The White Book

by George Shadow

“Let’s do this and get over with it,” Rachel cried, blinking back tears.

  Carl Bain smiled. If their Bookbearer had been crying, then something must have gone terribly wrong for his enemies. Maybe the savior they thought they would find in the old man standing before him hadn’t materialized? This sudden outcome must have destroyed their resolve to succeed, hence the present event playing out before him.

  “TelepathyG7 will project symbols all over the place as soon as you break our truce,” Jeremy told the mysterious man confronting them.

  “There won’t be any need for that,” Carl Bain said. “I’m a man of my word.”

  Jeremy nodded. He still found it hard to believe the revelations his visitors had earlier told Mr. Goldenberg, but he couldn’t disprove the fact that he thought this mysterious fellow standing before them a rebellious murderer of some sought. For proof, he just needed to look at the man’s appearance.

  “Well then,” Ben Haddad said. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Where’s the book, and my box?” Carl Bain asked him.

  “Here’s the book,” Rachel said, handing over the ancient volume.

  “And here’s the package,” Kimberley added, pulling out the miniature cube from a pocket.

  The human minion smiled and collected the items with open arms. His enemies used a handkerchief to wipe away the sharpie marks on their arms and immediately, his demonic masters appeared behind him. He felt their mysterious presence boost his mystical energy and turned to his now-helpless enemies. “Good to know that you erased your cursed symbols,” he told them. “Now, to end this.”

  Fire burst out from Carl Bain’s right hand and an explosive shield suddenly engulfed everyone. The otherworldly force from this shield pulverized the American thug and all the demons empowering him, turning them into brown ash.

  The small silver package clattered to the ground and the white book fell beside it.

  * * *

  Professor Baruch Goldenberg, now also known as Benjamin Haddad, let out the breath he’d been holding all this while. It worked. His plan had worked. The one he’d been working on all these years across space and time. The one he just had a few minutes to physically put together after years in alternate oblivion.

  “Whew!” Jeremy let out. “It actually worked.” He gingerly pushed aside some ash from the lonely heap lying directly before them with his right leg. “This guy would never believe this just happened wherever he finds himself right now,” he chuckled.

  “Of course, he never knew what hit him,” Mariah emphasized. “He should still be dreaming wherever he is right now.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Kimberley said. She turned to Professor Baruch Goldenberg, or Benjamin Haddad, in disbelief. How did the old fellow do it?

  The institute personnel amongst her friends stepped out and waited for their professor to speak. Of course, Mr. Haddad had alternate memory. “We’ll need vacuumizers,” he told them. “First thing’s first; we clean up this place and burn the bodies outside. Now, go.”

  “Is-Is it really over?” Rachel stammered, standing up with the white book as the guards and institute staff trooped out. She surveyed the heaps of brown ash littered all over the laboratory.

  “Won’t they come back, Kim?” Aiden asked the female sergeant, his right fingers still interlocked with Rachel’s left fingers. “Did we just win?”

  Rachel blinked twice and gaped at the ash everywhere. “Is it really over?”

  “It’s over, my dear,” Ben Haddad told her, placing his right hand on her left shoulder. “Your father and I studied Kabbalah Ma’asit together in order to discover how to destroy the demons, but he died before we could find a way to practically arrive at the conclusion we just witnessed.” The elderly Bookmaker looked away and his voice softened. “I did this today for your father, my child. I did this for a friend who had always wanted to see the hills and valleys around Jerusalem again. One whose memory I will forever hold dear.”

  “Are the Gray Ones gone for good, Mr. Haddad?” Kimberley demanded.

  “Call me Ben, my dear,” the elderly Sikama said. “And I think the answer to your question is ‘yes.’”

  “But, how? How did you do it?” Mariah wondered.

  “A simple theory I practicalized,” Ben Haddad said. “The Ice of Masada had always needed a boost.” He turned to Rachel. “You had all the ingredients for that boost right here with you all this time, but you never knew you did, my dear. For some years, I never knew about that as well, until I realized it all had to do with something Jehoash and I had always tried to figure out back at the Mine; why we couldn’t draw the ankh in the pages of the books.”

