Wired (27 page)

Graham glanced around the room to make sure no one had sat down and might be listening. “I don't know,” he said slowly. “Sounds
awfully far out.”

“Look, Dad. When Scripture says that God gave us eternal life, the book is talking to us about something that happened in
that supernatural place.” He leaned forward. “I'm talking about the domain that exists between earth and heaven.”

Graham felt unhinged. Obviously, Matt was no longer some high school kid spinning smoke dreams in the air. His son had learned
an extraordinary amount in a very small time. Matthew was confronting him ideas for which he had no refutation.

“Dad, listen to me,” Matt continued. “Jesus Christ will open this world to you. He helps you keep one foot in this planet
and puts the other one in God's world. You can't see it, but that place is just as real as this one is.”

“Matt, I have a hard time believing in things that I can't see.”

“No you don't,” Matt fired back. “You simply
think that you
do. The fact is that you believe in trust, love, caring, and many other qualities that are completely unseen. Among them
is faith. Right?”

Reluctantly Graham nodded his head. “Yes, I guess that I do.”

“Dad, all of these wars and our current chaos is only part of an eternal, heavenly battle that's an extension of an unseen
war with evil. When you invite Jesus the Christ into your life, He will help you understand what you can't grasp right now.”

“Do you really think so?”

Matt smiled broadly. “
I know so
.”

“I wouldn't have any idea how to do such a thing.”

“Look, Dad. You've been kicking around all of the ideas, the explanations that Adah has given you. You can see how they fit
with what's happening, but you have a hard time
fully
believing they are true. The only way it is going to come together is when you put your complete trust in those explanations.
That's what you've got to do with Jesus Christ. Put your complete trust in Him.”

“But how?” Graham pushed.

“You have to pray.”

Graham ran his hands nervously through his hair. “Well… I don't know… exactly… how I would pray.”

“Dad, Jesus is here at this moment. He's not standing among us in the flesh, but the savior is mysteriously present… like
the air. The oxygen and Jesus are both vital to our being alive. When you simply talk to Him as if you can see Him and He
will respond inwardly. Praying is trusting Him to enter your life.”

Graham could feel his heart beating faster. His palms felt sweaty and for a moment he felt light-headed. The idea of praying
in the middle of a dormitory cafeteria seemed bizarre and inappropriate, but Graham knew he had come to a turning point. As
surely as the earthquake shaking the city, God had shaken everything in him.

“There's no time like the present,” Matt encouraged him.

“Okay.” Graham leaned back in his chair and looked hard into his son's eyes. Matt's steady gaze called Graham's bluff. He
slowly closed his eyes and for few moments walked into the silence as if it were a huge cavern opening up to a spelunker.
The stillness was suddenly filled with a fullness that surprised him.

“Lord,” Graham said quietly. “I want to trust you and I'm not sure how, but I pledge to you my complete confidence and obedience.
I want to believe totally. Please lead me.” He slowly opened his eyes.

“He will,” Matthew promised. “More than you could believe possible.”

G
RAHAM'S TAXI RIDE
back from Evanston felt considerably different then the ride out. The weight of the world seemed to have lifted from his
shoulders. For reasons he couldn't quite define, nothing felt as oppressive. While the taxi sped down the highway, Graham
remembered over and over how events unfolded since the end of October, leading him now to pray with his son. Nothing could
have ever been further from what he would have believed possible.

Once again his cell phone rang. Graham checked the caller identification on the small window. Sure enough! The mayor was calling
again. This time Graham felt prepared.

“Peck here.”

“Got any report on the train lines?” the mayor began. “The Metro offices are telling us they are closed.”

“Until all the trusses have been checked, the trains won't run. They've got to make sure there is no structural damage. I
think it will take some considerable time to be certain.”

“That's what I was afraid of. When will you be back in the office?”

“If we don't run into any difficulties, I would think in probably thirty to forty minutes at the most.”

“Okay. As soon as you arrive, come back to my inner office. I'm expecting a holographic call from Mr. Carson. It's important
and you should hear it.”

