The Scroll

by Grant R. Jeffrey

  “Amber? I prefer you leave her out of this.”

  “That’s the whole point: it doesn’t matter what you want. If I want you to do something so contrary to your beliefs, then I have to find something you love more than those beliefs. So I kidnap Dr. Rodgers and send you a photo and maybe a finger or an eye. If you love her, then you’ll do anything to save her. I’ve seen it repeatedly. Take suicide bombers. There are some who will kill themselves and others because they believe in the cause, but many do so to save their families.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “No, I’m quite pleasant. However, there are many truly disgusting people out there. I’ve been dealing with them for years. Here’s my point: the work is going to require a lot of workers. My team can run background checks on them, but someone could get them in the future. Yes, I’m paranoid. I have the scars to prove I earned the right to be paranoid. Wanna see them?”

  “Not really.”

  “Good. Am I getting through to you? I cannot have a loose cannon like you on my deck, if you know what I mean. You do know what I mean, right?”

  “I’ve got the picture.”

  Landau leaned forward, his expression softening. “I hate to barge in and bust your chops like this, but I saw no way around it. So I’ll make a deal with you: you don’t interfere with my work, and I won’t interfere with yours. If all this talk about the Copper Scroll is true, then you’re on the adventure of a lifetime. You’re also walking through dark valleys. There’s already been one murder related to this project; I refuse to let there be another one, and if that means I have to move into this room with you or handcuff you to the biggest, ugliest man on my team, then I’ll do it.”

  “The stuff of nightmares.”

  “If you want nightmares, Dr. Chambers, then you can have a few of mine. I’d like to shed a few.”

  “No thanks. I imagine yours would turn my stomach.”

  Landau looked distant for a moment, and Chambers wondered what the man had been through. “I know they turn mine.” He stood. “I apologize for my approach, but I felt it was necessary. We good?”

  For a moment, Chambers thought Landau would offer his hand. He didn’t. “I guess, but my throat still hurts.”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t leave any marks. I never leave marks.”

  Landau nodded and walked from the room as if nothing had happened.

  Chambers moved into the bathroom and looked at his neck. Landau hadn’t been kidding, his neck was free of any marks and showed just a general redness. He thought about what had just happened, reliving the worst moments.

  He stepped to the toilet and vomited.

  Amber was tired of the roller-coaster ride known as David Chambers. When they had first met as assistant dig directors working in the ruins of what had once been called Caesarea Maritima, she found David charming and winsome, quick with a joke, and long winded about the work. At times he would forget that she knew the history of the city and harbor as well as he and waxed on in almost poetic prose about Herod the Great and how he had built the city shortly before the first century. She let him ramble. There was something about his voice and his zeal that captivated her.

  That was then. Now her stomach tightened at the sight of him. Over the weeks, things had settled, and she was once again beginning to relax in his presence. Then he marched out of a tunnel that may hold archaeology’s greatest find.

  The professional part of her agreed with him. Haste had no place in archaeology. She was used to moving through time one layer of dirt after another, and then only after everything had been mapped and a grid laid out. Professor Ben-Judah was suggesting that decades of field practice be chucked and with it his reputation as well as hers, Nuri’s, and David’s.

  Had he just protested, she might have taken his side, but to storm from the tunnel like a disappointed teenage girl was too much. She decided there was nothing more she could do for him. She would do her work with excellence. It was all she could do.

  That and pray.

  She had been lax in that. Her prayer life had taken a backseat to research and preparation. When she wasn’t involved in those things or sleeping, Nuri was pressing her to spend time with him.

  Amber walked the tunnel again, videotaping every detail she could. She had some of the workers clear off a few of the stone treads so she could record their size and construction. Edward Cove had taken, by her estimate, close to one hundred photos and downloaded them to a small laptop he carried in his kit. In David’s absence, Ben-Judah had taken charge, not that it was needed. He made no decision that she or Nuri couldn’t have made, but they deferred to him and greeted each decision with enthusiasm.