  “We tried to draw the ankh in the book, Mr. Ben,” Aiden said. “But we also failed to do so.”

  “Did we?” Kimberley wondered. “Never remembered us doing so.”

  “Mariah told us on the way to Pripyat that it was impossible to draw the sign in the book,” Rachel said. “We never tried to do so afterwards.”

  “I see,” Baruch Goldenberg said. The professor watched his men return with vacuumizers to begin the onerous task of removing the heaps of ash lying all over the place. “The two books are weapons the Booklords sought to retrieve and return to Yahweh,” he said. “A task these former angels decided to undertake after Yahweh cursed them for conniving with Lucifer in producing the books. I hope you know the story?”

  “The story?” Jeremy began.

  “You remember, Kim?” Rachel said. “I told you about the books, remember?”

  “Yeah, that story,” Kimberley whispered. “Never knew we were fighting former angels, though.” Of course, it all sounded so otherworldly. “So, why can’t anyone draw the ankh in the pages of the books?”

  “Your Bookbearer is a child,” Ben said. “A Bookbearer must be strong-willed and mature enough to withstand and eventually destroy the forces after the book, and you usually don’t find these qualities in a child, especially one who had just lost her father.” He stopped before the laboratory table and sat down on his tall stool. “I must confess that, just like Rachel, not many Sikama are strong-minded enough to boost the book’s defense and eventually destroy the demons trying to retrieve it. We couldn’t do that all the time we were in the Mine. That’s where we could have used the ankh symbol, but we didn’t know about that. And poor Jehoash. He gave his daughter a task even he could not achieve at the time.” The elderly Sicarii Kabbalah Masada paused. “The ankh symbol I placed in the book was a touch of genius,” he said.

  “And shaping it out from a stem was also ingenious,” Mariah commended. She could hug the old man at that point.

  A weary Kimberley nodded in agreement.

  “You could have ended this a long time ago if only you had gone round the inability to draw an ankh in the book by putting something shaped like an ankh inside the book,” Ben Haddad told her.

  “Okay,” Aiden agreed, wondering at the number of risky situations they would have avoided if they had done so. “We never knew it would work, so we never tried it.”

  “You haven’t answered my question, Ben,” Kimberley began, picking up Carl Bain’s small silver box. “Why couldn’t we draw an ankh in the book?”

  “Mariah once talked of the books coming from the devil, Kim,” Rachel remembered.

  “I need to hear another part of that story from our hero, Rachel,” Kimberley said.

  “That, I’m afraid, is a mystery only Yahweh and Lucifer can unravel for you, my dear.” Ben Haddad’s chiseled face almost softened. “Of course, Lucifer had a part to play in all this, but just know that no one individual could draw the X or T signs in the books, until today.”

  Mariah frowned. “And what do you mean by that, Ben?”

  The elder Sikama’s countenance changed as he turned to her. “Up till today, Mariah, I never thought I would live to see the day a human being can draw the ankh symbol on the pages of the books, but behold this very individual is with us right now as we speak.”

  “
And who is this person?” Kimberley wanted to know.

  Benjamin Haddad, also known as Professor Baruch Goldenberg, nodded towards Aiden.

  “Me?” Aiden sounded perplexed.

  Rachel looked puzzled. “It’s not…”

  “What we witnessed today would never have happened if we did not have this young friend of yours with us today, Rachel,” Ben Haddad said. “Putting the ankh sign in the book was just a part of the work we needed to do.”

  “I don’t understand, Master,” Mariah said.

  “We also needed to create the boom,” Rachel realized. She still held Aiden’s right hand. “We did that without knowing it.”

  “And I must thank you two for trying unknowingly, my child.” Ben Haddad beamed. “The force your friend helped you generate in addition to that created by the ankh symbol in the book boosted the Ice of Masada to a level that could only destroy our enemies when it confronted them.”

  “Wow,” Kimberley let out. “Just wow.”

  “And I must confess that ever since I saw your young friend, Rachel, I’ve noticed his stark resemblance to someone I knew in the past,” Ben Haddad continued. “A boy I think I came across back at the Mine.”

