An excerpt from
The
Serpent's Seed
by David
Maring
Chapters #1-4
PROLOGUE
The
Fallen Angel, given the name
Serpent by man, looked at the earth spinning
on
its axis. How many eons had elapsed since he corrupted God’s
plan by sowing
his
seed within the Maker’s creation.
The
Serpent looked forward to the events described in Revelation, when he
would
return and exercise dominion over the earth.
God,
bound as with a chain by the irrevocable spirit of free will given to
the
creatures
below, watched from the heavens.
CHAPTER
1
Timbuktu
was once a center of learning that boasted a library in ancient times
rivaled
only by those existing in Alexandria and Rome. Political upheaval
contributed
to
the city’s downfall, but the changing climate provided its death knell.
The
approaching sands threatened to bury what remained of this once great
civilization.
In
the underground basement of this former great library, on a hot windy
day
in
June, Professor William Weston discovered the map; his goal at last
accomplished
after
years of tedious work. No longer would he have to suffer eyestrain,
looking
through dusty materials in obscure places and following trails that
frequently
led
to dead ends. Enoch was now within his grasp.
Rachael
Goldstein’s knowledge of ancient languages allowed her to interpret
the
document for the Professor under the light of a candle held by the old
custodian.
When
she finished translating, this old man took a fistful of American
dollars
and
turned his back as they departed with the document. With the ancient
map
in hand, the pair traveled to their tents on the outskirts of Timbuktu
where
Imnah,
their servant, waited with tubs of hot water to remove the day’s
accumulated
dirt
and sweat.
----
After
several shampoos, the sand finally came out of Rachael’s hair. The task
completed,
she reached in her trunk and pulled out the only outfit she brought to
this
backwater besides baggy pants and work shirts. There was cause to
celebrate
their
last night in this godforsaken land, and Professor Weston had promised
to
open
the wine Imnah recently purchased at the marketplace.
When
Bill Weston stepped out of the tent that evening, he saw that Imnah
had
placed the folding dinner table near a blazing fire. Strange, he
thought, how
the
desert, so hot during the day, always freezes at night as the
temperature plummets.
Shivering,
he stepped closer to the warmth of the fire. A moment later, the servant
brought
him a goblet of wine. The warm sensation produced quick relief
from
the cold.
Emerging
from her tent, Rachael saw the Professor standing in the distance.
Pausing
a moment, she observed him. She had learned little from this man about
his
personal life during their time spent together during the last year.
Always so
deeply
engrossed in his project, that if one didn’t know better, it might be
said he
was
obsessed by it. She did discover from other sources that her employer
was
forty
and divorced. Apparently his wife left him for another man. Maybe, she
thought,
that is why he buries himself in the pursuit of biblical archaeology and
doesn’t
seem to have an interest in the opposite sex, or perhaps his wife left
him because
of
it. A handsome man, but probably a little too old for me. Nevertheless,
this job
had
so isolated her socially that perhaps, if he would show a little
interest, she
might
reciprocate.
Bill
saw her coming toward the fire. How beautiful she looked in the black
skirt
and light blue blouse, so much better than in those loose fitting work
clothes.
For the first time, he noticed her as a woman. Perhaps it was the wine
or
maybe
just the loneliness he felt.
“I’m
glad you’re here, the food’s ready. Imnah, pour Ms. Goldstein a glass of
wine.”
At
the table, they indulged in the prepared goat meat and rice. As they
devoured
the food, she noticed how the light from the fire, dancing in the
background,
caused
his blue eyes to sparkle. Her tongue loosened by the wine,
Rachael
talked about her past. Her family immigrated to Israel when she was
three.
Her father, Dr. Benjamin Rabon, fled Yemen one-step ahead of the death
squads
bent on killing the Jews and seizing their property. It had been
emotionally
devastating
to her Dad, whose ancestors had been in Yemen since they fled
the
sacking of Jerusalem by the Romans centuries earlier.
Rachael’s
interest in archaeology began at an early age. She was encouraged by
her
father—Department Head of Middle Eastern Studies at Hebrew University.
