In the Beginning: Mars Origin I Series Book I Page 9

  “He said he didn’t know anything about them being moved or destroyed or anything. He said that of course he would help us any way he could and for you to call him when you got here. He gave me a number for you to call.” She started digging around in her purse for the number.

  “Don’t worry about looking for it now. Just give it to me when we get to the hotel. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “What he said.”

  “Before what?”

  “Before now. Like when I first got here. When I first got off the plane. When you told me the journals were missing. Why didn’t you tell me at any of those times?”

  “I did.” She looked at the face I was making. “Well, I’m telling you now,” she said.

  “Never mind, Claire.”

  I returned to my silent gaze out of the window. Claire told Michael and Greg about the seminar and all the souvenirs she bought. The three of them laughed and talked. I didn’t say a word the rest of the way to the hotel.

  We stayed at the same hotel I stayed in when I came for the seminar. I knew Greg would appreciate it just as I had. Greg and Michael shared a suite and I stayed in Claire’s room. Once we got to the rooms, I went in to take a bath. I really needed to think. I told Claire to call Ghazi while I was in the tub to see if he found out anything else. Maybe he had a plan, because I definitely didn’t.

  Claire had about ten candles in the bathroom and some exotic smelling bath oil and bubble bath. After her little comment about Ghazi I was afraid to ask her why she had that stuff.

  I heard her dialing the phone. Maybe, I thought, I should supervise that phone call. “Salacious,” I giggled. The things that come out of that girl’s mouth.

  I lit the candles and ran a tub of hot water with lots of bubbles. I undressed and slid into the tub. It felt so relaxing. I just sat there for a long time and played with the bubbles. Then I leaned back and rested my head on the back of the tub. I closed my eyes and watched as each and every word that Dr. Yeoman had written in his journal come dancing before me. The words came to my mind as clear as day. Taunting me. Some words seemed more clear than others - - like ‘destroy’ and ‘disturbing revelation.’ I watched them shimmy and shake and march around like a drum majorette.

  Claire opened the door and came into the bathroom. The words from the journal slid down into the bubbles, popping as they hit.

  “You sleeping in the tub?” She came over and sat on the side of the tub.

  “No.” I opened my eyes. “I wasn’t sleep. Here, wash my back.” I handed her the soap and washcloth and leaned forward.

  “You talk to Ghazi?” I asked. I knew she had, but it seemed she wasn’t going to tell me anything without some prodding.

  She moved the cloth in circular motions. “Yeah,” she said, again with that dreamy voice.

  “Have you been on the phone with him all this time?”

  I turned and looked up at her. She smiled and said nothing. She rinsed the soap from the washcloth and let the water run down my back as she squeezed the cloth.

  “Well, have you?” I persisted.

  “Do you want to know what he said about the journals?” She tried to change the subject.

  “Oh, so now you’re keeping secrets,” I said.

  She smiled. “Do you want to know what he said or not?”

  “What did he say, Claire?” I conceded. I wasn’t getting any juicy information from her. So back to business.

  “He told me that they had moved the books to the Giv’at Ram Campus. He said that they didn’t move the books because of any suspicion, and that he doesn’t think that anyone knows what you found in those books. He said they created an archive for the history of the project because during the fifty-year anniversary celebration, you know the one you came to? Well, a lot of people donated things that they had or one of their family members had that had worked on the Scrolls or people that had some kind of dealings with them over the years. Things like journals, personal belongings of the scholars, things like that. Someone even had one of the clay pots the Scrolls were found in. Isn’t that like theft or something?” She looked at me. I looked back with pursed lips and blinked my eyes repeatedly. I guess she figured out I didn’t care what the heck was going on. I just wanted to know about the journals.

  “Anyway,” she said “everything was put away until they could actually ready a place to exhibit all the donations.”

  “So, they weren’t trying to hide them?”

  “Nope. Ghazi said Dr. Yeoman’s wife had donated those journals some years back and they had left them in that office because that was his office. No one had ever donated anything at that time so they just kept them in the file cabinets. Did you know he was an alumnus of this University?”

  There she goes with that extraneous information again. I hunched my shoulders and let out a heavy sigh.

  “Anyway,” she said, louder this time, “they needed the office for something else, no, I think they were going to paint it - - or something, I don’t remember but they moved the books to the other campus with the other things that people donated. No big mystery.”

  “No big mystery?” I practically shouted and made a big splash in the water. “It still doesn’t explain why Dr. Yeoman destroyed the manuscripts. We still have to figure that out.” I was annoyed at her comment. I got out of the tub, splattering water everywhere. I hoped some got on her. I grabbed a towel and went into the next room and started to get dressed for dinner.

  As soon as I started to dry off I immediately felt bad about being so short with Claire, although she did kind of deserve it for being so mysterious about Ghazi and making me dig for answers. Still, I should try to do better. It doesn’t seem to bother her, though. I heard her in there letting the water out of the tub and cleaning up my big mess. But before we met Greg and Michael for dinner, I did remember to thank her for all her help. I was really glad she came.

