The Didymus Contingency

EIGHTEEN
Betrayal
2005

The noise was immense as Sally crashed into the wardrobe department and spilled into a closet of medieval outfits, knocking chain mail, long swords and shields displaying every sort of national emblem, to the floor. She fell to her hands and knees and vomited into a leather boot. David had told Sally about the side effects of time travel, but the twisting feeling in her stomach was much worse than he had described. And she had yet to actually travel through time. She simply used the watch to transport from midair to the wardrobe department, which she supervised. She knew if she was going to save Tom and David then she better fit in as best as possible and her current, skin tight, black ninja outfit wasn’t going to cut it.

Sally moved to retch again, but her entire body became rigid and she held down her bile as the door creaked open. Someone must have heard the noise! Sally ducked behind a rack of British army uniforms and held her breath. She could hear footsteps wandering in the dark, searching for something…for a light switch!

The lights clicked on and set the room ablaze with fluorescent light. “Hello?” came a voice that Sally recognized.

“Director McField, is that you?”

How did Spencer know it was her?

Spencer stopped moving. She could feel his eyes searching for her. “I saw you take the watch, Sally. David told me that if something went wrong that I could trust you. He should have been back by now…and that means something went wrong…but you figured that out already, didn’t you? That’s why you’re going back too?”

“How the hell do you know all that?” Sally said, as she stood up.

Spencer flashed his teeth with a confident smile, “You hired me, Sally. You know how smart I am.”

Sally smirked. Spencer was right. He was smart, but he knew entirely too much. “What do you know about David?”

Spencer adjusted his glasses and only made a halfhearted attempt to hide his proud smile. “I saw him.”

“When?” Sally asked.

“Before Tom or David ever went back.”

“So did I. Everyone did.”

“Correction. The David I saw had come back from the past, dressed in clothing appropriate to the early A.D. period in ancient Israel,” Spencer explained. “A closer inspection of the receiving area’s inventory reveals that there was, in fact, one item missing, and the second time signature was no glitch in time space, no random effect created by time travel…”

“It was David…” Sally said.

“Precisely. David gave me instructions to follow-which I did perfectly, I might add-and that included locating you if he and Tom should not return to within an hour of their departure time. I deduced the logical choice of action would be to send someone else back in time, but upon seeing the beefy Captain Roberts slip into the time stream, I knew it was only a matter of time before you took action yourself.”

Sally was growing tired of Spencer’s lengthy explanations. “All wonderful, Spencer, but get to the point.”

Spencer remembered who he was talking to and straightened up. “I’m here to help you, Director McField.”

What good could a skinny little scientist do Sally now? This wasn’t a time for brain storming, hypothesizing or arguing the fate of the universe. She needed action. “Spencer, can you buy me some time?”

“Time is our specialty, Director McField,” Spencer said proudly. “Time is our new best friend.”

Sally went into detail quickly about Captain Roberts’s mission and how he planned to carry it out. She told him about the robot insects with the poison that could kill a man and make it look like an allergic reaction. She told him everything. If David trusted Spencer, she could too.

“What time to you plan to travel to?” Spencer asked.

“Same time as Roberts, but far enough away so that he doesn’t see me.”

Sally threw a robe over her ninja outfit and sneakers. She knew the sneakers might be seen, but she also knew she might have to do some running, and not wearing sandals would give her an advantage. She disguised her watch with some twine as best she could and threw a covering over her head and face. She was pale as a ghost and didn’t want stick out more then she already would. “Can you keep things busy here for a while? Create a temporal emergency or something? Give me some extra time?”

“Can do,” Spencer said with a thumbs-up. “You don’t have to worry about a thing here. We’ve got everything under control.”

Sally thought Spencer’s speech was strange. He had referred to himself in the plural three times now. But he was probably just nervous and there was no time to have a personal conversation.

“Thanks,” Sally said. “You’re a good man.”

After tapping a series of buttons on her watch, Sally said, “Better stand clear.”

Spencer walked to the edge of the room and watched as Sally disappeared into time with a bright flash and a boom. This had been easier than he thought it would be. When the idea to turn the recent events to his advantage had entered his mind, as though from divine inspiration, he wasn’t sure it would work. But Sally had played right into his hands and his recent alliances would make sure he moved up the ladder quickly.

Spencer pulled a cell phone from his back pocket, flipped it open and dialed two numbers. “Director Dwight? Yes, it’s Spencer. Director McField just went back… Yes, sir…same time as Captain Roberts… Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Yes, sir!”

Spencer was all smiles as he hung up the phone. Just like that, he had secured David’s position as lead scientist of the time travel unit. He was moving up in the world! Spencer giggled to himself and headed out the door for Receiving Area Alpha, eager to begin studying his priceless artifacts from the future.

Spencer was feeling too good to notice the voices of congratulations within his mind were not his own. “Good job! You’re so great! But we still have more to do. Yes. Much more work for us to do. Yes! Yes. The future awaits us.”

