[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
To Milner's surprise, Bragford was ready with an answer. "I think I have just
the right person to help you. Just a moment," he said
156 In His Image as he reached for the phone on the coffee table. "Betty,
would you ask Mr. Tarkington to join us in my office?"
Almost immediately, the door opened and a tall muscular man entered the
office. "Come in, Sam,"
David Bragford said, as he sat his cup down. Bemley and Milner rose to meet
him. After the introductions Bragford got right to the point of explaining
what was required, but leaving out the stranger aspects of Bernley's and
Milner's interest in finding the individuals.
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20Image.txt (89 of 213) [12/24/2004 11:46:52 PM]
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20Clone%20Trilogy%20(3)/01%20-%20In%20His%20Image.txt
"Do you think you can do it?" Bragford asked.
"I believe so, sir. The security cameras at the U.N. record everyone entering
and exiting the guest lobby. I can get the tapes from U.N. Security. If Ms.
Bernley and the Assistant Secretary-
General can identify the man and boy from the tape, then I'll put our people
to work finding out who they are. If they went anywhere in the building that
required signing a registry, such as the
Secretariat Building or the Delegates Dining Room, it'll make our job a lot
easier."
"Great," Bragford said, satisfied with the prospects and confident of
Tarkington's abilities.
"Great," echoed Alice Bernley. "Now, once we find out who they are, there's
one other thing we may need your help with."
Tel Aviv
The darkened streets were nearly silent as the tall bearded man walked among
the rubble scattered across the pockmarked asphalt. His long purposeful
strides and the soft muffled sounds of the leather soles of his shoes gave no
hint of the great weight the man bore over his shoulder. The long brown,
curled hair of his traditional Hasidic earlock was flattened against his
cheek, sandwiched tightly between his face and the load that he carried. For
more than six miles the darkly-dressed man carried his load, from the business
district of the city, down long straight streets, to a cluster of apartment
buildings near the shore of the Mediterranean.
Finally, the man stopped in front of a ten-story apartment building on Ramat
Aviz and went to the front entrance. The glass doors, which had been destroyed
in a blast the night before, had been replaced with sheets of plywood. The man
knocked, and a moment later the door was cracked open and two eyes peered out
at him. As recognition registered in the eyes, the door was quickly shut again
and a table
Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me ? 157
moved so that the door could be fully opened. A rather plain woman in her
mid-thirties, dressed in a blood-stained surgical gown, greeted her unexpected
guest.
"Welcome, Rabbi," she said, as she led him to an area of the lobby that had
been converted to a makeshift clinic. Here and there family members of some of
the patients were camped out near their relatives to assist with their care.
"Not here with the others," he said, his words revealing a voice unusually
Page 97
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
rich and measured. "You must take him to your apartment."
Only now did the woman see the face of the man the rabbi carried over his
shoulder. The blood that covered his face and soaked his clothes was
foreboding enough to his prognosis, but his misshapen skull led her to believe
that the patient was as good as dead, and, perhaps, would be better off if he
was.
"Rabbi, I think we're wasting our time with this one," she said.
"You must see to it that we are not," he answered firmly, as he turned and
walked toward the stairwell. "You are a good doctor. I have full confidence in
your abilities."
"But Rabbi, he's nearly dead if he's not dead already."
"He is not dead," the rabbi said, as he opened the door and began to ascend
the first flight of stairs, the woman following close behind.
The woman moved quickly up the stairs, dipping and swerving to get around the
rabbi, then placed herself in the middle of the stairs, stopping his advance.
The rabbi stared insistently, his eyes telling her to let him pass.
"At least let me check his pulse!" she pleaded.
The rabbi paused as she took the man's wrist and checked his pulse. He watched
her eyes, entirely certain of what she would find. To her amazement the pulse
was reasonably strong. The rabbi moved
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...Trilogy%20(3)/01%20-%20In%20His%
20Image.txt (90 of 213) [12/24/2004 11:46:52 PM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/BeauSeigneur,...e%20Christ%
20Clone%20Trilogy%20(3)/01%20-%20In%20His%20Image.txt past her and continued
up the steps.
