Master of the World
Two months later – New York
Former Assistant Secretary-General Robert Milner and Namibian Ambassador Thomas Sabudu paused briefly to be sure everything was in order before stepping onto the elevator. When they reached the British Mission on the 28th floor they were warmly greeted by Jackie Hansen and shown into Hansen's inner office.
"Good afternoon, Bob; Ambassador Sabudu," Hansen said as he left his desk to show his guests to the sitting area in his office. "How have you been, Bob?" Hansen asked.
"Not bad for an old man," answered Milner.
"For an 'old man' you certainly haven't slowed down at all. I think I see you around the U.N. more now than when you actually worked there."
Milner laughed. "Well, now that I don't have to be there, it's a lot more fun."
"So, are you just operating out of your briefcase now?" Hansen asked.
"Oh, no," Milner answered. "Alice Bernley let me set up shop in a spare room down at the Lucius Trust." Jackie brought in tea and scones and the three men sat down to business.
"So, what can I do for you?" Hansen asked, looking alternately at Sabudu and Milner.
"Jon we're here – Ambassador Sabudu officially, and me unofficially – on behalf of certain members of the Group of 77," Milner began, referring to the caucus of Third World countries which had originally consisted of seventy seven countries but which had since grown to include more than one hundred and fifty nations.
"We have come," said Ambassador Sabudu, "because on two previous occasions you have addressed the General Assembly on the subject of reorganizing the U.N. Security Council."
"Yes," Hansen recalled, "once just recently. But I'm sure you understand that on both of those occasions my intent was to dramatize the seriousness of another point. Most recently, it was just after the Russian invasion of Israel and my motion to reorganize the Security Council was to make the point that Russia could not just start invading other countries and assume the United Nations would do nothing about it. It was never my intent that the motion would pass. If Russia had been removed from the Security Council, I think it's a pretty safe bet they'd have dropped out of the U.N. altogether and we'd have lost the opportunities the U.N. provides to settle disputes diplomatically. So, as I said, my motion was simply to make the point, not to actually change the Security Council."
"Yes, of course," Sabudu responded.
"Jon," interjected Milner, "we'd like for you to bring it up again; this time in earnest."
Hansen sat back in his chair.
"Ambassador Hansen," Sabudu began.
"Please, call me Jon."
"All right then, Jon. As you know, many things have changed in the two months since the nuclear devastation of Russia. Many of us in the Group of 77 believe that it is now time for the U.N. to change as well." In truth, the Third World countries had been wanting to change the Security Council since they began to make up the majority of members in the U.N. "It is totally unreasonable," Sabudu continued, "that five nations should exercise such dominance over the United Nations as do the five permanent members of the Security Council." Sabudu's voice was spiced with the conviction of his message.
"Let me assure you, Thomas," Hansen said, taking the liberty to call Sabudu by his first name, "even though my country is one of those five you refer to, I personally share that view."
"Jon," said Milner, "Thomas and I have polled most of the members of the Group of 77 and a great many of them, one hundred and seven at this point, have committed their support to such a motion. Another thirty-two are leaning strongly in our direction.
Hansen raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised at the level of support for the proposition. "But why have you decided that I should be the one to make the proposal?"
"Three reasons," answered Milner. "First, as Thomas said, you've made the motion before. Second, you're very well respected by all the members, especially the Third World countries. And third, because we feel it's absolutely imperative that the motion be made by the Delegate of one of the permanent members of the Security Council. Some members I've talked to have told me that because of the devastation of the Russian Federation, they think that some sort of restructuring will probably occur in the next four or five years, anyway. They're just not sure they want to be involved in rocking the boat to make it happen now. That's why it's so important that one of the permanent members of the Security Council make the motion. Quite frankly, they want someone bigger than them to pin it on if the motion fails. If Britain makes the motion, I believe we can pull all or most of the votes from the third world countries that are leaning our way. With that, we'll be within a dozen votes of the two-thirds majority needed for passage."
"I don't know, Bob," Hansen interrupted, "I have no idea how my government will feel about such a motion. It was one thing for me to make a motion when it had no chance in hell of passing, but it's quite another if it might actually come about. I don't even know how I'd be instructed to vote on such a measure."
"How do you feel about it, personally?" Milner asked.
