Mission (62 page)

‘It's a waste of time,' I said. ‘Nobody's going to believe it. Okay, so I'm a lawyer. But what does that mean? Nothing.'

He eyed me soberly. ‘Shimon-Petrus is a fisherman who can't even write his name. None of the people who are due to write all this down are Doctors of Divinity. The first theological college has yet to be founded. Forget about the people who will claim to know better because they've read what I'm supposed to have said in the original Greek. Just tell it in your own words, Leo.'

I accepted this instruction with a glum nod. ‘So …' As I told you, I hate goodbyes.

‘Mary will help you get started,' he said. ‘She'll see you've got everything you need. Within reason, of course.'

‘Don't worry,' I replied. ‘I haven't forgotten where I am.' A feeling of desperation came over me. I could not believe that this was the last time I would see him. ‘Do you really have to go?'

‘Yes,' he said. Then he smiled. ‘But you can always get in touch if you need me.'

I grabbed hold of his arm. ‘Listen, there's something I'm not quite clear about. This “raying back” business. From what Mary's told me, things may not be so cut and dried as you've made out. Come on, level with me. Do the good guys win, or don't they?'

He took my hand from his arm and held it tightly. ‘Of course they do. It's just going to take time, that's all. Maybe a little longer than we first expected. Don't worry, the Empire knows what it's doing but–' He beckoned me closer. ‘ – just to be on the safe side, be sure to tell everybody to keep trying.'

The Man put his hands upon my shoulders and fixed me with his golden eyes. As he did so, I heard this voice inside my head. I closed my eyes in order to concentrate and I experienced a timeless, out-of-body moment while The Man, or whoever it was, spoke to me, saying:

Look upon my world through the window of your soul. A world hung with drifting clouds of shimmering gold, pierced by the burnished rays of a thousand suns, yet filled with a light as soft as the face of a sleeping child.

A world without weight. Where the horizons are rimmed with an endless sunrise, and where you float upon the clouds of a sunset so beautiful, it can only be seen through tears of joy.

A glorious world of infinite, harmonious hue. Where form is perceived as feeling. Where feeling is expressed as colour. Where colour is heard as a
vibrant sound. Where the sound is music, and the music is filled with the scent of wild flowers.

A world that is within your world and yet encloses it. That is all around you yet which you cannot touch. Which enters you with each breath and which all may enter. Which awaits your coming and to which I long to return.

I am the hand of The One who has no eyes yet sees into your hearts, who has no ears yet answers your cry, who has no tongue yet whose Word is Love, who has no legs yet stands astride the Universe, who has no arms yet embraces all Eternity.

Your tongue has made a prisoner of your mind and has robbed you of the power to understand how and why our world came to be, but there will come a day when you will look upon the Face of The Presence and All Things will be made known to you. At that moment Time, as you know it, will end. For Us now, Time Is.

I became conscious of my body again. Of my feet pressing against the ground. I opened my eyes as The Man let go of my shoulders and took a step backwards.

‘Goodbye, Leo …'

‘Wait a minute,' I said. ‘Just answer me one question – the police, Lieutenant Russell …'

‘What about them?'

‘Were they real people? I mean, like me, or were they three-dimensional phantoms created by ‘Brax?'

‘No,' he said. ‘They were part of the external reality to which you belonged.'

‘Then who were the other people in Russell's office when he questioned you? The ones that left as I arrived.'

‘Frightened men,' he said – and was gone.

Leaving so much unanswered.

For a moment, I thought I would die. It was as if someone had torn my heart out. I stood there for what seemed like a long time. Thinking about The Man, my life, and Miriam – and how ridiculous it was for someone like me to be crying.

I've been with the people at Qumran for over a year now; working as a scribe, using my new-found linguistic skills in translating documents and making copies of whatever is needed. My previously-acquired
legal expertise has also made it possible for us to screw the Romans at every turn.