  She watched the elderly scholar oscillate between joy over discovery of the tunnel and disappointment in David. Why couldn’t a man as intelligent as he see the pain he caused in others? Myopic, plain and simple. He refuses to acknowledge that other people know what they’re doing.

  She started down the tunnel again, this time taking footage with the benefit of a string of lights that had been set on metal stands every few feet. Details of the tunnel were much easier to see. She spent ninety minutes making the recording. It was all the time Ben-Judah would allow. He wanted to open the chamber below the stairs first thing in the morning. He also wanted the rubble at the end of the tunnel cleared. The workers would have an even longer night.

  Before exiting the tunnel, she paused to wonder how many people it took to carve out such a straight tunnel and to do so with only iron hand tools. The number of man-hours must have been enormous. It was faith that drove them to do this. Most people have no idea what a powerful motivator faith is.

  She moved up the low grade and for a moment imagined she could see a line of men in robes walking before her.

  Outside, the sky had turned from blue to a dark cobalt. Soon the dome would be black, sequined with stars. “It’s all yours, Professor.”

  “Thank you.” Ben-Judah nodded at Nuri, who clapped his hands and ordered the workers to follow him into the tunnel.

  “I will supervise the removal of the debris; Amber will supervise its placement for later study.” Nuri pointed. “While you were recording, I had some of the men clear an area just a few meters to the side. How do you want us to proceed?”

  “I suggest that we distinguish between tooled stone and natural. We’ll be able to make some assessment on the tools and techniques they used.” She stopped. “I mean, after we open the voids.”

  “You should do this for a living.” Nuri smiled at his own joke, then headed into the tunnel, followed closely by his assistant, Simon. Amber’s assistant had the day off for a wedding, which was fine with her. She liked working alone.

  Cove stood near the entrance snapping photos of the men entering to work.

  She looked at Ben-Judah. “You should go back to the hotel and eat, Professor. There is nothing more you can do here. It will take hours to remove the debris, and we won’t be opening anything until tomorrow. We certainly won’t open anything without you present.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ll stay here. We need to feed the men, though.”

  “I’ll send someone back with food for everyone.”

  Amber smiled, then let the corners of her mouth dip. “I’m sorry about David.”

  “You have no reason to be sorry, my dear. David is a passionate man and a great archaeologist. I’m making him do what I myself would have never done, and wouldn’t if things were not so … pressing.”

  “Pressing? I don’t understand.”

  “Nothing, Dr. Rodgers. Just a tired old man talking out loud.”

  “Come on, I’ll walk with you to the bottom of the hill. We can have the helicopter here soon. I suggest taking Joel with you. David may need him. You might take that photographer with you, too. He’s starting to get underfoot.”

  Ben-Judah chuckled. “They warned me about him.”

  Amber led the professor down the slope to the tiny base camp.

&nbs
p; EIGHTEEN

  Amber looked exhausted, and Chambers knew why. She had worked at the Achor site until the wee hours, returned to the hotel for a shower and a few hours of sleep, eaten a quick breakfast, then met him and other members of the team in the lobby. The hotel, one of the top choices for wealthier tourists and businessmen, had a helipad on the roof. Chambers was sure it was the reason Landau had chosen this location.

  Photographer Edward Cove and Nuri’s assistant, Simon Bartholomew, had already made the short hop to the area outside Qumran. Chambers let Ben-Judah board the craft first, then Amber and her assistant, Elizabeth Harvick, a Hebrew University grad student working her first dig.

  The helicopter pilot made a smooth rise into the cool morning air and started a circuitous path to their destination. After yesterday’s event with the tourist helicopter, Landau had decided they should take a less direct course, forcing any other aircraft following them to reveal itself.

  “I’ve heard from Nuri,” Ben-Judah said. “He said the night work went well. We should be able to start the important work soon after we arrive.”

  Chambers wanted to remind his mentor that all archaeological work was important but found the discipline to keep quiet.

