Area 51: Legend

by Robert Doherty

  “I know the reality,” Donnchadh said. She turned toward her husband. “But we must mourn the death of humans, even those under the thrall of the Airlia. Because if we do not mourn them, then we are like the Airlia. We must be human.”

  There was another who had watched the Egyptian army drown. One with a human body. But an Airlia personality. And he did not mourn the deaths. He was wrapped in the long robes of one who lived in the desert, but he was not one of them. He hid on the reverse slope of a sand dune on the Sinai side of the Sea of Reeds and had been observing all day.

  Among the desert people, the Bedu, he was known as Al-Iblis, the evil one. Some said he was not a man but a demon, and they were partially right. He was Aspasia’s Shadow, left behind in the chamber deep inside Mount Sinai.

  He had been awoken as programmed a thousand years after Aspasia left him there. Since then, he had roamed thedesert and beyond, taking in the wonders of the world. He had reincarnated many times, using the Airlia technology to implant his personality into a new body when needed. While he had originally had Aspasia’s personality, the cumulative experiences since he had awoken had changed him and made him a creature still bound to its master, but with its own twisted personality.

  So Aspasia’s Shadow laughed as he watched the Egyptians drown. He found great pleasure in disaster and chaos. He knew of both the Egyptians and the Judeans and all the other people in this part of the world. But he did not know of the two who had planned this ambush. A man and a woman who obviously had access to Airlia technology, as he had recognized both the small black sphere the woman had used and the type of explosive that had destroyed the two sand ridges.

  The Judeans were a strange people. He had watched their small kingdom grow along the banks of the great sea for many years. A people who believed in prophets and one God—a most strange development, which Aspasia’s Shadow had never quite been able to account for. When the Egyptians had swept over the Judeans’ land and taken them into captivity, Aspasia’s Shadow had been content to see these dangerous people with their radical views brought to heel.

  But now they were free and there were two who obviously knew something of the Airlia with them. He did not know what it meant, but he felt it was a threat. And his mission was to stop threats.

  So as the Judeans moved farther into the Sinai, Aspasia’s Shadow followed them and he plotted.

  Donnchadh and Gwalcmai stayed on the fringes of the Judean exodus. They let Moses lead the people into the desert. Gwalcmai wanted to leave, to go back to theirship. But Donnchadh could not bear to depart with the Grail so close. She knew that Gwalcmai was right—that it was too soon to do anything with the Grail—but she felt a visceral attraction toward the alien artifact. With all the terrible things she had witnessed on her own world and on Earth, she felt that the Grail was the only possibility for something good enough to outweigh all of that.

  If they could defeat the Airlia without destroying this planet. And if they could hold on to the Grail. And if they could stay hidden from both the Airlia and the Swarm. Then, just maybe, this planet could be the start of a human empire peopled by immortals. These were the thoughts and hopes that swirled through Donnchadh’s head as she and her mate followed the mass of humanity across the desert toward the land Moses had promised the people.

  They were not completely idle. They scoured the camp in the evening, listening and judging the people they met. They were searching for the best candidate for the role of Wedjat, the Watcher who would begin the line responsible for keeping an eye on the Ark and Grail, now that the artifacts were no longer under the watch of the Wedjat of Giza. After two weeks they found a young man who they felt would fit the mold. He was a man who questioned the preachings of the priests regarding the one God—or any gods for that matter, as there were still sects among the Judeans who worshipped differently—and who eyed Moses—and indeed the two of them—with suspicion. They took him out into the desert and spent three days briefing him and preparing him for the role he was to play. For two days he refused to believe their story of the Airlia, Atlantis, and the Great Civil War, until Donnchadh demonstrated the pieces of Airlia technology she had brought with her. They took him out of earshot of the camp and remotely set off one of the explosive charges, shattering a boulder. This sufficiently impressed him, thatwhile they did not claim to be Gods, the two had more power than anyone else he had seen.

