Authors: Jon Saboe
Tags: #Inca, #Ancient Man, #Genesis, #OOPARTS, #Pyramids
Shem was taken aback. He tossed his pear core into the fire where it sputtered.
“The Creator has revealed…”
Peleg cut him off, angrily.
“I am familiar with many myths and legends in oral and written literature. Most claim to be ‘revealed’. And the sole purpose of that claim is to prohibit accountability on the part of the ‘revealer’!”
Shem said nothing, staring at Peleg, his mouth moving slightly but forming no words. The silent impasse stretched until Peleg almost felt sorry for his outburst. Eventually Shem lowered his head and spoke.
“Please forgive me,” he said slowly. “I have presumed a great deal of you.”
Peleg showed no response.
“You should never be expected to accept what I say, simply because I say it.”
Peleg gave him a slight nod.
“However,” Shem continued, “With your permission, may I recite the
Amar
, or declaration, which the
Creator
has revealed to us? I don’t suggest that you should accept its content, nor would I demand that you believe it comes from some supernatural source.”
Shem smiled gently before adding his final suggestion.
“You could simply add it to your collection of origin stories.”
Peleg nodded, surprised by Shem’s sudden docility.
Shem accepted his permission, closed his eyes, and tipped his head back.
Peleg was familiar with standard origin myth formulas: Start with broad, incredulous generalities; select some arbitrary mystical element like cosmic mud or shining vapors; personalize some natural forces with names and special abilities; and finally toss in some lightning, some earthquakes, and other sources of conflict. Suddenly stars, mountains, and oceans appear out of the swirling mix, and eventually the first humans appear, ready to challenge the aforementioned personalities. Add some intriguing drama and then declare that any one who questions the validity of the story will be punished—usually by the
same
personalities. In fact, he had composed some himself in his creative writing classes.
Shem was still sitting silently, his eyes closed.
Finally, he began.
“
In the beginning...
”
He stopped and opened his eyes.
“You must understand,” he said with a slight grin, “that I have never recited this in your language. There may be some pauses.”
Peleg nodded, exerting great self-control as he forced himself to
not
roll his eyes.
Shem closed his eyes and began again.
It was nothing like Peleg expected.
As Shem spoke, Peleg was stunned with what he heard. Shem’s recitation contained simple declarative statements with no attempt to impress or awe the listener. He spoke in short, matter-of-fact sentences, and succinctly presented the Creator’s steps as He formed the various realms of His creation—delivered in a concise, daily outline. There were no explosions or violent storms accompanying the creative acts. The Creator simply spoke, and the desired handiwork was simply
willed
into existence—from nothing!
It was unlike anything Peleg had ever heard. A listing of straightforward facts, occasionally followed by brief elaborations. If it wasn’t so fantastic, it would have been boring—a historical narrative, listing events and summarizing results.
Shem told of the first man, and the gift of volition bestowed upon him as he was formed in the Creator’s own image. The ability to make choices as he named and categorized other creations. The gift of a wife and a perfect environment.
Shem then spoke of a serpent who tested their volition. Peleg was reminded of
Viracocha
—and the leader of the
Nephilim
—as the serpent sought to undermine the Creator’s nature and deceive the new couple. Shem then told of their failure to believe the Creator, their willful defiant disobedience, their attempts to blame one another, and the ultimate, tragic consequences of their rebellion.
Death, pain, toil, and sorrow were explained, but in the midst of this agony, a remedy was also offered. Peleg felt a brief moment of inexplicable joy as he heard of the coming
Zeh-ra
—and how
He
would crush the head of the serpent!
This was the first time that Peleg had heard the promise of the coming Seed within the context of the surrounding narrative. Part of him wished that Shem had shared this earlier, but he had to admit that, prior to this night, he would have probably refused to listen.
Shem’s account chronicled the exile from their perfect garden, followed by the growth and expansion of the human family—highlighting important “firsts”. The first farmer, the first rancher, the first musician, the first metallurgist, and (in more graphic detail) the first murderer. Shem also mentioned the name, Aenoch, claiming that this man had somehow escaped death. Peleg had heard this name in a variety of legends, which chronicled Aenoch’s travels to the stars. Aenoch had returned to find that many decades had passed, and that his family and friends were much older—although his tour of the cosmos had taken him but a few weeks.
Shem’s recitation now turned to precise chronologies, where names and ages were presented clearly, and Peleg was intrigued to hear that many of the lifespans were consistent with those that Inanna ascribed to the super-beings of pre-Calamity time. But Shem was speaking of ordinary men—whose immortality had been cut down to mere centuries by their sentence of death.
Shem continued the genealogies, and Peleg did some quick mental calculations as the names and ages were recited. So far (in the narrative) more than fifteen hundred years had passed since the first man was formed.
Peleg was suddenly startled to hear Shem say his own name, “Shem”, as he was listing the three sons of Noah. He peered closely, but Shem’s face did not change or indicate that he was referring to himself.
With his eyes still closed, Shem then described the
Nephilim
as they sought to destroy the lineage of the promised
Zeh-ra
—and how the great crimes and disobedience of humanity provoked the Creator to declare that He would destroy the world with a great flood; and in so doing,
preserve
that lineage. But, as always, there was a way of escape as He instructed Noah to build an ark—a large box-shaped barge—to salvage a male and female representative of all life on the earth.
He was familiar with a similar myth; one in which the main character was named
Utnapishtim
, instead of Noah. In
that
story, an unspecified number of family members and craftsmen had somehow survived the flood in a ridiculous cube-shaped vessel seven stories tall! Noah’s vessel was much more seaworthy, and Peleg was surprised and impressed that it had the same stability and relative dimensions (thirty by five by three) as the
Urbat
.
