The next day, Zane took his first final exam, and he knew he did pretty well. After lunch he headed to his theology class with some trepidation. Entering class, Zane took his seat and found his paper on his desk. Opening the cover sheet, he saw a large F scrawled across the front page. There was nothing else.
Looking up, he saw the professor quickly look away. Zane tried to make eye contact, but the professor ignored him. All during class, Professor Donaldson ignored Zane. By the time class was over, Zane was upset. The professor had never acted this way, and frankly, it was strange. Why would a paper from one of his students make him act in the manner he had for the past hour? Even some of the other students were noticing his peculiarity. After class was dismissed, Zane waited until the rest of the class had left. If the professor had a problem with his paper, he wanted to know exactly what it was. Goodness knew he wanted to be proven wrong on what he had found.
Walking up to the professor’s desk he asked, “Mr. Donaldson, do you have a minute? I would like to discuss the grade you gave me on my research paper.”
The professor looked up without his usual warmth and replied, “What exactly do you want to discuss, Mr. Harrison? I thought I made it pretty obvious what I thought about your paper.”
Zane was taken aback. Professor Donaldson was acting completely out of character.
“Sir, what exactly did you find in my paper which you thought deserved an F?”
Donaldson pushed back from his desk. “Do you need to ask that, Mr. Harrison? This is a Christian university, and I want no part of someone undermining our ideals.”
“Sir, with all due respect, what exactly did you find incorrect in my research?”
“What did I find wrong with your research?” the professor asked with added heat in his voice. “You’ve taken one of the central messianic prophecies of the Scripture and done your best to undermine its credibility! This might pass for credible research at some godless institution, but not here.”
Zane was turning red in the face. He was not sure whether it was from embarrassment or anger. “Sir, I respectfully ask you to give a specific example where my research was faulty. So far you have spoken in generalities and not specifics.”
The professor exploded. “How dare you challenge me, young man! You are wrong because you missed the context!”
Zane stood his ground. He didn’t want to be disrespectful, but the professor’s attitude was completely uncalled for. Calmly, he asked again, “Sir, what exactly do you mean by context?”
“Mr. Harrison,” the professor said more calmly, trying to regain some of his composure, “I don’t have time for your word games. I don’t want any part of your attempts to undermine the credibility of the Scriptures concerning the Messiah.”
“Sir, I have done no such thing. I have questioned man-made interpretations of the prophecy of seventy weeks, but I have in no way called into question the integrity of the Scriptures. None of us have all the answers, sir, and no one is perfect in their understanding. All I have done is challenge man-made assertions which do not meet a reasonable burden of scriptural proof.”
The professor raised his hand and pointed to the door. “Class is over, Mr. Harrison, and I don’t have time for you to lecture me on burdens of proof.”
Zane started to speak again, but the professor again pointed to the door. “You are dismissed, Mr. Harrison.”
Zane walked out the door, knowing that if he stayed he would likely end up saying something he would regret. Trying to calm down, he reminded himself that even if the professor’s actions were uncalled for, he was still his professor as well as his elder, and he should not be disrespectful. His next class passed in a blur—he was still pretty upset, and glad he didn’t have another final exam today. He was not in a proper state of mind.
After classes, Zane walked around campus for two hours. Finally he calmed down enough to think fairly about the professor’s reaction. Clearly, Zane had seriously challenged some of the professor’s strongly held beliefs. Beliefs, Zane realized, that he must not have been able to defend. Otherwise he would have rationally explained where Zane had been incorrect in his reasoning.
Finally, Zane sat down on the grass, his back against a tree, and prayed. Father, please help me to have the proper attitude in this matter. Show me if I am wrong. Help me to set a proper example by my actions. Help me to be humble, and please give me wisdom and discernment. I ask in Jesus’s name, Father.
Zane leaned his head against the tree and relaxed. A peace settled over him as he sat there, and when he got up he felt much better.
Chapter 55
Phoenix, Arizona
The latest results from Sam’s virus showed that thirty-five different locations were downloading encrypted pictures off the Internet using the Anaj software. Most of the locations were downloading encrypted messages at least once a week. To Sam, it looked like quite an extensive intelligence network. He had tracked most of the addresses, and he had a printout in his hand.
It was time to send his findings to David.
Part of the reason Sam had held off so long was that he knew David would play this by the book and show no favoritism. What Sam had done was technically illegal, but since it was overseas, he hoped it was not a high-enforcement crime. When he sent it to David, he knew David would send it upstairs come what may. Well, so be it. If this information was related to a terrorist network, then law enforcement needed to know.
Sam addressed a new e-mail:
David,
You know I am not one to sit around when there is something I can do. What I am sending you is borderline, if you know what I mean. I accept total responsibility for what I have done, but the results were so important I thought you ought to know.