As
the only girl with three older brothers, she was doted upon. The death
of her
mother
when she was nine left her living a sheltered life under her father’s
watch
ful
eye until she entered the university. There she fell in love with a
student
whose
family had emigrated from America. Her family approved of the marriage,
provided
she postpone the wedding until after graduation. But a year later when
her
fiancé, Jerome, received his six months mobilization order as a member
of the
Israel
Self-Defense Force, they decided to ignore the wishes of family. The day
after
their wedding, Jerome reported for active duty. A week later, he was
dead,
killed
by a device exploding beneath his personnel carrier. Mourning his death,
she
buried herself in schoolwork until graduation.
Rachael’s
present position as the Professor’s assistant required her to accompany
him
through the barren lands of the Middle East and North Africa. The job
not
only entailed personal hardship but also the dangers always present in
the
politically
explosive environment. Americans and Jews weren’t the most popular
people
in this part of the world.
That
evening she learned only the bare bone-dry details about her employer’s
personal
life. She wondered why he couldn’t loosen up—show a more compassionate
side.
Perhaps the desire to scratch the surface and see what lay beneath
attracted
her to this introvert.
Rachael
heard the Professor announce it was time to turn in. Their plane was
leaving
at noon the next day. As they stood up from the table, he leaned over
and
kissed
her, then turned and walked in the direction of his tent.
Bill
was in turmoil. Why did I kiss her, he thought. Perhaps the wine clouded
my
judgment. He didn’t want to get close with Rachael or any other woman.
He
still
hurt inside thinking of Mary Belle, his college sweetheart, whom he
married
the
summer before entering graduate school. At Harvard, a student from a
wealthy
New England family caught her attention. Buried up to his eyeballs in
pursuing
an advanced degree, he didn’t realize she was having an affair until the
day
she moved out.
CHAPTER
2
After
loading the luggage in the jeep, Imnah drove Bill and Rachael through
the
crowded
bazaar toward the small airport without incident. The servant had been
so
helpful during their stay, Bill knew he would miss him as he watched
the man
glide
the vehicle with ease through the traffic mingled with people and
livestock.
He
felt fortunate that Imnah wandered into their camp the day after the
person
who
had originally been recommended as a guide by the local authorities
died in
On the way to the airport, Imnah, a man who had only spoken before in a
local
dialect, asked in broken English if he could join the expedition to
Enoch.
This
man is more than the illiterate peasant he pretended to be, Bill
thought. Had he
eavesdropped
on my conversation with Rachael? Suspicions aroused, Bill
remained
noncommittal about the request.
Their twin-engine plane arrived several hours late at the dirt landing
strip that
passed
as an airport. The plane finally lifted off to Cairo where they would
take
connecting
flights, Bill to the States, while Rachael would travel to Jerusalem.
Later,
she would join the Professor for a meeting with Walter Henley, an
antiquity
dealer
in New York City.
The possibility of obtaining funds from the university to finance an
expedition
to
find Enoch was nil, so Bill had gone outside his familiar academic
circles. An
acquaintance
had placed him in contact with Henley. His appointment to meet
with
the man in a few weeks could not have come at a more opportune time. The
discovery
of the map should enhance his chance of getting approval for an
expedition.
***
Henley met with the investors in the backroom of his antiquity store to
discuss
the
request for funding from various individuals. He formed this group ten
years
ago. It proved to be profitable to all concerned and provided a cover
for his
other
activities. Many times skirting the law, the group used Henley's store
and
business
connections to fence artifacts from around the world.
"So what?s the situation on this biblical archaeologist?" asked Raymond
Jones, a multimillionaire from Chicago.
"I?m meeting with him next week," Henley answered.
"How much is he asking us to contribute to his project?" Raymond
inquired, intent on pursuing the issue.
"The last conversation I had with him, he indicated five hundred
thousand."
"Is anyone else going to share in the cost of this expedition?" asked
Ron
Moses,
a banker from San Francisco.
"I don't think our Bible scholar can find anyone who will offer him
financial
support
for what many will see as a hair-brained fantasy."
"Why are we interested?" asked Sam Mendel, seated at the far end of the
table.
"I have a person working with this scholar who keeps me informed. I can
tell
you,
Professor Weston?s extensive research has finally paid off. He has it."
"Has what?" Raymond asked.
"The map."
"What map?" asked Robert Osborne, an antique dealer from New Orleans.
"A map which shows the exact location of the City of Enoch; the first
city on
earth
built by man."