"As I said, I agree it's unreasonable that five countries should exercise dominance over the U.N., but on the other hand, I'm not sure I know of a better way to run the U.N. and still accomplish as much as we do." Hansen thought for a moment. "Hell – off the record – if we could come up with a more equitable approach and it wouldn't bog down the system for lack of direction and leadership, I guess I'd be for it."
"Would you be willing to work with us to develop such an approach, perhaps based on some regional plan?" asked Sabudu. "And if we are able to come up with something you're comfortable with, would you present it to your government for consideration?"
Hansen nodded and then said, "I'll do what I can. But it's possible that even if we can come up with a workable plan and I can persuade my government to support it, I may not be allowed to actually make the motion if it is felt that by doing so we would anger the other permanent members. Is there any possibility that one of the other permanent members would make the motion?"
"We don't think so," said Milner.
"I see."
Milner opened his briefcase to retrieve a document. "To get the ball rolling on this," he said, "I've brought along a proposal on restructuring the Security Council based on regional entities. We may want to use it as a point of departure, at least, in developing a final plan."
Hansen glanced at the document and put it on the table beside him.
"What Secretary Milner has said about your personal sway with the Third World members was not just flattery, Mr. Ambassador," said Sabudu, becoming more formal to make his point.
"Thank you, Mr. Ambassador," Hansen responded, in-kind.
"Jon," Milner said, "there is one other item which we need to talk about, and I think it may just soften the blow to your government of losing its permanent place on the Council. As you know, in order to ensure impartiality, the Secretary-General has always been selected from among the members of the U.N. who have no ties to any of the permanent members of the Security Council. For years that has served as a major counterweight to the power of the five permanent members on the Security Council. But if the Security Council were reorganized on some other basis, there would be no reason for continuing that requirement. There would be no defensible reason that the Secretary-General shouldn't be from, say, Britain, or the U.S., or any of the other former permanent members of the Council.
"Jon, the Secretary-General has already indicated his intention to retire at the end of this session. If you are the one to make the motion and we can get the votes we need for passage, we believe that you would be the obvious candidate to take his place."
Jon Hansen took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.
Li the outside office Jackie Hansen was working at her computer when she looked up to see Christopher Goodman coming in the door. "Hi, Christopher," she said. "How was school?"
"Okay," he answered. "Is Mr. Hawthorne here?"
"He's out right now but I expect him back shortly. If you want, you can wait in his office."
"No, that's okay," he said. "I just wanted to let him know that I'd be a little late this evening. I'm going to the seminar and exhibit that the Saudi government is sponsoring. Would you tell him for me?"
"Sure, Christopher," Jackie answered. "You seem to stay pretty busy going to all those exhibits."
"Yeah, it's great. There's a different seminar or exhibit or program to go to every couple of weeks. And some of the exhibits can take days to go through."
"I envy you," she said. "I wish I had the time to take advantage of all the educational programs the U.N. has to offer."
Jackie saw the Ambassador's door start to open and put her finger to her lips to indicate that they'd have to continue the conversation in a few minutes, after Ambassador Hansen's guests left.
Christopher picked up a magazine to keep busy until he and Jackie could continue their conversation, but before he could start reading, he heard someone call his name. He looked up to see Assistant Secretary-General Milner standing next to Ambassador Hansen, looking straight at him.
"Oh, hello, Secretary Milner," Christopher answered.
"You two know each other?" Hansen asked Milner.
"Yes," Milner answered. "We've bumped into each other on several occasions at some of the exhibits, but we weren't formally introduced until a few days ago when I spoke at Christopher's high school about my 'World Curriculum' project and the goals of the United Nations. He's quite a good student, his teacher tells me. It wouldn't surprise me at all if Christopher went to work for the U.N. himself someday," concluded Milner, who then turned his full attention back to Hansen and Sabudu.
"As soon as you've had a chance to review the draft document I gave you and to come up with recommendations on how to improve it, please call me and we'll get back together," Milner told Hansen. "I'll do that," answered Hansen.
With that the men shook hands and Milner and Sabudu left. Afterward Hansen told Jackie to inform the senior staff that there would be a 4:30 meeting and they'd all be working a little late.
"Well," Jackie told Christopher, as soon as Ambassador Hansen closed the door to his office, "it looks like you'll have plenty of time at the Saudi exhibit. "I'll give Decker the message for you."
"Thanks," said Christopher, as he headed for the door. Before he reached it, though, it opened again. It was Milner.
