The Pathfinder Trilogy

by Todd Stockert

  Next to him, Adam Roh groaned obnoxiously and rolled onto his back, yawning. “I was seriously hoping that we dreamed this whole thing,” he ventured irritably, dark stubble visible on his hard-lined face. An old, faded blanket barely covered him and he tossed the hole-ridden fabric aside. “Where are we anyway?”

  “I think the farmer called this place Bethany… he said it was a small town surrounded primarily by groups of farm families.”

  “What?” Adam sat there for a moment, allowing the haze of sleep to dissipate. “I thought Bethany was on the other side of the Jordan, just east of Jerusalem.”

  Thomas turned and just looked at him with an expression of disdain. “That’s the village,” he stated informatively, placing particular emphasis on the last word. “This is the town of Bethany.”

  “Fine. One is a village to the west; the other is a town in the east. I must confess to seeing no difference between the two.” Adam stared at the dirty ceiling above. “Aren’t you done yet?”

  “This isn’t at all easy,” responded Thomas with his jaw set firmly. “I had to activate an AI – an artificial intelligence similar to the one you used on the Ali Rinai in the Wasteland – to assist me with formulas and calculations. Most of the programming is long since done, but calculating the necessary settings for a pair of stable micro-wormholes is another thing altogether. Power will be a problem too. If our implants don’t make ample use of enough sunlight today, I may only be able to use my computer for several hours after dark.”

  “Just open one micro-wormhole,” suggested Adam, reaching up with the fingers of one hand to rub sleep out of his eyes. “Even if only one of us is fully up and running, that’s better than nothing.”

  “If I can open one, I can open one hundred,” Thomas retorted a little too sharply, prompting Adam to fall silent and allow him at least some measure of silence in which to work. He glanced up sharply, however, upon seeing an unexpected shadow fall on the outer door. The crunching sound of feet walking on the ground reached their ears. “Adam… someone is coming.”

  “Keep working,” said his brother, rising to his feet and moving toward the door. “I’ll visit with the farmer a little bit and see if he knows anything about where we should go next.”

  “Ask him where the Messiah is, the great Teacher,” suggested Thomas. “That’s where we go.” He hesitated for a moment, thinking silently. “Although, if the crowds and disciples surrounding him are anywhere near as large as indicated in the Bible, we’re going to have a difficult time getting close.”

  Adam opened the rickety door to their shelter and slipped through a small gap, closing it behind him. In front of him stood the farmer they had visited with the previous evening – the friendly faced, bronze-skinned old man who had offered to let them stay. He held a bundle of clothing in his arms, and Adam noticed at least one pair of sandals setting on top. “Good morning,” he said, doing his best to sound cheerful despite their circumstances. “Thank you very much for allowing us to rest here… our journey is a rather long one.”

  “You’re most welcome,” replied the famer, along with a second phrase that didn’t totally translate. Adam’s implant suggested several common Hebrew alternatives, but none of them appeared accurate in context. Thomas had cautioned him that this might be the case in many situations – the two men had agreed to simply respond to the parts of the speech that they understood and ignore the rest where possible. The bald man with wisps of gray hair along the sides of his head held out the light tan garments he carried. “But your journey will likely end soon if you don’t change out of your truly odd clothing – tell me, are there no Romans where you come from?”

  Chuckling at the unexpected comment, Adam grinned. “There are Romans everywhere,” he replied with a quick wink. He accepted the bundle of clothing and began to examine the robes and sandals carefully. “Even in a land as far away as the land where we hail from.” He paused, watching the man study him suspiciously. “We’ve been very careful so far, keeping off the main roads and traveling mostly by ourselves.”

  The farmer continued to watch Adam with obvious interest. “I don’t believe you,” he concluded finally. “But the Romans have killed enough innocent men, and you and your brother appear to be good boys.” He jerked a thumb toward a slightly larger, equally old dwelling behind him… obviously his home. “You two could stay here for a while and work for me.” He smiled at the elder Roh. “This time of year, I could use the help.”

