‘Lovely story. I always did wonder where rainbows came from. Right. What about the Sumerian version?’
‘Well, there are many historical layers to the Sumerian version. It’s a little complicated. Some fragments of the flood narrative date back to the turn of the second millennium B.C.E. in Sumerian poems. Others are found in Atrahasis, an epic written in Akkadian dating back to 1750–1650 B.C.E. But, the most complete story is revealed in the eleventh tablet of the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Standard Akkadian version. And that one is the most recent one, dating back to 1300–1100 B.C.E.. It’s pretty much the same story as the biblical one with a few twists; some Gods are displeased with the continuous noise that humans make and decide to destroy humanity, but others are on the humans’ side and entrust Utnapishtim, their ‘Noah’, to build an ark, they get into the ark, he sends out the birds, yada yada yada.’
‘OK. What about the tablet?’
‘I’m impressed. Last time I spoke to you, you kept interrupting me.’
‘You’re obviously getting better at telling stories.’ He grinned broadly at her. ‘The weather is getting worse. Do you know that Safed sometimes gets snowed in? I read that on the Internet yesterday. That’s if I was looking at the right place; there is a ton of different ways of spelling Safed.’
‘It’s Tsfat in Hebrew but it’s confusing, as sometimes it is also spelled Sefad or Sfad. It’s a really important town. It has been a prestigious centre of learning for over four hundred years and it’s one of Israel’s four sacred cities, together with Jerusalem, Hebron, and Tiberias… Did you say snow?’
‘It is over 900 metres above sea level.’
‘I hope you found us some coats and gloves?’
‘Mina. I’m a soldier. Preparation, preparation, preparation. Of course I have. So, the tablet?’
‘Yes. It differs from the Standard twelve tablets in philological ways that I can’t explain entirely until I’ve seen it again, but I don’t think that matters so much. What I find most intriguing is how different it is from the eleventh… there are loads of weird calculations.’
‘Calculations?’
‘Well the Sumerians were very advanced in mathematics and….’
‘Really? I thought the Greeks invented all that stuff?’
‘You’re doing it again.’
‘What?’
‘Interrupting me.’
‘Sorry. Go on.’
‘The Greeks were thinkers. They theorised about everything. The Sumerians and Chaldeans were quite different, they were obsessed with astronomy and astrology, which involved advanced mathematics. What is weird is that both the Sumerian and Hebrew original flood narratives contain the measurements of the ark, but nothing more in terms of mathematics.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘God tells Noah or, in the Sumerian version, different Gods tell Utnapishtim how to build the ark, how long it should be, how wide and so on. But the tablet I found provides lots of other calculations and formulas, which are far beyond my reach.’
‘Maybe I can help on that. Engineering and math, that’s me.’
‘You mean you don’t just shoot people and save damsels in distress?’
‘Now you’re being silly.’
‘I know.’
Mina stopped talking for a little while. Jack observed her from the corner of his eye. She seemed to be pondering something.
‘What are you mulling over?’
‘There may be another group of people after the tablet.’
‘Why? Oberon’s not enough for you?’
‘When you followed me, were you wearing a disguise?’
‘No.’
‘There was another man following me at the airport in Mosul and in Amman. He looked Middle Eastern, wearing a dark suit and with a long beard, I’m sure it was the same man.’
‘I remember that man in Amman,’ said Jack all of a sudden.
‘You saw him?’
‘I saw you watching someone ‘ he said.
‘What if he is part of a Muslim sect trying to retrieve the tablet for their own purpose? Who else grows such beards?’
‘The Amish?’
She giggled. Jack had a wonderful way of taking the tension out of the worst situations with a joke.
‘And Noah is referred to over 40 times in the Qur’an; he is an important figure in Islam.’
‘So what? You sound like some people I know: they’re wearing headscarves, so they must be terrorists!’
‘OK. I’ll tell you another story. According to Muslim belief, the ark is supposed to have circumnavigated the Ka’ba in Mecca before the waters of the flood receded.’
‘You’re kidding right?’
‘No. And another tradition holds that Noah’s grave is in the mosque in Mecca. Maybe my research has attracted the attention of a Muslim group completely unrelated to Oberon Wheatley.’
‘Maybe. But even if you’re right, these guys haven’t made a move, so, let’s concentrate on what we know.’
‘Oberon obviously believes the tablet would be worth millions if he could use it to forecast events ahead of competitors.’
‘Using the calculations you spoke of?’
‘Maybe. The other really weird element is that the tablet relates the Jewish moralistic view that humanity turned evil and was in need of radical cleansing through annihilation.’
‘Yes, you have told me about that before, but what do you make of it?’’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe it’s a rebus of some sort. You know, like a code?’ Jack said.
‘You sound just like my student Hassan right now.’
‘I’m really starting to warm up to that boy!
After a few miles he got off the road, stopped at a small petrol station, and parked near the restaurant area.
‘Let’s take a break. I can’t see anything ahead with this rain. The weather’s awful. I don’t know about you, but I need a coffee and something to eat.’
‘I do too, but don’t you think Oberon could get his hands on the tablet before us?’
