The Christ Clone Trilogy 01 - In His Imagery
By
James Beau Seigneur
Old Enemy, Old Friend
Sixteen months later: December 8,2020 — Northern Israel
The frigid, rain-starved ground cracked beneath the weight as the old man walked
along at a steady, purposeful pace toward the west. Even his gaunt appearance
and wind-dried skin did not reveal the man's true age, which was thirty years
beyond what anyone might have guessed. As he crested the top of a small hill, he
could see, still some miles distant, the silhouette of the gold-domed Bohd'l
temple above the terraced city of Haifa which marked the end of his trek. After
fourteen days in the Galilasan wilderness he looked forward to a few days of
regular meals, human contact, and a much-needed bath. The nearly- empty pack on
his back had been overstuffed with dried fruits and nuts when he started. His
canteens, now empty, had added quite a bit of weight to his initial load two
weeks earlier.
Normally, after a brief stay at the temple, he would be off again for another
week or two in the wilderness, but this time there were other tasks which
required his attention. For over a year, since the cremation of his close friend
and confidante Alice Bemley, Robert Milner, the former Assistant
Secretary-General of the United Nations, had lived the life of a monk, going off
into the wilderness of Israel for up to three weeks at a time before returning
to the civilization of the Baha'i temple. His only companion on these journeys
was the Tibetan, Master Djwlij Kajm, Alice Bernley's former spirit guide. During
Bernley's cremation Djwlij Kajm had come to Milner and spoken to him in
Bernley's voice. Up until that time Milner had known the Tibetan only through
Alice, his channel to the physical world. Now Milner knew him in a much more
intimate way. Over the last sixteen months, Master Djwlij Kajm had taught and
trained Milner for the work to be done. Finally, on this most recent journey,
Milner had completed his spiritual apprenticeship and had received into himself
a guiding spirit who united with his own and the two had become one. The mission
that called Robert Milner out of the wilderness at this time would take him in a
few days to the city of Jerusalem, where he would await the arrival of
Christopher Goodman and Decker Hawthorne.
New York
"We cannot afford to compound our mistake by letting this go on any longer!"
French Ambassador Albert Moore declared as he brought his fist down on the table
before him. Nearby, Moore's chief of staff, Gerard Poupardin silently surveyed
the reactions of the other Security Council members. From his perspective, the
address seemed to be going well. "It has been nearly sixteen months since this
body voted to give emergency authority to the ambassador from Italy to
personally direct the operations of the World Peace Organization. At that time
we were assured by the ambassador that he had substantial evidence to
corroborate his charges of corruption by the WPO's commanding general. No doubt
the decision of this body came in part as a result of the incursion of Indian
forces into Pakistan and in part because of our shared concern for the plight of
the Pakistani refugees. And yet now, sixteen months later, we have still been
given no concrete evidence of any complicity in, nor culpability for, any
wrongdoing of any sort by General Brooks. Indeed, while the losses of materiel
have dropped dramatically, there is every reason to believe that this has been
solely due to new security measures which General Brooks was in the process of
implementing even as Ambassador Goodman stood before this body requesting
emergency authority to place General Brooks on administrative leave, and then
took direct control of the WPO into his own, far less-experienced hands.
"And is it possible that a more pernicious hour could have been chosen by the
Italian ambassador for making his charges, than at the very moment that the
incursion into Pakistan had begun? Charges whose only result was to undermine
the structure of authority, incite derision, and weaken the esprit de corps of
our forces when the leadership and guidance of General Brooks was most
critically needed?
"And so, what began with the incursion of a few thousand troops has grown into
what must be considered a full-fledged war between two peace-loving regions, and
which threatens the borders of a third, China. And ironically, though the
drought which led to the war has now lessened, still the war goes on, prolonging
the famine by diverting resources and energy into fighting instead of into
planting crops."
For twenty-five minutes this went on. Moore held nothing back. His intent was to
ascribe to Christopher as much responsibility for the war as he possibly could.
