SHEDDING LIGHT

by Michael Edelson

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “After this, you’ll have some.”

  “Some what?”

  “Medals. More than one I think.”

  “What for?” Now was hardly the time for her usual jokes.

  “Um, lemme see,” she said. “For taking command of the world’s first interstellar space ship and rescuing it and its crew from disaster after the loss of its captain and the destruction of the VTF scope. I’d call that above and beyond, wouldn’t you?”

  “You think so?” He didn’t know what else to say. Despite her acerbic wit, when it came to his sense of unworthiness she had always been supportive. He wondered why.

  “Sure, but don’t get a fat head just yet,” she said, waggling an accusing finger. “We’re not home yet, and you’ll get nothing but a bad obituary if we die.”

  “Right,” he said, remembering why he had come here. She had put him back on track, and he was grateful.

  “So where would he have kept it?”

  “Hidden somewhere here,” he said. “There’s no sign that anyone was here looking. Let’s see if we can find it.”

  They began to ransack the room, leaving nothing untouched. Each cabin had a small hop capsule for all equipment and personal items that didn’t interact well with the mass interface. Normally, this would apply to the mattresses as well, but theirs were made of entirely synthetic materials. It was elastic, but as they all learned very quickly, elastic did not necessarily mean soft. Jack felt a certain vengeful satisfaction as he tore the thing off the bunk and tossed it on the deck

  “Damned torture wrack,” he said, giving it a half-hearted kick.

  “I know what you mean,” Debbie said as she emptied the captain’s personal capsule item by item. “I hate those damned things. Hello, what’s this!”

  “What do you have?” Jack came over to take a look. She showed him an empty aluminum box big enough to have held the makeshift bomb. Traces of the grey explosive putty were still inside.

  “So this is where he kept it,” she said. “Odd.”

  “Why odd?”

  “Everything in the capsule was stacked neatly. There was no sign that anything had been tossed aside,” she explained. “No sign that anyone other than the captain took it out of there. And this box, it has a lock.” She held it up for him to see. “It was open, and the keyhole doesn’t look like it was picked or forced.”

  He nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

  “But why?” she asked with a perplexed shake of her head. “Why would the captain try to sabotage his own mission?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Let’s go talk to Jonathan. Maybe he’ll have some answers.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “SO,” DEBBIE SAID AS they walked down the corridor to Jonathan’s quarters. “You think maybe he was acting under the captain’s orders?”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “But it doesn’t fit neatly.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, remember when we first caught him on the observation deck, after Carl took him away?”

  “Sure.”

  “Remember what the captain said about Jonathan being Jewish? About how he thought that didn’t give him enough of a motive?”

  “Yes. I thought that was a bit peculiar.” They climbed down the chute that connected the bridge to the observation deck, making their way to the part of the ship that held the rest of their quarters.

  “I think he said that because he had his own motives. Not only that, but he must have felt very self-righteous about them. That’s why I think he couldn’t understand why someone who didn’t share his religious beliefs had a good enough reason to do what he did. Almost like he thought Jonathan was a criminal while he was a crusader.”

  “I see it now,” she said, shivering. “Spooky. What you gaijin will do for your beliefs.”

  “Gaijin my ass,” he said, laughing. “If there’s one thing I know about you it’s that you’re at least third generation Californian.”

  “Honto desu.” She chuckled. “But I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist to figure that out.” He smiled at her choice of words.

  They came to Jonathan’s quarters, locked by an identical ten digit keypad. After entering his code, they stepped inside. Jonathan sat up from his cot. His hands were secured, though Carl had moved them to the front of his torso.

  “About time,” he complained. “I need to go to the bathroom. And what the hell was that explosion all about? No one told me anything!”

  “Later,” Jack ordered. “We’re going to the starboard storage bay. Now.”

  “What for?” he demanded, climbing to his feet. Jack placed a hand on his shoulder and shoved him toward the hatchway. “Hey!” he cried. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Now!” Jack barked, pushing him along.

  Cowed, Jonathan allowed himself to be shoved along the corridor, eventually keeping pace on his own. They entered the storage bay, heading straight for the airlock. Jack pushed a button and the airlock door swung open.

  “Hey!” Jonathan demanded, planting his feet firmly on the deck and refusing to move. “What’s going on here?”

  Jack punched him in the solar plexus. Jonathan dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. Debbie’s eyes opened wide, but she didn’t say anything. Without giving him time to recover, Jack dragged him to his feet and pushed him into the airlock, slamming the hatch shut behind him. Jonathan immediately stood up plastered his face against the view-port. His mouth moved, but they couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  “Wow,” Debbie said, shaking her head. “That was harsh.”

  Jack shrugged. “We have to get him to talk. We can’t afford to doubt what he’s going to tell us.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s still harsh.” She smiled reassuringly.

  He returned her smile, making sure Jonathan couldn’t see. Then he turned on the airlock intercom.

  “Let me out of here you goddamned maniac!” Jonathan was screaming, his face red against the view-port.

  “Jonathan,” Jack said calmly. “Listen to me.”

