Time for the eyes.
I look into them without fear or doubt. I see the twinkle and smile. I can’t see the evolved collection of cells waiting to collect light and transmit information. All I can see now is the twinkle, the spark of life that I didn’t put there myself.
The twinkle God put in there for me to remind me that He’s always with me.
Chapter Thirty-One
The crowd roars as I step through the door and drowns out the President who stops speaking and turns to face me as well. All cameras swing to focus on me. Every eye in the world is watching as I descend between two massive marble columns wearing a toga so I look like Caesar Augustus walking out to greet his people.
To me these plain ancient clothes have become symbol of my humility before Christ but now even that simple expression of faith has been twisted and used to meet the ends of man.
“Interesting outfit,” the President says as I approach the podium.
“What? This old thing?”
The crowd again roars in approval and the President retreats to a chair to my left.
The speech from Henry that I never read is on the monitor in front of me. It will go unread again. The storm that has raged inside of me for so long is calm. There’ll be no grandiose speech. I’ll speak straight from the heart with whatever words are given to me from above knowing that Henry will order me killed for it.
I take a deep breath.
“It’s hard to know what to say to the people of the world now that I’m back in my own time. I thank you all for the support I felt when I was back there. I felt you with me as I dug meter by meter to escape the cave. I felt you with me as I walked many kilometers in pursuit of my mission.”
I don’t know why but I adjust my hands so my thumbs are on top of the podium and my fingers are down the sides and start drumming my fingers lightly. I’ve stood at hundreds of podiums and never once held one like this but it feels perfectly natural.
“This isn’t generally known, but I think I can tell you now that many months ago some papers were found in a Christian gathering place. Those papers said it would send a powerful message if I were to die.”
The crowd gasps at the thought of their newest hero being killed by cultists.
“They were correct, there are few messages more powerful than death. When I was back in time I witnessed how the religious leaders of the day chose to use death to send a message to Jesus and his followers. And they didn’t choose just any form of death, they chose the slowest, most horrifying form of death they had at their disposal, death by crucifixion.”
A message from Henry comes onto my screen saying “What are you doing? Read the speech.”
I ignore him.
“I’m here to stand as witness to say they got their wish. I watched as spikes were pounded through his flesh. I saw the blood pour out of him. I heard the moans of pain and the gasps for each breath. I heard his last human breath and I helped take his body down from the cross. I pulled his cold flesh off of the nails. I saw the hole in his side from a Roman spear and his blood spilled on the ground. Let there be no doubt, Jesus Christ died on that cross!”
The crowd roars and out of the corner of my eye I see Henry give a proud nod of approval.
Just then a homemade banner is lifted at the back of the crowd to add a message to the banner saying “The World Thanks You.” It adds the words “FOR life.” I look at my four drumming fingers on the side of podium and then back up at the message. I remember Martha’s four fingers drumming and those of the woman who sat on the park bench. I stare at the banner for so long the silence gets awkward and the crowd starts to turn to see what I’m staring at.
“I get it,” I think aloud.
The crowd murmurs with confusion.
“I don’t know how I could be so blind. I just realized who the group ‘Four’ is.”
The crowd continues to murmur.
“They just use the number four as a representation of an idea. What it really means isn’t the number four it’s the word F-O-R.”
“But what does the word ‘F-O-R’ mean?” the President asks.
I turn to him and smile.
“It means ‘for god so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life’. It means that Four isn’t a pagan rival to Christianity, they are Christians. I suspect they’re the young Christians who are tired of hiding in the shadows,” I say, remembering Martha’s words.
And it means if I survive this I’m going to continue my hunt for Martha and tell her I love her.
I get a message on the screen from Henry saying “Good work, now squash them all at once.”
The crowd gasps as a small number four appears in the lower corner of the live feed. I nailed it and now the whole world knows.
There are thousands of people here and I wish I had a pin to drop because I bet I’d hear it hit. I glance at Henry and even he’s motionless, waiting to hear what I say next.
My voice softens and slows to a measured pace.
“Today is the culmination of generations of hard work aimed at ending all religion. You all know the big events like the Final Holy War and the Sunspot reactors that helped doom religion but it was actually all the little things that really made destroying religion possible. It was ending prayer in schools, it was redefining marriage and closing businesses that refused to compromise their beliefs. Once those little things were done tearing crosses off church steeples and memorials was a simple matter, as simple as hammering nails through one man’s wrists and feet.”
I pause.
“But just like the ancient Pharisees, we missed something. There was one cross they couldn’t tear down and now we’ve failed to tear it down too.”
The smile starts to disappear from Henry’s face as I raise my arms wide into a cross and hold them there, as strong and sure as wooden beams.
“Here’s the cross you’ll never tear down, the cross that lives in our hearts. I stand here as His living cross and declare The Cult Hunter is dead. I am now and will forever be a Christian.”
