Chapter 76

76
WATERGATE HOTEL, WASHINGTON, D.C.

General Tower was always nervous about what were called 'permanent assignments', and this one seemed to be close enough to qualify. His boss, General Vilnius Veemer, Commandant of the Marine Corps, had told him precious little about just what was expected of him, but he, was after all a Marine General. They didn't give him those two stars on his shoulder with a promise that he would never draw any hard duty.

Walking the few blocks from his boss's office gave him a chance to think tactics. Veemer had already told him all or part of what had happened in the meeting with President Haskill. He had told him that everyone was now convinced that the message of Jesus Robeles was the key to gaining control of the situation in the streets. He knew that at first not all of the Joint Chiefs and the Security Council had been convinced, but now there were new faces. Now everyone was convinced.

With active unrest in forty to fifty percent of the towns and cities in the country, there could be no more pressing mission that to restore order. Tower's first inclination when confronted with the problem was to call out the Marines. Veemer had conceded that this had been his own suggestion to the President and the National Security Council. But force or arms was seldom effective against the force of ideas. Tower had witnessed that kind of losing battle in every corner of the world from Vietnam to Bosnia and now Algeria and Libya.

President Haskill and the NSC wanted to handle this thing on what was basically a public relations basis. That seemed risky. The condition of the country warranted stronger action. As far as General Tower was concerned, if a few of these rioters got shot while they were out raising hell, then maybe some of the others would calm down a little.

Now, scarcely two and half hours before the first of these press conferences, the biggest question was simply what He would say. At least, it had finally become time to take action. Jesus Robele's uncertain agreement to appear in a press conference at all might mark the beginning of the end of all this trouble. Yesterday General Tower had finally been given a full information packet from the State Department which included two or three pounds of newspaper clippings. The newspaper clippings had shed far more light on what was happening than the State Department profile. Jesus Robeles didn't have a State Department profile for Christ's sake! State's little spooks may as well have been reporting on a squirrel.

He had seen those profiles before. Take the case of some little rabble rouser from the jungles of Africa. This guy gets an army together and a sponsor to buy him rifles and bullets. He takes over the government of some little country no one has ever heard of and makes overtures for diplomatic recognition. His State Department profile tells everything. Where he was born. Who his friends are. Where he's traveled. It talks about his politics and his philosophy. It even takes a guess at his ambitions.

The information packet on Jesus Robeles contained essentially no data on the Man. It contained one blurry photograph of Him getting off a ship in Rio. The rest was full of scientific explanations about human cloning, all the facts that supported the claim that He was, in fact, a clone of Jesus Christ. If the cloning part wasn't rough enough, it also verified that the Man apparently had supernatural powers, just like His DNA donor, the body found in the Tomb. The profile said that He considered Himself to be Jesus Reincarnate, all of which would have been hard to believe if not for the credentials of the scientists who agreed with Him. The stuff was worse than useless. It was mostly volatile misinformation waiting to cause trouble. As far as State was concerned, Jesus Robeles had indeed restored life to a dead helicopter pilot, an unquestionably dead helicopter pilot, and He had done in clear view of almost fifty people.

One thing was clear enough. That was the willingness of both sides of the Divinity argument to enter into a seemingly spontaneous state of war with each other. If the bone of contention had been some sort of political or economic issue, this damned thing would have been a civil war. Especially if it involved the government.

But Robert Haskill was going to extraordinary lengths to keep his administration clear of the fracas. That was part of the problem. The people in the streets might have possibly made sense out of themselves if he had come out on one side or the other. Haskill's ambition, coupled with his cowardice, was spilling blood across the country he was sworn to protect.

The Watergate lay directly ahead. As usual the place was surrounded by people with signs. His Marines would not allow any violence around the hotel, and as evidence of their resolve six paddy wagons were parallel parked by the service entrance. They filled each one before taking the next load of nut cases to Andrews.

The Secret Service agent opened the door for him. Tower hoped this meeting might be less perplexing than his previous ones. Jesus Robeles could very comfortably -- and innocently -- switch His line of reasoning from a curious and excited country Boy in the big city for the first time to that of perhaps the most powerful Person in the world. He had seen this during the brief times he had been with Him, but he had never gotten accustomed to it. In the instances of the latter case he had felt the extremely disquieting sensation that he was, in fact, sitting in church, only during these times, sitting in church seemed very real. While he was in the presence of Jesus Robeles, there was a gnawing chorus of voices that said nothing was real save this moment.

