secretly to counter him. His order for your arrest, for example, was simply a personal vendetta. All that the IDF needed to do in response to your
“Again”-Feldman wagged his head-”I don't understand. You resist Tamin and Goene in trying to help us, but you willingly participate in this cowardly murder.”
Feldman was amazed at the rapid deterioration in Lazzlo's demeanor. Like a deflating balloon, he shrunk in both stature and poise. “Please understand, Mr. Feldman, that I do now recognize the full weight of my actions. And while I understand I can never make atonement for what I've done, what there's left for me to do, I am doing.”
The reporter almost felt sorry for the commander.
“Please also understand,” Lazzlo attempted to explain, “that at the time, I truly believed our actions were in the best interests of Israel. I bore Jeza no personal malice. I merely thought her another of the countless deranged fanatics who have plagued this city for four millennia. Only this time, the fanatic happened to have a global following which threatened our nation, and perhaps our world.”
Feldman could no longer withhold his empathy, recognizing that in the past, he himself had harbored precisely the same fears. The newsman placed his good hand on the officer's shoulder. “If it's any consolation to you, Commander, I feel certain Jeza would forgive you. I think I knew her well enough to say that.”
This had a positive effect on Lazzlo, who searched the reporter's face carefully. “That means more to me, Mr. Feldman, than you can possibly know.” His composure returning, he gestured down the hallway. “But come, I have something else to show you that I trust you'll want to make public. Mr. Hunter, you'll need your camera.”
As they exited the room and headed back down the corridor to a side laboratory, Feldman had one last question he had to ask.
“What about those claims that Jeza was controlled by that neurotransmitter chip? Was someone communicating with her? Or exerting some sort of influence over her?”
“I'd like some satisfaction on that one, too,” Hunter added. “The way she sacrificed herself to that gunman yesterday. She walked to the front of that stage and just offered herself up, like she was under someone's sped or in a trance or-”
“I'm about to answer that question for you now,” Lazzlo replied.
They entered a glass-doored room and an elderly gentleman in a white lab coat stood to greet them.
“Gentlemen,” Lazzlo introduced them, “this is the head of forensic medicine here at Hadassah. Dr. Goldberg, could I trouble you please?”
As if he'd performed this duty several times before, the doctor moved spryly to a large screen on the wall, darkened the room and flipped a switch. Hunter turned on his camera to record the demonstration. Illuminated instantly on the screen was a transparent, multicolored image of a full-size human body, laid out horizontally on its side.
Feldman looked at the fascinating image, curious as to its relevance.
“Dr. Goldberg,” Lazzlo asked, “can you explain what we're looking at here?”
“Of course, Commander,” Goldberg responded and moved in front of them to the center of the screen. “Gentlemen, what you're viewing is an Enhanced Positron Emission Tomography of a human body. An E-PET scan, if you will.
“You'll notice that all internal organs of the body are completely visible.”
“We'll have to take your word on that one, Doctor.” Feldman made their lack of medical knowledge understood.
“Now,” the doctor began manipulating controls under the screen, “we're advancing to the cranial area, and I'm magnifying the image and rotating it so that you can see ad angles and aspects of the cerebellum. Can you see?”
Feldman and Hunter nodded dumbly, watching the revolving anatomy.
“Now, tell me,” the doctor said, like a professor leading a student, “what do you notice?”
The two newsmen studied the image for a moment, baffled. “I don't know, Doctor,” Feldman finally admitted. “Am I supposed to see something unusual?”
“No,” the doctor answered. “As a matter of fact, this is a completely normal brain in every way.” The doctor flipped another dial at the bottom of the screen and then stepped away to allow a clearer view.
Magically, the rotating skull started to change, to fill in, to add features, to become whole-a complete human head and face. A full-color, three-dimensional image of a beautiful young woman with tousled black hair and perfect, alabaster skin.
Feldman gasped as the enormous implications began to sweep over him. He said nothing, his eyes orbiting the peaceful, sleeping face. Finally, in the softest voice, he asked, “This-all of this-is Jeza?”
“Yes,” Lazzlo said, “down to the minutest detail. Even to the whorls of her fingerprints. This procedure was undertaken last evening as a preliminary to an autopsy.”
The doctor reversed the image sequence to expose, once again, the internal aspects of the cranium. “As you can see,” the doctor pointed out with a pen, “there are no internal microchips. No wires. No electrodes. No artificial anything. Simply a natural, normal, healthy human brain.”
“No,” Lazzlo corrected him. “Not exactly human.”
Hunter whispered to himself, “I'll be damned!”
Staggered, unable to take his eyes off the fantastic image, Feldman had to sit down.
The doctor continued his demonstration, scanning down the body to reveal the internal organs of the chest cavity. “You'll notice here,” he indicated with his pen, “a single, invasive trauma of the cardiac muscle …”
But Feldman was no longer paying attention. He was trembling inside. Aloud, to himself, he played out his thoughts. “Then Jeza
Feldman's mind reeled and he lapsed into virtual catatonia. He did not begin to recover until Lazzlo, who'd left the room momentarily, returned to thrust a sealed envelope in Feldman's hands.
“Here,” Lazzlo said. “Here's everything you'll need to indict the entire IDF command-Tamin, Goene, me, all of us. These are intelligence documents and internal memos exposing it all-the corruptions, the conspiracies, the cover-ups. And I've also included a full CD disc of the Messiah's E-PET scan for complete authentication of what you've just seen.
“Now I'm afraid it's time for you both to leave. Goene has called on his troops to take this hospital and rid Israel of a traitor. An advance of helicopters from the Negev base is due here any minute, and I can assure you, they'll stop at nothing to acquire Jeza's body.
“But of greater concern,” Lazzlo warned, “even larger numbers of anti-Jeza forces are approaching Jerusalem from the north. They've been met by our northern army division several miles outside the city and a bloody battle is underway as we speak. I don't expect General Zerim can hold than long, and certainly this hospital will be their next target.”
The dazed look in Feldman's eyes changed to one of sympathy for the doomed officer. “What are you going to do now, Commander?”
Lazzlo paused and calmly faced the reporter. “I'm going to stay here, Mr. Feldman,” he said evenly, “and defend my Messiah.”
Hunter placed a hand on the officer's back. “What's the point? That sounds like suicide. Why not evacuate and take Jeza's body with you in the helicopter? We can get asylum for you somewhere, I'm certain.”
“You don't understand,” Lazzlo replied, his face hardening. “You see, I-
“With all my heart I must believe that Jeza will rise tomorrow, here in Jerusalem, as scripture foretells. And I must also believe that I will be given the opportunity to kneel before Her and plead personally for Her forgiveness. Protecting the sacred temple of Her body is now the only hope my eternal soul has left.
