"Mission" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tilley Patrick)

'Yes,' he said. 'Didn't you know there was a war going on?' I hesitated, unwilling to respond to his question, but I couldn't think of a way our. 'You mean all those stories about a ceaseless conflict between the Forces of Light and the Forces of Darkness are true?'
'Yes,' he said.
My brain began to back-pedal. 'Sounds interesting,' I said flatly. 'But I'm not clear on where I fit into any of this. I mean, this is big league stuff. What can I do?'
'That's something we still have to work out,' he said.
My face must have been a picture.
'I .eo,' he said. 'This is one fight where you can't stand on the sidelines. All ofus are involved whether we like it or not. So you might as well get used to the idea.'
Okay, I thought. But don't expect me to volunteer I or hazardous duty. I'm strictly a rear-echelon man.
If he picked up my cowardly thoughts, he did not reveal it. The one thing I did not need was news ofan imminent Armageddon. I decided to steer the conversation back to something more innocuous. 'I imagine your people must be wondering where you are.'
'Yes,' he mused. 'I wish there was sunue way I could make contact.'
I must tell you, I fo nod it odd t hut lie cots Id nt. I mean, from t he way he'd been built up by the Roman Church, you'd have expected him to have a direct line. But I didn't press the point. 'Where were you when yoti made t Ins last time-jump?'
'In a village a few miles fromri [crusalem,' lie said. 'A place called Bethaiuy. I v~'as ralkiitg To my brother James and sonic of t lie ~lweIve --
'The disciples?' I asked.
'Yes,' he nodded. 'My mother was there too. I walked out of the house expecting to be beamed up to the longship and - 'He snapped his fingers. ' - there I was, outside this place.'
I nodded sympathetically but tried to hold back on the concern. 'The Book does mention your sudden disappearances in that period after the Resurrection, but the writers are a little hazy about your movements. Which is understandable. They weren't there when it happened.'
'Have you read the New Testament?' he asked.
'Not from cover to cover,' I admitted. 'But I know the general outline. And I can tell you one thing for sure. Nobod~entioned you had a sense of humour.'
lie smiled. 'There were times when that was the only thing that kept me going.'
'Well, the laughs aren't in the Book,' I said. 'But it's still sold a lot of copies. From what you've already told me it's clear they didn't get anything like the whole story. But let's face it, they're only human. Now that you're here, why don't we use what time you've got to set the record straight? Let's get as much down as we can, then you decide what you want to do with it.'
'Okay,' he nodded. 'Good idea...'
It had to be. I'd been watching the bottle of wine. I'd had two glasses. he'd had six. And it was still full . .
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Chapter 3

I lefi The Man in charge of the magic bottle and went and made myself a cup of cofFee. At the back of my mind was a hazy memory of him doing something like this befbre, but I couldn't remember whether it was with a cask of wine, a pitcher of water or a jar of oil. I phoned Miriam from the kitchen and asked her to bring me a copy of the 0 & NT. She told me she'd managed to talk her way ofTm lie Saturday night detail and would drive up in a borrowed car. She thought she would probably reach Sleepy Hollow around eleven and asked me what I was doing about food.
I told her that I'd brought enough for the two of us and that I had the inipression that our guest wasn't moo concerned about his calorie intake. It was, of course, the wrong thing to say.
'He drinks, doesn't he?' she said severely. 'What makes you think he doesn't eat?'
'Okay,' I said. 'If you want to play the Jewish mother, bring U~ a bag of bagels.'
'l'here was a withering silence at the other end of the line.
'Hub,' I said. 'You still there?'
'I'll see you later,' she said. And hung up on nue.
I carried my coffee hack into the living-room and resumed my recorded conversation wit ii The Man. 'You mentioned coming from another universe. I know that's otie of our word-concepts but, accord tug to t lie diet ionary, ''universe'' tuieans '1 he totality oft hirugs which exist'' ''anot her universe'' is a cmiiit radiction in terms. So what cx~'cT ly are we t a I king about?'
'A universe which lies beyond t he boundat tes of exter nal reality - which you usc as a yardstick to prove the ''existetuce'' of
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everything within it.' He paused as he saw me frown. 'Think of it this way - you're familiar with the one you can see -'You mean the one which falls within the spectrum of visible light?'
'Yes,' he said. 'The optical universe. And your radio-astronomers are busy mapping others composed of X-ray and other high-energy sources that give you, for instance, a very different picture of the sun. It's no longer just a yellow disc broken by the occasional solar flare. You accept this invisible aspect of the sun because scientific instruments have confirmed its existence. So it should be easy for you to accept the idea of a parallel universe which "exists" alongside your own but which you cannot see because it is on a different wavelength. Now, just as a host of short, medium and long wave radio programmes can pass through this room simultaneomlv, my world is superimposed upon the space-time continuum you perceive as the physical universe. It inter-penetrates yours completely, and it is able to do this because, like the radio programmes, it does not take up any space. Even so, it is as "real" as your own yet your mind does not admit of its existence. Why? Because your brain - which is like a radio set capable of receiving broadcasts from all over the world - has become permanently tuned to one channel. The local station you know as external reality. The finite world. And the received data is fed into your brain through the five physical senses. Rut many more worlds lie beyond this one and - 'He looked at me with just the hint of a smile. ' - something tells me that you arc aware of this possibility.'
'Well, I'm not a complete dummy,' I replied. 'I've read a couple of books by Curbs Castaneda and dipped into a third. I believe we have a sixth sense and like to think that we actually do possess that legendary third eye. I camu accept the idea of alternative realities just as I can accept the idea that we once knew more than we do now. My crohlem is that I find it impossible to envisage what form those alter~iative realities might take, or how I could exist within them or - and which is more to the point - what relevance they have to the one I'tuu part of.'
~lhe ts%an smiled againi.'Take it from me, I.eo, you donu't belong cxclusively to this world. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here.'
I headed for shallower water. '1 .et's go hack to when you first irrived here. Before you entered Joshua's body. 1)id you conic in a ~tarshi1~, longslii p, or whatever, like the omie I hat I presume is still ioveriiig somewhere above first-cent ury Jerusalem?'
'No, something smaller.'
I waited expectantly but he did not elaborate. 'Okay,' I said. 'I won't ask to see the blueprints, but can you tell me who builds these things?'
'Nobody.' He smiled as he saw my frown. 'They're brought into being by The Power of The Presence. Just think of them as thought - projections.'
'You mean like the castles and landscapes that were conjured up by the power rings worn by the characters in Michael Moorcock's trilogy, Dancers at the End of Time?'
He shrugged. 'Yes, something like that. I'm not trying to evade your questions. There are no words to describe the workings of our world or how it came to be. Just accept that it is so.'
I nodded. 'Okay, I understand. But it's still very frustrating. Never mind. Let's move on. You said that there were three of you on board.'
'Yes. Two Envoys and myself.'
'And I assume that you were mission commander.'
'Yes. In Earth-terms the Envoys were subordinate to me but they were both time-wise. I had never been through the Time Gate before.'
'How did it feel?' I asked.
lie chewed over his answer. 'It was quite an experience . . . It's only fair to tell you that a lot of our people become 'star-struck' on their first trip through the Gate. And some of them never recover.'
Who were they? I wondered. And what happened to them? Did they become wandering spirits on the run from God's army? Or did they go over to the enemy? I pressed on with my original line of questioning. 'Okay, so there are three of you inside this spacecraft, or whatever. What do you look like?'