by Robert Ryan
Mordecai started to say something but Zeke held up a hand. “I know. Believe me, I know. But if I find it, I want to go down there to confront and defeat Satan. That is what I propose to do to stop the evil.”
Mordecai folded his arms across his large chest. Morning sun came through the window behind him and slanted across the floor. “You’re searching for Hell and Satan.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then why did you tell me Sodom and Gomorrah?”
“Let me show you something that will explain better than I can.”
Zeke opened the padded case. He removed the lid from the terra cotta jar, carefully sliding the rolled-up scrolls onto the desk and positioning Dr. Connolly’s translations and notes alongside them. Mordecai reached for one of the scrolls, then instinctively pulled back his hand.
“I wouldn’t,” Zeke said. “If the information I have is correct, these are somewhere around three to four thousand years old.” Mordecai’s gaze kept being drawn to the translations while Zeke explained. “The translations were done by Dr. James Connolly, a world-class paleographer. I trust his translations completely. He had been studying these since 1947, when a Bedouin brought them to him. You should look this material over before we continue our conversation. It’s the primary evidence I have that Hell and Satan exist. I can go look around the museum while you do that. How much time do you need?”
Eyes that had been dulled by sadness now gleamed. “Give me an hour.”
Zeke looked at his watch. “See you around one-thirty.”
When he returned an hour later, Mordecai had Connolly’s notes in one hand and a page from the scroll translations in the other. Zeke slid back into his chair. “What do you think?”
Mordecai laid the pages on the desk. “Astonishing, if these translations are accurate.”
“I’d bet on it.”
“Proof that there is a God. And a Satan. And a Hell. Answers to questions humanity has been asking since we first began to think.”
“I know,” Zeke said. “They change everything.”
“The biggest challenge is the deadline Enoch gives us for the”—he made quotation marks with his fingers—“‘day of reckoning’.” December 21. Not quite two months. I can rush things through the bureaucracy, but the archaeology itself…Digging is slow, painstaking work. And you can never be sure what you will find—if anything.”
“I know, Mordecai. Believe me, I know.”
“In the best case we might start the actual dig in a few weeks, a month. That leaves a little over a month to find what we’re looking for. Hell, no less. I never like to use the word impossible, but—”
“Me neither. And if the normal rules of archaeology applied, what we’re trying to do would be absurd. But they don’t apply, Mordecai. If we accept what these scrolls tell us, we have to throw common sense and everything life has taught us out the window. Enoch says we will get help from the Messiah. If we decide to do this, we have to believe in divine intervention. We have to believe we have been chosen to do this. If it is meant to be, we will succeed. If not, so be it. Still, before we go marching off to Gehenna, a second opinion is probably a good idea. Dr. Connolly had been a priest, so some Catholic bias may have crept into his interpretation. I can leave them with you for your experts to study.”
“A very good idea. Several opinions are wise when dealing with the complexity of ancient language. Especially with something so improbable as scrolls from Lot and Enoch. These would turn the world of archaeology upside down. And please rest assured that we would take excellent care of them. Our people have spent years dealing with the tiniest fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls, among other things. For them these would be the Holy Grail.” He drained the rest of his coffee. “So the idea is to find Sodom and Gomorrah first, then search for an opening near there that would lead you to Hell.”
“Correct.”
Mordecai plucked at his earlobe while formulating a response. “I can safely say this is the most unusual proposal to come across my desk in the twelve years I’ve been here.”
“Nothing else comes close, I would imagine.”
“Not remotely. A dig for Sodom and Gomorrah alone would be unprecedented. Finding those two cities has been a Holy Grail of sorts for archaeologists, and people wanting to prove the Bible, for thousands of years. Theories of their location are literally all over the map, but all place them in or around the Dead Sea. Still, no one has been sure enough—and had the resources—to mount a dig specifically to find them.”
“In his notes Dr. Connolly gives his reasons for believing that they are under the shallow southern basin of the Dead Sea.”
“I have not had time to evaluate everything,” Mordecai said. “But even if our people agree with your Dr. Connolly’s conclusions, I think you would have to agree that, to go from that to a search for Hell…and Satan himself…”
“I know. I don’t blame you for being skeptical. I was myself. But this is the only concrete proof I have. I have other proof, but only to myself. Things I have seen. You would only have my word for those.”
“Such as?”
Zeke hesitated but quickly realized he had to tell this man everything if he was going to earn his trust. He related the strange incidents since he’d gotten the scroll—in particular, Jesus Himself asking for help when the Station of the Cross came to life at the Shrine. Mordecai’s response surprised him.
“I too have seen a vision, of sorts.”
“Really? What did you see?”
He told of the weeping olive tree in the Garden of Gethsemane. “From a scientific standpoint, it doesn’t hold up. I wonder if Hassan and I weren’t just caught up in the emotion of the moment.”
“Science doesn’t have all the answers, Mordecai. We both know that. The entire existence of the universe is based on a theory. The Big Bang, which seems to be getting revised every day. Science certainly can’t explain what I saw in the Shrine—but I know I saw it. In the case of your Judas tree, there is an ancient legend that says a person’s soul lives on in a tree that grows over their grave.”
