The Last Day (40 page)

“Pope or no pope, you're not getting mixed up with those religious kooks. They're just stirring up trouble. You keep your nose clean, son, and in your books where it belongs. With the run on the bank and me out of work, I'm afraid you're going to have to earn a scholarship like Shelley if you want to go to the university next fall.”

“How come you let Shelley join those fool Messianic Guardians of God?” the son complained, stubbornly. “They're the reason why the bank folded—all those idiots running around claiming it's the end of the world, scaring the heck out of everybody.”

Michelle Martin added a fresh pancake to the untouched pile in front of her son. “When you go off to college, Tommy, you'll be able to make more decisions on your own. But your dad's right, those Guardians of God people scare me, too. They're hateful. You stay away from them.”

Apparently the father did not consider this satisfactory rebuttal. “I don't like Shelley getting caught up with
that
damn cult, either, Michelle.” His large face was turning red and his blue eyes flashed like warning lights beneath his glasses. “I should never have let you two go to Salt Lake City. That's what got Shelley's head all turned around. And I know you've been encouraging her to attend those damn Messianic Guardian meetings at the college. I want it stopped, right now,
you hear?”
With that, he slammed his big fist on the table, upsetting young Tom's milk, which splashed across the front of the boy.

Michelle Martin was taken aback by her husband's uncharacteristic vehemence. Fretting, frowning and trying to come up with a conciliatory smile all at the same time, she leaned down and placed a tentative hand on the man's shoulder. “Honey, if only you'd been there at the airport with us. Seeing her in person was such a … religious experience.”

His anger was not abating. “You drive all night, hundreds of miles, stand around in the cold all day—just for a five-second glimpse of the girl! And then you act like you've seen God or something!”

“It
was
like seeing God!” Mrs. Martin exclaimed. “When Jeza walked past us at the fence, when she turned and stared right at us … Maybe it was only for a second, but when I looked into those eyes of hers, I tell you, Torn, it was like nothing I've ever experienced.”

“I should never have let either of you go.” The father was despondent. “That girl Jeza is turning everything upside down. She's cost me my job, and now she's costing me my family.”

Moving to clean up the spilled milk, anxious to ameliorate the situation, Mrs. Martin abruptly changed the subject. “Did you vote in the primary yesterday, sweetheart?”

Her husband gave her a look of wide-eyed incredulity, exaggerated all the more by the thickness of his glasses. “Vote? Vote? Who the hell cares about
that?”

Taking advantage of the disruption to slip away, the boy went upstairs to his room to change his wet clothes. Halting in front of his mirror and checking to ensure no one was following him, he peeled off his shirt, admiring a tender, solo tattoo recently stitched over his heart. It was of two femur bones shaped in a T, flanked by a sword and ax and bearing the golden Latin inscription, “Custodes Dei.”

77

Na-Juli apartments, Cairo, Egypt 7:00
A.M
. Thursday, March 9, 2000

F
eldman, dreaming an unpleasant dream, was awakened by an itching nose and the melody of a soft giggle. Above him, captured in a shaft of cascading morning light, was Anke. Lying across his bed, she was dangling her long dark hair playfully across his face, laughing mischievously.

“Welcome back to earth, dream cadet,” she teased and laughed again.

Feldman was overjoyed. “Anke! Where did you come from?”

“It's been so long since I've seen you,” she said, “I figured I'd play truant for a day!”

“I'm sorry,” he responded ruefully, rubbing his eyes, recognizing he hadn't spoken with her since leaving for the convocation.

“I'll forgive you,” she replied complaisantly,
“if you
tell me all about your visit to the White House.”

Feldman laughed and gathered her up in his arms. Without realizing it, the tensions and pressures of the last week had taken their toll on him. As always, his time with Anke restored him in a way nothing else could. They spent the rest of the morning together until a phone call forced Feldman back to reality. He had to leave her again and return to his offices for what would prove to be another exceedingly long day.

