The Light of Our Yesterdays

by Ken Hansen

  Blount nodded. “Figures. Chances are the container itself was hijacked before being loaded and was re-purposed without anyone knowing it. It looks like the plan was to remotely detonate the warheads when they hit port.”

  “Warheads. Plural. Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why both?” Huxley asked. “Each was big enough to devastate much of Manhattan, if not a good chunk of the whole city. Why waste two here?”

  “Apparently they really hate the Yankees,” Blount said sarcastically. “Hey, I don’t know, but you said there were no rockets, right? If they had no system to get them up in the air, that reduces the blast radius. Maybe they thought they needed both to do the job. Or maybe they were worried that one wouldn’t work and they wanted the other as a backup. Who the hell knows? But I do know we have both of them. Pakistan has also confirmed based on the pictures we sent them.”

  “You have someone dismantling them just to be sure?”

  “They are the right warheads, Huxley. We’ve confirmed that. But, yes, NNSA will have a full report in the next few days.”

  “Good. Can we keep the UNGARD protecting New York Harbor until then?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

  As Blount left, Huxley grinned. With both warheads recovered and pretty much confirmed, Sonatina would be safe as well. Maybe it was time to reconnect. A text to break the ice? He typed out: “Looks like crisis averted. When should we meet in the Maldives?” Could he do that without thinking of Hannah? Without thinking about his mother? He hit send.

  A text came back: “Why, Mr. Huxley, did you forget that I am a good Catholic girl?” Then a few seconds later, another text arrived. “So when do I pack?”

  He smiled. That should smooth it over a bit. He hit call. When she answered, he said, “Ciao, la mia piccola musa. Good to hear you safe and sound.”

  “Your little muse? What have I done now?”

  “I told you, crisis averted. Thanks for all of your help on this. I think you can return to Rome now.”

  “I never left.”

  “But Sonatina, I texted. You weren’t safe.”

  “I should be different than the rest of Rome?”

  “I’m not in love with the rest of Rome.”

  After a pregnant pause, she said, “What did you mean, crisis averted?”

  Huxley drew his lips in. Could he tell her now? They had the nukes, so it wouldn’t help Pardus if she were somehow connected. Pardus was probably dead, but he still had to track down Dracoratio. She was still sore over his lack of trust. Here’s a chance to change that. “We recovered the missing packages—not in Washington but near New York.”

  Sonatina did not hesitate, “That makes no sense. The poem led to Washington.”

  “It is complicated, but that poem was just a ruse.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why? We have the packages. They were headed to New York.”

  “Your government is in Washington. That must be the target.”

  “Half of our wealth is connected to Manhattan and the stock market. Can you imagine the dislocation? Remember that terrorists struck New York in 9/11.”

  “They also struck Washington.”

  Huxley felt the heat rising in him. He was tiring of this. Could she not let go? “Well, this time it was New York alone. There were only two packages.”

  “Are you sure? Have you descended to hell yet? That was in the poem.”

  Hell. Now she was dragging God and Satan back into the picture. “Yes, I am sure. I don’t plan to go to hell. I think Pardus is already there.”

  “Chris, I’m telling you something is not right. I…I had one of those dreams.”

  “Those dreams?”

  “Yes, did you have it, too? It was different, though. Like the world of the people in robes and our own world all mashed up. I was sitting on a hill in my simple outfit looking at a city below. A man in black hair and a beard laughed when the city blew up.”

  “It blew up?”

  “Si. Mushroom cloud and all. The man kept laughing, but then the man in the robes—”

  “The merchant?”

  “No, not you, the man in the white robes. Jesus. He came and touched me on the shoulder. As He did this, the city began to rebuild.”

  “Have you been to the city?”

  “No, but I know it.”

  “How?”

  “I’ve seen many images of it—of its beautiful capitol, its long mall split by a phallic symbol, its White House.”

  “Washington?”

  “Yes, that’s why I think you must be mistaken. It is Washington they are after. I am certain.”