"Good morning, Sir. Are You ready to meet the press?" General Tower greeted Him with an upbeat tone.

"Good morning, General Tower. You're a little early, I think. But that is very good! Perhaps you would like to join us for breakfast. At least have a cup of coffee." Jesus was in high spirits Himself. Even Juan seemed to be excited.

"GOOD MORNING! GOOD MORNING, GENERAL TOWER!" came a raucous voice from across the room, catching the soldier completely by surprise. "I'M BEATRICE! I LIVE HERE!" the bird continued.

"You taught the parrot to speak over night?" Tower asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes. Beatrice was just full of things she wanted to say. She's a very happy parrot now that We've got her wings fixed!" Jesus nonchalantly mentioned as he looked for the telephone. The apartment was getting pretty cluttered. The bird flew across the room to land on a side table where she proceeded to dislodge several newspapers revealing the portable phone.

"Oh good. Thank you, Beatrice!" Jesus spoke as if to a person. He took the phone and ordered breakfast from room service. The Secret Service waiter appeared within a minute with a pot of coffee, bowls, milk and silver. In the center of the tray was an unopened box of 'Sugar Charged Holy O's'. Tower accepted a cup of coffee, but declined to comment on the irony of the dry cereal.

"I thought I might speak with You about the press conference, Sir. That's why I wanted to show up a little early." General Tower apologized. "I'm sorry to have caught You before You had time to dress." Jesus and Juan had gotten only as far as their inevitable fatigue pants. Their shirts were still wrapped in plastic. Since they wouldn't wear anything else, the Secret Service had taken to laundering their meagre wardrobe each night.

"Oh that's quite alright, General. I assume that you have often been around men dressed as We are in your job as a General." Jesus reassured Tower. "You must have had something on your mind to have come so early."

"Yes, I wanted to go over a few things You can expect in the press conference -- just so You will be prepared." The General began, "First of all, the most important idea of a press conference is to show that You are hiding nothing, that You are willing to answer any question the reporters might ask. There aren't any particular rules. You can answer or not, but if You decline too many questions the people will start thinking You are hiding something again."

"An exception to this is that You usually don't answer questions that are too private. These are seasoned reporters, though. They will probably not ask anything like that."

"What if I don't know the answer?" Jesus asked.

"My advice is to simply say so. The whole nation is waiting to hear what You have to say. They are going to pay close attention to You. Don't say anything that can come back at You. 'No' is a lot better answer than saying something You don't mean." Tower replied.

"The press conference will last thirty-five minutes. You can assume that some of the reporters will be from either side of the fence. Reporters are usually polite. I think this bunch will be -- they are all afraid of You."

"That means that some will only hear the very worst in My answers. The others will expect more than I can give." Jesus commented thoughtfully.

"We are going to be alone in a small room in the State Department. I will be there with You, along with two Marines and twelve reporters, but the idea is that You will do the talking." Tower seemed to finish with this. "That about sums it up, Sir."

"Juan and Beatrice will be there?" Jesus asked.

"Of course. Of course. Just as we agreed." Tower reassured Him.

"You know that I can only answer with what I think is true, General." Jesus stated the obvious. "You realize that I also have My own Higher Authority."

"Of course, Sir. I understand that, at least, I think I understand that, We all work for a higher authority." The General wanted to build a little empathy with the strange, intense young Man before him, but after his last comment he felt, frankly, stupid. Recovering himself, the General proceeded on the track he had originally set for the meeting. "I have been given my task by people in the highest positions in the country, including my superior officer, the Commandant of the Marine Corps General Veemer and the Commander in Chief of all armed forces, President Haskill. Other powerful men in the United States military, the Joint Chiefs and the National Security Council have all agreed that this is the best alternative left after what we encountered in the video taping."

"That is a very impressive array of people to be involved with these details. Tell me, General, were you present when they discussed this plan?" Jesus' eyes were black, bottomless pits revealing nothing of His thoughts. They had a supernatural quality to them that seemed to drill through the General as if he were a puff of smoke.

