Centurion's Rise (43 page)

“
You’re never boring
, I’ll give you that,” Dr. Holmes sighed to his patient.  “You assassinated Caesar, fostered the rise of Emperor Augustus and the Roman Empire, and planted the seeds of Christianity, did I miss anything?”

“All in a day’s work,” Hastelloy mused with a self-satisfied grin.

A bright orange line of sunlight suddenly shined through the tall narrow window in the corner onto the patient’s face.  The sun was setting and it was time to draw the session to a close. 

He did have some points to touch upon before doing
so.  The complete about face this Tonwen character took in his story was important.  It signaled a turn, or a willingness to turn in the story teller as well.

“Tonwen and his time spent in Israel fasc
inates me,” Dr. Holmes began.  “At first he had no faith in a redeemer, but in the end he dedicated his life to spreading the message of eternal salvation.”

“He did indeed,” Hastelloy confirmed.  “He had a bona fide revelation that changed his entire outlook on life. 
Tonwen was so moved by what he experienced that he undertook mission trips into Pontus, Armenia, and even spent twenty five years in the city of Rome evangelizing the masses.  When he was finally put to death by Emperor Nero Tonwen accentuated his martyr status by requesting he be crucified upside-down since he was not worthy to die in the same manner as his Lord and savior.”

An involuntary cringe crossed Jeffrey’s face at the religious declaration.  It didn’t go unnoticed by Hastelloy.

“You don’t believe in a higher power do you?” Hastelloy asked.

“I’m afraid you have a hardened atheist sitting before you,” Dr. Holmes answered.  “My background in science allows me to believe only what I see or that of which I have ample evidence.  I believe in the laws of nature and physics.  Even if I were prone to religious superstition, seein
g the devastation in my patients’ lives would stamp out any flames of faith.  A redeeming God could not possibly do this to people.  It’s the result of chemical imbalances and traumas brought about through everyday life.”

“How do you account for all the documentation proving Jesus really did live” Hastelloy asked.

Dr. Holmes couldn’t suppress a laugh from escaping his lips at the mention of the word proof.  “By documentation you mean the bible right?”  An affirmative nod from the patient gave him leave to continue.  “Think about it.  The Bible first existed as stories verbally handed down from one generation to the next.  When it finally was written down it was in dozens of languages, and those books were hand copied until the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century.  Until then no two Bibles were alike.  In fact, if you examine the book of Mark you will discover the earliest versions did not include the last twelve verses; they were added by a later scribe.”

The cynical look on the patient’s face made him change his approach.  “Have you ever played the telephone game with a long line of people?  The first person tells the next a short phrase like, ‘I’m someone you can trust.’  Then that person repeats the phrase to the next and so on
down the line.  By the time the phrase has gone in the ear and out the mouth of fifty people, that phrase will come out as ‘Grandma got ran over by a bus,’ or some variation thereof.  It will come out as anything except the original phrase.”

Jeffrey sprung to his feet, walked over to the bookshelf that stood behind his desk and grabbed his International English copy of the Bible.  He didn’t believe a word it contained, but many did so it was a valuable reference material.  On the way back to his chair, Dr. Holmes flopped the thick book in Hastelloy’s lap.

“Do you know how many languages that particular version of the bible has gone through?  It started in Hebrew, then Aramaic, then Greek, then German, then Old English and finally became the modern English version you now hold.  Can you seriously tell me with a straight face that nothing was lost in all those translations?”

Dr. Holmes took his seat again before continuing.  “That pretty well covers my feeling on the language barrier.  Let’s move on to missing the cultural significance of things two thousand years later.  Better yet, let’s talk about the editing done by Church leaders to the Bible.  Hundreds of Gospel books exist, yet only four are included in the accepted bible.  Why?  Because when Emperor Constantine got all the religious leaders together they determined the others distracted or outright contradicted the single doctrine
they created for the Church.  They turned the Bible into a marketing tool, telling the narrative that fit the version of history they wanted told.  Period!”

Jeffrey was straying off topic, but his blood was up and he felt compelled to bring his argument home.  “To sum it all up, we have verbal stories growing bigger and more fantastic with each generation reciting the tale.  We have the telephone game of language translations going on, along with a two thousand year culture gap to contend with.  And to top it all off, men in power got together in a room and selectively editorialized the final product that so many people cling to with every fiber of their being; considering every single word a divine message from God.”

