2021

  The President himself gazed down at the piece of paper in his hand and he now just frowned as he shook his head.

  ‘What the hell is this supposed to be then?’ he puzzled.

  He then handed it to the General.

  ‘What do you make of this, General?’ he asked him curiously.

  The General studied the piece of paper and then became quite animated.

  ‘WHY THAT’S HIM!’ he suddenly shouted. Then he realised he was being a little too loud and so he quietened down again.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr President, but that’s him, that’s the young man who came to see me, but what is this? Is it an artist’s impression of what happened out there or something?’ the General puzzled as he looked at the picture again.

  The President now read off an email that had come with the picture.

  ‘Well according to Pope Paul it’s an unknown Van Gogh painting they have in the Vatican called ‘The Prayerman 2021’ it was the last thing Van Gogh ever painted apparently’ explained the President.

  ‘But it can’t be?’ puzzled General Iram. ‘That face is the face of the young man who came to see me.’

  The President just sat down in his chair.

  ‘But what do I tell the all people now? I can hardly tell them that a young guy who was in a Van Gogh painting that was painted a hundred odd years ago somehow saved us can I’ exclaimed the President as he just shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘You could say we blew the Migrators away using conventional weapons?’ suggested the General.

  ‘People might then demand to know why we hadn’t done that sooner and saved so many people’s lives’ responded the President. ‘Anyway, we’d already explained how all our conventional weapons didn’t work’ he insisted.

  The President paused for a moment before pressing a button on his desk.

  ‘Susan, can you get me Pope Paul on the line please’ he ordered.

  ‘Pardon me?’ she puzzled.

  ‘You heard!’ he repeated.

  ‘Maybe you should just tell the world the truth that it was a miracle?’ suggested General Iram with a wry smile.

  ‘At this rate, General, I might have to!’ smiled The President.

  Just then the President’s phone rang.

  ‘OK, put him through’ heard General Iram as he stood there listening to the President’s phone call with interest.

  ‘Hello, Your Holiness’ smiled the President.

  The President then put the phone on ‘speaker’ so the General could overhear their conversation.

  ‘I just wanted to thank you for the copy of the Van Gogh painting you sent me’ the President smiled.

  ‘Yes, the young man in that painting came to see me with an amazing power of prayer’ explained Pope Paul.

  ‘He was a Catholic then?’ queried the President.

  ‘No, he told me he was a young man of no particular faith or religion. I knew immediately though, he had been blessed by God Almighty with the immense power of prayer’ explained the Pope.

  ‘God damn, this almost sounds like the ‘Second Coming’ or something?’ muttered General Iram.

  ‘Who is that I hear?’ puzzled the Pope as the General now looked slightly uncomfortable that his comment had been overheard by the Pope.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Your Holiness, I have General Iram with me, he has just returned from the International Defence Army’s front line’ explained the President.

  ‘Hello, General Iram, was you fortunate enough to meet this young man?’ asked Pope Paul.

  ‘Yes, Sir, I was’ replied the General as the President quickly scribbled on a piece of paper ‘address him as Your Holiness’.

  ‘Then tell me, General, what did you make of this young man?’ asked Pope Paul with a tinge of curiosity in his voice.

  ‘Well, Your Holiness, I was about to send him away as I was so busy designing the defences, but then he just touched my hand and I just knew somehow’ replied the General.

  ‘Knew?’ queried the President ‘knew what?’

  ‘Well, Mr President, I just knew that he was the Prayerman’ explained General Iram looking slightly embarrassed.

  ‘Is the young man still alive?’ asked Pope Paul and the President looked to the General for an answer.

  ‘No, Your Holiness, the people who were with him at the end said he asked to be lowered into the centre of the Migrators. Then he knelt down to pray and then….’ the General just shrugged his shoulders not knowing how to explain exactly what happened after that.

  ‘What happened was what is depicted within the Van Gogh Painting’ stated the Pope.

