by K. B. Kofoed
Jim looked past the General at the Tabernacle and the glowing ark within then his eyes rose to follow the plume of the cloud into the sky. “Could the General be right, or am I listening to fractured logic?” he wondered.
His mind raced. It was undeniable that he was squarely in the middle of Thunderbolt, and he had to admit that it was his inspiration about the Mercy Seat that started it. In spite of his best efforts, the ark had haunted him nearly all of his adult life. All these things had led him to where he now stood, central to the recreation of the Ark of the Covenant.
Now he was beginning to think that because curiosity had brought him here and not the pursuit of greed and power, perhaps he was indeed qualified to be where he was. Perhaps God, if he exists, had been chasing after him all along.
Jim wanted desperately to tell the General that he was dead wrong, but he couldn’t because he no longer knew what was right or wrong. Try as he would, his logic always circled back to the mystery at hand.
“I’d like to say that I think you’re wrong, General,” said Jim, “but I won’t for two reasons. One, I don’t know if you’re wrong or not. And, two, that sight before my eyes speaks loudest. Here I am, exactly where I hoped I’d be, witnessing all this in person.”
The General nodded. “There you go.”
Jim shook his head as if to shake sense into his own mind. “And this means that you want ME to go in there, into the Tabernacle and talk to the ark?”
“You should probably be wearing the priest’s tunic and that thing, the ephod, and the crown.”
“I could be fried like Irwin and his men,” protested Jim.
“That’s correct,” said the General, “but we have to know. If it is God powering the ark, then we want ... we have to stand down from the project entirely. Call it all off.”
“When did you decide that?” asked Jim.
“When the President of the United States told me so.”
COVENANT
“Archbishop Frazetti raised a stink at a state luncheon at the White House over Project Thunderbolt and the way it was being administered,” General Wilcox said.
“I thought he might pull something like that,” Jim replied, “but that doesn’t make me the one to go into the sanctuary. I’m no Levite. The Bible clearly says that the Levites, Moses’ kin, were the only ones allowed to attend to the ark.”
“I’ve considered that, and I want you to talk to them about it. I want you to get as much information as possible, but I want it to be you that goes in.” The General took off his headset. “Infernal static,” he said. “Comes and goes.” He threw the headphones to the ground in disgust. Taking Jim by the arm, he started toward the communications trailer. “Let’s talk with our experts.”
As they walked Jim glanced back at the Tabernacle. A white mist hung in a column above it, and the light could still be seen pulsing inside the sanctuary.
The afternoon sun was casting longer shadows as Jim and the General entered the trailer. Two soldiers stationed inside snapped to attention as John and Gene stood up. Mr. Megabyte was at his console absorbed in his work and never looked up.
“Nothing of what we’re going to discuss is to leave this room,” the General commanded. “Is that clear?” He turned to the two soldiers and gestured toward the door with his chin. They left immediately.
Mr. Megabyte looked up from his computer and turned in his chair to face the General.
“Jim is going to put on the priest’s robes and go into the Tabernacle,” said the General.
Jim looked dubiously at the General. “I haven’t agreed to that.”
The General nodded. “I want Jim to go in, and these are my reasons.”
Gene raised a hand and asked if everyone, including the Levites, Aaron, and Marta, should also be present.
“I want to talk to you first because you know the background on this thing.” Without further rhetoric, the General covered the same points he’d stated to Jim earlier. When he got to the part about the president everyone stiffened. None of them even considered that the president might be in the loop.
“I can’t believe it,” said John. “So Frazetti went right to the top to screw things up.”
“He’s just doing his job as he sees it,” the General said calmly, “and so is the president. My guess is that the Israelis and the Vatican have gotten wind of this, so we need to act fast. We might bet shut down. The president wants to know if we’re dealing with God. That’s the skinny of it.”
“And you’re sacrificing Jim to do it?” asked Gene.
The General bit his lip and nodded. “If you have to put it that way, but I feel it has to be him. The Levites know the law. They know the ark. But they weren’t called here like Jim was.”
John laughed derisively. “Go ahead, Dad, buy into the religious myth if you want to, but this is science. That’s all. We have the best technological instruments available looking this thing over. It may seem all holy and mystical to you, but I assure you there’s going to be an explanation. Besides, who cares if the church gets its tunics in a bunch?”
“The President does, son. This is the Los Alamos national test facility. Even if the church backed us on this, then there’s Congress to deal with. We’re using taxpayer dollars to build this thing.”
“That’s right. Separation of church and state,” said the General’s son.
A knock at the door proved to be a courier with an envelope for the General. He had the General sign a clipboard, then saluted and left.
After looking it over the General cleared his throat. “This answers your question, son. ‘End Thunderbolt in 48 hours.’ Signed by the president. I guess that makes the situation plain, doesn’t it? I might also point out that this message came by courier. That should tell you something. Normally all messages would have come through the switchboard here, right?”
“Where did it come from?” asked John.
“Same people that called down the AWACs planes a few minutes ago, I’ll bet,” said Gene.
“They did?” The General seemed genuinely surprised.
“We tried to raise you, but the static ... ,” Earl said apologetically.
