Temporal Gambit

by Larry A. Brown

  They maneuvered away from the crowd, down a side street, and into a building which looked abandoned from the boarded-up windows. Someone else waited in the shadows. When the figure turned toward them, Martin froze as he recognized the man as his mysterious pursuer.

  22

  “Don’t be alarmed,” the woman assured him. “He’s with me. We were sent to watch over you. That was a close call.”

  “Why? What happens in those centers?”

  “From what we’ve heard, the people, men and women together, remove their clothing and go down into a large pool supposedly for spiritual decontamination. But the Ministry of Purity does something to the water in the pool. We’re not sure what, but … those who go through the Cleansing don’t come back.”

  Martin grimaced. “That’s terrible. I guess that’s why it doesn’t matter about the mixing of the sexes.”

  “Precisely,” the woman agreed. “It’s their final commingling.”

  The man added, “To the Essenes, they’re all Kittim, anyway.”

  The word sounded familiar. “They called me that in the prison. What does it mean? And more importantly, who are you?”

  “There is much to explain, but we must get to sanctuary now. Come this way.”

  Sensing he could trust them, Martin followed the duo down a flight of stairs into a basement. The woman lifted a grate on the floor, revealing a ladder which they descended to an underground passage. They walked in silence some distance through a natural cave system which eventually opened up to a cavernous room with a brilliant white floor.

  Martin recognized it as the Snowy River Cave a few miles outside Roswell, which he had wanted to tour with Andrea. I’ve certainly taken the long way around to get here. The guidebooks had described the cave system as the third longest in New Mexico, stretching over thirty miles. The unique floor of the cave had formed over centuries from deposits of white calcite, creating the appearance of a snow-covered, frozen river, hence the name. The white surface glowed under the artificial lights which illuminated the space.

  Martin passed several men, women, and young children as the pair led him through the cavern. The people went about their tasks, giving the impression of an established community living here underground. At present, they were busy preparing the evening meal at a central work station surrounded by tables. The children ran around playing games. In side passageways, he saw tents and areas separated by stacked rocks that provided private living quarters.

  An older woman approached them and raised her hands in greeting. “Welcome to the Way.”

  “Thank you, but pardon me, the way to what?”

  “Only the Way. That’s what we call ourselves, our faith community here. I’m sure you have many questions, but first, come and eat.”

  With his stomach growling, he didn’t refuse the offer. He sat at one table where the people served him a simple but tasty meal. Both men and women ate together; the rules of segregation didn’t apply here. The woman who had greeted him brought a man about her age with her to sit beside him.

  “We hear that you are in some trouble with the authorities,” the man said. “If that’s the case, you are in good company here. Many of our people have displeased the Essene majority for challenging their ideology.”

  “I see. So you are a secret group of resistance fighters?”

  “Not fighters, no. Not in the sense you suggest. Our means of resisting are peaceful. Truly, we only want the freedom to practice our beliefs.”

  “And what are those?”

  “Come, let us show you.” They rose from the table and led him to another chamber where a man spoke to a small group. Dressed in a long robe, he resembled someone from biblical times. They stopped to listen while he addressed the people: “The I AM wants us to live in peace with one another, even our enemies, those who persecute us. If we speak words of peace, we are truly blessed and a blessing to the world.”

  Martin reacted in disbelief. “That man sounds like … but no, that’s impossible. In this timeline, could he have come again? Tell me, does this man claim to be the Messiah?”

  “Oh, no.” The woman smiled. “This is David, one of our most effective reciters. To keep the words of the Master alive, he repeats the teachings of Yeshua to the people, but several of our members also serve as reciters.” Studying the man more closely, Martin thought he saw a resemblance to the David he knew from the Chronos Project, but he couldn’t be certain; the beard made him look very different.

  “The Messiah walked the earth ages ago, not long after the Essene’s time of Visitation,” the man explained. “They tried to suppress the teachings of Yeshua, burning the copies of the sacred texts, but the Way survived nonetheless. Over the centuries, the faithful memorized his sayings and passed them down from generation to generation. Our numbers are small, but we persist in maintaining our ancient faith.”

  Martin reflected on his own upbringing in the Catholic church. His mother and sisters still attended Mass faithfully, although he hadn’t in years. “Are there other communities like yours?”

  “Yes, we estimate several million continue in the Way, scattered through the country, but in secret places such as this, since the Essenes allow no other faiths but theirs.”

  “What do you know about the Jewish people? What happened to them?”

  The woman replied with conviction. “Several of us here, including myself, descend from that chosen nation. Yeshua was himself a Jew, and we accept him as the One of the Promise. Other Jews still wait for another messiah to come. In the early times, they were persecuted because they did not join the holy wars of the Essenes.”

  With vehemence the man added, “Truly, the despots of this age do not serve the God of Yeshua, nor do they represent the righteous heritage of his people.”

  “Do any of these other Jews still exist?”