  “Certain? It was a dream, Sonatina.”

  “Yes. You said you’ve had them. It is strange, but I know it is more than a normal dream. Just like your other dreams. Our other dreams. They are some kind of premonition. They are a warning from God. You must do something.”

  Huxley banged his hand on his forehead. “Pffft. Come on. Dreams? From God? Just because we share a few dreams? You got the idea from me. You are scared. Now you attribute them to God? You might as well say your Fairy Godmother told you. Not exactly actionable intelligence.”

  “Don’t be sacrilegious, Chris. I thought you believed. I thought you believed in Him again.”

  Huxley felt the twitch from that thing in his gut. He said lowly, “Look, I want to, but…”

  “You will get there, Chris. I know it. But trust me, now. You must focus on the District.”

  Huxley exhaled hard and shook his head. Why is she trying so hard? This is over. Then her words echoed in his mind. “Focus on the District.” Where had he heard that before? Pardus. Those were Pardus’s exact words to Anwari. Did I repeat that to her? No, he had never even told her about Anwari’s call with Pardus. Then why had she used the exact same words? A tingle slithered down his spine, and he began to sweat. Could there be another bomb? They want us to pull the UNGARD away from New York. Thank goodness I told Blount to keep it here.

  “Chris, you still there?”

  “Sure, just thinking. I probably should get going.”

  “OK. When are we going to the Maldives?”

  “I, uh…I don’t know. We’ll have to see. Gotta go.”

  “You OK? I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m fine. Thanks again for your help, Signorina. Addio.” He hung up.

  He stood there for a few minutes, trying to lose the foul taste of distrust from his mouth. It was a common phrase, wasn’t it—“focus.” So was “District.” Everyone called it that. Everyone from DC. He had never heard a foreigner call it that other than Pardus. You put the two together and it sounded like words she must have heard someone say before. Had she slipped? Then there was this whole God thing. Why was she pushing that so hard? Is she trying to weaken me? Trying to drive me back into my emotional abyss?

  He took a deep breath and looked at his phone. His old friend had called. Why not? He deserved that. He was a Goddamned hero—Blount had said it. He should celebrate, not wrap himself in Sonatina’s cold, wet, righteous blanket.

  When Kadir answered his call, Huxley said jovially, “Hello, Mr. Ambassador of Peace.”

  “Yeah, well, screw you, too.” They laughed. Kadir continued, “You in town? You ever coming over for drinks and a cruise on my yacht? I cannot promise you any wild women this time, but we can still have a few laughs over some scotch.”

  “Hell, why not? I could use a drink and a friend. How about tonight? I’ve got nothing going.”

  “Excellent. Come at 7pm, Slip C-10, Southwest Wharf.”

  “Great. See you then.” Huxley hung up and his stomach tightened. He closed his eyes and saw the image of his father hanging from the cables at that wharf so many years ago. You can do this. He smiled. For the first time in a long time, he actually believed it.

  Chapter 92

  Tomadus was eating alone at a small café in Jerusalem when Jochi strode by and stopped at his outdoor table, her arms stiff and
her expression tortured. The anger in her voice matched her gestures. “There you are. Why are you not eating with the Ten tonight? Isa has something important to tell us.”

  “He will forgive me.”

  “But will he forgive your betrayal?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “He told me about your ideas to put him to the test. He asked me not to confront you, but… Are you insane? Has your obsession with the other world scrambled your brains? Why are you doing this?”

  “He asked for it.”

  Jochi started slowly, but her momentum, tone and volume grew quickly. “He asked for it? Why? Has it something to do with me? He has done nothing but help me grasp the truth. Or are you still hung up about his refusal to rescue my brother from the authorities? Dear God in Heaven, Tomadus, it was not Isa’s fault. Would you have preferred to see him die next to Yohanan on the triangulum penetrans? He has done nothing to harm you and everything to help you. How can you do this to him?”