WNN, he was informed, had not found the Catholics as easy to negotiate with as the Mormons. The Vatican was positioning itself as a reluctant participant in this proposed meeting between Jeza and the pope, and was exercising complete and strict control of all orchestrations. The meeting would not be a closed-coverage operation. At the Church's insistence, the affair would be open to all media. But WNN still held out hope for a prominent presence.

The date of Sunday, March 19, twelve o'clock noon at the Vatican, had been agreed upon. Just as Jeza had assured Feldman it would be when he had deposited her at her clandestine desert drop-off the previous Monday evening. But the Vatican had insisted that the prophetess arrive approximately an hour early to accommodate an involved procedural schedule; it was also insisted that WNN arrange for the now-world-famous Alphonse Cardinal Litti to accompany Jeza and serve as her escort at the Papal Palace.

78

The Papal Palace, Vatican City, Rome, Italy 2:09
P.M
., Monday, March 13, 2000

A
s the pope entered the room, Cardinals di Concerci and Santorini rose behind a table covered with stacks of reference materials, notebooks and documents. They were in the pope's spacious, impressively decorated private library where Nicholas often met informally with his advisors and guests. For today's important presentation, the table and a number of large easels had been brought in and placed in front of the pontiff's elevated receiving throne.

The large double doors of the library were closed behind him as Nicholas waved the two cardinals to their seats and quickly ascended the steps to his chair. The pope was anxious about today's meeting. Anxious in general about his impending audience with the prophetess Jeza. He'd had more troubling dreams and second thoughts.

Di Concerci, as if sensing his pontiff's uncertainty, launched immediately into his introduction.

“Holiness, I'm pleased to inform you that we've concluded our investigations and the information we've uncovered far exceeds our expectations. As you will soon see, we now have everything necessary to implement a successful plan.”

The pope nodded his approval, withholding his enthusiasm. Di Concerci motioned for Cardinal Santorini to begin. Santorini stood, moved to the first easel, and unveiled an enlarged color photograph.

“This is the Leveque family, Pontiff,” di Concerci explained. “Jozef Leveque, his wife, Anne, and their daughter, Marie. This photograph was taken some ten years ago, when the young lady pictured here was in her early twenties.” The pope rose and walked down the steps to have a closer look. He placed his spectacles on his nose and peered intently at the picture.

Di Concerci continued. “Shortly after this picture was taken, the daughter, Marie, was involved in an unfortunate incident in which she became the innocent victim of a terrorist bombing in Jerusalem. She was gravely injured, and although she survived, she was rendered comatose and remains so to this day.”

The pope frowned as he examined the image of the smiling young woman. “Appalling,” he lamented. “Will there never be peace in the Holy Land? But I fail to see the association with the subject of today's meeting.”

As Nicholas turned away from the beaming young face, Cardinal di Concerci pointed back to it, refocusing the pope's attention.
“Papa,
look again at the photograph. Do you not notice something familiar about the young woman?”

Nicholas returned to the photograph, leaned forward and squinted more intently at the image. His eyes suddenly widened and he exclaimed, “Is this Jeza's sister? I see a resemblance!”

The prefect smiled. “Clone is perhaps the more correct explanation. This is the woman whose ova were utilized to create the genetic double the world knows as Jeza. Just as was presented in the televised program on Jeza's origins.”

“Amazing!” the pope whispered in wonderment, staring at the face. “But I'm confused. While this woman resembles the prophetess, the similarities are not that pronounced. They appear more familial than identical.”

“That is due, we understand, to the processes under which Jeza was gestated,” di Concerci explained.

The pope nodded his understanding and returned slowly to his throne in a thoughtful state.

“We have everything we need to expose the truth, Holiness,” di Concerci asserted. “A secret contact in the Israeli Defense Force has assisted us in providing full documentation. Also, we understand from WNN that Cardinal Litti has accepted our invitation to conduct Jeza to our welcoming ceremony.”

“Excellent.” Nicholas was feeling considerably better about developments. “Describe for me the entire plan as you have conceived it, Antonio.”

“Certainly, Holiness.” Di Concerci took his seat again at the table and gathered his notes in front of him, although never referring to them. He began.

