The Christ Clone Trilogy 01 - In His Imagery
By
James Beau Seigneur
Master of the World
Two months later — New York
Former Assistant Secretary-General Robert Milner and Namibian Ambassador Thomas
Sabudu paused briefly to be sure everything was in order before stepping onto
the elevator. When they reached the British Mission on the 28th floor they were
warmly greeted by Jackie Hansen and shown into Hansen's inner office.
"Good afternoon, Bob; Ambassador Sabudu," Hansen said as he left his desk to
show his guests to the sitting area in his office. "How have you been, Bob?"
Hansen asked.
"Not bad for an old man," answered Milner.
"For an 'old man' you certainly haven't slowed down at all. I think I see you
around the U.N. more now than when you actually worked there."
Milner laughed. "Well, now that I don't have to be there, it's a lot more fun."
"So, are you just operating out of your briefcase now?" Hansen asked.
"Oh, no," Milner answered. "Alice Bernley let me set up shop in a spare room
down at the Lucius Trust." Jackie brought in tea and scones and the three men
sat down to business.
"So, what can I do for you?" Hansen asked, looking alternately at Sabudu and
Milner.
"Jon we're here — Ambassador Sabudu officially, and me unofficially — on behalf
of certain members of the Group of 77," Milner began, referring to the caucus of
Third World countries which had originally consisted of seventy seven countries
but which had since grown to include more than one hundred and fifty nations.
"We have come," said Ambassador Sabudu, "because on two previous occasions you
have addressed the General Assembly on the subject of reorganizing the U.N.
Security Council."
"Yes," Hansen recalled, "once just recently. But I'm sure you understand that on
both of those occasions my intent was to dramatize the seriousness of another
point. Most recently, it was just after the Russian invasion of Israel and my
motion to reorganize the Security Council was to make the point that Russia
could not just start invading other countries and assume the United Nations
would do nothing about it. It was never my intent that the motion would pass. If
Russia had been removed from the Security Council, I think it's a pretty safe
bet they'd have dropped out of the U.N. altogether and we'd have lost the
opportunities the U.N. provides to settle disputes diplomatically. So, as I
said, my motion was simply to make the point, not to actually change the
Security Council."
"Yes, of course," Sabudu responded.
"Jon," interjected Milner, "we'd like for you to bring it up again; this time in
earnest."
Hansen sat back in his chair.
"Ambassador Hansen," Sabudu began.
"Please, call me Jon."
"All right then, Jon. As you know, many things have changed in the two months
since the nuclear devastation of Russia. Many of us in the Group of 77 believe
that it is now time for the U.N. to change as well." In truth, the Third World
countries had been wanting to change the Security Council since they began to
make up the majority of members in the U.N. "It is totally unreasonable," Sabudu
continued, "that five nations should exercise such dominance over the United
Nations as do the five permanent members of the Security Council." Sabudu's
voice was spiced with the conviction of his message.
"Let me assure you, Thomas," Hansen said, taking the liberty to call Sabudu by
his first name, "even though my country is one of those five you refer to, I
personally share that view."
"Jon," said Milner, "Thomas and I have polled most of the members of the Group
of 77 and a great many of them, one hundred and seven at this point, have
committed their support to such a motion. Another thirty-two are leaning
strongly in our direction.
Hansen raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised at the level of support for the
proposition. "But why have you decided that I should be the one to make the
proposal?"
"Three reasons," answered Milner. "First, as Thomas said, you've made the motion
before. Second, you're very well respected by all the members, especially the
Third World countries. And third, because we feel it's absolutely imperative
that the motion be made by the Delegate of one of the permanent members of the
Security Council. Some members I've talked to have told me that because of the
devastation of the Russian Federation, they think that some sort of
restructuring will probably occur in the next four or five years, anyway.
They're just not sure they want to be involved in rocking the boat to make it
happen now. That's why it's so important that one of the permanent members of
the Security Council make the motion. Quite frankly, they want someone bigger
than them to pin it on if the motion fails. If Britain makes the motion, I
believe we can pull all or most of the votes from the third world countries that
are leaning our way. With that, we'll be within a dozen votes of the two-thirds
majority needed for passage."
"I don't know, Bob," Hansen interrupted, "I have no idea how my government will
feel about such a motion. It was one thing for me to make a motion when it had
no chance in hell of passing, but it's quite another if it might actually come
about. I don't even know how I'd be instructed to vote on such a measure." ,
"How do you feel about it, personally?" Milner asked.
