by Roger Weston
“What?”
“It’s true. Francis Bacon, for example, is usually considered to be primarily responsible for the formulation of the scientific method, stressing experimentation and induction from data. He was a devout believer.
“Johann Kepler is considered to be the founder of physical astronomy. He established the discipline of celestial mechanics. His work contributed to the eventual development of calculus. He was one of the great scientists in history—and a believer. Kepler believed that he was following the Lord’s will for his life when he reluctantly left seminary to enter astronomy. He once stated that as a scientist he was merely ‘thinking God’s thoughts after Him.’”
Irina shook her head in exasperation.
Francisco said, “Robert Boyle is generally credited with being the father of modern chemistry and the greatest physical scientist of his generation. He was also a Christian and a student of the Bible.
“Mother, I could tell you of dozens of distinguished scientists throughout history who were devout Christians. But this isn’t politically correct, so the universities and even most seminaries have turned their backs on Biblical Christianity. They refuse to consider the facts if they don’t like them. These scientists I talk about were rational men. How rational is it to try and pawn off a fraudulent artifact and discredit a religion that gives happiness to millions of people? Why do that? Why not let people be happy?”
“Do not judge me!”
“There is no judgment. We’re talking about choices.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through over the past five years.”
“I know what you did for me. I know I’ll always love you.”
“If you loved me, you would take my advice. I am offering you the world—the entire world. All you have to do is leave this school. Forget about the all the nonsense. God is a mental construct. He was created to control the people.”
“In my heart, I know the truth. I have a relationship with God. I’m happy with my decisions.”
“You better re-think this, Francisco. Doors open and doors close. I’m offering to groom you for greatness. Opportunity is fleeting.”
He shook his head. “You’re making a mistake, Mother. Don’t do this. You know the Confession is a fake. It’ll never work.”
“That’s where you’re wrong!” She pointed at him. “I have a dozen scientists to back me up. They come cheap and do interviews with the media. People believe the media if they hear something enough times. Perception is reality.”
“But you know the truth.”
Irina slammed the door on her way out. She had no time for this nonsense. Her son was lost. He had fallen for the opiate of the masses. She had barely gotten to her car when her phone rang.
It was Ajax. He said, “The scientist is dead.”
“They’re all dead,” she snapped. “Bacon, Kepler, Boyle—a bunch of dead white men. I don’t want to hear any more about them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The scientists. You’ve been talking to Francisco.”
“You’re not making any sense. I’m calling you about one of the scientists who proved the Christ Confession is a forgery.”
“You mean the one you took to Patagonia for interrogation?”
“No, a different one, a cat named Brian Hastings in the Chemistry Department at the University of Washington. He’s dead. My manhunter told me.”
“And did he get the Confession back?”
“He’s delivering it to me personally. He’ll be here late tonight.”
“Great work,” she said. “You are unstoppable.”
CHAPTER 40
Ajax’s estancia, which was maintained by servants while he was overseas, was set on a thousand acres. The house was pink, a two-story stucco affair with a tiled roof. On both sides were arched verandas over covered porches. The setting was just as immaculate as the house itself, which lay between a lake and an Olympic-sized swimming pool that featured dozens of fountains and expansive patios. Half a dozen grass umbrellas created pools of shade in the grass nearby or on the patio itself. Fifty acres of immaculate lawns surrounded the pool, the house, and the lake. The lawns were like golf courses after a fresh mowing. Along the edge of the lake, several massive trees rose up like trophies of greatness, honor, and distinction, their crooked trunks rising and sprouting webs of high branches like umbrellas for the mighty. Their reflections stretched across the lake like an artist’s canvas.
An acre of perfectly-manicured lawn set off from the pool was busy with activity. Statues of Greek orators and politicians fringed the area and kept watch on the mortals. A dozen white event tents had been erected in convenient locations. Caterers were setting up. Florists were taking pictures and making plans. Decorators were placing seven-foot high urns at twenty-foot intervals in lines that stretched outward from the stage like an expanding funnel. Gaucho cowboys were setting up huge barbecues. Over two hundred journalists, reporters, and cameramen had set up their equipment behind a thick red velvet rope that was strung from one ornamental brass post to another. The reporters had hungry looks in their eyes, like vultures getting ready to descend on the corpse of a dead animal. All of this media activity was centered around the stage that had been erected for the band, which would soon be arriving for the wedding party. The press, however, was here for another reason. They were here to report on a wonderful discovery—an artifact that would change history. On the raised white platform, a microphone awaited a speaker.
Dressed to kill, Irina and Ajax strolled out from the house and sauntered across the grass. Ajax’s white suit adorned him with more grandeur than the robes of an Egyptian pharaoh. A dozen reporters broke ranks and tried to intercept them, but members of the security team herded them back behind the rope. Ajax sat in a white chair by the stage. Irina ascended the stage and approached the mike.
While she glanced at her note cards briefly, a man in a black suit and sunglasses placed something covered in black satin on the table in front of the mike.
