by Thorpe, K.
The priest continues, “My son…”
Tattoo man angrily interrupts him, “I need to be forgiven!” He jumps up from the confession booth and slams his hands against the metal divider, hitting it over and over again. His hands are cut and begin to bleed.
Tattoo man pleads, “Please Father…forgive me!” He sobs as he maneuvers out of the booth, falling to his knees, where his bloody hands blend with the plush red carpeting. In agony, tattoo man peers out toward the other people of various faiths, sobbing uncontrollably.
The vision shifts and Natan finds herself standing in a dimly lit parking lot of a vacant warehouse. She looks around, appearing confused and unsure. In the distance a man’s voice calls to her, “Who can you trust, Agent Natan?”
Natan tries to pull her gun and finds an empty holster. Visibly shaken, she replies, “Who’s there?”
The man’s voice is closer, “If you have no God…then, who can you trust, Agent Natan?”
Natan backtracks, hastily looking for an escape. “Who are you?”
The man’s voice surrounds her. “The answer is…no one.”
A shot rings out from the darkness. Natan’s body falls to the ground, her head hitting the ground in slow motion. Blood gently streams from the back of her neck onto the cement near her.
Natan’s vision shifts back to the priest as he steps out of the confession booth and places his hand on the crying tattoo man’s head. With his head bowed, the priest absolves him, “You are a man of God and follow his word.”
A single tear falls from the priest’s eye. Natan sees Mayan symbols reflected in it. The priest touches his tear as it falls and, using his fingers, blesses the tattoo man in an upside-down and backward shape of a cross. “In the name of the Holy Spirit…the Son…and the Father. You are forgiven, my son.”
On the busy street, an out-of-breath Natan jerks back from a chaotic roller coaster of sorts, pulling away from the tattoo man and freeing herself from their entanglement. The tattoo man inquires, “Ms. Are you okay?”
Natan is shocked and frazzled. The only sound she can hear is her racing heartbeat. She rubs her forehead with one hand. Collecting herself, she replies, “I’m fine. Again, I apologize.” Natan starts to walk away as the tattoo man rushes after her.
Tattoo man picks up the dropped page. “You dropped this.”
Natan turns around as the he hands her the paper. Natan reaches out for it.
Natan sees Mayan symbols reflected in his eyes from the page. She jerks back. She looks back at the document. No sign of the symbols…the page appears normal.
Tattoo man asks, “Are you sure you’re okay, ma’am?” He extends the page again
and hands it to Natan, who reaches out for it. Natan and tattoo man stare into one another’s eyes. Natan slowly takes the page. She walks away with page in hand, glancing down at its normalcy, and then turns around once more to look at the tattoo man. Natan’s face reflects her recognition of subtle familiarity.
Tattoo man stands looking after Natan. She walks on, inching away from the darkness. He watches her until she vanishes in the distance and pulls a photo from his inside pocket. He gently touches a recent photo of Natan, caressing it between his thumb and his forefinger.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Inside Natan’s house, she sleeps on her couch, with several articles in opposition to the Bible Code strewn around her. One specific article titled “The Bible Code Is a Fallacy” rests on her abdomen. The phone rings, startling Natan awake. Must you wake me every damn time I’m sleeping, Professor? The phone rings again as Natan pulls herself up from the couch and makes her way to quiet the harassment. All right already. Natan picks up the phone. “Hello.”
A man’s voice answers, “Agent Natan?”
Unsure of whom she is speaking with Natan responds, “Yeah…”
“Hello, Agent. This is Dr. Berk from Virginia. I’m returning your phone call.” Natan doesn’t reply. Dr. Berk continues, “Agent Natan?”
Natan gets her bearings, “Yes. Sorry, I thought you were someone else. Thank you for getting back to me so quickly.”
“You said that the N.S.A. had urgent questions about my work on the Bib…”
Natan cuts his sentence short, “Yes…that’s right.”
