Project J (6 page)

Chapter 10:
 
Confession

“Jesus!
 
You mean Jesus Christ!”

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh my God!”

“I told you he wouldn’t approve,” whispered Juliette to Fielding.
 
It might have been meant as joke, but no one laughed.

Stryker was shaking his head, and gasping, unable to speak.

Tamara leaned forward.
 
“Did the procedure work?”

“Of course.
 
Like I said, it was the same as we did with animals, only bigger.
 
Took a lot of computer power, I can tell you.
 
Lightning was running full speed for over three hours.”

“And he was... is alive?”

“Yes, of course.”
 
At least Fielding had the decency to look sheepish.

“Where is he?” Tamara continued.

“I had a couple offices turned into an apartment of sorts, here in this building.
 
He’s living there.”

Even Tamara ran out of words at that point.
 
This was just too big for their minds to accept.

“I suppose you will want to meet him,” Fielding offered.

“Jesus Christ...” muttered Stryker.

It was Tamara who began to grasp the implications before Stryker.
 
“Jesus was a first century Jew.
 
Wouldn’t there be a tremendous cultural shock bringing him into our time?”

“Of course,” Juliette answered.
 
“That’s why we’ve isolated him and hidden the whole project from others in the company.
 
To protect him.
 
We wanted to be able to talk with him, ask questions, find out facts.”
 
She leaned forward, her green eyes glowing.
 
“Think of it!
 
Here is the chance to learn so much about the most important point in history!
 
And the most important man in history!
 
Think about how much has been said and theorized about him and his time.
 
How many different interpretations of his life and actions there are.
 
How many unanswered questions.
 
Ask a thousand people who, in all of history, they would like to talk to and most will say Jesus of Nazareth.”
 
She was warming to her subject.

“We kept him isolated from virtually all knowledge of our society and the world today.
 
He does not know about TV, space travel, heart transplants, the world wars...”

“Or about the church he started?” Tamara interrupted.

“Most assuredly!”
 
Juliette was emphatic.
 
“Of course, he didn’t really start the church.
 
Others after him did.
 
But it would be a shock for him to know just how much his teachings have affected the world.”

“Then what does he know?”

“He knows that he has been brought forward to a different time and place from the world he knew.
 
It took a lot to convince him that we have the science to do that.
 
He still calls us ‘magicians’.
 
That’s the only way he could understand what happened to him.
 
At first, he thought...
 
Well, it’s complicated.
 
Once we healed him...”

“Wait a minute!” Tamara jumped in.
 
“Just exactly when in his life did you ‘fetch’ him?”

Juliette looked to Fielding before answering.
 
“We picked him up off the Cross.
 
Just before he died.”

“Oh my God!”
 
Stryker seemed to be having trouble breathing again.

“So you had a man who had been crucified and was near death?” Tamara asked.

“Yes.
 
We had a doctor and nurse ready.
 
We treated him for shock, wounds to his hands, lacerations on his back, a wound in his side, and other problems.
 
He was unconscious for a day and a half.
 
But now he’s fine.”

“Physically maybe,” Tamara said.
 
“But what about his mental state?”

“Well, it has been a shock,” Fielding told her, glancing to Juliette as he did.
 
The look expressed surprise that this stranger was understanding so quickly.
 
“But we expected that.
 
We brought in an expert on Biblical times and a speaker of Aramaic.
 
That’s Jesus’ native language, you know.
 
We had someone on hand when he awoke to ease him into a new life.”

Tamara was still concerned.
 
“I’m surprised the shock didn’t drive him crazy.
 
It’s hard to get your mind around how much change he had to cope with.
 
One moment he was hanging on the cross, in agony, dying; the next he’s in a world absolutely alien to his.”

“We feel he’s adapted reasonably well,” Juliette said.
 
“We’re slowly bringing him along, a bit at a time.”

“And have you been learning from him?” Tamara asked.
 
“Academically?
 
Getting the story straight for history’s sake?”
 
She was sounding sarcastic and tried to keep it out of her voice but failed.

“Oh, yes.
 
We’ve learned a lot,” Fielding told her.
 
“Myers has been with him every day.
 
Dr. Seymour Myers.
 
He has degrees in Biblical Studies, history, and archeology, speaks Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek.”

“And he’s Jewish, which helps,” Juliette added.

“I’m sure it would.
 
Keep everything kosher.”
 
Again, Tamara had trouble to keep from sounding sarcastic.

Before an argument could start, Fielding cut in.
 
“Look, there’s a lot to learn here.
 
We recorded every interview with Jesus, and most of the rest of the time he’s been here.
 
You can look over those recordings.
 
It would be the best way to understand what we’ve done.”
 
He turned to Stryker.
 
“Brian, I’m truly sorry to have hidden this from you.
 
