Tom had been sitting next to the disciple named John, who was likable enough, but who Tom had never gotten to know very well. The two had bonded over dinner as people who eat and joke together sometimes do. There were twelve disciples after all, and all were almost always busy. Groups of friends had formed among the disciples and getting to know everyone hadn’t been the priority over the past few years. But now Tom wondered if he hadn’t been missing out on something.
John was smart. Damn smart, and Tom enjoyed hearing John’s theories on everything from how birds fly to what craters on the moon were. What impressed Tom the most was that John was often close to the mark. If he hadn’t become a disciple of Jesus, John might well have been the world’s first Da Vinci.
Tom looked up from his food and saw Judas re-enter the room. He had been fidgety and nervous all night. Tom decided to ask Judas what was wrong in the morning. Right now, he was having too much fun and Judas was busy ordering food and paying servants.
“Friends, brothers, a moment please,” Jesus said, as he stood up.
The room fell silent and all eyes were on Jesus. “Now that you’re all here, there is something I need to tell you…something I need to tell you now so that when it happens, you will believe what I have taught you. You might not believe what I’m about to say, but be assured, it is the truth... One of you…will betray me.”
Everyone stopped breathing. The disciples looked at each other. Was he serious? Who was he talking about?
A rumble of discomfort shot through Tom’s stomach. He had almost betrayed Jesus. Did that count? Was Jesus talking about him? Or was it Judas? He knew history believed Judas to be the betrayer of Jesus, but it didn’t seem remotely possible. Tom looked for Judas and found him talking to a servant, not even paying attention at the moment. The man had proven to be a good friend, not a killer.
Peter, who was sitting next to John, who was sitting next to Jesus, nudged John with his bony elbow. “Ask him who it is.”
John nodded and turned to Jesus, “Who betrays you? Tell us, which one of us will it be?”
There was one last piece of bread on the table. Jesus picked it up. “I will give this bread to the one who betrays me after I have dipped it in the oil.”
Jesus took the bread and dipped it in a small dish of olive oil, garlic and assorted spices. Just then, Judas, who had been all but oblivious to the conversation, as he was talking to a servant about money, leaned down to Jesus’s ear and said, “We’re out of bread, should I go purchase some more?”
Jesus turned to Judas and replied, “You are kind to offer, but you have not eaten yet. Take this bread to fill your stomach.”
Judas took the bread. “Thank you.”
“Do what you are about to do quickly,” Jesus said. “Time is running out.”
“I won’t be long,” Judas said, and he exited quickly.
Jesus turned back to the disciples, who looked disappointed.
Peter looked at Tom, who looked at John, who looked at Matthew and so on. All were confused and frustrated with anticipation. “Uh, Jesus,” Tom said, “What about the bread and betrayal? You were going hand it to the betrayer, but you just gave the bread to Judas...to eat...and he left!”
Jesus looked around the table. “It would appear that we are out of bread.”
“Judas went to get more bread?” John asked.
Jesus nodded.
“Well can’t we use a piece of fruit or chicken leg or something?”
Jesus smiled. “I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait on Judas.”
No one liked that answer, but what choice did they have? They returned to their previous conversations, which now included speculation as to who would be the betrayer of Jesus.
* * * * *
The rest of the night had gone by quickly and the morning had come even quicker, and still no sign of Judas. Tom wanted to take some of the disciples and search for Judas, but Jesus insisted Judas was fine and the group headed out early for the garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives, just east of Bethany and Jerusalem.
Jesus left the disciples in the garden, which was an olive grove lined with sweet smelling, bright red Crown Anemone. He said he needed to speak to his Father. The disciples carried on conversations like nothing had changed. But Tom could sense a change, as though an unseen force were squeezing his skull. He went for a walk to clear his mind.
After five minutes, Tom stopped and sat on a large rock and took a deep breath. He was constantly amazed at how clear the air was here. In Arizona, there wasn’t a lot in the way of air pollution, but on particularly windy days, they’d get blasted by smog from the L.A. basin. Here, the air was always clean.
“Have you noticed where you’re sitting?” David asked.
Startled by David’s sudden appearance, Tom almost fell off the rock backwards, but he quickly recovered. “On a rock.”
“What do you see in front of you, down the hill? Picture a thousand people all gazing up at you. Go back a few years.”
Tom looked around and his mind began recalling the events of the past. He hopped down from the rock and peered at it. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “This is where it all started.”
Tom walked a few feet away and turned toward the rock again. “I was standing here; you were on the rock… Seems like a lifetime ago.”
Tom walked to the rock and rubbed it with his hand like it was an old friend. “You might not believe it, but I don’t particularly miss the future. I have things here I never had there: a large group of friends, I’m seeing the world, learning. In the future we stopped learning, did you ever realize that? We were just working every day, putting into practice what we already knew. Here we learn something new every day.”
“You forgot something,” David added.
“Mary. I know. But I have to return to the future. What we’ve started…the time travel devices… Who else is going to take care of it? Make sure it isn’t abused?”
David raised his eyebrows with a humored expression, “I can’t think of anyone better than us.”
“Right,” Tom said. “We have to go back.”
