Christopher’s phone beeped, indicating an intercom call from Jackie Hansen. “Mr. Ambassador, Ambassador Tanaka is here to see you,” she said, referring to the representative of Japan who served as the primary member of the Security Council from the Pacific Basin countries.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone,” he said, but it would have been a serious breach of etiquette to keep the ambassador waiting. “Send him in,” he said after a moment.
Ambassador Tanaka was a slender man in his mid-seventies. He had been a primary member for the past seven years and an alternate member for two years before that.
“Mr. Ambassador,” Tanaka began when he came in. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I . . .”
“It’s no intrusion, Mr. Ambassador,” Christopher assured him politely. “What can I do for you?”
The Japanese ambassador looked uncomfortable, as though either he didn’t know how to begin or that what he had planned to say now seemed inappropriate and more difficult than he had anticipated. Christopher waited.
“Mr. Ambassador, as you know, I have long been a supporter of the fine work of Secretary Robert Milner and the Lucius Trust. For many years Secretary Milner has talked of the coming of a ‘Krishnamurti,’ the Ruler of the New Age.” Ambassador Tanaka was obviously uncomfortable talking about this, but even more he was intent upon completing the mission he had begun. Decker tried not to show his own discomfort. “It was said among those at the Trust,” Tanaka continued, “that both Secretary Milner and Alice Bernley would see the Krishnamurti before their deaths. Director Bernley is dead.” Ambassador Tanaka stopped and looked down at the floor. Decker looked at the ceiling and bit the inside of his lower lip, now certain he knew where Ambassador Tanaka’s soliloquy was leading. “Please,” Tanaka pled, “my granddaughter has been stung by the locusts. She is near death.”
“Mr. Ambassador, no one has actually died from the locusts’ stings,” Christopher said, but the interruption did not deter Tanaka.
“Ambassador Goodman, are you the Krishnamurti, the Ruler of the New Age?”
Decker dropped his face into his right hand. He was glad that Ambassador Tanaka wasn’t looking at him. He was sure his anguish would have given away the truth. Peeking up uncomfortably through his fingers he was relieved to see that Christopher was handling the question more calmly.
“Ambassador Tanaka,” Christopher responded, “Secretary Milner has told me of this prophesied ruler as well, but I’m afraid that . . .”
“I know that you healed the people in the UN medical facility,” Tanaka interrupted.
Christopher fell silent. Tanaka continued. “Ms. Love told me that you were seen leaving immediately after the healings occurred,” he said, referring to Gaia Love, who had taken over as director of the Lucius Trust after Alice Bernley’s death. “Please, if you are the Krishnamurti, you must heal my granddaughter. She is very young, only eight years old. She was stung eleven times.”
At that moment the door opened and Decker and Christopher saw Jackie Hansen attempting to block the path of a Japanese man in his mid thirties. In his arms he carried the limp body of a young girl — the ambassador’s granddaughter — tightly wrapped in a thick blue cotton blanket because of her fever. “Sir,” Jackie Hansen was saying, “you cannot go in unannounced.”
“It’s all right,” Christopher said after a moment. “Let him in.”
Jackie let the man pass and closed the door behind him. “This is my son Yasushi and,” Tanaka lovingly pulled the blanket from his granddaughter’s face, “this is my granddaughter Keiko.”
Christopher looked at the girl for a moment and then pulled his gaze away, turning sharply to look out his window. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, “there’s nothing I can do. She should be in a hospital.”
“The doctors say there is nothing they can do,” Tanaka countered. “But you can heal her.”
“I’m sorry,” Christopher said again.
An expression of defeat slowly replaced the look of hope that had been on the ambassador’s face. For a moment Tanaka just stood there as Christopher continued staring out the window. Finally, Tanaka looked at his son and then down at the floor. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Ambassador,” Tanaka said, and motioned toward the door for his son to exit. Christopher continued to look away as Ambassador Tanaka, his son, and granddaughter left, shutting the door behind them.