  Shaking his head, Adam smiled cheerfully. “My brother and I are looking for someone. I believe we mentioned him to you last night.” Behind him, a rooster suddenly began crowing very loudly, joined, only seconds later, by at least two others. The sun was definitely above the western horizon now, but just barely. It was still just a third of a disk, blaze orange as it hid behind the morning cloud cover. Warm rays poked through in places, bathing the morning in sunlight. “Do you have any idea where we might go?”

  Glancing down toward the dirt under his feet, the farmer said several more phrases that didn’t immediately translate. When he ended his commentary, the last bit of his speech translated to “It is very dangerous what you are attempting.”

  “What?” asked Adam curiously. “What do you think is so dangerous?”

  “This man you seek. Sooner or later the Romans will be after him, if not his own people.” The farmer put a friendly hand on Adam’s shoulder and leaned closer. “There is no proof he is the person you think he is. People began talking some weeks ago when the Baptist…” he paused long enough to point toward the west, “…when the Baptist immersed him in the waters of the Jordan River, baptizing him and then declared him to be the new Messiah. He claimed to have witnessed the glory of God’s Holy Spirit descend from heaven and sit on the man’s shoulder.” The farmer shrugged. “I have listened to this Baptist along with the many others who were there. He seems like a good person, genuinely interested in absolving men of their sins. But what he claims is crazy, no one else saw anything. I’m not sure I believe he can see what he claims to have seen.”

  Adam’s interest piqued instantly. “This man that the Baptist heaped so much praise upon,” he stated firmly. “Where is he now? Do you know where he was going?”

  “Yes,” acknowledged the farmer with a dry smile. “After being declared the new Messiah, this man, this carpenter from Nazareth crossed the Jordan to its western shore and then headed south into the desert. The supposed next leader of the Jewish people wandered off into a desert in the middle of the hot season!” He laughed sharply and then wiggled the fingertips of both hands next to his ears. “I think that the heat this time of year can get to people… make them a little silly!” Continuing to chuckle, he pointed at the shirt and slacks that Adam wore. “Like you and your small brother – who else would wear such silly looking clothes in the middle of a heat wave?”

  “Well, we won’t trouble you any longer,” Adam promised him. “My brother and I would stay and work off our debt, but you asked us to leave at sunrise.”

  “Unless you stay through harvest, you’re no good to me.”

  “Then again… you have our thanks.” He turned to go back into the shed.

  “But you cannot leave before the morning meal,” noted the farmer, moving to step in front of Adam. “My wife is preparing food, and you and your brother must join us before you resume your journey. We insist… you would insult us if you would not share at least one meal with us.”

  “Then we’ll do that,” agreed Adam enthusiastically, more fully appreciating the simpler time and its customs. “Just let me check get my brother, and then we’ll come up to the house.”

  *

  An hour later, wearing the clothing given to them by the famer, Adam and Thomas moved west through the small town of Bethany. “It’s also referenced in our history books as Betharaba… this town, not the village,” commented Thomas cheerfully, shouldering a small pack that the farmer’s wife had given them. It contained half a loaf of old bread, some a
ged cheese and several animal skins filled with fresh water. “Those were really nice people… I think I like life in this time.”

  “That’s because you haven’t seen all of it yet,” Adam grumbled in response. At first glance it appeared as though only a hundred or so people lived in Bethany, with most of the small huts and buildings circled around a central well. He studied the people who were busy setting up a local marketplace for the coming business day, while others moved back and forth as they attended to other duties. There were goats and chickens everywhere, along with an occasional cluster of sheep. Obviously, the sheep were a much pricier item for a poverty-stricken people. A gray, feral cat hissed a brief challenge at them and then ducked back into a knot of dried, sun-browned bushes.

  The two of them stayed primarily on the southern edge of the small town, mostly at the farmer’s suggestion. He had pointed out to them that if there were Roman soldiers or other authorities lurking, they would deliberately rove closer to the richer people living on the farmland to the north. Many of them were used to appropriating ‘extra’ taxes from those who could spare a bribe or two for special favors. Of course, no one else in town could afford this kind of transaction and thus the soldiers primarily ignored them.

