by Nancy Madore
“Impossible!” exclaimed Huxley. “Brisbie has informed me of every archeological find in this part of the world for over a decade! He knew I was interested in pre-Egyptian era books of Apocrypha but that hardly makes him a conspirator!”
“No, perhaps not,” agreed Butch. “But what about the others…the Arab soldiers at that outpost? By morning, they’ll all know about our little experiment.”
Everyone was staring at Butch, but Helene, meanwhile, couldn’t help noticing that Lilith was listening to every word they said, assessing the situation with interest—and something else that looked a lot like cunning. Helene had the sense that Lilith’s initial loss of composure was but a momentary lapse, perhaps caused by the shock of being wrenched from her dark resting place after so many years. But Lilith had clearly been gathering strength since then. And there was no doubt that she was measuring them every bit as carefully as they were measuring her!
“For the moment, we must act as if nothing’s happened,” Butch told them. He picked up his notes then and, without any warning, began reading from them in the Sumerian language. Within minutes Lilith dissolved before their eyes.
“She remains bound to the ring,” Butch assured them. “She will come back when summoned. I felt we should test the spells for sending her in and out of the ring.” He glanced at the blanket, which had fallen on the couch in a heap. “But before we bring her back we should talk privately.”
“How did you manage it so quickly?” Helene’s father asked.
“Like the other incantations, I simply converted the spells into decipherable sounds,” he said. “I even added pronunciation marks so there’d be no confusion about how they’re supposed to sound. Look, it’s quite easy.”
They all looked at the stream of letters, hyphened into syllables and sounds, just like those in a dictionary, to ensure perfect enunciation every time. “See? An incantation cheat sheet,” he said peering at them under his glasses with his toothy smile. But then he immediately grew serious again. “We must pretend that nothing out of the ordinary has occurred,” he said conspiratorially. “They’ll guess that something was up because of our order at the foundry but we’ll laugh it off tomorrow when we tell them about our ‘failed’ experiment. We’ll make like it was a big joke, all in fun—which isn’t entirely untrue. We’ll complain that the translation is all bungled and the scroll’s a fake. Then we’ll act as if we’re continuing our itinerary exactly as planned and even schedule a visit to the cave. Any sudden change in our plans will only alert any interested parties.”
“But that’s impossible!” insisted Huxley.
“Is it?” asked Butch. “Is it as impossible as what we just witnessed here tonight?”
“I think we should return to Tel Aviv immediately,” Helene’s father said.
“And we will,” said Butch. “But we can’t do anything to draw attention to ourselves. We’ll find a logical reason to cut our trip short, or better yet, just leave without telling anyone.” Butch looked at Helene and tried to smile. “For all we know Huxley’s right, and no one cares about this book. We mustn’t panic. It’s quite common for archeologists to become paranoid over a find, particularly one as significant as this.”
“He’s right,” agreed Huxley. “And let’s not forget that the Bedouin has been trying—quite unsuccessfully I might add—to sell these scrolls for months.”
“Yes but that could be because it was only one piece of the puzzle.” Butch reminded him. “I’m merely suggesting that we take precautions until we’ve decided how we’re going to handle this.”
They were all in agreement about that.
“In the meantime, we should learn everything we can about these souls and what they want,” said Butch. “That will help us decide the right thing to do. Are we agreed?”
They were. Butch took a deep, shaky breath. Helene thought how old he looked as he raised the notebook and once again began to read. The incantation to call Lilith out of the ring was only slightly longer than the one that sent her back. It was perhaps three or four stanzas long, and repeated the now familiar ki-sikil lil-la-ke several times in a row.
Like magic, Lilith appeared. It was only slightly less shocking this time. Even Lilith seemed surprised.
“Did you go back to the dark place just then?” Butch asked her.
“No,” Lilith replied. “I don’t know where I went. It’s as if I was still here, actually, but like I was trapped behind a barrier of some kind. I couldn’t see or hear anything, yet I could feel your presence.”
“Was it as bad as the dark place?” Helene asked.
Lilith looked at Helene—and it struck Helene how much more interested Lilith seemed in her than in the others. “Nothing could be as bad as the dark place,” she said passionately.
“Lilith,” interjected Butch—“Your existence—although very exciting—presents us with a conundrum. You must tell us everything about you and where you come from if we are to help you.”
Lilith arranged the blanket around her body, like before, and then sat back down on the couch. She arranged her hair to shield the lower half of her face from their view, peeking out at them from behind the thick curtain of hair. Her large eyes moved over each of them in turn, lingering, as always, on Helene. And then she began to speak.
Chapter 12
Present Day
“You thought I was Lilith,” Nadia concluded. When they didn’t reply she went on thoughtfully. “That ritual—or whatever you did to me—was a lot like the one they did to conjure her.”
“Actually it was different,” said Gordon. “Calling a djinn out of a human body is a little trickier than calling one out of the dark place.” He noticed that Will was glaring at him and added—“But yeah, it was similar.”
“Who are you people?” Nadia asked.