  Rachel turned blue. “The boy’s name was Avigdor, Uncle Ben. Aiden is Avigdor’s reincarnation, and I’m so sorry to be saying this now.”

  Kimberley looked at Aiden. She couldn’t make out his present state of mind.

  “I wrote his name in the book and came looking for him in his town, where the sergeant saved me from the Gray Ones,” Rachel murmured, looking at the floor. “We all became friends after our perilous journey through space and time together.”

  Aiden wondered why he never became aware of his alternate self from the moment he met the strange girl who’d upended his life back in Portwood, just like everyone else. Or did he do that without knowing it? That was a puzzle he needed to unravel with Rachel’s help.

  “So, let’s see you draw an ankh in the book,” Kimberley told Aiden.

  Rachel gave Aiden the white book and her sharpie and he drew an ankh on the book’s first page.

  “Draw in the middle,” Ben Haddad told the boy.

  Aiden did so.

  Rachel looked at his work. “This means you’re a stronger Bookbearer than me, Aiden. You will become a Bookmaker sooner than later.”

  “But why did the Ice of Masada protect us from the Gray Ones when we willingly gave them the book?” Kimberley asked the professor.

  “We willingly gave him the book, Kim, but did the Bookbearer willingly do so?” Aiden wondered.

  “Right,” Kimberley said, nodding.

  Baruch Goldenberg, or Ben Haddad, smiled at Rachel. “Did you know you drew the Gray Ones to the Bookbinders when you caused the spiritual entities of these men and women to move through space and time by writing their names in the book?” he asked the little girl.

  Aiden smirked. “Aren’t they called Bookmakers anymore?”

  “I prefer Bookbinders,” Ben said. “It sounds more noble.”

  “But I could not get to the Bookmakers if I didn’t write their names in the book,” Rachel protested. “There were no names in the white book when Father gave it to me.”

  “Yes,” Ben agreed. “Your action, despite being an unfortunate one, was very necessary for you and your objective. Sadly, you appear to have gleaned little from my dead colleagues as regarded your quest during said quest.”

  “Can you read my mind?” Rachel wondered aloud. “I was just thinking the exact same thing...”

  “You can help us, Mr. Haddad, by telling us what really happened at the Mine,” Kimberley cut in, seizing the opportunity.

  The professor cleared his throat and paused. “Initially,” he began, “we, the Sicarii Kabbalah Masada, wanted to remove Emperor Constantine from power on behalf of my people, the Jews.”

  “So, why did your people want this Constantine guy out?” Aiden wondered.

  “Flavius Valerius Constantinus fought for 18 years to become the only emperor of the Roman Empire after the death of his father,” Mariah narrated. “As emperor, he legally banned the persecution of Christians and willingly legalized the divisions between Jews and Christians by favoring the latter and condemning the Jews for having killed Yeshua, whom Christianity also knew as Jesus, their so-called Son of God. This led to the persecution of our people by overzealous Roman citizens.”

  “Interesting,” Jeremy said.

  “Go on,” Kimberley urged. “The emperor rightly condemned the Jews for killing Jesus Christ, or wasn’t that what happened?”

  Benjamin Haddad shook his head. “Contrary to Christian beliefs, it was not Yeshua or the first Jewish apostles who started a new religion called Christianity,” he said. “Yeshua often told his followers while he was alive that he came, would die, and would rise from the grave in fulfillment of Jewish laws and Jewish prophets.”

  “Early Greek and Roman leaders caused the rift between Judaism and the new sect called Christianity,” Mariah pointed out. “The faith of the Jewish and Gentile followers of Yeshua was originally called ‘The Way,’ and for the first 300 years of Christianity the Gentile followers of Yeshua kept the Passover. There was no celebration of Easter or Christmas.”

  “However, not long after John, Yeshua’s last apostle, died around AD 99,” Benjamin Haddad continued, “a known Christian leader at the time told his followers that it was foolish to profess Yeshua the Messiah and to Judaize at the same time.”

  “Judaize,” Kimberley began. “What does that mean?”

  “It means to practice Jewish laws and customs,” Rachel explained.