An excited murmur arose from the crowd.
Irina was a picture of worldly beauty as she stood at the microphone in her custom-tailored pink dress. Her gold-threaded headband wrapped around her strawberry blond hair. Her intense blue eyes, her long face, her tall lean body—she stood in the sun like a vision from the times of glory. A reporter was heard whispering, “Camera candy.”
Irina reached out and adjusted the height level of the mike slightly.
She began to speak. She said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you today to unveil for the world the greatest discovery in the history of archaeology. That which I bring before you is like no other artifact that has ever been discovered. All the treasures of King Tut pale in comparison and drop into insignificance when compared to the artifact that I bring before you.”
Her graceful arm gestured toward the secret that was hidden under the black satin. She was teasing them. The reporters were practically drooling.
“Ladies and gentlemen, do not be fooled by the small size of the treasure that I’ll be revealing for you shortly. Although it is small, it is also profound. Think of the lips of a United States president in a time of international tension and crisis. Imagine that he faces an army of cameras just as I do today. Imagine that his lips move, but just barely and briefly. Imagine the smallest of speeches as he utters but one word, ‘War.’
“Then he descends the platform and returns to his chambers. Imagine the gravity and consequences of speaking that little word. Imagine world war rages from the manmade islands of the China Sea to the hot sands of the Sahara. Armies of men are decimated and civilians are ravaged from the blood-stained beaches of Africa to the smoking cities of Germany. All of this from one little word. Little things can have massive consequences.”
Her tanned arm stretched toward the covered object. Jewelry glittered in the sun.
“That which I will reveal to you today is very small, yet its impact on the world will be far greater than
even the word spoken by the president. Ladies and gentlemen, what I will show you today will begin a chain reaction that will reach around the globe over and over and over.
“How is all of this possible from something so small as this?” She gestured toward the black satin cloth over the mysterious box. “The world is about to discover that all of history for the past 2000 years was based on a lie. That’s right, a lie. Men have lived and died in deception.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Western Civilization has been built on Christianity. Millions of common people have believed in their church, their god, their faith. Now, however, as I said, the greatest discovery in the history of archaeology will change all of that. Everything that generations have believed in is about to be revealed as false.
“The Bible is about to be proven to be an elaborate deception. The savior is about to be revealed for what he really is—a shrewd, wise man with a dark sense of humor. That’s right. Just a wise man. A talented man. That’s it. A man who created a myth of his own divinity.”
Gasps drifted through the crowd. Reporters exchanged excited looks.
“In the Bible,” Irina continued. “Revelations 5 spoke of a sealed metal book. That book has been a mystery for 2000 years, but now it has been found. It is here before you now, protected from the light of the sun by black satin. This book is called the Christ Confession. That’s right. Christ makes his confession in this book. He admits that he is just a man. The joke is on all of us because he referred to this book in Revelations 5. The reference has been right in front of mankind for two thousand years. He was mocking us.
“Some of the most powerful nations in history have ridden the horse of Christianity. Millions of people have committed their lives at the alters of Christianity. We are about to discover concrete proof that we have all been fooled.
Irina walked around the podium and stood by the table, looking down at the black satin. Silence fell over the entire lawn area. The silence hung thick for a full minute. Then two security men dressed in black ascended the stage. Lifting the black satin just a little at the corners, they attached two big paddle locks to the base of the hidden display case. Then they wrapped chains around the legs of the table and locked these to bolted rings on the floor of the stage.
The security men left the stage, but stood by the stairs. Ten more big-armed men joined them along the edge of the stage.
Slowly, Irina, reached out for the black satin. Suddenly, she tore it away, revealing a glass box. Ooohs and aaahs washed over the throng of reporters. A mood of excitement hung in the air. Notes were rapidly scribbled on little white tablets. Reactions and observations were spoken into microphones. Cameras rolled and filmed picturesque reporters who spoke with passion on the tremendous gravity of the moment. Hundreds of clicks of cameras were heard as photographers captured the moment.
Irina said, “There it is, ladies and gentlemen. The Christ Confession. You probably can’t read it because it is written in a Galilean dialect of Aramaic, the language of Judea in the first century. The Confession was made, and after 2000 years, it rests right here in this bullet-proof glass box.
“We will allow you to form a line and walk past it on the stage, but stay behind the red satin rope that we have set up on stage in front of the table. Do not touch the glass. Keep your fingers off of the glass. This is evidence that will bring down Christianity.”
A hushed murmuring of eager voices passed through the crowd of reporters.
“This shocking revelation will lead to a reshuffling of the worldwide deck of power and policy.
