Keepers of the Lost Ark

by J. Robert Kennedy

  Fang’s eyes narrowed. “Does he know people there?”

  Milton chuckled. “Well, he knows the Pope, if that counts. But there are others.”

  Sherrie reset the alarm. “Okay, we’ll follow up on it.”

  They stepped outside and Milton closed the door behind them, locking it. “Do you want Tommy to get you that info?”

  Sherrie smiled. “I’m sure our people can handle it.”

  Milton laughed. “Of course.” He sighed. “I’m glad you’re on the job. I’ll rest a little easier.” He shook both their hands then climbed in his car and drove away.

  Sherrie laughed and Fang looked at her. “What?”

  “What he said about resting a little easier. Normally when people like us need to be on the job, it makes sleep more difficult.”

  Fang smiled at the truth in Sherrie’s statement.

  What an odd country.

  27 |

  Unknown Location South of Aksum, Ethiopia

  I give up.

  Acton had tried desperately to keep track of the twists and turns as they had been transported, blindfolded, to where the genuine Ark of the Covenant was apparently kept. But it was no use. Half an hour of lefts and rights, ups and downs, some roads jarring, others as smooth as fresh pavement, had him completely lost.

  For all he knew, they could be back where they started, or in New Jersey.

  The vehicle skidded to a halt and the engine turned off. Doors opened and Acton flinched at Father Amanuel’s voice to his left. “We’re here. Watch your step.”

  A hand on his forearm helped him out of the vehicle, then he was led somewhere for about twenty penguin paces before being brought to a halt.

  “There’s a set of stairs, like before. Be careful.”

  “This would be a lot safer without the blindfolds,” said Laura from behind him.

  “Agreed.”

  “Don’t worry. Once we reach the bottom, you can take them off. We can’t risk you seeing any of the surrounding area. It’s for your own safety.”

  “How?” asked Acton. “You keep saying stuff like that. Who are you trying to keep us safe from?”

  “It does not matter.”

  “I think it does.”

  “If you knew, it would only increase the danger. Now, follow me, carefully.”

  The hand on Acton’s forearm gently pulled him forward, and he inched ahead, finding the first step. It truly was disconcerting, and it reminded him of a conversation where a student claimed he could drive and text at the same time without being distracted. Acton had challenged him to run down the stairs while texting, then led the class to the stairwell to watch the arrogant fool prove his point by nearly breaking his neck.

  Once below ground, he reached out with the other hand and touched the outer wall, giving him more confidence, though only a little. It seemed like an eternity doing this Bird Box style, but they were soon at the bottom where he was led inside, the area noticeably cooler.

  “You can remove your blindfold now.”

  Acton did, sighing in relief and blinking to adjust his eyes. He turned to check on Laura, and smiled at her, reaching out his hand. She took it, then nodded toward the back of the room. Acton frowned at the sight of four men, armed with AKs, all wearing the robes of monks. “Not very Christian.”

  Amanuel chuckled. “They are volunteers who protect us from those who would take what we possess.”

  “Doesn’t that mean you risk exposure from someone talking?”

  Amanuel shrugged. “Who would believe them?”

  “What if one of them gets greedy and decides to just shoot you?”

  “They never know which is the real one.”

  Acton eyed the elderly priest. “Umm, don’t they know now?”

  Amanuel smiled. “None of them speak English.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. We raise them from little boys, and never expose them to the language. They can be trusted to not understand what is going on. Beyond that, it is in God’s hands.”

  “Well, guns make me nervous when they’re not in my hands, because they usually end up shooting at me.” Acton gestured toward the set of locked doors. “Can we see it?”

  Amanuel bowed slightly. “Of course.” He unlocked the doors and pushed them open, revealing a room remarkably similar to the one they had been in half an hour ago. Acton’s heart was hammering anew, and he glanced at Laura as she squeezed his hand. Was this going to be another disappointment, another fake, meant to trick them once again? And how could they know either way without the proper equipment to test?

  Maybe you’ll just know.

  They stepped inside and he frowned, unsure of what he had expected. The room was exactly as the other was, with an ark that appeared in every way the same as the other.

  Except for one thing.

  One of the poles meant to lift it was broken in half, only the gold cladding holding it together.

  Laura let go of his hand and examined the exposed wood. “At least the wood is right this time. Acacia.” She removed a measuring tape from her pocket, quickly taking measurements of the Ark itself, calling out the numbers, Acton performing the math in his head.

  He smiled.

  “Two-and-a-half cubits, by one-and-a-half, by one-and-a-half.”

  Laura nodded, returning the measuring tape to her satchel. “Exactly as described in Exodus.”

  Acton turned to Amanuel. “But how do we know it’s actually the real one? This could just be a better fake.”

  Amanuel smiled. “You must have faith, my son.”

  Acton grunted. “I’m a scientist. I like to deal in facts.”

  Amanuel regarded him for a moment. “When it comes to God, don’t you find that a little difficult?”

  Acton sighed. “You got me there.” He held out his hand, his fingers hovering inches over the gold top, the cherubim on either side. “There is one way to find out.”