  They gave him a Wedjat ring and as much information as they dared, including the location of the Watcher headquarters in Avalon, with orders to try to get reports there as often as possible. Donnchadh had found that humans became energized when given a solid goal, a focus for their lives, and she used this to her advantage. She knew, and tried not to reflect too heavily on, that this was not much different from the Airlia use of religion to control people. She did not know whether this desire to believe in something larger than oneself was a trait that had just developed in humans, or whether it was something the Airlia had deliberately injected into their genetic makeup. Ultimately, she had decided that it did not matter—it existed, and therefore had to be calculated into any plan.

  At the camp, despite Moses’ best efforts and what had happened in the Sea of Reeds, he could not allay the people’s fear that the Egyptians were still chasing after them and would return them to slavery. Because of this, the route he was taking across the Sinai was anything but direct. They were swinging far to the south to avoid any possibility of running into Egyptian patrols.

  Gwalcmai, as Donnchadh had feared, quickly grew weary of the long loop to the south through desolate terrain. He saw it as unnecessary and dangerous for both of them. Already there were factions among the Judeans, groups opposed to Moses because he was not one of them. To counteract that, Moses had begun spreading a story that his mother had been a Judean slave. Such politicking disgusted Gwalcmai and, given that Donnchadh could give him no valid reason for their continued presence in this sun-blasted land, his patience was wearing very thin.

  Two months after their departure from Egypt, the Judeancolumn was halted in a large wadi, near a small water hole. Food was scarce and, given that the slaves had started the journey half-starved, the rumble of discontent was as loud as that of the empty stomachs. To the south and east they could see several tall peaks towering into the sky. All around lay desolate desert.

  “It is time for us to get back to our ship,” Gwalcmai said. He had a cloth wrapped around his face to protect it from the light mist of blowing sand. They both wore white robes cinched about their waists with cord. They were on the east side of the wadi, along the edge. Below them to the west were thousands of Judeans, huddled under what passed for shelter. A small group was clustered near the south end—Moses and the tribal leaders, arguing about direction and, more important, food.

  “It will be a long and hard journey,” Gwalcmai continued when Donnchadh did not respond to his first statement. When she still didn’t say anything, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I am tired.”

  That caught her attention. “What do you mean? We can rest on the way back. We are still early in these bodies and—”

  “I am tired,” Gwalcmai said. He shrugged. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel weary like I never have before.”

  That caused Donnchadh pause, bringing back memories of the time in Avalon when he had fallen sick. “Do you feel ill?”

  “Nothing specific,” Gwalcmai said. “Just a feeling of unease and malaise.” He nodded toward the cluster around Moses. “They couldn’t agree on whether the sun came up, never mind on a direction. And I don’t see much possibility of food in this desolate place.”

  “If we leave, what about the Grail?” Donnchadh asked.

  “We did what we could. The Wedjat of the Judeans isprepared as best we could do. The Grail and Ark will pass into legend and history, but the bottom line is that the Airlia and their people will not have it. In fact, it would be best if you and I did not know where it is. We agreed that we would block out i
ts location during the imprinting on the next regeneration, anyway, so that we would not be tempted.”

  The Airlia technology they used had the ability to selectively block information from being downloaded into the brain. This was a security device the Airlia used to protect vital data from the Swarm in the only way possible—by making sure it was not accessible.

  “You have to let go of your dream for now,” Gwalcmai said. “We knew from the beginning it would take a very, very long time before the Airlia could be overthrown here. We have done well, causing their civil war. Leading them into destroying Atlantis. Stealing the Grail. But it is time for us to let things develop. Who knows how this”—he indicated the Judeans—“will turn out. As I always say—it will turn out in a way we least expect.”

  Donnchadh reluctantly nodded. “It is time for us to go.”

