’s lush jungles, to Egypt’s pyramid chambers, to ancient Persia’s royal tombs.
Fans of Michael Crichton, Dan Brown, James Rollins, and Blake Crouch will devour this gripping, thought-provoking page-turner.
Ebook
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Read an excerpt
Chapter 1
This can’t be right. Eternal life?
The grizzled scientist leaned back in his wicker chair in the unkempt offices of the international study group in El Mansheya, the old town center of Alexandria, Egypt. Outside the darkened windows, he heard the familiar evening sounds of souk merchants closing up shop mixing with the distant strains of the day’s last call to prayer.
He took a deep breath to settle his nerves. The aroma of sumac and saffron drifted in from the nearby spice market. He leaned forward and pulled the keyboard closer to his ample belly. He couldn’t believe the findings.
If the readout is correct, why, this upends centuries of scholarship. It changes … everything.
He adjusted his black-frame glasses, popped out of his chair, and ambled to the instrumentation panels. Could there be anything he’d missed?
Last week, just one kilometer from the lab’s front door, his team had painstakingly recovered a set of papyrus scrolls they had dated to the time of Alexander the Great’s rule. He smoothed his fingers over the computer tomography micro-scanner that created 3D digital models of the scrolls’ contents.
He stepped to the next machine, a boxy hyperspectral imaging unit that revealed hidden texts, faded writing, and subtle differences in ink and parchment composition used in the scrolls. Then he moved to the lab’s synchrotron radiation detector. Over the past forty-eight hours, its ultra-bright X-rays enabled his team to examine the scrolls’ composition and structure at a microscopic level.
Shake ingredients, stir, run it through the AI analysis software … and the past would yield its secrets. But this!
His phone rang. Now he remembered. Time for his weekly check-in with Hannah, his research assistant in Princeton. Usually, he would switch to audio only, but today he wanted to see if Hannah could detect the excitement in his face.
“Dr. Fayek, are we really video chatting? What’s the occasion?” Hannah’s voice always made his heart glow. Even though she was young enough to be his granddaughter, they shared a scientist’s love of untangling the mysteries of the universe.
“It is good to see you, Hannah.” He held his phone’s camera at arm’s length to show off his toothy smile and, behind him, Synchro, as the lab rats liked to call the synchrotron reader. “We are putting our new toy to good use.”
“So I hear. What are the scrolls telling us? Don’t hold back now!” She pouted playfully, jutting out her lower lip.
Fayek slunk back into his sturdy wicker chair. “Now, now. You know the process. I need to conduct a final run-through tomorrow to authenticate our work. But the early findings are … intriguing.”
He tapped an icon on his phone and switched the video chat to his large computer monitor … where Hannah was squinting at him.
“You’ll have to do better than that, doctor. You’ve been using the latest AI models to translate the hieratic scripts—that much I know.”
“Yes, yes. It’s all very exciting!”
“Argh!” She let out a little grunt. “Patience is not my strong suit.”
He wasn’t ready to give her the full picture until he ran more tests. “Let’s just say the ancient Egyptians appear to have had a much more sophisticated understanding of biochemistry than anyone could have imagined.”
Hannah’s eyes flew wide. “That’s quite a statement. What branch of biochemistry?”
He wondered how much to reveal. It was all still … speculative.
“Are you familiar with the Hayflick Limit?”
She nodded. Of course she was. He remembered her CV—she held a minor in the biological sciences at Penn.
He lowered his voice to conspirator level. “I can’t say too much over an unencrypted connection.”
“Oh, the Russians are spying on us now, doctor?”
“My dear one. This turns the entire field of Egyptology on its head. It puts mummification in a whole new light. Not only did the ancient Egyptians know about our built-in biological limits. They say they found a way to bypass those limits.”
Hannah squinted and furrowed her brow. “Dr. F., that’s impossible.”
“Indeed. I’ll send through the preliminaries by end of day tomorrow and then we’ll discuss. The secret has been buried for millennia. What’s another day?”
Hannah’s radiant smile returned. “Sounds reasonable. Good night, Dr. F.”
“Good afternoon, Hannah.” He ended the chat.