To my dismay, the crowd roars its approval.
Are these just the chaff that’ll go whichever way the wind is currently blowing? Or do some of them actually believe and have been waiting for this day?
“It all happened as He wanted it to happen. I was there at His will to be His witness. I was muted so I would finally listen and then my voice was healed by Christ so I could deliver this message. I saw Christ alive in Galilee. I saw the scars on his hands and side. Christ died for your sins and rose from the dead just as it was told in the Bible.”
My Aunt Jennifer is shaking and her lips are mouthing “No, no, no, no,” over and over again.
I start to sing the words of the song I now know not as “The Cult Hunter” song but as “He’ll find you”:
Why are you hiding, you children of the light?
Will you come out and praise the Son now he has heard your cries?
He’ll find you, He’ll find you, once your heart is right,
Come hear His truth and read His word and seek his perfect light.
I lower my voice as I approach the end of the song so I can hear how the crowd is responding. It’s barely perceptible, but it’s there. It’s like hundreds or maybe thousands of people in the crowd are humming along with me under their breath, just low enough so the person next to them can’t point a finger at them.
“Join me. Be the crosses that can’t be torn down.”
Hundreds of arms, scattered here and there in the crowd start to move upward to join mine. They’re tentative at first, afraid of who might be watching.
They look like dolls suddenly coming to life, suddenly having that spark ignited in their eyes.
When Henry finally snaps out of his trance I expect a bullet to the head but instead the microphone goes off and I’m swarmed by security. Out of fear the arms in the crowd begin to drop but mine stay wide even as
the guards use them to pick me up and carry me away.
***
“What am I going to do with you now?” Henry asks. “I can’t have you killed and create a martyr.”
After I was pulled from the stage I was moved under high security to the nearest tube station and have spent the last few hours in a moving tube car. Other than that I have no idea where I am or where I’m going.
“If you have some lions handy you could throw me to them.”
“Maybe you’re insane. Maybe I should send you for evaluation and treatment.”
A statement like that should warrant looking directly at me but Henry refuses to meet my gaze.
“You know I’m not crazy Henry.”
“The hell I don’t. Why else would someone throw away their life like that? You were the greatest asset the corps ever had in fighting cults. You had best-selling books, money and fame. Jocie threw herself at your feet. You had everything.”
“I had nothing, Henry. Nothing whatsoever. I was like an empty shell you find on the beach, beautiful on the outside but dead on the inside.”
“You could have saved the world!”
I’ve never seen Henry so upset. I’ve sent his Atheistic world view spinning out of control.
“I did save the world. I testified to the truth and the truth will set them free.”
“Free will is one of your God’s many stupid ideas. What has freedom ever gotten mankind? Freedom to hate? Freedom to kill each other and start holy wars?”
“Freedom to choose.”
“To choose what?”
“Life of course. Don’t you remember what the Christians said, that it would send a powerful message if DRCP were to die? They weren’t talking about my physical death. They were talking about my conversion to Christianity. I’ve died to my old life in this world and chosen a new life.”
“You have gone crazy.”
“I’m thinking more clearly than ever before. Can’t you see the course humanity is on? We’re dying a slow death from apathy. If this is the only life we have, then we no longer have a reason to live it. The only significant scientific breakthroughs in a generation have been stronger drugs and devices for heightened sex. Without Him we’re lost and going nowhere.”
“I can’t accept that. We can create our own paradise. We just need to find new ways to inspire and motivate ourselves.”
“I’m here as witness to say that we can’t. He knows we’re falling apart. He knows we need Him. He’s reaching out to us and we need His guidance.”
“If God really wanted to reach out He would have let technology travel through time so you’d have video of it all. Why would He send proof in the form of just your word? Why Cephas?”
“Why? You think I have the answer to the question ‘Why?’” I reply. “Christ Himself, who’s known God since the beginning of time hung on a cross and still asked the question ‘why’.”
Henry finally looks me in the eyes and I’m overjoyed to see that I’m reaching him. There’s still a spark in there. Then, like someone blew out a candle his eyes go dark again. I’d like to think that Satan himself was drawing Henry back, but that’s not it. God did this. Just like He hardened Pharaoh’s heart against Moses. This too is part of His plan and there’s nothing I can do but trust.
Henry paces back and forth.
“No. I won’t do it. I won’t turn my back on generations of our work.”
“Your work? Hardly. Everything in the Atheist playbook is stolen from one religion or another. You even stole the Christian song I just sang and changed the words.”
“Control the songs that children sing and you’ll control their thought processes into adulthood,” Henry replies.
An agent enters the room. “You may want to look at the news feeds, sir.”
“Now what?”
Henry turns on a large screen.
The screen is split into many sections. I see the Great Wall of China, the pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Sunspot One reactor, the Golden Gate Bridge and many other images representing man’s great accomplishments. Standing in front of each is a single person with their arms spread wide in the form of a cross.
