The Nosferatu Chronicles: Return to Vambiri

by Susan Hamilton

  *******

  Garden of Gethsemane, 30 AD

  “Father Creator,” prayed Jesus. “Remove the cup of wrath from which you would have me drink.”

  He prayed with such fervent devotion that his sweat was transformed into blood. The voice of the Father Creator spoke to him and gave him courage to face what was to come.

  “Did you hear the voice?” Jesus asked Peter.

  When he received no reply, he turned and saw that Peter, James, and John had once again fallen asleep.

  Just after Jesus roused them, Judas Iscariot arrived with a multitude of soldiers, priests, and Pharisees to arrest Jesus. Judas identified him by a prearranged signal of a kiss. Malchus, a servant of one of the priests, came forward to take Jesus into custody, but Peter drew his sword and attacked Malchus, slicing off his right ear.

  “Sheathe your sword,” said Jesus to Peter. “I must drink from the cup the Father Creator has prepared for me.”

  Picking up the severed ear, Jesus pressed it against the side of Malchus’s head. It briefly glowed, and when Jesus removed his hand, the ear had been perfectly reattached.

  *******

  Calvary

  Outskirts of Jerusalem

  30 AD

  Mary prayed for the torment to end. She recounted the words spoken by the voice on the night her son was conceived. He was to be king of Jacob’s people forever. She remembered the star that had guided the shepherds and magi to the place she had given birth. The gift of myrrh had troubled her, but all mortals die — she just never imagined that her precious son would be so horribly betrayed and meet such a violent, ignoble end.

  She had begun the day by witnessing Jesus being scourged with the flagrum, a short whip with small balls lead tied near the ends of each thong. It was brought down in full force again and again across the shoulders, back, and legs. At first, the heavy thongs only cut through the skin, but the succeeding blows cut through the subcutaneous tissues, which produced an oozing of blood from the capillaries, followed by spurting arterial bleeding from vessels in the underlying muscles. The whip then tore into the exposed muscles and produced ribbons of bleeding flesh.

  The tormentors mocked her son by driving a crown of thorns into his scalp and returning his robe to him, only to rip it off once the blood on his back had dried and adhered to both the robe and the tattered skin.

  There was an abundance of pooled blood on the tiled floor, and as Jesus was taken away, many rushed forward and used strips of linen cloth to soak it up.

  The long walk to Calvary was next. The crossbar that was placed across his nape and shoulders weighed over a hundred pounds. Already weak from blood loss and in excruciating pain, Jesus stumbled and fell repeatedly, and the Romans ordered a bystander, Simon of Cyrene, to carry the cross part of the way.

  More pain was coming.

  Upon reaching Calvary, iron spikes measuring six inches long were driven into his wrists and feet, which were full of sensory nerves. Agonizing shots of pain coursed through his body.

  When the cross was placed upright, the nailed wrists carried the weight of his body and began to tear. His breathing was hindered by gravity pulling the body down on the outstretched arms and shoulders, and he attempted to avoid the stretching torment by pushing himself upward, shifting his full weight to the nail through his feet, which only served to bring on a new agony.

  “My Father! My Creator! Why have you forsaken me?” he shouted as waves of pain washed over him.

  After a time, he was able to put his thoughts together and speak to the crowd, saying he forgave them and offering encouragement to the two convicts who were being crucified on either side, telling them they would all soon be together in Paradise. He cried out to his Father Creator that he committed his Spirit into His hands.

  Lifting his head, he saw his mother on her knees, prostrate with grief. Powerless to comfort her, he thought of how difficult the rest of her life would be after this day.

  “Take care of my mother!” he called out to Peter, who was standing beside her.

  With tears rolling down his cheeks, Peter nodded his understanding.

  The next hours were spent in a vicious cycle — he would push up on the nail through his feet in order to breathe, then the nerve endings in the feet would force him to relent, and once again the weight of his body would pull down on his nailed wrists, and his constricted lungs made breathing next to impossible.

