Hand of God

by Karl Morgan

  “And serve you.”

  “As we discussed, we both serve each other. You will be the most powerful man the world has ever known. Together, we will subjugate all of humanity and eventually the Judahs themselves. And if you choose, you can become one of us and rule and live forever.”

  Finch shuddered involuntarily. When he had recovered, he said, “What exactly are you anyway?

  Sattu laughed and replied, “I think you already know the answer to that question. I am offering you the world and eternal life, Hammond.”

  “But you still have to deal with that Carpenter fellow.”

  “Ham, we are already changing the rules. It seems clear that a human is not capable of killing him, but we are. Once he is out of the way, we can take over. What do you think?”

  “Give me a few days to think about it, Henri. I have a long history with Armand to consider, not to mention the potential downside if your plan fails.”

  “Very well then, I suppose that is reasonable. Now before I send you home, may I show you one more thing?” Suddenly, they were standing in a huge room. A thousand chambers were lined up in long rows, and the air was chilly.

  “What is this place, Henri?”

  “Take a look for yourself, Ham.”

  Finch walked by several chambers, which were tubular with rounded ends and glass windows on the top. They all seemed to be empty. “What are these for?” he asked but Henri just smiled. He walked over to the next one and saw the face of a man through the glass, causing him to step back in shock. A small sign read “William Dixon—San Diego.” The man’s face smiled slightly and the skin looked icy. “Why is this man here? Is he dead or is this some kind of cryogenic cell?”

  “Do you trust me, Hammond?”

  “I’m still trying to decide that, Henri.”

  “While you are deciding, you should also figure out what this place is. I will tell you there are five hundred rooms like this, and this facility is our secret weapon against Joshua and the Judah family. Au revoir, Hammond.” Before Finch could open his mouth, he had disappeared. Sattu stepped up to the chamber and looked down on Bill Dixon. “Your son has been a very naughty boy, Bill. You should be praying that we let him live.”

  §

  The strike force of battle tanks had crossed the Chambal and now surged northeast toward their destiny with the Asian Republic Army. Air units sent to soften the attack were pushed back by relentless fighter cover from the caliphate. General Mustafa sat in the turret of one of the leading tanks, surveying the roadway ahead. So far, no Republic ground forces had attempted to stop them. In a few hours, the battle would truly begin, and Mustafa and his men would become heroes and martyrs. A tone sounded on his com-link, so he pressed the contact and said, “Mustafa here.”

  “My brother, this is Marshall Ali. Soon we will both be covered in glory and the blood of our enemies. I want you to know that we will begin artillery bombardment of the Asian army in one hour.”

  “That is excellent news, Field Marshall,” Mustafa laughed. “We will push the infidels all the way back to their ancient lands, and then kill them there.”

  “Let us please stick to the battle plan, General. It will be up to me and the Blessed One to change our objectives now.”

  “Of course, Field Marshall, I was overcome with the power of our great army. I will do as ordered.”

  “Good luck, Ali out.” The line went dead.

  The tanks began to brake hard and the advance stopped where the road had been torn out and replaced by a wide open plowed area, stretching at least two hundred yards into the countryside on both sides and a mile ahead. Several commanders exited their vehicles and approached the general’s tank. Mustafa removed his ballistic helmet and scratched his head. He climbed out of the turret and jumped down onto the road. “What do you think, men?” he asked.

  “Has to be a minefield, General,” Major Lashari noted.

  “Why didn’t our intelligence see this? What kind of army are we running here?” Mustafa growled. “One of you contact Ali and tell him about this.”

  A single figure appeared and began to approach them from the center of the open field. It appeared to be a man in Western attire, seemingly oblivious to the danger around him.

  “Who the hell is that?” Mustafa asked.

  “It doesn’t matter, General, he will be dead soon,” another commander said.

  A tone sounded on the general’s com-link, so he pressed the contact. “Mustafa here.”

  “It’s Ali, General. I got your report, and we have no record of any minefield in that location. Our surveillance planes flew over that exact location just hours ago. I don’t know how they could have done this in so little time.”

  “I don’t know either, Field Marshall, but we’re here and it’s real.”

  “Understood. Please wait while I get some answers. You may want to spread the formation in case this is a decoy for an airstrike.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mustafa said as he closed the connection.

  “General,” Lashari said. He looked up to see the man step out of the plowed earth and onto the asphalt roadway, now fifty feet in front of them. All the men raised their pistols. “Stop where you are!”

  Josh stopped and smiled at them, raising his arms so they could see he was not carrying a weapon.

  “What do you want, little man?” Mustafa shouted.

  “General, I think your men should abandon your vehicles and move away quickly,” Josh replied in Farsi. A large group of soldiers were now out of their tanks and approaching to find out what was happening.

  “And what do you intend to do now, little man?”

  “I mean no harm to any of you, and in fact, I am here to warn you, General Mustafa. My name is Joshua Carpenter, and I am your friend, but someone else has sabotaged the equipment, and at this moment is preparing to launch an attack on Caliph Hossain.”

  Mustafa walked toward Josh and stopped when he could press the barrel of his pistol against Josh’s forehead. “Perhaps I should just kill you now. What do you think about that?”

