The Last Day (30 page)

“You'll be relieved to hear Cissy's got things under control now.” Feldman brought the discussion back to the main topic. “She tried to call you, you know. To apologize.”

“She did?”

“If I were you, I'd talk with her tomorrow, over the phone first, and see if you can mend the fences a bit more.”

“Yeah. I'll do that Hey, you don't mind if I crash here tonight, do you?”

Feldman lapsed into an accommodating smile and started removing cushions from the sleeper sofa.

Back in his own bed, he lay awake as Hunter's snoring drifted into the room.

59

WNN regional headquarters, Cairo, Egypt 9:30
A.M
., Wednesday, February 16, 2000

T
here was good news at the morning staff meeting. WNN's latest report on Jeza's appearance at the university was a sensation, capturing record ratings.

And then, just as the meeting was about to break up, an excited cameraman from one of the field teams suddenly raced into the room. Breathlessly, he announced another Jeza encounter. Waving the prized video in the air, he explained that less than an hour ago he'd happened to catch the Messiah in a major engagement.

This latest development, by the sound of it, could prove to be one of the most amazing reports yet. If the advance billing was correct, at last WNN had caught on tape an apparent Jeza miracle. Possibly three miracles, the cameraman claimed, as they all hustled off to the viewing room.

By way of prefacing his video, the cameraman explained that he'd been stopped at a traffic light in one of the poorer sections of downtown Cairo. Sitting there, he'd noticed a little urchin with a rag in his hand bounding out into the street from across the intersection. The boy was heading for the cameraman's car, evidently to wash his windshield for a handout. Sadly, in his haste to nab his customer before another competitor, the boy had dashed in front of an oncoming bakery van and was struck.

Compounding the tragedy, the bakery's name appearing on the side of the truck happened to be that of a Sunni Muslim company. An unfortunate circumstance in that this accident occurred in a predominantly Shiite Muslim district igniting instant outrage. In moments, the vehicle had been completely surrounded and the luckless driver dragged from behind the wheel.

This was the point at which the alert videographer had swung his camera into action. The alarming scene materialized on the viewing room screen, waves of people appearing magically from nowhere, rallying to the cries of the onlookers and rushing to the scene of the accident. Watching the drama unfold, Feldman was certain the poor delivery man was about to be pummeled to death. But as the mob descended upon him, there was an abrupt division at the crowd's far end and the angry mob began separating and falling back.

The focus was off-center for a few moments as the cameraman scrambled on top of the roof of his car for a better view. A hole had formed in the middle of the action now, and the camera zoomed in to show a small woman standing boldly before the downed and bloody driver. It was Jeza, of course, but over the noise, it was difficult to hear what she was saying.

Recognizing who this was, the crowd began quieting. It sounded as if Jeza were talking in Arabic, and she was pointing to the forlorn man at her feet. She then gestured toward the front of the vehicle and barked a command. The crowd parted again to allow an anguished man with a small boy in his arms to pass through. It was apparently the father of the child who had been struck by the vehicle. The boy's extremities dangled loosely, his face was buried in the crook of his father's elbow, and it was impossible to tell how badly he was hurt, or if he were even alive.

Jeza called out to the father, and he squatted on his haunches in front of her, rocking to and fro, howling, still holding the limp child. Jeza raised her arms skyward and the sleeves of her robe cascaded to her shoulders, exposing the vivid whiteness of her limbs. She called out loudly, presumably in prayer, ending with the only word Feldman recognized, “Allah.”

Despite its unrestrained fury only moments ago, the crowd was now dead-still, with only the ambient sounds of the city audible. Jeza, also silent, lowered her arms to her sides and watched the child intently. So did everyone else. They didn't have long to wait. The legs stirred. The head moved. The man holding the boy relaxed his grip and revealed the child to the astounded audience. The boy's eyes were open, flitting around puzzled and scared.