Christopher turned and looked at the door and then at Decker. Then suddenly, he went to the door and opened it. “Mr. Ambassador,” he called after them. “Ambassador Tanaka,” he said, “please come back.”
Tanaka was back in the office immediately, followed quickly by his son and granddaughter. Christopher stood by the door and closed it as they came in. “Mr. Ambassador, you have put me in a very awkward position,” Christopher said.
“Then you will heal her?” Tanaka asked, hoping to secure a positive response before Christopher could change his mind.
“I will heal her,” Christopher answered. “But I must have your word, and that of your son, that you will not reveal any of this to anyone.” Then almost under his breath he added, “Especially not to Secretary Milner or Ms. Love.”
“Yes, of course. Anything,” Tanaka said, and then turned to his son, who also agreed.
Christopher walked over to the little girl. Carefully, he pulled the blanket back from her face to look at her. One of the welts was on the right side of her forehead, causing the whole side of her face to swell, horribly distorting her tender features. Touching her where the locust had stung, he whispered in Japanese, “Naorimashita,” meaning “you are healed,” and immediately the swelling was gone. Decker looked at Christopher and was struck by what appeared to be a momentary look of foreboding. He had seen that look before.
Ambassador Tanaka pulled the blanket back to see his granddaughter. All of the welts were gone, as was her fever. The look of astonishment was obvious on Ambassador Tanaka’s face. It was clear that even though he had come to Christopher asking for a miracle, he didn’t entirely expect to see one. Dropping to his knees and bowing at Christopher’s feet, he began repeating something in Japanese, which Decker took to be as much worship as it was gratitude.
Christopher bent over to raise him up. “Please, Mr. Ambassador,” Christopher said, “this isn’t necessary. Just do as you have promised. Take her somewhere for a few weeks where no one will ask any questions.”
“Yes. Yes. Of course. Just as you say.”
“Decker,” Christopher said, “would you please have Jackie — as discretely as possible —escort the ambassador, his son, and granddaughter out. Make sure that no one who might have seen them come in sees them leave.”
Decker nodded and left the office to do as Christopher had asked. A moment later he returned and led them out with the ambassador’s granddaughter covered as she had been when they came in. As they reached the door, Christopher stopped Ambassador Tanaka. “Mr. Ambassador,” Christopher said, “one question.”
“Anything,” Tanaka responded.
“Do you have any idea who it was that saw me leaving the UN medical facility after the patients there were healed?”
“I believe it was Ms. Hansen,” Tanaka answered.
Christopher sighed. “Okay. Thank you,” he said. “I assume I’ll be seeing you at the Security Council meeting next Thursday?”
“Yes,” Tanaka said and then bowed. It was a very low bow, especially respectful considering that Ambassador Tanaka seldom kept with the Japanese tradition when he was outside his country.
When Decker returned, Christopher had already called Jackie into his office. Decker assured Christopher that the departure had gone well, and then Jackie continued her explanation.
“I was at the facility trying to comfort Decker,” she said. “I had been there for about half an hour and I left for a moment to go to the restroom. When I returned, I saw you leaving.” Jackie shrugged. “I wanted to ask you about it, but I wasn’t sure exactly how. Then yesterday, I ra
n into Gaia Love. I guess I looked like I had something on my mind, and she asked me about it. I tried to be vague, but I said too much. I’m really sorry,” she concluded, with a look of sincere concern.
Christopher shook his head. “It’s all right,” he said reassuringly. “Just don’t say anything to anyone else. And, please, if you have any more questions, ask me.”
Jackie nodded both contrition and agreement and started to leave but turned before she opened the door. “I do have something I’d like to ask,” she said hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“Did you heal the people in the UN medical facility?”
“Yes,” Christopher answered directly.
“And Ambassador Tanaka’s granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
“Then . . . are you the Krishnamurti, the Messiah of the New Age?”
“Yes.”