"I was indeed, Sir, although I must tell You that in that crowd I was listening instead of talking. You may not have ever had the sensation that everyone around You was Your superior." The General forged on ahead. "I can say that every voice in the room spoke of concern for Your safety. The United States Government, no matter how inept it may seem, does have excellent sources of information from even the most unlikely quarters. You need a company of armed Marines around You, along with the Secret Service and God only knows who else among the folks standing around like they belonged here."

Taking note of Tower's expletive, Jesus answers in a level voice. "I, too, would assume that our Creator knows who is working for whom here in the hotel."

"Please excuse me for saying that, Sir. It is my habit. I didn't mean anything by it." General Tower was embarrassed by his slip. He had pledged himself never to swear while in the presence of his Guest.

"Don't worry about it, too much. Those two things of your shoulders are the stars of a general, not the wings of an angel. Perhaps progress on your personal path is best served as you consider the worst you've done against yourself or the world, not some petty slight of etiquette here with Me. In fact I don't even consider it a matter of etiquette, much less a slight. Please be at ease, General. I am happy to meet anyone, and that includes you. I know you have a good heart but a very difficult job. I anticipate that we will become quite comfortable with each other over time." Jesus spoke frankly, but guardedly. The old war horse would have to be approached gradually. Tower was suspicious and conservative. Jesus wondered if those qualities led him to be a general or if being a general had led him to have those qualities.

"To the matter of the press conference, my orders are to assist You in Your plans, whatever they may be. The same group of brass hats we were talking about a moment ago could only speculate about just what You would be doing for Your, ah, ministry here in the U.S. I am certainly not insisting that You tell me what Your program will be, but the more of it You feel comfortable sharing with me, the more effective I can be in expediting it."

The General paused, then continued. "It is important for You to understand the level of threat which presently exists. The reporters at Your conference may very well ask You about threats against Your person. You are not informed of each individual instance, but You have been receiving an average of two hundred death threats per day. Every one of them is referred to Your switchboard downstairs in the operations room. Every one of them is investigated."

"I have been aware that security was a problem, but two hundred a day? Do any of the callers say why they wish Me dead?" Jesus asked, curious at the onslaught of ill will.

"What we've been finding is a wide variety of things. The first group is certain that You are Who You say You are. Most of them believe that the Second Coming is a prelude to the end of world. They think that if You are gone, that final day of destruction will be postponed. Remember, according to the polls over seventy per cent of the population believes there is some connection between Your arrival and the imminent end of the world. The second group is certain that You are not Who You say You are. They are certain that You are one of many various forms of Biblical demons, sent by Satan himself to deceive the righteous and somehow cause them to make mistakes which will result in their eternal damnation. The polls show this frame of mind in about half of the population, most of whom would also be included in the percentage I mentioned before.

"The third group is a catch-all for every kind of weirdo. Some of them believe they are Satan or demons. Some of them believe they are angels, executing the wrath of God as it was communicated only to them. Some of them believe You are an alien from another planet, I don't know, some of them probably believe they are aliens from another planet." The General sighed. "I promise You that we'll handle them all."

"What do you mean 'handle them all'?" Jesus asked. This type of question made Tower nervous.

"I mean we get their phone numbers, then we get their addresses, then we talk to their neighbors, then we talk to them. If they're still nuts we watch 'em. Military intelligence can bother hell out of someone, believe me." The General continued his explanation. "If the threat cannot be contained by all that, then we do whatever is necessary to contain it. We are not violating any one's Constitutional rights in Your behalf. Sometimes we come close, but we know we have to face the judge just like everyone else."

"America is an amazing place. It seems like a garden filled with every kind of flower. General, I wish you could see the difference between this wonderful country and the place where I spent My first lifetime." Jesus commented with a distant tone to His voice. "All these groups weighing in with an opinion about Me, what do you think of Me, General? Space alien?"

"You may well know that local law enforcement and even the military in some cases has succumbed to partisanship when faced with the task of restoring order between Your supporters and detractors. This has been one of the most disturbing aspects of the civil unrest. Americans have never seen the National Guard, for instance, arrive on a scene to restore order only to divide among themselves and join the violence." Tower was trying to remember that he was speaking to a person Who was generally unaccustomed to life in the United States.