"As I said, I agree it's unreasonable that five countries should exercise
dominance over the U.N., but on the other hand, I'm not sure I know of a better
way to run the U.N. and still accomplish as much as we do." Hansen thought for a
moment. "Hell — off the record — if we could come up with a more equitable
approach and it wouldn't bog down the system for lack of direction and
leadership, I guess I'd be for it."
"Would you be willing to work with us to develop such an approach, perhaps based
on some regional plan?" asked Sabudu. "And if we are able to come up with
something you're comfortable with, would you present it to your government for
consideration?"
Hansen nodded and then said, "I'll do what I can. But it's possible that even if
we can come up with a workable plan and I can persuade my government to support
it, I may not be allowed to actually make the motion if it is felt that by doing
so we would anger the other permanent members. Is there any possibility that one
of the other permanent members would make the motion?"
"We don't think so," said Milner.
"I see."
Milner opened his briefcase to retrieve a document. "To get the ball rolling on
this," he said, "I've brought along a proposal on restructuring the Security
Council based on regional entities. We may want to use it as a point of
departure, at least, in developing a final plan."
Hansen glanced at the document and put it on the table beside him.
"What Secretary Milner has said about your personal sway with the Third World
members was not just flattery, Mr. Ambassador," said Sabudu, becoming more
formal to make his point.
"Thank you, Mr. Ambassador," Hansen responded, in-kind.
"Jon," Milner said, "there is one other item which we need to talk about, and I
think it may just soften the blow to your government of losing its permanent
place on the Council. As you know, in order to ensure impartiality, the
Secretary-General has always been selected from among the members of the U.N.
who have no ties to any of the permanent members of the Security Council. For
years that has served as a major counterweight to the power of the five
permanent members on the Security Council. But if the Security Council were
reorganized on some other basis, there would be no reason for continuing that
requirement. There would be no defensible reason that the Secretary-General
shouldn't be from, say, Britain, or the U.S., or any of the other former
permanent members of the Council.
"Jon, the Secretary-General has already indicated his intention to retire at the
end of this session. If you are the one to make the motion and we can get the
votes we need for passage, we believe that you would be the obvious candidate to
take his place."
Jon Hansen took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.
Li the outside office Jackie Hansen was working at her computer when she looked
up to see Christopher Goodman coming in the door. "Hi, Christopher," she said.
"How was school?"
"Okay," he answered. "Is Mr. Hawthorne here?"
"He's out right now but I expect him back shortly. If you want, you can wait in
his office."
"No, that's okay," he said. "I just wanted to let him know that I'd be a little
late this evening. I'm going to the seminar and exhibit that the Saudi
government is sponsoring. Would you tell him for me?"
"Sure, Christopher," Jackie answered. "You seem to stay pretty busy going to all
those exhibits."
"Yeah, it's great. There's a different seminar or exhibit or program to go to
every couple of weeks. And some of the exhibits can take days to go through."
"I envy you," she said. "I wish I had the time to take advantage of all the
educational programs the U.N. has to offer."
Jackie saw the Ambassador's door start to open and put her finger to her lips to
indicate that they'd have to continue the conversation in a few minutes, after
Ambassador Hansen's guests left.
Christopher picked up a magazine to keep busy until he and Jackie could continue
their conversation, but before he could start reading, he heard someone call his
name. He looked up to see Assistant Secretary-General Milner standing next to
Ambassador Hansen, looking straight at him.
"Oh, hello, Secretary Milner," Christopher answered.
"You two know each other?" Hansen asked Milner.
"Yes," Milner answered. "We've bumped into each other on several occasions at
some of the exhibits, but we weren't formally introduced until a few days ago
when I spoke at Christopher's high school about my 'World Curriculum' project
and the goals of the United Nations. He's quite a good student, his teacher
tells me. It wouldn't surprise me at all if Christopher went to work for the
U.N. himself someday," concluded Milner, who then turned his full attention back
to Hansen and Sabudu.
"As soon as you've had a chance to review the draft document I gave you and to
come up with recommendations on how to improve it, please call me and we'll get
back together," Milner told Hansen. "I'll do that," answered Hansen.
With that the men shook hands and Milner and Sabudu left. Afterward Hansen told
Jackie to inform the senior staff that there would be a 4:30 meeting and they'd
all be working a little late.
"Well," Jackie told Christopher, as soon as Ambassador Hansen closed the door to
his office, "it looks like you'll have plenty of time at the Saudi exhibit.
"I'll give Decker the message for you."
