“Finally, they realize that apparently he is truly dead. Only then does one of them leave. Not long after that, two women come in to clean the body and wrap it loosely in a linen cloth. The day after the Sabbath, they will come back and anoint the body with oil and wrap it tighter. Then it will sit in the tomb for one year. At the end of that time, the bones will be placed in a stone box called an ossuary.
“After they leave, that is where that part of the recording ends. He is wrapped and lying there.”
“You’re saying that the men tried to revive him?” Tamara said, sounding shocked. “That it was the plan that he not die on the cross?”
“I told you what I saw. I can only add that I was able to see the faces of the two men, Joseph and Nicodemus, both rabbis who agreed with Jesus’ teaching.”
“But...” She seemed at a loss for words. What finally came out was, “Did you follow up? The next day. And the third day? To be sure?”
“Yes. The Machine recording skipped forward in time. His body was still there on the Sabbath, Saturday. Later that night, the two men returned and took the body away, to another tomb, I imagine. The next day, after the Sabbath had ended, two women came to finish the preparation of the body.”
“So he never arose...”
“I’m afraid not. But the women thought that he did. My guess is that they were meant to think that by those who took away the body. And then the story grows from there, because it was written by people who were believers. Suddenly there are angels sitting in the tomb and such.”
The two of them were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. One was a Jew, the other not really a believer, so the facts were believable to them. Had either been a true Christian, that might have been impossible.
Finally, Tamara said with a weak smile, “You could prove your conspiracy theory.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Use the Machine to make a copy of the sponge. Then test it for drugs.”
Myers frowned, and then shook his head in wonderment, not disbelief. “That thought, my dear, never occurred to us.”
Chapter 22: Caught!
When they knocked on the door to his apartment, Timothy Williams yelled, “Go away!” So they kicked the door open.
Three men entered the front room of the small apartment, two armed Federal Marshals with automatics drawn, and a tall man in a black business suit. On the couch, looking surprised as hell, was Williams. Also there was his live-in girlfriend, Daisy. Both were naked and engaged in sexual intercourse. Or they were, until interrupted so abruptly.
“What the shit!” exclaimed Williams. Daisy said, “Eck!”
The federal agents were frozen in their tracks, guns pointing at the couple. If they felt any surprise, it did not show on their faces. The third man, one Carl Manhusen, Chief of Security for the Chronodyne Dry Wells Project, smiled faintly, fighting to keep in a laugh.
“Get your clothes on,” he told them.
The clothes in question were scattered around the couch. As the two hurried to get clothing on, Manhusen noted that Daisy appeared to be the kind of woman who would appeal to Williams: big breasted, long blonde hair which a quick glance proved to be from a bottle, and a not-too-smart look on her face. When the man had been hired to be an operator on the Machine, he had cleared background checks without problem, but it was noted in his file that he was of limited intelligence. His hiring had been marginal, and the initial doubts had now proven to be correct.
“Timothy Williams, I place you under arrest for thief of Chronodyne’s property.” One of the agents read him his Miranda rights. As soon as the two had enough clothing to be decent, Williams was handcuffed. Daisy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, kinky!” she said. Manhusen sighed.
“Miss Miller, we are not arresting you at this time. However, if it appears that you were a willing accomplice to the crimes, you may be so charged at a later time.”
“Huh?” she said.
“Search the place,” Manhusen told the men. As they spread out to the different rooms, he began a survey of the front room. His attention was immediately drawn to the coffee table that had been pushed aside to make more room for their lovemaking. Resting atop some magazines was a crown. It appeared to be made of gold, with fleurs-de-lis and crosses pattee and two arches surmounted by a cross. The inside was of purple velvet and it had a white ermine border at the bottom. Many precious stones were set into the gold. Manhusen whistled when he saw it.
“Timmy, you’ve been a bad boy,” he said with a smirk. “This is, unless my memory fails me, St. Edward’s Crown. The original is, of course, in the Tower of London with the rest of the Crown Jewels.” He lifted the crown. “Heavy. But then it is solid gold, almost five pounds of it.”
Williams was looking at the floor and said nothing.
“You weren’t giving this to your girl here, were you?”
The guilty man’s silence spoke loud enough.
Manhusen laughed. “Not many girls get a gift like that!”
The others began bring objects into the room. First was a large leather bound, very old looking book. “A Guttenberg Bible, oh my,” said Manhusen. There followed a couple gold bars, each of which weighed twenty-five pounds, then a bag of loose, cut diamonds, a suitcase filled with stacks of banded one hundred dollar bills, all fresh and crisp straight from the mint, and finally a large single diamond.