"Okay," she said, "so he's alive, but you can see the condition of his head.
He's probably hopelessly brain-damaged."
"There's nothing wrong with his brain. It's an old injury he received when he
was a child." The rabbi reached the third floor and opened the stairwell door.
"Okay, okay, so maybe he'll survive." She was becoming frantic to stop him as
he made his way ever closer to her apartment with his unwelcome patient. She
knew that her only hope was to talk him out
158 In His Image of his plan. If he insisted, however, she knew she would
have to submit: he was, after all, the rabbi. The problem was that as far as
she knew, no one had ever talked the rabbi out of anything.
"But why does he have to stay in my apartment?! Why can't he stay downstairs
with the others?"
The rabbi, who had now reached her apartment, turned to answer as he waited
for her to unlock the door. "He is unclean," he answered in a whisper, though
no one else was within earshot. "He is uncircumcised," he added in
clarification. "Also, he will need your personal care."
Convinced that it was futile to resist, the woman relented and opened the
door. "Put him in the extra bedroom," she said as she grabbed some old sheets
from the linen closet.
"Is he a gentile?" she asked, as she began spreading the sheets on the bed.
"He believes he is," he answered. "In a week or so, when he is better, I will
see to his circumcision."
"Who is he?" she asked, now reluctantly reconciled to her situation.
"His name is Tom Donafin." The rabbi waited while the woman ran water into a
basin and began to clean Tom's wounds. "He is the one of whom the prophecy
spoke when it said, 'He must bring death and die that the end and the
beginning may come.'"
The woman stopped her work and looked back at the rabbi, stunned at what she
had just been told.
"He is the last in the lineage of James, the brother of the Lord," he
continued. "He is the
Avenger of Blood."
Chapter 13 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl freetocraft.keep.pl
To Milner's surprise, Bragford was ready with an answer. "I think I have just
the right person to help you. Just a moment," he said
156 In His Image as he reached for the phone on the coffee table. "Betty,
would you ask Mr. Tarkington to join us in my office?"
Almost immediately, the door opened and a tall muscular man entered the
office. "Come in, Sam,"
David Bragford said, as he sat his cup down. Bemley and Milner rose to meet
him. After the introductions Bragford got right to the point of explaining
what was required, but leaving out the stranger aspects of Bernley's and
Milner's interest in finding the individuals.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...Trilogy%20(3)/01%20-%20In%20His%
20Image.txt (89 of 213) [12/24/2004 11:46:52 PM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/BeauSeigneur,...e%20Christ%
20Clone%20Trilogy%20(3)/01%20-%20In%20His%20Image.txt
"Do you think you can do it?" Bragford asked.
"I believe so, sir. The security cameras at the U.N. record everyone entering
and exiting the guest lobby. I can get the tapes from U.N. Security. If Ms.
Bernley and the Assistant Secretary-
General can identify the man and boy from the tape, then I'll put our people
to work finding out who they are. If they went anywhere in the building that
required signing a registry, such as the
Secretariat Building or the Delegates Dining Room, it'll make our job a lot
easier."
"Great," Bragford said, satisfied with the prospects and confident of
Tarkington's abilities.
"Great," echoed Alice Bernley. "Now, once we find out who they are, there's
one other thing we may need your help with."
Tel Aviv
The darkened streets were nearly silent as the tall bearded man walked among
the rubble scattered across the pockmarked asphalt. His long purposeful
strides and the soft muffled sounds of the leather soles of his shoes gave no
hint of the great weight the man bore over his shoulder. The long brown,
curled hair of his traditional Hasidic earlock was flattened against his
cheek, sandwiched tightly between his face and the load that he carried. For
more than six miles the darkly-dressed man carried his load, from the business
district of the city, down long straight streets, to a cluster of apartment
buildings near the shore of the Mediterranean.
