by Jon Steele
Flash.
Hanging on the cross, the weight of his form pulling down on the nails in his hands and lashings around his wrists. Gasping for air now, unable to breathe. Raising his head, seeing Jerusalem through the blood in his eyes. Raising his head higher to the sun in the sky. He can see it burning, bursting, washing the world with light. A sign, a sign. Yeshua ben Yosef’s soul was safe amid the stars, and this Passover night, he would look down on the Holy City. All is well. He lowers his head and releases his final breath. He whispers . . .
Blink.
“Last words.”
Krinkle and the inspector looked at each other, not sure if Harper was hallucinating. The inspector held the lantern close to Harper’s face.
“Look into my eyes, Mr. Harper, listen to the sound of my voice. Komarovsky is dead, the child is safe. There will be contact in another thousand years.”
More jets roared over Jerusalem, heading east.
“Earth is dying. Must make contact now.”
Krinkle let out a sigh of relief. He grabbed Harper’s hand. “What a friggin’ relief. For a second I thought you’d gone AWOL. Come on, brother, let’s do it.”
They lifted Harper from the ground. He coughed and blood sprayed from his mouth. They carried him to the Anointing Stone.
“Astruc?” Harper said.
“Already on the roof, Mr. Harper.”
“Good man,” Harper said.
The lamps above the stone had all been shattered in the battle. The polished surface of the stone was covered with pieces of broken red glass and tiny metal crosses.
“Here, facing east,” Harper said. Then he slumped between his bearers.
“Come on, brother,” Krinkle said, “stay with us.”
They pulled him back to his feet.
“The medics are on their way, Mr. Harper. You just need to hold on,” the inspector said.
“Lantern . . . Must lift it high. Help me.”
Krinkle and Gobet put the lantern in Harper’s hands, raised it over his head. Harper breathed as deep as he could, but the watery blood was gathering in the back of his throat. His hands began to slip from the lantern.
“Mr. Harper . . .”
He recovered, balanced himself. “Stand back.”
“You’ll fall, brother.”
“Stand back.”
Slowly they pulled their hands from him. He wobbled but did not fall. He stood alone before the Anointing Stone with the lad’s lantern high over his head. He looked up to the great mosaic of the dead Christ being carried to his tomb. You are not forsaken. He stumbled, but regained his balance. His hands trembled as he raised the lantern one more inch.
“Consummatum est!”
And he smashed the lantern down onto the Anointing Stone.
There was an explosion of light, and the earth began to tremble and groan. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre rocked and swayed. Windows throughout the church shattered, cracks appeared in the walls, chunks of stone fell from the ceiling. Harper fell hard onto the floor stones. Krinkle lay over him to protect him from falling debris. The inspector crouched next to them; he was receiving flash traffic through his comms set.
“It’s an earthquake, all through the Jordan Valley.”
Krinkle looked at Harper. “You sure those were the right last words, brother?”
Harper smiled through bloodied teeth. “I’m sure.”
Inspector Gobet stood. “Into the courtyard, everyone!”
Corporal Mai was already leading her team from the rotunda. Max was in the Swiss Guard’s arms, while Katherine held the IV. The earth shook again and she tripped. Inspector Gobet ran to Katherine to help her. Krinkle lifted Harper into his arms and they all stumbled outside. Inspector Gobet ordered his muscle to take positions to cover the high walls, and the Swiss Guard covered the doors of the church.
“There may be a few renegades hiding in the shadows of the city, take them down.”
Krinkle got to the center of the courtyard. “Here, away from the walls,” he said.
They laid Harper and Max on the ground, side by side. They all got to their knees and leaned over them to protect them. Krinkle opened his duffel bag and pulled out bandages and an IV of shimmering liquid.
“Here, Boz, run this,” he said to Inspector Gobet.
The inspector found a vein on Harper’s arm, inserted the needle, and opened the fluid. Krinkle dug through the bag and pulled out two shock blankets. He tossed one at Corporal Mai; the both of them tore open the wrappers, spread the blankets over Harper and Max, then tucked them under their backs and wrapped them in cocoons. Katherine pulled Max into her arms and lay over him. Krinkle did the same with Harper.
