Part 5: "Ipsa scientia potestas est." (Knowledge itself is power.) -- Roger Bacon [Early winter, 1608. Indoor plant room, St. Georg Monastery, Prague Castle] "A package for you, my Lord." Jacobus continued to stare at the tender bud he was tending. "Leave it on the table, Maarten," he instructed. "Yes, my Lord." The newly declared noble shook his head. He still wasn't used to the title. He had merely been doing his scientific duty, following his ethic as a physician, when he used his sizable knowledge of herbs and botanicals to cure Emperor Rudolph of his prolonged fever. He certainly hadn't intended to receive anything in return. The title had been more than enough, but when Rudolph had offered Jacobus any material possession he wished.... Turning with a start, he glanced at the neatly wrapped package. It was certainly the correct size.... Wiping the soil from his hands onto his gardening apron, Jacobus hastily walked over to the potting table, and claimed the package. Tearing open the paper, he whistled in a breath, as he held the small, vellum wrapped volume in his hands. Reverently placing it on a clean spot of the table, he carefully unfolded the vellum wrapping, to expose the leather thong bound vellum pages. "Yes... this is it," he excitedly murmured. He had only seen the volume once, Rudolph proudly showing off this latest edition to his arcane library at a social event at the Royal Court. The seemingly indecipherable writing had fascinated him, as well as the vivid water color drawings. He had described the book at length to his friend, Brother Enrique, a Jesuit he had met during his time in Smichov. They shared a love of gardening, and had become fast friends. When Jacobus had been "promoted" to administrator of St. Georg, they had continued their friendship, through detailed correspondence. Enrique had been as enthralled as he, by the book, and when the Emperor had offered any reward, in exchange for his returned health, Jacobus immediately thought of the volume. <<Perhaps Enrique and I will work on breaking its code,>> he mused happily, carefully flipping through the folios. <<I will write him, immediately.>> ###################################### "From Jacobus' original descriptions, I knew it was a copy," Enkidu explained. "Nevertheless, I was still fascinated that a copy existed, and wished to secure its safety. When he wrote to me, explaining how he had procured it as a gift from the Emperor, I was ecstatic. We made plans for me to travel to St. Georg, the following spring, under the false assumption that I would help him translate it." "So, how come you don't have it, now?" "He never got there," Methos interjected. "Nasty things, wars. Get in the way of your carefully laid plans." "There were several decades of unrest, Richie," Enkidu explained. "First, in the religious orders, then in the secular world. Jacobus and I lost touch." "What happened to the book?" Richie inquired. Enkidu sighed. "Somehow, it ended up in the possession of the Jesuits, half a century later. I do not know if Jacobus, himself, arranged for it to end up in their hands, or whether a book dealer was the intermediary. In any case, once it passed into their official control, I knew what would become of it." "It would sit on a shelf, and collect blessed dust." Shooting Methos an amused glanced, Enkidu sighed in defeat. His friend was bound and determined to find humor in all aspects of this twisted and tortured tale. <<Perhaps, he has the right attitude.>> "More or less correct. It stayed, forgotten, in various Jesuit libraries, until Voynich bought it. So, there you have the entire tale. Many have tried to learn its secrets, none have succeeded. I believe none are likely to succeed, any time in the near future. Even if they do, they will, most probably, consider it a fantasy, and be sorely disappointed." "Right, Immortality isn't real," Richie joked, winking at the Akkadian. "Poor deluded old monk." "Watch it, Richie, you're sitting next to one," Methos teased, smirking madly at his Akkadian friend. Enkidu sighed, raising his nearly depleted beer in toast. "Not deluded, just forgetful, at times. Forgetful of counting his current blessings, and not worrying so much about the past." "I'll drink to that!" Richie raised his bottle in salute, then chugged down the remainder of his beer. "Besides, we can always take a roadtrip to Yale, and check out the book, if you really want." "Yes, and Richie can spring it for you. Distract a few guards, pick a few locks...." As the playful teasing quickly escalated, Enkidu smiled contentedly. Yes, despite the mayhem of the past few days, life was, most definitely, returning to normal. Or, as normal as the secrets of Immortality would allow. The End