‘No, not in this weather. Besides, he thinks you’re at the bottom of the sea. Remember?’
They ordered coffee and two goat’s cheese sandwiches and sat down.
‘I’m famished. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.’
Mina froze, hit again by an onslaught of memories of the events that had lead her to be rescued by Jack from the depths of the sea.
‘Thank you for saving my life Jack… twice.’
‘Let’s not make too much of a habit of it. I value my own life too you know.’
‘Hmm. So, mystery man, tell me about you.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Are you really an engineer?’
‘Yup. The army realised early on I had a special aptitude for maths, so they enrolled me in their engineering and water management courses.’
‘How long were…Are you still in the army?’
‘I joined in my late teens, and sort of quit a few years ago.’
‘Sort of?’
‘Well, I quit officially but since then I’ve participated as an independent contractor for certain missions.’
‘Like a mercenary?’ She asked, taken aback.
‘If that’s how you want to see it, yes. But it isn’t really like that. It’s well paid and I can choose my missions and work with people who won’t screw them up.’
Jack seemed to hesitate but then added, ‘I’ve also worked for non-military agencies over the years for which I received special training, but that’s all I can say about them.’
Mina let the information sink in and then swiftly changed the subject.
‘So, why did you quit the army?’
‘For a number of reasons but mainly because the job felt repetitive. I’d go in with a team, do the job, and leave. I never exchanged a word with civilians on the ground. One day I woke up and just felt that people and missions had become figures and statistics.’
&nbs
p; ‘Were you only stationed in Iraq?’
‘God no. I’ve worked in many hot spots: Bosnia, Somalia, on the Thai-Burmese border, you name it. But I spent the last few years in and out of Iraq. I heard of the many water-related humanitarian projects, like the one at the village where you met me. I had engineering knowledge and the military training to pull it off. I saw an opportunity for change and I quit.’
‘I’m glad you made that choice. I may never have met you otherwise.’
‘It felt good, you know; I felt in touch with people again, not just fellow soldiers. Your arrival changed everything. I was suddenly catapulted back into special forces mode.’ He winked and added, ‘but it wasn’t all bad.’
After a silence, Jack said, ‘I hope when all this is over we can go for a stroll in the moonlit desert. I know a nice spot close to a village outside Mosul.’
‘I’d like that very much,’ Mina beamed.
It was time to get back to the van. They dressed up warmly with coats Jack had stacked up in the back, alongside sacks she did not dare ask about. ‘Probably more soldiering toys,’ she thought to herself.
‘Tell me more about the flood,’ Jack said when they were back on the road. ‘It’s obvious that it’s the root of all our problems right now. And what’s this Chinese oracle bone Wheatley spoke of? I’d love to see it for myself.’
‘The first thing you need to understand is that almost every ancient civilisation has its own flood myth.’
‘Don’t be so superior. Obviously there must be other flood myths around. Even today, there are floods all over the world, every day.’
‘I’m not being superior! God you’re touchy. There’s just so much to explain. I don’t know where to begin.’
‘OK. Just pretend I’m one of your pubescent students. I’m sure it will help to simplify all this.’
‘Now who’s being superior?’
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘Alright. I’m not referring to floods in general. I’m talking about the flood, the original one. The flood story from the Bible that you know so well involving Noah and his ark is found in different variations all over the world: the Greeks, for example, have the myth of Deucalion and Pyrrha who survived the flood.’
‘Why would that Greek story be the flood?’
‘Funny you should ask that. Most Christian authors in Antiquity felt the same way, as if the flood was their very own and only made sense within their religious framework. St Jerome believed that the Greek flood was a local flood and not the primordial flood described in the Bible.’
‘I like that. You’re comparing me to a saint.’
‘Yeah, that’s wishful thinking. I’m pretty sure you’re no saint. I managed to do some reading on this subject last week, so let me tell you all about it while it is still fresh in my memory. No interruptions?’
Jack pretended to zip his mouth. She put on a serious air and explained, ‘There’s a Chinese Book called the Shujing, which was probably written around 700 B.C.E. It describes Emperor Da Yu controlling the flood waters that reached to the Heavens. Other parts of Asia have flood myths too. In Vietnam, the Sre people believe a horrific flood came from the sea and covered the earth, destroying everything. Of all humanity only a young man and his sister survived. They floated in a drum, and as the waters abated, they were left high and dry on the top of Mount Yang-La. In India, the flood story begins with terrible winds and rain which last a hundred years. Closer to home, the Native American Hopi explain that the swelling of the primordial river brought about the flood after everyone had become evil and gone mad during the ‘first world’: young men would make love to old women, old men with young girls, people killing each other, people becoming sick, etc. Then comes the flood. In South America, the Aztecs believed that humanity was devastated by a flood during the Fourth sun. All survivors were transformed into monkeys.’
‘Amazing. What about other continents? Africa, for example?’
‘In Africa, Bantus believe that a genie called Nzondo first provoked a terrible flood, at the origin of river Zair, and then disappeared. Should I go on Jack?’
‘OK. But if everyone has a primordial flood story, obviously some global physical disaster must have that triggered it? Was it a destructive comet?’