A tumult overtook the crowd. “Allah! Allah! Allah!” they shouted and hands began moving out to touch the prophetess. But she halted them with both palms upraised, gestured down to the truck driver again, and motioned them back. Stooping, she took hold of the terrified man's wrist and helped him to his feet. She placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him, speaking with him momentarily, and then turned with him back toward his vehicle.

Guiding him by his shaking arm, she was given a wide berth as they made their way to the side of the truck. It was a panel van, and Jeza grasped the sliding door by its handle, throwing it open wide. She pulled the driver carefully out of the way, then made another brief announcement to the crowd.

The mob paused for a moment, looked at one another, and then started to burrow full bore into the truck in a feeding frenzy. Hundreds of men, women and children pillaged its goods hand over fist, grabbing as much as they could carry. One man waddled by the camera with hard rolls stuffed down the sleeves and front of his tunic and pants to the point his clothing was about to burst.

And then it suddenly occurred to Feldman that Jeza was missing. Even reviewing the tape again in slow motion, it was impossible to tell exactly when and what had happened to the Messiah. She was there, and then, quite implausibly, she vanished, leaving the deserted driver to gawk nervously as his bakery truck was greedily relieved of its freight.

But if rescuing the driver and restoring the boy were two miracles, then there was yet another to behold. As-toundingly, the procession of scavengers went on for the duration of the video, at least twenty more minutes until the camera ran out of tape. And still, the small van hadn't exhausted its cargo. Roll after roll, loaf after loaf, baskets of pastries, buns and all manner of baked goods flowed endlessly from its doors until it would appear that every last pocket, shirtfront, box, bucket and apron was sated.

“The only thing lacking,” Hunter pointed out, “are the fishes.”

While none of these three events could be conclusively demonstrated to be miracles, the new video nevertheless presented some very powerful and fascinating images. The temptation to promote this extraordinary material as the
Miracles Tape
proved commercially irresistible. No sooner did the first teaser promo air on WNN's midday news than the public went wild with anticipation. Major sponsors descended on the network in a feeding frenzy of another kind.

Working late into the night to ready the
Miracles
video for a news special the next day, one by one the WNN team members gave in to their fatigue and retired for the evening. But an enthralled, motivated, wide-awake Feldman continued to work well past midnight. In particular, there was one aspect of the new tape that had intrigued him all day, but he had been unable to devote any attention to it until now.

Alone in the darkened viewing bay, he played with the editing controls, trying to identify the precise moment when the Messiah seemed to suddenly vanish in plain sight Perhaps there was a fourth miracle here. Concentrating on the segment of tape taken just before Jeza disappeared, Feldman examined a wide shot in which the figure of the Messiah was continually in the frame, visible the entire time. She was conspicuously there, immersed in onlookers near the side of the truck, then suddenly she turned and seemed to simply evaporate.

He rewound the tape for the umpteenth time, magnified the image a bit more, zoomed in on the grainy image and worked patiently with the controls to enhance the resolution of the Messiah's immaculate face. Frame by frame he advanced the tape until the final moments when she looked directly into the camera, just before she turned and melted away. After some effort, he succeeded in making the image clearer than in any of his previous attempts. Now he could view her ennobled, divine features with a relative degree of clarity. Those bottomless, enervating eyes. Drawn into them, once again he was suddenly overcome with that disquieting, swooning, paralyzing sensation that he'd come to recognize so well.

As before, he regained his equilibrium quickly, amazed that a mere video image could affect him so profoundly. But suddenly the hairs rose on the back of his neck. His hands were trembling. The breath left him and he rotated slowly in his chair. There, silhouetted strikingly in the doorway, silent and motionless, stood the slender form and commanding presence of Jeza herself.

Feldman was transfixed. His heart and mind raced wildly. Back-lit before him, she had the aura of an apparition. Feldman could almost feel the waves of energy radiating from her.

“Come with me,” is all she said. And Feldman was up out of his chair, pursuing the quick-paced, earnest young lady as she quietly departed down the hall.

How she eluded the security system and night watchman on her way in, he was unable to fathom. She led him through the exit, down the steps and off into the deserted streets.

