The Sixth Station(33)

12





“What?” was all I could croak out.

“I said, I was charged with killing Jesus and His kin. By order of the director of the CIA, with, I always assumed, the tacit knowledge of the president. Of course, I had no direct knowledge of that.”

“Ahh, just to be clear here, Miss Wright-Lewis? You’re telling me that you think that Jesus walked the earth thirty-three years ago?”

“No. Not walked. He was just an infant when He—or some male infant that was supposed to be Him—was slated to be eliminated,” she said, as though she had been speaking of any of the hundreds of average orders issued at the agency on any single day.

10:34 A.M., install bugs in the Soviet embassy; 11:15, kill Baby Jesus; 3:15 P.M., arrest international gunrunner …

Ignoring my upraised eyebrows, she continued, her voice getting more vehement, as though letting go of this loopy secret was somehow a relief.

“Do you remember that there had been a blackout thirty-three years ago that affected parts of Europe and the Mideast? Oh, probably not. You were just a baby yourself.”

“I was nine, actually, but no, I didn’t know about it.”

“Well, that was the day we got confirmation.…” She poured herself another large one. “I assume you’re driving, so I won’t offer you any,” she said. And didn’t.

“Confirmation … about…?”

She knocked the Scotch back straight, sat down, and continued. “… That a baby had been born. Not a human baby—no, in fact, it was the first human clone. Illegal, of course.”

“A clone,” I said, suddenly fascinated. “I’ve heard there have been experiments but none had actually been successful.”

“Well, it did happen. In Turkey. And this baby? It was supposedly born from the blood of Jesus Christ.”

I stopped writing and just looked at her. Oh, crap. What a bunch of crap.

She read my mind, or probably my smirk.

“I just, I’m—”

“I know what you are. Frankly, I never trusted the press, never will.…”

“You aren’t the first person who’s said that to me. I mean about being chosen. And you certainly aren’t the first person who told me she hates the press.”

“And I won’t be the last,” she said calmly. “Look, I don’t know why he, they, whomever, chose you. Maybe they figure you’ll be able to dig out the truth. Maybe they want to use you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, please. These days everyone from terrorists to disgraced politicians plays the media like cheap fiddles—and for the most part even the most desperate fringe bloggers and conspiracy theorists have worldwide access and get attention. Maybe the gods play you, too,” she added, teasing me. Well, I thought she was teasing me at least.

“So it makes sense he or they picked a reporter—one that supposedly has that oxymoron, ‘journalistic integrity.’”

I actually laughed. Our truth.

“I know what you’re thinking about me,” she went on to say. “Let’s just say I took one for the team. After that, they naturally wanted me out of the way. I’d done my job thirty-three years ago, but then they doubted me—thought I might be, well, it doesn’t matter. Yes, I was the one responsible for setting up the kill for this Jesus thing. I mean, cloning the Son of God? The implications seemed horrifying.” More horrifying than infanticide, I wanted to add, but didn’t.

“I’d been tracking a report on the birth of a baby supposedly cloned from the DNA of Jesus, when a blackout hit the Middle East and elsewhere. And it had happened at almost the same moment that a new star became visible. Religious fanatics in Turkey were already saying it signaled the end of the world. Little did they know…” She paused, remembering.

“I was already in Turkey trying to track down the cloning lab—and that’s where the birth occurred. Officials you’ve never heard of—or most people had never heard of—from the Soviet union  , China, most of Europe, Israel, and even an operative from the PLO—all met together, in a secret location in Istanbul. The pope had sent his Vatican agent, Cardinal Riccardo Renzi. We were actually meeting around gas lanterns—not for the intrigue but because that area was blacked out—and somehow they kept this part contained—not even batteries were working.

“The cardinal announced that he believed that the birth of what he called a ‘devil spawn’—the clone of Jesus Himself—had been born.”

She didn’t really say that, did she? “Devil spawn” and “Jesus clone”?