The Omega Scroll (28 page)

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Authors: Adrian D'Hage

BOOK: The Omega Scroll
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‘Did you get the tremor here?’ he shouted, accelerating out of the cul-de-sac.

‘It frightened me a little. Is there much damage?’

‘Only minor. We get them here every few years although this one was a little bigger. It registered six on the Richter scale and the epicentre was near the Dead Sea but there’s not much out there so I guess we’re lucky.’

For the second time in two days Allegra maintained a survival grip on the dashboard as David roared across greater Jerusalem, weaving in and out between the buses and
sheruts
and anything else that stood in his way.

‘You don’t see the need for a horn?’ she asked innocently, as another pedestrian leapt back to the safety of a streetside store.

‘No point. They can hear us coming a mile off.’

Allegra raised her eyebrows but David studiously ignored her. Inwardly she smiled. There was clearly quite a lot of the ‘little boy’ in David Kaufmann, she thought, something that made her warm to him even more.

‘Welcome to the Rockefeller.’ Monsignor Derek Lonergan extended a sweaty hand to David and then to Allegra. His hand felt like a fat, wet fish. Allegra smiled politely and looked at David with a ‘you should have warned me’ look as they followed the Vatican’s man into his office. Derek Lonergan’s face was flushed and a few long strands of reddish hair waved defiantly from his pink scalp. His beard hadn’t been trimmed for a very long time and his breath smelt of whisky. The cord on his cassock disappeared under the folds of his belly. David grinned as he saw Allegra struggling to keep a straight face.

‘The Director sends his apologies but he’s asked me to brief you on his behalf,’ Lonergan said, as he cleared away the piles of papers from two old chairs and levered his ample rear onto the front of his desk, giving Allegra a glimpse of a flabby white leg as he swung it to and fro.

‘The Dead Sea Scrolls is both a very difficult field, and quite a simple one,’ Monsignor Lonergan began pompously. ‘It is simple in that a great deal of hype has been written about what might be in the scrolls. In reality, they contain nothing of startling interest. Biblical scrolls that contain information already available to us in the Old Testament and with very little variance from the scriptures. Most interesting, but perfectly innocuous, and they add very little to the knowledge we already have of the peaceful reclusive Essenes who chose to live in isolation in Qumran. On the other hand,’ he said, looking down at Allegra, ‘putting the fragments together and reaching these conclusions by deciphering the ancient script is a job that requires a considerable amount of expertise.’

‘What about the date of the scrolls, Monsignor,’ David asked, underwhelmed by Lonergan’s pomposity. ‘I see that some scholars have argued that they are more closely linked to the time of Christ than first thought?’

‘You may call them scholars, Sir. I most certainly do not. There is not a shadow of doubt that all of the fragments, or at least those we have had the time to examine, are from a pre-Christian era. No doubt whatsoever.’

It was a critical slip and David jumped on it.

‘So there are other fragments you have not yet examined.’

For a moment Derek Lonergan looked as if he had suddenly become very constipated. His face went crimson and he blinked several times before answering, his eyes bulging like those of a large cod.

‘A very small number are still in the vault,’ he replied dismissively. ‘From a cursory translation they appear to be copies of one or two of the minor books of the Old Testament.’

‘And the dating of those?’ Allegra asked.

‘That has yet to be determined but given the overwhelming evidence that we have obtained from the fragments already analysed I have no doubt they will also date between 200 and 100
BC
.’

‘Does the analysis include carbon dating, Monsignor?’ Allegra asked with an almost nonchalant look on her face.

Constipation set in again. ‘I need hardly remind you, Dr Bassetti, that these scrolls are priceless. We are not about to chop them up to provide samples for chemists. The linen they were wrapped in has already been subjected to that type of analysis but,’ he said, pausing for emphasis, ‘when you have spent as many years as I have in this field you will come to realise that there are many other methods of dating that are just as accurate, if not more so. The coins found at Qumran for a start, not to mention palaeography.’

‘Palaeography?’

‘The science of the comparative study of ancient calligraphy or more simply, changes evident in the evolution of handwriting that can be dated according to style,’ Lonergan said patronisingly, as if Allegra was a particularly thick school student.

‘I know what palaeography is, Monsignor,’ Allegra retaliated evenly. ‘It’s just that in my experience using palaeography to obtain accurate dates is, at best, somewhat tenuous?’ Allegra’s smile infuriated Lonergan.

‘When you
have
some experience, Dr Bassetti, perhaps we might discuss the issue,’ he spat back, making no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice. ‘Now, if you will both follow me, I will give you a tour of the museum.’

‘Nice arse,’ David whispered as they followed the waddling off-white cassock down the corridor that led to the Scrollery. Allegra struggled to hold back a giggle.

The Scrollery was a long rectangular room with three rows of trestle tables running along almost its entire length. On top of these, dozens of thick square sheets of glass provided the only protection for the thousands of scroll fragments that had been assembled by the small international team dominated by Vatican scholars.

‘This,’ Lonergan announced unnecessarily, ‘is the Scrollery. Please don’t touch any of the glass covers. As you can see protestations of secrecy are entirely unfounded. Any member of the international team is free to move around the Scrollery and observe what other members are doing.’

David refrained from commenting. Since there was no one actually in the Scrollery, ‘doing’ seemed a moot point. Both David and Allegra were somewhat bemused to find that for reasons best known to himself, Lonergan gave them a detailed tour of the administration areas; room after room of filing cabinets and computers. Finally they reached the basement area that housed the photographic dark rooms.

‘Is that the vault?’ David asked innocuously, as they passed the very same heavy steel doors he had come across during the 1967 Six Day War.

‘Only the Director has the combination I’m afraid,’ Lonergan lied easily, not even breaking the rhythm of his waddle.

‘The fragments in the vault that have yet to be analysed. Perhaps we may be able to assist you in that area?’ David suggested.

‘Out of the question,’ Lonergan replied emphatically. ‘They have already been assigned. And,’ he said meaningfully, ‘the suggestion you might be attached to the Rockefeller has yet to be approved. Whilst we congratulate you both, most of the work of translation has already been done, and we were somewhat surprised when the Department of Antiquities saw fit to put more resources into a field that is already fully allocated.’ The use of the royal ‘we’ seemed to underline the ‘them’ and ‘us’ approach that David had predicted.

‘Have you any idea when approval might be forthcoming?’ David persisted, as they arrived back at Lonergan’s office.

‘That will be up to the Director,’ Lonergan replied vaguely. ‘Now, I’m afraid you will have to excuse me. I have another appointment,’ he said, looking at his watch. Across at the American Colony Hotel Abdullah was about to open the Cellar Bar.

‘What do you think of our man Lonergan?’ David asked as he and Allegra climbed back into Onslow.

‘I thought if I saw another filing cabinet I’d scream. Are the academics here all like that?’ Allegra asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

‘In the pompous fart stakes he probably tops the list but I think we’ve just been given a taste of how far they will go to prevent us seeing anything of value in the Rockefeller.’

‘He wasn’t too keen to let you get into the vaults,’ Allegra ventured.

‘You noticed. Makes me wonder what’s in them. I thought he was going to give birth there for a while, especially when he let slip there were more fragments.’

‘You nearly brought me undone with your “nice arse” comment.’

David laughed. ‘It’s amazing what some people do to their bodies. How would you like to get into bed with that lot? You’d have to go looking for it,’ he said, trying to keep a straight face.

‘Ugh,’ Allegra shuddered. ‘What an awful thought!’

David found a place to park Onslow not far from the New Gate and they walked towards the Old City Walls. Allegra’s faith, or at least the Catholic form of it, was now only a distant memory, but like most people who visit Jerusalem for the very first time, Allegra looked around with a certain amount of awe as she walked on the very same cobblestones that Christ and his disciples, Pontius Pilate, King David and a host of others had walked on so many years ago. David and Allegra paused for a moment inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre that covered Christ’s tomb. Then they walked on towards the eastern end of David Street and the Central Souk; three parallel streets covered with stone arches that dated back to the Crusaders. Allegra soaked up the atmosphere as they wandered into Souk el-Lakhamin, the butchers’ market, where freshly slaughtered meat and chickens were hanging on big hooks in front of white tiled alcoves, a scene that looked like it had not changed for hundreds of years. Further on in Souk el-Attarin and el-Khawaiat, Arabs had crammed their wares into tiny stone Crusader vaults and were bent over dirty blue and green plastic buckets, full to overflowing with green and black olives. Nutmeg, ground peppers, cumin seeds and a hundred other spices were piled in wooden boxes or wrapped in plastic. Oranges from Jaffa, together with eggplants, custard apples, tomatoes, beetroot, cabbages and a myriad of other fruit and vegetables tumbled onto the smooth stone pavement. They walked past a corner bakery where sweet breads and pastries were piled on wooden trays.