  Just before slipping into unconsciousness from asphyxia, Jesus attempted to speak, but no sound escaped his parched throat.

  “He wants to speak!” cried someone in the crowd. “Give him the wine so that he may speak!”

  It was the custom of the Romans to offer a man being crucified drugged wine so that he might more easily endure his cross. Jesus had refused it — he was determined to go through his suffering with a clear mind. But the end was near, and in order to speak, he sucked on the sponge that the soldiers had dipped in the wine and uttered his final words.

  “It is accomplished!”

  As he breathed his last, a great thunderclap roared through Calvary, and the ground shook.

  Only a few hours of the Sabbath remained. Joseph of Arimathea, Mary’s uncle, arrived on the scene with Nicodemus and a linen shroud that had been hastily purchased. After being shown the written permission given by Pontius Pilate for Arimathea to claim the body of Jesus, the Romans ensured he was dead by piercing his side with a spear, which ruptured his lungs and heart. The deed was done by an old centurion, Cassius Longinus, a battle-scarred veteran who was nearly blind. The fluid from Jesus gushed out into the eyes of Longinus, and as he wiped it away, his full sight was restored.

  “Surely this was the Son of God!” exclaimed Longinus.

  “Quick!” said Arimathea to the disciple John. “Give me something to collect the blood that performed this miracle!”

  John produced the wooden cup that Jesus had used at the Last Supper and handed it to Arimathea. Immediately after the betrayal by Judas, John had taken it in anguish, knowing that his beloved mentor would soon be put to death, and the cup would be the only memento he would have of their last precious moments together.

  Longinus stayed behind after the Romans departed and helped Arimathea and Nicodemus take the body down from the cross. They gently laid it before Mary, who removed the crown of thorns before cradling the lifeless head in her lap.

  Time was running short.

  Longinus gathered the nails he had extracted from Jesus’s wrists and feet and reverently placed them next to the crown of thorns.

  Mary, along with her sister and Mary Magdalene, hastily washed and anointed the body with herbs then wrapped it in the linen shroud. Arimathea provided his own tomb for Jesus, since there was no time to arrange anything else. He, along with Nicodemus and John, struggled to roll the massive stone into place at the entrance. Their sad task was completed with just minutes to spare.

  As they walked home, the full moon began to rise. It took on a rusty hue, as it always did when it was low in the horizon, but a lunar eclipse resulted in it briefly disappearing from sight, to the great consternation of those who witnessed it.

  *******

  Three Days Later

  Palace of Pontius Pilate

  “The prophecy says he will rise on the third day,” said the Pharisee, who headed the delegation sent by Caiaphas.

  “What’s that got to do with me?” asked Pontius Pilate.

  “Of course, it won’t happen,” said the Pharisee, “but his followers could fake his resurrection by removing the body. Didn’t Tiberius order you to put an end to his cult? He’ll become a larger figure in death than he ever was in life if they get away with such a deception.”

  “No one is stopping you from posting guards,” said Pilate.

  “With respect, sir,” said the Pharisee, “it was Roman law that convicted him.”

  “It was Caiaphas who turned him over to Rome in order to avoid the wrath of the ignorant rabble that supported his cult,
” retorted Pilate.

  “Our efforts behind the scene to keep the peace with Rome will be compromised if we are seen guarding the tomb,” said the Pharisee.

  Pilate sighed. “If you had told me about this prophecy beforehand, I would never have given permission for Arimathea to take possession of the body. It would have been disposed of on a pyre for all to see, and that would have solved everything.”

  The delegation remained silent, waiting for Pilate to respond to their specific request. Pilate knew they were right, but it rankled him to be put in this position.

  “I’ll dispatch a watch to the tomb,” grunted Pilate.

  “Ten disciples remain,” protested the Pharisee. “A standard quaternion would be outnumbered.”

