the earth had toppled before. The Bible talks of the sun rising in the west, and of the seas tipping from their bowls. And it did. My God, it did!'
The old man lapsed into silence. 'How did you survive?' asked Shannow.
Karitas blinked and grinned suddenly. 'I was in a magical metal bird, flying high above the waves.'
'It was a serious question.'
'I know. But I don't want to talk any more about those days.'
'Just one small question,' said Shannow. 'It is important to me.'
'Just the one,' agreed the old man.
'Would there have been a black road with diamonds at the centre, shining in the night?'
'Diamonds? Ah yes, all the roads had them. Why do you ask?'
'Would they have been at Jerusalem?'
'Yes. Why?'
'It is the city I am seeking. And if Noah's Ark is on a mountain near here, Jerusalem cannot be far away.'
'Are you mocking me, Shannow?'
'No. I seek the Holy City.'
Karitas held his hands out to the fire, staring thoughtfully into the flames. All men needed a dream, he knew. Shannow more than most.
'What will you do when you find it?'
'I will ask questions and receive answers.'
'And then what?'
'I shall die happy, Karitas.'
'You're a good man, Shannow. I hope you make it.'
'You doubt I will?'
'Not at all. If Jerusalem exists, you will find it. And if it doesn't you'll never know, for you'll look until you die. That's how it should be. I feel that way about Heaven; it's far more important that Heaven should exist than that I should ever see it.'
'In my dream, they would not let me enter. They told me to come back when the wolf sits down with the lamb, and the lion eats grass like the cattle do.'
'Get some sleep, Jon. Dream of it again. I went there once, you know. To Jerusalem. Long before the Fall.'
'Was it beautiful?'
Karitas remembered the chokingly narrow streets in the old quarter, the stink of bazaars . . . the tourist areas, the tall hotels, the pickpockets and the car bombs.
'Yes,' he said. 'It was beautiful. Good night, Jon.'
Karitas sat in his long cabin, his mood heavy and dark. He knew that Shannow would never believe the truth, but then why should he? Even in his own age of technological miracles there had still been those who believed that the earth was flat, or that Man was made by a benevolent bearded immortal out of a lump of clay. At least Shannow had a solid fact to back his theory of Armageddon. The world had come close to death.
There had been a lot of speculation in the last years about the possibility of a nuclear holocaust.
But next to no one had considered Nature herself dwarfing the might of the superpowers. What was it that scientist had told him five years after the Fall?
The Chandler Theory? Karitas had a note somewhere from the days when he had studiously kept a diary. The old man moved into the back room and began to rummage through oak chests covered in beaver pelts. Underneath a rust-dark and brittle copy of the London Times he found the faded blue jackets of his diary collection, and below those the scraps of paper he had used for close to forty years. Useless, he thought, remembering the day when his last pencil had grown too small to sharpen. He pushed aside the scraps and searched through his diaries, coming at last to an entry for May 16. It was six years after the Fall. Strange how the memory fades after only a few centuries, he told himself with a grin. He read the entry and leaned back, remembering old Webster and his moth-eaten wig.
It was the ice at the poles, Webster had told him, increasing at the rate of 95, 000 tons a day, slowly changing the shape of the earth from spheroid to ovoid. This made the spin unstable. Then came the day when mighty Jupiter and all the other major planets drew into a deadly line to exert their gravitational pull on the earth, along with that of the sun. The earth - already wobbling on its axis - toppled, bringing tidal waves and death and a new Ice Age for much of the hemisphere.
Armageddon? God the father moving from homilies
The old man lapsed into silence. 'How did you survive?' asked Shannow.
Karitas blinked and grinned suddenly. 'I was in a magical metal bird, flying high above the waves.'
'It was a serious question.'
'I know. But I don't want to talk any more about those days.'
'Just one small question,' said Shannow. 'It is important to me.'
'Just the one,' agreed the old man.
'Would there have been a black road with diamonds at the centre, shining in the night?'
'Diamonds? Ah yes, all the roads had them. Why do you ask?'
'Would they have been at Jerusalem?'
'Yes. Why?'
'It is the city I am seeking. And if Noah's Ark is on a mountain near here, Jerusalem cannot be far away.'
'Are you mocking me, Shannow?'
'No. I seek the Holy City.'
Karitas held his hands out to the fire, staring thoughtfully into the flames. All men needed a dream, he knew. Shannow more than most.
'What will you do when you find it?'
'I will ask questions and receive answers.'
'And then what?'
'I shall die happy, Karitas.'
'You're a good man, Shannow. I hope you make it.'
'You doubt I will?'
'Not at all. If Jerusalem exists, you will find it. And if it doesn't you'll never know, for you'll look until you die. That's how it should be. I feel that way about Heaven; it's far more important that Heaven should exist than that I should ever see it.'
'In my dream, they would not let me enter. They told me to come back when the wolf sits down with the lamb, and the lion eats grass like the cattle do.'
'Get some sleep, Jon. Dream of it again. I went there once, you know. To Jerusalem. Long before the Fall.'
'Was it beautiful?'
Karitas remembered the chokingly narrow streets in the old quarter, the stink of bazaars . . . the tourist areas, the tall hotels, the pickpockets and the car bombs.
'Yes,' he said. 'It was beautiful. Good night, Jon.'
Karitas sat in his long cabin, his mood heavy and dark. He knew that Shannow would never believe the truth, but then why should he? Even in his own age of technological miracles there had still been those who believed that the earth was flat, or that Man was made by a benevolent bearded immortal out of a lump of clay. At least Shannow had a solid fact to back his theory of Armageddon. The world had come close to death.
There had been a lot of speculation in the last years about the possibility of a nuclear holocaust.
But next to no one had considered Nature herself dwarfing the might of the superpowers. What was it that scientist had told him five years after the Fall?
The Chandler Theory? Karitas had a note somewhere from the days when he had studiously kept a diary. The old man moved into the back room and began to rummage through oak chests covered in beaver pelts. Underneath a rust-dark and brittle copy of the London Times he found the faded blue jackets of his diary collection, and below those the scraps of paper he had used for close to forty years. Useless, he thought, remembering the day when his last pencil had grown too small to sharpen. He pushed aside the scraps and searched through his diaries, coming at last to an entry for May 16. It was six years after the Fall. Strange how the memory fades after only a few centuries, he told himself with a grin. He read the entry and leaned back, remembering old Webster and his moth-eaten wig.
It was the ice at the poles, Webster had told him, increasing at the rate of 95, 000 tons a day, slowly changing the shape of the earth from spheroid to ovoid. This made the spin unstable. Then came the day when mighty Jupiter and all the other major planets drew into a deadly line to exert their gravitational pull on the earth, along with that of the sun. The earth - already wobbling on its axis - toppled, bringing tidal waves and death and a new Ice Age for much of the hemisphere.
Armageddon? God the father moving from homilies
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