The Dallas show looks like all the others. There’s an overly enhanced host named Kent who introduces me as the “New Cult Hunter” then replays some of the events involving ‘Four’. There isn’t a mention of Jocie anywhere. The announcement of the time travel project has made her yesterday’s news.
“Professor, you’ll be happy to know that I’ve instructed our technical people to open up our usual security to see if we can get a big number four plastered across our screen today. I’m sure you’d love to talk to them and get inside their heads.”
“I think the whole world would like to get inside their heads Kent. We really know nothing about them.”
“As we wait to see if the Four shows up, let’s talk about this morning’s announcement of the time travel project. Some are already saying that this will bring the world together in ways we haven’t seen since Sunspot Three came online. As a religious historian, what are your thoughts?”
“As a religious historian I can say with certainty that mankind has never had a single belief system. The Sunspot Initiative brought us close to the common belief that man alone controls our destiny and perhaps the ‘Travelers Initiative’ as I call it will put us over that edge.”
“So here’s the question that’s on many people’s minds today. If you were picked, would you go?”
“I don’t know how anyone could turn down that sort of adventure. But this is a project to obtain photographic evidence, I’m sure they’ll want a top cinematographer and some technical people. Do they really need a historian?”
“Perhaps not, but what’s needed is someone the world trusts to tell the truth and right now you fit that bill.”
He didn’t come up with that on his own. He’s just part of the act.
“I guess I do have a reputation for calling things as I see them.”
“I guess our friends from the ‘Four movement’ don’t want to hack us today,” Kent says. “When you were hacked in L.A. they confirmed they’re a religious organization but left before you could find out anything else. When the Travelers Initiative is concluded and we have proof Christ didn’t rise from the dead, do you think that will be the end of such organizations?”
“It seems like that outcome would mean the end of Christians, but it’s hard to tell what it will do to other belief systems. A bright student of mine suggested to me that man seems to want to believe in something, the great hope of the Travelers Initiative is that man will finally believe solely in man.”
***
The time off in Colorado is welcome even though we know it’s only temporary. Jocie has been out of the news and Janet has gone back to D.C. to prepare for the next announcement, though I’m still surrounded by a corps security detail at all times.
Martha and I have been inseparable since returning from Dallas. When neither of us are in class we spend our time going for walks and just talking and laughing about the world in which we live. She even lets me treat her to many meals and knows there are no expectations on her other than companionship. I test her from time to time by inserting Christian ideas into our conversations and she’s gotten bolder about agreeing with them.
Unlike Jocie, Martha and I stare into each other’s eyes often. It’s like there’s an entire herd of elephants in the room that we can’t talk about so we’re each trying to pull the information from the other with our eyes.
Today we get away for a walk in a set of rock formations known as “The Garden of the Gods.” Somehow it managed to escape renaming one-hundred and fifty years ago when religious symbols were being torn down nationwide. We chose it because there are many places where we can climb on rocks in full sight of the corps agents but be far enough away that we can speak privately.
“I’ve been wondering about something,” she says when we reach our perch on the ancient red rocks.
It’s a cool fall day so I put my arm around her to keep her warm.
“What’s that?”
“What did you say to Jocie that made her leave the stage in Minneapolis? You’ve never told anyone.”
“She hates to have anyone look her in the eyes. So I told her I can see inside her mind and there is no beauty.”
“So she doesn’t have a deep, dark secret you’ve uncovered?”
“Actually, I nailed it on the head. By all accounts she’s the definition of physical beauty but I think she’s empty inside and she knows it.”
“I think the whole world is feeling empty on the inside,” she says. “We try to fill ourselves up with enhancements, or sex or drugs but none of it works for long.”
I turn her cheek towards me and stare into her eyes.
“I hope you’re not looking for my deep, dark secrets,” she says. “I’d like to keep them to myself.”
I smile.
Too late.
“I think perhaps I’m having thoughts more dangerous than your secrets.”
“Are you sure? You don’t know my secrets.”
“I’m sure. I’m thinking that if I prove there is no God and man is all there is, then it would also have to be true that you and I have no souls. I don’t want this to be all there is. I think I’m falling in love with you and if that happens I want to love you forever.”
That wasn’t another test to see if she’s a Christian and you know it Cephas.
“Those are dangerous thoughts. They sound almost religious.”
“Don’t tell Janet.”
“Maybe I’ll tell Janet so you’ll get kicked out of the project.”
I wouldn’t have thought it possible but she somehow intensifies her gaze into my eyes. She leans forward and I think she’s going to kiss me but she doesn’t.
The part of me that grew up in this world of public sex yearns to kiss her again but there’s now a growing part of me urging caution. You’d think that second part of me would be worried about falling in love with my own assassin but that isn’t it at all. Instead that second part is telling me to court her.
