The Mark: The Beast Rules The World (19 page)

Chaim sat shaking his head. “I can hardly believe that the two people who dared attack Nicolae are in the same room. But in the end you could not do it. I did it with

enthusiasm, and even up to the time I finally saw my need for God, I was glad I did it. Now I suffer such regret and shame I can barely breathe.”

“Can you take no solace in the fact that this was destiny, and that you cannot be guilty of murdering a man who is alive?”

“Solace? I would give all I own for a moment of peace. It isn’t whom I did this to, Rayford. It is that I did it. I did not know the depth of my own wickedness.”

“And yet God has saved you.”

“Tell me, is one supposed to feel forgiven?”

“Good question. I have faced the same dilemma. I have full faith in the power of God to forgive and forget, to separate us from our sins as far as the east is from the west. But I’m human too. / don’t forget and thus often I don’t appropriate the forgiveness God extends. Because we feel guilty does not mean God does not have the power to absolve us.”

“But Tsion tells me I may have a greater destiny, that I just might be the one to be used to lead my believing countrymen to safety from Antichrist. How could he say that and how could I do such a thing when I feel the way I do?”

Rayford stood. “Perhaps the fallacy is in thinking it would have to be you who accomplishes this.”

“I would love to be out from under the weight of it, but as Tsion says, who else? He himself cannot risk it.”

“I’m saying it’s something God is going to do, through you.”

“But who am I? A scientist. I am not eloquent. I don’t know the Word of God. I barely know God. I was not even a religious Jew until just days ago.”

“Yet as a child you must have been exposed to the Torah.”

“Of course.”

“If Tsion is right, and not even he is sure, this could be your burning-bush experience.”

“No one will ever see me as Moses.”

“Are you willing to let God use you? Because if Tsion is right and you do what he thinks you should do, you would be a modern-day Moses.”

“Ach!”

“You could be used of God to flee the evil ruler and take your people to a safe haven.”

Chaim moaned and lay down again.

“Moses pled the same case you’re pleading,” Rayford said. “The question is whether you are willing.”

“I know.”

“You’re right. You were depraved. We all were, until Christ saved us. God can make a miracle of your life.”

Chaim mumbled.

“I’m sorry?” Rayford said.

“I said I want to be willing. I am willing to be willing.”

“That’s a start.”

“But God is going to have to do something in me.”

“He already has.”

“But more. I could no more accept this assignment now than I could fly. The person who accepts this duty must have a clear conscience, confidence that comes only from God, and communication ability far beyond what I have ever possessed. I was able to hold forth in a classroom, but to speak to thousands as Tsion has done, to publicly oppose Antichrist himself, to rally the masses to do what is right? I don’t see it. I just don’t.” “But you are willing to trust God to work?” “He is my only hope. I am at the end of myself.”

At high noon Carpathia Time in New Babylon, David left the palace and went outside for the first time in days. He was to have his stitches removed at two that afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing Hannah Palemoon again, even in a sterile setting where they might not be able to converse freely.

The heat reminded David of the day of Nicolae’s resurrection. It didn’t seem right to stroll the grounds of the spectacular palace without Annie. His pain was so raw and the ache so deep that it made his scalp wound fade to insignificance. Hannah had told him that the removal of the bandage would be worse than the removal of the stitches. His uniform cap protected the wound from the sun, but David’s body began to heat up in his dress uniform, and the memories of his trauma floated back.

The decimation of the world’s population was reflected in the workforce at GC headquarters. What had once been its own bustling metropolis was now a shell of itself. The crowds that used to consist of enthusiastic employees were now made up of tourists and pilgrims, necks craned to catch a glimpse of someone famous.

In the distance David saw visitors crowded around one of the outdoor TV monitors that broadcast GC news twenty-four hours a day. He moseyed over and stood unnoticed at the back. The new Most High Reverend of Carpathianism, Leon Fortunato, held forth from his new office.

