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The Christ Clone Trilogy 03 - Acts Of God

By

James Beau Seigneur

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Epic of Eight Millennia

Saturday, September 19,4 N.A. — Petra

As his family listened quietly, Michael Feingold, like thousands of other fathers and mothers in Petra, read the words of the prophet Hosea to his family:

Then I will go back to my place until they admit their guilt. And they will seek my face; in their misery they will earnestly seek me.

Come, let us return to the LORD. He has torn us to pieces but he will heal us; he has injured us but he will bind up our wounds. After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will restore us, that we may live in his presence. Let us acknowledge the LORD; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he mil come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.

In accordance with the instruction of their High Priest, the people of Petra cloistered together in their family tents and sought forgiveness as they recalled their individual and collective rebellion against God. They recalled their animosity to others, their vanities and chasing after things of this world, their selfish acts, their lack of trust in their God.

They remembered too, the many false messiahs throughout the centuries that their people had followed: BarKochba, who when he briefly recaptured Jerusalem from the Romans in about 130 A.D. was proclaimed Messiah by Rabbi Akiba, but who shortly thereafter was captured and put to death; Moses of Crete, who promised the Jews of Crete he would part the sea and lead them back to Israel on dry land, but after failing to perform the promised miracle, quietly slipped into obscurity; Abraham ben Samuel Abulqfia, who in 1284 proclaimed himself Messiah but whose prophecy of a Messianic Age which was to begin in 1290 died with him; Shabbetai Zevi, whose thousands of followers in the Middle East, Asia, Europe, and British Isles so ardently believed him to be the Messiah that his initials were inscribed in gold above the Torah shrines in synagogues and new prayer books were printed with his name appearing in place of the Messiah, but who, when challenged by the Sultan in Constantinople to prove he was Messiah by turning away arrows fired at him, chose instead to convert to Islam; the lesser false messiahs Asher Lemlein, Abu-Issa, Serenus; and in the 1980s and 90s, Menachem Mendel Schneerson, some of whose followers continued for years after his death to insist that he would rise from the dead and establish his Messianic kingdom. All in all, Samuel Newberg's assessment had been correct. Many of the people of Petra had only been waiting for the word from their High Priest before accepting Yeshua, Jesus, as their Messiah. Others, upon hearing the High Priest's words and reasoning and reading from the prophets wondered only how they had so long missed what now seemed so obvious.

5:41 p.m. — AbuZanlmah, Egypt

Some had come more than 1500 miles. They flew endlessly it seemed, toward the northwest, in numberless flocks over the great continent of Africa. Stopping here to rest for the night on the eastern bank of the Gulf of Suez before continuing on in the morning, the birds scavenged for whatever they could find to eat. Soon there would be food enough, but they would not reach it if they could not maintain their strength for the journey.

6:51 a.m., Sunday, September 20, 4 N.A. — The Sier Mountains

From his sentry's position atop Gebol Haroun, on the Sier Mountains above Petra, Dennis Kreimeyer watched in amazement as the vanguard of the U.N. forces swept toward him from the east and west like two slow-moving storms. Peering through binoculars revealed only that the storms stretched on to the horizon and seemed to have no end.

For two days the people of Petra had confessed their sins. Now as their destruction bore down upon them, the High Priest of Israel issued a decree that all prayer should become a call for deliverance from the enemies gathering at their door.

By noon, Mount Sier and Petra within it had become an island, surrounded by the sea of their adversaries. And yet still the tide that had engulfed them stretched on forever in the direction of Israel in the west and the Euphrates in the east. There seemed no end to those who came to destroy them.

12:05 p.m. — Babylon

Joel Felsberg and Ed Blocher had not slept in fifty-two hours. So far, adrenalin and concern for those trapped in Babylon had kept them going but even that was beginning to fail them. They did not know how many trips they had made in and out of the city during that time; both had lost count somewhere in the middle of the first night. They could loosely estimate it based on the number of city gates — they had used them all twice so far, though never in the same eight-hour shift, and had started on their third cycle — but such a calculation was beyond them in their current state of exhaustion. Whatever the number, it seemed there were always more waiting to leave, and so Felsberg and Blocher continued to come back. This time, though, the truck was only about half fiill and there seemed to be no one else.

"What now?" asked Blocher.

"Let's give it a few more minutes," Felsberg answered. But as the minutes passed, no one else came.

"I guess that's it," Felsberg said finally, and as he did he noticed that the faint wisps of clouds overhead appeared to have noticeably darkened.

Looking up, Blocher nodded and responded, "That's definitely it!"

"Everybody hang on!" Felsberg said, as he reached to pull the door shut. In the few seconds it took to lock the back and for the two men to reach the front seat, a cool wind began to blow against their faces and the sky had begun to turn gray. As Felsberg started the engine, lightning struck a nearby building and thunder like a cannon blast shook the truck. "Okay," he said, looking up, "we're gone!"

But as he pulled his door closed, Blocher saw someone in the mirror. "Wait!" he shouted.

"Please, let me in!" a voice called to them. It was a teenaged girl. "Please," she cried again as she ran to the driver's side of the truck. Felsberg looked out, and the girl threw back her hair away from her forehead and held up the back of her right hand so he could see she did not have the mark.