"If he locates it, what does he expect to find?" Mendel asked.
"I don't know what items of value might be there. It's a gamble, but
since
we'll
only chip in a hundred thousand apiece, it's a sum we can all easily
afford to
lose.
So, do I have your commitment?"
The men nodded in agreement.
***
Rachael had solitude at last on the long flight to New York. She had
just spent
two
weeks with her family in Jerusalem and visited Jerome's grave. They
begged
her
to stay longer, but she wanted to be at the meeting. If the funds were
not
forthcoming,
she would be out of a job. There weren't many positions for her
line
of expertise outside of teaching. Her mind wandered back to the hours
spent
over
the last year translating ancient texts. She had enjoyed the challenge
and the
professor
had become dependent on her expertise. She greatly admired the man
professionally.
Although he had only limited knowledge in the area of dead languages,
he
was an impressive biblical scholar.
***
Bill waited for Rachael at the coffee shop next door to his hotel,
Acropolis, a
new
architectural marvel located near the site where the twin towers once
stood.
He
looked down at his watch. Rachael should be here soon, he thought.
Otherwise,
he
would have to go to the meeting without her. He was surprised how much
he
missed
her, the short time they were apart. Perhaps it was because they had
been
constant
companions since he hired her; deep down he knew it was more.
"Sorry I'm running late," Rachael said, carrying a wet umbrella as she
approached
his table. "Didn't think I'd ever get a taxi this morning. With the bad
weather,
I guess everyone is trying to catch a cab."
"You look like you got drenched from the blowing rain. Sit down and
have a
cup
of hot coffee. It'll shake off the chill of this air conditioning."
"Do we have time?"
"Yes. Henley's place is only four blocks away. I arranged with the
hotel for
transportation
when the weather turned nasty."
On the way over, Bill couldn't help but notice how the stylish outfit
Rachael
was
wearing, damp from the rain, clung to her body as she sat across from
him in
the
hotel limousine. The skirt rose slightly above her knees, revealing a
pair of
lovely
legs hidden from his view for the past year.
Entering the shop, they were directed down a corridor by an employee who
said
Mr. Henley expected them. In the back was a spacious room dominated by a
large
conference table. Their prospective financier, a short round man with a
deep
brown complexion, dressed in an expensive suit, sat at the far end
smoking a
cigar.
Rising from his chair, the man crossed the room to greet them. In
contrast
to
his clothes, he had on cheap cologne, which reeked. The scent reached
them
while
he was still several feet away.
"Good morning, Dr. Weston." he said, grabbing Bill's hand in a firm
handshake.
Then turning to Rachael, he introduced himself while his eyes stripped
her.
She
did not like this man. He had an aura of evil about him.
When they took their seats, Henley wasted no time in getting to the
heart of
the
matter.
"You want five hundred thousand dollars of my investors' money to fund
an
expedition.
Tell me why I should give it to you."
"Since this is the first time we've met, I'd like to tell you in detail
about my
research,
but I don't know how much time you will allow me to present my
information."
"You have one hour to get my interest. I can tell you the investors
gave me
complete
authority to make a decision. So give it your best shot."
Bill had been up most of the night preparing. He swallowed hard.
"The Bible recounts God's creation of Adam and Eve recognized by the
three
great
religions of the world: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. According to
biblical
accounts,
their firstborn, Cain, killed his brother, Abel. Afterward he fled to
the
Land of Nod where he took a wife. The firstborn of this relationship was
named
Enoch. In honor of this child, Cain built the first city in recorded
history
and
named it after his son. That is all the scriptures contain. There are,
however,
other
ancient texts that tell us more. My assistant and I have traveled
throughout
the
Middle East and to Africa studying old manuscripts, clay tablets, and
tracing
down
local legends. Not only have we found the Land of Nod, but we also know
where
the site of Enoch is located. If successful, our expedition will unlock
the
history
of man's early ancestors. It will allow us to fill in the blank pages
of the
origins
of all civilizations that followed."
Then Bill focused on where he thought the investors interest lay.
"According to an ancient legend, the first accumulation of wealth by
man was
in
Enoch. The story speaks of gold and diamonds in large quantities buried
by a
catastrophe."
"What kind of catastrophe?"
"It's unclear. It could have been an earthquake or maybe a volcanic
explosion.