As Spencer left the room, two shadows followed him. After rounding the corner, the second shadow detached and moved down the hallway, toward Director Dwight’s meeting room.

Director George Dwight and Jake Parrish sat across from each other on plush leather chairs. The room was small and lit only from above. It was the kind of room perfect for a meeting such as this. Soundproof walls. No windows. No vents. No doors.

“Things haven’t gone exactly to plan, sir, but I think we have things under control now,” Jake said.

“How’s the throat?” George asked.

Jake rubbed his throat. It hurt like hell. “That woman can throw a punch.”

“And she’s as smart as she is strong, so don’t go assuming she’s out of the game just yet,” George said.

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s the status on our little friends?”

“Prepped and ready to go. We know where and when Sally and Roberts are, and with the onboard facial recognition software, the other two shouldn’t be too much more difficult to track down.”

“Has the poison been altered?”

“Of course, sir. The poison acts the same, but its kill time has been accelerated to a half hour. Sally will have little time to find them and administer the antidote. Of course, by then, it will be too late for all of them.”

“Excellent. What a regrettable mess this is. It’s a PR nightmare, really.”

“Spencer and a team are prepping to retrieve the bodies even as we speak. I think a helicopter crash would be a fitting way to dispose of the bodies.”

George leaned back with a smile. “You’re trying to make director.”

Jake smiled. “I believe we have an opening.”

“Get this done for me… Consider the position filled.”

Jake stood to his feet and headed for an empty wall. “Better have my door etched. This won’t take long.”

The wall whooshed open in front of Jake. He exited the bare room and turned to the right, his pace quickening with every step. The door closed silently behind him, leaving him alone in the cool hallway. George was a blind fool. Jake was far more than an assistant. He ran this company. He was in charge. As soon as he finished cleaning up George’s mess, he would apply himself to usurping his boss and taking this company to places of power never before dreamed of.

“Do you think it’s possible?” Jake asked himself aloud.

“We think so.” Jake answered.

“So do we!”

“Yes!”

“This is so fun!”

Tom laughed loudly at Matthew’s impression of a Pharisee. It was uncanny. Jesus and the twelve had been dining together in a room they had rented for the night. Rarely did they eat a meal so good that wasn’t given to them for free. This meal was different, it was bought and paid for and the men and women who served them were not being charitable. They were being paid. This wasn’t just another meal. It was formal, as formal as a meal could be when you’re all lying around a table, digging into the same piles of food with shards of ancient Pita bread.

How the meal had begun was even stranger. Jesus had washed all their feet. Tom had grown used to having his feet washed by servants; it was customary here in the past where everyone wore sandals and ate while reclining, placing their dusty feet precariously close to the food. But Tom had never had his feet washed by another disciple, let alone Jesus. He was amazed at how humbling an experience it was.

But the washing of Tom’s feet was nothing compared to what Jesus did next. He took some bread and some wine, said something about how it was his blood and flesh and then they all ate it. It took Tom, and he imagined everyone else, some time to shake the feeling that this was Jesus’s way of saying goodbye. Tom wished David were here to explain what was happening.

The fact that David wasn’t present caused Tom some distress at first because of the recent serious mood. David was waiting outside, eating by himself. Jesus and David had agreed that this meal was for the disciples’ benefit alone. But Tom didn’t feel up to any big surprises. He could usually judge from David’s facial expressions when something good or bad was about to happen, but David wasn’t there. Tom did his best to settle in and forget about what might or might not happen. So far, the meal had gone as they usually did. Matthew told jokes. Everyone laughed.

Tom had been sitting next to the disciple named John, who was likable enough, but who Tom had never gotten to know very well. The two had bonded over dinner as people who eat and joke together sometimes do. There were twelve disciples after all, and all were almost always busy. Groups of friends had formed among the disciples and getting to know everyone hadn’t been the priority over the past few years. But now Tom wondered if he hadn’t been missing out on something.

John was smart. Damn smart, and Tom enjoyed hearing John’s theories on everything from how birds fly to what craters on the moon were. What impressed Tom the most was that John was often close to the mark. If he hadn’t become a disciple of Jesus, John might well have been the world’s first Da Vinci.

Tom looked up from his food and saw Judas re-enter the room. He had been fidgety and nervous all night. Tom decided to ask Judas what was wrong in the morning. Right now, he was having too much fun and Judas was busy ordering food and paying servants.

“Friends, brothers, a moment please,” Jesus said, as he stood up.

The room fell silent and all eyes were on Jesus. “Now that you’re all here, there is something I need to tell you…something I need to tell you now so that when it happens, you will believe what I have taught you. You might not believe what I’m about to say, but be assured, it is the truth… One of you…will betray me.”

Everyone stopped breathing. The disciples looked at each other. Was he serious? Who was he talking about?