“I’m more than happy to help the N.S.A. with anything they need in this matter. What information are you looking for?” he replies.
“I’d rather discuss this in person, Dr. Berk. I’ll be in Virginia tomorrow and was wondering if we could arrange a meeting.”
“I have lectures in the morning until ten. What time were you thinking?”
“Mid-morning…perhaps eleven?” she suggests.
“That should work for me. I’ll arrange it and adjust the remainder of my schedule if necessary,” he replies.
“Great. I’ll come to you at your office.”
“Okay. My office is on the side south of town…”
Natan cuts Dr. Berk off again, “It’s all right. I’ll find you.”
“Well, okay. I’ll see you then.”
“See you then.” Natan starts to hang up the phone and hears a quiet clicking.
Outside Natan’s house, van man sits in a van labeled “Mark’s Plumbing,” parked on the street just down the way from her house. He fiddles with recording equipment as he pulls out a cell phone, then uncoordinatedly dials a number. The van man speaks to his caller. “She’s meeting a Dr. Berk tomorrow morning in Virginia at eleven a.m.”
A male voice replies, “I’m on it.”
The van man hangs up the phone. What are you up to today, Agent Natan?
Inside her house, Natan stands looking out the window at the van, staring knowingly. First it’s a heating company, now it’s a plumber. That Mark’s a busy guy. Natan runs her fingers through her hair.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Several trees line the walks outside of Dr. Berk’s office building. Natan walks up to the entrance of the building. A man with binoculars peers at her from a nearby rooftop. An unaware Natan is oblivious.
Inside the building Natan stands outside a door labeled “Dr. Simon Berk, Ph.D.”
She pauses. I guess a skeptic always doubts. Natan opens the door and enters the reception area of Dr. Berk’s office. She sees a secretary seated behind a desk near the entrance. The secretary greets her, “Good morning. You must be Dr. Berk’s eleven o’clock.”
“Yes,” Natan says.
“Okay. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” she acknowledges.
The secretary picks up the phone as Natan takes in the visuals of the office.
She eyes Dr. Berk’s many awards, accolades, and credentials strewn on every wall. The secretary puts down the phone and motions to Natan. “Go right in.”
“Thank you.” Natan walks through another door.
In the interior of the office, Dr. Berk, a handsome forty-nine-year-old professor, sits
behind a perfectly organized desk. He rises to greet Natan, extending his hand. “You were correct, Agent Natan…”
Natan shakes his hand, unsure of what he means. “I’m sorry?”
“You found me…no problem.”
Natan smiles. “It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I’m surprised you’re not listed, Dr. Berk, with all of the information available about you on the Net.”
“Please,” a smiling Dr. Berk motions Natan to sit down in a chair in front of his
desk.
Natan sits. “Thank you.”
Dr. Berk continues, “Privacy is an allusive thing these days…but I’m sure a person in your position understands that.”
“Yes. I understand that very well,” she replies.
An inquisitive Dr. Berk asks, “So…tell me, when did the N.S.A. become interested in the Bible Code? I never would have imagined this research would ever be on their radar.”
Natan stammers, “Well, uh…the N.S.A. just recently came across information about the Code. We hear that
there are new claims that the Bible Code may actually hold mathematical certainties that help prove its validity.”
“Agent Natan…that’s impossible. I’ve been researching the Bible Code for a decade now and, I’m sorry to say, you’ve been misinformed. The Bible Code proponents have used the same claims that they always have…and they’re just as invalid as they have historically been. I can’t believe the N.S.A. would have any interest in this fabrication.”
“Dr. Berk, you’re telling me you’ve found no scientific data in support of the Bible Code?”
“It’s a fairy tale, Agent Natan. Let’s just say the research supporting the Code isn’t sound…and there is an incredible amount of concrete scientific proof in opposition to the Code.”
“What proof?”
“You mean to tell me that the N.S.A. doesn’t know about the research done with the books War and Peace and Moby-Dick?”