He questioned nothing, content to let her dictate the situation, following her closely for over an hour, out of the city, heading due west. Into the bordering desert they trekked, up a steep, winding path, which left Feldman panting, until finally at the top of a tall precipice, she stopped to face the first light of morning, dawning just now behind Cairo below them.

Jeza wasn't even breathing hard, and not a hint of perspiration. She turned to Feldman and, with a faint, appreciative smile, motioned him toward a large smooth stone. Once he'd settled, she sat cross-legged on a similar stone next to him and gazed out over the city in peaceful contemplation.

Feldman couldn't take his eyes from this extraordinary woman. He'd never before been so close to her. At this proximity, the first morning sunbeams catching her face, she was more resplendent than ever. He marveled again at her physical perfection. Not a single blemish, discoloration or wrinkle. Not one. Her features were all as finely chiseled as if by a master sculptor. Her complexion milk-white and lucent Her eyes as clear and deeply sapphire as the retreating night sky.

Gazing at Jeza now in the cool morning stillness, and recalling the bizarre circumstances of her unnatural incubation, he was moved to sympathy for this strange and isolated woman.

Still, she said nothing, and Feldman was determined to wait her out to avoid anything that might disturb this curious relationship. He watched her incisive eyes as they flitted across the Egyptian landscape, taking in the architectural extremes of ancient pyramids and contemporary skyscrapers. And he wondered what was going on in that alien, prefabricated mind of hers.

As if wishing to answer his curiosities, she at last turned to him and presented a sweet comforting smile. “I seek your help,” she said straightforwardly, her eyes invading him, although this time without the vertiginous side effects.

Her gaze was still unsettling. It affected him like a visual truth serum. As if any thought he might have she could instantly read. In the middle of trying to cope with that distraction, yet another odd awareness struck him. She never blinked! At least not that he'd detected. Her gaze was absolutely unfaltering.

He shook all of this off and tried to focus on her unanticipated question. “My help? Umm, certainly. Of course. How can I help you?”

She grew reflective. “It is nearly time for me to leave this place. I must travel far from here for a short while and carry on the Father's work in other lands. Will you assist me?”

Feldman was not sure what she was asking.

“Assist you? How?”

“In arranging transport and lodging and audiences with those I must see.”

“Where do you want to go, when do you want to go there, and with whom do you want to meet?”

“My first journey is to America. In two weeks. To address the assembled religions of the world by the great salt lake.”

Feldman had no idea what she was referring to. “Sure,” he promised, “I can do that, no problem!” He could hardly contain himself. Here was an opportunity for WNN to establish a direct relationship with the most famous, sought-after celebrity on earth. The benefits and the rating points were incalculable.

“I wish to speak with all the representatives of the world religions the last day of their assembly,” she added. “Also, I would ask you to witness and record these events.”

Feldman grinned wide. “Absolutely. I'll make all the arrangements right away. Now, how do I contact you? Where are you staying?’ He was trying to look casual, holding his breath, hoping she'd reveal her hiding place to him.

“I will meet you here at dawn, one week from today to hear of your plans.”

“But what if I should need to reach you in between?’ Feldman gave it one last try.

“I will not see you again until one week from today.” She stated this as a fact, not a decision. “Now I must go.”

“Very well,” Feldman agreed, and they both stood. He extended his hand to her and she took it. Hers was so small in his. So warm, so smooth.

So strong. Feldman tentatively tried to withdraw his hand, but was taken off-guard at her leverage. She held him fast Not threateningly, but to emphasize a point.

“You will return alone?’ she asked.

“Of course.”

She smiled her kind smile once more and released him.

Feldman began his trek down the hillside, fully expecting to find her gone when he turned for a last look. She was.

60

The Vatican Gardens, Rome, Italy 2:15
P.M
., Friday, February 18, 2000

A
pensive, lonely Alphonse Cardinal Litti sat at the edge of a carved stone bench in the Lourdes Grotto of the Vatican Gardens. At this precise moment, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith was meeting with Nicholas VI, presenting their formal
inquirendum.