“What about all the prophecies fulfilled by Jesus as the Messiah,” the patient asked with a thoroughly entertained voice.

“Worthless,” Dr. Holmes fired back.  “They can all be explained in one of two ways, and probably both.  First, the Bible’s editors could have selected only the writings that matched their narrative that Jesus was the Messiah.  Second, Jesus and his followers were aware of the prophecies and molded their actions to fit the descriptions for the expressed purpose of looking like the prophesized Messiah.  Take your pick, they both work for me.”

The patient moved to give an answer, but Jeffrey meant to leave the rhetorical question unanswered so he lurched forward with his sermon.  “You’re goading me off topic, so let me try and bring things back to your situation, Hastelloy.  You tell a plausible story that wraps itself around documented human history.  You’re well read and know the necessary outcomes, so you craft the narrative to fit your needs, much like I believe the Church leaders did.”

Hastelloy leaned forward in his chair to emphasize his response.  “How did the movement of Christianity survive the slaying of its shepherd?  Early Christians were persecuted without mercy.  Do you think those people wished for the hardships their faith brought them?  Do you think a staunch atheist like Tonwen dedicated his life to spreading the teachings and stories of Jesus that eventually culminated in his inverted crucifixion because he thought it would be fun?  Something profound happened back then Doctor, that’s why the message survives to this day and is believed.”

Dr. Holmes pounced on his chance to make the discussion relevant again about the patient’s illness.  “I believe something profound happened to you in the past that allows your delusion about being an immortal alien to persist.  You need someone to break apart the irrational dogma you hold most dear Hastelloy.”

The patient sat back in his chair and pondered his next words very carefully before he finally spoke again.  “It appears you can view Jesus and I in one of three ways.  We both are either bat shit crazy and believe whole heartedly what we say even though it is a fallacy.  We might be liars that don’t believe a word we say, or we are exactly the people we claim to be.”

“I fail to see your point,” Jeffrey said.  “I don’t think you’re a liar, but your story cannot possibly be true, so given your criteria the only conclusion I am left with is that you are insane.  By extension, Jesus also was insane.”

“Proof is coming,” the patient whispered softly with a smile; a knowing smile that made the hair on the back of Jeffrey’s neck stand on end.

Professor Russell walked
next to Alex as they made the three mile trek back to the tunnel exit.  The two looked thoroughly punch drunk both from their week long captivity, and the conversations and actions they recently witnessed.  Several yards in front of them the two NSA agents discussed the gravity machine their captors put on display that could easily bring about the end of the world.  Behind them walked a well armed Navy SEAL team.

“Ya know it’s funny,” Alex offered.  “The first time I walked through this tunnel it made me feel claustrophobic.  After being cooped up for a week in that tiny cage all I can think of now is a quote from Dr. Martin Luther King, ‘Free at last, free at last.  Thank God almighty, we are free at last.’”

Professor Russell let out a quiet snort and leaned into Alex’s ear for a quiet word, “More like we’ve fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not like we just attended an Amway recruitment session in there,” Professor Russell whispered.  “National secrets were just discussed right before our eyes.  Do you think they will just let us go about our lives like nothing happened once we get to the surface?”

“We are American citizens who have broken no laws, what can they do to us?” Alex naively asked but her wavering tone gave away the answer.  Professor Russell put his arm around his research assistant and felt her trembling through his touch. 

“I don’t intend to wait and find out the answer to that question,” Brian said softly.

**********

“What do we do now?” Frank asked.  “They can bring the moon crashing down on our heads any time they want.”

“Yes, but it appears they don’t want to do that,” Mark countered.  “The pyramid has been around for four thousand years.  If they were going to do it they’d have done it when humans armed themselves with spears, not nuclear weapons.”

Frank’s eyes lit up in shock.  “So you’re not worried about this?  Our worst fears that an alien influence is on this planet and capable of doing us harm are confirmed and you’re just fine with it?”

