Ever-Life the Two Book Set: The C.P.T Incident and Time Trust (49 page)

The bubble was only about two feet away, when Kristos looked at the others wide eyed, “I think the fact that there is absolutely no sound makes it most unnerving. Doctor, how long does it take to…?”

Just then, a blinding light from the beast made them all involuntarily close their eyes. In that blink, they transported. When they opened their eyes, the dome began dissipate. The tentacles, which were lounges, pushed each of them up to a standing position. They were inside a shallow cave, six feet high and fifteen feet wide. Bellos looked at his wristband and Knofer, quickly checking, to make sure the fathers made it, without any physical problems. He tapped his Knofer, and it became a small flashlight.

“…Come, this way.”

“Wait,” Kristos said. “Look around. This is a burial chamber.”

He walked over to one of the rock containers. “This is a Jewish ossuary, a burial box, carved out of limestone. It’s fresh-new. “

“What a sight,” James said. “Look there, more of them.”

“Over there,” Ahmir pointed. “It’s a side tunnel; light is coming from it.”

The three men looked at each other and then at Bellos. “Doctor, we must see.” Kristos said.

“Go then; we have time.”

The three chuckled and walked, single file, to the light. It seemed brighter as they got closer.

First James, then Ahmir, and then Kristos crouched, to walk through the side cave’s entrance. What they saw staggered them. Light radiated from the walls; and, a man sat before them on a rock bench, wiping himself, with pieces of clothing. He noticed them, immediately, and smiled. The three clergy, each heard his words in Aramaic, Hebrew and Greek, “Greetings, my brothers; forgive me; I am not at my best.”

Ahmir was the first to react. He fell to his knees, closed his eyes tightly and bowed reciting, “There is only one God, and Mohammed is his Prophet. My Master; forgive me!”

James knelt next, fixed and staring.

“My Lord; Moses, it is you...”

Kristos watched and listened to the other two. He tried to stand strait; but, the cave’s ceiling was not high enough.

“Who are you? What have you done? This is some trickery; and, I shall not be the fool.”

The man spoke with reverence, “Believing is seeing; seeing is not believing. Be not afraid. I will not harm you. Please, all of you; come closer. As with all things; you see what you will. I am true and will help you.”

None of the three fathers noticed that the tunnel seemed to enlarge. Kristos realized he could stand tall, without hitting his head.

The three men went slowly over to the bench.

              “Come now; you three came to me. Do not be bashful.”

             
“Where are we?” asked Kristos.

The man seemed to joke, “It is my birthday. Behold, my clothes are my gift.”

There, next to him, was a long disheveled, bloody pile of cloth. Kristos reached down, felt it, picked one up; and, as he did so, he saw… “Your wrists, your feet; you are hurt.”

Kristos studied the garments for a few seconds, clutched them to his chest and began to sob, “What have I done?”

He fell to his knees, before the man.

“I am just a stupid man. I am so sorry.”

Kristos bowed into the dirt and caressed the man’s feet, kissing them.

“My Lord; forgive me; forgive me.”

“Stop; stop,” the man said.

As he spoke, the three stared at his face. His image changed before their eyes. The clerics now saw the same face. However; each one continued to hear him speak and pronounce words in their individual native language.

“Be calm; thank you for coming…You three have forgotten something. Customs and interpretations change over time; just as the law does. It’s alive too. You three twisted your thinking, to justify dealing with a demon, because you rationalized a euphoric end. Your idea did not justify your behavior. Every generation studies, refines and interprets texts, to their own time. But, be careful; original meanings can become clouded, or even lost. Stop it. For many people; to follow in the path of sacrifice is impossible, much less difficult. Your Father, in Heaven, gives you the grace of his love, in those cases. Every son and daughter is pressured to think conformity. It is your job to teach clarity; and to invite your brethren and children onto a right path to God. Your Father has created a grand variety of life, and thought. Every one of you sees, in his own way, based on ones capacity to understand teaching and revelation. No one should force another to see as he does…Invite, yes; teach, yes and coach, certainly.”

Then, the man stared eye to eye with Kristos.

“Each of you has two eyes, and each one of them sees the same thing from a different perspective. Why do you conspire and insist that others should see as you three, or think as you think? Every true religion has its own language and tells stories ‘inviting’ followers to travel along a righteous path to God and inner peace. Even when the way and the truth stand, as a path, before you, you have the choice of whether to take the first step. Let your people choose for themselves on what road to walk. Your Father created the Universe; could he not rescind ‘free will’ if he wished? Do not complicate the simple truth, or think you can prove something that is a matter of choice.”

Then the man leaned in, put his hand on Kristos’s shoulder and said, “That which is not yours is not yours to keep.”

The man sighed, smiled and slapped his knees, asking, “Now, will you three help me?”

“Help you?” Ahmir said.

“Yes, will you?”

Kristos stood and spoke assuredly, “What can we do? Yes; of course”

“Come; I will show you.”

The four walked out of the lighted room, and back into the larger cave. No one noticed Bellos, anywhere.

“There; you see that stone, which covers the entrance to this darkness. I am hurt. Will you help me move it, so I may leave?”

The three men looked at each other, filled with a refreshed enthusiasm. All four of them went to the stone. Placing their hands upon it, they positioned themselves.

“Now push!” the man said. “Push!”

They all strained and shoved in unison, again and again. But it would not budge. Kristos, James and Ahmir backed away, looking at their hands beginning to
bleed, from pressing on the prickly, jagged rock.

“We are sorry. It is too heavy,” said Ahmir.

The man looked at them all, “Nonsense; we try again. I must leave before first light.”