Perhaps
it was man-made. Whatever happened, Enoch disappeared from history.
The
people were killed or dispersed by the calamity."
"Then the riches must still be there," Henley said.
"I'm afraid we won't know the answer until we dig."
Henley tried to appear attentive, although he already was aware of this
information
and
more. He knew he would approve the funds and had known it for a
long
time.
"Rachael, are you going on the expedition?"
"Why yes, Mr. Henley, I'll be assisting Dr. Weston."
"In that case I'll approve the funds," he said, with a smile that
showed the gold
fillings
in his teeth.
"Professor, if you'll send me a detailed account of your expected
expenses, I'll
have
my accountant go over them and work out a method of periodic payments
to
your bank account as those needs arise."
"I can assure you the money will be carefully spent."
Chuckling, Henley said, "I have no doubt that my accountant will make
sure
of
that. Now, let me walk you to the door."
At the front, Henley handed a white envelope to Bill.
"Just a little advance to cover your initial expenses."
Opening it, Bill saw a cashier's check for fifty thousand dollars.
"This means we can get started."
"Don't forget, my lawyer is preparing the terms of the contract that we
discussed
over
the phone last week. He will be forwarding the document to you. We
will
expect fifty percent of any gems, gold and artifacts which you are
entitled to
after
the Iranian government gets its share."
As they were walking out of the door, Henley leaned over and whispered
in
Rachael's
ear.
"We need to get together next week for dinner if you're still in town.
I'd love
to
talk ancient languages with you. It's always been a subject of great
interest to
me."
Somewhat stunned, Rachael was at a loss for words. She did her best to
give
him
a pleasant smile and without answering, stepped onto the street.
"I heard Henley," Bill said when they were in the limousine.
"I don't have a good feeling about that man..."
"Are you going to have dinner with him next week?"
"Not unless you order me to. Of course, I don't want to jeopardize our
funding."
"Once we get this check deposited, I can afford to send you back to
Israel to
finish
our research before the expedition. That way you won't have to make
excuses
to avoid Henley."
A smile came over Rachael's face. "That would be a relief."
On the way back to the hotel she said, "I need to talk to you about
someone I
recently
met in Jerusalem, who might be interested in helping us on our project."
She
told him about Irad Lamech, a graduate student at Hebrew University in
Jerusalem
whom Rachael's brothers had introduced her to. The two had
quickly
discovered a common interest - dead languages. Rachael knew Irad was
attracted
to her in other than a professional way; the attraction wasn't mutual.
CHAPTER
3
Rachael
was back in Jerusalem only a few days before she convinced Irad to
obtain
a leave of absence to assume a position with the expedition. Impressed
with
his knowledge of the ancient world from their previous conversations,
she
believed
he would be a great asset in making the dig a success.
The professor had sent her back to track down a lead obtained earlier.
An artifact
important
to their research might be available in a small village lying in a
place
known as the Wilderness of Judaea.
Because of numerous military roadblocks, it was a long trip to the
outskirts of
the
village. One officer encouraged Irad and Rachael to turn back because
of fundamentalist
Muslim
attacks in the nearby countryside. It was dark by the time
they
arrived. Knowing nothing could be accomplished that evening, they set
up a
tent
on a hill near the village and settled in for the night. The next
morning they
were
up before sunrise. Sitting near the campfire Irad built, Rachael
decided it
was
time to give him more details. She reached into her backpack and pulled
out
a
sketch of the map found in Timbuktu.
"Irad," she said. "The professor has given me permission to show this
to you."
Rachael moved closer to him so they could both view the sketch. She
observed
Irad
as he studied it. He was taller than most men. She had to look up to
see his
face
and couldn't help but notice how incredibly attractive he was. Why is
he still
unattached,
she wondered. Maybe he's like the professor, putting all of his energy
into
a career. Of course, to an outsider she might also appear that way, but
she
knew
better.
Irad continued to study the map as Rachael talked about the professor's
project.
She described what they had uncovered concerning the location of the
Land
of Nod, and she explained that the first step in the process was to
locate the Garden
of
Eden.