Listening to Borden Carson was the last thing he wanted to do. “I'll be there.” Graham cringed.

“Good. See you then.” Bridge clicked off.

Graham thought about what he had heard. While it was impossible to guess what Carson was anything but good. The possibilities
left Graham feeling empty, but he was no longer afraid. The taxi sped down the highway.

“Please go on back,” Frank Bridges's secretary told Graham. “They are waiting for you.” She pointed toward the wall.

Graham waited for the panel door to slide open, but
they
rolled around in his mind. At the least, Pemrose must be back there. No doubt, he and Bridges had already completed their
own full-scale discussion before Graham arrived. The door slid open Graham walked down the hall.

“Ah, Peck!” the mayor said. “Just in time! What did you find out there?”

Graham glanced around the room. Jake Pemrose was sitting there smoking his usual black cigar an looking like the king of world.
To his surprise, Al Meacham had been added to the group. Meacham had a tall, thin build with a long narrow face. His deep-set
eyes always gave his face a sinister cast. Graham nodded to both men.

“Al's been part of the Inner Circle for some time,” Bridges explained. “He's an important part of our plans. Of course, you
know each other well.”

Graham nodded soberly, but Meacham made no response.

“Gentlemen,” Bridges said. “The time has come for us also to refer to Mr. Carson as Hassan Rashid. When we are dealing with
Middle Eastern business, we will use this name. Like saying mister in English, the proper way of addressing him in Arabic
is to first call him Al-sayyid. In a few moments, Al-sayyid Rashid will be addressing us. Everybody ready to hear his message?”

The men settled back in their chairs. Light emanated from the holographic transmitter and in a few moments the white beam
turned light green, forming into a shape. As the last time, Borden Camber Carson sat behind a massive desk in a white Nehru
jacket. His black hair and deeply tanned skin came into focus first, then Carson's black eyes appeared peared with piercing
intensity. As had been true in previous transmissions, Carson's smile was instantly engaging, immediately drawing each man
into his sphere of influence. He exuded a warmth that felt personal and intimate. Leaning forward, Carson gave a slight wave
and the large diamond ring on his pinky finger sparkled.

“Al-syyid Rashid,” Mayor Bridges began. “As always, we are honored that you would speak with us.”

“Thank you,” Rashid answered with only a trace of an accent. “I am pleased each of you could be here this afternoon.” Rashid
slowly stared at each man sitting in the mayor's office as if he was measuring them carefully. “Good to see you, Mr. Peck.”
he said to Graham before moving on to Meacham.

When Rashid said his name, Graham felt frozen in his chair. The man spoke as if they were old friends, close business associates,
when in fact, Graham had been no more than an observer in a couple of transmissions. Rashid, or Carson, had an uncanny way
of setting unspoken rules, reshuffling the cards, and defining relationships in his own way. He swept Graham into the Inner
Circle as if there had been a complete discussion of the terms of membership when, in fact, Graham had agreed to nothing,
absolutely nothing! He reminded himself that Rashid's magnetism implied nothing on his part.

“I understand Chicago has been struck by a terrible earthquake,” Hassan Rashid began. “People will be terrified so this is
an important time for you to further assure them that you have everything
under your control
. You must keep the citizens under your constant tutelage.”

“Yes sir,” the mayor responded immediately.

“In order to create calm, I am instructing Mayor Bridges to announce tonight that I will establish a new peace pact with the
Russians and will insist that all the Arab nations align themselves with me once this agreement is signed. The promise of
a future peace treaty will be a welcome relief from the constant wars that have been burning around the world.”

“Excellent!” Bridges exclaimed. “A most helpful announcement. When will the agreement be finished?”

“I cannot say at this time, but we are moving the parties into place in order that the document will soon be finalized.”

Graham could feel Al Meacham staring at him with his dark-set eyes. For reasons that he couldn't discern, Meacham seemed to
be as intent on watching him as he was in listening to Rashid.

“Please make your citizens aware that my leadership is bringing this agreement to pass.” Rashid smiled a broad affectionate
smile. “Our time is short, gentlemen. We must make the most of every opportunity that comes our way.”

