Pandora's Ark Read Free Page B

the waist. Once at the passageway, the other laborers gave him a
wide berth.
    A laborer then handed him a heavy-duty flashlight
that had the advertised capacity of lighting an area with the same power as
10,000 candles. Yet it was incapable of penetrating deep into the cavern.
    “It’s definitely a hollow chamber,” he said. “But
it’s not the Chamber.”
    With guarded prudence al-Ghazi entered the room
with his flashlight scoping the area and the immediate ground in front of him.
    Pressing on he noted a glint of light—a spangle of
gold—from the corner of his eye before it winked out and disappeared. Adjusting
the flashlight to the source of the glitter it cast upon something not quite
decipherable in the darkness. Whatever it was lay just beyond the light’s
fringe, but a form nonetheless.
    As he moved closer the flashlight began to give the
artifact shape, contour and clarity. And in an instant he knew he had finally
found the true Ark of the Covenant.
    He had read all the ancient tablets, texts and
scrolls pertaining to the whereabouts of the Ark, as well as the Bible and
Quran only to find the locations documented by witnesses who had most likely
seen replicas and duplicates. But never was there any mention of a room
connected to the main chamber beneath the Temple Mount. And since the room did
not exist by historical reference, al-Ghazi concluded that the true Ark was never meant to be found. By the luck of Allah, he found it by serendipity.
    The Arab moved closer, the Ark dulled by years of
collecting dust, but pure in essence. With his flashlight he moved its beam
over the Ark and along its base, noting the skeletal remains of the Ark’s Keepers. For 3000 years the cloth of their robes degenerated, leaving nothing but
swatches of fabric awkwardly entwined around bone. And for 3000 years their
secret was safe.
    Until now , he thought.
    Lifting a hand to the Ark, he let his fingers graze
softly over the wings of the cherubim figures and smiled. To touch the Ark was certain death, which was chronicled in just about every written piece of document
in existence. But here he was, a hand gliding over the actual Ark of the
Covenant sensing no heat, no cold, nor a static charge of electricity. It was
simply gold and nothing more than a vintage scarecrow that kept the masses in
line and their blind faith intact. Or so he believed. Nevertheless, such a
treasure would harbor more than just faith and hope. It would soon hold death
and darkness. 
    “Remove the cap,” he ordered.
    Four men that looked as if they had mined for days
without bathing, their bodies shining with sweat and grime, carefully pushed
the cap to one side, then lifted it and gingerly placed the lid on the ground
between the skeletal remains of two Keepers.
    Inside the Ark lay more treasures.
    Lying untouched for three millennia were four
items: a gold pot filled with the dust of something having perished over time;
the staff belonging to Aaron, the brother of Moses; and two stone tablets
written in the language of Adam, the Ten Commandments.
    Even though he was a non-believer, al-Ghazi seemed
awed by the discovery in what appeared to be reverence.
    With a great measure of prudence al-Ghazi lifted
one of the tablets, the writing well preserved, and traced his fingers over the
engraved words.
    “Written by the fingers of God,” he commented
softly to no one in particular. And then he returned the tablet to the Ark with the same care of laying a baby within its crib. “We’ll take the tablets,” he
added. “But leave the staff and the golden pot as proof to the Israelis that
the Ark has been discovered and that we’re in possession of it. And be careful
transporting it!”
    Bowing their heads in acknowledgment, the miners
removed the original poles, which had become brittle and flaked when touched,
and replaced them with metal rods.
    Within the hour the Ark was removed from the
chamber with the staff of Aaron and the golden pot left behind, and