  “General, please listen. First, you will not kill me. Second, you have to wait to hear from the Field Marshall anyway, so why not have the men evacuate the equipment, just in case I am right?”

  “What can you know such things? Are you a devil?”

  “General, if you advise the Field Marshall about the plot on the caliph, perhaps there is time to evacuate him from Tehran before the attack. Otherwise, Ibrahim wins again.”

  Mustafa was sweating profusely now and his mouth was as dry as cotton. He remembered discussing the deal for the tanks just a few days ago. Could it really be happening, he wondered. He holstered his pistol and turned to his commanders. “Have everyone evacuate the tanks, Lashari, and move out into the countryside.”

  “You believe this infidel, sir?”

  “Just follow my orders and do it now!”

  “Thank you, General, and please remember to tell Ali about the threat to the caliph,” Josh said.

  Mustafa turned to respond to Josh, but he was nowhere to be seen. “What happened here? Where did he go?” His commanders stared back without saying a word. “Abandon the tanks! Now!” he shouted. Thousands of men rushed out into the countryside to escape whatever was about to happen. Mustafa pushed his com-link and said, “Field Marshall, we have been duped by Ibrahim. He has sabotaged the tanks and is about to assassinate the caliph! You must tell him to leave Tehran immediately!”

  “Are you sure, Mustafa? Those are serious charges.”

  “For the love of God, Ali, please tell him.” He closed the connection and began to run away from the vehicles when his com-link chattered to life. “Mustafa here.”

  “General Mustafa, it is a pleasure to hear your voice.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Caliph Ibrahim, of course. It is a shame you will not be joining us in the new united caliphate, my brother.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “No time for
talk, martyr. Goodbye.” The line was cut. The general’s tank exploded in a ball of fire and the concussion knocked Mustafa twenty feet where he fell onto the hard ground. More and more tanks exploded and the sky was filled with black smoke and the smell of gunpowder. Two soldiers hurried over to the general, picked him up and pulled him further away to safety.

  §

  Three hours later, a single stealth bomber flew sixty thousand feet over the capital of the Eastern Caliphate. At the appropriate moment, a single bomb fell from the plane and a laser sight guided it toward its target. The ten megaton yield neutron bomb detonated one hundred feet above the palace, obliterating it and every structure within a five mile radius. The flight crew could not have known that the center of Tehran had been evacuated and lines of vehicles stretched out into the countryside carrying much of the population. The caliph, his family and top government officials were now hiding in Islamabad.

  §

  Shirley Cambridge was outside the convention center in Savannah signing books and autographs following her presentation. At least one hundred people stood in line for their chance to meet this remarkable woman. Shirley spent a minute or two with each person, chatting about the session and asking their opinions. It took two hours until the last person in line made it to the front. Other than Shirley and her crew, the location was deserted. The last man in line stepped forward and removed his hood; it was Josh Carpenter. “Oh my God, Josh, what are you doing here?”

  “Well, I had a quiet day, so I thought I’d see how you are?”

  “I’m good. Did you enjoy your walk on the beach?”

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t get to do that. I had a few interruptions, you know how it goes,” he replied. “How about dinner?”

  “Josh, you know we talked about this. I don’t think the time is right.”

  “It’s just dinner, Shirley.”

  “Josh, please. Let’s just let this go for now, okay?” she begged.

  “Sorry, take care,” Josh said as he turned and walked away. As he moved, he slowly faded until she could not see him any longer. “Okay, let’s pack it up and get out of here.” In the distance, she could see Josh approaching again. “Oh, shit!” she moaned, “Now what?”

  As he moved closer, something seemed different. The figure was wearing the same jeans and a hoodie, but seemed much taller. When he arrived, he pulled off his hood, revealing a shaved head and thin mustache. “Ms. Cambridge, I presume,” he said in a French accent. “I am Henri Sattu.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re packing up and heading out of town. How can I help you?”

  “I wish to discuss two of our common acquaintances, Hammond Finch and Joshua Carpenter.”

  She began to tremble and stuttered, “I don’t know what you mean.” Her three assistants approached to find out what was going on.

  “You will, Ms. Cambridge, you will,” he chuckled. Before they could react, he pulled two pistols, shooting Shirley in the chest with the left one and then firing on her staff with the right. Shirley fell to the ground with the anesthetic dart sticking into her chest. The other three lay dying in pools of their own blood. As he dropped the two weapons, he said, “Perhaps now I will have Joshua’s full attention.” He morphed into the beast, grabbed her and took to the air. Within a minute, two police cars arrived on scene.

  §

  Josh was sitting on a chair in front of a roaring fire in Emmanuel Judah’s cabin, or at least a cabin identical to it of his own creation, or so he imagined. The serenity of this false world made him feel safe and secure. Neither Finch nor Sattu could possibly find him here. Shirley’s admonition of him had cut him deeply, and he wanted to be away from everyone and everything. He sipped his glass of whisky and wondered why he did not think to create an icemaker. Josh was very tired after facing death from Hammond Finch and the demons in the diner. The only good moment he remembered was trying to save the caliphate army. He smiled when he saw their faces watching him cross the minefield. But of course, there were no mines. The appearance of a minefield made the army stop so he could save them and the caliph. His eyes closed and he drifted off, the glass slipping from his hand and falling to the floor.

