Tyndale House - The Mark - The Beast Rules the World

"For the most loyal," Nicolae said with a grin. "Someone like, oh, say, Director Hickman, for instance."

Hickman blushed but called out, "Sign me up, Viv!"

"The beauty of the embedded chip is twofold," she continued. "First, it leaves the visible evidence of loyalty to the potentate, and second, it serves as a method of payment and receipting for buying and selling. Eye-level scanners will allow customers and merchants to merely pass by and be billed or receipted."

Several whistles of admiration sounded. David's head throbbed. He raised his hand. "Director Hassid," Viv said. "What are you looking at in the way of timing?" "Worried that your head won't take any more invasion just now?" she said, smiling. "I had an IV in the hand too." "Not to worry," she said. "While the potentate and the former Supreme Commander see value in employees serving as examples to the world, you will have thirty days, beginning tomorrow, to fulfill your obligation." "I'll do it tonight," someone said, "and I'm not even Hickman!"

A month, David thought. A month to get out of Dodge. What would become of him and Annie and Mac and Abdullah? And Hannah Palemoon?

Viv said that over the next few days she would be sure each director knew his or her part in the rollout of images of Carpathia and the application of the mark of loyalty. Meanwhile, she said, "His Excellency has a closing comment." ^ "Thank you, Viv," Nicolae said. "Allow me to tell you just one story of a family I met today, and you know I met thousands. We have such a nucleus of loyal citizenry! This was a beautifully loyal Asian family named Wong."

David fought to maintain his composure. "Their daughter already works for us at Buffer in Brussels. The parents are well-to-do and great supporters of the Global Community. The father was quite proud of his family and of his record of loyalty. But I was most impressed with the seventeen-year-old son, Chang. Here is a boy who, according to his father, loves me and everything about the world as we see it today. He wants nothing more than to work for me here at the palace, and though he has another year of high school, would rather bring his talents our way.

"And such talents! I will arrange for the completion of his schooling here, because he is a genius! He can program any computer, analyze and fix any procedural or operational or systems problem. And this is not just a proud father talking. He showed me documents, grades, letters of recommendation. This kind of boy is our future, and our future has never looked brighter."

That boy, David thought, would die before he took the mark.

As Rayford followed the wheelchair down the hall, barely able to breathe, his mind reeled with his mistakes. Were it somehow possible to extricate himself from this, he would be the most decisive leader the Tribulation Force could imagine.

They repaired to an office even smaller than the original. Pinkerton Stephens opened the door and neatly pivoted his chair so he could hold it open and leave room for Rayford and Albie to enter. He pointed Rayford to a steel gray chair near the wall, facing a desk of the same color and material. Albie sat to Rayford's left.

Stephens let the door shut and locked it, breathed something nasally about the room being secure and not bugged, then steered himself to the other side of the desk, plowing a standard chair out of the way. He maneuvered his wheelchair up to and under the desk, leaned forward and rested his elbows atop it, and folded his hand and a half under his chin.

Part of Rayford could hardly bear to look at the man; another part could not take his eyes off him. "Now then," Stephens began slowly, "Deputy Commander Elbaz-if that's your real name-you may restrap your side arm and keep your hand off it. We're both on the same team, and you have nothing to fear. As for you, Mr. Berry, while you may be out of uniform and likely using an alias yourself, neither do you have anything to fear. You are about to be pleasantly surprised to find that the three of us are on the same team."

Rayford wanted to say, "I doubt it," but feared he would emit no sound if he tried.

"Shall we start over, gentlemen?" Stephens said. If only…, Rayford thought.

"Mr. Elbaz, as the superior officer, I believe it falls to you to begin our session with the proper protocol."

"He is risen," Albie said, miserably in Rayford's opinion.

"Who is risen indeed?" Stephens responded, and Rayford attributed the mispronunciation to the man's malady, whatever it was. Albie just stared at Stephens. Rayford noticed that while Albie had taken his hand off his gun, he had not fastened the strap. Rayford wondered if he could grab the gun, kill them both, and get away with Hattie.

"Commander Elbaz, you have business here, and I will let you get to it after I satisfy the curiosity on both your parts. I realize that I am difficult to look at, that you both have to be wondering what happened to me, and that as hard as I have worked on my speech, I am difficult to understand. Have either of you ever seen someone with most of his face missing?"

Both shook their heads, and Stephens placed his good thumb beneath his chin. "Once I remove my prosthesis, I will be unable to be understood at all, and so I will not attempt to speak." Snap!

Rayford flinched as Stephens unsnapped the plastic covering under his chin. Snap! Snap!

As he continued, it became clear that the prosthesis was all one piece that substituted for most of his chin, nose, eye sockets, and forehead. It was held in place by metal fasteners embedded in what was left of the original facial bones. Stephens kept it in place with his stub-fingered hand and said, "Prepare yourselves; I won't make you look long."

Albie held up a hand. "Mr. Stephens, this is unnecessary. We have business here, yes, and I don't see the need to-"

He stopped when Stephens pulled the piece away from his face, revealing a monstrous cavity. Only what was left of his lips hinted at anything human, and Rayford fought to keep from covering his own eyes. The man had no nose and his entire eyeballs were exposed. Through gaps in his forehead, Rayford believed he could see through to the brain.

Rayford could breathe again when Stephens refastened the appliance. "Forgive me, gentlemen," he said, "but just as I assumed, neither of you really saw what I wanted you to see."

"And what was that?" Albie said, clearly shaken.

"Something that explains what I see on your faces."

"I'm lost," Rayford said.

"Oh, but you're not," Stephens said with a twisted smile. "You once were lost, but now you're found. Would you like me to remove the prosthesis again and-"

"No," Rayford and Albie said in unison. And Albie added, "Just get to the point."

Pinkerton folded his hands beneath his chin again, and his eyes seemed to bore into Albie. "How did I respond when you said, 'He is risen'?"

Albie seemed to have regained his voice and composure. "Sounded like you said, 'Who is risen indeed?' "

"That's what I said. What's your answer?"

Albie shifted and cleared his throat. "I believe the protocol is that I say, 'He is risen,' and that you respond, 'He is risen indeed.' "

"Fair enough, but my question remains. Who is risen indeed?"

So, Rayford concluded, somehow he's onto me. And yet he sat silent, knowing a moment of truth had arrived and waiting to see what would come of it.

"Humor me one more time, Commander."

Albie sighed and glanced at Rayford. Albie's phony mark sure looked real. "He is risen," Albie muttered.

"Who is risen indeed?" Stephens said, forcing another smile through the misshapen lips.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Albie said. "I'm tired of this game."

"Christ!" Stephens whispered excitedly. "Come on, brothers! The answer to the question is 'Christ!' Christ is risen indeed! I see the marks of the believer on both your foreheads! You missed mine for the horror of the rest of my face. Now look!"