“There is no God, ladies and gentlemen. We now have the proof. Here it is right in front of your own eyes. You may take photographs as you pass by, but do not hold up the line. As you exit the stage, be sure to pick up a press kit on that table over there. It will give you the background information that you will need to write your stories and inform your expert panels for broadcast news. You will also find statements and verifications from over a dozen scientists. The relic’s authenticity has been absolutely verified—scientifically. Therefore, after today, at the request of our top scientists, we have agreed to let them focus their efforts on the relic’s preservation, so for an indefinite time it will not be available for further study or examination. That is why we called all of you here today—to share it with everyone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. You may now form a line by the base of the stairs, but please do so in an orderly manner.”
Soft applause broke out over the lawn. As Irina left the stage, reporters and cameramen headed for the stage. The media formed an orderly line and shuffled up on stage and past the lead book in the glass case. Gasps were heard. Photos were constantly taken. As reporters exited the stage, they took their positions all over the lawn. Hundreds of reporters faced hundreds of cameramen and gave live reports by satellite links that were broadcast all over the world.
Irina and Ajax retreated into the house and strolled past the open French doors into the parlor. Irina sat down in an 18th-century Portuguese chair and smoothed her pink dress over her thighs. She picked up a remote control and switched on a big-screen television in the smoking parlor. As she flipped the channels, she was astounded at what she saw. It seemed like already half of the stations in the world were broadcasting footage from her yard. Many of them were showing her, giving her speech. Others had experts offering commentary on her speech. Still more had reporters giving live reports. Photos of the lead book had already been downloaded and were constantly flashing up on the big screen.
Even images of Jesus were being shown on the news—and disrespectful things were being said about him. All kinds of experts who’d never laid hands on the Confession were proclaiming its authenticity. Irina couldn’t recall any event in her life that had commanded this much press. She flipped off the television.
They had to prepare for the wedding party, which would be one of the most extraordinary weddings in history. The bride and groom smiled at each other. Their expressions changed to alarm, however, with the sounds of shattering glass in a back room.
CHAPTER 41
Irina looked at Ajax with concern. A window was just broken. What was going on? she wondered. Did someone on the security team cause an accident? Maybe it was a glass table… Maybe…
Then she heard yelling. Irina stood up. She and Ajax looked at each other. A couple of security guys ran into the house, and down the hall.
“What’s happening?” Irina shouted at them.
Another security agent, a dark-skinned man with a big wide face, walked toward her. “It’s alright,” he said. “We have it under control. A reporter broke a window.”
Irina clenched her fists as she spoke. “What do you mean by that? Why would they do that?”
“It’s alright, ma’am. He liked the speech. Said he was trying to get inside for an exclusive interview.”
Irina heard an insane scream from the bathroom. Then she heard a scuffle. She heard a thud as a body evidently hit the wall. Then it got quiet again.
“An interview? Are you serious?”
“Yes, ma’am. He was stirred up. The guys are giving him a shot of Haloperidol. That’ll calm him down.”
“Get him out of here.”
“Right away.” The man turned and hurried down the hall.
Irina turned to Ajax. “The world is going to change very quickly. What just happened here is an omen of things to come. As the broadcasts feed out across the globe, people will respond. There will be outbursts all over the globe. This rebellion has been waiting to happen for two thousand years.”
Irina realized that there was not a moment to lose. She was in the process of changing the world and she must capitalize on the moment. The words of Shakespeare kept repeating in her mind: “There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.” She only wished her son would study Shakespeare rather than apologetics and theology.
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Irina got out her phone. She said, “I’ve got to call El Jefe to confirm.”
“Yes,” Ajax said. “Do it.”
She dialed.
El answered. He said, “What have you done?”
Irina didn’t answer that. She enjoyed the heavy silence between them. She knew what he was talking about. She knew how it felt. She knew what it was like to be betrayed.
“The Confession should never have been exposed,” El Jefe said.
“Why not, Santiago? Times are changing.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m starting a new life with Ajax. This is a new beginning for us. We’re not going to build on a rotten foundation. We’re not going to have a dirty secret hidden in the closet.”
“You had no right.”
“Really? Let me tell you something. You had no right to throw me out like trash five years ago. Do you have any conception of the misery I went through every day for five years? You and Nick destroyed me. But maybe I should thank you both because you made me the woman I am today. I will never again allow myself to be powerless. I will do what I have to do to survive and win. Nobody but me will determine my actions and my destiny.”
“I asked you what you are doing.”
“You should have done it yourself, Santiago. You were El Jefe after all. But no, you clung to tradition. You had to keep the Confession secret even though Camilo Torres created it to be revealed to the public. Why? Tradition.”
“Tradition should be respected.”
“I don’t know. I was the victim of a cruel family tradition of protecting power no matter what. I know something about tradition. During five sad, lonely years, I traveled the world, Santiago. I saw tradition. In Japan, I saw the Onbashira tradition of pulling logs down a steep hill. Men were crushed by logs, even killed. That was their tradition. In the western Indian town of Solapur, I saw people line up to drop their babies off a 15-meter tower. They caught the babies in a white sheet. Tradition says this act makes the babies stronger. Maybe they’re right. I was shoved over the edge, and now I am stronger. I am what you and your traditions have made me.”