Fayek turned off his computer. He gathered his things, locked up, and began the six-block walk to his apartment. El Mansheya was putting on its evening attire, its tourist-friendly bars and restaurants buzzing with activity, much of it from visitors to this historic hub of Egyptian culture. Hundreds of people milled about in the dim light in search of entertainment or culture or love or whatever they came to almarkaz for.
At the main intersection, Fayek felt a sting in the back of his neck. He turned to see if he was being attacked by a large wasp, renowned in this area for their sharp stingers. But he only saw men and women hurriedly brush past. A few slowed down as he grabbed the back of his neck and fell to his knees.
“Somebody get a doctor!” someone shouted in English.
Quizzical looks and murmurs of concern.
“Hal anta bikhayr?” A young woman leaned down. Are you all right?
These were the last words Dr. Ahmed Omar Fayek would ever hear.
Chapter 2
Lance Manning dropped his scythe and sprinted across the field toward the scream.
“Nooooooooo!” his ten-year-old daughter yelled as she lay sprawled beneath the monkey bars.
His wife raced out of the kitchen, beat him there. “What happened?” She held Lexi by the shoulders. “Did you fall?”
“Uuuurrrrrrrrgh.” Lexi shook her head and writhed in Maya’s arms, eyes clamped shut. She clutched her abdomen. “It hurts, it hurts.”
Lance knelt next to them, looked Lexi over. “Food poisoning?”
Maya stroked the back of Lexi’s long blond hair. “Where exactly does it hurt, honey?”
Lexi’s head thrashed from side to side. A tear streaked down her cheek. Her moist, reddened eyes fluttered open. She looked down at her stomach. Then at them.
“It’s Noah.”
Lance and Maya exchanged baffled looks. “What are you saying?” he asked.
“Noah’s hurt,” Lexi cried.
That didn’t make sense. How would Lexi know?
“Where’s your brother?” he asked.
She shook her head, grabbed her stomach.
Worry etched Maya’s face. “He had a makeup test after school. He should’ve been home by now.”
Lance bolted into the house, grabbed the keys, and speed-dialed the school from his pickup. The receptionist said she’d seen Noah leave half an hour ago.
Lance gripped the steering wheel and floored the accelerator, his heart pounding as he raced down the route Noah always took on his walk home. No sign of him.
Off to the left, a group of older boys emerged from the woods, laughing and shoving. Something about them set off an alarm. He slammed on the brakes, backed up, and turned down the street. The boys spotted him and fled as a pack. Lance parked at the dead end and jumped out.
“Noah! Noah!” His voice echoed through the trees as he plunged into the dense foliage.
Branches snapped underfoot as his eyes darted left and right, blood roaring in his ears. After an eternity, he heard a distant voice.
“Help! Anyone!”
“Noah?” he called. “Where are you?”
“Dad! Over here!”
Lance followed the sound and broke into a small clearing. Noah was there, tied to a tree trunk with a rough rope. His face was pale, his striped T-shirt streaked with dirt.
“Oh God, Noah.” Lance dropped to his knees and started working at the knots. “Are you hurt?”
Noah looked away. His eyes brimmed with tears.
Lance’s jaw tightened. The last strand fell to the ground, and he hugged his son. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Did they hurt you?”
Noah gripped his stomach and winced. “I’m all right.”
Lance draped his hand around Noah’s shoulder. “Let’s get you home.” They walked to the pickup.
As he drove, Lance glanced at Noah, hunched in the passenger seat. His son had always been the tougher of the twins, more rambunctious and physical. Seeing him like this, small and frightened, made Lance’s chest ache. He vowed to track down those bullies’ parents and give them hell.
Lance kept his voice even. “Nothing else is going to happen to you. I’m here to protect you. Hear me?”
Noah turned and peered out the window.
Lance couldn’t blame him for doubting. He’d been gone most of the twins’ childhood, serving multiple tours of duty with the Army Rangers on Special Ops missions in Syria, Yemen, Somalia. Disrupting terrorist cells. Sometimes going underground without access to external comms for weeks on end.
All of it took a toll on the home front.
As Lance pulled into the driveway, Maya flew out the front door, her shoulder-length dark hair streaming behind her.
