Mission (24 page)

She blew on her coffee, took a trial sip, then shrugged.

‘Oh, come on,' I said. ‘You were the one that got us into it.'

She stirred in another spoonful of sugar. ‘You really think so?'

‘Listen,' I said. ‘You recognised him, didn't you? It was you who got me down to the morgue. And when the penny didn't drop, you spelt it out for me. You knew. You were a hundred per cent sure
before
he disappeared.'

Miriam shook her head. ‘Not a hundred per cent sure. I can't explain how it happened. It wasn't a conscious mental process of deduction. I just happened to get a look at him when the paramedics brought him into Emergency. I was on the point of leaving to get cleaned up for our date. That's when I saw the thorns sticking into his scalp. And, as I pulled the first one out, I had this kind of – I don't quite know how to describe it. I felt I'd been punched in the heart, but the blow was internal. There was no pain. Just a violent muscular spasm. And at the same time, I had this sudden flash of recognition. But at first, I was too embarrassed to mention it.' She shrugged, and picked up her cup. ‘The rest you know.'

‘Miriam,' I said. ‘I know what happened, and what he said, and what I told you. And I know that you put your job on the line to get us off the hook with Lieutenant Russell. But I still don't know why a nice Jewish girl like you would want to get involved with someone who claims to be Jesus Christ.'

She lowered her cup. ‘I don't remembering him ever claiming that.'

‘He's certainly never denied it,' I said. ‘And don't get smart.
I'm
the lawyer round here. Are you saying he isn't?'

She rolled her bottom lip. ‘Maybe he is, maybe he isn't. I seem to remember you saying that religion was something
we
invented. You also said that his teaching cuts right across our separate faiths and from what I've seen and heard myself, he's clearly more than the carpenter who became the fisher of men. He may be Jehovah's messenger. He may even be Vishnu, Buddha, Jesus and Muhammad rolled into one. I don't think it really matters which badge he's wearing. It does to you, because your approach to this event is on a much more intellectual level. What matters to me is that, when I'm with him, I'm aware of being in the presence of an extraordinary power. He radiates an aura of – '

‘Yes, I know,' I said. ‘Linda took a broadside.'

‘It's not a soft, saccharine-type goodness,' continued Miriam. ‘It has an astringent quality. It's more of a – ' She tried to claw the words out of the air. ‘A kind of – firm benevolence. It has a cutting edge. And there's this feeling of – '

I'd already driven this route. ‘Incorruptibility?'

She snapped her fingers. ‘Yes. That's part of it. But what I was going to say was “renewal”, “rebirth”.' She gestured helplessly. ‘I've never experienced anything like this before.'

‘That's understandable,' I said. ‘It's a fairly unique situation.'

Her mouth tightened. ‘But one which you find pretty funny.'

‘Not at all,' I said stoutly. ‘The time I've spent with The Man has shaken me up too. I'm not kidding. He has really put my emotions through the wringer.'

‘I'm glad to hear it,' she replied. ‘Because there are times when I get the impression that you look upon this as nothing more than a philosophical exercise.'

Now it was my turn to get tight-lipped. ‘Thanks a bunch.'

‘You see, with me,' she continued, ‘it's much more of a gut reaction. I just feel a lot better when he's around. You know what I mean?'

‘Of course,' I laughed. ‘Do you think I haven't felt it too?'

‘Ahh, but you're trying to fight it,' she said.

‘No. Not fight it.
Control
it.'

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Lawyers …'

I put down my coffee. ‘Miriam, there's nothing wrong with the way I am, or the way I'm dealing with this thing. We've been dropped in the middle of a minefield. One false step and it's going to blow us away.'

‘Leo,' she said, ‘make up your mind. When you called me last night, you said the future already exists. If we're due to get blown away, that's it.'