  He dreamed he was walking in a huge refrigerated room, full of silver and glass cigar-shaped chambers. He walked along a line of the chambers and noticed there was a person in each. Their expressions were half-smiles and they looked frozen. Each had a nameplate, but the words were blurred. There were men and women of all races and nationalities in those chambers, and it seemed odd they would all be in this place. Cryogenics had been abandoned a hundred years ago since there was no safe way to thaw and reanimate a person at the time. Perhaps this was an old facility that had not been located yet. At the end of the line of chambers was an elevator door. He pushed a button and the door opened. Once inside, he noticed a keypad and a small LCD screen. He tapped numbers onto the pad and the door closed. He watched the floors fly by on the display above the door. It took a long time, but the door finally opened again. The display read “500.” He stepped out of the elevator car and entered another similar room, except it seemed even colder than the first. He began to shiver and rubbed his hands along his arms to warm himself. At the far side of the room, he saw one chamber was open, so he hurried toward it. He was getting close when an odd feeling overcame him and he stopped. He walked over to the nearest chamber and looked inside. There was a bleached skeleton inside and the door was not sealed. The nameplate read “Christopher Judah.” He wretched in revulsion at the sight. He hurried to the next, which was also ajar with the nameplate “Constance Judah.” It was another skeleton, except this one was missing the skull. He ran to the next and looked inside. Shirley Cambridge was inside and looked fine, although clearly frozen. Her nameplate read “Shirley Sattu.” He backed away quickly and began to tremble. When he recovered, he walked to the last chamber, the one with the lid open. It was empty. He pulled the lid down to see if there was a nameplate. There was and it read “Joshua Carpenter.”

  He stood there staring at the empty chamber for a long time, and wondering how all of this could have happened. “What does it mean?” he shouted. He heard a person clearing his throat behind him and spun around, ready for a fight. “Manny, is that you?”

  Emmanuel Judah looked older than the universe. His white hair was very thin and patchy, while his skin was almost transparent, displaying his veins beneath. He was bent over and walked toward him with a severe limp. “Joshua, why are you here?”

  “What is this place, Manny?”

  “Joshua, this place does exist, but what you are seeing is a possible future. Please don’t let this happen.”

  “This is my fault? What did I do?”

  “I’m not saying this is a likely future, but it is possible. This is your dream and you need to find out what it means.” The old man walked over to Chris’s chamber and sighed. “Don’t let this happen to my children. You are their only hope.”

  There was a pounding sound all over the room. “What’s happening, Manny?”

  “You are their only hope, Joshua.”

  He opened his eyes to find himself still sitting in the chair in the cabin. Someone was knocking on the door. Josh stood, walked over and opened it. Connie Judah was standing outside with a tray carrying several dishes. “Hi, Josh.”

  “Connie, what a surprise, please come in. What brings you here?”

  “You’ve had quite a day, and you probably didn’t eat anything,” she smiled as she set the tray down on the table. “Come and sit down, Josh, and let’s have a bite.”

  Josh had not realized how hungry he was until he took his first mouthful of the rich beef stew Connie had provided. There was also a fresh baguette and butter. He was pushing the food into his mouth as fast as he could. “This is great, Connie. Thank you for thinking of me.”

  “No problem, Josh. Frankly, I’m a bit surprised you chose to be in this cabin again.”

  “It’s nothing surprising, Connie. This place is like anoth
er world, and I really needed to be away from everyone. How did you find me?” She did not respond, but rose and walked over to the kitchen area and grabbed a towel, and then went to the fireplace and picked up the glass he had dropped and mopped up the liquor on the floor. “You don’t have to do that, Connie.”

  “It’s no problem, Josh, I’m glad to help,” she smiled at him. She returned to the kitchen counter and pulled open a drawer, revealing a bin full of ice. She put a few cubes into Josh’s glass and another, then added fresh whisky to both and returned to the table. “Here’s mud in your eye, Josh.” They touched their glasses together and sipped the drink. “Josh, first of all, this place is real, not some parallel universe. We’re actually in Idaho. Also, I’m getting worried about you.”

  “Why? I’m fine.”

  “The situation with the Sattu family is totally out of control. Henri has already overstepped his bounds and is directly interfering with people’s lives, which is strictly forbidden.” She reached across the small table and held his left hand. “Do you know what that means?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She sighed heavily and looked down. After a moment, she looked up at Josh with tears in her eyes. “There has always been equilibrium between Armand and my father. Both seek to motivate people to act in certain ways, but neither would directly intervene. Does that make sense?”

  “Not really. Why don’t you just say what you mean, and cut the crap about equilibrium and motivation?”

  “Josh, my family and the Sattu family are not human beings, at least not anymore. Is that clear enough?” He stood up and backed away from the table in shock. “Come on, Josh, you already knew all of this, didn’t you?” He shook his head violently. “So, the bomber on the plane and those old men in the diner today were just regular guys, right? And everyone turns into flying demons whenever they want, isn’t that true?”