by Mark Wandrey
“I figured, and it is out of orbit. You certainly saw something, probably a collision or something strong enough to shove it off course.”
“Thanks, but it’s not what I thought it was. I’m still going to look like a bloody idiot.”
“I don’t agree. I’ll help you write a report so we can throw it in the face of those old assholes at the Association.”
“
I appreciate that,” Alicia said and signed off. A moment later the asteroid disappeared as the Earth blocked the view for another day, leaving her staring at a dark screen. She ran back the data showing her the best image she’d captured of LM-245. Its irregular shape was unmistakable, even its dark and light pockmarked surface was distinguishable. She saved the data and shut down the observatory to go inside. Maybe it will be enough to get a retraction by the Association, she hoped as she went inside. But as she went to mend the cup she’d broken earlier she couldn’t escape the feeling that something was wrong with the image of her old asteroid. It looked almost too familiar.
April 20
“Asteroid Appears on Schedule,” read the headline in the days science section. Harper flipped though the stories.
Apparently some amateur British astronomer claimed the asteroid was destroyed or pushed off course by forces unknown and the rock’s reappearance put the stake through her heart. He moved on.
Usually Harper just scanned the sports section, read a few comics and went back to work. Lately he found himself watching science and technology for any mention of what was in Central Park. There had not been a single word.
Many things were going on around the world. The most fascinating and disturbing were in China. Harper figured he was among a small minority who had seen the Portal in Beijing. The dozens of news bureaus around the city who had raced there to photograph the disturbances had since been moved almost a mile back by the Chinese military. The international press was beside themselves to explain what was happening. Since the horrifying events at Tiananmen Square many years ago, the Chinese communist government made great strides in human rights and liberties. Its people’s standard of living had risen slowly, but it still rose. Even groups like Amnesty International were harassing other nations for a change. Now, out of the blue, and for no apparent reason, tens of thousands have streamed into Tiantan Park, taking control of that place and scaring the hell out of the city residents. Harper knew what was behind the spectacle.
The report went on to describe that most of those involved in the disturbance were academics and suppressed religious followers. As time passed the ranks were swelling to include common people of all types. Those sneaking out of the park to bring back food and supplies were arrested by the police and hauled off kicking and screaming, some going on to commit suicide in prison. The press managed to interview some of those who had been on the outside of the crowd. They seemed to be experiencing some sort of religious rapture and were nearly unintelligible in their fervor. They spoke about the Portal to Heaven being ready to open and how it must be protected from the unholy rulers of China until the Emperor could return and open the Portal.
All manner of talking heads said this was a resurgence of emperor worship and was to be expected after generations of communist rule. Others, experts in Chinese mythology, spoke of the significance of this location to the religious revival. Tiantan Park was the home of the Temple of Heaven where the emperors led prayers for the empire’s prosperity and successful harvests.
An effort to contact Jin Yuzhang, the last known surviving direct relative to a Chinese emperor, had been unsuccessful. The Chinese government exercised what they described as “considerable patience”, but was tiring of a prominent tourist attraction full of unruly dissidents. A government representative had delivered an ultimatum to be out of the park by April 25th or they would be removed by force. Several international experts in negotiations were in route to hopefully defuse the nearly two month old standoff.
There was little more of interest as Harper finished his paper. Pakistan was accusing India of developing a doomsday weapon in, of all places, the Delhi Golf Course just south of the city center. And in Buenos Aries a riot had been raging for a week. City police and what was described as anarchists were jousting back and forth for control of the eastern district of the ancient city.
“Seems the world is discontented,” Harper said and dropped the paper in the garbage can. He waved to his neighbor, Mr. Nebowitz who was taking out his garbage, and jumped in the unmarked cruiser.
