“Do you suppose, Al, that his appointment is not just happenstance? I remember the things that were said about him several years ago. He was just a crazy leftist kid, then he went to India. Got his wild oats out of his system, I suppose, and came back the very soul of moderation. If there was ever anybody on a greased track for the vice presidency, it was Mark Beaulieu. Valery puts Benares in as chief of staff—then Beaulieu.” James Wong scratched his head and added, almost as an afterthought, “It’s also apparent that our leader is about ten steps from the funny farm. Al, I don’t like any of it.”

Al Augustus’s expression became very serious. “Jimmy, do you believe in God?”

James Wong was surprised by the suddenness of the question. “What do you mean? Why that? I’ve believed in money most of my life—not much time for religion.”

“Sure, Jimmy,” Al went on. “I know that’s your front. But I sense something else. Something that goes beyond the polish, the Chinese character, and the smell of money.”

“Not much use in putting up a front anymore, is there? When you die, a front dies with you. When I was a boy in China, a Christian missionary who spoke Chinese introduced me to God. At that time I asked Jesus to come into my life. From the way I’ve lived since then, though, no one would ever have guessed it. But if you’re serious, Al, yes, I believe.”

A tear ran down Al Augustus’s cheek. He was mentally and physically exhausted. Millions were dead, but to him had been entrusted the care of the survivors. Only by his foresight and leadership had the lives of tens of thousands of men, women, and children been spared. He could not carry the burden by himself anymore.

“I’ve never told anybody about this, not even my wife. But our stories are much the same. When I was ten years old, in a summer church program, I invited Jesus into my heart. Since I became an adult, my ‘religion’ has been running companies and being a player in public affairs. But with the turn things have taken in the past two days, Jimmy, all that stuff has come back to me, and I have a gut feeling I had better renew my vows while there’s still time. I can’t speak for you, but I have a feeling we’re going to need all the help we can get from here on out.”

Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

UNTIL THAT WEEKEND, NO ONE during the nineteen hundred and seventy years since the time of Jesus had ever witnessed a sea gone mad; no one had ever seen the destruction that would take place on earth when just a small piece of the heavens was shaken loose.