Soul Harvest

by Tim LaHaye

  And so I am a dissenter, as are you if you count yourself part of this kingdom family. Belief in Jesus Christ as the only begotten Son of God the Father, Maker of heaven and earth, trust in the one who offered his life as a sacrifice for the sin of the world, is ultimately antithetical to everything taught by Enigma Babylon. Those who pride themselves on tolerance and call us exclusivists, judgmental, unloving, and shrill are illogical to the point of absurdity. Enigma Babylon welcomes every organized religion into its ranks, with the proviso that all are acceptable and none are discriminated against. And yet the very tenets of many of those same religions make this impossible. When everything is tolerated, nothing is limited.

  There are those who ask, why not cooperate? Why not be loving and accepting? Loving we are. Accepting we cannot be. It is as if Enigma Babylon is an organization of “one-and-only true” religions. It may be that many of these belief systems eagerly gave up their claims of exclusivity because they never made sense.

  Belief in Christ, however, is unique and, yes, exclusive on the face of it. Those who pride themselves on “accepting” Jesus Christ as a great man, perhaps a god, a great teacher, or one of the prophets, expose themselves as fools. I have been gratified to read many kind comments about my teaching. I thank God for the privilege and pray I will always seek his guidance and expound his truth with care. But imagine if I announced to you that not only am I a believer, but that I am also God himself. Would that not negate every positive thing I have ever taught? It may be true that we should love everyone and live in peace. Be kind to our neighbors. Do unto others as we would have them do unto us. The principles are sound, but is the teacher still admirable and acceptable if he also claims to be God?

  Jesus was a man who was also God. Well, you say, that is where we differ. You consider him simply a man. If that is all he was, he was an egomaniac or he was deranged or he was a liar. Can you say aloud without hearing the vapidness of it that Jesus was a great teacher except for that business about claiming to be the Son of God, the only way to the Father?

  One argument against a deep, sincere commitment to faith used to be that various religious beliefs were so similar that it did not seem to make much difference which somebody chose. Living a moral, spiritual life was assumed to entail doing the best you could, treating other people nicely, and hoping your good deeds outweighed your bad.

  Indeed, those tenets are common to many of the religions that came together to form the One World Faith. As cooperating members they have cast aside all other distinctions and enjoy the harmony of tolerance.

  Frankly, this clarifies the matter. I no longer must compare faith in Christ to every other belief system. They are all one now, and the difference between Enigma Babylon and the Way, the Truth, and the Life, is so clear that the choosing, if not the choice, has become easy.

  Enigma Babylon, sanctioned by the Global Community itself, does not believe in the one true God. It believes in any god, or no god, or god as a concept. There is no right or wrong; there is only relativism. The self is the center of this man-made religion, and devoting one’s life to the glory of God stands in stark relief.

  My challenge to you today is to choose up sides. Join a team. If one side is right, the other is wrong. We cannot both be right. Go to the page that walks you through those Scriptures that clarify man’s condition. Discover that you are a sinner, separated from God, but that you can be reconciled to him by accepting the gift of salvation he offers. As I have pointed out before, the Bible foretells of an army of horsemen that numbers 200 million, but a crowd of tribulation saints—those who become believers during this period—that cannot be numbered.

  Though that clearly indicates there will be hundreds of millions of us, I call you not to a life of ease. During the next five years before the glorious return of Christ to set up his kingdom on earth, three-fourths of the population that was left after the Rapture will die. In the meantime, we should invest our lives in the cause. A great missionary martyr of the twentieth century named Jim Elliot is credited with one of the most poignant summaries of commitment to Christ ever penned: “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep [this temporal life] to gain what he cannot lose [eternal life with Christ].”

  And now a word to my fellow converted Jews from each of the twelve tribes: Plan on rallying in Jerusalem a month from today for fellowship and teaching and unction to evangelize with the fervor of the apostle Paul and reap the great soul harvest that is ours to gather.

