"When considering spiritual matters, Susan, the most important thing to remember is a true spiritual teacher will always have you seek Truth within yourself. False prophets will ask you to look outside yourself for Truth. They will pound a book and say, ‘Truth lies here.’ They will preach from the mountaintops and say, ‘Listen to me.’ They will tell you, ‘Unburden your pockets of your ill-gotten money and give it to me so I may continue God's work,’ as if somehow removing the money from your pocket and depositing it in theirs purifies it of its evil.
"Susan, the true prophet of God will say to you, ‘The Kingdom of Heaven lies within you.’ He will tell you, ‘To thine own self be true.’ He will always answer your questions truthfully, but will not feed you answers, nor be defensive when questioned. Above all else, he will demonstrate Truth by his own actions, leading by his example, and will never display his powers to coerce or convince. He will project pure love to all, even those who would seek to destroy him. There will always be many seeking to destroy him.
"Never be ashamed for questioning those you have chosen to follow. It is by questioning that a person renews their commitment to their spiritual quest. The mind which seeks Truth must always keep itself fresh to new ideas, and questions are the means by which it accomplishes that. Truth itself never changes, but how Truth is perceived is ever-changing. The ability to discern will be a necessary ability in the days to come."
He began walking again and chuckled, “Forgive me, Susan. Sometimes I get too long winded. An old man's failing, I fear."
Susan remained silent for a while then said, “Father Angelino, sometimes I think I will never really understand anything. I'm not sure why I am here ... what force compelled me to follow you. That's just not me."
Angelino stopped again. “Susan, do you wish to leave and return to your old life? If that is your desire, I will do all I can to help you return. My course is set. I believe yours is as well, but it is what you believe ... it is where your heart leads you... which must determine the course of your own life."
"Oh, no, Father Angelino. I don't want to leave,” she protested. “I just need to know what to do about this restlessness inside me. I need to know what it means. It disturbs me deeply."
They continued walking. Angelino said without emotion, “Nevertheless, you will leave me soon ... at least for a time.” She started to protest, but stopped herself. Angelino was right. Somehow she had always known it.
* * * *
"MR. WILLS. PACKAGE for you.” The delivery boy placed the small parcel on Arnold Wills’ desk and then stood politely, waiting for his tip. Arnold slipped him a couple dollars and he exited with a “Thank you."
The package was about six inches square and wrapped in brown paper. The address had been handwritten on the package. There was no return address, but the postmark was French. Puzzled, he began to unwrap it. Inside was a small box. He opened it and gasped. Inside the box was a human finger bearing a large ring. He recognized it as Julian's Harvard ring.
He sat back in his chair, his heart pounding. He pulled a note out of the package and read it: “We regret to inform you of the untimely death of Frederick Valjean. Send no one else.” There was no signature. The message was clear. Julian had been murdered. That meant he had found The Council... that it, indeed, did exist. And that meant the de Charny family was at the heart of it somehow. More importantly, The Council had been alerted to his investigation. They knew he knew.
He was jarred out of his thoughts by the voice of one of his staff. They were all gathered around a small television which was perpetually tuned into the cable news station NBS. “Mr. Wills. The Pope is dead."
"What?” Coincidence?
"The news says he died in his sleep. Natural causes. The new pope will be selected later this week, after the Pope's funeral. The smart money is on Cardinal MacArthur."
Arnold closed up the package hastily and picked up the phone. He had two calls to make ... Harold and Ray Cutler.
* * * *
"SUSAN! ANGELINO! WHAT a pleasant surprise.” Jesus’ broad smile indicated his genuine pleasure at seeing them. He dropped his axe next to a freshly chopped pile of wood.
"You're pretty good with that axe there, Jesus,” Angelino said. “Is this Armand Mathias’ idea?"
Jesus laughed. “I know what you are thinking. No, it was my idea. The exercise is good for me. I don't have much else to do, it seems. Besides, I feel comfortable working with wood."
The sound of their voices brought the others outside. Steven's face lit up at the sight of Susan. “Susan. Father Angelino. What brings you to this neck of the woods?"