  “Get me out of here! I’ll kill you, you bastard! Let me out!”

  “Jonathan,” Jack repeated, slowly. “If you don’t shut up and listen, I am going to depressurize the airlock.” His hand rose to hover over the control console.

  Jonathan instantly quieted. “What…what do you want?”

  “That’s more like it,” Jack said in a friendly and reassuring tone. “I need you to understand something. Are you listening?”

  “Yes, yes I’m listening!” he cried.

  “Good. I am acting under authority from the uniform code of military justice, article 13, paragraph two, under the emergency war powers act of 2012. Are you familiar with that article?”

  “N..no,” Jonathan said, breathing heavily.

  “It gives a military officer the authority to interrogate and if necessary, execute a prisoner. The captain has declared this an emergency, and granted me the power to exercise my authority under that article. You have been declared a military prisoner. Do you understand what that means?”

  “I don’t know…I…”

  “It means I have the authority to execute you. Listen to me very carefully. I am going to ask you a series of questions. I already know the answers to some of these questions. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, frantically. “I think so, yes!” Jack was amazed at the effect he was having on the man. He looked scared to death!

  “If you try to lie to me, Jonathan,” he continued. “Odds are I will know it. I will know it because you won’t know which questions I am asking because I really don’t know the answer, and which ones I am asking to test you. Do you understand?”

  He nodded again.

  “If you lie to me,” Jack said, still speaking slowly and calmly. “If you lie even one time, I will depressurize the airlock. You will die. Do you understand?”

  Once again, the young man nodded. Jack noticed that he was starting
to tremble.

  “If you answer all of my questions truthfully, I will open the door and let you out. Do we have a deal?”

  “Yes.” Jonathan started to sob. Tears rolled down his cheek and drew lines in the fogged view-port.

  “Calm down, Jonathan, stop crying now.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.” The young man took a few deep breaths and managed to get a hold of himself.

  “Are you ready?” Jack continued, trying his best to resist the urge to open the hatch. He hated what he was doing, but it was necessary.

  “Yes. I’m fine. Ask, please.” Jonathan was exerting tremendous effort to keep his face steady.

  “My first question is this. When did you decide that you were going to try to sabotage the expedition?”

  “I…” he hesitated for a moment, then exhaled slowly. “I didn’t want to jeopardize the expedition. I just wanted to erase the data Merrick was gathering to discredit the bible. I…I thought it was wrong. I just couldn’t let him do it.”

  “Was wiping the data chips your only act of sabotage?” Jack stared at him intently, his finger still hovering over the control panel. That fact was not lost on Jonathan.

  “Yes,” he said firmly, without hesitation. “Yes, that was it. I didn’t want to hurt anyone or even this expedition. It would still have been a success without that old fool’s crusade against God. We saw the past, proved it could be done. That was enough.”

  Jack nodded. “Did you ever speak to the captain about your plans?”

  Jonathan looked perplexed. “No,” he said. “No. Why would I do that? He would have locked me up.”

  “Good,” Jack said. “You’re doing fine. Now think hard. Did you and the captain ever discuss Merrick’s research?”

  “No.” Jonathan shook his head. Jack moved his hand closer to the button. “No! No! I didn’t…wait! Yes, yes I did! But it was after. After I was caught. The captain came to my quarters a few times to interrogate me. He didn’t believe that all I wanted to do was erase that specific data.”

  “What part of Merrick’s research did you talk about?”

  “After we found the bomb.” Jonathan looked down at the floor, trying to concentrate. “Merrick came to me and told me that the focus of his research would change. That he was going after the bible directly. He was going to disprove the account of Exodus, of how the Jews left Egypt, and more, though he wouldn’t tell me what. That was when I decided to do what I did. I thought that with the weird glitches and the bomb, no one would suspect me. I just couldn’t believe he was going to actively try to discredit God. I mean it was one thing when he was looking at building techniques and maybe trying to see how Moses didn’t really part the Red Sea, but this was different. I couldn’t accept it. It’s my work too, damnit, I had every right!”

  “And you told the captain this? About the new focus of his research?” Jack recalled his own conversation with Merrick before Jonathan was discovered. He had asked Jack not to tell anyone, worried that the saboteur would find out.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Think hard, Jonathan. How did the captain react?”

  Jonathan frowned. “I’m not sure. He was surprised, but he didn’t say much after that. He left and I never saw him again. Why are you asking me about the captain? What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing,” Jack said. “You did fine. I’m going to let you out now.” He pushed the button that opened the airlock hatch. Jonathan spilled out as the door hissed open. He was breathing heavily, his face wet with perspiration.

  “Let’s go,” Jack said after giving the man a minute to recover his composure. Jonathan got up and walked back to his room without saying a word. Once there, he walked inside, then paused.

  “I still need to go to the bathroom.”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll get Carl. I have no idea how to get those things off you without a knife." He closed the hatch, locking it with a lower level code so that Carl would be able to open it. After calling the engineer on the Intercom, he and Debbie went to the observation lounge.

  “Damn!” she said, pouring herself a cup of water. “You’re a maniac! Want one?”

