“Other than the few monks who remained at the monastery,” SattAr said, “the island has been utterly deserted until this morning when a boat occupied by five Westerners sailed into port.”
He reached into his baggy pocket and took out a quarter-sized, clear circular disk. As he held it in his hand, the circular disc projected a clear holographic image.
The picture was indisputable. Alex Pella and his cronies were on Patmos. Their subterfuge had been discovered.
“Did you call off our pursuit on their Stratoskimmer?” Ari asked.
“No. I don’t want them to get the impression that we were onto their ruse. The only way to capture Alex and the rest of them will be by surprise. He has proven his ingenuity before, and I cannot risk losing any upper hand that I have now. Plus, I have made arrangements with my operative on the island to help with my plans.”
“Capture Alex Pella alive,” Ari commented. “I don’t care what you do with the rest of them. Kill them, torture them, or even let them go after a thorough interrogation. They are of no concern to me at this point.”
Masika slapped his hand, like a mother disciplining a child. Her lips pursed and eyes glowered with rage. “They are all enemies of the UAA. Do not be a fool, Ari. They must all die!”
Her abrupt outburst took both Ari and SattAr off-guard. No one touched the Malik in such a way without meeting immediate execution. It was a crime beyond sacrilege.
They all remained silent. Though the slap was not intended to cause pain, the impact had severely bruised his ego. No one told the Malik his business, let alone his wife or any other woman. Even the most powerful people in the country barely raised their voice to him. There were certain rules, and Masika’s display of dissent broke them all.
Almost too embarrassed to speak, Ari finally mustered up enough pride to say, “What do you think you are doing?”
“No! What do you think you are doing?” she reiterated, finally not afraid to openly show her true role within the marriage. “We cannot show them any mercy!” Spit spewed from her mouth. “They are all enemies to the state and have no place in the UAA’s future!”
SattAr swore loyalty first to his country and second to the Malik. Ari’s wife did not fit into the pecking order nor did he want her to. He waited to see how Ari would handle the situation.
“We will talk of this later,” Ari said, trying to save a little face.
He could not meet his wife’s gaze. Too intimidated to defend himself any further, he failed to raise his voice.
“So what are your orders, Malik?” SattAr said in an attempt to make him directly confront the situation.
A strong leader would not yield to mere threats. He may bend to reason but never falter in the face of confrontation. SattAr had always suspected Ari to be a weak leader who led only through his charisma and not from any inner strength or wisdom. He would not leave until he saw whether his suspicion about the man was accurate.
“You heard your orders,” Ari finally said. “I want Alex brought back alive and if his cronies give you any trouble, kill them.
“Yes, Malik!” SattAr responded as if nothing unusual had just transpired.
SattAr knew the success of the UAA did not rely on being the first to find the cure for The Disease. It was the people living in their country who made it a success, not the Malik or any of his grandiose projects. Ari had forgotten that he was serving the people and they were not serving him. Many kings and dictators had lost their heads over this same mistake.
Upon exiting, SattAr left behind any respect or confidence he ever had for the man. He would not forget what he had seen today, nor would he place any further trust in this façade of a man.
Chapter 33
The climb up the small, winding road to the Monastery of St. John was more arduous than expected. Because of the circuitous route, it took longer than anticipated.
Between William’s moaning and Guri’s long-winded explanation of his sinus problems, the trek became almost insufferable. Even Jonathan began to falter near the end of it. After initially leading them up the hill, he had slowed down his pace. Whether it was from exhaustion or pure insanity after hearing about Guri’s ethmoid sinusitis ad nauseam, he began to stagger a few steps behind the group.
The monastery’s walls were taller and more impressive than they appeared at the bottom of the island. It would have taken a concerted effort by an ancient enemy to attempt scaling them. No wonder this medieval fortress still remained intact after over a millennium of weathering.
Fortunately, the main gate to the monastery had been left open, negating the need to find some means of forcing their way into the building.
“You see that?” Marissa asked before they walked through the towering gate.
A small, black funnel of smoke bellowed out from the monastery. Because of the wind, it was almost imperceptible as it dissipated soon after hitting the atmosphere.
“Good eye,” Alex said. “Maybe there’s still a monk inside who stayed behind to guard the place from any possible intruders.”
“You mean we’re not alone?” William quickly asked.
“I do see on the satellite’s infrared scan what looks like a single person inside the monastery.”
“Or maybe it’s someone from the UAA sending smoke signals to the rest of them on the island to attack us,” William randomly expressed. “Or maybe it’s a madman burning all incriminating evidence from a heinous crime he just committed.”
“Or maybe it’s just cold up here,” Jonathan said. “The temperature must have dropped at least forty degrees since we reached the top of this mountain.”
They all looked at each other, confusion filling their faces. The temperature remained a sweltering 85 degrees Fahrenheit. The hill they traversed was tall but not massive enough to cause any significant temperature change.
“Are you feeling alright, Jonathan?” Marissa asked.
