The 49th Mystic

by Ted Dekker

  With his free hand, God was pointing a long finger down to a Bible that had been fixed to a pedestal on the wall below the stained glass. I shifted my eyes back up to the image of God and shivered as a thousand fears surfaced.

  My father had once told me that you could get that big black book to say anything if you tortured it long enough. And I supposed he was right, but I’d always chosen to believe what Simon insisted it said.

  “Anyone who does not comply with even the most benign law in Eden will be sequestered.” Simon was staring at me as he spoke, and others turned their heads to see who he was looking at, including Peter, who’d taken his place next to his sister, Carina, on the front row.

  I had taken one step toward my father when the lights went out. All of them. There were no windows. The room was pitch-dark.

  Eden had just lost its power.

  Cries of alarm filled the room. Simon was urging calm and Barth was shouting them all down. “Everyone remain seated! Do not move!”

  My hearing quickly picked up my father’s voice. “Rachelle?”

  I stood fixed to the carpet, clicking and seeing the shapes of at least a dozen people standing, including my father, ten paces ahead on the last pew.

  “Let there be light!” a voice boomed from the stage.

  The lights suddenly popped on, illuminating the auditorium. With the coming of that light, a hush. And in that hush stood Vlad Smith. Dressed in the same white jacket, legs spread wide, hands in his pockets.

  Every eye turned to look at the man who stood on the right side of the stage. His were directed at me. No one moved.

  “I have come to bring sight to the blind and set the captives free.”

  Barth Caldwell palmed a gun from his waist and leveled it at the man.

  Vlad slowly turned his head toward the security man. “Really, Barth? You really want to go there?”

  Barth looked like he did.

  Simon looked like he’d been gut-punched. He slowly lifted a hand to his second in command, but Barth kept his weapon trained on Vlad Smith.

  The lights went out again. Black.

  A momentary flash and crack from a gunshot punctuated the darkness. I instinctively ducked. Barth fired his weapon two more times in rapid succession.

  Then nothing but darkness. No one was yelling—they were too shocked, I thought. First the power failure, now gunshots. Two firsts in the hallowed sanctuary.

  With a loud snap, light once again filled the room. Half the residents were now on their feet. Vlad hadn’t moved except to raise one hand and snap his fingers. He was still staring directly at me, like a viper, unblinking.

  “You see?” he said. “I give and I take, and in the world of polarity, that which is given must be taken. What you will quickly realize, every single last one of you, is that, for all practical purposes, I am now your god. So if you want any power in Eden, I strongly suggest you take a deep breath and put the weapon down before I cram it down your throat.”

  “Put it away,” Simon said, voice thin. This time Barth complied.

  “Attaboy.” Vlad’s gaze swept the auditorium. “As I’m sure you’ve all heard by now, yesterday I brought sight to blind eyes—a sign so you would know my power. Today I show you I can just as easily take sight away.”

  He withdrew his other hand from his pocket and held up a small gray device between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you know what this is? Hmmm?”

  He showed it to both sides of the room.

  “No? It’s a transmitter with two buttons. One of them cuts off the power from the hydro. The other blows it up. I have four more just like it. And in the event someone gets the bright idea to off me so they can take possession of my little toys, the whole town goes up in smoke. Take my word for it.”

  Someone to my right dropped a hymnal. No one seemed to notice.

  “I’m glad we have that out of the way,” Vlad said, sliding the device back into his pocket. He turned to the council members, who were all on their feet. “Leave my stage.” Each glanced at Simon, who hesitated, then nodded. They filed off the platform, lastly Barth, who glared at Vlad all the way.

  To the rest of us: “Sit.”

  I was still there at the back of the sanctuary, frozen in place. Part of my brain was telling me to run. But the reasoning part told me running would end badly. I had taken two steps toward my father when Vlad’s voice stopped me.

  “Not you. You stay exactly where you are. I want them all to understand how and why this is all your doing.”