I suppose I should have written more but getting hold of enough papyrus and sticking the goddamn sheets together has been a real problem. As you may remember, I was never very good with my hands but I'm learning, I'm learning. I just hope this stuff lasts. I probably should have waited until I was more experienced but I was anxious to get all this down before anything bad happened to me. Like an accident, or something. This place is a long way from the Manhattan General. Thank God I had my appendix taken out when I was sixteen.

The Essenes run their life pretty much by the Book but they make a few allowances for me. It's a bit like Marine boot camp – only the people are a lot smarter. The air here is much better than in the city, but I'm not too crazy about the food. Wild honey may be sweet to the tongue but locusts are definitely an acquired taste.

You may find this hard to believe but I think what I miss most is the traffic.

Love and Peace,

Leo.

The ‘Resnick' Scroll. Catalogue No. Q-ll-7.

QUMRAN, 7th Tishri, 340th year of Minyan Shetiroth

To: Doctor Miriam Maxwell, Apt 811, 57th Street and 1st Avenue, New York, NY; to my parents, Philip and Pearl Resnick, of 946 Riverland Road, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and to my sister Bella Cohen, of 293 Winthrop Shore Drive, Boston, Massachusetts, USA.

I write to you across the years, not knowing when this message will be found. Perhaps you have yet to be born, or are already long dead. I can only pray that, by God's good fortune, you are alive when this scroll is found and that the finder will send you news of my fate. I was chosen to bear witness to The World and to The Man. It is for this reason that I believe my testimony is destined to survive, although I am sure the experts will do their best to refute it. If just one person believes, my journey will not have been wasted.

Do not weep for me. I am among friends and, at last, my life has meaning.

I send you my love and His.

 

Leo

(Publisher's note: What follows is only a partial record of the correspondence relating to the fore going manuscript. It is our belief that many key documents have either been destroyed or removed from the relevant files. We would like to make it clear that official spokesmen for the Federal Government have declined to comment on what would appear to be high-level inter-agency communications. Facsimiles of which are reproduced here. It is for the reader to judge the authenticity of these documents and draw the appropriate conclusions.)

American School of Oriental Studies Wadi-al-Joz, Jerusalem, Israel

To: Professor Moritz Kaufmann

Curator-Dead Sea Scrolls

HEBREW UNIVERSITY, JERUSALEM

9 August 1958

From: Dr Arthur Lovell

CONFIDENTIAL

Dear Moritz,

The Resnick Scroll/Catalogue No. Q-11-7

I have to tell you that Frank Walker and I are in a terrible quandary over what to do with this document. In fact, we both heartily wish that Dr Sterckx's team had not opened Cave Eleven at all. At least we would be able to sleep nights.
¹

Clearly, a Dead Sea Scroll written in American-English – a language which was not in existence at the date inscribed on the document (340 Minyan Shetiroth = 30 AD) is a logical absurdity.

Despite the fact that the syntax and idiom employed by the writer includes certain phrases that are quite unfamiliar to us (eg: ‘Let me run it by you') the internal stylistic evidence points to a supremely impudent hoax by someone with, at the very least, a college education and who is also something of a religious iconoclast.

Frank is of the opinion that the culprit is probably a contemporary American writer of science-fiction but I was struck by the reference to the Gnostic texts from Nag Hammadi. As you know, the contents of these have been kept secret since their discovery and they are currently under lock and key in the Coptic Museum in Cairo. Neither Frank nor I have yet seen them and there cannot be more than a dozen or so international scholars who know of their
existence. So the joker may be nearer home. However, that is the least of our problems.

The fact is, we are totally floored by the results of the laboratory tests we have carried out. All the results serve to confirm the scroll's total authenticity and date as coming from the same period as the other documents found in Q.11. I have enumerated our findings as follows:

1. The Papyrus is, without doubt, early first century. Frank is inclined to think it is pre-50 AD. The weave and multiple sheet composition are identical to the other papyrii we have recovered from this period from Qumran and elsewhere.

