“Leave the Ark here,” the Bedu ordered.
Relieved, the four Judeans lowered the Ark to the rocky ground.
“Come,” the Bedu ordered. They followed, the guards falling in behind them as they continued up the trail about four hundred meters, to a point where a tall rock, over twenty-five meters in height, jutted out from the side of the mountain. The Bedu went up to the base of the rock andplaced the eye symbol he had shown Moses during the first meeting against it. The Judeans were startled as a doorway, three meters wide by two high, appeared.
One of the four held back, not willing to go into the dark entrance. The Bedu showed little patience, snapping an order in his own language to the guards. They slew the Judean where he stood, severing his head from his body, the blood pumping out onto the rock before the doorway. The others needed no more incentive. They rushed through the doorway and it slid shut behind them.
“I am a vengeful God.”
The voice echoed in the darkness, against the stone walls of the chamber. A light began to grow from a line in the ceiling and a figure was revealed standing on the other side of the cavern: a tall man robed in black. A hood hid his face.
“You will obey or you will suffer, as your comrade did.”
The Judeans fell to their knees and prostrated themselves, foreheads to the floor. Moses hesitated, then slowly went to his knees and bowed his head.
“I am the one and only God,” the figure continued. “You will worship me and you will obey my rules for your people. You will keep the Ark in your care, but you must never open it. Death will be the penalty for whoever opens it and gazes upon what is inside.”
The figure turned toward a doorway on the far side of the chamber. “Come with me and see what wondrous things I have for you.”
Aspasia’s Shadow watched Moses and the surviving three Judeans carry the Ark along the trail and out of sight, heading back toward their encampment. They were Guides now, their will suborned to the programming of theguardian computer he had taken them to deep inside the mountain.
Aspasia’s Shadow had played with the idea of keeping the Ark and Grail here, but knew that if his maker ever came to check on him, such an act would result in his immediate termination. He knew that he should take the Ark and Grail from the Judeans and return it to Giza. But — and there was always a but — he also knew doing so would take away any hope he ever had of partaking of the Grail. He was tired of this endless series of reincarnations in the service of the Airlia. He had more than enough of Aspasia’s personality to know his maker would dispose of him like so much trash when the time came for the Airlia to resume their control of this world. And if Artad prevailed, the result would be the same. Aspasia’s Shadow had to make his own plans, and letting the Judeans take the Ark and Grail with them provided just one of many options he wanted to keep open.
He had imprinted into the three Judeans and Moses the imperative that they were to make security of the Ark their paramount concern. On top of that, he had reinforced the Judeans’ belief in their one God. Religion, as the Airlia had learned, was a most effective way of keeping humans under control. They had always made the humans worship them, but Aspasia’s Shadow thought it was a good idea to introduce the concept of more gods to the humans.
We did well,” Gwalcmai said as they began to strip down in preparation for entering the deep sleep tubes. It had taken them two years of hard traveling to make it back to their ship. Gwalcmai now sported a wicked-looking scar along his right arm from shoulder to elbow from a battle in the forests of Gaul, where they had been ambushed by thieves and barely escaped with their lives.
Donnchadh nodded. “The Airlia no longer have control of the Grail. That is a large step. But I am worried about Moses and the Judeans and—”
Gwalcmai put his hand over her mouth. “Hush. Do not go into the deep sleep with worries. They’ll rattle around in your head all those years and give you a headache. Let me give you a good memory to take with you.” He lifted her off her feet and carried her forward to the pilot’s seat.
Moses did not survive to lead the Judeans into the land he had promised them. Aspasia’s Shadow learned this from one of his Bedu spies who had trailed the Judeans north to Palestine. However, the twelve tribes had united strongly after Moses and the elders came down from the mountain with their unshakable belief in one God and a set of divine rules by which the people were to live. Humans liked external rules — it was something the Airlia had bred into the species.
Their fledgling kingdom was not only surviving but flourishing. Their single-minded belief in only one God gave them a great advantage over their neighbors who worshipped many Gods, if they worshipped at all. Aspasia’s Shadow felt quite satisfied that the Ark and Grail would be safe for some time.
That did not mean, of course, that he was not going to implement more of his plans.
XIII
Donnchadh felt refreshed and vaguely optimistic as she opened her eyes. She smiled as she remembered Gwalcmai and his “farewell” to her before entering the tubes this last time. He had been right — good memories were the way to enter the deep sleep.
The smile was gone as she sat up. What had happened while they slept? Was the Grail safe? Were the Airlia still asleep and the Atlantis Truce in place? Was the planet safe from the Swarm? She swung her legs over the side of the tube and touched the cold deck plating. She threw on a robe and slipped on sandals, then scurried over to the copilot’s seat and booted up the computer.
“Worried already?” Gwalcmai’s voice was hoarse, as always after the deep sleep.
“You know me well,” Donnchadh said.
“It was nice the one time you awakened me with a kiss,” Gwalcmai. “If I woke first, that is what I would do every time. But I am a slow riser.”
Donnchadh paused, her fingers over the keyboard. She slowly turned to face her husband. “I am sorry. I am always in a rush—”
“When there is a need to hurry, you will see no one go faster,” Gwalcmai interrupted her as he climbed out of his tube and got dressed. “But at this moment, upon awakening, unless there is an alarm going off, there is no need to rush.”
Donnchadh forced herself to get out of the chair and go to her husband. She felt the pull of the computer and whatever information it had, but for once she allowed the stronger feeling deep inside her to rule.
Aspasia’s Shadow cursed as the spray of blood from the captive’s throat left a trail of red across his gleaming breastplate. “Pull him back next time, you fools,” he hissed at the two legionnaires who held the arms of the dying Jew. It was always difficult to train new help, he reflected as a slave gingerly wiped at the armor, eyes downcast, afraid of suffering the same fate.
The dead man had been worthless. As had the hundreds before him that Aspasia’s Shadow had also tortured and killed. True, he had learned much of the history of the Judeans since they had arrived here after following Moses so many years earlier, but history held little interest for Aspasia’s Shadow. It was the present and the future that he was concerned about.