‘Maybe it is the mythical expression of the end of the Ice Age and the coming of global warming.’
‘I see what you mean… the amount of melted ice must have caused tremendous floods all over the planet.’
‘Who knows? The Sumerians, Hebrews and the Native Americans saw the flood as a punishment for human wickedness, but for others, it marks the unavoidable end of a Golden Age and the passage to darker times.’
‘Thank you Professor.’
‘You’re welcome, young man. What I don’t understand is what Oberon told me before he… he…’
It was no use, she burst into tears again. Jack stopped the car on the side road. He unbuckled his seat belt, turned towards her and stroked her hair as he spoke to her in a deep and soothing voice.
‘Hey. You’ll be alright. Just focus on one thing – you’re still alive. You beat him.’
He gave her a tissue to dab her lip, which had started bleeding again.
‘Mina, what were you saying before? What didn’t you understand?’
She breathed in deeply and said ‘Why a Chinese text would mention the existence of five tablets from Mesopotamia.’
He thought about it for a moment, ‘It beats me. We should ask a specialist when we are back to the US.’
As they drove higher in the foothills, Jack slowed down considerably, because the rain had transformed into sleet, and visibility was much worse than at the outset of their trip. Including their half-hour stop, they had already added an hour and a half to the route.
‘We should be getting quite close to Safed now,’ Jack said eventually. ‘I hope the sky will clear. I’ve visited the north a few years ago with a friend. I’m sure that from the top of this hill you can see the Golan Heights to the East and Mount Hermon to the North – you know people ski there, but it would probably be cheaper for Israelis to fly to Switzerland.’
‘I didn’t know about Mount Hermon. Around here, what you can see for sure is Mount Meron, the burial place of Shimon Bar Yochai, the author of the Zohar, the mystical book of the Jews.’
‘The what? I thought their sacred book was the Bible? The Torah?’
‘The Zohar is a mystical book and central to the study of Kabbalah. It is said that people who aren’t trained long enough in the study of the Torah and try to read and understand the Zohar, will lose their mind in the process. It’s a dangerous book.’
‘Come on, Mina. We’re grown ups. That’s a bedtime story.’
‘I’m not joking. This is what I’ve read. I don’t know much about Kabbalah but it seems that this saintly man, Bar Yochai, was fleeing the Romans in the 1st century C.E. He hid himself in a cave. He eventually emerged enlightened and wrote this magical book. Well, that’s the story anyway. Some scholars think Bar Yochai was a bit like Homer with the Iliad and the Odyssey; you know, a sort of mythical writer ascribed to a book that is actually multi-layered and written over a long period of time by many authors.’
‘I’m sorry, I’ve heard this magical stuff all over the planet; India, South America and even back home with the Mormons and their golden plates. I simply don’t buy it.’
‘Well, you’d better buy it fast because we’re almost in Safed, kingdom of Kabbalah. And it isn’t popstar Kabbalah either. It’s the real deal.’
After twenty more minutes of driving, they finally saw Safed’s hill. As they approached, they were gradually entranced by the calm atmosphere of this ‘magic’ mountain. How better to describe a place which rises almost 3,000 feet above sea level, surrounded by forests and the purest of air, so conducive to meditation and clear thinking? By this time, the entire city was covered in a white mantle of snow. Mina thought of the kabbalists’ belief that the Schechina or the Manifest Presence
of God rested above the city. With so little water in the Promised Land, this vision of purity must have felt to some like a divine presence. After all, did not certain sages believe that the Messiah would appear first in Safed before travelling to Jerusalem?
Chapter 17
December 9th, 2004. Safed
While Mina waited in the van on Jerusalem Street, Jack picked up the stone tablet from the Merkazi Central Hotel and cancelled Mina’s reservation. He walked back to the van with the package, which Mina tore open. She breathed a long sigh of relief when she found the stone tablet, unscathed. Jack drove them through the Old Town. Mina expressed surprise at the large number of art galleries they were passing on the way and Jack explained that Safed had been at the forefront of contemporary Israeli and Jewish art for many years. The Old Town was not only home to some of the oldest of the seventy synagogues scattered around Safed but it was also famous for its so-called Artist’s Colony. New galleries appeared like mushrooms throughout the cobbled streets. Jack parked the van outside a small internet café.
As they walked into the café, Mina to Jack, ‘I remember reading about a nice guest house not too far from here, Bar-El. We could stay there.’
‘Frankly, I think we should get the hell out of here.’
‘Come on Jack. I have nothing to fear with you by my side.’
‘Mina, we’ve got the tablet, we’re safe. But Wheatley will find out today or tomorrow that you’re still alive and that you have the tablet. We should be on the other side of the planet right now.’
‘Give me two days to complete my research on Safed and then we can leave. I haven’t been through hell and back to return home empty-handed.’
‘I don’t like this. But if you must, here are my conditions: no sightseeing and we need to be as discreet as possible.’ Mina batted her eyelashes in agreement and smiled sweetly at him.
‘Women! I don’t know why I fall for this.’
The 13th Tablet Page 13