Some hours later he got back in his car after taking a statement from a man who’d had his shop broken into. Harper scanned the police computer for assignments and general hot sheet updates. One thing he saw made him curse. An arrest warrant was issued for Victor Leonard Smith, arrested on March 17th, arraigned on minor drug possession (a class c felony), scheduled for trial January 10 next year and released on his own recognizance pending trial. The complaint section of the warrant said “wanted for questioning by federal authorities”.
“I knew they would catch up with him sooner or later,” Harper mumbled as he started the car. From over the sun visor he removed a cheap paper card, glanced at the address and pulled into traffic. “Abel-five-two-nine going ten-seven for a bite,” he said into his radio.
“Ten-four, abel-five-two-nine,” came the reply. A few minutes’ drive and he pulled up in front of the address on the card. Over the door of the one-time porno theater was a cheap vinyl banner proclaiming 'Followers of the Avatar'. An anonymous woman had given him the card two days ago after she'd asked him his name. He had no doubt at the time that Victor was behind it.
Outside, the sidewalk was crowded with dozens of people, many wearing purple scarves, and most talking excitedly with a wild-eyed fervent look of deep belief in something only they understand. “What have I started?” he wondered aloud as he got out of the car.
“Cops are here, Duke,” yelled one of the purple-scarf-wearing believers standing near the curb.
“You gotcha a warrant cop?” said one of the biggest African-American men he'd ever seen in his life. The guy was easily seven foot tall. It was a warm spring morning in New York and he went without a shirt, displaying muscles like steel bands.
“I need a warrant to come talk to someone?”
“If you wanna go inside you do. We got’s us a lease, all legal-like.”
“Finding God in a porno palace?”
“No, we found God in Central Park. We’re just telling people about it in a porno palace.”
“Cute. Do I get inside or not?”
“Probably not. Who you want to see?”
“I’m here to see Victor.” Duke stiffened up and stepped sideways to block the way into the theater. “I’m a friend,” Harper said and immediately felt stupid.
“I’m sure you are.”
“Look, just tell him Billy Harper is here.”
“You’re Harper, Lieutenant Harper?”
“That’s my name.”
“Shit man, why didn’t you say that. Come on in.” The big guy turned around and parted the crowd of people, holding the gilded theater door open. Harper raised an eyebrow and decided to follow. But just in case he still kept a hand in his coat pocket where his backup pistol rested.
The inside of the theater was mostly unchanged from its days as a monument to masturbation. More lighting was in place, pronouncing to all that what went on now was not to be hidden in the dark. The concession stand that once sold sleazy videos along with condoms, cigarettes and wet naps was now a soup line. Hungry, tired and obviously homeless people were lined up. Each person got a bowl of soup, a sandwich, a soda and a pamphlet. On benches in the lobby people sat and ate, some of them read the pamphlet; others were having it read to them by someone wearing a purple scarf.
“Can I have one of those?” he asked of a purple-scarved redhead who was distributing pamphlets. She smiled and handed one over. On the cover it proclaimed in black text on purple paper, “The Avatar of God has delivered the Port
al to Heaven!” He shook his head in amazement. It wasn’t a glossy job like many of the Christian missionaries used, but it looked good enough.
“This way, man,” Duke said, his golden grill flashing. He held open the door to the auditorium and Harper followed him. Like the lobby, the auditorium was also well lit. Of the two hundred-fifty seats nearly half were filled. Most sat by themselves, a few in groups. Some were eating, others reading, a few sleeping, but most were watching the stage.
In days gone by the porno palace was once a Broadway theater. The Followers of the Avatar had cut down the tattered silver screen and the faded drapes exposing a yellowing stage of hardwood that probably had a lot of stories to tell. At the moment Victor was on stage telling his story. In the intervening weeks the tale had gotten much more refined than when Harper first heard it. An embellishment perhaps here and there, but certainly told with much more self-assuredness and statesmanship. This Victor was as far from the one he’d arrested as you could imagine.
“Quite impressive, ain’t he?” asked Duke with another big smile.
“Haven’t I met you before?” he asked the big black man.
