Judas' Gospel

Chapter 1

PART I

THE AGGRESSION

That morning there was a beautiful sun, Nicole had set the table in the garden. She placed the breakfast tray on the table and sat in front of Judas, without stopping to stare at him with an enigmatic smile on her face. He had noticed that in recent days his wife had something different in her gaze, like a particular light shining at the bottom of her big dark eyes, but he couldn’t explain why.

“Why aren’t you eating?” she teased him amused, seeing him perplexed, he shook himself. “I have decided that until you tell me what you have, I’ll not move from here. So this morning I’ll be late for work and I’ll take a good rebuke … and know that it will only be your fault!” he replied pointing a finger at her, but he didn’t seem as serious as he wanted. She continued to smile amused without answering, while a light wind ruffled her long straight ebony hair. Jodie ran to them and jumped into her mother’s arms.

“So, can we finally tell him?” she asked her.

“Yes, come on,” Nicole replied, giving her a knowing glance “it’s time for him to know too!”

“What do you have to tell me?” he then said, wriggling in his chair, more and more impatient.

The little girl broke away from her mother and approached him very slowly, to intrigue him a little more.

“I’ll have a little brother,” she whispered in his ear. For a moment he had the feeling that time had stopped, he looked for confirmation in Nicole’s eyes because he was not sure he understood correctly. She nodded convinced and he became suddenly absorbed, lowered his head and began to eat, without getting upset. At the end of breakfast, Jodie and Nicole cleared the table and went back into the house, Judas darkened all the windows and joined them in the living room. Only then could they finally let themselves go to their explosion of joy, away from prying eyes and being careful not to make too much noise. In fact, in the year 2178, those who manifested their emotions too openly were not highly appreciated by the authorities.

Judas was employed as a reporter at the small local newspaper, he was one of those journalists who go in search of sensational news, in the strangest places and times. He was well aware that his business was not as exciting as that of his former colleagues, but he enjoyed the job very much. The long night watches and stalking no longer existed because each event had been experienced in real time, but he was convinced that, if he worked hard, he would always be able to find something to write a good article about. Along the way he stopped to buy a couple of bottles of “the good one”, to share that fantastic news with his colleagues, but even there the celebrations were limited to a quiet toast and a few cold handshakes.

That evening, to celebrate the event, Judas booked a table in an upscale restaurant. Nicole was enthusiastic about those fish-based dishes, in particular she really liked the first fruits served as a side dish, grown on the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea. Intoxicated by the euphoria enhanced by the bluish, sparkling and slightly salty wine, they indulged in a whole series of projects on the child. They told each other he would be handsome, strong, and intelligent. Maybe an artist, or even a scientist. To end the evening with a flourish, they went to the Total Cinema, where they lived an Interactive Story as protagonists.

Back home they spent the rest of the night making love, drunk with happiness, until they fell asleep tightly.

Shortly after everyday life took over, the following weeks passed peacefully between boat trips and sport, Judas’ work and Nicole’s Dynamic Painting exhibitions, which was the best in that kind of artistic representations. Her belly kept growing and he spent hours looking at her and caressing her, talking to her, or just listening to her as if it were his first time each time. Sometimes, during the preparation of the child’s room, they enchanted themselves staring into each other’s eyes, getting lost in one another, until they felt one.

The sheet came out of the printer accompanied by a short hum, after a jump of a few centimeters it went to settle gently in the binder. Dr. Lorentz turned off the equipment and collected it, then examined the data very carefully.

“You have nothing to fear ma’am, everything is going very well. The parameters are all within the norm, and there is even something more: from the analysis of the genetic heritage it is clear that your son, in addition to being practically perfect from a biological point of view, will be endowed with excellent intellectual and moral qualities.”

The doctor was rather short and stout, had a pockmarked face and lips as plump as a woman’s. His small, close eyes, evasive as if he were always looking away, reminded Nicole of a mouse’s. She overcame a kind of repugnance and rewarded him with a wonderful smile, shaking his hand, then left the clinic.

The doctor made sure that the waiting room was empty, then went back to the office and typed the combination on the panel next to the door. The door closed and locked, he reached the desk and pressed a button hidden under a marble paperweight. A two-meter high mirror slid sideways along a guide in the floor, opening the view to a small hidden room. Inside was a man leaning out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back and he was watching Nicole walk away down the street. Step by step she became a smaller and smaller splash of color, until she merged with the sleepy city traffic. The man slowly turned to scrutinize the doctor, expressing a silent but precise request with his ice-colored eyes.

