“Sir, if I may. I have met Miss Laplante many times, the first time being only a few weeks after her arrival in 1940. I believe her to be an exceptional and most decent person, even if some people have tried to demonize her lately, maybe out of jealousy.
Let’s not forget that she has the tremendous advantage of historical hindsight over us, apart from enjoying the support of some incredibly advanced technology. We may not like what she tells us, but does that mean that what she says is wrong? I personally believe that we may be wise to listen to her with an open mind.”
“To the point of changing our laws to fit her views, Mister Stimson?” Replied Roosevelt. “That is what she is basically asking us to do on matters like segregation laws and the internment of Japanese in the United States. No! The people of the United States elected this government and not her. Let’s now talk about our future plans for the Pacific.”
Stimson felt disappointment at being rebuffed like this but did not insist. Admiral King, the austere, severe commander of the Navy, was next to speak, his voice forceful.
“I say that we should go for a straightforward invasion of Japan right away. The Japanese have next to nothing left in the air or on the sea to oppose us and we could attack while most of the Japanese Army is stuck in isolated garrisons around the Pacific and unable to move. Hell, we probably could take Tokyo in a week.”
“Sir, that may not be a wise move.” Objected politely Admiral Nimitz, who was the subaltern of King. “The Japanese are holding tens of thousands of American and Allied prisoners around the Pacific, both military and civilians, and could massacre them in retaliation to any invasion of the Japanese main islands by us.”
“They know what would happen to them if they did that. They would not dare touch our people.” Said King dismissively. “Besides, we have thousands of Japanese held here in the States that could be used as a bargaining chip.”
Henry Stimson, keeping his cool with difficulty, bent forward, glaring at King.
“Admiral, you should realize two things: first, I believe that the Japanese soldiers don’t really care about either what will happen to them or what will happen to the Japanese interned in the United States; second, many of those so-called Japanese held in our camps happen to be American citizens, whether you like it or not. I always believed that interning those people, who by the way never showed any disloyalty towards their country of adoption, was both a big mistake and an injustice. I still think likewise right now. So, before you sacrifice both our people held by the Japanese and 791
punish some others held by us, I would urge you to reconsider your idea about invading Japan.”
King, a stern man unaccustomed to having someone oppose him openly, was about to reply when General Marshall, the Army Chief of Staffs, cut him off.
“Admiral King, I believe that we should hold on a bit about invading Japan yet.
Personally, I feel that we should concentrate first on the place where most of our former allies and of our servicemen are held in the Pacific: the Philippines. We could always blockade Japan in the meantime and let it starve into submission while we free our people.”
“I would agree with that, General.” Said General Arnold, commander of the Army Air Force. “We would have however to act quickly to ensure that the Japanese in the Philippines don’t have the time or chance to harm our people there. I propose that, once our fleet is in place and about to invade the Philippines, we launch a massive airborne operation to secure the Japanese prisoners camps.”
“How long would it take us before we are ready to launch such an operation, gentlemen?” Asked Roosevelt, looking around him and appearing obviously interested by Arnold’s idea. The generals and admirals discussed between themselves for a moment before Marshall looked back at the president.
“We should be ready in about three weeks, Mister President. Doing it any faster would make us take unacceptable risks.”
“Then three weeks it is, gentlemen! Now, about Europe. I say that, since Miss Laplante has decided to play kingmaker over there, we should let her run the show and wait for her to trip on her own plans when things there will blow out in her face. Then we will see who has the last laugh. Cordell, we will skip that conference in Paris: I will be damned if I support that De Gaulle and his so-called Free French.”
Stimson nearly said aloud then that Laplante was certainly going to have that last laugh but managed to keep it inside himself.
17:03 (Warsaw Time)
Saturday, May 30, 1942 ‘B’
Local Time Patrol command post
Gesia Street, Warsaw Jewish Ghetto
Poland
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Jack Crawford briefly stuck his head out of the lounge used as the command post proper and shouted at George Townsend, who was relaxing with Liliana Edelman in the nearby room.
“The celebrations are on for tomorrow, guys. Nancy will arrive at ten in the morning.”
“Good! Thanks, Jack!” Replied George before returning his attention to the holographic screen of the entertainment unit furnishing the room. His right arm, put around Liliana, resumed its discreet caresses, making the small but pretty Jewish female fighter purr with satisfaction. She had been watching with George the documentary made on the life of Yeshua of Nazareth and was finding it positively fascinating.