"Thanks," said Christopher, as he headed for the door. Before he reached it,
though, it opened again. It was Milner.
"Christopher, will you be at the Saudi exhibit this evening?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. I'm going there now."
"Good, I'll see you there. They have a really wonderful presentation on Islam,
including some exquisite models of the mosques in Mecca and Medina."
Six weeks later — Tel Aviv, Israel
Tom Donafin dabbed his finger across the bristles of his toothbrush to see if he
had applied enough toothpaste. Satisfied that he had, he replaced the tube in
its assigned spot on the counter by the sink. He had now been blind for about
six months and was learning to live with it. Fortunately, he had always
preferred wearing a beard so he didn't have to worry about shaving. When he took
an apartment on the same floor in her building, Rhoda helped him set up his
closet and drawers so that he could pick out matching clothes to wear.
He thought it might still be a little early, but as soon as he was dressed he
locked up and walked down the hall toward Rhoda's apartment. Feeling his way
with his long white cane, he reached the end of the hall, turned and counted his
steps to her front door. He had done this many times by himself, and there was
really no possibility he would go to the wrong door. Still, he had suggested to
Rhoda that they carve a heart and their initials into her door so he could
always be sure he had the right apartment. Rhoda had thought better of the idea.
Tom knocked at the door and was greeted a moment later with a very warm kiss,
which he gladly returned. "You're early," Rhoda said. "Come on in. I was just
about to change."
"Should I cover my eyes?" Tom joked.
"It's not your eyes I'm concerned about; it's the pictures in your mind. You
just wait here. I'll be back in a minute." In the past Tom had always avoided
any real involvement with a woman because he feared rejection because of his
disfigurement. Strangely, now that he couldn't see, it was no longer a problem.
Torn made his way to the couch and sat down. On the coffee table Rhoda kept a
book for beginning braille students. He picked it up, intending to get in a
little practice, but noticed a single sheet of paper sitting on top. Running his
fingers over the formations of bumps one at a time, he determined the characters
on the page. "I love you," it said.
Tom didn't mention the note to Rhoda when she came from her bedroom.
"All ready," she said.
Tom got up and walked toward the door. Rhoda met him halfway and placed his hand
in the now familiar spot on her arm. "Rabbi won't know what to think when we get
to Havdalah early," she said.
"That won't be his only surprise tonight," Tom added, and though he couldn't see
it, he was confident that there was a smile on Rhoda's face.
After dinner at Rabbi Cohen's house, everyone moved to the living room. Benjamin
Cohen, who alone with his father was the only member of the rabbi's family to
survive the Disaster, turned off the lights as his father prayed and lit the
three wicks of the tall blue and white braided Havdalah candle. The Havdalah or
'separation' marked the end of the Sabbath and the beginning of the work week —
the distinction of the holy from the secular. Along with the Cohens and Tom and
Rhoda there were nine others present. Originally there had been many more in
Cohen's congregation but the Disaster had reduced their number by over a hundred
and fifty. Now they could fit easily into Cohen's living room. Of those present,
some, like Rhoda, had started attending Cohen's services only a few weeks or
months before the Disaster. Others had joined the group afterward.
As the flame grew, Saul Cohen took the candle and held it up. In accordance with
tradition, those in the circle responded by standing and holding their hands up
toward the light with their fingers cupped. Though he could not see the flame,
Tom could feel the heat of the large candle and he did as Rhoda had taught him.
It meant nothing to him beyond simply being a tradition, but it was important to
Rhoda and so he did it.
As they had planned, after the Havdalah, Tom and Rhoda waited for everyone to
leave so they could talk with Rabbi Cohen alone.
"Tell me, Tom," Cohen asked, "how did my favorite skeptic like tonight's
message?"
"Well," Tom said, "I understood what you were saying but don't you think it's
kind of narrow-minded to say that there's only one way for a person to get into
the kingdom of God?"
"It would be, Tom, "Cohen answered, "were it not for the fact that the one way
that God offers is entirely unrestricted, completely free, and totally
accessible to each and every person on the planet. God is no farther from any of
us than our willingness to call upon him. Would it be narrow-minded to say that
there is only one thing that everyone must breathe in order to live?"
"But air is available to everyone," Tom countered.
"Tom, so is God. The Bible says in the book of Romans that God has made himself
known to everyone. It doesn't matter whether you're Jew or Gentile, Hindu or
Buddhist, Muslim or pagan. It's up to each person as an individual whether he
will answer God's call. And Tom, one of the great things about it is that once
you've answered that call you'll find that it's absolutely the most natural
thing in the world: even," Cohen laughed at his own unexpected turn of phrase,
"more natural than breathing."
