The three ‘guests’ were now just staring at Judas, caught up in his words.
“The Chinese,” Judas continued, “also thought of the world in terms of cycles and sub-cycles. The mathematician I-Sing in eighth century A.D. placed the beginning of the newest cycle, the one he was occupying, at almost one hundred million B.C. Of course, since he wasn’t aware of the western calendar he had to use the Chinese calendar, which doesn’t revolve around Jesus. You know the Bible is rather Western-world-centered.”
“Now the evolutionists, the scientists, the Illuminati—you know, the guys you hate—they say, based on their empirical scientific evidence, that the world has existed for four point-five-six billion years, and supported life for only a relatively short six hundred million years. Relative to four and a half billion years that is.”
Judas paused as if something occurred to him. “You know, it’s not just length of time, but how you view time that’s important. Note that the Hindu and Chinese view time as cyclical while we in the west tend to view it as linear. That simple difference in outlook on time makes a fundamental difference at the core of one’s outlook. Even your Rapture is part of linear thinking—there was a beginning and there will be an end—the Alpha and the Omega. But there is no beginning or end in a circle. How does the Rapture play into a circle?”
Judas placed his hands on the table and leaned back slightly as he regarded his visitors. “So, who of all these people is right? I mean even you Christians can’t really agree. And you base your numbers on what was written by people in the Testaments, so we’d have to make the assumption that this writing was fact, and literary license was not taken. And I can assure you, having personally known some of the writers and many of the events, that literary license was indeed taken.”
“It doesn’t matter how old the world is,” Angelique said. “It matters that God made it and blessed us with his Son.”
“Quite honestly,” Judas said, “I don’t know how old the world is either. Also, I don’t know if or how or when God made it. Because even if the scientists are right, something had to start it all way back all those billions of years. But I will tell you something I
do
know. Something Jesus told me that his Father had told him. About the Garden of Eden.”
For the first time since the three had stumbled out of the jungle, they seemed to forget about their surroundings and the Intruder looming overhead, and were totally focused on Judas and his words.
Judas put his elbows on the table and pressed his hands together. “First, I am sorry, but the world is not five or six thousand years old. There is enough empirical evidence out there that I have to side with the scientists on this one. And I have to side with what Jesus told me a little under two thousand years ago—information that scientists are only now beginning to uncover.
“About seventy-one thousand years ago a very large volcano erupted. What is now called Mount Toba on the island of Sumatra. It was the greatest eruption in the past one hundred thousand years on Earth. Many times larger than Krakatoa in eighteen eighty-three, or Tambora in eighteen sixteen, which caused the year without summer. I remember it quite well. The latter produced twenty cubic kilometers of ash.
“Toba produced over eight hundred cubic kilometers. Forty times that of Tambora. So much ash spewed so violently that its deposit was spread around the entire world. The plume had to have reached higher than thirty kilometers, well into the stratosphere for the emissions to entirely circle the globe.
“While the heavy ash fell to Earth relatively quickly, in three to six months, the sulphuric acid haze would have stayed suspended in the upper atmosphere for years. This haze would have been highly reflective, keeping the sun’s rays from being as strong. The average surface temperature plummeted well over ten degrees around the world for several years.”
Judas was speaking quietly, laying the information out matter-of-factly.
“The effects were devastating. Most of the world was deforested, famine for all creatures was widespread, and most critically, the human race was almost wiped out. The interesting thing,” Judas said, “is that this, what Jesus told me so long ago, was recently confirmed not by archeologists or historians but by genetic engineers.”
“What?” Gates was confused. “I don’t understand.”
Judas explained. “Genetic engineers have been mapping the human genome, trying to understand mankind’s past in this way. They’ve discovered that it appears that every human on the planet today is descended from a relatively small gene pool of only about ten thousand people. They call it the ‘Human Population Bottleneck Theory.’ They theorize that at some point in our history, the human race was on the verge of extinction with only ten thousand people left alive. The math is a bit complicated and it involves the amount of mutation in the mitochondrial genome—” Judas paused and smiled—“which confuses me, too. Suffice it to say this is something that was only uncovered in the last ten years. The math and science are very solid.”
“But you said Jesus told you of this,” Angelique noted.
Judas nodded. “Yes. Not of the science but of the event. You see, humans did evolve, but without the Father’s help they would have never survived, so in a way, both the evolutionists and the creationists are correct, but they are also both wrong.
“Mankind teetered on the verge of extinction after Toba erupted. Humanity in Asia was wiped out. Europe. North America. The few human survivors were those who lived in equatorial Africa and they weren’t doing too well. There were small pockets of people, barely surviving along a narrow belt of land. The Father brought them together into what in the Bible is called the Garden of Eden. There wasn’t just one Adam and one Eve, there were about ten thousand.”
Angelique had been leaning forward, listening intently. Now she slowly straightened as if the words had hit her. “Jesus told you this?”
“Yes,” Judas said. “He told me his Father led the people to the one place where they could survive.”
“And how did He do this?” Gates asked.
“He gave them all a vision of the Garden and brought them together that way.”
“Exactly what the Brotherhood is attempting to do to save people now,” DiSalvo said triumphantly, nodding as if he finally understood something.
“Not exactly,” Judas said.
“Why ‘not exactly?’” DiSalvo demanded.
“Because he was the Father and they are the Brotherhood. And the Brotherhood is making the mistake of trying to play God.”
