Ark (26 page)

POWER AND GLORY

The rabbi’s answer perplexed Jim. He felt the need to press for more. “Do you have an Ephod with the plates of gold and, you know, the jewels?”

“They wouldn’t spring for the jewels,” answered Rabbi Levi in a strong New Jersey accent. “They made a breastplate and a headpiece, but it’s plain gold. And they left off the bells. The robes had little bells along the hem.”

The rabbi was then called aside by one of his group and they all headed toward Aaron’s studio.

Jim was hoping for a different answer. The rabbi hadn’t said it, but already the Army was cutting corners. Part of the plan was to have a breastplate and a headpiece made for the high priest. The breastplate, like most everything else in the Old Testament text, was described in detail. It was to be made of solid plates of gold and decorated with precious stones, each representing the twelve tribes of Israel. The headplate was to be made large enough to completely cover a man’s forehead and bore a Hebrew inscription that said, “I Am of God.”

Jim had forgotten the detail about the bells. God wanted bells on the hem of the high priest’s robes so he could tell it was Aaron approaching the “Holy of Holies”.

Now Jim was getting frightened. If the ark worked and, as the Bible says, God’s glory came upon the ark, how would anyone approach it without the appropriate garments? He didn’t say anything, since he was walking next to Gene and directly behind the General. If the rabbi didn’t object, then why should he?

Aaron and Marta watched the proceedings with detached interest. Like birds on a fence, they stayed near the door to the construction area. Jim and Gene followed the group into the studio.

Aaron held the door as everyone entered. The ark lay inside, in two pieces, on a pile of excelsior. No one seemed to be able to take their eyes off it. Everyone was transfixed by the beauty of the ark, glittering in the light just beyond the door.

Aaron had done a magnificent job with the cherubim. The engraving of the wings looked ancient, vaguely Egyptian in nature. The repeating lines of the feathers acted like glittering steps when they caught the light, and the backbone of each cherubim followed a wavy flow suggestive of hair blending into a flowing robe. The inner sides of the parabolic cherubim were polished smooth and featureless. This was something Jim had wondered about. Would the cherubim have been detailed on the inner surfaces? Whether by design or accident Aaron had made them as exactly as Jim hoped he would.

For the moment they found themselves stalled in the goldworking studio waiting for the archbishop to arrive. Jim decided to ask Aaron his question.

Aaron and Marta had followed the group inside and were having a quiet discussion when Jim approached them. “Jim,” Aaron said. “I guess our work is finished here, eh?”

Jim greeted Aaron with a handshake. “You did magnificent work. Inspired.”

Marta nodded and nudged Aaron in the ribs. “I told you. You are very gifted.”

Jim pointed at the ark. “She’s right, Aaron. When you started the work on it I wanted to ask about the inside of the cherubim. I’ve always pictured them as blank. I notice you chose to leave them that way too. Any particular reason you left them featureless?” Realizing that his question might have sounded like criticism Jim was ready to apologize, but friendliness showed plainly on Aaron’s face.

Aaron looked deeply into Jim’s eyes. “Above the Mercy Seat there is but one presence,” he said. “The faces of the cherubim are that of God.”

Marta seemed to be as surprised as Jim at Aaron’s reply. “You never told me that.”

Aaron blinked. “Told you what?” His benevolent smile persisted.

Aaron wasn’t making sense. Jim began to wonder if the stress of what the artisan had done was taking a toll on his mind.

Suddenly the studio door opened and Archbishop Frazetti entered with his entourage. The archbishop wore his full clerical robes. He even wore a miter and carried a censer that billowed fragrant smoke. When he saw the golden ark he genuflected and kissed his rosary before turning to greet the General.

“I think our archbishop has arrived,” said Jim.

“My oath,” said Marta. “He is, how do you Americans say it, loaded for bear?”

“Full metal jacket,” said Gene with a grin.

Aaron stared at the cleric with narrowing eyes.

#

The Levites stood some distance behind the ark, watching the archbishop as he spoke to the General. Some might have described Frazetti as more infamous than famous. He was the first archbishop to have a regular television talk show. It surprised Jim to see him in their midst. Could the man who lunched with Geraldo Rivera and advised CNN on the decisions of the Vatican be trusted with an operation as secret as Thunderbolt?