The subject was worthy of further discussion but right now Tom had something
else on his mind. As a transitional step from this discussion to what he really
wanted to talk about, Tom decided to ask the rabbi something he had wondered
about for a while. "Rabbi," he said, "there's something I don't understand: if
you no longer believe as the other Hasidim believe, why do you still wear the
attire and earlocks of Hasidim?" Rhoda looked away in embarrassment; she would
never have asked the question herself but it was something she had often
wondered about. She felt sure the rabbi would know she had mentioned it to Tom.
After all, how else could Tom know what the rabbi wore?
"It is my heritage," Cohen answered. "Even the Apostle Paul, who Messiah charged
with bringing the word to the gentiles, did not change his ways, except as it
was necessary to accomplish his mission. Besides," added Cohen, "there are many
years of wear left in these clothes. Why should I buy new?"
Cohen smiled, but Tom, who could only assume that Cohen was serious, had to bite
his lip to hold back laughter.
"So, what is it I can do for you?" asked Cohen, assuming correctly that Tom and
Rhoda had not stayed late just to ask him about his wardrobe.
"Well," said Tom, glad for the opportunity to get to the subject he wanted to
talk about, "Rhoda and I would like for you to officiate at our wedding."
Cohen didn't respond.
"Is something the matter, Rabbi?" Rhoda asked.
Cohen hesitated. "I'm sorry. Rhoda, could I speak with you alone for just a
moment?"
Cohen began to move away, and Rhoda automatically followed before Tom could even
think to object. In a moment so brief he couldn't speak, they were gone and Tom
heard one of the interior doors of the house close behind them.
"Rhoda," Cohen said, as soon as he was alone with her, "do you remember what I
told you when I brought Tom to you?"
"You mean the prophecy?" she asked.
"Yes."
"How could I forget it? I've thought about it every day."
"Then you know that this will not be an easy marriage. You may have several
years of peace — I don't know exactly how many — but then you will lose him. The
prophecy is clear: 'he must bring death and die that the end and the beginning
may come.'"
"I know and I understand," Rhoda answered.
"And you still want to go ahead with the marriage?" Cohen's voice showed concern
but gave no hint of disapproval.
"Yes, Rabbi. More than anything."
Cohen gave her a look of caution concerning her last statement.
Rhoda saw the look and quickly corrected herself: "I mean, more than anything,
as long as it is within God's will."
Cohen let it pass. "All right, then. Just as long as you're going into this with
your eyes wide open."
"I am, Rabbi," Rhoda assured him.
"There is, of course, the issue of being yoked to an unbeliever, but with Tom, I
have always known it was just a matter of time. We shall have to see to that
immediately, and by all means before the wedding takes place."
Rhoda willingly agreed.
"Oh, by the way," Cohen asked as an afterthought, "have you told Tom about the
prophecy?"
"No, Rabbi. I didn't think I should."
Cohen nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, it's probably best that you don't. Better to
let God act in his own time, and not put any ideas in Tom's head."
Cohen and Rhoda went back to where Tom was waiting for them. "Well, Tom," Cohen
began, by way of explanation, "your Rhoda assures me that she's going into this
with her eyes open."
Tom knew how much stock Rhoda put in Cohen's opinions but he didn't much care
for being talked about when he wasn't around to defend himself, and he wasn't at
all sure he liked the scrutiny Cohen had apparently placed on their plans.
Nonetheless, he decided to hold his tongue. He would soon be glad he did.
"Speaking of going into things with your eyes open," Cohen said, "Tom, I have a
wedding gift for you. Actually, it's not from me. I was told to give you this
when I first found you under the rubble. The exact timing was left up to me,
and, I guess this seems like as good a time as any." Cohen came close to Tom,
reached out his hand, and placed it over Tom's eyes. "Not through any power of
my own," Cohen said, before Tom could even figure out what was going on, "but in
the name, and through the power of Messiah Yeshua: open your eyes and see."
Two weeks later — New York
British Ambassador Jon Hansen was widely applauded as he approached the
speaker's dais at the United Nations General Assembly. His speech would be
translated simultaneously into Arabic, Chinese, French, Russian and Spanish,
which together with English are the six official languages of the United
Nations. Twice before Hansen had spoken on the subject of reorganizing the U.N.
Security Council, but this time there was no doubt that the plea would be made
in earnest.
