It was not as though one day mankind awoke to find a world where national interests were of no importance and all power resided in a global dictatorship headquartered in New York. Rather, the centralized management of international matters by the UN—under the guidance of Hansen and the Security Council—had facilitated remarkable advances by allowing compromise and cooperation among nations that would have been unimaginable a few decades earlier. The regionalized structure of the Security Council and the even-handed leadership of Jon Hansen had brought balance to the treatment of all nations and had succeeded in bringing about a general peace that was accompanied by prosperity throughout most of the world. As Hansen pointed out quite regularly, now that international matters were handled internationally, the governments of the individual countries were free to focus on their provincial interests.
There were of course exceptions to the general prosperity, for no amount of good government could alleviate natural disasters. One such exception was the Indian subcontinent and especially northern India and Pakistan, which were in a rapidly worsening state of famine due to a combination of drought and wheat rust.
In the secretary-general’s private train compartment, Jon Hansen and Decker Hawthorne were conferring on the upcoming annual State of the World Address. “I’ve received drafts of the annual reports from all of the members of the Security Council and from each of the agencies of the Secretariat with the exception of the Food and Agriculture Organization,” Decker told Hansen. “This is the fifth draft of your address, containing everything except for the information from FAO.” Decker handed Hansen an eighty-four page document, which Hansen proceeded to page through, scanning the contents.
“As you can see,” Decker continued, “we’ve already prepared most of the text dealing with world hunger and agricultural production and we just need to fill in the figures once we have the FAO report. Then we’ll liven it up a bit with some personal insights from your upcoming trip to Pakistan.”
“Have you addressed each of my eight points on distribution of agricultural resources?” Hansen asked.
“Yes, sir. That begins on page sixteen.”
Hansen flipped to the page and began reading. While it was not possible to legislate away things such as famine, Hansen felt it was imperative that the United Nations do everything in its power to reduce the suffering by providing massive food shipments to the affected countries. The problem with this was that someone had to pay for the food and it was this problem that Hansen’s eight points on the distribution of agricultural resources was intended to address.
“Yes, this looks good,” Hansen said after a brief review. “You’re flying to Rome from Frankfurt?” he asked Decker.
“Yes, Jack Redmond and I are meeting with Christopher at FAO headquarters in Rome to iron out the final projections and recommendations for the agricultural quotas from each region for distribution to the poorer nations. We’ll meet you on Wednesday in Pakistan.”
“Good. I think it’s important we get Jack’s input,” Hansen agreed, referring to his chief political adviser. “We need to have a solidly defensible position for the distribution quotas when I introduce the measure to the General Assembly next month.” Decker nodded acknowledgment. “This program won’t be easy to implement,” Hansen said. “Those who have an abundance are not exactly standing in line to give it away. The problem with the New World Order is that it’s still populated by the same ‘old’ people,” Hansen said, repeating one of his favorite phrases, “Anything you, Jack, and Christopher can come up with to make it politically more palatable will be helpful.”
“I think Jack and Christopher have a few ideas that might help,” Decker said. Decker was always careful to make any comment about Christopher an understatement. His pride in Christopher was obvious even to a casual observer, but no one could doubt that Christopher’s rapid rise as a member of the UN Secretariat was entirely deserved. His success over the past three years as director-general of the UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), headquartered in Rome, made him the heir apparent to Louis Colleta, the executive director of the Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC) in New York, who had announced he would retire the following spring. Indeed, most of Hansen’s eight-point plan had been developed by Christopher in his role as director-general of FAO.
Until the reorganization of the Security Council, ECOSOC had been the umbrella agency for more than half of the UN’s dozens of organizations, including FAO. After the reorganization, all the UN organizations were divided into more or less logical groupings and placed under ten agencies chaired by each of the Security Council Alternates.
What remained under the name ECOSOC was far less than it had been when it was one of the five principal organs of the United Nations, but it was still a major agency. And although each alternate member of the Security Council served as the chairman and titular head of one of the ten agencies, actual operations were the responsibility of the agency’s executive director, who was usually a career professional trained in the respective field.
In addition to the greatly expanded area of responsibility, the promotion to executive director of ECOSOC offered Christopher one other benefit over his current job as director-general of FAO: The new position would put him geographically and politically much closer to the reins of power.
“We should be ready to brief you on our recommendations on the flight back from Pakistan,” Decker said.
“No, I need you to remain in Pakistan with Christopher when I return to New York. Jack will have to brief me on the plane,” Hansen said.
This was not what Decker had in mind; Jack Redmond was a good man, but Decker had planned to direct the briefing himself. “Yes, sir,” he answered without argument.
“Good, good,” Hansen responded, as he went back to his review of the draft document. “What are your readings from Ambassador Faure?” he asked without looking up.
“I don’t think we can count on his support for your agricultural distribution plan, if that’s what you mean.”
“That man is going to drive me to drink,” Hansen commented dryly as he took a swallow from a glass of German beer. “It seems no matter what I try to do, he’s always there ready to oppose me.”
