The Atua Man: A Novel

Tony and Gary sauntered beneath the tall sycamores of Collingham Gardens—the Ministry’s walled oasis in the heart of the city. Tony was still keyed up from his confrontation with Jason, and Gary, his tight suit bulging where his cell phone and gun were, reassured him that his tactics were right for the situation.

“I’ve seen what mobs can do,” Tony said. “All press is propaganda. It’s manipulative and designed for one purpose, to make money from controversy. Jason has been smart. He invited the press to witness his first healing experiments and won them to his side. But he will flush that all down the toilet with one mocking statement from good old Teddy Spencer, that paragon of truth who always gets the last word.”

The two men sat down at a bench framed by a large bush of bleeding hearts. The fog had lifted and the day had turned into a dull overcast repeat of the past week. The autumn leaves were almost gone and the trees and bushes seemed as dull as the air. An overflying jet bound for Heathrow briefly interrupted the pause in Tony’s rant.

“I’m right,” Tony said. “Not only was Lillian evasive and rude, Jason lied when he said he was meditating. He wasn’t at the board meeting because he wasn’t at the compound. Jason is going to destroy the ministry!” He looked back at the gothic windows of the St. John’s apartment with a mix of envy and righteous fury.

“If he can disappear and appear somewhere else like something out of Star Trek, and certain people learn of it, he’ll disappear forever,” Gary said. “I can guarantee that he didn’t leave the compound by any normal route. You know that our security is impeccable.”

“You agree that we’re doing the right thing keeping him out of the public’s eye?”

Gary shrugged and got up. Tony followed him to the far end of the garden, out of sight of the compound. They sat on another bench in the middle of a small forest of plane trees growing inside the walls. The huge crowds in front of Stanford House and the hum of chanting voices seemed like a distant memory of another place. Here all was quiet and the birdsong reminded Tony of the simplicity of life.

“The thing is,” Gary said breaking the silence, “the people I know would never believe something like this unless they saw it. But if they thought it was possible, they’d find a way to isolate him and learn how he does it.”

“We have to control Jason for his own good.”

“I don’t like the television symposium that Barbara and Melanie are planning,” Gary stated. He rarely gave his opinion on ministry policy, keeping his input to security issues, but he felt the day’s events changed all of that. “My only hope is that it shifts focus away from whatever Jason is doing to something that can be easily explained to the people.”

“What options do we have? We can’t go back to being a foundation like Melanie believes. We’re passed that already. This hospital thing brings us into the world of faith and belief,” Tony said. “What if the Pope had done what he did?”

“We can only assume that Mr. St. John did it,” Gary argued.

“Oh, he did it alright. If the public perceives that Jason St. John can appear out of the blue and heal them, then St. John becomes a god and our organization dies.”

“If the Pope had done what Mr. St. John did, we’d all become Catholics,” Gary said.

“And the Curia would declare him the Second Coming and kill him.” Tony got up, walked over to a tall plane tree, leaned against it and looked back at his head of security, deciding if he should voice what he was thinking. “I know you keep abreast of the groups that could adversely affect Jason and our ministry, like the antichrist mob.”

Gary nodded. “Part of my training is to know my enemy.”

“And keep that enemy closer to you than your friends?

“Something like that.”

We can’t let the mob make Jason a martyr.” Tony bent down and watched a beetle carry a leaf across the gravel path.

“What if the crowds grow significantly larger and more violent?” Gary asked. “Do we pressure him to cut back his appearances and not leave the compound for security reasons?”

“He won’t put up with that,” Tony stood and looked Gary in the eyes. “He’s fighting every restriction already. Even if it’s for his own good. Knowing Jason the way I do, the more we try to control him, the more reckless he’ll become. He doesn’t realize how much he is endangering himself and his family. He has that kind of a personality. He could even get killed.”

Gary looked away. Having read Tony’s body language, he sensed that Tony was confirming his own beliefs.

“This could be the beginning of a new religion,” Gary said mostly to himself.

“You need a prophet to start a religion,” Tony declared.

Gary nodded. He believed in Mr. St. John like he believed in Christ. Shouldn’t that belief be more than a set of principles? Shouldn’t you give yourself body, mind, and soul to your savior? Jason St. John was his savior; Gary would give his life for him. But would Mr. St. John do the same? All this spun around in Gary’s mind as he stared off at the well-pruned shrubs and manicured lawn.

Interrupting Gary’s thoughts, Tony continued, “And that prophet needs to go away before a religion can take hold.”

Gary turned and saw fire in Tony’s eyes.

“So, you’d replace the ministry with a religion?” Gary wanted confirmation that he wasn’t alone in his thinking.

Tony projected humility. “If necessary. You can belong to a religion. If the organization remains a nonprofit trust,” words spoken with an air of distain, “all that Jason has given the world will die. Do you know why? Because there is no commitment from the people, there’s no community—nothing. Everything will just fade away.”

Gary sighed deeply. His mind spun. His training, his instincts, and his love for what Jason St. John had done for him collided with the reality of what Tony was proposing. Finally Gary said, “I’ll put some things in motion. But we need some new ground rules.”

“Okay.” Tony realized how right he was about Gary. He got the same feeling in his stomach that he use to get when he began a hostile takeover.

“We’re never to be seen alone together,” Gary continued. “I won’t tell you anything about my plans. You will have total deniability if things go wrong. I’ll be the fall guy. If you try to interfere or manage what I’m doing, I’ll resign from the board. I think you’re right, but from now on I’m solely responsible for Mr. St. John’s safety.”

“What about our current calendar? What about the board vote to create a TV forum to discuss apparitions?” Tony asked.

“That’s all your area. I’ll support you on the board as I always have, but with the increased crowds, which I think will only grow, I won’t have time for anything but Mr. St. John’s security.”

“I need to expand the board,” Tony said. “We need people who see things the way we do. Will you support me in that?”

“Absolutely,” Gary said.

“And I need something on Theodore Spencer. He stuck his nose where it doesn’t belong and I’d like it cut off.”

“I’ll see what I can dig up.”

Gary walked away, pulling his Blackberry from its belt holder and speed dialing a contact.

Tony sat down on a nearby bench and tried to keep doubt from flooding his mind. He wondered if he could really pull this off. His passion was promoting the healing principles Jason had revealed to the world. To do that he needed a stable organization and Jason’s actions were not helping. The Ministry will change one way or another, he thought, and Tony needed to direct that change.