Mark reached for the ladder rung leading back to the surface and continued talking to his partner as the
y made the ascent.  “Everything those two claimed has turned up to be true, so I am inclined to believe they have millions of their people housed in that Nexus device.  That means for the moment we have the same ability to destroy them as they do us.  We have some power still over the situation.”

“What about when the friends they invited to join their little party on our fair planet with that probe come calling
?” Frank cautioned.  “We may as well bend over at that point.”

“Unfortunately that message is away and there is nothing we can do about it,” Mark conceded.  “Everything hinges on our ability to control the fate of that Nexus device, we need to maintain that leverage over these beings or we really will be grabbing our ankles.”

Mark reached the top of the ladder and entered the tiny warehouse crowded with bookshelves once more.  He turned around and offered Frank a hand to his feet.

“If that’s the case, then why are you smiling,” Frank asked.

“Because I have them right where I want them.  For the last seventy years we’ve known almost nothing about the aliens on this planet.  Now I have two of them pinned inside the Sphinx with only one exit, which I control.  As a bonus, I also know the location of their leader.”

“Yah, he’s holding your brother hostage.  What’s not to love about that arrangement?” Frank grunted.

“If you’re at least one step ahead of them on that front – everything, “ Mark answered and then put a cell phone to his ear.

While Mark waited for an answer on the other end Frank posed an interesting question.  “What are we going to do about the archeologists?” 

Just then the other end of his phone call picked up and delayed Mark’s reply.  “Tara, it’s Mark.  I need you to listen to me very carefully. . .” 

A soft knock
came at the door that drew the attention of Dr. Holmes and his patient.  Tara eased the door open and entered the room carrying two cups of coffee.  She placed one on the table in front of Hastelloy, then turned and handed Jeffrey his at eye level with her middle finger pointing to some words she had written into the styrofoam cup.  While Tara turned her attention to the coffee table and gathered the remnants of the late lunch, Dr. Holmes read the message.

Your brother called – urgent.  About Hastelloy.

What the devil could Mark know about his patient?  When they spoke a we
ek ago he told Mark of the patient’s unique story about Egypt’s past because Mark was on his way to Egypt.  Jeffrey was careful not to mention any names though.  What could this all be about?

“Tara, could you hold on a minu
te please?” Dr. Holmes called to Tara on her way out the door with her hands full of dirty dishes and trays.  “This is my third cup of coffee today without a bathroom break.  Would you mind keeping Hastelloy company while I run to the rest room?”

“Certainly,” the young lady said with a
forced smile toward the patient.  “Unless you also need to make a trip to the little boy’s room, Hastelloy.”

“Even if this w
asn’t my first cup of the day, I would still pass in order to spend more time with this lovely young lady,” the patient responded in a charming manner Jeffrey could only envy.

Dr. Holmes
shut the door to his office behind him and quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed Mark’s number as he walked down the psych ward hallway to gain some distance from his patient.

“Mark it’s your brother.  You made Tara a little nervous with your call earlier.  What sort of urgent information could you possibly have about my patient whom you’ve never met?”

A few minutes later Dr. Holmes re-entered his office, and looked upon his patient in a whole new light.  Never once had Jeffrey felt threatened by Hastelloy and yet his brother, half a world away, told him in no uncertain terms that this man was the most dangerous individual on the planet.  All Jeffrey needed to do was keep the patient occupied a little while longer until help arrived.

“. . . my three house guests stayed with me all last week, but finally went on their way this afternoon.  They were fun to have over, but they’ve left quite a mess and all my other friends say they are more trouble than they’re worth.” Tara said to the patient.

“Relationships are like that sometimes,” Hastelloy pondered and then glanced up and looked Dr. Holmes in the eye and continued his thoughts.  “Other people can pass judgments on your friends, but in the end it’s solely for you to judge their nature and the value of their friendship.  Wouldn’t you agree doctor?”

“Well said,” Dr. Holmes responded while taking his seat once more across the table from Hastelloy.  “Let’s hear more about your friends shall we?”

*********

Hastelloy gently nudged a hole in the moist soil with his primitive ho
e so his eight year old helper could drop a handful of seeds into the divot and then cover it back up.  One planting hole at a time, the pair made their way across a well irrigated field along the Nile River with the great pyramids a few miles in the distance.  To their left, Tomal worked his own planting row with a young lad in tow.