“As I said before, there is no need to worry about me. Your medical treatment has brought me back to my former self and this chill will not dispel any of your good work.”
She eyed him from head to toe, visually examining every part of his body down to his fingernails. Marissa slowly walked over to him while continuing her inspection.
“Is that a rash?” she muttered aloud. “You seem all red. Do you itch?”
“I feel no itch, scratch, burn, or other ailment,” Jonathan said, still smiling. “It’s probably the sun. I probably got a little too much exposure at Megiddo.”
Marissa touched the side of his face with her finger. The rash did not feel warm or raised and failed to blotch upon impression. Instead of further inspection, she immediately embraced him.
“We’ll find the cure,” she finally said, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her. “We will. We’ll find the cure.”
Marissa did not have to announce her diagnosis. They were all intelligent and knew what she wanted to say. Jonathan had The Disease.
Again Jonathan’s words echoed through William’s head. It all ends on Patmos. Though distraught over his colleague’s fate, he could not help but contemplate: Who will be next?
“Do not cry for me,” Jonathan said. “I am not dead yet, so mourning now will just be a waste of tears.”
“Did you know?” she asked.
He held her by the shoulders in a kind and gentle manner. “The Disease takes no favorites. Just like death, it is the great equalizer. Though I naively believed it would spare me, I see now my fate has been determined.”
“Should we get him back down to the medical clinic?” William asked.
Marissa shook her head no. There was nothing left at the bottom of the hill that could treat The Disease in this final stage of the illness. Though she wanted to help, she could do nothing now but pray.
Jonathan attempted to allay their fears by turning from them and walking through the hulking medieval gates as if there was nothing wrong. Though plagued by aching muscles and quickly dwindling energy, he would not
allow himself to reveal to the others how badly he truly felt.
The inner courtyard of the monastery sharply contrasted with its outer, uninviting walls. It was as if they had exited a dungeon and entered the Garden of Eden.
Beautiful white stone walls adorned all the buildings in the monastery. Boasting an exquisite array of chapels, overhanging arcades, interconnecting courtyards, and Byzantine-era frescos, it paralleled John’s cave in both magnificence and holiness.
“Now where’s that guy you saw?” William asked, frantically searching the inner courtyard for any signs of movement. Like a spy, he crouched alongside the walls and darted his head out to look around the corner each time he came to a building’s edge.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Alex finally asked as he looked on with amusement. The comical diversion was just what they needed.
William put his finger up to his lips. “Shh! They’ll be able to hear us.”
Alex gestured to the building next to them. “Whoever the person is, I can see his infrared signal in the building right in front of us.
“It’s most likely one of the monastery’s monks,” Jonathan said. “I think we should introduce ourselves before we go dillydallying around this place searching for a clue John might have left us.”
“I agree,” Alex said while walking alongside Jonathan to the building.
Guri and Marissa followed without the least bit of trepidation. Only William stayed outside in the courtyard, waiting for the worst to befall them.
“I’ll guard the door out here,” he stated as the others entered the building, “and make sure no one sneaks up on you.”
Large arched walkways, marbled floors, and glass-encased parchments met them upon entering. Beautiful religious paintings and frescos decorated the walls while shelves of books and reading tables had been assembled throughout the room.
“The famous library of St. John’s Monastery,” Jonathan uttered while soaking in the history. “It is said to house ancient documents signed by Byzantine emperors, an original copy of the book of Job, and seventh-century manuscripts from St. Gregory the Theologues’ sermons.”
“You are correct,” echoed a voice from one of the halls. “This library also boasts more than 900 ancient manuscripts, many written on parchment, 2,000 books and 13,000 copies of different documents.”
A thin man with a prematurely graying beard down to his chest welcomed them with open arms. He appeared to be one of the monastery’s monks as he wore a purple robe known as a cassock, a wooden cross hanging from his neck, and small, rounded glasses at the bridge of his nose.
Though the man appeared innocent and friendly, Alex shared at least some of William’s paranoia and would not yet fully embrace him as a friend. He stood back and inspected him for any type of flaw while the others shook his hand.
“My name is Father Kritikos,” he said, “and I am the sole curator here at the monastery. The others either left or perished at the hands of The Disease. God rest their souls.”
Alex listened intently to the man. His accent sounded Greek, but a hint of something else resonated in it. Maybe it was a dialect of the island, or maybe Greek was not the man’s first language.
“What brings you all to Patmos?” the priest asked. “I have not seen a single person here since the evacuation.”
Alex spoke up before anyone had a chance to answer. “We’re on a field expedition to retrace the footsteps of John, the writer of the Book of Revelation.”
“Odd time for such a project,” the priest said inquisitively.
Alex knew that whatever he may answer, it would sound suspicious. No one would be on any scholarly trips to this part of the word, at least not without wearing a level five decontamination suit.
Instead of any further circuitous answers, Alex decided to respond to him in a straightforward manner. He didn’t know how much time Jonathan had left and didn’t want to waste any of it trying to fool this priest.