“What are they doing?” Henry asks.
“They’re telling you that you can’t take away their crosses either. But they’re also putting the mark of faith in front of the works of man. They’re letting you know that God’s hand was present in all of our accomplishments.”
One section has words scrolling up it, probably hacked onto the broadcast by Four.
“If my word isn’t enough, then how about His Word?” I ask.
The verse on the screen is from Jeremiah, I read it aloud to Henry.
"‘For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'”
“You’re done choosing man’s future, Henry.”
“Maybe not. But I still control your future and you’re not going to like it.”
***
They lock me in a room, where I see my backpack and staff are still sitting in the corner. When I search it I find the first aid kit is there but the blood soaked bandage is no longer inside. They also took the small knife so I have no weapons.
There’s a screen with a news feed showing people worldwide holding protests. Some are singing with their arms spread wide and they’re all asking questions, the most prominent of which is “Where is Cephas?”
I wish I knew the answer to that question myself. I’ve been in a moving tube car for almost five hours now. I could have crossed the continent twice or I could have been going in circles all this time. I have no way of knowing.
Use your gifts and find yourself Cephas.
I check my com and although it’s still active my ability to contact anyone is blocked and of course my top secret clearance has been revoked. My com can still interface with the main public computer though.
“Connect to the Department of Transportation,” I instruct the com and I find I still have basic public access.
“Display a map showing all tube cars in North America that are currently in motion.”
The map is so covered with dots along the tube lines that it looks like blood moving through a body, you can’t distinguish one from another.
“Now eliminate all the cars that are shorter than twenty meters in length.”
The number of dots is reduced to just a few thousand. These are the large V.I.P. cars like the one I’m on.
“Have any of these cars been in continuous motion for the last four hours?”
Down to just six cars. I’m on one of them.
“Have any of these cars been assigned security priority?”
“You do not have proper clearance for that information,” the pleasant voice says.
“Damn it. How do I find the right car?”
You’re talking too much again. Try listening.
I close my eyes and listen. It’s just the usual monotone, there are no cues whatsoever.
I open my eyes. Of course. There are none of the usual tone changes indicating cars getting close and sharing the slipstream.
“Show just the cars that have maintained a minimum distance of one-hundred meters from all other cars for the last three hours.”
Five dots disappear. The remaining dot is outside Ottawa, Canada heading west. If I’m correct, in under an hour I’ll be at the NASA base in Michigan where I trained for the Travelers Initiative.
Stop the car.
“Computer, what’s the emergency procedure if a tube car depressurizes while in transit?”
“In the event of depressurization, all cars on the line will automatically stop while a diagnostic is completed. If the pressure can’t be restored then all cars will proceed at a safe rate until the depressurized car reaches the next available station.”
“Are there emergency exits from the tube that passengers can use to escape if the car can no longer move?”
“No. Passengers in a non-functioning car must remain in the car until service robots pull the car to the next available station.”
“Trying to leave us so soon?” Henry asks as he enters the room. “Don’t bother trying to depressurize the car. You could hit these windows all day and they wouldn’t break and even if you could open a door you’d be killed in the process.”
“I thought that was your plan anyway.”
“Not quite yet. There’s still the matter of your final press conference. Though, perhaps in your case it should be called a confession. First a panel of medical experts will announce that time travel causes a temporary psychosis and then you’ll confirm it and recant everything as a delusion and say that you witnessed the disciples stealing Christ’s dead body. You’ll also offer the bloody bandage as proof.”
“Christians will see right through it as coerced. They won’t believe a word.”
“It’s no longer your job to convince the fish heads. Your job is to convince the vast number of people who no longer know what to believe. Your stunt has them all teetering on the edge and I need you to get them back to their regularly scheduled, pointless little lives.”
I thought Henry’s religion centered on faith in man. He’ll even betray his own faith to hang onto power.
“I’ve seen the truth Henry. What are you going to do when I refuse? Threaten to kill me?”
“Why would I bother? I can see you’re so far gone your own life doesn’t mean enough to you anymore. It’ll take something far more precious in order to persuade you.”
He uses his com to change the screen to a private live feed featuring Martha tied to a chair.
“I’ll offer you her life.”
Please Lord, no.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Martha’s staring at the floor. Her face is bruised and her hands and feet are both in shackles.
“Martha? Are you okay?”
She makes no move to raise her head or acknowledge me.
“What have you done to her?”
“We needed information that she didn’t want to give us. You of all people should understand that torture is often required to get what you need. Some people are never quite the same afterwards.”
I want to choke him but my focus on Martha allows me to maintain control over my emotions.
I don’t know what information Henry got, but if he still thinks I tortured Christians then she didn’t tell him the truth about how I broke the final code.