  Aspasia’s Shadow watched the two white-robed figures head off to the north. He still had no idea who they were other than troublesome strangers. He had heard rumors of a group called the Wedjat, which traced its lineage back to Atlantis and had vowed to keep tabs on the Airlia. There was supposed to be one at Giza, but the threat from humans was so insignificant that Aspasia’s Shadow had never bothered to check out the rumors. Perhaps the two were part of this Wedjat. If so, they did more than watch. Getting the Grail out of the Hall of Records was a rather significant feat, but a fruitless one. Aspasia’s Shadow was more than prepared to counter their action.

  As the two strange humans disappeared to the north, Aspasia’s Shadow sent an emissary to the Judean camp—a Bedu, one of many whom he had recruited through fear and bribery to support him in the Sinai. He had given the man both a message and a sign to present to the leader of the Judeans.

  Moses had long ago accepted that this had been a mistake. He would have been better off staying governor of Midian than leading this group of ungrateful louts. He had always thought the Judeans one people, but although they all claimed a singular heritage, there were twelve distinct tribes among them. And it was nearly impossible to get two of the tribal leaders to agree on anything, never mind twelve. Every decision required a meeting and they spent more time in meetings than traveling.

  He was leading them on a circuitous route to the land he had in mind for them not only because he feared the Egyptians but because he knew there were other dangers in Palestine, and if these people didn’t unite before they arrived, they would be overwhelmed.

  Right now, though, food was the priority. The Judeans had brought few supplies with them on departing Egypt and the pickings had been slim along the way. The two who had started all this—Gwalcmai and Donnchadh—had made themselves scarce ever since the Sea of Reeds and been of little help.

  As the dozen tribal chieftains argued among themselves, one of Moses’ aides came to him and whispered in his ear that a local man had come to talk to him. Glad to be out of earshot of the arguing, Moses left the tent and went a short distance away where the Bedu waited for him.

  “My lord,” the Bedu said, going to one knee, as Moses appeared.

  Moses dismissed his aide. “What do you want?”

  The Bedu stood and held out an amulet. On it was inscribed the triangle with an eye in the middle—the same symbol Donnchadh had shown him. “You are Wedjat?” Moses asked.

  “No, Lord. I come from one whom the Wedjat watch.”

  Moses froze. “What do you mean?”

  “I come from God to bring you a message and to bring you words of hope.”

  Moses made note of the singular. “What God do you come from?”

  “The one true God,” the Bedu said. “As a sign of his benevolence for you and the people you lead, he has prepared food for you and your people’s sustenance.”

  That, at least, was more helpful than Donnchadh and her partner had been, Moses thought. “Where is this food?”

  “I will show you, then you can lead your people to it. You will tell them it comes from their God. That their God will help them across the desert. But that they must worship and obey the one and only God.”

  Moses nodded. It was the only way he could see to unite these people long enough for them to establish their homeland and fight off their enemies. “Is that all?”

  “He wants to meet you and some of the elders of the tribes.”

  Moses eyebrows arched. “God does?”

  “Yes. First, the food. Then I will be back to tell you when and where to meet God.”

  The food was abundant and mightily welcomed by the Judeans, who knew only that Moses was the favoredof God, who had showered this blessing down upon them. For the time being the bickering subsided. The encampment was moved, as Moses had been directed by the Bedu messenger to do, farther south, to the shadow of the shorter of the two peaks.

  They spent a week eating and resting. Then the Bedu secretly came to Moses once more in the middle of the night. He ordered Moses to gather four of the Judean elders the next evening and to bring the Ark with them up the mountain. Moses was surprised for a moment that the Bedu knew of the Ark, as he had ordered it kept hidden during the journey for fear that someone would try to steal it. It had been loaded inside a large wooden box and placed on one of the few wagons they had brought with them.

  Moses searched out the four elders and gave them the instructions. As darkness fell the following evening, they retrieved the Ark and carried it out of the camp and toward the base of the mountain. As the Bedu had said, they found a thin, single track that led up the mountain and with great difficulty, carrying the Ark, they made their way up. As dawn slowly tinged the sky to the east they were barely two-thirds of the way to the top when they crossed over a spur jutting out from the side of the mountain. They came to a halt as they were faced by a score of Bedu dressed in black robes and holding long, bright spears. In the forefront was the Bedu who had been meeting with Moses.