  ‘Well, yes, that’s exactly what they are saying!’ admitted General Iram. ‘All the people who witnessed what happened all said just that, that it was exactly the same as that depicted in that painting.’

  The General looked at the picture of the painting again and nodded his head to the President.

  ‘Yes, that’s definitely him, Mr President.’

  ‘But is the Van Gogh painting really genuine, Your Holiness? I mean, there couldn’t be any mistake could there?’ pondered the President.

  ‘We definitely believe it to be genuine, Mr President’ the Pope informed him before explaining more.

  ‘The painting was presented to us around the end of the Second World War as the unknown, last great painting of the Dutch artist known as Vincent Van Gogh. It was seized by the Nazis during the Second World War and was treasured by Adolf Hitler himself for a time as he believed it to carry with it occult powers’ explained the Pope.

  ‘That’s amazing!’ commented the President as he wanted to know more.

  ‘We’ve had the painting authenticated by our own art experts here at the Vatican, but we have also had extensive tests down on samples we sent to other experts all around the world, who also declared it to be genuine. The materials and paint were carbon dated and compared to those we now know Van Gogh used when he was alive’ explained the Pope.

  ‘You sound somewhat of an art expert yourself, Your Holiness?’ smiled the President.

  ‘I’m not an expert, but I am a keen lover of all art, but especially fine paintings’ explained the Pope cheerfully before continuing;

  ‘When the painting was given to us we believed it showed the Anti-Christ. Now of course, we know we had that very wrong indeed’ laughed the Pope politely.

  ‘But how is all this possible?’ puzzled The President ‘I mean, even if the painting wasn’t a Van Gogh, it sounds like it’s been in the Vatican’s possession fifty years or more before that young man was even born?’

  ‘Maybe the face on the painting was changed later?’ pondered the General.

  ‘No, all the paint is of the same age’ stated the Pope ‘and in any case we have photographs of it when it was first presented to us that show clearly the same young man’s face on them.’

  ‘Then this is all just incredible’ marvelled the President.

  ‘Yes, it is quite remarkable’ agreed Pope Paul. ‘We recently came into possession of an Egyptian scroll hidden inside a large metal cup, both were written in an ancient Hebrew dialect, same as the oldest Bible texts’ continued Pope Paul.

  ‘In the scroll itself it predicts the coming of a young man and calls him by the name of The Prayerman’ explained the Pope. ‘It describes him as an ordinary working man who will one day save all the people of the world from a previously unknown and evil warrior from the stars. I’ll have our people send you a photograph of both the cup and the scroll discovered inside it with a translation into English if you like.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Your Holiness, that’s very kind of you’ smiled the President.

  ‘It sounds like a genuine miracle has really just happened then’ commented the General thoughtfully.

  ‘We are indeed lucky, General Iram, to have witnessed such an event in the year of our Lord 2021’ replied the Pope cheerfully.<
br />
  ‘But tell me, Your Holiness, what will you tell all your followers?’ asked the President curiously.

  ‘I will tell them the truth, Mr President that we have witnessed the coming into the world of a miraculous young man, one who God sent here to save us’ stated Pope Paul firmly.

  ‘Thank you, Your Holiness’ smiled the President.

  ‘God bless you both’ replied the Pope before hanging up.

  ‘That settles it then!’ smiled the President cheerfully ‘if Pope Paul is going to say it was a ‘miracle’ who am I to argue!’

  That night, the President of the United States mounted a podium in front of hundreds of thousands of people set just before the Lincoln Memorial. The speech was broadcast live on television and radio and was watched by people all around the world.

  In his speech, the President thanked every nation for their bravery in making a stand against the invincible Migrators, but then he took a deep breath.

  ‘As anyone there on the front line will tell you, we could only hold the Migrators back. For in truth, the world was saved by a miracle, a miracle that came in the form of one young man who with a power somehow given to him, wiped the Migrators off the face of this Earth! That young man’s name Ladies and Gentleman was The Prayerman!’