I waved her words away. ‘
Nyehh
…that's what
he
says, but he hasn't proved it, and I don't think he can. The theory's been around for a long time but it doesn't make sense. ‘Brax is not going to keep fighting if he already knows he's not going to win. We
have
to be able to make a choice. It's demonstrably obvious we are able to exercise free will. To choose either to do or not to do something. And the course of action we decide on shapes our future and that of others whose lives are affected as a direct consequence of that decision. The future is constantly being modified by the interaction of an infinite number of decisions that are being made every second of every hour of every day.' I paused and fixed on her eyes. ‘It has to be, surely?'

She shrugged. ‘I think that's one of those questions that only become important when you start thinking about it. I've managed to get this far quite happily without having to.'

‘Okay then,' I said. ‘Whether, in the long run, we have a choice or not, I really feel we ought to try and stay together on this.'

‘So do I,' she said. ‘The problem is, we don't look at the world in the same way.'

‘That's what makes it exciting, Doctor.'

I could see she didn't agree. ‘Leo, you spend your day poring over papers, dancing a courtly gavotte with writs, subpoenas and pleas of
nolo contendere.
Where the most violent thing that can happen to one of your fat cat clients is that he gets slapped with an injunction.'

‘Yeah, okay,' I said tiredly. ‘I get the message.'

‘Good,' she replied. ‘Then you know what I'm trying to say. You go to court against Ford or General Motors over a batch of faulty back-axles. I get to fix the faces of drivers who've gone through the windshield. My day is spent patching people. Performing on-the-spot diagnosis of pain and sickness. Trying to hold down the statistics of fatal accidents, while your fee depends on the money you can claw back for the next-of-kin.'

‘Terrific. I hope you get a citation – '

She grabbed my hand before I could pull it away. ‘Leo, I'm not getting at you. I know you're a caring person. It's just that our jobs are very much part of our lives, and because of them, we have different interests, different priorities. I practise medicine because, as long as I can remember, my one consuming passion was to learn how to save
people's lives. I like the immediacy and the variety of the problems we get in Emergency. But that doesn't make me a better person. I just happen to find it more rewarding than doing nose-jobs or prescribing Valium to frustrated suburban housewives.'

‘Sure,' I said. ‘Decisions like that are always easier when you don't need the money.' It was a cheap crack which left me wishing I'd bitten my tongue off.

‘That's true,' she said, without rancour. ‘But I also know that I don't have the kind of stamina required to work in geriatrics, or terminal cancer wards.'

It was breast-beating time. ‘Okay, so now you've made me feel terrible. But what has this got to do with you and The Man?'

‘Everything,' she said. ‘I'm not interested in all that stuff about starships, Time Gates, and ‘Brax's Black Legions. It's irrelevant – like The Man says. I just want some of that healing power to flow into my hands. So I can put it to work.'

I groaned at the prospect of going steady with a miracle-worker. ‘Miriam, for God's sake, I hope you're not really serious about this. I mean, I'm not against a little surreptitious laying on of hands but if you're planning to turn Manhattan into Lourdes USA… woww… that's big stuff! The City Fathers might be pleased but you could find yourself in big trouble with your colleagues at the A.M.A. I think you ought to hold off on that idea until we've had time to think it through.'

‘All right,' she said. ‘But if he offers it to me. I'm not going to say “No”.'

I became a mite irritated. ‘Yeah, okay. Let me know when it happens and I'll cue in the heavenly choir.'

‘Leo,' she said. ‘I'm not kidding.'

I nodded. ‘I know. That's what worries me. Do you have a cigarette?'

She opened a cupboard above the drainer and produced a carton of Camels from behind the All-Bran and the Special K. I caught the tossed pack and opened it while she put the carton back in its hiding place. ‘I thought you'd switched to low tar.'

‘Only in public,' she said. Our cigarettes met over a lighted match. ‘Okay, shoot…'

‘You asked me what my angle was,' I said. ‘What does your female intuition tell you about his?'

She poured us out some more coffee. ‘I'm not sure. But I'll tell you
one thing. His coming here was no accident. Are you trying to tell me God makes mistakes?'