  “We hear rumors that those who survived the terrible Purging of Palestine, as it’s called, migrated to the island of Cyprus, built a temple, and have lived there in isolation for centuries, but no official records admit this. I wish we had more information about them. We feel that we are fellow travelers with these children of Abraham.”

  The researcher in him wanted to learn more about the paths this alternate past had taken, but Martin realized he had a timeline to repair. “I need to know more about the history of the Essenes. I must find a way to resist them as well, but by means I cannot clearly explain to you.”

  “Sarah here is our resident expert. She has studied their development at length and even has a copy of their War Scroll. I’ll leave you to discuss these matters in more detail.” The man shook Martin’s hand and walked toward the group still listening to the reciter.

  “I’m grateful for anything you can tell me, Sarah. I confess to being an avid student of history myself.”

  “A kindred spirit, how wonderful! Yes, we can only understand the present if we view it through the lens of the past.” With the enthusiasm one scholar shares with another, Sarah launched into her explanation.

  “Two thousand years ago, the original Essenes considered themselves the righteous remnant spoken of by the prophet Isaiah. They called themselves the Yahad, meaning ‘community,’ in order to differentiate themselves from the rest of the Jews, whom they labeled the Breakers of the Covenant. They placed all who opposed them in the same category.”

  Walking over to a shelf, she selected one of the few volumes, studied the index, then turned to a page. “The War Scroll says, ‘Accursed be Belial for his reprehensible rule. And cursed are all the Kittim who gather round him to join in his wickedness. A thousand curses on all their filthy works. Truly they dwell in the pit of darkness.’ Belial seems to personify evil and may be the name of a demon, but we’re not sure.”

  She paused and smiled as two children ran by, laughing. “We have our own little demons to contend with here. But they are a blessing, unlike the ones out there.”

  “I’ve heard that term, ‘Kittim,’ several times. What does it mean?
”

  “The Kittim originally referred to Gentile nations who were the enemies of ancient Israel, but the Scroll applies the term to all those whom they call the Sons of Darkness, including those Jews who didn’t join their cause.”

  “So if you aren’t with them, you are against them.”

  “Exactly. Only those who keep themselves clean and pure by the rules of the Manual of Discipline can be called Sons of Light.”

  “Hence all the emphasis on ritual washings supervised by the Ministry of Purity.”

  “We suspect there’s more to the current practice than religious ceremony,” Sarah said. “There’s evidence to suggest the Ministry puts addictive chemicals in the water to encourage more washing but also that suppress the sex drive.”

  “What about the Temple of Cleansing? I almost experienced that today. Is it true that those poor people are being killed? Why?”

  She turned to another page in the book. “The Ministry cites this text as justification: ‘None who are deformed or blind or lame shall go with them. They must be pure in spirit and flesh.’ The so-called Cleansings are actually purges removing the undesirables from society.”

  “I saw crippled and deaf people standing in the lines. Why would they go willingly to their deaths?”

  “Propaganda. The official reason given for the Cleansings is spiritual rejuvenation. We’ve only recently learned of their true purpose.”

  “Much like the Nazis sending people to the showers.”

  Sarah looked puzzled. “Pardon me? Who are they?”

  “Never mind, long story. But why was I singled out for the Cleansing today by two different men?”

  “I notice that you have an unusual characteristic: one blue eye and one gray eye.”

  Martin grinned. “I always liked that feature. I thought it made me unique.”

  “Yes, precisely. In this society, you don’t want to stand out.”

  These revelations made Martin tremble with rage. Xenox had gone too far in creating this nightmarish reality, and he had to be stopped. But how?

  “Sarah, what can you tell me about the Angel of Light? Can you give me some details of what occurred at the Visitation?”

  “Even Essene scholars admit that the First Visitation lacks credible documentation. The stories about it are more legend than history. They know the year that established the current calendar, but not the day or exactly what happened then.”

  “Wait a minute. You describe it as a first visit; so did the maggid I consulted earlier today. Were there more appearances?”

  “They speak about a Second Visitation, yes. It occurred several years later. But I admit that I have not studied this topic in any detail.”

  “Then I must see the maggid again and question him. I need to learn more.”

  “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow. You don’t realize it down here in the caves, but it’s the middle of the night. You may rest here in safety tonight. We will provide a guide to assist you in your search in the morning. Don’t worry; the troubles of this world will still be here for you to solve.”

  23

  2166 AV: day three

  The next morning after breakfast, Martin considered his plans for the day. First, he had to locate the maggid and get more information about the Second Visitation. Assuming this would help him pinpoint the time and place, he then had to find his way back to the Chronos Project and program the coordinates for the jump. That would be tricky since he had never operated the computers himself.

  “LOGOS, if we make it back to the lab, can you assist with the technical preparations for the time jump?”

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  “Yes, I suppose it’s unlikely that computer language evolved in precisely the same way in two realities. Another thing occurs to me. Even if we manage to make the jump, I don’t have a chamo-suit since the Essenes confiscated it at my arrest.”

  <>

  “Good idea. I’ll ask our friends here if they have an extra robe.”

