“True,” said the Professor. “Let me explain the veiled meaning behind the inscription. Since the construction was made by the arms of the Kabbirim, it would then be impossible to measure the Temple according to the standard arms-length.” He paused, looked around him, and resumed, “the only reasonable key would be to consider the arms-length of the Kabbirim, and I mean, the Royal Arms.”
Maya didn’t comment on the instructive words of her teacher. She had indeed thought about that, when she’d been in the ditch, two days ago. Proud of herself that she had reached the same conclusion as the Professor, she smiled. However, what truly escaped her was the exact measurement of the Kabbirim’s arms.
“How should we calculate them, Professor?” Paul hastened to ask, before she could.
Time seemed to have accelerated in her mind, as she waited impatiently.
“In a bit, Paul. In a bit,” uttered the Professor calmly. “In fact, we first have to know who the Kabbirim were, in order to know the exact measurements of the construction made by their arms. Isn’t that right?” he asked, teasingly, yet serious.
Maya nodded in total approval, followed by Paul.
“Very well then, there were actually two synonyms for the word Kabbirim or Cabiri in ancient Phoenicia: ‘Giants’ and ‘Sages’,” he informed. “We are not concerned with the synonym ‘Sages’ here, as it does not relate to what we are searching for.” He paused for a moment. “It is believed that a Giant was double the size of a modern man in dimension, so, whether this is true, a myth, or just an allegory for something else, the numbers may have been calculated accordingly, during the construction of the Seven-Pillared Temple, as Thor’s inscription states. Hence, the arms-length of the Kabbirim is double the arms-length of modern men,” he concluded.
“Aha.” Maya gave a sigh of relief at this explanation. “So… 15 arms of the Kabbirim are equal to 10.5 meters times 2, and that would be 21 meters in length, for each, the first and the second parts. The same number goes for the width and the height. As for the length of the third section, it would then be 3.5 meters times 2, thus reaching 7 meters.” She dwelt on the numbers, making the full calculation. “Accordingly, the total Length of the Temple would then be 49 meters, while the width and the height are 21 meters each. Could that be correct, Professor?” she asked passionately.
“A perfect match with the proportions of the Great Phoenician Temples,” he answered her with a smile.
“Very well,” Paul stated, thrilled. “We’ll map the area accordingly then,” he said.
“Good luck,” said Dr. Saab enthusiastically. “You will be careful, won’t you?” He glared at them with the same look of warning he had given them before, and Maya found this recurring behavior of the Professor a bit strange. “Oh, it’s almost 10:30; I have an important meeting at the Research Centre at 11:00. Please, excuse me, for I must make a hasty departure, Maya, Mr. Khoury.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Maya said in a gentle tone. “We really appreciate your help. I’ll keep you posted.”
The Professor nodded, and left immediately.
“Let’s go back to the base camp, Paul.” She looked at him with keen eyes. “We have work to do.”
He concurred with a wide grin.
.18.
In search of the Saint of Saints
Saturday, October 23, 05:27 PM
They had finished preparing the mapping device for the Temple field, according to the new calculations given by the Professor. Once again, they considered the exact spot where they found the Stone to be the entrance door to the Temple. They also presumed that the Great Altar should be in the direction of the East, as per the Phoenician tradition. Having done that, the team was able to identify the area where the Saint of Saints should be located under the ground.
Immediately afterwards, and with great enthusiasm, Maya brought her archeological tools to the spot she designated as proper for the digging. It would be the first two meters of the aboveground surface of the ritual room. She then sketched out the area, in the shape of a square, secured the premises with a triple-layered thick blue rope, fixed to four wooden poles, each within 7 meters distance of the other. She finally nailed the no-trespassing signposts for excavation work on each pole.
The watch in Paul’s wrist marked 3:30 PM when Maya began the digging. With fervent feelings all through the process, Zago moved stones and sand away, to clear the path for Maya. The rest of the team felt somehow guilty, watching him sweating alone, so they moved to help.
