A few days later, Rebecca mustered up enough bravery to confront Morlan about the meaning of the questions and whether or not they were a simple Ministry assessment test. "It wasn't an audit," answered Morlan easily. "It was merely a question and nothing more. Try not to trouble yourself any further with its meaning." But that was impossible now. Rebecca needed to understand why the man she revered asked her such a question with no intention of answering it. Was the Ministry lying about their past? Was the Ministry's historical account inaccurate and Morlan knew about it? It sounded like heresy. The questions kept piling up in her head. Rebecca needed answers. She wanted to ask them to her Director. She wanted to know more about Morlan's meaning. Unfortunately, for Rebecca, her obedience training had stifled every opportunity she had to ask. Every time she tried to spit out the question, she remembered what her Director had told her: Try not to trouble yourself any further with its meaning. Internally she wasn't capable of following the order but externally she never made a peep.
Now Rebecca was the Director and with TRNSLTR's results in hand, she realized that the table had flipped. She was the mentor and if she wanted to answer the question it was now up to her to do so. Morlan had long retired and left his duties to the Ministry behind. It was Rebecca's time—at least for a short while, until she was married.
Alone in her office, Rebecca breezed through the initial report accompanying the translation. It essentially served as an overview for what TRNSLTR uncovered, breaking down and separating various areas of interest such as dates, places and names, as well as providing a summary of the logistics of the language used. Rebecca enlarged it on her notepad and saw that the document was dated to 13 AFT (After First Time). That's typical, she thought. Never in her life had Rebecca ever came across any record that dated before The First Time, which made sense to her since The First Time was literally the beginning of civilization. She then moved onto the Locations portion of the report. The results provided were a bit unusual. What in the world? The locations extracted by TRNSLTR were nothing she had ever heard of before—Amman, Baghdad, Budapest, Gaza, Istanbul, New York City, Providence, Tarrytown, Visoko, Washington D.C., Zionsville—and on and on they went.
The report TRNSLTR provided suggested that there were far more than a single cultured society inhabiting the world during The First Time. According to the report, the ancient text suggested that there were many cities in existence, each clearly labeled with its own exotic name. Rebecca found the data both mystifying and exciting—however something wasn't right. Despite what Morlan had implanted in her head she still had a solid foundation of Ministry education that told her that it had to be false—corrupted data. And it wouldn't have been the first time. Ever since TRNSLTR 559's launch a year prior there had been several bugs that appeared. The carbon dating sometimes gave conflicting results on numerous tests dealing with the same document. There were occurrences where the translation was cut short after what appeared to be a successful result. And more recently, the indexing of locations and names had been missing from the report. With each location and name there should have also been a corresponding link that took the viewer to each instance that appeared in the translation. That feature had stopped working almost three weeks prior to Rebecca's newest translation and it appeared to not be fixed. Still though, there was a sinking feeling lurking in the bowels of Rebecca's body that told her something wasn't wrong with TRNSLTR's report. That there was some truth to what it produced.
Rebecca closed the location section and then opened the final view of the report. This one listed out all of the extracted names from the text. TRNSLTR was intelligent enough to discern, through word usage, what would be viewed as a name of an individual. It then compiled its results into the third view of the report. Rebecca allowed the list of names to fill her hand held screen and then skimmed through them.
"Wait a second," Rebecca said quietly as her eyes stopped abruptly. She had thought she saw something familiar. Using her fingers on the screen, she scrolled the list until she found what she thought she had seen—Rebecca Badeau.
"Why on earth is my name in there?!" wondered Rebecca with great surprise. This was a very odd occurrence. She rechecked the list to make sure it was of the names in the translation and not of something else. Her first understanding was correct. But this can't be right. Rebecca was well aware that her birth name "Rebecca" was not a traditional name but a modern one. There were no recorded uses of that name until roughly 1200 AFT and her surname was far newer than that. This must be an error.
Rebecca went back through the list again to see if any other familiar names intermixed. To her total shock there were indeed names she had initially overlooked. The first and possibly biggest one to jump out at her was Charles Theoman, otherwise known as Minister Theoman. "There's no way this is possible," said Rebecca aloud. Why is the Minister's name in the translation? She then saw another one she overlooked. Benjamin Vermil: Jillian's guest. Rebecca began going through each name, one by one, to see if there were others, and there were, including her mother Francesca Badeau, her fiancé Simon Wylde, and of course her biological father Corbin Byrne. "What on earth?!" she said with a panic. Why is his name in here?! It appeared that anyone significant in her life was mentioned in the translation. But this can't be possible! Something was terribly wrong. Then a horrifying realization washed over her with incredible speed. Quality Control has a copy of this!
Rebecca felt like the blood had drained from her body. Her fingertips went numb and she couldn't feel her feet. The room began to slightly rotate. Oh my goodness, she thought as she tried to get a grip. The ramifications of the results were inconceivable.
