by Ken Hansen
“Okay, I get it. Yes, I’ll make it happen if you help and don’t hold back. Our meeting before was no coincidence, was it? Had you been following me for Pardus?”
“Yes. I am not the only one he has misled. My role was to ensure you were as well.”
“What do you mean?” Huxley asked.
“He created the clues in the cell phone you discovered at Ramat David. He wanted to divert your attention away from his real objectives. He wanted you to believe that the clues came from some traitor in his organization. My role was to ensure you figured them out. He had heard you like scavenger hunts, so he gave you one, but this hunt leads you not toward the truth but away from it.”
“And where is he leading me?”
Anwari stared at Huxley for a few seconds. “Washington, DC.”
Huxley grinned and nodded. “Can you help me with this poem?” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the latest verse.
“I have no details on that clue. Sorry. But I am sure it must point to Washington.”
“So if Washington is the ruse, what is the real objective?”
“I can’t be sure, but I heard him accidentally call it the Apple.”
Huxley’s eyes grew big. “As in Big Apple? New York City?”
“I assume so. That is all I heard. Pardus is not much of a free talker.”
“We need to know for sure.”
“I might be able to help you with that. Put a wire on my phone. I’ll call him. But it must be in Kabul.”
“Do you know where the nukes are being kept?”
Anwari shook his head. “You think Pardus would trust me with that when I do not even know his real name?”
“Were you involved in stealing them?”
“Does it matter?”
“Only if you might have a clue about where they went.”
Anwari looked across the dessert for a full five count. “Nothing I can say would help you there. I was not involved in removing them from Pakistan.”
“Then I guess we need to call your friend.”
Chapter 82
It had been a longer trip than planned, but Tomadus had stayed in Roma just long enough to complete the broadcast deal after Isa consented by communication pod. Isa would speak in Muhammad Square in Jerusalem—the same square where Yohanan had been put to death. Isa would speak to the crowd assembled and the visi-scan would cover the speech live to the world. Tomadus’s excitement kept him going through the long nights of negotiations until the broadcasters finally agreed, though he knew their change of heart more likely came from the back-room workings of the First Consul.
When an exhausted Tomadus arrived in Jerusalem, a somber Peregrine greeted him in the aeroportus, speaking above the loud engines of the aeronaves taking off and landing. “Welcome, Tomadus, it is a great comfort to see you again in these troubled times.”
“It is good to see you as well,” responded Tomadus. “Where is Isa? We have much to discuss.”
“He, Simeon, Atuf and Diego traveled to Medina a few days ago. They return today, though they are too late.”
“Too late? Too late for what?” He saw Peregrine’s lips tremble and eyes glaze over. He grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “Peregrine, what has happened?”
Peregrine paused and took a deep breath, swallowing hard to hold in the tears. “Adin died yesterday.”
“No!” Tomadus yelled and turned his head away, biting his lip. A few seconds later, he exhaled hard, looked up at Peregrine and asked quietly, “How?”
“He wandered into a field near our encampment to pick some flowers for Maryam and Jochi. Apparently, he found a stretch of mushrooms and decided to pick them for dinner. He ate a few in the field and collapsed. They were poisonous. They found him clutching the flowers and mushrooms he had picked. Even in death, he was smiling.”
Tomadus swallowed hard, closed his eyes and saw Adin stumbling through the pots and pans while taking care not to squash the precious insect with a “torch in his butt.” This simple, gentle man had been so sweet, so insightful, and so loyal to both Isa and Maryam. Then another image from the back alley in Parisius briefly fluttered through Tomadus’s mind, and he shook his head to dispel it.
An hour later, Tomadus arrived at the camp of the Way members just outside a hilltop town a couple milia passuum west of Jerusalem proper. He found Jochi and Maryam dressed in black robes, their faces covered with black veils. Wailing loudly, Jochi ran up to Tomadus and threw herself into his arms.
Tomadus held her tightly to his chest. “He was a wonderful man. We will miss him greatly.”