“Thank you, Al-sayyid Rashid,” Bridges said. “We will set up a television appearance immediately to broadcast your announcement
and we hope the results will follow soon.”

Rashid once again waved his hand in a polite gesture. “Goodbye,” he said softly with a gentle tone that almost sounded like
a child telling his mother goodnight. “
Ma
-
as
-
sa
-
leh
-
ma
.”

Graham stared at the column of light as the image diminished. This man was a bundle of contradictions. While appearing to
be an innocent apostle of the truth, he had actually been telling them that he was an international power broker. With a gentle
smile on his face, he undoubtedly had a nuclear bomb in his hip pocket.

“Al-sayyid Rashid has given us the next playing card for tonight's television appearance,” the mayor said. “Jake, you get
the television cameras in place and Graham, you can write up a statement from what you've heard. We don't have much time.”

Graham glanced at his watch. He wouldn't be leaving as early as he had hoped, but he had no alternative except to bang out
the mayor's desired announcement on his word processor. Graham hated the idea that he was the voice this monster, but for
the moment he had no alternative unless he wanted to endanger his relationship with Adah Honi and the New Seekers. He stood
up to go back to his office.

“You have an important assignment.” Al Meacham said. Not one syllable had an inflection in it; his voice had a deeply ominous
sound. “We will await the outcomes of your work.”

Graham studied Meacham's empty eyes. The man looked cold and indifferent. “Sure, Al. I need to get to work.” He quickly walked
away. Meacham was not a man he wanted to spend time with.

B
EING AN IMPORTANT
city official had its advantages in little things like finding a taxi when none was available, but the ride up to Arlington
Heights was not without its problems. The Highway 294 tollway around O'Hare International Airport was closed, forcing the
taxi to retreat and take the 290 that pushed them a little further off course. At eight o'clock Graham finally reached home.
Crown Point Street looked empty when Graham got out of the taxi. A cold wind was blowing and the snow had piled up against
the curb. Turning up his collar, he hurried into the house.

“Hey, Daddy's home!” George Peck shouted when Graham walked into the living room.

Five-year-old Jeff made a hard charge across the room and tackled his father. “Got ya!” he shouted.

“Hey, the Indians attached me,” Graham said, hugging his two boys.

Jackie walked out of the kitchen. “I was really worried you might not be able to get here. I know the roads have to be bad”.

“Some are; some aren't,” Graham said. “The airport highway is shut down.”

Mary appeared in the doorway. “You look passable,” she said skeptically.

Graham gestured for her to come over. “I want to talk with all of you for a moment. Everybody sit down.”

Mary rolled her eyes, but reluctantly sat on a piano bench. Jackie scooted in next to her. George and Jeff piled in around
their father's feet.

“I don't want you walking off,” Graham said to Mary. “What I have to say is for everyone to hear.” He watched his daughter
and knew she had already turned him off, but she was going to hear what he had to say whether she liked it or not. “I made
an important decision today.”

Jackie leaned forward. “Great. Tell us about it.”

Slowly and carefully Graham detailed his trip to Evanston to meet with Matthew after the earthquake. He talked about his personal
waffling back and forth on what they had heard in the New seekers group, but finally his mind was made up. Graham described
how he prayed and the difference it made. The living room became intensely quiet.

“Graham, that's wonderful!” Jackie got up and came over and kissed him.

Even though Mary worked at looking bored, the boys listened intently. “What does that mean?” George asked.

“From now on, we are going to live the Christian faith in this house,” Graham said. “That's our number one goal.”

“Does that mean I can't play baseball with my friends?” Jeff asked.

“Sure
doesn't
,” Graham said. “It means you can play even harder.”

“Great!” Jeff said.

Graham looked at Mary. “Do you have anything to say?”

She shook her head and frowned.

“Nothing?” Graham pushed.

“It doesn't make any different what I think,” Mary said insolently. “You've already made that clear. All I'd say is that you
better be careful or we could all get into big trouble.”