Time was running by quickly, and the solar disk rolled into the horizon, that Friday afternoon, donning orange-red attire over the Mediterranean Sea. It was getting too late to continue the digging. Time to stop for the night, as the watch in Maya’s wrist marked 6:15 PM.
“It will be crucial now, to erect a tent over the excavated spot, to secure it from intruders,” Maya verbalized the possibility, which they all had considered, and which had to be taken into great consideration. “We will resume the work, tomorrow morning,” she added.
The team erected the tent and, afterwards, went for tea and coffee at one of the cafés around the souk.
***
Meanwhile, amidst the plain, beneath one of the most regal peaks of the Alps, the double-structured Swiss Chalet, roofed with dark-brown pieces of brick, beautifully surrounded with long Cypress trees, and lit with faint yellow lights, welcomed the Ordo Supremus Militaris Templi Hierosolymitani inside its alluringly luxurious walls.
The three towers, topped with tiny dark-grey stones, overlooked the wide perimeter, completely secured, not only by dozens of black Dobermans, lurking all around, but also, by the most sophisticated security systems. Not a soul had been seen moving within the short scope of his vision, and surely nowhere around the prestigious residence. His silhouette, standing behind the window’s bulletproof glass, moved the curtain, left then right, peeking outside.
“Are you sure about the information you received from our secret agents in Lebanon, Brother Herbert?” The Grand Master’s croaky voice resonated in the back, reaching the attentive ears of both, B:. Herbert and B:. James, sitting on comfortable couches around a rectangular black and white table, set in the middle.
“No question about it, Grand Master,” he confirmed. Clothed in a black suit, over a pallid shirt, in his early thirties, B:. Herbert had a clean-shaven, rhombus-shaped face, with little green eyes and long black hair, streaming down to his shoulders.
“This is a very critical situation,” the Grand Master warned them. “We have heard of these Seven-Pillared Temples of the Phoenicians. We knew there were seven, built all over the Phoenician land, but we only knew the location of six. The most archaic one was at Mt. Hermon, known as the Mountain of the Meetings. Another one was built in the ancient city of Gebel and this is the Great Phoenician Temple the Lebanese team is exploring now. The third, built in Tyre, is called the Temple of Baal-Melkart. There was another, constructed in Sidon, and, one for Baal, the Phoenician representation of the Sun, in the Heliopolis, known as the city of the Sun: Baalbeck. The sixth Temple was erected on the top of Mt. Carmel, and is dedicated to El,” he informed them, and then paused, “however; the location of the seventh Temple has been kept hidden from us. We don’t really know where it is.” He took a deep breath.
“At any rate, if the Seven-Pillared Temple in Gebel revealed itself fully to the people working there, we will definitely lose the credibility we have been trying to create throughout the long history of the Craft, not only as a historical reality, but also as a symbolic religion.” The old man, probably in his late sixties, walked away from the window, and took his place on a large regal armchair on the western side behind the desk.
“If they ever find the Cup of Life,” alerted B:. Herbert, “Then, I believe, everything we have built will crumble into little pieces,” he said this, as he looked at the two paintings of the Temple of Jerusalem and the Tower of Babel, hanging on the wall next to each other, and looming over them like ghosts. His thumb swayi
ng a golden ring, topped with a precious red stone in his ring finger.
Clad in a black outfit, over a black shirt, the man with the influential status of Grand Master had a long shady face with a dark-grey beard and curly hair. His clear image as a skilled person quavered with his annoyance. “What do you suggest, Brother James?” he managed to ask.
Seated on the luxurious couch in front of the desk, and dressed in a light-blue shirt, topped with an elegant dark-grey suit, B:. James, in his late fifties, turned his head in the direction of the Grand Master, to speak. A well-trimmed moustache decorated his round face with large blue eyes and golden hair. “I cannot neglect the repercussions that a revelation of such magnitude may have on the Craft. However, and due to the sensitivity of the issue, I cannot but think of an urgent meeting, to be held at the council of the Big Brother immediately.” he said with resolution. A silver ring, capped by a blue precious stone, gleamed from his fourth finger.