“You have been able to see with your own eyes, Excellency!” he answered satisfied. “Physically he embodies perfection, plus you know his bio-moral data better than I do. It is undoubtedly one of the best specimens, if not the best ever, of all the ones we have reviewed. His qualities are marvelously elevated both from an intellectual point of view and from a moral, character and aesthetic point of view” he specified. Sir Jonathan nodded gravely and nervously smoothed his strand of his hairs white as the snow, becoming thoughtful. He had personally studied the reports on all the specimens studied and his conclusions coincided perfectly with those of Dr. Lorentz, but he wanted a further, useless, confirmation.

“Are you really sure that that woman is fit for purpose? I would prefer not to delude myself in vain, rather than find myself holding a handful of flies when we have reached a too advanced phase of the Project. At that point it would no longer be possible to change the target,” he explained once again. In response, the other just smiled smugly. The Elder folded his hands behind his back, then lowered his chin to his chest and remained absorbed in meditation for a few moments. He was finally able to reap the first fruits of the long years of his work, all those years spent preparing that enterprise that represented the only purpose of his whole life. He had imagined living that moment thousands of times, he had always thought that this wonderful news would have reached the depths of his soul until it touched his most hidden chords, thrilling him.

“Good! It’s the piece we were missing,” he commented instead simply, marveling even himself at his own coldness. It was as if that little big victory had been the most natural thing in the world, as if he had always known that sooner or later that moment would come, but the knowledge that the obstacles to overcome were still many prevented him from enjoying it as he would wanted. He knew that for a long time to come he would have to spend all his energy in achieving his goal, never getting distracted or letting his guard down.

“The final phase of Project Heaven will finally begin shortly,” said to the doctor.

“I think convincing the woman won’t be easy,” the latter ventured timidly. He knew well how powerful and sensitive the Elder was, he had chosen his words carefully because he absolutely did not intend to make him nervous.

“It will be much simpler than you think. After all, we will offer her something great in exchange for a very small sacrifice.”

The doctor remarked his doubts with a puzzled glance, and then a flash of determination passed through Sir Jonathan’s eyes, making them even livelier, if possible.

“She will accept, one way or another!” he abruptly closed the conversation.

The three Lords of the Order, swaddled in their tight-fitting uniforms, darted out of the parking lot laughing and joking as if they were going to a party. The car’s headlights were reflected on the shiny asphalt, made slippery by the gloomy drizzle.

“Another day of hunting, huh?” said the driver.

“Yeah,” the Patrol Leader, seated beside him, replied absently, still polishing his badge.

“And I wish this time it was really the last!” he added after checking it against the light, to make sure there were no halos.

“When will you stop torturing that poor piece of iron?” Nick teased him, leaning towards him from the back seat.

“When even your “poor metal piece” will be golden like this,” Joe replied placing the medallion under his nose, so that he could admire it, “and you will be missing six days in retirement like me, you will see how you will torture it you too. Smell it, feel how it smells of freedom!”

Fabien, the driver, had a thin and nervous body. The narrow shoulders supported the perfectly round head, over which the potato nose protruded quite clearly. His long arms held the steering wheel firmly, his slightly protruding green eyes scanned with attention every inch of the road.

“It’s a pity that once again everything will be resolved with nothing done. I’d be really curious to see the devastating effects of this weapon live, rather than in the stupid simulations of the course,” he said, bringing one hand to the gun he kept fastened to his belt. “But unfortunately, or perhaps luckily, we will never have the opportunity,” he concluded, mimicking with the thumb and index finger of his right hand the gesture of firing at an imaginary target.

“That’s right,” Joe agreed with the expression of an old wise man, “once again the bad guy on duty, after insulting us and keeping high the suspense for a couple of hours, will come out whimpering and crawling. No one will get hurt and people will applaud satisfied, because once again Good will has defeated Evil. Everyone will go home happily ever after except us, who will continue to swear because we will have missed the Super Bowl. And as if all this weren’t enough, tonight I was supposed to celebrate my sixtieth wedding anniversary and as always I’ll back home too late. Also this year my wife will shout in my face that I love my job more than she loves her, and as usual she will threaten me with her rolling pin.”

“Hey you, slow down or we’ll get a nice speeding ticket,” Nick ordered Fabien jokingly, in order to play down the situation. Despite all their certainties, as they approached the intervention site they were beginning to feel increase the tension. The three laughed heartily, gritty. Then the boy took the microphone of the radio and brought it to his mouth with measured gestures, performing in the parody of the character of an almost two hundred years old film. Nick and Joe laughed again.