Juan Gómez-Jurado - Contract with God aka The Moses Expedition

The old archaeologist stared at Fowler for a few seconds. Andrea noticed that the professor seemed to be finding it difficult to continue and asked herself what on earth had happened between the two men.

‘Yes, of course. Well, suffice it to say that the second half of the scroll finally turned up, thanks to the efforts of the Vatican. It had been handed down from father to son as a sacred object. The duty of the family was to keep it safe until the appropriate time. What they did was hide it in a candle, but eventually even they lost track of what was inside.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me. It was – how many? – seventy, eighty generations? It’s a miracle they continued the tradition of protecting the candle all that time,’ said someone sitting in front of Andrea. It was the administrator, Brian Hanley, she thought.

‘We Jews are a patient people,’ said Nuri Zayit, the cook. ‘We’ve been waiting for the Messiah for three thousand years.’

‘And you’re going to be waiting another three thousand,’ said one of Dekker’s soldiers. Loud bursts of laughter and slapping of hands accompanied the distasteful joke. But nobody else laughed. Because of the names, Andrea guessed that, with the exception of the hired guards, nearly all the members of the expedition were from a Jewish background. She could feel the tension in the room mounting.

‘Let’s continue,’ said Forrester, ignoring the soldiers’ ridicule. ‘Yes, it was a miracle. Have a look at it.’

One of the assistants brought over a wooden case about three feet long. Inside it, under protective glass, was a copper plate covered in Hebrew symbols. Everyone, including the soldiers, stared at the object and began commenting on it in low voices.

‘It looks almost new.’

‘Yes, the Copper Scroll of Qumran must be older. It’s not shiny and it’s cut into small strips.’

‘The Qumran Scroll appears to be more ancient because it was exposed to the air,’ the professor explained, ‘and it was cut into strips because the researchers couldn’t find any other way of opening it to read the contents. The second scroll was protected from oxidation by the wax covering it. That’s why the writing is as clear as the day it was written. Our own map of the treasure.’

‘So you’ve managed to decipher it?’

‘Once we had the second scroll, figuring out what the first one said was child’s play. What wasn’t easy was keeping the discovery quiet. Please don’t ask me details of the actual process because I’m not authorised to reveal any more, and besides, you wouldn’t understand it.’

‘So we’re going in search of a pile of gold? Isn’t that a little trite for such a pretentious expedition? Or for someone who’s got money coming out of his ears like Mr Kayn?’ asked Andrea.

‘Ms Otero, we’re not looking for a pile of gold. As a matter of fact, we’ve already discovered some.’

The old archaeologist signalled to one of his assistants, who spread a piece of black felt on the table and, with some effort, lifted a resplendent object onto it. It was the largest bar of gold Andrea had ever seen: the size of a man’s forearm but roughly shaped, it had probably been formed in some millennial foundry. Although its surface was studded with small craters, mounds and imperfections, it was very beautiful. Every eye in the room was glued to the object, and there were whistles of admiration.

‘Using the clues from the second scroll we discovered one of the hiding places described in the Copper Scroll of Qumran. That was in March this year, somewhere on the West Bank. There were six bars of gold like this one.’

‘How much is it worth?’

‘Around three hundred thousand dollars…’

The whistles turned into exclamations.

‘… but believe me, that’s nothing compared to the value of what we’re looking for: the most powerful object in the history of mankind.’

Forrester made a gesture and one of the assistants took the bar away, but left the black felt. The archaeologist took out a sheet of graph paper from a file and placed it where the gold bar had lain. Everyone leaned forward, intent on seeing what it was. They all recognised the object sketched on it immediately.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, you are the twenty-three people who have been chosen to recover the Ark of the Covenant.’

RED SEA

Tuesday, 11 July 2007. 7:17 p.m.

A ripple of amazement spread through the room. Everyone began to talk excitedly, and then badgered the archaeologist with questions.

‘Where is the Ark?’

‘What’s inside it…?’

‘How can we help…?’

Andrea was shocked by the assistants’ reactions as well as by her own. Those words, the Ark of the Covenant, had a magical ring that enhanced the archaeological importance of discovering an object over two thousand years old.

Not even an interview with Kayn could top this. Russell was right. If we find the Ark, it’ll be the scoop of the century. Proof of the existence of God…

Her breathing quickened. Suddenly she had hundreds of questions for Forrester, but she knew straight away that it would be pointless to ask. The old man had taken them to this point and now he was going to leave them there, begging for more.

A great way to get us to cooperate.

As if confirming Andrea’s theory, Forrester was looking at the group like the cat that had swallowed the canary. He gestured for them to be quiet.

‘That’s enough for today. I don’t want to give you any more than your brains can assimilate. We’ll let you know the rest when it’s time. For now, I’m going to turn things over to-’

‘One last thing, Professor,’ Andrea interrupted him. You said there were twenty-three of us but I count only twenty-two. Who’s missing?’

Forrester turned and consulted with Russell, who nodded that he could go ahead.

‘Number twenty-three on the expedition is Mr Raymond Kayn.’

All conversation stopped.

‘What the hell does that mean?’ one of the hired soldiers asked.

‘It means that the boss is going on the expedition. As all of you know, he came on board a few hours ago and he’ll be travelling with us. Does that seem strange to you, Mr Torres?’

‘Jesus Christ, everybody says the old man’s crazy,’ Torres replied. ‘It’s hard enough protecting the sane ones, but the locos …’

Torres appeared to be from South America. He was short, thin, dark-skinned, and spoke English with a strong Latino accent.

‘Torres,’ said a voice behind him.

The soldier shrank back in his chair, but didn’t turn around. Dekker was obviously going to make sure his man didn’t continue to stick his foot in his mouth.

In the meantime Forrester had sat down and Jacob Russell had taken the floor. Andrea noticed there wasn’t a single wrinkle on his white jacket.

‘Good afternoon, everyone. I want to thank Professor Cecyl Forrester for his moving presentation. And on behalf of myself and Kayn Industries, I want to express my gratitude to all of you for being present. I don’t have much to add, except for two very important points. First, from this moment on, all communication with the outside world is strictly forbidden. This includes mobile phones, e-mail and verbal communication. Until we’ve accomplished our mission, this is your universe. You will understand in time why this measure is necessary to safeguard both the success of such a sensitive mission and our own security.’

There were a few whispered complaints, but they were half-hearted. Everyone already knew what Russell had told them because it had been specified in the lengthy contract each one had signed.