  My father was back on his feet.

  “Sit!” Vlad’s tone carried a crushing authority. Then it softened. “Please, David. Let me do my job. You and I have work to do, but your wife’s body isn’t going anywhere just yet. Sit.”

  My father looked confused, but he slowly sat back down.

  Everyone had taken a seat, leaving Vlad Smith alone on the stage and me alone in the aisle.

  “Good.” Vlad walked to the center of the stage, measuring his audience with steady eyes. “Very good.” He picked up a wooden gavel from the podium and slammed it down. “Court is in session.” He tossed it back onto the bench. “In short order, you, not I, will deliver a verdict based upon all the evidence I intend to present to you. You are the jury and I am your judge. We know that this God you think you understand is the final judge, and I’m not him. But as of now, I will do the speaking for him. Can I get an amen?”

  No one spoke. Like me, they probably couldn’t have if they wanted to.

  “Please, just one. So I know you’re listening.”

  “Amen,” Cindy said. A soft chorus of amens quickly followed.

  “Excellent, the jury has spoken. The next time all of you, please.”

  It’s hard to explain how I felt in that moment. Inside, I was shaking all over, terrified of being alone and vulnerable in that aisle while Shadow Man strutted across the platform, weaving his spell over them all. But part of me was remembering Justin and Talya and my other self from Other Earth. Those voices told me to stand there and let him say whatever he wanted to say. Those voices were asking, What begins as White that man has made Black? Over and over, like a skipping record.

  Vlad folded his arms, leaned back on the judge’s bench, and crossed his legs. “First, some background, which, however philosophical, is crucial for all tissue-tops. We must break through those thick skulls that protect that mush in there. You’ve all been brainwashed, every single one of you. That much will be plain soon enough. But I’m going to give you a head start today. It’s time to set the record straight.”

  His lips were flat and his eyes deadpan.

  “There are those among the human race called mystics who know that God is infinite.”

  The familiar words crashed through my skull.

  “These mystics say that God is infinitely powerful, infinitely complete, infinitely knowing, infinitely present, and infinitely loving. And what is infinite cannot be compromised by what is finite. Does the jury agree?”

  A few amens were quickly joined by many more.

  Vlad lowered his arms and stood tall.

  “They ask, if a finite little pit bull like Barth here was to come upon a being who was infinitely more powerful than that little ferocious thing”—he pointed to the gun at Barth’s waist—“would the infinite being cower in fear? Of course not, the mystics say, because no finite pit bull, regardless of how ferocious he thinks he is, can threaten a being that is infinite. Correct?”

  A ripple of tentative agreements, though most were undoubtedly balking at his reference to Barth.

  “These mystics say that this infinite God of theirs created all that exists, including time and space. And that, as the Creator of time and space, he’s not bound by it. He knows everything that has happened and ever will happen. Nothing can surprise such an infinite being. He doesn’t wake up one morning and say, ‘Crap, I didn’t see that coming. I am so disappointed!’”

  And I was a Mystic in Other Earth, I thought. Here as well, but
one who was standing there dressed in jeans with my arms hanging limp at my sides, feeling as vulnerable as a sheared lamb.

  Vlad shoved a hand back into his pocket and walked slowly to his left.

  “Follow me here, because it’s important. Would such an infinite being ever fear anything? No. Does he ever feel insecure or upset? Does he worry that something might go wrong with his plans? No, because there is no finite power that can possibly undermine or compromise his intentions in any way, ever. The pit bull might have his free will, but no will of any finite creature can cause a problem for an infinite being who cannot be compromised.”

  His voice rang out across the auditorium. A few more amens piped up, but he continued over them.

  “God is infinitely secure, the mystics say. Would such a being ever need to defend himself against an enemy that poses no threat to his invulnerability? Any defense would only recognize and honor the pit bull’s nonexistent power to threaten him. These mystics say that humans have problems but God does not. Having problems, most humans, regardless of their religion, can’t fathom the true, infinite nature of God because they’ve made God in their own image. A God with problems like theirs. Can I get a true, full-blooded amen?”