"Eden lay north of four great rivers that converged at the Persian
Gulf?miles
inland
in ancient times from where it is located today," she said. "Two are
well
known,
the Tigris and the Euphrates, but the location of the others referred
to in
the
Bible as the Pishon and the Gihon have been lost in antiquity. The
professor
believes
ancient documents and new photographs from space, when examined
together,
provide crucial information about their location."
Pulling a geographic map from her backpack, she unfolded it and spread
the
document
on the ground.
"You see the river Gihon flowed through western Iran and today is called
Karun.
Experts have been on the wrong track trying to locate the Gihon. For a
long
time they believed it was the Nile because it flowed out of the land of
Cush,
which
is Ethiopia. The professor is convinced that the Gihon is the Karun
because
the Kassites, descendants of Cain, dwelt along its banks and called the
land
Kush. You can see why scholars were confused."
"What about the other missing river?"
"The Pishon, according to the Bible, flowed around the land of Havilah,
which
the professor feels is part of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait. Satellite
pictures
have
recently confirmed his theory. They show a concealed riverbed beneath
the
sands.
This river, now dried up because of climatic changes, once originated in
the
Hijaz Mountains near the city of Medina and flowed into the Persian Gulf
where
the other three joined it."
"So the Land of Nod lay east of Eden," Irad said. "And within its
boundaries,
Cain
built Enoch. If the map is authentic, it will confirm the professor's
theories."
The next morning when they entered the village, Irad and Rachael were
dressed
in clothing that blended well with those worn by the people of the
region.
Making
their way to a mud hut on the outskirts of a cluster of similarly built
homes,
Rachael knocked on the old wooden door that bore the address they were
seeking.
A young boy answered.
"We have come to see Shimar," she said in the local dialect that she
learned
from
her father. "Tell him Oreb has sent us."
Oreb, a friend of Bill's father, knew Shimar through family contacts.
The boy disappeared for a moment. When he returned, they were invited
in,
and
led to a room at the back of the hut. Inside on the dirt floor lay an
old man
on
a cot.
"Ismal," he said, directing his comments to the young boy who had
answered
the
door, "Get tea for our guests."
Motioning for them to have a seat on a rug beside the cot, he sat up
just as the
boy
brought in a wooden platter. On it were three cups of steaming hot tea
with
ginger.
"Oreb sent you?" he asked.
"Yes," Rachael said.
"What do you want?"
"We understand you have an old staff that came from Enoch."
"Well, what if I do?" asked the old man before launching into a
coughing episode,
which
eased when he drank some tea.
"We would like to buy it."
The old man thought for a moment. I promised my ancestors never to part
with
the
item. It has been handed down in my family for many generations. My
grandson,
Ismal,
and I are the last of the family line. I don?t have long to live. What
good
is the staff to me anyway? It is cursed. Maybe this instrument of the
devil
brought
on the calamity that has almost wiped out my family line.
Looking at Ismal standing in the corner, he knew the boy was penniless.
A few
gold
coins would keep his grandson from starving when he was gone.
"How much are you willing to pay?"
"We
need to see it first."
"Get it, Ismal."
When the boy returned, Irad and Rachael examined the staff. It was
eight feet
long,
most unusual for a staff to have such height. That, with its large
circumference,
made
it extremely heavy. The wood was of an unknown origin. Attached to
the
top was a golden knob. A serpent was engraved on the staff and a map
carved
into
its wood.
"How much do you want?"
As was the custom, the old man asked for more than he thought the buyer
was
willing
to pay. She was surprised at the demand. It was less than she had
expected.
Not wanting to offend him, she haggled until the price was lower. She
paid
in gold coins from a bag she carried hidden on her person.
"Can you give me the history of this staff?" Rachael asked.
"It belonged to the Nephilim at one time. My ancestor took it from the
descendants
of Cain at the battle of Enoch in the ancient days, and it has been in
our
family's possession since that time."
How strange for the man to use the term Nephilim, Rachael thought. Her
mind
raced back to Old Testament class. They were mentioned in Genesis, which
said
the sons of God mated with the daughters of men and produced these
giants.
"I always thought that was nothing but a myth," she said to Irad.
The old man began to have another coughing spasm, which even the hot tea
did
not seem to alleviate.
"Perhaps you could come back tomorrow," the young boy said.
"Yes. I'll be feeling better then," the old man said. "Come and see me
tomorrow,
and
I will tell you the legend of the Serpent."