All of his charges hinged on Christopher's inability to produce conclusive
evidence proving that General Brooks was responsible for the losses of equipment
and supplies incurred by the WPO. In the four days Moore had bought for him,
Brooks had done an excellent job of covering his tracks beneath heaps of
shredded documents. As for Moore's charges that Christopher was responsible for
the continued hostilities in the region, history proved this a dubious
conclusion. Since 1947, when Pakistan was carved out of what had been northern
India, the two countries had been at war three times and at the brink of war on
a dozen other occasions. That a war, once started, would continue and expand was
no more surprising than that a brush fire once lit will continue until it has
consumed everything around it. And if there was a threat to China it was a
well-deserved one, for China's arms merchants had very quickly accepted the
offers of hard currency from the Pakistani government. Even Moore's charge that
Christopher had taken control of the WPO into his own hands had only a little
more than a trace of truth. Although Christopher was consulted regularly on the
WPO's efforts, from the outset he had placed Lieutenant General Robert McCoid in
charge of operations.
Still, Moore was making his point convincingly. And it was an address for which
much preparation had been made. In the weeks prior, General Brooks' supporters
and later Brooks himself had heavily lobbied members of the Security Council and
other influential U.N. members. Moore's goal was clearly not just to force a
vote to restore General Brooks to power, but to so humiliate Christopher that he
would not be able to maintain his position as Europe's Alternate to the Security
Council. Key to the plan's success was that those who had engineered
Christopher's election were apparently no longer a factor: Alice Bernley was
dead and Robert Milner had not been seen since her funeral. But removing
Christopher was just a part of Moore's plan.
Lithe months which had followed Moore's unsuccessful bid to be elected
Secretary-General, every other imaginable candidate had been considered but none
could muster the unanimous support of the Security Council. Moore had seen to
that. As the possibility of a consensus lessened, the frequency of the attempts
also decreased, and the rotating position of Security Council President had come
to be treated as acting Secretary-General. It was Moore's intent that it remain
that way until he could make a renewed bid for the office himself. But it would
have to come soon, and Moore knew it. If the status quo remained for much longer
the Security Council might decide to make it a permanent arrangement. In
preparation for the renewed bid, Moore was doing favors wherever he could,
trying to appear as fair and as diplomatic as possible. Except, of course, to
those who got in his way. Moore considered Christopher to be in the latter
category.
In a slightly different category was Nikhil Gandhi. He was not inflexible, but
so far Moore had found his price to be too high. Giving him what he wanted would
mean alienating others. Moore would have preferred the election of Gandhi's
chief rival, Rajiv Advani, as Primary to the Security Council. Advani and Moore
had gotten along well as Alternate members. Advani was now India's prime
minister, but Moore had no doubt that he would prefer being India's Primary . .
. should anything unfortunate happen to Nikhil Gandhi.
Kruszkegin and Lee presented a bigger problem for Moore. Both had served many
years with Secretary-General Jon Hansen and both had grown to distrust Moore in
the last year. Lee and Kruszkegin talked frequently, and both had come to the
conclusion that Moore must never become Secretary-General. If Moore was patient,
he could hope that Lee would retire soon. Kruszkegin, however, could be expected
to be around for at least five or six more years. And Moore was not that
patient.
When the vote came, it was a humiliating loss for Christopher. He had defended
himself well when it came his turn to speak, but in the end only Lee, Kruszkegin,
and Ruiz of South America voted to sustain Christopher's emergency powers over
the WPO. Christopher remained in his position as Chairman and titular head of
WPO, but General Brooks was restored to his position as commander of the actual
forces.
Decker Hawthorne watched the vote on closed-circuit from his office in the U.N.
Secretariat building, then hurried across the street to Christopher's office at
the Italian Mission to be there when he arrived. Christopher was obviously angry
and frustrated — two emotions he almost never displayed.
"Well, did you see it?" Christopher asked in a sickened tone as soon as Decker
walked in.
"I saw," Decker answered, the anger in his own voice tempered by a desire to be
as comforting as possible.