  Laura gave him a look. “If God strikes you down, who the hell am I supposed to ask for retribution?”

  Acton grinned. “Good question.”

  Amanuel approached, keeping a reverent distance from the relic. “Have you ever felt the power of God?”

  Acton thought back at some of their escapades over the past several years, his mind settling on two things. The blood relics they had encountered, and the True Cross. He could honestly say he had experienced genuinely spiritual moments, almost rapturous in their intensity.

  He nodded.

  “Then take a moment. Set aside your doubts and consider your history. You are scientists. You know the stories of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, Makeda. You know they had a child together, Menelik. You know the Ark disappeared from Jerusalem. There are several theories as to how, but one is that the firstborn sons, sent with Menelik, stole it. Do you not believe that it is at least possible that these stories are true, and that the Ark has been here all along? Do you really believe a reputable officer like Ullendorff would have reported what he did?”

  “He recanted.”

  “Yes, but not for years, and we can safely assume it was so he wouldn’t be remembered as a laughing stock, for our deceptions had worked, with so many churches claiming to have the genuine article.”

  Acton glanced at Laura. “Reminds me of the Triarii.”

  Laura agreed. “It does, doesn’t it? And it worked for them for two thousand years. Why not three thousand for these guys?”

  Amanuel smiled. “You misunderstand. We merely hid the Ark for many generations. Subterfuge wasn’t necessary until the last century, after Lieutenant Ullendorff’s accidental exposure. Once the word was out, we were forced to go beyond simply hiding the Ark. We had to make it seem ridiculous that we had it.”

  Acton stepped back from the Ark, turning to face their host. “So, those with the fakes know they are fake, but don’t know there actually is a real one out there?”

  “Exactly. Very few know the truth. With dozens of churches making the claim to attract wors
hippers and donations, there would simply be too many involved for the secret to remain so.”

  Acton grunted. “We know man landed on the moon because there were too many involved for the secret to be kept if it weren’t true.”

  Amanuel shrugged. “I know nothing of these things, but I believe you to be correct.” He lowered his voice. “I sense you still have doubts.”

  “I do.”

  “We do,” agreed Laura.

  “Then I will tell you something that is known to fewer still. You can touch the Ark.”

  Acton’s eyes shot wide. “You can? But doesn’t that contradict the Bible?”

  Amanuel shook his head. “No. The Bible says nothing of the consequences of touching the Ark, simply that it shouldn’t be done. We, the Keepers, have discovered through accidents over the generations, that touching the Ark doesn’t kill, as many feared, but instead does something to a man that is so profound, some may wish they had died instead of having experienced it.”

  Acton stared at him skeptically. “What do you mean by profound?”

  Amanuel held up his hands. “I myself have never experienced it, as I am too much the coward. But I know of others who have touched it, and the experience drove some mad, and profoundly changed others.”

  “Changed them how?”

  “I’m not sure how to describe it, exactly, as no one really speaks of it afterward, insisting anyone who wants to know must experience it for themselves.” Amanuel stepped closer to Acton, stretching his hand toward the Ark. “I invite you to touch it, so any doubts you have will be removed, and we can continue with the task at hand.”

  Acton turned to Laura who shook her head. “Don’t do it.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Why? You don’t really think what he’s saying is true, do you?”

  “What if it is? Are you willing to take that risk?”

  Acton was surprised to hear his wife of all people expressing these fears. “Listen, while I may believe in God, I don’t believe in a God that will kill me or drive me insane simply by touching something. The God I believe in is good, not vengeful.” He pointed at the Ark. “This Old Testament stuff was meant to strike fear. I’m more of a New Testament guy.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

  Laura lunged to stop him, but it was too late. He gripped the cherubim, one in each hand.

  And felt nothing.

  He closed his eyes then gasped.

  28 |

  Kingdom of Ethiopia 10th Century BC Forty Years Later

  To say that Menelik was a true believer would be an understatement. He had witnessed the power of God firsthand. Though perhaps that wasn’t entirely accurate. He had witnessed the results of the power of God firsthand. It had been decades since that fateful day on the shores of the Red Sea, but he remembered it like it was yesterday, and it still filled him with terror and reverence.

  Their fates had been sealed, but when he and the others carried the Ark, uncovered, into the battle, he had said a silent prayer, then ordered his men to close their eyes, and keep them closed, no matter what they heard.

  He had checked them all as the Egyptian army charged toward them, and with the first spears in the air, he had closed his own, and prayed for the miracle necessary to save them.

  And when he opened his eyes only minutes later, after what felt like the most vicious of storms had pounded the area around them, the sounds of holy war unlike anything he could have imagined, nor described today, all had fallen silent, and all that remained on the battlefield were him and his companions, the Ark of the Covenant, and the beasts of war the Egyptians had been riding.

  Nothing more.

  The soldiers were gone, as were their weapons.

  Nothing beyond their beasts were left to suggest they had ever been there.

  Not even a single drop of blood.

  “Open your eyes.”

  Tamrin opened a single eye, tentatively, then both. “Where did they go?”

  Menelik shook his head. “I have no idea. God must have taken them.”