Natan jokes, “We used all of our resources locating you, Dr. Berk. Let’s just assume that the N.S.A. knows very little about any opposition to the Code.” She smiles. “We’re relying on your expertise, so, please…fill me in.”
“Right. Well, then…you should know that researchers applied equidistant letter sequencing, the same techniques applied to the Bible Code, to Moby-Dick and War and Peace and, remarkably, found similar coded information in these two books as well.”
“What kind of similar coded information?” she asks.
Dr. Berks gets up and maneuvers over to a bookshelf in the corner of his office. He pulls a notebook from the shelf, handing it to Natan. “Here.”
Natan looks at the notebook. It reads “Codes found in Moby-Dick.”
Natan flips through it, stopping on a matrix with John F. Kennedy references.
Dr. Berk continues, “Bible Code proponents claim that a close collection of information is found in a specific matrix and this supposedly helps prove their claims because this data illustrates a mathematical chance that is remote.” Dr. Berk looks at Natan, waiting for a response.
She continues reviewing the notebook and after a few moments realizes that a silence looms, so she looks up, “And…”
“And, if that is the argument in support of the Bible Code and in your hand you hold a notebook full of matrices found in Moby-Dick that qualifies as similar data, then how valid is the Bible Code at all, Agent Natan?” Dr. Berk motions to the notebook. “As you can see, the section of Moby-Dick you’re looking at has a matrix which includes information about John F. Kennedy.”
“I see that,” she says.
“There are others as well,” a confident Dr. Berk replies.
“What others, Dr. Berk?”
“Agent Natan, there are a slew of other matrices in Moby-Dick revealing information about other prominent figure heads, leaders, et cetera.”
Natan looks down at the open notebook again. “I see your point. I had no idea.”
“I wish the proponents of the Code would open their eyes to this statistical coincidence so we could finally put this debate to rest.”
Natan flips through the notebook one last time.
Dr. Berk continues, “And this notebook only contains the codes found for Moby-Dick.” He motions toward the bookshelf across the room. “I have a completely full notebook on War and Peace as well, which contains matrices about research on various historical Rabbis. Would you care to review it?”
“Was any other significant information found in the two books…anything especially current?”
“Current?” Dr. Berk looks around. “No…not that I’m aware of.”
“Okay then, I think this will be sufficient,” Natan says matter-of-factly.
“Agent Natan…you don’t honestly believe that God left a code for us to find in the Bible, do you?”
“Dr. Berk, I don’t know if I even believe in God.”
“That sounds reasonable,” he says, smiling. “You know, there is a greater statistical probability that aliens exists than there is that God exists.”
“I didn’t know that,” she replies.
“It’s mathematics…and it seems that there’s your answer, Agent Natan.” Natan stands, nods her head in thanks, and hands Dr. Berk the notebook.
“Would you mind photocopying a few of these pages so that I can take them with me?” she asks.
“Not at all,” he replies. “I’ll have my secretary, Allison, take care of that for you.”
“Thank you for your time, Dr. Berk. I realize you’re a very busy man.” Natan shakes Dr. Berk’s hand again and both of them maneuver toward the door.
“In this day and age, who would be crazy enough to turn down a request for help from the government?” he adds as a side note.
“Good point,” Natan replies, as she thinks of all of the undocumented wire tapping performed by the government of which she is a part.
“Agent Natan, please assure the N.S.A. that they’d have a better chance of finding Santa Claus than verifiable data that will prove the validity of the Bible Code…excluding their chances if they try Macy’s during the holiday season.” Dr. Berk winks at Natan. Natan smiles and offers a nod in agreement.
Dr. Berk continues, “Have a safe drive back. And…please feel free to call me if you should have any additional questions.”
Natan replies, over her shoulder, “Thank you…I will.” She walks out of the office, in shock.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Inside the N.S.A. building Agent Knight waits, pacing back and forth. Natan enters, approaches her desk, and puts her bag down, the photocopies peeking out of the side.
A stressed Knight rushes up to her. “Agent Natan.”