General Wilcox shrugged. “Whatever,” he said. “The point is that the president told me to determine, if possible, whether we have contacted space aliens or God. That’s all he seemed to care about. I’ve outlined the reasons I think Jim should be the one to go in. What do you say? Yes or no?”
There was some debate but finally the entire group, except Jim, had reached a consensus. The votes ranged from a cryptic “Whatever” from John to “Splendid idea, I’ll provide the barbecue sauce!” from Earl.
It was enough for the General.
Fifteen minutes later Jim was trying to fit into the High Priest’s robes in the trailer formerly reserved for Rabbi Levi. Every religious object not directly part of the Tabernacle was stored there, and Jim had to watch where he stepped. Moments after entering the trailer he nearly tripped over a bag of myrrh.
Seth agreed to tell Jim about the ritual associated with the ark, but it soon became obvious to Jim and the General that Seth only knew a few prayers but very little about any official ritual or even if there was one. He guessed that the rabbi may have been winging it. “It all came together so fast. All we were really expected to do was put the ark into the Tabernacle like the Old Testament says,” Seth admitted. “We never actually considered that it might, you know ...” He was talking to Jim, but his eyes never left General Wilcox.
Seth was clearly stressed. A whiff of acrid sweat from the man reinforced the notion. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I just don’t know what to tell you.”
“Fine,” General Wilcox replied. “Wilson’s basically as qualified as you are.”
Seth may not have agreed but he wasn’t going to say so.
Gene had accompanied Jim and the General into the Levites’ trailer. Since hearing that Jim might face the ark, Henson’s demeanor had changed. He was more attentive and eage
r to be helpful. “Don’t worry about it, Seth,” he’d said. “Remember, even the great priest Aaron was never allowed to look behind the curtain. He stood before the Lord and received the Law, like dictation. All he had to do was remember what the Lord said.”
Seth gave Gene and the General a dubious look. “I don’t think that’s entirely true,” he said carefully.
“I guess,” replied Gene, “but I’m talking about when he faced the ark ... the Holy of Holies.”
“Do you believe it’s the Lord?” Jim asked, completely out of the blue.
“Well, we have to operate as though that’s a possibility, don’t we?” Gene answered, seemingly surprised at Jim’s question.
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“Do I believe that we have God out there making that cloud? I don’t know,” said Gene, rubbing his chin doubtfully.
“Never mind,” said Jim. “It’s not important.”
Jim felt like he was being cast into the lion’s den alone, and unlike Daniel in the Bible he wasn’t confident that he had the necessary faith to sustain him. He considered what he’d read about the punishment meted out by the ark against infidels who pretended servitude to God. For all he knew what was powering the ark might be the same entity described in the Bible whose name means ‘militant wind.’ He knew that when people talked of fire and brimstone, of the Holy Wrath of God, they were usually referring to Yahweh and the Ark. This so-called machine was the slayer of thousands and the Lawgiver for the people of Israel. Jim knew the risks, but the desire to see the project through finally made him decide to go the distance.
He stripped to his underwear and pulled the robes Seth handed him over his head. He had trouble getting his head through the neck hole and got stuck for a moment. When he managed to get the robe on it was heavy, hot, much too tight and reeked of sweat.
Next he draped the ephod over his shoulders. It clattered as the heavy plates of chain-linked gold settled into place, covering his chest and back.
Jim complained that the tightness of the robe pressed his shoulders back uncomfortably. Gene had him take off the ephod, then he took scissors and cut a slit down the back, saying, “I guess the poor rabbi won’t mind if we do an alteration or two.”
Finally, with Seth’s help, the huge golden headpiece was adjusted to fit Jim’s head.
The General was waiting outside when Jim emerged from the trailer. Seeing Jim in robes astonished him and he almost broke out laughing.
Jim stood face to face with the General. “I want papers drawn up right now, General, that in the event of my death, my family will be set for life. How about two million dollars for starters?”
The General balked. “I don’t know if we have time to get the paperwork together right now, Jim, but if I agree to the price will you accept my word?”
“Not likely. I want it written up and signed by John. He’s a lawyer and a notary. I also want it witnessed by Gene. Make it simple, I don’t care, but I’m not going in there without protection for my family.”
As he outlined his demands something inside Jim nagged him. The more he said, the worse he felt. He looked at the Tabernacle: implacable, resolute. Its open portal beckoned to him silently. Was it really silent? Jim still heard the same droning sound he’d been hearing all along and had attributed to field generators throbbing somewhere behind the trailers. Now it had taken on a hive-like sound, like the droning of a million bees, or maybe a million voices.
He looked again at the cloud that undulated upward in a widening column, its misty surface glowing with pale opalescent colors where the sun shone on it. He wondered. Had his self importance blinded him? He looked at Gene, then back at the General. “Whatever,” he said sadly. “Do what you think is right. I guess I’m just stalling.”
“Does that mean you’re ready to go in?” asked the General.
“I guess so,” said Jim.
“No lawyers?” asked General Wilcox. “Are you sure?”
Jim simply nodded.
#
Rumors had spread throughout the camp that a civilian was getting suited up to probe the phenomenon in the mysterious tent, and scores of soldiers lined up on the rise for a better look.