The Final Day: Terminal Impact In 24 To 12 Hours
Southern Somalia
They had taken her off the streets. Kidnapped her. A white van, the door sliding open, two men roughly grabbing her. And then darkness. She remembered that much. After that, there had only been the padded cell with the other five, all as confused about why they were there as she had been.
Then there had been the voice and the vision.
She had never known such a feeling, not even during her most intense high on the purest of heroin. The most shocking thing was that it was as her mother had always screamed. Jesus
was
Lord of all.
She didn’t understand why she’d never heard the voice or seen the vision before. It would have saved her so much grief. Allowed her to keep her two children. Saved her from catching the virus that was killing her.
The voice had been smooth and gentle, echoing lightly inside her head, speaking words very similar to what her mother had screamed. Words from the Book. It was a voice that inspired confidence and trust by its timbre and cadence.
And then she had seen Him. So handsome, but also looking so wise. Deep blue eyes. A dark beard and tanned skin. His smile was what she remembered most. The smile that lit up His face as He invited her to join His kingdom. Who could say no to such an invitation?
She knew now that she was saved by the Lord, Jesus Christ. The voice and the vision had assured her of that. AIDS didn’t matter. The bad things she’d done didn’t matter. As long as she pledged her faith to the one true Lord and God, she was saved.
“Glory be!” The words escaped her lips for the fiftieth time.
Now she was in a place by herself. Not a cell, a room, but the door was still locked. Why were they keeping her locked up? She knew she’d been bad before, but everything was different now. They’d saved her. She owed them everything.
When she was first kidnapped, she’d thought she’d fallen into the hands of some crazy cult, but now she knew it was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
“Glory be!” She shouted it out loud, the sound absorbed by the padded walls. She screamed it again, just as her mother had every single day, but she shouted it with joy, not with the anger her mother had.
It used to drive her crazy when her mother did that. Between that and the beatings, she’d taken off as soon as she could. Just twelve-years-old and out on the street. But anything was better than the beatings. Her mother had blamed her. At first for her father leaving them, and eventually for everything.
How could her mother have done that if she’d heard the voice and seen the vision, the young woman now wondered? She shook her head and abruptly stopped the movement as a small spike of pain poked the top of her head. She automatically reached up to see if something had fallen and hit her, but there was nothing there.
It was quiet here. She had no idea if it was day or night—had had no idea since being brought here. She didn’t even know where ‘here’ was. She thought—
The thought was never completed as the spike came back, this time multiplied ten times over, as if someone had driven a huge rod right down through the center of her head. She screamed in pain and doubled over, sliding off the bed she’d been sitting on, to the floor. Her hands were grasped about her head as if she could ward off whatever was pounding into her brain.
But it was coming from the inside.
She curled into the fetal position, screaming, not from the joy of knowing the Lord, but from unbearable pain. She didn’t even realize blood was flowing out of her ears, nose, and even her eyes, red tears coursing down her cheeks.
“Please, Lord. Please. Please. Please.” She repeated the word, just as she used to as a child when her mother was beating her. Like then, the plea didn’t change anything.
The pain was no longer a spike but a burning orb that filled her head as if the interior of her skull were on fire. Her hands were beating against her head now in rhythm with her cries. Blood splattered about unnoticed, pouring out of her skull as if it, too, were trying to escape the pain.
Her screams had descended to whimpers, the pounding of her hands now blood-smeared caresses as her mind snapped and gave up. Soon the noise stopped and all movement ceased. Even the labored rise and fall of her chest slowed and then came to a halt.
Atlanta
The Head looked at the image of the bloody body on the autopsy table dispassionately. The top of the skull had been cut off and rested next to the exposed brain like a once white dish stained red. She had also been cut open from the abdomen to the top of her chest, the ribs cracked and pulled back to expose the internal organs.
“What did she die of?” he asked the doctor over the satellite feed from Somalia.
“Severe internal hemorrhaging. It’s as if her brain practically exploded for some reason. Numerous aneurysms. More than I’ve ever seen.”
“And the other five?”
“I checked them all,” the doctor said. “They seem fine.” The doctor shifted his feet uncomfortably. “She was HIV positive. We found that the first day we brought her here.”
“Could that have caused this?”
“I don’t see how, but—” the doctor shrugged.
The Head knew what the doctor wasn’t saying. They were dealing with unknown technology and effects. But it worked. They knew it worked. The other five were rock solid in their repentance for the wicked lives they’d led and their newfound belief in the Lord.
“She was not worthy,” the Head proclaimed. “Even though the Word will go to everyone, we know that not everyone will be worthy or accept the Word and Will of God. Redemption is only for those who truly accept the Lord into their hearts and minds. It is obvious she did not accept the Lord into her mind.” He pointed at her image. “This will be the fate of all the unbelievers. I find if heartening that the success rate was so high.”
With that announcement, the Head turned off the link.
When the Head entered his office, a report was waiting for him. A troubling one. Someone had sent an un-sanctioned transmission from the South American team’s radio. A transmission to New York City.
The John F. Kennedy Space Center, Cape Canaveral, Florida
The military had taken over from NASA the minute the Air Force cargo plane carrying the nuclear warheads had landed. Emergency crews worked around the clock to place the nukes on board the Atlas 5 and Delta 4 boosters that were being prepared for launch. The first Atlas 5 was now on the launch pad at Space Launch Complex 41, and ready for launch.