Over the preceding three weeks Decker had spent countless hours working on this
speech: writing drafts, condensing, expanding, adding, deleting, polishing, and
working with linguists to ensure that the words spoken in English would have the
proper impact when translated into the other official languages. What Hansen was
about to propose would involve a major restructuring of the United Nations; his
words would have to be both clearly understood and thoroughly compelling.
The message of Hansen's address was not unexpected. The press was out in force
to cover the address and the seconding speeches. There was still no guarantee of
getting the two-thirds vote necessary to carry the motion; too many nations
would not make a commitment before the actual vote.
What made it possible now that Hansen's motion might actually pass, when before
it had not been taken seriously, were the recent events in Russia. The nuclear
holocaust had reduced the Russian Federation to a mere specter. Even the name
was threatened as survivors in one federated region after another emerged from
the rubble and declared themselves independent republics — much as had happened
when the Russian Federation's predecessor, the U.S.S.R., fell apart decades
before. Those were the lucky ones; in some parts of Russia there were not enough
survivors to even worry about things political.
The world had been a much different place on October 24, 1945, when the United
Nations officially came into being. The Second World War had just ended, and the
victors — the United States, Great Britain, France, the Soviet Union, and China
— made up the major powers of the world and so had established themselves as the
"Big Five," giving themselves permanent member status and veto power in the
United Nations Security Council. Since that time Britain had divested herself of
her colonies and though influential, remained great only in name. She would
trade her power on the Security Council for temporary control of the Secretariat
under Hansen and the opportunity to direct the U.N.'s reorganization. "It is
better to trade away now what might well be taken tomorrow," Hansen had told the
British Parliament. Britain knew that the evolution of the U.N. was unstoppable.
Guiding that evolution was a responsibility for which Britain felt itself
uniquely qualified.
France, never truly an economic world power after World War II and ever the
libertine, had turned to neo-isolationism and so had voluntarily surrendered her
position as a world leader. She would not, however, so willingly surrender her
power. Even as Hansen spoke, France lobbied other members to vote against the
measure. China was an anomaly. Despite being one of the poorest countries, it
remained a world power, if only because of its military strength and its
enormous population. Because of its size, China alone of the five original
Security Council members would be guaranteed a seat on the reorganized Council.
Nonetheless, China would oppose the measure because its power would be diluted
by half in the proposed ten member council. Her great size would make little
difference in the General Assembly. Concessions made two years earlier had
removed veto power of the Big Five over amending the U.N. Charter. China, like
the tiniest of countries, would have only one vote. The Russian Federation,
though it would protest loudly, certainly no longer had legitimate claim to
permanent status on the Security Council or to veto power over its actions.
Only the United States could truly claim a right to permanent status based on
its position as a world power. Yet in a very real sense, this proposal might be
seen as a logical next step toward the 'New World Order' first proposed by
former U.S. President George Bush, and it appeared to have the support of, if
not a majority, then at least a large and vocal minority of American citizens as
well as a majority of those in Congress. The U.S. would not stand in the way of
reorganization if that is what the members of the United Nations wanted.
Hansen's proposal would eliminate the permanent positions of the 'Big Five' and
instead structure a newly defined Security Council around representatives of
each often major regions of the world. The details would have to be worked out
by all member nations, but it was expected that these regions would include
North America; South America; Europe and Iceland; Eastern Africa; Western
Africa; the Middle East; the Indian subcontinent; Northern Asia; China; and the
nations of Asia's Pacific basin from Japan and Korea, down to New Guinea, along
with Australia, and New Zealand. Each region would have one voting member and
one alternate member on the Security Council.
As he stood before the great assembly of nations, about to give the most
important speech of his life, Hansen was running on adrenalin. He had spent
night and day for the past several weeks lobbying for approval. Now was the
moment for show business, but immediately afterward the lobbying and arm
twisting would continue anew. Hansen came to the speaker's lectern and began.
"My fellow Delegates and citizens of the world: I come to you today as the
Ambassador of an empire now divested of all her colonies. I say that not with
regret; but with pride. Pride that over time we have grown to recognize the
rights of sovereign peoples to set their own course in the history of the earth.
Pride that my beloved Britain, though she will bear a great cost at its passage,
has placed justice ahead of power and has authorized the introduction and the
support of this motion.
"For more than sixty years since the foundation of this august body, five
countries, Great Britain among them, have held sway over the other nations of
the world. Today the history of nations has come to a new path.
"A new path — not a destination; for there is no stopping.