The General was no longer worried about intelligence leaks, and certainly not from any of these troops. They were all special ops soldiers who had seen special duty before. Most of them would never talk about what they’d seen in their careers let alone now. And even if they did talk their stories would be deemed too fantastic to be believed by the general public. After all, the ark was the stuff of legend and myth.
The General had his spies among the soldier’s ranks and knew that with little more than guard duty to think about, the soldiers were speculating wildly about the mission. Each had his own take on what was happening. The consensus involved contact with extraterrestrials.
Jim looked at the rise. Twenty or more soldiers in battle fatigues, standing still as statues, stared back at him. A few of them were watching through binoculars. In his robes, crown and rattling ephod, Jim felt like a circus act, and his stomach was doing flip-flops. He waved to them and a couple actually waved back.
Over by the communications trailer John and Mr. Megabyte had come outside and were standing, watching like the soldiers.
Gene and the General walked behind Jim as they passed through the gate to the courtyard. Behind them, the Levites, led by Seth, joined the procession. Gene tapped Jim on his shoulder. “You must be boiling in those robes, Jim.”
“It’s worse to think a man died in them.”
Gene winced at the remark. “Riiiight.”
The group continued moving toward the Tabernacle in a procession, except for Gene who was now next to Jim, talking to him. Jim touched Gene on his shoulder. “I’ve got to do this,” he said, “and I want to do it.”
“I see that,” said Gene, a bit sadly.
“I wrote a note to Kas. If anything happens to me it’s in my shirt pocket in their trailer.” Jim glanced at the Levites walking slowly behind them.
“Jeez, this is looking more like a funeral procession now,” Gene muttered.
“Look Gene, I want this,” said Jim forcing a smile. “If I die, then it’s God’s will, I guess.”
Gene patted the gold plate on Jim’s back. “I think you’ll be okay. Take it easy in there.”
As Jim walked past the altar he noticed the blood the priest had spilled around its base. It looked black where it soaked into the earth. Remembering the voice and what it had said to him, he stopped and took off his shoes as he had done before. Finally he felt ready to meet his fate.
Jim stood for almost a minute at the mouth of the Tabernacle staring at the curtain that hid the ark. He could almost make out the curved parabola of the angels overhanging the Mercy Seat. Then he realized that the candles of the menorah weren’t lit. He turned and stepped outside the tent and waved to Seth, who stood next to the mouth of the Tabernacle. “The candles aren’t lit.”
“The thing we used to light the menorah is out of fuel. Do you think a lighter would be okay?” asked Seth.
“Do I? How would I know?” said Jim.
Seth ran to the General and asked to borrow his lighter, but before the General would part with it he quickly lit a cigar. Then he waved to Jim from behind the altar and handed the lighter to Seth.
“This is nuts,” said Jim as he took the lighter and tested it a few times. He waved to the General, told Seth to close the curtains behind him, and he stepped into the Tabernacle.
When the heavy curtains swung closed the entire Tabernacle swayed slightly. Then he heard the sound, the buzzing sound, again. It was coming directly from the ark. The more he listened to it the more he realized that the entire tabernacle was vibrating in resonance with the sound.
Jim walked slowly to the menorah and used the General’s golden butane lighter to ignite each of the seven lamps. That finished, he returned to the center of the Tabernacle and advanced toward the veil that hid the Holy o
f Holies. The buzzing seemed to penetrate his brain, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He wondered if the vibrations were being picked up by the heavy gold disk that covered his forehead. The disk bore a Hebrew inscription that Seth had carved into it after the Rabbi died. He said it meant “I am of God” and that the inscription should have been there from the beginning.
As Jim neared the ark the buzzing became much louder and seemed to come from inside himself, from the very center of his mind. He became afraid as never before and began to say the only prayer he knew. He’d learned it as a child in Sunday school so long ago. “Our father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name ...”
The buzzing sound grew even louder. A single word came to his mind. Soft and in the distance, as though echoing between the stars: “REMEMBER.”
The veil before him seemed to get thinner as he stared at the pulsing light beyond. Shadows of the wings of the cherubim played on the ceiling and the decorated tapestries that lined the sanctuary. No longer did Jim feel lost and alone. He was standing amid multitudes of beings whirling around between the shadows and the flickering light. He remembered the music he’d heard while watching Aaron fashion the Mercy Seat. Was he hearing that too?
He was standing only a few feet from the glowing ark. Now, almost as though it had burned through the curtain, he could see it in detail. He saw the pulsing orb of intense white light between the cherubim, and he heard the word repeat over and over. “REMEMBER,” it said to him, in a voice he now recognized. It was his voice and it was everyone’s. Perhaps it was consciousness itself.
Jim was bathing in the light of a hundred suns. His body felt warm, no longer burdened by the robes and the golden armor that covered them. There was something else, a feeling of comfort and love. He wanted to ask, “Remember what?” but he couldn’t speak.
When he found himself outside the Tabernacle staring at the surprised faces of the General and the Levites, he still hadn’t understood what the voice had meant. Maybe there was nothing to do but “remember” as the voice had said.