Jackie threw her arms up, then covered her mouth with her hands. “I knew it! I knew it!”
“Jackie,” Christopher cautioned firmly. “You must not repeat this to anyone.”
“No, sir, I won’t,” she promised. It occurred to Decker that having known him since he was only fourteen years old, Jackie had never before called Christopher “sir,” except in public.
“Thank you, Jackie. Now see if you can get things back to normal with the rest of the office.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I hope that was the right thing to do,” Decker said once she was gone and the door was shut.
“I don’t think I had any choice,” Christopher answered. “If I had told her sooner, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Besides, I’m certain I can trust her.”
Decker moved on to another matter. “When you healed the ambassador’s granddaughter, there was a look on your face, almost like something frightened you.”
Christopher grimaced. “I’m sure it’s nothing really. You remember I told you about the feeling I got when I used astral projection?”
“You said it was like there was a battle nearby.”
“Exactly,” said Christopher. “It was as though someone or something was trying to get to me, and someone or something else was trying to prevent it.” Christopher shrugged.
“And you experienced the same feeling when you healed the girl?”
Christopher nodded. “And when I healed the people at the UN medical facility.”
“I’ve seen that same look on your face before — when we went to see Secretary Milner in the hospital.”
Christopher nodded.
“So every time you’ve had this feeling was when you were doing something . . . supernatural.”
Christopher thought a moment and then nodded, agreeing with Decker’s analysis. “But what does it mean?” he asked.
Decker shook his head and frowned. “There’s another matter we need to work on,” he said after a moment. “What about Gaia Love?”
“I’ll have to call Secretary Milner on that,” Christopher said as he reached for the phone. “She’ll do whatever he says.”
“Are you going to tell him about Ambassador Tanaka’s granddaughter?”
“No. There’s no reason to worry him about that now. Besides,” Christopher said as he began dialing, “Tanaka may not be our only worry. I ‘neglected’ to mention that two of the people I healed at the medical facility were wives of Council members.”
Chapter 11
The Source of These Powers
Six weeks later
New York
Ambassador Christopher Goodman sat back in his favorite chair in the large wood-paneled study of his official residence, watching the news as he sipped from a glass of amaretto on ice. As had been the case since they arrived, the locusts were a major news story. According to the report Christopher was watching, based on computer simulations, there was a 90 percent chance the city would be hit within the next two days by one or more of three nearby major swarms. The city had already shut down all but the most essential operations to keep people in their homes and off the streets.
The doorbell rang and Christopher switched the picture to the camera at the front door. It was Ambassador Toréos of Chilé, the primary member representing South America. It was unusual enough for him to be outside where he was at risk of locust attack, but to arrive unannounced after nine o’clock was singularly peculiar.
Christopher turned off the television and went to greet him.
“Good evening, Mr. Ambassador,” Christopher said. “Come in, come in.”
“Good evening,” Toréos responded, uncomfortably. He knew it wasn’t good protocol to visit without an appointment, but he was determined to speak to Christopher.
Toréos followed Christopher to the study and the two men sat down. “So, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?” Christopher asked.
“Mr. Ambassador,” Toréos began, “may I speak frankly?”
“Certainly,” Christopher responded, and then volunteered: “Mr. Ambassador, if this is about the reforestation project for your region—”
“Actually this involves a far more personal matter,” Toréos said.
Christopher tilted his head slightly to the right and raised an eyebrow. “Well, then . . .” he shook his head in puzzlement, “what can I do for you?”
“Mr. Ambassador, my wife has been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. The doctors say she will die within three months. I have never been a religious man, but in these days, who can deny there are greater powers?” Ambassador Toréos paused and took a deep breath. Christopher didn’t interrupt. “I have heard that you have the power to heal. I have been told that you were responsible for the unexplained recoveries at the UN medical facility after the first attack by the locusts and that you healed Ambassador Tanaka’s granddaughter.”
Christopher closed his eyes and let out a barely audible groan.