  Sarah was more than happy to oblige him. He tucked the thin garment inside his shirt and said his goodbyes to the leaders of the Way, thanking them for their hospitality.

  The same man and woman who had rescued him the day before led him through the caverns back toward the city. He suspected that he was receiving a more extensive tour of the Snowy River Caves than he would have gotten in his original timeline.

  His guides didn’t talk much, so he focused on examining the stalagmite formations along the way. To amuse himself, he gave names to the unusual shapes. One resembled a sleeping dog, which stirred a curious memory at the back of his mind: did he have a pet in the previous reality? Details of that life were becoming hazy.

  Eventually, they reached the city, and he climbed up to the main floor of the abandoned building. Someone was waiting for him.

  “You!”

  “Hello again, Martin,” Andrea responded with a smile. “Our destinies are tied together, it seems. They contacted me about an escort through the city. I didn’t want to involve any others in what I assume will be a risky trip. So here I am. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all, Andrea. I appreciate your willingness to help and will enjoy your company.”

  “I doubt this journey will provide much enjoyment for either of us.” Turning to the others, she said, “Thank you for watching out for him yesterday. You probably saved his life.”

  “Don’t mention it. You have provided invaluable assistance to us in the past. We owe you many times over. Go in peace.” With that, they descended back down to the caves.

  “Andrea, are you a follower of Yeshua?” In his previous life, he’d never thought to ask if she were religious.

  “No, not officially, although I sympathize with much of what they believe. I’m on the side of all who stand for liberty from these oppressors. That’s why I asked the Way to watch after you. I don’t know how exactly, but I feel you are the key to ending all this madness.”

  He wasn’t sure he shared her confidence. “While you were undercover, how much did you learn about the Chronos Project?”

  “Enough to understand why the authorities feared it and you so much. I don’t comprehend the science, and I admit the unforeseen consequences of changing time frighten me. But radical surgery is necessary to remove the cancer which this society has become. I want to help you even if we risk violating the segregation laws. So what’s our plan? Where do we go first?”

  “We need to find the maggid I spoke to yesterday and ask him about other appearances by the alien … uh, the angel after the first visit. Any details he can give may prove helpful.”

  “Most days one of the storytellers shows up in the park on Azazel Drive. That might be the man you saw. We’ll try there first. Remember, at least for now, we should walk on opposite sides of the street so we don’t attract unwanted attention.”

  Taking her advice, Martin waited at the door until Andrea had crossed to the other sidewalk and proceeded in the direction of the park. He followed at a discreet distance until he saw the same man from yesterday, sitting on a bench and feeding the birds as he waited for his pupils. Andrea stayed at the corner, pretending to read the official bulletins posted there, while he approached the maggid. Clearly startled to see him, the elderly man rose and tried to escape, but Martin grabbed his wrist.

  “Yes, I’m the one you attempted to get rid of yesterday. I decided I didn’t need a bath, not that kind, at least.”

  “I don’t know what you are implying. I meant no harm. Every person should benefit from spiritual regeneration.”

  “Skip the official propaganda, old man. I’m tired of the lies. I need straight information and now. Tell me about the Second Visitation by the angel.”

  “I don’t see how —”

  “Tell me, or I’ll break your arm. You look frail enough to snap in two.”
Martin hoped that his tone of voice didn’t give away that he was bluffing. He’d never threatened anyone with physical violence in his life.

  Frightened, the man sat back down. “Yes, certainly; please don’t hurt me. I’ll tell you everything.” Martin released him, and he rubbed his wrist. “By the time of the Second Visitation, the people had taken the fortress of Masada from the heathen tyrant and made it their military command center. They —”

  “Masada? You mean the desert stronghold built by Herod the Great?”

  “That’s right. You have studied your history. At that place, Michael returned and presented them with an unusual scroll made entirely of copper. On it were engraved the secret locations of immense treasures which they could use to recruit and support their armies. With these resources they soon would —”

  “When did this second visit occur? Do we know the date?”

  “Yes. Unlike the first, the people recorded this important occasion with accuracy. The ancient texts say that Michael returned in the seventh year after the Roman usurper vanquished the adulterous rebels of Egypt. They specify that he appeared on the day of the long night.”

  Martin dismissed the man and signaled to Andrea to go to their prearranged meeting place in front of the Temple of Cleansing. At least there, a man and woman could stand together without suspicion. He took a slight detour to avoid the Watchers patrolling the area.

  When they met, he explained in a hushed but excited tone, “I believe I’ve got what we need. The maggid mentioned the ‘vanquishing of the adulterous rebels of Egypt.’ That must refer to the Battle of Actium in 31 BC when Octavian defeated the naval fleets of Antony and Cleopatra. That was a major turning point in Roman history. Seven years later would bring us to 24 BC.”

  She looked confused.

  “I’m sorry. We use those dates where I’m from. Let’s see, that would be …” He did the math in his head. “I think that’s 83 AV in your terms. Then he said the visit occurred on the day of the long night, which I assume describes the winter solstice.”