  “Did he get any sleep?” Amber asked. She sounded motherly.

  “He said he slept for a few hours before dawn. I think he slept in the tunnel.”

  “He’s a dedicated man.” Amber looked at Chambers, as if daring him to disagree. Chambers turned his attention out the window. They had crossed from the realm of buildings and paved streets to wide expanses of brown, bare ground.

  “Has the crew been changed?” David didn’t bother looking away from the window.

  “Nuri sent them home this morning.” Ben-Judah drummed his fingers on his leg.

  “Eager, Professor?” Chambers grinned.

  “Yes, David. I am. Aren’t you?”

  David admitted he was.

  They set down in the same spot as yesterday. Chambers unloaded his backpack and helped Elizabeth with Amber’s photo- and video-equipment bags. This time she brought several adjustable light stands. He toted the heavier bags to a Toyota that waited outside the rotor-blast area.

  “Thanks, Dr. Chambers.” Elizabeth was short and blond and could be the poster child for perky. She spoke like a teenager. “You must work out.”

  Chambers felt his face warm and caught Amber rolling her eyes. “Some men pump iron; I pump heavy books.”

  “Dr. Rodgers didn’t say you were funny too.”

  “I’d hate to hear what Dr. Rodgers said about me. Let’s go.” He loaded the equipment in the back of the SUV and slipped into the backseat with Amber and Elizabeth. The car seemed much smaller than last time. Only Ben-Judah and the driver seemed comfortable.

  “Landau, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I’m an outdoor man at heart.” Landau directed the car across the short span of desert that separated the landing area from the dig site. “Dr. Aumann has things well in hand. The workers have been sent away, so it will just be the dig team present. That is what you wanted, Professor?”

  “Yes. The fewer eyes the better. The equipment has arrived?”

  “Yes. Everything is in place. Dr. Aumann and Simon are clearing the dirt from the stairs.”

  “And the debris at the rear of the tunnel?”

  “All removed and set aside for Dr. Rodgers. If you ask me, it all looks like a bunch of rocks.”

  “That’s because they are a bunch of rocks—important rocks,” Amber said. “That’s how you woo a female archaeologist: you bring her stones with tool marks.”

  “What, no roses?” Landau said.

  “Doesn’t hurt.”

  “Anyway, the tunnel is clear of debris. The only things that remain are some equipment bags. Cove’s stuff.”

  “Cove is the National Geographic photographer,” Amber told Elizabeth. “I mentioned him to you, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know why we’re taking photos if he’s already doing that.”

  Amber blinked several times as if she couldn’t believe the question. “Cove is recording the dig for the magazine. His job is to take photos that tell a story, that interests readers. My job—our job—is to taking scientific photos. We focus on the details. Our job isn’t to take pretty photos, but meaningful ones. Same goes for the video work.”

  Landau directed the vehicle under one of the canopies. Yesterday, a dozen workers milled around, waiting to return to work. Now the area was empty of human life.

  Chambers and Landau shouldered the bags and started up the hill. Ben-Judah moved as if the tunnel were his fountain of youth. There was a spring in his step that Chambers hadn’t seen since arriving in Israel several weeks ago. Amber had positioned herself near Ben-Judah’s side, but he was moving up easily without her help.

  The area outside the tunnel had changed. The opening had been enlarged by removing more of the stacked stones. Chambers saw them arranged neatly to the side, each numbered with chalk marks that indicated the order in which they had been removed and an arrow that showed their orientation in the wall. A small generator hummed a short distance away.

  A collapsible circular duct and an electric fan sent fresh air into the tunnel.

  Setting his load near the opening, Chambers followed Ben-Judah into the tunnel. Nuri and Simon were on their hands and knees, filling small bags with the dirt that covered the stairs over the air void revealed by the ground penetrating radar. The rest of the stairs maintained their protective dirt.

