by Sean Ellis
The Zond unit consisted of two parts: the radar unit, which consisted of the antenna head and a control box and the computer. The software loaded into the computer was designed to collate the information gathered after walking a search pattern of overlapping lines, and give the illusion of seeing through the rock and soil to whatever lay beneath. To the uninitiated, there appeared to be no corollary between the rainbow colors on the monitor and the ground upon which they stood, but with just a little practice, Kismet was able to differentiate the large solid blocks, buried beneath centuries of dust, from the surrounding soil. The three-dimensional cross section allowed him to isolate certain areas and examine them from several angles. The results of his search, while fairly easy to digest, were less than encouraging.
“What does it mean?” inquired Chiron, sensing his growing frustration.
“That this whole area has been disturbed, and more than once.” He pointed to several lighter areas on the display. “I can’t tell when this happened. Definitely within the last century or so, and that’s our whole margin for error. But the soil density is pretty much uniform. There are some larger objects: cut stone blocks and so forth, but no evidence that someone dropped an exploratory shaft.”
“Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place?”
Kismet shrugged. “Samir specifically said the artifacts had been located under the Esagila the Temple of Marduk.”
Chiron gestured to a high mound in the distance. “Could he have meant the Tower of Babel? Or perhaps a difference temple to Marduk?”
“I would be inclined to rule out Babel. The site held no special significance to the Babylonians, and unless he was actively trying to deceive me, Samir would not have made that mistake. As to another temple…” He shrugged again. “We may have to accept that we aren’t going to find what we’re after. They’ve had twenty years to completely loot this site. Maybe everything was moved out when they first excavated, and our black marketeers have just been sitting on their trove, saving it for a rainy day.”
“Surely you are not ready to admit defeat so quickly?” Chiron’s words were rapid and anxious. “This may be the only tangible link to the mystery that has troubled you for more than a decade. You know, Nick… You know that something was found here. You have the word of the man who died revealing this truth, and you have the testimony of your own eyes. You have seen the proof.”
“Proof of what, Pierre? Proof of the existence of a historical site that needs UN protection? I think we both know that’s not what we’re talking about anymore.”
The older man glanced quickly toward Marie, looking to see if their sharp words had roused her. She appeared to be sleeping. When he spoke again, his tone had softened. “My apologies. It would seem I find the specter of failure the most haunting ghost of all.”
Kismet sighed, almost regretting what he had said, even though both men knew it to be true. “Christ, Pierre. You don’t really think you’re going to find some piece of rock with the words ‘God was here,’ do you? I know it would make everything better if you could believe that Collette had gone to the Elysian Fields, but you know as well as I do that there isn’t a single tangible thing on this planet that can convince you of that if you don’t already have faith that it’s true.”
Chiron shook his head sadly. “You are right, Nick. Even now, as hungry as I am to believe, I cannot bring myself to accept that God can be found.”
“Then what in hell are we doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” He meant it as a joke; a way to diffuse the gravity of their discussion, but Chiron was not ready to let it go.
“Nick, do you believe in miracles?”
Kismet considered answering once again with levity, but thought better of it. “If you mean the water-into-wine variety, I guess I’d have to say no.”
“And yet so many do believe, and not just in the miracles of Jesus Christ and Moses. There are thousands, perhaps millions, of personal accounts. Everything from healing to the intervention of angels to preserve someone in a time of great danger.”
“Faith is a powerful thing…”
He knew from Chiron’s smile that he had inadvertently made the very point the old man was arguing. “No doubt you will say that those who believe they have been healed, did so psychosomatically, or perhaps that their maladies were imagined to begin with. Or that the reports are simply fraudulent. And you would probably be right in ninety-nine percent of the cases. But it is the one percent that fascinates me. Does an irrefutable account of a supernatural act establish the existence of the Divine?”
“Irrefutable?” Kismet countered. “That’s a pretty tall order.”
