The Way of Sorrows

by Jon Steele

  “I am the lord thy god, thou shalt have no gods before me.”

  THIRTEEN

  PEACE ACTIVISTS ARRESTED AT QUMRAN

  Israel Interior Ministry confirms discovered scrolls are in ancient Hebrew

  PA claims Israel using find to remove Palestinians from their land

  Special to 24 Heures by Julian Magnolly in Jerusalem

  In dramatic scenes broadcast worldwide, Israeli security forces have secured Qumran National Park near the Dead Sea after nineteen activists from the Tel Aviv–based group Peace and Justice rappelled into caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were first discovered in 1948. The activists occupied the caves throughout the day, displaying banners calling for the Israeli government to hand over newly found scrolls to the Palestinian Authority. The activists used their own camera equipment and satellite phones to conduct interviews with the world’s news media during their occupation of the historical site.

  IDF spokesman Natan Liberman told reporters covering the standoff that all the activists had been arrested and would be charged with criminal trespass.

  “It’s a disgrace that Jews invaded a Jewish historical site demanding that Jews return artifacts of Jewish heritage to Palestinians. They want peace and justice, good, but let’s not be stupid about it.”

  Liberman added there was damage to the interior of the occupied caves and the activists would face further charges once archaeologists from Hebrew University made an assessment.

  The scrolls were first discovered two days ago after American tourists stumbled across the entrance to a previously undiscovered cavern. Adam Schwartz and Nicole Davies from Los Angeles, California, were rock climbing in a mountainous area one and a half kilometers southwest of the archaeological site of Qumran, where the Essenes maintained a settlement until the first century AD.

  “We reached the summit and stopped to rest,” Schwartz, 27, told 24 Heures. “We had a view of the Dead Sea and the Jordan Valley, and we could see the Qumran settlement. Then the ground under us began to sink. We jumped away in the nick of time just before a deep fissure opened up. It’s a miracle we weren’t killed.”

  The Americans had crossed a thin shelf of sandstone, covered by centuries of dust that gave way. Davies, 23, used a flashlight to see down into the fissure. There appeared to be an opening in a side wall at the bottom.

  “It looked interesting, and we love exploring caves,” she said.

  Schwartz used climbing rope and carabiners to lower his GoPro camera, mounted with a small LED light, down the fissure to film through the opening to see if it would be safe to enter. When he pulled up the rope and reviewed the camera footage, he was stunned.

  “It was surreal,” Schwartz said. “There was a skeleton on the ground. I thought it was a grave.”

  The two Americans hurried to the tourist center at Qumran National Park to notify officials. Rangers from the Israel Nature and Parks Authority soon arrived to investigate the scene. Within hours, media outlets descended on the park to report the discovery.

  INPA ranger Ofir Segal said in an interview broadcast on Channel 2, “At first, we thought it was a hoax. It wasn’t until we got into the cavern that we realized a major archaeological find had been uncovered. Yes, there was a skeleton down there, but it wasn’t a grave, it’s where someone had lived. Jars with scrolls, writing tools, a table and stool, pottery and wood spoons in near perfect condition. It is an astounding discovery.”

  Asked if there could be a connection between the man in the cave and the Essenes, Segal said, “Whether the skeleton belonged to an Essene who wrote the newly discovered scrolls, or was only guarding them, or whether he was a wanderer who came along much later and made the cave his home, remains to be seen.”

  In the same interview, Irit Halevi from the Israel Geological Society explained the Jordan Valley and Dead Sea region’s geological significance.

  “The Jordan Valley and Dead Sea region has always been a geologically active area. We have evidence of major earthquakes during the early centuries of the current epoch, and one can only assume there were just as many that were undocumented. Any one of these seismic events could have easily shifted the ground in a way as to bury the cavern. It’s practically beyond belief that this discovery was made. It’s like hitting the lottery.”

