by Tim LaHaye
“Leon, please! You have conferred upon your underlings the power I have imbued you with, have you not?”
“I have, Your Worship, but I prefer not to refer to them as underl—”
“Have any of them, one of them—you, for instance—come up with a thing to match the oceans-to-blood trick?”
“Well, sir, besides the calling down of fire from heaven and the, uh . . . I’d like to think I played some small role—whether just the influence of my presence in part of the meeting with Mr. Micah or . . . anyway—in the healing of the sores.”
“I do not believe you realize, Leon, the scope of the tragedy on the high seas. Do you?”
“Enough to hope it’s not a permanent thing, Excellency.”
“You hope? Think, man! Suhail, does the right-reverend-whatever get the cabinet briefings? Does he read the—”
“Yes, sir, he’s on the list.”
“Leon, read the reports! Our ships are dead in the water! Our marine biologists tell us every creature in the water is surely dead by now! If this is temporary and the water turns pristine tomorrow morning, do you think all the fishies will come flopping back to life too?”
“I certainly hope so!”
“Imbecile,” Carpathia muttered, and Chang assumed Fortunato didn’t hear him. The potentate tended to murder people he referred to that way, and Leon would have been pleading for his life. “Suhail, can we not get this plane off the ground?”
“We’re waiting for Ms. Ivins, sir.”
“Where is she?”
“If I may speak to that, Potentate,” Leon said.
“Of course, if you know where she is.”
“She wanted one last visit to the temple. She wants to be the first woman to go into the main part and see where you went, worship your image in the Holy of Holies, sit on the, uh, in the—”
“What?! You are not saying she would dare sit on the throne of god!”
“No, sir, I misspoke there, sir. I’m certain she wanted only to see it, to perhaps touch it, take a photograph.”
“Why are you not there with her?”
“She wanted only security. She plans to walk in alone and, I believe, just violate a few traditions.”
“I like that.”
“I thought you might. She thought you might too.”
“Find out if she is en route.”
“In the meantime, Potentate,” Akbar said, “we have received the software for lie detection.”
“Yes, get that started now and begin with the stewards.”
Chang heard dread in the voices of the Indians. They answered with conviction and earnestness. “You both test entirely truthful,” Akbar concluded. They wept, expressing their gratitude.
“Been tested, have you?” Carpathia said, as the sounds of their bustling about and serving came through the system.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Indeed.” Carpathia sounded skeptical and dismissive. “Test the pilot, Suhail.”
“Ms. Ivins is on the tarmac, sir.”
“There is time. First him, then Leon, then her. And here is a question I want added to her session.”
The pilot sounded unconcerned, almost bored, answering quickly and matter-of-factly. “He’s clean,” Akbar reported. “Reverend Fortunato, are you ready?”
“I have nothing whatever to hide,” Leon said. But when he was asked the day of the week, he asked if it was a trick question. His answers became more whiny and pensive, but of course, he was cleared too.
The plane took off; then Suhail could be heard talking with Ms. Ivins. “I’m assuming, ma’am, that you are willing, just as a matter of procedure, to submit to the truth test.”
She chuckled. “And what do we do if I am revealed as the leak to the mole?”
“Please clip this on, ma’am.”
“Ready.”
“State your name.”
“Ms. Vivian Ivins.”
“Is today Sunday?”
“No, but I would like to know if I got the first question right.”
Akbar laughed. “Is the sky blue?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a male?”
“No.”
“Do you work for the Global Community?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
“It showed okay, ma’am, but just out of curiosity, why the hesitation?”
“I have never really considered myself an employee of the Global Community. I serve Supreme Potentate Nicolae Carpathia, and I have most of my adult life. I would, even if I were not compensated, but yes, I also actually am part of the personnel of the Global Community.”
“Are you loyal to the supreme potentate?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever done anything that could be considered disloyal to the supreme potentate?”
“No.”
“Do you leak confidential information from the supreme potentate to anyone at GC headquarters?”
“No.”
“Is the supreme potentate risen from the dead and the living lord?”
“Yes.”
“Can His Excellency Nicolae Carpathia personally count on your continuing loyalty for as long as you serve as an employee of the Global Community?”
“Yes, and beyond.”
“Did you sit on his throne in his temple in Jerusalem today?”
“I—no.”
“Thank you, Ms. Ivins.”
Chang heard Akbar unbuckle and leave, but it was clear Viv Ivins immediately followed. “Director Akbar, wait, please. Before you share the results with His Excellency, let me have a word with him.”
“Certainly.”
“My lord,” she said quietly.
“Yes, dear one,” Carpathia said.
“May I kneel and kiss your hand?”
“That depends. How did you do on the little test?”
“I don’t know, but regardless of the results, I answered truthfully until the very end.”
“You were deceitful in your answer to my question?”
“I was, sir, but I immediately regretted it and have come to beg your forgiveness.”