After walking a few feet away, David turned and faced Tom. His face was sour.
“What’s wrong?” Tom asked, curious as to the change in emotion.
David walked to the rock slowly and leaned against it. “You know how I told you how the past can’t be changed, because it’s already happened?” David asked.
“You’re not having doubts, are you? It’s a sound theory,” Tom said.
“No, I don’t have any doubts. I just wish it were wrong,” David explained.
Tom felt a sudden urgency, “Why? What’s going to happen?”
“It’s already happening.”
“What is?”
“Did you see Judas leave last night?” David asked, looking Tom in the eyes.
“Did something happen to him? Is he okay?”
“Did you see what he had in his hand?”
“Just a piece of bread that Jesus—” Tom’s muscles tensed. It couldn’t be...but the fact was undeniable. “Judas... He gave the bread to Judas! The exchange seemed so casual, it seemed Jesus had forgotten what the bread was meant for…but he didn’t, did he?”
“ARGHH!” A man’s voice cried out in anguish from the olive grove.
Tom jumped off the rock, ready for action.
David stood up straight. “It’s begun.”
—NINETEEN—
Trials
30 A.D.
5:12 P.M.
Mount of Olives, Israel
Tom had never pushed his lungs to the edge of endurance like this before. He was running as fast as he could. And David, the old man, was right behind him. Tom and David hopped over rocks and wove between trees like rabbits eluding a predator. But rather than running from the predator, they were headed straight for it.
As they rounded a group of trees, the clearing in the olive grove where the other disciples had been came into view. The disciples were in c
haos, arguing about what to do, what not to do. No one had a clear course of action.
Dust kicked into the air as Tom came to an abrupt stop. He was completely winded, but didn’t bother sucking in air before speaking. There wasn’t time to breathe. “What happened? Tom asked. “Where’s Jesus? Who screamed?”
“They took him!” Matthew said. His face then contorted to a disdainful expression. “Judas was the betrayer!”
“I tried to stop them,” Peter said, as he held a sword in the air, its metal blade smeared with scarlet blood. “But he took the soldier’s ear and put it back on...like I had never cut it off...just put it right back on...”
“Where did they go?” Tom asked in a hurry.
“They’re leaving the grove even now. Headed for Jerusalem and a trial by the Romans,” Matthew said, hardly believing it himself.
Tom looked at David desperately, “We have to stop them.”
“We can’t. You know that.”
“Even if we fail. History doesn’t say we didn’t try, right?”
“No.”
“Good enough for me.”
Being at the top of the hilled olive grove made reaching top speed again that much easier. Tom was thirty feet away within seconds and would soon be out of sight. David followed after him, careening down the hill, arms flailing to maintain balance around the curves.
Matthew looked at Peter, forehead wrinkled. “Stop them? Did they see how many men there were?”
The wind tore through Tom’s hair and his muscles burned with life as he rounded a corner on the twisting path of switchbacks, which exited the olive grove. Ten feet in front of him stood a Roman soldier, apparently placed to stop any would-be rescue efforts by desperate disciples. This man alone, while not a huge physical threat to a group of disciples, carried the weight of the Roman Empire. If the soldier was killed, it would be open season on the disciples. The guard saw Tom coming and after pushing his red cape out of the way, drew his sword, thinking a show of force would be enough.
Tom eyed the sword, but knew the outcome of most fights often depended on who struck first, on who was most aggressive. Brute force didn’t replace his tactics—brute force was his tactic. Tom ran straight for the soldier.
“Stop where you are!” the soldier yelled, caught off guard by Tom’s undaunted charge.
Tom collided with the soldier like a battering ram. The soldier sailed through the air and slammed against a tree. The man slid to the ground and hit his head on a stone. Tom pressed on, satisfied that the soldier wouldn’t be running anyone through anytime soon.
David rounded the corner and saw the crumpled guard. Tom was insane! If he didn’t stop, he’d get killed. David ran faster, not noticing the shadow watching him from the side of the path, just behind a fallen tree.
Tom dug his feet into the dirt and stopped at the edge of a thirty-foot cliff. He turned around as he heard the crunch of sandals on dirt and saw David rounding the corner at top speed.
David caught a glimpse of the approaching drop off and began slowing his legs, but couldn’t stop his forward momentum quickly enough. David reached out and grabbed hold of Tom to stop himself and nearly took both of them over the edge. Tom’s muscles groaned as he pushed against the force of David’s body.
After coming to a complete stop, David looked down. His feet were dangling over the edge. Tom yanked him back. “That was...that was close,” David said with a concerned look.
Tom moved toward the cliff again and peered over the edge. His mouth dropped open. “This is impossible.”
A contingent of twenty-five Roman soldiers brandishing swords and spears marched down the trail with Jesus at their center. The group was led by a mob of Pharisees and Judas.
Slumping to his knees, Tom watched helplessly. “Damn it.”
“Nothing we did...could have changed what has happened...or what will happen,” David said while sucking in air.
“Tell me,” said Tom.
“What?”
“Tell me what’s going to happen.”
“I’m not sure I sho—”
“Tell me, David. Now. I can’t change it. At least prepare me for it.”