  Not everyone was as pleased. On hearing the news of the archaeological find, the Palestinian Authority claimed ownership as the discovery was made outside the boundaries of Qumran National Park, on Palestinian land illegally occupied by Israel. The Palestinian Authority insisted the cavern and all its contents were the property of the Palestinian people. Demonstrations broke out the same day in Jericho and Ramallah, calling for Israel to surrender control of the site. The next day, Friday, Palestinian youths took to the streets of East Jerusalem following Muslim midday prayers and made the same demand. The situation escalated when Palestinians atop Temple Mount threw stones down onto Jews praying at the Wailing Wall. Israeli police and Israeli Defense Forces entered the Temple Mount compound, called Haram al-Sharif by Muslims, and clashed with hundreds of Palestinians. There were forty-nine injuries, including fifteen Israelis, but order was quickly restored.

  Israeli government spokesman Amit Zohar said of the clashes, “It doesn’t take much to start a riot in Jerusalem, but this time the Palestinians are barking up the wrong olive tree. If anything, the discovery of these scrolls proves the lands of Judea are not ‘illegally occupied.’ They are Jewish lands occupied by Jews long before the Palestinians got here. The motivation of the Palestinian Authority in encouraging these riots is to suppress the truth.”

  PA Chief Negotiator Walid Hadawi, based in Jericho less than six kilometers from the Qumran discovery, responded angrily in an interview broadcast on Al Arabiya, the most-watched Arab-language channel in the world.

  “This is typical of Israel. They dig up a clay cup or a pot and say, ‘See, this proves this is our land. This proves you do not belong here! Get out of Israel!’ If that’s the case, then every American in the United States should get back on the Mayflower and go back to Europe and return the land to the indigenous people the Americans stole it from. And the Israelis should give the land back to the Canaanites whom the Israelis stole it from. If the Israelis want truth, this is truth: UN Resolution 446, not to mention ninety-four more UN resolutions passed since 1955 condemning Israel’s aggressive policies against Palestinians and our Arab neighbors.”

  It was at this point that the nineteen activists from Peace and Justice became involved by occupying the caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found in 1948.

  The leader of Peace and Justice, Sarah Ornstein, 47, has long been a thorn in the side of Israeli officials for her headline-grabbing actions. Most recently Ornstein led a demonstration at the Wailing Wall in 2012. Ornstein and six other women dressed as Hasidic men and began to chant, ‘Your religion is a crime against women!’ The female demonstrators were attacked by Hasidic worshippers and badly beaten in front of news cameras.

  Yesterday, in an interview conducted with the BBC during her occupation of Qumran just before IDF moved in, Ornstein said, “If Israel is to survive, we must stop using our religion as a weapon of oppression. Whether against women, Palestinians, or anyone Booboostein doesn’t like. If we are the chosen people, then we must choose to be better than this.”

  Ornstein often refers to Israeli Prime Minister Yossi Borstein by the moniker “Booboostein.” On his way to yesterday’s morning cabinet meeting and asked to respond to Ornstein’s latest taunt, the prime minister laughed it off with “There she goes again.”

  Lost in the political melee is the fate of the scrolls, as a veil of secrecy has been drawn over them. It’s assumed the newly found scrolls will be transferred to the Israel Museum in Jerusalem to be studied. When contacted by 24 Heures, the public affairs office of the museum said all questions regarding the scrolls should be referred to the Interior Ministry.

  Pressed by Israeli media during a news conference discussing the secur
ity situation in Jerusalem, Interior Ministry spokesman David Cohen was brief in his comments regarding the scrolls.

  “The only thing I can tell you is the only thing I have been told: The scrolls are written in first-century Hebrew, and they are genuine. That fact alone should end any discussion, or illusions, as to the ownership of the scrolls.”

  Reliable sources within the Interior Ministry have confirmed to 24 Heures that the skeleton found in the cavern is being studied at the site by forensic experts from Hadassah Medical Center. DNA tests are being conducted to determine the ethnicity of the bones. If found to be Jewish, within scientific probabilities, the bones will be buried before the next sundown according to Jewish law.

  The Interior Ministry source also told this reporter that the park’s closure will continue and that the hills surrounding Wadi Qumran will remain off-limits to everyone but authorized IDF personnel for the foreseeable future. Asked if the ban included members of the Nature and Parks Authority, the source responded, “It means everyone.”