If Carpathia responded, Chang couldn’t hear it.
“I told Reverend Fortunato what I intended to do,” she said, “and he advised me against it.”
“Did he? Did you, Leon?”
“I did, sir.”
“Good for you! But it should not be only the Most High Reverend Father of Carpathianism who knows what a defilement it would be to presume to sit on the throne of god!”
“I am so sorry, Nicolae,” and Chang got the impression she said his name the way she had when Carpathia was a small boy. Nicolae again fell silent.
“I did not do it as an act of insubordination, I swear. I merely envied your moment and felt a deep need to share it. I would like to think I earned the right with—”
“Earned the right? To sit on my throne? To take my place?”
“—with my years of service, with my uncompromising devotion, with my love for you. Oh, don’t dismiss me, Your Worship. Forgive me. Please! Nicolae!”
Chang heard her weeping. Then Nicolae: “Suhail, let us administer the test to each other.” Ms. Ivins’s crying faded as she must have moved back to her seat.
Akbar was brief and confident, and when it was Carpathia’s turn, of course the questions were slightly revised. But Carpathia was in a testy mood.
“State your name,” Akbar began.
“God.”
“Is today Sunday?”
“Yes.”
“Is the sky blue?”
“No.”
“Are you a male?”
“No.”
“Do you serve the Global Community?”
“No.”
“Are you loyal to the citizens under your authority?”
“No.”
“Have you ever done anything disloyal to the Global Community?”
“Yes.”
“Do you leak confidential information to someone
inside GC headquarters that undermines the effectiveness of your cabinet?”
“No. And I would personally kill anyone who did.”
“Did you rise from the dead and are you the living lord?”
“Yes.”
“Can the Global Community count on your continuing loyalty for as long as you serve as supreme potentate?”
“No.”
“You astound me, Excellency.”
“Well?”
“I don’t know how you do that.”
“Tell me!” Carpathia said.
“Your answers all proved truthful, even where you were obviously sporting with me and saying the opposite of the truth.”
“The truth is what I say it is, Suhail. I am the father of truth.”
CHAPTER 18
On the flight home, Buck called Lukas Miklos.
“I imagine you want to talk to the young man whose life you saved, eh, Cameron?”
“I do, Laslos. And I’m sorry all my other messages to you about what happened that night had to be texted. I wish I could have given you your wife’s message in person, but—”
“I understand, my friend,” Laslos said, his voice quavery. “I remember every detail of it. I wish only that I could have gone to heaven with her.”
“I can’t imagine how hard it is,” Buck said. “But the church needs you there, and—”
“Oh, Cameron, I am useless. I am not free to help in any real ways anymore. Sometimes I wish they would just find me so I could testify for God before they kill me.”
Buck wanted to counter him, but what could he say? “We sure appreciate your help in getting those kids out of the country.”
“I’ll do what I can. I look forward to getting them connected with your pilot, but it’s unlikely I can risk coming out of the shadows to meet him. I will get them as close to the airport as I dare. Here, let me have you talk to the boy.”
“Hello, sir?” Marcel said, and Buck remembered the voice from their only encounter.
“I’m so glad to talk to you again, son. I didn’t expect I ever would.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Williams. I know you got in trouble for that. Will I meet you in Chicago?”
“You sure will.”
“Mr. Miklos has told me so much about you and your family and friends. I hope I will be safe there.”
“Safer than where you are, I guess. And the girl?”
“Georgiana, um, Stavros,” Marcel said. “I was so surprised when I heard she had the same story as mine. We finally were introduced at a co-op center.”
“And you have been able to communicate with her?”
“It’s all set. We will meet her on the road. Mr. Miklos will stay with us for as far as he can.”
“That’s quite a journey on foot.”
“He has arranged for someone to drive us, at least until we are a couple of miles from the airport. Then the pilot, Mr. Sebastian, is it—?”
“Yes.”
“—will come find us and walk us in as prisoners.”
“We’ll be praying for you all.”
Chang listened to several minutes’ worth of small talk, then a pitiful effort by Viv Ivins to again reconnect with Nicolae and get his forgiveness. Finally Nicolae summoned Akbar. “Suhail,” he said, “I am not going to replace Mr. Moon as supreme commander.”
“I see.”
“The job and the title are redundant.”
“Whatever you say, Excellency.”
“I will count on you more and more, and you may inherit duties that might otherwise have been carried out by a supreme commander.”
“As you wish.”
“First assignment: Take action on our security leak.”
“I’m, we’re—sir, we are already conducting a full investigation at the palace, but as you know, we turned up nothing on the plane. . . .”
“How does that make sense? You told me it was as if someone were relaying our very conversations to someone with access to the central database.”
“That’s what it seemed. We are scouring headquarters for weaknesses in our fire walls, but the late Mr. Hassid put the system in place, and there was not a better person in the world for that job.”