"Christopher, will you be at the Saudi exhibit this evening?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. I'm going there now."
"Good, I'll see you there. They have a really wonderful presentation on Islam, including some exquisite models of the mosques in Mecca and Medina."
Six weeks later – Tel Aviv, Israel
Tom Donafin dabbed his finger across the bristles of his toothbrush to see if he had applied enough toothpaste. Satisfied that he had, he replaced the tube in its assigned spot on the counter by the sink. He had now been blind for about six months and was learning to live with it. Fortunately, he had always preferred wearing a beard so he didn't have to worry about shaving. When he took an apartment on the same floor in her building, Rhoda helped him set up his closet and drawers so that he could pick out matching clothes to wear.
He thought it might still be a little early, but as soon as he was dressed he locked up and walked down the hall toward Rhoda's apartment. Feeling his way with his long white cane, he reached the end of the hall, turned and counted his steps to her front door. He had done this many times by himself, and there was really no possibility he would go to the wrong door. Still, he had suggested to Rhoda that they carve a heart and their initials into her door so he could always be sure he had the right apartment. Rhoda had thought better of the idea.
Tom knocked at the door and was greeted a moment later with a very warm kiss, which he gladly returned. "You're early," Rhoda said. "Come on in. I was just about to change."
"Should I cover my eyes?" Tom joked.
"It's not your eyes I'm concerned about; it's the pictures in your mind. You just wait here. I'll be back in a minute." In the past Tom had always avoided any real involvement with a woman because he feared rejection because of his disfigurement. Strangely, now that he couldn't see, it was no longer a problem.
Torn made his way to the couch and sat down. On the coffee table Rhoda kept a book for beginning Braille students. He picked it up, intending to get in a little practice, but noticed a single sheet of paper sitting on top. Running his fingers over the formations of bumps one at a time, he determined the characters on the page. "I love you," it said.
Tom didn't mention the note to Rhoda when she came from her bedroom.
"All ready," she said.
Tom got up and walked toward the door. Rhoda met him halfway and placed his hand in the now familiar spot on her arm. "Rabbi won't know what to think when we get to Havdalah early," she said.
"That won't be his only surprise tonight," Tom added, and though he couldn't see it, he was confident that there was a smile on Rhoda's face.
After dinner at Rabbi Cohen's house, everyone moved to the living room. Benjamin Cohen, who alone with his father was the only member of the rabbi's family to survive the Disaster, turned off the lights as his father prayed and lit the three wicks of the tall blue and white braided Havdalah candle. The Havdalah or 'separation' marked the end of the Sabbath and the beginning of the work week – the distinction of the holy from the secular. Along with the Cohens and Tom and Rhoda there were nine others present. Originally there had been many more in Cohen's congregation but the Disaster had reduced their number by over a hundred and fifty. Now they could fit easily into Cohen's living room. Of those present, some, like Rhoda, had started attending Cohen's services only a few weeks or months before the Disaster. Others had joined the group afterward.
As the flame grew, Saul Cohen took the candle and held it up. In accordance with tradition, those in the circle responded by standing and holding their hands up toward the light with their fingers cupped. Though he could not see the flame, Tom could feel the heat of the large candle and he did as Rhoda had taught him. It meant nothing to him beyond simply being a tradition, but it was important to Rhoda and so he did it.
As they had planned, after the Havdalah, Tom and Rhoda waited for everyone to leave so they could talk with Rabbi Cohen alone.
"Tell me, Tom," Cohen asked, "how did my favorite skeptic like tonight's message?"
"Well," Tom said, "I understood what you were saying but don't you think it's kind of narrow-minded to say that there's only one way for a person to get into the kingdom of God?"
"It would be, Tom, "Cohen answered, "were it not for the fact that the one way that God offers is entirely unrestricted, completely free, and totally accessible to each and every person on the planet. God is no farther from any of us than our willingness to call upon him. Would it be narrow-minded to say that there is only one thing that everyone must breathe in order to live?"
"But air is available to everyone," Tom countered.
"Tom, so is God. The Bible says in the book of Romans that God has made himself known to everyone. It doesn't matter whether you're Jew or Gentile, Hindu or Buddhist, Muslim or pagan. It's up to each person as an individual whether he will answer God's call. And Tom, one of the great things about it is that once you've answered that call you'll find that it's absolutely the most natural thing in the world: even," Cohen laughed at his own unexpected turn of phrase, "more natural than breathing."