  And now unto him who is able to keep you from falling, to Christ, that great shepherd of the sheep, be power and dominion and glory now and forevermore, world without end, Amen. Your servant, Tsion Ben-Judah.

  Rayford and Amanda had loved reading such missives from Bruce Barnes and then Tsion. Was it possible she was in hiding somewhere, able to access this very thing? Could it be they were reading it at the same time? Would a message from Amanda someday appear on Rayford’s screen? Each day with no news made it harder for him to believe she was still alive, and yet he could not accept that she was gone. He would not stop looking. He couldn’t wait to get back to the equipment that would allow him to dive and prove Amanda was not on that plane.

  “Albie to Scuba, over.”

  “This is Scuba, go,” Rayford said.

  “ETA three minutes. Sit tight. Over and out.”

  Buck and Chloe agreed that he would keep trying Hattie’s number while she continued to call medical facilities in Denver. Buck got a taste of Chloe’s frustration when he began hitting the redial button for Hattie’s phone every minute or so. Even a busy signal would have been encouraging. “I can’t stand just sitting here,” Buck said. “I feel like heading off on foot and searching for her.”

  “Got your laptop with you?” Ritz said.

  “Always,” Buck said. Ken had been riveted to his for some time.

  “Tsion’s online, rallying the troops. He’s gotta be gettin’ under Carpathia’s skin. I know there’s a lot more people who still love Carpathia than there are like us who finally saw the light, but look at this.”

  Ritz turned his computer so Buck could watch the numbers whiz by, indicating how many responses hit the bulletin board every minute. With a fresh message out there, the total was multiplying again.

  Ritz was right, of course, Buck thought. Carpathia had to be enraged by the response to Tsion. No wonder he wanted credit for Tsion’s escape and also for eventually bringing him back to the public. But how long would that satisfy Carpathia? How long before his jealousy got the best of him?

  “If it’s true, Buck, that the Global Community would like to sponsor Tsion’s return to Israel, they ought to look at what he’s saying about Enigma Babylon.”

  “Carpathia’s got Mathews in charge of Enigma Babylon right now,” Buck said, “and he regrets it. Mathews sees himself and the faith as bigger and more important than even the GC. Tsion says the Bible teaches that Mathews will only last so long.”

  The phone rang. It was Chloe.

  “Buck, where are you?”

  “Still sitting here on the runway.”

  “You and Ken head for a rental car. I’ll talk as you walk.”

  “What’s up?” Buck said, climbing out and signaling Ken to follow.

  “I got through to a small, private hospital. A woman told me they were being shut down in three weeks because they’re better off to sell to the Global Community than pay the ridiculous taxes.”

  Buck jogged toward the terminal but soon slowed when he realized Ken was lagging. “Is that where Hattie is?” he asked Chloe.

  “No, but this woman told me there’s a big GC testing laboratory in Littleton. It’s housed in a huge church Enigma Babylon took over and then sold to Carpathia when attendance dwindled. A reproductive clinic in the old educational wing of that church takes in longer-term patients. She wasn’t fond of it. The clinic and the lab work hand in hand, and apparently there’s a lot of cloning and fetal tissue research going on.”

  “So you reached
Hattie there?”

  “I think I did. I described Hattie, and the receptionist got suspicious when I didn’t know what name she might be using. She told me that if someone was using a phony name, that meant they didn’t want to be contacted. I told her it was important, but she didn’t buy it. I asked if she would just tell every patient that one of them had a message to call CW, but I’m sure she ignored it. I called a little later and disguised my voice. I said my uncle was the janitor and could somebody get him to come to the phone. Pretty soon this guy came on and I told him I had a friend in there who forgot to give me her alias. I told him my husband was on the way there with a gift, but he would have to know whom to ask for to be able to get in. He wasn’t sure he ought to help until I told him my husband would give him a hundred dollars. He was so excited he gave me his name before he gave me the names of the four women staying there right now.”