  We met Greg and Michael at the hotel restaurant. I told them about the journals being moved to start an archive of some sort, and everything else that Ghazi had told Claire. I explained that the Giv’at Ram Campus was part of the Hebrew University and was located in West Jerusalem.

  “So then, they didn’t even realize there was a possibility that something disturbing might be in the journals.” Michael said.

  “Can you believe it?” I shook my head. “Something as important as this and no one knows. Or, at least acting as if they don’t know.”

  “So, Justin,” Michael said, “that means you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you. They’re not trying to cover up anything.”

  “Dr. Yeoman was,” I reminded him. Although, he was kind of right, I had to admit maybe this whole thing wasn’t as surreptitious as I first thought.

  “Dr. Yeoman was fifty year ago,” he said, “I’m talking about today. Justin, this is better,” he continued, “because now you can find out the things you want to know and you don’t have to sneak around to do it, right?”

  “Right. I guess.” I still wasn’t completely convinced.

  “If no one is worried about these documents, maybe there is nothing to them,” Greg said. “Kind of blows your theory about murder and mayhem doesn’t it?”

  Claire and Michael started to laugh. I glared at Claire. She tucked her head and tried to muffle her laughter.

  “Yes, there is something to this,” I said. “There’s more to this than meets the eye, believe me.”

  I knew it was. I had a gut feeling about this.

  Over dinner we made plans to go over to the Giv’at Ram Campus the next day after Claire came from the seminar. Greg couldn’t understand why we all had to go now that he was convinced that all the evidence pointed to no cover-up. I told him that he must not remember the television show Mission Impossible. There was always a “team” that went in on the assignment.

  Greg shook his head, “I told you, Justin, you watch too much TV.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

&nb
sp; Ghazi had found out exactly where the journals were being kept.

  We met him the next day at the campus about five o’clock in the evening. I figured he needed to come just in case the room was locked. He could stand sentinel at the door for us as well. Plus, I felt more comfortable with him there.

  I had brought Michael janitorial-looking clothes so he could carry the copier in without looking suspicious, figuring he would look more like a maintenance guy just moving equipment. Greg wouldn’t let him put them on. He snatched them out of my hand when I attempted to give them to Michael and just shook his head. I started to protest, but I wouldn’t have won that argument. It didn’t matter, we probably looked suspicious anyway. We didn’t exactly fit in a place normally filled with Jews. At least Ghazi looked as if he belonged.

  There were very few people at the University, and luckily no one on the floor where the journals were. We found the notebooks and I read the entry out loud to everyone.

  “Is this why we came half way around the world? For this small entry in a journal?” Greg seemed agitated. He acted as if he didn’t understand how important this “small entry” was.

  “No. We came so I could find the manuscripts that Dr. Yeoman was talking about in the journal. Or at least the translation of it, if in fact he did destroy the originals. So, everyone grab a journal and look through it and see if you can find anything suspicious.”

  “How will we know what’s suspicious, Justin? We don’t know anything about this,” Greg complained.

  “Use your common sense. It’s all in plain English.”

  “How about if we look for diaries of the guy who translated it, the one you said was murdered,” Michael offered.

  “Now, there’s an idea,” Greg folded him arms and waited for my answer.

  “I don’t know his name.”

  “You’ve got this guy getting killed right smack dab in the middle of a conspiracy that, per you, will rock the entire world, and you don’t even know his name?” Greg said. He stood with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.

  “Please, just help me look,” I said. Greg whispered something to Michael and they both shot a look at me. One look at my pitiful face and Michael seemed to swallow the laugh just about to erupt, but his face still had that shadow of a smirk.

  As I leafed through the pages of Dr. Yeoman’s journal, the paper that was stuck in the leaves of the pages fell out just like it did the day I showed the journal to Dr. Margulies. It fell to the floor and Greg picked it, flipped it over and back and handed it to me. This time I looked at it. The paper was folded over and had been sealed with wax. It had never been opened and from the condition of the paper I could tell that it was very old. I opened it up and read it.

  October 22, 1949

  The group of four manuscripts found in Cave No. 4 does not appear Biblical in content, or sound in discourse. I do not know the origins of these documents. I cannot begin to understand the mind of a man who would write such things and place them among the sacraments of God. But that is where they were found and that is where I will return them. To the earth from where they hailed.

  I have yet to speak of what was written in the documents, and I dare not write it for fear the information will cause great pains to mankind. I have written in my journal the events of the day as I have done every day since I started on this project. However, in my journal I did not give the whereabouts of the manuscripts. It will take the extra step of finding this letter to find the manuscripts and if no one finds this letter, then no one will know. I will place it in a most obvious place. People are not curious about the obvious. It will be safer that way. This is my way of hiding the documents and not destroying history.

  The manuscripts are curious in that they, apart from all the other manuscripts, have remained intact. They are not fragmented, yet they were found among the other manuscripts. The parchment and the ink appear to be the same. They have withstood the weather of time quite remarkably. They are different as they contain three different languages, written not within sections but within each line as to encode its secrets. Whoever comes across this letter and finds the manuscripts will know which they are from that description.