Then the earth calmed.
All sounds of battle ceased.
Inspector Gobet received flash traffic on his comms kit.
“Message received,” the cop said. He looked at Harper. “Reports are flooding into HQ that enemy shadows are disappearing,” he said.
“From Jerusalem?” Krinkle said.
“From everywhere in the world. They are gone, our war is over.”
Harper looked to the stars in the sky. There was Orion, there was the North Star, he thought. Then, slowly, he raised his trembling hand and pointed to the seven-starred cluster of the Pleiades.
“Incoming,” he whispered.
They all looked up, as all the world looked up to see a great slash of fire and light arc across the sky. It hovered and shimmered and turned night into day. Then from inside the church came a deep-throated droning sound: Ooooommmmmm, ooooommmmmm, ooooommmmmm. The tone rose and fell in pitch, searching for a specific resonance within the walls of the church, and when it found it, the entire massive thing began to hum as if the stones themselves had come to life and were singing to the heavens. Then came the one o’clock bell ending the midnight hour.
Krinkle leaned down to Harper, got close to his face. “You hear, brother? That’s contact. You friggin’ did it.”
Harper coughed up blood. Krinkle lifted Harper’s head and torso to rest on his lap.
“You listen to me, brother. We got you through this once, we’ll do it again. But you’ve got to work with me. You hold on, friggin’ hold on.”
Inspector Gobet touched Harper’s shoulder. “Yes, hold on, good fellow, the medics are a few minutes out. We will get you help.”
Harper watched the comet until it faded; then the drone quieted and the stars returned with the silent night.
“Maman.”
A child’s voice.
Harper turned his head as Inspector Gobet shifted aside. Harper saw the profile of a young boy with black hair. Wrapped in a shock blanket and peeking out from under his mother’s arms. Katherine was still huddled over him. Slowly she straightened up and looked down on her son.
“Max?”
He reached for her face and touched her cheek. “Maman.”
“Hello, Max, hello, honey.”
She leaned down and kissed him. The child played with his mother’s hair.
Astruc came running from the church; he knelt at Harper’s feet. “Primary triangulations are in. Blue Brain is running the show now. All is well.”
Harper lost focus and faded for a second, but Krinkle called him back. “Hey, stay with us, brother.” Harper came back and tried to raise his arm. Krinkle loosened the shock blanket, helped him lift it. Slowly Harper signed to Astruc, The nails, the cup. Must go back to the grave with the scroll.
The priest lowered himself to one knee. He touched Harper’s shoulder.
It will be done, mon ami.
“Flash traffic reports the medics are two minutes out now,” the inspector said.
Harper crunched over and coughed blood. “No.”
“Brother?”
“The locals . . . not me.” He looked up at Inspector Gobet.
“Mr. Harper, our war is over and we will be withdrawn from this world very shortly. The medics have a new technology to separate you from your form. It’s experimental
but it just might work. You only need to hold on a little longer.”
“No more. I want to stay awhile and rest . . . please.”
Inspector Gobet bowed his head a moment, whispering to himself as if in prayer. Then he stood erect, radioed through his comms unit. “Baker Six to all units. Medics not required on site. Attend to the locals. That is an order.”
Then a woman’s voice.
“Harper?”
Harper turned his head, saw Katherine staring at him. Max was lying across her lap, holding out his hand and pointing his way.
“Max wants to touch you,” Katherine said.
Krinkle checked with Inspector Gobet; the cop nodded. Krinkle turned Harper’s arm toward the child. Harper opened his bloodied hand, and Max touched his finger to Harper’s gloved palm.
“Want to watch the stars with me, kid?” Harper whispered.
“Boo,” the boy said.
Harper looked at Katherine.
“That’s what he calls Marc Rochat’s cat. And a lot of other things. In this case it means ‘yes.’”
Harper watched Max lay back in his mother’s arms. The little guy watched the stars a bit and went to sleep. See, it’s easy, boyo. All you have to do is close your eyes.