  Harper set the newspaper on the leather settee. He watched Krinkle continue with his breaking-and-entering rampage, on a computer this time.

  “And this means what?” Harper said.

  “What?”

  “The article.”

  “Read the fine print under the headlines,” the roadie said.

  Harper gave it a glance.

  Special to 24 Heures by Julian Magnolly in Jerusalem

  “And that means what? And while you’re at it, what are we doing here?”

  Here was a posh office perched on a balcony and fitted with glass walls overlooking an aircraft hangar. Two silver Learjet 70s were parked on the hangar floor. They gleamed in the 300,000 lumens of eye-popping brightness cast by a high bay lighting rig. The jets were undergoing maintenance, but at 02:30 hours the hangar was empty. There was a huge banner hanging from the ceiling and stretching the length of the hangar. WELCOME TO ALASKA AND ARCTIC X AIR SERVICES: SERVING PREFERRED CLIENTS AROUND THE WORLD, it read in English, Russian, Chinese, and Japanese. The banner gave the hangar a friendly, happy-to-be-so-damn-rich feel. The fact they had arrived here in the dead of a bitterly cold night and let themselves in (Krinkle picking the locks, dismantling the security system, and turning on the lights with three claps of his hands) raised questions in Harper’s head. Not to mention following the roadie through the hangar and up the stairs, where instead of picking the lock to the office, he kicked open the door and marched straight to the Dell workstation on the only desk in the room. He tapped the keyboard, and the screen awakened and asked for a password. Krinkle picked up the keyboard, flipped it over. There was a piece of paper Scotch-taped to the underside.

  “Aha.”

  “Aha what?” Harper said.

  “The password to the arrivals and departures files is ‘drowssap.’ You know how many computers in the world have a backward ‘password’ as a password?”

  “A few?”

  The roadie laid down the keyboard. “Three hundred million, nine hundred forty-six thousand, eight hundred twenty-nine, the last time I checked.”

  “So whoever owns this computer isn’t the brightest bulb in the ceiling.”

  Krinkle pulled out his cell phone and opened an application. He held the phone next to the screen. Harper leaned over the desk and saw the X-rayed innards of the screen displayed on the roadie’s cell phone. There appeared to be some extra padding and wiring along the edges. Krinkle nodded respectfully.

  “Composition C-4. Nope, they’re really smart here. I enter drowssap, the screen goes bang in my face.”

  “Big bang or little bang?”

  “Big enough to fuck up the rest of the night.” He unbuttoned his navy peacoat, pulled a folded newspaper from the back pocket of his overalls, and handed it to Harper.

  “I got stuff to do and Inspector Gobet left orders for you to read the article on the front page. Go sit over there.”

  Over there was the leather settee at the other end of the office. A nearby window offered a view of Arctic X Air Services’ apron, connecting taxiways and the distant runway lights of Anchorage International Airport.

  “Right.”

  Harper walked to the settee, opened his mackintosh, and sat as instructed. He scanned the front page: “Intense Street Fighting in Riyadh; Saudi King Declares State of Emergency.” “New Ebola Strain Grips Malaysia; Thousands Die Each Day.” “Russian Ruble Collapses as Kremlin Financial Scandal Deepens.” There were pictures with the stories: Islamic fighters in black kaffiyeh running through a bombed-out street; a truckload of dead bodies being dumped into a mass grave outside Kuala Lumpur; Russians storming a Moscow bank.

  “Which one?” Harper said.

  “Huh?”

  “Which article am I supposed to read?”

  Krinkle was banging at the keys like someone who forgot he said the computer was wired to go boom if annoyed.

  “Below the fold,” the roadie said, not taking his eyes off the screen. “The one about the peace activists arrested at Qumran.”

  Harper flipped the paper, saw the headline about the busted peaceniks. He wasn’t through the first paragraph when he caught a foul scent coming from his coat. And touching his hair, he felt traces of the oily slop that rained down inside the time warp. No wonder the roadie told him to “go sit over there.” Truth be told, Harper felt a bit on the foul side. The trip in and out of the time warp was like riding a cosmic merry-go-round. He couldn’t shake the sensation he was still going in circles. He looked at his hands; they were trembling. He heard the dead soldier in his head: No worries, it’ll pass.