"Are there any others?" he asked.

"No," she said and then changed her response to, "I don't know," as another bolt of lightning struck, this time a little farther away.

"Get in the other side!" he said, concluding there was no time to open up the back. He did not wait for her to get settled in or for Ed Blocher to close the door before throwing the truck into gear and pulling away; already lightning had struck twice more and fire rose from the first building that had been hit.

Blocher looked at the girl and thought about getting out the city gate. "It will be interesting to see this vanishing act up close," he said.

The fact that the truck was empty going in and appeared empty going out gave the security guards no reason to suspect they were doing anything illegal. But to keep questions to a minimum, they had been careful not to use the same gate too often. With darkness closing in there was no time to think about such things. They had to get out of the city fast and so they simply headed for the closest exit. Even so, by the time they approached the city gate, it had become as dark as late evening.

"Joel," Ed Blocher said, watching the girl beside him as they sped toward the gate, "I don't think she's going to disappear."

"It doesn't matter," Felsberg responded, as he pressed the accelerator closer to the floor. "We're not stopping anyway."

"Good idea," Blocher said under his breath as they barreled through the gate. Apparently the environmental cataclysm, which included numerous lightning strikes nearby, was sufficient to distract the guards because no one fired a shot or even tried to stop them.

Having cleared the city walls, Joel Felsberg floored the gas pedal and accelerated to 110 miles per hour down the straight flat road leading east from the city. In the back of the truck, the passengers held on as best they could and wondered what was going on outside.

Six minutes and eleven miles later the day had turned black as the darkest night, with the repeated bolts of lightning creating a strobe effect all around them. The wind whipped at the truck as Joel struggled to keep it on the road. The rumbling of thunder was a constant drumbeat, with new claps coming one after another. Then one of the beats did not die away. Instead the sound grew quickly and steadily louder.

"This is it!" Felsberg shouted as he took his foot off the gas and hit the brakes, slowing the truck as quickly as he could. They had nearly stopped when the earth beneath them began to roll like a wave and then finally buckled, throwing the truck off the road and onto its side. Inside the truck, the passengers were tossed violently about, resulting in numerous abrasions and bruises, several cracked ribs, two concussions, and a dozen broken bones.

But it was not over yet.

The ground continued to shake until it seemed the truck would be torn apart. Even a thousand miles away, the quake was beyond the instrumentation's capability to measure, but estimates put it at as high as 10.5 on the logarithmic Richter scale, or more than 100 times stronger than the 8.1 quake which devastated Mexico City in 1985. Clearly the battle for the planet earth was about to reach its peak.

Inside Babylon, at the epicenter of the massive quake, buildings crumbled into enormous burning heaps, ignited by lightning and fueled by natural gas pipelines. The city's magnificent perimeter walls became an insurmountable mountain of rubble sealing all avenues of escape. Along the dry bed of the Euphrates, the earth split open like an over-ripe fruit, leaving a gaping chasm a hundred yards wide and many times that deep. A second crack, running eastward from the first, passed directly through the U.N. complex and swallowed whole the ruins of the United Nations Secretariat and General Assembly buildings.

The chasms divided the city into three huge blazing sections consumed by raging fire.

The quake's circle of destruction stretched for more than 2000 miles — from St. Petersburg to Somalia, from Nepal to Barcelona — collapsing buildings and devastating whole cities and crushing most of their populations. But the Babylonian quake was only the forerunner of death as it triggered major shifts of the African and Eurasian tectonic plates, causing a chain reaction which shook the Indian-Australian and Pacific plates as well. Thousands of islands in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans along the borders of the plates were shaken like a child's rattle, turning most signs of civilization to wreckage and creating massive tsunami to wash away what was left. The loss of life was in the hundreds of thousands, and millions more were injured.

Hundreds of miles from Babylon, along the route to Petra, the quake shook Christopher's armies, knocking many off their feet, but few were hurt. Primarily this was due to the fact that they were out in the open where there were no structures to fall on them (the cause of most quake injuries), but most credited their good fortune to their solidarity against Yahweh. Their bravado would be short-lived, however, for they had not yet seen the smoke of Babylon rising in the east or heard news reports of the damage that had occurred elsewhere.

Eleven miles southeast of Babylon, with headlights shining through the dust and dark before it, the overturned truck's passenger door was slowly pushed open, revealing the only sign of life for miles. It was just after noon but the clouds that still rained down lightning upon the city made it appear as night. Ed Blocher groaned in pain as he attempted to climb up through the door and then from the cab to the ground. Close behind, their teenage passenger jumped the last few feet, followed next by Joel Felsberg who, not nearly as agile, landed hard and immediately wished he had not.

"Here," Felsberg said, wincing in pain and handing Blocher the keys to the back door of the truck. "Go see how bad it is back there."

Ed Blocher took the keys and went to the back door.

"Is everyone all right in there?" he asked. The cries from inside told him they were not.

"I don't think so," answered an adult female voice. "We've all been tossed about pretty badly. I think we've got some broken bones back here. What happened? Did we hit something?"

"An earthquake," Blocher answered.

The woman leaned forward to see beyond the open door. "Is that the city?" she gasped, only now coming into Blocher's view as the light of the raging fire reflected off her face.