“Ah, you are right. I have strayed from what I meant to say.” Chiron checked Marie’s motionless form for any indication that she was stirring, then resumed speaking in a low voice. “Real or not, the world has been shaped by miracles, most outstandingly, those spoken of in the Holy Bible. Moses’ ten plagues and the crossing of the Red Sea are images burned into our collective consciousness. More than that, they are the foundation for a system of belief that dominates our thinking four thousand years later. Think about it—more than half the world’s population subscribe to one of the three forms of monotheism: Christianity, Islam or Judaism. All three worship the same God and recognize the events described in Genesis as part of true world history. The same could be said for the miracles of Jesus Christ. Without those events, do you imagine that these men would have made such an impact on history?”
Kismet recalled this facet of Chiron’s personality—the philosopher. The argument had changed, but the passionate search for truth remained. For his part, the novelty of the debate had worn off. He had never really been that interested in grasping the meaning of life—his personal quest always seemed more immediate—but on warm Paris nights, over brandy and the occasional cigar, philosophical meanderings had their own unique charm. Not so in the swampy heat on the banks of the Euphrates. “So what are you saying? That those miracles had to have been real in order to have such a profound impact?”
“Maybe. Or maybe that they have become real because we need them to be.”
Kismet returned a blank look, saying nothing.
“But again I have strayed,” Chiron continued. “You mentioned earlier the power of faith. What if it is more than simply a neurotic, individualized response to a passionate moment? What if a person could believe something so strongly, they could actually influence the physical reality of their surroundings?”
“Like telekinesis? I tend to lump parapsychological phenomena in with miracles anyway. You’re just substituting psychic power for God. So far, I haven’t seen substantial proof for either.”
The Frenchman raised a hand. “There is compelling evidence to suggest that psychic power does exist, Nick. I’m not talking about parlor tricks—hypnosis and spoon bending—but simple occurrences of precognition…déjà vu. Have you ever been humming a song, then turned on the radio only to discover that very song being played?”
“Coincidence.” Kismet’s voice lacked the weight of certainty.
“Perhaps not. We are electrical beings, and what are radio broadcast waves but electrical signals? In any case, I only ask you to hold an open mind on the subject, as it relates to the broader discussion.
“Are you familiar with the precepts of quantum physics? One of the most basic theories is that something becomes real only if it is observed, and that the observer cannot help but influence the outcome by his presence. I’m oversimplifying, but this has been proved on the subatomic level. Now, employing the inverse of the alchemistic method—as below, so above—let’s apply this to the visible world. Do we influence our reality simply by experiencing it?”
“Think happy thoughts, is that it?”
“On a small scale, yes. But what about collectively? If enough people believe in something—not just wishful thinking, but ardent acceptance that something is true—does it become so?”
“Or if enough people believe in God, does He become real?” Kismet
shook his head. “We could debate this forever and never prove any of it. But we sure as hell aren’t going to find the answer under a ton of dirt in the middle of Babylon. Which begs the question, what in God’s name are we doing here?”
“Nick, you have jumped ahead of me. I don’t know if collective faith in God is enough to will Him into existence, but I have seen compelling evidence to suggest that we humans do influence the physical world, not just with our bodies, but also our minds. We are all broadcasting and receiving, every minute of every day. We exchange a torrent of low frequency electrical energy that once in a while becomes coherent—a precognitive event, a premonition—but it is always there.”
Chiron paused to drink from a water bottle, giving Kismet the impression that everything he had posited was merely prelude. The old man did not disappoint. “Now, as you have asked, what does any of this have to do with our activities here?
“You know my heart, Nick. You know that I have long doubted, even in the face of Collette’s belief, but it wasn’t until her death that I began to desire a definitive answer. I cannot bring myself to accept the divine revelations of her church or any other. Would that I could, for then at least I would know that her belief was not in vain. Yet I realized that I had erred as a scientist by automatically refuting these belief systems. I had applied Occam’s Razor to the matter, imagining that if some element of the argument for God failed, the inverse was automatically true. But as Hamlet said, there is more in heaven and on earth than is dreamt of in our philosophy.
