Project J (29 page)

Chapter 50:
 
Side Trip

After an exciting day, Jesus napped most of the way back to their rented house.
 
Since it was evening when the Beechjet landed, they had an early dinner in Albuquerque at a steakhouse called “Rancher’s Roadhouse”.
 
Jesus enjoyed his first T-bone steak along with a new wine.
 
He was quite worn out on the trip back.

The next day was spent mostly sleeping late and enjoying the scenery.
 
Jesus and Tamara took a walk across the grassy meadow and through some of the pine forest.
 
Apparently he had seen pine trees before, but not quite such tall ones.
 
He seemed fascinated with the variety and quantity of wild life, from chipmunks to deer.
 
Tamara made a mental note to take him to a good zoo some day.

They did not talk much, there being the language barrier and all, but it was a peaceful, enjoyable time for both of them.
 
Occasionally Jesus would point to something and look at her, and then she would tell him what it was in English.
 
He would repeat the word twice, and then go on.
 
He laughed when she told him that little furry creature with the bushy tail was a squirrel.
 
All she could think of was that the word meant something else in Aramaic.
 
After a while she tried reversing the game.
 
She pointed to a flower or an animal and lifted her eyebrows at him.
 
Usually he would say something that she would try to repeat, but a couple times he simply shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he did not know what it was.
 
A few times she caught him looking at a high flying airliner making contrails in the blue.
 
Flying must be something pretty special to someone who had always assumed that it was impossible for a human to leave the ground.

When they got back, Juliette informed them that Stryker had called and it was safe to return to the project.
 
Apparently, Stockman had not taken as long as he might have.
 
Also, they were told, he left with no intention of bothering the project again.
 
The three of them speculated on what might have caused his sudden change of heart.
 
Something drastic, was all they could come up with.

They decided to make a side trip on the way back.
 
Actually, it was a bit out of the way since where they were going was on the other side of Project Dry Wells, but all agreed that it would be an interesting visit and worth the time.
 
So, after packing their bags, they drove off to the old town of Santa Fe, which Myers translated for Jesus: Holy Faith.

Santa Fe is a city that revels in its past.
 
Everywhere one looked there were ancient buildings in the Spanish style – and tourists.
 
Tamara had done a little research on the Internet the night before and knew just where she wanted to take Jesus.
 
They parked, and walked along a red stone wall to a set of stairs that led to a double towered Spanish church, also done in red stone blocks.
 
Myers read the sign for Jesus: “The Cathedral Basilica of Saint Francis of Assisi.”

To the left of the steps was a bronze statue of Saint Francis, standing there with one hand held out and the other resting on the back of a wolf.
 
Jesus asked who that was and was told.
 
There seemed to be a little confusion about what a saint was and why the man had a wolf for a pet.
 
An explanation of sorts took place while they were walking up to steps to the impressive front door.
 
The statue seemed to bother him.
 
Myers had to remind him that this was a church, but not a Jewish one.
 
Images were accepted here where they would not have been in his day.

Inside the church was built as most Catholic churches were, in the shape of a cross.
 
Rows of wooden seats led up to an altar, while pillars supported a high, vaulted ceiling.
 
Stained glass windows allowed colorful light to spill into the church.
 
When they neared the back, the altar held a small statue of Jesus with a panel behind him picturing fifteen saints.
 
The statue showed Jesus holding a cross in one hand and the other raised upward to the sky.
 
He had a most suffering expression on his upturned face.
 
Jesus looked at that and shook his head.
 
They sat down in a pew with Myers on one side and Tamara on the other.
 
She told him that this was one of the fancier churches, but was still built to honor God and was a place to worship him.
 
She told him that the priests did good in the world, and that the gilt trim, elaborate colored windows and works of art were there to show the people the glory of God.
 
Jesus slowly shook his head.

“This is as the priests in the Temple were.
 
Rich and fat and always taking money from the people.
 
Do people sacrifice to God here?”

“They pray to God here,” Myers told him.

Jesus looked around, and his eyes came to rest on a statue hung on the wall, a depiction of Jesus hanging on the cross.
 
There were nails through his palms and crossed feet.
 
His long hair and the crown of thorns upon his head were done with wonderful detail, as was each muscle in his body.
 
The artist had even caught an amazing look of suffering in his eyes.
 
For a long time Jesus looked at the figure, saying nothing, and oblivious to the handful of tourists or worshipers around them.
 
Finally, he looked to Myers, then Tamara and said, “That is not what it was like.”
 
He looked down at the leather bands around his wrists.

“They do not know how it was,” Myers told him, “only that you suffered for your people.
 
That is what this statue means to them, your sacrifice for them.”

“This is not a synagogue,” Jesus said simply.
 
“Not a holy place.”

“It is to these people.
 
They worship differently, but they believe in you and your teachings.”