It was a rhetorical question asked in stunned amazement, but Blocher answered anyway. "Yeah," he said, as he helped a not-so-badly-injured man to his feet.

"Now what?" asked the woman.

From outside the back of the truck Joel Felsberg's voice answered her question, "Now we get everyone out of the truck, and if we can, we try to get it back upright. If we can't. . ." Felsberg stopped. He really didn't have an alternative plan.

"If we can't, what?" asked Blocher as he climbed out of the back of the truck.

Felsberg looked up at the black cloud covering. "Don't you think it's a little strange," he asked, "that despite the clouds and the lightning there's been no rain?"

The fact had occurred to him earlier, but with everything else that was happening, Blocher had not given it much thought. Now as he looked around, the ominous tone in Felsberg's question brought the matter clearly into focus. "What's happening?" he asked.

"In order for there to be lightning," Felsberg answered, "something has to be creating a static charge in those clouds. Since it's not raining, the movement that's causing the static must be in and above the clouds."

Blocher shook his head and gave Felsberg a confused look to say he still didn't understand what Felsberg was getting at.

"We've got to try to get these people to shelter," Felsberg said, still not explaining the reason for his concern.

"Most of them can't walk," said the woman from inside the truck. "And unless you can turn the truck right side up with just the few of us that aren't badly hurt, you're going to have to come up with another plan."

Felsberg looked at the sky again, shaking his head.

"What is going on, Joel?!" Blocher demanded.

"I don't claim to be an expert at interpreting either prophecy or meteorology," Felsberg answered, "and the Bible doesn't say exactly when it's supposed to happen, but unless I miss my guess, we're about to be . . ." At that moment there was a muffled thud and the ground shook again. It was different than before: not even a fraction so strong as the quake but it felt somehow localized, closer. An instant later it was followed by a second thud, and then a third. "Quick! Back in the truck!" Felsberg said.

There was another thud closer than the previous ones and Ed Blocher turned to look for the origin of the sound. At first he saw what appeared to be a boulder, light-colored and perhaps eighteen inches or two feet in diameter, rolling slowly toward the truck. Before his eyes could fully focus on the curious sight he realized there were thousands of such boulders. They were falling from the sky.

1:02 p.m. — 2 miles outside of Petra

Sand and dust flew in all directions as the helicopter set down near the headquarters tents of the U.N. encampment outside of Petra. Not waiting for the blades to stop, the helicopter's passenger, General Rudolph Kerpelmann, in charge of the U.N. peacekeeping forces in Israel, tapped on the window of the door with his baton to indicate to the crewman that he wanted it opened immediately.

Climbing from the chopper as the blades still rotated, Kerpelmann scanned the tents, and went directly to the one with the flag and seal of the Secretary-General of the United Nations. The guards posted outside showed him in. Christopher was waiting for him.

"Thank you for coming, General Kerpelmann," Christopher said as the general tucked his baton beneath his left arm and saluted him. "Please sit down." Kerpelmann sat down and Christopher got right to the reason he had called him for this meeting.

"General, I've read your report on the large number of Jews in Jerusalem who oppose our efforts here. Is it true," Christopher asked with a grimace, "that they are actually cutting off their own right hands to remove the mark?"

"I'm afraid so, sir," Kerpelmann answered.

Christopher shook his head and sighed as if to say 'poor fools,' before getting back to the immediate purpose of the meeting. "I've also read your recommendation for dealing with the problem." Christopher leaned back in his chair. "I am inclined to agree with your assessment."

General Kerpelmann showed no change in his emotion, but inside he was celebrating. He had not expected Christopher's

support.

"Have there been any changes since you submitted your report that would make you reconsider your recommendation?" Christopher asked.

"No, sir. In fact, in light of the upcoming action here, I believe my recommendation to be all the more sound." Christopher's silence urged General Kerpelmann to continue. "Sir, I don't pretend to understand exactly how all these psychic powers work but it seems to me that if you've got an action taking place here, you don't want a millstone around your neck from a lot of interference coming from Jerusalem."

Christopher paused and seemed to be considering Kerpelmann's advice and then nodded agreement. "You've got your work cut out for you, General," he said. "I want this completed by noon Monday, before the action at Petra begins."

"My people can be ready in two hours," Kerpelmann responded.

"Good!" Christopher said, and then after a pause added, "We've got six divisions under the leadership of General Novak at the rear of the procession coming from the Jezreel Valley. They should be reaching Jerusalem right about now. To speed things up, I'll direct Novak to transfer command to you until you complete your mission."

General Kerpelmann stood to attention, saluted briskly, and left the tent. "Finally," he said under his breath, and slapped his baton in the palm of his left hand. If only he had been given permission to do this three and a half years ago when they had first occupied Israel, he thought, before the rest of them had had an opportunity to go to Petra, the world would never have suffered the plagues. He knew the Jews. Growing up in Austria he had learned to hate them. As a child he had studied the Second World War and would lie awake in bed at night agonizing over missteps and miscalculations that had led to Hitler's defeat. It seemed ironic vindication of Hitler's convictions that eighty years after the defeat of the Third Reich the organization that had been formed by those who had defeated Germany had come finally to the point of realizing the necessity of completing the work that the Reich had begun.