I wrote a, well, let’s just call it a creative program. I inserted this creative program in a picture file. Then I, well, let’s just say I donated this picture to a certain Ukrainian web hosting company for free. This Ukrainian hosting company has been known to send out junk mail to recipients all over the world. Anyway, once any computer downloads my picture, my creative program searches that computer for the Anaj encryption software and attaches itself to the program. Every time the Anaj program is used, it saves a record of it and sends it out the next time that computer connects to the Internet. In the attached file you will find the latest results. I think your team will be interested in them. FWIW, as you will see there are still several contacts in the New York area who are using the Anaj software. Also of note is that Israel has at least eight contacts using this network as well.
Bro, I know you play it by the book, and I would be disappointed with you if didn’t, so don’t worry about me. Give this info to whoever you need to. If you guys get your act together, no offense ;), you might have a intelligence coup here. This network appears to be really active.
Happy hunting.
Sam
Sam hit send and closed down his e-mail client. David would see that the information got to the right people.
Sam sat at his desk thinking about the events of the past several months. Aquarius Elemental Solutions had been the catalyst for so many changes in the world it was hard to wrap his mind around the consequences. Sam knew governments, think tanks, and individuals the world over were still trying to figure out all the implications. Darius Zarindast had taken the entire planet by surprise. Now they were all just trying to update their thinking.
Many of the most powerful people and organizations in the world had been left out in the cold by AES. Surely, there would be consequences. The power brokers of the present would not allow Darius Zarindast to usurp their power and influence without a fight.
Sam knew instinctively that the longer everything went right for AES, the greater the trouble would be when it went wrong. And there was something about this whole thing that did not seem right. Darius was doing amazing things for the world. Heck, he was doing amazing things for Sam. Because of AES, Sam had made eleven million dollars. After long-term capital-gains tax
es, Sam would only have made 9.4 million dollars, but that was still quite a bit of money. Was Darius Zarindast really a good guy? Was Sam just crazy—blinded by his own addiction to conspiracy theories? Maybe it was the fact that Darius seemed almost too perfect. No one was perfect, so what was Darius hiding? The only newsperson Sam had found asking any serious questions about Darius Zarindast was Aaron Klein at WND. The rest of the world seemed to believe Darius was the Messiah.
Sam shook his head. What is your problem? he asked himself. Darius Zarindast has made you a fortune, and you are trying to find something to not like about him.
But then again, maybe it was his spirit warning him. Ever since Darius had said he thought Jesus was just another man like other men, Sam had been on guard. Zarindast’s philosophy seemed to be a form of secular humanism. No surprise there. “We the people of the world,” Darius had said. The same philosophy mankind had used since the ill-fated Tower of Babel. “Go to, let us,” had been the humanistic philosophy ever since then. The focus was on mankind’s efforts instead of the grace or will of YHWH. Sure, some would call that splitting hairs, but it really wasn’t. It was important. If this earth and the activities of mankind were directed solely by man’s efforts, then the will of YHWH was not relevant. On the other hand, if YHWH did take an active interest in the affairs of mankind and direct those affairs according to his purposes, then it was he who deserved the credit, not men.
Removing God from the equation removed any moral absolutes. It made morals relative. Without YHWH and his moral standards, mankind was no different from animals, and animals showed no mercy. If a man as powerful as Darius Zarindast held this philosophy, no matter his good intentions, his power was bound to end in bloodshed and horror.
Chapter 56
Zane was on his way home to Arizona. Sitting in the cramped airplane seat, he thought about the final two weeks of school. He had spent them in a flurry of activity, finishing all his exams and completing his final assignments. His parents had come for the graduation. It had been a beautiful, sunny day, and he knew he had made them proud. The journey had taken some detours along the way, but he had made it.
The only disappointment in this otherwise satisfying time was his theology professor. Professor Donaldson had not spoken a word or acknowledged him since their last discussion. Zane could feel the tension each time he entered class. His final grade had been a C. The research paper had been twenty-five percent of his grade, and his F had seriously hurt his final mark. Zane had come to terms with it and refused to let anger or bitterness grow in his heart. He had done his best—what more could he ask of himself?
This experience was giving him another perspective on college degrees, though. He was glad he had gone to college, but he realized as never before that no one man or institution was inerrant. An education was not twelve years of high school and a BS, MS, and PhD. An education was what each individual learned throughout his life. He was beginning to realize that a college degree, in many cases, was just a piece of paper which measured one man’s knowledge against another’s. No wonder the BSs, MSs, and PhDs of Jesus’s day hated him and the disciples so much. Those Pharisees and Sadducees had their degrees, and no “unlearned” men could tell them anything.
Father, keep me humble, he prayed silently. Help me to be open to your truth and not arrogant in my own ignorance. There was a proverb like that, he remembered. He turned on his computer and looked it up in his BibleWorks software program. Yes, there it was, Proverbs 15:33:
The fear of YHWH is the instruction of wisdom; and before honour is humility.