“Sure, you busted me a couple years ago.”
“Your name wasn’t Duke, though. What did you do, strong arm an old lady or something?” Duke looked down with regret on his face.
“Duke is my name now, officer. I ain’t the same person I was.” Harper looked at him for a moment then shrugged, walking down the aisle toward the stage. Several other people sat talking near the stage. Harper recognized one of them and shook his head in surprise.
“Aren’t you Captain Hicks?!” he asked the tall balding man with a scarf occupying the steps to the stage.
“I was. My name is Gabriel now. Lt. Harper, isn’t it?”
“Certainly. What is a cop doing with this group?”
“I’m not a cop, Lieutenant. Haven’t been one for about five years. You remember my little fall from grace?” Harper nodded. “Now I help to understand the Avatar’s meaning and follow Victor.”
“Amazing. Can I speak to his holiness?” Gabriel frowned at Harper’s little impertinence but made no comment. Instead he turned his head and listened to Victor for a moment.
“He should be done in about five minutes. You want something to eat?”
“No, I’m fine. You guys must be getting a lot of money from these people to feed everyone who asks.”
“We take no money from the street. We have other sources.”
“Mind if I ask what that source is?”
Gabriel smiled darkly. “Is this an official investigation, Lt. Harper?”
“Not at this point. No, I’m here to see Victor as a friend, even though he has a warrant out for his arrest.” Instantly Gabriel was fully alert, fairly jumping to his feet and scanning the crowd. “Don’t worry, I haven’t reported his location, and I probably won't. I’m too curious of the game at this point.”
“Well, our funding is anonymous and comes from donations over the web. We got about five thousand dollars the first day our site was up, and never less per day since then.”
“Wow, I’m amazed.” Harper looked up at Victor where he was talking to the audience. The man didn’t seem to have changed at all; in fact he was wearing the same clothes. He was cleaner, and looking even more fanatical, but otherwise unchanged. He stood and listened for a moment.
“And it was that moment,” Victor was saying, “that the Angel of God, His Avatar, turned to look at me. It was a being truly of Heaven, for nothing like it walked the surface of Earth in our times. Like the mythical centaur, the Avatar was, and I thought of those ancient Greek myths. Was there truth to what they spoke about? Its arms were long and strangely jointed and its legs just as strange. And the eyes! They instantly drew your attention, the only real feature on its head. No mouth, no ears, no nose. And a powerful intelligence radiated from this being as it looked at me, picking me out where I stood and smiled at me. How did I know a creature without a face was smiling at me? Because it touched my soul!”
“He’s quite convincing,” said Harper.
“You have no idea,” Gabriel smiled.
“Good afternoon Lt. Harper.” He looked up and into the smiling face of the Prophet Victor, now standing on the edge of the stage. “I’m a little surprised you made it in here; some of my disciples can be a tad exuberant in their defense of my interests.”
“Are all these people your disciples?”
“No, only a few. Gabriel and Duke you’ve already met. There is Mary over there talking to those teenagers, Paul was serving food up front and Kadru is out working the street.”
“Amazing to have so many people dedicate their lives to you in such a short period of time.”
“They haven’t dedicated their lives to me; it’s in pursuit of the Avatar’s will, and God’s plan behind that.” Victor looked at him, his eyes narrowing. “Are you here on an investigation, officer?” To the side Gabriel smirked.
“I’m here to tell you there is a warrant out for your arrest.” Gabriel's smile faltered and Duke took a step closer to Victor.
“Are you here to serve that warrant?”
“No, I’m not. And in doing that I am putting my job in danger. I want you to understand that.”
“Then I’m in your debt yet again, but confused as to why you would take the risk.”
“I don’t quite understand myself,” Harper admitted and looked around, suddenly feeling out of place. “Something is happening, not just here, but around the world. Did you know there is more than one of these Portals?”