1:20 p.m. — 11 miles southeast of Babylon

As hailstones two feet in diameter, weighing a hundred pounds or more fell all around them, those in the truck huddled together and prayed for deliverance. Suddenly there was a loud crash and the sound of shattered safety-glass. The truck's cab had been hit. A moment later a hailstone hit the truck's upturned rear wheel, tearing it from the hub, separating the differential from the drive train, forcing the axle through the wheel on the ground, and driving it fourteen inches into the dirt. Two more stones hit the cab. Additional stones rolled against the back door after striking the ground nearby.

The storm continued for another twenty minutes as various parts of the truck were pummeled, but not one stone hit the compartment directly and miraculously no one was hurt.

When the storm was over, Ed Blocher and Joel Felsberg and every other able-bodied person in the truck had to work together to force open the back door. Even then, they could open it only about a foot and a half. Accumulated hailstones around the truck left only a small hole, large enough for one person to climb out at a time. Ed Blocher was the first. As he emerged to look around, he saw the full impact of the hail. As far as he could see, the earth was covered six to eight feet deep with the massive hailstones and the city of Babylon had become a crushed, smoldering wasteland.

2:03 p.m. — 80 miles northeast of Petra

High overhead a large flock of crows winged their way eastward above the advancing columns. Those below on their way to Petra took no notice of the birds' flight: their eyes were drawn 400 miles to the east where a huge dark cloud rose from beyond the horizon. Nor did they hear the birds, for the air was full of cursing. The first confirmed reports of the destruction of Babylon and the damage to other cities from the earthquake were being broadcast by radio and television.

In the concern of the moment, no one remembered the words of the second angel, who had appeared at the dedication of the U.N. complex two years earlier.

3:08 p.m. — Jerusalem

The steel-toed combat boot found its mark squarely in the middle of the wooden front door, breaking the lock and throwing the door open. Cautiously but quickly, two uniformed men rushed in and began to search the apartment. Carefully proceeding from room to room they checked under and behind furniture, in closets, and behind full length curtains. Coming at last to the master bedroom, one slid open the closet door as the other pointed his rifle. Inside a woman stood against the back wall, her eyes closed as she tried in vain to hide behind the clothes which hung before her.

"Get her," said the man with the rifle. The other man reached in and took hold of the woman's hair and pulled her out as she bit her lip to keep from screaming.

"Not bad," said the other as he lowered the rifle. "But let's get a better look." With that, he tore the clothes from her body until she stood before them naked, attempting to cover herself — a task made all the more difficult by the fact she had no right hand.

"Hold this," he said, as he handed his rifle to his companion.

"Hold it yourself," the other answered as he dropped both their weapons on the carpeted floor.

The two men grabbed the woman to force her down on the bed but she resisted, scratching the first across the face.

The man jerked back and felt his face where she had scratched him. The blood on his hand revealed the extent of the wound. "You dirty bitch!" he said, and grabbed her left hand and twisted it behind her back. Taking hold of the bandaged stub of her right wrist in his other hand, he twisted both of her arms and gave a hard sharp jerk downwards, dislocating her left shoulder and making that arm useless. Her missing right hand had fouled his grip on that arm and so as the woman screamed in agony, the man shifted his hold to the other arm. With the stub in one hand and her elbow in the other, he countered the one against the other and with a sharp snap, broke her right arm at the joint. Quivering with the unbearable pain, she prayed she would lose consciousness as she was thrown to the bed helpless and the two men dropped their pants.

Suddenly there was a flash of motion from behind as the woman's husband who had been hiding elsewhere in the house, crazed with anger, ran into the room toward the two men. In his left (and only) hand was a large claw hammer, the only weapon he could find. With a single stroke, he drove the claw of the hammer deep into the skull of the first soldier, then ripping it from the man's head, he attempted to do the same to the second but instead hit the man's arm raised in defense. The force of the blow knocked the soldier back, and being unable to catch himself because his pants were down around his knees, he fell to the ground and became easy prey for the relentless blows of the hammer.

Down on his knees, the adrenalin of his rage compelling him to continue to beat the soldier though he was clearly already dead, the woman's husband nearly missed the sound of others coming into the apartment. At the last moment, he dropped the hammer and reached for one of the rifles on the floor. Having been right-handed, aiming the rifle was nearly impossible, but at this range it would be difficult to miss. Not suspecting what had happened, two more U.N. soldiers appeared at the door. As four shots rang out the two men collapsed as their blood spilled out upon the floor.

Barely able to stand, the man tried to help his wife. He did not notice a moment later as two more soldiers entered the apartment. They came through the door shooting. When it was over, the woman's husband lay with the four soldiers, dead on the floor. Unseen in the other side of the closet from where she had hidden, a stray bullet had pierced the closed door and the heart of their four-year-old daughter. The woman had been wounded in the side, but she did not feel it for the pain in her shoulder and arm .. . and for the pain in her heart.

As blood ran from her side, the two soldiers completed what the first two had started, raping her and when they were done, putting a bullet through her head.