The subject was worthy of further discussion but right now Tom had something else on his mind. As a transitional step from this discussion to what he really wanted to talk about, Tom decided to ask the rabbi something he had wondered about for a while. "Rabbi," he said, "there's something I don't understand: if you no longer believe as the other Hasidim believe, why do you still wear the attire and earlocks of Hasidim?" Rhoda looked away in embarrassment; she would never have asked the question herself but it was something she had often wondered about. She felt sure the rabbi would know she had mentioned it to Tom. After all, how else could Tom know what the rabbi wore?
"It is my heritage," Cohen answered. "Even the Apostle Paul, who Messiah charged with bringing the word to the gentiles, did not change his ways, except as it was necessary to accomplish his mission. Besides," added Cohen, "there are many years of wear left in these clothes. Why should I buy new?"
Cohen smiled, but Tom, who could only assume that Cohen was serious, had to bite his lip to hold back laughter.
"So, what is it I can do for you?" asked Cohen, assuming correctly that Tom and Rhoda had not stayed late just to ask him about his wardrobe.
"Well," said Tom, glad for the opportunity to get to the subject he wanted to talk about, "Rhoda and I would like for you to officiate at our wedding."
Cohen didn't respond.
"Is something the matter, Rabbi?" Rhoda asked.
Cohen hesitated. "I'm sorry. Rhoda, could I speak with you alone for just a moment?"
Cohen began to move away, and Rhoda automatically followed before Tom could even think to object. In a moment so brief he couldn't speak, they were gone and Tom heard one of the interior doors of the house close behind them.
"Rhoda," Cohen said, as soon as he was alone with her, "do you remember what I told you when I brought Tom to you?"
"You mean the prophecy?" she asked.
"Yes."
"How could I forget it? I've thought about it every day."
"Then you know that this will not be an easy marriage. You may have several years of peace – I don't know exactly how many – but then you will lose him. The prophecy is clear: 'he must bring death and die that the end and the beginning may come.'"
"I know and I understand," Rhoda answered.
"And you still want to go ahead with the marriage?" Cohen's voice showed concern but gave no hint of disapproval.
"Yes, Rabbi. More than anything."
Cohen gave her a look of caution concerning her last statement.
Rhoda saw the look and quickly corrected herself: "I mean, more than anything, as long as it is within God's will."
Cohen let it pass. "All right, then. Just as long as you're going into this with your eyes wide open."
"I am, Rabbi," Rhoda assured him.
"There is, of course, the issue of being yoked to an unbeliever, but with Tom, I have always known it was just a matter of time. We shall have to see to that immediately, and by all means before the wedding takes place."
Rhoda willingly agreed.
"Oh, by the way," Cohen asked as an afterthought, "have you told Tom about the prophecy?"
"No, Rabbi. I didn't think I should."
Cohen nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, it's probably best that you don't. Better to let God act in his own time, and not put any ideas in Tom's head."
Cohen and Rhoda went back to where Tom was waiting for them. "Well, Tom," Cohen began, by way of explanation, "your Rhoda assures me that she's going into this with her eyes open."
Tom knew how much stock Rhoda put in Cohen's opinions but he didn't much care for being talked about when he wasn't around to defend himself, and he wasn't at all sure he liked the scrutiny Cohen had apparently placed on their plans. Nonetheless, he decided to hold his tongue. He would soon be glad he did.
"Speaking of going into things with your eyes open," Cohen said, "Tom, I have a wedding gift for you. Actually, it's not from me. I was told to give you this when I first found you under the rubble. The exact timing was left up to me, and, I guess this seems like as good a time as any." Cohen came close to Tom, reached out his hand, and placed it over Tom's eyes. "Not through any power of my own," Cohen said, before Tom could even figure out what was going on, "but in the name, and through the power of Messiah Yeshua: open your eyes and see."
Two weeks later – New York
British Ambassador Jon Hansen was widely applauded as he approached the speaker's dais at the United Nations General Assembly. His speech would be translated simultaneously into Arabic, Chinese, French, Russian and Spanish, which together with English are the six official languages of the United Nations. Twice before Hansen had spoken on the subject of reorganizing the U.N. Security Council, but this time there was no doubt that the plea would be made in earnest.