  At the sound of the others, Nuri looked up, then stood. He looked worn. He may have told Ben-Judah that he had slept, but Chambers doubted it. Weary or not, the man smiled broadly. “Welcome back. Anyone in the mood to make history?”

  “You have done a remarkable job, Nuri.” Ben-Judah sounded like a proud father.

  Chambers couldn’t decide what irritated him more: Ben-Judah’s praise of Nuri or the fact that he was right. Had Chambers not let his temper get the best of him again, he would have been here working through the night.

  He glanced around. Lights had been set on aluminum stanchions spaced about two meters apart. A thick orange cable ran from each light along the tunnel and out the opening to the gas-powered generator.

  Then he saw something that made his professional soul shrivel: a pneumatic chipper, often called a jackhammer. Next to the unit were two large compressed-air cylinders.

  Cove walked up from the lower end of the tunnel, snapping photos, his flash stabbing Chambers’s eyes. David raised a hand, and Cove stopped.

  “Sorry.”

  Chambers moved to the area where Nuri had been working. The steps were indigenous stone, carved into the base of the tunnel. They had been used frequently and for a long time. Wear marks made by countless footfalls over decades. Maybe even a century. A harder stone like granite might not have shown such wear. “May I have your brush, Nuri?” He held out his hand.

  Nuri handed over a well-used painter’s brush that had seen many digs. Much of the basic equipment had come from Ben-Judah’s department at the Institute. Most of the dirt in the target area had already been removed to expose three treads. Chambers focused on the juncture where the tread met the wall of the tunnel and where the treads overlapped. The joints were tight. So tight he assumed the stairs had been carved in place.

  “Amber, direct your video light over here. Low angle.”

  She moved to his side, lowered herself to her knees, and aimed the bright light on the area Chambers indicated. “Helpful?”

  “Yes. It looks like the stairs were carved in place out of base rock, not made elsewhere and brought in.”

  “Wouldn’t that, like, be impossible?” Elizabeth said.

  “No. It would be, like, so very possible.” He stopped and looked at the young woman. “Sorry, Elizabeth. I tend to be a little cranky during waking hours. I apologize.”

  “For what?” Elizabeth looked puzzled.

  Amber came to the resc
ue. “I’ll explain later.”

  “Okay, I’m lost,” Cove said. “If there’s a man-made void beneath the stairs, then how did the ancients bury it beneath stone steps. I mean, the steps can’t be moved, right?”

  “Right, and I have no idea how they could do that.” Chambers sat on his haunches and rubbed his chin. “First, we don’t know that the voids shown in the GPR image are man-made.”

  “I don’t agree,” Nuri said. “The voids appear to have right angles. Nature doesn’t use right angles.”

  Nuri had him there. While it was still possible they had found a pair of natural voids, Chambers wouldn’t put any money on it. “What are we left with? If the Essenes had carved out a chamber beneath the stairs, then the GPR would have seen it. Either the voids are natural, or they found some way to make it look like the stairs are a continuous construction from beginning to end. Nuri, are you sure this is the right spot? Maybe we’re too far up or too far down the staircase.”

  “Of course, I’m sure. I checked, double-checked, and even ran the GPR over it again.”

  “What about the portable T-ray?”

  “Not here yet. I was a little busy last night while you were, what, sleeping?”

  “Okay, I had that coming. Sorry. I was just hoping for a loose tread or something, but I guess that would be too easy.” Chambers moved to the area where tread met wall. There he found a tiny line that looked more like a stress fracture than a seam. He ran the brush over it several times.

  “I saw that earlier. It’s a crack from the ground shifting.”

  Chambers knew Nuri was right. He was puzzled, then an idea struck him. “Amber, pick a direction: up or down?”

  “What?”

  “Just pick one or the other: up or down?”

  “Okay, um, down.”

  “This may be a dumb idea, but it’s an idea. Joel, Simon, give me a hand here. I want to move the dirt away from the tunnel walls. Start with what Nuri has cleared and work down two, no, make it three treads.”