  “Yes, please.” She poured some for him. “Thank you. I didn’t plan any of that, but I had to get him to talk.”

  “You were pretty amazing. In a crazy, demented way.” She laughed. “Article 13! You’re going to get an article 13 for that little stunt, if anyone finds out.”

  He shrugged, smiling. “It’s just extra duty and some docked pay. I can live with it.”

  “Good thing he didn’t know that. So what did we learn?”

  “Well, I don’t think he was lying, but…”

  “He wasn’t,” she said confidently. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Then that confirms they were acting independently. Two saboteurs, acting alone. It seems crazy.”

  “Yes, it does. But it does make sense that the captain made the bomb.”

  “How’s that?” he asked.

  “Basic underwater demolition,” she said. “As in bombs.”

  “Damn,” he swore. “I should have realized that. I’m an idiot.”

  “Only a little.”

  “That reminds me,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Merrick wanted to announce his discovery. We’d better get to it now, before something crazy happens again.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “SO THEY PUT SLAVE masters over them to oppress them with forced labour,” Merrick announced dramatically. “And they built Pithom and Rameses as store cities for Pharaoh. So says the bible. In that, at least, it is partly correct.” He activated the holoscreen, displaying a digital outline map of Egypt with two large red overlays; construction sites, according to the legend.

  “Here,” he continued, pointing to the two work sites. “Are the major projects worked on by the Israelites. The one on top is the city of Rameses, which as you may recall was Rameses’ new capital city that he built in the Delta.”

  “The Israelites built the entire city?” Jack asked. They were all gathered in the observation deck, with the obvious exception of the captain. Even Jonathan had been brought here at Merrick’s request. The young man glared at Jack with obvious hatred.

  “Correct,” Merrick said. “Although remains of many of Rameses’ cities were found in the Nile Delta, no one was ever sure if the Israelites had anything to do with any of them. Now we know.

  “The bottom site.” He pointed to the second red square. “Is the temple of Abu Simbel, one of the greatest temples ever built by the Egyptians. It was carved out of the surface of a mountain by lowering artisans down the cliff face on scaffolds. Rameses II built it on the Nubian border as a reminder of his power. Mount Rushmore, by the way, was inspired by Abu Simbel. The small temple next to it is a companion structure completed as a tribute to Rameses’ wife Nefertari. These temples were the second big project worked on by the Israelites.

  “Now according to biblical scholars, the exodus from Egypt took place in approximately the year 1585 BC, plus or minus six years. That date was controversial until evidence surfaced that supported a date of 1545 BC, plus or minus six years, for the conquest of Canaan under Joshua. This gives us the forty year difference between exodus and the annihilation of the Canaanites.”

  He pushed some buttons on his display console, and the holoscreen split into two sections. On one side, Jack recognized what he thought looked like a satellite photo of a large campsite or village. On the other side was an overhead view of what looked like Abu Simbel undergoing construction. Another push of a button split the screen into four sections, with a similar overhead shot of a village on one side and a large city with highlighted portions on the other.

  “Pay attention to the top two,” Merrick said. “It’s easier to see the status of completion by looking at Abu Simbel.”

  “What is it?” Yelena asked, leaning back in her chair. It did not seem to Jack that she was at all disturbed by what was being discussed.

  “My apologies,” Merrick said, smiling. �
��I neglected to explain. The images on the left side are overhead shots of the two major slave camps where the Israelites were kept, the images on the right show the work they were doing. These first comparisons are from 1590 BC, five years before the supposed date of Exodus. As you can see by the population graphs on the legend, the camps were fully occupied. I derived those graphs from the size of the camp and the level of activity. At this point in time, the population of Israelites in Egypt has continued at a steady climb.” He pushed a button and the images updated. The work sites looked more cluttered, but the camps looked the same.

  “This is 1580, ten years later,” Merrick explained. “Note that the projects are further along, while the camps are the same size. Let’s jump ahead a little to 1575.” He pushed the button again. This time, the campsite was visibly smaller, with large empty areas and much fewer homes. Switching back and forth between the 1580 and 1575 comparisons, Merrick cycled between visible light and other light spectrums, showing how the population density had declined drastically between the last two shots. The 1575 temple had rough outlines of statues on the cliff face and many little scaffolds and ramps surrounding them.

  “Note the level of population decline in the slave camps as compared to the level of completion in the projects. Now let’s jump ahead even further. These are from 1570.”

  The next four sets of images showed an even more drastic reduction in population. Nefertari’s temple was complete, and the bigger one was much further along.

  “Now let’s look at 1565.” The camp was almost completely deserted and the temples looked finished.

  “What this is showing,” Merrick explained. “Is that the slave population greatly decreases as the projects near completion.” He cycled through a similar comparison with the second campsite, but Jack found it a little more difficult to judge level of completion in the city.

  “What does that mean?” he asked, his curiosity fully aroused.

  “It means,” Merrick voiced triumphantly. “That there was no Exodus, no Moses.” He was silent for a few seconds, looking each of them in the eye.

  “How can you tell?” Carl asked, leaning forward. “How do those images prove that?”