Zane read it several times. He understood the necessity of humility before honor, but what was the “fear of YHWH”? Zane typed another search string into the Bible software: fear* YHWH*. Scanning through the results, he found Proverbs 2. Reading it, he thought to himself, Wow, this is powerful. And it fits so well. He had read it before, of course. But now it seemed to speak straight to his circumstances.
My son, if thou wilt receive my words, and hide my commandments with thee; so that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding; yea, if thou criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding; if thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures; then shalt thou understand the fear of YHWH, and find the knowledge of God. For YHWH giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding.
Zane was a treasure hunter at heart. He had never thought of knowledge and understanding as “hid treasures,” though. If knowledge and understanding came from the mouth of YHWH, then what better place to hunt for real treasure than the words of YHWH found in the Scripture? Zane laughed happily—now he had a whole new avenue of archeology open to him. Yes, he would start his own archeology dig into the words of YHWH. He would carefully excavate the pages and sift the finds. Who knew what treasures he might find?
He was almost home now. He was looking forward to spending time with his parents, digging in their gardens and caring for the plants. Gardening was such a metaphor for living.
Zane thought about the future. How was he going to pursue his love of archeology? He couldn’t always be a volunteer. He needed to find real, productive activity. He wanted to make his own way in life, make a difference, be everything his Father in heaven had created him to be. He was young, strong, willing, and healthy. How could he best use his talents? He almost chuckled at his own earnestness. He was sure these were the same questions young men and women had asked of themselves since . . . well, probably since the beginning.
One thing Zane had resolved was that he did not want to live off the money he had made from AQES. He only had a few thousand more shares to go, but it looked like he would have about four million dollars when all was said and done. He was going to take the half he had promised to YHWH right off the top. Before taxes, before anything. After taxes, he would have something in the range of 1.4 million dollars. That was a small fortune now, but it would not last forever. He needed to find a real means of income. His father had always impressed upon them that he should use whatever talents his Father in heaven had given him to the best of his ability before expecting God to bless him further. “Use the talents he has already given you wisely, and he will multiply them. Don’t expect to move on to the next step in your life if you are not doing the best where you are at.”
Okay, he would be patient, savor each day, and meet its challenges. When YHWH was ready to show him the next step, he would do his best to be ready.
Chapter 57
Marcus was looking at a replay of a video feed from a camera in the main sewer line under the bakery. Yitzhak, the video analyst in charge of analyzing all feeds from the cameras watching the sewer system, was playing the video on the command center’s main video display.
“Okay, here it comes,” he said. At the 2:54 a.m. mark, the video feed showed a reddish brown object floating down the line. As it drew close to the bakery, it was grabbed by an invisible force and crushed against the wall of the sewer pipe. Once the outside covering broke off, most of it was trapped against the wall of the pipe. The leaden capsule inside fell to the bottom of the sewer line.
“Clever,” Marcus muttered under his breath. They’d already figured out the capsules were water-soluble, but seeing it in action was still impressive. Even if those bastards somehow lost one of the little floaters, it would disintegrate before it reached the treatment plant, leaving the small leaden capsule lying on the bottom of the sewer line. Chances were no one would ever think twice about a little grayish-looking piece of debris lying in a sewage pipe. If they ever saw it.
“So give me a summary of what we know so far, Yitzhak,” Marcus asked the technician.
Yitzhak looked at his notes. “On average, eight capsules are delivered every two weeks. We have back-traced the floating messages to four separate locations. By placing sewer-inspection cameras at regular intervals in the main sewer line, we’ve been able to narrow our search parameters.”
The tech
pointed to a map of the city sewer system of Tel Aviv. Using a small laser pointer, he pointed to an X on the map, which was overlaid on the sewer main in front of the bakery. “That X is where the baker’s magnetic snare is located. At one-thousand-foot intervals up the sewer main, we have six cameras marked A–F, A being closest to the bakery and F farthest away. When a capsule appeared in the video from camera C but did not show up on camera D, we knew it came from the section of sewer line between C and D. After the first two weeks we were able to identify the four separate sections of sewer line from which each capsule came.”
Pointing at the map again he said, “Two capsules came from section E to F, one capsule came from section C to D, and one capsule came from section A to B. Taking into consideration the different connection points of buildings to the city’s sewer main, we shortened the distance between each camera and added two more cameras in each section at about three-hundred-foot intervals. The bottom line—we have now located the specific building from which each floating capsule originated. One capsule came from an office building here,” he pointed to a location on the map, “two of the capsules came from this apartment complex,” pointing to another location on the map, “and the final capsule came from here.”
The final location was a public restroom. “You have got to be kidding me!” Marcus exploded. “You mean these traitors can just walk into a public restroom and send a message to their contact with complete anonymity?” He said it more as a statement than a question.
For a minute, the tech stood there in silence as Marcus vented, then said cautiously, “Well, sir, they don’t have anonymity anymore.”
He ventured this statement hesitantly as sort of a hopeful peace offering. Marcus ignored it. “Have you been able to identify which location the capsule marked with the number thirteen comes from?”
The 13th Enumeration Page 25