The three looked at each other; and then, each picked another spot to push.

“On three, agreed?”

“Yes,” they all said taking a deep breath.

“1…2…3, PUSH!”

The stone inched to one side, but hardly moved. They let go.

“I think it moved,” Kristos said.

Their hands dripped red with blood. They took several deep breaths again; and even more determined; they set themselves against the stone.

“COME ON!” Kristos yelled in a whisper.

They pushed again; and again and again. Inch by inch, the rock slowly moved to the side. Finally, the entrance was open far enough, for the man to squeeze out. The three fathers fell back, onto the dirt. Exhausted and panting, James asked, “Now what?”

Kristos was smiling, with tears of joy. The man was still leaning, against the stone, out of breath.

“Thank you…You three are very smart. Try to bring your thoughts back to basics. You see, my friends; teach others to unite in a good, right ‘purpose’. Invite them to a better life, through worship. Through the right sacrifice, and faith, you can accomplish anything; perhaps, even a happy ending. Of course, patience helps too.”

The man stood up straight, taller than he seemed before. He turned toward them, briefly; wiping his hands on his garment. Then, he smiled at them, turned around; and, carefully, stepped out of the cave.

The three fathers sat, spellbound. Each began to laugh and cry at the same time. James reached over and wiped his bloody index finger on Ahmir’s cheek, giggling
with tears. Slowly, they helped each other up, and began hugging together. Kristos whispered, “Bellos?”

Only a few seconds went by; when they all heard a strange ringing in their ears. It seemed to come from a back corner of the cave. They turned and blinked from a blinding, bright light. A Carrier appeared; however, it looked different. It was one pulsing color, a beautiful steel blue; and, it had a silver halo, glowing around it. Across from the Carrier, some fifteen feet away, the figure of Mathew Bellos steppe
d out of the shadows. He stood fearlessly, facing the beast. A door opened right in front of Bellos, and out stepped the figure of Marion Brock.

“Interesting place for a meeting…I followed your trail, Mr. new GGM. I expect you will come, voluntarily, or not; as you wish.”

Bellos simply said, “You have made a mistake.”

And with that, the GGM reached for his Knofer. But, Brock was faster, moving with the help of Semitri. He lunged onto Bellos; but
, he went completely through the GGM, falling to the ground. The three fathers froze, in shock. Bellos looked down at Brock. “You see, my dear Brock, I am but a Post Controller. Our GGM is quite safe.”

The 3D hologram
clicked his Knofer, and, in an instant, he and the three fathers disappeared from the cave.

Brock stood up and brushed himself off. 

“Christ, that bastard. Well, this is just the beginning, anyway.”

“That is correct,” Semitri said, “Mr. Brock; nothing can stop it. Come; we go on.”

“To where?”

“To gather the power.”

Brock stepped back into Semitri. With a quick glow and quiver, the steel blue beast disappeared; and the cave was dark, empty and quiet again.

Chapter 19

Brazil

             
The braking roar of the airplane engine and bounce of the wheels, on the runway, signaled the landing of the Hush-Jet on a private airfield outside Rio de Janeiro. Rachel Sheldon wiggled and awoke, without side effects, from the drug slipped into her drink. She felt her head and looked out the window.

             
“This is not D.C.”

             
The steward, Gabriel, was quick to enter the cabin and spoke politely, “That is true…We detoured, Ma’am.”

             
“I can see that. My God, there is Christ’s statue on the mountain.”

             
“Yes Ma’am, we are in Rio.”

             
“Jesus, why; what is going on? Who are you people?”

             
“If you will be patient, Ma’am, Captain, Blake, himself, will be with you, after taxiing.”

             
“Not going to happen, sonny. I am not in the mood.” 

Rachel reached for the seatbelt release, but it would not uncouple. She yanked repeatedly.

“What the hell! Let me go you bastard!”

             
“Ma’am, just relax. No one is going to harm you.”

             
The plane taxied to a private hanger and stopped. Rachel was steaming, by the time the Captain entered. He sat in the chair opposite her.

“Mrs. Sheldon, I am Captain Michael Blake. I am sorry for the inconvenience; but, as you can imagine, in this case, I cannot have you wreaking havoc throughout my airplane. Now, if you calm down, we can talk civilly. How does that sound?”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and appeared quiet and subdued.

“All right, Mr. Blake; may I ask why we are in Rio?”

“I was paid to bring you here.”

As the Captain finished his sentence, the entry door at the front of the cabin opened; and, a short, trim East Indian man walked in and over, behind the Captain.
              “Good afternoon, Mrs. Sheldon. I’ll take it from here, Captain.

As Blake got up and walked out of the plane, he tipped his hand to Rachel. “Nice meeting you Ma’am.”

Rachel looked at the small man in front of her with a distain.

“So, can you tell me what is going on?”

“Actually, yes I can. I am Rash InVoy; how do you do?”

“I do very well, when I’m not tied up or kidnapped, thank you.”

“I do apologize for this, Mrs. Sheldon. It was necessary; believe me.”

“I don’t believe anything you say.”

“Well, perhaps this will help…”

InVoy undid her seat buckle and offered, “There; if you would like to leave; be my guest…”

Rachel got up and started walking to the door.

“Mrs. Sheldon; have you ever been to this side of Rio before? I find it most secure, if you like the gangland
elements. Please; either leave; or stay, and learn why we brought you here. I doubt your Mr. Rosse is going to miss you.”

At that point, another man walked in through the door.

“Hellos Mrs. Sheldon, we haven’t formally met,” he said with a smile. “I am Charlie Rosse.”