  Buck reached the rental car desk and Ken, knowing the drill, slapped his driver’s license and credit card on the counter. “You’re gonna owe me a ton,” he said. “Let’s hope they’ve got a decent-sized car.”

  “Give me the names, hon,” Buck said, pulling out a pen.

  “I’ll give you all four just in case,” Chloe said, “but you’re gonna know right away which is hers.”

  “Don’t tell me she called herself something like Derby Bull.”

  “Nothing so creative. It’s just that with the makeup of the women represented, we got lucky. Conchita Fernandez, Suzie Ng, Mary Johnson, and Li Yamamoto.”

  “Give me the address, and have Uncle Janitor tell Mary we’re on our way.”

  Mac set the chopper down close to the Challenger and jumped aboard with Rayford.

  “I don’t know what all’s going down, Ray, but I wouldn’t stall you like that without a reason. It gives me chills to think I almost missed this, but after you dropped me off, I taxied the Condor into that south hangar, like you said. I’m coming out of there and heading to the cab line when Fortunato pages me from the ambassador’s house. He asks me will I let him back on the Condor because he’s got a classified call he’s gotta make and the only secure phone is on board. I tell him sure, but that I’m gonna have to unlock it for him and get some power on for his call and then lock up after him. He tells me that’s OK as long as I stay in the pilot’s quarters or in the cockpit and give him privacy. I told him I had stuff to do in the cockpit. Check this out, Ray.”

  Mac pulled a dictation machine from his pocket. “Do I think ahead, or what? I slipped in there, jammed on those headphones, and flipped the switch. I tucked the machine inside one of the phones and turned it on. Listen.”

  Rayford heard dialing, then Fortunato saying, “OK, Your Excellency, I’m on the Condor, so this is secure. . . . Yes, I’m alone. . . . Officer McCullum let me in. . . . In the cockpit. No problem. . . . On his way to Denver. . . . They’re gonna do it right there? . . . It’s as good a place as any. It’s going to change our trip back, though. . . . One pilot simply can’t physically do this whole trip. I wouldn’t feel safe. . . . Yes, start telling the ambassadors we’ll need more time to get back. Did you want me to try to hire a pilot from here in Dallas? . . . I see. I’ll check in with you later.”

  “What do you make of that, Mac?”

  “It’s pretty clear, Ray. They want to take you both out at once. What got to me is when he rushed to the cockpit and knocked quickly. He looked flushed and shaken. He asked if I would come back and join him and to please sit down. He looks nervous, wiping his mouth and looking away, totally unlike him, you know. He says, ‘I just heard from Captain Steele, and there’s a chance he’ll be delayed. I would like you to plot our return and work in enough rest time for yourself in case you have to do all the flying.’

  “I say, ‘All the flying? The whole way back and all the stops en route?’

  “He says I should make the schedule easy on myself and that with enough rest, they have full confidence I can do it. He adds, ‘You will find His Excellency much in your debt.’”

  Rayford was not amused. “So he recruited you to be the new captain.”

  “Just about.”

  “And I’m going to be delayed. Well, isn’t that a nice way to say I’m going to be toast.”

  CHAPTER 17

  By the time Buck and Ken got their car—with more room than they needed—and were informed of shortcuts around destruction, it took nearly forty-five minutes to get to Littleton. Finding a church that had been retrofitted into a testing laboratory and reproductive clinic was easy. It was on the only navigable street in a fifteen-mile radius. Every vehicle they saw was dusty and mud-caked.

  Buck went in alone to see if he could sneak Hattie from the place. Ken waited out front with the engine idling and monitored Buck’s phone.

  Buck approached the receptionist. “Hi!” he said breezily. “I’m here to see Mary.”

  “Mary?”

  “Johnson. She’s expecting me.”

  “And who may I say is asking for her?”

  “Just tell her it’s B.”

  “Are you related?”

  “We soon will be, I think. I hope.”

  “One moment.”

  Buck sat and found a magazine as if he had all the time in the world. The receptionist picked up the phone. “Ms. Johnson, were you expecting a visitor? . . . No? . . . A young man who calls himself B. . . . I’ll check.”