“If only Isa had been here. He would have saved him.”
“But I thought he was found dead in the field.”
“Oh, these physic-techs in Palestine are so primitive. They did nothing to try to revive him. If only we had been in Roma!”
Behind him, he heard Maryam shout, “Isa! You have come, finally!”
When Jochi turned and saw Isa standing with Simeon, Atuf and Diego, she pushed away from Tomadus and ran to Isa. Maryam followed her, and Isa’s arms swallowed them both. Isa comforted them gently for a few minutes until Jochi’s face appeared away from his robes. “Isa, why did you go to Medina? You could have saved him if you had stayed! But even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”
Isa said quietly, “Adin will arise.”
“Yes, on the last day as you have told us,” Jochi said through her tears.
“I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this, Jochi?”
“Yes, oh yes, for I know you are blessed by the Father.”
Isa touched her shoulders. “Where have they laid him?”
“In the mortuary in the little town on the hill. The funeral will be tomorrow.”
The group walked up to the mortuary. Tomadus joined them, and a woman greeted them at the door. She noticed the crowds gathering behind Isa and asked what he wanted. He said, “We wish to see our friend Adin.”
“But you must wait for the funeral. The mortician has already begun preparations.” She gestured toward a door near the back.
“Please, show me the body now,” said Isa, perturbed.
“You cannot. Nobody can disturb the dead during preparation!” she proclaimed. Nevertheless, Isa simply walked past her and a few from the crowd followed.
He opened the door without knocking and walked in. The mortician was standing by a table with a scalpel in his hand, leaning over Adin’s massive, limp, pale body, preparing to cut.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion? It is unholy.”
“The Father determines what is holy, not man,” Isa said firmly. “Please let me do His work.” The mortician seemed humbled by Isa’s words and stepped aside.
Tomadus moved closer and felt Adin’s wrist and neck. Although the coldness of Adin’s flesh disturbed him, he held on long enough to search for a pulse that did not register. He stepped back and shook his head at Isa and then looked down.
“Tomadus,” Isa said, “you must have the faith of your friend’s sister, for then you will see the glory of God. Please leave me to do His will.” Reluctantly, Tomadus and the mortician stepped outside and shut the door behind them.
When the door opened a few minutes later, Isa walked out of the room and toward the crowd with a soft smile on his face. He paused a moment, turned back toward the door and commanded loudly, “Adin, come out!”
Adin moved into the doorway. Adin’s skin remained sallow, his eyes nearly shut, but there he stood, a bit shaky but alive. Cries and gasps filled the air. The mortician let his scalpel fall out of his hands as he collapsed to the floor.
Tomadus shook his head back and forth, his heart racing. How could this be? Tomadus’s mind flew over recent events and eventually remembered that little black and white dog, so much like Huxley’s dog, eating his bread in a Parisian alley. It had led him to the strange scene he
had witnessed while the dog licked his face. “Back to life,” Isa had promised to Adin as he handed him the package—and Isa had delivered. Happy to have his gentle friend back, Tomadus grinned at Adin and held back a hearty laugh. He turned to Isa and said with a smile, “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” But the First Consul’s words echoed in his brain, “They must not think him a fraud.” Is he a fraud? Should I continue to help him? Tomadus winced and rubbed his belly as the creature began gouging the insides of his gut.
Chapter 83
“You must believe in him now, Tomadus,” Jochi said in a low tone. “The whole world must believe.”
The two were sitting together alone by a small fire near the women’s tents, which lay about a hundred feet from the roaring campfire where most of the Ten now celebrated Adin’s miraculous return surrounded by a growing crowd of believers. He could hear an oud playing and men and women singing joyfully.
Tomadus breathed deeply, feeling the smoky air swirl through his nostrils. He turned and smiled weakly at Jochi. “Well, it makes for a good show and an even better party, though I would prefer to have some vinum to cherish the moment.”
“You call it a show? It is a miracle.”
“You really believe in all of these miracles?”