Victor went from looking concerned to confused. He cocked his head and started to say something, but then stopped. “Did you say more than one?”
“Yes, there is one in Beijing, and maybe elsewhere. Many cities around the world have disturbances, riots, and other problems. I think they might have to do with those Portals. But it’s too big for me to figure out.”
“It’s too big for any mortal to understand,” Victor agreed. He stepped forward and sat on the edge of the stage, leaning forward and bringing his head roughly level with the officer. “Your news is just reinforcing to me. No one knows the will of God. The Avatars are working His plan, influencing us to work His will. Even your being here to give me this news is His will.”
“You’re talking like I’m one of your disciples, Victor.”
“You would be most welcome as one of us, Bill.”
It wasn't lost on the detective that Victor was now addressing him by his first name. The changes to this street prophet were more profound that at first glance. “I’ve got work to do,” Harper said and turned to go, “you better be careful who sees you. That warrant is federal. Some big agent from the NSA is in charge, and I suspect he wants to pick your brain for a year or two.”
Harper strode up the aisle and out of the auditorium, Victor watching him all the way out through the faded curtains. “We’ve got a problem,” said Gabriel, “I knew him when he was a rookie. The kid's gonna report you in, sooner or later, mark my words.”
“We’d be best to get you somewhere safe until we can figure what to do,” Duke agreed.
“Jesus didn’t run when he knew they were coming to take him for trial,” Victor pointed out. “He too had his Judas, but I don’t think Lt. Harper will be mine.” The other two looked at him and tried to understand what he was thinking. “I will not run from this calling. We stay.”
If the spraycrete dome could possibly hold more equipment, Dr. George Osgood didn’t know how. A pair of new entrances had been cut, each nearly the size of the activated Portal. Since there was no longer any concern about contamination, the airlock was removed making access easier. The doors were big, wide, automatic garage types, each tall enough to admit a medium-sized truck. As the sun went down, a small convoy of army trucks raced toward the dome from where they'd been parked in alleys a few miles away.
From her vantage point in the woods a half mile away, a young Indian girl observed their ar
rival through binoculars. Nearby sat a little cooler holding soda and snacks. Besides that was a bag for garbage. She’d spent the whole day in her observation post just as she’d spent many days since witnessing the arrival of the Portal. She’d watched Victor come across the park, seen the walls disappear, and watched him confront the Avatar.
As she watched the Humvees and trucks race across the street and into the compound around the Portal dome, she wondered if she were doing the right thing. Sometimes her mind was cloudy and it was all confusing. But, at this moment everything was crystal clear. It was the right thing to do. She lifted the binoculars (a hideously expensive night vision model) and watched the trucks begin to unload black-beret troops and boxes of supplies. Something different was going on tonight. The government agents always moved a lot of equipment each night when no one was looking, but this was different. It had an urgency about it, a more purposeful move.
“They have no right to hide the Portal from us,” she growled and tried to see more. Once or twice she’d tried sneaking up to the fenced perimeter. They had some advanced surveillance systems because she never got close before camouflaged agents appeared to warn her away. The newly installed garage doors raised and she was rewarded with a rare glimpse inside. The Portal was still there; tantalizingly close through the view of the binoculars. As the men worked, she plotted.
Not far away, someone else watched through a surveillance scope. Lieutenant Billy Harper chewed a Philly cheese steak sandwich and made mental notes of how many men he saw. Since they'd chased off the NYPD, the number of feds involved had jumped drastically. Harper just couldn't imagine why there were more of them every day. What were they planning?
Earlier he was at home surfing the Followers of the Avatar website, or FotA for short. He was again amazed at the level of sophistication achieved in only days. The site was professionally crafted and easy to navigate. He wondered how a tiny ministry of ex-street people operating out of a condemned porn palace could afford the kind of skill it took to build such a website, practically overnight. Harper guessed someone donated that time as well. The site was even listed on the most powerful Internet search engines, and he knew that wasn't cheap.