  “One wonders how Yeshua, who practiced the laws and customs in the Jewish Torah, was even allowed into this new religion called Christianity,” Mariah said. “But that’s a question to ponder another day,” she quickly added after Benjamin Haddad glared at her. “Yeshua became the Messiah and Christ was added to the Greek transliteration of his name.”

  Kimberley did not miss the said interaction between Benjamin Haddad and his female protégé.

  “By the time the apologist and theologian, Justin Martyr, arrived on the scene, the Greek and Roman Christians have accused the Jewish people of Deicide — the killing of a Divine being, Yeshua,” Benjamin Haddad resumed. “Afterwards, many emerging Greek-minded Gentile leaders taught against keeping the Lord’s Biblical holy days described in Leviticus 23.

  “They disinherited the Jewish people from the land of Israel by saying God has now given it to Christians; and they continued to speak derogatorily about Yeshua’s brethren, the Jewish People,” Mariah added.

  “Then Constantine stepped in and legalized these opinions?” Kimberley concluded.

  “Exactly,” the professor agreed. “From the Council of Nicaea, the new emperor changed Yahweh’s holy days and introduced Easter as the period Yeshua resurrected. This day would be distinct from the Biblical dates of Passover and First Fruits, which were the dates when Yeshua actually died and purportedly rose from the grave.”

  “We still don’t believe Yeshua rose from the dead,” Mariah pointed out.

  “Nobody believes that story anymore,” Jeremy quipped.

  “Good to hear,” Mariah murmured, looking away.

  “The Sikama became relevant when the Jewish community in Rome decided to eliminate Emperor Constantine in any way possible, in order to better the Jewish way of life in Rome,” Ben Haddad said. “Many of my kinsmen believed this goal was possible and joined the sect at the Mine in A.D. 316, months after the emperors Constantine and Licinius had declared the edict of Milan.”

  “The Mine was an old abandoned Roman quarry near the empire’s capital city,” Mariah chipped in. She smiled when the professor approved with a nod.

  “And what is this edict of Milan?” Kimberley wanted to know.

  “It’s a proclamation issued by the emperors to elevate Christianity in the empire,” Mariah said. “This made the public to start seeing the Jews as murderers of the elevat
ed Christ, thereby initiating the public persecution of our people.”

  “We, the members of the sect, went about preparing for our mission by studying Kabbalah Ma’asit,” Mr. Haddad said. “After several missteps, we were able to communicate with a group of Yahweh’s angels led by Rau, the Guardian of His Western Regions and Beyond.”

  The professor paused. He liked the rapt attention his small audience displayed. “You know the spells in the books came from the devil?”

  “So we heard,” Kimberley said. “But you could be joking, right?”

  Benjamin Haddad chuckled. “No, I’m not,” he said. “These heavenly servants went into an unholy alliance with Lucifer just to help us…”

  Kimberley frowned again. “Lucifer, the devil?”

  “Yes, Lucifer.” Mariah meant every word. “Rau promised us Shurabi, a fiendish spell of many evil powers, which Satan, the devil, had agreed to provide under one single condition.”

  “And what condition was that?” Kimberley asked.

  “That Rau and his colleagues must win over Yahweh’s heavenly servants for Lucifer within a given time after he had done his part,” Benjamin Haddad said.

  The small audience remained speechlessly amazed that the books had such a dark history.

  “Our new masters showed us how to mysteriously make books using a procedure hitherto unknown to established civilizations and Roman codex makers of those days,” the professor continued, “and this was how we came to be known as Bookmakers or Bookbinders by those trusted Jewish leaders intimated of our existence, objectives and supreme goal.”

  “So how did you come about the books?” Aiden asked, now fully engrossed by this interesting tale.

  “It took us roughly ten years to get it right,” Mariah continued. “Within this time, most of the books we produced were later discarded, because they could not easily carry the spell Satan wanted to bestow on them.”

  Benjamin Haddad turned to Rachel. “Your father succeeded where we all failed, my dear.”

  “Jehoash came up with a peculiar material he processed from papyrus to make the pages of the first book,” Mariah said. “This material easily received the spell without much trouble.”