“What I am about to tell you is by no means an original concept. It exists in one form or another in many cultures, notably in Taoism, but I arrived at my conclusions quite independently. I have come to believe that our world, perhaps our entire universe, is part of a great organic entity, and that we are its brain cells. Our thoughts and perceptions collectively become the mind of this organism, and this interaction occurs in tandem with the Telluric currents—earth’s own electro-magnetic field. Now, like any force of nature—the wind or the sea—we are powerless to control this…this spirit, if you will…but we can harness it and use it to our advantage. That I believe, is what the great miracle workers have done, whether consciously or otherwise.”
Kismet offered a conciliatory shrug. “Okay, it’s a little wacky, but I’ll take that under consideration.”
“But you’re still wondering: why here and now?” Chiron seemed pleased that Kismet had not dismissed the subject following his revelation, and took a moment to compose himself again before continuing. “Let me tell you another story, one pieced together from papyrus codices discovered in Egypt and presently buried in the UNESCO vaults. It’s about an Egyptian high priest named Thutmosis who lived about 3,500 years ago. Thutmosis was well-versed in all the mystic arts of the ancients, and by that I mean the chicanery used to convince the general public that gods were real and very much involved in the affairs of men. We imagine that we understand how Egypt’s magic-practicing priests used sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors, to deceive the masses, but we don’t know the half. These men, of whom Thutmosis was likely the last, were able to tap into the global spirit I have been describing. Now, this was no simple task. There is evidence to support the idea that the pyramids were erected for the sole purpose of channeling these currents of energy. Or it may have been the other way around. Perhaps it was this power—geomancy or earth magic—that enabled them to move the massive blocks that formed those monuments. I suspect it may have been a little of each, but in any case, the foundation for Thutmosis’ power was laid millennia before his birth.
“Thutmosis was highly intelligent and very popular among the upper echelons of Egyptian society, but the ruling class and especially the Pharaoh became fearful. To discredit him, they circulated a rumor that he was a foundling, cast up on the shores of the Nile and likely the bastard offspring of slaves. As the rumor began to take on a life of its own, Thutmosis twisted it to his own advantage and began looking for support among that lowest of classes, ultimately fomenting a slave rebellion that shook the ruling dynasty to pieces. But this was no mere popular revolt. Thutmosis convinced the slaves that he was the messenger of a god more powerful than those of the Egyptians, and to prove it he performed fantastic acts of magic such as transforming his staff into a snake or changing water into blood—”
Kismet raised a hand to interrupt. “Okay, I’ve seen this movie. You’re telling me that Moses wasn’t a Hebrew, but an Egyptian priest? That’s a pretty bold assertion.”
“And it would be very inflammatory if revealed today. Now you understand why the ancient records which tell of these things have been suppressed by UNESCO. However, it matters little. Thutmosis, or Moses if you prefer, quickly won the hearts of the slaves. Through a clever combination of magic tricks and actual manipulation of the Telluric currents, he convinced them that an unnamed God had chosen them to be His holy people. As their collective faith grew, so did Moses’ power, culminating in a series of fantastic plagues that devastated Egypt.
“As the revolt gained strength however, Moses realized that the framework for this new belief system would not be sustainable if he remained in Egypt. There was too much evidence laying around to expose his secret. Additionally, there remained the possibility that another priest might use the same machinery of magic to overpower him and cast down his new God. Or perhaps he simply got so caught up in the role of demagogue that he lost the ability to distinguish reality; maybe the God he had invented actually began speaking to him. In any event, he decided that his supporters—a new nation of them—should set forth on an expedition to capture the fertile lands of Palestine. This exodus from Egypt culminated in the most fantastic display of his power yet: the parting of the Red Sea.