“Look Nadia,” said Clive. “Whether you choose to believe in them or not, these djinn are out there. They want to live. They need our bodies to do that. Remember Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Well, multiply that by…,” he paused here to pretend to count on his fingers and then concluded—“Actually, Invasion of the Body Snatchers pretty much describes it.”
“But why would they plan some big attack then?” she asked. “They need living bodies, don’t they?”
“We don’t have time to educate you on the politics of the djinn,” said Will. “All you need to know for the moment is that terrorist cells have been put on alert—which means there’s an impending attack. We’re here, with you, because this isn’t an ordinary terrorist attack. This one has links to the djinn…and you.”
“What links?” Nadia asked. When no one answered she turned to Gordon. “What links?” she demanded again.
Gordon sighed. “Well, you already figured out that our main link to you is Lilith,” he said, throwing a nervous glance at Will. “There’s also a link to BEACON.”
“What!” cried Nadia, incredulous. “No! No way. How is BEACON connected to this attack?”
“Gordon,” interjected Will in a warning tone.
“Yeah, Gordon, why don’t you just lay the whole thing out for her, so she’ll know exactly what not to tell us,” said Clive. “Man, what are you thinking?”
Gordon’s face turned ashen. “How do you know we won’t get answers quicker by telling her what we need to know?” he suggested defensively.
“Gee whiz,” said Clive, his face beaming with mock optimism. “Maybe Gordon’s right! Maybe we should send out a memo to the Department of Defense: ‘Hey guys, we think you might be confusing your suspects with all those questions. Try telling them what you know and maybe you’ll get your answers quicker.’ Thanks Gordon!”
Nadia didn’t know what to think. Was she actually a suspect in a real live investigation? “What… kind of attack is it?” She asked rather breathlessly. Their silence was as solid as a brick wall. “Please! I have to know!”
Will’s eyes, as usual, were examining her face. She stared back at him defiantly, determined not to tell h
im another thing until he told her what she wanted to know.
“We don’t know.” It was Gordon’s voice that finally broke the silence.
Nadia gaped at him. “You…don’t know?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve kidnapped me and are holding me against my will—no Miranda rights or anything else, mind you—and you don’t even know what kind of attack you’re…”—Nadia threw up her fingers to add quotation signs here—“… ‘investigating’…You’re all mad!”
“Terrorist attacks are investigated differently than other types of crimes,” Will said defensively.
“We don’t have to explain ourselves to her,” grumbled Clive.
Will ignored him. “The method of attack is often the last thing we find out—that’s what makes these attacks so hard to stop. We know something’s going down, and we know who’s involved. We just don’t know what they’re going to do. Even when we intercept one or more of their cells, we’re only getting one small part of an intricate plan that might be made up of an entire network of cells. Most cells aren’t told any more than their individual orders. It’s their combined efforts—each cell acting on blind obedience—that makes them so hard to stop.”
“So how do these cells know what to do?” Nadia asked.
“They get a message,” said Will. “Could be email. Could be regular mail. Could be telephone. The message is almost always encrypted, meaning it contains a series of code words that communicate their instructions.”
“The internet has made it really easy for people to communicate no matter where they are in the world,” said Gordon.
“So how do you find these messages?” asked Nadia. “It must be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“It can be,” said Gordon. “These messages are extremely hard to identify unless you already know the code or you have something specific you’re looking for. There is an entire division at the DOD that does nothing but track these encrypted messages. In the case of email, the message would look a lot like spam. It might come in the form of an advertisement or it might just contain a jumble of words that make no sense. The dead giveaway is that the email has no real connection to any legitimate business.”
“I get emails like that all the time!” exclaimed Nadia, and then instantly wished she hadn’t said it.
“They send them to everyone,” Gordon assured her. “That’s what makes it so hard to find the target cells. Even if we do identify an email with an encrypted message, we still have to figure out which recipient is the cell.”
“And what kind of attack the instructions on that message might be supporting,” said Will.
She had to admit this made sense. “But you still haven’t told me how BEACON is connected,” she said.
“We’ve told you all we can,” said Will.
“Maybe I’ve told you all I can too, then,” said Nadia. She and Will just glared at each other for a few minutes.
“Might be time to call in the goons,” said Clive. Nadia turned her scowl on him. “And tell them to hurry up!” he cried. “She’s givin’ me the evil eye!”
Nadia relented a little, but she still refused to speak to them for several minutes. Finally, when her curiosity got the better of her, she said—“They didn’t wear masks when they conjured Lilith. Why did you wear them with me?”
“Djinn that have been around for thousands of years are much more advanced than one who’s been in the dark place,” explained Gordon. He seemed pleased to have her talking again. “For reasons we don’t fully understand, the combination of metals in the ring and the shavings weakens the djinn. The mask provides extra protection. It helps block stronger, more experienced djinn from getting in.”
“We realize how confusing this must be for you,” said Will in an unexpected show of compassion. “It may seem like a lot to ask, but for the time being you’re just going to have to trust us.”
“Do I have a choice?” she asked.