"A new path — not to a crossroads; for in truth there is no other way that just
and reasonable men and women may choose.
"A new path — not a detour; for the path we were on has taken us as far as it
will go.
"A new path — not a dead-end; for there can be no going back.
"It is the most tragic of situations that has brought us so abruptly to this
point in history, and yet, were it not so we would have reached it still. From
the first days of the United Nations, it has always been the visionaries' dream
that one day all nations would stand as equals in this body. We have come too
far toward that dream to refuse now to continue the advance toward its
fulfillment.
The time has come for all peoples of the world to put off the shackles of the
past. The day of the empire is gone, and just as certainly the day of
subservience to those bom of power must also come to an end. Justice is not
found in the rule of those who consider themselves our betters, but from the
common will of peers. The greatness of nations comes not from the superiority of
their armaments, but from their willingness to allow and aid the greatness of
others."
Decker listened closely, anticipating the pauses and hoping for the applause he
expected each line would draw. Although at the U.N. the timing of applause can
sometimes be embarrassingly delayed by the translation to another language,
Decker was not disappointed. Clearly the motion would do well.
In the end, the vote turned, as history so often does, on an ironic twist of
fate. Sixty years before, the Soviet Union had insisted that two of her states,
the Byelorussian S.S.R. and the Ukrainian S.S.R., be granted admission to the
General Assembly with the full rights of sovereign nations. At the time it had
been a way for the U.S.S.R. to gain two extra votes in the General Assembly.
Today the independent Ukraine cast the deciding vote to expropriate Russia's
seat on the Security Council. The motion passed.
One week later
The vote to reorganize the Security Council did not mark the completion of the
effort, but only the beginning of a new phase. Now that the motion had carried,
the press from around the world were calling, wanting information about this man
who likely would become the new Secretary-General. Decker brought in extra
personnel to support the more routine functions of the effort, but he was wary
of delegating too much. As he went over a press release for the third time, he
realized he had no idea what he was reading. He was just too tired. Closing his
eyes, he slumped down in the chair and thought back to his days at the Knoxville
Enterprise. It had been a long time since he had worked this hard.
Unnoticed, Jackie Hansen had entered the room and was now standing directly
behind his chair. As he sat with his eyes closed, she reached down and placed
her long slender fingers on his shoulders. Decker jumped but seeing Jackie's
smiling face, relaxed as she began to massage his tired, knotted muscles. "Oh,
that feels good," he said gratefully. "I'll give you just twenty minutes to stop
it." Itwasanold joke but Jackie laughed anyway.
"Your back is one solid knot," Jackie said, sympathetically. "I'll bet you're
tired."
Decker started to nod his head but decided it might interrupt the massage and
instead answered, "uh huh."
"My father really appreciates all the work you're doing. He told me you were
working so hard that sometimes he wasn't sure which of you was trying to get
elected." Decker appreciated the compliment. It was nice to know his work was
appropriately acknowledged. He smiled up at Jackie, then closed his eyes again
to concentrate on the relaxing feel of her hands. Suddenly she stopped. "You
know what you need to really relax?" she asked, rhetorically.
"What's that?" Decker responded.
"Well, whenever I get real tense, I meditate." Jackie started to rub his
shoulders again. "I may seem pretty relaxed to you most of the time, but I used
to be a jumble of nerves. When I first started to work here I was so concerned
about doing a good job. I didn't want people thinking that the only reason I had
the job was because my father was the ambassador." Jackie found a knot and began
rubbing in circles to work it out. "That's when I met Lorraine from the French
Mission. She invited me to a go to a meditation class at the Lucius Trust."
Jackie stopped again and looked at her watch. "Oh, my gosh," she said in
surprise, "speaking of the Lucius Trust: it's 7:55. If I don't hurry I'm going
to be late. I've missed the last three weeks because of work; I really don't
want to miss tonight."
"Miss what?" asked Decker.
"My meditation class," Jackie answered. "It meets at the Lucius Trust every
Wednesday. Tonight Alice Bernley, the director of the Trust, is going to show
new members how to reach their inner consciousness, the source of creativity.
It's like an inner guide."
"Oh," Decker said, making no attempt to hide the fact that he had no idea what
Jackie was talking about.
"Come with me."
"Uh ... I don't know, Jackie. I'm not really into this New Age stuff. I'm pretty
square, I guess."
"Oh, come on," she insisted, as she took his hand and gave it a tug. "Really, I
think you'll enjoy it. When you leave there tonight you'll be more relaxed than
you've been in weeks. I find it helps me reach a higher plane of thinking. It
frees my creative mental processes."