Watching it while snuggled close to George made it even better. The final credits were now being displayed on the screen.
“You know, George, I am anxious to finally meet Nancy Laplante tomorrow: she seems to be such a fascinating woman. With everything she did for us and others in this war, she should be called a saint, or an angel.”
George laughed softly at that.
“Nancy, a saint? She may have earned that title in a previous life but she is no saint in this life. She likes her fun too much. Let me show you.”
Grabbing the remote control of the entertainment unit, George selected one of the separate features attached to the main documentary and started playing it. Liliana read aloud the title that appeared over a picture of the Roman fortress of Antonia, in Jerusalem.
“Nauca rocks the Antonia. What does that mean, George?”
“I will let you see for yourself, Liliana.”
The meaning of the title effectively became quickly self-evident to the young Jewish woman, who reddened at one of the scenes of the feature short film: a half naked Nancy singing and dancing on the tables of the Roman refectorium while hundreds of wild Roman soldiers cheered her on.
“Wow! A few of my male comrades would certainly love to watch this.”
“I bet they would! Don’t think however that Nancy is always like this. I worked for nearly a year for her while still in the British Army and she was a very responsible officer. She still is, in fact, more than ever.”
Liliana looked up at George, uncertainty in her eyes.
“George, how long will you stay in Warsaw?”
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“I don’t know yet, Liliana. Maybe a few more days. Why?”
“Because I don’t want you to go away from me, ever.” Said the girl softly, attracting a tender look from George.
“Then, why don’t you come with me? You could enroll in the Time Patrol and have the time of your life…with me.”
“I
could?”
“Why not? Liliana, you are not only a bright girl, but also a brave girl. We need people like you. Even more importantly, I need you and want you.”
“You really mean it, George?” Said Liliana, close to tears. The British nodded his head.
“I do, Liliana. Come with me to the future, as my wife.”
Tears now coming out, Liliana answered George with a passionate kiss.
09:48 (Warsaw Time)
Sunday, May 31, 1942 ‘B’
Muranowski Square, Warsaw
Shimon Huberband, leading seven other rabbis and wearing like them a ceremonial shawl and robe, arrived a few minutes in advance of the requested time in Muranowski Square, by now well established as the landing area for ships of the Time Patrol. A group of ten armed Jewish fighters were already waiting along one side of the Square, near Jack Crawford, George Townsend, Miriam of Magdala and two other persons. Shimon smiled when he recognized the giant woman in that group and went to her, followed by his fellow rabbis.
“Miss Kano, it is a pleasure to see you again. How are you today?”
There was still a bit of a haunted look in the reporter when she turned to face him and made a weak smile. She was wearing her head-mounted camera and microphone system this morning.
“Rabbi Huberband! I feel…better. And you?”
“I am fine, miss. You are here to cover the celebrations, I suppose?”
“I am. I brought with me Mister Peter O’Neil, reporter with the London Daily Telegraph and a good friend of Nancy Laplante. He will also cover today’s events and will report on the liberation of both Warsaw and Paris.”
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“Paris has been liberated too?” Asked Huberband excitedly, getting a nod from Lori Kano.
“It was reoccupied by French troops yesterday. The German army units that had been occupying France are now nearly all back inside Germany.”
“That is great news indeed. I had a cousin in Paris. With any luck he and his family will be safe and free.”
“Excuse me, miss.” Cut in a balding, heavily bearded man behind Huberband.
“Could you tell us why we were asked to come here? We were only told that Miss Laplante would be bringing with her an old Jewish artifact that we will then escort to the Tlomackie Great Synagogue.”
Jack Crawford, listening to all this, answered for Lori.
“You will actually carry that artifact between the eight of you, Rabbi Shapiro. It is quite heavy but it is too sacred to be carried by others than Jews. Nancy Laplante will come in her best Jewish dress for the occasion.”
“Is she actually Jewish, Mister Crawford?”
“She may not be a practicing Jew but she was converted by Rabbi Yeshua in Cana in the year 30 C.E..”
“Rabbi Yeshua?” Said blankly Kalunimus Kalmish Shapiro. “That name does not ring a bell to me. Should I know about him?”
“Probably!” Replied Jack, smiling. “He is also known as Jesus Christ.”
Shapiro and the other rabbis were left speechless for a moment. Shapiro then lowered his voice.