Natan’s voice is short. “Look, Knight, I know I’m late…I had an errand this morning…and…”
Knight interrupts her. “Baxter wants to see you in his office.”
Natan begins rubbing her forehead again. The pain escalating, she loses her cool. “Again? What the hell did I do this time?” she asks.
Knight leans in and whispers, “Agent Natan…lower your voice.” Knight looks around uncomfortably.
Natan looks at Knight and then looks around. Natan whispers, “What’s going on? Is there a reason why we’re whispering?”
Knight pulls Natan closer, whispering, “Somethin’s going down, Natan. He requested you an hour ago and you weren’t here. I tried to cover for you…”
Natan turns to leave, interjecting, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” She storms out.
Natan stands outside of Baxter’s door. She takes a deep breath, then knocks extraordinarily hard. “Come in,” Baxter replies.
Natan enters the office, greeting Baxter as he sits behind his desk.
“You wanted to see me, Sir.” Her voice is terse.
“Agent Natan. So gracious of you arrive…” Baxter’s words trail off as he looks down at his watch. “…Whenever the hell you like.”
Natan’s face is hard, her lips pursed for retaliation. “I had a personal matter to attend to this morning, Sir. I called it in yesterday. Alice should have a record of it.”
Ignoring her, Baxter flips through paperwork on his desk. Natan continues as her agitation escalates, “Is there another reason for your tone…Sir?”
With that remark, Baxter gives Natan his undivided attention. “Agent Natan, it’s come to my attention that you have continued having contact with Professor Sails even after I explicitly requested that you not.”
Natan rubs her forehead again as she steps forward, unable to restrain herself. “Explicitly, Sir? I believe your words were, ‘I suggest you not have contact.’ The word ‘suggest’ implies a suggestion. An order would have been, ‘I order you’…Sir.” Natan swallows hard after realizing what she’s said.
Baxter’s patience is tested. “Tread lightly, Agent Natan.”
Natan backs up. “I apologize, Sir. I just don’t understand why the N.S.A. is having such an issue with this…with me. Who is this professor, Sir?”
Baxter tries to speak, but Na
tan interrupts him. “Well, I’ll tell you who he is to me…a man I didn’t even know until the N.S.A. introduced me to him through an assignment.”
Natan rubs her forehead again, her face unable to hide the stress.
“Agent Natan, are you feeling all right?”
“I have a headache, Sir…is all.”
“Perhaps this isn’t the best time…but your recent behavior warrants this. I wanted you to know that I’ve recommended to the Advisory Committee that you be remanded to desk duty, pending further investigation into your actions of late.”
“Desk duty, Sir?” She feels a knot in her stomach.
“That’s right, Agent Natan. And they’ve agreed. The N.S.A. wants you in a more…observable position, until this matter is settled.”
Natan voice shields some of her anger. “The N.S.A.…or you, Sir?”
“This change is effective immediately. That’ll be all, Agent Natan.” Natan stands in silent shock. “Please show yourself out, Agent.” A dazed Natan exits.
Inside the general N.S.A. offices, Agent Knight sits at his desk working on the
computer as Natan walks in, making her way to her desk. She opens a drawer and retrieves some aspirin. Knight notices her return and gets up to greet her. “Natan…what happened?” Natan grabs her bag. The photocopies are completely inside the bag now.
Natan puts her bag over her shoulder. “Well, it looks like wonders never cease there, champ.”
Knight looks confused, “What?”
“You were right about me being first to hit the desk…”
“What?” Knight doesn’t understand.
“I’ve been remanded to desk duty, effective…now.”
“What?! Why??” he asks, upset.
“Any chance you made a killer cup of coffee today that Baxter sampled?” A confused Knight stares silently at Natan. She continues, “No? Well, then, it has to be my tardiness.” Natan starts to leave.
Knight stops her. “Wait. Where’re you going?”
Natan replies over her shoulder. “I’m taking a sick day.”