David could only shake his head. Leon stood before a pulpit-type lectern, but his height had seemed to change. A husky, swarthy man a tick under six feet tall, Leon wore a long burgundy-and-navy robe that flattered his physique. But when the late Peter Mathews-in a gaudy, silly-looking robe-had stood at the same podium, he had looked shorter than Leon, despite that he was several inches over six feet. Leon had to be standing on some sort of box or platform!

He reported on the worldwide competition to see which locales and regions led in the race to complete their replicas of the Carpathia statue. Of course, the United Carpathian States had an insurmountable lead, but the rest of the world competed for second place.

The report was dotted with feeds from all over the globe, showing how many communities had tried to make unique their version of the statue. Regulations stipulated that the replicas had to be at least life-size and monochromatic, but none could be as large as the original. Past that, local committees were free to exercise creativity. Most of the statues were black, but many were gold, some crystal, some fiberglass, one green, one orange, and several were twice life-size (or half the size of the original). Fortunato seemed particularly pleased with those two and announced plans to personally visit those sites.

“In the interest of full disclosure, it falls to me to report that while Israel has several replica statues in cities as disparate as Haifa and Tel Aviv, Jerusalem has not even begun theirs.” Leon switched into his deep bass, solemn voice. “Speaking under the authority of the risen potentate, I say woe! Woe and beware to the enemies of the lord of this globe who would thumb their noses in the face of the most high!”

Here he switched to Uncle Leon mode, sounding like a beloved relative reading a bedtime story. “But you know, while I have been imbued with power from on high to perform all the miracles that our beloved leader performs, and whereas I have proven this power by calling down fire from heaven to destroy the disloyal, your lord, His Excellency, is the embodiment of love and forgiveness and long-suffering. Against my counsel and better judgment, though I defer to his divine wisdom, the Supreme Potentate has asked me to announce that he knows he has devout followers in the capital of the Holy Land. Their loving lord shall not forget those loyal pilgrims, suffering under the insanity and subversion of the very leaders who have been charged with responsibility for the spiritual health of their souls.

“One week from today, the object of our adoration shall personally visit his children in Jerusalem. He will be there not only to deal forthrightly with those who oppose him-for he is, besides being a loving god, a just god-but also to bless and accept worship and praise from the citizens otherwise without voice.

“As your global pastor, let me urge the countless oppressed Carpathianists living under the thumb of misguided rebels in Jerusalem to bravely show your support to the one worthy of all honor and glory when he arrives in your home city. May it be a triumphal entry like none before it. Let me, on his behalf, personally guarantee your safety and protection against any form of retribution you might otherwise have suffered for your doing the right thing in the face of powerful opposition.

“We know that the leadership there has a thin majority of Judah-ites and Orthodox Jews who risk the vengeance of their god by continuing with their suicidal lunacy. Unless they see the error of their ways and come on bent knee to beg forgiveness of their lord, new leadership will be in place before His Excellency leaves that great city.

“And to those who swear that the temple is off-limits to the potentate himself, I say, dare not come against the army of the lord of hosts. He is a god of peace and reconciliation, but thou shalt have no other gods before him. There shall not be erected or allowed to stand any house of worship anywhere on this planet that does not recognize His Excellency as its sole object of devotion. Nicolae Carpathia, the potentate, is risen!”

The crowd around the TV shouted the customary response, and David said silently, “Jesus the Christ is risen indeed.”

Fortunato reminded the world that within two days, all statues must be completed and open for worship. “And, as you know, the first one hundred cities with finished and approved units will be the first to be awarded loyalty mark application centers.”

Leon had aides bring into view a flip chart he could reach from whatever he was standing on, and David noticed that as they came into view, his proximity made him look seven feet tall. Fortunato used a pointer to show the standard mark application facility. It contained a staging area, where several thousand at a time would be herded through crowd-control barriers, entertained by taped speeches from Carpathia and Fortunato. Every four minutes, a replay would show Fortunato’s calling down fire from heaven on dissidents and Carpathia’s actual resurrection. He paused to let the tape roll, and David had to look away. The tourists cheered the broadcast.

