Rise of the Beast (29 page)

“I’m sure that weakness will pass,” said Lusan. “God performs complete healings, not partial ones.”

“But where did you get this power?” asked Julien. “I’ve never seen a true miracle, that is, until this evening. There is no other way to explain it. Look, I’m not a bad man, but I’m not a religious man either.”

Lusan laughed, placing his hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Oh Julian, I don’t ask you to be a religious man; neither does God. You have it right, my friend. You need but be a good man, and you are that, a very good man. But now God does ask something of you. He asks you to stand bold and resume the course. Too many people in Europe have lost faith. It is my task to help them find that
faith. It is your task to bring peace and prosperity to them. You know what this is leading to, do you not?”

Julien nodded. “Yes, I think so. For the first time there is to be a real president of the European Union. It will still be a figurehead position, really, the union is too loosely knit. But whoever holds it will have the eyes of the world upon him. You want me to run for the position, don’t you?”

“Not me, but God,” replied Lusan. “Indeed, before Adrian’s sickness you desired it. Desiring it is not wrong; it is essential. You must pull this continent’s people together, Julien. Europeans must be as one. You have a gentle and just heart. No one else can do this thing. A thousand years from now, your children’s descendants shall point to this day and say this is when and where it started. This is when Earth’s people began to act as one, act for the common good.”

“You seem so sure of what I should do,” replied Julien. “I don’t even know.”

“I think the time has come for me to reveal something to you,” said Lusan. “It is a thing that only a handful of people know. But you must swear to keep my secret. It is a thing that humanity is not ready to know. But you must know it. You must know that the goal you strive for is a higher calling. Do I have your word, Julian?”

“Yes, of course,” replied Julien.

Lusan rose from his seat and stood away from the table. In a second his form had changed from one of a middle-aged man to a winged angel in white. Never had Julien seen a being so beautiful. He sat there in stunned silence.

“Now you know how it is that I know of God’s intentions in such detail. I have stood before Him, heard His words. I’ve been sent here to guide humanity through this dark time. You must take command. With the light of knowledge in hand, you must start humanity on the long journey into the light. No other man can do it. You are God’s man, like Abraham, Moses, or Jesus.”

“How can I be like Jesus?” asked Julien. “Isn’t He the Son of God?”

“Yes,” confirmed Lusan, “and so are you. You need to allow God to perfect you. You need to be sensitive to His will.” Lusan assumed the appearance of a middle-aged man once more. “Are you ready to open the way to a bright future?”

“I am,” confirmed Julien. “Let’s get started.”

By the next morning the airwaves and papers were filled with the events that had occurred in the Stade Vélodrome the evening before in front of tens of thousands of people. It was inexplicable. In addition, it had been watched by millions on television.

Julien and his son were mobbed by the media. In but 24 hours, Adrien had regained his equilibrium and was running about the house and on the beach as he had before the terrible affliction had befallen him. Doctors confirmed that he had suffered no ill effects from his bout with a supposedly incurable disease. They sought to find a logical and reasonable explanation for what had happened, but there was none—that is, none beyond the invisible hand of God.

Even the usually reserved Joan was proclaiming the greatness of the new messiah, Lusan. Lusan had found a pair of new converts.

A week later, Julien Devereux announced that he would be a candidate for the president of the European Union after all. As soon as he, Joan, and his son had an opportunity to go on an African safari, he would begin actively campaigning for the office. Even with his late entry into the race, the best polls showed Julien with a 15-point lead over his nearest rival.

And Lusan’s European tour went on. Dozens of cameras had caught the miracle of Adrien Devereux. It was played again and again for the world to see.

In Paris, Lusan spoke to a packed house. In Hamburg, people practically fell over each other to get a glimpse of this man with healing in his hands. In each country, in every city where he spoke, the attendees did not walk away disappointed. Miracles followed Lusan even more so than they had during his American tour.

In a continent whose churches had been practically empty for so long, the new spiritual zeal was a thing of wonder to behold. Rumors and evidence of all manner of miracles spread far and wide.

By the time Lusan’s European crusade was complete, he had become the most talked about spiritual leader in the past thousand years. He had filled stadium after stadium with people who shared one thing in common; they were searching for spiritual meaning to their lives.