The sour look on Mathias’ face made it clear he did not share the jubilation of his cabinmates. He stood in the doorway frowning at the happy scene in front of him. John pushed his way past him.
"What's going on?” Then he spotted Susan and Angelino. “Oh, hi there,” he waved.
Mathias slowly walked toward them. He made no effort to hide his displeasure as he addressed Angelino. “Why are you here?"
Angelino ignored Mathias’ attitude and smiled at him broadly. He offered his hand. “I'm Angelino. And you are Armand Mathias. I'm quite familiar with your work."
Mathias refused the proffered handshake.
"I sense you are displeased with me, Reverend Mathias,” Angelino's eyes twinkled. “I cannot imagine why. If it were not for me, you would not be on a first name basis with Jesus, would you?"
Steven and John laughed. “He's got a point, Armand,” John said. “Don't pay any attention to him, Father Angelino. His ass is so tight you couldn't pull a pin out of it with a pair of pliers."
Everyone laughed except Mathias.
Angelino said to Mathias somberly, “Whether you like it or not, young man, things in your world are about to change dramatically. It is time to introduce our friend to the world."
"You can't be serious,” Mathias said. “He isn't ready for that."
John jumped in. “How do you know that, Mathias? Father Angelino is correct. We can't keep Jesus here indefinitely."
"Father Angelino,” Susan said, “Are you sure? I don't want to see anything happen to him."
Mathias flared at Angelino, “Who do you think you are, barging in like this and telling us what to do? Where were you while we were taking care of him? You drop off a shroud, say, ‘clone him,’ and waltz away to wherever it is crazy old priests go when they aren't butting into people's business, then think you can just take over. I don't think so."
"Does anyone care to know what I think?” They all turned toward Jesus.
Angelino said, “Jesus is right. It is his life and the choice should be his. Son, what is it you would like to do?"
"You have all been very kind to me. It has been difficult for me. More than you may know. I remember who I am, and yet I do not feel connected to those memories."
Steven and John exchanged a significant glance.
"I have read your religious books and watched some of your religious services on the television. I find your interpretation of my words ... odd. I have gotten a second-hand look at the world. I can tell you no one from my time could have ever imagined such a world as you have built. But, I think I will like this world. I would like very much to experience it for myself. I feel I can fit in here."
Mathias spoke up. “What do you mean, Jesus? ‘Fit in here?’ This world is a hellhole, full of sin and degradation. How can you say you want to know such a world?"
Jesus shrugged his shoulders, “I don't know, Armand. Maybe it's because it is all so new to me. Perhaps I have been brought back to save the world once again. I feel I must continue that which I began two thousand years ago."
Susan listened and watched Jesus. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something felt out of kilter. Something vaguely and peripherally hovering at the fringes of her awareness didn't feel right to her. She noticed Angelino watching her, undoubtedly reading her face as he always did. He winked at her and then smiled ... an odd gesture
under the circumstances, she thought.
Jesus stood and began pacing back and forth. To Susan, it almost looked as if he was being charged with a life force. His eyes seemed to glow as if the soul looking out from behind them was undergoing some sort of dramatic transformation. His demeanor changed. In a matter of moments, the uncertainty and confused innocence was replaced by the form of one of total command and ... something that Susan could not quite find a word for. Although it was the same Jesus who stood before them ... the same form ... the lifeforce that now inhabited him was dramatically altered.
His eyes swept the group slowly, fixing hard on hers. She felt cold fear grip her heart. She broke eye contact, unable to endure the internal pressure of the encounter. A barely perceptible smile crossed his face momentarily then it became passive and serene once again. All of this transpired in a matter of seconds.
Susan shook her head to clear it.
"Ms. Morgan, are you all right?” Steven said, with honest concern.
She looked at him through confused eyes. No one else seemed to have noticed what she had seen ... if she had in fact actually seen what she thought she had. She suddenly wasn't certain. The others seemed to be oblivious to any transformation in Jesus. She looked over at him and his eyes met hers. At first glance, he seemed unchanged. But then something in his eyes flared imperceptibly, as if to let her know he knew she had seen.