  I cannot in any good conscience destroy these manuscripts. I have taken an oath to preserve our history. But I cannot let the world find out what is contained within them. The remaining fragments will be renumbered. There are hundreds. It will be under my direction and no one working on the project will know that these were ever numbered with the other Scrolls. These manuscripts, which are presently numbered Q4:109-112, will be returned to the cave where they have kept their secrets for thousands of years. Hopefully that is where they will remain.

  I write this letter so there is some documentation of the manuscripts’ whereabouts. There has never been any knowledge of their contents before, as far as I know, but they were left in my care and I feel that I at least have this obligation.

  Perhaps one day the world will be able to handle the information contained within these manuscripts. But not today. Not now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I gasped. “He put the manuscripts back in the cave.” My mouth was opened wide and so were my eyes. My hands were shaking, my heart was beating fast. Everyone looked at me. I looked up from the letter at them. “I can’t believe it. He put them back in the cave where they were found.”

  “What? The documents? How do you know? What is that you have, Justin?” Greg walked over to me and took the letter out of my trembling hands and read it.

  “What does it say, Greg,” Claire asked. Greg kept reading the letter silently.

  I spoke up. “Dr. Yeoman took the manuscripts and put them back in the cave where they were originally found. He didn’t destroy them.”

  “Where were they found?” Claire asked.

  “In the caves at Qumran, I told you that before. They were with the Dead Sea Scrolls.”

  Greg finished the letter. “Well, I guess we can go now, we know what happened.”

  “No,” I cried, rather loudly. “We need to see if we can find the translation of the manuscript that he put back.” My heart was beating so fast.

  “Justin, he said he didn’t leave any evidence lying around and he hid the originals. There is nothing left to do but go and get them from the cave.”

  “We’re going to the cave and get the manuscripts?” I said in shock. I couldn’t believe my ears.

  “Yes, why wouldn’t we? What is wrong with you, Justin?”

  “Oh, I thought when you said, ‘we can go now,’ you meant we had to go back home.”

  Greg shook his head and started putting the journals back. I guess I was acting too scatterbrained for him even to respond.

  I stood there and thought about what had just happened. Could it be this easy? Could Greg be going along with my madness without question? Was I really going to get the original manuscripts? I jumped into high gear. Yes, I thought, okay then. Let’s get these journals put away and get to the caves.

  Then paranoia kicked in.

  “Oh no,” my mumble was barely audible. What if someone had already gone to the cave and retrieved the manuscripts?

  “Right, so let’s go get them,” I managed to choke out, a sudden bout of fear taking my breath away. I didn’t want anyone else to get to those manuscripts before I did. Goosebumps begin to prickle my arms and a wild panic burned in my chest.

  “I want to get those manuscripts.” Louder this time. My outburst startled the others and they stopped what they were doing and looked at me.

  “Hold on, Justin,” Greg ordered. “Calm down. We’re not going tonight. We’ll go tomorrow.”

  “What if someone gets them first?”

  “Justin, if nobody found them during the last fifty years one more night will not make a difference. And the letter was sealed right?” I nodded my head. “So, no one else even knows where they are.”

  Okay, so Greg was right. I just needed to calm down. But how is that possible? I thought. I am so ex
cited.

  We got back to the hotel and went our separate ways. But I couldn’t sleep that night at all. I kept Claire up all night talking about the manuscripts. I was so keyed up. I paced the floor. I fussed about Greg making me wait until tomorrow to go, then I praised him for being so smart and taking charge. If Claire wasn’t already batty from dealing with me over the past few days, she would have been after spending that night with me. We ordered room service about two o’clock in the morning and talked until dawn. At which time, I was ready for everyone to get up, put on their climbing boots and go.

  Unfortunately, Claire had one last day at the seminar. So, we had to wait. I tried to talk Greg into going without her, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

  Then I decided I would just go, by myself. But I was acting so neurotic that Greg said he didn’t even know if he would let me go to the bathroom by myself. Greg and Michael had to practically sit on me to keep me still. But then, after Claire got back from the seminar, and it came time to leave to go to the caves, I suddenly changed my tune. Again.

  “Let’s just wait until dark because someone might see us,” I told Greg. I had found out that there were excavations going on at some of the caves. I even warned Greg about getting disbarred if we got caught by someone on one of the archaeological teams.

  But Greg said that there was no need to wait since no one was suspicious. And Michael said it would be easier if we did it while it was still a little light outside. Plus, we were just tourists, he said. “The people on the dig won’t pay any attention to us.”

  “Can we at least wait until dusk?” I asked.

  Why did I say that? Greg went ballistic. He started yelling at me, pulled me up off the bed where I was sitting and told me to get ready.

  “Right now, Justin!” he yelled. Then he kept yelling, talking about me acting frenzied all day and couldn’t wait to go, and I was so anxious to get there that I was willing to leave Claire. Now I was acting as if I was afraid to leave the hotel. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that I had better calm down and get it together, or, yep, he was going to choke me.