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
“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
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