From the battle headquarters atop the Mount of Olives outside Jerusalem, General Kerpelmann peered through his binoculars down at the city of Jerusalem. What he saw did not please him and the reports he was receiving pleased him even less. The Jews were fighting as people possessed. Even the frail and elderly had proven difficult to deal with — and this though most had only one hand. Now as he cast his view toward the Temple, he saw three men on the pinnacle at the base of Christopher's statue, planting explosives.

"I want those men killed," he shouted, pointing in their direction with his ever-present baton. But it was too late. Before marksmen could be dispatched, the sound of the explosion echoed in the hills around them. As Kerpelmann watched in horror, knowing how upset this would make the Secretary-General, the statue fell to the street below and crumpled into a heap.

Turning to his second in command, General Kerpelmann screamed irately and cursed God. His cursing had nothing to do with any belief that in doing so he would weaken Yahweh's control of the situation. Rather he cursed, as he always had, in anger. "Colonel," he shouted, "direct the artillery to target the Temple. Notify our people and give them three minutes to get out of there, and then blow it and everyone in it straight to hell!"

2:25 p.m. — Outside of Petra

"What the hell is going on here?!" American Ambassador and Security Council member Jackson Clark demanded. Secretary-General Christopher Goodman sat calmly and confidently despite the verbal challenge. "You didn't say anything about this!! Or didn't you think the destruction of Babylon and cities throughout Asia, Africa, and Europe, and nearly every island on the planet was important enough to mention?!"

"I understand your concerns," Christopher responded calmly. "And in truth I am surprised that Yahweh would use this tactic. It makes no sense, except perhaps as a distraction."

"A distraction!?" Clark shouted incredulously. "You consider a storm that rains down fire and boulder-sized hail, and an earthquake that decimates your capital city and destroys cities around the globe a distraction?!!!"

"All that Yahweh can possibly hope to accomplish is to use this to distract us from our real mission here."

"Well, it's working pretty damned well!!"

Christopher looked unfalteringly into the eyes of Jackson Clark and answered firmly, "When this battle is over tomorrow, I will restore Babylon: everything and everyone in it. And within three days time I will do the same for every other city that has been destroyed. By the end of three days, no evidence will remain that there ever was an earthquake, or fires, or hail."

Clark was momentarily struck dumb by Christopher's bold claim but recovered quickly. "Yeah, if we're not all dead!" he said. There was not much else he could say.

The sudden look of fury which swept over Christopher's face made Clark and everyone else in the tent wish he had said nothing. As Christopher clenched his teeth, apparently holding back a torrent of anger like a dam about to break, the tent quickly emptied without another word being said.

7:17 p.m. — The Mount of Olives, overlooking Jerusalem

When the bloodbath in Jerusalem and the surrounding areas ended, nearly half the Jewish population had been killed; hardly a girl or woman had not been raped at least once. Those who had not been killed were held captive, with half taken from the city to execution facilities and half temporarily held in the Kidron Valley below General Kerpelmann's headquarters on the Mount of Olives. On the hill between Kerpelmann and the captives, the construction of guillotines brought in for the occasion went on at a feverish pace. General Kerpelmann had vowed before the fight that the Kidron Valley would flow with the blood of the Jews, and flow it would. Other forms of execution were quicker and neater, but beheading had become quite popular with the troops and General Kerpelmann was always conscious about maintaining troop morale.

At gunpoint, Asaph ben Judah, the mayor of the Jerusalem, beaten and with his arms tied behind his back, was marched by two blue-bereted soldiers up the hill to where General Kerpelmann waited, relishing the moment. Soon the two stood face to face. Heaving a sigh of disgust, Kerpelmann looked over his captive, paying particular attention to the stub that had been his right hand. Kerpelmann had given some thought before their meeting to what he might say, but realized now that whatever he said would be a waste of his breath. He did not want to communicate with the Jew, he wanted to humiliate him, to crush him. He would no more have anything to say to ben Judah than one would have to say to an irritating insect before smashing it.

Finally, when Kerpelmann was satisfied with his examination of his enemy, he set his footing, and with all the strength his anger and disgust could marshal, he hit ben Judah on the right side of the face with his baton, knocking him to the ground. Kerpelmann laughed and shared a smile of accomplishment with the two U.N. soldiers who had escorted ben Judah to him.

Bleeding and dazed, with his arms still tied behind him, ben Judah struggled to get to his feet. Having accomplished the task, he stood and faced Kerpelmann again. For a long moment the two men looked each other in the eye. And then, without speaking, ben Judah turned his head and offered the latter-day Nazi his other cheek also.

"Get him out of my sight!" Kerpelmann said to the soldiers.

7:45 p.m. — Petra

Inside Petra, word of the destruction of the Temple and the fall of Jerusalem reached Chaim Levin, who immediately called for the people to assemble for prayer. Addressing the gathering, he read from the Psalms:

O God, the nations have invaded your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple, they have reduced Jerusalem to rubble. They have given the dead bodies of your servants as food to the birds of the air, the flesh of your saints to the beasts of the earth. They have poured out blood like water all around Jerusalem, and there is no one to bury the dead. We are objects of reproach to our neighbors, of scorn and derision to those around us. How long, O LORD? Will you be angry forever? How long will your jealousy burn like fire?

Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not acknowledge you, on the kingdoms that do not call on your name; for they have devoured Jacob and destroyed his homeland. Do not hold against us the sins of the fathers; may your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need. Help us, O God our Savior, for the glory of your name; deliver us and forgive our sins for your name's sake. Why should the nations say, "Where is their God?" Before our eyes, make known among the nations that you avenge the outpoured blood of your servants.

May the groans of the prisoners come before you; by the strength of your arm preserve those condemned to die. Pay back into the laps of our neighbors seven times the reproach they have hurled at you, O Lord. Then we your people, the sheep of your pasture, will praise you forever; from generation to generation we will recount your praise.

. . . O LORD God Almighty, how long will your anger smolder against the prayers of your people? You have fed them with the bread of tears; you have made them drink tears by the bowlful... Return to us, O God Almighty! Look down from heaven and see!. . . Let your hand rest on the man at your right hand, the son of man you have raised up for yourself..

7:55 p.m. — The Mount of Olives

General Kerpelmann looked down at the row of guillotines and the captive people of Jerusalem who would shortly feel the blades upon their necks. To his right and left on the hillside his soldiers stood by in raucous anticipation of the bloodletting. The exhilaration and glory of the moment was almost more than Kerpelmann could bear.

Unseen by Kerpelmann, about a hundred yards behind him and farther up on the hillside, a man clothed in a white robe stood on the Mount of Olives looking down on the scene.

Suddenly, Kerpelmann felt his knees buckle beneath him as his entire range of vision began to shake violently. One after another the guillotines toppled, many of them falling on those who had been assembling them. U.N. soldiers and Jewish captives alike were thrown from their feet. Kerpelmann's headquarters tent collapsed and a small crack began to form in the earth at Kerpelmann's feet. He attempted to right himself on one side of the split or the other, but the quake was so strong this proved impossible and the crack continued to grow. Watching as it did and yet unable to compensate for the shaking, Kerpelmann called out for help.

As two aides tried unsuccessfully to reach him, the split became wide enough that he could see that its depth reached to the base of the mountain. In another moment, unable to stand or crawl away, the chasm swallowed him and he fell headlong, landing on a large rock at the bottom.

Looking up, he realized he could not move: he had broken his back.

The force of the quake caused the wall of the city to collapse, rolling huge stones down upon the soldiers in the Kidron Valley who had assembled there for the executions. Those who survived were forced to flee the valley to the east and west, leaving only a few squads of soldiers to guard the captives.

General Rudolph Kerpelmann could no longer feel his body as it shook with the mountain around him. The fracture into which he had fallen was now more than ten feet wide and it continued to expand. Despite his situation Kerpelmann felt himself begin to grow tired. Unaware of the massive internal bleeding which drained him of his strength, he was at a loss to understand his sudden fatigue. Unable to fight it, his eyes slowly closed, but opened again when he heard voices coming toward him. Rescue had come; he was sure of it. But it was not rescue; those approaching were escaping Jews. The gulf dividing the mountain had swollen to fourteen feet, entirely cleaving the mountain from east to west, and as the mountain continued to heave, the split continued to grow. Suddenly the wall of dirt next to Kerpelmann collapsed, covering his body with earth and rocks. Only his face remained exposed and it was so concealed that those approaching did not see him.

At first only a few passed, then scores ran past him, fleeing through the canyon which had formed. Buried only a bit prematurely, his mission thwarted, Kerpelmann looked up at those passing by.

He did not call for help: they would not have helped him anyway, nor did he want their help. He desperately tried to hold on to consciousness, and though it sickened him to watch the Jews escaping, there was something he hoped to see before he died. Finally, his patience paid off as he saw Asaph ben Judah running through the valley toward him. On his face, a huge bloody welt had formed where Kerpelmann had hit him. Kerpelmann smiled to himself, spit up some blood, and died.

4:55 a.m., Monday, September 21, 4 N.A. (2026 A.D.) — Petra

Inside Petra, prayers for deliverance and rescue continued throughout the night. Now, forty-five minutes before dawn, Chaim Levin ended his prayers and called for Sam Newberg and Benjamin Cohen. "It's time," he told them, though they knew it as well as he. The whole of Petra seemed to know, for they rose as one and followed Levin and Cohen and Newberg as they started up the steep winding path toward the top of Gebal Haroun where, according to tradition, Aaron the brother of Moses is buried. It was a long hard climb on this warmer than usual September morning, but no one thought twice about going.

"L 'Shanah tovah" Levin told his companions.

"Z,'Shanah tovah"Newberg and Cohen answered.

Robert Milner woke early and breathed deeply of the air of victory's dawn. This was the day of the end and the beginning. By nightfall, Christopher and those who followed him would utterly destroy the final remnant of the cult of Yahweh, and at last the earth would be free. Never again would shadows of conscience or whispers of guilt enter into his mind. Never again would his feelings, his desires, his thoughts, or his actions be measured by any standard but his own. Soon the world would forget there ever was a Yahweh. It was the work, the dream, the quest of his lifetime, and today it would all come to pass.

As those who followed Levin, Cohen, and Newberg reached the summit of Gebal Haroun many saw for the first time the incredible size of the force which Christopher had led against them. Their camp formed a ring around Petra four miles wide. To the east and northwest the procession of those coming against them still seemed to stretch on forever.