“His replacement, the South American—”
“Mexican, sir. Figueroa.”
“You have confidence in him?”
“A stellar record. Not the technician Hassid was, but capable. He is overseeing the testing, and he himself will also be tested, of course.”
“I want to send a message to whoever is subverting us from inside. Get them to panic, put them on the defensive.”
“I’m open to any suggestion, Potentate.”
“Charge the Indians.”
“Sir?”
“The stewards. Convict them of treason.”
“Uh, on what evidence?”
“They are the only logical ones, Suhail. The pilot was not even on board during most of our meetings. They were.”
“But they tested clean.”
“Who knows that but you and I?”
“Um-hm.”
“No one, am I correct?”
“You are.”
“Whisper it to Leon. And to Viv. Then release it to the media. They should disembark in New Babylon in handcuffs. Do you have two pair on board?”
“I do, but—”
“A problem?”
“I’m at your service, sir, but I’m missing something. The mole will see we fingered the wrong perpetrators. Rather than put him or her on the defensive, it may make us look like soft opponents.”
“So much the better. Let him grow overconfident. Still, he will see what we do with people we believe are insurrectionists.”
“If convicted, the penalty is death.”
“Oh, Suhail! If they get off this plane in shackles, consider them convicted. The executions should follow within forty-eight hours.”
“Done.”
“And your conscience, Director?”
“My conscience?”
“Knowing the truth, does this give you pause?”
“No, sir. You are the father of truth. My conscience is at your service.”
There was a long pause. “They do good work, though, do they not?” Carpathia said at last. “The stewards?”
“Quite.”
“No need to inform them or cuff them until we touch down. But do get the information trail started. And then we need to discuss the final solution for the Israeli dissidents and the Judah-ites. Let me know as soon as you have casualty statistics on Operation Petra.”
Laslos wished he could go with the two young people all the way to the safe house in America. What an adventure! But how could he justify abandoning his brothers and sisters in Greece? The net was tightening and few of them would survive until the Glorious Appearing, but no one would question giving the teenagers a better chance.
Being involved in getting them connected with this pilot made Laslos feel alive again. He dreaded the end of the caper when his friend K would drive him back to Ptolemaïs. He would then walk the last mile and a half to his secret place and settle into his awful routine.
The plan was for K to pick up the boy and him in the country at the north edge of town. They would stay on the outskirts, getting Marcel close enough to the co-op to where he could walk there and get his meager bag of belongings. Georgiana Stavros would wait for them on the southern end of town, off the road that led to the airport. Cameron Williams and Marcel had told him she was a tall brunette, fair-skinned for a Greek, and pretty. Laslos liked to imagine that she looked like his wife when first he met her more than forty years before.
Chang noticed that Carpathia’s plane sounded as if it was descending when Suhail Akbar returned to talk with the potentate. “Ah, Director,” Nicolae began, “we are planning something very special for Petra when Ben-Judah is confirmed present, no?”
“Sir, we need to talk.”
“Answer my question, Suhail.”
“Yes, of co
urse, but I have bad news.”
“I do not want bad news! Everybody was healthy! We had plenty of equipment for the Petra offensive. You were going to ignore the city—waiting to destroy it when Micah and Ben-Judah were both there—and overtake those not yet inside. What could be bad news? What do we hear from them?”
“Nothing. Our—”
“Nonsense! They were to report as soon as they had overtaken the insurgents. The world was to marvel at our complete success without firing a shot, no casualties for us versus total destruction of those who oppose me. What happened?”
“We’re not sure yet.”
“You must have had two hundred commanding officers alone!”
“More than that.”
“And not a word from one of them?”
“Our stratospheric photo planes show our forces advancing to within feet of overrunning approximately five hundred thousand outside Petra.”
“A cloud of dust and the enemy, in essence, plowed under.”
“That was the plan, Excellency.”
“And what? The old men in robes and long beards fought back with hidden daggers?”
“Our planes waited until the dust cloud settled and now find no evidence of our troops.”
Carpathia laughed.
“I wish I were teasing you, Potentate. High-altitude photographs ten minutes after the offensive show the same crowd outside Petra, and yet—”
“None of our troops, yes, you said that. And our armaments? One of the largest conglomerations of firepower ever assembled, you told me, split into three divisions. Invincible, you said.”
“Disappeared.”
“Can those photographs be transmitted here?”
“They’re waiting in your office, sir. But people I trust verify what we’re going to see . . . or not see, I should say.”
Carpathia’s voice sounded constricted, as if he’d rather explode than speak. “I want the potentate of each of the world regions on his way to New Babylon within the hour. Any who are not en route sixty minutes from now will be replaced. See to that immediately, and when you determine when the one from the farthest distance will arrive, set a meeting for the senior cabinet and me with the ten of them for an hour later. And these Jews,” he said slowly, “we expect them all to be in Petra as soon as they can be transported there?”