Decker was well aware of Hansen’s feelings about the French ambassador. Albert Faure had always been a thorn in the flesh for Hansen and it was getting worse. About a year before, Faure had managed to get himself elected as the alternate member of the Security Council from Europe. The position carried little actual power on the Council. 35 Perhaps the single greatest power held by the alternates, though it was seldom used, was the right to address the Security Council at any time on behalf of the agency they chaired, if they felt the circumstances warranted—even if it meant interrupting other proceedings. Faure’s agency was the World Peace Organization. 36 In the past, the position had been one of considerable prestige and power, but since there had been no major wars for nearly five years, it proved to be of little consequence to a man as ambitious as Faure. Unfortunately for Hansen, this left Faure with plenty of time to pursue other goals, including lobbying other members against Hansen’s positions. So far, Faure had been unable to mount any sizable opposition to Hansen in either the Security Council or the General Assembly, but if he succeeded in putting together a coalition of the farming nations to oppose the agricultural distribution measures, he could make real trouble.
“It seems there should be some way to handle this fellow other than just ignoring him while he goes on sniping at me,” Hansen said.
“Perhaps you could convince the French president to replace him with someone more agreeable. That worked a few years back with the ambassador from Mexico,” Decker offered.
“Yeah, and with the ambassador from Mali,” Hansen added.
“Oh? I didn’t know that we were involved in that.”
“Well, actually I had Jack Redmond handle that one for me.”
Decker made a mental note of this fact for what it might be worth in th
e future.
“The problem,” Hansen continued, “is that Faure is far too popular among the French people to be so easily deposed.”
“What about Ambassador Heineman?” Decker asked, referring to the German ambassador who represented Europe as primary on the Security Council and who was loyal to Hansen. As the primary from Europe, Heineman carried considerable clout with the nations in his region, including France.
“I think Ambassador Heineman is well aware of my feelings about Faure, but I suppose I could take advantage of our trip to Pakistan this weekend to approach him directly on the matter.” As the representative from one of the major food-producing regions, Heineman was one of the three Security Council members accompanying Hansen on his visit to Pakistan.
“Maybe Jack could come up with something Ambassador Heineman could use to convince Faure to see things your way,” Decker suggested.
“Find a weak spot and then apply a little pressure, you mean?”
“Yes, sir. And Jack is the best person I know to find out what and where those weak spots are.”
Secretary-General Hansen liked the idea. “Take that up with Jack when you see him in Rome.”
Rome, Italy
Decker’s plane from Frankfurt arrived the next morning at the Leonardo da Vinci Airport in Fiumicino, just southwest of Rome. Having been warned about pickpockets and luggage thieves in and around Rome, Decker held tightly to his briefcase and carry-on luggage as he scanned the crowd for any sign of Christopher, who was to meet him there. As director of public affairs for the United Nations, Decker had access to the UN’s small fleet of private jets, but whenever possible he chose to fly on commercial aircraft. “Much safer,” he told anyone who asked.
From behind a group of Italian businessmen Decker saw a hand waving and then Christopher emerged and hurried toward him. “Welcome to Rome,” Christopher said as he gave Decker a hug. “How was your trip?”
“Fine. Fine.”
“Do you have luggage?”
“Just this,” Decker answered, lifting his briefcase and a large piece of carry-on luggage from his side.
“Great. We can get started on your tour of Rome right away. You’ve never been to Rome before, have you?”
“No. The closest I came was when I was in Turin and Milan on the Shroud research team.”
“Well, I think you’re really going to like it.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
As they moved through the crowds to the exit, Decker noticed that several people seemed to be pointing at them, and as they waited on the curb for the limo, several cars nearly collided when a very attractive young woman suddenly stopped her car to stare at them. Christopher ignored the woman’s curious gape, but Decker couldn’t help but remark. “I think she thought she knew you,” he told Christopher as they got in the limo.
“Shall we start with the Colosseum?” Christopher asked, taking no notice of Decker’s comment. “I’m afraid all the museums are closed on Monday except the Vatican, but there’s still more than enough to see to fill the rest of the day.”
“Roma, non basta una vita!” Decker answered in Italian, meaning “For Rome, one life is not enough.”
“I didn’t know you knew Italian,” Christopher remarked.
“You just heard every word I know,” Decker confessed. “The flight attendant taught it to me.” Christopher smiled. Answering his earlier question, Decker added, “Whatever you say. You’re the tour guide. There is one thing I want to see that may not be on the usual list of must-see places.”
“What’s that?” asked Christopher.
“The Arch of Titus.”
“Oh, sure. It’s at the Forum, near the Colosseum. We can start there if you like.”
“Great,” Decker said. “Actually, I think you’ll find it more interesting than you realize.”
The Triumphal Arch of Titus rose imposingly against the backdrop of the Colosseum, barely scarred by the twenty centuries that had passed since it was constructed to commemorate the successful campaign against Jerusalem by Titus. Decker scanned the carved images in the arch and quickly found what he was looking for. “Here it is,” he said. Christopher looked at the carving over Decker’s shoulder. The scene depicted the spoils of war being taken from the conquered city of Jerusalem.