And there was one other thing— birds, tens of millions of them — in the skies and amongst the mountains around them for as far as the eye could see.

Finally, with all assembled, Chaim Levin began to read from the prophet Isaiah. He did not read to the people but faced away from them, looking toward the east.

Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains would tremble before you! As when fire sets twigs ablaze and causes water to boil, come down to make your name known to your enemies and cause the nations to quake before you! For when you did awesome things that we did not expect, you came down, and the mountains trembled before you. Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him . . . Oh, look upon us, we pray, for we are all your people. Your sacred cities have become a desert; even Zion is a desert, Jerusalem a desolation. Our holy and glorious temple, where our fathers praised you, has been burned with fire, and all that we treasured lies in ruins....

At that moment in the camp below someone spotted the assembly on the mountain. "Jump!" someone yelled in jest, and it quickly became a chant that filled the camp. "Jump! Jump! Jump!" they urged. Robert Milner laughed.

Turning back to the people, Chaim Levin opened and read from the psalms.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.... The LORD is with me; he is my helper. I will look in triumph on my enemies. It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man. It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in princes. All the nations surrounded me, but in the name of the LORD I cut them off. They surrounded me on every side, but in the name of the LORD I cut them off. They swarmed around me like bees, but they died out as quickly as burning thorns; in the name of the LORD I cut them off. I was pushed back and about to fall, but the LORD helped me. The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.... I will not die but live, and will proclaim what the LORD has done. The LORD has chastened me severely, but he has not given me over to death .... This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. O LORD, save us; O LORD, grant us success. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD .... Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.

Then quoting the words of Jesus from the New Testament, Levin added,

For I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.'

Then without urging but as if on cue, the people shouted, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"

At that moment the light of the sun which had just begun to rise suddenly changed from golden to sullen gray. The moon, still high but lacking the sun's light to reflect, disappeared from the sky altogether. The day, which had started normally, now seemed to be turned back to late twilight. In the encampment, fear that this might mark the beginning of some new plague swept through the camp with screams and moans of terror which woke any who were not already awake. Their screams were muted however, when from the northwest, in the direction of Jerusalem, there came a roar so loud that the entire earth shook and even the sky seemed to tremble.

Robert Milner shook his head in disbelief as he stood his ground. He found it beyond comprehension that so many were so quickly frightened. They were fools — the result of being born into the old age. He wondered if a thousand years would be enough for some to be completely purged of their old superstitions and fears.

From high above the scene of panic in the camp, looking down from the summit of the Sier mountain range, Chaim Levin, the High Priest of Israel, raised up his hands toward the darkened sky and cried, "Behold the salvation of our Lord and Messiah. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"

High overhead in the east, in the infinite distance of the universe, there appeared a rip in space, a tear in the fabric of heaven, as though a rift between dimensions had been opened.

The fracture was more than illusion for as it widened, tearing open the sky as if it were a paper panorama, the stars themselves rolled back and seemed to fall away.

From within or behind the tear there appeared a distant light which cast upon the earth a cruciform image which removed all doubt of the meaning of the event. The panic which gripped the people of the camp now became outright frenzy. In seconds the light grew so intense that the sun itself, had it been visible, would have appeared as just another star in the cosmos.

Then from the midst of the light above the clouds there appeared a human form seemingly dressed in the light that surrounded him and sitting upon a large white beast that appeared most closely to resemble a horse. And at that moment there erupted the sound of trumpets, and behind the first figure there appeared a countless entourage similarly attired and mounted.

Robert Milner steadied himself and held firm. He knew this moment would come and he, for one, refused to be frightened.

Then there came to those in the camp and those along the way who had not yet reached Petra, a shout which reached through the panic in their souls and gave them hope. "STAND FAST!!" Christopher said in the universal language and speaking directly to the minds of all who followed him, as he had done in his address from the Temple in Jerusalem. "Stand fast!" he repeated. "Stand fast and see the destruction of our enemy!"

From Petra to near Jerusalem where the final contingent of Christopher's forces had spent the night, a spontaneous cheer went up that filled the camp and stretched the entire length of the procession. Christopher's words so filled Robert Milner with excitement and expectation that he found it hard to breathe.

Borne up by the spirit beings who had delivered him safely to the ground when he leapt from the pinnacle of the Temple three and a half years earlier, Christopher rose from the earth to meet his challenger in the air. As he did, the other figure descended, coming near enough to the ground that those closest could see that he was dressed in a white robe that appeared to have been dipped in blood. Milner savored every moment of this final confrontation. He would remember this time forever.

Still a hundred yards away, Christopher began to address his foe. As before, he spoke in the universal language so that all who followed him could hear and understand. "Jesus," he called, "follow me."

The other did not answer.

"There is no need for us to oppose one another. My fight is with the Father. Join me."

Those who followed Christopher struggled to understand the scene which unfolded before them. Was it truly possible that the meeting they watched could result in an alliance between Jesus and Christopher against Yahweh?

But why not?

Were they not, after all, the same, this Jesus and Christopher? Whatever resulted from this meeting, there was a sense of hope in just the fact that Christopher did not appear frightened by the man.

"Join me! Join us!" Christopher shouted.

Jesus still did not answer.

