Christopher Golde

Date:        12th January 1996
Location:   Hong Kong

 

            As they walked, the young virile man in Father Aldo Dominique watched Julie Pierce as she weaved her way through the crowd. Her short loose dress spiraled around her thighs, as her long shapely legs, guided skilfully her stiletto-heeled shoes. Long black hair, floated freely to the base of her spine, as her hips swayed seductively to some naturally built in erotic rhythm.

            ‘She was indeed a very exotic woman,’ he thought, ‘just as well the Brotherhood code does not include abstinence, after all, I’m still a young man, I have hormones, who could blame me for being aroused.’

            Julie turned and motioned for him to follow.

            “It’s not far now,” she said, loud enough for him to hear over the street noise, “and all downhill, we just have to catch one of the ferries at that terminal down there.”

            As they rounded the corner, he could see a boat landing, where two small ferries sat waiting for travelers. Out across the water, not too distant, was what appeared to be a huge floating Buddhist temple.

            Julie skipped aboard a small ferry; the sign above indicating its imminent departure to the restaurant ‘Jumbo’. Aldo followed as quickly as he could; slowed down by the large, old, brown carry case he had refused to leave behind at the motel.

            As the ferry crossed the water between the island of Hong Kong and the ‘Jumbo’ floating restaurant, the priest marveled at the two giant golden lions that stood either side of the entrance to the restaurant, their images reflected mirror perfect on the glassy surface of the harbor. The closer they came to the immense bulk of the red and gold giant, the more small sampans would skate across their bow, and their wakes would disrupt the perfection of the image.

            Soon, they pulled alongside a permanent gantry, and as they alighted from the ferry, Julie remarked with satisfaction

            ”Here we are, this is my most favorite restaurant in all Hong Kong, if not only because of its beauty and extravagance. Have you been here before,” she asked enthusiastically?

            With a smile and a nod, he indicated that he had not.

            “Oh good, “she said, as they walked up the somewhat unstable gantry.

            “I have heard of this restaurant but never had the opportunity to visit here,” he said, once they came to the entrance. He motioned for her to go before him.

            They passed between the two giant gold lions and entered through two very large gold doors, where they were met by two elegantly dressed young ladies in modernized versions of traditional Chinese costume. After they had been greeted, one of the ladies indicated for them to follow, and immediately disappeared up a flight of stairs. Once they reached the top of the third level, they came panting to a halt, only to just see her disappear around a corner and through another large door. They immediately followed, and on entering the room were swept into a sea of feasting patrons. An army of waiters raced between tables each laden with glasses and plates full to the brim with exotic crustaceans and sizzling meats. The noise of so many people eating and talking created a constant cacophony of uninterpretable noise that smothered the room with a palpable but invisible, audible ether.

            Following the young waitress, they threaded their way through the dining chaos and finally, passed through another doorway into the relative tranquillity of a private room. To his pleasant surprise, this room hosted a single lavishly ornate table setting and a wonderful view of the harbor.

            “You obviously have some influence here,” he said, relieved to sit at last.

            “I’m here a lot, they know I am a journalist, and I do the occasional favor for them, it all helps.”

            She sat down and brushed the hair back over her shoulder in one sweeping movement that took his breath away with its sheer elegance. The Chinese hostess picked up excess table pieces and asked if they would like some drinks. Julie looked at the priest. He ordered ice tea and Julie ordered the same.

            “Beautiful isn’t it,” she motioned in the direction of the view as the hostess departed.

            “Indeed it is Miss Pierce.”

            “Please, from now on call me Julie, Miss Pierce is far too formal.”

            “Okay then, Julie, I would be most honored.”

            ‘Honoured,’ she thought, ‘what a quaint term, old fashioned I guess,’ she considered, ‘it must be his European upbringing I like that, oops, mustn’t think like that,’ she snapped at herself, ‘get back to work.’

            “So, you’re going after this mysterious man, who you think could destroy the world, all on your own. Isn’t that just a little dangerous?”

            Because he had seemed so serious telling her who this person was back at the hotel, she was consciously trying to keep her questioning as serious as possible.

            “I guess it’s only dangerous if I am right, and if he knows that I am aware of his intentions.”