How can this be? she kept asking herself. Something must have been tampered. Either the text was a fraud or the translation was corrupted. But she couldn't think of a single person who would do something like that. Those kinds of acts didn't occur. The only person she could think of that remotely fit the bill was Jillian Heddington: the woman who had given her the text. Maybe she was jealous of Rebecca's pairing with Simon. But that didn't make sense. Discrediting Rebecca and ruining the engagement wouldn't make a difference for Jillian. People in The Collective didn't get to choose their partners; they were appointed through the Cognitive Examination results. So no matter how jealous Jillian was (if in fact she was jealous), there was nothing she could do about it. Results were results. Unless Jillian was paired with Simon through the test, she could never have him.
Rebecca realized that she was jumping to conclusions too quickly. She took a deep breath and calmed her emotions for a few seconds. It was possible she was getting worked up over nothing. It could just be some bizarre error, she told herself. Rebecca recognized that she had not read any of the actual translation yet. The answer to her dilemma might lay inside the text.
She closed the third and final view of the report and opened the translation results. After taking a deep breath, Rebecca began to read what appeared to be a letter—a letter written about her.
*******
The following are the results for TRN—1152393—DEO—1123h
*******
My dearest reader:
Within your grasp is a chronicle written many years ago, possibly well before your time. The author has long past but the importance of his message holds more true today than it did back then. This man, who will identify himself through his writing, had worked diligently to ensure that his chronicle made its way to the right people so that someday it would land in the hands of the one person he deemed most important; a specific person who will be born at a specific time. Her name will be Rebecca Badeau. If you are not this person then I ask you not to continue beyond this message. This book is not for you. It does, however, need to be kept safe. And since you are reading this, then it has been safe to this point, therefore I beg you to protect this manuscript, as many have before you, for the fate of the world depends upon it. As a man who has lived many lifetimes, I can assure you that these words are ever so true. When the time co
mes, this manuscript must be delivered to her. Until then, it must be protected at all cost. There are malevolent forces out there, right now, who will do anything to destroy what has been written. It's now up to you to save these pages until the time is right to be delivered. Protect this book and protect yourself. Store it somewhere safe. Don't tell anyone about it. And don't read any further. I can't say that enough. The more ignorant you are the better. When the time comes, or if the time is now, give it to Rebecca. She will know what to do with it for this book was written for her. She decides the fate for all.
Good luck, great protector.
With all sincerity,
The Man With A Thousand Names
CHAPTER FIVE
Rebecca couldn't believe what she just read. This was written for me? It had to be a coincidence. She knew it couldn't be possible. And yet the chill running through her body said it was so. It can't be possible. I don't know how to use this book. But that wasn't entirely true. Rebecca had just translated the document, something many others wouldn't have been able to do. But that doesn't mean anything, she thought. There are others who could have done the same, which was true, but the manuscript was given to her, not the others. This has to be some kind of coincidence, she told herself. But Rebecca knew that nothing happened by accident, which means Benjamin Vermil set this up somehow. Then a thought occurred suddenly. She could look him up and see what the Ministry database had on the man. Smiling, Rebecca keyed his name into the search field located on her digital notepad screen.
*******
Searching . . .
*******
It took a few seconds before it came back with zero results. Either Benjamin Vermil was never mentioned before in any archived document or he never existed. Rebecca let out a frustrated sigh.
A light went off on her office computer, notifying of an incoming call. She placed her headset on and told the machine to allow the call. Diara's round face appeared.
"Hello Diara."
"Sorry to call, Director," Diara said while pushing a few dark strands of hair out of her eyes, "but I wanted to remind you that the day's meditation plan had arrived. I've placed it in your message box."
Rebecca looked at the small box on the screen that held her message notifications. There were three new messages waiting to be opened. "Thank you Diara."
"Do you still want me to hold your calls?"
Rebecca shook her head. "No, it's fine, but cancel my 1100h meeting with Jallah and Morris."
"What should I tell them?"
"Just tell them that I've fallen behind in paper work and will continue their training tomorrow morning."
"At what time would you like me to reschedule?"
Rebecca thought about it for a second and then said, "Keep the time the same."
"As you wish, director." And then the screen cleared.
Rebecca took a deep breath, opened the messages box, and then sighed with relief. All three messages were what Rebecca expected them to be. The first one was a daily report that all Directors received in accordance to their field. It was basically a daily progress report, nothing too exciting. The second and third messages were the meditation goals for Second and Third Duty.
Ever since the foundation of the Ministry and the Collective, part of the price of living in a Ministry controlled sector were the Five Duties, or the five meditation cycles of the day. The First Duty and the Fifth Duty were to be performed just before sunrise and after nightfall. They were always the same. Every person in the collective woke up and meditated on the vitality of The Collective at 0500h and then again at the 2100h. The Fourth Duty was focused on the individual well-being and took place at the 1900h. But the Second and Third Duty were different each day. The Second Duty took place at the 1200h and the Third Duty took place at the 1600h. Both meditation assignments were passed down by the Minister to each Dioceses to then further pass along the chain of command.