"Pity," Christopher said finally. "Still, it was worth a try." Suspended above his anxious audience, Christopher turned and waved his right arm above the mass of people, "Well," he said, looking back at Jesus, "what do you think of my little gathering? Quite a turnout, wouldn't you say?" Christopher laughed a forced laugh. "And they're all here to see you. Gathered here to oppose you, that is. To take what is rightfully theirs: their freedom, their inheritance, their destiny!"

Christopher's followers began to feel foolish for doubting him; obviously he was standing up for them, defending them to this representative of Yahweh. And was this not, after all, what they had come here to accomplish?

A deafening cheer of excitement and approval rose from those on the ground. Robert Milner was exuberant. The foretaste of victory was sweet upon his lips. "Curse him," Christopher told his followers. "Scream your curses so the whole universe will hear!"

Christopher understood exactly what they were thinking and feeling. "Over sixty million," he said as he turned back to face Jesus, "here of their own accord. All have willingly followed me. Those you died for. Those you intended for your bride. All, by their own free choice, have become my whores and sluts!!"

The millions who watched fell into sudden stunned silence. What had he said? His 'whores and sluts?' Though they tried to deny it, the meaning came to them all, including Milner, like a house collapsing. In that brief moment there swept over the entire scene an atmosphere which was at once macabre and hopelessly pathetic. They had not been brought to this place for a battle between Humankind and Yahweh. They were not here to bring down the walls of Petra. They were trophies, paraded out by Christopher and put on display. This was not about winning liberation. This was about spite. Suddenly all of Christopher's lies became transparent, revealing not only the ugliness of the lies, but also of the liar. And suddenly Milner realized his fate. The sudden change was so abrupt Milner could not believe it was really happening, and for the moment he was dumbstruck.

A new panic consumed the camp.

And from the eye of the one upon the horse, a tear appeared.

"All these and hundreds of millions more," Christopher boldly boasted, "have freely chosen to follow me to hell rather than serve you. All have taken my mark. All have eagerly cursed you and the Father. All have ..."

"ENOUGH!!" cried the one upon the horse, his eyes becoming like flames. And with that Christopher was surrounded by a score of heavenly beings. Those spirit beings who had raised Christopher from the ground now released their hold and fled in terror. Christopher's inability to resist made it painfully clear to any who doubted that instead of being Jesus' equal and opposite, Christopher was merely an impotent imposter. "The false prophet also!" Jesus said, pointing at Milner.

By now the multitude below, understanding that they had been betrayed, turned and fled. In panic they ran, but as they did there came over them a feeling of fatigue and thirst, followed by such pain throughout their bodies as they had never felt before. And looking down, they watched as blood began to seep from their pores, and in mere minutes their flesh wrinkled and turned as gray as the day and began to literally rot away. Streams of blood rolled down their cheeks and seeped from the corners of their mouths as even their eyes and tongues began to wither and rot. The rotting did not consume them all at once, but overtook them like a cold, crawling wave of death, starting with those closest to Christopher and Milner and reaching out to swallow up everyone in its path and quench its anger.

Then suddenly from the skies above them there descended hundreds of millions of birds, so starved by their long journey that they did not wait for death to take the fallen but rather swooped in upon their prey and began to tear the raw flesh from their bones.

In deranged horror and torment the horde ceased their attempt to flee and turned instead on one another, seeing in each of their comrades an accomplice to Christopher and a conspirator who encouraged and helped push them down the road to damnation. In their agony each hoped as much to be killed and freed from the pain as to kill.

Watching the melee, Christopher and Robert Milner, now cursing their captors and their captors' king, were restrained as below them there was opened a dimensional breach from which there rose a terrible stench and the heat of a blazing furnace. Six years before, Milner had told Decker that his ability to see into the future was limited by a veil beyond which he was not permitted to look. He had explained that there was something beyond the veil which he believed would be very painful and from which the spirit which shared his body was protecting him. Now the veil was gone and he realized the spirit who possessed him had not been protecting but deceiving him. Milner's spirit guide had led him straight into the jaws of hell.

Christopher fell silent in stark terror as he began to comprehend the vastness of the flames that would be his eternal destiny. Faced with the imminent reality of his fate, the carefully crafted facade of detachment which hid his fear with defiance began to crumble. His strength borne of hatred for all that belonged to Yahweh was lost as he felt his body tremble with fear. It seemed that all he was, all he had lived for, was suddenly being undone. He had always known this moment would come, but now he found it worse than he had ever imagined. In another second he might even have begged for mercy, but Milner spoke first.

"I trusted you, you lousy son of a bitch!" Milner screamed. "You said this wouldn't happen. I trusted you! I trusted you!"

Suddenly Christopher felt restored. The suffering of others made it all worthwhile. "You made your own choices," Christopher answered, laughing. "So did they all."

When the hole was opened sufficiently, Christopher and Milner were hurled, screaming, into the lake of fire and the dimensional fault was sealed.

All that day, from Petra to Jerusalem and around the world, the dark current of death flowed until none of Christopher's followers remained alive. Some who tried to flee got as far as Jerusalem and the Kidron Valley, where their blood filled the ravine to as much as three feet deep. For 200 miles, the birds of the air feasted on the rotting carcasses of over sixty million people. By late afternoon, the sun shone again.