“Very well, but a meeting at the congress of the Big Brother cannot be prepared on such short notice. Time is playing against us now. Instead, I shall arrange a videoconference, right now, with the 6 major points of the luminary,” the Grand Master announced emphatically. “I will inform you about the outcome, when the meeting is over.”
A bit more than an hour later, the videoconference, held in a special private room inside the black and white stronghold, had ended. The Grand Master entered the meeting office, where B:. Herbert and B:. James were anxiously waiting for the final decision.
Sitting on his large stately armchair, he put his hands firmly on the desk in front of him, looked at his two brothers squarely in the eyes, and uttered, “The Big Brother has finally decided. We, the Babylonian Brotherhood, have voted unanimously on the verdict. We will act immediately, as indicated by the charter of the ‘BBB’.”
“You mean, a full attack?” wondered B:. James, and looked at B:. Herbert in confusion. “Isn’t it too early… too exposing for the Brotherhood?”
B:. Herbert didn’t join in B:. James’s anxious expression. He remained silent, seated on the luxurious couch with a happy look on his face.
“War has been indirectly declared on us, B:. James. Can’t you see? Why can’t you see? What they may discover will potentially expose our account of history, to the entire world, as a false tale, and thus, we cannot afford to use anything less than full power.” His thumb rolled the golden-black ring on his thorny index, while the Hebrew letter Yod, (י), emblazoned on a six-pointed star-shaped jewel inside the ring, glistened all over the room.
B:. James tapped his right hand fingers on the black desk, in a gesture of fretfulness. He just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that warfare he knew could be of devastating proportions had been launched on an unarmed team of people, simply for having a keen thirst for knowledge. Yet, he could not react.
“We have been watching Lebanon, that old country, for centuries now,” the old man behind the desk spoke in a croaky voice, and added, “knowing that if anything comes to endanger our very existence, it would primarily surface there. And, when this transpired, last month, we sent the Architect—Hiram Melki—to the pit, not aware that anyone could come, as quickly as this team has, to jeopardize our Brotherhood again.” He paused for a sip of water from his golden cup. “Let it be known that no one, outside our council, is safe. A meager critique will be enough to mark anyone as a potential target. The Big Brother has decided to unleash the Knights Kadosh,” he concluded, and ended the meeting.
Time ceased to run… yet time had not ended.
***
The early Saturday morning light bathed the Archaeological Site in Gebel with the warm rays of the sun. It was 10:30 AM when they entered the tent they had erected the day before to cover the ditch, and resumed their digging of the Great Phoenician Temple. Avid feelings of expectation and hope engulfed them like the day before. Maya, Paul, Youmna, Zago, and Jim worked together as a harmonious team, as if they were only one person at work. They had never felt like this before, a bond so strong that it made them envision the enormity of the commitment they embraced for the spirits of their ancestors—the Phoenicians.
Frustratingly though, the more they removed rocks and sand out of the way, the more the digging continued, and time flew by them with no result yet noticeable. In consequence, a strong determination took hold of them, until they finally reached a large flat stone that seemed very ancient.
“This could be it,” Maya exclaimed, all of a sudden. “I think we’re close to something. This is a prime building stone that the ancients used. It could be from the ground floor of the ritual room. Give me some space to manage things around here, before I proceed further,” she said.
With a hand pick, a thin trowel, and a hand brush, she cleaned the space around the stone that soon revealed, bit-by-bit, its true dimensions. Although thick, the stone suddenly split in half, with a creepy resonance that ricocheted in the dark hole that appeared beneath them. Maya leapt back in surprise. They were all startled by that unexpected and strange incident.
What could they find there… down in the hole?
Could it be some sort of a tunnel that may lead to the ruins of the Saint of Saints? Maya thought, as she lowered her head to look right and left.
“A torch, please. I need some light here,” she asked of them.
Could it be a secret underground chamber? Paul wondered in the stillness of the moment that ensued. That, however, was not mentioned in the sketch on the Stone, he thought again, yet his enthusiasm didn’t prevent him from calling Padre Joseph, and relating the discovery of the hole to him.
