The Last Day

“Indeed, when you look at the pervasive deterioration that's occurred in the world as a result of her brief ministry, you see the dangerous cunning and true genius of Satan. And that's why it is clear, beyond any question, that the Second Coming is upon us. Circumstances are so hopelessly degenerated, there is only one person with the power and the glory to restore this earthly community to normality again. And that person is most certainly not Jeza!”

Feldman's eyes implored the camera for reason. “I cannot sit here and tell you that I know for certain whether Jeza is or is not sent from God as some new Messiah. In all my time and dealings with her, I still don't know the answer to that great question. But what I can tell you is what I firmly believe in my heart. And that is this: at the very worst, this little, isolated woman is not someone deserving of all the hatred and violence that's been stirred up around her. At the very worst, she's nothing more than a well-meaning, intelligent, tragically deluded human being. Not some sinister, diabolical creature, but a truly unique, extraordinary person-an innocent victim, robbed of her childhood, separated from her family, denied her humanity and her identity. Misguided and caught up in a charade that casts her in an impossible role. A tragic role with dire consequences for herself and for all mankind”-anger surged in his voice and he pointed accusingly at the cardinal beside him-“if you listen to this man!”

He consciously composed himself, appealing directly to the camera once again. “All I ask of any of you is one very reasonable and simple request: I ask only that you wait. That's all. Just wait. Do nothing. Take no actions, make no decisions, just wait. If God is indeed calling down His Judgment on us, it will all become very apparent soon enough. Without any man-made violence and bloodshed to obscure it.”

“It's apparent already!” di Concerci came storming back, his eyes flashing.

“It is not apparent!” a faltering, breathless voice from off camera vehemently insisted. “The Final Signs are not yet in evidence.”

Requiring the assistance of two WNN staff members, a deathly pale, afflicted but determined Rabbi Hirschberg made his way slowly to his chair. Feldman would have been relieved if it hadn't been for the rabbi's alarming appearance.

“Rabbi!” Feldman leaped to his elder's assistance.

“It's all right now,” Hirschberg asserted with a grimace, gingerly taking his seat and motioning Feldman back to his. “We have more important concerns at the moment.”

Feldman was not reassured, but hesitantly acceded to the rabbi's wishes. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced to his world audience, “may I introduce to you the distinguished biblical authority and spiritual leader of the Lubavitcher movement of Hasidic Jews, Rabbi Mordachai Hirschberg.”

If the prefect was surprised by this unannounced intruder, or if he felt more challenged by an adversary with worthy credentials, it didn't show. Di Concerci curtly nodded his acknowledgment of the rabbi, who warily returned the gesture.

Despite his apparent infirmity, it was obvious Hirschberg was not about to shrink from his mission. “I must tell you, Cardinal di Concerci,” he rasped between breaths, indignation replacing discomfort in his face, “in all candor, while I respect your pontiff and his office, I am appalled by what I've heard here tonight. I must concur with this young man's observations. There's no need to escalate the confrontation. Why can't you do as Mr. Feldman here suggests? Why can't you simply wait and let the predicted Final Signs of your Apocalypse manifest themselves before you condone this destructive course of action?”

Di Concerci allowed a dramatic pause, letting the cathedral subside to an absolute stillness before responding. “Because, my good rabbi,” he stated in an unwavering voice of conviction, “the Final Signs are in evidence.”

“Rubbish!” Hirschberg scoffed. “There are many critical signs not yet revealed. Where is the mark of the devil? You and your pope have rashly labeled Jeza the Antichrist, the handmaiden of Satan! Yet, I defy you, show me the devil's brand on Her! Your Book of Revelation calls for the mark of the beast to be clearly visible on the Antichrist. Where does Satan hide his accursed seal?”

Di Concerci leaned forward and narrowed his gaze at his defiant rival. “The mark of the beast is to be found precisely where the prophecy says. On the head of the Antichrist. If you look closely at video taken of Jeza at the Mount of the Beatitudes, you will notice, entirely visible under her hair, on her scalp, the burns left from Satan's fingertips where the Evil One ordained her. She's been claimed by the devil. She is the anointed Antichrist!”