Court her? That’s a notion that ended two centuries ago. Atheists don’t court. Atheists rip off each other’s clothing wherever and whenever they feel like it.
I break our gaze and look over her face.
“You haven’t been enhanced at all have you?” I ask.
“Not even once. My parents wouldn’t allow it. You haven’t either have you?”
“Just once,” I say. “It was done when I was a baby so it was more of a correction than an enhancement. My vocal cords were deformed so they did a surgery so the world could hear my golden voice. There are two small chips just under the skin in my neck. They went inactive after I hit puberty but there was never a reason to take them out.”
“I take it your parents didn’t allow enhancements either?” she asks.
“My parents were killed in an accident when I was eight. My aunt who raised me told me I had an allergic reaction to the vocal chips and couldn’t risk any more. By the time I figured out she was stretching the truth I didn’t care about getting enhanced. Actually, it made me feel sort of unique to not follow the crowd.”
“You’ll never follow the crowd, Cephas. Deep down you’re one of the few who’ll follow his heart.”
She’s ready.
***
As we climb off the rocks the security detail moves around us in unison, they don’t even try to blend in anymore. A private hover bus is waiting at the end of the path. Sometimes I enjoy the high class treatment, sometimes I think I’ve been bought.
Martha rides all the way back to my house with me. She’s a regular fixture there and the corps people let her come and go without comment. I even instructed the security system to recognize her com and unlock the door for her.
“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she says after she closes the door.
“Me too, let me go first,” I say. “I don’t have much family, just my aging aunt and I need someone to watch over my house and look after my affairs while I’m gone.”
“I’d be h
appy to do that.”
“Good, I’ve already given you full access to everything. Now what did you want to ask me?”
“Well, it’s pretty small compared to time travel, but I’m curious. You gave me the full extra credit for the essay I wrote but there were no comments on it. What did you think about it?”
“I’m glad you asked. Your arguments were similar to a much older essay I’ve read many times.”
She gets a curious look on her face.
“Come upstairs, I’d like to show it to you.”
We go upstairs and she starts to head into my office but I pull down the old folding stairs into the attic. If the corps has bugged my house they probably didn’t bother with the attic. I go to an ancient footlocker then reach up and retrieve the key which is hidden in the rafters above it. Once I’ve turned the key in the lock, I hesitate.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I have my own deep, dark secrets. Opening this box is beyond saying that I love you. If I open this box I’m literally placing my life into your hands.”
“And you’ve realized you’re not ready to do that?”
“That’s just it, I am ready. It feels like everything else I’ve done in my life is a lie and this simple step is the truth I’ve been waiting a lifetime to tell someone.”
I open a box and take out an ancient book.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asks in a whisper.
“Yes, it’s a paper copy of the Christian Bible.”
“Isn’t it illegal?”
“That’s right. It was banned decades before we were born as subversive and dangerous to the greater public good. Not even The Cult Hunter is allowed to have this.”
Martha’s eyes go wide when she connects the dots in her head.
“This is how you did it. This is how you broke the final Christian code.”
“Very good. One day I saw the word “book” written in ancient Hebrew and it hit me. I realized that simply reading ancient languages was no longer enough because the code had some sort of context to it. I knew that breaking the code would require me to read and understand the Bible. I asked for special permission to obtain a copy but instead of seeing the logic in my request I was suspended for a week and interrogated just for asking. When the week was up I convinced the assistant director that the request was due to extreme stress and asked for a month off to travel and relax.”
“My first stop was my hometown. I’d read a little of a dusty old Bible that had been long forgotten in the basement of the town historical society when I was a kid. It was still there so I stole it. Then I traveled to Europe and Asia and visited every old Christian site I could find. According to the biographers you’ve read I was in Europe torturing Christians but my real mission was to find old Bibles. In the end I obtained Bibles in every ancient language I know. When I returned from my travels I locked myself in my office for a month and secretly absorbed the word of God.
“Are you saying you’re a Christian? You can’t be a Christian. You’re The Cult Hunter.”
“I don’t know what I am anymore. I read the words in multiple languages and found what I needed to crack the code. Sometimes it seemed like the more I read the further I got from understanding what the words were trying to tell me. But other times, well, at other times it felt more like the words were calling to me.”
It’s done. Now I can talk openly with her.
She stands unexpectedly.
“I have to go. This is too much to process. I just have to go.”
I catch her hand.
“Not yet. I have something for you.”
I dig around in the box until I find a very small copy with an orange cover called a Gideon’s Bible.
“Here, take this one with you, it’s easy enough to put in your pocket. I want you to read the book called Ecclesiastes. Your essay reminded me very much of the lessons written in that book.”
She receives the small book like she’s afraid to touch it.
“I can’t accept this. This is a gift that can’t be found or bought at any price.”
So is my freedom, and you’re going to give it to me.