“If you say so, mate,” Harper whispered to himself, then choking and gasping for air, grabbing at his legs.
“What is it, brother? What do you need?”
“Matchbox . . . in pocket.”
Inspector Gobet pulled aside the shock blanket and dug through Harper’s pockets. He found the matchbox, showed it to Harper.
“Inside,” Harper whispered.
The inspector opened the box, removed the dented five-franc coin. Harper held out his hand. “Please.”
“Of course, my dear fellow. Of course.” The inspector said, laying the coin in Harper’s palm.
Harper flashed beforetimes. He saw Marc Rochat in Lausanne Cathedral. He was smiling, happy, giving Harper the coin for good luck . . . Thank you, lad. Harper blinked slowly, opened his eyes. Katherine was watching him now and her eyes were full of tears, but they were not tears of sorrow. Harper showed the coin to Katherine. “For Max, yeah.”
Katherine smiled. “Yes, Harper, for Max. You rest now. Just close your eyes and rest.”
“Yeah. I’m so . . . very tired.”
Harper closed his fist around the coin and held it tight. Krinkle eased him to the ground and rested his head on the duffel bag; he put Harper’s hands together and covered them with his own.
“I’m with you, brother, we’re all with you.”
Harper nodded, looked at the stars again. There were the Pleiades and there was Sirius, he thought . . . there was the galaxy stretched across the sky . . . there was the edge of the bloody universe. You see that, boyo? Then fast-moving clouds rolled in from the Mediterranean Sea and the stars were hidden from him. Harper closed his eyes; he felt tiny drops of rain fall from the heavens and touch his face.
“Blessed are the dead . . .”
INSPIRARE
The black Mercedes turned onto the esplanade of Lausanne Cathedral and stopped near the chestnut trees. Corporal Mai alighted from the shotgun seat and scanned the scene. It was a warm evening with deep blue skies. Dozens of locals strolled around the cathedral; a hundred more were camped along the ramparts with blankets, picnic baskets, and bottles of wine. They had come to watch the sunset over Lac Léman and listen to the music that would soon fill the cathedral. Corporal Mai opened the Merc’s right passenger door.
“I’ll go inside and check our seats,” she said.
Katherine Taylor tied a white silk scarf over her hair and tossed the tails back over her shoulders. “We’ll wait for you on the esplanade, yeah?”
Corporal Mai pulled a cell phone, tapped in a code, and hit send.
“You’re covered. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Katherine checked the fading light outside. It was still too bright for her eyes. She put on her Ray-Bans; the funny kind from the clinic in Vevey. The lenses cleansed each particle of daylight in the 4000oK to 8000oK range before the light hit her eyes. That’s what the little man in the white coat had told her, anyway. She stepped from the car, reached back.
“Come on, Max.”
The little boy climbed down from the backseat and stood on the cobblestones. He had been dressed for the occasion. His black shoes were polished, and he wore a new pair of dungarees and a new white sweater. Katherine leaned down, licked her fingers, and combed her son’s mop of black hair. She eyed him from head to toe.
“You’re growing like a weed.”
Max stood on his toes.
“Soon, I’ll be this big.”
“Don’t rush it, buster. One day you’re playing whack-a-mole in your high chair, saying ‘Boo’ and ‘Goog,’ the next day you’re reading books and talking like a pro. You need to be a kid for as long as you can, and I want to be a kid’s mom for as long as I can. Tu me comprends?”
“Oui, Maman.”
“Now, this is a concert, so there are a few rules. No blowing your nose, no tapping your heels on the chair, no ‘I have to pee’ until the intermission.”
“May I drink from the fountain before we go inside?”
“Can you keep from being a big Mr. Dribble Face on your new sweater?”
“I’m not a big Mr. Dribble Face, I’m a weed.”
She poked the tip of his nose.
“And a pretty funny one at that.”
Katherine stood, took Max’s hand, and walked toward the fountain. She looked over the locals along the ramparts. There were Swiss Guards hiding among them; probably a few more amid the crowd strolling on the esplanade. She had no idea who they might be. But she knew they were out there watching her, watching her son. She lifted Max onto the stone basin and held him steady.