  “Amen.” But there were only a few, just following Vlad’s orders. This wasn’t the God Simon had taught us about. I’d always assumed God had problems. Big ones. But hearing Vlad, I wondered if he was speaking truth about what mystics believed, even though it went against everything I had ever learned.

  “That’s what the mystics believe.” Vlad drilled me with his gaze. “But the mystics are wrong.”

  He was saying all this for my sake more than the others’. Determined to get under my skin. And it was working. I was suddenly fearing myself—my beliefs and my identity—as much as I was fearing Vlad.

  “We, my friends, know if that kind of God existed, the mystics would be right—God would have no problems. But we’re smart enough to know that God has many very big problems, and he’s upset about those problems, just like you and I are. Therefore, God cannot be infinite.”

  I stood perfectly still, gripped by fear. He was now describing the God I had always believed in even though I said he was infinite. Could I have been wrong this whole time? Or were the mystics wrong?

  Something gentle and warm settled over me the moment that thought crossed my mind, like a breath offering me comfort.

  “For starters, God lives in fear that he might lose you, his precious children. Something has indeed gone terribly wrong with his plan, and he now depends on you to accept his fix or all hell will break out for you. Literally. In fact, it already has. If you threaten one of his children, he will scream with rage. If you curse his name, he will slap you silly. If you pluck out the eye of one of his offspring, he will allow the devil to pluck out your eye. If you run away, he will wring his hands in worry, hoping you won’t be stolen by his enemy, because if you are, only you can save yourself by believing the right thing. He’s a God of law, and that law says the fate of his creation, including you, is in your hands now.”

  My mind was racing. His last statement about our responsibility in life triggered my memory of Justin’s words. Find the five seals for yourself, 49th. When you do, you will know your origin and you will recognize yourself.

  “This is the God of Eden.” Vlad pointed at the council, drawing his finger down the row. “This is the God of law you all worship. The law, my friends, is the sword that you live and die by. It is your accuser and keeps your path straight. You need the law like you need the air to breathe. God fears and so must you, because your terror of God only mirrors his fear of losing you. If the source from which you come fears loss, how much more should you? We have no choice but to protect ourselves from the pit bull, because it’s strong enough to threaten God.”

  Betsy Williamson, who often saw my father for stress due to a surplus of fears stemming from an abandoned childhood, was on her feet, waving a Bible in her old hand. “That’s right! You tell it straight, preacher.” Her arm was covered in a red rash. So was her neck.

  John Baxter shouted his endorsement, then many others followed suit. This was Simon’s gospel.

  A part of me joined in with them, because this was what I had grown up learning. I stood there, fractured.

  But another part of me was feeling that breath that flowed over me like a breeze now, calming my mind. Something was going to happen, I could feel it. Something was already happening.

  What begins as White that man has made Black? Find the seals . . . When you do, you will know your origin and yourself.

  “The jury has spoken. I must say, you’ve been programmed so well.” Vlad touched his tongue and marked the air with his finger. “Score one for the tissue-tops. Amen?”

  “Amen.”

  The warm breeze was stronger now, caressing my hair. Something was happening, but only I seemed to notice it. The rest were oblivious to the flow of power that was sweeping over me.

  “All your life you’ve followed what Simon says. Simon says, and you believe, and that’s what protects you. I hope you now all understand why it’s so important for you to follow the laws that Simon says and why you will forgive Barth for enforcing those laws. The whole world is falling apart out there, and Eden will suffer the same fate unless you follow every single jot and tittle.”

  Vlad shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to the center of the stage. “Unfortunately for Simon, I now control much more than the grid in this valley. What used to be Simon Says is now Vlad Smith Says. Otherwise, every single last one of you will perish.”