  “Leave the Ark here,” the Bedu ordered.

  Relieved, the four Judeans lowered the Ark to the rocky ground.

  “Come,” the Bedu ordered. They followed, the guards falling in behind them as they continued up the trail about four hundred meters, to a point where a tall rock, over twenty-five meters in height, jutted out from the side of the mountain. The Bedu went up to the base of the rock andplaced the eye symbol he had shown Moses during the first meeting against it. The Judeans were startled as a doorway, three meters wide by two high, appeared.

  One of the four held back, not willing to go into the dark entrance. The Bedu showed little patience, snapping an order in his own language to the guards. They slew the Judean where he stood, severing his head from his body, the blood pumping out onto the rock before the doorway. The others needed no more incentive. They rushed through the doorway and it slid shut behind them.

  “I am a vengeful God.”

  The voice echoed in the darkness, against the stone walls of the chamber. A light began to grow from a line in the ceiling and a figure was revealed standing on the other side of the cavern: a tall man robed in black. A hood hid his face.

  “You will obey or you will suffer, as your comrade did.”

  The Judeans fell to their knees and prostrated themselves, foreheads to the floor. Moses hesitated, then slowly went to his knees and bowed his head.

  “I am the one and only God,” the figure continued. “You will worship me and you will obey my rules for your people. You will keep the Ark in your care, but you must never open it. Death will be the penalty for whoever opens it and gazes upon what is inside.”

  The figure turned toward a doorway on the far side of the chamber. “Come with me and see what wondrous things I have for you.”

  Aspasia’s Shadow watched Moses and the surviving three Judeans carry the Ark along the trail and out of sight, heading back toward their encampment. They were Guides now, their will suborned to the programming of theguardian computer he had taken them to deep inside the mountain.

  Aspasia’s Shadow had played with the idea of keeping the Ark and Grail here, but knew that
if his maker ever came to check on him, such an act would result in his immediate termination. He knew that he should take the Ark and Grail from the Judeans and return it to Giza. But—and there was always a but—he also knew doing so would take away any hope he ever had of partaking of the Grail. He was tired of this endless series of reincarnations in the service of the Airlia. He had more than enough of Aspasia’s personality to know his maker would dispose of him like so much trash when the time came for the Airlia to resume their control of this world. And if Artad prevailed, the result would be the same. Aspasia’s Shadow had to make his own plans, and letting the Judeans take the Ark and Grail with them provided just one of many options he wanted to keep open.

  He had imprinted into the three Judeans and Moses the imperative that they were to make security of the Ark their paramount concern. On top of that, he had reinforced the Judeans’ belief in their one God. Religion, as the Airlia had learned, was a most effective way of keeping humans under control. They had always made the humans worship them, but Aspasia’s Shadow thought it was a good idea to introduce the concept of more gods to the humans.

  We did well,” Gwalcmai said as they began to strip down in preparation for entering the deep sleep tubes. It had taken them two years of hard traveling to make it back to their ship. Gwalcmai now sported a wicked-looking scar along his right arm from shoulder to elbow from a battle in the forests of Gaul, where they had been ambushed by thieves and barely escaped with their lives.

  Donnchadh nodded. “The Airlia no longer have control of the Grail. That is a large step. But I am worried about Moses and the Judeans and—”

  Gwalcmai put his hand over her mouth. “Hush. Do not go into the deep sleep with worries. They’ll rattle around in your head all those years and give you a headache. Let me give you a good memory to take with you.” He lifted her off her feet and carried her forward to the pilot’s seat.

  Moses did not survive to lead the Judeans into the land he had promised them. Aspasia’s Shadow learned this from one of his Bedu spies who had trailed the Judeans north to Palestine. However, the twelve tribes had united strongly after Moses and the elders came down from the mountain with their unshakable belief in one God and a set of divine rules by which the people were to live. Humans liked external rules—it was something the Airlia had bred into the species.