Finally, the man stopped in front of a ten-story apartment building on Ramat
Aviz and went to the front entrance. The glass doors, which had been destroyed
in a blast the night before, had been replaced with sheets of plywood. The man
knocked, and a moment later the door was cracked open and two eyes peered out
at him. As recognition registered in the eyes, the door was quickly shut again
and a table
Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me ? 157
moved so that the door could be fully opened. A rather plain woman in her
mid-thirties, dressed in a blood-stained surgical gown, greeted her unexpected
guest.
"Welcome, Rabbi," she said, as she led him to an area of the lobby that had
been converted to a makeshift clinic. Here and there family members of some of
the patients were camped out near their relatives to assist with their care.
"Not here with the others," he said, his words revealing a voice unusually
Page 97
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
rich and measured. "You must take him to your apartment."
Only now did the woman see the face of the man the rabbi carried over his
shoulder. The blood that covered his face and soaked his clothes was
foreboding enough to his prognosis, but his misshapen skull led her to believe
that the patient was as good as dead, and, perhaps, would be better off if he
was.
"Rabbi, I think we're wasting our time with this one," she said.
"You must see to it that we are not," he answered firmly, as he turned and
walked toward the stairwell. "You are a good doctor. I have full confidence in
your abilities."
"But Rabbi, he's nearly dead if he's not dead already."
"He is not dead," the rabbi said, as he opened the door and began to ascend
the first flight of stairs, the woman following close behind.
The woman moved quickly up the stairs, dipping and swerving to get around the
rabbi, then placed herself in the middle of the stairs, stopping his advance.
The rabbi stared insistently, his eyes telling her to let him pass.
"At least let me check his pulse!" she pleaded.
The rabbi paused as she took the man's wrist and checked his pulse. He watched
her eyes, entirely certain of what she would find. To her amazement the pulse
was reasonably strong. The rabbi moved
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...Trilogy%20(3)/01%20-%20In%20His%
20Image.txt (90 of 213) [12/24/2004 11:46:52 PM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/BeauSeigneur,...e%20Christ%
20Clone%20Trilogy%20(3)/01%20-%20In%20His%20Image.txt past her and continued
up the steps.
"Okay," she said, "so he's alive, but you can see the condition of his head.
He's probably hopelessly brain-damaged."
"There's nothing wrong with his brain. It's an old injury he received when he
was a child." The rabbi reached the third floor and opened the stairwell door.
"Okay, okay, so maybe he'll survive." She was becoming frantic to stop him as
he made his way ever closer to her apartment with his unwelcome patient. She
knew that her only hope was to talk him out
158 In His Image of his plan. If he insisted, however, she knew she would
have to submit: he was, after all, the rabbi. The problem was that as far as
she knew, no one had ever talked the rabbi out of anything.
"But why does he have to stay in my apartment?! Why can't he stay downstairs
with the others?"
The rabbi, who had now reached her apartment, turned to answer as he waited
for her to unlock the door. "He is unclean," he answered in a whisper, though
no one else was within earshot. "He is uncircumcised," he added in
clarification. "Also, he will need your personal care."
Convinced that it was futile to resist, the woman relented and opened the
door. "Put him in the extra bedroom," she said as she grabbed some old sheets
from the linen closet.
"Is he a gentile?" she asked, as she began spreading the sheets on the bed.
"He believes he is," he answered. "In a week or so, when he is better, I will
see to his circumcision."
"Who is he?" she asked, now reluctantly reconciled to her situation.
"His name is Tom Donafin." The rabbi waited while the woman ran water into a
basin and began to clean Tom's wounds. "He is the one of whom the prophecy
spoke when it said, 'He must bring death and die that the end and the
beginning may come.'"
The woman stopped her work and looked back at the rabbi, stunned at what she
had just been told.
"He is the last in the lineage of James, the brother of the Lord," he
continued. "He is the
Avenger of Blood."
Chapter 13 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]