His focus, however, was on the closest table and the most recent addition to the state of Israel’s secret archives. Taken from the Mission’s base under Mount Sinai, the Ark of the Covenant rested on a cloth-covered platform. Sherev stopped just short of the table, getting his first good look at the artifact.
The Ark was three feet high and wide and about four feet long. The surface was gold-plated. On the lid were two sphinxlike figures with ruby-red eyes. From the reports he’d received, Sherev knew that when the Ark had contained the Grail, the eyes had been an active security system, killing any who approached unless he wore a special garment that lay next to the Ark on the same table. It appeared that removing the Grail had deactivated the system.
Sherev ran a hand along the top of the Ark of the Covenant. Even he who had grown cynical during his decades fighting Israel’s covert wars was touched by actually being in the presence of something so essential to his country’s faith. Even though he knew it was an Airlia artifact, he could still envision it being carried across the desert by his ancestors.
Since recovering the Ark of the Covenant from the Mission, Sherev had spent much time reflecting on the faith his parents had raised him in. Sherev swallowed hard as the implications struck home with full force, here in the presence of the Ark. The Ark of the Covenant — but what covenant? Was Moses the man whom his countrymen believed in, or, as now appeared, someone very different? Had Moses been a Guide under the influence of an alien guardian, a pawn in the civil war between the factions? Or had he acted of his own free will? And even if he had, did it make any difference if the Ark was an Airlia artifact and his trip up Mount Sinai had not been to speak to God, but to speak with Aspasia’s Shadow?
Sherev had seen many of his countrymen die for their faith even as he had killed those of other countries who’d fought for their beliefs. If all were lies—
Sherev was startled as the phone on the wall near the door emitted an irritating buzz. Reluctantly he went over to it and lifted the receiver.
“Sherev,” he snapped.
“Sir.” He recognized the voice of his senior aide. “Intelligence reports that Jordanian, Syrian, and Egyptian forces are mobilizing.”
Sherev was not surprised. The Iraqis and Iranians had been on full wartime footing since the moment it was announced that Saddam Hussein had been assassinated.
“We have been ordered to prepare to go to stage three,” the aide continued. Sherev’s eyes went to the wall of the chamber, as if he could see into the next one, where the bombs rested. Stage three meant the warheads were to be moved to the surface in preparation for deployment to their various delivery platforms. In his years there they had never gone to stage three, not even during the Gulf War, when Saddam had fired Scuds at Israel. But again, Sherev was not surprised. Recent events were propelling the world into a path not seen since 1939.
“And, sir—” The aide hesitated; making Sherev wonder what could be worse than the news he had just received.
“Yes?”
“Hasher Lakur is here.”
Lakur was an influential member of Parliament and the one who had gotten the government to trade the thummin and urim to Al-Iblis — who they now knew was
Aspasia’s Shadow — in exchange for Saddam’s assassination. It had been a deal with the devil that Sherev had opposed.
“What does he want?” “The Ark.”
Sherev turned back to the table on which the artifact rested. He didn’t need to ask. He knew why Lakur wanted it — as a symbol to the country, to unite them in the coming war. But it was an empty symbol, Sherev knew, both literally and figuratively.
“He has authority from the Parliament to claim it,” the aide added.
Sherev hit the open button and the vault door slowly swung wide. He could see soldiers in the corridor, already moving to get the nukes. He almost laughed from the insanity. Nuclear warheads and the legendary Ark of the Covenant. An interesting combination for Armageddon.
CHAPTER 5: THE PAST
The scout ship had followed the previous ship’s trail for over four thousand Earth years. Time meant little to those who crossed the vastness of space, and especially the creatures inside the ship. Owing to their life span, they viewed time very differently from humans. Also, the crew had been in suspension for most of the journey. They remained in that state as the craft decelerated from interstellar speed, a process that took several years and a long orbit around the system’s star.
The crew was awakened as the ship approached the inner planets. Knowing the first ship had disappeared somewhere in the vicinity of this star system, the crew maneuvered with more diligence. They picked up signs of civilization on the third planet and headed toward it.
The scout ship entered the atmosphere of the third planet, searching for any sign of the first craft and scanning the civilization. It was passing above the world’s largest landmass when it was struck by an unexpected bolt of power from below and exploded.
The craft was seriously damaged and the crew tried desperately to retreat to the safety of space, but to no avail. It lost altitude, screaming through the atmosphere over the planet’s largest landmass. An escape craft holding some of the crew popped out of one side, while a few members tried to bring the crippled scout in for a landing.
They failed, and it smashed into the planet, the explosion devastating the countryside, on a scale not seen since meteors had hit the planet many millennia earlier.
The escape craft raced around the planet, settling in to land underwater, as far away from the crash site as possible. Sensors on the fourth planet picked up the escape craft, but also the lack of any signal from the main ship before destruction.
All went back to the status quo.
In the submerged escape craft, the few survivors slowly began to study the planet on which they had landed, prepared to spend many years doing so before settling on a course of action.
CHAPTER 6: THE PRESENT
Aspasia’s Shadow lay perfectly still. His eyes were closed and his chest was barely moving. His body was bathed in the golden light of the guardian. The Grail was on the table next to him.
There were two things happening in the chamber.
Kelly Reynolds’s wasted body was twitching and vibrating as her mind struggled to find a way to send out a message of warning and information. She had picked out the critical parts of Aspasia’s Shadow’s plan and knew she had to get the information out. And she was quite close to accomplishing that very thing.
And at the end of Aspasia’s Shadow’s right arm, at the severed wrist, where raw flesh and bone met the air, there was a black-and-red foam bubbling up. And millimeter by millimeter, a new hand began to grow.
The Chinese president held a videotape in his hand as he entered the hall of the National People’s Conference. The buzz among the delegates about the suddenly called Assembly fell away to respectful silence as the president made his way to the front of the hall.
Just before he mounted the podium, he handed the video to a technician. He took his place behind the microphone.
“The videotaped message I am about to show you was just received by my office. It was transmitted from Qian-Ling.”
He gestured and the room went dim. The large screen behind him flickered. A short Chinese man in a golden robe appeared. Behind him was a seven-foot-tall alien with red cat eyes and red hair. There was absolute silence in the hall. The creature — an Airlia they knew from news reports from the West — began speaking in a singsong voice. The man in front translated in Chinese.