in the Tempoview." She went over to one of the older machines, kept now only for playing back old recordings. She ran the appropriate passage at high speed; looking like a comical, jerky puppet, Columbus peered in one direction, and then fell back into the sand for a while, perhaps praying, until he knelt up again and crossed himself and said, "The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." It was in that posture that the woman of Lagos -- Maria Luisa, daughter of Simao o Gordo, to be precise -- found him. Also looking like a marionette in the fast Tempoview playback, she ran back to the village for help.
"Is this what you've all seen?" she asked.
It was.
"Obviously nothing happens," she said. "So who would have bothered to come back to look at this with the TruSite II? But that is what I did, and here is what I saw." She returned to the TruSite II and resumed the playback. They all watched as Columbus looked about for water, turning his head slowly, obviously exhausted and in pain. But then, to their shock, they heard a soft voice.
"Cristoforo Colombo," said the voice.
A figure, then two figures, shimmered in the darkening air before Columbus. Now as he peered in that direction, all the watchers could see that he was not looking for water, but rather staring at the image that formed itself in the air.
"Cristobal Colyn. Coullon. Columbus." The voice went on, calling his name in language after language. It was barely, barely audible. And the image never quite resolved itself into clarity.
"So tenuous," murmured Hassan. "The Tempoview would never have been able to detect this. Like smoke or steam. A slight excitation of the air."
"What are we seeing?" demanded Kemal.
"Be still and listen, " said Tagiri, impatient. "What conclusion can you reach before you've seen the data?"
They fell silent. They watched and listened.
The vision resolved itself into two men, shining with a faint nimbus all around them. And on the shoulder of the smaller of the two men there sat a dove. There could be no doubt in the mind of any medieval man, especially one who had read as much as Cristoforo, what this vision was supposed to represent. The Holy Trinity. Almost he spoke their names aloud. But they were still speaking, calling him by name in languages he had never heard.
Then, finally: "Columbus, you are my true servant."
Yes, with all my heart I am.
"You have turned your heart to the east, to liberate Constantinople from the Turk."
My prayer, my promise was heard.
"I have seen your faith and your courage, and that is why I spared your life on the water today. I have a great work for you to do. But it is not Constantinople to which you must bring the cross.
Jerusalem, then?
"Nor is it Jerusalem, or any other nation touched by the waters of the Mediterranean. I saved you alive so you could carry the cross to lands much farther east, so far to the east that they can be reached only by sailing westward into the Atlantic."
Cristoforo could hardly grasp what they were telling him. Nor could he bear to look upon them anymore -- what mortal man had the right to gaze directly upon the face of the resurrected Savior, let alone the Almighty or the dove of the Holy Spirit? Never mind that this was only a vision; he could not look at them anymore. He lowered his head forward into the sand so he could not see them anymore, but listened all the more intently.
"There are great kingdoms there, rich in gold and powerful in armies. They have never heard the name of my Only Begotten, and they die unbaptized. It is my will that you carry salvation to them, and bring back the wealth of these lands."
Cristoforo heard this and his heart burned within him. God had seen him, God had noticed him, and he was being given a mission far greater than the mere liberation of an ancient Christian capital. Lands so far to the east that he must sail west to reach them. Gold. Salvation.
"Your name will be great. Kings will make you their viceroy, and you will be the ruler of the Ocean. Kingdoms will fall at your feet, and millions whose lives are saved will call you blessed. Sail westward, Columbus, my son, a voyage easily within the reach of your ships. The winds of the south will carry you west, and then the winds farther