And following Lusan came other people from his organization—church organizers who established congregations across the continent, some within the walls of previously abandoned Christian churches. This New Age faith was sweeping Europe like an unquenchable wildfire. Yet it was not a fire that was kindled only in the hearts of agnostics and atheists. It fed upon disenchanted Christians, Muslims, and Jews—those who could not find peace with the faith of their youth. Now, Lusan had given them something to believe in, and they would cling to it.

Yet the new faith had its detractors as well. The aging Pope denounced him for preaching that man could be saved by his own works, for failing to recognize that only through God’s Son Jesus was there salvation. Yet nowhere was that opposition as strong as in the community of what many branded the fundamentalist Christians. To them, Lusan was a false prophet, perhaps even the false prophet spoken of in the Book of Revelation.

They even questioned the validity of the miracles he had performed. Perhaps Satan was casting out Satan. Perhaps his ministry was a gambit aimed at securing power and prestige for his kingdom. If this was true, it had been an effective strategy.

Many new converts believed the Christians were taking a sour grapes philosophy. The fruits of their great leaders paled in comparison to what Lusan had provided a spiritually hungry world. The great revival that had filled the Christian Church just two years ago was fading, overshadowed by this new ministry. Indeed, resentment was beginning to build against the Church even as congregations waned.

Lusan was in his glory. His plans were proceeding better than he had dared to hope. Perhaps he would never be a prince of Heaven, but he might well be a Prince of the Earth. Prince of this world—the Christians had long referred to him as such. How very ironic. It was an undeserved title until now. His physical form had been trapped in the middle of Outer Darkness on the world of Hell for thousands of years. He was unable to ascend to an earthly throne.

Prince of this Earth—he liked the sound of it. First he would need to see to it that Julien Devereux ascended to the throne of Europe. Then he would investigate the possibility of assuming an even higher office. Perhaps he would fulfill their prophecy yet.

C
HAPTER
12

Chris and Serena were at a citywide revival at the State Coliseum in Jackson, Mississippi, when word reached them of the goings on at the Stade Vélodrome in Marseilles. They felt so helpless. They were certain that Lusan’s miracles were not authentic. It was more like Satan casting out Satan. Still, he was producing signs and wonders for the people to see, and millions of people were moving into his camp, buying the spiritual snake oil he was selling.

During the eight years of their ministry, they had prayed with so many people. They’d prayed for their salvation, answers to problems, and even healing. Yet they had never seen the kind of miracles that Lusan was producing. They doubted that anyone had. Yes, the world was looking for miraculous signs and wonders, and if Lusan seemed to have a monopoly on them, the people would flock to him.

Tomorrow was the last day of the citywide crusade. There would easily be 5,000 people in attendance. If only God would move in that meeting in a mighty way. They needed a world-class miracle about now. Yes, they were seeing lives changed at this revival. They were seeing people giving their hearts to Christ for the first time, while still others were rededicating themselves to His service. These were the really important miracles. But they needed something more. Chris and Serena prayed for it night after night. They were watching their world plunge into a dark hole, a pit of ignorance, yet there was nothing that they could do, at least not yet.

The last days, the thing they had warned so many people about for so long, was finally coming to pass. If only there was some way around this tragedy, but there wasn’t. It had been building for the entire history of humanity on Earth. Their only hope was to appeal to a higher power. There was no help to be found here on Earth.

Serena awoke from a bed of moss in a cool, misty forest. She looked about. In the high treetops she could see the light of the morning sun reflected in the branches. She rose to her feet. She was still barefoot and in her nightgown. She was hardly prepared for a walk in the woods. But wait, this place was familiar. She’d been here before several months ago.

“Chris?” she called out. There was no reply.

A moment later she heard a branch snap. Someone was moving out there in the mists. Serena grew very quiet.

“Serena,” said a voice from the mists. It was a woman’s voice and a familiar one at that.

“I’m over here,” said Serena. “Is that you, Claire?” “Sure is,” said the voice.

Serena could see an outline emerge from the mists. Yet it was not one, but two people. A few seconds later, Claire stood before her. She was decked out all in white and had a young black child who appeared to be about 12 at her side. Like Serena, the young man was in his pajamas.

“It’s good to see you again,” said Serena.

“Oh, same here, dear,” said Claire, giving Serena a hug. “Oh, and this is my good friend, Mark. He’s from Mississippi.”