"We'll be back to hear your story," Irad said.
Rachael was glad to be at the campsite. She would be even happier to
get back
to
Jerusalem where she knew the staff could be safely stored. If word got
out
about
the staff or the gold coins, their lives would be forfeited in this
sinkhole.
Irad
was kind enough to offer to protect the item that evening, but Rachael
didn?t
want it out of her sight. The excitement of the day and the discomfort
of
the
staff under the blanket kept her from sleeping most of the night. Irad
seemed
concerned.
She saw him sit up several times in his cot during the night and gaze
at
her. Just before daybreak, she finally dozed off to sleep.
The sound of vehicles passing on the road nearby awakened Rachael. She
stepped
out of the tent just in time to see an Israeli military convoy pass by
driving
toward
the village where the old man lived. Looking around, she realized that
Irad
wasn't there. For the next hour she worried that something might have
happened.
Then
she heard him call. She turned and saw him coming down a sand
dune
a few yards away.
"Where have you been?" she asked when he reached the tent.
Holding up two canteens he said, "When I got up this morning, I noticed
a
hole
in our water bag, so I went into the village to replenish our supply."
Rachael looked at the canvas bag attached to the side of the jeep and
saw it was
empty.
"It must have sprung a leak on the rough terrain getting here," she
said.
Handing her one of the canteens, Irad went over and added more wood to
the
Fire,
so he could cook breakfast. Later that morning they examined the staff
together.
"The inscription is unlike any of the dead languages I've studied,"
Irad said.
"Perhaps the infrared light at the university could enhance the
marking."
"I don't recognize it either. Maybe my father or one of his colleagues
might
have
a clue to its origin."
That afternoon the jeep's short wheelbase allowed it to travel along an
old
rocky
path, which Irad discovered that morning. The path took them around to
the
far side of the village and ended a few hundred yards from the old
man's mud
hut
where there was a disturbance taking place.
"I think it best if I go down alone," Irad said.
A few minutes later, he returned.
"We've got to get out of here. Shimar and Ismal have been killed, and
the villagers
are
blaming it on the Jews."
"A military patrol passed our tent this morning going toward the
village,"
Rachael
said.
Later that day on the road toward Jerusalem, they stopped for a
military roadblock.
The
officer in charge was the same one who had warned them not to go
into
the area.
While a private checked their identity cards, the officer said, "I see
you have
finished
your business down there."
"Were your troops in the village this morning?" Rachael asked.
"One of our units was there. Seems an old man and a boy were brutally
murdered.
Strange."
"What do you mean?" Rachael asked.
"The man had his tongue cut out and the seal of a serpent branded upon
his
forehead."
"And the boy?"
"Strangled."
CHAPTER
4
The
meeting with the Assassin that first week in July was short and to the
point.
"Imnah will be arriving in New York this weekend for a meeting with me
on
Monday.
I do not expect him to make that meeting. Is that understood?"
"Yes," said the assassin, who didn't anticipate any problem eliminating
the
drone.
After all, he was trained in the art of killing. In his profession
there was no
room
for error. A mistake could not only cost him a place in the hierarchy
but
also
his life.
When the assassin left, the man sat down at the table in his conference
room
and
lit a cigar, then reached over and picked up the letter he received
that morning
by
special dispatch. He slowly read the contents for the second time that
day.
The
secrets of the ages, lost even to us, are about to be uncovered, he
thought. It's
good
one of our own is now on the inside. That meant the drone, Imnah, was no
longer
needed. He served his purpose and could now be eliminated.
That same weekend, Bill was in New York City to see a colleague. Sam
Rison
was
known as the authority on the Nephilim and, in fact, he had written
several articles
on
them. That is why, when the call came from Rachael about the staff, he
contacted
him immediately.
Anxious to meet with Sam, he stepped outside the airport that Saturday
to
catch
a taxi. Was that Imnah getting into a cab across the street? He started
to
yell,
but before a sound had time to leave his lips, the door on the cab
closed, and
the
vehicle sped off. I must have been mistaken, he thought. After all,
what would
Imnah
be doing in New York?
Sam lived in a small apartment downtown. It was all the space he needed
after
his
wife died.
"Please be patient with me, Bill, if I seem somewhat long-winded. I
haven't
had
many visitors since my retirement. Some of what I am going to say is old
news.