  Tomadus stared back and took a few breaths. When he spoke, he chose a low, measured voice, almost in monotone. “Do you think I’m evil? I love Isa. I want to help him—that is all. He wants this. Maybe he didn’t initiate it, but he agreed it was best. You don’t understand what is going on with the authorities. It is the only way to save him from the same fate, to save him for the world. We cannot afford to lose him. But you wouldn’t understand.”

  Jochi wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath, her lips pursing to prevent another round. Swallowing hard, she asked, “And why not?”

  The emotion welled up into Tomadus’s face, and he tried to squish every opening together to prevent it from coming out, but he failed. “Because you don’t know what happened in the other world,” he said.

  “You mean when they crucified Jesus?” she asked.

  Tomadus gasped. “You…you see the other world that well now?”

  “I am beginning to…to see too many things. The visions are coming so rapidly. But the other world is not just one. It splits in two. We must have faith, Tomadus. Isa has told me… But you are going the wrong way—do you not see where this will lead? You will become the new Judas. Can you not see that? You are betraying him!”

  “No, I am helping him. It doesn’t have to be the same. We will change the outcome. He doesn’t have to die!”

  “You have heard him, Tomadus. Have you not understood his words? They will put him to death. You have not the power to control events as you believe. He will die horribly, and you will be to blame. Do not do this, I beg of you. You may think you can destroy God, but that is impossible! He will be with you always.”

  Another tingle squirmed down his spine…Sonatina…but he could not let this allegation go. “Kill God? Are you insane, Jochi? Do you now believe Isa is God? What is wrong with you people? I want to save him, not kill him.” Tomadus threw a few coins on the table, stood up and began walking away, ignoring Jochi’s last few pleas to him.

  Heading toward his meeting with the First Consul, Tomadus looked down and sighed. Was he fooling himself about his own motives? Was this whole plan the result of his emotional backlash for Yohanan’s horrible death, or, worse, had some growing jealousy rotted his heart and mind? Was that why he was so willing to take such a horrendous risk with Isa’s life? He closed his eyes and shook his head. He loved Isa. He would die himself to save him. Tomadus felt a chill go down his spine as he recalled Jochi’s last words to him: “You think you can somehow save Isa, but it is He who must save you.”

  Chapter 93

  Entering the large visi-scan studio, Tomadus spotted First Consul Khansensius speaking with an assistant on the stage. The floodlights illuminated the set, indicating a broadcast was imminent. The stage in this visi-scan studio had obviously been designed to accommodate grand indoor spectacles where the sound could be controlled better than in the great outdoor amphitheaters and squares. A dozen or so rows of seats permitted a small audience to add to the ambience of any particular political production. Behind and above the seats, a large glass wall separated the sound stage from the sound booth, where several technologists worked, apparently double-checking various technical aspects of the upcoming production.

  As he approached, Tomadus saw the First Consul dismiss his assistant and waive Tomadus up to the stage. He obeyed this as well as the First Consul’s arm gesture indicating he should sit in the chair at the table opposite him. The First Consul flashed that calming smile at him. “Sorry for the odd meeting place, but it cannot be helped. I have to prepare for another broadcast presentation soon. Can I have my assistant get you anything?”

  “No, I’m fine. Gratias.”

  “Wonderful. Are you feeling well?”

  “Yes, why not?”

  “Good. Now, I have ensured that all of my assistants are tasked with other matters, so we can speak frankly.”

  Tomadus nodded slowly. “I think that is wise. Gratias.”

  “I try. Now, I would say your plan seems to be progressing nicely. Do you agree?”

  “Perhaps. Isa has agreed to it, but I have some doubts.”

  “As to?”

  “I am concerned about the impact of Isa’s broadcast speech. Did he say anything that might have offended the emperors? Do they fear he will try to usurp their power?”

  “No, no, not in the least. The emperors found it refreshing. But I must say that the Grand Imam and Abh Beyth Diyn still secretly challenge him. He must step up and demonstrate that he is no fraud. He must show he believes in himself.”