Gene clearly didn’t think so. He rolled his eyes as Archbishop Frazetti held out his arms to address everyone present, whirling like a dervish for a moment to allow cameras to focus. Then he began an impromptu speech.

No one denied Frazetti his moment in the spotlight, but the General soon seemed to lose patience as the archbishop spoke about the history of the ark and its symbolism as the earliest manifestation of Christ.

Jim’s ears perked up when he heard Frazetti admit to the secretive nature of Project Thunderbolt, and was amazed when Frazetti added that the Holy Father had sent his blessings.

“Does that mean that the Pope knows about this?” Jim whispered to Gene.

“No doubt.”

At the conclusion of his speech the archbishop went over to the General with his hand extended. “Larry, Larry, Larry,” he said, “so glad to meet you. I’ve just come from Washington. Have I missed anything?”

General Wilcox was plainly stunned by the archbishop’s flamboyant arrival. He said something to the archbishop, then both men went into an adjacent room.

When they came out a short time later the General was red-faced and the archbishop was no longer smiling. He quietly ordered his entourage out of the workshop.

“I have a feeling the General gave Frazetti a little orientation,” said Gene with a chuckle.

Jim laughed. “I bet the General was REAL pleased to be called Larry!”

John Wilcox came over to where Jim and Gene watched the proceedings. “Did you hear that? Shit, even my mother didn’t call him Larry. Where does he get off acting like that?”

“Your dad didn’t seem too pleased with Frazetti, did he?” Gene was still grinning.

The General was now talking to the Levites and seemed unperturbed by his brief confrontation with the archbishop. Soon the Levite group moved toward the ark.

Jim heard an odd noise and turned to see a large bleating ram being led by a handler toward the door to the cavern. He looked at Gene questioningly.

“Blood sacrifice?”

Marta and Aaron were nearest the ram as it entered the room. She seemed enthralled with the animal, leaning down to pet it as it walked past her. Aaron whispered something to her. “No! You can’t do that,” she protested.

Everyone ignored her. The General, the rabbi and his group followed the sheep out the door.

Marta broke into tears. No one had announced that a blood sacrifice would be necessary before they could finish assembling the Tabernacle, but when Jim thought about it he concluded that it was probably a good thing that they were following the ancient rituals as closely as possible. The altar outside the Tent of Meeting had been fired up. All that they had lacked was blood to anoint the ark and meat to burn as an offering.

“Is that necessary?” asked John when Gene told him why the ram was there.

Gene shrugged. “By the book.”

Marta sat down on a stool and Aaron tried to console her. Jim heard Aaron say, “I know it seems barbaric, but if we don’t follow the rules who’s to say what might happen?”

Marta was unmoved. With tears streaming from her eyes she looked at Gene and Jim. “Can’t you stop this?”

“I’m not so sure that would be a good idea,” Gene said coldly. Then he turned to follow the procession into the staging area. Jim followed along without comment. Inwardly he agreed with Gene but wished he didn’t. As they went through the door and Marta was safely out of earshot, Jim whispered, “Why so harsh with her, Gene?”

“I hate those bleeding heart veggies. You’d swear we were killing her kid.”

“I donno, Gene. Maybe hers is the right attitude. Maybe it’s time to stop killing things.”

“Oh, Christ,” said Gene, “not you too.”

“I just think tenderness in any form is a good thing and should be cultivated, not put down.”

“Fine. Just don’t go soft on me while we’re eating steak. I once had an Indian do a whole number on me at a restaurant. I was having the surf ‘n turf special, just filled my plate and about to dig in, when this damned swami starts a diatribe against meat. What a rude bastard.”

“Well, that is rude,” said Jim, “but it’s not a crime.”

“It is when you’re sitting down to a delicious two inch thick sirloin!”

Jim sighed. “I guess.” He followed Gene through the door to the cavern. The idea of watching a ritual slaughter offended him, but he remembered that the General was adamant about Jim’s observing the entire operation.