  The receptionist motioned to Buck. “She would like to ask where you know her from.”

  Buck smiled as if exasperated. “Remind her we met on an airplane.”

  “He says you met on an airplane. . . . Very well.”

  The receptionist hung up. “I’m sorry, sir, but she believes you may have her confused with someone else.”

  “Can you tell me if she’s alone?”

  “Why?”

  “That may be the reason she’s not admitting she knows me. She may need some assistance and doesn’t know how to tell me.”

  “Sir, she is recovering from a medical procedure. I’m quite sure she’s alone and well taken care of. Without her permission, I am not at liberty to share anything more with you.”

  In his peripheral vision, Buck saw a small, dark figure shuffle past in a long robe. The tiny, long-haired, severe-looking Asian woman peered curiously at Buck, then quickly looked away and disappeared down the hallway.

  The receptionist’s phone rang. She whispered, “Yes, Mary? . . . You don’t recognize him at all? Thank you.”

  “So, Mac, am I paranoid, or does it sound like they’re using Hattie as bait to get the two of us together?”

  “Sounds that way to me,” Mac said. “And neither of you are going to walk away.”

  Rayford grabbed his phone. “I’d better let Buck know what he’s getting into before I decide what to do about it.”

  It sounded to Buck as if the receptionist was calling security. It would do no good to be ushered out by security, or worse, detained by them. His first thought was to bolt. But still there was a chance to bluff his way past the receptionist. Maybe Ken could distract her. Or maybe Buck could convince her he didn’t know what name his friend used and had been only guessing.

  The receptionist stunned him, however, when she suddenly hung up and said, “You don’t happen to work for the Global Community, do you?”

  How she knew that was as puzzling as Hattie using an ethnic alias while an Asian girl was either named Mary Johnson or had selected that as her pseudonym. If Buck denied working for the Global Community, he might never find out why she asked. “Uh, yeah, as a matter of fact I do,” he said.

  The front door swung open behind him. Ken was on the run, Buck’s phone in hand.

  The receptionist said, “And does your name happen to be Rayford Steele?”

  “Uh . . .”

  Ken shouted, “Sir? Is that your car out there with the lights on?”

  Buck could tell he should not hesitate. He spun, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be back.”

  “But, sir! Capt
ain Steele!”

  Buck and Ken bounded down the steps to the car. “They thought I was Rayford! I was almost in!”

  “You don’t want in there, Buck. Rayford’s been set up. He’s sure he would have walked into an ambush.”

  Ken tried to shift into Drive, but it wouldn’t budge. “I thought I left this thing running.” The keys were gone.

  A uniformed GC security officer materialized at his window. “Here, sir,” he said, handing Ken the keys. “Which of you is Captain Steele?”

  Buck could tell Ken was tempted to race off. He leaned across Ken’s lap and said, “That would be me. Were you expecting me?”

  “Yes, we were. When your driver left the car, I thought I’d shut it off and bring him the keys. Captain Steele, we have your cargo inside, if you’ll join us.” Turning to Ken, he said, “Are you also with the GC?”

  “Me? Nope. I work for the rental company. The captain here wasn’t sure he’d be bringing the car back, so I drove him. He still pays for a round trip, of course.”

  “Of course. And if there’s nothing you need from the car then, Captain, you may follow me.” To Ken, “And we will provide transportation, so you may take the car.”

  “Let me settle up with him,” Buck said. “And I’ll be right with you.”

  Ken closed his window. “Say the word, Buck, and they’ll never catch us. You go in there as Rayford Steele and neither you or Hattie will come out.”

  Buck made a show of taking out a few bills for Ken. “I have to go in,” he said. “If they think I’m Rayford and that I smelled a rat and slipped away, Hattie’s life is worthless. She’s carrying a child, and she’s not a believer yet. I’m not about to hand her over to the GC.” Buck glanced at the guard on the sidewalk. “I gotta go.”