  His words reached me as if spoken from a distant hole.

  What begins as White that man has made Black? When you find the seals, you will have found your origin.

  “As the new judge in Eden, I wish to put my flock to a simple test, just to see if you understand the consequences of breaking God’s laws, which are now my laws.”

  The seal is a truth . . .

  “That test will be asked of one girl, who is far more powerful than any of you can possibly understand. You know her as Rachelle.” He reached his hand toward me, palm up. “The girl to whom I gave sight yesterday.”

  They were looking at me, I knew that, but I was somewhere else. It could have been in my mind’s eye, but I was back in the desert, facing Justin, who had just given me a stone to hold. The hot sun warmed my skin. His bright green eyes smiled at me, then turned down to my arm. I saw that my veins were filled with light. That light was my fabric. My source. Without it, the stone in my hand would grow too heavy to bear.

  Look to the light, I heard Justin say. Don’t be afraid of the shadow it creates. Re-member. Return to the truth of your origin and recognize yourself.

  With those words, I knew what the First Seal was. Like a tsunami the truth crashed over me, and immediately tears filled my eyes and slipped down my cheeks as I stood there, caught up in another world.

  All my life I had lived in the regret of believing I disappointed my Father, God, the one who made me. All my life I had lived in fear of the consequences for my failure.

  But I had been blind. Blind to his infinite power. Blind to his unthreatened love.

  A knot filled my throat and I could hardly breathe as my tears flowed there in the desert in front of Justin. But I knew now. I knew the First Seal and I opened my eyes, expecting to see him and tell him I had found it. Then I would throw my arms around him.

  Instead, I found myself staring at the platform. I blinked to clear my sight.

  Vlad was holding up the same Book of History he’d shown my father and me that morning. Behind him, that stained glass with the god of law made in man’s image loomed over us like an idol.

  And the Bible below Vlad’s god? It could not, in the end, point to anything but an infinite God who could not fear any loss or be threatened in any way.

  Vlad looked slightly amused by my show of emotion, but he continued whatever he’d been saying.

  “. . . and sh
e refused. Just a few words in a harmless old book. You would think a girl who owes me her life would be thrilled to show her gratitude.”

  My feet were moving already. I walked without fear, one foot in front of the other, drawn by the Book of History. Drawn because I knew it had something to show me.

  My uninvited approach stalled Vlad for a second, but he took it in stride.

  “So now I will make myself clearer. If the one I healed refuses to write what I’ve asked her to write in this book, then I will throw you all into darkness. If she still refuses, then there will be harsher consequences. This I have spoken. This is now the law.”

  Voices peppered the auditorium as I walked, urging me to write. Vlad had said his piece. Everyone thought they knew the stakes, but they couldn’t possibly know what I did.

  My father whispered a warning as I passed him, but I walked by without looking. Vlad Smith let me come, but I didn’t pay him any mind either.

  I had to get to that book.

  A hush fell over the room when I reached the steps. I could hear Vlad’s steady breathing when I set my foot on the platform. I could feel his stare as I walked up to him, refusing to look him in the eyes.

  Look to the light. Don’t be afraid of the shadow it creates. Re-member. Return to the truth of your origin.

  “The book,” I said, holding out my hand.

  He hesitated, then set the book on the podium, and next to it, a pen. I now knew his purpose here. He needed me, the 49th, to write him into Other Earth. Which was a very bad idea.

  I had no intention of writing what he wanted me to write. I was thinking about the page I’d seen earlier, the one with the white circle. The emblem that neither Vlad nor my father could see.

  As if in a dream, I reached out. Touched the book. Felt the ripple of power flowing up my arm like the light I’d felt in my veins. The room behind me went dead silent.

  I slowly opened the cover and peeled back four pages to the one that had been smeared with blood. My blood. And there, below the blood, the emblem. A pencil-thin line encircling a wide band of white. In the center, the same words I’d been repeating to myself all day.