The sun edged nearer, lower, then centered in the horizon, and a chilly wind enfolded them. The watch in Jim’s wrist marked 05:37 PM. Youmna dug out a torch from among the archeological tools nearby, and passed it on to Maya to illuminate the hole.
She breathed…
“Oh God! What is that?” she called out gaudily, astonished.
“What! What is there?” Zago nagged her.
“The Saint of Saints!” Youmna exclaimed, standing beside her.
“Could it be?” Jim inquired excitedly. “It’s just not possible,” he said, coming back to his senses, shaking his head in bewilderment.
The Archaeologist, who seemed to be in shock, did not answer at all. Her mind stayed focused below, as if she had been witnessing history in the making, or remaking.
“Could it be, Maya?” Paul questioned eagerly. He felt that her silence could not denote otherwise. “I mean… how?” he wondered. “The ritual room should be in ruins after thousands of years. How come it is still standing, even now, although underneath the surface?”
“It couldn’t be it… no… it’s out of the question,” Maya suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that had captured her for some minutes. “It could only be a replica of the original one.” She paused. “I can’t really think of another possible explanation,” she added.
“A replica?” Paul asked, confused.
“Yes, could be, perhaps in an attempt to secure the Cup of Life,” she uttered, as if in a mystical trance.
The sound of the word, Cup of Life, resonated deeply in the hole below. Then, they all heard it, bouncing off the walls, once, twice, three times…
“I can’t see things clearly, down there,” Maya revealed in a wondrous tone, after she finally managed to savor the revelation she had perceived. “But I must inform you of what my eyes see; an altar of cubical shape, surrounded by two pillars, something like the drawing in the sketch.” She then said, “There is an object of some sort, resting on the altar…” She paused for a minute, “I cannot really discern its nature.” She tilted her head right, and then left again. “I can also see some inscriptions, there on the walls, but I can’t truly know what they say.” She shook her head then added, “Too many layers of dust and spider webs on the walls. Yet… this is… amazing! Really startling!” she ended, grinning in bewilderment.
“No matter what it is… I believe we should go down,”
curt and brief, Youmna announced with resolve, after a long silent moment had passed.
“What?” Zago screamed in surprise, exchanging strange glimpses with the rest of the team.
“It’s only a few meters down the hole, and I don’t have enough time for waiting, Zago,” she answered. “Sorry, Maya,” she uttered enthusiastically and snatched the torch from Maya’s hand, but before she could jump in, the mobile in Paul’s jacket rang.
“Hello,” the abrupt voice of Padre Joseph echoed in Paul’s ears. “Can you hear me, Paul?”
“Yes, Padre, I can hear you very well.”
“Good. Listen. We have a situation here.”
“A situation?” Paul exclaimed in a worried tone, looking over at his friends, who appeared fully attentive. “What’s going on?”
“The Professor you told me about, yesterday, the man who had decoded the riddle regarding the dimensions of the Temple, Dr. Hamid Saab…” the Padre came to a brief halt.
“Yes. Is he ok? What happened?” Paul asked, confused, afraid. He stared at Maya then away.
“I’m sorry to tell you that he has been found dead, strangled in his own house, in Beirut, a couple of hours ago.”
“What?” Paul’s outraged voice alerted his friends, Maya in particular, that something evil had transpired.
“What’s wrong?” Maya asked in fear.
Paul couldn’t answer her right away, as he tried to hear the encroaching voice of the Padre on the cell phone, telling him, “Leave the archaeological site, right now, leave Gebel, get rid of all possible traces that may lead to the exact location of the hole you recently found in the Temple field. Dismantle the tents… everything, and…” he stopped for a thought, “Run for your lives.”
The warning came as powerful as a thunderbolt in Paul’s ear. He pushed the red button on his mobile, to end the call. Although he wondered about how Padre Joseph had learned of the Professor’s death, he judged that the situation was extremely risky to ponder about it for now. He, instead, informed the team about what had happened.
The Phoenician Code Page 16