But this is exactly what we made the Machine for.
 
To learn!
 
To find out the truth, no matter what it is.
 
I hope you understand.”

Stryker could only shake his head.
 
“You’ve got a lot to account for,” he muttered in admonishment.

Fielding would not let go of trying to make them understand.
 
“But don’t you agree: this is the greatest science experiment of all time!?
 
Our chance to answer so many questions.
 
We couldn’t ignore this opportunity!”

“We felt,” Juliette added, putting her hand on Fielding’s shoulder as she stood behind him, “that we would not be able to do this if we went through normal channels. Too many people would object.
 
Objections would pile on and others would want in and nothing would never get done.”

“You got that right,” Stryker told them.
 
Then he sighed deeply.
 
“I suppose we can’t just shove him back in time.
 
We’re stuck with him.
 
My God, do you have any idea of the legal hassles this brings up?
 
To say nothing of what the churches would say?”

“It is the Second Coming,” Fielding said with a smile.

“You promised you wouldn’t say that,” Juliette chided him.
 
But she could not stop herself grinning also.

Tamara leaned back in her chair, her mind a whirl of thoughts, and not a few emotions.

“Could we meet him?” she asked meekly.

Chapter 11:
 
Alarm

“If this is true, then we must act!”

The speaker was Cardinal Gaetano Milanesi; the place was an office in the Palace of the Governorate, Vatican City.
 
The Cardinal was one of three men gathered in an emergency meeting after the receipt of alarming news from an American bishop, and was the President of the Governorate, a man who reported only to his Holiness himself.

“Again, I must ask: are you certain of these facts?”

“They have been given to us by a man within that research project, one of the men who helped to build this time machine.”

The Cardinal shook his head.
 
“It is impossible to believe.
 
It cannot be true.”

“I assure you that we have checked out this man and the evidence he has given us.
 
Bishop White and one trusted man of this staff did the investigation.
 
He is convinced.
 
In addition to his statements, this man has provided photocopies of documents.
 
And there is the photo.”

Cardinal Milanesi picked up the iPad and gazed at the photo it displayed.
 
The quality was not excellent, because it was taken originally from a cell phone camera, but it was clear enough to see two men seated on patio chairs apparently in a courtyard somewhere.
 
One man was an older man of prominent Jewish features, graying hair and with a cane resting against his chair.
 
He was in side view.
 
The other man was smaller, of full beard and long hair trailing down to his shoulders.
 
He was facing the camera and looked as if he was speaking, his lips poised in mid-sentence.
 
One hand rested on his knee, a white gauze bandage showing at his wrist.

The Cardinal stared with intensity at that face.
 
It was sun darkened – a man who spent a lot of his time out of doors.
 
There were stress lines on that face, telling of hard times endured.

“Can this be real?” the Cardinal muttered, mostly to himself.
 
“This is...
 
What did you say?
 
An exact copy of Jesus?
 
A living, talking, breathing man who is exactly the same as the Christ?”

“Identical in every respect,” Bishop Carabelli said.
 
“Our informant says that this man even has the memories of Jesus.
 
He speaks Aramaic.
 
He knows things that only Jesus would know.”

“Have you identified the other man in the photo?”

“He is Doctor Seymour Myers, a highly respected Biblical historian and expert on Aramaic.
 
Also Hebrew and Greek.”

The Cardinal finally put down the tablet and turned to the window to his left.
 
The view was of part of the
Giardini Vaticani
with the Leonine Wall and Vatican Radio building, along with a corner of the Chapel of Santa Maria.
 
The sun was shining and it was a fine day in Rome.

“This may be a copy of Christ’s body,” he said slowly.
 
“I know enough of science to believe the Americans might have built a machine capable of what you described.
 
But,” he said, turning back to the other two for emphasis, “it has not the spirit of Jesus Christ.
 
That cannot be.”

“Of course, your Eminence,” the Bishop immediately confirmed.
 
“The real Son of God cannot be made by a machine.”

The third man, who had remained silent thus far, stirred in his chair and finally spoke.
 
“Of that there can be no doubt.
 
But...
 
Many people will look upon this and believe that it is He.”

“The faithful will not...”

“Your Eminence, it is not so much the faithful I am worried about.
 
It is the rest of the world.”
 
He paused to let his meaning sink in before continuing.
 
“If the Americans tell the world of this man and present him for the world to see, the impact on the Church would be immense.
 
What this false Christ may say frightens me, because people will take it as the real words of Christ.

“Even if they are wrong and this is not a true copy of Christ; even if this is a fake and a fraud, announcing it to the world would still be disaster for us.”

He looked up into the Cardinal’s eyes and said firmly, “We cannot allow this to happen.”

For the first time, Cardinal
Milanesi did not look perplexed or disbelieving.
 
He looked scared.