Perhaps I can sprinkle it with enough new information to keep this from
being
a wasted trip."
"I've never had a conversation with you that didn't give me new
insight."
"The term Nephilim is often used interchangeably with the term giant.
The
term
literally means the fallen ones or those who came down. Other biblical
terms
used to describe them are Rephaim and Serpent. It would be intriguing to
ascertain
the origin of these creatures. The first mention of them is in Genesis.
Suddenly,
there appears a passage "the sons of God came down and, finding
the
daughters of men attractive, had intercourse with them". According to
the
scriptures,
children born of those relationships were not only giants but also
heroes
of the ancient world. Many theories have been espoused over the years on
the
meaning of those passages. One is that angels sent by God cohabitated
with
the
women of the earth. Another is that they were fallen angels. According
to the
most
recent interpretation by theologians, they are the descendants of Seth
who
called
themselves the Children of the Lord. As you know from the seminar
materials
I
sent, my research leads me to believe the various theories are off the
mark."
"I have read your articles and your theory certainly makes more sense
than the
others.
Tell me more about your idea that the Land of Nod was inhabited by
people
who
were large in stature."
"When Cain took a wife, legends outside the Holy Scriptures describe
the offspring
of
Cain as larger than Seth's descendants. The passage in the Bible, which
talks
about the Sons of God coming down, is in my opinion simply a geographic
matter.
I believe the Land of Nod, lying east of Eden, was situated on a higher
elevation.
Perhaps
in the Zagros Mountain chain. I have theorized that they came
down
from the mountains and mated with the inhabitants of the Babylonian
Plains
who were of normal size and perhaps Seth's descendants. Of course, those
scholars
who believe the flood of Noah's time covered the whole earth think the
Nephilim
drowned with everyone else. I don't prescribe to that logic because the
flood
was only a local catastrophe limited to the plains of Babylonia.
Besides,
there
are numerous references to them in the Bible after the flood."
"I agree. Logic supports a limited flood. So, the descendents of Cain,
which
would
include the Nephilim, may still exist today among us."
"Like I told you earlier, the Bible says exactly that. After the flood,
they are
mentioned
in Genesis, Numbers, Joshua and Samuel. However, my favorite source
on
that point is the passage contained in Deuteronomy where it describes
various
Nephilim,
including King OG, whose iron bed was thirteen and a half feet long
and
six feet wide."
"Their existence after the flood only strengthens your argument that it
was a
local
catastrophe," Bill said. "Let me give you some information that lends
even
more
support to your theory."
Bill told him about the staff Rachael purchased and the information she
learned
from its former owner.
"That's interesting, and if true, it goes a long way toward proving my
theory."
Bill
reached into his briefcase and withdrew sketches of Cain's staff.
***
It was Sunday morning when the assassin entered the lobby of the hotel.
Avoiding
the personnel at the desk, he went straight to the elevator and rode to
the
fourth floor. Locating Imnah's room, he put his ear to the door.
Hearing no
sound,
he inserted a master key into the lock. Opening the door slowly, he
peered
inside.
The sound of the shower running in the bathroom told him that his
quarry
was there. When the drone emerged, the assassin wrapped one arm firmly
around
his neck and with his hand pulled the head back until he heard the neck
snap.
Letting the limp body drop to the floor, he rummaged through the room to
give
it the appearance of a robbery and then quickly departed. Another
assignment
successfully
completed for The Society.
***
It was the second homicide scene Detective Thomas O'Conner had viewed
that
Monday, and it wasn't even noon yet. Just back from a two-week vacation,
he
had found a stack of paperwork waiting on his desk, and now it didn't
seem
like
he was going to get a chance to look at it.
"What do we have here, officer?" he asked upon entering the hotel room.
"It
looks like a robbery, detective," said the young man in his crisp new
uniform.
"I believe the man's neck is broken."
"Any identification?"
"Not a thing except a tattoo of a snake on his torso. His wallet is
missing and
the
other personal items have no trace of anything that gives a clue who
this victim
was
or where he came from."
"What about the hotel registration?"
"Personally made by a corporation, but surprisingly the payment was in
cash."
"The corporation should be easy to trace from the address on the
registration
book."