“You better not tell this to the Christian Poles: they would hound your Nancy Laplante endlessly if they knew that.”
“Not as much as Miriam of Magdala if they realized that she is officially one of their saints, Rabbi Shapiro.”
Shapiro nodded his head while looking at the young Galilean woman, who was by now well known and appreciated by the people of the Ghetto. In fact, Miriam had come a few times to his house, which was also used as a synagogue, to pray. Miriam was resplendent in a beautifully embroidered robe of ancient manufacture. She was also holding a small boy of about one year of age that he had not seen before.
“Is this one of the orphans from the Ghetto’s Jewish orphanage, Miriam?”
“David is effectively an orphan, Rabbi Shapiro, but he is actually my son. He was in the care of another woman for the last few days while I was helping here.”
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“I am sorry to hear that, Miriam. Did his father die during this war?”
“Hardly, Rabbi! Yeshua died on the cross when David was still inside me.”
Shapiro became pale and stared at the little boy.
“The son of Jesus Christ? This could start real chaos throughout Christianity if this became known.”
“We are perfectly aware of that, Rabbi.” Said Jack Crawford before pointing an index at Peter O’Neil, who was about to take a picture of the child. “Mister O’Neil, as much as you are a favored friend of the Time Patrol, I will ask you to forget what you just heard. You know the consequences in England if you would publish something on David.”
“Hell, I realize that, but to blow such a story: the son of Jesus Christ. My editor would kill me if he ever learns that I didn’t tell him about this.”
“Well, it won’t be as painful as what Nancy would do to you if you blew that secret, mister. Talking of the devil, here is her shuttlecraft.”
Looking all skyward, they were in time to see a light shuttlecraft on its final approach to the marked landing area. It landed smoothly less than fifteen meters from their group, with its rear access ramp opening soon afterwards. Nancy Laplante, dressed in an ancient Jewish robe and headscarf, got out and signaled the rabbis to approach before going back inside. The eight rabbis, dying with curiosity, walked quickly to the foot of the ramp, where they were able to look inside the shuttlecraft. All of them immediately went to their knees, a few of them suddenly dizzy from the rush of blood to their head.
“IT…IT CAN’T BE!” Shouted Huberband, attracting at a run the ten Jewish fighters nearby, who thought that something had gone wrong. They braked to a halt and also knelt after seeing what was inside the shuttle. Zivia Lubetkin bent her head, unable to believe her eyes.
“Dear God! The Ark of the Covenant.”
Nancy, who was sliding in place the two gold-plated carrying poles in the hooks on the side of the priceless artifact, raised her voice to take the Jews out of their trance.
“It is the Ark of the Covenant, gentlemen, but it won’t get to the Great Synagogue if you stay on your knees like this.”
Shimon Huberband wiped sweat from his forehead as he got up on his feet and climbed the ramp of the shuttlecraft.
“Miss Laplante, I will always owe you for giving me such an honor as carrying the Ark. How did you get it?”
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“The Time Patrol replaced it with a replica in the Temple of Solomon just before it was occupied and looted by Egyptian raiders after Solomon’s death. One day, it will be brought back to Jerusalem, that I promise solemnly.”
“May God bless you for that, Miss Laplante.” Said Shapiro fervently. Nancy gave him a mysterious look.
“He already did, Rabbi. You will have to be careful when lifting the Ark: it is quite heavy, apart of being irreplaceable. You wouldn’t want to drop it and damage it.”
“May God save me from such a curse, miss.” Replied Shapiro, meaning it. He and the seven other rabbis then took position, four to the left of the Ark and four to the right. Grabbing the carrying poles, they synchronized their moves and lifted the Ark to their shoulders. As the rabbis went slowly and cautiously down the ramp, Nancy shouted at the Jewish fighters.
“Zivia, have your fighters form an escort on each side of the Ark. We are going to the Tlomackie Great Synagogue.”
Beaming with pride, the seven men and three women formed up around the Ark and accompanied the rabbis at a slow pace, their rifles slung. The procession then left the square, followed closely by Nancy and Miriam, walking south towards the Great Synagogue. The Jewish people either present in the streets or on the balconies above the route followed by the procession fell to their knees one after the other as the Ark passed by them. Lori Kano and Peter O’Neil, following from a respectful distance, filmed and photographed all this, themselves feeling the great solemnity of the moment. As the procession progressed towards its goal, a growing crowd of praying Jews fell behind it.