Jesus took one last long look around, and then said, “Let us go from this place.”

Tamara was on the verge of tears.
 
She had hoped to impress Jesus with how people worshiped today.
 
But it would seem that it had done the opposite.

As they were walking out, Juliette pulled out her cell phone and snapped a few photos of Jesus, even going to far as to ask him to stand next to the statue of Saint Francis for one shot.

As they walked back to the car, Juliette waved the cell phone, and told Tamara, “That’s a unique photo.
 
Jesus in a Catholic church!
 
And nobody recognized him!”

Tamara said nothing.

Chapter 51:
 
Alone in the Dark

What was going wrong?

In the dark apartment, alone, a man sat on the bed and hung his head.
 
Only a tiny, pathetic light came around the closed curtains, along with distant sounds of traffic.

He had done as they told him.
 
But the tablet with the video had not done what it was supposed to.
 
This false Jesus was still alive and being treated as an important dignitary by those who created him.
 
He had not reacted as he should have.
 
If anything, from what he could see, Jesus was more talkative, more at ease with the staff than before.
 
God only knew what lies he was telling, what blasphemies spewed from his mouth.

The man shuddered.
 
It was obvious that the Church wanted this fake Jesus stopped.
 
They had given him the tablet.
 
He had delivered it.
 
Now what?
 
They did not call him.
 
They did not tell him what to do.
 
Was he to decide himself?
 
And how could he?
 
He was just a simply believer.
 
But now, when he needed guidance from the Church most of all, there was no word.

During the last few years, it was the Church he had clung to, and that probably that saved his sanity.
 
His beloved wife had died at far too early an age, victim of a car crash that had left him with only bruises.
 
How could God have taken her for no reason?
 
Mona had been so full of life, so happy.
 
It had torn him up inside that he had lived while she died.
 
What possible reason could God have for wanting to take her but leaving him?
 
For a time it shook his faith to the core.
 
He prayed to be shown some reason behind the tragedy.
 
But no reply came.
 
Beginning to doubt all that he had held as true, he almost turned from the Church, and would have but for one minister who spent many hours trying to help the man come through his crisis of faith.

The kindly words of that man had shown him the truth he sought.
 
It was really simple: man was not meant to understand God’s ways.
 
One had to trust and allow God to fill his heart with love.
 
Only then would the pain flow away.
 
He became as he had been as a child, comforted by the love of the Church and the peace found in true belief.
 
It took more than a year but his faith returned.
 
He joined the Project Dry Wells, worked hard to do the best job he could, and tried to forget his beloved wife.
 
Then came that terrible moment in which they had created this copy of Jesus – this lie that walked and talked.
 
Filled with doubts about this, he turned again to the only comfort he knew: the Church.

But now it seemed the Church had abandoned him.
 
They had not called.
 
And something must be done or soon the world would know of this false Christ.
 
Maybe he should contact them again.
 
His hand reached for the cell phone but withdrew after a few seconds.
 
They had told him that they would contact him.
 
It would not be right for him to go against their orders.

He had not turned on any lights when the sunset faded into night.
 
It was better to sit alone in the darkness, feeling the agony of indecision, and fearing that to do nothing would be the worst thing he could do.

Someone on the project was leaking information!
 
Word had gotten around as to why that Congressman had visited that very morning.
 
He knew of the project and was investigating.
 
The Congressman had left, but perhaps he would be back.
 
There was talk that the project would be announced to the world soon.
 
That would be terrible.
 
The people knowing of this fake Jesus could not be allowed to happen.
 
The Bishop himself had told him that.

He was a scientist.
 
He had helped formulate some of the theory behind using the entanglement to create matter in the present.
 
And he knew that this was only a copy.
 
It was not possible that the real essence of Jesus had been copied.
 
It could not be.
 
The real Jesus was divine.
 
The Son of God.
 
He believed that with all his heart.

His cell phone chiming made him jump.
 
With trembling hand he picked it up.
 
“Hello?”

It was the voice of the Bishop.
 
“You have said that there is talk of the project going public?
 
Is that true?”

“Yes, your Excellency.”

“Will that be soon?”

“Possibly, your Excellency.”

There was a silence for long, agonizing seconds, then, “That must not be allowed to happen.”
 
A pause, then, “Do you understand?”

“Yes...
 
Your Excellency.”

“Do whatever you have to.”

“Yes.
 
Does that mean...?”

“Do whatever you have to.”

“Yes, your Excellency.”

“Have faith to do what you must,” the calm voice went on.
 
“This is the wish of his Holiness,” it lied.
 
“May God guide your hand.”

“Yes, your Excellency.”

The phone went silent.

The man put his phone down and resumed staring at the wall.
 
Yet, although he trembled with fear, his heart was gladdened.
 
Now he knew what he had to do.