***
Tuesday morning on the way to catch a plane back to Charleston, Bill
picked
up
a newspaper from the coffee shop. Later, seated comfortably in first
class, he
read
the headlines. Finished, he began to browse the smaller articles to see
if anything
there
might be of interest. His eye caught a story on a murder at a hotel.
The
article described the deceased and commented that he had no
identification
on
him. The story had a small photograph of such poor quality that it was
barely
visible.
The police requested anyone who knew the victim to contact Detective
Thomas
O'Connor of the New York City Police Department.
Could it be Imnah, Bill wondered, staring at the picture? No, of course
not,
was
his immediate thought. But it wouldn't hurt to make a call.
***
Tuesday morning Dr. Benjamin Rabon was with his daughter in his study
examining
the staff. The inscription resembled the ancient writing in southern
Yemen,
the ancestral home of his people. But not close enough to those ancient
writings
for him to decipher.
"We need to contact John Elesbaan and arrange a time to meet with him,"
Dr.
Rabon
said. "He is an expert in this area."
"I want Professor Weston involved when we meet with John," Rachael said.
"In the meantime, we can take the staff to the university and examine
it under
the
infrared equipment to get a better view of the marking," Dr. Rabon said.
***
Thomas had never been to Charleston before. The view as he flew over the
Carolina
coastline was beautiful. From reading a book on the plane, he knew this
city
was established in 1670 and had the most preserved historic district on
the
east
coast. As the plane circled, he saw the gleaming white structures of
the Citadel,
a
famous military college founded in 1842. He planned to spend an extra
day
and
take a tour.
When Thomas first spoke to Dr. Weston, he thought it was just another
caller
with
useless information. However, his interest was piqued when, in response
to
the
photo faxed him, the professor replied with an affirmative
identification.
Thomas
knew it might lead to a suspect in the murder. He wanted to meet with
the
professor in person. He had learned from years of experience that the
best
way
to evaluate a witness or suspect was eye contact. The time of the
landing was
perfect
for the luncheon scheduled at noon.
The restaurant was on a side street near the locally famous Four
Corners of The
Law,
so named because federal, county, municipal, and church buildings were
erected
on its four corners. When he entered, the waiter led him to a secluded
area
in the back of the restaurant.
Bill saw the detective enter the room. His soft voice on the phone had
projected
an
image that could easily mislead one into thinking the person on the
other
end of the line was somewhat effeminate. Nothing could be further from
the
truth, Bill thought, as the man approached. The detective looked to be
in his
early
forties with the beginnings of a receding hairline. Bill could tell by
Thomas?
physical
appearance that he obviously spent time keeping his six-foot frame in
superb
shape.
"Thomas O'Conner, I presume," Bill said, as he rose from the table to
greet
his
guest. "I hope you had a good flight."
"It was a pleasant trip down. I?ve always wanted to visit your fair
city, though
not
under these circumstances. Let's talk business later. I don't want to
spoil the
delicious
meal I'm sure this restaurant has to offer."
An hour later, pushing the empty plate to the side, Thomas said, "Tell
me
everything
you know about this man called Imnah."
"Like I said on the telephone, there is little information I can give
you. The
first
week we were in Timbuktu, the person hired through the local authority
was
killed
in an automobile accident, or so an official informed us. The next day
this
small
man, Imnah, showed up at our campsite right after breakfast. He
indicated
he
was experienced as a guide and servant. So I hired him. He was handy to
have
around."
"What was his full name?"
"You know, he never said. Moreover, since he was paid in cash, I never
had a
reason
to ask. Imnah didn't talk about himself. Now that I look back, it does
seem
somewhat strange the way he took care of our needs without ever letting
us
know
anything about himself. It was almost like he was a mindless automaton."
"Is there anything else that drew your attention?"
"Yes."
"What's that?"
"The day we left Timbuktu, he asked if he could join our expedition.
And that
was
the first time he spoke English. It aroused my suspicion. I wondered at
the
time
if he had been eavesdropping on my conversations with my assistant."
"Expedition?"
"A project involving an archaeological dig in Iran."
"Who's your assistant?"
"Rachael Goldstein. She's in Israel now. She couldn't add anything to
what I
have
just told you."
"I have to ask you this. Why were you in New York, and where were you
the
morning
of the murder?"
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