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

‘Don’t worry about it. My ears are from Harlem,’ said Andrea, going along with the joke.

‘You have to stabilise the thing a little more,’ said David.

‘I’m trying!’

Eichberg turned the wheel carefully and the robot began to cross the uneven ground.

‘Any idea how much distance Freddie has covered?’ Andrea asked.

‘About eight feet from the wall,’ David replied, drying the sweat on his brow. Each minute the temperature was increasing because of the generator and the intense lighting.

‘And it has-Wait!’

‘What?’

‘I think I saw something,’ Andrea said.

‘Are you sure? It’s not easy turning this thing around.’

‘Tommy, please, go to the left.’

Eichberg looked at Pappas, who nodded. Slowly, the picture on the screen began to move, revealing a dark, roundish contour.

‘Go back a little.’

Two triangles with thin ridges appeared, one next to the other.

A row of squares grouped together.

‘A little further back. You’re too close.’

Finally, the geometry was transformed into something recognisable.

‘Oh, Lord. It’s a skull.’

Andrea looked at Pappas with satisfaction.

‘There’s your answer: that’s how they managed to seal the chamber from the inside, David.’

The archaeologist wasn’t listening. He was focused on the screen, mumbling, his hands clutching it like an insane fortune-teller looking into a crystal ball. A drop of sweat slid from his greasy nose and landed on the image of the skull where the dead person’s cheek would have been.

Just like a teardrop , thought Andrea.

‘Quickly, Tommy! Go around it and then go forward a little more,’ Pappas said. His voice sounded even more strained. ‘To the left, Tommy!’

‘Easy, kid. Let’s do this calmly. I think there’s-’

‘Let me do it,’ David said, grabbing for the controls.

‘What are you doing?’ Eichberg said angrily. ‘Fuck! Let go.’

Pappas and Eichberg struggled over the controls for a few seconds, knocking the wheel in the process. David’s face was a vivid red and Eichberg was breathing heavily.

‘Be careful!’ Andrea yelled as she stared at the screen. The image was lurching around madly.

Suddenly it stopped moving. Eichberg let go of the controls and David fell back, cutting himself on the temple as he hit the corner of the monitor. But at that moment he was more concerned with what he’d just seen than with the cut on his head.

‘That’s what I was trying to tell you, kid,’ Eichberg said. ‘The ground is uneven.’

‘Shit. Why didn’t you let go?’ David yelled. ‘The machine’s tipped over.’

‘Just shut up,’ Eichberg yelled back. ‘You’re the one rushing things.’

Andrea screamed for both of them to be quiet.

‘Stop arguing! It hasn’t fallen over completely. Take a look.’ She was pointing at the screen.

Still angry, the two men approached the monitor. Brian Hanley, who had gone outside to get some tools and had been abseiling down during the brief fight, drew closer as well.

‘I think we can fix that,’ he said, studying the situation. ‘If we all pull on the cable at the same time we can probably get the robot back on its treads. If we pull on it too gently all we’ll do is drag it and it’ll get stuck.’

‘That won’t work,’ Pappas said. ‘We’ll yank the cable off.’

‘We’ve nothing to lose by trying, right?’

They lined up, each one holding the cable with both hands, as close as possible to the opening. Hanley pulled the cable taut.

‘On my count pull hard. One, two, three!’

The four of them yanked the cable at the same time. Suddenly it felt too loose in their hands.

‘Shit. We’ve disconnected it.’

Hanley continued pulling on the cable until the end appeared.

‘You’re right. Shit! I’m sorry, Pappas…’

The young archaeologist turned away, exasperated, ready to pound whoever or whatever was in front of him. He lifted a wrench and was about to hit the monitor, maybe in retaliation for the cut he’d received two minutes before.

But Andrea came closer and then she understood.

No.

I can’t believe it.

Because I never really believed in it, did I? I never thought it was possible you could exist.

The transmission from the robot had remained on the screen. When they had pulled on the cable Freddie had righted himself before the cable had become disconnected. In another position without the skull blocking the way, the image on screen showed a flash of something that Andrea could not understand at first. Then she realised that it was the infrared beam reflecting off a metallic surface. The reporter thought she could see the irregular edge of what appeared to be a huge box. On top of it she thought she saw a figure but she couldn’t be sure.

The person who was sure was Pappas, who was gazing at it, hypnotised.

‘It’s there, Professor. I’ve found it. I’ve found it for you…’

Andrea turned towards the professor and took a photo without thinking. She was trying to get his first reaction, whatever it was – surprise, joy, the culmination of his long search and dedication and emotional isolation. She took three shots before she really looked at the old man.

There was no expression in his eyes and from his mouth there was only a bloody trickle that ran down into his beard.

Brian ran over to him.

‘Shit! We have to get him out of here. He’s not breathing.’

NEW YORK

December 1943

Yudel was so hungry he could hardly feel the rest of his body. He was aware only of dragging himself through Manhattan’s streets looking for shelter in the doorways and alleys, never staying long in one place. There was always a sound, a light or a voice that frightened him and he would run, clutching the ragged change of clothes that was the only thing he owned. Except for his stay in Istanbul, the only homes he’d known were the hideout he’d lived in with his family, and the hold of the ship. For the boy, the chaos, noise and bright lights of New York were all part of a frightening jungle that was filled with danger. He drank from public fountains. At one point a drunken beggar grabbed the boy’s leg as he passed. Later, a policeman called to him from a corner. His uniform reminded Yudel of the monster with the flashlight who had searched for them while they hid under the stairs at Judge Rath’s house. He ran to hide.

The sun was setting on the afternoon of his third day in New York when the exhausted boy collapsed in a pile of rubbish in a dirty alleyway near Broome Street. Above him, the tenements were filled with the sound of pots and pans, arguments, sexual encounters, life. Yudel must have passed out for a few moments. When he came to, something was crawling over his face. He knew what it was before he opened his eyes. The rat paid him no attention. It was headed for an overturned bin, where it had scented a piece of dry bread. It was a large piece, too big to carry off, so the rat gnawed at it voraciously.

Yudel crawled over to the bin and grabbed a can, his fingers shaking from hunger. He hurled it at the rat and missed. The rat looked up at him briefly and then went back to gnawing the bread. The boy grabbed a broken umbrella handle and shook it at the rat, which finally ran off in search of an easier way to satisfy its hunger.

The boy grabbed the piece of stale bread. He opened his mouth hungrily, but then immediately closed it and put the bread on his lap. He pulled out a filthy rag from his bundle, covered his head and blessed the Lord for the gift of the bread.

‘ Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheynu Melech ha-olam, ha motzee lechem min ha-aretz .’ [10]