Susan swung to look at Angelino, who also seemed to be unaware of anything unusual. What exactly was it I thought I saw?
"Yes, Doctor Hamilton,” she finally responded. “I'm fine. Just a little tired."
Jesus continued pacing once again, as if in deep thought. Finally, he spoke once again, this time with more confidence.
"I must go before the people of your time. My Father speaks to me and tells me I have much work to do here. A Golden Age is on the horizon and I must help mankind build it. I must right the errors of your holy books about me and show the world my true nature. The stories of me are so tangled and confused that it is no wonder you have been unable to understand anything.
"I will go out into the world and lead the people to this new Golden Age.” He paused for a moment and looked up at them with beseeching eyes. “If I do not do it, who will?"
They were all buying it, Susan noticed. Why wasn't she? Again, his eyes met hers and she felt the icy grip of fear.
Jesus looked directly at Mathias and said seriously, “Armand, will you follow me?"
"What?” Armand choked.
"Will you follow me?” he repeated, a bit more firmly this time, looking directly into Mathias’ eyes.
Mathias seemed to go blank. Finally, he answered quietly, “Yes, of course I will."
* * * *
Steven and John were staring, jaws agape. What was going on here all of a sudden? A few moments ago, Jesus had been a quiet but kindly man who gave forth an image of almost naive innocence. Now, suddenly he was seized with a newfound zeal. Perhaps this was a further awakening of inert memories. Steven made a mental note to record all of this in the journal he was keeping.
* * * *
Jesus turned to Angelino. “How about you, Angelino? Will you follow me?” All eyes fixed on Angelino.
Angelino smiled. “I'm afraid my destiny takes me on a different path."
Jesus nodded. Then he turned to Susan. “Will you follow me, Susan Morgan?"
Susan felt dizzy and confused. She thought she saw an expression of concern cross Angelino's face for a moment. She breathed deeply to regain her composure. Why was she so unsettled by this Jesus? Cold fear again consumed her.
Jesus’ eyes bore in on her. “Will you follow me, Susan?” he asked again, in a deep, commanding tone.
Susan felt her legs grow wobbly and struggled to remain standing. She was forced to lean upon Steven for support, much to her embarrassment.
"Are you sure you're all right, Susan?” he asked.
She nodded her head, unable to summon the effort to speak.
"Here, let me take you inside for a moment to lie down. You don't look well.” He led her into the cabin, while the others watched silently.
Jesus looked at John, who held up his hand and said, “Count me out, Jesus. I'm not the disciple type."
Steven emerged from the cabin.
"How is she, Doctor Hamilton?” Angelino asked.
"She'll be okay. She is resting on the couch."
Suddenly, the air was pierced by Susan's excited scream. “Father Angelino!"
Everyone rushed into the cabin. Susan was sitting up, watching the television.
"What is it, Susan?” Angelino said. “What's the matter?"
She pointed at the television. “Pope Timothy is dead."
The newscaster was reading the story about how Timothy had died of natural causes last night in his sleep.
Angelino slumped into a nearby chair. It was the first time Susan had seen him effected by anything.
"I'm sorry, Father Angelino,” Susan said. She walked over and put her arms around him. Her eyes filled with tears of sympathy “I know he was your friend. He was a good man."
Angelino looked up at her and returned the embrace. Then he said, without rancor, “No, Susan. He was not a particularly good man. But ... he was once my good friend."
Angelino leapt to his feet suddenly, his mind clearly onto other matters. He said to Steven, “I see you have video equipment. I must make another tape for broadcast. We must prepare the world for Jesus’ arrival. May Susan and I use your equipment?"
"Of course, Father Angelino. Use anything you need. John, will you give them a hand?"
"Sure, Steven."
"Thank you. Let's get to it. There is no time to delay."
As they hastened to arrange the room for recording, only Susan saw the smile on Jesus’ face.
* * * *
"THANK YOU FOR meeting me like this, Senator Bennett. I know this is highly irregular.” Arnold could barely see the senator sitting across the table in the dim lighting of the café. He had chosen this place because it was out of the way and virtually eliminated any chance of the press learning of this very legally tenuous meeting. Harold nodded his acknowledgment.