"You are referring to the Baltimore incident? Juan and I actually read about it in a paper from Rio." Jesus asked pointedly.

"Yes, Sir. Baltimore was a very low point for the reputation of the U.S. armed forces. The introduction of well armed soldiers into the ranks of the opposing sides of the conflict caused many deaths and injuries. This may come up in the press conference, too. Worst of all, it shook the confidence in which the people hold the military. After Baltimore the man in the street isn't certain that he can welcome law enforcement or military units as true impartial peace keepers." General Tower eased himself into one of the overstuffed chairs at the dining room table. "I am proud to say that Marine units, whenever they have been called so far, have performed their duties regardless of what sympathies individual men may have held."

"That, I suppose, is why I am guarded by a company of Marines and why I have a Marine General for an official liaison. I respect the devotion these men around Me, that is downstairs, hold to their duties. I understand why such young men would be a source of personal pride for you. In fact, General, I sense an almost fatherly attachment between you and your men, although I understand that such a relationship is strictly not military." Jesus mused. He hesitated, then continued. "Back to the question I put to you. What do you think I am?"

"So long as I wear this uniform, I am paid to have no opinion whatever. In fact, I was chosen from a good number of other possibilities for this job because everyone concerned had a strong confidence in my continued lack of opinion in the matter. As an individual, I am subject to the impressions I receive while I am around You, but as a military officer, I guarantee that I will not contaminate either my military bearing or my point of view in any way which could influence my actions. I am doing my job and will continue to do so." Tower pulled this off without becoming defensive. He had expected this question for some time. He was relieved that it was over and that he had been ready.

"I find that point of view and that dedication to duty to be very reassuring. Although I was not privy to the high level meetings where these decisions were made, I would like to voluntarily clarify something for you, General. Your own understanding of the events of that day in April, AD 30 should suggest to you that I can be hurt or killed. Nothing on that day should be considered symbolic or in some way optional. They killed me. Likewise, one of these mobs roaming around can also kill Me. I want you to know that your efforts to keep Me secure are appreciated and necessary. I am determined to accomplish what I came to do. It is too important to be precluded by a bomb or a lucky shot." Jesus spoke of all this in a very matter-of-fact manner.

The General was interested but uneasy. "Every kind of security measure has been put in place to protect You, nothing has been spared. And, we hope, nothing has been overlooked. The troops You see around the hotel can be multiplied ten times or more if need be in a matter of minutes. It has always been the policy of the U.S. military to provide protection in layers. The Secret Service is Your innermost layer. You can have confidence in them, too. They are tough and dedicated. They are here from the Treasury Department at the order of President Haskill, and they're quite independent of the Marines downstairs. If for some chance a Marine should try something, go to the Secret Service and vice versa. That is not likely, but if it should happen, I want You to know what to do."

"I accept your appraisal of the threat from the street, General. I only wish I had a better idea of what awaits Me in this press conference. I hope you realize that I have lived all My life in much simpler surroundings. The willingness of the administration to be so generous almost makes Me suspect that something is expected in return. What can President Haskill possibly want from Me? I hardly expect that the most powerful man in the world would want or need a miracle." Jesus rose stretching himself as any young man might do. Beatrice flew to His shoulder. "PAY BACK TIME! PAY BACK TIME!"

Both Jesus and General Tower chuckled. General Tower had an uneasy feeling listening to Jesus speak. The ever present Portuguese was still quite audible. It had the distinct sound of any one's voice when directed away from the listener. Yet the English version of Jesus' speech was in no way different than it would have been had they been seated facing each other a few feet distant. He wondered what effect this would have on the reporters. There would be no cameras or tape recorders in the session for security reasons. Both would be useless anyway.

"I want to be very certain that You realize the importance of this conference, Sir. In a certain sense it might be considered to be something that is, in Your Own words, expected of You. I absolutely refuse to present it as a demand or, in fact, even a request that is conditional on anything else whatsoever. Rather, I would prefer to express it as an explanation of the seriousness of President Haskill's concern about the civil unrest in the country." General Tower, in good military fashion, although hardly mincing words, came directly to the point.