Decker sighed. "Well, I guess I could use some of that, but we'll just have to
be a little late. I refuse to run."
The class had already started when they arrived. Quietly Jackie moved through
the crowd of about a hundred and fifty people, pulling Decker along, until they
reached two empty chairs. Around them people sat silently with eyes closed, some
with their legs crossed, all listening intently to the speaker. They seemed
totally unaware that others were around them. Even in the subdued light, Decker
recognized nearly two dozen of the attendees as U.N. Delegates. The speaker was
Alice Bernley, an attractive woman in her late forties with long flowing red
hair. "Just sit down, close your eyes, and listen," Jackie whispered.
It was easy enough to relax in the deep comfortable chairs. Decker listened to
the speaker and tried to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. "In the
blackness ahead of you," Bernley was saying, "is a small point of light just
coming into view. As you walk closer to the light, you are beginning to narrow
the distance, and the light is growing brighter and warmer." Decker became aware
of a soft, barely audible hum, almost like a cat's purr, coming from those
around him. As he closed his eyes, to his amazement, he too, saw a light. It was
very distant, but it was clearly visible. He wondered at the sight, and in his
mind it did seem as if the light was getting closer, or possibly he was getting
closer to it. He was certain it was all just a mental picture painted by the
woman, but he was surprised at how open he was to her suggestion. It must be
from lack of sleep, he thought briefly. The woman's delicate voice seemed to
softly caress his ears. "Approach the light," the woman continued, and Decker
did. "Soon you will find that it has led you to a beautiful place: a garden." In
his mind Decker followed her words and soon he saw it.
Bernley went on at some length describing every detail of the garden. It was so
clear, so real and precisely described that later, as Decker looked back to this
event and thought of all the others in the room, his greatest wonder — though
logically he knew better — was that so many could be sharing the same vision so
clearly and yet each was totally alone, each in his own garden. Even in his
memory the place seemed so real that he expected to see others from the room
there with him.
"Just beyond the shining pool of water you see someone approaching." Decker
looked but saw no one. "It may be a person," Bernley continued, "but for many
people it will be an animal; perhaps a bird or a rabbit, or perhaps a horse or
even a unicorn. What form it takes is unimportant. Do not be afraid; even if it
is a lion. It will not hurt you. It is there to help you; to guide you when you
have questions." Still, Decker saw no one. "When it has come close enough, talk
to it, ask it anything you would like to know, and it will answer. You might
start by asking its name. As some of you know, my spirit guide is a Tibetan
Master who goes by the name Dj'wlij Kajm. For some, your spirit guide may be a
bit more shy. You may have to coax it out; not by speaking to it, but by
listening. So listen. Listen very closely." Decker listened. He moved closer to
the pool, trying to hear. Bernley's voice had fallen silent, apparently to allow
those with 'shy' spirit guides to listen more closely. Still, he saw and heard
nothing.
It was not that there was nothing there. If they had spoken any louder, he
surely would have heard. "Why does no one approach him?" one of the voices
whispered. "The Master forbids it," another voice answered. "He has special
plans for this one."
Bernley remained silent for another eight or ten minutes. For a while, Decker
continued to try to hear or see the guide Bernley said he would find, but when
she spoke again he opened his eyes and realized that he had fallen asleep. "Now
say farewell to your new friend but thank him, and let him know you'll return
soon." Decker watched the others in the group as Bernley brought them back from
this expedition of the mind. In a moment everyone opened their eyes and looked
around. Everyone was smiling. Some hugged those around them. A few wept openly.
Decker looked over at Jackie Hansen, who seemed to be nearly floating. From a
corner of the room someone began to applaud and soon the whole room was filled
with applause. "Thank you, thank you," Bernley said graciously, "but you really
should be applauding yourselves for having the courage to open your minds to the
unknown. Now, whenever you need guidance on something that you just don't know
how to handle, all you have to do is go to a quiet place for a few moments,
close your eyes, and open your mind. Seek out your guide at every opportunity
and ask it the questions which you can't answer. What you are doing is allowing
the creative nature that is within all of us to do what it most wants to do:
provide visionary solutions to the problems in your life."
Some of Bernley's assistants brought in refreshments and everyone began to talk
together in small groups about what they had experienced. Decker politely
thanked Jackie for the invitation and told her that he had found the experience
interesting, but said he really needed to get back to work. She seemed surprised
that he was leaving but did not try to stop him.