The ram had been led into the courtyard where one of the five Levites waited while the rest went back to get the ark. All of them were wearing rabbinical robes, and the high priest, Rabbi Levi, walked before them swinging an incense burner. A few minutes later they appeared carrying the ark. They carried it with the poles resting on their shoulders and were having difficulty keeping it steady. One of them made a comment and they stopped. The rabbi suggested they carry it in the down position; arms down at their sides. That proved to be a much more stable situation, and they continued into the courtyard.

“That was interesting,” said Jim. “I’ve always wondered how the thing might be carried.”

Gene nodded. “Most references depict the ark being carried on the shoulder. Not today.”

“I imagine that it depends on how high off the ground they needed it. If they were walking through bushes the down position wouldn’t work,” said Jim, “but if they had to run with it the ‘up’ position, that would invite disaster.”

“Carrying it in a cart, drawn by oxen, invited disaster,” suggested Gene. “The Bible says that King David ordered it carried that way and that’s when it nearly tipped over. A man rescued it, but touching it cost him his life.”

Gene’s biblical reference brought them back to the gravity of what they were witnessing.

The ark was carried in a solemn procession to a place near the bronze altar, about thirty feet from the opening of the Tabernacle. Behind the Levites walked Archbishop Frazetti and his attendants. After them came the rest of the group: Aaron, John, General Wilcox, Gene and Jim. Marta was missing from the group.

Rabbi Levi chanted in Hebrew while he and the archbishop swung incense burners. Jim had heard someone mention that the two men had chosen the same brand of incense, and judging by its aroma that seemed to be true.

Frazetti walked a few paces behind the rabbi. His demeanor was sullen, and Jim wondered if that was from piety or rejection. No one knew what the General had said to the archbishop, but it was clear that if he’d come to Los Alamos to head up the show, his expectations had been shattered. Only one person was running Thunderbolt and that man was General Lawrence Wilcox.

The killing of the ram was much quicker than Jim expected. He saw a blade for a moment, then the ram fell dead. Under its bleeding throat one of the Levites held a small laver to collect its blood. When he’d collected all that it would hold the man lifted it carefully and gave it to Rabbi Levi.

Continuing his prayers, the rabbi splashed some blood on the Mercy Seat of the ark, then he poured the rest all around the base of the Altar of Burnt Offerings.

One of the Levites stoked up the fires in the bronze altar and the ram was put on top. Immediately the ram’s wool ignited and thick smoke soon began to rise toward the ceiling. Jim’s first thought was that the cavern would fill with smoke, but a large fan started to turn in a recess in the ceiling directly above the altar.

He recalled that the Bible said that the scent of the burnt offering was “pleasing to the Lord,” but he wondered if there would be any odor left when the fumes reached the surface. He glanced around and noticed that a few people seemed to have the same concern. But when the smoke disappeared their attention returned to the Levites.

Finally the moment of truth was upon them. The Levites picked up the ark by its poles and took it through the opened coverings at the front of the Tabernacle.

From his vantage point at the entrance to the courtyard Jim could see into the Tabernacle. The Levites and the ark they carried were lit only by the candles of the menorah, so it was hard for Jim to see past the ark, but he could see that the veil that hid the Holy of Holies from view had been drawn back to allow their passage.

After carefully setting down the ark on the bare ground inside the Holy of Holies, the Levites made a hasty retreat. They closed the curtain after they left.

Then, presumably following the instruction described in Exodus, the rabbi returned to his place before the curtains that hid the ark and knelt down to pray. The Levites then joined everyone gathered in the courtyard.

Except for the crackling of the burnt offering and the low hum of the overhead fans the cavern grew quiet.

#

Time seemed to stand still.

Everyone watched the Tabernacle, but nothing appeared to happen. After five minutes had passed Rabbi Levi emerged from the Tabernacle, sweating in his heavy robes.

Jim glanced at General Wilcox and was surprised to see that the General was looking directly at him. He raised his eyebrows when he caught Jim’s eye. Jim shrugged his shoulders. General Wilcox glanced back at the Rabbi then walked over to Jim.

“How’re you doing, Jim?” The General had his head back, scrutinizing Jim’s face through his bifocals.

“I’m fine, General. How about you? I noticed you calmed down the archbishop handily.”

The General smiled. Speaking softly, he said, “Piece of cake,” but his face grew stern again as he looked back at the Tabernacle. “Are you getting anything? Any ... feelings?”