“Not here. That Roman soldier’s going to wake up soon and I don’t think either of us could stand any more excitement.”
“You’re right, let’s—”
Pang! A chip of rock between the two men blasted into the air. They locked in on the airborne object and began analyzing the phenomenon.
“What was that?” Tom asked, bewildered.
Tom watched as David searched the area like a frightened meerkat on patrol. What was he looking for? Tom saw David’s eyes widen and followed them to the source of intrigue. A glint of light, reflecting off what must have been glass, was all Tom saw before David was moving. “Get down!” David yelled, as he tackled Tom to the ground.
Puch! Dirt exploded from the ground and splayed across Tom’s face. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s Roberts! Run!” David shouted.
The two men jumped to their feet and ran back to the path, which led down the side of the cliff. Tom looked back as they descended the steep incline and saw a man dressed in a bright new robe—too new—jumping out of the trees and chasing after them. And in his hand?
A Gun.
With a silencer.
Roberts.
The time enforcer.
The killer.
Tom pushed even harder.
It occurred to him that if they continued at this speed, down the path of switchbacks, they would soon run into the entourage of troops transporting Jesus. It was death in either direction. But apparently, David was one step ahead.
David grabbed Tom by the robe and headed off the path. “This way!”
The two men half ran, half slid down the steep grassy slope. If they made it down this portion of hillside fast enough, they would rejoin the path just before the Roman soldiers. It was going to be close. They might find their lives ended at the tips of Roman spears instead of modern bullets, but there was little choice, and spears had a much shorter range than bullets.
Captain Roberts cursed himself. He had two clear headshots and missed them both. He could have stopped them dead in their tracks and returned to the future without having to worry about justifying David and Tom’s deaths. One look at the men told Roberts that they had been living in ancient Israel for months, maybe even years. Their clothing was more authentic then his own and they were speaking Aramaic. Roberts had studied detailed backgrounds on both men. He knew Tom couldn’t speak the language, but here he was, speaking it fluently. This meant Tom had been here long enough to learn it, which also meant he had broken so many rules of time travel ethics that killing him was well within reason.
After only fifty feet, Roberts gave up the chase. The savage after effects of time travel were still wreaking havoc on his body. That’s what caused him to miss. He should have waited. He should have planned better. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
Turning his head to the left, Roberts vomited like he was casually belching. He wiped his mouth and before he could formulate a plan—
“Don’t move!” demanded a male voice in Aramaic.
Roberts turned toward the voice. It was the Roman soldier he had watched Tom rough up. Roberts made no attempt to hide his grin. These soldiers were jokes; poorly trained, poorly equipped jokes. Roberts could see it in the man’s eyes. He was a coward with a sword, hiding behind the Roman insignia on his armor.
The Roman soldier backed away as Roberts strolled toward him, still smiling wolfishly. Roberts drew his knife and let the sun reflect off it into the soldier’s eyes. The soldier blinked and blocked the light with his hand. He regained his sight quickly, but only just quickly enough to see Roberts’s fist rapidly approach his face.
The ground sunk as the soldier fell on it like a tipped cow. If Roberts hadn’t become a soldier, he would have made a champion boxer. After sheathing his bloodless knife, he suppressed his urge
to kill. Killing civilians wasn’t part of the plan, unless they got between him and his prey. This soldier was lucky. Roberts simply vented a few frustrations. He could have vented them all.
* * * * *
Tom and David ran for ten minutes straight before stopping for air, then quickly made their way to the home of Lazarus, Mary and Martha, where they hoped they could rest and find safety. Their welcome was far more than David expected. They were hugged and kissed on the cheeks, even by the gargantuan Lazarus.
David surmised that Mary must have shared her feelings for Tom with her siblings because they now treated Tom like family. But the happy reunion was short lived. David and Tom explained what had happened in the garden of Gethsemane: Judas, the soldiers and Pharisees. Lazarus, normally strong and composed, found himself unable to stand at the news.
When Tom and David told the story, they left Captain Roberts’s assassination attempt out. There was no way it could be explained so that it made sense.
The night was long for everyone, though Tom and David fell fast asleep after their physically exhausting ordeal. As David lay in bed with his eyes closed, he felt a strange sensation. As a child on the night before the first day of Hanukkah, David would always go to bed early. His theory was that the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner it would be Hanukkah. The night would pass in an instant and the festivities of the next eight days would begin—only this night David felt the exact opposite. He knew that as soon as he fell asleep, morning would arrive too soon and they would be facing dangers unknown to other men of this time period.
David’s theory proved to be correct. As soon as his eyes closed and his body relaxed, it was morning. Everyone was up with the sun and only ten minutes later, Lazarus was out the door and headed for Jerusalem. Mary and Martha left with Lazarus, encouraged by David to do so. This might be their last chance to see Jesus alive, and he didn’t want them around if Roberts showed up.
Tom watched as Mary walked toward Bethany with her siblings. He felt a terrible sadness. He had said a simple goodbye to a disappointed Mary before she left the house. Only now did Tom realize this moment might be the last time he saw her. Tom looked at David, who was already nodding to Tom’s unsaid question.
The Didymus Contingency Page 21