  Pilate waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Four veterans who were in the thick of fighting can easily defeat a handful of pacifists,” he said. “Your audience is now at an end. Begone!”

  *******

  Tomb of Joseph of Arimathea

  The four guards encircled the giant stone with thick ropes and secured them in place with melted wax. The official seal of Pilate was stamped repeatedly into the wax. Anyone daring to tamper with an official seal would suffer the same fate as the tomb’s occupant.

  Each guard would keep watch for three hours while the others slept. They had done it many times before and were used to the rotation. During the third watch, there was a huge thunderclap and the ground shook just as it had the moment Jesus died. The three sleeping guards awoke with a start, and all of them witnessed a red beam emanating from a blinding, white light. The red-hot beam easily vaporized the rope at the point of contact, and the huge stone was rolled aside by an invisible force within the light.

  What happened immediately after that, they could not say. As soon as the stone began to roll, they cowered in fear and dared not look into the light.

  When the light had dissipated, they gingerly stepped into the tomb and saw that it was empty.

  “What shall we do?” asked one of the guards. “Pilate will have us executed for abandoning our post! He won’t believe that a ray of light cut through the ropes and moved the stone!”

  “Let’s go to the Pharisees,” said another. “They’ll think of something.”

  “They don’t care what happens to four Romans!” exclaimed the first.

  “They’ll care, alright, if the story of the ray of light gets out,” said the other. “They don’t want any hint of a resurrection. They’ll smooth things over with Pilate. It’s our only chance! If we deal with Roman authorities, it means certain execution.”

  *******

  Palace of Pontius Pilate

  “A mob of his supporters descended on them,” explained the Pharisee to Pilate. “The four guards were no match for them.”

  “I want to hear it from them!” roared Pilate.

  “And you shall,” said the Pharisee, “but I am here as a witness on their behalf — I saw the mob heading for the tomb. By the time I had gathered enough men to investigate, the guards had been overpowered and the body stolen. His followers will no doubt claim that he is risen.”

  The Pharisee paused for a moment to give Pilate time to think about his actions. “If you have the guards executed,” he continued, “then there will be no witnesses left to testify that the body was stolen. The cult of Jesus will grow exponentially.”

  Pilate sighed. “You’re right. Tell the guards they have nothing to fear.”

  “As you wish,” said the Pharisee with a bow.

  The guards never returned to make an official report. Although the Pharisee paid them a large sum of money to keep quiet about the ray of light and stick to the story of the mob stealing the body, the guards did not believe that Pilate would spare them. They used the money instead to assume new identities in lands not occupied by Rome.

  The Pharisees were still able to use the situation to their advantage, claiming that the only explanation for the missing guards was that they had been killed by the disciples of Jesus, who had stolen his body.

  *******

  Forty Days Later

  After sharing a meal on the Mount of Olives, Jesus spoke to the disciples. “The time has come,” he said, “but remember, I am with you always.”

  “Lord,” they asked him, “will you now restore the kingdom to Israel?”

  “It is not for you to know the time or season of the Father Creator,” he answered, “but you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you shall be witnesses to me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

  The clouds above them swirled and encircled Jesus, lifting him above them. They watched as he was carried higher and higher into the clouds until they enclosed him, and he was no longer visible. Two shimmering, translucent figures then appeared on the ground and spoke to the disciples.

  “Men of Galilee, why do you continue to gaze up into Heaven? Jesus, who was taken up from you into Heaven, will one day return in the same manner.”

  RECRUITS

  Lifeboat, Arctic Circle

  2044 AD

  “Professor Douglass,” said Tariq, “welcome to Arctic Station. I’m Tariq. We spoke earlier.”

  “Thank you, Tariq,” said Devonna. “I wasn’t aware NASA had such an elaborate setup.”