“Hassan and I have talked about that. Mythology often links trees and souls. Wood nymphs from the Greek are the best known. Dryads. Still, it’s a long way from there to a belief in Satan.”
“Can’t argue that,” Zeke said.
Mordecai nodded toward the translations. “Interesting that your friend should place Sodom and Gomorrah in the southern basin.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I have been studying photos from the latest shuttle expedition. Several years ago, shuttle photos showing shadowy underwater anomalies in the northern part of the sea helped to launch the last serious search for Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“I read about it on the Internet the other night. A small submarine went down to the bottom, but they found nothing.”
“Yes. But the photos I’ve been studying are much clearer. The new digital cameras they use are a quantum leap. NASA brags that they can take clear pictures of second base on a baseball diamond. I don’t know about that, but these latest pictures are phenomenal. And I’m seeing something at the southern end of the sea. Part of that, I’m sure, is because the water is so much shallower there.”
“I did some research on the Dead Sea,” Zeke said. “I wondered about the rock-hard salt crust that forms over the bottom. If Sodom and Gomorrah are down there, it seems like that would make archaeology difficult.”
“Very much so. Marine archaeology is ten—some say twenty—times harder than terrestrial. In the Dead Sea, with all the salt and chemicals, the density of the water—multiply that times ten. No dig has ever been attempted there.”
“I haven’t done any diving in a long time, but I was certified in the Army. With the Dead Sea being so hard to sink in, seems to me you’d need to wear an awful lot of lead stay down. I read one story of a diver drowning because he had on so much weight he couldn’t get back up. Is an underwater dig even possible?”
�
�It would be difficult, but not impossible. There is a small company that takes people on what they call ‘extreme dives’ in the Dead Sea. Before that, they did commercial work in that water for many years. They know more about diving there than anyone. I know the owner. He and I could work something out. Probably I would hire the marine archaeologists, and he or one of his people could train them.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“That would be the easy part. Before you could even dig you’d have to break up that salt crust. It’s like concrete. The mining company uses dredges, with huge industrial augurs that constantly grind it up and pump it away. We would have to lease one of those.
“Once the crust was removed, our divers could start looking. If we found clear evidence of Sodom and Gomorrah, we could consider building a cofferdam, but you can’t go to all that trouble and expense until you’re sure you’re digging in the right place. You are familiar with cofferdams?”
“Yes. We built a small one as a training exercise in the Army. Essentially you drop sheets of some sturdy material into the sea bottom to create a walled structure, then you drain the water from inside so you can work on dry land.”
“Exactly. But again, building one of the size we’d need, in the Dead Sea, could easily cost a million or more and take months. Unless you were sure you were digging in the right place, it would make no sense. And with our deadline…”
Zeke nodded. “What did you see in the shuttle photos?”
“Shadows under the water of the southern basin. Near the Israeli-Jordanian border, which runs down the middle. Fortunately, the shadows are on our side. Boats have sunk in the sea going back to antiquity, so that could explain some of them. But some have straighter edges, which tends to indicate something more like a building, perhaps. But not necessarily. They could just be chemical deposits. Or ancient trees from when that was dry land. Or nothing. Even with your friend’s interpretation, there is no way to know until you start digging.”
“You have to start somewhere. Assuming your paleographers agree with Dr. Connolly, when you put everything together, that seems like a good place.”
“Agreed.”
“What about getting permission from the mining company to dig on their property?”
“That would not be a problem. The land belongs to Israel, they just lease it. And archaeology always comes first in Israel, although we work closely with the Department of Tourism, coming up with ways to make sites attractive for tourists to bring money into the economy.”
“That should be an easy sell. If we find Sodom and Gomorrah, Israel will have a tourist attraction as big as the pyramids. Bigger, considering the lure of evil.”
Mordecai nodded. “Sadly, I must agree. Evil is big business. People always want to visit the places where the worst things happened. In any case, we would only be working in a small area of the mining operation, and they could work around us. Aside from permissions, there would still be all the other problems associated with any dig. Logistics would be a better word, since you are a military man. Equipment, personnel, lodging. It would get very expensive very quickly. The expense would be the hardest part for me to sell.”
Zeke launched into the sales pitch he’d been rehearsing.
“Quite understandable. Everything always boils down to money, so let’s talk about my proposal in financial terms. I would pay the entire expense of the dig, up to five million dollars. I don’t know all the costs associated with such a project, but I’ve got to believe that if we spend five million and still haven’t found Sodom and Gomorrah, it’s time to give it up.”
“I agree. It shouldn’t cost nearly that much for us to reach a conclusion.”
“In any case,” Zeke said, “we will create jobs and be putting money into an area that desperately needs it. I know tourism is a huge part of the economy, and the southern basin of the Dead Sea is one of the main tourist destinations. The hotels there are suffering badly because of terrorism. Not just there. Tourism throughout the country is suffering. But imagine if we find Sodom and Gomorrah. It would be arguably the greatest find of all time. Like finding Atlantis. And of course Israel would have ownership of all the artifacts discovered, which would be priceless. And the whole thing would not have cost you a shekel.”