Fortunato returned to his demonstration drawing. The citizens would feed into a dozen or two dozen open-air booths-depending on the size of the city and the crowd-where they would be asked to decide on the design and size of their mark and whether they wanted it on their foreheads or the backs of their right hands.

“A friendly reminder,” Fortunato said with a grin. “Should you procrastinate on your decision or forget due to your excitement, the standard injection will be made on your right hand, depicting the prefix that identifies your region, next to the thin scar that evidences injection of the biochip.

“We have been asked repeatedly how we are precluding counterfeit marks. While it may be impossible for any but highly skilled and trained observers to tell a fake mark from the real, biochip scanners cannot be fooled. We are so confident of the 100 percent reliability of this technology that anyone whose biochip is not authenticated by a scanner will be subject to execution without appeal. A readable, implanted biochip will be required for standard trade and commerce.

“And yes, we will have loyalty enforcement facilitators at every mark application site.”

To David’s surprise, this announcement was illustrated by footage of a huge, gleaming guillotine, and Fortunato actually punctuated it with a hearty laugh. “I can’t imagine any citizen of the Global Community having to worry about such a device, unless he or she is still mired in the cult of the Judah-ites or Orthodox Judaism. Frankly, only the blind or those without access to television have not seen the resurrection of our god and ruler, so I can’t imagine skeptics remain outside Jerusalem. Well, as you can see,” and he laughed again, “they will not remain long.”

Fortunato then hefted a huge stack of letters and printouts. “These, my friends, are applications from those who want to be first to show their loyalty to His Excellency by proudly having their marks applied right here in New Babylon. Any citizen from any region may have his or her mark applied here, though the code number will coincide with your home region. There is a limit to the number we can accommodate, so get your application in quickly or plan to have yours applied in your local center.

“Does the application hurt? It does not. With technology so advanced and local anesthesia so effective, you will ‘feel only the pressure of the biochip inserter. By the time any discomfort would have passed, the anesthetic will still be working.

“Bless you, my friends, in the name of our risen lord and master, His Excellency the Potentate, Nicolae Carpathia.”

Rayford returned to his bed drowsier but still unable to sleep. He spent an hour noodling assignments for the Force and finally concluded that Albie and Buck ought to go to Greece. He needed to stay for the sake of morale, and Buck needed to be able to expose the close-mindedness of the Carpathia regime.

With that settled, Rayford drifted off, planning to get Buck yet another new ID from Zeke in the morning and assign David a little more way-paving from his perch in New Babylon.

David informed the head of Food Services that Supreme Commander Hickman had need of the largest live pig available for Carpathia’s Israel visit. Then he stopped in his office to check his computer before his appointment with Hannah. He found an urgent E-mail from Ming Toy.

“I did not know whom else to write to,” she said. “I was distraught to hear of your loss and can only pray God’s strength for you. I cannot imagine your pain.

“Mr. Hassid, have you seen my family since I left there? Last I heard, they had not seen you. I am most troubled. They have been awarded free accommodations until Chang has been processed for employment, and my father is thrilled beyond words. Mother is silent as usual, but I have heard directly from Chang, and he is desperate. He says the last thing he wants is to work for the GC, yet my father insists. Having his son serve Carpathia is the highest honor he can imagine.

“Chang has heard that all employees will receive the mark within a few weeks, but there is a rumor that new employees hired during this time may be the first to have it applied. Have you heard that? Could it be true? It makes sense in its own way. Why hire someone without knowing up front that they are loyal? And it saves their losing work time later just to stand in line for their marks.

“Father is insistent that Chang initiate his paperwork through Personnel immediately and is eager to see him among the very first to take the mark, especially if Father can witness this himself. Chang is ready to admit to my father that he is a believer in Jesus and, yes, could accurately be called a Judah-ite, but he is afraid of two things. One, that Father would report him, and two, that he would demand to know the truth about me. Trust me, Mr. Hassid; I know my father. He would sell us both out to prove his loyalty to Carpathia and the GC.