  “Sure it will,” Harper mumbled to himself. He closed his eyes, replayed the last few hours—more like those minutes of the last few hours in which he was compos mentis.

  As they’d come up from the bunker and into the yard with the perfectly set graves, the ash-choked wind howled and jagged bolts of lightning shot from the clouds and stabbed the ground. With each strike there was a deafening CRACK and the world did quake. Crunch time had arrived. Krinkle’s magic bus was humming and waiting at the end of the driveway, half punched through the warp’s perimeter. Krinkle climbed on and jumped into the driver’s seat. Harper followed and the door slammed shut behind him. High-pressure seals hissed and it was quiet in the bus. Katherine Taylor was already onboard. He saw her through the open door to the rear compartment. She was half sitting on a bed, propped up by two Swiss Guards. One more was taking her blood pressure, and another was scanning her eyes with a penlight.

  “Hang on to something, brother.”

  Harper grabbed the railing along the steps; Krinkle put the bus into reverse and punched the accelerator. For a moment nothing happened; then came that droning bell hum from under the bus floor. Then the world beyond the windows stretched and snapped and they were surrounded by brilliant streaks of colored light from one end of the electromagnetic spectrum to the other. Then the bus was sitting at mile marker 128 of Carson City Road as night claimed the day. One side of the road was an evergreen forest, the other side a black hole in the ground the size of a football stadium.

  “That’s what’s left of the time warp?”

  “No, that’s what’s left of a fireball event.”

  “Sorry?”

  “A comet fragment that falls to earth. No big deal. Happens all the time. At least that’s what the SX guys in Bern are putting on the Internet as we speak. Inspector Gobet has the local police securing the area. This is a no-go zone till we leave.”

  “When do we leave?”

  “Soon as I get clearance to roll. In the meantime we sit.”

  Krinkle shut down the motor and killed the lights. Harper looked beyond the windshield. He considered the fact that one big, black bus was sitting in the middle of the road with its lights off. And it was dark outside.

  “How long was I inside?”

  The roadie shrugged. “Well, it was daylight when you went in and it’s dark now. So let’s call it a lot longer than you should
’ve been. That order to hold on and standby was because one of Gobet’s computer geeks at HQ added two plus two again. He came up with how really fucked up time was inside the warp. You were to wait for the tactical squad to get lined up along a new set of exfil points.”

  “But I was already inside.”

  “Meaning you were going to end up nowhere where we thought you’d be. You were way lost in the shifting sands of time, brother. That’s why we went in.”

  “Hoping I’d blow by.”

  “Amen.”

  Harper looked back at Katherine. Her eyes were open, but she was oblivious to her surroundings. So much so that she didn’t object when one Swiss Guard lifted the cat from her arms. The other guards eased Katherine onto a gurney and laid her down. They covered her with a blanket and strapped her down.

  “Her forty-eight hours became forty bloody days in there. She went mad with grief. She was burying rotting corpses like some hideous penance for not killing her son before they snatched him.

  “And if you hadn’t found her before the warp collapsed, she’d still be doing it. I mean it would’ve been lights-out for you, but for her it would be never-ending.”

  Harper looked at Krinkle. “Sorry?”

  “The enemy juiced her with a new agony potion. It has severe psychotropic effects, the wildest being a local’s mind doesn’t die with the body.” The roadie nodded to the would-be meteor strike beyond the windshield. “She’d still be somewhere in that friggin’ hole, trapped in a singularity. Her forty days would have become four hundred years, then four thousand. She never would have finished burying the dead. There would be no end to her grief.”

  Harper thought about it. “You’re telling me the enemy injected Hell into her mind?”

  Krinkle shrugged. “You surprised? Till now the bad guys injected the locals with the idea of Hell through religion and superstition. Now, with this new shit, they can juice the locals with thirty cc’s of the real deal.”