  It was to become the most famous, but also the most controversial speech by any United States President in the whole of history.

  In short, it caused a sensation!

  Earlier in Rome, Pope Paul had given a similar speech to his millions of followers all around the world. He asked for prayers of thanks to God for sending humanity the young man he called ‘The Prayerman’ and he asked for prayers to be said, to comfort all the people who had lost friends and loved ones and to thank God for the miracle the world had received.

  Walking back after giving his usual final apostolic blessing to the City of Rome and the rest of the World, Pope Paul passed by the Van Gogh painting still lying there face down on the wall.

  ‘One moment please!’ he smiled as he walked back towards it.

  ‘Perhaps we could now have this painting placed the right way round?’ he smiled.

  ‘Yes, Your Holiness’ smiled both Cardinal’s Greco and Moretti as they did just as he said and carefully turned it proudly face up on the wall.

  ‘I think it’s earned that much now, don’t you?’ he smiled as the two Cardinals both smiled and agreed.

  Pope Paul then approached the painting and he just smiled.

  ‘God bless you!’ he uttered as he made the sign of the cross over the painting before moving on again.

  The coming months saw mass funerals and memorial services for the tremendous amount of dead and even more ‘missing presumed dead’ casualties at the hands of the Migrators.

  Special memorial services were also held to honour the troops and also civilian casualties of almost every nationality who had died bravely fighting on the International Defence Wall.

  Services were held all over the world after the announcement of an international day of mourning to commemorate the dead of ‘the Great Migrator War’ as it was now being termed.

  The jubilant celebrations that greeted the Migrator’s defeat were now replaced by pictures of the sheer devastation they had left in their wake.

  Complete cities had been lost, raised completely to the ground and the list of the dead proved truly shocking for everyone to read.

  Almost every nation had lost someone and the world was united in its grief.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  28th February 2037

  Montparnasse,

  Paris, France.

  Bishop Joseph Brown was on a four day sabbatical with other church leaders to discuss the continuing improvement in relations between the many different world faiths and religions.

  On his rest day though, he toured the District of the left bank of the River Seine, famous for its cafes and street artists.

  Being a keen amateur artist himself, Joseph was interested to see the different works on display there by its resident artists.

  His good friend, fellow Bishop and art lover Jacqueline Zimmerman strolled along the area with him as they both admired the work of all the artists on display.

  ‘Oh, I must say, I like this one!’ remarked Jacqueline stopping to admire one particular painting leaning up against a wall.

  ‘Really, you like that one?’ pondered Joseph unable to hide his surprise.

  ‘Yes, its vivid use of colour, it’s so unusual’ she smiled as she just stood there and stared at it ‘there’s just ‘something’ about it don’t you think, Joseph?’ she commented happily.

  ‘Yes it has something, its rubbish!’ laughed Joseph as she just told him off for being so critical.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jacqueline, but it’s just not my cup of tea I’m afraid’ Joseph grimaced as he just looked at the painting again and then shook his head.

  ‘Come on, Joseph, you must be able to see it surely?’ she smiled ‘it just has that special something’ she insisted.

  ‘No, I just told you, I think its just rubbish’ laughed Joseph as she just admonished him again.

  ‘Oi, Don’t be so nasty!’ she criticised him with a friendly smile.

  ‘No, I’m not really into the impressionists’ he commented ‘great landscape artists are more my style. Give me a nice Turner or Constable any day’ he smiled ‘you know, one of the proper painters.’

  ‘Gosh you sound pompous!’ she laughed ‘anyway, this man’s a proper artist too’ she argued.

  ‘Really?’ he scoffed ‘no, not in my eyes’ he smiled.

  ‘Ah, you’re just too stuffy!’ Jacqueline laughed.

  Then she pondered a while whilst she studied the painting again.

  ‘Do you know, I wonder how much it costs?’ she smiled as she looked around for a price label.

  ‘Oh, you’re not actually going to buy that are you?’ Joseph chuckled away.