Mordecai leaned back, clasped his hands across his stomach, and smiled. “You are a very persuasive man. Perhaps you should make the sales pitch.”
“I’ll leave that in your capable hands. If your people say yes, we need to get started as soon as possible. Would you be able to help me put the dig together?”
“Yes. That is my job. In this case, it would be my pleasure.”
“Sounds like you would have plenty to keep you busy.”
“It would be a good busy. A much better busy than the paper-shuffling I’ve been doing.”
“I’d want to keep this whole thing as quiet as possible. Especially the Hell part. If that got out, the media and religious fanatics would descend on us like a plague of locusts.”
“Oh, I had no intention of mentioning the Hell part. You’ve convinced me, but my colleagues would never believe it. I wouldn’t blame them. As far as keeping a dig for Sodom and Gomorrah quiet…we won’t advertise it, but these things get out, Zeke. Too many people would have to know about it. There would be no way to keep it secret. We’d draw some attention, but probably not too much. People aren’t very interested in the start of a dig—only when it’s done and you’ve actually found something.”
“Fine,” Zeke said. “Listen, Mordecai, I’m no archaeologist. Once the dig was underway we’d need someone on-site to oversee the operation. Could you do that, with your responsibilities here?”
“Yes. My assistant is very capable. I’d have to check in periodically, but yes. I could be your field director. I would like that very much.”
“Excellent.”
Mordecai opened his mouth as if to say something else, but hesitated.
“What?” Zeke said.
“I have several top professionals in mind for key positions, most of them Israelis. Jews. But there is someone else I’d want to hire. The man I spoke of earlier. Hassan. The one who was going to marry my daughter. I gave him his first marine archaeology job when he got out of college. He’s very good. Rusty, because he’s been working on land for many years, but we can get him up to speed quickly. But the reason I want him is much more personal than professional. It’s the vow he and I made to do something to stop the senseless slaughter. This dig is it. He needs it like I do, deep down in his soul.”
“Then give him the job. What’s the problem?”
Again, Mordecai hesitated. “There are a couple problems. He is Palestinian. An Arab among all those Jews…They are all professionals, but…the potential for friction would be very high. Very bad for a dig.”
Impatience rippled through Zeke and he leaned forward. “Mordecai, listen. I’ve had it with Arabs and Jews hating each other for all eternity. So has the rest of the world. It’s a crock of shit. You understand that expression? Crock of shit?”
He stifled a grin. “I’ve used it many times when I’m with my American friends.”
“The whole reason for this dig is to eliminate evil—hate—from the world. To bring people together in peace and harmony. That starts on my dig. Here’s an idea: If we find Sodom and Gomorrah, maybe Israel and the Palestinians could actually work together to develop its economic potential for the benefit of both parties. God knows they’ve been talking about it for decades. I like to think that all God’s children will come together in the end, to live happily ever after in Heaven with the Almighty, but down here, nothing promotes togetherness like the almighty dollar.”
“You do have a way with words. I’m not sure I want to play Scrabble with you.”
“Stick to those annoying 3-letter words and I’ll self-destruct.”
“Your idea of a joint project has merit. Israel and the PLO agreed to work together for their mutual economic benefit almost twenty years ag
o, in the Oslo Accords. You remember those?”
Zeke remembered them very well. He’d read them with great interest when he’d found out that the Accords had gone into effect on the exact same day in 1993 as the horror in the jungle. “Yes. Many lofty promises were made that were never kept.”
“Maybe it’s time.”
“It is time. Can you dust off those agreements and get people talking to each other?”
“I will make it part of my proposal.”
“Good. Now—as far as having your Palestinian friend on our dig, if we can’t bring two people together, how can we bring together seven billion? The people on my dig are going to leave their prejudice at the door. If they have a problem with that, I’ll handle it. I’d love to get their butts all in the same room and talk—or knock—some sense into them.”
“Some of these men might not be easy to knock. They were in Special Forces. Tough as nails.”
“I was in Special Forces also. If they’re the nail, I’m the hammer. Don’t worry about it. It’s probably not even going to be an issue. If it is, I’ll handle it. Trust me. You said there were a couple problems. What’s the other one?”
“Hassan would need to know the ultimate reason for the dig.”
“You mean Hell.”
Rosen nodded.
Zeke’s eyes bore into him. “You trust him?”
“Completely.”
“Is he a good man?”
“I would have been proud to have him for a son.”
“Then tell him. I’m happy to leave all the details in your hands. You’re the expert. I only have one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Whenever a decision has to be made about how to proceed, I have the final word.”
“Understood.”
Zeke stood to go. “We both have things to do. Keep me posted and I’ll do the same. Here’s my card with my cell phone number.”
“If our team of paleographers agrees with your friend’s interpretation of the scrolls, I will begin the wheels turning. In any case your proposal is my top priority. We will have the combined knowledge of some of the best paleographers in the world working on this, and I’ll be pushing things along as fast as possible. I’ll keep you posted every step of the way.” He came around the desk and took Zeke’s hand and held it. “Whatever happens, thank you for bringing hope into this old man’s life.”