“Now as you may know, Biblical scholars who can’t quite bring themselves to believe in the power of God have opined that a coincidental volcanic eruption on the Greek island of Thera may have cleared the sea floor temporarily, allowing this nation of people a few hours in which to make the crossing. It is a plausible explanation, but a little too convenient…unless Moses himself triggered those geological events in order to part the sea.”
Chiron paused and waited for Kismet to weigh in. “Okay, it might have happened that way. I’m familiar with some of the fringe theories about pyramid power and ancient Egyptian science as magic, so I know you’re not just making all this up. But what does it have to do with us?”
“If you will for the moment accept that this version of events is more or less true, then ask yourself this question. How did Thutmosis defeat the other priests who were also tapped into the Telluric energies? And how did he sustain his own connection to this power once removed from close proximity to the pyramids?”
Kismet shook his head. “I don’t know. In the movie, I think he used a stick.”
“The wizard’s staff? The magic wand?” Chiron chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “That’s exactly how he did it. The Staff of Moses was no mere shepherd’s rod. The Midrash Rabbah, an oral argument expounding on the Torah, has a great deal to say about the Staff of Moses. It is said to be made of pure sapphire, weighing hundreds of kilograms—too heavy in fact for a man to lift without God’s power. According to Rabbinic tradition, the Staff was given to Adam by God following his expulsion from Paradise, and was passed down through a succession of holy men until it came into the possession of Jethro, one of Pharaoh’s advisors, who lived in the land of Midian. Jethro incidentally became Moses’ father-in-law. However, I suspect this story was merely a clever invention by Moses himself to conceal the Egyptian origins of the Staff. It is my belief that the Staff was fashioned by Egyptian priests as a key to unlock the energies channeled by the pyramids, and that Moses wrested control of this talisman from them, ultimately turning their greatest weapon against them.”
Kismet finally understood. “So that’s what we’re looking for? Moses’ magic stick?”
Chiron raised a hand. “Is it so hard to believe? At some point the Bible stories do
begin to agree with recorded history. The people who named themselves Israelites—descendants of Jacob—did conquer Palestine and establish a kingdom that endured until Roman times. More than that, they established a belief system unique in their time—a religion where there existed only one true God. Some factual incident inspired these accounts. I think that classifies it as more than just a bedtime story.”
Kismet rubbed the sweat from his eyes, trying to hide his exasperation. Philosophical discussions notwithstanding, he could not escape the fact that Chiron had somehow shanghaied him into a war zone for the sake of a treasure hunt. “What makes you so certain that it ended up here?”
“Ah, there’s another story. The Bible does not speak of the disposition of the Staff. In fact, every effort is made in the writings attributed to Moses to minimize its significance. I suspect that he did not want his own acolytes figuring out how to steal the power and seize control, so he couched much of the knowledge inside the rites of the Levitic priesthood. The design of the priestly vestments and the architecture of the holy tent of meeting are consistent with theoretical mechanisms for modulating the earth’s magnetic energy. The fabled Ark of the Covenant is perhaps the best example of such a device.”
Kismet made a sour face at the reference, but he did not comment.
“In any event, the Staff’s fate is unknown. Some traditions hold that Moses placed it inside the Ark. Others believe that it returned to God. One thing is certain, with the passing of Moses, the frequency and magnitude of miracles began to diminish. The Bible tells how Joshua stopped the sun in its tracks and threw down the walls of Jericho, but remember that he was in the company of priests hand-selected by Moses. It is also quite likely that some of these events—stopping the sun, for instance—were embellished to establish Joshua’s legitimacy.
“I tend to believe that the Staff remained in the care of those priests, even though they gradually lost touch with the knowledge of how to use it. As the traditions of their new religion deepened and victory in their wars brought an end to the need for uncanny power, the priests forgot how to utilize the awesome resource that lay at their fingertips. In fact, according to the Bible, the Ark was put into storage until the time of King David.