  “God?” Tamrin shuddered. “If your Jewish god can do this, then I’ve been worshipping the wrong god.”

  Menelik nodded. “Never before have I even heard of anything such as this, let alone witnessed it.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We thank Him, then get ourselves home as quickly as possible.”

  Tamrin reached out for the Ark. “With this, we can take our time. We are unbeatable!”

  Menelik slapped Tamrin’s hand away. “What did I say? Never touch the Ark!”

  Tamrin bowed. “I’m sorry, sir, I forgot.” He took a healthy step back. “But with this, nobody can hurt us. Imagine what we could do when we return home? We would only need to enter battle once, and word would spread among our enemies that we are never to be touched again.” His chest heaved with the excitement, his eyes widening with thoughts of the power they now wielded. “We could conquer them all!”

  And it was then that Menelik knew what had just saved them, had also cursed them. For just because one could defeat one’s enemies, one shouldn’t necessarily do so. Using the Ark for defense was one thing, but for offense was something entirely different.

  It was a responsibility that had haunted him for decades as king.

  “How are you feeling today, my king?”

  Menelik flinched, snapped from his reverie by his oldest and most trusted friend, Tamrin, no longer the head of his personal guard, that position now occupied by his friend’s grandson, as it had been by his son after he was of sufficient age and experience.

  It was a dynasty that had served the kingdom well, as Menelik’s own son would continue his family’s after his death, a death no longer on the horizon, but merely over the next hill.

  “The same as yesterday, which is to say not good.”

  Tamrin frowned. “You should follow the example set by your mother. She abdicated the throne to you upon your return from the Holy Land, and now it is time for you to do the same.”

  Menelik nodded, his neck spasming. Everything hurt now, everything felt old now. “To be young again.”

  Tamrin grunted. “We’ve both lived good lives. It’s time to make room for those who would follow us and see if they can improve upon what we’ve done.”

  Menelik frowned. “Do you think our sons will do better? Our grandsons?”

  Tamrin regarded him for a moment, then took a seat beside him. “I hope so, though I have my doubts. My son told me just last night that my grandson asked him where the Ark is, and why it hasn’t been used for so long.” He frowned. “I got the sense he felt it was being asked on behalf of another.”

  “My grandson.”

  “It was only a sense.”

  “Unfortunately, I think you’re correct in your suspicions. While my son and heir understands the horrific powers of the Ark, for he saw it the last time it was used, my grandson has never seen it, and I fear, once he has the power to command it, he will use it on our enemies, to conquer them once and for all.” He shook his head. “The innocent shouldn’t suffer under the power we wield. Let our enemies be, and as long as they do the same, there is no need for the Ark.”

  “Perhaps we should return it to the Israelites.”

  Menelik sighed. “I’ve thought of that. If they believed we still had it, then I’m certain they would have sent an army to retrieve it, but I believe our spies are correct, and that they think the Egyptians or the Philistines have it.”

  “Because there was no record of us putting to port.”

  “Exactly. They must believe that there is no record because the Egyptians want to hide the fact they confiscated it from us, or because we never made it home with it, a Philistine raiding party seizing it. Either way, we don’t have it, and my father obviously decided not to pursue it any further, at least where we are concerned.”

  “Then why not return it?”

  “I don’t think God wants me to.”

  “Excuse me?” Tamrin eyed him. “Have
you been hearing voices?”

  Menelik chuckled. “No, I haven’t, thank you, but don’t you think if God didn’t want us to have the Ark, he wouldn’t have allowed us to keep it in the first place? Not to mention the fact he let us use it to defend ourselves on multiple occasions.”

  Tamrin nodded. “It is true that I’ve often thought about this. He clearly demonstrated His power on our behalf whenever we needed it.”

  “Then I suggest He doesn’t want the Israelites to have it. After all, most of our people now worship Him, so are we any less chosen than the Israelites?”

  Tamrin grunted. “That might be stretching it.”

  Menelik laughed. “Perhaps, though there is some truth there.” He leaned closer to his friend. “Lately, I have been thinking that the decision should be left in God’s hands.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t believe any man should wield such power unless it is the will of God.”

  “Agreed, but clearly it was His will that allowed that power to be wielded on our behalf, and that of its previous owners.”

  “Yes, but think about it. The Jews needed the Ark to protect them while they were weak. Now they are strong. Do they really need it anymore? And look at us. We didn’t ask for the Ark, we didn’t steal it, yet just when we needed it, we discovered we had it.” He regarded his friend. “Remember that day? You found it and brought it to me, then only moments later the Egyptian army was spotted. Moments later. What if they had shown up just five minutes earlier? We wouldn’t be sitting here today, and the Egyptians would have marched across half the known world by now with such power. Instead, it was revealed to us the very moment we needed it, and saved us, and eventually our people, when our enemies dared attack after my mother’s abdication. They thought we were weak, and they were proven wrong. I believe the Ark will find a way to help those who need it most, and right now, that isn’t us or the Israelites.”

  “If not us, then who?”

  Menelik shrugged. “I have no idea. That is for God to decide.”