  They passed several homeless vagrants, one of whom was clearly blind. Adam studied the skinny, elderly man’s eyes carefully, watching statistics roll by on his eye HUD. “We’ve come a long way with medicine,” he observed cautiously. “Simple laser surgery could help that man see in less than thirty minutes.”

  “And yet we haven’t come a long way,” said Thomas wryly. “Everything in our time is devastated.”

  “Not everything,” snapped Adam heatedly. “The Brotherhood didn’t get everything.” He studied the central well, surrounded by a knee-high wall of carefully placed stones. “Perhaps we should drink as much water as possible while we still have a decent source of it,” he suggested. “Once we’re in the desert, it’s going to be tough to find.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Thomas promised him confidently. “If needed, we can manufacture our own drinkable water by removing it directly from the air. It’s a standard implant function. Well, actually it’s technically an enhancement to the original function used to create a breathable atmosphere.”

  “Well that’s a neat trick,” his brother admitted. “Fresh water on demand sure would have come in mighty handy during my exploits in the Wasteland.”

  As promised, there was no sign of adversaries. The two men lingered for a few minutes, watching the diverse assortment of people from so early an Earth time period. Almost all of them wore soft, lightly colored robes made from carefully hand woven fabrics or animal skins, although several men were wearing dark brown despite the morning heat. There wasn’t a wide variety of color to be found, although some of the robes and tunics boasted light blue stripes. Baskets of fruits and vegetables for sale were being set out along the semi-circle comprising the market area. Stunned by the sight of everything that would appear completely out of place in modern times, Adam watched a small girl milking a goat with interest.

  Finally, they noticed a Roman soldier standing near the northeast corner of town. He was fully dressed in silver-gray armor, wore a traditional helmet and carried a large broadsword and a shield strapped to his back. Although he was clearly visiting with several of the townspeople, the mere sight of him prompted the brothers to pick up their pace and peel off toward the west. There remained a firm agreement between the pair to avoid trouble wherever possible while visiting Earth’s distant past. Adam would have felt more confidence – despite the prospect of inadvertently altering history – if their implants were fully connected to the Lexington and functioning at full strength. Without their fully powered weapons to rely upon for protection, they were simply scientists struggling to conceal themselves in the midst of proven killers.

  Despite their best efforts, it gradually became obvious that trouble was everywhere and perhaps unavoidable. It was only a short walk to the eastern shore of the Jordan River, but the road leading up to it contained a truly gruesome sight. Six large wooden crosses were embedded in the ground, with the desiccated, long since dead corpses of a half dozen victims dangling from the crossbeams. The smell was nauseating, and Thomas looked quickly away when he noticed bugs crawling across the sun-parched skin of the deceased. Above them, large black predatory carrion-eaters circled slowly, with sharp, orange beaks ready, their dark wings flapping just often enough to keep them hovering over their breakfast.

  “This is exactly why we have to avoid any kind of confrontation,” hissed Adam softly as they passed a couple with a donkey and a large wooden wagon. A large, flea-ridden shaggy dog sitting in the wagon barked sharply in their direction. “If we defend ourselves using implant-enhanced strength, it could change the future. If we kill anybody, it will definitely change the future.” He glanced down at the dirt path and frowned. “I’m not entirely sure just why we’re here… we probably will change the future at some point, before everything is said and done.”

  “If Jesus is indeed in the desert at this time, then this is the perfect time to approach him,” countered Thomas. “Before his ministry begins. Afterwards, he will be surrounded by disciples and other loyal followers. It will be almost impossible for the two of us to get any type of alone time.” Unable to contain his curiosity, he turned and took one last look at the gruesome sight of the dead men hanging from the crosses. “The Roman Empire’s most terrifying weapon,” he mumbled softly, “is about to be unexpectedly taken away from them by a humble carpenter from Nazareth.”

  “I still don’t know what you plan to say to him even if we do manage to locate him,” responded a still-grumpy Adam. “Maybe I’ll ask my watch and see if it has any new messages.” He reached into the folds of his light tan robe to search for the object.

