A Covenant with Death: The Peacock Trilogy - Book 3 (12 page)

Ammad seized the opportunity to feign peaceful intensions. “Peace, brothers.” He sighed as if their dispute pained him. “We are all bullheaded we sons of Shem—you, the offspring of Arphaxad, and we the offspring of Aram. One thing Pendleton did to unite us was to destroy our key holy places. He showed his disdain for both our beliefs. When he could not settle disputes between us, I settled them, and not all in favor of Muslim groups. To have peace we must have trust. Tell me your demands.”

The Hasidic acquiesced.

Levinson spoke with his hands palm up as one accepting a gift. “We have a hand carved cornerstone. Moses Law demands this. We ask that stone be the first stone lain. And…” a hush fell on the Israeli delegation.

Ammad waited, keeping an even countenance.

“Jerusalem, and particularly East Jerusalem, must not belong to any people. It must be The Lord’s City.”

Levinson swallowed and sat quietly. The tremor in his hands showed he didn’t believe Ammad would agree.

Ammad laughed so loud his voice echoed around him. “After 25 years of unsettled peace, these are all your demands?”

He tossed a map onto the table. Levinson and his counselors reviewed it. The Hasidics hovered over it.

“We don’t understand the circles within circles. They overlap the whole eastern side from north to south.”

“From Herod’s Gate to the Dung Gate and eastward shall be God’s State.” Ammad rose to his full height, towering over the assembly. “How you explain this to your people is up to you. God will show Himself one day. If the God of the Hebrews shows up, I will personally submit to Him. If Allah through
his prophet
shows up, you will submit yourselves. Until then, God as we believe in Him shall rule, either in the Temple or in the Dome of the Rock. As to the complex of Jerusalem, The Global Realm shall provide for its citizens in a free zone.”

“Let me hear your vote, one by one,” Levinson said.

Akbari counted the votes as Levinson polled his delegation. Of
The
Seventy
, all but three voted in favor. The three Hasidic men, beards trimmed, hair braided, and wearing black dresses, declared as one, “Never shall we agree to equality with an Iranian.”

“Then I strip you of your position in the Sanhedrin!” Levinson scowled.

“We resign.” They were out of the meeting room in less than a minute.

“Jews,” Levinson quipped. “You can’t fire them.”

Ammad handed a pen to Levinson. “You sign first. I have a Realm photographer here for such a time.” He waited until all had signed, then took the pen and signed his name. “This day will change the history of our people.”

He flashed a huge smile and the photographer snapped photos. A surge of energy ran through him. He stood and shook hands with each signer saying, “Peace between the Sons of Shem,” until Akbari tapped him on the shoulder. “Your broadcast is in fifteen minutes.”

Chapter 17

As First Citizen, Pendleton would speak to the world last. He scrutinized his notes again. The brightest minds in the world prepared the talking points for him. But these weren’t the words he wished to say. He scribbled a one-page list of key points and slumped forward, hands pressed against his forehead. The love of his achievements had blinded him to the reality of deception. He’d basked in the adulation of his own circle of friends and ignored his critics. So he had to accept his failure and rely on God. Ruling a sinful world was an impossible job.

Regional Governor Chui wrapped up his speech in forty minutes. He spoke in English, translated into Mandarin for those whose primary language was Chinese. Well liked, polite, Chui extolled Pendleton’s virtues, pointing out the huge accomplishments of mankind in 25 years by working as a team. He praised the First Citizen’s role in abolishing money and cleaning up the oceans and the air.

Chui defended his own capabilities and the successes within his Region, which led the world in almost every measurable category. He never mentioned Ammad. But his closing statement threw a knife directly at him. “Arthur Pendleton keeps his word. He did what he said he’d do. But his time is at an end. If he wins, I will continue my support of him. But do not be misled by flowery words and promises. Do not be swayed by false statements and pipedreams too good to be true. Rely on your intellect when you vote, not your emotions.”

Dressed in his gold and black Global Realm uniform, Chui waved at the camera and the feed from the Beijing Complex ceased.