2. Condition of the Scroll: of all the papyrii found to date, Q-11-7 is almost flawless. The only surface flaking that has occurred is around the edges. The text has been preserved in its entirety (including the four-letter words). It is this remarkable state of preservation that gives rise to our suspicion that Q-11-7 is an impostor but …

3. Analysis of Ink Samples: these were taken from the preface to the scroll and at intervals throughout the text. The standard tests were applied and produced a perfect match to the composition profile we have constructed of inks used on fully authenticated documents.

4. Carbon Dating: analysis of both papyrus and ink confirm the comparative evidence for the age of the scroll.

5. Pottery Storage jar: this is identical to several others we have found and, by our present criteria, totally authentic. The potter's mark matches that on other storage jars found in Q-11, Q-1 and Q-4.

6. Provenance of Scroll: there is absolutely no doubt that the scroll was inside the jar which was opened, like the others from Q-11, under controlled conditions and under the personal supervision of
Dr André Sterckx. (Who, I might add, is just as upset as we are.)

7. Jar Plug and Sealant: the standard ceramic plug and pitch sealant was used. Both gave positive results when tested.

8. Location of Scroll Jar: this, I am afraid, is the one that puts us right behind the eight-ball. 0-11-7 was found buried under a twelve-inch layer of dust and other debris along with six other jars containing papyrii scrolls with Aramaic texts. There was no sign of any disturbance of the covering layer. As you can imagine, this is a real headache. For we are obliged to ask the following question: If the scroll is a forgery (as we firmly believe it to be) how did it get into the cave alongside five indisputably authentic documents? References in the text to World War Two indicate that it is of recent origin. General Eisenhower is mentioned as having been President. It therefore seems unlikely that the text was composed prior to his term of office. But to avoid any detectable signs of soil disturbance, the jar would have had to be inserted at least twenty to thirty years ago. Which makes the forging of the scroll even more difficult. The writer would not only have to be an archeaological expert, he would also have to be something of a seer!

9. Handwriting analysis: I do not accept this idea but Annette Schuman claims that there is graphological evidence to support the notion that the writer of Q-11-7 could be the scribe/copyist of at least three other Hebrew documents from Q-4 that are currently under analysis. Annette's expertise in this field is not in question but the idea is quite preposterous. Frank and I both feel that further comparative analysis along these lines would be a fruitless exercise.

CONCLUSION: We are faced with an apparently insoluble paradox. Clearly, the scroll is a forgery. However engaging the story might be it is both improbable,
impractical and, more to the point, scientifically impossible. Indeed, it raises more problems that it purports to solve. But how do we reconcile this conclusion with the results of the scientific tests? If we reject the Resnick Scroll then, by the same criteria, we must reject all the other scrolls that we have already accepted as genuine.

We are therefore left with the following options:

(a) Destruction of the scroll: a move which, despite its counterfeit nature, we would be most reluctant to make. Frank and I both believe that it should be preserved, if only for its curiosity value.

(b) Remove all reference to Q-11-7 from the manuscript catalogue and put it into cold storage. There are many years of work ahead for the restoration and translation teams. I think this one can be safely put at the bottom of the pile.

I therefore return it to your safekeeping,

Cordially yours,

Arthur

State University of New York Downstate Medical center Brooklyn, N.Y.

Dr Arthur Love 11

American School of Oriental Research

15 Sept 1958

Jerusalem, Israel

Dear Arthur

Ref: Document Q-11-7

Thank you for your letter and enclosures of August 15. I have read the typed transcript carefully and examined the photostat showing a section of the scroll. It's an interesting problem. The scroll is obviously a very clever fake but I am unable to supply a plausible explanation for the apparently unshakeable scientific evidence which points to its utter authenticity. However, since your letter shows you are keenly aware of this I shall not labour the point, apart from saying that you have my sympathies.