The rabbi was stricken. “These are not the marks of Satan!” he gasped. “My God, man, what you speak of are simply the abrasions left on the poor lady from the electrodes She was forced to wear during Her cruel gestation! You twist things to your designs.”

“I twist nothing,” the cardinal maintained. “It is you who rationalizes.”

Hirschberg was not about to concede. “There are other, far more critical Final Signs you conveniently ignore,” the rabbi insisted. “You have yet to identify for us the signs for the battle of Armageddon! Your pope claims that we are on the eve of the Judgment. But where, I ask you, are the armies of Gog and Magog, the prophesied armies of Armageddon? Where are these signs?”

Di Concerci pursed his lips in constrained triumph. Turning to the camera, he reached for a blank tablet of white paper on the coffee table in front of him. “May I bring to the attention of my esteemed colleague,” he said, printing an unseen word on the pad with a large-nib marking pen, “a rather conspicuous observation which has apparently gone unnoticed by him?”

The rabbi spread his hands out in front of him and arched his eyebrows questioningly.

“Rabbi,” di Concerci said, “you've just made reference to the apocalyptic armies of Gog and Magog?”

“Yes,” the rabbi confirmed, disdainfully. “These are two important signs of Armageddon still left to be revealed. In the prophecy of the Old Testament, Ezekiel 38 and 39: Gog is the ruler from the land of Magog who will attack Israel in the battle of Armageddon and who will be met with destruction. Likewise, the names Gog and Magog appear again in your Book of Revelation, chapter twenty, verse eight. This time representative of two separate entities of Satan, the two wicked armies of the Antichrist.”

Di Concerci gleamed with his certitude. “Is it lost on you, Rabbi,” he asked, pointedly, “that the names of the two major factions currently opposing each other over the issue of Jeza's divinity are known as the Guardians of God and the Messianic Guardians of God, respectively?”

Hirschberg fell back in his chair as if a thunderbolt had struck him.

The prefect continued with the now obvious. “When broken into their separate acronyms,” he said with self- satisfaction, turning his pad of paper so that both Hirschberg and the camera could see the two phrases he had written, “the Guardians Of God and the Messianic Guardians Of God reveal the two apocalyptic names of the Book of Revelation, G-O-G and M-E-G-O-G-or Magog, if you will.

“These are the armies prophesied to descend upon Jerusalem from the north, from the ancient mountains of the city of Megiddo, Israel.” He wrote again on the tablet. “In Hebrew, ‘H-A-R’ means ‘mountain.’ Therefore, you have ‘Har Megiddo,’ or ‘h-A-R-M-E-G-I-D-D-O-n.’ That is, ‘Armageddon’ as we all now know it.”

Hirschberg slumped in his seat. Feldman's knuckles were white as he gripped his armrests.

“And now,” di Concerci said, turning sideways to face Feldman full on, “let me call your attention to another bit of conveniently ignored information of which you should also be aware. As you now know, your Jeza carries within her brain a number of sophisticated neuromicrochips which provide her with a variety of spectacular functions.

“Let me remind you that one of these chips-and I have personally studied the descriptions recorded in the Leveque diaries-one of these chips happens to be a very advanced communications transmitter-receiver.

“As explained by Jozef Leveque, this unique microchip is powered by the normal electrochemical currents of the brain, and was designed to both transmit and receive messages in a form of silent telepathy.”

The cardinal waited for these facts to sink in. “I submit to you that all your prophetess need do is cock her head in the proper direction and she can send out or tune in messages on any radio or microwave frequency; send and receive messages via satellite; enter and peruse any computer database she chooses, anytime she desires, for any information she wishes. The world's entire computer network is her brain, Mr. Feldman. Jeza can access any intelligence, all of mankind's collective knowledge, whenever she wants, merely by thinking.