The description of the Great Calamity was now complete, yet it, too, was succinct and free from exaggeration. It told of the total annihilation of anything that breathed, and the complete destruction of the world by water—from above and also from beneath the earth’s surface.
Mankind had begun anew—but in a much different world. For the first time in the recitation, Peleg thought he heard a real, personal sorrow, but Shem continued. He told how his family thanked the Creator for His salvation, and he also relayed the new covenant that the Creator gave to Noah. Peleg was reminded of Thaxad’s reaction to the rainbow that had greeted them at the mouth of the Great Western Sea when Shem declared that the rainbow was the Creator’s token of a new promise. A promise that the world would never again be destroyed—at least by a flood.
Shem’s recitation suddenly shifted to a personal anecdote about an embarrassing mishap his father had encountered when drunk with wine from his newly planted vineyard. And then he stopped suddenly, his eyes snapping open.
Shem took a deep breath and said, “The
Amar
is concluded.” He nodded.
Peleg was taken by surprise at the sudden ending.
“Why did you stop there?” he asked.
“That is all that the Creator wishes to include at this time,” was his answer.
“I was waiting for you to comment on the Great Awakening,” said Peleg, “or more of pre-calamity life; or even more about your own family.”
“There is a great deal more I
could
speak about,” said Shem, “Many additional details of personal history and exciting stories. However, I cannot add or take away from this revelation. It must remain exactly as the Creator has given it.”
Peleg sat in silence for a moment, listening to the fire as it slowly died. Something about this recitation had affected him deeply—much more than a previously unknown origins myth ought to. As he analyzed it, he had to admit one thing: Shem had certainly not made it up. It was nothing like the way Shem spoke. Shem used large confusing metaphors and lengthy sentences. This “
Amar
” seemed to value simplicity and accuracy above all else. He felt a pounding in his chest as if a weighty decision were pending; and that equally weighty consequences rode on the outcome of his decision.
He sensed something monumental occurring; a deep change within his very being, as if his mind were somehow being reorganized with new ways of thinking. It occurred to him that the Creator in Shem’s
Amar
brought forth His creation simply by speaking. If the words of the Creator were contained in this
Amar
, was it possible that they were instigating similar creative acts within him? Could simply listening to such words alter who he was as a person?
He took a deep breath and shook his head to clear it. The air was now quite cool as the late night settled in—and the smoke from the fire was all but gone. His brief moment of impressionability had passed.
He allowed himself a quick, introspective look. No. He was quite sure that nothing had changed.
“What else
could
you reveal about pre-Calamity life?” he asked quietly, trying to mask his insecurity from within. He began to realize that any information from before the flood—even something based in myth—might have some value should he meet with Inanna. Shem’s narrative might become a desperately needed bargaining tool.
Shem laughed warmly, fully returned from his recitative state.
“A great deal,” he began. “I could tell you of my childhood, and how I spent most of my life learning the engineering and architecture needed to help my father with the ark. You must realize, my father had been working on the ark for over twenty years before I was born. My earliest memories are of studying engineering and architecture. I then had to adapt my training to wood structures, since my instruction dealt with marble and limestone edifices.”
He shook his head in amusement, and then offered more options.
“Or I could tell you about the wars between the families, or the oppression at the hands of the
Nephilim
. I could tell you of technologies which would be far beyond your imagination, or describe a place that was so different from the one we inhabit now, that you would not even recognize it as the same world.”
Peleg listened with interest to Shem, but as exciting as all of these possibilities sounded to Peleg, the strange ending of the
Amar
had made him curious about something else. It suddenly struck Peleg that Shem was incredibly alone.
“What about your family?” he asked. “Your parents, your brothers, and their wives? Were any of them with you in Haganah?”
Immediately, Peleg regretted asking the question. A cloud of pain came over Shem’s face, lasting for several moments until Shem forcibly replaced it with a look of calm resignation. When he finally spoke, he stared into the distance, avoiding Peleg’s gaze. But tears began to fill his eyes; and the glow from the dying embers turned them into blood-red pools which threatened to overflow at any moment.
“My father,” he began hoarsely, “and his wife, Gaw-Boluen, live entirely by themselves far beyond the mountains to the northeast—far away from any other human settlements. They were unable to adjust to the new world and eventually severed all ties with it. I received news from them every few years by courier when I was in Haganah, but I know nothing of their current condition.”
He looked briefly at Peleg, blinked, and then continued.
“What brought the most pain to my family, however, was my brother Ham, who became angry and chose to defy the Creator. He refused to explore the new world, fearful of a second flood (refusing to believe the promise of the Creator) and eventually his grandson, Nimrod, established the city where you were born. His city was founded on defiance, and, although it was destroyed during the Time of Confusion, Nimrod survived, and now goes by the name of Sargon.”
Shem turned back to look directly at Peleg.
“His family and followers have done everything they can to undermine the will of the Creator and destroy the message of the coming
Zeh-ra
. We were attacked, enslaved, and ultimately forced to contribute to his city until the Time of Confusion allowed us to escape. My brother, Japheth and his family scattered even farther than mine, creating settlements far to the north.”
Shem looked away again.
“But there is a special hatred for me and my family, since we were chosen to be the line of the
Zeh-ra
. Even now, Sargon delights in making war on us, and dreams of a day when our lineage will be no more.”
Shem paused, as his gaze turned inward.
“My son, Arphaxad, was the first child born into the world after the Great Flood,” Shem said, eventually. “He lives with his family in another underground community to the north of Haganah.” He stopped, his voice softening.
“They tortured him in unspeakable ways before our escape during the Time of Confusion.”
Shem’s voice trailed off, and they both listened to the silence. The fire was almost gone, but a small sliver moon was just starting to rise, etching lines of silver light into Shem’s eyes. Peleg tried to fathom the grief which must reside deep within Shem.