  “The satellite laser ranging station is run by NASA,” he said. “The rest of the compound was built with private funding. Our research projects involve telescopic lasers, and we have a mutually beneficial partnership with NASA that allows us the use of the telescope while we see to the upkeep of the station.”

  “What sort of research is done here?” asked Devonna.

  “Arctic Station is one of a global network of space geodetic stations which measure and monitor the size and shape of the Earth, its orientation in space, the exact location of points on its surface, and how these locations change over time,” explained Tariq. “This network provides fundamental data for satellite and spacecraft navigation.”

  “How are you able to do that?” asked Devonna.

  “The ground-based laser transmits ultrashort laser pulses aimed at satellites that have been specifically equipped with an array of special mirrors to bounce the pulses back,” he said. “The system measures the time it takes for the light to travel back to its point of origin, which is how we determine the position of the satellite with respect to the ground station.”

  “Impressive,” said Devonna. “How do the privately funded projects differ from NASA research?”

  “For NASA, laser ranging is important to understanding where their spacecraft are, as well as where on Earth their measurements are located,” said Tariq. “Laser ranging is essential for satellites requiring very precise positioning measurements. This station tracks over ninety satellites with this technique.”

  “And what is your privately funded group interested in?” she asked.

  “The laser ranging observations are the basis for setting coordinates for all locations on Earth’s surface,” he explained. “The reference frame is used to measure the positions of objects in space with respect to Earth.”

  “What kind of objects in space?” she asked.

  “Ah,” said Tariq indicating a doorway. “Here we are. Jasper and the others are waiting.”

  Once Devonna was inside, she saw a group of people sitting at an elaborate conference table. The man at the head bore a remarkable resemblance to Jasper, but his youthful appearance went far beyond what could be accomplished with plastic surgery.

  “Jasper?” she asked.

  “Hello, Twofer,” he said. “It’s really me.”

  “I was at your retirement party over five years ago!” she exclaimed. “And what of Nadia? Is she here as well, looking every bit as young as you?”

  Since transformed humans had lifespans of over a thousand Earth years, those like Jasper who were prominent in their respective fields would mimic a natural life span by applying aging make-up and would eventually disconnect fro
m the public for several years. They would then reemerge, pretending to be a younger relative of their former selves.

  “Nadia will be joining us later. I hope to explain everything else to your satisfaction,” he said. “Won’t you please sit down?”

  As Devonna warily sat down, she could feel her heartbeat quicken. Something was not right with this “research group.”

  “Allow me to introduce my colleagues,” he continued. “You met Tariq at the helipad, and this is Emanui and J’Vor.”

  “No surnames?” asked Devonna.

  “We have no need for last names,” explained Jasper. “We have considered ourselves a family for many years.”

  “Jasper,” said Devonna, “I’m getting the distinct feeling that I was brought here under false pretenses. I was told my work was needed for a NASA research project, and when your name was specifically mentioned, I agreed to come.”

  “Your work is of paramount importance to our research — a cooperative but separate project with NASA,” said Jasper. “During the years in which I oversaw NASA projects, I found your ideas to be the most innovative and original. As you know, recently a wormhole briefly formed in the Kuiper Belt.”

  “Well,” said Devonna, “that’s what we suspect, but we can’t prove it with just a few seconds of data.”

  “Assume, for the moment, that a wormhole has been confirmed,” said Jasper. “That would mean wormhole technology is a reality — a reality that can be understood and duplicated.”

  “Before we entered the room,” said Tariq to Devonna, “you asked about space objects. We were tracking something in the Kuiper Belt. It was pulled in by the wormhole, and we have the telemetry.”

  “But you told me earlier that you can only track objects that have been fitted with special mirrors to reflect the telescopic laser,” she said.

  “The object was fitted with them,” said Jasper.

  “In the Kuiper Belt!” she exclaimed. “That means it would have been launched around thirty years ago.”

  “That’s correct,” said Jasper.

  “When you were a mere child, judging by your present appearance,” she scoffed.