Arnold continued, “I am violating the Special Prosecutor statute by meeting with you like this, Senator. I hope you understand only a matter of the gravest importance would compel me to do something like this."
"Arnold, your reputation is well known. Were it otherwise, I would not be here with you. I can't afford to be found compromising your investigation any more than you."
Arnold nodded, “Understood.” He took a sip of his drink before continuing. “Do you remember asking me if I was looking into the link between Crowley and The Exalted Council of Most Highs the priest Angelino talked about?"
"Of course."
"I sent one of my men to France to investigate a possible link. To be more accurate, I wanted to establish such an organization even existed. I sent Julian Michaels over there. I believe he worked for you once?"
"Yes. He was one of my aides many years ago. A fine young man. Good investigative mind."
"He was murdered."
"What?! Are you serious?"
"I received a package from France, with this note ... and one of Julian's fingers. The finger bearing his Harvard ring. He never removed it. It may even have been what gave him away."
Harold looked over the note. “They realize you know. What's more, they don't seem to be too concerned that you do.’”
"Yes, Harold, and that's what disturbs me the most. They are acting as if they are untouchable ... almost taunting us."
Harold stiffened as he noticed a lone male figure enter the café, look around for a moment, and then head over to where he and Arnold were seated. Who knew they were there? Arnold caught the shadowy figure out of the corner of his eyes and noticed Harold's tension.
"It's okay, Harold. I invited Ray Cutler to join us."
"Are you crazy?
"Take it easy, Senator. Cutler is
the only person I can reach who has had contact with Father Angelino. I thought it would be useful for the three of us to pool our resources."
Harold said, “I don't like it, Arnold. You can't trust the press."
"Maybe not. But I can trust Ray Cutler."
Ray arrived at their booth and slid in next to Arnold. He said quietly, “Senator Bennett, I didn't expect to find you here.” Then, to Arnold, “Care to tell me what's going on here? You know this meeting is totally inappropriate."
Arnold brought Ray up to speed on the Julian's death and his investigation into The Council. Ray added his own piece of news to the mix. “I guess you haven't heard yet. Pope Timothy is dead, too. Died of ‘natural causes’ in his sleep, the Vatican says."
"Jesus,” Harold hissed. “What the hell is going on here?"
"Julian faxed me some photos. He was following a lead on a de Charny family in France. Old money, family history going back as far as we can trace it. He sent these.” Arnold produced a folder and spread its contents on the table. They were grainy photos of the three generations of de Charny's. Ray's eyes widened.
"I know this man,” he said, pointing to the photo of Gerrard. “He came to my office about ten days ago and tried to bully me into discrediting the Angelino tape. Said he was speaking for ‘financial interests’ in Europe. When bullying didn't work, he tried to buy me. I showed him the door ... gave him a flying lesson."
"Are you certain it was this man, Ray?” Arnold asked.
"I'm positive. I'd know that smarmy sneer anywhere."
"So what do we have here, gentlemen?” Harold interjected. “What's the bottom line?"
"What we have, Senator,” Arnold announced, “is a world-wide conspiracy every bit as far reaching, every bit as powerful as Father Angelino warned us ... maybe even bigger than he knows himself."
"Why are you risking your investigation to tell us this, Arnold?” Harold asked warily. “Why would you do that?"
Arnold considered this for a moment. “You two are the most honest gentlemen I know. Yet you are both tough and not unfamiliar with how to play hardball if the need arises. You are well respected by your peers and the American people. This conspiracy has already been revealed by Father Angelino, but most people don't believe him. The Vatican and our own White House have worked very hard to discredit Angelino, and they have been quite successful in doing so. Separately, the three of us are open to the charge of having our own personal agendas by our adversaries. But together, people will believe us. Senator Bennett here is a hard-core Republican, right? You, Ray, are an old Roosevelt Democrat. Me, I'm the out-of-control-special-prosecutor-hell-bent-on-destroying-a-good-and-noble-president."
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