“You do not?” Jochi’s eyes looked like they would punch Tomadus if they could. “There is no other explanation. You told me you checked Adin’s pulse and felt his cold skin. He was dead. He had been dead for over a day. Not even the best physic-tech in the world could have brought him back. Isa asked, and God answered. There is no other explanation.”
“Perhaps,” replied Tomadus. “Or maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
Tomadus looked her right in the eye. “Maybe there is another explanation.”
“Like what?”
“I saw Isa speaking quite secretively with Adin in Parisius. He told Adin something about bringing him back to life so others would know who Isa was. Then he gave Adin a package.”
Jochi said, “So, Isa has the power of foresight. So what?”
“I think the package contained a very powerful drug that might have simulated death in Adin. I think the very loyal Adin reluctantly took the drug at Isa’s request. It is lucky we got to him before the mortician began emptying his bodily fluids.”
“You are insane! What kind of drug does that?”
“I don’t know, but Isa seems to have a way of finding these things. He is quite widely traveled, you know. He could have come across it anywhere. But the big thing is that I know Isa is doing his best to mimic another holy man from the other world. I do not blame him. He is brilliant, and his attempt to follow this path will accomplish much in our own world, so I help him. He is very good at what he does. He almost had me with that Adin thing, but I know too much of the other world now to fall for these tricks.”
“Tricks?” She shook her head a few times. “You are mistaken. Do not utter this opinion to anyone unless you have absolute proof.”
“Of course not. Do you think me mad? Oh yes, you already called me insane.”
Jochi slumped in her chair, a dejected expression taking over her face. “I do not believe that, Tomadus. In fact, I am beginning to wonder about my own sanity.”
“Your own? What has happened?”
“A light, followed by some visions,” Jochi said.
“The Light of Our Yesterdays—like Peregrine and me!”
“I don’t know about that. They are strange visions I do not yet understand.” Jochi looked down. “Tell me more about this other world you see. You mentioned Huxley and Sonatina.”
Tomadus leaned forward. “It’s hard for me to describe. While it’s completely different, it is somehow similar. I feel like in this other world I am chasing some kind of evil, yet I am not sure of the truth or even what is good and what is evil.”
“You? You are chasing? Is this more than a dream or a vision?”
“It feels like it. I always see this other world through the eyes of Huxley, who seems bent on trying to find a man they call Pardus, the Leopard. Hey, are you OK?”
Jochi’s face had changed to the same ashen expression he had seen when Adin first appeared at the mortician’s door. “Yes, I…I’ll be fine. Go on,” she said haltingly.
“Look, in this other world, I am just an investigator trying to find this Leopard, Pardus, a shaitaanist bent on killing millions of innocents. But it isn’t like I am a hero or anything. It feels like a bad dream—like the whole thing is nothing more than a jumbled game my brain has invented to turn me in circles. I’m sorry if I cannot explain it further. Does any of this make sense?”
“A little bit. This Sonatina you mentioned—what does she do?”
“She runs an art museum that is part of a huge church.”
Jochi gasped. “I…I’m sorry…I…”
“What? What have you seen of this other world? Are you Sonatina?”
“I…I…I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it. Not until… Sorry.” She buried her head in her hands and began to shake.
Tomadus kneeled in front of her folding chair, placing his arms around her shoulders and stroking her hair. “No, I am the one who is sorry,” he said softly. “Look, this thing almost tore me apart when it first happened. Don’t let it confuse you. You must separate it from your life here—see it as a story instead of just a part of you. It is the only way to cope. You will be all right. I’ll help you through it.”
Her shaking stopped. She wiped her eyes and raised her head as she caressed his arms. “So it isn’t real?” She swallowed hard. “These are just visions? What happens there won’t ever happen to us here? Will it affect us here?”
“I wish I had the answers,” he replied. “What have you seen?”
“I…I can’t say.” He hugged her more tightly to his chest.