‘The history of this city is amazing,’ Allegra said. ‘I can hardly believe I’m walking around here.’

‘One of the great cities of the world,’ David agreed. ‘The only city in the world where the three great monotheistic faiths of Judaism, Christianity and Islam meet.’

Jerusalem. It was one of the great sticking points of the Middle East but one of the keys to any solution to the Palestinian–Israeli problem. Sacred to the Jews, the place where King David had thrown the Jebusites out of an otherwise inconsequential city a thousand years before Christ, declaring it to be the Jewish capital. Sacred to the Christians, the place where their Saviour had been crucified and buried. Sacred to the Muslims, the place where Muhammad had ascended to heaven from Haram al-Sharif, the Dome of the Rock.

Three great religions, all competing fiercely with one another, all with the same God, Allegra mused, as they made their way back to Onslow.

The Shrine of the Book, part of the Israel Museum, was to the west of the Old City and not far from the National Library and the Knesset. It had been built in 1965, specifically to house the Dead Sea Scrolls that were held by the Israeli Government. The building had a unique appearance influenced by the scrolls themselves. The roof was a white dome in the shape of one of the lids of the jars in which the scrolls had been found. At the entrance, a black granite wall had been erected, the contrast of black and white a reference to the War Scroll and its description of a forty-year titanic struggle between good and evil that civilisation had yet to witness – a struggle between ‘the Sons of Light’ and ‘the Sons of Darkness’. A struggle that would herald the return of the Messiah.

David bounded into the entrance vestibule with Allegra at his side.

‘Good evening, Yitzhak,’ he said, addressing the man at the security desk and flashing one of several ID cards he kept on a chain around his neck.

‘Go on through, Dr Kaufmann, Professor Kaufmann is about to begin. Welcome to Israel, Dr Bassetti.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, a little surprised that the guard knew who she was.

‘Do you know everyone in Israel by their first name,’ she demanded when they were through the magnetometer.

‘Only the important ones. The security guards and the typing pool,’ David said with a laugh, and led her into a long, subtly lit passage way.

‘This is a reconstruction of the caves. They depict the Essene community and the area around Qumran where the scrolls were discovered. They were a very advanced civilisation,’ he said, pointing to the orrery, a bronze model of the solar system. In the middle, a large bronze ball spinning on top of an iron rod represented the sun. Around it, the planets of the solar system were depicted by smaller bronze balls that were spinning and moving around the larger sun in elliptical orbits.

‘There are ten planets in this model,’ Allegra observed. ‘A very recent discovery.’

‘Interesting, isn’t it.’

In 1999 two teams of scientists – one at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette and one at the Open University in the United Kingdom – reported that the orbits of the most distant comets in the icy wastes of the solar system were inexplicably clumping together into highly elliptical orbits, suggesting the influence of an unknown planet. Both teams had put the possible tenth planet at three trillion miles out.

‘If this model was to scale,’ David continued, ‘and our farthest known planet Pluto was placed a metre from the sun, the tenth planet would need to be positioned a kilometre away.’

‘Which explains why none of our telescopes have been able to pick it up,’ Allegra reflected. ‘The Essenes couldn’t have known that?’

‘No, although I think there is probably more to that community than we first thought. The model is based on a diagram that was unearthed from the Qumran library. They certainly had a strong interest in astronomy,’ David said, indicating an ancient telescope in the display case.

‘I thought the telescope wasn’t invented until the seventeenth century?’

‘Galileo,’ David agreed, ‘but archaeologists have long been puzzled by crystal lenses that pre-date even this one. One is in the British Museum and was found in a tomb in Egypt and the other is dated at 7
BC
from Assyria. Both were mechanically ground to a complex mathematical formula. There is a theory that the Essenes discovered the telescope well before Galileo. The second Essene model is more interesting still,’ he said, moving past the orrery and the telescope.

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