A rumble of discomfort shot through Tom’s stomach. He had almost betrayed Jesus. Did that count? Was Jesus talking about him? Or was it Judas? He knew history believed Judas to be the betrayer of Jesus, but it didn’t seem remotely possible. Tom looked for Judas and found him talking to a servant, not even paying attention at the moment. The man had proven to be a good friend, not a killer.

Peter, who was sitting next to John, who was sitting next to Jesus, nudged John with his bony elbow. “Ask him who it is.”

John nodded and turned to Jesus, “Who betrays you? Tell us, which one of us will it be?”

There was one last piece of bread on the table. Jesus picked it up. “I will give this bread to the one who betrays me after I have dipped it in the oil.”

Jesus took the bread and dipped it in a small dish of olive oil, garlic and assorted spices. Just then, Judas, who had been all but oblivious to the conversation, as he was talking to a servant about money, leaned down to Jesus’s ear and said, “We’re out of bread, should I go purchase some more?”

Jesus turned to Judas and replied, “You are kind to offer, but you have not eaten yet. Take this bread to fill your stomach.”

Judas took the bread. “Thank you.”

“Do what you are about to do quickly,” Jesus said. “Time is running out.”

“I won’t be long,” Judas said, and he exited quickly.

Jesus turned back to the disciples, who looked disappointed.

Peter looked at Tom, who looked at John, who looked at Matthew and so on. All were confused and frustrated with anticipation. “Uh, Jesus,” Tom said, “What about the bread and betrayal? You were going hand it to the betrayer, but you just gave the bread to Judas…to eat…and he left!”

Jesus looked around the table. “It would appear that we are out of bread.”

“Judas went to get more bread?” John asked.

Jesus nodded.

“Well can’t we use a piece of fruit or chicken leg or something?”

Jesus smiled. “I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait on Judas.”

No one liked that answer, but what choice did they have? They returned to their previous conversations, which now included speculation as to who would be the betrayer of Jesus.

The rest of the night had gone by quickly and the morning had come even quicker, and still no sign of Judas. Tom wanted to take some of the disciples and search for Judas, but Jesus insisted Judas was fine and the group headed out early for the garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives, just east of Bethany and Jerusalem.

Jesus left the disciples in the garden, which was an olive grove lined with sweet smelling, bright red Crown Anemone. He said he needed to speak to his Father. The disciples carried on conversations like nothing had changed. But Tom could sense a change, as though an unseen force were squeezing his skull. He went for a walk to clear his mind.

After five minutes, Tom stopped and sat on a large rock and took a deep breath. He was constantly amazed at how clear the air was here. In Arizona, there wasn’t a lot in the way of air pollution, but on particularly windy days, they’d get blasted by smog from the L.A. basin. Here, the air was always clean.

“Have you noticed where you’re sitting?” David asked.

Startled by David’s sudden appearance, Tom almost fell off the rock backwards, but he quickly recovered. “On a rock.”

“What do you see in front of you, down the hill? Picture a thousand people all gazing up at you. Go back a few years.”

Tom looked around and his mind began recalling the events of the past. He hopped down from the rock and peered at it. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “This is where it all started.”

Tom walked a few feet away and turned toward the rock again. “I was standing here; you were on the rock… Seems like a lifetime ago.”

Tom walked to the rock and rubbed it with his hand like it was an old friend. “You might not believe it, but I don’t particularly miss the future. I have things here I never had there: a large group of friends, I’m seeing the world, learning. In the future we stopped learning, did you ever realize that? We were just working every day, putting into practice what we already knew. Here we learn something new every day.”

“You forgot something,” David added.

“Mary. I know. But I have to return to the future. What we’ve started…the time travel devices… Who else is going to take care of it? Make sure it isn’t abused?”

David raised his eyebrows with a humored expression, “I can’t think of anyone better than us.”

“Right,” Tom said. “We have to go back.”

After walking a few feet away, David turned and faced Tom. His face was sour.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked, curious as to the change in emotion.

David walked to the rock slowly and leaned against it. “You know how I told you how the past can’t be changed, because it’s already happened?” David asked.

“You’re not having doubts, are you? It’s a sound theory,” Tom said.

“No, I don’t have any doubts. I just wish it were wrong,” David explained.

Tom felt a sudden urgency, “Why? What’s going to happen?”

“It’s already happening.”

“What is?”

“Did you see Judas leave last night?” David asked, looking Tom in the eyes.

“Did something happen to him? Is he okay?”

“Did you see what he had in his hand?”

“Just a piece of bread that Jesus-” Tom’s muscles tensed. It couldn’t be…but the fact was undeniable. “Judas… He gave the bread to Judas! The exchange seemed so casual, it seemed Jesus had forgotten what the bread was meant for…but he didn’t, did he?”

“ARGHH!” A man’s voice cried out in anguish from the olive grove.

Tom jumped off the rock, ready for action.

David stood up straight. “It’s begun.”