Over the preceding three weeks Decker had spent countless hours working on this speech: writing drafts, condensing, expanding, adding, deleting, polishing, and working with linguists to ensure that the words spoken in English would have the proper impact when translated into the other official languages. What Hansen was about to propose would involve a major restructuring of the United Nations; his words would have to be both clearly understood and thoroughly compelling.
The message of Hansen's address was not unexpected. The press was out in force to cover the address and the seconding speeches. There was still no guarantee of getting the two-thirds vote necessary to carry the motion; too many nations would not make a commitment before the actual vote.
What made it possible now that Hansen's motion might actually pass, when before it had not been taken seriously, were the recent events in Russia. The nuclear holocaust had reduced the Russian Federation to a mere specter. Even the name was threatened as survivors in one federated region after another emerged from the rubble and declared themselves independent republics – much as had happened when the Russian Federation's predecessor, the U.S.S.R., fell apart decades before. Those were the lucky ones; in some parts of Russia there were not enough survivors to even worry about things political.
The world had been a much different place on October 24, 1945, when the United Nations officially came into being. The Second World War had just ended, and the victors – the United States, Great Britain, France, the Soviet Union, and China – made up the major powers of the world and so had established themselves as the "Big Five," giving themselves permanent member status and veto power in the United Nations Security Council. Since that time Britain had divested herself of her colonies and though influential, remained great only in name. She would trade her power on the Security Council for temporary control of the Secretariat under Hansen and the opportunity to direct the U.N.'s reorganization. "It is better to trade away now what might well be taken tomorrow," Hansen had told the British Parliament. Britain knew that the evolution of the U.N. was unstoppable. Guiding that evolution was a responsibility for which Britain felt itself uniquely qualified.
France, never truly an economic world power after World War II and ever the libertine, had turned to neo-isolationism and so had voluntarily surrendered her position as a world leader. She would not, however, so willingly surrender her power. Even as Hansen spoke, France lobbied other members to vote against the measure. China was an anomaly. Despite being one of the poorest countries, it remained a world power, if only because of its military strength and its enormous population. Because of its size, China alone of the five original Security Council members would be guaranteed a seat on the reorganized Council. Nonetheless, China would oppose the measure because its power would be diluted by half in the proposed ten member council. Her great size would make little difference in the General Assembly. Concessions made two years earlier had removed veto power of the Big Five over amending the U.N. Charter. China, like the tiniest of countries, would have only one vote. The Russian Federation, though it would protest loudly, certainly no longer had legitimate claim to permanent status on the Security Council or to veto power over its actions.
Only the United States could truly claim a right to permanent status based on its position as a world power. Yet in a very real sense, this proposal might be seen as a logical next step toward the 'New World Order' first proposed by former U.S. President George Bush, and it appeared to have the support of, if not a majority, then at least a large and vocal minority of American citizens as well as a majority of those in Congress. The U.S. would not stand in the way of reorganization if that is what the members of the United Nations wanted.
Hansen's proposal would eliminate the permanent positions of the 'Big Five' and instead structure a newly defined Security Council around representatives of each often major regions of the world. The details would have to be worked out by all member nations, but it was expected that these regions would include North America; South America; Europe and Iceland; Eastern Africa; Western Africa; the Middle East; the Indian subcontinent; Northern Asia; China; and the nations of Asia's Pacific basin from Japan and Korea, down to New Guinea, along with Australia, and New Zealand. Each region would have one voting member and one alternate member on the Security Council.
As he stood before the great assembly of nations, about to give the most important speech of his life, Hansen was running on adrenalin. He had spent night and day for the past several weeks lobbying for approval. Now was the moment for show business, but immediately afterward the lobbying and arm twisting would continue anew. Hansen came to the speaker's lectern and began.
"My fellow Delegates and citizens of the world: I come to you today as the Ambassador of an empire now divested of all her colonies. I say that not with regret; but with pride. Pride that over time we have grown to recognize the rights of sovereign peoples to set their own course in the history of the earth. Pride that my beloved Britain, though she will bear a great cost at its passage, has placed justice ahead of power and has authorized the introduction and the support of this motion.
"For more than sixty years since the foundation of this august body, five countries, Great Britain among them, have held sway over the other nations of the world. Today the history of nations has come to a new path.
"A new path – not a destination; for there is no stopping.