"The worst part is that it's my own damn fault!"
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Decker said consolingly. "Moore has been at this
game a lot longer than you."
Christopher didn't seem to take much consolation in that. "How could I have been
so stupid as to have gone to Moore and told him that I was going to launch an
investigation of General Brooks? I must have been out of my mind!" Christopher
paced as he spoke.
"It may not have been the smartest thing, but I'm sure that your intention was
to do the right thing. You simply gave Moore the benefit of the doubt," said
Decker.
"I gave him a hell of a lot more than that!" Christopher fumed. "I gave him four
days of warning. It's no wonder I couldn't prove anything: General Brooks had
four full days to destroy the evidence. I made a total fool of myself."
Christopher shook his head introspectively. "It's no wonder Gandhi and Fahd
voted against me, but Tanaka and Howell?" he said, referring to the ambassadors
from Japan and Canada, respectively. "Are they blind? Don't they see what Moore
is? He'd bring the whole world down around him if he thought that when it was
all over he could stand at the top of the heap of rubble and declare himself
king!
"You know, it never made sense to me that when the voting on a new
Secretary-General first began, that Moore seconded the nomination of Ambassador
Tanaka. And then later, when the West Africans rejected Tanaka, Moore was there
to suggest Kruszkegin as a compromise candidate. It seemed so out of character
for Moore to be promoting anyone but himself. I thought maybe I had been wrong
about him: Kruszkegin would have made a great Secretary-General. So when things
worked out that Moore was nominated, it worried me at first but then I almost
got used to the idea. Well, it took me a long time to realize it, but I'm
convinced that the only reason Moore seconded the nomination of the Japanese
ambassador and later supported Kruszkegin was to build a base for his own
nomination. I don't think he had any intention of helping Kruszkegin or Tanaka.
It was all part of his plan to be elected Secretary-General himself." Anger
burned in Christopher's eyes. He stopped and stared out his window. Outside,
freezing rain fell on the street-blackened remains of the snow that had fallen
three days earlier. "I've got to get away from here for a while," Christopher
said.
"Why don't you take a few days and go stay at the house in Maryland? In fact, if
you don't mind the company I'll go along with you." It had been nearly six
months since Decker had visited the house in Derwood. He wanted to make sure
that it, and more importantly the grave of Elizabeth, Hope, and Louisa had been
well cared for by the agency he had hired to see to the property.
"Thanks, Decker, but I'd like to get as far away from the U.N. as possible.
Normally I'd go to Rome, but if I go there, the reporters will be on me about
this vote before I've even hit the ground. And frankly, I'd rather not face
President Sabetini right now." Decker started to make another suggestion, but
decided that it was probably best to stay quiet and let Christopher think.
Christopher stared out the window. Decker had never seen him look so distraught.
It seemed there must be more to this than Christopher was saying.
"Christopher," Decker asked, after a moment, "is there something you're not
telling me?"
Christopher looked at Decker, his face filled with anxiety and trepidation. It
was as though Decker had seen something that Christopher himself did not want to
admit, but could no longer deny. "I have this feeling," Christopher began
uncomfortably, as he shook his head again, apparently unsure of what the feeling
meant, "that something is about to go terribly wrong; that this is just the
beginning; that Moore and Brooks are going to be responsible for some terrible
tragedy. And I am helpless to try to stop it." Christopher paused, but Decker
had nothing to say. "Am I wrong to want to get away?" Christopher continued. "To
leave it behind me for a while?"
"No, of course not," Decker answered reassuringly. "We all have to get away
sometimes to think."
"Maybe I'm just spoiled. I've never really faced a problem I couldn't handle.
For the first time in my life I have no idea what to do."
Decker started to say, 'welcome to the human race,' but decided it was better
left unsaid.
"I know this is going to sound strange," Christopher said finally, "and I really
can't explain why, but for some reason I feel I need to go to Israel."
"Israel?" Decker echoed in surprise.
Christopher shrugged his shoulders. "I just have a feeling that maybe I'll find
some answers there."