By the time the Ark was brought inside the Great Synagogue of Warsaw, over 20,000
people were close behind it, quickly packing the building to capacity.
Once inside, the eight rabbis carried the Ark to near the niche containing the sacred scrolls of the Torah and set the artifact down slowly. As they stood there, unsure what to do next, Nancy went to the chief rabbi, who was kneeling nearby and praying.
“Rabbi, I would need two large cushions, to put them in front of the Ark of the Covenant. Could you get them quickly?”
“Certainly, miss!” Replied humbly the man before getting up and walking quickly towards his office. He was back a few minutes later with two large red cushions, which Nancy took and then carefully positioned in front of the Ark. Next, she approached the Ark and stood a mere pace from it before speaking to the rabbis watching her.
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“I will now use my mental powers to open the lid of the Ark. I want you to then take very cautiously the tablets of the Law inside and to lay them on the cushions. Be very careful: the tablets are extremely fragile.”
“God, oh God, guide my hands!” Prayed fervently Huberband as Nancy
concentrated and the lid of the Ark started rising slowly in the air apparently by itself.
The congregation of Jews watching this all knelt at the sight, whispered exclamations coming from all corners of the crowd. Once the golden lid with its two cherubim was floating a good meter above the Ark, Huberband and three other rabbis bent over and slowly grabbed the two engraved stone tablets inside, taking them out and laying them gently on the cushions. Only after sighing in deep relief did Huberband kneel to examine the tablets. They truly looked very old, with the Hebrew writing on them showing extensive erosion from both time and the elements. The ten commandments of the Law were indeed written down on the stone tablets. Huberband felt unprecedented humility and devotion as he read silently the ancient Hebrew letters. Once the Ark’s lid floated down back in place and the eight rabbis stood to one side with Nancy Laplante and Miriam of Magdala, the chief rabbi initiated a series of prayers to thank God and to honor the dead. After the last prayer, he looked at Nancy while stepping back from his lectern.
“Miss Laplante, as the person who saved the sacred Ark of the Covenant and saved so many of us from death, would you like to address the congregation?”
Nancy bowed while answering in Hebrew.
“I would be honored, Rabbi Zemba.”
Walking to the lectern and taking place behind it, Nancy then spoke up in Hebrew again, since she didn’t know Yiddish nor Polish and didn’t want to use German on such an occasion.
“Fellow men and women, the reason I brought the Ark of the Covenant here was to give you hope for the future, hope for a better life for your children. I may not be a practicing Jew, or even a practicing Christian as a matter of fact, but I had the chance to have a close encounter with a superior being I call ‘The One’ and to have communicated with him a few times since then. The One is neither Jewish, Christian nor Muslim: He is there for all of us on this Earth and his message is one of peace, love and tolerance. He loves us all, especially those most innocent ones among us: our children. After I am finished speaking, I will ask you to form two single files along the central aisle, so that you can briefly approach the Ark and touch it. Before that, though, I will ask the sick and the wounded to form a line in the middle of the central aisle, children first, where I will 798
use the healing powers The One gave me in the past. I will ask the rabbis and Jewish fighters who brought and escorted the Ark here to organize the processions and keep order during this most solemn occasion, when you will be able to touch part of your faith.
After this ceremony, you are all invited to the Muranowski Square, where a feast is being prepared to celebrate this joyous day. I will now finish this speech with a solemn promise: one day soon, the Ark will be brought back to Jerusalem, where it will regain a place of prominence as a sacred artifact. The sick and the wounded may now form up in the central aisle.”
Nancy then walked away from the lectern, heading to a position ten paces in front of the Ark, facing the central aisle. The first patient who came to her was a small boy of about six who walked with a pair of crutches. Nancy smiled gently to him, caressing his head.
“What is your name, little one? What is the nature of your wound?”
“My name is Jacob, miss. A German soldier smashed my left knee a few weeks ago. Can you help me?”
“Of course I can, Jacob. Please sit down, so I can examine your knee.”
As the boy sat, Nancy noticed that many more children were already lined up behind Jacob. She felt discouragement for a moment, knowing how draining healing was on her. She however resolved to give everything she had to her task and, pulling up the boy’s left trouser leg, applied her hands to his knee and concentrated. Exclamations of surprise and awe came from the two files of worshippers passing by her to go touch the Ark as her hands glowed lightly for a minute. More exclamations came out when little Jacob, transported with joy, got up without the help of his crutches and hugged Nancy happily.