            “And the numbers, the prophecies, they’re true, they will tell you what is going to happen, is that what you were saying?”

            “Well sought of Miss Pierce, I mean Julie, it’s not that simple, and yet it is.”

            “But that’s what you believe,” she pressed him, sounding more like a reporter with every question?

            She thought he seemed a bit flustered all of sudden.

            “Well, it is not just what I believe, or what Genesis believes. Everything I have been talking to you about; time relativity, precognitive dreaming, primitive inheritances, superstitions, and even our spiritually motivated astrological connections and their relationship to numerical values, they are not just my fantasies; they are all subjects of valid scientific research. Many of our world’s greatest minds have written about them in exhausting detail and consider them real possibilities. In some cases, certain elements of what you might find unbelievable, have even been proven as fact.”

            He reached into the old brown carry case he had placed beneath the table and extracted several books placing them down on the table one at a time as he read their titles. Each book looked well worn, and well read.

            “Albert Einstein, ‘Time Space and their Relativity’s’, Professor Jack Sarfartti, ‘Telepathy and Mind Travel’, Jung, ‘Primitive connectives and Asian philosophies’, ‘Freud, ‘Power of superstitions and their inheritance’ and Sir Fred Hoyle, ‘Space, time numerical relativity’, all great men, all respected books, and all agreeing with everything I am saying.”

            “I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on what you said Father, I was just…”

            “No! No! It’s okay,” Father Dominique cut in, “I very much enjoy this opportunity to talk with you about these things. I want you to take me to task. Too much is already accepted in our world without question or reason, sometimes in the guise of religious faith and sometimes just as an inherited acceptance of myth as truth. As my brotherhood has asked questions and demanded answers, so should you!”

            Julie smiled and relaxed, perplexed still, but a little more reassured by the sincere and honest conviction of this young handsome priest.

            “So what do you intend to do when you meet him, ask him if he has good intentions?”

            He looked at her now, wondering if she was just making fun of him.

            “Julie,” the young priest continued, “we have analyzed predictions, premonitions, and mythology from all walks of human history and have found a very distinct trail, which brings me here now, to this side of the world.”

            A waiter came into the room and delivered the drinks to the table, leaving again as swiftly as he had come. Julie took a long sip from her glass, savoring its refreshment. Father Dominique paused then continued.

            “Quite simply, we believe that it is already with us, disguised as a person who will have an enormous effect on our world’s destiny and we believe we know who it is.”

            “Is it the Messiah,” Julie interrupted impertinently?

            “Could be, we know that it is not uncommon for some people to be born with extreme spiritual relevance, and in many cases, they have had an enormous effect on the global community. Never before have we been able to predetermine such a person’s existence, and now we are faced with the opportunity to take advantage of what we think we know.”

            “So you think you can predetermine, and then control?”

            Her question was noticeably loaded. “That sounds like you intend to manipulate such power to your advantage,” she continued.

            “Well not entirely,” the priest answered, not taking her bait, “just as a farmer might sow his seeds, and many would grow true, many will also wither and perish if they miss falling into fertile ground, we just want to, if we can, guide them into fertile ground.”

            “Sounds more like a genetically modified crop to me,” she added, with a note of sarcasm.

            “In nature, most creatures sow many eggs,” the priest continued unperturbed by her comments, “with the hope that some, or at least one, will survive. This we believe, is also true of the spiritual evolution of man, it is likely that many, as you might call them, Messiahs, are cast to the field, in the hope that one will survive and make some difference to the development of the human race. Quite often, as in the case of Christ, or Buddha, or Mohammed, or Confucius, or Moses, their impact on humanity was spectacular, others we believe, had less of a role to play, but never the less, did make a difference, while others withered and hence were never heard of.”

            The priest paused and took a sip of his drink.

            “Now that we are heading for a new millennia, it is our belief, that if we take into consideration planetary and star configurations, as well as the mountains of prophecy, statistics, and numerical conjunctiveness we have accumulated, there has never been a better time in the last two thousand years than now, to predict the next great influence to our existence.”

            He paused as if uncertain.

            “And…” Julie prompted.

            “Unfortunately, there is no guarantee that the seed will be good once sown.”

            “You mean he could be…” she searched for a word, a word to aptly fit, but not to overdramatize it, “like … Satan?”