“Cardinal Litti, Jon Feldman and the woman, Jeza, will arrive at the Vatican heliport at approximately eleven
A.M
., Sunday, March 19. They will be escorted on foot by Cardinal Santorini with a small contingent of the Swiss Guard and papal knights. They will travel through the gardens, enter and pass through the Sistine Chapel, view several of the cortiles and gallerias, and then onward across the square to the front of the basilica. They will then enter the basilica at approximately eleven forty-five and await your arrival. All this will be covered in its entirety by the various TV networks in attendance.

“During this walking tour, it will be Cardinal Santorini's objective to display to the woman some of the exquisite beauty and grandeur of the Vatican, and to imbue her with a sense of the historic, religious significance represented in the culture of the Church. We wish for her to appreciate fully the inspiration of the great works of art commissioned by the Church through the centuries for the honor and glory of God.

“As Jeza, Jon Feldman and Alphonse are escorted by Cardinal Santorini through the front doors of St. Peter's, the Julian choir will be in performance and the entire cathedral filled with all members of the papal court and representatives of all official religious orders.

“Jeza
must
be affected by the pageantry and majesty of the sacred cathedral. Obstinate though she may be, surely her heart cannot be so hardened that this great presentation of beauty and adoration will not move her. At such time as she has arrived at the tabernacle and been allowed to meditate over the sacred relics of Saints Peter and Paul, you will arrive, Holy Father.

“We will follow standard procedures for an official, ceremonial audience. Cardinal Santorini will be announced to you first. He will ascend the stairs, you will extend your hand to him and he will kneel and kiss the ring of Saint Peter.

“Next Alphonse will be presented to you, you will extend your ring, and Alphonse will, no doubt, also kneel to kiss the ring. And then at last, Jeza will be presented to you. You will extend your hand once more and, God willing, she will follow suit, kneel and kiss the ring as well.

“Now let me caution you here, Holiness.” The prefect held up a restraining hand. “When you look at Jeza, you will likely find her eyes quite unsettling. They are a most unnatural color—a vivid purplish blue—and they can have quite a vertiginous effect on the recipient at first. I suggest you remain seated and be prepared for a moment or two of discomfort. It will quickly pass.

“The significance of Jeza's participation in the kissing of the ring, of course, is to demonstrate to the entire world the supremacy of the papal throne, and Jeza's acknowledged subordination to you as dominant spiritual authority.”

“And what if she refuses?” Nicholas questioned.

“That will not divert us from our purposes,” di Concerci assured him. “If at any point in time she becomes difficult or confrontational, we will simply move to the next phase of our plan.

“Our objective will be to secure a retraction from Jeza concerning her position on the dismantling of organized religion, at least regarding Holy Mother Church. As it's unlikely we will be successful in that regard”—di Concerci paused to obtain an item from the table—”we'll then proceed, with the entire world watching as witness, to confront her with
this!”

The pope leaned forward in his throne with great interest.

A hard glint of confidence in his eyes, Antonio Cardinal di Concerci held up a large brown book.

“Holiness, this is the unaltered, personal diary of Mr. Jozef Leveque, the man responsible for the genesis of Jeza.” He paused to let this revelation settle.

“In this journal lies the
whole
story behind this strange Jeza and her mysterious powers. A tragic and, in many ways, a very moving story. A story of all-consuming love and obsession. Of a desperate, brilliant man, driven to reclaim that which only God has authority over: that which God had taken from him: the life of his only daughter.

“But most important”—di Concerci's face was burning with conviction—”this diary is a full disclosure of exactly
what
our purported little Messiah truly is. Here in this diary, Holiness, are untold shocking details that WNN conveniently omitted from their TV documentary. Details that will surely convince the world that Jeza cannot be a prophetess, nor a Messiah, nor the Sister of Jesus.

“Contrary to WNN's report Jeza's cognitive powers are not merely the result of some passive memory-building process. The explanation for her remarkable intelligence and abilities is entirely
inorganic.
Artificial and ungodly. Composed of fabricated silicon microchips surgically implanted deep within the hemispheres of her brain.