Now what? Rebecca asked herself as she closed the messages. Time was quickly running short until someone at Quality Control discovered her translation report. I need to know what this text is about. Trying to explain the situation to Quality Control was going to be tough enough. I should have never opened the box, she thought regretfully. Rebecca closed the Ministry database and maximized the translation with her fingers. Moving past the introductory letter, she found another letter addressed directly to her. The author wrote:
*******
My Dearest Rebecca,
I hope this message finds you well and in good standing. There is so much about you that exceeds normal comprehension that I don't know how to begin explaining. My great regret is that I discovered this so late and well after you were gone. Because of that, the world has taken a terrible turn and I'm afraid you will be reading this under heavy scrutiny of a powerful force that threatens your existence.
*******
Rebecca reread those sentences in total disbelief.
*******
I hope for everyone's sake, you are already privy to this threat and have taken proper measures. If not, then this message is more important than I'm hoping.
*******
What threat? She was unaware of any threat. The only thing concerning her at that moment was Quality Control and what they might think after reading their copy of the translation.
*******
It is said, through prophecy, that every 3,500 years a battle for mankind begins—the victor takes control of Earth and rewrites mankind's existence. It has been that way since the seventh day of creation, when God splintered into millions of pieces, bringing forth life and harmony. The largest portions: God's soul, heart and mind, remained intact and were given specific roles in maintaining this harmony. The soul provides meaning, the heart provides compassion, and the mind provides order. In the event that the harmony becomes unbalanced, God is to reform and right what has went wrong. However, the mind has unquenchable pride and is unwilling to accept faults. This unwillingness results in a battle for control. It last occurred in the year 2003 AD and the mind prevailed. The world was reshaped and became more restricted. And now it should be happening again, roughly around the time you read this.
*******
God? Rebecca had never heard of the term. Is it a person? Considering how God was described, being splintered into millions of pieces, she couldn't imagine that it was a person. Rebecca wondered if maybe the author was referring to what indigenous tribes used to refer to as The Creator long before The First Time occurred.
*******
Rebecca, I'm telling you this because of the critical role you play in the battle's outcome. You decide the victor. The decision, however, is far from easy. The mind is very deceitful and has fooled you in the past. Because of that, I'm taking great measures in assuring that what I have to tell you doesn't fall onto deaf ears.
*******
What in the Minister's name? She couldn't fathom what outcome she could decide. This can't be about me. Rebecca reread the part about "the mind" being deceitful and has fooled her in the past. Again, she had no idea what the author could be referring.
*******
I would love nothing more than to be forthright about your role but I fear you won't be able to accept the explanation. Therefore I will tell how I came into possession of this knowledge and hope that through this chronicle of events you will begin to understand your role and what you're up against.
My name is—was—William Coulee. I was a recorder of current events, otherwise known as a journalist. I was born in the year 1976 AD and died in the year 2012 AD.
*******
He's dead? But of course he was dead. The text was supposedly 3,500 years old. Rebecca shook her head and continued reading. She read that William's world had many territories that were referred to as countries as well as many different cultures. William revealed that he lived in a city named New York, and had spent the past five years covering a bloody war in a land named Iraq. William admitted that after the war he came to the famous New Y
ork City and stopped working, which was a little hard for Rebecca to understand. People living within The Collective couldn't quit working on their own. Not only was it forbidden but it was disgraceful to even consider it. Pride ran deep within the members of the Ministry and Rebecca was no exception. In fact, Rebecca was very proud of her status and work ethic. She read:
*******
My life prior to 2008 AD is hardly worth mention. Like many, I was unaware of the cataclysmic conflict secretly developing within the souls of men and women. I simply lived. It wasn't until the day before my thirty-second birthday, that I was given the opportunity to go on what would prove to be The Great Quest.
*******
Rebecca read about a man named Derrick Dohlman, who was William's supervisor at something he referred to as a magazine, contacting him via communiqué. It was then that the light on Rebecca's desktop screen turned on again. Diara was attempting to call her.
Rebecca placed the notepad down and put on the desktop headset. Diara's face appeared. She looked surprisingly stressed. "Director, I have an urgent message for you."
"What is it?"
Diara looked to her side and then began to talk quietly. "I just received word that the Ministry Security Chief is making a sudden visit."
"He's what?" Rebecca said with horror. She was certain he couldn't already know about the translation. Something was terribly wrong. Rebecca tried to think of a plan to stall him while she figured out what to do next. "When he arrives, tell him I'm in a meet—"
"Actually, Director," Diara said in a grave tone as her eyes tracked something off screen, "he already arrived and is in route to your office."
CHAPTER SIX
Rebecca quickly removed her headset and noticed that the original manuscript inside the safebox was in plain view. As she reached out to grab it, there was a rhythmic knocking noise coming from her office door. He's here! Rebecca grabbed the box, placed it on the floor, and out of sight beside her feet. The rhythmic knocking grew louder.
The Sinner King: Book of Fire Page 5