"A new path – not to a crossroads; for in truth there is no other way that just and reasonable men and women may choose.
"A new path – not a detour; for the path we were on has taken us as far as it will go.
"A new path – not a dead-end; for there can be no going back.
"It is the most tragic of situations that has brought us so abruptly to this point in history, and yet, were it not so we would have reached it still. From the first days of the United Nations, it has always been the visionaries' dream that one day all nations would stand as equals in this body. We have come too far toward that dream to refuse now to continue the advance toward its fulfillment.
The time has come for all peoples of the world to put off the shackles of the past. The day of the empire is gone, and just as certainly the day of subservience to those bom of power must also come to an end. Justice is not found in the rule of those who consider themselves our betters, but from the common will of peers. The greatness of nations comes not from the superiority of their armaments, but from their willingness to allow and aid the greatness of others."
Decker listened closely, anticipating the pauses and hoping for the applause he expected each line would draw. Although at the U.N. the timing of applause can sometimes be embarrassingly delayed by the translation to another language, Decker was not disappointed. Clearly the motion would do well.
In the end, the vote turned, as history so often does, on an ironic twist of fate. Sixty years before, the Soviet Union had insisted that two of her states, the Byelorussian S.S.R. and the Ukrainian S.S.R., be granted admission to the General Assembly with the full rights of sovereign nations. At the time it had been a way for the U.S.S.R. to gain two extra votes in the General Assembly. Today the independent Ukraine cast the deciding vote to expropriate Russia's seat on the Security Council. The motion passed.
One week later
The vote to reorganize the Security Council did not mark the completion of the effort, but only the beginning of a new phase. Now that the motion had carried, the press from around the world were calling, wanting information about this man who likely would become the new Secretary-General. Decker brought in extra personnel to support the more routine functions of the effort, but he was wary of delegating too much. As he went over a press release for the third time, he realized he had no idea what he was reading. He was just too tired. Closing his eyes, he slumped down in the chair and thought back to his days at the Knoxville Enterprise. It had been a long time since he had worked this hard.
Unnoticed, Jackie Hansen had entered the room and was now standing directly behind his chair. As he sat with his eyes closed, she reached down and placed her long slender fingers on his shoulders. Decker jumped but seeing Jackie's smiling face, relaxed as she began to massage his tired, knotted muscles. "Oh, that feels good," he said gratefully. "I'll give you just twenty minutes to stop it." It was an old joke but Jackie laughed anyway.
"Your back is one solid knot," Jackie said, sympathetically. "I'll bet you're tired."
Decker started to nod his head but decided it might interrupt the massage and instead answered, "uh huh."
"My father really appreciates all the work you're doing. He told me you were working so hard that sometimes he wasn't sure which of you was trying to get elected." Decker appreciated the compliment. It was nice to know his work was appropriately acknowledged. He smiled up at Jackie, then closed his eyes again to concentrate on the relaxing feel of her hands. Suddenly she stopped. "You know what you need to really relax?" she asked, rhetorically.
"What's that?" Decker responded.
"Well, whenever I get real tense, I meditate." Jackie started to rub his shoulders again. "I may seem pretty relaxed to you most of the time, but I used to be a jumble of nerves. When I first started to work here I was so concerned about doing a good job. I didn't want people thinking that the only reason I had the job was because my father was the ambassador." Jackie found a knot and began rubbing in circles to work it out. "That's when I met Lorraine from the French Mission. She invited me to a go to a meditation class at the Lucius Trust." Jackie stopped again and looked at her watch. "Oh, my gosh," she said in surprise, "speaking of the Lucius Trust: it's 7:55. If I don't hurry I'm going to be late. I've missed the last three weeks because of work; I really don't want to miss tonight."
"Miss what?" asked Decker.
"My meditation class," Jackie answered. "It meets at the Lucius Trust every Wednesday. Tonight Alice Bernley, the director of the Trust, is going to show new members how to reach their inner consciousness, the source of creativity. It's like an inner guide."
"Oh," Decker said, making no attempt to hide the fact that he had no idea what Jackie was talking about.
"Come with me."
"Uh… I don't know, Jackie. I'm not really into this New Age stuff. I'm pretty square, I guess."
"Oh, come on," she insisted, as she took his hand and gave it a tug. "Really, I think you'll enjoy it. When you leave there tonight you'll be more relaxed than you've been in weeks. I find it helps me reach a higher plane of thinking. It frees my creative mental processes."
Decker sighed. "Well, I guess I could use some of that, but we'll just have to be a little late. I refuse to run."
The class had already started when they arrived. Quietly Jackie moved through the crowd of about a hundred and fifty people, pulling Decker along, until they reached two empty chairs. Around them people sat silently with eyes closed, some with their legs crossed, all listening intently to the speaker. They seemed totally unaware that others were around them. Even in the subdued light, Decker recognized nearly two dozen of the attendees as U.N. Delegates. The speaker was Alice Bernley, an attractive woman in her late forties with long flowing red hair. "Just sit down, close your eyes, and listen," Jackie whispered.
It was easy enough to relax in the deep comfortable chairs. Decker listened to the speaker and tried to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. "In the blackness ahead of you," Bernley was saying, "is a small point of light just coming into view. As you walk closer to the light, you are beginning to narrow the distance, and the light is growing brighter and warmer." Decker became aware of a soft, barely audible hum, almost like a cat's purr, coming from those around him. As he closed his eyes, to his amazement, he too, saw a light. It was very distant, but it was clearly visible. He wondered at the sight, and in his mind it did seem as if the light was getting closer, or possibly he was getting closer to it. He was certain it was all just a mental picture painted by the woman, but he was surprised at how open he was to her suggestion. It must be from lack of sleep, he thought briefly. The woman's delicate voice seemed to softly caress his ears. "Approach the light," the woman continued, and Decker did. "Soon you will find that it has led you to a beautiful place: a garden." In his mind Decker followed her words and soon he saw it.
Bernley went on at some length describing every detail of the garden. It was so clear, so real and precisely described that later, as Decker looked back to this event and thought of all the others in the room, his greatest wonder – though logically he knew better – was that so many could be sharing the same vision so clearly and yet each was totally alone, each in his own garden. Even in his memory the place seemed so real that he expected to see others from the room there with him.
"Just beyond the shining pool of water you see someone approaching." Decker looked but saw no one. "It may be a person," Bernley continued, "but for many people it will be an animal; perhaps a bird or a rabbit, or perhaps a horse or even a unicorn. What form it takes is unimportant. Do not be afraid; even if it is a lion. It will not hurt you. It is there to help you; to guide you when you have questions." Still, Decker saw no one. "When it has come close enough, talk to it, ask it anything you would like to know, and it will answer. You might start by asking its name. As some of you know, my spirit guide is a Tibetan Master who goes by the name Dj'wlij Kajm. For some, your spirit guide may be a bit more shy. You may have to coax it out; not by speaking to it, but by listening. So listen. Listen very closely." Decker listened. He moved closer to the pool, trying to hear. Bernley's voice had fallen silent, apparently to allow those with 'shy' spirit guides to listen more closely. Still, he saw and heard nothing.
It was not that there was nothing there. If they had spoken any louder, he surely would have heard. "Why does no one approach him?" one of the voices whispered. "The Master forbids it," another voice answered. "He has special plans for this one."
Bernley remained silent for another eight or ten minutes. For a while, Decker continued to try to hear or see the guide Bernley said he would find, but when she spoke again he opened his eyes and realized that he had fallen asleep. "Now say farewell to your new friend but thank him, and let him know you'll return soon." Decker watched the others in the group as Bernley brought them back from this expedition of the mind. In a moment everyone opened their eyes and looked around. Everyone was smiling. Some hugged those around them. A few wept openly. Decker looked over at Jackie Hansen, who seemed to be nearly floating. From a corner of the room someone began to applaud and soon the whole room was filled with applause. "Thank you, thank you," Bernley said graciously, "but you really should be applauding yourselves for having the courage to open your minds to the unknown. Now, whenever you need guidance on something that you just don't know how to handle, all you have to do is go to a quiet place for a few moments, close your eyes, and open your mind. Seek out your guide at every opportunity and ask it the questions which you can't answer. What you are doing is allowing the creative nature that is within all of us to do what it most wants to do: provide visionary solutions to the problems in your life."
Some of Bernley's assistants brought in refreshments and everyone began to talk together in small groups about what they had experienced. Decker politely thanked Jackie for the invitation and told her that he had found the experience interesting, but said he really needed to get back to work. She seemed surprised that he was leaving but did not try to stop him.
As soon as Decker left, Alice Bernley called to Jackie, who quickly made her way across the room. Without speaking, Bernley took Jackie's arm and led her to a quiet corner where they would not be overheard. "Was that Decker Hawthorne with you?" Bernley asked, sounding a little concerned.
"Yes," Jackie answered. "I asked him if he'd like to sit in on the class. Did I do the wrong thing?"
"No. It's okay. Actually, it was my fault. I should have told you: The Tibetan has made it very clear that Decker Hawthorne is not to be a part of the Trust. The Master has special plans for Mr. Hawthorne."
New York, the Israeli Mission
As Jon Hansen was shown into the office, Ambassador Hartzog sat at his desk, talking on the phone. It was an obvious snub for the Israeli Ambassador not to greet him and Hansen recognized that this was not a positive sign. As Hansen waited he couldn't help but overhear Hartzog's conversation, which didn't sound like very important business. This made the snub all the worse; if he had been talking to his wife, Hansen would have written this off, but to be talking business on the phone with some bureaucrat while a guest Ambassador waited was inexcusable. What made it even worse was that undoubtedly Hartzog realized that Hansen was not only a fellow Delegate; he most probably would be the next Secretary-General.
Nearly three minutes later the Israeli Ambassador finally hung up the phone and joined Hansen. He made no apology for the delay and immediately began by calling Hansen by his first name, even though the two had never been formally introduced – the Israeli Ambassador having just been assigned to the U.N. What a cheeky ass, thought Hansen.
"So, Jon, what have you come to offer us?"
Hansen held his temper like a true Englishman. "Reason, Mr. Ambassador. Reason."
"You have brought me a reason that Israel should cut her own throat?" Hartzog asked, mockingly.
"No. I have… "
Ambassador Hartzog cut off Hansen before he could even begin. "Ambassador Hansen," he said, now becoming formal, "my government considers the decision by the General Assembly to reorganize the Security Council along regional lines a noble gesture. It is, unfortunately, one with which we cannot abide. Did it not cross your mind that by restructuring the Security Council on a regional basis and then grouping Israel with the other nations of the Middle East, you would force us into a position where we would constantly be at the mercy of our Arab neighbors? In case you were not aware, Israel has a Jewish population of four million. We are surrounded by twenty-three Arab nations with a total population of two hundred and thirty-five million. Now, tell me, just what do you think Israel's chances are of having a representative on the Security Council who is favorable to our country?" Hartzog paused and then added, "Most of those bastards still haven't acknowledged that Israel even exists!"
"But leaving the U.N. is not the answer, Mr. Ambassador," Hansen said, finally getting a word in.
"Unless you can make some guarantees… perhaps by increasing the number of seats on the Security Council to eleven and guaranteeing that seat to Israel… " Hartzog paused for Hansen's reaction. He was certain Hansen would never agree to such a proposal, but as Hartzog saw it, he had nothing to lose.
"You know we can't do that," Hansen responded. "It would destroy the whole restructuring. There's no way we can make that kind of an exception for Israel without setting the precedent for others wanting the same exception for themselves." Hansen didn't mention it but there was another precedent he didn't want to set: that of having a nation leave the U.N. It had never been done before.
"Then there seems little choice," Hartzog concluded.
"Mr. Ambassador, if Israel leaves the U.N., you will be giving in to the very countries you fear. They'd like nothing more than to see Israel out of the United Nations."
"Unfortunately you are correct. But neither can we stay."
The conversation did not improve and Hansen left without having gained an inch of ground. When he returned to his office he was met by Decker Hawthorne. "How'd it go?" Decker asked.
"Not well," Hansen answered in understatement. "Israel is just too damn cheeky about what happened with the Russian Federation."
"But they've acknowledged that their strategic defense had nothing to do with the premature detonation of the Soviet Missiles, so what do they have to be so arrogant about?" Decker really wanted to say 'cheeky' too, instead of 'arrogant,' but he didn't think he could say it without sounding as though he was poking fun.
"The official position of the Knesset is that the destruction of the Russian missiles was a miracle of God."
"You don't think the Israeli ambassador actually believes that, do you?" asked Decker.
"The point is, a great many of the Israeli people believe it." Hansen said and then shook his head and sighed. "Hell, I can't really blame them for their response to restructuring, though. It doesn't offer them much to look forward to."