“My knee doesn’t hurt anymore. You are an angel.”
“No, Jacob: I am only a woman. Go see the Ark with your parents now.”
An old man that had watched the healing bowed and spoke with a tone of respect.
“The Hand of God! She is The Hand of God!”
Soon, most of the worshippers were repeating this, making Nancy blush with modesty.
Trying to ignore the comments around her, she concentrated totally on healing one by one the long line of waiting children. After the seventh patient, she had to stop for a moment, mentally exhausted by her efforts. Looking down the line of children, she saw that over a hundred of them were still waiting for her care. Tears of discouragement came to her eyes.
“Great One, there is so much to do and only so much I can do.”
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A powerful voice then echoed inside her head.
“Do not lose faith, Natai, as I am with you. Stand up and be one with me.”
Watched by the curious worshippers, who had not heard the message she had just received, she stood up and closed her eyes while extending her arms out. A column of intense white light then came through the roof of the synagogue without damaging it, landing squarely on Nancy and bathing her in its light. Nancy herself soon started emitting an increasingly bright light while she levitated off the ground, until no one could look directly at her. A silent explosion of light then burst out of her, radiating outward at hypersonic speed. The expanding wall of light simply went through the persons present, without knocking them down but bathing them in light as well for a few seconds before the light faded away. The frightened Jews inside the synagogue then saw that Nancy was still floating a few meters in the air and radiating light, her eyes closed as if sleeping.
Exclamations and shouts then started coming from the ones who had been waiting to be healed by her. Rabbi Menahem Zemba, getting over his surprise, ran to them and saw that all of them now appeared perfectly healthy. An old man who had been sitting away from the aisle took out his glasses and looked around with bewilderment.
“My eyes! They are as good as when I was young.”
Rabbi Zemba soon understood from the reactions of the people inside the synagogue that everyone present was now in perfect health, even the survivors from the death camps, who had been barely more than skin and bones. Those now looked much stronger, with their cheeks full and their back straight. Overwhelmed by all this, Zemba looked up at Nancy Laplante, who was still floating in the air and radiating light.
“She really is The Hand of God. May God be praised for sending her.”
In Muranowski Square, Jack Crawford was talking with General Grot-Rowecki, head of the Polish Home Army, while a small army of Polish volunteers, both Jews and Catholics, were busy preparing the public feast announced for the early afternoon by the Time Patrol. A shout of alarm from Natia Mindicor made him turn around while grabbing his rifle. He barely had time to see an approaching wall of energy before it went right through him and the others in the square. Shaking his head quickly to regain control of himself, he turned around again and watched the giant wall of energy as it swept outward, apparently in the process of covering the whole of Warsaw.
“What the hell was that?” He asked himself. “It came from inside the Ghetto.”
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Shouts of surprise from a number of people around the square then made him realize that something very big had just happened.
On the scoutship LATIN STING, flying east of Warsaw and over the Polish-Soviet border, a sudden alarm made Samuel Goldman look at his sensors. What he saw made him shout with urgency to Carmen Sanchez, sitting behind him in her pilot’s seat.
“An energy shockwave is approaching the border, originating from Warsaw.”
“What? What kind of energy? Is it a nuclear blast?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think that this is a nuclear strike. I see no destruction in its path.”
Both watched, fascinated, as the wall of energy finally died down and disappeared after sweeping across the border. Samuel shook his head with disbelief.
“Whatever it was, it covered a radius of just over 400 kilometers out from Warsaw. Nearly the whole of Poland was covered by it.”
“Well, it looks like it’s time to contact our team in Warsaw.” Said Carmen, activating her radio.
The horse-drawn carts and wagons of the field hospital from one of the divisions of the German Fourth Army had just crossed the border, heading slowly towards Germany through Poland with its load of wounded soldiers, when the wall of energy swept through them. Their convoy was only one of many German convoys retreating back from the Eastern front, pursued by vengeful Soviet troops. Only the sacrifice of the German panzer divisions, including those from the Waffen-SS, who were fighting to provide a covering screen to the rest of the German units, had made possible the escape of most of the Wehrmacht troops from the Soviet Union. The Germans in the medical convoy, doctors, nurses and patients alike, counted themselves lucky to be still alive. Seeing the wall of energy approaching fast, the drivers of the wagon tried to turn around their horses in a reflexive but futile at