“The Hope Diamond?” Manhusen asked. “Well, never mind. You do know that you would have been caught sooner or later? Most of this stuff is too hard to fence. The money would have been easiest, but since these are duplicates you copied, they would have duplicate serial numbers. If you sold them one at a time, you might have made some money off the diamonds. If you were careful.”
Williams looked up. There was a small tear trickling down his cheek. “I didn’t do anything wrong. These things are just copies. You know that. I didn’t really steal anything.”
“Copies, yes, but copies made with a Chronodyne machine and therefore the property of Chronodyne. Take him away.”
As the agents led Williams out the door, Manhusen turned back to the confused Daisy sitting on the couch. “Don’t expect to see your boyfriend for a long time, sweetie.”
Chapter 23: Excrement Strikes!
“The shit is hitting the fan!” exclaimed Dr. Stryker, his face red with anger. He jabbed at a remote on the tabletop. A large screen monitor on the wall of the conference room came to life. After a moment, a scene appeared showing a female newscaster seated behind a desk. Projected behind her was a picture of the Chronodyne headquarters building with the company’s logo clearly visible.
“In a surprising announcement, Representative Norman Stockman, Chairman of the Committee on Science, Space, and Technology, today said that he wanted his committee to look into allegations that Chronodyne has developed a time machine. He said that he was informed of the development by sources he declined to name but that he does believe accurate.
“The time machine is supposed to be able to travel back in time to view events in the past, and possibly enable humans to travel back into the past and return. Since Chronodyne is the recipient of several large government contracts, Stockman wants to know why his committee hasn’t been informed of this breakthrough. He also states that he wants an investigation alleged use of this time machine by the CIA and other agencies for spying purposes.
“When contacted by this reporter, Physicist Dr. Malchom Chilton of the Caltech stated that time travel is impossible, and he scoffed at reports of the existence of such a machine. ‘Stockman should not believe such rumors,’ he said.
“In other news...”
Stryker turned off the screen. Those around the table were silent.
“Well, how the hell did this Congressman get this?” he demanded. “Someone within this project must have blabbed.”
Those present, which included all the sub-project heads, looked at each other but no one spoke. A couple looked in Tamara’s direction.
“Miss Graves, you a
re the only person here who is not a part of the Chronodyne team. You show up and a few days later this happens. Have you told anyone about this project? Perhaps someone back in the DOD?”
“I have not,” she said firmly, irritated that anyone would believe she could not keep a secret. “I have the highest clearance and am well aware of security requirements. I assure you that I have told no one – repeat, no one – any information about your project.”
For a few seconds Stryker glared at her.
“Colonel Manhusen will be conducting an investigation,” he finally said. “If there is a leak, we must plug it. This is not a good time for a general announcement to be made public. Especially not for certain projects within Dry Wells.” He looked to Tamara as he said that.
She started to open her mouth to speak, but closed it when she realized that he was referring to Project J. Not everyone in the facility was aware of the true nature of Project J, which meant that some of those present did not know that Jesus was walking around only a couple of buildings away.
“What about that operator just arrested for misuse of the Machine?” asked Dr. Fielding. “Maybe he sold information as well as stolen objects.”
Manhusen stood up. “I have been investigating him thoroughly, and I am convinced that Williams is a thief but did not ever think of selling information. Why should he? He was stood to profit with items obtained from the Machine, why endanger the whole project?”
“Then who did?” asked Juliette O’Neill. “Someone did.”
“And I will find out,” Manhusen told them sternly. From his six foot four inch height, looking down at the seated people, he was the image of undeniable authority.
Manhusen put in a request that anyone who has any information contact him. There did not seem much to say after that. But as the meeting was about to break up, Tamara spoke up.
“Dr. Stryker, may I make a suggestion?”
The Projector Director turned back to her. “Yes?”
“There was something that Dr. Brown suggested,” she said, gesturing to the man. “He said that maybe the animals he was bringing to our time could be shown to the public as clones. You know, the Jurassic Park thing. If you did, you could just say that your project here was to clone extinct animals from DNA. Show them the dodo. And Smiley should really get attention. A Saber-Tooth Cat! Imagine how that would look on the evening news!
“But, you also release a statement that someone found out about this project and mistook it for a time machine. You could even say that one of your own scientists referred to it as a ‘time machine of sorts,’ and that maybe was the source of the confusion. Get a couple other scientists, not yours, to state that time travel is impossible. Might shoot down this problem before it gets out of hand. You don’t want Congress actually investigating you, do you?”
Stryker shook his head, and actually smiled at her.