“Just a sip so we don’t have to break the no-pee rule, okay?” Katherine said.
“Okay.”
Max leaned under the iron spout and sipped from the cold stream. He straightened up.
“Done?” Katherine said.
“Uh-huh.”
She lowered him to the ground. He stood very still a moment, watching the faces in the crowd.
“Bonsoir. Are you coming inside the cathedral for the concert?” he said to them.
The locals answered with hellos as the well-spoken little boy wiped his mouth with his sleeve. One of the locals explained that, no, they liked to be outside for the “resonance.” Max did not know the meaning of that word, but he would remember it and read about it tomorrow.
“Bonne soirée, messieurs et mesdames,” he said.
“Et vous, le petit monsieur.”
Katherine rescued Max’s sweater from further dribbles with a handkerchief. She wiped his mouth, gave his hair one last comb with her fingers.
“All set?”
Max patted the pockets of his trousers.
“Oops, I dropped it.”
He dashed for the Mercedes. The passenger door opened automatically and he jumped onto the backseat and looked around.
“Looking for this?” a voice from the driver’s seat said.
Max saw Sergeant Gauer staring at him in the rearview mirror. He was holding a dented five-franc coin. Max reached for it, Sergeant Gauer pulled it back.
“What’s the magic phrase?”
“E = mc2.”
“No, the other magic phrase.”
“Planck time is the smallest measurable unit of time.”
“No, the other other magic phrase.”
Max thought about it. “Please, sir, may I have my lucky coin back?”
“Bravo,” Sergeant Gauer said, handing over the coin. “Be careful with it, Max. You never know when you may need it.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Max jumped from the car and ran to his mother.
“Got everything now?”
“Yes, Maman.”
Katherine led him across the esplanade toward the cathedral. They weaved between th
e evening’s strollers. At the great limestone arch of the entrance Katherine saw the placard mounted on the plinth between the old wood doors.
Ella Mínervudóttir
Les Meditations 1–6
Cathédrale de Lausanne, 20.00
Max busied himself with the funny creatures carved in the arch. His favorite was Jack and the Beanstalk, but it took time to find him. The fellow was always hiding somewhere new. Max found Jack just as the cathedral doors opened and Corporal Mai stepped out.
“We need to go in by the belfry entrance,” she said. “There is nothing but standing room in the aisles.”
Katherine shook her head.
“But I booked seats weeks ago.”
“There was a mixup with the reservations. The concierge said to use the belfry entrance. He’ll find us a place in the back of the nave through the gift shop.”
“But . . .”
“Come on, Kat, it’s the best we can do.”
They hurried to the red door at the far side of the belfry. Max ran with them, thoroughly enjoying the confusion. Corporal Mai pressed the palm of her hand against the red door and it popped open. They went into the alcove, the red door closed behind them. For a moment Katherine was confused. The entrance to the gift shop and the back of the nave was shut, but the security door to the belfry was open and there were candles on the rising stone steps. Katherine took the sunglasses from her eyes and watched the flames. She had been up and down the tower with Max many times since Jerusalem. But just now, seeing the candles lighting the way to the belfry, Katherine flashed beforetimes . . . half naked and bleeding, running across the esplanade, hiding from Komarovsky’s goons. A misshapen man jumps from the shadows, grabs her, and drags her into the cathedral. You can hide here until you can find a way home, he tells her. That’s how Marc Rochat came into her life. Katherine blinked herself to nowtimes, looked at Corporal Mai.
“What’s going on?”
Corporal Mai gave Katherine a nudge.
“Would you just try and have some fun, Kat?”
Katherine looked at Max. “What do you think, buster? Shall we have some fun?”
“Will there be any teasing shadows?”
Katherine pulled the scarf from her long blond hair. “Maybe.”
“Okay.”
They made their way up the first turns of the tower, then back and forth through the women’s choir loft; candles lit their way and Max spotted teasing shadows in the high corners. Climbing the corkscrew stairs to the bells, they came to a low wooden door in the side of the curving wall. The door stood open, and burning candles lined the inside of the tunnel.