  “I’m telling you, that watch has programming,” said Thomas emphatically. “Each time we hit an objective, its software kicks in to aim us toward the next one. I’m still wondering whether or not there is an artificial intelligence of some kind inside its mechanism… if I could think of a way to test that theory, maybe we could communicate with it more directly.”

  Next to him, Adam sighed. “Do you have it by any chance?” he asked curiously.

  Thomas stopped walking. “Have what?”

  “The silver watch… it’s gone again.” Adam pondered the matter for a moment. “Now that I think about it, I don’t remember seeing it when we changed clothes back at the farm.” He threw up his hands helplessly. “So much for guidance,” he exclaimed with frustration. “I guess we’re on our own for now.”

  About ten minutes later, the pair of brothers arrived at the eastern shore of the Jordan River. They had deliberately moved far enough to the southwest to avoid the large crowds that – according to their farmer friend – were still gathering each day to be baptized. They paused for a few minutes, watching the water flow steadily in a winding, southerly direction. Adam stuck one of his sandaled feet into the water, smiling slightly at the feel of the cool water on his toes. He doubted it was 8 a.m. yet and already the heat of the coming day was sweltering. “As soon as we leave all of the people behind, I’m changing back into my other clothes,” he declared sharply. “Ancient footwear doesn’t have any arch support, and my feet will be aching by tonight if we end up walking all day.”

  Each of them wore backpacks cloaked in invisibility. Adam also wore a tool kit on his inner right thigh along with a medical kit attached to his left. Both of them were also equipped with the wrist guns, now covered within the arms of their robes. Taking one last look at his younger brother while he was still mostly dry, Adam stepped into the Jordan and began walking across. The shock of the cold water against his bare skin was invigorating, but he slowed noticeably upon dropping suddenly into a deeper area. Water and white froth swirled around his waist while the tall, broad-shouldered hardware specialist looked directly down at the river and then across to the shore just forty
or so feet distant. “It’s too deep to walk in the middle,” he observed, studying the statistics rolling across his inner eyeball. “We’ll have to swim for at least part of the way.” Glancing up and down the river he shrugged, “Unless you want to risk going upstream.”

  “Believe me, in a few hours you’re going to be wishing you were back here,” pointed out Thomas. He followed his brother into the river and the two of them carefully walked and – at times – resorted to swimming in order to reach the western shore. Once they did, the two of them climbed out of the water and simply stood there for a time, watching the river water flow relentlessly downstream.

  “I wonder what this place is like in our time,” commented Thomas curiously, his expression darkening. “Check that. I wonder what it was like,” he added moodily, “before the nuclear storm.”

  “Come on little brother,” said Adam with mild affection. He put a comforting arm around his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s get going… if you’re correct, we’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”

  “We have to go west until we reach Qumran, then head south. The land descends from there all the way to the Dead Sea.”

  “How are we going to find him in all of that? He could be anywhere.”

  “I don’t know yet,” admitted Thomas with a deep frown. “Our implants have limited capacity right now – we may have to wait until I can reestablish full contact with the Lexington.”

  Together the two brothers persistently continued walking toward the southwest and the waiting desert.

  PROJECT EARTH

  Pathfinder Series: Book Three

  Chapter V: Brotherhood Diplomacy

  Planet Earth, Orbiting above the Emirate of Guitan, present day

  President Dennis Kaufield stepped aboard the passenger shuttle carefully, tugging gently at the bottom folds of the taupe-colored robe wrapped around his civilian clothing. The garments were quite popular on Proteus worlds, especially during official meetings, and he continued to be amazed at the swift speed with which many Earth traditions were evolving to mimic the cultures of their new home. It’s not like we’ve had much choice except to adapt, he thought a bit cynically. Still, he considered Earth his home world, first and foremost. That was why a return to their origin planet in the Sol system had remained such a high priority over the passing years. The President was preparing to choose a random seat and strap himself in, already reaching out to do so, when he happened to catch a quick glimpse of the pilot’s profile.