“If you have this power,” Toréos continued, “I plead with you, I beg you . . . heal my wife. She is a good woman. I could not live without her. Please, do not let her die.” Ambassador Toréos waited for a reply. Christopher would have to answer.
“What would you have me do, Mr. Ambassador?” Christopher responded finally. “Where is your wife?”
“She is at our home in Santiago.”
“Can she travel?”
“No, Mr. Ambassador.”
Christopher frowned and sighed at the same time. “That’s a long trip. I don’t know how soon I can get away.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Ambassador,” Toréos interrupted. “I did not mean to make you travel all the way to Chilé.” Christopher’s expression became puzzled. “If you have the power to heal,” Toréos continued, “just say the word and she will be healed.”
Christopher leaned back slowly in his chair, folded his hands and smiled, more to himself it seemed than at Ambassador Toréos. “You are right, Mr. Ambassador,” he said after a moment, “there are greater powers. You say you’re not a religious man, but I tell you, the source of these powers dwells in each of us. You don’t need religion. You don’t need me. Your faith that your wife can be healed though we are thousands of miles apart is power enough. Go home to your wife. She is well and she is waiting for you.”
Two months later
Ostensibly the purpose of the meeting was to share dinner and evening prayer. But Ambassador Jeremiah Ngordon, the primary from East Africa, had another reason for inviting to his home his Muslim colleague, the new primary from the Middle East, Ambassador Abduhl Rashid of Yemen. He wanted to know how Rashid intended to vote on the Consolidated Aid Package (CAP) that would be presented to the Security Council the next day. Rashid was the newest primary member of the Council, having taken that position when Ambassador Fahd retired a month earlier for health reasons. Ngordon thought he could count on him, but Rashid had never definitively declared his support.
The CAP was a major funding project to provide extended assistance to the regions hardest hit by the effects of the asteroids and locusts as well as to areas impacted by the Ch
ina-India-Pakistan War. Drafted by a committee of three primary and six alternate members and chaired by Christopher Goodman, its intent was to combine and expand two previous aid packages and to modify the size of contributions from each region based on their needs and ability to contribute. With the ash-filled skies only now beginning to clear, and with swarms of locusts making farming nearly impossible, there was sharp dissent among the nations and regions that had originally agreed to contribute to the aid packages. As long as the problems had been localized, the argument could be made that those regions that were least affected should help the regions that were most affected. Now that the problems were worldwide, the individual regions wanted to keep their money, their labor, and their food at home. Added to the difficulty of getting the package adopted, was the necessity of forging an agreement among the individual nations in each region as to exactly what each would contribute. This had required particular diplomatic skill when working out a compromise agreement among the nations of Europe, which together with the Middle East, would provide the greatest portion of aid for the other regions.
The meal that Ambassadors Ngordon and Rashid shared included traditional Middle Eastern fare: roast lamb, rice, chicken, bread, feta cheese, doukh (a watered-down yogurt), and Coca-Cola. After sufficient polite conversation, Ambassador Ngordon broached the subject. “Have you reached a decision on how you will vote on the Consolidated Aid Package tomorrow?” he asked.
“I have decided to vote for the package,” Rashid answered. Ngordon smiled and nodded his satisfaction with Rashid’s decision. “I must add, however,” Rashid continued, “that opinion is split nearly evenly among the nations I represent. And I confess, I have my own reservations.” Ngordon’s expression prodded Rashid to explain. “I understand the reasons for supporting CAP,” Rashid said. “Ambassador Goodman has gone to great lengths over the past few weeks to point out how the package will benefit the Middle East in the long run. And it’s not that I am opposed to the package — far from it. But does it not seem odd to you that Ambassador Goodman is so eager to get this package adopted? After all, his region will bear much of the burden of funding the measure. How curious that he should be so involved in urging its passage.” Rashid took another drink of Coke and then added, “I have never seen a man so intent upon giving away his region’s wealth.”
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