  ‘Yes I am’ she replied ‘well, that’s if I can ever find the artist who painted it that is’ she smiled as she looked all around for him.

  ‘It looks like no one’s around’ Joseph concluded. ‘Mind you, maybe he doesn’t want to own up to actually having painted it?’ Joseph chuckled away to himself.

  ‘Will you behave yourself, Joseph’ she just laughed.

  There was an older man with a large beer belly standing opposite with half a dozen or so paintings of his own on display, so Jacqueline went over to ask him if he knew where the artist had gone who had painted the particular painting she liked.

  ‘Um, excuse me, I wonder if you speak English?’ she asked politely.

  ‘Me? No Madam’ he replied in perfect English before his face broke into a large smile. ‘Yes, Madam, I was only joking’ he added ‘how can I help you?’ he finally asked.

  ‘Oh, thank you’ she smiled ‘I just wondered if you knew where the artist is who painted that painting over there?’ and she pointed to the one she was interested in buying.

  ‘Probably drinking wine if I know him, down at a café somewhere, well, that’s if he can still find one he doesn’t already owe money to, if there’s even one left in Paris’ he joked with a snigger.

  ‘Oh, only I just wondered how much that painting was?’ she explained as she pointed to it again.

  The man just looked at her and laughed then he shouted over to a young lady artist just a little way away.

  ‘HERE, MICHELLE! SOMEONE ONLY WANTS TO BUY ONE OF FRANZ’S PAINTINGS’ he grinned away.

  ‘YOU’RE JOKING?’ she smiled as she came over to see them.

  ‘Which one?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘The lady wants to buy that one’ he informed her, pointing to it.

  ‘Really?’ she smiled as they both walked over to study it. ‘What is it supposed to be anyway?’ she puzzled as the old man just shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Don’t ask me, I o
nly paint real things. Who knows what’s going on in that crazy man’s head?’

  ‘What’s the artist’s name?’ asked Joseph, purely out of curiosity.

  ‘Oh it’s Franz Rozen, he’s Dutch’ replied the old man bluntly, as the girl artist kept staring at the painting turning her head at different angles to view it differently.

  ‘Will he be long do you think? The artist who painted this one I mean?’ asked Jacqueline and the girl just looked down at her watch.

  ‘He’ll most probably be ages if he’s just started on a new bottle’ she laughed ‘it depends if his brother has sent him some more money’ she smiled.

  ‘Bit of a drinker is he?’ asked Joseph and they both laughed out aloud.

  ‘That’s a bit of an understatement, Monsieur’ the girl smiled.

  ‘That’s a shame, as I wanted to buy that one’ stated Jacqueline sounding quite disappointed.

  ‘Really?’ the girl laughed and then she called over another artist just a little way away.

  ‘HEY PIERRE, SOMEONE WANTS TO BUY ONE OF FRANZ’S PAINTINGS!’ she shouted as Joseph just covered his ears.

  ‘Gosh, you’re a bit loud’ he complained quietly under his breath as Jacqueline just laughed at him.

  The young man immediately came over.

  ‘Really, someone wants to buy one?’ he queried ‘why?’ he laughed.

  ‘My sentiments exactly!’ laughed Joseph as Jacqueline just nudged his arm in annoyance.

  ‘Stop making fun of me’ she smiled ‘I don’t know what it is’ she shrugged ‘there’s just something about that painting.’

  ‘Yes, it’s terrible!’ Joseph giggled away quietly to himself.

  ‘Shut up you! You just keep your opinions to yourself’ she smiled jokingly.

  ‘It’s not just my opinion’ argued Joseph ‘it appears it’s everyone’s baring yours that is’ he smiled.

  ‘Well I don’t care, I like it’ she insisted.

  Jacqueline just chose to ignore him completely now.

  ‘How much do you think the artist would want for the painting?’ Jacqueline now asked as they all just looked at each other blankly and shrugged their shoulders.