  Tomadus smirked. “Oh he believes in himself all right. He will not yield, I guarantee you of that.” Then he added sarcastically, “No more than God Himself would yield to the Abh Beyth Diyn and Grand Imams.”

  “Does he say he is God?”

  “No, of course not.” Tomadus’s eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think he has said he is God.” At least not that I would ever admit to you. “Please, First Consul, do not put words in my mouth.”

  “Oh, I am sorry. I just thought those words might be coming from him.”

  “No, not those words. I admit, though, that I still do not quite understand him.”

  “Were you with him at the so-called “Adin Miracle?”

  “Yes,” Tomadus said slowly. Where is he going with that?

  “I’ve been wondering how he did it.”

  “I do not know. He has traveled widely, you know. Some say it was a simple pharmaceutical trick, but I know otherwise. Adin swears he did nothing but eat the poison mushrooms, die and then be brought back by Isa. Adin would have told me otherwise. He is a simple man totally lacking guile. I myself felt Adin’s body as he lay on the table. He was dead, yet when the door to the mortuary opened not two minutes later, he was alive! How do you explain that? Perhaps it was a miracle.”

  “You don’t believe in God now, do you? I thought you were a good Romanus technologist.”

  Tomadus looked away. His honest response might scare the First Consul. Could he speak truth, even now? “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

  “You wish it?”

  “Well, I wish I could understand these, these…” Tomadus lowered his head.

  “These what?”

  Tomadus shook his head slightly, still looking down. He recalled Emperor Acamapichtli’s warning.

  The First Consul smiled. “You mean your visions?” When Tomadus looked up in shock, the First Consul continued, “Yes, I am aware of them. I think I can help you there. We shall find the answers together, Tomadus. You need not fear of that. Let us continue our work together, and you shall understand everything.”

  “You sound like him.”

  The First Consul grunted a laugh. “Patience, Tomadus.”

  “So what more can I do to complete the plan?”

  Just beneath his chin, the First Consul bounced the tips of his fingers off their opposites for a few seconds. Then he said easily, “Well, you could help us collect him tonight.”

  “Collect him?” asked Tomadus. “Why? C
an’t he just come himself?”

  “No, you know this cannot look like he is cooperating or else the Abh Beyth Diyn and the Grand Imam will never be convinced. Remember, Tomadus, this is a performance. We need to put on a show for them to believe.”

  “But why not collect him during the day?”

  “You know these crowds are unpredictable. Some of his opponents could see him arrested and think they had license to harm him. You do not want to see that happen, do you?”

  “No, of course not. Not a hair of him should be harmed. Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “In fact, we think you should be there throughout, to tell us your thoughts and help keep an eye on things. We may want to interview you on the visi-scan for the record.”

  Tomadus smiled and leaned forward. “Certainly, I can attest to his strong beliefs. Now remember, he must not be harmed. When he refuses to yield to their threats and questioning, you must have the leaders ready to proclaim him genuine and then release him.”

  “Of course, that has always been your plan, our plan, but you must be patient, Tomadus. You must let the process run its course until they are convinced. If we move too early, we will do more harm than good. You once asked me to trust you with the Letter of Transit, and I did. You must now return that trust. I will help you find your answers. It may get ugly at times, but that ugliness is what will save him in the end.”

  “Is that even possible?” Tomadus mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Sorry. Yes, I will be patient.”

  “Then we are agreed?”

  Tomadus nodded.

  Chapter 94

  The sun would not yet rise for several hours as the full moon lighted the group’s way. Tomadus led three of the Grand Imam’s guards to the garden where Isa had told him they would be praying. The guards came through the garden gate with their rap rifles held at the ready like they expected some kind of resistance from this tiny group of pacifists. Simeon, Atuf and Adin slept by a tree off to the right. About fifty feet away, Isa was kneeling with Jochi by his side. Isa appeared to be praying with his eyes shut. It looked like Jochi was also trying to pray, but her body trembled. She looked at Tomadus with tear-filled eyes and gasped. “No! Tomadus, no…”