If you remember, it was a point I raised withTheMan at Sleepy Hollow. ‘It's an interesting theological proposition. All I can say is – we're in trouble if he does.' I took another pull and waved the smoke from my eyes. ‘However, at least we agree about one thing. I know nothing about the mechanics of time-travel but I'd say that for him to land here once is a miracle, twice is an unhappy coincidence, and three times means we should cancel our holiday arrangements. The question is – what do we do if he turns up again?'

She shrugged. ‘Why don't you worry about that when it happens?'

‘I'm not
worried,
' I said. ‘I just like to think ahead – get things worked out. Doctors practise preventive medicine, don't they?'

‘They do,' she replied. ‘However the real question is not “What do we do if”, but one I've raised before – do you
want
him to come back?'

I raised my cup to my lips and sniffed the aroma before drinking. Miriam makes good coffee from her own private blend. ‘Let me put it this way,' I began.

‘Cut out the bullshit,' she said. ‘Yes, or No?'

I took another sip. ‘It's not quite as simple as that. There are two sides to this.'

‘Jeezusss,' she groaned. ‘No wonder law suits drag on for ever.'

‘Keep quiet,' I said. ‘You gave me the floor. Let's take the positive side. Yes, I would like to hear from him again. If only to satisfy my curiosity. I'd like to hear the rest of the story because nothing he's told us so far matches what's written in the Book. At least not in any obvious way. I know there's a theory that the four Gospels have both a literal and an occult meaning but it will take more than two quick readings to crack the code, even with the head start he's given me.'

The clues were there right enough – if you read between the lines. The trick was to reconstruct the missing pieces of the jig-saw puzzle. If you approached the Gospels,
Acts
and
Revelations
as if they were the statements of witnesses to a crime, then you held in your hands the greatest detective story of all time. But only The Man knew all the answers to the tantalising questions raised by the texts.

‘Now, maybe you could call that an intellectual interest,' I continued. ‘But that's not the way I see it. The solution to the Christ-Mystery, if that's what's being offered, could turn all our lives around and alter the world-view of history. Now, okay, I admit I'm
not too sure whether I really want that to happen but the chance to get the inside story is irresistible.'

She handed me an ashtray. ‘So what does that mean in simple language? Are you saying that The Man
is
the Messiah promised to us by the God of Israel?'

‘No,' I said. ‘I'm prepared to accept that he could be the historical figure known as Jesus but beyond that, I'd prefer to keep my options open.'

Miriam threw up her hands. ‘That's all I need. A
Jewish
lawyer!'

‘Listen,' I said. ‘What do you want me to say? I know what he's done and what he's said – and the effect all that has had on me. But what real proof has he furnished as to his identity? He hasn't produced any evidence that would stand up in a court of law, or any investigative body you care to mention. Okay, he did that trick with his wrists, which are where some of the so-called experts say the nails would actually have been. But he also said “
Don't be misled by what you've seen, or what you think you've seen”.
'

‘I know,' she interjected. ‘But he wasn't talking about the stigmata.'

‘Miriam,' I said. ‘Do you have any idea how many cases there are on record of people bleeding from the hands and feet? Literally hundreds. Wounds in their side, lacerations on their backs, scalp wounds from invisible thorns. There are even certified statements by doctors who found the scar of a cross-bladed spear wound in the heart of a dead medieval saint! Medical opinion – when it can be persuaded to face up to the evidence – classifies the phenomena as a type of hysteria. Churchmen put it down to the power of God. They're impressed, but they're not going to go overboard if that's all he can come up with. As for your gut reaction, what one could call the ‘Linda-effect', I'd say that was highly circumstantial. Charisma, in itself, is not proof of divinity. If it was, Charles Manson would be wearing a halo. I'm not arguing about The Man's superhuman powers. Both of us have seen enough to convince the most hardened sceptic. But would it stand up to rigorous scientific analysis? Do you remember how they tore into Uri Geller after the Stanford Lab experiments?'

‘Yes,' said Miriam. ‘But I'd say that The Man was in a different league, wouldn't you?'

‘No question about it,' I said. ‘Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not knocking The Man. Everything I've done from the start has been on
the basis of believing that he was something special. It's been to protect him – though why the hell I should think he needs us to do that, I can't imagine.'