“Sounds like a good idea,” said Fielding. “Might just work,” added Dr. Crane. Stryker looked around the table. Noting no objections, he said, “Brown, come with me. Let’s see how we can set this up.”
The room emptied quickly, leaving Tamara to wonder where the security breach might have come from. There were, at the current time, exactly one hundred and seven Chronodyne employees on site, plus one DOD visitor. That was a lot of possibilities, even if you figured that some of those were support staff, such as cafeteria crew and guards, who might not know the true nature of Dry Wells. Still left a lot of possibilities.
It was early afternoon and she decided to visit Dr. Myers. There were a few questions still bothering her. She wondered if she might have an interview with Jesus again.
Chapter 24: Bad News
The American Southwest reminded Khurram Murad of his homeland: it was hot, dry and had vast areas of emptiness. He watched from the window of the airliner as it descended in the landing pattern at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. His cell phone beeped. The text message it had for him was simple: “Comet.” It was from the only person who knew of his mission to the United States.
Since all the publicity about the American NSA spying on its own people via the PRISM program, they had reduced their cell phone communications to simple code words. ‘Comet’ told him there was a news item of importance he should look at. Bring up the smart phone’s browser, he touched the key for CNN. The eighth item down the list caught his attention. Touching on that title, he brought up pretty much the same as the newscast displayed by Dr. Stryker only a few minutes prior as Murad’s plane began its descent.
Keeping his face emotionless, he turned off the phone and put it back in his pocket. This piece of news did not please him. The news about what he thought of as the “False Isa” project was beginning to break. In a country where the press was not as muzzled as in his country, that meant that soon the headlines would be screaming of Jesus’ Second Coming, or some such lurid crap.
The land below began to show many houses, and he knew that soon they would be landing. He would have to get his team together as quickly as possible. There was no time to lose and much to do. There was transportation to arrange, weapons to acquire and a team to assemble and brief.
Taking a deep breath, he prepared to go through the airport security once again. His Middle Eastern appearance always attracted attention when he flew.
He had to prevent the Americans announcing this fake Jesus. He had to. It was Allah’s will.
Chapter 25: Orders
In the same office where he had twice before met with a high ranking church official, a nervous man sat staring out the window at the city lights spread out. Not far off, a freeway showed a broken string of white headlights approaching and red taillights retreating. Even though he had met with the Bishop before, he still twisted his class ring nervously around and around on his finger.
A noise made him jerk, and he turned around to see the expected two men enter the room. Immediately he rose and accepted the offered hand, kissing the large gold ring.
“Have you any news?” the heavy-set man said as he sat behind the desk.
“They have decided to announce a part of the project as the cloning of extinct animals. Not time travel.”
“I know. We have other sources for information. We would like to know who it was leaked information to that Congressman. That wasn’t you, was it?”
The man standing before the desk shivered under the sternness in the Bishop’s voice. “No, your Excellency! I have told no one but you!”
“It is too bad that news of the time machine has been leaked. It may lead to a public announcement; something we do not wish to happen.”
The fat man settled back in the chair and folded his hands over his ample waist. He did not see the man behind him showing a faint smile. “I have been in touch with the highest sources in Rome,” he began, as if confiding a great confidence. “We cannot allow this false Christ to be presented to the public as if he were the real one. I hope you do understand that?”
“Yes, your Excellency. I understand. But what do you want...?”
He was silenced with the wave of a hand. “I will tell you what we want you to do.” He gestured, and the second man handed forth a computer tablet. “This tablet has been programmed with information of a specific type. All you have to do is turn it on and touch the icon that will appear. Then you hand it to the false Jesus...”
Chapter 26: Disruption of the Quiet
Tamara did not get that interview with Jesus. That afternoon, Dr. Myers was “in conference” with his star guest and not to be disturbed. She left a note for him requesting to see him the next day, and returned to finishing up the report she was going to have to turn in sooner or later to her bosses.
It was not an easy report to write. In the end, she simply stated that she had found inappropriate use of computers and other equipment. And that the person responsible had been arrested and charged with several counts. A few other minor discrepancies in accounting practices were noted, along with their correction by the Dry Wells staf
f.
The report was done. But Tamara did not attach it to a cover letter, encrypt it, and email it off to her superiors. As soon as she did that, they would expect her to return for another assignment, and she did not want that. There was too much she wanted to know; too many questions. She might get in trouble for it, but so long as the Project J staff allowed her to remain, she fully intended to do so.
Closing and saving the file, she checked her email. There was one from Dr. Myers, informing her that he would be happy to see her any time the next morning. With a look of satisfaction, she turned off her terminal and left her little temporary office for an early dinner at the cafeteria and then some relaxing in her apartment.
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