“Noah! Are you all right?” Maya yanked open the passenger door and reached for Noah, but he shook his head and brushed past her.
“Don’t want to talk.” He dashed through the front door and up the staircase to his room.
Maya turned to Lance, her amber eyes wide. “What happened?”
“Some punk-ass local kids. Middle graders, I think.” Lance slammed the pickup’s door and stalked into the house, Maya trailing.
“Is he hurt? Should we call the police?”
“He’s bruised but he’ll be okay.” Lance raked a hand through his hair, still sweaty from working the tall wild grass that rimmed the boundary of their small homestead. “He won’t want to talk to the cops. I’ll track down those kids’ parents. I’ll take care of it.”
Maya sat beside him, searching the distant look on his face. “Lance, are you okay?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know if we’re safe here. If I can protect the kids.”
Maya reached for him but he twisted away and rose, his heavy shoes thudding on the hardwood.
“I should have picked him up from school. This is on me.”
“Lance, we discussed this. It’s not a long walk from school. We can’t be everywhere—”
Maya’s phone chirped. She saw the caller ID. “It’s the counselor.” She put it on speaker.
“Mr. and Mrs. Manning, thanks for taking my call.” The woman’s voice had a crisp, professional tone. “Let me assure you we’ve found no cause for concern.”
Lance squeezed Maya’s palm. They’d been worried about Lexi’s social distancing. Her estrangement from other kids. Her tendency to scoot straight home after school to play by herself or with her brother—her protector and constant companion.
“So the tests all came back negative?” Maya asked.
A pause. “Not entirely. There is one rare genetic anomaly we identified.”
“Anomaly?” Lance didn’t like the sound of that.
“To be honest, we can’t determine if this particular genetic marker is linked to Lexi’s socialization skills.”
“But an anomaly. That sounds serious.”
“Not at all. Poor choice of words. Everyone has thousands of small differences in their DNA. Sometimes these small differences can have noticeable effects, but more often they do not. In Lexi’s case, there’s no sign she’s at risk. No cause for concern.”
Lance nodded to reassure his wife. He always preferred the glass half full. “Bottom line it for us, doctor.”
“You have a normal, healthy, beautiful little girl who’s a bit shy and developing her social skills at her own pace. Go hug your daughter. These years fly by far too quickly.”
They thanked her and disconnected. Maya raised her eyes to meet his. The late afternoon sun slanted through her dark brown hair, highlighting her cheekbones and classic features. He rested his forehead on hers, smelled her sweet breath.
A creak came from the hallway. They smiled at each other.
“Lexi, is that you?” Maya said.
Their daughter sauntered into the kitchen, downcast. She thrust out her bottom lip and slumped against the wall.
“You think something’s wrong with me. I’m broken.”
“Oh, honey, no.” Maya went over and tousled her hair. “We just wanted to make sure you’re all right, that’s all.”
“It’s because I don’t play with the other kids. Isn’t it?”
Maya wrapped an arm around her daughter’s waist. “Well, why don’t you?”
“Because they treat us like outcasts.”
Lance crouched down. He was still mystified how Lexi could have sensed her twin brother was in trouble. But that could wait.
“What do you mean, outcasts?”
“The older kids call us names. So our classmates just avoid us.”
“What names?”
Lexi cast her eyes down. “They call us the kids without a dad. ’Cause you were gone so long.”
That stung. All those birthdays and holidays he missed because he was stationed overseas. All those weeks and months away from his family—it still tore at him.
“Oh, honey.” Maya caressed the back of Lexi’s neck. “You and your brother shouldn’t have to put up with that. We’ll call the school in the morning.”
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
“Lexi.” Lance reached out to touch her shoulder, but she pulled back, dashed out of the room, and up the stairs.
“Let her go.” Maya went to the sink and began scrubbing plates. “School’s over on Friday.”
An idea began to take hold. A family trip. A change of scenery.
He stepped closer to Maya. “We need family bonding time. How about that trip to DisneyWorld we’ve been putting off?”
She reached up and gave him a kiss. “Great idea.”
Praise for ‘The Golden Relic’
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