“Okay. Now will you tell me what this is all about?”
“Sure,” answered Decker. “I don’t know if I ever mentioned Joshua Rosen to you.” Christopher’s face gave no indication that he recognized the name. “Well, he was a man, a scientist actually, whom I knew years ago. We met on the Turin expedition.” Christopher’s ears perked up. “Later he moved to Israel and I did a story on him. Anyway, when Tom Donafin and I were in Israel, just before we were taken hostage, Joshua Rosen gave us a tour of some of the sites in Jerusalem, one of which was the Wailing Wall. That’s what they used to call the western wall of the old Jewish temple before the Palestinians blew it up and the Jews built the new Temple.” Christopher nodded, indicating his familiarity with the recent history of the Jewish Temple. “Well, while we were there, Joshua told us about the Ark of the Covenant and gave his theory on what had happened to it. I’ll have to tell you all about it sometime. But anyway, the point of the story is that he told us about the Arch of Titus and this carving. Titus was the commander of the Roman forces that pillaged and destroyed Jerusalem in 70 A.D.”
“Yes, I know. I prophesied that before the crucifixion,” interjected Christopher.
“You never told me you remembered that!”
“Don’t get too excited,” Christopher answered. “I don’t remember it. I read about it in the Bible.”
“Oh,” said Decker. “Well, anyway, as you can see, the carving is intricately detailed. Despite its age, you can clearly make out the items being taken from Jerusalem.” Christopher looked more closely.
“Yeah, I see that. It’s really well preserved.”
Christopher didn’t seem to be getting the point. “Don’t you see?” Decker asked. “The Ark of the Covenant is not among the treasures shown in the carving.”
“I’m sorry, Decker. I don’t get it. So what?”
Decker suddenly realized there was a lot he had not explained. “I’m sorry. I guess I need to give you some more details, but the reason for the interest has to do with the Shroud of Turin. Joshua Rosen had a fascinating theory involving the Ark of the Covenant that would explain why the original Carbon 14 dating of the Shroud showed it to be only about a thousand years old.” Decker proceeded to tell Christopher the whole story of the Ark as it had been told to him and Tom Donafin by Joshua Rosen.
“So you think the Shroud was in the Ark all those years?” Christopher asked after listening to Decker’s story.
“I don’t know, but it would answer some questions about the Shroud. And about you,” Decker added.
As they talked and looked at the carvings on the Arch, they were unaware that two young boys had approached them from behind. “Scusi, Signor Goodman, potremo avere la sua firma?” the older of the two boys asked.
Decker had no idea what the boys wanted, and was quite surprised when Christopher took a pen out of his jacket pocket and began to sign his name on some scraps of paper the boys handed him. “Autographs?” he asked, making no attempt to hide his amusement.
Christopher nodded in answer to Decker’s question. He spoke for a moment with the boys in perfect Italian, smiling broadly and shaking their hands as if they were important dignitaries, before dismissing them. The boys walked a few steps, each showing the other the autograph he had received. Then, waving their scraps of paper in the air like trophies, they broke into a run toward a lady whom Decker took to be their mother, shouting, “Il Principe di Roma!”
For a moment Decker just looked at Christopher, who seemed a little embarrassed by the whole thing. “So that’s what all the attention was about at the airport. You’re a local celebrity.”
Christopher shrugged.
“Don’t be embarrassed.
I think that’s great. You must be doing quite a job here.”
“It’s not really anything I’ve done: I’ve just gotten a lot of credit for some of the United Nations programs we’ve implemented. Popular programs make for a popular administration.”
The next morning Decker and Christopher arrived early at Christopher’s office at the UN Food and Agriculture Organization. Jack Redmond’s arrival time would be dependent on Rome’s morning traffic. FAO headquarters occupied an immense building complex covering more than four square blocks and towering well above the surrounding architecture. Located on Viale delle Terme di Caracalla, the FAO employed more than twenty-five hundred professional administrative personnel with a biannual budget of $2.5 billion.
At Christopher’s office they were greeted by a young, attractive Italian woman. “Buon giorno, Signor Goodman,” the woman said.
“Good morning, Maria,” Christopher answered in English. “This is my very good friend Mr. Decker Hawthorne, Director of Public Affairs of the United Nations. Decker, this is Maria Sabetini.”
“Mr. Hawthorne, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Goodman mentions you frequently.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Decker answered. “Are you any relation to President Sabetini?” he asked, recognizing that she bore the same last name as Italy’s president.
“Maria is the president’s youngest daughter,” Christopher answered.
“Oh … uh, well, then it’s even more of a pleasure.” Decker tried to not seem too surprised, but the question about her name had just been small talk; he never expected the answer he got.
“Mr. Redmond will be arriving a little later,” Christopher told Maria. “When he gets here, please show him in.”
After Christopher closed the door behind them Decker blurted out, “Your secretary is the Italian president’s daughter?”
Christopher shook his head, trying not to make too much of it. “She’s not a secretary. She’s an administrative assistant,” he said. “She wanted a job, and I needed an administrative assistant.”
In His Image Page 32