She takes the small Bible but virtually runs from my house. This isn’t the sort of reaction I expected. I’d hoped to be welcomed home by a fellow Christian, not have her run from me in terror.
I’ve missed something. What is it?
***
Martha has ridden to class with me in the bureau car all week so I find that I’m lonely as I ride to teach my last class. For years I sought to be alone with my thoughts but today I want nothing more than to hear her voice. I gave her everything she needs to call off killing me and instead take me away to a new life. Running from my house makes no sense.
Without Janet around I’ve switched my class introduction back to the low key standard. The University relented to Henry and has made my classes open for public viewing, though only registered students can participate in the discussions. I suspect the decision involved a large pile of money from an anonymous donor. When I step onto the stage I’m disappointed to see that Martha’s not in her usual spot in the front row.
There are about seventy-thousand people viewing the class live though the number of total views will be in the hundreds of thousands as people watch the replay. The University took the annoying step of allowing guest viewers to submit sex offers so there are now tens of thousands of them. Everyone knows they’ll all be deleted but it’s become popular to say you were turned down by the same guy who rejected Jocie.
“Good afternoon everyone. As you all know, tomorrow is a pretty special day in the history of religion. Tomorrow is the day we find out who’ll be traveling back in time to gather proof that Jesus Christ wasn’t the son of God. The government is very tight lipped about the identities of the travelers but media speculation has been rampant. Even my name has been thrown about as a candidate. So let me ask you all, if I’m chosen should I go?”
My podium lights up with dozens of responses. I choose Mary in Wisconsin.
“Mary, you share your name with the mother of Christ so how could I not choose you?”
“You should go.”
“Why?”
“You’ve seen the ads and documentaries that have been in the news since the announcement, this is for the good of all mankind. Religion led to hatred and hatred led to wars. Mankind needs to finish growing up and leave those things behind.”
She sounds like she’s reading from a government script.
“Okay then, why me?”
Mary doesn’t have an answer but Mr. Taylor in the studio does.
“Because you are the cult hunting man. This would be like your final and ultimate mission!”
“Anyone else?”
I see a familiar hand raise up in the middle of the audience. It’s Martha, sitting next to one of the girls who joined the class when she did. I call on her.
“You should go because we trust you. Or at least I do.”
“Facts are facts Martha. What does it matter who shoots the video and brings it back to show the world?”
“Are you so sure Professor that ‘facts are facts’? May I show the class something?”
I give her control of the big screens. She didn’t warn me about this and I’m curious to see what she’s up to. She puts two nearly identical pictures of me and Jocie from San Francisco onto the screen. It’s one where Jocie is rubbing herself all over me. There’s giggling in the room and Mr. Taylor says “Oh yeah, baby.”
“The first picture is Professor Paulson as you saw him in the media,” Martha says. “His face has been altered to look like he’s lusting for Jocie. The second picture is the raw photo where it appears he’s disgusted by her. Here are more.”
How’d she get the raw photos?
Next she puts up a series of pictures from after the party where I’m catching a drunk Jocie as she almost falls. The sixth picture in the series is circled. In it I appear to be groping Jocie.
“The circled picture is the one that appeared in the media, not the whole story,” Martha explains.
“Are you suggesting Martha that I should be one of the time travelers because I have the integrity to tell the world the whole story, no matter the consequences?”
“As far as I can tell Cephas, when you have something to say nobody can shut you up.”
Martha’s statement sparks laughter in the audience but her eyes are watering up as she says it.
The podium flashes with a message from Janet “That girl is pure gold.” Janet may have left Colorado but she’s still watching me.
A young woman named Hope Dubois in the live audience indicates she has a question. She’s never asked a question before, so I call on her. When her face comes up on the big screens she blushes and looks uncomfortable.
“Professor, what if they’re wrong?”
“I don’t understand the question. Who are ‘they’ and what are ‘they’ wrong about?”
“Well, everyone. Everyone seems sure there’ll be proof that Jesus is a fraud. What if they’re wrong? What if he really is the son of God? What if you see him die and then resurrected?”
“What if I were to come back with a video showing Christ dying, resurrected and ascending into heaven? I guess all I can say is that it would change everything.”
“But would you tell the story?”
Janet doesn’t bother with a text, her face appears on my podium screen, “Shut that girl off.”
I pause to think. I can’t just ignore the question. I have to say something.
“Well Hope, according to Martha I’m not an easy person to shut up,” is all I can come up with on the spot and the class laughs.
I switch the topic by asking the students what other points in history would be interesting to go back and visit. Martha usually hangs around after class but today I watch her slip out of class with the crowd. By the time I’m done answering all the after class questions she’s slipped back into the room. I notice a rose in her hand as she approaches me.
“Trying to send me a message Martha?”
She doesn’t respond except to smile then leaves.
I go straight to the bathroom after class and find that two rose petals have writing on them. The message says “corps following Hope.”
Chapter Sixteen