“You want a choice?” Clive asked pleasantly. “I have a choice for you. If you want to return to Xanadu and live happily ever after, you need to help us stop this attack.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” She asked, exasperated.
“Just keep telling us what you know,” said Gordon.
“Don’t leave any detail out,” added Will.
“And bring us the broom of the wicked witch of the west,” added Clive.
Nadia tried to separate her thoughts from her emotions. She was becoming more and more frustrated because it was getting harder to tell what was real. She needed more information. “If you would just tell me what you’re…,”
“We’ll know it when we see it,” said Will.
“It’s just that there’s so much...” she complained.
“You’re doing great,” said Gordon. “Just keep telling us everything.”
“You were just getting to Lilith…,” prompted Will.
Chapter 13
Ancient Mesopotamia
A small village outside Uruk
Approximately 5,000 years ago
Lilith donned the heavy man’s skirt, delighting in the downy softness of the woolen pelt against her thighs. Next, she wrapped her upper body in a simple, white linen shawl, leaving her right shoulder bare as was the custom. But instead of allowing the shawl to flow loosely to her ankles like the other women in her village, Lilith tucked the shortened garment into her skirt, leaving her legs exposed like the men in her village. She would complete the look with a cloak and a copper helmet, but first she would add a few little embellishments.
Placing bracelets of gold and alabaster all along the length of her arms, she strategically arranged them for the most flattering effect. She paused periodically to admire the result, noting how the bracelets accentuated the flawless curves of her well-formed arms and gave them an imperial quality. Her pleasure faded slightly at the thought of the looks she would get from the people of her village, but she reminded herself that she didn’t care. Yet the irritation was there. What manner of creature denounced something as natural as enhancing one’s appearance as vanity? She shook her head in disgust. But that was the way of the sons of men in all things. They mutilated the simplest pleasures with their irrational fears and misguided sentiments. They acted as if joy was in short supply, to be measured out in small doses. And all the while they kept insisting that it was the will of God! As if they knew anything about God. If it wasn’t for her father and the other angels, the sons of men would still be eating insects and bludgeoning each other to death with rocks and sticks!
Lilith glanced across the room at her sleek new dagger. It was considerably longer than the ones the men used, although it was shorter than a sword. She had designed it herself, adjusting the size and shape until it felt just right in her hand. She kept its lean, jagged blade exceedingly sharp.
Once her arms were satisfactorily adorned, Lilith began carefully applying a subtle outline around her eyes to enhance their rich, tourmaline-brown color and make them appear even more outstanding. Her eyes were already rather large compared to her other features, which were petite and exquisitely feminine. Her brownish black hair was long and smooth, except for the thick bangs that lightly grazed her dark eyelashes. This combination of features produced a sweet, almost vulnerable, beauty that was sometimes confusing for the people around her. Those who knew her best would swear that there was nothing sweet or vulnerable about her.
A small, satisfied smile curved her lips as she examined her handiwork. Meanwhile, she continued to silently rail against the people of her village. It wasn’t just the makeup and jewelry. All the angels’ many improvements were under constant scrutiny; even those that were necessary for their survival! The lack of appreciation was what irritated her most. The angels had generously shared their superior knowledge with the sons of men. They taught them how to communicate. They introduced the concept of writing and record keeping. They devised ways for manipulating the earth’s resources, such as water, through irrigation and other develo
pments. They were skillful craftsmen, able to design tools to protect, enhance, simplify and even amuse. Why, some of them could even look into the heavens and foretell things that were yet to be! And all of this they were willing to share with the sons of men.
But the sons of men were mulishly reluctant to accept these gifts from the angels, preferring to hold out for a miracle from God Himself. And ultimately, no matter what the gift or from where it came, the sons of men seemed to enjoy it more if it could be used to control others.
But they would never control her!
Lilith picked up her brush and gently tugged the stiff bristles through her thick, shining hair. Despite her frustration with the people of her village, she was excited about her prospects. She was increasingly aware of her power as a woman, particularly as a Nephilim woman. She was destined for great things. As she reached for her helmet there came a timid knock upon the door. Lilith turned, mildly annoyed by the disruption.
“Yes?”
The door opened and a small woman with Lilith’s large, almond shaped eyes stepped into the room. She was a beautiful woman, richly dressed in linen robes that were elaborately decorated with colorful embroidery and fringe around the edges. But to Lilith, the woman seemed ordinary and dull. The woman, on the other hand, gasped in astonishment when she saw Lilith.
“What do you think?” Lilith asked, twirling around with a wicked grin on her girlish face. Lilith was small for a first-generation Nephilim, but even so she towered nearly three heads over her mother.
Lilith’s mother was momentarily speechless while she took in the details of Lilith’s attire with a mixture of shock and dismay. They both knew that Lilith would do as Lilith pleased. And yet the poor woman couldn’t help shaking her head as her eyes moved over daughter, starting with the long, bare legs and continuing upward until they reached the masculine helmet that sat like a crown on her daughter’s pretty head. “What can you be thinking?” she wondered out loud.