Jassim was watching him carefully, leaning on his staff. “Kadesh has done you a great injustice. It is only right that you see.” He said something to one of the attending Korumak, a striking young man with flawless brown skin, as tall as Jassim himself. His son or nephew, perhaps? The youngster stepped forward and carefully, reverently moved the covering aside. Four of his friends joined him at each corner of the box. At Jassim’s signal they bent and gently opened the lid.
Dracup stepped back.
I’m not ready for this.
And then he realised, –I’ll never be ready for this.
He took a deep breath. “You moved him. He wasn’t in the ziggurat’s chamber. Was he?”
Jassim’s eyes reflected pinpricks of turquoise light. Dracup saw in their depths a wisdom that spanned the centuries. “You are correct. We transferred him to a safer location.”
The lid had been placed on the floor. Natasha looked up at him. “Can I see? I’ve seen him before.”
Dracup swallowed. “Of course, darling. Of course you can.”
And then he looked into the open sarcophagus.
For a moment all he could see was a shifting translucence, an indistinct outline, as if he were peering into a frozen pond in the depths of winter. Presently, the shape of a man began to form, the features swimming in and out of focus like some cleverly contrived trompe l’oeil.
“You have to wait, Daddy.” Natasha squeezed his hand. “Just keep looking.”
The veil lifted. Dracup caught his breath. There, in the box, lay the body of a man. He was naked, muscular, extraordinarily big. Dracup estimated at least three metres. The face was shockingly young, the eyes closed as if in sleep, the mouth set in an expression of profound peace. His hair was shoulder length, jet black with no trace of grey.
“I like him, Daddy. He looks kind.”
“Kind, yes.” Dracup regarded the handsome features, tracking down from the noble head to the torso. He paused here, and smiled. The stomach was smooth, devoid of umbilical depression. The genitals were large and well proportioned, framed by strong thighs supporting the astonishingly long legs.
I’m looking at the start of it all. The seed of the human race...
Dracup thought of Potzner and his obsessive quest for immortality. He thought of his friend, Charles, lying cold in some indifferent pathology lab. He lifted his hand and placed it on the surface of the material enclosing the body. It had an unexpected warmth to it, a pliancy he had not expected. Under his fingertips it was the shifting colour of a river, blue and green, then grey and flecked with white. A substance unknown to science. Something created, like its contents, ex nihilo.
He realised he was holding Omega tightly, caressing its ancient contours. He wanted to understand the connection – that there was a connection, he had no doubt. He untucked Alpha from his belt and held out both artefacts to Jassim. “These belong to you.”
“I am indebted,” Jassim replied with a slight bow, “as are all our people. Your family’s involvement in these matters has come full circle.” He slotted Alpha and Omega together and raised the staff aloft. “Do you see, Professor? You have returned the two sections of the headpiece for this, the original staff.”
“You mean –”
Jassim held the staff aloft. “It belonged to Adamah; he cut it from the tree before he was expelled from the garden. The headpiece was crafted by Adamah himself, in the early days of his kingship – a symbol of his dominion. But after he fell from grace he fashioned the staff and set the headpiece upon it. God became angry; He divided the sceptre and named the sundered pieces Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, to remind Adamah that he was now mortal, and only God himself was eternal. To Adamah’s sons he gave the two segments. Eventually they were parted, one to Africa, the other remaining with Noah and his descendants. You may read of these events in our scriptures.”
Jassim went on. “You entered the garden of beginnings. Not many have walked where you were permitted to walk. Again, it is in His providence that you followed in Adamah’s footsteps.” Jassim bent and placed his hand on Natasha’s head. “It was for this little one, for her healing.” He smiled down at the girl. “But the life conferred by the tree is a life forbidden to Adamah and his children in these days. In time it will be different, but that time has not yet come.”
“In time. . . ” Dracup felt light-headed. “Please – please, go on.”
“Angels once guarded the portals of Eden, but I am permitted to allow entry to the garden in rare circumstances. Many have attempted to find it and failed. Were you to look for it now, it would remain hidden. It is ‘off the map’, in your colloquial English. Yet within its wastelands, as you have seen, there is life in an abundance the world cannot imagine. One day that life will be revealed in all its fullness. That which the human race lost millennia ago, it shall have again.”