            ‘There, she had finally said it, even though it felt foolish,’ she thought, ‘but he was a priest, that’s probably what he believes.’

            “He could be from the dark side, Satan… the Devil…. the Beast, who knows, all I do know, is that history has had some very dark prophets as well, and they have changed the shape of our world in the most bloody ways…Hitler, Khan, Stalin, they were misfits, warlords, power hungry and enormously influential with the weak, the greedy, and the desperate.”

            The priest bent forward and almost whispered to her.

            “Julie, if you had the chance would you stop any of these monsters ever existing?”

            Julie contemplated the question, she knew that she was trapped, he was right, if they could be stopped, most people would agree with stopping them; but this was controlling destiny.

            ‘How could it be right?’ she wondered.

            She continued to think about it during dinner. They talked long about everything else and laughed a great deal about nothing, but the same question kept nagging her.

            ‘Could the master be any better than the servant, and in this case, who was the master, and who was the servant?’

            Over dinner, the conversation turned to lighter subjects and personal details. The chemistry between them was good and they were both enjoying each other’s company. While finishing their drinks, Julie decided to pick up on the previous conversation again. She was developing a genuine interest in the priest and decided it couldn’t hurt to become more involved in this project.

            “So who is this person?”

            “Pardon me?” he asked at first looking puzzled by her question

            “Oh! You mean it? Or I should say them!” he said, recovering from the sudden change of topic.

            “You mean there is more than one?”

            She was a bit surprised by his response, as her question had only been intended as a little bit of a tickler to gauge his reaction.

            “We believe so, but we are not absolutely sure yet, and as for who the other one is, I believe he is truly evil. I just hope he does not have the power of the one we are sure of.”

            “So it is a he!”

            “They are both he’s Julie but I prefer to call them ‘it’ as they are hardly human I believe,” he added.

            “Can you tell me who they are then?”

            “I can tell you that one goes by the name of Jason King but having not met him yet and knowing so little about him, I cannot tell you good or bad, but I would definitely say dangerous.”

            “I have not heard of him before,” said Julie, as she racked her brain for the name, “and the other?”

            “Not prepared to say yet,” said the priest, with what she noticed was a deeply reflective look on his face.

            As a journalist, she was trained to read faces and this face was different somehow to a worried look.  

            As she thought about the name Jason King she could hardly believe it, but she really wanted to get involved but she wasn’t so sure why. She had a feeling she was going to find out.

            “How do you know ‘it’ is this Jason King?”

            “It was as if we were meant to know actually,” he said, almost absently, “there was a document the Vatican had in its care for close to a century until it mysteriously disappeared just before World War 2 started. The Vatican was worried that the Nazis had somehow got possession of it because it was well known they knew of it and wanted it. It was a very old text passed down from sometime about the beginning of the first millennia. No-one was actually sure of the origin but it could not be deciphered until a brilliant young scientist by the name of Isaac Newton created a key that could make sense of it. Both the key and the manuscript disappeared before anyone could translate and record it properly but there were three pieces of text that could be clearly read and it was a name; ‘Jason King’.”

            “Wow,” said Julie, “that is one hell of a story.” She really was impressed and it sounded so true. “But how would you know it was now when it was over a thousand years old?”

            “That was the other bit of text. The number ‘1966’, Wasn’t too hard to look up the year 1966 in every country and find that a Jason King was born in Australia that year.”

            “Australia,” she said incredulously, “why on earth Australia?”

            He did not answer and the conversation sort or disappeared from then on and it was not without her trying to get him to talk more about it. It was as if he was afraid to say anymore, or he had said what he needed to and his mission was accomplished. She guessed the latter as she could not imagine this guy being scared of anything.

            As they traveled back across the harbor in the ferry, she stared at the young priest standing by her side, so resolute, so mysterious.

            ‘Who was he? What was he? Where had he come from?’ she wondered.

            She knew none of these things and yet she felt calm with him, a peacefulness; it felt right and she had no idea why. It was then, that she made up her mind to get involved. She had to know.

            ‘But what it was she had to know, she just wasn’t sure.’


 

“When the Lamb opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven.”

        John: Revelation 8.1

      Chapter eighteen
          The Reporter