It was humbling work for
both men considering the heights they’d reached in prior lifetimes.  They both had known riches and prestige at a level the world had never seen.  They both fought vicious battles on land, sea, and in the political arena of Rome, but that was then and this was now.  They stayed out of history’s way and worked the land as part of the small farming community that successfully served as cover for the tunnel exit leading to the Nexus chamber inside the Sphinx.

Tomal returned to the Nexus 42 years ago, following his near seduction by the Alpha relic.  Even after all that time, the events
haunted the man.  He still hadn’t come to terms with his profound failure.

Hastelloy came out of the Nexus anew 26 years ago after helping Valnor convert the Roman Republic into a monarchy.  Rather than returning to Rome again, Hastelloy opted to stay in Egypt.  Valnor needed the command experience to bolster his confidence, and more importantly, Tomal was a broken wreck who needed to be put back together, no matter how long it took.

The sun was starting to set just as Hastelloy and his helper finished their last row.  Tomal was not far behind.  They dismissed their helpers and then headed in silence back to the circular clay brick hut they shared as a home.  Hastelloy noticed with alarm that smoke was already rising from the cone shaped roof, and the scent of meat cooking filled the air.  Someone was home again.

Tomal opened the hu
t’s front door and gave way for Hastelloy to enter first.  Roasting on a hand cranked spit over a roaring fire was the largest wild boar he had ever seen.  Working the crank, with his back to the door was a scrawny youth in his early teens.  The young man turned upon hearing the door open and by the look in his eye Hastelloy knew Valnor had finally returned.

Amid the crackling of the fire, Hastelloy paced forward and wrapped his former helmsman in a crushing hug that lingered on without end.  Hastelloy was proud beyond measur
e of the job Valnor did in Rome.

Finally Hastelloy pushed the young man back and held him at arms length with hands on each other’s shoulders.  “Well done!  You stepped in to lead a civilization rife with corruption and decimated by civil war, and left it a beaming pillar for the rest of the world to aspire to
wards.

“I found the city of brick, but I left it of marble,” Valnor beamed. 

“How did you do it,” Tomal asked in a reverent voice.  “Rome had degenerated into an endless series of power seekers with knives at the ready to strike down anyone who tried to assume the singular throne.  I know, I was one of them, so was Hastelloy.”

“I took careful notes from the master here,” Valnor said while gesturing at Hastelloy.  “He relinquished his direct command over all of us yet still managed
to guide our actions from the background to get the results he needed.”

Tomal looked thoroughly confused, “How did that help you become the first Emperor of Rome?”

“By never assuming that title,” Valnor snapped.  “I let the senate retain their authority over the city of Rome, and contented myself to own everything else in the Republic to effectively control the senate from the shadows. 

“I was named Pharaoh and Egypt became my personal possession providing immense, and constantly renewing personal wealth from grain
trade.   Spain and Gaul were controlled by my loyal armies, and I marched my legions through the Asian provinces to assert my authority there as well.

“The Senate still made the laws, but I controlled the armies and money that enforced them.  In the end, the Senate did my bidding, and will continue to do the same for my successor,” Valnor concluded.

“You remained the First Citizen, never the Emperor everyone feared, even though the two were really one and the same,” Hastelloy observed.  “The result has been spectacular.  The world over everyone talks about the Pax Roma; the Roman Peace.  You have single-handedly ushered in a golden age for these people that will propel them forward culturally, technologically, and socially.”

“All that’s missing to balance out the Neo scale is the religious side of things,” Valnor pointed out.  “Speaking of that, any word from Tonwen or Gallono?”

“Give them time,” Hastelloy answered.  “Creating a kingdom that rules over people physically is far easier than establishing one to properly influence their mind and spirit.  Once they accomplish that, all we need do then is stay out of history’s way for a while.”

“What about the last Alpha relic?” Tomal asked.  “If Goron was clever enough to get me to do his bidding, even though I am his most ardent enemy, there is no telling what he’ll be able to do with the simple minded creatures on this planet.”

Hastelloy snapped up his hand to put an end to that line of thought.  “That is another issue for another day, for now let’s just enjoy a fine meal with a friend we haven’t seen for half a lifetime.”