“Score from Edison,” Pendleton whispered to Van Meer.

Van Meer raised a hand. “One moment.” Then his eyebrows furrowed. “Ninety-two percent effective. The best since your speech in twelve years ago. In fact the best rating ever.”

“Let’s hope the people don’t think like computers,” Pendleton said.

The feed connected in from the Tel Aviv Complex, and Ammad al-Sistani appeared. Relaxed, self-confident, he spoke words of comfort and peace. In the first fifteen minutes, he used the word
reconciliation
eight times. “I forgive Arthur Pendleton and Global Realm personnel for their attack on Muslim Space Complexes,” he said. “And apologize for any unintended damage in response.”

“Pope Peter is on the line for you,” Duarte called from the doorway.

Van Meer handed Pendleton his cell.

“Yes.”

“The Devil speaks of peace with the Jews. Listen to the tone. His words are sweet as honey, but laced with arsenic. He hasn’t mentioned you except to allude that it was you whose attacks killed people when the altercation occurred. He’s speaking to only Muslims and Jews. It is as though the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

“He’s getting to us. But I’m not sure what he’ll say.”

He heard Peter sigh. “Nothing good. Prepare to flee if you lose, my dear friend. And may God have mercy upon us all.”

Ammad went on, “I have a message for my Christian citizens. The hour of decision is upon you. Life in the Global Realm will not change under my rule. The only exception will be emphasis on finding common agreement in our faiths, as the Jews and I have arrived at.”

The cameras rose a bit, showing Akbari in his green robes, arms stretched wide in a welcoming pose.

“Together, the Sons of Shem will work for a common purpose, even rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem.” Ammad matched Akbari’s pose. “We extend the same offering of peace to our Christian brothers of the Book. I personally will take up residence in Rome and allow for the reopening of the Vatican as a separate State as to sovereignty. Rome will be as Jerusalem will be. Ruled by God. The God who shows Himself true shall be adored in both.”

As Ammad was closing, the cameras rolled in for a close-up. He clasped his hands together. His eyes were the center of focus. “Our First Citizen has long debated the closing of the entertainment centers, at least the pleasure houses. He’s told me a number of times he doesn’t want to be a moral policeman.”

“The bastard!” Van Meer yelled. Pendleton raised a hand to silence him.

“I fear he, like many Christians, has a skewed view of why God created sex.” Ammad smiled. “What happened when the tribe of Benjamin was close to extinction? How were women treated? During the Crusades, didn’t the Christian armies rape and plunder? God did not wish for women to be treated so.”

“Where is he going?” Van Meer asked.

Pendleton shook his head.

“Here is a fact, when the
blessed prophet
is revealed. He will create Jannah, or Heaven, on earth. Believers in Jannah may have their heart’s desire, both men and women. Sex is one of the greatest of God’s gifts for both. It is not to be withheld.” Ammad motioned to Akbari, who nodded approval. “This is why Mohammed agreed to
Mut’a,
the temporary marriage. His warriors had no wife with them during the holy war. In his mercy, the Prophet allowed them to marry a woman
(temporarily)
by giving her a garment.
Mut’a
as a practice exists today. If a man and a woman agree to marry temporarily, and she accepts his gift without questions. They are married until they agree to separate."

He pointed his finger and wagged it. “Entertainment centers achieve this same purpose. May Allah bless you.”

The feed cut. Even Pendleton sat mesmerized. So eloquent and reassuring, the man offered everything without really offering anything. No specifics except the promise of the restoration of the primary religious sites to their former glory and keeping the entertainment centers open. Not a speech anyone on his staff had expected. He wondered how he would sound speaking after such an orator. “How did Edison rate him?”

Van Meer shook his head as he stared at the screen. “Edison says Ammad’s speech was not measurable. His voice tones did not emotionally translate.”

“What?”

Pendleton shuddered. He tried to hide his shaking hand. He had no gauge to measure Ammad’s effectiveness, plus the speech gave him nothing to combat, except the entertainment centers and the attack on Muslim sites. If he denied the specifics of the attack, he’d sound defensive, and he would be.