As soon as Decker left, Alice Bernley called to Jackie, who quickly made her way
across the room. Without speaking, Bernley took Jackie's arm and led her to a
quiet corner where they would not be overheard. "Was that Decker Hawthorne with
you?" Bernley asked, sounding a little concerned.
"Yes," Jackie answered. "I asked him if he'd like to sit in on the class. Did I
do the wrong thing?"
"No. It's okay. Actually, it was my fault. I should have told you: The Tibetan
has made it very clear that Decker Hawthorne is not to be a part of the Trust.
The Master has special plans for Mr. Hawthorne."
New York, the Israeli Mission
As Jon Hansen was shown into the office, Ambassador Hartzog sat at his desk,
talking on the phone. It was an obvious snub for the Israeli Ambassador not to
greet him and Hansen recognized that this was not a positive sign. As Hansen
waited he couldn't help but overhear Hartzog's conversation, which didn't sound
like very important business. This made the snub all the worse; if he had been
talking to his wife, Hansen would have written this off, but to be talking
business on the phone with some bureaucrat while a guest Ambassador waited was
inexcusable. What made it even worse was that undoubtedly Hartzog realized that
Hansen was not only a fellow Delegate; he most probably would be the next
Secretary-General.
Nearly three minutes later the Israeli Ambassador finally hung up the phone and
joined Hansen. He made no apology for the delay and immediately began by calling
Hansen by his first name, even though the two had never been formally introduced
— the Israeli Ambassador having just been assigned to the U.N. What a cheeky
ass, thought Hansen.
"So, Jon, what have you come to offer us?"
Hansen held his temper like a true Englishman. "Reason, Mr. Ambassador. Reason."
"You have brought me a reason that Israel should cut her own throat?" Hartzog
asked, mockingly.
"No. I have..."
Ambassador Hartzog cut off Hansen before he could even begin. "Ambassador
Hansen," he said, now becoming formal, "my government considers the decision by
the General Assembly to reorganize the Security Council along regional lines a
noble gesture. It is, unfortunately, one with which we cannot abide. Did it not
cross your mind that by restructuring the Security Council on a regional basis
and then grouping Israel with the other nations of the Middle East, you would
force us into a position where we would constantly be at the mercy of our Arab
neighbors? In case you were not aware, Israel has a Jewish population of four
million. We are surrounded by twenty-three Arab nations with a total population
of two hundred and thirty-five million. Now, tell me, just what do you think
Israel's chances are of having a representative on the Security Council who is
favorable to our country?" Hartzog paused and then added, "Most of those
bastards still haven't acknowledged that Israel even exists!"
"But leaving the U.N. is not the answer, Mr. Ambassador," Hansen said, finally
getting a word in.
"Unless you can make some guarantees ... perhaps by increasing the number of
seats on the Security Council to eleven and guaranteeing that seat to Israel . .
." Hartzog paused for Hansen's reaction. He was certain Hansen would never agree
to such a proposal, but as Hartzog saw it, he had nothing to lose.
"You know we can't do that," Hansen responded. "It would destroy the whole
restructuring. There's no way we can make that kind of an exception for Israel
without setting the precedent for others wanting the same exception for
themselves." Hansen didn't mention it but there was another precedent he didn't
want to set: that of having a nation leave the U.N. It had never been done
before.
"Then there seems little choice," Hartzog concluded.
"Mr. Ambassador, if Israel leaves the U.N., you will be giving in to the very
countries you fear. They'd like nothing more than to see Israel out of the
United Nations."
"Unfortunately you are correct. But neither can we stay."
The conversation did not improve and Hansen left without having gained an inch
of ground. When he returned to his office he was met by Decker Hawthorne. "How'd
it go?" Decker asked.
"Not well," Hansen answered in understatement. "Israel is just too damn cheeky
about what happened with the Russian Federation."
"But they've acknowledged that their strategic defense had nothing to do with
the premature detonation of the Soviet Missiles, so what do they have to be so
arrogant about?" Decker really wanted to say 'cheeky' too, instead of
'arrogant,' but he didn't think he could say it without sounding as though he
was poking fun.
"The official position of the Knesset is that the destruction of the Russian
missiles was a miracle of God."
"You don't think the Israeli ambassador actually believes that, do you?" asked
Decker.
"The point is, a great many of the Israeli people believe it." Hansen said and
then shook his head and sighed. "Hell, I can't really blame them for their
response to restructuring, though. It doesn't offer them much to look forward
to."