"If President Haskill wants Me to stop that, we really are back to his needing a miracle. I have explained My mortality to you frankly. Now perhaps I should explain miracle making to you just as frankly." Jesus wanted to encourage the General toward frankness. It was hard enough to have much trust in all these soldiers and bureaucrats, He didn't want to set a precedent of a lack of openness. "You have you orders and I have Mine. My orders might be a little difficult to communicate to you, but let Me clarify this one part."

Jesus ambled back to the table with a giant doughnut which had been left over from breakfast. "I had My first doughnut about a month ago. I would say that they're heavenly, but I know I must watch My words. Back to this miracle business. If I were a general, such as you are, miracles would originate in the Pentagon, better say with the Commander in Chief. When I encounter, and especially when I cause a certain thing which I feel is wrong, a miracle can pass through Me as a conduit to make that thing right again. I am very determined to cause no harm. The 'wrongness' of a thing has to do with a reaction in My Conscience. When I experience remorse or other strong emotional feeling about such a development that I wish to make it right again, I gain the potential of being a pathway for a miracle originating elsewhere to reach that person or thing. The people in the streets began doing what they are doing long before I was here, long before I ever knew I would be here. Quite independently of what I may wish in the matter, I have no essential emotion about them. Hence, I have no particular miraculous ability to influence them. It is My hope that your idea is correct. Perhaps reading about My press Conference may serve to calm them a little."

"I have no wish to be ascendant with you, General, but the key issue here is actually My Conscience. It is different from yours only in the aspect of its development. It is more developed than yours. It was perhaps the most stunning thing that was changed in Me at the moment of My Awareness of Myself on the island. It came in the 'breeze of realization' that filled Me with the same kinds of thoughts and feelings as were in the ancient Jesus. It may interest you to know that the development of conscience is possible for a great many common people in this country or the world. That happy possibility is among the goals of My visit here." Jesus looked longingly at the empty doughnut platter, then back at the General.

"I don't think President Haskill is exactly expecting a miracle to stop this violence. I think he is much more just expecting Your help in a sort of secular, public relations sort of way." The General was beginning to feel alarmingly comfortable.

"You can understand that I have no particular sense of responsibility for these developments, hence I have no corresponding sensations from My Conscience. As I said a moment ago a miracle is not really possible. I hope you can understand this, and I really hope you understand that it is not necessarily because I refuse to do it or because I enjoy all the misery these people are making for each other." Jesus fell silent.

"If there's not to be a miracle, then that's that. The next best thing will be these press conferences where You can perhaps answer questions more than preach. The more that people are able to read what You say, the more comfortable they might become with Who You are. President Haskill thinks that once people are more used to You, everything will be easier for everyone. Even Your own people will be able to pay attention better after they calm down." The General relaxed a little as he leaned back in his chair. He had delivered the pitch.

"What do you mean by 'My people', General?" Jesus asked. "The last time that phrase was used successfully was by Moses in Egypt. He told the Pharaoh to 'Let my people go.' Everybody, including you, General, is included in 'My people.' I don't think even President Haskill has the power to grant them the freedom I plan to tell them about. When the time comes for Me to deliver my message from 'The Commander in Chief" I'll handle the details Myself, but thank you for the offer."

"I have direct orders not to pry into Your plans any further than You may wish to share them with me. It is my personal inclination to avoid this at any cost. There are enough folks trying to guess what You will do next. You don't need me meddling in what I feel is certainly a campaign with its details already well in hand." Tower retreated a little.

"I think you know that I have a very clear idea of My mission in the world, and that I have no particular authority to change my responsibilities." Jesus explained. "But I promise you that I will do My best with the reporters. I'll try to bear in mind all of what you've said."

"Well, the car will be ready in ten minutes. I'll ride over with You and Juan." the General rose to leave.

"It will be Juan and Beatrice and Me. Yes?" asked Jesus.

Tower turned around. "Yes, of course. Beatrice."

Standing before him was a shirtless, barefoot, muscular young man with hair to His waist and a parrot on his shoulder. Further back in the room was another more or less identical shirtless, barefoot, muscular young man shaking the last crumbs from a nearly empty box of Sugar Charged Holy O's into his mouth, also with hair to his waist. He shook his head. The Washington press corps were going to have a fast snack on the way to their word processors.

Jesus, as if reading his mind, said only, "Keep the faith, General. We'll meet you at the car."