“You’re on in five minutes, First Citizen.”

God. Give me your words, not mine.

He almost chuckled aloud. In his most dire hour, he reached out to the Almighty. Why had he not done this before? His own pride. Calling on Him meant losing control. Pendleton figured he would only ask God for a favor when all seemed hopeless and save His Sovereign the trouble of bailing him out. He threw away his prepared speech. Time for
faith.
His problem—he had more head knowledge than faith.

Pendleton took his position at the podium of the Global Realm, gold and black outfit—gold and black podium. He inhaled a long breath of air. The count started down as the red light flashed, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. The green light came on. Pendleton moistened his lips and said. “As of this moment, I am no longer First Citizen. I am candidate Arthur Pendleton. I could speak for a long time about our accomplishments over the past twenty-five years. But each of you has your own opinion.”

Many old enemies were dead. Many old friends as well. He stood for a moment wondering where they were keeping his wife. He could always look to her for reassurance. No Lovey, no Milton, no Mum, only himself and God. “My daughter tells me the entertainments centers serve a realistic purpose and should remain. However, I regret allowing them, because God dislikes the acts that go on within them. If you retain me as First Citizen, I will close the sex parlors. The rest of the entertainment can remain.”

He may have destroyed his hope of reelection by that statement. But God told the Israelites to tear down the pagan altars. They disobeyed and suffered His wrath. Pendleton wiped his forehead. He thought about making his plea for Christians to prepare for Christ’s return. But couldn’t speak the words. Instead, he said. “We, as humanity, will never agree on religion. So I will not make it an issue. Believe what you will. If you are happy with the way the Global Realm is run, keep me in power. If not, choose Director Chui. I’m comfortable with him in the job.”

Pendleton called for a close up. “As for Ammad al-Sistani, when his lips are moving he is lying. Neither Director Chui nor I will lie to you. Thank you. God bless you all.”

  Van Meer’s mouth dropped open. Duarte, who was near the door, hurried to Pendleton’s side as the green light went out ending the broadcast. He wiped his mentor’s forehead and smiled. “Well, now the people will vote.”

“All that preparation,” Van Meer shouted, face red and sweaty. “Why did you bother to appear at all? You practically told people to vote for Chui instead of you.”

“Edison gave him an 85%.” Duarte said, pointing at the screen.

“I’m surprised he did that well.” Van Meer wadded up Pendleton’s prepared speech and flung it across the room. “Too late to change things now.”

“God told me what to say, and I said it.” Pendleton rushed to the door and left. “I’m going to reach out to my kids.”

As he went, Van Meer called to him. “At least you landed a punch on Ammad’s jaw. I’ll say that for you.”

Pendleton dashed across the hall to the loo, went in, slammed the door to the nearest stall, and sat down with his hands cradling his head. His life’s work flashed through his mind. Millions dead. The Earth failing. Miscalculating Ammad’s intentions. His Lovey might be dead. His daughter opposed his decisions. Only George, Harry, Hans, and Duarte remained on his team, and Hans was pissed at him.

God. What do I do?

Repent!

Pendleton choked mid-breath. The sound of a mighty voice rang in his mind. He wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. Confined and helpless, his lips trembled and streams of tears flowed down his cheeks. “I . . .”

Silence.

Pendleton gasped for air.

“
You are a vapor but for Me. Did I not know you before the creation of the world?”

He’d heard that all his life. God knew everything Man would do and created him anyway.

“
You cannot know My plans. Your plans will fail. Now speak. Be sincere in what you say.
”

“Forgive the sinful man I am.”

The voice he heard softened to that of a father speaking to his son.

“
Already done. I forgive your deeds and will save your soul. Consequences are a different matter. I cannot interfere with what is already in motion.”

“Tell me what to do?”

“
Your reign is over. Go to Rome.
”

A chill rolled over Pendleton. He understood. Without saying the words, God told him to go. He would do only that—seek no advice—tell only Duarte. As he rose, he snickered. The snicker became an outright laugh. Leave it to God to speak to him on the pot in the loo. Heaven must be a wonderful place.