The Newton Prophecies

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"But please," DiBianco said, "let us return attention to our friend, Isaac Newton."
         "Professor, really," Crystal cried, "you can't just leave us hanging like that ... it's just plain, well, evil!"
         "I know," he said with a smirk. "Don't fret, I'll not leave you hanging for very long."
         DiBianco found his place in the book of Daniel and continued. "Daniel 12, verse 6 quotes a question voiced by a man who stood on the bank of a river within Daniel's vision. This man spoke to the Lord--also in the vision--asking, How long shall it be to the end of these wonders? And the Lord, who stood upon the surface of the river, rose his hands to the heavens and spoke, swearing by the Almighty who lives forever, that it shall be for a time, times, and a half of time.
         "What does that mean?" DiBianco asked the class. But they remained speechless. Not even a whisper nor a whimper could be heard. The tiny lightbulbs, DiBianco often imagined hovering above their heads while pondering the topics of the day, suddenly dimmed...
         "No one?"
         ...then flickered out completely.
         "Well, Newton believed he had the answer."
         "How could he?" A young man said. "The phrase makes absolutely no sense."
         "Newton's genius went far beyond just science, my friend. His Biblical research shows compelling evidences contrary to mainstream belief; a few of his findings were so profound, that some religious sects might even kill to avoid awareness of them."
         Crystal gazed at DiBianco, her eyes beaming, her youthful rose-like visage perplexed. "How can you possibly know this?" Her voice was confident.
         "Sorry?"
         "If The Church would kill to keep these findings secret, then please explain, Professor, how could anyone possibly know? The Church is very--"
         "First off," he interrupted, shaken by the direction the question was headed. "I never said The Church, which most of us would concur is referring to the Roman Catholic Church. I said, some religious sects might even kill to avoid awareness.
         "Honestly, the majority of Newton's work serves to support claims of divine intervention. Newton believed that science and God could not be separated; he believed the more we learn about science, the closer we become to God.
         "In the last few years, a mighty floodlight has been shed on Newton--not the scientist, but the man, and the spirit driving him. I've always been, shall I say, a bit of a fan--"
         The class chuckled. They knew when it came to Isaac Newton, Professor DiBianco was on the brink of obsession.
         "When I first heard about the writings he scribbled on the topic of God and his lifelong studies of the Bible, I became intrigued.
         "I had just begun work on God Science and the prospect of Isaac Newton predicting the end of days was simply more than I could resist. It was an exciting time. I traveled to Jerusalem, to the Jewish National and University Library where they keep those particular Newton Papers..." He paused, savoring the memory. "It was wonderful."
         "Professor?"
         "Oh my gosh ... please, forgive me. There is so much to cover; so little time." DiBianco took a deep breath and retraced his thoughts. "Newton believed that he had figured out the actual..."
         Just then the classroom door opened. Three individuals entered and stood politely just inside, allowing the door to ease closed behind them.
         "...date that the end of days would begin." DiBianco placed his open Bible on the desk, grabbed a piece of chalk from the tray and wrote, large and wide on the blackboard.

2 0 6 0

         He recognized two of the people standing by the door and winked: Sheila MacDougle, the Dean of Divinity; and longtime acquaintance, agent Camillin, from the FBI's Boston Field Office.
         DiBianco had worked with Agent Camillin a few years back on a case involving an exhibit of historical paintings that had mysteriously disappeared from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It turned out to be an inside job.
         DiBianco fought a nauseating contortion in his stomach. He would have much rather been thinking, how wonderful it is to see you again, old friend, but one look at the dark-skinned, foreigner--tall, wide, shaped like a brick--glaring at the large white numbers he had just written on the blackboard, had any feelings of peace fluttering off with sudden butterflies.
         "It would seem we have visitors." DiBianco gave a nod to the Dean and dropped the chalk in the tray. "What can we do for our lovely Dean?"
         MacDougle waved DiBianco over. She obviously had nothing she wished to say in front of the class.
         DiBianco gazed at his students and pointed at the blackboard. "Think about how Newton came up with this date." He rubbed the chalk from his hands and started toward the door, "It's all right there, in Daniel."
         DiBianco watched the eager faces on the two men blossom as he approached. They obviously had something pressing on their minds--something huge.
         "How's the new Mustang?" DiBianco said with a half smirk. But the Dean didn't answer. A sense of urgency filled his bosom when she pushed open the door and hustled them all out into the hallway, closing the door tightly behind.
         DiBianco extended a hand with a smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure, gentlemen?"
         Agent Camillin grabbed hold with a solid shake and a stern nod, then tapped the foreign man on the shoulder.
         In a thick middle-eastern accent, the man said, "Agent Afridi." His grip was massive; his skin, callused and cold, like his strong, yet drawn face.
         "This is a highly sensitive matter, Mike. I trust you'll understand." Camillin's look was very matter of fact.
         "Okay," DiBianco said. "Lay it on me, chief."
         "We can't discuss it here." Camillin placed his hand on DiBianco's shoulder. "Please, come with us."
         DiBianco's hands flailed upwards, knocking Camillin's hand away. "Have I done something wrong?"
         "I don't know Mike." Camillin shrugged. "Have you?"
         "We need your help, Mr. DiBianco." Agent Afridi said. "It is vital you come with us."
         DiBianco's gaze turned toward the Dean. Her eyes were understanding. DiBianco assumed they had already informed her of their plans. Then she backed up what her eyes had already said.
         "Go, Mike," she said with a forced smile. "We knew what we were getting into when hiring you. Your expertise may interfere at times, but that's the price we pay for excellence."
         DiBianco's chin lifted at the compliment and a wink and a smile returned the thanks. "What about my class?"
         "Don't worry..." The Dean waved at someone behind him. "It's covered."
         Before DiBianco had the chance to see whose echoing footsteps trotted up the hall, the soft flowering scent gave her away.
         "Savanna Campbell." A wide grin filled his face and he turned to lay eyes upon his dear friend. "How was Paris?"
         "Splendid, of course." Savanna's gaze brushed the agents and she smiled. "Hello Boys." The Agents nodded.
         "Sure wish you had been there," she said, returning her gaze to DiBianco.
         "You and me both."
         "You wouldn't believe how many boys I--"
         "Just take good care of my kids, ya hear?"
         Savanna laughed. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"
         DiBianco shook his head and smiled.
         "What's the topic?"
         "Twenty-Sixty"
         "I should have guessed."

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