“We believe it may provide us the answers we need to find a cure for The Disease,” he went on to say.
“How may I help?” Father Kritikos asked without hesitation.
“What is the oldest section of this monastery?” Jonathan inquired.
“There are actually two,” the priest said. “The first one you passed in the courtyard before entering the library.” Then he added with a smile, “Follow me.”
The man took a long metal cane from behind his back and hobbled past them to the door. Alex watched him walk and tried to determine the reason for such an odd gait. It didn’t look like there was any pain in his back or hips nor were there any signs of muscular problems. He could not put his finger on it but knew something seemed slightly awry.
William, while still hugging the side of the library with his back, watched Father Kritikos enter the courtyard. He dared not say a word, hoping the man in robes had not seen him upon exiting.
“You see these pillars?” the father said. “They are the remnants of the original pagan temple of Artemis which used to stand on this spot before any Christian building was erected.”
Three weathered, brownish-white pillars stood side by side in the center of the courtyard. A rectangular-stone block, most likely the vestige of an ancient roof support, lay atop them. Two bells, much like America’s Liberty Bell, hung between the three pillars.
Marissa tried to imagine what this grand temple must have looked like in its prime. Beautiful stone carvings, multiple statues dedicated to Artemis, and a triangular pediment adorning its roof must have made this building the jewel of the island.
Alex walked over to the pillars and began to closely examine them. Jonathan did the same, hoping to find any clues on these ancient stones. They ran their hands alongside of them, trying to identify any ancient markings. They also inspected the pillars from different angles, hoping an alternative view would uncover something that they had missed.
Alex took out a monocle and held it up to his right eye. He walked around the pillars twice before saying, “Nothing.”
“I agree,” Jonathan answered. “If there were any clues left on these old stones, time washed them away years ago.”
“Where was that other spot you mentioned?” Alex asked, clearly giving up any hope that the pillars would help them.
“In the monastery’s main church,” he explained. “It was the first structure erected here in 1088 when Father Christodoulos came to this island. Let me take you to it.”
Upon hobbling out from this portion of the courtyard, the priest turned to William and asked, “Are you also coming with us young man? The church is one of the most magnificent buildings here in the monastery. You surely don’t want to miss it.”
My cover is blown!
Alex laughed. “Who would have ever thought he would’ve seen you? Dressed in that bright red shirt up against the white wall, you were like a chameleon.”
William kept quiet and begrudgingly walked behind them from a distance as the priest led them through arched walkways and into a connecting courtyard full of potted plants and hanging flowers.
A plethora of Byzantine artwork and frescos greeted them as they walked. The monastery was like an undiscovered art museum with riches abounding at every corner.
An older building with a domed roof stood before them. Unlike the stark white walls and archways around the entire monastery, this structure appeared to be built from a different stone similar to the three pillars in the adjoining courtyard.
Alex recognized the similarity in stone between this building and the pillars and surmised that it must be the church. It all made sense.
While admiring the monastery as he walked, Alex still kept a keen eye on the satellite and continued to watch for any surreptitious activity.
The priest pushed open the church’s wooden door and held it as everyone, including William, walked inside. Candles burned and a fresh smell of incense filled the air.
“This is magnificent,” Marissa uttered.
The church certa
inly did have a striking ambience. With a golden chandelier hanging from the top of the dome, red curtains along the walls, and a gold-colored altar with religious frescos painted along its sides, its décor seemed straight out of the Middle Ages.
Instead of a crucifix, which usually hung behind most altars, an ornately painted fresco of Jesus on the cross stood in its place.
“The church is off limits to all visitors,” Father Kritikos said. “Because of its highly religious significance, only the most elder of priests here in this monastery are allowed to enter.”
Alex walked over to the altar and inspected its artwork. He thought there might be some hidden clue embedded in these ancient frescos. Jonathan and Marissa joined him in his search while William and Guri watched from afar, knowing they probably couldn’t help even if they wanted to.
As Jonathan walked behind the altar, he could not help but notice a large stone around which it had been built.
Before he could comment, Father Kritikos said, “That’s an original stone found at this site in 1088. It was believed to originate from somewhere in Artemis’s temple.”
Alex knelt down and began to inspect it. Looking around its edges and laying his hands along its top, he tried to glean any information it had to offer. He could not help but think if there was any clue back at Megiddo that might help him now find what he was looking for in this church. He ran through the experience there but could not garner any tangible clues from it.
Getting frustrated, he turned to Jonathan and asked, “Was there anything else in the code which could help us here? I feel like I’m trying to find a needle in a haystack.”
Marissa nodded her head in agreement.
“Could you check that original code you showed us where The Disease and Megiddo came together?” he asked. “Is there anything you could have missed?”
Jonathan took out the silver coin-shaped object from his Bible and placed it in his hand. The ancient Hebrew grid of letters appeared above it in the same configuration as he last showed them.
Alex asked, “Does it say anything about a certain stone, passageway, or symbol?”
The New Reality Page 21