After awhile, he heard steps behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Adin lumbering over. Maybe it was just the light of the fire, but Adin’s complexion was off. Nevertheless, he still wore that typical, goofy, loveable Adin smile.
“Hi Tomadus!” Adin said. “Are you coming over to join the party? Jochi, are you OK? You look sad.”
“I will be fine, Adin,” she responded, wiping her tears as she and Tomadus separated. “I am just so happy you are alive again.”
“Me too!” beamed Adin.
Tomadus seized the moment. “Adin, it is so good to see you well again.” When Adin just continued smiling, Tomadus added, “Tell me, do you remember anything about what happened before you died?”
“Not much.”
“Well, tell me what you do remember.”
“Okay,” said Adin. “Let’s see. I remember feeling sick. I was going to puke. Then everything was spinning and then went dark, except this one bright light.”
“What happened with the light?” Jochi asked.
Adin’s eyes lit up. “It was strange. I kept walking toward it, but it was rocky and slippery under my feet and I couldn’t seem to get anywhere. I fell down and started crawling on my hands and knees, but the rocks under me were crumbling, and I got nowhere. I almost gave up, but then I heard a voice say to me, ‘Your faith is strong, Adin, but you must return to the living. I still have plans for you.’ I woke up and Isa was standing over me and smiling. I love Isa.”
“Did Isa tell you how he brought you back?” Tomadus asked.
“You know that, Tomadus. He asked the Father, and the Father answered him like he always does.”
“Yes, Adin, I understand. But I am wondering, was there anything Isa did in front of you that looked like he helped it out? Did he have a vial or syringe in his hand or anything?”
Adin shook his head slowly several times. “He just had his hands stretched out above me.”
“I see,” replied Tomadus. “Now, this is very important, Adin. Can you search your memory to the time just before you started feeling sick?”
“Sure.”
“Did you eat or drink anything strange?”
<
br /> “Yes, the mushrooms. They tasted funny. Maryam said I can’t eat those anymore.”
“Did you eat or drink anything Isa gave you just before you got sick?”
“No. I don’t think he gave me anything to eat or drink. Why?”
“You don’t remember him giving you something—back in Parisius?
Adin closed his lips tightly and looked down, shaking his head rapidly. “I’m…I’m not supposed to say anything about that now.”
“It’s okay, Adin, Isa trusts me,” said Tomadus, feeling the creature somersault wildly over such an exaggeration.
“Well…I guess he does trust you. Okay, Tomadus.” Adin pulled a silver chain from out of his tunic and over his neck and head. Sliding on the chain was a simple silver pendant in the form of an inverted triangle. “He gave me this and said I could show this to the others before the resurrection to give them faith. It would forever be a sign of God’s love for the world.”
“Before your resurrection? Did you show it to anyone before he brought you back to life?”
Adin giggled. “No, Tomadus, before Isa’s resurrection.”
Tomadus dropped his jaw as he looked at Jochi. She smiled and nodded. “Let’s get back to the party,” she said. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Tomadus said. For a long time, he sat and stared at the stars in the sky, his mind turning over again and again everything that had happened since he had met the preacher from Palestine. Occasionally, an image of Adin’s silver triangular pendant would flash in his brain, and each time he would see the image in Huxley’s hands of his mother’s silver crucifix as Adin’s words echoed in his ears: “Isa’s resurrection.” Tomadus was no longer sure what he believed, but it didn’t seem to matter. Either way, Isa must make the speech. He must convince them.
Chapter 84
Huxley wiped the comingled dust and sweat off his brow as he and Anwari drove up the long dirt road back to Kabul. Washington, DC—how does the first stanza of Pardus’s little poem point there? If he could figure that out, he could confirm Anwari’s story to his boss. Deputy Under Secretary Blount was a career guy—an old SES officer who would get the intelligence nuances and explain it to his political boss, the Under Secretary. Still, that would not be enough. The Secretary would need to be in on such a major shift of critical equipment. Hell, the President would need to approve the switch. He focused on the last three lines of the first stanza: