Revelation
Seven years later
Decker shook the rain from his umbrella, unbuttoned his raincoat, and walked past the U.N. guard toward the main elevators.
"Good morning, Mr. Hawthorne," the guard said. "And happy birthday!"
Decker paused long enough to smile and nod. "Thank you, Charlie," he responded.
How the hell did he remember that? Decker wondered, as he stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the thirty-eighth floor. Once he reached the top floor of the United Nations Secretariat building, Decker proceeded to his office, three doors down from the office of Secretary-General Jon Hansen. The view of the East River and Queens from Decker's office was almost obscured by the rain beating hard against the window.
Decker looked through the notes on his desk to decide what he wanted to do first this morning. Among the neatly disorganized clutter on the desk were two photographs: one of Decker with Elizabeth, Hope and Louisa taken in that brief period between his escape from Lebanon and the Disaster, and a two-year-old picture of Christopher at his graduation from the Masters program at the United Nations University for Peace in Costa Rica.
Other than being Decker's fifty-eighth birthday it was an ordinary day at the U.N., a fact for which Decker was grateful. As Director of Public Affairs for Secretary-General Jon Hansen, Decker had been personally involved in much of the planning and implementation of the worldwide United Nations Day celebration three days earlier, so the return to normalcy was welcome. The observance of the U.N.'s founding had been a big success, with celebrations in nearly 220 of the 265 member nations. Secretary-General Hansen placed great importance on the event. He wanted it to be bigger and better each year in order to build public acceptance and support for the U.N. and its programs. In some countries the U.N. Day celebration had actually grown more important than the individual nations' own 'birthday' celebrations. There were a few countries where they might have even dispensed with their own national celebrations altogether were it not for the fact that it was an extra day off for the bureaucrats.
Relatively speaking, the world was at peace; and Decker was, for the moment, at rest, recovering from the massive effort of coordinating celebrations in more than a dozen time zones.
Twenty minutes later Decker finally let Mary Polk, his secretary, know that he was officially 'in.' "Mr. Hawthorne," Mary said in surprise, "I didn't see you come in. Have you forgotten about your meeting this morning with the Secretary-General?"
"What meeting?" Decker asked.
"You're scheduled for a meeting with the Secretary-General this morning. It was supposed to start about fifteen minutes ago. Jackie has already called twice to find out where you were."
"Oh, no! Why didn't you check to see if I was here?" Decker asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Call Jackie and tell her I'll be right there." It was only about thirty yards to Secretary-General Hansen's office, so Decker was at the door only seconds after Mary reached Jackie Hansen on the phone.
"They're waiting for you in the conference room," Jackie said as Decker altered his course toward the adjoining room and opened the door.
"Surprise!" about three dozen voices suddenly yelled in unison.
In the center of the crowd stood Secretary-General and Mrs. Hansen. Both seemed to be enjoying the surprised look on Decker's face. It was incumbent on Decker to laugh, but all he could manage at first was a pained moan and a disbelieving shake of the head. Finally an appreciative smile broke through. Behind Decker, Mary Polk entered the room to join the party. "You're in big trouble," Decker told his secretary as he caught sight of her.
"Don't blame her," interrupted Hansen. "She was just following my orders."
"Don't you people know that surprise birthday parties are supposed to be in the afternoon?" Decker asked.
"If we had done it that way we might not have surprised you," Jackie said with a laugh.
On the table were several dozen doughnuts stacked tightly together to look like a cake, with about half the candles Decker was actually due, waiting to be lit. "You guys are nuts," Decker said.
"What's that?" Hansen asked in mock offense.
"You guys are nuts, sir," Decker answered.
"Much better," Hansen joked.
But there was still one more surprise for Decker. In a corner of the room was a guest who at first had been concealed behind the others. "Christopher!" Decker said. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"You didn't think I'd miss your birthday, did you?" Christopher, now twenty-two, answered.
"You're supposed to be on a cruise around the world."
"I decided to take half now and half later," Christopher said. "So I flew back."
"Hey, are you going to blow out the candles or not?" Mary Polk asked.
Decker blew out the candles and everyone dug into the doughnuts and coffee. As with most office parties, a few people stayed only long enough to make an appearance, others just long enough to get seconds of the goodies and take a couple of doughnuts back to their desks. Others stayed on and told jokes or gathered in small groups to talk business. Decker positioned himself close to the door and made sure to thank each person for coming. Christopher circulated among the attendees, adding his jokes to the till and, where they were welcome, offering his opinions on the topics of conversation in each of the clusters he visited. Decker watched, pleased at how well-accepted Christopher was by Decker's colleagues, and at how well he handled himself with these people. Among the well-wishers were three Security Council members: Ambassador Lee Yun-mai of China; Ambassador Friedreich Heineman of Germany, representing Europe on the Security Council; and Ambassador Yuri Kruszkegin, formerly of the Russian Federation and now of the independent Republic of Khakassia, representing Northern Asia. They had grouped on one side of the room and were discussing a recent vote on trade barriers. Christopher seemed just as comfortable with them as he had been with the administrative staff.
Finally the crowd began to thin and Secretary-General Hansen came over to talk with Decker. "I want to thank you again, Decker, for the spectacular job you did with this year's United Nations Day celebration," Hansen said as he gave him a pat on the back. "Thank you for saying so, sir."
"I think you're due for a little time off, so I told Jackie to put you down as being on vacation for the next four or five days. I think your staff can hold the world together in your absence."
The offer was a surprise but, like the party, it was a welcome one. "I believe I'll take you up on that, sir," Decker said willingly. "It would be nice to spend some time with Christopher."
"That's quite a boy, you've got there," Hansen said, motioning with his coffee cup in Christopher's direction. "Yes, sir," Decker said, with fatherly pride. "Someone else who thinks so is Bob Milner. He sent me a letter – a very favorable letter – recommending Christopher for a position with ECOSOC," Hansen said, referring to the United Nations Economic and Social Council.
"Yes, sir. The former Assistant Secretary-General has been quite supportive of Christopher's endeavors. He even flew down to Costa Rica last month for Christopher's graduation from the U.N. University's Doctoral program." Decker said this more to brag on Christopher than anything else. He was always willing to tell anyone who asked that Christopher graduated first in his class, simultaneously earning both a Ph.D. in Political Science and a masters degree in World Agricultural Management. At this moment he was supposed to have been on a cruise around the world, taking a well-earned vacation before starting to work at ECOSOC in the position for which Milner had recommended him.
"Well, with friends like Bob Milner, he'll go a long way," Hansen said.
"Have you heard anything recently about Secretary Milner, sir?" Decker asked. "Someone said he wasn't feeling well."
"Jackie tells me that he checked into the hospital three nights ago for observation because of his heart, and he's still there."
"I've been so busy I didn't know that," Decker said, obviously both surprised and concerned.
"He's 82 now, you know," Hansen said.
"That's not so old," Decker responded, thinking about the recent addition of a year to his own age.
Hansen laughed. "Christopher can probably tell you better than I can about how Secretary Milner is doing. I understand he went to see him this morning before coming to the party."
"Oh," said Decker, a little surprised, but now understanding more fully why Christopher had cut his trip short.
When the party broke up, Decker went back to his office to tie up some loose ends and clear his calendar. It was nearly noon before he was ready to leave. "Where do you want to go for lunch?" Christopher asked. "I'm buying."
"In that case, there's a hot dog stand downstairs," Decker joked, as he gathered up a few papers and stuffed them into his briefcase.
"I think we can do a little better than that," Christopher answered.
They finally settled on the Palm Too, a nice but reasonably priced restaurant on Second Avenue near the U.N. "So," Decker began after they had ordered, "are you ready to start putting that education of yours to work at ECOSOC?"
"Ready, and anxious to get started," Christopher answered. "I'm not supposed to start work for another two weeks, but maybe I could spend some time reading through their archived literature." If it had been anyone else, Decker might have complimented his enthusiasm, but from Christopher he had come to expect it.
"I spoke with Louis Colleta last week," Decker said, referring to the head of ECOSOC. "He asked me about you and said he was looking forward to having you on his staff. He told me two or three times how pleased he was to be able to hire someone of your caliber. I'm sure that if you called him and let him know you're available, he'd want you to start right away."
"I'm glad to hear that. I'm just as pleased to have gotten the job."
"I think you made a wise decision in pursuing it. The expansion of ECOSOC's role is a major part of Secretary-General Hansen's plan for greater centralization of authority during his current term." Decker tapped his finger on the table to make his point. "As the role of the U.N. expands, ECOSOC is going to be more and more on the leading edge of world policy."
"When you look at the growth Secretary-General Hansen has brought about over the last seven years and the spirit of cooperation he inspires among the members of the Security Council, as well as the other member nations, it's hard to imagine how we could get along without him if he were ever to retire," Christopher said.
"Well, I don't think you have to worry about that: he's not the kind to ever willingly walk away from an opportunity to work for world betterment. Besides – off the record – I think he's having too much fun to ever retire." Christopher smiled. "But, you're right: I don't know how we could ever get along without him. So much of his success is based on his own popularity. Peter Fantham in the Times called him the 'George Washington of the United Nations' and I have to agree." Decker paused briefly to take a bite of his sandwich. "We run regular public opinion polls on current and possible future policies, and we also check approval ratings for the various agencies and officials. Secretary Hansen continues to build a higher and higher overall approval rating in all of the ten regions. Last month his worldwide approval rating reached 78 percent. Sure, there are those who oppose everything Hansen or the U.N. does; a few religious kooks mostly. They think he's the Antichrist or something, and that world government is somehow inherently evil."
"Yeah, well I suppose you're always going to have a few of those," Christopher responded. "But a 78 percent approval rating, that's incredible!"
"You bet it is," Decker continued. "Unfortunately, if there's a single biggest weakness in Hansen's government, it's that it's based too heavily on Hansen himself." Decker looked around to be sure no one was listening and then for good measure, leaned over the table closer to Christopher and whispered: "Left to themselves, some of the Security Council members would fight like cats and dogs." This fact was no big secret; it was just that because of Decker's position with the U.N. it would be embarrassing if he were overheard making such a statement. "But Hansen has been able to use his personal charm and skills to bind the Council together, helping them overlook their differences, and getting them to work as a single unit for the common good. The more I watch him, the more I believe that he was born for this moment in world history. I shudder to think what the Security Council meetings would be like without him.
"You know," Decker continued, "I've frequently been amazed at the human ability to adapt to the situation at hand. I suppose that's why we've survived as long as we have as a species. But at the same time, we seem to have this crazy notion that the way things are at the moment is the way they will remain. Maybe it's just that humans are naturally optimistic. We've gotten pretty used to living in a world at peace, but there's no guarantee that condition will last. Rome fell and so might the United Nations one day. My fear is that we won't last nearly so long as Rome. I'm convinced that as long as Jon Hansen holds the reins the world will stay at peace, but unfortunately there's no structure for succession. The U.N. Charter lays out the means for electing a new Secretary-General, but how do you find a leader of Hansen's stature and quality?" Decker and Christopher sat quietly for a moment, both recognizing there was no more to say on the subject and neither was there a proper way, other than silence and taking a few bites of their lunch, of making the transition to another topic.
"Well," Decker said finally, "the last time we talked on the phone you said you had some news for me: something to do with your dreams."
"Oh, yes. It's about my dreams and some classes I took during my final two semesters. Secretary Milner suggested them."
Decker, who had been doing most of the talking and little of the eating to this point, took advantage of the opportunity while Christopher talked.
"The first class dealt with New Age thought and eastern religions like Buddhism, Taoism, and Shintoism. Secretary Milner was involved in the development of the curriculum for the class."
"I thought Milner was a Catholic," Decker said.
"He is. That's one of the most interesting things about the eastern religions: they don't make any claims to exclusivity. You can be a Catholic, a Protestant, a Jew, a Muslim, a Hindu or any other religion; it doesn't matter. They believe that there are many routes to God and that it's wrong to suggest that there's one single way to reach him.
Secretary Milner said he was first introduced to the eastern religions by Secretary-General U Thant. Anyway, the other class got into things like altered states of consciousness, channeling, and astral projection."
"I know that stuff has gotten real popular. There's a large contingent of New Agers at the U.N. I don't mean to be judgmental, but it all sounds pretty weird to me."
"Yeah," Christopher answered, "I thought so too, at first. The classes I took really only scratched the surface, but I learned a great deal. Some of it still seems a little crazy, but I think they may be on the right track about some things. I read a little about New Age thought eight or nine years ago when I first found out about my origin. You remember that when I told Uncle Harry about the crucifixion dream he had me read some things in the Bible to see if it would spur any memories?"
"Sure," Decker responded.
"Well, I didn't stop with the parts that Uncle Harry wanted me to read. I read the whole thing, from Genesis to Revelation. Afterward I became very interested in reading what other religions had to say. So I read the Koran, the Book ofMormon, Dianetics, Science With Key to the Scriptures, and about a dozen other religious books. After growing up around Uncle Harry, I guess I was a little surprised to find that a lot of what they said made a great deal of sense. Some of the books talked about things like karma and reincarnation, meditation, and astral projection."
"Astral projection?" Decker asked. "You mentioned that a minute ago. What exactly is that?"
"Well, like most things in the eastern religions, it's really pretty simple when you stop and think about it. Nearly all religions teach that man is made up of both body and spirit. Astral projection is a process used during meditation that is supposed to allow you to travel in the form of spirit energy to other places while your body remains in one place."
"Yeah, okay. I've heard of that; Jackie said something about it… " Decker tried to recall when, "oh, I guess it was a few months ago. But that's just a bunch of silliness," Decker said, ready to drop the subject.
"Maybe not." Christopher said. His expression said there was more.
"You've tried this?" Decker asked, recognizing that Christopher was not the type to believe something as bizarre as this without close scrutiny.
"Yes," answered Christopher. "The first time was eight years ago."
The revelation took Decker entirely by surprise. "You never told me about this before."
"Well, as you said, it sounded pretty crazy – especially before I took these classes."
"So where did you go in your astral projection?" Decker asked, still far from convinced.
"Lebanon," Christopher answered.
Decker put down his fork and knife and stared at Christopher, unsure whether he was serious. He was. Finally, Decker broke the silence. "Christopher, the night before the Disaster, your Aunt Martha and Uncle Harry came to visit Elizabeth and me. Martha told Elizabeth that you knew before the escape that I would be corning home soon. Do you remember telling her that?" "Yes, sir."
"How did you know?"
"I was there with you in Lebanon; I untied you." Decker swallowed hard.
After a moment, Christopher continued. "As I said, besides the Bible, I read about a dozen other religious books including some that dealt with astral projection. It sounded interesting so I read as much as I could find about it. And then I tried it. I was surprised at how easy it was. At first I just went to places I knew, but then I started going farther. I tried to reach you several times, but even after I found you, you couldn't see me. That's when I decided to try to appear to you in a dream. Do you remember the dream?"
Decker finally found his tongue to answer. "Yes. But until this moment I thought that was all it was. I never even told anyone about it except Tom Donafin, right after we escaped, and Elizabeth. From what your Aunt Martha said I thought you might have had some premonition or something about the escape, but I never imagined this. Why didn't you ever tell me?"
A look of relief swept over Christopher's face. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't entirely sure about it myself until this moment. It was so dream-like that I thought the whole thing might have been my imagination. Why didn't you ever mention it?"
Decker shrugged his shoulders. "It seemed so crazy."
Decker and Christopher just looked at each other for a moment. "I guess I owe you an awful lot," Decker said.
"Not nearly as much as I owe you for taking me in when I had nowhere else to go."
"I probably would have died in Lebanon if it weren't for you."
"I guess we owe each other a lot. You've been like a father to me."
"And you've been like a son." Decker was starting to get a little choked up, so after a deep breath he took a drink and brought the subject back to its previous course. "So, have you done any more of this astral projection?"
"No. Perhaps I made more out of it than I should have, but there was something strangely frightening about it. Every time I did it, it was as if there was something more going on than I realized."
"What do you mean?"
"Well it was like… " Christopher seemed to be struggling for words. "The only way I can describe it is by analogy. Imagine you're walking through a peaceful field. All around you, as far as you can see, everything is totally tranquil. And yet, even though you can't see or hear it, you seem to know that somewhere just beyond your view, perhaps over the next rise, there's a tremendous battle taking place. That's about the best way I can explain it, except that somehow I knew that I was the subject of that battle; and every time I traveled by astral projection, even though I still couldn't see or hear it, it felt as if the battle had gotten closer and fiercer. It was as though someone or something was trying to get to me – at me – and someone or something else was trying to prevent it. After the last trip to Lebanon I never did it again.
"Without being specific," Christopher continued, "I asked my professor at the university if she had ever heard any report of fear or other negative feelings by people during astral projection. She said all the literature indicated only positive reports." Christopher shrugged and Decker shook his head, having no idea what to make of it all.
"But let me tell you about some other things I've discovered from taking these courses," Christopher said. "I think I've been able to piece together some more parts of my past. One of the classes taught us to do a type of meditation in which you go into a dream-like state while you're still fully conscious, so it's possible to have full control and nearly full recollection of everything that you dream. Since most of the things I've remembered about my life as Jesus have occurred in dreams, I tried using this type of meditation to draw out other information."
"So what have you discovered?" Decker asked.
"I remember, as a child, working in my father's carpentry shop and how hard the work was; and I remember playing with the other children. One thing that's a little odd is that I've had several dreams involving Indians."
Decker did a double take. "Indians?!" he said. "You mean like Sitting Bull, Cochise, Geronimo?!"
"No! No! I mean real Indians; east Indians; from India."
"Oh!" Decker laughed at his understandable error. "But, that's not much better. There's nothing in the Bible about Jesus ever going to India is there?"
"No, not in the Bible, but there's considerable evidence in other literature that suggests he did. There's a church in Montana called the Church Universal and Triumphant which teaches that Jesus studied under an Indian maharishi. To tell you the truth, sometimes it's hard to be sure which memories are based on something that actually happened and which are the product of imagination. What I remember, or at least seem to remember, are scenes of life in an Indian village and of one particular Indian who must have been my teacher or spiritual leader. In my dream I'm very young, sitting on a mat listening to him, though I've not been able to make any sense out of what he was saying."
"Is there anything else that you remember – in particular, any events which happened differently than what the Bible describes? "
"No, mostly just personal experiences," Christopher answered regretfully.
"How far back have you been able to remember?" Decker asked. "Do you remember anything about… God?" Decker's tone bore a strong hint of reverent caution.
"I'm sorry," Christopher answered, "I wish I did. I can usually remember my dreams while I'm meditating, and I have had a number of dreams that I think involved someone who seemed like a god, but each time when I woke up and tried to remember, it just wouldn't come back to me. I do remember that the dreams were very unusual and I remember a feeling of awe mixed with a heavy dose of fear."
"In your dream," Decker probed, "did it seem like you were in heaven?" The word 'heaven' coming from his mouth reminded Decker of the bizarre circumstances of this whole conversation and he looked around again to be sure no one was listening.
"I don't know," Christopher answered. "It didn't seem at all like the heaven Aunt Martha described. I suppose it could have been the planet that Uncle Harry thought I came from. I've searched my memory time and again, but all I can see of that world is shadows. It's like trying to hold water in your hand. I'll start to remember something, and for a moment it seems so real and solid, but the instant I start to grasp it, it's gone. I do remember seeing lights – glowing bodies, sometimes in human form, sometimes with no form at all." Decker's expression said that he wanted to hear more. "Angels maybe," Christopher added with an uncomfortable chuckle. "And there was one other thing: a voice. I don't remember what it said; I just remember the voice, the sound of the voice. Something about it was strangely familiar, but I can't say exactly why or how. What's even more puzzling is that I think I've heard that voice somewhere else, just recently, within the past several years."
Decker's eyes grew wide. "Can you re… " Decker stopped abruptly as a sudden look of recognition registered on Christopher's face. "What is it?" he asked.
"I just remembered where I heard the voice!" Christopher fell silent, apparently analyzing the new data in his mind.
"Where?" Decker asked, trying to urge him on.
"Remember the dream I had about the wooden box on the night the missiles blew up over Russia?" Decker nodded. "In the dream there was a voice saying 'Behold the hand of God,' followed by laughter, cold inhuman laughter. That was the really frightening part of the dream."
"Yeah, I remember you telling me that."
"That's what made the voice I heard in my meditations seem both familiar, and yet at the same time so strange. The voice and the laughter are the same. They are the same person or being or whatever. I'm sure of it."
Decker waited while Christopher silently continued his analysis. "I'm sorry," he said, finally, "that's all I can remember."
"Do you have any idea what it all means?" Decker asked.
Christopher frowned and shook his head.
Decker waited a moment just in case Christopher had any afterthoughts. He didn't. "Well," Decker concluded with a smile, "having you around sure makes life interesting." Decker started to take a bite of his meal but was struck by another thought. "Uh, Christopher… "he began, unsure of exactly how to word his question, "these classes and meditation: I don't suppose they've given you any insight into why you're here – whether you're here for a purpose or anything – if you have a mission?"
Decker was entirely in earnest, but for the first time in the conversation Christopher began to laugh. "What's so funny?" Decker asked, quite surprised by Christopher's reaction.
"I guess that somewhere in the back of my mind I had always hoped you might someday answer that question for me," Christopher responded. Decker gave him a puzzled look. "After all, the cloning wasn't my idea."
Nor had it been Decker's idea, but in the absence of Professor Goodman, Decker suddenly felt the weight of a responsibility he had never considered his own.
Christopher broke the brief but uncomfortable pause, "I'm just trying to make the best of a very strange situation," he said. "I might just as well ask you why you were born. I guess none of us actually chose to be here. We just are." Christopher paused again. "I guess that's one big difference between me and the original. Apparently he had some choice in coming to this planet. I had none. I suppose in some ways my lack of choice actually makes me all the more human." Christopher's voice seemed to carry a real note of longing – a longing to be like everyone else.
"No, I'm not entirely human," Christopher continued. "I don't get sick and if I hurt myself I heal quickly, but I feel what other people feel, I hurt like other people hurt. I bleed like other people bleed. And I can die, too." Here Christopher paused. "At least I guess I can." And paused again. Decker didn't interrupt. "If I were to die, I'm not sure what would happen. Would I be resurrected like Jesus was? I don't know. What was it that resurrected Jesus? Was it in his nature?… my nature? Or was it some special act of God? I don't know."
Decker had seen Christopher's humanity time and again: in the pain he carried with him over the loss of his adoptive aunt and uncle; in the compassion he showed toward Decker for the loss of Elizabeth, Hope and Louisa; in his desire that his life and profession be directed toward helping those less fortunate than himself; and in the concern he had for the well-being of his friend and mentor Secretary Milner. And here again was another sign of Christopher's humanity, one that Decker had never seen before: his feeling of being lost and alone in a life and a world he did not choose.
"I don't think I'm here for any reason in particular," Christopher concluded, "except maybe, like everyone else, to be the best me I can be."
Abruptly, Christopher's thoughts shifted to Milner almost as if they had been pushed in that direction by Decker's own fleeting thought of the former Assistant Secretary-General a moment earlier. "I'm really worried about him," he said.
Somehow Decker knew immediately who Christopher was referring to. He would have preferred to stay on the subject of Christopher's dreams and recollections, but they could return to that later. Right now Christopher was displaying the very humanity that Decker had just been pondering. He was obviously more concerned with Milner's well-being than with his own circumstances.
"He put up a good show at the hospital," Christopher continued, "but I think he's in much worse condition than he let on. I asked the doctors, but they said they were prohibited from talking about the case, except to say his surgery went well."
"That's pretty much standard policy," Decker said. "I wouldn't let that worry you. I insist on the same policy with Secretary-General Hansen's doctors. They don't say a word to the press or anyone else without my approval."
"Sure, I know that," Christopher said, a little reluctant to be reassured. "I guess mainly it's just a feeling. I've never seen him like this. Sure, I know that he's getting on in years, but he's always been so strong. I just wasn't prepared to see him so pale and short of breath. I wish you could have been with me."
"Well, look, if it'll make you feel any better we can drop by the hospital on the way home." Decker immediately realized he was making an assumption. "You are planning to stay at the apartment?"
"Sure, if that's okay with you."
"Of course it's okay. Your room's just the way you left it."
At the hospital Decker and Christopher headed for Milner's room. They were in the elevator when suddenly a look of concern swept over Christopher's face. "What is it?" Decker asked.
Christopher shook his head as if he were trying to shake off a dizzy spell. "It's that feeling – the one I told you about where a battle is raging somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because I was just telling you about it, but suddenly I had it again." The conversation ended abruptly as the elevator reached their floor and the door opened, revealing something unusual was happening. There was a steady stream of people, mostly elderly but a few younger ones as well, moving as quickly as their feet or wheelchairs would carry them, which in the case of some was not very fast at all. There was no apparent panic. They were not running from something. Rather they seemed to be going toward something.
"Have you seen him?" one nurse asked another at the nurse's station as people walked, rolled, or shuffled past. "Only a peek," the other answered. "There are too many people around the door to get a look at him."
As they walked down the hall with the flow of people, Decker and Christopher couldn't help but notice the excitement as they made their way around the more slowly advancing patients. "I wonder what's up," Christopher said.
"Looks like somebody's giving away free money and these people want to get there before it's all gone," Decker suggested.
When they rounded the corner, it became clear that the excitement was centered around a room at the end of the hall. Outside the door stood about forty people, most in hospital clothes and slippers, some dressed in the garb of orderlies or nurses, each trying to get closer to the door.
"That's Secretary Milner's room," Christopher said. They immediately picked up their pace, intending to press headlong through the crowd, but were quickly engulfed in the melee. Just out of their sight, and coming down an adjoining hall, a very stoutly built nurse was leading four orderlies toward the same crowd. Soon Decker and Christopher were pushed away along with the rest of the throng. They might have stood their ground – the others probably would have made their way around anyone who seemed unwilling to move. Instead, they made for an empty alcove as the mass moved by them, driven on like a herd of cattle. "What is going on!?" asked Decker in disbelief. But the only one who heard him was Christopher, who seemed as bewildered as Decker.
"Do you think something has happened to Secretary Milner?" Christopher asked.
"Nah," responded Decker reassuringly. "Didn't you see those people? They weren't acting like they were headed for a funeral. In fact, from the looks on some of their faces, I'd think it was more likely that Milner had a baby."
Christopher smiled, and soon the final stragglers passed, followed closely by the stout nurse and her armor-bearers. From there it was only a matter of getting past the guard at the door, an easy task for someone of Decker's experience and credentials. As the door to Milner's room swung open they saw two doctors huddled around the bed, leaning way over as if working on their patient. On closer examination it became clear that the bed was unoccupied except for some medical charts the doctors were examining.
"Where is Secretary Milner?" Christopher asked anxiously.
For a moment the doctors ignored them, and then one turned and called for the guard to escort the intruders out of the room. "It's okay," the second doctor said as he recognized Christopher from his visit earlier in the day.
"Where is Secretary Milner?" Christopher repeated insistently.
"He's in the lavatory," the second doctor answered.
"What was all the commotion about? Is he all right?" Christopher asked, a little less urgently.
"See for yourself," said a voice from their left. There, standing in the open bathroom door was former Assistant Secretary-General Milner dressed in his hospital gown. His appearance gave no hint as to why he was even in the hospital. His eyes were clear and bright, his complexion restored to its ruddy glow, his stance tall and erect with shoulders and chest broad and firm.
Decker gave his head a quick shake to check his orientation. Christopher simply stared.
"How do I look?" Milner asked proudly.
"You, uh… look great," Christopher answered. "What happened?"
Milner cast his eyes toward the doctors, though it seemed he did so less for an answer and more to gloat over their lack of an explanation.
"We're not sure," one of the doctors admitted. "He seems to be in perfect health. He's no spring chicken, but if I didn't know better I'd swear he was twenty years younger than when he checked in."
"They're not sure," Milner said, repeating the doctor's first remark with glee. "Actually, they haven't the foggiest idea."
"He's right," one of them confessed.
"Why don't you fellas just go on back to your offices and study those charts while I talk to my visitors," Milner urged, as he motioned his physicians toward the door.
The doctors didn't resist but warned Milner not to overexert himself.
"Of course not," Milner responded, unconvincingly.
When they were gone, Milner checked the ties on his hospital gown and quickly dropped to the floor and began doing pushups. "Count 'em for me, Christopher," he said as he began. Christopher resisted but counted them anyway as Milner, refusing to let the feat go unmeasured, started to count for himself. As he reached twenty-three Christopher insisted that he cease, which he promptly did, after two more.
Decker was too busy chuckling at this strange scene to speak, but Christopher asked again, "What's going on? What happened?"
"What do you mean, 'What happened,'" Milner responded. "It's obvious: I'm well and I feel ready to take on the world."
"But how did this happen?" Christopher pressed.
"It's obvious," Milner repeated, unharried by Christopher's insistence, but then came to the point, "It all started just after I got the transfusion of the blood you donated."
Decker's stopped laughing. He was momentarily stunned, not only by the fact that Christopher's blood had this effect, but by Milner's matter-of-fact response. Did Milner know about Christopher? How could he? He wondered whether he should pursue this any further and risk giving away Christopher's secret. "What are you saying?" he asked, unable to control his own curiosity.
"Mr. Hawthorne," Milner said, formally, "I have known of Christopher's history since the first moment I saw him. And to some small extent I also know his destiny – though I am forbidden to reveal it, even to him. I cannot claim that I knew this would happen," he said, referring to his improved condition, "but neither does it surprise me in the least!"